Chapter 26 (~10k words):
One week after the Hogwarts Rating Games…
– Narcissa –
Narcissa leaned silently against the cool stone wall at the edge of the classroom, arms crossed beneath her chest as her piercing blue eyes tracked every careful movement the imposter made.
She found it irritating that the man wearing Gilderoy Lockhart's stolen face was turning out to be, quite annoyingly, a rather competent teacher.
He paced theatrically before the rows of desks, blue robes billowing dramatically behind him. Narcissa couldn't deny the practiced confidence he exuded—whoever he really was, he had obviously spent considerable time studying Lockhart's exaggerated mannerisms and pompous flair!
"Observe closely, students," the false Lockhart intoned clearly, his voice bright and commanding, just loud enough to silence the nervous whispers among the teenagers seated before him. "These are the three curses so vile, so morally repugnant, that their use earns a lifetime sentence in Azkaban!"
He gestured grandly at a large glass jar on his desk. Several large spiders scuttled anxiously inside, their hairy legs twitching restlessly against the smooth interior. Narcissa's lips curled slightly with distaste.
She then watched as he gave a demonstration of the three forbidden unforgivable curses to a classroom of terrified third year students. It was subtle, but she could see the glimmer in his eyes every time he demonstrated one of the spells in front of the scared students. He enjoyed their fear and terror.
She recognized the look from her sister Bellatrix, alongside the rest of the former Dark Lord's insane followers. Narcissa wondered if she knew this imposter underneath his disguise. Was he friends with her ex-husband? Was that the imposter really didn't seem to like her.
Well, that was going to be even more unfortunate for him by the end of this class…
…Narcissa stayed where she was until the last of the third-years scraped their chairs back and filed out.
The man wearing Gilderoy Lockhart's face turned toward her. The real Lockhart would have dragged his eyes down her chest and pretended he hadn't. This one didn't even look. He gave her a flat, dismissive stare.
"That will be all, woman," he said with a clipped tone.
She clicked her tongue in irritation. "Actually, sir, I wondered if I could have a moment of your time," she said, keeping her tone polite.
He exhaled through his nose like she'd inconvenienced him. "Fine. What is it, woman? I happen to have a very busy day ahead," the man wearing Gilderoy's face said.
"Oh, it's nothing too important," she lied.
"Since you're such an amazing wizard, I wanted to ask for your help on a spell I've been wanting to teach the students—oops!" She "accidently" let her wand slip from her fingers. It hit the flagstones with a small, sharp clack and spun once before settling. She did not bend to pick it up. She kept her hands open and visible at her sides and her eyes on his face.
"Stupid clumsy woman! Teach yourself, I'm too busy to deal with those brats and you!" His gaze flicked to the wand on the floor, then away. He turned his back on her, reaching to straighten the jar of spiders and the scattered parchment on his desk as if the conversation bored him already.
That was all she needed, him dismissing her as a weak woman and letting his guard down.
She raised her left hand, palm angled at the center of his shoulder blades, and cast. "Stupefy," she said coldly. She loved being a devil, being able to cast without a wand and just her imagination. Plus, being a bishop gave her so much more magic to play with!
The red bolt punched into him between the shoulder and spine. His body locked and dropped. He went down hard, cheek and ribs hitting stone with a heavy, flat sound. One leg twitched once and stilled.
Narcissa crossed the space in three strides. She kicked his wand out from under his right hand and sent it skittering beneath the front row of desks. She rolled him onto his back by the shoulder, checked his eyes—fixed and unfocused—and pressed two fingers to the side of his neck. He was unconscious.
She drew a tight circle in the air with two fingers and dropped a silencing ward over the room, then latched the door with a locking charm keyed to her signature. She flicked her wrist. Thick, conjured cords snapped around his wrists and ankles, wrenching them together behind his back. She added a second set above and below the knees so he couldn't lever himself to his feet even if he woke. A plain cloth gag followed, tied behind his head and knotted high so he couldn't spit it out easily.
Only then did she crouch and pat him down, quick and thorough—sleeves, pockets, robe lining, belt. She found a small pewter hip flask warm from his body, a folded scrap with Times and doses, and two short, pale hairs stuck to the cork.
Polyjuice. Of course it was. She pocketed the flask and the hairs.
"Pathetic," she muttered while straightening herself out.
Narcissa lifted her hand again and traced a thin line of devil magic through the air, sending a silent signal along the Sitri crest to Tonks and then a second pulse for her king Harry. "Classroom secure," the pulse conveyed. "Target down."
– Harry –
My beautiful MILF bishop Narcissa was looking extremely pleased with herself when Tonks and I walked into the classroom. She stood casually beside the prone, tied-up figure on the stone floor, one delicate hand resting confidently on her hip as she watched us approach.
I crossed straight over to Narcissa, slid an arm around her waist, and leaned down to press a quick but firm kiss to her lush lips. She responded immediately, opening her mouth just slightly beneath mine, her tongue lightly brushing mine in greeting. Tonks made an awkward cough and blushed visibly next to us, clearly embarrassed at watching her aunt openly kiss me like that.
Breaking our kiss slowly, Narcissa flashed me a smug, satisfied smile as her blue eyes glittered with quiet pride. "As you can see, Harry dear, I've already handled our little imposter problem," she said smoothly, gesturing dismissively at the bound man lying unconscious on the floor.
I glanced downward. His skin was already bubbling grotesquely, visibly rippling and shifting beneath the surface. That meant the Polyjuice Potion was nearly finished running its course, and the imposter's borrowed face would vanish any moment now.
Tonks crouched carefully next to the bound man, peering closely at his bubbling, twisting features with a look of cautious curiosity. She glanced back up at Narcissa and asked, "Any guesses who he is beneath Lockhart's face, Aunt Cissa?"
Narcissa gave a small, elegant shrug of her shoulders, looking mildly annoyed that she couldn't immediately identify him. "I'm not completely certain yet. But I suspect it's one of Voldemort's former followers," she said coldly. "He certainly behaved like one. Rude, arrogant, and utterly foolish."
"How'd you take him down so quickly and cleanly?" I asked, impressed with how efficiently she'd dealt with this. My hand was still resting lightly on her waist, and I gave her side a gentle squeeze of affection and appreciation. Narcissa leaned comfortably into my side.
She smiled wickedly, blue eyes glinting with clear amusement. "The arrogant bastard completely dismissed me. I pretended to drop my wand like some silly, helpless woman. He immediately turned his back on me, obviously thinking I was nothing more than Lucius's weak and pathetic housewife. So I blasted him right in the spine." She gave a soft, satisfied sigh. "He never saw it coming."
I chuckled appreciatively, pulling Narcissa slightly closer into my side and letting my hand drift lower, fingertips brushing possessively along the curve of her hip and the swell of her ass through her robes. "You're far more than some weak housewife," I whispered approvingly into her ear, voice low and heated. "You're my incredibly beautiful and sexy bishop."
"Damn right I am," Narcissa purred proudly, eyes shining with satisfaction. Her delicate cheeks flushed faintly with pleasure at my praise.
