this is mr. potter and sirius though!

P&P vs HP

Rather than doing any writing this weekend my brain has been humming over a dream I had about a Pride & Prejudice and Harry Potter crossover crackfic [that I will never write]. With Hermione as Elizabeth, Sirius as Darcy and Riddle as ‘I’m here to fuck everything up’ Wickham.


Tom (Wickham): Did you know Miss Granger, that Mr. Black didn’t turn up and join my… *intense coughing* political group like he promised, I ended up losing a lot of money and a great deal of pride over the matter.

Hermione (Elizabeth): Oh how awful [puts a hand on Mr. Riddle’s arm] I’m not surprised, though, he’s been a total wanker since he got here.


Lavender (Lydia): [looking at an unknown man that has unwittingly crossed her path] Well where’s his black robe? I don’t care three straws for a man without one.

Parvati (Kitty): *incoherent squealing*

Lavender (Lydia): I mean he hasn’t even got a shiny silver mask, it’s like he’s not trying.


James (Bingley): [seeing Lily (Jane) for the first time at the Hogsmeade assembly ball] I’m going to marry her, now, like right now, do you think the churches are still open?

Sirius (Darcy): *Disdainful pureblood scowl TM*

James (Bingley): I’m going to buy her a pony, girls like ponies, or a boat… or a house. Maybe all of it, maybe a house for the horses that I will buy and one for the boat. 

Sirius (Darcy): *facepalm*


Hermione (Elizabeth): [In conversation with Luna (Charlotte)] Mr. Black does look over here often I wonder what he can mean by it?

Sirius (Darcy): *intense eye fucking*


Cormac (Mr. Colins): I really think your refusal comes too quickly Hermione.

Hermione (Elizabeth): I assure you Mr. Mclaggen I am earnest in my response.

Cormac (Mr. Colins): More fool you, do you have any idea what I’ve got going on underneath this outfit?

Hermione (Elizabeth): 

Cormac (Mr. Colins): Dick for days, Miss. Granger. Dick. For. Days.


Molly (Mrs. Bennet): Are you insane for rejecting Mr. Mclaggen Hermione? No easter eggs for you.


Sirius (Darcy): So in summary, despite me finding your whole family entirely repellant to my surprise your bookish personality and need to speak every thought that passes through your mind totally without filter is strangely endearing. Will you do me the honour of becoming the next Mrs. Black?

Hermione (Elizabeth): *Incoherent rageful screaming*

Sirius (Darcy): Really? You’re not jumping at this?

Hermione (Elizabeth): *Something about house elves*

[Sirius, enraged walks to the door before pausing for a moment looking back over his shoulder]

Sirius (Darcy): I got the fancy thing right though yeah? Like that would be a bit of a blow.

Hermione (Elizabeth): *slightly flushed* oh yeah, I mean, your a total arse but beautiful in an otherworldly way that will make me start hating myself in about three weeks.


Regulus (Georgiana): Why am I in a dress?

> @laisvega (I hope I haven’t ruined P&P for you)
> @kreeblimsabs (I hope this makes you smile)

2

“Where did you go?” asked Harry, staring at him. 
“Your dad’s place,” said Sirius. “Your grandparents were really good about it, they sort of adopted me as a second son. When I was seventeen I got a place of my own. I was always welcome at Mr. and Mrs. Potter’s for Sunday lunch, though.”

That time Peter forgot how to open the map

So Peter took the map, wishing to sneak a bit around. But it won’t work. IT WON’T WORK. He already said a dozen times “I am up to no good” but the damn map won’t reveal its secrets. What the hell though, he part-made that thing.
Can you see it too? How the map is about to bully him big time? I imagine something like that:

