Merlin, Not Another Cliché!
Princes and Purebloods
Summary: Hermione finds out she's a—surprise!—pure blood! Where does she end up with such interesting news? The twist in this one is a touch of cannibalism! That's always fun.
Hermione felt miserable. All she wanted was to be a pureblood. The wizarding world hated her because she couldn't ever be one. But wait, the author slowly tapped into the other 90% of her brain that humans generally didn't use… she had a very good idea…
One day before school started, Hermione's mom and dad pulled her aside and said, "Look, darling, we need to have a chat."
"Over biscuits and tea?" Hermione asked. Although she was watching her figure, she never could resist tea biscuits or éclairs.
Hermione's mother looked over at her husband, who shrugged. "Yeah, whatever, you little shit."
The author had just remembered that Hermione's dad abused her. The father, who up until then had had a genteel smile on his face and kind eyes, suddenly grew devil horns and a permanent snarl. "You're adopted, bitch."
Hermione gasped, and so did her mother. "Oh, Frank!" her mom sobbed. "Please, don't tell her; don't tell her… she's too young, she can't know yet…"
"Too late, cunt," the father snarled to the mother. "Hey Hermione, your mom couldn't have kids so we picked you up from the dollar store."
Hermione burst into tears and began to rock back and forth. "D-d-d-addy," she cried. "Why are you so mean to me?"
The author had silent tears rolling down her face as she wrote her incredibly touching and poignant piece of work. The dad was a heartless old man, the mother a poor, abused, unwilling to disobey her husband type of sissy, and Hermione just wanted to be free. That was all that the adorable girl desired.
Hermione suddenly came to an important realization. "You know what?" she yelled at her parents, ignoring her mother's heart-wrenching sobs and her dad's angry snarl (the author just couldn't find a synonym for the word). "I don't have to take your shit anymore! I can leave! In fact I will leave!"
She stomped towards the door in pure unadulterated anger and unhappiness. Just as she took one step out the door, she heard a frail voice behind her.
"Wait," her mother croaked. "Just one more thing, babe."
Hermione whirled around faster than you could say "dizzy" and stared at her mother. "What is it?" she growled impatiently. "You know I'm supposed to be at Draco's house for the story plot in like three minutes. Gosh. Way to delay the story. You're a horrible character," she bitched.
"Oh my gosh," her mother snapped back. "Stop acting like such a teenager. Grow up, won't you? Cor, you're the one who has morals, right? Anyhow, you're a pureblood. Happy? I got MY line over with, let's see how you do yours!"
Hermione gasped dramatically. "A pureblood?" She had NOT seen this coming. Neither had the author's readers. Hermione, a pureblood? It was absolutely scandalous?
"Yeah, you lil bitch, a pureblood," the dad spoke up. "How dense are you?"
"Who are my parents?" Hermione asked softly.
Her mother inhaled shakily. "Prince Abergigolo of Abergigali… and his beautiful wife Summer Candy."
Hermione gasped again. "OMG! You are SO kidding! Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she giggled.
"No!" her mother broke out in a grin. "Oh my gosh, you're a princess!"
"Christ, I'm definitely late for the Malfoys," Hermione said, checking her watch. "Catch up with you later, and you too, Dad."
"Later, shit," he called back cheerily. The author was ignoring any forms of characterization right now. They just weren't important.
Hermione stepped outside in wonder and shock, tears drenching her creamy pale complexion, with her cute-as-a-button nose, shiny straight blonde hair, blue eyes, and pink lips. Cherry cheerleader personified, complete with a nice rack and a big butt, albeit small stomach and shapely legs!
Suddenly she closed her eyes and wished she was somewhere where she would be appreciated. When she opened her eyes she was awesomely surprised to find herself standing in front of a large manor, with beautiful gardens, and a high gate. The Malfoy manor! The author expected all of her readers to be dutifully surprised, although this key fact had actually been revealed earlier, in most subtle of ways.
"Oh look who's in front of my house," someone drawled from behind her. "If it isn't the mudblood."
Hermione spun around and came face to face with a Greek god; his skin was like alabaster, smooth, pale, beautiful. His eyes were stormy grey and he had silver-white-blonde hair that wasn't gelled back; it was shaggy and gorgeous. Swoon, all of you girls, please, the author thought as she giggled and wrote the passage. Mmm, I want to shag that piece of…oh, oh, oh…
Hermione looked him over appreciatively. "You look fantastic," she gushed. "Anyway, I'm not a mud blood. Don't you keep up with the news? Pure blood now."
"You're kidding," he gasped.
"No way. My 'rents were definitely Prince Abergigolo and his wife Summer Candy."
"Really?" Draco asked, surprised. "My 'rents are having them for dinner tomorrow."
"Really? Oh, my, gosh, I get to meet my old 'rents?! Will you let me stay here?"
Draco shrugged. "Ya you can, but you can't meet your 'rents because mine are having them for dinner. Literally. Abergigalis are supposed to be really yummy."
Hermione shrugged. "Eh, it's what they get for abandoning me."
"Damn straight," he replied with a grin. "So wanna meet my mommy and daddy?"
"Eat or meet?" grinned Hermione, and they both started to laugh.
The romance had begun.
A/N: Yeah, another cliché down, many left to do! Once again, please review and tell me some more clichés you would like addressed. Keep in mind I am already planning to do the Head Boy/Head Girl. Any others, please tell me. Thanks again!