A/N: I was ecstatic with the number of reviews last chapter, I was glad that you all liked it. As always, these days, reviewer responses are on my LiveJournal, the address of which can be found in my profile, or, go to www. livejournal . com / user / Avada Cruimperio / (take out all the spaces).

When I was eleven I got my head stuck ina revolving door.

I'm random.

Disclaimer: Do I even need to say it? -legal people throw books at my head- Okay, apparently I do. I don't own Harry Potter -more books are thrown- Or any of J.K. Rowling's characters OR -catches book- plots or ideas. It's all hers. 'Cept the stuff that's mine.

Rodolphus stared up at the tall building. "I thought you said that we were going to the Quidditch Hall Of Fame."

"I did." Voldemort came up behind him. "So- oh."

What had once been the American Quidditch Hall Of Fame was now the Building Of Registry For All Fanfiction Harry Potter Based Writer-Created Characters.

Snape voiced their feelings. "What does that even mean?"

"I think," Blaise retorted, "that it's a place fanfiction writers go to register their characters that they've created and put in their Harry Potter stories."

"No crap." Snape shot back. "What I should have said is "What the hell?""

A teenage girl glared at them and tapped her foot anxiously. "Listen, buddy, I've gotta put up my new story by eight o'clock and if I don't register my character, I'm screwed. The place closes at seven. It's six-thirty."

"So?" Bellatrix sneered.

"You're blocking the door."

"Geez, sorry."

They all went through the revolving doors. Lucius was very amused by the doors, and ran around in circles in it.

"Lucius, get in here!" Voldemort rolled his eyes.

Lucius bounded out- unfortunately, at the wrong moment.

"Ahh!"

"Who in the world besides a Malfoy could get their head stuck in a revolving door?" Snape asked.

"Help! Help! I'm stuck! Ouch!"

People outside were looking murderously at the Death Eaters.

Voldemort casually blasted the entrance apart.

Befuddled fanfiction writers stepped through the rubble, looking oddly at the minions and their leader, but saying nothing.

Lucius conjured up a mirror, and hastily brushed his hair. "Oh, my goodness, Voldemort, did you have to do that? My hair looks horrible! I'll have concrete in it for a week!"

"Sometimes I worry about your sexuality," Rodolphus muttered under his breath.

"Ahem," someone coughed. The group turned to see a bored-looking man in a black suit. "You want in, you gotta go through security."

Everyone looked confused.

The man sighed. "No, I said, I don't want to be a doctor, Mom, I want to be a security guard for stupid authors that probably are as dangerous as a snail with training wheels. I should have gone to college, I should have-"

"So what do we have to do?" Snape interrupted.

"Place all loose objects in this tray, and step over the threshold."

Ten pockets were empty and a tray heavily laded with watches, wands, Galleons, books, Death Eater membership cards, bracelets, and wallets.

Everyone got through the metal detector without problem- except, of course, for Lucius.

"Anything metal under the cloak?" the guard asked.

Lucius looked guilty. "No."

"What is it?"

"So what if I like to wear boxers made out of pure silver!" he blurted out.

The guard scooted away in disgust. "Sick, man, sick. Take your stuff and go!"

"You wear metal underwear?" Draco asked his father as soon as they were out of earshot of security.

Lucius turned a lovely shade of crimson.

The group put their heads together and conversed in whispers, occasionally stealing glances at the other patrons.

"What are we going to do?" Bella asked.

"Who out of the ten of us could pass for a fanfiction writer?" Voldemort asked.

Everyone stared at Marissa.

"Why me?" she asked.

"Because," Voldemort said of it exasperatedly, "A, you're the right age. B, no one will recognize you. They all know us. Come to think of it though, you're probably in the files here somewhere-"

"Damn right, she is."

They all turned.

"Not you again." Snape moaned.

Avada Cruimperio glared at him. "Look out the window."

Snape's head turned. "AHHH! A rainbow!"

"What are you all doing here?" she hissed.

"Hiding my Horcrux."

"You idiots were supposed to be in the Quidditch Hall Of Fame."

"It's gone!"

"That would be because it's in Cincinnati, not Chicago, you dunderheads."

"Ohhhhhhhh."

"Why are you here, anyways?" Snape had apparently recovered from the sight of the rainbow.

"Because I just am. Anyways, as long as you're here, you may as well hide it. But if you dare to injure any of my reviewers in the process…" She slid a finger across her throat.

"Fine."

With a puff of silver shiny smoke, Avada disappeared.

"Alright. I say, we find Marissa's record, and turn that into the Horcrux." Voldemort suggested.

Marissa looked nervous. "That won't kill me, or anything, will it?"

