Once again, I own no part of the Harry Potter Pie, and my hamster is a dead beat. I've hit her up for rent twice now and she just runs in her wheel and pretends like she doesn't hear me. So please don't sue.

Part two is dedicated to kvk, who was the first person to review. Thank you kvk! Maybe this part will make you smile. ;)

Also big thanks to Athena-Quicksilver, and JustMe for reviewing!

This chapter is a long time coming. Reason being—when I first tried to upload it, my computer crashed and it was lost, so I had to rewrite it! UGH! Also, remember that rubbish about two parts? Yeah, right! They refuse to let me finish it! We'll see how many parts it actually becomes… I'm guessing about four.

Once again #blah# are thoughts, and the random explosion of zeros a break in time. Feedback is welcome. Read on!

Chapter 2

On the fourteenth floor of The Office, someone else happened to be reading their e-mail inbox at almost the exact same moment. There followed a similar half uttered curse and smashing of a forehead into a desk.

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Harry lifted his head off the desk, the letter stuck to his forehead.

"This is so bloody unfair," he moaned, causing the paper to flutter a little. He reached up and yanked the paper off his head, and held it at arms length, as if it was something poisonous that may turn at any moment (and this time Parseltongue would do him no good). He reread the header, willing it to change merely from the power of thought. No such luck.

He looked up, and opened his mouth to bitch to his pictured friends about his rotten luck. His eyes widened and he snapped his mouth shut with a look of bewilderment. #What the…# His eyes darted around the desk before glancing at the floor. He smiled slightly at seeing his friends staring up at him, both looking rather disgruntled. Picture Hermione's mouth was moving so fast it was nearly a blur, and he realized that Picture Ron's angry look towards him was not a result of the actual fall, but rather from listening to Hermione's rant.

"Sorry guys," he sighed as he picked up the frame, once again looking it over for cracks before setting it on the desk.

Picture Hermione picked herself up quickly and dusted off her robes in short bursts of hand movement, eyes never leaving Harry's and her mouth never stopping. Picture Ron seemed quite content to stay seated on the ground, not wanting to cause any movement that would remind Hermione he was there. He did however provide Harry with a questioning look.

Harry held the paper up to the frame, allowing his friends to see exactly what was written. Hermione's mouth snapped shut, and her eyes widened. Ron gave Harry a sympathetic look, then proceeded to turn what looked suspiciously like a guffaw into a hearty coughing fit.

"Thanks for the support, mate," Harry said, narrowing his eyes at Ron.

He stood from the desk and stretched his arms up over his head. #I wonder if I have time for a snack…# With one last longing look at his photographic friends (he had never before wished to be made of paper, until the moment he opened that letter,) he pocketed his wand and headed out the door

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The dining area was reminiscent of the Great Hall, except much larger, and broken up into hundreds of little tables. Ok, so it wasn't like the Great Hall at all, more like an enormous food court in a mall.

The tables were grouped together in sets of four, and each set reflected the style of a different fandom. Of course, it was very easy for Harry to find the section for his folk… not hard to spot a group of heavy wood tables with a cluster of candles floating overhead.

He edged his way over, with the pumpkin juice seeming to call his name. On the way he passed by a set of high gloss, metal tables. Sitting around them were several people in black clothing, shiny leather and just one too many trench coats for Harry's taste. Each one wore a pair of sunglasses, #Bit odd to be wearing those indoors, if you ask me…. Ah, Muggles…# and they were huddled together conspiratorially. As he passed, one of them looked up. The man studied Harry for a moment before speaking.

"You have the look of a man who accepts what he sees because he is expecting to wake up," he said in a deep and wise voice, "Ironically, that's not far from the truth."

"Ah, yes, well, I'll keep that in mind," Harry replied awkwardly while doing his best to hustle away. After Harry had spoken a handful of 'pardon me's and one 'hey hey! Hands to yourself,' he finally plunked down next to the flesh and blood version of Ronald Weasley.

"All right there, Harry," he asked while stuffing in a mouthful of pudding, "saw one of the Matrix blokes chatting you up, what's that about?"

"Dunno, he was either trying to give me some random advice, or trying to get me to take that damned red pill again," Harry said while ladling obscene amounts of stew onto his plate.

They ate together in relative silence before Harry slyly slipped his letter onto the table in front of Ron.

Ron was then saved from choking by a fellow from two tables over.

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After ten solid minutes of commotion, Ron was breathing on his own again, and back sitting next to Harry. He stared at the side of Harry's face, his face a mixture of shock, slight embarrassment, a little anger, but overall—mirth.

Harry ignored him and continued eating, after muttering a quick thanks to Mr. Sparrow for saving Ron's life. (Captain, lad, Captain Sparrow.)

After several bites, chewed perhaps a little more stiff and carefully than normal, he turned to Ron angrily. "Is there a problem?" he spat.

The dam finally broke, and Ron cackled like a schoolgirl.

Harry stared at him in disbelief, "I can't believe you think this is funny! It's horrible!"

Ron released a few more bursts of giggles before wiping his eyes and sighing. "The situation is the worst it could be, but the look on your face," more giggles, "the look on your face is worth a hundred chocolate frogs!" He broke down again in full gales of laughter.

"Thanks a lot Ron, glad to know you're on my side," he stood up angrily, "I should have just let you choke!" With that he turned and stomped out of the dining hall, stepping over Ron in the process, who was now on the floor rolling and holding his sides.

TBC….

A/N: I promise the next chapter will be out sooner than this one. Also, I thought Ron would be angry, but he wouldn't hear of it. He thought it was a riot and a half. R n R please!