Witchcraft and Devilry Chapter 8 (Patreon)

“What’s taking him so long?” Hermione muttered, tapping her foot on the floor just in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy as she began to grow concerned.

“Something’s wrong,” Luna muttered.

“Normally, I’d agree, as Harry’s not usually one to dawdle, but the castle’s probably busy right now,” Hermione replied.

“No, this is important to him; he’d do anything he could to reach us as quickly as possible,” Luna fretted, running her fingers through her hair.

“Not important enough to tell me weeks ago,” Hermione scowled.

“I suspect that he was worried about how you’d react,” Luna said. “After the incident with the firebolt last year…”

“The two things hardly compare at all!” Hermione hissed. “He had, as far as anyone knew, a lunatic after his blood and received a random gift that could have sent him plummeting to his death at any moment. I had to make sure he was safe, even if he hated me for it, but I couldn’t even begin to try to protect him here because he’s done this to himself. Do you have any idea how much trouble he could…”

“This isn’t the time!” Luna exclaimed, “and we can’t blame this on the castle being crowded at this point.”

She began pacing back and forth, while Hermione just stared at her in confusion. That confusion turned to shock as suddenly, a door appeared where nothing but a simple wall had been before.

“What in the world?” she asked as Luna yanked open the door and ran inside.

She followed, and she saw that the room in question looked perfectly ordinary. It was a little like the Gryffindor common room, yet decorated in the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw, with a few chairs and sofas scattered about and a large, ornate fireplace in the center of it.

“Is this the Ravenclaw common room?” Hermione asked, confused because she was sure that its entrance was on a lower floor.

“No, but it was the first thing that popped into my head,” Luna replied before pulling out an ornate piece of paper. Holding it before her, she said, “Rias Gremory.”

Hermione watched in muted shock and awe as a circle of crimson light appeared before them, filled with symbols that made it look like an ancient sigil from one of the fantasy books that she used to enjoy. It grew rapidly brighter, so much so that she had to close her eyes, and when she opened them again, a girl stood before them, with crimson hair and a figure that could make every woman she’d ever met envious.

“Luna?” Rias asked. “What's wrong?”

“I think Harry’s in trouble,” Luna whimpered.

“What!?” Rias exclaimed.

“He was supposed to meet us up here, but it’s taking him forever, and I’m getting really worried,” Luna said. Looking over at Hermione, as though she’d just remembered that she was there, the blonde added, “Oh, and this is Hermione Granger, Harry’s best friend.”

“You’re a devil?” Hermione asked slowly, as though needing to sound out each word to make sure they were correct.

“We can discuss that when we’re sure Harry’s safe,” Rias replied, her tone imperious and final. “How long have you been waiting for him?”

“About fifteen minutes,” Luna replied. “He had to go back to the great hall and grab something, but even if all the other students were distracted by blibbering humdingers, he still should have been able to push through them by now.”

“It is taking a while,” Hermione admitted, no longer able to just excuse his lateness as a consequence of the castle’s halls being full.

“Okay,” Rias said, sounding worried, “just give me a moment. What do you mean you’re in the hospital!?”

“What?” Hermione asked, wondering for a moment if she was the only sane one in the room.

“Rias has a spell connecting her to Harry, so they talk,” Luna explained, staring at the redhead in fear.

“He’s in the hospital wing!?” Hermione asked in alarm.

“Yes, I need to get down there,” Rias said. “He said he was attacked by some man named Crouch, if that means anything to you?”

“He’s a ministry official,” Hermione said. “Is he alright?”

“He said he’s fine, but…” Rias went to say.

“Oh Merlin, that could mean anything!” Hermione exclaimed.

“He said that your headmaster’s with him,” Rias said. “Dumbledore could probably see through any spell I used to cloak myself, but I need to see Harry.”

“Hold on,” Luna said. “There’s something that I’ve wanted to try with the room for a while.”

She stared at the far wall near the fireplace, and a door appeared there, which, when opened, led to what was clearly a dormroom.

“Is that…” Hermione went to ask.

“Harry’s dorm!” Rias exclaimed, keeping her voice down.

“Wait, how do you know that?” Hermione asked. “And how in the world did you create a doorway into it?”

“Probably not the time,” Rias replied.

“Grab Harry’s cloak,” Luna said. “With it and your own invisibility spells, you should hopefully remain hidden even from Dumbledore.”

“It’s probably the best chance I’m going to have,” Rias replied, waving her hand over her body and rendering herself invisible.

She slipped through the doorway and made a beeline to Harry’s trunk.

“She’s been in there before?” Hermione asked.

“The first time that Harry summoned her was in here,” Luna replied.

“Got it,” Rias whispered as she returned to the Room of Requirement.

Luna closed the door, and it vanished as Rias reappeared before them.

“Alright, I’ll turn myself invisible again before we go to the hospital wing,” she said. “All three of us will fit under here by the look of it and it would probably be best for there to be someone he recognizes under here in case Dumbledore can sense our presence.”

“It can fit three people comfortably enough,” Hermione replied.

“Speaking from experience?” Rias asked.

“Yes,” Hermione replied.

“This door should lead us there,” Luna said as another door opened in the room, “but if we all pass through it, the room will close off.”

“I can make my way back up here,” Rias said, turning herself invisible again.

The three of them huddled close together as she wrapped the cloak around them and quickly opened the door, passing through it to find Harry lying in a hospital bed and speaking with Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey.

*****

“What happened?!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed the moment she saw a very pale Harry being levitated into the hospital wing by the headmaster.

“Mister Potter’s been cut rather deeply,” Dumbledore replied, depositing him carefully on one of the beds and turning him over so his wounded side was facing up. “I don’t suspect that anything particularly dark was used, but he’s lost a great deal of blood.”

