Harry Potter and the Chain Letter From Hell!

HARRY POTTER AND THE CHAIN LETTER FROM HELL

Harry opened one eye and looked around, before heaving a great sigh of relief. He was, in fact, in bed, in his dorm, at his school, Hogwarts. He was not, as he had been lead to believe, in a large vat of what appeared to be brill cream, with some form of crazy toad, Malfoy, Snape and Dudley.

"Accursed dreams," he muttered whilst shaking his fist in a 'why you...' sort of manner, otherwise described as angrily. It had been the worst dream ever, except for the crazy toad, it had been cool... but he couldn't remember why. He sat up and groped for his glasses. Slipping them on, he yawned before pulling the drapes aside and placing his feet on the floor. He immediately retracted them when he realised the floor had been turned into an ice skating rink without his knowledge. Loud snores emanated from Ron's bed. The pictures rattled on the walls and a glass was shaken off Harry's bedside table and it shattered as it hit the floor. Harry sighed again and grabbed his wand from the bedside table.

"Reparo," he said as he waved his wand vaguely in the direction of the broken glass. The repaired glass was then summoned to him and he placed it back in its original spot, which was conveniently marked by a water ring. 'Ron's snoring was getting ridiculous,' he noted mentally, as he peered under his bed looking for some form of slippers. He found lint. His eye twitched as he pulled himself up and rummaged in his sock drawer. He selected a particularly thick, brown, woollen pair and slipped them on. Harry wandered to the bathroom; he emerged a few minutes later, fully relieved. Harry praised whatever gods there were for the fact that it was the weekend, so he dressed in his casual clothes (a blue sweater and black jeans). It was eleven thirty a.m., very early to be up on a Saturday morning, Harry observed that the older that you got, the longer you wanted to lie in bed and do, well let's face it, fuck all. He figured, since he was up, he may as well get some breakfast.

As he entered the great hall he noticed that it was, surprisingly enough, devoid of seventh year, and in Harry's opinion, therefore, human life. There were first years everywhere doing God knows what. There were second years, who were so obviously planning the demise of the first years that Harry expected them to all burst into peals of manic, evil laughter. He chuckled to himself. There were smatterings of others, but definitely no seventh years. For possibly the millionth time in the twenty minutes he'd been awake, he sighed.

"EEP!" he squeaked as a hand was laid upon his shoulder. He jumped a foot in the air. He turned around to give the owner of said hand a potent death glare and possibly a small curse, but settled for a cluck of his tongue and a shake of his head when the owner of the aforementioned hand turned out to be Hermione.

"You scared me, Herm," he said as he yawned. She chuckled lightly.

"Well done for pointing out the obvious."

"Breakfast?"

"Love some."

And with that short exchange over, they sat down at the Gryffindor table and munched on cold, stale toast.

"This was worth getting up for," Harry said as he banged his toast on the table's edge and then frisbeed it across the room. It hit an unsuspecting Hufflepuff first year in the head and said first year went down. Harry and Hermione cringed and turned the other way. Hermione voiced her agreement and pointed out the usefulness of this toast as some form of building material. Harry sniggered.

"So how's being Head Girl working out for you?" Harry asked her as he began to stack the remaining toast jenga style. Hermione sighed.

"It's all good. The only blemish on my otherwise blemish-free landscape is the fact that Malfoy is Head Boy, and I have to share a common room with someone who is obviously planning my painfully slow termination."

"Who would have thought he had any brains... I mean, have you seen his choice of hairstyle?" she said, pondering the wonders of Malfoy-style slicked-back blondness. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"He must be a bottle-blond..." Hermione thought out loud. Harry raised his other eyebrow.

"Erm... yeah... so, shall we go and rudely awaken Ron with this exceptionally dangerous toast?" Harry suggested. He did not want to discuss the finer points of Malfoy's hair at noon on a Saturday.

"Is he still snoring?" Hermione asked as they made their way to the Gryffindor common room.

"I don't think snoring covers it anymore," Harry said dryly as they approached the portrait of the fat lady.

"Schnitzel," Harry said. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Bless you," the painting replied as the portrait swung wide revealing the common room.

"Don't ask me why," Harry said, as he saw Hermione opening her mouth to comment on the interesting choice of password. She shut her mouth and grinned. As they began their ascent of the stairs a loud rumble shook the frame. They clung on for dear life till the rumbling stopped.

