Chapter 18 (~9000 words):
The night after the first task…
– Lucius –
Lucius Malfoy appeared with a sharp crack at the edge of a desolate, weed-infested path, feeling a cold dread twisting in his gut. The familiar burning on his forearm had summoned him. He could still feel the lingering throb of his Dark Mark, resonating with his master's impatience.
With a grimace, Lucius straightened his robes, gathered his barely existent dignity, and looked up at the decrepit structure before him.
The manor stood in decay. Windows were cracked or boarded, walls were stained by years of neglect, and ivy snaked wildly up crumbling stonework. Lucius curled his lip in disgust. A place fit only for Muggles and vermin—hardly an appropriate dwelling for the Dark Lord.
Movement at the edge of his vision made Lucius snap his wand up instantly. From the shadows stepped a wizard, disheveled and pale, wild hair hanging lankly around a gaunt face marked by madness.
Lucius' eyes widened, his breath catching in disbelief. "Barty?" Lucius whispered, gripping his wand tighter. "Barty Crouch Jr.? How in Merlin's name are you still alive?"
Barty sneered in reply and raised his own wand defensively. Lucius could feel the tension ripple between them, the air crackling with barely restrained hostility. Nearly two decades had passed since they'd last stood together as loyal servants beneath their master's banner.
Now Lucius could only stare at this twisted remnant, half-expecting an attack at any second. But it didn't come as Barty finally lowered his wand first.
"There's no time for your pointless small talk, Malfoy," Barty hissed sharply, glancing around the desolate yard as if expecting unseen enemies. "Our Lord grows impatient. He demands your presence—now."
Lucius narrowed his eyes but wisely lowered his wand as well. Lucius had no desire to test his luck. Barty seemed completely unstable and Lucius could sense the Dark Lord nearby.
"Lead the way, then," Lucius said coldly, trying to mask his apprehension with false arrogance.
Barty gave one last sneer before turning sharply and pushing open the creaking, heavy door to Riddle Manor. Lucius followed cautiously, every muscle tensed as he stepped into the shadowy gloom within. The air was thick and oppressive, smelling faintly of dust and decay. The door slammed shut behind him. Barty led him deeper into the manor, neither speaking another word.
Lucius forced himself to keep walking, steadying his breathing, preparing himself mentally for whatever awaited him in the darkness ahead.
What the fuck is that thing…?
Lucius froze, disbelief and revulsion washing over him as he took in the grotesque sight before him.
The figure within the crib was small, twisted, and pale—an abomination, barely recognizable as human. Sickly grey skin clung loosely to fragile bones, blue veins webbing grotesquely beneath. A bald, misshapen head, sunken crimson eyes blazing with malevolent intensity—this was what remained of the Dark Lord. A monstrous entity inhabiting the frail, grotesque body of a baby.
How had it come to this? How had the proud and terrifying Dark Lord been reduced to such a pitiful state?
The malformed creature noticed Lucius's reaction immediately. "You dare?" The shrill voice pierced the silence, high-pitched yet dripping venom. "You dare to mock me, Lucius?"
"No, my Lord, I—" Lucius began desperately, heart hammering as he felt a stab of genuine fear.
"Crucio!" Voldemort shrieked, thrusting forward a thin wand clutched in tiny, bony fingers.
Agony exploded through Lucius's body. He collapsed instantly, writhing violently upon the filthy floor as white-hot knives of torment lanced through every nerve. His scream filled the room, raw and uncontrolled, his spine arching, limbs spasming uncontrollably!
"Do not look down on me, Lucius!" Voldemort screeched, his voice echoing with rage and madness. The grotesque childlike form stood in the crib, wobbling slightly, yet somehow radiating undeniable menace. "I am Lord Voldemort! Your master! Your superior! You will remember your place!"
The pain seemed endless, the curse shredding Lucius's mind and body with ruthless precision. Desperation clawed through him, overriding pride and dignity, tearing from his throat in broken gasps. "Forgive...me...please...my Lord! Mercy!" he begged over and over!
At last, the curse lifted.
Lucius lay trembling, gasping desperately for air, his dignity shattered. Slowly, painfully, he rolled onto his side and pushed himself to his knees, head bowed low in submission.
Babymort stared down at him in disdain. "You are fortunate, Lucius. I grant you mercy only because I have use for you."
Lucius's voice shook as he struggled to speak. "T-thank you, my Lord. Your mercy...is boundless. I am yours to command. Anything...I will do anything you require."
"Yes," he hissed softly, his thin lips curling into a cruel smile. "You certainly will, Lucius. Remember this lesson well. Your loyalty is mine alone—and next time, I may not feel so generous." Babymort leaned forward in the crib, gripping its wooden rails with pale, skeletal fingers, eyes burning with an unhinged malevolence. The grotesque parody of a child fixed Lucius with a predatory glare and sneered cruelly. "Look upon me, Lucius," the Dark Lord hissed, his distorted infantile voice dripping venom. "Look upon my glory. See what I have been reduced to, with none of my so-called loyal servants coming to my aid for almost 20 years!"
Lucius swallowed hard and dropped obediently to one knee, feeling his pride crack yet again beneath this fresh humiliation. "My Lord," Lucius said hoarsely, struggling to keep his voice even. "Had I known—even a whisper—that you survived, I would have sought you out immediately. I have been a fool, my Lord, I—"
"Oh, cut the shit," Babymort snapped impatiently, his shrill voice cracking sharply through the damp air. "Spare me your pathetic lies, Lucius. I know very well that you didn't care whether I lived or rotted away. All you ever cared about was your precious position, your wealth, your comfortable little life."
Lucius opened his mouth to protest, but one sharp glance from the grotesque infant silenced him immediately. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Barty Crouch Jr. smirking with undisguised satisfaction at his discomfort. Lucius's jaw tightened.
Babymort had a faint sneer twisting his tiny features as he observed Lucius's submission. "But, as disappointing as you are, Lucius, I still have tasks for you."
Lucius straightened slightly. "I am yours to command, as always, my Lord," he murmured with forced reverence, trying to disguise the tremor of fear in his voice.
