The Devil you know

1st of September 1995 - Little Hangleton

Voldemort was fuming. This was a rather common state of mind for him as of late. This day, though, he had a better-than-common reason for it. The dead body of Crabbe, now dropped in the corner of the room, paid silent testimony for this. Two other bodies of his now-former followers had already been thrown out and hopefully Vanished. Otherwise the place will be reeking soon. He really didn't need more reasons for being stroppy.

In front of him was today's copy of The Daily Prophet, which was the main reason for all this shindiggery.

Voldemort breathed deeply, trying hard to regain his control. A moment later all his followers around the country screamed with the pain he sent them through their marks - just in spite. As a precaution as well.

"Half the Malfoy gold for Lestrange's head!" screamed the headline.

That story covered the whole front page. Dowager Malfoy featured in the main picture. Dress in immaculate black robes and not an hair out of place. A single black vulture-feather in the knot of her hair testified of her search for revenge. She was staring straight at the camera and Voldemort had a hard time noticing this picture move at all. Another picture showed a Goblin standing in front of a large vault. In it were gold coins. Many gold coins. Row after row and stack after stack of galleons. The Goblin then locked the door and pocket the key. "This treasure was deposited with us to guarantee the payment of the prize," he was quoted. Another picture showed him in the centre of the cashier floor. "It will be paid to the person who will place Lestrange's head on this spike!"

This was his money! Now it was being offered as a reward for his head - literally!

It was very nicely done too - Voldemort had to grudgingly appreciate Narcissa's work. The rag never mentioned the name 'Voldemort' or any of the amusing ways they used to avoid printing his made-up name. The reward was offered for the 'head of Rabastan Lestrange', who was perceived as a dangerous man. An escaped convict to be sure, but didn't induce the same fear his own name did. It also undermined his own efforts to return to power. It all seemed like a plot Rabastan devised to gain power and influence he couldn't possibly get under his own name.

Very Slytherin!

She will pay for this, naturally…

Aboard the Hogwarts Express, a group of students - no longer children, where gathered in a compartment and reading that same rag.

It wasn't hard at all to persuade Narcissa Malfoy to cooperate with their scheme. By the time they returned from France, a little subdued and with very few tan-lines to speak of, she had already approached Sirius and asked him to call back her dowry, once paid to Lucius' father by the Black family. The arcane and rather biased laws of Britain meant that she inherited almost nothing from her late husband. As the steward of the Malfoy estate, she was very limited in her control of the monies and holdings too, but did have the right to accept such a demand from the head of the Black family. Narcissa had no delusion regarding her personal finances, once Draco will gain full control over these in a couple of years. Nor regarding his prospects of keeping this fortune whole and under his own control.

This was a win-win solution for them all. Narcissa was already in danger once she escaped the Malfoy estate. Now, her financial future was assured; Her way to free herself from Voldemort's shadow looming over her - hopefully shortened; And Draco? Well, it was all done to avenge his father's murder, was it not?

Said person just burst into their compartment without knocking. It was shameful behaviour on the part of such a high-born like himself, but he was still in shock after the gruesome murder of his father, so he was forgiven this time.

"I know you helped my mother rob my inheritance for me, Potter!" he accused as soon as he set foot in their compartment. "You will pay for this!"

"I don't know what you mean," Harry offered. In reality, his visit with both Mrs Malfoy and Sirius wasn't hidden in any way. Naturally Draco jumped to the wrong conclusion.

"There isn't a single knut of Malfoy money in either my or your mother's hands," he went on.

"Wasn't it all offered as a reward for doing Lestrange in?" Hermione asked. "It's in the Prophet," she added, just to twist the knife a little more.

"Shut up Mudblood!" one of Malfoy's followers shouted. It brought a shade of a grimace to Draco's face. Just for the briefest of moments.

This entourage Malfoy was having was a curious thing. When the death of his father was published, Draco lost much of his sway, both within his Hogwarts house and with the population in general. He also turned a little recluse. Then the interest in him returned. His mother was doing her best to keep his father's former associates at arm's length, but she couldn't isolate him in school. Soon people were getting extra friendly towards him. Probably figured out he was now a large step closer to being the proper head of the Malfoy family and in control of a rather impressive wealth. Also, that he is and will be much more impressionable and pliable than his father was.

"You should verify your facts," Harry answered conversationally.

