Chapter 3:
– Harry –
We finally made it to Hermione's house, both of us more than a little tired from the insanity of the night, but we did have a nice dinner at least. The street was quiet, most of the nearby houses dark except for a few lit windows.
Hermione fiddled with her bag strap, biting her lip nervously as she glanced at the front door.
"So, um," I said quietly, shifting my weight a little, "are you sure it's alright if I stay over? I can just look for a hotel or something nearby, if that's easier. I know it's really late, but the last bus is long gone and I don't think I'd even be able to get a cab out here at this hour. My place and the Dursleys are both way too far to walk." Dudley had been my ride, and he was probably still shagging that girl from the bar. If he had the stamina of course. It had been a couple hours after all.
Hermione shook her head quickly, her cheeks pink in the porch light. "No, it's fine, Harry. Honestly, I… I've never had a friend over before. Not once." Her tone was shy but hopeful, and I could tell she meant it.
I teased her. "Glad I could be your first, then."
Hermione rolled her eyes but grinned, and led me up to the front door. She unlocked it quietly, glancing at me one more time as she turned the handle.
When we stepped inside. The lights were on in the living room, and as we stepped in, I realized we weren't alone.
Hermione froze just inside the door.
Seated on the couch were a man and a woman, both probably in their forties. The man had short brown hair, some grey at his temples, and wore a pressed collared shirt. He had Hermione's eyes. The woman next to him was just as attractive as her daughter was, her hair a little longer and wavy, wearing a cozy sweater.
Both of them looked up at us the second we walked in, their faces serious—like they'd been waiting for Hermione to come home.
Hermione's posture stiffened a little. "Mum, Dad… I'm home," she said, her voice quiet but steady.
Her mother stood up first, giving her daughter a quick look to make sure she was alright. "Hermione, you're late," she said, her voice carrying a mix of relief and worry. Then she glanced at me.
Her father stood as well, eyes moving between me and Hermione, then settling on me with a look that felt like he was weighing me up in a single glance.
Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. "Um, this is Harry. Harry, these are my parents."
I smiled politely, feeling suddenly self-conscious about my hair and my clothes after everything that happened tonight. "Hi. Sorry to barge in so late. There wasn't really anywhere else to go at this hour…" I trailed off.
As soon as I stepped into the living room behind Hermione, I realized her parents weren't angry to see me there with their daughter. They were actually grinning, both of them looking genuinely pleased.
It was like I'd just made their night by showing up on their doorstep with their daughter.
I caught the father's voice, not bothering to whisper. "I told you she'd bring someone home eventually, Janet! And here I thought she was on the fast track to lonely cat lady status!"
Hermione heard that too and spun around, pouting at her parents. "Mum, Dad! I only have one cat for the record!"
Her mother let out a soft laugh and turned her warm brown eyes to me. "Come, sit down," she said, gesturing to an empty armchair across from the couch. "We're so glad you're here. It's nice to finally meet one of Hermione's… very close friends." She put a little too much emphasis on the word friends, as if she didn't quite believe it.
Her dad grinned at her mom. "Oh come now, my dear. They're obviously more than that!"
Hermione shot me an exasperated look, cheeks flushed pink. "Mum. Dad. Harry and I are just friends. He's not my boyfriend!"
Hermione's dad stood up and disappeared into the kitchen briefly. When he returned, he carried two cold bottles of beer. He handed one to me with an easy grin and settled back comfortably onto the couch, twisting open his own bottle with practiced ease.
"So, Harry," he started casually, taking a long pull from his beer before fixing me with an amused look, "you have to tell me—how exactly did my reclusive, antisocial daughter manage to meet a fine young man like yourself?"
I felt a smile tugging at my lips and relaxed back against the armchair, feeling oddly at ease despite the initial awkwardness. The beer was pleasantly cold against my palm. I twisted off the cap, took a drink, and felt the cold, slightly bitter liquid slide smoothly down my throat. It felt refreshing after the insane evening we'd had.
I glanced over at Hermione, noticing she was sitting on the edge of the couch beside her mum, clearly nervous and still blushing. Her cheeks were pink, and she kept shooting embarrassed glares at her dad for his bluntness.
"Well, actually," I started, setting my beer down on the coffee table in front of me, "we met at a bookstore earlier tonight. I was browsing for books about—well, let's just say it's a topic I'm completely clueless about. Hermione spotted me and pretty much rescued me from making a fool of myself." I chuckled, recalling how overwhelmed I'd felt standing lost among all those magical books.
