- [Voiceover] Mr and Mrs Granger of London were proud to say
that they had a witch for a daughter.
Proud, that is, until their daughter, Hermione,
wiped all trace of her existence from their memory.
Hermione was in the midst of a war,
and she was trying to protect her parents
from the force she'd been fighting against for years:
The Patriarchy.
Now, bitches gonna die.
(dramatic music)
Six years earlier, Hermione first boarded
the Hogwarts Express, excited to make friends
and finally be valued for her talents,
rather than teased for being different.
"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. Is that seat taken?"
"I'm Harry, Harry Potter. And, sorry,
this carriage is for boys only".
It was in that moment that Hermione
first learned a valuable skill.
Throwing shade.
"I've read all the rules.
There's no such thing as a boys-only carriage."
"Do you know who that is? That's Harry Potter,
The Boy Who Lived."
It's funny you should say that
because I'm Hermione Granger,
The Girl Who Gave Literally Zero Fucks.
Her bad-ass antics attracted the boys' attention.
"You are fierce and independent.
That scares us. Will you be in our gang please?"
Despite their vaguely offensive ways,
Hermione sensed that Ron and Harry weren't so bad.
Over the course of the year she saved them several times.
Without Hermione, The Boy Who Lived
would have been dead as shit.
Harry and Ron began to thing of Hermione as a sister,
and felt protective toward her.
But she didn't need their protection,
especially when Draco was involved.
"Nice hoodie. It'd look even better on the floor
of the Slytherin dorms."
"What did you say to me?
Go on, say that again."
"It was a compliment, I swear! It was just a compliment!"
"Oh, yeah? Well, so is this!"
(punches) "Ow!"
Twitter wasn't around in those days,
but if it was, she'd have just invented
the BOSSWITCH hashtag.
Fourth year brought with it
Bulgarian bombshell Viktor Krum.
He had asked Hermione to the dance
and the pair looked resplendent.
Ron was more than a little jealous,
and asked Hermione to dance, but she didn't want to.
"Why are you dressed like that
if you don't want attention, eh?"
"Ron, you idiot! How dare you?
How fucking dare you?
I didn't dress like this for Viktor, or for you,
or for anyone, I dressed up for me so I could feel good,
and you ruined it."
Trying to repair the damage,
Harry apologized on Ron's behalf.
"Ron's a nice guy. Not like Draco.
He didn't mean to hurt you."
"That's the problem, Harry.
He didn't think what he was saying was wrong.
And it's not just Ron and Draco I have to worry about."
"Not all witches feel that way though, surely."
"Yes! All witches!
All witches have had to put up
with comments like that and worse."
But that's, that's impossible."
Hermione was furious.
If she couldn't get Harry, her most reasonable, supportive
male friend to understand, then she may as well give up.
But then, the dark wizard Voldemort returned.
"Surprise, bitches!"
And summoned his Death Eaters, including Draco's dad
to update them on their plan.
"We're not oppressing all witches quite yet, my lord.
But soon."
Harry couldn't believe his ears.
He managed to escape, but his world had changed forever.
"It's real! You were right, I'm so sorry! Yes, all witches!"
Hermione forgave Ron, realizing he too,
was a victim of The Patriarchy.
"When you grow up in a culture
that allows wizards to speak to witches that way,
how are you supposed to know that it's wrong?
But do it again and I'll cut you."
The fight against The Patriarchy was beginning in earnest.
After months of wondering around forests,
Hermione took charge.
"Let's go fuck up their shit!"
Sensing this might be her last night on Earth,
Hermione kissed Ron.
She didn't have time to explain
that this was not a binding contract
guaranteeing a future of marriage and children.
Sometimes a kiss was just that.
Draco was still trying to make this all about him.
"Witches get a free ride. it's wizards like me who suffer.
Where's my special treatment?
I deserve a kiss, it's misandry , I tell you!"
"Don't misinterpret your feelings of inadequacy
for the cultural, social, economic,
and political oppression of an entire gender."
Draco didn't listen, so Hermione shut him down
the best way she knew how:
She set that bitch on fire.
Outside, the battle of Hogwarts had begun.
Hermione broke the bad news to Harry.
For the plan to work he'd have to die.
"Harry Potter is dead. Long live The Patriarchy."
But Hermione wasn't done yet.
"Not so fast, cockface."
"The Girl Who Gave Literally Zero Fucks, we meet at last."
"You know, I used to hate you, but now I pity you.
You don't hate witches, you hate yourself.
That's what this is really about."
Harry was alive the whole time.
So much privilege that boy.
Even death gave him a pass.
Hermione had figured out the source
of Voldemort's power, his snake.
She'd given Neville the most important job,
because good leadership is about good delegation.
And he arrived right on schedule,
cutting the head off Voldemort's snake.
Just the tip, really.
With his snake dismembered,
Voldemort crumbled away to nothing
and took his archaic notions of gender roles with him.
"Does this mean The Patriarchy is over?"
"Unfortunately, no.
Their figure head is gone, yes, but the fight will continue.
We need to weed out and destroy sexism in all its forms."
Hermione did just that.
She dedicated her life to wiping out sexism
in both the magic and muggle world.
All was well.