What brought this on? Thinking about Epiphone bass guitars.
Voldemort looked up from the thronelike chair where he held court in the Riddle House. There was an almost palpable sense of power in the air. "What is that?"
A recent American recruit ran out the door to investigate. He'd only come at his tribe's bidding, to see what Voldemort offered, and what he in turn demanded as payment. If Voldemort could attract their services, they would be powerful against Dumbledore and his cronies.
"I-I don't know, Master," Pettigrew simpered.
Though tempted to throw some Cruciatus curses at the rat, Voldemort held his fire. Pettigrew acted near-brain-damaged at times already.
The American recruit came back in, face pale. "You've angered nature, Lord Voldemort. My people and I will not work with you."
With a pop, the tanned native American left.
Riddle stormed out the door to see what Dumbledore had cooked up to try and slow him down. He knew it was not the Ministry. He also knew that it would likely not be lethal, given how his old teacher thought.
"Sweet mother of God," one death eater blasphemed when they got out the door.
The sky was black with heavy cloud, lightning arcing inside it. In the near distance, thick bolts struck the ground repeatedly. A harsh keening screeched from the sky, and the most massive bird any of them had ever seen dropped through the cloud cover, larger than even the New Zealand Haast's Eagle a hundredfold.
"A thunderbird?" Voldemort roared.
Though insane, he was also not stupid. "To the basement! NOW!"
A few of the stupider Death Eaters tried to apparate out. The energy in the air disrupted their magic, and they merely reappeared in place, moaning and clutching at stumps where limbs had splinched to where they had wanted to go. The smell of cooking meat rose from what a muggle physician would have recognised as electrical burns.
The enraged force of nature struck repeatedly at the Riddle House with talons, beak, but predominantly through lightning strike. In the end, after it left, Voldemort had to dig himself out of the rubble on top of his basement, and half of the Death Eaters with him had to bury the other half. Even so, massive burns and punctures from the electrical damage littered them profusely.
To add insult to injury, Dumbledore was later approached by the very tribe that Voldemort had been courting.