Bad Mental Images

Bad Mental Images

Harry Potter was by no means normal. He has a bad habit of attacking small animals in his free time and also has a sixth toe. But that's beside my point. He was also the only living wizard who survived the killing curse Avada Kedavra. Big Whoop. Anyway his life carried on eventually, with lots of angst and melodrama, yadda yadda yadda which brings us to the Great Hall during breakfast in his sixth year.

"Hi, Harry," says Hermione Granger, Harry's friend.

"Whass the dillio??"

Hermione sighed and sat down next to him, shaking her head.

"You know, Harry? I do wish you would stop with that ridiculous way of speaking, it's just not you..." she said, grabbing a pice of toast and smothering it in marmalade. Harry stared at her incredulously.

"Don't be playa hatin'!" he said with a serious tone.

Hermione took a bite of her toast and pulled a book out of her schoolbag, which proudly displayed a small Pokemon sticker.

"Right then," she said, averting her gaze to her book.

Just then, a tall red-headed boy with freckles sat on the seat across from the two, and let his head drop onto the table, rattling his silverware.

"What's ya beef yo?" Harry asked.

"Got absolutely no bloody sleep last night..." he said in a muffled and exhausted voice.

"Why not?" asker Hermione, concern flickering in her eyes.

"I couldn't stop thinking about her," Ron said, lifting his head and blinking as tears fell over his face.

Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to her book.

"Ron, it was a flobberworm, move on," she said, indignantly.

Ron shot daggers at Hermione who wasn't looking at him.

"We bonded!" he squeaked, chocking back pained sobs. Harry muttered "Fool," under his breath and pitifully stared at the heartbroken redhead.

Breakfast continued mostly uneventful.

     ~*~

Potions was next on the trios' schedule. The students from Gryffindor and Slytherin filed inside the room, chatting animatedly and taking their seats. The great bat of a man who was undoubtably Professor Snape strided into the room, his greasy hair shining in the dim light. He stumbled once and almost fell, but managed to contain himself and take his usual spot behind his desk.

"Today," he started, slightly huffing, "you will be making Dryian Potions. A Norweigen wizard of an unknown identity first brewed the potion in the mid-fifteenth century. The potion will, after adding the right ingredients, turn into a small animal,"

A maniacal grin spread across Harrys' face, but Hermione, knowing of his sadistic habit elbowed him as if saying, 'I don't think so.'

Harry lower lip potruded slightly in a pout and he sighed deeply, shoulders sagging.

After Snape had continued on with a long, boring lecture, the students were finally ready to make their potions. Adding the right animal parts would yield that animal. Harry decided to brew a squirrel and began adding crushed squirrel claws to his cauldron. Ron was hesitant, but finally decided to make a rat, and so added chopped rat tails. Hermione, who wanted to make the most gentle and harmless creature decided on a butterfly. Snape looked rather reluctant as he handed her the Monarch wings for her potion. After all of the potions were done, (with the exclusion of Neville's) a steam rose from the top of each one and slowly, all of the potion evaporated and an animal of that persons choice floated slowly to their desks. Their were squeals of delight from Lavender and Pavarti who had both created lovebirds. But those pleasured squeals turned into screams of fear when Draco Malfoys snake travled up onto the desk where the birds were perched and engulfed one in a single swallow.

Ron's rat had ran off the table and ran away, causing Ron to chase after it. Harry was busy holding his squirrel upside down by it's tail and laughing idiotically. Hermione rolled her eyes for what seemed like the fourtieth time today and watched as her butterfly gleefully fluttered over to Snape's desk. Snape looked at the small colorful insect nervously and Hermione could have sworn he flinched. Soon, the butterfly was two feet away from Snape. He let out a terrified, high-pitched shreik and ran out of the room, leaving the horrified children staring.

That was just the morning.

     ~*~

By Dinner time, Ron still had not gotten over his desceased flobberworm and Harry was still playing with his digruntled squirrel. The thing had leaped out of his hands and up his neck, but Harry had gotten him and again hung it upside down and laughed as it squeaked angrily. Hermione sighed and leaned her elbow on the table. Where on earth has all the common sense gone? she wondered. Since the episode with Snape, she had confirmed it. Hogwarts had gone nutters. Her moping was interrupted when a certain blond Slytherin had taken a seat next to her. Draco Malfoy. Obviously.

"I love you," he said as if he had held his breath for five minutes.

"What?" Hermione asked, perplexed.

"I love you, I said, I always have. From the moment I first called you a Mudblood until...now"

"Oh. Okay,"

"Well?" he said expectantly.

"Well what?"

"Well I am Draco Malfoy, the sexiest man in Hogwarts according to numerous fan-fiction authors,"

"And...?"

"AND?! Now, you're supposed to not beleive me and contemplate it for three days, then after deeply thinking, realise your passionate, undying love for me!"

