A/N: At long last...an update. A few of you are aware of my busy schedule, so I won't go into it. I'll try to keep the update time shorter for the next chapter, but I make no promises. I hope you all enjoy.
Lights flare up to reveal a smartly dressed man. He lightly brushes off the shoulder of his obviously expensive tuxedo before looking out at the reader. Under the red and black mask obscuring his face, a huge smile appears.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, I am-"
"Yes, mister author?"
"I have no idea when people will actually read this. It might not be evening."
"You mean the one person who actually enjoys the crap you write?"
"...words hurt, man."
"Ah, quit bitching. How about this? 'Good (enter your local time period here) ladies and gentlemen.' Does that work for you?"
"Writers and their sensitive egos. Gotta coddle the lot of them, I swear." Mumbles the man before smiling at the reader. "As I was saying before the 'author' so rudely interrupted me, I am Deadpool. Aka, the 'Merc with a mouth'. Hence the title of the story. Great job, dumb ass. Really original."
"I thought it was pretty good."
"You thought wrong."
"Just get back to work."
"What was I doing? Oh yeah...recap. Last chapter, which can not be constituted as a prologue, by the way."
"I know, I know."
"What was the deal with that, anyway? Everyone was expecting a short little teaser, and they get some stupidly long back story on how Hermione had changed."
"Does mister author man have a small crush on a fictional character?"
"Not a crush, per say. She's just a powerful character whose potential was obliterated by Rowling."
"I just lost the game."
"Are n-SMACK-ow!" Thoraxe turns to see an imposing older man. The man stares for all of two seconds before Thoraxe cracks.
"Right boss. Deadpool...recap. Now." Thoraxe sighs in relief as the man leaves.
"What the fuck was he doing here?"
"Never question the gut."
"You are a total nerd, you know that?"
"As I was saying...Last chapter we were told of Hermione's years at Hogwarts after her boy-toy, Harry, was kidnapped before fifth year. All that reminiscing during a battle too. Hmmm...Not very smart on her part, but at least it gave me the chance for a dramatic entrance. This week, I get introduced to the school. I can't wait."
Hermione watched in awe from her position on the ground as the man obliterated the death eater forces. Metal flashed left and right, carving flesh as the sharp staccato of gunfire flooded the ruined street. She gasped as a familiar purple curse grazed the man's neck. Her hope began flowed from her heart as quickly as the brilliant red blood that flowed from the wound.
"See?! That's what I'm talking about!" Hermione was shocked to hear the strength in the man's voice. By all rights, he should've been gasping and gurgling. "You wizards obsess over your spells and wands. Which is a bit disturbing if you think about it. Of course, I do too, but that's me. I mean, look at Gandalf! Never see him just waving his a wand aro-"
The monologue was literally cut short when another purple curse connected squarely with his throat. As he collapsed, the death eaters turned their attention back to the village. Even against the dwindled numbers, the defenders scrambled in an effort to escape.
"Seriously...Guys? So not cool. I was just trying to enlighten you. It was very rude to interrupt."
Hearing the voice behind them, the death eaters froze.
"I mean, there are so many things that you are missing out on. The Internet and all of its wonders. A whole world of cool toys. Duct tape. Ah...duct tape...truly a marvelous invention."
Before the death eaters could move, the report of an automatic weapon echoed across the shattered street. One by one, the cloaked men crumpled as their bodies were pierced by unforgiving projectiles.
"Enchiladas, Wiis, spatulas (which is a funny word), hot ma-" the man seemed surprised to see his dead adversaries. "Oh...well...yeah...take that."
With one final glance at the destruction around him, the victor turned and dashed off. Slowly, Hermione laid back down and closed her eyes. As the adrenaline that had been coursing through her body faded, exhaustion forced her brilliant brain to shut down for a much needed reboot.
"Students! I have an announcement to make."
Hermione locked her eyes on the headmaster as he rose from his seat at the teachers' table. She'd awaken in the Hogwarts infirmary after passing out on the cobblestone street of Hogsmeade. Madame Pomphrey had told her that none of the attacking death eaters had survived the battle, though no one seemed to know who or what had killed them. Fearing for her sanity at apparently having been the only one to witness the fight, she decided to keep the details to herself for the time being. Now, four hours and a clean bill of health later, she was sitting across form Neville and Luna at the end of the Gryffindor table at dinner.
