Miles away from all of this evil, terror, doughnut crumbs and human-originated vegetables, the Potter family sat comfortably on the couch in front of their living room fire, watching Muggle television and keeping an eye on their one-year-old son, Harry. Harry threw the toy wand he was holding a resentful look. Who needed a wand that did nothing but emit bubbles, shoot sparks and squirt warm milk, when inches away from him, in both his parents' belts were wands that could turn coffee tables into elephants, clear blocked drainpipes and conjure gigantic teddy bears that gave poor, tuneless excuses for the national anthem when you cuddle them? Harry had made several attempts to snatch one of these real wands all evening, but kept getting caught, due to the fact that every time his hand touched a wand, it started whistling like a cheerful Sneakoscope.
A loud rap on the front door made two of the Potters jump and one of them drop his wand, which began spraying the room with warm milk. Harry stuck his tongue out at his wand, and it desisted.
James Potter, meanwhile, opened the front door. The figure standing in the doorway was concealed by shadows, but James had a pretty clear idea of who it was.
"Lily!" he called to his wife, sarcasm growing in his voice. "Guess who's taken the trouble to pay us a visit on a stormy Halloween night."
"Hagrid?" Lily Potter called back from the living room. "Albus?"
"No," replied James, in mock disappointment. "It's only Voldie."
"What?"
Lily Apparated next to James, clutching Harry tightly.
"The name," came the cold, high voice of someone tall, thin, bony, deadly serious, shrewd and cunning from the doorway. "is Voldemort. Lord Voldemort. However, you shall address me as..."
But Lily cut him across, shrill and panicky "What are you doing here at this time of night? And on Halloween of all nights?"
Voldemort opened his mouth to answer, but James interrupted him.
"Oh, Lily, isn't it obvious?" he replied, smiling at her. "What does anyone do at this time of night on Halloween? Voldie's trick or treating! Just don't outgrow some thing, eh, Voldie?"
"It's Voldemort," snapped Voldemort, sounding distinctly disgruntled.
"Well, I think we've got some stuff we can spare for an overgrown baby like yourself, eh, Lily?" James gave her a meaningful wink and nodded towards the kitchen. "You know - something we've saved especially....."
"Oh, right," grinned Lily, catching on. She Disapparated and reappeared with a sackful of what looked like glue-covered rocks.
"There you go, Voldie," grinned James, handing him the sack.
"The name is Voldemort!" shouted the man who was unfortunate enough to own that ugly name. "Vol-de-mort! V- O- D - L - E - hang on, that can't be right..." He clenched his fists in fury and took a steadying breath. He would have calmed down had Harry not chosen that precise moment to yell "Troll-a-goat!"
Voldemort took a deep breath then hopped up and down, spitting with rage. "CAN'T ANYONE GET MY NAME RIGHT????!"
"Nope," replied James. "And apparently, you can't either."
At this, the Dark Lord resembled a red-faced, bony Pogo stick screaming like a baby Mandrake and throwing a tremendous tantrum, reminded James and Lily of their one-year-old nephew, Dudley. James took advantage of Voldemort's childish and highly exaggerated display of all-too-short nerves to shout over the cacophony "Why don't you try some of this fantastic - er - food we've brought you, Voldie?", and rammed one of the super-glue coated pebbles in his guest's already open mouth.
"Yes, nice, aren't they?" smiled Lily, as Voldemort's now suddenly closed mouth emitted the crunching noises of shattering teeth and his eyes began to water. "Generously donated by our good pal, Rubeus Hagrid."
Voldemort would have thrown another tantrum had he been able to free his jaws and what remained of his teeth from the tangle of solid brick, cement and baking soda which was currently melting the roof of his mouth. He let out some desperate squeals as he tried fruitlessly to speak. He pulled out his wand and tried levering his mouth open with it.
No one was aware that Harry had taken full advantage of the chaos to make his first successful grab for a real wand which was now clenched tightly in his tiny fist. He muttered some words in the language he was most fluent in - Gibberish - and was as surprised as anyone when a jet of red sparks shot out of it, hit the funny man in the doorway who sounded like a see-saw in desperate need of oiling 's wand, and sent it flying into then nearest tree - as far as Harry was concerned "Expelliarmus" meant "there's a Grindylow in the fridge." Voldemort ran after his wand, and James, before slamming the door yelled "Enjoy the grub! Do (not) visit again!"
Voldemort, as he retrieved his squeaking and spluttering wand from the treetop it was sitting in which wasted no time in shooting out of his hand and hitting him in the eye, learned an important lesson that day - wands and Whomping willows don't mix!
A/N This story isn't turning out as well as the others I've written. I'll probably continue it anyway, but I'd still really appreciate reviews. Oh, and nothing nasty, please.