Nigel? Nigel? Who The Heck Is Nigel?

"Harder, Neville, harder!" grunted Ron. "Put some effort into it!"

"I'm doing the best I can!" cried Neville with great exasperation. "I think it's stuck."

"Well, let me move to the side a little," said Harry. "Right, I've got a better grip now."

"One, two, three ...heave!" exclaimed Ron. With one great effort, the three boys pulled up on the lid of Ron's trunk. Finally it opened with a strained creak. They had been trying to open it for the best part of five minutes. Any longer and they would have given up. Young men their age tend to have very little patience.

"Thanks guys, I thought I'd never get this bloody thing open," said Ron.

"Just why was it so hard to open anyway?" asked Neville. "Have you and Hermione had another argument about your poorly concealed feelings for each other, causing her to seal your trunk magically in a petty act of retaliation?"

"No, I just haven't opened it in a long time and the bloody hinges are rusted. Hermione and I haven't argued in about four weeks," said Ron casually.

"There's one due any day now then," said Harry quietly. While Harry went back to his essay for the Greasy Bastard and Neville returned to his dirty magazine, Ron began rummaging through his trunk. It had been so long since he last opened it that the spiders living inside had already paid off their mortgage. He pushed aside the old comics, bits of parchment and blackmail letters that lay on the top and began rummaging around underneath them.

"Just what are you looking for anyway?" asked Harry.

"I've got a hot date tonight ..."

"With Hermione?" ventured Neville. Ron gave him a scowl and a one-finger salute.

"As I was saying, I've got a hot date tonight and I'm looking for a condom I found when I was seven. It's got to be in here somewhere." Harry looked up at Ron incredulously.

"You found a condom when you were seven and kept it?"

"I thought it was a balloon at the time. Some time later Fred and George explained what it was and what it was for," said Ron sheepishly.

"How were old were you when they told you?"

"Seven and a half."

"Oh." Ron quickly returned to his trunk. After moving aside a bit more of his crap, Ron came across something that surprised him.

"Bugger me!" he exclaimed.

"Maybe later," said Neville casually. Ron reached into his trunk and pulled out his old dress robes, the ones that a pantomime dame wouldn't be caught dead in.

"I thought I got rid of these ages ago," Ron muttered in disgust, as he looked the vile garment over. They smelled a great deal like teenage sweat.

"That's the one you wore to the Yule Ball, isn't it?" asked Neville.

"Yep, this is it."

"Sweet Merlin, that is an eyesore. I remember the look on your face when you opened that parcel in front of everyone in the Great Hall. Priceless!" said Neville, a cheeky grin spreading across his oddly attractive face.

"He didn't get them in the Great Hall, he had them before we arrived at school. His mum gave them to him herself," stated Harry.

"But I remember him opening the parcel. I was there and so were you," said Neville resolutely.

"Well, I was there when he got them at the Burrow. You remember, don't you, Ron?" asked Harry.

"To be honest, Harry, after McLaggen hit me in the head with that Bludger my memory hasn't been all that great."

"McLaggen didn't hit you in the head with the Bludger, he hit me!" exclaimed Harry.

"See what I mean?" asked Ron. He turned the robes round to get a good look at them.

"Well, I can remember him opening the parcel in the Great Hall," said Dean.

"Not me, I'm pretty sure he already had them when he got to school that year," said Seamus. Harry, Ron and Neville glanced around the dormitory.

"Dean? Seamus? Where are you guys?"

"Here," said the duvet of Dean's bed.

"What are you guys doing under there?" asked Ron.

"Enjoying ourselves," said the duvet in Seamus' voice.

"Anyway, the point is, I remember that Nigel kiddie bringing them to you," stated Neville.

"Who?" asked Harry disbelievingly.

"Oh Nigel? He's my little errand boy," said Ron.

"You didn't just say what I thought you said, did you?" asked Dean.

"No, I said 'he's my little errand boy'."

"Oh, that's OK then," mumbled the duvet.

"Since when have you had an errand boy?" asked Harry, beginning to think that everyone in the room was mad except for Seamus and himself.

"Nigel does loads for me. Has done for ages. Collects my laundry, brings me parcels, makes my decaf latté just the way I like it, all kinds of things," explained Ron.

"But I remember you getting those robes at the Burrow! You said you'd rather go naked than wear them!" said Harry, getting a little flustered now.

"I can't say I blame you. They're positively atrocious," said Seamus.

"Nigel did bring you the parcel with the robes in, because I remember you promised him you'd get him Harry's autograph," said Neville suddenly. "Did you ever get Harry's autograph for him?"

"Did I buggery!" laughed Ron.

"I still don't know who the hell you're talking about! Nigel? Nigel? Who the fuck is Nigel?" yelled Harry.

"Please, Harry, language," said the duvet sternly. Ron finally put his dress robes down and went to sit by his thoroughly confused best friend.

"You've seen Nigel around loads of times. He pops up everywhere."

"Surely you remember him, Harry?" ventured Neville. "Little ginger kiddie, lots of freckles."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Ron indignantly. "Are you trying to say my dad has been unfaithful? That's ridiculous! My dad is devoted to my mother! Well, OK, he's more scared of her than he is devoted to her but that's all the more reason for him to be faithful!" Finally Harry had had enough.

"Look, this is getting ridiculous. I'm going to go find Hermione and find out how you really got those bloody robes. She's bound to remember." Still arguing, Harry and Neville walked out the dormitory door, followed closely by Ron. Seamus and Dean finally emerged from under the duvet. Both boys were a little sweaty.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" enquired Seamus.

"Oh yes. We shall have to play Tiddlywinks under the covers more often," said Dean.

~|~

Later that evening, two shifty, mysterious hooded figures could be seen lurking in an alleyway in Hogsmeade. Well, they couldn't actually be seen, because it was dark and they were taking extra care not to be seen, that's why they're shifty and mysterious and hooded. One of the figures, considerably taller than the other, stepped forwards and lowered his hood.

"It is done then?" whispered Lord Voldemort to the shorter figure.

"Oh yes. Potter and his friends have all been successfully Confunded. They're in a real muddle, each of them remembers different things," said the short hooded figure, his voice small and cold.

"Our plan is nearly complete then. Perhaps if we were to accelerate our plans somewhat ..."

"No!" snapped the shorter figure sharply. "Move too quickly and all will be ruined. Don't forget who is in charge now, Tommy boy!"

"Yes ...forgive me master," said Voldemort timidly. He quickly fell to his knees and knelt before his superior.

"You've been a great help, and you shall finish off Potter yourself, just as said, but the Weasley boy is mine. He failed to give me that which he promised." The diminutive figure (sounds better than 'the shorter figure, doesn't it?) lowered his hood. Slim rays of moonlight fell upon his freckles. "Soon Ron Weasley will pay, and then the whole world will tremble at the name of ...Nigel ..."