Hermione's dad laughed, nodding slowly in obvious understanding. Her mum smiled softly, glancing fondly at her daughter. Neither of them looked remotely surprised to hear we'd met surrounded by books.
"Yes, that sounds exactly like Hermione," her mother said, voice filled with gentle humor. "Our daughter has practically lived in bookstores since she learned how to read."
Hermione let out a quiet sigh and shot me an apologetic look. "Sorry about my parents, Harry," she said softly. "They're pretty convinced I'm destined to be alone forever, with nothing but books and cats for company."
Her dad chuckled again, sipping his beer as he leaned back, completely unfazed. "It's not our fault you've been so bloody antisocial your entire life, sweetheart."
Hermione rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated but used to their teasing. "I'm not antisocial! I just have standards," she muttered defensively. "And the people at school don't meet them!" She finished with a huff.
I couldn't help laughing at the playful banter between Hermione and her parents. The room felt comfortable, warm, and welcoming, something I definitely hadn't expected earlier when we'd arrived at her doorstep.
"So, Harry," her mum continued after another sip of her wine, looking at me curiously. "Tell us a bit about yourself. Hermione rarely brings anyone home, let alone a handsome boy. We'd like to know more about you…"
Before I could answer Hermione's mum, a loud, unexpected knock at the front door made us all turn our heads sharply toward the hallway.
I frowned slightly, confused. "Are you all expecting any late-night visitors?"
Hermione's dad shook his head, setting his beer bottle down slowly. He checked the time on his watch and raised an eyebrow. "Not at almost midnight, no."
Hermione stood quickly, looking a little uneasy. "I'll get it," she said quietly, stepping toward the front door.From my position in the living room, I couldn't quite see who was there. I heard Hermione make a surprised noise, her voice rising slightly. "Um, can we help you? Hey—what are you doing? You can't just barge in!"
Before anyone could move or respond, the person at the door stepped confidently past Hermione and into the living room. Hermione's parents immediately stiffened, their eyes wide and wary.
My mouth went dry when I got a clear look at the newcomer.
A stunningly beautiful young woman stood there, dressed in the most bizarre, sparkly outfit I'd ever seen, something straight out of a cosplay magazine. Her silky black hair was tied into two long, glossy twin tails cascading past her shoulders. Her curvy, voluptuous body was barely contained by the tight-fitting costume, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. My eyes lingered briefly on her generous breasts, straining enticingly against the shimmering fabric.
When I managed to tear my gaze upward, I was stunned again. Her deep blue eyes met mine, exactly the same striking shade as my own. My breath caught painfully in my throat, my heart suddenly racing in confusion and surprise.
Something about her felt incredibly familiar, like I somehow already knew her.
In a blur of movement, she launched herself across the room—she literally leapt. I barely had time to flinch before her full weight landed directly on top of me in the armchair. Her body slammed into mine, soft and warm and way too close. I staggered backward into the cushions, caught completely off guard.
My face was instantly buried in her chest. Her breasts were massive, soft, and barely contained by the top of her glittery outfit. I could hardly breathe. Her arms were wrapped tightly around my shoulders as she laughed in delight.
"Hi, Harry!" she said cheerfully, squeezing me tighter.
"W-what the hell—?!" I gasped, struggling to breathe as I tried to push myself up. "Who the hell are you?!"
Her grip didn't ease, and her boobs were still crushing my face.
"Oh, sorry sorry!" she chirped. She finally pulled back just enough for me to breathe, but her hands stayed on my shoulders. Her face was now just inches from mine. Her expression was completely thrilled. "Wow," she said softly, eyes studying me closely. "You look just like I imagined. You have my eyes!"
My brain froze. "What?"
Behind her, Hermione stood near the hallway, mouth open in shock. Her parents looked like they didn't know whether to intervene or call the police.
"Who the hell is this?" Hermione demanded, voice rising with disbelief at the audacity of this woman.
The woman turned slightly to look at her, but didn't let go of me. "Hi! I'm Serafall! I'm Harry's mom!"
"What?!" Hermione shrieked.
"What?!" I shouted at the exact same time.
Serafall just smiled brightly and pulled me into another suffocating hug, like nothing about this situation was remotely weird.
"Oh my gosh," I muttered, dazed. "What the fuck is happening right now…?"
My mind was still spinning wildly as I tried to catch up to the insane reality unfolding around me.
Serafall—my mother?
