Disclaimer: Nope, unfortunately I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the other characters in the series. I also don’t own Agony Aunt columns in general, but I do, however, own ‘Dear Dumby’. I also do not own ‘Hugsy’, he belongs to Joey from Friends. For now, anyway…….

---

“What’s everyone crowding round?” Harry Potter asked his best friend, Ron Weasley, when he saw that everybody in the Gryffindor common room seemed absorbed in something on the notice board, all of them jumping and pushing to get a closer look. Everyone apart from Ron that is, who was just sitting on an armchair by the fire, scowling venomously at an blank piece of parchment.

“Dunno,” Ron replied uselessly, looking up from the apparently enthralling piece of parchment. “Maybe we should ask Hermione, she’ll know.” Harry nodded.

“Where is Hermione?” Harry asked, after looking closely for her bushy brown hair amongst the crowd of people.

“Dunno,” Ron replied, uselessly.

“Maybe we should go up there and actually look for ourselves at what’s going on?” Harry suggested, but immediately regretted it when he saw the look on Ron’s face.

"Harry, are you joking? Quidditch practice was murder today - is it always so harsh, or was everyone purposely trying to replace my head with a Bludger because it was my first practice? I don't think I can move for about another two weeks at least," Ron declared, stretching out on the armchair.

“Well I'm not going!” Harry said, grimacing at the memory of practice. “In case you've forgotten, I was at that practice too - you think you had it hard, at least you've got things you can see flying at you! The wind nearly blew my glasses off, causing me to have to fly down blindly and catch them without really being able to see them, and more often then not flying into something else, such as the Bludger that was about to replace your head! I'm not going," Harry finished stubbornly, sitting back in his chair as if to prove his point.

"Well I'm not going - you go, go on Harry, it will do you good."

"No! You know, I don't think this is getting us any closer to finding out what's on that notice. If neither of us is going then we're not going to know what it says until Hermione turns up, as she doesn't have Quidditch practice so she'll be able to get up and look," Harry explained, half forgetting what his point was in the process.

"It's Hermione, she'll probably know already," Ron pointed out. "But who knows how long it will take until she gets down here? Can't you go and see what it is now?" Ron whined hopefully.

"No! Well then, it seems that neither of us will get up to look, so we'll both just stay sitting down and we'll guess what it might be till Hermione turns up then,” Harry said with more than a trace of sarcasm. But Ron rather took to the idea, and before long Harry found himself getting happily involved as well.

So Harry sat down and they bounced ideas around, which ranged from there being another Ball (“No! It was enough trouble last time! I don’t think there could be another one with me still alive at the end of it!” Ron looked positively sick at the mere prospect), to there being a Hogsmeade trip (“Nah, to boring,” Harry commented. “You couldn’t make a decent story out of that”.) They then considered, rather optimistically, that the teachers might have decided that they’d had enough work, and were cancelling all exams (“That‘s why Hermione‘s not here then! She‘s probably gone to complain!” Ron joked), which evolved to Snape having been eaten by the Giant Squid (Ron got particularly excited about this one, they had double Potions next and he hadn‘t finished his homework. The blank piece of parchment he had been glaring at earlier apparently was Ron’s Potions homework).

In the middle of Harry and Ron having gotten slightly sidetracked by making up more gruesome and elaborate deaths for Snape, Hermione appeared.

“Hey, Hermione!” Ron called, beckoning her over as he saw her appear down the stairs from the girls dormitories. She smiled when she saw Ron wave, and made her way over to them.

“What’s that?” Hermione asked, gesturing towards the empty piece of parchment now lying forgotten on the table in front of Ron.

“Nothing, unfortunately.” Ron replied, glaring daggers at it. “But never mind that, do you know what everyone’s looking at?”

“Yes.” Hermione answered, sitting down next to them and re-reading her Potions essay. The boys looked at each other, exchanging frustrated glances.

“Well? Aren’t you gonna tell us what it is?” Ron demanded impatiently. Hermione looked quite amused as she put her essay back into her back and met both the boys’ impatient gazes.

“So, do you mean to tell me that you’ve been waiting here all this time for me to come down and tell you what it is, rather then going up to look for yourselves, which would have been a lot quicker and easier?”

“Well, it seemed like a stupid idea at the time…” Harry said, looking sheepish. Hermione laughed, but took pity on them, put down her essay and explained.

“Well, Dumbledore’s decided that as so many people seem to need his help, and he really doesn’t have time to see and help them all individually, so he’s started an advice column, where people can write into him with their problems anonymously, and he’ll publish a weekly column answering them. Sort of like an Agony Aunt. And,” Hermione continued, trying to stifle a giggle, ”he’s decided to call it, ‘Dear Dumby’.” Harry and Ron exchanged glances again.

“Well, I suppose we could use help once in a while…” Ron observed, trailing off into thought.

“Yeah, we do seem to have a lot of problems around here,” Harry noted, thinking back through his years at Hogwarts.

“Yeah, like never finishing homework!” Ron complained, looking gloomily down at the empty piece of parchment in front of him. “And girls,“ he added, looking over at the sound of Parvati and Lavender giggling in a corner. Harry noticed Hermione scowl, and eager to avoid another argument, quickly spoke up.

“Yeah, and having evil wizards bent on world domination trying to kill us…” For a moment, they all adapted vapid looks, thinking about something that they could write to ’Dear Dumby’ about.

“Hey!” Ron suddenly looked excited. “We can find out about everyone’s problems and stuff with this! Like, we could find out that Malfoy still sucks his thumb and sleeps with a teddy bear named Hugsy!”

“No Ron, that’s just you mate!” Harry laughed, ignoring Ron’s glare.

“We can’t do that anyway, all the letters are anonymous, people just sign them with “Troubled” or something,” Hermione explained, caught between wanting to laugh at the thought of either Malfoy or Ron sucking their thumbs and sleeping with a teddy bear named Hugsy, and looking disapprovingly at Ron for thinking about ways to humiliate people. “Wow!” she exclaimed, suddenly realizing something.

“What?” Both Ron and Harry asked, Ron looking up from his still empty parchment, and Harry looking up from the space on the wall that he’d been staring at.

“This has got to be the first time ever that Ron hasn’t been the first one down for lunch! It’s been fifteen minutes since lunch started, and he hasn’t even mentioned it!” Hermione stated, laughing at the look of shock on Ron’s face.

“You're right Hermione," Ron told her sincerely, leaving Hermione looking a bit surprised. "You see what this stupid essay has drawn me to? If I don't get this finished, I might have to miss lunch altogether!" he wailed, looking appalled at the thought of having to go without food. "I might starve to death Hermione - I'll never get this essay finished - not without your help, anyway! Please, Hermione? Come on, do you really want my blood on your hands? If there's any left after I've wasted away..." Ron asked dramatically, putting his hand on his forehead and falling to the ground as if in a dead faint. "Hermione?" he opened his eyes from his dead faint to look around after receiving no response. "Harry?" Ron sat up to find his friends gone, laughing together down the corridor as they left for lunch.

Dislaimer: Nope, I don't own the Harry Potter books, or any of the characters in it. I also don't own the Harry Potter films, but I am going to see the 4th one soon!

A/N: Just want to say thanks to all my reviewers, and the mods for having this up so quickly! So thanks!

---

Dear Dumby - Issue 1

Dear Dumby,

I have this problem, and it’s been going on for a while now, well, all my life, practically. As it is, this problem is being very detrimental to my education, as I can’t get a decent nights sleep, and have to resort to sleeping in History of Magic (that’s a lot more painful, I get cramp in my neck and bruises on my arm from where Hermione keeps poking me to wake me up), and I keep having to skip exams and stuff to fight with this person. That’s what my problem is, I have this ongoing feud with a person (who has to remain nameless, for legal reasons and because, well, he‘s not supposed to be named). We just can’t seem to get along; he keeps trying to kill me, and I taunt him and try to avoid getting killed. But I feel that this has been going on long enough, and I’m rather tired of it. Do you have anything that could help me get along with him?

Thanks,

Fed Up of Avoiding Avada Kedavera

Dear Fed Up of Avoiding Avada Kedavera,

I am very sorry to hear you are having problems with this person, and I’m extremely upset that this is a hazard to your education. My advice for sleeping is counting Hippogriffs. As for your feud with that person, I suggest that you try and remember that everyone has some good, kindness, or sensitivity in them, even if you don’t see it. Why not try talking to this person instead of killing and taunting each other? See if you have any shared interests, or mutual friends. You might find you have more in common then you think!

Good luck and best wishes,

Dumby



Dear Dumby,

Yesterday in Potions, something terrible happened. I was just sitting there, not causing any harm, minding my own buisness, just grinding my salamander scales whilst trying to ignore the smell of damp there is down in the dungeons (do you think you could get someone to clean that place once in a while?), when all of a sudden, it happened. I broke a nail. It was so unexpected! I just wasn’t prepared! It looks horrendous! Now I can’t use my right hand at all, as everyone will see that my nails are uneven, and it’s really difficult doing everything one-handed. Especially doing everything left-handed, as I’m right-handed. Also, I have developed a peculiar fear of pestles. So do you have any nail re-growth spells or general help for me?

Love,

Traumatised

Dear Traumatised,

I am very sorry to hear of your unfortunate mishap, although I hope this won’t put you off involving yourself in Potions fully in the future. Maybe you should concentrate more on the task at hand than the general décor of the classroom? Although you do have a good point about the damp, I will try and make sure it is cleaned soon. I’m very sorry, but I don’t recall any nail re-growth spells, but you could try the library, or failing that, Hermione Granger. If you can’t find a nail re-growth spell, you could always try breaking all your other nails to match, and call it a fashion statement. Or you could wear gloves.

I hope this helps, and that you recover from the emotional upheaval that you have encountered,

Dumby



Dear Dumby,

I, I mean, my friend, has this huge problem that I, I mean, my friend, can’t ask anyone about, as that would mean not only would I, I mean, my friend, have to admit to whoever I, I mean, they, told about this huge problem, I’d, I mean, they’d, have to admit to myself. I mean, himself. But, they did tell me, obviously, as I’m writing this, so…they did admit it to themselves…but…they’re in denial! And I’m writing this instead of my friend, because…my friend can’t write, because…of…a…a thing!

Anyway, I, I mean, my friend, has this friend, who’s a girl, and we’re, I mean, they’re, really close, but we fight all the time, about everything. And as I kind of, maybe, sort of, might like her as more than just a friend. Maybe. I mean, my friend might kind of, maybe, sort of, might like her as more than just a friend. Maybe.

What should I do to stop fighting with her (and maybe ask her out)?

Confused

P.S. Do you think you could help me, I mean, my friend, no wait, I mean me, with my Potions homework? I’ve already don’t ½ inch, so if you could do 6 ½ inches on the pros and cons of brewing a potent spell, that would be great.

