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That's not Wizard Magic! Ch 33
🕑 Added 2025-11-20 04:41:12 +0000 UTCChapter 33 (~10k words):
– Harry –
When Lilja and I found Luna Lovegood, she wasn't very far away at all. She was right there on the same floor, sitting cross-legged in the center of one of the outdoor courtyards in the near darkness. But that wasn't the strange part—no, the strange part was what Luna was doing.
She was calmly tossing strips of raw chicken to a fluffy group of bunnies hopping eagerly around her. Their noses twitched, their fuzzy little tails flicked excitedly, and their dark eyes gleamed sharply as they tore into the meat with unsettling enthusiasm. Seeing rabbits gnawing at raw meat was jarring enough that it took me a moment to even find my voice.
Lilja tilted her head slightly, eyebrows knitting in mild disbelief. "Um… Luna?" she said hesitantly. "I don't think rabbits are supposed to eat meat. Pretty sure they’re herbivores."
Luna didn't glance up immediately, her attention fixed on feeding a particularly aggressive white rabbit that had just sunk sharp, pointy little teeth deep into a pinkish piece of chicken breast. After a long, thoughtful pause, she finally lifted her dreamy gaze up toward us.
"Oh, these aren't ordinary rabbits," Luna informed us serenely, as if she'd been expecting someone to ask exactly that question all day. "They're carnivorous Vorpal Bunnies, you see. They are nocturnal and they only eat the raw flesh of other creatures. In fact, they can't digest plants at all—it would make them violently ill."
I stared down at the cluster of deceptively adorable creatures with renewed unease. "Well," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck, "that's not horrifying or anything. And Hogwarts just lets these little monsters hop around freely?"
Luna smiled sweetly and shrugged her slender shoulders. "They've been around for ages, Harry Sitri. Nobody minds as long as they're well-fed. They only get cranky when they're hungry." She paused to toss another chunk of meat to the rabbits. It landed with a wet slap on the stone courtyard, immediately prompting a disturbing frenzy of small furry bodies tearing aggressively at the flesh.
Lilja and I shared a quick look. Man, this school was still pretty crazy sometimes…
I shook my head and forced myself to snap out of it.
"Listen Luna, there’s something really important we have to—"
"Of course I'll help you, Harry Sitri," Luna interrupted in a dreamy tone, turning her attention fully to me and tilting her head softly. "Even though I’m still mad at you, you know."
I blinked, a bit startled. My mouth hung open awkwardly for a moment before I finally managed, "Um… wait, you're mad at me? What did I do?"
Luna’s delicate features arranged themselves into a pout, her big blue eyes blinking slowly as she sighed dramatically. "You haven't spent any time with me at all. It's really rather rude, Harry. Especially after you took my very first kiss in the carriage ride, and then you, me, and Ginny all went on that flying date together. I thought we'd bonded, you know?" She tilted her chin up stubbornly, giving me a very pointed look.
Lilja turned her head slowly, shooting me a long-suffering glance that clearly said, 'Another girl, Harry? Really?'
My cheeks flushed hotly as Luna continued on, completely ignoring Lilja’s reaction.
"And then," Luna added, her voice lowering conspiratorially, "you went and shagged Ginny. She told me all about it, said it was the most wonderful experience of her life. I've been waiting ever since, wondering when my turn would be—"
I quickly held up both hands, cutting Luna off abruptly as my face ignited in embarrassment. "Whoa, wait! Luna—stop, please. I’m sorry, really sorry. Things have just been crazy lately, and… well, I didn't realize you were feeling left out."
She tilted her head, thoughtful but skeptical, watching me closely as if debating whether my apology was sincere enough.
I cleared my throat awkwardly and added hurriedly, "But I promise, I'll definitely spend more time with you. We'll do whatever you want. Flying, exploring—anything."
Her skeptical look melted slowly into a smile. "Anything, Harry?"
I swallowed nervously. "Well… within reason?"
Luna giggled softly and finally nodded in acceptance. "I suppose that’ll do for now."
Wanting to steer things back to our urgent matter, I stepped closer to Luna, shifting my expression into seriousness. "Look, Luna—this is really important. Sona said you'd be able to help us. Do you… happen to know where the Chamber of Secrets is?"
"Oh, that?" Luna’s tone was entirely casual, as if I'd just asked if she knew where the kitchens were. "Yes, of course, I can tell you exactly where it is."
I exhaled slowly. “Good. Then can you show us? Right now?”
“Mm.” She dropped the last strip of chicken in front of the closest bunny and patted its head as it shredded the meat. “We should go before the Vorpal Bunnies get bored. They start chewing on ankles when that happens.” Luna pushed herself up in one smooth motion, dusted off her skirt like she hadn’t just been hand-feeding murder rabbits, then stepped right into my space and slid her arm through mine without asking.
She pressed in close. Her whole side was flush against me, her chest pushed firmly into my upper arm. There was no mistaking the feel of her modest breasts through the thin layers of her uniform and robes. She clung with a casual confidence that said she considered my arm hers for the rest of the evening.
My brain stalled for a second. “Uh…”
Luna just looked up at me with that soft, dreamy little smile, like this was the most natural thing in the world. “Don’t worry, Harry Sitri. I’ll guide you.”
Behind us, Lilja made a low noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a growl. I glanced back at her.
She was watching Luna like she was trying to decide if she should physically peel the Ravenclaw off me. Her jaw was tight, and her blue eyes were narrowed just a bit, but she still walked forward to join us.
“...Your name is Luna, right?” Lilja said, voice flat. “You’d better actually know where this place is.”
We started walking, Luna still attached to me, practically glued to my side. I could feel every step she took in the way her body moved against my arm. My brain kept unhelpfully supplying details about the way her modest chest shifted every time we went up a stair.
“I do,” Luna replied cheerfully.
Lilja moved to my other side, close enough that her shoulder almost brushed mine, forming a little triangle as we headed back inside and toward the stairs. “A girl who is important to me is in danger,” Lilja said. Her tone came out hard, the kind of hard that promised violence if anyone wasted our time. “I don’t have time for any flights of fancy tonight.”
Luna didn’t even flinch. She just turned her head and looked over me at the Valkyrie, calm and steady. “I know exactly what’s at stake,” she said, and for once there was less of that drifting quality in her voice. “I also know it will all work out.”
Lilja’s eyes narrowed further. “And how do you know that?”
“Because I have complete faith in Harry,” Luna said simply. Then she added, still totally sincere, “And in you, Lilja Nornas.”
Lilja missed a step. Her cheeks flushed a light pink, the color standing out clearly against her pale skin. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then looked away for half a second like she had no idea where to put her eyes. “Oh. You… do?” she managed.
“Of course.” Luna leaned more of her weight into my arm as if that settled everything. “You’re very reliable. You would do anything to keep Harry safe and happy. And you look very good with a sword…”
I tried not to choke at the way she said all that. Lilja would do anything to keep me happy and safe? I didn’t know I’d made that much of an impression on the gorgeous redhaired slytherin girl.
