The Second Prophecy

CHAPTER 2

Wow, thought Harry, waking up, that's something I don't really want to remember. His next thought was, Shit, how long was I out for?

However, the obscenities that now streamed from his mouth in all their glory were meant in a good way, for Voldemort's lair was now completely deserted. Harry was quite confused, and both the euphoria of the moment and his swearing faded away. The idiots wouldn't possibly leave him alone, they knew how resourceful he was; not to toot his own horn, but still...

Suddenly, a hurriedly written note caught his eye: Out to get some tacos, the note read, be back in an hour. Harry thought that this note was his new best friend. As soon as he was free, he would kiss it. However, Harry didn't know when the Death Eaters would return, as he had been asleep when they left. He knew that his plan would have to be improvised if it were to work: skip the cursing, and simply run out screaming. So he began to run forward, but soon found that as hard as he tried, his feet were moving but he was not. Oh bloody hell, Harry shrieked in his mind, the bloody straps! Harry, in his ecstasy at being alone, had forgotten about the fact that he was strapped to a wooden post that was conveniently placed in a corner of the lair! The boy, losing control, began to scream at the leather straps, calling them dirty names and attempting to bite them. Finally, he got one in his mouth--sweet revenge! He chomped down, savoring his victory over the inanimate object, and the leather snapped and fell to the floor. Harry smacked himself over the head with his newly free hands and proceeded to chew up the remaining straps that bonded him to the post. Harry flexed his arms and legs, to make sure that he was mobile, then began to search for his wand.

However, after searching for more than half an hour, it was apparent that Harry's wand was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, Harry heard voices above him. The Death Eaters had returned with their tacos! Harry frantically continued his search, he had to get out of this poorly decorated evil lair! The Death Eaters were getting closer. Harry scanned the room, panicking and sweating profusely. He didn't see his wand, but something else caught his eye: one of Lucius's porno magazines. Harry did a double take; was that Professor Trelawney on the cover?!

Harry was so engrossed by Trelawney in all her glory that he didn't notice when fifteen wands were pointed at him. It was only when Crabbe hit him over the head with another rolled up magazine that Harry looked up and began to tremble.

"Ah, so the famous Harry Potter has muddled his escape plan, has he?" Lucius Malfoy sneered. "I knew it was all right to leave you alone. No teenage boy can leave a room where there are pictures of nude teachers."

Harry smacked himself for not knowing that the magazines were a trap. It was so obvious!

"And now," Lucius continued, "We are going to tie you to the pole with double reinforced leather! No one could chew their way threw that, except possibly the Granger girl. Take him to the pole, boys!" Bellatrix Lestrange snorted. "And women," Lucius conceded.

Now tied to the pole with double reinforced leather strips, Harry had nothing to do but close his eyes again, and reflect on his memories. Again.

Harry should have known something was fishy when he came to Gryffindor Tower and the Fat Lady had a harpoon through her head, but he was a bit too preoccupied to notice. He stepped through the open portrait hole and closed it behind him. Yawning, Harry put out the fire with a wave of his wand and proceeded to mope in the pitch darkness.

"Harry," said a voice. "Harry Potter."

"Yes?" Harry asked moodily.

"It was not a question, you foolish child, it was a statement. Questions have question marks at the end of them," continued the cold, thin voice from the darkness.

Harry decided that the voice was becoming increasingly irritating, so he decided to ignore it. It was only after he had sat there brooding for another few moments that he realized that a voice emanating from the darkness was not only unusual, it was probably something to worry about. So Harry lit the fire again with a fiery type of spell. With a loud fwoooooosh the fire ignited, revealing a dark cloaked figure.

"Harry Potter, you are a fool," the figure chuckled. "I hardly needed this elaborate yet slightly obvious plan to capture you."

Harry recognized that voice and its uncanny ability to make him feel like crap. He stood up, an expression of complete abhorrence written upon his face.

"Voldemort," Harry said darkly. "You've come for me, have you?"

"Oh yes, Potter," the Dark Lord laughed. "I have finally stormed your precious stronghold of Hogwarts; I have defeated Dumbledore, your protector. There is no one left to protect you but yourself, and that is no choice at all."

Harry quickly formulated a foolproof plan, one that could not be foiled or stopped. It all depended on a 93 to 1 chance.

"Voldemort," said Harry, changing his tone from utmost hatred to sweet and fawning, "how exactly did you get into Hogwarts and defeat Dumbledore?"

"Potter, Potter, Potter," Voldemort said, "do you really expect me to recite my entire plan so that you can fly out the window on your little broom? Surely you don't take me to be as big a fool as you!" Voldemort tilted his head back and laughed long and loud...and long.

Well, thought Harry, that's not exactly what I was planning on, but this works, too. While Voldemort laughed, Harry proceeded to fly out the window on his little broom.

When Voldemort stopped laughing and wiped his nose, the Gryffindor common room was devoid of any Potters. "Oh, bloody hell," Voldemort muttered. He snapped his fingers and two of his loyal death eaters (who had up until recently been hiding in the shadows) stepped forward and helped him to apparate after the extremely slippery Potter boy.