"As you may or may not know..." the headmaster smiled at the pairs of rolling eyes throughout the hall. "earlier today, there was an attack on Hogsmeade. I'm glad to report that, while there were fatalities, none of your classmates were seriously injured. However, many of you may have noticed the person responsible for our continued good health."
It was at this point that the majority of the students straightened in curiosity. Even Hermione, who was pretty much the only one to see their hero.
"I have recently been in contact with a man who has agreed to stay at Hogwarts to act as defender of the castle. I ask that none of you impede him in his protection of the school and greet him with the hospitality that makes this institution so great. With that said, I'd like to introduce you to the man known as Deadpool!"
A loud crash reverberated around the great hall as one of the large windows shattered. Sitting in the window sill was the same red and black clad man that Hermione had seen in the village. With the elegant grace of an Olympic gymnast, he sprung from the window toward the head podium. After executing a series of flips and rotations that seemed to defy gravity, he landed in a low crouch beside the headmaster.
"Aaaaannnnddddd..." His voice still held that hint of insanity as he slowly stood to his full height. "Strike a POOOOSSSSEEEE!" with the final exclamation, one of the swords on his broad back slid from its sheath and rested across his shoulder as his other hand planted itself on his hip.
The entire hall remained silent as 'Deadpool' held his pose for a full minute. Eventually, the strange man re-sheathed his sword and dropped off the stage. As he began walking up and down the tables, Dumbledore cleared his throat to get every one's attention.
"Ahem. Yes...welcome, Mr. Deadpool. I ho-"
"Please headmaster, call me Wade. 'Mr. Deadpool' sounds pretty dumb, doncha think?"
"Um...yes, yes. As I was saying...Welcome! Students, please help our guest to feel welcome."
With that, the headmaster sat down to watch as the mercenary strode around the great hall. Deadpool seemed to be on a mission as he inspected every person. Occasionally he would tap a student, much to their fear, with the barrel of his pistol and look at the aged wizard.
"Albus?!" whispered his deputy headmistress in a harsh tone. "What is he doing?"
"Merely confirming my own suspicions, Minerva."
"Suspicions? He's brandishing that muggle weapon around the students with little care. What suspicions could possibly warrant that?"
Dumbledore didn't say a word. He didn't want to agitate his colleague even further by admitting that the mercenary was somehow identifying every student that bore the dark mark. His stoic face remained plastered as more and more children from the Slytherin table were tapped. He knew that a majority of the house of 'cunning' would follow Tom, but the number was rather disconcerting. The impassive mask slipped only slightly as the number spread from the green and silver table to the others. His old heart ached as the masked mercenary identified at least six students from the other houses before taking a seat beside young Miss Granger.
"I fear that it is far worse than I had hoped." whispered Albus in quiet sorrow as he looked down into his dinner plate.
McGonagall just looked at her mentor and friend.
Feeling the weight descend onto the bench beside her, Hermione looked up to see the black and red outfit. She sighed as a big smile blossomed under the mask and a hand raised in a jaunty little wave.
"What's up, guys?"
"Yup. So, who do we have here?"
"I'm Neville Longbottom. This is Luna Lovegood. And the rather attractive brunette beside you that looks like she's been sucking on lemons is Hermione Granger."
"Longbottom? Seriously, dude, Rowling must have hated you to name you Longbottom."
"Not really. Not if you think about it." retorted Neville with a smug grin. In the two years since Harry Potter's disappearance, he'd finally grown into himself. While he wasn't yet the biggest or strongest or the most powerful in his year, confidence seemed to roll off of him in waves.
"How's that, Mr. Longbottom?"
"She must have seen the truth."
"That I'm long...and I have a fantastic bottom."
"Its true." All three heads turned to look at Luna, who was leaning back and glancing down at Neville's rear. After a good laugh and several looks sent their way, the group turned to the food in front of them. Deadpool lifted his mask until the edge rested on the bridge of his nose. Hermione could only stare at the Mercenary's mouth until the white eye holes locked onto her.
