Chapter 6:
– Harry –
Serafall was once again bawling dramatically, her voice filling the room with exaggerated sobs as she tightened her grip around me. Her slender arms were like steel cables, squeezing my torso in a hold that felt deceptively delicate but was nearly impossible to escape. The warmth and softness of her body pressed insistently against me—her ample breasts squashed firmly against my chest, each curve distinctly noticeable, and the smooth, supple flesh of her thighs gripping mine in an almost desperate embrace.
I stood there awkwardly, cheeks heating from both embarrassment and the undeniable, distracting sensations her clinginess caused.
"Harry, you can't leave me!" Serafall wailed, her voice quivering and melodramatic. "First, Sona left me all alone, and now you're going to abandon me forever, too! It's too cruel!"
I let out a weary sigh, gently patting her back in a futile attempt to calm her. In the short weeks since I'd met her, I'd rapidly discovered how incredibly clingy, eccentric, and emotional my mother Serafall could be. Still, despite her over-the-top theatrics and relentless displays of affection, I found myself genuinely fond of her.
She might have been a bit much at times—well, most of the time—but I couldn't deny I loved her just the same.
Just when I thought Serafall's wails couldn't get any louder or more dramatic, her stunningly blonde Queen, Behemoth, strode into the room. She was a vision as always, tall and regal with a perfectly sculpted figure that demanded attention. Her eyes narrowed with irritation as she moved closer, losing patience with her mistress.
"Lady Leviathan," Behemoth said firmly, placing her hands onto Serafall's trembling shoulders and attempting to pry her away. "Please stop being so dramatic! You have a mountain of paperwork awaiting your attention. Harry-sama is only going to be gone for a few days at most!"
Serafall's sobs quieted just slightly, and she lifted her head from my shoulder, her cheeks flushed, eyes wide and wet with tears. She pouted dramatically, giving Behemoth a look of pitiful defiance. "But it's too long! Any amount of time away from my precious Harry is torture! What if he forgets about me?"
I couldn't suppress a chuckle despite my embarrassment, shaking my head as I finally managed to gently disengage her arms from around me. "I won't forget you, Mum. It's literally just a couple of days. I promise I'll be back before you even realize I've been gone."
Serafall sniffled loudly, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. "You promise, Harry? You really promise?"
"Yes, I promise," I assured her, meeting her tearful gaze with sincerity.
Behemoth exhaled a breath of relief, nodding to me gratefully as she carefully guided the still-sniffling Serafall away from me. "Come now, Lady Leviathan, there's plenty of work waiting. You'll see Harry-sama again very soon."
Mum then got a mischievous look in her eye.
"We need to give him something to remember us by, so he doesn't forget about us," Serafall pouted dramatically, her voice dripping with exaggerated concern. She crossed her arms under her ample breasts, pushing them up enticingly. "I won't let those young, pretty human girls steal my precious Harry away! Behemoth, do something so he won't forget about us. I order you as your king!" she demanded with a pout and stomped her foot.
Behemoth rolled her blue eyes beneath the frames of her sexy glasses, the motion both alluring and exasperated. Clearly used to Serafall's theatrics, she nevertheless complied without a word of protest. "Excuse me, Harry-sama," she murmured softly, stepping closer to me with graceful, measured strides that made her long, toned legs incredibly noticeable.
Before I had time to fully comprehend her intentions, Behemoth leaned forward abruptly. My eyes widened as her full, plush lips pressed against mine. Her kiss was bold, possessive, her mouth open and inviting. Her tongue slipped deftly between my lips, tangling with mine as she deepened the kiss without hesitation.
My body reacted instantly, a hot shiver coursing down my spine. The kiss was electrifying, her lips and tongue leaving me breathless and dizzy. My hands hovered uncertainly at my sides, fists clenching tightly as I struggled not to grab onto her curvy hips and pull her closer. Behemoth maintained the intense lip-lock for a solid thirty seconds, each moment of her lips and tongue escalating my arousal until I was painfully aware of how stiff and demanding my erection had become.
She pulled back slowly, a thin trail of saliva connecting our mouths briefly before snapping apart. Her piercing eyes, laced with amusement and satisfaction, lingered on my flushed face before dropping pointedly downward.
With a sly smirk, she gestured openly toward my blatantly obvious erection, the fabric of my pants strained obscenely by my hardened cock. Turning her attention back to Serafall, Behemoth asked dryly, "Happy now? He won't forget that."
"Perfect!" Serafall declared cheerfully, clapping her hands in delight. With a playful skip, she bounded toward me, surprising me yet again as she stood on tiptoes and placed a quick, chaste kiss on my lips. It was brief and sweet compared to the overwhelming passion Behemoth had unleashed, yet it still managed to leave me stunned.
Serafall giggled mischievously at my shocked expression, clearly enjoying my predicament. "Have fun in the human world, Harry! But remember," she warned playfully, wagging a finger at me, "not too much fun~"
I watched Serafall swaying her hips and ass as she skipped out of the room, her short skirt bouncing with every cheerful step. The image burned vividly into my mind, and I felt heat rush up my neck, turning my cheeks a deep red. I blinked slowly, still processing the outrageous goodbye she'd just orchestrated. Turning my eyes to Behemoth, I silently questioned if everything that had just happened was real or if I'd somehow imagined the entire scene.
Behemoth caught my gaze, her full, sensual lips curving into an amused smirk. She winked at me knowingly, her striking blue eyes filled with playful mischief. "Have fun in the human world, Harry-sama," she said, her voice smooth and teasing.