Even though the goblins had promised to contact her, I didn't expect her to show up immediately, certainly not bursting into Hermione's house at midnight.
Serafall made no attempt to get off my lap. In fact, she nestled even closer. My brain was still lost in a torrent of thoughts, trying to process if this was even real right now. Was this actually her, and was she actually here?
"...Excuse me," Hermione's mother, Janet, finally spoke up. Her voice was hesitant and trembling slightly, clearly unsettled by the bizarre situation. "Did you say your name was… Serafall?"
She turned slightly, facing Hermione's mother with a playful, confident smirk. "Indeed, I am the great and powerful Serafall Levia-tan!" she declared proudly. "Or Serafall Leviathan, if you're feeling boring..."
Hermione's parents immediately reacted in a way that left my jaw hanging open.
Both Janet and her husband quickly slid off the couch and dropped down to their knees right there on the plush carpet, their heads bowed respectfully.
"Forgive us for not immediately recognizing your greatness, my lady!" Hermione's father said, voice genuinely apologetic and reverent. "Please, accept our deepest apologies!"
What the actual fuck was going on right now?
But before I could even voice my confusion, I watched Hermione get onto her knees alongside her parents. Her cheeks flushed a deep, embarrassed red, and she looked mortified, but there she was, head bowed, clearly showing respect.
"Uh… Hermione?" I managed to say. "Mind explaining what the hell you and your parents are doing right now?"
Hermione glanced up nervously, her eyes wide and hesitant as she bit her lower lip anxiously. "Oh, um… Well, the thing is, Harry, I really should have recognized the name Sitri when you mentioned it earlier. You see, my parents and I… we are—I suppose—Satanists." Her voice trailed off sheepishly, cheeks still bright red.
I blinked at her, momentarily speechless. My brain struggled to process this. Today alone, I'd discovered magic was real, that I was apparently famous, that I was a devil, and now Hermione and her nice, dentist parents were apparently devil worshippers.
"Wait," I finally muttered incredulously, still uncomfortably aware of Serafall's curvy form pressed into mine. "So… you worship devils?"
"Y–Yes…?" Hermione replied hesitantly.
I stared back at them, stunned and overwhelmed. Serafall giggled softly beside my ear.
I cleared my throat awkwardly.
"Oh… okay?" I replied uncertainly. I wasn't entirely sure what else to say. After everything that had happened today, I was too exhausted to even process this properly.
I mean, I literally just found out today that I'm a devil. Honestly, before today I was raised by my Aunt Petunia, who's extremely Christian…
I had no idea how she or uncle Vernon would feel once they found out they'd been raising a devil for the past 19 years.
I imagined they would not take it well…
Serafall finally eased herself off my lap, standing gracefully and brushing a few loose strands of her glossy black hair away from her face. She turned back toward me, those deep blue eyes—identical to mine—as she studied my face. "Sorry about that, Harry," she said lightly, giving a soft, easy laugh. "I bet you're feeling pretty overwhelmed right now, aren't you? I recognize that look—my little sister So-tan makes that same face whenever things get a bit crazy."
I exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand across my face in exhaustion. "Overwhelmed doesn't even begin to cover it," I admitted bluntly. My gaze flickered to Hermione, suddenly feeling guilty. "Hermione, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't exactly lie, but—I probably should have corrected you when you assumed I was just a wizard. Truth is, I'm actually half-devil, apparently." My voice trailed off awkwardly as I watched her reaction closely.
Hermione smiled gently, shaking her head as she finally stood back up from the floor. "Harry, that's honestly fine. It's not like you had much opportunity to explain everything. Besides," she continued, her tone becoming thoughtful, "it makes perfect sense now. It finally explains why Harry Potter—or, I suppose, Harry Sitri—never showed up at Hogwarts when he was supposed to."
I nodded slowly, feeling a pang of regret. "You know, I think I really would have liked going there," I admitted quietly. "From everything you described, it sounds like an amazing school."
Beside me, Serafall's eyes suddenly glittered brightly with interest, and her lips curled into a small, secretive smile. She cleared her throat gently, pulling everyone's attention back toward her as she addressed me again.
"Harry, I know this is all probably very confusing for you—I mean, it's even a little confusing for me, and I've only just arrived here. But, I was wondering…" she paused briefly, looking somewhat hesitant for the first time since she arrived. Her voice softened just a bit, becoming genuinely earnest. "Would you like to come with me? We can go somewhere a little less crowded, and I'll explain everything you want to know—about me, your heritage, and about devils in general."
