It's embarassing how little I own. Here we go...

To End All

'Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord ... you have no idea ... he has weapons you can't imagine…'

– Peter Pettigrew, "The Prisoner of Azkaban"

"Bring me the book."

"Master?" said Wormtail.

Without another word, Voldemort had his wand in his hand and brought it crashing down on Wormtail's head. It threw the small Death Eater to the floor, slamming his long, rat-like nose into the cold stones.

"There is a limit to how many times I'm willing to repeat myself." said the Dark Lord. "Do not seek to find it. It will mean your death, and I do not believe, Wormtail, that you have suddenly scraped up the courage to die." Almost immediately, Wormtail saw Voldemort's tongue flick, already preparing to deliver a curse. He scurried to his feet and fled the room. There was no sound from Voldemort, not even an icy chuckle.

Peter Pettigrew (for that was how he still thought of himself, when the Dark Lord wasn't close; when he was, he could hardly think at all, and accepted the title of Wormtail as the only one fitting) eventually found the book in the kitchen, next to the drinks' cabinet. The book got used often these days, much more so since those movies had come out. It was a big book, heavy, bound in what might have been leather or human skin. Peter had never actually seen a book bound in human skin, but touching this one, it was not hard at all to imagine no animal hides had gone into those covers.

Not hard at all.

Bellatrix was there, the arrogant dark bitch. She laughed at him and spilled Firewhiskey on his robes. It wasn't much, but it would be enough to leave a characteristic smell. It was no wonder the Death Eaters thought he was an alcoholic. He always did smell of the drink, though through no fault of his own.

The Death Eaters? You're one of them, he reminded himself. It was Bellatrix and her like that made it so hard to remember that he was actually a part of them. Sometimes, he felt like an unwanted outsider who'd gotten an undeserved ticket to examine the Death Eater grounds, and that they were just waiting 'till closing time so that they could shoo him home. In all actuality, only a minority of the Death Eaters had anything but quiet respect for the man who'd almost single-handedly raised their Lord back to power, but it was part of Peter's curse to see only those that didn't, those that mocked him secretly and in the open. The only man who realized all this was Voldemort himself, who knew all too well it was that blindness that had led Wormtail to him in the first place. The fear came later, much later.

he reminded himself. It was Bellatrix and her like that made it so hard to remember that he was actually a part of them. Sometimes, he felt like an unwanted outsider who'd gotten an undeserved ticket to examine the Death Eater grounds, and that they were just waiting 'till closing time so that they could shoo him home. In all actuality, only a minority of the Death Eaters had anything but quiet respect for the man who'd almost single-handedly raised their Lord back to power, but it was part of Peter's curse to see only those that didn't, those that mocked him secretly and in the open. The only man who realized all this was Voldemort himself, who knew all too well it was that blindness that had led Wormtail to him in the first place. The fear came later, much later.

He wished he could kill Bellatrix. He hated her enough; it would not be a question of will. Not of strength, either. Oh, he was certain a duel would end in his death, anyone who got out of a firefight with Dumbledore and lived to tell the tale was beyond his skills as a wizard…but then again, he would not need to outwizard her. After all, thanks to his Lord (and here, quite unconsciously, every finger in his silver right hand flexed itself eagerly), he was a little less than he had been…but also a little more. It wouldn't be hard. A single swipe, silver fingers cold as death wrapping themselves around her throat. No curses in a wand when the voice has no breath, and then he would only squeeze and squeeze, squeeze until there was no breath anymore and no air in her lungs, crush her until there was no crushing left in her. It would be silent and deadly, and all the Lestrange witches' curses would not help her an inch.

But, of course, he'd been down this road before, had thought it over and over, thinking how easy it'd be, how simple and failsafe…and yet he never did it. It was Lord Voldemort, of course. He could not kill Belatrix Lestrange because Lord Voldemort did not want her dead, did, in fact, like her very much alive. It was not a word that occurred to Peter, but he felt almost jealous of how much more Voldemort cared if Bellatrix lived or died than he did for his humble and always loyal servant Wormtail. Yes, he wanted to kill Bellatrix, it felt as if everything would be better if he just killed Bellatrix, but he couldn't. Because of Voldemort.

If Peter Pettigrew had wondered at this point just why he had resigned himself to such a life and why he kept denying himself happiness at Voldemort's whim, things might have been very different.

Instead, Wormtail picked up the book, and carried it to his master.

They all gathered, a flock of Death Eaters (or was is a murder of Death Eaters? The term seemed quite appropriate) as large as the room would allow. Voldemort put the book on the ground before him, still closed. Wormtail could not help but notice how close to the Dark Lord Bellatrix had taken her seat.

"For those of you not familiar with it, this is the single most powerful magical artifact in existance. It was recovered by Augustus Rookwood," and here the Dark Lord gave the former Ministry Spy a small nod, "during his stay at the Ministry of Magic."

"I don't think they even knew what they had." Rookwood said, grinning.

"If they had, you would have died retrieving it." came Voldemort's cold reply. "In fact, had they really known the true power of this book, they would most likely have destroyed it. It is just like weaklings to fear what they can not controll. Even I, when I first held it in my hands, did not fully comprehend it's implications. Now, however, I know that we have in our handa a weapon greater than any prophecy ever written, a force so great that Merlin himself could not oppose it."

"What's it called?" a call came from the back rows. Voldemort, without even looking in the direction, raised his wand and fired off a couple of Blasting Curses. All hit their mark, and there was a heavy thud as the offending Death Eater hit the ground.

