((A.N. Disclaimer: The myriad beliefs pertaining to religion of any kind henceforth presented in this narrative/manifesto/dialogue are solely for the entertainment/amusement of our somewhat delusional readership and have no bearing whatsoever on our personal religious and moral sentiments and should not, therefore, be taken with any kind of disposition save frivolity and insouciance.))


Chapter 6; Wringley Brothers Meets Cleopatra Meets Steve Erwin

Hermione was on a train, and had a one way ticket to Dallas. She wasn't coming back. There was nothing for her in Hogwarts.

What purpose do I have in this world? Hermione thought despairingly. Why does nobody love me? What have I done to deserve this? Why should I bow down to my destiny? Is there even such thing as destiny? Is man inherently good or evil? Is there even such a thing as good or evil? Why is the sky blue? Is there life after death? Where did we come from? What is beyond the universe!

Hermione had a panic attack.

"I can't figure it out!" she screamed to the stars. "I'm supposed to be a know-it-all, and yet I can't answer these simple questions! I'm useless, I'm good for nothing! I'm a Worthless...Piece...of Scum!"

"No," said a voice from outside of the train window, "No you're not."

Hermione looked outside. "Dr- Draco!" she asked in shock. "What are you doing at a train station at three in the morning?"

"I came here to tell you something. I don't want you to go."

"Why do you care about someone like me, Draco!"

"Because I'm madly in love with you!"

"You told me love was like airline food! But now I see that you don't even understand that!" Hermione shouted, and slapped him across the face.

The train started moving slowly, and Draco walked alongside of it, injecting himself with morphine in the meantime.

"I don't care if you love me or not, but I love you, Hermione Granger!"

"Why are we talking in all italics?" Hermione yelled pensively. The train was speeding up, and Draco had to jog to keep level with her window.

"I don't know, but I do know that I love you! I want you to take my hand. Trust me! Just this once."

He extended his hand through the window, running full speed to keep up with the train. Hermione looked at his hand furtively, and finally put her hand in his own, whispering, "Don't you dare let go."

The train made a 179 degree turn the moment she took his hand, and she went flying out of the train compartment. Draco still held her hand, but she sailed twenty feet into the air. With a thump they both landed at the top of a hill, and began rolling down, entangled with one another. Hermione felt them crash through a roof.

"You must let go of these feelings," Snape counseled the group of nuns dryly. "By religious tradition, nuns are not allowed to have contact with–"

There was a crash directly above them. Two entangled teenagers landed on top of one another on the middle of the alter.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy!" the girl screamed to the boy on top of her.

They began passionately making out on the nunnery floor.

He had never liked the Malfoys.

"Oh, my," said one of the nuns, her eyes widening. Another nun fainted.

Draco looked up from his endeavors and caught Snape's eye.

"Is that you, Professor Snape?"

"I do not give motivational speeches to the nuns in my spare time," Snape said sardonically, before he skirted nervously out the door.

"Wait, Draco," said Hermione suddenly. "We can only be in a relationship under one condition . . it's your drugs or me."

Draco took out his opium pipe and looked at it longingly. It was Hermione, or the drugs. He had to choose. After having a long and drawn out internal debate in his mind, he raised the opium pipe above his head.

"I don't need you," he told the pipe, before bringing it down upon his knee. It split into two and clattered to the ground.

He began pulling drugs out of his pocket as he recited them.

"I don't need marijuana, I don't need opium, I don't need tobacco, I don't need morphine, I don't need Prozac, I don't need crack, I don't need Methamphetamine hydrochloride, I don't need Valium, I don't need steriods, I don't need Angel Dust, I don't need LSD, I don't need liquid carbon monoxide, I don't need alcohol, I don't need amphetamines, I don't need speed, I don't need heroin, I don't need smack, I don't need Vicaden, I don't need crystal meth, I don't need ecstacy, I don't need hallucinogens, I don't need drain cleaner, I don't need vodka, I don't need cocaine, I don't need Ibuprofen, I don't need permanent glue, I don't need battery acid, and I don't need these . . ." he stopped, looking at the small vile of pills he had taken out, "what are these? I don't even know. I don't even care!"

