Harry Potter and the Serving of Justice

Hermione was getting ready for bed when she heard a knock at the door.  Toothbrush sticking out of her mouth, she glanced in annoyance at the clock. 

Quarter to midnight. 

                “Who the fuck…” she questioned, foamy toothpaste flying from the corners of her mouth. 

She rinsed, wiping her mouth on her flannel sleeve.  The knock came again.  It sounded as though someone were knocking on her newly painted door with some sort of phallic object…staff, cane, or glass dildo…she hadn’t decided yet. 

Pissed as hell, Hermione flung open the front door, wand at the ready, to reveal an elderly man in white robes, his eyebrows so long, they extended past the rim of his wizard’s hat.  Hermione’s mouth gaped.

“Gandalf the White?” stammered Hermione in disbelief, looking at the staff he had used to knock on her door. 

He inclined his head.

“The character Dumbledore was so poorly modeled after?” she pressed.

There was a rustling from a bush behind Gandalf, and Dumbledore burst out of it, brandishing his withered, blackened hand.

“I am no Gandalf doppelganger!” He yelled. 

Gandalf sighed at the interruption, turned, and rapt his staff smartly on the ground crying, “WIZARD! YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” 

The ground split beneath Dumbledore’s feet, and he fell into the fiery chasm to his death.  Gandalf brought his hands together, and the chasm closed. 

Hermione grinned broadly, watching the white wizard run his fingers over his incredibly long eyebrows, smoothing them.

The crickets resumed their chirping.

                “I found this lurking in Middle Earth,” he said, dragging a young Tom Riddle Jr. into view by his ear. “I think it belongs to you.” 

Hermione smiled in sick pleasure.  Her eyes wide, she looked directly at Gandalf.

                “Thank you,” she said, taking Tom’s ear between her fingers, all the while never breaking eye contact with Gandalf, “I’ll take good care of it.” 

She tilted her head creepily to the side, and Gandalf shuddered. 

                “Well,” said Gandalf, “I’m off to Narnia.  I hear there’s some lion there stealing my Christ-figure thunder.  Gandalf out.” 

And with that, he jumped onto the back of an eagle that dropped down out of the sky and flew out of sight. 

Tom and Hermione stared at the sky, looking at the spot where Gandalf had been. 

“That,” said Hermione, “was freaking awesome.”

“Word,” agreed young, sexy Voldemort. 

Hermione turned her head slowly as her attention shifted to the evily handsome boy whose ear

was currently pinched between her fingers.  She smirked.

                “Slytherin?” inquired Sexy Tom Riddle. 

Hermione simply gave a low laugh that sent chills running down Tom’s spine.

“You know, having a nose really helps with your sex appeal,” she commented.

Tom blanched.

“I didn’t have a nose??”