Oneshot Series

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters portrayed within these stories, all these characters belong to their respective creators.


This is a Harry Potter/DC crossover, where basically Harry gets chosen by one of the lantern corps. I did make sure to choose one that you don't see much of.


Lord Voldemort chuckled in amusement as he watched the black-haired teen that lay at his feet, twitching in pain.

Victory was his, Harry Potter was defeated.

"Give up Potter, you've lost." he hissed silkily, eyes sweeping around the great hall of Hogwarts. He was pleased to see that his Death Eaters had rounded up the rest of the students and the Order of the Phoenix, even the mighty Albus Dumbledore was held prisoner.

Excellent, they could all watch as their hero perished.

"Any last words Potter?" he asked, sneering at the pathetic form of the 'chosen one'.

The boy pulled himself up onto all fours, his hands gripped in anger and pain.

"Come now Potter, you must have 'something' to say, some final words for your adoring public." Voldemort mocked with amusement.

He could hear the boy whispering to himself...ah perhaps Potter had screamed himself raw, multiple Crutiatus curses could do that to a person.

"Come now Potter speak up, let us all hear your final words." Voldemort chuckled. "Here let me assist you, Lord Voldemort knows how to be merciful."

His Death Eaters laughed in amusement as Voldemort cast a Sonorous charm on the defeated boy-who-lived but quickly descended into silence as they all awaited the 'chosen ones' final words.


Harry grimaced as another bout of pain coursed through his body, he had suffered so much pain at the end of Voldemort's wand.

-We can end the pain.-

This was all that thrice-damned Malfoy's fault.

After nearly a year of hard work, the little worm had somehow repaired a vanishing cupboard on the seventh floor, allowing Voldemort and his Death Eaters access to the school. They had all been caught unawares, even the few Order members acting as added security, and now the Death Eaters had won; all because of Malfoy.

-We can give you vengeance.-

He could hear Voldemort gloating, mocking him, just a few feet away.

It filled him with such anger and hate, he wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk of that hateful, snake-like face.

-Give in to your anger!-

Curse Malfoy.

Curse Voldemort.

-Give in to your hate!-

"Any last words Potter?" Voldemort asked mockingly.

His anger spiked and he manged to focus past the pain and pick himself up.

-Speak the words! Call on us!-

And what the hell with was the voices? He had heard the voices whispering to him the last few days, sometimes quietly, sometimes loudly but always when he was angry.

"The words? What words?" Harry whispered, his first acknowledgement of the voices since they began.

Hey, if he was going to die anyways what was the worst that could happen?

-The words! Speak the Oath!-

"Come now Potter, you must have 'something' to say, some final words for your adoring public." the mocking tone of Voldemort cut through his daze.

"The Oath? What Oath?" he was so confused.

As soon as the words left him, information flooded his mind.

He knew what to do.

-Speak the Oath! Join us!-

"Come now Potter speak up, let us all hear your final words." Voldemort chuckled. "Here let me assist you, Lord Voldemort knows how to be merciful."

Anger and Rage flooded through his body and Harry growled as the words came to him, filling his mind to the brim and spilling out his mouth.


"With Blood and Rage of Crimson Red."

Voldemort rose a single brow at the strange words from the boy-who-lived, what could that possibly mean? The side of the light shuddered at the dark words from their hero but Voldemort leaned forward with interest, what was the boy up to?

He noticed a red glow from the boys hand, coming from a ring he was sure wasn't there moments ago. Where had the ring come from? He would have noticed it easily if it had been there before, the blood-red ring stood out against the pale skin of the younger boy.

"Ripped From a Corpse so Freshly Dead."

It was almost like he was trying a chant or some sort of ritual but Potter didn't know Dark magic, and Potter most definitely did not know of any rituals that he himself had never heard of.

The glow around the boys hand intensified and began to spread, it was time to end this, time to kill Harry Potter. No matter how interested he was in this 'chant', there was no way he was letting the boy finish, who knows what could happen.

"Pellecorde."

The blood-red -almost the same color as the glow around the boys arm- curse struck the boy-who-lived solidly, causing his chest to explode and his heart to go flying across the room.

The heart-expelling curse, quite the way to go.

However even that couldn't stop the boys chant, and above the gasps from his allies Potter's voice boomed with power.

"Together with our Hellish Hate."

Rage seemed to saturate Potter's voice and Voldemort could only stand shocked as the boy glared, his eye shinning with impossible amounts of hatred and anger.

"Why wont you die!" the Dark Lord roared as he prepared another curse.

"We'll Burn You All, That is Your Fate!"

The last word was screamed with such rage and intensity that it caused the Dark Lord to take a step back.

There was a flash of crimson light, bright enough to illuminate the entire castle, then silence.