“Merlin,” Pomfrey muttered. “Here, I thought the worst thing that would come of tonight was a few idiots needing hangover potions.”

“I’m rarely that lucky, I’m afraid,” Harry said, grimacing as she peeled his sliced dress robes away from his wound.

“That’s a very nasty gash, Potter,” Pomfrey said as she cast a series of diagnostic charms on him, “but I’m not detecting any dark magic, so it’s unlikely to scar.”

She summoned a couple vials of some purple concoction and handed them to him without saying a word. He uncorked the vials and downed them both, managing through sheer experience not to groan at how vile the potions were. The chill that had come over him in the aftermath of his short duel with Crouch had been greatly lessened by the spell that Dumbledore had cast on him, and the last vestiges of it vanished once he downed the potions. His side began to itch terribly as the healer worked, and he looked down to see the deep cut grow shallower and shallower until it finally vanished entirely.

“There,” Pomfrey said. “You’re very lucky to be alive, young man. If that spell had cut any deeper, or if the angle had been even slightly different, you very well might not have survived.”

“For once, it wasn’t luck,” Harry grunted, rolling onto his back. “He wasn’t trying to kill me.”

“Who…” Pomfrey went to ask.

“I’ll handle it from here, Poppy,” Dumbledore interrupted her.

“As you will, Albus,” Pomfrey sighed. “Take it easy for a couple days, Potter.”

“It’s the holidays, so that shouldn’t be hard,” Harry muttered.

As the healer turned to leave, Dumbledore cast a quick charm to ensure that no one outside the room could hear them and said, “I’m going to need an explanation.”

“Out of curiosity, can we be punished for things we did in previous school years and got away with?” Harry asked.

“Unless we’re talking about felonies, not usually,” Dumbledore replied, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Is theft a felony?” Harry asked.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you,” Dumbledore said flatly. “Now, what’s going on?”

“Back during the whole Chamber incident, Ron, Hermione, and I were convinced that Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin,” Harry began. “In hindsight, it was stupid, and that preening peacock couldn’t possibly have pulled off all of that, but we were young and figured that perhaps his father had been behind the first incident.”

“That was a little before Lucius’ time,” Dumbledore commented, “though funny enough, he was involved the second time.”

“Yes,” Harry sighed. “We figured that the best way to investigate Malfoy would be to make him comfortable enough to speak openly, and Hermione got the idea to use polyjuice.”

“In second year?” Dumbledore asked, his bushy brows shooting to his hairline. “Under any other circumstances, Severus would have been deeply impressed by that.”

“Impressed is the last thing Snape would have been,” Harry snorted, “considering that we used his ingredients to do it.”

“Ah, and Professor Snape,” Dumbledore said, nodding. “Was that what caused Miss Granger’s odd transformation that year?”

“Yes, she thought that was Millicent Bulstrode’s hair, but it turned out to belong to her cat,” Harry replied, smiling at the memory.

“Minerva warned her about playing around with advanced transfiguration and made it clear that there would be consequences if it happened again,” Dumbledore chuckled.

“Anyway, Sna...Professor Snape suspected us but couldn’t prove it, and when boomslang skin started going missing this year, he suspected me,” Harry continued. “When he accused me, I dismissed it and told him to call the aurors, but then I started to wonder if the person who entered me into the tournament might be disguised.”

“Why did you not bring this to me?” Dumbledore asked.

“You’re busy, and it was only the barest hint of a theory,” Harry explained, “and it’s for the best that I did keep it to myself and Hermione since the person I would have gone to would have been the famous ex-auror.”

“Right,” Dumbledore sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Eventually it occurred to me that Moody drank from that flask so often that it easily could have been once an hour, and I kind of went from there,” Harry said.

“I’m sure the actual Alastor will be impressed by your deductive skills,” Dumbledore said, “though less so by your attempted arrest. Why did you not come to me or any of the professors when you came to suspect him?”

“Because I didn’t know anything for sure,” Harry replied. “I disarmed him and grabbed the flask so that I could smell it for myself, figuring that if I was wrong, the real Moody would probably be more likely to commend me for what I did than condemn me.”

“You...might actually be right about that,” Dumbledore said. “I suspect that the actual Alastor would have been very impressed by a fourth-year student managing to disarm him.”

“Sadly, Crouch had a second wand that I didn’t check for and…” Harry said.

“Crouch?” Dumbledore asked, peering into his eyes in a way that looked like he was looking through them.

“I er…” Harry sputtered, wondering whether he wanted to disclose the existence of the map or not. “That’s what the lunatic called himself, but it can’t be true. We saw Moody and Crouch together multiple times.”

“Oh, dear,” Dumbledore sighed, stroking his beard. “Barty, what did you do?”

“Professor?” Harry asked.

“Baremius Crouch would never join Tom’s ranks, not for anything,” Dumbledore explained, “but the same could not be said of his son. Barty Crouch Junior was a brilliant student, one of the most gifted of his generation, but he was also deeply troubled. He joined the Death Eaters without hesitation during the war and quickly became one of Tom’s most dangerous followers, though we didn’t learn that until after his defeat. He supposedly died some years ago in Azkaban.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time a dead man came back to haunt us,” Harry muttered, “and not in the ghostly sense.”

“What you did was foolish, Harry,” Dumbledore said reproachfully. “Had I not been alerted in time, you might very well have been abducted and taken by whoever was wearing Alastor’s face to wherever his master is hiding.”

“I know,” Harry whispered, looking down.

“Taking house points seems rather trivial after a night like this,” Dumbledore sighed, “and detentions would only impact your ability to prepare for the next task, so I will let you go this time with this simple warning: the next time you suspect that there is a great danger inside the school, you are to bring it to myself or another member of the staff. I will not be so lenient if you pull another stunt like this.”

