I know that it was irresponsible and all, but my muse for this chapter came from a Bollywood film – Dostana. Therefore, I pay tribute with some random Hindi words. (Irresponsible…) Lyrics comes from “Maa Da Laadla” from Dostana’s soundtrack. Rough translations at the bottom. I demand that you youtube it while reading this. Set the mood…

After many weeks without playing his favourite game, Harry became quite antsy, tossing in the shared bed at night, and murmuring in his sleep. The following morning over breakfast, Harry brought the situation up to his father.

"Daddy... can we play Quidditch?"

--

Anyone that had ever known the Dark Lord, would know that the man is the furthest away from graceful, but despite this, he loved his son, and like any good father, agreed to a playful round of Quidditch and with the rest of his Death Eaters anyways. What a wonderful man!

Harry let his father take the better players, left his beloved teddies on the commentary booth, and took his place on the field. He smiled at his father, and shook hands as all player took stance. And then Harry gave Voldemort a look so mischievous and so evil, that Voldemort became very, very proud.

The whistle was blown.

Harry rose far into the air and circled their playing field.

“GODDAMMIT!” Voldemort had barely went three feet before falling back to the ground. He righted himself, as the spectators giggled and shot into the air. As keeper, he needed to be at his post.

Not that he even wanted to be keeper. Or even to really play. But back in the good ole days, he had been the star player. (At least, that’s how he remembers it…) so what problem would he have now?

Yeah… right… no problem.

Ten minutes in the game, Harry’s team scored fifty points, and diving for the sixth attempt of a point, Voldy managed to bash his head on the far-right make-shift post and be knocked unconscious.

The bears’ commentary was so filled with glee.

--

Sparkly, chibi eyes were the first thing that Voldemort say when he came to – Harry’s to be exact. His first reaction was to wonder what the hell was wrong with him to look so damned concerned. The first thing that came out of his mouth was “What?”

Except it didn’t come out as “What”… or even in a hiss.

It came out as “Apa?”

Harry’s eyes widened considerably.

“Helo?”

“What’s with the weird accent?” Harry asked.

And then Voldemort’s eyes widened, sudden fear griping his soul. He screamed, and immediately fainted.

--

“I think there’s something wrong with him…” Harry could be heard muttering, nervously. The figure beside him nodded in agreement. At this point, bright white lights were shining in his eyes. He tried reaching forward, for anything.

And the damned song began again: Munda sada doli chadh gaya – Munda munde paunda yarriyan…The Indian men danced around him in a circle, gleefully singing.“Kenapa Tuhan meghukum saya?” he whispered.

“DADDY!”

--

“Nak? Anak?” Voldemort murmured. Harry was staring at him uncomprehendingly. Teddy peered over the bed and into the man’s eyes.

“I think… he’s speaking Hindi, sayang – darling, I mean,” Teddy deduced.

“Kamu,” Antonie noted.

“Saja tuhu,” the bear replied, confidently.

“So what’s he saying?” Harry asked, tilting his head.

“Well,” said Teddy, “He called you ‘Son’ and then I called you ‘Darling’ which is much more special. Then that one interrupted to tell me I was right that the language was Hindi – and I told him I know.”

“I beleeve,” Antonie said in a heavy accent, “that it was from the fall.”

“Fèihuà,” Teddy growled.

“So… should we hit him again?” Harry asked.

Voldemort shook his head quickly. At this time, he had come to realize that he was feeling fine, except for that throbbing head-ache. Otherwise, he was kind of comfortable.

“Are you sure, Teddy?”

“Of course, a bit of the “hair of the dog” philosophy, you know?”

“Well, okay-”

SLAM!

Voldy never saw it coming…

-x- To Be Continued… -x-

Translations follow in this order…

“Apa?” (What?)

“Helo” (Hello)

“Munda sada doli chadh gaya – “Munda munde paunda yarriyan… Kenapa Tuhan meghukum saya” -“Your son rides the bride’s palanquin – Men fall in love with other men… What have I done, God?”) ((In other words, your son is getting married to another guy… lyrics in DOSTANA))

“Nak? Anak?” (Son? Child?)

“Kamu” (“You’re right”)

“Saja tuhu” (I know)

“Fèihuà” (Chinese for “shit”… I think…)

Screams sound by those three, horrific words “OH GOD NOOO MOREEE!”

From her safe post deep in the Pegasus Galaxy, Anna giggles… and writes more