About owning Harry -- do I look like Rowling to you?

I hate the cold. I'm a very warm-blooded person. I need sun. So, yeah, winter basically sucks.

So staying outside all hours of the night to wait for two people to show up who probably won't is bad enough by itself. But in the cold? I'm miserable.

I hate you, J.K. I really do. Can't you make it warm for once? I mean, we're always playing Quidditch in the rain and the cold, and dementors don't make you warm, and --

And there's a very pretty animal. Huh. Look's like Harry's.

So, yeah, I'm an idiot. I follow the pretty shining patronus. But I'm not that much of an idiot. I let it get a head start. And guess who's following it? Yeah, it's Harry. Probably thinks it's pretty too.

Anyway, I'm following Harry who's following the doe. The doe's pretty. Did I mention that? And with the snow everywhere, it kind of makes everything glow. In a nice way. I lean against the tree, watching Harry.

J.K, here's the thing. Harry looks like an idiot. He really does. It's like watching a very bulky…bear. He must be wearing fourteen sweaters, and his black hair is sticking out in all directions. I have to try not to laugh, because, yeah, he really is funny-looking.

Until he starts stripping. I mentioned it was cold, right? Well, really, cold doesn't begin to cover it. It's frickin' freezing. Like you're constantly walking through Nearly-Headless Nick. So why Harry was stripping in this clearing really is weird. Harry usually doesn't strip, period…except for Ginny.

Sorry. It was a random thought. Blame Rowling, she made me.

I admit, I do nothing. It's fascinating to see someone with so little regard for cold. I half-wonder what he's going to do when he gets all the clothes off. Maybe dance under the full moon. Maybe he doesn't know wizards haven't done that for a couple hundred years. It'd be interesting to watch.

Okay, I know what you're saying. You're saying, "Ron, why are you watching Harry get naked instead of going to talk to him, you idiot!?" And my answer is -- would you like to talk to someone who's half-naked when it's cold? Oh, and the last time you talked, you kind of…yeah, you screamed. And walked out of them. Which you always swore you wouldn't do.

So Ron Weasley's a coward. Get over it.

Except…okay, Harry, I give up, what are you doing? J.K, you watching this? YO! He's jumping into a lake! And, yeah, he's done that before, but not when it's negative a billion outside! And he jumped in with only his boxers and the frickin' locket on! And…

No, no way. I think we just explained that Ron Weasley is a coward. He's not a hero. He would never risk his life for his best friend. Well, he might if it wasn't so cold. No, I won't do it. I won't.

Damn, I hate Harry.

So that's the story of how I ended up in this lake, freezing to death, still fully clothed (though Harry wasn't. Idiot.) I also found out that Harry wasn't committing suicide. He wanted a sword. Though, I admit, he might have wanted the sword to commit suicide, but…

Anyway, I hauled Harry out of that pond. I had to rip the necklace off first, then I had to get the sword, because Harry obviously wanted it. When I resurfaced, guess who was looking at me?

Well, it wasn't the doe, I can tell you that.

There's only a little more of the story left, so just hang with me. Harry was looking at me, and I always felt terrible whenever he looked at me with those eyes. So I kind of held out the sword (it was almost stuck to me. Remember the cold? It multiplied by a million when I was cold. I swear, my teeth were going to break from the chattering).

I gave Harry the sword, and I told him to put some clothes on, 'cause he looked cold too. Idiot. He shouldn't jump in freezing water.

And neither should I, J.K. Just a hint.

Yet another pointless chapter, though I would appreciate a review.