Author's Notes: Dude, I didn't take several thousand years this time! BOO YA!

Nothing much to say, so I'll just add in some random words:

Gofer

Cartwheel

Mud

Pickle

Chew

I think that's good enough. Watching Scooby Doo. Fun stuff.

Chapter 7

The weekend had finally rolled around at Hogwarts and all the students were relieved. Well, all except Ron, who was forced to run naked around the grounds by the leaders of the SFOC (Shadowy figures of censorship), so they could test out their black boxes. Hermione, outwardly showing her disgust for his participation in the testing, would secretly hide in bushes, taking pictures with a muggle camera.

It was a perfect day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the kids were playing outside in the fields, and the goblin lawyers could be seen floating in the lake (Filch still hadn't gotten around to fishing them out…although they did make very lovely pink decorations). Our infamous trio, lead by the scar-headed Harry Potter, had just finished their breakfast and were heading out of the Great Hall towards the exit. As the three neared the huge oak front doors, Ron became increasingly nervous.

"Keep your eyes peeled for anything…fishy," He whispered conspiratorially, looking around franticly out of the corners of his eyes. Harry ignored him, used to this behavior coming from his best friend, walking towards the doors and reaching out the push them open.

"The eagle is landing…I repeat…the eagle is landing," The red head muttered into a walkie-talkie, watching Harry's actions closely.

"RON! COULD YOU STOP THAT! You KNOW that thing doesn't even work!" Hermione yelled out, frustrated. Harry might've been able to ignore Ron, but Hermione found it a little more difficult.

"She's onto us…I'm taking her down," He muttered into the useless object again, placing it back into his pocket calmly before doing a flying leap-tackle towards Hermione. Harry was able to avoid the tackle just in time, pushing open the door and stepping out. His two best friends continued to wrestle on the floor behind him as he jogged down the stairs and onto the front lawn of Hogwarts School, Hermione's fangs extending in preparation for attack. Good thing they remembered to cork them this morning while she was asleep.

"Hiya Harry!" A mousy-haired boy appeared out of literally no where, holding a camera in his hand.

"Hi Colin," Harry answered dully, looking around the grounds for someone to run towards before the kid annoyed the hell out of him.

"Can I get a picture Harry? Please? You never give me a picture…please can I have one? And a blood sample…perhaps a lock of hair…" He rambled on, skipping around Harry with his camera poised for attack.

"Maybe later…hey Dean!" Harry yelled, happy to see someone to talk to other then Colin, running towards his friend.

A strange, deep, demonic voice suddenly emitted from Colin's mouth. "Damn that Potter…always escaping my clutches just in time…one day I'll capture his soul in my camera…and the world will be MIIIIIIIIIINE!" He cackled, like those bad guys in really bad movies, seeping into the ground.

Harry stopped in front of Dean Thomas, grinning. "Hey Dean, what's up?" He asked casually, hands in his pockets.

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing! Why? What did you hear? Are people talking about me? I KNEW it! I always knew they all hated me…you're trying to kill me, aren't you Harry? AREN'T YOU? Tell me! Tell me!" Dean scrambled behind a nearby tree, eye twitching.

Harry just continued to stand there, smiling. "That's nice…"

"Package for a Mr. H. Potter," a guy in an owl costume stood behind Harry, a clipboard in one artificial feathered wing and a large brown parcel in the other.

"That's me," Harry turned to face the owl postman, taking the parcel from him and signing his name on the clipboard. "Want some crackers?" He asked with a smirk.

"Those are parrots, moron," he grumbled, turning on a heel and walking back to his owl post mobile. "Everyone's a comedian."

Harry watched the owl post mobile drive off down the drive, waiting till it disappeared out of sight before ripping one side of the brown paper open, painfully slowly, so as to make it all dramatic and stuff. Just then…once again at the most convenient time…Cho Chang burst onto the scene, holding her overlarge hanky in one hand.

"Oh HARRY!" She flung herself on him, hugging him in a death grip. "I'm…I'm just so DEPRESSED!" She shrilled hysterically, tears running down her face. "Life is just HORRIBLE Harry! HORRIBLE!" She shook him wildly, eyes wide and rimmed with tears.

