Chapter Eight – Insert Title Here. Eventually. Maybe. Erm. Right. Whatever.

(A/N: You know, my Internet connection is REEEEEEEAAAAAAALLLLLLYYYYYYYY annoying. I mean, seriously. So okay, I installed Norton Internet Security today, and it said I had to restart my computer for the settings to take effect. And at that time, the connection was working fine. So then I restarted my computer, and then the Internet WASN'T WORKING AGAIN!

Also, both my computer and Internet router and immune to death threats already. It doesn't work. I've tried. Multiple times.

Well, for those few of you who do actually enjoy this story, I guess you should thank it. Because if it was working, I probably wouldn't be typing this. My connection working is now rather a rare thing, you know.

And if there are more of you who enjoy this story than I think there are, then please review so I am aware that you are actually reading this and enjoying it so I might just update faster. Positive reviews are quite encouraging, you know.)

Last time…

'He thinks this door's locked,' whispered Hermione, rather stating the obvious.

Harry finally noticed Neville tugging on his robe. 'What, Neville?'

He pointed.

And when Harry looked, he suddenly knew why Dumbledore had warned everyone to stay away from the third floor corridor.

Standing less than five feet away from them, there stood a large, growling, angry, ferocious, furious, humungous, enormous, livid, huge, dangerous-looking, really big fuzzy pink rabbit.

Hermione screamed.

Harry whipped around and reached for the door handle – between Filch and death, he'd take Filch. Ron got there first, however, despite the fact that Harry had been closer in the first place, and yanked the door open and ran out without even checking to see if Filch was there or not.

Well, if Filch or Mrs Norris were there, one of them would have bound to have seen Ron by now. Following this logic, Harry decided they were pretty much doomed if they were there (and if they weren't, then it was safe to go out anyway), and quickly followed Ron, Hermione and Neville at his heels. Hermione slammed the door shut – just in time, as they could hear the rabbit slamming itself against the door only moments later.

Harry glanced at the end of the hall. Ron was already halfway down the corridor and still running. Harry hurried to catch up, looking behind to make sure Hermione and Neville were following.

When Harry reached the end, however, he remembered that the dungeons were down the other way, not where Ron was headed. He waved a quick goodbye to Hermione and Neville, and sprinted down to the left and down the stairs to the dungeons. He reached the wall, whispered 'Calx pur sang astrum', briefly wondering why they couldn't make the password shorter, and practically leapt inside when the hidden stone door slid open.

He collapsed into a chair and stayed there, breathing heavily. When he calmed down a bit more a few seconds later, he sat there, thinking. He was so going to give Malfoy a piece of his mind when he got up there, oh man, Malfoy was so dead, Malfoy was going to be expelled, he was going to kill Malfoy slowly and painfully, he was going to throw Malfoy off the top of the Astronomy Tower…

Harry decided not to, because he wasn't sure whether they had the death penalty or not in the wizarding world and he certainly didn't want to get killed anyway, after that narrow escape from death in the first place from that horrible REALLY BIG FUZZY PINK RABBIT. He shuddered, and tried to think of other things.

Like, for example, how tired he was, and the fact that he had class in the morning. Harry sprang up and quickly jogged up the stairs to the first-year boy's dormitory.

He quietly opened the door and crept inside, slowly shutting the door behind him. He glanced briefly over at Malfoy's bed, but resisted the temptation to go wake him up and toss him out the window. Malfoy would, after all, make a lot of noise, when or if he discovered Harry trying to toss him out the window, which would wake everybody else up. And Blaise was nice, and Theodore Nott probably had nothing to do with it, and Crabbe and Goyle couldn't help being so stupid. Or maybe they could. Harry wasn't sure. Either way, it was only for the sake of Blaise and possibly Theodore that he didn't wake Malfoy up and toss him out the window.

Harry was so going to get him tomorrow, though. He thought. Hmm. If he got up early enough, he might be able to wake up before Malfoy did and possibly toss him out the window – or any window, actually, Harry wasn't all that picky – while everyone else was down at breakfast. And maybe before Malfoy did anything else to him, because he wouldn't put it past him to do so.

