A/N: Yay! My first Harry Potter fic! Isn't that great? Yes of course it is! Anyway, it is just a little something I thought up while my brother was reading this poem out loud and I was reading HP fics! So its "The Raven" but with the characters of HP!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all his friends and things do not belong to me, they belong to J.K. Rowling and everyone knows that! "The Raven" is by Edgar Allan Poe who is the best person in the entire world (even though he is dead!) and I love him so much and live for the sole purpose of reading his writing because he should rule the world!!! Ahem.... anyway...on with the story!

The Raven-Harry Potter Style

One December night, at around midnight, Harry Potter was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, reading in front of the fire when he heard a knock coming from the portrait hole. He stood up from his rather comfy chair and spoke, in a loud and somewhat shaking voice,

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over a many quaint and curious volume of forgotten lure,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my..."

"Who are you talking to?" Ron asked as he poked his head out of the dormitory door, looking at Harry as if he were mad.
Harry glared at him and opened his mouth to answer but a loud boom caused by thunder interrupted him. Harry shrieked, but as soon as he realized it was only thunder he sat down and began to read again (he seemed to have forgotten all about Ron.) Ron simply shrugged and sat on the stairs, still looking at Harry as though he was crazy. Then Harry began to speak again.

"Ah, distinctly, I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor..."

Ron, however, interrupted him again. "What are you talking about, Harry? You remember? It happened like...ten seconds ago!"
Harry paid no attention to his friend, though and continued with his poem.

"Eagerly I wished the morrow; -vainly I had sought to borrow..."

"What does that mean?"
This time, Harry got mad. "Shut up, Ron! I'm 'spose to be going crazy and scaring myself and readers out of their pants! You're ruining it!" he bellowed. Ron looked rather surprised, but nodded his head.

"Eagerly I wished the morrow; -vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease the sorrow-sorrow for the lost Hermione-
The rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Hermione-
Nameless here, for evermore..."

It was now Hermione's turn to rain on Harry's parade, for at that precise moment, she burst through the portrait hole and started to scold Harry. "My name's not Hermione! Well, it is, but that's not the point!"
"Its exactly the point," Ron protested from his place on the stairs, "You just said you're name was not Hermione, and then you said it wasn't. I would think that was the point if you come in all upset about it."
Hermione glared at Ron, her face red with fury, but she did not respond to his comment. "What I meant was in this story I'm Lenore, that's the way Mr. Poe wrote the poem. And really, Harry, the name "Hermione" just doesn't go well with the rest of the poem. It throws the whole rhythm off balance!"
Harry looked at Hermione as if he wanted to bite of her head off. Instead though, he simply pointed to Ron and demanded, "Go sit with him."
"But-"
"No buts. Go!"
"Alright, alright, I'm going. Sheese, you'd think I tried to steal his Firebolt or something," she said, plopping down next to Ron.
"ARE YOU TRYING TO STEAL MY FIREBOLT?" Harry screamed.
"NO!" Ron and Hermione cried together.
"Oh, good...anyway:

And the silken, sad, uncertain, rustling of each purple curtain
(Ron leaned over and whispered to Hermione, "those curtains look red to me.")
Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
(Harry shrieked at the top of his lungs the next line)
''T is some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door...'"

"Ah, Harry? I hate to burst you're bubble, but your chamber is up here," Fred Weasley said as he and George came out of there own dormitory to see what the racket was all about.
"Sit!" Harry screamed to them, again pointing to Ron. He was obviously very tired of being interrupted. The twins looked rather surprise, but sat once they saw the You-Had-Better-Sit-Down-Or-You'll-End-Up-Worse-Than-Him-Look Hermione was giving them. Harry cleared his throat loudly and glared at the four people on the stairs, as if daring them to talk. When no one did, he continued,

"''T is some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late night visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
That is it and nothing more.'"

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then now longer,
'Sir,' said I, 'or Madam, truly you're forgiveness I implore...'"

"Zat is alright, 'Arry, I vas just going for a zittle walk. No need to apozogise," Madame Maxmime said, looking rather confused as she climbed through the portrait hole.
Harry face turned redder than Ron's hair as he looked at Madam Maxmime's puzzled expression. "I'll give you to the count of five, Headmistress, and if you're not gone you'll have to go sit with the others," he growled through gritted teeth. "Un, deux, troi, quatre, cinq!" Madame Maxmime was so surprised she hadn't even moved an inch.
"That's it!" cried Harry, "Up you go!" He then shooed Madame Maxmime up the stairs to join the other four, who at this point feared Harry's...well, shall we say craziness?
He once again started his poem:

" 'But the fact was I napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That scarce was sure I heard you'-hear I opened wide the door-
Darkness there and nothing more."

As Harry song the portrait forward, expected, as the poem says, to see nothing but darkness, he let out a terrified cry. The five hostages leaned forward as far as they could to see what the commotion was all about. Where Harry wanted darkness, stood Neville Longbottom. "Harry thank goodness!" he sobbed, "I've been stuck out there for ages! I forgot the password, and, well...you know..."
Harry looked livid. And Neville most have noticed it, too, for all Harry had to do was point to the other five and Neville climbed the stairs to join them. Once again, Harry continued:

A/N: I'm not finished, but it took me a long time to write this! It's not as funny as I thought it would be, but.... what are ya gonna do? I mean really... anyway...review and tell me if I should continue, or I should just not bother. Personally, I don't how you could have made it this as it is...well, if you want me to continue, each chapter will be about four stanzas from the poem. Ok then? Ok. Bbye.