We both returned our attention to the bound man just as his bubbling transformation finally began to fade away. The stolen features of Gilderoy Lockhart melted away completely, leaving the imposter's real face plainly visible beneath.
Tonks and I exchanged confused looks. Neither of us recognized the man lying bound and gagged before us. He was older, perhaps around Narcissa's own age, with gaunt, angular features, thinning dirty blond hair, and a thin mouth twisted into an unconscious scowl.
I glanced quickly toward Narcissa. Her beautiful face had gone pale, eyes widening in clear recognition and surprise.
"You know him?" I asked sharply, alert and wary again.
"Unfortunately, yes," she said bitterly. Narcissa stared down at the bound man's face with clear disgust etched onto her beautiful features, lips curling in distaste. "His name is Barty Crouch Junior," she said.
Tonks jerked slightly in shock, her eyes widening with disbelief. "Barty Junior? But—that can't be right! He was supposed to have died in Azkaban years ago!"
Narcissa's expression darkened further. "That's precisely what I thought as well," she said coolly. "Clearly, someone was deceived—or bribed—to cover up his survival. Barty Crouch Junior was infamous, even among the Death Eaters. He was one of the cruelest, most depraved individuals the Dark Lord ever recruited."
Tonks swallowed visibly, shifting nervously. "What do you mean?"
"I remember him at Hogwarts," Narcissa continued bitterly, staring hatefully at the unconscious man lying at her feet. "Even as a child, Barty took pleasure in cruelty. He thrived on intimidation and torture. There were dark, terrible rumors surrounding him—pets disappearing and found mutilated, students mysteriously injured in disturbing 'accidents.' He only became worse with age. Once he joined the Dark Lord, Barty reveled in committing unspeakable atrocities. The most gruesome, grisly crimes in the war could easily be attributed to this man."
A shiver of revulsion crept down my spine at Narcissa's description. My expression hardened into something dangerous, and I cast one last cold look toward the unconscious imposter before turning away. "I'm sure my mother Serafall will be very happy to interrogate him, then," I growled darkly, disgust clear in my voice.
I turned sharply, striding quickly from the classroom, Narcissa and Tonks trailing closely behind. Narcissa carefully locked and warded the classroom again, ensuring Barty Jr. stayed firmly secured and silenced until someone arrived to collect him. We had far more pressing concerns now—namely, locating the real Lockhart, assuming he was even still alive.
We stepped quickly into the imposter's adjacent office, eyes immediately scanning the cluttered space for anything unusual or suspicious. The office was neatly organized—far more neatly than the real Lockhart had ever kept it—and at first glance, nothing immediately jumped out as unusual.
But then I saw on the floor, sitting innocently next to the desk, was a large, heavy wooden trunk.
A trunk that had suddenly begun shaking violently, muffled shouting clearly audible from within!
I stared down incredulously at the trunk as its occupant banged desperately against the inside. "No way," I said slowly. "There's no fucking way Barty was actually stupid enough to keep the real Lockhart trapped in a trunk in his own damn office, right? I mean—what if someone just randomly stopped by to see him?"
Narcissa scoffed disdainfully, rolling her blue eyes. "Death Eaters were always exceedingly cruel," she said dryly. "But intelligent planning was never their strength."
With another lazy flick of her hand, the trunk sprang open.
Immediately, a loud, grateful cry erupted from somewhere deep inside the magically expanded interior. "Oh, thank God—a rescue party at last!"
I flinched sharply at Lockhart's unfortunate choice of words. Beside me, Narcissa and Tonks visibly cringed as well, clearly feeling the sharp stab of pain brought on by the casual mention of the Christian deity.
"Bloody hell," Tonks hissed irritably through gritted teeth, rubbing her temple. "I'll never get used to that word hurting me now!"
"Yes, yes, we're here," Narcissa snapped impatiently down at the trunk, annoyed at the unintended pain he had caused us. "Just stop shouting and stay quiet a moment longer, Lockhart, while we find a way to pull you out."
"Oh!" Lockhart's voice responded immediately, sounding sheepish and slightly embarrassed. "Apologies—terribly rude of me. I'll wait quietly right here then! Very grateful, truly!"
…Gilderoy Lockhart turned toward me, smoothing down his robes and attempting to regain some measure of dignity despite the fact he'd been locked inside a trunk for Merlin knows how long.
Only a couple days actually, he got pretty lucky…
He glanced around at his office with clear distaste at all the changes his imposter made to the place, then directed a grateful—but clearly fake—smile toward me.
"Well, Harry my boy, I must say—this has been a dreadfully unpleasant experience. I simply cannot believe a famous wizard such as myself was subjected to this indignity! Thank you ever so much for the daring rescue!" Lockhart's expression shifted abruptly, and he eyed me thoughtfully. "I suppose you'll want some sort of compensation or favor in return for freeing me, yes? Perhaps an autographed photo? A free copy of my latest bestseller?"
"Actually, Lockhart," I said flatly, cutting him off sharply before he could continue his self-centered rambling, "what I really want is your absolute silence about this entire incident."
He blinked rapidly, surprised and slightly offended. "Silence? But surely the world deserves to know about the heroic rescue of such a famous wizard—"
"Not a word," I interrupted coldly, my voice dangerous now. I stepped closer to him, looming slightly and meeting his suddenly nervous gaze head-on. "And—you're going to resign immediately, Lockhart. You're going to quietly disappear from this castle and never breathe a single word about what happened here at Hogwarts."
Lockhart hesitated, his eyes flicking uncertainly between me and Narcissa and Tonks standing silently behind me. Narcissa had crossed her arms beneath her generous chest, her blue eyes icy with contempt. Tonks, meanwhile, glared openly at him.
Finally, Lockhart seemed to realize exactly how thin the ice beneath him truly was. He sighed dramatically. "Very well, Harry, I suppose I can agree to your terms. Frankly, I've had enough of this bloody school anyway. I came here expecting adoring fans and easy conquests—but none of these beautiful young witches have been willing to put out for a famous man like me! What a bunch of frigid little teases!" Lockhart continued grumbling bitterly to himself, utterly oblivious to the dark looks we were giving him.
"Fine," I snapped irritably, unwilling to listen to another second of his whining. "Just leave your resignation letter for Dumbledore on your desk. Tonks will be the one escorting your sorry ass quietly out of the castle."
Tonks shot me a disbelieving look, mouth falling open in clear protest at the thought of having to spend even a few minutes alone with him. I gave her a sympathetic, apologetic glance in return, silently promising to make it up to her later.
"Come on, Lockhart," Tonks growled impatiently, grabbing his arm roughly and dragging him toward the desk. "Write the damn letter quickly. And don't even think about causing me any trouble on the way out, or I'll hex your balls right off."
Lockhart's eyes widened in alarm at her threat, and he hastily scrawled out a quick resignation letter, his hands trembling slightly. He signed it with a dramatic flourish and placed it carefully in the center of his desk.
"Done!" he said brightly, his usual false charm resurfacing instantly. "Shall we, my dear?"
Tonks merely tightened her grip on his arm painfully, scowling darkly. "Keep your mouth shut, and let's just get this over with already."