"Also," Hermione added, not hurt in the slightest by that generic slight. "Once more you insist on making these 'discussions of point of views' so public?"

Draco wanted to say something, but was cut short. Harry had very little patience for him at the moment.

"Now, can you please leave and let us read this offer by the regent of house Malfoy?" he calmly asked. "Otherwise, I would be forced to come to conclusions and discuss your ongoing hospitality options with my head of house."

All visitors were soon ushered out of the compartment. Draco lingered for a longer moment, then closed the door behind himself with a frown.

"Wait till Harry trenches you in Quidditch!" Ron shouted after his parting back. It earned him scowls from all around.

"What?" he complained loudly - "He will?!"

Ginny came gallivanting into the great hall, holding Harry's broom over her shoulder. She had the widest smile Harry had ever seen her having. In all honesty, she probably hasn't been this happy since before getting that cursed diary from Lucius Malfoy.

Katie-Bell walked behind her, smiling ruefully and shaking her head.

"Thank you Harry!" Ginny announced and hugged him tightly.

Beside him, Hermione giggled.

"I just hope you'll let me fly my broom once in a while," he answered with amusement.

"You did what?!" Ron exclaimed from across the table. This outburst cost Gryffindor five points and some mean laughter from the direction of the Slytherin table.

"Your confidence in our baby-sister is heartwarming," one of the twins deadpanned. Harry wasn't looking to know who.

It only served to get Ron even more annoyed. "But, the cup?!" he loudly complained. Now, family was important, but quidditch was quidditch?! This lost Gryffindor another five points. By the look on Katie's face it also cost Ron his chance to get on the team that year.

The Gryffindor quidditch team was having a bit of a chair-game at the moment, and was certainly changing its shape. For four years, the squad was shaped to Wood's vision with no disputes. It served that Wood left Hogwarts as one of the most successful team captains in school's history. The captaincy was first offered to Angelina, who promptly refused. She loved quidditch - don't be mistaken. She was even planning to try and play professionally after graduating, but this was her NEWTs year and all.

"Wouldn't it be a good idea to offer the armband to someone with more than a single year left on the team?" she logically asked McGonagall.

Just why did the Headmistress get personally involved with this in-house decision was never explained.

McGonagall went on and offered the band to Harry, who refused too. He had a very hectic year to look forward to, what with it being his OWL year, and with his ambitious regular studies timetable on top. As the best male fifth-year student in Gryffindor, he was also offered the prefect position and declined as well, delicately suggesting Neville as a good candidate.

In the end, Katie-Bell accepted the band a little grudgingly. Especially once Harry told her he wasn't returning for this year. He had enough on his plate. He was also not enjoying himself as much, now that the novelty of it ebbed. It showed bad sportsmanship too, he reckoned, since he never lost sight of the Snitch and was able to catch it at any moment he chose to.

For the first time in a long while the quidditch cup was truly in the air. The strong Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams were both rebuilding. In the game of Seekers, Ravelclaw had a very good one in Cho. Harry was positive that Ginny could hold her own against anyone at school-level, but as Katie put it delicately - 'she still had to look for the bloody Snitch'. Draco also grew into a decent Seeker and still had the best broom in school to use. Finally, no one knew who will replace Cedric on the Hufflepuff team and just how good he or she will be.

Exciting!

It was at that moment that the doors to the great hall opened and in walked an Auror in uniform. He had a few words with the Headmistress, which seemed to be getting more and more disturbed and subdued. They both then headed towards the Slytherin table, together with their head of house. They collected a very surprised Vincent Crabbe and led him out of the hall.

"What do you actually need?" The Friar asked, when Harry asked him about the Hogwarts wards.

"To keep a rather powerful individual put for a while, until we can get organised and handle him properly" Harry answered plainly.

"And you want to lure Voldemort to a school full of children, off all places?" the ghost asked incredulously.

Harry shrugged. "We don't know where else we can handle him where he can't run away when things go south."

"Come," Elvis simply offered and headed towards a now-expected destination.

Hermione walked in front of the wall to call for the control chamber. In it, the friar led them to a door they have not used before. Inside were some more control panels in various stages of disassembly and a large pulsating crystal.

"The renowned Hogwarts wards," he deadpanned, then took a large mouthful of beer from his cup. "This system used to do exactly what you're looking for," he explained, pointing at an empty console. Helga developed it during the crusades, to hold an army here, till young Richard could return from the holy-lands and handle them properly."

