This chap has some r-18
Chapter 22 (~12k words):
– Rias –
The next day…
Rias sat comfortably in the Hufflepuff common room. It was only their second day at Hogwarts, yet her peerage had already carved out their own little corner.
She tightened her arms around Gasper, who sat perched nervously in her lap. The dhampir squirmed, hands tugging at his sleeves as if he could melt into them and vanish. "No running," Rias murmured softly, pressing him against her chest with one hand.
Her attention shifted back to Kiba and Koneko, who were lounging near the low table. "You both did very well yesterday," Rias said. She let her smile spread. "Helping Harry fight off that giant snake monster…."
Kiba inclined his head with his usual courteous smile, though his eyes glinted with the satisfaction of having proven himself in battle. Koneko merely gave a small shrug, her golden eyes unbothered but quietly pleased.
From her side, Akeno's melodic laugh rippled through the air. "Ara, ara, Rias... you did say yesterday that Hogwarts would be far less dangerous than Kuoh." She tilted her head, her violet eyes shining with mischief. "And yet within a single day, Harry and the others were fighting off a basilisk. Quite the safe school you brought us to, Buchou."
Rias flushed, her lips parting in an indignant pout as she shot Akeno a halfhearted glare. "How was I supposed to know?" she protested, tossing her long red hair over her shoulder with dramatic flair. "It's not like anyone mentioned this place was going to be so... exciting—and dangerous."
In truth, she was more exhilarated than upset. Yesterday had been a lot, yes—especially with her meeting Harry.
That didn't quite go the way she'd been hoping…
But on the other hand, She found herself genuinely enjoying this school's lessons. She found herself more engaged in these lessons than she had ever been in mundane classes back in Kuoh. The realization had struck her sharply that morning: calculus, physics, chemistry—all of it seemed quaint, even irrelevant, in the face of spellwork that ignored the laws of human science entirely. What good were numbers when magic bent reality itself?
She tilted her chin, holding Gasper still when he tried to inch away again. "No, Gasper. You're not allowed to hide. You'll get used to this," she said firmly.
Rias glanced up as two familiar girls approached their corner of the Hufflepuff common room—Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott, both from the same year as herself. They walked over shyly, smiles lighting up their faces as they noticed Gasper squirming restlessly in Rias's lap.
With a subtle mental nudge, Rias dropped the discreet charm she'd cast earlier—a simple silencing ward—to keep their conversation private. Suddenly the hum of the room's chatter became louder, clearer.
Hannah and Susan slowed as they came closer, gazes fixed curiously on Gasper.. The two witches shared an amused, knowing look between themselves before turning back to Gasper.
"Oh, he's just adorable as he was yesterday!" Hannah exclaimed warmly, her gaze lingering appreciatively on Gasper's petite frame. She leaned forward slightly, eyes sparkling with delighted amusement. "Especially that cute skirt and blouse combo—it's perfect on him!"
Susan nodded eagerly beside her, giggling softly. "Right? So cute!"
Gasper squeaked softly in embarrassment, burying his flushed face deeper into Rias's shoulder, trying desperately to hide himself from their enthusiastic praise. His hands fisted tightly into the fabric of her uniform blouse, his thin body trembling shyly against hers.
Rias laughed gently, feeling genuine affection for her shy peerage member as she tightened her embrace. "Yes, Gasper is absolutely the cutest," she said fondly, stroking soothing circles on his slender back. She was glad he's finally forced to spend some proper time with the rest of the peerage. After all, they are a family. He belongs right here, with all of them.
Gasper whimpered quietly, clearly mortified by the attention, but Rias simply smiled indulgently, keeping him securely held in her lap.
Hannah stepped closer, clasping her hands hopefully. "Um, actually, Rias, we were wondering if maybe… we could borrow Gasper from you for a little while?" She blushed prettily, glancing shyly at the trembling dhampir. "If that's okay."
Susan quickly chimed in, eyes bright with eagerness. "Yes, please! We'd love to spend some time with him. We can even take him to breakfast with us!"
Gasper froze, eyes wide with alarm at their request. As if social interaction was the worst punishment in the world or something!
Well, it might be for a super reclusive introvert like him, but it was also necessary.
He lifted his flushed face nervously from Rias's chest, wide red eyes flicking anxiously from Hannah and Susan back to Rias, silently pleading.
"Oh, absolutely," she purred, her tone velvet-soft as she gently nudged Gasper off her lap, urging him to stand. "He's all yours, ladies."
Gasper stumbled to his feet awkwardly. He cast Rias a look of betrayed despair, his delicate lips parted in quiet panic.
"B-Buchou…" he pleaded weakly, eyes huge and glassy.
But Rias simply grinned wider, casually leaning back into her chair and crossing one leg elegantly over the other. "Now, now, Gasper," Akeno cooed teasingly, clearly savoring the moment, "Don't be rude. You wouldn't disappoint your new friends, would you?"
Susan eagerly looped her arm through Gasper's slender one, pulling him gently but insistently closer. Hannah immediately slipped her arm around his other side, effectively trapping him between their warm bodies. Gasper's petite form looked even smaller, more fragile squeezed between them, his delicate frame dwarfed by their enthusiastic closeness.
"Come on, Gasper!" Hannah encouraged, eyes bright with excitement. "We promise we'll take great care of you."
"You're just too cute to resist," Susan giggled sweetly, lightly tugging him along toward their circle of Hufflepuff friends across the common room.
Gasper whimpered helplessly, stumbling slightly on his heels as he was pulled away from the safety of Rias's presence. He shot one final pleading glance back toward her, looking hopelessly flustered and overwhelmed.
Rias then turned her attention toward Koneko and Kiba, gently brushing a stray lock of her crimson hair behind one ear. She felt genuine curiosity about how her peerage was adjusting to Hogwarts. The surprising popularity of Gasper still lingered in her thoughts, she'd never imagined he would end up being the one to capture the attention of so many students.
Then again, Gasper had always been adorable—perhaps it shouldn't have shocked her as much as it did. Even back at Kuoh, he would have been incredibly popular if only he'd ever left his room to actually attend classes in person rather than hiding behind his computer screen, taking everything online.
She leaned forward slightly, elbows resting comfortably on her knees as she addressed her rook first. "Koneko, have you had a chance to make any new friends yet? Anyone interesting from your classes yesterday?"
Koneko met Rias's eyes with a blank stare, the golden hue reflecting little emotion. Without even blinking, she responded bluntly, her voice flat and unbothered. "I didn't bother talking to anyone yesterday, Buchou…"
Rias sighed quietly, rubbing a hand gently against her forehead. Koneko was as straightforward as ever, never one to pretend or sugarcoat things. But her reclusive nature was going to be another challenge—another member of the peerage Rias would have to guide toward opening up more. Koneko would certainly need a bit of prodding to leave her comfort zone, though Rias was confident she could help her eventually.
"Alright," Rias said patiently, making a mental note to keep an eye out for ways to coax Koneko into interacting more with the other students. She shifted her attention toward her knight, eyes softening warmly. "How about you, Kiba? Any luck making friends?"
But when Rias looked over at Kiba, she immediately noticed something unusual. His typically composed face was flushed, a faint pink spreading across his pale cheeks, and he quickly avoided her gaze, instead choosing to stare intensely at his lap. His fingers nervously picked at the edge of his robes. This was strange—Yuto Kiba, ever poised and graceful, looking so openly flustered was definitely out of the ordinary.
Rias raised an eyebrow, exchanging a curious, knowing glance with Akeno, who was observing the scene with clear amusement sparkling in her violet eyes. Akeno's lips curled into a slow, teasing smile, confirming Rias's own suspicions.
There was definitely a juicy story hidden behind Kiba's sudden embarrassment.
"Kiba?" Rias asked gently, leaning in closer, her tone playfully teasing. "Care to share what happened yesterday?"
