A/N: Before there is any confusion, Mr. Padfoot and Hogwarts Dropout are one in the same. Fanfiction deleted my account and I took the opportunity to change my name. Sorry for any trouble it might have caused.
Life with Voldie
"God damn it, Ricardo! I said take off two inches! This is CLEARLY two inches and a half! What the hell do I let you live for?" Voldemort commented waspishly to his hairdresser. "My hair needs to scream 'Evil Bastard'. When you take off two inches, it does this. When you take off 2.5, it clearly says 'Shaggy Bastard'. I can't deal with this incompetence. I'm killing another one of your children."
"Master, the muggle car you requested is waiting." The servant informed nervously. Voldemort examined the muggle sports car from every angle.
"It is exactly as I ordered. What do you think of the license plate?" He asked conversationally. The servant looked nervous, but quickly read the plate.
"HPSUX…It has taste, Master."
"Ah…Severus…so good to see you again. So what side are you serving these days?" Voldemort asked with a pleasant look of genuine curiosity. Snape arched an eyebrow.
"Um…yours?" He replied hesitantly. Voldemort smiled.
"Good to hear, good to hear, my boy. Pull up a chair. Biscuit?" Snape sighed wearily and sat down. Voldemort dismissed the legion of Death Eaters that had been waiting for his command to fire burning acid at aforementioned Severus Snape if he did not pledge his loyalty to Voldemort.
"Yes, thank you. Two please."
Voldemort sighed harshly as he studied his weary servants in the conference room. It was going to be a long one.
"Okay, boys, okay. I'll have some take-out sent up. How about egg rolls and sushi?"
His followers perked up. These Death Eater meetings would be the death of him…again.
"What do you think looks better? Reptilian green or massacre mauve?" Voldemort asked his consultants. They all made various thinking noises.
"I personally like the petrifying pink robes." One commented with an affirming nod. Voldemort looked at the suggested garment.
"Hmmm…the idea has merit. Nothing says 'I've come to murder your children' like petrifying pink. Good man."
The assembled audience of Death Eaters watched the podium in the front of the auditorium. A few held drink coozies that said, 'Voldemort Company Party 01' A few others wore party hats over their heavy black hoods. Voldemort stood at the podium.
"Another groovy party! I sure love to party." The corny music suddenly began to skip and then silence. A single balloon deflated and wafted to the ground. Voldemort continued flashing his fake smile. "Now some of you might have heard that this party was thrown to raise moral, as it has been rumored to be running low. I, for one, think this is outrageous. Only happy Death Eaters could produce stats like these!"
A banner unfurled from the ceiling that read, 'Four continents conquered, only one more to go!'
A random Death Eater spoke. "But there are seven continents, master!" Voldemort nodded at security and the Death Eater was knocked unconscious with a bubble machine and dragged out. The other Death Eaters showed visible worry. Voldemort continued.
"So, as I was saying, to show you how much I care and appreciate your hard work, Wednesdays will become the official night to drink beer, play bingo, and dance the Macarena." Voldemort began to clap at his own announcement, nodding his head and smiling energetically. The Death Eaters chorused his applause.
Voldemort breathed raggedly at Harry's wand point, knowing his end was near. Well, he actually had a few options to escape still open to him, but Potter was already wearing a T-shirt that said 'I defeated Voldemort and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.' Voldemort sighed. The shirt was rather witty, and he would hate for Potter to have to throw it away. He mentally sighed and let out a token scream of death and defeat.
When he came back the rolls would be reversed! It would be him wearing the witty shirt! He'd show that Potter! He would wear a shirt that said, 'I defeated Harry Potter and all I got was this T-shirt'…and the T-shirt that Potter had that said he defeated me and only got a T-shirt.
Keeping it Comical:
Lucius inwardly rolled his eyes.
"So do ya get it? The dog? The dog and the bubble wrap?" Voldemort finished excitedly. Lucius forced a laugh.
"Good one, you supreme master of darkness, you."
Dealing with Romance:
"And then I said to her, you can't dump me! This hand is magical!"
A few seats away Lucius leaned towards Voldemort with a conspiratorial air.
"What's up with Wormtail?" Lucius asked. Voldemort sighed dramatically.
