It was the most glorious sight they had ever seen in their lives. Voldemort's eyes actually filled with tears as he beheld it: a large sign in front of a store, reading, "Tents 'R' Us." All the male Death Eaters ran after Voldemort into the store, shouting ecstatically as the women stood wondering what the big deal was.

The men emerged minutes later, all looking extremely satisfied. However, none of them were carrying anything. The women were puzzled; why would they rush into a store like that if they weren't going to buy anything? That question was answered when Wormtail trudged out the door after all the rest, struggling with an armload of large shopping bags.

Once all the tents were safely packed away (by Wormtail alone), the Death Eaters happily set off yet again.


They were riding along a desolate highway in the middle of nowhere, when Voldemort abruptly stopped. The Death Eaters almost crashed, for he had parked his bike in the middle of the road.

"We have a problem, my friends," he said in a rather dramatic fashion.

"Oh, My Lord, what is it? What's wrong?" Bellatrix asked frantically.

"Lord Voldemort must empty his dark bladder, and I am sad to say that there is no water closet nearby."

Snape sighed. "Why not just go behind that tree over there, My Lord?"

"Severus, that is SICK! What kind of person do you think I am?"

"But, My Lord, that's what bikers do. It's part of the whole 'freedom' thing, or whatever."

"Well…alright." He reluctantly dismounted his bike and approached the tree, and then stood behind it for minutes without doing anything.

He sighed. "Bella, I can't go with you watching."

Bellatrix gave him an encouraging pat on the back. "Sure you can! Just try!"

"You know, I believe I can wait…."

"Aww…." Bellatrix pouted, but returned to her bike.

They took off again, riding a bit faster this time. After what seemed to Voldemort like an eternity, a small building appeared on the horizon.

"Finally!" Voldemort sighed in relief and sped up a bit. They were there within minutes.

A ragged-looking sign revealed the name of the place: "The Flaming Hog." The building itself looked as if it had seen better days, as did the motorcycles already parked out front. The parking lot consisted of nothing but dirt, which coated the wheels of the Death Eaters' motorcycles as they pulled in.

The inside of the bar was much worse. It was dimly lit, but the dirt covering the floor, the tables, even the drinking glasses, was still plain to see. And the smell…well, Rodolphus actually fainted because of it. At least fifteen terrifying, humongous bikers all stared with bewilderment and fury at the tiny, pale, noseless man in a leather jacket now standing in the doorway.

"Oh my," said Voldemort, not fearfully, but with simple curiosity. "What a quaint little pub!" He now spoke loudly, in a voice that had always instilled fear in his servants and pronounced him to be a figure of great authority: "Greetings, my fellow motor bicycling brethren! I am the Dark Lord Voldemort, feared above all in the wizarding world, and you all are subject to my every desire! Anyone who dares question me will have my Purple Roadmonkeys to answer to. My first request is that you grant me access to your loo."

The bikers' eyes widened with astonishment. All were still.

"…Now!" said the Dark Lord, for he was not accustomed to waiting for what he wanted.

The largest of the most intimidating bikers stepped forward with rage in his dark eyes. "Who…do…you…think…you…are?" he grunted, breathing heavily in his fury.

"Why, good sir, I believe I just told you! Are you deaf, or are you simply unintelligent?"

The biker threw a punch, knocking Voldemort backward and leaving him with a bloody…um…space where his nose had been.

"You have made forceful physical contact with the Dark Lord!" he shouted. "That is not acceptable!"

"Oh, Voldypoo!" cried Bellatrix, rushing to his side. "Your beautiful slits are bleeding!"

Voldemort wiped the blood off his face and stood up. "It's all right, Bella, it's only a flesh wound…."

"No! You're hurt!" She was sobbing hysterically.

"Bella, please, you're embarrassing me in front of my motor bicycling brethren!"

The aforementioned "motor bicycling brethren" were now in a fit of laughter.

"Oh, did we upset your lady friend?" taunted the largest man, causing the other bikers to burst out laughing even harder.

But their amusement was over the moment they saw the murderous look on Bellatrix's face. She stared them down, her fists clenched and almost hyperventilating.

"No…one…hurts…my…VOLDYPOO!"

She grabbed a bottle and struck it hard against a nearby table, but it failed to break. She tried again, but to no avail. Giving up, she tossed the plastic Pepsi bottle aside and picked up a glass one. Beer and broken glass flew in all directions as the bottle shattered in half against the wooden table. This was clearly going to get ugly.

But then Wormtail stepped between Bellatrix and the biker. "Alright, everyone…let's all be cool, OK?" He approached the biker, looking smooth and confident. "Yo, dude." He lifted up his sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark. "Check the pimpin' tat!"

Wormtail looked utterly shocked when he was thrown across the room, as if he was unable to comprehend how his brilliant attempt at looking cool could have possibly failed. Every Death Eater in the bar was regretting leaving their wands behind, and they were terrified at the thought of what Bellatrix could be getting them into.

She was still shaking with anger as she slowly advanced on the humongous biker, who was staring intensely at her as if ready for a fight.

