A/N: Having received many reviews about my poor French translation of the name Voldemort, I am concluding this debate right here in a special update for you diehard "You're a What fans?" Although attached to "You're a What?" Pink Toads does come between this chapter and Chapter 6 "Headlines". Also, in response to some reviews I have gotten implying that I am not a serious author, I would direct readers to my upcoming Doctor Who story "Out of Sequence" and my previously posted "Christmas Bear" series. As I stated when I first wrote this story, this was supposed to be a crack fic posted for the enjoyment and relaxation of stressed out or depressed readers who don't have the energy to devote to a longer, "serious-er" fic. If it comforts you, think of these stories as some bizarre dream Harry had one night. Writing funny crazy fictions does not mean that we are not seriously dedicated to our writing—this story also originally started out as an attempt to write a more dialogue based story than those I had written previously. Sometimes, even when we're practicing for what we dream might someday be a career, we just need to let down our hair and have fun.

Anyway, for all of you wonderful, kind reviewers who haven't intentionally or unintentionally gotten on my bad side lately, I am sorry for the long "speech". For those of you that unintentionally got me mad, and never intended to hurt my feelings, I'm sorry. I've been extremely prickly lately, even with people who aren't just anonymous screen names to me. But on a happier note, here is your surprise chapter of "You're a What?"

Hannah was very proud of herself. She had just finished chalking up a new drink on her menu: the "Vol-de-Mort". Next to it was her description—Flee from Death (or sleep!) with this unique mix of coffee, chai, chocolate, and mint. It was a good description and bound to appeal to her more…eclectic… customers. The sound of a bell ringing drew her attention from the board to the front of the shop where a student from the local university (as evidenced by the heavy bag of books) was making her way to the counter.

"Excuse me, miss" she said with a clear French accent, "could I have a hot chocolate please?"

"Of course," Hannah replied, grabbing the tin of cocoa powder off the counter where she had left it. "One moment."

The girl waited patiently, pushing long brown hair out of the way as she studied the menu. She fidgeted uncomfortably as though she had something to say, but wasn't quite sure how to say it.

"Can I get you anything else?" Hannah asked, noting the girl's discomfort when she looked up from pouring the milk.

"No, it's just…your menu is wrong," the girl blurted it out in a rush as though she was afraid that she wouldn't get it out if she didn't get it out quickly.

"What do you mean?" Hannah asked, craning her head back to look at the menu.

"Vol de mort means flight of death, not flee from death," she explained hesitantly.

"Oh is that all?" Hannah asked as she set the completed hot chocolate in front of the girl. "I'll see what I can do about that." The girl smiled shyly at her before picking up her drink and walking back out the door. Hannah spun around to face the menu, disappointed in being caught in a poor translation. She brightened up though as an alternative came to mind. Soon the board read Vol de Mort—This mix of coffee, chai, chocolate, and mint will be a flight of death to any sleepiness you might feel! She turned back to the counter and continued her crossword puzzle as she waited for the next rush of customers.

The new translation didn't change a thing. Voldemort was still a stupid name for a villain—and that wasn't likely to change anytime soon.

The chapter regarding Voldemort's name will remain unchanged as it is still funny—even with a wrong translation!