March One-Shot: Hazbin Hotel X-over (Patreon)

Stop me if you've heard this before, but I find myself having written a one-shot that couldn't just be a one-shot. This will probably be just one more chapter after this one, so nothing too crazy. Either way, hope you enjoy.

...

Harry Potter could barely see. He was surrounded by people, but they were nothing but blurs to him, indistinguishable blobs.

His brain couldn't function properly. These people must be family, but he had no idea who any of them were. His wife had passed years ago, and for the life of him, he couldn't recall any of his children's names.

For the life of him.

It was such a funny phrase to use in the moment, considering how very little of it he had left.

He was content, even if he was more than a little bit scared. He knew not to fear death, that he should meet it as an old friend, but he was blind and deaf and alone, and he couldn't move his limbs.

Harry Potter, aged one hundred and forty, took his last breath, surrounded by loved ones but feeling desperately alone.

…

The white light was blinding, and yet Harry felt no need to cover his eyes.

“Hey there! Welcome to heaven! Nice to meet ya, I'm St. Peter!”

Harry shook his head before everything came into focus.

It was the stereotypical image. A white fluffy clout with big, golden gates, presided over by a single, very preppy looking angel standing behind a podium.

“Wow. Err… I don't remember it looking like this the last time I died.” Harry said, his trip to King's Cross station clear in his mind.

Harry looked down at himself and noticed that his body looked younger, much younger. He appeared to be in the prime of his life, right in his mid-twenties.

“Last time you died?” St Peter shook his head with a smile. “You earth people can be so funny! Anyways, let's find your name in here, shall we?”

“Sure. Err… it's Harry Potter.”

“Harry Potter. Got it. This should just be a moment!”

He began rifling through the pages of his big book as Harry waited around. There wasn't much to see here besides endless white, and so he spent his time marveling at the fact that his joints no longer ached and his body felt spry and youthful.

“Ah, here we are!” St. Peter placed his finger on the book. “Harry James Potter. Quite an eventful life, I must say. And you had the gift of magic, too!”

Harry smiled a bit nervously. “That won't be a problem, will it?” With heaven resembling the Cristian conception so heavily, he was worried that he'd be kicked down to hell just for being a wizard.

St Peter waved him off. “Oh, don't worry about that, silly! Those born with magic are as much our children as any other. Now, lets see here.”

St. Peter's eyes swept over what Harry assumed was a summary of his life, and to the raven haired wizard's great consternation, the smile on his face fell more and more with each line he read.

“Err… is everything alright?” Harry knew he hadn't been perfect, but he figured defeating the most terrifying Dark Lord of the twentieth century would have earned him some brownie points. Unless ‘Thou shall not kill’ was a hard and fast rule.

“I'm sorry, sir. But it says here you murdered and tortured thousands, started a war over blood purity and planned to commit genocide on those who you deemed not pure.”

“What?!” Harry screamed. “No, that wasn't me! That was Voldemort! Tom Riddle! I fought against him!”

“Tom Riddle.” St. Peter mumbled as he flipped through the pages, finding the other name much quicker this time.

“Ah, yes, he was judged over a century ago. Hmmm, his list of sins is suspiciously similar to yours.”

“That's because he did all that stuff!” Harry exclaimed. “Wait… you know, I carried a piece of his soul inside my head from when I was one until I was seventeen, do you think that could be the reason?”

“Carried a piece of his soul? Hmmm, that is very unusual.” St. Peter looked down at Harry, “Tell you what, wait here while I go find someone.”

The angel floated off the podium, his golden wings fluttering as he flew off and disappeared behind the golden gates.

“Well fuck.”

…

Harry didn't know how time worked in the afterlife, but it felt like quite a while before Peter returned with a man trailing behind him.

Well, Harry assumed it was a man. He wore the same flowing robe as St. Peter and he sported a pair of massive golden wings. But instead of a human face, he had a strange, black visage, with a pair of long black horns protruding from the back of his head and curving downward.

He was also slurping on a soda as he trailed behind the judge of souls.

“This is the guy?” He gestured towards Harry in a bored tone.

“That's the one, Mr. Adam.”

Harry held his hand out as the man approached. “Harry Potter, its an honour to meet you, sir.” Harry wasn't sure if this was the Adam from the biblical story, but figured it would be best for him to just be as polite as possible going forward.

