Chapter 71:
– Harry Sitri –
The familiar pressure of teleportation released me with a soft pop, and my shoes settled onto a patch of frost-stiffened grass.
Cold English air struck my face. Gray clouds covered the sky, the houses were packed together in painfully tidy rows, and somewhere nearby a lawn mower coughed to life despite the fact that it was the middle of winter.
Privet Drive looked exactly as I remembered it. Small. Dull. Oppressively normal.
Lilja appeared beside me in a swirl of demonic power, followed a moment later by Ravel. My Queen slowly turned in place, taking in the identical brick houses, carefully trimmed hedges, and narrow driveways filled with sensible family cars.
Her nose wrinkled. "This plane hasn't changed at all since my first life," she said. "It's still hideously plain."
"I think it's rather nice," Ravel said.
She hugged her arms beneath her chest and gazed down the street with an expression that was far too fond for someone looking at one of the most boring neighborhoods in Britain.
Lilja immediately glanced at her. "You only think that because Dudley lives here."
Ravel's cheeks turned pink. "That has nothing to do with it."
"Of course not," Lilja said solemnly. "Your admiration for identical brick houses is entirely architectural."
Ravel huffed and looked away, but that only made her stare more intently toward Number Four.
I chuckled. "I'm with Lilja. I didn't exactly have many good memories of this place."
Lilja's amusement disappeared.
She looked at me sharply, and I felt the anger stirring through our peerage bond before it appeared on her face.
I shoved my hands into my pockets as we started walking. "Things got better after I turned sixteen, at least. When I never received a Hogwarts letter, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon decided I wasn't magical after all. They started treating me nicer after that."
Lilja stopped. I made it several steps before realizing neither she nor Ravel was beside me anymore. When I looked back, Ravel appeared uncomfortable.
Lilja looked murderous. A low growl rumbled in her throat. "That," Lilja said, "is something I intend to remind my dear sister about."
I gave her a crooked smile. "That is if seeing you alive doesn't give Petunia a heart attack first."
"I'm not Lily anymore."
"No, but you do have her face, her soul, and enough of her memories to know exactly which childhood nickname Petunia hates."
Lilja's lips curved into a vicious smile. "Tuny."
"That's the one."
Ravel shifted impatiently beside her. Her gaze had returned to the houses ahead, and her fingers kept smoothing the front of her clothes before immediately beginning again. She was trying to maintain the dignity expected of a Phenex heiress, but the closer we came to Number Four, the faster nervous energy burned through her composure.
She wanted to see Dudley. More than that, she needed to know he was safe.
I understood. Four days without hearing from him must have felt like an eternity when the last time she had seen him involved Vernon shooting her. I doubted she would be satisfied until Dudley was standing in front of her, preferably close enough for her to inspect every inch of him for injuries.
"Come on," I said. "Let's get your LARGE boyfriend."
Ravel's attention snapped toward me. "He is not—" She caught my grin and narrowed her eyes. "You're teasing me."
"A little."
Lilja slipped her hands behind her back as she walked. "You do mention his… muscles… quite frequently."
"I have mentioned them an entirely reasonable number of times." Ravel groaned. Her embarrassment distracted her until we rounded the corner and Number Four came into view.
The house looked unchanged. The same neat hedge enclosed the garden. The same pristine windows reflected the colorless sky. Even the brass number on the front door seemed to have been polished recently.
Ravel drew a sharp breath beside me. "He's in there," she whispered.
I glanced at her. "Can you sense him?"
"No. I just…" Her eyes remained fixed on the upstairs windows. "I know he is."
Lilja's expression softened briefly before she turned toward the house again.
We crossed the front garden. Ravel stayed so close to me that our sleeves brushed, while Lilja walked on my other side with the calm purpose of someone approaching an execution.
I climbed the front step and knocked firmly. "Open up, Aunt Petunia! Uncle Vernon!" I called. "It's me!"
Something moved behind the frosted glass.
Locks clicked in quick succession. I barely had time to wonder why Petunia was opening the door so eagerly before it suddenly swung inward.
Cold liquid splashed directly into my face.
I blinked.
Water ran down my hair, across my eyes, and along the collar of my shirt. Most of it struck me harmlessly, but several droplets flew sideways and landed on Ravel's cheek and exposed hand.
They sizzled.
Ravel hissed and recoiled, clutching her hand against her chest as thin trails of steam rose from her reddening skin.
Every trace of humor vanished from me. Holy water.
Aunt Petunia stood in the doorway with a plastic bottle clutched in both hands. She wore a stiff floral blouse and a cardigan buttoned all the way to her throat. Her narrow face was pinched with fear and disgust. She stared at me. Then at the bottle. "...Why didn't that work!?" she demanded. She shook the container and peered suspiciously at its contents. "Did that priest lie to me? Did he scam me with fake holy water!?"
I slowly wiped the water from my eyes. It had been real. The burns on Ravel proved that much.
Fortunately, holy energy no longer harmed me. Unfortunately for Aunt Petunia, dumping it over my companion was a remarkably effective way to put me in a foul mood.
Before I could speak, Lilja stepped forward. "You've got some nerve, Tuny."
Petunia froze. All the color drained from her face.
Lilja's emerald eyes burned with fury as she positioned herself between Petunia and Ravel. Her demonic power remained contained, but rage rolled through our bond. "I always knew you were a frigid bitch," Lilja continued, "but dumping holy water on your own nephew is despicable, even for you."
Petunia's mouth fell open. Her eyes traveled over Lilja's face, lingering on her red hair, her eyes, and every familiar feature that should have belonged to a woman dead for sixteen years. The bottle slipped in her grip. "No," she breathed.
Lilja tilted her head. "Hello, Petunia."
"...No!" Petunia stumbled backward. "That's impossible."
Behind her, I glimpsed the immaculate hallway and the framed family photographs arranged along the wall. Dudley appeared in nearly every one. There were no pictures of me.
Some things truly didn't change.
"My sister is dead," Petunia whispered. Her voice rose with every word. "Lily is dead. You're not her. This is some kind of trick."
"Petunia—"
"I won't fall for your evil ways!" she shrieked.
The door slammed shut in all our faces.
Silence descended over the front step.
I stared at the white door.
Lilja stared at the white door.
Ravel, still cradling her burned hand, stared at the white door.
From somewhere inside the house came the frantic scraping of locks being shoved back into place.
I slowly exhaled.
"Well," I said, wiping another trail of holy water from my chin. "That went about the way I expected... And Petunia doesn't even know the two of us are fucking yet."
Lilja rolled her eyes playfully at me, before asking me and Ravel to step aside. She raised her foot and kicked the door, HARD. No matter how many locks Petunia had invested in, they weren't enough to stop my Queen's kick from ripping the door off the hinges and sending it flying across the living room.
It smashed through a side table, scattered several ceramic ornaments across the carpet, and embedded one corner in the wall beneath a framed photograph of Dudley winning a boxing match.
Petunia screamed.
Ravel stared past Lilja in disbelief.
I glanced at the ruined entrance. "I think you knocked too hard."
"I knocked exactly as hard as I intended." Lilja lowered her leg and stepped through the empty doorway. "Petunia refused to invite us inside."
