CHAPTER 4:

RESPONSIBILITY

Raynare stood to attention in Lord Azazel's office after the man called her there. She was so excited! While the times when the man she held a torch for, ever since Slytherin used her and left her, actually noticed her existence were admittedly few and far between, moments like this made it worthwhile.

"Harry has agreed to stay here with us for the time being," Azazel said, steepling his fingers as he sat behind his cluttered desk. "Admittedly, I reckon it's because he wants to ensure he's alive and well rather than anything to do with him wanting to join us in earnest. But even staying with us for that period will prove to be valuable for the Grigori. Given that he's a hybrid of Ddraig and Albion, and a miraculous one at that, that data alone is priceless."

"And forcibly conscripting someone who is a hybrid of the two Heavenly Dragons is a Bad Idea," Raynare mused. "With that kind of power, God knows what kind of mess he could make of the Grigori. If the Devils had found him and used an Evil Piece on him, he'd become a Stray PDQ."

"Maybe, though if it was someone like one of the Gremorys or Sitris, or one of the better branches of the Baels, they might've calmed him down enough to prevent a rampage," Azazel said. "I will be obligated to tell the Devil Kings and Heaven about this. We had to repair the damage that allowed Harry to fall into Ddraig and Albion's tomb in the first place, lest some idiot wizards or worse get the bright idea to copy Harry. I know for a fact that the British Unspeakables were sniffing around. If Harry ever got recaptured by the British Ministry, no doubt they'd petition to vivisect him rather than have him chucked through the Veil again."

Raynare wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Barbaric, inbred morons," she sneered. "So, what do you intend to do about Potter, Lord Azazel?"

"For now, he will be a guest of the Grigori, and that's not a euphemism," Azazel said. "While he is aware that his movements are limited, that's by dint of him being a convicted murderer, and I intend to let him out into the human realm under supervision. He is not our prisoner, or a guinea pig, or an asset. However, he still needs someone capable to keep an eye on him. So, as of today, I'm extending the stand-by status of your cell. And that means you and Mittelt are assigned to be Harry's handlers."

Raynare blinked. Lord Azazel was putting this responsibility on her shoulders? She wasn't sure what to think about it. On the one hand, this seemed like glorified babysitting, but on the other hand…well, she did owe Potter a personal debt for helping her, and he seemed pleasant enough. Better than most.

"You honour me, Lord Azazel," Raynare said.

"No, I am testing you," Azazel said, his tone more serious than usual. "I've heard whispers of your discontent, Raynare. I know you enjoy seduction and assassination missions, but you hunger for advancement, to be noticed. You don't understand what the responsibilities are needed for command, at least at the positions you covet."

Raynare bit back an angry retort. Azazel was one to speak of responsibilities, when he was a soft coward who would rather negotiate than take the fight to the enemy, to say nothing of him lazing around and playing video games when he wasn't obsessed with tinkering with Sacred Gears. She didn't trust herself to say anything, so she waited for him to continue.

"Keep in mind, your goal is not to persuade Harry to join the Grigori, at least directly and overtly," Azazel said. "Pushing him too far in his current state is ill-advised, for the reasons you stated earlier. And using your usual seduction MO will backfire if it goes wrong. But he already has a good impression of you and Mittelt. Continue that good impression. Even if he doesn't end up joining us, it means that we have one of the most powerful beings, potentially at least, more inclined to be our ally than our enemy."

Raynare nodded. She was willing to concede Azazel's logic in that regard. Forcing or seducing Potter to join the Grigori could backfire badly, whereas the soft sell, even if he didn't join, meant they had a potential ally, one whose ability could rival the Longinuses in power. And she needed a distraction after Nyder's betrayal. "Then I accept this task, Lord Azazel. I'll ensure Potter has a favourable opinion of the Grigori."

"Good. Just tone back your usual vitriol about the Devils and Heaven, though. Stray Devils and ones like Riser Phenex or the Old Satan remnants, well, you can bash them all you like. But I've already told Harry something about the Devils and their leadership, as well as the Evil Piece system. Make sure Mittelt realises this too."

Raynare barely avoided rolling her eyes at Azazel's admonishments, but she did have a pertinent question. "Why us two, and not the rest of my cell as well?"

