'Ron, please shut up,' said Harry.

'No,' replied Ron quite firmly 'anyway, back to the subject…'

This conversation would have been perfectly acceptable if it wasn't 1 o'clock in the morning. Ron was wide awake and hyper, Harry meanwhile couldn't sleep a wink because Ron was hyper. Neville, Dean and Seamus were sleeping soundly (much to Harry's desire), obviously oblivious to the fact that Ron was talking for 5 hours talking about the Chudley Cannons straight.

'Ron.'

'What?'

'Go to sleep.'

'But I still need to state the different cleaning techniques of the new Chudley Cannon brooms that they're selling in April –

'Ron, Hermione only said that shut you up.'

'Oh.'

'Now, go to sleep.'

You know, two nights after the last day of school last year, I was looking at the stars in bed, then I thought, WHERE THE HELL IS MY CEILING?!?' Apparently, as he said this so loudly that it reached the ears of Neville and Dean would immediately jumped out of bed and said.

'Wassamatter?'

'Where'syouknowwho?'

'Dun kill me, I didn't drop the Dung bombs.'

'I swear, there's no blood in my alcohol stream, gran, I swear.'

This queer conversation went on for quite a while until both Neville and Dean realised that they were not being attacked by Voldemort nor was Filch hanging them from the ankles on the ceiling. Seamus snored and turned over. It was now 3'clock in the morning. And Harry was still awake.

'I'd like to slip into something more comfortable,' muttered Harry 'like a coma.' And he turned to the face the wall. Dean and Neville climbed back into back to bed and the rest of the night passed uneventfully.

Harry awoke at seven o'clock, the other boys were still asleep, he had this groggy feeling that someone annoyed him very much, he untangled himself from his mess of blankets and pillows and turned to Ron's bed, relieved to see red hair sticking from under the blankets. He took out his wand and some of the Weasley twins' fireworks. Just as he was about wreak vengeance on him, Colin Creevey and Dennis Creevey burst into the room jabbering things which sounded a lot like gibberish.

'All right there, Harry!'

'Hi Harry, can I take a picture?'

'Can you sign this photo for me?'

'UMBRIDGE IS GONNA KILL ME!' shouted a very surprised Ron who jumped out of bed still with a blanket wrapped around his head as soon as his ears heard the greetings from the Creevey's. At the result, Dean, Seamus and Neville shot straight up and tumbled out of bed, but they did not shout pointless things, instead they did a Hermione and started preparing for classes. Harry merely raised his eyebrows. So when Colin took a picture, the photo came with three half-dressed boys, a red-head with blankets wrapped around his body and a dumb-faced Harry Potter.

And yet no one else on the Gryffindor tower were disturbed, partly because Hermione had put a Silencing spell on their dorm in secret and partly because everyone was already used to this kind of thing.

By the time they went down to breakfast the tables were quite full, it took another ten minutes to find Hermione whose head was buried in 7 832 BC: The History of Numeracy, they immediately sat down on either side of her and dug into their food.

'Hi Harry, hi Ron, did you have a good sleep?' she said cheerfully (rather too cheerfully) looking up from her book. Harry grumbled.

'Of course I did Hermione, I had a great night, and so did everyone else in our dorm.' Ron replied as cheerfully as Hermione. Harry snorted and stuffed some toast in his mouth.

'Hogsmeade visits today, I heard they built a new winery near the post office,' said Hermione.

'Funny place to put a winery,' replied Harry.

'Why? Planning to go?' said Neville who seemed to have popped in.

'Hell yeah!' Ron half-shouted.

'Ron, no, you already have too much Fire whiskey,' intervened Hermione.

'But Hermione…' Ron whined. Harry tuned out, his eyes drooped, and he put his hands on his head and fell asleep.

He was walking, weaving his way through dark, menacing trees. The sky was black and cloudy, and it seemed to press down on his back like a huge cyst. The ground underfoot was slick and spongy, mud oozed through his shoes. It was cold but humid, and fear lurked in every shadow, but Harry continued walking. Then suddenly a cold, hissing voice spoke out of nowhere.

'I wants it, my precious, yes, stupid fat hobbitses took my precious, go away, ow ow,' Harry looked slightly confused.

'Ah ha, be off you wonderful creature!' another voice said brightly 'Hello dear Harry! I'm Hades, welcome to the Underworld, would you like a drink or tea or anything.'

'Uh…. um…. No thanks,' said Harry hurriedly.

'Ok then, well, we're going to the River Styx, where we will meet your mother and father,' a dark figure appeared, then a light shone on his face, he looked rather like… John Kerry and George Clooney combined.

'My mum? And dad?' questioned Harry.

'Yes, you see they were never buried, doomed to be in River Styx for one hundred years, actually they're very nice people, I might let them across, James gave me a dung bomb, I'd never seen a dung bomb,' said Hades. By that time they had reached River Styx.

'Have you ever had those times when you just drift off and everything goes black,' asked Hades.

'You mean sleep,' replied Harry.

'Yes! That's the one.'

'Well, sometimes, when I'm not sleepy, I go to my own little world.'

'Wow, that must be amazing.'

'Yeah, it is, cause they know me there.'

'Awesome.' Just as Hades said that clowns popped in front of Harry, and slowly started to dance, Hades' eyes widened in horror.

'Run! They might start strip dancing, run.'

Then Harry woke and he found he was being dragged along the ground by Ron and Seamus.

'We thought you were dead!'

'The way you were talking, it was like you were talking to Hades.'

Then realisation dawned on Harry.

'CLOWNS! THE CLOWNS ARE STRIP-DANCING.'

'You seriously need to go to Madam Promfrey, Harry,' said Ron.

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