A/N: Hello, true believers, and welcome to the next exciting snippet of The Archive Rejects. With this snippet I have revisited the concept of Harry Potter and the Sin War, making it darker, much darker in comparison to its' original some chapters back.

As before, the primary X-Overs are Harry Potter/Diablo with elements from other sources thrown in. This was quickly written up when I first heard the announcement for Diablo 3. The only elements of Diablo used are going to be the first and second games and the LoD Expansion for Diablo 2 and SOME elements from Diablo 3 once more information has been released.

However, I haven't really been able to come up with any more than I already have for this concept, which is really the only thing keeping me from actually making this a full-fledged fic.

So... Do enjoy Harry Potter and the Sin War (Revisited).

Like many before me, I too write down my memoirs...

I speak of my travels to the various worlds and dimensions. My walk in places where even "The Gods" themselves fear to tread. Places of wondrous glory and most terrifying horrors. More often than not, I find myself walking the walk of the cursed, navigating the halls of damnation.

Even now, I have traveled the world over. There are few places on Earth I have not been. I have been to the hottest, brimstone covered halls of the deepest caverns of Hell and I have navigated the lush, eternally beautiful gardens of the High Heavens.

I have traveled to worlds both similar and very much unlike my own. I have fought with the bravest, most courageous beings in existence, or the most foolhardy, depending on one's point of view. And yet, it is here, on the world of Sanctuary, that I find myself. The place where it all started. The place were the Sin War was nearly ended, the place where the Sin War escalated to new heights, the place where it all begins... Again...

I carefully make my way through the ruins of what used to be "Tristram". It was, at one time, oh so long ago, a dense forest. That is, until the demonic Lord of Terror fled here and was promptly captured by the ancient Sorcerous Order of the Horadrim. Deep beneath the earth they buried him within his Soulstone, to remain until the end of time. A Cathedral was built above the catacombs, and a city formed around the church.

But it was all for naught.

For Diablo, weakened as he was, found one of darkness to fulfill his bidding. A faithful servant in the ways of Terror, Hatred and Destruction, the way of... The Three...

The Arch-Bishop Lazarus would kidnap the noble Prince Albrecht, and after shattering the Soulstone containing Diablo, used the boy as a vessel for the Demon Lord, resurrecting him in such a way that he was far more powerful than before. Even with the Prince's frail body, he was more than a match for even the most powerful of Sorcerers, the most cunning of Rogues and the bravest of Warriors. But in the end, one man defeated him. One brave Warrior who would attempt to seal Diablo within himself, hoping he was strong enough to contain the burden within.

His arrogance would be his downfall. The result was the destruction of the once bustling and fair township of Tristram. Even the great Horadric Sorcerer Tal Rasha knew he could not hope to contain the will of Baal and had himself chained and buried deep with in a tomb under the Valley of the Magi.

Moving forward in history, as told by the wizened Sorcerer, Deckard Cain, the three heroes of the Tristram Cathedral would be corrupted.

Alyssa Raven, also known by many as "Blood Raven", would become a lieutenant of Diablo's. She had primarily served as a distraction to the Rogues and many adventurers as she resurrected the dead at the Rogue Burial Grounds, preventing them from reaching and reclaiming their Monastery, which was the only single, solitary, pass to the deserts of the east, and ultimately, Lut Gholein. This was also where a Lesser Evil, the Lady of Anguish, Andariel lay in wait for those wishing to follow Diablo as he quested to free his brothers, Mephisto, Lord of Hatred, and Baal, Lord of Destruction, from their imprisonments near Kurast and Lut Gholein respectively.

Reuben Vizjerei, who had been responsible for the defeat of the undead King Leoric, would bar the way to the Valley of the Magi after corrupting the Arcane Sanctuary to suit his ends, though to the citizens of Lut Gholein, he was known only as "The Summoner". His already considerable powers became that much more when augmented with Diablo's demonic taint. He would be able to stall for enough time so that Diablo would be able to free Baal from the Tomb of Tal Rasha unhindered.

And then there was one.

