Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy the first chapter of this story. I wrote it when I had a cold...fun fun! If you like it, it's got more chapters! By the way, I still don't have a beta. It's just me and myself editing, so don't expect 100 percent perfection! Reviews are great, constructive criticism is better!

Disclaimer: I, of course, do not own Harry Potter, nor any other characters in this story. I only own the plot.

Bold: Sound effects (used to be asterisk's in Word)

Lord Voldemort had always prided himself on being above muggle things. He was, after all, the greatest dark lord in history (or, at least, that's what he told himself to get to sleep at night.) He had never driven a car, shopped at a store, or anything like that. He was a dark lord, of course, the darkest dark lord there was. He didn't have time for daily muggle things, including colds.

True, Lord Voldemort may have lured himself into thinking that he had nothing to fear from muggle sickness, but that all changed when he woke up one morning. It was like any other morning. He'd get up, eat breakfast, and make diabolical plans while his Death Eaters worshiped his every move. Maybe, for some afternoon recreation, he'd torture some muggles. However, today didn't go as planned from the moment he woke. He discovered that he could not breathe out of his nose, and his throat hurt every time he swallowed. Upon touching his face, he found that he felt, quite literally, like he was on fire. His first assumption being that he was dying, he screamed at the top of his lungs.

At his scream, Lord Voldemort had expected the room to be flooded with Death Eaters, all groveling on the floor and begging not to be murdered by him. To his dismay, the only person who turned up (after a good deal of time had passed) was Wormtail. Needless to say, this would not have been Voldemort's first choice.

"Y-yes, My Lord?" the man squeaked, kneeling on the floor. Voldemort did not reply, but simply beckoned to him in the way that he had seen old frail men in movies beckon to their family before they died.

The look on Wormtail's face was one of pure horror, but nevertheless, he shuffled closer. As soon as he was within reach, Voldemort grabbed Wormtail's forearm and pressed his index finger to the Dark Mark.

Surely this would cause thousands of Death Eaters to come to his aid, all trying to suck up to him. He looked around the room expectantly, not noticing as Wormtail shuffled out of there so fast that he might have been running a marathon. Once more, the room was totally empty. Sighing a sigh that only a man who thought he had been neglected on his deathbed could sigh, he closed his eyes and leaned back upon the pillows. It would certainly be a shock to his Death Eaters when they found Voldie-Corpse lying on his bed.

However, just as he had been contemplating all the things he had never accomplished in his life, he heard two popping noises come from within the room. Opening his eyes, thinking that it was, perhaps, the Grim Reaper coming to take him to the Hogwarts in the Sky, he was surprised to find two of his Death Eaters standing there.

Both had their masks on, so he was not immediately able to tell who they were, but with the way that they both threw themselves at his feet, he could more or less guess which two had come to his aid. Lord Voldemort sat up slowly. The Death Eater on the right spoke. "My Lord, you have called us?" came the voice of Lucius Malfoy.

Voldemort nodded, determined to make his death announcement as dramatic as possible. "You may stand up now." He commanded, still trying to build a moment of suspense. Both Death Eaters rose, pulling off their masks, and his suspicion that both his most loyal, overly-devoted Death Eaters had come to his aid was proven. Voldemort did not speak for a moment, simply rose from his bed and began pacing around the room, looking out the window every so often. Perhaps feeling that maybe he had lost his train of thought, Bellatrix, devotee number 1, prompted "Was there something you wished to tell us?"

Lord Voldemort nodded slowly and lay back down on his bed, all the better to deliver the news. "Lucius, Bellatrix," he began, "I……am……." Here he gave a great sigh. "….dying." The news seemed to reach them both slowly, for they stood there staring at him for several moments, before realization dawned on their faces.

"My Lord!" shrieked Bellatrix, and she flung herself at him, weeping. Voldemort, not knowing quite what to do, just sat there watching over the top of her head as Lucius was apparently still trying to figure out what he had said. Voldemort cleared his throat. "I'm dying, Lucius." He repeated slowly. This declaration only increased the volume of Bellatrix's sobs.

