DISCLAIMER: Once upon a time, in a fandom far, far away… (In other words, this is a work of fanfiction, thus the author does not own anything used in this fanfic)
WARNING: This fanfic is a parody. As in, it makes fun of a helluva-lot of other fanfics and fanficcers. You have been warned.
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THE DRACO AND HERMIONE FAIRYTALE The fandom fairytale- um… actually… parodyjJjJjJj
SEGMENT ONE
From Rags to Riches
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Hermione Granger arrived home one dreary August night, to find that the summer holidays after her sixth year had simply been whisked away- and her clothes no longer fit her anymore.
Somehow, in the matter of seconds, really, her chest had expanded to a GRAVITY DEFYING state, and her waist had minimized to the point where when she tried to walk, she would have fallen over, as her legs had somehow grown as well.
'Oh my god!' she breathed breathily, while all readers with more taste clicks the back button. 'Oh my GOD!'
You must understand that in order for such… phenomenally phenomenal makeovers to occur, something uniquely Hermione had to be taken away- and unfortunately, overwhelming physical perfection could not possibly go hand-in-hand with overwhelming mental perfection. Besides, who cares about intelligence anyway? This plot certainly doesn't! (And neither does this author, 'cause brainy intelligence is just, like… SOOO stupid, and besides, the author's mental capabilities don't match up anyway… so we'll move on now.)
So thus… Hermione's intellectual capabilities were sadly diminished.
Anyways, Hermione's clothes no longer fit. A truly coincidental coincidence, as she had decided that full and frumpy was no longer in.
'How perfect!' she gushed to her PERFECT reflection. 'I was just thinking that I, like, totally had to revamp my wardrobe! It was like, seriously in need of, like, the fashion police. Like, why wear robes when you could wear… rags?'
Luckily, the equally suddenly endowed Ginny Weasley, Hermione's newest bestie was at hand. Happily, they hopped into Ginny's convertible—the Weasleys were 'suddenly' 'somehow' rich—and drove off to the mall to revamp their BODIES, LIVES and SOUL.
Cost, of course, was not a problem.
Hours later, they sashayed home- The Burrow (thisiscanonicallycorrectinformation, mwahaha) wearing short, short miniskirts- by Gucci, to show off their impossibly LONG legs, boob tubes- by Ralph Lauren, to show off their WELL ENDOWED chests, skimpy satin underwear- from Victoria's Secret, just because, and sporting perfect manicures and PERFECT makeup jobs (from Maxfactor, the makeup of makeup artists). Ginny was wearing Poison by Dior while Hermione was wearing Chanel no. 9.
Ron and Harry (The Gryffindor Princes, the Two of the Golden Trio, whatever) entered, and at the very sight of their new and improved 'friends', they immediately started drooling—not that this was a bad thing, of course, since Harry and Ron were somehow also HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT!
Harry had SEXY jet-black hair, SEXY killer green eyes and a SEXY chiselled face. His long, lean body was muscular—honed from Quidditch and very, very SEXY. Ron was virtually equally as hot, having stomached the same benefits as Harry had received from the strenuous game. However, instead of SEXY dark hair and SEXY green eyes, Ron sported SEXILY tousled hair, and wonderfully expressive, very, very SEXY dark brown eyes.
'Wow, Ginny,' said the slack-jawed (but still SEXY!) Harry, who was obviously suddenly somehow smitten with the wonderfully wonderful Ginny (partly because the author doesn't want Harry and Ginny in the way of Draco and Hermione's beautiful relationship, but that is a SPOILER SPOILER!) 'You look… wow.'
'How about me?' Hermione demanded, smacking his muscular, toned arm with her perfect, manicured hand. 'Don't I look gorgeous as well?'
Harry, who was drooling copiously (in a SEXY way), just nodded, his eyes firmly averted to Ginny. 'Hermioneyoulookgoodtoo,' he slurred, making goo-goo-eyes with Ginny.
'I reckon you look the hottest, 'Mione,' gushed Ron gushily, 'You look absolutely amazing. Amazingly terrific.'
The I-want-to-fuck-you-senseless part was left unsaid, but the SEXURAL tension was very much tangible. The tension was so thick a knife could have cut through it easily.
Yeah, and by this time, the readers have already come to an understanding that the author doesn't really like Ron, and is adamant on TRASHING HIS CHARACTER so she won't have to write about him no more!