  • Mr. Padfoot would like to inform Peter that he is an idiot
  • Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Padfoot and would like to add that Peter is also an ass.
  • Mr. Moony informs that he is deeply disappointed
  • Mr. Wormtail would like to say there was no point in choosing such a hard password to begin with and that it is not Peter’s fault
  • Mr. Prongs would like to say that Peter just should have remembered better
  • Mr. Padfoot knew this would happen
  • Mr. Moony would like to remind Peter that he took his side when Mr. Prongs and Mr. Padfoot didn’t believe he could manage the map
  • Mr. Wormtail would like to say it could have happened to anyone
  • Mr. Padfoot would like to give a kindly reminder that this ‘anyone’ also forgot the common room password.
  • Mr. Prongs would like to add: twice.
  • Mr. Moony wants Peter to know that he better not make him look like a fool for defending him ever again.
  • Mr. Padfoot would like to say that angry Mr. Moony is cute
  • Mr. Moony would like to inform Mr. Padfoot that he is alone in the dorm
  • Mr. Prongs wishes he could forget what has just been said
  • Mr. Wormtail is wondering if they could give the password to Peter now?
  • Mr. Padfoot *currently not available*
  • Mr. Moony *currently not available*
  • Mr. Prongs would like to say to Mr. Wormtail that this is not going to happen. Also he advises Peter not to go in the dorm and tells him he wants the map back because shghjgsk where the hell is Evans?
4. We are not allowed to rally and petition for no exams.

First Year

“Excuse me? Professor?”

“Yes Mr. Black?” Professor McGonagall asked, lifting her head up from the papers on her desk to give her undivided attention to her student.

“I was wondering if exams were going to be canceled this year?” he said with his voice rising slightly at the end, as though he weren’t quite sure if he were asking or telling.

Minerva raised her eyebrows.

“Oh?” she replied curiously, “And why would they be canceled this year?”

Sirius glanced behind him quickly, before shrugging unconcerned.

She looked behind him to find his three best friends, James, Remus, and Peter, standing at the door, waiting for him to finish.

The young boy explained, “I just figured that exams were kind of pointless, so there wasn’t really any need for them.”

Minerva hummed, “Well, whether you understand their purpose or not, I can assure you that they will be happening as planned on schedule.”

He shrugged again, shooting her a cocky smile, “Well, it didn’t hurt to ask, right?”

He turned and bounced out of the room, returning to his friends who were eagerly waiting for him to tell them her response.

She waited until her door was firmly shut before rolling her eyes.

Second Year

“What’s this?” Minerva asked, glancing at the basket the boys in front of her had placed on her desk.

Inside were several different types of chocolates and candies, as well as a couple of books on Transfiguration.

“We just thought that we’d do something nice for you -” James said brightly.

“- in hopes that you’d do something nice for us in return,” Sirius finished.

She raised an eyebrow, “And what would that be?”

The boys glanced at each other.

“Well,” Sirius spoke slowly, “exams are coming up soon …”

Minerva cut him off, “And I’m sure that you are working very hard to prepare for them. Something you ought to be doing right now, as you will all be required to take your exams on the days you are required to.”

The boys let out a little disappointed moan.

“Thank you for the gift,” she told them, motioning for them to leave her office, “I will see you all in class later today.”

James turned to Sirius and whispered, “I told you you couldn’t bribe her into canceling it.”

“Maybe we can ask her to give us full marks …” Sirius said, pausing as though he were going to turn around and ask.

“Not gonna work,” James replied, grabbing the other boy’s arm and dragging him out the door.

When the door closed behind them, Minerva opened the gift basket and popped a piece of chocolate in her mouth.

Third Year

Misters James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew have all been excused from having to participate in their exams this year, due to their outstanding grades and their willingness to participate during class lectures. They will receive full marks on all of their exams and be free to spend the time doing whatever else they may wish.

-          Headmaster Albus Dumbledore

 

“And he just handed you this note, asking that you bring it to me?” Minerva asked the three boys who stood in front of her desk.

“Yes ma’am,” Sirius confirmed.

“He was very insistent,” James added.

She glanced in between the three before throwing the poorly forged note into the rubbish bin beneath her desk.

“10 points from Gryffindor,” she said, “for trying to forge the Headmaster’s signature. And you will be expected to show up to all of your exams, just as you have in past years.”

The boys groaned, realizing they were being dismissed.

Sirius hissed to the others as they walked out, “I told you we shouldn’t have added Pete’s name to the list.”

“Sorry guys,” Peter replied dejectedly, holding his round head down low, close to his chest.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, Pete,” James said, throwing his arm around the smaller boy in an effort to cheer him up, “she wasn’t likely to go for it anyway.”

