Maybe he just likes summer breaks as well. Then he gets back in the fall, and is all like “oh shit I need a new plan to kill that kid, uh…maybe I can send a man rat to sleep with his best friend? It’ll take me at least until the spring to get that going, though.”
“M-my Lord…” “Yess? What is it Pettigrew?”
“Y-your appearance, my Lord… w-won’t the others ask questions about w-where you’ve been?” “Oh pleasse. Like I’m the first Dark Lord to get a tan.”
“I was… I was r-referring to y-your Hawaiian shirt, my Lord.” “…” “Look, my luggage was delayed at Gatwick and they said they’d deliver it today. Okay?”
Maybe he just likes summer breaks as well. Then he gets back in the fall, and is all like “oh shit I need a new plan to kill that kid, uh…maybe I can send a man rat to sleep with his best friend? It’ll take me at least until the spring to get that going, though.”
“M-my Lord…”
“Yess? What is it Pettigrew?”
“Y-your appearance, my Lord… w-won’t the others ask questions about w-where you’ve been?”
“Oh pleasse. Like I’m the first Dark Lord to get a tan.”
“I was… I was r-referring to y-your Hawaiian shirt, my Lord.”
“…”
“Look, my luggage was delayed at Gatwick and they said they’d deliver it today. Okay?”
Voldemort’s plans are always akin to Doctor Evil’s. Needlessly complicated, and easily thwarted.
“I want sharks with friggin’ wands on their heads! Is that too much to ask?!”
Are they at least ill-tempered sea bass?