Harry, once again, just stood there smiling, head lolling around with the force of her shaking. "That's nice…"

His un-sympathetic reaction and the lack of comforting snogs sent Cho into a rage, pushing him away and sending him reeling backwards. "YOU DON'T CARE, DO YOU HARRY! YOU NEVER CARED! I'LL JUST GO FIND PROFESSOR SNAPE! AT LEAST HE'S SENSITIVE!" she screeched, running back towards the school, her hands covering her face.

Harry continued on his way, ripping at his now-damp package, wondering what other surprises and neurotic people he would meet along the way. He finally tore away the last shred of paper, looking down at the roughly-carved wooden box in his hands.

"What the f-"

"-RIDAY!" Ron, with his oh-so-impeccable timing, ran up behind him, smacking him roughly on the back and causing the box to tumble from his grasp and into the air.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," Hermione screamed with a strangely deep, drawn-out voice, diving towards the flying box with a flourish. She tumbled to the floor, then jumped to her feet and raised the snitch triumphantly in the air.

"150 POINTS, GRYFFINDOR WINS!" Lee Jordan screamed into his microphone, hanging upside down from a nearby tree. Everyone cheered…except, of course, the Slytherins…and Harry, who was extremely confused.

"HEY! I'M SUPPOSED TO BE THE QUIDDITCH HERO!" He yelled, completely forgetting about the box.

"Oh grow up Harry, you don't even get to play Quidditch in the 5th book and we STILL win," Hermione huffed, letting the snitch go. "You're just jealous of my superior talents!"

Just then, Seamus, finally out of the Hospital Wing, spoke up. "Umm…was I the only one who noticed there were no brooms involved? And since there were no other players…no others balls…and Hermione was not airborne…it couldn't possibly be considered a Quidditch ma-"

"-SHUT UP FINNIGAN," all the onlookers screamed, throwing various objects at him, someone ultimately knocking the poor boy out with a grocery cart. So…once again…the smart one gets hurt in the end…and insanity reigns supreme. Oh the joys of Cola.

When the fight finally subsided several hours later, Hermione had tried to kill both Harry and Professor Flitwick, Ron had gone out for ice cream and was now lying under a tree with his stomach bulging, Harry had successfully used thirty different curse words to describe Hermione's arse, and Malfoy's heart finally grew…all thanks to Cindy Lou.

I shall not go into the details, because it is more comical for the reader to make up the fight in their heads, so there. Oh, and Malfoy's heart didn't stay that way for long, they figured out it was just heartburn and it was fixed in a matter of minutes thanks to the wonderful makers of Tums tablets…so no fear to Draco fans, he's still a git.

"Well this is all well and good, but I've got to wash this pie out of my hair," Harry grimaced, picking a piece of crust from his bangs, then walking over to his new wooden box and picking it up off the grass.

"TO THE COMMON ROOM!" Ron bellowed dramatically.

Harry and Hermione stared at him.

"Sorry, still in Batman and Robin mode," he explained.

"Well if you didn't notice, I'M batman…only I'm allowed to say that line," Harry gave Ron a searching glare, then turned on his heel and stalked off towards the main doors.

Ron pouted. "He always gets the good lines. And why do I have to wear the GREEN tights? They don't even match my hair!"

Stop talking to yourself you psycho.

Ron gasped. "Giggles! You evil little elf…"

Giggle.

"Stop tormenting me!" Ron cried.

Giggle. Not until you give me back my whistle.

"Ron? Who are you talking to?" Hermione blinked.

"Giggles! Don't you see her?"

But of course she couldn't, for you see, Giggles had already disappeared.

"Ron…you need help," Hermione shook her head, following the already long-gone Harry through the front doors.

"DAMN YOU GIGGLES!" Ron growled, running towards the doors after Hermione.

Giggle.

Later that evening Harry, Hermione, and Ron were seated together in front of the common room fire, talking about life, love, and how they get the caramel inside the Caramilk bar.

"I think it's dinosaurs…" Ron answered matter-of-factly.

"Now how does THAT make sense?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I dunno…it makes just about as much sense as this conversation," Ron shrugged.

Harry and Hermione agreed.

"So did you open the box yet Harry?" Hermione asked, looking at the wooden object lying by Harry's foot.

"Oh, totally forgot about it…" he replied, bending over to pick it up. Soft giggles could be heard from the corner.

