TITLE - Ad Nauseam
FANDOM & CATEGORY - Harry Potter; parody/humor
PAIRING(S) - none
RATING - PG-13
WARNINGS - crack!fic (this should be standard for all my work)
SUMMARY - Since Harry didn't succeed the first time, he goes back into the past to fix his mistakes, again. And again, and again. Too bad no one explained how Voldemort tagging along was just the Universe keeping things fair.
NOTES: I always wondered why it was just Harry (and occasionally Hermione/Ron/Luna/Draco/Ginny) who got to go back and try to change the future when he's kind of attached to Voldemort. So, this is a parody on all those time-traveling!Harry fics out there. ;) I was, er, kind of hyper when I wrote this. (Once again, my roommate merely encouraged this! She's supposed to be a calming, tempering factor on my manic plotlines, but nooooo....) And this plotbunny came along, bit me in the ankles, and refused to let go despite all my shaking and dancing around. (Don't they have sprays for that sort of behavior?)

"Ah, so we meet again, Harry Potter."

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Let's get this over with."

There was a slight pause. "My, you're awfully cheeky today, Mister Potter."

"I already know how it goes, Tom. You'll offer me fame – which I'll refuse because, quite frankly, I'm sick and tired of the fame that I already have, and power – which I totally don't need, immortality – which is sort of what got us in this mess in the first place – and even my dead parents. And we won't go into the disaster that happened when I actually agreed to it our fourth pass."

Voldemort watched him a bit nervously from the back of Quirrell's head, as if this was a subject that he regarded with great trepidation. "You would've eventually gotten used to the smell."

Harry waved his wand and assumed a bored stance. "It wasn't so much the smell as it was the random bits and pieces falling off all the time. I got tired of using thread, duct tape, and super glue to hold my parents together."

Voldemort waved an irritable hand. "A minor inconvenience."

"Look, you weren't there. You didn't have to pick your mum's fingers out of the salad."

"I can see how that might make you a little… hmmm, testy."

"Anyway, this is the ninth time we're standing in front of the Mirror of Erised and arguing over the Philosopher's stone. I had the whole speech memorized since our second pass, and we know how this is going to turn out, since I've always refused to hand over the stone. So let's just skip the melodramatics."

"You did agree to join forces our fourth pass."

"A temporary aberration that came from me being so bored from the other three passes. Now, let's just skip all of this so we can get on with our lives. I still have my finals, and I'd rather not be passed out again. It always messes up with my grade average."

"This is the one moment all year that I get to shine, and you want skip over that?" Voldemort looked outraged. "I hardly want to hurry on to Albania again. It got a little old my third pass through."

"Um, Master?" Quirrell began nervously.

"Shut up, you spineless wastrel," Voldemort told Quirrell firmly. Quirrell did so, a disgruntled look on his face.

"And whose fault is that?" Harry demanded.

"Yours, I do believe."

"Oh hoh! I'm not the disembodied soul clinging to the bald head of a rather pathetic Defense teacher! Again." Harry paused in thought, before adding mischievously, "Although I have to say it's an improvement over Lucius Malfoy's big toe our seventh pass."

"Touche."

"And I hope you never do again what you did our fifth pass."

Voldemort gritted his teeth. "Shut up, Potter."

"Man, of all the places to get yourself attached to, Fudge's right buttock was the last place I expected it to be."

"Shut up, Potter!" Voldemort fired a stunner at Harry, but Harry easily dodged it with a grin plastered on his face.

"It sure brought a whole new meaning to Fudge talking out of his arse."

"It's your fault we've even had to go through this!" Voldemort fired another hex at Harry, again missing. "You got us stuck in this damn time paradox, forcing us to repeat your seven years at Hogwarts until you finally manage to defeat me! Which will never happen, by the way, you pathetic brat."

"I would so if you just gave up."

"I refuse to go to Albania again this time around!" With that, Voldemort/Quirrell dashed around the other side of the Mirror of Erised, as if he expected it to shield him from Harry's magic.

