That was all she could see; all she could feel. All Hermione Jane Jean Denim Suspenders Granger could even think of was pain.
She was in so much pain, she could barely see. The stairs in front of her seemed to be moving of their own accord. Oh, wait.
Hermione breathed. "Oh, thank Merlin's bal--"
"HERMIONE!" Ron bellowed, his face exploding into fireworks of freckles. They were fantastic.
Hermione scowled. "Merlin's ballistic strategy, Ron! I'm not a foul mouthed plebian, like you!"
Ron screwed up his face. "Vegan? What? I like meat…"
"Why aren't you in Hufflepuff?" Hermione muttered, as she left a fuming Ron. Hermione was not usually so insulting, but she was in an incredible amount of pain.
Finally, after a tedious trek through the school, across the river, and through the woods, Hermione reached the Hospital Wing.
Madame Pomfrey, expecting to find Harry with his usual hypochondria about splitting headaches and monsters in his chest-- the freak--, was shocked to find Hermione Granger walking bowlegged into her domain.
"Miss Granger! You look as if you've just had triplets!"
Hermione winced. "Please, Madame Pomfrey, let's not talk about popping out babies…"
Madame Pomfrey looked taken aback at Hermione's coarse language. "Well, what seems to be the problem?"
Hermione sighed. "Madame Pomfrey… I think I broke my, uh…" Hermione blushed. "My pelvis."
Madame Pomfrey looked her up and down.
"Well, Miss Granger, hoist yourself up on the bed. We better examine you. I'll need you to strip your bottom under things."
Hermione, dashing a quick look around and a bit of pepper, blushed and did as she was told.
"Perch yourself at the edge of the bed. Very good. Now I will be back momentarily." Madame Pomfrey rushed from the Hospital Wing to get some potions from Professor Snape, but not before she spelled Hermione's legs into a set of stirrups. Hermione, feeling very exposed, began to nervously chew her lip.
"Why, hello there!" Came a voice far too perky for Hermione and her mangled vagina. And a voice unfortunately too familiar.
"It can't be…" Hermione wailed. She shook her legs, but was trapped.
"Why yes, my delectable, curly pubed fan! It is quite possibly me! The one, the only…
"Gilderoy Lockhart!" Came a beaming smile over her hoisted up legs, which had previously been blocking her view.
Hermione tried to reach for her wand, but was too slow. Lockhart pulled it from her skirt pocket on the bed, and looked at it lovingly.
"Yes, unfortunately at my luxury penthouse, security is tight for my own safety, and I'm unable to use my wand. I do have the Longbottoms to entertain me without such magic use, but I never stop yearning for my wand… my magical one, that is." Lockhart winked suggestively at Hermione. "Not that my own wand isn't magical, if you know what I mean."
Hermione groaned. Lockhart, however, took this for a moan.
"I apologize, young miss. My voice is quite the aphrodisiac, as the Moaning Mage of Minge Mountain could attest. I slayed the foul witch with my vocals of hot chocolate! My goodness! But you are in the hospital wing, as I am! Has my voice already caused you great harm?"
Hermione was kicking her foot out as much as she could to bash the white-toothed man's face.
"Oh dear, please forgive me, my omelette du fromage." Lockhart paused to flash her a charming smile and a wink, apparently in an attempt to woo her with his lovely French. "I will fix your dainty problem, as my voice is a deadly… sexy… but deadly weapon. What seems to be the trouble?"
Hermione hocked a rather large loogey on the blonde tressed man.
"Now, now, madam! The snogging will come in time! We must resolve your issue, first!" Looking down, Lockhart realized exactly what he had been seeing besides the young woman's face. Her chuff was right out in the open! "I've never seen such a snatched up snatch! I know just the cure…"
Hermione had faced a basilisk. She had fought Death Eaters, and almost died countless times. She had even walked in on Mr. and Mrs. Weasley doing BDSM at the Burrow. But never, ever, had Hermione felt as scared as she did now.
She heard a faint mumbling. Some sort of spell, that sounded sinisterly familiar…
And then her pelvis stopped hurting.
In fact, she felt no feeling whatsoever in her lower abdomen. Craning her neck to see over her hiked up legs, she nearly passed out when she saw that her pelvis had… disappeared. Everything human was intact, but there was more of a lack of… shape… where her vadge had once rested.
"Oh, my, why do I have a feeling that this spell's had the same reaction before…?" Mumbled Lockhart.
Hermione bit hard to keep from screaming. Gilderoy Lockhart had just erased the bones of her crotch!