Hermione looked at the console with some interest and more than a little exasperation. "What happened to it?" she asked.

"Merlin, in his infinite wisdom, disabled most of the systems here before he left," The friar explained. "The Barron later made the mistake and showed this place," Elvis motioned around, "to a Headmaster, during the years of the Plague, in a hope to protect the school. instead of switching these systems back on, the daft bugger dismantled them 'to research the Enchantments'. End result - half the school died, including that Headmaster. The Pepper-Up Potion was invented too - Job done!"

Harry looked at the systems around with some frustration. It was clear that these will do them no good.

"Do the wards work at all?" he asked. Hogwarts wards had the reputation of being formidable, yet the sight around them wasn't reassuring.

"They work alright," the friar answered, "but even Merlin wouldn't know what they actually do." He then pointed them towards the power crystal at the heart of it all. It was covered with dozens of minutely engraved runes. "So many have tinkered with it without understanding that your guess is as good as anyone's."

"Can it be fixed?" Hermione went on asking.

Elvis sighed heavily. Obviously, he was a ghost, and therefore didn't have a breath to sigh with, but he made a good show of it nevertheless. "This technology needs some sophisticated materials to fix it. One extra stupid Headmaster in the early 18th century sold it all to the Goblins to finance the renovation of the headmaster's office and installation of a sewage system," He explained. "Also, there is the issue of the power crystal - For it to work properly, you'll need a clean one, and Merlin only knows just where you'll go to find one."

Harry's face fell. "So, no way of stopping him from running away?"

The friar shook his head with some exasperation. "You lads are spending too much time with me and learning science," he chided them. "Wizards have created very good travel wards. Go to the library and copy a design. Normally, what you plan would have required a virgin-coven sacrifice, but I can probably help you with this part," he concluded.

November arrived with miserable rain and more bad news. It mostly hit Slytherin of all houses.

Voldemort kept conducting his series of small annoying attacks on various homes and locations. More often than not, those were not successful. The damages caused were substantial, but people usually managed to get away. Death Eaters wouldn't admit to it, but their inside people within the Floo Network Authority were probably some of Voldemort's most effective weapons in his war against the public order. Now the need to cause some damage was at odds with the need to flee before Aurors arrived. End result was a slow yet constant bleed of his people. Sadly, most of these tended to be Slytherin affiliates and alumni. Strangely enough, the Aurors, getting hurt in the struggle to contain him, were Slytherin alumni more often than not as well. A certain sneering former Professor made sure that almost all students graduating with the needed Potions NEWT, were from his own house.

The British Pureblood community was quite intermarried too. One would be hard pressed to find any pureblood person who wasn't related to any of the casualties. During the former war the Ministry ignored Voldemort and Death Eater's attacks for a long while, seeing those as 'the Mudblood's problem'. Now, the Ministry was doing its best to fight back. It had the support of most of the population as well.

"Avery visited my mother. Twice already." Harry heard a hushed voice from ahead and behind a corner in the corridor. It was the second floor, and this corridor was opened back up this year with no explanation forthcoming. In the quiet of the night, even hushed voices travelled far.

"Told her he expects me to come during Christmas," that same voice added and Harry could guess just who that 'he' was.

"What are you gonna do?" another voice whispered.

No answer came.

Harry was getting closer to the corner now.

"Could you stay in Hogwarts?" another voice asked. A girl's voice this time.

"And my mother?" the first voice whispered. "She'll be all alone," he then added. It was clear to Harry that this boy's mother being alone for the holiday was not what had him worried.

"You could have a bash at all this Malfoy money," the girl remarked. One could hear the smirk in her tone of voice.

"Probably what got his father killed," the second boy replied, quite subdued. "My parents owled," he then went on. "Told me to Floo directly home.

For a long moment, no one said anything more. Then the girl spoke once more. "Speaking of, did you talk with Malfoy?" she asked.

There was no answer voiced. "What did he say?" the second boy further asked, but before the first could answer, Harry walked round the corner.

"Mr Crabbe, Nott, Ms Davis," he greeted them politely.

All three look at him back mutely. As usual, these stares showed clear dislike. Not so usual was the apprehension in them.

