Content Harry Potter Miscellaneous


darthloki posted a comment on Sunday 19th October 2008 1:35pm for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

Voldie was a Muggle's son,
But Voldie is no more.
What Voldie thought was H2O
Was H2SO4.


Sadly, I found that funniest of the lot.

ShadeHawk posted a comment on Tuesday 7th October 2008 7:27pm for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

Not actually a death, but it is a method for Voldemort to loose. Namely Harry Potter using Hand of Flesh (one of hands of power from Merry Gentry urban fantasy series by Laurell K. Hamilton) on Voldemort. Becoming ball of flesh (being turned inside out) would seriously cramp Voldemort plans.

Well, either Harry Potter as having some Sidhe blood, or perhaps his "fae" godmother Princess Meredith NicEssus, Child of Peace, Besaba's Bane, Princess of Flesh and Blood.

Minerva Granger posted a comment on Wednesday 1st October 2008 2:14pm for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

Okay, I don't know if you'll understand this one, but I thought it was funny. Full marks to anyone who can identify the actual people in this, as well as apologies, because some may wish to strangle me.

"For the love of GOD, Tom," Judith muttered, frustratedly, "How many itmes must I tell you NOT to interrupt me when I'm working my way through a new arrangement?!" The Dark Lord didn't even have time to wonder how the young woman in fromt of him knew his name, before a large, round steel thing, hollow,but with jangly things attatched, came crashing down on his head, killing him instantly.

"What happened, Jude?" A young man had stuck his head around the door, worried by the sudden explosion of temper. After all, his colleague was usually peaceful unless seriously provoked.

"Um, folks? You may want to see this." The brown-haired man called, attracting the attention of a small group of others.

"Tom's been with us for the last half-hour, Jude. We're all wroking on the new arrangement, and everyone knows not to interrupt another's concentration..." Another man was speaking, confusedly. Blue eyes widened behind behind heavy black-rimmed glasses, before the older man walked out of the room, heading for the nearest fireplace.

"Albus? Good news, and strange news. Firstly, your up and coming Dark Lord is no longer a problem. However, there is only one epitaph possible under the circumstances." Athol was interrupted by one of his younger male colleagues. "We keep TELLING you Jude's dangerous with a tambourine!" He called, laughing. "Now you've got incontroveritble proof, along with one thoroughly dead Dark Lord."

Again, full marks to anyone who works this one out. SOrry it's so stupid.

Crys replied:

Sorry, don't recognize the reference

ShadeHawk posted a comment on Sunday 28th September 2008 5:09am for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

I have just read Natural Enemy by Manchester on Twisting the Hellmouth site, and in Author Notes at the end of this one-shot fic there is the following:

Author's Note: Came up with this while reading a very funny site called "1001 Deaths of Lord Voldemort"

Crys replied:

Huh.   Well, I'm not upset by it.   He doesn't take credit for the idea.

Thanks for pointing it out to me.   I'm glad my ideas can be used by other authors.

Minerva Granger posted a comment on Wednesday 24th September 2008 5:05pm for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

Re 247: Isn't that Sulphuric Acid? Ingenious way of killing a Dark Lord, muggle Chemistry.

misterq posted a comment on Monday 22nd September 2008 2:57pm for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

Ahh, here's another one..


Everyone had their specialty in the magical world, but only recently did Hermione find in an ancient book a way to gleam where each person's talents lay. A spell and a simple potion later, Harry was found to, unsurprisingly with the way he took to flying, have a moderate affinity for air. That meant that with practice, he would be able to make a much stronger levitation and summoning/banishing charms, but would never be able to fly without a broom like some true masters of air.

Ron had a very mild affinity for water. It helped make his thoughts more fluid enabling generation of quick strategies on the fly.

Neville's was a rarer affinity, but it surprised no one that he was a moderatly high floramancer, a combination of water and earth specialties that let his manipulate plants to a great degree. With a few years of practice, he could bind a devil's snare to his will and use it like a mass of living whips.

Luna also had a rare affinity. She was a mild chronomancer. While she would never be able to slow or stop time in an area, she did get glimpses of the future now and again.

Hermione's turn took the longest to make the words appear on the scroll. Eventually they appeared. She was an extreme level papyromancer. Within a few weeks, she could control paper to a very great degree and even absorb all the knowledge in a book just from one touch.

Which was why she was racing as fast as she could go towards the Hogwarts' library during Voldemort's main offensive against the school, barely managing to stay ahead of two death eaters. Dodging spells more by luck than anything else, the bushy-haired girl dove through the broken door and into her favorite room.

The two death eaters slowed to a stop when they saw Hermione standing in the middle of a whirlwind of books. One tried to curse her, but the spell was easily intercepted by a tome. And the destruction of a book also had the benefit of making the girl angry.

