The Monster Mash

The great and powerful Lord Voldemort examined the summoning circle before him. It stretched to the edges of the ruined castle floor. He had spent the last three hours carefully drawing the lines with chalk made from the bones of his fathers' family. The magic powering the circle was tied to him, only he would be able to break it. Drawing the circle was a task he did not trust any of his followers with.

Potter had escaped, again. His pride was to blame for that. He should have just killed the boy once he had a functional body. The old Voldemort would have lashed out at his followers. He would have blamed them, punished them, or worse. Now, he could see that rash behavior was one of the reasons he had failed.

Years as a specter jumping from host to host had been a lesson in humility. He had allowed himself to believe a half-heard prophecy and thus attached himself to it. Now was the time to plan. The Ministry could no longer deny his return. The battle with Dumbledore had been witnessed by that moron Fudge.

As much as he enjoyed using the Pureblood fanatics, they had repeatedly shown their various shortcomings. Harnessing their prejudices, family magic and hatred had them begging to follow him. However, it was those same qualities that led to many failures. They underestimated muggle born and half-bloods to an insulting degree.

Voldemort found that the Ministry provided just as many opportunities. The laws against non-humans and so-called dark creatures practically offered them up to him with a ribbon. This time, he would use more than just the few giants and werewolves that decided to follow him. Unfortunately, in its fear induced zeal, the Ministry had either exterminated the creatures to extinction, or forced the more intelligent kinds into hiding.

This led Voldemort to a specific, ancient sort of magic. Summoning creatures from another world. Finding a suitable target was simple. Creating a stable connection to this other world that he could control required massive amounts of skill and power. It had taken considerable research to track down documentation of ley lines. Even more to find a suitable nexus that he could control.

With the circle drawn all he needed to do was feed it some magic. He would summon an archfiend to bind it to his will. The powerful creature would protect the circle to keep it active. Once summoned, only Voldemort would be able to dismiss the beast. Archfiends were powerful and cunning. While they would serve if they were forced, it was never a good idea to relax around them. They would constantly fight against the control. Once dismissed, they would tirelessly work to get their revenge.

A deal, a sort of contract, was the better approach. Voldemort had one in mind already. The archfiend would keep the connection open for creatures of myth and legend to return to the world under his control. In return, the archfiend would be free to feed on the souls of those who were killed by the summoned. This not only would appease the creature, but the deal would keep it loyal.

Voldemort fed his magic into the circle. He let it pool until the chalk ignited. The power surged, illuminating the castle ruins, turning the area into a beacon in the night.

He watched as an archfiend appeared, hunched over in the center of the circle. It stood, raising to its full height, and stretching its wings wide. The archfiend stood at least thirteen feet tall. It had a set of long horns the swept back along its head, curving upward once clear of its skull. Its skin was the color of old quartz with rich blue speckles. Most striking though, were its eyes. It had two sets, one almost human aside from the shifting color, and a smaller set just a bit higher. The fiend paused as the circle halted his movement.

It took in the area around it before its eyes stopped on Voldemort. With a dismissive snort, it turned its attention to the circle that held it. Voldemort bristles at the treatment. He drew his wand, pointing at the circle, and fed more magic into the chalk. A command to face him rushed along the pattern.

The archfiend turned to look at him. Its eyes narrowed. He was not worried; the circle was complete and sealed. It was bound to this place until he dismissed it.

"I am Lord Voldemort." He yelled at the creature. "It is my will that has summoned you here. It is my will that will dismiss you. Look upon me as an equal and I will provide you with a mutually beneficial agreement."

The archfiend cocked its head to the side. One moment it stood towering over him, the next it was a man in a white muggle-style suit. Only the swirling starfield that were its eyes were the sign it wasn't human.

"Lord Voldemort." The archfiend spoke in a voice that rumbled louder than thunder. "Quite."

Voldemort forced his anger down.

The archfiend strolled around the edge of the circle. Voldemort had expected the creature to test the boundaries. Anything breaking the circle would allow it to enter the world.

"What is this agreement?" The archfiend asked not bothering to stop its inspection.

"Open a pathway to this world for the creatures long thought lost to return under my control." Voldemort schooled his voice. "Guard this circle to continue the connection. The souls of those who perish at the hands of your summons are yours."

"You want to use me to unleash monsters on this world to kill your enemies?" The archfiend asked.

"If you want to put it in banal terms, yes." Voldemort narrowed his eyes.

The archfiend strolled over to come to a stop directly in front of him. Voldemort waited. As much as it irked him, he knew this creature was more powerful. The archfiend would surrender a portion of its power in the agreement, making them equals. Nothing short of a demi-god would be able to stand against Voldemort once the deal was sealed.

"You don't know." The archfiend smiled; its mouth stretched too wide.