Dear Confused,

Congratulations on (practically) admitting your, I mean, your friend’s, feelings for your, I mean your friend’s, friend. I’m sure it came as a great shock (do you think anyone else has guessed?). My advice on preventing arguments with this friend seems so obvious you may have overlooked it - be nice to her. Even if you, I mean, your friend, doesn’t agree with what she’s saying, just smile and nod. That should help in avoiding arguments (she can’t argue with you, I mean, your friend, for agreeing with her!) and the trouble you, I mean, your friend, would get into by getting into an argument. This could also help you with asking her out, if you’re really nice to her, perhaps she’ll get the hint and ask you - saving you the bother/torment/embarrassment of having to do it yourself! I mean, of course, your friend.

Good luck,

Dumby

P.S. No, sorry, I can’t help you with your Potions homework. Why do you think I hire someone else to teach it?



Dear Dumby,

I need help in disciplining rowdy students. Please can we reinstate the use of the chains in the dungeons? And whipping for severe misdemeanours? And some new curtains?

Cat - Lover 212

Dear Cat - Lover 212,

No. Lines, cleaning without magic and venturing into the Forbidden Forest to find irregular and possible dangerous creatures is fair enough punishment. I will think about the curtains though.

Dumby

Disclaimer: You know the drill - I’m not J.K. Rowling, I don’t own Harry Potter, etc. Do you have to keep rubbing it in?!

---

Harry dropped his toothbrush in exasperation, and looked up from the patch of floor he was scrubbing. For what seemed like the thousandth time, he cursed the uneven stones of the dungeon for being so hard to scrub. Whilst he dipped his toothbrush into the soap and decided to take a break from the floor and start on the walls, he noticed that Ron was being unusually quiet.

“Ron?” Ron, totally oblivious, just kept scrubbing at the desk. “Ron! If you scrub at that desk anymore, there won’t be any desk left to scrub! And seeing as that’s Snape’s desk, that’ll be another week of detention!” Ron blinked, as if awaking from a dream.

“What? Did you say something Harry? Are we done yet?” Harry sighed.

“No, Ron. What’s up with you? Something wrong?”

“Apart from the fact that we have detention with Snape, in which we have to scrub the whole of these ruddy dungeons clean, using only a toothbrush? I still don’t get why we have to use our own toothbrush…Anyway, apart from all that?” Ron said, looking slightly irked.

“Yeah!” Harry agreed enthusiastically. “Apart from that, and that we have to hand in the essay that we didn’t do today, by tomorrow’s lesson.” At this point, Ron stopped scrubbing the desk, and started banging his head against it instead. “Is anything else wrong?”

“Yeah.” Ron admitted, rubbing his head. Harry waited expectantly, rubbing at a suspicious looking dark mark on the wall he was currently scrubbing.

“Well? Aren’t you gonna tell me what it is?” Harry prompted, after Ron didn’t answer. Luckily for Ron, he was saved replying from the echoing footsteps approaching down the corridor, that could only belong to Snape. Both boys hurriedly got back to their toothbrushes.

“Well?” Snape sneered, as he surveyed the room. “Do you call this clean?” Ron, still in a daze, opened his mouth to answer, but Snape continued before giving him the opportunity. “It seems we have different standards. But if your essays are not up to my standard, you’ll be doing this all again, until you present me with an essay that is up to my standard, is that understood?” Both boys nodded an answer, then fled before he saw the dent in his desk.

Later that evening in the common room, Harry kicked back in his chair after throwing his quill down on the table ceremoniously.

“Well, that’s me done!” Harry exclaimed happily. Ron glared at him in the lamplight.

“Well I’m not! I’ve still got another 2 inches! Do you think Hermione will let me see hers tomorrow morning?” Ron asked, looking up hopefully, but he was brought back to reality by Harry’s cynical look. “All right, can I borrow your essay then?” Harry handed over his essay before starting his interrogation again.

“So what were you so pre-occupied with earlier?” he asked, examining Ron‘s expression closely.

“Oh, nothing,” Ron answered absently, turning over Harry’s sheet of parchment.

“Oh really? ‘Cause I heard Hermione say…” Harry grinned impishly as he watched Ron’s reaction with amusement, moving nearer to the fire.

“What? What did Hermione say? Was it about me? Was it good? Not that I care…obviously. I don’t care what Hermione thinks, why should I? Who said anything about Hermione anyway?” Ron said, trying to regain his composure, which was slightly spoiled by the fact that he had stabbed himself with the leg of the table he had upset at the mention of Hermione’s name. He continued to stare at Harry as he tried to set everything back up, forcing him to answer.

“Oh, nothing!” Harry admitted innocently. “It’s just that it seemed to me that you were thinking of something other than scrubbing the dungeons. Or someone…”

“I wasn’t thinking about Hermione! I was thinking about…something other than Hermione! I do not like Hermione! In fact, you brought her up Harry, you know, you’re always bringing up Hermione, do you have a thing for her or something?” Ron jabbered at rapid speed, suddenly becoming increasingly absorbed in his shoes.

Harry sighed in exasperation. Was it really possible for someone to be even stupider than Goyle looked? Obviously.

“No Ron, I don’t fancy Hermione! But I think I know someone who does…”

“What?” Ron yelped in a strangled voice. Harry shook his head, picked up his essay and started up the stairs to the boys dormitories, with Ron tailing him closely behind.

“Who? Come on Harry, you can tell me! Does she like him? Is it Dean? It’s Neville, isn‘t it? Oh, Merlin, it’s not Malfoy is it? Are they going out? What has she said? What has he said? Is he going to ask her out? Is it Smith? What about …”

---

“Morning!” Hermione greeted the boys brightly. Through their bleary eyes, both Harry and Ron glared at her.

During Potions, Harry noticed that people were behaving rather oddly. He presumed that this was either because they had all accidentally swallowed their Potion, which, naturally, wasn’t brewed correctly, or they had all read the first edition of 'Dear Dumby’, which had come out the night before.

Harry was able to come to these conclusions because he could actually hear himself think. The reason for that was, for once, Ron and Hermione weren’t arguing. She seemed to be saying something, and Ron was nodding his head in agreement. Harry was in shock, but luckily for him it didn’t last for long as Hermione proceeded to hit Ron over the head, but instead of retorting, Ron laughed. Harry didn’t have time to dwell on this, or the notice Hermione laugh back, or even see them get detention for “laughing and general merriment” (Hermione really did hit Ron then), as he saw Snape’s shadow looming ominously over him. He dared to look up, and saw that Snape’s hand was held out in front of him. Harry reluctantly handed over his essay, and gulped as he saw Snape smile. That couldn’t be a good sign.

---

At lunch, Harry noticed more odd happenings. Lavender Brown seemed to be having trouble picking up her fork, and had an even harder time trying to spear a sprout with it. Harry wondered why she didn’t just use her right hand, but then he saw why, as she reached out for her glass. She was wearing a particularly unique glove, that Harry thought might belong to Luna Lovegood. She also seemed to be murmuring, something about evil pestles being the weapon of choice for taking over the world.

Harry wisely decided to ignore this (though he made a mental note not to mention it to Voldemort), and turned back towards his two best friends, but it seemed that the truce was over.

“I can’t believe you!” Hermione cried, glaring ferociously at Ron.

“What? I don’t get it…” Ron replied uselessly, looking extremely bewildered.

“That’s just it! You never get it!” Hermione yelled in frustration, getting up abruptly as she stormed out of the Great Hall.

“Well?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Well what?” Ron stabbed his fork viciously onto his plate. “I didn’t do anything wrong…I don’t think.”

“What exactly did you say?” Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

“Nothing!” Ron replied defensively. “I just asked her if she maybe, sorta wanted to hang out with me after dinner…” Harry smiled as he noticed that Ron’s ears were going gradually redder with every word. “…to help me with my Herbology homework.” Harry’s smile disappeared as he fell forward and started banging his head repeatedly on the table. Although, Harry thought in hindsight, it might have worked better if he’d cleared his plate first.

“Why? Why?” Harry cried as he wiped the mashed potato from his forehead.

“Well…” Here Harry noticed that at least Ron looked somewhat sheepish. “I got scared that she’d think it was, well, you know,”

“A date?” Harry interrupted, grinning as he saw Ron’s ears turn a whole new shade of crimson. “Isn’t that what you wanted anyway?”

“Mumph,” Ron muttered incoherently. “Yeah, and that she’d say no, so then I just added on that it would be homework, so it would be, less awkward.”

“Yeah, nice plan Ron.“ Harry said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Ron merely grunted again and concentrated on devouring his food. “’Cause now it won’t be awkward at all, will it?”

“I dunno Harry, these pea‘s are hard to spear, but I wouldn‘t call them awkward…” Ron broke off to see Harry banging his head on the table once more.

A/N:Thanks to my reviewers, you're all great! Special mention and credit to atkarid who came up with the idea of having a ghost write in!

---

Dear Dumby,

I have a really big problem, that’s actually been unresolved for a while. You see, there’s this guy that I really like, but I don’t think he like’s me as anything more than just a friend. For instance, today, I thought he was going to ask me out, but he was only asking me to help with his homework. That’s all I am to him, a study aid. You know, I don’t even know why I like him. He’s insensitive, annoying, never finishes his homework and always expects me to do it for him, argumentative (but only with me), protective, funny, sweet …what was I saying?

Oh yeah, please can you help me get him to notice me?

Thanks,

Tired of Being Ignored

Dear Tired of Being Ignored,

I’m very sorry to hear of your problems with this boy (you know, this reminds me of something…but for the love of Merlin I can’t think what). Are you certain he doesn’t like you like that?

My advice would be for you to put into play the most foolproof plan - make him jealous. It works (practically) every time! Whether it’s to make him look at you in a whole new light, force out feelings he already has or just watch his blood boil, jealousy always works! It works especially well if you put on public displays of affection with someone he dislikes right in front of him!

Hope it all works out for you!

Dumby

P.S. Please note that such actions are violating the student code of conduct in the corridor, classrooms and such places, so do expect to receive detention if you conduct yourself incorrectly (and get caught). But apart from that, good luck! (Also, you might like to bear in mind that sometimes it’s worth getting into trouble for some, more important things…? But don’t quote me on that.)



Dear Dumby,

Why do I have to write to you through this stupid thing anyway? I’m the Minister of Magic for Merlin’s sake! If I want to ask your opinion on something, I shouldn’t have to do it through one of your stupid schemes! Why can’t I just owl you normally? This is ridiculous!

Please help,

Minister of Magic

Dear Minister of Magic,

First of all, my advice for you would be not to insult someone and then ask for their help on the same piece of paper. You are not likely to get very far with that attitude! The reason that you have to write to me for help through my column is because that is what it’s there for! It’s an advice column - which people write to for advice. I have started this column, as previously mentioned, because so many people seem to need my help, I just don’t have time to help all of them individually, and you can’t have one rule for some people and a different rule for others (even if they are the Minister of Magic).

