Chapter 5: Hermione Instigates Violence, More Twisted Legolas Humor, and
The Tragic Tale of Candy
When Professor McGonagall came to, she was lying on the floor in the Gryffindor common room, which was partially dark. In the corner of the wide room sat Hermione, wrapped in a blanket on a large overstuffed chair, with books piled around her. One of these she was reading by the meager light of a small lamp. "Can you see by that?" Hermione looked up, startled. "Oh, Professor. Lord Almighty, you look something awful." Professor McGonagall heaved herself to her feet and shuffled stiffly to the bathroom. Nothing was broken, but the face of a Victoria's Secret model in the mirror over the sink was a sight to behold, especially since it was a bloody, bruised model's face. A large bluish bruise circled one eye, and blood caked her nose and upper lip. The Professor cleaned up as best she could and went back to join Hermione, who had thoughtfully conjured up a pot of tea. "Thanks," She said apologetically, though we haven't a clue what she was apologizing for. "What are you reading?" "Oh, just a few little studies on drug addiction, pyromania, vampirism, and the human psyche." "Oh. Sounds rather interesting." The Professor sipped her tea and made a face. "Ugh. Can't you make anything better than this?" She tapped a ballpoint pen that was lying around with her wand, and it turned into a mug of.....something, that Hermione couldn't see before Professor McGonagall chugged it like there was no tomorrow. Hermione narrowed her eyes. Something was not right....all at once she had it. She deftly turned her human psyche book into a shining silver pistol with shining silver bullets, and shot Professor McGonagall twice in the heart. Just for good measure, she transfigured her gun into a stake and dragged the body twelve miles to the Hogwarts Train Station, with the help of some illegal Apparation. There she drove the stake into the heart of the bloody and mangled corpse, and drug it into the woods to dispose of the evidence.
In the morning, the entire school was talking about the dissappearance of the Professor, but Hermione said nothing. She knew it would be blamed on the Dark Lord Saur- ahem. On Voldemort, there, better? When the body was found. It was. Everyone was breathing free within three days. Relatively, considering the fact that an apparent deranged killer was stalking the grounds. But back to our story.
Ron had thoughtfully offered his dorm to the three visitors on the night of the untimely demise of the vampiress McGonagall, much to the chagrin of his roomies. Harry was indifferent, he had watched twelve hours of South Park and was barely able to form sentences, much less have a valid argument. Legolas had to find his own place to sleep, which was relatively difficult, because he was assaulted by fangirls wherever he went. Eventually he just slipped some horse tranquilizers into Hagrid's coffee and decided to stay there, and within two hours of his calim of the cottage had it looking, by some strange display of Elven Decorating Superability, like a lovely little country cottage, complete with rose-and-lattice-printed wallpaper. Except for the bathroom, which resembled the Max Factor Makeover Studio, complete with ultra-pure white lights and mirrors covering three walls. Spidey soon took up residence with Legolas and they formed their own fraternity of sorts, aptly dubbed the 'Fellowship of the Super-Hot and Gorgeous Guys With Over Four Billion Fangirls Worldwide'. The word 'ego' was suggested at several key moments in the naming of the frat by numerous outside parties, but it was eventually struck out of the proper title.
By this time everyone had become somewhat acquainted with each other, some more than others. Belwyn had immediately abandoned Harry and Co. and had set her sights on Legolas, who was bent on turning her into a beauty queen. Flame was trying to find a way to get out of the Fanfic Love policy, which stated that she had to be the infatuation of at least one member of the fic, i.e. Ron Weasley. She spent most of her time during those first few hours of their meeting trying to deter him from making her use the flamethrower. Candy was, well, here's Candy's Story.
Once upon a time, in our world, lived a fangirl named Candice. Of course,being the stereotypical fangirl she was, she wrote many a Mary-Sue, in which her name was Candicellamenlamenwen. But we'll stick with Candy.
Candy was your normal Legolas fangirl Mary- Sue, blonde and thin as they all were. And she could squeal with the best of them. She was also a talented webmistress, having created a total of four successful Legolas fansites, two with lovely lovely pictures. They were very lovely, if you get my drift. But Candy's parents were getting worried. She had started to withdraw into her room more often than usual, and spent waaaay too much time on the Internet, and had pictures of her lovely lovely celeb crush plastered all over her room. Her parents, stupid mortals as they were, decided it was some kind of teenage mental health disorder and sent her to a shrink.