"Oh,"

"And I will call you Granger for a while, then once I finally call you Hermione, you'll realise that I do really love you,"

"Okay,"

"And Potter and Weasley are not supposed to know. Our relationship will be a secret. Until your kidnapped or something. Then after a show of my personal sacrifice to save your life, everyone will find out and ultimately accept. Or they don't and we gotta...run away somewhere or something like that,"

"Well that's nice,"

"GRANGER? DO YOU HEAR ME!? I LOVE YOU!!"

"Well, frankly my dear, I don't give a damn," Hermione said casually, her eyes still pasted to her book, which had magically appeared classically leaning against her jug of pumpkin juice when you weren't looking.

"Oh ho! You'll realise it soon enough! You'll see! You'll all see!" He then broke into an evil cackle. The Great Hall went silent. Yet Draco continued. People must have became annoyed out or just plain scared because they started hurling various food items at him. He scowled and attempted to stop the incoming food by baring his pearly white teeth warningly, but that only earned him even more mashed potatoes in his hair. After he looked as if he couldn't take it anymore, he ran sobbing out of the Great Hall.

     ~*~

And this was all in a days work for Hermione. After a rather tiring day, she returned to her prefects dorm and began brushing her hair and looking at herself in the mirror.

"Hello Sexy," said her mirror.

Hermione sighed. Her mirror was quite a pervert. She had begun dressing in the bathroom after the mirror had started whistling, catcalling and throwing rather inappropriate comments at her. Ignoring his last comment, she made her way to the bathroom. But before she could open the door, there was a knock on her bedroom door. She turned around and walking to her door, opened it. There in the doorway stood completely dressed in thuggish attire was Harry. A red bandanna topped his head, his t-shirt was oversized and white, and his green boxers exposed themselves over low-hanging blue muggle jeans. A sly smile crept over his face as he eyed Hermione up and down.

"Harry, what in the world--"

"I'm so into you, H. Ima call u 'H' aight? Hermione's jus' too white,"

Hermione was speechless. What could she say to a person whom she had known for several years after he had just admitted his love for her dressed like a rapper?

She could say many things like "cheeseburger," or "penguin," But neither of them sounded quite right for the situation. So she stared at him blankly. Her eyes began to tear for a moment, but then she wiped at her eyes until they were dry again.

"You really do...l-love me?" she asked, her voice cracking a bit.

"Fo' shizzle! I'd tap dat anywhere, anytime. Wheneva I'm witchu I'm sprung like a mofo'..." he replied, moving his hands to her hips.

"I have no idea what you just said..." Hermione said lovingly staring into his green eyes.

"Your eyes are all brown. And pretty," Harry said.

"Harry Potter how shall I compare thee to a summers' day--" Hermione started but was cut off by an an anxious Harry.

"We gonna get freaky or what?" Harry asked impatiently, rushing past Hermione unromantically and throwing himself onto her bed. He proceeded to pull off his pants and bandanna, and sitting with his legs parted.

"Come right here, girl," he said smiling slyly.

Hermione's virgin brain buzzed nervously as she walked over to him and sat between his knees. She smiled sheepishly and farted softly, but Harry must have not noticed. Well if he did, he wasn't saying anything about it. Harry ran his hands through Hermiones hair, and she shivered a bit. It was nice though. Yeah.

"You know, mah homegurl can get your hair into some cornrolls if ya want, that would look tight as hell," Harry said.

Hermione snapped out of the very naughty vision she was having and turned to stare at him incredulously.

"What?" she asked.

"What??" he asked back.

"Harry make love to me. Sweet love," she said viciously grabbing his shirt and tearing it off his body. What was revealed was eye candy to Hermione. His chest was medium bulit and hairless, thank God. And he had abs. Pretty abs. Pretty abs from Quidditch. And using the lawnmower. Yes. Hermione hopped eagerly on top of him and kissed him. With her tongue. Suddenly there was a rush of air and a large transparent lion walked into the room. There were sparkly clouds all around him.

"Simba," he said in a heavenly raspy voice. Hermione and Harry froze and watched in horror.

"Remember. Who you are. You are my son and the one chosen King," And with that, he vanished in a puff of swirling clouds,

"Remember...who... you...are..."

Hermione acted as if nothing had happened and began on Harry's shorts. But Harry had pushed her hands away. She tried again, but again, he resisted.

"Harry! Let me get 'em off, please! I cannot and will not die a virgin!" she said desperately.

"But H! I...I..."

"What?!?"

"I'm...I...I haven't gone through puberty yet..." he said, his ghetto accent vanishing.

"And I have?!" Hermione asked loudly, her eyes wide.

Harry smiled. Hermione smiled.

The night continued on. Things happened. No, I won't fill you in on details. You have an imagination. Use it.

