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Irony And Confusion

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Summary: Slightly cracked YAHF: What happens when too many people wear Voldemort Costumes...

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > General > Humor(Past Donor)chaoseternusFR1311,5615222,85825 May 0825 May 08Yes
This isn't a crackfic, but its certainly a little cracked...
and for the record: I do not own nor do i claim owner ship of characters and / or concepts from buffy the vampire slayer or harry potter
time scale: Halloween episode for BTVS
for HP: after voldemorts return, before Dumbledores death


Irony and Confusion



Ron blinked, “You’re shitting me!”

Hermione shot him a dark look at the swear, but shrugged it off, knowing that getting Ron to stop swearing would be like getting Malfoy to stop being an arse. Might as well wait for the world to end, it would happen sooner.

Especially, she noted to herself, given the kind of trouble the Aurors were always hearing about happening in Sunnydale… after the fact.

“Voldemort has been defeated,”

“Got that part…” Harry half smiled, a bemused expression in his eyes, “just don’t understand the how.”

“I’m not sure myself, it seems a little weird that Voldemort, who survived by splitting his soul into fragments and hiding them could be destroyed by well, his soul being split into more fragments…”

Harry glanced at Ron, and shrugged, “I think you had best start from the top.”

“Of course, well Halloween in Sunnydale and everyone is wearing costumes; unfortunately the owner of the new party dress store has his own plans, tie that in with the mockery Rowling has been making of our lives….”

-----

Ethan was baffled, bemused and more then a little upset. He wanted chaos tonight and yes that meant a little… well, more then a little destruction, devastation and deaths but it required a certain balance to keep things going totally out of control. That is, for every self indulgent bastard, read ‘bad’ guy, there had to be a self righteous bastard, also known as a ‘hero’ to counteract.

There needed to be that element of balance to stop possible world endage or just things spiralling totally out of control. Strange as it might seem, where there was chaos being waged there was always a certain amount of control… like ying and yang; control and chaos had to go together.

Trouble was, the bloody punters weren’t cooperating at all.

Thanks to that Rowling woman and the rather perverse nature of humanity, no doubt emphasised by the nearby hellmouth, everyone wanted one of two costumes…

“I’m sorry; I sold the last Lord Voldemort costume two hours ago.”

“No, the last Tom Riddle outfit went fifteen minutes ago…”

There were now twenty-five different incarnations of the Dark Fart running around and just five of the boy who lived to be self righteous.

Should be fun… not.

Still, he had tried his best to arrange a little equilibrium, even going so far as to hiding a pair of miniaturised one shot muzzle loaders in the Slayers outfit. He was sure she would appreciate that… instant upgrade from ‘worthless’ 18th Century Noble to something a little more interesting…

Still, time was fleeting and soon madness would be taking it toil; that is, assuming he got the incantation right. Where did he write that down to again?

-----

“I want the Weasleys broken; I have had enough of their interference! You will go to Hogwarts, you will retrieve their Daughter and you will…”

“Persona se corpum et sanguium commutandum est. Vestra sancta

praesentia concrescet viscera. Janus! Sume noctem!”


Lucius stepped forward a few minutes later, carefully hiding his dismay, fear, disquiet and a few thousand other responses that would have instantly had him cruico’ed if his master had been in any shape to pay attention.

Voldemort however had stopped speaking mid-sentence and was now drooling over himself, his expression very blank. Blank enough to make Lucius wonder if Voldemort’s mind hadn’t just gone for a walk without his body.

Of course, the Master usually gave them some warning before he did that.

-----

“At which point, it went a little…” Hermione paused, frowning, “insane and surreal.”

“How surreal?”

“Well…” Hermoine grimaced, “I’m still not sure I wasn’t being setup when Dumbledore said this but…”

She took in a deep breathe, “Lord Voldemort saw Lord Voldedmort and naturally thought he was seeing an impostor and attacked, apparently very mad at the very concept of somebody preparing to be him. There were in the middle of a full on dual when a third Lord Voldemort sneaked up behind and shot an avada at the back of the first Lord Voldemort. Unfortunately, number two had already seen him sneaking up and was prepared to defend himself.