As Tonks escorted Lockhart forcefully out of the office, Narcissa stepped gracefully to my side, watching the irritating man vanish from sight with obvious relief. "Thank Merlin we won't have to listen to his self-important rambling any longer," she muttered, shaking her head with clear distaste. And then her eyes lit up. "And now I am Professor Narcissa Black!"
I gave her a sultry, playful look. "Oh, Professor Black, what exactly do you have in mind now?"
Narcissa smirked at me as she gracefully eased herself up onto Lockhart's desk, her slender legs crossing elegantly beneath her professor robes as she leaned back slightly, studying me through half-lidded, mischievous eyes. "I think you've been an exceptionally naughty student, Mr. Sitri," she murmured silkily, her voice dripping with seduction and playful authority. "A troublemaker of your caliber clearly requires immediate detention." Her lips curved wickedly. "Perhaps even a firm bit of punishment to set you straight."
My cock throbbed eagerly beneath my robes at her provocative words, eyes locked intently upon her as Narcissa slowly, deliberately began tugging down the neckline of her dress beneath the open robes. Inch by teasing inch, she revealed the flawless porcelain curve of her cleavage to my hungry gaze. Her breasts were large and enticingly full, their pale skin creamy and perfect, inviting me closer with every deliciously slow movement of her fingers.
She continued easing the fabric downward until finally—finally—her incredible tits spilled free, bouncing gently as they settled enticingly atop her chest. Large, round, pale globes topped with delicate rosy-pink nipples that instantly hardened under my heated gaze. My mouth watered, aching to taste her beautiful breasts, to tease her sensitive nipples with my tongue and teeth until Narcissa moaned shamelessly for me.
I was absolutely ready and eager to receive whatever sexy punishment my gorgeous new "Professor" had in store—
But then, just as I was about to cross the room and bury myself between Narcissa's exposed breasts, the office door abruptly slammed open without warning, crashing loudly against the wall behind it.
My mother Serafall stormed enthusiastically into the office with a bright, cheerful grin stretched across her pretty face. "Hi Harry! I'm finally here—" Her words cut off sharply as her wide blue eyes blinked curiously at the sight that greeted her.
Narcissa sat frozen in shock atop Lockhart's desk, her beautiful face immediately flushing a deep, embarrassed crimson as she hastily tried covering her large, exposed tits with both hands. Her flustered gaze darted nervously toward my mother, and she coughed awkwardly. "Lady Leviathan—I…this isn't quite…"
Serafall giggled mischievously and with zero shame as she waved away Narcissa's stammered embarrassment. "Ohhhh, were you and your sexy peerage member engaging in some naughty student-teacher roleplay, Harry?" She asked brightly, voice filled with excitement. "That's adorable! My mistake for interrupting!"
Serafall obviously didn't sound even remotely sorry, despite her playful apology. Without another word, she quickly bounded across the room toward me, ignoring Narcissa's flustered attempts to discreetly readjust her clothing.
Serafall immediately wrapped her slender arms tightly around my waist, pressing her lush, curvy figure warmly against me as she smiled cheerfully up into my face. "Don't let me ruin your fun though!" she declared innocently. "I'd be more than happy to join in, you know! It looks like Professor Black has plenty of naughty ideas left to try out on you."
I laughed softly, glancing apologetically toward Narcissa. My MILF bishop was now thoroughly flustered and struggling not to die of embarrassment as she hastily rearranged her robes and dress. "Mother, as much as I'd love that, maybe next time you could knock first?"
Serafall pouted cutely, hugging me even tighter as she pressed her generous chest snugly into me. "But Harry, that spoils all my fun! You know I love surprising you!"
I sighed softly in resignation, though truthfully, I couldn't stay annoyed at my mother for long. Instead, I gently wrapped an arm around Serafall's waist, pulling her closer and squeezing affectionately. I looked toward Narcissa, who was finally presentable again—though still bright red in embarrassment—and gave her a comforting, reassuring smile.
"Don't worry, Professor Black," I teased lightly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I'll be more than happy to attend your detention later this evening, whenever we're not in danger of unexpected interruptions."
Narcissa cleared her throat delicately, finally regaining her composure. Her eyes glittered playfully as she shot me a seductive smirk. "I'll be counting on it, Mr. Sitri. Just don't be late again, or I may have to add extra punishments."
Serafall giggled happily again, delighted by our teasing exchange. "Oh, you two are adorable!"
I blinked down at Serafall, a little surprised. "You sure came quick," I said softly, squeezing her gently around the waist. "I only just sent you that message about catching another spy at Hogwarts."
Serafall beamed up at me, her vibrant blue eyes glittering with mischief and genuine warmth. "Of course I did! I'll always come whenever you or So-tan need me, Harry!"
Before I could respond, she stood on her toes and captured my lips in a sweet, enthusiastic kiss. Her lips were soft and inviting, and I instinctively deepened the embrace, letting my hands trail along the graceful curve of her lower back. Serafall giggled into our kiss, obviously pleased with herself.
When we finally broke apart, she smiled playfully up at me. "After that dumb human Ministry let that nasty little rat Pettigrew escape their pathetic clutches, I'm not taking any more chances," she said firmly, her cheerful tone momentarily shifting into something more serious. Her slender fingers traced small circles over my chest. "Besides, Behe-tan is going to have a lot of fun interrogating this Barty guy!" she added brightly, eyes sparkling again. "He won't be hiding any secrets from us for long!"
I chuckled softly, imagining exactly how terrifying a devil interrogator like Behemoth could be. Honestly, I almost felt sorry for the bastard. Almost.
Serafall glanced curiously over toward Narcissa, who stood quietly nearby, still a little red in the face from my mother's earlier intrusion. Serafall grinned mischievously again, eyes lighting up with excitement. "Oh! Are you two sure you don't want to continue your little roleplay? I'd absolutely love to join in! It could be two sexy teachers punishing Harry together for misbehaving in class~"
Narcissa's cheeks immediately flushed deeper crimson. She cleared her throat delicately, clearly embarrassed yet intrigued by the idea. "That's... that's quite alright, Lady Leviathan," Narcissa murmured softly, glancing shyly toward me. "Perhaps next time."
Serafall giggled playfully again, obviously amused by Narcissa's shy embarrassment. "Oh, don't worry, Professor Black! I'll definitely take you up on that next time~" Serafall turned her head back toward me with a wicked little smirk curving her lips. "Oh, by the way, Harry," she purred playfully, hugging herself tighter against me. "I heard you lost a little bet with So-tan last weekend when she and Rias-chan beat you during that Hogwarts Rating Game!"
My smile dropped just a tiny bit as I realized exactly where my mother was going with this. Of course Sona hadn't wasted any time in messaging Serafall about our stupid wager.
Serafall, practically vibrating with excitement, began grinding her lush, lewd body shamelessly against mine, the generous curves of her breasts rubbing enticingly across my chest through my robes. "I've been waiting the entire week since So-tan messaged me all about your little bet!" she said brightly. "I've had my best scriptwriters spend the whole week working day and night to write you a super amazing, adorable, and sexy part on my Magical Girl Levia-tan show! I'm so excited I can barely contain myself!"
