Harry met Hermione in her room at Number 12. "Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry."

"May I borrow a bit of your mascara?"

"Mascara?"

"Yes. Mascara. I forgot to pick some up while shopping yesterday."

Yesterday was unusual even for Harry Potter. After visiting Diagon Alley, he insisted on visiting several muggle shops, including a hardware store. He was very secretive about it, and wouldn't have gotten away with it at all if not for the insistence of his godfather,
Sirius Black.

"Do you need any help, Harry?"

"No. Just mascara."

"Alright then." She retrieved the item from her makeup case, and gave it to Harry.

Harry locked himself in his room, and didn't come out until several hours later, while the Order was sequestered in the kitchen. The Order of the Phoenix was interrupted by very loud music. Muggle music. Muggle classical music. By Beethoven. His Ninth Symphony, playing from a magically enhanced record player. The portrait of Mrs. Black started screaming about mudbloods and blood traitors. Hermione, Ginny, and the Weasley boys ran from their rooms to the top of the stairs.
Dumbledore, Molly Weasley, and Sirius Black entered the front hall from the kitchen.

Harry looked towards them and said, "Hullo, me droogs! Fancy a bit of the old ultraviolence?" Harry Potter was wearing a black bowler hat, and Doc Martin boots. Other than that, he was dressed entirely in white. He wore long undergarments, top and bottom, with suspenders. He was also wearing an impressive codpiece. His look was topped off by fake eyelashes, Hermione's mascara, and black tear drop under one of his eyes.

Snape stuck his head out of the kitchen and started to say, "Potter, you imbecile, do you have to be the center of attention?" But Snape's words went unheard after an unearthly racket filled the entire manor.

It was a chainsaw. Harry let down on the throttle. Mrs. Black was still yelling.

"Shut up you weathered down old bitch!" Harry yelled. Taking the chainsaw to full throttle, Harry plunged the chainsaw into Mrs. Black's painting. He made short work of it, cutting up the portrait into several pieces before cutting through the wall around it. Finally, he stopped the chainsaw, put it down, and used a rather large mallet to pound the remnants of the portrait and much of the surrounding wall into the kitchen. There was debris and dust everywhere, and not to mention all of the broken Black china. Silence reigned, except for the soothing sounds of the beloved Ludwig Van.

Hermione stood in shock. Then she smiled. She always had an appreciation for classical music. She came down the stairs, took Harry by the hand, and led him up to her room, saying only, "Come along, Alex."

Mrs. Weasley's yelling lasted hours into the night. Harry didn't care. He achieved what all of the might and magic of the collected adults couldn't. And he was locked in Hermione's room, behind silencing charms. Dumbledore was aghast, and even began to contemplate aversion therapy.

The next morning, Kreature hung himself.

...

I can't imagine anyone not knowing that this is about "A Clockwork Orange", but there you have it, boychiks.

David Brown