Incidentally, I’m not sure this letter had much point, as most of the things you asked I already explained on the notice. It is occurrences like this which waste my time, meaning that I cannot give my attention to people’s problems individually, which, ironically, you are complaining about.

If you would care to write back with an adequate problem, I would be happy to answer it, more than happy, if you did not insult myself or the system.

Dumby

P.S. You might want to sign your letters a tad more discreetly in future.



Dear Dumby,

I have a problem. My friend - no, leader, takes me for granted. He’s always telling me I’m studid - no, stupid. Just because I fail all my classes! The thing is, I don’t just want to be a sidekick, I wanna be a person! But he won’t listen to me, and my other friend, his other sidekick, really is studi - stupid, so he doesn’t understand what I’m talking about, and just grunts. What should I do?

Slytherin Stud’s Supporter

Dear Slytherin Stud’s Supporter,

It sound’s like you have some unresolved conflict with your “leader”. Are you sure you should even have a leader? What’s wrong with just having friends? Try standing up for yourself for once, and just get your more mentally challenged friend to nod along. Next time you’re “leader” says something you don’t agree with, tell him! Don’t worry if it doesn’t work out, you’ll find new friends, and Madam Pomfrey is very good at healing all sorts of injuries, muggle combat or magically inflicted!

Good Luck!

Dumby

Dear Dumby,

Can I have the Defence Against the Dark Arts position? Please? Pretty please? With a cherry on top? Come on, you know I can’t be any worse than any of the others - a guy with the Dark Lord on the back of his head, and wore a turban (which totally clashed with his robes), an idiot, who (now) can’t remember to pull up his own trousers, a werewolf and a lunatic Death Eater pretending to be an eccentric paranoid ex-Auror. Need I go on? So, please, please, please, please, please, can I have a go this year? I really think it’s my turn now.

Dark Arts Addict

Dear Dark Arts Addict,

If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times; No. Please, take the hint. Your time will come, don’t worry, just…I don’t know, wait for the opportune moment or something. Be happy with what you’ve got! Besides, what’ll we do with the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve already hired for this year? Feed them to ferocious creatures in the Forbidden Forest?! Why don’t you take up a new hobby - like stamp collecting? Or crossword puzzles? Or freestyle water skiing? Something to take your mind of it (as it does seem to be irritating you slightly). How about Scrabble? Everybody likes Scrabble!

I hope you do well with your chosen new venture, I’ll review your application next year if you’re still interested (but don’t count on it - er, I mean, as you may be so engrossed in your new hobby!)

Dumby



Dear Dumby,

I feel very misunderstood. I’ve been dreadfully typecast, and to be honest, the real me is nothing like what everyone imagines! Everybody presumes that just because I may look ’scary’ I must be an extremely formidable being, who should be avoided at all costs! But I shouldn’t! It’s awfully lonely being avoided. Also, people don’t take into account the fact that there isn’t a dry cleaning service for 'other beings’. And someone has to keep Peeves in line! That doesn’t make me a bad, er, being!

How can I get people to see past my frosty - no, bloody, exterior?

Misinterpreted

Dear Misinterpreted,

I’m very sorry that you feel so misunderstood and ignored. Maybe this has something to do with your general attitude towards others? Why don’t you see if you can make yourself a bit more presentable, and involve yourself in some acts of niceness that could change others’ opinion of you? Try not to be so negative, don’t reprimand others, encourage them, or you could just hand out sweets.

Good Luck!

Dumby

---

A/N: Sorry to The Ghoul In The Attic, I said I’d have something from Neville in this chapter, but I realised it would work much better in the next edition of Dear Dumby. So, sorry! But don’t worry, he’ll definitely be in Chapter 6!

“What’s she doing? Move over Harry, I can’t see!” Came Ron’s impatient whisper. Harry groaned, for what seemed the thousandth time that lesson.

“Most probably her Potion, Ron!” Harry said exasperatedly. “Like we should be doing…come on, especially as Snape’s in an even worse mood than usual.”

“What?” Ron interrupted.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it was possible either,” Harry agreed, stealing a glance at Snape who was glaring at…well, everybody.

“No, not that! I’m talking about Hermione!” Ron explained, as he peered over Harry’s shoulder again to get a better view. Unfortunately for him, Hermione saw him staring, and gave him a very strange look before turning back to her cauldron.

“When are you not?” Harry said in an undertone. “I wouldn’t worry about it Ron,” he continued at a regular level. “She works with other people all the time, and besides, Dean’s going out with Parvati.” He added in a reassuring voice as he added three more newt eyes.

“Look! She’s laughing!” Harry rolled his eyes, and tried to turn their potion from something resembling slug slime to the red solution they were meant to have. “Didn’t you hear them this morning? They were having this huge argument, I wouldn’t be surprised if they split up. Then Dean will make his move on Hermione!”

“Do you think food colouring would work?” Harry asked, choosing to ignore Ron’s hysteria and concentrate on the class work. “Well? Ron? Ron?”

But Ron had already charged over to Hermione’s table, oblivious to the looks he was getting across the room. Harry groaned, but resisted the urge to bang his head on the table again, he already had one scar, he didn’t particularly want another one.

“Hey, Hermione, have you got, um, a spare quill you can lend me?” Hermione looked slightly disgruntled, but looked through her bag begrudgingly.

“No, sorry Ron, I must have left them up in my dorm. Where’s yours?” She inquired, stirring her potion, which Ron was annoyed to see, was a perfect red solution.

“I threw it at Malfoy,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders at Dean’s laughter, which nearly caused him to tip over their perfect potion.

“Why?” Hermione asked in disbelief as she hurried to straighten out the cauldron.

“Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time…” Ron trailed off to the sound of Dean’s sniggers.

“Here, I might have one mate,” offered Dean. Harry, who had since given up on their potion, found this rather amusing, seeing as this put Ron in the same predicament that he had been in when he had to accept help from Cedric in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He could practically see the battle going on inside Ron’s head.

“Nah, that’s alright, I’ll just ask…Snape!” At this, both Hermione and Dean gave him very odd looks, but Ron was saved explaining, by Snape barking at them to bottle up their solutions as he would be going round to inspect them. Harry had extreme difficulty in prising their slime away from the cauldron, although he managed it eventually.

“P, P, P, P, D,” Snape spat out spitefully, backing away from Neville and Seamus’ ominous smelling black gunge. “Ah, Draco. P+, P, P,” he carried on. At last he reached Harry and Ron’s desk. “D-,” he smiled maliciously. “Right, copy the homework down from the board. What Weasley?”

“Please can I borrow a quill, Sir?” Ron virtually wilted under his glare.

“What do you think this is, Christmas?” Snape snapped sarcastically. This caused quite a confusion over on the Slytherin side of the dungeon.

“No it isn’t,” Goyle muttered. “Is it? 30 days in September, April, June and - “

“Shut up Goyle, don’t be such an idiot,” Malfoy said scornfully.

“Hang on Draco, I don’t agree with that!” Crabbe said, slowly, trying to remember the response from Dear Dumby. Draco looked at him in disbelief. “You shouldn’t just, just,” Crabbe paused, thinking. This took a while, so Malfoy had moved on to clearing away. “You shouldn’t just put me and Goyle down, just because we’re studi - stupid.” He announced triumphantly.

“Are you still going on about - whatever? Listen Crabbe, if you don’t like it, you can go be someone else’s sidekick.” Draco didn’t notice Crabbe’s glower, as he edged away over to Millicent Bulstrode…

---

“Dear Viktor,” Hermione dictated out loud in the common room. Harry rolled his eyes, but Ron appeared to be taking it quite well, and seemed to be immersed in ‘Hogwarts a History’. Harry personally would have found it more convincing if it had been a different book, and if it had been the right way up. Though he wasn’t altogether surprised, it seemed as if all day Hermione had been trying to provoke Ron, but he had so far avoided rising to the bait, and he had been unconditionally pleasant tempered. Although this made Harry’s life a lot easier, he wasn’t sure how healthy it was, besides, Harry found it all quite unnerving.

This went on for a while, Hermione making comments on Viktor and her letter, and Ron resolutely ignoring them, until Hermione’s ringing laughter brought Ron out of his reserve, and he looked up at the source of the noise.

“What?” he asked in what was clearly meant to be a light tone, but sounded more gruff than anything else, as if he’d swallowed another slug.

“Oh, nothing,” replied Hermione in a more convincing fake airy tone. “Just something Viktor said. He can be so funny sometimes!” Harry noted that Ron only emitted a small grunt in response. “Do you think I should sign it ‘Love Hermione’ or ‘Lots of Love Hermione’ ?” At this Ron spluttered, and Harry thought he saw a flicker of a smile on Hermione’s face, but it instantaneously disappeared after Ron’s reply.

“I’m not sure Vick - tor,” Ron spoke his name with great difficulty, “will mind either way.” At this, Hermione looked rather annoyed, and announced she was going to bed. As soon as she was gone, Ron punched the cushion he was leaning on violently. Harry raised his eyebrows at him, though not entirely surprised. “What?” He asked indignantly. “I was being nice!”

“Hang on a minute Ron, is your lip bleeding or something?” Harry noticed a few drops of red (the colour their potion should have been) seeping out of the corner of Ron’s mouth.

“I don’t think so…no, it’s only my tongue!” Ron explained, fairly cheerfully. “Must have been from biting it.”

Madam Pomfrey concluded that it was indeed from biting it, and had Ron been trying to stop himself talking for some reason? Harry thought he might just know the reason…

---

“Urgh, I just don’t know what to do Lavender!” Parvati wailed at her friend, who was just entering the room. “I mean, Dean’s just being so insensitive! Can you believe he didn’t comment on my new dress robes?” Lavender shook her head. “What do you think I should do?”

“I’m not sure,” Lavender said sympathetically. “But here’s something that might help.” Lavender threw the latest edition of 'Dear Dumby’ onto Parvati’s bed as she began to leaf through it.

“Yes!” She exclaimed suddenly, upsetting Lavender’s nail polish in the process. “It’s perfect! It says here, ’jealousy, whether its…to force out feeling’s he already has’. Yes! So if I make Dean jealous, it should force out his feelings on my new dress robes!” Parvati beamed.

“Well, if that’s what it says…” Lavender contemplated. “But who could you use to make him jealous…?”

---

A/N: Ooh, who do you think Parvati will use to make Dean jealous? Will Ron and Hermione ever come out of denial? Will the Slytherin trio be broken up? And will Goyle ever figure out what time of year it is? Well...probably not. Oh well! Hope you enjoyed it!

A/N 2: Check out my new fic - Tragedies, Tears and Black Velvet Boxes. It's in the Ron/Hermione section and I'd really like all of your opinions of it, as it's quite different from this!! Thanks!!

