Scattered Hope

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

This is just a oneshot from the random plotbunny I received when I was supposed to be doing schoolwork. Constructive criticism is welcome, as are reviews and such. I've never seen this done before, but if it has been, I didn't mean to steal.

Possible trigger?: Violent scene

"Praemium" is Latin for "explode"

Scattered Hope

1981

The Dark Lord towered menacingly over the crowd from his place on the grand stage.
His sharp smile struck terror into the diplomats and sniveling pompous snobs loitering amongst the ballroom floor.
"Savior? No, he was never a savior. He survived for my own amusement, and did you ever follow the script perfectly. So predictable." said Voldemort scathingly. "Do you now realize how desperate you truly are? You were told that I, who have crippled everything this nation has thrown in its defense, was bested by an infant, and took it at face value!" he continued gleefully, smirking at the horrified looks from the crowd.

Lord Voldemort had laughed for days at the celebrations of his "death". He let them celebrate for a month; let them impregnate their women in victory. And when a ball was held to raise funds for the Potter's monument, He and his Death Eaters crashed the party.

After giving them a hostess gift of Harry Potter's mangled corpse, Voldemort started on his takeover speech.

Voldemort levitated the child's cadaver above the crowd. "Here is your hope, your saving grace, your peacekeeper," he taunted, lipless mouth curling into a smirk at the slowly-dawning comprehension on their faces. "Your precious defender, attending a party in his honor, how touching. You lot seem to need all of the help you can get, and there is plenty of Mr. Potter to go around..." here Voldemort paused, waiting for comprehension to flicker across the faces of the many Aurors held at wandpoint.

Scrimgeour's eyes widened, and he let out a horrified gasp. Voldemort shot him a malicious grin.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort paused, and twirled Potter's body from it's place above the crowd for emphasis. "with us in flesh and blood,... Is dead!" There were a few scattered sobs from the women.

"Praemium!" snarled Voldemort.

Potter was splattered everywhere. Over the gowns and dress robes, over the walls and floor, chunks landing in the punchbowl. Screams of terror, horror, and revulsion were heard from every corner of the room. Those who weren't passed out already were quickly stunned.

"Let them awaken in Azkaban." he ordered coldly.

Lord Voldemort, newly crowned leader of Wizarding Britain, threw his head back... and he laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

The End

Ciao, -TotallyNotASerialKiller