The sad part; yes, it is near. The shrink they sent her to was none other than the all-knowing and wise Master Yoda, who saw nothing better to do to the poor girl and her horrible case of Fangirlism, decided to erase her memory. But he couldn't just do the Jedi hand-wave memory-wipe thing on her as his Jedi Arts Practicing License had been revoked and he was on probation for shoplifting from Saks Fifth Avenue. The only alternative to brain surgery and Memory Wipe were drugs or a sharp knock on the head, but Yoda couldn't risk having another lawsuit against him. Drugs. Illegal ones, as those were easy to obtain from a few select communicatins, and Yoda was not liscensed to issue a perscription. He also knew that the girl's strange behavior would be blamed on drug use, and hopefully she would be caught and rehabilitated before she died a horrible death but after she lost most of he brain cells that contained memories. Yeah, that was Yoda's plan, and in those exact words too.
So he phoned up Jedi Master Strawberry and hooked Candy up with four marijuana plants, which she kept in her room covered in silk flowers so as to add a decorative touch to the décor. Her parents, being the imbeciles they were, decided to go on an indefinite vacation to Tahiti and leave their rapidly- deteriorating daughter home alone.
So she got on the Net one day when she wasn't too stoned and did the standard Mary-Sue-sucked-through-computer-into-Middle-Earth thing (curiosly, a red screen with writing appeared before she was sucked in) and well, here we are. And now she was being told incessantly by that sweet Lavender Brown that she MUST NOT SMOKE POT, and that her mind might yet be saved, if she was lucky. She just might consider that. And so began the Rehabilitation of the Fangirl, the only true fangirl in the tag-team replacement group she had been thrust into. She started attending rehab classes the second day at Hogwarts, since she had no idea how she got there in the first place and Lavender was now her best friend. This was the turning point. (oOoooOOooooOOoo...Return of the Fangirls, I smell a sequel..)
Ah, a relatively humorless chapter, sigh. I figured our readers might want a serious moralistic discussion on why not to do drugs, mreh. But anyway, just to irk you people who thought this chapter was a piece of crap, I'm going to add a spoiler: This chapter was supposed to be where the fangirl comes back to claim her throne as a true fangirl , and upset the careful balance of oddities and perfect perfectness in our little cast of characters, causing a tumultuous battle of wit, nerve, and skill; I haven't a clue when that's going to happen, because I don't plan my plots in advance. Have a nice day.
When Professor McGonagall came to, she was lying on the floor in the Gryffindor common room, which was partially dark. In the corner of the wide room sat Hermione, wrapped in a blanket on a large overstuffed chair, with books piled around her. One of these she was reading by the meager light of a small lamp. "Can you see by that?" Hermione looked up, startled. "Oh, Professor. Lord Almighty, you look something awful." Professor McGonagall heaved herself to her feet and shuffled stiffly to the bathroom. Nothing was broken, but the face of a Victoria's Secret model in the mirror over the sink was a sight to behold, especially since it was a bloody, bruised model's face. A large bluish bruise circled one eye, and blood caked her nose and upper lip. The Professor cleaned up as best she could and went back to join Hermione, who had thoughtfully conjured up a pot of tea. "Thanks," She said apologetically, though we haven't a clue what she was apologizing for. "What are you reading?" "Oh, just a few little studies on drug addiction, pyromania, vampirism, and the human psyche." "Oh. Sounds rather interesting." The Professor sipped her tea and made a face. "Ugh. Can't you make anything better than this?" She tapped a ballpoint pen that was lying around with her wand, and it turned into a mug of.....something, that Hermione couldn't see before Professor McGonagall chugged it like there was no tomorrow. Hermione narrowed her eyes. Something was not right....all at once she had it. She deftly turned her human psyche book into a shining silver pistol with shining silver bullets, and shot Professor McGonagall twice in the heart. Just for good measure, she transfigured her gun into a stake and dragged the body twelve miles to the Hogwarts Train Station, with the help of some illegal Apparation. There she drove the stake into the heart of the bloody and mangled corpse, and drug it into the woods to dispose of the evidence.
In the morning, the entire school was talking about the dissappearance of the Professor, but Hermione said nothing. She knew it would be blamed on the Dark Lord Saur- ahem. On Voldemort, there, better? When the body was found. It was. Everyone was breathing free within three days. Relatively, considering the fact that an apparent deranged killer was stalking the grounds. But back to our story.
