Hello, all. I'll leave a disclaimer and a warning, and then I'll be on my way while you read this (and hopefully review).

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Tom Riddle, or Tom Riddle's nose. JK Rowling has the pleasure of owning all that.

Warning: This fic is NOT meant to be taken seriously in any way. It's not the best of my work, and I realize this, seeing as I was exhausted when writing it. Also, be prepared for the disgusting cannibal/werewolf known as Fenrir Greyback.

With that being said, here is what my tired mind thinks up when it comes to the invisible nose of Lord Voldemort.


The Mystery of Lord Voldemort's Nose

Everyone has different theories about what, exactly, happened to the Dark Lord's nose. Some theories are absurd (honestly, did people REALLY think there was an Invisibility Cloak made for a nose?) while others... Others come closer to the truth. But this is getting nowhere. The world wants to know where the evil nose went, and the world shall find out.

It started, of course, with our favorite evil Dark wizard.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, aka the Dark Lord, aka Lord Voldemort, woke up early. Too early. It was an ungodly hour, 7:09 in the morning. No one in their right mind woke up then. Except for him. And why was he up that early? Simply because he had a terrible nightmare that left him clutching his covers (and face) for a full fifteen minutes after waking.

See, in this nightmare, Voldemort had been associating with filthy muggles. It was horrifying, the mere thought of it. But that was only the beginning, and the nightmare would become worse as it went on. So, Voldemort was at a Muggle party, wearing Muggle clothes, talking to Muggle girls, and drinking Muggle drinks. And he couldn't help but overhear a conversation between two people who looked suspiciously like Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange.

Now, Voldemort couldn't hear every word of the conversation, but judging by the way the Death Eaters kept glancing at him, he was pretty sure they sure talking about him. A few words stood out. Especially the sentence, "He desperately needs a nose job," coming from pretty boy Lucius I-Wear-a-Bow-in-My-Hair Malfoy. Why he of all people would be at a Muggle party was beyond Voldemort, but then it was just a dream, and dreams are odd things.

Anyways, Voldemort wasn't sure what exactly a nose job was, but resolved to find out. Coincidentally enough, a rather large sign fell from the ceiling, advertising a plastic surgery place down the road, featuring nose jobs. Needless to say, Voldemort went to the plastic surgery place, and before he knew it, he had gotten one.

So he went back to Death Eater headquarters, and called in none other than his faithful servant Severus Snape. Voldemort trusted him, because why would Snape EVER decide to join the Muggle-loving fool Dumbledore's side after Voldemort would kill the one person Snape would ever love? There was a loud pop as Snape apparated in. He took one look at Voldemort before developing a rare laughing-coughing issue that made him run from the room. It was odd and unsettling, to say the least. That and Snape's hair wasn't greasy and oily as it usually was.

Curious about the potions master's reaction, Voldemort magicked up a mirror, and looked at his reflection in horror. Someone, some evil bastard who was out to ridicule the most powerful Dark wizard of all time, had STOLEN his very nose.

OoOoOoO

Tom woke up, wide-eyed, and nervously touched his face. Yes, his beloved nose was still there. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and fell back down on his bed. His heart was racing. After the horror of that nightmare, who's heart wouldn't be racing? Even a disgusting Muggle-

A sudden thought and suspicion entered Voldemort's evil mind. Muggles had noses. Noses were for Muggles. Muggles were gross and disgusting and a waste of space that didn't deserve to live. And anything that had to do with Muggles suffered that same fate: the fate of doom and death, its ultimate destruction. Therefore, by that logic, a nose that both he (the amazingly evil dark lord) and muggles (who were dirty, filthy creatures) shared would have to go (and by 'go' he meant disappear, which meant die). Noses were now Voldemort's enemy.

And everyone knew what happened to an enemy of the Dark Lord Voldemort. They were exterminated. Like stupid old Dumbledore and Harry Potter would be. And Muggles and Mudbloods, too. (Oh, and don't forget the blood traiters and other Muggle-loving fools.)

