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Chapter Text

One of the many reasons that Lucifer detested being the boss of Hell was having to attend meetings. He had to drag himself from his far more interesting rubber duckie projects and portal all the way to a stuffy meeting room where either a bunch of demons who wanted something would suck up to him or have all of his life’s failures thrown in his face by angels. The only meetings he enjoyed attending were with the Lu Lu World managers, because then he could actually talk about something interesting. 

He probably could have skipped this particular meeting with the other sins in favor of perfecting his magic multiplying rubber ducky, but Mammon had been very adamant in the group chat that he should attend. 

“And then that mother fucker SABATAGED and STOLE my most profitable brand baby!”

Lucifer really should have remembered that the last time Mammon wanted him to come to a meeting was to convince Lucifer to murder the V’s for buying his TV station after it went bankrupt. 

“You were taking advantage of my Froggy, he deserves far better than your greedy,  talentless, passionless ass!”

Honestly, Lucifer wanted to meet the imp now. Lucifer already respected this Fizzy character purely on principle for being so great of a performer that two of the seven sins were fighting over him. He was also a clown, which any demon in Hell could agree was the height of the performing arts. Maybe he should double piss off Mammon by offering Fizzy a contract with Lu Lu World. It’s about time Lucifer ended his depressed era and re-entered his homewrecker era. 

Or maybe not considering that homewrecking is what stuck him in Hell and therefore this fucking awful meeting in the first place. 

Charlie was very enthusiastic about the management of Hell when he saw her seven months ago; Lucifer should call her the next time he doesn’t want to attend a meeting. Most of the time they don’t really need Lucifer’s input, they just need someone important to put the royal seal on the paperwork, or someone to bitch to. Besides, involving your child in the family business was a perfectly reasonable excuse to talk to your own daughter. They hadn’t really talked since she asked to use one of his old properties on the third corner of the pentagram. 

“You should make Asmodeus give me ownership to his incredibly tacky but extremely profitable sex club as collateral!”

“You would bankrupt Ozzie’s in a week with your complete lack of style!”

Bee was gleefully filming the entire exchange from the other side of the table. At least someone was enjoying themselves. 

Suddenly, Lucifer felt the familiar pull of a summoning ritual. The summoner fudged it by using stag blood instead of lamb blood, but it was close enough and nobody’s perfect. Apparently the universe wasn’t only full of disappointment today. 

“Gentlemen! I have an excuse—I mean a very necessary and important call from the mortal world that I simply cannot ignore”

Ozzie raised an eyebrow, then gave Mammon a smug smile. Mammon, as always, began bitching. He started on something about how mortal summoners only ever offered useless mortal gold and virgins, but Lucifer was already gone before he was forced to hear one more second of Mammon complaining. 

As the Death Eater’s wands touched the ritual, the pentagram glowed a vibrant red. Soon, the giant symbol lifted off the ground and began to spin rapidly. From the center, a fiery orange circle appears from which Harry could see a being slowly arising. 

Harry didn’t know what he was expecting when Voldemort and his Death Eaters decided to celebrate the Dark Lord’s successful return by sacrificing Harry to the literal King of Hell. Probably some form of giant dementor that would torment him with green flashes of the death of his parents or even twist the knife in the wound recently created by Cedric’s sudden demise. Maybe instead it would be more like the muggle devil: some red goat man with horns and a tail that would dance and laugh with Death Eaters as it tortured him to death. 

Harry would have never anticipated the being that actually emerged from the ritual. 

The first thing Harry noticed was that the devil looked a bit like Voldemort if he opened a muggle circus, because of course Voldemort would look like the devil. It had the same angry red eyes; bone white skin; and flat, snake-like face as its summoner. Unlike Voldemort, it was dressed in a white, old fashioned muggle suit that clashed terribly with the Death Eater’s dark robes. The demon and Voldemort apparently agreed that snakes make the best evil mascot, because it sported a comically large top hat decorated with a glowing golden snake coiling around an apple. It reminded Harry of going to church with the Dursly’s before they started locking him in the cupboard every Sunday morning, where the pasture told of how the devil took the form of a snake and created sin by offering Eve the apple of knowledge.

“Noble King of the underworld, I, Lord Voldemort, offer you this sacrifice.”

