Lord Voldemort was on his way to visit the muggle prime minister.
Usually, he did not concern himself with muggle affairs. Muggles only had one use, Lord Voldemort was fond of saying, and that was providing him with the amusement of watching them suffer.
Actually, they had two uses. He quite enjoyed muggle music, especially that new girl group called "The Spice Girls." For a while, he had insisted on calling Nagini "Slither Spice"—at least until Slither Spice had informed him in a series of angry hisses that if he called her that one more time she would throw herself headfirst into the fireplace, and he would have to find himself a new horcrux.
For a giant snake, Nagini could be a real bitch sometimes.
Yet even the Spice Girls had not interested him much lately. He had just succeeded in taking over the ministry of magic, and he had much more important things to think about. Finding the Elder Wand, for instance. Or killing Harry Potter. Or how hot Bellatrix had looked in that tight black bustier last week … no, no, definitely killing Harry Potter. That was his top priority. Muggles and their affairs should have to wait.
But earlier that day, when the Death Eaters had gathered at Malfoy Manor for their biweekly Death Eater Conference, Lucius Malfoy had said something interesting.
The meeting had started out normally enough. Voldemort had talked about all of the people he hoped to kill that week. Nagini had slithered across the stone floor and made Wormtail scream like a little girl when she nipped playfully at his feet. Fenrir Greyback had asked if he could eat some of Voledmort's victims, Severus Snape had tentatively suggested that perhaps he didn't need to kill quite so many victims, really, two or three a week would suffice, maybe one, or maybe none at all, and Bellatrix had shushed Severus and breathlessly insisted to Voldmort that if there were any way she could aid him, any way at all, only say the word and she would slaughter millions out of love for him etc., etc.
Voldemort had silenced them all with a deadly glare. He had just been thinking about how useful deadly glares are, and how, now that he had a body again, he really should glare more often, when Lucius Malfoy spoke up.
"M- my Lord," said Malfoy, "forgive me for interrupting, but there is something I thought you ought to know. I have worked at the Ministry of Magic for years, and it's traditional that whenever there is a new Minister of Magic, they alert the muggle prime minister."
"Are you suggesting," Voldemort sneered, "that I should alert the muggle prime minister? That I should speak to a muggle? And not kill him afterwards?" The table of Death Eaters laughed. "How quaint. I think the Ministry's traditions are quite unnecessary given the times we live in. Don't you agree?"
"Yes, yes," said Malfoy, quavering as he spoke, "I only thought, My Lord, that as the muggles are cowering in fear of the supernatural you might want to reveal that it is you they are cowering in fear of. Instead of … someone else." He did not quite meet his master's eye when he said that.
"Someone else?" said Voldemort. "What do you mean by 'someone else'?" He laughed coldly. His followers quickly laughed too. "What do I have to be threatened by? What other wizard, Lucius, could possibly rival my power?"
"Not a wizard," said Malfoy. From a folder, he withdrew a muggle newspaper, its ink fresh, pictures unmoving. "Draco stole it at the end of last year from the Mudblood Granger. Thought you might find it interesting."
Voldemort snatched the paper of out of Lucius' hands. The headline on the front page blared "ARE THESE DISASTERS SIGNS FROM GOD? An Article by the Greatest Investigative Reporter of All Times Buck Williams." Voldemort merely chuckled.
"So I collapse a few bridges, murder a few families, and they claim it is a sign from their muggle deity?" said Voldemort coolly. "How naïve."
"The problem, My Lord," said Narcissa Malfoy, speaking for the first time. "is that the article isn't referring to anything you've done. It's referring to a new disaster. Muggles disappeared into thin air."
"Are you sure they didn't just disapparate?"
"There were far too many of them, and they were mostly muggle children," said Lucius. He pointed to the article. "All of the muggle children disappeared simultaneously."
"A very strong piece of magic," said Narcissa. "It threw the muggle world into a bit of chaos, as you might imagine."
"Why did you not bring this to my immediate attention?" said Voldmort. He was no longer smiling. What wizard alive had the kind of power to destroy all of the muggle children? Not even Grindelwald at his height could do something like that. Albus Dumbledore might have been strong enough, but he was dead. Voldemort had seen to that.
"We had hoped at first that it was yours, but when a few weeks went by without you mentioning it…"
Voldemort was silent. The air around him grew chilled. He watched as the Death Eaters at the table shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
"What wizard," Voldemort began in a low voice, "what insolent wizard has dared to try to outdo me? Do they not know that of which I am capable?"
"My Lord," Bellatrix gasped, her ample bosom heaving, "Such an outrage! Please allow me the honor of finding and tearing the culprit limb from lim-"
"No!" snapped Voldemort. Not even Bellatrix's ample bosom could cheer him up right now. "I will deal with them myself! But first," he glared at Lucius, "I will pay a visit to the muggle Prime Minister. As you suggested." Before anyone could protest, he had disapparated in a whirl of black.
The Prime Minister was a squat man with a wide face, a nose that looked like a squashed potato, and thick head of brown hair that was clearly a tupee. He was typing on his computer and didn't look up when Voldemort arrived.
"Hello Muggle," said Voldemort darkly.
"Hello." The muggle looked up at him then and smiled, unconcerned, causing his broad face to grow even wider. "I suppose it's my turn now, is it?"
"What?" said Voldemort.
"To be taken," said the muggle.
"What in Merlin's name are you blabbering on about?" snapped Voldemort.
"You're not an alien?" said the muggle, a perplexed look coming over his face. "I'm sorry. I assumed you were an alien and that you'd taken the others and were coming back for the rest of us. It was the whole not-having-a-nose thing …"
"Now see here," roared Voldemort, "I am Lord Voldemort, the Most Powerful Dark Wizard of All Time! I don't know what wizard it was who made the others disappear, but, as soon as I gain the Elder Wand, what I can do to your world will make that seem like child's play! I already control the Ministry of Magic! Soon I will control the muggle world, and you and your weakling muggle followers will cower at my feet! You will learn to fear my very name! I will rule uncontested!"
The Prime Minister cleared his throat awkwardly. He wondered what a muggle was, but now didn't seem like the best time to ask. "That sounds like a fine plan. But you, uh… you might want to take it up with the ruler of the world first."
"What ruler? Your world doesn't have a ruler?"
"Sure we do," said the Prime Minister. "Secretary General Nicolae Carpathia. Ever since the disappearances, he's sort of run the place from New York. Haven't you been following the news?"
Bloody hell. Now he was going to have to talk to another muggle.
"I will speak with your muggle ruler," said Voldemort shortly. "Do not expect his rule to be very long." He started to go, then stopped. "And by the way, my nose is fine!"
The Prime Minister watched as the alien vanished into thin air. He calmly removed a bottle of brandy from one of his drawers, poured himself a glass, downed the glass, paused thoughtfully for a minute, then chugged the bottle. It had been one of those days.
A/N - At some point during my deep and intellectual musings, I realized that both Lord Voldemort and Nicolae Carpathia rose to power in the summer of 1996. After that revelation, this story just had to be written. More chapters coming soon!