Parody...to the Extreme by Viopathartic Rating: PG13 Genres: Humor Relationships: Harry & Hermione Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7 Published: 24/01/2008 Last Updated: 12/09/2008 Status: In Progress A parody of H/Hr fanfiction that makes you want to smack the author. You might want to smack me for making this fic. Fortunately, you can't. 1. Chapter 1 ------------ **PARODY****…to the extreme** *Viopathartic* I was feeling mean so I've decided to write a parody of all of the fanfictions I've read. I'm not going to name any of them because trust me, I've read a lot. Some of the stuff I've read is just plain ridiculous. Mary Sues, OOC, AU, No magic…my god, the horror! I may use some OOC in my fics but lord, the ones I've read about… If you happen to enjoy this piece, suggest another thing that I should do a parody of. I'll take my anger out on that. For the flamers who think this is immature, *Thank you.* That's the whole point. *Some authors believe that if they write "book" and "Hermione" in one sentence, they would finish characterizing Hermione Granger. They think,* Wait, Hermione's supposed to be a bookworm so I gotta put a book in there! *People, Hermione is much more complex. However, sometimes authors use Hermione as a body for a completely different person.* *Here's what I see all the time.* **WARNING: EVERYTHING I SAY UNDER THIS LINE IS NOT MY USUAL WRITING.** AND THAT IS THIS IS LINE (let your eyes drift down) Hermione was reading a big book, trying to distract herself. But it was no use; her mind was totally on Harry. Hermione was *sooooooooo* jealous. Like, O.M.G. He was dating Ginny, her best friend, and he seemed to be oblivious to the fact that she was in love with him. Suddenly, she sighed and put her textbook aside, jumping off from her bed. She flipped her long, luscious brown hair over her elegant shoulders and straightened her mini-skirt that she suddenly acquired. She leaned over to look at herself in the mirror and expertly applied her hot pink lip gloss. How did she learn to do this? Because she was, like, totally hip. Hermione sighed again, thinking about another task that could keep her mind off her male best friend. She needed to tell Harry that she had feelings for him but *how?* What else was there to do? Oh wait…let's sing a song! The bookworm strutted to her bedroom door and opened it, walking down the stairs and into the Common Room which miraculously turned into a huge stage. Magic can do everything, of course. Her heart dropped when she saw that Harry and Ginny were snogging in the corner while the first years watched in fascination. Hermione pouted, because that was what she did when she was mad. Hermione jumped up, ran to the stage, and made for the microphone.... …but tripped and fell on her arse. Everyone laughed and she just wanted to *die!* So, taking a deep breath, she began to sing and surprisingly, she was good at it. Hermione decided to sing a song that was *totally* related to the whole plot of the story. *I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love Love's going to leave me I'm too sexy for my shirt too sexy for my shirt So sexy it hurts And I'm too sexy for Milan too sexy for Milan New York and Japan And I'm too sexy for your party Too sexy for your party No way I'm disco dancing I'm a model you know what I mean And I do my little turn on the catwalk Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah I do my little turn on the catwalk I'm too sexy for my car too sexy for my car Too sexy by far And I'm too sexy for my hat Too sexy for my hat what do you think about that I'm a model you know what I mean And I do my little turn on the catwalk Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah I shake my little touche on the catwalk I'm too sexy for my too sexy for my too sexy for my 'Cos I'm a model you know what I mean And I do my little turn on the catwalk Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah I shake my little touche on the catwalk I'm too sexy for my cat too sexy for my cat Poor pussy poor pussy cat I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love Love's going to leave me And I'm too sexy for this song* When she was done, Hermione took a bow and the room erupted in ear-splitting applause. There, she did it. Hermione confessed all of her love for Harry! *"*Those lyrics…they were sooooo meaningful!" Everyone whispered. "Mia!" Harry exclaimed, arms raised, "*Mamma mia!