Thanks for the many reviews, and a million pardons for Tavia's lack of updating. We encountered a virus on our computer but the issue has been resolved and so, we give you more chapters. I'd also like to address stargazer for the time being: We greatly appreciate that there are people in the fanfiction site who have nothing better to do than over-analyze a simple parody…but, perhaps if there are so many things gone awry on our own fiction, you might be better off writing one of your own. And so…. we continue our story…
"Y'know, I'm getting that feeling that Hermione isn't being open with us," Ron said with the look of bemusement holding strong.
"Me too, Ron," said Harry "and she's been in the library an awful lot...not that she isn't anyway...but you know."
"I sure do, mate and whatever it is...I'm going to put my finger on it or my name isn't Ronald Weasley."
"Right...well I'm going down to the owlry, Hedwig hasn't come around for days and I think something is up. Care to tag along?"
"D'you really think I'm going to sit around and wait for Snape to do me in? I'm with you, mate."
The two boys headed down the corridor looking over their shoulders the entire time. It's amazing how big and silent the castle was to the two boys when they felt that someone was after them. Ron pushed open the doors to the owlry and Harry followed him inside. A dozen birds flew down and perched on Ron and Harry's shoulders.
"Urgh...owl turds," Ron said as he wiped a wad of owl droppings from his hair.
"That's really gross, Ron. Ah, there you are Hedwig!"
Hedwig was sitting on a perch closest to Harry's arm and she nodded at him as she stretched forth her beak and handed Harry a piece of crumpled parchment.
"Hmm, I knew I had mail for some reason...Ron, Hedwig's got a letter!"
"Really now, isn't that jolly?" Said Ron as he continued to fight the owls off of him.
"C'mon, we'll take it to the commons."
"Right, the commons...we're safe in the commons."
Harry and Ron fought their way out of the mass of talons and sharp beaks and back into the deserted hallway, up the stairs and into the portrait ("Silver Sickle") and plopped down into their preferred seats. Harry smoothed out the piece of parchment and read it under his breath so only he and Ron could hear:
I know that you know.
And I am after you.
10:00 pm on Friday the 13th, my dungeon.
Or else.
Ron's face turned ghost white. "F-Friday the t-thirteenth is today, Harry."
"Don't you think I know this Ron?"
"W-what do we do?"
"We do nothing...nothing at all."
"And Hermione?"
"She can take care of herself...besides, as much as I hate to say it...she isn't in as bad off as we are."
Ron looked at the letter once more and threw it into the fireplace. Their eventful evening was about to begin.
Thanks…and we'll continue to update.