Harry Potter: Assorted fan attacks
AN: I'll start off the first chapter…PM or Review me with requests if you would like to see a certain character in a certain scenario. Flames will be used to warm my cave and make s'mores.
Chapter One: The Fan Club of Voldemort
It's an average day in that neck of the English woods. Magical creatures bounding around, Hogwarts is in session, phoenixes randomly self-combusting, a certain warlock is out murdering people…ah yes, a perfectly normal day.
Yes, I'm talking about the one, and the only, Voldemort. He seems very evil to most people. Probably because his favourite pastime just happens to be murdering people, creating Horcruxes, and scaring the heck out of adults and little kids alike. Nobody dares to make fun of him or anything similar- the last person who did that died a horrible death years and years ago, before the time of that irritating Harry Potter. Harry Potter, the one commonly known as the 'boy who lived', otherwise celebrated as the one who made Voldemort blast himself in the face with his own death curse.
Can you blame him? You know the drill- sibyl prophesies, henchman hears it, brings it back to the master, only for the master to try to prevent it and then, to find out a few years later that what he knows isn't the whole story. But, by then, he's already spent a good 13 years of his existence in limbo on earth- not really dead, but not really alive, either. Added to that is the inconvenience of being too weak to go anywhere, along with a snivelling incompetent excuse for a servant. A few brave tries to gain a body- which, by some wild stroke of fate, is foiled, by none other than that irritating twerp he tried to kill years ago, times five, of course. Now he's even more annoying. He actually has a personality now. Yep, that's life for you, the average super-villain. Get cast into an important but unpleasant roll, give and get hard times, and REALLY bad pay. Good thing scaring people silly is such a fun hobby.
Or, it used to be, where he lives. Lately, Voldemort just hasn't been having much fun with it. People just aren't as feisty, or panicky, as they used to be. They don't cringe, or flinch, heck; they don't even fight back that much anymore. Harry Potter isn't much of a hope icon anymore, thankfully, he disappeared a year ago searching for those Horcruxes. Voldemort is glad he made them now- it'll keep Potter busy, him alive, and if he needs any- he can just kill someone and make more. Who cares if his soul is fragmented? It'll get him that much closer to immortality. Soul pieces can't exactly die, right? It's not like they're alive. But as stated, Voldemort's victims are getting to be boring. Whenever they see him now, they just seem to accept the fact that they're going to die, and just submit to it. No resistance, no fear, no show, nothing. Some of them even have this, "Oh well, if I have to die, I'll just go quietly. Save me the effort of useless struggling."
Wormtail seems to notice this lack of interest in the daily forays in his master, but he doesn't dare say a thing. Though Voldemort has killed less lately- with this kind of person, you can never be too sure. He even kills his own followers. T'is sad to see my great lord in such a state.
Voldemort wanders the streets of London rather listlessly. What fun is it to be killing people who don't even add to the drama? They just submit, like cows to the slaughterhouse. He is bored, dangerously so. Killing people isn't that much of a sport. He then realizes with horror that he has killed off all of the ones who had any intelligence, courage, or foolish hope of defeating him, leaving behind a herd of mindless, submissive, demoralized sheep for a town.
A loyal ninja fangirl trailing the odd pair on a rooftop looks on sadly. "How sad," she thinks, "the great Voldemort looks so depressed and well, not as charming as when he actually enjoys what he does." She would approach him, but tomes about him had taught her that Voldemort is unpredictable, and dangerously so, especially when depressed and bored. As much as she loves and admires this pale-faced, tall, and horribly short-changed super villain whom she found quite handsome in his past incarnation, she is too fearful of her own life and WAY too shy to confront this great wizard. As Ollivander said, "He has done great things, terrible, but great." She thinks for a while.
An invisible light bulb goes off over her head. She is a ninja, yes, but also a weird kind of witch, if you consider summoning, displacement and concealment jutsus a kind of magic. She remembers that tomorrow, she is heading to Canada for the annual Magic Convention- where there are, coincidentally, many Voldemort fangirls, Muggle and Magic. She recalls that in a contest, she had won three tickets, but only needed one. So she decides that now, she has found a suitable person to give the remaining two tickets to. She really would have preferred to give it to Voldemort only, as she isn't as fond of Wormtail, but eh, you can't win 'em all. She uses a Summoning Jutsu to materialise the two tickets and, plotting their path of travel, navigates ahead of them and waits on the roof. As they approach her hiding place, she takes a deep, silent breath, praying for courage to do this seemingly impossible task unnoticed. Seeing them about to pass, she flings the two tickets down to them, setting them aflutter, and then quickly hops away.
