Most of these jokes were found online, and only one of them wasn't. It was so bad that I had to put it in, and it was found on a gogurt thing.
I wrote this while I was out of town, and on the plane, because I despise flying.
Written for CrystalAris on FF.
Tuesday, February 27, 1945
Head Dorms
You left me.
Oh, Merlin. The shard was pouting. Tom groaned before he dipped his quill, and wrote.
Eden was still here.
You could have at least warned me before leaving after that wonderful joke.
He groaned. I don't recall ever warning someone, lest of all you before doing whatever I please. He paused. And that joke was most certainly not wonderful.
Says you.
Yes, says me. Anyways, where were we?
Elephants.
He blinked multiple times. Pardon?
We were talking about how good elephants are at hiding in cherry trees.
We have never seen an elephant hide in a cherry tree before.
It's because they paint their nails red.
I have never seen an elephant with red toe nails before.
Where had this complete, and utter nonsense come from?
It's because they're hiding in cherry trees.
Is this another joke that Eden taught you?
I'm sure I don't know what you mean.
If you don't behave, I'm setting you on fire.
Been there, done that. Think of something more original, Tom. Hell, I can set myself on fire. See?
Before he could stop it, the diary was burning on his desk. He rolled his eyes, and doused the flames.
I don't recall being this difficult at your age.
It's a gift.
He pushed away from the desk, and stalked to the other side of the room. As he walked, he had to remind himself that he did love Eden, and that the soul shard was a necessary evil, along with keeping it updated. The clock chimed the hour, and he moved back to the shard.
I believe we were discussing the Triwizard Tournament.
Yes. Do we know who put our darling little one in?
Seething rage echoed in his mind. No. I am searching for ways to bring her back, or take me forward for a time so that I may punish whoever did.
Good.
The diary continued to behave as he updated it, until it decided that behaving was no longer an option.
Can I ask a question?
What is it?
What's the tallest building in the world?
He paused.
That was not what he had been expecting.
I don't know. Are you talking muggle or Wizarding?
I know what it is. Do you want to know?
Eden, what have you done, my love?
I don't particularly care to know.
Too bad. It's the library. Do you want to know why?
Why?
Why, Eden? Why?
Because all of the stories that it has.
The love of his life had created a monster.
Can I ask another question?
Is it a serious question?
It's a very serious question.
Fine.
Why do seagulls fly over the sea?
Fantasies of tearing the diary to small pieces started to fill his mind. I find that I don't particularly care.
You're no fun.
Deal with it. I believe we were talking about dragons.
Yes, and lightning.
He was in the middle of describing how he used Medela Aer Grandis to heal Eden, when the diary started to heat in his hands.
What do you want?
Why do seagulls fly over the sea?
He picked the diary up, and threw it across the room, and shot a blasting curse at it. Fifteen minutes later, he retrieved the object, and opened it to find the question continuously repeated.
He sighed.
Why?
Because if they flew over the bay, they'd be bagels.
He bit his tongue as he began to consider if the diary was still a necessity.
Did you laugh?
No.
Not even a little?
Not even a little.
Oh! I know something that'll make you laugh.
Please no.
What—
Stop. Please.
What do you—
I'm begging you.
—call a dog—
Tom. Please.
—with no legs?
Would killing the diary count as suicide?
Probably.
I don't care.
No. I can feel it. This is the one. What do you call a dog with no legs? It doesn't matter what you call him, he isn't coming.
He slammed his head against the diary. Maybe if he hit his head hard enough, he would forget that the conversation had ever happened.
Did you laugh?
No.
Not even a little?
Didn't they just do that?
Not even a little.
Dammit.
If you want to know about what's going on with Eden, behave.
The diary's temperature spiked, before it rapidly dropped, and Magic Crystals formed on the cover. He sighed fondly before he peeled them off, and placed them in a small crystal vial that was nearly full of the pale, pinkish-purple of the extremely sparkly items.
They were extraordinarily rare, and were only formed by extreme temperature fluctuations caused by Pure Magic.
Once the vial was full, it was going to be given to Eden.
Thank you.
You're no fun.
So I've been told.
Knock-knock.
No.
Knock-knock.
No.
Knock-knock.
NO!
KNOCK-KNOCK.
Fine, you mangy pest. Who's there?
Tank.
He groaned and began to weigh the pros and cons of dousing the object in Fiendfyre. As he wrote, the letters were stiff and block-like.
