Lord Voldemort a.k.a Tom Riddle a.k.a You-Know-Who a.k.a He Who Must Not Be Named sat upon his throne looking dejected.

"I hate Harry Potter so much!!!"

"Quite right, my lord," came the voice of Lucius Malfoy.

"Oh shut up, Luci, I was having a private moment." After some quiet reflection he continued.

"It's just not fair. I'm the greatest wizard ever, he's just a half-blood brat!"

"As are you, my lord. Half blood, if not so much a brat."

"I said shut up, Lucius," Voldemort whispered dangerously. Malfoy retreated quietly to the corner.

"I mean, I know I've given him tons of chances to escape, come up with his own plan of action et-cetera, but I really thought I had him the last time. Every time I ask him how he keeps escaping, he won't tell me! He says he blunders through it all. He's trying to trick me, the little squirt. It's not right, I'm way taller than he is!"

The Dark Lord whom all feared rose from his throne and began to pace the floor. The surrounding Death Eaters shivered.

"Where's my hot chocolate?!" he barked suddenly.

"Here, my lord." A young novice started toward him with a steaming mug.

"FOOL! You didn't put any marshmallows in it! Die!" Voldemort brandished a wand at the misfortunate, who crumpled to the ground instantly.

"See, it's that easy." He sipped his chocolate thoughtfully. "It's all Dumbledore's fault. He got the stupid boy out of the underground passage in book one when he was unconcious, he gave him a bird and a hat in book two (and I was only a memory!), Potter had strength from his phoenix's song in book four, in book five he dueled with me, in book six-"

"Forgive me, my lord," interrupted Lucius," but as the audience do not yet know the contents of book six, it would prehaps be unwise for you to continue."

"What do you mean they don't know? It's fairly straight forward isn't it? Potter is miserable because that toad Black is dead -"

"I believe he was a dog my lord," interjected Malfoy.

"Whatever. And then -"

"Master, I assure you the people do not know."

"Well, when will the book be released?"

"July 16th, I believe."

"JULY 16TH!!! THAT'S AGES AWAY!!!" The Dark Lord appeared highly disconcerted. " What's it called?"

"Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince my lord."

"What?! Why is Potter in the title? It's getting a bit predictable at this stage don't you think? He's always in the bloody title!"

Lucius whispered something that the rest of the Death Eaters couldn't hear.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T BE IN THE TITLE?!!!" Voldemort screamed at the top of his lungs. "I am a major character with the coolest evil lines and I can do anything I want! Get Rowling in here now!!!"

Lucius looked around himself uncomfortabley before answering.

"I'm afraid that's impossible, my lord, she has a Fidelius Charm on her house, no-one can find it."

"Fine." Voldemort reached into his robes and withdrew ... a phone. The Death Eaters ooohed and aaahed. Voldemort's chocolate sat by a small window, long forgotten.

"My lord, how can you hope to contact her with that piece of equipment?"

"Directory Enquiries, idiot. They know everything."

"Muggles are cool," Lucius blurted out before he could stop himself. He was treated to a round of the Cruciatus Curse.

"Hey Jo, it's Voldie, s'up? I don't care, Dung isn't the only guy that can do that you know."

"Thomas Marvolo Riddle, how did you get this number?" came the voice of J.K Rowling.

"Don't call me that. Anyway, this call is costing me so I'll just get to the point. I have been informed through my connections that book six will be released on July 16th."

"The whole world knows that by now, Tom."

(Lucius Malfoy gets another round of torture)

"I see. And why is it taking so long? If you're not careful I shall have to pay you a visit."

"Don't be daft, Tom, you'll do no such thing. I have completed the book, it's being published."

"I see. And who is publishing the book?"

"Blooms ... why do you want to know?"

"So I can hurry them up a little, and maybe be in the title?"

Joanne slammed the phone down in exasperation, casting a Fidelius Charm over her number as she did so.

"DAMN IT!!!" Voldemort cried sulkily.

Three hundred miles away, the boy named Harry Potter woke with a start, the burden of having his name in the title once again placed upon his young shoulders.

Harry Potter sat on the stairs outside the kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place, his mind racing. He had just suffered a disturbing dream/vision, (he wasn't quite sure which, as usual) concerning Lord Voldemort, and Albus Dumbledore had immediatley whisked him away from Privet Drive to the unsafer confines of the headquaters of the Order of the Phoenix. (What was that man thinking?)

He sat there, listening to the low rumblings of Severus Snape as he gave his account of the nights events. Suddenly, the door was thrown open, and silhouetted against the bright light of the kitchen stood Remus John Lupin, werewolf, defense against the Dark Arts professional, dancer extraordinarre.

"Come in, Harry, we need you to tell us what you saw," his mentor said wearily. He had been dancing against the Dark Arts all night, and he was exhausted.

Harry sat down beside his old professor, trying to collect his thoughts. It had been so awful...

"We need you to tell us the exact nature of your vision, Harry," said Albus Dumbledore kindly.

Aha, so it's visions I'm having, Harry thought to himself.

"Take your time, Harry," Remus said.

"Well, it's hard to remember everything..."

"That's alright son," said Remus encouragingly.

"But ... well..."

"Come on Potter, spit it out!!!"

"That will do, Severus," came the soothing voice of the headmaster.

"Well ..." Harry began," Voldemort was there ..."

"Yes?"

"And ... he ... he ..."

"Yes?!"

"He ... he was drinking hot chocolate ... WITHOUT ANY MARSHMALLOWS!!!" Harry bellowed, before burying his face in his arms and bursting into tears. Molly Weasley bustled over to comfort him, whilst the rest of the table quickly backed away from the mess he was creating.

"I'm afraid this is much more serious than we may have originally anticipated," said Dumbledore. "It appears that young Harry here has inherited Voldemort's obsession ... with marshmallows."

There was a collective gasp around the table, and cries of disbelief.

"He didn't even have little ones, like the sort people use in desserts!" Harry sobbed.

"I know Harry, I know." Dumbledore said quietly, his bright blue eyes full of tears.

"Anyway," Remus interjected (the whole situation was becoming a little too emotional), "there's something you must know Harry. Through Severus the Order has learned of a plan of Voldemort's to achieve what he has always desired, one so despicible that we must tell you immediatley, instead of just arousing your suspicion and interest, and then allowing you to blunder through the rest of the book wondering what it could be, like last time." He shot a particularily nasty look at Dumbledore, who was in fact playing with his beard at the time and consequently didn't notice.

"What is it Remus?" asked Harry feverently.

"See if you can guess."

"Guess?!"

"Think Harry, think of the worst."

Harry thought, and eventually the worst clicked with him.

"He ... he's ... he's going to.."

"Yes, Harry."

"He's going to steal my Firebolt?!!!" Harry looked into the sombre faces of the Order, except for Snape, who was sniggering slightly.

Remus stared at his adopted godson, sadness and disappointment evident in his tired grey eyes. How many books had they gone through by now, and still the boy couldn't recognise true evil? He was always surprised and unprepared, every time.

"Six," Snape said suddenly, reading Lupin's thoughts.

"What?"

"We've gone through six books."

"No ..." said Remus slowly, counting them on his fingers, "we've only gone through five, Severus."

"That's what you think," said Snape smoothly, and resumed his sniggering. "Potter, stop snivelling about your stupid broomstick. The Dark Lord wants to be in the title of the next book, and he'll stop at nothing. Personally, I think he should be, you're far too arrogant as it is."

Harry, whose mouth had opened angrily at the insult of his beloved broomstick, closed it quickly again in horror.

"That's right, Harry, and if he succeeds he will achieve his dream of immortality, for he will be immortalised in the title and live forever in the minds of the countless generations that will read the book!" Remus finished dramatically.

"But, Remus," Harry said slowly, logic striking him hard on the head, "won't he be immortalised anyway, as he is a character in the story, like you or me? In fact, won't we all live forever, in the minds of the fans?"

The Order stared at Harry, dumbfounded.

"That's precisely the kind of logic that Voldemort doesn't bother himself with Harry, and neither should you," said Dumbledore coldly. "You're ruining the story."

"But Voldemort can't take the title away from me, it's what makes me special and cooler than Ron or Hermione! I know I've complained a lot about the burden of fame and responsibility, but I love it really!"

"Aha!" said Snape under his breath.

"We know Harry, and that's why we've all banded together to help you." Dumbledore smiled.

"We have, have we?!" Snape snorted indignantly.

Harry looked at them all with a fierce sense of gratitude. At least things couldn't get any worse.

"Harry dear," came Mrs. Weasley's voice from the pantry, "we're out of marshmallows!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" screamed Harry in anguish.

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Seer - thank you for your great reviews and emails.

I would also like to thank Monerz, Iheartsirius and Topicgirl08 for all their kind words and encouragement which made this so much fun to write.

DISCLAIMER: I heard the cookie jar song from the show Barney the Dinosaur. I don't know if that's where it sprung from originally. God only knows where Voldemort heard it.

---

Lord Voldemort paced the dusty wooden boards which floored the crumbling remains of the Riddle House in Little Hangleton. He waited, rather impatiently, for the familiar ring at the front door and the flap of paper upon the worn carpet. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he heard what he was waiting for.

"Excellent," he breathed, "bring him to me."

