Yes, I'M BACK! There is a slight reference to the Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan in this chapter. I'm not sure who all will catch it, but anyway…

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own the Wheel of Time, and I'm not Robert Jordan. I'm not JK Rowling either, by the way, no matter how much I wish I was.

I'm not Voldemort either. Just thought I'd mention it.

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Harry stared at Voldemort. "What?" he thundered. Voldemort nodded nervously. "Yes, of course, sure, affirmative." Harry glared at him. "Well, what is it?" Voldemort winced. "Well, er, um, you see, it's a spell, a working of magic." It became clear that Harry wanted a more complete explanation; Voldemort sighed. "I invented it. Well, sort of. Actually, I thought of the idea and Snape, er, completed it for me."

Harry nodded sympathetically. "Yes, yes, I understand completely what it's like to be a loser and unable to accomplish anything by yourself."

Voldemort nodded. "That's right. I mean—no! That's wrong! Incorrect! Rubbish! It's--" at this point, he shook his head. The Great Lord had learned long ago to stop with the synonyms before he got into the harder ones. The Potter boy wouldn't understand them. Anyway-- Voldemort sighed. "There's a spell. It will forever remove from the world the one whom I use it on. Mwahaha. I call it balefire. And Robert Jordan can't sue me. Because it was never published. Really. And it would have been illegal anyway, so—I'm babbling, aren't I? Anyway… It calls for some ingredients, but I have those at my hideout." He walked over to a nearby payphone that just happened to be beside the road, sneaking as if suspecting a dementor to jump out from a nearby tree and accuse him of plagiarism at any second.

"Yes!" Harry laughed maniacally. "A spell! A spell!" Never having read anything longer than a few pages in one of his school textbooks, Harry obviously didn't realize that Voldemort's idea for a spell came from the Wheel of Time. Ingenious, eh, when you can copy the works of genius muggles?

Voldemort sighed and looked up at the monstrously large phone booth before him. He jumped, trying to reach the phone. "I'm too short!" He wailed. I HATE being short!"

Harry picked up the phone. "Do you have any money? And why do you need a phone?"

Voldemort frowned. "No I don't have any money. Just use a spell on the phone. Illegal, but it'll work. And we need a phone because I need someone to come get us to take us to the hideout." The phone number is 555-I AM EVIL." Harry wrinkled his brow, confused. He had always wondered how phone numbers could have letters in them. It just didn't make any sense at all.

Voldemort sighed, silently resolving to magically give this idiot a brain transplant before he killed him. "555-426-3845." There was a moan from a few yards away as Dobby woke up. Voldemort ignored him. Harry ignored him as well.

Harry dialed the phone with only a few pauses where he tried to remember which symbol stood for which number. He had never done very well in math back at that muggle school. He'd averaged about an F-. Maybe it was just his imagination, but that really didn't seem such a very good grade.

The phone rang once and someone picked up the phone. "Lo Mein China Grill! Please may I help you?" In reply, Harry growled a very rude word and hung up the phone before proceeding to bang his head with his wand. Luckily, the wand was very durable; he had found that this was a necessity after he broke his first fourteen in fits of anger.

Dobby, whose lip-reading skills were as good as ever, blinked. "Hungry already, master? I didn't know that you like duck. I'll run and fetch some!" He tried to run off, but Harry threw his wand at the poor house-elf, stopping him in his tracks. "I DON'T LIKE DUCK!" Hastily reclaiming his wand, he wrote that phrase in glowing pink letters across the street. Dobby, being a very intelligent house-elf, interpreted his master's current mood and decided to shut up.

Voldemort sighed. "Very well, we'll have to travel by Floo Powder. I just hope that I'm not flammable." Harry smiled maliciously, hoping that he was flammable.

Just then, Harry blinked. "Wait, what do we need the spell for?"

Voldemort sighed again. He seemed to do this a lot lately. Ignoring the stupid, idiotic, imbecilic, nitwitted, unintelligent "greatest wizard in the world," Voldemort began the trek down the cobblestone street to the Leaky Cauldron. Which was a long way for a book.

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Sorry for my long absence! I'm back now. I know that I said this last time, but expect more frequent updates. I think that after this story is complete in a few chapters, I'll write that romance that my muse won't leave me alone about. Personally, I think that my muse has been reading too much Romeo and Juliet while watching Pirates of the Caribbean. (giggle.)

Until the next chapter,

Her Imperial Majesty Lady Pirate Captain Asvoria Artemis Granger the Thirteenth, Mighty Queen of the Realm of Anonymity