I followed her into the house, with Ravel remaining close behind me. A small burst of golden fire passed over Ravel's hand and cheek, healing the burns left by the holy water, but the flames did nothing to soften her expression. She looked furious enough to turn Number Four into a funeral pyre.
Petunia had retreated into the living room. She stood behind the couch, clutching the empty bottle against her chest as she stared at Lilja. "You stay away from me!"
Lilja calmly stepped over the shattered remains of one of Petunia's porcelain figurines. "You're the one who assaulted my King."
"Your—" Petunia's eyes snapped toward me. "What have you done to him?"
"Nothing Harry hasn't enthusiastically asked me to do."
I coughed into my fist.
Ravel's lips twitched despite her anxiety.
Petunia looked as though she had bitten into a lemon. "You filthy—"
A heavy footstep sounded from the hallway. "Get away from my wife!" Vernon charged into the room carrying another shotgun.
For one absurd moment, I could only stare at him.
He looked older than the last time I had seen him. There was more gray in his hair, his face appeared even redder than I remembered, and the vein in his forehead was already pulsing dangerously. He wore a dressing gown over his clothes, with a string of wooden prayer beads wrapped several times around one wrist.
The shotgun looked entirely strange. Symbols had been scratched into the barrel. A tiny silver cross hung beneath it, and white powder had been packed around the shells where they rested inside the open chambers.
Vernon saw me. His eyes bulged. Then he saw Ravel standing behind me. "You!" he roared.
Ravel's flames erupted more violently around her fingers.
Vernon swung the gun toward her.
Lilja moved first. Demonic power gathered around her hand, so dense and lethal that every window in the room rattled. Her fury surged through our bond with a single clear promise.
Vernon Dursley was about to die.
"Lilja, don't!" I shouted.
The shotgun discharged.
I stepped between Vernon and the others as a circle of water formed in front of me. The blast struck it with enough force to send ripples across the entire shield.
Dozens of metal pellets stopped inside the water.
Each one had been packed in blessed salt and etched with tiny holy symbols. I closed my hand. The water collapsed around the pellets, crushing them together into a warped lump of metal that dropped onto the carpet with a wet thud.
Everyone stared at it.
Vernon's face slowly turned purple. "The priest promised those shells would kill demons."
"That priest sounds like a lovely man," I said. "Did you tell him you planned to shoot your own nephew?"
"You're not my nephew! Not anymore!" Vernon broke the shotgun open and fumbled for another pair of shells. "You're one of them!"
A ribbon of water snapped around the weapon and ripped it from his hands. I sent it flying into the wall hard enough to bend the barrel.
Vernon gaped at me.
I crossed the distance between us before he could retreat, caught the front of his dressing gown, and lifted him until his slippers left the carpet.
He was still a large man. I was much stronger. "What did you do to Dudley?"
Vernon's fear briefly overcame his rage. His eyes flicked toward the staircase.
Ravel saw it. "Where is he?" she demanded.
"Safe from you!"
Fire erupted around her body. The temperature inside the room climbed so quickly that frost vanished from the windows. Brilliant golden wings spread from Ravel's back as she marched toward Vernon. "You shot me," she said, her voice trembling with rage. "You destroyed the circle he used to contact me, imprisoned him for four days, and now you dare claim that you are protecting him?"
"He's our son!"
"He is my boyfriend!"
Petunia made a strangled noise.
Vernon stared at Ravel as though her words were even more horrifying than the flames surrounding her. "You corrupted him! You bewitched him!"
"I did not need to bewitch him!" Ravel's wings flared behind her. "And Dudley is not some mindless child incapable of choosing whom he loves!"
Vernon's expression twisted with disgust. "Love? You think my son loves some demonic whore?"
Ravel's fire turned white.
Lilja's killing intent struck an instant later.
The pressure dropped Vernon back onto the floor, although I kept my fist closed around his dressing gown. Cracks spread across the plaster beneath Lilja's feet as she stared at him with cold green eyes.
Even Petunia seemed to understand that her husband had just made a catastrophic mistake.
Vernon swallowed.
Lilja took one step forward. "Dudley asked Ravel not to kill you," I said quietly. Vernon's gaze jerked toward me. "That is the only reason you survived the first time you shot her. It's also the reason you're going to survive today." I pulled him closer until his face was inches from mine. "We respect Dudley's wishes more than you do."
A muffled crash came from upstairs. Ravel's head snapped toward the ceiling. Another crash followed. Then a familiar voice shouted from somewhere above us. "RAVEL!"
Every flame around her vanished. "Dudley?"
"Ravel!"
She ran.
Vernon grabbed for her as she passed, but I threw him onto the couch before he could touch her. Petunia hurried to his side while Lilja and I followed Ravel into the hallway.
She reached the staircase and took the first three steps at once.
Golden light flashed.
A lattice of holy power appeared across the stairway, and the resulting blast hurled Ravel backward.
I caught her around the waist before she struck the wall. Smoke rose from the front of her clothes. Angry red burns had appeared across her arms and collarbone.
"Ravel!" Dudley roared from upstairs.
"I'm all right!" she shouted, even as she trembled in my arms.
She clearly wasn't, but Phenex flames were already crawling across her wounds.
I looked toward the staircase.
Thin strips of parchment had been nailed to both walls. Lines of Latin scripture covered them in dark red ink, and silver wire stretched beneath the carpet from one side of the hall to the other. Tiny wooden crosses hung from the banister.
The ward had remained hidden until Ravel attempted to cross it.
Now that it was active, holy light filled the hallway. It wasn't the improvised work of a frightened family who had read a few pages of scripture. The individual components had been placed with precision, and several of the symbols belonged to proper Church exorcism rituals.
Lilja extended one hand toward the barrier. The ward flared brighter. She hissed and pulled her hand back. A smoking line had been burned across her palm.
"This is a genuine Holy Ward," she said.
"No shit," Ravel snapped. She pulled away from me and rushed toward the staircase again.
I caught the back of her dress.
"LET ME GO!"
"You'll only be thrown back."
"He's up there!"
"I know."
"Then remove it!" Her flames surged around us as panic overwhelmed her usual dignity. She tried to pull away, but I turned her around and gripped both of her shoulders.
"Ravel, look at me."
She finally met my eyes.
"I'm going to get Dudley," I promised. "But if you keep throwing yourself at that barrier, you'll be unconscious before I bring him down."
"Harry!" Dudley shouted. "Is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me!"
"Get Ravel out of here! Dad has a gun!"
"Your dad's gun is currently bent in half."
There was a pause. "Oh… Good." I heard another impact upstairs, followed by the unmistakable sound of Dudley swearing as something resisted him.
"What are they doing to you?" Ravel called.
"I'm locked in my room. There's something across the bloody door. Every time I try to force it open, it throws me back."
I looked more closely at the ward.
The barrier across the stairs was merely its outer perimeter. Lines of holy power ran through the walls and converged on the floor above us. Whoever had installed this had not simply been trying to keep devils out of Number Four.
They had built an isolation ward around Dudley.
