Disclaimer: I do not own Voldemort, Harry Potter, or any of the other characters you recognize in this FanFic; they are owned / created by the inimitable and so very talented J.K. Rowling. I am simply playing with her characters for my own enjoyment (and hopefully your enjoyment as well).

This amusing little Fanfic was inspired by something my best friend said to me... he said "Create a story that ends with Voldemort looking very disgruntled riding a bus home". I took him quite literally, and this is the result. I do realize it is not at all realistic, as compared to HP Canon, but it's just a funny little idea I had, stemming from my friend's comment. Enjoy! ^_^

0000

Voldemort's Worst Day

"Oh... that hurt... my head..." the tall, lanky man slowly picked himself up off the floor, and looked blearily around the dark room. There seemed to be no one else around. "Where... where am I? This isn't Malfoy's Manor..." he raised his hands to his bald head and massaged his temples for a minute before he realised he still had his wand. He raised his wand and pointed it in front of him.

"Lumos..." he muttered. Nothing happened. "What the..." "Lumos!" he spoke louder. Still nothing happened.

"Oh... no... don't tell me..." he began randomly saying spells, waving the wand wildly as his voice became increasingly louder and more panicked; nothing resulted from his desperate words.

"Lumos! Accio! Aguamenti! Confringo! Lumos! LUMOS!" the man sank to his knees with a horrible cry of despair.

"No! This cannot be! I am Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard ever to cast a spell since Salazar Slytherin! This cannot be happening to me!"

He got to his feet again and stumbled toward the door; he was in a large, dark and empty room; there was one door with light streaming in through the small dingy window. He went through the door and his red eyes widened in horror at the sight that greeted him... there were tall buildings of... some slick shiny material other than stone, and the streetlamps were not lit by flames; there were... odd looking carriages rolling down the street, low-riding, four-wheeled... things in all colours; Voldemort's hope sank as he realized where he was... he was in a Muggle neighbourhood! Oh, the horror! To be surrounded by these... these... vile creatures! Voldemort let out a pitiful whimper and sank once more to his knees.

0000

Lucius Malfoy was frantic as he searched the Manor for his Master; he could not understand why Lord Voldemort had simply... vanished with a pop, and Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Bloody-Well-Die, had stunned the remaining Death Eaters and Apparated out of the Manor while Lucius himself had fled to search for the Dark Lord. Lucius remembered well the event that lead to Voldemort's disappearance...

(Voldemort was seated at the head of the table in the dining room of Malfoy Manor, with his faithful Inner Circle Death Eaters seated around the table as they plotted yet again how to finally kill Harry Potter. Nott was telling everyone about his plan to attack Harry Potter during a Hogsmead Weekend, when the Hogwarts students would be away from Dumbledore's protection. Suddenly the door crashed open, and as the Death Eaters leapt up from their seats, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Poor-Voldemort-To-Tears sauntered in, wand at the ready.

"Hello, everyone! Are you all enjoying your little dinner party?" he called jovially as he shot a few Stunners and took out Crabbe Sr, Goyle Sr, Nott Sr, and Bellatrix LeStrange in the space of the few seconds it took for Voldemort to react. The remaining Death Eaters fled the room - "Traitors! Vile cowards!" Voldemort thought to himself as he drew his wand and snarled a challenge to Potter. He was too busy fuming internally at the cowardice of his followers to hear what Potter was saying, and could not react in time to block the jet of multi-hued light that shot from Potter's wand to collide rather painfully with Voldemort's chest...

"Damn you, Potter!" he shrieked as everything went black.)

Lucius snarled to himself as he remembered the cocky smirk on Potter's face; he only wished he could have destroyed the boy. "But nooo... you had to go and stun half the Circle and send the Dark Lord to Merlin only knows where; I will get you for this, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lost-Me-A-Perfectly-Good-House-Elf! Mark my words!"

0000

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, sat at the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place, recounting to Remus, Sirius, Hermione, Ron and Ginny the events that led to his triumphant return from Malfoy Manor. "So I said 'You hate Muggles so much, Tommy, let's see how you'll fare as one!' and I pointed my wand at him and used the spell 'Mione told me about: Ich verbanne Sie; and now Voldemort's magic is gone! He won't be able to cast so much as a Lumos now!" Harry and the others laughed uproariously; Ginny was the first to collect herself; "But Harry, why did he vanish? Where did he go?"

"Oh, Merlin knows, Gin... but you can imagine he won't be having too much fun!" Harry snickered as he pictured Voldemort trying to cast spells.

0000

"This is by far the worst day of my life..." Voldemort was sitting petulantly in the back of a Muggle mass-transit vehicle called a 'Bus', arms crossed over his chest as he slouched lower in the seat with a childish pout on his pale face. He had tried for hours to cast the simplest of spells, with no result, and was now very disgruntled. And there was a small Muggle child a few seats in front of him, kneeling facing the back of the bus, staring at him over the back of the seat in that wide-eyed inquisitive way that children have. If only he could... but... no, without his magic, he was defenseless, a large, burly Muggle man who could only be the little brat's father was sitting beside the creature; there was nothing he could do but bear it, but my! how that child annoyed him! Yes, this was indeed the worst day of Tom Riddle's life.

The End