What Happens in Vegas

Following her divorce from Ron, Hermione decided to splurge on a Vegas vacation. Cruising across the Nevada sky on her new Nimbus 7000, she searched for a suitable hotel. In the famous "Caesar's Palace" Hermione booked an entire suite for herself.

This is boring, thought Hermione, sitting on her bed watching re-runs on the 72-inch plasma television, I'm in Sin City, I might as well be have some fun.

Jolting upright, she clambered off the bed and began rummaging about her little beaded handbag. After much thumping and groping, she found what she was looking for- a tint bottle of Felix Felicis! She took a small sip, then, feeling exceptionally lucky, she decided to try out some gambling.

So, she quickly got ready, remembering to use liberal amounts of Sleakeasy's Hair Potion. Soon she was descending the Roman-style stairs in a midnight blue cocktail dress and 5-inch high silver stilettos.

As her heels clip-clopped towards the casino, her eyes fell on someone by the roulette table. Hermione's jaw dropped.

He had curly, sleek blond hair and handsome blue eyes. He wore a linen suit of the palest lavender. But the most appealing thing about him was his wide, charming smile. It was, of course, Gilderoy Lockhart.

After a few moments of shameless goggling, Hermione recovered herself and walked confidently over to the roulette table and said, "Why hello professor, I see that your favourite colour still is lilac. How charming…"

"H-hello Hermione! W-w-what brings you here?"

Frowning slightly at his stutter, she replied, "Hmm... Probably intuition! I knew I would get lucky here."

"Ah! Yes, of course, you were always exceptionally bright, my favourite student! Yes, um, well I really must get going, uh; need to start early tomorrow morning..."

But Hermione wasn't going to back down that easy, especially being newly single. "But Professor, I could really use your help tonight. Maybe we should head back to my suite?" she said coyly.

"No no, I really m-must leave!"

"You're not leaving until I'm finished with you", said Hermione, batting her eyelids flirtatiously. "Why don't we have a drink?" she said, leading him towards the bar.

After many a drink, Hermione stood up, teetering unsteadily on her high heels, caught hold of Lockhart's shirt collar and dragged him to the hotel priest. The priest, aware of what to do, skipped to the end. "Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take Gilderoy Lockhart to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Hermione hiccoughed, "I do." "And do you, Gilderoy Lockhart, take Hermione Granger as your wedded wife?" "Umm... Uh, I don't kn-" Hermione pierced his foot with her stilettos. "I mean, I do." The priest continued, "Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife."

Then, hobbling and tripping, they proceeded towards Hermione's suite.

Next morning, Hermione was ready to bear the after-effects of the hangover. She expected to wake up with a splitting head-ache, and was not disappointed. She sat up, yawned and stretched, turning to look at her hot new husband. But what she saw made her scream worse than the Bandon Banshee!

In place of the impeccable Lockhart was someone else. A podgy, dark-haired, very familiar-looking someone. It was Neville.

Hearing Hermione's scream, he woke up with a jerk.

"B-but, you're not who I slept with!" squealed Hermione. Neville simply stared at Hermione with his mouth hanging open. "Say something", shrieked Hermione. Neville blushed furiously and said, "B-but I love you Hermione, I always have." Hermione glared at Neville for nearly five minutes before saying, "But how did you… Oh, of course - Polyjuice Potion." Hermione mumbled. "Well I'm going now."

Neville jerked and said, "Where?"

"To get a lawyer", replied Hermione curtly. "A lawyer? Why?" said Neville, confusedly. "To file for divorce, of course. And fraud as well. Hmpf."

"But Hermione! I-I love you! Please don't leave me! Why are you doing this to me?"

Hermione looked Neville in the eyes and said acidly, "Because I don't do fat men".