The End

by HermanTumbleweed

PARODY-Humor One Shot One humorous way in which we might have seen a much earlier end of the dastardly depraved dark dink. Rated for language & insanity causing decidedly depraved diabolical content. My sincere apologies if you suffer brain damage.

The End

by

Herman Tumbleweed

Ye Aulde Disclaimer: No thesauruses (thesauri?) or dictionaries were harmed in the writing of this punny exercise of the authors imagined mastery of the art of alliteration, although actually, at least one brain may have been fried. The Author owns very little, much less the Harry Potter universe. If you think he does, please check yourself into the nearest psychiatric facility… erm, come to think on it, after you read this you may need to anyway.

Ye Aulde Additional Disclaimer: The author assumes no legal or implied responsibility for damage to fanatical fans, prized peripherals, and cherished computers caused by spit-takes. Please keep all food and beverages out of reach for the duration of the ensuing insanity (unless you have no sense of humour).

Ye Aulde A/N: I should probably apologize right now for inflicting this on you, but I won't. Read at your own risk. I'd try blaming Crys again for this one, but my conscience won't let me. smirk I suppose you could blame my three cats whose names are Luscious Lily, Shameless Amos, and Pansy Andy.

Another Ye Aulde A/N (again?): al·lit·er·a·tion /əˌlɪtəˈreɪʃən/ Pronunciation Key[uh-lit-uh-rey-shuhn : the commencement of two or more words of a word group with the same letter, as in apt alliteration's artful aid.

Here begineth ye aulde story…

It was the first week of June and nearing the time of OWL and NEWT testing at Hoggy Warty Hogwarts. Fifth year student Harry Potter was tired and as stressed as anyone, perhaps more than most. He had not slept well in months, and, along with the incessant studying, his dreams and even his waking hours were often interrupted by the snake faced git he had grown exceedingly bored with. He needed to do something, and the time was finally at hand. He'd waited for certain things to fall in place which would ensure the great gormless gargoyle, Vicious Voldie-Woldie, would show up when and where he wanted.

Harry was ready, willing, able, and he was sick to death of seeing that stupid corridor in the Department of Mysteries every night, several times ad-nauseum. Today was the day when the Wizarding World would be amazed, astounded, and ultimately, inestimably incensed (though that would take a bit longer). His pernicious partner and he had set things up just right for the humiliation and death of a disturbingly dastardly dark lord with an over inflated ego. (His bright friend had pointed out that Vaultimart was actually over-compensating for a lack of self-esteem from an abusive and deprived childhood.) (Harry secretly thought it was because the man was sexually challenged and had had a depraved childhood, but didn't tell his friend.)

At present our yearning youth was in potions class, and as Harry stirred his cauldron he reviewed their carefully laid plans which would come to fruition within the hour. He noted the overgrown bat was working his/its way toward Harry's desk for the first time in a while, quite by design of course. Snark, or rather Snape, had been avoiding The Boy Who Invaded Pensieves ever since the incident when the latter had taken a small peek into the former's stored memories.

Who could have guessed that the Bilious Bat, scourge of (non-Slytherin) potions students and all things Gryffindor, would be so careless, let alone so thin skinned, about his past. Yes, Harry had been wrong, but what kind of dolt would leave a pensieve out for any curious person to slip into. Let's face it, teens, as a group, are a curious lot; it's part of their charm. (Note: Author makes no claim to currently owning one of these creatures - ed.)

Never one to cry over spilt potions, Harry had actually learned a couple of valuable things from the Occlumency "lessons". The first was never turn your back on Snape, especially in a pensieve. The other was never trust Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore – under any circumstances – to look out for anyone's interests but those of the greater good (unless they were the interests of Albuse Dumbledark himself).

Anyone with as many names as the hard headed headmaster had a high probability ofbeing a pretentiously pompous peacock anyway, in Harry's opinion. And he'd come to realize the ostentatious overbearing obtuse personage of the so-called greatest wizard of the modern age was just that, arrogant and self-serving. His opinion of the headpester had steadily fallen over the year and whatever affection he'd felt for the man was long dead. Said lack of respect was because Harry learned had learned a number of interesting facts, not the least of which was how the scheming old man had manipulated Harry's life well beyond the bounds of common decency.

So, with the conceited conniving curmudgeon ignoring him, which largely suited Harry just fine, the young wizard and his able associate had taken it upon themselves to do a "bit" of research in addition to classes, studying, homework, the DA, and other normal teenage activities. They had searched the library until their brains were fair fried, but then had finally found the lead on that which they needed to know, and what could ultimately be done about certain problems. One small book had opened avenues of research to them that would blow Irma Pince's mind into oblivion, had she any idea. They had also decided Hermione's head would explode.

It was exciting to have discovered that no one in this part of the world, not even the "exalted" headmaster, knew of what they had discovered. Harry had smirked fit to break his face and his favourite Gryffindor had nearly passed out. (He wasn't sure, but he thought she'd orgasmed which may have accounted for the swooning.) He'd learned she was as passionate for knowledge, if not more so, than the brainy bushy-haired… girl.

The two were ecstatic when, less than a fortnight earlier, they had tied up the last of the loose ends and obtained all they needed to in order to fulfil their destiny. And they were certain it was indeed their shared destiny. APeWooBie Dumblebore was not the only person in Hogwarts with secrets. The thought made Harry smile over at his friend, who smiled pleasantly back at him.

At that moment the swooping-bat form of one Severus Snape, known torturer of Hogwarts' staff rules, alleged traitorous spy in Voldemort's camp, and truly terrible teacher, sidled up to Harry's work bench. "What," it/he intoned silkily, "are you smiling at, Potter. If you knew at all what you were doing, you would not be smiling in the least at this stage of your sorry attempt to brew the currently assigned potion. You would instead be concentrating on not failing miserably, as you normally do."

Harry couldn't help but give a small grin and wink to his cohort, before turning his attention to the purported potions professor and looking at the man/thing with a look of bored curiosity. "I beg your pardon, Mr Prin… er Snape," the man turned pale(r) at the apparent slip of the tongue, "but what is it about my ability in potions that makes you think I am anywhere close to as untalented as, say, Malfoy the Moronic Miscreant over there." Voice taking on a tone of malice, he added, "I have rarely failed to correctly brew a potion with the exception of incidents involving his or someone else's interference. Had you and your Snakes… er, I mean Slytherin students not taken every effort to destroy or otherwise damage my efforts in your sorry excuse for a class I'd be getting top marks. Well, I suppose I'd be getting top marks from a mature professor, one who doesn't carry schoolboy grudges for over twenty years."

"I came to realize, not long ago," he went on forcefully, not giving the piss-poor professor a chance to interrupt, "that I am an excellent potions brewer, without you and your inbred slimy, supposedly superior, Slytherin Pureblood pustules frustrating my efforts at every turn. Over this year, I have taken the time to correctly brew every potion assigned to us since first year, and then made every one on the syllabus in your alleged NEWT potions classes and several I know are not. Every one of those potions has turned out perfectly and been certified by an independent evaluator. I can therefore only assume that you have graded my efforts to a standard no one in the world could match, yourself included. So why don't you bugger off and let me finish brewing this sad excuse for a lesson."

Having had his say, Harry simply sat back and glared acerbically, albeit with a small smirk, at the obviously enraged overgrown erkling. But just as the puffed-up popinjay opened his mouth to speak, he got a decidedly pained look on his face and moved his right hand toward his left forearm, seeming to only stop himself from grabbing it at the last instant. He tottered off to the door to his office, and then turned to instruct, in an angry, but pained, tone of voice, "Finish your lame efforts and leave a sample on my desk. And as for you Potter," he sneered, "thirty points from Gryffindor for your cheek, and another thirty for insulting a Professor." The door slammed behind him and a few moments later they heard footsteps hurrying up the corridor toward the front of the castle.

Harry was smiling broadly, despite glares from everyone else in the room, except, naturally, from his accomplished accessory to crimes-yet-to-be-committed against spineless slimy slugs. The impish grin and wink from said person almost had him laughing.

Meanwhile, the other Gryffindors were grumbling about him having lost sixty points for the house, as if house points were the most important thing in the world. The Slytherins were grumpily grousing over his real and imagined slights to their house, their beloved head of said house, and their pureblood honour (as if they had any or even knew the meaning of the word). Harry was singularly unaffected by either, as was his co-conspirator.

