Author's Notes: Ok, b/c Merv kept bugging me about updating, I'm going to take a break from my other fic and write this. Happy?! grumbles. I don't own the bloody HP world, so SOD OFF! Oh, bugger it. Haha. British slang is fun, right guys? Hehe. Ok, I'm dedicating this chapter to make me feel special. I'm dedicating it to…..Jack! haha-liz.
Btw, if anyone can think of words that start w/ a "J" and and w/ a "K" review and tell me. Danke!
Chapter 13"I can't believe that bloody git!" Ron fumed to Harry.
"Which git?" Harry asked.
"Both of them!" he said, referring to Snape and Malfoy.
"I know! I can't believe he hit Hermione!" Harry practically screamed. It was an unwritten rule that guys are not permitted to hit girls. It's not that girls can't defend themselves, it's just not right.
"I'll pound him to a bloody pulp, the nark!" Ron growled, cracking his knuckles threateningly.
"Speaking of Hermione," Harry asked, "where is she?"
"We weren't talking about her," Ron countered, but answered anyway. "I don't exactly know…the library?" he suggested.
"She just went there this morning," Harry replied.
"She practically lives there. It wouldn't surprise me if she were back there…" Ron said.
"Let's go look for her," Harry decided.
"Okey-dokey," Ron said, happily.
"Ron," Harry said, seriously, "never—ever—say 'okey-dokey' again. That's very emotionally scarring to me.
"It sounds like a drug!" Ron exclaimed. Harry rolled his eyes and hit the back of his head.
"Let's just go, Skippy," Harry sighed.
"Skippy?" Ron asked, perplexed.
"I don't know," Harry responded, "—it just kind of popped into my head. And…I decided to just say it. SUE ME!"
"Did you know that that is a song from 'Guys and Dolls'?" Ron asked Harry; referring to a musical he went to see when he was younger.
"Can we please just go?" Harry snapped.
"What are you—a PMSing girl?" Ron laughed. Harry glowered. "Ok, ok," Ron said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Let's go. Where should we look?"
"The library," Harry said very slowly, like he was talking to someone with no brain cells. Scratch that, he was talking to someone without brain cells.
"Don't have to be snooty," Ron grumbled. They were both extra testy thanks to a certain Slytherin harming their best friend.
(A/N: Wow! A page already. For some reason, it's really easy to write this…maybe b/c I'm sick. Shut up! I know it doesn't make sense.)
"Hermione!" Ron called, very loudly, when they walked in the library.
"Are you dense?" Harry asked Ron. "We're in a library, and if you do not wish to get us thrown out, I suggest you shut up."
"Fine."
"Actually, I don't think she's in here," Harry frowned.
"There she is!" Ron yelled, happily, forgetting what Harry had just told him, not even seconds ago.
"Ron!" Harry hissed, quietly, but he was ignored as Ron was already bouncing towards the back of the library.
"Bloody git," Harry sighed. "Can't live with 'em. Can't live without 'em." Harry walked over to where Ron was skipping.
"Mione!" They both exclaimed and wrapped her in a hug.
"AAAHHHHHH!" she screamed and started swatting them, with a horrified look on her face. "Bloody hell!" she fumed. "What are you doing to me?!"
"Hugging you…" Ron said, slowly.
"Exactly!" Hermione screamed, throwing her arms in the air and pacing. "Don't ever touch me again!" Ron and Harry were both hurt by her remark; she had never protested when they had hugged before.
"Um…ok," Ron said, sadly. "We'll just…go…then."
"Sorry for bothering you…" Harry said, quietly. "Bye, then."
"Why was she so mean?!" Ron asked, once they had left the library.
"I'm thinking…PMS," Harry replied.
"Oh, right." Ron yawned. "That makes sense."
"Why don't we just go to bed and worry about this is the morning, eh mate?" Harry smiled, in an attempt to ease the tension.
"Sure," Ron said, monotonously. They trudged back up the stairs to the Griffindor common room, but stopped dead in their tracks when they say Malfoy standing in front of the portrait—looking extremely aggravated.
"Will you, please, just let me in the common room?!" Malfoy screamed sounding extremely exhausted. "I said the bloody password! AC/DC! AC/DC! Would you like me to tattoo the bloody password on my bloody forehead?! Just let me in!"
"No." The Fat Lady looked unfazed as she continued to file her nails.
"And why the bloody hell not?!" Malfoy yelled.
"Because you're a Slytherin," she replied, simply.
"SO WHAT?! I know the password!"
"Excuse me?" Harry asked, as he strode over, confidently to where Malfoy was standing. "But, can I help you?"
"Harry!" he exclaimed and enveloped Harry in a hug. "Thank goodness you're here! The Fat Lady wouldn't let me inside the common room!"
"Why would she?" Ron asked, answering for Harry; he was still gaping and highly mortified, even after Malfoy released him.
"Because I know the password, Ronald," Malfoy told him, vehemently.
"You're still a Slytherin," Harry said, finally regaining his composure. "And a Malfoy, no less."
"What's that got to do with anything?!"
"You hit Hermione, that's what!" Ron shouted at him.