"Oh, I'm certain you are," Babymort replied with dark amusement. "Your continued survival depends entirely on it." A tense silence stretched between them before Babymort continued, voice turning sharper and more commanding. "I require you to devise a method of smuggling our friend, Barty Jr, into Hogwarts. You will make this possible despite the increased security measures put in place by that fool Dumbledore. It will not be easy, especially after some fool cast an unforgivable on that Durmstrang boy and made them increase security even more!"
Lucius's mind raced, calculating the implications. He was a member of the Hogwarts board, he should be able to sneak someone in. But why? What did they want? He glanced briefly at Barty, noting the fanatical eagerness burning in the man's eyes. Whatever madness the Dark Lord was planning, Barty was clearly eager to be part of it. Lucius knew better than to voice the question lingering in his mind—what exactly would Crouch do within Hogwarts?
Babymort must have seen the uncertainty in Lucius's expression. "You wonder why I need him inside the castle?" Babymort sneered softly. "Fortunately for you, Lucius, I'm in a generous mood today. I shall enlighten you." Babymort's voice grew colder, seething with barely restrained hatred. "Barty will infiltrate the Hogwarts staff using Polyjuice Potion, impersonating one of the professors. Once inside, he will get close to that wretched brat—Harry Sitri, the so-called Boy Who Lived." Babymort spat the name as if it burned his tongue, eyes blazing with a furious madness. "I have need of that boy alive—for now…" Even in his diminished, pitiful state, the Dark Lord's hatred radiated from him.
"Yes, my Lord," Lucius said quietly, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "It shall be done precisely as you wish."
"I have need of something else," the Dark Lord continued. "Over 20 years ago, I entrusted you with a dark artifact. A black book. I have need of it back. It would greatly aid in the restoration of my powers and my diminished form…"
Lucius's heart stopped for a brief, dreadful moment. The mention of the Dark Lord's 'diary' sent a cold surge of panic racing through him, draining the color from his face.
Instantly, he dropped back to his knees, nearly groveling before the grotesque creature in the crib. "My Lord," Lucius rasped urgently, his voice trembling with desperation. "Please—I beg your forgiveness! I no longer have the diary. The Ministry has been relentless lately. They've launched raids—unexpected searches for dark artifacts and Sirius Black! Many of my associates have already been targeted. It was simply too dangerous to keep it in Malfoy Manor. I would have been sent to Azkaban had they found such a powerful dark object in my home!"
The Dark Lord narrowed his crimson eyes. "Then where, Lucius," he hissed venomously, "is my diary?"
Lucius swallowed thickly, mouth dry with dread. "I… entrusted it to my son, Draco. I instructed him to smuggle it into Hogwarts at the beginning of term. It is safely within the castle walls as we speak." His voice cracked slightly as he spoke Draco's name.
What he didn't say was that he entrusted Draco to give the object to someone else to cause chaos! The Dark Lord might actually kill him if he admitted that a random student had his precious diary!
Babymort stared silently at Lucius, his small, twisted body perfectly still, radiating a bone-deep fury. The silence stretched, unbearably heavy and tense. Lucius remained perfectly still, his head bowed submissively, fully prepared to feel the unbearable torment of the Cruciatus Curse again at any moment.
Yet the expected curse never came.
Instead, Voldemort slowly turned his head, fixing those hateful crimson eyes upon Barty Crouch Jr.
Lucius almost sobbed in relief, his entire frame trembling from nerves and exhaustion.
"Barty," Voldemort hissed coldly, his shrill voice slicing sharply through the oppressive silence. "It seems your task has expanded, my loyal servant."
"Yes, my Lord. Command me, and I will obey without fail."
The Dark Lord's thin lips curled into a cruel smile, clearly pleased by Barty's instant obedience—especially compared to Lucius's panicked excuses. "Once you have infiltrated Hogwarts," Babymort instructed softly, eyes narrowing, "you will seek out my diary. Lucius's fool of a son has it in his possession. Retrieve it, and do not fail me."
Shit! Lucius needed to write to his son to get that diary back in his possession as soon as possible!
Barty's mouth twisted into a delighted smirk, and he cast a smug glance at Lucius. "Of course, my Lord. Unlike certain others," he sneered pointedly, "I would never disappoint you."
"See that you don't," Babymort replied coldly. His gaze shifted back to Lucius, contempt and disdain palpable in his crimson stare. "Watch carefully, Lucius. Perhaps you can learn something about true loyalty."
"Yes, my Lord," Lucius whispered hoarsely, eyes glued to the filthy floor.
He was still unaware that his son would be waking up the next morning with much worse problems…
– Harry –
A few days later…
I found myself once again in the Forbidden Forest after classes.
This particular clearing had become familiar—it was where Sona and I trained in magic—though today it felt distinctly crowded.
My mother, Serafall, stood a short distance away, watching intently. Beside her stood her stunningly beautiful blonde Queen, Behemoth, who observed everything with an elegant, quiet intensity.
Next to me, Sona gently grasped my hand. Her quiet presence was reassuring, steadying my nerves. Standing close behind Sona was her own Queen, Tsubaki.
All of us were focused on Hermione, who lay perfectly still on the soft grass in front of us. Her chest rose and fell gently, her features peaceful as though simply sleeping. But beneath the tranquility, powerful magic hummed through her.
I glanced over at my mother just as she nodded slightly. "The transformation is wrapping up now," she said.
Hermione suddenly shot upright with a sharp gasp, her eyes wide and startled as they met mine. A ripple of powerful demonic magic burst outward from her in all directions, washing over me in a warm, vibrant wave that left my skin tingling.
In that instant, Hermione Granger ceased to be mortal. She was now fully a devil, the very first member of my peerage—my Bishop.
Hermione's magical power surged dramatically, going from a modest, low-class level witch straight to an impressive upper-middle class devil.
But the changes were more than magical, they were physical, too. Hermione had always been very attractive, but now her beauty was simply breathtaking. Her skin became incredibly smooth, practically flawless, free from any blemishes she might've once had. Not that I thought she had many. Her lips had become slightly fuller, taking on a deeper, richer shade of red.
