Disclaimer: I borrowed names, places, etc. from Ms. J.K. Rowling to serve as a medium for my dementia. I have taken great (very, very great) liberties with her work, and if such offends, I suggest you leave.
Warning: What you are about to read comes from a deranged mind with a love for J.K. Rowling's books and a distinct inability to take anyone or anything (including herself) seriously, except under the influence of certain controlled substances which serve to shove her rudely into reality. Said substances were not used in the making of this fan fic.
xoxoxoxo
Blaise stopped in the corridor, arguing with himself, noting in dismay that he and he were both losing miserably. Finally, he turned around in the direction Hermione was headed. Perhaps if he helped her with the spastic Weasley she would be more endeared to him.
xoxoxoxo
Hermione awoke with a jolt. "Holy Hell," she yelped. "This is so not my dorm room."
She had regained consciousness in a small town, which seemed to be on the verge of burning to the ground. She was surprised to find night had already fallen - for exactly how long had she dozed off?
She watched in shock as figures cloaked in black threw hexes right and left, obviously thrilled at the mayhem that was resulting from their actions. Hermione wondered why their victims weren't fighting back when she heard tires screech and saw the car skid off the road. Were they-? Was this-? She noticed all at once the mailboxes, bicycles, and power lines. Of course the people couldn't retaliate - they were Muggles.
The townspeople were screaming in terror, and seeing a woman with infant in arms running from a Deatheater, Hermione felt a flash of rage that anyone could attack defenseless innocents.
She reached for her wand, realizing with a panic that it was not on her person. A wicked cackle made her look up in alarm.
"Didn't expect to see you here, Mudblood." She gasped as she saw Lucius Malfoy's face grinning maliciously down at her from beneath a black hood. "And what a pleasant surprise it is." He smirked and pointed his wand at her.
"Avada-"
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Ginny, still a bit pink and lightheaded due to her hysteria, determinedly wove her way through the empty hall. In her efforts to avoid collision with things that did not exist, she ran straight into one that did.
"Ow! Dammit, Zabini, watch where you're going!" She sat up and rubbed her head.
"I- what?" Zabini paused from pulling himself to his feet. "You were the one tearing through here like a mad, drunken woman! And what's wrong with your voice?"
"Absolutely nothing, you clumsy snake," she spat in her odd raspy squeak.
"There is so! You sound like you swallowed a duck with tuberculosis."
Ginny glared up at him and held out her hand. He stared at it as though she were handing him a bomb wrapped in a three-legged squid.
"Well? Aren't you going to help me up?"
Realization dawned, and he took her hand and hauled her to her feet. Honestly, the boy was as slow thinking as prior mentioned squid was walking.
She brushed herself off, sneered at him haughtily, then commenced winding her way down the hall.
"Hey, wait!" he called after her. "Weren't you with Hermione just a little while ago?" He jogged after.
Ginny smiled wickedly. "Like her, do you," she stated more than asked, with a frightening sort of glee.
He blushed slightly. "Well, not in- I mean, yes, but- not really it's just-"
Ginny tilted her head to the left and considered him. It was too good to be true - two victims in one day.
The expression on her face left Blaise feeling quite threatened; he could almost see her incisors extending as she grinned.
"Aww! You do like her!" Ginny cooed maliciously. "That's so sweet! But what about dear Malfoy? Won't he be hurt?"
"I am not sleeping with Draco Malfoy!" Zabini yelled, just as a group of third year girls paraded down the hall. They all immediately burst into giggles, and ran to share the news with their friends that Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy were having a fantastic love affair.
Blaise put his head in his hands. "Look, could you please just tell me where she is?"
"Here."
He looked up and realized that they had reached the portrait to the prefects' dorms. Well, duh. Why hadn't he thought of that?
"Because you're an idiot."
He looked at the redhead in alarm. The little rodent couldn't read minds, could she?
"No, you're just so transparent I'm surprised that birds don't smash into you daily."
He decided to test her, and thought for a moment.
She promptly kneed him in the groin. "Don't you dare think that about my mother," she hissed. She gave the password and the young girl from the 16th century featured in the portrait swung open the door, sniggering at the Slytherin's misfortune.
"It was actually Ron, not your mother," he rasped from his fetal position on the floor.
Before Ginny's unruly mind could conjure a terrible mental image, an earsplitting scream was heard from inside the dormitory.
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Harry suppressed a scream of frustration and snapped his quill in half. No, that wouldn't work, either.
He had retreated to the prefect lavatory to formulate a plan for courting Luna, but it wasn't going well. Most of his plans looked like Quidditch plays, and he suspected it was due to the influence of two books resting innocuously in the sink beside him. He hadn't before realized the innuendo that flooded the game and he probably could never again play without blushing horribly.
He also didn't think that the rules of Quidditch applied all that much to dating; Luna might not appreciate it if he tried for the golden snitch too soon. And he really wasn't too crazy about the idea of bringing in twelve other players.
He paused as an idea came to him, one that didn't involve Quidditch in either sense of the word. He scribbled on the parchment for a moment, his chicken scratching (-snicker-) even more illegible written with only half a quill. Leaning back to survey his work, he smiled. Hopefully it wouldn't end up like the greenhouse fiasco.