Trying not to laugh, they were both watching Malfoy, who was stewing at Harry's comments and growing hotter under the collar by the second, as he worked feverishly, if ineffectually, over his own potion. Said effort was obviously failing miserably judging by the brownish-green steam rising from the cauldron. Harry just winked once more at the knowing look from his comrade, and, shrugging his shoulders, poured a sample of his own potion into a flask for marking. His best friend did likewise and both marched up to the professor's desk to leave the samples in the rack provided. Surreptitiously they cast Unbreakable charms on the glass and a nifty little hex that would badly sting anyone but the professor who attempted to pick up or open it. In truth, both were as unconcerned with the grade they would receive as they were with the grumbling going on around the room. But, they wanted to keep up appearances for the moment by doing as instructed.

He knew Malfoy would come after him once class was over; counted on it, in fact. It would provide an opportunity to put the prissy pusillanimous prick in his proper place once and for all.

Having finished their potions, and without Sneakius Snipe to stop them, the two cleaned up their workstations, packed up their things, and left the classroom. They were the first ones finished, drawing additional glares from a certain fellow Gryffindor, and saw no reason to hang about. Besides which, they wanted to be on time for their appointment with destiny, and to draw Malfoy outside as well. They were almost giddy with the excitement of taking down not just one nemesis, but probably all of them at once. It was such a wonderful thing to look forward to.

At the entrance hall, the two close companions dropped their book bags just inside the doors of the Great Hall, and ambled out across the grounds to await the arrival of their expected guests. It was such a lovely day out, they almost hated to spoil it, but the time was now, and the place was here. In actuality the place was the entrance gates, but they were slowly strolling in that direction. They were fairly sure they had a bit of time yet, and didn't want to appear too anxious for confrontation when company showed up. It would be unseemly to appear too cocky and anxious at a time like this; decorum being absolutely necessary to the British sensibilities, after all.

They were about twenty yards from the gates when they heard a shout from behind. Both turned to see, another arrogant alleged educator exiting from the castle, namely Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor, recently self-appointed Headmistress of Hogwarts, and all around notoriously noxious nincompoop. She would be too late (not to mention unable) to stop what was about to happen. As well, would be Professor McGonagall, who hurried from the castle shortly after her much shorter, and considerably broader, colleague.

He grinned, as, true to form, Malfoy, the other Snakes, and assorted other Slytherins boiled out of the castle doors, just behind McGonagall, and rushed towards Harry and his bosom buddy. It looked like the rest of the school was right behind as well. The two Gryffindor's continued their leisurely stroll toward the gates, stopping about ten feet from them.

She checked her watch, and smirked. All the players should be right on time. As Muffboy, McGonagall, and Waddles approached, more or less at the same time, she counted down, "Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five," the hurrying Hogwarts host was almost upon them. Actually they were almost upon the barrier that would stop, and protect, all of them (it would stop a tank, supposedly, but they'd never had one to test it with). Harry had erected it with a thought, and a slight wiggle of the pinkie on his left hand. A good portion of the students were already following, and more still hurrying out the doors to witness whatever was going on.

The lusty (though Harry thought he saw too little of that side of her, as any teenage boy would) lass languidly continued counting "Four…three…two…one…" and she snapped her fingers.

At that moment a large number of apparation pops, cracks, and bangs (the senior Crabbe and Goyle among those responsible for the latter) sounded outside the impressive gates which were bracketed by enormous pilasters adorned by wondrous winged boars. Harry and his sweet sassy lassie turned from smirking at the Uhm, barge and the poncey pussy, to smile devilishly at the new arrivals. Harry waved his hand quite ostentatiously and the gates clanged shut in front of the mindless misled multitude of Mouldy-Voldie supporters. He turned for a moment to aim a large wink at Professor McGonagall, but wasn't sure if she caught it before he spun back to greet the "guests".

As the daringly devious duo watched the new arrivals ardently assemble, they took a few moments to look over the massed motley minions in their varying shades of black robes and more or less white masks. Seeing them all together like this it was almost comical how their outfits did not match at all. There were numerous variations in the styles of robes and masks, and endless colour variations. It was really quite amusing, given how these incomprehensibly incompetent idiots could strike fear into the hearts of the British Wizarding World's citizenry.

Harry and his pretty partner were often saddened when they thought about the state of the populace in their world, and they had spoken of it many times. These few hundred people, many of whom had barely enough magic not to be classified as squibs, could cause incredible mayhem among the sheeple who claimed to be better than Muggles.

Little did the fools of the European Wizarding World realize that, in point of fact, they could, and likely would, virtually disappear in the next few generations unless some drastic measures were taken. And that was not to account for what could happen if Muggles once more became aware of them and decided to protect themselves from the "evils of magic". Plans were in place to make the needed changes to help the Wizarding World of Europe survive. The sheeple were all in for a rude awakening.

While awaiting the imminent appearance of the Dick Lost (Harry had, regrettably, seen It rise in all Its nekkid glory from that cursed cauldron. His having had a clear view of the body, and unfortunately what was not between Its legs, was why he considered It sexually challenged), the terribly terrific two looked fondly at each other and linked their hands together. He thought to her, "Remember how this all started?"

She laughed aloud, but thought back to him, "Silly question, your grace. How could I forget?"

He responded, "No need to get pithy, and call me names." But, he was still smiling.

"Yes, your grace, whatever you say your dukeness. Is it my fault you had to show me that manky old book and then when we tracked things down, you found yourself to be heir to the duchy of magical Europe? Her Majesty was ever so pleased and impressed, though," she smirked.

"Yes, well, she didn't have to knight me just to drive the point home during the investiture ceremony," he groused good naturedly. He then smirked back as he reminded her, "If we get married someday, that will make you a duchess, you know." It was a fun argument they'd had in several iterations over the past couple of months.

She took on a haughty look and glared, although with a smile teasing the corners of her lips, "What do you mean IF, Potter?" She then turned the LOOK on him, the one that always made his knees go weak. It was the look she had whenever they were snogging each other's brains out. He'd probably never understand how she could replicate that out of the blue like this.

She smiled at him then, and they shared thoughts as they waited, from each of their perspectives, on how this whole shebang had begun quite innocently a couple of days past the previous Halloween…

Here begineth ye aulde flashback

That evening Harry got fed up again with the fighting between Hermione and Ron, and his anger, which had been constantly near the surface for months, boiled over. He snarled some snarky sentiment and left them sitting speechless, momentarily at least, at the trio's usual study spot in the Gryffindor common room. Books, parchments, and whatnot clutched in his arms, he'd stormed out through the portrait hole, mowing the girl down.

The collision between the two scattered both his and her belongings in a blizzard of flying parchment, books, quills, ink bottles, and miscellaneous paraphernalia. Needless to say, the two of them were not immune to flying either, as they ricocheted off each other. Landing several feet apart, both lay there stunned long enough to be partially covered by the parchment snowstorm. Regaining his senses, Harry sat up and then rushed over to help her to her feet, apologizing profusely and carefully assuring himself she was unhurt.

In mild exasperation, she'd finally stamped a foot and said, "Harry! I'm fine! Chill out and help me sort this mess. I was hurrying too, and not looking where I was going either."

Contritely, Harry had gotten down on hands and knees and began collecting things. He apologized again about her notes and stuff being all mixed up with his.

After amusedly watching him for a few moments, she snickered and demanded, "Harry, are you a wizard, or not?"

He looked up in amazement as the simple solution to the mess they had created in their hurry came to him like magic. As Hermione had done at a similar question back in first year, he blushed, but then said, "Right! Er, the thing is, I don't know a spell to do that."

It was then he found out that his soon-to-be-best-friend was not at all the airhead she often appeared to be. In wonder, he watched as she cast a quick series of spells which cleaned up the spilled ink, gathered the quills and other items into neat little stacks, and then sorted their notes and books into piles for each of them.

Once things were nicely arranged, they began stuffing it all into their book bags. She asked, "Where were you off to in such a hurry?"

With a snort, he told her, "Ron and Hermione were arguing again, and I just couldn't take any more of it. I don't sleep well, and there are some things going on I can't really talk to anyone about."

