by Elvish Aurora
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A/N Hi! I'm Troy Mclure! You may remember me from such author's notes as "I Don't Own SQUAT", "Will you review the FRIGGIN fic before I slash my wrists", and "I'm just a sugar high teenybopper who can't write for monkey droppings!" Today, I'd like to inform you all that Elvish Aurora does not own Harry Potter, the Princess Bride (she's straight, folks!), or... me! Thank you and REAR! *grins*
Hermione Granger was wearing all black. Of course, so was everybody at Hogwarts school, but that's beside the point. The reason that I'm telling you about her wardrobe is that she was wearing black due not only to the fact that it was the school dress code, but also because she was mourning. Mourning for none other than the brain-washed (although I, personally, don't see a difference in mind power between the before and after) Gilderoy Lockhart, on the third anniversary of his disappearance.
"Oh Gilderoy Lockhart!" cried Hermione dramatically, dancing around the room with a photograph of him, "How I miss your sparkling blue eyes, your locks of shimmering golden hair, and your patented radiant smile! Ani rotzah ha'oznayim shelo, Gilderoy baby! Oh, you can't even comprehend how much Ani rotzah ha'oznayim shelo!"
Here she gazed longingly at the former celebrety's ears, noticing how perfectly they were half-attached to his head, and how the cartilage curled gracefully, and how there was no earwax or nasty puss-filled specimens in the folds. Her dreams were suddenly interrupted when Ron burst into the dorm, holding a platter in his hand and munching on the bunt cake that was on it. He stopped short when he saw Hermione sashaying around the room with a framed picture. A glob of mashed-up cake tumbled out of his mouth as he gawked.
"Hermione... please explain to me what you're doing," he asked. Hermione blushed.
"Just.... thinking... and stuff...." she confessed.
"Right," replied Ron. "You know, Hermione, it seems to me that you think a lot... but in all of your years of thinking, I don't recall ever seeing you dance with a photograph while doing so."
Hermione scowled, hurt.
"Have you no humanity? I am mourning for my lost love, Gilderoy Lockhart! Twas three years ago today when he vanished myseriously into the.... ABYSS...." When she said "abyss", she looked up dramatically and her eyes did a funky little rolly thing as she reached out into nothing. Ron arched his eyebrow and forked another piece of cake.
"But... He didn't vanish into an abyss, he just vanished... And you haven't mourned for him at all since he disappeared-" (Hermione heaved a sob at the last word) "-and plus, you decided long ago that you hated PrettyBoy's guts, after the whole snakey bloody rocky under-the-sink episode! Why do you suddenly care now?"
"Ummm... The same reason that you're here, in a GIRL'S dormitory, eating a bunt cake for no reason," answered Hermione, sniffling. She huffed at Ron's clueless look, and pulled a huge book entitled "The Stupid, Insane, and Sometimes Incomprehensible Ways of Fanfiction Authors". Flipping to the index, she started muttering to herself.
"P... P... Padfoot gets let off... Potions teacher breaks out singing and dancing in the middle of class.. Playing with matches... Aha! Plotholes! See page 1356... Here we are. 'Plot-hole: n. A highly unlikely, uncalled for, and/or confusing event that takes place without warning, backround, or preceeding explanation, occuring when the author lacks originality and/or couldn't give a monkey's week-old droppings as to whether or not his/her story makes any sense whatsoever. Example: James Potter beat Draco Malfoy over the head with a desk lamp. (Explanation: James Potter is deceased and th
erefore is physically unable to beat anybody over the head with a desk lamp.)"
"Oh....." Ron said, nodding, "So THAT'S why I was talking all ghetto and randomly crashing into walls all last week..."
"Yep," replied Hermione, "And it's also why my hair was dyed green last Thursday, and why you walked in on me snogging with Snape on Tuesday. Okay, are we ready to get on with the fic?"
"Ready when you are!" Ron said, stuffing more cake into his huge mouth. Hermione immediately stopped acting like herself and started sobbing.
"I can't stand this!" she started again, proceeding with her dancing. "Oh Gilderoy! What I would give to see your beautiful face! Your words are like honey on my tongue! Your smile is the wind beneath my wings! Your wardrobe is.... interesting! You--- GODDAMMIT, WHO PUT THAT TABLE THERE?!"
