Happy half term freaks! I was sitting around not doing much one day, thinking about what the Death Eaters feared most. Well, what is it? Some fics think it's black liqourice, some think it's Voldemort coming home and finding the garden a tip and his cyprus tree upturned. But I happen to think it is something much worse, something so evil that none of them will ever forget that terrible day. Read on to find out why...

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The Death Eaters do some babysitting

The Death Eaters were sitting in the living room playing cards. The recent failure of Lord Voldemort's record attempt had meant that he had tried to avoid cards at all costs. But he was bored, and so had to make do with playing snap with the others.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

"Curses!" Voldemort grumbled. "Wait there."

He stalked out of the room and over to the door. He flung it open, and stepped back in fright.

"Oh, Mrs Mallory!" Voldemort said, trying to sound pleased. Mrs Mallory was one of their neighbours. She was a very 'Aunt Petunia like' character, who always wanted to know what was going on, and loved nothing more than to poke her nose into other people's bussiness. "What brings you here?"

"Good morning Mr Riddle," she said briskly, causing Voldemort to wince. "Now I know that you and your friends are an odd bunch, but everyone else is either busy or too scared, so I have come to you to ask if you could possibly babysit my darling little Stewart this afternoon."

"Er, well," Voldemort stammered. "I'm not sure if..."

"Excellent," she said. "I'll be back around eight. And he better be good."

She pushed the little boy towards him. "Bye!" And she walked off down the garden path before Voldemort had time to protest.

He looked down at the little boy. He knew Stewart Mallory well, he was an innocent looking six year old boy. But he was a complete tearaway, and now Voldemort was stuck looking after him for eleven hours.

When he arrived back in the living room with a little muggle boy by his side, their expressions varied from ones of confusion to horror.

"We are going to be looking after this...sweet little chap until eight o' clock this evening," Voldemort said, forcing a grin. "His name is Steven Mallory and he's six years old."

"I'll be seven in October," the little boy piped up. "And my name isn't Steven. It's Stewart."

"Right whatever," Voldemort replied. "Death Eater meeting!"

He and the others gathered around the table in the middle of the room.

"My lord," Dolohov said. "Why are we looking after Stewart Mallory?"

"Because," Voldemort replied. "We need to keep our cover in this neighbourhood. That boys mother is the nosiest person in the area. She has seen everything remotely odd going on in this house. Such as the large number of owls, Wormtail zooming up the garden path in a trolley, and a certain large blue police box on the front lawn." He glared at Barty. "But anyway, if Stewart tells his mother that anything strange has happened to him then we'll be found out! We have to act like muggles."

"Well how hard can it be to look after a six year old boy?" Rodolphus asked.

And, right on cue, Stewart knocked one of Voldemort's porcelain puppy ornaments off the shelf.

"NOOOOO!" Voldemort cried, diving for it, but it was too late, the puppy collided with the floor and smashed into tiny pieces.

"Uh oh..." Dolohov said.

"GET HIM!" Voldemort yelled, and soon, the Death Eaters were running around the house after the little boy. They gathered back in the living room ten minutes later.

"Who's got him?" Voldemort asked. Everyone looked at each other. Nobody had. "Right," he continued. "A six year old from hell is somewhere in this house. Your mission, which you WILL except is to find and retrieve him without magic."

"But how?" Lucius asked. "We'll never find him together."

"Then we'll have to split up," Voldemort gulped. "All of us. This house is so big he could be anywhere. Now get going."

The Death Eaters stepped out of the door and went their separate ways. Public enemy number one, Stewart Mallory, was somewhere inside this house, and they had to find him.

Rodolphus crept up the stairs and along the landing. His heartwas beating fast. He coudn't hear or see any sign of the other Death Eaters, let alone Stewart Mallory, and yet as he crept along the various passageways and staircases, he couldn't help but feel as though he was being watched.

"St-Stewart?" He asked nervously. "I'm not scared you know."

Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him getting faster and faster. He spun around.

"AAARRRGGGHHH!"