"Enlighten me." Voldemort had to force the rage from his voice.

The archfiend stepped over the chalk line. When its foot touched the soft ground beyond the circle it left a clawed footprint that was much too large.

Voldemort was not a stranger to fear. It was what had driven him to study at Hogwarts. Fear was what had pushed him to find immortality. He knew this. Fear was not weakness; it was a useful tool just like sleep or hunger.

This moment though, was the first time in his life that Voldemort had ever experience true terror. The archfiend came to a stop well within arm's reach.

"How?" Voldemort choked out.

"How can a circle be sealed when the one powering it is split into pieces?" The archfiend chuckled. A long, clawed finger tapped Voldemort on the forehead. "Boop."

Voldemort shivered. In his place stood an empty shell of transparent snakeskin. A soft breeze toppled it. The shedding shattered and spread across the ground. The archfiend looked up, staring at a shade that had observed the entire interaction. A stream of images flashed in the archfiends' eyes. Monsters from myths and legends stepped through the veil separating the worlds.

Magic itself shivered.

"Hello, Harry." The archfiend's eyes flashed as it spoke to the shade.

~§~§~

Harry launched to his feet. The thin blanket wrapped around his feet, sending him toppling to the floor. He kicked it away desperately, hearing the thin fabric rip as he struggled.

Once free he scrambled to his feet. He needed to warn Sirius, he needed to warn his friends, he needed to tell Dumbledore.

"Quit that racket boy!" Vernon yelled from down the hall.

Harry ignored the man. He hurried to the second-hand desk. It had parchment, quills, and ink. Vernon didn't think they were important enough to take away. Harry scribbled down a letter to Sirius. He rolled it up and turned to hand it to Hedwig. His hand froze, still holding the letter.

Sirius was dead.

It was his fault. Sirius had died protecting him. Dumbledore did carry a share of the fault as well. His secrets and plans had kept important information that would have changed things.

Harry crumpled the letter. With the reality of the situation settling in, he had the brain power to think things through. What he had experienced was a realistic dream. It didn't feel like the times before when he connected to Voldemort. Still. It had felt so real. Was that kind of ritual even possible? If the was real, then Voldemort had just unleashed a horde of monsters on the world.

But that didn't make sense. Harry knew about magical creatures. Well, some of them. He had seen trolls, a giant three-headed dog, multiple dragons, and even a sphinx. He spoke with goblins almost every year. Hagrid was half-giant. Most would consider all of them monsters.

Werewolves were technically monsters, but most of them were normal people that had contracted a disease. He wasn't sure if vampires were actually real.

Voldemort had done the ritual to not only summon the 'monsters' but to control them as well.

The more he thought about it the more it felt like an actual dream. Harry picked up his blanket. It was now ripped half-way down the middle. He folded it up and slid it inside his pillowcase for some more padding. Nightmares not involving Sirius dying on repeat were a nice change. Maybe next time he'd be naked in school. He'd heard that was a common one.

Harry rested back on the pillow and closed his eyes. Sleep came quick for once.

~§~§~

The fiend was waiting for him right where it had been when the last dream ended. Harry was sort of floating nearby as a formless observer. The fiend had returned to its human shape and was currently staring down at the pile of debris that had been Voldemort.

"Bone chalk and skin flakes." The fiend sighed. "These are the sort of things I have to put up with."

Its starfield eyes shifted to face Harry. One of its manicured hands snapped out in a blur, capturing Harry in a vicelike grip. He was trapped, even without a body.

"Interesting connection you two share." The fiend pulled Harry closer. It sniffed. "Soul magic. Poorly done at that."

It let Harry go. The fiend moved back to the summoning circle. It shot a too-wide smile at Harry.

"The funny thing is." The fiend continued. "I would have accepted the deal. He simply couldn't cover the cost. Let's see if I can make it worth my time."

The fiend took a handful of Dark Lord Debris before tossing in across the circle. It was not nearly enough to cover entire area, but it did. The stone floor inside the circle dissolved into a pool of still water.

Harry watched in fascinated horror as a large, clawed hand shot out.

"Nuh-uh-ah." The fiend stepped over to block the view. "No spoilers."

"My lord?" A familiar grating called from somewhere Harry couldn't see. "My lord, do you require one of us?"

Harry knew that voice. Wormtail. The traitor.

"Wormtail?" The fiend chuckled. "Oh, you don't like him. Don't worry, he won't be alive for much longer."

Harry could feel himself starting to fade. Consciousness was pressing in on his dream.

"Before I forget." The fiend said. "Call me Archie."

The terrified screams of Peter Pettigrew sounded like they were coming from a long way off. Harry wanted to stay asleep a little longer, just to hear the bastard suffer.