The Great Hall

Note. In this story, Pansy Parkinson will be played by Genevieve Gaunt. NOT Scarlett Byrne.

The Great Hall was full of bustle and jostle as the residents of the Castle gathered to start their day with breakfast, gossip, and Owl Posts. And as usual, some heads turned away(some towards) Hermione Granger as she entered the Great Hall. Her distinct sour odor was a clear sign she was entering a room. Harry could see a bunch of Slytherines(not surprisingly, Drako was among them) snickering at each other as they comically held their noses as they (not so) subtly pointed at Hermione.

Harry tutted over how the Slytherins would always be the wet blanket in every situation.
He thought of turning the Slytherins with his new powers for a second before judging against it. It wouldn't be Hogwarts without the Slytherins being a sourpuss to everybody: Japes here, pranks there, it was almost like looking at a trampish mutt in your alleyway whom one grew fond of.

Harry glimpsed at Pansy Parkinson, whispering something to the Greengrass sisters, who tried to stifle a snicker.
He could see Draco saying something to his thuggish underlings, Crabbe and Goyle, making them laugh. Probably something about Mudbloods.

Being pompous and stuck was one thing, but being mean and evil was another.

'It wouldn't hurt to turn those stuck-up knobs into closet perverts...'

Harry and Hermione took their usual spots at the Gryffindor table. Ron and Ginny were running late as their seats were empty. Hermione took a bite of her toast as Harry settled beside her. He shuddered as he took another whiff of her salty, sour odor. It was more intense as he was sitting next to her. But not enough to his liking. It didn't come with the warm and damp humidity he felt after a Quidditch practice. It felt caked and sour. Maybe he needed Hermione to start exercising around the School grounds before breakfast. Plus, while he was into slobby Hermione, heavens forbid if she got fat. Chubby? Maybe. But fat? That was another whole thing he did not care about. Speaking of which...

"Hermione, could you stop getting mustard on my sleeves? I don't care you like being a sloppy eater, but I don't like getting my fresh clothes ruined by your condiments."

Hemione, who had been spreading margarine on her toast seconds ago, was holding a fat American BLT sandwich in both hands. Mayo, honey, and mustard were all over her front and her face. Not to mention dripping down her hands.

This new Hermione was a sloppy, dirty eater who got her sauces all over her. Hermione didn't just like being slobby, she sought ways to dirty herself up more, and this was it. She could act cordially at the table, but most of the time, she didn't care, including her mealtimes with Harry because he didn't care whether she was sloppy.

Harry shivered with excitement at this new Hermione, who apologized hastily before pigging into her sandwich.
Harry could see the Slytherins laughing at Hermione and turned his attention to Hermione.

'Maybe it's time to plant some scandalizing secrets among the Slytherin community...'