"It's that damned elf again!" Ron exclaimed.

"Who? Dobby?" Harry blinked.

"No…it's Harry's fan club…don't worry Harry, just ignore them. They're harmless really…just give them a pair of your underwear and they're docile for hours," Hermione explained.

"My underwear?" Harry's eyes widened.

"Give it here Harry," Ron reached towards the box.

"…did you give them my underwear?" Harry continued to hold the box in his hands.

"Only a couple of pairs," Hermione shrugged once again.

"Just open it already!" Ron growled, getting impatient.

"Why my underwear? Why not a sock?" Harry asked.

"It just seemed right at the time!" Hermione huffed.

"OH, JUST GIVE IT TO ME!" Ron grabbed the box out of Harry's hands, opening the lid and peering in. His jaw dropped and a gasp of astonishment emitted from his open mouth…it must've been something REALLY amazing and terrible. "Harry…I-I…these…these are…"

Hermione growled with impatience and gave Ron a good open-handed smacked on the back of the head. "Just say it already! You don't have to add suspense in just for dramatic purposes EVERY time you speak." She rolled her eyes, getting ready to smack him again.

Ron continued as if he hadn't heard her…or felt the blow to his skull. "These…these are…CUBAN cigars!" The paintings around him gasped as Ron proclaimed this to the empty common room, picking one cigar out of the box and sniffing it.

Harry looked more then a little confused…as usual. "B-but…aren't these supposed to be magic cigars, or something? With, like, secret powers…so this story can actually develop a plot?"

"No you nitwit. Cubans! The best kind! And I'm not talking about the delightful refugees kept in basements…" He bit of one end of the cigar and lit the other end with his wand, stuffing the end into his mouth.

"How do you know so much about cigars anyway, Ron?" Hermione asked, watching him inhale deeply.

He exhaled a puff of thick smoke before answering. "Peer pressure's a killer."

"So…no adventure? No possible death for me? No acts of heroism by me? No parade for me?" Harry's eyes were wide and full of sadness…like a puppy's. A very Harry puppy. Ha! Get it? Harry puppy...hairy puppy...I made a funny!

"Don't worry Harry...someone will try to kill you eventually. It's only the first week," Hermione patted his back comfortingly.

Harry smiled through the tears…so brave. "Thanks Hermione, you always know how to make me feel better."

"Hey…enough with the sappy crap already…" Ron glared.

"Jealous," Harry stuck out his tongue, grabbing the box away from Ron. "So…what do we do now?"

"Go to bed I guess," Ron shrugged.

"Well this sucks royal a-"

"-pple," Ron interrupted.

"Censorship sucks, Ron," Hermione interjected, a disappointed look on her face. "Night Harry, sleep well."

"Night Hermione," Harry replied.

"Censorship does NOT suck! Or at least that's what the microchip inside my head tells me!" Ron yelled to her angrily, getting off his chair in front of the fire and stomping up the stairs to his dorm.

"My life makes no sense," Harry whispered to himself, following Ron's path up to their dorm.

That's right Harry…and it'll only get worse. Muahahahhhha!

Cough

This is the part where I say Harry tosses and turns in his bed, then wakes up from a particularly horrible dream that reveals a lot about the plot and gives away some foreshadowing. But, I'm not like other authors, so screw that…

"Haaaaaaarry."

Harry bolted up in bed at the sound of his name, breathing heavily. He peeked out of the heavy bed curtains, searching around the dark dormitory for the source of the noise. Unable to spot anything out of the ordinary…except Ron, who was sitting beside Harry's bed with a rifle lying in his lap, fast asleep…Harry closed the curtains around his bed again and lied back on his pillow, staring at the material of the canopy overhead.

Just as his eyes closed, Harry heard that strange, eerie sound again.

"Haaaaaaaaaaarry," it called to him, causing Harry's eyes to snap open, sitting up again and not moving, perking his ears to distinguish whether or not it was Cho trying to get into his bed again. This time the voice was closer, right beside his bed. It was a wonder the rest of his roommates couldn't hear it as well…oh the magic of selective hearing.

"Ebenezer Scroooooooge," Harry heard this time, quirking an eyebrow. He then heard a faint cough, and the clearing of a throat, and the ghostly voice spoke again. "I mean…Harrrrrrrry Poooootter."

