A.N.: Don't own it. Wish I did.
Chapter Two: Not Funny Anymore
Walking into the Hall was the single most disturbing moment of her life to date.
The first thing she noticed was the changes in the staff table. McGonagall looked like a statue as she sat coldly viewing the antics of three Slytherin boys, a small smirk on her cold face. Snape, to her direct right looked…like some kind of summer camp counselor and not in a way Hermione liked. His hair was cut into a shaggy, stylish mop like a surfer. He was tan, and clean, and unless she was wrong, his nose was considerably smaller. He looked too good for her taste. Professor Flitwick was picking his nose with his wand as Professor Sprout and Professor Trelawney were doing advanced arithmancy in the air with their wands next to him. Professor Sinistra was reading the tea leaves of Hagrid, who sat in the Headmaster's chair. As Hermione watched, Filch came in and started handing out fresh spring flowers to all the teachers.
Hermione began to be dizzy. Maybe Pansy was right. Maybe she needed more sleep.
As she was thinking this, the three Slytherin boys McGonagall was watching (with great amusement, it appeared; the smirk on her face had gotten larger) levitated a toad through the Hall, laughing loudly. Hermione gasped.
The boys, all wearing cold sneers and Slytherin robes, were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom.
Before she had time to react to this, Crabbe pushed past her.
"Give me Trevor!" he howled. Harry just laughed cruelly and levitated the frog up into the rafters. Pansy, Goyle, and Blaise came in, and stared helplessly at the now croaking frog. The assembled students began to laugh as Hagrid rose. He pointed a wand at the frog, and muttered a spell. The frog dropped into the hands of the waiting Crabbe.
"Detention for all three of you. Please go with Mr.Filch."
"Oh, but sir, you know how I hate to give detentions." Filch whined, dropping his posies in distress.
"Yes, but in this case, these boys have earned it." Hagrid said firmly. Filch sighed, looking close to tears, and led Harry, Ron, and Neville off. As Harry walked past, he shoved her out of the way, muttering something about a Mudblood and his father.
"What a jerk." A familiar voice drawled from behind her. "I'd pay big bucks to see Potter and all his fellow Death Eaters take a fall. Don't take him seriously, Herm."
As he finished speaking, Draco put his arm around her a bit awkwardly and grinned. Hermione's eyes were pulled instantly to the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.
"Hey, did you get that Potions essay done?" Draco asked as he led her toward the breakfast table. "Because I was so bust getting ready for the Cup tournament I didn't have a chance to do it. Neither did Blaise, actually."
"So we were wondering if you'd write…I mean check ours for us." Blaise said as Draco and Hermione sat down in two empty spots at the Gryffindor table. He grinned too, pushing his dark brown hair from his face. It was long, and should have been in a ponytail, but instead was hanging loose and obscuring his soft blue eyes.
Hermione fumbled for a reply. She had pretty much ruled out the joke possibility at this point; no way would the whole school be in on it. Especially not Snape.
One thing she knew, though.
This was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to her.