Kiba cleared his throat awkwardly, looking momentarily trapped by their attention. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, still refusing to meet her eyes directly. "I… well, actually," he began haltingly, his voice quieter than usual, hesitant as though revealing a secret. "I met someone yesterday—a boy from Slytherin. An older student. He's… Italian too, actually. Like me."
Rias's lips curled into a wider, amused smile, the pieces quickly falling into place. She had never seen Kiba so openly affected by someone before. Clearly, there was a strong attraction here. She couldn't help but feel delighted; it was rare to see her knight in such a state. Beside her, Akeno let out a soft, melodic chuckle, clearly enjoying this unexpected revelation just as much.
"Oh?" Rias asked, her voice warm and teasing. She leaned forward further, genuinely intrigued by Kiba's bashful reaction. "And what's the name of this handsome Italian boy who managed to make my usually calm and collected knight blush so much?"
Kiba's cheeks deepened to an even brighter shade of pink, and he let out a soft, self-conscious laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. After a hesitant pause, he finally looked up, meeting Rias's expectant gaze shyly. "His name is Blaise Zabini," Kiba said quietly, a faint but unmistakable fondness in his voice. "He's nineteen years old—a fourth-year student, just like you and Akeno-senpai."
Rias felt her chest tighten with fond amusement. She glanced once more at Akeno, and the two women exchanged knowing looks. Yes, there was definitely a story here, and from the way Kiba's cheeks remained pink, it was one worth teasing out later. For now, though, she simply let him sit there with his blush and his quiet happiness.
Too bad for Tsubaki though. They all tried to tell her that Kiba batted for the other team, but Tsubaki never listened. Then again, Rias wondered if Tsubaki would possibly end up with Harry instead? Although, according to Sona, Harry hadn't spent much time alone with Sona's queen up to this point.
Koneko and Kiba eventually excused themselves to go find breakfast. In reality, it was more Koneko dragging Kiba along with her, the small cat-girl gripping his sleeve with quiet determination. The moment food was mentioned, her golden eyes had lit up with rare excitement. For her, Hogwarts was already paradise—the fact that every meal was an all-you-can-eat buffet was nothing short of a dream come true. She could happily devour twenty thousand calories in a single sitting...
Thankfully, devils didn't put on weight easily, and Koneko's constant training sessions burned through much of her endless appetite. Still, Rias couldn't help but shake her head fondly as she watched her rook vanish toward the Great Hall with her knight reluctantly in tow.
The common room grew quieter once they were gone. Akeno shifted gracefully beside her, her teasing smile softening as her eyes grew more serious. She brushed a strand of long black hair behind her ear, her expression calm but intent as she studied Rias closely. "Rias," Akeno said gently, her melodic voice no less alluring even when laced with concern, "are you ready to talk to Harry again today? Hopefully, it will go better than yesterday."
The question lingered between them, heavy and unavoidable. Rias drew in a slow breath, exhaling quietly as she leaned back into her chair. The memory of yesterday's confrontation stung sharply in her chest. Harry's shocked expression, the way the situation had spiraled completely out of her control—it all replayed in her mind like a cruel echo.
She clenched her hands lightly against her knees, steadying herself. "I don't know if I'm ready," Rias admitted softly, her voice low and unguarded. She turned her head slightly, staring at the fire's shifting embers. "But if I want this engagement to work… or even if I just want to understand him… I have to try again."
Akeno leaned forward, resting her chin delicately against the back of her hand. Her violet eyes gleamed with quiet amusement, though her tone remained supportive. "That's the Rias I know. Bold, determined, unwilling to give up just because a boy glared at you."
Rias shot her a small, exasperated look, but the corner of her lips twitched upward despite herself. "He didn't just glare, Akeno. He looked at us all like everyone he knew had betrayed him. And I hadn't even had the chance to explain anything from my side… It was the same way I felt when my parents told me about Riser being my old fiance."
Akeno's smile softened. She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against Rias's arm in reassurance. "Then explain today. Tell him your side of the story. Also, Kiba and Koneko did buy you a lot of good will yesterday so that will help. Although, I bet he's probably still upset that someone tried to kill him—again, apparently. Ara Ara, I wonder if he's working out his stress on any of his harem members right now…?"
Rias blushed and rolled her eyes at Akeno's overactive imagination…
– Harry –
(R-18 start)
"Harder, young master! It feels so fucking good!"
"Kya—spank me more, young master!"
Their voices overlapped, desperate and needy. Lyra and Lyna, my gorgeous raven-haired twin maids, were both bent over the mattress with their arms braced against the sheets. I'd made them keep their slutty maid uniforms on for me, but their frilly skirts were flipped up high, leaving their bare asses and dripping pussies exposed to my use.
From behind, the sight was of two perfectly round bubble butts side by side, their pale skin flushed pink from my hands, their wet holes glistening.
I was on my knees between them, hips snapping forward, pounding my cock into Lyna's tight, soaking cunt. Her pussy clenched greedily around me, every thrust dragging more slickness down my length.
With my free hand I reached across to her sister. Lyra moaned into the sheets as I smacked her ass hard enough to make it ripple, the red handprint blooming beautifully on her pale cheek. I spanked her again, sharper this time, and her whole body jolted. Both of their asses jiggled wildly with every thrust or slap, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the room.
"Y-you're splitting me open, young master!" Lyna gasped, her voice high-pitched and breathless. She arched her back, pushing her hips back against me even harder, her pussy sucking me in with desperate greed.
Her twin wasn't any quieter. Lyra turned her flushed face toward me, strands of black hair sticking to her sweaty cheek. "Don't ignore me! My ass is burning, my pussy's dripping! I need your cock too, young master!"
I gritted my teeth, slamming deep into Lyna and holding there for a second, grinding against her soaked folds. Her whole body quivered as she let out a ragged scream. My palm came down on Lyra's ass again, then again, until she was writhing from the sting, her tight little hole puckering as if begging me to take her.
Their shameless moans mixed together, twin voices echoing in perfect unison, as though they were competing to see who could sound more like a needy slut for me. Sweat dripped down my back as I pulled almost all the way out of Lyna's pussy, her slickness coating my cock from tip to base, before slamming back in with brutal force. Her scream turned into a sobbing moan of pleasure.
"F-fill me! Don't stop, young master, don't stop!" she begged, clawing at the sheets.
"Make us both cum! Use us like the whores we are!" Lyra added, panting heavily, her body trembling from each smack.
The raw heat of their words made my cock throb inside Lyna, my balls tightening with each desperate clench of her pussy. I spanked Lyra one more time, then dug my fingers into her reddened cheek, spreading her ass apart so I could see her wet little hole winking at me, begging for its turn.
Lyna whined as I pulled my cock out of her soaked pussy, her walls clinging to me desperately as if trying to drag me back inside. Her hips twitched in protest, but I ignored her pleading gasp and shifted over, lining myself up with Lyra's waiting cunt.
She was already dripping for me, her folds glistening, her swollen clit peeking out like a desperate little button. I slammed into her in one smooth thrust, burying myself to the hilt. Lyra shrieked in pleasure, her back arching beautifully. "F-fuck, young master! You're splitting me apart!" she cried, her pussy clutching me so tight it was like her twin's—wet, needy, gripping me from every angle.
Lyna wasn't sulking for long. I grabbed her pale ass cheek, spreading her wide, and pressed one finger against the tight ring of her asshole. The instant I breached her, sliding slowly into that tight heat, she arched like I'd set fire to her nerves. "Y-young master!" Lyna squealed, half a sob and half a moan. Her hands clenched the sheets until her knuckles turned white.
Her ass clenched around my finger, hot and snug, and the sensation made my cock throb harder inside her sister. I twisted my wrist slightly, sliding deeper until my finger was buried inside her ass.
"More," she gasped, her voice breaking with desperation. "Another finger, please—I want it!"
Her dirty begging only drove me harder. I pounded into Lyra, my hips slapping against her reddened ass, her cheeks rippling with every brutal thrust. With each stroke, her pussy gushed wetter, juices coating my cock and dribbling down her thighs.
