A/N: All right, the thing you have been waiting for, the second chapter of the life of my insignificant, and useless, fan fiction story. Enjoy. *Scoff*

Harry thought that each day would be even more fun than the previous day. Harry had everything planned in his mind; he and Ron would do everything but homework. He was grossly mistaken

                Harry woke up early the day after he arrived at the Burrow. He was looking forward to spending the day with his best friend, and his wonderful family.

Harry was thoroughly perplexed as to why Ron started to do homework; it was only their third day of vacation. Harry was not the only one who found it mystifying that Ron was actually doing his assignments without being told, bribed or tortured to do so.

Mr. Weasley thought that it was just a matter of time. Whenever he had Ron in his sights, he would suddenly say, "Is that a soon-to-be-prefect I see?" This never bothered Ron though; he just made sure to make less contact with his dad throughout the day.

His mother was different; she had started telling the others off for being lazy. "I wish you'd be more like your brother Ron" or "Do you know what Ron is doing, he is doing his homework. What are you doing?" or "Ron is going to get higher O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s than all of you if you don't start smarting yourselves up." she would say nearly everyday as Harry, Ginny, Fred and George played exploding snap, and occasionally wizard chess. Ron would be seen in the recliner with a book. Mrs. Weasley always let Ron take first dibs whenever she made sweets. Ron was practically being put upon a pedestal just for doing his homework. Though Ron deserved all the recognition he attained, Harry still felt jealous.

Fred and George never gave up an opportunity to rag on their brother. "Trying to be like Percy are we? Starting to get attracted to books Ron? Don't get the pages stuck together."  They also had looked at Ron's room and found that it was absolutely immaculate.

Ginny on the other hand marveled at her brother's newfound initiative, and intellect. She had on occasion asked Ron to help her with her schoolwork. The old Ron would have blown her off, but the new Ron had always helped her when she asked, and asked if she needed help when she did not. Ginny and her brother got along well together from then on.

It had been weeks since Harry came to the Burrow. Ron was sitting in the recliner reading his Transfiguration book. On his third repetition, Ron read a little quicker than usual. He had started getting bored when he finished all of his homework, and read all of his schoolbooks including Fred and George's. Ron sighed as he turned the page.

I wonder what she's doing. Damn you Hermione, why'd you have to go to Bulgaria. That lousy Quidditch jockey of a Bulgarian doesn't love you. I do.

Lost in his reverie Ron did not notice Harry entering the room. In his arms were dozens of parchment, a quill, and a few inkbottles. Hedwig just returned yesterday, and Harry thought it was about time that Ron wrote to Hermione.

"Hello Ron," said Harry with a big smile. He hoped that Ron had not noticed the letter writing equipment that he had brought in the living room.

"Hello Harry," said Ron, his eyes glued to the pages of his Transfiguration book. Though the chapter he was reading was particularly boring, he saw what Harry brought and knew what Harry had planned. Ron would not do it, if anyone were going to write a letter it would be Hermione. She is the one who went to Bulgaria; she is the one who left them, left him.

"Can I help you with something," asked Ron acerbically. Harry was standing there looking expectantly at the pile of parchment, quills, and inkbottles. Ron just looked at Harry appraisingly as though gauging Harry's seriousness. Harry was very serious.

"Never mind. I'm going down stairs for breakfast if you need me," said Harry.

Harry walked down the stairs, with a smile on his face. He had the most wonderful dream. He and Cho were in the common room, alone, and then suddenly they started making out. Ginny walked in, and then she, Harry and Cho –

"Hi Harry!" yelled George at the top of his lungs. He and Fred were at the bottom of the stairs. Startled, Harry fell down the flight of steps between himself and the twins. Fred and George lifted Harry up from the floor, and were surprised to find that, for the most part, Harry was unscathed. The only signs of the fall were the tattered clothes, and his scar was opened. Blood silently crawled down Harry's pained face.

"Oh crap. I'm really sorry Harry," George said grabbing Fred's robes and wiping Harry's forehead.

"Oi! Gerroff – me – you – git!" grunted Fred while trying to pry George's hands from his robes. "George!"

"George, I'm all right," squeaked Harry, "I swear I'm okay. Just don't tell your mum."

"Are you daft? Of course we won't tell mum," said George indignantly, who was rewarded with Fred's elbow jabbing his ribs.

