Harry's Revenge 3: Let's Kill the Old Guy
Harry sat in the house on Number Four Privet Drive. That house had once belonged to his only living relatives, the Dursleys, until he murdered them just a month ago. He had also murdered his best friends, Ron and Hermione, a week before the Dursleys.
Suddenly, Hedwig, who had been let out for a little while to stretch her wings, flew through the window. She clutched an envelope in her beak. Harry took it from her and broke the seal-the Hogwarts seal. Inside was a piece of parchment with a short note written on it. Harry read it. Dear Harry,
I know what you did. I am coming to help you sort out your issues. Don't leave, for I know where you will be. Seriously, I will.
Sincerely, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Harry read the note over and over. What'll I do? Bloody hell, he'll come to get me! I know! I'll kill him. That's the easiest way to get out of a mess, he thought. DUM DUM DUM! *creepy organ music plays in the background*
He grabbed his wand and spell books. He flipped through the pages, looking for the best way to torture someone. Then he realized it would be easier to just use Avada Kadavra. He sat by the window and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and-
The door flew open. In the doorway stood Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. "Ah, Harry! How nice to see you. Now, let's start working on your-your issues, shall we?"
"That's bull, and you know it. I don't have any bloody issues, you here me?" Harry said as he raised his wand.
"Ah, I thought you might say that. Well, firstly, I don't know it. Secondly, you do have 'bloody' issues. Now, sit down and put away your wand. Care for a lemon drop?" he asked, holding out a small bag.
"Oh, sure I would! I just love lemon drops, don't you?"
"Ah, yes, quite right, they're just exquisite!" said Dumbledore delightedly.
"Yes, quite right, quite right. Would you like some tea? Chocolate chip cookies?" he asked.
"Ah, yes, of course! You can bake?" he asked, seeming quite surprised.
"Well, I've had a secret obsession with baking for quite some time..." he said, heading towards the kitchen.
"Ah, really? That's quite interesting..." Dumbledore called from the other room.
"Yes, yes," said Harry as he started to bake.
Yes, this is perfect. I've fooled him. Now all I have to do is kill him. How the bloody hell do you bake cookies? He thought. He threw chocolate chips, flour, and eggs (with the shells) into a bowl, pounded it a few times, and then poured it onto a tray and stuffed it into the oven. Half an hour later he took it out. There, he thought.
"There you go, Professor. Enjoy." He said, bringing in a tray of cookies, a pot of tea, and two small tea cups.
"Ah, I'm sure I will," he said, taking a cookie and pouring himself some tea. He bit into the cookie. CRUNCH!! "Ah, what the--! What are these made of? They taste like...like egg shells."
"Oh, yes, that," Harry said, pulling out his wand. "I lied; I couldn't bake if my life depended on it," he said.
"You wouldn't, Harry, you would-" "AVADA KADAVRA!" Harry interrupted. "OOOO-OOO!*thump*" said Dumbledore. There, Harry thought happily, staring at the dead body on the floor. He smiled. Well, what now? I guess I'll have some tea myself. He sat down and poured some into a cup. Delicious, if I do say so myself, he thought, sipping the tea. Half an hour passed; Harry had drunk all the tea. He stood up and stepped out the door, grabbing his broom on the way out. He mounted and flew up high; very high. He flew up so high that no one could see him. And that's that, I guess, he thought. He stopped suddenly; pointing the front end of his broom at the ground, he shot back down. He stopped half a centimeter from the sidewalk got off, walking back into the house. Harry suddenly felt incredibly depressed. I'm not truly happy doing this, am I? Maybe I should find a new hobby...become-become good...Nah, he thought.
THE END
Harry sat in the house on Number Four Privet Drive. That house had once belonged to his only living relatives, the Dursleys, until he murdered them just a month ago. He had also murdered his best friends, Ron and Hermione, a week before the Dursleys.
Suddenly, Hedwig, who had been let out for a little while to stretch her wings, flew through the window. She clutched an envelope in her beak. Harry took it from her and broke the seal-the Hogwarts seal. Inside was a piece of parchment with a short note written on it. Harry read it. Dear Harry,
I know what you did. I am coming to help you sort out your issues. Don't leave, for I know where you will be. Seriously, I will.
Sincerely, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Harry read the note over and over. What'll I do? Bloody hell, he'll come to get me! I know! I'll kill him. That's the easiest way to get out of a mess, he thought. DUM DUM DUM! *creepy organ music plays in the background*
He grabbed his wand and spell books. He flipped through the pages, looking for the best way to torture someone. Then he realized it would be easier to just use Avada Kadavra. He sat by the window and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and-
The door flew open. In the doorway stood Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. "Ah, Harry! How nice to see you. Now, let's start working on your-your issues, shall we?"
"That's bull, and you know it. I don't have any bloody issues, you here me?" Harry said as he raised his wand.
"Ah, I thought you might say that. Well, firstly, I don't know it. Secondly, you do have 'bloody' issues. Now, sit down and put away your wand. Care for a lemon drop?" he asked, holding out a small bag.
"Oh, sure I would! I just love lemon drops, don't you?"
"Ah, yes, quite right, they're just exquisite!" said Dumbledore delightedly.
"Yes, quite right, quite right. Would you like some tea? Chocolate chip cookies?" he asked.
"Ah, yes, of course! You can bake?" he asked, seeming quite surprised.
"Well, I've had a secret obsession with baking for quite some time..." he said, heading towards the kitchen.
"Ah, really? That's quite interesting..." Dumbledore called from the other room.
"Yes, yes," said Harry as he started to bake.
Yes, this is perfect. I've fooled him. Now all I have to do is kill him. How the bloody hell do you bake cookies? He thought. He threw chocolate chips, flour, and eggs (with the shells) into a bowl, pounded it a few times, and then poured it onto a tray and stuffed it into the oven. Half an hour later he took it out. There, he thought.
"There you go, Professor. Enjoy." He said, bringing in a tray of cookies, a pot of tea, and two small tea cups.
"Ah, I'm sure I will," he said, taking a cookie and pouring himself some tea. He bit into the cookie. CRUNCH!! "Ah, what the--! What are these made of? They taste like...like egg shells."
"Oh, yes, that," Harry said, pulling out his wand. "I lied; I couldn't bake if my life depended on it," he said.
"You wouldn't, Harry, you would-" "AVADA KADAVRA!" Harry interrupted. "OOOO-OOO!*thump*" said Dumbledore. There, Harry thought happily, staring at the dead body on the floor. He smiled. Well, what now? I guess I'll have some tea myself. He sat down and poured some into a cup. Delicious, if I do say so myself, he thought, sipping the tea. Half an hour passed; Harry had drunk all the tea. He stood up and stepped out the door, grabbing his broom on the way out. He mounted and flew up high; very high. He flew up so high that no one could see him. And that's that, I guess, he thought. He stopped suddenly; pointing the front end of his broom at the ground, he shot back down. He stopped half a centimeter from the sidewalk got off, walking back into the house. Harry suddenly felt incredibly depressed. I'm not truly happy doing this, am I? Maybe I should find a new hobby...become-become good...Nah, he thought.
THE END