Oh yes, his nose would be extinguished. It would be as if it never existed (oh, if only muggles had the same fate). And that would make Voldemort happy, and a happy Voldemort was very rare. So rare, that so far the only record of Voldemort being happy after becoming the Dark Lord was when there was a massacre of small Muggle children, which were left for Greyback to feast upon (with only a spoon. Not even a fork, or a knife, or a spork. Just a spoon). And that only happened once.

Before Voldemort could get distracted by the lovely thoughts of killing innocent people, he stumbled out of bed and got out a roll of parchment and a quill. It took him a while to find some ink, but at last his search was successful, and he was able to sit down. He dipped the quill in green ink and put the quill to parchment and wrote.

Muggles = Disgusting things that deserve to die
Muggles = have noses.
Noses = Disgusting things that deserve to die because of their association with filthy muggles

Me: I have a nose. (the horror!)
MY nose = IT MAKES ME LOOK UGLY! like a Muggle!
I: do not deserve to die, because I AM BETTER THAN DEATH, you fools!
So...
my nose = deserves to die
...
How to get rid of nose…..: Cutting curse, knife, sharp edge, blade, magic, plastic surgery... Disillusionment charm, invisibility charm…?

Well, he could come up with a plan to get rid of his nose later, couldn't he? For now, he had more pressing matters at hand. Like that one spot on his bald head that was growing hair.

OoOoOoO

That night found the Dark Lord in a rather odd predicament. It seemed as if Lucius had taken a liking to annoying Fenrir Greyback and his cannibalism. This wouldn't ordinarily bother the Dark Lord, but seeing as Greyback was annoyingly pacing angrily in front of him...

"What is Malfoy's problem? I told him that if he had any issues with those Ministry fools that he could come to me! I could instill fear into them! Better yet, I could eat one of them and then they'd all listen to me! Or Malfoy," Greyback muttered grudgingly. "Maybe one day I'll get my revenge on Malfoy. I think his wife would make a tasty dessert. Or perhaps his son. The athletic ones are always more delectable…" He stopped his rant and looked down at the fork and knife he was holding in his hands. He imagined stabbing a Malfoy with it, and laughed evilly.

"Greyback, drop your fork and knife NOW!" Voldemort shouted, getting annoyed (not to mention, suspicious) by the mentioned eating utensils. They were reflecting light every time Greyback took a step, and it was working on Voldemort's last nerve.

"I WANT TO FREAKIN' EAT SOMEONE!" Greyback shouted, kicking the wall angrily. "Or kill someone, at least."

"Don't you DARE harm my wall, you bastard," said Voldemort angrily, and promptly sent a nice crucio Fenrir's way. His screams of pain satisfied Voldemort, and he (reluctantly) lifted the curse.

"My Lord-" Greyback started before coming to a halt. He had an odd glint in his eyes, and started walking towards Voldemort, his fork and knife raised. Voldemort was, surprisingly, just a bit creeped out.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm gonna eat you!" Greyback shouted in a sing-song voice that was strangely similar to Bellatrix's when she was torturing her victims. The werewolf suddenly lunged towards the Dark Lord, who was frozen in disbelief/shock/disgust. He swung his knife at Voldemort's face, and then blood splattered everywhere. Then a fork was stabbed into the mess, and out came a nose. Greyback leaned away, and looked at his fork with mild interest.

"A Dark Lord's nose, hopefully it'll be tasty!" he said in an oddly cheerful voice before lifting the fork to his mouth. He chewed the nose, swallowed, and spit out a tiny piece of bone. "Yum." Greyback licked his lips and apparated away, leaving a very shell-shocked Voldemort to ponder just what had happened.

A couple healing charms later, and a stinging pain in the center of his face, which was covered in blood, proved that Fenrir Greyback did, indeed, devour his nose.

A letter appeared in midair right in front of Voldemort. He calmly unfolded the crumpled piece of parchment that was splattered with blood and drool, and read the following message: 'Haha, I got your nose!'

Voldemort seethed. He WOULD get his nose back, even if it did mean that someone would have to dissect a werewolf with cannibalistic tendencies. But who would do something that disgusting? Voldemort's eyes lit up, and he stuck his head in the nearest fireplace with green flames.

"Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, I require a task for the two of you to do..."