The Magical Twenty-Six

"Pettigrew, hand me that bottle of facial cream!" ordered Voldemort. He was preening at himself in the mirror. "After being on the back of Quirrell's head a few years ago, my complexion has gone completely insane. I long for my younger days, when the skin on my face was as pure and as smooth as a baby's backside." Voldemort sighed. "Those were the days."

"Yes, master," replied Peter Pettigrew, he had not wanted to ruin the Dark Lord's period of reminiscence, for Lord Voldemort could be one catty metrosexual. He handed Lord Voldemort the green vial of potion.

Without a sideways glance Voldemort splashed it on his face. "NOW, MY MINONS!" screamed the Dark Lord. He looked around. No one but he and Peter Pettigrew were in the room. "I mean, NOW MY MINION, WE KILL THE BOY WHO LIVED! SO HE IS NOW THE BOY WHO IS GOING TO DIE AND LATER HE WILL BE THE BOY WHO IS DEAD!" Voldemort laughed sinisterly.

"But, Master, I thought Ronald Weasley is the Boy Who is Dead. Keep in mind, the author of this fic is Poeshoo, and she always kills off the young Ronald Weasley."

"You're right," agreed Voldemort, "but what you don't know is I chopped him up with a dull axe this morning and ate him with my yogurt!"

"You're brilliant, Master!"

"I KNOW, RIGHT!?" replied the Dark Lord in the most homosexual voice possible. He coughed a bit. "Anyway, TO HOGWARTS!"

------

Sitting in the common room, Harry Potter was knitting some baby booties for his Cousin Dudley. He had always just thought that his cousin was just fat, but now he knew that he had just been pregnant the entire time!

Harry Potter was knitting and humming away when suddenly Lord Voldemort flew in the window on an enchanted microwave. "POTTER," screeched the snake-like man, "NOW IS YOUR TIME TO DIE!"

Harry Potter screamed like a wussy girl. "DON'T KILL ME!"

"Now really, Potter. We all knew this day was going to come, so quit being such a baby."

Suddenly, they're was a sparkling green light.

"Well, shit," said Harry, "I've been Avada Kedavra'd." He looked around. "Wait, I'm still alive. WHERE'S VOLDEMORT!?" He looked around the room quickly in Lord Voldemort's place was a two-year-old with jet black hair. "BABY VOLDEMORT!" screamed Harry. "KILL!" He took a leap at the baby, only to be stopped by his decrepit mentor, Albus Dumbledore.

"BABY!" screamed Dumbledore. He ran to the baby Tom Riddle and started smothering him with kisses. "Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy? Goodie-Daycious-Fladdie-Da-Da!" cooed the old man.

"But...but...Professor, he's Tom Riddle! He's trying to kill me!" explained Harry hurriedly.

"This little tyke?" asked Dumbledore, he looked down at the squirming, dark-eyed child. "Lord Voldemort you say? That is utter nonsense, Mr. Potter, and I expect you to be docile and sweet around such a tiny child. I pray that you never have children, you'll be a awful father."

"Say, Harry, have you finished your booties yet?" asked Hermione, her head buried in a book. Unfortunately, since she was reading and trying to descend stairs at the same time, she tripped and fell flat on her face. "OW!" She looked up. "DUMBLEDORE, YOU'RE HOLDING THAT BABY UPSIDE DOWN!"

Dumbledore looked down at the blue-faced baby, who was dying since all the blood was going to his head. "OH! Right you are, Miss Granger! Ten points to the Maternal Instinct!" Dumbledore flipped the baby right around.

"Gosh, Hermione, you could have let it die! It is Lord Voldemort, after all," sighed Harry.

Hermione looked shocked. "I wouldn't kill anyone!"

"Don't you remember last summer?" asked Harry.

Hermione's face turned pale. "Harry James Potter," she whispered quickly, "you promised you wouldn't tell anyone!"

Harry smirked. "KILL THE BABY!" he ordered. Jumping up onto the couch.

"I WILL NOT!" protested Hermione.

"FINE! I WILL DO IT MYSELF!" Harry jumped up off of the couch and grabbed the baby, he was about to throw it out the window when Dumbledore levitated the baby back over to him.

"Now, really," said Dumbledore. He stormed out of the room, slamming the portrait door behind him.

"Ow!" said Neville meekly, for his leg was crushed in the door.

"Let me help you, Neville," said Hermione, she walked with the poor boy to the Hospital Wing.

Harry sat pondering. His eyes wandered over to the microwave.

"THAT'S IT!"

------

In his office, Albus Dumbledore sat with the toddler Tom Riddle. The baby was quite a handful. The baby kept setting things on fire with his eyes, so he knew it was a wizard baby. He wondered which of his students had decided to procreate. He could rule out Harry Potter, he had to be gay. Hermione Granger was too geeky to get laid. Draco Malfoy had Shakisha, so he wouldn't need another baby for a while. That Ginny Weasley was quite a fox, but this baby's hair was black, so it couldn't be a Weasley, which ruled out half of the Gryffindor House. Dumbledore sighed. There was a knock at the door. "Come in."

Harry Potter entered the Headmaster's office, trying to shield the microwave from the old man's sight. "Hey, Dumbledore, want to hear a joke?" asked Harry.

"Not especially," replied Dumbledore, pouring water over his potted plant, which the baby had set on fire.

"Come on, Professor. It will only take a minute!" promised Harry.

"Well, alright."

"What's red and bubbly and scratches at the door before exploding?"

Dumbledore thought for a moment. "I don't know, what is red and bubbly and scratches at the door before exploding?"

"This!" replied Harry. He snatched the baby and threw it in the microwave. He set the dial to "broil" and turned on the microwave.

"HARRY! YOU'VE MICROWAVED THE BABY!" shouted Dumbledore.

"You're right!" replied Harry, cackling manically. Suddenly, there was a loud pop and Lord Voldemort immerged from the microwave.

He touched his face, which fell off. "MY FACE! MY SKIN! MY BEAUTIFUL SKIN, RUINED!" He turned to Harry Potter. "YOU MUST DIE! AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry twitched and fell on the floor, dead.

"Thanks, Albus," said Voldemort.

"Anytime, Tom," replied Dumbledore. "That kid was really getting annoying."