WARNING:Harsh language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e., smut), and crude humor.
Author's Note: This story is a broad parody with over-the-top humor (most of it crude and sexual) and OOC (Out-of-Character) actions. To reiterate: this is a parody with a great amount of sex jokes and sex scenes.
Polygamous relationships ahead (multiple partners). If this concept bothers you, don't read. Also, major—and I do mean M-A-J-O-R—Ron bashing.
Inspired by the classic Star Trek episode "Mirror, Mirror."
On a stony outcropping at the base of a hill beneath an ancient castle, thirteen black-robed figures stood in a circle. Inside this circle, etched into the stone floor, was a ten-foot-wide pentagram drawn in human blood.
The full moon shone overhead, bathing everything in silvery light. The unseasonably cold night air made their skin prickle. And the dark magic that flowed freely around the pentagram made their hearts race with excitement.
(Well… most of their hearts.)
"Are you certain it was supposed to be human blood?" one robed man asked in a nervous whine. "Aren't these things usually done with goat's blood? I mean, human sacrifices make me edgy."
"Be quiet, Wormtail," Lord Voldemort snapped in his raspy, high-pitched, almost girlish voice. "I must concentrate!"
The sickly pale, snake-like man stepped carefully into the pentagram, chanting under his breath. Held high above his head was a glimmering sapphire the size of a potato, sparkling in the eerie moonlight.
He lowered it carefully, placing it slightly off-center within the pentagram.
"Um, pardon, sire," one Death Eater said meekly, "but the Summoning Sapphire is not in the exact center of the pentagram."
"I know that, fool!" Voldemort snapped savagely. "This pentagram is a map to infinite realities. Every inch of this design is a gateway to a different world. The placement of the stone determines from which reality I summon my duplicate."
As he lectured, Voldemort discreetly nudged the sapphire into the exact center with his foot.
It was a good place to start.
But he wasn't about to admit that.
"How dare you question me, dolt," he snarled—still somehow sounding girlish.
Turning back to the ritual, Voldemort raised his voice.
"Hear me, oh masters of time, space, and anything else that might be listening! Open the gates between worlds so that I may call forth my brother from another realm!"
The air crackled around the pentagram.
Success!
"Come forth, my equal! Join me in this world so that we may rule together!"
In a blink—
The blood forming the pentagram vanished in a puff of smoke.
Silence.
Voldemort blinked. Then looked left. Then right.
"…There's no one here!" he shrieked. "Why is there no one here?!"
The Death Eaters stood frozen, none daring to speak.
Voldemort pointed randomly.
"You! Explain!"
"Um… it went poof?" the unfortunate wizard offered.
"Crucio!"
The man collapsed, screaming in agony.
Voldemort turned to the next unlucky soul.
"Explain. Why is my duplicate not standing beside me? And if your answer is as idiotic as his, you will beg for death."
"I am but an insignificant bug before your vast knowledge, Master," said Severus Snape carefully. "But if I may speculate… perhaps the reality you chose does not contain a version of you. It is possible that the world never knew the… privilege of your existence."
"…As loathsome as that thought is," Voldemort mused, "it is possible."
He straightened.
"This is merely a setback. We will perform the ritual again. Gibbs—prepare another virgin. We require fresh blood."
"…Wait. A virgin?" Gibbs asked nervously. "I thought you said 'untouched.' Nobody said anything about virgins."
"You imbecile!" Voldemort screeched—now sounding like a tantruming six-year-old. "What did you think 'untouched' meant?!"
"You know… not touched," Gibbs said, beginning to sweat. "I used Levicorpus to bring them here so nobody touched them—"
"Crucio!"
The screaming resumed.
"You're fortunate the ritual failed!" Voldemort snarled. "Virgin blood is essential! Your mistake could have caused completely unpredictable results!"
"Crucio!"
After another round of screams, Lucius Malfoy spoke up.
"Sire, the solution is simple. We just need to find a virgin."
"Oh, brilliant," Voldemort sneered. "Do you have any idea how rare those are in 1996? You'd have better luck finding a Crumple-Horned Snorkack!"
"…We could use Wormtail," Malfoy suggested.
"…Point taken."
Voldemort turned slowly toward the trembling man.
"Wait—no!" Wormtail squeaked. "I'm not a virgin!"
Laughter erupted.
"All right, very funny," Malfoy said.
"I'm serious!" Wormtail insisted. "Ask Bellatrix!"
All eyes turned toward Bellatrix Lestrange.
She said nothing.
"…Bellatrix?" asked her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, stunned. "How could you—with him?"
She shrugged.
"I was drunk and randy. He was the only man around."
"…Man?" Voldemort asked.
"…Man-ish," she corrected.
Lucius sighed. "Fine. Then Snape."
Snape coughed and glanced at Bellatrix.
"…Don't tell me—" Rodolphus began.
"It was dark," she said flatly. "I couldn't see who it was."
"…Have you slept with all of them?" he asked, horrified.
"Not at once," she said casually. "Four or five, sure. Six once—but they were recruits. They don't count."
"…Why?"
"I spent ten years in Azkaban," she said, picking at her nails. "I had time to make up for."
"…Enough!" Voldemort snapped. "Go find me virgins so I can summon my alternate self and conquer this world!"
As the Death Eaters scattered—
"…Does the world even have knees?" one muttered.
-- Line Break --
Voldemort had warned of "completely unpredictable results."
The next morning—
One of those "results" woke up in a very bad mood.
In a house in Little Whinging.
To Be Continued...