The being had to look up in order to make eye contact with its summoner. It was surprisingly short for a supposed King of Hell, but that smile full of razor sharp teeth certainly made up for any menace lost by its stature. 

“I, Lucifer Morningstar, will see your sacrifi—AWWWWWWW! What a cute whittle snakey!”

Voldemort seemingly lost all attention from the demon in favor of his pet snake Nagini. It abruptly left the ritual circle to coo over the snake while the throng of Death Eaters on that side of the pentagram gasped and shouted in horror. One voice that sounded suspiciously like Lucius Malfoy even let out a high pitched scream of terror. 

“Who’s a hungry wittle guy,” the demon said as it pulled a suspiciously green piece of meat out of seemingly nowhere, “who wants a treat? You do!” 

“Yesssss, I hunger for flesh great angel. Let me feast on the creatures of hell.”

Harry wanted to laugh at Voldemort being shown up by his own snake, but he was unfortunately still gagged, so what came out was more of a breathy gurgle muted by the badly tasting cloth still stuck in his mouth. He hoped the demon would kill Voldemort and steal his snake. 

Voldemort himself seemed appalled at being ignored, but quickly regained his composure. “Ah yes, my Nagini is a truly magnificent creature, a fine specimen of the most noble creatures…”

“He reminds me of the one I used to have—until fucking Adam got bitchy about me stealing his wife and murdered my poor wittle guy.”

“...but I did not summon you here to admire my pet”

“Of course!” The demon, Lucifer, twirled its cane and turned back to the Dark Lord and his cowering followers. “Normally I’ll charge a sacrificial lamb, but a stag will definitely do. I haven’t had venison for a while, and I can’t complain about one less deer in the world. I'll inspect the offering, then you can give me your request.”

Half of Harry was a little insulted that Lucifer seemed to think he was an animal; the other half was fearing for his mortal soul because this demon planned on eating him. He tried squirming against the restraints tying him to the headstone, but all that did was aggravate the blisters forming around his wrists from the tight coils keeping them in place. Apparently, Harry managed to make some noise in his endeavor, because the snake faced pair turned their attention to him. 

“I offer you far more than a mere animal soul, demon. I present to you Harry Potter”

Lucifer’s sharp grin turned into a frown when it saw Harry. Harry felt the overwhelming urge to run away screaming as two pairs of unnaturally red eyes bore into him. To his minor relief, the pair belonging to Lucifer quickly snapped back to Voldemort after only a second of inspecting Harry. 

“Fuck, why do the cults always assume I want children or virgins!? It clearly says on my website that I charge sacrificial lambs!” The demon waved its cane angrily as it started to pace around the pentagram. As it would seem, Lucifer did not hunger for human flesh. 

“Website???”

“Fucking Wizards, I gave humans free will so that they would create progress, but you assholes live in the stone age on purpose .”

“HOW DARE YOU INSU—”

“NO HOW DARE YOU…”

It was almost comical to see Voldemort completely aghast as a demon roughly half his size paced around him on an angry rant about wizards and human sacrifices. “...enough souls in Hell! Why do those fuckers always think I want MORE assholes in Hell to deal with? At least the teenagers that summon me as a joke have the decency to actually follow the instructions…” Maybe it would solve half of Harry’s problems and just kill the Dark Lord there and then. 

“...and the fucking children too! Do they think I want to raise another daughter that hates my guts and never calls…”

The Dark Lord in question seemed to give up on getting a word in and instead turned to his Death Eaters. “Wormtail! You found this ritual! Why won’t this creature take my sacrifice!?” Voldemort demanded as the demon continued his passionate rant, uncaring of the Dark Lord's input. 

The shaking and whimpering figure of Wormtail, who had been hiding behind a gravestone since Lucifer appeared, came out hesitantly at the call of his master. He clutched his new metal hand tightly as he desperately attempted to formulate a response that would please the Dark Lord, or at least prevent his master from taking two hands, or perhaps his head, this time. 

“Forgive me master, the tome I found did not mention what manner of sacrifice was required, only that a sacrifice was necessary!” 

“Why did that creature think Potter was a Deer!?” 