"…Dohnaseek and Kalawarner are more…violent, and leaning more towards the Fallen Supremacy ideologies infest the Grigori," Azazel said. "Mittelt, however, is more familiar with the history of Magical Britain, while you…leaving aside your desire for advancement, your work on seduction missions is superlative, meaning that you can rein in your darker impulses. Besides, if you manage to make a new friend of Harry, it's only a good thing, for you, for him, for me, for all of Grigori. But if you do become friends, Raynare, for fuck's sake, don't ever betray him. I get the feeling you'd live just long enough to regret it."

"Lord Azazel, I'm not a child, nor am I an imbecile," Raynare said in a tight voice. "The only reason I would betray him is if you gave explicit orders. If he really is a hybrid between Ddraig and Albion, anyone who pisses him off is fucked, and not in any remotely good way. I'm sure you can agree that both of us would prefer to stay alive. That being said, what about Vali? If he catches wind of this, he may decide to challenge Harry, and that could be a disaster."

"I've already spoken to him via comms, and he's agreed to hold off on fighting him, for now. He'll probably want a spar later on, but he actually wants a challenge. Harry's powerful, but he's not quite on Vali's level…at least under normal circumstances. Of course, if he uses some sort of Juggernaut Drive or just plain goes berserk…the only limits of the Boosted Gear and Divine Dividing's respective Boost and Divide abilities is the wielder's own. And people break their limits when angry or desperate. Harry's potential scares me. We already believe him to be Longinus-level at the bare minimum in terms of potential. That being said, don't treat Harry like a ticking time-bomb. Treat him with due caution and respect, true, but don't act as if he's a box of sweaty gelignite and a good sneeze will set him off."

"Understood, Lord Azazel. Is that all?"

"Yeah…"

The quarters Azazel had him sent to were luxurious enough, like a high-class hotel suite, practically a small mansion. If this was a cage, it was definitely a gilded one. He'd been brought here by the Fallen who looked like a teenager, Mittelt. The one with blonde hair and dressed in the frilly, Victorian-style dress.

Harry had spent the next little while exploring the quarters, trying not to linger in the bathroom. His reflection scared him, what with his new reptilian eyes, too much like Voldemort's, even if they were his familiar emerald rather than crimson. He eventually returned to Mittelt, who was watching some sort of anime show on the TV. "So, what do you think?" the girl asked, looking over to him, pausing the show.

"Azazel's pulling out all the stops," Harry remarked. "I'd ask why, but given what he said about the Heavenly Dragons…if there's even a grain of truth to them, I can understand it. I'm still angry about you guys not doing anything about Voldemort, though."

"…Look, like Lord Azazel told you, the Three Biblical Factions are at each other's throats," Mittelt said. "It's like how North and South Korea are technically still at war, but they're not exactly shooting at each other, only worse. All it takes is some fuckwit killing the wrong person, and we're back to fighting. Now, I haven't actually seen anything like the Great War, and honestly, I don't want to. I got enough horror stories from my parents before they got killed by some Stray they got careless around, never mind from Raynare. Oh, killing off some stupid Devils that get too big for their britches is always fun, but that's another matter entirely."

Harry frowned. "You're younger than I am, though. And they have you killing those monsters? I mean, the Strays?"

Mittelt chuckled. "Oh, it's sweet that you're worried about little old me, but believe it or not, I'm a little over thirty years old. I just look younger because I'm a Pureborn Fallen, born and raised outside of Heaven. It takes a while for us to mature physically. Don't worry, I'll be getting a growth spurt soon, you'll see."

Harry stared at the teenaged girl, or supposedly teenaged girl. Her actions were so close to being like a teenager, and a particularly foul-mouthed one at that, that he couldn't quite grasp her being in her thirties. Eventually, he decided to shrug. "Well, Azazel seems to think that I saw Ophis, and she apparently looks like a young girl, so…"

"Wow, you met Ophis and lived to tell the tale," Mittelt said. "Not many people are that lucky. The Ouroborous Dragon God is more powerful than almost any other being you could care to name. And I'm not exaggerating. Besides, you should see Serafall Leviathan, one of the Devil Kings. She looks like a young teenager, only, she's got great big tits, and yet, she acts like a kid. Ugh, and to think someone like her is the Devil in charge of foreign affairs."

"…Then how the hell did she get such a role?" Harry demanded incredulously.

