Disclaimer: JKR created the Harry. JKR created the Ron. JKR made up
Hermione. And this is just titchy fandom. Rowling, oh Rowling, thanks for
creating Harry Potter! Rowling, oh Rowling, thank you for all you have
done!
[/'My Bonny Lies Over The Ocean' Tune]
As of yet, I'm not quite sure where the story is going. I'm only sure that I'm going to finish it. Some day. You are warned that this is contains too much OOC to be serious!fic but plenty of allegory for the bored MSTer. Interpretive Sparkles are sho fun.
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Voldermort lounged casually upon his throne, picking his teeth with the bone of what had been a particularly tasty Hippogriff. It was not the right Hippogriff, the one that Wormtail told him had ferried that confounded Sirius Black to safety and supposed freedom, but it had been a tasty Hippogriff all the same. He burped unceremoniously, but it was an evil burp, and therefore it was good.
The world was a good place.
Now that pissed Voldermort off. As far as he was concerned, the world was not supposed to be a good place. It was supposed to be bad. Badder than bad. It was supposed to be one whole heap of bad with him on top of it as the Lord of Bad. Voldermort picked feverishly at his teeth. His thoughts were always incoherent after a particularly good meal.
It was because good did not go with bad, Voldermort decided. To be perfectly bad, one had to completely cut oneself off from anything good. If that meant ingesting large quantities of flobberworms, then, by God, he would do so.
Hang on, Voldermort didn't believe in God.
But that wasn't the point. Voldermort reached out and picked up the bell that stood upon his side table, giving it a little tinkle. Immediately, Wormtail appeared.
"What can this humble servant do for you, my master, my lord, my all powerful top dog?"
"Round up the Death Eaters. I've got a plan."
"My lord, wouldn't it be faster if you just pointed your wand at my Dark Mark and caused me and my fellow minions searing, unbearable pain?" Wormtail asked, crawling forward (for he was at present on his knees) and offering his left arm for Voldermort's inspection. Voldermort curled his lip in revulsion. Clearly, Nott's spell to make Wormtail more useful had also succeeded in making him more revolting than ever. But Wormtail was right. The Dark Mark worked better than any other form of communication.
"BZZZT."
As Wormtail rolled about the floor in an ecstasy induced by pain and the pleasure of doing something to help his master, Voldermort inspected the tip of his wand with mild curiousity. That muggle he'd gotten Malfoy to kidnap really had known what he was doing. His wand now made all sorts of funky sounds when he used it. His favourite sound effect was the one that happened when he used the Cruciatus curse.
"Crucio!" He shouted just as someone apparated into his throne room. The girly shrieks of pain told him it was Avery. "Silencio!" As Avery's howling cut itself off abruptly, Voldermort sighed in satisfaction as Saruman's voice filled the room.
"TO WAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!!!"
Now that was a wizard. Pity about the Ents and the upstart race of Men. Muggles. One and the same through every dimension and time zone.
As his other Death Eaters began trickling in, Voldermort smirked at Avery's attempts to stop looking reproachful. It was really no use. Voldermort loved his special wand. It was a pity Wormtail had taken his orders so seriously. 'You're so brilliant you shouldn't be allowed to live.' was not supposed to be taken in that context. He waved his wand around again and watched as the men flinched, ducked and generally rolled around in an effort to stay out of range. He patted his wand fondly and settled back onto his throne, waiting for his men to finish hiding behind each other while looking at him warily.
"Two weeks. Two weeks I have been idle, and none of you has succeeded in bringing me Potter's head. In fact, none of you has actually succeeded in anything at all." Voldermort allowed his voice to become chilly.
"My lord, I caught you that Hippogriff..." MacNair murmured, nursing his hand. The Hippogriff had cost him two fingers.
"And it was good." Voldermort replied in a voice that implied that it was not. In fact, his voice did mean exactly that it was not. "Which is what I need to talk to you about."
"A good Hippogriff, master?" Crabbe asked, scratching his head. "What about a good Hippogriff?"
"Nothing, Crabbe, you infinitely backward creature." Voldermort contemplated performing the Cruciatus curse on Crabbe, just to hear Saruman's immensely fulfilling voice, but decided that it went against what he was trying to get at. "I want to talk to you about things which are good."
He swept off the throne, his long cloak billowing out behind him as he did so. His followers made a ring around him as he paced back and forth in their midst. A nervous, flinching ring.
"As you all know, we are committed to the cause of evil. We are on a crusade to demolish all that is good in this world. Are we not, Malfoy?" Voldermort paused and gave Malfoy his most slitty-eyed stare.
"We are, my lord." Malfoy replied steadily.
