I'm gratified at the mostly positive response to this story, and I personally feel it to be a superior work by far to Fall to Zenith, a better fusion of the Potterverse and the world of Highschool DxD. It may be some time before it is posted as a full story, though, but I have finished the first four chapters. I just want to finish a few more so I can be sure this story has legs.
On another note, I've updated my poll with more choices,. Oh, and incidentally, thanks to some inspiration from a challenge by Dis Lexic, I am strongly considering making my next story posted in The Cauldron a crossover with Is This a Zombie? Not a strong one: the only character from Is This a Zombie? will be Eucliwood Hellscythe (though a Potterverse character WILL be a Magical Garment/Magikewl Girl), but I think it would work.
HERMIONE BAEL
CHAPTER 2:
DDRAIG
Hermione walked through the corridors of her family's home, weeping quietly. While not as huge as the main estate of the Bael family, let alone the residence of the Gremorys or Sirzech's manse, it was still very much a luxurious mansion by human standards. Still, she wasn't sure she could put enough distance between herself and her new Queen.
There had been an argument, of course. Hermione would have been surprised if there hadn't been. She had been expecting this the moment she was brought to the Dursleys' home and found Harry with a knife through his heart. But it still hurt all the same.
She understood his issues. He hadn't taken umbrage with her being a Cambion. No, it was being basically turned into a Devil against his will, and basically being her servant, after she had explained the whole servitude thing. Never mind that she would never treat him like the Dursleys did. Hell, as far as she was concerned, she took after her cousins in that regard, treating her Peerage like her friends, and extended family. But he wouldn't listen.
She just left the room, leaving Harry to his own devices, hoping that a bit of time would allow tempers to cool. In a way, though, it felt like running away from her problems. And yet, didn't the Sorting Hat put her into Gryffindor? The House of the brave and valorous?
"Hey, Hermione? What's the matter, nyah?"
Hermione blinked away the tears to find that she nearly walked into one of her Bishops. The dark-haired young woman was tall, elegant, and voluptuous, her kimono seemingly perpetually on the verge of a wardrobe malfunction, showcasing her impressive breasts to the world. Her golden eyes, usually glittering with mischief and lust, looked at her King in concern. A pair of cat tails waved lazily from her rear, and a pair of cat ears twitched upon her head.
Kuroka was one of the first members of Hermione's Peerage. She was a type of magical being (particularly the Japanese variety known as Youkai) called a Nekomata, specifically a subtype of Nekomata called a Nekoshou. Hermione and her parents had stumbled across Kuroka when she was on the run for killing her original master. Oddly enough, Kuroka had been persuaded by the Baels to tell her side of the story: her master had experimented on her, trying to harness the senjutsu powers Nekoshou could harness. Because said master had threatened to do the same to her little sister, Shirone, Kuroka murdered her master.
While Sirzechs listened to Kuroka's story and believed it, the court of public opinion was against her. Kuroka joined Hermione's Peerage as her Bishop, which was probably the only thing that saved her life. The same went for Shirone, who joined the Peerage of Rias Gremory as a Rook, albeit under the name of 'Koneko Toujou'. The two sisters did reconcile some time ago, but even now, Shirone was somewhat reserved and stoic, and reluctant to embrace her senjutsu abilities.
Hermione viewed the flirty Nekoshou as a big sister. Embarrassing and overly flirtatious, true, but Kuroka also knew when to be serious and supportive. Then again, Hermione wasn't lacking in female role models in her life. They ranged from the relatively normal, like her mother, her aunt Venelana, and her cousin Rias and her friend Sona Sitri, to the stranger, like her aunts Raynare and Mittelt, Rias' Queen Akeno (who hid a massive sadomasochistic streak beneath her usually demure demeanour), and Sona's sister, Serafall Leviathan.
Hermione eventually said, "It's Harry. He…reacted badly to being told he was turned into a Devil for my Peerage, even if it was to save his life."
