Disclaimer: It's mine. It used to be J.K.'s but I stole it because I is the Lord and Master of evil and that is what I does.
A/N: And welcome to the second instalment. Someone suggested I write this a while ago and the temptation was too much. There may be a few more of these depending on whether this works. It's been over two years since the last one was written so I might have botched this one up completely.
Like all chavs, Voldy uses some quite unsavoury language. If this bothers you, turn back now, I would.
You wouldn't believe it. Telling you now, my life is a sit-com. In the past few years I have lived on the back of a man's head, messed around with pre-teen minds (which sort of bordered on child abuse, but we won't go there) and had a year off while this Sirius Black business calmed down.
Speaking of which - Sirius Black. Sirius-not-even-my-mother-gives-a-toss-Black, has completely stolen my thunder. Anything I do, it's still Black's name on the front pages.
And he hasn't even done anything! That's what gets me. I have had to work my arse off on this whole hostile take over bid and he's done eff all. Peter, stop blocking out my swear words.
He's done nothing and I've killed hundreds. I'm going to have to step up my game. He's not beating me in the publicity stakes.
Anyway, anyway, anyway, this writing is horrendous because it's Wormtail's. Unfortunately, back I may be, but I don't have any hands yet like. In fact, I gots nothing. But get this, I wake up one morning and I thinks the whole debacle has been a very strange dream. I thinks I ought not to eat so much cheese before bed again, but no. And the reason I knew I wasn't dreaming was Peter's looking an awful lot uglier these days. Now, if you ask me, he was never no oil painting but he used to be moderately good looking and now his hair's falling out, his teeth hang out over his lips and he's got a gaping wound on his left hand. Oh yeah, and I ain't got round to telling you about his spots.
Sorry, Wormtail. I know it's customary to bitch about someone behind their back but you have to be my hands, see. So stop squirming and write it down. No, not that bit. I've got to hire someone with half a brain cell to take my notes in future. Peter, at this rate, I's gonna have to bust a cap in yo ass. Still, I suppose I have to take whatever I can get.
Anyway, you'll have to ignore the ramblings, he's not very good at understanding just what he needs to write down and what he doesn't.
So anyway, where was I?
Oh yes. I was waking up. And I get Wormtail back.
It's a bit of an anti-climax really. If he hadn't kept interrupting my flow it wouldn't have been built up so much. You're an idiot, Wormtail, you hear me? And you deserve to die. You should have let your friends kill you.
Lol. Jokes. You have to bring me back first. After that, you can go die in a hole.
Hah! Wormtail's face is well funny. He looks like he's been kicked in the Pancreas. There's a thought. Does Wormtail have a pancreas? I thought that was women…will look it up. Well, Wormtail will.
Yes he does. But he doesn't have a placenta.
P.S. Wormtail, it may have escaped your notice but nine is not the usual progression from twelve. People with brains opt for thirteen, dipshit. The fuck is wrong with you, man?
July 15th - get it down like a good little worm
Can't believe he writes down literally everything I say. Driving me up the fucking wall, man!
So I'm calling him Wormtail. It really gets to him. *Insert evil laugh cackle*. We're on the hunt for a body. I is well tired of living like a snake - though I will never be tired of Slytherin.
P.S. Do you like what I did there? I crack myself up.
Found a body. I look like such a bloody idiot in it. Still though, having a body is well good. I can go exploring in it. What I need is another one so I can have one for the week and one for Sunday best.
Have told Wormtail I have a swish little mission for him…
Took him long enough. I sent him off to look for Bertha Jorkins. I thinks she has some pretty mint information. He met her in a pub and lured her back. He's so proud of himself, wandering around like the Kneazle who got the cream.
Kneazles are lactose intolerant apparently.
Finally got what I needed out of Jorkins and fuck me! Someone had put a memory charm on her. I was proper amazed. So anyway, I finds out that apparently Crouch replaced his son with his dying old girl and took him home. I don't know what Bertha was doing in a position where she'd see the bedrooms. I'm a lot of things but I'm not a snooper. They did not call me Peeping Tom at school and I don't care what anyone tells you. I'm telling you they didn't, so shut up.