"Because she's got the power to back it up, and for all her weird magical girl bullshit, she's a decent emissary when she needs to be," Mittelt said with a sigh. "Look, Harry, you think Dumbledore was a half-senile weirdo? He was tame by comparison to the weirdoes you have in the various supernatural factions and pantheons. You've been dropped in the deep end of this shit. Sorry."

"…At least someone gives a damn," Harry muttered. "Though once I'm settled down a bit, I want to contact my friends and loved ones at least. Azazel claims he's in contact with Remus, so…"

"Oh, right, the werewolf," Mittelt said, snapping her fingers. "I met him before, in passing. He was mourning you, poor sod. I'll bet he and the others will be glad to see you again. Though Lord Azazel told you about the current state of affairs?"

"I was revived before being chucked through the Veil, I know I was labelled a mass murderer and Voldemort's second coming thanks to Snape, his cronies and the Goblins," Harry sneered. "Azazel just told me what I didn't know, that my friends at least managed to escape."

"Yeah, well, the so-called former Death Eaters aren't having that great a time of it," Mittelt said. "The Purebloods have managed to hang onto their positions and fortunes for the most part, if they still had fortunes, but others have been ostracised. Snape, in particular, disappeared after a vicious duel between him and Professor McGonagall. Kingsley Shacklebolt is now the Minister, and he's been trying to push through various reforms. Managed to get a few through, actually. Helps that he has not only Augusta Longbottom, but some of the darker Purebloods who still hated Voldemort on his side. Not that that's much comfort to you, I'm sure."

"No, it isn't," Harry said bitterly.

Mittelt nodded. "Yeah, I get that. Believe it or not, there's a pecking order here too. Power of Fallen is denoted by the number of wings we have, but we also set store in our lineage. Fallen born outside of Heaven are considered beneath Fallen who actually Fell from God's Grace. Raynare treats me all right, I mean, we bicker a lot, but she's like a big sister to me. And of course, you have the half-breeds, like Nephilim. Lord Baraquiel used to have a Japanese lover, but she was murdered while he was on a mission, and their daughter was snapped up by Rias Gremory, the little sister of Sirzechs Lucifer."

"But why is she called Gremory, then?"

"Because Sirzechs assumed the title of Lucifer, he was born Sirzechs Gremory," Mittelt explained. "And just so you know, the daughter's refused to have anything to do with her father. She thinks he abandoned his family when they needed him most. From what I hear, Rias Gremory pretty much pampers her, so honestly, I couldn't give a fuck about her hate-boner for Fallen. But yeah, pecking order's a bitch down here. Though to be honest, the Grigori is more cosmopolitan than the Devils or Heaven. The Devils may use their Evil Pieces on anyone that catches their eye, true, but it turns them into Devils anyway, and some of them have the same Blood Purist bullshit as the wizards, while Heaven tends to stick to using humans to do their dirty work, just so they don't Fall from Grace."

"Joy. Azazel told me about that son of his, and that he gets Stray Exorcists around," Harry said.

"Yep. Sometimes, the Grigori feels more like a fucking circus. I just have to wonder whether I have to don any clown makeup…"

They'd passed the time afterwards making some small talk, and Harry was reassured by how casually the young Fallen was with him. She certainly didn't act like a fangirl, despite how much she knew about his life. However, they soon heard the door open. "Oi, I'm here," Raynare called out.

Harry turned from where he sat on the lounge, only to notice that Raynare had changed her outfit, thankfully. True, the practically painted-on jeans were flattering, and the leather jacket suited her, though the T-shirt with the word 'Peccavi' on it was a bit odd(1). Still, it was the same beautiful, if sardonic, face framed by long black hair, her violet eyes watching him. And the T-shirt was straining to hold back her bust much like that dominatrix outfit she wore earlier had done.

On his staring, she said, "What? I wear this when I'm off-duty. That was my battle outfit, one I can reform easily by magic, okay? This is my casual outfit."

"It looks good on you," Harry admitted honestly.

Raynare seemed a little taken aback, before smirking. "Potter, it'd be harder to find something that doesn't look good on me."

Mittelt rolled her eyes. "Harry's just amazed that you aren't flashing your udders in his face."

"Take that back, Washboard!"

As the two Fallen degenerated into arguing, Harry had to wonder, had he made a mistake staying here after all?

CHAPTER 4 ANNOTATIONS:

Believe it or not, Harry, the answer is no.

1. Peccavi is Latin for I have sinned. Fitting for a Fallen Angel to have that as a T-shirt motto, no?