A/N: hey all…I'm back. I'm not sure exactly why since I only got ONE stinkin' review. (Thank you very much, by the way, the one lonely person who did review. I am very grateful.) Anyways…not knowing why I decided to continue with this story…I'm doing it anyway. If you still don't like it once you finish reading ch. 2…then…I'll just…give up, I suppose. O__o that's not good. So if you really think there's some insignificant reason to continue w/ this story, do me a favor and review because otherwise two chapters is all you're gonna get. Enjoy. (hopefully)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Entiendas???

"When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on."
-Franklin D. Roosevelt

CHAPTER TWO

(drum roll, please!)

Which Contains A Great Deal Of Nonsense

The group of sad, sorry, stupid, suspicious, something-or-others who were already smuggled into this story were standing sorrowfully by the window staring out into the void, bemoaning their sad and sorry situation. They weren't really, but all of the S's sounded spectacular, didn't they? But they were all huddled around the window, and they were shocked…errr…thunderstruck by the appalling starkness…I mean…absence of anything outside. It was as though nothing existed outside of the room that they were in. (Scary…isn't it?) Anyway, while they were peering out the window, the strange tapping noises which had ceased a while before started up again and echoed spookily around them.

Suddenly, a very frazzled Neal ran through the door, panting, "Is she in here???" before he collapsed in the middle of the stone floor. The entire group turned as one (A/N: whoosh!) from the window and stared at the pathetic, crumpled figure.

Daine gaped at the boy and muttered, "Neal?? What are you doing here?"

"Forget that," exclaimed Numair impatiently, "I want to know how he got in!" He strode to the unconscious frame, pulled him up by his shoulders and shook him. "Wake up. You have to tell me how you got in!"

Rolling her eyes at him, Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it at Neal. "Ennervate." His eyes fluttered open and he glanced around wildly, cowering. But no one was paying attention to him. All eyes were on Hermione. At least, Daine and Numair were looking at her with matching expressions of curiosity, while Ron and Harry were just looking exasperated at her for showing-off.

"You can do magic????" Numair questioned incredulously. His eyes took in their appearance for the first time. Pointy black hats, black robes, wands. "You look a little young to be black robe mages. What are you?"

"What is this, the Portuguese Inquisition?" Ron muttered under his breath.

"That's the Spanish Inquisition, Ron," Hermione replied matter-of-factly. "And this is nothing like it." Numair opened his mouth to ask more questions and she silenced him with a wave of her hand. "As for you, yes, we can do magic. And no, we aren't black robes, or whatever you were calling us. This is just our school uniform. We aren't even full-fledged wizards and witches yet—we're still learning. What's a mage?"

Meanwhile, back on the floor, Neal was still looking around him, paranoid, and twitching spasmodically. Ron looked at him sympathetically and knelt down to ask what was wrong. Neal glanced about with bloodshot eyes, muttering, "Alanna. Teaching. Torture. Help. Don't let her get me!!!!" He shuddered apprehensively, imagining what horrible plots she might be dreaming up for him at this very moment.

Ron gawked at the green eyed boy on the floor and then looked back at Harry skeptically. "He looks like a first year just out of Snape's class for the first time," Harry said. He shuddered in remembrance. Ron blanched, grimacing at the mental image he drew up with those words. "Scratch that," declared Harry. "He looks like anyone just out of Snape's class." Ron nodded in agreement.

Back up to the conversation where we left Hermione and Numair, discussing the differences of witches and mages and what the different colors of robes meant and how they did magic here in Tortall … actually … never mind … lets just leave them with that for a moment, shall we? Ahem … back to Neal … turning toward the door he had come in again, he realized that the moment of doom had come at last and the thing he most dreaded stood in the doorway at this very second. He squeaked and tried to hide behind Numair's tall form. Alanna poked her head in the room and looked around. She took a step in and then realized that the object of her quarry was not in sight and turned to leave. The same violent shock and blast of light that ensued when Numair had tried a similar maneuver … well … ensued, and the redheaded woman found herself hurled to the floor…violently.

"Ow?" she muttered from her horizontal, and, may I add, not especially comfortable position on the stones. Numair hurried over to her and started checking to see if she had broken anything or had a concussion. Neal, his protective wall abandoning him, squeaked and tried to follow the tall man, but was not quick enough. Alanna's sharp violet eyes caught sight of him and glared. "YOU!!!!" she bellowed, springing back to her feet and made to give chase again.

Numair chuckled. "Guess she wasn't hurt too badly, was she?" He sighed, responsibility for the mental health of Daine's young friend ruining this potentially humorous moment. He reached out and grabbed Alanna by the shoulder before she could go tearing off after her wayward squire again. "Alanna, we seem to be stuck here. I couldn't get out. You couldn't get out. I'm not even sure there's still an out to get to." He briefly described the situation with the impenetrable wards on the doors and the absence of … well … anything … out the windows. His information came as something like a shock to the woman, whose face scrunched up while she pondered what to do.

Meanwhile, back at the farm…oops…wrong story. Rumplestiltskin climbed up Sleeping Beauty's hair to find the singing and dancing china and magic tea cozy from the Wizard of Oz. (A/N: The author has now been carted away to the Funny Farm where life is beautiful all day long and the story may resume as usual…or unusual…whichever you would rather have.)

Ahem. Meanwhile, Neal had realized three very important things:

A—He no longer needed to run for his life away from the evil Tyrant-Knight-Mistress Alanna.

