Chapter Six

That night Harry and Hermione snuck out of the Gryffindor common room. The Creeveys had nearly ripped them to shreds when they were told they couldn't go to Diagon Alley with Ron. They stopped when Hermy again whipped out her ultimately superior level of intelligence and sung them to sleep like a giant three-headed dog who's name is mildy ironic with a quick chorus of Weasley is our King. They seemed to relate to the song somehow. Dennis fell asleep, mumbling, "Weasley can save anything, He never leaves a single ring..." softly. FLASHBASK!

"Never thought of it that way." Harry said as they were walking away. He looked confused when he saw Hermy making jagged motions across her throat with her finger.

"Are you choking?" he asked firmly, recalling the posters he'd seen in a restaurant.

"No," she hissed in a very un-Hermy manner, "That was obvious slash! Are you trying to get us killed off?"

Harry's mouth formed a perfect circle.

"Quick!" Hermy said panically(don't bother to look it up, it's a word, I already did. I swear. Don't go near that dictionary!), "Let's do something to cancel out the gayerousity(that one too) of that statement!"

"Okay," Harry ran his fingers through his hair really frustratedly, "Let's think of a completely original situation in which the two of us would end up in positively not queer positions."

"Right," Hermione mumbled, "I know! Let's pretend that you're awesomely depressed because Sirius died and you are the boy who lived and I'm the sexually deprived best friend who comes running in to see whatever is the matter and realize that omg! you're sexually deprived too so then we end up in ungay positions professing our suddenly undying love for each other!"

"Wow!" Harry said, impressed "you're amazing!"

"You dont look depressed, we should dye your hair black or something." Hermy said tilting her head and putting her index finger on her temple in ponderment(don't even bother).

"My hair is black." he said.

"Oh yeah, coal black hair, emerald eyes, blah blah blah. I forgot."

Harry looked hurt, tears welling up in his lilypad(hey, it's more original than your's) colored eyes.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione said, running into his arms. They felt so welcoming, like she was always meant to be yawn in his arms. Something something warm something romance something something always wanted something something never knew something something lips crash(oh how sweet, look how their lips are smashing into each other like demolition derby cars.) something something towards bed something something push something something OW, NO PILLOW TO SUPPORT OUR LOVERLY(that was intending to point out that they are now considered lovers. woot for totally unobvious diction) HEADS!

"Well that ruined the moment." Harry said, rubbing the back of his skull vigorously.

"Yeah but we've cancelled out the homosexuality and somewhat purified the story." Hermy replied.

"Like Brita. And also delayed the moment when you finally lose your virginity to me creating suspence that will keep the readers minds off whatever me, Malfoy, Ron, and the Creeveys happen to be doing in that broom closet downstairs."

"Wait, I'm still a virgin?" she asked.

"Yup."

"Damn." Hermione said, then suddenly exclaimed, "Downstairs! "We're supposed to be picking up Malfoy then saving Ron and then going shopping! We're late!"

"If only there was some way that might exsist in this universe or even in this room cough cough hint hint that would conveniently send us back in time and help us save more than one innocent life, I mean break out Ron and go shopping." Harry said downinthedumpsily(looked that one up too).

"Wait!" Harmione said, "Dumbledore let me have the time turner back this year because it adds more of a plot!" She pulled out the tiny hourglass on its gold chain. The chain suddenly remembered its point and grew four feet. Hermy flung the chain around Harry's neck and flipped the time turner over. FLASHBACK! Whoosh!

Harry and Hermione suddenly appeared in the same spot. Only an hour before. Congrats to Hogwarts on successfully turning into a giant clock(with the assistance of Alfonso Cuaron, of course. He's so good with subtle foreshadowing in imagery).

Hermione tucked the suddenly one foot long chain into her her (old) robes again and they set off towards the dungeons. The moment they stepped into the hallway they heard someone approaching.

"It's us!" Hermy whispered, "We mustn't be seen!"

"I know!" Harry whispered back, "Do you think I'm stupid(we don't say stupid)"

"Do you want me to answer that?" Hermy whispered as she shoved him into a broom closet to hide from themselves. Again. FLASHBACK! Good times, good times.

"Well this is certainly a lowered level of gayerousity." Harry whispered suggestively.

"It certainly is." she whispered, pushing closer to him in the dark. Harry found it highly dissapointing that despite the large mass of fanfiction readers that believe Hermione will come back to Hogwarts in her sixth year "bustin' out," her chest was as flat as always.

"Damn." he whispered. Hermy was about to ask what was wrong when a voice rang out from the back of the closet.

"Who's there?" It was Neville. Neville had changed over the summer holiday. Boy, had he changed.

His hair was no longer one shade of flat brown, but of perfectly wavy multi dimensional color. His chest and arms were sculpted perfectly because of all the chasing after Trevor he'd had to do over the summer. Hey, he doesn't play Quidditch, what else would perfectly sculpt his muscles with an unrealistic lack of effort? He was wearing georgeous purple boxers with somewhat of a bulge in them, just to make you cringe. He had a silk dressing gown on that looked distinctly like Dumbledore's. In fact, it was Dumbledore's, his name was embroidered into the breast pocket on the right side in gold lettering.

"Neville," Hermione gasped after giving him a once-over six times, "why are you wearing the Headmaster's dressing gown?" Headmaster. I get it.

That was not obvious.

"I...um..." Neville studdered like he was wearing Voldemort in an ugly, garlic-smelling, purple turban on his head, "I...Did you notice my SWEET new muscles!" He flexed his biceps. Both Harry and Hermione's jaws dropped. Neville stopped flexing and they shut their mouths.

"Where are you two going?" he asked, flipping his freshly highlighted hair sexily. Oh-so-sexily.

"To rescue Ron from Filch's clutches. We heard he's got new handcuffs this year." Hermy told him, barely able to contain her drool.

"He hasn't got them in yet." Neville told her as he inspected his nails carefully, "You can't go out. You'll be caught again, Gryffindor will be in even more trouble." FLASHBACK!

"You don't understand," said Harry, "This is important."

"I won't let you do it. I'll-" Neville again flipped his SWEET hair, "I'll fight you." He stuck out his finely chiseled chest. Dumbledore's dressing gown slid off his shoulders and he posed for a moment before hiking the sleeves up again and announcing, "I'll just go with you this time, I don't feel like being turned all rigid again tonight." I think he was reffering to Hermione's Petrificus Totalus charm in their first year. Maybe. Although that wouldn't explain why he's wearing Dumbledore's dressing gown.

"Fine," Harry told him, "Just cover up your chest or we'll never get very far."

The three of them set out in the hall and this time that actually reached Filch's office.

"Potter, is that you?" a voice drawled from the darkest of the shadows. Draco stepped out, proving that his awesome shirtlessness was just as amazing in torchlight as it was in candlelight.

"Who goes there?" Filch came rnning down the hallway. Neville used his newly developed common sense and jumped next to Draco. Draco twisted and conorted in his body in the glowing light as Neville flexed his Trevor-chasing muscles next to him. That kept Filch occupied very well.

Harry and Hermione snuck around him, unnoticed, and unhooked Ron from the old chains holding him to the ceiling. He followed them out into the hallway and they all admired Neville and Draco with their heads cocked to the side for a moment. Then Harry suddenly realized that they were supposed to be shopping and tore his eyes from the ultimate entertainment. He out a memory charm on Filch and they all ran out to the Entrance Hall as fast as they could. Now Draco's sweaty. Giggle.

"Neville," Ron exclaimed, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot." DOUBLE FLASHBACK!

Neville reluctantly stepped away from Draco. Damn.