Suddenly, the door was opened. All heads turned toward the source of the voice that now echoed throughout the room. "Now, Cousin Bubba, you know better than ta go off causin' trouble! Besides, these here are mah friends! Leave 'em be!"

Voldemort couldn't believe what he was seeing. There was a very familiar man standing in the doorway, his dirty blonde hair frazzled just as it had always been. He wore a leather jacket and a trucker cap. "Earl?" asked Voldemort, astonished.

"Howdy thar, No Nose," replied the man with a wink.

Voldemort had met Earl, an overly friendly hillbilly, on his most recent beach trip. It was because of Earl, in fact, that the Dark Lord went grizzly wrestling (and it would be a great understatement to say that that did not go well). Although he had befriended this country bumpkin, Voldemort wished with all his heart to never see him again…a wish that, clearly, wasn't meant to come true. Everyone remembered Earl and his incredibly large family; Bellatrix dropped the broken bottle, too shocked to feel angry anymore.

The biker took a step backward. "I'm sorry, Cousin Earl. I didn't know."

"That's arright, cuz." Earl turned to Voldemort. "Y'all can leave now. Come along with me."

"Well, um…," stuttered Wormtail. "I…I think first, my master needs to visit the, um, loo…."

"No," replied a much shaken Voldemort. "Not anymore."

They all gladly followed Earl out of the bar, and what they found in the parking lot astonished them. There were at least twenty hillbillies waving cheerily at them from their old, shabby-looking motorcycles. They wore bandanas and leather jackets, and they all looked exceedingly pleased to see the Death Eaters.

"Oh wow," said Voldemort awkwardly. "Earl, you have a motor bicycling gang?"

Earl laughed haughtily. "Is that what cha call it, No Nose?"

"Well, of course!"

"You haven't changed a bit…but, yeah, I got me a gang. We're ac-shully purdy ruh-spec-tuh-bul round these parts. That big feller in thuh bar? Well, folks like him know not ta mess with me or mah fam'ly here!"

A chubby woman with heavy makeup and a blond beehive hairdo jumped up and down with excitement and shouted happily. "Bell! Hey, Bell! Lookie here! Hey!"

Oh no, thought Bellatrix. Lord Voldemort wasn't the only one who had made "friends" last year. "Er…Hi, Luann…," she mumbled half-heartedly.

Luann rushed up to Bellatrix and embraced her tightly. "How've ya been, Bell? Oh, I missed ya so much! We had so much fun last year. Ya know yer mah best friend, and it just gets so lonely at tha shack, with no one ta talk to but mah twenty-one kids and all them cuzzins a mine. Oh, it's great ta see ya!" She babbled on and on.

Oh, what did I do to deserve this? Bellatrix wondered. Was it that postcard I stole from the souvenir shop? Or maybe it was all those people I killed….

"…and, oh, it's just no fun shoppin' without no friends," continued Luann. "Hey, I like them ear-rangs ya got on, Bell. I reckon pink would look better on ya, but, y'know…black skulls are arright, too. 'Member when I pierced yer ears fur ya last year?"

"Of course I do…." She very clearly remembered being chased down and forcefully stabbed in both ears. But, she had to admit, the black skulls were rather menacing….

"So how've ya been likin' yer new pierced ears?"

"Oh, it's been great…and it only took a few months for the painful infection to go away…."

"Well, that's great!" She gasped. "Oh…mah…garsh! Bell, I just done had the best ideer!"

"Did you now?" This couldn't be good.

"Why doncha come back ta thuh shack with all a us and spend a week er two?"

"No, I can't!"

"Well why doncha ask ol' No Nose just ta make sure?"

"Oh, fine…. Hey, Voldypoo?"

"…Yes?" squeaked Voldemort, who was currently trapped in a suffocating hug by a large, sweaty relative of Earl's.

"Um, Luann just invited me to stay at their house for a while…but I can't go, can I?" She tried desperately to convey in her tone just how miserable she would be if the offer were accepted, and there was a pleading look in her eyes.

"Actually," replied Voldemort with a smirk, having finally broken free of the hillbilly's grasp, "I think it's a splendid idea!"

"But, My Lord," pleaded Bellatrix, raising her voice, "are you sure there isn't some reason I can't go?" She gave a wink.

He grinned evilly. "Nope."

Bellatrix pouted and sulked back over to Luann. How did he not get the point? she thought miserably. I thought I was being pretty obvious!

"Well, No Nose," said Earl regretfully, "it's been great seein' ya, but we better get goin' buh-fore we miss supper! It's a right shame we can't hang out more, huh?"

"Yes…it's terrible."

"Well, maybe next time!" He hopped on his bike. "See y'all later!"

Voldemort sighed with relief. "Goodbye, Earl!"

"And don't worry—we'll take great care of Bell!"

"You do that."

Bellatrix waved gloomily from her bike. She had never looked more miserable in her life.

As they sped off, Voldemort skipped happily to his own bike. "I suppose we should all set off as well. This is the best holiday ever!"