Chapter 20 – Immemorial
(Confession and Penance Arc, Part Seven of Seven)
When he woke up, it was in a world of white. His first thought was that he'd failed. His second was that if he had, he wouldn't have been able to think either of these things.
Harry sat up slowly. It was weird to feel a solid surface where none supposedly existed, at least according to all of his other senses. He stood and examined himself. He was in his younger body again, which was concerning since he should have been approaching forty last he remembered. Did the ritual somehow fail and cause Time to reset anyway? If so, where was he now? Usually he'd wake up on his eighteenth birthday, but this wasn't the Burrow.
He returned to his self-examination. Other than having de-aged once more, his hair was back to being short, the skin on his forehead felt a bit tight from the Horcrux scar that used to sit there, and he had none of his possessions with him. If today truly was the day of his eighteenth birthday, he would have found all three of the Deathly Hallows beside him when he woke, as he did every year. He also wasn't wearing anything at all. While this was mildly concerning for a different reason, as far as he could tell, nobody else was around. Much more worrisome was the fact that he couldn't sense any magic in the surroundings. Minor panic set in as he frantically drew on his reserves. It abated when the familiar rush of energy answered his call.
Only, it was more of a flood. It threatened to overflow at any moment. It was more than Harry knew what to do with, more than he felt safe channeling. It was like being on the world's biggest sugar high while restrained in an asylum straitjacket and stuck to the ground with industrial strength adhesives. His body refused to obey. His eyes looked around for help or inspiration and found none in the featureless void. Honestly, he was a little tired of looking at white.
The world gained color. Lots of it. Every color he could remember ever seeing in every hue imaginable and several shades he had no recollection of was splashed haphazardly across the backdrop that was the surrounding environment, infinitely far away yet seeming close enough for him to reach out and smear the different colors together. He almost wished it were white again… but he had learned his lesson. No more random thoughts while supercharged with magical energy.
His mind cleared, and his focus sharpened to a point. He needed to unload the energy coursing through him before it damaged his core. The easiest way to do so was to use it somehow, since expelling it all at once was even more likely to cause irreparable damage. Conjuration was one of the most energy-intensive types of magic. Without wasting another moment, Harry conjured a copy of his old mansion in Scotland, complete with the land it stood on and the furniture within.
It wasn't enough. Not even close.
He vanished it and conjured a copy of Hogwarts Castle, along with its surrounding grounds. He conjured the Quidditch pitch with its stands and hoops, the Black Lake with the various rocks at the bottom, and the Forbidden Forest with every single tree he could recall. He even conjured the railroad tracks and a copy of the Hogwarts Express, complete with all of its compartments and cars. When he was finished, Harry stood in front of the gates to the castle, which opened its doors to reveal the Great Hall with the banners of the four Houses and the tables prepped as if accepting the next class that would never come.
It still wasn't enough.
He vanished it all and concentrated on his accumulated knowledge of geography. Centuries stuck in an endless time loop left him with plenty of time to study every country in existence, and even some that had been lost to the pages of history. He could name them, their capitals, their most popular tourist and archaeological destinations, and point all of these things out on a map with a margin of error within a couple of kilometers. With that knowledge, he conjured a copy of the entire Planet Earth, down to the tiniest detail his hyper-focused mind could specify. He lost consciousness before he finished the task.
Harry blinked himself awake again. The world was white once more. It took him several seconds to remember what he had been doing. When he did, he resisted the violent urge to smack his head into a wall, not that there seemed to be one conveniently nearby. Who the heck tried to conjure a planet? He did, apparently. Blaming it all on the power quite literally going to his head, he idly realized he could think other things again. Truly, the potential of magic was not to be underestimated. Now if only he'd thought of a concentration-enhancing spell that potent back when he was getting all his Masteries…
"If you're done messin' around with that magic, you might wanna give it back. I'm pretty sure its owner won't appreciate you using it."
He jumped and spun around, only to see… himself? It was like staring into a mirror, except his mirror image moved independently of him and was a three-dimensional human being instead of… an image. He stared uncomprehendingly. His copy waved at him with a cheeky smile.
"Yes, hi. Hello. I'm you. Get over it," the other Harry said. Pause. "Actually, wait. Don't. It's funnier, and I'm not going to last very long. Better to die with a smile and all that."
The real Harry could only continue to stare, dumbfounded.
"Long story short, congratulations! It worked. You're free! Unfortunately, you clearly don't remember what you're here for. I'd wager you don't remember anything of the last day."
The last day. Centuries of life had conditioned Harry to not trust very easily, but it wasn't like he had other options here. Ophis warned him many things would come together on the last day, and plans would likely need to be adjusted on the fly.
"Who are you and why do you look like me?"
"Your good buddy Infinity made me from a fragment of your soul when it became clear you wouldn't survive the encounter with the End. I'm here to help you. You're welcome."
"I met the End?"
"Hell yeah you did! Sure, your soul was basically destroyed, but hey. Now you can say you threw down with the End and lived to tell the tale! Now THAT is something that'll impress the ladies for sure."
At his copy's claim of his soul being destroyed, Harry instinctually clutched at his chest.
"Oh, don't worry about the whole 'destroyed soul' part. Infinity did you a solid and put you back together."
"Ophis… put my soul back together?"
"And made me to help you along. You owe that man a drink. Err. Woman? Thing? Whatever."
His other self smirked.
"Anyway, you about ready to get going? There's work to be done, and you're the one who needs to do it. Downside of being the only one around."
"Did the world end?" Harry asked. "I thought Ophis would survive too."
"Uhh, yes and no. To the world-ending thing. The world's still around. This is it."