As my gaze drifted lower, I noticed that her body had subtly filled out as well. Her curves became more defined, her breasts fuller and shapelier beneath her robes. She was captivating.
Still sitting up, Hermione blinked slowly, taking in her surroundings as she caught her breath. Her eyes finally settled on mine, searching for reassurance.
I stepped forward slightly after letting go of Sona's hand. I dropped to one knee beside Hermione, reaching out instinctively to steady her.
"Hermione," I said softly, "you look beautiful."
She blushed at my words. "Thank you, Harry," she whispered, sounding genuinely touched. She hesitated, then reached toward my outstretched hand. "I'm feeling a bit dizzy…"
I gripped her hand firmly and guided her carefully to her feet. "You've just had a huge power increase. It'll take a moment to adjust."
She nodded gratefully, steadying herself against me for balance as she rose. I could feel the soft press of her body against my side.
"Congratulations on becoming a devil, Hermione," I said warmly, unable to stop myself from grinning broadly at her.
Serafall bounded over, nearly vibrating with excitement, grinning ear-to-ear. "Congrats, Hermione-chan!" She chirped, clapping her hands together cheerfully. "You've officially rejected your humanity! Best decision ever!"
Beside us, Sona sighed audibly, shaking her head slightly in mild exasperation.
I glanced back at my mother with an eyebrow raised suspiciously. I had a weird feeling she'd just made another obscure anime reference.
Hermione held out her hand. With almost effortless ease, a vibrant fireball blossomed into existence above her palm, bathing Hermione's awed face in flickering shades of amber and gold.
"Wow," she breathed, turning her hand slightly to watch the flames shift and swirl in response. Her face lit up in amazement, and she giggled softly. "Imagination-based magic is such a cheat!"
I chuckled softly, stepping closer and admiring the mesmerizing flames hovering effortlessly above her fingers. "Yeah, it definitely is," I said, placing an affectionate kiss gently on her flushed cheek. "You're going to have a lot of fun from now on."
She turned toward me with a playful grin, eyes sparkling with curiosity and excitement. "Does this mean I'll finally be amazing at Potions now, too?" she teased.
"Not quite as good as Harry and myself," Sona said calmly, approaching us with a faint smile. "But you will certainly improve considerably. You're part of the Sitri clan now, after all. Our natural affinity with water makes most potions effortless."
Hermione smiled broadly at Sona's words, clearly pleased at the prospect. Before I could add anything else—
"YAY! I'M SO PROUD MY SON GOT HIS FIRST PEERAGE MEMBER!" Serafall declared gleefully, practically sprinting toward us. Hermione and I barely had time to exchange startled glances before my mother wrapped both arms around us, pulling us tightly into her embrace.
My face was instantly engulfed, pressed firmly against Serafall's ridiculously ample chest. Hermione squeaked in surprise, her voice muffled as she too became trapped in the embrace, struggling helplessly for air. The softness enveloping us was admittedly pleasant, but I genuinely couldn't breathe.
"M-Mom," I tried to protest weakly, voice smothered completely by the plush warmth, "you're—you're suffocating us!"
But Serafall paid no heed to my muffled pleas, merely tightening her embrace further. "This is such a happy moment!" she exclaimed joyfully, practically bouncing on her feet and inadvertently crushing Hermione and me further against her. "I can't contain my excitement! My Harry finally has a peerage member of his own!"
"Sis!" Sona complained sharply, grabbing hold of my arm and attempting to tug me free. "Let them go already! You're smothering them!"
I heard soft laughter from Tsubaki and Behemoth nearby, clearly amused by our predicament.
"Sorry, sorry!" Serafall laughed as she patted us on our backs reassuringly. "I just got a little excited, that's all."
Hermione shook her head, looking exasperated yet also amused. "It's alright," she said breathlessly, glancing at me with a half-smile. "I suppose I'll need to get used to moments like these now."
"You'll have to get used to a lot more than just hugs," Serafall said with a teasing grin aimed directly at Hermione.
My mother's gaze was shameless as she openly admired Hermione's newly enhanced figure. Hermione's cheeks flushed deeply as Serafall's eyes lingered, her smile slowly shifting from playful to blatantly lustful. I could feel Hermione shift nervously beside me, but her eyes showed curiosity rather than embarrassment.
Serafall stepped closer to me, pressing gently against my side. She leaned in and planted a lingering kiss on my cheek, her soft lips brushing warmly against my skin.
"We," Serafall whispered to me, loud enough that Hermione could easily hear, "are all going to have a lot of fun together very soon."
Hermione's eyes widened sharply, but she didn't protest. Instead, she gave me an inquisitive look, her lips parting slightly, her breathing becoming shallower. Clearly, the idea intrigued her far more than it upset her. That was her new nature as a devil already kicking in.
Sona made a sudden, sharp squeak of annoyance. "Sis!" she hissed, pointing a stern finger at Serafall. "Control yourself!"
Serafall merely giggled mischievously and gave a playful shrug. Before she could say anything else, Sona flicked her wrist sharply and sent a sizable jet of icy water toward her sister, clearly intending to cool her down.
"Ah!" Serafall yelped in surprise as the cold water splashed over her robes. Her clothing instantly clung to her body, becoming transparent enough to outline every generous curve. Rather than being upset, Serafall broke into delighted laughter.
"Oh, So-tan!" Serafall called cheerfully, looking down appreciatively at her own soaked form. "Are you starting a wet t-shirt fight with me? Yay!"
Instead of retaliation, Serafall threw her arms into the air and conjured an enormous orb of water, easily three times larger than Sona's original spell. Hermione and I both stumbled backward instinctively, eyes widening as the shimmering mass hovered threateningly above us.
"Mum!" I protested quickly, holding up a defensive hand. "Wait a sec—!"
Sona paled slightly, quickly preparing another spell for protection. "Sis, don't you dare—!"
Too late.
With a mischievous, joyous laugh, Serafall released her spell, sending a tidal wave of crystal-clear water crashing down over all of us.