"If you're dying, I'll die too!" she cried, pulling her wand out of her robe and pointing it at herself. Voldemort considered for a brief moment how much of a thrill he'd get from watching this, but decided against it at the last second.

"No." he said, pulling the wand away from her. "If you die, then no one will be there to mourn my death." Lucius, silent until now, said "I'd be there, My Lord!"

Voldemort sighed. This was not how he had imagined his great, dramatic announcement would play out. He had expected weeping. He had expected thousands of people falling at his feet, begging for him to be saved from death. Never mind the fact that, up until an hour ago, he thought he was perfectly healthy, he still had this great scenario playing in his mind. Now, as he glanced around the room at Lucius and Bellatrix, the former looking like he was trying to work something out in his head and the latter crumpled on the floor, still crying, he wondered where all his other friends were. Yes, Voldemort lived in a world where he thought everyone was his friend. He hadn't yet faced the cruel reality that almost everyone either hated him or feared him.

Restraining himself from just Avada Kedavra-ing the two Death Eaters, he spoke. "We must discuss my funeral plans." At these words, Bellatrix squeaked and sobbed even harder. "Bella, shut up." He snapped, closing his eyes to ward off his oncoming headache.

"My Lord," came Lucius's voice "Your voice sounds a little odd. Are you sure you're dying?"

"Lucius, it is merely my death closing in on me. Don't question Lord Voldemort."

Still, Lucius walked closer to Voldemort, picking Bellatrix up by the arm as he went by. Before the word "crucio" could escape his mouth, Voldemort felt a hand on his forehead, and looked up to see that it was Lucius's.

"You're not dying, My Lord." came his voice, a few moments later. "You just have a cold."

Lord Voldemort yanked Lucius's hand off his forehead and glared at the man. How dare Lucius ruin his great, dramatic death! Lord Voldemort have a cold? It was nonsense! Sure, he had heard of colds, but never ever did he think he could contract such a filthy muggle disease! With thoughts of just killing Lucius right there and now flitting through his mind, he asked "How do you know?"

Lucius sighed like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Draco is always telling stories about little Mudbloods at Hogwarts and how they are always contracting these illnesses." He replied, and then he realized how that sounded.

"Are you calling Lord Voldemort a Mudblood?" Lord Voldemort snarled, reaching for his wand. Lucius was backing away, looking frightened. "Cruci…a….a…achooooooo!!!!!" Voldemort sneezed, preventing himself from casting the Cruciatis Curse. "Curse this cold!!!" he howled and soon his howling turned in to coughing.

"Lucius, cough, you wouldn't hack hack happen to know sneeze how to get rid of sniff a cold, would you?"

Lucius, still looking beyond relieved that he had not been Crucio'ed into oblivion, replied "Of course I do, My Lord, and I will make you well again!"

At this declaration, Bellatrix, who had been hovering behind Malfoy for this whole event, cried "No, My Lord, I will make you well again!"

Lucius spun around and glared at her. "Excuse me, Bellatrix, but I believe that I already have the problem taken care of."

"Well, excuse me, Lucius, but I can handle the problem just as well as you. Probably even better." she shot back.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"That's too bad, Bella, because I was just on my way to go to the store." Lucius retorted, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Yeah, sure you were, and I was just on my way to give Harry Potter a hug." she sneered, evidently reaching for her wand.

"Have fun with that, then. Give him my regards."

This bickering may have gone on for a matter of days, but at that moment, Voldemort sneezed again and yelled "WILL YOU TWO JUST SHUT UP? I DON'T CARE WHO MAKES ME WELL, AS LONG AS ONE OF YOU DOES!" This yelling caused Voldemort to lapse into a spell of coughing and the two Death Eaters chose this moment to grab their masks and escape out of the room.

Once in the hallway, Lucius and Bellatrix leaned against the opposite walls, looking at each other.

"I have no idea how to make him well."

"Me neither."