"…This?"
"Yeah. You remember the plan? Well, it worked. You are now at the infinitesimally small moment of time in between the End breaking the seal and the world ending. Move back a step, and you're trapped again. Move forward and everything goes poof."
"So time is stopped?"
"Give the man a medal! A silver one."
Harry resisted the urge to deck himself.
"Y'see, when you broke the spell over Time, you didn't just break the spell. You broke Time too. You uh… punted it from the fabric of existence. Time's gone."
And just like that, his thoughts were derailed again. What the heck did that even mean? Time was gone? How does one account for Time being gone?
"Ol' hamster's running itself ragged on the wheel, I see. Never fear, that's why I'm here!" his copy declared theatrically. "You're basically the be all, end all here. Take control of whoever's magic you want. I'd suggest Genesis again. If you're gonna remake a concept, best start with the thing made to make other things, right?"
"You want me… to remake Time?"
"No, I want you make me a bunny rabbit. While you're at it, a sandwich might be nice."
"Was I… always like you?"
"What do you think? We're part of the same soul."
Harry sank into introspection. Maybe he had been suppressing his emotions too much during his time as Voldemort? There wasn't much time for joking around when you were busy trying to conquer the world.
"Nah, I'm pulling your leg. Infinity made me, remember? Gotcha!"
"Ophis… pranked me?" Rather than be angry, he felt immensely proud of the other being.
"Yep! Looks like you rubbed off on him-her-it! But let's be real for a moment here. You used to be a major pussy. Let Moldy and Dorky walk all over you. You got better in the power department, but seriously. Infinite time. Literally all the time you could ever want. And your first instinct is to use it to study?"
Harry rubbed at the back of his head sheepishly.
"It seemed like a good idea?"
"You could have ruled the world!"
"Did. Got boring."
"Rule it better! Rule it funner! You're the one in charge! That's the whole point!"
His copy palmed his face and tilted his head backwards as if he was in a Shakespearian play.
"Oh, woe is me, to be born from such mediocrity."
"…If I'm basically God here, does that mean I can get rid of you?"
"Do it, I dare you. I'll even smile as you do. See?"
Harry's hand twitched. Both of them knew he couldn't do that. His annoying doppelganger was his only source of information here. He was in the dark. Then he had a stroke of brilliance, at least in his opinion.
"I order you to be serious."
"Sirius is our godfather. I'd say we're Harry, but at the moment I don't want to consider the implications of that. Pick a new name?"
His eye twitched this time. He needed command magic. If this was his soul, the Unforgivables would be ineffective. Conceptual magic of Command, maybe? He scoured the world around him, reaching out to the different magic he could sense. Command, command… no dice. Obedience? Surely someone or something had to have a concept he could use. Destruction, Sin, Wrath, Genesis, Void, Apocalypse, Soul, Oath… Blue? Who the heck mastered a color? His thoughts were interrupted by his copy.
"See? This is what I mean. All that studying and still, you forget the most basic of things."
Harry looked up in confusion.
"Look, man. Do us both a favor and level with me here. Who the fuck are you?"
His copy's vulgarity was offset by the complete seriousness of his tone. Harry blinked a couple of times and carefully considered the question. Obviously, the stock answer wasn't the right one, but it was as good a place as any to start.
"I'm Harry Potter," he answered.
"Yes, yes. Congratulations. You remember your name. I know you hate those titles, but dig deep for me."
"I'm… the Master of Death."
"Aaand?"
"Lord Voldemort."
"You held that title maybe twice. Go back to the other one."
When he saw Harry's blank stare, his copy buried his face in his hands.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake… Master of Death, Master of Charms, Master of Defense, Master of Potions. You've got so many Masteries you could qualify for Master of Magic if you tried! Granted, you'd have to get all your memories back, but still. Are you seeing a pattern here, or is it just me?"
Harry thought back on his copy's previous sentences. A light bulb went off in his head. Soon, he smacked his own face with his palm. Whatever happened on the last day must have really thrown him if he forgot something that basic. The Deathly Hallows would never let him live it down. His copy patted his shoulder comfortingly.
"Don't worry, buddy. Just this once, I'll forgive you. The End of Time does that to people."
He looked his copy in the eye.
"Take this seriously." Harry's magic laced his voice.
His copy smirked. Blazing green eyes met even brighter green.
"It's about damn time, Master. Now, let's make us a concept."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
As it turned out, Time hadn't actually been, as his copy had so elegantly put it, "punted from the fabric of existence" after all. Good thing, too. He was only human, and his magical core had a hard upper limit on the amount of magic it could channel at once. Creating a concept probably took a lot more than creating Earth. No, Time was still there. It had just been shattered into itty-bitty pieces. Around two million pieces, to be exact. One fragment for every witch or wizard's core trapped in the spell. To get it working again, Harry needed to bond all their cores to a single thing and put the concept back together, metaphorically speaking. Whatever it was bonded to would need to be able to withstand the burden. Naturally, his first choice was himself. Or more accurately, he chose his own core.
Surprisingly, his copy wholeheartedly agreed with him. Then he revealed he was being sarcastic. He wasn't some sort of modern-day Messiah. His core wasn't made to support other cores. So, Harry had taken control of Genesis once more and made something that could. The leftover relic from that stage of the plan was hanging around Harry's neck. It no longer contained the concept of Time, but it retained some powers from when it had. Entities were only supposed to be able to use one concept at a time, so it wasn't like Harry would have been able to fully utilize Time anyway.
