Harry Potter stood rooted to the spot holding Snape's letter, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"If I'd known that evil villains didn't smoke pot, there might not be a story right now… because I would have never joined Voldemort," said Harry.

"Hello. I'm right here, you don't need to refer to me in the third person. Oh, and by the way, saying 'evil villains' is a bit redundant, also, it's against my religion," snapped Voldemort.

"Against your religion? What are you anyway, some kind of Satanist or what?"

"Take that back!"

"What?"

"Don't you know, no self-respecting villain is a Satanist. It's against the Evil-Doers' Convention of 73"

"You mean 1973?"

"No, just 73. Hey, don't you have a name to pick?"

"I thought I already picked one in the previous chapter…"

"Well, you still need to formalize it."

"Well, I can't go with Ivan, as soon as the papers hear I joined you they'll start calling me 'the next Ivan the Terrible' or some such bullcrap. So, it's impossible to avoid stereotyping names, I guess I'll just go with Ivan as my 'real' name and I'll stick with Damien as the name other Slytherins call me, or at least the ones I can trust."

"Okay, sign here, here, and here, new initials here, blood sample here, your home phone number here, your age in binary here, your cake preferences here, and the stupid anti-bot security code goes here," said Voldemort, pointing to several random parts of the contract.

"Hey, wasn't I tired and decided to go to bed? Yeah, I think I was… Hey, do you ever notice that continuity apparently means nothing to the narrator?" asked Harry.

Voldemort was, himself, wondering the same thing. However, instead of discussing the matter properly, he simply told Harry to go to bed. To which Harry replied with an angry 'so get the [censored] out of my tent then'. Which then resulted in a stream of colourful dialogue from Voldemort that has been censored in the interests of good tastes, even though this is an M-rated comedy fanfiction and good taste means nothing here.

The next day, Voldemort woke up uncharacteristically late, he had slept until noon, Harry was waiting in a random tent with what looked like a perfume sprayer, a water bottle, his Dark Magic textbooks, and several photographs of Lenin.

"Harry, what are you doing?" asked Voldemort sleepily.

"I want to show you this stuff."

"What's this stuff then?"

"Well, this here is bottled Communism, or 'Lenin in a Bottle'" said Harry, holding up the water bottle "And this is Eau de Stalin. I also got Laika: the fragrance, and Eau de Lenin. I also found a working model of Chernobyl power plant in a magically sealed container but it kept exploding so I threw it away,"

"Where did you get all this crap? I mean 'Laika: the fragrance'? Why do you want to smell like a dead dog that orbited the planet for a few days? And WHY are you pasting Lenin's picture over mine at the front of your textbooks?"

"I got it all at Red Square in Moscow, and I think you're too vain so I'm covering up your picture in the textbooks, so there! The narrator told me not to but I did it anyway"

Exactly, I tell you not to do something and you do it anyway. You know what? If you don't listen to me from now on, I'll turn this story into a cheesy romance fic with really nasty sex scenes.

"You wouldn't!" said Harry, horrified.

Yes I would. I wouldn't try anything if I were you.

"But… the only characters right now are me and him…" said Harry, pointing at Voldemort "And that's just wrong!"

You know, this is the 21st century, and gay relationships are growing ever more common, a fanfic like that wouldn't be considered wrong anymore.

"It's not that, it's the fact that he's about a thousand years older than me"

That's not true. He's only maybe a hundred years older than you at the most. Okay, I'll let you off this time, but just remember, if you ever step out of line… I am the one with the computer after all.

"All right, all right. I'll behave"

W00t, I am 1337! Although, I'm going to stop using 1337 and use just plain leet in normal text. From now on 'Leet' means awesome and it's a real word. I will also occasionally use world like 'noob', 'epic', 'fail', 'epic fail', and 'cake', the last one meaning 'lie'. And by the way, the VoldieTek Personnel (and Uranium) Enrichment Centre reminds you that killing the narrator will result in a 'fail' in all your school courses, followed by death. Thank you, and have a nice Portal-ripping-off day! Remember: We do what we must, because we have to. And: We do what we want, because we can. Both are oxymorons (not really) and the mottos of VoldieTek.

(Author's Note: sorry about the long wait for this chapter)

(Another Note: Please stay tuned for the next not-so-exciting adventure: in which Harry, alias Ivan alias Damien finally goes to Hogwarts, maybe. Also watch out for the introduction of a Mary Sue, namely Mary Sue. XD)