A/N: I know I have very few reviews for this story, but I'm feeling a writer's block for my two main stories right now, so I decided to continue this. And I'm having a moral dilemma about whether or not to post each chapter as a separate story or to just keep it all in one… Hmm… I'm not going to respond to the reviews because they were all written over a year ago and that's just kind of weird…

Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters/locations belong to JK Rowling, Star Wars characters/planets belong to George Lucas, Lost characters belong to… er… whoever owns them, and OC characters/costumes belong to Josh Schwartz, I think? And Bittersweet Symphony belongs to The Verve.


Hermione's Nighttime Adventure

Hermione sighed to herself as she wandered through the dimly lit corridors. She was making the transition from her Potions class to her Transfiguration class. It was interesting to have one class with her least favorite teacher and then the next with her favorite one. It suddenly occurred to her that the corridors were completely abandoned, save for the portraits snoozing in their frames. She stopped in the middle of the hall, confused. She shrugged and just figured the paintings had had a late night, or something. She turned and pulled back a tapestry behind which a staircase was hidden. She stepped into the open space and fell. She suddenly started floating through darkness. She was very confused. She felt rather like Alice from Alice in Wonderland, at the beginning part where she's falling through all those clocks and chairs and things. How odd.

She suddenly blinked and was sitting in the middle of a vast desert that seemed to go one forever. She must have dropped her books and bag during the fall because they were nowhere to be seen. She stood up and brushed her skirt off daintily. Someone whizzed by her on what looked like a hover mo-ped of sorts.

"Wait!" she cried, running helplessly after them. "Wait! Please help me!"

She could see the dot which was the person on the hover thing stop growing smaller. It started becoming bigger. Soon it was next to her. A rather attractive man – save for his rat tail and strange inability to stop grinding his teeth – wearing a long black cloak was sitting on it.

"Hi," she said. "I'm lost. Where am I?"

"You're on Tatooine," the man responded. "Now would you please stop bothering me and let me go about my business? I have a mother to save." He started to rev up his engine.

"Wait!" she repeated. "Take me with you. I'm lost!"

"Fine," he said grouchily.

She climbed on the back of his hover scooter contraption and they zipped off through the desert on this… "Tatooine." Whatever that was.

When they finally reached their destination, a village nestled between some huge rock formations, the man got off the hover scooter and told her to stay on it. He started tiptoeing through the village. He pulled a small cylinder out of his pocket. It suddenly extended to become the size of a sword, but what would have been the blade was instead a glowing red beam. He cut a hole in one of the huts and climbed inside. Hermione waited on the hovering scooter for what felt like ages until the man suddenly came out of the hut, grinding his teeth again, and went on a mad rampage, killing all of these weird cloaked figures that were popping out of nowhere. Hermione gasped and closed her eyes reflexively.

When she opened them, she was in a dark, empty room. She was wearing a weird outfit with a big mask on that distorted her voice. This time she knew exactly what she was doing. She had to save Han. He was frozen in carbon and stuck against the wall like artwork. He may be very attractive and the love of her life, but his image, forever stuck in a distorted, painful figure should be considered anything but artwork. She knew exactly what she was doing when she unfroze him. He fell from the wall, shaking. She pulled off her mask seductively, shaking her head so her hair fell about her face.

"Is that you, Leia?" Han asked weakly.

Hermione was confused. Leia? Who the hell was Leia?

Suddenly an evil, guttural laugh filled the room and a horrible, slug-like creature appeared, surrounded by a whole group of other weird creatures, none as disgusting as he. Hermione screamed, letting her voice fill the room and beyond the reaches of the galaxy, so everyone, everywhere could hear her. Including Leia, that whore.

She was lying in sand again. She had stopped screaming. Now all she could hear was the sound of waves crashing somewhere nearby. She opened her eyes. The sun was too bright so she sat up. She was on a deserted beach.

"You all everybody… You all everybody…" she could hear someone singing.


The person came into view. It was a short man in a baggy sweatshirt with a shaggy beard and messy blonde hair.

"Hermione," he said. "We've been looking all over for you. Where have you been?"

"Tatooine," she explained.

"It was just a dream, Hermione," the blonde man explained, holding out a hand and helping her up. "You're not in Star Wars land anymore."


The man led her further along the beach.

"Who are you?" she asked.

He stopped, faced her, and grabbed her shoulders. "Hermione, have you gone mad? It's me, Charlie."

"I don't know who you are."

"This must be some after effect of the crash…" Charlie said, more so to himself than to Hermione. "You need to see the doctor."

He continued leading her along the beach until they finally reached a highly populated area. There was another man with shaggy blonde hair sitting in an airplane chair, a man with short, dark hair and a five-o-clock shadow crouched down in front of him, handing him a pair of glasses, and a woman with long, wavy brown hair and a highly unfashionable outfit, in Hermione's book. Charlie rushed toward them.