There was a short scuffle outside the front door, and two Death Eaters brought a struggling man into the room before the Dark Lord. Voldemort looked upon him with cruel amusement, as he tortured the helpless Muggle postman under the flickering candlelight.

"How many times must I tell you, Muggle fool, stop delivering me this junk! I am not the slightest bit interested in being the one-hundereth customer to the local supermarket, beach holiday or no beach holiday!!!"

The balding Muggle cringed in fear, readying himself for more sharp blows from the Dark Lord's tongue.

"Now get out, and take your free Muggle give-aways with you!"

The man quickly got to his feet and hurried out of the door into the cool morning air. He wished someone would change shifts with him, Voldemort reacted the same way to Muggle post every week.

"It's just so much more fun when it's a fourteen year-old boy tied to a rock, like in book four."

"That was your father's headstone, my lord."

"Lucius, your interjections are becoming most tiresome. Why are you always here, have I no other Death Eaters?"

"Shall I fetch another my Lord?"

"No," said Voldemort thoughtfully, "get me a hot chocolate."

As Lucius hurried away, the Dark Lord delighted himself with the prospect of frying him alive when he forgot the marshmallows.

"Fools, they always forget the marshmallows," he cackled evilly.

Lucius returned with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, which had (much to Voldemort's disappointment), three large marshmallows bobbing in it. Lucius took his place amongst the Death Eaters in a semi-circle around the Dark Lord, some of which were placed upon cushions at his feet due to a limited supply of chairs.

"My dear friends," Voldemort began, and silence ensued immediatley, "you all know of my quest for eternal life and power. I believe, by getting my name into the title of the next book, I can achieve this longed for immortality."

A shiver ran around the Death Eaters present, as they exchanged looks of wonder and confusion.

"But how to achieve this position?" Voldemort continued. "I spoke to Rowling herself of course, but to no avail as many of you witnessed. However, I believe more deviant ways are possible. This of course, once again involves Harry Potter."

Some groans of exasperation were heard from Lucius Malfoy's corner, and a Cruciatus Curse was thrown his way before Voldemort continued.

"As we have already learned, Harry Potter and I share many interesting qualities. Among them, the ability to speak Parseltongue, a liking for phoenix feather in our wands, and of course, an unnatural obsession with marshmallows."

Some Death Eaters murmured in interest and agreement with this.

"So I have decided we can use this against him. We need to draw the Order's attention away from Harry's weakness for marshmallows to other types of confectionary. We shall do this by the use of a potent chant I have recently discovered :

'Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar?'

'Who me?'

'Yes you.'

'Couldn't be!'

'Then who?!'

La la la la la la......and so forth."

"Cookies, my lord?"

"Precisely. The Order will be so preoccupied with this cookie nonsense that they will forget entirely about marshmallows, thus allowing us to take all marshmallows out of Potter's vicinity. Potter will be driven insane due to his great weakness, and I will be able to penetrate his mind and learn all of the Order's secrets for the next book! Any questions?"

"My lord, I - "

"Shut up, Lucius. We strike at dawn."

On the eve of Voldemort's ferocious attack, Harry Potter sat alone at the kitchen table of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. He sighed dismally, kneading his forehead with his hands. Something was being planned, somewhere, by someone: Lord Voldemort.

Harry shivered slightly, his mouth watering. Being addicted to marshmallows isn't as easy as it sounds. He craved the sugar, but that wasn't enough. He needed to feel the soft, fluffy warmth in his mouth. Suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore. He got up from his seat and ran to the pantry, desperatley searching its laden shelves, but there were no marshmallows in sight. Harry sat on the floor, tears welling up in his fabulous green eyes. Having learned of his obsession, Dumbledore forbade Mrs. Weasley to buy any more marshmallows, hoping to cure the boy. Needless to say, Harry wasn't very fond of Dumbledore's theories at present.

Harry heard the kitchen door opening, and dashed out of the pantry, arranging his face into an expression of innocence.

"Potter!" It was Professor Snape. "What were you doing in there?"

"Nothing, Professor."

"Turn out your pockets, Potter."

"Ah, Snape, haven't we been through this kind of thing enough times?"

"You will address me with due respect, Potter! Poor famous Harry Potter, with his marshmallows and his cookies...."

"What?" said Harry, suddenly gaining an interest in this ridiculous plotline, "I don't have a cookie problem, I hate cookies, you know that, Voldemort knows that, Dumbledo-"

"Shut up, Potter. The Dark Lord uses all things to his advantage, and you must be prepared for whatever he may throw at you, literally. Dumbledore has asked Remus Lupin and myself to teach you how to dance against the Dark Arts, and for some reason I agreed."

"Dancing Against the Dark Arts?" Harry inquired as he walked with his loathsome teacher into the spacious living room, where an assortment of ballet bars stood waiting, along with Remus Lupin some other Order members. "I thought it was Defence Against the..."

"Yes, well, we decided that really wasn't working out." Remus said cheerfully. "Besides, this is much more practical. Voldemort uses the Dark Arts, so everything we use he knows about, and so he can counter us quite easily. However, we're pretty sure he doesn't know how to dance."

"How do you know that?"

"Use your head, Potter!" snapped the Potions Master. "Who is the Dark Lord's greatest enemy?"

Harry paused to think, the strain clearly evident upon his young face.

"Hmmm ... me?"

"You flatter yourself, Potter. We're talking about Dumbledore."

"Ah. Right."

"Voldemort has always gone against everything Dumbledore has done," said Remus, smiling happily at Harry as he pulled on a blue leotard and lycra pants. "It is common knowledge that Dumbledore loves music. If Voldemort were to learn how to dance, he would have to listen to music, which would remind him of Dumbledore who he doesn't like ... and so you see where I'm going with this."

"Not exactly."

"Good boy," Remus said, concentrating on the difficult 'grand jetè'. "Severus, that really isn't fair!"

Snape had pulled out a large bag of marshmallows, and was eating them slowly. Harry was practically drooling at Snape's feet.

"I'm not the one with the addiction! Why should I suffer?"

"If you don't put those away immediatley, I'm telling Albus."

Reluctantly, Snape stuffed the marshmallows back into his bag. Harry spent the next three hours learning what he could about the elusive dancing technique. The most difficult of all was the pirouette, a spin on one leg with the other tucked neatly into the knee. Harry had only just managed to master a spin to the right before it was time for bed.

"Don't worry Harry, from what Severus has told the Order, the attack is going to be mainly cookie based, we'll do our best to shield you."

"Could we not ... just ... eat the cookies?" Harry asked tentativley.

"Oh no, we're not going down that road again Potter. Do we look stupid to you?"

Harry looked from Snape with marshmallow bits in his hair, to Remus, still dancing furiously in his tight-fitting leotard, and shook his head quickly. He left the living room, and began to climb the stairs, when the most wonderful smell crept through his nostrils. Going into the kitchen, the source was revealed. Harry's tired eyes widened in shock - Molly Weasley was baking cookies.

"What are you doing!!!" he screamed in horror. "Who are you?! Who's side are you on?! TELL ME!!!"

Mrs. Weasley remained mute, shaking her head from side to side in shock.

"They're for Voldemort, aren't they?! AREN'T THEY!!!"

Remus burst through the door to the anguished woman's aid and ushered Harry away, apologising hurridley to Molly. When they reached Harry's bedroom, Remus turned to him, his hands laid heavily upon his shoulders.

"Harry, it's okay. Voldemort ordered all the Death Eaters to bring their own cookies, those are for Severus. Now stop being so ridiculously paranoid and go to sleep, tomorrow will be hard for all of us."

Calming slightly under the strict gaze of his adopted godfather, Harry nodded and prepared himself for sleep, innocent of the horrors the next day would bring.

---

He woke suddenly at dawn to the frightened yells of the inept Order members being attacked by equally inept Death Eaters.

"Harry, get up, we have to go!"

Struggling out of bed, Harry met Remus in the hall.

"Harry, Voldemort knows about your marshmallow problem, there's no time to lose. He plans to raid Diagon Alley and take all the marshmallows with him, out of your reach. Dumbledore wants you to go there immediatley and eat as many as you can; we'll try to hold them off ..."

"I thought Dumbledore wanted me to go cold turkey?"

"Harry, stop asking awkward questions and lets go!"

"You guys are always changing your minds ..." Harry grumbled as he pulled on his clothes and ran after his panicked godfather. He quickly dodged the Death Eaters that had been sent to stop them from getting to Diagon Alley, and grabbed the Portkey Remus held out to him. As soon as he arrived in the little street, he threw himself into Honeydukes, and proceeded to eat every marshmallow he saw, until, due to the noise outside, he was forced to stop and watch in horror.

Scores of Death Eaters ran through the streets, singing hoarsely as they emptied shops of marshmallows. Harry watched in confusion as the Order members who ran to stop the Death Eaters were suddenly transfixed as they got near, and instead began to search for the cookies the Death Eaters had dropped.

"Remus, what's going on?"

"We knew they were going to use cookies, but we hadn't counted on the song!" cried Remus. "I don't know how to fight this!"

"This is a new low," Harry said in disgust. He resisted the song's urge to go out and look for the cookies, and instead resumed his search for marshmallows.

"Remus, the marshmallows are gone!"

"I know Harry, that's what I've been trying to tell you. This song is unbeatable."