“Understood, sir,” Harry said, feeling deeply embarrassed.

Placing his hand on Harry’s shoulder, Dumbledore said, “Rest up for tonight. I need to go find the real Alastor.”

“I hope he’s okay,” Harry sighed.

“He is almost certainly alive,” Dumbledore assured him. “Staying on polyjuice a for year would require a great deal of hair, and keeping a live source would make that much easier. Good night, Harry.”

“Night, Professor,” Harry replied, “and I’m sorry about all this.”

Dumbledore just nodded and walked away, leaving Harry alone to deal with the enormity of his failure.

“I felt so stupidly confident,” he thought to himself. “What in the world was I…”

His self-pity was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a sad-looking Luna, and an angry-looking Hermione as his cloak was pulled off of them. He stared, his eyes growing wide as he wondered who had taken off the cloak. That question was answered a moment later when a furious-looking Rias revealed herself.

SLAP

The crack across his cheek rang out through the empty hospital wing, and Harry lay there for a moment, stunned by the fact that she had slapped him.

“What is wrong with you?” Rias hissed.

“Rias…” Luna went to say.

“You could have died!” Hermione hissed.

Harry just stared at them both for a moment, rubbing his reddening cheek before murmuring, “I see you two have met.”

Twin enraged outbursts were his response, and Harry prepared himself to being screamed at as a couple beams of pleasant yellow light shot from Luna’s wand and hit both Rias and Hermione.

“I get what Harry did was poorly thought out, and I’m sure he does too, but we don’t want to wake Madam Pomfrey,” the blonde said, staring at the door to the healer’s private room.

“You have a point,” Rias said, unable to keep the smile off of her face until she managed to destroy the cheering charm.

“I do,” Harry grumbled. “I was feeling overconfident and thought for sure that I could take what I assumed was one sick man. Instead, it turned out to be his son and I was really not prepared for that fight.”

“We haven’t even gotten to true combat yet,” Rias hissed.

“Comba...you’re the one he’s been training with!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Myself and my queen,” Rias replied, glaring at Harry. “We were supposed to get him ready for anything that the tournament might throw at him. I didn’t anticipate him seeking out additional danger.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Harry groaned. “I should have gone to Dumbledore with what I suspected.”

“You should have summoned me,” Rias countered. “I could have slipped into his office, taken him down, freed the poor man he’s been apparently keeping captive, and then Akeno and I could have found out everything he knew about Voldemort’s plan.”

“I…” Harry trailed off, realizing how stupid he was for not even considering that.

“At least you’re alright,” Luna said, sitting on the bed next to him and running her nails through his hair, making him shiver.

Looking over at Hermione, Harry could see the hurt in her eyes and knew that it wasn’t because he was in the hospital wing.

“I guess I owe you an explanation,” he murmured.

“You do realize that I would never have turned you in for this, right?” Hermione asked, glaring at Rias for a second. “I would have called you out and begged you to reconsider doing something this dangerous, not to mention illegal, but I would never have gotten you into trouble over it.”

“I know, but I knew you wouldn’t have approved, and I didn’t need what I knew would likely become a recurring argument with you while I was dealing with the tournament,” Harry said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, though.”

“For the record, I’m no danger to Harry,” Rias said. “I’m far from the greatest danger to him in his room.”

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey’s potions could all be very hazardous i used wrongly,” Luna said sagely.

Harry might have accepted that explanation of what his still-angry lover meant if she hadn’t glared at him as she said the word danger.

“And what about the cost?!” Hermione exclaimed, tearing up. “Harry, I know you were terrified about the tournament, especially after learning about the dragons, but what did you end up having to pay for her help in it?”

“He had to take her virginity,” Luna replied before Harry or Rias could.

Hermione went still as a statue, not even blinking as her mighty brain failed to process that simple yet insane statement.

“What?” she finally asked after a moment of looking like she wasn’t even breathing.

“My parents were in the process of engaging me to a complete asshole,” Rias explained. “I needed to be a virgin for the contract, and, in exchange for my help with the tournament, Harry was more than up to the task of relieving me of that burden.”

Hermione just blinked and sat down at the foot of his bed as though on autopilot.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had more questions in my entire life,” she said, her voice utterly monotone.

“Uh, Hermione?” Harry asked, sounding concerned.

Before anyone could say anything, the sound of a very angry man hobbling towards them began to echo down the hallway.

“Hide!” Luna hissed, throwing the invisibility cloak over Rias, who turned herself invisible as he draped over her.

“I swear, Albus, when I get my hands on Crouch…” Moody snarled as Dumbledore helped him hobble forward.

“Which one?” Harry asked, hoping to distract both men away from where Rias had stood.

“Either!” Moody growled. “I hear that I have you to thank for my rescue, Potter.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Harry replied.

“I didn’t say thank you,” Moody hissed as Dumbledore helped him into the bed next to Harry’s. “Disarming a man and not checking for a second wand? That’s sloppy work, that is. If you remember just one lesson from what I’ll be teaching you after the break, remember to practice CONSTANT VIGILANCE! In my day, you didn’t consider a suspect disarmed until you had his wand, made sure he didn’t have any others, had his limbs bound behind him, and had him hanging by them from a tree. Of course, then old Bagnold said that that was unnecessarily brutal, as if shoulders can’t be put back in sockets!”

“What in the world is going on in here?!” Madam Pomfrey fumed as she stormed in from her room.

“Ah, hi Poppy, you’re looking well,” Moody said.

“Alastor’s been through an ordeal that I’ll be discussing at the quick staff meeting tomorrow,” Dumbledore replied.

“On Christmas?” Pomfrey asked. “Must have been some ordeal.”