Lilja coughed into her fist and stared stubbornly down the corridor. “…All right then.”
She didn’t seem to know what to say after that, which was honestly kind of impressive. I hadn’t seen anyone leave Lilja at a loss for words yet.
We moved through the dim hallways, the castle quiet and echoing around us. Our footsteps sounded loud on the stone. Torches flickered in their brackets, throwing moving shadows across the walls. It was the same Hogwarts I’d been walking through for weeks, but the weight in the air was different now that I knew Jasmine was somewhere below us with some deranged snake-devil calling itself Voldemort.
Luna hummed under her breath as we climbed the stairs, the tune light and a bit off-key. Every now and then, she squeezed my arm for no obvious reason. Lilja kept glancing over, catching the motion out of the corner of her eye and giving Luna these short, sharp looks, then catching herself and looking forward again like she was telling herself not to get distracted.
After a couple flights, I cleared my throat. “So, Luna… where exactly are we going?”
“The second floor,” she answered. “Girls’ bathroom.”
Lilja’s head snapped toward her. “…The Chamber of Secrets is… in a bathroom?”
“Yes,” Luna said. “The girl’s bathroom…”
“Slytherin built his great hidden chamber under a school toilet?” I asked her.
Luna tilted her head, as if considering how to phrase it. “Well, he was a genius, a bigot, and absolutely terrible at interior design. He was also a pervert.” She said that last part with absolute certainty.
We reached the second floor. The corridor here was colder, the air more still, like the place itself was holding its breath. The walls were slightly damp in spots where old plumbing seeped, and the torches burned lower.
Stepping into the girls' bathroom on the second floor felt instantly unsettling. The air was heavy and stale, tainted with a musty scent, like mildew and rusting pipes. The dim torchlight flickered unevenly, casting wavering shadows across cracked mirrors and grimy porcelain sinks that had long been unused. My gaze drifted to the tiled walls, scarred and ravaged with deep, violent gouges. Broken ceramic shards littered the ground around us, crunching loudly beneath our feet. It looked like something had fought desperately here—or had simply been enraged enough to tear the place apart in frustration.
Lilja stood tense at my side, her pale fingers twitching slightly as she scanned every corner. Luna, still attached to my arm, hugged herself even closer, her smaller frame pressed firmly against my side as if she'd rather be touching me than the grimy bathroom air. She didn't seem frightened—just calm and curious, her eyes wide and alert.
A strange tingle danced along my senses. Instantly, I recognized it—the faint, eerie aura that lingered after a stray devil passed through. Yeah, this was definitely the spot. My gut knotted with anticipation. Jasmine was somewhere below us, probably scared out of her mind, and we were wasting precious seconds.
I gently extracted my arm from Luna’s possessive grip, reaching up instead to squeeze her shoulder. “Thank you, Luna,” I told her earnestly. “You were right. I can feel it here. Now, can you tell me exactly how we get inside the Chamber?”
Luna smiled vaguely and lifted her delicate hand, pointing elegantly downward. “Underneath us, Harry Sitri. It's hidden beneath the floor, and you can—”
That was all I needed to hear!
Without another second of hesitation, I stepped forward, extending my right hand decisively. Energy flared deep within my chest, rising to the surface with the ease of long practice. My Sitri family crest burned into existence upon my palm, the azure magic crackling in raw, eager arcs across my fingers.
“Stand back a little,” I warned them and Luna squeaked for some reason. I steadied myself, exhaled once sharply, and released my gathered power straight downward in a precise burst.
The concussive blast hit the floor brutally, shattering tiles instantly and punching straight through solid stone and concrete. The impact echoed explosively in the confined space, blasting chips and shards everywhere in a violent hail. When the debris cleared and settled, an ominous, gaping hole appeared at our feet. I moved carefully to peer downward, revealing a steep stone slide spiraling downwards, quickly swallowed by complete darkness.
“HARRY SITRI!” Luna smacked me sharply in the center of my chest, a surprisingly strong little blow for such a gentle-looking girl. Her pale cheeks flushed hotly, blue eyes narrowing in a surprisingly annoyed pout. “I was just about to explain! You didn’t have to destroy the poor bathroom. There’s a secret passage that opens if you speak Parseltongue!”
I blinked at her blankly, rubbing my chest where her palm had smacked me. “Parsel… what?”
Luna folded her slender arms over her modest chest, giving me a look like she couldn’t quite believe how clueless I was sometimes. “Parseltongue, Harry. It's the language of snakes.”
Lilja stepped forward suddenly, eyes widening as she fixed me with an intense, alarmed stare. “Wait—Harry, are you telling me you're a Parselmouth? You can talk to snakes?” There was something very careful in her voice, like this revelation was important and probably dangerous, though I didn’t get why.
I shrugged, a bit confused by her intensity. “I guess so. I never thought about it much. The only snake I ever actually spoke to was a giant basilisk, and that thing was just a giant danger noodle hell-bent on trying to eat me. Didn't really have much to say beyond hissing death threats.”
Lilja’s jaw dropped visibly, her eyes huge and incredulous. “There was a basilisk in Hogwarts?!” she demanded sharply, clearly horrified no one had bothered to mention it.
Oh shit. Right. She wasn’t around when that particular nightmare had gone down. “Um… yeah. Long story,” I said lamely, rubbing my neck awkwardly. “Sorry, guess nobody told you about that particular adventure, huh?”
Lilja muttered something dark under her breath that sounded suspiciously like several curses in Old Norse, eyes still wide in disbelief. She threw up her hands briefly, as if resigned to never fully grasping how insane this place could get.
I turned back to Luna, laying a reassuring hand on her small shoulder.
“Thank you,” I told her, and I meant it. “Seriously. I don’t think anyone else could’ve pointed us straight here this fast.”
Her expression softened. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, steady and clear for once.
“You’re welcome, Harry Sitri,” she said. “I don’t like it when people are in danger. Even the ones who forget to visit me.”
I winced a little but nodded. I deserved that.
“Luna,” I said, voice firming. “You’ve done your part. I need you to stay up here now. This is going to get bad. Stray devils aren’t something you want near if you don’t have to.”
She tilted her head, thinking. Her hand slid off my side and dropped to her skirt. She twisted the fabric between her fingers for a second. “I could come with you,” she said. “I’m not useless. I can see things other people don’t. And I’m very good at running away from horrible monsters when the time is right. Daddy and I have gone monster hunting alone before…”
“I know you’re not useless,” I said. “You’re the reason we’re even standing in the right bathroom. But this thing eats people. It’s already taken at least one student and it’s got Jasmine right now. I am not bringing you down into its personal pantry.”
She pouted again, lips pressing together, but it was softer this time. “You’re very bossy sometimes,” she said.