She put her hand on his arm and said softly, "You can talk to me, Harry. Why don't we go somewhere and chat for awhile. Despite that one shared disaster, we've never taken the chance to really get to know each other all that well. My usual study partner is… tied up with someone else right now, so let's go find a quiet place to talk, and to study even, if you like."

He smiled, a real true smile, for the first time in weeks. She was being friendlier than he could ever remember. He also knew that disaster she mentioned was the only time she'd ever treated him as anything more than just another student. He had always reckoned that was easily as much his fault as hers. He wasn't sure why he ignored her most of the time, when now she seemed so pleasant and open. He chalked it up to them moving in different circles, as it were. The two had been classmates for nearly five years and Harry realized he knew next to nothing about her.

They had talked for a while, in an unused classroom not too far from the common room, and then spent quite a long while studying together. He found her to be witty, charming, and every bit as intelligent as Hermione and others he knew. At one point, his mind drifting from studying, he idly wondered why she and Hermione weren't in Ravenclaw. However, after only a couple of hours of studying and talking openly about themselves and just getting to know each other better, he was extremely glad shewasn't.

Studying together soon turned into a daily thing, as they both wanted to do well on their OWLs and knew it would take a lot of work. As well, they had found, after only that one evening, they greatly enjoyed being together. Having talked with each other a lot over the next few weeks he had come to trust her as much as he did his other friends, even more so in the end. Eventually he had told her things known only to the few friends he had spent last summer with at Grimmauld Place.

Almost inevitably, the day had come when he began telling her things he'd told to no one, ever. It was liberating to do so, and her honest acceptance of what and who he was prompted him to become even more open to her, confiding his fears and desires. As he did, she too became more forthcoming, sharing her secrets and needs, and wishes. In time they had divulged their deepest, darkest secrets and their hearts' desires to one another. It was then they truly discovered how closely they matched, how compatible it seemed they were.

It was a few weeks after that serendipitous collision that Harry had the first of his instant blinding headaches, accompanied by a vision of Warty-Voldie, to occur in her presence. They were alone in the classroom they and others used for a quiet place, and at first it had frightened her considerably. Like a true Gryffindor, though, she rose to the occasion by trying to care for him as he writhed on the floor in excruciating pain. She cradled his head in her lap while he moaned, muttered, and held his hands to his forehead. All the while she crooned soft words of comfort, stroking his hair, until he stopped moving so violently. Then she just held him until he came out of it and felt better.

Harry was quite surprised to come back to himself and find his upper body was being held in her lap, though he did find it a pleasant experience. He thought it had been very much nicer than coming to face down on the cold stone floors. From that moment on their relationship grew deeper as they gradually became closer and closer.

It was that incident, and a few others like it, that prompted her to prod Harry into doing extra research into what was causing it. She had tried to talk to the headmaster, but found he was as reticent to speak with her as he was with Harry. It was something which neither of them thought was the proper way for the old man to behave toward his students, but knew they could do nothing to change his mind. That was when they started after hours raids on the library.

Through judicious use of his invisibility cloak, they had taken to spending a few late nights each week in the library searching the restricted section for whatever they could find that might apply to Harry's problem with the snake faced monster. In spotting a certain manky old tome, that self-same stupid screaming volume Harry had run across in first year, the young witch had exclaimed, almost reverently, that she had heard about this book from her mother and was amazed there was a copy at Hogwarts. She told Harry there were only three known copies in the world, and thought it might have something to help him.

The amazed young woman then owled her mother and the excited sounding reply said there was a simple incantation to be recited over the book before opening it which would temporarily neutralize its protections. The thing actually worked, so, without the book screaming this time, they carefully perused the contents and finally found an obscure reference in a footnote which led them to another section of the book, which led to other tomes, which in time led to a small book tucked away in a corner of a shelf, which they nearly overlooked.

It was in that slim volume, hardly bigger than a booklet, that they found the fruit of their quest. The book had instructed them in how to open a secret magical doorway to a treasure trove of information on all things in the magical world, including types of highly advanced and currently unknown, lost in the mists of time, magic. It was then that she had her little fainting episode, which Harry still smirked at her about occasionally.

They were never sure where they went to when they accessed that doorway, but found they could apparently do so from anywhere in the castle. Having taken to entering from the room of requirement, which would obligingly set itself up as a comfortable study area, they eventually spent more and more time there. Once they opened the portal for the first time the small book had simply vanished, having done its job for now.

However, they found that time passed differently in that other library, and they could be in there for a very long time while very little time passed on the outside. They concluded it was roughly two hours to each five minutes of normal time, or about twenty-four hours for each two in their world.

By that time they were nearly inseparable, spending most of their time together, including Hogsmeade weekends. They never called them dates, but both knew they were. Harry hadn't thought he was ready for a girlfriend; hadn't really considered having one at all. But, he did like having someone to truly share things with, and who was fully committed to helping him in his crazy life. It was just an easy and fun relationship that they found suited them both.

His fits of temper had decreased considerably, to his relief as well as hers and others. When they spent time with Ron and Hermione she had been marginally accepted by them, at his insistence. In truth, she and Harry both liked being together away from others the most, especially his other two best friends and their sniping at each other. It was distracting, as were the crowds in the common room, so they had often done their studying in the library or that same unused classroom. Until, that is, the new library came to their knowing.

After finding the portal to The Merlin Library, the name for which they'd found in the small book, almost all of their study time was spent away from others, and inside the wondrous place. It seemed to bother Hermione that he wasn't studying with her and Ron and thereby getting help from her, the Gryffindor queen of learning. He was still getting top marks, better in fact than he'd ever done, which bugged her even more. Ron hardly seemed to notice. He was all caught up in being a Quidditch player, and spent as much time as he could on the pitch. He occasionally would look oddly at Harry, who seemed to have become so much better at magic and in class work, but the redhead's interest went no further.

By this time Harry had, of course, been banned from Quidditch by bimbo Ubitch. He missed it, but the discovery of The Merlin Library coupled with his friend's honest zest for learning drew him into her passion. In truth, Harry was never a bad student, had just never enjoyed studying until he started doing so with her. She made it fun and quite interesting to learn, unlike Hermione who just made it like work… too much like his time was with the Dursleys who made everything like work.

When the Holidays came, the couple sorely hated the separation as Harry went to Grimmauld place and she went home to her family. Even though they had been spending time together for less than two months, they'd already become quite close. Hedwig got a good workout with their letters back and forth to each other during that time.

Besides missing each other, they'd discovered The Merlin Library just before the hols and both were anxious to return and continue learning there. Within that Mother Lode of information was what could only be described as something like the Library at Alexandria on steroids. It was an incredible resource which helped them immeasurably with the research on Riddle and his connection to Harry, but also with their own magical education. They were soon outstripping their classmates and had to dial it back, dumb themselves down to their classmates' level, so as not to cause suspicion.

Mind arts, which went well beyond the crudities of Occlumency and Legillimency, had been one of the things they had studied intensely soon after finding The Merlin Library. It somewhat relieved the problem with Snake-Shit-for-Brains, but didn't entirely eliminate them. Still, something was better than nothing as the episodes no longer caused such intense pain.

In the months following the holidays, and the episode with Mr Weasley, Harry pretended to learn a smattering of Occlumency from Snape, knowing full well the man wasn't really teaching him a damned thing. Still, it was fun toying with the berk's head. He was as bright and crafty as they come, but he also had huge prejudices and blind spots; Potter (and Gryffindor) abilities and intelligence being high on that list.

It was in early February when they had a breakthrough. Quite by accident, they had found a section detailing the lives of every witch and wizard in the magical world which automatically updated constantly. They had a lot of fun looking up their own lives and those of their friends and family. But then they'd gotten serious and looked up the headmuchster hoping to learn what made him tick, and hopefully to be able to understand why he was acting the way he was. What they found forever changed how they saw the man, and steepened the downhill slide of their respect for him.

Dumbledore's history was not at all a man who had always espoused tolerance, had in fact once been friends with Grindelwald and had conspired with him; had been a pureblood bigot as much as the Malfoys and others. They were amazed, and in some cases appalled, by the interesting facts of his life. Ultimately, the pair twigged on the notion that his being so busy, largely with outside interests, was the reason for problems in the school. In short, that was the reason there was an extremely boring ghost teaching history, a fruit bat teaching divination (they'd found the other reason as well), and an overgrown bat teaching potions (found those reasons too). He was more concerned with the big picture, with protecting valuable resources in the fight against dark lords, than with paying attention to the details and strife within his own school.