"Oh." The catwoman chewed her lip pensively. "Well, it was going to be a shock to the system, nyah? You probably did your little whirlwind info-dump on him, even when breaking it to him gently. Or maybe you danced around the issue a bit too much. I know Luna wanted you to get to the point quicker, nyah. Did you tell him about the Sacred Gear I sensed within him?"
"How could I?!" she snapped, with more force than she meant. Subsiding a little, she said, "Kuroka, I had to admit to my best friend that I had been lying to him for the past…four years now. That he's basically bound to my service until he earns his freedom. Given how much I made a fuss about SPEW last year, he told me I was a hypocrite."
"Give him time," Kuroka said softly. "Then you can explain everything. D'you want me to go and see him, nyah?"
"No, I don't think it'll help. Gasper wouldn't want to be anywhere near Harry if Harry's in a mood," Hermione said. "And I'm not sure I want the others to be there until he calms down a little. Kuroka, what do you think about the Sacred Gear you sensed?"
"Well, it was definitely draconic, and given the sheer amount of power I felt when I undid the seal, it's certainly upper-tier stuff. Maybe even a Longinus, nyah. Maybe you lucked out and got either Ddraig or Albion," Kuroka said.
"The fact that there was a seal on it in the first place disturbs me," Hermione mused, trying to distract herself from the argument she had with Harry with a bit of problem solving. "You said it felt old, like it's been there since his infancy."
"Of course. The question is, who put it there?" Kuroka asked. "And why?"
"There's a few possibilities, none of which are appealing," Hermione said. "I'm going to talk to Uncle Azazel about this later, see if he knows who knows how to seal a Sacred Gear, especially a draconic one."
"Maybe…but you're still going to have to go back and talk to Harry, nyah. The longer you leave it, the worse it's going to be."
"I know but…I've forced a change on him, without his permission. Okay, he was dead, so he couldn't give it, but even so…it's like this nonsense about being the Boy Who Lived, or being entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, or being sent back to the Dursleys after all they did to him…he gets dumped on from a great height, Kuroka, and I've only added to that…"
Harry knew, intellectually at least, that he should apologise. But he was still so angry at Hermione. He wasn't human anymore, he was a Devil, and her fucking servant. Never mind that she had saved his life, she had kept secrets from him, just like Dumbledore. And now…and now…
He brooded silently, tears running down his scowling face, not really noticing the voice at first. But then, over time, as it became more insistent, he realised he could hear it. A deep, tenebrous voice.
…Partner. Partner! Yes, I am talking to you!
Oh great, Harry thought to himself. I've got voices in my head. So, I've become a Devil, and I'm now schizophrenic.
…I'm not going to dignify that with a response, the voice said. If I had a penny for every time one of my hosts thought I was a sign of madness, I'd have enough for a decent hoard. Then again, I'm as surprised as you are that I can talk to you now. My hosts usually manifest the Boosted Gear and get powerful long before they actually can communicate with me.
"Uhh, what?" Harry asked out loud, rather stupidly.
Hmph. The Bael girl probably would have explained it if you hadn't had your argument. Not that I can blame you for being upset, even if your ire is misplaced, the voice said. She never got around to explaining the concept of a Sacred Gear to you, did she?
"No. She was just telling me that I was going to be her indentured servant. And I'm having a conversation with a voice in my head."
It'd say a lot about your state of mind if I was just a figment of your imagination, the voice said, a vague sense of amusement coming through. Well, allow me to explain if the Bael girl isn't here to. Sacred Gears are artifacts created by God, and granted to humans or part-humans. Many became figures of note in history. Others worked quietly behind the scenes. Some allow for extra strength. Others can heal or defend. Of those Sacred Gears, a number had Dragons sealed into them. Not the creatures you have encountered before, but beings of immense power.
"And let me guess, you're one of them?" Harry asked sarcastically.
Good, so my host is quick on the uptake, the voice said with an equally sarcastic lilt. And with a sharp tongue. If you want further proof, I can direct you to manifest my Sacred Gear form on your body. It is not unlike the means of summoning a Patronus charm, but instead of focusing on a happy memory, you must focus on a sense of power, summoning as much power as you can to your arm.