“And you’re very good at ignoring common sense,” I shot back. “Please. Stay up here. If something goes wrong and we don’t come back fast enough, go straight to Sona, Rias, and Dumbledore. Tell them exactly where the entrance is and what’s down there. Don’t try to fight anything yourself.”
She went still for a second, then slowly nodded. “Fine,” she said quietly. “I’ll do that.” Her eyes dropped to the hole and then back to me. “I hope Sona lets me join her peerage soon,” she added under her breath. “Then I wouldn’t get left behind when all the interesting and terrifying things happen. It’s very lonely on the sidelines.”
Lilja heard that. Her mouth tightened, and she glanced between the two of us.
“If you were a devil already, I’d still tell you to stay up here,” I said bluntly. “This isn’t about you not being strong enough. Right now I need one person I trust up here, not down there.”
Luna’s eyes widened a little at “trust.” Her cheeks picked up a faint pink. “All right,” she said. “I’ll wait. And I’ll be very cross with you if you die.”
“I’ll be very cross with me too,” I said. “So I’ll try not to.”
She stepped in close again and reached up, cupping my cheek in her palm. Then she leaned up on her toes and placed a soft, quick kiss at the corner of my mouth. Not the full-on kiss she’d clearly wanted earlier. Just a small, light touch. “Good luck, Harry Sitri,” she whispered.
– Lilja –
They landed at the bottom of the disgusting stone slide with a bone-jarring thump. Lilja barely managed to stay upright, her boots skidding on the slippery layer of filth and grime covering the floor. It smelled awful down here—like something rotten had crawled into this cave and exploded everywhere.
Lilja wrinkled her nose and glanced around. Bones—human bones, animal bones, and bones she couldn’t even identify—littered the cave floor in uneven piles. The silence of the place pressed on her ears, thick and heavy, broken only by the echo of dripping water somewhere deeper in the cavern.
“Great,” Lilja muttered under her breath, stepping carefully over a cracked human skull. “Because of course we couldn’t land somewhere remotely clean.”
Lilja drew a deep breath, steeling herself. The air down here felt clammy against her skin, slick and uncomfortable beneath her robes. Screw it, she decided—there was no point fighting in heavy, restrictive Hogwarts robes when she had a perfectly good suit of Valkyrie armor available.
With a small burst of power, she willed away her bulky school robes. The thick layers vanished immediately into the ether.
For a few heartbeats, Lilja stood completely naked in the dark cave, pale skin fully exposed to the cool, damp air.
In that brief moment of exposure, Lilja’s green eyes snapped instinctively toward Harry—and her breath caught. His piercing blue eyes were glued to her body, widening slightly as he took in the vision of her nude form with his devilish nightvision. His gaze traveled unapologetically down her shoulders, lingered openly on the heavy curves of her breasts, the delicate pink nipples stiffening from the cool air. His stare drifted lower, roaming the toned curve of her abdomen, sliding appreciatively down the flare of her hips and across her naked thighs.
Lilja felt a flush of heat curl deep in her belly. She might have felt self-conscious once, but not now. No, the look on Harry’s face—open desire, raw admiration—filled her with fierce satisfaction. For just that second, he was seeing no one else but her.
With another flicker of magic, Lilja summoned her silver Valkyrie armor, the metal plating sliding into place over her body. The form-fitting armor hugged her curves tightly, accentuating every line and plane of her figure in shining silver. Her crimson hair spilled freely across her armored shoulders, flowing in fiery waves down her back.
Harry blinked, snapping his gaze back up to her face, cheeks slightly flushed. He opened his mouth to speak, paused, then cleared his throat awkwardly. “You, uh… armor looks good,” he mumbled, visibly embarrassed to have been caught staring.
Lilja raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smug, confident smirk. She shifted her weight deliberately, letting the armor hug her figure just so. “I know,” she said bluntly. “You made it pretty obvious you approve.”
Harry laughed softly, looking a teensy bit embarrassed. “Guilty.”
Lilja allowed herself a moment of private triumph before seriousness returned, her smile fading. She needed to focus. Jasmine was somewhere in this cursed place, and Jasmine was Marlene McKinnon’s daughter. Marlene—who was Lily’s best friend for all those years at Hogwarts. And even occasional lovers, when all the “men” in the castle were too disappointing to interest the two beautiful witches.
But then Marlene went and betrayed Lily by sleeping with her husband and even getting pregnant and the two of them never spoke again before Lily was killed. She regretted that, and would do everything she could to help Harry rescue Jasmine!
But first—there was a tradition when a Nord was going to go into battle!
Turning sharply to Harry, she caught him off guard by stepping directly into his personal space. Her fingers wrapped firmly around the front of his shirt, tugging him forward roughly. His eyes widened in surprise, but before he could say a word, Lilja’s lips crashed down hard onto his in a fierce, possessive kiss!
The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was hot, aggressive, and unapologetically sexual. Lilja pressed herself flush against him, her mouth moved heatedly against his, tongue sliding forward to trace firmly over his bottom lip before plunging decisively past his parted lips, exploring deeply and confidently.
Harry stiffened briefly, clearly startled by her sudden aggressiveness, but recovered quickly, his strong arms immediately winding around her waist, gripping tightly. He kissed her back fiercely, meeting her passion with equal intensity. She felt him shifting, hips unconsciously pressing forward into her armored thigh, making no effort to hide the way his body responded eagerly.
After a long, charged moment, Lilja finally broke the kiss, pulling away just enough to look into his wide, dazed eyes.
His breath came quick and ragged, chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her palms. “What…” Harry panted, slightly stunned. “Lilja… what was that for?”
She smiled smugly, fingers smoothing lightly along his jaw, enjoying the way he shivered slightly at her touch. “For good luck,” she told him bluntly, her voice low and husky.
Harry swallowed audibly, eyes locked onto hers, a hot, yearning gaze that sent another delicious thrill racing down her spine. “Yeah. Good luck. Right,” he mumbled breathlessly, clearly still reeling from the intensity of the kiss.
– Dumbledore –
The air in the headmaster’s office crackled with tension. Madame Maxime, the statuesque Headmistress of Beauxbatons, was currently towering over his desk.
“You assured me zat zis school was secure, Albus! Zat Hogwarts was ze safest place for my students to visit! And now I am to believe your British Dark Lord—your Voldemort—is alive and snatching children from ze corridors? Sacre bleu!” She gestured passionately with one enormous, manicured hand.
Across the room, Headmaster Igor Karkaroff paced anxiously, his heavily accented voice edged with panic and fear, eyes darting nervously about as though the Dark Lord might spring from behind Dumbledore’s phoenix perch at any moment.
“Voldemort—” Dumbledore began patiently, only to be cut off by an immediate, exaggerated flinch from Karkaroff.
“Please! Do not keep saying his name!” Karkaroff hissed desperately. His pallid face was ashen beneath his neatly trimmed goatee, and his hands visibly trembled. “You have no idea—no idea at all—of the horrors that name conjures. He is the devil incarnate, Albus!”