Adam took one glance at his hand and snorted. “What, you want me to shake your hand? What a fucking mark. Anyways, what's the hold up here? Just send him down to hell with the rest of the losers.”

“Like I said before, sir, he claims that he didn't commit those sins.”

“And you believe him, numbnuts?! William H Macy! How long have you been at this, Pete?”

“Sir.” Harry jumped in. “Those sins were committed by my mortal enemy, Voldemort. I had a piece of his soul in my head for a while, that's why they got bunched in with mine.”

“That is the stupidest shit I have ever heard.” Adam took a long slurp from his drink.

“It's the truth!” Harry protested, now losing all sense of decorum in the face of this supreme asshole.

“Tell you what, bud. You find this Moldywart down in hell, and if you two butt buddies can figure out a way back up here, we'll get all this nice and sorted out.”

Adam snapped his fingers, and a hole suddenly opened up in the cloud, directly underneath Harry.

“Shit!” Was all the Man-Who-Conquered managed to say before he unceremoniously plummeted away from heaven.

“Good luck with that little mission, retard!”

…

The streets of hell were dirty and grimy. They reminded Harry of the worst parts of London dialed up to the nth degree. Shady figures scurried this and that, drug deals happened out in the open, and he'd caught more than a few couples (and one group of five hellions) having sex out in the open.

Harry felt tense as he walked around aimlessly, unsure of what he was to do. At least it seemed like hell had some sort of structure, there were shops all around, along with adverts and tv screens and the like. Everything was vulgar, but it seemed that it wasn't just a massive free for all.

Harry also noted how no one here appeared human, at least not fully. Everywhere he looked, there were humanoid creatures of all species, multiple extra limbs, horns, tails, etc. And those were the most normal looking denizens, he'd seen a group of jumbo sized eggs with faces and limbs just running about.

He caught a glimpse of himself in one of the shop windows and gasped. He still recognized himself under it all, but there had been some changes in his transition to Hell. He was taller than he'd ever been in life, around six-four, with a lanky frame. His skin had turned a light grey, he could see a pair of fangs poking out from his mouth, he had two horns sprouting from his head and his famous emerald eyes now gave off a decidedly unnatural glow. For the first time, Harry also recognized the thin black tail that was swishing behind him, its spaded tip sharp as a poker.

He blended in, or at least, he would have if he wasn't acting so obviously out of place.

“Hey boys, I think we got a newbie on our hands!”

Harry spun around to see a gang of about three sharks and two imps, all sporting evil grins as they circled around him. They were all quite tall and muscular, and the shark that had spoken was twirling around a rather large knife, which seemed superfluous considering his endless rows of razor sharp teeth.

“Have you been stabbed yet, newbie? It's kind of a tradition down here, you know, everyone gets stabbed at least once.”

The others chuckled darkly as they closed in on him. Harry gulped. Would he die if they stabbed him enough times? Or would he just continue on, crippled for eternity?

He didn't care to find out, and out of a reflex borne from decades as an auror, Harry brandished his wand and silently cast a depulso.

His hand was empty. Because of course he didn't have a wand, but his dismay was short-lived, because he felt that same energy coiled up inside of him explode outward, flinging the group of hellions in all directions.

He still had his magic!

“Fuck, Roger! Of course you try to fuck with the one newbie with demon powers!” One of the others cursed as he dusted himself off.

The group scurried away, leaving Harry alone in the middle of the street, staring down at his hands.

He felt a lot more secure now that he could use magic, and it amazed him that it seemed to come much easier to him now that he was dead.

He glanced at a shop window and focused on a mannequin. With just a little bit of intent, the mannequin turned into a snake.

“Nice.” Harry smiled.

He was in hell. He had his magic. Those were the basic facts. But he needed to gather information, and fast.

“Welcome to the evening edition of 666 News!”

Harry looked over at the shop on the opposite end of the street, where a demonic newscaster and her co-anchor wearing a gas mask launched into a report.

Well, catching the news would be a good place to start, he figured.

…

“Anyone seen that overgrown garden snake?”

Husk seemed particularly irritated this morning, but as always, Charlie sent him her most upbeat smile. “Do you mean Sir Pentious?”

The cat demon rolled his eyes, “No, I mean the other annoying serpent that lives here.”

Charlie put a finger under her chin as she looked up in thought. “I don't think we have another one of those, Husk.”

