The Mouth of Hell

by NoirChaos

When Voldemort's arrogance overcomes logic. One shot series of story ideas. No flames. But will take honest critisism. So you won't go looking all disclaimers are in the summery. I own Nothing except original ideas or characters.

Take a deep breath.

Harry was breathing heavy his left leg long since numb and a cold feeling begining to spread from the gash in his side. Poison he thought faintly not that it would matter much longer. He could hear them coming heavily clawed and taloned feet clacking on stone floors. The stench of fresh blood, burnt flesh, and rancid meat heralding their arrival.

Count to three.

How could things have gone so wrong so fast. Voldemort the arrogant fool. When it looked as though things might not go his way after the Department of Mysteries fiasco he had decided he wasn't going to take a chance the light could pull something out of its arse this time.

Send a pray to Bahb and The Morrigan.

He decided that summoning daemons and binding them to his will was a good thing. Twenty circles with an offering of four young muggle children a piece. Fool didn't know or even think he would get Arch level daemons. They broke the circles and killed everyone Tom had brought with him this included all of his inner circle Death Eaters and twenty of his most fanatical devotees. Seems once invited to this plain all they had to do is be stronger than the people who drew the circles. Pettigrew had drawn the circles and wasn't that stupid.

Turn and face the Maw of Hell.

Harry had been watching through his connection to Tom when he felt and saw the slaughter start. Having time only for slight satisfaction as Wormtail and Lestrange were torn apart before his scar was ripped wide open as one the daemons called forth the pieces of Voldemort's soul as a snack. Within a week of their arrival most of Britain had burned and the population had been reduced some two hundred frightened and fleeing souls. The creature population disappeared the moment the daemons had appeared. They knew the score. Harry had after desperately summoning the sword of Gryffindor to himself tried to make his way to Diagon Ally in a bid to get a floo connection to Hogwarts and had managed to kill two daemons on the way. Of course that just pissed off the rest of the bloody things. Now he was trapped and he knew what his only choice was. Go out like a Gryffindor and hope he ended up somewhere nice. He turned and with sword and wand in hand he leapt into the pit.

And hope in your death you are judged worthy.