A/N: This is a short but funny one shot about Harry loosing a sock and Seamus loosing his mam.
Disclaimer: we own nothing… except the sock and the mam!
"WHERE'S MY SOCK!" Harry bellowed.
"Arg – what the… I don't know!" Ron mumbled sleepily.
"But WHERE IS IT?"
"I told you, I don't know! Why are you so worried about a sock, anyway?"
"It's my SPECIAL SOCK! My QUIDDITCH SOCK!" He cried, rummaging through his drawers.
"Well, what does it look like?" Ron was sitting up and yawning.
"It's pink with purple socks – I mean spots."
Ron stared at him. "Why do you have a pink sock?"
"I don't! What gave you that idea?"
"You just said it!"
"I said, it's pink with purple socks – I mean spots!"
"Meh. Same difference."
"DON'T YOU DISRESPECT THE PURPLE SPOTS!" Harry yelled.
"Ok, ok, sorry! Why don't you borrow one of my socks?"
"Awww, thanks! Now – where's my quill?"
"Oh no, it's happening all over again," Ron moaned.
"Whassat? What's going on?" Dean had woken up. He must have been sleeping very heavily to sleep through Harry's shouts. We think he was dreaming about a football match. Where people were screaming. So Harry just blended in to the background.
"I've lost my sock, and my quill!"
Simultaneously, Seamus and Neville woke up. We think Neville was dreaming about being told off by his grandmother, and because we've run out of noisy situations Seamus was dreaming about Neville being told off by his grandmother. Sorry.
"Oh," Seamus mumbled. He reached out to his bedside table. His hand groped around but didn't find anything. He sat up and looked all around it carefully. His eyes widened in horror.
"I'VE LOST ME MAM!" he cried.
"Why would your mum be on your bedside table?" Neville said curiously.
"How can you loose your mother?" Dean asked, sitting up and staring at him.
"Not me mother, me mam! A mother is a female parent, yes?" He sounded as if he were teaching a kindergarten class.
"A mam is a type of French handkerchief."
"A French handkerchief?" Harry repeated, stunned. "Wow, and I thought loosing a pink sock with purple spots was impressive!"
Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Ron opened it suspiciously, and saw Hermione there, holding a pink sock with purple spots and a pretty handkerchief in her hand. Both Harry and Seamus sprang up and jumped at her, snatching away their belongings.
"Did that mean old Hermione hurt you? Did it? Did it?" Harry cooed to his sock.
"No, I didn't hurt it. Thanks for letting me borrow it Harry, and thanks for letting me borrow your mam, Seamus."
"You borrowed his mother?" Neville asked, gazing at all of them in confusion.
"No! His French handkerchief!"
Neville stood up and gazed out the window.
"Er, Harry? After all this time trying to find your pink sock, I think you're late for quidditch."
"NOooooooooo!" Harry cried, and ran down to the quidditch pitch.
"Er - " Dean said, "Is he playing quidditch in his pyjamas or is it just me?"
A/N: How 'bout a review?