Sweet Revenge

How to Convince your Friends to Meet the Dark Lord

          "Sorry, Potter, but I don't think I'm hearing you right. You want us to meet the Dark Lord? The Dark Lord? The Dark Lord?!"

Harry, who was stretched out across the one of the common room's couches, yawned and nodded. 

          "Yup."

Pansy toppled from the chair in a dead faint. 

Blaise's legs gave out from under him. 

Draco looked like he was having a crisis. 

Theo dropped his books. 

Vincent and Greg burned themselves in the middle of their Exploding Snap game. 

Harry, who had not turned around to witness any of these actions, appeared very confused when he noticed that no one was talking. 

He turned around and appeared even more confused that all his friends were somehow on the floor. 

His eyes narrowed and swept over the room while his hand lept to his wand. 

          "Who's there!"

He called into the empty common room, expecting there to be an aggressor of sorts. 

Just then, Draco came to and tugged on Harry's pant leg. 

           "The-the Dark Lord?"

Harry looked down. 

           "Yeah. He's nice."

           "Nice?!" Draco rasped. 

Harry nodded sagely and Draco gaped. 

----------

          "What part of 'A Dark Lord is not nice' did you not get?" Tom asked, exasperated, later that day. 

          "Er...?"

          "Did you not listen to my speech?"

          "...I cannot control when my eyes decide they wish to close."

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose, the action allowing a curl to roll elegantly onto his forehead. 

          "Salazar."

           "No, Salazar is your ancestor. I'm Harry."

           "..."

Harry grinned impishly up, his big green eyes sparkling. 

Tom looked away. 

----------

In the end, Harry settled with the plan he had felt was the meanest: The Kidnapping Plan. 

He dragged his friends down the corridor and made them all touch a desk, claiming it was magical and could turn you into a ferret for ten minutes (Draco was reluctant), and the desk-turned-Portkey had whisked Harry's friends away to the Castle. 

Harry, having been left behind, Shifted there instead. 

When, he arrived, the sight was such to behold that he had to muffle his laughter with a charm. 

You see, the scene he arrived to was as such:

Tom had previously been sitting in his imposing chair at the head of the meeting table, filling out paperwork (Merlin knows he hated paperwork, but it was part of his duties and also because his lackeys were too incompetent to do it themselves) and hoping Harry would come back from whatever little expedition he had set himself on.