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A week after Voldemort had expressed his desire for more POV on his success, Albus Dumbledore sat in the waiting room reading an article entitled Horklumps: Killers in disguise in the latest edition of The Quibbler.
Within two hours of Voldemort’s temper tantrum, the Death Eaters had a bumbling boy named Neville Longbottom as a hostage, with the demand that Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore give literary advice to Voldemort. Within four hours, Albus Dumbledore legally became Harry Potter’s manager, and within another eight, Neville Longbottom was released.
Voldemort’s secretary, a bored-looking woman who believed Voldemort to be a kindred spirit rather than a maniac, appeared, and beckoned Dumbledore.
“The Dark Lord will see you now.”
“Voldemort?” asked Dumbledore politely, his bright blue eyes twinkling. The secretary winced, nodded, and Dumbledore followed her.
As they walked, Dumbledore courteously interrogated her.
Courteously, of course.
“Has Tom actually slowed the flow of his Muggle attacks, and more concerned with becoming an author, these days?” he began amicably enough.
“He wants a new angle,” replied the secretary simply.
“I thought he wanted the entire Muggle race dead?”
“No, no, the massacre is scheduled for next June. Until then the Dark Lord is quite free to perfect his penmanship.”
“Could you give me the exact date of that massacre? It’s just that I’m due to be visiting my brother Aberforth in June and I don’t want the two events to clash.”
The secretary looked at Dumbledore strangely.
“I thought the Order of the Phoenix was onto our every plan?” she sneered.
“Oh no,” contradicted Dumbledore, “we have to make time for Wizard Chess, and as we are approaching the tournament, tracking Voldemort’s movements has been prioritised as second-most-important activity.”
The secretary was saved from working out whether this was a joke or not by the fact that they had reached Voldemort’s office. She knocked twice.
“Who is it?” asked Voldemort, even though he knew full well who it was.
“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and a charming young lady known as ‘Secretary’,” answered Dumbledore.
The door swung open, to reveal the back of a chair. Dumbledore closed the door behind him, and the chair spun round, revealing the menacing figure of Voldemort, stroking a white, fluffy cat who didn’t seem all that happy with the arrangement.
“Ah, Dumbledore. We meet again. Please, sit down.” Voldemort gestured to a hard, oak bench.
“There’ll be no need, Tom. I am quite capable of conjuring a chair myself.” With a flick of his wand, a disastrously lace-covered armchair appeared.
Voldemort very much wanted to destroy the chair, but as he was asking one of his biggest adversary for a favour, he decided that that course of action would be unwise, to say the least.
“Dumbledore, I’ve been a busy man all my life. I think it’s time to look back - and to remember those times that shaped me into the man I am today. I need your input on this…epic. Not to mention Harry’s.”
“Tom, you’re hell-bent on world domination and destroying everything Harry Potter stands for. Do you think we will be likely to help you?”
“It would be wise of you to help me. The longer you keep me occupied with my autobiography, the longer I keep away from killing Mud-Bloods.”
“How do you know I won’t just kill you and let all your plans unravel?”
“Because if you were going to do that you wouldn’t have told me.”
Dumbledore considered this.
“I shall write for you, if that is what you want. However, it’s Harry’s choice.”
Voldemort nodded.
“Quite. But remember, Dumbledore, your part is not meant to be flattering. I want to be known as the most evil, conceited, arrogant and vain wizard this world has ever known - not a man who could ever possibly be redeemed.”
Dumbledore smiled.
“Don’t be in any doubt, Voldemort, I am quite sure that Harry Potter never thought you could be redeemed, and were anything but evil. However, although it is Harry’s choice, I have a good feeling about this.”
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“No,” said Harry bluntly, “absolutely not.”
Harry was in Dumbledore’s office, with his arms crossed, after the headmaster had just proposed the idea of writing a few chapters for Sifting through the trash: a novel.
“Harry, Harry, Harry. Think about this. What are the disadvantages?”
“I am NOT helping Voldemort make millions in book sales!” Harry exclaimed.
He was certain Dumbledore had finally lost it.
“Harry, I’m your manager, and this is all win, win, win!”
“You’re a ruddy useless manager if you think it’s clever for me to just walk into Voldemort’s headquarters and not expect to be killed! Do you know how stupid this sounds?”
“Harry, I’ve been there. It’s a bad case of writer’s block, and I’m sure he’d let you have a cut.”
Dumbledore attempted to level with Harry, who was of the belief that Voldemort could easily lie about anything, to anyone, and he was more than likely to lie to Dumbledore, the only man he had ever feared, than anyone else in the world.
“And I’m sure I wouldn’t do it for a million galleons,” dismissed Harry.
Had Dumbledore been drugged?
“I’ll fail you in your NEWTS if you don’t!” threatened Dumbledore.
It was illegal, risky, and completely against everything the Order of the Phoenix stood for. But then again, so was the cauldron he had bought from Mundungus, and that illegal jaunt hadn’t come back to haunt him yet.
“You wouldn’t,” said Harry in a hushed voice.
“I would and I will. If you won’t do it for fame and fortune and for the sake of saying horrible things about Voldemort, do it for your parents.”
“My parents are dead. He murdered them,” Harry reminded him flatly.
Dumbledore decided to convince Harry a different way.
“Do you think James or Lily would’ve refused to write a few, harmless chapters, Harry?”
“YES!”
Dumbledore considered this. He hoped Harry didn’t know that he was right.
“Well, do it because while the autobiography keeps him occupied, Muggles are being spared!”
Harry was silenced. He had the urge to run away from the office, but the new troll guarding the office door was more than enough reason not to.
Could Dumbledore be right? Could Voldemort really be more vain than destructive?
“I’ll do a chapter. One chapter, for now - and it won’t be flattering in any way imaginable. Tell him that he has to stop killing people for this to work though - we already have enough material to work with.”
“Excellent,” replied the headmaster, and dismissed Harry.
Despite Harry’s growing levels of uncertainty, he felt himself smiling, in spite of the situation.
Wait until he told Ron and Hermione that Lord Voldemort, the world’s most evil genius, suffered from writer’s block.