Plot? What Plot?
It was a nice sunny day in all of England. Well, almost all of England anyway. It was sunless, cloudy and cold at Riddle Manor. Lord Voldemort, or rather, He-Who-Sleeps-With-Fuzzy-Purkel-Unicorns, was lounging out back in the massive backyard in his new magical hammock supported in thin air. He was at peace, a bottle of Ogden's Best in one hand and a swiss roll cake in the other.
'Muggles might not be good for much, but,' He mused to himself, 'they make the BESTEST Little Debbie Snack Cakes.'
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A/N: Pure boredom after me and my friend spent about two hours seeing how many times we could flip a hammock over and land face-first on the ground.