Petunia spoke up with a hiss. "Our son was under demonic influence," she insisted. "Father Morris said isolation would weaken the creature's control."
Ravel turned toward her so quickly that I had to tighten my grip. "You locked him inside a Church ward?"
"It was for his own good!"
"For four days?"
"We brought him food," Petunia said defensively.
"Which I stopped eating two days ago!" Dudley shouted from upstairs. "It had holy water in it! It tasted awful!"
Ravel's body ignited again. I released her shoulders only to wrap an arm around her waist when she tried to charge Petunia.
Lilja's expression became frighteningly blank. "You put holy water in your son's food?" she asked.
"Father Morris said it would cleanse him."
"He also said Dudley would become rational once the demon's influence weakened," Vernon growled. "Instead, the ungrateful little bastard kept demanding we let him contact her."
"Because I love her!" Dudley yelled. The words echoed through the house.
Ravel stopped struggling. Every trace of anger vanished from her face, replaced by naked longing.
Vernon looked sick.
I looked back at the ward before the situation became violent again.
The design was clever. The outer barrier prevented a devil from reaching Dudley, while the inner circle identified Dudley as the contaminated subject. If he attempted to leave, the ward forced him back inside. Destroying the outer anchors with demonic power would cause the stored holy energy to collapse toward the center.
Toward Dudley.
Ravel noticed my expression. "Can you break it?"
"Not from here."
"What does that mean?"
"It means the ward was designed to punish a demon trying to force its way through. If you or Lilja destroy it, all that power will be discharged into Dudley's room."
The color drained from her face.
"But I can cross holy barriers," I continued. "It can't hurt me."
Lilja studied the glowing symbols. "Once you're inside the inner circle, you can remove its physical anchors without triggering the collapse."
"That's the idea." I stepped onto the first stair. Holy light surged around my leg. The power searched for something to burn, found nothing vulnerable, and dissolved against my skin like sunlight across water.
Behind me, Petunia gasped.
I continued upward.
The ward grew stronger with every step. Golden-white energy filled the staircase until the walls disappeared behind it, but I felt nothing beyond a faint warmth. At the landing, I passed through a final curtain of power and found the upper hallway covered in even more scripture.
Dudley's bedroom door had been reinforced with iron bars bolted into the walls. Red thread and silver wire formed a complex circle across its surface, centered upon a small glass vial filled with blood.
Dudley's blood, presumably.
There were dark stains on the carpet and fresh dents in the door.
"Stand back," I called.
"I've been standing back for four bloody days!"
"Stand farther back."
I heard him mutter several insults, followed by the creak of his bed as he dragged it away from the door.
I crouched beside the threshold.
The ward had six physical anchors. Four iron nails had been driven through the corners of the doorframe, while the remaining two were hidden beneath the carpet. The inscriptions were intended to make supernatural beings focus on the glowing circle and miss the simpler structure holding it together.
I pulled the first nail free.
Holy light sputtered.
Downstairs, Ravel called my name.
"I'm fine!"
The second nail came out more easily. The third burned through the wooden floorboards when I removed it, but the power curled harmlessly around my hand.
By the time I reached the final anchor, the entire hallway was shaking.
I tore the last iron spike from beneath the carpet.
The ward shattered.
Golden light burst outward, passed through my body, and dissolved into thousands of bright sparks. The silver wires fell loose. Every strip of parchment blackened simultaneously before crumbling into ash.
Something heavy struck the other side of the door.
"Dudley?"
"Can I come out now?"
I tested the handle.
It was still locked.
Apparently Petunia and Vernon had not trusted divine power to accomplish what an ordinary key could do.
I ripped the handle out.
Dudley shoved the door open from the other side.
My cousin looked terrible.
He had lost weight during the four days he had been confined, though he was still built like someone who could punch through a wall if given sufficient motivation. Dark circles surrounded his eyes. His hair was unwashed, his shirt was stained, and both of his hands were wrapped in makeshift bandages spotted with blood.
He stared at me. "Harry?"
"Hello, Dudley."
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Our relationship had improved during the last few years before I left Privet Drive, but we had never become particularly comfortable with affection. Dudley solved the dilemma by grabbing my shoulders and pulling me into a crushing hug. "You came."
"Ravel asked me to."
He immediately released me. "Where is she?"
"Downstairs."
Dudley pushed past me.
He had taken only two steps when his knees nearly buckled. I caught his arm, but he shoved me away with a glare.
"I can walk."
"You've barely eaten."
"I can still walk."
I decided not to argue.
Dudley descended the staircase so quickly that he nearly fell twice. Ravel waited beneath the ruined ward with both hands clenched against her chest.
They saw each other.
Dudley stopped halfway down.
Ravel stared up at him. Her lips parted, but no sound emerged.
Dudley ran the rest of the way down and pulled her against him.
Ravel buried her face in his chest and wrapped both arms around his waist. Golden wings burst from her back, curling around them protectively as if she intended to hide Dudley from the entire world.
He held her just as tightly.
Dudley kissed the top of her head. Then her forehead. Then he cupped her face in his bandaged hands and kissed her properly.
Ravel rose onto her toes to meet him.
The kiss wasn't graceful. Both of them were crying, Dudley looked ready to collapse, and Ravel kept interrupting herself to touch his shoulders, face, and chest as though she needed to confirm that every part of him remained intact.
Neither of them cared that the rest of us were watching.
I had seen Ravel embarrassed whenever she admitted how strongly she felt about Dudley. There was no embarrassment in her now. There was only relief and fierce, desperate affection.
When the kiss finally ended, she immediately seized one of his wrists.
"Your hands are all messed up."
"I punched the door a lot..."
"Why?"
"I was trying to get to you."
Her angry expression softened. "That was extremely foolish." Phenex fire flowed from her fingers and passed over Dudley's bandages. His eyes widened as golden flames consumed the cloth without burning him. The cuts beneath it closed, bruising disappeared, and the swelling around his knuckles faded.
Dudley flexed his healed fingers. "That still feels strange."
"You will grow accustomed to it." Ravel raised his hand to her cheek. Dudley stroked his thumb beneath one of her eyes, wiping away a tear.
"You came back for me," he said.
"Of course I did."
"After Dad shot you…"
"I told you before. Shotguns are not especially threatening to a Phenex."
Dudley looked over her head at me. "Is that true?"
"Phenex regeneration is absurd," I said. "You're girl is one of the toughest girls in the underworld…"
Ravel's cheeks colored.
Despite everything, Dudley laughed. It was exhausted and unsteady, but Ravel looked at him as though it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.
That was when I understood.
I had known Ravel cared about him. I had believed her story, and I had agreed to help because Dudley was my cousin. Some small part of me had still wondered whether this was merely the intensity of a first romance—one lonely noble girl and one lonely human boy mistaking novelty for something permanent.
Watching them together destroyed that doubt.
Dudley looked at Ravel with the same mixture of relief, fear, and devotion I felt whenever someone I loved returned safely from danger. Ravel held him as if letting go would mean losing him again.
Whatever unexpected path had brought the two of them together, their feelings were real.
Vernon apparently reached the opposite conclusion. "You get away from that thing, Dudley!" he ordered.