“Please check him over,” Dumbledore said, giving her an apologetic look. “As for you two, Miss Granger, Miss Lovegood, I’m going to excuse your being out of bounds past curfew, given the circumstances, but I think Mister Potter could use some rest.”

“We’ll be going,” Luna said, taking Hermione’s hand.

“Huh?” Hermione asked, her eyes widening as she realized that they weren’t alone. “Oh right, sorry.”

“Oh, Hermione?” Harry asked, reaching into his mokeskin pouch, “I have your bag and your wand.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said listlessly, taking her things and leaving with Luna.

Harry watched the two of them go, knowing that they were very likely trailed by Rias, and sighed, hoping that no further trouble came of this awful night.

*****

“I’m going back up to the Room of Requirement,” Luna said. “Do you want to join me?”

“Okay,” Hermione said, still processing everything she’d learned that night.

“Well, it’s safe to say that this cloak works well,” Rias murmured from behind them. “It’s exceptionally powerful and feels very old.”

“Really?” Luna asked, perking up.

“Look, just promise me that you’re not going to hurt him,” Hermione said.

“I won’t,” Rias promised. “I can tell that you really care about him, Hermione, so know that we have at least one thing in common. Even as pissed at him as I still am, I’ve come to really like Harry.”

“Okay,” Hermione said, staring blankly out in front of her.

The three of them quietly reached the Room quickly enough, and Luna created a simple bedroom that they entered.

“Alright, well, I’m off,” Rias said, handing Luna the cloak. “I’m sorry tonight didn’t go as you hoped, Luna.”

“There will be other nights,” Luna replied, hugging Rias. “Try not to stay mad at him for too long. Harry’s a man, and like all men, he’s infested with mablewumps, tiny little creatures that move their thinking power down to their penises from time to time. They can do all kinds of silly things because of that.”

Rias snorted and returned the hug. “Good night, Luna. I wish we’d met under better circumstances, Hermione.”

“Like Luna said, there will be other nights,” Hermione said flatly, staring into the fireplace.

“I’ll talk to her,” Luna whispered.

Rias nodded and teleported out of there.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Luna asked.

“No,” Hermione said, turning towards the door. “I should really…”

Luna cut her off with a hug, pulling the slightly taller girl towards her tightly.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered, running her fingers through Hermione’s unusually tamed hair.

“Of course it will,” Hermione said as tears began to stream down her cheeks. “Why...why wouldn’t it be?”

She clung to Luna, sobbing her eyes out as she finally let herself feel the pain that she’d been bottling since the blonde told her what Rias’ price was. She had been worried that the annoyingly beautiful devil had claimed his soul and had been preparing to spend the rest of her life looking for a way to save him if she needed to. The idea that her price might be sex never would have even occurred to her, and though she knew it was completely illogical, that felt even worse.

Hermione didn’t know how long she spent crying on Luna’s shoulder as the quirky blonde rubbed her back, but she did know that when it finally subsided, she felt thoroughly embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry,” she muttered.

“Don’t be,” Luna replied, smiling serenely. “We all need a good cry now and then.”

“Then why don’t I feel better?” Hermione asked sullenly.

“Because you’re convinced that you’ve lost something,” Luna replied, “but you really haven’t. Harry adores you, and no other girl in his life will ever change that, no matter how big her breasts are.”

“I’m that transparent, huh?” Hermione asked, wiping her eyes.

“Perfectly opaque, actually,” Luna replied, and Hermione laughed at the dumb joke despite her mood, before realizing that she was serious.

“What is this room, by the way?” Hermione asked, changing the subject. “In all the excitement tonight, I forgot to ask.”

“The Room of Requirement,” Luna replied. “If you walk back and forth in front of the blank wall where the door appears, picturing what you want the room to be, it turns into what you imagine, including a secret passageway into any room in Hogwarts, apparently.”

“It must have some limits,” Hermione insisted, even as her mind ran wild with possibilities.

“It can’t conjure real food, of course,” Luna replied, “and I’m sure there are others.”

“This is incredible,” Hermione said. “You can use it to return to your dorm. The entrance to my common room isn’t far from here.”

“Oh, I’m not going to return to the dorm tonight,” Luna said. “I was planning to stay here anyway, and even though that plan fell through, I can still enjoy this large, comfy bed.”

“What plan was that?” Hermione asked.

“I was going to have Harry take my virginity,” Luna replied casually, sounding like she was discussing the weather.

“What?!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Oh, Rias is really into sharing, I should have mentioned that part first,” Luna said.

“Sh...sharing?” Hermione asked, completely stunned.

“Mmhmm,” Luna replied. “I planned to end the night of the ball by having Harry ruin me for all other men with his exceedingly large penis and then thank Rias for letting him do it however she liked, but then he went and got himself hurt like a big dummy, and now here we are.”

Hermione just blinked at the blonde, wishing that she could go back to six hours ago, when the world made sense.

“I could tell you all about the last few weeks with Harry, Rias, and Akeno, the girl Rias is currently sharing him with, if you like,” Luna offered. “We could even make a girl’s night and paint each other’s toenails. I know the room can create nail polish.”

Hermione sighed.

*****

Harry woke with a groan and reached out to the table next to his bed, searching for his glasses. He found them quickly enough, and with them was a note, which he read as soon as he could see.

Should you wake up before me, you’re free to go, Mr. Potter.

Madam Pomfrey

“That was nice of her,” he thought to himself as he spotted Moody sleeping in the bed next to his. “I guess he really will be Professor Moody if his comment about teaching us is to be believed.”

Getting out of bed, he repaired the tear in his robes that newly healed skin could be seen through, and made his way out into the still-empty hallway, intending to go to the Gryffindor common room.

Only to feel a hand grab him by the shoulder and pull him backward through a deep, dark void. Before he could even scream, he found himself in the middle of a laboratory, being peered at by an intrigued-looking Ajuka.

