Disclaimer: Wow, I own less than usual for this chapter. Harry Potter isn't mine, it's JKR's. The basic idea is Kamerreon's, who so kindly left the idea in a review. Lets see... There's a Monty Python and the Holy Grail reference, and a Princess Bride reference mixed in, and the very least. Anything else you recognize probably isn't mine either, unless I've got hoards of publishing royalties stored away somewhere, and no one's told me.

Author's Note: So, it's been quite a while since the last update. However, I've been... no wait. I broke my... no, not that either. Alright, seriously? I was abducted by aliens, and have only now escaped. Yup, that sounds as plausible as any other excuse, right?

Ah, yes, and thanks very much to Kamerreon, who kindly pointed out that I had missed a few cliches. I'm sure there's more out there! Remember, this story ends when I run out of cliches, and I've only got two left!

Because You Are So Dear

Chapter Apparently Seven

Yes, Mister Master Voldy!

"Hermione!" Harry called in a sing-song voice. "Where are you?"

I held my breath. If he really didn't know where I was, I wanted to keep it that way. Rabastian, however, was no help. He burst into high, unmanly giggles. Not even a cackle, mind, or a chuckle, or a good guffaw, but a giggle.

"I'm so glad I slipped you that tracker!" Harry exclaimed, emerging from behind the stack of books.

"I don't have a tracker, Harry."

"Not technically," he conceded. "But Rabastian's nearly as good! He just hates to stay hidden. Now you," he continued, turning to my guilty-looking boyfriend. "Rodolphus called a family meeting. Personally, I think he just wants help escorting Bellatrix to the funny farm, but I may be biased."

Rabastian laughed again, this time an equally undignified snort, before taking his leave.

"So Harry," I said before the boy could open his mouth. "Tell me how you and Voldemort got together."

"If you insist. It was the day of the final battle..."

For a change, somewhere in the perhaps future... so Hermione thinks

It was the day/night/predawn of The Final Battle. And yes, it would go down in history as The Final Battle. This is, after all, the same society that gave us such interesting monikers as the 'Boy-Who-Lived,' the 'Chosen One,' and, of course, 'You-Know-Who.' I mean, seriously, there are so many unusual names, why don't I get one? Poor Tom had to go and make one up for himself-

SCREEEEECH!!!

Suddenly, there were one hundred Hermiones, all yelling 'Get on with it!'

Um... !!!HCEEEEERCS?

Right, on to scene 24... I mean, The Final Battle, where Harry had discovered an important clue.

"I cannot beat him," Harry thought morosely. "I cannot beat him with a fish, I cannot beat him in a dish. I cannot not beat him with a rat, I cannot beat him while wearing a hat." He stopped, shook himself, then continued on, using the corridor the other fighters so kindly left him to reach Voldemort. "If only I had paid attention in Transfiguration instead of turning a tea pot into a tortoise... Wait a minute!" Harry paused for a moment, pondering the utter injustice of it all. "And just think, I could have been doing something useful, like learning to turn a blade of grass into a semi-automatic rifle!"

He bravely continued forward, his wand that wouldn't work against Voldemort in one hand, and the sword of Gryffindor that he didn't miraculously know how to use in the other.

"Hello, Voldemort, I'm here!" he proclaimed, reaching the Dark Lord who was unsuspiciously unguarded. "I am Harry Potter. You killed my father, even though it was apparently for grins and for no real advancement of your goals or my story. Prepare to die!"

"I don't think so!" Voldemort screamed. "Now!"

Bellatrix sprang out of hiding, immobilizing Harry, making his weapons even more useless than before.

"No fair!" Harry shrieked. "I obeyed the Final Stand of all Heros and Villians of Battle handbook! Chapter 19, page 319, rule 516, paragraph 3, footnote at the bottom clearly states the only people to witness a final confrontation are said Hero and Villian!"

"I play by my own rules, Potter! That's kind of the reason I'm trying to take over the Ministry?" Voldemort crowed. "Now, I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to do what always works so well for us fictional bad guys. I'm going to take you prisoner and break your spirit by making you angry. If you're especially willful, I'm sure I can find a pointy stick laying around somewhere... You will bend to my will!"

"Never!" Harry screamed.

The Order, Aurors, students, and random tourists glanced in their direction before quietly putting down their wands. After all, it had been printed in the newspaper that Harry was the only one that could beat Voldemort, and newspapers never sensationalize, right? The Death Eaters turned their wands on their oh-so-foolish opponents, and killed them. Every single one, including Ron, Ginny, and Hermione.

Come on, you knew it was about time for one

"Um, Harry?" I asked timidly. "Why did Tom refer to himself as a fictional character?"