All the books exploded in a tornado of loose, razor-sharp parchment. No pieces larger than a plum were ever found of the death eaters.

Outside, all action stopped as Hermione, still in a sphere of books and paper, floated out of a window and next to Harry and Ron.

"Don't worry, Harry. The bookworm is coming." She said with a smile.

"What do you mean, Hermione?" Ron asked, "You're already here."

"Not me, silly." The girl said with a smile as the ground began to shake.

"What is this?" Voldemort demanded.

"The bookworm." Hermione smirked.

And then it burst out of the ground. Composed of seemingly every book and paper in Hogwarts, a massive worm-like beast three hundred feet long and looking like its namesake from the Dune series towered in the air for a moment - before slamming its massive body into the Dark Lord with a shock wave that knocked everyone except Hermione off their feet.

Crys replied:

Used this one, too.

Aelfwine posted a comment on Sunday 14th September 2008 6:18am for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

Sorry, but I really should've sat on that last one for a couple of days and edited it over again. Mind substituting this version instead?

Even in her first year at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger was thought likely the brightest Witch of her age. In a kinder and more just society, this would have continued to be the case after the irreversable accident with Polyjuice in her Second Year.

In Wizarding Britain, however, Hermione the Catgirl was considered not a Witch, but a Creature. Release to her Muggle parents was right out, risking the end of Wizarding Secrecy. Release on a reservation for magical creatures was also out--how would the poor girl survive, living rough in the Forbidden Forest?

Unfortunately, the law required that Hermione be registered as a pet, the property of some Wizard or Witch. Professor Minerva McGonagall, Hermione's Head of House, might have claimed her, but that strictly moral Witch was uncomfortable keeping a student as a pet, especially in light of Hogwarts' rule that all pets, other than owls and toads, should sleep in their owners' beds. Her friend Ron Weasley might have wished to take on the responsibility, but his mother wouldn't hear of it. So, by default, Hermione became the pet of her other best friend, Harry Potter.

This was awkward, of course. Harry and Hermione were only twelve years old, and twelve is an awkward age for anyone, let alone a girl who has suddenly gone from being a student, required to wear school robes, to being a pet, required to wear a collar with a tag, or a boy who has suddenly gone from having a best friend who is a girl to having a pet who, on top of being both a girl and his best friend, must sleep in his bed every night.

But Harry and Hermione adjusted. Harry insisted that Hermione would continue to attend class, even if she were forced to sit in his lap when a seat was not provided her. Hermione's enthusiasm for learning was infectious, and soon Harry had learnt to enjoy revising with his pet as much as other pet-owners might enjoy playing with their own.

Ron, jealous of Harry and Hermione's increased closeness, drifted away from the pair. But Harry and Hermione built a new and stronger friendship with Ron's sister Ginny and her childhood friend, Luna Lovegood. The combination of Hermione's keen intellect and feline senses with Luna's intuition and empathy allowed them to recognise Ginny's life-threatening relationship with the cursed diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle, called Lord Voldemort. Once Ginny was freed of Riddle's malign influence, Harry used his Parseltongue ability to communicate with the basilisk which had served as Riddle's weapon. Soon the great snake-creature had become a loyal friend who gladly destroyed Riddle's diary.

As for Hermione sleeping in Harry's bed, what began as an awkward necessity, with the two sleeping fully dressed and as far apart as the fourposter bed would allow, soon became a welcome comfort. Within a few weeks, boy and catgirl alike had reverted to pyjamas and slept nestled together like spoons, with Harry's nose buried in Hermione's bushy hair and Hermione's tail wrapped about Harry's leg.

As the end of term neared, Hermione and Luna combined their gifts once more, revealing Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, as the Animagus Peter Pettigrew, once a friend of Harry's parents. As Pettigrew had long been thought to have died bravely at the hands of their close friend and alleged betrayer, Sirius Black, his capture led to Sirius' release from Azkaban Prison. Harry's birthday at the end of that July would prove the best of his thirteen years, spent in his godfather's home with his friends and his very own beloved catgirl.

Five years later, Harry Potter-Black, Sirius' adopted son and heir, was Head Boy of Hogwarts. Despite his youth, he was already one of the foremost captains of the Light. As Adjunct Instructor in Dueling and Defense Against the Dark Arts, he had played a key role in designing the curriculum that made almost every upper year student the equal of an Auror. Every Death Eater attack in the past two years had resulted in fatalities, most of them on the Dark Lord's side.

Hogsmeade at the weekend now resembled a camp of war, with many townsfolk and all students in Fourth Year and up carrying not only wands but swords and light polearms. Hogwarts uniform now included the option of chainmail or scale armour, and the recent fashion for fur cloaks gave the scene an almost Viking look.