"You've got to be shitting me!" Hermione exclaimed. Harry shook his head sombrely.

"Harry you fucking moron," Hermione roared over the next snore, "he's obviously had some sort of charm put over him, that isn't normal!"

Harry's face went blank as he contemplated this. He then made a noise of comprehension and grinned at Hermione who just glowered. They managed to scramble onto the landing and stand up when another snore rocked the ground and Hermione went flying into the door as Harry fell backwards onto his arse. Harry stood up as he watched Hermione slide down the door and crumple on the floor.

"Ow..." She groaned as Harry hoisted her up. They entered the bedroom tentatively and advanced a few steps. A shuddering snore threw them back against the wall with great force.

"Harry cover his face with a pillow," Hermione instructed. Harry grabbed a nearby pillow and leapt on top of Ron. He placed the pillow over the red head's face and gave Hermione a thumbs up sign. Hermione moved forward and got out her wand.

"Reverso," she said with a flick of her wrist. Harry removed the pillow, and they both waited for a reaction. Ron snored again, and Harry threw his arms over his face in defence. He was not, however, transported across the room with a force reminiscent of being charged by a rhino. He parted his arms and looked at Hermione. She merely grinned. Harry shrugged and pulled two pieces of toast out of his jeans pockets. He then gave Hermione a barbaric grin and pelted them simultaneously at Ron's head. Ron jolted awake with a start, a yell, and an exclamation of, "No more goat's soup!"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look before returning their attention to Ron. Ron looked a little hacked off as he looked at his two best friends one of whom was sitting astride him.

"Do you always do this when I'm asleep?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and a yawn.

"Sometimes, not a lot," Harry retorted with a grin. Ron sniggered.

"Would you mind getting off me?" he asked, "I'm dying for a piss." Harry got off and Ron trotted to the bathroom.

"Boys," Hermione stated.

"Why'd you say that?" Harry asked as he perched on the edge of the bed.

"I hadn't said anything in a while, and I'm usually derisive and snooty, so I thought I should comment," she answered simply with a shrug. Harry accepted this comment as an early morning thing, even though it was twelve thirty in the afternoon. Ron returned moments later.

"Twelve thirty!" he wailed, "So early!"

Hermione huffed, "Did you know someone had put a charm on you Ron?"

Harry looked at her funny. "He was asleep Hermione," he pointed out. Hermione coughed and looked around at the walls.

"What charm?" Ron asked as he took off his pants. Hermione squeaked and spun around to face the wall.

"Oops, sorry Herm," Ron said going pink around the ears. He hurriedly found a pair of pants and a top to wear.

"It's alright now Hermione, the scary underwear has gone," Harry mocked. Hermione turned around and glared at him, but there was still a flush of pink on her cheeks.

"What charm?" Ron asked again.

"It was some sort of sonorous charm," Hermione said, glancing at him, "except that it had power behind it."

"Meaning...?" Ron asked, looking between his friends.

"Meaning that when you snored, you were knocking things over and basically shaking stuff up," Harry pointed out.

"Like an earthquake," Hermione pointed out.

"Or a fuck-off dinosaur," Harry said excitedly.

"Or a large land mammal!"

"Or a..."

"I get it!" Ron yelled above their voices.

"Who though?" Ron wondered. They all went quiet for a moment.

"What the fuck were you chucking at my head anyway?" asked Ron, rubbing a rapidly forming lump on his forehead. Harry smiled broadly and brought a piece of toast out from another pocket.

"Destructo-toast!" Harry yelled. Ron took it from him and smacked it on the bedside table. A small chunk of bedside table fell off. Ron's eyes lit up.

"Let's go and chuck some at Malfoy!" At this statement Harry's eyes went shiny and misted over. They both turned to Hermione who had been unconcernedly checking her nails. She looked up.

"What?"

It then dawned on her what they wanted her to do.

"Oh no," she said as they backed her up against a wall, "I won't do it."

"Oh come on Herm, take that stick out of your arse and live a little!" Ron exclaimed. Hermione looked indignant. Her expression softened a little as both Harry and Ron looked at her with pleading expressions. Her resolve dissolved in the face of their puppy dog eyes as she looked from one to the other and laughed.

"All right! Just stop looking at me like you're an injured puppy or something!"

Ron and Harry cheered and high-fived, then they pulled her away, out of Gryffindor tower.