Arighty then, time for another rad and unfortunate chapter! Just so you know, the last chappie was written by Lizzy (aka Margarita OR Chris's Lover), so this chappie is written by Marty (aka Evil Bunny OR Burfday Girl). Just so we've cleared that up, THE TIME HAS COME. Heh. So sit back and enjoy. Popcorn, anyone?
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Mione Turns Goth
Hermione laughed as she saw the looks on her two best friends' faces as a couple of girls were blasted into peices by machine guns.
"What's with this violence?" she asked as she approached Ron.
Harry looked heartbroken. "Mary-Sue...My love..."
Ron seemed to break out of a trance. "Oh, Hermione...ahem...there you are. We've been-er...looking for you."
Hermionelooked at the mangled bodies of the two girls and laughed.
Ron and Harry were still preoccupied with mourning as the trio walked off the train when thhey arrived at Hogwarts. Hermione rolled her eyed, deciding that this is definitley going to be a somewhat different year than those past.
2Days Later
Hermione was, of course, right.
Ron rolled his eyes and signalled his black knight two spaces ahead. "We have all weekend to catch up on homework, Hermione. Don't get your panties in a bundle."
Harry watched his bishop get smashed to peices and agreed, "Yeah. . . We'll get it done, 'Mione."
Hermione opened her mouth to disagree, but Ron interrupted. "Just give up, Hermione. We're sick of you nagging at us all the time. We'll do it later, so in the meantime, why don't you just give up and go yell at Fred and George for hexing that second year?"
Hermione closed her mouth and stood in her spot looking offended. Her two "best" friends continued playing their game of Wizard's Chess, not taking any notice of her.
Neville walked by looking as nerdy as usual and approached Hermione. She didn't move.
"Hi Hermione," said Neville, showing his large gapped teeth in a smile.
"Er. . . Hey Neville." said Hermione, feeling very uncomfortable and hoping he wouldn't touch her recently washed robes.
Neville continued gazing at her dreamily with his beady eyes. "D'you. . . d'you wanna go. . . walk around on the grounds for a bit?"
Hermione tried to keep herself from shrieking and hiding under a table. "What? Er. . . Actually, I have some homework to finish up. . . See ya." And with that, she practically ran out of the common room and down the many staircases and outside, finding a large drooping tree to sit under. She plopped down under the tree furiously. She searched for things in her head that she could do to get revenge on everyone who annoyed her. Suddenly a dumbass idea popped into her head and her face lit with excitement.
'I know! I'll turn goth! That'll show Ron and Harry. . . and everyone else who doesn't notice me,' Hermione thought and wondered what she could do first to add to her plan. "Hmm. . ."
Suddenly her eyes spotted a small shard of glass laying across from her in the cool shade. (A/N: Don't ask what it's doing there. It's just one of those inexplainable things. Maybe some kids were going wild and crazy one night and decided to smash some beer bottles. Tis a mystery.) 'Oh! Goths cut themselves, right? Well then, this shouldn't be too hard. . .' She found her left wrist a nice location to do this and felt the warm blood trickle down her arm. All of a sudden, someone's voice caused her to jump in her spot in the grass.
"Hermione?" said a deep voice. Hermione looked up hastily and saw that it was her large friend, Hagrid. "What d'you think yer doin'?"
Hermione stood up from the grass and tried to look as unemotional as possible. "I'm not having a good day. Leave me alone please."
Hagrid looked thoroughly surprised and tried to stop Hermione from stalking off. "Yer cuttin' yerself, that's what yer doin'! It's not the answer, Hermione. Don't you want ter talk about it?"
"No. I don't care anymore. My heart is already shattered and my life is Hell. I'm going to go write some angsty poetry in my dormitory now, thank you very much," Hermione shouted defiantly over her shoulder as she walked toward the castle.
As she arrived in the Gryffindor common room, Harry and Ron approached her. "We're going outside to play some quidditch," Harry said and raised his Firebolt.
Hermione stalked off towards the girls dormitories and shouted once more over her shoulder. "In that case, let's just hope neither of you get accidentally fall from the sky and to your deaths. My tortured and anguished heart weeps for your well being."