"Potter," Davis finally answered.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Harry then voiced his opinion, albeit, he wasn't asked for it. "He'll get a hold on you," Harry went on. "What he'll make you do - you'll feel guilty about for all eternity."

For a long moment no one said anything. Crabbe then shrugged helplessly.

"You killed Flint," Davis told Harry levelly.

"And a Dementor," Harry agreed. They really didn't need to know about Greyback. Mr Delacour took the credit for that one. Tonks got the prize money.

"Why did…" Nott started asking, but a soft light just showed from around the corner.

"Well, well, what do we have here," the voice holding the light commented. "Student out of bound after curfew."

"Prefect Truly," Harry smirked.

"This will be two points from Gryffindor for being out after hours, Mr Potter," Hermione answered coldly. "And another one for your cheek," she added. "As for you three," she then started to turn towards the three Slytherin students. She was stopped by a minute shake of Harry's head. "Better head back to your dorms," she then just offered.

"Prefect Granger, Potter," Crabbe answered cordially, before the three turned to head back.

"He didn't" they heard Crabbe answer a former question, probably about what Malfoy had to say. "Didn't say a word…"

Both walked in comfortable silence towards the Gryffindor common room. It was a long walk, with many stairways involved. They were already on the second floor and couldn't take the main moving one up.

"I'm accompanying Mr Potter here back to our dorms," Hermione told Mr Filch, when met on the fourth floor.

"Time for a cuppa?" he asked, to Hermione's clear shock.

"Meow?" came a small, almost timid voice from below and Harry bent down to pet the hated cat.

"Who's a lovely cat?" He asked her affectionately. "Who's lovely?!"

Mrs Norris purred in enjoyment. It earned Harry a rather dumbfounded raised eyebrow.

"Darjeeling?" he called, as they entered Filch's cramped office.

"And biscuits!" Filch added.

It was about an hour later and well after midnight when Hermione and Harry resumed their comfortable walk towards Gryffindor tower.

"You and Filch?" she finally couldn't keep herself from asking.

Harry chuckled. "Ever since our second year," he answered.

"Lovely cat?" she further asked with understandable incredulity.

"Truly lovely," He answered and was smacked lightly for this. "Owe," he complained. "Now I'll have to go back to Mrs Norris, so she could lick it better!" He got himself smacked for this too.

They stopped for a soft kiss, just outside the portrait hole.

"Thank you for not making a fuss with the Slytherins," he thanked her softly.

"Bof" she answered with a perfect French shrug.

It made Harry chuckle lightly some more. "Fleur is really rubbing off on you!" he stated. Clearly amused.

"Not yet," Hermione blushed in response.

It was Christmas break already and they were sitting in Sirius flat's lounge, looking at the seven ward-stones set in the small padded chest on the coffee table. Those were already charged - Turned out the Hogwarts wards had the ability to charge Runes and certainly had enough stored Magic to spare.

"Where do we set it up?" Hermione asked.

It was now mainly a question of belling the cat, or more accurately maybe - baiting the trap.

"I'll be the bait," Harry replied decisively, not really answering the question and earning frowns from all around.

"You're too young," Remus answered decisively. "The Headmaster would have never approved it," he then added. It was strange just how tenacious Remus could be. This 'old Headmaster' argument has never proven persuasive with this group of people.

"It's not your job to put yourself at risk," Sirius argued, disregarding Remus' mantra, yet not his opinion. This argument, albeit true, wasn't very convincing either.

"Not my job," Harry agreed, to earn a premature smile from both Sirius and Remus.

Hermione knew her boyfriend better, though. She also had some better suspicions regarding his reasons. "But, he wants all this to be over and done with," she argued in his name.

Harry nodded in agreement. "Better things to do than keep looking over my shoulder," he explained. "Where do we set it up, though," he then went on.

This was a good question and for a while, no one said a word.

"It'll need to be a public place," Hermione mumbled.

"You can't risk the people!" Sirius was angry with the idea.

"He would like to have an audience," Remus found himself in agreement with Hermione, and was truly surprised about it.

"If he can't make a show out of it and use it to make the people afraid, he won't come himself," Harry agreed.

"Or come alone and leave as soon as he gets even a whiff of a trap," Remus concurred.

"I..." Sirius started to say - Disagree, most likely. Yet, in what was a rather perfect coincidence, his hearth burst with green flames.

