Disclaimer: chapter one

Reviews!:

Sakra95: About elemental transfiguration: what I meant was that transfiguring fire into an actual rose, not flames shaped like a rose. As for CaoCao/Vali and anyone else visiting Harry, well, lets see what I can do. And yes, I did face similar issues when deciding what to do with Rias, but most of that has been figured out.

Crimson green flame: No, Harry will not be turned into a Devil.

Also, the last chapter was apparently too 'meh' given that I received very little (comparatively) low reviews on it. Usually a chapter gets 19-21 but last chapter had only 14-15. I'm quite sure that if it was bad then I would also receive around the same number, except most would be negative. Guess this needs overall improvement, then.

Chapter Eight

The library was quite bigger than Sapphire expected. She was here for two reasons: do her own research about this society, and spy on Harry as he talked with that Daphne girl.

…though to be fair, Harry was well aware of her presence.

She had come here well before the two of them, using various spells to read multiple books very quickly. Magic made multiple things possible, such as the ability to read even a million words within an hour. If she wanted, she could go faster, but that made her head hurt.

As she was returning a set of books back to the shelf, she spotted the prefect who had showed them around. The bushy haired girl, Hermione, looked at her too. Then her eyes went to the books Sapphire was carrying.

"Those are very advanced books, Sapphire," she said.

Sapphire didn't particularly think so. They were books on 'wandless magic', some about the governmental structure, some on magic theory. She even had a book or two on the day-to-day life here and the favourite pass-times of an average wizard.

"Perhaps," said Sapphire. "But they answered what I wanted to know, so that's that, I guess."

"And what's that? How to do wandless magic?" Hermione asked.

Sapphire shook her head. "Quite the opposite. Magic is magic. Performing it with a wand or without is of little consequence. Of course, depending on that stick you're carrying and believing that magic is impossible without it is… beyond stupid."

Hermione was confused. Sure, none of them were carrying wands, but that had to be a mistake on their part? A really stupid mistake, that Hermione had no doubt that Headmaster Dumbledore must have fixed by now by allowing them to leave and come back with their wands.

After all, the Wand Weighing Ceremony was just yesterday. Hermione herself had not heard of any rumors or stories of the event, but she did know for sure that Harry had attended. This must mean that Dumbledore allowed him to go and retrieve his wand, at last least according to Hermione.

"But, we do need wands to perform magic. Every spell is cast by saying the incantation and moving the wand in a set pattern, or the wand movement," Hermione countered.

Sapphire pondered if she should give her a demonstration. But decided against it. It would draw attention, and this was a library, so she didn't want to disturb anyone.

"Come, Hermione, let us sit," Sapphire said as she led the other girl to a secluded desk that she was using earlier. It even had a perfect view of Harry and the girl he was sitting with.

Hermione simply sat down. She could not wait to hear what Sapphire had to say. If it proved interesting and challenging enough, then she could even ask her professors about it to confirm it.

"Like I said, magic is magic. However, it does have certain rules. All of these rules are quite arbitrary and can be toyed with, once again however, within limits," Sapphire said. When Hermione nodded, Sapphire continued. "What do you think magic is governed by? As in what makes a spell work?"

Hermione looked at her oddly. "I just told you. The incantation with its correct pronunciations, wand movements, and—"

"None of that matters," Sapphire said. "All that matters is belief. Believing that whatever you want to do using magic will happen. If there's even a slightest doubt, your magic will not allow that to happen. With me so far?"

"But if that is all, then everyone would do wandless magic."

"And what's stopping them?" Sapphire asked.

"Because it's impossible," Hermione said with full confidence.

"No, you believe it to be impossible. So, try as much as you wish, but because of that unwavering belief, your magic won't allow you to perform a single spell without a wand, or an incantation," Sapphire said. "Harry and I were taught by Mep… a very knowledgeable teacher… and he taught us that being a mage meant that you have to be as open minded as possible, and the word 'impossible' should not exist. After all, it's magic. Who's to say what is possible and what isn't?"

Sapphire avoided saying Mephisto's name because of what happened in the bank.