Vaggie sighed. “He was being sarcastic, Charlie.” She glanced over at Husk. “What's the problem?”

“He shed his skin all around my bar! Its all dry and papery and it's everywhere!”

“Hah! I have something that's wet and sticky and also gets everywhere, I can show you, for the right price.”

Angel Dust's arrival led to Husk becoming sidetracked, and before Charlie could mutter up a word, Vaggie put a finger over her lips.

Husk and Angel dust fell into their bizarre flirting ritual, and completely forgot about Vaggie and Charlie.

“See, just let them be and they'll get distracted on their own.”

There was a loud knock at the door that caused the girls to share a look.

They walked over to the hotel's big double doors. Vaggie opened the door, her eyes narrowing into slits.

A handsome demon was standing before them, and she didn't miss the slight reddening on Charlie's cheeks.

The raven haired demon with glowing green eyes looked bashful, sporting a nervous smile as he introduced himself. “Erm… hello there, I heard you guys offered free lodging?”

Charlie's eyes went wide as she squealed. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

She grabbed onto the demon's arm and tugged him into the hotel, practically dragging him in behind her as she began showing him around.

“So this is the lobby, and this is the bar, that's Husk, our friendly neighborhood bartender! And that's Angel Dust, our friendly neighborhood… friend! And these are the stairs, and this-”

She was talking a mile a minute, and Harry found himself being taken for a ride, unable to get a word in edgewise.

It seemed like Charlie was going to drag him through the entire hotel, but Vaggie stepped in, stopping her girlfriend in her tracks as she held her hands at her hips and eyed the newcomer critically.

“What's your name?” She asked.

Harry took the opportunity to pull away slightly from Charlie's death grip.

“Err, right, well, my name is Harry Potter-”

“Ooooh, British accent. How debonair.” Angel Dust quipped from the bar. “Can you say ‘tip tip cheerio’?”

“Why do you want to stay here?”

“I, well… I need a place to stay, and this hotel seems to be the safest place to be.”

The others shared sidelong glances, choosing not to dissuade him of that lie.

“You see, I just got here like twenty minutes ago-”

Charlie gasped. “You're a new arrival?! And you already want to look for redemption?!”

She was practically bouncing in excitement while Vaggie continued to eye him suspiciously. “You've been in hell twenty minutes and you knew to come here?”

“I saw an advert on the telly.”

Suddenly, the lobby took on a crimson glint. Harry watched shadows begin to coalesce into a single spot before they sprouted upward.

“Why, hello my good fellow!”

A demon clad in red and holding what appeared to be an old timey microphone stood before him. At once, Harry felt his power and knew that this was someone not to be trifled with.

And his voice was very… particular.

“You sound like you're on the wireless.”

“Wireless?” He asked in an amused tone. “What a quaint turn of phrase! I must say, I like the cut of your jib!”

Harry wasn't sure whether he liked the demon's deranged smile, but figuring he was in a safe place, he held his hand out to shake.

“Alastor's the name, also known as the Radio Demon!”

Harry shook the demon's hand, trying to supress the unsettling feeling in his gut.

“Ouch!”

Something had crashed onto Harry's leg, and as he looked down, he found himself eye to (single) eye with a diminutive demon dressed as a maid.

She was rocking like a child on a sugar rush. Harry waved absently at her. “Hi? I'm Harry.”

“NIFFTY!” She shouted before producing a large knife. “Have you had your stabbing yet?!”

“Leets not do that.” Charlie quickly rushed to try and take the knife from the little demon, who hid it behind her back and scampered off while cackling madly.

Charlie's smile was now a little bit more strained as she touched his arm once more. “I hope you're not discouraged! Everyone here is really great once you get to know them.”

Harry smiled. “I've been in worse environments.”

He would take this over the Dursleys any day of the week.

“Let me show you to your room!” Charlie pulled him towards the stairs, and soon the two of them were headed up with a disgruntled Vaggie trailing along.

…

“Do you like it?”

Harry smiled. “It's great.”

It was a simple room, but it was tastefully decorated, and the bed looked rather comfortable. It was leagues better than what Harry had expected from Hell.

“We should give him some time to settle in,” Vaggie said as she made to pull Charlie out of the room.

Harry raised his hand up, “Err, actually, I did have one more thing.”

“Oh?”