Harry tired of yapping, walked into the kitchen looking for Ron. Harry saw Mrs. Weasley at the stove cooking up a storm, a sight he became accustomed to since his second year at Hogwarts. Mr. Weasley was once again found with his newspaper. He had taken to reading the muggle papers, just as Dumbledore does, along with the Daily Prophet. He had tried to persuade Fudge to print out an article about Cedric Diggory's death, but to no avail. Fudge was as stubborn as Dumbledore thought he would be.

Harry was pulled out of the kitchen before Mr. or Mrs. Weasley saw him. Harry turned around sharply and met face to face with George Weasley, wand in hand and pointing it at Harry. Fred looked around, to see if there were any witnesses.

"It's clear," whispered Fred.

"I'm sorry about this Harry," whispered George who was covering Harry's mouth and motioning Fred to pin Harry to the wall.

"Now, this won't hurt at all. Obliviate." With their deed done, Fred and George ran back to their room, leaving Harry dazed, and confused.

"Harry, are you okay? Snap out of it," said a familiar voice. Harry opened his eyes and, was taken aback when he realized he was back in Gryffindor's common room. He looked to the side where the voice came from; it was Ron. Moreover, on the other side of him was Hermione.

"What are we doing back here," Harry asked Hermione, who just ignored him. He asked the same question to Ron and was given the same response. Then something weird happened.

"Yeah, sorry," said Harry.

That was his voice! How could he hear his voice if he was not talking? What the heck is going on?

"Ron! Hermione! Can you hear me?" Harry yelled at the top of his voice.

"Harry, we have to get out of here. Voldemort is on school grounds, and he is after you," screeched Hermione, tugging on Harry's arm.

"Harry, are you okay? Snap out of it," said a familiar voice. Harry could feel the side of his face warming from the fierce patting of someone's hand against it.

"Ugh… Where am I," asked Harry grabbing onto his forehead, where his cut was – no longer open. Harry's head was throbbing with each beat of his heart. His eyes, though open, were having difficulty seeing straight. His glasses fell off.

"You're at the Burrow dear," said Mrs. Weasley softly, "You had a nasty fall from the look of it."

"Yeah," interjected Ron, "I was walking downstairs when I saw you sprawled on the floor. Do you know what happened to you?"

"I – I don't know… Ow, my head is throbbing," groaned Harry still clutching his forehead. Was that all a dream, it seemed so real?

"Hold on dear," said Mrs. Weasley running to the kitchen, "Here take this." In her hand was a red and yellow pill and in the other was a glass of pumpkin juice.

"What is this Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked.

 Sitting up from his lying down position, Harry reached over and grabbed the glass and yellow and red pill.

"It's an aspirin dear," said Mrs. Weasley simply, "Strong enough for a Wizard, made for Muggles." Mrs. Weasley nodded, and Harry ingested the capsule.

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley, I think I'll just go back to my room and take a nap," said Harry once again clutching onto his forehead.

"I'll walk you up," Ron said helping Harry up from the floor and putting one of Harry's arms around his shoulder.

"Thanks but you don't need to carry me Ron, I can walk," Harry responded. Ron let go of Harry, and they walked silently toward Harry's room.

Ron was about to co back downstairs, when Harry stopped him.

"Come back quickly Ron, I – I had a premonition or something," Harry said.

Ron nodded solemnly.

"Oh, and Ron?" replied Harry.

"Yeah Harry?" said Ron

"Can you bring me back some bacon and eggs?" Ron nodded and walked away laughing merrily.

Airport

"Hermione hurry up, we'll miss the plane," shouted Mr. Granger as he pulled his wife toward the gate. Hermione broke up with Viktor, and now she and her family were on their way back to Britain. Unfortunately, the wakeup call that Mr. Granger had ordered came an hour late, and that made him cranky.

"I'll be there in a second dad," cried out Hermione. Standing beside her was her "ex – boyfriend" Viktor Krum, the famous Quidditch player.

"I had a good time here Viktor, thank you for having me," said Hermione.

"It vas my pleasure," said Viktor waving his hand, "I just vish that ve didn't haff to part in dis vay, Hermy – own – niny." Viktor reached out to grab Hermione's hand, but she hastily put them into her pants pocket.

"May I haff a good-bye kiss?" asked Viktor.