"Like what you see?"
The Brunette blushed before lowering her eyes, several thoughts running through her mind. She'd seen that mouth somewhere before. There was something incredibly familiar about Deadpool.
"You do know that your secret is doomed, don't you Wade?" asked Luna, drawing the man's attention.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah...yeah. I know, but it'll be fun while it lasts.
"What are you talking about?" asked Neville.
"You'll see eventually."
Hermione sighed in frustration as the voice of Ronald Weasley washed over her. Dinner had just ended, and all she wanted was to get some sleep. She paused momentarily then, deciding that bed was more important, began walking again. She made it ten steps before a hand closed on her arm.
"You deaf or something? I was talking to you."
"No, I'm not deaf. What I am is exhausted. I want to go to bed."
"Look, Hermione. Can't I just say something?"
"Hermione? What happened to Granger? Or mudblood? Where are all of those oh-so-original insults you've become so accustomed to using over the last two years?"
"I know, I know. I'm sorry Hermione."
"I said that I'm sorry. I know I've been a right arse for a while now, and I wanted to apologize. It's jut that, after Harry vanished, I was really upset."
"Upset? You were bad-mouthing him up and down."
"I know. That's just me, you know? 'Emotional range of a teaspoon'? I've done some thinking..."
"That explains the smell of something over heating."
"Heh. Yeah. Anyway...as I was saying. I've done some thinking, and I realized why I was so terrible."
"I await with bated breath." Hermione caught a flash of anger in the red head's eyes before he schooled his expression.
"I was just jealous."
"Yeah. You must have realized that I've had a crush on you. When you and Harry started dating, I thought I'd lost my chance. Then, when he vanished. I was just so upset that I...I just want a chance to prove myself, Hermione. Please."
"You know what, Ron? Three years ago, I really would've forgiven you. Two years ago, I probably still would have if I'm being honest with myself. Maybe I still should..."
The quick look of smug victory that passed across Ron's face was exactly what she was looking for. Keeping her expression schooled to recompense, she opened her arms wide. As Ron approached, however, she stuck out her palm to stop him.
"Wait. There's one thing I want you to do first."
"Close you eyes and pucker up."
The red head eagerly complied, his thoughts swarming with thoughts of victory.
"Good. Now, with all the passion that you can muster, I want you to kiss my tanned, toned, and incredibly tight ass."
"Honestly! Did you really expect me to forgive you? While we did have good times years ago, you are nothing but an arrogant prick. I mean, your sole quality is a freakish talent at chess. You're selfish. You're whiny, and you have the I.Q. of a damn brick. In all honestly...and with all due respect...get the fuck out of my face."
With her tirade over, the young woman turned and confidently strode down the corridor. Ron could only stare, slack-jawed, at her back for a couple of seconds. Eventually, he regained enough composure for one final attempt at an insult.
"Y-you...you stuck-up MUDBLOOD!"
All the answer he got was a hearty 'fuck you' finger. Ears red, he made to follow her until a leanly muscled arm dropped itself around his shoulders.
"Duuude. Burn, dude...burn." Ron looked up to see that the arm belonged to that 'Deadpool' character. He made to wrench it off, only to feel five fingers dig into the flesh of his shoulder. As he grunted in pain, a cold object slid up his front until the tip rested on his collar bone.
"What are you doing?"
"Standing here. Why?"
"What about the bloody knife?"
"Oh that! Hmm...doesn't look bloody. Looks pretty clean in point of fact. As for why its there...? Simple really. You looked like you had some less-than-pleasant intentions for Miss Granger."
"What do you care?"
The hand tightened on Ron's shoulder again as he was wrenched around to stare into the featureless read and black mask. Under the material, it was easily discernible that there was a angry scowl. The emotionless white eye-patches were what drew his focus, however. Behind the blank cloth, there seemed to be a intimidating green glow. Without warning, the shrouded scowl shifted to a smile as the mercenary's cheek bones lifted.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Humming a peppy tune, Deadpool released the teen and walked off.