Mann, I'm going to miss this once I've finished. I actually enjoy writing the chapters:D There's only two more chapters left and its finished! Woohoo!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

George Weasley

Voldemort raised his eyebrows furtively at the contraption set in front of him, trying to figure out what it was for and why he would ever even want to use something that looked and felt like what would be the produce should some one decide to skin a person. Giving up, he looked up at the grinning face of George Weasley who, despite initial reservations of sitting with the man whose Deatheater had killed his twin, had taken this prime opportunity to advertise some of his latest gizmos from his former co-owned 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes'.

"Alright. You've tricked me. What is this thing?" Voldemort asked, not particularly caring in what the answer might be.

Regardless of this – and for the advertisement purposes, probably – George kept on his merry smile and held it up for all to see. Voldemort felt like explaining the difference between a talk show and the shopping channel but decided to leave it. Having a prankster as an enemy would be unwise. "This, my snake-like friend, are called 'Extendable Ears', and just like the name says, they're ears that extend to the places which human ones can't. Let me give you a demonstration!"

"That's quite alright. I assure you that my mental capacity enables me to make the connection about how they might work," Voltaire said, trying to hold his disdain and annoyance inside of himself for as long as possible. To plan ahead, he had demanded that his assistant ensure there were plenty of pillows to scream into after the show. "They were the things that shot you into the world of commercial success, wasn't it? And, I'm sure you're proud to know, they were also one of the many gimmicks used during my destruction."

George winked. "Of course they were. Pure magic, that's what they are. Wizarding genius at its finest. Trust me, you'll never see a competitor beat us in the sales chart. Well, me I suppose it us now. Funny that. After so many years of flying solo I still always think of my business as a partnership..." His expression changed to one of sombre regret and Voldemort felt like rolling his eyes but refrained. Things like this just irked him. Why couldn't he just get over it? "I thought I wouldn't make it after Fred...you know..."

"Was murdered?" The Dark Lord offered helpfully. "Yes, unfortunate business that. Teenagers, eh? They always rush into things so recklessly thinking they can take on the world."

"I wouldn't exactly call Bellatrix Lestrange 'the world'."

"No? Well I suppose Bellatrix contributes more to global warming than is affected by it. But moving on, why don't you explain some more of your little jokes."

George, never one to waste an opportunity, tossed his long yet groomed red hair and grinned dashingly for the cameras. Voldemort wondered if this particular Weasley (who he was finding wasn't as contemptible as most of them) was married or had a girlfriend. From a lack of a ring and from his great looks Voldemort deduced it was probably the latter unless he was some kind of a playboy. If this was the case, kudos to him. At least he was having some kind of contact with the opposite sex which was more than he could say for himself. Irritatingly enough, Voldemort found himself kind of envious. Had he not turned to the Dark Arts he could be sitting where George Weasley was sitting: good looking, successful and admired by all. At least small graces were being granted to him. In his rebirth he was noticing that some of his handsomeness was returning to fit in with the young-ish age (he was glad of this fact since if he had been reborn at the age he had died that he probably wouldn't have too many years left) he had found himself born into. This was probably a direct result of not having Horcruxes so take away his handsome humanity. Pity, that. If he would have known that creating so many soul dividers would have altered his looks then he might have created fewer of them. Maybe. Probably. No, that was a lie. He wouldn't have changed a thing.

The Weasley boy delved into the briefcase he had brought with him and produced a wooden frame with a man standing on the lower platform of a few stairs. He grinned wickedly up at Voldemort. "This is one for you. It's 'Re-usable Hangman'. I'm sure you know the game. You pick a names or something like it and the other players have to guess it by picking letters. For every letter you get wrong, the man moves closer to the gallows and if you don't spell he, he swings!"

A grin much like George's though frightfully more frightful appeared on his face. "How fantastically fiendish! Is there blood? I can only ever enjoy colour when it's dripping from some one's injuries."

George handed the game to Voldemort. "This is for you. A present or whatever you want to call it." He took a wooden box out from his briefcase and opened it up, portraying a collection of bottles and boxed all marked 'Wonder Witch'. They were all packaged in a colour Voldemort could only describe as violent pink. "These little beauties are from our Wonder Witch range, popular with all teenage brooding witches and have been since their release. Among many of our newest range are our old favorites the love potion and our guaranteed or money back Ten Second Pimple Vanisher."

Voldemort looked at these with mild curiosity and a vague memory of Draco Malfoy using the Pimple formula dawned on his mind and faded again. He thought at the time the boy had been coming our of the closet but it turns out in actual fact he was just caring for teenage acne. He had to admit than even in some cases, the Dark Lord can be mistaken.