"He got dumped again. I regret giving him the magical hand now, it gave him such an ego."
"Okay. Here's the game plan. I capture Dumbledore," Voldemort grabbed Lucius to 'stand in' for Dumbledore, "and I bring him here." He stood Lucius on a large, red X.
"Then, we will slowly squish him to death with a giant slab of concrete that will descend tortuously slow!" He laughed maniacally.
Lucius remained on the giant X, watching as the concrete inched closer to his head. Voldemort was in full throttle laugh of death mode, so he began coughing when Lucius stepped to the right and avoided the slab of concrete. Voldemort looked livid.
"Damn it Lucius! You always nit pick over my plans of death! You're supposed to stand on the bloody X! That's what it's there for!" Voldemort raged. Lucius sighed.
"So you think Dumbledore is going to just stand still and be squished?" He reproached reasonably. Voldemort looked like he was talking to a small child.
"That's…why…we…HAVE THE FUCKING X! Everyone, with the exception of you apparently, knows that when there's a giant red X you're supposed to stand on it. Duh."
Voldemort sat at his breakfast table; the Daily Prophet casually folded in front of him along with a plate of steaming eggs. He was leafing through his mail, murmuring at the contents of each letter.
"How dare you kill my child…blah blah blah…ministry will hunt you down…I like your pink robes…Hey! Lucius! Did you hear that? This victim likes my robes!"
"Wonderful to hear, master." Lucius replied while preparing breakfast omelets. Voldemort opened a new letter.
"Hmmm…this one's from the ministry."
"What do they say, master?"
"Something about how they'll find out where I'm hiding soon." Voldemort replied airily.
"If they don't know where you are, how did they get your address to send the letter?"
Voldemort took a sip of coffee.
"That, Lucius my shiny pet, is why we are winning the war."
Names and Such:
Voldemort sat musing in his living room, flanked by Lucius and Wormtail.
"You know boys, I've been thinking." Lucius arched an eyebrow.
"Thinking master? Are you sure that is wise?"
"I don't think my name does the trick. It has come to my attention that my enemies are calling me…Voldie." Wormtail laughed.
"Yeah, they all call you Moldy Voldie, cuz you're old and loosing your touch…heh…heh heh…yeah." Lucius elbowed him harshly. Voldemort's eyes narrowed in concentration.
"Perhaps it is time to change my name then." With that, the words 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' floated in the air. The two Death Eaters studied them. Wormtail smiled brightly.
"I know! How about V-lo? Ya know…J-lo…V-lo?"
The dark prince formally known as Voldemort smiled.
Back at the Ministry:
"Okay, so let me get this straight, chief." The young Auror prepared himself. "Voldemort is the dark lord formally known as Tom Riddle, that now wants to be called V-lo and who most know by the popular euphemism 'He-who-must-not-be-named' (most famous for not defeating 'the-boy-who-lived' and 'the-headmaster-named-Dumbledore)."
"Got it in one."
Death Eater Slumber Parties:
Wormtail let out a girly squeal.
"Guess what master? By taking this quiz in my magazine, you can find out what type of lover you are!" The elaborate quill scratched over the magazine surface, marking answers. Voldemort waited patiently. Wormtail laughed triumphantly.
"I'm slow and sensual, it says, and I know what to do with a lover! That is like, SO true! Like that's…freaky-deaky! It's like this quiz was MADE for me!" Wormtail gushed.
"No you dumbass, it was made for teenage girls."
"I wish to take it, Wormtail." Voldemort said, interrupting the bickering of his two servants. Wormtail fired out the questions, marking Voldemort's answers.
"It says: You like slowly torturing your lover, and you make it clear that you're the dominating partner. Sometimes you like slowly slitting their veins and shoving hot nails through their eyes." Voldemort and Lucius looked shocked.
"OHMYGOSH! That is like SO me!"
If the muggles at the park thought it was odd to see thirty people in heavy, hooded black cloaks playing softball and eating fried chicken in the middle of summer, they decided not to comment on it.