Or perhaps it was appropriate to strike the "almost," Harry thought, seeing Ron Weasley, laughing and mock-struggling, carried off to Madam Puddifoot's on the shoulder of his girlfriend, Millicent Bulstrode, who had coloured her waistlength hair blonde and was currently wearing it in two plaits.

"Would you wish for us to do that with you, Harry?" Luna said.

"Not here, please," Harry said. "There's a war on, and I do have an image to hold up."

"So," Ginny said, "you're telling us that once we've won the war, we'll have your permission to domme you in public? It's not as if Luna and I needed any more motivation to kill Death Eaters, but thanks all the same."

"I'm not sure I can let you do that to my master," Hermione said. "You may be his fiancées, but I am his pet. The dignity of one's master is very important in catgirl society. You wouldn't want me to lose face, would you?"

"Of course not, darling," Ginny said. "We love you as much as we love Harry, you know that. Maybe more so, considering that you never leave the toilet seat up."

"Miaooww," Hermione said, apparently overcome with emotion. She blushed. "That means ‘I love you.'"

"Not ‘Give me more cream'?" Luna said.

"No, that's ‘Miaaaow.' They're very similar, but not identical. It's all about the rising and falling tones and the vowel-lengths, you see."

"Enough, pussycat," said a cruel voice, and Hermione was seized, with an arm around her throat and a wand pointed at her head. "So sorry to interrupt your little lecture."

Hermione yowled and clawed at him. Voldemort's arm tightened on her throat. "Behave, you stupid animal."

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, called Lord Voldemort," Harry said, "this is between the two of us. Let go of Hermione. Now." Students and Hogsmeade townsfolk gathered round. "Stay back, good people," Harry shouted. They made a silent circle, weapons ready.

"And why should I do that, Potter? Crabbe and Malfoy died this morning, in a raid on a Muggle primary school. They were beaten to death with a cricket bat, of all things, by some ridiculous little half-caste boy named Sampson."

"You, Tom, of all people, should be the last to insult someone's mixed parentage. Good on young Mister Sampson! Muggle or not, I'll see to it that he gets the bounty for them."

"They were my last followers, Potter. So, what else is there for me to do but take down the Golden Boy of the Light, his disgusting half-animal concubine, and the shameless harlots he calls his fiancées?"

"What is it with you, Tom?" Ginny said. "Are you jealous cos your parts fell off or something? I mean, we don't say anything about the things you used to do with Malfoy and the brothers Lestrange and your pet snake, do we?" Voldemort cleared his throat and spat. The sputum sizzled where it hit the ground, a bit short of Ginny's foot. She stuck out her tongue at him.

"All right, Tom," Harry said. "Let Hermione go, and I'll face you. Wizard to Wizard, all proper-like and everything."

"Drop your wand, Potter," Voldemort said.

"No!" Hermione said. "Don't trust him, Harry! He'll only kill all of us."

"Better that than us losing you, Hermione," Ginny said. "Whatever your papers say, I'm marrying you just as much as I'm marrying Harry and Luna."

Voldemort snickered. "How--cough--sweet." He sneezed. "I wish I could establish a reserve for your kind, really. And a captive breeding programme. Such disgustingly soppy and stupid creatures might make useful potions ingredients."

"Please, Master, don't!" Hermione cried. "Have lots of kittens, my loves, and I'll see you three a hundred years from now."

"Drop your wand, Potter," Voldemort said. "This is getting--hack--tiresome." Hermione hissed. "All right, you stupid beast," he said, "time to put you down. Av—-sneeze!" He sneezed, and sneezed again. His wand wavered, then swung away. Hermione broke loose and ran to her lovers. She drew her wand--legally it was Harry's spare wand which his pet carried for him--and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with them.

Voldemort, meanwhile, was still sneezing. His pale quasi-reptilian face and head were almost entirely covered in large red lumps. He dropped to his knees. Blood spouted from his mouth and nostril-slits, spattering the ground. He fell on his face and lay still. Finally, his body disintegrated, leaving a pile of black robes and ugly off-white glop.

There was a long, stunned pause. Then Harry grabbed Hermione in his arms and hugged her tightly. "My darling Hermione!" he shouted. "The most brilliant catgirl of her age! And the power the Dark Lord knew not!"

Ginny and Luna hugged them both. "Well done, my love," Ginny said, and kissed her.

"But... what did I do?" Hermione said.

"Think about it, sweet," Luna said.

"You mean... no, that can't be right. It can't be!"

"I'm afraid it is," Harry said. "Apparently Voldemort was allergic to catgirls."
Footnote: Young Mr. Sampson is a descendent of Bill Sampson, the Wolf of Kabul.