Hermione nodded. Viktor leaned forward; she was shorter than he was after all. Viktor closed his eyes and pursed his lips, his destination Hermone's lips. Hermione turned her head and Viktor's lips encountered her cheek. Viktor rose back up slowly.

"It is the red – headed one?" Viktor said as he opened his eyes just in time to see Hermione blush.

"Yes, it is," Hermione, said looking down to her feet.

I thought we went over this last night. Why is he bringing it up again?

"I just vanted to say that, he is a very lucky man, and good luck," Viktor then Dissapparated, to where Hermione could only guess. She could not have known that he would have been affected so much from their "break up."

Ron… you had better welcome me with open arms, and an open heart or –

"Hermione!" cried Hermione's father at the gate.

"I'm coming Dad!" replied Hermione breaking into a run.

Hermione ran towards her father; Was this the year they'd live most dangerously, or the year that love shrouds the two love starved teenagers, Hermione did not know, but will find out.

Time flew by without incident from then on for Harry; in fact, it was the best experience of his life. This was the first year Harry had a "proper" birthday. He was utterly surprised the Weasleys had thrown him a party, let alone invited nearly the whole of Gryffindor House. Gryffindors from third year and up were invited. Harry was being followed by, soon to be fourth year Gryffindor, Colin Creevey and his younger, soon to be second year, Dennis. Harry did not seem to mind, at least not today, he was having a great time.

                Ron made his way into the kitchen. Ron was getting worried about Harry. His scar hurt first year, and that eventually led to the fight against Professor Quirrel/Voldemort. His scar ached their fourth year, that led on to Voldemort's return and Harry's traumatic experience. Now his scar bled, not a good sign if Ron ever saw one. If a hurting scar produced all that carnage, what would happen because his scar is bleeding?

                Ron absentmindedly poured maple syrup onto his hand

"Harry," a voice whispered to the right of Harry. "Harry, over here." It was Ron. He was gesturing Harry to come over, which Harry obliged unquestioningly.
                "What do you want," asked Harry. Though he meant to say it as nicely as possible, he noticed the edge in his voice and his hands were balled into fists. He has not seen Hermione at the party and wondered if Ron bothered to invite her to it at all.

"Sorry, what is it," Harry mumbled considerably nicer.
                "It's all right," Ron said. "I know. It's the Creeveys. I'll lead them away from you. You'll get at least a few minutes of peace." Ron started towards the Creevey brothers but Harry grabbed his arm. Ron turned his head. 

"What?"
                "Where's Hermione? Did you invite her?" Harry was still holding Ron's arms. Ron's ears seemed to be glowing red, his eyes not meeting Harry's instead looked into his scar.
                "She's in Bulgaria isn't she? I bet she's having a spanking good time with Vicky," Ron said coolly no longer looking at Harry at all. Ron wretched his arm away from Harry

If that ruddy Bulgarian Quidditch jockey lays one hand on her –
                "Ron she came back more than a month ago," Harry said hotly, he was a bit peeved at Ron, not about Hermione, the fact that Ron wretched his arm from Harry's grasp, "Now go get Pig, and – never mind she's here."
                Indeed. Hermione just stepped out of the kitchen. She was the same Hermione that they parted with from King's Cross-; she had same bushy hair, same eyes, and same shrunken teeth. Yet, this Hermione was different; she was wearing cut-off jeans and a work shirt tied at her midriff.
                Hermione turned around, for reasons unknown, which showed her backside to the crowd. Despite himself, Harry looked at her bum, looking for panty lines. He saw no trace. Suddenly a thought flashed through his mind.
                I wonder if she is wearing any underwear.
                "Harry!" yelled the Creeveys from behind Harry.
                Harry jumped and turned around quickly. It was the Creevey brothers, but Harry was not looking at them now, the site behind them amazed him. All of the soon to be fourth and fifth year boys were staring at Hermione with the utmost attention, and Harry noticed that a few older students were casually glancing her way.
                "Where's Ron?" asked Harry.
                "He said something about being tired, and said he'll be in his room sleeping and told us to tell you not to disturb him," said Colin Creevey oblivious to Harry's anger that Ron did not even say "hi" to Hermione.
                This is going to get worse before it gets any better.
A/N: The sequence after Harry's fall is all a dream, I do not believe that readers should be told that the sequence is a dream. It takes the fun out of it.  All right people, we have reached that point in time for all of you to review. I do not care if it is good or bad, as long as you are reviewing. I need to know that someone is reading my junk.