Challenge: Write a story using the following objects: pineapple, water balloons, mice, branch of tree, and umbrella. Everything else is up to you.

Disclaimer: I suppose I do own the plot… kinda? But I don't own any of the characters used in this, I swear. Nor do I own the Lumberjack Song or the Avada Kedavra song. Wish I did though… maybe as a present? ;;hint hint;;

Summary: Harry defeats Voldermort through the ingenious use of the lumberjack song… cowboys and…pineapples?

Warnings: mild slash if you really really really squint. But not really. Also, cowboys, Dumbledore possesing people and Voldermort… he's scary enough for an M rating, if you ask me.

An: This was a challenge for Final Prophecy's Fanfiction #3

"Geez, I'm exhausted." Harry muttered to himself, touching down to the ground. He quickly jumped off his broom and looked around the empty quidditch pitch.

It was dark, so dark that he couldn't see the stands. He didn't know why he had chosen to come for a midnight flying session by himself, but something was disturbing his sleep.

It began raining right over where Harry was standing. He frowned slightly, looking around and seeing no rain anywhere else.

"Hot damn." He cursed in a rather American voice, before conjuring up his trusty pink and yellow umbrella that he had secretly stolen off Hagrid when the half giant wasn't looking. He opened it up and held it over his head, wondering when the little black cloud would leave. Magic was a very strange thing.

"Oi 'Arry!" Harry jumped and spun around, cloud spinning with him, and looked up. And up, until finally his eyes reached the face of none other than…

"Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed, smiling happily upon seeing his first ever friend. Hagrid smiled back down, and it didn't occur to either of them that the other was out at a very late hour, looking mighty suspicious.

"You found meh umbrella then?" Hagrid asked, reaching out for the umbrella and plucking it from Harry's hand… or at least trying to, as Harry seemed to refuse to give it up. They began a tug-a-war, Hagrid growling fiercely and Harry scratching at the hands, hissing every now and then.

Finally, Hagrid yanked it out of Harry's hands. Harry fell to his knees, tears mingling with the rainwater. His umbrella…

"Well, see yeh Harry." Hagrid said, walking off without another word. Harry raised his eyes to glare at his retreating large back.

"Damn you Hagrid… DAMN YOU!" He screamed to the night's air.

It took a full five minutes for Harry to stand up, and he did so on shaky legs, clutching his fire-bolt close. He already lost one of his most precious possessions.

He slowly walked to the changing rooms and into the warmth, the raincloud stopping outside to wait for him, a vindictive smile on it's none existent face.

And so Harry strolled into the empty, dark and haunting quidditch changing room after a refreshing broomstick ride in the middle of the night for no apparent reason other than he couldn't sleep.

After using his ultra-amazing night-vision to locate and change into his normal bedclothes he had deemed unworthy of taking off, he very quickly exited without taking a sexy shower, as all clichés would surely indicate had this been a normal story.

"Damn, I wish this was a normal story." Harry murmured to himself, longingly thinking of the unused showers just sitting there, calling out for him.

"Baby, you don't need this story to be normal." A deep, haunting voice called from the dark abyss that was two metres away. Unfortunately it was foggy and Harry could see none other than a hazy outline of a tall, muscular figure, though how he knew said figure was muscular he had no idea. It was love at first sight, in his eyes.

"But without the normality of this story, it lacks depth and emotion, making it a rather random one-shot about nothing in particular." Harry explained to the standing man, who nodded contemplatively and then conjured a chair to sit on. Harry debated on walking forward to see exactly who this man was, but realised that was completely foolish as he would have a better chance at defeating him should he choose to attack if he knew nothing of the attackers looks. It was simple logic, really.

"What should I call you? In my thoughts, calling you Man sounds rather stupid." Harry suddenly asked, aware that his thoughts were indeed taking a rather ridiculous turn. Man hummed for a moment in deep thought, before a bright light-bulb dinged at the top of his head, illuminating his blond hair but for a moment. Maybe Harry could call him Blondie?

