(A/N: I'm scared I'm going to lose all my readers once the Harry thing is
over!! **boowhoo!!**)
Voldemort, not knowing the famous Harry Potter lived with the Dursley, went over at the time scheduled (took a taxi this time). He rang their doorbell and waited.
The door opened and out came Mr. Dursley. He was rather larger, larger than Voldemort expected anyway.
"You the plumber?" he grunted.
"Yes sir E!"
He allowed Voldemort inside and glared at him. Dudley was playing with his new airplane Aunt Marge gave him in the living room, when Mrs. Dursley was in the kitchen making tea.
Dudley waddled up to Voldemort. "You look stupid."
Voldemort knelt down and smiled at him. "Compared to who?" he asked innocently.
Screams came from upstairs, making Voldemort jump. "What was that? Do you have a ghoul up there?"
The family gave nervous looks at one another and smiled weakly. "That just. . . our new dog."
"Oh! That dog seems kinda weird, doesn't he?"
"He's having. . . emotional problems. . . it's been happening often lately." Mr. Dursley made his way up the stairs and a door opened, then slammed shut.
Mrs. Dursley gave Voldemort another weak smile. "The toilet is upstairs. Follow me."
Dudley gave him a last evil glare and left to get back to his plane.
Voldemort followed her up the steps, the screams getting louder and more painful.
Suddenly it all stopped and Mr. Dursley came out of the room. "Knocked himself out."
With that, he went down the stairs- looking like he was in a hurry, but his overweight was slowing him.
Mrs. Dursley gave him another weak smile and walked him into the bathroom.
"Silly Dudley was. . ." She cleared her voice. ". . .oh it's no big deal. All young boys do things like that. Anyway, it can't be used without flooding and it's Dudley's bathroom so. . ." She cleared her voice again. ". . .you know what I mean. He must go when he must go and isn't able to go when he must." She blushed slightly, but it soon faded away.
"Of course, of course. I'll fight it til it gives up- to the end!"
Mrs. Dursley gave him an awkward look and, not daring to know what he would do, she left the bathroom.
~ * A FEW HOURS LATER * ~
A few hours later, Voldemort was walking down the hall to tell them that it was working when he found someone holding his head with one hand and opening the door with the other.
"Hey sonny, need some help there?" Voldemort offered, walking over to the boy.
"AHHHHRRGGG!"
"That's a funny response. Do you speak another language? Lemme guess, let me guess. . . um. . . AH ARG GR?"
The boy collapsed to the ground in pain, clutching his head with both hands. "Near. . . he's. . . near!"
"Who is?"
"Vo- vold. . . voldemo- voldemort!"
Voldmeort gasped. The boy- black hair looking like he had never brushed it -Voldomort seriously considered giving him a hairbrush during one of their. . . pleasant. . . visits- baggy clothes. . . it was Harry Potter **chorus from nowhere sings** No, Harry Potter, the guy he's trying to kill **thunder bolts and scary music starts**
"Harry, old buddy! It's wonderful to see ya again!" Voldemort would have shaken hands with him, but his hands were busy. "Did you hurt yourself? You always are getting into trouble and hurting yourself. Here, lemme see it. . ." He pulled his hands away from his hand and looked at the flaming scar.
"Tisk, tisk, Harry! This looks infected. How in the world could you have gotten such a thing?"
"It's alright, Harry. Yes, yes I'm sure it hurts. Now hold still- OW!" Harry had slapped him. But Voldemort found a way to get back to him. He hugged Harry.
"Aww. . . does it still hurt?"
He dodged another slap. "Lemme kiss your boo-boo. . ." He bent down and kissed Harry's scar. A few seconds later, he fainted.
"Must have been so overwhelmed with happiness!"
(a/n: I know that if I spent a few hours of thinking I could have come up with a better Harry day, but that's not the last of him- no sir E!)
Voldemort, not knowing the famous Harry Potter lived with the Dursley, went over at the time scheduled (took a taxi this time). He rang their doorbell and waited.
The door opened and out came Mr. Dursley. He was rather larger, larger than Voldemort expected anyway.
"You the plumber?" he grunted.
"Yes sir E!"
He allowed Voldemort inside and glared at him. Dudley was playing with his new airplane Aunt Marge gave him in the living room, when Mrs. Dursley was in the kitchen making tea.
Dudley waddled up to Voldemort. "You look stupid."
Voldemort knelt down and smiled at him. "Compared to who?" he asked innocently.
Screams came from upstairs, making Voldemort jump. "What was that? Do you have a ghoul up there?"
The family gave nervous looks at one another and smiled weakly. "That just. . . our new dog."
"Oh! That dog seems kinda weird, doesn't he?"
"He's having. . . emotional problems. . . it's been happening often lately." Mr. Dursley made his way up the stairs and a door opened, then slammed shut.
Mrs. Dursley gave Voldemort another weak smile. "The toilet is upstairs. Follow me."
Dudley gave him a last evil glare and left to get back to his plane.
Voldemort followed her up the steps, the screams getting louder and more painful.
Suddenly it all stopped and Mr. Dursley came out of the room. "Knocked himself out."
With that, he went down the stairs- looking like he was in a hurry, but his overweight was slowing him.
Mrs. Dursley gave him another weak smile and walked him into the bathroom.
"Silly Dudley was. . ." She cleared her voice. ". . .oh it's no big deal. All young boys do things like that. Anyway, it can't be used without flooding and it's Dudley's bathroom so. . ." She cleared her voice again. ". . .you know what I mean. He must go when he must go and isn't able to go when he must." She blushed slightly, but it soon faded away.
"Of course, of course. I'll fight it til it gives up- to the end!"
Mrs. Dursley gave him an awkward look and, not daring to know what he would do, she left the bathroom.
~ * A FEW HOURS LATER * ~
A few hours later, Voldemort was walking down the hall to tell them that it was working when he found someone holding his head with one hand and opening the door with the other.
"Hey sonny, need some help there?" Voldemort offered, walking over to the boy.
"AHHHHRRGGG!"
"That's a funny response. Do you speak another language? Lemme guess, let me guess. . . um. . . AH ARG GR?"
The boy collapsed to the ground in pain, clutching his head with both hands. "Near. . . he's. . . near!"
"Who is?"
"Vo- vold. . . voldemo- voldemort!"
Voldmeort gasped. The boy- black hair looking like he had never brushed it -Voldomort seriously considered giving him a hairbrush during one of their. . . pleasant. . . visits- baggy clothes. . . it was Harry Potter **chorus from nowhere sings** No, Harry Potter, the guy he's trying to kill **thunder bolts and scary music starts**
"Harry, old buddy! It's wonderful to see ya again!" Voldemort would have shaken hands with him, but his hands were busy. "Did you hurt yourself? You always are getting into trouble and hurting yourself. Here, lemme see it. . ." He pulled his hands away from his hand and looked at the flaming scar.
"Tisk, tisk, Harry! This looks infected. How in the world could you have gotten such a thing?"
"It's alright, Harry. Yes, yes I'm sure it hurts. Now hold still- OW!" Harry had slapped him. But Voldemort found a way to get back to him. He hugged Harry.
"Aww. . . does it still hurt?"
He dodged another slap. "Lemme kiss your boo-boo. . ." He bent down and kissed Harry's scar. A few seconds later, he fainted.
"Must have been so overwhelmed with happiness!"
(a/n: I know that if I spent a few hours of thinking I could have come up with a better Harry day, but that's not the last of him- no sir E!)