"I don't think so."

"Okay…"

Voldemort marched up to a desk. "I am the all-power-"

"Let me handle it." Marissa interrupted. "Hi, I'm Avada Cruimperio, and-

The clerk eyed her suspiciously. "You don't look like her."

She glanced in Voldemort's direction.

"Act like her!" Voldemort mouthed.

Marissa turned back to the clerk. "Are you saying that I'm not Avada Cruimperio? You don't even recognize your own customers! You are unfit to work here! Let me talk to your manager! I will make sure that you're fired!"

The clerk looked wildly around. "No! No! Look, Ms. Cruimperio, that's really not necessary. What do you want? Anything, anything at all."

"Er, I want a look at one of my files… I think…"

"File? Which one? You have so many…"

"I do?"

"Yes… you're sure you're Avada Cruimperio?"

"Manager!"

"Of course you are!"

"Exactly. Is there something on a Marissa-"

"You?"

"Huh?"

"That's you. Marissa. That's your name. It's also the name of two of your characters."

"Wow, she must- I mean, I must really like my name. So, er, could I take a look at the Marissa from Making Frie-"

"Of course! Have a great day!"

He handed her a sheet of paper.

"I'll, er, bring it back soon."

Voldemort rushed them away.

"Okay, I'm going to perform the highly difficult and immensely dangerous spell used to separate my soul. I may die in the process. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Abra Cadabra!"

POOF.

Voldemort had turned into a stuffed pink hippo.

"Mr. Fluffers?" Snape asked incredulously.

Turn me back, you fool! Vold- er, Mr. Fluffers thought.

Bellatrix sighed, and swished her wand.

Voldemort appeared back in human form. "Yeah, totally forgot that I changed the spell. I've got it now. Changio Into Horcruxio!"

The piece of paper screamed. "AHHHHHH! I'M ALIVE! I'M A SEVENTH OF VOLDEMORT'S SOUL!", spat oatmeal at them, and then fell silent.

"Does that always happen?" Marissa asked curiously.

Voldemort had his arms crossed protectively ove his head. He slowly lowered them.

"Go take it back to the clerk," he instructed. "If we don't get rid of it in the next five minutes, it starts reciting the Quaker Oats commercial.

She quickly ran it over, and came back. "What now?"

Voldemort checked his watch. "Well, it's only six forty-five. We don't have to be back at the hotel until nine."

"Let's go out for dinner!" Draco suggested.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ten Death Eaters, clad in dark hooded robes, sat awkwardly at a table in Wizarding Chicago's number one restaurant, Pumpkin Juice. They had received many strange looks from people sitting around them.

"I feel like such an idiot," Snape mumbled.

Lucius had a permanent smile plastered on his face. "Just smile and look cute, Snape."

Bellatrix sniggered. "Since when is Snape cute?"

Rodolphus signaled over a waiter. "Excuse me, could I get some crayons?"

The waiter slowly backed away.

Ro sighed. "Bella dearest, do you have a pen I can borrow?"

"Grow up, Ro," Blaise rolled his eyes.

Voldemort intently studied the menu.

Crabbe and Goyle were busy reading the specials of the day upside-down.

Marissa sipped her water. "What's wrong with Draco?" she asked Rabstan in a low tone.

Rabastan remembered she wouldn't know. She had been in the bathroom with Bella when their procession had been attacked by hoards of Muggle girls, screaming "Tom! Tom! Oh, my God, it's Tom Felton!" at Draco.

Blaise snorted. He leaned in towards his friend. "Tom! Can I have your autograph?" he asked softly.

Draco shot up in his seat. "Get away!" he screamed, jumping out of his seat and running outside.

They all sent Lucius an apprehensive glance.

"Your kid's nuts," Snape spoke up.

Lucius glared at him. "We prefer the term 'sanely challenged'."

A/N: Since you all seemed to like me little spiel with Draco to get you guys to review… here's another scene.

Snape: Don't you torture me enough as it is?

Avada Cruimperio: Rainbow.

Snape: Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!

Avada: Pennsylvania.

Snape: Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!

Avada: Pennsylvania on a rainbow.

Snape: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Avada: Read. -points at screen-

Snape: I hate you.

Avada: Read!

Snape: Reviewing is great, reviewing is cool. Reviewers rock and un-reviewers drool. Who in God's name wrote that?

Draco: Isn't it simply wonderful? It's probably the best poem I've ever written.

Avada: Read the other one.

Snape: Reviewers are good, reviews are fine. Reviews put Avada on Cloud Nine. That was, if possible, worse.

Lucius: Aren't I such a good poet?

-crickets chirp-