Harry And Ron Plot An Exorcism, a harry potter fanfic

-1Harry And Ron Plot An Exorcism But Who Knows Whether They Actually Do, As At That Point I Lose Interest In The Plot

Oh, this makes me chuckle. Enjoy. Oh, I don't own Harry or Ron etc. JK Rowling does bla bla bla. Just a bit of fun. One shot.

Harry and Ron were sitting in the Common Room, just lounging and feeling pretty damn cool. Ron especially. Breakfast just did that to him.

"Hey, Harry," he said, not really sure what he was going to say, he just wanted to say something and carry on looking cool.

"Yeah?"

"Uh." Ron blew his cool. He tried to recover it. "D'you feel like you're being watched?" He said mysteriously, looking shiftily around him. That made him feel really cool. He basked in his own coolness for a bit.

"No." Harry said, ignoring Ron, and carried on being the coolest person in the Common Room.

"I mean," Ron sprawled across the sofa. "I mean -"

"No, Ron. Uncool." Harry said sternly.

"Sorry." Ron said guiltily, going back to lounging coolly. He was pretty close to being really uncool there. Phew. Thank god for friends like Harry,

"Anyway," Ron said determinedly, knowing he had to get this sentence out pretty soon or else this fanfic would officially have a really long and dragged out introduction, rendering it officially awful. "What I mean, Harry, is that, has anything odd happened to you lately?"

"Well…" Harry said mock-thoughtfully. "There was that one run in with Lord Voldemort-"

"Smartarse."

"WHO WAS THAT!" Harry screamed, leaping to his feet.

"Harry, that's really uncool." Ron snickered.

"AND you scream like a girl."

"WHO SAID THAT?" Harry repeated, pointing around at everyone.

"Have you painted your nails?" Hermione asked Harry, looking at his hands with a very disturbed expression.

"And what if I have?" Harry pouted. "They look good like that."

"Queer."

"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SAAAAIIIIID TTHHHHAAAATTTTTT?" Harry spontaneously combusted, and half the Common Room cheered. Ron, however, fetched a dustpan and brush and swept his friend into a little plastic cup. Harry wouldn't be himself for a few days yet, but he could still talk.

"Has anyone else noticed odd snide remarks randomly throughout their normal day?" he said feebly, aware that he'd been totally uncool. Honestly.

"Yeah, that's what I meant." Ron told the cup of ashes, wondering what had gone so terribly wrong in his life so that he had ended up talking into a plastic cup on his free Saturday nights.

"They just keep coming all the time… anyone would… y'know…" Harry said weakly.

"Burst into flame?"

"Yeah."

"Of course."

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes.

"Anyway, we've got to get to the bottom of this." Ron said importantly.

"Yes."

"Hey, maybe it's a ghost." Ron said brightly,. Harry tried to slap Ron's head, but remembered he was a pile of ashes in a plastic cup.

"I don't think so."

"Maybe it's like, one of those things. Y'know. Those ones."

"EXPLAIN!" Harry screamed. He was pretty touchy today. Actually, he'd been pretty touchy ever since he fell in love with himself and simultaneously stuck his head up his own arse so far he was eating his food twice.

"We can have an exorcism!" Ron was getting to the hyperactive, bouncy stage of enthusiasm. "As soon as you're… better."

"Give it a few days."

"Ok, a few days."

"Yeah."

"Cool."

And so continued the usual inane conversation.

NOTE: Ok, couldn't really be arsed to finish this, but the mysterious voice is … well, not me exactly, but my spirit come to torment Harry :P He continues to irritate me. But I love him really. Sort of. When he's not angsting.