Dudley's arms tightened around Ravel. "She has a name."
"I don't care what it calls itself."
"Her name is Ravel!"
"She's poisoned your mind!"
Dudley slowly turned to face his father.
Ravel remained against his chest, one arm wrapped around his waist and her wings spread behind them.
"No," Dudley said. "You're just angry because she helped me use it…"
– Lilja Nornas –
"No," Dudley said. "You're just angry because she helped me use it."
Lilja could admit she had a good first impression of her nephew, although that didn't mean she completely liked him because she also knew he used to bully Harry when they were a lot younger.
Ravel remained tucked against his side, one arm firmly around his waist. Dudley looked exhausted enough to collapse, but he stood between Ravel and his parents without hesitation.
Vernon opened his mouth, presumably to shout something even more hateful, but Petunia spoke first. "What are you?"
Lilja turned toward her sister.
Petunia was no longer looking at Ravel. She barely seemed aware of her husband and son arguing beside her. Her eyes remained fixed upon Lilja. "You can't be Lily," Petunia whispered. "Lily died."
"Yes," Lilja said. "She did."
Petunia flinched.
Lilja could feel Harry watching her. His presence lingered at the edge of her senses through their peerage bond, warm, powerful, and reassuring. He did not intervene. He understood that this confrontation belonged to her.
At least for the moment.
Petunia shook her head violently. "Then you admit it. You're some kind of demon wearing her face!"
"No."
"...A changeling," Petunia continued, seizing upon the explanation. "That's what you are. One of those things from the stories. You replaced my sister when we were children, didn't you? That's why she could do those horrible, unnatural things."
Lilja stared at her. Even after two lives, Petunia could still find new ways to disappoint her. "Lily Evans was not a changeling," Lilja said. "She was not a devil, a demon, or anything else you've spent the last 20 years blaming for your miserable personality. She was a human witch."
"She was a freak!"
Harry's magic stirred. Water began trembling inside a vase on the side table. Moisture condensed across the walls, gathering into tiny droplets as his demonic power responded to his anger.
Lilja lifted one hand without looking at him.
The water settled.
She did not need Harry defending Lily Evans from Petunia. She had waited two lifetimes to do that herself. "Lily was your sister," Lilja said. "She loved you despite your jealousy, your bitterness, and every hateful letter you ever sent her. She died protecting her son from a monster."
Petunia's eyes flicked toward Harry, and then back to her. "That's impossible. You can't be alive again!"
"Impossible things happened around us constantly, Tuny. You were simply too frightened and spiteful to admit it."
"Don't call me that."
"Why? You used to like it."
"I never liked it!"
"You did until you were nine. Then Mum used it in front of the boy who lived three houses down, and he laughed at you."
Petunia went still.
Lilja stepped closer. "You cried behind the shed for nearly an hour. When I found you, you made me swear never to call you Tuny in front of anyone again. Then you wiped your nose on my sleeve because you hadn't brought a handkerchief."
Petunia's lips parted.
Vernon looked between them in confusion.
"That proves nothing," Petunia said, although her voice had become unsteady. "Harry could have told you."
"Harry wasn't even born yet."
"You could have torn the memory out of my head."
"If I had searched your mind, I would have found something less embarrassing." Lilja continued forward until only a few feet separated them. "The following summer, you climbed through the broken window of the old greenhouse because Mum told us not to play inside it. You cut your left knee on the glass. I carried you home and told Mum that I had dared you to climb inside so she wouldn't punish you."
Petunia unconsciously touched the side of her knee through her skirt.
"You promised you would take the blame the next time we got into trouble," Lilja said. "You never did."
For a few seconds, Number Four became completely silent.
Petunia stared into Lilja's eyes as denial slowly lost its grip on her face. Her gaze traveled over Lilja's red hair, her cheekbones, and the features they had both inherited from their mother.
"Lily?" she whispered.
The name struck something deep inside her.
Images surfaced that did not belong entirely to Lilja.
Two little girls lying beneath a tree beside the river.
Petunia holding Lily's hand during a thunderstorm.
Shared sweets beneath a blanket after bedtime.
A wedding invitation returned without an answer.
The memories hurt, but they no longer controlled her. Lily Evans had loved Petunia. Some stubborn fragment of that love remained embedded in Lilja's soul.
It was surrounded by a century of experience Petunia would never understand. "My name is Lilja," she said.
Petunia recoiled as though she had been struck.
"Lily Evans died that night in Godric's Hollow. Her body died, at least. Her soul survived and was reincarnated. I lived another life, became someone new, and eventually recovered Lily's memories. And I have a NEW sister now! A much better big sister than you ever were!" It was the truth, Lilja loved Roseweisse far more than Lily ever loved Tuny…
Petunia looked like she'd been slapped with that final revelation.
Lilja held out her hand. Harry took it immediately.
Petunia stared at their joined hands. Petunia's face tightened. "What has he done to you?"
Lilja nearly laughed.
Petunia truly could not imagine anyone choosing a life she did not approve of. Lily's magic had been corruption. Harry's demonic heritage was corruption. Dudley loving Ravel was corruption. Anything beyond Petunia's narrow understanding had to be the result of someone else's influence.
"Harry did not do anything to me," Lilja said. "I chose to become his Queen."
"His queen?"
"A devil's peerage is organized around chess pieces," Ravel explained. Her tone remained perfectly civil, although she held Dudley more tightly whenever Vernon glared at her. "A Queen is typically the King's most versatile and powerful servant. Although, usually, most Kings and Queens have deeper relationships…"
Petunia's expression twisted with revulsion. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Lilja said, enjoying every word, "that Harry and I are lovers."
Petunia stared at her.
Vernon stared at her.
Lilja allowed the silence to stretch. "I am also going to be one of his wives."
Petunia made a thin, strangled sound.
Vernon's face went slack with horror.
Dudley blinked several times before looking at Harry. "You're marrying your mother?"
"She's not exactly—" Harry began.
Lilja rolled her eyes, knowing Harry was adorably fumbling his explanation. "Lily was his mother," Lilja said. "I am Lilja. The distinction is significant."
"It doesn't sound significant!" Petunia shrieked.
"That sounds like your problem."
"You're sick!"
"No. I'm happier than I have been in either of my lives!"
Petunia pointed a shaking finger at Harry. "He corrupted you!"
"Harry was 19 years old before we met."
"Then you corrupted him!"
Lilja sighed. There was clearly only one way to make her point. She caught Harry by the front of his formal jacket and pulled him down.
His surprise lasted less than a second. Their mouths met. Lilja kissed him deeply, deliberately, and with far more enthusiasm than the situation strictly required. Harry's hands found her waist as naturally as if they were alone in their bedroom. He pulled her against him, and a satisfied thrill traveled through their bond when she parted his lips with her tongue.
Petunia gasped.
Vernon choked.
Dudley muttered, "Bloody hell."
Lilja ignored all of them. Part of the kiss was a performance. She wanted to scandalize Petunia. She wanted to obliterate the image of meek little Lily Evans returning from the dead to beg her older sister for approval.
Most of it, however, was entirely sincere.
