Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural, just borrowing the characters for a little entertainment. =P

Prologue

At last.

At long last, he had finally beaten the Potter brat and he could not withhold his triumphant cackling as he turned his back on the fallen form of the Boy-Who-Lived to face the horrified looks of the light wizards that dared oppose him and his followers.

"Harry Potter is no more!" He exclaimed, basking in his moment of victory. The one that could ever hope to possibly defeat him was dead by his feet and they all knew it by the looks on their defeated faces.

His feeling of success didn't last long though.

"Oh, I wouldn't be quite sure about that, Tom." A voice behind him spoke.

He whirled around in alarm, and his snake-like features twisted from an expression of triumph to an expression of shock and pain when he found himself impaled by Gryffindor's sword. He stared into the bright green eyes of his longtime enemy, his hands grasping at the blade protruding from his stomach in an attempt to prevent it from further impaling him.

"H-how?" He uttered. The Potter boy had the audacity to smirk up at him and stepped in closer to his body, twisting the sword.

"You've made a mistake, Tom." He taunted him. "If you were going to kill me, you might've wanted to remove the part of the soul you've placed in me first."

His red eyes reflected his surprise at the information and the brat dare utter a laugh. Without much of a warning, the boy yanked the sword from his body before delivering a magic enhanced kick that sent him flying a couple of feet away. He grunted in pain when the Gryffindor sword was once again impaled within his body, pinning him to the floor. He raised his wand in an attempt to send a curse towards the boy only to have it kicked out of his hand, sending his wand spinning away into the shadows.

Pain was coursing through his body and for once in his life, Lord Voldemort might be feeling fear for his life. His horucruxes were gone; the Potter brat and the other two twerps had managed to find and destroy them all, making him mortal once more. His eyes flickered to his followers and saw that the light wizards were actively restraining and pushing back the dark wizards to prevent them from coming to his aid.

It came to him then, he was going to die.

Looking into the eyes of his enemy, he began to laugh. It was just all too funny. The motion of his stomach muscles was pushing out the blood from his body more rapidly from all his laughing.

"You may have defeated me, Potter, but you'll find that there are worse things out there than me and when they get their hands on you, I'll be one of the first beings that'll give you a warm welcome in hell." He coughed then, wiping the blood that dribbled from his mouth with the back of his hand.

The brat gave a humorless laugh.

"Well, until then, have fun on the rack with the thought that I was the one who sent you there."

Without another moment, the Potter boy lifted up his wand and shot off the killing curse at him. He watched the bright green curse fly towards him and within seconds, he was struck. With his red eyes slowly fading into a dull sheen, he had only one thought swirling around his mind.

It is far from over between us, Potter.