(Cackles.) This one's for my Great Aunts Gill and Suzie, the real life Constance and Florence.

And I would just like to mention that one of the lines in this is taken from Kim Possible, but I thought it was such a cool line. Doctor Drakken says it in the Mothers Day episode.

In addition to that, for those of you who occasionally watch Dennis the Menace, (The English version, not the American one), this chapter is inspired by the episode when Dennis's Great Aunts Fanny and Gertrude come to visit. I love that one. (Sniggers.)

You can tell I watch far too much TV.

And after those disclaimers, onwards and upwards!

----

The Death Eaters have visitors

"I don't believe this," Voldemort said, reading a letter that he had just got in the post. "I just don't believe it. This is terrible!"

"What's terrible, my Lord?" Wormtail asked.

"MY LIFE IS OVER!"

"Life is nothing but a black hole of misery leading us unknowingly into a mysterious world of inevitable death." Snape remarked. The others stared at him.

Voldemort sighed and banged his head on the table.

"My two Great Aunts, Aunt Florence and Aunt Constance, are visiting." He said mournfully.

"What's so bad about that?" Dolohov asked.

"You haven't met my Great Aunts," The dark lord moaned. "They are the most irritating people ever to walk the planet."

"Surely they're not that bad," Rodolphus said nervously. "Just a couple of little old ladies, right?"

"I say again," Voldemort said. "You have never met my Great Aunts. Whenever you go to see them, they just sit there, glaring at you for the entirety of your visit." He stared into space, and shuddered.

"So," Bellatrix said after a pause. "When are these Great Aunts from hell coming then?"

"It said in the letter, today," Voldemort turned paler than usual. "And they're staying for three days."

"Great."

The doorbell suddenly rang. Voldemort jumped and dived under the table.

"Oh no, it's them! Hide!"

They all hid under the dining table.

"Right," Voldemort said. "There is no way any of us must answer the door. We're all here, aren't we?"

The Death Eaters looked around.

"Yeah," Dolohov said. "No, wait, hang on, where's-"

"Barty!" Voldemort finished as he saw Barty walk down the stairs and head towards the door. "No!"

But Barty could not hear his master's frantic whispers, and instead opened the front door, and took a surprised step back.

Standing in the doorway were two women. They were wearing large hats with fruit on, and had matching stony glares on their faces.

They glanced Barty up and down, and then one spoke.

"I am Aunt Constance," said the one with grey hair tied back into a bun. "And this is Aunt Florence." She gestured to the one with red curly hair. "We have come to see little Tommy."

Barty stopped a smirk from creeping over his face.

"He's just in here," he said. "Please come in."

They walked into the house, and spotted Voldemort along with the rest of the Death Eaters hiding under the table.

"Tom, what are you doing under there?" Aunt Constance asked, bending down to look at her great nephew.

"Nothing, Aunty," Voldemort replied, scrambling to his feet.

"Are these your little friends we've heard so much about?" Aunt Florence said.

"Yes, Aunty," Voldemort said. "These are my friends."

They glanced disdainfully at the Death Eaters.

"Tom, you will now show us to our room," Aunt Constance said.

"Yes, certainly," Voldemort replied, and led his Great Aunts upstairs.

That evening, they were all gathered around the table, eating, Well, nearly everyone, Barty had muttered something about getting more pickles and had slipped out just before seven.

Great Aunt Constance and Florence had not actually touched their food yet, but were glancing around the table with very disdainful looks on their faces.

"Tom," Snapped Aunt Constance. "What have we told you about playing with your food?"

"My food is not a toy," Voldemort replied wearily. "It's for my tummy to enjoy."

The Death Eaters sniggered.

"And you," Aunt Florence said, shooting a glare at Rabastan. "No elbows on the table."

"Honestly," Aunt Constance sighed. "You don't know any manners at all, do you?"

"I think Tom's a bad influence on them," Florence added.

Voldemort was just about to speak, when they heard the front door fling wide open, and Barty came flying into the room like a whirlwind, and it seemed, to everyone's utter astonishment, that he was crying!

"Barty, are you all right?" Voldemort asked.

"Out of pickles?" Rabastan suggested.

Barty shot him such a dark look that Rabastan shut up at once.

But Dolohov was under the distinct impression that Barty had not been pickle shopping at all.

"You've been gone for nearly an hour," he said. "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere!" Barty shouted. "Everyone just leave me alone! My life is OVER!" And he ran out of the room and thundered up the stairs.