“Where am I?” Harry asked.

“Agreas, my home,” Ajuka replied.

“I’m in the Underworld?” Harry asked, incredulously. “How? I thought Hogwarts’ wards were incredibly annoying, and even Grayfia had trouble getting through them.”

“On the whole, wards that old and powerful will give most devils trouble, but not ones on my level,” Ajuka replied. “I summoned you here because I’ve finally figured out your little problem, or rather, I’ve finally run out of other possibilities and forced myself to accept the answer.”

“Really, what is it?” Harry asked.

“One moment,” Ajuka replied. “I’m waiting for Rias to come.”

Pretty much as he said that, a ritual circle opened, and Rias, along with Akeno, appeared. The dark-haired beauty had clearly been told about his little misadventure the night before because she was glaring at him, her purple eyes laced with rage, and Harry gulped at the sight.

“Lord Ajuka,” Rias said. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing my queen.”

“The priestess of thunder can stay,” Ajuka said. “Please, sit down, all of you.”

With that, he snapped his fingers, and three chairs flew into place ahead of a white board, on which were written a number of things Harry couldn’t make out.

“When you first brought this little conundrum to me, it intrigued me utterly,” Ajuka said once they’d sat down. “In all the centuries since I first invented the evil pieces, they have never been outright rejected before. There have been cases where a piece wasn’t strong enough to turn a particular person into a devil and a greater one was needed, or where multiple pieces of a given type were needed, or even cases where the pieces had to mutate to work, but never one where they were just tossed out like that. It was strange, and though I immediately had a few theories that could explain it, none of them really made sense.”

“That’s what you said the last time we spoke,” Rias commented. “I got the sense that you had come up with a probable theory, but one that seemed terribly unlikely.”

“Stupid is the word,” Ajuka sighed, rolling his eyes. “The only thing that explained the way in which the pieces failed was so mind-bendingly stupid that I didn’t think it could possibly be true. I continued to investigate, ruling out possibility after possibility until, finally, all I had left was that single stupid answer.”

“Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever’s left, no matter how improbable, is your answer,” Harry said. When all three of them turned to look at him, he looked sheepish and added, “Sherlock Holmes.”

“Well, it certainly worked out like that in this case,” Ajuka sighed. “When Tom Riddle tried to kill you all those years ago, he made a fatal error. He unwittingly struck a bargain with one of your parents to take their life and spare yours and…”

“It was my mother,” Harry said, interrupting him. At Ajuka’s glare, he explained, “In the presence of dementors, I flash back to that night and hear her pleading with him to…”

Despite herself, Rias placed a hand on his thigh.

“I’m sorry, Potter,” Ajuka said, expressing the closest thing to emotion he’d ever heard from the terrifyingly powerful devil. “Your mother sacrificed herself to power a ritual that Riddle didn’t realize he’d become a part of. When he tried to kill you, he violated an agreement that he didn’t know he had entered into, and the magic rebounded on him, destroying his body. He survived, however, because he had created something that I haven’t encountered in centuries, a horcrux.”

“A what?” Akeno asked.

“When the first devils rebelled against the Tyrant, they directed much of their ire upon the humans, his favorite toys,” Ajuka said. “It became a game of sorts to corrupt them and, if possible, convince them to sign away their souls, to take them from him. The practice ended for most devils after the civil war, but it was standard practice among us for millenia. Even the humans who could be tempted into giving up their souls were reluctant, and eventually one crafty magician figured out that through an act of cold-blooded murder and a particular ritual, he could sever a piece of his soul and place it in an object to use as a bargaining chip instead.”

“That’s horrible,” Harry said.

“It was also pointless,” Ajuka chuckled. “Through damaging his soul in that way, he ruined what the Tyrant had given him, and so, from the point of view of the devils, nothing had changed. It wasn’t about collecting souls so much as taking them away from him, and so many among us were happy to let magicians, who weren’t as clever as they thought they were, ruin themselves. Eventually, however, one of the magicians figured out that instead of handing the horcrux over to bargain with us, he could keep it and so ensure that he could not die.”

“He became immortal?” Rias asked, fascinated.

“In a way,” Ajuka said. “If a piece of a soul is still tethered to the earth, the rest of it cannot move on, and so, even in the event of their death, the magician can live, at least until the horcrux is either destroyed or removed from the earth.”

“That’s how he survived that night,” Harry said, going pale. “I’m going to need to find and destroy the horcrux.”

“If my theory’s correct, he created more than one,” Ajuka replied, making Harry pale further.

“Is that possible?” Rias asked.

“Theoretically,” Ajuka replied. “When Riddle was destroyed, his soul had to be rather fragile, because even if he intended to create another one that night, it still shouldn’t have resulted in what I suspect it did. A rogue piece of his soul was torn off of the whole and latched onto the nearest living thing in reach.”

“My…” Harry said, his hand going to his scar as he felt horror creep into him.

“Yes,” Ajuka said. “I think there is a piece of him inside your scar. That’s what didn’t make any sense; that’s what was so stupid that I couldn’t imagine it being the answer to our problem, even if it would theoretically explain the odd reaction of the evil pieces. An evil piece enters into and transmogrifies the soul of the being it’s been placed in, into that of a devil. The physical transformation then follows. What the horcrux in your scar is doing is shielding you from that effect, taking the evil piece into itself.”

“But the piece can’t do anything with a mere fraction of a soul,” Rias finished, looking over at Harry in terror. “We can fix this, right?”

“Oh yes,” Ajuka said dismissively.

“Really?” Harry asked, latching onto that hope desperately.

“You said that the horcrux had to be either destroyed or removed from the earth for the person who made it to die,” Akeno said. “Why did Harry being brought here the first time not fix things?

