A Day In the Life of Lord Voldemort

Additional disclaimer:

I do not own the rights to Facebook, Hannah Montana, Ben & Jerry's, Sweating to the Oldies With Richard Simmons, Twilight, or the Oprah show.

It was midnight, and Voldemort was fast asleep, clutching his teddy bear in his arms. He snored loudly as saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth. The door to his bedroom opened slowly and silently, and a woman with wild black hair and heavy lidded eyes tiptoed inside. She stood still for a moment, assuring herself that the Dark Lord was really asleep, and then proceeded to crouch down next to his bed and take numerous photographs of the two of them side by side, smiling widely with every flash of her camera. Satisfied, she giggled silently and whispered to herself as she silently closed the door behind her, "These are so going on Facebook!"

The sun was just beginning to rise as Voldemort snoozed on, oblivious to anything that had happened in the past eight hours. His alarm clock, which he had set to awake him with his favorite song, read 5:59 am. One short minute later, his peaceful sleep was interrupted.

Everybody makes mistakes! Everybody has those days! Everybody knows what, what I'm talking bout, everybody gets that way! Nobody's perfect! I gotta work it! Again and again till I get it right! Nobody's perfect! You live and you learn it, and if I mess it up sometimes, nobody's perfect!

Voldemort angrily punched the "off" button on the clock, rubbed his eyes, and reluctantly rose from his bed. Oh, how he hated early mornings. But he was a Dark Lord, and as such, he had lots of work to do. He stumbled down the stairs, still groggy, and fixed himself a cup of coffee. He cursed loudly when he burned his lip on the scalding hot liquid, for he had forgotten to add his favorite white chocolate creamer. He removed the creamer from the fridge and thought to himself as he poured it into his coffee, "I must find a way to blame Wormtail for this." His cup overflowed. "And that as well."

He finished his coffee quickly and ran back upstairs to get ready for a new day. He sang Hannah Montana songs as he showered, then spent a good twenty minutes blow drying his bald head, for he was in great denial. Afterward he opened his closet door and pondered over what to wear. "Hmm...Black robes...or...black robes? I think I shall go with the...black robes!" So he donned his black robes and apparated at once to his secret headquarters (in the basement of a local Wal-Mart building).

As he made his way to his dark lordly office, he was flooded with requests from countless Death Eaters.

"My lord! We've received reports of a potential hiding place for the Order, but it may be a trap. Should nameless disposable Death Eaters be sent?"

"Yes, I believe so..."

"Sir, I have undergone some sleuthing and it turns out Harry Potter's preferred ice cream brand is Ben & Jerry's. Is this of any use to you?"

"No it is not. Avada Kedavra! Ben & Jerry's...My badness!"

"My lord, I have reason to believe that Snape is spying for the Order!"

"That is ridiculous! Next you'll probably tell me the Malfoys will end up on Potter's side as well! Avada Kedavra!"

Finally he reached his office and managed to squeeze his way through the crowd to get inside. Wormtail greeted him as he dusted himself off and took his seat in a throne-like chair behind his desk.

"Yes, hello, Wormtail. Let us see what's in the suggestion box today, shall we?" He reached into a small box labeled "suggestions" and pulled out a small note. He read it aloud, "'Please stop killing us randomly. -Chad' Ah, a very bold request. I like that. Wormtail, see that Chad is killed."

"Yes, Master...Should I do it myself?"

"No...You see, Bellatrix has been quite anxious to put her talents involving the Cruciatus Curse to good use, or as she so quaintly put it, 'torture the crap out of someone'. So why not let her have her cake and kill it too?"

"Yes, Master. I'll fetch her now."

"Good...and while you're at it, bring me back some Ben & Jerry's. I have quite the craving for some. But do knock before you come in again. There's something I must attend to, and I'd prefer to do it alone."

"Of course," said Wormtail, closing the door behind him.

Voldemort unlocked a drawer on his desk. He pulled out a videotape and placed it in a VCR on the other side of the room, then turned the TV on and proceeded to "Sweat to the Oldies" with Richard Simmons. About halfway through his workout, there came a knock at the door.

"Er...Just a minute!" Voldemort quickly turned the TV off and sat down again at his desk. "All right, come in."

Wormtail rushed in with a bowl full of ice cream. "My lord, I have brought you your Ben & Jerry's."

Voldemort knocked the bowl to the floor. "You fool! I didn't want Cherry Garcia! I was in the mood for that delightful Stephen Colbert's flavor! You know what, Wormtail? I've lost my appetite. Leave me at once!"

Wormtail ran out of the room as fast as his short legs would take him. "Whew, he's gone...," said Voldemort, turning the TV back on and resuming his workout.

He began to sweat, which was not becoming for a Dark Lord, so he removed the videotape from the VCR and locked it back up securely. But what to do now? He glanced around anxiously, listening quietly for approaching footsteps, but the only things he heard were screams and maniacal laughter. "Sounds like Chad just got straight up served!" he said to himself, laughing evilly.