Before I could respond, she activated the teleportation formula beneath my feet. The intricate runes etched onto the floor glowed brilliantly with a deep blue light, and I felt the familiar, strange sensation of being pulled through space. Traveling instantly from the Underworld back to London never ceased to amaze me. Normally, a journey this far would mean hours on a cramped train, but nepotism clearly had its advantages.
As the son of a Maou, I enjoyed privileges that other devils only dreamed of. Discreet and instantaneous travel between the "two worlds" was just one of them.
Sona had the same perks, and I'd heard that a girl named Rias Gremory, apparently the little sister of another Maou and one of Sona's closest friends, could also move back and forth freely.
Moments later, the teleportation magic deposited me right into a familiar living room. Before I could even get my bearings, I was wrapped in a warm, enthusiastic hug.
Hermione's soft, inviting body pressed tightly against mine, her arms wrapping firmly around my neck. Her touch sent a warm shiver down my spine, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling as she hugged me even tighter.
"Harry! I missed you so much!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with happiness and excitement. Her curly hair brushed softly against my cheek, tickling slightly as she squeezed me in her embrace.
"It's great to see you again, Hermione," I replied sincerely, feeling my own arms wrap around her waist naturally. Over her shoulder, I noticed her parents smiling politely at us, obviously pleased at the reunion.
As she finally released me, Hermione stepped back just enough to gaze up into my face, her eyes sparkling with genuine affection. "I couldn't wait for you to get here! We've got so much to talk about!"
I chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. Hermione's family were devil worshipers, Mum had easily convinced them to host a Sitri Clan teleportation circle right in their home.
"You want a beer, Lord Harry. Or maybe a scotch on the rocks? Whatever you need I'll get it for you..." John asked.
Hermione's parents, John and Janet, were practically tripping over themselves, rushing around me like eager servants. Their eyes sparkled with excitement, and they wore wide, overly-friendly smiles. Janet stepped close, batting her eyelashes dramatically.
"Harry, is there anything you need? Anything at all?" she asked, her voice dropping into a suggestive tone that made my throat go dry.
She reached up to her shirt, tugging the top of it down slightly so I could see down the top of her breasts. I swallowed hard, feeling a sudden heat creeping up my neck. The way Janet was staring at me wasn't exactly motherly—it felt like a blatant invitation. Knowing they worshipped devils had definitely changed things. They treated me completely differently from when we'd first met. The deference and eagerness were obvious, almost uncomfortable.
The look Janet was giving me right then was particularly intense, and I had the uneasy feeling that if I asked her to get down on her knees and suck me off right there, even in front of her husband, she wouldn't hesitate.
Part of me felt powerful and liked the idea of having that kind of control, a darker part I didn't usually entertain. But that part had been becoming a bit more prominent in my mind ever since mum fully unsealed my devil heritage.
But these were Hermione's parents. Hermione was one of my closest friends, and crossing lines like that wasn't something I wanted to risk. Plus I just wasn't an asshole like that.
Hermione must have noticed my discomfort and the increasingly overbearing attentiveness of her parents because she suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me gently but firmly toward the door.
"Harry's fine, Mom, Dad. We're supposed to be somewhere else soon," Hermione said pointedly, shooting her parents a firm glance as she tugged me along.
Janet and John exchanged brief looks before smiling again, a bit sheepishly this time. "Of course, dear," John replied quickly, nodding vigorously. "You two go have fun."
Janet's smile was still bright but carried a hint of regret at missing the chance to continue doting on me. "Bye, sweetheart! We love you," she called out warmly.
Hermione smiled and waved. "Love you too…"
Just as we stepped outside, John added hastily, "And Hermione, make sure to listen carefully to Lord Harry Sitri and do anything he asks!" Janet chimed in eagerly, emphasizing, "Anything at all!"
I felt my cheeks burn hotter at their enthusiasm, casting a sideways glance at Hermione who just rolled her eyes but was blushing the same as I was as she glanced at me. "Sorry about them," she muttered as we moved further away.
I glanced over at Hermione and shrugged awkwardly, trying to brush off the heat lingering in my cheeks. "It's alright," I told her, forcing a casual laugh. "I just didn't expect them to be so enthusiastic."
That was one word for it...
Hermione groaned softly, rubbing her forehead like she was fighting off embarrassment. "Harry, you really don't even know the half of it," she sighed, shaking her head slowly. "My parents have been beyond excited for weeks now. It's been nonstop."
I raised an eyebrow, giving her a curious look. "Really?"
She nodded, sighing again. "Yes, really. Think about it. They've believed in devils and magic for years without any solid proof. And then when I was 16 years old, we found out magic was real. Now they find out devils and demons are also real—and even better, their daughter is close friends with an actual devil prince! It's made them more than a little overly excited..." she trailed off.
I chuckled despite myself, thinking about how surreal that must be for her. Part of me wanted to ask exactly how her family ended up worshipping devils in the first place, but it felt like it might lead into a longer conversation than we had time for right now.
Instead, I shifted gears, focusing on our next move. "Okay, so how are we supposed to get to the Weasleys' place?"
Hermione's eyes sparkled with anticipation, and a sly grin crept onto her face. She reached out, gently slipping her warm hand into mine, her fingers interlacing with mine comfortably. "We're going to apparate," she said.
"What's apparating?"
Her grin widened, and she squeezed my hand reassuringly. "It's wizarding teleportation. Sort of like what you're used to, but much less comfortable. You may or may not vomit your first time..."
"Oh, great," I replied dryly, unable to stop a small, uneasy laugh. "Sounds delightful..."