Voldermort grumbled inwardly. Malfoy was much too cool and collected. Weaker men would have quaked and required intensive treatment under that stare. "Then why, might I ask, are you living the good life?"
"I don't understand, my lord." Ah, a quiver. Excellent. Voldermort was pleased.
"Why, when we are committed to demolishing all that is good, do you live in a house that has good quality furniture, good quality food, and dress in clothes that make you look good?" Voldermort thought the last part of the question was really a no-brainer, but he did not care, as the question was rhetorical anyway. "My Death Eaters! Here, the root of our problem is revealed! We cannot truly be evil, we cannot succeed in being evil, for we still cling on to that which is good!"
While a ripple of confusion surged through the ring, Avery had the lack of sense to mutter, "That didn't make any sense."
"TO WAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!!!"
After the howling had died down, Voldermort resumed his seat upon his throne and sat surveying his Death Eaters. "Bad and good are two complete oppositions, as are black and white, yin and yang, free time and inspiration from muses. You cannot have one and the other together. Do you understand this?"
"Yes, yes my lord." Came the general reply.
"Therefore we must cut away every facet of our life which is good and subject ourselves to all that is bad, filthy, horrible, disgusting and vile."
"My lord, not filthy!" Malfoy ejaculated in horror.
"Yes, Malfoy, filthy." Voldermort thought he heard Malfoy's heart smashing into smithereens. "And don't forget bad dress sense."
Malfoy fainted at this point. Voldermort smirked. Even Archilles had his heel.
"Master, I will do whatever you wish. I will roll around in the sties of pigs. I will eat the uncooked larvae of Blast-ended Skrewts. I will wear nothing but a potato sack that is scratchy and unmerciful on skin such as mine. I will..."
The force of the Silencing Charm that Voldermort promptly cast on the groveling Wormtail was nothing compared to the unearthly wail of anguish that was the sound effect of his wand.
"Now, I want you all to return to your homes and purge yourselves of all that can be construed as good. Then I want you to think about an ultimate weapon. An ultimate weapon that can cause its victims pain upon pain, horror upon horror, anguish upon anguish, despair upon despair and so on and so forth. In a week, you will bring this to me." Voldermort looked intently at Crabbe and Goyle. "One week." He repeated. "Seven days."
"Yes, master." The Death Eaters murmured. Voldermort dismissed them with a flick of his wand, and one by one they began to disperse.
An ultimate weapon. Voldermort ran his fingers along his wand and smiled. Soon, he would take over the world.
[/'My Bonny Lies Over The Ocean' Tune]
As of yet, I'm not quite sure where the story is going. I'm only sure that I'm going to finish it. Some day. You are warned that this is contains too much OOC to be serious!fic but plenty of allegory for the bored MSTer. Interpretive Sparkles are sho fun.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------
Voldermort lounged casually upon his throne, picking his teeth with the bone of what had been a particularly tasty Hippogriff. It was not the right Hippogriff, the one that Wormtail told him had ferried that confounded Sirius Black to safety and supposed freedom, but it had been a tasty Hippogriff all the same. He burped unceremoniously, but it was an evil burp, and therefore it was good.
The world was a good place.
Now that pissed Voldermort off. As far as he was concerned, the world was not supposed to be a good place. It was supposed to be bad. Badder than bad. It was supposed to be one whole heap of bad with him on top of it as the Lord of Bad. Voldermort picked feverishly at his teeth. His thoughts were always incoherent after a particularly good meal.
It was because good did not go with bad, Voldermort decided. To be perfectly bad, one had to completely cut oneself off from anything good. If that meant ingesting large quantities of flobberworms, then, by God, he would do so.
Hang on, Voldermort didn't believe in God.
But that wasn't the point. Voldermort reached out and picked up the bell that stood upon his side table, giving it a little tinkle. Immediately, Wormtail appeared.
"What can this humble servant do for you, my master, my lord, my all powerful top dog?"
"Round up the Death Eaters. I've got a plan."
"My lord, wouldn't it be faster if you just pointed your wand at my Dark Mark and caused me and my fellow minions searing, unbearable pain?" Wormtail asked, crawling forward (for he was at present on his knees) and offering his left arm for Voldermort's inspection. Voldermort curled his lip in revulsion. Clearly, Nott's spell to make Wormtail more useful had also succeeded in making him more revolting than ever. But Wormtail was right. The Dark Mark worked better than any other form of communication.
"BZZZT."
As Wormtail rolled about the floor in an ecstasy induced by pain and the pleasure of doing something to help his master, Voldermort inspected the tip of his wand with mild curiousity. That muggle he'd gotten Malfoy to kidnap really had known what he was doing. His wand now made all sorts of funky sounds when he used it. His favourite sound effect was the one that happened when he used the Cruciatus curse.
