A.N-hey, first fanfic to publish myself! It's set near the beginning of the 3rd book. It is inspired by a joke that occupied the whole of one of my group of friends' lunchtimes. I'll put it at the end. Don't read it now, it'll spoil the humour aspect of this story. So, happy reading (fingers crossed!).

Disclaimer- I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or any other wizard related things JK Rowling invented. If I had written it, I'd have given up after the second page (short attention span people, not boredom!)

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"AAARRRGGGHHH!"

Harry spun round in reaction to the noise. He was just in time to see Ron, flying at him. His quick reflexes, honed in Quiditch practise, let him jump back in time to avoid being ploughed down. Ron, with his eyes clamped closed shot through Professor Binns and into Professor McGonagall.

Glancing towards the main staircase, Harry saw the chaos of Ron's unusual entrance. Some Ravenclaw first years were huddled next to an enchanted picture of a scantily-clad film star, cut out of a Muggle newspaper that Lee Jordan had been modifying the previous evening. The boys had been gazing at it a few minutes earlier when Harry had passed them, but now they were staring horrified at the scene at the bottom of the staircase.

Ron had crashed into Professor McGonagall hard enough so that she had been knocked over into the path of Peeves latest obsession-buckets full of icy water set to tip over if anyone walked underneath them.

Drenched with water, Professor McGonagall pointed her wand at Ron who was still speeding around the Entrance Hall, a look of terror on his face.

"Finite Incantatem!" Her voice and manner were as calm and straightforward as normal, but her eyes flashed with anger. Ron hit the floor with a thump. Firstly, he looked confused at the sudden stillness of the world, but his expression quickly changed to one of resigned horror as the Transfigeration teacher walked towards him. Gulping, he shakily stood, swaying a little like he had just stepped off a boat.

"Mr Weasley, would you be so kind as to explain yourself?"

"Well, I, em, er…"

"More specifically, could you please enlighten me as to why walking or even broom is no longer an acceptable form of transport for you? Or is there some other reason that a long-lasting levitation charm had been put on you?"

From the corner of his eye Harry noticed two streaks of red that told him exactly what other reason had made Ron do a fairly decent impression of a crash landing aeroplane. The only thing that made Fred and George move as fast as pancakes on Fridays was to avoid detection, and seeing as it was only Monday, Harry could make a reasonable guess as to who Ron's ranting would be directed at.

He wasn't the only one to see them. "Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley, I think you could be useful in solving this. A moment of your time." The self-appointed trouble-makers-in-chief of Hogwarts slowly turned and trudged over towards their younger brother and the head-of-house. Their faces showed that they were guilty as charged.

Sensing that this could take some time Harry went into the Great Hall to get breakfast. The ceiling today was dark with clouds, like it had been for the past week. Not an encouraging sight when he would be spending a lesson outside in Care of Magical Creatures. In their last lesson they had discovered that hippogriffs hate rain.

It was five minutes before Ron entered the hall. During that time Harry had been showered with droplets of rain from the owls, cornered by Wood about practise, Colin Creevey about his latest photographs and Hermione on how he needed to start the essay they had been set for that Thursday.

"It isn't a matter of whether you can do it or not, I know you can handle Charms reasonably well, it's more about if Wood decides to hold another of his ridiculous practises. The ones he decides on at lunch. Last week you nearly fell asleep in potions, you had to stay up so late to finish homework after them."

Really, Harry thought, only Hermione was able to make a point he would rather not have thought of quite so effectively. He was just trying to decide how to tell Hermione that Wood had just told him that there was now a practise scheduled for an hour after lessons ended when a disgruntled Ron yanked the spare seat next to Harry back and angrily sat down.

"Why do I have Fred and George for older brothers?" Ron was doing nothing calmly. When he put the cereal box down he slammed it so hard a handful of pieces came flying out over the sides. "Bill, Charley, Percy, they all have it easy compared to me. They've pretty much always been able to magic themselves out of it. Even at home before they were allowed to use magic outside Hogwarts they could at least punch 'em. They leave Ginny alone too, most of the time. But me, I get oh, fantastic!"