She rolled her eyes playfully but stepped closer, tightening her grip on my hand. "I've practised this a lot. Don't worry, it's completely safe. Unpleasant, but safe. And since we're both over 18, we can use magic freely—even if we're both still attending Hogwarts." Hermione had been so happy in her letters when she found out I'd be attending Hogwarts as well this year, in the same class as her.
…Although, I knew that she was a bit nervous about what that would do for all the rumors about the two of us. The newspaper articles about Hermione being "Harry Potter's muggleborn secret Mistress" had not died down.
And yes, the wizarding world still thought James Potter was my father.
For now...
"Alright," she warned, her eyes meeting mine seriously now. "Hang on tight. This is going to feel really weird."
Before I could ask what she meant by "weird," I felt a sudden, intense pull, like I was being sucked rapidly into a tight, uncomfortable tube.
...My hands were gripping my knees tightly as I fought hard not to throw up. My stomach churned violently, and I took deep breaths, desperately trying to settle it down. This type of teleportation felt way worse than the devil's version—like my insides had been scrambled and shaken around!
Fuck, that really was unpleasant!
"You alright, Harry?" Hermione asked gently, stepping closer with a worried look on her face.
"Give me a second," I groaned, slowly straightening up. My legs felt shaky, and I swallowed heavily to keep everything down. "What the hell was that?"
She gave me an embarrassed smile, rubbing the back of her neck. "Sorry, it's always rough the first time. You'll eventually get used to it, though."
I shook my head firmly, taking another steadying breath. "I'd rather not have to get used to something like that," I muttered, earning an amused smile from her.
Hermione chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling playfully as she reached into a small pouch hanging at her hip. I watched in amazement as she stuck her whole arm inside it, disappearing up to her shoulder before pulling out a blackened wand with a deep blue handle. "Here," she said, holding it out to me. "I got this for you."
I took it hesitantly, turning it over in my hands curiously. "What's this for?"
"Well, it'll look strange if you go around casting spells without a wand," Hermione explained patiently. "Wizards use wands, and people might start asking awkward questions if you start doing magic with just your hands."
"Right," I replied slowly, feeling foolish for not considering that myself. "Thanks, Hermione."
"Of course," she said with a smile. "I just figured you'd need it to blend in better."
I nodded, thinking it through carefully. I couldn't use the Sitri magic circles on my hands either. They were tattooed in invisible ink—although they glowed bright blue when I used them—and using them openly would definitely draw unwanted attention. Clan magic circles had been perfected over centuries, maybe even thousands of years, and using them made devil magic incredibly powerful and precise. But it would also be a clear sign that I wasn't human.
At least to people who knew about devils. Maybe Dumbledore didn't know, but then again he was a teacher and I imagine he didn't really get out that much.
On the other hand, I could still cast spells just fine using my imagination. It wouldn't be as strong, and it'd take more energy, but at least it wouldn't draw attention. Combined with the fake wand Hermione had gotten me, I felt confident I could blend into the wizarding world without causing any suspicion.
Hermione gave me an encouraging nod, clearly pleased with her idea. "You ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," I said with a nervous laugh, tucking the wand into my pocket.
'...What a shithole,' I thought immediately as Hermione and I stood in front of the house she'd teleported us to. This was supposedly where the Weasley family lived—the same family Dumbledore wanted me to meet. I looked sideways at Hermione, wondering if she was seeing the same thing I was. Her eyes were wide open, staring at the house with a shocked expression.
The house looked like someone had just taken a bunch of sticks and shoved them together with magic to form a house shape. Sure, it was big enough, but it didn't seem very sturdy or comfortable. Some parts looked like they might fall over any second. There were windows at odd angles, and bits of wood sticking out randomly.
"I kind of expected an entire magical family to live somewhere nicer," I said, scratching the back of my head awkwardly.
Hermione turned her surprised gaze to me and offered a wry smile. "Honestly, so did I," she admitted. "But I've heard a lot of rumors at Hogwarts. The Weasleys are supposed to be incredibly poor."
I tilted my head, genuinely confused. "How can they be poor? They have magic. Can't they just, I don't know, turn invisible and rob a Muggle bank or something?"
Hermione smacked my arm playfully, but her cheeks were flushed with amusement. "Harry! That would be totally wrong!"
I laughed, feeling the tension ease a little. "Yeah, but they could still do it, right?"
She rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Technically, yes. But wizards have rules against that sort of thing."
"Right," I nodded thoughtfully. "But seriously, how do wizard families even end up poorer than Muggles? It doesn't make sense."
Hermione tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I've always wondered about that too. With all the magical resources they have, you'd think every wizarding family would at least be comfortable."
Before we could continue, the front door of the house suddenly swung open, and we both jumped slightly in surprise.
There was a very beautiful young woman standing in front of us, with long, vibrant orange hair cascading down her shoulders and pale, smooth skin dotted with adorable freckles across her heart-shaped face. Her eyes were a bright, sparkling blue that widened dramatically as she stared at me. She had a curvy figure, accentuated by the simple summer dress she wore, which hugged her body in just the right places, making it hard not to stare.
Her mouth fell open into an 'O' shape, her eyes darting rapidly back and forth between me and Hermione before finally settling on my face. "Holy shite, you're Harry Potter," she blurted out, her cheeks instantly turning a deep, embarrassed pink.
I chuckled softly, amused by her reaction, deciding not to immediately correct her mistake about my last name. "Hi, I'm Harry," I said with a friendly smile.
Hermione, standing next to me, gave the girl a warm smile. "Hello, Ginny," she greeted gently.
