Disclaimer: Not mine, JKR’s. Don’t own, so please don’t sue me?

o.o.o.o

Harry Potter stood before the Dark Lord, skinny and short and solid. Defiance oozed from his every pore like molasses. Voldemort sat in his regal-looking throne, Bellatrix beside him, the last of his loyal Death Eaters.

"The time has finally come, Tommy," said Harry gravely, wand in hand. "It's down to this. Me or you, good and evil. One against the other. Mortal combat. Are you prepared to die?"

Voldemort cleared his throat. Bellatrix fidgeted, and the Dark Lord glared at her. "Now, now, Harry," Voldemort cajoled warmly, waving a languid had dismissively. He began his last, desperate attempt to remain alive. "None of that. Here, I'll tell you what you should do."

He sat up very straight and then leaned forward. Harry subconsciously mimicked his action, and so did Bellatrix.

Voldemort smiled. "Come to the Dark Side, Harry."

Harry recoiled, glaring. "Why should I?" he demanded, angrily, insulted by the slur on his purity. Voldemort kept smiling; he shrugged at Harry, unconcerned.

"Oh... we have cookies!"

Harry was going to stare at him consideringly for a moment -- never underestimate the power of a good dessert well made -- but Bellatrix interrupted him with her shriek of surprise.

"We do?" she sputtered, then rounded on the Dark Lord angrily. She gave him no time to defend either himself or these so-called Cookies of the Dark Side. "Voldy! All this time!"

She smacked him firmly across the cheek. She tried to brush pass Harry emotionally and run off sobbing... but her exit was ruined when she tripped over Harry's robe and fell on her face.

"Baby!" exclaimed Voldemort, half-rising from his chair. He looked constipated. "I thought we had something!"

"So did I!" she sobbed past a bewildered Harry. "I thought we meant something... But oh no, you've been keeping cookies from me!"

Voldemort raised his hands to placate her. "Bella, baby! It's just a few chocolate chips! I'll... I'll... I'll share!"

"NO!" screamed Bellatrix, pulling out her wand. She pointed it at herself. "It's too late now! You've really done it this time, Voldy!"

"Baby!" whined the Dark Lord. He got the rest of the way up and, with a long suffering sigh, started for his Death Eater. "Not again!"

Bellatrix glared in unmitigated fury. "Avada kedavra!" she shrieked. Green light shot out and she fell flat on her face, dead.

"NO!" Distraught, Voldemort threw himself the last three feet it took to reach her. "OHMIGOD OHMIGOD NO HOW COULD YOU?"

Crouched next to her, he pulled her head into his lap, almost sobbing. "Baby, come back!" he cried, clearly heartbroken. "I'll share, baby, I'll share!"

Bellatrix's dead body didn't react.

"Oh!" sobbed Voldemort. He conjured a plate of cookies, hovering at his elbow, and grabbed two fists full. He tried to shove the cookies down her throat.

"I'll share!"

Bellatrix's dead body didn't react.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Voldemort wailed, throwing a cookie or two in Harry's direction, quite viciously. "NO! Bella, baby, come back, I need you! NOOOOOOOO!"

Harry watched this display, rather bemused. "... She had a husband, you know," he pointed out, in case the Dark Lord had forgotten.

"A small complication, while he lived," Voldemort snarled, petting Bellatrix's face and in the process dislodging quite a few cookie crumbs and pieces. Several reptilian tears dripped down his cheeks and landed on Bellatrix's. "Besides, he couldn't get it up, anyway."

"Yes, well." Harry straightened, subconsciously puffing his chest out slightly, which made him look very hero-like. "Your Horcruxes are gone, and now the last of your Death Eaters is gone. It is time to die, snake."

But Voldemort had stopped listening to Harry. The Dark Lord had picked up some of the cookies and began shoving them down his own throat, moaning and mumbling to himself.

("I'll share, see? I'll share! I'll eat them for you, if you can't. Please, Bella, baby, come back! I'll share! I need you! Baby!")

Then, abruptly, he started gagging and pounding at his chest. Part of a cookie had lodged itself in a very not nice place in the back of his throat.

Even Dark Lords can choke to death.

Harry really didn't feel like bothering with the rescuing him, just to kill him after. This really saved him quite a lot of trouble, actually. The situation was kind of funny, even -- Death By Cookie, and all that.

Voldemort fell over, flat on his face, dead. Grinning smugly, Harry walked over and kicked him once or twice, just to make sure. Then, the Boy-Who-Lived sauntered away.

Harry Won.

o.o.o.o

Author’s Note: This was very random, I know. But it’s also possibly my favorite thing I’ve ever written. Review, eh?