* How'd you learn to sing like that?" Hermione giggled, twirling a strand of her straight hair, "Well, my mum and dad wanted me to learn how to sing so they signed me up for lessons when I was younger. I also learned how to do to dance, how to play ALL of the instruments in the world, how to speak ALL of the languages, and…did I mention that I was a child prodigy?" "Wow," Harry breathed, totally in love with her now. "Oh my gosh! Harry, you're supposed to like me!" Ginny, who apparently appeared, whined, stomping her legs. She grabbed her boyfriend's arm in desperate attempt to make him love her again. "Hey! Who sang me a song? I believe it was Hermy…Hermia…Mimi….er, well, not you!" Harry yanked his arm away and went over to Hermione. She giggled like an annoying school girl went he put an arm around her waist. Together, they walked out of the Common Room….and into a broom closet. FIVE MINUTES LATER: Harry and Hermione collapsed after having brutal, hot sex. Ron was dancing with the leprechauns. Ginny was working the corner. "And this is where I confess my undying love for you because *everyone* knows that having sex with a person means that person loves the other person. So, here, I will say, 'I love you," and continue to tell you how I've always loved you since first year in this very long paragraph. If you don't understand, I'll repeat to make the paragraph even longer. So yes, this is a very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very long paragraph that'sbunchedintoonespace," professed Hermione in one, single breath. "And this is where I tell you I love you too, Hermione." His dark green eyes screamed his emotion into Hermione's eyes. Hermione purred. "Did you just purr?" Hermione did it again. "Yes, because it's amazingly sexy." "I thought you sounded like Crookshanks and a bull frog having their way, but it aroused me anyway," Harry said, his voice low and husky like a sexy beast. "I'm so glad we have contraceptive charms. Then we can have sex all night long without having to worry about getting pregnant unlike the Americans across the pond." Hermione laughed, "Ha, *losers*." And they continued with their lovemaking because that's what two people in love do *all the time*—lovemake. *If you guys review, I'll give you cookies.* *P.S: If you guys review, I'll buy you each a car.* *P.P.S: If you guys review, I'll fucking give you Mars.* 2. Harry: God ------------- Parody 2 **HERE ARE THE CLAIMS:** Pluto: 2 people Mars: 7 people Uranus: Kelsey Jupiter: hoser41 Moon: Jess2425 SUN: GOLDENROSE (did you guys know that she used to be my beta? Yes, she greatly assisted me by editing *Voldemort's Strongest Weakness*—a really old fic of mine on FF.net that has NOT been updated for a year or so?) **AUTHOR'S NOTE: See there's kind of a point to these notes. The author says a lot important things here. For example, last chapter, I said that everything below a certain line would not be my actual writing and only my portrayal of the other fanfictions** **Some of you believe it is my real style of writing. Hopefully, for those who have read my other pieces, you realize that this is not my REAL WRITING.** **EVERYTHING BELOW THE LINE IS INTENTIONAL.** And a message for **Harry85:** I understand what you are saying and I'm glad you did not flame me. A writer should not care what others think of their work. What they write is what they think and if one person disagrees with that view, it's okay. Everyone has their own opinions and own ways to express. I won't care if some one makes fun of my writing. Go ahead. Hell, I'm 15 so my writing may be a bit immature in this fic. But if you do it just because you see this message, expect a response from me. Besides, I'm making a parody of different pieces from all fanfiction sites. I am not targeting one specific writer. *This is a parody of a common theme in fanfiction these days. Harry Potter suddenly becomes a babe and a powerful wizard.* *Whoop—dee—do.* *And the writer decides to mention everything in one single chapter.