The rest...

Later that night, when pretty much everyone had completely forgotten about Lavender and didn't even realize she was still missing, a small group of Gryffindors headed to the kitchen for some late night snacking.

In front of them hovered an unfamiliar female ghost, wearing a flowery dress in bright reds and blues, a hat with fruit on it, and pointy shoes the author recognized as her own. Looking closely at the ghost's bizarre face, which was silvery gray with garish makeup on it, the decided it looked very much like...

"Peeves?" they all shouted in disbelief. Despite how... strangely attractive... he looked in the dress, he also looked quite miserable.

"Can't take it off," he whined. "Can't find my bow tie. Can't surprise Mrs. Norris. She sprayed me with perfume!"

"Who sprayed you?" Ron asked. "Who did this to you?"

"That would be me," Lavender appeared from around a corner. "You told me to go with my strengths."

"And your strengths are to torture ghosts?"

"NO! My strength is the makeover. It isn't my fault he wouldn't cooperate. Besides, the sticking charm will wear off in a day, and the perfume will wear off... eventually. Come on, admit it. He looks good!"

No one was willing to admit anything, although Peeves was quite pretty now. "Erm... well... um... maybe the author..."

"Those are MY shoes!" the author screeched.

Lavender looked around for a chicken to abuse. "I just... I just want to be in a fic." She began to cry, and Harry, being the unfortunate one standing next to her, patted her awkwardly on the back.

She grabbed the front of his shirt. "Harry... do you find me bootylicious?"

"Um... I find you crazy. Have you been drinking?"

"Do you mean crazy in the charming and fan fictionable way?"

"Actually, I mean crazy in the slightly scary way." He pried her fingers off his shirt.

"Would you consider kissing lessons?"

"Would you consider therapy?"

Lavender groaned and threw herself into the wall... no chickens in sight.

"What she doesn't get," Hermione said, "was that this entire fic was actually all about her. So she was successful. Unconscious, but successful."

The author smiled. "It's good to be evil."