Harry was hers. She loved him with the fierce instincts of the mother she had once been, the loyalty of his Queen, and the desire of the woman she had become. Those feelings existed together. Lilja had stopped pretending that one invalidated the others.
When she finally released him, Harry appeared pleased, slightly dazed, and entirely unashamed.
Lilja wiped a trace of moisture from the corner of his mouth with her thumb. "That part," she told Petunia, "is new."
"You're disgusting," Petunia whispered.
"So you keep saying." Lilja smiled without humor.
"He is no nephew of ours!" Vernon shouted.
Harry flinched. It was subtle. Most people in the room probably missed it, but Lilja felt the wound open through their bond. Harry had faced monsters. He possessed several families who loved him now, women who would burn worlds for him, and more power than Vernon Dursley could comprehend. Some part of him was still the little boy in the cupboard.
Lilja slipped her hand into his and squeezed.
Harry returned the pressure.
"Don't talk about him like that," Dudley said.
Vernon rounded upon his son. "You stay out of this! You've caused enough trouble already!"
"I caused trouble?" Dudley demanded. "You shot Ravel!"
"She invaded our home!"
"I summoned her!"
"She bewitched you!"
"She answered my questions! She told me the truth about Harry when you and Mum wouldn't!"
Petunia stiffened. "We were protecting you…"
"You lied to me. You told me Harry had become a monster. You told me devils had taken him and changed him. You intercepted his letters so I couldn't speak to him myself." Harry looked sharply at Petunia. She could not meet his eyes. Dudley shook his head. "You didn't protect me. You were afraid I might find out Harry was happy without us."
"Happy?" Vernon spat. "Look at him! He's surrounded by demons. He's sleeping with something wearing his dead mother's face!"
Harry's eyes became cold.
Lilja's fingers tightened around his hand, but it was Ravel who spoke. "You know nothing about Harry's family."
"I know what your kind is."
"No," Ravel said. "You know what frightened priests and old books told you. Harry's family loves him. They protect him. They trust him. From what I have witnessed today, they have shown him considerably more loyalty than you ever did."
Vernon's attention snapped back toward Dudley. "And that is what you want?" he demanded. "To join these creatures?"
Dudley looked down at Ravel.
Her anger vanished beneath sudden uncertainty.
Lilja saw it in the way Ravel's flaming wings drew closer to her body. She had fought Vernon without fear. She had run into a holy ward to reach Dudley, knowing it would burn her. This frightened her.
Dudley gently touched her cheek. "Yes," he said.
Ravel's eyes widened.
"You don't even understand what she intends to do to you!" Vernon shouted.
"She told me."
"She intends to turn you into one of them!"
"She offered me a choice."
"You are not choosing anything while that creature is inside your head!"
"She isn't inside my head!"
"You will end this insanity right now." Vernon pointed toward Ravel. "Tell it to leave. You will never summon it again, never contact it again, and never speak its name beneath my roof!"
Dudley stared at him. "Her," he said.
"What?"
"Stop calling Ravel 'it.'"
"I will call that demon whatever I please!"
"Then I suppose I'm done listening." Dudley took Ravel's hand.
Vernon's face contorted. "You let go of that thing! I am your father!"
"You locked me in my room for four days."
"For your own good! You're throwing away your entire life for a monster you have known for one month!"
Dudley looked at Ravel again.
She appeared ready to argue that she was not a monster, but something in his expression silenced her.
"She listened to me," Dudley said. "Do you know what we did the first time she came here? We drank tea. She asked about my boxing. I asked whether Harry was safe."
Vernon sneered. "And that was enough for you to betray your family?"
"No. You did that part yourselves."
Petunia made a wounded sound. "Dudley—"
"You told me Harry was dangerous because he was different. I believed you. I treated him like rubbish for years because you taught me that was what he deserved."
"That was not our fault," Petunia whispered.
"It was." Dudley's voice cracked, but he continued. "I was horrible to him. I can admit that. Harry gave me another chance anyway. Ravel knows everything I did, and she still believes I can become better."
Ravel pressed herself against his side. "I know you can," she said softly.
Dudley's throat moved. "Ravel makes me want to be better," he told his parents. "You only want me to be afraid."
Vernon's hands curled into fists.
Lilja could see that he was losing control. Every challenge Dudley offered struck at the certainty upon which Vernon had built his entire life: that he was always right, that anything strange was evil, and that his family existed to obey him.
"If you walk out of this house with that creature," Vernon said, "you are never coming back."
Petunia stared at her husband. "Vernon—"
"No!" he roared. "He chooses now. His family or that demon."
Ravel's fingers trembled in Dudley's grasp. "You do not have to decide this way," she whispered. "Not because of me."
"I'm not letting him frighten me into losing you."
"I can wait."
"I've already kept you waiting long enough." Dudley lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.
Ravel's wings spread behind her once more.
Vernon's face twisted. "If you leave with it, then I have no son."
Dudley froze. The declaration landed with brutal finality.
Ravel looked ready to burn Vernon alive. Harry's water trembled inside every pipe in the house, and Lilja felt his fury gathering through their bond.
Dudley merely stared at his father. Then Dudley straightened. "You did the same thing to Harry," he said.
Vernon pointed toward the ruined doorway. "I have no nephew," he shouted. His finger swung toward Dudley. "And if you walk through that door with her, I have no son."
Petunia's mouth fell open. "Vernon, please—"
Dudley's face tightened with pain, but his hand never released Ravel's. "Harry wasn't your nephew when he was magical," he said. "Now I'm not your son because I love someone you're afraid of."
Vernon said nothing.
Dudley nodded slowly, as though his father's silence had answered one final question. "Maybe the problem was never us." He turned away.
Ravel stepped with him, but Dudley faltered before they reached the ruined entrance. Four days without proper food had taken their toll.
Harry immediately moved to his side.
Dudley looked at the arm Harry offered him. "I can walk."
"I know," Harry said. "You don't have to do it alone."
Dudley swallowed. Then he accepted Harry's support.
Lilja watched the two cousins, who were once again as close as brothers, cross the wreckage of the front door together, with Ravel holding Dudley's other hand and one golden wing curved protectively behind them.
Lilja turned toward Petunia.
Her sister stood amid the immaculate home she had tried so desperately to preserve, surrounded by broken ornaments, holy ash, and the wreckage of her own family.
There was so much Lilja still wanted to say to her.
She could see the words Petunia could not force past her lips. Lily. Dudley. Stay.
Lilja gave her one final, cold look. Then she followed her son, her King, and her future husband out of the house.
– Harry Sitri –
We didn't return to the Underworld immediately.
Dudley was exhausted, hungry, and still wearing the same clothes he had been imprisoned in for four days. Ravel refused to let him out of her sight, and Lilja suggested that all of us needed time to calm down before anyone made another life-changing decision.
That was how we ended up sitting inside a diner.
Not just any diner, either.
The same diner Fleur, Gabrielle, Dudley, and I had visited after the football match on my nineteenth birthday.
I leaned back in the booth and stared at the red vinyl seats, black-and-white tiled floor, and framed photographs of old football teams covering the walls. A faded jukebox stood beside the counter. The place smelled of coffee, fried potatoes, and enough grease to shorten an ordinary human's lifespan.