A devil? As if…
Dumbledore raised one silver eyebrow slightly, a faintly sardonic smile tugging at the corners of his lips beneath his long, white beard. “I say his name, Igor, because the man you fear is merely a foolish, angry boy who became twisted by arrogance and hatred. I never feared Tom Riddle—not when he walked these halls as a sullen young Slytherin, nor when he proclaimed himself the Dark Lord Voldemort.” His calm, steady voice resonated firmly, echoing off the stone walls of the office. “And I certainly do not fear him now.”
Karkaroff flinched yet again, visibly disturbed, shoulders hunching defensively as if Dumbledore’s words physically struck him. Madame Maxime shook her head, throwing her hands upward in exasperation and muttering angrily in rapid French about stubborn British men and their ridiculous bravado.
In the far corner of the room, Professors Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape stood silently. Minerva’s usually sharp gaze was shadowed with worry, thin lips pressed into a tight line. Her posture was rigid, shoulders tensed, her slender fingers gripping tightly at the edges of her dark green robes. Beside her, Severus Snape was quieter still, his black eyes fixed pointedly downward at his left forearm.
Dumbledore’s piercing gaze caught sight of the Dark Mark etched onto Snape’s pale skin—the hateful symbol had grown darker lately. Not quite the stark, vivid black it once was at Voldemort's peak—but dangerously close. Dumbledore knew exactly what that meant. Voldemort was indeed gathering strength once more, though perhaps not fully restored yet.
Still, now was not the time for absolute honesty.
Albus despised deception—it sat heavy in his chest, tasted bitter in his mouth—but at this moment, a reassuring falsehood was infinitely preferable to mass panic and international scandal. He lifted his gaze calmly, his voice projecting serene authority as he addressed the agitated Headmistress and Headmaster directly.
“Madame, Igor—let me clarify matters immediately,” Dumbledore spoke, smoothly maintaining his composed, reassuring tone. “This intruder is not Lord Voldemort himself.”
Karkaroff let out an audible sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging visibly.
“He is merely an imposter,” Dumbledore continued firmly. “A deranged fanatic who has chosen this exact moment, during our prestigious tournament, to terrorize us by appropriating Voldemort’s name and methods. This is, of course, an unfortunate and serious breach for which I take full responsibility.” He inclined his head respectfully. “You have my sincerest apologies.”
Maxime was clearly skeptical, narrowing her eyes at him. “You are sure of zis?”
“Completely,” Dumbledore lied calmly, his twinkling eyes radiating confidence. “In fact, I’ve already dispatched Hogwarts’ most capable students—those whom I trust implicitly—to confront this imposter and retrieve the kidnapped student, Jasmine Potter McKinnon. They will not fail.”
For a brief moment, silence descended. McGonagall exhaled softly, still visibly troubled. Snape’s gaze lifted momentarily, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, suspicious and wary, but wisely keeping silent.
“Zis 'imposter' better be apprehended swiftly, Albus!” Madame Maxime insisted sternly, wagging one large finger pointedly. “Or I will take my students and leave immediately! I will not place zem at risk!”
Karkaroff quickly nodded emphatically. “Nor shall I! Durmstrang’s reputation—my reputation—is already tarnished enough!”
Dumbledore nodded calmly, absorbing their fury without visible reaction. “Understood,” he agreed softly. “Please trust me when I say everything possible is being done. You have my solemn word.”
Karkaroff looked only mildly reassured, still twitching at every shadow. Madame Maxime glowered darkly at Dumbledore before turning away, muttering under her breath again.
As their visitors finally exited, the door clicking shut behind them, McGonagall stepped forward anxiously. “Albus, are you absolutely certain that sending Harry Sitri himself after this threat was wise? He is… talented, yes, but he has a tendency to get distracted—”
“Harry Sitri may be a touch reckless and rather… lustful, at times,” Dumbledore admitted with a dry chuckle. “But believe me, Hogwarts has weathered far worse.” He paused. “He is brave, fiercely protective, surprisingly powerful—and he has already demonstrated he will put himself in harm’s way without hesitation to protect his friends. Jasmine could ask for no better champion tonight!”
Snape made a low noise of mild irritation, finally looking up from his arm. “Sitri is a complicated young man,” Snape murmured. From him, that was practically high praise!
“Oh, I am aware,” Dumbledore acknowledged cryptically, eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. He didn’t need to elaborate on the precise reason why Harry was indeed complicated—the truth was, he’d discovered Harry’s true nature weeks ago—a half-devil, a literal creature of the underworld.
Yet, oddly enough, this revelation hadn’t bothered Dumbledore. Witches and wizards were hardly devout Christians—in fact, their kind had historically been burned alive all the same by those so-called devoted followers of God.
Having a half-devil walking Hogwarts’ halls hardly seemed scandalous in comparison. Besides, devil or not, Harry Sitri had proven himself loyal, courageous, and kindhearted—a far better student, in fact, than many pureblood wizards Albus had encountered over his many long years.
No, Dumbledore mused privately, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes momentarily—Harry Sitri was exactly the sort of hero Hogwarts needed tonight. He had faith in the half-devil, a quiet confidence that Harry and the new transfer students Lilja—who was also much more than met the eye—would fight fiercely and successfully rescue Jasmine Potter McKinnon from whatever horrors awaited beneath Hogwarts.
He didn’t know if Voldemort was actually waiting down there or something else, but he had faith in his students.
– Harry –
I slipped my hand into my magical pocket space and focused. My fingers brushed smooth, strange fabric and I grabbed it and pulled it out into the stale air of the tunnel. The silvery cloth spilled over my hand in soft folds. It didn’t shine much, but it had that weird not-quite-there shimmer that always messed with my eyes.
Lilja’s breath caught. Her green eyes locked on the cloak. She reached out slowly and pinched the edge between her fingers, rubbing it with her thumb. “Is that what I think it is…?”
“It’s an invisibility cloak,” I said, holding it out to her. “Figured you’d be better with stealth than me. I’m not exactly subtle no matter how hard I try to be.”
Her head snapped up. “Not just an invisibility cloak,” she said sharply. Her voice had a hard edge that hadn’t been there a second ago. “Harry, this cloak belonged to James Potter. It is one of the three Deathly Hallows.”
I paused. “Oh. So it really is one of those Hallow things Hermione went on about when she taught me all about the magical world months ago?”
“Yes, it is one of those Hallow things,” she shot back with a small playful eye roll. She stared at the cloak again, then at me. “How do you have this? You are not James’ son.” She said it like a fact that refused to line up in her head.
I shrugged. “Lyra and Lyna stole it.”
Lilja blinked and then sighed. “Of course they did,” she muttered. “From who?”
“Ron weasley,” I said. “Back when that piece of shit rat was mindfucking Ron, he tried to sneak into the kitchen with this cloak to poison me.”
“Pettigrew!” she spat the name, like she personally hated the rat as well for some reason. Lilja stared hard at me. “And how did Ron Weasley end up with one of the Deathly Hallows in the first place?”