Harry sighed. "Stop acting like a brat, Voldemort. You're only prolonging the inevitable. Remember our sixth pass when we decided to call a truce, not do anything, and you just walked away? Quirrell's body eventually rotted away over the summer while you were hiding out in the Room of Requirement, and you wound up having to spend all of second year sharing Myrtle's toilet while your diary-Horcrux and I decided our fates over a long series of Gobstones and strip poker."

Voldemort shuddered. "Temporary insanity, that was."

Harry decided that he would discretely keep his thoughts of Voldemort and his complete and utter dislocation with reality in general to himself. "Look, I hear that Hawaii is a nice place to be this time of year. You can spend some time on the tropical beaches, checking out all the cute girls in their grass skirts."

"The tourists are atrocious, brat, and no one ever tells you just how the bugs and the centipedes are absolutely horrible. Not to mention I'm allergic to coconuts."

Harry thought about that. "Really?"

"Unfortunately."

"I'd say that it sucks to be you, but you'd be a disembodied spirit, so what difference does it make?"

Voldemort sniffed in disdain. "It's the principle of the matter."

"Well, try another place then. How about the Swiss Alps?"

Voldemort peered around the edge of the Mirror. "I do like cheese," he carefully conceded.

"There you go, then. You can go enjoy fine Swiss cheeses for the next year or so, and I can work on my special project in peace."

"I really think I could be of assistance to you with the dictionary."

Harry had absolutely no intention of using Voldemort's assistance on his Parsletongue dictionary. "No, thank you," he said dryly. "This is an independent project."

"That's what you said about the last one in our eighth pass, and look at what happened! You opened up a passage between Hogwarts and the lake, flooded the dungeons, and Gryffindor had to host the Slytherins for the six weeks it took to drain the water and forcefully remove the squid from Snape's storeroom."

Harry felt his face flush red. "I don't want to talk about it."

"To be sure," Voldemort continued, completely enjoying Harry's embarrassment, "it was quite entertaining and certainly made Sixth year far more interesting than normal, especially when the Malfoy boy decided to seduce you."

"I said I didn't want to talk about it."

"I suppose that means I will never find out more of that Gryffindor/Slytherin orgy that distracted my Death Eaters and allowed Dumbledore to live. By the way, don't ever do something like that again. I still have nightmares of a naked Minerva McGonagall screaming in ecstasy."

You aren't the only one, Harry thought darkly. "Are we done delaying the inevitable, Tommie? I'm getting tired of chatting up the past with you."

Voldemort sighed and stepped around the Mirror. "Oh, very well. Let's get it over with. Got the stone yet, brat?"

"Yeah, but I'm not telling you where." Harry approached Voldemort cautiously, ducked when Voldemort made a sudden lunge for his wand, and quite firmly kneed him in the testicles. Both faces twisted in pain as Quirrell doubled-over.

"That was a low blow, Potter!" Voldemort wheezed as he disintegrated from bottom-up.

"Yeah, yeah. This nostalgia was getting to me. So, business as usual our fourth year?"

Voldemort stayed corporeal enough to flip off Harry before the body finally disintegrated. Then his incorporeal spirit hovered a moment.

Harry stepped aside. "Enjoy the Swiss Alps," he said with a wave as Voldemort leisurely swept past him.

"I'll send you a postcard, Potter."

"Thanks. See ya, Tommie."

Then Harry sighed, and sat down on the steps to await the arrival of Dumbledore.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: I know that people would love to see this story expanded into multiple chapters that explore these different passes more thoroughly, but I simply don't have the time to do such as of right now. Believe me, I am entertaining the notion. In all truth, the flooded dungeons scene is an idea I had previously intended for my current WIP/brainchild, Water Aerobics for the Aquaphobic. It's been mentioned in passing in chapter 18, get's setup in chapter 20, and finally happens in chapter 21. If you're all really interested in the flooded dungeons (and the Squid making a nest for himself in Snape's supply room), and until I work this story into multiple chapters, you may very well enjoy the antics of Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy that will lead to flooded dungeons - among other things. (Believe it or not, Harry was actually innocent! Although it should be mentioned that the aforementioned Slytherins are doing their best - or worst - at corrupting such innocence.)

There's... an awful lot of crack in Aquaphobic, I kid you not.