Thanks to: the pure rose (your story idea sounds great!), me gusta books, ultra violet catastrophy ( hope you feel happier), I'm Your 108th Reviewer (Yeah, it's hard to make a plotline for this without having a dozen (hundred) plotholes. I replaced the follow-the-spiders part with a follow-the-yellow-brick road-part. Just makes this monstrosity more monstrous than ever : As for writing the third parody…well…maybe…) Black Triforce (Yes, Betsy is indeed dead. Harry just hasn't noticed yet…if he ever does), abbsy, Jenny (FINALLY! Gosh, you're sposed to be my FRIEND), TheAnonymousOneWhoReviewsOften (like I said, I'm considering writing a parody for the third book…I dunno though…I might be losing my mojo), Sabine Strohem-Moss, Gemma, Mz hellfire (I was wondering where you'd got to! Glad you're back), Nutz Nina (thanks I am indeed random, and I'm not real sure how many times you've reviewed this but thanks all the same!), and Kalira (Haha I know it's confusing…I don't really get it either, and I wrote it! Isn't that just sad? But yeah basically Slytherin's the "monster" and he just built that big ole coliseum cuz he got bored. And I haven't been updating, I just got back from vacation as I write this. Sorry!).

Thanks to my SS reviewers: cheesy toasty (shotgun means like you get to sit up front next to the driver…I think. See I'm not really American, we just moved here ten years ago and I am quite slow. Oh and I usually don't email people back, I just respond here) and Dazee Sagittarius.

Disclaimer: I don't own, you don't sue, we go home happy. Well you probably are home when you read this...nevermind. Now enjoy...

Chapter Eleven: In Which There Is Much Lusciousness and Advancing, and the Title of Which is So Long It Surely Will Not Fit Into the Space In the Chapter Select

Previously, on the Young and the Sorcerous…

"RELEASE THE DRAGONS!" Slytherin called to Riddle from somewhere above.

Harry gulped…this was it. Lions he could handle, especially lions as pussy as that. But dragons? A heavy door opened on the other side of the Coliseum, and noises could be heard in the darkness…

Noises that sounded an awful lot like…squeaking. High-pitched squeaking and snuffling.

"Riddle, you idiot of a great-great-great-etc-grandson! I said the dragons, not the chipmunks!" And indeed, there came from the gate a wild, frenzied herd of…chipmunks. Harry shrugged. "Could be worse," he said. But that was before a chipmunk bit him on the ankle. Harry roared. "OKAY, NOW I'M MAD!"

He pulled out his wand. "Thank God I have this," he said smugly, and immediately began skewering critters. After twenty minutes or so, Riddle turned frantically to Slytherin. "Great-Et-Cetera-Grandpa, he's killed all the chipmunks!" Riddle cried desperately, gesturing at Harry, who was now cooking the dead chipmunks (who were shish kabob'd on his wand) over a fire.

"Well, of course he has, you bloody IDIOT! Where the hell did you put the dragons!" Slytherin roared.

"Uhhhh…I'm not quite sure…" Riddle replied nervously.

"HOW THE HELL CAN YOU MISPLACE DRAGONS? If I'd known my heir would turn out to be a moron like you, I'd never have had children!" the ancient evil incarnate shrilled. Meanwhile, in a galaxy far, far away…

"Hurry the hell up and shoot the dragons, Legolas! Don't take your damn time about it!"

"But Gimli, I was just in the middle of my song!"

"We're all gonna die, dammit!"

"Gimliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii….."

"Fine, finish the damn song!"

"…little brown jug, how I love—OW!"

"I TOLD you to shoot the dragons first, you damn elf!"

Back to our heroes struggling in the clutches of the evil Lord Slytherin…

"There's only one of me, you know," Harry commented.

You forgot Ginny.

"She's headless. She doesn't count."

Fine! Back to our HERO struggling in the clutches of the evil Lord Slytherin…

"Alright, boy!" Slytherin cried. "I'll finish you off myself, since my idiot heir is a useless sack of crap!" He picked up a giant, broken rusted pipe. Harry gulped. But he needn't have worried, because the next moment he heard a fluttering of wings. "Perhaps it is an unmentioned bird here to save my ass!" Harry cried gladly, awaiting its entrance.

Several minutes later, the bird approached. It was small and yellow. Harry stared in surprise as Slytherin sneered. "Your savior, Dumbledore, has sent Tweety Bird to help you?"

"His name is Nancy!" Harry roared furiously. "And he's the best Pokemon Master of all time, you big jerk!"

Slytherin blinked confusedly for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak—and was cut off by "I tink I saw a puddy tat! I did, I did, I did see a puddy—" SPLAT. Riddle held the dead canary in his clenched fist. Harry burned with shame at the lameness of his savior. Slytherin shrugged. "Well, turns out you're good for something, my boy." And that's when the chaos broke out.

Harry ran around screaming. Slytherin ran around screaming. Riddle picked lint off his sweater.

Why were they (with the exception of Riddle) running around screaming, you say? Well, I am quite sure you'd scream too, if a large troll had fallen out of nowhere wielding a sword. But unlike Harry, Slytherin, and the rest of us. Riddle is cool, suave, collected, nonchalant—that is, he was suffering a severe case of ADD. So he stood there, staring in fascination at the small grey fluffballs on his lovely shiny sweater.

But Riddle's battle with ADD and how some medicine really helped him out in the future to become a great dark lord by giving him concentration skills is another story. Well, it is actually very vital to this one, but let's go back to Harry now.

"Damn straight, woman!" Shut up, Harry.

Ahem…Slytherin's eyes bulged as he ran around screaming shrilly, a strange combination. "It's the Sorting Troll! Dumbledore's sent the Sorting Troll!"

