Year 6 Begins!

Chapter 35: The Fog of War

New chapter by Steve2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything related to it.

{-35-}

"Hello, Harry Potter," Luna said immediately as Harry opened the door.

"Hi Luna," Harry replied, opening the Dursley door all the way to allow her to enter with the big box in her arms.

"Hello, Stubby," Luna nodded to the biker-type man lounging on the couch.

"Hey," he said simply, going back to watching the Martha Stewart marathon while drinking a Guinness.

"Don't take this the wrong way or anything, Luna, but why are you here? No one ever visits me over the summer at this house," Harry clarified.

"I came to bring you your birthday gift," she smiled, shoving the box into his hands.

"A birthday gift? For me?" Harry took in the sight of the brightly wrapped birthday present and his grin grew. He put it down on the coffee table. Sirius, oblivious to everything Martha, moved over on the couch to allow Harry to sit while Luna sat in the adjoining chair.

Luna was beaming at Harry's reaction. "Happy Birthday, Harry."

"Thanks, Luna. Um… just so you know, my birthday was last week."

"Then this comes as even a bigger surprise, doesn't it?" her musical voice laughed.

Harry tore away some of the paper around the box top, opened it, and pulled out a device. "It's… it's a… Luna, what is it?" Harry asked.

"Oh, it's something that all important people should have. It announces your entrance like nothing else. It just screams 'you', you know?"

"Huh?"

"It's a fog machine, Harry," Luna patted his knee while Sirius' eyes kept a constant visage as to where that hand might go. He could always hope for his godson.

Harry and Luna spent a fun hour setting up the fog machine and learning how it worked. Sirius helped out by putting in his own "style" on the machine so that it worked all the time at full blast without the need for electricity.

"See, Harry?" Luna started. "You can use this to announce your coming into a classroom."

"That is a great idea. Only…"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I was thinking this really isn't our cup of tea, you know? I mean, when you think about it, I really don't go to that many classes."

"Hmmm, yes, that is true," she conceded. "You could always use it to announce yourself when coming downstairs here to dinner."

"True. If I ate with the Dursleys. Which hasn't happened as long as I've lived here. Wait! I have it! I know who could use this!"

"Who?" Luna was enjoying the conversation. It was vastly different from the ones she usually had at school with the members of her "house".

"How about the head insane person… Fudgie?"

"Oh, he's out at the ministry," Luna supplied. "There's a new person in charge: Rufus Scrimgeour."

"Then let's send it to him," Harry offered with a grin.

"I'm not sure politicians use fog machines, Harry."

"I know, but you know Rufus. This has his name written all over it."

"You just wrote them there. I saw you," Luna pointed out as Harry put down the marker. On the side of the box was now written: 'The Property of the Head Government Stooge.'

"Just goes to prove you're the smartest witch I know."

"And don't you forget it, buster," Luna smiled at this fun person to be around.

Sirius continued to watch her hands, and hope something would happen that would make James proud. Or at least a grandparent if he were still alive.

{-35-}

"Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahah! Those imbeciles! They will rue the day they crossed me," Voldemort cackled like the madman he was in his subterranean lair (also known as the Malfoy basement with lots of faux wood paneling).

"Yes, master," Wormtail replied automatically to his latest rant. It was easier to humour him instead of listening to him drone on and on (punctuated with an odd crucio here and there) about the need to listen to the greatest dark lord of all time.

"I realize what's been behind these setbacks, Wormtongue…"

"Wormtail, master."

"Crucio!"

"Aaack!"

"No, my attacks against Harry Potter have been thwarted too often of late. If I don't put a stop to these defeats, my name will not be synonymous with terror and chaos."

"You mean they were?"

"Crucio!"

"Aaack!"

"I need a rallying cry, Wormtongue! Something that will expand our recruiting efforts to bring in new dark troops."

Wormtail wisely kept his mouth shut about not letting prospective dark applicants see the new costume they had to wear until after they'd taken the dark mark.

"I have decided on another target. A target that hits close to these sheep in wizard robes. They will again fear my name like nothing else. It is time to do something about Minister Scrimgeour!"

"Do you want me to place an order for 100 pizzas and have it delivered to him so he has to pay a sudden bill?" Wormtail asked slowly, not sure if he was going to get crucio'd again or not.

Voldemort thought about it for a moment. "An intriguing idea, Wormtongue, but not one to use at this time. Perhaps later against Harry Potter when he is at Hogwarts and has no way to pay for them. No, this time we are going to set loose the dementors on Minister Scrimgeour. Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!"

{-35-}

"Nervous, Minister?" Delores Umbridge asked, straightening her Minister's robes a bit.

"Not really. It's just a speech. Working undercover under Bones' scrutiny was more taxing. It sure was nice Mr. Potter gave us that fog machine."

"Gave you the fog machine, Minister. You're the Minister, so it is your machine."

"Nope. He gave it to the Ministry. That means it belongs to you as well," he said offhand.

"So where is it?"

