Harry, prowling the empty field felt safe for once in his life. As he began to let his guard down, he started humming, and soon singing softly.
Spring time for Hitler and Germany!
Winter for Poland and Spain!
Suddenly he felt someone else's presens, although it was not enough for him to be alarmed at. Until he heard an answering;
Springtime for Hitler and Germany
Rhineland's a fine land once more!
"meep!" what!? Who was there?? He had usually felt his godfather's presence when he was alone, so he hadn't worried about that, just sometimes wondered if he was going mad… but singing? And a song about world domination? Sirius would never sing "Springtime for Hitler," would he?
"John, is that you, my love? You're early," a voice that slightly resembled a snake hissing said. In fact, it sounded like the former Tom Riddle. The now Volemort… A shadow slid into view.
"John…?"
"WHO THE HELL IS JOHN!!!" Harry screeched, even before he knew he had opened his mouth.
His arch enemy responded with an emotion that was not him; bored sorrow. "Oh, it's you Harry. Why are you here? I would have thought it would be your bedtime. Why don't you go…" he was cut off there, quite rudely he had to admit.
"Why am I here? Me?" Harry squeaked, and then cleared his throught, going on. "You've had this place so heavily guarded that hit just screamed 'horxex, horecex, kill me now!' Why wouldn't I have come?"
Voldimort just stared blankly at Harry in what looked like astonishment and finally whispered, "He really has mind washed you that much, hasn't he? To think of me as totally evil, no good, no want of good, no want of life. And I thought I was gullible. Did you know Harry, that the word 'gullible' is not in the dictionary?" the last he said in a slightly louder tone, as if it was an interesting fact he wanted to share with a friendly adversary.
Harry's eyes got as big as plates and he gasped in shock. "No! Why would they leave out a word that describes almost half of the population!?" At this the 'dark lord' started twitching and his face got red. Harry, misreading the signs, almost cowered in fear. The man was about to kill him! Just as he was about to run in fear, Voldimort collapsed laughing his head off.
All of a sudden Harry noticed something…
He suddenly did the stupidest thing that he had ever done in his life; he walked over and grabbed Voldemort by the hair. Then again, since when does Voldimort have hair? But it wasn't Voldemort. It wasn't "the Dark Lord" not he-who-must-not-be-named, not you-know-who. This man didn't have the ugly face that screamed 'I am evil,' he had a handsome-ish face, soft face surrounded with wavy brown hair…
"Who are you?" Harry hissed, almost sounding like the real "Lord Voldemort."
The man, who had almost controlled his laughter, burst out laughing again. "He thinks I'm not Voldimort! HA! Then again, he also thinks the sun rises and sets on Dumbledore. When will you learn, little Harry Potter? When will you learn?" at the mention of the headmaster, Voldemort had immediately sobered. "Huh. The two things that can calm me down: Dumbledore and the though of Remus Lupen and Fudge in their underwear." Both men shivered at the second image and where it led…
Harry collapsed on the ground and grabbed his head screaming, "Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, bloody hell! Bad thought!! Get out! God! Merlin help me, and if he someone please remove my brains and turn them into fertilizer for my aunt's garden!" Harry groaned and tried not to throw up in the grass; he didn't really want to say hello to supper again. He gasped as an arm snaked around his shoulders and patted his back.
"Don't worry, the image will fade in due time… hopefully. You had a much more violent reaction then I did… I can remember the time I thought that up. You see, I suck at speechmaking, and I had to have one of my friends help me. Believe me, when you're up on stage and frightened, do not 'imagine them all in there underwear.' The theorie of 'imagine a humongous dancing chicken in the back of the room' does, however help me."
As Harry snickered with a man who thought himself to be Voldimort at the hilarity of the situation hit them. As the amusement faded, they both, now on the ground, sat back and relaxed.
"So, how did you get to thinking that you were Voldimort?" Harry asked curiously, pretty sure that the man, if convinced he was the dark lord would have tried at least once to kill him.