And with that, the ever-brave Gryffindor Hermione Granger fainted.
"Oi! Hermione!" George called to the bushy haired brain as he meandered over to her in 12 Grimmauld Place. "Moody here says there's not much chance of rain, but I think it's supposed to storm later. What say you?"
Hermione raised her eyes a fraction from the book on tantric magic she was reading to regard the redhead. "It's going to rain around 1 o'clock. So the prank you're planning to pull in the garden better take place before noon." And with that, Hermione resumed her personal research.
"Thanks, Hermione! I don't know how you do that, but don't you ever lose it!" The mischievous redhead bounded quickly from the room to find his twin lover… I mean, brother.
"Yes, funny how the girl who punted a crystal ball is suddenly quite the seer." Said Harry from the doorway, his pickle green eyes staring at the beaver like female in front of him.
Hermione quietly closed the book as tears sprang to her eyes. "Oh, Harry…"
Harry, looking concerned, came and sat on Hermione's lap.
"Harry… I can tell the weather, because my pelvis has healed incorrectly…" Sniffling, Hermione continued. "My crotch is botched!" She then began sobbing.
Harry, shifting uncomfortably, awkwardly patted Hermione right where she was hurting. "I'm so sorry, Hermione… why didn't you ever say anything?"
"It's embarrassing… I don't want to tell you why it broke in the first place…"
All of a sudden, Harry's hand shot to his forehead as a searing pain ripped through him. At the same time, Hermione's hand shot to her panties as a frighteningly painful zap ripped through her… you know.
"Voldemort's on the move!" Cried Hermione.
Harry, about to say the same thing, looked at her in shock. Hermione burst into tears and ran from the room.
It was past one in the morning when, feeling a restlessness between her legs-- due to her ailment, not something else--, Hermione decided to walk about Grimmauld Place. However, upon coming near the door of the kitchen, she was surprised to hear mumbling. Not that Order meetings weren't conducted in the wee hours, but simply that these wee hour meetings were usually conducted in the lavatories. Never one to question this practice, Hermione accepted this Order tradition-- and experienced curiosity for what may be going on behind the kitchen door. Attempting to maneuver her hair out the way so that one of her ears was exposed, the poofy-haired witch leaned against the door to hear.
"… don't know, Harry! I just remember her calling me a vegetarian or something… oh, there was a lot of blood coming out of her skirt, but I figured she just forgot a tampon or something."
"Ron! What the hell? I doubt she was on her period… ugh… but we have to figure out what caused her broken crotch! All of her connections with Voldemort started around then. What if she's really a…?"
At this moment, her hair crackling with magical energy and Rice Krispies, Hermione stormed into the kitchen.
"Really what, Harry? A Death Eater? A spy? How could you doubt your best friend? The one who knows about your fishnet stocking fetish, and who's been with you any time you needed a friend?"
Blushing a deep crimson at this revealed secret, and trying not to notice Ron's exclamation of "I like fishnets, too!", Harry grew angry.
"I would never doubt you Hermione. I was going to question whether you're really alright, because you've seemed so tense. Apparently you don't trust me. We are OVER!" Harry kicked the table across the kitchen, complete with Ron still eating some custard on it, and stormed out of the kitchen.
Hermione burst into tears and ran from Grimmauld Place, never to be seen again.
After all of this occurred, Ron looked down sadly into his bowl.
"Ugh, Harry, you got splinters in my custard…"
Months passed. No one heard anything from the resident know-it-all, and Harry sunk into a deep depression. After Ron pulled him out of the trench at the side of the road, Harry felt better-- but he still missed Hermione. He missed the jokes she didn't tell. He missed how she did all his homework. He missed how they used to bonk all night long, and how she didn't mind doing it when Voldemort was trying to send messages through his head…
"Oh." Harry stopped dead in his tracks, pausing in his musing. Several first years who had been kissing each step he walked on tumbled into the wizard, causing Harry to land right on his face. Staring at the stones right in front of his eyes, Harry realized what had been right in front of his eyes all along. Stone. And Hermione's predicament.
"I have to find Hermione!"
But before he could reunite with his friend with benefits, Hogwarts began to shake, and bits of the ceiling began caving in.
"We're under attack!" Shouted Hagrid, as he ran madly through the halls, swinging a large club.
"Oi, Hagrid! Why are you eating a big club sandwich if we're under attack?" Ron asked the half-giant as the ginger ran to pick up Harry from the ground.
"Me last meal, Ron! Ye'd best do the same-- you predicted yer death loads of times in Div'nation!" Hagrid responded, before he rounded the corner with his scrumptious weapon.
