A hellish, screaming wail sounded above Malfoy Manor. The assembled Death Eaters looked up with vague interest as it grew ever louder; then, with a poof!, it abruptly ceased, and 118 pinecones rained down upon the Manor lawn.
Voldemort sneered. "Another Muggle trying to drop an ICBM on us," he said. "Why they keep thinking magic can't handle their military hardware, I'll never know."
"Shall I have Noddy go pick up the remains, My Lord?" said Lucius.
"Oh, no, let them grow," said Voldemort. "Then you can either fire them back at the Pentagon, or sell them for Christmas trees."
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, you'd have heard about it by now. (Ditto if I owned any ICBMs.)