Disclaimer - Harry Potter, both the book and the movies, belong to someone else. I have no rights to any of it. I just mess around with the characters and ideas a bit. See Author's note at end for important information.
Beware the Fearsome Dark Lord
The group of cloaked and masked individuals stood shivering in the large, cavernous room waiting for their lord to make his entrance. The room was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the sound of shifting robes. Times were getting hard. It had been a long struggle against the forces of light. The minions were hopeful, however, that their efforts would soon come to fruition. Success was finally within their grasp. All it would take was one last valiant effort and all their planning and hard work would finally pay off.
The tension in the room soared as their lord entered the room and took his place on his majestic throne. All cloaked and masked figures in the room bowed deeply before their lord. All of them were loyal and eager to hear their lord's plans for this, their final act to win this war.
"Welcome, my faithful," hissed their great and powerful lord. "Welcome to the dawning of a new era. Tonight, the world will learn our wrath. Tonight, we will triumph!" The cloaked followers cheered and threw themselves at their lord's feet. "Now listen carefully! It is very important that these plans go perfectly. I need all teams to assemble at . . . "
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The lone cloaked and masked individual walked further from the group, heading towards his designated position. All was nearly in readiness. The cloaked man smirked at the group of laughing children playing in the nearby park. The youths had no idea what fate awaited them this day!
A child broke away from her friends to chase the bright red, bouncing ball. The ball rolled to a stop in the center of the street before the cloaked man. He ignored the sphere and the approaching child, focusing on the promised starting signal from his team leader.
The child reached up and tugged on the man's sleeve, peering up in the dark shadows cast by his hood. "Excuse me, mister. Daddy says I'm not allowed to go in the street. Could you get my ball for me, please?"
Offended, the minion glared at the young child. "Of course not, fool! I must wait here for my lord's signal! All must be in readiness. Be gone, simpleton!"
"What? You're funny mister! There're no lords in this town. We just have the mayor!" The little girl stared incredulously at the buffoon in front of her.
"Blasphemy! My lord is great and powerful! He will rule the world! Fear him - He Who Must Not Be Named. He is...Lord Riredemort! The Laughter of Death! Fear him! Fear his laugh!"
A little girl tugged on the scary crazy-man's robe until he bent down: "Um, don't you mean 'fear his wrath'?"
Lord Riredemort's minion drew back, affronted. "Of course not, little girl! Rictumsempra!"
The End!
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Author's Note - This short story was inspired by a very late night series of emails between Novocain and I. She had left a review for my other story with the phrase MDR. I asked her what mdr stands for and learned that it was french for mort de rire which means "died of laughing." Voldemort means flight of death, and I just couldn't help thinking of a dark lord called Lord Riredemort. Most of the last three paragraphs were actually written by Novocain in her reply! I just had to put it in a fic! Hope you enjoyed!