"Okay, creepy possibly schizophrenic voice, but if my arm gets taken over and tries to kill someone, I am going to find a chainsaw or an axe," Harry said.
My name is…
"Quiet, you," Harry snarked, before he decided, with an attitude of 'what the hell', to do what the voice said. After a moment, a crimson gauntlet with a green gem embedded in it former over his arm. He stared at it a moment, and then moved it. Well, it moved normally, with no signs that it was going to try and kill him or force him to kill others. "Huh."
Ahem. Allow me to introduce myself. Suddenly, Harry's vision seemed to be clouded by fire, and he was sitting on a vast, dark plain. Facing him on this plain was a massive, but magnificent-looking red dragon, its baleful eyes nonetheless peering down at him with intelligence.
I am Y Ddraig Goch, the Welsh Red Dragon, one of the two Heavenly Dragons! the dragon…no, Dragon announced. My spirit and essence resides within the Sacred Gear you bear, the Boosted Gear, after the forces of God and Satan tore me and my rival to shreds and sealed me away. Which means, Harry Potter, that you are now my new host, the Red Dragon Emperor!
After a moment, Harry muttered, "Great. I've got a Dragon sealed within me, and he's got a flair for the dramatic."
The Dragon chuckled, as the vision dissolved, and he was back in the room. Many Dragons have a flair for the dramatic. If you wish to address me, do so as Ddraig. Harry noticed that the green gem on the gauntlet pulsed with each syllable of Ddraig's speech, like the lights on a Dalek.
"Okay, Ddraig. So…you're the power behind this Sacred Gear. What's the catch?"
Hmph. Cautious, aren't you? Then again, given your life, I can't blame you. I was an impotent voyeur during that time. The Boosted Gear allows you to double your power every ten seconds. For example, after, say, three Boosts, your power will have increased eightfold. However, it can only do so up to the limit your body can sustain. Given physical training, you can increase this limit. I don't know what that limit is yet, as I would have to start Boosting to find out, but given that you're now a Queen, with your physical strength, endurance, speed and magical power brought to its full potential, I think it will be higher than many starting off. Of course, there are some elements of the Boosted Gear's power you would do well to avoid, like the Juggernaut Drive, but you won't need to worry about that for now. There is no other catch. As long as we have a cordial relationship, you may access my power whenever you need it.
"That sounds like a 'too good to be true' thing," Harry said.
Your caution is commendable, but the Boosted Gear is yours to command, Ddraig said. In any case, we have other things to speak of. Namely the Bael girl.
"I don't think we have anything to discuss, especially to someone I only just met," Harry said archly.
I disagree vehemently. I have been a passenger in your head for a while, unable to do more than observe. And unlike that soul fragment of Voldemort, I had a right to be there.
"Wait, what?!"
We'll discuss that at a later time. The soul fragment was destroyed when you were turned into a Devil, for which you should be grateful to Hermione for. Which brings me neatly to my point. I am ancient, Harry Potter. I have been sealed within the Boosted Gear for centuries, seen through the eyes and listened through the ears of many hosts. And a number of said hosts have been brought into the Peerages of Devils. Sometimes, the Devils didn't know about my presence until afterwards. Other times, they brought my hosts into their Peerages because they were aware of my presence. I'd like to think that I am a fairly good reader of people, if only by dint of experience. And I know that Hermione did not make you part of her Peerage out of malevolent intentions towards you. She did so because she is your friend. And before you start going on a teenaged temper tantrum, be quiet and listen to me.
Harry, who had been about to argue with Ddraig (and NOT have a teenaged temper tantrum, no siree!), reluctantly obeyed.
Good. Devils create Peerages for various reasons. Officially, they are servants, but in reality, they can run the gamut of roles. Some create them to have a coterie of slaves or even a harem. I don't object to the latter myself, as long as it's consensual, but not all Devils feel that way. Others do it as a form of small private army, and indeed, all Peerages are expected to fight on their King's behalf. And others create a Peerage as a group of friends and even extended family. I know that the Gremorys, Hermione's relations, certainly fall into that category. What's more, your servitude, as Hermione pointed out to deaf ears, only lasts for as long as you stay in lower ranks. You can earn your way to higher ranks of Devilhood. And being a Devil does not automatically make you evil, if that's what concerns you. True, there are many even now who fit the Biblical perception, but many are like humans. Hermione did this to you primarily to save your life. She CARES about you.
