Hogwarts Great Hall, Center Stage.
The lighting technician (Neville Longbottom, who was so nervous he accidentally set the lights to "Disco Mode") fumbled, sending multicolored beams sweeping wildly across the room.
The music started.
It wasn't Snape's usual gloomy dungeon ambient tracks, but a global viral hit hand-picked by the Muggle Prime Minister—"Chicken You're So Beautiful."
"Chicken you're so beautiful! Baby! Chicken you're so beautiful!"
Amidst this brain-rotting melody, Voldemort walked out slowly.
The entire hall went silent for a second, followed immediately by the sound of everyone gasping in unison.
He was wearing the "Limited Edition Blast-Ended Skrewt Skin."
It was specially crafted from the pink belly armor of a giant Blast-Ended Skrewt. To make it fit his physique, Hagrid had thoughtfully attached two suspenders.
From a distance, Voldemort looked like a giant, sentient pink prawn holding a wand like a basketball.
"Is... is this the Dark Lord's new look?" Ron was dumbfounded. "I thought he'd wear a cool black cloak, but..."
"But he looks like a dad forced to perform at a kindergarten recital," Hermione added viciously, her hand furiously taking notes. "The Skrewt shell is mostly chitin. It's not breathable. Tom will faint from hypoxia in five minutes."
On stage, Voldemort's face had turned liver-purple (a feat, considering his lack of a nose).
He felt like he had been stuffed into a prickly pink plastic bag. Every time he moved, the shell made a screech-screech friction sound.
"Ivan..." Voldemort growled in Parseltongue, his voice thick with tears. "This thing is choking me! I feel like my Adam's apple (if I still have one) is being sliced off!"
"Suck it up, Tom!" Ivan shouted from the director's booth, holding a megaphone. "For the ten-year tax exemption! To save Professor Snape's hair tonic from auction! Channel the aura you had when you ruled the wizarding world! ACTION!"
Voldemort took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began to move to the beat.
"Left hand, right hand, slow motion!"
He stiffly raised his hand, performing what looked like a standard Avada Kedavra casting stance...
No, Ivan had modified it into a "Basketball Shooting Form."
Because the Skrewt shell was so stiff, his movements were incredibly mechanical, like a rusty robot.
But this "Robot Dance," combined with his pale, terrifying face, created a bizarre, suffocating sense of comedy.
The livestream chat exploded instantly:
[User_DeathEater]: Master... blink twice if you're being held hostage! This pink really washes you out!
[User_MuggleKing]: This COSPLAY is on point! Donated! Must donate!
[User_Grindelwald_Official]: Too soft! Your stance is weak! Do it again!
Seeing the last comment, Voldemort froze.
Grindelwald? Why is he watching?
Just then, the big screen suddenly cut to a video call window.
Gellert Grindelwald was sitting in his office at Nurmengard, wearing a crisp, fitted military uniform (albeit a Muggle style), holding a riding crop. His face was livid as he stared at the screen.
"STOP!" Grindelwald shouted, his voice amplified by the speakers, rattling the Great Hall's windows.
The music was forced to pause.
Voldemort stood frozen on one leg in a "Golden Rooster" pose, looking awkwardly at the former Dark Lord on the screen.
"Tom Riddle," Grindelwald pointed his crop at Voldemort's pink Skrewt outfit. "What are you doing? Is this how you plan to rule the world? Dressed like a... a mutated flamingo?"
"I'm doing it for tax evasion..." Voldemort whispered defensively.
"Even tax evasion requires dignity!" Grindelwald slammed his desk. "Look at your moves! Weak! Floppy! No power at all! Is Avada Kedavra a basketball shot to you? It is a killing art! It is ART!"
Grindelwald stood up and performed a perfect goose-step march for the camera, the click of his boot heels crisp and pleasing to the ear.
"Watch closely! How did I teach you? Chest out! Lift that damn pink shell! Suck in your gut! Tighten your glutes! Eyes fierce! Look at the audience like they are ants!"
Voldemort was getting roasted alive, but he didn't dare talk back.
Suppressed by the aura of the OG Dark Lord, he looked like a grandchild who had broken a vase.
"Y-yes, Mr. Grindelwald." Voldemort reflexively brought his heels together.
"Start over!" Grindelwald commanded. "Change the BGM to the 'Prussian Glory March'! Change the lyrics to 'Avada is Faith'! Camera 1, zoom in on his nostrils! I want to see if he's using his core!"
Ivan frantically signaled from backstage: Do it! Do it now! That old wizard is our top donor!
Voldemort gritted his teeth and reset his stance.
He didn't dare slack off this time.
Under Grindelwald's death stare, he unleashed an amazing will to survive.
"Chicken you're so beautiful! NO! Avada is Faith!!"
He roared and executed a violent Shoulder Bash.
Because he used too much force, and the Skrewt shell was too slippery...
His prosthetic nose flew off.
It traced a beautiful parabola through the air and smacked precisely onto the Muggle Prime Minister's face.
Splat.
The Prime Minister, who was watching with his mouth open, was hit dead-on by the surprise "Nose Strike."
He pulled the still-warm prosthetic nose off his face and froze.
Voldemort froze too.
He slowly turned his head to look at the camera.