Crys replied:

Thanks.   Last part of the scene added to the next chapter.

I'm saving the idea, too.   May end up turning that bunny (permanent cat-girl Hermione) into a short story.   Thank you!

Jake Grey posted a comment on Monday 8th September 2008 11:08am for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

Here's one based, loosely, on something I came up with as a fanfic of Whydoyouneedtoknow's stuff:

Voldemort blew the front door of Godric's Hollow clean off it's hinges and strode inside, failing to notice the slight bulge under the doormat. And the length of wire running towards a cardboard box under the hall table. This was highly unfortunate, as the bulge was a pressure switch, and the cardboard box contained four sticks of dynamite and twenty pounds of roofing nails.

James and Peter cautiously peered out from behind a nearby Volvo and regarded their handiwork with satisfaction. "You do realise that this was the easy part, of course," Prongs remarked dryly. "Lily was rather fond of some of that furniture."

Crys replied:

Thanks.   Scene added to the next chapter.

misterq posted a comment on Thursday 4th September 2008 9:29am for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

Gah, one more.


Harry remembered second year, and Hermione told him what Madam Pomphry did to change her back from her catgirl form. Still, he had no idea how he would be able to defeat Voldemort and his massive army without something special. So with only a little hesitation, he tiped back the vial of polyjuice with the phoenix feather, basilisk scale fragment, cerberus fur, and piece of dragon claw all in it.

The massive flying, three-headed, teleporting, poisonous, fire-breathing, feathered-serpent with eye beams that could also cast magic did manage to even out the scales for the light side very quickly.

And even though Haryr Potter was never able to change back to his human form, he still became England's best, and first amalgamated monstrocity as, Minister of Magic.

Crys replied:

This one used, too

misterq posted a comment on Thursday 4th September 2008 8:25am for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

These plot bunnies spawned by your great idea just won't leave me alone, always gnawing at my brain! So here's some more.


"It's just a bunny. A white, fluffy rabbit. Totally harmless!" said Voldemort, ignoring Snape's warnings of a creature with big sharp pointy teeth.


"What are you?" The dark lord asked a hovering Harry Potter.

"Well, I got the idea from this television show about how some teenagers got temporarily turned into their costumes. So I dressed up as Merlin, the half-vampire ninja, who also happens to be a star athlete and a world famous rock n' roll singer. Oh and he was also a Highlander and a Time Lord that was adopted when, as a baby, he escaped the destruction of his real home of Krypton."

After hearing this, Voldemort's head promptly exploded from the sheer weight of all the Mary Sue-isms.


"Who knew that magic would make subliminal hypnotic suggestions that effective?" asked an impressed Hermione as Harry sent the modified howler off to Voldemort. "Do you think he will actually destroy all his horocruxes and kill himself off?"

Harry Potter just looked at where Dumbledore and Snape happily played patty-cakes while the rest of the Hogwarts population danced around them in a giant conga line to Harry Belafonte's 'Day-O' song. "Uh, yeah. I think he will."


Voldemort stood up in his new body, and promptly exploded as a chemistry minded Harry Potter wandlessly conjured a large chunk of cesium inside the remaining liquid.


Quirrel/Voldemort turned to an unsurpised, almost eager Harry Potter as he entered the chamber with the mirror of erised.

"All right! Final boss level!" Harry exclaimed, adding, "Hadouken!"


"What are you working on, Harry?" asked Ron.

"Magical rail cannon."

"Rail cannon? Is that something for a train?"

"It fires a cube of iron at twenty times the speed of sound," Harry said. "No shield, magical or otherwise, can stop it. And it's accurate at over two miles. More with the Dark Lord-seeking guidance system.

"Why would a train need that?"

"Go back to talking about chess and quidditch, Ron."


"I wish for power!" Voldemort said to the Djinn. When he opened his eyes, he saw a strange landscape with odd-shaped hills that had eyes on them. Actually everything had eyes. The brown grumbling mushroom people, the turtle-thing riding a cloud. The cloud the turtle-thing was riding. The large venus flytrap-like plant coming out of an enormous pipe. The hovering blocks. The sun. All of them had eyes.

The floating green mushroom that passed a very confused Voldemort did not have eyes. It did have a tiny plumber in red overalls that was chasing it, though. And when the plumber caught and ate the mushroom, he grew in size until he was normal.

"What the hell?" Exclaimed Voldemort, right before said plumber jumped impossibly high and landed on the Dark Lord's head.


Voldemort kicked at the ridiculous short yellow mouse-thing that Harry had summoned somehow by accident.

Pikachu expressed his displeasure at being kicked with a massive thunderbolt attack.


