
Moldy Voldy
Harry Potter the boy who lived. Why didn't my killing curse work on him. I practiced for weeks trying to get it good enough and that still didn't work. I need to find some more recruits but where would i look?
That is when i found an owl tapping on my window. I take the letter and it flies away. There was a ball tonight. Perfect. I will find the perfect recruits.
Later that night...I don't know what to wear. I need to find something that distracts people from the fact that i don't have a nose, but
--------------------
what would it be? Hmm let's see what I have in here.... Ah perfect. And so Voldemort went to the ball with a moustache covering his nose. I hope someone comments on my robes, I made Wormtail work very hard in getting these made. They compliment my pale skin perfectly.
"Wow, those robes sure do compliment your pale skin perfectly." A pretty voice said.
"Thank you, my slave made them for me." I replied in my scratchy voice.
The one who had complimented me was a girl, about 19, with a gorgeous blue dress (not as gorgeous as my robes but okey).
"Say, you wouldn't happen to be a witch by any chance?"
"What, a witch? No sorry, I don't know what you mean? But my fairy Good mother made the dress for me!"
Ah, so a muggle then. A pity. A pretty muggle though. Maybe she could be useful.
"Would you want to get out of here young girl?"
"No actually I really want to stay at this ball-"But She didn't get to reply before I apparated away with her.
--------------------
"What's going on? Where are we?" She asked in a hushed, but frantic tone.
"Do not worry my dear. You'll be fine. I need your help," I assured. It didn't seem to work.
"WORMTAIL!" I called for my man servant. He wiggled into the room in his animagus form. A rat. Somehow, Cinderella wasn't startled, but intrigued.
"You speak to animals too?" She asked innocently. I glared at Wormtail, making sure he knew to stay a rat. I needed to impress her.
"We'll yes, in fact, I do!" I grinned cunningly. Her face seemed to light up. 'What a beautiful creature.' I thought to myself.
"Do they help you with clothing too? Or any chores?" She asked, genuinely intrigued. That made my heart flip a little. I'd never had someone have a conversation with me like this. She had not an ounce of fear in her tone.
"Actually, yes. He helped me style my mustache and picked out the fabric for these robes." I said looking deep into her icy blue orbs. She bit her lip.
"Oh my! Mine as well. What's this fellow's name here? Wormtail I believe you said?" She inquired.
"Actually that's Peter," I said wanted to impress her. Maybe she could bring out a nicer side of me. "Wormtail is his nickname."