Title: Mini-Me

Author: P.L.S.

Summery: Voldemort gets a parcel with a very interesting toy inside.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, besides I don't want to own him... I want Tom Riddle or Lucius Malfoy or Severus Snape or Rodolphus LeStrange.

Author's Note: I blame the photo of Lord Voldemort. You should too. That and the comparison of the new pope to one of the Sith Lords.

ooOooOoo

I'm not grey. I am not that fat. I do not look like that farsical lump of plastic. Nagani was curled around his desk chair, hissing out about how badly her master was represented and how he was surely powerful enough to kill the artist responcible. Voldemort was grateful for sycophanic serpents, and he started listing just how wrong the action figure was. And it was an action figure. Dolls were for girls and he honestly wouldn't give anything in his image, correct or not, to a girl. Nor could he think of anyone, outside of the LeStranges and that Crouch heir, who would. Well, Petigrew might, but only if he had something to be gained or was ordered to do so.

I don't even HAVE a nose! he said suddenly drawn back to the abhorrent creation that was stuck in a rediculous pose.

How do you think I feel? At first I looked like a tomboy, now I look like a cross between a constipated corpse and a guy one operation away from being part of the fairer sex. Voldemort looked up. No one was there.

I'm asleep, thus I'm in your head. Hello. Volemort sighed. Everytime it suited the fanfic writers they amplified the link between himself and Potter, or worse. He hated being part of such an easy to take over story, he was always either the typical evil megolomaniac, a misunderstood boy possessed by a demon, or worse, a mailighned hero with horrid PR. It was enough to make him want to just run away to Alcopolco, or better yet reinvent the dimentional portal so he could go destroy a world that deserved it, like the one that spawned the evil known only as fanfic writers.

Potter, go away. I'm trying to vent my rage and frustration at being a media icon.

I'M a media icon, YOU'RE the guy who makes me look like a heroic good guy.

Oh, bugger off, you insecure little puppet. You know no one thinks that you really have a brain Pinochio. Voldemort felt a stab of foreign anger and he laughed long and evilly. Then he saw the misbegotten image mocking his greatness.

Oh hell, Verto Ego Minutum! the false idol turned into a slightly smaller, more moveable, realistic, and frankly cooler image of himself.

It kinda looks like Dudley's Star Wars action figure of one of those Sith guys.

Huh? Oh, yeah, it kind of does.