I spat in my hand, slicking my fingers, and pushed a second one into Lyna's ass. She cried out, her body shaking, her ass spreading wide for me. Her back bowed beautifully as she pushed against my hand, greedy for the stretch.
"Yes—yes, young master!" she cried. "Stretch my ass, fill me, I love it so much!"
Lyra turned her head toward me, her flushed face twisted with jealousy. Sweat gleamed on her forehead, strands of black hair sticking to her damp skin. "Don't ignore me!" she panted, her pussy convulsing around me as if to prove her point. "Make me cum too! Pound me harder—I can take it!"
I snarled and yanked her hair back, forcing her head up. Her mouth fell open in a scream as I jackhammered her pussy, every stroke deep and punishing. Her tits bounced beneath her maid uniform, nipples stiff and poking through the thin fabric.
The room filled with their cries—two sisters moaning in perfect chorus, one with my cock stuffed in her cunt, the other with her ass stretched by my fingers. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed, mixed with the wet squelch of Lyra's pussy swallowing me whole.
Lyra and Lyna turned their heads toward each other, their flushed cheeks brushing together. I kept hammering into Lyra's pussy from behind, my cock sliding in and out of her dripping hole with loud, wet smacks. Their lips met in a sloppy kiss, tongues immediately tangling as they moaned into each other's mouths. The sound of their muffled cries only made my cock throb harder, the vibration of Lyra's tight cunt gripping me like a vice.
I pulled my fingers out of Lyna's ass with a wet pop and slid my hand down between her thighs. Her skin was slick with sweat, the inside of her thighs trembling. I pressed two fingers against her swollen clit and began rubbing furiously, circling and flicking in rapid strokes. Her reaction was immediate—she broke the kiss with a high-pitched squeal, her whole body convulsing under my touch.
"Y-young master! Oh fuck—don't stop, don't stop!" she begged, her voice almost cracking as she buried her face against her sister's shoulder. Her hips jerked helplessly against my hand, grinding down on my fingers as I rubbed her clit.
Lyra's pussy clamped down even tighter around me as she listened to her twin's shameless moans. "She's dripping everywhere," I growled into her ear, yanking her hair back so she couldn't hide her face. "Just like you, whore."
Her reply was a ragged cry, her cunt spasming around my cock like it was trying to milk me dry. I felt her whole body seize as she came hard, juices spilling down my shaft, coating my balls in hot slickness. Her scream tore through the air, and then she slumped forward, face buried in the sheets, her body trembling with the aftershocks. Her ass still twitched as I pulled free of her, her pussy still gushing even in the aftermath.
"Such a good slut," I muttered, giving her ass one final smack before letting her collapse. Her body went limp, her maid skirt bunched up around her waist, her thighs glistening with her own release.
Lyna turned her head toward me then, her flushed face streaked with sweat, her lips parted in a desperate pout. Her eyes burned with hunger, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. "Please, young master," she whimpered. "I haven't cum yet. Fill me up again."
I didn't make her wait. With a snarl, I shoved her down flat onto the bed, spreading her legs wide. My cock, still soaked with her sister's cum, slammed into her pussy in one brutal thrust. The heat of her cunt swallowed me whole, tighter and wetter than I remembered. Lyna let out a choked scream, her nails clawing at the sheets as her back arched high.
"Fuck, yes! Finally!" she cried, her pussy squeezing me so hard it nearly stole my breath. "Use me, young master! Pound me until I break!"
I gripped her hips with both hands, pulling her back onto my cock as I thrust forward again and again, my balls slapping against her ass. Each stroke drove her higher, her screams growing louder until she was practically wailing for me. Her tits bounced beneath her uniform with every impact, the thin fabric soaked with sweat clinging to her body, her nipples stabbing through the maid blouse.
I leaned over her, my chest pressing against her back as I fucked her into the mattress. Her pussy gripped me greedily, sucking me in deeper with every stroke, her wetness spilling down my thighs. The heat in my groin built fast, too fast, my balls drawing tight as the urge to cum surged dangerously close.
I bit down on her shoulder, growling into her ear, trying to hold it back. "You're so fucking tight, Lyna… If you keep milking me like this, I won't last."
She turned her head, her flushed face twisted in pure desperation. "Don't hold back," she begged breathlessly. "Cum inside me—fill me, young master! I need it!"
She cried out, head snapping back, her nails clawing furiously at the sheets. Her cunt gripped me instantly, so hot, so tight, her walls clutching at me as if trying to pull me deeper with every stroke.
Beside us, Lyra stirred, still dazed from her orgasm, but she turned her face toward her sister. Their eyes met, and then they leaned into each other a second time, lips locking in another sloppy, desperate kiss.
The sight made my cock throb inside Lyna. Two identical beauties—sisters, lovers, my sluts—kissing messily while I fucked one of them into the mattress. Their tongues tangled, saliva dripping down their chins, their muffled cries blending together.
I shifted my hand from Lyna's hip, sliding it down between her thighs. Her clit was swollen, slick, practically throbbing under my touch. I rubbed it mercilessly, circling and flicking while I rammed my cock in and out of her cunt.
Her kiss with Lyra broke instantly. Lyna threw her head back with a piercing scream, her whole body convulsing violently. "Yes—yes, oh fuck! I can't take it! I'm cumming!"
Her pussy clamped down on me like a vice, squeezing and milking me with wild spasms. The sensation tore through me, breaking my control. My cock throbbed violently, my balls tightening painfully. Lyna's pussy was still spasming around me, pulling me deeper with every frantic clench.
"I… I can't hold it," I growled, slamming into her as hard as I could. "You're gonna take it, slut—you're gonna take all of it."
"Yes! Fill me! Fill my pussy, young master!" she wailed, her voice raw with need.
With one final brutal thrust, I buried myself to the hilt, my hips grinding against her ass. The pressure exploded inside me, a white-hot wave of release tearing through my body. I roared as I pumped thick, hot streams deep into her womb, spurting again and again until I felt her shudder from the heat flooding her.
Lyna screamed with me, her back arching high. Her pussy clenched even tighter, milking every drop from me as she came around my cock, her juices spraying down her thighs.
When it finally ended, she collapsed forward, face buried in the sheets, her body trembling uncontrollably. My cock slid halfway out, cum already leaking from her twitching hole. Lyra leaned in, kissing her sister's cheek softly, their hands intertwining weakly as they both panted for breath, ruined and satisfied.
I stayed kneeling between them, chest heaving, sweat dripping down my spine. My cock twitched inside Lyna, still buried in her sloppy, cum-filled cunt, and I smirked down at the pair of them.
The door to my room opened just as I slowly withdrew my cock from Lyna's thoroughly-used pussy. A thick stream of my hot cum immediately began to ooze from her swollen folds, dripping down onto her inner thighs and the sheets below. She moaned softly, barely aware, utterly spent after I'd fucked her to exhaustion.
I turned and found Hermione standing at the threshold. Her cheeks were tinged pink, her brown eyes wide with a faint blush—but there was concern in them, too. She stepped inside quietly, shutting the door behind her and coming nearer to the bed, her gaze flicking between my two utterly fucked-out maids and my still-erect cock, glistening and slick with cum and their juices.
She stopped at the edge of the bed, folding her arms across her chest with a soft sigh. "Harry, are you alright?" she asked gently. Her eyes softened as she reached out to brush a damp strand of hair from my forehead. "You're not just taking out your stress on them after everything that happened yesterday, are you?"
Before I could reply, Lyra lifted her head weakly from the sheets, her hair tangled, lips parted. Her eyes were hazy and half-lidded, clearly still drunk on pleasure. "It's okay, young master," she purred breathlessly, her voice thick and satisfied. "We love it when you use us like this."
Next to her, Lyna made a tiny, approving noise, too exhausted and blissfully sore to say much more.
