tanaquific

Title: The Devil Is In The Detail
Fandom: Tolkien and Harry Potter crossover
Rating: General
Warnings: crack!fic
Words: 570
Summary: Two Dark Lords compare notes. Written for the

cliche_bingo prompt "Crossover: Books and Literary" at

elena_tiriel's suggestion.
Author's Note: Thanks to

elena_tiriel and

scribblesinink for the beta.

oOo

"Six?" Annatar's eyebrows rose. "That is... impressive."

Lord Voldemort quietly preened. "I thought so myself."

"And did they give you power and dominion over all over other creatures, allow you to drive armies before you, and have the peoples of the world bow down to you?"

"Umm, not quite," Voldemort admitted. "Of course, the Muggles would have been easy with or without the horcruxes. But it was the wizards I had to worry about."

"Ah, yes." Annatar knew all about wizards and how troublesome they could be.

"But I did have almost all of them pretty scared of me for a few years," Lord Voldemort added quickly. "And when one of my plans did—ah, backfire a little, the horcruxes helped me stay alive and begin my return to power."

"Hmmph." It was the kind of unimpressed sound made by a being who had survived several apocalypses and always bounced back. Even if the last-but-one had been a little messy and he'd never really liked his new look afterwards. Still, you had to make the best of things.

"But you only made the one ring?" Lord Voldemort flicked at a speck of dust on his cloak with a disdainful finger.

Annatar drew himself up and was on the point of angrily snapping back that there may have only been one but it was more powerful than all the rest when he realized that was exactly the kind of response Lord Voldemort was looking for.

Lord Voldemort raised his brows, waiting for a reply, while Annatar floundered for a moment. Finally, the answer came to him. "Why do all the work yourself?" he sneered. "Encouraging one's adversaries to connive in their own downfall is so much more satisfying, don't you think?"

Lord Voldemort gave him a slightly surprised look, as if the idea had never occurred to him. "Isn't that why one has minions?" he asked uncertainly.

Annatar rolled his eyes a little. "See, that's why we never win." He waved a hand around at the assembled company. "The other side always finds the fatal flaw in our plans and uses it to bring us down. If we spent a bit more time working on them, and all those things they think are so important: love of country, love of glory, love of family...."

Lord Voldemort tensed. "Ah, yes. Love." Annatar had rarely heard anyone invest a word with such contempt.

The two of them lapsed into silence for a while, Annatar reflecting that, in the end, love had turned out to be a bit of a double-edged sword. At last he shook himself and looked back at Lord Voldemort. "So... what happened?" It was something of a delicate question here in the Evil Overlord Afterlife, but Annatar had a fascination with the downfall of others. Because when he finally got out of this stinking place—and he knew that somewhere in the Grand Plan (he'd never paid much attention to the details) there was something about a Last Battle—he was going to make damn sure he avoided anyone else's mistakes.

"Problem was," Lord Voldemort admitted with a sigh, "I accidentally made a seventh horcrux.... And I never expected anyone to be able to track down the other six. If it hadn't been for those meddling kids...." He lapsed into thoughtful silence for a while. At last he shook himself. "You?"

"Hobbits," Annatar said glumly. "Damn ankle-biters, eh?"