by Lauren and Alex, who would like to note that this should in no way be taken seriously. We were bored one day, and makng fun of other fanfiction. Go us!

It was a hot, steamy day at the castle of Hogwarts. Hermione Granger, a well endowed, vivacious brunette with long, luscious tendrils falling down her sloping, pale shoulders gracefully floated down a bustling hall. All of the other students, wizards and witches stopped to admire her awe striking beauty. How could such a simple-minded girl become the most prized piece of flesh at Hogwarts? It seemed that only yesterday Hermione had arrived at the school, a short, stocky, flat chested girl of only 11.

Most of the men at Hogwarts were unusually well-proportioned as well, but Hermione soon tired of their lusty gazes and crude words as she passed them in the corridors. She hungered for a sweeter meat, something none of the boys here could give her. She needed a man, a bold, passionate man with a twisted nature....someone who could ignite the fire in her shapely loins beneath her hour-glass figure. Someone like...the Dark Lord himself.

Harry and Ron had both distanced themselves from Hermione as soon as they realized they could no longer "fit her needs." All throughout their six years they had tried to appease her, but to no avail. She grew tired of their inevitable thinness and Harry's constant obsession with...himself. Of course, Ron was a redhead. That should say enough.

But in Voldemort, Hermione saw all the power she had ever longed for, an unbridled passion, danger, oh yes, yes, YES! Over the years, Hermione had lost her youthful idealism, the Slytherin 7th years saw to that. But now that she was a 7th year herself, she found that she was unable to satisfy her growing passion. Although she received delicate gifts from many admirers, many of them from teachers, namely Albus Dumbledore and the young seductive Severus Snape who had recently undergone a serious operation upon his .... lower half, Hermione was reluctant to have her way with these suitors. She spent most of her time looking in the restricted section of the library, under the... V's. The only time she ever spoke to a fellow student was when she was inquiring about the Dark Lord's nature to Harry Potter who was always giddy with observable excitement when Hermione came within a ten feet radius of him.

"Well, he's rather.... squiggly," Harry explained one particular morning.

Hermione shifted in her stance, her long, gossamer gown brushed against her shapely, enticing hips. "Yes, but dear Harry, his face, tell me about his face."

"O yes, well, it's rather.... squiggly, and very much... his body," Harry blushed.

"His body.. O, his body.. tell me about his body.. certainly it is as succulent as his delicious face," she questioned.

"Sometimes it's... well.. it's green and kind of... transparent... and, um. That's about it." Harry lowered his eyes, reluctant to reveal to Hermione that Voldemort's face actually WAS his body.. but he figured she wouldn't care, seeing that she was utterly obsessed with the Dark Lord's unique physique.

"I must go to him," Hermione said determinedly, her voice deep as the red velvet brushing against her voluptuous figure. "To be with the Dark Lord...such a thing my soul desires above all else!"

Hermione found it rather difficult to sleep that night, so she clambered out of her revolving, four-poster bed lined in black silk sheets. Clad only in her silk teddy, she stepped lightly down to the common room. There, she finally closed her wide brown pools we call eyes and slept.

When she opened her deep eyes again she was surrounded by a voluminous green light. She felt warm and at ease. Everywhere she looked she could only see..... green. Hermione lifted one of her pale, lithe hands, it was covered in a sticky goo substance.

"What.... what is this substance?" she quivered lightly. But suddenly, her cry was answered.

"IT'S MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE," A high pitched, elf-ish voice resembling that of Sméagol's from Lord of the Rings (TM.) "I HAVE COME! TO TELL YOU OF A GREAT RECKONING! I mean... uh. KILLLLL!!"

Hermione's usually dark eyes beamed with a strange light that overpowered her like no other force she'd ever felt in her life. Her small body trembled with great passion as she thought, "O.... Finally! The great Dark Lord himself is here! I must use all the power vested within my buxom chest and delicate thighs to entice his desires.. then and only then will I ever be happy!!"

After much inner debate, Hermione finally opened her thick, full, red lips to utter few words. "O my dear Voldemort, I have waited my entire lifetime to finally meet you."

A small, green object floated towards her and Hermione saw her love's face and ...... body. They were one, and the same. A bace, maybe. Or a fody. Nevertheless, it was beautiful. A fire started in her lustrous loins that only wild, passionate love-making could put out. Hermione found herself utterly, and completely, in love.

"Hermione Granger!" squeaked the majestic amorphous blob. "I have a task for you!"

"My love! Anything you command!" proclaimed the quivering beauty.


Hermione gasped, bringing a lovely, slender hand to her perfectly shaped crimson mouth. Her pert lips were opened in a perfect O of surprise.

"My darling! Why ever would you ask such a thing of me? I am young and innocent, with long, lustrous hair flowing freely down my back! But if you insist, my lithe fingers are at your disposal. But on one condition."

"And what is this?" Voldemort inquired.

"You must fulfill my every womanly desire," she announced in her clear voice.

Voldemort looked down at his squiggling figure. It wasn't much, but he was unusually well-endowed for a single-celled organism.

"Well, baby, if you can kill Harry Potter, I will do as much as my body is capable of. And since I am the sole operator of a strip bar downtown, I'm capable of more than you think." He winked. "In fact," he said, greedily eyeing her young, sweet sweet body, "I see no reason why you can't come work in my strip bar for me once our excursions come to a close."

Hermione's lip's twisted into a seductive, desirous smile. "O darling, I'll make you so satisfied you won't be able to live a day without my passionate wriggling against yours!!"

"Oooo baby!" Voldemort giggled as he pressed his sticky, gooey "lips" against Hermione's red buds.

And that.... was just the beginning, for the next morning, Hermione found herself surrounded in a puddle of passionate sweat and... gooze, proof that the dream had been very real indeed.