Voldemort was dead…Harry was being crowned King of Narnia…but there were some other kids there…Peter, some blond guy… 'This is our rightful kingdom…' 'But I earned it! I defeated Voldemort…' 'You shall pay for your attempted treason…Death to Harry Potter…' The voices were everywhere… 'Death to Harry Potter! Death to Harry Potter!' The lion was so close…
Harry Potter opened his eyes from his terrifying dream to see his good friend Ron Weasley leering over him like a stalker.
"Ron, what the bloody hell are you doing?" He pushed the redhead out of the way and sat up, rubbing his eyes and shaking the dream away. "What time is it, anyway?"
"It's just past five thirty," answered Ron, "but I just couldn't wait anymore."
Harry squinted. "You haven't swallowed another love potion, have you? Oh, Merlin's G-string, not again. Didn't you learn not to eat my candies after the first time? I might kill that Romilda Vane…"
"No no, Harry, it's not a love potion." He pointed at his stomach. "I'm hungry."
Harry frowned. "You woke me up at five thirty in the morning by leering over me like a stalker to tell me you're hungry?"
"I was leering like a creeper, not a stalker."
"What's the difference?"
"A creeper creeps with love. A stalker's just…creepy."
"You realize that made absolutely no sense."
"Sure it did. You just didn't get it."
"Oh, what the hell difference does it make?" Harry stood angrily. "Breakfast isn't for another few hours. Do you want to go down to the kitchens?"
"Then what do you want?"
Ron sighed dreamily. "You know that cereal you introduced me to over the summer? Loopy toots or something?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Froot Loops?"
"Yeah!" Ron jumped up and down excitedly, and also a bit like a girl, but that's simply the opinion of the author. "I want some Froot Loops!"
If you thought they were called Loopy Toots, why would you want to eat them? questioned Harry in his mind. "They don't have those here, Ron," sighed Harry out loud. "It's a not a magical cereal. Muggles eat it."
"No, they're not." Ron's eyes widened so that they were the size of moons, or at least the frooty—er, fruity—cereal he was hankering after. "They're magical, Harry."
"Alright, fine." Harry shook his head and raised his wand hand. "I'll just Summon them. Accio—!"
"STOP RIGHT THERE, HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Hermione burst into the dormitory. "You can't Summon Muggle items from the local village! You'll break the Statue of Secrecy! And besides, you didn't have your wand in your hand."
"Oh, damn it." He dropped his wand hand and grabbed his wand from his bedside table and stared at it angrily. "I can't just say a spell and they'll appear in a bowl, can I?"
"Nope," said Hermione smartly. "One of Gamp's Laws is that—"
"It's too early to have a halfway intelligent conversation right now," interrupted Harry. Then he sighed again and looked up at Hermione. "Are you telling me we're going to have to go on an adventure for Froot Loops?"
"Haven't you learned that every endeavor you attempt becomes an adventure?" pointed out Hermione with half a smile. "That's sort of the point of you being the star of your own series."
"You have a good point," agreed Harry. Ron was still bouncing up and down at the prospect of Froot Loops on his horizon. "You know, it was quite convenient that when you yelled, you didn't wake any of our dorm mates up."
"It was necessary to the plot, Harry," she said very seriously. "If they were to wake up, Dean especially, they might offer an easier solution to our predicament. Dean might even have some Froot Loops. I've heard he rather enjoys Froot Loops. Of course, what human being who's tried them wouldn't?"
"My sister," said Ron, suddenly in tune with the conversation. "She tried them when I did and she said she hated them. But I rather think she's less human and more devil. It's all that red hair." He returned to his bouncing, and, after Harry and Hermione both gaped at him for a moment, amazed he could be that dumb, they decided to ignore him. He was, after all, hungry, and no one could trust Ron when he was hungry.
"Again, an excellent point, Hermione," said Harry with a smile. "That's why I keep you around."
"I know," said Hermione, an equally large smile appearing on her face and her hands automatically going to her hips. "You boys haven't seen the light of day and realized I'm gorgeous yet."
"Certainly not," he said amicably, but suddenly a nervous feeling nagged him. She is gorgeous, he thought. The frizz of her hair, the sparkle of her eyes (eerily similar to Dumbledore's eyes), the curve of her hips, her lovely lady lumps…
"Harry?" she said, snapping him out of his reverie. "When you're done staring in appreciation, I think we should probably leave before someone wakes up and offers a more sensible solution to our problem."
"Right," agreed Harry, his mind elsewhere—like in Hermione's robes. He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. "We need the Invisibility Cloak, though, and the Marauders Map for good measure." He Summoned both from his trunk—eager to exhibit his as-of-yet unseen magical prowess and make his mind stop thinking dirty thoughts about Hermione—and turned toward the door.
"We'd better control Ron," sighed Hermione as Ron literally bounced off a wall and promptly hit the floor. He looked up at them with tears in his eyes and ever-reddening cheeks. "It looks like he has a tantrum coming on."
"Right." Harry marched over to Ron, grabbed one of his elbows and Hermione grabbed the other. They stood, making an awkward processional but making Ron giggle and snap out of his bad mood. "Let's go."
They headed out the door, Ron humming something that resembled that song from the Wizard of Oz and Harry and Hermione dragging him through the halls of Hogwarts.