---

Dear Dumby,

I really need your help - I think my Snargaluff plant sort of…ate my roommates wardrobe. I don’t want to go to Professor Sprout, as Herbology is the only thing I’m really good at, and I want to prove that I can do this on my own. With your help, naturally. I’m not quite sure how this happened as I left the room as usual for dinner, and when I came back, the wardrobe was gone and my plant burped! My Snargaluff was just sitting there, next to it, with a satisfied look on it’s face, and it did seem more engorged than usual. I tried to fish it out, but I all I got was one mouldy maroon sock and a lot of slime.
Please help, and preferably quickly, for although my roommate isn’t that observant, I’m afraid he might start to notice soon!

Thanks,
HerbsRox05

Dear HerbsRox05,

Oh dear, this does sound difficult. I wasn’t aware that a Snargaluff plant could consume something as large as a wardrobe! Perhaps you should consider entering it in for a competition of some sort?
But back to the problem at hand, I can quite understand your reluctance to go to Professor Sprout, and wanting to prove yourself, etc. Also, going to an authority would mean you having to admit to your roommate that your plant ate his wardrobe (how exactly have managed to keep him from noticing so far?).
I suggest that you make absolutely sure that the Snargaluff really did eat the wardrobe, and if it did, you may have to resort to dissecting the plant. If you are unwilling to do that, take into consideration as to whether your roommate really needs his wardrobe?
If all other attempts fail, I suggest that you go to a member of staff (or perhaps Hermione Granger), but only as a last resort. See if you can handle it by yourself first!

Good Luck,
Dumby



Dear Dumby,

Fine. My problem is that I brought this seriously cool chair from a Muggle shop, on which the seat goes up and down! It’s revolutionary! The problem is, I somehow made it go really far down, and now I can’t work out how to make it go back up again! And I look quite silly with my head three centimetres below my desk. Can you help me to put it back up again?

Sincerely,
Vote Fudge for Another Term as Minister


Dear Vote Fudge for Another Term as Minister,

I suggest that you take a look at the underside of the chair, to see if there is a lever or button that you have to press. If you find one, press it, and see if the chair returns to it’s original height. If it doesn’t, you could take it back to the shop which you brought it from and demand a refund/demonstration.
Whatever you do, don’t bother to look at the instruction manual. They never have anything useful in them, in fact, the only thing they are useful for is using as fire kindling.

Hope this helps,
Dumby
P.S. This may sound rather stupid/extreme, but have you considered using magic to make the chair go higher?
P.P.S. You might still want to work on your subtlety.



Dear Dumby,

I need your help. I’m getting really tired of being overshadowed by all my family. It’s like no-one can ever notice me for who I am. Or if they finally do, my family all scare them away! I really want to be an individual, and make my family back off a bit and just let me be me. What can I do to make people notice me as myself, someone other than just another family member? And make my family do the same thing?

Thanks,
Unique Wannabe

Dear Unique Wannabe,

I completely understand your predicament! I remember a similar time when my brother Aberforth decided he wanted to break away from the stereotype part as my brother. Now, he did this by furthering an interest in goats, but you may wish to go in different direction than that. Although it is an idea; why not pursue a new hobby? There are many activities you could further, such as Gobstones or Divination. Also, you could consider a new look, that makes you stand out, from not only your family, but everyone else as well! You could explore new areas in fashion, activities and attitude!

I hope that you manage to find yourself, and that everyone else finds you too!
Dumby



Dear Dumby,

I am with…security. I was wondering what methods you have in place to keep out intruders/evil overlords and how you could overcome these and get into the castle undetected. All for purely professional purposes, obviously. Are there any times when you are away from the castle, leaving it unguarded? Not that I, personally, care, or anything. I’m only doing my job you understand. I’m not plotting anything, apart from how to get a promotion! I have a big…presentation coming up, and I’m really keen on making it big in…security.
So any information that you have on security in the castle, and when it’s unguarded, etc., would be a great help.

Sincerely,
Lovely Man, Very Definitely, Really, Obviously, Opposed To Evil

Dear Lovely Man, Very Definitely, Really, Obviously Opposed To Evil,

Congratulations on being with a security company. I am very sorry, it would be inadvisable for me to explain all of our security methods to you, just in case you happened to be an evil dark lord of some sort hell bent on world domination and killing one in particular of our students (ha ha! As if a lovely security man such as yourself would be such a thing! Ridiculous, I know! But you can never be too careful with these anonymous letters, as you well know, being in security.).
For your presentation, I would suggest being completely original, maybe looking at other famous escape artists, etc., for inspiration. Can you think of anyone famous who managed to get in and out of houses multiple times with out ever getting caught?

I wish you luck with your presentation and hopefully achieve your promotion,
Dumby

---

A/N: Especially for The Ghoul In The Attic and Lilypudding, as I received numerous pleas and threats from them to include Neville!! (He‘ll also be in the next chapter too, so be happy!!)

A/N: Many thanks to songbook99 for betaing!!

---

Behind the tallest bookshelf, Harry heard the furious scratching of a quill which could only be Hermione’s. He ventured forward through the three layers of dust collecting on the shelf, and, sneezing slightly, he made his way through to Hermione, who barely glanced at him before diving her head back into her parchment.

“Hey,” greeted Harry a little uncertainly. “Um…rock cake?”

“Thanks. Been down to see Hagrid then?” Hermione asked, her head still immersed in her work. Harry thought he saw a tinge of red round her eyes, though it could have just been the dingy light in the library.

“Yeah. So, have you, um, heard about Ron?” Harry asked tentatively. An angry Hermione was not something he would wish for anyone to have to endure, except maybe Malfoy.

“Mmm-hmm,” she replied nonchalantly, although Harry noticed that the rock cake in her hand was being rapidly crushed into mulch.

“And you’re…okay with that?” he inquired timidly.

“Ok? OK?” Hermione asked, looking unusually bright-eyed. Harry ducked for cover, pulling a book from the shelf behind him and hiding behind it. “I’m fine! I’m better than fine!” Harry peeked nervously from behind the book. “I mean, why shouldn’t I be?”

“Um…” Harry started, unsure if this is one of those rhetorical questions that a person could get hit for answering. “I mean, I just thought you might, sorta, care that Ron was going out with Parvati…”

“Care?” Hermione said in an unusually high voice. “I don’t care.” Harry looked at her sceptically. “What? I didn’t stick that ’Hex Me’ sign on Parvati’s back…Alright, maybe I did!”

“I guess ‘care’ must have a different definition to what I thought then…” Harry muttered, but obviously not quietly enough as the book he was hiding behind suddenly exploded with slime…

---

Hermione walked down the corridor deep in thought after being thrown out of the library for ‘disturbing the peace‘. Who knew you weren’t allowed to hex people, and anything that happened to be in front of them, in the library? Hermione wondered. It’s all Ron’s fault…no, wait, it’s all Parvati’s fault!

“Hey look, it’s the Mudblood!” Hermione heard a voice from down the other end of the corridor. “Come on, Goyle, you must be able to think up an insult for that!”

“Um…” It turned out he could not, as Malfoy and Goyle walked down to her. Suddenly, Hermione was struck with an idea.

“Hey, Malfoy,” Hermione practically purred, leaning against the wall and twirling a stray strand of her hair. “Er, I mean, hey, Drac - no, there are some limits!” she cried, burying her head in her hands and virtually running away. Malfoy, meanwhile, shook his head in bewilderment.

“Those Mudbloods get stranger everyday…See, that’s what happens when you don’t insult them adequately!” Malfoy exclaimed in despair, glaring at Goyle who was completely oblivious, smiling at the shadow his shoelace made on the wall. “From now on, you can just laugh at what I say, ok?” Goyle laughed obediently. “Not now! Come on, let’s go find someone to bully,” Malfoy instructed, leading the still laughing Goyle away.

---

Harry was met by a myriad of bizarre people as he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. The least of whom was Luna Lovegood, which didn’t say much, especially as she was walking down the hall with only one glove on. When Harry asked her about it, she explained that Lavender still had her other one. When he asked why, she informed him that Lavender had ’Left-Handed Lurgy’. Obviously.

“So Lavender has to do everything left-handed.”

“Er, why?” Harry asked, though he regretted it a moment after. Luna gave him a look that plainly said ’Duh’.

“Because, it’s cool!”

Harry was interrupted from his musings on this by Ginny Weasley. Or at least, he thought it was Ginny. The girl walking towards him had customized her uniform so that there were chains hanging down, somewhat resembling the Bloody Baron, and had green streaks in her flaming red hair which had been styled so wildly that, if Harry hadn’t known there was one round every corner (and that it wasn’t unusual), he’d have sworn she’d seen a ghost.

“G-Ginny?” he asked in disbelief. Harry knew it was her when he saw her familiar grin flashing up at him.

“Hey, Harry, you alright?”

“Uh - Wha - I, yeah. Um, have you, er, done something to your hair?” Ginny scowled.

Oh no, Harry thought. Was that another of those rhetorical questions that a person could get hit for answering?

“Yes. My whole image in case you hadn’t noticed. But you’d be the only one who hasn’t.”

“Oh, er, yeah, I had noticed actually,” he admitted. Ginny scowled again. “But, er, why?”

“Well, you see, Jason dumped me after Ron jumped him in the Charms corridor and presented him with the list of things he would do to him if anything happened with me. I think he decided to dump me between items: (34) Turn him into the dog that has been disturbing Mrs. Norris and give him to Filch for Christmas, and (41) Use him as a test subject for Fred and George. He told me to call him if I ever ran away from home!” Ginny cried out over Harry’s hysterics. “But I’m not too keen on this look; I think I’ll go try something new. See you later, Harry,” Ginny called over her shoulder as she left Harry leaning on the wall for support.

But he wasn’t left alone for long.

“Ah, Potty. What a pleasant surprise.” Harry straightened up as he saw Malfoy and his cronies - minus one. Only Goyle was following Malfoy, which definitely didn’t look as menacing, especially as he tripped over...nothing.

“That’s a good one!” guffawed Goyle. It seemed with the absence of Crabbe, Goyle had to work overtime. To no effect.

“No, it’s not!” Harry shouted indignantly

“Hey, shut up!” Goyle complained. Malfoy groaned dejectedly.

“Ooh, now there’s a good come back. How long did it take you to come up with that one?” Harry asked, his voice oozing with sarcasm. He was quite enjoying the absence of Crabbe; it left him lots more openings in conversation.

“About two hours,” admitted Goyle, before Malfoy kicked him.

“I need Crabbe back,” said Malfoy miserably. “Wow, there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say!”

---

When Harry finally reached the common room, the strangeness did not end. He saw Parvati trying desperately to get what looked like green stick insects from out of her hair, although that proved to be difficult when the green stick insects turned out to be her hair. Harry also saw Hermione looking smug (which he was sure was completely coincidental…).

Not thinking he could take much more weirdness, Harry went up to his dormitory, where he saw Ron shuffling around the items on his bedside table. This was peculiar behaviour, even for Ron.

