A/N: A Halloween story for all of you. It's a pretty short story, only about 6 chapters I believe, and I will be posting it up until Halloween. Enjoy!

The First Chapter

"Harry, wake up!"

The pillow felt soft under his head. As he snuggled down further into his blankets, the calls got louder.

"Harry? Harry!"

Mumbling irritably, Harry turned over and opened his eyes. His best friend, Ron Weasley loomed above him. When he noticed Harry was awake, he broke into a large grin.

"It's about bloody time! Did you see this yet?" He waved his arm widely, a small parchment envelope clutched in his hands.

Harry blearily rubbed his eyes and sat up. He glared at the way-too-chipper-for-first-thing-in-the-morning Seventh Year. "What could possibly have made you wake me up at –" he glanced over at the wall clock "– it's 6 a.m.?!? Damn it, Ron! You better have a good explanation," he threatened.

Ron gulped and stepped back as he noticed to wand clutched firmly in the black haired boy's hand. Any Gryffindor student in their right mind knew that it was hazardous to their health to wake up Harry Potter. He was a hex first; ask questions later kind of person.

"Calm down." Ron held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but Harry didn't lower his wand. He just raised an eyebrow with a 'Well? What do you want?' expression on his face.

"I just wanted to tell you about this." He motioned to the envelope in his grip again.

Harry sighed impatiently. "What is it?"

"I can't tell you that. But," he added quickly at Harry's murderous look. "Check and see if you got one. Under your pillow."

Humoring him, Harry ran a hand under his pillows until it bumped into a square of paper. He pulled it out. Ron let out a whoop of excitement.

"Go on, open it!"

He studied the packet closely, checking for any curses or tampering. Gingerly, he ran a finger along the writing on the front.

To Mister Harry Potter

Simple. Direct. Exactly how Harry like it.

This time, Ron let out a noise of impatience.

"Stop being so paranoid, Harry. Just open it!"

Rolling his eyes, Harry carefully pulled open the flap, dumping the contents out onto his bed. A thin piece of paper floated down.

Ready for a night of terror? Want to face your most dangerous fears?

Join us this Halloween night at the Shrieking Shack at 11 p.m.

Tell no one.

Involuntarily, Harry felt a chill travel up his spine.

"So?" Ron prompted. "Do you want to go?"

"I don't know, Ron. It seems kind of shady to me."

"Oh, come on, Harry! Where's your daring? What happened to the Harry Potter I know? The one who wasn't afraid to take risks or break a rule every now and then?"

"It's not that. You know I love some good fun as much as the next bloke. But ... something is just off."

"Merlin, Harry! You're channeling Moody's spirit on me! All those shouts of 'Constant Vigilance' have finally gone to your head."

"I just don't like Halloween, okay."

Ron sat down on the bed. "Harry, Voldemort is gone. If any one needs to get out and party a bit, it's you. So what do you say?"

Harry looked into his friend's imploring face and caved. "Alright. What could it hurt?"