Voldemort woke up with a start. The dream he was having was great. Him becoming the unopposed ruler of Britsh Isles, killing mudbloods left and right, cruco-ing his followers, just the usual stuff. He remembered how close he was to killing that annoying Potter brat, but he woke up.

The source of the disturbance was tapping his room's window. A brown owl, by the moonlight reflecting off of its feather. A strange sight indeed. No one sends a letter directly to him. It is his followers' duty to bring him the messages and get punished. Lucius was his favorite. Though most of these times, it isn't him who brings his messages. Maybe he should curse that idiot less. Anyway, he took the letter from the owl, which flew away not waiting for a reply.

Normal parchment, nothing fancy. Even the handwriting was unremarkable, Outrageous. Whoever it was, didn't receive his special memo about writing in peacock quills and in green ink. One always respect the Slytherin theme, but this one didn't.

It read,

"Tom, good to know that you can read. Actually, Hermione said that your feeble mind can't process the difficult task of reading a letter, but I know better. For I have read your personal diary, so I know that you can.

Now on to the matter. You killed my owl, though indirectly. But still, it's your fault. Also, you killed Dumbledore and Sirius. Again indirectly but your fault. God, it seems like every atrocity you've committed is almost always indirect. Is it because you are a weak-willed cowardly nutter? I don't know. But I'll blame you for some direct murders, like my parents. and a bunch of others.

Hermione is insisting me to get back to the topic.

So, Yeah. I hate you, obviously. I thought about leaking all your teenage pervy secrets I found from your diary. But since you are a psychopath, I thought the world could do a lot less with your weird kinks. Especially the ones with Bellatrix. What the hell, man? I'm 17. Don't send those via our link. God, that sounds like an innue- Hermione what's the spelling for that again? oh, innuendo? got it- innuendo.

Hence, I've found a novel way to end you. Which I have to say is ironic. As I'm ending it just as the way it started. Hedwig would be proud of this.

Hermione, you think this is enough for stalling? Oh ok.

So yeah. Go to hell or suffer eternally. whatever that suits you.

PS: Don't worry about you soul crackers, I mean horcruxes. I'll be taking very good care of them. Planning to polish them with basilisk venom, I am. Hey, what is this locket with a snake symbol?

Dicta-Quill end"

While Voldemort was reading this, he failed to notice that he didn't close the window. Which was a good thing, as a few days later, Aurors found it very helpful to clean the mess.

After clearing away most those letters, they found the body. Voldemort was lying on the floor surrounded by a heap of letter sticking to him. Those letters also made a lot of paper cuts, though it was suffocation, not blood loss that killed him.

Somewhere around the manor, his roaming spirit just withered before vanishing as in its last moments it felt it. All of its horcruxes were gone.

Miles away, Harry Potter just woke up, surviving the killing curse for the second time. Snape was gladly willing to cast the curse on a potter. Besides him, each of his friends was standing happily and McGonagall was beaming at him with pride.

The day began a new and Harry was looking forward to a word with dark lords with silly anagra-something names.