A/N: And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I am not allowed to write fanfiction. At night. Or ever, when writing the fic as a crack fic is involved. So: here is Harry Potter and the Temptations of the Pomegranate.

Harry stood beneath the pomegranate tree, wand in hand. It was after hours, but it was normal for him, Harry Potter, to be outside then.

The tree was in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. Harry peered up to the top of the tree, looking at the biggest, juiciest pomegranate. And he wanted it. The only problem was, Harry didn't know what spell would work to get the pomegranate down to him.

Aha! But there was one thing he did know. He knew a spell to turn his wand into a sword.

"Gladius!" he whispered.

Harry's wand lengthened and glistened in the moonlight. Grinning, he jumped up and swung. But in mid-swing, Harry lost his grip.

The sword went flying into the air- sinking right into the juicy pomegranate.

"Bloody hell!" Harry exclaimed. He paced angrily around the tree. Oh, how he wanted that pomegranate. If only he could… wait just a second, he realized.

"That's it!" he crowed eagerly.

Harry bounded back into the castle and up to the boys dormitory. Unfortunately, on the way back he ran into Peeves. Peeves cackled gleefully.

"Wee Potter!" he sang. "What are you doing out of bed? Should call for Filch, I should!" Peeves smirked.

"I'm out of bed because I want a pomegranate!" Harry screeched, smacking Peeves. He then ran to grab his Firebolt. Eagerly, he leapt onto the broom.

As luck would have it, Harry wasn't more than five feet off the ground when he went crashing into Ron.

"Argh!" Ron cried, flailing. Then he saw Harry, who was pouting.

"Harry," Ron said slowly, "why are you on your broom in the middle of the bloody night?"

"I want a pomegrante!" Harry cried, still pouting. Then he leapt off Ron's bed, spun the broom towards the window, and crashed through it.

Neville woke and blinked sleepily.

"Where's Harry going?" he asked, turning to Ron.

"He wants to get a pomegranate," Ron blinked in confusion.

Harry flew deep into the forest, where the pomegranate tree stood waiting. Delighted, Harry reached out and stretched his fingers to grasp the delicious fruit. But as he reached for the pomegranate, his broom stalled. Harry screamed pathetically as he plunged towards the forest floor. He let out a surprised squeal when he landed in someone's arms.

"Mr. Potter," the person said, "what are you doing in the forest this late?"

Harry stared up into Firenze's face.

"I. Just. Want. To. Get. The. Pomegranate!" he yelled.

Firenze nodded thoughtfully, as if it all made perfect sense. Then he tossed Harry up into the pomegranate. Harry let out another pathetic screech.

He flew towards the ripe pomegranate, and grabbed a hold of it. As he snagged the long awaited fruit, a crack broke through the air.

The branch the pomegranate Harry had grabbed onto snapped, and Harry found himself free-falling to the ground. He held onto the branch for dear life, preparing himself for the unfortunate death.

Harry bolted up in bed, gasping. It had all been a dream.

"No!" he wailed, waking up the other boys.

"What is it, Harry?" Ron rubbed his eyes as he sat up.

"I wanted that pomegranate!" Harry yelled. He leapt out of bed, dashing down the stairs.

The others watched him go, confusion etched onto their faces.

"…..Pomegranate?"