Hermione's eyes crinkled in gentle amusement, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. "Well, I suppose that's my answer." She shook her head softly and reached out, taking my hand in hers. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
She led me gently but firmly away from the bed, toward the adjoining bathroom. My cock twitched again in anticipation as I watched Hermione begin to strip from her robes, letting the fabric fall softly from her shoulders to pool around her feet. I admired her naked body openly—her beautifully rounded breasts, the smooth, inviting curve of her hips, the creamy, unblemished skin that glowed faintly in the soft lamplight.
My gaze traveled downward, and I noticed immediately that her inner thighs were glistening slightly. Clearly, she had been watching and getting turned on by the sight of me roughly dominating my two maids. When she noticed the hungry way I looked at her, Hermione smirked softly, her eyes sparkling with knowing desire.
"Come on, then," she said softly, pulling me by the hand toward the steaming shower. "I think it's my turn to distract you properly."
(R-18 End)
…Hermione and I got out of the shower after spending quite a bit of time in there, going multiple rounds as she did her best to calm me down—and it really helped. We took our time drying off, standing close together in the warm, humid bathroom, stealing gentle touches and soft kisses as we slowly ran the soft towels across each other's naked bodies.
Hermione smiled at me tenderly as she gently brushed damp hair out of my face, her brown eyes warm and satisfied.
Feeling more relaxed than I had in days, I stepped back into my bedroom with Hermione by my side, both of us freshly dressed. Lyra and Lyna were waiting there patiently, both standing gracefully in their maid uniforms. They'd obviously used magic to tidy themselves up after our earlier session—their outfits were pristine again, their pale cheeks still flushed with warmth and their matching pink eyes carrying the lingering haze of pleasure. They both had soft, satisfied smiles on their faces, and as Hermione and I approached, the two sisters shared an excited glance between themselves.
"Young Master," Lyra began cheerfully, stepping forward with her eyes sparkling. She seemed immensely pleased about something. "WE HAVE GOOD NEWS FOR YOU!"
"Yes," Lyna chimed in, stepping closer to her twin sister, nodding eagerly as her dark hair bounced lightly around her shoulders. "We were going to tell you last night, but then you didn't get back til 4 in the morning after resurrecting Miss Nymphadora as your new pawn."
I asked the two of them what had them so excited.
Lyra and Lyna shared a look, then said together, "We searched every single room in Gryffindor last night after we heard about the snake attack."
I blinked. Hermione groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "I'm sure the students weren't thrilled about that," she muttered. "Especially since no one else even knows about that attack. And were lucky about that otherwise they might have closed down Hogwarts if a 50 ft long Basilisk was found in the middle of the school. Especially with all the foreign students around as well."
Yeah, it was frankly a miracle we avoided a massive international incident there. Yes, a bunch of students from Hogwarts and foreign schools had been petrified, but whenever they all eventually get cured, I doubt any of them will remember the cause of the attack.
"Meh, they'll get over it," Lyra said with a shrug, before her lips curved into a grin. She turned, pointing toward the far corner of the room. "But look what we found!"
I followed her finger. Something I hadn't noticed before sat half-hidden in the shadows—a box draped clumsily with a few sheets over it?
Hermione walked over briskly, suspicion in every step. She yanked the sheets away, and what she uncovered wasn't a box at all. It was a cage.
Inside the cage was a fat, filthy rat. Its patchy fur bristled, its beady eyes bulging with panic as it pressed into the bars. The thing let out a shrill squeak, claws scratching uselessly against the bottom of the cage.
My eyebrows shot up. "Is that… Ron Weasley's rat?"
The twins' matching pink eyes lit up with pride. Both of them nodded eagerly, smiling like cats that had cornered their prey. "Uh-huh! And he's the bastard that tried to kill you, Young Master!" they said in unison.
I frowned, confused, my mind turning over their words.
But Hermione caught on instantly. She gasped, her voice sharp and incredulous. "Wait. Ron's rat… is an Animagus!?" Her outrage echoed off the walls. "And he's been in our common room for years now!?" she sounded even more pissed off at that part.
The rat squeaked louder, thrashing against the cage as though it understood. Lyra and Lyna only nodded firmly, their expressions dead serious now.
I remembered vaguely from Hermione's lessons a few weeks back: an Animagus was a witch or wizard who could transform into an animal at will. A legal, but incredibly rare, magical skill.
My eyes narrowed. "How did you know to look for him?" I asked.
The twins exchanged another quick glance, then Lyra spoke up. "Because of the dog."
"The Animagus dog," Lyna clarified. "We saw him a few days ago. When we put it together, we thought—maybe the bastard sneaking around trying to hurt our Young Master was hiding the same way. So we searched."
Hermione and I both froze. Her lips parted, and she whispered the question that had already formed in my head.
"What other Animagus!?" we demanded at the same time.
…
A bit later…
I was walking down the stone corridors of Hogwarts. Next to me, Tonks—my newly resurrected pawn—moved along quietly, her normally vibrant hair hanging limply around her pale face. Her steps lacked their usual bounce, eyes still glazed with confusion and exhaustion.
I glanced sideways at her. I understood why she seemed so overwhelmed.
Hell, waking up from death as a reincarnated devil would leave anyone reeling. I'd wanted to stay with her last night, to gently guide her through everything she'd need to know—her new nature, her role as a servant in the Sitri clan, all the intricate details of devil society that she'd suddenly become a part of.
But Narcissa had promptly ushered me out of her quarters, firmly but politely insisting she'd handle explaining everything to her niece herself. She seemed determined to support Tonks through this transition alone, probably wanting to strengthen the newly reconnected bond between them.
Still, I wished I'd been there for Tonks myself. It was, after all, my fault she was in this situation. The memory of her lifeless eyes staring blankly after the basilisk attack yesterday still haunted me, an uncomfortable ache tightening my chest.
In my hand, the metal cage swung lightly with each step. Inside, the disgusting rat was curled in the farthest corner, trembling and occasionally squeaking pathetically. I glared down at it, disgusted by its filthy fur and twitching whiskers.
Tonks hadn't asked about the cage yet, despite clearly noticing it. She was perhaps too mentally drained.
All I'd told her back in the common room was that we needed to see Dumbledore immediately, and she'd nodded quietly, accepting my vague explanation without protest. But as we walked, I saw her eyes flicking curiously towards the rat.
Finally, she cleared her throat. "Harry," she murmured softly, breaking the tense silence between us. "You mind telling me why exactly we're taking a disgusting rodent to the Headmaster's office at this early hour?"
I sighed, holding the cage a bit higher so we could both clearly see the rat inside. It shuddered, pressing itself deeper into the corner. "This," I explained coldly, my voice dripping with disdain, "is not just a rat. He's an Animagus wizard—one that's been hiding out as Ron Weasley's pet for years. Lyra and Lyna found him last night in Gryffindor tower."
Tonks stopped in her tracks, eyes widening. "Wait—seriously? An illegal Animagus? Hiding among the students?"
I nodded grimly. "Yeah, and we suspect he might have been involved in the recent attacks. He's likely the assassin that's been trying to kill me."
Tonks' face hardened instantly. "Bloody hell," she hissed sharply, leaning closer to peer into the cage with narrowed eyes. "And you have no idea who he is?"
"No clue," I admitted reluctantly, staring again at the rat, whose beady eyes darted around nervously. "But I plan on changing that immediately."
She nodded firmly. "Then let's hurry. If Dumbledore hasn't left for breakfast yet, we'll catch him easily."
Thankfully, Dumbledore was still in his office by the time Tonks and I made it past the gargoyle and climbed the moving staircase. The heavy oak door opened soundlessly as I pushed it, and the familiar sight of the cluttered office greeted me—shelves packed with books and trinkets, whirring devices that clicked and spun on their own, and Fawkes perched serenely near the tall window. The bird was enjoying the sunrise.
The old man looked up immediately. "Ah, hello there, Harry. And Nymphadora. I must admit, I wasn't expecting to see the two of you again quite so soon."
Beside me, Tonks stiffened, her shoulders rising sharply. "Don't call me Nymphadora," she mumbled, cheeks flushing faintly pink.
