A Death Eater Christmas (or It's Not Easy Being Evil)

More or Less something of a Comic Relief

Rated "R" for some mature themes and situations.  (I.E. the drunkenness of Voldemort.)

You have been warned. 

            -- mercy_angel_09


I hate Christmas.  Forget that.  I loathe Christmas.  All of that happiness.  All of that joy.  Yes, I hated Christmas.  I was the epitome of the Grinch.  I made Ebenezer Scrooge look like Father freaking Christmas.  Bah-humbug-and-get-the-hell-off-of-my-porch-before-I-fucking-blast-you-into-caroler-bits, I hate Christmas.

Perhaps it was because I never had a proper Christmas as a child.  Or maybe it was because idiots who loved the holiday constantly surrounded me.  Maybe it was combination of both.  But no matter what the case, I hated Christmas.

And I'll tell you why, from an objective, third person narrative.  I won't be narrating for the sake of presenting an unbiased story to you, the hopefully objective reader.


Voldemort stared out of one of the few unbroken windows in the Riddle house, despair appearing in his red eyes.  His pale skin gave a ghostly glow in the pale moonlight which made his red eyes stand out even more so than usual.


Peter Pettigrew, also (and further) known as Wormtail, approached him.  "Master, would you like me to milk Nagini for you?"

"No, no, leave me be, Wormtail."

"If you need anything, anything at all sir-"

"Yes, I need you to leave me alone."  Voldemort whipped out his wand from one of the many folds and creases in his robe and pointed it at Wormtail.  "Or you'll answer to this."

"As you wish master."

Wormtail slipped away, worried about his master.  The other Death Eaters had assembled in the main hall of the Riddle house, generally having a merry old time.  But the Dark Lord was depressed and was in need of a good cheering.

"Lucius?" Wormtail asked the nearest Death Eater, which he was sure was Malfoy.

"Malfoy's over there," the voice said gruffly.

"Dammit!  Will all of you take off the masks and hoods!  We're indoors where no one can see us!" Wormtail said in a very loud squeak.

The Death Eaters realized that Wormtail was right, and besides, they were tired of spilling the eggnog down the front of the robes.

Wormtail then easily found Lucius Malfoy and began to express his concerns for his master.  "You see, he's standing by one of the upstairs windows and-"

But he was unable to continue.  Narcissa had drunk too much eggnog (the real stuff people!) and was now starting a striptease.  "Lucius!  Do something!" Wormtail shrieked.

"Okay Narcissa, why don't you go upstairs a lie down for a little," Lucius said, taking her down from the table and handing her off to one of the other Death Eaters, who was heading up to use the toilet.  "Now, what were you saying Wormtail?"

            "I was saying that we need to get the Dark Lord involved in the party."

            "I thought that he didn't like Christmas."

            "He needs to socialize.  His social side of his heath triangle has been deteriorating since the incident with Potter, and, well-"

            "Of course.  We'll get Lord Voldemort involved.  Take him a glass of eggnog.  And wait, let me add a little something else."

            Lucius ladled a glass of eggnog and then added half of a bottle of vodka.  80 proof.

            "What are you going to do?" asked Wormtail, a note of panic in his squeaky voice.

            "Loosen him up a little.  If we're lucky, he might actually get some tonight and hopefully he won't be in such a pissy mood at the next meeting.  You know why he's like this, don't you?" Lucius asked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

            "Somehow I get the feeling that I don't want to know," Wormtail squeaked, knowing that it had something to do with the reason why there was so much alcohol in Voldemort's drink.

            "Because even though as Tom Riddle he was supposedly this hot-shot, good-looking, sex-pot, he could never get any.  He blamed his father for it you know.  The poor man has some real issues; it's too bad he'd blast any psychiatrist into pieces before undergoing therapy," Lucius said, shaking his head sadly.

            Wormtail had been right.  He didn't want to know, but because when drunk, Lucius couldn't keep his big mouth shut, Wormtail now knew.  And now he was going to have nightmares for the rest of his life because of it.

            "Okay, okay.  I get it Malfoy.  I'll just take this to the master," he muttered, taking the glass from Lucius and carefully heading upstairs to hand it Voldemort.


Please allow me to cut in.  You see, what you are about to bear witness to was not my fault in any way, shape or form.  If you do, you will die a very slow and painful death.


Voldemort watched the village children playing in the snow down in the streets.  He had a secret desire to join them, like the repressed child within him was trying to break free.  Because he had been at the orphanage for so long, he had been put in charge of the younger ones.  He had never been allowed to be a true child, and the urge was becoming irresistible. 


            Dear Lord, did the man ever stop groveling?


            "I brought you some eggnog my Lord."

            Voldemort grabbed the glass ad swallowed it in a gulp.  A sensation swept over him.  It was like flying, but not as fast.  He was floating.  He felt very relaxed and, for once in his life, happy.  "Wormtail?" he slurred.

            "Uh, yes my Lord?"

            "What are they doing - hic - downstairs?"

            "Uh, I believe they were going to start karaoke, my Lord."

            "Excellent."  He hiccupped and then chuckled.  "I have a number I'd like to perform."

            Wormtail assisted Voldemort to the stairs after he had walked into the wall once and almost out a window twice.  When they had finally reached the party, the Death Eaters (who had crumbs and eggnog all over their robes) watched in horror as Voldemort walked up to the stage, climbed up (with the help of Wormtail because he was unable to do it by himself) and picked up the wand, which was doubling as a microphone.  "Ladies and ladies," he began.  He must have found this highly entertaining because he laughed for ten minutes straight after saying it, and then regained (sort of) his composure.  "I have little song I'd like to sing."

            The Death Eaters looked for exits, but the Dark Lord had sealed them all.  The very same drunken Dark Lord that had found a new hobby in karaoke.

"Harry's with his Quidditch team

Ron's playing chess

No one gets to play with Voldemort

Voldemort's a pest

Hermione's at the Three Broomsticks,

Hanging with her schoolies

No one gets to hang with Voldemort,

He's just too unruly

It's not easy being evil, but evil's what I be."

            He let out a cold laugh that sent chills down the spines of every Death Eater.

"I'd like to be your buddy

Be invited to your house

But all your parents think

I'm just a stinky little louse

People think I'm the life of the party

Cause I tell a joke or three."

            Voldemort must have thought that this warranted a good cackle, but because of he was in a drunken stupor, he didn't do a very good job.

"It's not easy being evil, and evil's what I be

Yeeeaaaahh, choke on it."

            The Death Eaters remained in a stunned silence as Voldemort gave a clumsy bow and fell flat on his face.  Whether it was the fall, the alcohol, or both, he was unconscious, and the party was over.

            Wormtail shot a panicked look at Lucius who shrugged.  "So he won't get any.  But at least he's got colour in his cheeks."


And perhaps that's the ultimate reason why I hate Christmas.  Needless to say, there hasn't been a Death Eater Christmas party or alcohol served at Death Eater meetings since.


Ta-da.  Look, this was my first Harry Potter fic (Broken Fall came a bit later), staring a drunken Voldemort.  I'm also writing on another that stars Voldemort (the bad guys never get the credit they deserve).  Mainly the Dark Lord griping about how much he hates his minions, which I'm working on, but when I stumbled (well, not really stumbled) upon Zorak's "It's Not Easy Being Evil", I managed to twist it around so that would work.  And this is the result.  Yes, it's supposed to be stupid and meaningless, and feel free to have a good laugh at it.  That's why I wrote it.  R&R, flames, comments and suggestions are accepted.