A/N: Okay, so after writing two (starting on three) drama/horror filled stories about The OC, I seriously needed a break. So Evadne's "Once Upon A Freakin' Time" (which is absolutely hilarious, it made me laugh so hard I cried.) inspired me to write Harry Potter comedy. I kind of borrowed her idea of hilarious Death Eaters that did anything but eat death… sort if. Ish. It developed from that.

So anyways, here's my stab at it. Please don't kill me if it sucks.

A/N: Reposting this chapter so it's correct grammatically.

The young woman, Marissa, nervously followed the blonde man inside the office. She had no idea why she was here. There she had been, flipping though the Yellow Pages in search of a suitable plumber –honestly, it was way too difficult to unclog one's own toilet- when a huge pink advertisement seemed to pop out of nowhere. It read:

Do you believe that only the pure should live?

Do you think that all Muggles deserve to die?

Are you a pureblood?

Are you exceptional at making friendship bracelets?

If yes, then do we have an exciting job opportunity for you!

Come be a part of the exclusive Death Eaters!

You'll love the job so much that you'll want to pay us!

And anyone is welcome (Mudbloods and half-bloods excluded)!

Call us to find out more on this exciting opportunity at

1-800-328-3384

Or, contact our boss at 1-800-867-4353

Marissa wasn't exactly sure who the Death Eaters were; she had heard them mentioned once or twice. She was pretty sure that they were a wizard musical group in England. She had heard that they played loud, depressing rock music. And as much as she loved loud rock music, depressing just wasn't her thing. But she did need a job… and she was pretty good at making friendship bracelets….

So she had called the number, and arranged an appointment at their so-called "headquarters". And that's how she had found herself in front of a building emitting an ominous air of certain death, the exterior blacker than a Dark Lord's soul.

Somewhat wishing she hadn't come, Marissa tentatively knocked on the door. Immediately, it whooshed open, and a man in black hooded robes grabbed her arm and whisked her indoors.

She realized, at once, that the sinister façade of the building was simply a cover-up. In the main hall, the walls were painted a lovely shade of lavender, there was a clean white rug under her feet, and windows, albeit with the shades drawn, were spread amongst the hall.

The man in the robes pulled down his hood, and, she realized, he was wearing a sweatshirt, not an evil-looking robe. Long blonde hair fell down his face, and icy blue eyes met hers as he shook her hand.

"Oh, hello! You must be that girl who applied for the um… er… position! Hi, I'm Lucius Malfoy, pleased to meet you. Oh, you're going to love it here. We have so much fun."

"What exactly do you do?" she asked, somewhat taken aback by Lucius' vivacious behavior.

"We…er…are currently… mmm… experimenting with different, hmm… methods of removal of the unworthy."

"Come again?"

"We're a law firm."

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"Now, do you fill all the requirements?" Lucius asked a few minutes later, as they sat down in his office.

"Um, what are they?"

"Are you a pureblood?"

"Yeah. Why does that matter?"

Lucius fell off his chair.

"Why does that matter? WHY DOES THAT MATTER?" he asked, picking himself up. "Honestly! I thought a pureblood would know better! Could you have a Mudblood Death Eater? Of course not! We're Death Eaters- we eat death, for goodness's sakes! The skies would fall down! The world would explode! The oceans would flood! My hair would get wavy! Blood is important. Duh."

Marissa wasn't exactly sure she still wanted to work there, but she needed the money. "I was joking, of course. I'm a pureblood. Which… is important…" she trailed off.

"Exactly. Next, do you believe that all Muggles and Muggleborns deserve to die?"

"Um… sure."

"Finally, the most important question. Can you make friendship bracelets?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty good. Why?"

Lucius sighed. "Well, all those Muggles movie starts are walking around with those cute little Kabbalah red-string bracelets. And Voldemort saw them in a Muggles magazine he stole from Potter's ugly Mudblood friend, and he went wild and said we had to have something like that, so he told Peter to braid us some bracelets, but Peter was hopeless at it, can't even braid, that little nitwit, and of course then he went to Bellatrix, because she's a girl, and oh my goodness, she almost Avada'd him when he suggested that making bracelets were "woman's work", and we all know how Bella gets when she's angry so we decided to hire someone to do it for us."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, anyways, I guess you qualify, so I'll have someone take you on the rounds of the office. Hmm… Crabbe or Goyle, maybe… no… it's three o'clock, they'll be busy chasing the ice-cream man… Snape's busy, I believe, he's spying at some Order meeting, Bella might be in a mood after the bracelet fiasco, better not risk it. Oh, well, I'll just take you around!"