He bent to make another note, when a scream tore through the air. He leapt to his feet, slipped on the tiled floor, and fell into the toilet. His second attempt to stand failed as well, so he crawled quickly out into the common room, just in time to see Zabini put his foot through the girls' door.
"Well, that didn't go as planned," Blaise quipped with a grimace, wrenching his foot out the wood and preparing for another go.
"It's not locked, you moron." Ginny shoved him out of the way impatiently. She turned the knob and threw open the door
"What's going on?" Harry questioned.
Blaise looked down at the Gryffindor, bemused. "Why is your bum wet?"
Ron stood from the sofa before the fireplace, where he had been napping concealed from view. "He was sitting in a urinal," he informed Blaise.
"I was not!"
"You were so; I saw you!"
Blaise could now smell something a bit odd, which gave credit to Ron's claim. He took a step back from Harry.
"Well, I was earlier, but that's not why my pants are wet now! I fell into the toilet," he explained. "I was thinking about this girl and-" Ron fled the room, not wanting to hear any more. "No! If you'd let me explain-"
"That's okay, Potter," reassured Blaise, inching further away. "You don't have to tell us. In fact, please don't."
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After washing his hands thoroughly, Draco slipped on a pair of dragon-hide gloves and gingerly picked up the basket. Holding it out in front of him, afraid to come in contact with it, he departed from the boys prefect dorms. As he trotted down the steps he heard a scream, then the distinct sound of an idiot putting a limb through a door. However, after living in the Slytherin dorms for five years, he had grown accustomed to such noises and gave the racket no notice. A fatal mistake, as it were.
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Hermione screamed as she snapped back to reality, and quickly ceased the unnecessary noise. Gasping for air, she scanned her whereabouts. Never had she been so happy to find herself in a girls' dorm room, which smelled distressingly like a boys' locker room.
Before she could complete the thought of wondering how badly the boys' dorm must smell, someone's expensive-looking leather shoe appeared in the door. Realizing the shoe was attached to a foot (presumably attached to the rest of a person) she hurried over to it. However, the foot vacated the door, which burst open before she could reach it.
"Huh?" was the articulate response she managed before something red and black flung itself into her arms. "Ginny?"
"Hermione! Are you alright? We heard you scream!" Ginny pulled herself away from Hermione and began check her for injuries.
"We?" Sure enough, Blaise and Harry were in the doorway, one standing, the other on his knees, and both looking quite uncomfortable: Blaise because apparently it was his foot that had become so well acquainted with the door and Harry because he seemed to have spilled something on his pants.
"It was really nothing," began Hermione, attempting to detach the redhead from her person. "Just a little nightmare; I-"
"Say, what's going on in here?" Draco interrupted, pushing his was into the room. "Oh, Weasley, there you are. Listen I wanted to- OW!"
"Malfoy, give me my book back this instant!" Ginny demanded, holding out her hand.
"But you threw it at me!" Even as he protested he leaned over to retrieve the unabridged edition of Hogwarts, a History.
"And now I want it back!" She snatched it from his hands and hit him with it. "Now what do you want? It had better be important."
Draco held up the basket. "I have-"
Ginny took one look at the pink and white monstrosity clutched in his hand and deliberately incorrectly guessed his response. "Look, Malfoy, can't you get Crabbe or Goyle to play dress up with you? I'm busy now."
"No, it's-" He tried to give her the basket.
"Dammit, Malfoy, you're such an insensitive prick," she accused with a glare.
He blinked at her in disbelief. "What?"
"Hermione's obviously upset and all you can think about is yourself."
"But-"
"And what exactly are you trying to say here? That I smell bad, thus need perfume? That I'm ugly, thus need more make up?"
"I-" Draco was horribly flustered. This was not going well.
"Plus, I'm already with someone." She reached out and grabbed Hermione's arm, hauling the girl to her side.
Hermione's eyes widened. "Hey, let's keep me out of this, okay, kids?" she requested nervously, for Ginny was in a frighteningly unpredictable mood. She tried to send a telepathic SOS to Blaise and Harry, but they paid her no heed. Blaise had joined Harry on the floor and they were both engrossed in Ginny's verbal attack on Draco. Harry had somehow managed to procure some popcorn, while Blaise was munching on her beloved jelly beans. She glared at the thieving Slytherin and wondered if Ginny would loan her that book for a moment. However, the redhead seemed to still be using it.
Ginny shook her copy of Hogwarts, a History threateningly at Draco. "So bugger off, Ferret-boy," she concluded. As a grand finale, she blew a raspberry and chucked the book at him.
He stood perfectly still as it once again rebounded off his head. For the first time ever, Draco Malfoy, who normally never shut up, was speechless.
Well, he thought, at least this means I get to keep the lipstick.
xoxoxoxo
I'm terribly sorry, everyone, but this will prolly be the last update for a while. I get my wisdom teeth out tomorrow morning (the drugs might make my writing cooler, I'll have to consider that) and then I head off to college. Which means I won't be able to harass my betas (my sister, who wrote my profile, and my brother, who is oddly competent at assuming Luna's character) at all hours for help with the story.
So next time I update, I'll either be insanely doped up on pain killers or it'll be Christmas. We'll have to see how things go tomorrow.
Wish me luck!
