Harry Potter and the Infernal Pact
All rights reserved by J. K. Rowling.
After Wormtail's escape all of Harry Potter's dreams of a nice home with Sirius are shattered. A pact with the devilish Myrana offers him salvation, though with the price of damnation. However, things don't go quite as planned with two souls to sell. Be witness to Harry's journey with the powers of the hells and a new fiendish companion at his side.
It was a misty night in Little Whinging. Barely anyone was out on the streets; next to no one looked up at the cloudy night sky, and absolutely no one saw the colorful bird that didn't quite belong there. The bird flapped its wings and soared through the air, right over the houses of Privet Drive, and finally landed on a windowsill of Number 4.
The bird tapped the window with its large beak until it was opened by a boy with a messy mop of black hair and round glasses. He took a step back as the bird jumped into his room and quickly retrieved the letter that was tied to its leg.
"Help yourself," said Harry as the tropical-looking bird eagerly drank from the water bowl attached to Hedwig's cage. Thank Merlin she was out hunting tonight; otherwise, she might have made a fuss about it.
Harry sat down on his bed and ripped the letter open. He smiled weakly as he read Sirius' handwriting on the parchment.
Dear Harry,
I hope you're doing well over there. Ah, who am I kidding? The Dursleys are probably still insufferable, but I know you'll manage. You know I can't really tell you where I am, but know that I am safe for now. The Dementors probably won't come knocking this far south.
Harry paused to look at the vibrantly colored bird that had now settled on his shoulder. He hoped it meant that Sirius was somewhere nice and sunny for once. Quickly, he resumed reading the lines.
You know I am still trying to figure out a way to track down the rat. It's hard, but I have heard of wizards in other countries with exceptional tracking skills. And with enough bribery and threats, who knows? Just maybe someone could do it. I don't care what it takes, but I will do my best to get you out of there, Harry, once and for all. Watch out.
Padfoot
P.S.: Until then, keep threatening the muggles with my bloodthirsty vengeance if they step out of line.
Harry put the letter down and let out a sigh. Good old Sirius was still worried about him while hiding somewhere from the Dementors. If only he had been just a second faster, just a bit more ready to react when Wormtail changed into a rat and escaped.
Pettigrew.
Just thinking about the treacherous coward made his blood boil. Harry angrily rubbed his eyes and fell down onto the bed.
Just if...
He decided he would write the reply in the morning and was just about to turn off the lights when suddenly, a wave of intense heat hit him.
A ring of fire erupted on the dusty old carpet of his room, and Harry backed away, slightly panicking.
"Oh, Uncle Vernon will kill me," he groaned inwardly.
But all thoughts of his uncle's reaction vanished as a cloud of white ash flushed out of the ring of fire. The ash settled down and took the shape of a humanoid form.
Just a second more and the ash solidified into a woman of a height slightly taller than Harry and with a lithe figure. Intricate crimson robes adorned her body, with a revealing cut on the side that shed a glimpse at the alabaster-colored skin of her long legs.
On her arms sinuous tatoos writhed like dark serpents. Raven-black hair cascaded like a waterfall, framing her face of unearthly beauty. Her eyes, striking amethyst orbs bored into Harry's own with an alluring yet unnerving intensity.
However, it was none of these features that caused Harry to dive toward his table, snatch up his wand, and point it right at her face.
No, the reason for that was the pair of ebony horns, curling elegantly from her forehead and the pair of massive, bat-like wings that were protruding from her back.
"Ah, the sweet taste of torment lingers in the air," she purred and clicked her tongue.
"Who are you? What are you?" asked Harry as he slowly backed away from the strange woman.
The demonic-looking woman simply gave him a sly grin with lush red lips.
"Now, now, Harry, my dear, is that truly the way to talk to a lady in your bedroom, hm? And oh, what a bedroom it is..."
She turned around once, taking in all the details of Harry's small room. Just by standing there, her wings nearly filled one entire side of the cramped space, which had once been Dudley's second room, used to store all his old and broken toys. One eyebrow rose as she didn't seem particularly impressed.
"Answer the question!" demanded Harry more firmly this time, his wand itching dangerously closer to her eyes. He didn't quite have a plan with the right spell for this, but in the worst case he could just pull off a repeat of his experience with the troll and just stab her with it. Or maybe just an Expelliarmus right in her perfect face. He couldn't see any sort of weapons on her, but just blasting someone with the disarming charm had worked for him more often than one would expect.
She rolled her eyes and raised her hands in the air; though Harry couldn't tell if she was just mocking him.
"Tch, no need to get itchy with that piece of wood of yours or someone might get hurt. As for your questions, you may call me Myrana. I heard certain whispers, you see, and I thought that if I came to you we might come to an agreement of sorts."
"Stop speaking in riddles! What whispers and what agreement?" Harry asked impatiently with gritted teeth.
