Voldemort giggled like a school girl as he went to check the stats on his new blog. But before he could reach his beloved computer, Lucius Malfoy greeted him with an strange amount of glee for a Death Eater.
"I knew it!" he cried his long blond hair flowing in the wind, "I always knew it! Oh Voldie dearest, I love you!"
Voldemort was filled with utter distaste, how could the creep ever get an idea like that into his platinum head? Lucius was much too girly looking for his liking; besides, he had no time for this – he had a website to run.
"Nagini, eat him!" he ordered.
"No!" Lucius cried, running away from Voldemort's beloved pet. "It said you loved me back on your webpage! It was too good to be true!"
Leaving his overly devoted follower to be snake food, Voldemort rushed to the Internet, and then he waited several minutes for the site to load. "Blasted Wormtail," he cursed. He blamed everything on Peter Pettigrew, even dial-up Internet. When he officially took over the world, Voldemort decided he would splurge and get high-speed, because he'd earned it.
After killing several Muggles, some Death Eaters, and a lawn gnome while he waited for his webpage to load, he finally saw the horrid slander.
"It burns us!" he hissed and then suffered a fatal coronary.
The Death Eaters began run around in circles, not knowing what to do now that their leader was dead. The only one who did anything constructive was Lucius, who managed to trick Nagini into eating his son instead of him.
"I must avenge my love!" he cried and destroyed the computer. It wasn't much of an act of heroics, since the Death Eaters had all been talking about it for ages: it was a Macintosh, and almost all of them had used it at one point in time, to go through tiresome converting spells because of the over-popularity of Dell and Bill Gates.
Harry, as usual, was oblivious. He had absolutely no idea that the Dark Lord was dead, despite that they shared a strange, mystical connection. He was much too busy trying to find a painting he hadn't scratched up yet, when he ran into Professor McGonagall. She was also in her cat form, which she used to sneak up on students who were snogging in the hallways.
"Do I know you?" she asked.
"It's me, Harry," he mewed, so grateful to finally find someone who could understand him.
"Oh, hello Harry. So that's where you were all year," she said and simply turned him back to normal and went about her way. Harry wished she could have given him some clothes.
He had just devised a plan to crawl on his belly until he reached his dormitory where hopefully he had some clothes, when Terry Boot began racing down the halls with his usual announcements.
"The Dark Lord's dead!" he shouted. "And Chester the cat is, was, and always will be Harry Potter! And I have a towel!"
"What! How?" Ginny cried, entering the hall along with the other principal characters of this fanfic. Terry Boot laughed and put the towel somewhere Harry couldn't possibly reach.
"Malfoy did it," Harry replied. It really explained it all.
"Where is Malfoy?" Neville wondered.
"Who cares?" Harry replied.
"So that's where you were Harry!" Hermione pondered, as she entered beside Ron, who was watching the fly, "Do you know you're naked?"
"Yes actually, I do" Harry muttered, "Luna please give me back my clothes."
"What clothes?" she replied with such honesty that nobody doubted she was telling the truth, even though she was wearing said clothes.
That reminded Ginny of something: "You saw me naked!"
"Yes, I did," Harry paused to recapture the mental picture, "but that doesn't matter! Ginny, I love you!"
Ginny thought for a moment, and produced her answer from the fact that Harry had not only been her friend, but her cat, not to mention he was naked.
"Okay, I love you too!" and she handed him the towel, much to Neville's disappointment.
"But I thought you were with Terry Boot," Harry commented as he covered himself.
"Oh no," Ginny laughed, "He fancies Greg Floyd!"
"Besides," said Terry Boot, smiling, "I'm not really Terry Boot, I am The all-knowing Sir Fishy Grimwold the 27th of Mulligatawny Soup Land."
"Who the bloody blazes is that?" Harry muttered.
"Really, Harry," Hermione tisked, "Don't you remember the insignificant, but creepy man we had half a glimpse of in the beginning of book four?"
"Oh yeah." It all made sense to Harry now, "Then where's the real Terry Boot?"
"Maybe it's the fly?" Neville suggested.
At this suggestion the fly randomly transformed into Rodger Davies, who instantly began necking with Luna.
"I go with everyone," he explained.
"That reminds me," Harry said, and he and Ginny began some first-class smooching themselves, which is what the readers really wanted.
"Isn't it lovely Ron?" Hermione asked.
Without the fly to distract him Ron remembered that he had always been in love with Hermione, so he grabbed her and kissed her in a manner that would make Percy faint and the Wesley twins proud.
Harry was glad he was no longer a cat, and even though he continued to hack up hair balls for weeks afterwards, everyone was obscenely happy, except Neville who had no one to snog.
THE END. The fic is over. Go home and do something about that rash!