Chapter Text
Hey everyone! Welcome to one of my newest stories. It's a Harry Potter / DxD crossover. I hope you all like it! This story will exclusively have long chapters.
Chapter 1:
– Harry –
“Wake up, Potter! It's your fucking birthday!" Dudley shouted, banging his heavy fist loudly on my old bedroom door.
My eyes snapped open, startled awake by Dudley's booming voice and relentless pounding. A tired groan escaped my lips as I rolled over, blinking the sleep from my eyes. Even at nineteen, Dudley's excitement for birthdays was off the charts.
It was weird being back here in my childhood bedroom—same old posters peeling at the corners, the faded carpet, the bed that was suddenly too small now. I'd moved out a year ago, the day I turned eighteen and finally tasted some real freedom. Still, family tradition and all, I was always back here for birthdays and holidays, letting Dudley and my aunt and uncle feel like we were still connected.
Dragging myself up, I kicked off the blankets, feeling a rush of chilly morning air against my bare skin. I rubbed my face, yawning deeply again as I got up and stretched, feeling my muscles loosen. I headed to the closet, pulling out a clean towel before stepping into the hall.
The bathroom door creaked as I pushed it open. I stripped down quickly, stepping into the shower and turning the water on hot. Steam filled the tiny space, fogging up the mirror, as I stood under the water, letting it run down my body.
After thoroughly scrubbing myself clean, washing away the sleepiness, I turned off the shower and wrapped the towel loosely around my hips. I swiped a hand across the foggy mirror, clearing a patch of reflective glass, and stared at myself closely.
The guy in the mirror looking back at me was pretty damn handsome, if I did say so myself. I had those piercing blue eyes that college girls always seemed to lose themselves in. My black hair hung straight and sleek down to my shoulders—girls liked running their fingers through it. Swimming had done wonders for my body, leaving me lean but muscular, broad shoulders tapering down to toned abs.
Damn, I looked good…
Feeling more awake, I headed back into the bedroom, pulling on a snug black t-shirt that hugged my chest and arms just right, and some worn blue jeans. Running a hand through my hair to shake off the excess moisture, I glanced at my reflection in the dresser mirror one more time, giving a satisfied smirk.
"Harry! Hurry the hell up, birthday boy!" Dudley called impatiently from downstairs, sounding hungry enough to tear into breakfast already.
"Yeah, yeah, chill out," I shouted back.
Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were already sitting around the kitchen table when I came downstairs. The smell of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee drifted toward me, waking me up even more.
“Happy birthday, Harry,” Uncle Vernon said warmly, surprising me with a genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
“Thanks, Uncle Vernon,” I replied, stepping forward to hug him. My uncle was still a large guy, broad-shouldered and built like a bear, but the hug he gave me back was gentle.
It was weird, when I was a kid, Vernon acted annoyed whenever I was around. Treating me—not great actually.
But then, sometime after I turned sixteen, things changed drastically. Suddenly, Uncle Vernon was treating me like family— like I was the nephew he wanted at long last . I never figured out why he didn’t like me at first, though, but I never brought it up. Might as well keep the good thing going and all that.
Aunt Petunia stood near the stove, sliding another batch of pancakes onto a platter. She smiled when she saw me. “Sit, Harry. Eat while it's hot,” she insisted, putting the pancakes on the table. “Go on, boys, dig in.”
She didn't have to tell Dudley twice. He already had a forkful halfway to his mouth, syrup dripping onto his plate. I smirked, amused. Dudley was no longer the pudgy, round kid he had been back in secondary school. Ever since he'd discovered boxing, he'd gotten leaner, his arms strong and toned beneath his loose-fitting hoodie.
I sat down across from him and grabbed a stack of pancakes, pouring syrup over them generously.
“How does it feel being nineteen, man?” Dudley asked with his mouth half-full, grinning across at me.
“Pretty much like being eighteen,” I shrugged, cutting a bite from my pancakes. “Just older and still clueless about adult life.”
Dudley chuckled, swallowing before he spoke again. “Yeah, sounds about right.”
I glanced at my cousin again and remembered how we'd both gotten into sports around the same time. While Dudley took to boxing, I found swimming. Something about the water called to me—not in some metaphorical sense, but literally.
I always felt connected to water… And I could literally breathe underwater , which was definitely not normal, but I'd always been smart enough to keep that a secret. It did give me a massive advantage in the swimming pool, though, enough to get a university scholarship, just like Dudley got one for boxing as well.
Petunia sat down next to Vernon, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She took a small sip, eyeing Dudley and me fondly. “So,” she said brightly, “do my two boys have any special plans today?”
Dudley shrugged, glancing at me again. “Up to Harry. It’s his big day.”
I finished swallowing a bite of pancake before responding, leaning back casually in my chair. “Haven't thought much about it yet. But I’m sure Dudley can come up with something entertaining enough.”
“Oh, you bet your ass I can,” Dudley grinned wickedly.
“Language, Dudley!” Aunt Petunia snapped sharply, giving him a pointed look. Dudley just shrugged, unfazed as usual, stuffing another forkful of pancake into his mouth.
Beside her, Uncle Vernon chuckled deeply. "Alright, alright," Vernon said cheerfully, pulling something out of his pocket. "I've got something special for you two." He slid a pair of tickets across the table, looking pleased with himself.
Dudley practically lunged for them, his eyes widening in excitement as he saw what was printed. "Holy shit—football tickets? Seriously, Dad?"
Petunia cleared her throat, shooting Dudley another glare, but Vernon just laughed again. "Yeah, thought you boys might enjoy yourselves today."
I grinned, leaning forward to glance at the tickets Dudley held tightly. Football wasn't exactly my passion, but there was something undeniably exciting about being in a roaring crowd, the energy pulsing through the stands and the noise overwhelming my senses.
I was riding shotgun in Dudley's car, drumming my fingers on the passenger door as we weaved through the busy London streets toward the stadium. Dudley gripped the wheel tightly, his eyes practically shining with excitement. "England is going to kick ass today, Harry! I just fucking know it," Dudley announced confidently, glancing over at me with an enthusiastic grin.
I leaned back in my seat, smirking mischievously. "We'll see," I said, deciding right then to root loudly for the opposing team just to annoy him. It was a small pleasure, but the look on Dudley's face would definitely be worth it.
He shot me a sideways look, chuckling as he shook his head. Then, his expression suddenly shifted, and his grin turned sly. "Hey Harry, think you could work your magic later today? Like you used to do back in secondary school?"
My heart skipped a beat, and my fingers stopped drumming against the door. "My magic?" I echoed nervously, swallowing hard as my pulse quickened.
Did Dudley figure something out?
Before my thoughts spiraled too far, Dudley burst out laughing. "I'm talking about your magic with chicks, idiot! That stupidly handsome face of yours always drew the girls like crazy. Help a guy out, will you? Let's score some hot babes to celebrate after the game."
Relief washed over me instantly, and I chuckled weakly, feeling slightly embarrassed at my jumpy reaction. "Yeah, yeah, I'll see what I can do," I replied, relaxing back into the seat again.
He did not know... That was good.