I couldn't help appreciating the irony.
This was where Gabrielle had first told me about Diagon. Sitting in this very diner, I had learned that witches, wizards, and an entire hidden world existed around me. I wasn;t the only strange person with powers in the world.
It was essentially where my supernatural life had begun.
Now I was back as the devil heir to House Sitri, sitting beside my reincarnated mother, lover, Queen, and future wife while my cousin drank a milkshake across from a firebird devil who intended to turn him into one of her peerage members.
Apparently, this diner had a habit of introducing my family to worlds they had never imagined.
Ravel sat pressed against Dudley's side, close enough that there was no visible space between them. She had healed his hands and summoned fresh clothes for him, although the latter had required some assistance from Lilja because Ravel's first attempt had produced clothing covered in gold embroidery.
Dudley had taken one look at it and refused.
He now wore a plain black shirt and loose trousers. He still looked pale, and dark circles remained beneath his eyes, but he was considerably cleaner than he had been when I pulled him out of his bedroom.
In front of him sat a cheeseburger, chips, a bowl of soup, two glasses of water, and a chocolate milkshake large enough to drown a small familiar.
Ravel had ordered all of it for him, seeing how hungry he was.
I looked between them and made a decision. "Well, now that Dudley is officially free of the Dursleys, there is an important matter we need to discuss."
Dudley paused with another chip halfway to his mouth. "What matter?"
"You're my cousin," I pointed out.
"I've always been your cousin."
"Yes, but now we actually like each other."
He considered that. "Most of the time..."
I snickered at him. "Close enough. More importantly, I'm a member of the House Sitri. That makes you a member of House Sitri by default."
Lilja slowly turned toward me. She gave me a look that basically asked, where are you going with this?
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"It means Ravel can't simply take you away without offering your family appropriate compensation."
Ravel's eyes narrowed. "Harry…"
I ignored the warning in her voice and adopted my most serious expression. "As Dudley's closest supernatural relative, it falls upon me to negotiate his dowry."
Lilja placed her milkshake on the table. "...That isn't how dowries work."
I glanced at her. "It isn't?"
"A dowry is traditionally transferred from the bride's family to the groom or his family. You mean a bride price."
My teasing grin grew even wider. "...Dudley would be the bride?"
Dudley choked on his milkshake.
Ravel struck him on the back before glaring at me. "Dudley is not a bride!"
"He would be joining your peerage and taking your name."
"He does not necessarily have to take my name!"
"Dudley Phenex," I said thoughtfully. "It has a certain charm."
"I'm not changing my name," Dudley muttered.
Ravel looked a bit sad hearing that…
"What if I want him to retain the Sitri name?" I asked. "That could become a significant point in the negotiations."
"He doesn't have the Sitri name!" Ravel snapped.
"Not yet."
Dudley looked increasingly alarmed. "Are you planning to change my name?"
"Only if the price is right."
"Harry!" Ravel exclaimed. "You cannot sell your cousin!"
"I'm not selling him. I'm arranging a respectable noble marriage."
Ravel folded her arms and pouted in her seat. "I refuse to participate in this ridiculous conversation."
"That's a shame. You didn't even hear my offer yet? Don't you want to prove how important Dudley is to you?"
Her indignation wavered. I saw the exact moment her noble prideful upbringing overcame common sense. "Ok, what does the Sitri family want for his hand?" she asked suspiciously.
Dudley turned toward her. "Ravel!"
"This is purely hypothetical."
"We want ten tears," I said.
"Absolutely not. Phenex Tears are priceless!"
"Huh? Then Dudley must be worth at least twelve."
"You just said ten!"
"I reevaluated his value just now…."
Dudley covered his face with both hands.
Lilja leaned against me, laughing softly.
Ravel's eyes traveled over Dudley's broad shoulders before she caught herself. "...Two."
"Hey! I'm worth more than two tears!" Dudley looked offended at his cute blonde girlfriend.
"Each tear is worth at least 30 million British Pounds…" Ravel pointed out to him.
Dudley started to sputter hearing he was worth such an absurd number!
"Three Tears," I said, "a formal alliance between House Sitri and House Phenex, and visitation rights on alternate weekends."
"Visitation rights?" Dudley asked.
Ravel ignored him. "House Phenex and House Sitri are already political allies."
"Then it costs you nothing."
"Two Tears and a breeding pair of firebirds."
I blinked.
Lilja leaned close to my ear. "I believe you just discovered her offer. It's a pretty good one."
Ravel realized what she had said. "Nevermind. I am not purchasing Dudley!" she shouted.
Several customers turned toward us. Our waitress stopped behind the counter with a pot of coffee suspended above an empty cup.
Dudley stared at Ravel.
Her face had become brighter than her hair. "I only meant that if there were some traditional expectation of an exchange between noble houses, then two Phenex Tears and a breeding pair of firebirds would represent an extremely generous—"
Dudley kissed her.
Ravel's explanation ended in a muffled noise.
He kept the kiss brief, possibly because we were in public and his parents had spent his entire life teaching him to be embarrassed by anything unusual. When he pulled back, Ravel stared at him with wide eyes.
"I don't need you to buy me," Dudley said.
"I know."
"But the firebirds sound interesting."
Ravel's lips twitched. "You may have as many as you like."
"Oi," I protested. "I'm supposed to get those!"
"You may visit them on alternate weekends," Dudley said smugly.
Lilja burst out laughing. I shook my head and turned toward my Queen. "I try to welcome him into my noble house, and this is how he treats me."
"You attempted to sell him 30 minutes after rescuing him," Lilja pointed out.
I grinned at her. "I was ensuring his financial security..."
"Of course." Lilja lifted her milkshake again, perfectly composed.
My queen was being snarky with me. This could not stand. I slid one hand beneath the table. My fingers found the hem of her skirt before settling over one of her firm, perky ass cheeks. Lilja paused with the straw between her lips. Her expression didn't change. Neither Dudley nor Ravel appeared to notice as I gave her cheek a slow, appreciative squeeze.
Lilja calmly took another sip. You are behaving like a child, her voice whispered through our bond.
You like it.
My Queen shifted closer, pressing her ass more firmly into my hand. That is beside the point.
I rubbed my thumb across the warm curve hidden beneath her skirt.
Lilja's smile sharpened by the smallest degree. One of her hands disappeared beneath the table and settled high on my thigh. She squeezed hard enough to remind me that she was significantly stronger than a human.
I kept smiling.
So did she.
Across from us, Ravel was still fussing with Dudley's plate. "Finish the soup," she said.
"I'm full."
"You have eaten barely half of what I ordered."
"You ordered enough food for four people!"
"You went without proper meals for several days!"
"I can't fit four days of meals inside me at once."
Ravel considered that argument. "Very well. You may take the remainder with us..."
The purple sky of the Underworld stretched above Sitri Manor.
Dudley stared at it.
He had been staring for nearly a full minute, his head tilted back and his mouth slightly open. I stood beside him in the massive rear garden of the estate, waiting patiently while he tried to convince himself that the sky truly was purple.