* **LINE** When Harry Potter got out of bed, it was as if a new flower was blooming. As if the sun was rising majestically over the horizon. As if-- "Merlin, when did I get such a hot bod?" The young man caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His muscle shirt (also his sleeping shirt) showed off his sculpted body. His jeans (that he also slept in) fit just perfectly and ameliorated his arse. His hair was tied in a long ponytail and he had a nose ring. How did he get such a model worthy figure? At first Harry believed it was because of the 1000 miles he ran over the summer. But then... Harry walked over to his nightstand and picked up a potion box that read, "BOD UP...created to give person large muscles, sexy long raven hair, and a rad new outfit that can be goth, rich, or outlandishly gay. Side effects—" BAM! The lights went out because Harry's magical aura—whatever it was—was so strong that it burst every light bulb in his room. A glowing ring of gold surrounded the young man's body and he rejoiced in the feeling of the power that ran threw his veins. "Wow, I feel so...*powerful*!" The window of his room suddenly opened and a strong gust of wind came in, blowing in his direction. Strangely, he was not affected. It made him look hotter than the sun. At once, an owl flew through the window and Harry picked up an envelope All of the sudden, a headache caused Harry to flinch in pain. He gasped. It was worse than his scar. He began to pick up garbled sounds which eventually morphed into actual words. The voice of Aunt Petunia floated into his mind, "Vernon's not home...that means I have fifteen minutes with the neighbor and another twenty minutes with the postal service person. I wonder if they will like the lingerie that I selected..." Harry jerked back. He just read someone's mind! His face slowly turned green once his mind processed what he had just overheard. He ran out to the corridor and puked into the bathroom sink. A few minutes later, Harry went back into his room to contemplate everything. "Okay so...I have the power to read minds. Does that mean--?" *WHOOSH!* Harry wordlessly summoned his belongings, and they flew obediently into his hands. Of course, he was never able to do nonverbal magic, but since he was now of age... "Why am I getting all these powers?" Then he figured it out. "Of course! I'm of age so that means I get these powers," said Harry out loud, wondering how he missed that important fact. Dumbledore never told him and since he was a manipulative bastard, Harry was glad he was dead. "But what happened to my glasses?" The boy asked in wonder. He reached up to feel his eyes and realized he had somehow obtained eye contacts. Even though he thought the prospect of contacts completely took over the image that Harry Potter used to have, he had to admit...he did look *drop dead gorgeous.* "That's because you are," came a voice. Harry jumped from his bed and saw that a black panther was pacing his floor. The animal quickly morphed into a man. He had semi short black hair and his skin was pale white. His nose was placed oddly on his face—as if it was surgically removed and placed back. He wore a black suit and had white gloves. "Who are you?" "Never you mind, Harry." "Why are you here?" Harry stepped closer to the person. "You're of age. The spell has worn off. I am in charge of teaching you everything I know," the mystery man said calmly. "I've been watching over you for awhile, Harry." "…even when I was in the bathroom?" The man nodded with his hands clasped in front of him. "You don't need to know." "You seem to have a lot of questions, Harry." "Can you stop saying my name?" "Only if you come away with me. To a place where you can grow again." "Okay," Harry decided. If going with the person who just snuck into his room meant that Harry would get stronger, then he'll go. The man reached out a white glove and slowly, Harry grasped it. "By the way, since I'm going, what should I call you?" "Jackson. Michael Jackson." Harry was forever grateful. He learned everything from The King of Pop. That's right. The King of Pop, who lived forever, who knew the meaning of life, and who was destined to teach Harry Potter everything he knew. After *one* GRUELING day, Harry was ready. Harry exchanged a few words in Parseltongue to a snake that was slithering around Diagon Alley. His name was Bongo. He was currently hiding in Harry's sleeve. After arriving at Gringotts, Harry spoke Goblinspeak with awing accuracy. The goblins respected him. He and a couple other Goblins sat down to discuss serious matters. "Harry Potter. Heir of Godric Gryffindor," announced one Goblin. "Heir of Rowena Ravenclaw—" "Heir of Helga Hufflepuff—" "Heir of Salizar Slytherin—" "Heir of Sirius