Lord Voldemort appeared in western Tennessee with a sharp crack. It echoed throughout the holler, bouncing off the tree lined edges round and round. He sniffed, looking around at the obviously juggle surroundings- the unkempt grass, ramshackle trailer and various rusted pieces of junk. He dearly wished to kill some filth, but the thought of the impending meeting called out more sweetly to his twisted mind.
Despite his cold heart, he couldn't help but admire the beautiful starkness of the blue mountains against the starry sky. He knew that was where the giants lived- and where he was headed. He had sent several envoys of trusted Death Eaters to convince them to join his cause, but their absence made it clear that they had not succeeded. As he prepared himself for apparition, he heard the barking of a mutt. Turning to the house, he saw a filthy yellow beast snarling at him from the porch. It would have been satisfying to kill it, proving that muggle security measures were useless, but he might need a lot of energy to take on the Giants. He turned away, the rustle of his cloak hiding the creak of the door as it opened.
A rough voice rang out, "who's there?"
Tom Riddle sneered and slowly turned to face the man. It was time to have some fun, Giants or no Giants.
"I am Lord Voldemort, muggle."
"who you calling muggle?" cried the old man, who Tom now saw held some sort of metal contraption under a ridiculous tartan looking jacket, "Say, get off my land. You have five seconds!"
Tom grinned wickedly and took a step forward.
"Five!"
Tom took another step.
"Four!"
He took another.
"Three!"
"Two! I'm warning yeh!"
Voldemort laughed, pulling out what appeared to be a long wooden stick.
"Last chance, mister."
Lord Voldemort let out a high, thin cackle, "What's a muggle like you going to do? I am Lord Voldemort."
The man adjusted the metal thing, "One!"
BOOM!
The noise shook the house, rattling the panes and echoing round the holler.
-—-
Thousands of miles away, across the Atlantic Ocean, a boy with green eyes and messy black hair reached up to his now calm scar.
His red haired friend was still dancing jubilantly around with a bushy haired brunette.
"we did it! The last horcrux, Harry!"
The girl cut in, "We can kill him now! He's not immortal!"
The raven haired boy shook his head in wonder, "He's already dead."
-
The man in the holler never told the story of the man he'd killed for trespassing- of his creepy cackle and long robes. His neighbors never heard about how he had no nose, or how his eyes were red. No, American wizards appeared minutes after and wiped his memory. So while the man woke up confused with a discharged shotgun on his porch, the magical community celebrated.