My thoughts drifted back to my school days, triggered by Dudley's teasing comment. I felt warmth rising in my cheeks, remembering all the attention I used to get back then. Girls would literally chase after me in the hallways, blatant invitations and sliding their numbers into my locker.
I had a bit of a reputation back in school, and not without reason. Whatever it was that set me apart from normal people also made me ridiculously horny all the time. My urges had always been intense, way stronger than other guys my age. Recently, I've really tried to tone it all down, to get my impulses under control.
But honestly, I was failing spectacularly. At least I was trying—effort had to count for something, right?
Dudley's sudden whoop jolted me out of my thoughts as we pulled into the stadium parking lot. The place was packed—rows and rows of cars, flags waving in the breeze, loud music blasting, and excited fans shouting and laughing around grills and coolers.
"Hell yes! Now this is what I’m talking about," Dudley cheered enthusiastically, slamming the car into park.
I chuckled, feeling Dudley's excitement rubbing off on me. "Alright, let's go find some trouble," I joked, opening the passenger door and stepping out into the noisy, crowded lot.
…
Vernon definitely went all out on our tickets, because Dudley and I were sitting practically front-row, close enough that I could see the sweat dripping off the players' faces. I'd never been a huge football fan, but the wild energy buzzing through the stadium drew me in. Before long, I was on my feet, screaming and cheering along with Dudley and the rest of the crowd.
By the time the whistle blew for full-time, England lost by just one goal, but they played one hell of a match. The crowd wasn't even that upset...
I chuckled quietly, realizing there'd probably just be a small riot on the streets of London tonight instead of a full-scale disaster.
But football wasn't the only interesting thing going on today. Right next to Dudley and me, there were two gorgeous blonde girls who'd had my attention practically the whole time. Their looks would seriously make magazine cover models jealous.
One seemed a bit older, maybe early twenties, with silky blonde hair falling past her shoulders and bright blue eyes that kept sneaking curious glances at me. Her younger sister looked about my age, with equally stunning features—soft pink lips, flawless skin, and a confident little smirk every time our eyes met.
Dudley elbowed me sharply in the ribs as the crowd started filing out. He leaned close, whispering urgently into my ear, "Don't let me down, Potter. Those girls are hot as fuck. Go talk to them!"
"Alright, alright," I muttered, rolling my eyes but grinning anyway. I stood up, stretching casually as I turned toward the two girls.
"So," I said, smiling warmly, catching their attention instantly. "What'd you think about the game? Pretty intense, right?"
Both girls looked surprised for a second, then smiled back, their cheeks turning slightly pink.
The older one giggled softly as she leaned in a little closer. "Oui, it was fantastic," she said, her voice dripping with a thick French accent that's both sweet and sexy. "So much excitement. We almost won, non?"
"Very close," the younger one chimed in, leaning forward a bit as well, her accent just as alluring as her sister's. "You English boys are quite passionate fans."
Holy shit, those French accents were amazing…
I laughed softly, feeling a warm flush creep across my face. Dudley nudged me again, clearly thrilled by the attention we were getting.
"I'm Harry, by the way," I told them smoothly. "This is my cousin Dudley."
The beautiful French girls turned to us, their smiles bright and charming. The older one tilted her head slightly, brushing back her long, shimmering blonde hair, and introduced herself first. "I'm Fleur Delacour," she said confidently, her accent thick and appealing, "and this is my sister, Gabrielle."
Gabrielle gave us a sweet smile, her blue eyes meeting mine for a moment before she shyly looked away.
Dudley, clearly feeling bold, leaned forward slightly, giving them his most charming grin. "So tell me, what's a couple of French beauties like yourselves doing stuck here in dreary old England?"
Fleur laughed softly, the sound clear and musical, while Gabrielle giggled into her hand. Dudley looked pleased, obviously thinking he'd just nailed it.
"We're here for a school tournament," Fleur explained patiently. "Our private school sent us to compete. But that tournament doesn't actually start until October, about a month away."
Gabrielle nodded, her expression brightening a little more. "We're here early to settle in and practice."
Dudley grinned wider, glancing at me with his eyebrows wiggling dramatically. "Right on, then. So that means you've got plenty of time to check out the sights and meet new people."
Both girls rolled their eyes, playfully amused by his obvious attempt at flirting. It was clear to me—and probably to Dudley, judging by his deflated expression—that they were much more interested in talking to me than to my cousin. I almost felt bad for Dudley, but then again, being devilishly handsome came with its own set of perks and problems.
Smiling at Fleur and Gabrielle, I casually said, "Dudley and I were thinking of grabbing some food at a restaurant near the stadium. If we hurry, we can beat the rush. You two want to join?"
Fleur glanced at Gabrielle, their eyes exchanging a quick look before turning back to me.
"Oui," Fleur answered immediately, smiling warmly. "That sounds lovely."
Gabrielle's cheeks turned a slight shade of pink as she nodded in agreement. "Yes, we'd love to come."
Dudley turned to me, an excited, triumphant grin on his face. I shot him an amused look, already knowing exactly what he was thinking.
Dudley might be getting excited over nothing, I thought quietly, glancing back at Fleur and Gabrielle through the rear-view mirror. These girls were classy, nothing like the ones who used to throw themselves at me in school. They were obviously interested—otherwise, they wouldn't have agreed to come out to eat with us—but I doubted they were looking to jump straight into my bed. Or Dudley's. Though judging by how they were ignoring my cousin completely, he was probably out of luck anyway.
"So, 'Arry," Fleur spoke up, leaning slightly forward from the backseat, her beautiful accent filling the car with each word. "Tell us about yourself. How old are you?"
I glanced back at her, smiling. "I'm nineteen. Dudley and I are both at university. I got in on a swimming scholarship."
Gabrielle's eyes sparkled with curiosity. She leaned forward too, resting her arms casually on the back of my seat. "Swimming? Oui, I can tell. You definitely 'ave ze body of an athlete."
I grinned, feeling warmth creep into my cheeks. Before I could say anything back, Gabrielle suddenly reached out and gently squeezed my bicep. Her fingers lingered a little longer than necessary, sending a jolt of heat through my body.
"Gabrielle!" Fleur scolded playfully, pulling her sister's hand away. "You are being too forward."
Gabrielle giggled, completely unfazed. "Oh, come on, Fleur. You were zinking ze same thing."
"Maybe," Fleur replied with a mischievous smile, her eyes flicking to mine for just a second too long. "But zat does not mean you should grab 'im like zat."
Dudley loudly cleared his throat, obviously trying to pull the conversation his way. "Well, I box. Got myself a scholarship too," he said proudly, glancing back hopefully.
Fleur turned politely toward Dudley for a moment. "Oh, zat is nice," she said sweetly, giving him a quick smile. But her eyes slid back to me almost instantly, clearly uninterested in talking to anyone else.
Dudley deflated visibly, muttering something under his breath, and I had to bite back a laugh.
We pulled into the diner parking lot, and thankfully the place wasn't crowded yet. Most people were probably still at the stadium, meaning we had the place mostly to ourselves.