His gaze eventually lowered to the manor behind us.
The word manor barely did it justice. The sprawling palace of white stone, blue crystal, and silver spires occupied more land than the entirety of Privet Drive. Hundreds of windows glowed across its walls, and servants moved between the open balconies beneath banners bearing the Sitri crest.
Beyond the gardens were forests, lakes, training fields, and mountains House Sitri technically owned. Some of those mountains floated.
Dudley slowly turned in a circle. "You live here?"
"I get that question a lot."
"All of this belongs to your family?"
"Our family," I corrected.
He looked at me.
I smiled. "You'll get used to it."
"I don't think anyone gets used to this."
"I did."
Dudley glanced at the purple sky again. "It feels strange here."
I understood what he meant.
The Underworld air carried demonic energy. Devils barely noticed it, but humans often described the atmosphere as heavier than Earth's. The light was dimmer as well. There was no true sun overhead, only the perpetual violet glow that illuminated the realm.
"The air might bother you for a while," I said. "You could feel tired more quickly, and the lack of normal sunlight can make it difficult to judge time. It won't be a problem after you become a devil."
Dudley's attention snapped back to me. "After?"
"Your body will adapt to demonic energy. The air will feel completely natural, and you'll be able to see better in the dim light."
Ravel stood a short distance away speaking with one of the Sitri servants. She had ordered the man to prepare a guest suite for Dudley near my rooms, although I suspected she intended to spend the night in his suite instead of returning to Phenex territory.
She glanced toward Dudley for what must have been the tenth time in the past minute.
He noticed and lifted one hand.
Ravel immediately smiled and waved back.
Dudley looked faintly embarrassed, but his expression softened.
Beyond them, Fleur and Gabrielle sat beneath a white pavilion beside one of the garden's fountains. Both of my beautiful blonde Veela sisters had their legs crossed beneath the table as they drank the milkshakes I had brought them from the diner.
Fleur had strawberry.
Gabrielle had chocolate.
I had remembered their orders from my nineteenth birthday, which both of them apparently found extremely romantic.
From my perspective, the diner was where I had experienced my first date with them.
It hadn't actually been a date. Dudley had been there, Fleur had spent half the evening wondering how to tell me magic existed, and Gabrielle had been the one to accidentally reveal Diagon Alley.
Still, it counted in my mind.
Neither woman had objected when I told them that.
In fact, they had both kissed me for remembering their drinks. The looks they were giving me now made it clear that my reward would not end with kisses.
Fleur slowly drew the straw between her lips while holding my gaze.
Gabrielle whispered something to her.
They both smiled.
I knew those smiles.
In an hour or two, my sexy Veela sisters were going to shag my brains out.
Possibly sooner if they finished the milkshakes quickly.
"You're staring," Dudley said.
"I'm allowed to stare."
"At both of them?" He glanced between the sisters. "And they're both…"
"My lovers. Yes."
Dudley rubbed one hand over his face. "Every time I think I understand your life, you make it confusing again."
"You'll learn not to think too hard about it."
"I don't think that's good advice."
"It has worked very well for me."
Lilja, who was reclining on a nearby bench, snorted.
Dudley looked around the garden again. His wonder remained, but I noticed tension creeping back into his shoulders. He flexed one hand. Ravel had healed the injuries from his imprisonment, but the memory of four days spent punching an enchanted door could not be erased as easily.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I'm nervous."
"About meeting Ravel's parents?"
"That too."
"They'll probably like you..."
"That isn't what I meant." Dudley watched Ravel speaking to the servant. She was gesturing emphatically, probably demanding that the guest suite be supplied with food, clean clothes, medical supplies, and every other item Dudley could possibly need during the next century. "I'm nervous about becoming a devil," he admitted.
I waited.
He had declared his intention several times, but saying he wanted something and standing in the Underworld while preparing to do it were very different experiences.
"I know how to box," Dudley continued. "That's it. I can fight in a ring. I understand footwork, combinations, and how to take a punch without falling over. I don't know anything about magic." His gaze drifted toward the distant training fields. Several Sitri guards were sparring there, throwing demonic attacks that flashed like lightning beneath the purple sky. "One of those blokes could turn me into ash before I got close enough to hit him."
"At the moment, yes."
Dudley gave me a flat look. "Brilliant reassurance there, mate."
"You're still human. You're comparing yourself to trained devils who have been using magic for decades."
"What happens when Ravel changes me?"
"That depends upon the piece she uses."
"She said she wanted me to be one of her Rooks."
I grinned. "Then you're in luck."
"Why?"
"Both of my Rooks are standing right here."
I pointed toward Fleur and Gabrielle. The sisters looked up simultaneously.
Dudley followed my gesture and frowned. "They're Rooks?"
Fleur delicately removed the straw from her mouth. "Is that surprising?"
"A little."
Her blue eyes narrowed. "Why?"
Dudley immediately recognized the danger. "...No reason."
"An excellent answer," I said.
Gabrielle left the pavilion first, bringing her milkshake with her. Fleur followed at a more dignified pace, although her hips swayed beneath her fitted dress in a way intended entirely for my benefit.
They stopped in front of us.
Gabrielle took another sip. "What are we discussing?"
"Dudley is worried he won't know how to fight after becoming Ravel's Rook."
Dudley looked at me. "How do your Rooks fight?"
"We punch things that our amor doesn't like," Fleur answered in her beautiful French accent.
Gabrielle nodded. "Wi! Then we set them on fire."
"Sometimes we set them on fire first," Fleur added.
Dudley waited for a more complicated explanation.
None came. "That's it?" he asked.
"Rooks are physically powerful," I explained. "The piece increases strength and endurance more than most Evil Pieces. Fleur and Gabrielle were already far stronger than ordinary humans because they're Veela, so becoming Rooks enhanced those abilities even further."
"How much further?" he asked.
Fleur smiled at him in a way that was not innocent.
Dudley took one step back.
Ravel finished speaking with the servant and hurried toward us. "What are you discussing?"
"Harry told Dudley that we could teach him how to fight as a Rook," Gabrielle said.
Ravel's eyes lit up. "That is an excellent idea!"
Dudley looked betrayed.
Gabrielle looked down at her milkshake and frowned. "We should give him a demonstration."
Fleur considered the suggestion before glancing at her own nearly empty cup. "These milkshakes were extremely fatty."
"That was what made them good," I said.
"It also means we should burn off the calories."
"You're devils," I pointed out. "You could consume fifty milkshakes and still look perfect."
Fleur smiled at the compliment, but Gabrielle was already handing me her drink. "Hold this."
I accepted it.
Fleur passed me hers as well. "Do not spill them."
I looked at the two glasses in my hands. "I feel very appreciated."
Fleur kissed my cheek. "You will feel more appreciated later." Her hand passed over my backside before she stepped away.
Dudley pretended not to notice.
Ravel did not bother pretending.
Fleur and Gabrielle moved toward one of the training fields.
The area had been constructed several hundred yards away from the manor, surrounded by reinforced stone platforms and powerful defensive barriers. It was where members of my peerage practiced whenever we wanted to avoid accidentally destroying an inhabited section of Sitri territory.
