So, eleven twenty and I'm meant to be doing homework. Come up with a random idea, write it down and figure, what the heck, just post it. It's short, it's stupid, tell me what you think. Flame if you want. I'm not really that flammable.

WARNING: DO NOT TAKE SERIOUSLY, I'M PROBABLY NUTS.

I own Harry Potter. Well, I own all seven books, eight movies and three Golden Trio bobblehead dolls, anyway. Somehow, I doubt that counts.

BACKFIRE

Lord Voldemort raised his wand.

"Avada Kedavra."

Lily Potter screamed as the curse connected, then fell to the ground lifelessly. Voldemort laughed, cold and high, twirling his wand majestically.

"Say goodbye, child of prophecy," he hissed gleefully, aiming the yew wand at the infant, who was burbling uncertainly, staring down at the cadaver of his mother. "Avada Kedavra!"

And there was a flash of green light, then he knew no more.

And when Peter Pettigrew came by minutes later, he wondered why his master's wand was pointing away from little Harry's crib.

Oh, the many, many dangers of wand-twirling.