"Jack!" Charlie said.

The crouched man held a piece of paper in front of the airplane chair man's face.

"Very funny," airplane chair man said to crouched man, after reading the piece of paper.

Crouched man stood up.

"Jack," Charlie said, approaching the now standing crouched man.

"Yeah, Charlie?" Jack responded.

"Something's wrong with Hermione."

A fat guy walked by airplane chair man.

"Dude, it looks like someone steamrolled Harry Potter," he said.

Wavy hair girl laughed.

"Wait!" Hermione cried. "Harry Potter! He's my friend! How do you know him?" She ran up to the fat guy.

"What? Harry Potter's a character in a book, Hermione," the fat guy said. "You don't know him."

"Yes I do! He's not a character in a book. Why do you all think I'm crazy?"

"It's just an after effect of the crash, most likely," Jack said, approaching Hermione. "It's nothing to be concerned about."

"Come to think of it," the fat guy said, "Her name is Hermione. And she looks an awful lot like the Hermione described in the book."

"What are you talking about!" Hermione screamed.

"Hurley does have a point," said wavy-haired girl.

Jack approached Hermione and looked at her curiously. "I guess so."

Suddenly a pregnant girl ran out of the woods and started screaming. Everyone on the beach then joined in and started screaming.

"HARRY POTTER'S COME TO LIFE!" the fat guy – Hurley? – cried.

"WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!" yelled wavy-haired girl.

"DON'T LET VOLDEMORT COME AND ATTACK US!" screamed airplane chair man.

"Can I have your autograph?" Charlie asked. Then he, too, started screaming, and the whole beach group, including the pregnant girl ran into the ocean and started swimming as quickly as they could away from the beach.

"What did I do? I'm not a character from a book!" Hermione screeched.

"Use the Force…" a foggy voice said from somewhere to her right.

She snapped to her right. A translucent, hooded figure was standing a few feet away.

"Use the Force, Hermione," it advised. "Use the Force…" He suddenly disappeared.

"Wait! No! Come back!" she cried.

She collapsed into the sand in a heaping, shaking heap of Hermione tears. She sobbed into her hands. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She gasped and looked up. Viktor Krum was standing above her.

"Viktor!" she whispered loudly, wiping her eyes.

"Ello, Herm-own-ninny," he said.

She started crying again. "Why can't someone just pronounce my name right?"

"Shut up, Ms. Granger," Snape snapped from the front of the room. She was back in her Potions class.

"Yes, Professor Snape?" her eyes were dry and she regained her composure.

"I said SHUT UP!" he screamed.

Ron jumped on his desk. "You all, everybody!" he sang. "You all, everybody! Acting like you stupid people, wearing expensive clothes!"

"Ugh," Hermione groaned to herself. "Not that stupid song again."

"What, you don't like Driveshaft, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Not particularly," she said obnoxiously.

"What is WRONG with you, Ms. Granger?" Snape asked.

"No, what's wrong with you, Severus?" she questioned daringly. "You yell at me for being upset that Viktor Krum can't pronounce my name, and then Ron jumps on his desk and starts singing bad British pop Oasis-wannabe music and you don't even CARE!"

"Damn straight, bitch," Snape said.

"VIKTOR KRUM?" squealed Lavender. "WHERE?"

"He's gone, stupid," Hermione said angrily. "Gone, gone, gone, gone, GONE."

"Wow, bitter, much?" Lavender retorted.

"'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life…" Ron sang, sitting down on his desk.

"God, SHUT UP, RON!" Hermione snapped, standing up and stomping out of the room.

Try to make ends meet. You're a slave to money then you die-ie.

She walked down the dungeon hallway in slow motion. Everyone poked their heads out of their classrooms and stared at her.

I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down.

They followed her up the steps to the Great Hall.

You know the one that takes you to the places where all the veins meet, yeah.

She entered the Dining Hall and there was a huge concert going on. The slow motion stopped. Ron was singing. Oh, God.

"No change, I can change, I can change, I can change, but I'm here in my mold. I am here in my mold," he sang. "But I'm a million different people from one day to the next. I can't change my mold, no, no, no, no, no."

Everyone around her was suddenly wearing superhero clothing. Hermione looked down. She was wearing some sort of Wonder Woman outfit gone horribly wrong in a pink and black, sparkly, bondage way.

A tall, gawky man approached her. "Want to dance, Little Miss Vixen?" he asked.

Hermione had no idea who he was, but he was sexy. "Sure," she said, winking at him.


Hermione's eyes sprung open. She was in a dark room – not again. But she then realized she was in her bed. No mosh pits or obnoxious singing or beaches or foreign galaxies and planets. Nothing. Thank God.


A/N: I don't even know how I feel about that. Please review! I'm sorry if the Driveshaft lyrics were wrong… I'll check them when I have my Lost DVD with me again.