Harry pulled apart the curtains again, coming face to face with…

"Dobby?" He whispered, causing the houseelf to squeak with fright.

"Harry Potter, sir, Dobby is most sorry, but this nice ghostly gentlemen said he wanted to see Harry Potter. And Dobby, being the obedient and unintelligent servant of the better and wiser population of earth, let him in, sir. Please don't be cross, sir…because, you see, I am only here to make more powerful and courageous and intelligent people happy," Dobby rambled while Harry sat there and blinked, betting on everything he was that Hermione had already gotten to Dobby, and that the elf was being sarcastic…no duh, Harry.

"Dobby…did you say you let a ghost into my room?" He interrupted, his eyes sweeping around the pitch black room but not able to spot anything.

Dobby looked a bit miffed at being cut off, but answered nonetheless. "Yes, oh great and powerful Harry Potter, sir. Dobby begged the ghost not to use the cliché ghostly 'name calling in the night' thing, but the ghost did not listen to Dobby…because Dobby is just a lowly servant and does not deserve to be listened t-"

Harry cut him off again, eyebrows furrowed. "Well then where is it? I don't see any- WAH!" He screamed as a transparent man in a tweed suit appeared directly in between Dobby and himself. The ghost screamed as well, his chains rattling and making a loud racket…and yet…surprise surprise…nobody else in the room woke up.

The ghost flipped Dobby a coin, waiting till the houseelf gave a very over exaggerated bow in Harry's direction and scurried out of the room, cackling madly.

"Hey," the ghost said to Harry in way of greeting, nodding his head.

Harry blinked, slowly raising an eyebrow in a comical fashion. "Hey?" He answered back, making it sound more like a question.

"What's up?" The ghost sniffed, floating around in between Harry's bed and the window next to it.

Harry opened his curtains wider, sitting cross-legged facing the ghost, back towards the closed curtains which Ron was sitting in front of. "Umm…sitting here talking to you…" He answered, chewing on his lower lip.

"Coo coo," the ghost replied, looking around the room casually.

"Umm…did you have a reason to be here…or is this a social call?" Harry asked, twiddling his thumbs.

The ghosts head snapped back to look at Harry, his eyebrows knit together as if in thought. "Oh yeeeeeeeah!" He slapped his transparent forehead, hand going right through. "Just gimme a sec," he coughed, clearing his throat and doing some face and voice exercises. "Ok…ready," he sniffed again, his hands extending straight out in front of him, the chains rattling. "Harrrrrrry Pottttttter," he began. "I am the ghoooost of your partner, Bob Marleyyyyy!"

Harry interrupted. "Isn't it Jacob Marley?"

The ghost shrugged, sniffing again. "Whatever…I am here to tell you to stooooop your selllllfish wayyyyyys-"

Harry interrupted again. "-Umm…I think you've got the wrong book/slash movie. I'm Harry Potter, not Scrooge. I like Tiny Tim. I gave him a cookie yesterday…"

"Harry Potter?" The ghost dropped his arms to his sides, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. "Are you the frog that's in love with that ugly pig?"

"That's Kermit," Harry replied. "And I actually think that pig's kinda cute…"

"Well, let's see here," the ghost mumbled, searching through a light blue tote bag. "Grandma's teeth…phone book…old piece of cheese…bone…oh, so THAT'S where my miniature Frodo doll went!"

Harry waited while the ghost mumbled to himself.

"Aha!" the ghost let out a triumphant cry, pulling out a rolodex and flipping through it. "Ok…let's see here…the Fonz…no, Reagan…Lincoln…Wishbone…Potter, Harry. Excellent. Says here you're a code 436 785 5."

"Ok…" Harry sat there, feeling very confused.

"So, let's try this again, shall we?" the ghost cleared its throat.

Harry waited patiently.

"Harrrrrrrry, you will be visited by threeeeeee ghosts…listen to them…learn their ways…remember the advice they give you…because it will be important later on in the stoooooory…oh crap, I just gave away the foreshadowing," the ghost sighed. "I was never good with secre-"

The ghost was cut off as another figure seeped through Harry's bed curtains.

"Harry…" Labored breath. "I am your father…" Labored breath. "Buy Kentucky fried chicken…" Labored breath. "Mmm Mmm good." Labored breath.