Sirius glanced that way and frowned. "If the little twit Floos again to complain about Kreacher's cooking, I'm gonna ignore his mother and throw him back to Hogwarts for Christmas," he mumbled, walking towards the fireplace. It was the little blond twit indeed, but it turned out Kreacher's culinary capabilities were not the issue this time.

"You must come!" Draco's stressed voice came through the fire. "Mother's trying to hold him off, but she needs you to bring the wards to full lockup!" he almost shouted. "He's here with all his men and the Dementors!"

"Get back!" Sirius ordered Draco and grabbed one of the ward-stones. "Go!" he then shouted at his friends, before rushing through. He didn't care much about the rundown terrace home itself. Not even much about Narcissa and Draco - they could always leave through the Floo. He did care about the two large libraries, now housed there, which shouldn't fall into the hands of the likes of Voldemort.

This was one of those opportune moments as well.

Harry grabbed four of the stones. "Take me a couple of streets out, then come back for Hermione!" Harry ordered Remus. For a moment he looked like he was about to argue, but his friend couldn't hold Voldemort off by his lonesome for long. Voldemort has just let himself into a convenient trap too - it would be quite ridiculous not to try and keep him there. Remus couldn't have possibly done that by himself.

Christmas eve 1995 - Claremont Square, Islington, London

Harry arrived to find the place in utter chaos. It was a freezing-cold and overcast typical winter London afternoon. It was only half past five, yet it was already dark. Christmas decorations twinkled merrily on the streets, in every window, and at every shop. The people, however, were running away from the square, shouting and crying in fear. At the outdoor sitting of The George and Monkey, heating was on. This was the time of the day and the year, when locals flocked to the place to have a last pint with their mates before the holiday forced their families on them. It was, however, deserted - the pub's patrons ran away leaving half full pints and plates of pub grub behind.

Happy Christmas! Harry told himself bitterly.

A soft 'crack' behind his back indicated the arrival of Remus and Hermione.

"Monkeys," Hermione mumbled to herself, and pulled her coat around herself better.

"Rather deserted," Harry remarked, pointing at the local pub. Hermione didn't find it amusing.

They crept closer to the park and started to notice bodies on the street. Clearly the Dementors availed themselves a little to the buffet. They were all concentrated now in and above the square garden. The Death Eaters were there as well. About fifteen of them, all pointing their wands at a house on the eastern side of the square. The house shone with a visible barrier of a magical ward. It was straining, yet held for the time.

"Brilliant!" Remus announced. "We got time - get inside," he pointed them towards the deserted pub. "I'll go call the Aurors."

"Wait!" Harry called after his parting back. He then handed Remus two of the ward stones. "Place these, before you go," he instructed. "We need to hold them here."

Remus nodded and ran away. Harry and Hermione headed the other way, to encircle the square with wardstones.

"Be careful in the house," they heard Voldmort order his thugs. "There are things of value inside!" He then pointed his own wand and added his Magic to the effort of bringing the Black wards down. Those now shone even brighter.

A tap on the last wardstone activated them and Harry sighed in relief. Voldemort was trapped for now.

In front of No 12, the Dark Lord looked around. Might have noticed something was not as usual. He then called a blond man to him and pointed him towards the back of the square to investigate.

At the corner of the square, Harry started to fade from sight. "I'll go and stall for time," he told Hermione.

"You can't go there alone?" she asked, quite alarmed, and grabbed his hand. "Even with your lovely Demon knives," she stressed with clear sarcasm and fright.

Harry smiled softly. He then gave her an even softer kiss. "I don't plan on being alone," he answered. "But I do need a huge favour from you."

"I'll call Sirius!" she promised and Harry chuckled.

"I need you to pray," he explained.

Hermione now looked at him like he was utterly off his trolley. "Did you become religious in your advanced age?"

Harry scuffed derisively. "Not to him!" he answered. "He doesn't get involved." Harry then got a rather lovable half smile on. He kissed her lightly once more.

Such an infuriating berk!

"Pray to the Devil!" he instructed her. He then faded from sight, as he started walking toward the square.

Oh, sinnerman, where you gonna run to?
Sinnerman where you gonna run to?
All on that day

"Harry!" Hermione called after his parting back in desperation. She then had to hide behind the corner, since the blond man probably heard and was heading her way.