I stared down at her, amused but exasperated. "You certainly don't seem to be containing yourself at all right now," I pointed out dryly, gesturing down toward her curvy hips which were enthusiastically grinding against my rapidly hardening cock.
She simply giggled shamelessly in response, not bothering to hide her eager anticipation. Serafall leaned up to capture my lips once again, pressing herself warmly against me, her soft, inviting mouth hungrily kissing mine before pulling back just slightly. "You better hurry and pack, Harry~," she cooed playfully, eyes glittering mischievously. "You'll be coming with me to the Underworld this entire weekend for filming! Isn't that exciting?"
I groaned softly but resignedly beneath my breath, gently squeezing her slender waist. "Alright, mother, I guess I don't have much of a choice thanks to losing that damn bet with Sona." I sighed dramatically. "Let's just get this over with. I'm sure I'll survive somehow."
Serafall laughed brightly, obviously delighted. "Oh, don't pretend to be so grumpy about it!" she teased cheerfully. "I promise you'll have tons of fun acting on my show! The fans are going to absolutely adore you! I'm sure your role will involve plenty of cute and sexy scenes with me and the other beautiful actresses!"
With one last quick, shamelessly enthusiastic kiss, she finally released me, stepping back toward the door with an eager bounce in her step. Her hips swayed enticingly as she walked, clearly knowing exactly how to keep my eyes glued to her curvy, retreating figure. "I'll meet you in your dorm room once you've packed everything, Harry!" Serafall called back happily. "Don't keep me waiting too long, or I might just come looking for you again!"
I watched my mother saunter cheerfully out of the office, shaking my head slightly in amusement and mild resignation. Narcissa stepped gracefully over beside me, her beautiful face wearing an expression of quiet amusement and gentle sympathy. "I suppose this means we're going to spend the weekend back in the Underworld again?" she murmured softly, though judging by the faint, pleased smile curving her lips, Narcissa clearly didn't mind the idea much at all.
I gave a resigned but affectionate sigh. "Yeah, looks like it. Serafall's definitely not going to let me escape from this one." I chuckled quietly, slipping my arm gently around Narcissa's slender waist. "Although I imagine you'll find some enjoyable ways to keep me entertained in between filming sessions, right, Professor Black?"
Her cheeks flushed faintly at the teasing mention of her new title, eyes glittering playfully. "Oh, you can definitely count on that, Mr. Sitri," she purred seductively, leaning up slightly to brush a soft, lingering kiss against my lips.
I squeezed Narcissa affectionately one last time before reluctantly stepping away. "Alright," I sighed, straightening myself up. "I'd better go tell Hermione, Tonks and my maids Lyra and Lyna about this weekend's plans. At least they'll be excited to join us in the Underworld again, so it shouldn't be too terrible."
On the bright side, at least Lyra and Lyna—my two newest peerage pawns—would certainly find my upcoming Magical Girl Levia-tan guest role endlessly amusing. And yes, I had finally accepted them both into my peerage. Surprisingly, even though they were both powerful, they only took up one pawn piece each. Unlike Tonks who took two pieces. I wonder if it was because of Tonks' metamorphmagus bloodline…?
…When I told Rias and Sona I would be gone all this weekend, they were both sad, wanting to spend more time with me. Sona especially had been busy with the tournament last weekend since she beat my team to go onto face Krum's team and that took up most of her Saturday. Of course, when I told Sona that she could spend time with me in the underworld on set for Magical Levia-tan, she immediately changed her tune and said she'd probably just spend the weekend studying or spending time with Tsubaki, Luna and Rias. I made the same offer to Rias as well but she told me her parents and brother had forbidden her from going on that show…
Of course, there were two beautiful French young women who weren't at all happy about the idea of being left behind. After I went to visit them to tell them I was leaving, Fleur and Gabrielle immediately began clinging tightly to me, determined not to let me escape without them.
"Oh non, Harry! You cannot leave us behind again!" Fleur pleaded, her lovely French-accented voice filled with both disappointment and longing. Her soft, delicate fingers slid sensually across my chest, tracing teasing circles through the thin fabric of my shirt. Fleur always knew exactly how to press my buttons and turn me on.
Beside her, Gabrielle eagerly joined her sister in begging me, her more petite frame molded firmly to my side. "S'il te plaît, mon amour," Gabrielle whispered seductively into my ear, her breath warm and inviting against my skin. "It would be terribly cruel to leave your favorite French girls behind!"
I chuckled softly, reaching up to gently stroke both of their silky blonde hair in a comforting manner. "Believe me, I'd love nothing more than to bring you both along," I said, my voice firm yet gentle. "But you know I can't do that unless you're officially members of my peerage."
Fleur pouted prettily, pressing her lush curves even tighter against my side. Her large, soft breasts flattened deliciously against my chest, and I could easily feel the stiff peaks of her nipples rubbing enticingly against me even through the layers of clothing. Merlin, Fleur clearly wasn't wearing a bra underneath that uniform. Her stunning blue eyes gazed imploringly up into my own, heavy with desire and affection. "Then, why do you not simply accept us both into your peerage, Harry?" she asked softly, her lips brushing gently against mine with each word she spoke. "Gabrielle and I have waited patiently enough, have we not?"
Gabrielle eagerly nodded her agreement beside Fleur, practically vibrating with excitement at the very idea of finally joining my peerage. "Oui, oui!" she said enthusiastically, blue eyes shining brightly with eager anticipation. "You already know that Fleur and I both desperately wish to join you, Harry. We want nothing more than to proudly stand by your side, officially yours in every way possible."
The intensity and sincerity of their desire sent a powerful surge of emotion coursing through me. I already knew full well how deeply both Fleur and Gabrielle cared about me, and how desperately they both wanted to join me officially.
They'd patiently waited, never once pushing or pressuring me into accepting them, even though I knew it must have been agonizingly difficult for two proud and passionate young women like them.
"I care about both of you deeply—far more than I ever expected when we first met. But you have to understand, joining my peerage isn't just a political or magical arrangement. It's deeply intimate and permanent. It means we're bound to each other completely, in every sense of the word."
Gabrielle smiled warmly, leaning her soft cheek eagerly into my palm. "And that is exactly why Fleur and I both wish to join your peerage, mon chéri," she whispered softly. "Because we love you, Harry, and we wish to belong to you completely. Forever."
Fleur leaned forward to gently kiss the corner of my mouth, her lush lips warm and inviting. "Gabrielle speaks nothing but the truth, Harry," she murmured tenderly against my skin. "We have already chosen you, my love. Our hearts, bodies, and souls belong to you alone. Accepting us into your peerage would only formalize the bond that already exists between us!"
I paused briefly at their enthusiastic declarations, my heart swelling at the sincerity and intensity of their emotions. Fleur and Gabrielle clearly meant every word they said, and the way their gorgeous blue eyes gazed imploringly up into mine nearly had me giving in on the spot. But, gently reaching out, I cupped Fleur's cheek softly and leaned in, cutting off further protests with a slow, tender kiss.