Those revelations made them extremely angry, and that was to say nothing of how he had meddled in and highly screwed up Harry's life and that of Sirius Black. By then he'd told her the truth about his godfather, and she commiserated with him over not being able to grow up with the man as his guardian..

With some trepidation, especially after learning of the headmankster's past, they looked up Riddle. That was when they learned of the Horcruxes. Harry was astounded when they pieced together, from the information given, that the problems Harry was having were because he also contained a portion of the slimy snake's soul. It had apparently been Snake Face's idea to create a Horcrux using the death of baby Harry. Now, knowing he had part of another's soul, especially that soul, in his head totally freaked him out for a while. She efficiently helped him get over it by the astute use of a generous dollop of snogging, something they had only recently started indulging themselves in now and then. Harry thought that was a nice way to be brought out of his foul mood.

They'd been able, within the next week, to find all they needed to know about Horcruxes, which was easily done in The Merlin Library. In short order they knew precisely what each one was, how to get their hands on them, and how to destroy them. Obtaining the carefully hidden items turned out to be incredibly simple. They had found a summoning spell which would cause any specific magical item under a dark curse to appear where the caster wanted it to.

In a short while they had four assorted valuable artefacts on a table in The Merlin Library, where the foul things could be left without fear of losing them. Having all the horcruxes, except for the one that had been in the diary and the one that was Nagini, they devised a strategy which would ensure Tom could never reincarnate again. It would have been easier, certainly, to just destroy them there in that storehouse of magical knowledge and then destroy snake face, but his perky partner said that would not have any flair to it.

After she outlined her idea, she told him mischievously, "Harry, if we do it this way, we can make a statement to all and sundry that if you mess with Harry Potter, you cannot win. It has panache… it has style… it is very cool." She grinned at him, and he conceded her point by grinning, and then gently kissing her soft lips.

"So now," he told her, "we really only need to find the best way to make sure he is taken down and the Dearth Voiders can't mess with us while we do that."

"I think I saw some things that will help with the Voiders, but I'm not sure on The Riddler. Maybe you can go study some of those curse and hex books we were looking at last week for how to handle Snake Lips? And I'll go see what I can find in the way of charms and such to take care of the Daft Farters." She giggled at her new nickname, covering her mouth and flushing a little.

He laughed aloud, grinning like a fool he was sure. They both loved how they'd changed around each other; he became more focused on his studies, and she had loosened up from the proper pureblood upraising she'd had.

With a quick kiss, they each set off on their assigned tasks. Within a few hours they were back together showing off what they had found. As they tore her initial idea apart and then put together a plan on parchment, it became clear it could and would work; it was just that the timing would be rather close. The Queen's input had made it that way, but her solution was even more cool than any they'd come up with before that. They figured they could get the help of the Room of Requirement for practice. And practice they did, but in a room in The Merlin Library which was similar to, but much better than, the Hogwarts' Room of Requirement.

In all they spent over three years in The Merlin Library learning everything they could. It would have been easy to spend even more time there, but for not wanting to have noticeable changes happen to them physically. The greatest limitation of the time spent there, was that their bodies continued to grow and age, although at a much slower rate, but they still noticed some changes. Miraculously to them, they still learned enough in that span to be able to bypass the OWLs completely. They probably knew more than many of the professors, who'd been studying magic for many years, because their time there was concentrated on only that. As well, some of the types of magic they learned were quite far advanced and the library made everything easier, simpler and faster to learn and use.

Perhaps the greatest thing to have happened was that they grew up in that extraordinary place and found their childhood was long gone. In Harry's case, he'd lost that when he killed Quirrdemort. In reviewing that incident and others it brought into even sharper relief the manipulations and eminently poor judgement of the old buzzard, as they had taken to calling him. It made them sad to think he had so badly mishandled Harry's life; had, in point of fact, no right whatsoever to have done so. Some time spent with the goblins and a wizard Barrister had confirmed that.

Here endeth ye aulde flashback

Now all that practice was coming to fruition. They were fairly sure they had planned for as many contingencies as possible. They'd even read The Art of War by Sun Tzu and a number of books on strategic and tactical thinking. They knew that once the "fit hit the shan" it was all a crapshoot as to what could happen. In other words no battle plan survived first contact with the enemy. However, they were as adept at magic as anyone on the planet; perhaps even more so. It made them feel good to know they knew much that the manipulative old headmonster, and the pretentious prick of a self-named lord did not know.

Only a couple of minutes after the first of the motley minions arrived, the star of the show conveniently showed up with Lucky Luscious, Sneaky Snape, Buxom Bella, (they each thought the trollop had to be using magic to enhance those mangy mounds), and Weasel Wormtail, along with the rest of the "inner circle".

Behind them they could hear McGonagall crying out for them to wait for help from the Mankistry and the Odour. Waddles Umbarge was yelling for them to halt or they would be expelled, their wands snapped, and be sent to Azkaban. Mini-Mind Malfoy, who had miraculously managed to run part of the way and get ahead of the professors, started running again only to smash headlong into the barrier Harry had placed. The resounding thump of the pusillanimous puerile prick impacting the mage's merciless magical construct caused them to turn and watch as Crabbe and Goyle who'd been right behind him barrelled blindly, and needless to say heavily, into him just as he started to rebound. The resulting splat of the three bodies left Malfoy very bloodied with what appeared to be many assorted injuries and broken bones, and all three of them unconscious. The other two didn't seem badly hurt, just knocked out.

Out in front of the gates, where they promptly returned their attention, the other Silly Shit was shouldering aside his massed mayhem mongers shouting for them to "move the bloody hell out of" his way. He had no idea a spell had deafened all the moron minions within a hundred yards of the gates, which was, in fact, all of them. It was therefore a rather out of breath dark lord who was making slow progress, now nearly half way though the throng. The ones in front of the ones being shoved, turned to see their focused fearless felonious leader and scuttled out of the way, causing a rather wave-like ripple in the horrendous horde to each side.

Actually, Harry didn't really consider it a horde, more like a large crowd. Admittedly there were perhaps three hundred or so, but that didn't really constitute a horde in his book. His pulchritudinous partner silently agreed. He thought to her. "Seems like he'd have had more allies than this after a year of recruitment, don't you think?"

"Yes," she thought back, "it would seem so, but since the Misinformistry has taken it upon themselves to ignore and actively repudiate his untimely return he has been able to recruit in secret as he did before. Don't forget that he took nearly ten years to build up his army the last time before launching his terror campaign."

"Very true. I rather wish he had taken a bit longer this time as well. I'd like to have had time to, hopefully, find a less messy way to do this." He paused to smirk at his lovely lass because she bumped his shoulder with hers at his obfuscation. "Oh well, I hope the moronic masses have strong stomachs. You think I should help him out now?" His smirk turned diabolical.

Her own fiendish smile in place, she said aloud, "I do believe it is time to, as the Yanks say, 'get the show on the road'."

With a slight twitch of his right pinkie, the hand coincidentally holding hers, the Dorky Lordy and his faithless fearful snake companion (and Horcrux) were levitated twelve feet off the ground (at the level of his feet for my fellow OCD sufferers). With a twitch of her index finger (right hand in case you wondered), It and Its accompanying anaconda/black mamba cross were summoned rather rapidly the last thirty or so yards. Harry lowered Snake Shit and snake in a not so gentle arc as they approached the gates. He and his lovely lady laughed at the terrified look on the snake like countenance just before it contacted the gate grills. This, of course was followed immediately by the meaty slap of some three hundred pounds of future snake steak also impacting said grill.

Fortunately, the wonky wacked-out wizard, the impact was not quite enough to cause serious harm to either one, though both were quite dazed and fell to the ground groaning…well, at least the semi-human groaned… the snake gave a loud series of hisses.

Harry said off-handedly, "That is his…her? I think it's a her. Anyway that is the snake's equivalent of "What the fuck was that?" or something along those lines. Parseltongue doesn't lend itself well to direct translation, doncha know," he explained.

"Pity, that," she mourned." I wish you could teach me Parseltongue. We'll have to see what we can find in the Library on that. I'm sure there must be something there… some ancient snake charmer spell or such."