Pray…

Hermione wasn't religious in any way or form. It was a couple of years since the last time she set foot in a church and even then - it was to watch the architecture and listen to the orgue.

Pray…

She closed her eyes and held her hands, palm to palm, in front of her.

To the Devil…

"Please help Harry?" she whispered, mostly in the quiet of her mind.

So I run to the river
It was bleedin', I run to the sea
It was bleedin',
all on that day

Hermione was shaken out of her concentration by the sound of flapping wings from behind her back.

"Hello, little human," an amused voice said.

Hermione shrieked in fright and surprise. She turned to see a rather dashing man, wearing an exquisitely tailored suit, standing right behind her. He was smiling at her. A little too widely.

"Christ!" she exclaimed.

The man, now in front of her, frowned at that. "You call me, then bring him up? What do you need that boring brat for?"

Hermione was speechless. She pretended to pray, sorta, only out of respect to Harry. He was a little out there, at times, but he was truly a dear dear friend. Whatever she expected, if at all, this person with his perfectly polished shoes and his three-day beard most certainly wasn't it.

The man now got a good look at her. His smile was back on and a tad leery now. "Aren't you a little young for this kind of prayin'?" he asked her.

"Not for much longer!" a tall woman behind his back remarked drily. Hermione just noticed her.

Hermione shook herself back to reality. "Who are you?!" she asked with quite a bit of frustration showing. There was a fight going on. Harry was out there, all alone, facing all these terrorists and Dementors.

"Lucifer," the man in front of her introduced himself with some clear satisfaction. "Morningstar," he added.

"Right!" Hermione answered. "Now you'll tell me you bamboozled Harry into some kind of a deal with you?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She was tapping her foot impatiently too. Harry was out there, alone, while this pillock was wasting precious time.

If the man was hurt in any way, he showed no sign of it. He just kept grinning towards her. It was the woman, however, who answered.

"Little Harry Potter?" she asked with a frown, which still held quite a bit of fondness in it. "He sends me all these lovely presents," she went on saying a little wistfully.

"He's…" Hermione started, pointing down the street, but her explanation was cut short by a blond man in a black cloak and a white full-face mask, who just showed round the corner.

That man didn't faff about. He pointed his wand at Lucifer. "Avada ked…" he said, but this incantation soon turned into a shrike of pain. The reason was clear to see. That man's hand was now within Lucifer's grip and shattered. The man was then pushed away. He sailed graciously all across the street, somersaulting in the crisp air above the cobbles, till he was stopped by an unfortunate brick wall and fell to the pavement, unmoving.

It did pull their attention to the happening across the square.

"Harry is there, alone!" Hermione stressed, pointing at the Death Eaters, still throwing their magic at the shielded house. The shield was still holding, but was starting to show signs of strain.

"So little, time," Hermione heard the man mumble to himself. He then smiled widely. "So much punishment!" he announced with glee. "Mazikeen look!," he then exclaimed. "All your wayward brothers are here as well!"

A glance behind showed the tall woman now supporting a gleeful grin. In her hands, a couple of very familiar knives appeared. She swished them around her fingers in an oh-so-familiar-way. Hermione was then taken back as half the woman's face disappeared to show the molten and decaying flesh and bone underneath.

'Demon blades forged in hell?!" The lovable twit was lying to her face with the truth!

The woman was probably the most beautiful yet terrifying person Hermione had ever met, and apparently she was standing at that moment in the presence of the Devil himself!

He was rather dashing-yet-terrifying himself…

"Gather!" Lucifer called towards the square in front of them. All around, Dementors found themselves unable to fly. Their many whisper-shouts of surprise made Hermione dizzy.

"Right then!" the man, Lucifer, said - mostly to himself. He straightened his Jacket and walked purposefully from around the corner and towards the square, in full sight of anyone and everyone. "Can't let young Harry have all the fun!"

"Sir, wait!" Hermione called and rushed after his parting back. She was stopped in her tracks, her mind overwhelmed by the many many terror-stricken screams of the first Dementor being slaughtered.

So I run to the Lord
Please hide me, Lord
Don't you see me prayin'?
All on that day

Harry was slinking his way towards the Death Eaters at the edge of the square. He was walking leisurely, actually. His invisibility was a wondrous thing. It wrapped around him, as if he wasn't part of the surrounding existence at all. He didn't leave any marks walking through the grass and muddy grounds of the garden. There was also that one time, back at school, when a sixth-year Ravenclaw girl threw a bra through where his body should have been - don't ask…

"Don't get cocky!" a warm voice whispered in his mind. "Help is close by."