Black—" "Heir of James Potter—" "Heir of Billy Jones the third twice removed from the family line who also happens to be Dumbledore's great great great great grandson—" "—so basically, you're Albus Dumbledore's great great great great great grandson," finished the goblin, unbothered. "Wicked! So…how much do I get?" Harry asked enthusiastically. "Property. *A lot* of properties." "Where?" "Well…Godric's Hollow, Helga's Hollow, Rowena's Hollow, Salazar's Hollow, Billy's hut in Madrid…" the goblin checked his list and added after, "And I believe there's also a castle in a place called HP Land…" see that "review button? Push it! plz review i might post another chapter if you do i will totally dye if u don't plz plz haha so yeah totally luv you all! XOXOXOXO 3. Crap ------- **Parody…to the Extreme** …I don't even know. Just read carefully, I guess. **LINE:** **Summary: Harry and Ron both love Hermione. She chooses Harry but ends up being married to Ron for some apparent reason that is unknown to readers. Find out who Hermione chooses and how it severely changes absolutely nothing.** On January 3, 1997, 7:56:43 (because he was timing), Harry fell in love. He was doing his homework when suddenly saw the way *her* eyes shined when she laughed. The way her nose wrinkled when she read. How her hair looked so soft... That was when he found out that he was in love with Hermione Granger. Yes, just like that. It was like...bam. Hit him like a freaking sumo wrestler. He knew he couldn't keep it inside. He had to tell Ron. Unfortunately, his reaction was not what Harry expected. "NO! WHY? WHY? TELL ME WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE LIKE THIS?" Harry tried to reason with his best friend. "Ron—" "I FANCY HER, you know? It doesn't matter if she hates me. Doesn't even matter she thinks I have the emotional range of a teaspoon. I FANCY her. That's what important! And why would she pick you anyways? You don't make her cry everyday! You don't cause her to blow up every time you say something rude! I DO! That's what matters!" "Fine. I will let you have Hermione. Why? Well, because I'm not a selfish bastard and I'm willing to give up my happiness for you," said Harry calmly. "Don't forget the fact that you're going to die soon," Ron added. "Right. And I don't want to put her in danger...even though I have put her in danger for the past six years." "Right." The two boys looked at each other. Harry's heart was broken in tiny pieces. He knew that he would never get over this moment and would never forgive Ron for— Ron stuck out his hand, "Chums?" Harry grinned widely, shaking his friend's hand, "Yep." So that was it. Harry knew that from now on he would have to lock up his heart and throw away the key. It has been a month since he confessed his feelings to his best mate. Oddly, their friendship was the same as before even though they both sought the heart of the same girl. Harry was sitting in the corner of the Common Room, sipping on his firewhi--erm, butterbeer while he glared at the happy couple on the couch. Were they blatantly trying to shove what he lost in his face? "What's got you moping in the corner?" Neville asked, suddenly appearing next to Harry. His friend took a large sip and pointed morosely towards Hermione and Ron. "Oh, looks like Ron is bothering Hermione again." "No," Harry scoffed, "they're practically snogging!" Neville squinted his eyes. From what he was seeing, Ron was *trying* to snog Hermione--"trying" being the key term. "GET OFF, RON!" Hermione yelled furiously, pushing the horny teenager away from her. Ron fell back onto the couch, looking a bit hurt. "Erm, Harry...no they're not." "See! She's totally in love with him! I'm not blind!" "Apparently you are," Neville muttered. "Eh?" "Nevermind. Hey, look she's coming over." Harry stashed away the firewhis--wait, no, *butterbeer* under the seat of the chair. Hermione was readjusting her shirt after barely escaping the attempted rape committed by Ronald Weasley. "Hey, Harry," she said grumpily, sitting down across from Harry. "Hey," he said in a cold tone. "Can you do something about Ron? He acts like we're together but I want *nothing* to do with him." "Yeah, why don't you just snog in front of *everyone?