Fleur's initial surprise melted quickly into delight as she surrendered into the embrace, her body pressing deliciously closer to mine. Her plush lips moved warmly against my own, soft tongue teasing sensually into my mouth, tasting me eagerly. When we finally parted, Fleur was flushed prettily, her breath hitching slightly as she gazed at me with dazed, longing eyes.
I turned next to Gabrielle, who waited impatiently with adorable anticipation. She nearly threw herself into my arms when I leaned toward her, capturing her lips in a kiss that was every bit as passionate yet tender. Gabrielle's petite figure pressed warmly into me, her fingers tangling lovingly into my hair. She moaned softly, sweetly, her mouth opening eagerly beneath mine as I kissed her thoroughly. When I finally broke the kiss, Gabrielle was adorably flushed, breathless, and gazing up at me with an expression of pure adoration.
With both sisters now gently blushing, their earlier protests momentarily quieted by our shared kisses, I finally felt able to voice the deeper concerns I'd been carefully considering all along.
"Fleur, Gabrielle," I began softly, gently stroking their silky hair as I held them close, "you both know exactly how deeply I care about you. More than anything, I want you by my side—officially mine, as my peerage members, my lovers, and my partners. But family is important to me. I don't just want to accept you into my peerage without your parents fully knowing and approving of the situation."
At my words, both Fleur and Gabrielle visibly froze, their expressions faltering slightly in sudden hesitation and nervousness. Fleur bit her lip anxiously, exchanging an uncertain glance with Gabrielle before turning back toward me with a slightly embarrassed look.
"Our Maman, Apolline, already knows about you being a devil," Fleur admitted quietly, her voice cautious and hesitant. "In fact, she's rather thrilled by it and completely approves of our relationship with you. She's extremely open-minded and… adventurous."
Gabrielle nodded eagerly beside her sister. "Oui, Maman would be overjoyed if we joined your peerage, Harry! She thinks you're absolutely wonderful and perfect for both of us."
I raised an eyebrow curiously, noting that they'd only mentioned their mother's approval thus far. "But your father, Jean—?" I prompted gently, sensing the hesitation from them both.
Fleur and Gabrielle exchanged another awkward look. Fleur finally sighed softly, her expression shifting into something troubled and uncertain. "Papan… does not yet know everything about you, Harry. He knows we are close friends, certainly. But he does not know you're a devil—or about us both becoming your peerage members, your eternal servants. And most certainly not about us both being your lovers at the same time."
Gabrielle winced slightly beside Fleur, nodding timidly. "Papan would not take that news well," she confessed quietly. "He is more traditional than Maman. The idea of both of his daughters openly sharing the same man would… upset him greatly."
I nodded understandingly, my hands gently rubbing soothing circles across their backs as I drew them both close again. "Then perhaps you should use this weekend while I'm away to speak honestly with your parents," I suggested softly. "Your family deserves to know exactly what's happening, and it's important to me that you don't rush impulsively into a permanent decision like this. Even if you're both adults now and capable of making your own choices, it's still important that we do things properly. I want your family to fully understand and accept our relationship, not feel like I'm absconding with their daughters without any warning."
Fleur and Gabrielle looked thoughtful at my words, clearly understanding the seriousness of my request. After a moment of quiet contemplation, Fleur finally nodded slowly, giving me a gentle, appreciative smile. "You're right, Harry," she murmured softly. "It is only fair that our parents hear everything directly from us. We owe them that much, at least."
Gabrielle sighed softly beside Fleur, though her smile was sincere. "We will speak with them honestly this weekend, mon amour," she promised quietly. "We will do this right, just as you ask."
I smiled warmly at them both, deeply relieved they understood and agreed. Leaning down, I pressed gentle, affectionate kisses to each of their foreheads. "Thank you, Fleur, Gabrielle. That means a great deal to me. And believe me—once we have your family's full approval, nothing will stop me from eagerly welcoming you both officially into my peerage."
The beautiful French sisters beamed happily at my words, clinging tightly to me once more. Fleur leaned close to my ear, her voice dropping to a sensual, heated whisper. "Then we look forward greatly to that day, mon amour. And believe me—we will show you exactly how enthusiastically we wish to thank you for being so patient and understanding with us."
Gabrielle giggled seductively beside her sister, blue eyes shining mischievously. "Oh, oui, Harry. You will most certainly not regret waiting for us!"
Chuckling warmly, I embraced them both one last time. As eager as I was for that future moment, I was equally relieved knowing we would approach this important step carefully and with their family's full awareness. After all, when Hermione joined my peerage as my bishop, her parents—already enthusiastic devil worshippers—had readily given their blessing, happily supporting their daughter's eternal bond with me.
Fleur and Gabrielle deserved that same level of openness and respect. After all, these two beautiful witches meant far too much to me for anything less.
And if their father said 'no'… Well, it would probably still happen, but at least he wouldn't be left in the dark.
That was also part of the reason why I wasn't fully accepting Ginny's Weasley's advances yet—not to mention Jasmine and her own friends. I knew as the year went on and we all became better friends that they would eventually find out I was only half-human. I also knew that time was coming soon, but it wouldn't be this weekend no matter how much I'm sure Ginny was looking to cash in my favor. And that wasn't to mention the Slytherin girls Daphne and Tracy either.
Damn, I was almost at a full peerage wasn't I?
I admit, I had been giving this a lot of thought. And I know pretty much all these women were witches, and some other devils would tell me to diversify when it came to my peerage, but I had a type alright!?
And I'd much rather have girls I know and trust in my peerage than just seeking out powerful servants because they had a Sacred Gear or high combat potential.
Other than her Queen Tsubaki, Sona had made that mistake, picking girls that she didn't really get along with—not to mention that creep Saji—and she ended up regretting it. Thankfully she was able to get her pieces back and could start fresh when she was ready, with a girl like Luna—who actually appreciated spending time with Sona as her true friend and future family.
…The teleportation room of Sitri Manor shimmered into view around us, the familiar cool glow of Underworld magic fading as the teleportation spell released its hold. I blinked once, readjusting to the softer, warmer light of home—and was immediately greeted by two warm, welcoming smiles.
My grandfather Sebastian stood proudly in front, beside my beautiful grandmother, Selene.
"Look, look!" Serafall immediately declared with cheerful exuberance, waving an enthusiastic arm in my direction. "I brought back Harry!"
Sebastian stepped forward. My grandfather was a tall, powerfully built devil, with short black hair and sharp blue eyes. He gave me a pleased, approving smile before his gaze drifted curiously behind me toward the rest of our group—specifically, settling on Lyra and Lyna, my devil maids.
"Welcome back, grandson," Sebastian greeted me warmly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in obvious amusement. "And I see you've gained even more lovely women for your peerage than the last time I saw you. Of course—we always approved of Lyra and Lyna, that's why we assigned them to you in the first place."
"Eheheheh!" Lyra and Lyna immediately stepped forward with matching expressions of happiness.
"We're part of Master Harry's peerage now!" Lyra announced cheerfully, her voice filled with open delight.
