Victory

The one with the long winded speech. Humor/Parody. AU. OOC. One-Shot. Complete.

AN: Inspired by Dr. Doofenshmirtz in Phineas and Ferb the Movie: Across the 2nd Dimension.

"So it has come to this." Harry leaned forward slightly as a smile appeared on his face. "The most feared Dark Lord in history... at my feet. How does it feel, Tom? To know that you have been defeated by a mere boy of twelve."

"You're seventeen Harry," Hermione interrupted.

He looked at her and rolled his eyes, "That's not what the papers will say. It's a better story if I'm portrayed younger, a real David and Goliath. Think of the headlines."

"David is estimated to have been fifteen years old when he defeated Goliath."

"Fourteen then, that works out somehow. Let me redo that last bit." He turned away from Hermione, back to his nemesis and cleared his throat before continuing. "To know you have been defeated by a mere boy of fourteen! I won! With a fraction of your age, and your training! I haven't even finished school! An unqualified child defeated you."

"We helped," Ron added.

"Shhh, you're ruining my speech."

"Sorry."

"Right. Where was I? Again." Harry shook his head to focus. "You had countless wizards and witches at your beck and call, giants, vampires, even acromantulas."

"Why is it always spiders?" Ron whimpered quietly. Hermione hugged him. Harry ignored them.

"You took over the Ministry! You took over the school! And you still lost! How does it feel?! You - with your lack of nose, hair and shoes! Maybe that's what you needed to succeed. A trip to the town centre before coming here. A nice toupee, snake-skin loafers and groucho glasses."

"That's ridiculous," Hermione complained.

"What are groucho glasses?" asked Ron.

Harry was shifting his stance, trying to figure out which one looked more impressive, as he explained quickly. "It's a gag disguise. A pair of black frames with a nose, mustache and bushy eyebrows." He decided on a classic. Feet hips width apart, back straight, chest out, head held high, left arm down with a clenched fist, right arm straight out wielding his wand.

Hermione was not satisfied with that response so she added on. "They are a caricature of stage makeup done by comedian Groucho Marx in his performances. They have been very iconic around the muggle world since the nineteen-forties and are used for comedic purposes."

"And who is Groucho Marx?" Ron's forehead furrowed.

"Julius Henry Marx was born on the second of October 1890…"

"Stop it, Hermione." Harry did not change his position, it would ruin his aesthetic otherwise. "Ron doesn't need the man's biography. He was an old muggle comedian, Ron, that's all. And will the two of you please stop interrupting me? It's seriously messing with the atmosphere I'm trying to set. Questions and comments will be taken at the end, alright?" From the corner of his eyes he could see the duo nod and mime zipping their lips closed. Harry took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders a bit and tried to set the mood, again. "Thinking about it, I don't believe you went wrong in your attire, Tom. It goes way before that. You lost the moment you decided to take over the world. You had dreams and aspirations beyond what you, or anyone, could achieve. And you had the wrong motivation. The rebellion won because WE, the oppressed, had something real to fight for! You want to know what that is? I know you do. You like to hoard knowledge like an ant storing for winter. But you are not an ant. You, Tom, are a grasshopper!" There was a cough to his side, Harry wanted to glare at the interruption but charged on, the perfect retort flowing seamlessly from his lips. "You know where you went wrong, oh great nameless one?" He paused for effect, his eyes widening, which made him look unhinged as a smile split his face, teeth shining in the moonlight. He then whispered in a menacing staccato. "You. never. lost. a. toy. train." Harry flung his arms out in a flourish as if waiting for applause.

"Um, what?" Hermione and Ron asked in unison.

"Glad I got that off my chest."

"Did you really drag us out, in the middle of the night, to perform a soliloquy about a stupid toy?!" Hermione was furious.

"Don't insult Mr Choo-Choo, he gave his life to the cause." Harry defended.

Ron was still confused. "Who is Mr Choo-Choo?"

Hermione sighed tiredly. "Can we go back inside now?"

The three friends walked out of the Forbidden Forest towards the castle. The walk was done in complete silence.

At the entrance to the school they were greeted by Ginny. "Have fun?" she asked while eating a chocolate muffin.

"I still don't know what we just did." Ron answered.

Hermione stomped away and passed Ginny while yelling back at her, "I can't believe you didn't tell us he was going to do a monologue."

Ginny laughed. "I hope he got the dramatic pauses right this time."

"Mate, what was that?" Ron asked.

"I am not completely satisfied with my last words to Tom. I thought I did well, but it's been bothering me ever since. Don't you hate that. In the moment, you're like - 'Ha! I got you! My word choices are awesome, take that!' Then I started reliving it, and it wasn't as great as I originally thought."

"Right."

"It's like when Hermione looks over our homework and returns it covered in red ink."

"She loves to do that." Ron nodded in agreement.

"Anyway, I'll come up with the perfect thing to say, I just know it. Then I'll make him listen to it. He totally owes me."

"Uh, mmm, huh." Ron paused. "Voldemort's been dead for weeks."

Harry patted him on the shoulder. "Oh, I know."

"Then why…"

"The problem with villain monologues is that the good guys are still alive, mistake one, and use the time during the long speech to get away, mistake two. Classic hero-nemesis set-up."

"But you weren't the bad guy. He was."

"Correct, and he liked to ramble. And he lost. See the connection?"

"No." Ron shook his head. "Is this another muggle thing?"

"Sure."

Ron nodded, took the muffin from Ginny and walked away eating it looking deep in thought.

"Did yelling at the forest floor make you feel better?" Ginny asked as they walked back to their dorms.

"A bit, though the victory vents always make more sense in my dreams. It's not like I ever had a toy train either."

THE END