Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter merchandise, books, characters, theme music, owls, parchment paper, peacock feather quills, or Honeyduke's chocolate. Trust me, Voldemort would be much eviler if I did… such a pity…

Well, everyone, this is my fist submission, so please don't kill me! I've worked hard on this one. I must warn you, however, that this fanfic is VERY OOC.

And now, on with the story!

Chapter 1

Voldemort leaned back in his chair and sighed. He would really have liked to have Wormtail there to make fun of and be cruel to, as well as to plot his murderous schemes against that dratted Harry Potter. However, Wormtail had been caught last night by one of the Ministry's Aurors, so the Dark Lord now had no one to plot evil things with.

He sat up slowly and wished that Lucius wasn't so busy. Keeping him away from the Ministry was hard, as he had a son at Hogwarts and as he had a huge mansion that was being closely watched to see if, once he'd escaped from Azkaban, he hid there. But if he was found, he could be forced to talk.

It was almost night. Voldemort had planned his first real outing alone for almost 17 years for tonight, and he planned to go either convince, subdue, or "Imperius" someone into joining him. He stood, picked up a dark black robe, and slipped it on. He glanced in the mirror, gazing at his unnaturally long, thin fingers and gleaming red eyes, with pupils like a cat's. He slipped the hood over his frightening face and exited his parents' old house. Luckily, the house was still ignored and avoided by most of the population, so he did this without notice.

He headed up the street, keeping in the half-lit sides of buildings. He smirked as a car, tearing down the one-way street, narrowly missed a large, ginger-colored cat with thick fur and bandy legs. It yowled at him as he passed, and he hissed, "Go away!" in Parsletongue.

As he sidled down the street, he suddenly wished longingly for a homemade orange cappuccino. He had had only one before, when he was a child, and he suddenly felt an urge for one. So he glided down the road, getting increasingly darker, staring at the windows so as to get an idea of who was not home.

He had barely been walking for a minute when he saw the perfect house- dark windows, no car, or even a bike. It looked like the house of someone who could make a cappuccino.

He snuck up the walkway, pulled out his wand, and muttered, "Alohamora." The lock in the door clicked, and he pushed the door open. His eyes glittered evilly as he closed the door with a snap and wandered through the house, turning on lights as he went.

The front door opened to the family room, with a large, soft couch in the far wall. It was ugly, and he blasted it with his wand, sniggering. He wandered down the hallway and came upon the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator, expecting to see hundreds of cooking ingredients, but instead only found cans of soda and a Mars Bar that looked about three million years old.

He closed the fridge door just as he began to hear a strange noise in the back of the house. He followed it down the hallway. Running into many pictures of snakes. One time, he ran into his own Dark Mark. He realised, as he looked back, that there was one right on the window in the family room.

He got to the end of the hallway, where he was finally able to tell what the sound was. It was music. My word, he thought, I haven't heard music in forever. He smiled as he remembered a song he had heard when it had first came out, a strange song called "Hampsterdance." It was the only song he had ever liked. This music was nice, too. It had a wonderful tune, and had even more wonderful lyrics. It seemed to be called "I Wish I Had An Evil Twin," and it was issuing from a small stereo by the small bed. Next to the stereo was a small glass of water, filled with ice. There were little droplets of water running down the sides, and he realized that the house was, in fact, occupied by someone other that himself.

He heard a tiny noise issuing from the closet to his right. He snuck up on the door, and very slowly began to turn the knob. There was a gasp from inside, and he couldn't quite tell what they were gasping in- fear? Excitement? Horror?

He couldn't wait any longer. He yanked the door open.

"VOLDIE!" a high shrill voice screamed. A small figure flew out of the closet, brown hair was flying everywhere, and the figure gave him an awfully big hug. "Oh, Mr. Voldemort, Sir, I've ALWAYS wanted to meet you! I'm gonna be the best Death Eater that you ever did see!" It looked up at is hideous face and grinned at him. "I'll even put the Imperius curse on myself and tell me to be eternally loyal to you!"

Voldemort just gaped at her. Even with his most devoted Death Eaters, he had never met such a reception. No one had ever hugged him. No one. EVER. Somewhere in his brain, a voice, his practical voice, said, "You can't put the Imperius curse on yourself. It wouldn't work. You'd be in suspended animation until someone could snap you out of it." Blearily, he repeated his thoughts out loud.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why he is the boss!" the young lady cried. "He is BRILLIANT!" She looked up adoringly at him, and chirped gleefully, "I'll just get my stuff and we'll get to your house! Or wherever you live," she added, looking down. "I admit that I've never actually seen you come out of any house." She ran out of the room. After a moment, he saw her in the window looking out at the back yard.

He sat smartly on the bed and began to think. His brain was having a furious battle with itself. He hoped no one ever found out about this, or he'd be in St. Mungo's before you could say "Morsmordre." One side of his brain was screaming, "NO NO NO NO NO!" like a little child would when it had been told to clean his room. "You can't use HER as a Death Eater," he shouted to himself, giving himself a headache, "because she's too hyper! She'll drive you insane!" However, the other side of his brain smiled and said, "I can certainly tell she wishes to help me. Enthusiasm is nice in a job application. If she doesn't want to help me take over the world, I'll eat my wand." He stood, and walked to the other side of the room. His brain having said this to itself, he repeated it out loud. "If she doesn't want to help me take over the world, I'll eat my wand."

"We wouldn't want that, now would we, Tommy-boy?" said a small voice from behind him. At this, his brain reeled, and he whirled around, expecting to scare her. It didn't work. She was grinning from ear to ear, and when he whirled to face her, he thought that if her smile were any wider, the whole top half would come off. "All right," he growled, "you're hired, but I'm going to have a trial run first. If you can't behave, you're out. If you prove yourself, you're a Death Eater."

"Whee!" she shrieked, giving him a bigger headache. "I'll be wonderful, Tommy-boy! You just wait!"

He stared at her, and then said in a dangerous growl, as if there was no choice, "Before we go, would you care to make me an orange cappuccino?"

She giggled. "Come on, Volders," she said, and led him to the kitchen.

Well, that's the first chapter. The song mentioned above, "I Wish I Had An Evil Twin," is a real song- one of my favorites of all time, in fact- performed by the Magnetic Fields, an alternative group that I recommend to everyone who has a dark sense of humor and/or loves romantic songs that discuss killing your wife. :-P By the way, for those of you who are Baudelaire fans, the head singer, Stephin Merritt, is also Lemony Snicket's best friend and he does all the music on the cassette tape recordings of the books as the Baudelaire Memorial Orchestra. Please R&R!