KT SHY: I couldn't resist after seeing The Chamber of Secrets. Enjoy. Short and sweet. Like a pop tart.

THE HOUSE THAT RIDDLE CRASHED AT

Epilogue: A Thursday one year later… end of summer.

Lucius Malfoy turned in his sleep, his long blond, soft, and full-bodied hair shimmering in the moonlight. The air that gently ruffled the curtains was still warm even though summer had turned to autumn. It was such a blessing to be able to sleep so peacefully these days. Many of the stress lines that had creased his face months ago were gone, and he'd even begun to walk about with a little bounce in his step… which often frightened his colleagues at work - or "miserable minions" as he referred to them. True his recent schemes had failed, true he had lost that ungrateful house-elf Dobby due to Harry Potter's meddling with a sock… but aside from all that, his home was a peaceful one, what with Riddle gone from it… most likely forever.

Only the Diary, stabbed and bleeding with ink, stood as a reminder, a testament to the memory of Voldemort as a - Lucius gave an unconscious shudder - teenager.

While Lucius and his wife slept upstairs, Draco, was down in the study working last minute on a project assigned to make up for the lack of an end of term exam the previous year. A project that dealt with a mixing of unicorn phlegm, pygmy dandruff and phoenix tears. The frantic boy was oblivious to the fact that the phoenix tears container happened to be REALLY close to the Diary, which still sat in the waste paper basket. (Without Dobby the house had become a living trash heap… none of the Malfoy's would lower themselves to do menial labour. They found it much more dignified to wallow in their own filth.) With only a few hours until he would have to get ready to go the train station that would take him to Hogwarts for another school year, Draco worked like a boy possessed to get the project done… and in his haste accidentally knocked the small vial of phoenix tears onto the overflowing waste basket… or more accurately, onto the Diary.

Lucius was prodded awake by his wife – she'd been stabbing him with a shapely but sharp finger nail to stop his snoring – and he groggily turned over, hair flipping over one shoulder like in a shampoo commercial, now facing the door. It was then that he heard the soft footfalls approach from the hallway. The footfalls that brought with them…. the voice.

'Hey Mr. M, what's happenin? I got yer Herbal Essence right here!'

Lucius threw himself into a seated position, eyes bulging, and the nice fruity shampoo smell permeating the room. Tom Riddle stood before him, a harbinger of doom, with a hair care basket in one hand, and a tube of Pringles in the other.

'Being the gentleman that I am I brocha a lil' somethin'… seein' as I'm gonna be stayin' here a while!'

Lucius' jaw dropped and he started savagely pinching himself to no avail. This was not a nightmare. Tom chucked the basket of Herbal Essence products at him. 'Now, I gotta bounce before any of those guys in the tight black shirts show up to give you "the urge".' With that the boy turned and left, the sound of his feet slamming down the stairs and straight toward the living room. There was a blast as the television was turned on, volume to the max.

Lucius stared straight ahead in shock, wrinkles popping out on his face and strands of hair loosening from his scalp in large heaps of stress. He then let out a primal and soulful cry straight from the diaphragm.

'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!'