Yo! I thought of this one last September while in pre-op for my first cataract surgery, and wrote it after my eye healed up a bit, but never got around to editing and posting it. I thought it was hilarious, but I acknowledge that I was an anxious mess that day, and my mind was all over the place, so maybe it isn't as funny as I thought it was. Meh. Thank you to all readers so far!
*Sixth year maybe?*
"Guess who made the evening edition of the Prophet?"
Hermione paused mid step and frowned. "What are they saying you did this time?"
"Stole someone's sweetroll."
"...What?"
"I'm not even joking. Here-" Harry waited for Hermione to sit down beside him, and then passed her the paper.
Accepting it, Hermione only had to glance at the top of the page before realizing that Harry was not, in fact, pulling her leg.
'Harry Potter: Savior or Stealer of Sweetrolls?'
"..."
"..."
"..."
"I guess it must've been a slow news day?" Harry offered.
"Twenty people died in a raid five hours ago."
"Oh...right."
"..."
"..."
"Hey!" A Slytherin from the other table suddenly yelled out. "Where's my sweetroll!?"
"Potter probably stole it!" a Ravenclaw called out. "The Daily Prophet says he's been on a stealing spree of those things!"
Harry froze as all eyes turned to him. Then he jumped to his feet. "It was Ron!"
And while all the attention moved to his half-asleep best friend who also just so happened to be in the middle of eating a sweetroll, Harry bolted out of the Great Hall.
He ran through the castle until he reached the seventh floor, and after walking past a blank wall three times, stepped through the doorway that appeared.
The door shut behind him with a heavy thud and Harry didn't even look around the small room he was now in. Instead, he approached the single wooden chest that sat in the middle of the room, lit by a glowing ball of blueish light that hovered over it.
Slowly, Harry kneeled down in front of the chest and stroked its metal fastenings gently before opening the chest, which was full to the brim.
He stared at the contents within, his mouth watering, and began to reach forward, only to stop himself abruptly. No, he couldn't eat these. Control. He had to have control.
"No one must ever know," he whispered, closing the chest again.
Yes, it was true that Harry had never stolen a single sweetroll in his life, but the same couldn't be said about treacle tarts!
And that's this one. ...I still think it's pretty funny. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!