Unable to deal with his sudden and unexpected loss, Harry collapsed and needed to be dragged back to the Portkey by Remus. Through his blurred vision, he thought he saw Voldemort surveying the scene upon a hill-top, with a mug in his hand. Once they reached the safety of Grimmauld Place, Harry went straight to his room, unable to speak, grief tearing through his soul. He was far too young for this.

A/N: This chapter is for every single one of you, but especially for animagirlphoenix as a get well present!

---

The Dark Lord paced the dusty wooden floor of the sitting room in the Riddle House. His plan had worked perfectly, and he was in a rare good humour. He really couldn't wait to eat all his marshmallows.

"Lucius! Come on, what on earth is taking you so long? They're only marshmallows."

Lucius Malfoy entered the room, sweating and panting as he dragged a huge bag of marshmallows behind him.

"My Lord, I beg of you, could I not just levitate them?"

Voldemort eyed his follower with cold disdain.

"Lucius, both you and I know that it's funnier this way. Keep going."

As Lucius heaved and pulled the heavy marshmallows, Voldemort heard snatches of the cookie jar song. Looking out the window, the source of the noise was revealed.

"Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar?" sang Crabbe, twirling and clapping his hands.

"Who, me - " Goyle began.

"Enough!" screamed Voldemort. "How many times must I tell you, that song is not a toy! Use it on the enemy only!"

Crabbe and Goyle hung their heads. "Yes, my Lord."

Turning back towards the house, he spotted Malfoy struggling to bring another bag of stolen marshmallows inside.

"My Lord, I must ask, why are we using this house in such a prominent muggle area? Surely - "

"Lucius, how many times must this be explained? This house is the only one I have been mentioned in connection with thus far. If you want somewhere different, either write to Ms. Rowling, or get back to that blasted grave yard in book four. I, however, am remaining here. How do you expect me to make hot chocolate in a grave yard?"

"Forgive me, my Lord, I didn't think."

"You never do," the Dark Lord muttered. However, he was not really angry. 'Operation - Steal Potter's Marshmallows' had been successfully executed, and he had never felt happier.

---

Meanwhile, Harry was feeling far worse off. Remus did his best to keep his mind on other things, but with Snape eating marshmallows in his face everytime he had the chance, it wasn't getting any easier.

"Come on, Harry, concentrate! You're as bad now as you were with the Department of Mysteries corridor, at least you know what this is! Come on, don't be soft about it."

Harry's eyes filled with tears, and Remus realised too late that he had touched a nerve.

"Oh Harry, I am sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned that place."

"N-n-no," Harry sobbed, "-it's not that. It's just, you s-said s-s-soft, and ... and marshmallows are soft! Remus I miss them so much!"

"Y-es," Remus said slowly. This obsession was really getting out of hand, and it was only Tuesday! So many more training sessions to get through ... thought Remus wearily. "Well come on Harry, try to forget about those and concentrate, you were doing so well before."

And so, much to Harry's boredom and Remus's despair, they continued practising difficult dancing techniques throughout the day, and well into the night. Snape showed up every so often to laugh, and to willingly inform them that they were doing it wrong.

---

Later that evening, Harry received a surprise that made him forget about marshmallows for a record time of ten whole minutes. Ron and Hermione arrived in number twelve Grimmauld Place.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed, burying her bushy head in his shoulder, "we've wanted to come for so long!"

"How are you mate? You look bloody awful."

"Ron!"

"Well, he does. I'm sure he knows."

"Thanks, both of you, I'm fine. Why didn't you come earlier? Enjoying the summer, are you?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other before turning as one to stare at Harry.

"Well, the summer was alright, mate, but school has been hectic. We couldn't come 'til now."

Harry was bewildered. (No change there then.) "What do you mean, school?"

"School started back ages ago, Harry. I guess Dumbledore wanted to keep you here to work on your marshmallow problem."

Marshmallows ...Harry thought dreamily. However, the unexpected news that the school had re-opened when he thought it was still the summer holidays was enough to drag him back into the conversation.

"Didn't you notice the summer holidays were a bit too long?" Hermione asked wisely.

"Well, they always are with the Dursleys. What time of year is it then?"

"I'm guessing it's Hallowe'en. We're on holidays for one thing, that's how we got the chance to visit you."

"Of course it's Hallowe'en, Ron. Don't you pay attention to any of the books?" said Hermione.

"Not really. What's your point?"

"There is an obvious pattern to the works of J.K. Rowling, as the seasoned reader will no doubt be aware..." Hermione began, in a lecture-like drawl from the opening of an extremely boring textbook. Ron had that glazed look in his eyes that showed he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to Hermione's rant, and Harry was eyeing their bags suspiciously, making a mental note to raid them for marshmallows later.

"If you would care to look at any of Rowling's previous installments," Hermione continued, "you will see that it starts off with the introduction, it's the summer. Blah blah blah, a jump in time, next it's Hallowe'en. Same again, then it's Christmas ..."

"Oh yeah," Ron said, shaking out of his stupor when he heard the recognisable story structure.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again - it's all in 'Hogwarts, a History'. Would at least one of you just read the bloody book, please!" said Hermione exasperatley.

---

That night Harry didn't sleep well. He had been informed by the headmaster that he was being sent back to Hogwarts tomorrow along with Ron and Hermione. Dumbledore's words rang in his head ...

"Get over the marshmallows already and go to school! You're constantly in the way here. This is Order Headquaters, for Merlin's sake!"

"It's easy for him," Harry thought, "he's not the one with the marshmallow addiction." He tried once more to get to sleep, but as he began to doze off, his scar seared with pain.

Harry looked down at his pallid hands from a great height, and watched Lucius Malfoy dragging hundreds of marshmallows towards him. His mouth watered, but he wasn't in control. He heard a high, cold voice issue forth from his throat, and watched helplessly as he put marshmallows into his mouth. He couldn't taste them, though he kept chewing. Harry wanted to scream out in agony at the injustice of it all.

Suddenly, Harry was back in his own body again, and Lord Voldemort turned around to face him, with bits of marshmallow plastered around his mouth, complete with a chocolate moustache.

"Want one, Potter?!" he cackled evilly, as he continued to shove marshmallows into his throat.

"NOOOOO!!!" Harry cried out, waking suddenly in a pool of sweat. He settled down onto his soft, fluffy pillow, but that only made things worse, as he sobbed into the night for fluffy marshmallows.

---

A/N: As I sat down to write this chapter, I was struck down with an unexpected, but severe case of writer's block, which hasn't happened to me before. I hope you'll forgive me if this chapter isn't up to par, as I struggled to write it. I promise I will edit it as soon as I've sorted myself out of this dilemma. It's strange, just before this I submitted chapter 4 of Vampyr, and that was fine ... Zetera

A/N: Hi everyone! This chapter is for Monerz and animagirlphoenix (you know who you are). It is also for all those people that were ready to kill me for not updating ... until they saw this chapter, and realised I had. :-)

---

The next morning was frantic in number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Eager to move the story to a different setting, Harry, Ron and Hermione ate and dressed quickly. They stood at the foot of the dusty staircase, waiting impatiently for Remus to appear from the bathroom and take them to the train station at Kings Cross.

"Why take the Hogwarts Express though?" Harry wondered aloud. "It's November already, couldn't we just fly, or something?"

"I like trains," said Remus simply. "Besides, it's in keeping with tradition."

"But in the third book -"

"Come on, Harry, we don't want to miss it!"

Unable to finish his sentence, Harry ran down the steps of Grimmauld Place with Ron and Hermione, watching from the corner of his eye as the house vanished.

"I suppose it gives the driver something to do between September and June," Harry mused, with his mind still on the train. Ron and Hermione decided it best not to disillusion their tempermental friend with the fact that the driver didn't actually wait in the train from the start of term until it ended.

---

The journey was a relatively peaceful one, with very few others abord the Hogwarts Express. Harry slept for most of the journey, and they allowed him to do so, as he had just related his nightmare involving Voldemort, and needed as much sleep as he could get. In fact, he only woke up once, to the sound of the food trolley accompanied by the smell of hot chocolate.

"I want ... give to me ..." he said groggily in his sleep.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?"

"Yes," Harry said, waking up more fully. "I want a huge mug of hot chocolate ..."

"Yes," said the witch kindly, as she poured out the steaming liquid.

"... and as many marshmallows as you can fit in the mug. Actually, you can just leave the trolley with me."

"Oh, I am sorry, dear. No marshmallows on board, I'm afraid. They're nowhere to be found. Every supplier I know is out of them, I've never seen the like before."

"What?" Harry said, looking upon his mug of hot chocolate with a mixture of disgust and fear. "What am I supposed to do with this slop if I have no marshmallows?"

"Harry, show some courtesy," said Remus warningly. The boy's attitude was starting to irk him. The food trolley was swung around angrily by a now extremely disgruntled looking witch, as she pushed past them, out the door.

"Oh, well done, Harry. Now we have no food."

"Shut up, Ron, I have no marshmallows."

"Wow ..." said Hermione quietly, "... when Voldemort said he was going to remove all the marshmallows, he really meant all the marshmallows. I wonder where he put them all?"

"Shut up, all of you," said a tired Remus. "Harry, stop annoying everyone and go back to sleep. I'll wake you when we arrive."