For a while, Hermione just stared at Ron, as if she was stunned. Then, she suddenly leapt up, her beautiful, makeup accentuated eyes filled with tears. 'Ron,' she said shakily, in a teary voice, 'YOU'RE A BLOODY IDIOT.'
And with that, she stormed off.
Ron just stared at her confusedly. 'What did I say wrong?' he muttered, running a hand through his appealingly rumpled hair, with a git-like frown on his face. (Note: the author really hates Ron).
Ginny, forever rational, jumped in, breaking off her staring-drooling-winking-flirting contest with Harry. 'Ron,' she said, 'can't you see Hermione's hurt?'
Ron blinked stupidly.
'You've been friends since forever,' she said, waving a perfectly manicured hand, 'but it isn't till now that you've finally noticed her.'
Ron blinked stupidly.
Ginny just sighed exasperatedly, and slightly dramatically. 'Don't you realise all that make up is just a façade to hide her angsty, tortured soul?' She took a deep, shuddering, heartfelt breath before continuing. 'She thought she loved you, Ron, and she relied and depended on that.'
Ron's jaw was agape. 'Really?'
His sister nodded. 'Did you know she was being abused and raped by her mother, father, uncle, grandpa, brother, sister, cousins, etceteras, etceteras, etceteras her whole life? Did you know that behind that glorious, radiant smile and the obsessive studying was a girl who didn't really know who she was? Did you know that she slit her wrists every night and wanked off with her wand and prayed that you'd come crawling into her bed to relieve her?'
'She did?' Both Harry and Ron looked shocked.
Ginny stared at them very solemnly, and then shook her head. 'Nah,' she said, and then she burst out laughing. 'But hey, that would have been a good plot device, huh?'
Ron and Harry just gaped at her. 'Huh?'
'But overused,' said Ginny, albeit slightly sadly.
'Huh?'
Ginny just rolled her eyes. 'HONESTLY,' she muttered.
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The next day, the letters arrived, and everyone tore into them enthusiastically and…
HERMIONE GOT HEAD GIRL!
She was speechless— but still talking. Using a handkerchief to daintily dab away her tears and keep her makeup intact at the same time, she spoke tremulously to Witches Weekly, who were somehow interested in the goings on of Hogwarts.
'So, how do you feel, Hermione?' Rita Skeeter asked, suddenly sympathetic and kind and very un-Rita-Skeeter-ish.
Hermione, still dabbing at her tears, said: 'Ohmigod. I'm, like, really pleased. Like, I totally didn't see this coming, like, you know, like, I thought that I couldn't actually get around to do this, like, this has been my dream for all my life! So, like, you know, I could stand up in the podium at Graduation day like Reese Witherspoon did on Legally Blonde, and, you know, deliver the valedictorian speech and say, 'Seventh Year, We DID IT! And then deliver the Head Girl speech, and say, 'Seventh Year, We DID IT!' again, because like, that is so totally cool and, like, I can't wait for graduation so I can begin the rest of my life!'
(Did you follow that? Anyways… this is just saying how Hermione's really happy…)
Rita Skeeter nodded understandingly, despite the fact that people didn't graduate from high school in England—they just left school. 'That's amazing, Hermione,' she said, nodding. 'That's totally inspirational, sweetie-pie.'
'Thankyou,' Hermione said, smiling and waving to the paparazzi, which suddenly materialised.
Oh, and did this WONDERFUL and AMAZING author ever mention anything about Hermione's new model status? Yeah, Hermione's an amazing gorgeous supermodel, just because.
'Well, the general public isn't surprised,' said Rita with uncharacteristic sweetness. 'After all… you are the most popular girl in Hogwarts.'
Hermione gasped, her décolletage strained as her cleavage heaved dramatically. 'I AM? I never knew! How come no one told me this before? I totally didn't know! I thought that bitchy slut, Pansy Parkinson was the most popular girl, 'cause, y'know, hello… she wears really short skirts and stuff, and fucks anything with two legs and a dick.'
'But purity is in, Hermione!' Rita said. 'No one likes a slut.'
Hermione, who had screwed the entire Weasley household—Ginny and Mrs Weasley not included, 'cause lesbian SEX is like, so uncool—just giggled, and widened her eyes and said; 'I totally agree, Ms Skeeter.'
'Wizarding England LOVES you, Hermione,' Rita said, smiling. 'They LOVE your image.'
