A/N: And so I attempt to write another chapter for Clown School. Let's see how long I last until my pseudo-ADD drags me away to eat cottage cheese or something.

I have no idea if I'm actually going to work a plot into this fic. If you're waiting around for that to happen, I'd advise not doing so. This might end up being a random episodic story.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH ENGLISH CLASS! NOT HUCK FINN AGAIN! NOOOOOOOOOO!

We had an essay prompt about how Huck Finn is an episodic novel. In case you were wondering about my spasm.

Disclaimer: I know this is going to come as a shock to you, but I'm not J.K. Rowling. ("You've lied to me for all this time! HOW COULD YOU?") Actually, I never made a claim to be J. K. Rowling. ("You so did!") Did not. You assumed, because you're deranged. ("DON'T CALL ME DERANGED! Dr. Josenblansky says that I'm improving.") I'm still not J.K. Rowling. ("WE ARE THROUGH, MISSY! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!") This is my house. You get out. ("… Oh. Well. I'M LEAVING! DON'T COME TO MY HOUSE!" :door slam: ) Right….

­The Gryffindors were gathered in the Common room, staring around at each other. Finally Percy, who had appeared from a hole in the wall, asked, "So, what year are we in?"

Everyone shrugged. Except Hermione, who launched into a longwinded explanation, "Well, that's difficult to figure out, isn't it? What with no classes and all. I mean, if we went off of who's here, it'd have to be third year. However, we're definitely not in third year, because Harry didn't have enough angst to brood in third year."

Everyone turned to look at Harry, who was brooding in a corner. "WHAT?" he shouted at them. "STOP STARING AT ME!" The author fought the urge to have him throw a vase at the wall and burst into tears. Everyone turned around quickly.

Hermione looked vaguely concerned, but plunged back into her highly necessary explanation. "And we don't know what classes, and therefore which year, we're in, because the clowns still haven't given us schedules. Now, if Harry's somehow in N.E.W.T. potions, we know that this is sixth year. However, if Ron and Harry are still in Divination, it must still be fifth year. And if there isn't any Quidditch, then we can assume that this is fourth, or possibly fifth year. It might even be seventh year, if we want to follow which books are out and to maximize the amount of brooding Harry gets to do."

No one was disconcerted whatsoever at Hermione's surprising knowledge of their lives or that they were chronicled in novels. It had probably come to her in a dream or something. Perfectly reasonable.

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain while we're still here," Percy said.

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Maybe you fell through a wormhole in time and are suddenly back in school," she suggested. "You did come out of that hole in the wall."

"Well what about us?" asked Fred.

"You're just that immature," Hermione snapped.

"Or you're the convenient humor device," suggested Ron. Fred and George high fived each other for no particular reason. They might have put Lee's tarantula in the girls' dorms. The world will never know.

Bill randomly fell from the ceiling. Everyone stared at him, and then started laughing. Everyone except for Harry. Harry was too busy brooding to laugh at comically impossible defiance to physics.

"Why am I back in school?" Bill wondered aloud.

"Dad says you're grounded," George said helpfully.

"Mom says you're disowned," Fred said.

Hermione glared at the twins. "We think there's a rip in the fabric of time and space," she explained.

"Oh, all right," Bill said, picking himself up off the floor. "Nothing unusual then."

A convenient thunderstorm appeared over Hogwarts. Meteorologists everywhere were baffled. Thunder struck conveniently close to Gryffindor Tower. The girls and several first year boys screamed. Harry, who was still brooding, was offended by the rain for some inexplicable reason and began scowling at the window. Everyone ignored him, which made him dig the Emo Hole deeper.

All the lights went out, which was weird, since Hogwarts didn't exactly run off of electricity. All of the first years went into hysterics. The older students hastily lit their wands with the Lumos spell. In the light of dozens of wands, most of the first years calmed down. Still, some needed to be given paper bags to breathe into.

Moments later, the lights returned, and the common room fire re-ignited itself. Normality was returned.

At least until the students looked around. At which point they noticed that there were suddenly quite a lot of people there that weren't before. Everyone's immediate thought was that it was a Death Eater attack, and the first years resumed their hysterics, joined by a handful of the weaker minded older students.

Suddenly Harry jumped up onto a table and bellowed, "MUM! DAD! SIRIUS!" This efficiently silenced everyone and they proceeded to take a better look around.

There were indeed Harry's parents, only recognizable because Harry did in fact look exactly like them. Also with them was Sirius, recognizable from the Ministry Wanted posters from third year. Harry threw himself off the table and into their arms.

"I guess there is a rip in the time-space continuum," Hermione said faintly, scanning the room.

Houdini was trying to impress some of the Gryffindors with the cup-and-bean trick. Each time they got it right he got more flustered, and they became more and more impatient with him. Giving up on that particular trick, he proceeded to pretend that he could take off the thumb of his right hand. He received more blank stares. Looking especially disturbed now, he took out some scarves and started juggling them.

"I thought you were supposed to be the best ever!" an uppity second year complained.

"Well in 1883 this was quite impressive! Snotty little brats!" Houdini shouted at her, and stormed off to brood in Harry's former Emo Corner.

There was a flash of lightning accompanied with its thunder. Some random World War II soldiers ducked instinctively. The lights went out again.

When they came back up, the room was bare of random people and filled only with the current Gryffindors. The author gave in to her urges; Harry burst into tears, threw a vase at the wall, and went back to brooding in the corner.

"Oh dear," Hermione said, looking at him, "I don't expect he'll recover from this emotional trauma for at least two chapters…"

"So why are they still here?" Ginny wanted to know, pointing at the twins. "Even Percy and Wood are gone. If Fred and George came through the hole in the continuum…"

"I guess they are so immature that they were sent back to school," Ron answered.

There was a loud sob from the corner. Everyone turned round in surprise to stare at Harry. He threw another vase at them.

A/N: Yay for brooding! If any of you are offended: shut up. If you get bored in between my updates (as I know they are dismally far apart) go look at my author's profile as I will have semi-regular blog-like entries that might at least tell you why I am not updating.