Harry smiled softly and kept heading towards the first Death Eater in the line. He was almost there when the surprised voices of the Dementors washed through his mind. Those were soon replaced with frightened screams. A glance back showed a slight and tall shadow passing from Dementor to Demeontor, quick as lightning, leaving decaying bodies and clouds of scattering and dissipating souls behind.

In his mind, her presence felt vindicated and delighted.

By now, Harry reached the first Death Eaters in the line. This line, though, wasn't as organised as it was only moments before. They couldn't not notice their 'help's terrified state of mind. Nor could they ignore the Demontors dwindling numbers.

"Keep at it!" Voldemort shouted. "The wards are almost down!"

His men, though, were not listening. They were pointing their wands in all directions, looking for the enemy. Harry now stood behind his intended target. It was oh-so-easy - killing him. Just a knife to the back, or a slash at his throat.

Was it his place to kill?

Killing this man from behind while being invisible was too easy.

Certainly not cricket…

His choice was soon taken away from him. That man found himself with a broken arm and trying to use that arm to hold his bleeding family jowls.

"Never hesitate!" a scornful voice whispered in his ear from behind and sent shivers down his spine. That voice owner was gone, as quickly as she came, heading towards the next Dementor. The Death Eater now fell to the muddy ground screaming. Above him, Harry grimaced in resignation.

A second later his knife found the next-man-in-line's hand. It was ripped back with a spell and a shower of blood, only to embed itself deep into that same person's thigh - with similar results.

"Better!" that former voice whispered once more, as that person fell to the ground as well.

But the Lord said
Go to the Devil, the Lord said
He said go to the Devil
All on that day

Harry moved among the Death Eaters, on his way towards the 'main attraction'. He was reaching the fourth man and was keeping himself away from various rays of magic, which were being targeted at his general direction. That bra might have passed through him with no effect, but she told him not to get cocky and he really didn't want to test that ability against lethal curses.

A Death Eater, a little away from him, pointed his wand in his direction and started to shout out an incantation - One Harry didn't recognise. Harry wasn't visible, but one didn't need to have an Hermione-kind of perceptiveness and intelligence to understand that something was heading that way, leaving bleeding and screaming Death Eaters in its wake. Harry made to step aside, but he needn't be bothered since that wand was gripped and pointed in another direction, to hit one of the Death Eater's comrades. What this curse did to that man convinced Harry to keep avoiding all Magic headed his way - at least for the evening.

"Oh hello!" the well dressed man, holding the Death Eater's hand, told Harry with a wide smile. Harry smiled back. He then remembered that he was invisible. He almost removed his invisibility, yet a ray of magic passing right in front of him convinced him that this might not be the best of ideas. In any case, Lucifer didn't seem to have an issue seeing him.

"Morningstar," Harry nodded respectfully towards the man. He was one of the most powerful beings in the whole creation. He certainly deserved Harry's respect. Harry then smiled lightly and moved on to the next death-eater, neutralizing her with deep stabs to both her upper arms. "You came!"

"I'm a Devil of my word!" Lucifer answered with visible satisfaction. Some pride as well.

The Death Eater Lucifer 'handled', meanwhile, looked in shock at what his curse did to his comrade. Might have even been a friend. Soon he had a hard time watching anything since his hand was broken and twisted to stick his wand into his own eye. It was then pulled back out. The man was incensed with pain and anger. "Avada Kedavra!" he cried out. This time his wand was pointed towards Voldemort. He was then thrown away like the broken and useless doll he now was.

Voldemort stopped the killing curse easily. He used one of the last Death Eaters still standing to do so. He then shouted in rage.

So I ran to the Devil
He was waitin', I ran to the Devil
He was waitin',
all on that day

The shrikes of the Dementors, in their minds, were dwindling now. Also dwindling were the numbers of Dementors still standing. Some went to their knees now, prostrating themselves in front of the same Lord they were rejecting. It didn't seem to help them any.

Around them, the square garden, once cold with fear, magic, and your regular London December temperatures, now felt warm with happiness for all the trapped souls released.