The Warrior, Tristan, "The Dark Wanderer", the vessel of Diablo.

For weeks he would fight Diablo's influence. He would keep the Demon Lord's powers at bay as best he could. It would not be enough and eventually Diablo would steadily gain power. The brothers three, would be free, despite interference on behalf of the mortals by the Arch-Angel Tyrael.

Along the way, the Lesser Evil, Duriel, Lord of Pain, would be defeated, then Mephisto and finally Diablo down in the depths of Hell itself. Even Baal would be defeated, though at the cost of a powerful artifact called, "The Worldstone".

But enough of ancient history. The Worldstone's destruction was the catalyst for things today. The barrier between worlds was weakened, though some more than others. The Sin War between the High Heavens led by the Arch-Angel Tyrael and Odin, the High Chancellor of the Elder Gods, and the Demonic Hordes of Hell, led by Belial, Lord of Hell have reached new heights. However, the realms of Heaven and Hell and the World of Sanctuary are no longer the only battlefields.

Both Andariel and Duriel, after their defeats at the hands of the Heroes chasing Diablo throughout Sanctuary, were reincarnated and have since re-ascended to their respective thrones and their roles as rulers of Hell, though a vast majority is still under control of Belial. Azmodan, The Lord of Sin, still remains imprisoned in the Pits of Betrayal, where he was put after his defeat by Belial, then the Lord of Lies, when they fought for sole controlling rites to Hell.

However, as powerful as they have become, the Lesser Evils, without the aid of the three brothers, the Prime Evils, Mephisto, Baal and Diablo, have not been able to hold much sway over the High Heavens for very long.

Since the "demise" of the three most vile, evil beings in all creation since "The Great Betrayer" himself, many have consciously, and unconsciously attempted to take their place, and some have nearly been successful.

Now, one might ask were I am going with all of this. It's very simple. My world was one such realm where beings of great evil were born and nurtured and allowed to become entities of great power.

One such being started as simple man, with an affinity for controlling the darkness around him, manipulating it, bending it to his will. He could also speak to snakes. He was a genius, among geniuses, a great hero, hailed as the greatest prodigy to ever live. He, like many others before him, felt the call of the Sin War and took up the arms of battle.

His colleagues never understood. They eventually feared and distrusted him, leaving him alone to his darkness.

And thus, like many before him, one of Heaven's greatest Champions fell from glory, seeking darker avenues to sooth the pains of his mortal soul. He attempted to ascend beyond the limits of mere mortals, but was stopped by a man who had once looked up to him, admired him in every way, called him friend, and even named him godfather of his child. It was at that very moment the rivalry of Gryffindor and Slytherin began. Champions of Light and Darkness, neither side truly good or truly evil, merely opposing in views of where the lines of right and wrong truly lied.

The Line of Slytherin would persevere, as many others would. However, they would fall in dishonor and become destitute. A Bloodline of Champions would be forgotten by many for several centuries, though the Line would continue to produce prodigies of superior talent and genius, if not more than a bit jaded.

It would not be until the rise of the Dark Lord Grindlewald that the Slytherin Line was uncovered once more. Grindlewald himself had no such connections to the once noble heritage, however, one of his lieutenants in possession of great talent and ability was an indirect descendant.

Fearing the rise of his most promising apprentice, Grindlewald would betray him. Using an ancient rite, Grindlewald would absorb the young man's bloodline, powers and abilities. The Dark Lord grew exponentially powerful, and began a search of ancient tomes and tombs to find out how he could acquire more power and where to find it. It was then that the Sin War, long forgotten for over a millennia, was rediscovered and with it, the Bloodlines of Champions.

The Line of Ravenclaw had been ridiculously easy to eliminate, as they were the only ones to actively oppose him, as only they had the knowledge of what Grindlewald was attempting. However, the Lines of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, amongst others, were already locked in battle with his armies and his Muggle puppet, Adolf Hitler, a man with views similar to his own, without the magical means in which to gain true ultimate power.