“Harry,” Ron started to explain, noticing Harry‘s curious glance as he threw a pair of sunglasses with one lens missing and a tattered page of what used to be his Care of Magical Creatures book over his shoulder. “I think I’ve lost…something!” Harry noticed that when Ron paused, searching his mind for whatever it was that he’d lost, Neville’s face whitened considerably.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Ron. If it was important, you’d have noticed it by now,” Harry reassured him, trying not to confuse his brain any further with the peculiar happenings that just seemed to get weirder and weirder…

“Harry! I need to talk to you!” Neville whispered in a very secretive manner, looking shiftily around. “Come down to the common room, where hopefully we won’t be,” Neville paused, for dramatic effect, “overheard.” Reluctantly, Harry followed him back down the stairs and into the common room, where they headed for a secluded corner.

“Harry! You have to help me! I think my plant ate Ron’s wardrobe!” Neville blurted out all in a rush. After all the strange things Harry had seen and heard, he hadn’t known he could still be surprised. He was wrong.

“Your plant did what?” Harry hollered, still in shock.

“Shhh!” Neville cried, shooting wild glances around the room. “I haven’t told him yet!” Harry threw his hands up into the air theatrically as he collapsed into the nearest chair.

“You haven’t told him yet? Don‘t you think he might notice?!” Neville looked at him sardonically. “Nah, you’re right. It is Ron. But still, what are you going to do? Have you asked Professor Sprout?” Neville looked, if possible, even more panicked at the prospect of telling someone else.

“No! I can’t tell anyone else, Harry, that’ll only prove Malfoy’s point that I can’t do anything right. I can! I will! I will find Ron’s wardrobe! Or…if I don’t, do you really think Ron will notice?” Harry groaned.

“I dunno, Neville…probably not. But still, someone’s bound to before long! Have you looked inside the plant?” Neville nodded, wringing his hands anxiously, and Harry lowered his voice as Hermione started over. “Well, have you tried the library? There might be something in there about vicious plants eating roommates’ wardrobes,” Harry suggested, his voice falling as he heard the sheer absurdness of it all.

“No, I’ll go and have a look now. Thanks, Harry,” Neville said before he sprinted off.

“What was all that about?” Hermione asked as she sat down next to Harry. Harry gave a half-laugh, half-groan.

“It’s just Neville…his plant sort of…ate Ron’s wardrobe!” Harry looked up as Hermione didn’t say anything, which was unusual as usually she would have berated him on the sheer stupidity of keeping a plant like that next to a wardrobe, or (though Harry felt he might be being a bit hopeful) come up with a solution from a book she’d just read. Instead, Hermione’s cheeks turned steadily pink. “Hermione, you didn’t have something to do with Neville’s plant eating Ron’s wardrobe, did you?”

“Well…yes and no!” Harry looked at her quizzically. Hermione sighed as she began to explain. “Ok, mostly yes. I didn’t feed Ron’s wardrobe to Neville’s plant! But…I did feed Ron’s sock to Neville’s plant…You see, I went up to your dormitory to see if you had the Transfiguration homework, and I was thinking how oblivious he was, and I saw his wardrobe just standing there, and I thought, well, I bet Ron’s so oblivious to, well, everything, that he probably wouldn’t even notice if his wardrobe went missing! So…I sort of made his wardrobe go missing…What? Don’t look at me like that!“ Harry laughed at the expression on Hermione’s face.

“So what did you do with Ron’s wardrobe?” he asked, intrigued.

“I put it in the last place he’d look,” Hermione revealed smugly, “in front of the History of Magic blackboard. What? It’s his own fault; if he’d only pay attention in class, he wouldn’t be in this trouble!”

“Um…he hasn’t actually realised it’s missing yet,” he confessed. “Well, he’s realised something’s missing!” Harry said hurriedly after seeing the look on Hermione’s face. “He just doesn’t know exactly what…” Hermione stormed off, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “Yeah, his marbles!” under her breath.

“What’s wrong with her?” asked a girl dressed in a big red suit complete with white trimmings round the edge.

“Ginny?” Harry asked incredulously.

“What? Oh! No, this is for Muggle Studies!” Ginny explained. “We have to go dressed as someone from popular culture - and who’s more popular than Santa! I mean, he goes into people’s houses and leaves presents! Who can not like him?! Anyway, what’s bothering Hermione?” But after exchanging a look with Harry, they both said in a resigned tone,

“Ron!”

---

A/N: Many thanks to my lovely beta, songbook99!
Dear Dumby - Issue 4

Dear Dumby,

I have a major problem. Yesterday, I got up, like I do everyday, and went straight over to the mirror, as always. But this time, something was different. I spotted - a wrinkle! I can’t have wrinkles! I’ll lose my spot as the Hogwarts hot-shot! Oh, and by the way, my hair isn’t going grey, I’m a natural blonde! Very blonde. But that's not the point.

To top it all off, it seemed that my (hopefully not diminishing) looks are not the only problem. I just lost one of my best fr - sidekicks. He left me to be Millicent Bulstrode’s new sidekick! Now I’m not nearly as menacing, especially as my remaining sidekick is just plain stupid. I now realise he’s only there for intimidation, the sidekick that left me was always the one who laughed at my smart remarks and could poke fun at others sufficiently. Now, the only laughter is from the people I’m supposed to be bullying. Instead of laughing at my snide comments, my one and only sidekick is too busy tripping over air or watching a beetle walk up a wall. It’s humiliating.

How do I get my old sidekick back (as well as my looks)?

Slytherin Stud (Who Does Not Still Have Ferret Breath)

Dear Slytherin Stud (Who Does Not Still Have Ferret Breath),

I’m sorry to say there isn’t much you can do about restoring your looks, except maybe a hair tonic. Also, you might not get so many wrinkles if you didn’t frown or sneer so much. Just a thought.

About your fr - sidekick. Maybe you would be able to convince him to return to hang around with you if you treated him more as an equal, as a friend, as a human, than as a sidekick? Also, never underestimate the power of an apology. I’m sure if you just said you were sorry and you need him back, he would accept it.

Also I am a little concerned about your recreational activities, they sound a lot like mistreatment of other children, e.g.: bullying, which as I’m sure you are aware of, is not nice, and will earn you two weeks worth of detention. If you’re stuck for something to do, why not try knitting? (Though the house-elves do not appreciate it if you leave them lying around the common room...)

Good Luck,

Dumby



Dear Dumby,

I absolutely adore Harry Potter!! He's, like, the best, bravest, most handsome, wonderful guy ever! I'm his biggest fan!! But the thing is, he never seems to notice me! I was wondering if you could help? I'm ever so afraid that this year will be the year that he gets killed by You-Know-Who, and he won't have ever told me that my hair looks nice! Also, that may be a problem, as I'm allergic to hair conditioner, which is what makes your hair shine brighter than spoons - but I can't use it! What should I do?

Love,

Sexy (Ha! I wish Harry would think that!) Lydz

Dear Sexy Lydz,

I'm glad that you have someone to focus your attention on (though I hope it isn't affecting your schoolwork), but maybe he doesn't see you enough to notice you? Maybe you ought to concoct a plan to get him to notice you? Or band together with a group of other people and set up a 'chance' encounter with him? I doubt that he would be able to ignore you then! Also, there would be so many people he probably wouldn't even notice that your hair isn't shiny.

Hope this helps,

Dumby

P.S. I hear Colin Creevey has a fan-club going...



Dear Dumby,

Yeh see, the latest addition ter ma personal sanctuary has, erm, escaped. I was tryin’ ter tame it, only I don’t think it was workin’ just yet. Yeh see, there’s a lot o’ prejudice against it; the creature is thought o’ as so terrible (at the moment - I’m sure after time it would ‘ave settled down) tha’ hardly anyone can dare ter speak it’s name. Some call it ‘Crazy’, some jus’ call it ‘The Frog’. It’s real name is…I can’t write it! But how can I catch it without admittin’ ter anyone I ‘ave it (as I think it may be agains‘ the law), an’ lettin’ it cause havoc around the school? ‘Cos if it fell inta the wrong ‘ands, the consequences could be disastrous!

Please help!

Crazy For Creatures

Dear Crazy For Creatures,

Oh dear. You know, there is often a reason for not keeping illegal creatures. Mainly that they are dangerous and can’t really be tamed. But there may be a way to resolve this; deny all knowledge of it, or anything to do with it. Or, you could try looking for it. Hopefully someone will turn it in before too much mayhem is caused!

Good Luck!

Dumby



Dear Dumby,

Can you please have a Parent/Teacher Consultation Evening tomorrow night? You know, where every teacher in the whole school goes to the Great Hall and talks to parents about their children, everything that’s wrong with them and how they’re getting on at school, for absolutely ages, so that they are all preoccupied for the whole evening, as opposed to lurking around the school keeping watch for evil dark lords who might try to break in or look after certain students who always seem to be in trouble/have attempts made on their life?

Thanks.

Former Slytherin Stud



Dear Former Slytherin Stud,

That sounds like a brilliant idea! What ever made you randomly think of something like that? I suppose it was out of care and compassion for yours and others’ children, and not the fact that you have an ulterior motive! Yes, we most certainly can have a Parent/Teacher Consultation Evening tomorrow night, although when I think of all the teachers in the entire school being preoccupied in the Great Hall and leaving the students completely alone and defenceless when there is an evil dark lord about bent on world domination and killing one in particular of our students, I feel like I'm forgetting something...

Probably that I forgot to tell Filch Mrs. Norris has turned up - in the toilet…

Dumby

Disclaimer: Nope, I don’t own Harry Potter, or the ‘Crazy Frog’, thank goodness, or he’d have leapt off a lily pad ages ago! Also, the bit about Harry using sleepwalking as an excuse is from the PoA film, (but not the bit about him sleepwalking into or out of detention) but I had to use it here!

---

Harry was only mildly taken aback to find what seemed to be the whole school empty, as so many strange occurrences had taken place lately. He wandered round the corridors aimlessly, almost wanting to run into Snape or Malfoy, just so he could have something to do. He had become so accustomed to weirdness and surprises happening, he was rather bored with nothing to do.

Ron and Hermione were in their detention with Snape, from when they committed the offence of “laughing and general merriment”. Harry decided that although he wanted something to do, it didn’t include a free-for-all (or discussion as they tried to describe it) between Ron and Hermione.

“Potter, what are you doing wandering the corridors at this time?” came a sneering voice that could only belong to Snape.

“Um…sleepwalking?” Harry replied cautiously.

“How would you like to sleepwalk in to detention?”

“I’d prefer to sleepwalk out of detention, sir,” he answered, wondering why he’d previously wanted something, anything, to occupy himself with. “Hang on - why aren’t you in detention with Ron and Hermione? Sir,” he added, after seeing the menacing look in Snape’s eye.

“Because it’s Parent/Teacher Consultation Evening,” snarled Snape, scowling. “Some parent requested it, especially for tonight, so I’ve had to leave Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger to their own devices whilst serving their detention.”

“Er - right. Well, I’ll just be off to the common room then,” Harry said, trying to sidle off down through a passageway before Snape was reminded of putting his threat of detention into play.

