Sue Me
From LeoWiki
Preamble
After reading the analyses of awful, awful, awful, awful fanfics over at the Pass the Sporks and Bleeprin LJ Community, I decided to write a send-up of the genre.
I must admit I do not actually read fanfics on any sort of a regular basis., so it might not be a very accurate send-up. One hopes it will at least prove amusing on its own merits.
Alternate Locations
Sue Me
Hermione had changed over the summer. She was now a pure hardc0re punk goth, as exemplified by her punky torn jeans and the pearly iPod that billowed about her misunderstood hips. The iPod blared the goth-punk angst of Good Charlotte and Avril Lavigne out at the harsh uncaring world.
No one was more punk that Good Charlotte. Hermione just knew that.
She had spent two hours devising a special magic shield for her iPod the day she got her nose, lip, tongue, earlobes, all three nipples, and "lovebud" pierced. It was worth it. Oh, so very worth it. Normal electronics didn't work at Hogwarts, but her charmed iPod did.
The locks and tassels of her long raven-black hair fell up from her butt. She had natural chartreuse streaks - everyone thought they were dyed, but they weren't. THEY WEREN'T. The impudent fools ought to "Fear AWESOME Asplode" or so her Hot Topic tank top blared.
No one understood her. The colour of the stormy ocean that shone from her cinnamon eyes reflected great pain. With great pain, comes great responsibility.
No one understood her in this assembly. McGonagall least of all. The desiccated old slut stared at her with skanky emerald eyes and naturally untanning ivory skin. That bitch. She wasn't punk. Not punk at all. That bitch McGonagall had probably never worn torn jeans in her life. Sif, blech. Sif.
The rest of the day was a blur. Draco had retreated to his private headboy bedroom at the sight of her naturally red lips. The past haunted Hermione. She didn't notice Draco's Quidditch-toned muscles and the creamy love sausage stretching his stonewashed Parasuco jeans.
Her first class was Defense Against the Dark Arts. She walked in and her heart flared and her abyss pulsed.
Orlando Bloom was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was wearing a Hot Topic loincloth over his buff nude bod. Some thought his body was shaved. Sif! Hermione knew that Orlando was naturally hairless. Gilderoy Lockheart's Hollywood Celeb Orgies and Me attested to that.
Hermione's azure orbs bore through Orlando's minimalist Hot Topic britches. His leggings. His loincloth. She could taste her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He tasted of werewolf stamina and chocolate and peppermint and chicken. Mmm, Orlando.
"Class, today we are going to learn about safe sex. Dark Arts have always emphasized the elimination of inhibitions. Dark Witches and Wizards have fewer hang-ups about Lascivioturgy, or the Magic of Sex, than us. I am sure you will agree, Harry."
The Dork-Who-Lived nodded. His five hour rape at the hands of Lord Voldemort's tentacle monster had scarred him deeply. Very deeply.
Hermione's heart went aflutter and she moaned. Orlando had just stepped out of loincloth.
"As you can see," Orlando went on. "I'm a hermaphrodite. This is my penis and this is my vagina. Ms. Penis, please meet Mr. Vagina. If you would care to remember your third-year Creatures material, all elves are a special kind of hermaphrodite that can breed with oneself."
Orlando's elfhood thrust into the center of his femininity. His snake coiled thickly in on itself. Hermione licked her naturally red lips.
"Now, kids, we'll learn about the pull-out method of birth control."
Suddenly, Orlando's love muscle sputtered and shot his seed essence into himself. His eyes grew wide with horror. A single tear rolled down his naturally red cheek.
"Nooooo! I didn't pull out in time," he screamed. "I have impregnated myself."
His preggers knocked-up tummy swelled up with preternatural speed. Orlando's bun-in-the-oven imposed on the room.
Hermione ruffled through her impeccably punk Prada purse for her jar of Morning After pills and then stopped. The Morning After pill prevents conception by making uterine walls too slick for a zygote to find a foothold. Orlando's condition looked several months beyond that.
She ran out of class determined to save Orlando from the monstrosity that was his belly.
Boom. Crash. Ouch. Her ass hurt.
Hermione had collided with Evanescence, a transfer student from the My Little Pony Academy. Hermione's magical half-unicorn tattoo peeked out from under her hip-hugging torn jeans and giggled. Evanescence giggled. Hermione giggled.
"Evie," she squealed through her girlish glee. "Quick! We need to find Professor Snape."
Evanescence presented herself and Hermione mounted her. They gallopped through the changing halls and the moving stairs of Hogwarts. The hot heaving horseflesh between Hermione's legs awakened strange feelings in her. The Bloody Baron shouted something about Holland in their wake.
