AN: I don't own Harry Potter or Buffy the Vampire Slayer
"Name's Spike. I hear you're recruiting for some quality violence."
"Indeed so. I am preparing a crusade. First we will purify our own blood, then we will crush the muggles underfoot."
"Well I'm all for purity of blood. You ever tasted somebody that was on steroids? Yech. But who are the muggles."
"Those with no touch of magic."
"What, all of them? Have you seen their armies? And what about Manchester United? You gonna crush them too?"
"Who are they and why would I care?"
"They're the best bloody football team in the world is all. I'm not gonna fight for a world where I can't watch football, at least on the telly."
"Football, ah yes, muggle athletics.... We will replace it with quidditch and quadpot. They are far superior. And we will ensure vampire-friendly seating for daytime games."
"Well, that's something. And what about cigarettes and whiskey? You got wizards to make those?"
"It would be beneath the dignity of pure-blooded wizards to manufacture such trifles. We will not exterminate the muggles, but enslave them. They will make these things in abundance."
"Slaves don't do good work, though. Darla was always telling stories about that. I mean, sure, a smoke is just a smoke, but making good whiskey takes pride. And then there's art. Would Frank Sinatra have sung if you were in charge? Or those geniuses who make passions? No deal, mate, a world under you just doesn't sound fun. I reckon I'll fight on the other side. See you on the battlefield."* *
"I am Gachnar, Lord of Nightmares! Your enemies will tremble before me!"
Unfortunately (except for those enemies), Crabbe chose that moment to enter with the latest financial reports. He kept his eyes on his lord, and therefore didn't notice the demon underfoot.
"Crabbe you imbecile," Voldemort cut himself off. No use shouting about what couldn't be mended. "Ah well, I doubt they really would have trembled anyway."* *
"Am I qualified to fight your enemies? Qualified? I am beyond qualified. I am beyond power. I am a god. I am, you know, I don't think there's a human word fabulous enough to describe me -"
"If we could get to the point-"
"RUDE! Don't talk when people more amazing than you are talking. Where was I? Oh right, the point, which is: do you have my key? I mean, I don't want to be in this filthy world fighting these filthy wars..."
After half an hour of failing to get a word in edgewise, Voldemort left Glorificous ranting at empty space.* *
"Mr. Nott, do I understand correctly that you invited this 'Adam 314' to join my army?"
"Yes, my lord. You said to invite those who inspire fear, and all I spoke to in California fear him. If I have displeased you I offer my most humble apologies."
"Do you know what this creature is?"
"No, my lord. It is most secretive."
"It is a hybrid. Part human, part demon, and part muggle-made machine! How could such a creature be a champion of purity?"
"I beg your forgiveness my lord. I did not know. I will cancel the invitation."
"Don't bother. It's already been slain by its own enemies."
"Perhaps I should reach out to those enemies?"
"No, you should not." Voldemort shuddered at the thought of inviting the slayer into his headquarters. "Definitely not."* *
After considerable negotiation, one tribe of Fyarl demons agreed to join the cause. They insisted on being paid, but that could be done out of Malfoy's fortune, and Voldemort expected to kill Malfoy soon anyway. He placed Crabbe in command.
"But, Lord, I can't talk Fyarl."
"You can hardly string together a coherent sentence in English either. You and they will be well-suited to one another. Just keep them aimed in the general direction of the enemy."
Part of the Fyarls' pay had been the right to kill their commander. Finally, a good use for the idiot.* *
"You have tried to live among humans, young werewolf. I can see it. And you have failed. From California to Tibet you have wandered, and never have you found a community you could live in. You have fled your friends; you have gone on alone. It does not have to be this way. You could take your place at my side. You could be part of a pack, part of an army. Slaughter the normals beneath your teeth and claws. Have a position of power, of prestige, and of safety. What say you to that?"