Thank you so much for all those great reviewers out there! You shall not burn in hell!

I'm just happy that this story that I've started writing not three days ago is such a success. Hopefully it'll continue to be as funny as you guys like it to be.

DC: I especially do not own Potter Puppet Pals. Or Italy. Or Harrods.

Colto! (Italian)

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It was a video camera. As Voldemort blew away the coating of cardboard dust, he could see it's spectacular modeling. He stroked it gently. Now, that Potter kid would die.

"Sir," Snape entered the room, wearing a flowery apron and holding a tray of tarts, still steaming from the oven, "Narcissa and I are going into the Harrods in town. We seem to be running low our Oolong Spice Mix, and you know I need that to wake up in the morning."

Voldemort glared at him icily. "Snape, we need you, if my plot is going to work."

"I'm sure it won't take long. I'll just put these strawberry tarts away and be gone for a little less than an hour."

"I – You – Oh, fine." The Dark Lord amended, even though Snape and Narcissa were already out the front door. "I suppose the Potter kid will be able to live another hour or two."

Impatient, Voldemort decided to pace as he waited for them to return. After a few minutes, he had to sit down to rest his legs.

The video camera was taunting him. Pick me up! The little voice said, Hold me! Love me! Show me attention! Show me you care! Listen to me –

Wait a second. That sounded like the ruddy conscience again. Didn't those things ever die? Voldemort looked into his mind. It was a one-room ranch. The conscience had fallen into the latrine. Please! Get me out of here!

You wish!

But if you don't you'll do something really stupid!

The Pimp'n Dark Lord is never stupid.

No, wait - !

But Voldemort had already cranked Sk8er Boi so high that his physical skull was vibrating slightly.

Now… He turned toward the video camera. "Where were we?"

Ooh, an uomo squisto! Gradisco![Ooh, a delicious man! I like!The camera giggled.

A breathy Italian. Life was sweet. "I want to pick you up, but I know I shouldn't."

Aw, per favore, signore? [Aw, please, sir?

"Well… You're awfully cute… But I know if I do, I'll break you, and Snape won't be able to help me."

Non potrebbe aiutarlo comunque… Ma posso. [He can't help you anyways… but I can.

Voldemort looked decisively around the room. "You're right, Breathy Italian Video Camera! That idiot Snape doesn't know a thing about technology anyways."

Esattamente! Cosí eliminilo, voi equipaggiano la caramella! [Exactly! So take me away, you hunk of man candy!

"Yes!" cried Voldemort. He snatched the camera, and held it triumphantly up.

It crumbled into assorted electronic pieces. Each part fell unusually slowly, one at a time, towards the ground.

"Nooooo! Bellina!!!" Voldemort hit the floor sobbing, as the remains of his one and only girlfriend crashed to the unforgiving rug. Beneath which lay two feet of granite.

Il mio… soltanto… amore… Nonlo dimentichi… mai… [My… only…. Love… Never forget… me…

She was gone.

A little less that an hour later, Snape and Narcissa entered the room to find a pitiful sight. Voldemort wearing a black veil, and still weeping quietly over Bellina's broken remains. He looked up at them, his face tear stained, and said, "We'll be holding the cremation ceremony in an hour…"

Simultaneously, Snape and Narcissa turned, erased what they had just seen out of their memories, and proceeded to the TV room.

Eventually the wailing got to be too much, and because Lucius couldn't concentrate on Ross and Emily, he sent Snape into Voldemort's lair to sort things out.

"My lord." Snape said flatly. "Can I help you?"

"Yes!" sobbed Voldemort. "Bring back Bellina! She's all I have left now!"

Snape stood there. He sighed. And rolled his eyes. Then he went over the cat-sized coffin, reached in and pulled out a completely flawless camera.

"Done. Can I go now?"

"wefhiojgoinlskdfjsdiojsd-" Voldemort said

"I'll take that as a yes."

"kjdfknkdfieoiewnkj!"

"I'll be downstairs."

"nbowiejkndkckasj…."

"Thank you, sir."

Snape left.

"How… how do you feel, my love?" Voldemort asked the camera.

Benissimo. A proposito, ho venduto la mia anima il diavolo mentre ero guasto. Spiacented. [Fine. By the way, I sold my soul to the devil while I was dead. Sorry.

"What does that mean for us?"

Mezzi che I ho truffato su voi. [It means I cheated on you.

Voldemort was frozen in mortified shock.

Ottenga sopra esso. [Get over it.

"Well." Voldemort said stiffly. "I guess we'll just have to set aside our difference, so we can get our job done. After that," he sniffed, "I'm leaving you."

Benissimo! [Fine!

"Fine!"

The two waited in stony silence. Snape unwillingly opened the door. "I believe you had plans involving me? My… lord."

"Yes I do. If you'll tell Bellina to turn on, we can begin."

Internally, Snape began beating himself over the head. This would not be a fun adventure.

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Harry read the title. It was suspicious. Although, like Hermione said, there were 6.5 billion people in the world, so it wasn't like it was completely unlikely.

"Hey, Harry!" Ron came up behind him. "What'cha lookn' at?"

"Potter Puppet Pals. On YouTube."

Ron unattractively scrunched his face up. "Potter Puppet Pals? What, are there some other Potter's in the world?"

"I guess. Shall we see what it is?"

"Sure."

Harry clicked the play.

The two watched agape.

"Wow…" Ron said when it had finished.

"No way…" Harry agreed.

"That was really coincidental!" they exclaimed together.

"Who would've though there would be two Harry Potters in the world, that looked exactly the same!"

"Or two Dumbledores, and two Snapes with greasy hair!"

"At least there's not a Hermione, other wise that would be really freaky!"

The boys laughed, because the clip of animated characters bothering Snape was just too funny, and after all, it was just a coincidence.

"Hey…" Harry said, scrolling through the other PPP videos, "here's another one!"

If Hermione had been there, she would've immediately recognized the person who posted it to be "pimpndrklord" and stopped Harry from viewing it. But because Hermione was off being smart somewhere else, the mouse hovered over the clip, and clicked it.

Wherever Malfoy Manor was, Voldemort was laughed gleefully. His plan was activated!

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AN: Okay, I apologize to all the readers who can read Italian. If the grammar/vocabulary was so horribly off that you had to look away for a few moments, I apologize. Sincerely.