Ginny glanced briefly at Hermione, visibly nervous and slightly flustered. "Mom said you were supposed to be coming over today before the World Cup, but honestly, I thought she was just having us on," she admitted sheepishly. Then her gaze snapped back to Hermione with an intense curiosity, her voice dropping to an eager whisper. "Are the tabloids true? Are you actually Harry Potter's secret mistress?"
Hermione's face immediately flushed bright red, and she sputtered, clearly mortified by the question. "Absolutely not!" she protested, shaking her head vehemently.
Seeing Hermione's embarrassment, I couldn't resist teasing her just a bit. I slid my arm smoothly around her shoulders, pulling her close against my side, causing her to shiver slightly in surprise. "Come on, love," I said playfully, leaning in close enough that my voice was just loud enough for Ginny to hear clearly. "We can't hide what we are."
With a mischievous grin, I placed a quick, playful kiss on Hermione's flushed cheek, causing her blush to deepen further. I turned my gaze back to Ginny and winked, enjoying her shocked reaction.
"Uh oh," I muttered, noticing Ginny's eyes starting to roll back into her head. She began making faint, odd noises—something like "ah wah wah wah"—and suddenly started to sway dangerously backward. Reacting quickly, I released Hermione and lunged forward, wrapping my arms around Ginny just before she hit the ground.
I lowered her gently, supporting her head carefully with one hand while my other hand softly touched her warm cheek. "Hey, are you alright?" I asked gently, leaning closer to check on her.
Ginny blinked rapidly, clearly trying to regain her senses. Her eyes slowly focused on mine, widening once again as awareness returned to her expression. Her entire face turned scarlet, a deep blush that spread rapidly across her cheeks and neck.
"This is the kind of thing I've always dreamed of," she mumbled faintly, almost to herself, her voice trembling with embarrassment and awe. "Harry Potter is actually holding me in his arms."
Hearing that, I couldn't help but chuckle quietly. Yeah, it was pretty clear, this girl was definitely a fangirl. Carefully, I helped her to stand again, still supporting her gently with my hands on her waist.
"Easy now," I said warmly, keeping my grip supportive until she found her footing again.
She swayed slightly, holding tightly onto my shoulders for balance. Her hands trembled a little, and her eyes stayed locked on mine. "I'm so sorry," she stammered, obviously embarrassed. "I didn't mean to just...you know, faint."
Hermione sighed beside me, giving me a sideways glare even as she tried to hide a small smile. "Honestly, Harry," she scolded lightly, shaking her head. "Did you really have to tease her like that?"
I chuckled again, letting go of Ginny carefully once she was steady. "Sorry," I said, not entirely sincerely. "I couldn't resist. It was too perfect."
Ginny giggled nervously, tucking a strand of her vivid orange hair behind her ear. "I guess I deserved that," she admitted shyly, glancing up at me through her eyelashes. "I really am a big fan."
"So I noticed," I replied gently, smiling reassuringly to put her at ease. "It's really nice to meet you, Ginny."
Ginny smiled back at me brightly, her blush still vividly visible on her pale cheeks. "It's amazing to meet you too, Harry!"
Two twin redhead boys suddenly walked out from inside the house, their mischievous expressions immediately catching my attention. They were tall and lean, with identical freckles scattered across their pale faces, and bright green eyes gleaming with mischief. They had the same shade of vivid orange hair as Ginny, messy and slightly unruly, adding to their playful, carefree appearance.
The moment they spotted us, grins spread across their faces. One of the twins elbowed his brother and pointed straight at Ginny, who was still standing awkwardly close to me, her cheeks flushed bright red.
"Well, would you look at that, George," one of them teased loudly. "Ginny finally got her wish. She's practically swooning in Harry Potter's arms."
"I know, Fred," the other chimed in with exaggerated shock. "Our little sister, all grown up and already throwing herself at her childhood hero."
Ginny scowled fiercely at her brothers, stepping back quickly from me, her face somehow becoming even redder. "Shut up, you two idiots," she snapped, her voice shaking slightly with embarrassment.
Hermione sighed beside me, clearly familiar with their antics. Turning toward me, she spoke up calmly. "Harry, these are Fred and George. They're going to be sixth years this year in Gryffindor. And yes, they're absolute menaces at school. Always playing pranks and causing trouble."
Fred and George smirked at Hermione, exchanging quick glances with each other before turning their mischievous grins toward her.
"Wow, Hermione," Fred teased playfully. "That's high praise coming from Gryffindor's secret Ravenclaw nerd girl."
"Yeah," George agreed, nodding seriously. "Honestly, we take that as a huge compliment."
I couldn't help but frown slightly at their teasing. Ravenclaw was the Hogwarts house for studious, smart students—so yes, nerds.
...Something that definitely described Hermione, judging by her enthusiastic letters filled with excitement about learning and studying.
But I still didn't like hearing anyone tease my friend. It rubbed me the wrong way, even if they weren't being entirely mean-spirited.
Fred and George immediately noticed my frown, quickly exchanging uneasy looks before turning back toward me, their expressions shifting to apologetic. "Sorry, mate," Fred said quickly, raising his hands defensively. "We didn't mean anything by it. Just messing around."
George nodded rapidly in agreement. "Yeah, seriously. We're just surprised and excited to have a legend like Harry Potter standing in our house."
Fred suddenly grinned again, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he gave me an exaggerated once-over. "Honestly, though, George, look at him. He's so handsome, he's going to steal our girlfriend!"