Drying off was effortless for a devil. A simple snap of the fingers and our clothes returned to pristine condition instantly. The spontaneous water fight had no real repercussions, but it was certainly entertaining.
If anything, it provided Hermione with a fantastic opportunity to experiment with her new imagination-based devil magic. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she eagerly summoned swirling spheres of water, launching them playfully at us all.
She laughed freely, exhilarated by the newfound ease of spellcasting.
We paused briefly so my mother could perform one more important ritual. Serafall took Hermione's hand gently, giving her a reassuring smile. "Now, Hermione-chan, this might tickle a bit," she teased.
Hermione watched intently as Serafall lightly traced a finger over the back of her hand. A faint magical glow followed the movement until it shaped into the intricate, elegant form of the Sitri family crest. Hermione gasped softly as the magic settled into her skin, leaving behind a delicate tattoo shimmering with latent power.
"There!" Serafall exclaimed cheerfully. "This crest links you fully to our magic circle, Hermione. You'll find using your powers much easier now."
Hermione examined her hand with quiet awe. "It feels incredible," she said, smiling brightly. "Thank you, Lady Serafall."
"Please, just call me Levi-tan!" my mother laughed lightly. "Or mommy in the bedroom!" she added with a playful wink.
Hermione's cheeks turned bright pink. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and shot me a shy glance instead. I chuckled softly, enjoying her cute embarrassment.
Our brief break didn't last long. Serafall suddenly turned, conjuring another giant globe of water in mid-air. Her eyes danced mischievously as she aimed at her usually composed Queen. "Oh, Behe-chan! You're far too dry over there!"
Serafall unleashed the watery projectile directly at the unsuspecting blonde devil. Behemoth had barely enough time to widen her eyes before the icy water crashed against her face and chest. Her wet shirt immediately turned transparent, clinging tightly to her voluptuous figure and revealing a lacy black bra beneath.
For a brief instant, shock flashed across Behemoth's normally unflappable features. A faint blush appeared on her pale cheeks as she glanced downward at her exposed state. She immediately crossed her arms over her ample chest, glaring sharply at Serafall.
"My Lady," Behemoth said, her tone dangerously calm, "I would suggest running."
Serafall's laughter stopped abruptly. She raised her hands in surrender, backing away slowly. "N-now, Behe-chan, it was just a little joke—"
Behemoth narrowed her eyes and thrust her arm forward, summoning dozens of shimmering blades made entirely of crystal-clear water. Each blade hovered menacingly, aimed straight at my mother. I stepped quickly away, instinctively pulling Hermione with me. Sona and Tsubaki did the same, all of us giving the suddenly very intimidating Queen plenty of room.
"Wait—Behe, let's talk about this!" Serafall yelped nervously, waving her arms frantically.
"Too late," Behemoth replied flatly.
With a flick of her wrist, the water blades shot forward in a deadly, precise barrage. Serafall squealed in surprise, dodging left and right, narrowly avoiding each attack. She was fast, but Behemoth was faster. Each blade exploded upon impact, soaking my mother completely until she was gasping and sputtering.
Hermione watched wide-eyed, whispering softly, "Harry... remind me never to upset Behemoth."
I nodded quickly, eyes glued to the fearsome Queen as she continued her ruthless assault. "Trust me," I replied, "I'm thinking the exact same thing." Sometimes, I forgot that she was an ancient primordial entity—one that was roaming the underworld before devils even came to exist. How the hell did my mum even manage to become friends with her?
…A few hours later, after all the fun.
Everyone else had already gone back ahead of us. Sona took Hermione and Tsubaki to the castle for a quick shower before dinner. Behemoth returned to the Underworld to handle some urgent paperwork. Now it was just my mother and me left alone in the quiet of the Forbidden Forest.
Serafall stood silently beside me. Her soft hand gently held mine as she stared thoughtfully at the full moon. Her thumb brushed over my knuckles in a slow comforting rhythm.
I felt the warmth of her fingers against mine. The cool night breeze stirred her dark hair around her face. She looked beautiful standing under the moonlight with her eyes filled with curiosity.
"This place gets a lot spookier at night," she said softly. Her gaze shifted to the shadows dancing between the trees. "It's far more exciting now."
I chuckled lightly and squeezed her hand. "Exciting is one way to put it. You know this forest has giant man-eating spiders?"
Serafall glanced at me with playful disbelief. "Really? That sounds incredible!"
I raised an eyebrow at her enthusiasm. "There's also a tribe of very territorial centaurs. They don't really like us devils. Sona fed one of them to the giant spiders…"
"Hehe, So-tan is the best!" She stepped closer. Her body pressed gently against my side. "And anything else I should be worried about?" she teased lightly.
I nodded with a slight shudder. "Tonight's a full moon. So there might even be a werewolf or two running around somewhere."
Serafall looked up curiously at me. Her bright eyes sparkled in excitement. "Werewolves too? Hogwarts just keeps getting better! Schools in the underworld could really learn from this place! They're all so stuffy and boring!"
Wasn't Professor Lupin a werewolf? Technically, that was supposed to be a secret, and I wasn't supposed to know. But as a devil, my senses had pretty much instantly picked up on the inhuman nature of one of my favorite teachers. Not that I minded, of course. If Lupin had been younger and closer to my age, I might have even considered offering him a spot in my peerage. Who wouldn't want a badass werewolf? Although it didn't seem like Lupin embraced his gift very much. I shook my head and refocused on Serafall, smiling at me.
Serafall leaned into me even more. She reached up and placed a gentle hand on my cheek turning my face toward hers. Serafall's brilliant blue eyes stared directly into mine as her cheeks slowly turned a warm shade of pink. Her fingers softly traced my cheek as she studied my expression closely.
"Harry," she whispered softly. "I'm so happy you came into my life. Finding out you existed changed everything for me."
My heartbeat sped up at the sincerity in her voice. I couldn't tear my gaze away from her eyes shining brightly in the moonlight.
"You really feel that way?" I asked softly.
"Of course," she murmured. "My whole family has become happier since we found you. You've even helped me reconnect with So-tan in a way I never imagined possible."