“W-well you see… Prongs—that is James Potter—w-was a err… Stag animagus, and w-well perhaps…”

Harry's focus was quickly stolen from Voldemort’s interrogation of Wormtail when Lucifer suddenly waltzed up to Harry. At this uncomfortably close distance, Harry could see that it was even shorter and lither than Harry, who was one of the shortest and lithest in his year. 

“Sorry for the inconvenience virgin sacrifice—Perry was it?—how about I give you a freebie? I'd be a waste to get summoned and not offer my services. Got any projects that could use a little bit of pure angelic power, kid?”

Lucifer vanished the gag and the restraints holding Harry to the headstone, and Harry wasted no time in responding to Lucifer’s offer. There was only one thing he wanted more than anything right now, so he pointed into the graveyard where Cedric’s body had been carelessly thrown to make room for the ritual. 

“Cedric—cough cough—bring back Cedric”

The demon followed Harry’s gesture to the still cooling body, gave it a considering look, then furrowed his eyebrows and glanced away sheepishly. Harry began scratching at the already drying blood covering his itchy forearms. 

“Sorry Perry, I uhh… can’t really restore mortal souls, but if you think your friend ended up in hell, I can definitely send them a message.”

Harry shook his head. He couldn’t think of a single person less likely to end up in Hell than Cedric. 

“Hmmm… Oh! How about I remove the claim that Voldamont fellow has on your soul? You look a bit young to be making soul contracts.”

Harry had about zero idea what the demon was talking about. He wouldn’t make any sort of contract with Voldemort in a million years, much less one involving his soul. Maybe it was a part of that dreadful ritual that revived the Dark Lord. He had said something about sharing his blood to break his mother’s magical protection. 

But before Harry had time to consider this new development, the Dark Lord in question had finished degrading Wormtail from a sniveling rat to some impossibly lower form of existence and was back to dealing with Lucifer. 

“Demon! If this sacrifice is inadequate, then you have no further use here. I release this ritual so that you may return to your underworld. Depulso Infernum !”

From Voldemort’s wand came a bright beam of yellow aimed straight at Lucifer, but it fizzled uselessly when Lucifer blocked it with the apple-shaped head of his cane. Voldemort's eyes glowed red with rage at the demon’s easy dismissal of his attack, but turned to fear when Lucifer took a step in his direction. The demon’s crimson cheeks rose  as it suddenly gained an impossibly wide grin. Voldemort raised his wand to ready another spell. 

“Ha ha ha, silly wizard”

“Crucio”

“Don’t you know”

“Transmogrify”

“When you invite a demon into your house”

“Sectumsempra”

“You invite them to set their own rules”

“Avada Kedavra”

“Besides,” Lucifer pulled out a golden, apple-shaped pocket watch from his suit (Harry was sensing a theme here), “I need to kill at least another two hours to make sure Mammon isn’t still there bitching when I get back.” Lucifer returned his gaze to a very awestruck Harry. “Hey Perry, how about I take you on a trip to somewhere nicer than this dank old graveyard, then we can hash out terms. Anywhere you need to be?” 

“Hogwarts… The Quidditch field. Bring Cedric… his parents deserve a body to bury.”

Lucifer pointed his cane at Cedric, and the corpse was suddenly levitating next to them. In front of Tom Riddle’s grave, the fabric of reality split before Lucifer to create a golden gateway to anywhere Lucifer desired. 

“Welp, off we go! Bye wizard assholes!”

Lucifer waved at Voldemort and his throng of Death Eaters as he grabbed Harry by the wrist and dragged him through a bright orange portal, just like the one he had first come out of.  The last thing that Harry heard before he went through was a melodramatic “NNNOOOOO” from Voldemort as he futilely shot one last curse at Lucifer. 

Chapter Text

“It's like, virgins make the worst fuckin' cash cows. They're a bunch of  whiny bitches. Why would I want the soul of a whiny bitch?”

“Mammon, you are the most disgusting thing in all seven rings of hell”

“Fuck you Ozzie”

Dumbledore has been through many stressful times in his long (and he means long ) 113 years of life. Popular columnist Rita Skeeter had once accused him of becoming senile in his old age when he said that he was 150 in an interview, but it really felt like he was closer to 200 at this point.