Where a nose should have been, there were now only two bald, slightly twitching... nostrils.
And because of the exertion, the skin around the nostrils was flushed bright red.
Dead silence filled the hall.
Three seconds later.
> [System Alert: Livestream popularity hit a new historical high: 50 Million!]
> [Trending Topic #1: #VoldemortNoNose]
> [Trending Topic #2: #VoldemortPinkNostrils]
"AHHHHH!!" Voldemort let out a wretched scream, covering his face with his hands. "My image! My authority! Gellert! Are you satisfied now?!"
On the screen, Grindelwald was also stunned by this sudden "face reveal."
He was silent for two seconds, then burst into maniacal laughter.
"Hahahaha! That is the real you! Tom! That is the essence of a Dark Lord! It's a bit ugly, but it has impact! Keep going! Don't stop! Finish the dance with that face!"
"I quit!!" Voldemort had a breakdown, turning to run backstage.
"Grab him!" Ivan roared. "Don't let him escape! This is viral gold!"
Hagrid and Snape rushed forward, one grabbing his waist, the other grabbing his legs, forcibly pinning Voldemort back to the center of the stage.
"Let me go! I'll kill you all!" Voldemort flopped around like a fish out of water.
"Tom, chill!" Ivan rushed onto the stage holding an NFT minting device. "You're viral! Look! I just minted the moment your nose flew off as 'Genesis No. 1' NFT! Starting bid 10,000 Galleons! People are already bidding!"
Voldemort's struggling paused for a second. "H-how much?"
"Fifty thousand! It's Lucius!" Ivan checked the tablet. "He says it represents 'Pure-blood Glory,' that even nostrils are sacred!"
Voldemort: ???
That works?
Just then, Grindelwald spoke up again.
"Since the nostrils are out, don't hide them. Tom, listen to my command. Do a 'Chest Expansion Exercise.' Aim your nostrils at the camera and show off your... lung capacity! This is called 'Authentic Marketing'!"
Voldemort looked at the rising numbers on Ivan's tablet, then at Grindelwald on the screen—who, despite mocking him, clearly understood traffic.
He grit his teeth.
For the money. For tax evasion.
He slowly lowered his hands from his face.
Those two bright red nostrils looked exceptionally clear in 4K resolution.
"Fine." Voldemort closed his eyes, tears of humiliation streaming down. "For the Greater... Profit."
"One two three four! Two two three four! Chest expansion! Avada Kedavra!"
Under Grindelwald's command, Voldemort, with tears in his eyes, began performing an 80s Aerobics Routine on stage.
The pink Skrewt shell squeaked with every move, and combined with his skyward-facing nostrils, it created the most absurd, magical, and expensive scene in wizarding history.
The students in the hall were laughing their heads off.
Snape covered his face, seemingly unable to watch, but the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards violently.
The Muggle Prime Minister held the fake nose, deep in thought. "This material... if we sell it as bionic skin to Muggles, we could win a Nobel Prize."
Only Dumbledore.
Sitting in the Staff Room watching this, the Chocolate Frog in his hand fell to the floor.
"Gellert..." The Old Bee's eyes twinkled with complex emotions—pity, and perhaps a hint of... nostalgia?
"You're still so strict with him. Just like you were with me back then."
Meanwhile, center stage.
Ivan was furiously typing on his keyboard:
"Thanks to 'GGAD' for the ten Super Rockets! The boss is generous! The boss wants a 'Goose-Step' encore? No problem! Tom! Goose-step! Make that Skrewt shell clap louder!"
Voldemort goose-stepped while sobbing:
"Ivan! I am the Dark Lord! Not a parade soldier!!"
"Doesn't matter!" Ivan held up his phone to record. "What matters is your 'Nostril Goose-Step' NFT just hit 100,000 Galleons! Hold it! Five more minutes until you clock out!"
Just then, Dobby's ghost projection popped up again, this time with a red alert:
> [WARNING! Voldemort's "Facial Features" detected as "Indecent Livestream Content"! The Ministry is cutting the signal immediately!]
Zzzzt—!
The screen went black.
The livestream cut out.
The hall erupted in groans of disappointment.
"Why did it cut?" Ron jumped up anxiously. "I haven't finished watching!"
"No worries." Ivan calmly packed up his equipment and pointed to a USB drive in his hand. "Full HD uncut version, yours for just 998 Galleons. Professor Snape, would you like a copy? I saw you smiling quite happily earlier."
Snape's smile vanished instantly, returning to his icy demeanor.
"No need, Potter. And get your foot off my crate of hair tonic."
Although the livestream was cut, the video of Voldemort's "Nostril Dance" had already spread like a virus through the entire wizarding world (and even the Muggle world, where it was trending as a "Cursed Meme").
Hogwarts' servers began to smoke again due to the sheer volume of downloads.
---
Meanwhile, in the Forbidden Forest Boiler Room.
The real Voldemort (having just logged off the Metaverse/Stage) collapsed on the ground, staring at the ceiling with zero will to live.
Quirrell timidly handed him a glass of water.
"Master... um... your nostrils... are actually quite sexy. Everyone is buying 'Voldemort Style Nose Strips' now, saying they remove blackheads..."
"Get out." Voldemort said weakly.