It was only when Harry woke up the next morning (before everyone else, and I do mean everyone else) that he discovered/realised/remembered that he was in the dungeons, and there were no windows. And all the windows everywhere else were in plain view of everyone else, and he didn't want to be convicted of a crime and get sent to jail or something. Even if they had colour TV. Oh wait, they didn't have television in the wizarding world…well, he definitely did not want to get sent to jail, then.

Since he was up anyway, he figured he might as well perform his morning necessities/routine and get down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Transfiguration was first, and Malfoy probably wouldn't try anything under Professor McGonagall's nose, so Harry would have time to think of a plan to exact revenge.

Quickly and quietly, he got out of bed, made it neatly, brushed his teeth, took a quick shower, tried and failed to comb his hair so that it looked even slightly more presentable, got dressed, gathered his things for the day, washed his face, and left the room – not in that order. The author just typed them in off the top of her head, because she doesn't have much of a morning routine. And if she did have a routine she wasn't aware of, it definitely wasn't in the morning, except on school days, but school was out for the summer holidays, so she wouldn't have to worry about that until September, so go her.

And now, let us get back on topic.

The common room was empty. Harry checked the bulletin board (and he still remembered that the notices were affixed with Blu-Tak™), found nothing new, except that they now used Blu-Tak™ White to stick the notices to the board.

Humming merrily, because he couldn't whistle, he made his way down to the Great Hall and found it quite empty. Not completely empty, because there was a teacher or two in there, several students at the Ravenclaw table, and two older students at the Slytherin table. The Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables were entirely devoid of people. Harry checked his watch. It read six forty-two in the morning. Had he really gotten up at six today? After going to bed at past two o' clock yesterday?

Trying to ignore the curious stares of the Ravenclaws and the scowls of the two Slytherins, he sat down a little ways away from the only students at his House table, reaching for a piece of toast and looking around for the butter. After a quick search down the far end of the table, he turned up nothing that even remotely resembled butter.

He looked down the other end, where the other Slytherin students were sitting, and spied the butter. It was sitting oh-so-innocently next to someone's elbow. Harry sighed, and looked down at his toast. He only ever enjoyed his toast if it was buttered, because buttered toast was good. Is good.

Harry sighed again, put down his toast, and tentatively made his way over to the two Slytherins. They looked up as he approached, one with curiosity, one with disdain. Well, both with disdain, really, but one more so than the other.

'Er…could I have the butter, please?' Harry asked politely. They just looked at him. Harry began to get slightly more nervous than he already was as they stared. He opened his mouth, but closed it again. 'Er…' Harry opened his mouth to ask for the butter again but decided he'd better not repeat himself too much, and closed it once more.

'Oh just take the butter already and spell your mouth shut, you look like a fish,' snapped the younger one, pushing the butter towards him.

'Er, thank you,' said Harry quickly, took the butter, and made his way back to his own seat.

He sat down to enjoy his breakfast. Ah, buttered toast, the finest of all breakfast delicacies. He buttered his toast slowly, carefully, methodically, making sure every inch of toast was covered with at least some butter. When he was finished, he put his knife down and bit into his toast.

Mmm, buttery…

Harry finished his buttered toast and sighed. One good piece of buttered toast already finished. Well, who was to say he couldn't have another? It was only just the one more, after all…Harry reached for another piece of toast, buttered it, and started on it again.

When he was about halfway through and already looking wistfully at the rest of the toast, the two Slytherins got up walked over to him. Harry didn't notice, trying to find a substitute for buttered toast. Eggs, maybe? Bacon?

He jumped when one of them touched his shoulder. He looked beside him. The older student was sitting right next to him.

'You got guts, kid,' he muttered. 'Not many first-years would ask a fifth-year anything, even if it is just butter. Name's Marcus Flint. I'm captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. You can call me Marcus,' he introduced himself, holding out a hand for Harry to shake.

Slytherins must really like hand-shaking, Harry mused, shaking Marcus Flint's hand. And apparently they don't grin much either.

'Heard about the incident with the Remembrall at your flying lesson,' Marcus continued. 'You did save a Gryffindor, but I hear your flying skills are excellent. Ever flown a broom before?'

