Chapter 1 : Voldemort and the Baby Daddy Drama
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It had been a long and frustrating road for Voldemort since his ignominious defeat at the hands of Harry Potter. He had worked several dead end jobs to make ends meet, helplessly looking on as Harry Potter sold his story in books and movies and became a global phenomenon.
After failing to secure any book or movie deals, Voldemort finally succeeded in launching a reality show, “Britain’s Next Top Death Eater,” but it was canceled after only one episode. It was only after Voldemort hired Rita Skeeter as his agent and publicist that his fortunes began to turn somewhat. His big break finally came when he teamed up with Wizarding pop sensation Justinian Beaverton to produce a best-selling Christmas album. Voldemort had been reluctant to give music a try, but with Rita’s encouragement, that collaboration had grown into a full-fledged partnership.
At first glance, Voldemort had little in common with Justinian, a popular young man with a ridiculous hair cut whose vapid pop melodies left music critics unimpressed, yet whose persisting good looks ensured that his poster adorned every girl’s dorm in Hogwarts. However, their musical partnership had been wildly successful for both of them, and their strong working relationship had grown into something Voldemort had never truly experienced; a real friendship.
On this particular night, Voldemort was relaxing backstage having just completed a sold out concert in which he and Justinian had brought down the house by performing their new hit single and accompanying dance craze, “Hogsmeade Style.”
“So what are you up to tonight, Voldy?” Justinian asked as he entered the dressing room.
“I just had a brilliant idea,” answered Voldemort, “It’s sorting night at Hogwarts, how about we go sit in the back and heckle them.”
“I love the way you think,” said Justinian with a grin.
Moments later, they were safely concealed on a small balcony overlooking the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the hall below, nervous new students were being led in for the opening feast, while the faculty sat at the head of the room.
Headmistress Minerva McGonagall then rose to speak.
“Greetings, and welcome to the commencement of another school year, as we celebrate another year in a world made much safer by Voldemort’s defeat.”
Voldemort grimaced and made several obscene gestures at these words.
Justinian tapped him on the arm and whispered, “Yo, I read this story once where you and she were shipped together.”
Voldemort elbowed him angrily, “That’s impossible, never say that again.”
McGonagall continued her speech as Voldemort and Justinian made sarcastic remarks to each other, and took shots of fire whiskey every time she mentioned certain buzzwords, such as “prefect,” “cooperation,” and “quidditch.”
Finally, she concluded her remarks, and yielded the floor to the sorting hat, which immediately launched into its opening song:
Yo dawgs listen up this is where it’s at
Imma put you in your house ‘cause I’m the Sorting Hat
There’s Gryffindor House for the brave and true
And it was home to Harry Potter and all of his crew
It’s the house that’s known for guts and glory
And it’s where you’ll go if you’re important to the story
Then there’s Slytherin House for the sly and sneaky
They live down in the dungeons where it’s dark and leaky
You can go and work out in their underground labs
And try to get Draco Malfoy’s quidditch toned abs
Or maybe Ravenclaw if it’s knowledge you seek,
You’ll sit up in the tower and study like a geek
But it doesn’t make sense and I’m ranting and ravin’
That your mascot’s an eagle and not a raven
And as for Hufflepuffs, well I don’t know,
But if there’s no other options that’s where you’ll go
You earn points for your house, and I’ll tell you the score
‘cause I’m running this show like Dumbledore
I’ll pick the right house, and there aint no doubt
Then I’ll catch you later punks… Sorting Hat, out
The first year students then lined up nervously as “Akbar, Andrew” was called to the front to try the hat on.
“Total Ravenclaw,” Justinian whispered.
“No way, are you kidding me? He’s a Hufflepuff,” Voldemort responded.
After a moment of deliberation, the Sorting Hat proclaimed, “Hufflepuff!”
“Oh snap! Drink up Beaverton!” Voldemort proclaimed as Justinian dutifully took a long swig of fire whiskey.
The hat made its way through the entire first year class, with Voldemort having slightly more success than Justinian at their little game. When it was finally, an eerie silence came over the room as McGonagall rose to speak once more.