Harry Potter and his friends crouched near the top of a green hill behind a crumbling stone wall. They were gazing at a small mansion that was also crumbling. Said mansion could have once been called glorious, perhaps even decadent, but years of little to no maintenance had their effect. All of which led up to the current day, when it was finally being used as the temporary base for Voldemort and his Deatheaters.

"Months of waiting and it finally paid off. And I have to owe it all to Hermione, the Girl-Who-Figured-Out-The-Prophesy." Harry told his now blushing companion.

"It wasn't all that much." She said.

Ron spoke up, "Oh, stop being so modest. I know I for one would have never caught the real meaning."

"Well, you guys did round up all the horocruxes and stashed them in the basement." She replied.

"It wasn't hard with the invisibility cloak and the fact that Ron had a professional cursebreaker in the family. You were the one who listened to Trelawney repeat that bloody thing in the pensive over and over until you caught it." Harry said, pulling out a little box from his pocket. "You want to do the honors?"

The bushy haired witch shook her head. "It has to be you. That would make the prophecy come true, and besides… what he did to your parents. What he did to your life."

Hermione just opened the box to reveal the silver switch and red button. She flipped the switch, causing a red LED light to turn on and pushed the box back to Harry. "All I did was spot the pause. The fact that Sybill wasn't actually saying, 'but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not'. She was saying, 'but he will have the power. The Dark Lord knows Nott.'. Now you have the power, meaning all the C4 we snuck into Nott's mansion's basement - time to end it."

Harry looked at her for a moment, then at the box. He nodded once, and then pressed down on the button of the detonator.


- misterq

Crys replied:

Huh.   I managed to lose this e-mail.   I'm going to save that last one and use it next time.

ShadeHawk posted a comment on Wednesday 3rd September 2008 9:27pm for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

I'm sorry for screwing up formatting of earlier comments again due to not closed (wrongly closed) BBCode tag.

There really should be some validation (tags are replaced only if they are in pairs), or at least preview.

Crys replied:

Don't worry about it.   I understood what you were trying to say.

The code running this site was written by Jeconais for free, so any relatively minor issues like this fall into the "you're not paying the coder, so don't complain" category.

ShadeHawk posted a comment on Wednesday 3rd September 2008 9:24pm for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

The 350. plot bunny (based on "Undertakes" sketch by Monthy Python) reminds me a bit of 'next door' one-shot fic Who You Gonna Call? by whydoyouneedtoknow[/url]

misterq posted a comment on Wednesday 3rd September 2008 11:07am for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty


I couldn't help but think of ficlets as I read this. So... here you go, a whole cage full of plot bunnies if you want to use them. Great job!

Argus Filtch reread the kwik-spell manual and waved his new mail-order wand with no results again.

"What am I doing wrong? This is the spell that turns anything into a massive rhinoceros!" Filtch screamed in frustration before starting to wave his wand in increasingly viscous movements.

"What!" Wave. Nothing.

"Am!" Wave. Nothing.

"I!" Wave. Nothing.

"Doing!" Jerky wave. Nothing.

"WRONG!?!" Putting all his emotions, all of the frustration of working year after year in a school where children took for granted their precious gifts of magic while he could only look on helplessly, Filtch actually amplified his weak squib core to get out the only spell he would ever cast.

The blue beam flew right out of his open window, right over the final battle. Right into a fluttering butterfly hovering thirty feet above a gloating Voldemort.


Sneaking into Snape's office under the invisibility cloak, Hermione cast the space expansion charm on the potion professor's pocket. Harry nodded and placed the creature he had unofficially purchased from the Ministry. After Arthur told him about it, he had managed to meet with the head of the magical creature department, and a thousand galleons later, the creature was his. Hermione came up with the spells and enchantments that would make it much more effective. It would be the perfect gift for Voldemort and his Death Eaters, Harry thought with a grin.

And in the next meeting Voldemort called, the Dark Lord and all his Death Eaters were stunned, when in the middle of giving orders, Snape's robes suddenly started making a clucking noise. Right before disgorging a normal looking chicken from his pocket. The chicken spread her wings and started flapping, stunning everyone further as it gracefully rose into the air.

They were even more surprised at the dragon-like thirty-five foot gout of burning napalm that the chicken started spewing all over everything and everyone.


"You know, Harry, you've gotten really good at that Accio spell." Hermione said.

"That's true." Ron piped in, "I bet you could even, I don't know, summon all the death eaters' magical cores if you really wanted to."

Harry stared at his friend for a few seconds open-mouthed, before looking down at his wand.


Voldemort managed to chase Harry and corner him on a curvy mountainous road.

"Any last words, Pott.." Voldemort managed to say before the large tour bus turned the corner and ran over the dark wizard that was standing in the middle of the street.