"Whispers of a certain rat. Whispers of certain bad dreams you have been having lately about said rat and its master. And what was it? Ah, yes, the location of said rat."
Harry sucked in a sharp intake of breath. He filed the information about her knowing his name and knowing about the strange dreams that had been plaguing him since the beginning of the summer holidays for later. Dreams of Wormtail scurrying around, doing tasks and kneeling before someone who could only be Voldemort.
"You know where Pettigrew is?" hissed Harry. His mind was swimming with the implications of this knowledge.
Myrana just smiled widely and gave a nod.
"So? Where is he?"
She just raised a finger and wiggled it in front of his nose. "Ah ah, Harry, you should be smarter than that. After all, everything has its price. And besides, what would it help if I just gave you the location? Would you just start walking over there and catch him like that? Please. And more importantly, what would I gain from just giving out knowledge like candy? Nothing. No, what I offer is an agreement, a pact so to speak. You get something and I get something in exchange, and everyone wins." She smiled at him like a cat that had just found a particularly fat mouse.
Harry grimaced. Of course she would want something. "So what exactly are you," he asked wearily, "some sort of demon or what?"
She answered, "Smarter than you look, but just close enough to still fail. I am a devil, a cambion to be exact, and you are fortunate enough for me to offer you my assistance with your little problem. I have all the answers, Harry."
"And what is it, that you want in exchange, Myrana?"
"First of all, I want you to stop pointing your wand at my face," she said.
Slowly, Harry lowered his wand, never taking his eyes of her, but kept it in his palm, ready to aim it at her at a moments notice.
"Good, now what do I want in exchange? Just a little thing – trifle, really. And it won't affect you in the slightest," she said and smiled wider than ever before, her curled lips revealing white teeth, some of them looking rather sharp and pointy. "All I want is your soul."
Harry immediately shook his head. "Do you think I'm insane," he asked, "and would just sell my soul for the location of Wormtail?"
He waved her off. "What's going to happen after you tell me, huh? Let me guess, Wormtail's just gonna be somewhere else? Would I even be able to catch Wormtail? No, by my luck I would sell my soul for nothing."
"And that's exactly where you are absolutely wrong, Harry," Myrana said and leaned in next to his head.
"I promise you everything. You will know where the traitorous coward that sold out your parents to their murderer in order to save his own skin is. I will grant you the abilities necessary to catch him so that you can present him to the Ministry of Magic," the she-devil whispered into his ear.
Harry gulped and felt his hands become sweaty while Myrana's sugary words and hot breath filled his ear and sent shivers down his spine.
Seeing that he was still hesitant, she got even closer, pressing her curves against his back. She smiled as he stood ramrod straight and whispered, "I'll even throw in an extra, if you agree. I will grant you the abilities necessary to get out of all these situations you always seem to find yourself in. And don't be a fool, Harry; you know that sooner or later you will find yourself in one of these again. You will need these powers then, you can trust me on that."
Imagine it - a life free of your relatives, free to be your own man. No one could oppress you anymore, and you could finally have the family you never had with your godfather. Live, talk, laugh with him every day and eat together at a table like a normal family. Didn't you always crave a family before anything else, Harry?
"But what about my soul?" Harry asked, fists clenched and shaking slightly, "How could I live without it properly? People say that those who get their souls sucked out technically live, but none of themselves is left, nothing but empty husks."
"Ah, you misunderstand," Myrana answered with a smile that looked so sincere and held up a finger as she explained to him, "My fiend magic is quite different than that of the Dementors. While they would suck out and ultimately consume your soul, I do not. Your soul would simply change ownership, but it would still be there."
"I would take it from your body, but would create a connection between your soul and the rest of you, allowing you your continued existence. This bond will also allow me to grant you parts of the power I gain from siphoning off the energies of your soul."
She walked right up to him and looked him deeply in the eyes. Purple fire met green as she asked, "So what will it be, Harry? A soul for a soul? Or will you continue to live this life that can barely be called living and condemn Sirius to eternal hiding? Don't you want to live like you were supposed to?"
Myrana held out a delicate hand in front of him. Harry closed his eyes for a moment and then nodded. "I want to live," he said and grasped her hand in his.
"Excellent!" she exclaimed excitedly and snapped her fingers. "Next, we shall save this on paper, official procedures must be withheld after all."
A piece of parchment and a feather had suddenly turned into solid form in midair in front of Harry.
The letters burned in a fiery red color and defined the terms she had already told him; but Harry's eyebrows rose as he read the next few lines.
"Why do I have to keep quiet about this pact?" he asked Myrana.
She said, "We can't let the existence of devilkind become public knowledge, can we? It will at least have the side benefit for you that your mind will be perfectly safe from anyone trying to extract knowledge from it."