It was during this time that the long forgotten line of Salazar Slytherin was rediscovered, with ancient powers and abilities most coveted by Grindlewald. However, the Elder God Quezacotl, a Lightning Deity, was tracking the Dark Lord's movements. The Muggle World War, as well as the Rise and Ascension of the Dark Lord Grindlewald would culminate in an epic struggle between Grindlewald and Quezacotl.

Centuries prior, during Baal's assault on Mount Arreat, when the Worldstone had been destroyed, the Elder Council under the leadership of Gilgamesh had banned the Angels and other denizens of the High Heavens from interfering in the affairs of Mortals.

Prior to Tyrael shattering the Worldstone, it had been an unwritten/unspoken rule that interactions between Mortal and Immortal be kept to a minimum. However, in the aftermath of Tyrael's actions on Arreat, the Elder Gods decided it best to not interact with Mortals, unless it became absolutely necessary. In the case of Salazar Slytherin, it was when a group of Fallen had attacked his home, slaying his wife and two of his three children.

Because Quezacotl had broken the vows set forth by Gilgamesh centuries prior, the Elder Council, now led by Odin, banished him from Heaven and stripped him of his powers. From there, Quezacotl was sent to live with his half-brother, Aberforth, and become a prominent figure of Earth Wizarding Society. And so, Quezacotl died and Albus Dumbledore was born in his place.

Soon, a new evil was born. Despite his best attempts to steer Tom Riddle from the path taken by his ancestor, Tom Riddle would attain knowledge and power thought lost in the aftermath of Grindlewald's defeat, including Dark Rites and Magics that even the former nemesis of Albus Dumbledore was reluctant to use. Tom Riddle would then transform into the Dark Lord Voldemort, sparking a reign of terror that would last just over a decade before his defeat.

And that's where I come in... A child of not one, but two prophecies.

I am Harry Potter, nemesis of the Dark Lord Voldemort and Champion of the High Heavens, traveler of worlds and defender of those unable to do so themselves.

To my left is an Acolyte of Ramuh, the Lightning Deity that ascended to replace Quezacotl after his banishment, named Weigraf. He is a powerful Holy Knight, who is slightly taller than me with sandy blonde hair. He is a devout follower of the Elder Gods and is ready for any task they would assign him to.

To my left his a red haired man named Ronald Weasley. He is one of my first friends and, with the except of that one time when we were 14, the most loyal friend a person could ask for. He has since become an Acolyte of Ifrit, the Fire Deity. He went down the path of the Sorcerer, specializing in fire magic.

Bringing up the rear, is another good friend of mine, Neville Longbottom. Like many of us from Earth, he doesn't take much stock in the Elder Gods, though he acknowledges that they are useful allies. In the last few years he has spent most of his time with Remus Lupin amongst the Druids.

Through their aid, Remus was able to control the beast within, and eventually became able to transform without the aid of the moon's lunar cycle.

Neville, however, learned much of their summoning capabilities. A raven sat on his shoulder as a wolf walked in step with him by his side.

It was with great trepidation that we made our way to the Cathedral. We sought knowledge that could be hidden there, deep within the Catacombs that had not been entered since Tristan had defeated Diablo.

The Cathedral door squeaked loudly as I slowly opened the large doors, that were still in rather good condition even after all these years. The echoes of our footprints clacked and clanged throughout the church as we stepped into the interior of the Cathedral.

"What are we looking for in here?" asked Wiegraf.

I frowned. "I'm not sure... But there has to be something... ANYTHING that the scavengers have missed or overlooked."

"Fat chance in that mate... It looks like they were pretty thorough ransacking the place..." Ron said as he lit a torch.

Suddenly, Neville's wolf started growling at a dark alcove. We all looked, but none of our eyes could pierce the darkness.

"Who's there?" called out Wiegraf. "Show yourself!"

I heard a familiar chuckling as glowing red eyes appeared from the shadows.

"Voldemort..." Neville whispered.

"It's been a long time hasn't it Potter... Weasley... How is that lovely wife of yours?" asked Voldemort.

Ron went to charge Voldemort in blind fury, but was held back by myself and Neville.