Hermione didn't want to believe that. It went against everything that she had been taught about magic. But then again, why did accidental magic happen? She surely didn't have a wand when she made all the glass explode over a tantrum.

"So wands are useless?"

"I didn't say that," Sapphire said. "A wand is a tool, and like every other tool, it has its uses. For one, it does make learning magic that much simple, as this school has proved."

"What do you mean by that?"

Hermione was a bit surprised as the other girl took her time to answer. Had she been thrown in for a loop? Did she require a lot of time to get her answer?

The reason was fairly simple: Sapphire was currently (and discreetly) paying attention to Harry as he was almost falling asleep in front of his 'tutor', who had yet to notice. Either she was under an illusion or she simply didn't care.

Sapphire looked back at Hermione. "You're what they call a muggleborn, yes?"

"And what of it?" Hermione asked, her tone turning icy.

"Then you must have compared how magic is taught here as how science is taught in non magical schools," Sapphire replied, paying her hostile tone no heed.

Hermione relaxed a bit, and nodded. She had. It was impossible not to. Theory after theory, law after law, each named after the wizard or witch who had discovered them.

"That is the issue," Sapphire explained. "Inherently, there is nothing wrong with thinking of magic as another branch of science and learning it that way. However, the way you are taught about how to cast spells is too rigid. Think about it. If your wand doesn't move in a certain pattern, if you don't correctly pronounce a certain word and so on, you believe that a spell will fail. So, whenever something goes against that norm, it must be what?"

Hermione had her answer ready. "Silent casting is a thing, you know. And only exceptional wizards or witches can do that."

"Once again, wrong. I just told you. Your belief is holding you back. Open your mind, Hermione," Sapphire said. "Unlike this school, the world is a beautiful place if you see it that way."

Hermione pondered over it. "Wait, what do you mean, unlike this school?"

Sapphire sighed sadly. "This library has almost over six thousand unique books. That's not even going into the duplicate books it has. And yet, not a single fiction book can be found. Well, apart from a few children tales and ballads that are clearly from the Dark Ages."

"Why would there be? This is a school library?" Hermione questioned.

"And don't mundane schools have Lord of the Rings? Or Narnia? Or even non fantasy classics such as Pride and Prejudice and Tom Sawyer or even Huckleberry Finn? Or even Shakespeare's plays?"

"But those schools have English as a language to be studied and—"

"Fictional books, not just the classics, but even modern ones, have uses well beyond a nonsensical book report that no one is going to read," Sapphire interjected. "They can provide a different insight into the world, a different perspective. In certain cases, they even provide an insight into a society's culture and beliefs. And, even give you unique and original ideas. All of which is very important when pertaining to magic."

Harry was a prime example. A lot of his spells and attacks were designed after most of the anime he watched. He even called his Balance Breaker a Noble Phantasm, and referred to his patronus as a Stand.

"I still don't see your point."

Sapphire huffed in exasperation. It was to be expected. Harry was only partially correct with his reasoning of why Mephisto hated these people.

They were stagnant. Out of ideas. The lack of fiction in here, again aside from children's tales, told her plenty. But it was evident in the art as well. The castle had artwork from multiple eras, however the style had stopped evolving.

Say what you want about modern art, but it had its expression. As cameras could capture real life images extremely well, artists began to draw and paint pieces that may not have any form and were abstract, but it still had expression. Emotion, that the artist could capture, not in someone's face, but in the painting as a whole.

Sapphire had yet to see anything like that in this castle that was… expressive. Sure, the paintings were alive, but each new piece felt like an imitation of the one that came before. The castle itself may be magic, and even sentient to a degree, but it felt empty. There was no evolution here.

No originality, no freedom for growth, no progress. That lead to people here just existing. Sapphire would hate living here. She did not know what their music or theatre was like, but she didn't hold any expectations. Of course, they would not have movies, as they had yet to invent that concept.

And Sapphire was also done talking to Hermione. If the girl didn't want to believe that she could be much more greater than this, that was her problem. Fortunately for her, it looked like Harry was finished too.