Harry shook his head.

'Then you're a natural, Potter. I'd like to see an example of your flying. You don't have detention or anything today, do you?' Marcus inquired.

Harry shook his head again.

'Good. Get to the Quidditch pitch at lunch. You do know where that is, don't you?'

'Er…yes, I think so,' said Harry, thinking he was getting a bit repetitive with the head-shaking.

'Good, see you at noon. Oh, and the plates refill themselves, by the way.' And with that, Marcus left.

Harry shrugged and reached for another piece of toast.

More students began streaming in to the Great Hall, beginning at around seven-fifteen. Harry didn't take much notice of them. The plate had already refilled itself once, and he wasn't getting sick of the excellent toast anytime soon.

Pansy Parkinson entered the Hall and sat down at the Slytherin table. Looking around for something to eat, she spotted Harry, who did, admittedly, have an egg on his plate, but was ignoring it. Instead, he was concentrating on the toast.

Parkinson screamed. 'CARBS!' she yelled, running from the Hall.

Harry stared.

Parkinson ran back in, grabbed a boiled egg, and ran back out.

Harry stared.

Harry shrugged.

Harry resumed his eating of the buttered toast.

As he ate, though, he was thinking of what Pansy Parkinson had screamed before running out of the Hall the first time. 'Carbs', she had said. What did that mean?

Oh well. It didn't particularly matter that much, right? Unless…was she talking about the toast he was eating? She had been staring directly at him prior to screaming and escaping. But then, toast wasn't carbs. Toast was toast.

Malfoy entered the Great Hall and sat down where Parkinson had been before. He ignored Harry, who in turn ignored him. Sort of.

Harry needed a weakness, something that he could exploit and/or blackmail about. Hmm. He tried to discreetly observe Malfoy for anything he could use, but Malfoy seemed to feel Harry's eyes on him, and looked up. Before he could see Harry looking at him, though, Harry was crunching innocently at his forty-third piece of toast. Or maybe it was his fiftieth. Harry didn't know. He had long since stopped counting. Harry had a notoriously short attention span. Much like the author, actually.

Now Blaise came in, and sat down an equal distance away from both Harry and Malfoy. That must mean he's still maintaining neutrality, Harry thought. And I have a rather impressive vocabulary for a kid of a mere eleven years. Maybe it's like, you know, that comic, Calvin and Hobbes. Calvin's only six and he has a really big vocabulary. He uses words I don't understand. I liked that strip with the thing, the fish, and all that. That was really funny. And you know, I have a really short attention span.

Harry was glad he'd realised he had a really short attention span, because it was a good thing to know his strengths and weaknesses. That's what evil villains never did, they always overestimated themselves. Honestly. That's why the good guys always won. Evil villains are pretty stupid, Harry mused. Yeah, that's pretty convenient for me that way.

Harry suddenly realised he'd been staring at Malfoy for the past two minutes. Malfoy was looking at him oddly. Harry gave him a little (fake) smile and a wave. Malfoy looked unnerved, scowled, and looked away.

Harry grinned in victory.

That rabbit actually wasn't quite so bad, Harry thought idly as he stirred his cereal. Quite an adventure. Wouldn't mind another one, in fact. Not much to do around here except homework, really. Well, that and avoid all the ghosts and trick stairs and things, not get bitten by anything in Herbology, try not to get detention with Filch, go to class, do homework, stay up all night doing homework, not get burned by anything in Potions, not get in the way of anything in any other class like Charms, Transfiguration, or Defence Against the Dark Arts, and…have adventures.

Er. Right.

Harry broke off from his thoughts at looked down at his cereal. It was now soggy cereal. Harry sighed and put his spoon down.

Transfiguration first, was it…Harry checked his timetable. Yes, it was. Harry yawned, shoved his timetable into his bag, and set off for the Transfiguration classroom.

(A/N: Quite a short chapter, isn't it? Trouble is, I get major writer's block – maybe even more than usual, if that's possible – every time I try to think of something to write next. Could just a be a normal writer's block thing, or it could be that I read too many fanfictions with chapters that end with something like that.

