A/N: I apologize in advance for the trash you are about to read, and for
taking so long to manufacture it. Thank you, and please don't throw up.
Chapter Three: Spawn of the Dark Lord --
What Voldemort saw made his insides shrivel. "His" house was pink, with a bright neon sign that said "Mr. and Mrs. Riddle's Happy Home!" There was a cutesy mailbox that looked as if it was inflated. Plastic pink flowers grew in front of the house. This was just wrong. He glanced at the sign again, Mrs. Riddle? As soon as he dared to think it, loud voices cried out!
"Hi Tommy, darling, honey-bear, sweetie-muffin pie!"
"DADDY!"
"DADDY!"
"DADDY!"
Twenty children rushed out of the small house, followed by a woman with bushy brown hair. She ran up to him and hugged him, while the children tugged on his sleeve. A happy smile crossed her face,
"It's times like this I am so glad I changed you from the evil creature you could've become if I hadn't gone back in time with a special timeturner given to me by King Dumbledore in the alternate future when I was best friends with Harry Potter. Oh, oops, I shouldn't of said that."
Voldemort's lip curled,
"King Dumbledore? Wait.Harry Potter?"
"Yes, the one I named all twenty children after."
"Twenty.children?"
Suddenly three of the boys ran up to Voldemort,
"Daddy, Daddy!"
He glanced at the face of the small boy. A Harry Potter replica. Even the girls looked like Harry Potter, except their hair was a bit longer, and their middle names were Amethyst Raindrop. He looks at all the children, they were all mini-Potters.
She smiled, "Aren't they cute? Oh, look who's here!"
Three huge, brightly-colored monstrosities with TV's in their stomachs (Teletubbies) bounced towards Voldemort.
"Want a flower, la la la la?"
He screamed as he tried to run, all previous "cool-guy" dispositions gone. He tripped over one of the Potter replicas, and the green-eyed child started to cry. He slapped the boy on the cheek,
"Shut-up you brat."
The whole town went silent, everyone looked at Voldemort. The little kid ran away back to his mother, who screamed loudly at her husband.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? YOU'RE GOING TO ANGER MANAGEMENT CLASS!"
Voldemort's fearful eyes dilated, he was suddenly there, for no reason at all. Something dawned on him, why was their an anger management class in the first place? He was the only one there, besides the twenty anger management teachers. What is it about the number twenty he wondered? The counselor stepped out of his office,
"Come right this way, Tommy. Your wonderful, beautiful, articulate, sophisticated, worthy, loving."
Voldemort stared at the red hair, this must be a Weasley. Twenty minutes later,
".caring, delicate, strong, wife, Hermione called. Step right this way."
Following the redheads lead, Voldemort entered his anger therapy class. Taking a seat, the torture began.
Chapter Three: Spawn of the Dark Lord --
What Voldemort saw made his insides shrivel. "His" house was pink, with a bright neon sign that said "Mr. and Mrs. Riddle's Happy Home!" There was a cutesy mailbox that looked as if it was inflated. Plastic pink flowers grew in front of the house. This was just wrong. He glanced at the sign again, Mrs. Riddle? As soon as he dared to think it, loud voices cried out!
"Hi Tommy, darling, honey-bear, sweetie-muffin pie!"
"DADDY!"
"DADDY!"
"DADDY!"
Twenty children rushed out of the small house, followed by a woman with bushy brown hair. She ran up to him and hugged him, while the children tugged on his sleeve. A happy smile crossed her face,
"It's times like this I am so glad I changed you from the evil creature you could've become if I hadn't gone back in time with a special timeturner given to me by King Dumbledore in the alternate future when I was best friends with Harry Potter. Oh, oops, I shouldn't of said that."
Voldemort's lip curled,
"King Dumbledore? Wait.Harry Potter?"
"Yes, the one I named all twenty children after."
"Twenty.children?"
Suddenly three of the boys ran up to Voldemort,
"Daddy, Daddy!"
He glanced at the face of the small boy. A Harry Potter replica. Even the girls looked like Harry Potter, except their hair was a bit longer, and their middle names were Amethyst Raindrop. He looks at all the children, they were all mini-Potters.
She smiled, "Aren't they cute? Oh, look who's here!"
Three huge, brightly-colored monstrosities with TV's in their stomachs (Teletubbies) bounced towards Voldemort.
"Want a flower, la la la la?"
He screamed as he tried to run, all previous "cool-guy" dispositions gone. He tripped over one of the Potter replicas, and the green-eyed child started to cry. He slapped the boy on the cheek,
"Shut-up you brat."
The whole town went silent, everyone looked at Voldemort. The little kid ran away back to his mother, who screamed loudly at her husband.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? YOU'RE GOING TO ANGER MANAGEMENT CLASS!"
Voldemort's fearful eyes dilated, he was suddenly there, for no reason at all. Something dawned on him, why was their an anger management class in the first place? He was the only one there, besides the twenty anger management teachers. What is it about the number twenty he wondered? The counselor stepped out of his office,
"Come right this way, Tommy. Your wonderful, beautiful, articulate, sophisticated, worthy, loving."
Voldemort stared at the red hair, this must be a Weasley. Twenty minutes later,
".caring, delicate, strong, wife, Hermione called. Step right this way."
Following the redheads lead, Voldemort entered his anger therapy class. Taking a seat, the torture began.