Two tickets, wafting softly in the wind, landed in Voldemort and Wormtail's hands. Attached to it is a note:
To the esteemed Lord Voldemort and Servant Wormtail,
Please find enclosed two tickets to Canada. Perhaps you shall find a cure to boredom in this colony-now-country from this humdrum little town.
Signed,
Myoka.
PS: Don't look for me. We'll meet soon enough.
Voldemort brightens fractionally at the prospect of unconquered territory. Perhaps here, the killing will be more interesting. That eternally irritating Potter boy wouldn't be able to find him so easily, as Canada is so large. (What, you think all super villains are pea-brained idiots who don't know squat about the world?) He is, however, still suspicious of the sudden turn of fortune. How could this have happened right then? Was someone trying to draw him into a trap?
"Master, this trip would be benevolent. Your lordship needs a vacation, and if I may be so bold to state so, your lordship does appear to be in need of a vacation." Wormtail says eloquently in his nasal, whiny voice.
Voldemort considers it, and after a bit of thought, decides it couldn't hurt, and the next day, both, (as hard as it is to imagine) hops onto the said plane, on the (get this) AIR CANADA. Sitting in the aisle seat next to them, is a small, black haired girl, about, oh, 16-17 years old. As she turns to see whom her seatmates (for lack of a better term) are, her eyes nearly bug out in her glasses.
Voldemort smiles evilly on his pale, snakelike face. Yes, fear me, insignificant girl. He thinks.
But as he looks closer, he sees in dismay, that it is NOT fear on her face, but pure, unadulterated admiration.
"Are you…The Great Lord Voldemort?!" she gushes. "Oh my gosh! I've always wanted to meet you! Wow! C-can I get your autograph?"
Voldemort is taken aback, to say the least, and, not knowing what to do in this odd situation, signed her notebook, then watched dumbfounded as the girl, anime style, started spouting hearts and flowers from the top of her head. He sits a bit miffed through the plane ride, relishing in the fear the other passengers seem to have of him. Yes, hunting in this new country would be LOTS of fun.
Or, so he thinks.
As soon as he lands, and passes through a very nervous customs official, (is it because they know who he is, or is it just because he looks so darn scary?) he and Wormtail pick up what little luggage they have, and exit the airport, heading to a hotel.
But then, when you're a celebrity, broke or not, you have a chance of developing a fan club.
In Voldemort's case, it's a fairly large fan club.
How does he know, you ask? Well, as soon as he set foot outside the airport, a dismaying scene meets his snakelike eyes.
Instead of people staring and then all running away, there are people staring at him, smiling, complete with the whole "Welcome to Canada, would you like a complementary Maple Sugar Candy" thing, and…
Fan girls. Lots and lots of fan girls, staring at him, and then…
They all rush at him, doing the classic mobbing. He, the fearsome Voldemort, in less than five minutes after landing in Canada, is mobbed by a horde of eager fan girls. He is not, as he had hoped, feared, but admired and welcomed. But, let's go back to the current scene. The fan girls surround him and are bugging him for photos, autographs, autographed books, and magic demos? He angrily tries to shrug them off, but after a period of camera flashes, paparazzi evasion, autograph requests, tackling by fan girls, attacks from other fans who hate him and general mobbing, he realizes that resistance is futile, and that it is a HUGE waste of energy to try. So, he, shamefully to himself, surrenders to a greater power than fear: The power of devoted fandom. All the while, through the signing and endless photos, realizing two things: Super villains need love and get it, sometimes, instead of being hated all the time, like the way a little girl just came up to him and started attacking him, sheesh, and he couldn't kill the kid. (Four possibilities for this: The kid really beat him up. Or he was too embarrassed, or…oh gosh…does he have a soft side the cuteness of an attacking tot has appealed to?! Or he was lazy.) The other lesson being: If you see fan girls, run away immediately. Having waited and wondered what was going on, he was defeated by the power of fandom…something Harry Potter could never have thought of.
Moral: Fans can be dangerous. If you are a celebrity, bask in the glory of admiration…and exercise much caution. The endless tackles, flash blinding, and writer's cramp from the signatures just isn't worth it.