Her voice trembled slightly at the mention of Sona. Something in the way she spoke made me wonder. Why exactly had Sona drifted away from Serafall in the first place? Was it really just embarrassment from Serafall's overenthusiastic behavior? Or was something deeper?
Part of me wanted to ask but now didn't seem like the right time.
Not when Serafall was gazing at me so intently beneath the glow of the full moon. Instead I stayed quiet and enjoyed the closeness we shared in that moment.
Serafall slowly leaned closer her eyes fluttering closed as her lips brushed softly against mine. The kiss was gentle at first, full of tenderness.
And then she wrapped her arms tightly around my back, pulling herself flush against me. I felt the softness of her breasts pressing firmly against my chest. I slid my own arms around her slim waist holding her firmly in place.
Was it because I was a devil? Or perhaps it was the Sitri blood coursing through my veins that I never found this to be wrong? Either way I couldn't resist Serafall especially not when she held me like this.
Our kiss deepened further, becoming heated and sensual beneath the watchful glow of the moon. Her lips moved sensually against mine teasing, exploring, savoring every moment.
Eventually she broke the kiss, pulling back slowly with a delighted giggle. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she ran her tongue lightly across her lips.
"Mmm," she purred happily, smiling up at me. "That was very nice Harry. Very nice indeed."
I chuckled softly feeling slightly breathless. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"Oh I certainly did," she whispered, leaning up to briefly nip playfully at my lower lip. "In fact we should do this far more often.She paused for a second. "...If you're okay with that…" Serafall murmured softly, her voice unexpectedly hesitant. Her gaze drifted downward, breaking our eye contact for just a second. Her fingers tightened nervously against my robes. "I know we've never really talked about… THIS," she continued, looking back up at me uncertainly.
I raised an eyebrow, smiling faintly as I brushed my thumb gently across her flushed cheek. "Is there anything we really need to talk about?" I asked honestly.
Serafall's expression shifted immediately, relief and joy brightening her features. She shook her head. "You're right," she whispered, her lips curving into a warm, playful smile. "Talking is dumb. Actions speak way louder than words!"
Without another moment of hesitation, she stood up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine once more. This time her kiss was different—it burned fiercely with open passion. Her mouth was warm and eager against mine as she deepened the kiss hungrily. Her tongue lightly traced my lower lip, coaxing me to respond.
I groaned softly, immediately sliding my hands down her slender back and gripping her hips, pulling her firmly against me. She melted easily into my embrace, molding her body tightly to mine. Her softness pressed deliciously against my chest as she wrapped her arms around my neck, drawing me closer and deepening our kiss even further.
I felt her heart racing in time with mine, our breathing growing heavier as the kiss became more intense. Serafall's gentle fingers threaded into my hair, tugging softly, pulling me even tighter against her. Her body trembled slightly in my arms, not from nerves this time—but from excitement and barely controlled desire.
After a long, heated moment, Serafall finally pulled back just enough to look up into my eyes again. Her lips were swollen from our kiss, her breath coming out in soft pants. The smile she gave me was equal parts mischievous and affectionate.
"Mmm," she purred contentedly, brushing her thumb along my jawline. "Yes, much better than talking."
I laughed softly, my own breathing still a bit ragged. "I have to agree completely."
"Grrrrrrr…"
Mum and I turned around at the low, threatening growl echoing through the forest clearing behind us.
A hulking figure staggered slowly out of the darkened tree line. Its matted, shaggy fur stood upright, marred by numerous vicious-looking scars. Yellow, feral eyes glowed fiercely beneath the pale moonlight as drool dripped steadily from a mouth filled with jagged, razor-sharp fangs.
The massive werewolf snarled deeply, its gaze locked onto the two of us. It stared as if deciding which of us would be tastier.
Damn, that was one ugly doggo…
"Oh my goodness!" Serafall squealed suddenly beside me. "Aww, aren't you just the cutest little puppy ever!"
I shot her an incredulous glance before expanding my devilish senses carefully. Something about the beast felt familiar, despite its current deranged state.
I focused harder and recognition dawned on me almost instantly. "Professor Lupin?" I asked out loud.
Instead of responding, the werewolf snarled louder, baring its fangs aggressively. It obviously didn't recognize me or care who I was. I thought werewolves, especially Lupin working at Hogwarts, had some kind of special Wolfsbane Potion regimen. That potion was supposed to let him keep his sanity under the full moon.
Either Professor Lupin forgot to take it, or the potion was brewed badly. Probably the latter—because he usually struck me as a pretty stand-up guy. But right now, Lupin's humanity was nowhere to be found. He looked completely feral.
"GRAAWRRR!" Lupin howled suddenly, rearing up on powerful hind legs. With astonishing speed, he bolted towards us in a blur of muscle and fur.
I tensed up, instinctively reaching for my own magic, but before I could even blink, my mum stepped in front of me.
She stood there calmly, a gentle smile still playing across her lips. Why should she worry? She was Serafall fucking Leviathan…
The werewolf lunged at her, leaping easily twenty feet through the air, claws outstretched and fangs aimed straight for her slender neck. A fierce snarl echoed from his throat as he descended on her rapidly.
Without any apparent effort, Serafall calmly raised her right hand and caught Lupin by the throat mid-air. Her grip was gentle yet completely immovable, halting the beast instantly.
Lupin struggled violently, snarling and thrashing in her grasp. He swiped repeatedly with huge claws, desperately trying to tear into her, but each strike harmlessly slid off her skin and clothing as though he were attacking solid diamond. His claws were literally chipping trying to break her impenetrable skin.
"Bad doggy!" Serafall scolded lightly, shaking her head disapprovingly. "That is not how we behave!"
Mum pulled out a small plastic spray bottle filled with water—where on earth had she hidden that?
She squirted Lupin right in his snarling face.
"Bad doggy! No bite!" she chided playfully, continuing to spray the now utterly baffled werewolf. Lupin flinched away, blinking rapidly, and growled angrily but seemed more confused every time she quirted him.
"Mum…really?" I asked incredulously, staring at the hilarious scene unfolding in front of me.
"What?" She looked over her shoulder at me, feigning innocence while continuing to discipline my werewolf teacher.
