Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters do not belong to me… So please, don't sue me… I'm just a poor child…
Author's Note: Vodemort's a cool character… ehem… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named… (thunder claps) Oops…^_^ Dearest daddy won't mind me saying his name… =} Please review folks!
"The flames are still burning—barely anyway. Wormtail's still out—the scoundrel! Doesn't he know that I need more tea?!"
I slowly get up, my body still aches with pain from what that miserable boy did to me. I wince as I limp over to the counter. Bending down, I hear Nagini's peaceful hissing. Sound asleep… I think to myself as I open the creaky and cobwebbed cabinet with my bony hands.
"Where's the TEA?!" I shriek, throwing out miscellaneous objects.
Flour, baking soda, cookies?! Vegetable oil, marshmallows, cookies?! Dog biscuits, crackers, cookies?! I shriek irritably while throwing out all the things I didn't want and need. I didn't understand why on earth Wormtail would keep such pathetic things in here… I told him a week ago to get food and things I could eat, not stare at!
Scowling, I dig through the pile of boxes and cartons, searching for the specific box, my box, and my tea.
"Aha!" I yell triumphantly, holding up the sacred box of green tea in the air. Nagini's hissing becomes an abrupt snort then the hissing continues.
Standing up, my feeble and weak and ugly fingers place my box onto the counter. Spotting a new teacup on the rack, I quickly get hold of it.
"I have to do everything myself." I grumble while pouring some water into the cup. "Everything…" I mutter while taking out my own wand. My yew wand, my 13-inch wand, my phoenix feather cored wand. I utter the words to heat up the water in the cup.
I open the box of green tea and take out one of the packets. Sniffing it, I feel a bit relaxed in a way. Then, I plop the little packet into the steaming water and dip it in and out repeatedly until the water becomes darker and turns into tea.
"No magic can replace good green tea." I smile to myself while bringing the cup over to the moth-eaten chair.
Sighing, the tea tastes good when you're alone. Nagini's hissing stopped and faded away. I heard the coils of the serpent slithering out quietly. She doesn't like to disturb me that much.
My stomach lurches a bit as the hot drink hits it squarely. It feels invigorating, like the magic that swims inside of me. It feels like… some power that overwhelms me with its unnatural behavior and uniqueness. It's like… me…
The greenish flames flicker and glow eerily in the dark room. Wormtail hasn't fixed up much yet. He's always apologizing. I can't spend all my days here in this rotten old house. I've spent my worthless childhood—if you call it a childhood—right here…
Ah, I breathe. The calming scent of the tea fills me only temporarily. It's a pleasant thought to breathe in herbs that were crushed with care… I sigh softly while watching the flames flicker and crackle.
Imagine this: I, now wretched and virtually dying, used to be the most powerful evil wizard that ever walked the face of the earth. I, now bickering, used to be strong and swift. I, now on my knees filled with pain, used to be laughing at those I've put in pain. I, now ugly and deformed, used to be faceless and immortal. I, now forced into hiding, used to walk into crowded streets where the people would scream and cry out for help and stay miles away from me. I, now huddled in layers upon layers of holed blankets, used to be flying in splendid gold-trimmed black velvet robes. I, now the master of nothing, used to be the Master of that age, the age of Lord Voldemort.
And in between my now and then, a little baby boy by the name of Harry James Potter, defeated me in less than a minute.
I smirk at myself at the thoughts. I remember those that I killed, mostly screaming to have mercy or too much in pain to scream at all. Those bloodied corpses decorated my lawns. Those skilled minds dropped dead in front of me. Those that wavered, quickly bowed down to me.
Sipping the tea again, I sigh. Those were the good old days when I was at least happy. Those were the good old days when I was respected truly and feared rightfully. Those were the days when I filled my cup of revenge with the blood of my victims and followers. Those were the best days of my whole cursed life.
I virtually had everything I wanted and needed. Everything except for the head of Albus Dumbledore. I can't believe that old sloth is still alive! I could easily kill him now, not like before. He wasted too much of his energy trying to get rid of my Death Eaters. He wasted too much energy at that school.
It was a pity though. Dumbledore had a lot in him… (sipping my tea) he had the honor and quality I liked and enjoyed. He just, was on the goody-goody side and I was on the bad. A terrible pity though… he could've learned more and enjoyed more. He could've learned the simple spell of keeping oneself look younger and healthier. He could've known the ways of actually being young and healthy. He could've been my 'brother'.
Thinking of the sudden, strange thought, I shake my head. Dumbledore? My brother?! I'd rather die! I laugh heartily then stop, a fit of coughing overcoming me.
"Damnit!" I swear, putting the teacup onto the floor to keep it safe. After the terrible fit, I wipe away the spots of blood on my hands and on my lips. I pick up the teacup again and take a nice, long sip.
Dumbledore… that name always makes me feel uneasy.
Of course it does, Voldemort! It's your archenemy!
Looking at it another way, even if I'm virtually dying here, I can still regain more energy. The old sloth can't since he's too old. He's only trying to cheer everyone else up.
Pouting, I take another sip from my tea, watching it drain away. I scowl. Wormtail better be here soon or I'll chop off his wormtail myself!"
Looking at it another way, if Wormtail doesn't come back, I can just go to Lucius. His son won't like me around but Lucius won't tell his sinister little brat. Actually, the young lad isn't so bad. He's in Hogwarts and he's just about the same age as Mr. Potter. I'm sure Lucius would be delighted to train his son! Wormtail won't do me any good anymore, anyway.
I sip my tea thoughtfully, considering whether I should stay with Lucius Malfoy or with another Death Eater. Either that, just stay with Wormtail even though he's a worthless idiot. Lucius has some bad points though… he's always a coward… Wormtail's just the same but… he's useful sometimes. Especially when you need a bit of servant's blood to get you going…
I chuckle softly, remembering Wormtail squiggle and squirm on the floor, his arm terribly bleeding. He'll pay me back for what I gave him. What he gave me isn't enough for that new arm of his. He's a stupid fool. He'll never learn.
"Master?" a soft, stifled whimper came from behind the door.
"What?" I hissed.
"I'm back… I got 13 packs of green tea. They're your favorite kind too." Wormtail came in, clutching his dirty cloak in his normal arm and the grocery bag in his other, special arm.
"Very good, Wormtail." I reply, satisfied.
"I'll set them on the counter." He said and I heard the noise of the paper crunching and crumpling. Then I heard the cabinet creak open and I heard a pause. I guessed he found the supplies were a bit… violently reacted to… I smirked to myself.
"M—master?" Wormtail stammered.
"What now?" I enjoyed making people nervous.
"W—what happened to—"
"Your cookies?" I finished. The pathetic servant nodded. "I tasted them… they tasted horrible!" I sipped my tea. I could hear some silence for a while. "I burned them earlier…" more silence… "You'll be rewarded later on." Even more silence.
"Y—yes m—master…" Wormtail finally replied and continued to place the green tea boxes in the cabinet.
"Wormtail?" I called.
"Master?"
"Get me more tea…"
FINI.