Dumbledore just smiled at her, the playful gleam in his gaze leaving no doubt he'd used the name on purpose.
I cleared my throat, deciding to save Tonks from further embarrassment. Lifting the cage in my hand, I stepped forward. "Nymphadora here—" I teased, smirking at Tonks's fresh pout, "caught us an intruder in Hogwarts, sir. I think he's been behind some of the assassination attempts on me."
We decided to go with the story that it was her who caught him and not my two maids. It made Lyra and Lyna stand out less, especially since Tonks was a trained Auror.
The twinkle vanished from Dumbledore's eyes instantly. The shift in his demeanor was so sudden it froze me in place. One second he looked like a kindly old man, the next he radiated raw authority and danger. His right hand slipped smoothly into his robe and drew out a wand unlike anything I'd ever seen. The wood was a pale, ancient white, faint lines carved along its length, and the air around it seemed heavier—charged with centuries of power.
It wasn't like Hermione's wand, or anyone else's I'd seen. Too bad I didn't have a wand of my own to compare it to.
"Whoa…" I muttered under my breath, instinctively backing a step away. "What the hell is that supposed to be?"
Dumbledore didn't answer. His face was grim now, no trace of the playful man who'd greeted us minutes ago. He flicked his wrist, and the cage dissolved into nothingness with a whisper of displaced air.
The rat tried to bolt instantly, claws scrabbling against the stone floor.
But the old man was faster. His strange wand slashed through the air, and a streak of light hit the rodent before it made it a foot. The impact was immediate—fur stretching, bones twisting grotesquely, limbs elongating as the animal shape melted away.
A shrill squeal warped into a human groan, and within seconds, a short, fat man was sprawled across the floor.
The stench hit first. He reeked worse than the animal form—unwashed body, stale sweat, piss, and fear all clinging to him. His greasy hair clung in strings to his blotchy face, and his watery eyes darted around wildly. His fingers were filthy, nails yellowed and cracked. He looked like a rat even in his true form—beady eyes, twitching movements, round belly that strained his tattered clothes.
Tonks gagged beside me. "Bloody hell…"
I wrinkled my nose, covering my mouth. "He smells like something that crawled out of a sewer."
Dumbledore's breath caught audibly. His knuckles whitened around the wand, and he whispered the name as if it was something foul. "Peter Pettigrew…"
The name meant nothing to me. I blinked in confusion, glancing between the old man and Tonks. From her face, she was just as clueless. Her brows furrowed, lips parting slightly as if she was trying to place the name but came up empty.
"Who the fuck is Peter Pettigrew?" I asked bluntly.
The man on the floor whimpered, curling in on himself like the rat he'd been. His watery eyes fixed on Dumbledore, lips trembling. "P-Professor… please… I-I can explain…"
Dumbledore's expression hardened, colder than I'd ever seen. His wand never wavered. "I should have known," he murmured, almost to himself. "All these years… alive… hiding in plain sight."
He flicked his gaze toward me and Tonks, his voice tight. "Peter Pettigrew was once a student here. He was… believed to have died more than a decade ago." Dumbledore's jaw clenched. "…Clearly we were wrong. And now we know who was it that tortured poor Ron Weasley's mind all these years as well…"
Pettigrew whimpered again, shaking his head rapidly, sweat rolling down his forehead. "N-no! Please! You don't understand—I didn't have a choice—"
Ugh, even his voice sounded gross.
"Silence," Dumbledore snapped. The word cracked like a whip, and Pettigrew's mouth slammed shut as if invisible hands had clamped it closed. The old man lowered his wand only slightly, enough to look at me again. His gaze was serious, cutting right through me. "Harry… This man was once a friend of your parents. One of your parents I mean. Well, he was a friend of Lily at the very least. But he was best friends with James Potter and Sirius Black."
My heart stuttered. "…What?"
Dumbledore nodded grimly, eyes never leaving mine. "I always thought that Sirius Black was the traitor, the one who sold out Lily and James to the dark lord. Now it seems my judgment has been wrong all of this time."
I stared at the pathetic, trembling man on the floor—the stinking, cowardly creature whimpering in fear—and tried to connect him to the enormity of what Dumbledore had just said.
This… rat of a man. This disgusting piece of filth. He'd betrayed HER? My blood roared in my ears. My fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. "You're telling me," I said slowly, my voice shaking with fury, "that this piece of shit… this sewer rat… is the reason my mother Lily was murdered?"
Dumbledore's silence was all the answer I needed.
Tonks swore under her breath, her wand hand trembling slightly as she glared at Pettigrew. "I'm going to fucking kill him myself!"
Pettigrew squealed, trying to scuttle backward on his ass, his fat body quivering with terror. He looked more like vermin now than ever—eyes darting, teeth bared, sweat soaking his filthy clothes. Pettigrew groaned as he tried to crawl backward across the floor, eyes wide and darting like a trapped animal. "P-please—don't—don't let her hurt me!" he squealed, his voice nasally, shrill.
I wasn't going to let Tonks hurt him.
Not because I felt any mercy toward Pettigrew—hell no—but because I wanted to be the one to break him. I wanted to rip him limb from limb, to punish him myself for the pain he'd brought to Lily, for robbing me of the life I might've had. My fists clenched so tightly at my sides that I could feel the nails digging painfully into my palms.
But before either Tonks or I could act on our rage, Dumbledore stepped forward, positioning himself firmly between us and the cowardly, sobbing mess on the floor. "Harry," Dumbledore said sharply, his voice cutting through the haze of my fury. "I understand your anger—but killing him won't bring Lily back. Trust me when I say that vengeance stains the soul."
I almost laughed. He had no idea just how many people I'd already killed. Devils weren't exactly known for pacifism—I'd already piled up a body count that would horrify the kindly old Headmaster. But I held my tongue. Dumbledore was the kind of person who saw good everywhere—even when it wasn't there. He wouldn't understand the ruthless side of our race.
Dumbledore sighed deeply and turned back toward Pettigrew, his voice somber and heavy with authority. "Peter Pettigrew must face proper justice. He'll stand trial at the Ministry and answer for his crimes before the law."
I scoffed softly to myself. British Ministry justice—If it was so effective then why had Peter managed to escape notice for so long in the first place.
"Nymphadora," he said gently, turning toward Tonks. "Would you please send an immediate message to Amelia Bones? She'll ensure the Aurors secure Peter properly."
Tonks nodded stiffly. "Of course, sir."
But Pettigrew panicked instantly, squealing like the rat he was. "N-No! Please, Professor, don't do this! If they catch me, they'll give me the Dementor's Kiss for sure!" He crawled forward pathetically on his knees, sweaty hands outstretched in desperate begging. "I—I have information! Valuable information about Death Eaters! I can give you names—locations—anything!" He looked utterly pathetic as he began rummaging through his filthy robes.
My muscles tightened reflexively—was this idiot about to pull a wand?
Pettigrew yanked a long, dark wand from inside his robes. I was about to strike him down with magic before Dumbledore spoke up again.
The second Dumbledore laid eyes on it, the Headmaster tensed visibly, his voice tight and sharp with shock. "That's Voldemort's wand!"
Voldemort's wand—the wand that had murdered Lily Potter.
And just like that, my world narrowed. All the rage and hate I felt toward Voldemort—toward Pettigrew—toward every bastard who had ever hurt me boiled over in an instant. The wand seemed to glow in Pettigrew's sweaty grip, pulsing with sickening dark magic.
Without even thinking—a fierce, focused jet of razor-sharp water slicing through the air faster than anyone could react.
"No!" Pettigrew shrieked as he saw it coming.
Too late.
My water blade sliced cleanly through the length of Voldemort's wand, the dark artifact instantly cleaved into two perfectly severed pieces. The moment it broke, a strange, blackish smoke curled up briefly from the snapped core, emitting a faint, tortured hiss before fading completely.
"What have you done?!" Pettigrew gasped in horror, frantically scrabbling at the ruined pieces. He stared at them helplessly, his pudgy face twisted in fear. "You—you've destroyed it! He'll kill me for this when he returns!"
