The Killer Peanuts
It was Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort. It was the final confrontation. All the Horcruxes were gone; only one would walk away with his life still in tact. Harry was in no way prepared, and this was, to him, inevitable. He thought there was no way in which he could survive. He could see Voldemort in front of him. His red eyes glittered menacingly through the gap in his hooded black cloak. Harry's heart sank; he was going to die, and he knew it.
He fingered the cashew nuts in his pocket. He'd had a huge craving for them that evening, and he couldn't resist taking them from the Hog's Head. He popped one into his mouth; if he was going to die, he might as well enjoy his last nut.
Voldemort hissed, looking like the snake that had just been slaughtered. Harry didn't want to go down without a fight. His fingers lunged into his pocket. He whipped out his wand.
'Advada—' His wand flew from his hand, cutting off his words. Obviously Voldemort wanted to play with him.
'You foolish little boy,' Voldemort sneered. 'How could you think you could defeat I, Lord Voldemort?'
Harry said nothing, not wanting to be humiliated before he died. If Voldemort wanted to laugh at him, he was going to have to try harder. Harry was going to die like his father; dignity still in tact.
'Do you not wish to speak to me, boy?' laughed Voldemort. 'You WILL speak; you will beg me for your life, just like your filthy, dirty mother! Crucio!'
Harry writhed in pain, falling to the floor. He refused to scream; he wouldn't allow Voldemort to strip him of his integrity. His cashew nuts spilled all over the floor beside him, sounding like falling Skittles. He wanted to die memorably; he wanted Voldemort to feel ashamed.
He took a handful of nuts from the floor, and with the unnerving aim of a Quidditch player, threw them straight towards his nemesis' angry face.
Lord Voldemort—who had been laughing hysterically—suddenly turned purple. It was as though Harry's vision had been magnified—he could see the tiny nut nestled between Voldemort's teeth in sharp relief.
'Noooooooooo!' screamed Bellatrix, whom had been laughing at Harry too. She ran towards her master, seizing him round the waist, and applied the Heimlich manoeuvre, apparently thinking her Master was choking.
The nut flew from Voldemort's lips, a white speck among the dark mass of spectators. Yet his normally paper-white face grew darker still, until it was a deep mauve that reminded Harry of Uncle Vernon.
'What have you done to him?' demanded Bellatrix, sobbing into Voldemort's chest. 'What's wrong with him?'
McGonagall walked up to Harry, laughing heartily. 'Didn't you know? We used to tease the "invincible" Tom Riddle about his nut allergies.'
Voldemort made a gargling sound, fell to the floor, and lay there. Finally he was dead.
Harry felt relieved, like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Thousands of people ran up to him, smothering him with hugs and laughing happily.
Peeves floated above them, singing:
'Voldie is a fool,
He thought he was dead cool,
But little did he know,
How he was to go;
Potter had some nuts,
And lobbed them at his butt,
But Potter's aim was true,
And Voldie's face turned blue!
Potter won the fight,
And now we'll sing all night!'
Harry was lifted onto many shoulders, and carried the Gryffindor Common Room. All around him people were singing, dancing, laughing.
It was over, and it was all thanks to his cashew nuts.