*" Harry said, appearing to have ignored Hermione's last sentence. "Harry, stop. This is ridiculous," she said. "I'M JUST TRYING TO CAUSE SOME DRAMA, OKAY? UNNECCESARY DRAMA, YEAH, BUT HEY, IT HELPS BOOST UP THE AUTHOR'S POPULARITY!" "What?" Hermione exclaimed. What author? Why was Harry acting like they were in some sort of...story? "YOU KNOW WHAT? NEVERMIND! I'M JUST GOING TO-- "Why are you yelling?" "THE AUTHOR IS TRYING TO MAKE IT SEEM AS IF I'M *REALLY* ANGRY, SO SHE THINKS THE CAPITALS WILL HELP!" "...How about you two just separate and cool off, right?" Neville mediated. Hermione took one last look at Harry before whirling around and walking away...only to be met by Ron. Harry wanted to make sure to hear this conversation, so he dodged Neville and moved. From the corner of his eye he saw Ginny heading his way. Caught up in his best friends' conversation, he took out his wand and blasted Ginny into the fireplace where she BURNED.LIKE.HELL. "Hermione, will you be my girlfriend?" "No! You're an arsehole and I *hate* you!" Ron turned red. "Yeah? Well, you're a bucktooth know-it-all!" Hermione sobbed as she ran back to her room. Ron laughed turning to face Harry. "We're definitely made for each other." Harry stared at the ceiling of his dormitory. And stared. Stared. Still staring. Then, "I'm so depressed." It was obvious Harry was suffering; he was wearing black. By now, Hermione and Ron were probably shagging. God, all of that *sexual tension!* It was obvious by the constant mocking and annoyance. *Everyone* saw it, and immediately believed the two would end up together. His heart was shattered and could not be fixed with a simple *Reparo*. He knew that he couldn't stay anymore. So, he packed his things, hoping that one day, he would find his soul across the horizon...and some other philosophical crap. When Hermione found Harry had left, she felt utterly broken down. If only she had told him her *true* feelings. Now, the chance was gone. Hermione, being the logical witch, knew that the *only* way she could continue to love Harry...was by marrying Ron. After the wedding, she later abandoned all her ambitions and become a frumpy house wife just like Ron's mummy. **MANY YEARS LATER WHERE HERMIONE IS MARRIED TO A GUY SHE DOES NOT LOVE, WHERE SHE HAS BEARED THE CHILDREN OF A GUY SHE DOES NOT LOVE, and WHERE SHE STILL CONTINUES TO STAY WITH A GUY THAT SHE DOES NOT LOVE. HARRY, RESIDENT SLUT, SPOTTED HERMIONE DURING THE MINISTRY BALL. HER REACTION:** "Harry?" "Hey," Harry gave her his "famous" lopsided (author wonders: how's the possible?) grin that made Hermione a bit weak in the knees. "I-I thought you were dead," she whispered. She suddenly noticed how close they were. Harry could count the freckles on her nose which only meant that he was invading her personal space. "Well, I'm not. How are you," he asked in a low voice. *"Hermy! Hermy--blargh."* *Hermione rolled her eyes. Her husband, Ron, was home again from the bar. That was what he seemed to be doing lately. Getting drunk without a care in the world.* *Regardless of the constant arguments, the affairs with other women, the cases of domestic abuse, she still stayed. She stayed because she loved Harry.* "I'm fine…" "Look, I know it's been 5 years…" "Harry, it's been 25 years." "Really?" Harry scratched his head. "That long?" "Yeah." "Well, then I've waited too long. I need to tell you…that I was in love with you the day that I left. And I still am in love with you," confessed Harry. Hermione couldn't believe it. Her heart leapt like a tiny leprechaun. Harry was in love with her! But why didn't he tell her sooner? "Why didn't you just talk to me?" "Ron." "So?" "He *fancied* you." "So?" "He's my best friend." "So?" Harry mentally groaned. *Damn*. He should have thought of that. "Well, your feelings didn't really matter back then. Besides having a rift between one guy and his best mate over a female caused much more drama," Harry stated matter-of-factly. He looked around before leaning in and whispering, "I heard a lot of girls dig the drama." Hermione didn't seem to believe him, so he continued to explain. "I've shagged Parvati, Lavender, Cho, Ginny, Hannah, and Padma...in fact, I may be the father of their babies. But they don't matter! I always knew I was in love with you, Hermione," Harry confessed, looking into her brown chocolate ice cream eyes. Yumm... Hermione saw the love in his eyes because she was an expert eye-reader. She believed him. "What do we do?" Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair*. DEAD SEXY.