The scream rang through the house. All of the Death Eaters shook in fear as they heard it.

Lucius was scanning the kitchen. Little kids loved sugary snacks. Stewart was bound to descend on it eventually.

He hid under the table and lay in wait, net in hand for Stewarts appearance.

The house was silent. The only sound Lucius could hear was his own breathing. Wait. There was another sound. Footsteps.

Lucius's heart began to beat faster as someone walked into the kitchen and reached for the cookie jar.

"Gotcha!" Lucius yelled as he leapt out from under the table and threw a net over his victim. A few seconds later and he realised the mistake he had made.

"Malfoy get this thing off me NOW!" Lord Voldemort yelled.

"I'm sorry my Lord!" Lucius cried, fumbling with the net. "I thought you were Stewart!"

Voldmeort threw the net off and glared at his minion.

"I just wanted a cookie!" Voldemort scowled.

"Did you hear Rodolphus scream eariler?" Lucius asked, handing him a cookie. Voldemort nodded.

"Come on," he said. "We have to find him."

They walked out of the kitchen cautiously, and suddenly there was a yell from the dining room.

"Barty!" They said together and rushed into the room, just in time to see a blur of six year old boy zooming out of the door cackling evilly.

Lucius and Voldemort peered nervously into the room. Barty was hanging upside down by his ankles, suspended from the ceiling.

"That kid's a natural," he grumbled.

Voldemort and Lucius ran out of the room after Stewart.

"I'll just wait here then," Barty said.

"He went that way! Quick!" Voldemort cried as he and Lucius stumbled up the stairs and ran along the corridor.

Stewart ran as fast as he could, closely persued by Voldemort and Lucius.

"In there!" Voldemort cried as Stewart dove into Lucius's room. They rushed in. Stewart was standing beside Lucius's shoe cupboard. He opened the door, jumped inside and, with a heart stopping crash, the shoes came tumbling down in a massive mountain outside the door. Stewart appeared from it, grinnign evilly. However his expression turned to one of terror as Lucius glared at him furiously.

"Those were my shoes," he said in a dangerously quiet voice.

"Uh oh, you've blown it now," Voldemort said to Stewart who was cowering in the corner before Lucius leapt at him with a blood curdling scream.

xxx

Voldemort and Lucius gathered all the Death Eaters in the living room. Two were missing. They found Rodolphus cowering in a broom cupboard and Barty still suspended from the ceiling. When they had finally all arrived, they tied Stewart to a chair and sat down, glaring at him.

"You are not a normal child," Voldemort said. "You are an evil demon boy, but you WILL stay in that chair until 8 o' clock." Stewart nodded meekly.

"Now suprisingly," Voldemort continued. "I have better things to do with my time than watch little kids, so I will make my minions watch you in turn. Wormtail! You first!"

xxx

There was silence. Wormtail sat in the armchair, trying to look anywhere except at Stewart, who was fixing him with a motionless, unblinking glare. Wormtail gripped the arms of the chair harder. He was fully aware of the small beads of sweat on his forehead as Stewart glared harder.

"Stop it!" squeaked Wormtail. "Stop it now!"

But Stewart just glared even more. Wormtail squeaked and ran out of the room.

"Bellatrix!" He yelled. "Your go!"

Bellatrix walked into the room, strode across it and sat down casually in the chair and began filing her nails without giving Stewart a second glance. He glared and glared but to no avail. Bellatrix just ignored him and carried on filing her nails. She glanced at him after a few minutes and saw him glaring at her.

"There's no use looking at me like that darling," she said. "You can't scare me."

And she resumed to filing her nails.

Stewart stopped glaring and thought. A small chipped piece of china from Voldemort's porcelain puppy was lying on the arm of his chair. If he could just reach it...

Stewart wriggled one of his hands free, and, with careful aim, flicked it in the direction of Bellatrix. It hit her nail file which went spinning out of control and chipped one of her nails. Bellatrix gave a scream of fright.

"NO!" She cried. "YEARS OF TLC AND NOW THIS!" She stood up, and ran out of the room shrieking. Barty was standing outside.