He watched his significant other sleep peacefully. He had really gone the extra mile this time in tiring her out. Partly because he loved her, partly for his own pleasure, but mostly because if Serafall had the strength and courage to face her forgotten memories, then he sure as Hell had no excuse not to do the same. Granted, he had at least many, many times the amount of memories Obliviated from his mind that she did, but it wasn't like he needed all of them. Right now, he just needed more information on his own capabilities.
His performance against the homunculus of Samael and Yamata no Orochi had revealed clear deterioration in his aptitude for combat. He supposed it was inevitable when he didn't have anyone around to really practice against on a regular basis, since Sirzechs and the leaders of the Three Factions either didn't have free time, weren't willing, or weren't suitable opponents. With any luck, that would change with the addition of Serafall, Kuroka, and hopefully two or three more to his Peerage in the coming weeks. He had at least two people in mind already and he was sure he would find someone else suitable in Europe.
The Resurrection Stone flashed a couple of times. Harry nodded, indicating he was ready for the next memory. He immediately lost track of the real world.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Harry stood in the middle of a forest. Malfoy was on his shoulder. He wore heavy black robes despite the relatively hot weather, the ends of his Cloak of Invisibility billowing outwards behind him as it sat on his shoulders. His gloved left hand held the Elder Wand, while the ring holding the Resurrection Stone was on a finger of his right. He waited patiently for the entity he had summoned to answer his call.
"So you finally show yourself to me, 'Master of Death'."
"Hades. I come in peace to make a request of you."
The skeleton in priest's clothing shifted its stance. Pinpricks of light in its skull flashed red as it raised its staff to point at the man standing a few meters away.
"The only request I will grant is your destruction. Unless you have come to ask that of me, leave. A thief like you deserves nothing more."
"Your animosity is misplaced, but understandable."
Harry tossed the Elder Wand to the ground in front of Hades. The Resurrection Stone followed, detached from the ring. The Cloak of Invisibility flew off his shoulders and folded itself neatly into a square next to the other two items reluctantly.
"…What is the meaning of this?"
"You want Death so much? Take it."
The god eyed the three Deathly Hallows but made no move to bend over and pick them up.
"What's the matter, Hades? This is what you came for, right?"
"You know as well as I do the conditions of that contract."
"You're a god. You'll reform eventually. And when you do, all of Death will finally be yours."
Still, the god didn't move. His staff remained pointed at the human man standing across from him, his eyes stayed red, and the river of souls that accompanied him everywhere kept flowing silently in the background. It was several seconds before he spoke.
"No sane person would ever give up this much power."
"I have never claimed sanity. With my past actions, would you believe me to be sane? Why don't you ask Thanatos and Pluto what they think of my mental state? Or Orcus?"
At Harry's reminder of what had happened when Hades sent his strongest Grim Reapers against him, the god's eyes dimmed. They had returned under the thrall of the Master of Death, delivering a message that he did not wish to come into conflict with him. Both had then fallen into a coma for a full year. When Pluto, the first to awaken, was asked what their encounter had been like, the Grim Reaper had shuddered and reported that the Master of Death was beyond their capabilities, and wielded many powers beyond that of Death itself. He grudgingly admitted that he was unsure if Hades himself would have been able to win, which from someone as loyal as Pluto meant that the god would likely have perished.
Orcus, his interest piqued, had ventured out on his own to meet the Master of Death and returned in high spirits. When questioned, he happily stated that the other entity was very much a funny person to be around, shocking both Thanatos and Pluto. The leader of the conservative faction of Grim Reapers then revealed a gift he had received, a magical scythe that cut an opponent's soul that was somehow even more effective than the scythes used by the other Reapers. According to him, the scythe could only be used by him and his progeny, a fact that was extensively tested and proven true. That didn't stop Hades from reverse-engineering it and giving copies to all of his Reapers to use. Thanatos and Pluto both refused, the former unwilling use any part of a gift against its original owner and the latter out of pride in his current weapon given to him by his master.
Hades had been frustrated with his subordinates' stubbornness. Morals and pride had no place in wars of power. Nonetheless, he'd allowed their decisions. Both of them were still stronger than the rest of the Grim Reapers by a wide margin, and it wasn't as if there were really any threats to his territory if the Master of Death proved to be as docile as he appeared. The gift went a long way to assuring him, though he still plotted to claim full ownership over the concept in the future. He would search first for non-violent measures.
"Destroy them," the god suggested.
"You think I haven't tried? Shiva would sooner recruit me to his cause or claim the power for himself, perhaps by forcing a god under his employ to take possession of it. Nothing short of something like Destruction will succeed."
"He is not the only one to wield Destruction."
Harry raised an eyebrow as Hades drew a book from within the folds of his own robes. He recognized it as a copy of the Ars Goetia. The grimoire floated across the distance separating the two and stopped in front of the wizard.
"Demons are extinct. Their magic with them," he said simply.
"You are an intelligent man who has other methods available to him. Use them."
"It would be so much easier if you just accepted the Deathly Hallows."
"I am in no mood to accept Death."
The river of souls began flowing faster.
"I wish you the best of luck, fake."
The God of the Realm of the Dead vanished, the souls with him. Harry took no offense at his parting comment. He knew the deity was a pragmatic individual. He was only stating fact. Master of Death was just a title, conferred to him because he had happened to unite three artifacts forged by brothers who had no idea what they were truly doing. His acceptance of Death was by chance as well. One by one, the Deathly Hallows floated back to him. The cloak seemed to chide him for trying to give it away. He chuckled lowly.
"I guess that means you're stuck with me for a bit longer."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"How many of these memories do I even have?" Harry wondered aloud. He quickly snapped his mouth shut and looked down at the woman snoozing on his chest. To his relief, she showed no signs of stirring. He stroked her hair, causing her to smile in her sleep.
