A/N- I knooooooow, I'm soooooory, it's been so looooong. Not really, I think it's been 3 weeks? Not that bad. I have 12 more days off of school, but there's a family wedding coming up so the whole bridal shower and rehearsal dinner and all that other stuff takes up my time. Plus I have a huge history project. Thanks, 8th grade history.

So blame it on them! I'll try to update sooner! (Important AN at the bottom.)

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.

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Chapter 14- Silver Platters

Neville Longbottom was on his computer, e-mailing his best man about his wedding plans, when a very flustered Hannah came in, holding the phone. "Neville, dear, there's someone on the phone who wants to talk to you…"

Neville frowned at her expression. "Who is…"

"Just take it."

Neville obliged, and she left. He was extremely surprised at the voice at the other end.

"Hello Mr Longbottom…"

Neville gaped and nearly dropped the phone. "T-Tom…"

"No need for the shock, I just need to request something."

"Um… yes?"

"I'm sure you've heard of the new show on the television? Survive That?"

"I have."

There was a pause. "I'm the mastermind behind it."

Neville took a moment to process this. Voldemort was behind a desert island reality TV show. Huh. "Well… that is certainly… interesting."

"Hm. Isn't it. Well, Mr Longbottom, if you could check your inbox right about now, you should find an email from me."

Neville clicked on his inbox. "Er… are you Riddle_Iz_Da_Bomb?"

Tom coughed on the other end. "Embarassingly, yes. Potter said the only way I could have an email is if he made it for me."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, anyway, there is a video attachment. Watch it now."

Neville did as he was told. A small 20-second clip played, obviously taken from an unaired episode. It was Pansy, looking nervous:

"I just wanted to say one last thing, and I really need this to make it on air… Ever since school I've had a big crush on a boy named Neville Longbottom."

Pansy liked me? Pansy Pug-faced Parkinson liked me? Or… she still does like me? What is the world coming to? What does this mean? Wha… who…huh…

"Mr Longbottom? I take it you've finished?"

Neville answered with a small squeak.

"So, because of this, the other producers of the show would appreciate it if you'd make a guest appearance. And I suggest you do. Because we all wouldn't be happy if you refused."

Neville squeaked again.

"I'll take that as a yes, purely because I'm not taking no for an answer. Thank you Mr Longbottom. You will be receiving an owl soon and a possible phone call from a Cindy Merridew." Click.

Neville spluttered. "Bu… but… wha…" He looked to the phone and tried calling back. A woman's voice answered.

Hello, you have reached the voicemail of Lord- er, I mean, Tom Riddle. How do I stop recordi- oh, here. We are sorry, but Lord- er, I mean, Tom Riddle. How do I stop recordi- oh, here is not available at the moment. Please try again or leave a message after the beep. BEEP!

"Neville?" Hannah entered the room again. "Is everything okay?"

"I… well, dear, it looks like our honeymoon's going to be on a desert island."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Snitch, parchment, wand! Ha! Wand beats parchment, Harry," Ron grinned triumphantly.

"But…" Harry frowned. "I thought parchment beats Snitch…"

"It does," Ron said patiently.

Harry sighed. "Muggle's rock, paper, scissors is so much simpler…"

Blaise continued banging his head against a tree a couple yards away. Luna was weaving potholders. Draco was lying face-down in the sand and Hermione was nervously fingering with the hem of her long skirt while murmuring things to herself. Ginny was keeping track of Harry and Ron's Snitch, parchment, wand game. No one knew where Pansy was. Needless to say, they were bored.

Draco lifted his head up. "Blaise, what time is it?"

Blaise stopped his head-banging and looked at his watch. "Two more minutes."

"M'kay," Draco flopped his head back into the sand. Every seven minutes, he would flip onto his back, then back onto his stomach, and so on. He was getting a very nice tan.

Luna looked up. "Does anyone need a potholder?"

"I do!" called Blaise. He took it, and pressed it against the tree. "It offers cushion for my forehead every time I bang against the trunk."

"You're killing brain cells," Ginny said.

"Don't care."

