Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, then why would I be writing fan
fiction?
A/N: This Fic is really weird. Let's just leave it at that.
Harry was sitting at breakfast, enjoying a lovely ham and cheese omelet, when all of the sudden a large black owl landed right in front of him. "Harry, whose owl do you think it is," asked Hermione. "I have no idea, but it certainly looks like Bob, Hedwig's boyfriend," replied Harry. "Hey Harry, there's a letter! Why don't you open it and see what it says," said Ron. Harry reached over and untied the letter from the owl's leg, mindful of the sharp talons. He opened the letter and read over it once, twice, three times. By about the fifth reading, Ron and Hermione were getting a tiny bit impatient. "HARRY," cried Hermione, "Tell us what is says!" Harry looked over at her, a dazed look in his emerald eyes. He turned his attention back to the letter and read slowly.
"Potter,
It has come to my attention that we really don't know each other that well, and I was kind of wondering if you would like to come to tea with me today at two. If your accept my invitation, then this letter will act as a portkey and take you to my humble home.
Your Sincerely,
Lord Voldemort"
Harry looked towards his companions. They both were looking like Malfoy just declared his love for Snape and was currently trying to seduce him. In other words, they were gaping wordlessly at him. Harry looked down at the letter once again and came to a decision. "Guys, I think I'll go, and who knows, maybe I'll have fun." With that decision made, Harry went to the library to look up a charm for curing embarrassing warts in embarrassing places.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() ()()()()()()
Harry felt himself being pulled by his navel, the telltale signs of the portkey activating. His last coherent thought as he was dragged away was, 'Did I miss something here, or did I really accept an invitation with VOLDEMORT to TEA!'
Harry landed hard on the cold stone floor. "Ah, Harry Potter, what a pleasant surprise. Where are my manners, come and sit next to me deary," cooed Voldemort. Harry looked warily up at him. Voldemort had DEFINITELY changed in appearance. He was wearing a long blond wig. A violently pink dress with little frills that reminded Harry somewhat of a ballerina costume clung closely to Voldemort's body, leaving nothing to the imagination. Harry silently wondered if Voldemort had gotten an operation, or did he have toilet paper stuffed in a bra. Voldemort winked at Harry. Harry shuddered. Harry noticed that Voldemort had way too much blue lipstick on and his mascara was clumping his fake eyelashes together. His red eyes glowed with a kind of seductive sheen to them. Harry shuddered again. "Don't be afraid Harry darling, I don't bite . . . much," said Voldemort with a grin.
Harry reluctantly sat on the chair next to Voldemort and first noticed the room they were in. The stone floor clashed violently with the hot pink wallpaper. The fireplace had a cheery fire going on in it. The chairs and the table he and Voldemort currently occupied were blue with green poka- dots. Various pictures lined the bookshelves. All were of Voldemort. Some of them were Voldemort when he had hair, other were of him and Michael Jackson, and some were just a little to suggestive to mention. Posters of Justin Timberlake lined his walls and a large four-poster bed with a Barbie comforter sat in the corner of the room. Harry wondered if Voldemort and Michael Jackson were related. The resemblance was uncanny. Or maybe Voldemort just had a Michael Jackson fetish. He really didn't want to think too much about the Barbie comforter.
"Now Harry, I really must apologize for the whole 'let's kill Harry Potter' thing. I really am sorry that I made your life a living hell. I understand if you never want to see me again, but, I really do like you and I was wondering if you could give me a chance." As Voldemort was saying his little heart-warming speech, his hand had somehow found his way onto Harry's thigh. Harry gulped audibly.
"Erm . . ."
"Now I will understand if you need a little time to think it over, but I really do like you Harry, and I was hoping we could be friends and then maybe even a little more if it works out," said Voldemort soothingly. Harry nervously looked around, hoping for a conviently opened window to jump out of. No such luck. Damn.
"Err . . . do you think that . . . umm . . . maybe I could . . . "
"Oh of course, you want tea right," asked Voldemort," You must never make life altering decisions on an empty stomach, that's what my granny always said. Would you like a cookie?"
Harry sat up in bed abruptly. 'It was all a dream. It was all a dream. It was all a dream.' Harry kept repeating this little mantra in his head as he tried to slow his rapidly beating heart. The snores from Neville's bed assured him that he was safe in his dorm. 'Well,' Harry thought,' I'm not going to get much sleep after THAT tonight. Might as well get a head start on my homework.' Harry reached over to get his glasses from the nightstand, and his hand fell on something soft, and . . . . frilly? Curiously, Harry brought the offending item in front of the moonlight that was filtering in the window, and got a good look at what it was.
It was a piece of clothing. A pink piece of clothing. A pink and FRILLY piece of clothing.
Harry screamed.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed my story! I know, it was a little bit stupid and WAY disturbing, but I thought it was kinda funny. I know I'm definitely not the best or semi-best writer in the world, but I did have fun writing it! Please review and tell me what you think.