I hesitated for a long moment, biting the inside of my cheek as my mind raced. I turned to Hermione and her parents, who had finally gotten to their feet again but still looked at Serafall with awe and reverence.
Did I really want to run off with some random woman who had just showed up a couple minutes ago claiming to be my long lost mother?
Yes…? I kind of did?
Taking a steadying breath, I finally made my decision. "Okay, I'll go with you," I agreed quietly, feeling strangely nervous but also genuinely curious about everything she could tell me. Turning back toward Hermione and her parents, I gave a sincere, grateful smile. "Thank you so much for offering me a place to stay tonight. It really meant a lot, especially after how insane tonight has been. But—" I glanced sideways at Serafall again, feeling my pulse quicken slightly. "—I think I should probably go with my… mom."
"He called me mom! I'm so freaking happy right now!" Serafall declared. Mostly to herself.
Hermione's dad quickly stepped forward, nodding enthusiastically as he shook my hand warmly. "You're always welcome here anytime, Harry," he assured me sincerely. He then immediately turned his attention to Serafall, giving her a deep, respectful bow. "And you as well, my lady. I can't begin to express how much of an honor it is to meet you in person!"
Serafall giggled softly, clearly amused by the situation and the way Hermione's family was reacting to her presence. She waved a hand casually. "Oh, please! It's always such a thrill to meet enthusiastic fans," she laughed warmly.
Beside her father, Hermione smiled slightly, still looking a bit embarrassed by her parents' reactions. She stepped forward, catching my eye and holding my gaze for a long moment. "Harry," she started quietly, cheeks still flushed slightly, "please keep in touch, okay? I'd still really like to be your friend, even if you did turn out to be a bit more interesting than just a wizard."
I laughed, nodding eagerly. "I promise, Hermione. Tonight was insane, but meeting you was honestly the best part of it."
With that, I turned back toward Serafall—mom? Who was waiting patiently near the doorway with a bright, cheerful smile on her lips. "Ready to go, Harry?" she asked gently, extending her hand toward me.
Taking another deep, calming breath, I finally reached out and took her offered hand, feeling the soft, smooth warmth of her palm as she closed her fingers gently around mine.
"Yeah," I said simply, giving her a small, slightly nervous smile. "I'm ready."
…
Serafall and I ended up checking into a hotel for the night—not just any hotel, but the most expensive and luxurious hotel in all of London. That she had teleported us to. Because literally teleporting was something we could do as devils, apparently.
No wonder she found me so fast…
Serafall rented out the penthouse suite without even hesitating at the astronomical price tag of a hundred thousand pounds per night.
Clearly, money was something we Sitris had more than enough of.
In the elevator, Serafall pressed herself close against my side the entire way up. She was apparently very comfortable with physical contact. The entire ride, her hands were wrapped tightly around my arm, fingers gently stroking my skin in affectionate, rhythmic circles.
When the elevator doors opened to the penthouse suite, I was momentarily stunned by just how absurdly luxurious the room was. Polished marble floors stretched across an enormous, high-ceilinged space filled with expensive-looking furniture and elegant decor. Huge windows gave us a sweeping view of London at night, twinkling lights sprawling out in every direction beneath us.
Serafall excitedly pulled me over to a richly upholstered couch, sitting down and immediately pulling me down beside her. She didn't let go of my arm, leaning in and pressing herself comfortably against me, her silky, sweet-smelling hair tickling my cheek as she nestled close. Her chest pressed firmly against me, and it took all of my concentration to keep my mind clear and focused.
When I glanced down at her face, I noticed she looked simultaneously thrilled and anxious. Her deep-blue eyes shone brightly, the same color as my own, studying me intently as she finally spoke.
"I'm sorry if I just came out of nowhere earlier tonight, Harry," Serafall said softly, her voice filled with genuine nervousness. She tightened her grip gently on my arm as if afraid I might vanish. "I was just so excited when the filthy little goblins told me I had a son! Honestly, I wasn't expecting to suddenly become a mom today. It feels pretty weird, and probably even weirder for you." Her voice softened further, becoming earnestly tender. "But I promise, I'll do whatever I can to make up for all the time we've already missed. I'll be the best mom ever, Harry!"
I looked at her carefully, noticing the genuine sincerity and anxious hope shining in her expression. My chest tightened a little, and I gave her a reassuring smile.
