Author's notes: Bleah, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. Things at home went to hell in a hand basket repeatedly and splendidly. I'm back and writing, though I am behind on my Harry Potter knowledge, as I do not yet own a copy of Deathly Hallows. This means that I don't know how it ends, so no spoilers, 'cause I want to find out by reading it. I finally noticed I had something of a flame about the fact that this is a crossover. Yay, my first real flame, I'm a true fanfic writer! Personally, this one, A Nest of Devil's, and a new one titled Embryon Truths I've done because I wanted to see more obscure crossovers for Harry. I can find plenty of Naruto, Yu yu Hakusho, Sailor Moon, and Yugioh crossovers, but I wanted to explore ones that aren't as common, or deal with little known series. I'm glad that this one's popular, but I do it mainly for myself, to see where Harry will go within these parameters. Thanks for being willing to journey with me.

Kalliope the Mewthree: Authoress-Mama doesn't own Harry Potter or Devil May Cry, they belong to J.K. Rowling and Capcom respectively. Authoress-Mama is in no way, shape or form making money from this, so don't sue her, please.

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Life of Venegance

By BlackLadyCharon

Chapter 7: Dueling and Trolls

Minerva McGonnagal had seen many a student enter Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In her years as a teacher, she'd seen hopeless dunces, geniuses in varying courses, and one Dark Lord while he was still in his formative stages. The closest she could come to describing Harry Potter would be 'bloody deranged but brilliant'. She still hadn't figured out how he'd transfigured his desk into a miniature dragon of unknown type and species. Well, not unknown species, Potter had called it a Charmander. It defied all known types of wizarding transfiguration, and when asked, Potter would only say he'd been taught it by one of his Uncles. Much as she was dying to know the secret to it, Minerva couldn't quite work up the courage to brave that house again.

Potter's relatives were frightening enough when they were angry. She didn't want to know what they were like when they were trying to instruct someone.

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Harry had actually gotten to where he enjoyed some of his classes, though he had long since resigned himself to flunking Potions spectacularly. Even when he followed the instructions, his cauldron exploded. The only person who rivaled him in Potions disasters was Neville. Harry genuinely liked the other boy, though, and had made it his mission in life to teach him some self confidence. So far, the mission wasn't succeeding, but Harry lived by 'If at first you do not succeed, try bigger guns'. Something'd work sooner or later. Harry paused, fork in his mouth, as Malfoy came over to their table.

"Think you're a big man because you didn't get expelled, Potter? Kiss up to the Headmaster?" Malfoy was still fuming from the incident where they'd been learning broom riding, which had involved Malfoy planning to destroy Neville's Rememberall when the chunky boy had been relocated to the hospital wing with a broken wrist. Harry had made it clear that Malfoy wasn't doing that, and the argument had ended with Malfoy lodged in the top of a tree, and Harry somehow of the house Quidditch team. Harry raised an eyebrow idly at Malfoy, and Ron, as usual, lost his temper. Harry was working on teaching Ron about that when he wasn't trying to help Neville.

"You're just jealous that Ri's on the house team, Malfoy! Now Slytherin hasn't got a chance of winning the House Cup!" Malfoy snarled, which did not do his pallid features any good.

"Oh really? Why isn't Potter defending himself, if he's so great? Scared?" Harry allowed a smirk that he'd spent many hours in front of a mirror practicing. He'd based it off of Vergil's smirk, and it seemed to take Malfoy aback. After all, Gryffindors did not smirk like Slytherins. Yet another rule that Harry broke with impunity.

"I don't need to defend myself from a wyrm, Malfoy." Malfoy went red, even more unattractive then the snarl had been.

"Oh, that's it. I challenge you to a duel, Potter. Midnight in the trophy room." Harry blinked, caught off guard. Ron, however, smoothly took up the slack. Maybe Harry didn't give him enough credit for intelligence.

"Very well, I'm his Second. Name yours." Malfoy smirked.

"Crabbe." As the Slytherin walked away, Harry whispered frantically to Ron.

