I’m not sure if this is crack or if it’s serious.

Oh, no, Harry doesn’t dream at night. He just visits Voldemort in his head, but kind of in a literal sense. They have nice chats about politics, science, and morality. Voldemort offers Harry tea and knows just how much sugar he likes in it, but occasionally poisons him in the name of entertainment. Harry asks about Tom’s day, and the Dark Lord offers to kill the Dursleys for his frenemy. Also this:

“You look different. I can’t put my finger on what.”

“I got a haircut,” Harry said.

Voldemort shook his head. “No, no—that’s not it, although I do like the yellow. It looks like bile dripping from your hair.”

I mean, seriously, what the fuck am I reading?

Also, the house elves are Fred and Ginger — that’s right, like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.

I don’t know what to make of it right now, but it is freaking ridiculous right now, and I’m only in the third chapter. However, I am intrigued by this brand of crazy.

I know this fic is quite old. Has anyone read it? I don’t even know where I discovered it, except for the fact that I just found it again in a folder of unorganized bookmarks.