The Resurrection Stone flashed a few times. Really? That was it?
Several flashes. Oh, plenty of other memories, apparently. But, none as important as those first few. Well, they were important enough for him to preserve, so there was that, but he had been very clear in his instructions earlier. For now, he was going through only the most immediately-useful memories stored in the Pensieve on Serafall's hand. The memory of the creation of his Time-Turner reminded him of the rest of its abilities, as well as a few of his own he had sealed away within it. The memory of his meeting with Hades reminded him of his relationship with the Grim Reapers. Perhaps it was time to arrange for another meeting? He also needed to keep the Hexennacht Order in mind. Augusta and the Sorting Hat were waiting for him. He added Greece to his mental list of destinations in Europe. Also on the list was wherever the gateway to Asgard was, Rome for the Vatican, and Romania, among other places.
Lord Orion's meeting with Diehauser Belial came to mind. What was he going to do with a normal King Piece? No matter how friendly he was with the Four Great Satans, the King Pieces had been retired from service for very good reasons. He couldn't just walk up to Ajuka and ask him to modify it into another Tyrant King. Harry could do it himself, given enough time, but time was short these days. Without the adjustments to the Piece, it served as little more than a nice power boost. Maybe an emergency battery of magical energy. Useful, to be sure, but not as useful as a potential King to lead his Peerage when he wasn't there. He would have liked to give it to Serafall.
Harry yawned. He was getting a little sleepy. His wife's cuddling wasn't making it any easier to stay awake. He had enough concentration for maybe one more memory. He told his sentient stone to show him the most important memory he had stored away. The stone took his statement a different way.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Always, the world reset before he could ask. Always, they moved too slow. Always, he was too late. Not anymore. This time was different. This time, he decided to take a chance. He would marry Serafall Leviathan as if his life depended on it. For all he knew, this would be his last chance to do so. The next cycle was when the plan would be set in motion.
And so, Harry Potter mustered all of his confidence from hundreds upon hundreds of years of dating and approached the Devil sitting at the bar where he knew she'd be. After all, today was the day they had met for the first time every single time before. This was an otherwise unremarkable cycle. As such, everything would play out exactly the way it always did. Unless he did something.
"Hi there. You must be the Satan of Foreign Affairs."
Serafall Leviathan perked up and turned to look at the person who had addressed her.
"Mm? Yep. That's me!"
"Nice to meet you. I'm Harry Potter."
She reacted positively to his easygoing attitude, just like he knew she would. She was always the bubbly sort.
"Nice to meet you, too! I'm Serafall!"
"Just Serafall? That… doesn't sound English."
She paused, her eyes darting back and forth nervously. Harry didn't need to read her soul to know she wasn't used to her status as a Satan yet. In fact, she utterly despised her duties with a passion and took every opportunity available to have fun on the job. To her dismay, her efforts had actually backfired when her diplomatic efforts turned out to be wildly successful. Her television show was a hit, causing her popularity to skyrocket. Her penchant for staying in-costume off the set became her trademark. It was made worse because she vastly preferred the airy, casual magical girl outfit to her formal diplomat's robes anyway.
Her permanent appointment as Satan of Foreign Affairs was met with much pouting and hissing on her part, which only further endeared her to the people she dealt with. After decades working in the office, she finally accepted the inevitable and, like the overly optimistic individual she was, decided to make the best of it. She livened any meeting she was participated in. Tensions automatically lowered the moment she entered the conversation. Just her name, either Serafall or Levia-tan, was enough to brighten the mood. But, she'd never really gotten used to her actual title.
"Uhh. My parents had a weird naming sense?"
Harry held back a laugh.
"Fair enough," he said. He pretended not to notice the way she visibly sagged with relief. "So what's with the outfit?"
His question made her perk back up instantly. Truth be told, Harry found it irresistibly cute and had to actively fight the urge to pet her head like a puppy. She was at the perfect height for it too, since he was standing…
"I'm a magical girl!"
"Really? I thought I recognized it. Aren't you Miracle Levia-tan?"
She gasped.
"You watch my show! That's it, you're hired! I choose you! I want you to be my liaison!"
"I'm… not sure the ICW will appreciate you unilaterally deciding my appointment, but-"
"Don't care! I choose you, Harry! In fact, let's make it official, right now!"
This was it. He always chickened out before. This time would be different.
"Official? How?"
"Easy! You know how Devils work, right? Make a deal with me!"
"A deal? You mean a contract?"
She nodded enthusiastically and dragged him off. He obediently followed along behind her. Their rapid footsteps eventually took them upstairs to her room in the Leaky Cauldron. He only knew it was such because he'd been invited here several times, but this would be his first time inside. She threw open the door and pushed him inside. He fell down and found himself in a plush bedroom that definitely didn't belong in a pub-slash-inn. The decorations were lavish, and he saw a four-poster bed in front of him.
"Err."
"You're nothing like the rest of those stuffy old bats!" Serafall chirped as she skipped in behind him.
The door shut on its own to reveal an ornate wooden carving of the Leviathan crest. Hearts were carved all around the edges. He looked around the room some more. The wallpaper was pink and blue, and Miracle Levia-tan posters were plastered all over the place. Strangely enough, most of them didn't feature the titular star of the show, instead depicting the various co-stars and supporting cast members. He smirked to himself. Only Serafall.
"Am I in Hell?" he asked, despite knowing the answer. He might not have been inside her room in the Leaky Cauldron before, but that didn't mean he had never been inside her personal bedroom. "Because I kind of expected more fire and brimstone."
The magical girl gasped louder.