As Harry walked past the dungeons, he heard shouting from which he could only assume was the room Ron and Hermione were serving detention in, as he heard raised voices, one screaming, “I hate you! I never want to see you again!”

The other retorting, “Well that’s just fine!” and “bloody Krum!”

---

Harry entered the common room, too worn out from holding his hands to his ears until he was at least four floors away from Ron and Hermione and assuring the Bloody Baron that he really didn’t want any sweets, chocolate or a game of charades, to notice the surprising absence of people apart from two dark shadows in the corner.

“Ginny? Is that you?” he asked somewhat nervously. “You’re not trying out the goth look, are you? You know, I really think you’re fine just being you. Oh Merlin, you’re not going for the whole Death Eater style, are you? 'Cause that is so out of fashion. I mean, talk about living in the eighties - “

“Hey! Potter, this look is so not out of date! Like you can talk anyway, I mean, what’s going on with the whole trainers and robes look? Talk about not colour co-ordinating!” said a voice from the dark of the corner, mockingly, stepping out slightly into the light so Harry could get the full effect of the sneer plastered across his face.

“Lucius, I think Potter’s fashion mishaps are going to be the least of his worries right now, as he is faced with the ultimate evil, immoral, nefarious - “

“Bit full of yourself, aren’t you?” Harry addressed the dark shapes in the corner, trying to conceal his surprise at the unexpected beings in his common room, which he could only assume to be Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort himself. No-one else could be that vain, Harry reasoned, though he had not seen him yet.

“Shut up. You make your little jokes while you can, Potter, for this time, there is no escape!” Voldemort declared gleefully.

“Um…how about the door?” Harry walked back towards the way he had come.

“Ha! I’ve already thought of that!” Voldemort let out a high pitched laugh at the thought of Harry's upcoming misfortune as a purple haze covered the portrait hole.

“Ooh - mist! The horror, the horror!” Harry said theatrically. “Why, a mist like that, it could make it harder to see! Oh no!”

“Yes, I thought - wait, you’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?”

“Just a tad,” Harry admitted, rolling his eyes.

“Well, it isn’t the mist that’ll stop you, it’s what’s in the mist!” Harry watched in anticipation as the mist evaporated. What he saw shocked him beyond extremes. Voldemort smiled in delight at his horrified gasp.

“That is low, even for you,” Harry spluttered out. Voldemort nodded, evidently pleased with himself, as Harry took in the hoards of shrieking fan girls, all waving scraps of parchment and quills in the air and screaming excitedly.

“Harry!! We love you!!” they screeched, waving banners such as ’MrsRubeusHagridDursley loves you this much!’ and ’Can I have a chunk of your hair please, Harry? ~ Lady A’. Harry stumbled back as a blinding flash went off in his face. He wondered if this was another ingenious plan of Voldemort’s, until he realised that it was Colin Creevey’s camera.

“All right, you’ve made your point,” Harry admitted dejectedly, backing up quickly. “But why Colin? I thought it was only crazed fan girls?”

“Well he sounded interested when I was telling Mary and Farida that they could stand there and scream at you, seemed to think he could recruit more people for the fan club, now that Ginny’s backed out…anyway, I didn’t want to be sexist!” Harry looked at him in disbelief.

“No, heaven forbid anyone would besmirch your character by implying that you would ever discriminate," Harry rolled his eyes, putting his hand to his mouth and emitted a cough that sounded suspiciously like the word “Muggleborns”.

It took Voldemort a while to understand that Harry was, once again, using the ingenious and subtle art of sarcasm.

“You know, he has a point, master,” agreed Lucius, nodding to Harry before realising what he was doing.

“Shut up! Just let me continue with explaining my ingenious plan! And, Lucius, don’t encourage him! Anyway,” he continued, a smile returning to his face as he relived the pure excellence of his plan, “and you can’t go up the girls’ dormitories, you’ll just slide back down again!” Voldemort laughed maliciously.

“But I can go up the boys’ dormitories,” Harry pointed out.

“Just you try it.” So Harry made his way over to the staircase, but as soon as he got within five metres, a sound so terrible it could barely be described came on. It went something like this:

“Ring, ding ding ding, d-ding baa aramba baa baa!”

“Ahhh! Make it stop, make it stop!” Harry screamed as he fell on his knees. Voldemort smiled with a sense of achievement.

“Just step away from the stairs,” he said calmly.

“What - what was that?” Harry asked, his hands still over his ears in anguish.

“Just something I picked up from your little half-breed pal. That big oaf you call Hagrid. The creature has a name that is nearly as feared as my own,” Voldemort explained approvingly. “Whilst some call it ‘Crazy’, and others call it ‘The Frog’, it’s real name is,” here Voldemort paused and lowered his voice for the dramatic effect, “‘The Crazy Frog’.” He continued in a hushed tone. “It is an extreme method of torture that I like to use, on, well, anybody. Lucius hates it.”

“How did you get in here anyway?” Harry asked, curious as to how he overcame all of Dumbledore’s security measures, and trying to prolong the conversation and prevent whatever other forms of torture Voldemort had planned. Voldemort smiled and gestured to the fireplace whilst drumming his fingers on the armchair he was lounging in.

“But that’s impossible! Floo Powder can be detected!” Harry said, clearly trying to think. Voldemort rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“I didn’t use Floo Powder you imbecile! I came down the chimney - you know, like Santa!”

---

Down in the dungeons, where nobody was willing to go (well, not in the last half hour, for fear of losing their hearing), Ron and Hermione had been sentenced to finish off the cleaning that Harry and Ron had started in their last detention. But there seemed to be no change to the hygiene of the dungeons, probably because both Ron and Hermione’s toothbrushes were lying forgotten on the cold stone floor, and they were both too engrossed in arguing to notice the growing mould.

“Well, I don’t even care about you and Parvati! Why should I?” Hermione shrieked shrilly.

“You haven’t even given me a chance to explain!” Ron bellowed, the full force of his voice knocking over a pink potion on Snape’s desk.

“What, too busy to explain your wedding plans?”

“Yeah, well - “

“Well, me and Viktor - ”

“Oh, you and your beloved Vicky!”

“Oh, just grow up, Ron!”

“Like you can talk!”

---

“Ok, what is Malfoy doing here then?” Harry asked after Voldemort had explained that he had not just dropped by as he was in the area and fancied a catch up on Harry’s Quidditch skills, but he was, in fact, here to make another attempt to kill Harry.

“Well, it was Parent/Teacher Consultation Evening anyway, so I thought I’d stop by and see how the torture was going!” Harry noted, with a scowl, that Malfoy Senior had brought popcorn.

The sight of the popcorn, for some random reason, reminded Harry of the letter he had sent off to Dear Dumby all those issues ago under the clever pseudonym of ‘Fed Up of Avoiding Avada Kedavra’, and of the reply, which had advised Harry to find the good, kindness, or sensitivity in them, or to see if they had any shared interests. Harry thought that it would be too much like hard work to try and find Voldemort’s sensitive side, so he opted for the second choice.

But while Harry had been thinking about this, it seemed that Voldemort had been making his closing speech and had now raised his wand.

“So…how about those Cannons?” Harry asked desperately. To his satisfaction, Voldemort looked thoroughly mystified.

“Do you understand me?” asked Voldemort slowly, as if he were talking to a mentally defective plant pot. Harry nodded intently. “I’m about to kill you, and you want to know my opinions on the Cannons?”

“Oh, are you more of a Harpies fan?”

Chapter 10

Disclaimer - I don’t own Evil Villainy for Dummies, amongst other things (such as Harry Potter). Evil Villainy for Dummies is another fanfic that belongs to Hermiones_Revenge, who very kindly let me make a reference to it here, and I would strongly recommend that you read it, if you haven’t done so already!
A/N - I’m really sorry that this wasn’t an issue of Dear Dumby, but there was just too much narration to fit in! But don’t worry, Issue 5 will be in the next chapter.

---

“Um…so what made you decide to become an evil villain obsessed with world domination and ridding the wizarding world of Muggle-borns?” Harry realised he had no choice but to go with the first option of trying to find a different side of Voldemort. Or at least try and make conversation.

“Well…” Voldemort scratched his chin thoughtfully.

“Master, I’m not really sure that this is going to help you rid the world of Muggle-borns and this infuriating Potter boy. It seems more of a playing-for-time solution of his. Wouldn’t it be easier to just kill him and get it over with?” Lucius implored.

“Shut up, Lucius, I’m thinking. Go and play with your pimp cane or something,” snapped Voldemort, as he leant back in his chair.

“Fine. But don’t blame me when he gets started,” Lucius said to Harry grouchily. Harry looked at him quizzically as Lucius turned on his heel and strode off towards the portrait hole.

“Oh don’t mind him, Lucius gets in these stupid moods sometimes. He’ll be back,” Voldemort said confidently, noticing Harry’s confused expression. Sure enough, Lucius scrambled back through the portrait a minute later, his hair dishevelled and the hem of his robe was newly torn as he stumbled back into the common room. “Told you so!” Voldemort smirked.

“Crazed. Fan. Girls,” Lucius gasped out. “Couldn’t. Make it. Through! Some of them tried to rip off my robes and Colin tried to tear off my nose! I only managed to get back as I promised to read you their messages!“ With that, Lucius brandished a seemingly never-ending roll of parchment and gave an experimental cough. “Lauryn would like to tell you that she thinks your hair is cute when it’s ruffled up. Scarlet would also like to add that the robes you wore last Tuesday don’t suit you as much as the ones you wore three weeks ago…” Voldemort shrugged, before turning back to his audience: Harry.

“Well I guess it all started that fateful day in November. It was getting colder, and the matron at the orphanage, Mrs. Cole, made me wear a pink woolly hat to school - and - and - all the other kids laughed at me!”

---

Draco Malfoy was pacing the Slytherin common room, his hair not combed to perfection, his face un-moisturized. He didn’t even berate Goyle for following him so closely that he kept kicking the back of his shoes. He was too nervous. He had been laughed at. Him, Draco Malfoy, laughed at. He was supposed to be the one who laughed at other people. Things were all wrong, and he couldn’t handle it. He had no choice but to take Dear Dumby’s advice, as much as he hated to. But it was either swallow his pride and take the advice, or have his pride shoved down his throat by force every time he tried to beat up a third year and remembered (too late) that Crabbe wasn’t there to hold them still.

“Crabbe!” he said, as soon as he saw him stumble down the stairs. “I need to talk to you.” Crabbe grunted, so Malfoy took that as an invitation to carry on. “I just wanted to say, I,” Malfoy paused. “I - I’m,” he took a deep gulp of air and continued in a very low voice, “sorry.” He looked back up from his shoelaces, which he had been staring at. “Will you come back and be my sidekick again?”

“What if I don’t want to be your sidekick?” Crabbe asked in his low grunt.

“Then I’ll be stuck with Goyle!” Malfoy wailed.

“Hey!” Goyle said, two minutes later, when he realised he had been insulted.