"I have Weatherbee setting it up onstage now. It needs a few minutes to get going to make all that fog."

"He must have started it. It's getting a little cold in here."

"Well, I can't have my campaign manager getting cold now, can I? You should grab a coat then," Rufus suggested.

"How about the two of us share a little body… heat," Delores arched an eye up at her Minister.

"Uh…" Rufus wasn't sure he had heard that right.

"And that's not all we can share," Delores continued with that flirt, inching closer, puckering up.

"Uh…" Rufus wasn't sure he wanted to hear anymore.

"I can think of a few other things," she said while pulling her Minister into an embrace while making kissing noises. "Mmmmmm," she moaned. "Oh, Rufus, you certainly know how to turn a girl on."

"Uh… Delores," he began.

"Just you wait until I get you back home and then we can…"

"Minister! Minister!" an out-of-breath Percy ran into the room he and Delores were in.

"Yes, Weatherbee?"

Percy reached up and tapped his wand on a thingy on his robe that he'd put there earlier. "Sorry about that, Minister."

"Sorry about what?"

"Um… well you know how we've been experimenting with some muggle political inventions?" At Rufus' nod, he continued. "Well, Penelope and I, well, we sort of spelled that microphone thingy on your robe to activate earlier to test it outside with the sonorous spell and, well, the reporters heard your conversation with Madame Umbridge just now."

"How much of it?"

"All of it."

Moments later, a flushed Minister Rufus entered the speech room. The fog machine was going full blast. He tapped his microphone (what will those muggles come up with next – this thing was just spiffy despite his current debacle) and walked through the mist to the podium. "Hi, everyone. I'm glad you could make it," he started.

"Better than making out!" someone yelled from the back.

Hahahahahahahahahah!

Considering there were only six reporters present, Rufus had a pretty good idea of who it was. Or would have had a good idea if he could see them. Man, that fog machine really worked in closed-in spaces.

"Uh… right. Anyway, I just wanted to give you an idea of what's going on with the ministry these days."

"Like married ministers making out with madams?"

Hahahahahahahahahah!

Rufus face-palmed, knowing what the next day's headline was going to be.

{-35-}

Voldemort sat in his throne at the breakfast table. He wore a fuzzy black robe cinched around his waist with some matching black fuzzy slippers, both of which Malfoy Sr. had procured for him prior to his incarceration. He sipped his cup of coffee and read the paper. The headline was not full of doom and gloom like he had expected. Instead, it read:

MINISTER SCRIGGY AND HIS FIRST LADY GET DOWN AND FUNKY WITH EACH OTHER!

What had happened to his plan? Where had his dementors gone? True, he'd had to recruit them from the continent, but why weren't they back yet? Where was that idiot Wormtongue when he needed his bagel toasted?

Moments later Voldemort felt the familiar chill run down his spine and saw one of the dementors drift into his sanctuary. I wonder where all the others are? he thought.

Putting the paper down, Voldemort cast the ministry-restricted, super-duper secret spell that allowed him to converse with the dementor (and allowed the Ministry to keep them working at their prison prior to them telling the Wizard Warden to take his job and shove it). "What happened to the plan?" Voldemort hissed. "Were you foiled? Too many patronus and you were forced to retreat?"

"No," it hissed back. "The aurors and ministry staff didn't even know we were there. We infiltrated like you said we could. We were poised for attack in his speech room. Again, as you planned."

"Then what happened?" Had Voldemort been a better student of body language, he would have been able to tell that the dementor was a little livid.

The dementor pointed a finger at Voldemort and said, "You didn't tell us he had a fog machine! Do you know how much those hurt?! Do you know how it feels to have your being atomized in one of those blasted machines and then shot out the other end with the rest of the rubbish? Do you?! It took me all day to put myself back together again and I'm not even sure if I have my right arm or someone else's! Now due to your shoddy lack of information, I've got to go back home and take inventory with the rest of the gang. That is, once they reconstitute themselves! Do you know how much I hate going back home?!"

"What's a fog machine?" Voldemort wondered aloud.

The dementor looked up the sky (or more appropriately, to the ceiling which was the floor of the main level above). "Wizards!" he choked in annoyance.

The dementor ghosted closer and reached out with his hand to grab Voldemort's robes, pulling him out of his chair (er, throne). "Now here's a little reason why I think you ought to tell me the next time if you are sending me into a situation that has a fog machine! It's a little something I picked up when I watched one of you humans called Uncle Bubba elucidate his exasperation of a situation to someone else."

It was strange, but Voldemort could have sworn he heard the dementor crack his knuckles.

Wormtail heard screaming coming down the hall while he was taking a bath, but didn't think much of it.

{-35-}

This was originally an omake I did for a Rorscharch Blot story that was even used. I thought it went well here so used it. I did change it up a bit to make it a little easier to read and not make this an "M" story. This is the last of the omakes I have previously written that I wanted to use. Special mention to the first reviewer who knows the story it came from.

Read and Review, please! Smiles!

Steve2