Yo. Apparently hunger provides inspiration. Thank you to all readers so far!

Voldemort woke abruptly. Groaning, he lay in place, pain coursing through his entire body. Tensing, he tried to look around, but his head felt as if it were about to explode. ...Why was he on the floor?

Nagini slithered into the room, and then hissed in joy when she realized the Dark Lord was awake. She rushed over to him immediately. "Master! You're awake!"

"Nagini? What-?" Stomaching the pain, Voldemort forced himself into a sitting position. Grimacing, he looked down at himself, taking note of his torn, blood stained robes.

"You have been unconscious a long time, Master," the snake informed him. "Today is the thirty first of December. The pretty, evil owl has left you lots of letters."

Grunting in response, Voldemort pulled out his wand and summoned his potion kit to him, and began to heal himself up, somewhat surprised by the severity of his wounds. Fucking incompetent Death Eaters! Fucking traps! Fucking Dumbledore and his god damn Order!

Angry now, he downed potions and healed himself to the best of his ability. Once the pain faded, he rose to his feet and stripped out of his dirty robes and cleaned up, Nagini keeping silent, no doubt aware of the fury he was currently feeling.

Once he had showered, dressed, and eaten, Voldemort, while still angry, felt much calmer now, and made his way to his study, pondering over what had happened and what steps he should take now.

Spotting at least half a dozen rolls of parchment on his desk, he paused in surprise for a second, before reading them. They were all letters, each one from Potter, and all of them expressing more concern than the last.

...Concern? Why in Salazar's name would Potter be feeling concern for him of all people?

Frowning, he set the letters back down onto his desk, and stared at them in confusion. The teen was apparently worried for not having heard from him recently, approximately three weeks, in fact.

...Three weeks. Those idiots were going to pay dearly for falling for the old man's trap and nearly causing his death when he had gone to salvage the situation they had so royally fucked up.

If he hadn't been immortal, Voldemort knew he would have died, and all that served to do was make him angrier. He was the Dark Lord! He shouldn't have ended up in the condition he had woken in!

He pulled out his wand once more, and fingered the yew, debating on summoning the stupid idiots in order to punish them, when a familiar white feathered owl flew in through the open window, and landed elegantly on the desk in front of him, hooting in what sounded like relief.

Smiling just slightly at the now common sight, Voldemort stroked the owl's feathers, while he used his other hand to untie the roll of parchment and the parcel she had brought him. Then he summoned some treats for the bird, and focused his attention on the letter.

Voldemort,

So, it's been just about three weeks, and there's still no sign of you. I kind of hope you're just mad at me and are childishly ignoring me for some reason. But something tells me that isn't the case. I know something's happened, but either no one else knows what, or they're deliberately not telling me. Honestly, at this point, I don't know which is more likely.

Things here at Hogwarts have pretty much gone back to how it was before all this started. All the doubts and questions are fading. There hasn't been any new, relevant information in the paper since that last article, and you haven't accused Dumbledore of anything either, and I know there isn't anything I can do on my own here. It would never be taken seriously.

I don't know what happened to you, but today's December thirty first so, as promised, I'm sending you a present. I have a feeling you'll either like it, or kill me for my...impudence, as Snape so kindly and often puts it.

Happy birthday, Voldemort. I hope...I hope you're okay.

Harry Potter

Slowly, Voldemort lowered the letter and picked up the parcel. It was quite small and light. What could it possibly be?

He pulled the paper off, and then opened it. Sitting inside the little box was his gift, and another, much shorter letter, informing him what it was and instructing him on how to use it.

Voldemort took the gift out of the box, and held it up to the light streaming in from the window, examining it closely as it glowed. And then he began to chuckle, his voice low and deep.

"Well, well, well. Here now I hold the key to not only my revenge, but also my success." A smile crossed his pale face. "It seems you and I will both soon get all that we desire, dear Harry." His smile turned into a satisfied smirk.

I like how so many of you assumed Voldemort was ignoring Harry because of the dream. Nope. It was actually because he was unconscious and nearly died. I think the humour should be making a bit of a comeback in the next chapter. And yes, you'll also learn what Voldemort's birthday present was! Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!