"YOU HAVE A SENSE OF HUMOR!"
She practically teleported around the room, snatching paper, ballpoint pen, and her wax seal, fumbling with it a bit to get it to heat up as she wrote. When it was ready, she smacked it on the square piece of parchment against the nearest wall. It was a good thing everything in her mansion was magically-reinforced.
"DO IT! SIGN IT NOW!" she demanded, thrusting the piece of paper under his nose.
Harry read it aloud with growing amusement.
"I, Harry Potter, agree to be the liaison between the Devils and wizardkind."
That was it. She had written the same sentence three times; the first in regular script, the second in neat, flowing cursive, and the last in all capital letters.
"…Oh wait. On pain of death. Ouch. You couldn't have made the penalty a bit lighter?"
"Dooo iiit," she begged. "If I have to talk to another stuck-up, arrogant, holier-than-thou, arrogant, egotistical, conceited, and arrogant eighty-year-old bag of dust again, I swear I'm going to kill someone. Probably the arrogant windbag." She paused. "Oooh, I wish I could kill those arrogant bastards…" She caught herself with a quiet "Eep," and tried to smile innocently. "Please, sign? I'm really begging you here. Don't make wizards the first black mark on my perfect diplomatic record…"
Harry lost the battle against his laughter. She pouted at him and slapped his arm. She panicked when she realized she had forgotten to hold back her Satan strength, but she was surprised when her target didn't budge an inch. In truth, dealing with Serafall for several years had conditioned Harry to reinforce his body just in case of that very thing happening.
"Ahh… I love you, Sera."
"Huh?"
He froze and cursed inwardly.
"Uhh… Nothing. Anyway, you want me to sign the contract, right? Well, from what I know, contracts are two-way. What do I get?" The otherwise greedy undertone to his question was offset by his easy smile. Serafall let a decidedly more seductive smile play along her own lips in response.
"Well…" she began, drawing it out, "if you like me that much, we could go on a date?"
More inward cursing. If this cost him his chance, he was going to take acting classes.
"You read my mind, Ms. Levia-tan. I've never been in the Underworld before, but I seem to recall that there was a theme park dedicated to you?"
She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
"It's a promise! Now sign, buster!"
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"NII-SAN! NII-SAN! OPEN UP! HARRY POTTER, OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR!"
Serafall groaned in her sleep.
"Five more minutes, So-tan…"
She curled back up against Harry's side from where she'd rolled off of him at some point in the middle of the night. The man she was pressed against groaned as well.
"So-tan, it's too early. Go back to sleep…"
A silencing charm restored the blissful state of quiet. His wife nuzzled against him appreciatively. He used more magic to pull the covers back over them both from where they'd been kicked to the bottom of the bed as usual and promptly went back to sleep. Or at least, he tried to. His wife kept nuzzling against him. Thinking she was just being her usual overly affectionate self in the mornings, Harry gave her the customary head pat to calm her down. His hand brushed across two twitching, pointed ears. Some Pureblood Devils had pointed ears. As far as he knew, none of them were furry.
The Wizard opened his eyes and looked to his left. Yep, there was Serafall. Cute, beautiful, and sexy all at the same time. Amazing what nudity could achieve in combination with the female form. So if she was there, then who was on his right? He saw a pair of black cat ears in his peripheral vision.
"Kuroka, get out of our bed and put some clothes on."
"Nuh uh! Not this time! You proposed to me! You made me yours! So make me yours entirely!"
Serafall was magically awake in no time.
"Really?! Harry-kun, did you really marry her too? Wait… did you marry her first? Nooooo! I knew I should have been more persistent all those years ago!"
"I didn't propose to her, Sera."
"Did too! You did it all fancy-like with the Piece!"
Serafall gasped theatrically.
"You did that with another woman? How could you! I thought what we had was special!"
Harry looked at her flatly.
"Teehee?" she tried. He bopped her without remorse, ignoring her whiny pout.
"Kuroka, you're really making me regret my life choices here."
"All I want you to do is make me yours!" the Nekoshou protested.
"I'm not sure I want any part of you in me anymore."
"That's okay! I'm not really into that either! Besides, you can't give me kittens that way!"
His flat look became flatter. Then he realized there was another extra occupant on the bed. Once again, Koneko had wedged herself in between Harry and Serafall in her kitten form.
"Koneko?" He asked. Kuroka looked over him.
"Shirone?"
"'Shirone'?" Harry echoed Kuroka's question.
The medium-sized white cat yawned and transformed into the pajama-clad form of Shirone, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. She regarded the two of them with her trademark judgmental deadpan. Harry didn't like being the subject of her gaze.
"Shiro, please don't look at me like that."
She tilted her head to the side. Then, she pointed at both Harry and Kuroka in turn.
"Perverts."
"Ugh!"
Harry made to clutch at his chest, but found both his arms pinned by different women. Both refused to let go, with Serafall innocently pinning it between her breasts as she cuddled with him and Kuroka purposefully directing his hand between her legs as she rubbed herself along his arm. Shirone's deadpanning intensified. Kuroka being Kuroka decided to throw gasoline on the fire.
"Nyahaha, Shirone's just jealous 'cause she wants your kittens, too!" she crowed.
Harry channeled his inner Koneko and deadpanned as hard as he possibly could at the dark-haired Nekoshou. Of course, his pathetic attempt at copying the master of deadpan fell drastically short of the real thing, which Kuroka was also resistant to, so it had little to no effect. He sighed.
"Not helping, Kuroka."
"Oh really?" she asked. "Shirone, what do you think?"