"You should call me Dragon, it is horribly over-used yet still sounds dramatic, and in this story you're too cutely naive and oblivious to even stumble across the notion of what my real name could possibly be, quite a good thing because for some incomprehensible reason, I don't wish for you to learn of my name." Harry nodded.

"That sounds very wise, Dragon. However, I would just like to ask now, are you a death eater? Because should your answer be 'no', I will believe you despite the circumstances of our meeting being very strange, and despite you sounding oddly familiar to someone I hate with all my heart."

"It is clever of you to ask, dear Harry. And no, I assure you I am not a death eater." Dragon told him. Harry sighed in relief.

"Good, I was worried there for a moment."

An awkward silence stretched between the two, and Harry rubbed the back of his neck as he is prone to do in other stories that are surely much better than this.

"So, do you like quidditch?" Harry asked to break the uncomfortable silence. It was a completely random question with no real significance to this very odd tale, but a question none the less.

"Yes, I do. I am the seeker for Slytherin house, in fact." Dragon told him. Harry frowned, the gears in his mind slowly working. He should know the seeker of Slytherin house…

"That sounds very good, I'm the seeker for Gryffindor." It never occurred to him that everyone knew that.

"I never knew that!" Well, perhaps not everyone.

"Ah, we learn new things every day." Harry intoned in a solemn voice, and suddenly transformed into the powerful form of one legendary Albus Dumbledore, surrounded in bright light, much to the indignity of Dragon, who hissed, pupils thinning to cat like slits as he scampered away, blond hair swaying. To this day, no one shall ever know the true identity of Dragon.

"I really should get Sherlock Holmes on that sometime." Dumbledore mumbled to himself, stepping out of the skin of Harry and leaving it to lie on the floor. Argus would clean it up later, no doubt.

Dumbledore nodded to himself and walked up to the castle, looming in the distance in all its greatness.

"ah, Hogwarts." Dumbledore said, sighing quietly to himself. Crookshanks chose this opportune moment to tele-port from Hermione's dorm to Dumbledore side, and rub up against his leg, meowing softly. Dumbledore looked down and smiled grimly. Crookshanks looked up, wrinkled face wobbling slightly.

"Such a cute thing. I can see why Miss Granger is so fond of you." Dumbledore cooed. Crookshanks meowed once more before suddenly disappearing into the forest that was a good kilometre away from them.

However, Dumbledore was not to be sad at the loss of his friend for very long, as three white mice scampered through the grass and tugged on the ends of his trailing purple robe. He looked down and smiled in recognition.

"Ah, Tweak, Codswallop and nitwit!" He exclaimed the very manly names indeed. They all stood on their hind legs and saluted, before breaking out into squeaks. Dumbledore listened intently before nodding to himself.

"Then it shall be done." He commanded, walking into the castle and leaving the mice outside. A dog ran out, barking. Dumbledore watched him go.

"I thought dogs weren't allowed in Hogwarts…" He looked up at the grand ceiling of the Entrance Hall he had just stepped into. "Oh well, I must have made an exception for that wonderful new student, Mary Sue. Ah yes, such a delight she is." Dumbledore continued rambling to himself as he walked up the marble staircase that had suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Headmaster!" a sudden cry stopped him, and Dumbledore looked back to see Snape running towards him, stricken look on his strange looking face. Ah yes, look was used a lot of time in that strange looking sentence. Oh! A funny looking poodle! Would you look at that? Yes, it is an odd thing to look at indeed.

"Yes Severus?" Albus asked, waiting patiently and with no worry as Snape reached him, panting and clutching his arm. Dumbledore wondered why he would be clutching his arm. Had he broken it?

"The Dark Lord Voldermort…" Severus wheezed. Dumbledore frowned.

"Is trying to take over the world, yes?" Severus looked up and glared.

"You incompetent fool! I can not believe the incompetence of the headmaster, supposed to be looking after the incompetent students in this incompetent school!" He raged. "incompetent!" He finished with, throwing his arms in the air.

"Is that all?" Dumbledore asked politely, debating whether to offer the strange man a lemon drop. Wonderful things, lemon drop were.