"It's okay, really," I replied, doing my best to sound calm and reassuring. "I mean, yeah—today was fucking insane, and I didn't even know you existed until the goblins did that paternity test. Until a few hours ago, I always believed my dad was James Potter."
Serafall immediately made an amused snort, rolling her eyes slightly at my mention of James.
"James Potter? No, definitely not," she scoffed with casual disdain, though her tone stayed light-hearted. "To be honest, Harry, I barely knew Lily Evans at all—just for one night, actually. But it was definitely one hell of a memorable night. She was one of the sexiest women I'd ever met. A fiery, gorgeous redhead who was out looking to get revenge on James because she found out he'd cheated on her first." She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Honestly, I'm kind of surprised they ended up staying together after that whole mess. Then again, I suppose with the war against Voldemort raging on at the time, maybe it just felt safer and more practical for them to stay as a couple. Though considering they both ended up dead not too long afterward, maybe staying together wasn't actually such a great idea after all." She gave me a little shrug and a rueful half-smile.
I sighed quietly, leaning my head back against the couch cushions. "Honestly, I don't really know much about any of that," I admitted, rubbing my forehead tiredly. "Up until today, I had no idea the magical world even existed—let alone the fact that I'm apparently famous within it. Hell, until those goblins spoke to me, I didn't even realize I was actually part devil." I chuckled bitterly, still struggling to fully grasp how much my life had changed in such a short amount of time.
Serafall's mouth formed a small, surprised 'O' shape, and she blinked rapidly at me for a second. "Oh wow," she breathed out, shaking her head slightly as she absorbed my words. "Okay, Harry, wow—we really do have a lot we need to talk about, don't we? I mean, that's seriously huge stuff you've been dealing with today. You poor thing, you must be completely exhausted and overwhelmed!" She straightened abruptly, glancing toward the phone resting on the elegant glass coffee table in front of us. "We're definitely going to need coffee for this—lots and lots of coffee," she declared firmly. "I'll call down for room service immediately and order a couple of pots—probably three, actually. I get the feeling we're going to be up talking for quite a while tonight."
We took turns talking for the next couple of hours, settling into the comfortable, expensive couch in the luxurious penthouse suite. The coffee Serafall had ordered helped, and I sipped from my cup occasionally, keeping me alert and focused despite how exhausted I was.
I started by sharing the details of my life growing up with the Dursleys, how I spent most of my childhood suppressing my powers, constantly hiding the weird things I could do, always afraid they would realize I wasn't normal.
Serafall listened carefully, her expression gradually shifting from interested to distressed as I talked.
"They didn't physically abuse me or anything like that," I clarified quickly, noticing her darkening expression. "They just weren't particularly kind or welcoming. They were always distant and disapproving, so I grew up pretty isolated. At least until I turned 16, and then they started treating me like real family…"
Serafall clenched her fists. "Even if they didn't physically hurt you, emotional neglect is still terrible, Harry. I hate that you went through that. If I'd known sooner…" Her voice shook slightly.
I gave her a reassuring smile, reaching over to gently squeeze her hand. "Hey, it's alright. I survived it, didn't I? Besides, finding out I have a living real mom—is already making things a whole lot better."
Her tension faded a little at my words, and her expression softened again into a warm smile. "You're very sweet, Harry. But you deserve better. Our family, the Sitri Clan, is one of the most respected in the Underworld. My parents—your grandparents—are wonderful people, and they're going to absolutely adore you. My little sister, Sona—So-tan, as I like to call her—is going to freak out when she finds out she has a nephew!"
I laughed at the enthusiasm in her voice. "So, what exactly do we do? Devils, I mean."
Serafall settled back into the couch, tucking her legs beneath her comfortably. "Devil society is complicated right now, honestly. We're kind of divided—on one side, you have a lot of devils who are genuinely trying to improve, building happy lives with their peerages, being responsible and kind. On the other side, you have arrogant assholes who still want to treat people as servants or slaves. It's my job, as one of the Four Great Satans, to keep those idiots in check and make sure they don't start wars with other supernatural beings!"
I blinked, processing all that she'd just casually mentioned. "Wait, so you're basically stopping supernatural apocalypse scenarios on a regular basis? Mom, that's incredible. I'm seriously proud of you!"
The second I finished speaking, Serafall's eyes immediately watered, and she lunged at me again, pulling me into a tight, suffocating hug. Her soft chest pressed tightly against my own, making it hard to focus.