A/N: This Fic is really weird. Let's just leave it at that.
Harry was sitting at breakfast, enjoying a lovely ham and cheese omelet, when all of the sudden a large black owl landed right in front of him. "Harry, whose owl do you think it is," asked Hermione. "I have no idea, but it certainly looks like Bob, Hedwig's boyfriend," replied Harry. "Hey Harry, there's a letter! Why don't you open it and see what it says," said Ron. Harry reached over and untied the letter from the owl's leg, mindful of the sharp talons. He opened the letter and read over it once, twice, three times. By about the fifth reading, Ron and Hermione were getting a tiny bit impatient. "HARRY," cried Hermione, "Tell us what is says!" Harry looked over at her, a dazed look in his emerald eyes. He turned his attention back to the letter and read slowly.
"Potter,
It has come to my attention that we really don't know each other that well, and I was kind of wondering if you would like to come to tea with me today at two. If your accept my invitation, then this letter will act as a portkey and take you to my humble home.
Your Sincerely,
Lord Voldemort"
Harry looked towards his companions. They both were looking like Malfoy just declared his love for Snape and was currently trying to seduce him. In other words, they were gaping wordlessly at him. Harry looked down at the letter once again and came to a decision. "Guys, I think I'll go, and who knows, maybe I'll have fun." With that decision made, Harry went to the library to look up a charm for curing embarrassing warts in embarrassing places.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() ()()()()()()
Harry felt himself being pulled by his navel, the telltale signs of the portkey activating. His last coherent thought as he was dragged away was, 'Did I miss something here, or did I really accept an invitation with VOLDEMORT to TEA!'
Harry landed hard on the cold stone floor. "Ah, Harry Potter, what a pleasant surprise. Where are my manners, come and sit next to me deary," cooed Voldemort. Harry looked warily up at him. Voldemort had DEFINITELY changed in appearance. He was wearing a long blond wig. A violently pink dress with little frills that reminded Harry somewhat of a ballerina costume clung closely to Voldemort's body, leaving nothing to the imagination. Harry silently wondered if Voldemort had gotten an operation, or did he have toilet paper stuffed in a bra. Voldemort winked at Harry. Harry shuddered. Harry noticed that Voldemort had way too much blue lipstick on and his mascara was clumping his fake eyelashes together. His red eyes glowed with a kind of seductive sheen to them. Harry shuddered again. "Don't be afraid Harry darling, I don't bite . . . much," said Voldemort with a grin.
Harry reluctantly sat on the chair next to Voldemort and first noticed the room they were in. The stone floor clashed violently with the hot pink wallpaper. The fireplace had a cheery fire going on in it. The chairs and the table he and Voldemort currently occupied were blue with green poka- dots. Various pictures lined the bookshelves. All were of Voldemort. Some of them were Voldemort when he had hair, other were of him and Michael Jackson, and some were just a little to suggestive to mention. Posters of Justin Timberlake lined his walls and a large four-poster bed with a Barbie comforter sat in the corner of the room. Harry wondered if Voldemort and Michael Jackson were related. The resemblance was uncanny. Or maybe Voldemort just had a Michael Jackson fetish. He really didn't want to think too much about the Barbie comforter.
"Now Harry, I really must apologize for the whole 'let's kill Harry Potter' thing. I really am sorry that I made your life a living hell. I understand if you never want to see me again, but, I really do like you and I was wondering if you could give me a chance." As Voldemort was saying his little heart-warming speech, his hand had somehow found his way onto Harry's thigh. Harry gulped audibly.
"Erm . . ."
"Now I will understand if you need a little time to think it over, but I really do like you Harry, and I was hoping we could be friends and then maybe even a little more if it works out," said Voldemort soothingly. Harry nervously looked around, hoping for a conviently opened window to jump out of. No such luck. Damn.
"Err . . . do you think that . . . umm . . . maybe I could . . . "
"Oh of course, you want tea right," asked Voldemort," You must never make life altering decisions on an empty stomach, that's what my granny always said. Would you like a cookie?"
Harry sat up in bed abruptly. 'It was all a dream. It was all a dream. It was all a dream.' Harry kept repeating this little mantra in his head as he tried to slow his rapidly beating heart. The snores from Neville's bed assured him that he was safe in his dorm. 'Well,' Harry thought,' I'm not going to get much sleep after THAT tonight. Might as well get a head start on my homework.' Harry reached over to get his glasses from the nightstand, and his hand fell on something soft, and . . . . frilly? Curiously, Harry brought the offending item in front of the moonlight that was filtering in the window, and got a good look at what it was.
It was a piece of clothing. A pink piece of clothing. A pink and FRILLY piece of clothing.
Harry screamed.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed my story! I know, it was a little bit stupid and WAY disturbing, but I thought it was kinda funny. I know I'm definitely not the best or semi-best writer in the world, but I did have fun writing it! Please review and tell me what you think.