They left the room, their heads held high.

Fourth Year

“NO MORE EXAMS! NO MORE EXAMS! NO MORE EXAMS!”

Minerva McGonagall rushed into the Great Hall with Albus Dumbledore on one side and Horace Slughorn on the other.

“What on earth is going on here?” she demanded to know, looking around the chaos in the room, searching for the source.

“It appears as though our students are holding a rally,” Albus replied calmly.

Minerva looked more closely at the signs the students were carrying, reading the messages the students had painted on.

Some read No more exams.

Others stated Exams are Worthless.

One off to the side had written, Give Us Our FREEDOM.

She sighed at the melodrama of her students, and wasn’t in the least bit surprised when two young fourteen year old boys with dark hair jumped up onto one of the tables in the middle of the room, casting a spell against their throats to project their voices.

“WHAT DO WE WANT?” Sirius Black yelled out to the crowd.

“FREEDOM!” The crowd shouted back simultaneously.

“WHEN DO WE WANT IT?” James Potter asked.

“NOW!” The crowd demanded.

The two boys turned to each other, wide smiles spread of their faces.

They motioned to Peter below who was holding up a sign with a chant and motioned for the crowd to follow along.

“1 – 2 – 3 – 4, WE DON’T WANT EXAMS NO MORE!
5 – 6 – 7 – 8, END THEM NOW, IT’S NOT TOO LATE!”

Albus turned to Minerva, and although he wasn’t smiling, there was a twinkle in his eye that tipped her off that he was amused at the display before him.

“As the head of Mr. Potter and Mr. Black’s house, I will leave you to decide what actions you would like to be taken. The rest of the professors and I can bring order back to the remainder of the school.”

Minerva nodded once, indicating that she understood.

She took a deep breath before shouting out, “POTTER! BLACK! My office, NOW!”

Fifth Year

Minerva hesitantly approached the two young men sitting on a bench outside the school.

Their positions mimicked the other, both hunched forward, their elbows on their knees, and their heads in their hands.

“Mr. Potter? Mr. Black?”

The two boy immediately looked up, neither wearing the bright smiles they were usually sporting.

“Are you two feeling alright?” she asked, wondering what could possibly have brought these two vibrant young men down.

“No,” James sighed, returning to place his head in his hands.

“We’re depressed,” Sirius added needlessly, following James’ lead.

Minerva wasn’t sure if she should be more amused or concerned.

“And why would that be?” she asked, curious to know the answer.

“Well, we had this great idea for what we could do to try and get out of O.W.L.s this year,” James spoke.

“But stupid Perfect Prefects Evans and Lupin ruined our plans,” Sirius finished bitterly.

“They’re not stupid,” James correctly his friend, “They just want to do well and didn’t want us distracting them or the other students.”

Sirius mumbled a couple of things under his breath that Minerva couldn’t quite hear.

Assuming his words were likely rude and inappropriate, she chose not to ask him to repeat.

“I see,” she said, taking a brief moment to feel pride in her decision to appoint Remus Lupin and Lily Evans as prefects for the Gryffindor House that year. She had hoped that Lupin would be a good influence on his friends, and it appeared that her intentions had been met.

“Well, I suppose there’s always next year,” she said, turning with a swoosh of her robes and heading back to the school.

“Yeah … next year …” James said, his voice raising in excitement.

“If we start planning now, we can make sure that everything will go perfect next year!” Sirius exclaimed.

Minerva was glad her back was to the boys so they couldn’t see her smile.

Sixth Year

“Why aren’t you students in class?” Minerva asked the dozens of students who stayed in the Great Hall after breakfast ended.

She was about to leave herself, to get ready for her first class of the day, when she realized there were far too many students left behind, many of whom she knew were supposed to be in class already.

She really shouldn’t have been surprised when Sirius and James worked their way through the crowd to stand at the front.

“We’re not going to class today,” James told her, his arms folded tightly across his chest.

“And why not?” she asked sternly.

“As you know, we’ve asked for exams to be canceled each and every year. And each and every year, our simple request has been ignore,” James replied.

Minerva pursed her lips together, holding in a sigh.

