Update November, 2018: Hello reader! I finished this story a few weeks ago, but wished to write a small introduction for anyone coming to this story now. Thank you for selecting this story; I hope you enjoy it. I also apologise for 16/17 year-old me who wrote the majority of this story. That person was a whiny little brat. Ignore the A/N's... they're ostentatiously long, and very, very boring.

The writing is pretty terrible... and I have also been accused of my Lucifer seeming too much like Lucifer's (FOX) Lucifer, and not the one from supernatural. Sorry, I guess. Still, I find this is a story worth reading if only for the character development. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it... even after that daunting introduction that I have given you...!

"…And it is written, that the first demon shall be the last seal," Ruby said, eyes sparkling with manic fanaticism as she stared into Sam's own panicked ones. Said Winchester's mouth floundered for a few moments, before he raised his hands to clutch his head in shock and sudden terror. "And you bust her open," Ruby continued, "Now guess who's coming for dinner."

Her voice was cocky, Sam suddenly noticed. But right now all of that didn't matter; what did matter however, was the streams of blood that had started connecting with each other, forming a slightly less than perfect circle. "Oh my God," Sam whispered in shock as his eyes widened and his mouth dried.

Ruby smirked nastily and she said nasally, "Guess again."

Sam's head jerked upwards when he heard banging and his gaze shot towards the double doors which were currently shuddering after every 'bang!'. Ruby ignored the sound, and rounded on Sam, "You don't even know-" but was interrupted by a figure launching itself through the double doors: Dean. He had come back.

"You're too late," Ruby said nastily, turning around to face Dean and exposing her back to Sam. Dean's determined expression didn't change and he marched to her; in his hand he held a dagger and Sam realised almost instantly what he had in mind. And hell, maybe an hour ago, he had been all for saving Ruby's life… but now, that bitch had betrayed him. She had betrayed everyone fighting against the apocalypse.

"I don't care," Dean snarled and almost simultaneously, both brothers made their move. With a roar, Sam grabbed hold of Ruby's shoulders while Dean swung his dagger into the demon's abdomen. Flickers of light originated from the place where Dean had struck her and they spread, killing her very effectively. Ruby's mouth popped open and Sam stared with disgust as those same flickers of light which were now reflected on Dean's face.

Dean twisted the dagger, snarling in anger as he did so, and in one swift movement pulled the dagger back, producing a loud crunching sound. Sam held her for a moment, staring at the vessel in his hands, momentarily shocked. He was launched into movement when he felt Dean's eyes on him and he released Ruby's vessel. The innocent woman fell to the floor unceremoniously, but Sam barely even looked at her.

His watery eyes had found Dean's and he suddenly felt like a little boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Only… this was a slight bit more serious than that. Sam then said the only thing that he could really say, those two damned words; "I'm sorry."

He was sorry for all of it, for his dad, for their fractured relationship, for Sam's vulnerability and his addiction to demon blood, for fighting with Dean, for trusting Ruby - a demon - so implicitly and above all, for starting the apocalypse. Dean's gaze flickered down to the floor for a moment, evidently he too could not find the right words.

But then, just out the corner of his eye, Sam saw the different streams of blood finally conjoin with each other. Very suddenly, right in the middle of the circle, a thick column of light appeared, blinding the brother's momentarily. Sam stared at the steadily growing column of light in shock. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Dean reaching out to grab his coat. Sam similarly grabbed his forearm.

"Sammy, let's go," Dean's voice was raw with emotion. Sam ignored him, "Dean," he murmured as he continued staring at the steadily growing light. He wanted to explain how very sorry he was, how Ruby had managed to convince him that she was legit, but instead, he only managed to say two words: "He's coming."

As the column started widening even more, Dean jerked his arm to the side to thrust him into motion. Exchanging a glance, the brothers rushed to the open doors but they were slammed shut just as they reached them. Sam collapsed against the doors, trying to bust them open, but this time they had been locked by pure grace or magic or whatever.

Suddenly, they couldn't see anymore. Even with his eyelids closed, Sam's vision was still just as bright as when his eyes were open. He felt the heat on his face and tried to shield it. He fell down to his knees and felt Dean do the same. And suddenly, dark spots started appearing in his vision and he knew if it got anymore intense - and it would - then he would fall into unconsciousness.

And then, all of a sudden it was all over.