"Bastard!"

"Now, now..." Voldemort smirked as he stepped out from the shadows, his hands in a placating gesture, "Is that anyway to great an old friend?"

"What are you doing here Tom?" I demanded.

"Searching... For the same as you. Rare artifacts and tomes..." said Voldemort, "I tire of the immortal half-life of Lichdom. I aspire for something... More... And I believe it lies here, in this very Monastery."

"If you think we'll let you do that, you're wrong," I said threateningly. I griped the wand at my waist.

Voldemort's face turned from cheerful to deathly serious. "And if you think you could stop me, you're delusional. Even with your combined strength, you are no match for me. I am far more powerful than when I killed Fenrir. Even Belial is wary of me. Though I have little doubt he is still more than a match for me."

"And if you could have pressed on by yourself, you'd have done so," I replied, "If you are truly as powerful as you say you are, why haven't you killed us already?"

"Because even omnipotent beings have need of useless underlings," Voldemort replied back, "Even the Prime Evils had millions, if not billions, of demonic followers under their command."

I had to concede his point. Other than the Supreme Being and the Great Betrayer, there were none as powerful of the Demonic Lords of Terror, Hatred and Destruction, and few could match the Lords of Pain, Lies and Sin, or the Lady of Anguish and even they needed followers and underlings to do their bidding. The Heavenly Elder Council had only kept the Devil Triumvirate and, currently, The Lord of Hell at bay because they had the advantage of numbers.

"And what makes you think we'd help you?" I asked evenly.

"Because you felt it too, Harry Potter..." he said vaguely, the others looked at me strangely. "You FEEL it, even now... And it's stronger here than in any other Realm."

"Harry, what is he talking about?" asked Neville.

"The Demonic taint... The stench of blood, destruction, chaos... Death... It resonates in this place. Even after all this time, the very air in here looks, smells and tastes of evil for those who know how to look. Even centuries afterwards, I can still hear the delightful screams of pain and agony that once echoed in these cursed halls," Voldemort said with a nostalgic sort of reverence in his voice.

"They're coming you know..." said Voldemort snapping out of his reverie, "The Brothers Three... The Devil Triumvirate, the Prime Evils of Hell."

"They were destroyed centuries ago!" shouted Wiegraf. "Their souls were destroyed in the Hellforge with their Soulstones!"

Voldemort laughed, "Naive little knight... Your faith in the Elder God's propaganda is quite admirable. I researched those little Soulstones and the lore of the Hellfires within the Hellforge. Do you honestly think that a creation of the Triumvirate could, or even would, possibly destroy them for all eternity? Especially, while trapped within such flawed containment devices? I assure you, Diablo, Mephisto and Baal are very much alive and when they do reappear, they will be stronger than before."

"Which is why I need you, Potter. Despite using demonic summonings and undead hordes for my own ends, I have no interest in the dealings of Hell. Once they have dealt with the traitorous Belial and Azmodan, and reclaim Hell for themselves, they will, no doubt, turn their eyes towards the Mortal Realms, and that I can not allow. Even individually, the three of them far outstrip me in raw power. Only your Necromantic powers come close to rivaling my own, yet Mephisto's abilities were far beyond our combined powers even before his imprisonment."

"It's not like they haven't been beaten before," said Ron angrily, "They were beaten once and we could do it again, WITHOUT you!"

"Foolish, mortal... The Triumvirate manipulated Belial and Azmodan. They manufactured their own defeat so that they could gain access to the Mortal Realm. It was only a matter of time before the High Heavens took action against them. The Horadrim were such excellent lapdogs, "entrapping" the Prime Evils in those Soulstones. Even then, they knew they weren't invincible. They left one last failsafe in place. One last plot, should Tyrael or others like him think to destroy their Soulstones."

"The Worldstone..." I whispered in realization.

Voldemort smirked proudly at me, "You always were a worthy adversary. Yes, Baal's assault on Arreat was not to corrupt the Worldstone, but to have it destroyed. However, he had not anticipated the resiliency of the Ancient's enchantments. Thus, he lacked the means to destroy it."

