Title: Sauronmort
Author: Muthru
Genre: Humor
Pairing/Characters: Voldemort, Albus, Flitwick, Hagrid, Minerva, Harry/Severus, Sybill, Sprout, Vector, Filch, Pince
Raiting: M
Warnings: Mention of slash/het, chanslash
Disclaimer: I Don't own a thing.
Summary: Christmas is the best time to gather riders, I mean friends.
A/N: This was first posted at lj comm tntdah under prompt #5: Sending rings to the nine senior faculty at Yuletide, with the return address "Voldemort", is not funny. A huge thank you to Sanguiyn who betaed this:)
Sauronmort
Voldemort couldn't help but chuckle. This was his best idea ever, even better than the false-Moody-Polyjuice-disaster. And to think the plan had lounged in Malfoy's library all this time.
He had been fortunate to wander there a few weeks ago when Narcissa had hosted her annual pre-Christmas party. Oh, the party had been as boring as ever. Apparently, nothing had changed since his first rise in power some seventeen years ago. The cakes were delicious and the wine heavenly, but the couple still hadn't taken to his idea of some nice party games. Like that new game called twister. He liked that one, but Narcissa had just looked at him as if he was some sort of slime ball then left the room.
Pah, women. He never understood them. Ah! And once again there was something he had in common with the Potter prat, if you were to believe the Prophet. Apparently the lad had broken up with the Weasley chit.
But back to the awesome plan. He circled the table and rubbed his hands together, a mad glint in his purple eyes (he had just newly started to wear his early Christmas gift from Wormtail).
Now to come up with a way to get these little precious things to the right people, he mused, and shouted to Wormtail to drag his overly large cellulite arse into the room.
The rat-like man crept into the lounge and offered tea to his Master, who didn't take the cup but ordered him to fetch his best quill and some small boxes.
The plump man snivelled out of the room and ran upstairs to get what his Master had asked for.
When he finally had the boxes in hands, he sat down and started to write. Oh, it was going to be the best Christmas ever. He was going to be invincible!
OoOoOo
Albus Dumbledore was having an early breakfast when a lonely owl flew in, carrying a small box. The bird circled the Great Hall for a few minutes before landing in front of Albus. It offered his leg to the Headmaster, who untied the box and then fed the owl some bacon.
"What have we here?" the old man muttered. He opened the harmless looking box to find it full of pink paper which he lifted, revealing something shiny on the bottom. He didn't reach to touch it but dropped the item onto the table instead.
He could now feel the powerful attraction the thing had on him. He wanted to touch it, to put his precious on his finger and--. Albus shook his head and poked the thing away from him.
"What a temptation," he mused, examining the ring.
"Who on earth would--" he wondered, reaching for the box to look for the sender's name.
"Oh, Tom," he sighed, banishing the thing into a cave in the Himalayas.
OoOoOo
Filius Flitwick was once again ready to spend a lonely Christmas without his beloved family. Not that he had a wife anymore – Lorey had died fifteen years ago – but he longed to see his daughter's new baby.
He had just woken up when an annoying knocking started at his sitting-room's window. He hopped from his warm bed and hurried to the frosty window to let the owl enter.
"And what do you have for me this early, my friend?" he asked, smiling. But the bird appeared to care only for his taking the small box from its leg.
"Oh, what is this?" Filius oohed and aahed when he opened the box.
"Hmm," he hummed when he finally lifted the small golden circle.
"What can this be? I have ne-- Oh!" he smiled enthusiastically, lifting his precious towards the light so he could see it better.
"Oh, oh! This little thing is a hula-hoop, of course!" he tittered. He whipped his wand out and charmed the ring to expand into a proper hula-hoop size.
"It's been so long!" he laughed and started to hula his hips in glee.
OoOoOo
Hagrid had just left the Forbidden Forest when Fang came out running from the hut. The dog barked, licked his master's large hand and poked him with his muzzle as if asking Hagrid to follow him.
"What is it, Fang?" the large man asked, scratching his dog behind the ear. The two entered the hut, Fang trotting to his mattress, and Hagrid to the kitchen area to put on a tea kettle.
A faint hoot startled Rubeus so badly he spilled the tea water all over the floor.
"Oh, an owl," he sighed, putting the old kettle onto the fire. He lumped towards the bird, which was sitting on the windowsill.
"I just wrote to Olympe, she can't 'ave written back yet," he mused before sitting down heavily to open the box.
"What is this? I've never seen a lonely earring," he said, puzzled. "Have you, Fang?" He looked at the small ring between his fingers.
"And it doesn't have an opening, does it?"
"I'd better make one. Could give it to Olympe." He smiled and went to fetch some tools to work on the earring.
Some five minutes later, he moaned, watching his precious. Apparently, he had hit it a bit too hard. Oh well, now he could go back to his original idea, her very own Hippogriff so she could fly to him every time she got lonely, which he hoped was a lot.
OoOoOo
Minerva had always been an early bird – or cat, depending on how you looked at it. But that morning, she had woken up extra early just to make sure she could arrange for Genev Highland to go home early. She was about to fire-call the girl's parents and ask when she could send her home via Floo when an owl entered her office.