“Well, you see, I saw on the news that you're the princess of Hell, and I was wondering if-”

“Aha!” Vaggie jumped between him and Charlie. “So you are just some schemer here to take advantage of us!”

Harry shook his hands fervently. “Not at all, it's just-”

“Who sent you? Was it Vox?”

“No one sent me!”

“Vaggie!” Charlie pushed her girlfriend aside. “Can you let him talk?” She smiled at Harry, and he couldn't help but notice just how cute she looked in her red tuxedo and with those red spots on her cheeks.

“Go ahead, what can I help you with?”

Harry launched into his story. He told them an abridged summary of his life, he told them about being cast out from Heaven and his need to find Tom Riddle wherever he was in hell.

Vaggie was looking at him skeptically, but it was clear that deep down, the jealous girl believed his words.

“Oh my stars!” Charlie clapped her hands together in excitement. “This is right up our alley! If we help you find Tom Riddle and we can get him to apologize to you and explain himself, it'll help prove to heaven that sinners can be redeemed.”

Harry refrained from expressing his doubts about Voldemort ever seeking redemption or apologizing to him. He just needed to find Tom. Though he did have some fears.

“What if he's a super powerful lord?”

Charlie and Vaggie shared confused looks.

“I know all the lords of Hell, Harry, there's not one of them named Voldemort.”

The shock was quite evident on Harry's face.

Vaggie scoffed. “What's got you so surprised?”

Harry shook his head. “Nothing, it's just, Voldemort was a really powerful wizard when he was alive. I'm just surprised he hasn't been raising hell down here. Err… pun not intended.”

“Wizards and witches don't get to keep their magic when they die.” Vaggie explained matter of factly. “Otherwise, heaven and hell would be full of uncontrollable mages.”

“Morgan Le Fay is a really good seamstress.” Charlie chipped in. “She's a really nice lady! She's the one who tailored my suit!”

This revelation just left Harry even more perplexed. Maybe he'd hallucinated his previous bout of magic? But it had all felt so real.

“Then how come I can do this?”

He snapped his fingers and the bed behind him turned into a bathtub.

It was ridiculous how seamless it had all felt. Even after a decades long career as an auror, Harry had only considered himself an above average wizard. He had definitely not been a magical prodigy on the level of Voldemort or Dumbledore.

Yet now, after death, it was like magic had become second nature to him.

“That… that's just like my dad's magic.” Charlie said in an awed voice.

She was looking at him with an entire new glint in her eyes, a look of pure hope as she clasped her hands together. “Oh please, please, please, please, could you help us? With you and Alastor around, it would do wonders to make our hotel feel a lot safer for our guests.”

“It's the least I can do, considering everything you've done for me.”

Charlie threw her arms around his neck in a hug, and Harry made sure to keep his arms wide and out of the way as he avoided Vaggie's disapproving glare.

…

It turned out that dying, falling from heaven and then wading your way through hell was an exhausting experience all around.

After Vaggie and Charlie had left, it had taken no time at all for Harry to drift off into the land of dreams.

He was dead, yet he was having dreams. How was being dead different from being alive? Was this just another layer in a never ending pyramid?

If Harry could have been capable of answering those questions in his sleep, he never got the chance to, because he was jolted awake by a strange sensation in his body.

It took him a bit to fight through the fog of sleep and locate the source of that feeling. It was a feeling he'd become very familiar with throughout his life, though in his old age he'd gone well over a decade without experiencing it.

Someone had his cock in their mouth.

All his synapses sparked and his neurons went to work deciphering exactly what that phrase meant. Their work complete, they then sent that information to the frontal lobe.

Wait. Someone had his cock in their mouth!

Harry jolted upright, throwing the sheet off of himself.

A gigantic black iris surrounded by a sea of red stared back at him as Niffty bobbed her head on his long, stiff cock.

The little demoness was still wearing her maid outfit, and her eyes were as deranged as ever as her black lips were wrapped around his shaft and she took his cock down her throat.

“Wh-Aaaah!”

Harry meant to throw her off of him, but instead he found his hand buried in her short auburn hair as the little imp smiled around his cock, her bobbing becoming more frantic as her small hands wrapped around his shaft.

Harry bit his lip as he stared down at her and she maintained eye contact the entire way through. Her slobber was getting all over the place as she took him as deep as she could manage.

It seemed that his cock had also received a makeover in the trip to hell.

His grey member was much bigger and thicker than it had been in life, and to his astonishment, he could see ridges lining its length.

