The bald man, around his late twenties, walked into the Daily Prophet office in a bad temper not that that was unusual. He took the smoking cigar out of his mouth and stabbed it into the arm of a passing intern. The intern squealed and ran away. The bald man laughed hysterically. Again, this wasn't unusual. He did this at least three times a day. It was the highlight of his days. People liked to call him Satan. He also enjoyed this.

It wasn't long before he started choking on his own saliva from laughing too hard. Just as he was nearly done choking, his boss waddled into the office cheerfully, his double chin jiggling.

"Hiya Colin! I've got new assignment for you!" the boss said, giving him a wink and a thumbs up sign.

Colin slammed his fist onto the table, not noticing the crack that was slowly spreading through the entire desk. "IT'S CUELIN NOW, YOU STUPID LITTLE SHIT!!!"

Colin Creevey changed his name at least five times a day. His co-workers struggled to keep up with his name changing. The consequences were not good

His boss cowered behind the desk that was now in two halves, his smile faltering just a bit. "CUELIN! C-Cuelin er, yes, Cuelin, I have a new assignment for you!" His smile widened anxiously.

Colin lit another cigar, and smiled maniacally at his boss. His boss didn't take this as a good sign.

"What is it this time?" Colin sneered.

His boss dabbed at his forehead with an already soaking handkerchief. "Oh…y-you just have to…"

Colin was getting impatient. Again, this wasn't a good sign. "What the fuck do I have to do?!!?"

His boss jumped, but just a little. He smiled. This was actually going well. Usually, he would've been in the hospital around this time.

"Oh you just have to snap a picture…or two, of You-Know-Who…"

Colin could feel his vein throbbing on his temple. He said slowly, so his boss could hear every single word. "No. I DON'T know who!"

"CHRIST! YOU-KNOW-WHO Cuelin! YOU-Fucking-KNOW-WHO!"

Colin's eyes widened. No one ever dared raise his voice at him- especially not his boss. "Don't you fucking DARE raise your voice at me! I want you to say His name dammit, I want you to say HIS NAME!"

His boss was now practically drowning in his own sweat. He should've known better than to say that. "S-say, His name?" He said in a high squeaky voice. He KNEW he should've listened to his warning in the horoscopes. He KNEW! "C-can I write it down?"

Colin Creevey reflected. Why not? He was in the best mood he's been all week. He waved his hand towards a piece of paper.

His boss sighed in relief. "Oh, thank you! THANK YOU!" He quickly stopped his praising when he saw the vein bulging in Colin, no wait, Cuelin's temple.

The boss quickly picked up a pen, and scrawled the name across the piece of paper, and nearly shoved it into Colin's face, before realizing that this would've pissed him off too.

Colin stared at the paper, before slowly looking up at his boss, with a murderous look in his eyes. His boss wringing his hat with his hands.

Colin said, in a leveled tone (which made it all the more worst), "I. Can't. Read. It."

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AN: will continue, no worries there! Voldemort/Colin make such a good pair, don't you think?