She sighed, took the small box from the brown owl and opened it. Maybe it was an early Christmas gift from Albus, and if it was, she hoped it was something better than yellow socks, which she had got last year.
She peered in the box, her eyes narrowing into slits when she saw what was inside.
"Oh, he thinks he can just send it to me without even asking, the horny bastard!" she snarled, dropping the ring onto the table.
"Oh, my dear Minerva," she said, mimicking Albus voice, "you are so precious to me, I'm so glad to have you as my Deputy Headmistress." She stood up suddenly.
"I have waited for years for this to happen," she shrieked, "and if you think you'll get away with doing it like this, think again Albus, you old goat!" She walked to her window, opened it and tossed the ring onto the snow.
OoOoOo
"You'll never guess what I found, precious," Harry whispered into his lover's ear, left hand sliding down to cup the other man's assets.
"And what, pray tell, could be important enough for you to interrupt me in the middle of this?" his lover asked, stirring the bubbling liquid in the cauldron.
"Oh, you will love this, so stop being so snarky," Harry said, squeezing.
"Ah, and it can't wait for me to be ready, you impatient child?" his lover asked before lifting the stirring stick.
"I'm not a child and you know it! Why do you always have to go there?" Harry exclaimed, taking a step away from his lover.
"It's the truth, isn't it?" Severus said, crossing his arms.
Harry walked towards the fireplace to sit down on one of the couches. "I find something cool and you have to go and ruin it," he mumbled, staring into the fire with angst. "I know you're old enough to be my father, and if Sirius ever finds out… well let's not go there--"
Severus sighed, walked to his young lover and sat down next to him. Oh, he knew this was the worst idea ever, having a relationship with him, but the boy wouldn't go away!
"What did you find?" he asked, and then moved a little closer when he saw Harry smile and dig into his pocket.
"A cockring!" the boy exclaimed, showing him the golden ring.
"Isn't it a bit small?" Severus took the ring into his own hand; it looked just like the one he had got this morning.
"I want to try it." Harry smiled and walked towards Severus's bedroom; the Potions master stood up and followed. What wouldn't he give to be young and sixteen again!
OoOoOo
Sybill was a bit drunk. No, let's make that so drunk she couldn't even pull her panties on after using the toilet. She had had a small glass of her favourite sherry, which had suddenly turned into five then seven glasses, and then the bottle was empty.
Oh, what a lousy Christmas, and Potter isn't even going to die, her inner eye told her.
But what is this she thought. She poked at the small box on her table. An owl had probably brought it in. It was too small to be her precious sherry, she noticed sadly, but still opened it.
"A ring?" she wondered. "My inner eye did not see this, I shall have to return it." She turned the box to see the address where to send it back to.
"Moldivort? Your parents must have hated you, dear," she mumbled. She wobbly wrote the name on an envelope and dropped the ring inside. Now she had to find an owl to send it back.
"Here here owl owl," she chirped before passing out.
OoOoOo
Sprout and Vector had been friends for years. Best friends. But it was all coming to an end. They were having breakfast in the teachers' lounge when two owls had delivered them both a box. The two women had opened their box together, and when they had both seen the rings, it had started a small cat fight, rings rolling on the floor, forgotten.
"He is my precious!"
"He is not! I'm having his love child!"
"You hag! You are too old! I'm having his child!"
"With your menopause ending ten years ago? I don't think so!"
"Well, we are going to get a cat together!"
"Over my dead body!"
"Come to visit the greenhouse and I will see to it!"
"Like you ever could, you Hufflepuff!"
"You say it like it's a bad thing, you over-thinking Ravenclaw!"
"I hope I'm not disturbing, ladies, but I really have to come and fix the leak Professor Dumbledore mentioned," Argus Filch grunted, moving to the sink.
OoOoOo
Irma Pince had never liked having pointless things lying around her neat library or her rooms. And she sure wasn't going to keep this cheap trash any longer than she had to.
She had closed of her precious library for an hour and left to find Sybill. She was holding a small box in her hand, and when she finally reached her friend's tower, she opened the trapdoor and entered the smoky room.
"Sybill?" she called her friend. She didn't get an answer; where on earth could the woman be?
"I really don't have time to wait for her," she mused, before deciding to leave the box near her friend's empty sherry bottle.
Only minutes after she had left, Sybill lifted herself from under a table. She banged her head while getting up, causing her empty sherry bottle to crash down. She moaned and bent over to pick it up but just before her hands touched it, her eyes fell on a small box on the table.
"With love from Irma," she read out loud.
"Oh my dear, dear friend." She smiled, still a bit drunk, and opened the box.
"Ooh, I have always wanted something like this." She smiled again and put the ring on her finger.
OoOoOo
"Ak! Who the hell are you?" Voldemort shrieked when Sybill blobbed on his bed.
"Sybill. Who are you?" she asked, looking at Voldemort through her enormous classes.
"Voldemort!" the Dark Lord shouted, trying to pull the covers over his naked body.
"Moldivort? Oh, you parents must have hated you," she said tenderly, petting Voldemort's cheek.
End