Not that those hard bumps did anything to stop Niffty as she took him all the way down her throat.

She was so tiny, it was an absolute miracle that she could take him all the way down to the base, her esophagus burbling around his head as her lips kissed his pubic bone.

Harry hissed as he roughly tugged at her hair. From the way her feet were kicking behind her, it was clear that she more than enjoyed the treatment.

Niffty kept his cock lodged firmly in her throat. Harry could actually see the ridges of his shaft as they pressed dangerously against the diminutive demon's neck.

Her tongue was long and thin, and it was expanding her throat whenever it wrapped around his shaft and lubricated it with her saliva.

Then, Niffty pulled her tongue all the way back, and before Harry could find a moment to wonder just how she had done that, she was tickling the slit of his bulbous head.

“Fuck!” Harry pulled her head against his crotch, her noseless face pressing hard against his pelvis.

Her tongue trailed a slow path across the slit, and then, it pulled back even further before stabbing down.

Harry's eyes rolled to the back of his head as her small tongue somehow invaded his urethra. His toes curled as her tongue reached all the way down to the base, until it was licking right around the same spot where her lips were firmly planted.

“Oooh, oh fuck!” Harry was gripping the life out of the sheets as he lost control of himself. He'd never had a blowjob anywhere near the sheer insanity of this one, and there was nothing he could do to stop his balls from emptying as his seed erupted into his shaft.

Only, Niffty's tongue was still there, blocking the passage, and so the burning white goo began to back up, the pressure building and building as Harry began to develop cold sweats.

Nifty's throat rumbled and vibrated around his cock, and one look at her eye told Harry all he needed to know. The little psychotic bitch was laughing.

His seed kept on building and building against the stopper of her tongue. Harry's body began to tremble at his denied release, and he got quite a shock when the bed itself began shaking uncontrollably, the nearby nightstand clattering away. It was as if an earthquake had gone off, localized solely within the confines of this room.

“Aaaaargh!”

It was like a blast from a cannon. His surge of thick, gooey cum finally won out and blasted Niffty halfway across the room. Buckshot-loads of cum erupted from Harry's cock, splattering across the opposite wall and the nightstand, with some coating the bedsheets.

Harry took deep breaths as he tried to come down from the most stressful and yet greatest release of his life. When his ears stopped ringing, he began to hear shrill, deranged giggles, and he raised his head up to see Niffty getting up from the floor.

Her face and hair were absolutely caked in cum, some even dripping down to her eyeball, which didn't seem to bother the little demon. She was cackling madly, her tongue swirling out to collect his seed while she rubbed the rest onto her skin.

“Yummy! Yummy yummy yum yum!”

She was shoveling sizable globs of cum into her mouth now as she looked at Harry with a shark-like grin.

“you're a bad boy! You're my boyfriend now, ok!”

She didn't wait for a response. Instead, she got to work, proving she truly was a maid as she crawled around the room like a child on a sugar rush, licking up every single spot of cum she could find.

Then she climbed onto the bed and did the same to the sheets, sucking and slurping the little pools of seed before they dried up completely. When she was done, she scurried up the bed, gave Harry a loud smooch on the cheek and then snuggled in under the sheets with him.

“GOOD NIGHT!” She yelled loudly before she snapped her fingers and the lights went off. Two seconds later, she was loudly snoring as her body nestled in on his chest.

Harry had no clue what to do, though he was very hesitant to push the deranged demoness away or disturb her in any way.

Besides, he couldn't deny that she had just given him the greatest blowjob and orgasm of his life.

And so, Harry found himself drifting off to sleep, even while the little murder imp kicked and jerked randomly beside him.

…

Harry awoke once more to knocking at his door. He rolled over in bed, startling when he pressed down on something slimy and squishy.

“Gah!”

Harry jumped off the bed and pulled the sheets away. Niffty was gone, and in her place was a still throbbing, beating heart that was seeping blood onto the bedding.

Written in blood under the heart were the words:

Love you love you love you! Have to work love you! You can eat it if you want!

Harry sighed, wondering just what he'd inadvertently gotten himself into after not even a full day in hell.

There was another knock, followed by Charlie's voice from the other side.

“Hey, um… Harry, good morning! Are you awake? Just, thought we could get a jump start on finding Tom Riddle! I'm really sorry if I woke you up!”