"If this has anything to do with that thing on the lawn," Voldemort said. "Or that muggle girl, there'll be hell to pay."

"Er, can I get down?" Dolohov asked.

Voldemort nodded and Dolohov left his plate and ran upstairs.

"Barty?" He asked, poking his head around Barty's bedroom door. Barty was lying face down on his bed, sobbing into his pillow.

"What happened?" Dolohov asked, sitting on the side of the bed.

"Nothing," Barty replied.

"I know you well enough to know that it isn't nothing," Dolohov smiled. "You can tell me, what is really the matter?"

"Oh my life is over!" Barty cried.

"Life is nothing but a black hole of misery leading us unknowingly into a mysterious world of inevitable death." Snape said, poking his head around the door.

"Go away," Dolohov glared, throwing a pillow at the door. Snape disappeared. He turned back to Barty. "Why's your life over then?"

"It's Rose," Barty replied. "The muggle girl."

"What about her?" Dolohov asked.

"She's GONE!" He cried, bursting into tears.

"Gone?"

"Yes, gone," Barty snapped.

"OK," Dolohov said slowly. "And, dare I ask, how exactly did it come about that she came to be in this state of... goneness?"

"She nearly got sucked into the void but then Pete took her into the parallel world, then I closed the gap so there wouldn't be any more dirty great holes ripped in the universe and now she's stuck with Mickey the idiot and I can't get back!"

"Well, er, that certainly explains a lot," Dolohov said. "You said you closed the gap or whatever? Can't you just open it again?"

"Don't point out the plot holes," Barty snapped.

"Fine, fine," Dolohov sighed. "Look, Voldemort's Great Aunts are tormenting everyone downstairs. Do you think you'll be OK?" Barty sniffed and nodded. "Come on then."

When they got downstairs, they both recieved extremely disdainful looks from Great Aunt Constance and Florence.

"It is very bad manners," Great Aunt Florence began. "To arrive at dinner late."

Barty shot them a murderous glare and sat down in between Dolohov and Rodolphus.

"Tom," Constance said suddenly. Voldemort shot her a look from his chair.

"It has come to my attention," she continued. "That you have only provided us with one fork, one spoon and one knife. Please explain yourself."

There was silence.

"You won't be needing the spoon," Lucius said cheerfully. "My sponge pudding went a little wrong..." He trailed off at the tight lipped expression he was getting from Great Aunt Constance.

"You must have more than one knife, fork and spoon," she said. "Did your mother teach you nothing, Tom?"

Voldemort suddenly looked very tense.

"No," he said irritably. "I can't say that she did."

"Oh of course not," Great Aunt Florence said quickly. "Constance," she whispered. "His mother is D-E-A-"

"I can spell you know!" Voldemort said sulkily.

"Honestly," Constance sighed. "We were brought up perfectly well. I was under the impression that Marvolo would have brought up his children very well, so your mother would have passed the ettiquette genes onto you."

"Er, Aunties," Voldemort said. "I'm awfully sorry to tell you this, but Marvolo did not turn out as well mannered as you two, and my mother and uncle didn't exactly either."

"Ridiculous," Florence said. "The Gaunts have always been polite and well mannered. Especially Morfin, he was the most well mannered of the lot."

Rodolphus suddenly broke into a very loud coughing fit.

"If you are to die, do it quietly and without any fuss," Constance said shortly to him. "Yes, Morfin was quite the little gentleman."

This comment started Rodolphus off coughing again.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Florence said. "What is wrong with you man?"

"I'm sorry," Rodolphus said, wiping tears of laughter away. "But, er, Morfin wasn't exactly the polite type."

"On the contrary," Great Aunt Constance sniffed. "He was always well mannered."

"Yeah," Dolohov sniggered. "If you count attatching various reptiles to his front door, then-"

"That was just an eccentric hobby," Florence said firmly, glancing at Dolohov as if he was a piece of dirt. "I always thought it added so much to the decour."

They couldn't help themselves, all the Death Eaters burst out laughing. Except for Voldemort, who looked very embarrassed, and, of course, his Great Aunts, who stood up simultaneously.

"If there is to be no pudding," Constance said stiffly. "Then we shall retire to our room."

And they left.

"This is going to be a nightmare," Voldemort said, burying his face in his hands.

The Death Eaters awoke the next morning to find the Great Aunts already awake and fully clothed in the kitchen.