– Pettegrew –
Hidden among the tangled roots and dense shadows of the Forbidden Forest, a small rat watched the unbelievable scene unfold before its beady, furious eyes. It squeaked irritably, its tiny whiskers quivering in frustration.
'What the fuck is this nonsense?' Peter Pettigrew thought angrily, his rat form trembling slightly from suppressed rage. 'This is complete bullshit! How hard can it possibly be to kill Harry fucking Sitri?'
He'd already watched Viktor Krum fail spectacularly—somehow the damned boy-who-lived had survived the Killing Curse a second time! That alone convinced Peter that Harry Sitri must possess some absurd magical resistance. Pettigrew scurried slightly to the side, repositioning himself for a clearer view, his small claws scratching nervously at the dirt beneath him.
If magic wasn't going to do the trick, then clearly he needed a different approach. A physical one.
Which is precisely why tonight should have been foolproof!
Peter's newest slave, the obedient and easily manipulated Dean Thomas, had done exactly as ordered. He'd snuck into Professor Lupin's office earlier in the day and replaced the Wolfsbane potion with a worthless placebo, ensuring the werewolf professor would lose all semblance of his human mind when the full moon rose.
To seal the deal, Peter had even left an anonymous note on Lupin's desk—scribbled hastily but convincingly: Harry Sitri in danger, Forbidden Forest, hurry!
Just as expected, Lupin had run off heroically to save Lily Evans's precious son.
Everything should've gone perfectly, dammit.
Yet now, instead of being torn apart, Harry stood perfectly safe, shielded by the ridiculously powerful woman. Pettigrew's heart skipped anxiously as he watched her handle the raging werewolf as if it were a harmless puppy. The ease with which she caught and held the snarling beast by its throat was utterly terrifying—and admittedly arousing.
He'd never seen anyone—witch or wizard—manhandle a fully transformed werewolf so effortlessly. No one except the dark lord himself!
Pettigrew felt a sudden chill of paranoia twist his stomach.
Was this woman working with Sirius Black too? he thought frantically. Yes, that must've been it! She had to be Sirius's lover or something, coming to Hogwarts specifically to hunt him down!
'Well, fuck that.' Peter wasn't about to let those bastards corner him again! He'd kill every last one of them if he had to!
But suddenly, a horribly familiar sound reached his sensitive ears.
"WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!"
BARKING—echoed through the forest from the direction of Hagrid's hut.
Pettigrew froze, feeling pure terror surge through his tiny body. Sirius. That mangy mutt had found them and was closing in fast!
'Fuck!' Pettigrew mentally cursed. Immediately, he turned and bolted through the undergrowth, tiny paws scrambling desperately across the dirt. Survival was the only thing that mattered now, he had to scurry away before Sirius Black sniffed him out.
He'd have his revenge later—somehow. For now, he just needed to escape with his life!
– Serafall –
The snarling wolf continued struggling ferociously in Serafall's delicate-looking grip, its muscles bulging with the sheer effort of escape.
Serafall watched calmly, a bright, amused smile never leaving her lips. She found the creature utterly adorable despite its aggressive intentions. After about a minute of fruitless thrashing, the werewolf's snarls softened into frustrated growls, eventually giving way to a pitiful whimpering whine as its resistance drained completely.
"Haha, victory is mine!" Serafall cheered gleefully, her blue eyes sparkling triumphantly. Gently, she released her hold on the werewolf, letting the large creature slump unceremoniously to the forest floor with a defeated grunt.
The wolf lay there, panting quietly, its tail curled submissively between its legs. Serafall crouched down beside it and began gently patting its head, scratching lightly behind its tattered ears. "That's a good boy," she cooed warmly, watching as its tense posture gradually relaxed under her affectionate touch.
With a quick snap of her fingers, Serafall reached into her magical pocket dimension and cheerfully pulled out a massive, raw dragon steak! She waved it enticingly in front of the werewolf's snout. Immediately, the creature's eyes widened hungrily, and its ears perked up with renewed excitement.
"Here you go, sweetie!" Serafall said, giggling softly as she fed the steak to the werewolf, who eagerly tore into it with enthusiastic bites. Its once-threatening tail now wagged happily in the dirt, spraying little flecks of leaves and twigs in every direction.
Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, giving her a deadpan look. "Mum...why exactly do you randomly have raw dragon steaks on you?"
"For situations exactly like this, silly!" Serafall replied with a playful wink.
However, before she could tease Harry any further, Serafall tilted her head thoughtfully. She sensed the subtle magical presence of the wizard who had been hiding in the shadows. Now that wizard was clearly trying to make a quick escape, scurrying away through the thick underbrush. Serafall narrowed her eyes slightly, wondering if this fleeing wizard was responsible for the sudden werewolf attack?
She began lifting her hand, intending to telekinetically seize and bring back the escaping spy, when suddenly another presence approached quickly through the trees. Her attention instantly shifted as a large black dog burst into the clearing, barking urgently and looking around with unmistakable worry and surprise.
"Oh my! Aren't you another adorable puppy?" Serafall squealed happily, instantly distracted.
The dog glanced between her, Harry, and the steak-munching werewolf, eyes wide and filled with distinctly human emotions. Like surprise and confusion at the same time!
Serafall didn't need more than a second to understand why—this was clearly no ordinary dog. It was another wizard transformed into animal form! Obviously, these types of wizards were a lot less rare than she was led to believe. She wondered if Harry could turn into an adorable animal as well since he was a half devil?
"And who might you be, cutie?" Serafall asked cheerfully, crouching down again to ruffle the big black dog's soft fur affectionately, scratching right between his ears.
"Mum, that's a stray dog that Professor Hagrid rescued recently. He's harmless."
Serafall laughed softly, giving Harry a knowing glance. "Hmm, a stray, huh?" she repeated playfully, raising a teasing eyebrow at her son.
She gently scratched under the dog's chin, causing the creature to wag his tail hesitantly despite its lingering caution. Serafall sighed internally, amused at how easily Harry had accepted such an obvious cover. Clearly, she thought with mild exasperation, she would soon need to give her dear son a thorough lesson in distinguishing the magical auras between animals and humans.
