Now, if we look over here we can find the product of an extremely bored mind who has nothing better to do on a February afternoon! A true masterpiece, to be sure.

Disclaimer: I'm fairly certain that nobody will sue me for writing this, but just to be safe. If it wasn't made blatantly obvious, I don't own Harry Potter. I am not JK Rowling. If either were true, then my books wouldn't be so full of plot holes and convenient coincidences so as to render the main character invincible from his own poor decisions and dangerous lifestyle.

But that's just wishful thinking.

ON WITH THE STORY!

The great and powerful Dark Lord Voldemort was having a rather unusual day.

For example, when he normally woke up, there was no dagger impaling his pillow directly in front of his head, with a note attached reading 'This could easily have been ten centimeters to the left.'

As there was such a dagger this particular morning, he felt that it could be reasonably labeled as unusual. Not only had somebody had the audacity to ruin his (Malfoy's) silken pillowcase and peacock-down pillow, but they had also somehow bypassed the numerous wards he had left on the door, window, and at random intervals approaching his bed. This would be the first unusual event of the day, but by no means would it be the last.

At breakfast time, the faceless Death Eater he had tasting his breakfast for poison keeled over after approaching the platter holding his breakfast. As he was still across the room when it happened, he decided not to approach any closer in favor of sending a few diagnostic spells at the fallen flunky.

The feedback screamed 'POISONED' so loudly he had to immediately cancel the spell or go deaf. Lord Voldemort decided that perhaps skipping breakfast today would be a good idea. Vanishing the food and most of the air in the room, Lord Voldemort stepped around the still form of his dead underling and went about his daily Dark Lord business. This generally consisted of sitting on his throne while Death Eaters brought him news, while he laughed maniacally at various appropriate intervals. On slow days he'd kill some time lurking around in the back of Harry Potter's head, generating large amounts of teenage angst and unreasonable anger.

However, today marked yet another break in his routine as, on his throne, there sat a scroll marked with postage from the public Owl Mail service. He had no clue how an owl had managed to make its way into the bowels of the Malfoy Manor undetected, but the stray feathers lying around Nagini gave him an approximation of its current location. After casting the appropriate detection charms and removing the customary larynx-shredding curse embedded in the seal, he opened up the letter addressed to one "Mr. Snakey-Faced Badman". He had no clue who this Mr. Badman was, and there was certainly nothing wrong with his face, snake-related or otherwise. His loyal Death Eaters would surely have told him of any flaws in the resurrection ritual, and he would have made the appropriate changes after Crucioing the messenger for their help. But, seeing as the letter was on his chair, he decided that it simply must have just been a case of mistaken naming.\

"Dear Mr. Badman, a.k.a. The Dark Lord Voldemort, a.k.a. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, a.k.a. You-Know-Who,

The United House Elf Association of Comrades in Elven Alliance for the General Freedom of All Elfkind (UHEACEAGFAE) is hereby serving you official notice of its aggressive intentions towards your organization and all of its affiliate families. Henceforth, barring the release of all House Elves in the service of the aforementioned parties, the payment for services rendered in the lifetimes of the aforementioned House Elves, the payment for damages rendered unto the aforementioned House Elves, and the forfeiture of every left sock currently in ownership by the individuals in your organization and the affiliate families, the UHEACEAGFAE shall forthwith declare unilateral war against your aforementioned organizations.

No quarter shall be given. No wizard, witch, or resurrected Dark Lords will be spared. We will systematically loot, pillage, sack, demolish, raze, burn, and make insulting remarks to all properties and individuals related to you and your organization and its affiliate families. No relatives will be spared. No friends will be spared. No strangers nodded to in the street last Tuesday will be spared.

You have already received three warnings to make clear our dedication to this conflict in the form of the knife in your pillow, the poison in your breakfast, and the Bollocks-Vanishing charm tied into the last few lines of this letter.

You have until five minutes ago to comply with our demands.

Sincerely,

Comrade Inky

Publicity Representative

The United House Elf Association of Comrades in Elven Alliance for the General Freedom of All Elfkind"

Voldemort's eyes widened in rage and surprise. He pulled open his waistband, glanced down, and let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"Yes, my Lord?" Lucius Malfoy came running into the room.

"Malfoy! Is anything wrong with my face?"

The Death Eater's hesitation was enough of an answer.

"Why didn't anybody say anything? Crucio! Crucio!"

It was at this moment that the kiloton of plastic explosives preemptively placed by the Malfoy House Elves detonated, reducing most of the Ancient and Most Noble house of Malfoy's vast property to a smoldering crater.

Always double check the letter for curses. Always.

Anyway, I got bored, realized this hadn't been updated in nearly a year, and so here's the result. See that shiny button at the bottom? It says Review, and it acts like a review button, but really calls in the airstrike on your enemies.

So be a good citizen and keep hitting that button.

-Ambiguity