A/N: Let's play a game of twenty questions. I'll go first! Is it a person? Yes… ok… Does she own the rights to Harry Potter? Yes! Ok… Me? No? J.K. Rowling? … Damn!

Hermione sat silently contemplating the implications of the situation. What situation is it this time, you ask? Well, there are many, many situations this time. Situation one: Hermione woke up after her night of drinking heavily with Harry-fuckin'-Potter, only to find that she had a lampshade on her head and was in her skivvies (A/N: hehehe… skivvies is a pretty funny word!), and she couldn't remember how she had gotten this way. Situation two: She just remembered how she had gotten this way.

Flashba—

"Woah there! I can explain what happened, you don't have to pull us back into the past. Geez. I said I just remembered, didn't I? I don't want you guys in my memories!" Hermione continued to mutter, leaving the author to inspect some old CD cases she had just found. A few minutes later, the author snapped back to attention, catching the end of Hermione's rant.

"…and that's when they made me their chief. Wait… Wrong story? My bad. Don't sue me!" After a face-palm by the author, the story continued.

Flashback, for real this time

"Who's Victor? Nobody said anything about Victor." Harry managed to pass out after that statement, leaving the author in a predicament. Two passed out characters, and nothing to do. After doodling on their faces with permanent marker (A/N: I couldn't restrain myself!), the author gasped in shock as loads of people from Hogwarts came streaming into the room. An impromptu party had broken out! And so had the word impromptu! Moving on!

Hermione woke up, drunkenly joining in on a halfway done karaoke song. With the wrong words. As the other singers continued to sing James Blunt's song, High, in freakishly high pitched voices, Hermione screeched out the words to Justin Timberlake's new song, Sexyback. She also started to do the robot as she sang. How can she do the robot if she's still incredibly drunk, you ask? What is 'the firewhiskey was just water with some red-hots thrown in', Alex? Harry should be awake then, too, you shout! He's a light-weight, the author notes. True, you conclude. Cheers, the author adds, because she just got back from England, and feels rather English at the moment. Moving on!

Recovering from the incredibly long conversation between the reader and the author, Hermione started to dance on a table, drinking actual firewhiskey this time. The song Whip It came on, and Hermione grabbed the nearest lampshade to use as a hat. Hence, the lampshade on her head. But then came her next predicament! With her vision marred by the lampshade (A/N: Marred, though a funny word, sounds frightening.), Hermione fell off the table, somehow losing all clothes but her skivvies. What, you didn't think she'd lost them in some type of drunken strip-tease, did you? Tsk, tsk.

The party broke up, because the author didn't have much else to write about it. If she thought of anything else, though, she'd bring it on back.

It was at this point that the author realized that she was still in flashback mode, and glanced about warily before hitting the fast forward. Moving on!

Ron burst through the door, holding a new baby. It had red hair, yet brown eyes. It looked retarded, yet was probably smart (A/N: Hermione has been drinking a lot lately, though… you never know.) Thin, yet fat. Hehehe.

"Hermione! I was worried about you! I haven't seen you for over two chapters, and I was panicky! And angry! Unreasonably angry! Must be the steroids," he added under his breath. "Moving on!"

"You need to come home with me, Hermione. Come back to the home we've built… you, me, and our thirteen children." Hermione blinked at this point, thinking back. She may have been drinking quite a bit, but she doesn't remember popping out a few more kids over the course of the last few chapters. Sighing, she looked over at Ron. "Ron, are you stealing children or something? Because I don't think I ha—"

"Shhh," Ron said, pushing a finger to her lips to silence her. His hand slipped, though, and he managed to shove a finger up her nose. After grabbing a tissue, swiping feverishly (A/N: Ehm, feverishly is ok…) at his finger, and shoving it up her now bloody nose, Ron grabbed Hermione and ran off to their house with their twelve children.

Woah, woah. Twelve? Didn't I just say thirteen? Herein lies the next dilemma: Ron forgot his own child when he ran off with Hermione. Uh oh.

And here is where the author will end this chapter, because she's tired and hasn't written in such a long time. But she'd appreciate some reviews, even though this was a horrible chapter. And she'd like to know… what happened to Sirius? For real, she forgot all about him. Do you guys know what happened to him?