Harry slowly approached the piano. When he reached it, he procured a set of tuning forks and began the meticulous work tuning the piano after its fall onto Hermione. He struck the forks louder than necessary, but in an uncanny way, this made him work faster. When the tuning was done, Harry sat down at the piano, and began to perform what was likely the world's worst cover of Yellow Submarine, but, thankfully, before this could happen, everyone in the world had been deafened by the tuning forks, except for the zombie version of John Lennon, who had come back to destroy he who maimed the Beatles' legacy.

But a complicated hex involving rainbow fishnet stockings and 66 pink elephants (fluffiness factor unknown) made it so that ZombiJohn couldn't kill Harry himself, so he had to summon the long-dead antagonist of this fandom.

"Oh yeah! Him! What was his name again?"

"Voldything, I think."

"No, I would swear it was Volde' Mortician."

"Are you kidding?!!! Everyone knows his name was Voldy."

So, anyway, ZombiJohn contacted He-Who-Must-Always-Be-Misnamed to get retribution on Harry for mauling his cheerful and nonsensical ode to some unnamed hallucinogenic drug. Of course, ZombiJohn had been peace-loving during his mortal existence, but ever since the incident with the spam and the fluffy aqua textbook of vengeance he had gained a terrible temper and was not opposed to ripping out someone's internal organs for mussing up his goatee.

Suddenly, Draco emerged from the shadows, and through the power of fanfiction randomness, fought off Harry, ZombiJohn, and Voldy. He then lifted up the piano, pulled Hermione up from beneath it, and began to venture into a form of fanfiction that had never been spoofed before: THE SONGFIC!!!!!!!!!

Pi: And, because this is a songfic, I must now tell you all the traditional songfic AuthorNotes. I do not own Wanna B Ur Lovr, Weird Al Yankovic does. I also do not own Draco and Hermione.

~I don't have a library card

But do you mind if I check you out?

I like your skeletal structure, baby

You're an ectomorph, no doubt

Your face is real symmetrical

And your nostrils are so nice

I wish that I was cross-eyed

So I could see you twice~

Draco stared at Hermione. She was so perfect. He could just stare at her, and never get bored. How could he ever have seen anything in Harry? Hermione was so much better. He knew he loved her, and didn't hesitate to tell her so. She was so beautiful.

~Girl, you smell like Fritos

That's why I'm giving you this hungry stare

You're so hot, you're gonna melt

The elastic in my underwear

I'll bet you're magically delicious

Like a bowl of Lucky Charms

You'd look like Venus de Milo

If I just cut off your arms

What I'm tryin' to say is...~

Words couldn't express what Draco was feeling at that moment. He could just stare at Hermione. Beauty oozed from her. Ooze, like the crimson ooze poem Harry had written for him. Harry didn't matter anymore. Hermione was everything.

~I wanna be your lover, baby

I need somebody to love

You know I just wanna be your lover, baby

Now I need somebody to love~

Hermione didn't seem to notice him. How could she be oblivious to his feelings? He just stared at her. He was no longer a tortured, bi-sexual polygamist, he just wanted Hermione. He loved her.

~Do you believe in love at fist sight

Or should I walk by again?

My love for you's like diarrhea

I just can't hold it in

Stop, drop and roll now

'Cause baby, you're on fire

I'll bet your outfit

Makes a lot of noise in the dryer~

He walked over to a tattoo parlor nearby, placed there for the sake of fanfiction. DM + HG read the cheap tattoo across his forehead. He hoped now she would get the message. Hermione was his one true love.

~You're absolutely perfect

Don't speak now, you might spoil it

Your eyes are even bluer

Than the water in my toilet

Say, has anyone ever told you

You've got Yugoslavian hands?

No, of course not, that would be stupid

Just forget I ever brought it up

The point I'm trying to make is...~

Hermione was everything. He just wanted to hold her. He remembered he had once been hers, long ago, during their chaotic fifth-year fanfiction spoof. Since then, he had been left to read endless bad fanfiction, the only literature left about their romance.

~I wanna be your lover, baby

I need somebody to love

You know I just wanna be your lover, baby

Now I need somebody to love~

~I wanna be your Krakatoa

Let my lava flow all over you

I wanna be your anaconda

And your heat-seeking missile too

I wanna be your beef burrito

Am I making this perfectly clear?

I wanna be your love torpedo

Are you picking up the subtle innuendo here?

Uh huh~

"Hermione," he said. "I love you" She was still not acknowledging him. He wondered what was wrong with her. He then resumed just staring at her. She was incredibly perfect.

~I hope I'm not being forward

But do you mind if I chew on your butt?

You can tell me truthfully

Am I a steamin' hunk of love now, or what?

There just aren't enough o's in "smooth"

To describe how smooth I am

Maybe you've seen my picture

It's in the dictionary under "Kablaam!"

My lips are registered weapons

Can I invade your personal space?

You must have fallen from heaven

That would explain how you messed up your face

Well, how'd you get through security?

'Cause baby, you're the bomb

I'd like to take you home right now

So you can meet my mom

Because I...~

"HERMIONE!" he bellowed. "I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU, EVEN IF YOU REFUSE TO SHOW THAT YOU KNOW I EXIST! YOU ARE THE ONE FOR ME!!!!!!"

~I wanna be your lover, baby

I need somebody to love

You know I just wanna be your lover, baby

Now I need somebody to love~

~Girl, you must be Jamaican

Because Jamaican me crazy

Girl, you must be Jamaican

Because Jamaican me crazy~

He stared at Hermione again. He loved her. Never before had he felt the way he did at that moment. Suddenly, a wretched scent waved its way through the air. It was the smell of rotting flesh. Hermione was dead.

