As soon as the door had closed, Aleistor had pressed his lips against Harry's, and his hands pulled on Harry's waist, leading him farther back into the room to yet another door. Harry went with it, having been through this routine far too many times. Soon enough the man broke away, opening the door and guiding him in.

"Sleep tight, darling flower."

"Wha.."

Faking confusion was all too easy. Sliding to the floor, Harry let himself go limp. Unconsciousness was fine, but the moment that was always the most difficult was letting himself go completely limp, and let them carry him off into the cage. It reminded him vividly of when Hagrid had to carry him out of the forest.

Fighting off the shudder than threatened to run through him, Harry persevered, listening as they debated taking his dress off. He could use glamours if they did, but it wasn't like he wanted to go through that hassle.

"Just leave her clothes on, you know how many layers women wear these days. Do you want to go through all that?"

"You're right."

They continued on, and Harry held back a sigh of relief.

He should have known that boy wouldn't have let it rest. That devil of a butler was lurking, probably waiting so that he could make a dramatic entrance and "heroically" save the damsel in distress. It was simply how demons were. They craved glory like a drug, much like their innate desires for pain and chaos.

Soon the blindfold was removed, and the Viscount started telling the enraptured audience about his jewel-like eyes. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what color he chose, someone still ended up comparing his eyes to jewels. It was driving him mad. Though it did bring him a higher bidding price, something Harry probably shouldn't be as proud as he was about.

A quick glance around the room showed him the butler wasn't part of the crowd, he would have towered over everyone. Most likely he was hiding in the rafters, waiting for Harry to start crying out for help. Closing his eyes, he began to concentrate inward, on his magic. Slowly he filtered it out, filling the room with it. One by one they all fell to the floor, asleep. That was part of the thing about being the Master of Death, he had a far wider range of magic, and much more instinctual command over it.

Next he burned the ropes off, careful to not get burned himself, and unlocked the cage, stepping gracefully out of it. He could feel the butler's eyes on him but ignored it, instead heading deeper into the house, finding the phone quickly, having done so many times before.

Making his way back to the party, he absentmindedly wondered when the demon was planning on confronting him. As if on cue, the man dropped down, landing silently in front of him. He supposed that was his answer then. Sighing, he looked up into the man's red eyes, annoyed with his shortness. Why on earth did all his friends have to be tall? At least Death was the same height as him. Actually, he probably shrunk Harry down just so he could have someone his size. The bastard.

Sighing once more, he focused his attention back on the dark figure in front of him, who was once more looking at him curiously.

"What is it my dear demon friend? Has your master charged you with the task of being the hero? Or were you simply curious? Either way, I'm leaving," and with that he began to move around the butler in his path. Just as he thought that the demon might actually let him go back to the party, an arm shot out, a gloved hand snatching at his wrist, and stopping him in his tracks, lest he end up with a dislocated shoulder.

Groaning, he turned back and once more faced the butler. Those rusty colored eyes were narrowed, and he seemed to deciding something. That wasn't a good sign. The next not-good sign came with his next words.

"You're coming with me,"

Oh, hell no. In that moment, Harry decided he'd rather deal with the shoulder than whatever the devil had planned. He was probably expecting it but that didn't matter to Harry at this point. Letting out a shrill whistle, he twisted his arm, using a bit of magic to help loosen the grip on it. Backup would be here in moments. Cursing his skirts for preventing him kicking the butler, he brought out one of his daggers only to find himself in the man's grip, what felt like a, wait was that a butter knife, at his throat.

At that moment the door at the end of the hallway burst open, revealing Ronald, who had been waiting on the roof in case he was needed. Next another door opened and Will stepped out, as composed as ever.

"Put the boy down, demon."

"And what happens if I don't?"

The sound of a death scythe cut through the air, before the spear head slammed into the wall next to the butler's head.

"You know what would be most effective, my dear William? If we simply called over, Grelle."

Harry could feel the demon's shudder at the mere mention of the redhead. Sadly though, he stood his ground. Of course it couldn't have been that easy.

So that's a shitty ending huh. Oh well, I needed to get something out before you all went mad. It isn't quite 1,000 but it's close enough. Sigh. Take it.