I glared down at Pettigrew, a cold smirk curling across my lips. "Good," I growled softly, dangerously calm despite the fury swirling inside me. "If Voldemort ever crawls back from whatever hole he's hiding in, tell him Harry Sitri sends his regards."
Tonks stood frozen, staring at the shattered wand on the floor, shock and something like awe flickering in her tired eyes.
Finally, Dumbledore took a deep breath, gathering himself before speaking carefully, "What's done is done, Harry. Perhaps it's for the best that particular wand can never again be wielded." Dumbledore then paused for a moment before turning back to me, "Is there any other life-changing news you wanted to deliver to me this morning, Harry?"
"...I'm pretty sure Hagrid's new dog is actually Sirius Black, also an animagus."
"Of course it is…" Dumbledore just facepalmed at that—before he waved his wand and Peter's direction again.
Peter let out a squeak of fright as he was turned back into a rat.
Dumbledore conjured another steel cage and levitated the panicking rat inside it before locking it tight. "It's safer if he stays in Rat form until the authorities get here, because then he won't be able to use any magic to escape." Dumbledore explained to us.
I supposed that was a trade off of being able to turn yourself into an animal, you couldn't use magic while in an animal form. And just like that any thoughts I had of wanting to be an animagus myself started to disappear because that was a huge weakness!
…
"...Are you mad still?" Nymphadora asked softly as we stepped out of Dumbledore's office, leaving the old man alone with that disgusting rat locked securely in its cage.
I rubbed my temples, letting out an exhausted breath. "It took me shagging Lyra, Lyna, and Hermione all back-to-back just to calm down after what happened to you last night. Now I find out that disgusting little rat had a hand in my human mother's murder. So yeah, I'm fucking pissed again," I growled irritably.
Nymphadora flushed bright pink, stopping mid-step for a split second, her eyes widening before she quickly caught up again. An impish little smirk curved across her lips as she looked up at me, mischief lighting her gaze. "Oh? You had to fuck three beautiful women just to calm down after what happened to me?" She leaned slightly closer, her voice playful but teasing. "I didn't know you cared so much, Harry."
I rolled my eyes, glancing sideways at her and fighting the small smile that tugged insistently at my lips. "Of course I care," I said firmly, my voice quiet yet leaving no room for argument. "You're mine now, Nymphadora."
I meant that completely literally—her soul was quite literally mine now, after all, bound eternally through the Evil Piece I'd used to resurrect her. But as I looked at her, taking in her stunned expression and the soft blush spreading across her cheeks, I knew my words affected her in a very different way as well. She stuttered slightly, stumbling in place for a moment as her blush spread quickly, turning her entire face and even the tips of her ears a vibrant scarlet.
"Oh my God—Ow!" she winced instantly, flinching and rubbing her temple with a cute pout. She shook her head, clearly frustrated. "I guess we really can't say that word anymore now that we're devils, huh?"
I chuckled softly, feeling some of my irritation melt away as I watched her. She was still adjusting, clearly, and it was oddly endearing.
She glanced up at me again, huffing softly with embarrassment and crossing her arms under her breasts defensively. "You know," she muttered, glancing away shyly, her tone adorable in its mild annoyance, "if you keep talking to women like that, Harry, you're going to have no end to all the girls falling hopelessly in love with you."
I smirked down at her as we continued walking, my mood steadily improving as I observed her blushing face. "Maybe that's exactly the point," I teased softly, nudging her gently with my elbow.
She scoffed, cheeks reddening even further as she playfully shoved my shoulder. "You're impossible, Harry Sitri," she grumbled affectionately, biting her lip softly as her eyes twinkled warmly up at me.
"And you're adorable, Nymphadora," I replied with an easy grin, savoring the soft gasp she gave at hearing her hated first name yet again.
…
I didn't particularly feel like going to any of my classes after everything that had happened, so I simply didn't go.
Being a Triwizard Champion certainly had its perks. I was allowed to skip lessons whenever I wanted, provided I was using that time to 'prepare' for the tournament.
Sitting out in one of Hogwarts' sunny courtyards with Tonks, devouring a basket of delicious, fresh-baked donuts we'd managed to pilfer from the Hogwarts kitchens—this counted as training.
Absolutely essential preparation. Definitely. I will die on this hill!
Tonks reclined lazily next to me, savoring each bite. Her hair was finally returning to its vivid, spiky pink—the sight alone was enough to lift my spirits somewhat. We exchanged small talk, our moods gradually improving with every donut.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught the unmistakable flash of vivid crimson hair against the green backdrop of Hogwarts' lawns. Turning my head, I saw Rias Gremory making her way toward us.
She looked even more stunning than I remembered. She was also currently alone, her Queen nowhere in sight. She approached me hesitantly, those bright blue eyes shyly meeting mine as she reached up nervously to brush a wayward strand of scarlet hair behind her ear. "Harry," she began softly, her voice gently hopeful. "Do you mind if we talk for a little bit?"
Tonks glanced sideways at me with a playful smirk, clearly amused at my sudden discomfort. "Go ahead, Harry," she teased lightly, stretching comfortably in the sun. "With the assassin safely caged, I'm sure Hogwarts is safe enough without me guarding you." She chuckled.
And that's how you tempt fate…
I gave her a flat, thoroughly unimpressed stare. "You're just begging the universe to prove you wrong, aren't you?"
She laughed and waved me away dismissively. "Relax. I'm just going to sit here and finish this basket of donuts in peace. After dying yesterday, I deserve some proper stress-eating alone time."
I shook my head fondly.
Tonks grabbed the entire donut basket possessively, flashing me a triumphant grin. "Have fun, Young Master," she teased lightly.
I turned back toward Rias, who watched our interaction with quiet curiosity. Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, clearly wondering what on earth all that had been about?
"I'll explain while we walk," I promised with a gentle shrug, stepping alongside her as we slowly left the courtyard. We wandered along the grassy grounds, the peaceful atmosphere helping relax some of my earlier tension. Rias walked quietly beside me, clearly nervous, but doing her best to mask it. As we walked, I explained everything that had happened earlier in Dumbledore's office. I described the discovery of Pettigrew, Ron's traitorous rat, and how it turned out he'd been one of the bastards responsible for my mother Lily's death all those years ago. I talked about Voldemort's wand, Tonks's resurrection as my new pawn, and how Tonks was currently dealing with her new devilish nature…
Rias listened intently, and then brought up an interesting question. "Was this Peter a powerful enough wizard that he was able to control a 50 foot long basilisk and send it after you…?"
I paused my step at that. No, Peter was a sniveling coward. "There was no way he'd be capable of that. At most, I'm pretty sure he was the one who had Ron try and poison me, and I think he also tried to get me eaten by our werewolf teacher…"
"Then that means there's been more than one assassin so far," Rias pointed out. "Sona also told me the story about that Chamber of Secrets thing that happened in the first few days of the school year. I wonder if this supposed Heir of Slytherin is the second assassin after you?" she asked me, as we stopped near the edge of the lake.
I was watching the water warily, just in case any crazy mermaid tried to jump out at us. Wouldn't be the first time after all.
I turned towards her, smiling faintly. "Wow, you're really smart aren't you? No wonder you're the only person who Sona regularly loses to in chess."
"Mystery visual novels are one of my absolute favorite genres," she said, her voice becoming more animated. "They're basically one conspiracy after another, and you never really know who you can trust until the very end!"
I wasn't much of a gamer myself, to be honest—I never really had time for it—but watching her passion bubble up made me feel oddly at ease. It was nice to see the gorgeous woman beside me get excited over something so normal and innocent.
"Then are you upset that Hogwarts doesn't have electricity?" I asked her curiously. "It must be torture not being able to enjoy your favorite hobby here."
