Author's Note: I should mention here that I actually enjoy Deathly Hallows. Despite all its failures of sanity and logic, it introduced many fascinating characters and concepts.

If anyone's wondering how I'd treat a book I hated, if this is what I do to one I like, it's simple: unless I find a particularly egregious excerpt while reading fan fiction, OOTP is unlikely to show up here, because I wouldn't give it the time of day even to mock it.

Heavy DH!Harry bashing from a character who, in fairness, needs no authorial assistance to do so.

Choking and retching, soaking and colder than he had ever been in his life, he came to facedown in the snow. Somewhere close by, another person was panting and coughing and staggering around. Hermione had come again, as she had come when the snake attacked... Yet it did not sound like her, not with those deep coughs, not judging by the weight of the footsteps...

"Potter, you are quite simply the stupidest student I have ever had."

Harry's senses came screaming to full alert - but he found he could not move. Nor could he do so much as call for help; his voice had left him.

A hand seized him and hauled him to his feet. "I cannot believe," Snape said without preamble, "that you would leave your wand in the snow and a Dark artifact around your neck. Or discard your wand at all - what were you doing, waving it around like an idiot, as though you could see any potential ambushers? Even you know the Disillusionment Charm, Potter. And I know you yourself possess an Invisibility Cloak.

"Or perhaps you hit your head and think you're a Muggle, because you didn't bother with even a perfunctory Warming Charm. Or with having Granger do it for you - yes, I know she's traveling with you, because the foolish girl seems to have forgotten portraits can hear as well as see. Is your stupidity not congenital, then, Potter? Have I been unnecessarily cruel to the carrier of a contagious illness?

"Speaking of Granger, why did you not bring her with you? Or at least go back for her? So that you and she could be butchered separately, in case of an ambush? Or so you could end the brainless agony of your existence, without her intervening to save you from the freezing waters of the pond? Do you truly think bravery and the least amount of forethought are incompatible? If so, that explains much about your entire, wretched, imbecilic, utterly hopeless House. Do you have even the faintest idea how much effort I have had to expend to keep your friends from martyring themselves? Longbottom alone seems hellbent on provoking the Carrows until they send him to join his parents!"

A swell of hope rose in Harry's heart: Neville was still resisting? But Snape's rant continued.

"But of course, you are witless enough to follow a random Patronus away from your camp. Why? Do you actually believe the senseless rumor that Death Eaters cannot cast the Patronus Charm? I assure you, they can. The Dark Lord's is a quite impressive basilisk, in fact - but I digress. I cannot believe you did that. I was merely attempting to search out your location, and feared, briefly, that I might have frightened you off - never did I expect you to run after it, crying 'No! My love! Come back to me, darling!'" Snape sneered, pitching his voice into a quavering falsetto.

Harry seethed in enforced silence at the undeserved elaboration.

"Of course, even ignoring all this, you could have retrieved the Sword by other means," Snape resumed in his normal voice. "I am no pious Gryffindor, regardless of who thinks I might have readily been Sorted there." Had he been able to move, Harry would have given a start: what sort of lunatic would think Snape could have ever polluted Gryffindor? "It's not overly heavy. You could have maneuvered a makeshift wrapping, such as the clothes you so readily discarded, around it, and brought those up from beneath the water. I'm given to understand you don't need to wield it in battle, merely use certain of the properties of its blade, so that should have been enough. But, of course, that would be expecting too much intelligence from you, Potter.

"I would sincerely like to know, Potter: why are you so witless? Were you dropped on your head at birth? Did that Bludger last year scramble what little brains you had left? Did your wits atrophy from Granger doing your schoolwork for six years straight? Did Lily drink when she was pregnant? So many questions. But I'm afraid I'll never have them answered, because I can't let you reveal to the Dark Lord that I bothered to save your witless hide from an arguably-merited death by hypothermia, strangulation, drowning, or some fascinating cocktail of all of the above."

Harry steeled himself for the flash of green light, but it never came. "Oh, also," Snape said casually, "I found another idiot stumbling about in the woods while I was looking for you. He'll provide a convenient cover story - and, of course, the best part is that he'll wholly believe it. As will you. Obliviate."

...

Harry blinked, wondering how he had found the strength to get to his feet. But he was soon distracted by a more important matter.

There before him stood Ron, fully dressed but drenched to the skin, his hair plastered to his face, the sword of Gryffindor in one hand and the Horcrux dangling from its broken chain in the other...