For the past fifteen minutes or so, Harry was struggling to stay awake. Daphne was boring him. It wasn't the way she explained or anything, but rather it was the topic of discussion.

He hated politics. Sure, he could 'speak the language' as it were, but Harry would rather stay out of anything to do with political issues. Too many headaches in politics.

Daphne was just droning on about how his family was important and hers was important, and something about holding seats, and something about voting and something about 'Light' and 'Dark'. There was some other thing called a 'Neutral' too.

Well, at least it wasn't a two party system, Harry thought idly when he had heard that. That always lead to people voting for who they believed to be the lesser evil, who may not be the right choice.

"Is this all you do?" Harry interrupted Daphne as she was saying something about keeping in mind who he hangs out with or else people may get some wrong ideas about his alliances.

"Huh?" Daphne asked as she stopped mid-sentence.

"Having to always watch over your back, wondering how some random person will react if you hung out with someone? Constantly worry about how your words might be interpreted?" Harry asked. "Think multiple times of someone's lineage before even attempting to make pleasant conversation?"

"You misunderstood me," Daphne said. "All I said was that, as not only the Boy-Who-Lived but also the heir to the House of Potter, you have to be careful about who you are seen with and the way you present yourself, especially if you want people to give you the proper respect deserving of your station."

"Ah, but who decides that the people I am seen with are worthy of… well, whatever criteria you put forward." Harry was honestly surprised. Unlike the previous encounter, she didn't get riled up by that. Her voice was quite… calm, collected.

Harry realized why. Occulumency, used to do the most idiotic thing, at least according to Harry. Turn off emotional senses. Of the many things that could affect magic, emotions played a major role. Whereas belief made impossible possible through magic, emotions could affect the strength of one's magical abilities.

To turn off emotions using Occulumency, you were intentionally weakening your own magic. It did have its very niche uses, but what Daphne was doing was dangerous.

By Harry's estimate, she had been suppressing emotions for a long time. Which, in turn, had a drastic response on her mental health.

"You know what," Harry said before Daphne could respond. "Why don't you tell me a little something about, say, your first year in this school? Maybe that could give me a little insight into what you mean."

Daphne looked at him in confusion. "How would my first year help?"

"Oh y'know, what friends did you make, who did you let yourself seen with, that kind of a thing." Harry replied.

"I was only 'seen with' as you put it, the heir to House of Nott, Theodore, and the younger daughter of the head of the House of Davis, Tracey."

Harry, once again, noted that the way she spoke about them wasn't the way she would speak about friends, but rather business, or in this case, political partners. From his research, he knew that the Davis House went back eight generations, and the Notts went back ten. Harry had no idea how much that mattered, but he didn't particularly care, either.

"Okay, but what kind of fun did you get to?" Harry asked.

Daphne once again looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"C'mon, don't tell me that all you did was build future connections all the time!"

"We just studied and attended classes." Daphne replied.

Harry sighed to himself. This was… concerning. Sure, even he studied and attended classes when he was eleven. But there were so many times that he and Sapphire would just go have fun with their Devil friends.

Like pranking Tannin by mixing pixie dust in his breakfast. While it didn't work as intended because they were stupid (and eleven) and didn't check that what they were adding wasn't pixie dust at all. Fortunately it was way too little to affect a Dragon.

But Daphne had no such memories, not because she was obliviated, but because she simply didn't remember. Or rather, chose not to remember.

The brain was a very interesting organ. As long as anything in life had an emotional value, it would remember it. But give something zero value, and it simply would deign it unworthy and won't remember it.

This was what Daphne had done.

By stamping out her emotions for so long, her brain had forgotten about what made life fun. It didn't assign any value to anything, so she couldn't recall her first year.

Harry should have realized this yesterday, but a part of him had assumed that she knew how to defend herself against an empath. The reality was a lot darker.

Daphne Greengrass had depression. As to why she had it, it clicked in Harry's mind. Her manner of talking about her friends, the way she carried herself, her fixation on lineage and traditions, all pointed to her parents having drilled that in her mind, at the cost of her own happiness.