I jumped out first, moving around quickly to open the door for Fleur and Gabrielle.
"Ah, such a gentleman," Fleur teased softly, stepping out gracefully and smiling warmly at me. "Merci, 'Arry."
Gabrielle hopped out next, her hand briefly touching mine as she moved past. "Oui, merci," she whispered shyly.
We sat down in a booth near the back of the diner, Dudley sliding in beside me with a loud sigh of relief. The two girls sat directly across from us, their perfect blonde hair catching the diner’s bright overhead lights. Dudley immediately grabbed a menu and flipped it open, leaning forward eagerly.
"So, what're you getting, Potter?" Dudley asked, rubbing his stomach dramatically. "After cheering all game, I'm starving. Seriously, I could eat a whole football team!" He laughed loudly at his own dumb joke, elbowing me lightly in the ribs.
I just chuckled and rolled my eyes, flipping through my own menu casually. But when I glanced up, I noticed the two French girls suddenly freeze. Fleur's blue eyes widened, her lips slightly parted, and Gabrielle's expression looked like someone had just shocked her.
Gabrielle suddenly leaned forward across the table, staring intently at me with bright, eager eyes. Her gaze traveled slowly up and down my face, as if she were studying every detail carefully.
"Wait… eez your name really 'Arry Potter?" Gabrielle asked, sounding breathless with excitement.
"Um, yeah," I said slowly, feeling a bit puzzled. "That's what my parents named me…."
Gabrielle gasped softly, turning quickly and poking her older sister in the arm repeatedly. "Fleur! You 'eard zat, oui? We are actually sitting wiz 'Arry Potter himself!" Fleur seemed equally stunned, looking at me like she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. Gabrielle leaned closer to me again, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement. "'Arry, you were my childhood 'ero," she said eagerly, her eyes sparkling with genuine admiration. "I used to write you letters all ze time. Did you ever receive any of zem?"
I blinked a couple of times, feeling awkward and confused. "Letters? Uh, no, I never got any letters. Are you sure you've got the right Harry Potter?" I asked.
Gabrielle looked disappointed, but Fleur chuckled softly, shaking her head with an amused smile.
"Gabrielle, zis eez probably just a funny coincidence," Fleur said gently, placing a calming hand on her sister’s arm. She turned to me again with a small apologetic shrug. "Unless, of course, your parents were named James and Lily Potter?" she asked with a touch of sarcasm.
I froze at her words, feeling my stomach twist strangely. I scratched my cheek awkwardly, staring at Fleur and Gabrielle in surprise. "Um…yeah, actually," I said slowly, my voice hesitant. "They were."
Both sisters stared at me, eyes wide in stunned silence.
Dudley looked between us, completely confused, before he spoke up, sounding thoroughly lost. "Wait…what the hell is going on here?"
Gabrielle suddenly leaned forward across the table, her eyes bright with excitement. She clasped her hands together tightly and stared at me like she was about to burst. "'Arry, why did you never go to 'Ogwarts?" she blurted out eagerly, almost bouncing in her seat.
I just stared at her, completely lost. "Come to…what? What's a Hogwarts?"
That was a strange sounding term.
Gabrielle looked even more shocked, her eyes widening dramatically. "You do not know about 'Ogwarts? Ze wizarding school!?"
Before I could even answer, she was firing more questions at me, leaning even closer across the table. "Why did you disappear from ze wizarding world? Everyone zought ze Death Eaters secretly killed you! Where 'ave you been all zis time, 'Arry?"
I sat there feeling totally overwhelmed. Wizarding world? Death Eaters? What the hell was she even talking about?
"I…I honestly have no idea what you're saying," I finally told her, shaking my head. "I don't know about any wizarding world or Death Eaters or anything like that."
Gabrielle opened her mouth again, looking ready to fire off more questions, when suddenly Dudley interrupted loudly.
"Shit!" he exclaimed, eyes widening as he pointed directly at Fleur and Gabrielle. "You two— you're witches, aren't you?"
I turned to Dudley in shock, feeling irritated by his sudden rude outburst. "Dud, come on, that's a pretty rude thing to call classy women like them," I scolded him, embarrassed about what he had just called these classy girls.
But Dudley just shook his head insistently, looking completely serious for once. "No, Harry, you don't get it. I promised Mum and Dad I'd never talk about this stuff again, but magic—magic's real. They're witches, like, actual witches!"
I stared at Dudley, completely stunned, feeling my heart thud quickly in my chest.
Magic.
Real magic?
I'd always known something like magic was real. How else would I explain being able to breathe underwater, move faster than normal people, or even the wings I kept hidden from everyone else? But until now, I'd always believed I was totally alone.
Turning back to Fleur and Gabrielle, I gave them both an astonished look. "Witches, huh?" I said softly, still taking it all in. "That's…that's pretty cool, actually."
Gabrielle beamed excitedly, looking relieved that I finally seemed to understand. She leaned forward again, batting her eyelashes sweetly. "'Arry, please, you must tell us—"
But Fleur gently placed a hand on Gabrielle’s shoulder, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Gabrielle, slow down," she said calmly, giving her sister an affectionate but stern look. "Can't you see? Poor 'Arry Potter looks genuinely confused right now..."
Oh, I definitely was, but at the same time, I felt like this was going to turn out to be the most important day of my life.
Our food arrived a few minutes later, the waitress setting down large plates filled with greasy fish and chips, burgers stacked tall with melted cheese dripping down, and big cups of iced sodas. Fleur and Gabrielle stared at their plates in dismay, their beautiful faces scrunching up almost simultaneously in an expression of disgust.
I couldn't help but laugh quietly at their reaction. "What's the matter? Not up to your fancy French standards?" I teased lightly, picking up a fry and popping it casually into my mouth.
Gabrielle turned her head to glare at me playfully, her bright eyes narrowed slightly as she poked at her food with obvious disdain. "I do not understand 'ow you can stomach zis, 'Arry. Zis food is absolutely uncultured and disgusting," she said dramatically, giving a small pout of disapproval.
"Gabrielle," Fleur interjected with an amused smile, picking up her fork to carefully inspect a greasy fry. "You must not forget zat Britain conquered 'alf ze world in order to steal spices from everyone else, only to never actually use zem in zeir own cooking."
I laughed out loud at Fleur's joke, shaking my head slightly. "Fair point. But if you're too good for our British cuisine," I said jokingly, leaning forward with a mischievous smile, "I know a decent ice cream place just around the corner. Maybe that'll be a bit more to your tastes."
Both girls immediately brightened, exchanging hopeful grins, clearly excited by the suggestion. But before either could respond, the delicate silver watch on Gabrielle's wrist suddenly began blinking with a small red light, casting a faint glow onto the table.
Their expressions shifted instantly—Gabrielle looked startled and disappointed, her shoulders slumping, while Fleur's face grew serious, lips pressed tightly together.
"We apologize," Fleur said softly, placing her napkin down beside her barely touched plate. "But we cannot stay much longer."
Gabrielle's eyes widened and she opened her mouth, clearly about to protest. Fleur shot her a stern look, silencing whatever argument Gabrielle was preparing to make.