Harry quickly vanished the remains of his foe as Huey Lewis and the News' vehicle came to a stop to investigate.

"Power of love, indeed." Harry said with a smile.


It's funny the things you remember when in a life or death situation. Here he was, about to 'duel' Voldemort, and the only thing Harry could think of was reading his old science book in primary school. The part about how antimatter is the same as normal matter, but the charges of electrons and protons are reversed. That's all. And a chunk of anti-matter the size of a loaf of bread could completely destroy a city. So if magic can turn a spoon into an elephant, why can't it reverse the polarity in a chunk of matter the size of a pea.

Voldemort only had a split second to smile as Harry's spell seemed to clumsily miss him by a wide margin and hit the ground a few feet behind him. Then there was a flash of white.


It didn't look too difficult. Some bones, some blood. The things in the cauldron were probably the chemicals that could make a body. That he could transfigure. Harry stared as the foggy forms of his parents urged him to run, but he wasn't listening.

Transfiguration wasn't too difficult. Harry magically apperated a little bit of blood and flesh out of his body through will power alone. Besides, he didn't need his appendix anyways. Soon, the physical bodies of his parents were lying at his feet clothed in robes. His parents' spirits looked on their son with increasing horror. Even Voldemort looked on with interest as the distracted boy kept raking his thoughts for the next step.

Now, just a spell that would permanently bind souls into bodies. Harry didn't know of such a thing, but if he could get all this way on will power alone, then he could make up a spell. And concentrating every iota of his willpower on getting spirits back into bodies, Harry raised his wand and shouted, "Resurrectus!"

Lily and James Potter's eyes opened with a gasp. They were back, and their new bodies felt great. Harry, however looked nervous. "Mom, Dad. Grab a hold of me."

The Potters clutched one another. Harry tuned back to a stunned Voldemort. "Um, Mr. Voldemort, sir. I hope you like zombie movies. You're about to star in one. I just cast an over powered resurrection spell in the middle of a graveyard. Accio trophy."

Harry and his parents disappeared in a flash as Voldemort looked around stunned as decrepit hands started to burst out of ground. He tried to leave, but forgot about the anti-apperate wards Wormtail cast that only wormtail could take down quickly. And ironically, the pudgy former-marauder was the last to be ripped apart by the animated corpses.


Harry had the idea ever since he noticed that a switching charm didn't come out as a beam. So it was with some anti-climactic surprise that in the starting minute of the final battle, Voldemort's brain suddenly switched places with a dead squirrel.


'Hey, it worked in that video game Dudley was playing,' Harry thought to himself, 'I can't think of anything else to try.'

And as Voldemort gloated over an injured Harry Potter, said boy raised his wand high in the air and incanted, "Meteo!"


'Hey, it worked in that Japanese cartoon Dudley was watching,' Harry thought to himself, 'I can't think of anything else to try.'

And as Voldemort gloated over an injured Harry Potter, said boy raised his wand high in the air and incanted, "Darkness beyond twilight, crimson beyond blood that flows..."


Harry Potter opened the briefcase he brought with him into the final battle.
As he watched the carnage, the boy-who-lived thought, 'It's amazing what happens when you mix the charms to make a bludger and Dobby's guidance spell to target Voldemort and his Death Munchers with a few hundred madly whirling rotary saw blades.


Harry saw the green killing curse heading his way at the same time he saw his loyal owl swoop to intercept. Frantic, not wanting to loose one of his few precious friends, Harry cast the first spell that came to mind.

Hedwig dived madly at the green spell to save her nestling wizard. The next thing she heard was a loud 'engorgio!'. Cautiously, she opened her eyes to see everything from a great height. For some reason, she wasn't falling even though her wings were not open. In fact, it looked like she was standing on the ground, cracks spreading from where her massive taloned feet were casually dug into the concrete of the street. When she saw the remains of one of her feathers, the target of the killing curse, float down onto the street; the forty foot tall Hedwig suddenly glared at the tiny Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

She soon found that they were all much tastier than the usual mice and rats she hunted for.


Harry Potter, 15 months old, stared at the unpleasant looking man that was threatening his mother. This didn't please the infant at all. Thinking back to the incident one week ago with the unattended stove, Harry remembered getting burnt when he put his hand into the open flame while his parents were otherwise occupied with a floo call from a long-bearded wizard. But unlike a typical toddler, Harry didn't cry out. He was confused.

Why did the fire hurt him? All he wanted to do was be friends with the happily dancing flames. He tried to pet it like Padfoot seemed to like, but the fire bit him instead. Slowly, Harry started to inch his hand to the temperamental fire; whispering to it how he wanted to be friends and he would not want to hurt it.