Marissa slumped slightly at the thought of spending any more time with him. She couldn't stand continuality energetic people; she hoped that Lucius would never, ever drink coffee.

He led her down the hall, and knocked on the first door on the left. "Walden? Can we come in?"

No response came, so Lucius slowly opened a door that bore the sign Walden Macnair, Death Eater and President of The Shiny Axe Club.

A man, who Marissa took to be Macnair, was sitting at his desk, playing a board game. At first glance it seemed to be Clue, but upon further inspection it was, quite obviously Harry Potter: Mystery at Hogwarts. He looked at his cards, moved a blue ghost five steps towards the Great Hall, then looked at another set of cards and moved a green ghost six steps up the stairs.

"Ah, Macnair!" Lucius said, groaning. "Are you playing that ridiculous game again? And with yourself, no less?"

Macnair looked up, the expression on his face one of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Um… No. I was… um… watching it for someone. And I peeked at their cards. Just because I was bored. Yeah. That's it."

Lucius sighed. "Fine, Macnair, go find some animal and behead it."

Macnair jumped up. "Are you sure?"

"You have my permission."

"Oh, boy!" he exclaimed, pulling a machete off the wall and hurrying out the door, nearly scraping Marissa in his haste.

"Well, that's one down." Lucius pulled the door shut behind them and knocked on a door with a sign that read Jugson/Travers/ Nott.

"Some of our offices are pretty big, so people share. Nott was not- Ha! Nott… not! Get it? Ha!" Lucius laughed. "Anyways, Nott was not too thrilled about sharing an office with Travers, ever since Voldemort let Travers kill the McKinnon's. It's long story but apparently Nott had his heart set on them, and Travers has been rubbing it in his face for about seventeen years. Every now and then, you'll see a desk or two on fire in there. But," Lucius peered through a small window in the door, "it appears that none of them are in right now. I think I heard something about them going to a craft store to buy some string for our bracelets.

"Next up," he continued, "we've got Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband, Rodolphus, and Ro's brother Rabastan's room. The guys are most likely not there right now, on account of Bella's mood, but we can go in. Just stay a couple feet away from her at all times."

He opened the door to a dark room. A woman was sitting in a rolling chair, scribbling madly on a piece of paper and muttering to herself about sadomasochism.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Lucius cleared his throat and Bellatrix looked up.

"How dare you come in my office without permission!" she screeched, standing up so fast her chair toppled over. "Lucius, you have exactly twenty seconds to get out of here before I curse the- who is she?" She stopped her rant and stared icily at the new employee.
"Now, Bella, calm down. This is our newest worker, Marissa. She's the one making the friendship bracelets."

Bellatrix's expression softened at once. "Oh! Yes! Finally! Hi, Marissa, I'm Bellatrix. So you're making the bracelets? I have to tell you, please make them pink. It's such a beautiful color and it matches so with our robes. I adore pink and black."

"That's very nice, Bella, but I really must introduce her to the other Death Ea-"

"Shut up, Lucius. I am talking to her, not you. You have more than enough time. Just because you want to finish your stupid tour so you can go to the staff dinner meeting and brag about Draco being first in something, which isn't even true, mind you, that Mudblood Granger beats your son in everything. It must be so disappointing to have a son that's stupider than a Muggleborn."

"He's your nephew, you know," Lucius sniffed.

"Just because we're related doesn't mean I have to like him. You're married to my sister, and I hate you."

"Really, Marissa, we must keep going. I'm sure Bella would love to spend more time with you, but it can wait. We'll be leaving. Now."

"Bye, dear," Bellatrix called as Marissa left her office. "Come visit!"

"Why doesn't she like you?" Marissa asked, as Bella's door was hastily slammed shut.

"It was twenty years ago… no idea why she's still angry… all I ever did was bewitch her wedding carriage to drop her and Rodolphus in a lake… Ah hah! Here we are. Our recreation room."

Marissa stepped inside a lavishly furnished room, and noticed the room was filled with people.

"First off," Lucius said, leading her over to two men that looked practically identical to each other, "these are the Lestrange guys. This is Rodolphus, Bella's husband, and Rabastan, his brother.

"Hi," they said in unison, and immediately resumed their conversation.

"All we need is a variation."

"We can't do it."

"Come on. We can do it."

"It's impossible to make it."

It's impossible to tell you two apart, Marissa thought.

"What about… Avada Cruimperio?"

"It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Rodolphus. You can't torture, control and kill someone at the same time. Then they'd be dead."

"Isn't that what we want?" asked Rodolphus.

"Yes, but if they're dead, you can't torture or control them."

