A/N: Dudes, hola. I know it's been a really long time since I've updated, but I haven't been in a Fanfiction mood. I'm sorry, but here it is! You also may be wondering what the "SFF's Note:" is . . . well, I changed my pen name from strongshol to Shoe Frog Fly and back, so just think of it all as "A/N:" . . . also, Charged Battery Bunny is really redireas (and by the way, go read her stories, they rock my sox . . . all the way.), and that is my author's note.

Disclaimer: Haha. I wish I owned Harry and Hermione. But, I don't. So there. However, I do own Papa Field. Now. R&R.


Chapter 5: Papa Field

"NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" cried Harry, Hermione, and Ron simultaneously.

"What, my dears!" asked Mama Field, who was very concerned. "All I said was, 'He lives on Privet Drive – Number 5 Privet Drive.'"

"NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" cried Harry, Hermione, and Ron simultaneously.

"Darlings! Get a grip!" Mama Field said forcefully and angrily. "What is so wrong with that?"

Harry, who could barely stand, yet alone speak, pushed Hermione forward to explain. Hermione found it hard to explain, because they all were afraid of Harry's aunt and uncle.

"Mama, Harry, here, well . . . you see . . . Harry's parents, er, passed away when –"

"Oh, come off it, Hermione," said Ron. "They were bloody killed!"

"My dear!" said Mama.

"Yes, ANYway, Harry's guardians, a.k.a. his aunt and uncle, live at Number 4 Privet Drive, and they didn't treat Harry very well," finished Hermione.

"Well! I wonder if Papa Field knows them. What are their names, Harry, honey?" asked Mama Field.

"Vernon and Petunia Durs–"

"OH!" exclaimed Mama so loudly that Ron peed in his pants. "Oh, Papa speaks so fondly of them. Apparently he invites them over for tea all the time . . . I, for one, think that he fancies Petunia."

At this point, Harry was doing his best not to vomit all over Mama Field's floor. The look on his face, however, did not hide that one bit. Harry's face was as green as broccoli, and his tongue was hanging halfway out of his mouth.

"Is there something I can do for you, Harry, dear? You look a tad sick." Mama asked Harry, who only shook his head, his tongue wagging like a dog's tail.

"Harry, maybe we should leave. Ron doesn't seem to feel so great, either," said Hermione, pointing at Ron.

Ron was in a state of shock. His face was pale and his body stiff. He seemed to have been hit by the petrifying hex. He was as stiff as a board, lying on the pink and flowery couch in Mama Field's living room.

"Well," Hermione began, "maybe we should leave now. We seem to be taking up your time."

"Yes, I think that might be best. For you see, I have a bridge tournament in approximately 8.33256489522026566 minutes. I hope you had a lovely time, and I wish you the best of luck in your . . . er . . . search for Marshall Field. Take care, my chillens," said Mama.

Hermione had used her magical powers to make Harry and Ron better, and they bid Mama farewell. Once they were outside, they burst into conversation.

"Number 5 Privet Drive!" exclaimed Harry.

"Now, Harry, this will make it easier for you. . ." began Hermione.

"What! No, it won't! We risk being caught by my aunt and uncle. AND, we can't let Papa Field who we are, or Vernon and Petunia will know what we were up to!" Harry replied. He was very distraught with the situation.

"But . . . but . . . but . . . but . . ." babbled Ron. "Hermione? I gotta pee. . ."

"Shush, Ron," said Hermione. "Harry, this will make it easier for you. We can disguise ourselves, and then you can slip quietly back into your room . . . then, you can e-mail Mr. Marshall Field and tomorrow we can rescue him! What do you think?"

There was a long pause while Harry, Ron, and Hermione all contemplated the situation in which they were situated. Then a very unhappy Ron exclaimed, "BLOODY 'ELP ME, DUMBLEDORE, I GOTTA PEE!"

"RON!" cried Harry and Hermione.

"WHAT!" replied Ron.

"DO YOU REALLY NEED TO ANNOUNCE THAT TO THE WHOLE WORLD?" asked Hermione.

"WELL, YES! I GOTTA GO!" answered Ron.

"Ron?" asked Harry softly. "Look where you're standing. Yes, now look behind you." Right behind Ron was a very clean Port-a-Potty.

"Yes!" cried Ron, who ran into the Port-a-Potty. He was in there for approximately 7.326549845123455974123 minutes. When he returned, he wore a very relieved look on his face.

"OK. Let's go," said Harry.

Hermione turned a very long stick into another unauthorized Portkey, and they were on their way.


They arrived at Number 5 Privet Drive and noticed that the Dursley's car was not in the driveway. Harry was delighted to see that, and his spirits lifted a little bit. He knocked on the door.

When Papa Field answered the door, he was surprised to see three kids standing on his doorstep. "Whaddya want?" he asked roughly.

"Well, we have a friend of a friend, who is buried in a grave and can't get out. We believe this person is your son. His name is Marshall Field," said Hermione.

"Oh. Ahh. Hmmmm. Ooooooo. Well," replied the man. "First off, I'm Papa Field, and yes, you guess right. Marshall is my son. I have a few questions before we discuss my son's future. First, how did you know I lived here? And secondly, what are your names?"

"Hermione Granger," said Hermione.

"Ron, and do you have a bathroom?" said Ron.

Papa Field grunted and pointed down the hall. Ron nodded his thanks and sprinted down the hall.

"I'm Harold Pottly," said Harry.

"Wow! You look just like my neighbor's son – er – nephew, I think!" said Papa.

"Oh!" said Harry who was pretending to be Harold Pottly. "Well, I'm not him, if you're wondering. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions."

"Oh, sure! Please, call me Papa, too." said Papa.

"Thank you," said Hermione. The 3 entered the house as Ron exited the bathroom.

"Now, what did you want to ask me?" said Papa.

"Wellll," said Hermione, who continued on with the questions that she wanted to ask Papa.

After she was done, she looked at Harry, who asked the final question.

"Now, Papa, I want you to take this last question seriously . . . no . . . look at me, Papa, and take this question very seriously. Where is Marshall Field's grave!" said Harry.

"Oh. Is that all you wanted to ask me? Well, it's at 256 Private Drive. And, if that's all you wanted to know, you can leave."

"OK, bye!" replied the three children.

And with that, they returned home.


A/N: Wow. This was a really really really really really bad chapter. It wasn't funny and it had no point. OK, well, please review anyway and give me suggestions anyway, thanks. I hope the next chapter is better.