“Removing the horcrux from the Earth doesn’t destroy it; it merely separates it from the whole and removes its tethering qualities,” Ajuka replied. “The first magicians to figure this out still died properly. A portion of their souls just remained in the underworld, ensuring that they themselves remained in a state of limbo. They still couldn’t return to life, however. I don’t know what effect removing the horcrux from the Earth and returning it to it before the magician died would have, as I don’t think that’s ever happened.”

"So, how do we destroy this thing?” Harry asked, still deeply disturbed by the idea of having a piece of Voldemort inside his head.

“A whole soul is the one thing that the power of destruction cannot destroy,” Ajuka replied. With a devilish grin, he added, “A fragment of a soul, on the other hand, is a different matter.”

“So Sirzechs can destroy it,” Rias said, sounding relieved.

“He can, I’m sure,” Ajuka replied, “but he’s never done it before, and destroying it without harming Harry is going to be tricky. Luckily, though neither of us have any of them lying about, we do have a way to find a number of other horcruxes for him to practice on.”

“You’re going to interrogate the fragment inside Harry!” Akeno exclaimed, sounding excited.

“Is that even possible?” Rias asked. “Do the fragments retain sentience?”

“Oh no,” Harry groaned as her question made him realize something. “I’ve already encountered one of them.”

“The diary you mentioned,” Ajuka nodded. “That was what initially made me suspect this, but I dismissed it because placing a piece of yourself inside another living being is a terrible idea in itself; placing said piece in your enemy is one of the most idiotic things I’ve ever heard of, and it took me a while to figure out how someone could do that unintentionally.”

“So, how do we do this?” Harry asked. “The sooner I can get rid of this thing, the better.”

“To commune with the soul fragment in your scar, I’m going to need to place you in a very, very deep trance,” Ajuka replied. “I need to put not just your mind but your soul to sleep, so that the piece of Riddle will be able to rise to the surface.”

“Is that safe?” Harry asked. “Voldemort is incredibly dangerous.”

“So am I, Potter,” Ajuka grinned, “and you will be very well restrained.”

“So long as it isn’t Moody’s idea of restraint,” Harry thought to himself.

“How do we put him in that trance?” Rias asked.

“There are a few parts to it, but the first involves a potion that I’m lacking a key ingredient for,” Ajuka said. “While I set up the other parts, I’m going to need someone to go meet with a supplier of mine on Earth, and I want you three to take care of it.”

“Just give me the name and address,” Rias said.

“His name is Matteo Cadorna,” Ajuka replied, “and as for his address, that part’s difficult. He moves around the city of Catanzaro often. I can give you the last address of his I had as well as the packaging he wrapped the last thing I bought from him with. That should be enough to track him down, but it will be annoying. The difficulty is why I’m not just going over myself. I remain quite busy after all.”

“Alright,” Rias said. “Leave it with us.”

“Hand him this,” Ajuka said, giving her a sealed note.

“Wait, wait, I’m guessing that place is in Italy, right?” Harry asked.

“The region of Calabria, yes,” Ajuka replied.

“Being yanked out of Hogwarts at random was bad enough, but surely someone will notice I’m missing if I spend a whole day, at least, in another country,” Harry hissed.

“Given what day it is, I doubt anyone’s going to notice,” Ajuka commented.

“Everyone’s going to be exhausted from the ball, and those few who would notice your absence despite that will likely assume that you’re sleeping off last night,” Rias said.

“I guess you have a point,” Harry sighed, hoping that Dumbledore wasn’t going to randomly want a word with him today.

“Come,” Rias said, taking his hand. “I’ve been to Catanzaro before.”

The familiar sigil of the Gremorys appeared under them, and Harry found himself being transported away from the Underworld and to a part of his own world that he’d never been to before. His relatives’ idea of a warm and exotic vacation spot was Cornwall, and before his short trip to the Gremory manor, he had never been outside of Britain. His first thought upon arriving in the coastal Italian city was that, while far from hot, it was much warmer than Scotland. His second thought was that he was standing in the middle of a muggle city wearing robes.

“Here you go,” Rias said as she waved her hand over him and transformed his robes into a simple suit and coat.

“You read my mind,” Harry chuckled.

“I’ll cast a translation spell on you,” Akeno said flatly as her hand glowed with magic. “It won’t last long and is limited to just Italian, but it will be a lot better than the alternative.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. “Um, Akeno…”

“Yes, I know about last night,” Akeno said crossly.

“Listen, I know I screwed up, and I’m really sorry,” Harry said, feeling stricken.

“Harry, we’re both still pissed at you, but we also really don’t like being here,” Rias cut in.

“You don’t like Italy?” Harry asked, confused.

“No, I actually really do,” Rias replied. “This region in particular is one that I’m fond of, but right now, we’re surrounded by active church services, and the sheer volume of prayers is deeply irritating.”

“Oh right, Christmas,” Harry thought to himself as they departed the empty alleyway that she’d teleported them into.

“On the one hand, searching for Lord Ajuka’s contact today will be made somewhat easier by how distracted everyone else will be,” Akeno murmured, “but it’s not without its drawbacks.”

“Right, I guess if the guy does business with one of the Satans, he wouldn’t exactly be all that pious,” Harry chuckled.

“Given that he deals in magical reagents, he’s almost certainly a wizard,” Rias said, “and yet he lives far from the main Italian magical enclave in Florence.”

“I doubt that he’d move about as Ajuka said he does and refuse to keep a fixed address if he wasn’t up to his eyeballs in unsavory stuff,” Harry said. “I’m not surprised that he lives so far from the local ministry.”

“You can be smart when you choose to think,” Akeno sniped.