Putting all of his thoughts and emotions to the task, Harry's magic responded. It flowed to the flame and gave it life, of a sort. The flames understood. And they wanted to play with the human boy, too. It surged out and formed shapes and animals to the delight of Harry. It healed his hand and, instead of burning, it felt ticklishly warm. The young Potter laughed as never before.

And even after that day, he could make the flames come out whenever he was feeling lonely. Shapes of animals and fiery sprites danced around him and played games only he knew of. It lifted him up and let him fly around the room at his discretion. The fire cheered him when he was sad and laughed along when the boy was happy.

Currently, Harry Potter was angry. Very angry. And so was the friend-fire.


Wormtail didn't trust himself to make his Master's resurrection potion. Fortunately, he managed to sneak into Hogwarts and snag the student that Severus Snape was always raving about. A little persuasion at wand-point and all was well.

A shocked Nevile Longbottom stared first at the long scroll of instructions and then back to the large cauldron in front of him. A large single bead of sweat appeared on his forehead.


Voldemort was just about to address his followers when Snape's cloak started shifting oddly. It jerked left, then right - much to the confusion of its wearer. But then, both the sleeping charms and glamor spells on the disguised mass of lethifolds wore off and there was only screaming and enveloping darkness.


They didn't allow anyone who wasn't an auror to look, much less photograph the gruesome site of the old Riddle house. A greenish tinted Tonks stumbled into the Order's headquarters to give her report intermixed with dry heaves. Anything that was originally in her stomach was long gone at that point. But that just served as confirmation to two of the temporary residents at Grimmauld Drive.

"Inside-out gas a complete success, Forge!"

"High Fives all around, Gred!"


"It wasn't too hard, Harry. A little bit of technology and a lot of magic. Mostly transfiguration, but a good bit of rune work."

"Still, if anyone could have done it, it would be you, Hermione."

"Here you go, Harry. The coordinates are already locked on. And it is your prophesy after all. Plus, if it wasn't for you never having seen a James Bond film, I would never have dragged you to that marathon."

"Oh, all right. Just push that button?"

"Yes, Harry. The big red, candy-like one."

"Alright, there we go."

And miles above in geocentric orbit, a large satellite with many notice-me-not wards blasted loose a reducto beam the width of a tanker truck down towards Riddle manor.


Voldemort thought it was just a case of indigestion. One minute later, the alien creature made it's way out of his burst abdominal cavity.

Snape just looked back at the waitress. "I'd like to change my order to the soup please."


Harry Potter tripped as he ran. A few pebbles flew out of his hand. Voldemort smiled as he confidently strode closer to his opponent, not noticing stepping on the selective portkey of a pebble.

The dark lord's next sight was of a grey barren airless landscape as a large Earth rose in the sky.


Harry turned off the television after watching the entire marathon of Phantasm and it's sequels. He was sure he could obtain a set of quidditch balls somewhere that he could charm quite effectively.


He had done it. Using spells and rituals he had invented, Voldemort now knew what awaited one after death. And who knew? The old man was right. Thus with a smile, the dark lord turned his wand around and quickly cast the killing curse at his own head, eagerly moving on to the next great adventure.


"Happy Fun Ball? What a stupid toy you are!" The Dark Lord taunted.


The aurors stared at the sight which included a large grain thresher, three donkey corpses, a vast amount of cooking oil, a large pneumatic press, something that looked like two dead dragons and a extra large hamster that were all splinched together, some kind of unidentifiable ooze, a Volkswagen van - on fire, and the fragmented corpse of the former Dark Lord Voldemort, also on fire. Tonks warily turned towards the new aurors portkeying on site. "Don't ask. Just... don't ask."


"Tom! Stop goofing around and do your homework!" Came the shrill voice from the other end of the dilapidated shack that the two shared. "I didn't decide to home school you just so you could make up ridiculous imaginary names for yourself?"

"I'm working on it, Ma!" Tom sighed and his vague dream of becoming a master sorcerer named 'Voldemort' died stillborn. Somedays, he wished that the mysterious stranger would have never saved his mother's life in the nick of time.


Harry Potter evaded the twin cutting curses Voldemort sent his way. Nevile Longbottom, who was standing behind the Boy-Who-Lived, only partially managed to evade the curses. Nevile's retaliatory explosive curse, however, hit on target. As everyone was later trying to collect all the fragments of the former Dark Lord, Harry did admit that the scars on Neville's forehead did resemble an equal sign.


Harry felt the stone in his pocket. There was no way, he would let the Quirell-Voldemort amalgamation have it. He could destroy it, but... wait, did the scrap of paper in his pocket just become much heavier?

"Fine, Voldemort. You want the stone, you can have it!" Harry screamed and raced towards his nemesis with the stone in his outstretched arm.