Very slowly, oh so slowly, Sam lowered the arms he had curled around his face for protection and glanced at Dean who had similarly tried to protect himself. Dean looked unharmed, but his eyes too, showed bemusement. After he had confirmed that his brother was ok, Sam turned his gaze back to the column of light -

only there was no column of light. The blood was gone. Lilith was gone… even Ruby was gone!

"What the hell?" Dean murmured after a moment, voice cracking partly in shock, partly in confusion and horror. Sam slowly stood up but ignored the soot and dust covering most of his lower half. Right now that didn't matter. What mattered was what the hell had happened to Lucifer and what the hell was going on.

"Where - what… Lucifer?" Sam managed to mumble out as he took a hesitant step forwards. Dean grabbed the dagger he'd dropped and wiped it clean against his already coat.

"I don't know, man, I have no freakin' idea," Dean finally said, closing his eyes as he did so.

.

Harry was having a pretty crappy day, and that was an understatement.

Suddenly realising that you are the unintentional host for an evil Dark Lord's mutilated soul generally puts a damper on things. But, Harry mused as he looked down at the snitch in his hands, he supposed he'd known for quite a while that at the end of the day, he too, would have to die. For the greater good at least.

He had finally understood that his job was to walk calmly into Death's welcoming arms. Along the way, he was to dispose of Voldemort's remaining links to life, so that when he at last found himself across his path, and did not raise a wand to defend himself, the end would be clean and the job that ought to have been done in Godric's Hollow would be finished: neither would live, neither could survive.

He felt his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. How strange that in the dread of death, it pumped all the harder, valiantly keeping him alive. Slowly, very slowly, Harry took a step into the Forbidden forest. He was hidden underneath his clock of course, no one, even those actively searching for Death Eaters to capture would be able to find him.

He suddenly felt more alive and more aware of his own living body than ever before. Why had he never appreciated what a miracle he was, brain and never and pounding heart? It would all be gone… or at least, he would be gone from it. His breath came slow and deep and his mouth and throat were completely dry, but so were his eyes.

Was this what suicide victims felt like when they were about to commit suicide? For that was what he was doing. He was finally finishing a suicide mission that Dumbledore had set out for him. How elegant, how utterly beautifully elegant to give a task such as hunting down the horcruxes to a walking dead man. No more unnecessary victims, no abundance of dead bodies.

Harry took one glance back at the entrance to Hogwarts. People were moving around, trying to comfort each other, drinking, kneeling beside the dead, but he could not see any of the people he loved, no hint of Hermione, Ron, Ginny or any of the other Weasleys, no Luna. The people that he could see in the distance were little specks compared to everything else. Little ants. And they seemed so very far away right now.

He felt a sudden emptiness surround his heart and he noticed that a swarm of Dementors was gliding amongst the trees; he could feel their chill, and he was not sure he would be able to pass safely through it. He had no strength left for a Patronus. He could no longer control his own trembling. This was the end. The strategy of the winning team had been laid on the table, and their win was almost undeniable now. They were about to catch the snitch and they would win.

…The snitch. His nerveless fingers fumbled for a moment with the pouch at his neck and he pulled it out.

I open at the close.

And he realised it now, this was the Resurrection Stone. One of the Deathly Hallows. Breathing fast and hard now, Harry murmured the words that the snitch had been designed to open to: like a password. "I am about to die."

The snitch cracked open, and a black stone tumbled down onto his palm. Harry closed his eyes, and remembering the legend of the Deathly Hallows, he followed the instructions: he turned the stone over in his hands, three times.

The people that appeared around him were neither ghost nor truly flesh, he could see that. They weren't solid, like Tom Riddle's memory, but they weren't so translucent like the Hogwarts Ghosts. And curiously, the people that appeared weren't at all his parents, or his godfather, or Remus, but three others.

One was about Harry's height; his hair was golden and brushed back neatly, his nose was a slight bit crooked but his eyes twinkled with mischief. He was currently rubbing his palms together eagerly. Next to him stood a dark skinned man, he was dressed in a suit and had a stern, but serious look. The last person was a young man: he was think and a little frail looking, but his eyes conveyed power.

Instinctively, Harry realised that their names were Gabriel, Raphael and Michael, respectively.

"Hm… Curious - and who are you, oh Gandalf?" The shortest man - Gabriel - asked, eyes flickering down to the wand which Harry loosely held in his right hand.

"Uh, I'm Harry Potter - who the hell are you?" He managed to stutter out. Why was the stone showing him this? He didn't even know these people.

"How have you summoned the Archangels of the Lord?" Demanded the other young man - Michael. He spoke in a monotone, as though he wasn't sure how to use a human body. Harry's eyes widened.