“He stole it,” I said. “From Neville Longbottom. Maybe James left it with the Longbottoms. Maybe Dumbledore gave it to him? I don’t know. I just know Lyra took it from ron it, brought it to me”
Lilja looked back down at the cloak. Her fingers tightened on the fabric. She wasn’t just surprised, she was rattled. Her eyes had that distant, calculating look she got sometimes. “This cloak is part of James Potter’s legacy,” she said slowly. “If we survive this, you should give it to her. She is his daughter. It belongs with her bloodline.”
“Fine by me,” I said honestly. If it was hers by birthright, then she deserved it. “I’m not attached to it. I’d rather rely on my own devil tricks anyway.”
She nodded once. Then she straightened her shoulders and switched tracks fast. “For now, I will use it to get Jasmine out while you distract the stray devil.”
I held the cloak out properly. “Then gear up, Valkyrie.”
She took it from me and swung it around her shoulders with an almost practiced motion. Lilja disappeared from sight—only the faint outline of the fabric shifting gave me any hint where she stood. The air moved slightly when she stepped closer.
“All right,” she said. I could hear her, but I couldn’t see her mouth move. That was an impressive artifact. “This is a lot to process later. For now, the plan is simple. You draw the monster’s attention. I grab Jasmine and put this cloak over both of us. Once I have her, I'll take her out of the chamber before coming back to fight with you.”
“Sounds good,” I said. Then something had been nagging at me for a while, and I finally voiced it. “You know, for a ‘transfer student,’ you seem to know a lot about Hogwarts. About James. About that cloak. How?”
There was a pause. The cloak’s edge shifted as she moved. Her teeth caught her lower lip, I knew that look now even if I couldn’t see it. She did it whenever she wanted to dodge my questions. She was gorgeous but also so mysterious sometimes…
“Could you ask me that question later?” she said. Her voice dropped lower. “It is a…whole story. Not one we have time for when Jasmine may be dying.”
I held her silence for a second, then nodded. “All right. Later. But I will ask again.”
“I know you will,” she said. There was a tiny bit of warmth in her tone. “Focus now, Harry.”
I turned toward the huge circular stone door at the end of the passage. It towered over us. Heavy stone, scale patterns carved across it in neat, repeating lines. A snake head formed in the center, fangs bared, eyes empty. Moisture trickled from somewhere high above, leaving dark streaks down the stone.
I walked right up to it until I could have touched the carvings with my fingertips. I closed my eyes for a moment and drew a slow breath. I pictured the basilisk that attacked me in my mind, the sound of its hissing voice.
I summoned up the feel of Parseltongue in my throat. Then I opened my eyes again and stared straight at the carved snake. “Open,” I said. The word slid out of my mouth in harsh, sharp hisses. I didn’t hear English. I heard something that belonged to reptiles. The magic in the air twisted in response.
The stone snake’s mouth shifted. The carved scales rippled. Lines in the door split. The heavy circular slab began to pull apart into thick rings, sliding away into the walls.
Behind me, Lilja sucked in a breath. “You really are a Parselmouth,” she said. There was no judgment in it. Just shock.
“Apparently,” I replied wondering where I inherited that power. “We can add that to the ever-growing list of weird shit about me later.”
The last ring slid open and locked with a deep thud, leaving a dark archway gaping in front of us. Cold air spilled out of the chamber beyond.
I stepped through.
The Chamber of Secrets stretched out in front of me, bigger than I’d expected even after all the stories. A long stone walkway ran down the center, bordered by water on both sides. Giant stone serpents coiled along the walls, their heads jutting out over the water, mouths open. At the far end, a massive stone face rose up. Slytherin’s ugly mug, most likely.
The air was heavy. Every sound bounced back at me. My own footsteps on the stone, the tiny drips from somewhere above, the faint rustle of the cloak as Lilja followed invisible at my side.
I could feel the faint, greasy trail of stray devil aura hanging in the space. It clung to the air near the floor, to the water, to the stones. It felt wrong in my senses, all hunger and decay and twisted magic. Fresh in some places, faint in others.
I didn’t see the monster. What I did see stopped my heart for half a second.
Jasmine lay on the stone about halfway down the walkway, sprawled on her side. Her messy brown hair fanned out across the floor. Her glasses were gone. Her Gryffindor robes were rumpled, one sleeve torn at the shoulder. Her legs were twisted at an uncomfortable angle, sock half off one foot.
She wasn’t moving.
I forced my feet to keep walking. I wanted to sprint, but that would have been stupid. This evil thing wanted me emotional and reckless. I was sure of it, and I could almost feel it hiding and watching me. I had no intention of handing it what it wanted.
I kept walking slowly into the massive, echoing chamber, every muscle in my body tense and ready. I kept my hands loose and open at my sides, my senses on high alert. The whole room felt ominously still, too quiet—like it was holding its breath and waiting for me to make the first mistake.
Keeping my voice steady, I glanced around the deserted chamber with open contempt. “Where the fuck are you hiding, Voldemort?” I called out, deliberately using the name to provoke him. “I didn’t come down here to play hide-and-seek with some pathetic coward. Come on out!”
My taunt hung in the air for barely a second before the surface of one of the large pools lining the walkway erupted violently upward, sending a cold spray of filthy water splashing across the stone and soaking my robes. From that murky fountain of slime-covered water, the ugliest damn creature I'd ever seen burst out and landed hard on the stone platform ahead of me.
I blinked in mild disgust as I took in Voldemort’s “new look.” The asshole wasn’t just ugly—he was revolting. His body was some sick, twisted combination of human and snake, covered in wet white scales. His torso was elongated and muscular, merging smoothly into a thick, sinuous serpent’s tail that whipped back and forth aggressively behind him. His arms and chest were disturbingly humanoid—lean muscles clearly defined beneath slimy scales—but his hands ended in wicked black talons, dripping with water. Most disturbing of all was his face—a grotesque blend of reptilian and human features, his nose flattened into a pair of slits, lips thin and pale, mouth crammed full of pointed, shark-like teeth.
Crimson eyes glowed angrily beneath a heavy, ridged brow, slitted pupils fixed with burning hatred right at me.
“Holy shit,” I muttered aloud, curling my lip with blatant disgust. “You know, I expected fucked up—but damn, Voldemort, did you actually choose to look this disgusting?”
He roared furiously and lunged forward, his thick serpentine tail slicing through the air toward my head. I threw myself forward and dropped into a tight roll, feeling the heavy, scaled mass of his tail pass just inches over me, close enough to whip wind across my neck.
I sprang back up onto my feet smoothly, turning to face him again.
Voldemort hissed loudly, spittle flying from his twisted mouth. His clawed hand rose sharply, and an unmistakable sickly green glow swirled into existence around his fingers. “Avada Kedavra!” he snarled viciously.