An enormous pile of pills, bottles, viles, pipes, cans, and needles had accumulated at Draco's feet. He kicked the pile and it went tumbling down the alter and scattered around the church.

"All I need is you!" Draco yelled to Hermione, as the sappy music reached a crescendo. He picked her up and ran out of the nunnery as fast as he could.

The nuns stared in shock.

Presently the priest entered.

He took in the hole in the ceiling, the drugs scattered around the church, and the lipstick stains on the alter. Then he closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. He addressed the nuns.

"I leave you alone for ten minutes, and look what happens!"


"I like to call it 'Wringley Brothers meets Cleopatra meets Steve Erwin.' It's my best plan yet, Wormtail," Lucius said with the characteristic maniacal glint in his eye.

"Explain this to me, Lucius. Slowly, and without any hand gestures," Wormtail said wearily.

"First," said Lucius, "roll me and The Weapon up inside of this oriental rug. Then, load us inside of the cannon and BLAST US THROUGH POTTER'S WINDOW!"

Wormtail was beginning to lose all hope in Lucius's plans.

"What is The Weapon?" Wormtail asked tiredly.

"A crocodile, of course. Isn't it brilliant?" Lucius asked proudly.

Wormtail sagged. "What was your inspiration for picking this sort of creature?"

Lucius held up a manual titled How To Scare the Shit Out of People For Dummies; Literally!

Wormtail had lost all hope in Lucius's plans. Literally.

After Wormtail had finished meticulously rolling both Lucius and the eight foot long crocodile inside the Persian rug, he levitated them both into the cannon.

"Wait, my less ambitious protégée! I need . . . that mop over there. And that curling iron."

Wormtail didn't even bother asking. He merely found the nearest mop and curling iron and brought them to Lucius obediently.

Within five minutes, Lucius had constructed an exact replica of Cleopatra's wig, which he placed ceremoniously on the crown of his head.

"Never forget your predecessors, Wormtail," Lucius whispered paternally.

"You were Egyptian?"

"Never mind that, Wormtail. Now blast me through Potter's dormitory window. I'm coming for you, Potter . . . eat my croc!"

Wormtail made no effort to visualize this scenario.

"Blasting off in three . . . two . . . one . . ."


Harry sat in the girl's dormitory, sipping a margarita on a jewel encrusted throne. He just so happened to be surrounded by the entire female population of Hogwarts and had obtained the exclusive attention of the media.

An unidentified Mariachi band played in the background, and Harry leaned back lazily, sipping his margarita.

"Unlike most self-obsessed . . ." he stopped to look in the mirror and fixed his bangs importantly, " . . . celebrities, I always have maintained . . ."

Presently there was a colossal explosion from outside the castle, and a few seconds later the window shattered. An oriental carpet unrolled at Harry's feet, and some sort of Egyptian dancer emerged. The Mariachi band began to play Egyptian music, and the strange dancer moved his hands like a snake in front of his face. Suddenly an eight foot crocodile assailed the dancer from behind, and the dancer yelled, "Wrestle the croc!"

"You guys are too much," Harry said casually, with an arrogant wave of his hand. "You ordered entertainment too? This is like a mix of Steve Erwin, Cleopatra, and the Wringley Brothers!"

The wig fell off as the Egyptian and the crocodile wrestled, and sudden everyone was aware of His True Identity.

The crowd gasped. "Lucius," they said as a whole.

Rita Skeeter pushed her way through the mob of people and leaned closer to Lucius and the crocodile.

"Lucius Malfoy . . ." she reported in a newscaster's voice, "This is your thirdthrawted assassination attempt in three days! How does it feel to be a complete and utter failure?"

Lucius frowned.

The crocodile commenced in tearing her head off.

The cameramen moved in closer, completely unfazed. "This is great footage!" the cameraman cried, watching his anchorman become torn to shreds.


Snape turned off the news broadcast.

He had never liked the media.

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