Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling's Mind, with the exception of the plot.

R&R!

"Out of NOWHERE!" Harry said, raising his voice in a quiet manner and jumping up on his bed. "This bouncy ball came hurtling toward me! This big red bouncy ball the size of our beds!"

Several of the boys exchanged befuddled glances.

"A bouncy ball?" some one asked.

"Yes, a bouncy ball," Harry concluded. He nodded his head confidently and smiled like a fool, as if he were some great and terrible hero who had faced down a monster.

"There's more to the story, right?" Neville asked, this time asking himself instead of throwing his voice.

"Of course there is," Harry said and sat back down, blushing slightly.

"Well then?"

"Right," Harry said and then cleared his throat. "Common sense made me dodge out of the path of the ball and I watched it continue its disastrous path down the side walk." Seamus opened his mouth, about to argue with the term "disastrous" being used for a bouncy ball, but then promptly shut it when Ron glared at him. "Moments after the ball had disappeared behind several buildings, none other than Severus Snape comes running down the side walk, seemingly chasing the ball."

Everyone was silent as this image formed in their minds. Humorous of all was probably Neville's imagery, due to his third year encounter with the Bogart, which everyone should know turned into Snape and then appeared to be wearing the clothes of Neville's grandmother. Just the thought of Snape chasing a large bouncy ball and trying to hold onto the vulture hat was enough to satisfy Neville for several years.

But now then, back to Harry's tale.

"Once he had disappeared behind the buildings as well, I stood up out of the street," Harry said, starting to swing his legs as he talked, glancing off at the ceiling. The perfect picture of a little gir—WAIT! Boy. That's what he is. Boy. Honest. "Of course, being the Boy Who Lived, every car swerved to avoid my body. They understood my importance." All of the boys nodded their heads. It made sense, of course. If he survived Voldemort, why should jumping into the street and then staying in the usually busy London traffic be hazardous? It wouldn't be, of course. Duh.

"But that was the least of the strange events that filled my day," Harry said softly, looking around the room, fixing on each face momentarily as if predicting their deaths, but he wasn't. That was Trelawny's job.

As he scanned the faces of everyone, Harry noticed some one was sleeping…and picked up a pair of socks, chucking them at the sleeping boy.

"Oye! Wake up!" Harry scolded. The boy twitched slightly, rolling over.

"Sod off," he mumbled and buried his face in a pillow.

Harry started to pout and turned to look at Ron.

"No worries," Ron said, jumping off of his bed and stretching his arms. "I'll take care of him." With that, Ron stomped off over to the bed with the sleeping Gryffindor boy. Everyone watched carefully as Ron jumped on top of him and started slapping him, pansy style. "Get up, pansy boy! Get up and listen to the Great One's story! Or ELSE!"

The boy batted at Ron franticly and then pushed him off. "Alright already!" he yelled, red faced and panting. "Bloody 'ell! You're both nutty!"

Ron glared at him for a minute and then shrugged. "Yeah, I know that already."

"Now that everyone is awake," Harry said scornfully. "I suppose I shall continue." He sighed and looked around. "Wait, where was I?"

"Erm, somewhere like 'the least of the strange events that filled my day' I believe," Seamus supplied.

"Oh, right," Harry said. "Thanks Seamus."

Seamus beamed.

"So once out of the road, I started walking down the side walk again, determined to get to the Dursleys before nightfall…"