Voldemort shouted his rage once more. On both his sides, the last of the Death Eaters fell, holding the stumps of their wand-hands, courtesy of small, very sharp, curved-knives. These were not Harry's.

"Thanks!" Lucifer called out. The response came as the voices of another Dementor crying out in desperation as it wasted away.

"Little rascal," Lucifer told Harry with clear fondness. "Having fun, here on Earth, with all these Miscreants."

Harry was amused. He didn't fear Voldemort with Lucifer around.

That said, the Dark Lord was unaccustomed to being ignored. "Who are you people?!" he asked in frustration, not really expecting an answer. "Avada Kedavra!" he then called, pointing his wand at Lucifer.

Lucifer didn't move.

"Bloody Hell!" he exclaimed, when the bright green ray of magic hit him right at the chest. He patted himself, looking for damages. "This Magic is marvellous!" he exclaimed happily. "Bullets always ruin my suits."

Up come power! power, Lord
Power! power, Lord…

"Who are you people?!" Voldemort cried out once more. In his voice, only fear remained.

Lucifer took a few brisk steps and soon grabbed and lifted Voldemort by the neck. "Lucifer," he answered. "Morningstar." He then looked back towards Harry with delight. "You never told me that Tom was a fan?" he complained.

Voldmort made a last effort to fight back. He pointed his wand at Harry, but before he could gather enough focus to cast anything, his wand was ripped from his grip and sailed through the air into Hermione's hand. Voldemort's hand was soon broken too - to be on the safe side.

"Hi dear," Harry greeted his girlfriend happily.

Hermione couldn't find anything to be happy about. She was mostly nauseous. She was, however, resolved to help her boyfriend, although, things seem to be well in hand at the moment, pun intended.

Lucifer, meanwhile, turned back to Voldemort and looked with some interest at his red eyes. "Amateur!" he told him. He then flashed his own eyes for a fraction of a second.

Tom screamed. He flailed in Lucifer's hold, trying to get himself free and flee. Lucifer was mostly amused and kept holding him up in the air. Finally, it was all too much and Tom lost the last of his hold on Rabastan's body.

"This isn't his body," A warm voice whispered in Harry's mind. "Call his soul to you," She offered.

Harry hesitated for a short moment. He then thought of the circle-mark on his left palm. A now-familiar vapour, which was what little which remained of Tom's soul, was pulled out of Rabastan's body. It wasn't as solid-looking or focused as former ones were.

"I will…" it started to say, yet dissipated before he could complete more than these words.

"Thanks," Rabastan whispered. His body was then hung limp from Lucifer's hand. A year and a half of being possessed by Voldemort had finally overcome his strength.

For a while, no one said anything.

It's finally over! Harry thought in relief.

"Scrumptious!" Mazikeen said, looking at Hermione with a rather predatory stare. She was wearing her face back, for the lack of a better description, and for a moment - Hermione didn't mind at all, whatever it was.

Harry laughed. "That's exactly what your sisters reckon," he told her.

"Sisters?" Maze was surprised to learn. "Mother?" she then asked with clear hope in her voice.

Harry shrugged. He did notice Lucifer grimace a little, so there was a story there. Was none of his business, though.

Lucifer was soon back being his enthusiastic self. He dropped Rabastan's body and dusted his hands. "We can take a vacation!" he offered. "You can have some quality time with them!"

It was that moment exactly when Remus appeared from around the corner, running towards them from the direction of the Angel tube station.

"The Aurors!" he called out. Quite breathless from the running. He then stopped cold at the sight of the carnage around. "They are held in the Ministry. A few Death Eaters barricaded themselves inside the Floo control office," He explained, still looking around in shock.

The street in front of No 12 and the square's park were littered with decaying Dementor bodies and Death Eaters. Most Death Eaters were broken and wounded and were whimpering in fright and pain.

"What the hell happened here?!" Remus then asked in shock.

"Exactly!" Lucifer answered happily.

AN:

Alright, this brings this story to an end. It was more of a HP story in a Lucifer world. There's a second story in the thought, which will take place much later - in LA, and will be a Lucifer story with Harry (and Hermione!) visiting. They will also both be old enough by then :)
Will probably be a few months till I'll finally put fingers to keyboard, though.

Feel free to review and tell me what you think - It's appreciated!

Many many thanks to flyboy38 my beta, who invested time and effort to make this readable for you all.

Cheers!