"If she cared, she wouldn't have kept the secret from me," Harry said sullenly.
Harry, you don't realise that wizards have the ability to read minds, to simplify it, Ddraig said. This is called Legilimency. Teaching you Occlumency, a means of protecting your mind, may have aroused suspicion from the wrong corners. Had a Legilimens picked up on her nature, they may have tried to attack her, or else call in the Exorcists of the Church. Exorcists are capable of not merely killing a Devil, but erasing them entirely from existence. Plus…she was frightened. Frightened of something like this happening. I'm not saying she should have kept secrets from you, but I can understand it.
"Great, I'm taking relationship advice from a Dragon stuck in a gauntlet," Harry snarked wearily.
Then listen. There'll be no more secrets between you, not now. Be her Queen, for both your sakes, not because you're her servant. But because you are friends. She saved your life not to exploit you, but because you are friends. You killed the Basilisk that petrified her, you saved Sirius Black together, she helped you last year training when nobody else would. Your friendship was NOT A LIE! Ronald Weasley may be your first friend, but Hermione is your best! Now, go out there and apologise.
Harry rolled his eyes, but he decided the Dragon had a point. Plus…he hadn't wanted to make Hermione cry. He'd just been so angry, understandably so, and…he hadn't been thinking clearly.
Those were his thoughts as he left the room, the Boosted Gear going back wherever it came from, and looked up and down the corridor. He found a woman dressed in a maid's outfit walking elsewhere. "Umm, excuse me, miss?" he asked.
She turned around to look at him. Silver hair framed inhumanly beautiful, if somewhat impassive features. Her silver eyes, the colour of her hair, glittered with curiosity, the sole animation in her face. "Yes?"
"Umm, I was wondering if you knew where Hermione was? I need to apologise."
The woman pursed her lips in thought. "As it happens, I was sent to speak to her by my King. Please, come with me."
Harry hurried after her. "Sorry, do you work here?"
"No. My King is one of Hermione's relatives. However, we are frequent visitors here," the woman said. "My name is Grayfia Lucifuge. I presume you are Harry Potter. I have to admit, I'm surprised it took so long for Hermione to bring you into her Peerage. She speaks highly of you."
"Probably wouldn't now," Harry muttered morosely. "We had an argument. A bad one."
"And? My King and I were on opposing sides during the last war. I eventually defected, long before he made me his Queen. Hermione is certainly a forgiving soul, more than others would be in her state. Our people do not look kindly upon miscegenation, especially between Devils and the Fallen." They finally came to a room, and Grayfia rapped on the door.
"Yes?" came the strained voice of Hermione.
"Hermione, it's me, Grayfia," Grayfia said, her voice and expression softening. "I've come to discuss your Queen. And he's come to apologise."
"Why am I a Queen?" Harry muttered quietly. "I'm a guy." Ddraig snickered in his head.
The door opened, and Hermione stuck her head out, and looked at Harry, her face streaked with tears, her eyes bloodshot. Then, simultaneously, the two of them said, "I'm sorry."
Hermione and Harry, after realising they had apologised simultaneously, devolved into nervous chuckles. It wasn't a great start to repairing their relationship, but it was a start all the same. And the real start of a venture into a new and different world…
CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:
So, Hermione and Kuroka have done some speculation, and Harry has learned of his partner. I wrote this brief frisson between Harry and Hermione in because Harry accepted his predicament a little too easily in Sympathy for the Devil, as many reviewers of that work pointed out.
Also, Ddraig speaking to Harry so soon is due to the seal placed on the Boosted Gear. Ddraig has been awake since, ooh, maybe Harry's first year at Hogwarts? But he couldn't speak to Harry due to the seal.
No numbered annotations this time.