But for now, she was able to sense that this dog-man had come to them to help. He was obviously a "good boy" unlike that other wizard, so she would keep his secret for now. Actually, now that she thinks about it, didn't she already get a report about this dog from Lyra and Lyna a couple days ago?
Ugh, all that endless paperwork always seems to blend together…
And now she was going to have to go back to the underworld to play catch-up on the few hours she missed already. Behe-chan was a slave driver…
– Narcissa –
What the hell had happened to her son?
She stepped through the doors of Hogwarts' infirmary alongside Lucius. Draco had been ignoring her husband's letters for days. They wanted to know why.
She immediately spotted her son propped up against several pillows on a bed near the back, looking pale, miserable, and—strangely small. Her heart skipped painfully at the sight.
"Draco!" she called sharply, striding rapidly toward him, Lucius following close behind.
Draco visibly winced at the sound of her voice, quickly pulling the blankets higher over himself. He squirmed uncomfortably, his normally proud expression replaced by something she never thought she'd see on her son's face—pure shame.
"M-Mother?" Draco squeaked, voice higher pitched and thinner than she had ever heard it. Why did he sound like that? Her eyes narrowed slightly as confusion and concern washed over her.
"Why have you not been answering MY letters, Draco?" Lucius demanded coldly, towering over their son with barely restrained impatience. "We were forced to come all the way here to see what nonsense has been occupying your time!"
Draco's eyes darted nervously from Lucius to her, something was terribly wrong.
"Draco," she said, softening my voice gently as I stepped closer to him, reaching out to touch his hand. "Tell us what happened. Are you ill?"
Draco flinched at her touch and avoided her gaze, mumbling something too low for her to understand. She leaned in closer, gripping his chin firmly and tilting his face upward, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Speak clearly, Draco."
"There… there was an accident, Mother," he whispered, voice barely audible. "A magical accident."
"An accident?" Lucius repeated, tone darkening dangerously.
Draco cringed deeper into his pillows, embarrassment clearly overwhelming him.
"Madam Pomfrey?" Narcissa snapped impatiently, glancing sharply over my shoulder at the healer. The woman approached us slowly, discomfort clearly etched across her stern face.
"Perhaps we should discuss this privately—" Pomfrey began cautiously.
"No, Explain to me right now precisely what has happened to my son!"
Pomfrey sighed, giving Draco an apologetic look before squaring her shoulders. "Young Mister Malfoy was injured several days ago. He has suffered severe magical frostbite in an... extremely delicate area. The ice spell responsible had traces of a mild curse, and it's caused significant tissue necrosis."
"What exactly are you saying?" Narcissa hissed.
"Despite our best efforts, we haven't yet been able to regenerate his… male anatomy. The curse is actively resisting typical healing spells."
For several horrible seconds, a deafening silence filled the infirmary.
"You mean to tell me," Narcissa whispered through clenched teeth, "that my son has lost his—"
"Yes," Pomfrey said quickly, her face reddening. "Currently, Draco has lost his penis and testicles. We're trying our best to reverse the damage, but—"
"Draco," Lucius spat sharply, his tone chillingly contemptuous. "How did you allow something like this to happen? How could you hide such a disgrace from us?"
"...I'll give you all some personal space," Pomprey said and closed the curtain. A silencing spell went up around them.
And then Draco began to explain…
This—This young man… Was he even her son anymore? Or a mini-death eater!?
Her heart thundering painfully in her chest as she listened.
Draco spoke, his expression shockingly eager, disturbingly proud. "You see, Father," Draco said with chilling enthusiasm, leaning forward with a glint of malicious pride in his eyes, "I was doing exactly what we planned in our letters! That Sitri girl—Sona—she was supposed to be mine! I was planning to break her spirit completely by assaulting her. Force her to submit to me—make sure that proud bitch learned her proper place. Then, her family's fortune and power would belong entirely to House Malfoy."
Lucius nodded slowly, a pleased and sinister smile stretching thin across his pale face. "Exactly as you should, Draco," he said approvingly, utterly devoid of any hint of shame or remorse. "You must never forget that our family's greatness depends on your willingness to seize power by any means necessary…"
Narcissa stared open-mouthed, feeling bile rise bitterly in her throat. Her eyes darted between Lucius and Draco, her mind screaming in disbelief at the obscene, monstrous conversation unfolding before her.
Had she truly heard correctly? Could these hateful, vile words actually be coming from her own son's lips? Her sweet, beloved Draco?
Draco leaned back, his chest puffing with arrogant defiance despite his injury. "It was a minor setback," he continued boldly, clearly dismissive of the horrific damage he'd suffered. "I fell into some pathetic trap the girl laid for me—got frozen solid in ice. But this curse is nothing. I'll heal from it soon enough, and next time—" His expression twisted darkly, eyes narrowing with venomous hatred as he clenched his fists on the sheets. "Next time, I'll make sure to be far more brutal. She'll regret ever crossing a Malfoy! I'll break her until she begs me for mercy!"
Narcissa staggered backward, her breathing shallow and rapid, her vision blurred with stinging tears of horror and grief. She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, feeling her heart fracture beneath the unbearable weight of betrayal.
Her son—her Draco—was no longer recognizable. In his place sat a monstrous parody, twisted by Lucius's ruthless ambitions and cold cruelty.
Barely registering Lucius's continued voice as he coldly began interrogating Draco about some "diary," Narcissa's stomach turned violently.
Her magical marriage contract had trapped her for twenty long, cold years with Lucius Malfoy—a man who embodied everything dark, cruel, and callous in the world.
But she had always believed Draco was different.
Yet now, Narcissa understood with sickening clarity that her son—the child she had loved and cherished—was truly gone. Lost forever.
Unable to bear one more moment of their conversation, she ran out of the infirmary with tears in her eyes.
She was barely paying attention and let out a startled yelp when she ran into a strong chest. She almost fell backwards when arms reached out and wrapped around her.