~I wanna be your lover, baby

I need somebody to love

You know I just wanna be your lover, baby

Now I need somebody to love~

"I am the Great Entity of All Pink, Fluffy Moldiness," Roared a disembodied voice with long, sexy black hair.

"Wait! You can't have hair-you're supposed to be an eerie disembodied voice," protested Hermione.

"Yeah, like, and you're supposed to be dead," scoffed the long-invisible Japanese exchange student.

"Excuse ME! It is against fanfiction code 34.23.1a section IV for a love interest to remain dead, except in angst/tragedy fanfiction."

"Shut up, you $lut!" And Kirei and Hermione became engaged in a nasty catfight, strangling each other with their designer scarves.

"Um, Hello? Anyone? Aren't I supposed to be the big scary evil omnipotent entity here?" Asked the G.E.O.A.P.F.M. timidly. But no one really cared, because everyone was suddenly reminded that they had torrid affairs and angsty haiku to get back to. The GEOAPFM sulked in a corner, which is a difficult thing for a disembodied voice to do, and began sobbing that no one took him seriously anymore.

The only reasonable explanation for all of this was of course, Hermione was now a zombie and the secret love child of John Lennon to boot.

Ron looked at Hermione because, if anyone actually remembers (which ff authors rarely do), they were writing the fic back in the beginning of this round. Well, Hermione was writing it and the guys were looking on. "You call that a reasonable explanation?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Deal with it."

Harry sighed. "Moving on . . ."

All of a sudden, the Leaning Tower of Pisa fell.

And then Kelpy was feeling sadistic, so she decided to have Hermione insert the HP characters into a disgustingly ordinary American high school. Of course, this high school bore NO resemblance to Kelpy's HS, and was COMPLETELY invented. *cough cough.*

In true fanfiction form, I will attempt to give a reason for this, and utterly fail.

"Harry," said Dumbledore, "You must go...on a QUEST."

Harry sighed apathetically. "ANOTHER one? C'mon..."

"Work with me here, okay? We need you to go undercover as exchange students in an American high school and convince a certain member of the student body who happens to have spectacular magical powers to come to Hogwarts and help us."

"But Voldemort, Moldyshorts, The Evil Pink Bunny Slippers of DOOM, and the evil mustard-colored sock have been vanquished."

"Look, we need the girl, okay? Just go along with this. Besides, everyone knows you'll end up having a torrid love affair."

Harry brightened slightly. "Oooh! Oooh! May I write her highly inappropriate poetry full of failed attempts at flowery language and thinly veiled sexual innuendo?"

"Yeah, Whatever."

Since No one has ever heard of two English-speaking countries exchanging students (pointless) Harry and Co. had to go undercover as teenagers from Elbonia, which was achieved by, or course, drinking Polyjuice potion.

However, they did not have enough money to buy airplane tickets, so they had to bribe Captain Jack Sparrow to sail them across the Atlantic.

However they never did get to America as there boat somehow ended up crashing in to an uncharted Island that happened to be Middle Earth. (There seams to be a growing number of Fan fics were the Lord of the Rings gets involved do it's time for it to occur here.)

At least they thought it was Middle Earth, they had actually landed on the shores of Newfoundland at Lance au Medows, An ancient Viking settlement in Canada. The muggle tourists there were shocked not only to see a pirate ship sail into the harbor there but also to see 4 wizards and Captain Jack Sparrow there.

At this point, Captain Sparrow remembered that they were supposed to be in the settlement when the VIKINGS were there, so he popped out his time- turner (hey, everybody's got one now!) and zipped them back to 1200 B.C.

As the ship landed, they were approached, of course, by an extremely buff Viking, whose protective furs, for some unknown reason, were torn down the middle to expose his chest. Kelpy thought he must be very cold, but Captain Sparrow immediately greeted him as his brother in the fraternity of men-who- dress-impractically-because-their-screaming-fangirls-like-it. A.K.A. talentless male models. It turned out that there was a portal to Middle Earth there, too. Once Aragorn showed up, they decided to all go off and have a party. Legolas reverently denied any claims that he was a slave to fashion, stating "I am an elf. I dress for archery, not for the sake of 'bling bling,' ignorant mortal. Desist this nonsense, or shall I make irritatingly sarcastic remarks about your stature until your eyebrows begin to twitch from irritation?"

Harry, however, decided that this was the time for a time travel/crossover plot twist, and convinced Hermione to insert the Four Founders into the fic. She actually resisted, at first, but gave in when he pointed out that it would give her et another opportunity to write a torrid love affair, besides which, she would have lots of fun writing the angsting bit where Harry has to decide between his ancestress Helga and actually existing in the time/space continuum.

"Oh, that'll be quite entertaining," she said with a sadistic grin, being temporarily possessed by the spirit of a bad angst writer.

While Hermione was in bad angst writer mode, she took the liberty to have every single character, including herself, kidnapped and reinserted into bad add-a-line stories on other websites. Harry found himself amongst blatant self-insertions and torrid love affairs to numerous to count over on the Any-Generic-Pop-Artist-They're-All-The-Same-Anyway message boards, while Hermione, saving herself the most angsty misfortune (who said she couldn't have masochistic tendencies) inserted herself into the "Pirates- are-all-sexy-despite-the-fact-that-they-all-probably-have-veneral-diseases" board (aka, the Pirates of the Caribbean fangirls' realm of power).

Ron, however, was inserted into a random angsty fanfiction, which happened to be one where children were enslaved and forced to write fifty page essays four times a week or else be chained to a moldy dungeon wall with no food until someone remembered to feed them, which was not often.

Meanwhile, Savage was on vacation on a remote tropical island in the middle of nowhere eating Spaghetti without the meatballs.