"And we're all lovey-dovey with him too!" Lyna added enthusiastically, practically vibrating with happiness and pride! "We fuck all the time!"
I face palmed at Lyna's proud statement right there…
Sebastian's smile broadened further, eyes gleaming with satisfaction and amusement. "Ah, excellent. Well done, both of you," he praised.
My grandmother Selene stepped forward then. She had a face that looked remarkably like an older, more version of Sona's. Her eyes were the same unique, vibrant pink shade my aunt possessed, though they held a warmer, more maternal kindness. And, though I would never dare say it aloud—especially not in front of Sona herself—my grandmother's chest was noticeably larger than my aunt's figure…
Selene gave Lyra and Lyna a softer, affectionate smile, her eyes gentle and encouraging. "Yes, very well done indeed," she praised the two beautiful maids. Then she turned slightly, addressing everyone else standing behind me. "Everyone's rooms are already prepared, clean and ready for your weekend stay here."
"Thank you, Ma'am," Hermione and Narcissa responded politely, bowing their heads respectfully toward Selene. My grandmother smiled warmly in return, clearly pleased by their manners.
Tonks gave a bit of a more awkward wave. She'd need some time to adjust to all the decadence that would soon be in her life.
But any further polite conversation was abruptly cut short by my mother's boundless enthusiasm. Serafall latched onto my arm possessively, tugging me insistently toward the exit with eager excitement practically radiating from her every movement. "Enough about all that boring stuff!" she declared dramatically, ignoring everyone's bemused looks as she began dragging me toward the door. "It's time for Harry to visit the set of my show! We're going to film an entire trilogy of episodes starring Harry this weekend!"
My brain momentarily stuttered in shock at hearing her cheerful announcement. Wait—what?
"Trilogy!?" I sputtered incredulously, stumbling slightly in surprise as Serafall happily dragged me forward. "Mother, your show's episodes are usually an hour long each! Three whole episodes?" How many hours of filming would that take!?
She merely giggled shamelessly, utterly delighted by my horrified reaction. "Yep!" she confirmed cheerfully. "This is going to be the greatest television event in the entire history of the Underworld! The fans are going to go absolutely wild!"
Holy crap. I inwardly cursed myself bitterly for having foolishly assumed that losing that stupid bet against Sona wouldn't actually be that big of a deal.
This was going to be one very long weekend.
…After Mother enthusiastically dragged me across the massive filming complex, I finally found myself standing awkwardly amidst bustling film crews, actors, actresses, and costumed devils milling about. The entire place had a surreal energy, with elaborate magical girl sets complete with oversized props, intricate spell effects, and far too much pink and glitter for my tastes.
Standing next to a giant fake magical wand covered in glittery pink ribbons, I caught sight of a beautiful, voluptuous woman approaching me. Her long, flowing hair was a strikingly vibrant shade of pink that matched her large, expressive eyes. Sprouting from the top of her head were a pair of polished black horns. Her figure was downright sinful, voluptuous curves generously accentuated by a blatantly slutty dark magical-girl costume.
I knew her at once from occasional glimpses of the Magical Girl Levia-tan episodes I'd watched with Sona. She was Estelle, the recurring "Dark Magical Girl" character—an antagonist who showed up a few times each season, always with a tragic backstory and complicated motivations. Today though, her face was marred by visible exhaustion.
She gave me a tired, somewhat forced smile as she approached, clearly noticing my stare. "Hey there. I'm Mary. I'm playing Estelle, this week's recurring villain," she introduced herself politely.
I blinked slightly, surprised. "Mary?" I asked. "That's kind of an unusual name for a devil, isn't it?"
She sighed, a weary chuckle slipping out. "Yeah, well, it is what it is," Mary shrugged lightly. Up close, the beautiful devil looked even more exhausted. Noticing my concern, she smiled ruefully, waving off my unspoken question. "Don't mind me. It's not your fault, anyway. Boss Lady Leviathan just made all the staff and writers pull multiple all-nighters this week, working overtime to make sure everything was perfect for when her precious son Harry-kun finally showed up on set." Her tired smirk was good-natured, but tinged with obvious irritation.
I cringed guiltily. "Sorry about that. Really, I am. My mother gets way too carried away with these things."
Mary chuckled, waving my apology aside. "Don't worry about it. It happens. Speaking of which," she added, tilting her head curiously, "do you actually know your part yet? Have you read your script?"
I hesitated slightly. "Ah… no, actually. I literally just got dragged here by Serafall. Haven't had a chance yet."
Mary groaned softly, clearly not pleased. "Of course not," she muttered. "Alright, listen carefully, I'll explain it quickly and simply, so pay attention."
I nodded seriously, focusing my attention entirely upon her despite the distracting amount of cleavage she had spilling out of that sinfully tight magical-girl outfit.
Mary cleared her throat and launched straight into a concise yet disturbingly elaborate summary of the plot. "Your character's name is Harold. You're Magical Girl Levia-tan's childhood friend and secret crush from long ago. You went missing over a decade ago after you accidentally got isekai'd into another world—"
"Wait—" I interrupted dryly, already confused. "I got what now?"
"Isekai'd," she repeated patiently, clearly fighting back another sigh. "It's a popular trope. Basically, you were suddenly summoned or transported from your original world into a different one. Anyway, after finally making it back home after a decade, you and Levia-tan were about to reunite romantically, when suddenly you got summoned again—to a completely different world this time!"
"Wait, wait," I repeated flatly, giving Mary an incredulous look. "I got isekai'd… twice?"
WHY!?
"Don't blame me," Mary responded dryly. "I didn't write it. The writers just use whatever's popular nowadays. Apparently double-isekai is all the rage. But yes, you've been summoned a second time. Unfortunately, this second world is ruled by an evil human church that hates devils. You're enslaved by the church, brainwashed and forcibly turned into an 'evil hero' who must fight devils—your own people—in their wars against the Underworld."
I stared blankly. "That's… bizarrely convoluted."
"Oh, it gets better," Mary continued with sarcastic cheerfulness. "Levia-tan decides to rescue you, traveling to this second world and fighting against the evil church. But you've been so thoroughly brainwashed, you're forced to fight her repeatedly throughout these three episodes. It's a whole emotional saga of tragic reunions, painful betrayals, and heartbreaking battles between you and your childhood friend, your true love—Levia-tan herself."
She paused, taking a much-needed breath after rattling off all that insanity. "Got all that, Harry?" Mary asked dryly, holding up an alarmingly thick stack of pages, easily over 300 in total. "Because this—" she shook the heavy script for emphasis "—is your script."
I swallowed visibly, my gaze nervously following the intimidatingly thick stack of paper in her hands. "That… looks like a lot," I muttered weakly.
Mary gave me a sympathetic, resigned smile. "You'd better start reading quickly, Harry. Filming starts soon, and Boss Lady Leviathan is determined to make this the most epic and memorable trilogy of Magical Girl Levia-tan episodes ever filmed. And unfortunately—" she paused dramatically, placing a soft hand gently on my shoulder, "—you're the star."
I groaned softly beneath my breath, already feeling a headache forming. Why on earth had I ever made that stupid bet with Sona Sitri?
