A/N: Glad to hear people are enjoying my 100 percent politically incorrect nonsense. Perhaps I should start a C2?
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor Common Room...
Hermione ran a brush through her hair once, sighing deeply when it became entangled in the fetid mass. "Oh well," she sighed aloud, hiding the raveled brush with a clump of hair from the other side of her head. "There," she sighed yet again, clearly content with her concealment. She whipped her hair around, consequently knocking Luna unconscious despite the fact that Miss Lovegood was standing a good five feet behind her. Hermione checked Luna's pulse, affirming, "I guess it's time for a hair cut." But when a burp escaped her airway, her tone became far more solemn. She decided to consult Ron about this. Surely he would understand.
She moved quickly, taking feathers to Mercury's feet, and in the process, kicking Luna's face in and leaving her dead on the floor. She dashed to the boys' room, kicked the portrait in (much to the Fat Lady's chagrin... she lost a few pounds, needless to say) and headed for Ron's cubicle. But Ron was nowhere to be found.
"Ron!" She cried desperately. "Ronald Weasley!"
"Unnnghhh," a voice moaned from the bathroom. "Muunnghhh!"
Not again, thought Hermione as she made a dash to the door. "Alohomora!" The spell did nothing. How could Ron have conjured up the magic necessary to resist an unlocking charm?
"Ron!" She would have to resort to talking him out of it. "Your life is not spiraling downwards into a black abyss! Put your razor away!" She let out an impassioned whine. "We can talk this over! We can get through this! Ron, hold on if you feel like letting go! And turn that devil music off!"
"Unngghhhh HermionUNNNGHHEEEEE do NOT uuuhhhhhnnggg COME UNNGHHH in..."
"Ron! I have a matter of dire importance to discuss with you!"
The last moan came, and then it seemed as though Ron started panting. "Bloody hell! Can't you just wait a Merlin-forsaken second and let a man have his peace?" Hermione heard the sound of zipping robes. Just then, she thought it appropriate to knock down the door. She was getting very good at kicking things in such a fashion as to open them.
With a crash, the old wooden door came tumbling down like the walls of Jericho, splintering into half a million shards of oak. But more surprising to Hermione than her inherent strength was the sight she then beheld–none other than that of Ronald Weasley shirtless and flushed, standing beside a putrid, yet still stunningly handsome, naked Cedric Diggory. She let out a frightful scream.
"Silencio!" With that, the noise stopped, and a panicked Ron pulled a shirt over his head. "Please, Hermione, you'll wake the whole school! Oh Merlin, don't tell Harry! I still love you, as well!"
But his pleas were useless. A silent Hermione sped out of the water closet, knocking unconscious and consequently murdering Neville, and anyone else in her path, which happened to be Seamus, Dean, the Creevey twins, Parvati, and Draco Malfoy, who was still running starkers throughout the halls. But, fortunately, the vile and sexy Malfoy blood still coursing through his veins rejuvenated him and thus, he was the sole survivor of Hermione's unintentional wrath.
With a thud she found herself staring into the black-robed chest of Professor Snape. He snarled, and then with strong, pale arms, pushed her away. "Finite Incantatem," he recited softly, a cold glare paradoxically burning in his black eyes.
Hermione sputtered. "I–I–professor!"
"Miss Granger, may I ask why you are running through the halls, murdering my students at whim? Five points from Gryffindor," Snape announced darkly.
Hermione furrowed her brow. "But sir, there were only seven of them who actually died–Malfoy's sex appeal revived him; I saw it! I believe five points is far too steep–perhaps two would be more appropriate?"
Such a comment garnered a sly smirk from her professor. "A hundred points from Gryffindor for arguing with a professor. And ten more for absolutely no reason at all. And by ten, I surely mean ten hundred." Hermione gasped. "There is, Miss Granger, a way for you to..." Snape's lips contorted into a purely evil grin. "Appease such a punishment."
"Professor? Are you asking me to..."
Snape nodded before ripping off his robes, only to reveal a second pair underneath. "Oh, pity, looks as though I forgot these were on as well. Nevertheless–"
Hermione was unfazed. "Where's Harry?" She asked urgently.
Snape's knowing smile quickly turned to a cold scowl and a bulge in his robes diminished. "Oh, you filthy mudblood! Five million and a half points from Gryffindor for making me lose my, er... excitement," he said with relish. "Ah, I suppose it wasn't quite time anyway. Very well, you may be able to help your mediocre wizard of a friend in his quest for my vengeance. Mr Potter has gone on his way to murder Dudley Dursley."
But just as Severus was beginning to explain Harry's feats, Hermione erupted into a man, sending him fleeing like a little girl. A very sexy little girl.