The idea of Voldemort getting talked down to by a Fangire has been bouncing around my head for a while, but I finally sat down and started writing this yesterday.

For those unfamiliar with either fandom:

'Harry Potter' is about a young British wizard and a secret society of wizards hidden from the 'Muggles', or non-magic people. There is a group of Dark witches and wizards called the Death Eaters, led by the Dark sorcerer Voldemort. They hate Muggles and Muggle-born witches and wizards and want them either enslaved or dead. Voldemort is aiming to become immortal, and has performed Black Magic that splits his soul into pieces in order to prolong his life. As long as one fragment exists, he's still something resembling alive.

The antagonists of 'Kamen Rider Kiva' are a race of vampiric demons called Fangires who feed on the life force of humans. We see two different Kings of the Fangires throughout the series: one in the flashbacks set in 1986, and his son Taiga, who is ruling by 2008.

I have moved the Harry Potter timeline up 10 years, so this is set during the seventh and final book of the series, and around the start of Kiva (Taiga doesn't show up until about halfway through the series, anyway). This is NOT part of my Kiva fanfic series 'Knightverse'.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Kamen Rider Kiva or Harry Potter, or any of their characters. They belong to Toei and JK Rowling, respectively.


Saturday, February 9th, 2008

A hush fell over the chamber as the young Asian man in his early twenties appeared. Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters were all focused on him, clad in Muggle clothes yet walking confidently – knowingly – into a space full of Muggle-killers with his head held high. Voldemort glared at the stranger, who stopped directly in front of his throne.

"Lucius, who is this… boy that you've allowed into my presence?" Voldemort asked the Death Eater at whose Manor they were holding court.

Lucius ducked his head. "M-My Lord, this young man is the representative of the Fangires, responding to your summons."

"The Fangires?" Voldemort had sent out a summons to gather as many Dark Creatures that he thought might be amenable to joining his cause, but hadn't believed that the Fangires would respond. They disdained all humans, even the naturally superior wizards, and sending a summons to them hadn't been done with high expectations. "So you have agreed to join me?"

The young man looked Voldemort in the eye – a privilege that even the Inner Circle was rarely afforded. "Perhaps. I've come to see whether you're worth the trouble."

Many Death Eaters gasped, others snarled at his arrogance. Lord Voldemort himself glared at the boy disdainfully. "You presume to look down on us? We command vast amounts of Dark Magic, and we will rule over the Muggles in due time. Your King would do well to earn our favour."

"Would I?" the young man asked calmly, slipping the black leather glove off his left hand and displaying the Mark on it. Some of the Death Eaters, those who knew what the red rose and black King chess piece meant, shrank back. They'd thought they were dealing with a mere emissary, but no, this was the King of the Fangires, himself. "What are you offering my people?"

Voldemort now had a contemplative look in his eyes. "We can offer you an unlimited source of food. Once we have subjugated the Muggles, you and your kind would no longer need to hide who you are, and would be welcome to feed on as many of them as you please."

The King seemed to be considering this, but he wasn't yet convinced. "But what makes you think you have the power to carry this through? Even if you had all the Fangires in the world on your side, the world has over seven billion people, and that's mostly non-magicals, since most of your little faction of wand-wavers wouldn't be counted in those census numbers. If these are all the people you have at your disposal, I wouldn't count on your success. Even if you had ten times this number, it's not enough to take on the entire world. We Fangires will not throw ourselves behind a plan that we don't think will work. If you fail, we will not fall with you."

This speech had a few wands pointed at him and more than a few furious glares. How dare this creature look down on them?!

Malfoy in particular voiced his displeasure. "Our forces are growing daily. Once we take Britain, we will spread our recruitment to the mainland of Europe, and continue to do so as our territory grows."

The King tipped his head in acknowledgement. "Fair enough, but that still isn't enough to convince me to sign on." He turned back to face Voldemort. "What happens after you've hypothetically conquered all the Muggles in the world, and when you eventually die, be it at the hands of some dissident or by natural causes? You wizards live longer than normal humans, but you aren't immortal. How do I know that your eventual successor won't screw us over, assuming that you don't do so first?"

This creature was infuriating the Death Eaters more and more by the second, and trying Lord Voldemort's patience. "It will not happen as you've described," he said smoothly, "For I have gone further than any wizard has gone on the path to immortality. My reign will last forever."

Then the demon King had the audacity to laugh. To laugh derisively in the face of the Dark Lord!

"Immortality!" he crowed, "If there's any species that could come close to achieving it, humans are practically at the bottom of the list, even those wielding magic. And even if humans were the next to learn the secrets of immortality, you certainly would not be the one to do it. Not with the mutilation you've inflicted upon your own soul."

The atmosphere changed abruptly. Some of the Death Eaters were livid at his disrespect towards their leader. Others were confused about his last comment. The ones with the most knowledge of the Blackest of the Black Arts were able to connect the dots and figure out what he was accusing the Dark Lord of having done.

Voldemort himself looked at the creature with death in his eyes. How could he possibly have known?!

"I'm a Fangire, Riddle; I live off the Life Energy of humans, and I can sense the condition of your soul. You can't possibly gain immortality with less than one percent of your soul remaining in your body. Your chosen attempt at living forever may mean that you'll hang around longer on this plane, but it does nothing to keep your body from withering and dying. You're no immortal, not even close. You're a half-dead thing." He sniffed and began to walk away.

Enraged at his utter disrespect towards her Lord, Bellatrix hurled a wordless Dark curse at his back. To everyone's complete astonishment, the Fangire dodged without looking, flinging his left hand out as the signature markings of his station appeared on his face and his eyes glowed. Pitch-black clouds of mist formed on the floor all over the chamber, and black vipers emerged from their depths. They didn't attack the Death Eaters directly, but they hissed and snapped, ignoring the curses being shot at them.

"You think you wizards are so powerful," The King belittled them, "You know nothing about power. Especially not Black Magic practitioners such as yourselves. You think yourselves superior for perverting what is natural, running from death like cowards. The Fangire Race is the epitome of the Dark side of nature, and we won't involve ourselves in your petty squabbles. You're doomed to fail, one way or another. And we won't be affected in the slightest; we'll just watch and then move on with our lives."

And he turned and walked out the door, leaving the seething and (secretly) terrified Voldemort to wonder how he'd managed to piss off the ruler of an ancient demon race.


So yeah, this is just an idea I've been having for a while. I'll be taking a bit of a break from posting, aside from the 'Return to the Digital World', which I've already finished writing, until the school term ends in December.