Harry snapped his fingers and the heart and bloodstains disappeared from the bed. With another snap, he was clad in some very comfortable silk boxers.

Intuitive magic felt amazing. He could see how Voldemort became a megalomaniacal maniac, anyone would think themselves a god with that level of power.

“I'l be right there!” Harry called out as he walked over to the door.

He pulled it open, and Charlie was there with her eager smile, hands behind her back as she was fully dressed in her trademark tuxedo.

Her eyes widened when she saw him, and Harry realized that he'd just conjured up some boxers and nothing else for himself.

Charlie's eyes trailed downward and Harry did the same, since he had yet to get a good look at himself without clothing.

He was diced to the gills. He had six pack abs, an insanely sharp adonis belt and solid pecs. His arms were well defined and his legs, while not overly bulky, also looked as if he was a professional footballer.

Even at the peak of his Quidditch playing days, Harry had never once looked this good.

It was also very apparent that with his new dimensions, he was sporting a very prominent dickprint through his boxers.

He looked back up to see Charlie was now smiling a lot more nervously as she twirled a strand of hair on her index finger.

“I’m sorry, s-should I give you more time to get dressed? I just really wanted to get a move on, but if you need some time to drain tha- I mean, get ready t-then…”

“Its alright, Charlie. I'll take a quick shower and be down there in like five minutes.”

“G-Great! Well I'll be waiting right downstairs!”

She spun around and immediately left, refusing to make eye contact and leaving a highly embarrassed Harry behind.

Harry sighed as he closed the door and decided it would be best to just pretend as if this incident hadn't happened.

He took a very quick shower before conjuring up something comfortable for himself, though it seemed that hell's aesthetic was beginning to influence him already, since he chose to put on a black leather jacket with cut-off sleeves.

He would have felt lile the biggest doofus in the universe trying to dress so ‘cool’ back on earth. But when in hell…

When he made his way downstairs he saw Charlie and Vaggie waiting for him. Husk was looking bored behind his bar, and there was a snake-person talking animatedly to Angel Dust.

“Yesss but, perhapsss if you put in a good word-”

“Why would I put in a good word for you, snake-boy?” Angel Dust's tone was uncaring. “Besides, I don't think you're her type.”

“Oh just do the man a favor already.” Husk grumbled, “Hell knows we could use any kind of happiness around here.”

“Aren't you angry that he shed all over your bar?”

“What? That's preposterousss!”

“I was, until I found out it was someone else that picked them up from the trash and brought them here.”

Harry tuned them out, and he was also glad that neither Alastor or Niffty seemed to be around at this time. He wanted to avoid Alastor gaining an interest in him if he could, though that ship had already sailed with Niffty.

He walked up to Charlie and Vaggie, the latter of whom had her arms crossed and did not seem to have warmed up to him one bit.

“Hey, I'm ready.” He called out.

The two broke off their conversation, and once more Harry noticed Charlie's appreciative look while Vaggie's frown deepened.

“You're a bit too skinny to be a bouncer at a biker bar.” Vaggie commented.

Harry laughed nervously. Perhaps he'd gone a bit too overboard with the cool factor?

“He looks like sex on a stick!” Angel Dust yelled from the other side of the room. “If you need to make some money, newbie, hit me up. I can help you meet the right people. Just… I'd suggest you start stretching it out now.”

Harry almost gagged at the thought, and while he offered up his most polite smile, he was definitely not taking him up on that offer any time soon.

“You look good.” Charlie said in a strained voice. “Come on, let's go find Tom!”

…

Their little adventure also doubled as a tour of hell for Harry, as he got more accustomed to the different sights and sounds.

Hell really was just a seedy, dirty cesspit, full of strip clubs, rampant gambling, open air prostitution markets and everything in between. There were also children in hell, and that was very confusing, because they didn't seem to be the souls of children that had died, they seemed to be the children of the denizens of hell themselves.

Which meant that someone could give birth to a brand new soul in hell, a soul that despite having committed no sins, was still condemned to hell. Or perhaps, those ‘babies’ were just the reborn souls of sinners who did not remember their previous lives?

It was all so confusing, and Harry doubted he'd find any answer soon.

They passed through the different territories of all the lords of hell, and in each one Harry found something interesting.

Despite all of the pain and misery present, Harry couldn't help but feel that hell wasn't so bad. It was actually quite fun.