But Harry and Ron had already left the common room and were frolicing down the staircases excitingly. Once Hermione found her bed, she magicked the sheets to turning black and parts of the wall around it. She suddenly took a notebook out of her bookbag and started writing in it cheerfully.
"Hmm. . ." Hermione thought up lyrics for a poem. Once she had finished in about 4 seconds, she read over her lovely poem, grinning.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Every time I see your face
My heart weeps for you
Violets are blue
Roses are red
There is too much pain
Going on inside my head
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And puppies are fab too
"Purty nice for a start," cheered Hermione as she glowered down at her finished poem. Once she has signed her name at the bottom, she tacked it up on her bulletin board.
The next morning before frolicing off to breakfast, Hermione magicked her bushy hair black and smeared black make-up on her eyes. Once she had stepped out the door, she realized that she had not changed out of her nightgown.
Once she had FINALLY made her way to the Great Hall in her new gothic attire, Hermione sat down silently across from Harry and Ron.
"Who's the new girl?" Ron whispered to Harry.
But Harry was looking closely at the girl sitting across from him. "Er. . . Is that you, Hermione?"
"That's Rose to you," Hermione said snootily. "I think it suits me better, don't you?"
Harry stared dumb-foundedly.
Ron spoke up suddenly. "Hasn't Halloween passed already, Hermione? You could have dressed as a dead person then."
"It's Rose, Ron," said Hermione rudely, pushing away the food Harry was offering her. "No thank you, Harry, I'm not in the mood for eating. There isn't enough room inside my shattered heart for anything else."
"Food goes in your stomach," Harry objected.
Hermione ignored his comment and stepped up from the table. "I'm going back to bed. This is boring." And before either could respond, she left the table.
As Hermione reached the stairs, she heard someone running behind her. "Hermione. . ." Harry's voice said.
Hermione turned to her friend. "Yes, Harry?" she said in a bored tone.
"What's wrong with you, Hermione?" said Harry in a pleading voice.
"It's Rose. And I'm extremely depressed and I'm on the verge of death, just so you know. You can have my collection of books once I die. Ron can keep my quill," said Hermione indifferently.
"Really? Thanks!" Harry grinned.
"No problem," Hermione replied as Harry returned to the Great Hall.
After sleeping for half of the day, Hermione showed up to her last class: Potions.
"You're here," said Ron thickly as Hermione took a seat next to him.
"How can you be so sure?" Hermione questioned dramatically. "My soul is not with me. I believe I lost it a long time ago. . ."
Ron and Harry exchanged glances and burst out laughing. Hermione didn't seem to notice, as she was busy doodling flowers and rainbows on a piece of parcement.
The rest of the day passed in a flash, and Hermione decided to lounge in a comfy chair in the common room, across from the warmly lit fireplace.
Ron and Harry crept into the common room carefully, tip-toeing as not to disturb 'Rose.'
"Are you sure this will work?" Ron whispered to Harry, clutching his broomstick.
"Well..." said Harry. "If you had managed to get frying pans as I suggested it would work better...but since we are using our quidditch brooms, I dunno."
Ron shrugged. "Let's just go whack her till we manage to exorcise the devil that swarmed inside of her and rejuvinate her old bushy haired literature freakoid persona. I miss that Hermione."
"Ok...GO!" shouted Harry as they sprinted up to Hermione and ambushed her with their brooms. She squealed and swatted them away, as they yelled 'THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELLS YOU' repeatedly. After Hermione finally shooed the boys and their brooms away, she stumbled backwards and hit her head on the fireplace.
"Ron, was that supposed to happen?" Harry frowned.
"No," said Ron as he poked Hermione. "Rose, er...wake up?"
"Who is Rose?" asked Hermione, suddenly perking up. "And why am I wearing this black shit?"
"AMNEEEESIA! Either that or the exorcism worked," yelled Ron excitedly as he threw his arms aorund her. Hermione patted his back awkwardly and Harry shrugged and rolled his eyes dramatically.
THE END (until next chapter, of coarse)
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