"Okay everyone, the results are in! You voted Jimmy as 'most likely to succeed', and Sally was 'most likely to become famous'. Let's see…who else…ah! Yes! Tom Riddle was voted 'most likely to kill muggles in mass amounts with illegal torture devices and participate in terrorist like activities!' Congratulations on that Tommy!"
Voldemort sighed happily.
"Ah yes…I remember when I was a schoolboy. Sneaking out past curfew…rebelling against authority…making my dog drink four gallons of Drain-O, and submitting my cat to dangerous flesh eating pigeons that I illegally bred …"
At the Airport:
"I'm sorry sir, we're going to have to scan your bag." The security worker said to the dark skinned muggle in the turban, standing just in front of Voldemort. They scanned his bag, searched him, made him take down his turban, strip searched his little girl, put his wife through the scanner, made him spin around three times in the metal detector…
Voldemort walked up.
"You can go on in, sir, have a nice day!" He walked through, bag in hand. "Oh! Wait sir! You seem to have left your book here… "101 Ways to Crash a Plane from the Air" Is that yours?" Voldemort walked back and kindly retrieved his book, tucking it into his bag.
"You know, I'd just like to comment on what wonderful service I've received. I just love muggle airports."
The Vacation to Disney World
"So how was your trip to that Disney place, master?" Lucius asked Voldemort and Wormtail. Wormtail smiled enthusiastically.
"We brought slides!" With a wave of his wand, the slide machine set itself up. Voldemort sat down and indicated a few servants and Lucius were to sit as well. Wormtail started the show.
"So this is us posing for a picture with Micky…Oh yeah! And this was when Master and I went to the 'evil characters' breakfast! We got so many great tips! Cruella DeVille showed me this great way to skin a live human…wasn't she great, Master? I got her number."
Voldemort tapped his throne restlessly.
"I want my own holiday, Lucius. It must be the most popular day of the year." He ordered. Lucius sighed.
"But, Lord, Christmas is the most popular holiday. You'll be hard pressed to beat it." He replied.
"Yes…I've heard of this 'Christmas' holiday. It is where muggles put dead trees in their homes and eat goodies out of their socks. Well, Lucius my pet, My holiday will have trees and old socks, and I'll do that old Christmas one better! My holiday will have a fluffy white substance that falls on people! So there!"
Lucius cleared his throat.
"Um…sir, we already have that. It's called snow. It's part of Christmas as well." He informed. Voldemort's eyes narrowed.
"So here is what you must do Lucius. Erase everyone's memories of Christmas, destroy all merchandise associated with it, completely erase it from the face of the earth, and then get a patent on snow under my name for my holiday. Then you must bring me a new package of Fig Newtons. We're out." Lucius wrote all this down on the palm of his hand.
"What kind, sir?"
"Strawberry. Oh…and Lucius? Kill Harry Potter while you're out. There's a good lad."
Voldemort watched the credits of "It's a Wonderful Life" finish rolling across the screen.
"That was…wonderful! The man was so unhappy, but in the end, all his friends came together and allowed him to keep running the business that drove him to suicide in the first place! If I was trapped in a horribly depressing dead end job, and I finally found a way out through bankruptcy, you guys would sell all your possessions to keep the company afloat for me, wouldn't you?" Voldemort asked as he blew his nose in a tissue.
Lucius looked at Wormtail. "Um…sure, sire."
"So, Lucius, I've decided my holiday will be called 'Tuesday'. Isn't it just perfect?" Voldemort asked excitedly as he admired his patent on snow.
"But we already have a Tuesday. Many of them in fact. It's kind of a sucky day." Lucius replied wearily. Voldemort's brow creased in thought.
"Well then…I shall call it… Voldemort's Bestest Holiday In the Whole Wide World. Mark it on your calendar."
"Should I put it after the massacre at Hogwarts, or before the conquering of Madagascar?"
"Hmmm…put it after our two-hundred-and-seventy-fifth attempt on Potter's life. Which, by the way, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. It seems to me as though we should have ramified this complication by now." Voldemort broke out in a wide grin. "Oh! Put another gold star on my chart, Lucius! I used the word 'ramified' in a sentence!"
A/N: Any updates after this (if there are any) will be put in a new chapter. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first time this was posted!
~ Hogwarts Dropout