Harry Potter Hates Clowns
Note: Please don't get offended by the vegetarian jokes. I have nothing against vegetarians, but I do not like extremists such as PETA. I inserted it because I thought it would be OOC funny for Voldie.
Voldemort was researching Harry's weaknesses just as much as Harry was researching Voldemort's. He stood in his lab, thumbing through photoalbums taken from the Potters' old estate, searching for something Harry was afraid of, but he found nothing.
So far he had found images of baby Harry on Santa's knee, looking at the white-bearded pedophile with no fear. There was another of him at a Disney themepark with Donald Duck when he was a bit older. There was something just off about that's duck's eyes Voldemort couldn't put a white, bony finger to...
Little Harry was seen standing next to other themepark critters, including men dressed in poorly-designed beaver costumes, the Chicago Bulls mascot, and a very poorly-designed werewolf mascot from Russia, but in none of them did Harry express any fear. Suddenly Voldemort's pale, bony zombie hand popped off. One of his servants picked it up for him.
"Is this boy afraid of nothing?" Voldemort asked, re-adjusting his hand. "That's not even possible! Even I'm afraid of...of...giant pink bunnies!" He was in reference to an incident that had happened on Hogwarts a long time ago, and was commemorated in a painting on his wall. One of his friends had summoned a huge, pink, bloodthirsty bunny rabbit that went after all of them.
"Gee, thanks boss for revealing your weakness!" said his hunchbacked, pale servant.
"Plot against me and you'll go there," Voldemort said, pointing to a line of green bottles on the wall that contained still-living, pickled remains of people that periodically blinked.
"I guess that's a bad thing."
"Yes. Igor!"
"Yes, Master?" asked Igor, who was also researching photoalbums in a corner.
"Have you found Harry's fear yet?"
"Yes, I have, in fact."
"What is it, vile worm?"
"Clowns."
"What did you say?"
"Clowns. Harry's afraid of clowns."
"Show me, worm."
"You don't have to shout, or insult me like you always do."
"But if I don't shout, or hurl unneeded insults, how am I a villain?"
"You could be villain in other ways. Like, you could use your powers for good, when in fact you're using them for bad, and then you could get followers, and raise taxes, and brainwash people, and bring them all against Potter!"
"Your logic confounds me about eating meat!" Voldemort's PETA brainwashing had kicked in.
"What's this got to do with meat?"
"Eating meat is bad because eating meat is bad! All animals suffer, even when you're performing a harmless maneuver like milking a cow!"
"Are you okay, boss?" asked Igor.
"Yes I'm okay! Milk causes mucus and gas! Meat causes cancer! Meat is the root of all things bad because it is meat!"
"But, your osteoporosis, I thought that's why you drank milk every morning." His servant pointed to a very tall glass of cold milk.
"Steak is cruel to cows."
"I thought you liked raw, bloody steak because it, uh, made you look more villainous."
"I eat no animal carcasses! No raw, flayed flesh of a creature once-living shall pass these lips! Eggs are disgusting! I love life!"
"Boss, you are so out of character it's hilarious. By the way, out of character on the Web is OOC."
Voldemort shook his head, an action that in cartoons, causes a character to clear his or her head. "Back on topic before I totally derail my original train of thought, Harry's afraid of clowns?" He and his servant walked over to Igor's desk. Igor held up the picture.
It was an old one, dated sometime in the 90's. In the first one Harry was looking at a clown. In the second one the clown tried being funny. In the third one, Harry was clearly screaming with terror.
"Perfect, perfect, my pet. Death Eaters?" Voldemort asked.
"Yes, Master?" asked Malfoy's father, Lucius along with the other Death Eaters, who were painfully obvious stand-ins for Nazis by the last book.
"Summon a clown." Voldemort's voice was very serious.
"Clown?"
"Clown."
"Yes, Master."
"I want you to make the scariest, most terrifying clown the world has seen! Make him the thing of nightmares!"
"Master, saying 'him' is sexist," said a female Death Eater.
"I'm not being politically correct! Make the clown, male, so scary you wouldn't let your children near him! Make him so scary that he'll keep Harry Potter up day and night worried clowns will eat him!"
"But don't you want to kill Potter?"
"I want to scare him to make him more vulnerable?"
"Why can't we make a clown ninja, get him into the Dursleys' residence, and simply kill Potter like a serial killer?"