"what have you gotten me into?"

"Wizard's Duel. Not that it'll be much between you and Malfoy… er…" Clearly Ron was remembering Harry's precocious tendencies. And his spare weaponry. And the spells he'd learned from varying friends of his Uncles. Ron winced. "Yeah, maybe you'll end up frying Malfoy. Still, it's a duel of honor."

"You can't be serious." Harry looked over, almost groaning. Hermione. Great. Ron frowned at her.

"'Course we're serious. It's a matter of honor."

"It's after curfew! You'll get detention! Or expelled!" Harry frowned.

"Only if someone tattles." Hermione huffed and buried her nose in a book. Harry shrugged. He'd never understand girls or women. Never.

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"How did we end up with a parade behind us?"

Hermione and Neville had ended up joining them for their little late night tête-à-tête against Malfoy and his Slytherin meatbag. Hermione because she'd tried to scold them out of the fight, and Neville because he'd been locked out of the common room. The Fat Lady had gone adventuring, and Harry the only spell Harry knew that might get Hermione and Neville back into the common room would have destroyed the wall. So, they opted to follow them. Now they were all busy waiting for Malfoy to show up…

Creak went the door.

"Find them, my lovely, they're here somewhere."

Filch. Malfoy had sold them out. Honorless brat. Harry made one silent gesture, and the whole lot of them hauled ass out the door. Things were going dandy until they ran into an unforeseen obstacle.

Peeves.

"Students shouldn't be out of bed, that they shouldn't." Hermione looked frantic.

"Please Peeves, don't…" Harry swung his hands up, beginning the harsh, demonic phrase that would bind Peeves in place so that he could exorcise him. There was a fifty fifty chance he'd be fast enough. And…

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

He wasn't. More running. Harry mentally made plans to get rid of Peeves. Bloody, vicious plans. They spotted a door, but the Gods were not favoring them. It was locked. Ron rattled it futilely a time or two before Hermione shoved him aside.

"Alohamora!" The door clicked open, and they slid inside, pulling it closed behind them. Harry listened to Filch stomping down the corridor and ignored Hermione's scolding and Neville's frantic, frightened noises. Until something occurred to him. Something else was breathing in there. Slowly, making no sudden moves, Harry turned, looking up. Three doggie heads were staring at them, clearly processing that food had wandered in. All three doggie heads were connected to one doggie body. Oh shit.

"That's a Cerberus. The last one I saw was far more… Cool."

"No jokes, just RUN!"

"GRAWWRARRR!" Doggie roared about then, and Harry followed Ron's advice and ripped the door back open, yanked Neville and Hermione through while Ron got himself out, and slammed it back closed. They didn't bother to see if it stayed closed, hauling ass until they reached the portrait. Harry ignored Hermione's rant at Ron about how the Cerberus had been standing on a trap door, something was clearly being guarded there. Let her think he was stupid. The Fat Lady was back, and Harry muttered the password with something akin to relief. They got in, Hermione glaring at all three males as if they had tied her up and hauled her along for a virgin sacrifice. The perils of having testosterone instead of estrogen. Females almost always blamed the males first.

"I'm going to bed before any of you come up with any more ways to get us killed. Or worse, expelled." She flounced off, and Ron gave Harry a kind of funny look.

"She needs to sort out her priorities." Harry agreed. Dying was a lot worse then getting expelled. Okay, maybe not for a school junkie like Hermione, but he wasn't a school junkie.

Though that had been a fun little adventure.

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Hermione tried her level best to make the boy's feel guilty about the adventure. By Halloween, Neville was a nervous wreck about it. Ron finally had enough and muttered snidely.

"'S no wonder she doesn't have friends, what with her know it all attitude." About then, Harry spotted a flash of bushy brown hair and black robes fleeing around the corner.

"I think she heard you." Ron shrugged.