"Oh my gosh, Harry! No one has ever said that to me before!" she sobbed dramatically, clinging to me as though she feared letting go.
…It took me ten full minutes to gently pry her off of me and calm her down enough to continue our conversation.
After catching her breath, she wiped her eyes, sitting back with a shy laugh. "Sorry about that. I'm just so happy you're here!"
"It's okay," I chuckled. "But hold on—so you're saying my aunt—Sona—is just attending a regular human school in Japan? Not even a magical one or anything? What's the point? That sounds like a total waste of time, unless she's studying to become an engineer or scientist or something useful."
Serafall groaned slightly, rubbing her forehead with a weary sigh. "Sona's studying government and political science…"
I frowned in confusion. "But that's human government stuff, right? How exactly is that supposed to help her as a devil?"
She looked at me helplessly, shrugging. "I adore So-tan with all my heart, but she isn't always as practical or forward-thinking as she believes. Still, since we're essentially immortal beings, wasting a few decades playing schoolgirl isn't the end of the world."
My jaw dropped. "Wait—immortal? We're actually immortal?"
She nodded casually, sipping more coffee. "Well, technically yes. No devil has ever died of old age, at least not yet. We can still die from battle or violence, obviously, but age alone won't kill us."
I felt my pulse quicken, my thoughts instantly flicking back to Hermione. And maybe even Dudley? "Then… what about my friends? Or—friend, specifically. Like Hermione? She's not a devil, she's human."
Serafall's lips curled into a playful, knowing smile. "If you're so worried about your cute little girlfriend, then you might consider adding her to your peerage once you become a proper devil king. Her family already worships devils anyway—which is extremely rare nowadays, by the way—so she'd probably love it. But," she added more seriously, "it's a huge decision, Harry. Don't rush into it lightly. Once she joins your peerage, she's essentially yours forever!"
I absorbed that carefully. The whole peerage thing, becoming a devil king with a group of loyal servants was still incredibly strange to think about. It sounded like something out of a fantasy novel, yet apparently, it was my new reality.
"Speaking of peerages," Serafall continued thoughtfully, "Sona recruited a bunch of her human classmates into hers, and I'm honestly not sure how that'll pan out over the next few decades..."
I nodded slowly, letting her words sink in fully. Before I could reply, Serafall leaned closer, her blue eyes suddenly glowing intensely, focused solely on me.
"Before we worry about all that," she said determinedly, "we have to remove that pesky magical blocker that's restricting your powers!"
"Magical blocker? What exactly do you mean?"
She reached out and placed her soft hand gently on my chest. "Harry, you're my son! The child of Serafall Leviathan, one of the strongest devils in existence!" She declared proudly! "...Even if you've never trained your magical power, you should naturally be at least mid-class in strength. Yet right now, your magic is weaker than a low-class devil's. That means someone deliberately sealed your powers away."
"Someone actually sealed my magic? Who the hell would do something like that?"
Her eyes flashed protectively. "I don't know who, but I'm going to find out eventually. Right now, though, we need to remove the seal and unlock your true potential. Are you ready for that, Harry? It might feel… strange."
I swallowed nervously, but met her gaze steadily. "If there's something holding me back, then let's get rid of it."
– Serafall –
Serafall let out a sharp yelp, quickly reaching out and catching Harry as he slumped forward onto her chest the instant she broke the magic seal. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, feeling the sudden weight of his limp body press fully against her.
She hadn't anticipated Harry reacting so dramatically to the seal's removal, but perhaps she should have. He'd been carrying that suppression seal for so long, his body wasn't prepared for the sudden rush of unrestrained magic.
Holding him firmly against her, she gently eased them both back onto the plush cushions of the couch, cradling his head carefully against her chest as she leaned back. Her heartbeat quickened slightly as she looked down into her son's unconscious face, a surge of protective affection rising sharply in her chest.
Despite the surprise, the warmth and weight of him resting safely in her arms felt right somehow.
Serafall examined Harry carefully, studying his unconscious features as she felt his dormant powers steadily begin to grow. His aura expanded quickly but smoothly, the dense, potent energy of his Sitri heritage finally awakening from beneath the magic that had kept it sealed for so long.
His breathing gradually became deep and steady, and his face relaxed as he adjusted to the sensation.
As his devil heritage fully emerged, subtle physical changes began to appear in Harry's face and body. His already attractive features sharpened, cheekbones becoming more defined, jawline strengthening into a more pronounced, handsome shape. Serafall watched with pride as her son's physical form began to reflect the powerful bloodline of his mother and the Sitri clan.