I glanced between the two sisters, feeling confused and concerned. "Hey, what's wrong? Everything okay?"
Gabrielle bit her lower lip nervously, her cheeks coloring faintly pink as she met my eyes with an embarrassed expression. "Well...you see, Fleur and I, we are not exactly normal witches ."
"What do you mean by 'not normal'?" I asked, tilting my head curiously.
Fleur sighed softly, meeting my gaze steadily as she explained. "In order to safely spend time around non-magical people, Gabrielle and I must wear zese enchanted watches." She gestured toward the blinking watch on Gabrielle's wrist. "Zey stop us from projecting something called Allure zat our kind naturally possesses."
"Allure?" I repeated, still lost. "What's that exactly?"
Gabrielle shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking shyly down at the table as she replied. "Eet is a magical charm zat makes people extremely attracted to us, sometimes uncontrollably so. Without ze enchantment, eet can cause... issues."
Fleur nodded in agreement, her voice gentle but firm. "Unfortunately, ze enchantments do not last very long. Zis is why we must go soon."
Gabrielle looked genuinely sad, her bright eyes glancing up at me apologetically. "We really did enjoy meeting you, 'Arry."
Dudley and I walked Fleur and Gabrielle out of the diner and into the cool evening air. The sun had already set, leaving a soft glow from the streetlights lining the sidewalk. Both girls paused, turning gracefully toward us with warm, slightly regretful smiles.
Gabrielle stepped forward first, clasping her delicate hands together in front of her, looking up at me with bright, hopeful eyes. "Eet was so lovely meeting you, 'Arry. I 'ope we see each other again very soon. I really do want to know more about my childhood 'ero!"
I smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck in confusion. Even after our conversation, I still had absolutely no clue what she meant about being her hero. "I'd like that too," I said honestly. "Maybe you can explain more about…well, everything."
Gabrielle nodded eagerly, reaching out to gently touch my arm. "Of course! If you really want answers, zere ees a place you can find zem." She glanced around, then leaned in close, her soft voice dropping into an intimate whisper. "Go to zis address in ze middle of London—ze wizarding world ees zere, 'Arry."
She carefully recited the address, watching intently as I repeated it quietly to myself. Once she was satisfied I had it memorized, Gabrielle rose onto her toes, her face flushing a faint shade of pink as she pressed her soft lips lightly to my left cheek.
"'Appy birthday, 'Arry," she whispered, pulling back shyly with a bright, adorable blush coloring her cheeks.
I smiled, warmth spreading through me at the sweet gesture. "Thanks, Gabrielle."
Before I could say anything more, Fleur stepped closer. Being taller than her younger sister, she easily leaned in, her blue eyes locked steadily on mine as she gently kissed my left cheek. Her lips lingered just a second longer, brushing lightly against the very corner of my mouth in a soft, teasing touch. My heart sped up, heat rising into my face instantly.
Gabrielle immediately noticed, and she pouted dramatically at Fleur. Fleur gave her sister an innocent, playful smile before stepping back slightly. "Eet was very nice to meet you, 'Arry," Fleur said softly, her voice silky and inviting. "I truly 'ope zat we can meet again soon."
"Me too," I managed to respond, my throat suddenly dry as I stared at her beautiful, amused expression.
Both girls gave us a final charming wave before turning together, their silky blonde hair cascading over their shoulders as they walked away. Dudley and I stood side by side, silently watching the gentle sway of their hips until they disappeared around the corner.
Dudley sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "Well, that was a total bust," he grumbled sourly. "Figures. The hottest girls we meet ever turn out to be witches and aren't even remotely interested in me."
I snorted softly, glancing sideways at him. "Tough luck, Dud."
He turned toward me, eyebrows raised hopefully. "You wanna hit up a club or something, Harry? Maybe find some girls who aren't witches and actually notice me?"
I gave him a deadpan stare, crossing my arms over my chest. "Seriously, Dud? After everything we just heard?"
He shrugged, looking sheepish. "Yeah, alright, I guess that's fair."
"I think I'm a little more interested in finding out about this whole wizarding world thing you've all been hiding from me," I said, unable to keep the sharp edge from my voice.
Dudley held his hands up defensively, stepping back slightly. "Whoa, Harry, calm down, alright? I swear it wasn't my fault. Mum and Dad made me promise never to tell you about any of it."
I frowned at him, feeling a tightness in my chest. "But why? What possible reason could you guys have for keeping something so important a secret from me?"
He sighed heavily, shoving his hands into his pockets. "When you didn't get that Hogwarts letter or whatever it is at sixteen, Mum and Dad just figured you weren't magical or something. They thought it'd be better not to bring it up at all, you know, to avoid making you feel bad or something."
I grimaced at his words, feeling frustration bubbling inside me. Was it partly my fault too? I'd always kept my own unique abilities secret from everyone, including my relatives. I'd never trusted them with my strangest secrets—like the wings I'd hidden from everyone, or the fact that I could breathe underwater. Maybe if I'd been honest about myself, they would have been honest about all this magic stuff. And probably continued to not treat me like family as well judging by what Dudley was telling me.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling deeply. "Yeah, okay. I get it. Sort of."
Dudley looked relieved, clapping me roughly on the shoulder. "Listen, Potter, whatever you decide to do, I've got your back. I might not get all this wizarding shit, but you're still my cousin."
I felt myself relax a little, smiling faintly at his earnest expression. "Thanks, Dud. That means a lot."
"Anytime," he said with a grin, nudging me lightly. "Now, how about we at least grab a beer somewhere before heading home?"
I chuckled softly, shaking my head as we started walking. "Sure, Dud. One beer. And you're paying."
Dudley and I had ended up at a crowded, noisy bar downtown. Music thumped loudly, neon signs glowed brightly, and people filled nearly every inch of space, laughing and talking over each other. We sat at the bar, Dudley downing his beer quickly while I slowly sipped mine, thoughts drifting constantly back to Fleur, Gabrielle, and the bizarre revelation they'd shared with me.
Throughout the evening, several women approached us. Some were young, probably university students like us, and others were more mature, bold enough to openly flirt and drop clear hints that they were interested. They leaned against the bar, offering to buy drinks or simply asking if I was alone tonight.
"Hey there, handsome," a tall blonde in a tight dress purred, sidling up next to me. "Need some company tonight?"
I shook my head politely, giving her an apologetic smile. "No thanks, just hanging out with my cousin."
She shrugged, disappointed, before moving away. A couple more girls tried the same, flashing inviting smiles and making it clear they were interested. But after the strange day I'd had, after meeting Fleur and Gabrielle and learning about magic—real magic—I simply wasn't in the mood.
None of these girls compared to the intrigue and mystery of the French sisters or the wizarding world they'd hinted at.
Dudley, however, had no such thoughts. He enthusiastically chatted with every girl who approached, finally focusing his attention on a particularly pretty brunette in a short skirt and tight top. She giggled at all his jokes, touched his arm repeatedly, and soon enough, Dudley had convinced her to come home with us.
We climbed into Dudley's car, the girl squeezing herself between us in the front seat. I sat awkwardly against the passenger door, trying to give them as much space as possible. Dudley grinned widely as he drove, obviously pleased with himself.