"What about your latest range?" Voldemort questioned, trying to move on to a subject that may be interesting, especially if this Weasley had created more products like his hangman game.

His eyes sparkled mischievously. "Good question, Voldy my friend, good question. Stand up for a second and take a look at this." He wasn't all that certain he enjoyed being referred to Voldy but it was much better in comparison to some of the things he had been called in the past so he decided to let it by for now. In compliance, he stood up to look at whatever it was George was trying to conjure with his wand but nothing was there. "Oops. Sorry, but I think they must be out of stock at the moment. Never mind."

Voldemort sat back down again with some annoyance and when he did, a sound so embarrassingly familiar which he thought would never have been produced from him wafted into the air and with it, a very powerful stench. Had he any skin pigments he was sure his face would flare red. He had two choices. Either address the crime directly or ignore it.

"Stand up again, Voldemort and look at your chair!" George yelled raucously in between fits of giggles. Voldemort did so and was surprised to see an odd red cushion sitting right where his rear end had just been. He picked it up distastefully. "That, my former Dark Lord, is an invisible fart cushion, essenced with the aroma of real fart."

Voldemort had to admit he was very impressed by this Weasley's magic. It took some real genius and aptitude to create such clever pranks, tricks and potions. "I have a question for you, where were you during the war? I could have used some one like you and your twin to invent creations that could never be beaten. Think about it, had you joined my side your twin would still be living and you would have been greater than any other witching inventor ever known!"

"That brings me to another product and it involves Fred," George said. "This has been the major focus of my attention since he passed away all those years ago and I've finally perfected it for sale. Get this cuase it might just interest you!" This time he produced an item that much resembled a muggle telephone. "This has been inspired by muggles but advanced by magic. It's the Weasley Brother's Telephone to the After Life. I'll show you how it works. All you need to do it think up some one who has passed on and then dial the letters of their full name. It's as simple as that!" He followed all these directions and with a wink at Voldemort, lifted up the reciever.

"George, I swear God if this is you again I'm going to personally come back and haunt you! I'm with the spirit of a descendant of Fleur here. You know what that means for me. Give me a break!"

"Sorry Fred," George replied. "This is our first public airing. The phones are now ready for sale and I'm giving the world a preview of how they work. Anything to say to the land of the living?"

There was silence from the other end of the receiver for a few seconds. "Yeah, actually. I just want to see that England Quidditch team all the way! And that Bellia Delacour is a sex-"

"Fred this is a family show!" George hissed quickly.

"Oh, sorry. I guess that's something for me to tell you later on. I need to go. She's coming back with oils. Have fun!"

George hung up the phone and smiled charismatically at Voldemort. "How's that for a wizarding invention? And I'm only at the start of my magical career. You can expect many products like it for years to come, so long as you don't rise up again and decide to kill off the other Weasley twin."

"Oh no. My day of Ministry revolting are way past. I'm going to focus my attention on less frivolous things. I don't know what like, but I'm sure I will in due time."

"You could join in with the Ministry and help then to defend against the Dark Arts," George suggested.

Voldemort looked at him like he was insane. "I revel in the Dark Arts. Why would I want to defend against them?" He shook his head and sighed. "Being a Dark Lord these days just isn't what it used to be. God knows what will become of me after this."

"Why don't you pull a Snape and disappear?"

"'Pull a Snape and disappear'?" He repeated thoughtfully. "That would be an idea. However, Snape was only contracted to live for the one episode. I'm contracted to live out the rest of my life starting at whatever age I am now."

"I would say thirty," George said unhelpfully.

"Whatever. I'm doomed to bear this mortal coil until death takes me."

"Aren't we all," his guest said, nodding in mock remorse.

Voldemort turned his fading snake eyes at the un-twinned twin. "You've been a good guest so far and one whom I have enjoyed. I would ike to take this opportunity to remind you that I am slowly regaining my strength each week. In short, don't push your luck."

George saluted. "Aye, aye, sir!"

Choosing to ignore this, Voldemort turned to his audience. "Our time is up now. Join me next week for a mystery guest whose identity I don't even know. Please show your appreciation for some one who has been the best guest so far." There were many whoops and cat calls, too many for Voldemort's liking. "That's plenty."

"Can I just say, thanks for having me on, Voldemort. You're alright."

"Thank you, George. I have a favour to ask you." George titled his head up. "Can you leave me an order form for Weasley Wizard Wheezes?"

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