'Really?' Hermione fluttered her eyelashes. 'I never knew! You know, I spent a long time on this image. I was going to go Goth girl at first, since its like, you know, SO COOOL, but then, I thought vintage rocks, and then I thought, no, clean, sweet, innocent school girl is the best. So, there you go!'
'Would you care to trade any secrets to Witches' Weekly, Hermione?' Rita asked eagerly. 'They LOVE you.'
'Thank you,' Hermione said shyly, lowering her lashes and crossing her legs. 'But I don't really have any secrets. I'm sweet and clean. Thank you for your congratulations on my making Head Girl, though.'
'Thank YOU, Hermione,' Rita said, conveniently disappearing out of the plot and story.
'You totally deserved it, 'Mione,' said Ron, who was still trying to wheedle himself back into her good graces.
Hermione took a few gasping breaths, and managed to maintain her smile. 'I was just wondering, though,' she said, prettily thoughtful. 'Who is Head Boy?'
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Somehow, in the matter of days, Harry had a change of heart, and decided that it wasn't Ginny, but Hermione who was the one for him.
Gleefully, they copulated every chance they could in The Burrow, and by the end of the holidays, had managed to do 'it' in every single variation and position possible.
(Insert several paragraphs of omG! Orgasmic graphic SEX here, 'cause although the author has never had SEX before, she has plenty of imagination and is just DYING for reviews from her fellow never-been-shagged peers.)
The first day of school finally arrived, the forever maternal and paternal Mr and Mrs Weasley, having been oblivious to most of the highly active going-ons in their house, hustled the kids to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
'Ginny, where are Harry and Hermione?' Mrs Weasley demanded, looking nervously at her watch. 'It is nearly quarter to eleven!'
Ginny paused in the middle of toting her trunk to the Weasley's hired government car. 'Doing 17 in Percy's bedroom,' she said sourly. She was Not Happy at Hermione taking away "her Harry".
'Really?' Mrs Weasley said, wide-eyed. 'I checked five minutes ago, and they were at 69. Children these days are so… physical!'
Ginny sulkily sulked. (Readers applaud 'cause Ginny's such a BITCH anyway…)
However, miraculously, they ended up arriving on the train platform with almost an hour to spare (conflicting points? Me?).
Hermione, dressed in a shorter-than-usual mini and a barely there top to show off her impossible cleavage, just hung around, gripping onto Harry's arm possessively and whispering sweet nothings into his left ear when suddenly, Draco Malfoy arrived.
During the summer holidays, Draco Malfoy had gone on an exchange to Durmstrang (what's this SHIT about there being no school anyway? This is fanfiction, people. FANFICTION. I can make up what the FI want. Thank you, peoples and keep on reading), and returned "SUDDENLY" a foot taller, with an added fifty pounds of muscle, and good looks enough to land him on a Playgirl—pardon me, Playwitch—centrefold. Suddenly, he was very much interested in SEX. This author blames it on HORMONES and PUBERTY. (Yeah, five years later: eye roll:)
So, he sauntered through the platform, completely ignorant of the heads that spun to look at his direction. (Oh, and did I mention he was smoking? Oh YEAH. He was smoking, 'cause he's such a badass. :)
Of course, being as SEX GOD LIKE as Draco was, with his AMAZING six pack and VISIBLE biceps and SILKY BLOND HAIR, he knew that girls all over were just checking him out and wishing he was theirs.
However, Draco was like, SOOOO disinterested, 'cause he had already fucked all the girls in the whole school anyway.
Except for one.
Hermione Granger. (Cue for Cruel Intentions-esque music. I loooove that movie)
'Yo, Malfoy,' said Blaise Zabini, appearing out of nowhere, wearing a plaque around his neck that said, "Plot device". 'I wanna make a bet, and I'm betting XXXXXXXXXX amount of Galleons that you can't have SEX with that Mudblood before the year's over.'
'You wanna bet?' Draco said idly, lifting one god like hand and flicking it through his hair. 'Zabini, dude. I can fuck anyone anywhere at anytime. You have a deal.'
Blaise conveniently slipped out of the plot, to be replaced by a super-slutty-skanky looking Pansy Parkinson. 'Hey, baby,' she said, sticking out her barbell-pierced tongue. 'Heard the latest from our Lord. He wants you to go on a secret mission.'
'Yeah?'
'He wants you to marry his daughter,' said Pansy.
