haha Emmy and I like this chapter...well, I know i like it, i don't know about Emmy, but she seemed to enjoy adding to it...

spanakopita...haha...i crack myself up.

Don't own it! it's an injustice to my rights as an American citizen; i should be able to own what i write. well, even if it is mooching off another writer. who really gives. lol.

God. 66 hits already and still ONLY THREE REVIEWS. I HAVE REASON TO BE SAD. YOU ARE SLOWLY KILLING ME, READERS OF FANFICTION. NOT EVEN THE PEOPLE WHO SAID THEY LIKED IT HAVE BOTHERED TO REVIEW AGAIN ON THE NEW CHAPTERS. oh well. i'll just give it some time, review #4 is bound to come about any YEAR or so...grrr...

oh, sorry about that bit of confusion with the two identical chapters...i honestly DO NOT know how that happened...i do appreciate SOMEBODY reviewing, though, even if it wasn't a raving exclamation of our genius...

Chapter 5: Friend...or DYSLEXIC FIEND?

Dumbledore's study was dark, so dark, in fact, that Hermione and Ron were forced to feel around in front of them (and each other, to the disgust of Professor McGonagall) before stepping into the room. McGonagall, of course, had cat vision, and strode confidently in, unhindered by the deep gloom. Ron swallowed uneasily, and glared at where he assumed McGonagall was, pissed that she got all the cool superhuman powers.

"Dumbledore?" called Hermione. "Dumbledore, are you in here?"

"Albus? Albus?" The two students could hear McGonagall walking around. "Merlin's beard, he's not here!" Her voice cried from the far side of the room.

"How the hell can you tell?" said Ron irritably. A bump signaled he'd collided with large and heavy piece of furniture.

"Language, Ronald. I know because I have eyes, and I hardly think Headmaster Dumbledore would hide from us inside the broom closet. Unless…Trelawny…" She muttered something that neither Hermione nor Ron could understand. "Oh, and don't walk that way, Mr. Weasley, you're headed straight for a rather impressive-looking antique sword collection."

Ron stopped in his tracks.

"Gone?" said Hermione incredulously. "How on earth could he be gone? And without telling anyone?" She squeaked, apparently having tripped on something. "Oh, for God's sake, where are the bloody lights?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ms. Granger. This is an ancient castle, there are no 'bloody lights'." Hermione heard her sigh, and could imagine her looking around in weary frustration. "Keep Harry close to you, Ms. Granger, unless he hurts himself in the dark," she admonished. Hermione inwardly rolled her eyes at such condescending treatment.

"He would hurt himself even if the lights were on," Ron reflected.

"No, Ron has Harry, not me," said Hermione absentmindedly to McGonagall."What? No I don't! I thought one of you had him!"

There was a brief stunned silence.

"You mean you don't have him?" said Hermione and the professor at once.

"Yes I do, haha, just kidding, I put him in my pocket, you see," Ron said sourly.

"Oh, shit!" Hermione said. McGonagall gasped. "We must have left him in the common room! Ron, you dolt!"

"What? You were the one acting all prissy, I thought you were going to take responsibility! Since you seemed so eager to rule us all, Adolf Granger- you and your army of house elves!"

"Gasp! How dare you! Earthling! You are nothing compared to my power! I could have you squashed and folded like spanakopita!"

"Stop it, you two!" snapped the head of Gryffindor house. Her voice sounded strained. "I will go find Harry, wherever he is, and bring him back here. Meanwhile, you two stay here, in the event that our headmaster returns."

"Returns?" Ron said. "You'd think if he was going to return anytime soon he might have left the lights o-" But the professor was already gone.

"Oh, why don't you shut up," said Hermione.

………………………………………………………………………………

Outside, Minerva sighed and smoothed her tight, silvery bun. Bloody children, she thought. Always bickering, and the next moment they're snogging each other. For God's sake, it's indecent.

……………………………………………………………………………….

Inside the pitch-dark office, Ron peered unsuccessfully at his hand. "Well, now we've done it." Hermione heard him sigh. "Where do you suppose the door is?"

"If you wish it, I can escort you," a snakelike voice hissed, sliding through the gloom. The two teenagers gasped and leapt into each other's arms.

"Oh no," whispered Hermione and Ron at the same time, and began snogging feverishly.

………………………………………………………………………………

Minerva was tired. The evening was certainly not going the way she'd have liked it to go. Indeed, it appeared to have no point whatsoever, and it was beginning to give her one grandmother of a migraine, which was very bad, because if she had had children she would have been a grandmother herself, and everyone knows that when grandmothers get grandmothers of migraines…Well, on second thought, maybe you don't want to know. She touched her temple delicately. Yes, she could definitely feel the beginnings of a very bad headache coming on. By the feel of it, she wouldn't get to sleep till four in the morning, even if she did have time to lay down at all. Why me, she asked silently.

Her conservative heels clicked on the stone floors. Why was it always so bloody cold in the castle during the winter, she thought. They could at least use a bit of magic to warm the place up; it wasn't as though you needed modern heating just to keep your blood flowing in a place like this. As she came to a stop in front of the Gryffindor common room, she adjusted her robes more tightly around her slim, arthritic body.

Well.

Here goes nothing, she thought with giddy determination.

She spoke the password and entered the portrait door. "Harry!"

………………………………………………………………………………..

Inside, Harry gasped as he heard the Fat Lady ask for a password. "Quick, my sweet! A foe approaches!"

Bobo the Hobo nodded frantically and scurried behind a large armchair, pulling on his ragged clothing. "Do you ever pause to think if a person is your friend or your fiend?" he said nervously from behind the large red, plushy sofa.

Harry sighed. "We must trust no one, my sweet. Our secret must remain safe!" He tossed his gin and tonic into the fireplace, and threw himself on the carpeted floor just as McGonagall entered the room.

"Harry!" she called.

Harry burbled as convincingly as he could on such short notice. Poo! He'd only just begun to really have some fun!

…………………………………………………………………………………

McGonagall stared in disapproval at the...thing squirming on the floor, noting the disturbing lack of, er, clothing. Her migraine began to pulse unpleasantly, and her lion of a temper began to stir in annoyance. Why her? Why?

………………………………………………………………………………..

Harry noted the disapproving purse of the lips. Oh, thank you, Pooh Bear, she believes me, he thought gratefully.

Then McGonagall whipped out her wand, and Harry stopped burbling in alarm.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

McGonagall whipped out her wand, and saw the thing's eyes widen suddenly. Good, she thought savagely. Let this be a lesson to you for not cooperating, you little piece of filth.

She raised her hand, a smirk of triumph on her lips.

……………………………………………………………………………………

Harry's thoughts raced feverishly. Oh shit. She's smirking. Why is she smirking? Why is she smirking? His heart began to race.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

McGonagall took a breath, preparing herself. Here we go, she thought.

…………………………………………………………………………………

Harry took a breath, preparing himself. Here it comes, he thought in despair.

………………………………………………………………………………….

"Swish and flick," McGonagall muttered.

haha. see, I'm laughing, you see? that was funny, wasn't it? wasn't that good? nod your head, please. yes, there we go, see, WASN'T THAT GOOD? see? haha. see, FUNNY. haha, very funny, ISN'T THAT SO. so review, IF YOU PLEASE.

hehe. i love my hobby.