So no one was approaching. That was good, because what he was about to do could not be witnessed by anyone lest he face terrible humiliation. He slowly and carefully unlocked yet another drawer, and pulled out a certain book with an attractive black cover. He opened the book and began reading eagerly. He couldn't resist gushing to himself as he read, "Oooh, Bella's so lucky! Edward is like perfect!"

There came another knock at the door. Voldemort jumped in shock and quickly locked his book away. "Come in, come in..."

"My Lord," said Lucius, entering the office, "I have a question...Um, do seventeen-year-old boys usually take an interest in unicorns, rainbows, and ponies?"

"I've told you a million times, Lucius, NO! Now quit bothering me and have a talk with your son!"

"Er...yes, My Lord..." He seemed dissatisfied with the answer he received, but too terrified to irritate his Master. He grudgingly left the office.

When Lucius's footsteps died away, Volders let out a quick, "squee," and eagerly resumed reading.

About a half hour later he shut his book and sighed longingly. "Oh...that meadow scene gets me every time! I've got to gush about it on Facebook now!"

After securely hiding his copy of Twilight, he turned on his laptop and clicked a bookmark labeled "Facebook."

"Load, darn you....LOAD!!!"

It loaded.

"Ooh, it loaded!"

Without bothering to check the news feed first, he quickly updated his status to, "Lord Voldemort is sooooooo in love with Twilight!!!!!111 <3 :):):)."

He giggled and squealed with excitement. It was then that he noticed his twenty-five new notifications. "Holy crap! And I just logged on yesterday!" He clicked the shortcut for his notifications at the bottom of the page to find that every single one stated the same thing.

"Bellatrix Lestrange has tagged you in a photo..." Confused, he clicked the notification. His mouth hung open in shock.

"Bella...," he grumbled, slamming his laptop shut in his fury.

Angry thoughts rushed through his head as he pushed and shoved his way through the large crowd of Death Eaters. She always does things like this...It's time to make her pay!

"Master?"

"Not now, Wormtail!" roared Voldemort, not even stopping to look at him.

"My Lord, I have some crucial information--"

"It can wait, Travers!"

"Your Evilness, I have brought you the Tiger Beat magazine you asked for--"

"Leave it in my office, Dolohov!"

"I like ponies!"

"Out of my way, Draco!"

At last he reached the proper room (for it was the source of the screaming and maniacal laughter) and barged inside without knocking. Sure enough, there was Bellatrix and her poor victim.

"BELLA!" shouted Voldemort, his fists clenched.

"Cruci--Oh, hi, Voldypoo!" She was blushing. "How wonderful of you to come and see me! Look, Chad! It's the Dark Lord!"

"Splendid...," squeaked the very pitiful looking Death Eater lying on the floor.

"How DARE you?" roared Voldemort.

"B-but," stuttered Bellatrix, "I thought you wanted me to kill Chad!"

"I WAS NOT REFERRING TO THAT, YOU IMBECILE! ...But for the record, yes, I do want him dead and it seems you're doing a fine job of it. Nevertheless, I AM FURIOUS WITH YOU!"

"Oh, I can tell. And may I say it's very becoming. I mean, you're just so sexy when you're in a furious rage!"

"OK, that is it, Bella! I've had it with you and your perverted little comments! PREPARE TO FEEL THE WRATH OF LORD VOLDEMORT! AVADA--" But he was interrupted by a loud beeping noise coming from his wristwatch. "Finally it's time to go home! See you tomorrow, Bella."

"See you sooner," replied Bellatrix under her breath, a mischievous grin on her face. "Now where were we, Chad?"

Voldemort leisurely made his way through the crowd again, so relieved that the stressful day was over that he actually listened to some of his servants' requests and killed only two. Then he again looked at his wristwatch, and his mouth fell open in shock.

"Holy crap, I'm going to be late!!!" So he continued at a breakneck pace, desperately trying to push his way through the crowd to his office. "Out of my way!" he screamed at his minions, "I have to get to my office NOW! It's urgent!" He could not apparate without taking his Twilight book with him, or he would never get to sleep that night! He again glanced at his watch, and ran even faster. He needed to get home badly, or he would miss what he'd been waiting all day for...

After what seemed like an eternity, he reached his office at last. After quickly unlocking his desk drawer and grabbing his favorite book, he disapparated.

One moment later Voldemort appeared in front of the Riddle mansion and rushed inside to the living room. He glanced around anxiously and, failing to find what he needed, began frantically searching the entire room.

"Where is it?" he wailed desperately.

Suddenly, he spotted something under the couch. Upon further inspection, he found an old treacle tart, three Knuts, an outdated copy of Playwizard, and the exact thing he needed: the remote control! He grabbed it and quickly pressed a red button at the top. When the TV came on, the Oprah show was just starting.

The Dark Lord sighed with relief. "Volders, you've done it again!" he said to himself as he leaned back in his seat, finally able to relax and enjoy his favorite show.