Voldemort chuckled in amusement. "And then Tyrael and his entourage showed up, having defeated the Guardians of Arreat. Tyrael had not been a match for the combined strength of a weakened Baal and Diablo in the Tomb of Tal Rasha, having a couple of pitiful Mortals with him when Baal was at full strength, would have made no difference. However, Baal, unlike the brutish Mephisto or the arrogant Diablo, researched the little bit of lore on the Worldstone that could be found, and realized that there was only one relic that could possibly destroy the Worldstone and the enchantments around it. The Fiery Sword of Vengeance, originally wielded by the Arch-Angel Michael when he defeated The Great Betrayer, was the key to everything. The very weapon handed down to Tyrael, when he took up command of Heaven's Armies."

"You're lying!" shouted Wiegraf, drawing his sword.

"Am I?" asked Voldemort. "The Devil Triumvirate played everyone for fools, manipulating them, coercing them at every turn. They all fell into the same trap. The Lesser Evils, Tyrael, the Elder Council, even I underestimated them."

"Then how... How did you put all of this together?" I asked.

"I am ashamed to admit it, but I did not..." Voldemort reluctantly stated, "My ancestor, Salazar Slytherin did. He has writings on Demonology and Demonic Rites that would have sent Gellert and Aberforth into convulsions. However, even his research is far from complete. He believed as you did, Potter, that the answers lie here on Sanctuary, though he thought it more likely that the answers lay in one of the false Tombs of Tal Rasha in the Valley of the Magi."

"So what? You want our help to get more power?" I asked incredulously.

"Precisely." said Voldemort.

"So we trade off one evil for another," I stated, "Forgive me if I don't immediately say yes."

"But of course..." said Voldemort, "Deliberate amongst yourselves if you must, but do decide soon. The fate of all worlds rest on this decision. You could fight me now and I destroy you... Or perhaps you escape. Either way, the Triumvirate will win. Or join me, at least temporarily. We do, after all, have a common enemy. Duriel is no match for me, Andariel is likely to join me, and Belial, I can handle. But the Brothers... Without the direct aid of the Elder Gods or the Angels you stand no chance. Together, we stand a better chance of winning."

"And why should we trust you!" demanded Ron.

"Trust? Who said anything about trust?" asked Voldemort smugly. "I only asked to ally with you. You would be fools to trust me, as I will betray you at my earliest convenience to serve my own ends. I'm merely asking you to choose the lesser of two evils. On one hand, you have the Lords of Terror, Destruction and Hatred, on the other you have I, the Dark Lord Voldemort, Lord of Betrayal and Torture. Which do you choose?"

I have to admit, the offer was a tempting one. I never in my wildest dreams, or nightmares, thought I'd actually consider joining Voldemort in any sort of cause, however, this time... I wasn't so sure.

However, desperate times called for desperate measures. Though, I admit, as dire as our situation seemed in that moment, I was at my lowest years before that, when this all started. Voldemort had just been revealed to the world that he had returned, and while everyone was scrambling to deal with him, I could care less. I was a marked man, a child of prophecy. I was likely to die anyway, why should I care.

That's what I told myself anyway.

The truth was that I was hurting. I was stuck at the Dursley's house... AGAIN, imprisoned and away from the world I knew and loved. A world full of memories, both grand and painful. Memories of the hope I once held of being rid of the Dursleys forever, shattered the instant Bellatrix Lestrange fired the curse the ended my Godfather's life. Memories of the loving Godfather, the wrongfully convicted Sirius Black, who was no longer with us among the living.

I was hurt, I was tired and I was down and out for the count. And for the very first time that I could remember, I didn't want to get up. I was sick of it all. Sick of the mistreatment from the Dursleys. Sick of the manipulations of Dumbledore and sick of the isolation from my friends and all that I held dear. I was sick and tired of everything and everyone, especially myself.

That is, until the dreams came. The dreams that set me on my current path. The dreams that would change my life, my fate and everything I knew, or at least thought I knew...