"No! it is not all you incompetent old man!" Severus hissed. Dumbledore adopted a hurt expression. So many of these expression have been orphaned that Dumbledore felt he simple HAD to adopt one. You should too, www. Adoptahurtexpression. Co. uk. You should go on it, you know. Gives you a wonderful feeling of fulfilment, adopting this lonely hurt expression.

"Now Severus, isn't that going too far?" Dumbledore asked. Severus shook his head.

"Of course not. Voldermort's outside the gates with a thousand men at his army, by the way." Severus added thoughtfully. Dumbledore nodded.

"Ah, I had suspected this might come." Dumbledore told him. Severus nodded, too. Together, the two nodded.

Finally, Dumbledore snapped out of the trance nodding had put him in and looked to Severus.

"Well, I must be reviving Harry's skin so he can go and defeat Voldermort. Do me a favour, Severus, try to find a tall, muscular blond, goes by the name of Dragon and is the Slytherin Seeker. I am curious as to who he is, you know." Severus agreed. "And if you see Minerva, tell her to round up the students, it would be rather bad for business if one died, you know."

The two went their separate ways.

Ah, what a sad tale it is.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

"Oh Merlin." Harry groaned as he opened his eyes. His head pounded, feeling like it had been split in half. In fact, all of his body felt like it had been split in half, and his skin was rather uncomfortable… suspicious really…

after contemplating this for quite some time, Harry tore his eyes from the very interesting night sky and looked up into the explosively twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. Hissing, he covered his eyes with his arm, wishing Albus had some bloody curtains over his glasses or something.

"Ah, good to see you're awake." Albus said, looking uncommonly grave despite the amused twinkle. Strange combination.

"Good to be awake." Harry sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his head to get rid of the annoying but actually quite nice smelling grass. "What happened? All I can remember is talking to this mysterious tall man with blond hair and a familiar voice, who says he's the Slytherin's seeker." Harry said. Dumbledore decided to evade the question.

"Voldermort's attacking." He congratulated himself on the subtly, while Harry looked shocked, thoughts immediately diverted from all thoughts of lost memory in the face of this new horror.

"Oh Merlin! This is terrible!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up and waving his arms around in a horrified gesture. Dumbledore decided to do the same, wondering what exactly was so appealing about al this 'waving arms around' business.

He soon found out.

Five minutes later:

"Ah, now that that is done." Dumbledore started, putting down his arms and ordering them to heel. "I believe you have a dark lord to sacrifice yourself for, thus ultimately saving the world and being remembered in history even though you will most probably die." Harry nodded, a brave, determined look in his eye.

"Yes, we must go to Voldermort and I, a sixteen year old poor Scottish lad with the ambition to be the best damn lumberjack in the world, will defeat him." There was an odd, far-away expression on his face and he began to move around.

"Leaping from tree to tree, as they float down the mighty rivers of British Columbia. The Giant Redwood. The Larch. The Fir! The mighty Scots Pine! The lofty flowering Cherry! The plucky little Apsen! The limping Roo tree of Nigeria. The towering Wattle of Aldershot! The Maidenhead Weeping Water Plant! The naughty Leicestershire Flashing Oak! The flatulent Elm of West Ruislip! The Quercus Maximus Bamber Gascoigni! The Epigillus! The Barter Hughius Greenus!

With my best girlie by my side, we'll sing, sing sing…"

Harry turned to face the camera as a swarm of seven boys, including that mysterious Slytherin Seeker, Dumbledore, Voldermort and Severus, kneeled to the right and a bit behind him. The scenery suddenly changed into a forest with fake pine trees, and Harry found himself wearing lumberjack clothes, with a blond woman he'd never seen before hanging off his arm. Voldermort eyed an overhanging branch that was right infront of his eyes. It was looking suspicious. Stupid overhanging branch of some unknown tree… maybe the towering wattle of aldershot?

Suddenly, music started up, startling them all.

"I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay.
I sleep all night and I work all day." Harry began singing in a surprisingly deep baritone. The kneeling lads behind him looked at each other before plastering great big fake smiles on their faces and facing the camera too.

"He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day." They sang in unison.

