Title: Voldemort Revamped
Authors: Cooper_666 and Nish140
Disclaimer: not ours
Characters: Tom Riddle
Summary: Voldemort has turned good and wrote a memoir.
A/N: First fic co-authored by Nish140! One more converted!
The discrimination still gets me down sometimes. I’ll be minding my own business, strutting my stuff down the sidewalk, and someone will see me and faint. It’s like, hello people, not evil! Well, not anymore.
It’s not like I haven’t change; I’m a whole new person! The Ministry—they’re so nice now that they’ve stopped cowering—even gave me a new name: Elvis Torello. I was so pleased with it when it was first announced that I didn’t even realize that now my initials are E.T. I don’t know who thought that was funny, but to imply that I am not a wizard but an alien! That is one sick joke. Just because I tried to kill and maim thousands doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.
Just last week I turned on the T.V., figuring I’d catch a rerun of Ally McBeal, when lo and behold, I see myself being scrutinized once again on the evening News. You know, when I stopped being evil and started pursing my real dream—to design the ultimate celebrity clothing—I thought that I’d have to really push myself to get the attention that my work deserved. But no, no one wants to focus on my fashion line—they just want to interview my plastic surgeon!
You just can’t make this stuff up, and I’m not exaggerating either—I hate
people that exaggerate —the Ministry promised me discretion when I chose my surgeons and oh no, they
didn’t tell anyone. Said surgeons on the other hand weren’t nearly as tight-lipped. They loved telling everyone at my expense what I had altered. I really hadn’t liked my nose both as a kid and as a malicious Lord, so that was the first thing I had fixed. Then my lips—just like Angelina Jolie’s, that woman looks like an angel! I wear contacts, and my skins actually peachy now that I’ve been going to a tanning salon.
Besides, it’s not like I don’t feel bad about the chaos and destruction I unleashed onto the world. And I do have quite a flare for fashion, if I do say so myself! And with all the possibilities! I could mix muggle fashion with wizard fashion, to bring two different styling worlds together! Maybe I can even get one of those wizard-aware muggles to introduce my new trends into the muggle world and get rid of those bell bottoms—those are the worst things ever, I still
wonder what goes through those odd creatures’ heads—for good.
I’ve even got plans in my house. When I moved in, it was a quaint little English cottage just outside of London, but the inside was a horrible déjà vu of the 60’s! I thought the forbidden forest was scary, this
was ten times worse! With its orange flower motif and thick moth eaten drapes—yes, drapes—it just reeked tacky
. It even had a ‘log’ lamp. So I got Peter Pettigrew to help me fix it up. 7000£ and 6 weeks later, I was living in a rather chic place, especially compared to what I had been occupying before. The best part would have to be the studio.
It has got mini, but super strong pot lights, wooden laminate floors, mannequins and a gigantic walk-in closet to store all my supplies! Although, considering the circumstances, it is very hard to get models and clients, and Pettigrew, with his flabby figure and horrid posture, will just ruin me before I can even get started. I considered moving to France, for obvious reasons, but I figured I would just receive even worse discrimination in a language I don’t even understand! The American wizards would just eat up the scandalous media! But, no, I will stay true to my homeland no matter how much I tried to annihilate it! And no matter how much the population wants me gone, eventually something else will come up and they will move on to that!
Speaking of Pettigrew, he’s been quite helpful in the last few weeks. Ever since my change of heart, he’s been continually supportive. The Ministry was not as approving of him, but I just can’t imagine not having him around. He’s an annoying little rat but he’s also most dutiful. It would take years to train someone new.
Now I don’t mean to brag, but I also have been making some major improvements with the ladies as well. When I was evil, the women would judge me by appearance and reputation alone—they never got to know the real me, but now! Now it’s wonderful! I’ve met several potential models over the Internet and been hooked up on a few blind dates and the results are magnificent! Not only do I get to show off my personal styles but I get to communicate
with other wizards just like myself! The Death Eaters only obliged my every command, whereas dates expect me to actually listen and answer. And apparently, it’s custom for the male to pay. It’s been quite some time since that’s happened.
There is one other thing that I want to get off my chest. I have gotten several letters lately complaining about myself in general. Now darlings, I’m sure you all have the best of intentions, but insulting my manhood is not the way to do it. The majority of the letters mention a young lad named H. Potter.
I still maintain that I can only vaguely recall this name.
Now I am said (but nothing was proven!) to have more or less ruined this boy’s life. I have only four words for you: he ruined mine first.
In fact, he turned into my sole reason to stay evil and alive, well, except for the horacruxes that wouldn’t let me die, but other than that! I know its wrong to stay alive to get revenge and tortuously kill a teenage boy, but that was all I really knew, beginning from when I was a little boy, left to live in that horrid place of an orphanage.
A brilliant thought just occurred! Maybe I should travel the world and help future evil wizards! Although then it would cut into my
dream and no one would ever mistake me for a saint. Everyone’s a little
This whole ‘good’ thing has come with a string of fine print. I thought it would be start the moment I stopped Crucio-ing people. Apparently, you can’t just stop doing naughty things; you have to start doing goody-two-shoes things too. I must have missed that memo.
Well, I am officially worn out. I spent all day working on a new line of cocktail dresses that I just can’t take any more.
Adieu for now,Elvis Torello