VOLDY-POO!
By Belladonna Dwale
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters (except for Blanche, a product of my sick mind) are owned by J.K. Rowling (and I guess Warner Bros. now because of the movie). They don't belong to me so please don't sue me. Well, you can, but you won't get much. Maybe my sisters... Yeah, you can have them.
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Harry came to and looked around. He saw that he was in a dark room standing right over him was none other than Voldemort. The scar on Harry's forehead was hurting like hell and he began to struggle, only to realize that he was tied down.
Voldemort smiled, although it looked more like a grimace of pain. "Struggle all you like, Potter. The more you struggle the tighter your ropes will become."
Harry stopped, the ropes were cutting into his skin and he glared up at Voldemort. "Why do you hate me?" he asked, rather randomly. "I mean, why do you want me dead?"
Voldemort frowned. "It's very complex. The most obvious reason is that you survived when I tried to kill you, on several different occasions. Therefore, you have tarnished my reputation. Another is that you are the descendent of Godric Gryffindor and are his heir, the same way I am the Heir of Slytherin." Voldemort paused and continued, "And finally, I liked your mother..."
Harry's eyes widened at the last reason. "YOU WHAT?" he asked, practically yelling.
Voldemort sighed and nodded, "It's true. I liked a Mudblood." (Harry's eyes narrowed here.) Voldemort went on, "I loved a Mudblood. I would have done anything for her! I wanted her! I needed her! Oh baby! Oh baby! But, sadly, she was in love with that BLASTED POTTER! YOUR FATHER! Therefore, I had to settle for someone else. I suppose it was for the better, it would look rather bad to be running around killing Muggles and Mudbloods when your wife is one in the first place. Well, I told her the night she died, it was foolish for her to protect you. I would have let her sit at my side, well, as my wife but she refused, so I -"
"OF COURSE SHE'D REFUSE YOU!" Harry roared. "YOU LOOK LIKE A SNAKE! YOU'RE SO UGLY THAT IF THERE WERE A MIRROR WITHIN A FIVE KILOMETER RADIUS IT WOULD SHATTER!"
"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO ME IN THAT TONE!" Voldemort retorted. "As I was saying, your mother refused so I had to kill her to get to you. THEN YOU WERE MY DOWNFALL! BUT NOT TONIGHT MY BOY! TONIGHT YOU'RE GOING TO DIE!" With that said, Voldemort pulled out a large dagger and smiled evilly (which still looked like a grimace of pain). He was about to stab Harry in the heart when all of a sudden...
"VOLDY-POO! DAHLIN'! WHAT ARE YAH DOIN'?!" said an American woman (who had a Southern drawl) who had just stepped into the room. Harry could tell that she was about Sirius' age. She had blond hair, freckles and violet eyes. She had a very commanding air around her.
Voldemort looked rather mortified. "Uh, o-one moment please. I'm rather busy. Y-y-you know, Evil Overlord business and all," he stammered out.
"Whadda yah mean, 'Evil Overlahd business?'" she asked. "Sugah, killin' a lil boy ain't exactly what Ah'd call 'Evil Ovahlord business.' Yah know Ah've always wanted a son but yah just have ta have yah 'Evil Ovahlahd business,'"
"Blanche dear, there's no need to bring that up," he replied looking rather strained.
Harry would have laughed at the whole situation if Voldemort still weren't about to kill him, so he snorted a bit instead.
Blanche looked down at Harry and smiled. "Don't yah worry 'bout nothin', dahlin'," she said.
Harry thought Blanche looked like she'd gotten hit over the head by a bludger. He forced a smile, though.
Blanche sat down next to Harry and stroked his hair. Harry fought back an urge to scream and forced a smile.
"Ah think we should adopt 'im an' raise 'im as our son," Blanche said. She continued playing with Harry's hair.
Voldemort looked horrified by the suggestion. "But, Blanche, he's my arch-nemesis! We can't adopt him! It'll make me look bad!"
Harry could see that Blanche could care less. The Southern belle grabbed the dagger from Voldemort and cut Harry's ropes. Harry struggled to sit up but Blanch forced him back down.
"LIE DOWN, DAHLIN'," Blanche said. She began rubbing Harry's right arm – which had a bunch of rope burns on it. Harry cringed. He could tell that Blanch had been cooking with a bunch of spices because the wounds she touched began to burn.
Harry looked up at Blanche and said rather nervously, "I – uh – have to go... there's this thing I – uh – forgot to do so now I have to do it."
Blanche looked horrified. "Oh no, dahlin', you ain't goin' nowhere. You just lie back down an' rest yaw pretty head. Mamma Blanche is gonna make yah bettah in no taym. Lemme go get tha Neosporin an' som bandaids." With that said Blanche glided out of the room.
Harry sat up and looked at Voldemort, who looked rather miserable. Harry arched his eyes and said, "So she was your second choice?"
Voldemort looked down at the floor. "Actually she was about my last. I picked her up when I was visiting the States. I was driving around and she was hitchhiking. So I gave her a ride... I never knew it would end this way."
Harry nodded. For a second he almost felt sorry for Voldemort. Almost.
A shout came from the other room. "VOLDY-POO! AH CAN'T GET THE NEOSPORIN! CAN YAH COME IN AN' HELP ME, DAHLIN'?"
Voldemort sighed and slowly left the room. As soon as he left, Harry ran to the window and opened it. He saw he was only on the first floor of the old Riddle House. Harry glanced over his shoulder, crawled out the window and ran as fast as he could...
FIN!