He looked back at the other Nekoshou and did a double take. The white-haired woman had stripped herself without him noticing, her pajamas nowhere to be seen. His brain short-circuited when she draped herself across his front. He still wasn't wearing anything from the previous night's activities. Serafall's eyes lit up like it was Christmas.
"…Mine."
"See?"
"Shiro?!"
Harry's panicked cries went ignored by everyone. Shirone poked his cheek to get his attention. When he looked down at her, his attempt to turn his head away was stopped by both of her hands on his head. His protests died in his throat as he saw her serious look.
"Shirone."
"Shiro…ne?" He thought about it for a moment. "Like your sister?"
She nodded in satisfaction and let him go. She then rested her head on his chest and began purring lowly. The vibrations traveled down her body and triggered a reaction in the body of the man she was lying on.
"Alright! Fourso- Grk!"
"Four- Mmph!"
Kuroka was silenced by her sister's lightning-fast chop to her throat. She coughed as she tried to clear her airway. With both of his arms bound, Harry was forced to twist his head to cover his wife's mouth with his own to keep her from shouting the word. When he pulled away to take a breath, she was giggling happily. He met eyes with Shirone worriedly. To his immense relief, the white-haired Nekoshou seemed much more inclined to simply enjoy lying on top of him.
Alas, Harry and Shirone's efforts were for naught, as there were simply one too many amorous women with perverted tendencies living in the estate. The teasing voice of the leader of the Japanese Youkai interrupted their brief respite, making them all freeze.
"Ara. Harry-san, we did not expect you to take our suggestions so seriously. Judging from your positions, did Kuroka finally open your mind to her idea of a foursome last night?"
The Wizard was torn. Should he look? His moral compass was spinning in every direction. Normally, the clear answer would be a firm "no" since his wife was here. But when said wife actively encouraged such an action, did that mean it was wrong to disobey her wishes? This was far from the first time Yasaka had arrived unannounced. She had never worn a stitch of clothing any of the other times and he doubted this would be the exception, even if it was the day after the invasion. Was it disrespectful not to look when the subject openly declared their intent and offered you the opportunity?
"…Pervert fox."
"Why hello there, Shirone. Congratulations on consummating your bond. Should we inform Magari-dono, or will you?"
Harry groaned when Shirone blushed and just buried her head into his chest. Kuroka laughed at the whole situation openly, joined by Serafall's own giggles. He gave in when even Shirone let out a heavy sigh and smiled in resignation. His own, slightly nervous laughter joined the raucous chorus in the room. He was using every ounce of his will not to react to the three women pressed against him. Failing that, he was focusing on the feeling of his wife against him and pointedly ignoring the way Kuroka had resumed her attempts to use his arm as a masturbation aid.
That was when the door was iced over and shattered. Standing in the doorway was Sona, the light reflecting off her glasses and making them glint ominously, and Fenrir, who had his hands up as if he had been trying to stop the girl. He was also panting as if he'd run all the way from his room, which was not altogether unlikely. They were both wearing casual yukata, though his looked out of place on him. His wolf ears and tail were also out to help him blend in with the other Youkai.
"Are you crazy?! What made you think that was a good idea? How did you even do that? I know the doors are… are… aw shit."
Fenrir trailed off as he looked into the room. The four women and Harry stared back at him with mixed reactions. Luckily, the Wizard had conjured clothing for all of the naked women on reflex, but not himself. Regardless, Serafall had a chilling smile on her face, while Kuroka's was more teasing but still dangerous. Shirone's expression was nothing short of murderous. Yasaka was the only one who was genuinely smiling, dressed in her usual formal kimono. Sona's furious visage melted away when she saw Harry. She blushed to her ears and fainted dead away. Her male companion caught her before she face-planted, wishing he had the benefit of having lost consciousness.
"I'll uh, I'll just be going now. Sorry to disturb you."
He bowed and carried Sona off as fast as he could. Long after he left, everyone broke into laughter once more.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"Damages are still being tallied, but in terms of loss of life, Kyoto has lost about ten percent of its overall civilian population and up to thirty percent of its total military forces, with most of that being Youkai who were enraptured by the spell. Had Nurarihyon-dono's Hyakki Yakou not been timed as it was, We shudder to think what would have happened."
The Hyakki Yakou had indeed lived up to its legacy. The Night Parade of One Hundred Demons was a forced movement ritual conducted with Nurarihyon and other Youkai he selected at its head. Anyone who participated in its march from the beginning traveled the full length from Kyoto to Tokyo via magic, while anyone who joined partway through was dropped off in random spots along the way. In this case, it worked to the defenders' favor since the ritual of the Parade could not be stopped once started.
Harry listened grimly as Yasaka outlined the results of the invasion. The population of Japanese Youkai was not large to begin with, so any loss was felt by the whole city. But, there was a silver lining. Had this invasion occurred only a decade earlier, almost all of the Youkai living in Japan would have been in the city, and it would have been forced to fend for itself. It was only recently that more population centers of Youkai could be found in other cities like Osaka and Aoyama. Youkai from other cities returned to them earlier, leaving only their elite forces behind to participate in the defense effort. These elite forces would happily supplement the Kyoto military while it recovered, since the other cities were receiving joint aid from the other Three Factions under the leadership of the Satan of Military Affairs.
Kunou, who had tried to greet Harry when he entered the room with Yasaka, now slept peacefully curled up in his lap in her fox kit form. After her expulsion from the dimension in which Shirone and Kuroka fought Naberius, she had been integral in uniting the two civilian populations in preparation for the final evacuation at midnight. She had only arrived from Tokyo and the other cities earlier that morning to report from Nurarihyon, who was organizing efforts in the capital city along with Falbium. Her ears twitched when Harry ran his hand over her head, scratching behind them for a few seconds.
