Disclaimer: I don not own Harry Potter or Voldemort. Just the absolutely brilliant 2 a.m. idea XD


One evening, as the dark lord studied his surroundings, relishing in the screams and pleas as many people, muggles and wizards alike were killed before him, a strange thought crossed his mind. Why continue this fight? He knew that good almost always triumphed over evil, but he was giving it his best shot. The stress from leading an army of dark wizards would have given him grey hair...if he had any. It was also aging him ten times quicker...even though he couldn't exactly die. It wouldn't be too long before he attacked Hogwarts itself and put an end to Harry Potter. Then the world would be his.

'Or would it?' A little voice from the back of his mind spoke up. 'Why continue fighting? You're merely committing suicide. Why live life as the Dark Lord, when you can be something better?'

'And what would that be?' He mentally asked the voice. There was a long pause, as the voice drew out the silence.

'A llama.' Voldemort dismissed the voice immediately. 'Oh cmon, here me out.' The dark lord audibly groaned.

'Carry on.' He mentally replied, preparing for the worst.

'As a llama you don't have to be evil anymore. But if you have to, you can bully the other llamas. The war would be over. No more stress. No one would recognize you and you can live a peaceful life.' Voldemort was ready to permanently shut the voice up. 'There'd also be no more Bellatrix.' That got his attention.

'No more Bellatrix. Are you definitely sure of that?' He heard the voice hum in agreement. Voldemort grinned a malicious smile and brought out his...Dumbledore's wand. He heard Nagini slither by his side and he pat her head gently in farewell as he apparated away. A loud crack and he found himself in rolling green hills surrounded by llamas and other muggle livestock. Voldemort grinned once more and shouted a spell and he grimaced as he felt his body's structure warp. His body stretched out, his hands and feet grew hooves and his neck sprouted up. Voldemort looked down at the wand and stomped on it, snapping it and demolishing its remains. He turned to his fellow llamas and grinned the best he could in his new form. The war would be over. He would never be found. And he would never have to deal with Bellatrix and her annoyingly pitchy voice ever again. Life couldn't be better. Voldemort was a llama now. And he would be the best and stingiest llama there ever was.

The End