OPERATION SNAKEMAN SCARE

By Serena

A/N: Ok, this is a really, really REALLY random oneshot. Totally random and OOC. Just warning you! :D

Disc: Don't own anything!

"We must defeat Voldemort," Dumbledore said dramatically.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You don't say."

Dumbledore glared at him and whacked him upside his head. "I didn't ask you."

The two of them were in Dumbledore's office. Harry was sourly sitting in a chair, and Dumbledore was pacing slowly, tugging at his beard.

"What we need," said Dumbledore thoughtfully, "is a plan…"

"Yeah, that'd be a good idea," Harry snorted sarcastically.

Dumbledore whapped him upside his head. "Quiet, Scarface. We need more than a plan. What we need is something… or someone so terrifying, so incredibly horrifying that Voldemort will be scared away for good. Voldemort wishes to strike fear into the hearts of everyone. We need to strike fear into his heart."

"He doesn't have a heart," Harry remarked.

Dumbledore shot him a withering look. "Did I ask your opinion, Four Eyes?"

Harry cowered and tried to pull his invisibility cloak over his head, but all he succeeded in doing was losing his balance and tumbling off his chair.

"Ow."

Dumbledore ignored him and continued thinking. He popped a lemon drop in his mouth, made a face, and spit it out on the floor. The Phoenix screeched, swept down to eat it, and choked on it, dying right there on the floor. Dumbledore sighed at the pile of ashes.

"Well, it was time for that carpet to be cleaned, anyway."

Dumbledore and Harry – who was unwillingly dragged along – ended up in a dark, crime-ridden city an hour later. They were in a dark alley. An owl hooted. A mouse squeaked. Harry gulped.

Dumbledore started humming "There She Goes."

Harry stared at him. "Er, what are we doing here, Professor?" he whispered.

Dumbledore just stood there, staring out at the empty, dark alley. "Humming, of course. Lemon drop?"

"No thanks."

"Suit yourself, shrimp." Dumbledore popped another lemon drop into his mouth. He sucked on it for a second and spit it out again. "Nasty things."

Harry wondered if there was any way he could call for a cab somewhere…

"Put up your hands!" croaked a voice from behind. Both wizards turned to see an ugly, shabby thug holding a gun in his hands.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

The thug frowned. "What's what?"

"That," Harry said, pointing at the gun. "The thing you're holding."

The thug laughed. "You ain't never seen a gun before?"

"No," said Harry. "If I had, I wouldn't be asking you what it was, now would I?" And without further ado, he whipped out his wand and shouted, "Stupefy!"

The thug tumbled back into a dumpster. Dumbledore shot Harry a withering glance and slapped him on the head again.

"Don't steal my thunder, Anakin Skywalker-copycat."

"Er, what?" Harry asked blankly.

But then, out of the shadows, a dark figure swooped down and alighted on the ground silently. The dark shadow rose to its feet, towering – a pitch black - that loomed over Harry and Dumbledore…

"DEMENTOR!" shrieked Harry. He dove into the dumpster.

Dumbledore's eye twitched. "I do say, you are a skittish thing, aren't you?" He turned to the dark shadow. "I see you got my note."

"I don't do notes," growled the shadow in the scariest voice Harry had ever heard.

Dumbledore glowered. "So you didn't get it?"

"I threw it out."

"Threw it out! That paper costs a pound a pack!"

The dark shadow glared at Dumbledore, who swallowed nervously and tugged at his robes.

"Yes, well… I need a favor."

"I don't do favors."

"It is of great importance. The world is at stake."

"The world's always at stake," growled the shadow. "And I don't trust magic."

"I don't trust him, either," Harry was brave enough to pipe up.

"Quiet, shrimp!" Dumbledore snapped.

The shadow seemed to consider Dumbledore. "Tell me what you want or get out," it growled.

Dumbledore swallowed. "I need you to defeat the most powerful wizard of all time. Minus me, of course."

The shadow's icy white eyes narrowed. Harry squealed and dove back in the dumpster.

"Fine. But we do it on my terms, Gandalf-copycat."

Dumbledore frowned. "Why you…"

The shadow snarled, and Dumbledore squeaked, stepping back. "Er, of course…"

It was dark at the Malfoy's mansion. Lord Voldemort, aka He Who Shall Not Be Named, aka You Know Who, aka Speak His Name And You Burst Into Flames aka Snakish Stupidness aka Baldie aka Dude Who Got His Butt Handed To Him By A Baby was pacing the dark room, brooding on ways to destroy Dumbledore and Harry Potter.

He didn't notice a dark shadow slipping into the room until he turned around. He halted, stared at the intruder. The dark shadow's white lenses narrowed.

There was only one person who could sneak up on Voldemort.

Batman.

Voldie looked at Batman.

Batman bat-glared at Voldie.

"I'm Batman," he growled.

Voldie blinked. Blinked again. Then, he shrieked, dropped his wand, and ran off screaming.

Batman smirked.

THE END

Told you it was random. :D

- Serena