Calvin groaned. He was lying on his back in the middle of the hotel bed, with Hobbes lying right next to him.

"Why can't we go do something?" he whined.

"Because we're tired, Calvin," his mom said resignedly. "It's the jet lag. You'll probably crash soon, anyway. It's not worth it to go anywhere."

"But it's still light outside."

"I don't care. Your dad's already asleep, anyway."

"Fine," he growled out. "Be that way." He turned over on to his side to stare out the window. His dad had a business trip over to Great Britain, and they had decided to make a family vacation out of it. And while he appreciated going somewhere that wasn't that stupid dinky little island, it was still boring. They were staying the night at a small bed and breakfast in a dinky little town called Little Hangleton. Calvin heard a soft snore and glanced over at his parents. His mom had fallen asleep, her mouth slightly open. He grinned. Now maybe they could have some fun.

A few minutes later, Calvin and Hobbes were slipping out the door, a big grin on their faces and a backpack full of supplies.

. . . . .

"So, remind me again why we're playing Calvin Ball in an old graveyard?" Hobbes asked while setting up the wickets around the gravestones.

"Hobbes, you know you're not supposed to question Calvin Ball, right?" Calvin wrapped his mask around his head.

"This doesn't seem safe," Hobbes muttered.

Calvin rolled his eyes. "Hobbes, would I put you in danger?"

"Is that a rhetorical question? Yes, you would. You have. You continue to do so."

Calvin rolled his eyes. "Just shut up."

They had only been playing Calvinball for a few short minutes when they were interrupted by a loud crack.

Calvin gasped, grabbing Hobbes and pulling him behind a nearby gravestone. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Hobbes said, annoyed. "Are you cheating again? Just because I was winning doesn't mean-"

"Shhh!" Calvin hissed, covering Hobbes' furry mouth with his hand. "There's someone over there."

"Over where?"

"There!"

"Oh, over there. I see them now."

Calvin and Hobbes peered through the darkness at the two figures. All of a sudden one of them fell to his knees, his hands flying up to clutch at his head.

"Look!" Hobbes hissed. "There's another one over there!"

The new person was walking slowly towards the others. They were wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over their face, and were carrying what looked like a baby. They came closer and closer, until they were only six feet from the other two.

From almost out of nowhere, a high, cold voice said, "Kill the spare."

There was a flash of green light and a thud.

"Oh sweet chocolate frosted sugar bombs, is he dead?" Calvin whispered.

"That's it. I'm calling the police." Hobbes declared. "No!" Calvin gasped. "He'll kill you too. We can't do anything."

The boy and his tiger watched silently as the cloaked man tied the other boy to a headstone. He did some weird thing with a big bowl, and then the bundle he had been carrying was suddenly a tall sinister snake-man thing.

"Hey, he looks sort of like dad," Calvin whispered.

"I fail to see the resemblance," Hobbes responded.

Meanwhile, Harry Potter was freaking out. Cedric was dead, Wormtail had returned, and now Voldemort was going to kill him. Really, with his luck sometimes it didn't pay for him to get out of bed.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort said quietly, moving towards him like a cat stalking its prey, about to pounce. He took another step forward, but frowned when he heard a soft thunk. He looked down menacingly.

"Hey!" There was a loud cry from the side. "You hit the Wicket of Awesome Flatulence! That means you have to-"

"Shut up!" someone else hissed.

"Who is there?" Voldemort hissed.

"It is I, the magnificent Spaceman Spiff. FEAR ME!"

"Whatever happened to staying hidden?" the other voice complained.

A short blond boy stepped out from behind a gravestone, his yellow hair proudly defying gravity. He was holding a stuffed tiger. Harry frowned in bemusement. He was sure that he had heard two different voices, but . . .oh well. He had more pressing matters.

"Run!" Harry yelled. "Get out of here while you still can!"

"Never!" the blond midget yelled. "Spaceman Spiff never- AAHHHH!" he jumped behind another gravestone as Voldemort let loose a red bolt of light at him, barely missing him. "Never retreat!" he yelled.

"What is your intention, brat?" Voldemort hissed. "Have you come here only to mock me?"

"Spaceman Spiff doesn't mocks, he only destroys!"

"Then why do you wear the mask?"

Spaceman Spiff's head popped up from behind the gravestone. "Never question the masks," he warned.

