Not all he seems…
By Greenfly
Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognisable. Really. Believe me on this one.
Important Note: There are countless fics out there (and I think it might be in the books too) where good old Voldie-poo manipulates Harry's dreams, preventing the poor lad from getting a decent night of uninterrupted sleep. Now, I think that to do this Tom has to be actively trying at the time; therefore this fic was spawned. In dedication to every decent fanfic ever written where Tom gives Harry a hard time with dreams and whatnot.
Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly before swinging his bag onto his back and joining Ron and Hermione in the trudge back from Care of Magical Creatures.
"You like tired mate." Ron observed, glancing at his friend sideways. Harry didn't even bother replying, instead fighting off another yawn.
"Another vision?" Hermione guessed. Harry shook his head. "V- Voldemort dream?" At Harry's bleary nod Hermione winced in sympathy and stopped her questioning.
"Y'know," Ron looked thoughtful. This was worrying. "With the amount of time You-Know-Who spends in your head as well as being an evil bastard, he must be a great multi-tasker… Hey, he sounds almost –"
Harry stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide and tiredness gone. He had just made the revelation of the century!
"Voldemort's a GIRL!"
Hermione and Ron broke out laughing and each grabbed one of Harry's arms, dragging him up the grounds to Hogwarts.
"No guys! I'm serious!" Seeing their highly amused looks Harry pushed on. "Imagine Death Eaters as… shoes." A snort. "Seriously! Voldemort's always shopping for new ones, gets really jealous when he can't have the ones he wants, when they get old or he doesn't like them any more he throws them away…"
Hermione pulled a mask of thoughtfulness over her face. "You've got a point there…"
Ron just guffawed, before he too was struck by the similarities of Voldemort and the female population.
"Imagine if he broke a nail."
Their laughter could be heard even in Dumbledore's office.
That night and for many nights after, Harry slept amazingly well. As soon as Voldemort pushed himself into Harry's subconscious, he would be forced to flee in terror because he would find his virtual self clothed in a frilly pink frock with a ludicrous blonde wig balanced precariously on topofhis head; dream Harry laughing his pants off at Voldemort's new-and-improved look.
A/N
Just a bit of light-hearted fun. As a great admirer of the female population, no offence was intended to anyone. I know it was very stereotyped but… it was all in fun.