Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for the plot.

Summary: Voldemort has finally killed Harry and has gained immortality. Next on his to do list is to take over the Muggle world. How will he accomplish this, well read and find out.

Note: Any mention of the seventh book comes from my imagination. Any coincidence that it does come true, well, that just means I'm psychic.

The Random Careers of Voldemort

Chapter One: The German Ice Cream Man of Hell

Voldemort grinned evilly and said, "You know, I've always wanted to be an ice cream man ever since the orphanage."

Lucius fixed Voldemort's red polka-dotted bow tie. The Dark Lord smoothed out his shirt and picked a piece of lint from his pants. He gazed longingly at the ice cream truck in front of him, especially since Draco had given it a new paint job.

The writing on the truck now read: 'Uncle Voldie's Special Ice Cream.' In the background was a painting of the Dark Mark. The skull and the snake coming out of its mouth were elegantly painted. It almost brought tears to Voldemort's eyes.

"I never knew Draco was such an artist," commented Voldemort.

"Come to think of it, neither did I," replied Lucius.

Now, imagine everything going all fuzzy for a flashback. . .

Draco was standing outside the ice cream truck with a can of paint and a brush. He dropped it in disgust. He called for their house elf Twinkie Hostess MilkyWay KitKat Snickers Twix Hersheys Kiss, but they just called her Penny.

Penny came running up to him, grabbing his leg in a big hug. "What you need, Master?"

"Paint this truck. I'm going to torture a few Muggles."

The fuzziness came back for the end of the flashback.

Lucius and Voldemort blinked in complete unison. "Did you see that?" asked the Dark Lord.

Lucius shook his head. The last thing he wanted was the most evil and powerful wizard to think he was crazy.

"Anyway, wish me luck. I'm off to start a whole new adventure."

"Break a leg," said Lucius as Voldemort climbed into the driver's seat.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Break a leg?"

"It's a Muggle expression. It means good luck."

"Oh."

Voldemort made a quick check in the freezer. All the ice cream was accounted for. He shivered. The thermostat read 50 degrees. Who knew ice cream trucks were so cold? He turned the dial to 80 degrees and strapped himself in.

"Now, how am I supposed to drive this thing?" he asked himself, staring at all the buttons and dials and levers.

He found a manual underneath his seat. His red eyes skimmed the page quickly. He had a knack for memorization. He threw the book on the passenger's seat and threw the car into reverse.

Now, let's take a quick look at the manual. It read: 'German for Dummies.'

His first stop was Privet Drive. It took at least two hours to get there because he kept putting his foot on the gas pedal, and a second later on the brake. He was stopped several times by the police, which mysteriously forgot that they needed to give him a ticket for blocking traffic.

"Pop goes the weasel. . ." sang Voldemort. His eye twitched. That song was driving him crazy. After this was over, he was going to hunt down the man that created this song. If he was already dead, he was going to hunt down any descendants.

The truck lurched forward, causing Voldemort to bang his head against the windshield. A faint chuckling was heard outside. It was an abnormally large boy. He almost mistook him for a baby whale.

Voldemort stuck his head out the window, after hitting his head on that too. He forgot to roll the windows down.

"Can I help you?" asked the Dark Lord in such a sweet voice that even made cute, little baby bunnies vomit.

His face contorted into a smile that made the fat boy's fingernail's curl.

"You sell ice cream right?" asked the boy, suspiciously. No, this boy did not run after seeing Voldemort's red eyes, or his slits for a nose, or after seeing his demented smile. This boy was either very brave, or very stupid. The latter applies to this situation.

"Yes, what kind would you like?"

This was it! His first customer. After the first dozen or so children ran away screaming, he was getting impatient, very impatient. If only dear old Mum and Dad were still alive to see this.

"Alright, give me two scoops of rocky road with one scoop of strawberry above it and underneath it on a chocolate dipped cone. Oh, and put some nuts, sprinkles, and whipped cream."

Voldemort nodded and disappeared into the back.

He dropped to his knees. Everything had melted, causing a flood. He stuck his hand in the sticky liquid to search for a cone and a scooper thing. He never did figure out what the scooper things were called.

He had to roll his sleeves to his elbows to be able to find anything. He picked up a soggy cone and tried to fine the rocky road and strawberry ice cream.

Well, he found them. . .

He handed the fat boy his ice cream. The boy looked at it with disgust. The cone was filled to the top with a strange brown liquid with swirls of pink. A few sprinkles floated across the top with nuts.

"What in the bloody hell is this? And where's the whipped cream?"

"The whipped cream exploded on my face when I tried putting it on," explained Voldemort as he wiped white stuff off his face.

"I'm not paying for this!" yelled the boy. He squeezed his hand, but it was the hand holding the cone. It sprayed onto his face. He licked whatever remnants of ice cream around his mouth and continued on frowning. His face was adorned with sprinkles, nuts, chunks of cone, and a dripping mass of ice cream.

Voldemort was very angry now. "You are going to pay, or else!"

"Or else what?"

The Dark Lord pulled out his wand and proceeded to point it at him, until he heard an ear splitting shriek.

"Duddykins, what are you doing?" shrieked a woman with a very long neck. "How many times have I told to never accept treats from strangers?"

"He's a bloody ice cream man, and I'm 17!"

She took one look at Voldemort and screamed. Very smart. She wrapped her bony arms around the fat boy and attempted to carry him away. With one labored gasp, she managed to pick him up and carry him inside house number 12.

Voldemort blinked.

"You know, I never knew she could be so strong," remarked Lucius.

"Were you there the whole time?" asked Voldemort.

"Maybe, by the way, you could have used a freezing charm or maybe have conjured up more ice cream."

"I told you I wanted to do things the Muggle way."

"Whatever you say, hey, can I drive?" Lucius asked.

"Yeah," replied Voldemort, moving over to the passenger seat.

He gave Lucius the manual.

"I don't need it. I already know how to drive."

The Dark Lord gave him an odd look. Since when did a Pure-Blood know how to drive a Muggle contraption?

Meanwhile, a certain Vernon Dursley was trying to revive his wife from underneath his fat son. He only succeeded in getting a twitch. Oh, and the fat boy refused to get up. He said no to moving from his comfortable position, and being the kind, caring father that Vernon is, he let him stay there, crushing Petunia. What a brat.

CrazyDreamerGirl: What will Voldemort's next career be? Well, you'll just have to review to find out. Oh, and Johnny is doing a bit better. Thank you for you concern.