Ron, who had been innocently and messily munching on his bunt cake, jumped at the last statement. Hermione had been so wrapped up in sashaying around the room, she'd bumped her shin on Parvati's end table! Suddenly, a cheesy voice filled the air.
"And THAT, my friends, is why we DON'T blindly parade around a room full of furniture without shin guards! Ain't it the truth, ain't it the truth?" it cheesed. Hermione frowned at the person in Muggle clothing who had mocked her, or at least she thought he had. She glowered at his blue eyes, golden hair, and wide sm--- Wide smile?! Hermione glomped.
"Oh GILDEROY, it's YOU!"
At this, Ron, who had finished his cake, gave a look of disgust. His cake was also disgusted; in fact, it was so disgusted, it decided to go back to it's platter. Ron paled and walked out of the room, unnoticed by the two others.
"What?" He-Who-Looked-Like-Gilderoy-Lockhart inquired, "My name is Troy McClure! You may remember me from such films as 'Springtime for Volders', 'Dementors Can't Dance', and 'Oh, the Wonderful World of Saran Wrap!' Amazing stuff, that saran wrap is!"
Hermione gasped. "But... Your real name is Gilderoy Lockhart! Remember?" She held up a grinning copy of "Magical Me" and pointed to the face on the cover.
"Why, that fellow looks remarkably like me!" commented Gilder...Troy. A tear formed in Hermione's eye.
"You don't... remember..." she whispered. Just then, none other than Draco Malfoy barged into the room with a blue can in his hand.
"Why look!" observed Gilder/Troy, "It's Draco Malfoy drinking a Pepsi!"
"Actually, this isn't Pepsi, this is Pepsi *Twist*," Draco sneered, unzipping the can. He then started to unzip himself, revealing.... his bare chest. He blushed.
"Oops, sorry, wrong zipper." He found the correct zipper and, unzipping it, stated "And I'm not Draco Malfoy. My name is Inigo Montoya. You ate my bunt cake. Prepare to die."
"Well THAT'S violent!" Troy said.
"I didn't eat your bunt cake... My friend Ron did. Go kill him, not me," corrected Hermione.
"Oh... Sorry, lady...." he apologized. He then left the room to hunt for Ron, who was still getting sick in the bathroom.
"Troy, how did you get here?" Hermione asked.
"Why, that's simple! I uh.... I... umm... Line!"
A girl with freaky eyes stood in front of him, holding a cue card.
"It was a plot hole!" he read. The girl gave him a wink of approval and scampered off.
"Ah..." Hermione sighed again. "Well... I know what happened to you now... and I know you're safe, so... I suppose I can stop mourning and get back to loathing your memory."
She picked up the picture frame, set it carefully on her table, and uncerimoniously blew it up with her wand.
"O-kay then!" grinned Troy, not really understanding a thing. He then faced the audience.
"It's time for me to go now, dear fans! But remember, A is the letter that comes before Z, D, H, R, and every other letter in the alphabet! Drink Pepsi Twist!" He gave them one last grin and disappeared in a puff of pink smoke. Hermione didn't care, because due to the plot hole, apparition was momentarily allowed at Hogwarts.
The camera (there's a camera??) then focused on Hermione, who ignored it. She put her Lockhart books into a pile and made a blue bonfire, managing not to burn anything else but the books. Then she hopped into bed and started reading "Slytherins: How to Step on a Snake Without Getting Poisined". She read a page, then turned the page, and read another page. Getting bored, she put that book down and started reading "Before the Willow Whomped: A Tale of The Violent Tree's Roots" by W. Weeping. She read for a while, and then looked up, sporting an exasperated expression.
"Oh, BUGGER OFF!" She threw a convieniently placed bunt cake at the camera and the fic was no more.
A/N I *really* need to work on these endings, don't I? *grins* Yeah, they sort of cut you off. Oh well, viva la METMA, and thanks Becky for inspiring the Pepsi Twist idea! Hey... Is this the first fic in the world without an end note requesting a review? *giggles* I'm such a rebel... but uh... I still wouldn't mind reviews, you know...