Voldemort wasn't impressed by the logical, more efficient method. "But this is for kids!"
"Who said this is for kids? That's why there's an adult section in every bookstore!"
"Adult? Like as in porn?"
"I meant as in, books for grown-ups, not that adult."
"That's no fun. For my sake because I am God, make that balderdashed clown! Tonight! And release it into Potter's bedroom or you get no marinated fake tofu steak!" Voldie's PETA membership had certainly brainwashed off him. Soon he was going to be just like Hitler, vegan but hypocritical about it.
"That's actually pretty good," said another man.
"And you get rabbit stew." Voldemort was very dramatic. The Death Eater gasped. "With no rabbit present! Ahahahaha!"
"No, Voldemort! You can't do that!"
"Make the clown and I'll throw in some leftover tofu for you. Go, Death Eaters! Do my bidding! Bwahahahaha!" The Death Eaters filed out of the castle tower to the experimental room. "Haah, I'm such a villain, aren't I?"
"Yes, Lord Moldy Voldy," said his hunchbacked servant. "Now can you change my spine back to normal?" He had had some...magical plastic surgery when he chose to become Lord Voldemort's servant.
"No."
"Why not? You're mean."
"Villains are supposed to be mean, worm."
"Uh, while you're at it, can you come up with a new insult? Worm's getting pretty repetitive."
"Rodent."
"Rodent...I like the sound of that one! Master Splinter's a rodent...so is Shifu..."
"Get back to your work, small rodent!"
"Yessir." The servant returned to the kitchen to bring his master more snacks. Voldemort pulled a gazing ball over from his workbench and gazed into it.
"Potter, within a night I will have you in the palm of my hand," he said, rubbing his knobby fingers over the smooth glass. In the crystal ball, he saw Potter, fast asleep...the clown was going to be ready...
Meanwhile, back at the Dursleys, Harry was asleep in his dark, dark room.
"Potter..." beckoned a sing-song male voice, "Potter...Potter..."
In his dreams he saw a benign-looking man in a business suit standing against a flowering yellow tree in a golden flowerfield. He had dark hair like his and glasses.
"Dad?" said Potter's dream-self, failing to ask why his father had referred to him by his last name instead of his first, which is a frequent error by beginners in fanfiction. One notorious case of that is PeterChimera, but that's another topic. BTW his stories are hilarious.
"Potter, I'm right here," said his father.
"Dad?"
"Potter!" Harry ran to his father but instead he fell through the tree and into a black void, which caused him to awaken in the real world. He bolted up in bed and grabbed his glasses and his wand.
"Potter..." said the same voice. He turned around and screamed.
There was a giant clown. The clown had a white face like Joker's pulled into an insane smile. His eyes were two black plus signs on his face. He wore a giant Elizabethan ruffle around his neck. He had on a purple-and-yellow Harlequin shirt and a pair of clashing green-and-orange checkered pants.
The clown was a walking fashion disaster.
Potter screamed. "AAAAUUUUUGGGHHH!" Jumping out of bed, which revealed he was wearing pajamas patterned with Hello Kitty, he put himself into a battle stance to fight the spectre. "Levontum Petronus! (so it's incorrect, but who cares this is for humor)" A white stag appeared from his wand, ran towards the clown, and screeched to a stop. Then it started laughing. "No, you're not supposed to laugh! Protect me from this dumb clown!" The stag shook his head. "Fine, you're fired." The stag made a sad face. "No, please don't make that face! Stag, come back to the wandy-wand! I have a sugar cube!" His patronus-whatever ran back and disappeared into the wand.
Harry resumed fighting the clown, minus his protector. Smiling evilly, the clown messed up Harry's room. "Nooooo!" And it laughed. Angered, Harry launched golden fireworks spell after golden fireworks spell, but the clown changed shape, dodging the shots. Then his wand sputtered, a sign his ammo needed refilled. Suddenly the clown paused. "Wands don't have ammo!" Harry angrily pointed at the ceiling, breaking the 4th Wall.
"But in my world they do," I said.
"But this isn't your world!"
"It's a stupid fanfiction! I can do what I want!"
"Then would you get this evil clown out of my room?!"
"No. Then we couldn't have a story."
"You stupid narrators! I curse you to a lifetime of...of...bad television!"