The brunette glanced at me with a mischievous smile, her eyes glazed slightly from alcohol. Suddenly, without warning, she tugged down the neckline of her top, baring her perky tits and pink nipples to me openly. "Would you like to join in?" she asked boldly, her voice playful and sultry. "I'm always down for a devil's threesome."
Dudley's eyes immediately darted sideways. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, swerving the car sharply, barely managing to keep control!
"Dudley, keep your eyes on the damn road!" I snapped, grabbing the dash for support as the car steadied again.
He chuckled nervously, refocusing on driving while still stealing glances sideways.
Turning my attention back to the girl, I shook my head firmly but politely. "Thanks for the offer, but no thank you."
She pouted dramatically, obviously disappointed. "Aw, that's no fun," she sighed, shifting her attention fully back toward Dudley. "Guess I'll have you all to myself, then."
Her hand drifted toward Dudley’s lap, fingers tracing slowly along his thigh before boldly reaching for his zipper. Dudley swallowed audibly, struggling to keep his attention on the road as her hand slipped inside his pants.
That was my cue to leave.
"Dudley, just let me out here," I said firmly, already reaching for the door handle. "We're close enough. I wanna check out that address Gabrielle gave me anyway. I won't be able to sleep if I don't."
"Sure thing, man," Dudley responded distractedly, clearly more focused on the girl's exploring hand than on anything I was saying. He barely slowed the car enough for me to safely hop out onto the sidewalk.
"Have fun!" I called sarcastically over my shoulder as the car pulled away, Dudley’s laughter mixing with the girl’s loud giggles.
I walked down the street for a few more blocks as the sun dipped lower, casting a soft golden glow over the buildings. My heart thumped steadily with anticipation as I moved closer to the address Gabrielle had whispered to me earlier. The street was mostly quiet now, shadows stretching out and deepening around me. But as I approached my destination, an odd sensation prickled at my skin, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
My senses suddenly felt overloaded, like there was something heavy and buzzing in the air. I'd never experienced anything quite like this before. Was this magic? Real magic from other people? Until now, I'd only ever sensed my own powers, and this was completely different.
I slowed my pace, taking a careful look around. Several people had appeared, wandering down the street dressed in the strangest clothes I'd ever seen. My eyes widened as I took in their odd attire. They wore robes—actual robes that looked like something out of a historical movie or a fantasy novel.
"Are they seriously wearing old-timey robes?" I muttered quietly to myself, blinking in disbelief.
As I got closer, I realized many of them looked slightly unkempt. There was dirt on some robes, unbrushed hair, and disheveled appearances overall. It made me wonder uneasily if maybe the magical people in London were all homeless or something.
"Doesn't magic come with showers?" I asked under my breath, shaking my head a bit.
Still unsure, I spotted an old pub on the corner. A faded, slightly crooked sign swung gently in the evening breeze, creaking softly as it read "The Leaky Cauldron." The pub didn't exactly look inviting, but the oddly dressed people were moving in and out like it was perfectly normal. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The interior was dimly lit, the air thick and smelling strongly of old ale and stale smoke. I squinted a bit, trying to adjust my eyes to the darkness. The pub itself looked ancient—cracked wooden tables, worn benches, and walls stained with age. A few patrons glanced up briefly, giving me indifferent looks before returning to their conversations.
As I stood there, still adjusting to my surroundings, I noticed a small group moving quietly toward the back of the pub. There were three of them—a middle-aged man in dark blue robes, a younger woman wearing bright green, and an older woman with long, gray hair cascading down the back of her scarlet robes. They spoke quietly to one another, their voices low but audible enough to catch my attention.
"Come along, we still have some shopping to do in Diagon Alley," the older woman said impatiently.
Diagon Alley.
That was the place Gabrielle had mentioned to me earlier. Without a second thought, I discreetly fell in step behind them, hoping no one would notice or object.
They didn't even glance my way as they walked through the back door of the pub into a small, cramped courtyard. The younger woman stepped forward, pulling out a thin wooden stick from her robe pocket.
"Right then, stand back," she instructed, tapping several bricks in a quick, deliberate sequence.
I watched carefully, committing the pattern immediately to memory. I'd always had a knack for remembering details like this.
As she tapped the last brick, I jumped slightly in shock as the entire wall began shifting and rearranging itself right before my eyes. Bricks moved fluidly, sliding smoothly aside to form an archway that revealed an entirely new street—bright, bustling, and packed full of people.
"Bloody hell," I whispered in awe, stepping forward slowly. The sight before me was incredible. It was like stepping into a completely different world. Shops lined both sides of the cobblestone street, their windows filled with strange and exotic items that I couldn't even begin to name. Owls fluttered overhead carrying small packages, children raced excitedly past holding ice creams that appeared to change colors, and groups of robed people chattered animatedly.
Diagon Alley was definitely way nicer and cleaner than the shitty-ass pub I'd just walked through. I took slow, curious steps along the cobblestone path, eyes wide and trying to absorb everything at once. All around me, magical people strolled casually, chatting and laughing in their strange old-fashioned robes. Shops lined both sides of the street, each packed with brightly-colored displays and objects I had absolutely no clue about.
I paused briefly, glancing into the nearest shop window. Brightly polished instruments spun slowly on stands, their surfaces glittering in the lamplight. I had an urge to step inside immediately and ask what the hell all these weird gadgets actually did, but I hesitated. I really didn't want everyone here thinking I was some clueless bumpkin from nowhere.
Turning away, my gaze shifted toward a small group of kids gathered near an ice cream shop. The storefront was cheerful, brightly painted with stripes of pink and yellow. A smiling older man behind the counter scooped ice cream into cones and handed them to eager customers.
Curious, I moved a bit closer to watch. The kids reached into their pockets, but instead of pulling out pounds or notes, they held small metal coins, gleaming silver, gold, and bronze in their palms.
I patted my own pockets lightly, frowning. I definitely didn't have anything like those metal coins. I wondered briefly if they'd even accept normal money here at all.
"Thanks, Mister Fortescue!" a young boy said cheerfully, handing over a few bronze coins and eagerly taking his ice cream cone. He licked it enthusiastically, grinning widely as he walked away.
My eyes wandered further along the bustling street and finally settled on a huge building down at the far end of the alley. It was impressive, towering grandly over the smaller shops nearby. Shiny white marble and massive. Above the front entrance, an enormous sign read clearly in golden letters: Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
I stepped closer, gazing at it thoughtfully. A bank—exactly what I needed. Maybe they'd exchange some of the regular money I had in my pocket.
As I walked up to the bank, I immediately noticed something weird. Standing out front were guards dressed in full medieval armor, holding actual swords and long spears. Their armor was shiny but battered, like they’d seen plenty of action.
Did people try to rob this place all the time or something?
And their faces—I grimaced without meaning to—they had rough, twisted features, bulging eyes, hooked noses, and uneven, sharp teeth. Honestly, their ugly looks were something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies— not that I really had any.