"The next person to interrupt me will die." Voldemort said matter-of-factly. "The book, as I was saying before I was briefly interrupted, has been sought by many and seen by none.

It is the legendary Book of Sue."

There was a lengthy pause in which the Death Eaters digested this information.

"So we can make up any Sue we want? I'm asking, " Bellatrix said, not wanting to appear stupid, "because there's usually some sort of hidden drawback to items of that kind."

"Not to this. Our options are literally limitless." Voldemort said. His face twisted into a freakish sort of grin when he did, a grin that simply wasn't meant for his new, snakelike bone-structure. It revealed too many teeth, for starters.

"So we have your daughter, Morsmorditta Riddle, who's the most talented Death Eater-"

"There is no need for you to make one, Bella, though your effort is duly noted." Voldemort said, smiling again, and Wormtail sulked. If he'd said that, he would certainly have sucked the business end of a Cruciatus curse. "For the mission of drafting us the sue to ruin Potter forever, I have already recruited just the man for the job."

"Who?"

"Your brother, the world-famous writer Byron Black, of course. Who else could I have turned to for such a task?" Voldemort said, and now his grin was really wide.

"But I don't have a- Ooooohhh…" Bellatrix said, realization dawning upon her like the morning sun. "I love it, my Lord."

"Thank you, Bella. Now, Byron, the floor is yours." Voldemort said, and a new, young Death Eater stood up. He was dressed all in black, which, granted, is not saying much, given the fact that everybody present was wearing that exact same color, but it should be noted that in terms of dress he did not stand out at all. His hair was black, like a raven lost in a storm, cold wet winds tossing it to and fro to the dance of lightning. They could not see his eyes, as he was wearing sunglasses. This was odd, since the room was fairly dim, and the addition of the sunglasses should have rendered him quite blind. He did not seem to mind, though, so nobody made any comment to that effect.

"Thanks, Tommy." Byron Black said, to the amazement of all the present Death Eaters. While there were some who knew their Lord's given name was Tom Riddle, it was more than their lives were worth to call him that.

"He is American." Voldemort said in way of explanation. Some of the Death Eaters nodded knowingly. "Go on, Byron."

"Yeah. Anyway, it was pretty easy, when I thought about it the right way. I mean, we all know that a truly strong Sue's gotta be related to a pretty damn powerful Canon character. So I asked myself, who IS the single most powerful person in all of the world?"

"But Miss Lastrange," Rookwood said, not quite certain that was the proper honorific title, "already suggested that the Sue be made our Dark Lord's offspring. What name did you suggest again…?"

"Morsmorditta." Bellatrix said briefly.

"Oh, I thought about that, but then I realized it just wouldn't be enough. I needed someone stronger." Byron said, and suddenly every Death Eater was drawing his wand. Voldemort stopped them with an absent-minded wave of his hand, then gave them a wink that said let the fool talk, he will be disposed of later. "Now, I could have gone with the classic Harry's-Twin-Sister routine, but quite frankly, he's been getting quite used to them lately, so I didn't think it would have the desired effect. Then there were the assorted teachers, but they also failed to impress me, Snape in particular."

"It's Viktor Krum, isn't it. He knows the Dark Arts, so it would make a twisted sort of sense for his sister to be even more proficient." Bellatrix said.

"Ten points to Bellatryn for quick thinking, but no. Still not good enough." Byron said smugly, making Bellatrix roll her eyes at Voldemort, saying please, can I kill him?

No, the Dark Lord replied.

"Anyone else? No? Then I'll tell you…the most powerful person is none other than J.K. Rowling herself! So get this…we take her daughter, Jessica Rowling, and we send her to Hogwarts."

"But then it won't make sense to call her an American transfer student. I mean, she's from Scotland."

"Yes, exactly. She's always been at Hogwarts."

"Why haven't the books mentioned her, then?"

"Because…" Byron smiled an insanely wide smile, "…because J.K. Rowling doesn't want anyone her know that her daughter's a real witch, just like she is. It's her cover story for the Muggles who read the books that Hogwarts is just fiction! It's NOT! It's really real, and guess what…all the stories about how Harry Potter has thwarted you again and again aren't! Harry Potter is just a cover story for Jessica, who is actually the true Gryffindor seeker and the winner of the Triwizard Tournament, etcetera etcetera. While Harry does exist, he is just an ordinary student with no talents at all, and Jessica just attributes all her achievements TO HIM because it wouldn't do for Rowling to be writing about the adventures of her own daughter. It'd be too much like bragging, get it?

And here's the best part. This Sue is so horrible that she will drive Potter literally insane. Suddenly, he'll be a nobody, even though he'll remember everything he's ever done. And no one will believe him you ever killed his folks but didn't kill him as well, no one'll believe him he ever stood up to the Dark Lord, no one will believe anything he says because Jessica Rowling will be there to take all the glory that's to be had. And then, my man, then we just need to wait for him to snap."

"Snap?"

"Yeah, snap. See, everyone'll abandon him. Even his friends, whaddayacallem…"

"Weasly and Granger."

"Yeah, them. He'll be all alone. And what's a teenage boy do when he's been abandoned by all the world?"

"Slit-"

"Slit, slit, not across the road but down the street!" Byron shouted in a sing-song voice and cackled madly, all the time imitating a mime that was ripping up it's wrist with a saw.

"That's…" Wormtail gasped, at a loss for words.

"Yes." Voldemort said darkly. "The Sue to End All Sues."