"That's all?"
"It's early! You can't expect me to use my brain at this time of night, can you?"
"I'll take your word for it. Resuming the story..."
The clown unpaused and proceeded to do more evil doings. Cackling evilly, he disorganized Harry's assignments. Next he spread dust everywhere.
"Noo! That'll take forever to clean!" Finally the clown released Harry's familiar Hedwig back into the wild so she could be free. "Nooo! Hedwig!"
"Pets are not ours to own," lectured the clown.
"I'm gonna get you for this!" Harry threw more exploding spells at the clown. Most of which missed and blasted holes in the house instead. The clown floated down the stairs, rudely waking the Dursleys and messing up furniture as he went along like a poltergeist. "HARRY POTTER HATES CLOWNS!!"
Harry destroyed more stuff as he feebly attempted to hit the clown. The clown slapped together a pair of cymbals, which shook Harry's head like Bugs Bunny's.
"I'm so getting you, ya bastard!" Next the clown juggled flaming balls that he threw at the boy. Harry jumped over each of them, but they set the house on fire, making for a very dramatic scene. "Clowns make Harry mad! Harry angry now!" Harry Potter was silhouetted by flames. He was hungry for revenge.
The clown pulled more tricks. He made Harry slip on a banana and land on a chair that had a whoopie cushion. The cusion made a disgusting farting sound and was very smelly. Harry obviously didn't like that. Then the clown started slapping Harry with a large, cartoony blue fish. When he was done with that nonsense he pulled out a cardboard picture of Voldemort and put it over his face.
"AAAHHHH! LORD VOLDEMORT!" The clown discarded the cardboard and cackled some more. Harry suddenly dropped his wand. "Harry angry now." His muscles bulged. His skin turned blue. He grew much larger. Parts of his pajamas expanded and broke while others remained on his skin in strategic places. His glasses somehow expanded to accommodate the new size of his face. The transformation complete, Harry roared. "ROOAAARR! HARRY SMASH!"
He chased the clown outside, smashing trees like the Mighty Hulk as he went along. Several times he flattened the clown but the spectre floated right back up.
The final battle came when the clown stood in the middle of the empty street, holding a flaming hoop in hand. Harry ran to his nemesis, increasing his speed into a gallop, and leapt at the clown.
But the clown had one last trick up his sleeve; he opened his mouth very wide, a black void, and Harry jumped in, where he spiralled round and round forever...
Harry jerked awake. Putting on his glasses, he examined his room. It wasn't a mess. Hedwig was still there. The Dursleys weren't cussing. There was no sign of the evil clown anywhere. Looking at the time, he saw it was only 6:40; he shut his eyes and slept in. However, sitting on his nightstand was a small rock painted in the evil, ugly visage of the clown, cursing him to a life of bad clown dreams. Harry never saw another circus.
"Harry's been subdued," said Voldemort's hunchbacked servant, who had brought with him a silver platter of eyeballs. He brought the platter to his master, who was sitting hunched at his desk. "Eyeballs, sir?"
Voldemort picked one up like a corncurl and popped it in his mouth.
"I thought you were vegan, sir."
"Shut up. Today I joined a motorcycle group. They eat meat products because eating animal flesh from a dead carcass makes you a man."
"I'll take your word for it, sir." He couldn't help it if his master was just a tad unstable. That's right, just a tad. A little insane.
"The clown drew Potter into a dream-within-a-dream and cursed him with a clown stone," Voldemort said, rubbing his hands together like a movie villain while smiling villainously. His servant glanced at the gazing ball. Harry threw his stone into a neighbor's house, shattering a window.
"Oh, cool, a clown stone!" said a kid, picking it up. The clown appeared to the boy in the neighbor's home. He screamed loudly. Harry simply blew a pink bubble of Hubba Bubba bubblegum that popped all over his glasses.
"Oh, crap," said Voldemort's servant. "He gave the curse to someone else."
"Oh, snap. I'll need a new plan against Potter, rodent."
"We so failed."
"We didn't fail, we epically failed!"
"All your fails are belong to us!"
Voldemort returned to the drawing board, which was covered in all kinds of crazy plans already and stick-figure diagrams to get Potter. "Someday I'll find something to defeat the Potter boy. Someday..."
You'll have to read Book 7 to find out.
The End! :D :D :D :D :D