“I’ve apologized and acknowledged that I fucked up,” Harry snapped. “I let myself think that just because I had improved during our training and seen some tangible results, I could hold my own in a real fight, and now I know that will probably never be true.”

“Harry,” Akeno said, wincing.

“Here we are,” Rias said, pointing at the small house to their right.

“You have made significant progress in the short few weeks that we’ve been training you,” Akeno said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You’re not yet at the point where you can freely challenge random people you know nothing about to fights, and that’s generally not something you should do if you have a choice anyway, but you will reach and exceed the level of this Crouch guy, I promise.”

“It’s just hard not to feel like an idiot,” Harry muttered.

“You were overconfident and did something foolish,” Rias said. “Just learn from that and don’t do it again. Akeno and I are only as angry as we are because we could have lost you and…”

She trailed off, looking up into his eyes as her own grew misty.

“We care about you,” Akeno whispered, wrapping her arms around him from behind and pressing her large breast into his back. “Promise us you won’t run off half-cocked like that again.”

“I promise,” Harry said.

“Good,” Rias smiled, blinking rapidly to dry her eyes.

“It was a little out of character for you,” Akeno commented.

“Not really,” Harry sighed, shaking his head. “It’s hardly the first time I rushed in against an opponent that I had no chance against.”

“No, I meant that most things you do are twice-cocked,” Akeno giggled.

“That pun was terrible,” Rias said as she unlocked the door and let them in. “Hmm, that’s odd.”

“What’s odd?” Akeno asked.

“The door is cracked,” Rias replied, running her finger over what looked like a hastily repaired break in the door.

“I can’t use my wand without alerting...I actually don’t know if that would reach my ministry or the Italian one, really,” Harry said. “Can you cast any sort of life detection spell?”

“Yes, and he’s not here,” Rias said. “The place is empty.”

“I’d say it has been for a few days,” Akeno commented, swiping a finger through the dust on the windowsill.

“Well, let’s hope he left something behind,” Rias groaned, “because the traces on the packaging Ajuka gave us are very faint. The doorknob hit the wall back here. I’d guess it was kicked in.”

As the three of them looked around the abandoned home, Harry got the sense that the man they sought, if he was the last person to live here, had left in a hurry. The furniture was all there, and by itself, it told a bit about this Cadorna guy. For one thing, he was very likely a wizard, given the sheer lack of electronics in the house. Unless the Italians were less addicted to television than the English, he’d have expected to find one.

“Ooo!” Rias cooed from the kitchen.

“Find something?” Akeno asked.

“Nothing useful, but nice all the same,” the redhead replied, rushing out with what looked like a sausage in her hand. “The table had a few things on it under stasis charms, suggesting more than anything that this guy left in a hurry. Among those things was this.”

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“Nduja,” Rias replied, staring down at the sausage greedily. “It’s a spiced sausage that’s made up of so much fat that it’s spreadable. I haven’t had it in ages, but I’d recognize that smell anywhere.”

“Looks like he has a loaf of fresh bread under stasis charm too,” Akeno said, looking in at the small table in the kitchen.

“Sounds like breakfast to me,” Harry said. “I was barely out of bed when Ajuka grabbed me and brought me to Agreas. I don’t think I realized until that moment just how frighteningly powerful he is.”

“As I said, among our people, he’s second only to my brother,” Rias said, sitting down and conjuring a third chair.

Harry tore into the loaf of ciabatta while Akeno grabbed knives and sat down. Rias summoned a small metal bowl from the cupboards, and after cutting open the sausage casing, she scooped out the contents into it. Grabbing the bowl in her hands, she warmed it up, and in mere moments, the rich red sausage melted into a spreadable paste.

“Dig in,” Rias said, scooping some of the sausage out with her knife and spreading it over her hunk of bread.

Harry followed suit, and his eyes bugged out as he tasted it.

“You weren’t kidding about the spice,” he gasped.

“Is it too much?” Rias asked.

“No,” Harry replied. In truth, he was more surprised than anything else, and it wasn’t that bad, but he doubted that he’d have replied any other way in any case.

The three of them ate quietly, and Harry allowed himself to relax a little bit. They were clearly still annoyed at how he’d rushed off into danger, but they didn’t seem to be as pissed as they had been. As they finished, he looked around the room and noted how much it seemed like someone had just been here.

“Aside from the dust in the living room, this place doesn’t look like it was abandoned that long ago,” Harry said.

“My guess would be that Cadorna knew someone was coming and took off in a hurry,” Rias said. “They then kicked the door in, noticed that he’d left, and took off. You two look around upstairs. I’ll finish checking out the ground floor.”

“Will do,” Akeno said.

The two of them went upstairs, with Akeno leading the way, and Harry found his eyes drawn to her large, round arse, which looked incredible in the tight leggings she was wearing.

“I can’t believe I have a piece of Voldemort inside me,” Harry muttered as he went.

The last twelve hours had been so hectic that he’d barely had time to digest that little fact.

“We’ll get it out of you,” Akeno promised. Looking at him with a lewd grin, she added, “I know having a man inside you isn’t your thing.”

“Oh fuck, don’t go there,” Harry groaned as she giggled.

“Oh,” Akeno said, pausing so suddenly that he walked into her.

“What’s oh fuck!” Harry exclaimed as he saw what she was looking at.

Inside what he assumed was their target’s bedroom, lay a severed pinky finger, sitting in a tiny pool of blood.

“This is weird,” Akeno said as she looked around. “There are no signs of a struggle.”

“He splinched,” Harry explained, trying not to look at the finger. The last thing he needed, with a stomach full of spicy sausage, was anything to make him queasy. “Can’t you tell from what the blood looks and feels like how long it’s been since it was spilled?”

“Correct,” Akeno cooed as she picked up and inspected the severed finger. “I’d say this was removed a few hours ago at most. He must just not dust his place very often.”