"I see," Harry said, finishing his analysis. "Let me just ask you something else, then. Something, far more… personal, if you will."

Daphne considered it. "Go ahead."

"When was the last time you did something because you yourself wanted to, not because it was expected of you?" Harry asked.

Daphne noticed the change of his tone. All this time, it was lighthearted, like he didn't take anything she told him seriously. She didn't mind, all she needed to do was ensure that he saw her way in the end. But his voice took a sharp serious tone at that question.

It threw her off course. "Wh-what?"

Harry shook his head as he got up. "Until you can answer that, I think we're done."

"What? Why?" Daphne asked, getting up after him.

"Because it is fun," Harry replied simply. "Try to have some fun, sometimes. No, seriously. Learn how to have fun."

He then left, leaving behind a very confused Daphne.

"Why does she interest you that much?" Sapphire asked as she caught up with Harry as he left Daphne by herself.

"Have you seen that ass?" Harry asked.

Sapphire glanced back at Daphne. "I can't exactly see from this angle."

"Shame," Harry said dryly. "In all seriousness, she has depression. Not the 'I wanna end it all' type but the 'I'm dead inside and life has no real meaning' type. How long do you think before her magic responds accordingly and starts to decay her mind and body?"

Sapphire frowned. "That is a rare complication."

"But it could happen. I want to prevent that. If nothing else, she gets out of it, starts enjoying life again. What's so bad about that?" Harry asked.

Sapphire shook her head. She both liked and disliked his habit of wanting to help everyone with their problems. The good thing was that he almost never did it for free.

"Besides," Harry interjected. "A young girl living in what seems to be an oppressive household, wanting to break free but can't. Does that remind you of someone?"

Sapphire's eyes widened in realization. "You think that under different circumstances Lavinia would have ended up like that?"

Harry nodded. "Yup. The difference being that Lavinia was brave enough to run. Daphne isn't. What I could get off of her mind was that she does want to break free. But, at the same time, she is quite afraid of disappointing her parents. So, she does whatever they want her to, not what she wants to. This internal turmoil results in her creating a shell, a icy persona that is a defensive mechanism."

"And that in turn resulted in her using Occulumency to turn off her emotions," Sapphire completed Harry's chain of thought. "You have your work cut out for you."

"Unfortunately." Harry muttered.

The day of the first Task arrived.

It was a clouded day, and all the competitors were gathered in a tent that was expanded on the inside.

Harry looked around, noticing the nervousness and certainly fear on each of the others. Did they know something he didn't? Harry wouldn't put it beyond them to cheat or use loopholes to find out exactly what they were doing in this task.

If Harry wanted to, he would have done the same. The difference was that Harry enjoyed planning on the fly rather than going in prepared.

After all, as Mephisto says, the answer to everything is magic.

"So… you seem… confident," said one of his competitors. He wore yellow and black uniform, with the Hogwarts logo on the left chest. Harry tried to remember his name… but couldn't. The other boy hadn't exactly made an impression on him. "Got some secret plan?"

"Oh you know, walk in, do magic, walk out. That sort of a thing," Harry replied. In all fairness however, depending on what he was facing, the second step could entirely be optional.

A bright flash of light interrupted them. Rita Skeeter walked in, making a beeline for Harry.

"Mr. Potter! I'm sure you remember me, Rita Skeeter, yes?" the blonde woman said, ignoring the Hogwarts champion. Given that Dumbledore was in the audience stands with the rest of the judges, she needed to be quick in getting an opportunity to 'tell the truth'. "May I ask you a few questions? Perhaps as an interview?"

Harry shrugged. He was more than aware that she was a tabloid reporter and would probably run his name through the mud, but he didn't particularly care. After all, he wasn't going to be interacting with them after this whole tournament was over and he had gotten his money back, nor was he going to apply for jobs or anything in this country.

All in all, their opinions of him were completely insignificant to him, no matter how positive or negative they may be.

Rita took that as an yes. "The people wish to know, Mr. Potter, why did you not attend Hogwarts when you were eleven?"