"I cut down trees. I eat my lunch.
I go to the lavatory." Harry sang, smiling and jigging slightly.
"On Wednesdays I go shoppin'
And have buttered scones for tea." He obviously didn't understand the strangeness of this line, but maybe our viewing audience at home do?

"He cuts down trees. He eats his lunch.
He goes to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays he goes shopping
And has buttered scones for tea." The 'mounties' as we will affectionately call them, glanced at each other in mild confusion, before continuing.
"He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day." It was Harry's turn again. The spotlight that chose that moment to appear was centred on him, making him rather warm.

"I cut down trees. I skip and jump.
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing
And hang around in bars." He sang. The woman on his arm frowned slightly, looking at him. He just continued smiling balefully. Honestly, the idiot.

"He cuts down trees. He skips and jumps.
He likes to press wild flowers." The mounties repeated.
"He puts on women's clothing
And hangs around in bars?!" a few who were kneeling stood up, before the notes continued and they kneeled back down, big smiles on their faces.
"Oh, He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day." they finished.

"I cut down trees. I wear high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra." Harry started.
"I wish I'd been a girlie,
Just like my dear Papa." For it was true that James had actually been a girl who somehow reproduced with Lily under mysterious circumstances we will go into at a later date.

"He cuts down trees. He wears high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra?!" now the mounties stood up for real, looking at poor Harry in disgust and muttering to themselves.

"Wants to be a woman?"

"Suspenders and a bra?" The woman at Harry's side tore away, glaring at him angrily.

"And I thought you were so butch!" She exclaimed before storming off into the great unknown. Harry watched her go, extremely confused by the turn of events.

However, the music was continuing and the mounties, who had been in the process of walking away, all ran back to their positions and sung again.

"He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
He's a lumberjack, and he's okaaaaay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day. "

Suddenly, the music stopped, the bright lights went out and the camera stopped filming. The scenery changed back to that of the silent, normal Hogwarts ground.

"Well, jolly good." Severus said, clapping Dumbledore on the back. The man cleared their throats and swung their arms nervously.

"So, shall we…?" Harry trailed off, looking to Voldermort and Dumbledore. The two jumped, realising exactly what they were here for.

"Oh yes, indeed. Um, into positions everyone…" Dumbledore commanded, and soon everyone, including Death Eaters and Order members, had engaged in deadly battles, as Dumbledore fought with Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy. Harry thought he saw a few water balloons sticking out of the orders robes… hmm, I wonder…

Voldermort smirked at Harry, who was currently fighting down the seemingly permanent blush brought on from singing.

"Well, well, well, we meet again, Mr Potter." Voldermort said. Harry grit his teeth and nodded.

"Yes we do, Mr Riddle." One of Voldermort's eyebrows twitched upwards.

Again, the scene changed, and suddenly everyone was fighting out in wasteland, with a few pubs with swinging doors surrounding them. Harry and Voldermort were donned in odd cowboy assemble, tight trousers, waistcoats and wand holsters.

"This town aint big enough for the both of us." Voldermort said in a husky voice, cigarette jolting slightly as he reached up to tip his cowboy hat. Harry did the same, minus the cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"Well, you're goin' down, Tom." He announced. Voldermort smirked.

"That so?" Harry nodded, jaw tight. Suddenly, the two snatched their wands from the holsters, yelling:

"Draw!" the fights around them ceased as all watched the tension brewing between Voldermort and harry.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldermort screamed. Harry dodged.

"Stupify!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

"incendio!"

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldermort yelled. Harry paused.

"what is with this Avada Kedavra stuff?" He asked, hand on hip. Voldermort grinned.

"Well, now that you ask…" Suddenly, music started coming on, swing music. Voldermort smiled as Death eaters assembled behind him, getting into an odd sort of stance.

"They call me the Dark Lord Voldermort." Voldermort began, "I'm a sucker for evil of any sort, as long as I get to zap my foes away." The Death eaters started dancing in a pop music sort of way, black robes swinging.

"And boy, i love this magic spell." Voldermort continued, getting into the swing of things himself.
"I can send my enemies straight to hell
It's such a blast. I do it every day! Hey!"
the tone changed slightly, onto a slightly more drum-like tune.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldermort suddenly hit some insignificant order member with the Killing Curse, calling them to fall to the floor.

