Disclaimer: JK owns everything and I just play with her puppets and make not profit at all.

NEED OF A BETA: I already have a BETA... who I can't get in contact with. I would be very pleased if anyone, who speaks English very well, would consider becoming my BETA. I'd like the person to come from England. Please contact me at: hovsa underscorse henriette hotmail dot com (or check my info to make sure it's the right one)

day as a strawberry

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”Oh Hermione!” Lavender cried wretchedly. Hermione sighed, knowing that she was going to suffer another round of Lavender-being-a-horrible-monkey.

“Oh for heaven’s sake! Can’t you shut up?” Hermione sighed, frustrated. Lavender looked at Hermione as if she had grown a few extra heads.

“How strange!” Lavender said, after having regained herself. “I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me,” Lavender took a seat and started musing this. Hermione, who was out of peanuts, could not help hexing Lavender into a one-year-old mouldy strawberry.

“Hey, Hermione, Filch is dancing the funky chicken dance,” Harry told Hermione, as he climbed backwards through the portrait. Hermione stood, and gasped with sensation, and then hurried off as quickly as her little furry legs could carry her (side-effect of the poly-juice potion). She ran towards Filch’s office, wondering how Harry knew Filch was dancing, considering it would mean that he’d have had to go see Filch. Why?

She stopped.

And then she walked. And she turned a few times around herself and suddenly found herself facing a moulded strawberry.

“Mmm-mMMM,” said the strawberry.

“Moooo,” replied Hermione.

“Turn me back!” Said the little, moulded strawberry. Hermione rolled her eyes.

”No! Not unless you stop whining,” Hermione replied, evilly.

“Who are you talking with, Miss Granger?” A voice questioned and Hermione spun around in shock, only to face Snape, the evil bat of the-oh so dark dungeons. She did like everyone else did, when near Snape, and backed away, which made her step and slip in Lavender. She shrieked in surprise and was about to fall, but was caught by Snape.

“Oh sir,” Hermione whimpered, eyes rolling wildly in her head as if she was on the edge of unconsciousness.

“There, there, Miss Granger, come with me and we shall shag in my office. In a few hours you will perceive its good effects,” said Snape and Hermione nodded and followed him into his dark dungeons, where she ended up almost every night and after school throughout the rest of the year, to get better. A few years later their she-male child (author could not decide the gender) ended up at Hogwarts and upon a night of frolicking about the castle it slipped in something akin to a squashed and forever-slippery strawberry, and landed on Flitwick, and they, too, lived happily ever after. It is said, to this day and most likely forward, that if you want to get happy you must slip in the strawberry on the second floor, near the portrait of Henrietta the Gruesome Sun-Lotion.

Review or I'll make Henriette screech at you until you blow up! Bwahahahhah!