"The survivors?" he asked.
"We are told the majority of the civilians will make a full recovery. At least half of our remaining military is injured in some way, though tentative predictions are that most of them will recover as well."
"I'll help the rest who can't."
"That would be most appreciated. However, We have questions We would like answers to."
Harry closed his eyes.
"Of course you do. Alright, ask."
"Do not worry, Harry-san. Ours are not the questions you might expect. We do have you to thank for the return of both our Guardians, as it were. The city will be ecstatic to hear the news."
He smiled. Right now, both Kuroka and her sister Shirone were touring the city. Serafall was back in the Underworld talking with Sirzechs and Ajuka about how the return of the Nekoshou twins would be handled, along with a progress report on the aftermath of the invasion. Michael had sent a message via Griselda, who had met with Harry on the way to Yasaka's room. The reincarnated Angel left with Saji and the rest of Sona's Peerage for a special warded zone in Heaven that wouldn't kill them. As soon as Sona woke up, she would probably demand to be taken there as well, which was why Irina was waiting patiently in a guest room along with Masaomi, a former subordinate of her father's.
"Right. So, what do you want to ask?"
"Always in such a rush. We have another method of questioning in mind."
Harry looked at the Kitsune in confusion.
"Do you know how to perform a communion of souls?"
"Yasaka, we can't."
His immediate denial was met with soft chuckles.
"So you do have something to hide?" Yasaka asked with a teasing smile.
"You know that's not why. Do you want me to swear an oath?"
Instead of answering him, she stood up. She walked over and sat down in front of him, reaching into his lap and lifting the sleeping fox kit from it gently. Kunou blinked awake as she was removed from her warm and comfortable spot, but fell back asleep when she was cradled in her mother's arms. Harry deadpanned when Yasaka scooted over and laid her head on his shoulder.
"Yasaka…"
"Shh."
Her nine tails curled around them both.
"You fear Death. Not for yourself, but for others. But, you underestimate your own power over it. Did you know that a mate-bond doubles as a soul bond as well?"
"What?" he asked in surprise. But that meant…
"It's true."
Yasaka set her daughter down in her own lap and laid one hand on Kunou's head. The other traced the side of Harry's neck. The invisible paw print tingled under her touch.
"This is Kuroka's. Stronger than ever, no doubt because you've finally accepted her."
"…I did ask Magari for permission. I suppose I should have asked you too. Sorry for taking one of your Guardians away after you just got her back, technically."
"Fufufu. Don't worry, Harry-san. It's what she always wanted."
She traced his collarbone until she reached the other side of his neck, leaning against him for easier access.
"This is Shirone's. A fitting name, We think. Her mark predates her sister's. It too is strong. In fact, We think it might just be stronger. What does this mean, We wonder?"
Harry shuddered.
"Uh, sorry," he apologized sheepishly.
"If We didn't know better, We would think this was all part of your plans from years ago. But, even you could not have predicted who that Devil would have targeted. It was mere chance he befriended the Nekomata first. If anything, you should be praised for your services."
"I…"
"Shhhh."
Yasaka's shushing finger traced its way down Harry's face to the center of his chest, hidden by his yukata. It stopped on his heart. A third mark.
"And this… This is where We would have placed ours, had you let us. Three tails is actually quite late for such a thing, but it's not unheard of."
"It's not a mate-bond."
"It isn't. She imprinted on you. But you know what the surprising part is?"
Harry didn't need to ask, but he did anyway.
"What is it?"
"It covers another. The same mark. By the same person."
Yasaka sat up. While she was leaned over, Kunou had shifted positions several times. Eventually, the small girl migrated from one lap to another and resettled in her previous spot. The leader of the Youkai smiled at the sight and stood up fully, straightening her kimono.
"It seems We do not have questions after all. Your silence is telling."
She walked to the door of her bedroom. Kitsune and Wizard made eye contact as the former stood in the doorway.
"We have other tasks to attend to. We trust you will treat our daughter with the utmost of courtesies. Be informed that as her godfather, we expect you to visit much more often than you have thus far."
Harry spluttered. Yasaka smirked playfully.
"Farewell, Master. Take care not to waste this chance."
And she was gone. He stared at the door as it slid closed on its own. The Kitsune in his lap continued to sleep peacefully. He carefully lifted her into his arms as he stood up as well. She burrowed into his chest. When he was sure she was done moving around, he teleported into his empty shared bedroom and deposited the small kit onto his pillow. Kunou let herself be tucked in without complaint. Harry sat on the bed next to her.
"This chance, huh."
He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he had reaffirmed his resolve.
"This time, I'll get it right."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Serafall crouched down and brushed some snow off of the gravestone of her parents. Lord and Lady Sitri had died during the Great War between the Three Factions, leaving her alone. They were supposed to be alive. Without them, Sona's very existence was a paradox. But that was what her Time-Turner was for. She was from the old world. Her soul was bound to the artifact the same way Harry's was bound to the one around his neck. The same way Koneko's, or Shirone's, had been bound to hers. As far as she knew, Harry carried ten other artifacts, for a total of thirteen. Not all of them were hourglasses.
All of them supported the existence of souls in a world where they were not meant to continue living in. The culmination of his plans required the destruction of all of them in sequence, but only after the people they were bonded to could support themselves. She didn't know why Harry only needed artifacts for certain people, but he told her it was important. Ritual magic was very specific with regards to things like number of participants.
Everything was to avert the End.