After a lifetime spent as straight laced, decorated auror and war hero Harry Potter, it was quite freeing to just be someone else. He might still have his old name and memories, but no one here knew him, no one had an opinion on him, he could be whoever he wanted. He could start over.

“Hmmm, let's try here!”

It felt to Harry as if Charlie had picked this seedy pub at random, but it wasn't like he had anywhere else to be, and so far, hanging out with the girls had been fun.

He found that he really liked Charlie. Her upbeat personality was very endearing, and it helped that she was the cutest thing Harry had ever laid eyes on.

Vaggie did not like him one bit, but it was only so long the girl could glare and pout as the day progressed, and she had at least settled enough to tolerate Harry's presence. She was reserved by nature, and she mostly melded into the background as Harry and Charlie spoke.

The pub they were currently checking out was called Freezes Over, though half the letters on its bright neon sign were flickering in and out of existence, with the Z hanging onto the facade by a thread, teetering over the edge and threatening to maim any hellion that was unlucky enough to stand under it.

They walked in, and the place looked just like any rowdy biker bar from the living world. Harry remembered visiting a magical one on his first ever trip to the States. It had been run by a goblin motorcycle gang. This one was pretty full. There were pool tables at the back and several unsavory looking characters populating the bar.

It definitely didn't look safe.

Harry held back the urge from grabbing Charlie's hand and pulling her behind him. Vaggie seemed to have had the same thought, though she actually did attempt to hide Charlie, though Charlie immediately stepped out from behind her.

“Come on, guys, don't be so tense. I'm sure the people here are nice enough.”

Harry and Vaggie shared doubtful looks, though Vaggie glared at him once she realized what she'd been doing.

“Hey there, toots.” A tall, red-skinned demon walked up to them with a smirk on his face, his eyes locked on Charlie.

“Oh, hi!” Charlie waved at him with a kind smile, completely oblivious to the way both her companions had coiled up defensively around her.

The demon eyed her up and down before looking back at her. Harry prepared for the worst, ready to hurt this guy badly if he said something inappropriate.

“Me and the guys were just talking.” He nodded towards where a group of demons were huddled over a pool table. “And we just wanted to say… I absolutely love your tuxedo! It looks very well tailored, and now from up close, I can tell the stitching is exquisitely made!”

Harry was thrown for a loop as the demon's entire demeanor changed. Charli clasped her hands together. “Oh, thank you so much! Its really nice to receive compliments like that!”

The demon nodded before looking at Harry and Vaggie. “No shade, but your friends could use some of your fashion sense.”

“Hey!” Both Harry and Vaggie shouted back.

The demon held his hand up. “Sorry, dearies, don't shoot the messenger.”

And with that, he slinked back off to the pool table, and Harry found himself a bit more irritated than he had expected.

He'd felt he looked like a cool biker.

“I think the two of you look great.” Charlie said. “Everyone has different tastes. Now, lets go sit at the bar and talk to some more people!”

As they made their way over to the bar, Harry bumped shoulders with someone. The half-formed apology already on his lips died on the vine as he eyed the person he'd bumped into.

It had been a century since he'd seen him in the flesh, but there was no way Harry would ever be able to forget that him. Right there, in all his chalky skinned, bald and noseless glory, was Lord Voldemort.

It was a miracle that all Harry did was jump back and square up in preparation for a fight instead of immediately trying to obliterate his lifelong enemy. In truth, the only reason he hadn't was because Voldemort's attire gave him pause.

Instead of his usual robe, the Dark Lord was wearing a band shirt, cargo shorts and sandals. It was such a jarring image that it short circuited Harry's aggression.

“Voldemort!”

Voldemort was looking back at him with a hint of confusion in his crimson eyes. Next to him was a wolf-demon, who put his arm around the Dark Lord's shoulders. “You know our boy Voldie here?”

Recognition seemed to spark in Voldemort's face as he connected the green eyes with the British accent and the overwhelming amount of hatred this person seemed to have for him.

“Potter?”

“Oh my god, you must be Tom Riddle!” Charlie squealed with excitement.

The wolf demon snorted. “Tom Riddle? That's your government name, Voldie?”

Voldemort glared at Charlie. “I have not gone by that name since I was a young child.”

“I am so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to deadname you.”

”So you’re the guy we’ve been looking for.” Vaggie said as she sized Voldemort up.