“And now, we have a very special sorting to take care of. Mary Sue Lestrange is a seventh year transfer student from the United States. She was just selected as Head Girl at the Salem Witches Academy after being the most successful student they have ever had, but for reasons not entirely clear to me, she has decided to move to the UK and transfer schools. And yes, I know you’re wondering, she is the daughter of the infamous Bellatrix Lestrange, but we must not judge her for that.”
The entire crowd turned to look in unison as Mary Sue Lestrange walked into the hall, and all were amazed at what they saw. Her long black hair was as dark as the darkest night, like when there’s no moon and clouds cover all the stars and you’re far away from the cities so you don’t get the light interference. Or the darkest knight, a watchful guardian that’s the hero we deserve, but not the one we need right now. Her skin was as pale as the palest pale ale that only the snobbiest of beer snobs would drink. Her eyes were as green as a pile of green beans being eaten by a green dragon on a green field. Her confident aura seemed to radiate like the sun during a solar flare, or Chernobyl after a nuclear meltdown. Her teeth were as white as an albino polar bear cub playing on an iceberg, and she carried herself in such a regal manner that she could have been all six of Henry VIII’s wives.
As she approached the front of the room, Professor Flitwick led the Hogwarts orchestra in playing Tchaikovsky’s “Sleeping Beauty Waltz,” several brightly colored birds circled around her head, and the house elves did a choreographed dance in the background.
She finally reached the head table, and due to her all around perfection, it was only fitting that they allowed her to make a speech and address the students.
“My new friends, I am very excited to be here at Hogwarts. But like a true Mary Sue, I also have a dark mysterious past. It is only fair that I warn you of it now, you have been told that I am the daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange, but there is more to the story” she paused and took a deep breath before announcing, “I am Voldemort’s daughter.”
Voldemort dropped his flask on the ground as his mouth hung open in shock. He stared into space, unable to process this information and comprehend what just happened.
Justinian shook him back to reality and told him sternly, “Look Voldemort, I have no idea if this is true or not, but from one celebrity to another, do not even think about saying or doing anything until you talk to your publicist.”
Voldemort managed to nod, admitting that this was the only reasonable course of action.
Rita Skeeter listened intently and took copious notes as Voldemort explained everything that had transpired.
She then leaned back in her chair and offered her advice, “Ok, this is a tough situation, but we can do some spin control. First of all, you need to release a clear statement to the press that you have never been involved with Bellatrix.”
Voldemort looked down at the floor in embarrassment, “Ummm yeah, about that…”
Rita rolled her eyes in disgust, “Really?!?! Are you serious?!?! Why?!?”
“There’s only so many female Death Eaters, I didn’t have much to pick from,” Voldemort said defensively.
Rita ran some numbers in her head, "So if she's a seventh year now, then wait wasn't Bellatrix in Azkaban? And weren't you...never mind, I don't want to know. But anyway if my numbers are correct you would owe...over 700,000 Galleons in unpaid child support. You're only now just starting to make progress on the millions in damages you owe from the war, so needless to say this would set you back quite a bit."
Voldemort looked stunned, "Well, as far as I know they can't prove I'm the father."
Rita took a deep breath, “Well in that case, we can make it work to our advantage. I believe that any press is good press, and since you really can’t be sure if she’s yours or not there’s only one way to find out…you’re going on the Gilderoy Lockhart Show.”
Voldemort gulped with panic; since his disgraceful exit after one year of teaching at Hogwarts, Gilderoy Lockhart had eventually reestablished himself as the host of a trashy television talk show. His guests often represented the dregs of wizarding society and their various woes, but it was most known for bringing on alleged deadbeat dads to take very public paternity tests.
Voldemort did not like the sound of that, but at this point he saw no other option. The public would have to find out the same question that was burning in his mind…is Voldemort really the father?
Voldemort took a long walk, contemplating in his head all the possible implications of this news. If it turned out he wasn’t the father, then the resulting publicity could only help his career and there would be no harm done. However, if he was in fact the father, that would carry responsibilities; responsibilities that he was not sure if he could handle. For this reason, he was now traveling to talk to a colleague who had dealt with similar issues and could offer some advice; his former flat mate, Darth Vader.
Darth Vader opened the door of his flat to greet his visitor, “A great disturbance in the force has brought you here; I sense much fear and confusion in you, young Riddle.”
Voldemort calmly explained everything that had happened as Vader listened intently.
