AN: A little story I thought up that didn't really deserve a full fic to itself. I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the dialogue from a certain British show that you may see here. An internet cookie to those who figure it out without searching online.

Harry's bout of insanity

Harry Potter was mad. He was furious. He was scared. Not a few days prior he, against his will, had been entered into the Triwizard Tournament. A tournament so deadly it had been cancelled due to the insanely high death rate. And on top of that, his former best friend Ron was being a pillock, while all the other houses were in the belief that he was attempting to steal the glory from Cedric. In his frustration he had taken to pacing in the Gryffindor common room, while his remaining friend Hermione read quietly on a nearby table. They had spent the day researching the rules of the tournament for any way out, and they retired to the common room to think up a plan.

"Hermione?"

"Yes Harry?"

"This is a crisis." Harry declared solemnly. "A large crisis. In fact if you've got a moment: it's a 12 story crisis, with a magnificent entrance hall, carpeting throughout, 24 hour portage, and an enormous sign on the roof saying "This is a Large Crisis". Hermione nodded in baffled acceptance of Harry's description. "Now a large crisis requires a large plan. Get me 2 pencils, and a pair of underpants."

The next day, the residents of Gryffindor tower were subject to the utterly ridiculous sight of Harry Potter with 2 pencils shoved up his nose, eraser end first, with a pair of girly panties on his head.

"Will you at least tell me what on Earth you hope to achieve from this Harry?" Hermione sighed as she gave her friend a look that asked the very same question.

"It's simple Hermione, we tell the judges I've gone insane, and they'll have no choice but to deem me not medically fit for the tasks, meaning I'll be out of this tournament before you can say 'awubble'." Harry's wide smile spoke volumes of his confidence in his plan. "A poor gormless idiot."

"Harry, I doubt this is the first time someone's tried to get out of the tournament this way."

"Ah, but they've never said 'awubble'." Turning to face the gaggle of people who had surrounded them, Harry said "Go on, ask me some simple questions."

Most of the crowd was a little uncomfortable, but Fred(or George) called out "What is your name?"

"Awubble!" A few of the first and second years giggled, and everyone started to relax and even started calling out questions.

"What is 2 plus 2?"

"Oh, awubble wubble."

"Where do you live?"

"Little Whinging."

"Huh?" The crowd exclaimed, honestly surprised by the completely normal answer.

"A small village on Mars, just outside the capital city: Awubble." The crowd burst into laughter, even Hermione cracked a smile. The mood quickly sobered when Ron came down the stairs. It was common knowledge by now that Ron and Harry were no longer on good terms.

"Alright Harry?" Ron asked, but going from the venom dripping from his words, it was clear he couldn't care less. "You all ready for your next big interview?"

"Not quite Ronald." Harry's negative response drew Ron's eyes back to him, and Ron actually looked at his friend properly instead of the glance he had given him that told him he was in the room. The look on Ron's face was one of pure bewilderment. "I'm just off to Hartleypool to buy some exploding trousers."

Stuttering for a moment Ron eventually made out a "Have you gone mad?"

"Yes Ron I have, cluck-cluck, jibber-jibber, my old man's a mushroom etcetera. Now, go and tell the Professors that I have gone insane, and will not be able to take part in any major events for the rest of the year."

"Bu-but-but what about the tournament, you won't be able to compete!" Ron yelled out agahst.

"Yes, very bad luck, beep."

"Right-"

"Beep." Harry interrupted.

"Hermione," Ron said turning to face her "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Papaaa."

"Whatever you do, don't excite him." With that last show of concern, Ron ran out of the portrait hole in search of the professors.

Watching him go and then pulling the pencils from his nostrils, Harry dryly said "Fat chance." This opened up the floodgates for everyone in the room, as the laughter they had been holding in during him and Ron's exchange burst free. For 10 minutes they giggled and rolled on the floor until their sides had split.

Surpisingly enough the plan did indeed work, and Harry was given leave of the tournament for reasons of insanity. And they all lived happily ever after. Until Voldemort came back, but for the time, they were happy.