At my question, Rias slumped slightly, a cute pout forming on her perfect, kissable lips. Her bright blue eyes dimmed just a little with mock sadness as she sighed dramatically. "It's definitely been difficult," she admitted ruefully, shifting her weight a bit closer to me. "But maybe this is a blessing in disguise. I can acknowledge that, over the years, I've gotten a little too attached to those games. Maybe a forced break isn't such a bad thing after all."
I raised an eyebrow at that. "Really?" I teased. "I didn't peg you as someone who'd let themselves overindulge in video games, of all things."
"You have no idea," she said playfully, nudging me lightly with her shoulder. "Though honestly, I'm not the one suffering the most. My poor bishop, Gasper, is having a much worse time of it. That boy lived almost entirely in the 2D world until I yanked him out and brought everyone here. He's been practically trembling from withdrawal ever since."
"Poor Gasper," I murmured sympathetically. "I'm sure he'll adjust eventually. This world isn't so bad, after all. At least, once you get past the giant murderous snakes and traitorous rats hiding in plain sight."
Rias giggled again, a gentle flush rising up her cheeks.
But after that, a somewhat awkward pause settled between us. Both of us remembered, at the exact same moment, the reason she'd even come to Hogwarts in the first place. It wasn't exactly for the school or the classes, and it certainly wasn't to help Gasper break his gaming addiction. It was because my mother, Serafall Leviathan, and her older brother, Sirzechs Lucifer, had arranged an engagement between us.
I shifted uncomfortably, glancing away for a moment as I tried to figure out what to say next. I knew I couldn't avoid the topic forever. But Rias surprised me, gently breaking the tense silence first.
"Harry," she began softly, the cheerful teasing from earlier replaced by a sincere, vulnerable tone. "I want to properly apologize for how yesterday went. I realize now that, when we first met, everything came crashing down on you at once—and I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me, and I feel terrible about it."
"It's okay," I said quietly, though my voice was hesitant. "It wasn't exactly your fault…"
She shook her head slightly, "Actually, Harry, it kind of was my fault." Her voice dropped, edged with quiet resentment as she went on, her vivid blue eyes hardening slightly. "I've spent years begging my brother to help me escape my previous engagement to Riser Phenex."
The venomous way she spat the name "Riser" immediately caught my attention. Clearly, there was a painful history there. She noticed my curious glance and continued reluctantly, an angry blush coloring her pale cheeks.
"Riser Phenex is… an absolute possessive asshole," Rias began sharply, her eyes narrowing in pure disdain. "I was certain that marrying him would lead to nothing but a miserable, immortal existence, probably ending with one of us killing the other." Her voice grew colder, quieter, as she leaned closer and continued in a hushed tone, "He's not just possessive, either—he's downright creepy. Most of the girls in his peerage have… suspicious circumstances around how they joined him. Let's just say he has a habit of collecting underage girls like trophies. And while the underworld doesn't strictly see that as wrong…" she hesitated, sighing as her expression shifted to something between anger and disgust. "After living so long in the human world, it's always seemed deeply wrong and creepy to me." Rias exhaled a long breath, visibly forcing herself to relax. From the tone of her voice, it felt like she could have easily gone on ranting for hours about just how much she hated the guy. Instead, she shook her head firmly, her long crimson locks cascading beautifully across her shoulders, and sighed, "But you know what? I don't even want to talk about Riser anymore. He's not my problem anymore—thankfully." She glanced back up at me, her bright blue eyes softening into a gentle expression, the fury melting away completely as she offered me a faint, hopeful smile. "Instead, I ended up getting a far better deal." Her voice had grown softer now, almost shy as she stared directly into my eyes.
My pulse quickened at her sudden intensity. I couldn't look away, trapped momentarily by her earnestness and beauty.
"So… what do you think… about us?" she asked slowly, her voice just above a whisper. There was a vulnerable pause in the middle of her sentence, as if she was bracing herself for rejection. "Do you think we can work out?"
I hesitated for a moment, carefully considering my words. But as I looked at Rias, at her beautiful face and hopeful gaze, I realized I truly did feel optimistic about the potential of our arrangement. Despite yesterday's awkwardness, she was clearly intelligent, kind-hearted, and ridiculously attractive—I was definitely lucky here.
I let my expression grow serious as I answered, my voice sincere and steady, "Yes, Rias—I genuinely think we could work out. You're interesting, intelligent, clearly a good person, and absolutely stunning. I think once we get to know each other, we'll both like what we find."
Rias's reaction was instantaneous. Her porcelain cheeks flushed deep scarlet, her eyes widening as her lips parted slightly in shy surprise. She fidgeted adorably under my direct praise, nervously tucking another errant strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly unable to meet my eyes.
Watching her reaction, I couldn't help but remember what Tonks had said earlier—that if I kept talking this way, I'd have endless girls falling in love with me.
"And I think you're very interesting, handsome, and kind as well, Harry Sitri." She tilted her head slightly, clearly teasing me back now.
I found myself automatically leaning in to kiss Rias. The movement felt completely natural—almost inevitable—as my eyes locked onto her soft, inviting lips. She stiffened briefly, blue eyes widening in shock, but she didn't pull away.
My lips touched hers, and everything around us seemed to dissolve instantly into nothingness.
Rias let out a gentle gasp as our mouths met, her full, plush lips yielding effortlessly under mine. Her body relaxed almost immediately, pressing closer as our kiss quickly deepened, shifting from soft exploration into something much more passionate. I felt the softness of her large breasts pressing firmly into my chest, their plush weight molding comfortably against me. Her slender arms slowly lifted, looping shyly around my neck, pulling me even closer.
My heart hammered fiercely inside my chest as our tongues began to move in sensual tandem. I tasted the sweetness of her lips, felt the velvety caress of her tongue brushing against my own. The kiss wasn't aggressive—it was gentle yet deeply sensual. She released small, sweet moans against my mouth, each delicate sound vibrating pleasurably into my lips.
We stood by the lakeside. Time felt suspended as we continued to kiss deeply, intimately.
Eventually, our lips parted slowly, reluctantly. As we separated, Rias opened her eyes, gazing up at me through long lashes. Her vivid blue gaze was glossy, slightly dazed—though nowhere near as hazy as Lyra, Lyna, and Hermione had looked earlier today after I'd thoroughly fucked them. There was a vast difference, after all, between kissing someone deeply and passionately and absolutely ruining them in bed—or in the shower in Hermione's case.
Still, Rias appeared beautifully flustered. "That…" she murmured shyly, blinking several times as she regained her composure. Her eyes glowed with gentle warmth and embarrassment, lips curled into a soft, bashful smile. "…was my first kiss, Harry."
My eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. "Seriously?" I asked gently, reaching up to gently brush a strand of crimson hair from her flushed face. I smiled playfully down at her. "Then I'm deeply honored, Rias."
She rolled her eyes slightly, her shy smile widening into a playful smirk. "My first kiss with a boy, at least," she amended softly. Her voice dropped lower, slightly teasing now. "I suppose that's an important distinction to make."
I chuckled lightly, genuinely amused and intrigued by her subtle implication. "You were pretty good yourself," I said with a warm smile, leaning slightly closer, voice lowering to match her playful tone. "Does this mean you've been practicing with a girl? Perhaps your lovely queen, Akeno?"
Rias laughed softly as she glanced coyly away for a second before meeting my eyes again. "Maybe," she teased again. "Akeno certainly never complains when we 'practice'."
My pulse quickened at the delightful mental image, but I forced myself to stay composed—at least outwardly.
I realized with sudden clarity that yes, this marriage between us could definitely work out—in more ways than one.
Our moment was interrupted abruptly by the heavy sound of angry footsteps echoing across the grass nearby.
I turned my head, spotting Amelia Bones storming across the Hogwarts grounds. Several Aurors trailed closely behind her, expressions tense, their dark robes fluttering around them as they moved swiftly.
Amelia herself looked positively furious. Her large, full breasts bounced rhythmically beneath the tight confines of her Ministry robes with every hurried, irritated step she took. In one hand, she gripped a cage so tightly her knuckles were white. Inside, the small, filthy rat form of Peter Pettigrew cowered, letting out occasional shrill squeaks of panic.
