Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, I own nothing.
Author's Note: Yo! Okay, peeps, here's the deal. This is just me being silly, so it really doesn't mean anything. All the characters not previously in the books are cameos of people I know in real life. If YOU wanna be in this lovely cesspool of a fanfic, then just leave your opinion in the form of a comment (but you'd comment anyway...right?) and leave me a brief physical description, and some idea of what you want to be doing, etc. I'll do the best I can to accommodate. Thanks, and enjoy!
Chapter 1: Something Tedious This Way Comes
A dull, numbing silence had fallen over the corridors of Hogwarts. No first years skipped along their merry ways, humming tunes as carefree as the buzzing of honey bees. The dining hall was empty, as was Hogsmeade and just about every facility that harbored any feeling of joy or fun. Students walked about in dazes, wide vacant eyes gazing airily off into space, as if they were waiting for the one object of their fruitless quests to come falling from the heavens and land at their feet. Yes, my friends. Hogwarts had fallen into the clutches of winter exams.
"Harry, watch it!" Hermione shrieked, batting Harry's quivering hand away. The boy had nearly fallen asleep as he picked up Ron's inkwell (Harry had smashed his own to bits) to place before his own piece of parchment. Ink sloshed from side to side as the hand holding it rocked, and small drops of black splattered onto Hermione's newly washed and pressed white blouse.
"Hmmm...huh?" Harry's eyes snapped from half-open to open wide as Hermione's voice pierced through his brain. He focused on the ink in his hand, gasped, and pulled the well back to set it before himself before looking to Hermione. "Hermione, I'm so sorry!" His gaze followed the trail the ink had taken to its final destination; the breast of Hermione's shirt. He stumbled out an apology as his cheeks flashed pink, and he dropped his stare to the lone inkwell.
Ron had taken to the awkward attempt of holding a handkerchief out for Hermione and blotting away the ink from her clothing. Though he did a poor job, as it ended up looking more like he was clumsily trying to molest her than anything else. Both fifth years had been shocked to silence, though Ron's was embarrassed and Hermione's, nearly furious. Ron's face turned a rather exotic shade of red as his hand jerked away, and promptly slammed into the inkwell.
A loud cracking signified that the thing had hit the floor. Harry noticed with mild amusement that the inkwell broke, just as his had, and the ink seeped out in a circle almost parallel to the other ink shapes that his had left. Ron would have begun picking up the shards of black glass, had he not been in ashamed rapture with Hermione. Had he really touched her there? The slap across his face proved the point.
Hermione's cheeks were hot magenta, and it appeared as if she were about to pass out. Her hands flew to the ink stain on her shirt to cover it, but on the way her hand slammed into her own inkwell, causing it to shatter right beside the other two.
The scene that resulted was now rather comical; Harry was grudgingly lifting shards of glass from the hardwood floor of the library, Ron was red as a cherry tomato and modestly avoiding looking anywhere near Hermione, and Hermione had her hands pressed over the ink stains on her blouse. Surely the librarian would have said something by now, but as it was exam time, she had found less tedious things to do with her time than watch a group of rowdy adolescents.
As he straightened up, Harry was the first to speak. "Guys...I think we need a new inkwell."
Ron and Hermione nodded dumbly, still refusing to look towards each other. They stood, abandoning their books and parchment on the table. "Right...good idea, Harry." Ron mumbled, flinching when Hermione looked over to him briefly.
And so the three shuffled out of the abandoned library, stunned into a stupor from both the incident that had just taken place and the pressing enemy that was winter exams.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Soft steps echoed over old stone as the three fifth years climbed a rather large staircase. They luckily touched solid ground before it decided to change, and watched it lift its massive bulk and shift to end by a different hallway. Hermione straightened her skirt, seeming rather fidgety. Her eyes darted about the bare hallway, searching for the wailing sound that had reached her ears.
Harry and Ron heard it as well, trading quizzical expressions. "What the bloody hell is that?" Ron ventured the question that had hovered on the minds of both Harry and Hermione alike. Both boys shrugged, treading lightly on the stone floor.
What they found was rather surprising. First to be seen was Mary-Sue, a sixth year Hufflepuff. The girl could be tall, but she slouched so her height was a hair shorter than Harry's. Her pristine blue eyes were clouded with inflamed red veins, a sure sign that she had recently broken into tears. Cheeks still wet, she seemed to feel no shame in the fact that all who passed her could see she wore her despair plainly on her sleeve. "I...I can't believe it..." She whispered between heaving sobs, and pushed a hand back through her flawless blonde hair that melted back into perfect place bobbing about her elbows. "I won't believe it...it's not true. It's not!" She broke into another sob, her shoulders bending back to almost meet as she stumbled forward, hands clasping before her beautiful face. "I'll kill them! I will!" She roared between cries, seeming so strong, yet so fragile.
Harry's face calmed as he came upon her form. He chewed his lip lightly, and felt a strong impulse to reach out and hold her gently, to comfort her somehow. Ron felt the same compelling pull, while Hermione crossed her arms stubbornly and muttered about how much of a tramp Mary-Sue was.
The older girl looked up at Harry from her point doubled over and holding her sides. She batted away crystal tears and felt them gush down her cheeks to join the others. "Harry...hi."
"Hey..." He breathed out, and stepped forward. "Are...are you okay?" His emerald eyes shone with worry and concern, and he stepped forward again.
"Of course, I'm fine." She replied almost curtly, wiping away the tears forming in her eyes once again.
For some reason, Harry couldn't believe her. "Are you sure?" He stepped forward once more, now only a few inches' distance away from her full lips.
Suddenly, the girl broke forth in unrestrained sobs and rushed to wrap her arms around Harry's chest, pulling herself close to him. "Oh, Harry! It's horrible! It's just...just..."
This scene could be considered dramatically pure, if not for the presence of another sixth year Hufflepuff, though she was obviously of a different breed. Her dark brown hair fell to her shoulders, and her face was framed by two strips of bleach-blonde. She was running, hands and arms flying like wet noodles behind her as her voice echoed off the walls to create a chaotic chorus. "ANGST, ANGST, ANGST, ANGST! HEY! LOOK AT THIS! IT'S ANGST!"
The blonde girl looked up quickly, and felt her fists clench in anger. "Stop it!" She broke away from Harry, now a bristling ball of fury. "Quit doing that!"
"Silly hippie." The newcomer giggled. "Trips are for kids!" With that, she stuck her tongue out, puffed her cheeks, and sat cross-legged on the floor.
Mary-Sue stared at the girl in utter confusion, and rolled her eyes. "Well...thanks, Harry. I really appreciate you being there for me."
Hermione muttered something under her breath that sounded surprisingly like, "It's 'appreciate your being there for me'..." Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and Ron couldn't help but almost fear her.
"It's no problem, Mary-Sue. Really..." Harry stuttered, feeling his cheeks burn as the girl grinned and passed him, making sure to allow her hips to swing as much as they could. It wasn't until several seconds later that the girl on the floor jumped to her feet and ran after Mary-Sue, arms flying.
Ron blinked. "Well that was odd."
Harry shook his head as if ridding his brain of a previous plague. "Yeah, it was."
Hermione nodded in almost approval that Ron hadn't gone weak-kneed at the appearance of this seemingly perfect Mary-Sue. Her gaze on the lanky redhead turned nearly possessive for a brief moment, but soon reverted to uninterested as he managed to look her way.
"Okay, let's go try to find somebody with an ink well..." Harry muttered, causing the other two to nod in agreement. And so, the three Gryffindors meandered down the hallway on the quest for an inkwell.
