Yo! Thank you to all readers so far!

Voldemort was not in a good mood. He was looking into getting his old body back, but things weren't going well. While he would never admit it, Potter's comments about his lack of hair and nose irritated him. He scowled, though no one was there to see it, alone in his study as he was, with Severus just having left. He'd been hoping there was a potion out there that could help him, but according to his spy, there wasn't. Needless to say, Severus departed with orders to look into it immediately.

Of course, Voldemort wasn't doing this for Potter's sake. No, he told himself, the boy had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with this.

In the shadows of the room, Nagini hissed out a laugh.

A sudden tapping on the window drew his attention, and when he looked over, he spotted an owl perched on the sill on the other side of the glass. Eyes narrowed, he scowled again. "Fucking owl," he muttered in irritation. Nope, he was ignoring this. He had no desire whatsoever to deal with Potter or his damnable bird today. None at all.

So he turned his focus back to the paperwork he had yet to complete, attempting to disregard both the snowy white owl that was resting on his windowsill, and the laughing Nagini who was hidden somewhere in the room.

"Hoot."

"Sss."

Ignore it.

"Hoot."

"Sss."

Ignore it.

"Hoot."

"Sss."

Ignore i-

"HOOT!"

Voldemort slammed his hands down onto his desk, got to his feet, and stomped over to the window, glaring at the owl. But the bird merely stared back, almost in what looked like defiant determination. Figured that the brat just had to end up with an owl as annoying as him.

Voldemort knew he could always just kill the bird, but something was telling him that would be a horrible, futile idea. Besides, it would probably come back to haunt him as a ghost-owl, and who could he possibly call to help him with that?

So, with no other choice, he opened the window.

The owl bobbed its feathery head in a nod of approval. Scowl deepening, Voldemort took the letter, resisted the urge to slam the window shut like a child, and returned to his desk.

'Voldemort,

Please disregard any tears on the parchment. I was laughing so hard I cried at your stupid statement about me living a life of luxury. Man, that was a good one.

Anyway, my, my, doth the Dark Lord protest too much? You're the one who brought up the whole clown thing in the first place, not me. Why are you so defensive about it anyway? Did they force you to dress up like a clown at that orphanage or something?

By the way, I've enclosed a present for you. It did take some bribing, like I thought it would, but it was totally worth it, even if the image did scar me for life.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to mail these copies to other people so I can scar them for life too! Clowns are perfect for that. Guess which old man is number one on my list?

Harry Potter'

Voldemort wasted no time and quickly found the second page. There, crudely drawn by hand, was him...as a clown, complete with puffed up curly green hair, a red-painted grin, a round red rubber nose, massive orange and green polka-dotted pants, huge yellow shoes, and an unidentifiable flower in the middle of squirting out water. He held a cream pie in one of his hands, which even had a cherry on top. The title of the drawing, written in a messy, but familiar scrawl, was 'The Dark Clown Lord Voldemort'.

It was still terrifying, Voldemort decided, but not in the correct manner. He hated clowns-the bloody demonic things. And then he abruptly recalled what had been written in the final paragraph of the menace's letter. He made copies!

"POTTER!"

Nagini hissed in laughter.

That's it for now. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!