I reacted instantly, pulling moisture from the air and the pools around us. I thrust my palm forward, forming a dense, swirling vortex of water. The deadly curse struck my watery shield head-on, the green energy bursting apart on impact and exploding into thick clouds of superheated steam. The air hissed and filled rapidly with hot, billowing vapor, engulfing nearly half the chamber in moments.
Perfect cover for Lilja, I realized quickly. Even through the steam, my senses tracked her movements easily as she sprinted silently toward Jasmine’s unconscious form on the ground.
I had to buy her time.
But a thought flashed into my mind—Voldemort was basically a snake now, and snakes could often sense heat signatures.
I had no intention of letting him notice Jasmine’s body disappearing right out from under his ugly snout. Concentrating my power, I rapidly thickened the steam and heated it even further. Soon, it became a nearly impenetrable curtain of boiling mist—completely blinding thermal vision.
Voldemort let out a furious, frustrated hiss as he lost sight of me. “And now who hides like a coward, Harry Sitri?” he growled. His voice echoed through the chamber, slithering around me unpleasantly as he began circling my position slowly. I could hear his massive body dragging itself through pools of water, scales scraping loudly across stone as he searched blindly for me. “Come out and face me, little half-devil. Or are you afraid of true power?”
I laughed mockingly, deliberately projecting confidence. “Real power?” I taunted back, carefully moving in the opposite direction, staying hidden in the steam. “Don’t kid yourself, Snakeface. You're a washed-up poser hiding in Hogwarts' sewers.”
His voice erupted again, enraged. “I am perfection now!” Voldemort bellowed furiously. “The true Dark Lord reborn! My glorious form will inspire terror when I claim my rightful place ruling the Wizarding World!”
I rolled my eyes openly, though he couldn’t see it through the steam. “Buddy, if you think looking like a giant mutant dick is inspiring anything besides nausea, you're even crazier than I thought.”
Another furious roar echoed, and suddenly, beneath my feet, I sensed a surge of deadly magic. I didn’t hesitate—my devil wings burst from my back in an instant, launching me upward as the stone floor where I’d stood moments before dissolved into bubbling pools of smoking acid.
The steam around us dispersed instantly as Voldemort used a violent gust of wind magic to clear the air. He glared upward at me, but I felt a rush of relief—Jasmine’s unconscious form was already gone.
Lilja was insanely fast—thank fuck for that.
I hovered steadily about ten feet off the ground as I stared Voldemort down. My blue eyes locked fiercely onto his glowing red ones, holding them without flinching. His gaze burned with insane hatred—focused entirely on me, unaware that his victim had vanished right out from under his slimy nose.
We stared at each other, neither of us blinking. He cocked his disgusting scaled head, showing sharp teeth that looked like they belonged more to a shark than a snake.
“At lasssst, we meet properly, Harry Ssssitri,” Voldemort hissed slowly. Each 's' stretched uncomfortably, like he was savoring the way my name rolled off his forked tongue. His thick, muscular tail coiled and twisted lazily behind him, scraping unpleasantly against the wet stone floor.
“Oh, we're talking now?” I mocked, flexing my broad black wings to hover comfortably out of his reach. “Sorry, man, got the wrong impression—I thought you just wanted me dead without all the chatter.”
Voldemort's lipless mouth stretched wider into a nasty grin. He looked disgustingly pleased with himself. “Oh, I will certainly kill you, half-devil—there is no quesssstion about that. Especially ssssince you were foolish enough to confront me alone. But,” he spread his taloned hands theatrically, his thin chest rising with grandiose pride, “given that you've somehow managed to survive my impeccable ambush, I’ll grant you the glory of conversing with true greatnessss before I devour you whole.”
I rolled my eyes dramatically, barely bothering to hide my contempt. “Damn, is every stray devil this fucking arrogant and insane, or are you just special?” I floated slightly closer, just out of his striking distance. “Get to your point, dickface. I’ve got better things to do tonight than entertain a narcissistic snake-man's ego.”
Voldemort tilted his grotesque head, ignoring my insults entirely. His burning red eyes narrowed intensely, studying me with a weirdly fascinated look. His clawed fingers curled, digging impatiently into his palm. “There is one question I have been dying to know ever since I discovered your bizarre existence, Harry Sitri.” His voice grew lower, rasping with obsessive curiosity. “You might be some sort of half-breed devil, yes. But even then—how was it that an infant managed to destroy the greatest wizard Britain has ever known? How did a pathetic, powerless baby defeat Lord Voldemort nineteen years ago!?”
I paused, genuinely confused. Was he fucking serious? “Wait—wouldn't you know the answer to that yourself?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Dude, I was literally a baby. You think I remember jack shit about that?”
Voldemort let out an irritated hiss, obviously displeased with my casual dismissal. His twisted mouth curled into an annoyed grimace. “Fool! I was not there personally!” His voice was bitter, resentful. “My memories only extend until my fiftieth year, then abruptly cease. A shameful gap in knowledge—one that I deeply resent.”
I blinked slowly, filing that weird bit of information away for later.
So, what the fuck was he then? Some kind of weird copy of Voldemort? I mean, I was hardly an expert on magic shit, but I’d been around enough crazy crap lately to guess. Had Voldemort made some creepy magical portrait of himself? Did Katarea Leviathan shove an Evil Piece into it and bring it to life somehow? Nah, that sounded batshit insane even for my world. Maybe some twisted cloning ritual bullshit as a backup plan?
Honestly, nothing would surprise me anymore.
Finally, I shrugged dismissively. “Yeah, sorry, I honestly have no fucking clue,” I admitted bluntly, giving him a bored stare. “And even if I did know, I definitely don't like you enough to bother telling you.”
His already-creepy face twisted further, a wave of violent rage flaring in his red eyes. “It doesn’t matter!” Voldemort snarled violently, saliva dripping off his pointed teeth. “Once I tear your limbs apart and feast upon your flesh, your mind and soul will surrender every secret to me! Every morsel of your memory will belong to—”
He suddenly froze, mid-threat, his body jerking sharply upright. His crimson eyes widened in shocked disbelief. For a split second, I thought he'd finally realized that Jasmine had vanished from the stone platform behind him, but—no, it wasn’t that. He wasn’t looking behind himself at all.
Instead, Voldemort's hateful stare fixed directly on my chest. His entire face contorted with a new, furious kind of horror. “You...!” he whispered, voice suddenly shaky and brittle with panic. “I CAN FEEL IT, you damned devil spawn! You consumed a fragment of my soul! You devoured one of my Horcruxes!” His voice rose rapidly into an enraged scream. “RETURN IT IMMEDIATELY!”
I stared back at him, utterly confused and more than a little disgusted. “I did what to your what?” I asked incredulously, completely baffled. “Man, you need some serious psychiatric help—”
“GIVE IT BACK, DEVIL THIEF!” he shrieked hysterically, almost unhinged now, his bony claws trembling violently. His entire serpentine form began to shiver with uncontrolled fury. He lifted both hands suddenly, fingers curling sharply, gathering streams of dark green and black energy into his palms.