Hermione rushed breathlessly into Snape's office.
"Know-it-all," he greeted.
"Professor Snape, you must come quick!"
"Must I?" his obsidian eyes flashed. "Five points from Dunderhead, know-it-all."
"Severus, please. Orlando..."
"That pedestrian bimbo? SEVERUS? Ten points!"
Hermione jumped on Snape's desk. "Professor, please."
"You are forgetting yourself, mudblood know-it-all. Twenty points from Dunderhead."
She advanced on Snape like a rattlesnake avalanche. Her scowling face stopped two centimetres from his. They breathed in their face-off.
"Oh, know-it-all..." Snape melted.
"Oh, Sevvie," Hermione moaned as the dark lithesome figure took hold of her and slid her off the desk and pushed her against the wall and poured his soul into hers with a kiss.
Snape's eyes grew wide midst the tongue wrestling. Evanescence had pulled down his warlock leggings and plunged her coarse pony tongue into his ass. He gurgled and held Hermione tight. He had never gotten a rimjob from a pony before.
Ewan McGregor, the transfer student from Jedi Academy eyed with this interest. He had been sitting quietly in a dark corner of Snape's dark office waiting for the dark professor to finish his dark work and speak to him darkly when the orgy had erupted.
His midichlorians stirred. Ah, to hell with Jedi self-control.
The studly padawan grasped the tender heaving hindquarters of Evanescence and entered her tight anus with his mighty sabre. The foursome dripped with love.
"I've always wanted you," Hermione and Snape whispered in tandem. Their azure eyes drooled into each other's.
An hour later, Ewan McGregor was cuddling with Evanescence on the dark couch of Snape's grim office. Her naturally golden hoof stroked his ruby member. Ewan petted Evie's mane.
Hermione sat up. "Ohmigawd! Orlando's still pregnant."
"Pregnant?"
"He accidentally impregnated himself while teaching about birth control."
"Ah. That's Elves for you. Ruddy clumsy buggers."
Hermione wriggled her misunderstood hips back into her punk jeans. Severus pondered.
"Isn't there anything you can do, Sevvie sweetie?"
"Sure," Snape said and reached for the shelves. "I have a supply of RU-486 for cases just like this."
Whoosh. Suddenly, they apparated in Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Hermione and Severus gaped. According to Hogwarts: A History, apparation and disapparation were impossible on school grounds. Snape remembered that he was naked and nicked Orlando's Hot Topic loincloth.
Dumbledore stood in the doorway and cackled madly.
"You have walked right into my trap, fools," he snickered with evil glee and pulled off his mask.
"Charles Potter," Snape gasped.
"That's right, Snivellius. It is I. Prepare to die, nincompoops."
"Dad, no!" Harry screamed. "What is happenning? I thought you were dead. I wuv you!"
"Shut up, runt. Don't you see? It was I who killed your mother. It was I who unleashed the serpent on the mudbloods. It was I who framed Tom Marvelo Riddle."
"What?"
"I, CHARLES POTTER, AM LORD VOLDEMORT."
Snape didn't look surprised.
Hermione sprung into action. She grabbed her new punk Calvin Klein wand and bellowed "Ex Crucio". Her sex-recharged magic overwhelmed the senior Potter. He convulsed on the floor.
The dork-who-lived ran up and cried over the snivelling body. Hermione kicked the dark wizard between the legs. Hard.
She then looked closely at the pained visage of Harry's father. It looked suspicious.
She reached over and pulled off the second mask.
"Cornelius Fudge?"
The crinkly old man spat blood through his gnashed teeth and cackled.
Hermione pulled off the third mask.
"Sirius Black?"
"That's right, lassie. I even fooled his mother into believing that he was a traitor to the Cause. Ha!"
Something still wasn't right. She tentatively reached and pulled off the fourth mask.
"Professor McGonagall!"
"Damn you, Hermione, you punk. I knew I had to teach you a lesson as soon as I saw you in those cool goth clothes. You had no business being cool, Hermione. For the last few years, you were making me look hip and trendy in your nerd-wear. You had no business stopping. No business at all. You had to pay."
There was no fifth mask. Hermione shook her head.
"Professor McGonagall," she whispered. Her idol had first lost her lustre and now lost her honour.
A single tear rolled down Hermione's cheek.
Dementors arrived and took McGonagall away to Azkaban.
Snape administered the RU-486 potion to Orlando and rid him of the cancerous fetus.
Hermione went on to spend many breathless nights with her two hot-t-t-t professors.