B—There was no where to run, even if he had to.

C—He was very, very hungry.

Extremely happy about realizations #'s A and B, he set about fixing # C…in a very roundabout way. He turned to the three who were not involved in discussions of the metaphysical or any such oddities and introduced himself. "I am Squire Nealan of Queenscove. But please, don't call me Nealan. My least favorite aunt calls me that. Actually, she's my only aunt…but still…she would be my least favorite even if I had another one. So call me Neal."

"I'm Harry."

"I'm Ron."

"Hermione Granger."

Neal turned to the boys, "Don't you two have last names?" Puzzled, he looked at Hermione, "And where is 'Granger'? I've never heard of that. Is it in Carthak? Or Tyra? Oh wait, are you commoners? I'm sorry."

Harry and Ron turned red. "He's Potter," said Ron, pointing.

"And he's Weasely," said Harry, pointing back.

Hermione tried to straighten him out. (Neal being stuck in a kinky, pretzel-like position at the moment.) "We aren't from around here. We're from a little planet I like to call Earth…in the Eastern Hemisphere…England? Ever heard of it?" Neal shook his head, puzzled. "Hmmmm. Let's just leave it at that. But we aren't what you would call…um…nobles. He's not Harry of anywhere, if you catch my drift."

Just smile and nod, Neal. Smile and nod. Neal smiled and nodded, feigning comprehension.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. (A/N: my own little private sidebar fantasy: "Give me back my glance, darn it!!!" yells Ron. Harry runs away, taking Ron's glance with him. ^__^ ) They knew exactly where Neal was coming from, having dealt with Hermione in a similar fashion for many years.

"So you can do magic, too?" asked Neal excitedly, steering the conversation away from names and birthplaces.

"Ya!" replied Ron, enthusiastically, catching on to the plan. He winked at Harry, "You think we should demonstrate???"

"Ummm….sure! Why not?" replied His Harry-ness. "What do you want to do?"

"OOOOH!!! I know. Let's transfigure something…that cushion over there…don't you think it would make a great hedgehog?" asked Ron, who by now was becoming very hyper.

Harry, however, was not quite as wild about the idea, knowing that Transfiguration was Ron's second favorite naptime. But hey…this could be amusing! "Sure, why not? Go ahead."

Hermione grimaced and Ron cleared his throat, pointing his wand at the poor, innocent cushion. He muttered the spell and yellow light coursed out of his wand and encircled the cushion. Spikes shot out of it and the legs got claws. Ears, eyes and a nose with little red whiskers popped out on one end and a little bit of a tail (A/N: do hedgehogs have tails? They must, right?) appeared on the other. Within a minute, the red and gold cushion had become…a spiny square red and gold cushion with feet and a face.

"Well….he…sort of…looks like a hedgehog," said Harry brightly.

Ron ventured a smile. "Yes, I suppose he kind of does. I'm going to name him 'Erg-Bob'."

" 'Erg-Bob'????" inquired Hermione skeptically. "That's a bit…odd…don't you think?"

"Erg-Bob is a great name for a hedgehog….err…a sort-of-hedgehog." Ron protested. "Whadda ya say, Erg…you like your name?" The…um…hedge-pillow attempted to nod, but failed due to its lack of neck. "Great! Let's go find you some food." The two new friends trotted off happily in the direction of one of the passages (not the one Neal and Alanna had appeared through.)

Neal's ears perked up at the mention of food, and he started inching after them, saying to Harry and Hermione, "Er….I think I'll just…go after them…keep them out of trouble and whatnot…" Neal trailed off, breaking into a sprint to catch up to the two figures down the passage.

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. ("Here ya go, Harry—one glance, coming right up!" says Hermione. Harry smiles and replies, "Well…you can't have my glance…but here—have Ron's instead!") It looked like they should follow them…to keep them from hurting themselves…or something…that and the food wouldn't be bad either. So they, too, set off down the stone hallway.

Presently, the four friends, now five with the addition of Erg-Bob the hedgehog, were reunited when the passage suddenly split in three. Neal began muttering out loud about horrible people building these things just to confuse poor innocent starving people and that they really should have some food about here somewhere. The strange tapping noised, which had never really ceased, increased in volume and tempo, and suddenly Our Heroes (and Heroine) could smell a tremendous smelly sort of smell coming from the far left passage.

Neal's eyes widened. "FOOOOOOOOOD!!!" he yelled triumphantly, running full speed ahead down the hall.

Erg-Bob and Ron looked at each other. Erg-Bob attempted to raise an eyebrow at this strange behavior exhibited by their new friend…and belatedly realized that he lacked eyebrows in the first place. Defeated by this cruel trick of nature, he simply twitched his nose and headed down the same passage Neal had just galloped through, towards the scrumptious smell of sustenance.

This being a good place to stop, before I embark upon my fifth page of insanity, I wish to see if you, the common garden variety of nice reader-people, would like me to continue my unpredictably strange and unusual tale. (If at this point you are objecting to my strange vocabulary…its like my friend Heather always says… "I never use big words when the diminutive ones would suffice!") O__o

Anyway…tell me what you thought. Surprisingly, it only took one review for me to get another chapter up….even though it took me all of three weeks to decide to write more. (I know, I know…I've been neglecting you shamefully, you poor story. *The author weeps bitter tears, shorting out her keyboard.*

In short: REVIEW!!!!

Thanks muchly for reading at least.

~ Erm the Penguin ~