Mary patted my shoulder reassuringly. "Welcome to show business, Harry-kun. I'm sure you'll survive… probably."
– Lilja –
"...Welcome to Hogwarts, Lilja Nornas," Dumbledore greeted her warmly, his eyes sparkling with their customary warmth and kindness as he stood behind his large, cluttered desk. Yet, as he regarded her carefully, Lilja noticed an odd flicker of surprise cross the old wizard's expression. He blinked several times, as though trying to clear a mist from his vision, before giving her a gentle yet oddly solemn smile.
"Is something wrong, Professor Dumbledore?" she asked politely, keeping her tone calm and measured.
He gave her a quiet, thoughtful look, stroking his silvery beard slowly. "Forgive me, Miss Nornas," he said gently, "it's just that you bear a remarkable resemblance to an old and dearly remembered student of mine."
For a brief, unguarded moment, Lilja felt an impulse to confess—to explain exactly why she resembled Lily Evans so closely. She wanted desperately to reveal that, in a sense, she was Lily Evans, reborn eighteen years earlier as Lilja Nornas, a proud Valkyrie now under Odin's service and sent to Hogwarts on a special mission. But the words died quickly upon her tongue. She was no longer merely Lily Evans, and this wasn't the right moment.
Lilja had her own responsibilities now—she was here specifically to investigate the devils who had embedded themselves within the school—her past would have to wait.
Perhaps someday soon she could speak openly with Dumbledore about her true identity, but definitely not now.
Still, it brought Lilja a surprising rush of genuine warmth to see the old headmaster again. Albus Dumbledore had always been kind and supportive in her past life, and to find him alive and unchanged—even after she'd died and been reborn as a Valkyrie—felt both comforting and strangely surreal. Severus Snape and Remus Lupin, two close friends from her previous life, were also currently teaching at Hogwarts. The thought filled her chest with anticipation, she couldn't wait to see her old friends again, even if they didn't yet know who she really was.
Perhaps later, Lilja thought privately. After I've completed my mission, I'll tell them the truth. But for now, it's safer to remain quiet.
She'd deliberately arrived on a quiet weekend to give herself time to adjust to Hogwarts once again. Classes weren't in session, which would allow her to spend a couple of days acclimating herself to the familiar corridors and staircases—and, more importantly, observing discreetly the devils she'd been tasked to investigate.
"Since you're a rather special transfer student," Dumbledore was saying kindly, interrupting her thoughts, "I'll leave it up to you whether you'd prefer to be sorted in the Great Hall before your fellow students, or privately, here in my office."
Lilja considered briefly, glancing around the cozy familiarity of the headmaster's chambers, before giving him a grateful nod. "Here will be fine, Professor," she answered politely.
Dumbledore reached behind his desk and retrieved the old, battered Sorting Hat from its shelf. A rush of nostalgia filled Lilja as she stared at the worn folds of the magical hat, memories of her previous sorting flooding vividly back into her mind. Dumbledore placed it carefully upon her head, stepping back with a curious expression.
Instantly, she felt the familiar probing of the Hat's consciousness inside her mind.
"Well now," the Hat's voice rumbled with amusement. "Isn't this fascinating? It's exceedingly rare that I ever have the pleasure of sorting the same student twice..."
Lilja stiffened slightly in surprise. "Rarely?" she asked mentally.
"Quite rarely indeed," the Hat confirmed casually. "But you're not the first reincarnated student I've encountered, my dear. Merlin himself tends to pop up every few hundred years or so..."
Lilja nearly choked in shock at this incredible revelation, her mouth falling open slightly despite her best efforts at composure. Before she could recover her wits enough to question the Hat further, it abruptly shouted aloud with a confident, ringing cry that echoed dramatically around Dumbledore's office.
"SLYTHERIN!"
She sat frozen in stunned silence, the Hat still perched jauntily upon her head, a bewildered sense of shock washing through her body. Lilja had once proudly called Gryffindor her home—had once defined herself by the bravery and camaraderie she'd felt there.
But now, the Hat had seen fit to place her into Slytherin house instead?
Had she truly changed that drastically in her new life as a Valkyrie?
"Congratulations, Miss Nornas," Dumbledore remarked cheerfully, stepping forward to remove the Sorting Hat gently from her head. He offered her another warm, reassuring smile as he nodded toward her robes, now magically shifting their colors from neutral to the green and silver of Slytherin. "The Hat always knows best."
Lilja rose carefully to her feet. Perhaps this was simply reflective of her mission—of her need to be cunning, ambitious, and subtle as she investigated the devils hidden at Hogwarts.
"You're free to explore the castle," Dumbledore continued gently, seemingly unaware of her internal struggle. "Feel free to reacquaint yourself with the layout—though I'm sure you'll remember more than you expect. After dinner this evening, I'll have some prefects show you to the Slytherin common room."
Lilja inclined her head politely in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," she said quietly.
He smiled gently in return, eyes twinkling kindly behind his half-moon spectacles.
Since she already had the entire castle memorized from the memories of her last life, Lilja saw no point in aimlessly wandering the corridors to reacquaint herself. She could recall every staircase, every hidden passageway, and every tucked-away classroom as clearly as if she'd just walked through them yesterday.
Instead, she decided it would be a much better use of her time to seek out students and begin quietly gathering information. There were three schools currently in the castle, and she figured she could get better gossip from foreigners since Hogwarts students might not trust a sudden transfer like her. Especially since she was a Slytherin…
She was particularly curious about Harry.
Despite herself, the memory of seeing him passionately kiss those two devil princesses still burned vividly in her mind. Lilja felt a confused rush of conflicting emotions every time she pictured it—a strange, inappropriate lust that sent her heart racing, mingled deeply with guilt and embarrassment. But she knew almost nothing concrete about him yet, other than he was clearly tied closely to some of the most powerful devil families in existence.
She walked leisurely along the corridor toward the castle's courtyard. Her green eyes moved carefully over every group of students she passed, searching for a likely gathering where she could casually slip into the conversation without arousing suspicion.
It wasn't long before she spotted a group of students from the French school gathered together just outside beneath a stone archway. Several beautiful young women, all dressed impeccably in their pale blue uniforms, stood huddled closely, gossiping animatedly in rapid-fire French. Judging by the hushed giggles and conspiratorial smiles, Lilja guessed their current topic of conversation was something juicy and scandalous.
Perfect.
Straightening her posture, she moved confidently toward the girls, adopting an easy, friendly smile as she approached. She'd always been quite skilled socially—even more so now in her current incarnation as a proud Valkyrie—and smoothly insinuating herself into existing conversations had never been difficult for her.
"Bonjour!" Lilja greeted them warmly, her voice polite and inviting. She smiled gently, careful to project just enough vulnerability that they wouldn't immediately feel threatened or suspicious of her sudden approach. "I'm Lilja! Mind if I join you?"
The French girls paused, regarding her curiously at first. But her friendly manner quickly put them at ease, and soon enough they smiled back welcomingly.
"Of course, Lilja!" replied one girl—a petite brunette with large, expressive eyes. "We were just gossiping. You picked a good time."