"Do you have to?" said Ron and Hermione simultaneously.

---

Lord Voldemort sat in the middle of the dusty floor in the living room of the Riddle House. Unfortunately, due to an excessive amount of marshmallows, all of the chairs in the house were taken up. Lucius Malfoy struggled inside, his usually neat blonde hair in disarray.

"That's the last bag, my Lord." he panted.

"Very well Lucius, you are dismissed." Voldemort didn't even look up at his weary servant, much to Malfoy's upset. Instead he remained sitting cross-legged upon the floor, scribbling away at a piece of paper.

"My Lord, may I ask, what are you concentrating on?"

The Dark Lord looked up at Lucius and bade him come closer. Lucius did, trembling in anticipation. Much to his disappointment however, Voldemort simply handed him a mug.

"More hot chocolate, and open up another bag of marshmallows, Lucius. I need to keep my creative juices flowing."

"For what, my Lord?"

"For this, fool," said the Dark Lord, brandishing a thick volume of pages at Malfoy. "Tom Riddle and the Half Blood Prince, 608 pages long, first edition. I'm going to sell my own book of events, nothing but me from start to finish. We'll see who sells out first!"

As Voldemort continued to scribble furiously, Lucius began to think that maybe the Dark Lord's strict diet of sugar and marshmallows wasn't such a good idea.

"My Lord, sorry to interrupt this ... ahem ... creative process, but how are you going to sell the book?"

"Rowling's publishers said they'd take it off my hands if I stopped calling their offices, trying to get her title changed. Leave the details to me, Lucius. I know what I'm doing."

"Of course, my Lord, of course." Tentatively, Lucius ventured forth another observation.

"My Lord, prehaps if you were to sell an electronic copy of the book under Rowling's name on the internet? You could make thousands, and sell you're own book in the process."

"I'm not stupid, Lucius," said the Dark Lord menacingly. "No-one is going to be thick enough to buy an electronic copy of a book that hasn't been released yet!"

"Yes, my Lord, of course," said Malfoy sheepishly, having already spent large amounts of his savings trying to purchase a fake copy of the 'Half Blood Prince' from a certain internet company.

"People want something they can feel in their hands, Lucius. I'm going to give them that. Rowling will be destitute after I'm finished, she'll be forced to include me in the title of future books, just to sell them!"

Voldemort passed Lucius the finished cover of his book. "What do you think?"

Malfoy stared at the child-like scrawl of 'Tom Riddle and the Half Blood Prince' in crayon. Underneath was a sloppy painting of Voldemort holding a bag of marsmallows, and sitting on the figure of Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived had a speech bubble coming out of his mouth, which read "Lord Voldemort is way cooler than me."

"Err ... it's ... genius, my Lord."

"I know that Lucius, I designed it. I thought I told you to get me a hot chocolate?"

As Lucius hurried away, he decided it was his duty to try and ween the Dark Lord off marshmallows. They obviously weren't doing him any good.

---

Harry sat with Ron and Hermione at breakfast the next morning in the Great Hall. There were whispering students all around them, Harry's late return to school had been noticed.

"Hey," Harry asked, as he scanned the staff table for an unfamiliar face. "Who's the new Defence professor?"

"Oh, you didn't hear?" said Ron off-handedly. "Dumbledore couldn't find anyone, not surprising really, when you consider everything that's happened. It's going to be a mixture of Lupin and Snape."

"What?!" Harry spat. "Why Snape? Why not Lupin full-time?"

"Well, Remus resigned at the end of the third book because he was worried about hurting someone, and because he was worried at what some parents might say," said Hermione. "If Snape does a few classes, Remus can be a part-time teacher, and if he's not on the list of full-time staff, the parents really can't say anything."

"But what about hurting the students? I know he wouldn't, but -"

"He said student safety will just have to take a back seat to his financial situation. Merlin knows, he needs the cash," sighed Hermione.

"But, Snape has Potions -"

"Remus takes the classes he can't teach."

"Wow, Snape's going to be really bitter at having all these extra classes."

"He seems to be enjoying it really," said Ron. "Two opportunities to take points from Gryffindor in a day instead of one ..."

"What do we have first?" Harry asked, as he saw Hermione checking her timetable.
"Hmm, Transfiguration today, then Potions, then Defence Against the Dark Arts ... it's going to be a tough day. Oh, sorry Harry, you and Ron have Divination first."

"Divination? No way, I gave that up. I definately remember saying I was giving it up in the 'Order of the Phoenix'." Harry quickly whipped out his copy of book five and flicked through it to ascertain the truth.

"Harry mate, it's okay. You did say you were giving it up, but I thought it would be cool to sign us up again. You know, just for the sheer hell of it!"

Harry stared at Ron in disbelief. Little did he know that the rest of his day would turn out to be just that, hell.

---

A/N: A special thank you to Transfiguration_teacher, who suggested I try to work the recent internet scam involving book six into this story. ~ Zee


IMPORTANT NOTE: One of my lovely reviewers - Monerz has created an image of Voldie's book cover. I strictly urge all of you to go to my bio and get the url to check it out. I love it and I'm sure you will too. Thank you, Monerz!

As Harry trudged wearily to Divination, with an impending sense of doom, he was tapped gently on the shoulder by an anxious looking Remus Lupin.

"Harry, I need for you to come to Professor Dumbledore's office for a little bit, okay?"

Trying to hide his glee at being removed from the assured torture of Divination, Harry bade goodbye to his confused friends, and followed his guardian up the marble staircase to the headmaster's office.

"Remus, why do I need to see Dumbledore?" Harry inquired. "What's happened?"

"The headmaster wants to give you your O.W.L. results, Harry," said Remus nervously. "There wasn't a chance for you to get them over the summer, with ... everything."

A thought sprang into young Harry's head, in much the same way as a disused light-bulb shines through a dusty hallway.

"So, I'll find out what classes I got into?"

"Exactly."

"Remus ... have you seen them?"

"No-one but Dumbledore has access to information like that, Harry."

Tension began to rise in the boy's stomach, and his throat became dry with anticipation. Had he been more observant, he would have noticed that Remus was almost as nervous as he was.

***
A short time later, Harry sat in front of Dumbledore's desk, with Remus Lupin laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. Professor Snape was also present, much to Harry's dismay, as he had been speaking with the headmaster moments before. Harry gulped as he remembered signing up for Snape's classes last term in the hopes of becoming an Auror.

"Right ..." Dumbledore muttered, "where did I put those results then?"

He commenced turning his desk inside out in his search. As he disappeared underneath numerous drawers and countless silver instruments, Harry remembered the rage he had unleashed upon the delicate office last term with an enormous amount of pleasure.

"Okay then," Dumbledore said at last, "here you are, my boy, and well done."

Harry took the crumpled piece of parchment from Dumbledore's grasp, and with bated breath, he did his best to decipher the results hidden underneath old tea-stains.


To do list:

1) Talk to Severus about new secret mission,

2) Give Potter his O.W.L. results,

3) Buy new socks at Gladrags,

4) Try to stop Voldemort before he goes too far, again,

5) Try to plait my beard so it will curl in waves and ...


"Oh, sorry, here it is," said Dumbledore happily, handing Harry an equally shabby piece of parchment.


ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL - RESULTS

NAME OF CANDIDATE: Harry James Potter


Astronomy ~ A

Care of Magical Creatures ~ E

Charms ~ E

Defence Against the Dark Arts ~ O

Divination ~ P

Herbology ~ A

History of Magic ~ P

Potions ~ O

Transfiguration ~ E

"Hey, that's not bad! I got seven O.W.L's, and the other two were high passes!"

"Well done, Harry!" said Remus excitabley.

"Well, Harry, this qualifies you for all the classes you applied for, those being - Transfiguration, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions ... and Divination."

"Now wait a second!" Harry and Snape said simultaneously.

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes," said Harry angrily, "I don't want to do Divination, Ron signed me up for it!"

"There is no way on this earth that I am going to endure another two years of this little prat," said Severus Snape coolly.

"Harry - if you are signed up for a class and have been accepted, you must attend."

"But I didn't!" Harry yelled, until Remus nudged him in the back, warning him to be respectful. "I mean, I got a P."

"Yes, well, Trelawney will take anyone, her classes tend to be very small at N.E.W.T. level."

"I wonder why?" said Harry sarcastically.

"As for you, Severus, you will teach whom you are paid to teach."

"You couldn't pay me enough to teach this arrogant little toe - rag. How many times do I need to say I hate him?"

"Severus,"

"I don't care, I'm not having him in my class! He must have cheated."

"I did not!" Harry shouted. "Maybe I'm just better at Potions than you ever allowed me to be!"

A stunned silence followed these words, as Snape put his face very close to Harry's. Harry wished he wouldn't use that as a form of intimidation, Snape's breath smelled awful.

"Very well, Potter, bring your arrogant little self to my classroom this evening, and we'll see how much you know. And be warned, Potter, you're in for hell."

---

"All done!"

The Dark Lord proudly held up the finished version of his book to the Death Eaters gathered around him. Two of these devoted followers lay dead at his feet, after Lucius Malfoy's ill-fated attempt to persuade some of the Death Eaters to stop adding sugar and marshmallows to Voldemort's hot chocolate.

