Crack'd Mirror


WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.

Author's Notes: This story is a broad parody with over the top humor (most of this humor is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (OutOf Character actions). To reiterate; this is a parody with a great amount of sex jokes and sex scenes.

Polygamous Relationship ahead (multiple partners). If this concept bothers you; don't read. Also, major, and I do mean M-A-J-O-R Ron bashing.

Inspired by the classic Star Trek "Mirror Mirror"

On a stony outcropping at the base of a hill under an ancient castle, thirteen black robed figures stood in a circle. Inside this circle, on the stony floor, was a ten foot wide pentagram drawn in human blood. The full moon shined overhead, washing them all in silvery light. Unseasonably cold night air made their skin prickle. And the dark magic that flowed freely about the pentagram made their hearts race with excitement (well, most of their hearts raced with excitement...).

"Are you certain it was supposed to be human blood?" one robed man asked in a nervous whine. "Aren't these things supposed to be done with goat's blood? I mean, human sacrifices make me edgy."

"Be quiet, Wormtail," Lord Voldemort, the most feared dark wizard in decades, snapped in his high, girly voice. "I must concentrate!"

The sickly pale and snake-like man carefully stepped into the pentagram while chanting under his breath. He held up high over his head a glimmering sapphire the size of a potato. It sparkled and glowed in the eerie moonlight. The Dark Lord carefully placed the precious jewel just slightly off the center-point of the pentagram.

"Um, pardon sire, but the Summoning Sapphire is not in the exact center of the pentagram," one Death Eater informed meekly.

"I know that, fool!" Voldemort snapped savagely. "This pentagram is a map to the infinite realities. Every inch of this wondrous design is a portal to a different world. The location of where I place the stone indicates from which of those countless realities I shall call my duplicate."

While Voldemort lectured his minion, he discreetly toed the sapphire into the exact center of the pentagram. It was a good place to start after all, but Voldemort didn't want to tell his minion that he had a good idea.

"How dare you question me, dolt," the Dark Lord snarled... girlishly.

Turning his attention back to the ritual, Voldemort shouted the incantation in a loud, booming voice – well, as booming as his girly voice could get.

"Hear me, oh masters of time, space, and anything else that might be listening! Open up the gates between worlds so that I can call forth my brother from that realm unto this world!"

The air crackled around the pentagram. Voldemort knew this meant he had successfully completed the first part of the ritual.

"Come forth from your world, my equal, and join me here in my world so that we may rule together!"

In a blink of an eye, the blood that had formed the pentagram disappeared in a puff of smoke. Voldemort looked to his left, then his right in naked confusion as if he had expected someone to show up.

"There's no one here!" he shouted. "Why is there no one here?"

The other figures in black robes stood in silence, each one fearing to answer their master. Lord Voldemort quickly lost his patience and pointing at one of his minions at random, demanded, "Tell me what happened?"

"Um, it went poof," the nameless oaf offered.

"Crucio!" Voldemort shouted. The nameless oaf fell to the cold stone floor, screaming in agony. The villainous wizard pointed to the wizard next to the nameless oaf and yelled "Tell me what happened? Why is my duplicate not standing beside me? And if your answer is half as stupid as that other fool's, you'll beg for mercy."

"I am but an insignificant bug to your vast knowledge, Master, but if I may speculate," the wizard, Severus Snape, began. He spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words as to not offend Voldemort. "Perhaps the alternate reality you chose did not have a version of you in it to call forth. It is possible that the world you selected never knew the joy of your presence."

"Although I'm loathe to think of such a dismal place, it is a possibility," Voldemort said thoughtfully. "This is just a minor set back in my grand scheme. I shall perform the ritual again, this time I will place the sapphire in another location. Gibbs, prepare another of the virgins you brought; we need their blood to draw a new pentagram."

"Um, wait... a virgin?" a wizard, obviously Gibbs, asked apprehensively. "I thought you said the sacrifices were to be 'untouched.' No one said nothing about no virgins."

"You imbecile!" screeched Voldemort, sounding like a six year old girl throwing a temper tantrum while in a doll shop. "What did you think was meant when I said 'untouched'?"

"You know, 'don't touch,'" Gibbs said while wetting himself. "I used Levicourpus to bring them here that way they weren't touched."

"Crucio!" screamed Voldemort. After several minutes of Gibbs' screams, Voldemort cried, "You're lucky that the alternate reality did not have my peer, fool. Virgin's blood is a key component to this summoning ritual. Your foul up would've had completely unpredictable results! Crucio!"

After another minute of Gibbs' screams, Lucius Malfoy suggested, "Sire, the answer is easy. All we need to do is find a virgin."

"Oh, I'm so glad I took the time to break you out of Azkaban," jeered Voldemort. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a virgin? It's 1996! You'd have a better chance of finding a Crumple-Horned Snorkack than finding a virgin!"

"We'll just use Wormtail," offered Malfoy.

"Point taken," Voldemort turned and smiled at the watery eyed virgin in question.

"Wait, no," the rat like man trembled in fear. "I'm not a virgin."

To this, all but Wormtail and the lone witch of the group laughed uproariously.

"No. Really. I'm not a virgin anymore," Wormtail defended earnestly.

"Ri-i-ight," Malfoy said with a snicker.

"Seriously, ask Bellatrix," Wormtail said, pointing to the only witch in the group. "We've had sex!"

All eyes turned to the witch. They waited for her to deny Wormtail's claim. But when she did not, Rodolphus, the witch's husband, asked in disbelief, "Bellatrix, how could you... with Wormtail?"

With an apathetic shrug of her shoulders, Bellatrix admitted, "I was drunk and randy. He was the only man around."

"Wormtail; a man?" asked Voldemort incredulously.

"Well, the only man-ish thing around at the time," corrected the black haired witch. "I was in a bind."

"Fine then, if Wormtail's not a virgin, we can use Snape," Lucius said. "I've never seen him with a woman."

Snape made a coughing noise and turned to look down his long, hooked nose at Bellatrix.

"Bellatrix? With Snape?" a shocked Rodolphus asked. "Were you drunk then, too?"

"No, it was dark and I couldn't see who I was with," she replied with a huff, already growing bored with the conversation. "Listen, if you're going to rattle off the names of all of our fellow Death Eaters that might be virgins, don't bother. If they were virgins before, they're not now."

"All of them?" Rodolphus asked. "You've slept with all of the Death Eaters?"

"Not at the same time," she said casually. "Four or five at once, sure. But no more than that. Well, there was that night with those six new recruits. But, like I said, they were just recruits and hadn't taken our Master's mark so they don't count."

"But why?"

"I was locked up in Azkaban for over ten years," she replied while idly digging a bit of dirt out from under one of her nails. "I've got a lot of time to make up for."

"Enough of this," snapped Voldemort. "Go out and find me some virgins so that I can bring an alternate version of myself here so together we can bring this world to its knees!"

As the Death Eaters scattered in different directions to find virgins, one was heard to ask, "Does the world even have knees?"


When Voldemort had punished Gibbs for not providing a virgin, he had mentioned something about "completely unpredictable results"occurring because of his mistake. Well, early the next morning, just as the sun peeked over the horizon, that "completely unpredictable result" woke up in a very bad mood in a house in Little Whinging.

To Be Continued

Author's Notes: tip of the hat to Rorschach's Blot and his many fine works