"Darth Vader?" Harry gasped, extremely happy…for you see, Harry was a star wars fan, but anyway. He was so happy he didn't even realize that the 'Mmm Mmm good' catch phrase is actually Campbell's soup, and NOT KFC. But whatever.

With more labored breathing, the ghost slipped off his mask, revealing…

"COLONEL SANDERS?"

"Sanders! I told you I'd beep you when I was done my whole three ghosts speech! WHY do you insist on interrupting my dramatic speeches EVERY TIME…EVERY TIME!" The first ghost shook his fist at the cool KFC dude…the fist of anger.

"Sorry…I dropped the beeper in the toilet…seeing as I'm not able to hold solid objects because I'm just a figment of Harry's imagination…"

"…DAMN IT! YOU RUINED THE FRIGGIN GHOST SEQUENCE! SCREW YOU SANDERS!"

"Ummm…sorry to interrupt…but I was kinda wondering if I'm ever going to get some sleep tonight," Harry piped up, his hands clasped in his lap.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't, seeing as Colonel Grease Chops over here is constantly ruining people's lives…" the unnamed ghost glared.

"It's not MY fault I got that free muffin basket and you didn't," the Colonel shrugged casually.

"You STOLE mine!" the ghost steamed.

"Hey! Dumb and dumber! Can you please just get to the point!" Harry yelled.

"Only if HE leaves!"

"Fine!" Colonel Sanders gave an exasperated sigh, disappearing with a 'pop'.

"Good…now what was I saying," the ghost pondered.

"…three ghosts coming to visit…" Harry urged.

"Right. Ghosts, visit, important info, buy chicken…Oh, my poem! I almost forgot!"

"Poem?" Harry raised a brow.

"Yeah…hold on, let me try to remember. Ok…"

The ghost cleared his throat, and then began to recite.

"In a place where life is sweet

With many things to see and eat

Where secrets will never be told

Below the wood, you'll find the gold."

Harry looked unimpressed. "That made no sense."

"Oh give me a break, it was really early and I had a paper due the next day," the ghost pouted.

"So…are you done?" Harry asked.

"Pretty much, yeah," the ghost replied.

"Good," Harry said. "Now go away."

"Geez, I thought you were supposed to be NICE," the ghost shrugged.

"Life has jaded me," Harry answered.

"Fine, I'm outtie."

"Wait! What if I need to get in touch with you?" Harry asked.

"Just whistle…you know how to whistle don't you? You just put your lips together…and blow into this!" the ghost then blew into a silver whistle.

Giggle.

"What was that?" Harry looked around., searching for the source of that giggle.

Damn that elf.

"I dunno..." the ghost looked around. "But I'm totally creeped out now."

"You're a ghost…" Harry blinked.

"So, doesn't mean I can't get scared. Ghosts were people once you know."

"Yeah, sleeping now," Harry closed the curtains around his bed, lying his head down and falling asleep in matter of minutes.

"Shot doooooown…" Neville mumbled in his sleep.

The ghost hung his head in shame, disappearing through a wall.

Ok, this has to be my favorite chapter so far. You better like it, cause I sure do. Lol.

Although, I kinda forgot how to write properly and kept sporadically putting capitals after quotations. Whatever.

AND PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE! SO I KNOW IM NOT WRITING THIS FOR NOBODY!

Cry Sob Wail

Yeah…shoutouts to all my new reviewers. And for my continuous reviewers…you are all officially cool. (That's means you Gred! Lol!)

sunflower seed- I don't golf…how bout cow tipping? And I don't know about that whole fur thing…cruelty to animals and such.

galaxysong9- No way! Lita all the way! Omg…I know the characters from Sailor Moon. Shoot me now.

Addy- Too many reviews to reply to, but I can say one thing: You make me laugh my ass off. I thought I was supposed to be the funny one?

Orca- Lol, thanks! I try…well…not really. I'm just insane.

backsplash007- You rock my socks. I write for people like you. Lol…and I constantly fall out of my chair…but that's from all the alcohol. I mean…don't drink and drive kids!

mELiNroZ- Wow, I had no idea. Makes sense though! Puts his daughter in every scene cause she can't actually act. So sad.

I was so going to write something else here, but I completely forget. Please don't mind any typos that may come up in this chapter. Really tired. Off to bed with me.