* "Well, there's not other option...let's just have an affair." "Okay!" *Omg* *this is by far the lonegest chapther i've writtin! 3 pages, hellz yeah.* 4. Nineteen Fucking Years Later ------------------------------- Parody…to the Extreme Viopathartic So, yeah, this is a parody of the Crapilogue. It's short but that's because the original was short too. Read along with the original Crapilogue if you like. You'll definitely see the contrast. Nineteen Fucking Years Later Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first of September was crisp and golden as an apple, and a family delightfully made their way to the train station. Along the way, they passed a vomiting homeless drunk, a robbery being investigated at the local bar, and a gaggle of almost bare prostitutes lined up against the wall facing the train station. One of the girls called out a name that sounded suspiciously like "Ginny" and asked whether or not she was coming back to her old job. "Ginny" ignored the woman. It was a fine, fine morning in London. A redheaded girl trailed tearfully behind her brothers, clutching her father's arm. "It won't be long, and you'll be going too," Harry told her. "Two years," sniffed Lily. "I want to go *now!*" "Hey, fuck off, little girl. I want that too because you're so goddamn annoying!" The girl backed down and ran away, only to be found in the dark, mysterious alleys of London later that day. The commuters were wondering why the fuck the family was carrying owls with them. It was like they'd never *seen* such creatures. It's not like it happened every year for them. Albus's voice drifted back to Harry over the surrounding clamor; his sons had resumed the argument they had started in the car. "I *won't*! I *won't* be in Slytherin!" "James, give it a rest!" said Ginny. "Stop scaring your brother. He's already a scared little twit. Merlin, why did I have you…" James gave her the impedicus and then broke into a run with his trolley and vanished through a brick column. As though to soothe his wife's temper, Harry leaned down and gave Ginny a kiss. "Harry, you're gonna mess up my makeup!" she whined, coyly blushing. She immediately reached for a mirror from her purse and checked her face. "Don't worry, honey; it doesn't make you any prettier." Side by side, they pushed the second trolley forward, gathering speed. As they reached the barrier, Albus winced, but no collision came. He wondered where the other Weasleys were and asked his mother. "We'll find them," said Ginny, annoyed, "now shut up." A group of four people emerged from the mist, standing alongside the very last carriage. Their faces only came into focus when Harry, Ginny, and Albus had drawn right up to them. Albus let out a relieved sigh. "Parked all right, then?" Ron asked Harry. "I did. Hermione didn't believe I could pass a Muggle driving test, did you? She thought I'd have to Confund the examiner." "No, I didn't," said Hermione almost with a straight face. She turned away from her husband, muttering, "I thought you'd have to kill him." "As a matter of fact, I did Confund him…and made sure he'd never have children again," Ron whispered to Harry, as together they lifted Albus's trunk and owl onto the train. The kids continued to discuss which House they would be sorted into when they finally went to Hogwarts. Ron attempted to make a joke, but the kids glared at them and he stopped. "Hey!" James had reappeared; he had divested himself of his trunk, owl, and trolley, and was evidently bursting with news. "Teddy's back there," he said breathlessly, pointing back over his shoulder into the billowing clouds of steam. "Just seen him! And guess what's he doing? *Shagging* Victoire!" He gazed up at the adults, evidently disappointed by the lack of reaction. "*Our* Teddy! *Teddy Lupin,* you bastards! Shagging *our* Victorie! *Our* cousin! Isn't that almost incest? And I asked Teddy what he was doing—" "You interrupted them?" Ginny petulantly said. "You are so, like, oh my god, like *Ron—"* "B-but—" James stuttered, wondering why the adults were so nonchalant about shagging. "They're—" "James, it's a natural part of life. Get used to it," said his mother. Behind Ginny's back, Hermione and Harry exchanged saucy winks with each other. This exchange went unnoticed by the redheaded witch; the same way it had gone unnoticed for a good nineteen years. James looked questionably at his aunt and dad. Of course, he always knew they made a good pair. He read his father's biography written by some lady named Just Kidding Rowling. What a bitch. She couldn't spot love if it punched her. Clearing his throat, Harry reached in his pocket and checked the battered old watch that had once been Fabian Prewett's. "It's nearly eleven; you'd better get on board, guys." "Don't forget to give Neville our love!" Ginny told James as she hugged him. "Mum! I can't give a professor *love!