Snape leaned against the warm spot by the fireplace, with a sinking sense of déjà vu. Back again, celebrating the Dark Lord's birthday. Oh, how I love the Dark Lord's parties, he thought, dodging Unforgivables and those relentless Black sisters. At least I don't have to watch for mistletoe.

Snape surveyed the room, wishing for the night to end. Gone were the pathetic tree and the oversized Christmas stocking. Instead, a large shiny disco ball hung from the ceiling, with loud music blaring from the wireless, and giant streamers that read "Happy Birthday Dark Lord!" and "Voldemort Rules!" The table was piled with food, punch, and presents. Hmm, thought Snape, no cake. Didn't he give that job to Narcissa?

It was common knowledge among the Death Eaters that Narcissa was not only a terrible cook; she was a dangerous one. The last time she'd tried to cook anything, she'd set her kitchen on fire. It was only Lucius' quick actions that had saved their house. Since then, she'd been forbidden to set foot inside her kitchen unless it was to tell a house elf something. Given that fact, Snape found it distinctly odd that the Dark Lord had insisted Narcissa be the one to bake his birthday cake. Probably more punishment for Lucius' incompetence at the Department of Mysteries fiasco last summer.

Snape eyed the pile of presents, picking out his gift, wrapped in green paper with a silver ribbon. It was a Dark Mark carved from green jade that had eaten up three months' salary. He'd better like it. I could've bought lots of lovely books with that money.

Wormtail, hoping to prevent a repetition of last week, had rushed out the first day after Christmas that the shops opened back up, and purchased a present. It was wrapped in shiny blue paper, on top of the stack of gifts. Wormtail himself had been drafted into kitchen service (again), and was rushing to and fro between the kitchen and the table.

Lord Voldemort swirled by. "Great party, eh, Severus?" he asked, as he danced with Bellatrix, who smirked at Snape. Did I just see one of those silly birthday hats on him? Yes, I did. It must be the eggnog.

Narcissa walked up to Snape. "Dance?"

"I'd rather drink poison. In fact, I believe I am. Excuse me, I need to go and have a word with Wormtail in the kitchen," said Snape, turning away, leaving Narcissa pouting by the table. Snape walked into the kitchen, and returned a few moments later. Narcissa still stood by the table, drinking some of the vile punch Snape had recently complained about.

"Don't you have to bake a cake or something? Set fire to the oven, or explode pots and pans? Cause havoc and mayhem?" Snape asked Narcissa.

She smiled evilly. "The cake is taken care of. But I let Wormtail put the candles on—he was pouting so."

Yes, I saw that. In fact, I "helped" him out, only he doesn't know it.

"Cake? Who said cake? I want my birthday cake!" Voldemort had swirled back by, and overheard their conversation.

"Of course, my Lord! Let me go get it!" Narcissa raced into the kitchen. She reappeared moments later, with a large cake that she set on the table. Everyone looked at it, impressed. The icing was swirled artistically; it had dark ribbons along the sides, and what appeared to be marzipan Dark Marks on top. Candles ringed the outside of the cake. Voldemort eyed the candles. He appeared to be counting them.

"Did you put the candles on, Narcissa?" Voldemort asked, dangerously.

"Well, I let Wormtail do the candles."

"WORMTAIL! Get out here!" Wormtail raced out of the kitchen, red and sweaty.

"Y-yes, my Lord? Is there a problem?"

"Can you count, little rat? Do you not know my age? I am NOT SIXTY-FOUR!"

"My Lord! I counted, I promise I did!" Wormtail was shaking.

Snape quietly tucked the box of extra candles deeper in to his hidden pocket. Time for another round of Wormtail Crucio…

Several minutes later, Voldemort turned back to his cake. He cut himself a large slice, and tasted it. He looked at Narcissa.

"Who made the cake, Narcissa? You certainly didn't." Narcissa looked down at the floor. "I kidnapped someone to make it for me."

"Really? Who?" Everyone was looking at Narcissa with interest.

"Martha Stewart."

"The Martha Stewart made my birthday cake?"

"Yes, my Lord. I had to use the Imperius Curse on her, but she did make it."

"Let me get this straight. You kidnapped a famous Muggle and used an Unforgivable Curse on her, all to make me a birthday cake?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Narcissa, I don't know how to thank you. This is the best cake I've ever eaten." Voldemort was beaming at her. Narcissa looked at him.

"Could-you-get-Lucius-out-of-Azkaban-please?" she asked in one breath.

Voldemort looked at her. "Let me think about that--no. Lucius stays in prison. Nice try."

Narcissa fell at his feet, pleading. She got all teary-eyed, and looked up at him.

She's giving him the look that got me stuck in the Unbreakable Vow, Snape thought, let's see him say no to that!

"No!" Voldemort raised his wand at Narcissa, who squeaked, and ran to hide behind her sister.

"Hey! Don't hide behind me!" Bellatrix snarled. "You don't hear me whining about Rodolphus being stuck in Azkaban too!"

"Well, unlike you, I miss my husband." Bellatrix whirled around to face Narcissa.

"I do so miss my husband! I'm just not going to sit around and whine about how much I miss him, like you do! 'Oh, I miss Lucius so. Oh, I've not been kissed in months. Oh, I'm so lonely!' You sound like a pathetic Muggle romance book!"

Narcissa was well angry by now. "Well, at least Lucius kisses better that your husband!" she spat.

"How would you know?"

Suddenly, there was a blur as the sisters leapt at each other, pulling hair, scratching, and trying to bite each other. The other Death Eaters gathered around, shouting encouragement, and taking bets.

"Hmm. Avery, four galleons on Bella to win. What do you think, Severus? Fancy a bet?"

"No, thank you, my Lord. I think I'll just watch."

This is actually fun. Good cake, Wormtail got zapped, and now the sisters are scrapping.

After several minutes, Voldemort got bored, and hexed both sisters with his wand, sending them flying across the room in opposite directions.

"Well now," he said, "I think that's enough excitement. After all, this is my birthday party. Kiss and make up, now." The sisters moved towards each other.

"No, no, not each other." Voldemort smiled most evilly, his red eyes gleaming. "It's my birthday. Kiss me." Snape smirked as both sisters tried to hide their brief expressions of horror. Yes, things were definitely looking better and better…

In a dark corner near the fireplace, two small mice watched the proceedings with interest. One was small, with an oversized head and a calculating expression. The other was tall and thin, with an air of dottiness. "Yes," the small one said, "these 'magic' humans will do nicely for my plans. We shall start with the one they call 'Wormtail.'" It looked up at the taller mouse. "Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

"I think so, Brain," the taller one replied, "but Kevin Costner with an English accent? Besides, Brain, what are we going to do tonight?"

"The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to take over the world!"