Sirius continued, “We have decided that we will not allow our request to be denied any further. Starting this moment, on this day, we are officially going on STRIKE!”

He yelled out the last word, turning back to the large group of students behind him who cheered in response.

“Oh really?” Minerva asked flatly, glancing at the time, knowing she didn’t have any to spare for another one of Potter and Black’s stunts.

“If you do not attend classes, you will each receive detention,” she informed them, watching as some of the younger students squirmed uncomfortably.

“We don’t care,” Sirius answered for the group, “We believe in our cause, and we will not be convinced to desert our desires.”

“And every student participating will lose 5 points each,” she added, internally pleased when the students behind the two ring leaders started whispering their worries to one another.

“Stay strong!” Sirius motivated the crowd behind him, “Our efforts will be rewarded greatly!”

“And of course,” Minerva spoke with an unconcerned shrug of her shoulders, “Any student participating in a strike will be unable to play in any upcoming Quidditch Match this year.”

There was a beat of silence before Sirius cursed under his breath.

“Welp,” James said, clapping his best friend on the back and turning to wave at the students behind him, “That was fun. Good strike guys. See you all next year.”

“Traitor!” Sirius called out after his friend as he left to rush to his first class, groaning in disappointment when the remaining of the students quickly dispersed as well.

Minerva joined them, leaving the room to attend her first class as well.

Seventh Year

Professor McGonagall look at the list of names unimpressed.

“As you can see,” James explained, “We have gathered signatures from over 1,000 people all petitioning for exams to be canceled for the year.”

“We don’t even have 1,000 students here at the school, Mr. Potter,” the stern woman replied.

“The kind residents who live in Hogsmeade were very sympathetic to our cause,” he answered.

She hummed, scanning over the scroll idly as she glanced at the names included on the list.

Her eyes narrowed in on a particular name about a third of the way down.

“Lily?” she asked surprised, turning to the red-headed Head Girl standing beside the Head Boy, her boyfriend James Potter.

Out of everyone in the school, Minerva would have never guessed that the stubborn and highly-motivated Lily Evans would be signing a petition to get out of exams.

Lily shrugged sheepishly, “I’m really nervous about my Transfiguration N.E.W.T.s,” she admitted.

Minerva set down the scroll and looked in between the two Heads.

“I will be sure to pass this list along to the Headmaster for his consideration,” she said, knowing that Albus would certainly be amused.

“In the meantime,” she looked in between the two, “I would highly suggest you continue studying for your exams which are rapidly approaching.”

“Of course, Professor, thank you for your time,” Lily said, grabbing James’ arm and pulling him towards the door as he saluted the Professor and called out, “Thank you, ma’am. We look forward to hearing the school’s decision.”

As soon as the door opened, she heard Sirius Black’s voice seep through as he asked, “What did she say? Was she impressed? Did it work? Are exams canceled?”

She shook her head as the door closed behind the students, shutting the remainder of the sound out.

It appeared that even after seven years, they still hadn’t learned.

  • Professor McGonagall: Believe me, Mr. Black, when I say you cannot do the two-year N.E.W.T.course in a few months.
  • [Five months later]
  • James: So you took her words as a personal challenge?
  • Sirius: I did the two-year N.E.W.T. course two days before my exams. Put that on my résumé.
If Hermione Were The Main Character In “Harry Potter”

Mr and Mrs Granger of London were proud to say that they had a witch for a daughter.

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Not that they said it much, or at all, to anyone. But they were proud all the same.

Proud, that is, until their daughter, Hermione, wiped all trace of her existence from their memory.

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It was act born not of spite or rebellion, but of love.

Though it pained her beyond measure to do it, Hermione was in the midst of a war, and she was trying to protect her parents from harm.

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To make sure they were completely safe, she shipped them off to Australia, where nothing dangerous ever happens.

Hermione had been doxxed by supporters of the cause she’d been fighting against for years: The Patriarchy.

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The Patriarchy’s first mistake had been to assume that women were somehow lesser. Their second mistake was to fuck with Hermione Granger.

Now bitches gonna die.

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The theme music is Taylor Swift. Because why the fuck not.

