Hey guys! I realize its been forever (Maybe even 3 months!) since I updated last, but, to be fair, i have had lots of things going on. For example, School (Quite a hassle), and first, Word somehow got deleted off of my computer, then my computer broke! Urg... I had to use my brother's computer until - happy day! - my parents told me that I was getting a new computer! An "early Christmas gift" they called it. Even the I paid for half of it. Its pretty nice. Well, its Friday, my fingers are itching to write, and this story can't go unfinished. Sorry for the long A/N...ENJOY!
It had been a week since Millie had been transported via waffle to Voldemort's lair. She had decided to spice up the place, just in time for the Holidays.
"Da da dum, diddly dum..." She hummed as she strung the popcorn. Just then, Voldemort returned from his "potty break" and was aghast.
"What have you done!" He shrieked in his high, snake-like voice. "Why is everything so, so cheerful looking!"
Millie gazed around the room to admire her work. In one corner of the cold, dark cave, holly was glued to the wall. Lights hung around in streams, casting red and white glows on small portions of the wall, making the entire place seem slightly warmer. Or perhaps that was the work of the fire, that was at the far wall, under a white mantel with green holly strewn accross it that Millie had magicked up. The best part, though, had to be the ginormous evergreen, billowing over everyone, decorated with lights, shimmering ornaments, and a string of popcorn. At the top, there was perched a wand - Voldemort's wand - revolving and sending sparks off.
"I decorated for Christmas!" Millie smiled.
Incredulously, Voldemort cried, "In the two minutes that I had left to use the bathroom?"
"Hey," She rolled her eyes. "Magic?"
"Well, what if I were Jewish? I'd be offended by all this hogwash and tomfoolery!"
"Way ahead of you." Millie reached down and brought up a huge Manorah.
"Well, no matter what, you still fail." Voldemort harumpfed. "I'm an atheist."
Millie gasped. Not a regular gasp, and loud, animated exaggerated gasp that only appears in fictional stories, and Millie's life.
"That means that you don't believe..." Millie's voice faltered.
"Yes, precisely."
"In Santa Claus!" Millie wailed, without noticing Voldemort's comment. He did a double-take.
"Wait...you're thirteen, you don't believe, do you?" Voldemort laughed. He definitely would have killed Millie by now if she weren't a constant source of entertainment. Not the gross blood horror movie entertainment that he was used to, but, just plain old fun.
"Of COURSE I do! Who else brings the presents? Who else eats the cookies?"
"Uh...you're parents?" Voldemort tried.
"HA." She bellowed, almost knocking Voldemort off his feet. "My parents are both lactose intolerant! No way they could have drank all the milk I put out!"
"Just you wait, Mister 'I'm-too-evil-to-believe' man! Just you wait until tonight. I'll have presents in the morning and you, you'll just have coal."
Voldemort rolleed his eyes. If this girl wanted to believe, so be it. He'd just crush her dreams in the morning.
"Millie? What time is it?" He asked.
"Uh, ten-thirty." She said, checking her watch.
"Well, it's passed your bedtime. Into the cage, c'mon."
"Just one more minute, please?"
"No no, you'll sleep all morning."
"Fine..." She sighed and reluctantly climbed into her cage. "G'nite, Voldey."
Voldemort grunted.
With a wave of his hands, he turned out the light, and climbed into bed, where visions of sugarplums danced in his head.
He awoke to a large commotion. Down below, one of the nutcrackers that Millie had set out was running. He was being chased by a rat!
"Better not be Wormtail," He grumbled. But at closer inspection, he realized that the rat, indeed, was not his companion. He shrieked.
The nutcracker ran up to him and squeaked, "Help me!" Suddenly, Voldemort felt his entire body shrinking until he was the size of the rat!
"What is going on!" He cried.
"We need to defeat the Rat King and get to the Sugarplum Princess before its too late!"
Voldemort set a determined look. While the rat charged towards him, he braced himself. Just before impact, Voldemort started crumping. He knew the years of dance class, the ridicule of wearing those tights all those years, would pay off one day.
The rat spontaneously combusted and disappeared in a thick green smoke.
Voldemort smiled as the nutcracker lead him through a mouse hole that apparently caves have.
After a wonderful adventure, the nutcracker was subject to burn in a bonfire! After considering for a moment, Voldemort decided that the nutcracker really shouldn't die. He raced to his already scorched side, and cried. His favorite device! As his tears landed on the nutcracker, something miraculous happened. His burns were disappearing! Voldemort suddenly realized, after their entire trek, he was the Sugarplum Princess. He was the Sugarplum Princess!
"I AM THE SUGARPLUM PRINCESS!" He declared! He gasped. He sputtered. He sat up in bed, utterly confused.
"What the..." That was quite a dream he had had. Shaking it off, he got up from his bed and sat in his loveseat by the fire. To clear his brain, he cooked up some gruel. As he was munching away, something terrifying happened. Boxes on chains flew out of the wall! He heard a terrible moaning sound, and clutched his gruel for his dear life.
Suddenly, a terrible, grusome figured emerged from the wall. To his surprise, it was someone who deemed familiar.
"I am the ghost of Jacob Millie..." The horrible figure moaned. Voldemort glanced at the cage; Millie was sound asleep.
"To save you from your non-believing ways, you will be visited by three ghosts!" Jacob Millie let his...hers? its words drag out.
"I'd rather not." He said weakly.