Instinct screamed at me to move, fast. With a furious flick of his wrists, Voldemort hurled multiple dark, violently sizzling curses straight at my hovering body.
“Shit!” I snapped my wings sharply downward, jerking myself hard sideways through the air. The curses exploded viciously against the stone ceiling behind me, blasting chunks of rock and debris in every direction. A chunk of stone clipped my shoulder, sending a hot stab of pain racing down my arm.
“You little shit!” I snarled angrily, diving lower to evade his next volley of spells. “Can’t we at least finish our conversation before you have another psychotic episode?”
“I will strip that soul fragment from your still-beating heart, you insolent half-breed!” Voldemort bellowed, his long serpentine body surging forward aggressively, his twisted expression pure, frothing madness. “I will devour you alive!”
Another wave of deadly curses hurtled toward me, streaking violently through the air. I jerked aside again, weaving and twisting desperately as the magic ripped past my head and wings. The heat and force of the spells scorched painfully against my skin.
Frustrated and pissed off, I shot backward, wings pumping hard to gain a bit of distance. Voldemort’s heavy tail whipped forward suddenly, aiming to smash me into the stone. I reacted purely on reflex, thrusting both hands outward, gathering a thick, dense wall of swirling water directly in front of myself.
His massive tail slammed hard into my makeshift shield. Water exploded violently, spraying everywhere and temporarily obscuring Voldemort’s vision for a few seconds I used to my advantage.
I thrust out my right hand, channeling raw demonic energy. Moisture rushed from the chamber's stagnant pools and trickled violently from the dripping stone walls, rapidly gathering into a long, sharp blade of pressurized water. It solidified in my grip, cold and razor-sharp. I flexed my fingers tighter around the handle, feeling the smooth, swirling flow beneath my palm, ready to carve snake meat.
In my left hand, I called on my Sacred Gear. I drew on the magic I’d gained from bonding with Fleur, Gabrielle, and even Apolline—the Veela flames roared into existence across my palm, stronger and brighter than ever before. The vivid, passionate pink fire surged between my fingers, blazing hotly in my palm with a heat so intense it left a visible shimmer in the stale chamber air.
Shit, the flames felt even more potent than before—probably because I’d recently fucked another Veela senseless. Guess that boosted my magical potency, somehow. My Sacred Gear was awesome…
I didn't give Voldemort even a single second to think. Cocking back my arm, I hurled the burning pink flames straight toward his hideous serpentine form.
Voldemort reacted immediately, but in the most idiotic way possible. Instead of conjuring a barrier or casting a counterspell or a shield, he swung around his massive, slimy tail to intercept my flaming projectile. Was he completely insane, or was he just that arrogant?
Either way, he was about to learn how stupid of a decision that was.
My Veela flames smashed violently into Voldemort's thick, scaly tail, exploding in a scorching wave of fire and heat that instantly filled the chamber. Scales cracked and blistered, blasted clear off in smoking chunks. The air filled with the rancid scent of burning snake flesh. Voldemort's pained, furious scream tore through the chamber, echoing off every surface as he violently writhed and twisted.
“You damned filthy half-devil!” he howled furiously, thrashing his tail in agony. Smoke rose thickly from the blackened wounds as bits of burnt flesh peeled away, revealing raw muscle and sinew beneath. “How dare you damage my perfected form!”
“Perfected form?” I snapped back with a snort, feet hitting the stone floor hard as I dropped out of my hover. “Dude, you look like the illegitimate offspring of a snake and a pile of rotting garbage.”
I charged forward without pause, my blade of swirling pressurized water clenched firmly in my grip, ready to slice straight through him. Voldemort’s hateful red eyes flashed dangerously, his lips curling into a twisted, manic grin.
“Oh, you enjoy playing with fire, do you, Harry?” Voldemort snarled. His bony fingers curled viciously. “Then how about this! PROTEGO DIABOLICA!”
A rush of dark, chilling power surged outwards from his body. Deep blue flames instantly erupted into existence around him, twisting into a violently swirling inferno. They roared outward, forming a living wall of blazing heat and destruction, expanding rapidly to surround his body in a blazing protective vortex.
Shit—my instincts screamed at me. I planted both feet hard against the stone floor, skidding abruptly to a halt inches from the furious wall of blue fire. My water blade clipped the very edge of Voldemort’s new flames—and the instant it did, something fucking impossible happened.
My blade of demonic water caught fire!
The sword in my grip erupted into violent flames, burning hotter and hotter by the second, scorching my palm painfully. I cursed loudly, forced to drop my weapon immediately. It shattered into sizzling droplets, vanishing in a burst of steam against the stone floor.
“What the fuck kind of spell is that?” I demanded angrily, backpedaling quickly to create distance. I stared warily at those swirling azure flames—unnatural, demonic, and radiating a frightening amount of heat. My demonic instincts screamed a warning, whatever the hell he’d just conjured, it was genuinely dangerous.
Voldemort let out a hideous, mocking laugh. The smug bastard stood confidently amidst the roaring blue inferno, scales gleaming and eyes blazing with pride. “Witness the legendary signature spell of the great—and equally foolish—Gellert Grindelwald!” he crowed triumphantly. “A dark wizard who nearly conquered the entire world through the terror of this very magic!”
“Grindelwald, huh?” I muttered, glaring into those deep, raging blue flames. Yeah, I remembered Hermione briefly mentioning that psycho wizard in her lectures about magical history. “Figures you'd rip off another guy’s spell, you unimaginative fuck.”
Voldemort’s grin twisted into a nasty sneer, his tail lashing sharply through the air, sending sparks and embers flying in every direction. “I'll show you firsthand why it terrified nations!”
He thrust his scaled arms forward sharply, and the swirling demonic flames suddenly surged straight toward me, roaring hungrily forward like a living, ravenous beast eager to devour my flesh.
“Shit!” I hissed sharply, reacting immediately. I threw both hands outward, desperately pulling moisture from everywhere—the pools lining the chamber, condensation on the stone walls, even conjuring water directly from my own reserves of demonic power. Every drop of water rushed obediently forward, swirling into a massive, roaring wave.
My conjured tsunami slammed violently into Voldemort’s blue inferno. For several tense, grueling moments, fire and water wrestled fiercely for dominance. Violent explosions of steam erupted between us, scorching hot vapor burning my exposed skin and forcing me to squint through the haze. My muscles strained as I pushed harder, pouring even more demonic energy into the fight until finally, slowly, painfully—my water snuffed out every last remnant of Voldemort’s demonic fire.
I stumbled slightly as I felt the massive drain on my reserves. Fuck, that cost me far more demonic power than I intended. That damn spell wasn’t a joke, it was genuinely powerful.
But I could also sense he used a tremendous amount of his own power as well. Demonic power could copy wizard spells perfectly, but they were heavily draining since in the end, it was magic meant for humans and not devils. Voldemort obviously did not know that because all he’d been using against me was wandless dark wizard spells.