Six years earlier, Hermione first boarded the Hogwarts Express, excited to make friends and finally be valued for her talents, rather than teased for being different.

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“Hello, I’m Hermione Granger. Is that seat taken?”

“I’m Harry, Harry Potter.”

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“And sorry, this carriage is for boys only.”

It was in that moment that Hermione first learned a valuable skill.

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Throwing shade.

Of course, she’d heard of Harry Potter, as all witches and wizards had, and couldn’t believe he of all people would say something so silly.

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“I’ve read all the rules – there’s no such thing as a boys-only carriage.”

“Do you know who that is? That’s Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived.”

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“And he just said boys only, are you deaf or what?”

“It’s funny you should say that, because I’m Hermione Granger, The Girl Who Gave Literally Zero Fucks.”

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“And I sit wherever I damn well please.”

At Hogwarts, Hermione tried making friends.

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“I fucking love books.”

But not everyone was interested in knowledge.

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“Alright gorgeous, wanna see my wand?”

She did not want to see his wand. She couldn’t think of anything she’d like to see less.

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Boy wizards were just the worst.

Case in point: She tried her best to be helpful to Ron Weasley, but was shunned for it.

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What. An. Idiot.

It wasn’t just the boy wizards either. Grown-up wizards were equally terrible.

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Professor Snape completely ignored her in favour of the boys in the class.

Hermione did not like being ignored, nor did she like institutional gender bias.

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So she set that bitch on fire.

Her badass antics attracted the attention of Ron and Harry, who decided they wanted her in the gang.

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“You are fierce and independent and that scares us. Also you set a dude on fire. Will you be in our gang, please?”

Despite their vaguely offensive ways, Hermione sensed that Ron and Harry weren’t so bad, even if their strut game needed work.

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“Bitch, I’m fabulous.”

Over the course of the year, she saved Harry and Ron several times.

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Without Hermione, The Boy Who Lived would be dead as shit.

And when Harry legit murdered a dude, Hermione stood by him and tried not to judge.

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Harry had issues, yes. But who didn’t.

In second year, while others floundered, Hermione continued to excel.

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Even though she’d read that women are less likely to speak up in classrooms, Hermione gave literally zero fucks for socially mandated gender roles.

Time and again, she proved how badass she was.

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When Cornish blue pixies were released in the classroom and proceeded to wreak havoc, who was it who saved the day? Not the fucking teacher, that’s for sure.

But there were still obstacles.

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“You still running around with Potter? I’ll show you what a real wizard is.”

“With that wand?”

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“I doubt it.”

“Dirty witch.”

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“Go make me a sandwich.”

Hermione didn’t let Draco see her cry, but his words hurt.

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It wasn’t that she couldn’t deal with teasing, it was that he’d made her feel like an object, a thing, and she understood that no matter how clever she was, or how good at magic, she’d never be more than that to Draco and people like him.

Even her friends were ignoring her cleverness, it seemed.

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Like when she risked her life to discover what was petrifying students around Hogwarts, and it took them ages to realise she was holding the answer the whole time.

And when they finally figured it out and defeated the Basilisk, it was Harry and Ron who got all the credit.

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Still, she was happy for them. They were friends, after all, and they had been so brave, and friendship and bravery were more important than books and cleverness, right?

In third year, Harry was still getting all the praise, all the opportunity. By virtue of being born, it seemed.

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It’s not that he was dim, he just didn’t have to try. Most of the time it felt like he was being carried by incredible privilege. Sometimes literally.

Hermione was working twice as hard as everyone else. And still the teachers shunned her.

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“Tell me, Miss Granger, are you incapable of restraining yourself, or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all?”

She was finding it hard to hold back.

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“I’ll take pride in setting you the fuck on fire again, how about that?”

Harry and Ron had begun to think of Hermione as a sister, and felt protective toward her.

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But sister or not, she didn’t need them to protect her.

Especially when Draco Hair Gel was involved.

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“Hermione… Nice hoodie. It’d look even better on the floor of the Slytherin dorms.”

“What did you say to me? Go on, say that again.”

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“It was a compliment, I swear. It was just a compliment.”

“Yeah? Well so’s this.”

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Twitter wasn’t around in those days, but if it was, she’d have just invented the #BossWitch hashtag.