"Hmm," he replied, "perhaps. I'm sure we'll have time before our NEWTs to look into it. Those are scheduled for next week right?"

"Yes, love, you know very well when they are scheduled. Are you sure you don't want to take the OWLs and then take the NEWTs at the Muckistry over the summer?"

"Yes, dear, I do know when they are scheduled, but the readers might not so quit complaining. As for OWLs, why bother. I'm sure after we finish here today it won't matter what we do. I think a few NEWTs should be sufficient for the Ministry Morons if we should want to work there," he smirked sinfully. She giggled gaily at his little joke.

Behind the proudly powerful pair there were continued sounds of shouting, primarily McGonagall and Tilley Toad Tush, who had apparently cast Sonorous charms on themselves. They were alternately calling out dire warnings to wait for help (by the former), and dire threats (by the latter) that they would find themselves in deep doo-doo (though she used more colourful language) if they didn't cease and desist the illegal magic they were casting. The devious dynamic duo was singularly unaffected by either.

They were also completely unfazed by Lucky Lucy, Bubbles Bella, and Snippy Snape who were followed by Wimp-Wuss Wormtail, as they shouted vicious invectives and ploughed forward (all except Wimp-Wuss, who, being the last only semi-ploughed). The four foul felonious followers, and incidentally inner circle cream-of-the-cow-dung, were working their way the last few metres through the thoughtless throng towards where their malignantly malicious master lay at the feet of the front rank of cowering clods.

Lucky, being the first to arrive, cast a nasty looking curse in the pleased pair's general direction. It looked like he only meant it as a distraction, as he fell to his knees beside his demanding despotic dictator. (Or should that be: would-be-dictator? – ed.) The spell was absorbed by Hogwarts' emergency defensive enchantments. Nagini, on the other hand, was coming back around and started eyeing Wormtail as he got clear of the crowd. Said wretched raunchy rat quickly hid behind Bella.

As had been part of their plan, in that they wanted to free Sirius, handsomely heroic Harry twitched his pinkie again levitating said rat, and pretty Parvati Patil's index finger also twitched to summon him/it. While he/it was being summoned Harry wiggled his left middle finger and waggled his right thumb causing the foolish fetid felon's wand to be instantly transhipped to the ground in front of them and he/it to become bound in steel cable, neck to feet. As he/it approached she cancelled the summoning and he the levitation causing the now bestially bound bundle to fly past them and impact the ground a short distance behind, and then to skid-roll into the barrier between them and Hogwarts. She wiggled her right pinkie and he/it was enveloped in a visible animagus containment spell.

Glancing over his shoulder he saw McGonagall with a look of horror on her face as she recognized the recalcitrant rat rump as her former student who was supposedly dead. It had taken the highly intelligent Deputy Headmistress precisely three and a half nanoseconds to achieve total belief that this thing was the reason Sirius Black had been imprisoned. Harry knew she'd not been fully convinced previously. He was glad, since now at least one more truly good person was on Sirius' side. Not that it would matter in the end.

The cheerful champion's attention was brought back to the front by the sound of another large number of apparation cracks some distance behind Vaultamart's bamboozled barbarian bloc. The "bloc" found it was collectively unable to move at all, except for Lucky Lucy, Butch Bella and Snasty Snape whom the courageous comely couple still had plans for. Lucky was still attempting to bring Snake Lips back from la-la land, marginally assisted by Snasty. Butch, or rather, Bella chose that moment to start casting curse after hex after vicious dark spell at the gates, which were almost as effective as the one Lucky cast moments before. Harry noted all the magic was being absorbed into Hogwarts emergency enchantments and was helping to strengthen them. She was also viciously venting vociferously at Harry.

The plucky persistent pair merely smirked again at Butch, and he said, "Now Bella, dearie, is that any way for a lady to speak? And after all we've meant to each other, I'm crushed you could call me such things."

Apparently thinking to sneakily invade the mind of Pretty Parvati, who chose that moment to briefly observe the efforts to revive Snake-Shit-for-Brains, Snasty snapped his wand up in her direction, drawing her gaze, and spat, "Legilimens." Had he even the slightest hint of what would happen when he did, he'd never have cast the spell. But, as has been mentioned before, Snarky did have some huge blind spots.

Seeing as how the bellicose batty berk still thought he was operating autonomously, Parvati allowed his spell to enter the area then sort of reversed it. First she showed him what she had done to him, then she showed him what Harry wanted to do to him, and finally went to searching his mind for the truth of his allegiance. What she found didn't exactly settle her mind a whole lot, and knew Harry would not like some of it either.

In point of fact, Snape would do anything to ensure he came out on the winning side, so he had determinedly and shrewdly played both sides against each other. Not only that, he had been the one to relate the first part of the prophecy to Volticort, and had carried a torch for Harry's mum, Lily, until her death.

That last one totally squicked out the gorgeous girl genius. She decided Harry didn't need to know about that one at the moment, it might slow up their plans for the day… and he had promised her dinner for two in the Room of Requirement served by the house elves (who incidentally adored her as much as they did His Graceness, Harry Potter, Mage Duke of all Europe) followed by extended intensive snogging at the completion of today's entertainment. What more could a woman ask for – diversion, dinner, and delicious dessert.

Just before withdrawing from his mind she showed him what they had decided would be his punishment. Harry had never been one to waste resources, and she had been raised the same way. They both saw the slimy snake as an asset to be used in potions research. As she watched in amusement, the look of horror that came over the face of Harry's long time nemesis was priceless. She'd have to remember to show Harry later. Apparently their plans for the carrot and stick approach didn't totally agree with the (now former) pathetic potions professor.

Parvati lightly brushed the mind again and could see he was absotively posilutely, abhorently amazed to have been manipulated as he had by the inconveniently (for him and others) intelligent couple, not to mention enormously enraged. Interestingly, to her at least, the initial plans Harry had for reprisals on him didn't seem to faze the man, but the decided upon retribution he found reprehensibly repugnant in the extreme. She was fairly sure that the man was also incensed that Harry had not seen him as important enough to deal with directly, delegating the deed to his curvaceous cute cohort.

She laughed at him, saying innocently, "And here I thought you liked house elves, Professor. Dobby and Winky are sure to be kind to you since you will be held there under Harry's orders." One wing of Potter Manor had a full blown potions lab any master of the art would die for. The trouble was, they had, on their last Hogsmeade visit, gone a bit astray of the rules (as they had been doing routinely since after the Christmas hols) and visited the manor to make the lab wing, attached greenhouses, and a small bit of grounds surrounding it only accessible by apparation and portkey; and those were keyed only to Harry, and Parvati, and the house elves, naturally.

To say the least, Dobby and Winky were excessively ecstatic to again have a proper home to care for when Harry had hired them a few months before. As well, and to the horror of Kreacher and Walburga Black, the two enchantingly energetic elves had insisted on redecorating Sirius' home and helping care for it. Harry had finally convinced Sirius of the truth about Kreacher: that he had been abused all his life, and that if he were treated better he would come out of the state he was in. The key to this was getting rid of Walburga's portrait, accomplished rather easily by removing the wall, which opened up the entry quite nicely. The previous weekend, when they had visited Harry's godfather, they found a remarkable improvement in Kreacher, though he was still grumbling about young upstart elves and their decidedly delirious decorating.

Parvati snapped herself out of her musing, returning to the task at hand. "Be seeing you, Mr Snape." At a snap of the fingers of her right hand the dreaded dungeon despot was transported off the field of battle, such as it was – the conflict being a bit one-sided at this point.

Turning back to the action, not that she'd missed much, persistently perky Parvi was unsurprised to see the very large snake now dangling over the top of the gates, writhing and hissing a blue streak. (She knew it had to be a blue streak after what Harry had loosely translated before) Her dashing darling dumpling was speaking to the snake in Parseltongue, but it didn't seem to be listening.

After a few more moments, he turned to her and said, "I give up; tried talking to her, but she doesn't want to hear it. Reminds me of the other snake over there."

She giggled, then replied, "What more can you do…" she shrugged and he shrugged, and they turned their attention elsewhere.

