The (Not-So-)Black Letters

Story: The (Not-So-)Black Letters

Summary: Harry sends a surprising letter to Headmaster Dumbledore. He's joined Voldemort. What Dumbledore doesn't understand is why Harry has to keep sending mail...mail that reads itself aloud, nonetheless...during breakfasts...at the Great Hall!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters.

Hope you enjoy it!

Today's chapter is longer than usual (around 800 words) to make up for the wait. It's a little more serious and boring than the previous ones, as the plot comes along, though I'll try and make sure next one has a little more fun in it. Next chapter should be up by sathurday.

Thanks to all my awesome reviewers!

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When the following morning Hedwig flew inside the Hall, her feathers still a dazzling mix of colours yet carrying a black letter in her beak, speculation broke through the Hall.

“Hello everybody!

It’s me, Harry. I managed to recuperate Hedwig from the Twin’s clutches, though I still haven’t managed to turn her feathers back to black. Let me tell you, the twins deeply regret pissing off my poor little dear. She can be pretty vicious when she wants to.

Now, I think I should apologize. Oh, knock off that smug smile, Dumbles, I’m not talking about you. I’m talking to the Slytherins. Or rather, the Slytherins in my year, and older. I guess only those in my year know about this, as we were tiny little firsties back then, so I’ll explain what happened for everybody else’s benefit. If memory serves me well, Slytherin was in the lead for the House Cup. I’m sure they remember exactly how many points behind them we were, but we were right at the bottom. So, the green and silver banners had been hung –keep in mind this happened at the closing dinner- and the Snake House was cheerfully celebrating, when suddenly Dumblefool stood up, and awarded a great number of points to Gryffindor. The sadistic bastard awarded Ron, Hermione and I as many points as to even our score with Slytherin’s, for placing our lives in danger while trying to protect the Philosopher’s Stone, which was being “hidden” at Hogwarts, and eventually killing that farce of a Proffesor, Quirrel, who was found to be hosting Voldemort’s spirit. He never explained about this of course, nor did he punish us for taking such a stupid, unnecessary risk. Hell, as you can see, he encouraged it. And when the Sytherin’s looks of outrage couldn’t show their rage any clearer, he awarded Neville 10 points for “standing up to his friends”. Nice pal. He won us the Cup –or should I say, we stole it? I’m pleading guilty of that. So, sorry Slytherin, I hope you win this year’s Cup. If you don’t, at least everybody will know why that happened. Because you don’t truly think that was the first and only time Dumblebee arranged the whole thing, do you?

Well, I didn’t plan on telling you so much, but Tom insisted I should apologize for Dumbles actions, so… I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to unnecessarily enrage a powerful, if slightly unstable, Dark Lord.

I was going to start my “Dumblebee is an idiot that should have been drown at birth” in this letter, but I’m honestly fed up right now –dealing with Hedwig, Voldemort and the Weasley Twins is an all-day job- so you’ll have to wait for my next letter, I guess. Hey, Mione, what do you think about naming it “BISDAB” for short? Oh, right. I don’t care what you think. Opps! By the way, I really hate your stupid teeth. In fact, I wrote to your parents about it. Guess what? They don’t exist.

Now, now, don’t panic. I didn’t kill Miss and Mister Granger, seeing as there never was any Miss or Mister Granger in the first place. Did you think I would never find out? I have to give it to you, you’re way better than Ronniekins when it comes to acting –still, you should have kept up better with your “muggle” education. Last summer I became addicted to “Lie to Me”, the muggle TV show, and it got me investigating about deceptions, how to lie and, most important, how to detect lying. Guess what? You failed Lying 101, Miss Hermione Béline Sholemoff. I think I’ll leave you to explain everybody how you can be the heir to that obscure little dark branch off the Dumbledore’s.

I do love having the Dark Army resources at my beck and call.

Ta-da!”

Dumbledore looked around in panic as soon as Hermione’s real name was mentioned. He soon realized what he was doing, however, and started unwrapping a lemon pop, trying to appear unconcerned. He was therefore startled when his perfect little, rounded lemon drop vanished in a puff of foul-smelling smoke, leaving in it’s place a yellow rubber duck. While Dumbledore wasn’t muggleborn, he’d been Headmaster for long enough to recognize it for what it was, but it was too late for him –he’d already started the motion that would flip the candy into his waiting mouth, so he watched with mounting distress as the little rubber duck fell into his mouth. As soon as the cute little thing touched his tongue, his whole body turned a sickering yellow color.

The letter, inestead of burning as soon as Harry’s goodbye ringed, had waited untouched on the table. While this would have usually warned the Headmaster of something unusual happening he had been too preocupied about Hermione’s blown cover to notice. He gasped as the letter rose once more, ready to spill more of those damning words –or rather, he tried to gasp. To Dumbledore’s horror, it came out as a loud “quack”.

“By the way, Dumbles, you may want to keep an eye on what you eat –you have the Weasley Twins out to get you!”


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R&R? Please? rubber-duck cookies for every reviewer!

chrisddavis: Well, Hermione gets some this chapter, as you can see. ;)