The wraith form of Voldemort found out very shortly afterwards, that there was no escape from his new prison; a former professor that was now literally worth his weight in gold.


Hermione put down the ancient tome detailing the origins of the House Elves. She now knew why they shouldn't be free - and why she had to free them. Using the ancient rituals, the bushy haired girl summoned all the nervous looking house elves in Hogwarts to the room of requirement.

"I know not wanting to be free is ingrained into you, and I would never want to free you all now permanently. But I need your abilities to teleport through all wards. Your natural tendencies have been repressed for so long by the ancient Atlantians whose civilization you destroyed. But until the Dark Lord Voldemort is no more, by the runic circle the room provided, I bind you all to me and my friends. Let there be no deaths of those who do not bear or have instigated the dark mark. Let there be no destruction of property unless it is owned by those marked for death. By your real title, I free you unto the havoc inherent in your real natures. For until Voldemort is destroyed, you all will no longer be the enchanted servants, House Elves. I call all of you out as your true forms are revealed. I dub you all by your true name, Hell's Imps!"


"Yes, I.. um, represent the kwick-spell and beautification enchantment company. With this kit, you can be both powerful and beautiful enough to capture the heart of any wizard of your choice!" said a disguised Harry Potter holding the very real, one-of-a-kind product.

"Hmm.. any wizard of my choice?" mused a contemplative Merope Gaunt, completely abandoning her plan to bespell that somewhat handsome muggle that lived nearby.


Harry yelled out his destination and jumped through the floo in the Ministry. Voldemort was only seconds behind him. Coming out of the fireplace at Borgin and Burke's, he was pleased to see the razor sharp closable security floo grate that he noticed on his first trip to the store.


"I wish for power!" Voldemort shouted at the Djinn of the lamp.

"Granted!" The Djinn told the rapidly cooling cloud of settling ashes.


Crys replied:

Thanks.   Most of these scenes were used.

Killer07 posted a comment on Wednesday 3rd September 2008 8:27am for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

"Hello Mr. Potter. My name is Mephistopheles i'm here to offer you a deal." the man said. "Mephistopheles as in..." "yes as in the devil but fear not i'm not here for your soul. You must see in 1975 Tom Riddle made a deal for power with me and as payment i was to recieve his soul after his death. Now imagine my surprise when my payment arrived late and as damaged goods when i got only a partial soul from a destroyed hocrux. I really don't like being cheated of my price. Imagine my further surprise as i wanted to collect the rest of Riddle only to have an active prophecy protect Riddle as it said only you can beat him with a power he knows not. So i'm here to offer you the power of one of my enforcers without payment of your soul like it's usually done. If you agree the power of a Ghost Rider will be avaiable for you the only thing i want is Riddle and every single of his Death Eaters as payment."



(Where is my Ghost Rider DVD... ahh my mother borrowed it and she lives 300km away :-( )

Eric Oppen posted a comment on Tuesday 2nd September 2008 6:23am for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

How about feeding Voldemort some nice chocolates---like the "Spring Surprise" from the Monty Python sketch?

TMorrow posted a comment on Wednesday 20th August 2008 7:49am for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

Crys, I keel you. I did not need that last one in my brain, thanks very much.
But seriously, this is good stuff.

Killer07 posted a comment on Thursday 14th August 2008 8:28am for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

Voldy got the idea to try a ritual that is said to send the caster to a power that could even conquer the world. after the ritual he find himself in front of a strange armored group. the last thing he ever hears is the the chant of metallic voices "Exterminate!" as the Daleks begin to open fire.



Killer07 posted a comment on Monday 4th August 2008 6:43pm for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

We know every Villian needs a supplier for tools of his trade. But maybe Voldemort shouldn't have choosen the magical branch of ACME. Their products tend to backfire on the villians fater all ;-)


Killer07 (After a long time a bunny attacked me again)

Evan Mayerle posted a comment on Wednesday 23rd July 2008 9:24am for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty

Hmm, regarding #336, if simple cauldron bottom regulations do that to him, how would having to fill out his tax forms affect him?

Crys replied:

Spontaneous combustion.

I would've said "homocidal rage", but this is LV we're talking about.


Update: Bunny used.   Thanks.

Regina Noctis posted a comment on Friday 18th July 2008 3:50pm for Three Hundred and One to Three Hundred and Fifty


I've come up with a bunch more ideas for this, so I think I'll just e-mail you the entire file when I'm through. It'll be as edited as I can and everything, so. . . if you could please ignore what I've left so far?

Thanks much, and good job again!


Crys replied:

As you wish.   I've deleted anything from you out of my "to write the next time this is updated" list.

Thank you in advance for what sounds like a bunch of ideas.


Update: Used several of the ideas you sent.   Will keep the rest for the next chapter.