Curiosity and concern immediately seized me. "Come on," I urged Rias quickly, grasping her soft, delicate hand as I hurried to catch up.
"Madam Bones!" I called as we approached, finally getting close enough to see the clear irritation burning in Amelia's eyes. She turned her head sharply at the sound of my voice, tense muscles immediately relaxing just a fraction once she saw it was only me.
"Harry," she acknowledged curtly, her voice clipped yet not unfriendly. Her gaze softened just slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching upward into a strained smile. "I should've expected you'd come running after seeing this one again," she added, giving the rat cage a rough, disdainful shake. Pettigrew squeaked again, louder, desperate.
I glanced pointedly toward the cage and asked bluntly, "I take it you've been brought fully up to speed about who this disgusting little rat really is?"
Her eyes darkened grimly, jaw tightening visibly. "Oh yes," Amelia replied sharply, venom dripping from her words as she stared down in contempt. "And trust me, Mr. Sitri, once this miserable excuse for a wizard stands trial, I intend to personally ensure he faces the full force of wizarding law. He'll get exactly what's coming to him."
The rat let out another pathetic squeal of protest, trembling inside the cage.
"What exactly happened?" I pressed cautiously. "Why are you all storming through the grounds right now?"
One of the Aurors behind Amelia, a young man with short-cropped brown hair, quickly spoke up. "We were mid-interrogation back in Dumbledore's office when Pettigrew managed to pull another wand from somewhere hidden in his robes. The coward blew up the Floo fireplace before we could restrain him. It was a desperate attempt to prevent us from transporting him immediately back to the Ministry!"
Amelia snorted harshly, her lips curling with clear disgust. "Cowardly little shit," she growled irritably, glaring daggers at the cowering rat. But after a second, her fierce expression softened slightly. "It's just a mild inconvenience, though. Once we're clear of Hogwarts' anti-apparition wards, we'll simply apparate back to the Ministry. Pettigrew here can delay his trial all he likes, but justice will be served one way or another."
The rat whimpered pitifully again at her ominous words.
Then Amelia turned her sharp eyes toward me again. "By the way, Mr. Sitri, isn't your guard—Auror Nymphadora Tonks—supposed to be accompanying you right now?" Her voice took on a lightly scolding edge, almost motherly. "Given recent events, you shouldn't be wandering around alone."
"Tonks is resting," I explained quickly yet gently, understanding Amelia's justified concern. "After what happened, we figured it was safe enough to let her recover a bit. Besides, Pettigrew here was the assassin who'd been targeting me. With him caught, things should be calm now, right?"
I decided to leave out our theory about the Heir of Slytherin. That was only a theory so far, and it was not confirmed. But then again a giant snake had tried to kill me, so maybe it was confirmed?
Amelia considered my explanation carefully before finally chuckling softly, shaking her head in resignation. "I suppose that's true," she admitted dryly. "I just hope there aren't any other maniacs running about who've decided to kill you, Mr. Sitri."
I winced inwardly, mentally groaning. Seriously? What is it with Aurors and their terrible habit of tempting fate? Did none of them realize their words practically invited disaster?
And as if the universe itself had been waiting precisely for that cursed invitation, the air around us suddenly changed. A chill instantly cut through the warmth of the day, sharp and piercing enough to steal the breath from my lungs.
I exhaled in shock, watching wide-eyed as my breath fogged visibly in the air in front of my face. Goosebumps erupted across my skin. Amelia and her Aurors immediately froze in place, hands dropping instinctively to grasp their wands.
Pettigrew's cage rattled violently as the rat scrabbled frantically at the bars.
Rias squeezed my hand tighter, her grip soft yet firm, pulling close to me instinctively. She leaned toward me. She whispered urgently into my ear.
"Harry… I sense something incredibly foul approaching. It's demonic," she warned me.
I had a feeling I knew exactly what she was sensing because I had met these abominations before.
As if on cue, I saw over a dozen Dementors glide silently toward the invisible boundary surrounding Hogwarts. Their black cloaks fluttered ominously, hovering just outside the wards.
Beneath their shadowy hoods, I couldn't see their eyes—but I could absolutely feel the palpable waves of hate radiating straight toward me and Rias. It was like icy fingers scraping along the back of my neck.
They were demons, after all—ancient enemies of devils. The mutual animosity was primal, instinctive.
Beside me, Rias tensed, gripping my hand with sudden intensity.
The Aurors around us reacted with confusion at first, then disbelief turned to shock and horror as the Dementors passed straight through the wards without any resistance. They didn't even slow down for a fraction of a second.
"Holy shit," one of the younger Aurors gasped. "How the hell did they get in? The wards should've stopped them!"
I couldn't help but agree internally. Someone seriously fucked up the design of Hogwarts' protective wards if literal demons could waltz right in.
Rias squeezed my hand harder, her voice trembling slightly, "Harry… those things are demons. Actual demons! There's like twenty of them heading directly for us!"
As a mostly sheltered Devil Princess, she'd obviously never run into any of their kind before.
I squeezed her hand back reassuringly, murmuring under my breath, "Well, at least as far as demons go, Dementors aren't especially strong. They're mostly just dangerous in numbers."
Before Rias could respond, Amelia Bones stepped forward. Her expression was twisted into fury as she raised her voice sharply, projecting clearly across the grounds. "I am Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement! You are violating the explicit agreement between Azkaban and the Ministry of Magic!" She glared fiercely, wand held high and steady. "How dare you trespass onto Hogwarts grounds uninvited!"
One Dementor, the leader presumably, glided forward slightly ahead of the others. When it spoke, its voice was harsh and rasping, like dead leaves rustling across a gravestone. It made my skin crawl.
"Silence, food," it hissed. "We have come for our ancient foes. After we finish with them, we shall feast upon the souls of EVERYONE nearby in celebration."
All the Dementors around it began letting out eerie, bone-chilling laughter. I hadn't even realized Dementors could express any emotion, let alone twisted pleasure, but there was no mistaking the dark glee radiating from them.
In a split second, they moved, surging toward us with a surprising burst of speed.
One Auror panicked, wand trembling in his grasp. "Shit! I don't know the Patronus Charm!"
"I didn't sign up for this!" another shouted in terror. He turned on his heel and ran blindly in the opposite direction!
"Get back here!" Amelia roared after him, desperation tinging her voice. She whipped her wand upward, silver light erupting from the tip. "Expecto Patronum!"
A brilliant, silvery falcon exploded into existence, circling Amelia protectively. But the fleeing Auror ignored her, continuing to sprint away.
I watched as three Dementors instantly broke off from the main group and soared toward the fleeing Auror. He never stood a chance. They descended upon him like vultures, slamming him brutally to the ground. His terrified scream cut off abruptly as one Dementor roughly flipped him over onto his back. Another Dementor immediately lowered its hooded head toward his face.
My stomach twisted violently as, due to my devilish nature, I physically felt the horrifying moment the Dementor devoured his soul. It was nauseating—a sharp, ripping sensation that echoed through my very being. I'd never experienced something so utterly revolting.
Gritting my teeth, I turned urgently to Rias, knowing we couldn't afford to hold back now. "There's no choice, Rias—we go all out."
She nodded firmly, her resolve clear despite the fear flashing in her blue eyes. Together, we raised our hands, immediately summoning our respective clan's magic circles.
My blue Sitri Clan magic circle flared vividly in front of me, glowing brightly as I channeled my magic. At the same moment, Rias manifested her crimson-red Gremory Clan circle, the fiery symbol burning brilliantly before her.
The air shimmered powerfully around us, crackling with our magical power.
The Dementors hesitated briefly, sensing the powerful devilish magic we were preparing. Their leader snarled in fury, bony fingers clawing impatiently at the air.
"Kill them!" it rasped furiously.
Damn, yesterday it was a giant snake and today it was a small army of demons. I almost wondered what was going to happen tomorrow, but unlike the Aurors I didn't want to chance it…
XXX