Hey, it's been a while! Finally got the motivation to write. Lotta things have changed. I'm a university student so things are pretty hectic (comp sci major lol). I feel like writing nowadays feels so forced to me, but thankfully this particular short story was pretty fun to write. I'm afraid it won't be as good as my previous stories in terms of quality, imagination, or fun-ness but hopefully some elements of my writing have improved. Anyways, thanks for sticking around if you're returning to this mess of a story. I was also thinking of posting an edited version of this entire series of short fanfics to AO3, as it seems like that's where the cool people lurk nowadays. Thoughts? Opinions? Concerns? Suggestions?
Anyhow, hope you enjoy! (Or not, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't)
A cluster of Death Eaters sat scheming by the Malfoy Manor dining table. It was a night like most others in their daily routine: they had had their quota of murderous acts of the day, and had just arrived back at the manor. It had been a day filled with the slaying and torturing of masses of innocent pedestrians in the hopes that one of them turned out to be Harry Potter (of course, they knew that it was highly unlikely that the boy wizard would be that easy to kill, but Death Eaters just wanna have fun, and who are we to deny them that?) It was a bit of a ritual in the Death Eater household to partake in an evening of Monopoly and tea for winding down. Especially following a long day of thoughts of nothing but Death to Harry Potter and others equally as silly as Kill All the Filthy Muggles and Mudbloods.
Lord Voldemort, adorned in a silky, inky-black bathrobe resembling that of a Dementor's work attire, approached the table packed with his minions. He glanced at the game of Monopoly and the fake bills scattered around the centre, and curled his lips in revulsion. The table, once abuzz with noise just moments before, now descended into a silence so hushed that even the slightest intake of breath seemed to hold a threat. At that present moment, Lucius Malfoy had a cup of tea hovering midway to his lips. With a swift motion, he set the cup down, wincing at the sudden noise in the stillness of the room. The sound of the cup meeting the table's surface did not escape the notice of Lord Voldemort. A malicious smirk played across the Dark Lord's lips, and the figure began to make his way toward the elder Malfoy.
He stopped at Lucius's chair. "What do you have there, old pal?"
Malfoy's lip quivered for a brief moment, before he cleared his throat. "Earl Grey, M-my Lord."
To this, Lord Voldemort gave a sinister smile, before he reached over and seized the mug in question. He brought it to his thin, pale lips and took a delicate sip. He swirled it around in his mouth for a few seconds, much to the disgust of his most flaxen-maned follower. He spat the tea out in the direction of Peter Pettigrew, who at that moment was trying to discreetly grab himself a few extra Monopoly bills from the bank.
The wad of spittle hit Peter's face squarely, eliciting a whimper from him. Lord Voldemort drew his hand up to silence the rat-man's further protests. He turned to his followers.
"No, this won't do. This won't do at all. I will not have my followers drinking goblin piss." He redirected his attention to his host. "I was under the impression that you, Malfoy, possess considerable wealth. Was I perhaps mistaken?"
At these words, the Dark Lord set the mug down on the table with such intensity, it caused the poor object to fracture at its base. The liquid began trickling down to where the Monopoly board lay, paused mid-game. Malfoy appeared to be trying with all his might to avoid jumping out of his skin. "N-no, My Lord. Was the tea not to your liking?"
"Not to my liking? Not to my liking he asks!" At this, hesitant snickers broke out around the table. Lord Voldemort raised a hand to silence them. "And here I was, under the impression that you possessed a brain in that thick head of yours, Malfoy. Why, this is unfit for the likes of a house-elf. No mudblood prisoner of mine would dare lay a filthy finger on this abhorrent concoction!"
"No of course not, sir. I deeply apologise. I will remedy this right away. Caillou!"
A balding house-elf appeared with a loud CRACK! It grabbed the offending object and vanished instantly with it.
A fellow death eater perked up at the house-elf's name. Clearly he was new to this whole Death Eater business, because he turned to the elder Malfoy and boldly inquired, "Are you also a fan of that muggle television show?"
"Muggle television show? You ought to be pulling my leg. How dare you insinuate that I, Lucius Malfoy, Lord of Malfoy Manor, would associate myself with such—"
Lord Voldemort aimed his wand at Malfoy and the man promptly shut himself up. "What muggle television show is he referencing? I demand to hear of it at once!" he barked.
"There's this annoying, spoiled bald boy named Caillou who everyone theorizes has cancer. Personally, I don't support that theory, but he do be kinda bald not gonna lie, so who knows."
"And who is this 'everyone' you speak of?"
"Uh, fans of the show, I guess?"
At Lord Voldemort's entirely unamused expression, the Death Eater whipped out a rectangular-shaped object from his pocket. It was entirely black on one side, and neon pink on the other, where the words "Barbie Girl" were etched against the bright colour. The Death Eater pressed a button on its side, and the mysterious device lit up with a calmer magenta glow. With his wand arm he swiped up on the screen and tapped on numbers that appeared, in a seemingly random manner. The screen flickered for a moment, until a photo of a blonde-haired doll with crystal-blue eyes appeared. "Well, that's embarrassing. Didn't mean to show that one." He tapped a few times more, and suddenly a photo of a young boy with a round face and an air of curiosity about him took up the screen. His head was completely devoid of hair, and he had tiny yet expressive eyes. The boy wore a yellow shirt, blue shorts, and red sneakers. Lord Voldemort shook his head in disgust. "This," he paused for a moment, contemplating a word to aptly describe the newfound horror on the screen, "creature? It has fans?"
The Death Eater with the strange rectangular device nodded his head vigorously.
"I see. Get it away from my face at once."
As the Death Eater hastily pocketed his peculiar device, Lord Voldemort's attention shifted back to the group. He leaned forward, his crimson eyes unusually bright as he addressed the group. "We need to find a way to utilize this 'Caillou' predator to further our goals of eradicating Harry Potter and his mudblood friends."
The Death Eaters exchanged puzzled yet excited glances. Lucius Malfoy, emboldened by this turn of events, piped up: "But my Lord, how can this abomination aid us in our plans?"
Lord Voldemort's serpentine smile returned, sending shivers down the spines of his followers. "Ah, my friend, you underestimate the power of this horrid creation. We shall use this Caillou creature as a tool to strike fear into the hearts of our enemies."
As Voldemort spoke, he conjured a dark, magical recreation of Caillou, causing the room to be filled with the eerie image of the bald, innocent-looking boy. "Imagine this, my loyal Death Eaters. We shall create a series of photographs, showcasing the horrors that Caillou can unleash upon those who oppose us. We will spread these images through magical means, infiltrating the minds of muggles and wizards alike. They will see Caillou as the embodiment of their deepest fears."
The Dark Lord cackled at the thought of this, more excited than he had ever been in his entire existence. "Caillou will become a symbol of terror," Voldemort continued. "A symbol that strikes fear into the hearts of those who would oppose our reign. They will be so consumed by fear that they will tremble in fear at the thought of resisting our power. This Caillou creature is the key to our victory. With Caillou, we will triumph. "
The Death Eaters broke out in applause.
"Let the fun begin!"