Another strange thing was their height. These guys were seriously short. None of them stood taller than about chest-level to me, and they eyed me warily as I approached, gripping their weapons tighter. Their nervous little eyes darted back and forth, looking anxious, even fearful.
I slowed down as I approached, raising my eyebrows cautiously. What exactly had I done to freak them out this badly?
The guard at the front stepped forward. He held his spear out stiffly in my direction, his hands shaking a little.
“What is your business here, Devil?” he growled sharply, his voice scratchy and gruff. “Are you here to rob us?”
Devil? I frowned slightly, confused.
What was he talking about?
“Whoa, relax,” I said calmly, lifting my hands a little to show I wasn't a threat. “I’m just here to exchange some currency. You know, regular pounds into—uh—wizard money or whatever...”
“Oh,” the guard said, visibly relaxing. He lowered his spear immediately, shoulders dropping as if relieved. Behind him, the other guards also eased up, their grips on their weapons loosening. “You should have just said so in the first place, Devil. Go on in, then. Talk to the Goblin teller Grubstomper, first desk on your left. Your kind doesn’t have to wait in line like the humans.”
He moved aside and gestured toward the large double doors behind him. As if sensing me coming, the doors swung open on their own, revealing the gleaming interior of Gringotts Bank.
Goblins huh? At least now I knew what these things were.
“Um, thanks, I guess,” I muttered uncertainly, still caught off guard by the weird interaction. I stepped carefully past the guards, feeling their beady eyes follow me until the doors closed behind me.
Inside, the bank was just as grand as I'd imagined. Tall marble columns, pristine marble floors, and long rows of elegant desks stretched before me. Small creatures sat behind those desks, scribbling rapidly on parchment with feathered quills. They were clearly the same species as the guards out front, short, ugly, and sharp-eyed.
My mind drifted again to the word "Devil." Yeah, I’d always known I had wings. But I'd never seriously considered myself as anything other than human. Maybe I was some kind of mutant, like in those American comic books Dudley was always reading.
But now, after everything I'd experienced today, I was starting to realize I might've been wrong about that.
I found Grubstomper’s desk easily, first on the left as instructed. The little creature sitting there glanced up nervously from his ledger, blinking his tiny, dark eyes quickly.
“Uh…are you Grubstomper the goblin?” I asked, stepping closer to the desk and resting my hands on the polished wooden surface.
The goblin swallowed, seeming uncomfortable and wary as he stared up at me. “Y-yes, I am Grubstomper. How can I help you…sir?”
“I just want to exchange some pounds for wizard money,” I explained patiently, trying to sound friendly and non-threatening. I reached slowly into my pocket, pulling out my wallet and taking out several notes. “Can you do that here?”
“...It may not be necessary for you to exchange your Muggle currency at all. Your clan likely has an open account here at Gringotts. You might be able to withdraw funds directly."
I blinked at him in confusion.
Clan?
What the hell was he talking about? First I'd been called "Devil," and now I apparently had some kind of clan? For a second I opened my mouth to ask questions, but quickly changed my mind. Honestly, the way things had gone today, it felt better to just roll with it.
"Okay," I said simply. "That sounds… convenient."
The goblin nodded seriously and stood up from behind his tall wooden desk. He stepped around it and gestured for me to follow. "Come this way. We'll verify your lineage and see what vaults are accessible to you. My private office will provide more privacy for this matter."
I snorted softly to myself, amused by the situation. "Alright, lead the way."
I followed the goblin as he led me down a corridor behind his desk. Glancing around as we walked, I had to admit, the goblins clearly lived well. The corridor was brightly lit, lined with fine paintings and intricate gold trim. When the goblin finally stopped at a large wooden door, he pushed it open, ushering me inside.
His office was ornate and sophisticated. A beautiful dark oak desk sat prominently in the middle of the room, piled neatly with thick ledgers and paperwork. Richly embroidered tapestries hung along the walls, and plush chairs sat invitingly across from the goblin's own.
Damn, this little ugly guy worked in style.
"Please, have a seat," he said politely, moving around the desk to sit himself down.
I sank slowly into one of the chairs, shifting awkwardly as I watched the goblin carefully open a drawer and pull out a jagged-looking blade with a sharp blood red tint.
My body instantly tensed up, and I eyed the blade nervously. "Whoa, what's that for?"
The goblin gave me what I guessed was supposed to be a reassuring smile. It didn't help much. "Relax," he said calmly. "This blade was provided directly from the current Beelzebub herself to our people. Even if we are no longer allowed to do business in the Underworld, we kept the knife in case Devils ever come to the surface to do business with us.”
“How come your people aren’t allowed to do business in the underworld?” I asked.
“There was a war… We lost. We don’t talk about it.” His reply was curt, and clearly that was all I was going to get.
A war huh? A war between devils and goblins? I wondered if that was why the goblins outside were so hostile to me at first?
“So what does the blade do?”
He ran his long fingers along the flat of the blade, careful not to cut himself as he explained to me. “It is enchanted specifically to identify Devil lineages from a single drop of blood. This will allow us to verify your lineage accurately."
I frowned in confusion, shaking my head slightly. "But I already know who my parents are," I said defensively. "I don't see why—"
The goblin quickly held up a hand, cutting me off mid-sentence. "We simply need to be sure, sir. This will only take a moment."
I sighed quietly, deciding not to argue further. "Alright, fine. Just make it quick."
He nodded seriously and gently took my hand. I watched apprehensively as he brought the blade carefully to my fingertip. There was a quick, sharp sting, and I winced slightly as a drop of bright red blood welled up. He pressed my bleeding finger lightly against a blank parchment, and the blood seeped into the paper immediately, forming strange lines and shapes.
Within seconds, glowing golden letters began to appear on the parchment. My breath caught in my throat as I leaned forward, staring intently at the words slowly revealing themselves.
My eyes widened in disbelief as the names formed clearly.
Harry Sitri
of Clan Sitri. Half-Devil
Mother: Lily Evans
Father?: Serafall Leviathan
I stared blankly, reading the names again.
What the actual fuck?
My name wasn't even Harry Potter? And what the hell—my father was someone named Serafall Leviathan? Not James Potter, the man I'd believed was my dad for nineteen years?
I laughed uneasily under my breath, sitting back in the chair heavily. Had my mum seriously cheated on Dad?
The goblin suddenly went completely silent, his tiny eyes widening in disbelief as he stared down at the parchment. His long fingers trembled slightly as he read something over again carefully, as if he couldn't quite believe what was written there.
"Your mother..." He paused, his voice shaking a bit as he lifted his gaze to look at me. "Your mother was Lily Evans?"
I frowned, feeling more uneasy by the second. "Yeah, that's what it says. Why? Is something wrong?"
The goblin swallowed hard, still clearly shocked. "You..." He paused again, his words coming out slowly. "Are you—the Harry Potter?"
I blinked, shaking my head slightly. "Honestly? I guess I'm not. At least, not according to this." I motioned toward the parchment. "I thought that was my name my entire life. Looks like I was wrong."
