AN: This is a companion piece to my other story, The Story of Lord Voldemort. It's better if you read that first. They're basically the same, only this one has a bit more details so it wasn't able to enter the Crack or Serious Competiton the other have.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
The Dark Lord was furious. Months of careful planning have all gone down the drain. He would never know the entire prophecy. Eleven of the twelve Death Eaters he sent on that mission have been sent to prison. That little Harry Potter brat has found a way to keep him out of his mind. And what was the worst, the Wizarding World has been alerted to his presence. All in all, Lord Voldemort was not a happy camper.
After torturing Pettigrew a few minutes to lower his stress levels, he apparated to the Malfoy Manor and helped himself to some elf wine in Lucius' liquor cabinet, unaware it had been spiked by a certain vengeful House Elf a long time ago. Sitting down on a rather ornate chair, Voldemort thought over his options. The best of the best of his warriors were currently having their souls sucked out of them. Even if he did break them out, it would be weeks, or months before they would be fully functional again. And to break them out, he would require more people and he would have to train them beforehand…
Voldemort sighed. All this take-over-the-world-business was hard. Setbacks everywhere. Maybe he was just not meant for this… He set down the wine and went for a walk on the grounds. That thought had shaken him greatly. He was the Lord Voldemort! Flight of death! Nightmare of muggles and mudbloods everywhere! But the more he thought about it, the less did his dream of ruling the world sound appealing. Why in the name of Merlin's left toenail would he want to rule to a bunch of stupid inbreeds who would probably die out in a few generations anyway? And remind him once again, why was he so eager to kill all the Muggles? They had no say in his way of life whatsoever, why care about them? As far as he was concerned, they were no damage and he only allowed raids on Muggle homes knowing it would placate folk like Malfoys or Macnairs.
The more he thought about this, the more assured he became in his decision. It was as if a higher deity had some sort of control above him. Or not. No one could ever hope to control the Dark Lord. The thought itself was ridiculous. Voldemort was his own ruler. But to be honest, he didn't enjoy being a Dark Lord anymore. Not with a very heavy heart, he decided to retire as Lord Voldemort.
Now that he made his decision, he had only one problem. What to do with his spare time? Up until now, he spent all his time trying to be the master puppet of the world, or thwarting plans the Light had cooked up. What would he do? Go work for the Ministry perhaps? No, that wouldn't do. He was a wanted man, he couldn't just show up at their doorstep and ask for a job, they would have him convicted or killed before you could say 'Slytherin'. Or simply keep a low profile? Not possible either, he was relying rather heavily on the vaults of his followers and they were all incarcerated at the moment. He wouldn't be able to lie low for a longer period of time. No, the Wizarding World was out of question. That only left the Muggle world.
To be honest, he did know a bit about the world, after all, he lived there for ten years. There were also a number of things he secretly missed in his first years of Hogwarts, like pens. It was a bit messy, sure, but ten times less than quill and ink. And heavens, did he love a good Broadway show. His favourite was always Beauty and the Beast. Not because of love, of course, but because of the witch. The enchantress must have been very powerful, transfiguring the man into a Beast, while making sure he could transform back on his own, but only when he were the man she wanted him to be. Truly Slytherin of her. Voldemort would never admit it, of course, but part of the reason he wanted to be as great as possible was because of her.
And sometimes, when particularly lonely, he even hummed 'Be My Guest' when no one was listening. Everyone thought he was weird as it was, he didn't need more taunts. Good old times. It was always his dream to participate in such an event… At that moment it was as if a curtain was pulled and his eyes had seen light. So why didn't he? He was Lord Voldemort, he could do anything!
He was in New York the next second. Shielding his eyes against the light, he took a stroll in the Big Apple. The more he walked, the more astonished he had become. The city was incredible, awesome, unbelievable and just about every praising adjective he could think of. The local folks had given him a few strange looks, but he paid them no mind. Instead, he began looking for the theatre that would play his favourite musical. He got lucky in maybe twenty minutes. This was it. He would finally see his favourite play with his own eyes. Entering the building, he used a sleeping spell on people that were wandering around and used a Supersensory Charm on himself, so he could locate singing/talking people easier.
When he found what he was looking for, he took a moment to appreciate the beautiful costumes the actors were wearing. The girl had a simple but pretty dress, but there were also a candelabra, a teapot and… Wait a minute, they were about to sing Be My Guest, weren't they? Excited like a little child, Voldemort watched as various household items were trying to cheer poor Belle up a bit. It was this performance that cemented his future. Britain be damned, he was about to make a splash over the big pond in the theatre world.
And he did. Clumsy and unattractive at first, he struggled to get job offers, but after a few rituals and potions altering his dancing abilities and his appearance – he never said he was going to give up his magic abilities, did he? – he soon became a rising star and people were begging him to perform for them. Tom Riddle was also offered to star on the silver screen more than once, but he had stuck with his musical roots. Beauty and the Beast was his one and only love, and he was not going to two-time her, not even for a rather large sum of money. He didn't need it, to be honest. He never wondered just how Britain coped without him; New York was all he ever needed.
"And that is how Dobby the House Elf banished Voldemort from Britain," Justin Finch-Fletchley finished the lecture. "Any questions?" There weren't any, probably because the students were laughing too hard to register what he had said. Man, he loved teaching this particular titbit of history. Good thing that Hermione Granger exorcised old Binns the second she got the chance and Hogwarts hired him as the new History of Magic teacher, else they would still be learning about goblin rebellions. Justin was slowly beginning to mind the laughter, but he didn't attempt to stop it, knowing it was pretty much useless. Finally, finally, the class had calmed down and little Madeleine Greengrass raised a hand. Allowing her to speak, she said, "You're not pulling our legs? A house elf got rid of the Dark Lord? With a prank potion no less?"
"Not a prank potion per se, Miss Greengrass," said Justin. "The potion in question was designed to plant the thought of leaving the magic altogether in the drinker. It was only our luck that Voldemort chose to act on it. It is still speculated why exactly did he choose the path he did." Justin's lips twitched. "But considering he was half-blood and before he knew he was a wizard, he had some exposure to the Muggle world, we assume it must have been his dream as a child to…" Justin took a break, schooling his features into some resemblance of calm. "…to pursue the career he did." He couldn't handle it anymore. He snorted so loud it surprised even him. Merlin be damned, he thought he wouldn't laugh anymore after five years of teaching, but apparently not. "Okay, class dismissed," he said, waiting until the last of his charges left and proceeded to laugh so hard his belly hurt. A lot. Oh, if they knew he was still performing and that Justin personally went to Broadway to see it with his own eyes. Actually, some did. It was still a popular tourist destination for British witches and wizards wanting to see their ex-tormentor dressed as a candelabra and singing songs about serving dinner.
Still laughing, Justin left the class room.