"I sometimes inhabited animals-snakes, of course, being my preference-but I was little better off inside than as pure spirit, for their bodies were ill adapted to perform magic…and my possession of them shortened their lives; none of them lasted long…" –Voldemort, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Chapter 33, "The Death Eaters"
Author's Note: A little humorous drabble in which Voldemort struggles to exist in the body of a snake. A certain Muggle woman, however, doesn't care much for snakes; and Voldemort doesn't stand a chance against her. Not to be taken too seriously. This was written just for a little bit of fun.
It really was a good thing that Voldemort had his Horcruxes because he really had the rottenest of luck. First, he had lost his body to an infant boy, all because some filthy Mudblood woman had insisted on sacrificing herself for that infant boy.
But more recently, Voldemort had suffered at the hands of a filthy Muggle woman.
It had all began so innocently. Voldemort, who had currently been possessing the body of a snake, had been slithering in a garden.
That garden, unfortunately, had not been empty. There had been a Muggle woman and her baby daughter in the garden.
The Muggle woman had been working in the garden. A shovel had been nearby.
The baby girl had been in a car seat on the ground, not far from her mother's watchful eyes.
The Muggle woman had spotted Voldemort and had promptly shrieked in fright. That had amused Voldemort. What had happened next, however, had been anything but amusing.
The Muggle woman had grabbed the nearby shovel and had stomped over to Voldemort. Then, the Muggle woman had begun to hit Voldemort repeatedly with the shovel.
Voldemort, of course, could not die.
But the snake could.
Which it did.
And now Voldemort found himself having to look for another body to possess.
Voldemort really did have the rottenest of luck when it came to Mudbloods and Muggles. Was it really a surprise, then, that he wanted to rid the world of them? They were nothing but torture to him.
Later that day, Mr. Granger returned home from work. Both he and his wife were dentists, but currently his wife was still staying at home on maternity leave.
Mr. Granger kissed his wife and spent several minutes fussing over his baby daughter Hermione.
As the Grangers were eating dinner, Mr. Granger asked his wife how her day had went.
"It went very well," Mrs. Granger answered, "except for the snake."
"What snake?" Mr. Granger asked in alarm. He knew how afraid his wife was of snakes.
"There's no need to worry, dear," Mrs. Granger reassured her husband. "I had a shovel with me, like I always do whenever I work in the garden. I took care of the snake."
Mr. Granger sighed in relief. His wife then prompted him to tell her about his day, which had definitely been a lot less eventful than hers.
Voldemort had quickly and easily found another snake to possess, but that didn't stop him from feeling angry and humiliated.
He hated Mudbloods and Muggles. They were the source of all his troubles.
It would take several more years, however, for Voldemort to learn the truth. Mudbloods and Muggles weren't really his problem.
No, it would turn out that Voldemort's real problem was women in general, regardless of their blood.
Enter Narcissa Malfoy.
Exit Lord Voldemort.