Barty was the first to get up, and he went downstairs drowsily in his pyjamas, hoping to get some tea.

"OH!"

"AAARRGGHHH!"

"AARRGGHH!" Barty yelled, leaping out of his skin. He opened his eyes wide and saw Great Aunts Constance and Florence sitting at the breakfast table, fully clothed, and with expressions of horror on their faces.

"What?" Barty asked. "What happned?"

"My dear boy," Great Aunt Constance said, drawing out a fan and shielding her eyes. "A man must NEVER show himself in his nightwear to a lady."

"What?" Barty repeated, the poor guy very confused.

"It is simply not done!" Florence added. "Now go back upstairs and don't come down until you are fully clothed.

"And have brushed your hair," Constance said firmly.

"And your teeth."

"But I haven't even had breakfast yet-"

"Teeth! Now!"

Barty, grumbling, went upstairs, warning the other Death Eaters that he saw on the way to get dressed before going down or face a lecture from the Great Aunts.

When they were all finally dressed, downstairs and having their breakfast, Great Aunt Florence noticed something.

"Where is Tom?" She asked.

"Upstairs," Lucius replied. "He always has an hour longer in bed than the rest of us."

The two Great Aunts looked at each other with tight lipped expressions, and, without a single word, stood up and marched upstairs.

Voldemort was enjoying a nice lie in. He had heard the others get up and go downstairs, and it pleased him to think that he would be enjoying some nice toast and jam readily prepared by one of his minions who had gotten up a whole hour earlier than him.

He hugged his teddy bear and sighed happily, listening to the birds sing outside with their lovely tune gently rousing him for the new day...

"TOM! WAKE UP!"

Voldemort sat up sharply and gave a squeak of fright. Constance and Florence were standing over his bed, fixing him with identical glares.

"What are you doing here?" He squeaked, gathering up his duvet to hide his pink bunny pyjamas.

"We are here to get you out of bed," Great Aunt Florence replied. "You staying in bed an extra hour whilst your friends are up, not to mention your guests? It is unheard of!"

"Well-"

"Up! Now!"

Voldemort leapt out of bed. They looked in disdain at his pyjamas and then returned their stony gazes to their great nephew.

"We will be downstairs awaiting you for breakfast to begin," Great Aunt Constance said. "And you better be dressed and have your teeth brushed."

"But I haven't eaten-" He stopped at the dangerous looked he was recieving from them, and shut up. They walked out of the room without a word.

Voldemort came downstairs for breakfast a few minutes later, in his usual black robes, teeth nicely brushed. Great Aunt Constance and Florence seemed to have been doing a good job of keeping everyone off the food before he arrived. He sat down at the table, and they began to eat.

"So," Great Aunt Constance said when they had all finished. "Tom, what do you plan to do with us today?"

"Excuse me?" Voldemort asked.

"Well surely you have an exciting line up for your Great Aunties," Florence added. "Walking around a stately home? Going to an art museum?"

"I didn't have anything planned, actually," Voldemort admitted.

"Oh," The Great Aunts sipped their tea, a tense air about them.

"But, I'm sure we could arrange something," he said quickly. "Where were you thinking?"

"Anywhere sophisticated," Constance replied. "I've always wanted to go to London in the 1900's, but of course, time travel is impossible."

At these words, Barty became very busy with buttering another piece of toast.

"Never mind," Great Aunt Constance sighed. "I suppose we could stay here. Now, if everyone's finished, you must go and brush your teeth."

"Again?" Dolohov groaned. Great Aunt Constance shot him a steely glare.

"Yes," she said. "Dental hygiene is very important. Unfortunately, I forgot my toothbrush, so I had to borrow one of the ones in the bathroom." The Death Eaters all tensed up. "The one with the letter 'B' on it," she continued.

"Ha!" Barty laughed, pointing at Bellatrix. "Loser!"

"The blue one," Great Aunt Constance finished, and Barty's smile dropped immediately.

"Oh, that's foul!" he cried, and raced out of the room.

The others looked at her in disgust.

"A lady must always have pristeen teeth," she said.

"But Aunty," Voldemort cried in exhasperation. "Your teeth aren't even real!"

"I know that, Tom," she sniffed. "I put them in a mug of water for the night, the black one with bats on."

Snape put down his mug at once and glanced at it as though it was something he had found on the end of his shoe.