     ~*~

Meanwhile, somewhere nobody in Hogwarts knows about 'cause it's a secret...

"Wormtail, I am coming up with a plan. It's good. But bad. I think it is so good, it's bad. Or it's so bad it's good. One of those,"

"Oh! I have always admired you for your superior intelligence my Lord!"

"Yes, yes...fetch my duckie. It is time for my bath,"

"Absolutely my Lord!" said Wormtail, scurrying off.

Voldemort turned to look at himself in the mirror. He smiled shyly. He looked pretty. Very pretty. He remembered the song his anger class had taught him to sing in moments like these. He stared harder at himself.

"I feel pretty, oh so pretty" he giggled and began skipping about his room. "I feel pretty and witty and gay!"

Just then, Wormtail had walked into Voldemort's room room, duckie in hand. The notorious Dark Lord stopped skipping and tried to contain himself a bit. But he was happy. He couldn't help it. Wormtail said if he stayed happy for a week, he could go to Disneyland. Voldie wanted to go there. So he stayed happy. So with visions of spinning teacups in his mind, Voldemort, the world's most evil Dark Lord, went to take a tubbie with Duckie.

     ~*~

Back at Hogwarts...

Hermione strolled happily down a dark, damp dungeon corridor, muttering happy things to herself. She laughed for no reason whatsoever and did a cartwheel. Why was this bushy haired nerdette so happy?

"A-B-C-D-E-F-G!" she sang happily in a dreamy voice, throwing her books in the air and letting them fall as she threw her head up and extened her arms, twirling in a circle. She stopped when a book had landed on her head, knocking her out. She fell to the floor with a subtle thump. Moments after this freak accident, Draco Malfoy began walking down that same corridor. Seeing her motionless body on the floor, he started to run towards it.

"Oh, please say she's not dead," he muttered to himself.

When he had reached her, he dropped to him knees and put his arms under her, lifting her into his arms. He stared at her face. She looked so serene when she was unconcious. Well, doesn't everybody? She looked so beautiful asleep, almost innocent. Even more than her concious innocent self. An odd feeling of want rumbled in his stomach. Draco was a man of his...needs. His...desires. When he got that uncontrollable urge and hunger, there was just no ignoring it. A nice, hot bowl of Chef Boyardee beefy pasta would do. So with beef-filled raviolis on his mind, he dropped Hermione and sprinted eagerly to his common room.

     ~*~

Hermione awoke a few hours later. She was dizzy and confused.

"Ugh.." she groaned, looking at where she was.

"No...why am I in a bed other than mine? Oh this is so...absurd..."

"Awake, darling?" said a voice. Hermione's stomach dropped. She had shagged someone. But she must have been cursed. Or drunk. Because she didn't remember it.

"Uhm, where am I?" she asked, beginning to drag herself off the bed, but stopped when a much older man dressed in nothing but green Power Ranger underwear walked in front of her. It was Professor Dumbledore. Hermione screamed. Yes. Absolutely drunk. Very.

"What?" he said, twirling his fingers, "You've never heard of Hr/AD?"

Hermione scoffed. "No!"

"Well, my kinky little know-it-all, let's get down with this or I am afraid I will have to expel you," he said, coming closer to her. His breath smelled like old lemon drops and the twinkles in his eyes had ignited a fire in them. Oh great, Hermione thought, I'm being molested by a one hundred and forty year old man beginning his decaying process... Just as the old guy got on the bed, there was a loud boom and out of nowhere Professor McGonagall strode haughtily into the room. She gasped at the sight before her.

"Professor Dumbledore! How foul! And Miss Granger! What horrible taste! Fifty points from Gryffindor!"

Hermione sat there wide-eyed and confused.

Dumbledore smiled mischieviously at McGonagall, the maniacal twinkle in his eye filling with lust.

"Hello, Miss Kitty, would you like to join us?"

But it was too late. Hermione had opened a window and thrown herself out of it. After falling for about two seconds, she crashed through the thatched roof of Hagrids cabin. There was a lous shriek as Hermione hit the hard wooden floor and looked up, dazed at the sight before her. Hagrid sat on his huge bed, with his blanket over his huge, bare form, while Dobby the house elf lay beside him, his large eyes wide with surprise.

"OH. MY. GOD." Hermione exclaimed, fear rising in her throat.

"Dobby wasn't doing anything, he swears!"

Hagrid nodded hastily in agreement.

Just then a greenish head popped out of the covers.

"Where is our precious...?" said the raspy voice.

"Gollum needs to quiet up!" said Doddy harshly.

The ugly creature looked Hermione's way and smiled maniacally.

"Oh, hello! We did not see you there," said the skitzophrenic creature.

Hermione banged her head intentionally into the floor, attempting to purposefully damage her memory to totally earase this scene from it.

Why hadn't the fall killed her?

~END~