“This definitely supports Rias’ theory,” Harry said. “The guy knew he was about to be attacked, rushed up here, possibly to grab something, and then tried to apparate away, but screwed up and splinched himself in his panic.”

“Well, this will be enough to track him down,” Akeno said, casting a stasis spell on the finger and pocketing it. “You can look now.”

“Sorry about that,” Harry snorted, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen a severed body part before.”

“We’ll work on strengthening your stomach,” Akeno said. “You don’t have the luxury of living a life without bloodshed, so you’re going to need to get used to it.”

“You’d think I would be by now,” Harry sighed. “If I had thought to put Crouch down more forcefully when I managed to surprise him, he wouldn’t have gotten away.”

“Something else we need to work on,” Akeno said.

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” Harry asked, giving her a winning smile and stepping forward until their faces were inches apart.

“I think I could be convinced to forgive you,” Akeno whispered. “I wouldn’t be the first woman to be tempted by a serpent tongue.”

She kissed him, and he stepped backward, leading her out of the room and back into the hallway. As his tongue slipped into her mouth, he led her further away and pressed her up against the wall. He broke the kiss and trailed his lips down along the slender column of her neck, earning breathy sighs and soft moans from the brunette beauty.

“If the price of your forgiveness if tasting your sweet little pussy until you scream, I should piss you off more often,” Harry whispered in her ear.

“I wouldn’t suggest it,” Akeno said flatly as sparks of lightning played across her fingers.

“Noted,” Harry chuckled, sinking to his knees and pulling her leggings down under her plump arse, groaning at the realization that she wasn’t wearing panties.

“Just a second,” Akeno said, holding out her hand and casting a spell. When he furrowed his brow, she explained, “Cleaning your tongue. I don’t want any traces of the spices ending up down there.”

Harry nodded, embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of that, and he gave her sex, which was already starting to grow damp, a long lick while grabbing two large handfuls of her soft cheeks. Her fingers laced through his hair, and her nails grazed his scalp as he lapped at her folds.

“Hmm, you’ve gotten really good at that!” Akeno moaned as he swirled his tongue around her clit and flicked it directly over the throbbing nub. “Even without your special ability, you’d be nearly at Rias’ level.”

“Hmm, I guess that was the one gift Voldemort gave me,” Harry murmured when a terrible thought occurred to him. “I hope that I don’t lose it when we get rid of the horcrux.”

“Considering how long you’ve had the ability, and how much you’ve used it, I’d doubt it,” Akeno said, “but I’d like you either way.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Harry said wryly before pressing his tongue against her clit. In parseltongue, he hissed, “Cum for me!”

Akeno screamed, her knees bucking, as she came hard. Harry tightened his grip on her arse, holding her up as he continued to inflict the pleasurable torture of a parseltongue-induced unending orgasm.

“When I sent you two up here, it was so that you’d investigate, not fuck,” Rias said flatly.

Harry turned around and saw the redhead standing by the stairs with her arms crossed, glaring at the both of them. He let Akeno slide down gently and stood up.

“We found something and then got talking about forgiveness and…” Harry went to explain.

“So...good,” Akeno panted, reaching into her pocket and tossing the severed finger at Rias.

“Oh,” Rias said as she caught it. “You think this belongs to Cadorna?”

“Probably,” Harry replied. “There wasn’t any indication that there was a fight here. I think the guy apparated away and splinched himself. It can happen if you aren’t careful.”

“Hmm, well, we’ll be able to use it to track him down easily enough,” Rias said. “Look around the grounds outside. I’ll wait with Akeno as her brain turns back on.”

Harry sighed, realizing that blue balls were going to be the actual price of their forgiveness in this instance, and made his way downstairs. As he exited the small house, he saw a crowd of people clearly coming back from a service at the church down the road, and hoped that Rias’ translation spell worked, just in case he ended up having to explain his presence to anyone.

He nodded politely at a couple who said, “Buon Natale.”

Recognizing the words as Merry Christmas, he replied in kind, and they smiled as they went on their way. He breathed a sigh of relief at the realization that he truly could understand these people and took a quick look around the property, noticing a number of foot prints around the place. There were a variety of shoe sizes among the prints, and Harry figured that at least people had shown up at this place looking for Cadorna. He certainly hoped that they were looking for the guy, since splinching yourself in fear of people who were looking for someone else would be highly embarrassing.

“Luna’s rubbing off on me,” he thought to himself, grinning.

As he finished looking around the grounds and determined that there really wasn’t anything of value to be found, he went to make his way back inside, only to pause as he noticed something strange in the distance. There was a girl with long blonde hair wearing the habit of a nun. She looked young, possibly a little younger than him, which made her attire all the stranger. Growing up in England and in a very protestant home, he hadn’t had any interactions with nuns in his life, and his only experience with them was seeing portrayals in television, where they were exclusively old women. This girl was anything but that.

“Oof!” a little dark-haired boy grunted as he fell on the sidewalk.

He started to cry, drawing the attention of his mother, who bent down to help him up. He was clutching his arm, which he seemed to have scraped on the pavement.

“Hey now, it’s alright,” the older woman said softly. “We’re nearly home. We’ll get it cleaned up, and you’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Excuse me,” the blonde girl said. “If you’ll let me, I could help.”

“Help?” the woman asked.

“By the grace of God, be healed,” the blonde said, holding out her hands over the boy’s scraped arm.

Harry’s eyes widened as he watched a pale green light appear between her hands and the boy’s wound close up and seal. The boy’s sniffling stopped immediately, and his mother looked down at him and the nun with wide eyes.

“It’s a miracle,” she breathed.

“A gift from the Lord,” the nun replied.

As he watched the display, only one thought passed through Harry’s mind: “Is that witch bloody mad?”