Ravel took Dudley's hand and led him toward the nearest observation platform.
Lilja followed more slowly, seeming perfectly content to watch.
I carried the milkshakes.
"You should stand behind me," I told Dudley when we reached the edge of the field.
His eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"Shock waves...." I told him.
He looked toward Fleur and Gabrielle. The sisters were standing thirty feet apart, still dressed in elegant clothes and heeled shoes. Neither had assumed a fighting stance.
"They're not even wearing armor..."
"They don't need it." A translucent wall of water rose around the observation platform. I reinforced it with demonic power until the shield became as clear and solid as glass.
Dudley's concern deepened.
…Fifteen minutes later, Fleur and Gabrielle finally decided they had demonstrated enough.
The training field in the backyard looked considerably less pleased about it.
Cracks ran through the ground in every direction. Several boulders had been reduced to smoking rubble, the grass was burning in three separate places, and one of the reinforced practice targets had somehow ended up embedded upside down in a distant hill.
I lowered the water barrier protecting us and handed Fleur and Gabrielle their milkshakes.
Both drinks remained perfectly cold. I had surrounded the glasses with a thin layer of ice magic throughout the fight, although keeping them frozen while shielding everyone from repeated shock waves had required more concentration than I intended to admit.
Gabrielle took an appreciative sip.
The two beautiful Veela sisters were flushed from exertion. Sweat glistened across their faces, necks, and chests. Their dresses clung tightly to their curvy bodies, the damp material turning translucent in several places. Fleur's nipples pressed visibly against the pale fabric covering her breasts, while Gabrielle's dress had ridden high enough to expose most of her thighs.
It was an incredible sight. I stared.
Fleur noticed first. Her blue eyes slowly traveled down my body before darkening with unmistakable hunger. Gabrielle followed her gaze, saw precisely what had caught her sister's attention, and smiled around her straw. Veela fire still flickered in the depths of their eyes.
They weren't finished burning off their energy. Not even close.
Beside me, Dudley looked as though his mind had stopped working entirely. His mouth hung slightly open. His eyes remained fixed upon the devastated training field, and I was fairly certain he had forgotten how to blink.
It was understandable. He had just watched Fleur and Gabrielle throw punches that created shock waves, shatter boulders with their bare hands, and hurl massive fireballs at each other as casually as two ordinary sisters might toss a ball around the garden. One of those fireballs had been larger than Number Four.
Dudley looked at me.
I shrugged. "You wanted to know how Rooks fight."
"They were trying to kill each other!"
"Ve were sparring," Fleur corrected.
"You punched her through a boulder!"
"Trois boulders," Gabrielle corrected him.
"One of them was already cracked," Fleur added dismissively.
Dudley stared between them. "Was that your full strength?"
Both sisters laughed.
His expression became even more vacant.
"I think you broke him," I said.
"Then Ravel should reconsider using a Rook Piece," Fleur replied. "Rooks are not supposed to break so easily."
"I am not broken," Dudley muttered. "I'm reconsidering every decision that brought me to this garden."
Ravel had been unusually quiet since the demonstration ended.
She remained wrapped around Dudley's arm, but there was nothing merely affectionate about the way she pressed herself against him. Her breasts flattened against his bicep, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes still shone with the same fire they had developed when Fleur and Gabrielle's sparring became particularly destructive.
Nearly every devil responded strongly to displays of power.
Combat excited them. Victory excited them even more.
Ravel might have been considerably more dignified than most devils, but she wasn't immune to either reaction.
She looked up at Dudley. Her gaze lingered upon his broad shoulders before drifting toward his chest.
Dudley noticed. Some life returned to his expression. "You all right?" he asked.
"I am perfectly well."
"You look warm."
"I found the demonstration invigorating."
Fleur made an amused sound behind her milkshake.
Ravel's blush deepened, but she refused to release Dudley's arm. If anything, she pressed herself more firmly against him. "We should inspect our bedroom," she announced.
Dudley blinked. "...Our bedroom?"
Ravel clarified. "I need to ensure the accommodations are adequate…"
Dudley's face began turning red.
Ravel lifted her chin with as much dignity as she could manage while rubbing her breasts against his arm. "You have endured a deeply traumatic experience. I do not intend to leave you alone tonight." Her expression softened. "Unless you wish me to," she added quietly.
Dudley looked down at her.
For all the desire evident in Ravel's eyes, she waited for his answer. She didn't tug him toward the manor or make the decision for him. After everything his parents had done, she was determined to give him the choice they had denied him.
"No," Dudley said. "I don't want to be alone."
Relief and desire passed over Ravel's face in equal measure. "Then we should leave immediately." She took his hand.
"Good luck," I told him.
Dudley stopped. "Why do I need luck?"
Ravel narrowed her eyes at me.
"Sex with devil women is nothing like sex with human women," I warned him gravely.
Dudley's entire face turned crimson. "Harry!"
I patted his shoulder. "...Try to stay hydrated."
"I am going to hit you."
"Good. Hold on to that aggression. You may need it later."
Ravel pulled Dudley closer to her. "I am perfectly capable of controlling myself."
Behind me, something cracked.
I glanced back.
Fleur had crushed the remains of her milkshake glass between her fingers while staring at my backside.
Gabrielle slowly licked chocolate from her straw.
Neither looked particularly interested in controlling herself.
"Of course you are," I told Ravel.
Fleur dropped the shattered glass. It vanished in a flicker of Veela fire. "You have spent enough time tormenting your cousin," she said. She caught my left arm.
Gabrielle claimed my right.
Their sweat-damp bodies pressed against both sides of mine. Heat rolled from their skin, and the sweet scent of their Veela magic surrounded me.
"We also need to inspect our bedroom," Gabrielle said.
"Thoroughly," Fleur added. Her hand slid down my back and squeezed my arse.
I grinned. "Is this another training demonstration?"
Fleur leaned closer, her lips brushing my ear. "We intend to see whether our King possesses enough stamina to satisfy both of his Rooks."
"That sounds dangerously close to insubordination."
"Then command us to stop." Gabrielle's fingers slipped beneath the edge of my jacket.
I considered it. "No."
"I thought not," Fleur murmured.
From the nearby bench, Lilja watched us with one eyebrow raised. "I suppose I'll oversee repairs to the training field."
"You're the best Queen in the Underworld!"
"I know." Her voice entered my mind through our bond as Fleur and Gabrielle began dragging me toward the manor. Do not allow them to exhaust you completely. Your Queen expects attention later.
I glanced over my shoulder.
Lilja crossed her legs and smiled. Her green eyes glinted.
I swallowed. Perhaps Dudley wasn't the only one who needed luck.
Ravel was already leading him toward another entrance. He followed willingly, although his expression had become increasingly nervous as she whispered something into his ear.
"Harry!" Dudley called.
I looked back. "What?"
"What did you mean by staying hydrated?"
"You'll understand soon! You're dating one hot girl after all!"
"That isn't helpful!" he shouted back.
Ravel tugged him through the doorway.
I laughed as Fleur and Gabrielle pulled me toward the opposite wing of the manor.
XXX
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