So I left it at that. And pried so far that I found out Crouch's son is still alive and well and living in England. It's been too long. We, like, totally have to hit up Hogsmeade.
Killed Bertha in my smashing new body that makes me look like a foetus. Actually, I'm starting to like it now. Wormtail says it's so this season.
P.S. Just noticed Wormtail's wearing odd socks and his trousers only reach his ankles. Will not take 'this season' advice ever again. May have to go back to baseball cap and trackies. Say what you will about Muggles - kill the lot of them, but leave the designers at Nike well alone.
Back home. Would have got to England sooner but Wormtail kept leaving stuff behind. The fuck does he want with an LGBT society pass anyway?
Bit creeped out, to tell you the truth. Some twat has set up house in me dad's gaff. Bet he's a squatter. He looks like one. Frank, his name is. Think I'll lure him up here and kill him. Sounds like a plan.
Had a creepy little surprise planned, but I'm not sure it's worked. I blame Wormtail. He had nothing to do with it, but everyone else blames him for everything. Why break the habit of a lifetime, eh, Wormtail?
I is being driven round the bend. I have got to get my crew back. Sitting here with Wormtail like we're the fucking odd couple, is starting to piss me off good and proper.
Missing Bellatrix. She was a psychopath, but she was bang tidy!
I'd give her one.
Fuck off, Wormtail. She is proper out of your league.
Maybe even two or three if she was nice to me.
Wormtail, I is, like, ROTFL. Not 'appenin, bruv.
I know. What with her being in prison.
In future, you write what I damn well tell you. What's the point of having a slave if it don't do what you tell it?
The monotony of life continues.
That was proper poetic. Suggested changing my name to William Wordsworth. Wormtail disagreed - said he didn't know who Wordsworth was. I told him not to be such a stupid twat. Wished I hadn't then 'coz he only went and asked me who he was. I didn't have a fucking clue.
Don't know who he asked, but Wormtail has found out that Wordsworth is not, in fact, a member of Take That. Think he may have lost respect for me. We is no longer safe. FML.
Fucking mad one last night! No word of a lie, Blood. We broke into Crouch's place, put him under the Imperius Curse, saved Barty, and planned a murder. Barty's got it all thought out. It is well good.
What we're going to do is put Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire. This is going to be the tricky bit, but Barty's well clever and Peter's not a bad little Potioner.
Now here's the thing:
Peter went snooping and eavesdropping - what he does best - and found out that Dumbledore (I really need to think up a bitchy nickname for him - where's Bellatrix when you need her? She was ace at bitching!) wanted to have Moody as his Defence teacher. Uppity little fuck should have come to me. I could have taught those kids useful shit.
Anyway, Sirius Black (could do with bitchy nickname for him too) broke out of the lockdown and Dumbles decides he doesn't want an auror. Instead, he wants a skanky werewolf.
Works out better for us anyway. Peter says we'd never have got the werewolf. (Don't go yapping on about it, but I believe him - last time, whatshisface Lupin started talking back to me and nearly bored me to death). Fuck Mandrakes, keep the earmuffs for when a werewolf's making a speech.
So now instead of breaking into Lupin's filthy tramp Muggle mother's cottage (which would have been a piece of piss), we're breaking into Moody's house (which won't be). Talk about a walk on the wild side. Because I have respect for Moody, we're just going to beat him senseless, shove him in a trunk, and yank out bits of his hair everyday to make a Polyjuice Potion for Barty.
Told you he was clever, didn't I.
And I'm not sure what happens next because I wasn't really paying attention. Something about a fire and Potter. I think we're gonna burn the little bastard. Loves it.
Frank finally comes snooping. SO FUCKING FUNNY!
You should have seen the look on his face!
We've got the whole scam planned now. I feel like a proper hustler.