George dramatically clutched his chest, faking distress. "Exactly! First Hermione, now Ginny—this guy just keeps snatching everyone's girlfriends. There's no stopping the boy-whos-too-damn-handsome!"
I couldn't hold back a smirk at their antics, feeling the tension easing from the room. Despite their initial teasing, it was clear they meant well and were just having fun.
Ginny, however, clearly didn't share my amusement. Her face was still bright red, her eyes narrowing angrily at her brothers as she crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "You two are impossible," she muttered irritably. "Can't you act normal just once? Especially when we're trying to make a good impression! Now he thinks we're weird!"
Fred and George shared another quick glance, their smirks softening slightly as they looked back at their sister. "Aw, come on, Ginny," Fred said soothingly. "You know we love you."
"Yeah," George added sincerely. "We only tease because we care."
Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically but couldn't hide the slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Fine," she relented grudgingly. "Just try not to embarrass me too much today."
"No promises!" Fred and George declared in unison, grinning broadly as they turned their attention back to Hermione and me.
"Anyway," Fred continued cheerfully. "Come inside! Mum's been cooking all day, and she's going to be thrilled you're here."
Hermione and I followed Fred, George, and Ginny deeper into the Weasley's house.
Once inside, I immediately noticed how different it looked compared to the outside. The inside was surprisingly warm and cozy. Everything looked neatly arranged and inviting. The walls were covered in family photos that moved, showing smiling faces waving or laughing, clearly happy. The furniture looked worn but comfortable, giving the whole place a relaxed and lived-in feeling.
I felt slightly guilty. I had definitely been quick to judge this place as a complete dump when we'd first arrived, but now it felt like a real home. It felt warmer and friendlier than the large but cold house I'd lived in with the Dursleys growing up. I couldn't help but compare the difference. That place had always felt stiff and sterile, like no one truly belonged there. But this place felt different. It felt real.
As we moved further inside, a woman stepped out of what looked to be the kitchen. She was probably in her mid-thirties from appearance, attractive with soft features and vibrant red hair pulled into a messy bun. She was slightly plump but in a pleasant way, the curves of her body comfortably filling out the simple yet flattering dress she wore. Her cheeks were flushed from cooking, and her eyes lit up with excitement when she saw us entering.
"Oh, you're finally here!" she exclaimed joyfully, wiping her hands on a cloth and rushing over to greet us. "I'm Molly Weasley, it's so wonderful to meet you both!"
I smiled politely, extending my hand to shake hers, but Molly ignored it and instead enveloped me in a warm hug. Making me really feel those nice plump curves as I was squished against her suddenly.
She stepped back slightly, her hands gripping my shoulders as she looked up at me. "You have no idea how happy we were when Dumbledore contacted us and told us you were alive after all these years!" she gushed emotionally. Her voice was slightly shaky with genuine excitement and happiness. "Your parents were very dear friends of ours. They were wonderful people." Her eyes softened as she spoke, her voice dropping slightly. "Especially James Potter. He was such a brave, honorable man. You remind me so much of him already!"
I shifted uneasily, glancing sideways at Hermione, who was watching me carefully, clearly understanding my discomfort.
"Er, yeah," I said quietly, not knowing exactly how to respond without sounding rude or blunt.
Ginny noticed my hesitation, immediately sensing something was off. Her eyebrows knitted together with concern as she looked up at me curiously. "Harry, is something wrong? Did Mum say something weird?"
Fred and George stopped their joking around, turning their attention fully towards me as well, their smiles slipping into confused expressions.
I scratched awkwardly at my cheek, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under everyone's intense stares. "Um, well," I began slowly. "Actually, James Potter wasn't my father…"
A stunned silence immediately filled the room. Molly's eyes widened dramatically, shock clearly visible on her face. "Oh, my goodness!" she gasped, one hand flying to her mouth.
Fred and George shared an astonished glance, looking back at me with matching expressions of disbelief and curiosity. Ginny just stared at me, completely stunned, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open as she processed my words.
"Are you not the boy-who-lived?" Ginny asked, her voice soft but clearly filled with confusion. Her bright blue eyes widened slightly, looking between my face and Hermione's anxiously.
"I mean, I'm 19. I'm not exactly a boy anymore, am I?" I joked, giving her a small smile as I lifted my hand to push my hair back from my forehead.
As the strands moved aside, the faded but still visible scar I'd carried my entire life came into clear view. I traced the jagged shape gently with my fingertips, aware of everyone's eyes locked on the distinctive mark.
Ginny gasped softly, stepping closer to get a better look. Fred and George immediately leaned forward as well, their curiosity palpable.
"I've always had this scar," I explained, dropping my hand back down and meeting Ginny's astonished gaze. Although, only recently did I find out how I got it from some of the "Harry Potter" books I bought in Flourish and Blotts. "It came from when I was a baby. That evil dickhead wizard, the one who killed my mother Lily Potter, tried to use the killing curse on me. But the spell rebounded on him instead, killing him. Honestly, I'm glad the bastard got fucked by his own magic."
There was a brief silence. "So Lily Potter cheated on James Potter? That's the greatest gossip we've ever heard!" George—or maybe Fred, it was hard to keep track—suddenly blurted out.
"Blimey! That's the gossip of the year right there!" the other twin declared.
Before either twin could say anything more, Molly immediately stepped forward and smacked both sons sharply on their arms. "That's incredibly rude, boys!" she scolded firmly, glaring at them with maternal irritation. "Stop gossiping about something so personal!"