"It's wonderful, my Lord."

"I would like someone else's opinion for once, Lucius." He stared coldly at his kneeling servants. "Well?"

"... wonderful, my Lord."

"Yes, sir ... absolutley spiffing."

"Oh, damn you all," Voldemort grumbled. "Every single one of you is utterly incapable of giving an individual opinion." Opening another bag of marshmallows, he flicked through the book with satisfaction.

"Hmm ... it really is wonderful," he sighed happily. "Lucius, I'm off to the publishers. You're in charge."

Preparing to Disapparate, he called out, "Mind those marshmallows - I've counted them!"

With that, the Dark Lord vanished, a copy of his colourful book under his arm.

---

Harry headed towards Defence Against the Dark Arts in despair. After his meeting with the headmaster, he was disappointed to see that he was only twenty minutes late for Divination, and there was ample time left for Trelawney to predict his death.

Sure enough, the old fraud wasted no time in commenting on his demise in the not-so-distant future. Much to Harry's dismay however, she predicted that his death would be related to a marshmallow overdose, and Harry's throat watered as she continued, oblivious to Harry's addiction. As she commenced going into immense detail as to the texture of the marshmallow, Harry almost screamed as his craving peaked. Thankfully, the bell rang at this moment, but the day was not over yet.

Transfiguration was no better, as McGonagall assigned the class to transform balls of parchment into marshmallows. As Harry did so, he was overcome at the sight of his forbidden fruit, and quickly stuffed the transfigured parchment into his mouth.

"Potter, no! It's not real, Potter, the parchment only takes on the appearance of a marshmal - someone help him, he's choking! Potter, this is why I specifically asked you to read the theory."

In Potions, Snape vindictively set them the task of making a Lustias Potion, which made the drinker crave whatever ingredient was added to it at the last moment. Snape added a marshmallow to Harry's, and bade him drink it, increasing Harry's want for marshmallows ten-fold. Through his pain, Harry vaguely wondered where his professor had gotten the marshmallow.

So it was with a heavy heart that our young friend made his way towards Defence Against the Dark Arts, vowing to walk straight out again if Snape was teaching this class, or if it had anything to do with marshmallows.

To his delight, Remus Lupin was taking the class, and it appeared they would be doing a revision lesson on O.W.L. material, before Remus prepared to take them through the N.E.W.T.'s with his own specially prepared classes of advanced Dancing Against the Dark Arts.

After an interesting lesson introducing this kind of defence, some of which Harry remembered from his lessons in Grimmauld Place, Remus pulled Harry aside as the rest of the class filed out.

"So, Harry, how have you been?"

"I'm fine, Professor."

"Please, Harry, it's Remus. Surely you know me well enough by now."

"Okay, Remus, it was crap. Your lesson didn't help much either, but at least it wasn't about bloody marshmallows."

"Stay strong, Harry. Remember, even the smallest person can change the course of the future."

"Remus, you really have to stop reading 'The Lord of the Rings'."

"But I'm serious. This task was appointed to you, and if you can't make it ..."

"Really, Remus! Cut it out!"

Harry swung his bag onto his back, and stormed out of the classroom. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

---

As he lay in bed that night, Harry tossed and turned in his sleep, disturbed once again by visions of the Dark Lord. His scar seared with pain as he felt Voldemort's anger.

"They said they were only joking! They refused to publish my book! MY BOOK!!! You know how long I spent colouring it."

"Yes, my Lord."

"This has gone too far, Lucius. How dare those pathetic Muggles oppose me?"

"Quite right, my Lord."

"Very well - this calls for a new plan. It will have to involve - "

"Err ... Harry Potter, my Lord?"

"Exactly Lucius, well done."

With that, the dream faded from Harry's view, yet the Boy-Who-Lived was left with a strange sensation of having fallen from the sky. It was only then he realised he had fallen out of bed.

"I am the Dark Lord, the Dark Lord, the Dark Lord,
I am the Dark Lord, the Dark Lord on high,
I am the Dark Lord, the Dark Lord, the Dark Lord,
Potter and pathetic Muggle fools will ... fry,"

"Wonderful use of meter, my Lord. I must condone your use of repitition in particular ..."

"No amount of flattery is going to get you out of this one, Lucius. I should have killed you in that graveyard in book four. No-one would have missed you."

"My Lord, I humbly beg for forgiveness, I thought all for the best ..."

"You thought eating my marshmallows was for the best, did you? I told you no-one must touch them when I went to the publishers! How stupid I was to leave you in charge."

"My Lord -"

"Enough blabbering! If I didn't need you to make hot chocolate, you would be dead by now, Lucius. Don't ever forget that."

"Yes, my Lord, of course ..."

The Riddle House in Little Hangleton had been subjected to the Dark Lord Voldemort's futile attempts to re-invent himself as a poet. He held the vain hope that Rowling's publishers might prefer his book in verse.

"After all," he mused, "that Shakespeare chap did alright for himself, and he was just a pathetic Muggle."

"Indeed, my Lord."

"Lucius, I've stopped listening to you now. Just get me a bag of marshmallows. One of the only one's left, after your indulgence," said Voldemort, glaring at Malfoy as he ran towards the cellar with his head bowed.

---

Harry stared at his broomstick. His beloved Firebolt, a present from his dead godfather, his most prized possession was - broken. Voldemort stood over him, laughing his terrible laugh, having snapped the beloved broom over his knee only moments before.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Please, I'll do anything, put it back together!!!"

"Potter!"

Harry opened his eyes, and jumped to see himself reflected in the very angry face of Professor Snape.

"I'm sorry if my class is boring you so, Potter, but you will do me the courtesy of keeping your eyes open for the remainder of the hour. Seventeen points from Gryffindor."

The class gasped in shock. Beside him, Harry saw Hermione raise a shaking hand into the air.

"What?" spat Snape.

"Please, sir," Hermione quivered, "you usually take points away in even numbers. You should say ten points from Gryffindor, or your usual favorite of fifty points from Gryffindor. The exception being, of course, our very first class in Potions, when you took just one point away, because Harry was cheeky, and you've never done that since -"

"Silence, you silly girl. I'm free to change my patterns whenever I so wish. Besides ... I remember taking fifteen points away at one stage ..."

Snape's eyes appeared glazed as he recounted various episodes of point deduction in his mind.

"Potter!" he snapped suddenly, "get off the floor!"

"I want you to leave me alone," Harry said defiantly.

The boy had sunk to his knees, the shock of having his broomstick broken was just too much to bear.

"He needs to go to the hospital wing, Professor!" shouted a fellow classmate.

"I'll go with him," Ron and Hermione said in unison.

"No, you'll miss the rest of my lesson. We're going to be dancing soon, and I'm sure you need all the help you can get after Lupin teaching you."

The Ron and Hermione stared blankly at their teacher, as Harry moaned and groaned and generally made himself even more of a nuisance than usual.

"Oh, very well! Merlin forbid that precious Potter should come to any harm."

Ron and Hermione escorted Harry quickly from the room, and made their way to Dumbledore's office, hoping to confide Harry's most recent dream to him.

"When is this story going to end?" Harry moaned. "I'm so sick of this ..."

"Every story must reach it's conclusion, Harry, which must try to be as interesting and surprising as possible," lectured Hermione.

Harry looked as though he would retch. Rounding the corner, they came face to face with a less than welcome Slytherin.

"Aww, is dear little Potter feeling faint?"

"Malfoy," Harry muttered, through gritted teeth.

"Well done, Potter, I see you remember my name. You won't forget it once this war is over."

"Shove off, Malfoy!" said Ron angrily.

"How wonderful life is for you, Potter, when you have a Weasley and a Mudblood for protection."

Hermione went furiously red, and Ron reached for his wand. However, nothing Malfoy could ever say would compare to his next action. He reached into his robes, and withdrew - a bag of marshmallows, and a packet of cookies.

The trio stared at him in shocked disbelief, as he began to eat, gazing nochalantly at them.

"What?"

"AAARRRRGGGHH!" Harry dove at Malfoy, pulling him to the ground in a desperate fight for the bag.

"Death Eater!" yelled Ron and Hermione, as they frantically tried to pull Harry away.

"Get off me, Potter! Where in Merlin's name are Crabbe and Goyle?!"

In a blind panic, Malfoy threw the cookies at Harry, who immediately cowered away from them in fright.

"Arrrggh! It burns, it burns!!!"

"Don't be stupid, Harry, you're fine," Hermione said, staring thoughtfully after Malfoy, as he ran from the scene clutching the marshmallow bag.

"You know what this means," Harry said feverishly, as Hermione's eyes glowed with realization. Ron shook his head slowly.

"Oh, Ron, you can be really thick," said Harry in annoyance. "Malfoy's father is stealing marshmallows from Voldemort!"

"Let's go to Dumbledore," Hermione whispered, and the three continued on their way to the headmaster.

---

"I did it, Lucius, I did it!"

The Dark Lord pranced exciteably amongst his Death Eaters, many of whom were too surprised at their leader's actions to ask what was going on.

"Yes, my Lord?" asked Malfoy, as he handed Voldemort a mug of hot chocolate, full to the brim with marshmallows. The Dark Lord, in his excitement, immediatley spilled it down his front. As Malfoy wiped him clean with the hem of his robes, Voldemort continued to jump up and down with glee.