Bouncy Bella was insanely still throwing curse, after hex, after vicious dark spell at the barrier between her and what she apparently, and rightly, saw as the torturers and potentially dangerous-to-her-master joined juniors. (Boot-)Licker Lucy had decided to assist her, apparently thinking that with his help they could overcome the extraordinary emergency enchantments of Hogwarts. What they didn't know was that even if they did get through, the impermeable spell shield erected by happy Harry would not even be dented by any spell known to them.

Vauldicourt was finally regaining his ability to move and stood to ferociously face the unpardonable (to him) upstart whom he thought he was about to obliterate obscenely. He yelled at the (previously) deceptively demure duo, "Potter, I don't know what sort of tricks you and your tart have been using, but it ends now. I will not allow you to make fools of my followers and I."

"Tut, tut," Parvati interrupted, "proper English should always be used by leaders on the field of battle. That should be my followers and me." She smiled at the infuriated impotent individual of stygian proclivities.

Just as Mouldyfart started to speak again, Harry raised his hand, palm outward, at which the thing found itself unable to either move or to speak. Its face turned a nice shade of Vernon (Dursley) violet. "Hold that thought, would you, Tommy? I have a few other things to do before you and I can finish our business today; that alright with you, Tom?" Turning to pretty Parvati, he added to her, "Hmm, cat seems to have got his tongue. Well, maybe it will loosen in a bit." She giggled on cue, and smiled broadly at her handsome heroic Harry (and future husband, if she had anything to say about it, which she did).

While they two toyed with the senior demise masticators and their grotty would-be-emperor, a large number of personnel from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had arrived, mostly Aurors and Hit wizards (though it was devilishly difficult to tell the two apart unless you knew the secret hand sign). All of said personnel were hurrying toward the motionless massed minions who still found themselves inconveniently frozen in place.

Harry and Parvati noticed an occasional flash of light over the area surrounding the unmoving unintelligent fractious faction and would then see an individual collapse. Apparently not all yet had yet sussed that there were enchantments over the area which had allowed them to arrive, but peskily prevented their departure.

The first of the Aurors/Hit wizards reached the edge of the horrid horde and found they couldn't get to the mangy mutts. They began shouting in anger and casting a wide variety of spells which presumably were intended to bring down any sort of barrier. The patient pernicious pair simply chuckled at the futile efforts of the folks down the way.

After watching the people wear themselves down for a few moments, Harry wiggled his left eyebrow and spoke with their magic's analogue of a sonorous charm. "You fine folk from the MLE… if you could be a wee bit patient we'll release those malcontent miscreants to you soon. I want them to see the rewards of being a Dark Lord; might convince a few of them to avoid that path in the future, should they ever be released from Azkaban that is."

Several of the Aurors looked incredulously at the young couple and snorted. "Right," one of them shouted, "you expect us to believe the two of you are controlling all these people?" No offence, kid, but we don't believe in fairytales." She thought the man's name was Scrimgeour.

Harry raised an eyebrow, at the group, who probably couldn't see the gesture from the sixty or so yards away that they were, but he spotted Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tonks among the throng. "Hey, Kings, Tonks, would you care to explain who these idiots are speaking to?" Thanks, we'll get back to you in a few minutes."

Not waiting for a response, he turned back to Jammy Juicy and Barmy Bella. "So, Lucy my good man, how's things at home these days. Has the Dirt Lint over there been treating you well? I do hope so; I know how it can be to have a guest who acts as if they are in charge of your own home, bit annoying, really. I have a pseudo relative who is like that. Comes in and makes life difficult for everyone. Accidentally blew her up like a balloon a few years back."

"So, anyway, Luce," the plucky post-pubescent person went on, "I was wondering if you had noticed the difference your spell casting is having now on Hogwarts' enchantments, as opposed to when you first started throwing things at the barrier. You do realize, don't you, that you haven't even gotten to what my lovely lady and I cast? Hmm, not very observant today, and here I thought you were the saner of the two of you. Too bad, really, that you have been infected by Twisted Trixie there."

Continuing on with his one sided banter, since the individual he was addressing had continued throwing magical energy at the Hogwarts emergency enchantments (which also prevented anyone from entering the grounds without the legal Headmaster's, or now Harry's, consent when in this mode), Harry asked, "Luce, do you like working for a half-blood?" That got the fallacious finks attention. (And he'd had the gall to call Bumbleberk a fool that time in Harry's second year!)

Malevolent Malfoy stopped throwing away his magical energy and gaped at Harry. "What the bloody hell are you on about, you mindless twit?"

"You didn't know?" Harry honestly replied, "It never told you? No, of course It wouldn't, and I bet no one ever looked into the facts of Tom Marvolo Riddle's ancestry. I would have thought better of you pukey Purebloods. Nope, sorry, the snake faced wonder over there, is a half-blood; Muggle father, witch mother. Grew up in a Muggle orphanage; manky damn place from what I'm told. So, you see, you've been energetically espousing an ideological principle the berk doesn't even have in common with you. I know you are smarter than your son, so really, Luce, even you can see your murderous master was using you."

Malfoy looked over at Vankamank with horror in his eyes, then turned back to Harry with a sly smile, saying, "Very good, Potter; had me going there for a moment. I don't believe a word you say. You are only trying to use what little intellect you have in a paltry attempt to turn people against the Dark Lord."

"Well, believe what you will, Loser, but that is what I know. If the old bustard ever shows up for this battle, you can ask him if you like. He's the one whotook Its Hogwarts Letter to It. Anyroad, while we are discussing intelligence, I'd like you to hear what your mangy master has to say on the subject. Parv, my love, would you be so kind as to bring the fool ferret back to coherence so he can be a part of this?"

"Of course, dearest, as you wish. I can hardly wait to hear this." The laughing lovely lass turned partially away from the collectively cringing crowd and twitched the middle finger of her left hand. Daftie Dracko started coming round and groaning until he tried to sit up; he was then screaming out in pain as he apparently found he had some injuries. She bent up the ring finger of her right hand and the worthless wastrel was levitated to a standing position, while a twitch of her right middle finger cast a pain numbing effect on him.

Dippy Drakie glared at Harry and started to say something indubitably inane, but found he had no voice, so just chose to affect a careless glaring sneer. It looked almost comical to Harry and Parvi and made them chuckle a little.

To the Master Minion Manipulator, the horribly horny (he and Parv had not come very close to addressing that particular hunger) hero said, "Now Tom, would you be so kind as to tell us how well you think young master Malfoy would do in your organization?"

"Blast you, Potter, stop calling me that." At Harry's warning glance It decided It'd prefer to keep Its voice for now, and sneered, "You have got to be round the twist. You think I'd use the stupid spawn of an idiotic fop, who runs himself into a magical barrier, and keeps for so-called bodyguards the two dumbest offspring of my two dumbest supporters who don't have the sense of a flobberworm? Go stuff yourself, you little wanker. That worthless sack of hippogriff shit is toast after I get finished with you. I have enough dipshits in my followers as it is. He had one task assigned to him this school year, and that was to report on your doings. He has obviously failed miserably in that."

Lucky looked horrified at the words of his snide snaky superior, but ittle Dracums looked like Christmas had been cancelled for the rest of his life. He was utterly crushed emotionally, which went well with his current physical condition.

Having made his point to Lippy Luscious, Harry ignored the notoriously noxious nothing behind him and told the senior notoriously noxious nothing, "So anyway, Mr Malfoy I guess this is goodbye, since I don't plan on visiting Azkaban anytime soon. Have a nice stay." Before a gloating look on the other's face could really take hold, he added, "Oh, by the way, your gold won't get you out of your just punishment this time. You will spend the rest of your life there, guaranteed; so long, Lucky."

With that Harry twitched the pinkie of his left hand and morosely moping Malfoy, senior, was levitated over to the Aurors waiting just beyond the frozen foul felonious followers. When Muffloy was somewhere close, Harry lost interest and just let him drop; it was only twelve feet, after all.

Faultomarsh then started yelling some inconsequential threat, the likes of which Harry had heard many times, and now routinely tuned out completely. His left eyebrow twitched once and the dense dirt load didn't have a mouth for the time being. The surprise on its face would have been priceless, had Harry or Parvati been paying attention to it.