"You better get in that room Crouch," she said. "And you better do it NOW!"

"OK, OK," Barty said. "Calm down, it's just a nail."

"Just a nail," Bellatrix said, turning around slowly, and glaring at him with one of those looks that would make any other Death Eater cower in fright. Barty just raised an eyebrow in mild amusement as Bellatrix ranted.

"TWO YEARS I WORKED ON THESE THINGS!" She continued. "THROUGH AZKABAN AND EVERYTHING! BUT OF COURSE YOU COULDN'T KNOW ABOUT THAT. YOU WERE OUT OF THERE THANKS TO YOUR DARLING PRECIOUS MOTHER."

Barty stiffened. Not many things annoyed him. Wormtail was one, but another thing that really ticked him off was people talking about his dearly departed mother just like Bellatrix was now.

"Don't," he said through gritted teeth, beginning to draw his wand. "Talk. About. My mother."

"Aw, little mummy's boy are we?" Bellatrix sneered.

Barty snapped.

He drew out his wand and aimed a curse at Bellatrix. She blocked it wandlessly, then drew out her own wand and fired back.

At that point, the rest of the Death Eaters ran into view, and stared in astonishment. Thank Slytherin the living room door was closed.

"WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" Voldemort yelled at them. They dropped their wands at once and started shouting.

"He started it!"

"No she started it!"

"He was mean about my nail!"

"She talked about my mother!"

"Oh no, not his mother," Dolohov winced.

"Look I don't care what happened," Voldemort said. "Lestrange, you get up to your room, Crouch, you get in there and pray that the little brat didn't hear anything."

With one last murderous glare at each other, the two Death Eaters walked off. Barty slammed the door behind him.

Stewart looked around. Barty grinned evilly at him, and he glared back.

Instead of sitting in the chair like the others had done, Barty walked slowly over to Stewarts chair and paced around it, looking at the little boy.

"That was quite a stunt you pulled on me," Barty said, breaking the awkward silence. "Couldn't have done it better myself. Well, actually, I could, and I would have done it without all of the little errors that yours had."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stewart said.

"A real practical joker would have realised the terrible flaw in your execution of it," The Death Eater replied. "Even you know that the rope was a little off target, I didn't go nearly high enough in the air."

He walked over to the chair and flopped into it, facing the boy.

"I add my own touches to my jokes," Stewart said. "I'm not an old fashioned wannabe like you."

Barty raised his eyebrows slightly at this comment. He had to admit, this kid was just like him. Except for the whole wizard thing.

He suddenly, looked at the clock. It was 8 o' clock pm! At that moment the doorbell rang. he quickly untied Stewart, grabbed him firmly by his shoulder and walked him out of the room. Voldemort grabbed the boy and ushered him towards the door. He flung it opened and saw Mrs Mallory on the other side.

"Hello Tom," she said before Voldemort could speak. "I trust Stewart had a good time."

"He had a great time," Voldemort replied as Stewart walked out of the door. "Didn't you." He glared at him.

Stewart nodded.

"Excellent," she said. "Well thank you very much Mr Riddle. I will see you soon."

Voldemort closed the door with a last wave and gave a sigh of relief. He was gone.

xxx

The next morning, Voldemort picked up the telephone. It was Mrs Mallory.

"Hello Mr Riddle," she said. "I just wanted to call again to thank you for looking after my darling little boy yesterday. Stewart told me about what a wonderful time he had, and he'd love to come again soon. Of course, if that's all right with you."

"Yes, yes of course," Voldemort rpelied. "Anyway, I must dash. Bye!"

"I'll call later and schedule a visit tomorrow then!" Mrs Mallory said as Voldemort slammed down the phone. The minute it was out of his hands he couldn't hold it in any more:

"NNNOOOOOOO!"

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Nyah ha ha ha ha!

Yo dudes. I hope you enjoyed that, I know I did. (Evil smirk.) I'll update as soon as I can. You better review or I will come over to your house and eat your cheeldren.