The ruckus they were causing was enough to attract the attention of a fourth Lord Voldemort who apparently thought it was his Death Eaters announcing their presence. This fourth Dark Lord saw the fight and pretty pissed off, summoned the Death Eaters…”

“Wait,” Ron asked, a hand resting on his forehead, his expression pained, “how many Voldemorts are we talking about?”

“Fifteen…” they shared incredulous glances, “and ten Tom Riddles.”

“Please tell me they’re all dead…” Harry pleaded.

“Well, yes and no. More of a sorta. You see, the Death Eaters did come but they came prepared for a fight, knowing that their master could not possible have summoned them as they had just left him. Several of the Voldemorts were attacked and thinking treachery; swiftly killed the Death Eaters. Bellatrix and Lucius apparently managed to take out a trio of ‘Lord Voldemorts’ between them before they were killed.”

“Lord Voldemort got them did he?” Harry asked, smiling, then frowned as he brain caught up with his mouth, “err, I mean…”

Hermione shot him a wry look that told him she knew exactly what he meant, “It was at this point that, somewhat disturbed by the extra Voldemorts running around…”

“Does sound a bit like they had been breeding,” Ron interjected, and then stilled his face sliding slowly into a very disturbed frown, “can we pretend I never said that?”

“Gladly, and no it wasn’t Lord Voldemort…” she sighed, “a Lord Voldemort that got them, it was some Blonde….”

-----

Lucius snapped around, wand raised as he slid to one side, cursing the narrowly missing muggle projectiles under his breathe and with a more literal curse on his lips.

Then he heard Bellatrix cry out and knew instantly that those narrowly missing projectiles hadn’t.

He frowned, wand stilled as he gazed upon the beautiful figure of a woman in a classic dress, the tight cut of which emphasised her heaving bosom magnificently, her sweaty face completing the picture nicely and setting a certain part of his anatomy into gear and his wand dropped slightly.

Then he caught sight of the four dead pretenders behind her and his wand rose straight back up again. This one was dangerous. He was intrigued.

“Who are you?”

“Lady Summers, in the Service of the Crown and you sir are in violation of the covenant between the Crown and your kind and as such I hereby declare you and your companion to be a threat to the security of the Kingdom. Goodbye.”

Lucius wasn’t a fool and was already preparing to deflect whatever was thrown at him… which was a pity because the attack came from behind, the knife sliding straight into his heart.

“Idiot,” the Lady Summers said, and cancelled the illusion.

-----

“I’ve never heard of any covenant before,” Harry frowned; Ron just shrugged, agreeing with him.

“Apparently previous Ministers tried their hardest to see that it was forgotten. Right now Fudge is trying to figure out exactly how to cover that back up again…”

“No surprises there then,” Ron sighed, “but that doesn’t explain how Lord Voldemort died.”

“Well, at this point, at least eight fragments of his soul had been destroyed in the bodies of various muggles but now, the remainder decided that it was time to check of the Horcruxes, make sure they were still safe, naturally, they either arrived at the same time and said Horcrux got destroyed in the fight or a Voldemort arrived, saw their Horcrux in the hands of a ‘fake’ and destroyed it to prevent it being used against them… then got into a fight.”

“Wait,” Harry shook his head, “you’re telling me, Voldemort killed himself?”

“Quite a few times too,” Hermoine replied.

“This is giving me a headache,” Ron frowned, “what about the original?”

“Well,” Hermoine shrugged, “when Ethan cast that spell, it reached out for a fragment of Voldemort… it found the piece that was in Voldemort himself and split it twenty-five different ways… what was left inside of the real Voldemort wasn’t enough to sustain life and the fakes quickly dealt with the fragments and the Horcuxes.”

“What about the bewitched muggles?”

“The fragments of Voldemort inside them were destroyed but the Avada’s weren’t aimed at their souls but the fragments of Voldemort so, ironically enough, Voldemort saved the lives of those he was possessing,” Hermione bit back a laugh, “scarheads now, every one of them.”

“Bollocks,” Harry cursed.

“Say, did anyone go as us?” Ron asked.

She nodded, “Five Harry’s, three Ron’s but no one went as me, luckily.”

There was a dry chuckle from behind them, “There was one Hermione…”

The young lady in question groaned, not bothering to ask when he had gotten then and sent Dumbledore a rather frantic ‘shut up’ look, embarrassment hiding in her eyes, “alas, it was a bloke.”

Hermione’s face went red and she swiftly fled the room.

The End

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