"Weeell… you know, the usual, being born as 'Tom Riddle' going to school about 100 years ago, being ostracized from the wizerding community, the searing hate that Dumbledoor has bestowed on me so kindly, and, of course, the fact that everyone calls me 'the dark lord,' 'lord Voldimort,' stuff like that." The man countered sarcastically. "I am really the 'dark lord' so you call me. Although if you want dark, you'll have to ask for Albus. Everything I supposedly did to you was actually him. The only time you really saw me was when you saw Albus also. Although I am not sure how the heck he did that nasty trick with Qurrel. But I'm sorry to say it was me when I attacked you and your family. I was under something more than an imperious curse, kind of a 'you will only live for me' kind of thing at the time, so it might not count, but I still feel responsible." Through all of his talk, the man sitting next to Harry had been blank eyed and his voice had contained a definite dead quality. Voldimort paused and drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "Though all that the man has done, I can still understand his logic. Two hundred years ago, when this all started, the wisarding world needed to be united. And the fastest and easiest way to unite a world torn apart is to set them agenst a common enemy, the musical 'Wicked' taught me that. Dumbledor picked me to be the enemy, made it so I would last as long as he would, and sat back to watch. Bastard." Harry was struck by the complete loathing in the man's voice. His brain was also having a hard time processing the information that the man had just told him.
"So when he dies, you die?" Harry asked quietly.
The other snorted. "Taught you well, hasn't he. I've just told you its all his fault and your still trying to kill me. But yes, when he dies, I die. Also, tidbit of info for you, the spell has been entangled so long that it has made itself into a right mess so now if I die, he does too. Tonight, my boyfriend was coming to meet me so I could say goodbye to him; I'm suiciding and taking Dumbledor with me. I would have done it earlier, but I just found out I could." There was an uncomfortable silence, only filled with the sound of wind in trees and random animal noises.
"What where you to him that he'd do that to you?" Harry said with disbelief. "Were you a rival, an arch enemy…"
The man laughed softly, the kind of laugh that's not really a laugh, more of a smile and a whimper, and said "I was his best friend, actually."
Harry sat, stupefied by that comment, unable to believe it. One that would have to mean that Dumbledor had once actually liked 'the bane of all evil,' the one who must not be named, and two, that he would willingly stab someone that was a friend to him in the heart and twist the knife and keep twisting for 100 years. No one could be that cruel. Especially not Dumbledor.
"Dumbledor isn't that sadistic. He couldn't do that to someone he liked." There was doubt in Harry's voice as he made that statement.
"Who said he liked me? I was the despised pretty-boy slavering-queer. If you had said that I like him, then you would have been correct, even after all he has done to me and, well, everyone, he's still my best friend. But he hated me. He still hates me. I'm still the despised one, but I've lost the 'pretty-boy' and the 'slavering-queer' parts. Now I've gained the mass murdering-sociopath-muggle hateing-crazy title along with a few others. To him, I'm still the slavering queer." Voldimort sighed painfully.
Somehow that all explains why I'm uneasy around Dumbledor and I feel safer around this guy. Harry blinked. Where the hell did that come from? Am I… (gasp) falling for (gasp) VOLDIMORT??? Nah.
"well, anyways, time for you to go. Unless you want to meat John? He realy is a nice guy…" Voldimort trailed of into relative silence.
"No," Harry decided. "I'm going to see if your theory works on the other end."
"I wouldn't if I were you. At this time he'll be having his bath, massage, and pedicure. If there's one thing worse than Remus and Fudge in underwear, it's Snape giving a half naked Albus Dumbledor a backrub."
Harry sat, in a coma like state, trying in vain to erase the horrid, yucky, disgusting, impure, nasty, revolting, ghastly, horrible, nauseating, repulsive and just plain gross image from his mind for the rest of his life.
"Well John, I guess that just proves the prophecy true, doesn't it?" Lord Voldimort said with pity
"You owe me ten dollars. I told you it would work."
"Damn. I only have five… IOU?"
"Give me that money!"
"You can buy angle-food cake with only five dollors! Akk! Stop biting me!"
"You can NOT buy good angel-food cake with five dollors! And I want kibassi too!"