"You're definitely my son," she murmured softly, gently brushing her fingertips over his cheek. "Going to break hearts everywhere, aren't you? Just like your mama. I almost feel bad for all the girls who are going to fall for you!"
She giggled softly to herself, feeling a sense of pride at her son's clear beauty and growing power.
There was something else within Harry, something that was separate from his devil heritage. Carefully probing his soul with her senses, she discovered the source and grimaced in mild irritation.
Her son had a Sacred Gear attached directly to his soul!
Damn!
Serafall clenched her jaw lightly, annoyance flickering briefly across her features. She had mixed feelings about Sacred Gears. Tools created and distributed by God himself, or rather by the system he had established. They tended to complicate the lives of their hosts dramatically, making them magnets for conflict and trouble, regardless of their intentions.
She tightened her embrace slightly, holding Harry protectively against her chest. The last thing she wanted for her son was to suffer because of some divine trinket she had no control over. Still, she had to admit, there was nothing inherently malicious about the Gear itself. It was simply a powerful, double-edged tool. Dangerous, certainly, but potentially useful if mastered.
Serafall released a resigned sigh, stroking Harry's soft black hair gently. For now, his soul and his newly awakened magic were still fragile. Activating or even identifying the Sacred Gear would have to wait until Harry had time to adjust and stabilize his growing powers.
She whispered softly to him, knowing he couldn't yet hear her. "Don't worry, Harry. I'll keep you safe. No matter what happens, your momma's here to make sure everything turns out alright!"
…
The next morning, Serafall sat comfortably across from Harry in an elegant, private booth within the hotel's lavish restaurant.
Watching her son quietly eat his breakfast, she finally broke the silence.
"So, Harry," she began gently, "I've been thinking. You've got some big choices to make now, huh? What would you like to do? You can stay in regular school like Sona is doing, you can come live with me in the Underworld, or you could even do something else entirely. You know I'd absolutely love having you home with me, right?" Her eyes practically glowed with excitement. "Oh, and you'd immediately become one of the permanent main characters on my TV show!"
Harry paused, lifting his gaze from the plate in front of him. His expression grew thoughtful, hesitant. "Actually, Mum, I've kind of been thinking about maybe going to Hogwarts, you know—the same school my mother Lily Evans attended. Hermione mentioned it yesterday. It seems really interesting, but..." he trailed off awkwardly, uncertainty obvious on his face. "I'm not sure they'd even let me in."
Serafall snorted softly, rolling her eyes playfully as she smiled reassuringly at her son. "Oh please, Harry, that's absolutely ridiculous. Devils are naturally much better at magic than humans are. Believe me—if you want to go to that school, you'll completely dominate every class you take. You're my son after all, which means magic practically runs through your veins. They'll be begging you to enroll."
Harry's brows furrowed slightly, skepticism clear on his handsome features. "But, how exactly would I even get accepted there? I never received one of those Hogwarts letters Hermione was talking about."
Serafall waved a hand dismissively, leaning back into her plush velvet seat with absolute confidence. "Don't you worry about any of that, sweetheart. I'll figure it all out for you. And trust me—if all else fails, we'll just throw money at the problem until it disappears. You'd be amazed at how often that strategy works in our favor."
Harry let out a small, bitter laugh, shaking his head slowly. "Honestly, Mum, that doesn't surprise me at all. That's pretty much exactly how corrupt elites get out of trouble up here on Earth."
She giggled mischievously, her eyes sparkling as she leaned in slightly. "Oh, Harry—they definitely learned that particular trick from us devils." Harry smiled softly. Then, his expression turned wary as Serafall's face abruptly grew more serious. She leaned forward again, her voice taking on a noticeably sharper edge. "Anyway, before we start sorting out your school plans, I really think we should make a quick visit to your relatives' place. You know, to properly 'thank' them for all these years they've spent raising you and taking such 'good' care of my precious boy."
Harry shifted nervously in his seat, his eyes widening slightly in alarm. "Um, Mum, is that really a good idea? I mean, Aunt Petunia is incredibly religious. Not only is she about to find out devils actually exist, but you're literally a female devil who had a child with her sister. That's probably going to completely break her brain."
For some inexplicable reason, Serafall found herself positively delighted at the thought, a wickedly excited smile curling slowly onto her lips. She reached over to affectionately pat Harry's hand, utterly unfazed by his concerns. "Harry," she purred with genuine excitement coloring her voice, "trust me! That's exactly why I'm looking forward to it!"