And despite valuing knowledge above all, part of her couldn’t help but enjoy how flawless she looked while knocking Draco Hair Gel the fuck out.

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“What? I woke up like this.”

It was clear that she was the one who was protecting Harry and Ron, and this was never more evident than when she revealed she could control time.

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She’d been using her Time-Turner to attend twice the number of classes, but she agreed to use it to help Harry save his godfather, even though it meant she’d never be able to use it again.

She’d given up her greatest power for her best friend, because helping people made her feel good.

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And though she hoped he understood the sacrifice she was making by letting her education slide, she knew he didn’t. Because men.

Boys her age only seemed to understand one thing.

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How much fun it was to play with their broomsticks.

So she was happy when fourth year rolled around.

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And brought with it the Tri-Wizard tournament and Bulgarian bombshell Viktor Krum.

More than happy. Excited. Ecstatic even. Positively quivering with anticipation.

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After years of boys, finally a man. And what a man.

It wasn’t long before Viktor noticed Hermione.

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*swoon*

And Hermione noticed Viktor noticing her.

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Their flirting was really next level stuff.

With the dance approaching, Ron joked that Hermione probably didn’t have a date. She was not amused.

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“I am fucking glorious. Of course I have a date.”

Viktor Krum had asked her to the dance, and the pair looked resplendent.

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The Daily Prophet, mouthpiece of The Patriarchy and not a paper with much in the way of moral fibre, wrote that “Hermione was all grown-up”.

Ron was more than a little jealous and asked Hermione to dance, but she didn’t want to.

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“Why are you dressed like that if you don’t want attention, eh?”

“Ron, you idiot! How dare you. How fucking dare you!”

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“I didn’t dress like this for Viktor, or for you, or for anyone. I dressed up for me. Don’t you get it? For me. So I could feel good. And you’ve ruined it!”

Ron tried to apologise, but it was too late, and he didn’t really understand what he was apologising for.

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It was more clear to Hermione than ever that this was a wizard’s world, and she was just another witch.

Trying to repair the damage, Harry apologised on Ron’s behalf.

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“He said he’s sorry. Ron’s a nice guy, not like Draco. He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“That’s the problem, Harry. He didn’t think what he was saying was wrong.”

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“And it’s not just Ron and Draco I have to worry about. It’s all wizards.”

“Not all wizards, though. Right?”

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“Yes all wizards, Harry.”

“Not all witches feel that way though, surely.”

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“Yes all witches. All witches have had to put up with comments like that, and worse.”

“But that’s… That’s impossible. If what you’re saying is true, that every witch feels threatened by every wizard, then…”

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“I just can’t believe it.”

Fireworks were exploding in Hermione’s brain. Her heart was pounding. She was furious.

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If she couldn’t get Harry, her most reasonable, supportive male friend, to understand, then she may as well give up.

But then the Dark Wizard Voldemort returned.

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“Surprise, bitches!”

And summoned his Death Eaters, including Draco’s dad, Luscious Locks, to update him on their plan.

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“We’re not oppressing all witches quite yet, my lord. But soon. Soon.”

Harry witnessed the whole thing.

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He couldn’t believe his ears.

Harry managed to escape. But his world had changed forever.

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“It’s The Patriarchy, it’s real. It’s really real!”

Harry apologised to Hermione.

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“You were right. I’m so sorry. Yes all witches.”

Hermione forgave Ron, realising he, too, was a victim of The Patriarchy.

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“When you grow up in a culture that allows wizards to speak to witches that way, how are you supposed to know that it’s wrong? But do it again and I’ll cut you.”

Krum asked Hermione to write, but she was kind of over her Bulgarian phase.

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Krum was a physical being. He valued looks, not books, and Hermione longed for conversation and intellectual stimulation. But it was fun while it lasted.

Fifth year at Hogwarts heralded the arrival of the pinkest evil of all, Dolores Umbridge.

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Some witches just want to watch the world burn.

Professor McGonagall confronted Umbridge, and revealed herself to be quite the boss witch.

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“Hurt my students again, and I’ll fuck up your shit.”

While Harry was too sad to do anything, Hermione came up with a plan.

