Good evening assorted losers. I have been stuck with the job of babysitting tonight. (Thank God not Stewart Mallory). The kids I'm looking after range from four to twelve, and, Bluey, if you're reading, they are owls, yes. (Barty wanted to do some evil meditation.)

Anywho, this story is very much improvised, all I know about it so far is that Harry Potter will be in it, and bear in mind that this is half based on the film and half based on the book. In the film Harry has the dream about Voldemort's evil plan at the Burrow, but in the book he has it at Privet Drive. However in the film the dream has Barty in it, and in the book it doesn't. My nice and fair version has Harry having the dream at Privet Drive, but it does have Barty in it. And I'm using the lines from the film, not the book, so I can get in Barty's little glance up at Wormtail when he goes over to the chair and turn it into a very Bartyish menacing glare. Everyone got that? Good. (Collapses.)

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Voldemort has an evil plan

"My Lord, not that I don't think it a brilliant idea and all, but why are we meeting in this place?"

"Because we are, Crouch, is that a problem?" Voldemort snapped in reply.

"No, my lord, of course not."

"And it's cool." The Dark lord added.

"Yes, of course."

"And, erm," Barty walked across the room inside the Riddle House and over to the chair and picked up one of Voldemort's socks which was held up by some cellotape. "What is this for?"

"People are going to think that that is me," Voldemort replied proudly.

"Why?" The Death Eater asked.

"Because it will creep them out and build suspense," Voldemort replied irritably. "Stop asking so many questions."

"Just one more," Barty said.

"Fine. Last one, mind."

"What is that doing here?" Barty pointed at Wormtail, who glared at him.

"I have no idea," Voldemort replied. "Just gives me something to kick."

Wormtail winced, as if Voldemort's foot had already collided painfully with his rear.

"Right," Voldemort said with an evil grin. "This is the plan. When that Muggle comes up the stairs- what?" He sighed as Barty raised his hand.

"How do you know he's coming up the stairs?"

"Because I looked out of the window," Voldemort replied.

"But he could be going somewhere else," Barty pointed out. "How do you know he's coming here?"

"Because- because I do!" The Dark Lord snapped. "Now just shut up and listen. When he comes up the stairs," he shot a warning glance at Barty who had begun to raise his hand. "You will start reciting the lines I told you, except make it look as though you're talking to the sock. Then Nagini will come slithering in over there, and WHAMO! The muggle is dead!"

There was silence in the room. The only noise was the crackling of the fire.

"So the snake will kill him," Barty said at last.

"No, no, I will kill him, Nagini will just tell me that he's there."

"But if you know he's coming then why does she need to tell you that he's there?" Barty asked.

"Because- oh just be quiet. I think I can hear something." He hurried over to the other side of the room and waited.

Frank Bryce crept up the stairs of the Riddle House. He knew there were some kids in that room, he had heard them talking. He stopped as he heard an angry raised voice, and a frightened voice replying hastily.

"Oh, no my Lord Voldemort," Wormtail was saying. "I just meant, perhaps, if we were to do it without the boy."

"NO!" Came the angry reply. "The boy is everything! It cannot be done without him! And it will be done exactly as I say!"

Barty walked over to the sock, glared up at Wormtail and then tried to keep a straight face as he spoke to the sock.

"I will not disappoint you my Lord," he said, as solemnly as he could.

"I will not disappoint you my Lord," Wormtail mimicked jealously. Barty shot him a nasty glare.

"Good," Voldemort continued from the other end of the room. "First, gather our old comrades, send them a sign."

Frank Bryce froze as a huge snake, at least twelve feet long slithered right past him and into the room. It snaked it's way up the armchair and hissed at the thing sitting in it.

"Nagini tells me that the muggle caretaker is standing right outside the door," Voldemort said.

Barty glanced up at the doorway in mock surprise and Wormtail hurried over to the door.

"Step aside, Wormtail," Voldemort said. "So I can give our guest a proper greeting. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Frank Bryce collapsed.

"Can we go home now?" Barty asked in exhasperation.

Voldemort glared, ripped his cellotape covered sock off the armchair and stalked out of the room, stepping over the motionless body.

Two hundred miles away, the boy called Harry Potter woke with a start.

He got out of bed at once and picked up a piece of parchment and quill.

Dear Ron

I had a weird dream. I know this is going to be hard to believe, and it's not funny, I'm dead serious, but Voldemort is a sock.

Harry.

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I don't know how many of you have read A Series of Unfortunate Events, or even seen the film, but I was pondering this morning about writing another story for fanfiction, and I was thinking about doing a simliar story to this, except about Count Olaf and his troupe. What do you think? Too diabollical? Give me some feedback!

Reddy.