The moon was high in the sky by the time the Hogwarts Express arrived at its destination. Harry collected his allies and stored them away in his pockets. The fermented pea mush spilled out a little, but this only served to reassure Harry that a little part of one of his comrades would always be with him – in the form of a brownish-green, crusty stain on his best set of robes.

He boarded a thestral-drawn carriage with a group of alarmed second-year Ravenclaws. If he had not been too busy considering the best way of presenting to Dumbledore this new and grave information concerning Voldemort's plans for world domination, he would have heard comments like:

"What is that smell?"

"I don't know, but it's foul… and sort of alcoholic."

"I think it's coming from him."

"Potter? I do, too…"

"IT IS THE STENCH OF DEATH THAT ASSAULTS YOUR NOSTRILS!" Harry informed them, sinking back into his reverie as quickly as he had snapped out of it.

The Ravenclaws quaked with fear and scooted as far away from Harry as possible.

"What's wrong with him?" The one sitting closest to him whispered to her neighbour.

"I don't know," he said. "But I heard him yelling earlier, on the train."

"Really? About what?"

"I dunno… Something about cobwebs and the Dark Lord and misery."

"Er… do you want to switch seats?"

"No, I'm cool."

Harry ignored the stares of his classmates and teachers as he walked through the Great Hall, taking a seat at the far end of the Gryffindor table. Several times during the commencement feast, he tried to lock eyes with Dumbledore but never succeeded in catching the Headmaster's attention.

"We'll have to accost the old man after the feast, before he goes back to his rooms," Harry whispered into his robes.

The fourth-year next to him froze with her fork halfway to her mouth and willed herself not to look over.

At the other end of the table, Ron and Hermione were trying to explain to a curious Seamus and Dean why Harry was sitting so far away and alone, with messier-than-usual hair, a pasty, emaciated face, and occasionally muttering into his own chest.

"Um… well, I think he had a bad summer," Ron said vaguely.

"A bad summer?" Dean snorted. "He looks like he's cracked!"

Ginny kicked him under the table because it seemed like the thing to do. Silently, she agreed. As she stared down the table at Harry, an empty shell of the man-boy he once was, Ginny felt something hard rising in her throat, rendering it difficult to breath. Her eyes watered and her nose itched… She sneezed. 'That boy's nervous breakdown is really going to fuck up Gryffindor's Quidditch team,' she thought.

When the feast was over, and everyone was leaving for their separate dormitories, Ron and Hermione waited around for Harry, but he was not moving from his seat.

"Come on, you guys, he's not coming," Ginny called over her shoulder. She and Dean had got up to leave, hand-in-hand, as soon as everyone was dismissed.

"Is he going to sit there all night?" Hermione asked.

"Dumbledore won't let him," Ron said.

Hermione looked as if she were about to cry.

Ron thought this an excellent moment to do something which involved both physical contact and a show of manly fortitude. He put his arm around Hermione's shoulders and said, "We still have each other."

Only after sharing a deep sigh did Ron and Hermione followed behind the rest of their classmates.

The Great Hall was now completely devoid of students… except for Harry.

"Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall called from the teachers' table. "Is there something you would like to discuss?"

"YES!" Harry jumped up and bounded across the room, screeching to a halt in front of Dumbledore. "HEADMASTER, THERE IS A MATTER THAT REQUIRES YOUR IMMEDIATE ATTENTION. IT CONCERNS…" Harry leaned in closer and beckoned for Dumbledore to do the same. He cupped his hand around his mouth and continued, "VOLDEMORT!"

Dumbledore's eardrum shot out of its snug little cavity and shattered into a million pieces on Harry's face.

"Perhaps we should continue this conversation in my office, Harry," Dumbledore suggested.

"YES, HEADMASTER, I-"

"The acoustics aren't so good in there," Dumbledore interrupted and proceeded to shut Harry up with a silencing charm.

At that point, unbeknownst to his colleagues, Snape experienced the most overwhelming orgasm of his adult life. (If any of the other teachers had been paying attention, they would have seen his habitual sneer spasm slightly and a few greasy hairs quiver.)

Dumbledore bid good night to the staff and led Harry to his office. Once inside, he sat behind his desk, steepled his fingers, and looked wise and ruminative. "What was it that you wanted to tell me, Harry?"

Harry flapped his jaw up and down rapidly, but no sound came out.

"Oh, yes!" Dumbledore laughed good-naturedly. "I almost forgot." He obtained a large glass jar tightly packed with human organs from one of the drawers of his desk, and fished out an eardrum. "And of course you'll be needing your voice back, too," he said, flicking his wand in Harry's general direction as he inserted the eardrum and stowed away the jar.

"HEADMASTER, I HAVE DISCOVERED A NEFARIOUS PLOY TO TAKE OVER THE SCHOOL CREATED BY NO OTHER THAN THAT DEPRAVED REPROBATE, RIDDLE!"

Dumbledore gestured for Harry to continue.

"IT WOULD SEEM THAT HE AND LUCIUS MALFOY HAVE PROCURED OR SOON WILL PROCURE LARGE AMOUNTS OF MIND-ALTERING DRUGS WITH WHICH TO MANIPULATE A LARGE PART OF THE STUDENT BODY!"

Dumbledore's hand shook as he reached for his lemon drops. "Tell me more, Harry. Regarding the drugs, that is."

"ALL THE INFORMATION IS HERE, HEADMASTER, IN THIS ENCODED LETTER TO LUCIUS MALFOY." Harry extracted a crumpled up piece of paper from his robes and handed it to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore stared at it for a moment. When he next spoke, his words were slow and measured. "Harry, how did you come to the conclusion that this is an encoded message?"

"RIDDLE LEFT IT BEHIND WHEN HE FLED FROM MY ROOM!" Harry informed the Headmaster impressively.

"Voldemort visited you, did he?"

"INDEED. AND THOUGH I CANNOT SAY THAT I CONQUERED HIM THIS TIME, MY ALLIES AND I CERTAINLY DID GET THE BETTER OF HIM IN BATTLE!"

"Your allies?"

"YES, THE CREATURES THAT LURK IN THE SHADOWS AND MAKE THEIR PRESENCE KNOWN ONLY WHEN THERE IS DIRE NEED FOR THEIR MILITARISTIC SERVICES."

After a moment's silence, Dumbledore spoke. "Harry, the piece of paper you have just given me is not a secret message from Voldemort. It is the list of school supplies that we send you every year," he said firmly, then added: "Did you purchase your school supplies?"

Harry stared at the Headmaster dumbly.

Author's Note: Writing parodies is sort of fun! Alas, my friends, every rose has its thorn – I am obligated to read the story that I am making fun of! Have you ever been laughing hysterically and felt this overwhelming Hate taking over your entire body at the same time? If you have not, that is probably good because, now that I think about it, it sounds pretty fucking crazy. Conversely, it is also sort of bad, because I am sorry but I have no idea how to begin describing it to you.