That Awkward Moment When The Killing Curse Fails

Summary: Post-Deathly Hallows, Final Battle! What happens to Voldemort in the afterlife?

A/N: Oh, the plot bunnies! Don't you love them? This just popped in my head so here goes! Man, three stories in one day. I am on a roll!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

"Oh…" Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Voldemort, moaned while clutching his head in pain. "What happened? Where am I? Where's Potter!"

He turned, determined to find Potter and kill him once and for all, but was shocked by the sight he saw instead. There standing before him was a mob of people, all holding a small object. A certain group each held a quill, another held a muggle device he was sure was called a hammer, and the third held another muggle device called scissors. Were he normal, he might have been afraid of them, but he was bloody Voldemort. Why would he be scared of an angry mob? He laughed his cold, high pitched laugh that drew shivers up spines at them.

His audience, however, didn't seem to be effected. He growled deep in his throat, and advanced onto them. Not scared? He thought. You will be soon enough. The group, though, did not back down, much to Voldemort's anger. They just stood strong, a perfectly formed group, standing up to him defiantly.

"How dare you defy me! I am Lord Voldemort! I will make you pay for this, silly humans!" He shouted, but much to his dismay, the group didn't back down. Voldemort growled once more and reached for his wand. He pointed it at a random person in the group, knowing that if one was killed, the others would get terrified and bow down to him. They always did.

"Avada Kedavra!" He shouted, and a green jet of light burst from his wand. Oh, how he loved the sight of that. It brought him joy like none other. That is, if he even felt joy.

The spell hit the man directly in the chest, but much to Voldemort's surprise, he didn't die. The man just raised an eyebrow and gave his attacker a curious look. "Ow?" He asked, not knowing how he was expected to react. "Well. This is awkward."

Voldemort, for his part, was confused. This man looked nothing like Harry Potter. And Harry Potter is the only person to ever have survived the killing curse. Voldemort turned his wand on someone else, a woman this time, and yelled again, "Avada Kedavra!"

The woman reacted just as the man did. "Was that supposed to hurt?" she asked. Voldemort didn't dignify that with a response. He turned his wand on another victim and spoke the incantation once more. Again, it had no effect.

What the hell is going on here? Why won't they die!

As if he heard the unspoken question, another man stepped out of the crowd. He looked familiar but Voldemort couldn't quite put his finger on it. "You have no power here, Tom Riddle"—Voldemort snarled at the audacity of this guy, but the man was unaffected—"We, already having been victims from your Killing Curse, are no longer affected by it. You cannot harm us. However, we can harm you." The man smirked and gestured to the scissors, quills, and hammers each person held. "Welcome to hell, Riddle."

Voldemort barely had time to process that three objects were torture items made for especially him before the vicious crowd attacked.

It was then he realized he was in for eternal torment for the rest of his undead life.