I'm not sure if I'll actually keep going with this fic. Just to warn anyone who even remotely cares. But anyway, right now it's just serving the purpose of amusing me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or One Ring to Rule Them All…. Hehehe.

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"Well…. I thought they'd hide somewhere better than this…." Voldemort said slowly.

"My lord, you must remember that half-bloods and blood-traitors have very poor taste—obviously," Wormtail explained, thinking quickly.

"I can't believe that you thought you needed to clarify that! Idiot!" The Dark Lord screamed.

A light in the house in front of them flicked on.

"See what you've done, Worm? Now they're awake! What am I going to do now, hmm? Look them in the face when I kill them?"

"Master, if you'd followed my suggestion and taken the Tums before we left you wouldn't be feeling quite so squeamish—"

"Are you implying that I, the Dark Lord Voldemort, am squeamish?" He hissed, grabbing Wormtail by the throat.

Wormtail shook his head furiously, what was it with his throat today anyway?

"Good." The Dark Lord dropped his henchman—if you could call him that, he's more like male companionship if you wish to think such censor-worthy thoughts—unceremoniously on the street.

Voldemort swept up the short walk to the front door, his cloak billowing like any true bad guy's cloak should.

He muttered something and the door swung open, creaking slightly. He stalked into the first room, a bedroom? No, a disgustingly clean sitting room. Something fell to the ground in the next room, making a terrific crash.

Voldemort tiptoed cautiously to the doorway. Then screamed like a little girl.

On the other side of the doorway, Vernon Dursley screamed too.

Then crumpled down dead.

The ever imperturbable Dark Lord regained his composure and looked down wide-eyed at the fat man at his feet.

"Ok then…. That saves me some time. Potter's put on some weight though. Very unattractive."

Voldemort went back into stalking mode. He crept over to the stairs, glanced up quickly and then snuck up them carefully.

Once upstairs he heard voices. A high-pitched, nasal one and a whiny, kind of squeaky one.

The nasal one was crooning, but it was so out of tune that it was hard to listen to for long. Maybe that's why the squeaky one was crying….

"Oh, my little dud-ers, hush-a-by! Who's a cute likkle baby? My baby dud-y-poo, that's who! Now stop crying, dud-y, you know how it makes daddy angry. You don't want him to come in here with his big shotgun again, do you?"

The Dark Lord stopped, appalled. Apparently, parenthood didn't exactly agree with Potter.

Voldemort rolled his eyes; he would be doing the world a favor by killing the Potters.

He sighed and then ran into the bedroom.

And screamed.

Again.

Standing in front of him was a gangly woman with an extremely long face. She was holding what looked to be the world's fattest baby to date.

Voldemort blinked. Whoever had said that Lily Potter was pretty and that Harry was an adorable little squirt needed their eyes checked—soon. Either that or medication.

Oh, well. He could deal with that demented freak later.

He raised his wand and in one breath killed who he thought was Lily. He turned to the baby and again raised his wand.

The Dark Lord hesitated; who was he to deprive the world of a Guinness-worthy baby?

Even he, the Dark Lord Voldemort, had to admit that no matter how revolting it was to see a baby that size, it had to be a world record.

So, he turned around and left the house.

Once outside, he found Wormtail, who was serenading a stray tabby cat.

"Worm? What the heck are you doing?" He asked his ahem male companionship.

"Hmm? Oh you're back. Sorry," Wormtail muttered. "So, what're we going to do now, master?"

"Gosh! You have to pay attention when we're in the meetings, Worm!"

With that Voldemort stepped out into the deserted street and did what any witch or wizard who needed a ride did. He stuck out his right arm.

"You're summoning the Knight Bus?" Wormtail asked, horrified at the thought of what seemed eminent capture.

"Yes, the Knight Bus. It should be here any second now."

The Knight Bus came alright. It appeared right where the Dark Lord had been standing moments before. Now he was simply laying there.

A middle-aged man wearing glasses stepped out of the bus and began speaking.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Ernie Prang, and I will be your conductor this eve—"

The conductor stopped unexpectedly. He looked inquiringly at Wormtail, who was staring aghast at the base of the bus. Ernie followed Wormtail's gaze curiously and then gaped as he saw an arm sticking out from under the bus.

"Cor, Ed, look't this! You land'd smack on top o' some bloke!"

Wormtail however, was in a state of deep despair.

"What's wrong wit' you?" Ernie asked cautiously, seeing the look of utter misery on Wormtail's face.

"You idiot! You've killed the Dark Lord!"

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Well, that was interesting.

Please review, it might help me pay for the therapy I obviously in need of.

luv, veggies