"I finished it, I finished it! It's much, much better than before, it's the best thing I've ever read - listen."

Taking his place in the center of the circle, Voldemort began:

"There was - "

"Posture, my Lord, shoulder's back."

"Yes, Lucius, thank you." He coughed slightly, and began again.

"There was - "

"Project your voice, my Lord." Malfoy cringed under the glare he received from Voldemort, and added, "All the better to hear you with - "

"Yes, Lucius, that will do. Ahem."

"There was a young boy named Tom Riddle,
Who despised learning to play the fiddle,
He dropped by one day,
To his teacher's dismay,
And killed him with a laugh and a tickle!"

Silence followed this excerpt from Voldemort's Tom Riddle and the Half Blood Prince - a Secret Life Revealed in Poetry and Prose.

"Well?"

The Death Eater's clapped, and Voldemort appeared satisfied.

"They have to accept this one, I'll bring it to the publishers tomorrow. Now, however, I must check on this situation with Potter. He is dangerously close to uncovering the truth before it's proper place in the story."

As the Dark Lord swept out of the room, Lucius made his way tentatively towards the cellar. He was determined to rid the Dark Lord of this terrible blight of marshmallows, and return to the normality of Ms. Rowling's original series.

---

In Dumbledore's office, the old man sat at his desk, his thin legs spread.

"Please excuse me, I must stretch. Severus and I are practicing Dancing Against the Dark Arts tonight. Poor Remus is transforming."

"Do you have any idea what Harry's dream means, Professor?" asked Hermione.

"Hmm ... I have my suspicions, Miss. Granger. Of course, I will not reveal them until the end, when it is far too late. However, I will tell you this much - I believe we are moving ever closer to the truth."

*
Before Harry went to bed that night, he opened his trunk to take a loving glance at his Firebolt. For a moment, he thought the shining wooden handle was a sleeping snake, but a second glance revealed it was just a trick of the light. However, as he closed the lid, he could have sworn the broom took on a green tinge. Harry went to bed, confused and afraid as to what was going on, and what was in store for him.

---

Government Health Warning: There are only a few chapters to go, everyone. Stop throwing things at me!

"Just get over it, Lupin."

"Look at what you've done! It's completley ruined! I've only just gotten it dry-cleaned too. I'm not made of money, you know!"

"Don't feed me the 'poor werewolf tale', Lupin. You could have cleaned that suit by magic."

"No, I couldn't have! The fur is far too delicate - "

The door of the dungeons creaked open as Ron and Hermione entered the Potions classroom, accompaning Harry to his Dancing Against the Dark Arts lesson.

"What's going on?" Ron asked Lupin, who was holding a plastic bag and seemed severely agitated.

"I'll tell you what's going on! Severus has spilt his potion all over my werewolf outfit, it's completely ruined! It's the full moon tonight, what am I going to wear now?"

Harry looked extremely confused, as Ron and Hermione shook their heads sympathetically whilst giving Professor Snape dirty looks.

"You can stop that right now, both of you, or it's detention," spat Snape. "Honestly, Lupin, I don't see what the fuss is about. You're always complaining about having to wear that bloody thing, you'd think having it ruined would be a blessing."

"But it defines who I am! I'm Remus Lupin, the loveable werewolf; lonely, misunderstood, forced to live within the constraints of society -"

"I know." Snape said smugly.

"Well, it's hardly something to argue about," began Ron.

"Oh, we're not arguing," Snape said, "you'll know when we're arguing."

"How will I know?"

"What?"

"How will I know when you're arguing?"

"Well, it'll be obvious," offered Remus, "you'll know. It's just an expression."

"But what if I don't know?" said Ron pointedly. "I mean, I thought I knew then, didn't I? But I was wrong. So what if the next time, I think I know, how will I know that I know, and that I'm not just thinking it?"

"What?"

"Could you please stop having that conversation, you're driving me crazy," said Harry desperately, "I have a question."

"Shoot, Harry," said Remus kindly.

"Shoot what?" Ron whispered.

"No, Ron, that's another expression. I can give you a book about them if you like," offered Remus.

"That'd be great, because I never really understood those," Ron continued. "I mean, what if someone really means shoot? How're you supposed to know - "

"Will you please shut up! I'm trying to get something straight here!" Harry yelled.

Ron was about to open his mouth again at this, but Hermione silenced him with a look.

"Okay," Harry began, turning to look at Remus, "so you're not a werewolf?"

"I am a werewolf, Harry, we discussed this in the third book, remember?"

"But ... you have a werewolf ... costume?"

"Yes?"

"So you're not a werewolf; you don't transform."

Ron and Hermione tried to hide their smiles as Snape laughed openly.

"Potter, no-one actually transforms these days! All werewolves use costumes now, they have them tailor made once they're bitten. The Ministry has an office for it. Do you think we're living in the Stone Age?!"

Ron and Hermione burst out laughing at this point, and even Remus couldn't hide the small smile forming upon his lips.

"I can't believe you didn't know, Harry, I forget how little you know of the wizarding world."

Harry went bright red as he waited for the laughter to subside, and the lesson to begin.

---

The Dark Lord stomped about the Riddle house in a foul temper, barking orders at all he saw.

"My Lord, you're back!" cried Lucius, as he hurried towards his master. "How did it go? Did they like it?"

Malfoy's blood ran cold as he saw Voldemort turn slowly to look at him, rage evident upon his bone-white face.

"I don't wish to discuss it, Lucius."

"But, master, you spent so long at this one, and it was very good, everything rhymed - "

"Silence!" the Dark Lord screeched, and Malfoy backed away into his corner." I said I didn't want to talk about it! I have a new plan concerning my original scheme, Lucius. You know what I'm talking about."

Malfoy ran to the cellar to get Voldemort's hot chocolate and marshmallows, a vital combination for any scheming session. As Malfoy opened the last bag of marshmallows, he dreaded what his master would do when he realized what Lucius had been up to. Dropping the last marshmallow into the cup, he left the empty cellar, locking it safely behind him.

---

After a tiring lesson, Harry crept upstairs to bed, with Ron and Hermione at his side. His scar was prickling.

"I wish I knew what this means," he muttered, as he massaged his searing forehead.

"Oh, Harry, isn't it obvious to you yet? We're near the end of the story, so it's nearly time for the battle between you and Voldemort."

"Aww, not again! He always picks the end of the book, I thought he might do something more intelligent this year."

"That's evil genius's for you - always predictable. I'd watch out for the usuals if I were you, Harry. Stay away from secret passage - ways, giant snakes and shiny trophies tonight, okay?"

"Don't worry, I'm not thick."

As Harry climbed into bed, blissfully unaware as to how thick he really was, he remembered the terrifying dream he had regarding his Firebolt. As he opened his trunk to check on it, a strange sight met his tired eyes.

His Firebolt hissed at him, as it rose up out of the trunk at it's own accord. The broom flashed a bright green as it whipped past Harry and knocked him to the floor. As it crashed out the window, Ron remained sound asleep.

"Ron, Ron, wake up!!!" Harry yelled frantically. He ran towards the girl's sleeping quaters and shouted up the stairs for Hermione. As she entered the boy's room in her dressing gown, she ducked just in time as the broomstick crashed back into the room, making another hole in the window.

"What on earth is going on?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to follow it as usual - want to come?"

"Harry, why would we come with you? We could get killed!"

"But, this is it, the moment we've all been waiting for! This is what we've been leading up to, to boldly go where no man has gone before ..."

"I know, mate, it's just ... you know ... we're kind of tired."

Harry stopped racing around the room after his Firebolt, and stared at his two best friends.

"But ... you always come with me when I do stupid things like this - what's changed?"

"Nothing, Harry, it's just -"

"No, no, that's fine, I get it. Stay here, be safe, what do I care?"

"Oh, shut up, Harry." Hermione looked at Ron, and they both resigned themselves to another daring exploit. "We'll go if it means that much to you."

The trio made a chain by holding hands, and Harry caught on to the bristles of his frantic broomstick.

"Wait a second," interrupted Hermione, "does anyone else thinks it looks like a snake?"

The broomstick suddenly crashed through the window once more, dragging it's heavy load with it, before anyone had a chance to answer.

---

The Dark Lord stood at a small window in the Riddle House, finishing off his hot chocolate. Malfoy remained in his corner, praying desperately that his master would not demand more marshmallows, as there were none left.

A small smile crept upon the Dark Lord's face, as a broomstick flew through the window, landing abruptly next to Voldemort. Harry, Ron and Hermione scrambled to their feet.

"Can you believe it Lucius!!! The idiot actually followed the broomstick! This just keeps getting easier!"

"Kill him, my Lord!"

"All in good time, Lucius, I must gloat first."

Voldemort shut the door in the little room after all the Death Eaters filed in, laughing merrily at the stupidity of Harry Potter. They formed a circle around the Dark lord and his prey, as Harry shivered in his pyjamis.

"Well, well, well, Potter. We meet again."

"Well, duh. I knew this was going to happen, you know."

"Oh, really? Did you know this was going to happen?"

Voldemort clicked his fingers, and Harry's firebolt flew straight into the Dark Lord's hands.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!!! I can't believe I was right all along! You are trying to steal my firebolt!"

