A/N: Hello all! It is I, the most Siriusly unSirius author in the world. I'm just so random! So, these are complete AU stories of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the Death Eaters.
Disclaimer: I don't own He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Or the Death Eaters. I'm going to have a bad guy named Valltedsittle with his army of … I don't know yet.
Voldemort woke up on a bright Tuesday morning, his first day in his body. He clutched his teddy bear— Mr. McStuffykins— to his chest tightly, not believing that he was really, once again, in his body.
He got up, and went to the bathroom of Malfoy Manor, where him and all the Death Eaters— once a few were taken out of Azkaban— would've residing.
He saw Draco approaching the bathroom in his pony and unicorn bathrobe and held out his hand.
"Draco!" he exclaimed. "The Dark Lord always gets bathroom first!"
Draco hurumphed, but stopped in his tracks to allow Voldemort in.
Voldemort stepped in front of the mirror to check his luscious black hair.
…
It wasn't there.
And he had no nose.
What the heck?
"WORMTAIL!" he screamed. Wormtail came rushing the the bathroom.
"Y-yes my Lord?" he asked anxiously.
"Where is my beautiful, gorgeous, luscious, smooth, silky, heavenly, long, flowing, black, evil hair! Tell me Wormtail! Where the evil is it?!"
"Uh… well… um," he stuttered.
"Don't stutter and answered me!"
"Um… DRACO TOOK IT!" he accused, and ran out of the bathroom as fast as his legs could carry him.
"Draco!" Voldemort called angrily. When there was no response, he stormed out of the bathroom.
The blonde boy was fast asleep against the wall. Voldemort smirked and headed back into the bathroom. He grabbed the shower house and stepped into the hallway. He took the hose, hit the button on freezing cold and sprayed it on him.
"HOLY MOTHER OF MERLIN!" Draco shouted. "WHAT THE EVIL WAS THAT?!"
Voldemort laughed, as the fifteen-year-old boy in pony robes yelled aloud.
"That," Voldemort answered after completing his laughing fit, "was payback."
"For what?" Draco asked, confused.
"For stealing my beautiful, gorgeous, luscious, smooth, silky, heavenly, long, flowing, black, evil hair!"
"I didn't take your hair!" Draco insisted.
"Wormtail lied to me then," Voldemort murmured to himself as he walked down the hall. "There will be time for pay back later. Now, I must find a wig to cover up my baldness. It simply isn't evil enough."
Voldemort exited the manor and headed to a wig shop down the block.
As he walked, he whistled the tune to Better Than Revenge by Taylor Swift. He loved evil songs, and sometimes, nothing could compare to Taylor.
He opened the door, and, it just so happened, he hummed song was being played in the store!
"Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did"
Ha!
Time for a little revenge
The story starts when it was hot and it was summer and...
I had it all, I had him right there where I wanted him
She came along, got him alone and let's hear the applause
She took him faster than you could say "sabotage"
Voldemort couldn't help himself, he began to sing along with the evil song.
"THERE'S NOTHING I DO BETTER THAN REVENGE!" he screamed out. The shop keeper looked up at him, shook his head, and looked back down to his work.
Voldemort hopped on one of the table displays and began moving his hips in a circle and putting his arms up in the air.
"She looks at life like it's a party and she's on the list. She looks at me like I'm a trend and she's so over it," he continued, loud enough so people on the street were turning to look into the shop and see what was going on.
"Sir—" the shop keeper began, but Voldemort interrupted him by doing the "Charlie Brown" and tumbling off the table.
"Silence!" Voldemort commanded. "I will not hesitate to Avada your Kedavra off."
"You might have him but haven't you heard. I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at, honey. You might have him but I always get the last word!" Voldemort sang, louder this time, even from the floor.
"Sir, I am going to have to ask you to leave—"
"SILENCE!" Voldemort screeched, climbing back on the table.
"THERE'S NOTHING I DO BETTER THAN REVENGE!"
Cop cars began to circle the small shop as Voldemort let out his last: "SHE TOOK HIM FASTER THAN YOU COULD SAY SABOTAGE!"
Voldemort ended with a final bellyflop to the floor. The cops came in, and tried to handcuff him, but Voldemort resisted.
"Avada— Av— Avad— Avada Kedav—"
With a taser to the head, the cops were able to haul him into the car. They brought him into the nearest station and threw him into a random cell until they could deal with him later.
There was already some one in the cell.
"Um hi," Voldemort greeted, "I'm Lord Voldemort, but you can call me You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
"I'm Half-A-Head Harold," the other man replied, sticking out his hand.
"Urm, why do they call you Half-A-Head?" Voldemort asked, scratching the back of his neck uneasily.
"I only gots half er head," Harold answered gruffly. He turned so Voldemort could see.
"Ulth," he groaned, "I think I'm going to be sick." In the place of the other part of his skull, was a clear piece of— metal maybe?— which allowed Voldemort to see his brain.
"That's whert everybody says ter first time," he said, "Yer'll get used to it."
"DEATH EATERS!" Voldemort yelled. "SAVE ME!"
A/N: So, first chappie done. This is not a one-shot (duh). So, I have a math competition tomorrow (Wednesday, March 6, 2013), well actually today. Wish me good luck guys! If there is any wacky thing you want the Death Eaters to do, just comment below and tell me. Thank you to my faithful reviewers, followers and favorites in advance. Cadberry Eggs to all of you! 8D