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Thanks!.....and now the story continues.....
Chapter 4: The Lawnmower and the Light Saber
Harry grinned. Uncle Vernon's lawnmower was perfect! And goodness knows the MANY times Harry had been forced to mow the grass. HE certainly knew it worked perfectly. The mower was an XR 450, top class (so the television ad said), a gaudy, nauseating purple that only Vernon himself would have picked.
All of a sudden, Harry heard a skittering noise inside the shed. What was that? He wondered nervously. It was simply impossible that Voldie recovered so fast! Inconceivable! He muttered under his breath. But no, it was simply Snape. The oily git.
Harry sighed, disappointed. Why did it have to be Snape he was stuck with, of all people? Why not...Cho? Harry sighed, momentarily letting himself drift away in his blissful dreams, forgetting the breakup...until a sharp bite threw him back into reality.
Blasted chipmunk.
Snape, (thank heavens), was NOT Cho, and the entire magical world rested in Potter's hands. Harry certainly did not want it known to the Daily Prophet that Voldemort escaped due to Potter boy's lovesick negligence—the thought was far too embarrassing to contemplate. "The Boy-Who-Lived: A Sorrowful Ballad of Romantic Pining," "Harry the Heartbreaker."
Snape the chipmunk was sitting on his foot, munching on yet another acorn. Does that stupid chipmunk ever stop eating? Harry wondered. The creature glared at Harry, as if it had heard every word, and continued its chewing.
Harry focused his thoughts on the lawnmower. He switched the ignition to on, and all worked well. The engine was extremely loud, though. Oh well. Anyhow, Snape hopped on top of the steering wheel as if to navigate. The lawnmower's engine was in top shape, and Potter sat on the mower seat. Bomb's away. He drove the mower toward the front of the lawn, where he knew Voldie was.
The Dark Lord was finished clutching his posterior when Harry arrived, though he was holding what resembled a muggle child's toy light saber. Most likely Voldemort abhorred
Muggles so much, he had forgotten all about muggle appliances. Voldemort, light saber in hand, flailed his arms in Harry and Snape's general direction and angrily attempted the killing curse. Unsuccessfully, or course. Harry and Snape were maneuvering the mower so that it faced Ol' Voldie. Their tactic was to squish Voldemort—violent, but possibly effective. Unfortunately, they failed to consider Voldie was standing at the front door. Harry hurtled the mower toward the Dark Lord, but not before Voldie ducked, and the door was no more.
Crap.
Potter boy reversed the contraption, and found to his horror that not only was he illegally operating this mower (Uncle Vernon was not supervising him), he had just driven it into his aunt's front door. At this point, Voldemort wasn't even giving chase; he was pointing and laughing at the rubble. Harry felt his face burn bright red. How depressing was it that Potter's own adversary had stopped fighting only to become hysterical at the sight of him? This was too much. Harry restarted the motor and willed the fight to begin once more.