"Yes, Potter, you mentioned that in chapter two, and no-one even noticed. Don't you love it when everything comes together like this in the end?"

"But ... the marshmallows, and the book title ..."

"All will be revealed in my gloating, Potter, which I shall undoubtedly do whilst you devise an escape method," said Voldemort smoothly, happy that everything was going according to plan.

"Ah, yes, you thought you were so clever, didn't you, little baby Potter?"

"Little baby Potter?"

"Yes, well, it was the best I could come up with."

"Actually, you took it from Bellatrix Lestrange. I thought it was awful then too. It doesn't even make sense."

"Shut up, Potter! You are in no position to challenge me, and yet you insist upon it, time and time again!"

Voldemort stared at the surrounding Death Eaters, who were watching curiously.

"Gather round, everyone, and watch this. I am going to finish off the great Harry Potter, and I promise you it will be most amusing for all concerned."

---

A/N: A special thank you to Auror316, who suggested the werewolf suit for Remus.

A/N: At last, it's here. Exams are over, and I'm back on track. Yay! This chapter is for everyone that screamed at me for updates. The pressure works, people.

---

Harry awoke to the sound of water trickling down the window-panes. His head ached as he tried to understand where he was. Suddenly, everything came rushing back … Ron, Hermione, Voldemort …

“Where’s my broomstick?�

“Potter, you’ve just interrupted my story!� spat the Dark Lord from his make-shift throne opposite Harry and his friends. “Now I’ll have to start again …�

Harry gave a quick look around at his dismal surroundings. The small room contained one window, the Dark Lord before him with Lucius Malfoy in tow, and his two friends still asleep beside him.

“Potter, you’re not listening!� scolded Voldemort.

“What?�

“As I was saying, before you and your friends very rudely fell asleep,� the Dark Lord continued, “my fifth year was a troublesome time for me. It’s hard to get a girl-friend when you’re a youth set on world domination, so I had to content myself with figuring out the Chamber of Secrets. I got that the next year. That Basilisk was friendly, but it all went down-hill after that girl was killed because –“

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!� shouted Harry exasperatedly. “Why do I have to hear your life–story every time we do this? Book two, book four, when does it end? I practically know everything about you!�

“But this is the only time I get to talk about myself,� said Voldemort angrily. “You always get all the attention! I only make an appearance at the end of the book, and it’s not good enough!�

“But, it’s so boring.�

“My life is not in the least bit boring, Potter!�

“Well, we all feel asleep,� said Harry pointedly, gesturing to Ron and Hermione beside him.

The mighty Dark Lord began to stamp his foot and yell incoherently. Malfoy trembled at his feet. Harry remained superbly unperturbed.

“Is that supposed to scare me?�

“You’d better be scared if you know what’s good for you, Potter!� spat Voldemort. “You’re not ruining my moment this time!�

“Oh, just write a book, why don’t you?�

“Oh, but I have, Potter,� grinned the Dark Lord mischievously. “And your death, dear boy, will make the perfect final chapter. Lucius! Get the book.�

Malfoy got to his feet hurriedly, and ran from the room before Voldemort had time to ask for anything else.

---

Ms. Joanne Kathleen Rowling, or ‘Jo’, as she goes by, sat in her castle without a care in the world. Looking out over the lake and mountains that surrounded her, it seemed as though she resided in Hogwarts itself. The peace and quiet that she enjoyed after her tiring work on her next best seller lasted for approximately 10.056237 minutes, before she was hurtled back into the world she had created by none other than Remus Lupin.

“Hi, Jo.�

“Remus, you know better than to enter into this world. Get back in –“

“Jo, we need you. Voldemort has Harry, and we think he might do some serious damage this time –“

“How do you know he has Harry?�

“Well, the dorm is a complete mess, there are holes in the window and the trio have disappeared. It’s either Voldemort or Fred and George.�

“Don’t worry about it Rem. Voldemort can’t kill Harry, that battle isn’t until –“

“But, he’s been down to your publishers every single day! He’s seriously violating the Statute of Secrecy. Dumbledore’s furious with him, he wants everything back to normal by July sixteenth. The readers won’t be expecting this, the last book ended with ‘The Second War Begins’, we need to fix this, and it’s all -“

“Alright Remus! You’re much more frantic in real life.�

“I’m sorry, it’s just that Severus ruined my werewolf suit and I need it for the next book.�

“I’ll get you a new one. Come on, let’s go save the day.�

Remus and Jo ran towards the broom closet, where Jo pulled out the new Lightening 3000, the fastest broom yet.

“I thought you gave Harry the best broom?�

“Don’t be ridiculous, Remus. Besides, I haven’t introduced this broom to the books yet.�

“Remus pulled out the Butterfly 63, the slowest broom in it’s class. Remus knew from experience that this broomstick was not the most comfortable either.�

“Emm, could I get a different broom? I don’t want to look cheap.�

“Stay in character, Remus.�

With that, Ms. Rowling flew off into the twilight at a startling speed, whilst Remus Lupin followed at a distance, wobbling occasionally.

---

Lord Voldemort took his book, Tom Riddle and the Half Blood Prince - a Secret Life Revealed in Poetry and Prose, and set it down before Harry Potter.

“Well, Potter, what do you think of that?�

“It looks very childish to me, if we’re being honest with each other here,� Harry began. “Did Malfoy draw it or something?�

“How dare you, Potter. I am the only one who insults Lucius.�

Harry felt himself being dragged up by Voldemort’s wand, and prepared himself for the dose of pain he was undoubtedly due.

“Crucio.�

“Oh, that’s original,� spat Harry before he began to yell in pain.

Suddenly, the pain stopped. Harry opened his eyes cautiously. Voldemort stood before him, shaking his wand. Red and gold sparks flew out of it.

“For Merlin’s sake, why does this always happen when I attack you? I think my wand is broken.�

“Or maybe you’re just stupid!� Harry shot back, displaying his clear lack of wit.

“Yeah, good comeback, Harry!� said Hermione, who had woken recently and was surveying the scene with great interest.

Voldemort ignored this feeble insult, and threw Harry against the wall, shoving a copy of his book under Harry’s nose.

“You see, Potter? This is what it’s all about. You thought you could defeat me? This book will line the bookshelves of every bookshop in the world by 9.00 a.m. tomorrow, and there is nothing you can do about it.�

Voldemort began to break into one of his trademark evil laughs, but before he could begin, the door burst wide open, and an assortment of people entered the Riddle House.

The door to the sitting room of the Riddle House in Little Hangleton burst open as Remus Lupin pointed his wand at the Dark Lord.

“Stop right there, punk!�

“Oh, Remus, that’s not staying in character!�

“But, I just always wanted to say that.�

Brushing past Lupin and the trio, Jo strode up towards the Dark Lord Voldemort, with her lawyers in tow.

“I’m afraid you have breached copyright, Tom. You’re my character, and under the terms of our contract you can’t just go about selling your own version of events.�

“But -�

“No, Tom. I don’t want to hear about it. Hand over the book and let the children go.�

“Hey, we’re not children,� said Ron sleepily, having just woken up.

Jo stopped suddenly and surveyed the room with interest. Her eyes passed over Ron and Hermione, lying helplessly on the ground. She stared at Harry, whose face wore a strange expression of confusion and boredom. She watched Lucius Malfoy as he cowered and whimpered at Voldemort’s feet.

“What on earth is going on here?�

“I was just playing around …� Voldemort mumbled.

“Tom Riddle, you know perfectly well that this is not the way the story goes.�

“Well, why do you have to decide everything? You’re such a dictator. I bet you’re going to have me lose in the end, aren’t you?�

“This is not the time or the place for this discussion,� said Rowling, as she took out her wand and pulled the trio to their feet.

“Merlin’s beard, Tom, they don’t even have a scratch on them! You are very bad at this.�

“It’s not my fault!� exclaimed the Dark Lord, “it’s … it’s … it’s because I’ve run out of marshmallows. Lucius!�

Malfoy looked as though he was about to cry, as Jo stared at Voldemort in bewilderment.

“What do you mean, marshmallows?�

“He’s addicted to them, but he won’t admit he has a problem,� muttered Malfoy.

“Lucius!�

“It’s something to do with the connection he has with Potter,� Malfoy continued, “I think Potter has a problem with them too. I don’t really get it.�

“Shut up, Lucius,� interrupted Voldemort. “This is most unlike you. Get my hot chocolate this instant.�

“There’s none left. No marshmallows left either. I gave them all to Snape to get rid of them. I’m sick of this storyline.�

“Snape?�

�I am very confused,� Jo whispered to Harry. “Everyone is completely out of character.�

“That’s what you get when you keep us waiting too long for the next book. We do get bored you know. And Voldie’s been longing for his fifteen minutes of fame.�

“How on earth am I supposed to get you all back to normal before July?�

“Don’t ask me,� Harry shrugged, “I’m addicted to marshmallows, for God’s sake.�

“Severus Snape!� screeched Voldemort.

“I’m over here, my Lord,� said Snape, as he emerged from the shadows.

“What have you done with my marshmallows?�

“This and that …� said Snape. “I ate some, and I slipped some to Potter, to hold him over. Of course, I also had some fun with them.� Snape turned to Harry. “Remember chapter seven, Potter?�

“How could I forget?� moaned Harry, as memories of Hogwarts came rushing back.