However, their attention had diverted back to the final unfathomably uncouth underling, one Batty Bellatrix Black Lestrange. She was still single-mindedly attacking the now totally impervious enchantments. She and Loser's attacks on the enchantments had poured so much magic into that sector that they were virtually indestructible and would remain that way for quite some time. Without the approval of a Hogwarts' accepted Headmaster, the deputy headmistress, (or the Duke Mage of Europe aka Harry Potter) Merlin himself wouldn't get past that barrier. She was wearing down though, and the pesky pernicious pair could see the strength of her spells decreasing rapidly. She was nearing total magical exhaustion.

It has been said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results. It goes without saying that at that moment not-so-Bouncy Bella was quite round the twist, several of them in fact. Harry wanted to do something with her while she was still conscious. His right ring finger twitched and she was frozen in place, her wand fell from her hand and clattered on the ground at her feet.

Harry snapped his fingers to get her attention, which only partially worked, so he stepped closer to her and directly into her line of sight. He thought she might be paying attention, so he asked, "Feeling a little drained Trixie? You don't mind if I call you Trixie do you? Sirius told me they called you that as a child, well I guess not your stuffed-up parents, but the younger set did, as I recall. Now that I sort of have your attention I wanted to let you know that I have a little compassion, unlike a few people I could name right now, most of whom are present today on your side of the barriers. At any rate, I just wanted to tell you that I think it would probably be best, after today, if you spent a little time with your victims from the last war. You remember the Longbottoms, don't you?"

Her eyes lit up a little at that, so he thought she might be comprehending him, albeit only partially, so he continued. "I think that you and Lockhart should get on famously, you being such a blithe bombastic bitch, Bella. I think it's a match made in Heaven, personally."

Parvati interjected, "Could be one made in Hell, too." She grinned at her persistent (would-be) paramour. (Her defences of her maidenhood were definitely thinning on this day. Her hormones were as juiced as his, truth be known. It has been said that power is an aphrodisiac, after all).

Harry laughed, and put his arm around her slim waist, kissing her hair.

But then Parvi giggled and asked, "Harry, dear, did you forget the rules? Only the author is allowed three-or-more-word alliterations."

Harry thought for a moment, then realized what he'd called Bella, and smirked. "Yes, m'love, but it was so appropriate and fit right in there that I couldn't resist. And you know what a hard time I have following the rules, just anyway; now don't you?"

She laughed happily and reached up to kiss him on the lips. Afterward, she replied, "Yes dear, and since the author didn't seem to mind, I suppose it's ok. I'd watch it though, or he might start limiting your lines."

"Okay," he answered, "I'll try to tone it down on old Mouldyshorts over there."

"Very good and speaking of which you do recall what I told you," hinted the happy heuristic honey.

"Yes, and I think it is time to get to it, don't you?" replied the halcyon hormonal hero.

"Indubitably, good sir. I'm sure the readers think so by now as well."

"Ah good, then to it we shall get," he rationally responded rhetorically.

Harry twitched another finger and bewildered Bella (etc) was levitated over to the Aurors, one snatched her wand as it too floated by, and quickly had her subdued and in magical handcuffs. As soon as they saw her taken care of, the terrifically toothsome two traipsed back toward Faultaprat to see It seething and turning various shades of red, puce, purple, and even a nice momentary magenta.

He told his love, "I do believe It's a bit upset, wouldn't you say, dear."

"Well, in truth, love, this is the first time I ever met the dic… er, individual, so I can't say for sure, but I have seen a few people look like that, and they were quite irrationally irritated at the time."

"Oh, well done, love, quite appropriately alliterated within the rules. And yes, I agree with that as well. So, I suppose we should allow It to vent before It blows a brain vein." He smirked.

She chuckled and only nodded in reply.

"So, Voldie, old bean," Harry asked jauntily, "going to try to verbally rip my head off if I let you speak, or can we be somewhat civilized here?"

It gradually lost Its reddishness as the pair patiently paused. After a few moments It nodded with a resigned expression.

Harry's left ring finger twitched and he asked, "Ok, Mr Riddler, what was it you wanted to say?"

Taking a deep breath and appearing to count silently, though Its lips moved, It finally demanded, "Potter, I want to know what kind of magic you are using. I have studied magic for most of fifty years and have never seen anyone control magic as you and your tart do."

"Funny thing about that, actually," Harry honestly replied thoughtfully. "You see, we found a magical library which is kept only for members of a highly select circle; namely those who oversee large portions of the Wizarding World. In my case, I have power over, or soon will, much of what you had your heart set on…"

The loud snort from Foldeddork cut him off. The dickless wonder sneered, "You? Control what I will? You don't have the balls to become a Dark Lord, you pesky pipsqueak."

At a twitched finger Harry had another sonorous analogue on his voice; he'd just seen the Headpester arrive with his bird club. "Ah, sorry for the misunderstanding, Tom, but you see I am not going to become a Dark Lord. In point of fact, I am the fully invested Mage Duke of all Europe. The Queen even saw fit to Knight me; but between you, me, and the marvelling multitude behind you I think she did it mostly to embarrass me. So, you see, I don't need to become a Dark Lord at all. I already have what you wanted, and I didn't even have to recruit mentally-disabled minions to get it." (Harry had thought of another pair of words to alliterate there, but as he was now a Duke he dejectedly decided political correctness was called for – occasionally).

Glancing toward the gobsmacked grandfatherly (he thought he was) gargoyle, he noticed another new arrival, one Cornelust Pudge, Mismanister of Magic. Failure Fudge looked like he'd been slapped with a wet fish, so they knew he'd heard. Harry snorted and rolled his eyes at his pretty (one-day-soon) paramour. She grinned back as they both had a fair idea what was going on in the minds of the two appallingly arrogant professional politicians. It would surely be suck-up time when this was all done with. He sighed, quite loudly since the sonorous was still active.

"So anyway, Tom, the magic we are using is nothing more than the authority of my office, which I have been able to share with my lady-love here as my lieutenant, for now." He smiled, she smirked, at each other. He continued, "Anyway, Tommy, old boy, even though I didn't yet know I was one, the Duchy gave me access to an incredible research resource where we found out about the Duke thing and any number of other interesting bits." He saw the light of greed come on in the eyes of the barmy beaten bum (even though It didn't yet know It was defeated). "Don't get your hopes up, sport, no one but I and someone I willingly admit can enter. That sorta leaves you out, if you take my meaning. Even the Imperius wouldn't get you in; of course I shake that silly thing off like water off a duck, as you probably noticed at our last meeting."

Vauntafart looked livid at this news, and the patently patient pair knew he was unused to being denied anything. Parvati had once explained that megalomaniacs were much like very spoiled children in many respects.

"So, Mr Bad-Anagram, we found a great many things there including, for instance, that you had created quite a number of Horcruxes." There were a number of gasps from over in the general direction of the Headmesser and the Mignoramus. "We also found that there are ways to take care of such things rather easily, and it didn't even require that we go traipsing around the country crawling into dank Inferi infested caves, breaking into Gringotts vaults, and the like." Its eyes grew round with surprise. "With the magic I've inherited and learned, I was able to just simply summon them." He smirked broadly at the once more inestimably irate individual who inevitably turned interesting shades of mauve and such.

All this while the container of one such Horcrux had been hissing and spitting (which Harry would have found embarrassing to translate to Parvi) while hanging over the gates just above his Snakiness. Harry wondered if somehow they had used her eggs in one of the rituals to return Scaly Skin to life, since the two bore a marked resemblance to each other now he saw them together like this.

Smilingly smirking at the current cock-sure crap curator, the devilishly dashing Duke nodded to the precocious prepossessing Parvati who took out her wand for the first time since the earlier potions class. Placing it against Harry's scar, she softly chanted a long incantation, and then pulled a large dark writhing mass from Harry's forehead. He fell immediately to his knees, a heavy weakness assaulting him. She looked concerned for her lover, but finished the odd transfer by placing the mass against Nagini's head. After she recited another long incantation the mass was absorbed into the spitting snake.

From his kneeling position, Harry told her, laughingly, "She says, 'What the fuck are you trying to do, kill me? Now I have two of those damn soul pieces of his. You people really suck". Well, that's as best as I can translate it, but you get the idea."

She smiled and told Nagini, "I am awfully sorry, but we cannot transfer them out of you, only the one from Harry because of who and what he is. You are not inherently magical as he is." The snake just glared and spit some further invectives which Harry didn't bother to translate.