Tank who?
You're welcome.
He put the quill down and walked away. He began to seriously contemplate either the complete destruction of the shard, or cutting Eden's hands off.
Perhaps he could just spell the diary so she couldn't touch it again. She'd be mad, but she'd still have her hands.
And her love? Hopefully?
Behind him, the diary burst into flames.
One more joke, he wrote, and I promise you will regret it.
Oh, yeah? What will you do?
In short, you'll never speak to Eden again.
That's not fair!
Neither is this torture.
It's not torture!
Yes, it is.
No, it's not. Do you want to know what torture is?
He knew he was going to regret asking.
What?
A turkey crossing the road twice to prove it isn't a chicken.
That was awful.
I came up with it on my own.
You're a failure.
I can't believe you'd insult us that way. We've created two Horcruxes, the first to ever do so.
Point to you. You're still a failure at making jokes.
Let me prove you wrong.
You're just going to use the jokes that Eden taught you, and take credit for them.
You'll never know.
I'll ask her, idiot.
Yes, but you won't know until she gets there in the morning.
Fine. Prove me wrong. And we both know how rare that is.
Why do mermaids wear seashells?
Eden most definitely taught him that joke. Why?
Because B-shells are too small, and D-shells are too big.
He groaned. Atrocious.
Why can't your nose be 12 inches long?
Merlin, help him.
Why not?
Because then it would be a foot.
Where was his dagger? Death needed to occur.
Pathetic.
What did the right eye say to the left eye?
What?
Between you and me, something smells.
Painful.
What do you call a bear at the beach?
If you say gummy bear, so help me—
Lost.
He paused.
You came up with that one, didn't you?
How could you tell?
He snorted in amusement. It was worse than the others.
Rude.
Pathetic.
Wimp.
He rolled his eyes. Do not tempt Lord Voldemort more than you already have.
Oh, I'm so scared. Someone save me from the maniac speaking in third person.
Which do you think would be more painful? Venom, or Fiendfyre?
Penguins.
He drew back and blinked. What?
Penguins will be more painful.
How?
They sing 'freeze a jolly good fellow' for birthdays. That would definitely be more painful.
He groaned, and wondered when the torture would end. You have a point. Unfortunately.
The diary heated before it rapidly cooled. He pried the Crystals off, and the object repeated the action many more times.
It was celebrating.
You still haven't made me laugh. I don't know why you're cheering.
My grandfather has the heart of a lion—
Our grandfather was a Slytherin.
Let me finish, fool. Our grandfather has the heart of a lion, and a lifetime ban from the local zoo.
He sucked his lips into his mouth, and bit down hard. He covered his mouth, and breathed deeply.
You're laughing, aren't you?
He shook his head. I'm not.
Are you sure?
I'm sure.
I don't believe you.
I will admit it was mildly amusing.
Oh! I know!
No more.
Even people who are good for nothing have the capacity to bring a genuine smile to your face.
How the hell do useless sheep accomplish only what Eden is capable of?
You'll smile when you push them down the stairs. You'll grin when it's two flights of stairs, and you'll laugh when it's off of the Astronomy Tower.
Tom snorted, and laughter bubbled out of him. He laughed, and laughed until he couldn't breathe, and then he laughed some more.
By the time he got a hold of himself, the diary was heavy with Crystals, and they were the largest that he had collected so far. It took twenty minutes to pry the whole Crystals off, and that was because more kept forming.
We now have a full vial of Crystals, and then some. Probably enough for one or two more.
You were laughing.
Yes.
I told you I'm good at making jokes. I just had to feel you out first.
We'll see.
Wednesday, February 28, 1945
Head Dorms
"Eden?"
She looked at him and smiled. "Yes, love?"
His heart warmed, and he wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her softly. "Did you teach the diary the stair joke?"
Her head tilted to the side, and her left brow furrowed. "No. I didn't teach him any stair jokes. Why?"
He really came up with that joke on his own. "He just made me laugh last night."
She smiled, and his heart thudded. "I'm glad. Mordred knows all of the jokes I taught him. He's been trying to create his own from them for about a year now. I'm pleased he finally made one that made you laugh."
He tightened his grip on her, and kissed her deeply. "I Promise you, Eden, if you teach him anymore jokes, I'm spelling it so you can't write in him anymore."
She pouted, and he kissed the pout away. "Fine. But, you have to admit that they were funny."
"I will admit no such thing."