"Well chop chop!" Great Aunt Florence cried. "Come on, brush your teeth all of you!"

There was a scraping of chairs as the Death Eaters got up and left the room.

"They're nightmares!"

"They're terible!"

"They're so bossy!"

"And scary."

"They used my toothbrush!"

"I don't think I'm ever going to use that mug again."

"Shut up!" Voldemort cried. "All of you! Shut up! Now, I know that my Great Aunties are a little... difficult, maybe, but they are related to me."

"We have to get rid of them!" Rodolphus said finally.

"But how on earth are we going to do that?" Dolohov asked. "They are not human. They're like the relatives from hell..."

"You're right," Voldemort sighed. "Three days of them and I'll be pulling out my hair." He shot a warning glance at Rabastan who looked as though he was about to speak.

"How though, my lord?" Dolohov asked.

"I have a brilliant idea," Voldemort smirked. "Barty, we're going to need your practical joke supplies..."

The clock ticked, sounding very loud in the silence in the living room. Rabastan and Rodophus had been assigned to keeping the Great Aunts busy whilst the others prepared for Operation Extermination, (Barty came up with the name.)

"So..." Rodolphus said slowly after what seemed like an eternity of silence, in which he and Rodolphus had been sitting uncomfortably in two armchairs, trying to look anywhere but at Great Aunt Constance and Florence who were sitting opposite them on the other sofa, staring at them with an unblinking stony gaze. "Lovely weather." Rodolphus finished.

They continued staring at them.

"The others will be along in a minute," he added.

At that moment, Rabastan nudged his brother and nodded at the floor beside the door where a small, scruffy and very familiar looking rat had just scurried in.

It hurried over to the Great Aunt's feet and attracted their attention by nibbling at Great Aunt Florence's high heels.

There were two high pitched screams from the Great Aunts, as, all graces forgotten, leapt off the sofa and did a peculiar dance trying to step on the rat.

"Poor guy," Rodolphus said to Rabastan, watching the rat scurry about trying to dodge the feet.

"Brave, though," Rabastan commented.

"Nah," Rodolphus replied. "Barty said if he didn't do it then he'd stuff him in one of Voldemort's jam jars."

"Oh."

"AAARRGGGHH!" The Great Aunts shrieked and ran out of the room, unfortunately causing a bucket that had been precariously balanced on top of the door frame to fall down and soak them with some questionable slimy green substance.

This caused them to shriek all the louder, and they raced towards the front door, only to trigger a trip wire and to have several water balloons land on their heads.

Soaking, slimy and terrified, the two Great Aunts flung open the door, Great Aunt Constance drew out her wand and just managed a shaky: 'Accio suitcases' and catch she and Florence's bags as they zoomed down the stairs towards her, before shooting out of the door. It was then that they were confronted by Barty's owls, who swooped after them, chasing them down the garden path and out of the gate where they disapperated into thin air.

Voldemort gave a sigh of relief while his minions cheered loudly. His Great Aunts were gone at last.

"Well done minions," he said when the commotion had died down. "And if I see any of you having any table manners of any kind ever again, you will be very sorry."

"Post!" Came a voice.

"Ah, thank you, Postie," Voldemort said, picking his way across the slime and water ridden floor to take the letters from the rather bewildered looking postman.

The postman tipped his hat to Voldemort, and, with one last befuddled look around the now rather messy hallway, walked off down the garden path.

Voldemort was now in a considerably happy mood, and, as he opened a letter addressed to him, he knew that nothing could dampen his spirits at all.

But as he read the letter, his smile slowly faded, and he began to see just how very wrong he was.

Dear Tommy boy,

How's it going old chap? Fantastic for me, got myself a new tweed suit the other day, a little mugglish maybe, but they certainly know how to dress! Anyway, bit of bad news, I'm afraid. Played one of the lads in a game of poker the other day, and, erm, I lost my entire estate in ten minutes. So I was wondering if you'd be a sport and let me bunk at your place for a few weeks? Smashing.

From your favourite second cousin, Albert.

Voldemort folded up the letter and put it back in the envelope, his tight lipped expression reminding the others very much of the Great Aunts.

"What is it?" Dolohov asked.

"My muggle loving, rich, eccentric second cousin Albert," Voldemort replied. "Is coming to stay."

There was silence. Then suddenly, Voldemort could not hold it in any more:

"NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

----

(Cackles.)

Oh how I love to make fun of relatives.