Chapter One: Items Three, Four, and Five

Harry Potter groaned as he slowly woke from his slumber. His head throbbed in tune with his heartbeat, and he curled into a ball and held his head in his hands to try to soothe the ache. A few choice words that would have even Ron blushing escaped under his breath at the sharp pain.

"Erg…" he complained to no one in particular. "What hit me?"

"I see you are awake," said a voice above him.

Harry looked up to see Lucius Malfoy standing above him. Looking around at his surroundings, Harry noticed that he was in what appeared to be a small cell in a dank sort of dungeons. Not in Hogwarts, of course, because that would just be silly. Plus, there were no cells in Hogwarts.

… He hoped.

The stone beneath him was smooth and cold, but dirty all the same. I'll have to do the wash, thought Harry as he ran a hand through his hair. There was something sticky at the back, and when he pulled his hand away it was covered in his blood. Harry grimaced at the sight and wiped his hand on his robes when Lucius cleared his throat to get his attention. Harry hid a mischievous grin at a sudden thought.

"I would like a phone call, please," Harry asked, cutting off whatever snide remark the older man was about to throw at him.

Lucius shut his mouth with a sharp click and stared down at Harry, his pale eyes wide. "A… A what?"

"A phone call," Harry repeated, struggling to hide his grin at the speechless man before him. "You know, I'd like to ring someone? Don't I get a phone call? They all do in the movies and on the telly."

"I don't-" Lucius seemed to know better and cut himself off. "I suppose that is some infernal muggle contraption?" he spat out, as if it were a piece of broccoli. Or spinach, Harry amended to himself. Spinach is gross. Who likes spinach anyway?

So, Harry nodded with an innocent smile. "Of course it is. Now, I would like a phone call. Don't make me ask again."

"You are in no position to demand anything, Potter," Lucius spat out.

Harry wiped the spittle from his face and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I see," he hissed dangerously. "Then I demand to speak with your supervisor!"

"My… supervisor…?"

"Yes," said Harry pompously, rising from his position on the floor so he would not be looking up at Lucius Malfoy from the dirty ground. No need to get any dirtier than he already was, he reasoned. "Your supervisor. The one in charge. The head commander. The chief executive. Mister Boss Man. Need I continue?"

Lucius sneered down at Harry. "No."

"So are you going to go get him?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Are you really arguing with your captive?"

"Yes."

"…"

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Harry lowered his eyebrow and frowned. "You said yes."

"Yes…" Lucius was afraid to see where this would lead him.

"Soooo…"

"'So…'?"

"Why aren't you getting the head honcho?"

"The what?"

"We just went through this."

"…"

"We really did."

"…"

"Don't make me repeat myself," Harry said, raising his eyebrow again. When Mr. Malfoy Sr. did not respond, he said, "Death Eaters these days, I swear. Look, I know you've met him. Rather a mean and ugly blighter, if you ask me." Harry continued to mutter obscenities about the Leader of the Dark Side © under his breath.

"I will just… go get him, then," Lucius muttered, backing slowly out of the cell so he could keep an eye on the insane child before him. He was halfway down the hall when he realized what had just happened. He spun around to give the brat a piece of his mind only to see the boy lounging lazily against the bars, watching him with eerily glowing green eyes.

He uncrossed one arm and made a shooing motion with his hand. "Shoo, shoo," he said in a mocking tone. "Time's a-wastin'!"

"I-"

"Don't make me tell Voldemort on you."

Lucius scurried off to the sound of Harry scoffing behind the bars of his tiny cell.

Ten minutes later Voldemort and Lucius finally descended into the dungeons. Harry straightened when he heard their echoing footsteps but frowned when they drew near.

"I thought I told you to grab your supervisor."

"I did."

Harry looked the seething Voldemort up and down, screwing his face up as he scrutinized the man. He knew he was more than just toeing the line- he had pretty much jumped over it and was waving the Red Cape of Death at the angry bull that was Voldemort, who was ready to skewer him (or strangle him with his bare hands, whichever happened first, but that is for another metaphor that Harry could not think of at the time)- but he was having too much fun.

"I don't-" Harry interrupted himself, petting his nonexistent beard in contemplation. "I would like to speak with your supervisor. I demand a phone call."

Voldemort was audibly seething at this point. "I am the supervisor. I-"

"Then where are your credentials?" Harry asked, rudely interrupting his elder. "I need proof before I speak with you." He turned to Lucius. "I need to see yours, too. So I know you have the right to keep me hostage here. Er…" He looked around his cell. "Wherever here is…"

"Potter-"

"That's how it is on the telly," Harry said childishly as he rocked back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels and back again in a picture-perfect imitation of innocence. "And everyone knows that what they put on the television is the truth."

Lucius and Voldemort shared a confused look.

"Uhm…"

"Well…"

They said inelegantly. Harry hid a snicker behind his innocent mask.

"So you should let me go if you don't have the proper credentials!" piped Harry.

"I- Well… But-"

"You have to do things properly, don't you?" Harry asked, looking through his lashes at the two older men. "You want to be a good proper dark lord, yes?"

"Yes…"

"Then you have to get the credentials," Harry told him seriously. "I don't know why you didn't know this before."

"Oh…"

Harry grinned as he landed outside the gates of Hogwarts.

He had some new ideas for his list.

Heheh, SUCKERS! he thought as he made his way to go tell his best friends about his day.

He was looking forward to the next time he would get kidnapped.