A note to my lovely readers: If you want drama, well, sorry, this is a parody of all those Draco-Hermione fics, which I, too, have written. I'm sorry if anything should prove to offend you, you have my apologies. However, I'll save you the time and effort of reviewing to tell me how offended you were by replying now: Bite Me. Everyone else, enjoy!
One bright, sunny day, Hermione Granger woke up and decided to be in love with her academic rival and heretofore enemy: Draco Malfoy.
With a sweep of the author's pen, all of Hermione's feminist intelligence and common sense was blown away, and she pulled out a picture of Draco Malfoy—she kept a picture of every boy in her year and of some of the better looking ones in years above her for just such a purpose—she pulled out a picture of the platinum blonde and swooned over it in a thoroughly disgusting manner. She sat up in bed in her pink, fluffy pajamas (because we suddenly care what Hermione wears to bed), flicked her hair out of her eyes, and stared lovingly into the eyes of Draco Malfoy, ignoring the fact that he has eyes like a fish's.
"Oh Draco," she crooned, "I suddenly realized I love you, and have forgiven all the times you've called me names/pulled my hair/made me cry/grossed me out. Even though you are obviously not here, I will beat my chest and call your name in the manner of a wild-woman. Draaaaaaco....!" And she proceeded to do so.
Now, through some amazing form of magic which goes completely unexplained and thoroughly ignored by the author except to explain that it is magic, Draco heard Hermione's use of apostrophe from Goodness-only-knows how many miles away. He awakened, and decided he, too, was in love with her.
Pulling a picture out of his pornography-filled bedside table, he stared into the eyes of his unexpected one-true-love. "Oh, Hermione," he sighed, "Hermione, Hermione..." The author simpers over what she probably believes to be wildly romantic dialogue while the readers merely vomit and complain that Draco is out of character, the Bastard.
Suddenly-- avoiding all the laws of Space and Time and ignoring any action in our two star-crossed lovers' lives-- it became September 1, also known as 'Time to Board Hogwarts Express'.
On this dark and dreary morning, Hermione bounced out of bed filled with happiness. The readers soon found that their beloved, bushy-haired Hermione had turned—over night—into a blonde with ample breasts, sleek hair, green eyes, and five-percent body fat.
Pulling on a black tank top and faded jeans with holes in the knees [A.N. 1- read most fanfics in which Hermione makes a stunning transformation into Barbie, you'll find this is what she ends up wearing.] Hermione bound down the stairs in the manner of a herd of elephants.
"Papa!" She squealed excitedly, as though having never seen him before, "Where's mum?"
Mr. Granger looked in surprise to his daughter, wondering where Mrs. Granger was. "She's dead!" the author hisses. "Yes, that's it! Hermione, dear, your mother died...many years ago...remember?"
"Oh yeah." Hermione continued merrily eating her pancakes whilst her father had a silent coronary trying to remember the rest of his lines.
"School starts today." He offered, unhelpfully.
"Yeah, it must be time to go!" And with that, Hermione suddenly appeared at King's Cross, without her father but with all of her luggage and cat. She grinned happily, ignoring the laws of space and time.
Draco stepped silently down his marble stairs and grinned at his mother, and nodded to his father. His father was abusive to both Draco and his mother, but Narcissa was a sweet old soul who acted downright cruel while around other people. Like Lucius. "Draco!" Lucius Malfoy roared, "Isn't it time for you to board your train?"
"Yeah? You NEVER say 'yeah' to your father, is that clear?"
"Lucius, do stay calm."
"Don't tell me what to do, woman!" And with that, Narcissa disappeared, not to be heard from again. Draco, however, was scowled at while they rode to King's Cross, ignoring the fact that they both owned broomsticks.
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Disclaimer: None of the preceding was owned by the author, except for the atrocious story line. All of the characters belong to the lovely J.K. Rowling, who will not sue my worthless ass for making a mockery of her characters, as I am but a poor high-school student. (Note: To be technical, I did not mock her characters. Every single person who decided Hermione was Barbie did. Also, I really like the horizontal lines, forgive me.)