The next morning, Voldemort woke up bright and early. He yawned widely and leapt out of bed. After hurriedly brushing his teeth and getting dressed in his customary robes of black, he burst into Wormtail's 'bedroom' (which was actually a pile of rags in the cupboard under the stairs) and yelled, "Wormtail! Today is the day I finally put this infernal Muggle creation," (he drew the nose from inside his pocket) "to good use! Now get up!" Without waiting for a reply, he slammed the door shut, causing a nest of spiders to fall onto Wormtail's balding head. Wormtail screamed girlishly and hurried from out of the cupboard wearing only a pair of over-sized red and white polka dot boxer shorts.

Voldemort rounded on him immediately; "What are you doing, Wormtail? Go and make yourself look presentable at once, or I will Crucio those ludicrous underpants all the way to Albania!"

Wormtail trembled and scurried back to the cupboard.

Half an hour later, Wormtail and Voldemort were roaming the Muggle streets, Wormtail looking the most inconspicuous under the guise of Scabbers and hiding in his master's robe pocket.

"Now Wormtail," hissed Voldemort out of the corner of his mouth, "I need to find a suitable victim."

Wormtail could only squeak pathetically in response; he was most displeased at having to share the pocket with Voldemort's old nose.

"Aha!" cried Voldemort in delight, barely able to conceal his glee. "Just my luck! One of the blood traitors!"

And sure enough, rummaging excitedly through a box of seemingly ordinary spark plugs was Arthur Weasley!

"Think how upset Potter and his pals will be when they find out the dear old Muggle lover is no longer with us!" cackled Voldemort.

And so, clutching his wand in one hand, and the fleshy remains of his nose in the other, he advanced upon Mr. Weasley…

'What a miserable day' Arthur Weasley was pondering to himself. The rain was falling thick and fast, clouding up his horn-rimmed glasses and obscuring his vision. He had received a tip-off that these spark-plugs were enchanted to burst into flames whenever a Muggle tried to use them, but they seemed perfectly ordinary to him.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley." said a high, cold voice.

He was speaking in a voice barely louder than a whisper, and yet was still perfectly audible over the sound of the Muggle radio that was blaring out dated music from the next stall.

Arthur slowly turned around, praying he had not heard who he thought he had. But there, stood before him in robes of black, stood Lord Voldemort!

Arthur gasped and dropped the spark plug he was holding. "I-it's you!" he stammered.

"Yes, it's me!" Voldemort replied quietly, feeling rather amused by the blood traitor's obvious discomfort.

"I am a Ministry of Magic employee!" stated Arthur, trying to sound braver than he felt. "I don't think it's wise to approach me when you're the most wanted wizard in the world, do you? I could have you locked up in Azkaban in an instant!"

Voldemort laughed derisively at this sudden show of bravado.

"Now, Now. Don't make this harder for yourself. I think we both know that by the time reinforcements arrive, you will be dead, and I will be far away from here!" he smirked.

"Now, hang on just one minute!-" began Arthur, filling up with dread.

"I have no time for pleasant conversation, Filth" said Voldemort lazily. "I'm sure you and me both want this over with quickly. Avada-"

But before Voldemort could complete the fatal spell, Arthur had grabbed the Muggle radio and, without even thinking about what he was doing, thrown it into the puddle before Voldemort's feet.

There was a deafening scream as the electric shock shot up Voldemort's right leg. Howling in pain, he dropped his wand and his nose into the water. His wand emanated a few pathetic sparks, but the nose lay singed and flattened in the murky puddle; never to be a horcrux.

"NO!" he cried.

The commotion had roused the attention of the Muggles, and Voldemort could see a whole team of policeman advancing upon him. Without knowing how extensive the damage was to his wand, he decided his best bet was to just apparate far away from them all, where he was free to concoct another plan in peace….

Arthur, meanwhile, was sending an owl to his wife.

'You see, Molly, dear. I told you my knowledge about the Muggle world would come in handy one day…'