"TOO STINKING BAD." It bellowed! Then, it cackled and flew out the window that mysteriously appeared.
Voldemort ran under his covers, shuddering. Suddenly, a candle-like creature floated into his room. It swayed back and forth as it said, "...I am the ghost of Christmas past..." It had a high, breathy voice.
"Go away!" He cried.
"Hahaha, no." The ghost touched Voldemort's arm and they were suddenly transported to the old orphanage where Voldey grew up, back when he went by "Tom."
He saw a sleigh full of happy children go by, and his heart sank. The scene dissolved and they entered a room where a solitairey child sat, looking longingly out the window, singing "Silent Night."
"Poor child, ostracized by his friends." The candle thing said, shaking his head.
"That poor, devilishly handsome young boy! Don't his friends realize his ture potential! Ghost, take me away from here. Haunt me no longer!" And at that, he was back in his bed.
"Whew, what a weird dream." He wiped his head. Suddenly, he heard large, loud heaps of laughter. He cautiously walked into the larger part of the cage, and noticed that Millie had done some more decorating. Well, so he thought.
There was a great figure perched upon heaps of toys and food.
"I am the ghost of Christmas present!" He shouted. "Touch my robe!"
Voldemort, stunned, angered, did as he was told. The great man spun his trident around until the floor dissolved, and intead showed the under side of what they were walking on. Bugs and dirt.
It moved all over London until it settled on a young boy, his cheecks tear-stained. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed in a dormitory. He had messy hair and broken glasses.
"Are you all right, Harry?" The annoying Ginger asked.
"I just can't believe that Millie's missing Christmas. That bloody bastard Voldemort is depriving her of an amazing opportunity."
Did Harry really think of him as a bastard? Though it was no surprise - he had killed both his parents and kidnapped his love - it made Voldemort sad.
Still, watching Harry suffer filled him with glee. He clapped.
"Okay, bad example."
The scene shifteed yet again, until it came to an old man, having dinner with two substantually younger men, and an old woman.
"Merry Christmas, all the Riddles!" Tom announced. "I'm so glad you two are my only children, and I don't have some unheard of one who ran off ane became a murderer or something."
Everyone laughed at Voldemort's father's joke.
Voldemort cried.
The scene shifted yet again. They were at some persons house. A man walked in, carrying a tiny boy on his shoulders. The large family sat around a small table in their shabby London house.
"I hope one day you'll be able to eat a real Christmas turkey," the woman said.
"Yes, this'll have to do." The man agreed optimistically. "But for now, lemme say a toast."
Everyone raised their glasses.
"To Mister Scrooge!" He announced. The other family members looked incredulous, but the tiny one said,
"God bless us, Every one!"
"Ghost, who are these people?" Voldemort asked.
"Irrelevant, just wanted to stick to the story." He chuckled. "The boy dies."
Voldemort grinned maliciously.
Again, he suddenly awoke in his bed. Still shaking off the last dream, he was randomly jerked upward by an unseen force. He then saw a shadow pulling him accross and down a flight of stairs, where Harry, was cheerily talking with his friends.
"I can't believe he's finally dead! Hooray!" He smiled.
"I'm so glad that we fought, and fought, and now, Voldemort is dead! He's gone! Good riddance!"
"No, no!" Voldy cried! "I have horcruxes! I'm supposed to live forever! And you're saying that this imbecile beat me! Again?"
The shadow said nothing, for he had no mouth.
Once again, he was pulled by the force. In Godric's Hollow, next to the Potter's graves, was a new one.
Tom Marvolo Riddle. RIA. (Rest in Agony!) Mwahahaha, hooray! Ding dong, the witch is dead! Let us rejoice!
It was a huge gravestone.
"Say it isn't so, spirit! Say it isn't so!" Suddenly, the grave opened up beneath him. He fell.
He conked his head on the floor of his cave, next to his bed. Enraged, he tore off the sweat soaked pajamas he wore and replaced them with red and white ones. They were comfy, but the made his look fat. He also put on his red night-cap.
He stormed out the the part of the cage with the decorations, and grabbed the tree. He could not take anymore of this Christmas madness!
But, as he was stuffing the tree into a stocking with an enlargement charm, he heard something that stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Santa, why are you taking our tree?" He looked down and saw Millie looking back up at him.
"Why, there was a light that broke, so I'm taking it back up to my workshop to fix it."
"It's ok, the electrician's coming in the morning."
"Why don't you go get a drink of water, little girl." He was growing frustrated.
She looked at him for a minute before saying, "I'm in a cage."
"Fine. I came to ask what you wanted this year." He lied.
"I want Voldemort to get something he always wanted."
He was taken aback. "What?"
"Well, he always gets coal, 'cause, he's, ya'know, a serial killer. But this year, I think you should give him...the Elder wand. He's been talking about it for a while now, and I think he deserves it."
And what happened you ask? Well some people say, that Voldemort's heart grew three sizes that day.
"Tell you what, I'll leave the tree here, and you go back to sleep." As soon as she shut her eyes, Voldemort used his wand to create as many gifts for Millie that he could think of. When he was done, a fat man with a beard in a red sweat suit walked in and said,
"Thanks man, you're really taking a load off me," patted him on the shoulder, and left.
"On Dasher, on Prancer, on Donnor and Dixon!" Voldemort heard outside.
"You're welcome, Santa." He smiled.
A/N HAHAHAHA just wanted to make a Holiday special! bye