PERSONALITY 6: THE SURF-BUM HIPPIE COMPLEX

Chapter 21: Percival & the Hippie Chicks

From the moment Percy had been nerd-napped by the dementors, he had seriously questioned whether anyone would have come to save him. But why should they? He knew deep inside that he had been selfish, rude, and well… a prat. Yet, a part of him wanted so badly to fulfill his dream---being the Minister of Magic.

Thus, miles and miles away from the wedding, frozen in a spell, and surrounded by dementors, he gave up all hope of returning to his family, and instead, on how he could defeat those that held him captive, so that he would be able to return home… and gloat.

The dementors threw him on the plush red carpet before a tall skinny man, with overgrown hair and tie-dye clothing. As the Dark Lord gazed upon his captive, Percy felt no fear.

"Dude. How are the waves?"

"What?" Percy stared.

"The waves man. The waves." Lord Voldemort took another deep whiff from a pipe. After weaving a little unsteadily towards Percy, he spoke again, "You return my psychedelic gaze unblinking," commented Lord Voldemort.

Percy raised an eyebrow. So this was the person everyone was afraid of?

"Surprising, isn't it?" returned Voldie, giving Percy a lopsided smile.

Percy jumped. "You—"

"Aw man, dude, chill," Lord V bobbed his head. "Now, listen carefully…" Lord V draped an arm over Percy's shoulder. "Now. Do you know why I had you nerd-napped?"

"Errrm…" Percy had vague theories concerning it, but wasn't sure how to express them.

"Express… express away," smiled Lord V. "Time is yours for the moment. Mother Nature loves me. And she loves you too," he added.

"My Lord," Snape appeared at the doorway looking worried. "Don't you think you've had enough—"

"Peeeeace," responded Lord V, holding up the peace sign. "Come join us, toots."

Percy looked shocked upon seeing Snape, and Snape himself looked annoyed. "My Lord," he whispered dryly, "I would prefer that you don't call me that—"

"Tooots, honey, man, dude, like, person!" exclaimed Voldemort. "What you need, is to take a niiiiice whiff of this stuff---"

"No thank you."

Lord Voldemort stood upright in his tie-dye clothing. The slap of his bare feet against the floor echoed as he walked towards Snape. "Now," he said. "Are you my hippie chick?"

Snape mumbled something incoherent.

"I said, are you my hippie chick? Because all Death Eaters are hippie chicks! And if you don't want to be one, then you can't be a Death Eater!"

Percy gaped from his tasseled cushion.

"Now I want you to sing the Hippie Chick Death Eater loyalty song to convince me that you're are indeed the dude I think you are."

"In front of him?" Snape pointed a pale finger at Percy.

"Man, there is no need to be rude! He has a name you know! Tell him, nerd-dude."

"Err, it's Percy."

"Yes. Now, toots, sing the song for our dear friend Percival—you don't mind if I call you that now, do you man?" Voldemort held a thumbs up sign at Percy, who stared with profound confusion and shook his head slowly.

Toots—or rather, Snape, looked as though he was going to strike Lord V, but he didn't. Instead, he cleared his throat, and sang,

"Hey, hey, I'm a hippie chick!

Hey, hey—"

"No no noooooo!" exclaimed Voldemort. "Dude! There is no radness in the song if you don't do the hand-motions!"

Snape's jaw tightened noticeably. Voldemort smiled. "Aw, no need to be shy my fellow hippie! Mother Nature loves you!" He patted Snape on the back in an act of consolation. Snape was seething by now. With a wry glance at Percy, he sang:

"Hey, hey, I'm a hippy chick!
Hey, hey, I'm a bad hippy chick!
I blow up people with nifty wand tricks!
I've got a press-on tattoo that permanently sticks!

Don't hate me man, 'cuz I love peace!
The Death Eater group is such a tease!
He's quite a difficult character to please--
He punishes those who don't grovel on their knees!

Hey, hey, I'm a hippy chick!
Hey, hey, I'm a hot hippy chick!
Being evil is what makes me tick,
Hey, hey, don't hate me because I'm a hippy chick!"

Percy felt dizzy. He was never aware that Voldemort had a different side to him, and Snape's music act was just too much.

"Now, Percival," said Voldemort. "Let's get down to business shall we? First, take a nice whiff of this."

Percy knew better than to smoke random pipes, for he had a fear of backwash, saliva swaps, and other little nasties. Yet, he knew he could not say no to the Dark Lord. And so he took a polite whiff.

"Ah, that's chill dude!" exclaimed Voldemort. "Dontcha like it? It's the best of the Shire pipeweed."

Percy coughed.

"Anyway, are you aware of the reason why you have been taken captive?"

"To get Harry Potter?" Percy instantly responded.

Voldemort frowned suddenly.

"Pssst!" called Snape. When Percy turned around, Snape whispered frantically, "Never say that word to him while he's in a hippy mood!"

"Hrrmph," Voldemort said, crossing his arms.

"Mother Nature loves you," Snape reminded him in a sympathetic tone.

Voldemort brightened considerably. "Yes, well, I think you should know, Percival, that I have a position open for a personal secretary. Would you like the job?"

Percy was taken aback. Work for You-Know-Who? A small voice warned him that he should find a way to escape and deny the job. Yet, another voice chided him. When would he get another chance like this? Voldemort was the most powerful wizard in the world… perhaps… perhaps…

"You have something on your mind!" said Voldemort in a fortune-telling voice.

"Er…" Percy nodded. "Yes."

"Ha! I knew it!" Voldemort looked pleased with himself. "Dude, don't tell me, don't tell me…" he took another whiff of the pipe and blew a smoke ring. "You want… me to… give you… the position… of… Minister… of… Magic!"

"How did you know that?" gasped Percy.

Snape rolled his eyes. "The Dark Lord is a skilled Legilimens."

"Shh!" Voldemort wagged his finger at Snape. "Don't spoil the fun man! Chill!" He turned back to Percy. "Well Percival, that sounds fair enough to me. If you work for me and I find your work satisfied, I'll give you the Ministry of Magic job! What do you say?"

Percy was struggling with himself. Must… not… do… it…must…not… join…the…dark…side…

"Great! When do I start?"

Immediately Lord Voldemort grabbed Percy's arm and slapped a small patch onto it, then held it out to Snape, who spat on it. His arm bolted with a searing pain as the Death Mark was burned into his skin and he lost consciousness.