A/N: I re-dedicate this to my shrieking anonymous, naturally crazed fan type person. Here's to hoping people are around next time you screech! By the way, anonymous fan, I was wondering if you happened to know who owned these characters, because I was hoping that I could keep them. What? They're pre-owned characters? Pssh. I only deal in new characters. -Gives them to J.K. Rowling, seeing as she already owns them.-
Hermione sat silently contemplating the implications of the situation. Why does she always sit silently and contemplate the implications of the situation, you ask? Reply: She's done it the last two times, why not once more?
But I digress. Digress? -Author notes funny word.- The situation was incredibly serious this time. No funny business here… Well not yet, anyways. Moving on!
The situation is incredibly serious this time. Did I already say that, you say? … Shut up. We have a serious problem and you're being all giggly. Pull it together. There are song fics invading the semi-plotless, still-without-reality world of Harry Potter that the author has whipped together using sugar as glue!
Hermione sighed, obviously agitated by the author going off on a tangent… again. The author gives a little nod of her head, allowing Hermione to silently contemplate the implications of the situation. But as she went to go back into her classic 'thinking man' pose, Dumbledore rushed in. But isn't he dead, you ask? You seem to forget that reality doesn't really exist here. At least, as much reality that could exist in a world full of wizards and witches.
"Hermione, what're you doing? We've got a serious problem! Song fics have invaded, and I continue to do random things because of the words in a song!" Without warning, the aged (and supposedly deceased) wizard began a very unsavory strip tease. Why, you ask? Because the author has had more tea, that's why.
"Oh ehm eff gee (omfg, for you slower readers)," Hermione screeched, her hands flying to shield her innoc—wait… didn't she make passionate love on a kitchen counter a little while back? It is here that the author apologizes, allowing Hermione to cover her ho'ish eyes. "Professor, what in the Merlin, bloody, randy, bollocks… English words… is wrong with you?"
"Oops, I did it again," squeaked the Professor. Suddenly, italicized words started to float into view, the beat to Brittany Spears' song (Which the author notes she does not own. -Pleads- Please don't sue me Brittany! I know how much you read my fanfiction, and I don't want you to sue me over this? It's not that I'm a fan of yours, but it seemed rather appropriate for the situation?) … where was I? Oh, yes… floating audibly through the room.
Oops, I did it again
I played something something
I don't know the words
And I'm too lazy to look them up…
Oops, I did it again.
"What the hell was that?" Hermione blurted out. "Are we supposed to ignore that or something? I mean, it is right in the middle of the story. And that music is really anno—," but Hermione was cut off, a different song and more lyrics floating into the air.
AND IIIIII-E-IIIIII-E-IIIII… WILL ALWAYS… LOVE YOUUUUU-E-UUUUU-E-UUUU
(Disclaimer that magically appears in the song: BUT IIII-E-IIII-E-IIII… DO NOT… OWN THIIII-E-IIII-E-IIIISSSSSS…S)
At that moment, Ron burst into the room, sweeping Hermione into his arms and kissing her as passionately as he had in the first chapter of this fic, only with a tad less love-making on the kitchen counter. Hermione managed to squirm her way out of his arms, gasping for breath and trying to swat the italic words out of the air.
After failing miserably at getting rid of the words, Hermione settled for stomping over to Whitney Houston, who had magically shown up in the corner, and silencing her with a quick charm. How is that possible, you ask? Because reality has completely vanished, that's how. And who doesn't love a good Whitney Houston song every now and again, I ask. (I leave it up to you to reply.)
Harry suddenly backed up into the room, hands on knees, shaking his behind the entire way. What is going on, you ask? Why, reality has apparently allowed Harry to come back from the author's last fic and booty-shake all the way into the room.
"Harry! You're alive! But… what are you doing?" Hermione queried, but her question was answered only seconds later.
Back that ass up,
Show me what you're working with.
Blah, blah, still don't know the lyrics.
"Oh… ehm… eff… gee… I can't take this anymore. As Hermione throttled her way past all of the Hogwarts students and to the top of the astronomy tower, the author realized that reality had slipped up once again, turning the story from an increment of five years later type thing to a back at Hogwarts type thing. But how could this happen, you ask? Reread that last sentence and you'll know… freakin' mor—It was here that the author noticed that she might be sedated and cut short again, so she kindly said… Moving on!
Noticing that once again that, she, the author, had left Hermione suspended mid-step on her way to the astronomy tower, she let her continue. To fall. Up the stairs. But this time, into no one's arms. Apparently, there is somewhere else to fall. And that, my friends, is on your face. And so it was.
Hermione, however, was determined to finish what she had started. Clutching her bloody nose, she set off to jump from the tower and end her misery in this never-ending debacle of a fic. But as she free-fell, she somehow ended up landing in the Department of Mysteries. Well… this was interesting.
The author notes that she is going to leave you all here for the moment, because she has things to do. However, she will pick this up when she has more time; and this time with a different spin, because it's just better that way. Debacle! That's kind of a funny word, too! … Oh, is this still in the story? … … … Moving on!