Shakespeare's Rolling in his Grave. Probably.

Romeo and Juliet.

I would like to thank all those R=J HP videos on YouTube, and Simplified Shakespeare for the second story. Thanks for reading!

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"Give me the book, Malfoy!" Hermione yelled, tugging on the book.

"Hold on, Granger! It looks interesting." He retorted.

She snorted. "It's a Muggle Romance, about two Muggles who die, and its written by a Muggle. How could you possibly care about Romeo and Juliet?"

He smirked at her. "Like I said, looks interesting. Two Muggles... hm. Friends of yours?"

She glared at him. "Idiot. It's a play. Now give me the bloody book!"

She tugged on the book, but he pulled it back to him easily. "Tut tut, Granger. It seems that you've forgotten that Quidditch players are much stronger than pathetic bookworms." She glared at him, and noticing he was distracted, pulled the book back to her. Unfortunately, he came with it. Much closer than she cared for him to be.

"Isn't this nice, Granger?" He asked, obviously trying to hold back laughter.

"Don't make me hurt you, Malfoy." She growled.

He smirked at her. "I don't think you can, Granger. Sure, once you struck my beautiful face, but you wouldn't dare do it again. I might just have to have you sentenced to death like that hippogriff."

She glared at him. "What you did to Buckbeak-"

He raised an eyebrow. "What I did to him? Granger, did you notice my arm at all?"

"Oh, come on, Malfoy. It wasn't as bad as what you did to him. Nowehere near it. I'm sure that old sling that was only used for a few short weeks agrees." She scoffed, trying to tug the book back without bringing him any closer. "Hermione!' She heard Ron yell.

"Ron! Help me-" Suddenly, Ron attempted to cast a spell. "No, Ron, just get the book-" There was a flash of light, and she felt herself shrink...

When she opened her eyes, she was lying on a bed. She looked around. Pink and blue. Okay, good. A girl's room. She couldn't stand it if a Slytherin (Malfoy!) had taken her back to their common room. She'd never escape alive. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Professor McGonagall came in. "Come, Juliet. It is time to go to the party." But when she said Juliet, her lips said, Hermione. Weird. "Um, Nurse-" She stopped herself. She had just tried to say Professor McGongall!

"Come along, Juliet! There are many eligible young men at the party." Again, the weird thing with the lips. Hermione got up, and followed her downstairs, to a roaring party that looked like the Yule Ball. "Go mingle." Professor McGonagall ordered. Hermione nodded, thinking it was weird, and headed down. She was quickly intercepted by Ron, which confused her. "Paris?" It came out wrong too.

Ron nodded. "Hello, Juliet. Care to dance?" She accepted, and waltzed with him for a few minutes before sitting down. She was soon joined by Malfoy. "Granger, this is all your- hey, I actually said your name!"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Finally. I'm tired of being called Juliet. This is weird beyond measure. And now its happening to you too? What do they call you?"

"Romeo, or Montague. Pott- Capulet keeps glaring at me, by the way. Interesting, it's only us..."

Hermione looked through the crowd, ignoring the last statement, and finally seeing Harry. "I guess he's Tybalt. Anyway, what do you mean they call you Romeo?!" She hissed.

He shrugged. "By the way, I blame you for this."

"Me?! I'm not the one who wouldn't hand over the damn book."

"Yes, you are." He pointed out. "And anyway, what's the big deal? So I'm Romeo. Who cares?"

She grabbed his shirt and pulled him close so that she was right in his face. "I care, Malfoy. I'm Juliet. And I'd rather not marry you, or hear you proclaim your love for me under a balcony or any of the other things Romeo and Juliet happen to do!" She hissed. Then she let him go. "The story already compels us to do things. That's why you're sitting down with me. And in, three, two, one..."

"Montague. What are you doing at our party?!" Harry hissed, striding over.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She wasn't done yelling at Malfoy. "Tybalt, it's fine. Didn't Father tell you to leave him be?"

Harry shook his head. "Juliet, you may not know this because you've never had to consort with his type, thank God, but he is a Montague. Our family's worst enemy. But for the honor of my Uncle, I will leave him be. Tonight."

As he strode away, Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "His type? Consort with? Capulet's finally cracked, I see."

Hermione sighed. "Tybalt means well. But you always aggravate him! When he's a homicidal maniac with anger issues, of course he's going to take it out on you."

Malfoy frowned. "Granger, why can't he take it out on Paris? Why always me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Let's review, shall we? One, Paris is his best friend, in real life at least. And apparently, I'm going to marry him soon. Two, you are a Montague in this story. Natural enemy of the Capulet. Three, He hates you anyway."

Malfoy nodded. "Well, yeah, but... okay, I can't think of a good reason. Let's try and think of a way out of this mess. I'd rather not marry you. Or proclaim my undying love for you underneath your balcony. Is there a way out of this?"

Hermione shook her head. "We're Romeo and Juliet, now. Two star crossed lovers... Malfoy, I have no intention of dying, especially over you. So if it looks like I'm dead, I'm not, okay? Okay?!"

Malfoy nodded. "Why does that matter?"

"Because in the book, Juliet 'commits suicide' after Romeo dies, thinking she's dead, because she took this potion the priest gave her, to avoid marrying Paris because she was already married to Romeo, and she was faking her death, when she's not. And then Romeo comes in, kisses her one last time, and swallows the poison. And then Juliet wakes up and kills herself with Romeo's dagger. And then Montague and Capulet stop fighting."

Malfoy shot her a look. "Us dying is not going to help anything."

Hermione shrugged. "So? I bet Father (whoever he is played by) thought it might be retribution after you killed his nephew and heir, Tybalt."

Malfoy looked at her. "So, in the story, I kill Tybalt."

"Right after we get married."

"Uh huh... yeah, am I insane? Is that what happens when people marry you, Granger?"

She glared at him. "No, idiot. Tybalt kills Mercutio. You didn't want to fight Tybalt, but suddenly, you're just so angry... also, you kill Paris."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "And you're okay with me plowing down your cousin and your intended, aka your best friends?"

Hermione glared at him. "Of course not. But I don't know that Paris dies, and you're banished from Verona because you killed Tybalt, and I cry my eyes out. I can't even be mad at you for killing him because you're gone too."