“Interesting,� Jo muttered to herself. “Everything is always revealed in the end.�

“Of course!� Hermione shouted, causing everyone, including Voldemort, to jump violently.

“That’s how you had the bag of marshmallows in chapter four,� Hermione continued, as she pointed at Snape, “and how you had that marshmallow in chapter seven. That must be how Draco Malfoy had a bag in chapter eight, because they were in your house!� She finished dramatically by pointing at Malfoy.

“That’s great, Mudblood,� snarled Voldemort, “but how does any of that help anyone?�

“It doesn’t really,� answered Hermione, “but I felt that needed to be cleared up, just so we’re all on the same page.�

“Alright,� said Jo, as she stood in the center of the room. “This is starting to get out of hand. Book six will be on the shelves in a matter of months, and no, Tom, I’m not talking about your book,� she added, as Voldemort’s mouth opened in excitement. “I need you all back to normal. So far, only Lucius here seems to have tried to rectify this ludicrous situation.�

At these words, Malfoy stood up proudly, but was pushed to the ground again by the irate Dark Lord.

“Fine,� Voldemort said. “Can I kill Potter first?�

“No, Tom, I need him for the next book.�

“Unfair!� yelled Voldemort, as Lucius stood up again.

“See! I told you to kill him the minute he fell through the window, but no, you had to gloat.�

“Lucius, I said shut up,� the Dark Lord whispered in his most dangerous voice. Malfoy retreated to the corner.

“He does have a point, actually,� laughed Jo. “I mean he’s just a kid. He couldn’t be that hard to kill. Why didn’t you just get Severus to poison his drink or something?�

“Ms. Rowling,� Voldemort said smoothly, “You are far from being an evil mastermind, so I shall forgive you for that ludicrous, yet practical solution. You know as well as I do that I like elaborate plans, and you won’t change me now.�

“Very well,� sighed Jo. “Everyone gather round.�

Ms.Rowling brandished her wand, and with a great sweeping motion she cried out:

“Dolor Artuum!�

The room was filled with a golden light, which flew through the mouths of everyone present, except for Rowling herself.

“Right, how are we now?�

“Voldemort got to his feet gingerly and stared at the occupants of the room. Jo’s lawyers ran from the fearsome Dark Lord, who looked as though he was recovering from a bad headache.

“Why is there a Muggle in my presence?� he hissed menacingly.

“Excellent, you’re back to normal, Tom,� said Jo, as she pocketed her wand.

“Rise, Lucius, and kill the Muggle. I shall deal with Potter.�

“Ah, yes. I had hoped that this wouldn’t happen,� said Jo worriedly. Quick, everyone grab this!�

Clutching an empty marshmallow bag that lay on the floor, Jo directed her wand towards it as it glowed bright blue.

“Portus,� she whispered.

Harry felt the familiar tug at his naval as he bumped against Ron and Hermione beside him. Through his aching headache, he noticed the outline of Dumbledore’s office come into view. He felt as though he was recovering from a very bad dream.

They were going back …

Harry raised his head as Dumbledore’s office swam into view. He steadied his glasses, which had miraculously survived the ordeal uncrushed. Jo Rowling was busy brushing dust from her suit, whilst Remus was helping Ron and Hermione to their feet. Everyone looked very confused, especially Dumbledore himself, who wandered into his office in his nightgown, clutching a bag of sherbet lemons.

“And to what do I owe this night time visit? Office hours are outside the door, nine to five, Monday to Friday, closed on Sun -�

“Yes, thank you, Albus, but I’m afraid the recent situation warrants this intrusion,� said Jo, as she nabbed a sherbet lemon from Dumbledore’s bag.

“Merlin’s Moustache! Jo Rowling in my office!�

“Don’t change my phrases, Albus,� scolded Jo appraisingly. “It’s Merlin’s Beard, if you don’t mind.�

“But I do mind. No one ever comments on the moustaches; they must feel very left out. The moustache makes the beard, you know! I mean, have you ever seen a beard with out a moustache? Frightful!�

“Obviously he’s not back to normal yet,� muttered Jo under her breath. “This spell will need some time to take effect, so enjoy your last few minutes of insanity, everyone.�

“Aww, I don’t want to go back to normal!� yelled Harry.

“Yeah, me neither,� said Remus, “I feel that I’m a rather dull character, Joanne. Maybe you could spice things up a bit. I mean, Sirius died, and look at what that did for him! Millions of fans, all bawling their eyes out. Now that’s fame.�

“Yes,� said Jo slowly, “but he’s still dead, Remus.�

“Well, you can’t have it all,� Remus pointed out logically.

“I need a few things cleared up,� interrupted Harry.

“Don’t you always,� muttered Jo under her breath, while smiling sweetly at her creation. “Yes, dear, what can I explain for you?�

“Voldemort’s alive.�

“Yes.�

“And, I’m alive.�

“Yes, you are.�

“But it’s the end of the book.�

“Exactly.�

“Well,� said Harry in a voice of suppressed calm, “why isn’t he dead? Or, why aren’t I dead? Shouldn’t he have strangled me to death with an empty marshmallow bag, or something?�

“Harry, dear, what time of year is it?�

“It’s June, of course. The traditional time in each book for my fight against the Dark Lord, where he inevitably, against all the odds, fails to kill me.� Harry’s eyes lit up with a sudden realization. “Oh, I get it, it’s not time for that yet!�

“Well done. Yes, I do still have another book to write.�

“And I’ll kill him then?�

“ … �

Before Jo could open her mouth to reply with the answer we have all been longing for, Severus Snape burst through the office door, driving the thought from the room.

“Well,� snarled Snape, “thank you very much, for leaving me alone with an extremely angry Dark Lord, and for blowing my cover!�

“You’re welcome, Severus,� said Jo, “but don’t worry. Voldemort won’t remember a thing. Neither will you, in fact, as soon as this spell takes effect.�

“And when will that be?�

“As soon as this chapter is over. You will all ready yourselves for book six in July, and never mention this little adventure again.�

“Oh,� said Snape, calming slightly as he slid into a nearby chair.

“Right, well, I’ll take off so,� said Jo to the room at large, as she put on her jacket. “Is everyone sure they’re alright now?�

“Yes,� muttered the room dully.

“Oh, don’t be so upset! Maybe you’ll enjoy book six.�

“I doubt it,� said Harry.

“Yes, well I doubt you will, Harry, it’s not going to be a nice book for you. Maybe you should get some therapy before July. I know a very good psychologist, Jack Freud. He’s a descendent of the late, great Sigmund Freud, and -�

“I don’t care.�

“Ah, now you’re sounding more like a teenager. I’ll send him in for you. Don’t worry, he’s very good. He’ll even draw a scar on his forehead to better understand your pain.�

“Just leave, Jo.�

“Yes, on second thoughts that may not be such a good idea. He does tend to bring everything back to the patients mother, and given the circumstances -�

“Jo! Enough!�

“Alright, just do a good book for me, okay? Maybe we’ll see each other next summer. We have a book seven to plan, you know.�

“Oh, Hurrah,� said Harry sarcastically.

“So, what will we do now?� asked Remus.

Without answering, Ms. Rowling decided to leave her embittered characters and return to her castle in the north of England. “After all,� she thought, “they do have a lot coming at them in July. I may as well leave them to it.�

---

The Dark Lord Voldemort sat in the Riddle House alongside his Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, looking very dejected.

“I hate Harry Potter so much!�

“Quite right, my Lord.�

A brief silence followed these remarks.

“You know, we’re back to where we were before all this, don’t you Lucius?�

“You’re right, my Lord.�

“Soon we shall be completely back to normal, and all of my evil plans have come to ruin once again.�

“Yes, my Lord, it certainly appears so.�

Lucius Malfoy was very disappointed. His master was tired and bored. “At least,� he thought, “the marshmallows had made things more interesting�. Had he done the wrong thing?

As though he had read his mind, Voldemort rose from his throne and opened a secret compartment behind his hot chocolate machine.

“I made Severus give me the one’s he had left,� the Dark Lord muttered with glee, as he pulled out a large bag of marshmallows.

“My Lord,� began Lucius excitedly, “do you feel like another wacky adventure?�

The glint in Voldemort’s eyes died as he popped a marshmallow into his mouth.

“No, Lucius, I’m far too tired. Besides, we don’t have enough time left.�

“Game of wizard’s chess then, my Lord?�

“No,� Voldemort settled back into his throne. “Turn on the television Lucius. I want to see every Harry Potter movie that has been made thus far. I’m going to beat him next year, Lucius. I really am.�

---

Harry wandered through number twelve, Grimmauld Place, trying to find something to occupy his time until July. Unexpectedly, he was whisked away to Surrey with a loud pop, and found himself staring at the front door of number four, Privet Drive. Mrs. Dursley yelled at him to come inside and clean the house in time for the following month. “Anything would be better than this,� he thought dismally, hoping against hope that his stay in Privet Drive would be brief this year. He really couldn’t wait for book six to begin.


THE END

---

A/N: Hi everyone, I hope you enjoyed the final installment. Thank you everyone who has reviewed and emailed me, you have all made this so much fun. I hope you continue to read my other stories!
~ Zee