A/N: Sorry, this story kind of got put on hold, and yielded to my other one. But, now this one's back up, so enjoy!
Rory: I'm sorry. I hope you got cleared up by now! Umm… I really hope you don't mind if I don't use your stove idea, but I might use the apple idea, thanks!
Swanpride: Umm… what's Tristram Shandy? Is this good or bad?
Salazara: Thank you! I like your name.8-8-8-8-8-8
It was suddenly very dark. Harry could smell wood, polished and close up. The tried opening his eyes, but found that they already were open; it was just too dark to see. He tried looking down. He could see two little stumpy legs beneath him, complete with feet, and they were standing on – what else? – hard, polished, wood. He was very close to it.
"Where am I?" He voiced aloud.
"Inside you own nose, Potter." He heard Voldemort's snaky voice some from somewhere to his right. "The left nostril to be exact."
"Then how come I have feet?"
"We have feet," Volemort corrected, "I'm in the right nostril." Harry wished he could scream. He was suddenly flying through the air, and something had pinched him at what would have been his head. Now, he guessed it was the bridge of his nose. He heard Hermione's worried voice cry out,
"Harry, are you okay… ooh… I really didn't mean to Harry, I'm so sorry."
Then Ron's voice, "Harry, Harry, Hemione's just gone to her dormitory, probably to get a book or something, but don't panic, she'll figure a way to get you out. If anyone can, it's her." Despite Ron's assurances, Harry was still worried.
Hermione came back soon thereafter, absolutely frantic.
"Nothing! Nothing on anything like this, getting sucked into your own nose, arm, leg, eye, nothing!"
"So… we're going to have to make up a spell or potion or something?"
"No, Ron, don't you ever listen to your dad? We could get in serious trouble if we did that," She paused, and thought for a minute. "We're going to see Dumbledore."