– Harry –
I walked slowly toward the Great Hall, my stomach growling slightly in anticipation of dinner after such an eventful evening. Hermione had become a devil, my mum and I spent some "quality time" together and then my mum had subdued Professor Lupin as a werewolf when he tried to eat us.
Not my weirdest day at Hogwarts so far…
Just as I turned the corner into the wide corridor leading toward the Great Hall, someone suddenly barreled directly into me. I barely had time to react before a soft, distinctly feminine body crashed headlong against my chest with enough force that she stumbled backward, a startled yelp slipping past her lips.
Instinctively, I lunged forward, quickly reaching out to grasp her around her slender waist before she could fall. My hands tightened securely, steadying her as she swayed precariously on her feet.
"Oh!" the woman gasped in surprise, her voice a delicate mixture of embarrassment and distress.
My eyes swept downward instinctively, taking in the captivating sight before me.
The woman was absolutely stunning. Her platinum-blonde hair fell in silken waves down past her shoulders, shimmering faintly in the soft torchlight lining the walls. Her face was breathtakingly beautiful—even marred as it was by fresh tears glistening along flushed cheeks.
My eyes dipped lower, instinctively drawn to her generous curves that were currently pressed deliciously against me through her tightly-fitted robes. Her impressive breasts rose and fell rapidly with each shaky breath she took. Even through the thick fabric, I could feel how incredibly soft her body was.
"Oh dear—please forgive me," the woman stammered softly, cheeks coloring lightly in embarrassment as she tried to steady herself again. Her gaze remained downcast as though too ashamed or upset to look directly at me.
I gently tightened my grip around her waist, carefully supporting her trembling body, guiding her into a more stable stance. Slowly, she dared to lift her eyes upward until her gaze met mine fully.
As soon as our eyes locked, something shifted subtly in her expression. A brief flicker of surprise flashed across her beautiful features, followed quickly by a flush of warmth in her cheeks.
"It's perfectly alright," I murmured softly, giving her a gentle smile. "You seem rather upset… What's made a beautiful woman like you so sad?"
Her blush deepened immediately at my sincere words, clearly unused to such direct attention. She opened her mouth slightly as though to speak but hesitated, clearly uncertain whether to share her troubles with a total stranger…
Yet, for some reason she did. I guess I was just in the right place at the right time.
…
"...And that's what happened…" Narcissa—Malfoy said to me.
It was crazy to believe that this was Draco Malfoy's mother.
Yes, she had that haughty pureblood arrogance thing going on, but whose to say she didn't totally rock it as a sexy milf at the same time.
And it wasn't like she was cruel with that arrogance. Just a little judgy. Definitely, not compared to what she had confessed to me just now.
Draco and her husband's plans for my aunt Sona. I was going to kill them… That was a promise.
But for now I was comforting this heartbroken beautiful woman as we sat on a bench in an empty courtyard. I could afford to skip dinner for a good cause although I'm sure my girls were all wondering where I was. Or maybe they just assumed my own mum was still holding me up in the woods.
Narcissa had finally stopped crying, her fingers delicately dabbing at her beautiful, tear-streaked face with a fine silk handkerchief. Her breathing had calmed somewhat, though a hint of redness still rimmed her striking blue eyes. Despite the lingering distress, she composed herself gracefully, straightening her posture slightly as she let out a soft, dry chuckle.
"You know, Mr. Sitri," she murmured softly, glancing sideways at me with an almost smile. "If my dear husband ever discovered I'd just confessed all these dark family secrets to none other than the legendary Boy-Who-Lived, his former master's sworn enemy… he would be utterly livid."
I raised an eyebrow, smirking softly at her playful tone despite the seriousness of our conversation. "Well, it sounds like your husband can get fucked," I replied bluntly. "Narcissa, why do you even stay with an asshole like Lucius Malfoy? You were born a member of the noble and ancient House of Black, right? From what I've heard, they're ridiculously wealthy. Why put up with Lucius' shit if you could just divorce him and go back to your own family?"
At the mention of the Blacks, Narcissa's elegant expression darkened slightly. She turned toward me fully on the bench, folding the damp handkerchief carefully in her lap. Her eyes held mine with sad honesty. "Of course, Harry. I would give anything to divorce Lucius," she confessed quietly. "I wanted nothing more than to leave him, even decades ago, after he so eagerly joined the Dark Lord's ranks." Her voice trembled with anger and bitterness. "But… it's not that simple. You see, my family didn't merely arrange my marriage—they sold me off, essentially like prized cattle. It was sealed with an ancient magical contract that completely binds my magic to Lucius." Her voice grew softer, nearly breaking as her head lowered shamefully. "If I ever attempted to leave him or break the marriage vows, at best, I would lose all of my magical ability forever and become a squib. And at worst…" Her breath hitched, her pale hands clenching tightly on the fabric of her robes. "…at worst, the backlash of magic could kill me."
Holy fuck, that's brutal… Even by devil standards, I thought in shock. Devil marriage contracts were known for being strict, sure—but not that harsh.
I reached out slowly, carefully placing a reassuring hand on Narcissa's shoulder. Her body shuddered slightly at my gentle touch, but she didn't pull away. Instead, her body relaxed slightly, and she raised her watery gaze to meet mine once more.
"I'm truly sorry about everything, Narcissa," I whispered sincerely. "Especially how Draco has turned out. I wish it were different, but I honestly don't see him changing back into the boy you remember. Hell, he probably never was that boy to begin with, considering who his father is…"
She nodded slowly, reluctantly, sadness deepening in her expression. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, a heartbreaking mix of regret and acceptance coloring her words. "I know you're right, Harry. I've been lying to myself all these years, convincing myself that Draco was just confused—just misled. But today was the final, brutal truth I couldn't ignore anymore. And the worst part is I can't even do anything about it. I can't leave or ever go against my husband because of that contract. My magic won't let me…"
I paused for a second at that. "...Your human magic won't let you," I said while thinking to myself. "But what if you had other magic that didn't give a fuck about that marriage contract?"
Narcissa's eyes widened as she stared at me curiously. "What do you mean?"
"Do you want to do something very rushed and kind of stupid with me?" I asked her and pulled out a chess piece.
XXX