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Chapter 3 : The Ending
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Draco walked out into the dark night, exhaling deeply as he prepared to show the level of angst that was building underneath the romantic fluff. He would not stand by and watch Hermione become a football hooligan, so now he had decided to take matters into his own hands, and help ensure the defeat of her newfound friends.
He turned around a corner and disapparated, reappearing in a rougher section of the city. He uncomfortably stepped into a dilapidated old pub, which was painted in the colors of Millwall football club. He walked into a private room in the back of the pub, where he was instantly surrounded by a group of rough looking men, and soon found himself face to face with Tommy Hatcher, the most infamous football hooligan in England.
“Oi, what are you doing here, pretty boy?” Tommy barked, as his associates roughly patted Draco down.
“My father will hear of this,” Draco protested. (There it is, the only in-character line Draco will say in this story)
“Well anyway,” Draco continued, “I want to join your firm, I know you have a big match against Fulham coming up, and as you know, their firm has been making quite a name for themselves. I can help you beat them.”
Tommy let out a hearty laugh, “And how would you do that, Blondie?”
Draco pulled out his wand and shouted, “Incendio!” causing the table to catch on fire.
Tommy’s expression turned very serious, “Alright, mate, you have yourself a deal.”
Meanwhile, Hermione grew very tired of waiting for Draco to return to the restaurant, so she decided to go for a brief walk outside. She saw a man approaching in the shadows of the dark street; she hoped it was Draco, but she was greatly disappointed to discover that it was actually Cedward Cullen-Diggory.
“Hermione, I tracked your scent and followed you here because I love you,” he announced in the creepiest voice possible.
A stray dog that was wandering nearby then transformed into a boy and announced, “Hermione, my name is Jacob. I’m a werewolf, and I am also in love with you.”
Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust, “Allow me to clear some things up for you. First of all, an actual werewolf, such as Remus Lupin, involuntarily transforms once a month on the full moon, and has no control over his actions while he is transformed. Jacob, you transform yourself at will and maintain control of your actions, which means that you are not a werewolf, you are an animagus. And Cedward, vampires don’t sparkle when they’re exposed to sunlight, they bloody die. If you two losers want to be in our stories, you had better start abiding by our rules, which are also the accepted rules of mythology. Otherwise, you can just sod off to whatever rubbish story you came from.”
Cedward and Jacob sulked away in disappointment while hundreds of Harry Potter fans suddenly appeared and gave a rousing standing ovation. Draco then returned, and he and Hermione eyed each other suspiciously, wondering what the other was planning. They apparated back to Hogwarts (canon Hermione would remind you that you can’t apparate into Hogwarts, but we’ve already established that canon does not apply in this Dramione). They returned to the honeymoon suite with a great sense of foreboding hanging over their fairytale romance.
The next day, Hermione promptly arrived at Fulham’s stadium, Craven Cottage, to attend the Fulham vs. Millwall match. Because describing the actual match would not be relevant to this tale of romance and angst, we shall skip ahead to immediately after the match, when Hermione rendezvoused with Bart and the rest of the firm outside the stadium near the Michael Jackson statue.
“I was hoping more would show up, we’re going to need reinforcements to fight the Millwall firm,” Bart observed.
All of the sudden, Ron Weasley swept down on his broomstick, leading a group of orange clad wizards.
“The cavalry has arrived, I’m Ron Weasley, and this is the Chudley Cannons firm,” he proudly announced.
Hermione sighed, “What are you doing here, Ron?”
“I am here to protect you and fight for you, because it’s what I do. All the other chumps in the story say they love you, but Ron Weasley is the only one who actually does,” he said with pride.
Hermione looked back with a Mary Sue-ish expression of sympathy, “Ron, I explained this already, you’re doing what canon Ron would do. Dramione Ron is supposed to be unfaithful and emotionally abusive.”
“Bloody hell,” said Ron, as he scratched his head in confusion.
Yet another interruption came when the Millwall firm appeared, much larger than the Fulham firm, and armed with cricket bats, golf clubs, and tasers. Leading the group, dressed in a long black cloak that accentuated his bad boy aura, was Draco Malfoy. Tommy Hatcher walked alongside him, and he picked up and threw every car that was parked along the road, just because he could.
The two firms stood and faced each other, preparing for an epic battle. Hermione was prepared to lead her side into battle, but she was suddenly taken aback when she once again was enchanted by Draco’s round silvery orbs. (This is the last time the word ‘orbs’ appears, I promise) Draco, meanwhile, tore off his bad boy cloak and became heavily enchanted by Hermione’s flowing hair. They both tossed their wands aside and ran towards each other in dramatic slow motion. Finally, they leaped into each other’s arms and enjoyed the most epic snog in the history of snogging. Everybody who witnessed it applauded, including all the football hooligans and even Ron.
Inspired by their example, the hooligans tossed aside their weapons and accepted the futility of violence. Bart walked up to Tommy and the two leaders shared a handshake that soon turned into a bro hug.
“I don’t know if this moment can get any better,” Draco swooned.
“Actually, it can,” said Hermione with a grin. With a flick of her wand, the Michael Jackson statue came to life and began to serenade them.
“Wow, Hermione Billie Jean Granger, you really don’t stop ‘til you get enough, this is such a thriller, I could never beat it!” Draco exclaimed. (He just named four Michael Jackson songs in case you missed it.)
Everybody who was gathered outside the stadium happily celebrated the one force powerful enough to turn an epic battle into an epic dance party; the power of love.
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