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“We need to train ourselves to fight The Patriarchy. Who’s in?”

Rebellion was a suit she’d not worn much, and she liked it.

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“It’s sort of exciting, isn’t it. Breaking the rules. Destroying the joint.”

They commenced training in secret. Hermione let Harry take the lead on teaching, to help boost his confidence.

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It turned out Ron’s sister Ginny was pretty badass, and Hermione was glad to have another capable, independent witch around.

Hermione was the first of the students, other than Harry, to conjure a Patronus.

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Harry had first conjured a Patronus two years earlier, while standing atop his lofty mountain of privilege.

But Umbridge, there to ensure nobody questioned The Patriarchy, hunted down their secret training room.

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“And before you start, Miss Granger, this is not about sexism. It’s about ethics in magic teaching.”

When confronted, Dumbledore did what Dumbledore did best.

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Left teenagers to deal with everything.

It didn’t help that Harry was making terrible decisions.

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“Let’s murder that bitch.”

Hermione convinced him not to. Then he decided to go rescue Sirius from the Ministry of Magic.

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“But what if it’s a trap?”

It was totally a trap.

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Sigh.

It was Luscious Locks and fellow soldier of The Patriarchy Bellatrix Lestrange.

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She was the kind of witch Hermione liked least. One who was interested in keeping The Patriarchy as it was because it suited her interests.

Ginny, being a badass, destroyed the joint.

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Hermione was eternally thankful that somebody knew what they were doing.

Unlike Harry, who had no idea what he was doing.

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He was impulsive and a bad listener, and he got Sirius killed.

Despite this, and that brown corduroy blazer, the rest of the group still looked to Harry for answers.

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At least there was a group, Hermione thought. It could be worse.

She’d grown quite fond of her two best friends.

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She wondered if in an alternate universe, there was a Hogwarts School full of children who didn’t have to worry about The Patriarchy.

She even helped Ron make the Quidditch team with a little well-timed magic.

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Ron didn’t have much in the way of natural talent, but she appreciated his commitment to his friends. He was the kind of person she didn’t mind giving extra help in life.

Unlike Johnny Privilege himself, Harry James Potter, who had found himself a book full of potion cheat codes.

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The last thing he needed was another helping hand. Hermione warned him about using the book, but did he listen?

No, he didn’t.

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And he almost killed Draco with a spell from it.

In retaliation, Draco joined The Patriarchy.

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“Why should witches get all the benefits, huh? Wizards are the ones who are really being persecuted. Misandry is what it is. Misandry!”

Snape also outed himself as a member of The Patriarchy.

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And then he killed Dumbledore.

“Well, I suppose I had this coming.”

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“Severus, sever me.”

Now the most powerful wizard in the world was dead.

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And that brings us back to where we started.

The fight against The Patriarchy was beginning in earnest.

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Hermione was nervous. She was a thinker, not a fighter. How was she supposed to fight a war?

Harry, however, had no such doubts. He had a plan and everything.

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“We’re going to hang out in the woods for three to five months or so.”

“Three to five months?”

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“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course I know what I’m doing. I’m Harry Potter. There’s a prophecy about me and everything.”

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“We’re going to wait here, and then when the time is right, we’ll go back to Hogwarts and destroy the joint, etc.”

But all that walking around in the woods made Ron lose his shit.

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“Sorry, but I just don’t understand. Witches and wizards are equal already. It’s not like it’s the 1950s. It’s not like anyone is burning witches these days. You want to oppress wizards, is that it? You want all the power, don’t you!”

Ron left, despite Hermione trying to appeal to his sense of reason.

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“This isn’t about having more, Ron. It’s about being equal. Witches and wizards don’t have the same rights and opportunities. Why won’t you understand?”

Hermione, who had been singlehandedly responsible for their survival with her badass wilderness skills, took solace in her first true love: books.

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“Sometimes I think I should have been a Ravenclaw, you know? I think I’d look pretty fucking darling in blue.”

The weeks dragged by, and Hermione was beginning to regret letting Harry choose the plan.

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And then Ron came back.

“I finally understand. It’s not just some witches, but all witches, who are subject to broad and pervasive sexism everywhere they go, every day.”