“I see,” said Vader, “your feelings serve you well, but they may be used against you. This could be the most difficult task you ever face. My own daughter is staying with me now, and I must say it is a delicate task. For example, she has spent the last two hours in her room giving herself this strange hairstyle that looks like she’s wearing earmuffs.”
A t that moment, Princess Leia came walking out into the living room, putting on her utility belt as she prepared to go out.
“Dad, can I borrow the speeder to go out on the town?” she pleaded.
“No, you have to prove you’re responsible enough first,” Vader responded.
“That’s no fair! You let Luke use the speeder!”
“Luke is a trained Jedi knight,” Vader explained.
“You’re so unfair! Why did I even come here?” Leia screamed.
Vader sighed, “I don’t know, why don’t you just go back to your home planet of Alderaan? Oh wait, it’s not there anymore.”
Leia then burst into tears, ran back into her room, and slammed the door.
“Good luck, Riddle,” Vader said resignedly, “You’re going to need it.”
A loud chorus of boos and hisses greeted Voldemort as he walked out onto the stage in front of a live studio audience and took a seat on the couch. Bellatrix and Mary Sue Lestrange were seated on another couch facing opposite, while Gilderoy Lockhart sat between them in the center.
“So, Bellatrix” Lockhart began, “you claim that Voldemort here is the father of your daughter?”
“Yes he is,” said Bellatrix in an accusatory tone, “and he hasn’t paid no child support, and now we’re gonna make him pay.”
Loud applause came from the crowd as well as shouts of “You go girl!” and “Tell him sister!”
Lockhart then turned to Voldemort, “Do you acknowledge that you are the father?”
Voldemort really wasn’t sure, but he knew what the audience expected to hear, and that he had to stick with it.
“No, that’s not my kid.”
The entire crowd booed and hissed, except Justinian Beaverton, who had come for moral support and stood up and clapped.
“I just hope we can all get along and be a happy family,” Mary Sue chimed in, to a chorus of sympathetic “awwwww’s” from the audience.
Lockhart then held out a large envelope and began to open it.
“Well, the moment we’ve all been waiting for is here, according to the results of our paternity test, Voldemort…..is not the father!”
The audience reacted in shock as Voldemort breathed a deep sigh of relief. Justinian ran onto the stage and he and Voldemort engaged in a series of congratulatory high fives and chest bumps.
Mary Sue then turned to Bellatrix, “Mother, you lied to me. I thought I was the most perfect Mary Sue ever, but I needed a dark, mysterious past to make my character arc complete. Being Voldemort’s daughter would have been perfect, but now my whole back story is ruined!”
“Shut up you little brat, I’m going to kill you!” Bellatrix shrieked.
A great rift then opened up in the audience as Molly Weasley came running down with her wand at the ready.
“NOT MY SON-IN-LAW’S GODFATHER’S FIRST COUSIN ONCE REMOVED, YOU BITCH!”
“Not again,” Bellatrix sighed before Molly avada kedavra’d her, to the cheers of the crowd.
When the chaos finally settled down, Lockhart rose to speak again.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I know you’re all wondering who the actual father is. Well I am pleased to announce that our tests have identified the real father as….Peter Pettigrew!”
The audience fell completely silent in shock as a short, rat faced man rose to speak.
“For many years, I, Peter Pettigrew, have been willfully ignored, neglected and abused by fan fiction writers. I’ve read so many Marauder stories, and in all of them, Lily Evans always seems to have two best friends that conveniently get shipped with Sirius and Remus. Meanwhile, poor insignificant Peter is usually left out of the story altogether. I’m not asking to be shipped with Lily or your perfect OC’s or anything, but you would think somebody could throw me a minor character here and there just to even things up. But no, Peter is disgusting, you don’t like Peter, the Marauders never liked him anyway. Well now, I’m not going to take it anymore, because that super-hot Mary Sue over there is my daughter, and I finally have a role in the story. What now, punks? Pettigrew for the win!”
Seeing no other logical option at this point, Peter Pettigrew, Gilderoy Lockhart, Mary Sue, Voldemort, and Justinian all walked to the center of the stage and began to do the “Hogsmeade Style” dance in unison. It was just another day in the crazy life of a fallen dark lord.
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