Frankly, Dumbledore felt like he deserved to go a little senile after the lot he's been through. Since he was 9, it’s been one crisis after the other. The last four years in particular have more than earned their place in the stressful times for Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore Trophy Hall. From uncovering Voldemort inside of Hogwarts walls not once but twice , discovering that Dumbledore had helped condemn a close ally and entirely innocent man to thirteen years in Azkaban, to some currently unknown entity undermining one of the oldest and most sacred rituals in Wizard history . 

Dumbledore discreetly popped another gummy bear into his mouth from his secret stash. Dramatically large sleeves made surprisingly good candy storage. 

It almost made him feel less soul crushing guilt that the grand plan to vanquish the Dark Lord involved Harry dying before he could even reach his prime years. The way the boy’s education was going so far, it was likely that he would feel 150 before he reached 50 if he managed to live past the age of 20. A 200 year old man could use a little less soul crushing guilt in these trying times. 

Down went another bear. Mmmmm, grape flavored.

Dumbledore’s internal pity parade, however, was interrupted by an uncharacteristically panicked Severus entering the stands and marching up to Dumbledore. Dumbledore’s bright blue eyes quickly filled with bright blue dread when they saw the very specific arm that the Potion Master was clutching. 

“I think you ought to know that Kakaroff had to leave early due to an emergency in Bulgaria”

Heedful of the many witnesses cheerfully discussing the tournament as they waited for the winner to appear, Dumbledore kept his demeanor calm and composed as he responded. 

“ How long Severus ?”

“Twenty minutes. I went to search for the boy as soon as I felt it,” Severus lowered his voice and brought his head in closer, “there’s no one left in the labyrinth and the cup is gone.” 

Before Dumbledore had time to unpack this stressing new development, the crowd suddenly grew noticeably noisier. Turning his attention to the field, Dumbledore could see that the crowd was gawking at a golden circular shape that had manifested right where the portkey was supposed to appear. Dumbledore drew his wand and Severus followed. 

Then, the circle spit out a body that rather than landing on the ground, levitated as though affected by a spellcaster on the other side of the portal. It was very clearly Cedric Diggory, with torn robes and an expressionless face smeared with mud. Dumbledore started pushing his way through the crowd to where it had appeared, mimicked by the ever vigilant Alastor, who never failed to be the first to react to any situation. At that moment, Dumbledore was ready to take on Voldemort himself if he emerged from that portal. 

Except what emerged instead was somehow even worse. 

During his youth, Dumbledore spent hours upon hours  with Gellert researching the nature of the dead in their quest for the Deathly Hallows. As such, Dumbledore could never mistake the being that came through the portal, dragging a thankfully alive Harry Potter behind him. He had read many forbidden tomes with the symbol of the apple and the snake on that being’s hat. 

Voldemort was back, and he had brought forth the King of Hell.

As it would seem, Lucifer had interrupted some sort of sporting event, which he knew mortals cared about more zealously than even religion. Luckily, Lucifer was no stranger to party crashing, so he knew just what to say to prevent the crowd from turning on the poor virgin sacrifice Perry for interrupting their sacred sporting ritual. 

“Some Voldemont asshole ruined your sportsball game and also murdered that kid!”

Now the crowd would form an angry mob and target the guy trying to sacrifice a virgin instead of a nice juicy lamb instead of poor innocent Perry. All the angels calling him the most detested being in existence didn’t know what they were talking about: Lucifer was such a considerate guy. 

However, to his surprise, the crowd started screaming in terror rather than anger. Maybe being surrounded by sinners all the time for thousands of years has affected his ability to read a crowd. Mortals began fleeing from the sportsball stands rather than mobbing. Perry’s friend seemed less likely to be trampled by a mob, so Lucifer let the body float gently to the ground. 

  A notable few were pushing to get closer to Lucifer rather than away. A man and a woman that closely resembled the dead body—Cedric—had broken from the crowd and were now sobbing and cursing that Voldemont guy whilst hugging the body. Lucifer felt a bit sorry for the couple; nothing sucked quite as much as losing your child. 

“Sorry for your loss, have a duckie.”

Lucifer tossed over Chuckie: The duckie version of Charlie. Lucifer had impeccable aim, so it bounced off of Cedrics head with a squeak then pooped a rainbow. Hopefully the couple didn’t care about those robes because Lucifer knows from experience that Chuckie’s rainbows do not wash out. 

