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Oswald the Ottoman

Chapter Two: Let's do the Time Warp Again!

Harry, along with several members of the order, had finally found the way into Voldemort's inner sanctum. It had taken a while, but it would all soon pay off—Voldemort would finally be destroyed…

Well, that had been the plan.

Voldemort had cut his monologue surprisingly short and Harry, reeling from the unexpected script change, panicked when he heard Voldemort yell the killing curse, wand trained right on the nose-piece of Harry's glasses.

So right before the moment of no return, one syllable away actually, Harry yelled the first spell he could think of…it happened to be one that was from that dark arts text that he wasn't supposed to even know existed. Well, if it got the job done, who were they to complain? Right?

Right?

Voldemort's wand hit the ground and he disappeared from sight, the room fell silent. Harry closed his eyes in relief, ducking his head, when he opened them a few moments later he remembered what the spell did.

The living furniture curse, Harry believed it was called. The spell transfigured the victim or fully deserving party into an animated piece of furniture, they still had their brain function…it was just trapped in a piece of furniture.

Or in this case, a rather small, leather ottoman, Voldemort's mind was currently trapped in an ottoman and he didn't seem to realize it because he was still waving one leg around as though he were holding a wand.

Someone began snickering, Harry glanced to see who it was and was surprised to see it was Snape…but he supposed if anyone deserved a laugh at the Dark Lord Ottoman's expense it would be Snape.

The silence still reigned despite Snape's laughter and Harry decided he should break the silence:

"Gives new meaning to 'shake a leg,' huh?"

Snape lapsed into full-blown laughter.

Harry had walked forward and picked up the outraged and confused ottoman and tucked it under his arm, flashing the Inner Circle a grin, "I'll just take this off your hands. God knows, this is way too refined a piece for the décor here, right Voldemort?"

The legs began kicking fervently, one leg pointing at Lucius Malfoy furiously.

Harry also snatched Voldemort's wand from the floor which sent the ottoman into furious kicking and pointing. Harry tucked it into his back pocket and looked around those gathered.

"Oh, god," Harry muttered, rubbing his chin, his wand propped lightly across his pinky and thumb, "I know I'm forgetting something…" Harry fixed his wand on the death eaters, "oh yeah—incendio!"

The battle was short lived, and the order came out on top, it seemed that Voldemort was the both the bark and the bite of his little club. And as said bite and bark was now a small footstool that happened to be trying to kick Harry in the side, there clearly wasn't much to be said about the former, wannabe evil, after-school project.

…of course, that's easy to say now…

Harry set about helping the aurors with taking all the former death eaters into custody, and once they were all lined and shackled up, Harry, with a furiously kicking and pointing ottoman tucked under his arm, looked them over.

"Well, kids," Harry sighed, in mock-disappointment, "sorry about busting your little organization…looks like you'll all have to join the chess club…of Azkaban."

A few aurors laughed mockingly, and began pushing the assembled prisoners out. When Harry thought of something else: "And don't worry Lucius! I'm sure you'll get voted head geek—I mean, club president!"

After that, Harry found himself being shuffled from press conference to press conference. Harry ended up hog-tying the ottoman and stuffing it under his chair in order to keep it from drawing attention to itself, after he realized the main question of the day was: "So You-Know-Who's really gone?!"

This tactic allowed Harry to smile brightly and give an empathic, resounding, "Yes, damnit! For the umpteenth time!" As he kicked the ottoman in order to keep it from getting any ideas.

Eventually, between venues, Harry had to tell Voldemort to behave or he would remove one of his legs.

Things went much more smoothly after that.

Later that night, Harry sat awake in his bed reading, making sure that Vol—Oswald wouldn't try to attack any of his dorm mates. It had only taken Oswald about five hours to realize that Harry was bigger, faster, and stronger than he—it?—was.

The little ottoman had taken to pacing the perimeter of the room, stopping when it reached Harry's bed, presumably to figure out a way to kill him or something. Harry had never realized how useful being able to turn paper into felt would be, until after he'd flipped the ottoman over onto it's leathery back and glued little felt circles onto the bottom of its legs to keep the clicking of the wood on stone from driving him completely insane.

Harry looked down from his book and gave the ottoman an assessing look before declaring, "You know for being such an ugly shit when you were alive, you have some pretty nice upholstery."

The ottoman hid itself under his bed.

Harry decided it was up to something, but really…it was an ottoman.

And thanks bunches to everyone that reviewed, I wasn't expecting such a strong positive response!