The others giggled, giving Lilja appreciative glances. "Yes, come join us," another girl added eagerly, adjusting her pale blonde hair. "We love new friends!"
Lilja stepped easily into their circle, immediately blending in with practiced social skill. She allowed the gossip to flow naturally around her for a minute, making a few friendly, harmless comments as they discussed trivial school drama and minor scandals back home. She laughed lightly at all the right times, subtly ingratiating herself further.
Then, seizing her opening, Lilja gently steered the conversation toward the ongoing Triwizard Tournament.
"I'm so sorry to change the subject," Lilja said lightly, adopting a tone of casual curiosity, "but I'm really quite interested in this tournament I've heard so much about. What do you girls think of the participants?"
They exchanged eager looks, clearly thrilled to gossip openly about the competitors. Lilja waited patiently, allowing them to chatter excitedly for a moment about all the champions, Lilja gently interjected again, steering the conversation toward her true target.
"And what about Harry Potter?" she asked softly, maintaining her carefully neutral, politely curious expression. "I heard he's competing too. What do you think of him?"
The French girls all exchanged puzzled glances, frowning uncertainly as though Lilja had said something baffling.
"I'm sorry," the brunette finally spoke up hesitantly, giving Lilja an awkward look, "but what exactly do you mean by Harry Potter? Nobody calls him that anymore, obviously."
Lilja's heart abruptly froze mid-beat. "What… do you mean?" Lilja asked very quietly, carefully modulating her voice to sound politely puzzled rather than panicked. "Isn't Potter his last name?"
One of the blondes laughed softly, shaking her head incredulously. "Non, non! Everyone already knows that wasn't his real last name. That's been common knowledge in the wizarding world for weeks now!"
Lilja's mind stalled, a cold wave of absolute horror flooding her. Common knowledge!? Everyone…knew!?
A hot rush of shame and embarrassment surged violently through her, leaving Lilja momentarily dizzy. They knew she had cheated on James Potter!? But—how? Why!? How was it even possible that such a shameful, intimate secret had somehow become public knowledge?
But the French girls didn't seem to notice her internal panic, their expressions brightening again as they eagerly resumed gossiping about Harry, unaware of Lilja's inner turmoil.
"Oh, but speaking of Harry Sitri," one of the girls purred eagerly, her eyes sparkling brightly with open admiration, "have you seen him up close yet, Lilja? Merlin, he is simply incroyable—"
Another girl giggled, nodding vigorously. "Oui, oui! Handsome, brave, powerful… Honestly, we're all so jealous of those veela sluts who've already sunk their claws into him."
Her friends laughed knowingly, nodding in enthusiastic agreement. Lilja remained frozen, too overwhelmed by shock and confusion to even fully process their words.
"I wish the Boy-Who-Lived would kiss me half as passionately as he kisses those lucky French whores," the brunette sighed wistfully, staring dreamily off into the distance.
Lilja finally snapped sharply back into awareness, her heart nearly stopping again at the girl's casual comment. "The… Boy-Who-Lived?" she repeated numbly, forcing her voice steady despite the bewilderment churning violently inside her chest. "And—his last name is Sitri?"
The French students gave her another odd, curious look, clearly baffled by Lilja's seemingly clueless questions. "Oui, of course," one of them answered slowly, frowning faintly. "Harry Sitri. Everyone knows he's the son of the deceased Lily Evans, but he apparently has a living mother named Serafall Sitri. We all saw her when she was a guest during the first task. She is a bit short, but very beautiful. It's clear where Harry gets his good looks from!" she said, her friends all giggled with her.
Serafall—Sitri—LEVIATHAN!?
Lilja was speechless! That beautiful, mesmerizing woman she'd drunkenly hooked up with all those years ago in that Muggle pub—the one who'd gotten Lily Evans pregnant that single reckless night—had been Serafall Leviathan herself?
A Satan-class devil!? But—how? And why?
And what exactly was this "Boy-Who-Lived" thing they kept mentioning? Her confusion spiraled deeper, drowning her in unanswered questions.
She forced a shaky smile toward the French girls, hiding her turmoil. "Oh—right, of course," Lilja lied smoothly, voice carefully steady. "Sorry, I'm still catching up on all the gossip."
They laughed good-naturedly, easily forgiving her apparent ignorance. Lilja took a slow, steadying breath and forced herself to refocus, even as her mind reeled.
All she knew was that her mission suddenly got a lot more complicated. Her son was a half-devil.
"Um…" Lilja cut in again. "Speaking of Harry Sitri, do any of you perhaps know the spots around the castle he tends to frequent? I'd like to speak with him myself."
The French girls immediately burst into amused giggles, exchanging knowing glances with sparkling eyes. The petite brunette leaned closer, giving Lilja an openly teasing smirk. "Oh, get in line, chérie!" she purred playfully, eyes glittering mischievously. "Half the girls in this castle are eager to corner him somewhere quiet and private, myself included." Her friends laughed lightly, nodding enthusiastically in agreement.
Another of the French witches, a statuesque blonde, sighed dramatically, staring dreamily off into the distance. "Oui, who wouldn't want that gorgeous man to bend them over and give them a good pounding?" she said bluntly, her voice shamelessly husky. "I'd happily surrender myself to him anytime. I'm dripping just thinking about it!"
Lilja felt her cheeks warm involuntarily at the girl's explicit admission. Clearly Harry—her Harry, her son—had quite the reputation among the witches. She wasn't certain whether she should feel proud or embarrassed about that particular revelation.
But before Lilja could even formulate a response, the third girl suddenly spoke up with a small scoff of irritation. She rolled her eyes disdainfully. "Bah, forget about catching him around the castle for now. Haven't you heard?" she said sourly. "Those annoying Veela sluts, Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour, were both sulking miserably all day long back in the Beauxbatons carriage. Apparently, Harry Sitri will be away the entire weekend!"
Lilja felt a sudden stab of disappointment twist sharply inside her chest. "Fuck," Lilja grumbled irritably, scowling faintly in open annoyance at the unwelcome news.
The French girls giggled again at Lilja's reaction, clearly assuming her annoyance was simply frustration at missing out on a chance to seduce Harry herself.
"Exactly!" the brunette said with exaggerated sympathy. "It's terribly unfair, isn't it? And those Delacour sisters—ugh, they're always monopolizing his attention. But I suppose we can hardly blame them, can we?" She winked knowingly at Lilja. "After all, we'd all do the same in their position."
Lilja forced herself to return their playful smiles. "Thank you all for telling me," she murmured softly. "It seems I'll just have to wait patiently for his return, then..."
The girls giggled teasingly again, amused by her obvious interest in Harry. Lilja kept her pleasant smile carefully in place as she quietly excused herself, quickly walking away before her composed façade cracked completely.
Once safely out of sight, Lilja finally allowed a quiet sigh of genuine frustration to escape her lips, her eyes narrowing slightly with determination.
Fine, she thought bitterly. She would wait. And in the meantime, she'd study up everything she'd missed while she was "dead."
Because—clearly—it was a lot more than she thought it was.
XXX
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