Yo! If you're no longer enjoying what you're reading, just...stop reading? Thank you to all readers so far!

Voldemort sat on his throne, impatiently waiting for Potter's reply. He'd locked the damned Furby in a room with Bellatrix. It had begun calling her 'mommy'. She was terrified of it. He didn't blame her.

For once.

He was quite pleased when Potter's owl flew into the room, and he took the letter from her immediately, impassive eyes scanning the parchment quickly, eager to find a new counter.

'Voldemort,

I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier, but have you tried taking the batteries out of it? If that doesn't work, toss the fucker into the most active volcano in the world like it's the bloody One Ring.

Better yet, strap it to Wormtail and toss them both into the damn volcano. If that doesn't work either, lock it (and Wormtail) in a room with a Dementor. Maybe it has a soul now.

By the way, any idea why no one in the Order seems to give a damn that I'm writing to you? It's bloody weird, and I'm pretty sure they know, considering they read my mail before I do.

Harry Potter'

Voldemort raised a brow, momentarily forgetting about the Furby as he focused on the end of the letter.

The Order of the Phoenix knew he and Potter were writing to one another, but didn't care about it? That was...strange. Why were they still letting the boy write to him then? It wasn't as if he had bothered spelling the letter against anyone else reading it or anything. Neither were they writing in Parselscript.

Deciding to put it behind him for the time being, Voldemort summoned the Furby to himself, ignoring Bellatrix's cry of relief.

"Daddy! Daddy, daddy, daddy!"

Grimacing, Voldemort grabbed the toy, flipped it around, yanked off the cover, and tore the batteries out, vanishing them like he hadn't been able to do to the Furby.

"Daddy! Daddy! Da-" It broke off mid-word and fell silent.

Relieved, but not willing to get his hopes up, Voldemort decided it would be best to wait before getting excited. Just in case. Better yet...

As Potter had suggested in his letter, he apparated straight to the most active volcano he knew of and with a very triumphant evil laugh, dropped the fluffy toy within its depths. He stood there in the intense heat, watching as the Furby hit the lava and began to melt. Once it had been entirely incinerated, he grinned like the proud Dark Lord he was and returned home.


When Voldemort woke the next morning, he felt very cautious, worried his actions from the day before had failed like all other attempts thus far. He searched his entire manor, but didn't see hide or hair (or the equivalent) of the wretched Furby.

His relief only grew.

Suddenly, an owl flew into the room, drawing his attention to it. The first thing he noticed was that the bird didn't belong to Potter. In fact, he was quick to realize it belonged to none other than Severus Snape.

Wait, did that mean-?

He took the roll of parchment and read over it carefully, a maniacal grin growing larger with each word. Finally, he began to chuckle, the sound starting off slow and deep, and getting louder and higher, echoing eerily within the vacated room.

"Finally! Muahahahaha!"

His latest plans were about to come to fruition.

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