"Serves her right, always listening in on us." Guilt reared its head later, however. Ron looked like he wanted to hide in the table when Lavender Brown remarked with a pointed glare in his direction that Hermione had spent nearly the whole break period before dinner in the girl's bathroom bawling her eyes out. Harry felt guilt to. After all, in her own bizarre way, Hermione was trying to help them. About the Quirrel came screaming down the great hall, stopping in front of the High Table.

"Troll. In the dungeons. Thought you ought to know." This was said almost calmly before Quirrel hit the floor. Harry and Ron wasted no time slipping away in the panic that followed to search for Hermione. After all, she didn't know about the troll. They found the troll first, however. As it made up its tiny little mind to wander into a room, Ron bolted forward and locked the door. He started to run past Harry, and then stopped when Harry didn't move as well.

"Come on, Ri. We gotta go tell the teachers that the troll's trapped."

"Ron, that's…"

"AIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Hermione!"

"… the girl's bathroom." Harry finished as Ron barged back the way he'd come. Harry drew his own wand, wishing he hadn't left Cerberus behind in his trunk while he ate dinner. Ron'd said he was paranoid, but the one time he needed the frigging sanchaku, it was where he couldn't get to it. He followed Ron into the bathroom. Hermione was crouched in a corner, and Ron was frantically trying to distract the troll from her. It wasn't working to well. Harry winced, preparing for the inevitable pain, and threw himself on the trolls back. He tried not to draw comparisons between this foolhardy stunt and fighting a similar monster in one of his video games and failed miserably. He didn't even have a knife like the game hero did. So he settled for sticking his wand up the troll's port nostril.

Naturally, big and ugly didn't like this and thrashed about. Ron finally had a brilliant idea.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The troll's club wafted right out of its hands, and as it looked up in wondering incomprehension as to why the Troll God had seen fit to suddenly make its weapon fly, it smacked back down in its face. The troll crashed down, out cold, and Harry pulled his wand out of its nose, wrinkling his face as McGonnagal, Snape, and Quirrel showed up.

"What is going on here?" Harry and Ron both squared their shoulders, manfully preparing for their inevitable detentions and expulsions for this monumental screw up. They opened their mouths.

"It was my fault, Professors. I thought I could handle the troll, I've read about them. But I got in over my head. If Ron and Harry hadn't come in, I'd be dead by now. They didn't have time to get adults, so Harry distracted the troll and Ron knocked it out with its own club." Both Harry and Ron stared at Hermione in shock, mouths still hanging open. She'd lied. Hermione, Miss By The Book, had lied. To save their miserable asses. McGonnagal looked flustered, but accepted the story at face value.

"Very well. I hope you know how lucky you are, Mister Potter, Mister Weasley. Not many first years can tackle a fully grown mountain troll and live to tell about it. Five points will be taken away from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for your foolishness. Ten points for each of you will be awarded to Gryffindor Mister Potter, Mister Weasley." McGonnagal paused.

"For sheer, dumb luck." As the teacher's left, Harry and Ron looked over at Hermione. She just smiled at them, and they found themselves smiling back.

Damn it, they were friends now.

-End Chap 7-

-Preview 1 Chap 8: Christmas!-

"So, you're Mum and Dad are gone for the Holiday?"

"Yeah."

"Wanna come stay at my place?"

"Sure Ri!"

-End Preview 1-

-Preview 2 Chap 8: Christmas!-

"Erm, you are aware you're Uncle's are singing to your little cousin about Santa killing people?"

"Yeah, they used to do it with me too. Breeds a cheerful irreverence for the season's sap."

"We three Son's of Sparda are, going to blow up the neighboring bar…"

"… That's a new one. The eggnog must've gone bad."

-End Preview 2-

Well, here's the latest chap. I've skipped a few events that I may go back and edit in later when I'm not in dull agony from a busted foot. You also get two previews of the next chap1 Christmas at the Spardas, pity Ron! Now to work on chap 4 of A Nest of Devil's. I'm fairly sure I've misspelled a few names and spells, but I'm not in the mood to deal with my dead adwatch to check them tonight. As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be cherished as proof that I can write something that jerks will hate.