100 Ways to Kill a Weasley
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
93
Views:
41,798
Reviews:
236
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
93
Views:
41,798
Reviews:
236
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Afternoon Tea For The Squid.
Hey everyone. This is my first post ever ever ever ever on AFF.net, so please spare me. This was quickly written (Barely 15 minutes) but here you have it: My mockery. All these chapters of an accidental death and then Hermione being depressed kind of made me sad, so I wrote my own sadistic, twisted little story to make myself happier.
-Trixie
* * *
Now that the theatrical production of being a sixteen year old had passed over, Hermione decided that it was time for her lover to pass over also. After all, a split personality can not be contained by someone pathetically dull as Ronald Weasley.
And there she was, watching Weasley skim rocks along the edge of the lake, pissing off the giant squid. She snuck up behind him until she was two steps behind him. Any normal person would have felt her presence. But alas, we must not blame Ronald Weasley for being a dunderhead.
Hermione pulled out her scythe, looking much like the Grim Reaper, took a step forward, pulled Weasley’s head back by the hair and decapitated him in one swift move.
After she kicked the body into the lake, the squid greedily snatched its afternoon tea and tentacle-waved at Hermione’s retreating body.
“We had good times, didn’t we?” she asked the head.
Silence.
“Oh come now, don’t be like that!”
Silence.
Hermione stood in the Great Hall with a head in her hand. Dumbledore was making his way out the door when he noticed the face at knee height.
“Oh dear. Looks like we’ve had an accident. You did kick the body into the lake, right?”
He paused while Hermione nodded.
“Excellent, excellent! I always did hate that grave digging spell. Made me feel all grimy afterwards.”
Hermione simply smiled and nodded.
“Well, Cheerio! I have a meeting with Mr. Malfoy. I daresay he’ll be quite the excitement!”
In a flurry of orange, green and purple robes, Dumbledore vacated the castle. He looked much better for wear after Draco sacrificed Harry over an altar to bring Dumbledore back to life.
From the shadows, Professor Snape took a step forward.
“Well, well, Miss Granger. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Surprised, Hermione noted that he didn’t sneer, he purred.
“Well, now you know I do,” she explained cheerily, throwing the head at a window, where the skull cracked and revealed an empty, dry wasteland of fluff, cotton and dust.
There may have been a miniature porn magazine, broomstick and plate of food among the dust, but Hermione couldn’t have cared if it was a full sized functional brain.
“Indeed.” Snape eyed her over, his eyebrow twitching slightly in approval.
“So, professor. Do I get a detention for murdering a fellow student in cold blood?”
Her request was deadpan serious, but Snape had other plans.
“Yes. For the rest of the year. Friday and Saturday nights . . . my office . . .10:30,” he smirked and strode down to the dungeons in a flash of black robes.
-Trixie
* * *
Now that the theatrical production of being a sixteen year old had passed over, Hermione decided that it was time for her lover to pass over also. After all, a split personality can not be contained by someone pathetically dull as Ronald Weasley.
And there she was, watching Weasley skim rocks along the edge of the lake, pissing off the giant squid. She snuck up behind him until she was two steps behind him. Any normal person would have felt her presence. But alas, we must not blame Ronald Weasley for being a dunderhead.
Hermione pulled out her scythe, looking much like the Grim Reaper, took a step forward, pulled Weasley’s head back by the hair and decapitated him in one swift move.
After she kicked the body into the lake, the squid greedily snatched its afternoon tea and tentacle-waved at Hermione’s retreating body.
“We had good times, didn’t we?” she asked the head.
Silence.
“Oh come now, don’t be like that!”
Silence.
Hermione stood in the Great Hall with a head in her hand. Dumbledore was making his way out the door when he noticed the face at knee height.
“Oh dear. Looks like we’ve had an accident. You did kick the body into the lake, right?”
He paused while Hermione nodded.
“Excellent, excellent! I always did hate that grave digging spell. Made me feel all grimy afterwards.”
Hermione simply smiled and nodded.
“Well, Cheerio! I have a meeting with Mr. Malfoy. I daresay he’ll be quite the excitement!”
In a flurry of orange, green and purple robes, Dumbledore vacated the castle. He looked much better for wear after Draco sacrificed Harry over an altar to bring Dumbledore back to life.
From the shadows, Professor Snape took a step forward.
“Well, well, Miss Granger. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Surprised, Hermione noted that he didn’t sneer, he purred.
“Well, now you know I do,” she explained cheerily, throwing the head at a window, where the skull cracked and revealed an empty, dry wasteland of fluff, cotton and dust.
There may have been a miniature porn magazine, broomstick and plate of food among the dust, but Hermione couldn’t have cared if it was a full sized functional brain.
“Indeed.” Snape eyed her over, his eyebrow twitching slightly in approval.
“So, professor. Do I get a detention for murdering a fellow student in cold blood?”
Her request was deadpan serious, but Snape had other plans.
“Yes. For the rest of the year. Friday and Saturday nights . . . my office . . .10:30,” he smirked and strode down to the dungeons in a flash of black robes.