Author's Note: Jello! Okay, I just wanna say thank you LeeLee for giving me the idea for this (whether you knew it or not). I hope you like! I wrote this after an interesting drawing was drawn in chronicles history. It was a smiley face of Hermione, with a HUGE afro. Not just huge, engulfing the top corner of my paper. We even drew in Hitler and our history teacher (don't ask, it was something to do with WW2).

Disclaimer: I don't own HP, wish I did though, 'cuz then I would have money! And sorry if this is offensive to anyone (don't know why it would be).

Hermione stares into the shadows before her. She knew this was a dream. It had to be.

A dark figure slid toward her in the darkness on none other than...a tennis racket. Yes a tennis racket, one painted the color of a great green pickle.

Hermione gasped. Her lunchbox fell to the ground, springing open and sending her salami and buttered weasel smoothie everywhere. It was her favorite smoothie, and seeing the wasted weasel made her angry. So angry her afro started to expand.

Voldemort stood from the racket, towering over Hermione with great ease...well, he was taller than her, at least.

"You can't beat me, little squirrel," he snarled snarlingly. Hermione shakes her head, the fro still growing, bigger and bigger. Soon the mass engulfs the dark wizard, strangling him. He hacks...at a tree standing in the corner of the room. Then he hacks, choking on a hairball. A short, rough "meow" escapes him, running away from the horrible sight, and he falls to floor, hacking.

"I will win Voldymoldy!" Hermione growls growlingly, her umbrella flying away in fright of the growl. She laughs evilly, the static from her hair causing a lightning storm to develop in the background, adding a wonderfully frightening effect to her evil laugh.

Hermione springs awake, her trampolene flying from beneath her.

"I will never eat another of Ron's experimental creamed corn again...."