At that moment, the air suddenly grew full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. Then one of them fell to his knees, crawling forward toward Voldemort.

"Not now!" the Dark Lord snapped. "Kill him!" he pointed towards the gravestone that the blond midget spaceman had disappeared behind.

"Forgive me lord, but who do you mean?" the one on his knees asked cautiously.

"THAT SPACEMAN SPIFF!"

Harry could almost feel the confused puzzlement coming from the kneeling pureblood terrorist.

"A spaceman? Named Spiff? Lord, are you-" he was cut off by the aforementioned spaceman, who jumped out triumphantly. "FEAR ME, YOU EVIL MUTANT MOTH PEOPLE, FOR I WHILE DESTROY YOU AND DANCE ON YOUR GRAVES!"

"Lucius," Voldemort growled. "Finish him," he gestured at Calvin.

"Of course, my Lord," Lucius said smoothly, bowing his head, his long blond hair glistening in the wand light.

"Egads!" Calvin cried out. "It's a gurl!"

"You take that back, brat!" Lucius hissed.

"Make me!" Calvin taunted him, turning around to wiggle his backside at him.

"With pleasure. Avada kedavra." A bolt of sickly green light flew at the air towards Calvin. An orange and black blur threw itself in front of Calvin, absorbing the deadly verdant bolt.

"Whoa," Harry said, still tied to the gravestone. "Dudley's toys never did that." Everyone else just continued ignoring him.

"Ha!" Calvin said. "The deadly laser glare of the gurl is no match for Spaceman Spiff and his loyal tiger companion!"

"You filthy little muggle," Lucius growled. He lunged at Calvin, but tripped on a wicket, falling to the earth with a surprisingly girlish shriek and hitting his head on a headstone with a crack. Calvin jumped over his comatose body triumphantly.

"HA! Take that, you foul zogwarg!" he yelled, dumping a thermos of ramen noodles that he had just randomly pulled out of his pocket at Lord Voldemort. He sputtered in indignation, reaching up to wipe the noodles off of his face. Calvin took the opportunity to grab Hobbes and run. Voldemort growled menacingly and ordered his death eaters to chase after them. They all rushed off in a crowd, each one vying for the chance to kill the impertinent fool who had the audacity to anger their lord.

Back in the now empty graveyard, Harry Potter was still tied to the stone a few feet from Lucius Malfoy's unconscious body. "Um, what just happened?" he nervously asked the empty air around him. "Seriously, what just happened?"

Calvin ran as fast as he could through the fields surrounding the graveyard while Voldemort and his death eaters chased after him. He jumped a fence and ran through a garden, trampling the plants underfoot. As the death eaters followed him through the field, a few of them lit it on fire. "OH NO!" came a cry from the nearby farm house. "MY CABBAGES!"

The chase continued until Calvin's erratic running managed to lose all the death eaters chasing after him. Eventually he stood by the side of the road, holding Hobbes close to his side. They were both covered with ramen noodles.

"I told you it was a bad idea," Hobbes muttered.

A car drove up, stopping in front of him. His parents came out.

"Calvin, what on earth did you do!" his mom shrieked. Calvin glanced behind him at the burnt and charred cabbage fields. "But mom, it wasn't me, it was the evil snake man and his gurl henchmen!"

She grabbed him by the arm, pulling him towards the car. "Don't give me that story, Calvin. And have you been hitting the cactus juice again? You know you're not supposed to believe what the mushrooms tell you, no matter how friendly they are."

A few hours later, Dumbledore finally managed to locate Harry. He apparated into the graveyard with a crack.

"Harry, my boy, we have reason to believe that Voldemort may be trying to return."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but he already has. Why do you think I'm tied to this headstone?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "I don't know. Your father had unusual hobbies."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't think I want to know. Anyway, I have good news!"

"And what is that, my boy?"

"I've figured out Voldemort's fatal weakness!"

"Well done, my boy! This is indeed a wondrous day. What is it?"

"Noodles."

"Really? I had imagined it being more . . .dramatic or something. Thank you for this important information, my boy. We shall act on it immediately." With that, he apparated away.

"What! Come back here! I'm still tied up!" Harry screamed uselessly. He sighed. "Great. Just great. Now what?"

This was a lot of fun to write.