The Wizard of Godric's
Tom Riddle opened his eyes… and immediately
closed them. He did not want to see this. This could not be happening. What
could not be happening was a frilly blue dress and a pair of sparkly red shoes.
On him. The dress and the shoes were on him, and he was wearing them. What on
earth was going on? He sat up, thinking of transfiguring the outfit and then
apparating away from…wherever he was. Suddenly, he was licked in the face by a
big black dog named Snuffles. “You!” he roared, “You’re supposed to be
dead! You fell behind the veil!” The dog just looked at him. Tom started
searching for his wand, and while he was distracted, Snuffles peed on his pretty
red shoe, and ran off barking at squirrels. “Arrrrg!! Come back here! I
don’t need my wand; I’ll kill you with my bare hands!” Tom screamed with
rage, running after the mutt.
Tom caught up with the dog a little way down the road, where it had stopped to
growl at something in the brush. The thing in the brush growled back, and
suddenly attacked. It was a rat. As it flew toward Tom, he grabbed its tail, and
threw it into a tree. It hit the tree hard and landed, but by the time it had
landed it turned into a small man with watery black eyes. “Wormtail!” Riddle
sneered. “What are you doing?” The small man screamed and cried “I’m
just so scared!”
Just then, in a puff of smoke, Dumbledore appeared. “What do you want?”
sneered Riddle. “Socks,” replied Dumbledore, “I really like those socks
you’re wearing, and nobody ever gives me any, so I’m going to take yours.”
“Get lost!” screamed Riddle, “I am the great Lord Voldemort! You may not
have anything of mine!!” A bubble suddenly appeared. It grew larger, and soon
vanished leaving Bellatrix Lestrange in a frilly pink dress in its place. She
looked down at the dress, “What is with this get-up? I would kill before I
wear pink.” “I think you look lovely in it,” Dumbledore said. Bellatrix
didn’t seem to like the compliment. As a matter of fact, it put her in a
towering rage. “Shut up! I’ll kill you for that!”
“Ahem!” Voldemort interrupted her, with a nasty look. "What is going
on?” “Oh, you have to go see the Wizard of Godric’s hollow,” Bellatrix
said dismissively, “I don’t know how I know that, but you just follow this
road and it will take you straight there. Oh, and don’t give Dumbledore your
socks.” “As if I would,” Voldemort muttered. “Fine!” screamed
Dumbledore, “Don’t give them to me. But sooner or later I will get them, and
your little…erm…rather large dog, too!” And with a puff of smoke,
Dumbledore was gone. Bellatrix huffed and disappeared also.
Without anything else to do, Voldemort started walking down the path again. In a
short while he came to a castle. He knocked on the door. “Who’s there,
sir?” a high voice timidly asked. “I am lord Voldemort, and I have come to
see the wizard of Godric’s Hollow,” Voldemort replied. A small house elf
opened the door and backed away. “Master must follow Dobby, sir, Dobby must
take you to reception, sir,” the house elf said, and shuffled away.
Before long, Voldemort came to a desk behind which a squat witch who looked
rather like a toad was sitting. “Name?” she asked sharply. “The great Lord
Voldemort,” Voldemort replied. “Purpose?” “To take over the world and
purge it of filthy Muggles and mudbloods.” The squat witch looked up at him
sternly, “For the visit.” “Oh,” Voldemort replied, “I’m supposed to
see the wizard.” “Nobody gets in to see the wizard without filling out the
proper paperwork!” the witch said croakily. She handed Voldemort a stack of
paper an inch thick and a pen. Voldemort looked down at the questionnaire.
“question one: birth name; question two: residence; question three: list every
place you have ever been and at least three people that can vouch that you were
there; question four: have you ever been convicted of any illegal spell work,
and if so, explain” Voldemort flipped through to the middle of the stack.
“Question 57698: are you evil? Question 57699: are you telling the truth?
Question 57700: are you absolutely sure?” Voldemort flipped further through
the document. “Question 24397564: Do purple dress robes clash with an orange
hat? Question 24397565: What’s your favorite pet name? Question 24397566: How
much longer do you think filling this out will take? Question 24397567: Are you
still here?” Voldemort flipped to the last page. “Question 397292498582476:
How many popcorn Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans does it take to feed a
Tupperware party? Question 397292498582477: If train A is leaving from point B
at 75 mph, and train W is leaving from Hogsmeade at 43 mph, and both are heading
west but one charges $2 for an apple, how many clouds are shaped like
pigeons?” Voldemort scanned down to the last question: “Are you absolutely
positively absotively couldn’t be more sure that you really really want to see
the wizard? Cuz I’ve heard there’s ghosts in there!”
“Ghosts?” cried Wormtail, who had been reading over Voldemort’s shoulder.
“Ahhhh!! I do believe in ghosts. I do believe in ghosts. I do, I do, I do
believe in ghosts!”
Voldemort began walking to the set of doors behind the desk. The squat witch
waddled after him and called, “Have you finished the questionnaire? Hey! Come
back!” but Voldemort just kept going. He finally got to a room at the end of
the hall, with Snuffles bounding after him. He opened the door, and there….
Was Harry Potter smiling at him.
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!” Voldemort screamed, as he woke up from the worst, and
strangest nightmare of his existence.