Ron had thoughtfully offered his dorm to the three visitors on the night of the untimely demise of the vampiress McGonagall, much to the chagrin of his roomies. Harry was indifferent, he had watched twelve hours of South Park and was barely able to form sentences, much less have a valid argument. Legolas had to find his own place to sleep, which was relatively difficult, because he was assaulted by fangirls wherever he went. Eventually he just slipped some horse tranquilizers into Hagrid's coffee and decided to stay there, and within two hours of his calim of the cottage had it looking, by some strange display of Elven Decorating Superability, like a lovely little country cottage, complete with rose-and-lattice-printed wallpaper. Except for the bathroom, which resembled the Max Factor Makeover Studio, complete with ultra-pure white lights and mirrors covering three walls. Spidey soon took up residence with Legolas and they formed their own fraternity of sorts, aptly dubbed the 'Fellowship of the Super-Hot and Gorgeous Guys With Over Four Billion Fangirls Worldwide'. The word 'ego' was suggested at several key moments in the naming of the frat by numerous outside parties, but it was eventually struck out of the proper title.
By this time everyone had become somewhat acquainted with each other, some more than others. Belwyn had immediately abandoned Harry and Co. and had set her sights on Legolas, who was bent on turning her into a beauty queen. Flame was trying to find a way to get out of the Fanfic Love policy, which stated that she had to be the infatuation of at least one member of the fic, i.e. Ron Weasley. She spent most of her time during those first few hours of their meeting trying to deter him from making her use the flamethrower. Candy was, well, here's Candy's Story.
Once upon a time, in our world, lived a fangirl named Candice. Of course,being the stereotypical fangirl she was, she wrote many a Mary-Sue, in which her name was Candicellamenlamenwen. But we'll stick with Candy.
Candy was your normal Legolas fangirl Mary- Sue, blonde and thin as they all were. And she could squeal with the best of them. She was also a talented webmistress, having created a total of four successful Legolas fansites, two with lovely lovely pictures. They were very lovely, if you get my drift. But Candy's parents were getting worried. She had started to withdraw into her room more often than usual, and spent waaaay too much time on the Internet, and had pictures of her lovely lovely celeb crush plastered all over her room. Her parents, stupid mortals as they were, decided it was some kind of teenage mental health disorder and sent her to a shrink.
The sad part; yes, it is near. The shrink they sent her to was none other than the all-knowing and wise Master Yoda, who saw nothing better to do to the poor girl and her horrible case of Fangirlism, decided to erase her memory. But he couldn't just do the Jedi hand-wave memory-wipe thing on her as his Jedi Arts Practicing License had been revoked and he was on probation for shoplifting from Saks Fifth Avenue. The only alternative to brain surgery and Memory Wipe were drugs or a sharp knock on the head, but Yoda couldn't risk having another lawsuit against him. Drugs. Illegal ones, as those were easy to obtain from a few select communicatins, and Yoda was not liscensed to issue a perscription. He also knew that the girl's strange behavior would be blamed on drug use, and hopefully she would be caught and rehabilitated before she died a horrible death but after she lost most of he brain cells that contained memories. Yeah, that was Yoda's plan, and in those exact words too.
So he phoned up Jedi Master Strawberry and hooked Candy up with four marijuana plants, which she kept in her room covered in silk flowers so as to add a decorative touch to the décor. Her parents, being the imbeciles they were, decided to go on an indefinite vacation to Tahiti and leave their rapidly- deteriorating daughter home alone.
So she got on the Net one day when she wasn't too stoned and did the standard Mary-Sue-sucked-through-computer-into-Middle-Earth thing (curiosly, a red screen with writing appeared before she was sucked in) and well, here we are. And now she was being told incessantly by that sweet Lavender Brown that she MUST NOT SMOKE POT, and that her mind might yet be saved, if she was lucky. She just might consider that. And so began the Rehabilitation of the Fangirl, the only true fangirl in the tag-team replacement group she had been thrust into. She started attending rehab classes the second day at Hogwarts, since she had no idea how she got there in the first place and Lavender was now her best friend. This was the turning point. (oOoooOOooooOOoo...Return of the Fangirls, I smell a sequel..)
Ah, a relatively humorless chapter, sigh. I figured our readers might want a serious moralistic discussion on why not to do drugs, mreh. But anyway, just to irk you people who thought this chapter was a piece of crap, I'm going to add a spoiler: This chapter was supposed to be where the fangirl comes back to claim her throne as a true fangirl , and upset the careful balance of oddities and perfect perfectness in our little cast of characters, causing a tumultuous battle of wit, nerve, and skill; I haven't a clue when that's going to happen, because I don't plan my plots in advance. Have a nice day.