Lord Voldemort, aka Tom Marvolo Riddle, aka You-Know-Who (definitely not U-No-Poo), aka various other names, was pacing around his private shack. His shoulders were drawn, his lips forming a thin colourless line, and his hands folded across his chest. It was apparent to the private secretary Death Eater present there that he was in a foul mood.

Voldemort stopped suddenly in mid-stride. He gestured for his secretary to come forward. In a grave and hoarse whisper, he said, “Get me Severus Snape, quick.” The terrified secretary hurriedly left to do his master’s bidding. If Snape was involved, it had to be dead serious.

“Severus, I’m sure you are well aware of my biggest problem on earth,” said Voldemort to his Death Eater (or rather man-servant) with his back facing Severus Snape.

“Ay, My Lord. Thy biggest problem on earth is, of course, Harry Potter,” replied Severus. Lord Voldemort looked slightly perturbed.

“I just meant, My Lord, that your biggest problem on earth is Harry Potter. Just some Shakespeare that I’ve been reading…” clarified Severus.

“Cool!” exclaimed Lord Voldemort. “Forget that brat! I’m alluding to my personal tragedy.”

“My Lord?”

“Yes! Have a look.” So saying, the Dark Lord turned to face Severus. Snape uttered an audible gasp. His sallow face was twisted with horror. He stuttered, “What must I do, master?”

“Prepare an antidote. I need to get rid of this.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

If one looked carefully, two candles could be seen alit inside the dingy house at Spinner’s End. To the common man this may not seem unusual. He may argue that dingy houses being very downtrodden as they are can afford only candles, which is very true. However, Peter Pettigrew found the existence of two candles unusual indeed! He was used to a single lighted candle, but two? He found it very perplexing. He was not offered the chance to clarify this query, though. He was acting on Severus Snape’s orders, and had therefore, without question, lit two candles as per his instructions.

Severus was bending over his cauldron, carefully studying the potion. The potion was of a dirty green colour. He extricated a bag of snake bile from the shelf and poured two vial fulls of the liquid into the cauldron. The antidote immediately started spitting and spurting violently, green fumes spiralling upward. Quickly, Severus added the crocodile fat. It simmered down and was now light lavender in colour. He tried to recollect all the ingredients he had added to brew the antidote. The base consisted of Essence of Murtlap, crushed Belladonna seeds and syrup of Hellebore, a very effective and strong cure for all sorts of burns and scars. He had then added juice of crushed sophorous beans after which he had incorporated the precious gemstone Beryl. It would take care of the excess strain due to the deadly disease. The snake bile would eliminate those pustules and crocodile heart fat would act as a catalyst. He was pretty sure he’d got his final product.

Wonderful! thought Severus. Now for the execution of the final part of the brewing.

“Pettigrew, come here,” he said in a commanding voice. Peter scurried towards him.

“Raise your left hand to shoulder level.” He paused for a moment and said, “Ah, yes, my potion will be a masterpiece.”

“Is it ready?” enquired Lord Voldemort of Severus Snape.

“Yes, My Lord,” replied Severus.

“Ah, Severus, I have faced many a problem in my life, but none of them have posed such complications. Not even that bratty Potter!” exclaimed Lord Voldemort.

“What would the wizarding community of the world think about the greatest Dark Lord in centuries if they come to here that I have been aff-affected b-by- The Dark Lord Acne Syndrome?” screamed the Dark Lord.

“My Lord, the antidote will prevent such queries. However, I am very much surprised by the fact that you agreed to take the potion. It is well-known that you detest things that aid you to live,” replied Severus.

“Don’t be silly, Severus, it’s a question of my beauty!” exclaimed the Dark Lord rather peevishly.

“Master, you will require the services of your deadly enemy for the potion to take effect.”

“What do you mean, Severus?” asked the Dark Lord.

“Master, if you remember rightly, you used the boy’s blood to be reborn. This potion is similar to that, and thereby you require his blood again.”

“Very well. Where are we right now? The Shrieking Shack you say? Since you are the brat’s Potions Master, you can fetch him easily.

A few minutes later…

“He is here, master,” said the voice of Severus Snape.

“Hey, what am I doing here? And why is Voldemort here?” asked a bewildered Harry Potter, who seemed to be coming out of a trance.

“You are here, boy, to do my bidding. You shall be the instrument through which I will regain my lost glory!”

“Your lost glory? You aren’t even famous as I am!” cried Harry Potter.

“Shush, boy! Let me get on with my monologue. As it is, I appear only in the end of every book, not counting the Prisoner of Azkaban! Now, where was I? Ah, yes… my glory, my beauty…”

“Your beauty? Excuse me, when ever have you been handsome?” interrupted Potter again, exactly like his father, as Severus noted.

“Hmmm… you will not allow me to talk then? Very well, I will get along with the potion, then.”

Severus Snape handed his master the potion. He moved towards Harry, drew a small, silver knife from inside his robes and chipped of a little part of the skin from Harry’s hand. Scooping the dripping blood in a small cup, he added it to the potion. The lavender-coloured potion turned a dark reddish hue.

The Dark Lord gobbled it without a word. He waited for a minute, nothing happened.

Suddenly, reddish rashes started appearing on the Dark Lord’s skin. His skin appeared to sprout boils the size of tennis balls!

“Severus, what have you done to this potion?” cried Voldemort.

“Master, I just added the necessary ingredients: Essence of Murtlap, belladonna seeds, Syrup of Hellebore, snake bile, crocodile fat, sopophorous beans, the gemstone Beryl… and, of course, the blood of your enemy and the nails of your faithful servant.”

“My faithful servant?” queried Voldemort.

“Yes, My Lord, a body part of your faithful servant was required to be incorporated in the potion. I therefore-”

What Severus would have said will remain unknown, for, at that precise moment, the door of the shack was burst open by a tall, lean and immensely bearded figure. The figure then suddenly spoke, in a concerned voice, “Harry, are you all right?”

“The brat is quite fine. It’s me who needs all that concern!” said Voldemort indignantly.

“You deserve this, Tom Riddle,” said the voice of Albus Dumbledore.

“Yeah, like, whatever, Dumbledore. I need to get rid of these rashes and boils, so quit giving the usual lectures as we are all out of character, and tell me a way out of this,” grumbled Voldemort.

“Ah, you never learn, do you, Tom?” asked Dumbledore.

“Learn what? I’ve never seen any skin disease like this ever before in my life!”

“The cure for such things, is repeated in all the books time and again Tom. I suggest you read through books carefully again.”

Saying so, Dumbledore hoisted Harry to his feet and, with a sweeping motion, both of them were gone.

“Damn that Dumbledore! By the way, Severus, who is that faithful servant whose body part you added to the potion?”

“That lucky servant was Peter Pettigrew, My Lord. I added the nails of his left hand and toe to the potion, though I couldn’t figure why they smelled so bad…” replied Severus rather cheerfully.

“WHAT? Nooooooo…!”