"Avada Kedavra!" Another went down.

"Avada Kedavra!" And another. "It rolls off of the tongue." Voldermort continued singing, wearing a sexy grin. Voldermort and sexy, something wasn't right, but Harry just couldn't put his finger on it… my, this was a pickle!

"Avada Kedavra!" Boy, they were really losing their players.

"Avada Kedavra!" This was just painful.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldermort spun, along with the dancing death eaters. "Killing people had never been this much fun."

There was a saxophone solo, which had even the Order Members tapping their feet too. Harry grinned, getting into the music. Suddenly, Voldermort started tap dancing! It was an odd sight to see, accompanied by the tap dancing sound the mysterious music was making. It stopped, and Voldermort went back to singing, much to their disappointment.

"Avada Kedavra!" Another man down.

"Avada Kedavra!" And there went Another. Wait… was that a death eater?

"Avaaada Kedavvraaa." Voldermort finished with, shooting one more person before bowing low. There was a pregnant pause, before suddenly everyone burst into applause, even Dumbledore, who looked truly elated.

"Thank you, thank you." Voldermort said. Then he turned on Harry, another evil grin on his face.

"Now Potter, prepare to die a happy death." Harry winced and looked around for something, anything, that would help him.

"Use the force, Harry." A voice whispered inside of his head. Oh great, he was schizophrenic now!
"No, idiot. Use the force!"

the voice exclaimed. Harry's eyes widened. Ooooh! That force.

"Oh My gawd, I'm totally, like, an idiot!" Harry exclaimed in a girlish voice as he fumbled around in his larger-than-they-looked pockets in his tight trousers. Voldermort watched with a confused face, wand raised in the air and poised to strike. Honestly, what was the boy doing? He was supposed to be begging for his life while wearing a happy grin at the fact that he got to hear Voldermort's wonderful singing.

"Ah-ha!" Harry finally exclaimed, whipping his hand out of his pocket and bringing with it… "A pineapple!" He yelled, thrusting it at Voldermort's face. One may wonder how Harry ever fit a pineapple in there, but not these two. No, they would never wonder that.

"Oh no!" Voldermort yelled, staring at the pineapple with large crimson eyes. He hissed as Harry drew his arm back, and… released!

The pineapple flew through the air, making dramatic swooping noises as in slow motion it moved closer and closer towards Voldermort, who was poised, hands over face, watching it in horror but not actually moving.

The pineapple struck.

Juice flew.

Screams sounded.

Then… silence.

After Voldermort was defeated by the might Harry Potter, the Death Eaters were driven back by Water Balloons, a rather ingenious plan concocted by Fred and George Weasley of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, 64 Diagon Alley, London, England, United Kingdom, Europe, the Earth, the Milky Way.

And, soaping wet and covered with bits of balloon, the Death Eaters were tied up and drug back to the Ministry for further question. Were they death eaters? Had they been at the scene of the crime? What on earth were they doing tied up and under questioning if they hadn't been?

Indeed, it was a wonderful time. These are the list of events that have happened two months after this infamous battle:

Harry has not found his… Hagrid's umbrella. The half-giant kept it well hidden.

The pineapple now takes up most of the front pages of the Daily Prophet. Damn that pineapple.

The identity of the Mysterious Tall Blond who Plays Seeker for Slytherin was never discovered, although for some insane reason Ron suspects Draco Malfoy. However, he was soon locked away in an asylum and we shall see hair nor hide of his ridiculous notion ever again, so never fear!

And last and pretty much least, Dumbledore is still using skins as we speak.

He could be in yours, or yours, or even yooours.

Dun.

Dun.

Dun.

Shifty eyes.

;;laughs nervously;; don't ask what inspired me to write this, but I hope I managed to fit in all of the words adequately. Of course, I began laughing when I mis-spelled Hagrid and my spell-checker called him Hairdo. I'm still laughing now, actually.

Anyway, please review! I'll give you a mini-pineapple, so you can defeat a knife wheeling Voldermort yourself one day!