Harry found himself in the most unlikely of places. For almost a decade of his childhood he had lived in a cupboard under the stairs, quite friendly with the constant spiders that lived with him, and dust that trickled down like rain from the heavens every time someone stomped down the stairs. Now, it seemed, that he was once again living his destiny of inhabiting in a cupboard, or, in this instance, hiding within one.
It was his birthday today, and Harry knew, like all previous years it was going to be a disaster. He fervently disliked his birthday and the attention that such a day gathered him, along with his family's... lovely surprises. Except, they weren't surprises anymore, rather, evil plots designed to entrap him. Last year they had done the most precious birthday surprise party... except the banner had stated Happy Birthday Voldemort. Because... well, he hated to admit it, but his son did not have very good sense of humour, and ever since Harry had told the tragic tale of how Voldemort had once been a part of him... his son had decided that Harry was... Voldemort. And tended to not call him Dad or Father or even Harry but Voldemort. Now, each year, he waited for children dressed in death eater costumes and complex Nagini transfigurations. Even his son using his own parstetongue skill to tell him Ooooh my most gracioussss lord you are another year olderrrr...
He was just hoping he could wait it out in the last place anyone would expect him to hide. He leaned his head back against the wall, cringing as he head the sounds of crashing coming from upstairs. There was a reason that Ron was wary around his children...
"Voldemort where are youuuu?" He heard the hissed chant from above him and held his breath. Maybe this year he'd be able to sneak off with Luna and her sane celebrations.