“Well, it’s true! I mean, you even cheered when Potter got the Snitch!” Malfoy shouted at a bewildered Goyle.

“Well, everyone else was…” Goyle muttered.

“If everyone else jumped off a cliff then you’d do it too, I expect!” Malfoy snapped.

“Well, would everyone else be in Slytherin? How many people are there? What else - “

“Anyway, Crabbe, please come back! I promise I won’t put you down…as much. And you can be second in command! I’ll even buy you a Christmas present! And you can have every second Sunday off!” Malfoy looked up hopefully at his former sidekick.

“Alright,” he said simply.

“Brilliant! Well, what are we waiting for? There are midgets to hex and Mudblood’s to taunt! Come on you lazy oafs!”

---

“So that was when I decided that I would have my revenge! No more would stinking Muggles get the better of me and get away with it! I knew that, someday, I would slay them all!” Harry edged away from his side of the sofa, looking at Voldemort warily out of the corner of his eye. “I mean, why would they do that? Mrs. Cole always said that pink brought out the colour in my eyes!”

---

The dungeons were looking, if possible, more dingy than when Ron and Hermione had started ‘cleaning‘. This could have been because they had somehow managed to break two of the candle lights, but neither of them had noticed.

“Well, when it comes to naming mine and Viktor’s children, I’m going to name them after all the people who are special to me, those who I actually care about who they go out with! There will be Harry, Viktor Junior, Ginny…”

---

Harry woke up with a start.

“And that was when Haley said I was a loser! I knew then that…”

Apparently Voldemort had not noticed Harry had fallen asleep, or he didn’t care. Harry groaned as he tried to move his left foot, which also seemed to have fallen asleep. He now knew what Lucius (“Alexa would like you to know that she was the one who left a sugar quill on your pillow…”) had meant. When would it end?

---

“…Dean, Neville, Luna, Lavender, Seamus…”

---

Harry had decided to take a different approach and was now trying to insult Voldemort into getting some self pride and shutting up.

“Some evil mastermind! You weren’t even in my third year!” he interrupted.

“Hey, that was a difficult time for me!” Voldemort protested. “I was under a lot of emotional trauma! You know, most people don’t understand just how demanding being an evil overlord can be! I mean, there’s the Death Eater meetings, plotting, attending parties (but only the ones where I was guest of honour, naturally) finding new, interesting and elaborate ways of taking over the world, killing you, shopping…as you can see I was under a lot of stress!”

---

“…Hannah, Ernie, Justin…”

---

“So there I was, in my hour of need, when I found my miracle - Evil Villainy For Dummies. That book saved my career!” Harry groaned. Voldemort’s life story was, unsurprisingly, boring.

“Barney is more evil than you! You know, the purple dinosaur who sings ‘I love you, you love me, we are one big family’?”

“I know!” Voldemort wailed, throwing himself onto Harry’s shoulder. “I quit!”

---

“…Padma, Terry - “

“Merlin, how many kids are you going to have?” Hermione silenced him with a glare before continuing.

“Well, if we decide to have any more children, I guess I’d have to think of the next person closest to me, but seeing as I’ve named everyone I actually like, I have to start with people I don’t like. Let’s see, what do you think of Draco Krum?”

Hermione looked over in what could have been described as concern, if she wasn’t mad at him, as Ron seemed to be choking on air.

---

“But you can’t quit being evil! What else are going to do with your life?” Harry was in shock. He had only meant to stop Voldemort from rambling on, not rid himself, and the world, of his nemesis. Things have gone too far, he decided.

“I don’t know…play Scrabble? Start up a gardening club?”

---

Ron was giving a fantastic impression of a cat with a hairball as he retched loudly in the dingy corner, whilst Hermione carried on regardless.

“Although I feel as if I’m forgetting someone, um, R something…Oh, I know! Rob! That person I bought a new quill from three years ago! That’s who’s next closest to me!”

---

“But - but what about me? I mean, I’m the tragic hero! If you quit, I’ll have nothing! How else am I going to get girls?” Harry moaned, his head in his hands in grief.

“There’s got to be someone round here crazy or stupid enough to take you. What about that goth girl you mentioned? Not like me. I mean, it’s not as if Melie could perform a Patronus or anything. She had a ladder in her tights, and her Transfiguration - well, let’s just say she wasn’t too far out of my league…”

If Harry had been able to worm his way out of Voldemort’s grasp to move over to the table and bang his head repeatedly on it, he would have.

Chapter 11

Dear Dumby,

I am in desperate need of help. I wrote to you a while ago when I was having a problem with someone who kept trying to kill me. I took your advice and, unfortunately, I found his sensitive side. But his sensitive side just does not shut up! And I somehow convinced him to give up evil overlording! It’s not even my seventh year yet!

What am I going to do? How can I get him to stop going on and on about all the hardships in his life, his plans for a gardening club and rubber ducks, and get him to go back to being a nefarious dark lord?

Fed Up of Avoiding Getting Tears of An Alleged Evil Wizard On My Robes

Dear Fed Up of Avoiding Getting Tears of An Alleged Evil Wizard On His Robes,

Oh dear. Well, even the best advice can sometimes backfire. Now, I’m not saying I gave you the best advice, as bad advice can backfire too, but the point is, sometimes things can backfire. But it usually all turns out for the best in the end. And if it doesn’t, you can always change your name and move to Canada.

To be honest, I don’t really know how to stop evil overlords who usually try to kill you but have decided to cry on you instead. Maybe you could just offer him a tissue and tell him to have some pride, for the love of Merlin!

Good Luck (it sounds like you need it!),

Dumby



Dear Dumby,

I really, really need your help. I’m so desperate I’m not even going to pretend it’s my friend. I (not my friend) wrote to you a while ago about a problem I had with this girl. And I (not my friend) followed your advice, but all it got me was being stuck in a dungeon with her, with only our toothbrushes and soapy water, and she won’t stop yelling at me!

I was really, really nice to her, I agreed with everything she said, but then she just got really mad at me! Do you think it had anything to do with the fact that I went out with her roommate? But I only did it so her roommate could make her ex-boyfriend jealous and I could make Her - her, as in my friend, jealous! Apparently the roommate got that advice from your column too…

What can I do to make her stop yelling at me (and maybe fancy me instead)?

Scared of Having Unidentified Potions Thrown At Me

Dear Scared of Having Unidentified Potions Thrown At You,

Well, even the best advice can sometimes backfire. Now, I’m not saying I gave you the best advice, as bad advice can backfire too, but the point is, sometimes things can backfire. And it sounds like this has backfired. Oh dear. Well, have you tried explaining everything to her? Or, if you can’t manage to get a word in edgeways, perhaps you could try more unorthodox methods of stopping her talking! Of course that could backfire drastically too…to be honest, I really don’t know.

Good Luck (it sounds like you need it!),

Dumby

P.S. If this advice backfires as well, I would recommend going to Madam Pomfrey so she could reverse any damage that may be inflicted on you.



Dear Dumby,

I have a huge problem. I feel like I’ve been ignored for all my time at Hogwarts! I mean, at my Sorting ceremony, my name wasn’t called out (loud enough for anyone to hear anyway), nobody cheered when I went to the Gryffindor table; no-one ever even notices me in my dormitory, let alone talks to me! In all my years at Hogwarts, I’ve never even been mentioned - not once! No-one even knows my name! It’s always about Harry, Ron and Hermione. I mean, Lavender and Parvati even get mentioned, but not me! Should I be more superficial? I don’t seem to be in any of the lessens; I didn’t seem to go to the Yule Ball. It seems like I’m not used for anything except to make up numbers (as there’s five people in the boys’ dormitory) and for an excuse for authors to invent their own characters in fan fiction when they don’t use a new/exchange student!

Please help!

Un-Named Gryffindor Girl

Dear Un-Named Gryffindor Girl,

It sounds like you are suffering from an identity crisis. Or maybe you just like the limelight a little too much and exaggerate a bit when you aren’t centre of attention? Or maybe it’s just tough luck.

Love,

Dumby



Dear Dumby,

I wrote to you a while ago about a problem I was having with a friend. Well, it seems that making him jealous didn’t really work, as he ended up going out with my roommate! Not that I care…obviously. But I know that he definitely doesn’t think of me as anything other than a friend. Well I know he won’t now, as I’ve just been informing him of my marriage plans to a boy who he’s jealous of - like you said I should. Well, either he doesn’t care or he’s going insane with jealousy right now. And I think we all know which one of those it is.

At least he doesn’t ask me for homework any more, mainly as I’m not really speaking to him (though I have been yelling at him for the last three quarters of an hour). Now, all he’s asked me is will I pass the toothbrush (don’t ask) and how many children I want to have (also don’t ask). You know, when you put it like that, it sort of sounds like we’re married. Fat chance of that ever happening though.

So what should I do now?

Tired of Losing My Voice

Dear Tired of Losing Your Voice,

Well, even the best advice can sometimes backfire. Now, I’m not saying I gave you the best advice, as bad advice can backfire too, but the point is, sometimes things can backfire. Although this still reminds me of something that I still can’t seem to quite remember!

Why not just try letting things carry on, go with the flow! Carry on screaming if you want to, or you could break down in tears, or just let him take the lead and shout something. Or you could always do what you’re meant to be doing in your detention…

Good Luck (it sounds like you need it!),

Dumby



Dear Dumby,

It just seems that lately, well, tonight, nothing is going my way! I’ve been made to relive all the ghosts and memories of my past - and it hurts! All the bad things that ever happened to me just keep resurfacing - like when I got pushed over by the lake and everyone laughed… Or when I tripped over the hem of my robes in the dungeons, as I had to buy them big so I would grow into them, and I fell into a puddle of potion and it turned my eyebrows florescent for a week! And the time when I - I asked this g - girl to pass me the liver spores, and s- she looked at me, and she s - said; urgh! Am I that repulsive? (Or was it just the liver spores?) Obviously. I’m never going to get a g - girlfriend, or any real f - friends! I want my teddy! I want Hugsy!

Miserable

Dear Miserable

I’m very sorry that you are going through an emotional breakdown right now. But I’m afraid I can’t help you. It seems that my advice has gone wrong on several occasions. Also, I’m not quite sure how to handle that. Maybe you should just take some deep breaths?

All the best,

Dumby



Dear Dumby,

I have a rather bad problem. In fact, my problem is so bad it involves even more problems than just itself. More specifically, it involves problems of all different shapes and sizes that aren't even mine (although they are now, as I foolishly got involved in them). My problem is so bad that it has got out of control, consuming other problems and leaving them all unsolved, maybe in some cases, even worse!

To get more to the point, my problem is that I tried to help others with their problems - but I seem to have only succeeded in making things worse. So far, my advice seems to have only caused anarchy, chaos and destruction - in fact, I'm not sure I can think of a single incidence in which my advice has improved the situation at all.

