Harry slowly removed his robes as he prepared to enter the steaming-hot bath. Exhausted after another wild session in Ron's bedroom, he was longing to lie back in the foaming water and relax. He lazily twisted a golden tap and a shimmering plume of strawberry-scented bubbles spiralled out. When he lay back, he found that they were strong enough to be used as a cushion, and much more comfortable than Ron's lumpy mattress.

Harry spent about half an hour in a state of relaxed contentment. He was just beginning to drift off to sleep when the candle above him was suddenly extinguished, startling him. As he gazed in horror, his phobia of darkness overwhelming him, the flames flickering in the other torch brackets lining the walls of the bathroom rapidly guttered and died. A spider-web of darkness bloomed across the vermillion ceiling, until the entire bathroom was plunged into complete blackness. The silence that fell was so intense that the pounding of Harry's heart sounded like thunder. He crouched, tensed and expectant.

"Abra kadabra!"

The terrifying, high-pitched voice ripped through the darkness like a bolt of lightning as Harry saw the green glow of a wand appear in front of his face. "Dude, if you're trying to kill me, you might as well use the real curse, and not the stupid Muggle version," Harry sighed. After a few seconds while his undersized brain processed this information, he jumped up, shaking. "Wait a sec… SOMEONE'S TRYING TO KILL ME?!"

"Yes- that's right!" cackled the voice, as the man who had haunted Harry's nightmares for five years emerged from the gloom. Voldemort's chalk-white face was eerily illuminated by the light of his wand. There was a manic gleam in his red, snake-like eyes, and his thin lips were stretched into a grim smile.

Petrified, Harry stared as the Dark Lord advanced steadily through the clouds of rosy bubbles. However, as he began to recover from his initial shock, a rare event occurred- a notion flashed across his brain (or what was left of it). As he twisted the knob of the golden tap again, a thick cloud of pink bubbles shot straight into the Voldemort's face! Suddenly, the man who seconds before had been advancing with a triumphant grin on his face was now groping blindly, squealing.

Harry, delighted at having eluded imminent death once again, chuckled. However, his mirth soon turned to terror again as he realised that although Voldemort's vision had been obscured, his hearing had not. He now inched backwards, fear coursing through his veins, and closed his eyes as Voldemort staggered towards him, wand extended…

The petrified silence that followed was broken seconds later by a splash, followed by some peculiar gurgling noises. Tentatively squinting at the source of the commotion, Harry saw an amusing scene in front of him: Voldemort, in his temporary blindness, had tripped over the side of the bathtub, and was now floundering desperately in the steaming water, a furious expression on his face. As he struggled to regain his balance, Harry noticed something that took his breath away: the water had caused Voldemort's robes to cling tightly and smoothly to his thin frame. He had never realised before how slender the Dark Lord's body was.

Unaware of the explosion that had occurred in Harry's heart, Voldemort was still choking and attempting to climb out of the bath. "When I'm out of this bath, Harry Potter," he spluttered, "you're- going- to- regret-"

"Wait, Voldey," Harry interrupted, momentarily at the name that had slipped out of his lips. "Why don't you stay here in the bath… with me?"

It took him a few seconds to register what Harry had just asked him. Then, Harry saw that under Voldemort's skin-tight robes, a certain part of his lower anatomy had become hard and erect.

Energised suddenly by a rush of lust, Harry blindly tugged at the hem of Voldey's robes. "No, you fool!" Voldemort cried. "I've been hanging around with a bunch of those gay Death Eaters for ages, do you really think I'd make it that easy for one of them to take off my cloak?! No, look- there's a secret zip hidden in the seam just below my waist. No, no, don't use your hands." Harry detached his eager fingers from the zip that he had just found. "You can't undo it unless… you use your teeth."

"With pleasure," Harry replied, baring his yellow teeth like a tiger. Soon, both Voldey and Harry's robes lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, and their arms were both clasped tightly around each other's waists, eyes closed in rapture. With ease, Voldey slipped inside his once arch-nemesis, smiling hungrily.