Undisclosed Commodities

by anjehlessa

We all have that one thing that we can't live without but that we would never disclose to anyone else. (written for the "strange obsession" challenge at HPFC. Previews: Voldemort/uncooked noodles and Bellatrix/snow globes. Many of these will not be serious, at all.

A/N: This is probably the craziest thing I have ever written, but I just had to let this idea play out in my head. Character for this one: Voldemort, obsessed with uncooked noodles.

There were many many rules that had to be followed to successfully live in Malfoy Manor during the reign of the Dark Lord. A great deal of these were common sense (stay out of his way unless called, always come if called, never fail in any task set forth, bow to him when entering the room,) but one rather curious rule seemed to be in the process of developing. Smiling in his presence had never been outright banned, and it was hard to do so anyway with the nature of most meetings, but now it was inordinately disdained and even a twitch of the lips was deemed an almost killing offense.

This rule was peculiar given the normal circumstances of most encounters with the Dark Lord, but once an audience was established with The Master, this peculiarity was immediately dismissed, and a mental exercise was then employed so as not to break his newest untolerated rule. It was the crunching, that rhythmic "chomp chomp chomp" that had cheeks ticking and eyes straining to keep expressions neutral. In every interrogation, idle chat (though these were few and far between,) official meeting (from one on one to large scale,) and even during the ubiquitous torture sessions that The Master was so famous for, that ludicrous chomping would puncture answers, pleas, silence and screams alike.

Everyone knew, of course, what caused the crunching sound, which made it all the more difficult not to at least chuckle at the preposterous nature of the situation. The Dark Lord, no matter if he was in one of his rare moods of slight amiability or in the most extreme of ill-tempered rages would always be holding in his right hand his wand, and in his left, a few delicate strands of long, uncooked pasta noodles. These strands he would handle with a delicacy that was never bestowed on a single being, and he would bring them to his mouth and bite off the end of the cluster. They would then be a centimeter or so shorter but still meticulously even. Once the end of the strand was reached, he would flick his wand just a bit, and a few more would whoosh in to his hand, and he would catch them, even them out and start the process all over again.

And so, it was easy to see why this curious rule was not so curious after all. It was common knowledge that the Dark Lord was just a bit self-conscious of his new addiction, but no one dared ever speak of this. Every now and then, however, as he bit off the end of a strand of noodles, one tiny centimeter of one stray noodle would escape his gnashing teeth and would hang on his chin threatening to fall off. It was one unfortunate who happened to see this phenomenon, and his lips couldn't help but be drawn upward in a hint of a smile. He will not be mentioned again, poor soul.

It is also a well-known fact that this should never ever ever be broadcasted to the light side in any way. Uncooked noodles was mentioned in passing by a rather new and uneducated recruit to a friend she was meeting in the Hog's Head. She will not be mentioned again, poor, stupid soul.

Luckily, however, I have been divulging information to the Light side for years without being caught. But, I know I need to be careful; this is one of his most guarded secrets. Dumbledore will eventually know, but I must use the most advanced forms of discretion at my disposal. This could, potentially, be used as one of our most innovative strategies yet.