CHAPTER 3

Harry opened his eyes to Draco Malfoy's sinfully gorgeous yet irritating face.

"Draco?" Harry asked groggily. Malfoy's triumphant smile vanished in an instant.

"Look, Potter, I know we've been put in many slash fanfics together, but that doesn't mean we're on a first name basis," Malfoy snapped.

"Malfoy, then," Harry relented. "So Malfoy, what brings you to Voldemort's lair? Last time I checked, you had switched to our side."

"Just how much fanfic have you been reading, Potter? I'm only here to administer your potion, the Master is a bit short on help around here."

"The master?" Harry asked Malfoy. "IS VOLDEMORT HERE?" Harry struggled against his bonds, but it was no use. The double reinforced leather held strongly. "If only Hermione were here," he said out loud to no one in particular, remembering Lucius's comment about the leather. Then he remembered Hermione's betrayal and fell silent.

"Oh, but she is here, Potter," Malfoy told him with a smile. "But you can't see her yet. She has got a special surprise for you." He poked Harry's nose for emphasis on you.

"Oh boy," Harry said weakly. "Malfoy, listen, how 'bout you helping me get out of here? There's something in it for you."

"What have you got that I want, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "You haven't got any money; you haven't even got your wand. Unless you're referring to yet more fanfic. I don't want any of that Potter, that's just pathetic. Pathetic and perverted." Malfoy turned on his heel and stalked off.

"Well, that got rid of him," Harry said contentedly. If his arms had been free, he would have put them behind his head. Harry was now extremely bored, although it was a bit entertaining to watch Crabbe and Goyle stop in the middle of their tasks to stare at the magazines on the floor. However, Harry did not have a lot of time to laugh at them.

"Potter!" shrieked Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry snapped his head up to meet her eyes.

"Yes?" he said innocently.

"Potter, you're to come with us," she spat. "And I suggest you cooperate, unless you want to end up like the Longbottoms, the bastards." She smiled, recollecting one of her fondest memories.

Harry's blood boiled at the mere mention of the atrocious thing she had done to Neville's parents.

"You!" he shouted. "Look, me and Neville aren't...gay or anything," he finished uncomfortably. "But you've got absolutely no right to talk about his mum and dad like that!"

Bellatrix pointed her wand squarely at his forehead. "Listen, you," she hissed, then seemed to compose herself. "Go ahead, get it all out of your system," she told him brightly, "You won't be doing much complaining where you're going." And with that statement, she muttered "abscido," and sliced through Harry's double reinforced leather bonds with her wand. She clutched his arm with her sharply manicured nails and apparated with a loud popping noise.

Harry was crouched on the roof of the Astronomy tower when the Dark Lord apparated behind him. Harry didn't even realize how close he was until it was too late; Voldemort muttered, "vivos" and the gargoyle in front of Harry sprang to life, grabbing him and holding him still, despite his struggling.

Voldemort strode across the roof to Potter, enjoying his pain. "Ah, Potter," Voldemort sighed, "you thought you could escape from me. And indeed, I almost hoped you would. But that part of me is gone; it died so very long ago."

"Uh...that part of you?" Harry asked quizzically.

"Yes," Voldemort murmured. "The part of me that came alive when I heard...oh, but never mind that, Potter. I have come simply to kill you, and you are distracting me from my job."

Harry's mind raced, searching for a way to delay the Dark Lord's dark intentions.

"Er, Tom," he ventured in a wavering voice. "What do you say we get jiggy with it?"

To Harry's immense surprise, Voldemort actually faltered. The Dark Lord slowly lowered his wand and stared at him, his gaze boring a hole through Harry's eyes.

"G-get jiggy with what?" Voldemort said, his voice more high pitched than usual. Suddenly, he seemed to collect himself again and once again raised his wand. "Well, back to business," he muttered. "Avada kedavra."

Harry was startled by how quickly Voldemort had recovered from his curious lapse of concentration. He was also mildly surprised that he was about to die, after all the times he had defeated this man before. But he didn't have much time to ponder all of this, because the green light of the killing curse was hurtling straight towards him. And then, with a slight squelching noise, the cruse hit him square in the head and he was dead.

Well, he thought he was dead. Harry was rather shocked to open his eyes again and see a worried looking Voldemort leaning over him.

"Potter!" cried the Dark Lord, his voice dripping with concern. "I--I don't know what I was thinking! Why, you could have been killed!"

"Why aren't I dead?" Harry asked bluntly.

"Do I look like Albus Dumbledore to you? I don't have all the answers!" Voldemort snapped. "Now hold on one bloody moment, how are you still alive?" He paused, his chin resting in his hand. "Oh no!" he cried, a look of horror crossing over his face. "It's happening again! I've got to end this problem once and for all."

With no further explanations, Voldemort jumped on the back of the gargoyle and exclaimed, "To Utah!" The gargoyle, in turn, flew into the night sky, Harry still in its clutches.