*" "Why not, I certainly did a few days ago." James blinked at his mum, but she only gave him another plastic smile. "Just say 'hi' to him them." "Bye, Al," said Harry as Albus hugged him. "Don't forget to visit Hagrid. Don't mess with Peeves because you'll die. Don't duel anyone *until* you're sure that you can beat their arse. And don't let your fucking brother wind you up. You're so gullible some times, you know." "What if I'm in Slytherin?" The whisper was for his father alone, and Harry knew that only the moment of departure could have forced Albus to reveal how great and sincere the fear was. "It doesn't matter to us. We'll still love you even if you get sorted into Slytherin." Albus Severus smiled, heartened by his father's words. Then, Harry added, "Actually, no. I lied. I'm surprised that you didn't commit suicide after learning how to spell your own name. Bring extra pairs of undies, buddy; you're gonna need them." His son's smile slowly faded… Harry patted his son's head after standing back up. "Oh, and if you ARE sorted into Slytherin, don't bother coming home. Alright? Okay, love you, buddy." Albus *Severus* wanted to sever his hand. Doors slammed all along the scarlet train, and the blurred outlines of parents were swarming forward for final kisses and last minute beatings. And just like that, Harry saw that his children were gone. Hallelujah! The train rounded a corner. Harry's hand was still raised in farewell. "He'll be all right," murmured Ginny. "Hey, fuck off, I didn't ask you. Now get away from me." Ginny turned her head, catching the eye of Draco who was standing near his wife Astonia Greengrass. He winked suggestively, and suddenly, Ginny realized it was time to get out the old gear and put her only skills back to work. Harry tapped Ron on the shoulder. "Ron...is that Luna blowing kisses at you?" Ron turned his head and indeed, the younger blond witch was wearing a seductive dress and casually waving and kissing the air across the street from them. "Uh...no." "Hey, is that Luna with a child?" "She has a *kid!*" Indeed, Luna was also holding the hand of a small red-headed child with freckles and blue eyes. He looked suspiciously like Ronald Weasley. "And Ron," Harry began, "is that Luna holding a sign to you?" Ron turned his head and indeed, she was holding up a huge sign with print that he could not read. "Uh, no..." "Hey, Ron, is Luna holding up a sign that says 'I'm having another one of Ron's babies! AFFAIR, AFFAIR, AFFAIR?" "No…" "Okay," Hermione and Harry said in unison. Obviously, he wasn't lying. Later on while the three friends were walking through Diagon Alley, Hermione and Harry quickly excused themselves. They suddenly found an urge to check some books at the local bookstore. Ron waved happily after them, not dwelling on the fact that Harry never really liked books and that he had slapped Hermione's behind as they were walking away. So yeah, all was not well because Ron soon found out about Hermione and Harry's lust/love driven affair and yelled, kicked, and yes, screamed. He also became the next Dark Lord. But after, he got a bit tired and retired from his position as Mr. Evil. He settled down with the ever-so dreamy Luna. Their daughter, Emily, eventually fell in love with Harry and Hermione's eleventh son Bibbity Bobbity Boo Potter. Find out about the Weasley-Potter romance in the sequel which will be posted in 5 years!!! **SERIOUS AUTHOR'S NOTE:** *Sadly, this is the last chapter of this story. For all of those who are wondering why, my dad was killed in a drunk driving accident.* *He was the drunk driver.* *This is a saddening event for me. Not because he died but because I won't get any of his money. I hated the bastard but still wanted his money.* *Also, the FBI is placing my family under the Witness Protection Program because my uncle is targeted by the mafia.* *And, my fingers got cut off by a knife so I had my pet monkey to type this message up.* *What a smart monkey.*