There was a long moment of silence, with only the scratching of bark as Ginny tallied up points for Harry and Ron and the slight murmurs from Hermione.

"I have another potholder!" Luna called.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Murmur. Murmur.

Seven minutes- flop.

Scratch. "Another point for Ron."

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Murmur.

Scratch. "Two for Ron."

Bang. Murmur. Bang. Murmur.

"OMIGOD I AM GOING TO DIE HERE."

Everyone immediately stopped and turned their heads. The sudden explosion came from someone very unexpected.

"I'm sorry, but there is absolutely nothing to do," Luna said. "I've made enough potholders to last me three lifetimes and I'm done listening to you guys mope."

"Cook me something then," Draco requested.

"I'm not your slave."

"You asked for something to do, I answered. Oh, and while you're at it, see if you can find Pansy."

Luna sighed and left.

"My forehead hurts," whined Blaise.

"Or perhaps in Slytherin, those cunning folks use any means to achieve their ends," Ginny sang. "You are so cunning Blaise. You see, banging your head against a tree repeatedly will make it hurt."

"That's not what cunning means, it's-" And the two divulged into a fight over the meaning of the word cunning.

With their scorekeeper gone, Harry and Ron abandoned their game.

"What's Hermione doing?" Ron asked, looking at the muttering girl in the corner.

Harry shrugged. "She's looks a bit off her rocker…"

They both looked at each other and said at the same time: "You're talking to her!"

"I'm not dealing with an emotional woman. Not now." Ron said.

"But-"

"No buts, Harry. You're better with girls."

"Since when?"

"Since now, when I don't feel like talking to Hermione."

"Fine." Harry got up and walked over to Hermione, carefully stepping over Draco, who hadn't spoken since Luna left.

"Hey, Hermione- are you alright?"

Hermione didn't look up. "No."

"What happened?"

"I'm dead."

Harry poked her. "No, you're quite alive."

"Well, I will be."

"Why?"

"I made a fool of myself in the interview," she sighed. "I yelled at Jeff. I went insane. And I just about admitted that I like Draco Malfoy."

"Do you?"

Hermione looked up. "I… no… yes… maybe…"

"Thanks for the straight answer."

Hermione lowered her voice to a whisper. "I'm in denial Harry. That is a very bad thing."

"Um… "

"Haven't you read a SINGLE romance novel? Merlin, they're the worst kind, but these are exactly the type of signs I'm supposed to be AVOIDING- I never should've spoken to him. Never should've taken the job at his company. Never should have met him- I never should have gone to HOGWARTS, Harry- it's all DUMBLEDORE'S FAULT!"

Harry nodded very slowly. So this is what Ron meant. "Well… I think we're being a bit irrational here…"

"Are we Harry? Are we really? I mean look at him, dammit!" Hermione pointed at the pathetic Draco flopped on the sand. "Ooohhh…"

Harry patted her back. "I don't exactly know what's going on right now…"

Hermione looked straight into his grass-green eyes. "Let me spell this out for you clearly: I think I'm falling in love with Draco."

"Oh- yes, that's an issue."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Luna stepped over the large vines drooping from the large trees above her, looking for something edible. Anything edible really. This island diet was not doing well for anyone. Then she heard voices.

"Yes, I'm about to go get them. For the next challenge." It was Jeff.

"You called that Longbottom, correct?" And there was Cindy. But why were they calling Neville?

"I had someone else do it."

"Who?"

"Oh, just one of the other producers... you know, the one who got us the contestants."

Luna listened closer.

"Oh, him…"

"Yeah… well, I'm going to go get them now. The next challenge, you know."

"Of course."

Luna scampered away, not wanting to be caught. Why did they call Neville? The only time they mentioned him on air was… She grinned. Pansy's dare. They were bringing him here because of Pansy's interview. But wasn't he engaged? And didn't she like Ron now? Oh, this is going to be fun… she thought as she entered the clearing with her friends again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Draco was about to make his 27th cycle when a woman entered the clearing, another woman in tow.

"Oh, there's Pansy," Ron said.

