The rest of this story is dedicated to my friend, the DJ Park.

And not just because I didn't get him a Christmas present.

The observant might have noticed that a few characters are OOC.

I like writing OOC. It's funny.

Wait... no one has been OOC yet?

Darn it! I went too far back in time!

These time machines are always screwing up...

Yeah... it's not like I'm really from the future or anything...

And it's not like next year is the year of the Great Alien Encounter... heh heh... back to the story...

P.S. I just lost The Game.

Voldemort was rising.

He stood up, arms stretched out in front of him, like a zombie.

Wizards and Muggles were running around in circles and screaming and eating hot dogs.

"Oh, fudge!" cursed Cornelius Fudge.

Then Voldemort started laughing. Or as close to laughing when you are some kind of reptile thing and don't have nostrils.

"You guys are idiots! You're all like, 'Voldemort's resurrecting! OMG! I'm gonna die!' You guys are so dumb! You can't suck my soul out of my body! I HAVE NO SOUL!"

Harry was annoyed. "I came here to see somebody die, and nobody's died yet! I want a refund!" He threw down his fries in anger, and then realized what he'd done.

Too late, though, because Harry didn't know that unseasoned fries were Voldemort's favorite food.

Voldemort gobbled up those fries like there was no tomorrow.

"Hey!" shouted Harry. "Those are my fries!"

Nobody listened.

"I said, those are my fries! Come on! Where are those screaming fans that do anything for me? This is no fair! I want my stolen fries!"

That caught somebody's attention.

"Wait – someone stole your fries? That's terrible!"

The crowd started to mummer. What kind of killer stole food?

"I know!" shouted Harry. "The cereal killer!"

The stadium started going crazy. There was a cereal killer on the loose, and even those with guns were afraid that the killer might outrigger them. Nobody ever noticed that in all of the confusion, Voldemort was escaping.

"Sayonara, suckers!" And the undead trotted away.

And then there was the flash of lightning.

Down from the heavens descended... Dumbledore.

The exits of the stadium clanged shut, and Dumbledore landed in a halo of light as angels sang to him.

"Hallelujah!" they chorused. "Hallelujah! Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!"

Does anyone see the irony that I'm posting a story about a guy resurrecting and angels singing on Christmas?

Okay, we may as well leave some kind of cliffhanger there, so that's it for this chapter.

But why am I not getting any reviews?

Review now.