It also seems that a lot of the writers have not understood the full capability of my advice (although, to be honest, I'm not sure that I do either). To make matters worse, people are still writing to me for further advice, often after my previous advice failed! What should I do?

Thanks in advance,

Dumby

Dear Dumby,

I have absolutely no idea.

Yours,

Dumby

---

A/N I am so, so sorry for the wait, guys. I'll try not to let it happen again - I'm already working on the next chapter! But at least this one's up now! And if you have some spare time to read my other stories, I'd really appreiciate it! Thanks, and thanks for reading - hold out for the next chapter - the last chapter, hopefully coming soon!

A/N: As I'm sure many of you are aware, there have been several rumours going around that this will be the final chapter. I can confirm that these rumours are true. I can also confirm that I started all of these rumours, so they were never really rumours but fact. But that is neither here nor there. Anyway, before I get on with the chapter, I would like to make it fully clear that if it wasn't for the help, input and encouragement of the following people, this fic probably wouldn't be what it is today. I say this purely so that the blame does not fall fully on me (although admittedly I'll have to shoulder a large brunt of it, but I'm hoping by the time this is up I will have got all my affairs in order and escaped) when angry readers come knocking at my door, complete with flamethrowers, trying to find the cause of this abomination. So, if it were not for the following people, this story would not be here, or at least not what it is today. So - a huge thank you to my amazing beta, Karin (songbook99), who has been such a huge help throughout, picking up on all my (little and big) mistakes, and constantly thinking of ways to improve things. So thank you (and blame!) Karin! Also, thank you so much to all the mods for patiently reading through and rejecting (and accepting things here and there too!) all these chapters. So, thank you (and blame!) moddlies! A gigantic thank you to all my readers and reviewers, for inspiring me to update and for giving me ideas and encouragement all the way through. You truly don't know how much it all meant to me. So, thank you (and blame!) readers and reviewers! So, thank you so much everyone - and thank you for reading this - the end!

---

Chapter 12

“You know, I never wanted to be evil. I always wanted to be a dentist…”

“Enough! Enough already!” Harry screamed. “This is almost worst than the Crazy Frog!” Harry knew he could take it no more. The only sound he had heard was Voldemort’s whining for the last hour, and quite frankly he couldn’t handle it any longer. “I am not a psychiatrist! What’s more, I don’t actually care! You know, everyone has problems, didn’t you read ’Dear Dumby’? You just overreact! So nobody liked you! So you had awful fashion sense! So you smell!“

“Hey! I do n - not!” Voldemort sniffled.

“Um…" Harry coughed. "Yeah… So what? Deal with it! Because I can’t!” Harry finished, feeling immensely better as he collapsed back onto the sofa, not really caring what happened next, as long as it didn’t involve any more of Voldemort’s hardships.

“But - “

“No buts!” Harry positively yelled. Voldemort gave one last sob before straightening up in his seat and wiping his nose.

“I d - don’t know how you’ve done it, once again,” Voldemort admitted begrudgingly. “But somehow you have survived another encounter with me.” He scowled, standing up and throwing his cloak around him impressively with a flourish. “Malfoy!” Lucius, who seemed to have recovered from his previous encounter (though he did still yell, “Not the robes - they‘re satin!” at random moments), stood to attention.

“What shall I do? I can’t let word get round that I’ve let the twerp escape again, I’ll get chucked out of Evil Villains Incorporated Limited!” Voldemort paled at the thought of the humiliation.

“Well, my Lord, why don’t you kill him?” Lucius asked, with slight frustration. “You know, what we came here to do?”

“Don’t be stupid, Lucius,” Voldemort said, looking at Lucius with cold distain. “I’ve had hours to kill him, how would it look if it took me this long to do it? Plus, it wouldn’t be nearly impressive enough. No, we must think of something else…a plan…”

---

Hermione seemed to be unaware of the fact that Ron had resorted to his old trick of banging his head against a desk.

“And then, at Christmas, Viktor and I will be sitting around the table, with all of our children - ”

“Yeah, all five thousand and forty two of them,” Ron added in an undertone. Hermione glared at the interruption.

“And one of them will ask about the first time we met, and we’ll tell them all about the Yule Ball, and then Viktor will say, ’remember your stupid, insensitive, annoying…”

---

“I’ve got it!” Voldemort cried out happily. Harry blinked as he looked away from his previous activity: counting his one nose. Malfoy, too, put down his nail file to listen. “This is one of my most ingenious, resourceful, creative ideas yet! We’ll… “ By now both Harry and Lucius were intrigued, although that wasn’t saying much, considering before Harry had started counting his nose he had been daydreaming about watching paint dry. “We’ll just pretend this whole thing never happened! Then, when I‘m, f - feeling better, we‘ll do this whole thing again!” Harry and Lucius exchanged glances.

“Well, that's better than the gardening club...”

“Brilliant idea, my Lord! I completely agree. One of your most brilliant ideas yet! It by far out does the one to steal Potter’s blanket…”

Harry gave a yawn and settled back down to counting his nose.

---

“I think we should make it official,” Lucius declared, after he had finished complimenting Voldemort, who seemed to be considering the idea as he warmed his toes by the fire.

“Very well then. I won’t tell anyone about this if you won’t. Cross my heart and hope to d-”

“No! Surely not hope to die, Master!” Lucius said in alarm. The night had already gone horrendously; the last thing he needed was Voldemort dying on his watch.

“No, no. Alright then, how about pinkie swear?”

---

“‘…argumentative, inconsiderate friend? The one who just sat miserably all evening and refused to dance with his date? The one who glared at us all night? The one who -'”

“Alright! I get the picture!” Ron burst out, not being able to take anymore.

“Well, at least you get something.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I knew it couldn’t last.”

---

Harry ran down to the dungeons so quickly he couldn’t see his feet move; they were just a blur. He was so elated with the fact that he was free, free at last, from Voldemort’s (numerous) woes, that he didn’t even notice Hagrid lurking around, examining every nook and cranny, or a firework fizzing around Lavender Brown who was apparently having a breakdown. He didn’t take in Peeves greasing down all the corners, so that people (like Harry, who were going too fast to take notice of their surroundings) would slip, or the fact that the Bloody Baron was too busy trying to resuscitate one of the students who was choking on one of his sweets to stop him. All he cared about was getting down to the dungeons and retelling his tale happily, with great added embellishment, naturally.

He didn’t think that Snape might have finally had enough of telling parents how closely their children resembled sea slugs, both in brains and appearance, and might have returned to the dungeons to enjoy watching his latest victims suffer. He also didn’t think that because they had been told to finish off scrubbing the dungeons the floor would be slippery, and if he rushed in, he would most likely fall over.

Luckily Snape hadn’t escaped yet and Ron and Hermione had been too preoccupied to actually clean, so Harry didn’t get the detention he had been threatened with earlier, or slip over. But he did run into the door before he slowed down enough to open it and enter normally.

Even with all the weirdness and strange things that had happened recently, even with shock of having been eliminated from Harry’s emotions due to overuse, Harry still thought that this sight was probably the most bizarre one yet.

Ron and Hermione’s lips parted from each others’ to mirror Harry’s look of complete and utter shock.

“Ron? Hermione? So...er...I guess the whole ‘I hate you and never want to see you again’ was a euphemism?” Harry asked whilst Ron and Hermione looked awkwardly anywhere other than at each other.

“I can explain!” Ron blurted out desperately. There was a long pause as both Harry and Hermione stared at him. “Ok, maybe I can’t.” Harry resisted the urge to laugh.

“Yes, you can!” Hermione corrected him hastily.

“I can? Oh, er, yes, I mean, I can!” Ron agreed. “I remember now...we were, uh, rehearsing a play!”

“In detention?” Harry was finding this extremely amusing, a lot more so than Ron and Hermione, who were both jabbering frantically, as well as turning a very deep shade of scarlet each.

“Um, yes. I mean, no! Uh, I mean…”

“He means, I, um, didn’t feel too well, and, um, fainted! And, um, Ron thought I was, er, dead! So he had to give me mouth to mouth resuscitation!”

“Yeah! And, um, then, I realised that Hermione wasn’t actually dead after all! Er, as soon as you came in! And, er, then…”

---

“What’s everyone crowding round?” Harry asked as he saw that, once again, everybody in the Gryffindor common room seemed absorbed in something on the notice board.

“Dunno,” Ron replied uselessly. “Probably another notice.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t we ask your girlfriend?” Harry suggested. He never got tired of seeing Ron’s ears turn redder than his hair.

“Have you two seen the notice?” asked none other than the source of Ron’s beet redness herself.

“Define seen. I mean, is this like when you define care, or is this the actual definition of the word this time?” Harry grinned as he saw Hermione’s cheeks turn the same colour as Ron’s ears.

“Well, they’re closing down ’Dear Dumby’! Apparently there were too many complaints about the advice going wrong!” Hermione laughed. “I mean, if you think about it, I can’t think of one piece of advice that actually worked!”

“Now you come to mention it, that's right! I mean, all Harry’s letter did was cause Hogwarts to run out of tissues and give him an ear-ache! Well, I suppose Lucius did get to file his nails…” Ron mused. Harry grimaced at the memory of it.

“Urgh, you think that was bad? Try sharing a dorm with Lavender, having to listen to her complaining about how she has to wear that awful glove, which clashed with her eye shadow.” Hermione groaned as she sat down on the sofa.

“Yeah? Well thanks to Cat-Lover 212 we had to clean the dungeons - with a toothbrush!” Harry pointed out.

“So did I! In my detention with Ron, which by the way, was all your fault!” Hermione said, addressing the last bit to Ron with a small glare.

“It didn’t look like much cleaning was going on to me!” Harry said with an evil grin (he received his invitation to join the E.V.I.L. (Evil Villains Incorporated Limited) later that evening - apparently they had a recent job opening…)

Ron and Hermione didn’t answer.

“Well, ‘Dear Dumby’ wasn’t that bad! I mean, we got our own back on Malfoy with the absence of Crabbe - for a while, anyway. I mean, alright, so it kind of helped Voldemort get into the castle and try to kill me again, and so the Crazy Frog is still on the loose - “

“What?” Ron, Hermione and the second years who had been eavesdropping yelled.

“Uh, nothing!” Harry said guiltily, before hurriedly deviating the conversation topic. “Well, Ron, ‘Dear Dumby’ did help you find out who slept with a teddy named Hugsy!”

“Who?” They both looked intrigued. “It was Malfoy, wasn’t it!” Ron asked, looking momentarily thrilled.

“Nope. It was Voldemort!” When they had finished falling about with laughter, Hermione asked the question that had been bothering her for a while now.

“What ever happened to him anyway…?”

---

“Bob, what’s wrong? Just sell the man a chair!“ Bob, the salesclerk in the Furniture Warehouse, was looking quite scared.

“But, sir, he won’t leave! I don’t even care if he buys anything, I just want him to stop talking!”

Voldemort was lying down on a leather sofa, his head resting on the armrest, his nose running slightly.

“Why didn’t they like me?”