The other people in the tent also turned to him, wanting to know his answer.

"Because as an eleven year old that decision wouldn't be mine to make?" Harry asked/answered. Now, he wasn't aware of how much legal freedom was allowed to minors in this country, but he doubted that an eleven year old could not just pick and choose what school they wanted to attend without the consent of their parent/guardian.

"Well, why did your… guardians not allow you to attend Hogwarts?" Rita changed the question.

"And I would know that, how, exactly?" Harry knew exactly why, but he wanted to troll this woman as much as possible.

"Hmm, well, moving on. During the Wand Weighing Ceremony, it was noted that you could perform wandless magic, and conjured fire on your palm. Experts claim that such a feat is impossible, so you must have been hiding your wand. Why go to such extents to make yourself seem powerful?"

Harry smiled inwardly, folding his arms and conjuring a stick in his hand. He made sure that it was around ten inches long and looked like a wand. With a mischievous look in his eyes, he produced the stick."Oops. You caught me."

Rita had a 'Ha! Got you!" look on her face. "Why resort to deception, Mr. Potter?"

"You said it yourself, Ms. Skeeter!" Harry said.

"The truth comes out then! Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, is nothing but a cheater and an attention seeker!" Rita said as her quill quickly wrote down whatever she was saying. Seemingly happy that she got an exposé, Rita left the tent.

Harry could barely hold his laughter as the other champions looked at him in shock and disgust, apparently having bought his tale. Well, if there's anything like a tournament arc in this… tournament, they'll be in for a rude awakening. Perhaps he should hold on to this stick to further complete the illusion.

Shortly after, the same two men who had come to Mephisto's house in Germany showed up, to explain the rules and their task.

Harry sighed in slight disappointment. Get a golden egg from an Hungarian Horntail?

If he wasn't half(?) quarter(?) whatever, dragon, then this might have been challenging.

Harry was the last to enter the arena.

It was a stony arena floor, with rocks of varying heights everywhere making it look like a mountainous region. He could see the dragon on one side, and within her reach, was the golden egg.

The dragon had yet to notice him, but that was fine. These types of dragons were Lesser Dragons, and while they were dangerous to even Mid- to High- class Devils, they lacked the strength — both physical and that of their flames — as that of a Dragon King such as Tannin.

Now, Harry could just see if the egg was summonable. Boring, but practical. Also, he was quite sure that the judges had warded the egg against that sort of a thing.

He pointed the stick he had conjured at the egg and tried it anyways. His hunch was correct. The egg didn't even move an inch.

Harry idly heard the commentary, with the commentators wondering what he was about to do and what his strategy was.

It was going to be a simple strategy, as Harry realized something. Instead of summoning the egg to him, he summoned the entire stone on which the egg was kept to himself. This had the consequence of the egg being flung towards him and he easily caught it.

Unfortunately, this had the Horntail noticing that one of her eggs was being taken away from her, and she rose, smoke coming out of her mouth. Harry paid her no mind as he stopped the stone (and the egg) just an inch in front of him, and grabbed his objective.

At the same time, the dragon spewed her flames at him. Harry put the rock in between himself and the flames. He could, obviously, stand in those flames and be completely unharmed. However, he wasn't sure if the egg could handle the heat.

That, and he wasn't exactly wearing fire proof clothes. He didn't exactly want to expose himself to the crowd.

The Horntail stopped her flame after a long time, pausing to take a deep breath in. Harry let loose the heated rock, hurling it at the dragon. As it approached the dragon, the rock suddenly transformed into a bunch of sheep that began to run away from the large predator.

This had the intended effect of the dragon being distracted by so many sheep running around her. She snapped at some of them, trying to get to her egg.

Unfortunately for her, Harry had left the arena with his prize.

Harry scowled at the scores as he sat in infirmary. The nurse had been quite adamant on giving him a check up despite having sustained no injuries.

With a total of forty two, he was second. Well didn't matter. Two more tasks to overtake that Bulgarian guy.