Oh yes, and the large, growling, angry, ferocious, furious, humungous, enormous, livid, huge, dangerous-looking, really big fuzzy pink rabbit…after I wrote that one, I was debating with myself whether to keep it or not. So I'm going to do another vote. This might qualify as 'interactive', but it doesn't really concern the story, looking at it from a person-in-denial's point of view, so HA. Anyway, it's more like having the readers solve a dilemma for the author, right? Yes, let's take that route.

So anyway. It isn't really a spoiler this time, this one. So, tell me, would you rather have me keep the large, growling, angry, ferocious, furious, humungous, enormous, livid, huge, dangerous-looking, really big fuzzy pink rabbit, or is that too silly for you? I get the feeling you're all going to vote for the dog.

Or maybe, not the dog. If you don't like the rabbit OR the dog, then maybe you can suggest something else. Well, thanks for your input, anyway, if you're going to vote.

Ah, can't believe I almost forgot this one. The obligatory review thing.

Review and I will be very happy. Because reviews make people smile. Especially good reviews. Because good reviews are encouragements to update. Also, good reviews are incentive for the author you are giving the review to to update. Quick. Or actually, well, maybe at least just quicker than she probably would have if you hadn't reviewed. But that's better than nothing, right?)

I'm going to go for a new format in review responses. I get the feeling the last style was a bit hard to read.

Serpent of Light: Yet another wonderful review from a wonderful reviewer! (cheers)

Yeah, I checked, Word doesn't spellcheck things in capitals. I guess Bill Gates foresaw something with acronyms, or whatever. Actually I was fiddling with spellcheck at the time, and I stumbled across it. Or maybe it was the AutoCorrect thing. Can't remember.

…Yep. So about that Malfoy thing…I actually hadn't thought about that much. I'm writing as I go along. I have no sense of organisation. You should see my room. I've got three desks, actually two of them are sort of combined, and all of them are a total mess. The only clear space is in front of the computer, and that's only because I need to use it. Anyway, back on topic. I was originally maybe going to do the thing where Ron waits a while, then becomes friends with Harry again, but then…would it actually be more or less Ron-like to hate Harry even more, and assume Harry set it up?

Concerning Neville, don't worry, I'll try to add some more of him in, if you want. :)

And yeah, I thought maybe I could have changed the chase scene less like canon. Looking back, maybe I should have just let them get caught, and see where that would lead. But then, I've read on an author's profile somewhere, can't remember which one, that going back and changing something in your fic is like trying to cover up your mistakes. Covering up your mistakes, it's like saying, 'Look at me, my fic is perfect, and I most DEFINITELY do NOT make ANY mistakes in it!' but perhaps without the excessive capitalisation. :D

I have no idea what you're talking about on the congratulations on my grades, though. Please elaborate. I have a really bad memory. I may have said that before, but I have a really bad memory, so I wouldn't remember. :D

Oh, and one last thing…I just have to commend you for your excellent taste in fanfiction. Except, possibly, mine. With such other great stories and authors on your favourites list, I can't quite fathom why I'm on it, of all people. I think my own favourite stories list is not going to have much more space left if I keep going through your favourites list and adding stories on there to my list.

LiLy MaLfOy13: Thanks!

High Serpent King: Unnecessary cliffhangers are fun. Haven't you ever tried one? Cliffhanger are always fun, though maybe only when you're the one writing them. Otherwise they're not so fun. And then you have to bombard the author with reviews to get them to update. Hint hint. ;)

I am being lame on purpose…I ask for suggestions for chapter titles, and then I pick something totally random the reviewer may have added in, like that little cyber drumroll from Serpent of Light, and then I make that the chapter title. Or something related. Or maybe unrelated to you, but related to me. Kind of complicated. :P

That's it for review responses. On an end note, that just reminded me, I need another suggestion for a chapter title. I have real issues with chapter titles. Maybe you should just start expecting, and start brainstorming, maybe, as you read. :)

I had something else I wanted to say that I thought of while I was typing up review responses, but I can't remember now. Might add that in later if I remember.