"Crucio!" He shouted just as someone apparated into his throne room. The girly shrieks of pain told him it was Avery. "Silencio!" As Avery's howling cut itself off abruptly, Voldermort sighed in satisfaction as Saruman's voice filled the room.
"TO WAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!!!"
Now that was a wizard. Pity about the Ents and the upstart race of Men. Muggles. One and the same through every dimension and time zone.
As his other Death Eaters began trickling in, Voldermort smirked at Avery's attempts to stop looking reproachful. It was really no use. Voldermort loved his special wand. It was a pity Wormtail had taken his orders so seriously. 'You're so brilliant you shouldn't be allowed to live.' was not supposed to be taken in that context. He waved his wand around again and watched as the men flinched, ducked and generally rolled around in an effort to stay out of range. He patted his wand fondly and settled back onto his throne, waiting for his men to finish hiding behind each other while looking at him warily.
"Two weeks. Two weeks I have been idle, and none of you has succeeded in bringing me Potter's head. In fact, none of you has actually succeeded in anything at all." Voldermort allowed his voice to become chilly.
"My lord, I caught you that Hippogriff..." MacNair murmured, nursing his hand. The Hippogriff had cost him two fingers.
"And it was good." Voldermort replied in a voice that implied that it was not. In fact, his voice did mean exactly that it was not. "Which is what I need to talk to you about."
"A good Hippogriff, master?" Crabbe asked, scratching his head. "What about a good Hippogriff?"
"Nothing, Crabbe, you infinitely backward creature." Voldermort contemplated performing the Cruciatus curse on Crabbe, just to hear Saruman's immensely fulfilling voice, but decided that it went against what he was trying to get at. "I want to talk to you about things which are good."
He swept off the throne, his long cloak billowing out behind him as he did so. His followers made a ring around him as he paced back and forth in their midst. A nervous, flinching ring.
"As you all know, we are committed to the cause of evil. We are on a crusade to demolish all that is good in this world. Are we not, Malfoy?" Voldermort paused and gave Malfoy his most slitty-eyed stare.
"We are, my lord." Malfoy replied steadily.
Voldermort grumbled inwardly. Malfoy was much too cool and collected. Weaker men would have quaked and required intensive treatment under that stare. "Then why, might I ask, are you living the good life?"
"I don't understand, my lord." Ah, a quiver. Excellent. Voldermort was pleased.
"Why, when we are committed to demolishing all that is good, do you live in a house that has good quality furniture, good quality food, and dress in clothes that make you look good?" Voldermort thought the last part of the question was really a no-brainer, but he did not care, as the question was rhetorical anyway. "My Death Eaters! Here, the root of our problem is revealed! We cannot truly be evil, we cannot succeed in being evil, for we still cling on to that which is good!"
While a ripple of confusion surged through the ring, Avery had the lack of sense to mutter, "That didn't make any sense."
"TO WAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!!!"
After the howling had died down, Voldermort resumed his seat upon his throne and sat surveying his Death Eaters. "Bad and good are two complete oppositions, as are black and white, yin and yang, free time and inspiration from muses. You cannot have one and the other together. Do you understand this?"
"Yes, yes my lord." Came the general reply.
"Therefore we must cut away every facet of our life which is good and subject ourselves to all that is bad, filthy, horrible, disgusting and vile."
"My lord, not filthy!" Malfoy ejaculated in horror.
"Yes, Malfoy, filthy." Voldermort thought he heard Malfoy's heart smashing into smithereens. "And don't forget bad dress sense."
Malfoy fainted at this point. Voldermort smirked. Even Archilles had his heel.
"Master, I will do whatever you wish. I will roll around in the sties of pigs. I will eat the uncooked larvae of Blast-ended Skrewts. I will wear nothing but a potato sack that is scratchy and unmerciful on skin such as mine. I will..."
The force of the Silencing Charm that Voldermort promptly cast on the groveling Wormtail was nothing compared to the unearthly wail of anguish that was the sound effect of his wand.
"Now, I want you all to return to your homes and purge yourselves of all that can be construed as good. Then I want you to think about an ultimate weapon. An ultimate weapon that can cause its victims pain upon pain, horror upon horror, anguish upon anguish, despair upon despair and so on and so forth. In a week, you will bring this to me." Voldermort looked intently at Crabbe and Goyle. "One week." He repeated. "Seven days."
"Yes, master." The Death Eaters murmured. Voldermort dismissed them with a flick of his wand, and one by one they began to disperse.
An ultimate weapon. Voldermort ran his fingers along his wand and smiled. Soon, he would take over the world.