Across from me, Voldemort hissed furiously, glaring at me with open hatred and barely concealed disbelief. The bastard probably hadn’t expected me to actually survive that.
“Well,” I panted roughly, straightening back up and forcing myself to maintain a confident stance despite the weariness seeping through my bones. “Guess Grindelwald’s fancy spell wasn’t quite as unstoppable as you thought, huh, Snakeface?”
He snarled, red eyes glowing brighter, slitted pupils narrowed to vicious points. “You arrogant devil-spawn,” he hissed dangerously, sharp teeth clenched tightly. “Do not mistake momentary survival for victory. I'll tear the limbs from your body and consume you piece by agonizing piece!”
"No, you fucking won’t!" Lilja’s voice sliced sharply through the chamber, echoing harshly off every wet, stone surface.
Voldemort spun around in startled confusion, barely having time to register her presence behind him. His furious snarl became an agonized scream of pure pain as Lilja's blade flashed brutally downward, cleaving straight through scale, muscle, and bone. His entire right arm dropped with a thick, wet thud onto the partially melted stone floor. The severed limb flopped grotesquely for a moment, blackish-red blood spurting messily from the stump and pooling into steaming, bubbling puddles.
Lilja darted swiftly around him, moving with a speed and precision that made my breath catch in admiration. Her vivid red hair whipped out behind her as she blurred past Voldemort, landing smoothly at my side. She spun to face the monster once more, tossing her crimson hair back and lifting her gleaming sword threateningly, her green eyes flashing like emerald blades in the darkness.
She turned briefly, and our gazes locked. I couldn't help the genuine, delighted grin spreading across my face.
She matched it instantly, her lips quirking up at one corner into a playful yet fierce smirk of her own.
"You little bastard!" Voldemort shrieked, his distorted face twisting in agony and fury. Dark blood continued pumping from his wound, staining his white scales black. He clutched uselessly at the bleeding stump with his remaining hand, crimson eyes flaring wide with rage. "You cowardly piece of devil shit! You didn't even have the courage to fight me alone, you pathetic whelp!"
"Uh huh," I drawled sarcastically, waving him off dismissively. "Keep crying about it, Snakeface. Honestly, you just got owned by a girl half your size—maybe work on your fighting skills before throwing around insults?"
His face contorted hideously, lips peeling back to bare rows of needle-sharp teeth dripping with saliva and blood. "For this disgusting arrogance," he snarled, his voice trembling violently with barely restrained hatred, "I'll tear apart my hostage right in front of—"
His rant cut short as he glanced backward and finally realized Jasmine's unconscious body had vanished completely. His gaze frantically searched the ground around him, finding only empty space where Jasmine had lain moments earlier. His confusion twisted immediately into incandescent fury, his entire serpentine form trembling with barely contained rage.
"WHAT IS THIS?! WHERE IS THE GIRL?!" Voldemort shrieked hysterically, spinning violently toward us once more, his grotesque features utterly livid.
Lilja stepped forward slowly, sword pointing directly at Voldemort’s grotesque face. Her expression was cold, disgust radiating palpably from every tense muscle in her beautiful form. Her emerald eyes burned with fury as she spoke, her voice dripping venom. "Voldemort," she spat his name like a curse, far more intensely than when she’d spoken Pettigrew’s earlier. "You disgusting, pathetic monster! After everything you've done—everyone you've hurt—I swear you will pay tonight. You're dying in this chamber!"
Voldemort let out a deranged laugh that echoed sharply, cruelly. His bloodied lips twisted into a savage sneer as he drew himself up to his full height, his grotesque form towering menacingly. "I will do no such thing, little Valkyrie slut," he growled hatefully. "I am immortal! You fools can't comprehend the power I command!" He raised his head and let out a horrifying hiss that slithered sickeningly through the air. "Come, my child! Come to your sire’s aid!"
Suddenly, behind Voldemort, the enormous stone carving of Salazar Slytherin’s ugly-ass head began to shift, scraping loudly. Its mouth opened slowly, with a heavy grinding of stone on stone. From inside the dark cavern of that ugly mug’s mouth came a wet, slithering sound.
"Oh, fuck me," I groaned, watching in disbelief as yet another giant basilisk—just as fucking enormous as the one I'd fought before—slowly began crawling out of the statue’s mouth. Its huge, armored head emerged first, followed by a muscular body that seemed endlessly long, slick scales glistening in the dim torchlight as it slid forward. Its pale, yellow eyes glittered maliciously as it turned to glare directly at Lilja and me, massive jaws opening slightly to reveal long, dripping fangs.
“I will kill anyone who dares bully my mother!” the basilisk hissed angrily, its voice a deep, guttural rumble echoing loudly off the chamber walls.
“...”
Wait—WHAT THE FUCK DID IT JUST SAY???
I blinked, shook my head, and stared incredulously. “Did that giant snake just call Voldemort its mother?” I muttered aloud, feeling an absurd laugh starting to build uncontrollably in my chest.
No matter how serious the situation was, the mental image that conjured was simply too damn ridiculous.
Without meaning to, I threw my head back and laughed! Unable to hold it back even though I knew this was probably the absolute worst fucking time for it!
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Voldemort’s glare swung sharply toward me, eyes bulging madly with insane rage. “What's so amusing, Sitri?!” he demanded furiously, his voice quivering dangerously. Beside me, Lilja glanced sideways, her eyebrows raised in clear disbelief, probably wondering if I'd lost my mind.
But I just couldn't stop laughing. Finally managing to catch my breath, I shook my head slowly, a wide grin plastered across my face. “Seriously? Did I hear that right?” I asked, still chuckling despite the deadly tension in the air. “That giant fucking monster snake just called you its mother! How exactly did that work? Did you squat down here in the chamber and pop an egg straight out your asshole, Voldy?”
Lilja’s face twisted immediately into disgusted horror, nose wrinkling visibly. “Ew, Harry!” she exclaimed, clearly disturbed by the blunt mental image I’d just painted.
XXX
I'm sorry for the cliffhanger...
Comments
Oopsibwokeit
Voldemort, even this embodied fused Horcrux version, isn't just a stray devil. He's still an experienced dark lord with a great deal of knowledge to draw on, his power boosted by his status as a stray devil. He's lacking in experience being a devil and using their brand of magic, but he's still got some tricks to pull against the younger opponents.
Gr1ffin
I'm confused on why it is so difficult to kill this portion of Voldemort? He's a smallish portion of a soul, even if he's been turned into a stray? He shouldn't be able to really cause that much of an issue to Lilja... if Odin is sending her out on missions, she should be strong enough to deal with most strays and the normally low class or weaker wizards. Unless wizards are relatively equal with the wider dxd supernatural world? Sure, Voldemort might be more powerful, but that's debatable with the horcrux issues...
I am lord dems
I was hoping those rabbits were going to be Caerbannog rabbits. Loving this by the way