– Albus –
Albus Dumbledore stood quietly in front of the large, neatly maintained house, located on a pleasant suburban street. It was bigger and certainly more expensive-looking than the small, cramped home he'd left young Harry Potter at nearly two decades ago.
Discovering that the Dursleys had moved rather than been killed was humbling.
It took Amelia Bones mere minutes to locate their new residence using what Muggles referred to as a "phone book." Such a simple oversight had cost them Harry Potter for many years. Dumbledore didn't think it was foolish though that Muggles simply gave out their residency addresses to absolutely anyone.
Standing on the clean doorstep, Albus glanced thoughtfully around, stroking his beard with a slight frown. His magical senses were sharp, reaching out cautiously, and he quickly realized Harry was not currently inside.
Dumbledore adjusted his robes, exhaled slowly, and knocked firmly on the wooden door. After a short pause, a shrill, irritated female voice emerged from inside, rising in volume as footsteps rapidly approached.
"Do you have any bloody idea how early it—" The door swung abruptly open, and Petunia Dursley stopped cold, her narrow eyes widening in startled recognition and displeasure. Her hair was tied back severely, and she wore a prim nightgown covered by a hastily fastened robe. "Oh," she snapped sharply, her tone turning from irritated to scathing, "it's you! What do you want, old man? We don't want any of your kind's trouble here. We're a good, Christian, normal family without room for your magical freakishness!"
Dumbledore sighed internally, realizing instantly how complicated and unpleasant this interaction was going to be. Petunia Dursley had always harbored resentment towards him for not letting her also attend Hogwarts like her magical sister, but it had clearly hardened into something far more bitter.
He raised his hands placatingly, trying to project calm despite her immediate hostility. "Mrs. Dursley," he began gently, keeping his voice steady and patient, "I realize the hour is inconvenient, and I apologize for disturbing your morning. However, it is vital we discuss Harry. You see, there seems to have been a grave misunderstanding—"
Before he could finish his careful, diplomatic explanation, every hair on Albus Dumbledore's arms stood rigidly erect! He experienced an immediate, physical reaction as a pulse of overwhelming, monstrous magical energy suddenly materialized right behind him, washing over his skin in an intense wave.
He spun around sharply, fingers instinctively reaching toward the concealed pocket of his robe where his wand rested.
Standing there in broad daylight, on the neatly manicured Dursley lawn, was none other than Harry Potter himself—the very same young man whose face graced today's newspapers. And by newspapers, he meant all of the newspapers! Pretty much every single magical newspaper from London to China… All of them were about the return at long last of the boy-who-lived to the magical world.
But it was the young woman beside Harry who momentarily held Dumbledore frozen in place. She was beautiful, yes—maybe he'd care more about that if he was ever attracted to women—but he wasn't. What really drew his astonished gaze to her was she was the source of all of that magical power he could feel saturating the air all around them!
What manner of woman was this!? It was as if she was a walking leyline, a living magical hotspot!
For a moment, silence lingered awkwardly. Then Harry cleared his throat softly, breaking the stillness. "Hi, Aunt Petunia," he said, sounding noticeably uncomfortable as he glanced past Dumbledore towards his shocked aunt in the doorway. "I'm home. And uh—" his attention shifted, landing squarely on Dumbledore. "Who exactly are you, old man?"
Dumbledore quickly regained composure, smoothing the surprise from his face. Carefully and respectfully, he inclined his head to Harry in greeting "Ah, forgive my rudeness," he said calmly, projecting warmth and sincerity. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry, I'm so glad to see you alive and well after all this time, and I owe you a very large apology for everything that happened…"
Petunia gasped sharply from the doorway behind him. "Absolutely not!" she shrieked. "No nephew of mine is going to that freak school!"
The woman next to Harry smirked softly and leaned close to Harry, speaking loud enough for Dumbledore to clearly overhear.
"He's the Headmaster of Hogwarts, huh? The school you wanted to attend? That's perfect, Harry!"
Dumbledore blinked at those words, before smiling. Ah, maybe his journey today would turn out to be a good one!
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Petunia shrieked behind him again. "And who the hell is this floozy, Harry! And where is Dudley, wasn't he supposed to be with you? Neither of you came home last night! Did my precious boy get corrupted by some slut too!?"
Well—mostly good, he figured as everyone but Petunia seemed to sigh at the same time…
XXX