"Merlin's bearded balls! Hagrid's right! Sorry Harry-- I need to go eat!" And with that, Ron ran into the crumbling Great Hall, where an apple crumble was being served despite the chaos.
Feeling abandoned in his greatest time of need, Harry lifted himself off the ground. His eyes grew steely.
"Harry Potter? Are your eyes… metal?" Asked a Muggleborn first year who was still sitting on the protagonist's feet.
"Oh, yeah… a special spell to protect my eyes. Don't want to lose these gorgeous greens!" Harry winked a rusty eyelid, causing the first year to swoon and fall off his feet. "Finally, I'm free!"
Harry then ran onto the front lawn of Hogwarts, where Voldemort and the Death Eaters were fighting various older students and professors. Professor Binns was reading from one of his lectures, and had apparently already caused three Death Eaters to take their own lives.
Whipping out his wand, Harry stormed into the melee of magic.
No one appeared to have noticed him yet, so Harry observed the fight as he made his way to the Dark lord. A newly recruited Death Eater-- who apparently hadn't ever killed anyone-- saw him, but appeared to be crying in confusion, as a seemingly invisible Thestral kept bumping him around.
Harry shook his head fondly at the gnashing teeth of the creature and blew it a kiss.
Finally, Harry Potter arrived in front of Voldemort, who appeared to be snogging with…
"Hermione!" Harry shouted in shock and dismay.
"What, Harry? I'm right here." Said the witch, who ran to his side.
"Hermione, look! Voldemort's making out with Lucius!"
The two Death Eaters blushed and looked at Harry, as Voldemort straightened his robes and Lucius ran off.
"This never leaves the three of us, understand?" Said Voldemort. "It especially never leaves you two, because you're going to die!"
As Voldemort uttered the killing curse, Hermione jumped in front of Harry and raised her skirts. Voldemort, who appeared both intrigued and disgusted by the sight, stood back in amazement as Hermione remained alive.
"How can this be?" The artist formerly known as Tom Riddle exclaimed.
"I was your last horcrux, Voldemort!" Hermione shouted, patting her skirt back down into place. "Since Harry's scar was a horcrux-- at least until we gave him plastic surgery to remove it--"
"Good thing you gave that idea to Lupin before you left, Hermione." Harry interrupted, rubbing a large pink spot shaped like a crescent moon on his forehead, where his scar had once been. "Except, Remus won't look at me anymore…"
"Continuing-- before Harry's horcrux was removed, some residual horcrux-ness transferred to me as well, as we… you know." Hermione blushed in explanation.
Voldemort looked confused. "Sorry, what? I didn't get that."
"Harry and I… did it. So my pelvis became a horcrux, too." Hermione and Harry were both blushing scarlet by this point.
"I don't get what you're saying." Voldemort reclined against a nearby tree. "What did you two do?"
At this point several Death Eaters and members of the Order were listening intently to this conversation, and Draco appeared to be thrusting a finger into his fist several times.
"While you were possessing Harry, we killed a pussy cat, and created a horcrux out of my vagina!" Sobbed Hermione, as Harry nodded his head sadly.
Voldemort appeared shocked, as did everyone else in the vicinity.
"What, that's it? I thought you two were banging!" Said a surprised McGonagall.
"Oh, well, yes, we did that too. By the way, Harry, I'm pregnant." Hermione stated.
"Great." Harry said in dismay. Harkening all of his hatred for faulty contraceptives, Harry unleashed the killing curse on Voldemort, and saved the wizarding world.
----Several years later----
"Mommy, why is it I have no red hair like everyone else in the family?
Hermione looked down at her green-eyed son with incredibly unruly brown hair.
"Well, dear, you must have inherited my genes. Green eyes are recessive on both sides of the family, and well, my hair is not to be fought against. That's why you look the way you do." Hermione said, smiling nervously.
Ron, who's eyes narrowed at his wife's discomfort, moved to help usher Hugo onto the Hogwarts Express. Hermione sighed in relief and wiped her forehead, but not before giving Hugo's dear Uncle Harry the finger across the platform.
Returning the gesture, Harry Potter walked over. "Jeez, Hermione. Take it easy. Hey, my scar doesn't hurt anymore, so that should be reason enough to get over our past and be happy."
Hermione's crotch twinged with a dark magic.
"Oh, is that so?"
Note: I apologize for the terrible ending. I ran out of steam, or coffee. Either way, I ran out of something. Dedicated to my lover KP and her little problem of the summer. I'm a terrible person.