A cold wind blew through the Sitri family cemetery. It was the middle of the summer, but this part of the Sitri territory was captured in an eternal winter. Not that any of it bothered Serafall. She didn't specialize in ice magic for show. Her little sister following in her footsteps, rather than the water magic the Sitri Clan was known for, was likely a byproduct of her new experiences since being reincarnated here. Now that nobody wielded Time, any future generations of the clan would probably also specialize in ice magic. Maybe her avatar of ice would replace the family's avatar of water as their signature magic?
"I thought I'd find you here."
Serafall turned around and saw her fellow Satan trudging through the snow. Unlike her magical girl outfit, Ajuka wore his usual green cloak over his bare chest and formal pants. His Kankara Formula kept his body warm.
"Hi, Ajuka-chan. Where's Zechs-chan at?"
"Waiting in the wings. The Devils he was keeping an eye on made their move early and were all caught."
"Wow~"
"Azazel and Michael both sent us a message. Members of both their Factions have defected. Looks like the invasion on Kyoto was the trigger for something big. Are you about ready to go?"
"Go where?"
"Europe. Didn't Harry tell you? I'm coming along."
Serafall blinked.
"What about our wedding?"
"Still next week. So's mine."
"…Then why are we going to Europe now?"
Ajuka blinked in response.
"Damn it, Harry. Don't use me as your messenger," he muttered. He cleared his throat. "He has a standing invite from a Magician's association. The Hexennacht Order. Listen carefully. He's their secret leader."
She blinked again as information flooded into her head.
"Woah. I feel like I should have known that."
"I'm told it's supposed to feel that way. Anyway, I have some last minute things to take care of so that the Rating Tournament will run smoothly in my absence. Lord Orion's supposed to debut along with his new Peerage members. It's going to be a real headache. I don't envy Sirzechs for having to deal with the fallout."
"Why?"
"Vali Lucifer and Kuroka. An exile and someone who's supposed to have come back from the dead. He's also going to have another member, if Sirzechs isn't outright lying to me. He doesn't do things by halves, does he?"
"Don't forget about me!"
Ajuka paused.
"What?"
"I'm his Queen now!" Serafall declared. "We made it official yesterday!"
His reaction was lacking in her opinion.
"About time. It's a good thing you won't be participating in the Tournament."
"Why not?"
"What do you mean 'why not'? You're a Satan. You can't participate."
"Sure I can! All I gotta do is wear Harry's cloak!"
"You mean Lord Orion's signature cloak? That won't go over well. And he needs it to hide himself anyway."
"Pfft. You just watch. I'll get into the Games somehow."
Ajuka deadpanned at her. She smiled cheerfully back at him. Their staring contest lasted several seconds while he tried to figure out exactly how she planned on hiding her identity and what the repercussions of her appointment as the Queen if it were ever discovered. Eventually, he gave up and sighed.
"…I guess it's a really good thing I won't be around then. Anyway, are you ready?"
"Gimme a few minutes, then I'll be all good. It's just a quick visit, right?"
"That's the idea. I'll wait for you in Kyoto. I need to talk to Yasaka about something else. Also, we have one more coming with us. A werewolf."
"M'kay."
Ajuka nodded and turned to leave. He stopped, considering his next words. In the end, he settled for a simple warning.
"…Don't take too long."
"Yep!"
Serafall waved as he vanished in the light of teleportation. His footsteps were covered by new layer of snow in no time. She turned back to the gravestone and brushed more snow off of it.
"Rest in peace, Mom, Dad. Don't you worry, Harry and I will take great care of Sona. You can count on us! And uh, Harry still thinks it's his fault you died. Like you probably heard, we're getting married next week. I'll have all the time in the world to convince him to visit you guys, and we'll set the whole thing straight. Mhm."
She nodded to herself.
"So, I'll see you in a bit. Bye for now!"
With that, she walked out of the graveyard.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"Hey."
"Hey."
Fenrir regarded the other man carefully.
"I heard you helped heal my pack. Thanks."
"No problem. I promised."
"I didn't expect you to bring the others back too."
"Part of the benefits of being allied with me."
The werewolf leader scoffed. When he had met with the Master of Death for the first time, he wasn't expecting someone so young. The aura of power was unmistakable though. Resurrecting the dead only reconfirmed the man's status. He wasn't sure how Death was able to do it, but he didn't care either.
"I did what you asked," Fenrir said. "She's safe."
"You did. Good job," Harry replied.
"Now it's your turn. Where is she?"
"I can't bring her back."
The werewolf narrowed his eyes.
"Are you going back on your word?"
"No. I can't bring her back because she's not fully dead yet."
"…What?"
"Augusta Greyback's soul is being held in stasis by the Hexennacht Order."
"My… Order? We have her soul? But then, why did they send me here?"
"To meet me. To get me to come back with you once I realized who you were, or whose son you were. Let's start over, Loup Garou 'Rugal' Greyback. Nice to meet you. I'm Harry James Potter, your godfather."
Loup Garou blinked as information flooded his mind. His eyes widened.
"The Fidelius… you're the…"
"Yes. I'm apparently the leader of the Hexennacht Order now. You're coming with me to meet them and talk to your mother about what is and isn't appropriate for a prank. I think I taught her too well."
"…Master?"
"Don't call me that."
A/N: Friendly reminder that our update schedule can be found on my profile. Additional story details are also posted there.
The total number of witches and wizards in the world is inconsistent in HP canon. It has been estimated to be around one to two million, so we assumed population growth was relatively stagnant and rounded up.
Yes, the Blue is a reference. No, no other parts of this fic took inspiration from that universe.
In the next arc, Harry and Serafall pack for Europe to forge new alliances! However, things don't quite go according to plan…