"Oh," said Rodolphus.

Another Death Eater joined them.

"Hey, Mulcy," Rabastan (or was it Rodolphus- yes, it was Rodolphus) said, sliding over on the couch to let the man join them.

"If you ever call me Mulcy again, I will have Macnair chop off your head," the man said. He noticed Marissa standing there and narrowed his eyes.

"Hi," she said quickly, hoping to avoid being Crucio'd. "I'm Marissa. I work here now, I guess."

"She the bracelet girl?" he asked.

Lucius nodded. "Marissa, this is Mulciber."

Rodolphus finally acknowledged her. "Riss- can I call you Riss?"

"Um, sure."

"Riss, do you think it's a good idea to combine all the Unforgivable Curses into one?"

"Um…"

"Rissa- can I call you Rissa?"

"I thought it was Riss…"

"Rissa, you can be honest. Just tell me if you think it's stupid."

"Well, if she doesn't think it's stupid, then she is," Rabastan snapped.

"Is what?" Rodolphus looked confused.

"Stupid!"

"That's not nice! Marissy- can I call you Marissy?-, he called you stupid. He also thinks that my idea is stupid. I don't. So go with the not-stupid."

"I didn't call her stupid yet. I said that if she agreed with you, then she was stupid."

"Well, Missa- can I call you Missa?-, what do you think?"

"Um… Oh, look. Who are they?" Marissa asked, pointing at the two people walking through the door.

"Them? That's Avery and Dolohov. Voldy's kinda mad at Ave; after all I mean he did screw up the whole prophecy thing a couple years ago, and D. Hov is one of Voldy's right-hand men."

"Voldy?" Rabastan asked incredulously. "You have got to be kidding me. First all those stupid names for Marissa," he stressed her proper name, "and I'll admit "Ave" wasn't bad. "D. Hov" just crossed the line, Ro. And Voldy… I can't even begin to fathom how long he'd curse you for if he heard that."

Marissa noticed, for the first time, that what appeared to be a PS2 and a TV were in the wall, and a man was playing something on the console.

The man threw down his controller.

"Dammit, I can never pass that damn special moves! I don't even need them, and I can't learn them! Avada Kedavra!" he screamed, pointing his wand at the television. A green light filled the room, and the next second, there was a gaping hole in the wall where the TV had been mere seconds ago.

Mulciber cursed. "That is the fifth TV we've lost this month!"

Marissa didn't need to be told that the wizard who had just killed the television was Voldemort.

"Wormtail!" the Dark Lord yelled.

A rat-like looked man nervously approached him. "Y-yes, My Lord?"

"Go down to Best Buy and get us a new TV."

"Yes, My Lord." Wormtail turned to leave.

"Wait!" Voldemort thundered.

"Yes, My Lord?" Wormtail shook with fear.

"I've got a 5 percent off coupon."

Wormtail took the coupon and hurriedly left the room.

Voldemort's eyes swept the room, and landed on Marissa.

"Ah hah! You must be the bracelet maker!"

She nodded.

"We've got to talk, then." He patted the ground next to him, and Marissa hesitantly sat down.

"First up, we've got to get you fitted for some cloaks. You've got to go with us to all our outings, in the event that a bracelet broke. You don't have to kill anyone unless you want to, of course, and if I give you the go-ahead, by all means, blast someone the hell out of there.

"Next, about the bracelets. I don't particularly care what they look like, as long as they are cool. Somewhat scary would be a nice touch, if you can do it."

"I can make them black and red, if you want," she suggested.

"That's fine. We'll need bracelets for everyone you met today, their immediate family, and a few other people you didn't come across. We need about twenty-five, for starters, that covers the Lestranges, the Malfoys, the Crabbes, the Goyles, the Notts, Avery, Macnair, Mulciber, Snape, Wormtail, Jugson, Travers, Dolohov, and me."

"Right."

"How long do you think that'll take you?"

"If I don't stop, between twelve hours and a day."

"Oh, no, we only work from nine to five, so you have as long as you need during that time to work. We need them don in a couple weeks, and after they're done, we'll find something else for you to do, like- Snape!"

"Excuse me?"

"No, not you," Voldemort said.

Severus Snape had just walked in the door, with a grim look of defeat on his face.

"What is it, Snape?" Voldemort asked.

"The Order… they've won."

"What?" Voldemort gasped. "Surely you don't mean…"

"I do."

Voldemort leaned his head back. "Noooooooooooooooo!"

"Yes."

"What?" Marissa asked.

Snape looked like he was going to cry. "The Order did it before us."

"Did what?"

"They've got friendship bracelets."