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“Once you see it, you can’t help but see it. It’s like we’re living in a patriarchal dystopia. Surrounded by prejudice and oppression. And trees.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Ron Weasley! I’ve been telling you this for years.”

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“And now you get it. Now. Wasn’t it enough when I was telling you?”

With Ron back, and after months of wandering around forests, Hermione finally took charge. She was ready.

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“Let’s go fuck up their shit.”

Hermione had a plan. While Harry distracted everyone with his…Harryness…she snuck the entire Order of the Phoenix into Hogwarts.

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And she saved Harry and Ron’s lives at least three times on the way there. How many was that now? She’d lost count.

McGonagall fought off Snape, and in her first act as Hogwarts Headmaster, activated the defences.

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“I’ve always wanted to use that spell. And be free of patriarchal oppression.”

Sensing this might be her last night on earth, Hermione kissed Ron.

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She didn’t have time to explain that this was not a binding contract guaranteeing a future involving marriage and children. Sometimes a kiss was just that.

Draco was still trying to make this all about him.

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“Witches get a free ride, it’s wizards like me who suffer. Where’s my special treatment? Where’s my kiss? I deserve a kiss. It’s misandry I tell you.”

“Misandry? It’s not even a word!”

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“Don’t misinterpret your feelings of inadequacy for the cultural, social, economic, and political oppression of an entire gender. Feeling personally maligned does not a wider prejudice make.”

Draco didn’t listen, so Hermione shut him down the best way she knew how.

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She set that bitch on fire.

Outside, things had escalated somewhat.

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The Battle of Hogwarts had begun.

Hermione broke the bad news to Harry: For the plan to work, he’d have to die.

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“Sorry, bro.”

With Harry dead, Voldemort marched up to Hogwarts.

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“Harry Potter is dead. Long live The Patriarchy.”

But Hermione wasn’t done yet.

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“Not so fast, cockface.”

“The Girl Who Gave Literally Zero Fucks, we meet at last.”

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“You’re too late. We win.”

“You know, I used to hate you, but now I pity you.”

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“You don’t hate witches. You hate yourself. That’s what this is really about.”

Harry was alive the whole time!

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So much privilege, that boy. Even death gave him a pass.

Hermione told Harry to keep Voldemort distracted.

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Harry was OK with this, as he had zero problem being centre of attention all the fucking time.

Meanwhile, Bellatrix tried to kill Ginny.

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Bellatrix was the kind of witch who would say she only had wizard friends.

But Molly Weasley was having none of it.

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“Not my daughter, you bitch! And certainly not the image of witches you perpetuate!”

Hermione had figured out the source of Voldemort’s power, the one thing he couldn’t live without.

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His snake.

Using Ron as bait, Hermione cornered it.

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She needed to get the timing just right.

She’d given Neville the most important job, because good leadership is about good delegation, and he arrived right on schedule, cutting the head off Voldemort’s snake.

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Just the tip, really.

With his snake dismembered, Voldemort crumbled away to nothing.

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And took his archaic notions of gender roles and patriarchal values with him.

“Does this mean The Patriarchy is over?”

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“Unfortunately no. Their figurehead is gone, yes, but the fight will continue. We need to weed out and destroy sexism in all its forms. Bitches got work to do.”

Hermione did just that. Instead of settling down and having kids like Harry did, she dedicated her life to wiping out sexism, in both the magic and Muggle world.

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All was well.

What would Lily’s Marauder name be, though? Mrs Prongs? Omg what if James and Lily got married and then Sirius calls them Mr and Mrs Prongs in his best man speech and then James is like “That’s not our name, Padfoot-” and then Sirius is like “Course it is.” “No, Sirius-” Lily says but then Sirius laughs casually and says “I’d check those marriage contracts you’ve just signed if I were you.” because he’s totally charmed the parchment to say Mr and Mrs Prongs on it and it’s a binding magical contract or something so basically James and Lily Potter were legally the Prongses.

Chapter by Chapter: Order of the Phoenix

4Think about what you’ve just memorised’, said Lupin quietly. Harry thought, and no sooner had he reached the part about number twelve, Grimmauld Place, than a battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of its way.