Also holding their ground, and notably not screaming in terror or sobbing in grief, was a really old man with a really long beard, a guy with horrendously greasy hair, and a redhead with one eye noticeably larger than the other. 

“Harry! What is this creature? Did the Dark Lord summon it?” The redhead said as he made a beeline for Perry, but before Lucifer needed to stop him, the really old guy interjected—

“Alastor! Be weary; That’s Lucifer Morningstar!”

The redhead looked vaguely confused and slightly disgruntled at being interrupted. He seemed suspiciously excited compared to the more weary Old Guy and Greasy. His eyes had the same anticipatory glint that Razzle and Dazzle got when they were about to play fetch. 

Suddenly, Perry spoke up again. 

“Professor Moody! Professor Dumbledore! Voldemort’s back! He killed Cedric— he said there was a Death Eater at Hogwarts!”

Death Eaters? What was this cannibal town? Maybe he meant all those assholes with the weird masks that were a part of Voldemont’s cult. Come to think of it… both Greasy and Eyeball had traces of Voldemont’s magic on them. Lucifer looked them over. Greasy and Old Guy were staring intently into each other’s eyes, sharing a knowing look indicative of either a deep romantic bond, or a silent conversation. Probably the latter considering the circumstances, but Lucifer would not discount the former. 

Redhead McScarface, on the other hand, looked incredibly smug at Perry’s exclamation. Definitely a traitor kind of look. Especially, considering that his name was apparently Alastor. Only the worst of assholes could ever be named Alastor. 

“Oh he was probably talking about the Redhead with the eyeball.” Lucifer pointed with his staff,.“He’s got that Voldemont guy’s magic all over him.”

Said Redhead was given no time to defend himself before Greasy and Old Guy shot him with some red spell, and he was on the ground. A tall Old Lady with a very classy pointed hat came out of nowhere and used another spell to tie up Redhead with magical ropes. 

“I always thought his flask stank of polyjuice,” said Greasy with a scowl.

Old Guy stepped forward and bowed. “Thank you, Lord Morningstar, for your assistance in catching the traitor. What business do you have in the mortal realm?” He stared Lucifer down with that reverent yet cautious look that he always got from demons afraid that he would smite them for existing. Ugh, dealing with respectful people was so awkward. 

“Oh, just call me Lucifer.” He gave a shallow bow in return. “That Voldemont guy didn’t check my website before doing a summoning ritual and tried to sacrifice Perry—”

“It’s Harry Your Majesty Sir,” said Perry. 

“—Harry here instead of a sacrificial lamb, so I’m giving the kid a freebie as compensation.” 

Old Guy and Greasy once again started staring into each other's eyes, but before they finished their silent conversation, Classy Old Lady entered the conversation. 

“Harry is a minor and has no business making deals with demons without adult supervision.”

Which was a surprisingly responsible point for a wizard to make. With one sentence she'd shown more poise and rationality than Lucifer’s seen from a demon in the last thousand years. 

“That is…entirely reasonable. Who might you be madam?” Lucifer answered with a bow, deeper than the one he gave Old Guy a few moments before.  

“Minerva McGonagall.” She curtsied in return. “I'm Harry's head of House and therefore responsible for preventing him from entering into any unfair magical contracts.” 

Oh! She was the matriarch. Lucifer thought that mortals stopped governing with familial Clans and Houses hundreds of years ago. Then again, fucking wizards were notoriously archaic in most aspects, so perhaps they were still operating on the feudal system despite the rest of humanity moving on to more convoluted methods of government. 

“Of course Lady McGonagalds—”

“It's McGonagall Sir,” said P-Harry.

“—McGonagall! We all want to make sure that the kid’s best interests are met.”

“In that case,” interjected Old Guy, probably less afraid of being smited now that he had a Classy Lady to hide behind, “why don't Minerva and I go to my office to negotiate while Severus takes care of our impostor?”

Ballsy of Old Guy to try and take charge of the situation when this was clearly Lady McGonagall’s conversation, but both Harry and McGonagall acquiesced to his suggestion, so Lucifer didn't call him out. Soon, they began to trek through the noticeably less crowded sportsball stand to the seven story castle a short distance away. Lucifer probably could have portaled them there, but he had time to kill… and he hadn't taken a proper walk in over 2 years.

“Lead the way Old Guy; this angel’s got a meeting to avoid.”