Draco snorted. 'He doesn't have a daughter.'
'Yeah yeah, whatever,' said Pansy. 'I know we planned to get hitched this summer, but y'know, pity it didn't work out and all. Boo hoo.'
'Parkinson, bugger off,' said Draco, because the author wanted the plot to start hurrying along.
'Wanna fuck?' Pansy said.
'No,' Draco said.
URGH ENOUGH OF THIS ALREADY! The author seethed, kicking Pansy out of the scene. All this stupid hinting stuff is SOOOO boring!
Back to Hermione!
Hermione stared at Draco, barely able to believe her eyes. 'Good God,' she whispered. 'How can that be Malfoy?'
She was seriously finding him more than hot, and was wondering what lay below the tight tight material of his leather pants (he's wearing leather pants, guys. SQUEAL!) Although she could sort of make out something… but that looked a bit too big for words.
'Yeah, Malfoy,' said Harry sourly, glaring at Draco with hate filled eyes. 'What a bastard. He should jump off a cliff and die.'
'Harry, you shouldn't say things like that,' Hermione said, 'even though I totally agree, even though it may be a total waste of good looks.'
Harry just looked at Draco and SIMMERED JEALOUSLY.
Ron just looked at Hermione and swooned, and then looked at Harry and SIMMERED JEALOUSLY. (Can you see some sort of love SQUARE thing forming here? Aren't I just SO SMART?)
Ginny just scowled, and glared at Hermione, wishing her the worse. (Make that a LOVE PENTAGON.)
Draco strolled passed them, with the legions of fan girls scurrying after him, gazing worshipfully at his butt (he has a nice butt). Upon reaching them, he exchanged snarky comments with Harry and Ron, and then just looked at Hermione and winked.
Man, he was thinking to himself, is that Granger some hot piece of ass.
'HE WINKED!' Harry said, stating the obvious.
Hermione felt hot and flushed all over. She turned to Ginny and then they both squealed. 'OMG!' (Differences temporarily solved).
Almost a second later, a letter appeared rather unsubtle way in Hermione's hand and she opened it. It was pink. It was a love letter.
To my sweetest, most gorgeous, most wonderful love, Hermione, the letter read. I have been watching you for a long time now, and love you to bits. I wish you were mine. I love you.
(INSERT ANGSTY POEM HERE ABOUT DEVOTED, UNREQUITED LOVE)
Love from your secret admirer.
'You have a secret admirer!' Ginny gasped. 'How romantic!'
In saying this, she was eying Harry, who was looking quite pale.
'Whatever, Ginny,' said Hermione coolly. 'I love Harry. I'm a devoted girlfriend. I'll pretend that I don't know I'm about to break up with him in ten days time.'
'Bitch,' said Ginny, stalking off…
Hermione was about to rush onto the train to find an empty carriage for further copulation with Harry when Mr Weasley stopped her.
'Hermione,' he said tersely, 'I have to talk to you.'
Waving at Harry to go on the train without her, she allowed Mr Weasley to drag her to the side. 'Yes?' she demanded impatiently.
Mr Weasley knotted his hands nervously. 'Hermione,' he said warily. 'I have something to tell you.'
Hermione arched on perfectly plucked eyebrow. 'Yes?' she enquired.
'Well,' he said tentatively. 'Hermione… you're a Pure blood. You're Voldemort's daughter.'
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nOtes: cue for GASP SHOCK HORROR This is the reviewers cue to start reviewing, or otherwise, the author will punch a hole through their head.
Kidding. Kidding.
This is basically a bunch of clichés all mixed into one fic. The stuff that is used to the point of overuse and it's absolutely, utterly meaningless, because our fandom is currently at the point where… seriously, it sucks. Half of the fics currently uploaded involve Hermione being Head Girl and Draco being Head Boy, and if that's not happening, they're suddenly gorgeous, Hermione's suddenly a pure blood, and they've been in love with each other for ages, or they're getting abused, having impossible amounts of SEX, they're anorexic, they're suicidal, they've been raped—cue for weep weep sob do we even give the crap?
BORING.
I mean SERIOUSLY. We're all capable of SO MUCH MORE! And that's what we should do!
Guess what? There's actually going to be ANOTHER CHAPTER, where this epic tale is going to be continued and all the clichés possible shall be stuffed into this one very, very sad fic. So ciao. Toodles.