"No, it's fine," I told Molly. "But yes, it's totally true. Lily Potter did cheat on James Potter. But honestly, James cheated first. He even had a kid himself, so it's really not fair to put all the blame on Lily. In my opinion, they just got married too young, and were in the middle of a war on top of that. That must have been insanely stressful..."
Ginny's mouth fell open. "Wait—there's a secret Potter child at Hogwarts right now?" she gasped.
"I don't actually know her name or who she is. All I've heard is that she's a girl around my age, currently attending Hogwarts."
Immediately, Fred and George leaned toward each other, their expressions filled with excited speculation as they began whispering rapidly between themselves. whispering different girls names I didn't recognize and trying to match those girls' appearances with the "famous Potter genetics."
I had no idea what those famous genetics were until Ginny spoke up saying everyone in the gossip columns did think it was strange I didn't inherit James Potter's messy brown hair.
That would be something I could look out for at the very least. Or I could just ask Dumbledore. But maybe finding her on my own would be more fun. That would be something I could look out for at the very least. Although I don't know if this girl and I would get along considering we were both born from "our parents" cheating on each other with other people.
A loud stomping echoed down from upstairs, making everyone turn their heads toward the ceiling. Molly chuckled warmly, shaking her head slightly. "That'll be my youngest son, Ron. He likes to sleep in late whenever he can."
Fred immediately nudged George, and the two exchanged sly grins. "That's only because Ron spends all night up with those Naughty Witch Weekly magazines," George said, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.
Hermione and Ginny both cringed visibly, letting out matching sounds of disgust.
"Gross," Ginny muttered, shaking her head vehemently.
"Honestly," Hermione groaned, wrinkling her nose. "Can we not talk about your brother's hobbies..."
I, however, was too shocked by the revelation to react with disgust. I looked at Fred, raising an eyebrow curiously. "Wait, the magical world has porn magazines? Are they actually any good?"
Yes, I was genuinely curious.
Fred's grin widened. "Oh, you have no idea, mate," he said enthusiastically, leaning in closer, but not actually whispering. "They're bloody brilliant! Moving pictures and everything. Nothing like boring old Muggle magazines. Trust me, witches love to use their wands for a lot more than just casting spells!"
"We do not!" Hermione sputtered.
"Only slutty witches do that!" Ginny said with a blush.
And yet, now the image was planted in my mind as I glanced between Hermione and Ginny, imagining them both naked with their "wands." It's not like I could help it, it was just a natural reaction...
Molly, who had moved back to the stove to stir whatever delicious-smelling meal she had been cooking, clearly overheard Fred's words despite the distance. Without even turning around, she whipped a wooden spoon through the air with frightening accuracy.
It smacked Fred firmly on the back of his head, causing him to wince and rub the spot dramatically. "Ouch! Mum!" Fred protested loudly, though he still looked amused rather than upset.
"Fred Weasley, we have guests and this is not a proper discussion!" Molly scolded sharply. "Behave yourself!"
And yet I noticed she didn't refute the words about her youngest son...
I chuckled lightly, thoroughly amused by the friendly chaos of the Weasley household. It was clear this family was extremely close and comfortable around each other.
Before I could ask anything more, footsteps sounded clearly from the hallway, drawing my attention. Another young man with vivid orange hair walked into the kitchen. He was tall and gangly, around my age, with a lanky build and a slightly awkward posture. His face was freckled heavily like his siblings, and his hair was tousled in a sleepy, bedhead mess. He wore a slightly grumpy expression, obviously still waking up and maybe irritated by the commotion?
The newcomer's eyes landed first on Hermione, his expression twisting instantly into a sour frown. "What's the whiney nerd doing here?" he grumbled rudely, clearly not bothering to hide his disdain.
Hermione stiffened beside me, her cheeks flushing slightly in hurt and irritation. She opened her mouth to respond, but I stepped forward protectively.
His gaze shifted toward me, his blue eyes narrowing suspiciously as he openly sized me up. "And who are you supposed to be? You're dressed in rich person clothes. You look like one of those pompous, slimy snakes from Slytherin," he sneered.
Wow, what a dick.
"I see you're as rude as ever, Ronald," Hermione grumbled, her voice tense with irritation as she crossed her arms firmly over her chest, glaring at him sharply.
"You can't talk that way to Harry Potter! Or, I mean—" Ginny suddenly stopped, turning toward me with an awkward look. "Sorry, what's your real last name, Harry?" she asked.
I smiled at her reassuringly. "Sitri. Harry Sitri." I said with pride.
Ginny gave me a warm, appreciative smile before turning back to face Ron again, her expression instantly darkening into annoyance once more. "You can't talk to Harry Sitri like that!" she scolded sharply.
Ron just shrugged dismissively as he glanced back at me with obvious disdain. "I don't care. This bloke is just another fake Boy-Who-Lived. We get posers like this every year trying to claim they're the real deal. The real Boy-Who-Lived is obviously DEAD." He turned abruptly, reaching out and snatching a bright red apple from a bowl on the kitchen table. He bit into it loudly, crunching obnoxiously as juice dribbled down his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, giving me one final sneer before heading toward the stairs. "I'll be in my room until it's time to leave for the World Cup," he announced rudely, disappearing around the corner without another word.
I watched him go in irritation. "Well," I muttered quietly to myself, feeling a surge of annoyance, "most of the family is great so far, but that guy was definitely a dick."
Ginny sighed deeply from beside me, her shoulders slumping slightly in clear embarrassment. She turned toward me, her expression apologetic and eyes sincere. "I'm really sorry about Ron, Harry. He's always had this big fantasy about becoming best friends with the Boy-Who-Lived. He practically grew up obsessed with him."