"You're such a nark, Ron!" Malfoy yelled, and slapped him in the face. Harry was cracking up, despite the fact that his best friend was in pain. It wasn't everyday that you got to say a male Slytherin slap someone.
"Just go back to your boyfriend and leave us alone," Harry sighed; he was not in the mood for a fight.
"Fine! I will!" Malfoy shouted, not realizing that Harry had insulted him. "Hey—wait—shut up!" It was pointless, though, they were to busy wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. "ARGH! I give up!" He then stormed off to find Hermione.
(A/N: I'm not sure if I clarified this or not…but, they're going to be referring to each other as the body they are in, too. Ok? Just so you guys don't get confused.)
"HERMIONE!" Malfoy yelled as he stormed into the Room of Requirement.
"Wh—what?" Hermione sniffed from her position in the corner. She was surrounded my boxes upon boxes of tissues.
"We need to talk—about being a "girl."
"What about it?" Hermione asked, while choking back tears.
"Well, you need to learn about…mood swings…chocolate cravings…and feminine hygiene products," Malfoy told her, delicately, as to not upset her more.
"Ack!" Hermione screamed, jumping to attention as all of her sadness dissipated in a flash. It was now replaced by fear and anger.
"You have to learn!"
"NO, I DON'T!" Hermione countered. "Guys aren't supposed to know about that stuff!"
"And why not?" Malfoy prompted, his tone bored.
"Because it's icky!"
"Icky?" Malfoy rolled his yes.
"Yes. I don't want to deal with that."
"You don't have a choice." Malfoy reminded her, "Besides, you, quite literally, wished it upon yourself. You didn't have to make that wish."
"I did it so you would understand that I'm not a bloody death eater, and that my life is not all sunshine and daisies!" Hermione shouted.
"I'd hope not," Malfoy snickered. "Then, you'd have a lot of explaining to do…what with being gay and all…"
"I'm not gay."
"Suuuuurrrreeeee."
"I'm not!"
"Then would you care to explain why you're dressed in women's clothing?"
"You're mean," Hermione pouted.
"Back to business," Malfoy prompted, "have you started bleeding, yet?"
"I just started…that's why I was crying," Hermione said, swallowing every scrap of her pride.
"Ok, well, first. I'm going to cast a spell on you."
"What kind of spell?" Hermione asked, suspiciously.
"One that censors things…like in Muggle Reality TV Shows," Hermione shuddered at the mention of Reality TV. "How they have blurry box things so that you can't see certain stuff…"
"Okaaayyyy…"
"Well, it'll be like that, except it will block everything about the body your in that isn't for your eyes."
"No fair," Hermione pouted.
"You are a perv!" Malfoy yelled, and whacked Hermione in the back of her head, again.
"I'm a guy. What did you expect?"
"I expected you to not be a perv."
"You're delusional," Hermione quipped, cheerfully.
"Apparently," Malfoy huffed. "Now be quiet, so I can cast the spell."
"Fine."
"Censorify." (A/N: I apologize for my inability of creating spells. Deal with it.)
"How the bloody hell do you know spells like that?" Hermione asked him.
"I researched it after I granted your wish."
"I'm glad to see that you trusted me not to look," Hermione said, sardonically.
"I was right, wasn't I?" Malfoy snapped.
"True."
"Back to why I came…" Malfoy said.
"Please, enlighten me."
"This," Malfoy summoned a pad, "is a pad."
"What's that?"
"Are you really that clueless?"
"Maybe."
"Fine. Ok, this is a pad—"
"You said that already, Malfoy."
"Shut up, Granger."
"Fine."
"Anyway. You put it on your underwear and it catches the blood. You have to change it every couple of hours."
"That's disgusting." She wrinkled up her nose.
"Just put the bloody thing on—no pun intended."
"Fine," Hermione glared. "Be that way."
"I will."
Hermione came back into the room—an hour later. "What the bloody hell took you so long?!" Malfoy asked.
"Those things are confusing!"
"Oh please," he rolled his eyes.
"It feels like I'm wearing a diaper!" she complained.
"Deal with it."
"You deal with it," Hermione retorted, angrily.
"I do deal with it…for many years, now." She then added, as a side-note. "And, trust me, I'm enjoying this break."
"Sod off." Malfoy laughed at Hermione's anger. "Don't you have anything more comfortable?" she asked.
"I highly doubt you could handle it."
"Yes, I could!" Hermione protested.
"You don't know what the alternative is…and I doubt you could even handle hearing about it."
"Try me."
"Okay, if you insist."
Malfoy summoned a tampon and handed it to Hermione. "This is a tampon." He unwrapped it, to reveal a strange contraption, in Hermione's eyes, that is. "Guys tend to over-react when you shoot it at them."
"I don't want to know how you know that," Hermione shuddered.
"Let me demonstrate." Malfoy proceeded to hit the bottom of the tampon so that it came at her face like a grenade.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed and ran very far away.
"I told you!" he called after her, still giggling.
Author's Notes: Yay! A long chapter! I would write more, but my head is pounding. Bye!
Next Chapter: The joys of cramps.
Future Events: So, what's it like to be Malfoy?