"Archangels… Lord?" He repeated, before his hand slackened from shock and the stone tumbled to the ground. He didn't pick it up and slowly started backing away from it. He heard voices, and followed them, mind now fully concentrated on the task ahead of him. All thoughts of the stone now lay deep in the Forbidden Forest.

He followed the voices, and the scent of burning wood and finally he saw a clearing in the distance. As he neared the clearing, he started to make out more details: A fire burned in the middle of it, and its flickering light fell over a crowd of completely silent, watchful Death Eaters. Some of them were still masked and hooded, others, already known by the government, showed their faces.

Werewolves, giants and vampires all stood at the edge of said clearing, their watchful eyes scouring the woods, evidently in search for something… or someone. But Harry ignored all this. His gaze was focused upon Voldemort, who stood with his head bowed, and his white hands folded over the Elder Wand in front of him. He might have been praying, an angel of death, but when he looked up, his eyes were as red as a demons.

"No sign of him, my Lord," said Dolohov and Harry instantly knew that by him they meant Harry.

"I thought he would come," Voldemort said, gazing at the flames. "I expected him to come. It seems… I was… mistaken." He seemed to bite out the last few words and Harry realised he hated being wrong. Harry briefly considered turning around now, just to mess with the man… but no, he had to fulfil his destiny.

He took off the cloak and stepped into the clearing.

"You weren't."

The reaction the Death Eaters gave was similar to that the one fans gave when their team made a goal: there was always a momentary silence, and then the fans would erupt into cheers. Only here, the Death Eaters chose to jeer at him. Voldemort's gaze fixed itself upon Harry, before he suddenly seemed to notice that his minions had become unruly, and his gaze swept majestically over his troops. In less than a few seconds, all was silent again.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort said in his high, inhumane voice, "The Boy-Who-Lived."

The man raised his wand - the Elder Wand - and pointed it at Harry. This was it. This was the moment. A unified gasp seemed to go through the clearing as Voldemort's whispered spell shot at Harry. It all happened in slow motion. The bolt of green energy slowly crawled at Harry who barely paid it any attention. His eyes roamed the prisoners behind Voldemort and he was delighted to see that Hagrid hadn't been killed. Yet. Near him, sat bound Order of the Phoenix members who were all staring at Harry in shock.

And then the spell hit him.

.

For a moment, everyone held in their breath and as the spell hit, a collective gasp was heard. What disturbed Harry, was the fact that he had heard it.

He opened the eyes that he'd thought he'd closed and was faced with a shocking sight. He still stood in the same position, and on the other side of the field, Voldemort's wand was still raised, but his eyes had widened and his mouth had propped open in shock. Harry very suddenly realised that the spell had hit him, but that he wasn't dead.

Well shit.

Gazing down at his chest, (Harry very much hoped that he wouldn't see a second lighting bolt on there), Harry noticed that his clothes were unharmed, unsinged. Even if the spell hadn't harmed him, it would have still had an effect on his clothes, it would have at the very least, burned in the place the spell had stuck it.

Then there was a loud, loud gasp of relief which was followed by sobbing and when Harry's gaze moved to find the source of the sounds, he found Hagrid dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief. This sudden interruption served as a catalyst for the shocked stupor into which most of the Death Eaters had fallen. Also, Voldemort.

With a raged cry, said man jerked his wand again, and again, a bolt of green light struck Harry's chest. Only again, nothing happened.

And that was when Harry noticed it. A few tendrils of beautiful golden, white light surrounded his body. They enveloped him like a warm hug, protecting him. Harry felt his eyes heat up and he instinctively realised that they were glowing. And just as instinctively, Harry raised his right hand palm facing Voldemort, who for the first time in the entire time Harry had known him, looked scared.

And then, Harry commanded that golden, protective light to obey him, and kill Voldemort.

Seconds later, said Dark Lord lay on the forest floor, spread eagled, mouth wide open in a silent scream and two empty sockets staring into the British sky overhead.

Thank you very much for reading the prologue to my Harry is Lucifer story. I hope you enjoyed it! I might update this next Friday if I have time, so keep an eye open!

^You might recognise some text from the actual Deathly Hallows book... and yeah, I took some quotes from the book, but I won't in the future. It's going to become much, much more AU.

BTW, I am aware that the prologue was pretty short, but no worries, the next chapters will be somewhere around 3k words.

OH AND TODAY IS MY FIRST DAY OF HOLIDAYS!