“You’ve been looking for me?” Voldemort pointed at himself. “Actually, what exactly is going on, Potter? How did you end up down here? You were such a do-gooder, did your fame finally go to your head? Start a prostitution ring?”

“I ended up down here because of you, Voldemort. Your sins got mixed in with mine because of the Horcrux!”

Voldemort’s crimson eyes lit up as he doubled over in laughter. But this wasn’t the cruel, high laugh of the deranged maniac he remembered. No, this laugh was almost well natured.

“I'm sorry, Potter, it's just a very humorous situation.”

“Well, as humorous as it is, it highlights the huge injustices inherent in our current system. As the Princess of Hell, it is my duty to try and make sure my people get a fair shake.”

“Wait, you're Lucifer's kid?” Voldemort's wolf partner stiffened.

“She is.” Vaggie said as she inched closer to Charlie.

Harry was staring at Voldemort now with narrowed eyes. This man was completely different from the psycho he remembered. “What happened to you?”

Voldemort scoffed. “What happened to me, Potter? I was reunited with my soul, first off. It turns out, splitting your soul into eight parts does not work well for one's sanity.”

“I've seen memories of you as a child, you've always been a psychopath.”

“Things are different when you no longer wield power. Sure, at first, I tried desperately to regain my strength, to build my power back up here in Hell. But, it quickly became clear there would be no way for me to regain my magic. I raged against that truth for a while, but I've been here-” Voldemort counted off on his fingers, “Over a hundred and twenty years, Potter. There's only so long you can sulk about your previous life.”

“So what, you're just… a regular guy now?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Old Voldie here is the best damn pool shark hell has ever seen.” The wolf held up a fat stack of cash as Harry noticed that Voldemort was in fact holding a pool cue in his hand.

“What the fuck?”

“That's wonderful!” Charlie said happily, “Well, sorry for interrupting your day, but we were just wondering if you could help us clear things up for Harry here?”

Voldemort shrugged. “Sure, I will, under one condition.”

“And what would that be?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“A simple game of pool, Potter.”

…

It had been an absolute slaughter.

Voldemort had let Harry break. Harry had managed to pot the two and then the five before missing the six.

Then Voldemort took over with his custom made bone white cue stick, an arrogant swagger about him as he proceeded to systematically dismantle Harry. Harry never got to play again as Voldemort hit trick shots, behind the back shots and the like as he gloated the entire way through.

“Harry Potter, the Man-Who-Won, come to lose.” Voldemort smirked up at him before lazily potting the eight ball in the corner pocket.

Game. Set. Match.

“I told you he was good.” Marcus, the wolf, said smugly with his arms crossed.

“Wow, he really is.” Charlie commented.

Harry sighed as Voldemort laughed, that maniacal tone returning to his voice. It seemed that for the former Dark Lord, this was a spot of revenge against the boy who had vanquished him.

Harry just hoped he'd gotten it out of his system. “Will you help us now?”

Voldemort shrugged. “Sure, why not, my afternoon's open. What exactly are we to do?”

“Now, we set up a meeting with heaven!” Charlie said.

“Those haven't exactly gone too well.” Vaggie said cautiously.

“Oh, Vaggie, don't worry. With a case like this, they'll have to see reason!”

…

“Wait, you actually thought I was fucking serious?”

Harry, Vaggie, Charlie and Voldemort sat back as Adam and Lute fell over their chairs, laughing their asses off from the other end of the conference table.

Charlie's smile became strained, “Well, I mean, you did tell him-”

“Listen, sugartits, whatever I did or didn't tell this loser doesn't matter. He went to Hell, we're not letting him come up to Heaven!”

“Especially not looking like such a fucking freakshow.” Lute commented as her eyes raked over Harry's form. Harry glared at the angel and she gave him the one finger salute.

Her horned mask was at her side, and Harry had to grudgingly admit that she was rather attractive, in a bitchy way.

“What a pathetic excuse for a villain you are. When I was alive, I struck absolute dread in the hearts of those who faced me.”

“No one fucking asked, snakeface.” Lute hissed.

“Well, this has been a whole lot of fun, but I'm bored, so get the fuck out of my conference room.”

Harry was prepared this time when a portal opened up behind the four of them. A maelstrom kicked up as they were hoovered up by the portal, and the last thing Harry saw was Adam And Lute bent over the floor, laughing their asses off as they were all dragged down to hell.