Chapter Something

Chapter 9875

It was a bright, sexual day. Hermione gave a sigh, as her hair blew in one big mass in the cool summer breeze. She turned away from the breathtaking view of glistening crystal ocean meets blue cloudless sky that was the Greek Islands, and stepped back into the fifty-billion dollar holiday villa that her rich as all fuck parents happened to conveniently own for the sake of fucking cliché fan-fiction.

She glided to the kitchen and flicked her wand at the espresso machine. 'My smartness is so great that I no longer have to chant the spells I need, but merely think them,' she said to nobody in particular, as the coffee maker stood unmoving.

'Any moment now,' she assured herself, thinking hard at the device. It did nothing.

She waited for precisely two days before knocking it off the bench and kicking it hard around the intricately woven Persian rug that lay in the sun-filled room. Ron happened to wake up at the same moment.

'Hermione,' he said tiredly from the doorway. 'What are you hoping to achieve?'

She turned her head slowly to his and smiled disturbingly. Ron was such a stupid boy.

'The art of my brain is ubiquitous, my indolent acolyte,' she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Silence hung like pestilence in the air, and the ocean breeze blew in from the open window, causing the pearl white curtains to sway gently. 'You really are a fuckwit,' Ron said finally, crossing the threshold and opening the fridge idly.

Hermione laughed like a bell chiming from a church. 'Oh, Ronald, I'm so happy you're here with me.'

Avada Kedavra, she thought determinedly at his back, while he rummaged through the food. He turned back to her and she put on an innocent smile.

'Yes, it's not bad place you've got here,' he said noncommittally. He glanced at the clock on the wall and stomped in anger, grabbing a lychee from the handmade fruit basket and quickly putting in the fridge, then taking it out again and hurling it out the window.

'What's the matter?' Hermione asked in wonderment as he paced in unrelenting fury through the villa, walking into each room, slamming the door then moving to the next.

'I haven't eaten breakfast yet!' he shouted, and she heard the distinct sound of someone running into a wall.

Tears flooded down Hermione's face, she hated to see Ron in pain. She followed the banging sounds until she found him. He'd apparently given up and was kneeling on the ground, a lost look in his eyes.

'It's okay,' she cooed, kneeling down next him and holding him close. 'No matter what happens, I'll always be better than you.'

This happened to cheer the youngest Weasley (Ginfuck was dead) up considerably. He jumped up and sprinted to the front door.

'Let's go, sweet pie of love!' he proclaimed and Hermione happily ran after him, clinging to his arm.

Before they could leave, a figure burst open the door, knocking the two sweet lovers to the ground.

'Fuck, who threw a fucking lychee at me?' said a pretentious fucking voice, that made everyone want to fucking swear.

Hermione was seeing stars, they were so fucking ugly she wanted to swear, or was it that fucking voice sounding distantly in her ear that she couldn't pinpoint? The stars suddenly disappeared and she saw a pale face staring at her from above.

'Oh fuck,' she groaned as she sat up, rubbing her forehead in pain. 'Who the fuck are you?' Her vision was still blurred.

'Granger?' said that pretentious voice she finally recognized to be Draco Malfuck's. 'Wow, what are the odds?'

'STOP ACTING LIKE A FUCK,' Hermione screamed. 'I KNOW YOU FOLLOWED ME HERE BECAUSE YOU SUDDENLY REALIZED HOW I'VE BECOME SUCH A HOT FUCK OVERNIGHT!'

He grinned lazily at her. 'I'm 38% lazy,' he said in a sexual tone.

Suddenly Ron woke up. He blinked and turned to Hermione. Then he blinked again.

'Fuck,' his blinks seemed to say.

Malfoy ignored both Ron and Hermione and stepped into the kitchen. He jumped up and down a couple of times and then frolicked onto the balcony. Hermione followed blindly out after him.

'Where's Potter?' he asked bluntly. Hermione had it wrong. Malfoy had actually become gay overnight and realized that he wanted Harry bad. How fucking convenient for more fucking cliché fan-fiction.

'You Know Who...Voldemort...k-killed him. How could you fucking miss that?' she whispered, tears springing to her blinded eyes.

'Well, that's a fucking nuisance,' said Draco tactlessly, jumping up and down again.

Hermione let out a whimper, she hadn't eaten breakfast either.

Exactly three hours later, Malfoy realized he was straight again, grabbed Hermione and kissed her hard.

At the same time, Ron closed the glass sliding doors that led out onto the balcony, locked them, and drew the curtains shut.

'Weasel, let us in you fuck!' Malfoy yelled irritably.

'RONALD, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, FUCKPIG!' Hermione whispered pleadingly.

Ron walked over to Hermione's parents' digital sound-system and turned on the radio full-blast. He heard banging next to his ear and saw Hermione's furious face mouthing 'FUCK' at the window. He pulled down the blind and did a little jig of joy.

With the Ketchup Song blaring in the background, Ronald Weasley sat cross-legged in the middle of the Persian rug and blinked.

'This is my house now,' he said.