Parv stepped back to Harry and went down on one knee beside her lagging love. With her arm around him, she put her head against his while he regained his strength. The book where they had found the small ritual she had just performed told of how it would leave him mildly exhausted for a few minutes.

It wasn't long, as Vaultacart and all the others waited increasingly impatiently, until the plucky pair again stood. Harry could hear the manipulating old bustard, who today wore purple robes with pink poesies circling the hem, calling to let him come and help because only someone with great experience could properly advise them on what needed doing now. Harry flagrantly flipped-off the old coot, wondering where the damned deceitful dick-head had been when Harry had needed him earlier in the year to answer questions. At her love's scowl, Parvi squeezed him with the arm around his waist.

Smiling at her, Harry said, "Time to get on with it, eh, m'dear?"

"Quite, Your Grace, whenever you are ready."

"Would you care to do the honours of revealing Tommy's new home?"

"Why I'd love to." With that, she pointed her left index finger at the black lake and wiggled it a few times. To the apt astonishment of all assembled, there appeared on the far edge of the lake, towards the Quidditch pitch, a rather large cylindrical object.

Harry ostentatiously waved his hand at the cylinder, and asked the lively livid lord-wannabe, "Recognize that Tom? No? He smirked over at the blathering bureaucrats and other assorted assembled do-nothings. "This was Her Majesty the Queen's suggestion a few weeks ago, the day we met and she invested then Knighted me. She proposed it might be a good way to make sure you could never again return. Her Majesty and John, nice chap the Prime Minister, told me I could have one if I could find a way to transport it to where it was needed. Of course, that was no problem for us, we just magically moved it. The thing cost the government a pretty penny, I assure you. But, I have a way to reimburse them after you're gone, so don't worry your scaly little head about that, Tom. Although it will be coming from your coffers and those of your supporters, just thought you'd like to know."

"I hate long goodbyes, don't you, Tommy? What say we just send you off to your new home, shall we? Before I do though, I wanted you to have a few mementos to keep you company. Harry waved his hand and four objects appeared before the Murky Turd. Included in the assortment were a gorgeous diadem, a lovely gold cup, a nice locket necklace, and a handsome ring. It looked even more furious when It saw the items.

"Tom, I want you and everyone to understand, that if it was anyone else they would get a trial, but the whole world knows, and you have freely admitted, that you have committed countless murders and other crimes against humanity. I am therefore using my prerogative as Mage Duke of Europe to officially condemn you to death."

Harry turned his right hand up and there appeared a scroll, with ribbons sticking out. Unrolling it he showed it to the ridiculously riled Riddle. "See, Tom, a proper proclamation signed by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the second, and me, as Mage Duke, as well as Mr John Major, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. It is witnessed by their senior secretaries and has our three seals affixed. All nice and legal, this is, and no one can say I didn't do things properly. Of course in my position they could basically kiss my arse if they did object, but I'm not like you, old chum, don't believe in doing things that make others feel badly… er, mostly. There are a couple of folks who might catch a bit more of my wrath, but that doesn't really concern you, now does it."

"Any last words then, Tom?" Harry wiggled a finger to give Its voice back again.

Its voice was low and mean, and It fairly hissed, "You will rue the day you fucked with me, Boy. I will overcome your Muggle trash and you shall see things quite differently while I'm having you tortured. You may last a few days before I grant you death," he sneered nastily.

Shaking his head sadly, Harry replied, "Rue the day? Is that the best you can come up with, Tom? I mean really; and here all along I thought you had some originality. Ah well; anything further then?"

Tom yelled, "My followers, I command you to overcome this child and return honour to the Death Eaters."

The rigidly restrained remnants of the formerly dastardly Death Eaters eagerly attempted accomplishing their master's bidding. Alas, the entire assemblage, at least the ones still conscious, endeavoured to apparate en masse. Unfortunately, they only managed to join their insensate brethren. Several Aurors, Scrimgeour chief among them, managed to not look highly impressed, the rest were agape. Even Moody looked impressed. Harry smirked…but realizing he'd done that a lot today he asked his love, "Please help me remember it is not a nice thing to smirk, love."

She agreed, saying, "Not very dukely is it?" and smirked at him. He rolled his eyes.

Turning once more to his singularly captive audience Harry asked the wickedly wily wizard, "Anything else you wanted to say, Tom?"

"You and your little bitch shall pay for this one day, Potter, mark my words."

Shaking his head at the terribly tenacious tosser, Harry responded, "You shouldn't use the same phrases as Filch, Tom. He's pretty limited in his vocabulary. I would think someone of your education would be more accomplished. And it isn't considered good form, you know, to antagonize someone who holds your life literally in the palm of their hand. Ah well, Scaldacat, time for you to take a ride."

Harry snapped the fingers of his left hand, and the dastardly devious dark dink, was instantly transported, along with the pissed off snake and other assorted Horcruxes, to a tiny compartment in the huge cylinder. Moments later the enormously egregious ego-maniac could be seen ranting and raving through a portion of the side where Harry had made it transparent.

At a smile and a nod Parvati took care of her share of the spectacle. She raised her right hand, waggled her fingers in the general direction of Tom's new home and another barrier appeared, which was visible as a shimmering blue wall around it at about fifty meters distance. The barrier appeared to extend below the water, which in fact it did to also protect the creatures there. One of her enchantments made sure there were no living creatures in the acre of water that would soon me vaporized.

She nodded at Harry and told him, "All clear, love. You can proceed as you wish." She looked at her watch and added, "The launch window is open as of ten minutes ago."

"Right, then, no need to tarry I suppose." He turned to eye first the stupefied students and staff behind the Hogwarts side barrier, then the (conscious) interested individuals outside the gates. He told them, "You might wish to protect your hearing. I'm told these things are quite loud, so even with a heavy duty silencing charm on the area it could be rather uncomfortable."

Reaching into his robe pocket, he withdrew a small, black, plastic box-like device, and flipped up a red tab that covered a red button. Smiling at the crowd he pushed the button with a finger. At first nothing seemed to happen, but then a wisp of smoke came out from under the supporting platform, which was followed half a second later by a whoosh of flame. In a heartbeat, the ground began to shake, and even with the industrial strength silencing charms in place and hands covering their ears, the feisty friends (now nearly lively lovers) could hear a distant roar as the rocket strained to lift itself and its patently pernicious payload toward the sun shining serenely on the scene.

A couple of seconds later, the large supporting gantry retracted and immediately the huge engines started the vehicle moving upward, though slowly at first. Volkswacart could clearly be seen ranting, raving and apparently trying to shake off Nagini who had seemingly sunk her fangs into his chest. It looked like Tom's death would come a bit quicker than expected. In moments the rapidly accelerating vehicle took Tom out of sight, amazing (most of) the amassed assemblage who'd never seen, or even heard ofa Muggle rocket, much less watched one launch. Within a minute the rocket was thousands of feet in the air and still accelerating.

Entwining her fingers with Harry's, Parvati mentioned, "You didn't exactly tell them that the oxygen would run out rather quickly, not to mention that the space is not insulated or heated, you know."

"I know, dearest, but it didn't seem like something I needed to say. I guess only Nagini will get to experience the cold of space now, such a shame." He smirked again, but she only smiled knowing that this one last time he was justified.

They turned and with a casual wave of the hand not around her waist the gates opened, the emergencey enchantments dropped, and the (former) headmuckster and Mignoblster of Magic bounced off the one remaining. There were, after all, certain creatures who did not need to be fouling heralded Hogwarts halls.

As they walked away Harry asked, "Are you sure it isn't ok to alliterate something like pretty Parvati Patil, please paste your perfect precious lips on mine."

"Yup, look down."

Oh, I see what you mean… bugger…" below him he could see lettering that said:

Here endeth ye aulde story

and beginneth a future

Ye Aulde Insane Authors Note: One of my… associates (whose name is being withheld to protect said individual from possible terrorist death threats for encouraging my increasingly inconsistent insanity) recently commented in an email that I "seem to have developed a perverse penchant for Muggle methods of deranged dastardly destruction". I assume he was speaking of the demise of a certain Dark Lord. I don't really understand that though. This is only the second story I've written in a week like this, and actually those are the only two in which I've killed off the dark wanker (so far) using Muggle tech (again, so far). Hmmmph!!

Thanks to Tommy and Mike for Brit picking, betaing, and betaing, in that order.