Harry said indignantly, "He prefers Nancy!"

"Whatever." This remark seemed to anger the troll, as it bashed Slytherin on the head with his sword. "YEOWWWWW!" the ancient incarnate screamed. "I know that sword! I know that bash! That's GODRIC'S SWORD!" Harry was very confused, as the history of the founders was not explained in this story. Slytherin sighed and conjured up a flashback.

A much younger Slytherin was standing at a bar in the 11th century when a man with a luscious mane of hair walked in with a girl on each arm and a sword hanging off his belt, which he picked up and bashed playfully over Slytherin's head. "Godric" Slytherin said nervously. "Salzy, baby, meet Helga and Rowena." Salazar looked around shiftily, and very suspiciously, I might add. "W-who are they?" he scoffed.

"They're supermodels, baby, and they're gonna help us build a school, see." The man—Godric—winked in a luscious way, all the while throwing back his luscious hair. Slytherin glanced around nervously and subtly killed two Muggleborns in the bar. "Sounds like a good idea," the dark lord said. He shifted his eyes then softly chuckled. "Mwahahahahahahahahaha!"

"Salzy, baby, what are you doing? Could you be laughing evilly in a manner that suggests you are planning to become an evil dark lord and turn against our not-yet-existent school?"

Slytherin tugged his collar. "Erm…" But just then Godric's luscious cell phone went off and he said "Scuse me, cats and kittens," as he left the bar. Salazar heaved a sigh of relief, while Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff simply stood there blankfaced and useless, much like their houses.

Harry gasped as they left the flashback sequence. "You turned against that luscious, luscious Godric! How!"

"He always got the chicks!" Salazar snarled. "And he would always smack me around with that bloody sword of his!" But then the troll roared, and all that was forgotten. Mostly because the troll cleaved Salazar's head off in the next instant.

Harry blanched. "I say, that really was a bit harsh." The troll roared again. Harry said quickly, "B-b-but I'm not complaining!"

"Great-Etc-Grampy!" Riddle cried out tearfully. "Nooooooooo!" He whirled around. "Now you'll pay, Potter!" Harry gulped. "B-b-but I didn't do anything!" he pleaded. But Riddle kept advancing, brandishing his wand. Harry whipped his head around wildly, looking around for some sort of help. Then he saw Ginny, who was still running around, holding, he noticed, that magic laptop. No help there, though. She was as headless as ever. The troll! No…it seemed to have stabbed itself and was lying on the ground bleeding to death. Not that it noticed. Harry gulped again, backing away as Riddle advanced on him.

"Listen…couldn't we just settle this with a game of poker, perhaps?" Harry uttered hopefully. Riddle was about to reply with an angry NO! when a thoughtful look flashed over his features. "Welllll…" he considered.

But Harry wasn't going to settle for an unheroic defeat. "No wait, I changed my mind. I will go down fighting heroically, and everyone will remember the name of Harry Potter, greatest wizard ever, Heir of Slytherin—"

Riddle's face colored. "How many times must I tell you! I'm the heir, not you, you bloody sack of crap!" And the game of advancing and backing away began again.

I am going to die. I am going to die. I am going to die…unpublicized! Harry wailed internally. And then—CRASH!

"Stupid girl!" Riddle snarled at Ginny, who'd banged into him, the laptop flying out of her hands and landing somewhere in front of Harry, and was now lying at his feet. "You dare to bump ME, the great Voldemort!"

Harry blinked like an owl. "….Whaaaaa…?"

Riddle/Voldemort sneered in a very sneery fashion. "Oh yes, Potter, did I mention that I am the memory of Lord Voldemort preserved by an online diary?"

Harry gaped. "Man, that makes nooooooooo sense…"

Riddle/Voldemort shrugged. "Yes, well, having a middle name like Marvolo really helps with anagrams."

"But—computers weren't even in EXISTENCE when Voldemort was young!" came Hermione's voice from somewhere. "Hermione, you're Petrified, remember? You're not around to point out the author's mistakes!" Harry yelled out as the author chuckled madly.

Riddle/Voldemort looked around in confusion at the mention of an author, then shrugged. He began advancing again. Yes that's right, again with the advancing. Why all this advancing, the reader might ask? Well, you see, advancing plays a rather important part in this boring, dragged out climax because as Riddle/Voldemort advanced, he just so happened to advance onto a rectangular machine made of chips and covered in plastic. Yes, that's right, Riddle had just advanced right onto his laptop.

CRUNCH.

"Shit—"

Whoooooooooooooooosh.

And with those sound effects, Riddle began blurring out of existence. "POTTER! YOU FOOL! I'LL GET YOU, AND YOUR LITTLE GINNY, TOO! BWAHAHAHAHA—"

And he was gone. "There's even less left of him than last year," Harry remarked to Ginny, who had finally regrown her head, referring to last year's incident when Voldemort happened to leave his face behind, which had been sold on eBay for a rather good deal.

Ginny blushed furiously and her head exploded once again. Harry sighed. "So…what now?"

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Errr….strange chapter, I know. Was really at a loss on what to write. It should be over either next chapter or the one after that. Not sure. But that's good because school starts next Monday, and whatever fresh horrors lie in store for your unfortunate author, writing fanfiction will simply not do for long.

What is this I hear about not being allowed to answer reviews anymore? I wish fanfiction would notify us about new rules. If anyone chooses to snitch on my story because I answer reviews,

you are an asswipe

please, asswipe, do TELL me that something is wrong first so I can fix it instead of going to the Gestapo or whoever enforces these wacko rules and getting my story deleted (cuz you know, if my story does get deleted over something dumb like that it will be back up again in a jiffy)

Well, there's the promised update (I've been on vacation for a while, remember?) Now comes your part of the bargain.

Meaning…

REVIEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!