Her gaze shifted to the floor, and she fidgeted awkwardly with a strand of her long orange hair, twisting it around her fingers nervously. "When everyone started believing the Boy-Who-Lived was dead, it hit him really hard. He took it personally, I guess. Ever since then, he's gotten really bitter and angry about anyone claiming to be him."
Molly looked genuinely upset with Ron's attitude, shaking her head and apologizing to me repeatedly, promising sternly that she'd deal with his behavior later.
I waved her apologies away with an easy smile, telling her that I didn't let stuff like that bother me much. Well, unless it was Saji—that asshole had run his mouth non-stop for a week straight, and deserved the ass beating I gave him.
We all sat down at the long wooden dining table, and Molly bustled around enthusiastically, serving dishes overflowing with delicious, homemade food. The mouthwatering aroma of roasted chicken, fresh bread, and various steaming sides filled the room, making my stomach rumble eagerly. I dug in, complimenting Molly, which made her smile brightly in return.
Hermione had chosen the chair immediately to my right. Ginny slid into the seat directly on my left, pulling it so close our knees touched lightly beneath the table. Her vibrant red hair fell gracefully over one shoulder as she leaned forward, giving me a playful grin.
Hermione shot Ginny a quick look before subtly shifting her own chair even closer to mine. I could feel the gentle pressure of her thigh pressing deliberately against my leg.
Ginny responded immediately, pressing her own leg against mine firmly, her bright blue eyes narrowed challengingly across the table at Hermione.
Fred and George sat across from me, watching this silent competition unfold with matching shit-eating grins plastered on their identical faces. Every time Ginny attempted to start a conversation with me, Hermione instantly interjected, drawing my attention to herself instead. Likewise, whenever Hermione began speaking, Ginny quickly tried to distract me...
The intense back-and-forth continued throughout the entire meal, leaving me stuck awkwardly in the middle, though admittedly enjoying the attention.
By the time we'd all finished eating, Molly began gathering the empty dishes, gently ushering Fred, George, and Ginny upstairs. She explained that their father would be arriving shortly, and they'd soon need to leave for the nearby portkey.
After we finished eating all the delicious food, Hermione and I went outside to take a little walk. It felt good to move around a bit after being so stuffed. As we walked side by side, I playfully leaned over so our shoulders bumped gently. Hermione smiled shyly and glanced at me, her cheeks turning a soft pink.
"You were getting pretty possessive back there, weren't you?" I teased her lightly.
Her blush grew even deeper, and she looked down at her feet. "Sorry, Harry," she murmured softly. "I didn't mean to overstep. I just got a little… jealous, I guess."
I looked at her, confused. "Jealous about what?"
She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip nervously before speaking again. "Did you want to spend more time with Ginny Weasley instead of me…? I noticed you seemed to like her right away, and she is really pretty. Guys usually like girls with red hair, right? And I know she is a natural redhead too…"
Nice. Natural redheads were very sexy...
Her voice was quiet, and I could tell she was feeling unsure about herself. I stopped walking right then and reached out to gently take her arm. Hermione let out a little surprised squeak as I pulled her close to me, turning her so we were facing each other.
"Listen to me, Hermione," I said seriously, holding her gaze firmly. "Ginny is nice, sure, but she's not prettier than you. Don't ever put yourself down like that."
Hermione's eyes widened, looking both surprised and pleased by what I said. "You mean that?" she whispered, still sounding unsure.
"Yes, I really mean it," I insisted gently, giving her a sincere smile. "You are absolutely beautiful. Your hair is gorgeous, so long and curly and perfect. And your body is amazing, Hermione. You have a wonderful shape, with curves that are just right. Your breasts, your thighs—everything is perfectly proportioned. You should never doubt yourself."
As I finished speaking, Hermione started sputtering in embarrassment, her cheeks glowing bright red. "Harry!" she exclaimed softly, her voice shaking slightly. "You can't just say things like that!
"Why not?" I teased.
She looked away from me, nervously tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear. "It's very crass... and If you keep giving me compliments like that, it's going to be really hard to just stay friends." she added shyly.
"Maybe I don't just want to be just friends," I admitted softly, feeling a rush of heat rising up my neck and into my face as I watched Hermione's expression shift into surprise.
Her eyes widened slightly, and her lips parted as if she wanted to speak but hesitated momentarily. "Really?" she finally asked, sounding both hopeful and skeptical at the same time. She took a small step back, folding her arms gently as she studied my face. "Aren't you meeting up with those two beautiful French girls in a few hours? I was under the impression you'd be shagging them, Harry. At least that's the impression you gave me..."
I swallowed nervously, a bit embarrassed by her blunt phrasing.
"Well," I began uncertainly, glancing away momentarily before returning my gaze to hers, "I guess it did kind of come off like that, didn't it? Honestly, Gabrielle's letters to me were really, um, sexy. I won't lie—they made it pretty clear she was interested in more than just friendship."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at me, a faint smirk playing at the edges of her lips despite herself. "So, I'm guessing Gabrielle's very...expressive in her letters, then?"
I chuckled nervously, feeling my cheeks burning even hotter. "Very expressive," I admitted with a sheepish grin. "Look, Hermione, I'm really sorry if this seems complicated or confusing. I've always gotten attention from girls, but all of this is so new to me. I genuinely don't know if I could ever pick just one girl. I mean there's you...and Gabrielle and Fleur. And also Sona... " I mumbled admittedly.
Hermione blinked, a look of mild surprise crossing her face. "Harry," she said slowly, her voice calm and deliberate, "why would you pick just one girl?"