"At the time, I'll admit, I thought he was nuttier than rat crap at a pistachio factory," Harry shrugged. "Since then, I've come to recognize the deep psychological differences between Voldemort and Tom and believe that he was referring to the Voldemort persona as fictional, as that one is, in fact, completely made up."

"Oh," I said. That actually made sense, in a strange, Harry sort of way. I was a bit upset I hadn't come up with that myself. "And how am I here if I died? Wait, I don't want to know, I'm sure you'll come up with something. Please continue."

So, I don't know if you've figured it out yet, but I'm running out of things to put here...

Harry didn't know how much time had elapsed since he had been thrown into this dark, dank, moldy cell with throw pillows and frilly curtains. And no, he didn't know why there were curtains, as it was, in fact, a windowless dungeon cell, hence the 'dark.' They were simply piled up in a corner.They were lacy and pink, though. Personally, Harry thought they were a nice, homey touch.

He startled awake on his four-poster-down-mattress-slash-pointy-rock when he heard a Death Eater coming with his food. It was always a toss-up whether or not they would be bribing him with a ten course meal, or starving him with moldy bread and dirty water. Today, it appeared to be the bread and water. Harry was thrilled. He was making a moldy bread house in the corner to occupy his time.

"When you're done, the Dark Lord has a surprise for you," Bellatrix cackled. Harry nodded, making his way over.

They wandered towards the surface level, taking wrong turns every so often. Bellatrix claimed it was so Harry wouldn't be able to escape. Harry thought Bellatrix was simply stupid.

"Ah, Potter! Surely you're time in the sub-levels of my miraculously-appearing-ancient-ancestry-house have bent you to my will! Did you get your time with the pointy stick?"

Harry gave Voldemort a speculative look. "Fortunately for me it was on a 'kindness' day, so there was a fluffy pillow at the end. Did a number on the pillow, though."

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Bella, fetch the first victim."

Harry paled significantly behind the tan he managed to maintain, despite the fact that, for all he knew, he had spent years in the dungeon.

The first to be pulled out onto the raised floor not unlike a stage was Ronald Weasley. "You traitor!" he bellowed. "I'll never forgive you for this! Never!" He continued on for ten minutes until, in self-defense, Voldemort killed him.

"Maybe I shouldn't have started with him," Voldemort said, more to himself than to Harry. "Next!"

Ginny Weasley appeared, sobbing uncontrollably. "I thought you loved me!" she wailed, banging her fists and kicking her feet. "Why don't you love me? We've had such stimulating conversations! All two!" She soon met the same fate as her older brother.

"This obviously isn't working," Voldemort muttered. Harry, however, had a different idea.

"You have killed my friends," he said serenely, moving to kneel beside Voldemort. "I am forever in your debt. The makers of headache potions may not be so happy with you, though. I have nothing left to live for. I would love to be your slave, and have dozens of babies for you. They shall be half snake. However, you did kill my father..."

Voldemort fluttered his eyelash-less eyelids at him. "Oh all right, I forgive you, you big puppy you."

Really, that's the end. Hermione did ask for this story, so I suppose she didn't have as many questions this time.

"That's why you forgave Voldemort?" I exploded. "Because he fluttered his eyelids at you?" I calmed momentarily. "Is that why you still don't like Bellatrix or Pettigrew? Because they have eyelashes?"

Harry nodded firmly. "Excessive eyelashes freak me out a little bit," he admitted. "They're almost worse than noses."

"And you do know Ron and Ginny are still alive, right?"

"Of course I know you think that," he sighed. "They're holograms. Wizards would never think to test if something is solid or not. They just check to see if they have to take a drink every hour on the hour, or if they get weird convulsions when they don't."

"So then where's your collar?" I asked. "Surely Tom wouldn't let you go around unmarked."

Speak of the devil, Tom wandered in at exactly that moment.

"Harry," he began. "I've got a Death Eater meeting in twenty minutes. Please?"

Harry nodded. Tom practically ran from the room. Harry slowly stood to follow him. He grinned lecherously at me.

"Who says I'd be the one wearing the collar?" he winked.

Author's Note the Second: So, what'd you think? Feel free to share!

Oh, on another note (literally, Chapter Five's note), when an author demands reviews, the vast majority of you don't like it, although it makes only a slight majority of you (counting reviews as well as the polls) not review. Thank you for your input. I'm glad to know I'm not the only one, but sometimes when you look at the number of reviews and the number of demands, it makes you wonder.

And, last one, I promise, I do know I killed Ron and Ginny twice. It's so much fun, I couldn't just do it once! That, and authors seem to forget who they've killed, and manage to kill the same character off by the killing curse, poison, torture, falling rocks, and on the toilet all in the same story.