"Yeah," Pansy said, brushing leaves out of her hair. "Cindy found me on her way here." She sent a pointed glare at Ron, expressing her opinion that he should have been the one to go find her. He got up and slung an arm around her shoulders and whispered, "We did send Luna to get you."

Harry looked at Cindy hopefully. "Are you here to rescue us? Give us something to do?"

"Why yes, I am. Although I can't promise you'll be too happy about it."

Hermione looked up. "Don't tell me it's a challenge? I'm perfectly happy staying here rather than doing that again."

"Oh, Hermione, now it wouldn't be a game show without pain, would it? Besides, I'm 90 percent sure that you have the second most viewer points by now. The people love you."

"They love me for the pain I endure so they can laugh."

Draco had finally gotten off of his back and was sitting upright. "Does it concern food? I'm starving and Luna didn't get anything."

Luna smiled serenely. "I thought I saw Nargles."

Cindy gave her an odd look. "Well, it does concern food, but-"

"Thank Merl- God," Draco said, correcting himself.

"Alright then, if you all could follow me," Cindy said. They trekked across the island to the Clearing, where Jeff and the cameramen were waiting. Before them was a makeshift table- in other words, a slab of wood covered with a black cloth propped up by a couple logs. On the cloth were eight silver platters, covered by eight silver domes.

Pansy gulped. "I don't want to know what's waiting underneath those."

"Don't tell me this is going to be a rerun of Fear Factor," Hermione whispered.

"I'm hungry," Draco stated again.

"Hungry enough to eat this? I don't know about that…" Cindy said with a devious grin.

Jim smiled as well. "Alright… we're taping in three… two… one…"

Cindy got in front of one of the cameras. "We're here again in the main Clearing with our eight contestants, all of which have not eaten a true meal in nearly twenty-four hours. Needless to say, they were bored, hungry, and in need of a little fun. Now that's precisely what we're going to provide. Jeff?"

The camera swung to Jeff, who was standing behind the platter-clad table. "Beneath each of these domes, on each of these hidden plates, is a meal that no sane person would probably ever want to eat. But it's the only thing available to our contestants now, and there is a hefty point reward to whoever eats the most. So if we could have our first four?"

Ron, who was pale-faced, gulped. "Er- ladies first?"

Pansy groaned as Cindy pushed her forward. "Go on up there, ladies."

Each woman took a seat before one of the eight meals. Luna was humming to herself, Hermione was giving her plate an apprehensive look, Ginny couldn't help but look a bit scared, and Pansy appeared to be on the brink of a heart attack.

Jeff swooped above Luna. "Our first plate." He lifted the lid to reveal a plate with about half a dozen squirming worms.

Luna cocked her head to one side and surveyed her plate. "Well… I do feel bad about eating the poor things, but you do what you've got to do, right?"

Everyone looked at her like she was insane. But that wasn't anything new.

Jeff went to Hermione next. Beneath her lid- a plate of cooked cockroaches.

Hermione closed her eyes for a long moment. "…Ew."

Next came Ginny, and with a gigantic swoop, the most disgusting thing she had ever seen in her life was revealed. It looked as if someone had puked on her plate.

"Um… what is it?"

Jeff grinned. "Lamb intestine stuffed with a mix of vegetables and beetles." A slight gagging could be heard in the background.

"Sounds like haggis," Ginny mused. "Besides the beetles, of course."

"At least you get something halfway normal," Hermione muttered.

"And lastly," Jeff said. "Miss Parkinson." Pansy's face was completely white now, and she was shaking.

The last lid was opened to show off a plate decorated with cooked grubs. "Ooooh…" She gagged. "No way in hell I'm eating that."

"Oh, but you have to," Jeff said evilly. "You see, there's a catch."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A/N- Muah hahaha! Aren't I evil? No, I'm not really.

So here's my updates: I have a brand new blog and a FictionPress account! Yay! The links are on my profile page. The blog has random posts by me as well as some explaining certain things in my fics. Thanks to Erin, who has already gone on there and commented. :D

Thank you all! You may review…. … … NOW!