"Huh?" I blurted out dumbly.
Hermione gave me a curious look, clearly amused by my surprise. "Harry," she said slowly, "the wizarding world isn't like the Muggle world. Polygamy is completely normal here. Actually, it's quite common. Fred and George Weasley are both openly dating Angelina Johnson, and nobody thinks twice about it."
My mouth fell open slightly in astonishment. I knew that having multiple partners was typical among devils, but hearing this was accepted in the magical community genuinely stunned me. I wondered briefly if my mother Serafall knew about this little cultural similarity.
Hermione took advantage of my stunned silence to step even closer, gently placing her hand against my chest---making my heart speed up instantly. Her eyes locked onto mine intently. "Harry," she asked quietly, her tone serious but hopeful, "do you like me?"
My brain momentarily short-circuited at her directness. I swallowed hard, feeling suddenly tongue-tied, but managed a nod. "Yes," I answered truthfully, my voice coming out quieter than intended. "Of course I like you, Hermione. You're incredibly pretty, and you're one of the smartest girls I've ever met. I still vividly remember the first time I saw you in Flourish and Blotts—you left quite an impression."
Hermione's eyes sparkled brightly at my admission, a genuine smile lighting up her entire face. Without another word, she rose onto her toes and pressed her lips softly yet confidently against mine.
A brief thought flashed in my head. This was the third woman to kiss me so far today...
My eyes closed automatically, my arms instinctively wrapping around her waist, pulling her body tightly against me.
Her lips were soft and inviting, and I could feel her warmth radiating through the thin fabric of her clothing. My hands slowly drifted lower, sliding down her back until they came to rest firmly on her perfectly shaped ass. Hermione let out a soft, startled squeak into my mouth before giggling softly, clearly pleased by my boldness.
Our kiss deepened, becoming more intense as our bodies pressed together even more closely. I was suddenly very aware of every curve of her body, her breasts flattened softly against my chest, and her thighs brushing enticingly against mine. Eventually, she slowly pulled back, her breath slightly shaky as she gazed up at me with a delighted expression.
"I've been waiting weeks to do that," she admitted softly, her cheeks flushed prettily and her eyes shining. She looked up at me through her eyelashes, a playful, slightly mischievous smile curving her lips. "Just so you know, after you're done shagging those French girls, I'll be right here, waiting for you."
The confident, teasing look Hermione was giving me sent excitement and nervousness surging through my body.
Hermione and I continued walking around the Weasley family's gardens—holding hands lewdly. Ok, holding hands normally and just chatting as we checked out the magical property. There were a lot of plants and bugs I didn't recognize. And I'm pretty sure those lawn gnomes were alive…
It was nice, and lasted around a half hour before Molly called us back, saying her husband was here and it was time for everyone to leave for the portkey that would take us to the World Cup.
– Upstairs –
Ron trudged heavily up the stairs and returned to his cluttered bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He ran a hand irritably through his messy orange hair, his thoughts fuzzy and swirling uncomfortably inside his head.
"Stupid fake Harry Potter wannabe," he muttered bitterly under his breath, kicking aside a pile of clothes scattered carelessly on the floor. "Thinks he can just stroll in here, impress everyone, and make a fool out of me?" But then, uncertainty crept into his mind, causing Ron to pause and scratch his head in confusion. "But Ginny seemed really convinced he was real... Could I actually be wrong?" he murmured aloud, brow furrowing deeply.
"Confundo!" a high-pitched, squeaky voice suddenly sounded from behind him.
Ron turned around sharply, his eyes going blank and unfocused as the spell took immediate effect. Peter stood there, Peter was always there when Ron was alone. He'd always been there as long as Ron could remember. He was Ron's best friend, even if he was not real and imaginary!
Peter raised his slender, grimy wand higher, a cruel, satisfied smile stretching across his thin lips. "That's not the real Harry Potter downstairs, Ron. He's a fake. And he's definitely not your friend. No one is your friend but ME."
Ron's gaze went completely glassy, his shoulders slumping in compliance as the spell erased all his doubts and hesitation. "Yes, you're right, Peter," Ron droned in agreement. "You're my only real friend."
Peter's smile widened, clearly pleased with Ron's response. He stepped closer, the tip of his wand glowing brighter with an eerie, unsettling light. "That's right, Ron. I'm always here for you," Peter cooed reassuringly, his voice soft and manipulative. "I've never let you down. You'll help me expose this imposter downstairs, won't you? You'll tear him down and make sure everyone sees he's nothing but a fraud! Help me hurt him...? He's obviously in cahoots with Sirius Black! I bet they're both searching for me right now!" Peter declared, with a crazy look in his eye.
Ron's previously dull expression twisted into sudden anger, his fists clenching tightly at his sides. An unnatural surge of blind rage flooded through him, making his pulse quicken and his breath come in rapid, furious pants. "Yes," he spat bitterly. "I'll help you, Peter. I won't let that fake Harry Potter trick my family! I won't let him hurt my best friend!"
Peter chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with twisted delight. "Excellent, Ron. I knew I could count on you." He stepped closer, his bony hand gripping Ron's shoulder tightly. "You'll follow my instructions exactly. No questions, no hesitation. Agreed?" Obviously he knew Ron couldn't say no. Years of mental conditioning made sure of that. Peter hadn't muddled with the minds of the rest of the Weasley family, but Ron was his obedient slave.
"Anything..." Ron replied immediately.
XXX
I actually like Ron as a character, but Pettigrew living with him for years was one of the creepiest things in the story that was kind of just glossed over…