He sighed as he looked at the egg in his hands. Apparently it contained a clue about the location of their next task. As he spotted one of the judges, an idea popped in his head. He walked over to the portly man, holding the egg in his arms.

"Mr. Bagsman?" Harry asked as approached Ludo Bagman.

"Its Bagman, Harry!" the man corrected cheerfully. "Now, now! I know what you want, and no, unfortunately I can't tell you the secret to the egg!"

"Okay, but can I ask just one question?"

"Hmm. As long as it's nothing to do with the egg, sure!"

"Is the next task also a highly publicized event?" Harry asked.

"Why, yes of course! The tickets are already sold out and they went on sale yesterday! All of Britain, Bulgaria and France will be watching you four!" Bagman said joyously.

"Sweet," Harry said, as he prepared a teleportation circle after the other man left.

"This is the best!" Harry said with a grin as he teleported away, his 'wand' being left behind on the infirmary bed.

"That sucks."

Harry scowled at Sapphire as they sat in their living quarters.

"Tell me about it. The egg is actually made out of Leprechaun gold, and will disappear after its intended purpose is over. And to think that I was going to sell almost one kilogram of gold..." Harry muttered.

Harry had gotten it appraised at a black market gold dealer who was recommended by Mephisto. No one was going to purchase Leprechaun gold.

" Wait," Lavinia cut in." Don't you need that for the next task or something?"

"Yeah, well, the next task is a publisized event as well. You know what that means? I don't need to figure out the location or what or even when the next task is, it would literally be announced country and school wide," Harry answered. "The classes will have a holiday if it's on a weekday, the reporters will come in and the like. How exactly are they going to keep that a secret?"

"Right." Lavinia said.

"Well…anyways. If nothing else, I'm gonna go sleep now," Harry said as he got up to go to bed.

Sapphire shook her head in amusement before she realized something. "Wait. Where's Ingvild?"

"She… is in her bedroom. Online shopping using that credit card we used the other day."

"Really? I didn't know that Amazon delivered here?" Sapphire asked.

"She isn't shopping on Amazon."

Meanwhile, in Azazel's office

"Uhhh Penemue, I can explain..." Azazel said fearfully as he backed up into a wall.

"Normally I don't kink-shame, but… why the ever loving fuck does your company card have a bill for…" Penemue looked at the bill in her hand. "a 240 Volt FuckMaster Pro 5000 blowup latex doll with 6 speed pulsating vagina, elasticized anus with non-drip semen collection tray, together with optional built in realistic orgasm scream surround sound system with customizable bust and ass?!" She then tore the bill. "AND WHO THE FUCK IS GOING TO PAY THE CREDIT CARD BILL OF FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND U.S. DOLLARS AZAZEL?!"

"I… didn't purchase th-that," Azazel said in a fearful whisper.

"Then why is it being sent to your personal home address?!"

Back at Hogwarts

Ingvild smiled wickedly. The next item could also be turned into a futa, complete with fully functioning testicles. And the one after that was meant to simulate non-consentual tentacle fantasies. All were being shipped to Azazel's home.

A/N: Yes, Ingvild knows who's card that is, now. I didn't come up with the description of the sex-doll; some of you may recognize it from the memes.

Harry will also try his absolute best to troll the entire M-UK as best as possible.

The entire thing with Daphne is me trying (and probably failing) to poke fun at all the many fanfics here that have the child politicians. You know, when 11 year old Harry gets sorted in Slytherin and then has to form allainces because Slytherins don't make friends. Or some BS like that.

Also, what I wrote about depression - the part where you don't retain memories because your brain can't be bothered to remember is absolutely a real thing that can happen, and sometimes without the depressed individual knowing that this is happening. I'm also trying to portray Daphne as a real depressed girl, as in, it can be very subtle and can go unnoticed, even by yourself and those closest to you. It is a very serious issue and if you even think that you are going through something similar, please get professional help.

On a more lighter note, I kinda-sorta want to leave this prompt here, if someone wants to do something with it:

The real power that Voldemort knows not is actually Harrymort fanfictions, as written by a fourteen year old girl.

Hope you all enjoyed!