The goblin slowly regained some composure, nodding thoughtfully. "I see. That certainly explains why you never emerged in the wizarding world. Because you aren't actually a wizard at all… Most of us thought you were killed by Death Eaters or something…"
I sighed in frustration. This was the second time today someone had implied that my name Harry Potter, or whatever, was famous somehow. And that whoever the Death Eaters were—had murdered me as a child or something. I still wasn't sure what to think about that.
Shaking my head slightly, I pointed back to the parchment, tapping my finger on the second name listed. "Look here, then. Under 'Father', it says someone named Serafall Leviathan. With a question mark. Do you know anything about this guy?"
The goblin's eyes darted to the spot I'd indicated, and suddenly his whole body stiffened again. He did a full double take, his jaw dropping open slightly as he read the name carefully again.
"Serafall Leviathan?" he choked out, sounding like he was about to pass out from shock. "Serafall Leviathan is not a man. Serafall Leviathan is a woman."
I blinked, my mind suddenly going completely blank. "Wait, what?" I stammered, completely confused now. "How the hell is my father a woman?"
The goblin gave me a long, awkward stare before clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Serafall Leviathan is one of the four Devil rulers of the Underworld. Arguably one of the strongest women alive."
I stared at him for several silent seconds, my mind scrambling to put together what he had just said. It made absolutely no sense.
"I'm sorry," I said slowly, shaking my head again. "But… my father is a woman? You're saying my father is actually one of the most powerful female devils? How the fuck does that even happen?"
The goblin stared back at me, his expression completely deadpan now. "Clearly, magic of some kind was involved. In the bedroom, it's not exactly unheard of for certain witches or female devils to magically give themselves a co—"
I held up my hand quickly, cutting him off right there, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. "Whoa, whoa—stop. I get it. Seriously, you don't have to explain. I can fill in the blanks perfectly fine on my own, thanks!"
The goblin nodded curtly, looking just as relieved as I felt that the conversation didn't need to go any further down that awkward path.
"Alright," I sighed deeply, rubbing my temples in frustration. "Let's just…move on. Please."
"Very well," the goblin agreed, quickly regaining his professional tone. "This revelation, however unusual, does mean you now have full and rightful access to the Clan Sitri vaults. I'll arrange the necessary documentation immediately."
"Sure…" I said quietly, leaning back in the plush chair. I had a lot on my mind.
The goblin looked up from the parchment, studying my face carefully. I could tell he was trying to gauge my reaction, which must've looked pretty stunned because he gave me a knowing nod.
"I imagine, from the look of shock on your face, that you had no idea about any of these revelations, did you, Mr. Sitri?" he asked gently, emphasizing the new last name—my new last name.
Sitri. I rolled the name around in my mind. Harry Sitri. That would definitely take some getting used to. My entire life I'd been Harry Potter, and suddenly I wasn't. It felt completely surreal.
I shook my head slowly, trying to collect my thoughts. "Honestly, no. I didn't have a clue about any of this," I admitted quietly. "I have no idea who Serafall Leviathan iss, or that she was my…well, apparently my other parent. And definitely not that she was some kind of Devil queen or whatever."
The goblin adjusted his small spectacles, leaning forward slightly across the desk. "Well, Mr. Sitri, we might be able to help you learn more about her, if you wish."
I glanced at him cautiously, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
He cleared his throat, obviously a bit nervous, and took a deep breath. "You see, despite our exile from the Underworld, we goblins still maintain contact flyers for each of the major Devil clans. We have methods of communication that could reach your mother—Serafall Leviathan—on your behalf."
My pulse quickened, but I kept my expression guarded. "And what's the catch?" I asked carefully.
The goblin fidgeted a little, looking suddenly anxious. "It's just that…well…we goblins have been exiled from our ancestral homeland for centuries now. Some of the younger goblins desperately wish to return to the Underworld, but our kind have always been forbidden." He paused, watching me cautiously. "A good word from someone of your stature—a prince of the Underworld—could greatly help our case."
I blinked, startled by his words. "Wait—I'm sorry, I'm a what?"
The goblin nodded quickly, his expression serious. "Yes, Mr. Sitri, you're a prince. As I mentioned earlier, Serafall Leviathan is one of the four current rulers of the Underworld. And honestly, she is arguably the most popular among them."
My stomach tightened in a knot as I processed that. A prince of the Underworld. Today just kept getting crazier. I took a deep breath, trying to sort through my thoughts. I'd lived my entire nineteen years thinking both sets of parents—James and Lily—were dead and gone.
I was alone.
Sure, my aunt and uncle had stepped up eventually, at least for the last three years when they thought I was finally "normal." This birthday had been pretty fun too.
But I'd never had a real and full family experience. I'd always wondered what it might be like to actually have parents.
Now I had the chance to meet one of them, except—my living parent was a devil. And not just any devil, but a powerful ruler of the Underworld.
My mind immediately filled with nervous questions. Would she be evil? Fire and brimstone and eternal torture? I quickly corrected myself—no, maybe water and brimstone, since I'd always had an unusual affinity for water. That explained why I could breathe underwater, and even sometimes control it if I concentrated hard enough. Maybe it wasn't so weird after all.
I realized the goblin was staring at me expectantly, awaiting my answer.
…
I stepped out of Gringotts Bank feeling a bit overwhelmed but weirdly relieved. I'd made my choice, telling the goblin to go ahead and send that message to Serafall Leviathan, the woman who was apparently my actual mother. The goblin had looked ridiculously pleased, giving me a huge, toothy grin and enthusiastically shaking my hand.
"Thank you, Mr. Sitri," he'd said earnestly. "Gringotts will owe you many favors for this, I assure you."
So now here I was, back out on the bustling cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, a small black leather bag securely strapped to my hip. The goblin had explained it was completely unstealable and directly connected to the Sitri Clan vaults—vaults that apparently had enough gold in them to buy every single thing in this alley a thousand times over.
That must be a metric fuckton of money…
The sun had already set. I glanced around curiously, wondering where I should go first. I still had a few hours left of my birthday, and despite the utterly insane revelations I'd been given today, I figured I should make good use of them.
A nearby bookshop caught my eye, still brightly lit and clearly open for business. I figured it made sense to start there. After all, I was completely clueless about this whole magical society I'd just stumbled into. Even if I wasn't technically a wizard, my mom—one of my moms—Lily, obviously was a witch.
Learning more about her and this crazy hidden world seemed like a smart first step.
I pushed open the heavy wooden door of the shop, a soft bell ringing gently above my head. The smell of old books and parchment filled the air instantly as I stepped inside, and I inhaled deeply, feeling strangely comforted. Rows upon rows of shelves stretched endlessly, packed tightly with books of every size, color, and thickness imaginable.
An older man with grey hair and half-moon glasses glanced up from behind the counter. He gave me a small smile as I approached him.
"Good evening, young man," he greeted me warmly. "Can I help you find something?"
"Yeah," I replied, smiling back politely. "Could you point me toward your history section? I'm kind of new to all this magic stuff."
"Ah, a fresh learner!" He nodded approvingly, eyes twinkling kindly. "Just down the aisle on your left, towards the back. You should find everything you need there."
"Thanks," I said gratefully, turning to follow his directions.