While trying to illustrate his point Ron had been waving his hands in front of him. They had just collided with a jug of Pumpkin Juice. Hermione had taken out her wand, used to Ron's outbursts, and muttered a spell that tipped the jug in the opposite direction, before any juice was spilled.

Ron's outrage had calmed to embarrassment. "Erm, thanks Hermione."

"Maybe rather than saying thanks, you could get your Charms essay done tonight too. Seeing as I'll end up helping you whenever you do it." Ron looked flawed. She had the two of them cornered.

Trying to prevent the rant before Hermione got into full flow Harry tried changing the topic. "What happened to Fred and George anyway? I thought you were finished until Professor McGonagall spotted them."

"Detention tonight. And ten points from Gryffindor each. Then she saw Lee Jordan's poster, so now they have the blame for that too. If Wood tries to get you to do any practises today he is screwed. Hasn't he been getting them to hit Bludgers at the rest of you?" Ron said all this around spoonfuls of cereal. The fate of his brothers and often tormentors was not going to get in the way of his stomach.

Harry was pleased to hear this and grinned around his toast. Wood was obsessed with the Cup, but surely not enough that the combination of rain, wind and no Beaters would make him hold a practise. It was also made worse for him with Professor Trelawney's predictions of his death. Immediate doom seemed a lot more likely when he could barely see through his glasses.

Ron was suddenly looking at his cereal bowl with interest. "Hey, Harry, I think I'm getting the hang of this tea leaf business. Does it still count if it's a different kind of food?"

"What are you talking about Ron?" Hermione asked. "I thought we had all agreed that Divination is nothing but time to flatter Professor Trelawney's oversized ego."

Divination, Ron and Harry had decided in private, had done Hermione some good. She had never before criticised a teacher's skill before. In fact, the only time she had ever said anything against one of the staff was when they thought Snape was trying to kill Harry. Her inability to grasp Divination had made her scornful of anything connected with the subject.

Ron was still staring at his breakfast. "My breakfast has sent me a message. Here Harry, you look. It's safe, not about your nearly-deadness."

"For once." Harry looked at the bowl's contents and saw what Ron meant. Quite successfully keeping a straight face he said "I see what you mean. "Oooooo" Maybe you're getting a letter that got side tracked in the weather."

"I like that one. A nice, normal prediction." Ron was getting into interpreting the meaning of his message. "A prediction's never good though. Lesson one: someone has to come out worse. Maybe Parvati and Lavender are gonna start singing again. Next time we're in Herbology I'm gonna ask Professor Sprout what she gave us for the mandrakes last year. Parvati and Lavender are only a bit louder than they were."

"I know. It's Fred and George's OWL results. This is telling us they'll actually do some work." The two of them burst out into hysterics. "Or maybe it definitely won't be that." Harry got the words out between not falling off his seat and not being pushed of it by Ron.

An exasperated Hermione picked up the bowl. "Let me have a look at this prediction," she demanded. For several seconds she looked like Ron had just announced he had done his potions homework without prompting. Then she joined in the laughing, although not as madly as Harry and Ron. Her expression had just sent them into another bout of sniggers.

Putting the bowl back in front of Ron she said "You do know Cheerios have no magical properties whatsoever, don't you?" He nodded and immediately resumed eating with gusto. "If only Divination was that reliable. Rather than looking for ducks or trees or what ever shape she decides on in teacups."

We could spend all lesson looking for lessons in alphabet soup" Harry agreed.

Once they had finished eating they stood to go to Divination. Or Harry and Hermione stood. Ron was looking thoughtfully at the half-finished box of Cheerios. "Do you think they'll miss one box?" he said, half to himself. Without waiting for an answer he shrugged and grabbed the package and stood. As they walked out, there was a brief clap of thunder overhead, and the sound of Peeves resetting his traps ahead of them. They made a mental note to walk around the sides of the Entrance Hall.

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Ok anyone still with us, here's the joke:

Ron: Harry, my food's sending me a message.

Harry: What's it say?

Ron: Oooooooo.

Harry looks at Ron's food.

Ron, you're eating spaghetti hoops.

I had to make minor adjustments, but I think this is the most elaborate set up for a joke, most likely in the history of time.

Chapter two is not based on a joke, just the random musings of some hyper 14 year old girls inspired by above joke.