Saving Harry

Voldemort was angry. No, not just angry, he was livid. He grabbed at his wand, but found himself, indeed, too enraged to think of a good curse. Instead, he hurled his wand at the messenger, who scampered away with a growing bruise on his forehead. However many times the Dark Lord had been defeated, he still had a pretty strong throwing arm, built up from years and years of temper tantrums and toy throwing as a child.

Today however, he was not pleased at the pain he had caused, or the fear that seeped into everyone near him. No, he was, in fact, completely and utterly furious. The reason for this was that the one thing he had wanted to do, the one purpose of his life, had been destroyed earlier that day. He started to shake again, just thinking about it. His entire life had boiled down to one moment foretold in a prophecy, which he could now never complete.

Suddenly, he stood up. It didn't have to end this way. He could fix this problem in no time. With newfound hope, he made his way to the fireplace and threw some Floo powder in it.

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Dumbledore was sitting in his office, twiddling his thumbs and humming to himself when a mysterious figure popped into his fireplace.

"Why Tom, whatever are you doing here? My sources tell me that you aren't due for another attempted attack for about," he pulled a tiny calendar out from his desk and examined it, "two months," he concluded.

"Sorry Dumbledore, I'm afraid I'm here on a rather personal affair."

"So you've heard about the tragic coincidences surrounding Mr. Potter's death, I presume?"

"Yes, and I was wondering where I might find the vile creature who caused this sudden demise?"

Dumbledore pointed out the window and Voldemort exited the room, stomping past classrooms full of gaping students, down flights of stairs (tripping and falling down the last couple of steps), and headed toward the lake, wand raised in determination.

"Alright," he called out across the vast expanse of water, "come out and face me, stealer of my enemy!"

Every living creature in the lake surfaced to stare at him. The merepeople in particular looked rather upset at having been disrupted from their dinner, and promptly gave him 'the finger' before returning to the lake's murky depths. However, one of the creatures stood out above all the rest, mainly because it was bigger than all the rest.

"Now see here," the Dark Lord said, looking a little shaky, but continued nonetheless, "you seem to have eaten my enemy, and I am here to get him back!"

The giant squid blinked stupidly at him,(if squids do in fact blink, that is) but swam over to the shore where he was standing.

Voldemort sighed, "Let me explain this to you. I am the villain of this here story, and being a villain, I need an enemy, namely, the good-guy. Harry Potter is the said good-guy that I have been trying to vanquish since birth... his birth, not mine... but you seem to have eaten and digested... well hopefully not digested him. The point is, I need him back so we can fight. So if you would kindly open your stupid orifice and let him out, I would be much obliged."

The squid stared at him. This was obviously going to be no easy task. He bravely strode up to it, and started whacking it with his wand, "GIVE.ME.BACK.MY.ENEMY, " he emphasised each word with another whack to the squid's head, "NOW! OR I'LL BLAM YOU OUT OF EXISTENCE YOU STUPID SLIMY MEAN CREATURE YOU!"

He began to jump up and down in anger. Dumbledore held his breath, preparing for the temper tantrum of the century. However, before the Dark Lord could utter one more word, the squid had grabbed him with a massive tentacle and placed him in its mouth, swallowing him whole.

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*27 Days Later*

A voice spoke through the impenetrable darkness, sounding somewhat excited, "Prepare for battle, Harry Potter, for today I shall conquer you!"

Harry sighed, "Voldemort, no matter how many times you say that, it won't bring our wands back, so just sit down, and shut up!"

"What else am I suppose to do? It's boring in here!"

"We're going to wait until somebody decides to save us. Or until we die. Whichever comes first."

"But... I can't die," he whined, " I'm Voldemort!"

"Well then you're going to be here a pretty damn long time, aren't you?"

"I hate you, Potter."

"I hate you too."