I made my way slowly through the aisles, eyes scanning book titles absently as my mind kept spinning back to today's revelations. Devils, wizards, hidden worlds, magic—it all felt surreal and honestly a little overwhelming. I was so lost in thought that I didn't even notice someone else standing in the aisle until I'd collided gently but firmly into something incredibly soft.
"Ahh!" came a startled, feminine yelp, followed by a loud crash as several books toppled onto the floor around us.
"Oh shit, I'm so sorry," I said quickly, instinctively reaching out to steady the girl I'd just bumped into. My hands landed softly on her shoulders, and I looked down to see wide, startled brown eyes staring back up at me.
"Watch where you're going, you—" she began sharply, then abruptly stopped speaking, her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink as her eyes met mine directly.
Yeah, that tended to happen. At least now I had a decent explanation for the whole devilishly good-looking thing.
She was cute—really cute, actually—with frizzy brown hair that fell loosely around her shoulders and a pretty, expressive face that was now glowing bright red in embarrassment. She also had some very nice slender curves but I didn’t focus on them for more than a glance. Her chocolate-brown eyes quickly dropped away from mine as she hurriedly began picking up the scattered books from the floor.
"No, I'm really sorry," I said again, bending down to help her gather up the fallen volumes. "I had a lot on my mind and wasn't paying attention."
"No, no, it's okay," she replied quickly, shooting me an apologetic look as we stood back up, both holding a few books each. "I wasn't exactly paying attention either."
I smiled at her, handing over the books I'd picked up. "Guess we were both a bit lost in thought then."
"Yeah, seems like it," she said softly, smiling shyly back at me and tucking a strand of her frizzy hair behind one ear.
There was a brief, slightly awkward silence as we just stood there looking at each other. I cleared my throat gently, deciding introductions were probably a good next step.
"I'm Harry," I said, hesitating just slightly before adding my new surname for the first time out loud. "Harry Sitri."
She blinked in surprise, her blush deepening just a bit more. "Oh…Harry Sitri," she repeated softly, as if committing the name to memory. "It's nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Hermione Granger."
"Hermione," I repeated, liking the way her name rolled off my tongue. "Nice to meet you too."
We stood there quietly again for another moment, both of us clearly a bit unsure what to say next.
"Are you…new around here?" Hermione finally asked curiously, adjusting the heavy books in her arms. "I don't think I've ever seen you in Diagon Alley before."
I chuckled awkwardly, running a hand through my hair. "Uh, yeah. You could definitely say that. I literally just found out about this place today, actually. Bit of a crazy birthday present, to be honest…"
"Today's your birthday?" she asked, smiling warmly. "Happy birthday then!"
"Thanks," I replied with a genuine grin. "It's been one hell of a day."
She laughed softly at that, nodding sympathetically. "I can imagine. If you need help finding anything, I know this bookstore pretty well."
I felt myself relax a bit at her friendly offer. "That'd actually be great. I'm basically clueless about all this magic stuff."
Hermione brightened visibly, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Then you're in luck, Harry. Books and magical research happen to be my specialties!"
I laughed lightly, feeling genuinely relieved. "Perfect. Lead the way, then." I think I just made my first magical friend…?
– Serafall –
Serafall Leviathan slumped dramatically behind the enormous polished oak desk in her luxurious office, a tall stack of signed documents and completed paperwork towering neatly to her side. She leaned her head onto the cool wood surface and groaned loudly, stretching her arms forward with exaggerated boredom.
"So freaking bored! And lonely," Serafall grumbled aloud to the empty room, kicking her feet lightly beneath the desk. She raised her head slightly, her vibrant blue eyes narrowing in frustration.
School had just started again for her beloved little sister back in Japan, which meant no more fun sisterly bonding time for months! “My precious yuri-yuri…”
Serafall missed her sister terribly already. And to make matters worse, her parents had decided now was the perfect time for some romantic getaway to a sunny tropical island in the human world, leaving her completely alone.
Serafall pouted dramatically, propping her head up with one hand as she stared blankly at the ornate ceiling. "I guess I could always go bother Behe-tan," she mumbled to herself with a sigh. Then she immediately grimaced. "But ugh, she's always so freaking serious! Seriously, she just needs to get laid. Like…yesterday."
Serafall sat up, her expression shifting thoughtfully. Come to think of it, it had been quite a while since she'd had any fun herself. She leaned back in her chair, tapping one finger thoughtfully against her lips as memories drifted through her mind.
"Hmm, when was the last time I got laid anyway?" she wondered out loud. A sly smile curved across her lips as one particular memory rose up. "Oh, yeah. That sexy little redhead back in London. Mmm…that was a fun night."
She giggled softly to herself, remembering vividly the woman's fiery green eyes, flushed cheeks, and soft curves. They'd spent hours tangled together in her bed, the redhead’s anger toward her fiancé having apparently given her a passionate energy that Serafall thoroughly enjoyed.
She laughed again softly, shaking her head. "Honestly, who cares if she only slept with me to get back at that idiot fiancé of hers for cheating on her first. Meh, they definitely weren't going to last anyway."
Still, that had been quite a while ago. Too long, she decided firmly.
She sighed again, resting her chin back onto her palm as her mood darkened once more. "Ugh, when Sirzechs gets bored, he can just go annoy his wife or dote over his adorable little son," she complained bitterly. "Must be nice." Serafall sat up abruptly, eyes widening slightly at her own idea. "Hey! Maybe I should get a family too!?" she exclaimed excitedly to herself. "I'd be an awesome mom! Super loving and super fun—way more fun than any of those other boring Devil parents!"
Her cheerful rant was suddenly interrupted when she felt a sharp, familiar tingling sensation run across her skin. She stiffened slightly, recognizing it immediately.
Someone was actually summoning her!
Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. It had been ages since anyone dared to call her like that. Most people nowadays were way too terrified of her status as one of the four Devil Maou to even think of trying it.
"Ooh, this could be fun!" she said brightly, excitement bubbling up in her chest. But then she paused, frowning deeply as she focused on the energy of the summoning. Her mood immediately soured. "Ugh. Seriously? Them?"
Goblins. Those nasty, greedy little creatures who had rebelled against the Devils when they'd been weakest, right after two brutal wars. They'd tried—and spectacularly failed—to seize the Underworld for themselves.
Serafall scowled. "Disgusting little traitors," she muttered angrily, tempted to simply ignore the summons altogether. But after a moment's thought, her eyes lit up mischievously again. "Although…maybe this could be entertaining." She grinned wickedly, eyes sparkling with amusement. "If those goblins dared to summon me without a really, really good reason, I'll just go full Miracle☆Levia-tan Magical Girl and kick their ugly asses all the way back to the Stone Age! Now that's a perfect way to relieve stress!"
Laughing delightedly, she stood up quickly, straightening her clothes and smoothing out her dark, silky hair. Taking a deep, cheerful breath, she let herself relax, surrendering to the pull of the summoning spell.
"Okay, disgusting goblins!" she announced loudly to the empty room, a playful yet threatening grin on her face. "Let's see what you have to say! And you'd better hope it's good!"
XXX