"Wait, that's possible?" asked Harry in shock. His mind wandered back to all the situations where someone seemed to know something he did or knew, before he even told them about it. Specifically, one old headmaster, one greasy potions teacher, and the man with the most hideous face Harry had ever seen growing out of the back of somebody's head.
"Of course it's possible," she said incredulously. "My oh my, I have a lot of work to do to make you a decent pact partner yet. Oh, and by the way, try telling anyone else without my explicit permission, and your tongue will get stuck to the top of your teeth. So don't even think about trying it."
Harry grimaced but continued reading. "Side benefits and powers?"
"A little bit of mind sanctuary, as I told you, a little resistence to fire including the heat of the Hells, some heightened senses, the impossibility of placing tracking charms on you, the ability to travel using infernal portals and a repertoire of spells and magic unique to devils and anyone they deem fit to grant them, yada yada yada... I promise I will tell you the details later."
Harry nodded to himself. That sounded even better than ever – being able to freely travel wherever he wished and practice magic outside of Hogwarts.
Then he turned a little bit green. "What's this about me being turned into a lemure and getting sucked to the first circle of Hell?" he asked in alarm.
Myrana rolled her eyes. "Only if you were foolish enough to attack me," she said and patted his cheek, "which you I am sure will never try or ever succeed in doing, so you are safe; don't worry."
Harry held his breath and then quickly signed his name on the contract. He hissed as blood red letters formed his signature.
"Oh, sorry about that, but it has to be signed in blood," Myrana mumbled and placed her name right next to his on the dotted line.
"It is done," she declared and snapped her fingers, letting the contract vanish in a flash of fire.
"Don't I get a copy?" grunted Harry.
She just gave him a look and said, "No."
"Very well, then let's get started," she said and streched her fingers, "This might sting a little bit more than the blood quill."
Before Harry could even ask what would hurt, she started chanting in a language Harry had never heard. The longer Myrana chanted the deeper and louder her voice got until Harry felt his eardrums hurt with the intensity of it all. The shadows began to darken and the single lamp in the room flickered.
Suddenly rings of fire formed around Harry and Myrana, similar to the portal she had appeared through, though these formed a more complex pattern with additional lines of fire at the edges.
The flames grew higher and hotter until they started to touch Harry and pain, stronger than anything he had ever had to endure erupted in his body with fire coming straight from the pits of Hell. It burned through his veins and danced on his skin.
He tried to just grit his teeth, but after a few moments he could no longer hold his pained screams and gasps togther as the very essence of Hell touched his being.
Basilisk venom had nothing on this form of torture.
The boy barely registered the devil beside him breathing heavily too until she to began to scream with everything she had. Though in contrast to Harry Myrana did so with her arms wide open and with wide grin on her face while her eyes slowly began to cross.
Harry on the other hand felt the burning become less physical and more of a mental pain. Something was tearing and ripping at something deep within him, a part he had never even known existed. Additionally, he felt unimaginable pain radiating from his head, his scar in particular.
As quickly as the pain began it vanished without a trace. Harry gasped for air and clawed with his hands at something that could only be the scorched remains of the carpet. Only then he realized that he must have fallen on the ground while he was writhing in pain.
He looked over to Myrana only to see her shuddering with a blissful smile. Then she looked confused for a second, before her smile slowly faded and she scrunched up her nose as if she was thinking really hard about something.
An ugly grimace adorned her face and then shifted into anger. Harry could not even react as she gripped his neck with hands that had suddenly sprouted long, claw-like nails.
"What in the name of the Nine Circles of Hell is this? How have you deceived me?" she hissed angrily.
Harry tried to reach for his wand, but it had fallen somewhere else when he was writhing on the ground in pain.
With a bang the door swung open and the fat form of Vernon Dursley appeared on the doorstep to Harry's room.
"What is all this screaming about boy? I swear if you brought some of your freakishness into my house I will..."
The words froze on Uncle Vernon's mouth and his angry red face twisted into shock as he looked upon the form of Myrana with her horns and enormous wings on display with her hands around Harry's neck.
Uncle Vernon didn't even have time to be confused or scared; Myrana let go of Harry and hissed, "Not now, mortal!" and proceeded to blast the fat man with a beam of red and black light, which streamed out of her stretched hand. Vernon slammed into the wall behind him and collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
She turned toward Harry, her wings scraping against the walls as she hissed, "And you will talk now!"
Harry rubbed his throat and was relieved that she hadn't put her hands around it again. However, that didn't deter him from feeling rather angry at her. He decided to not worry about Uncle Vernon too much as long as he still seemed to be breathing.
"I don't even have a clue what you are talking about, you crazy devil," he spat back, just as agitated as her.
I am referring to the fact that I have not received your soul, but am still bound to you by our pact!
"What? How can that even be? And I swear I don't have anything to do with it. Do I look like I know how to give you just parts of my soul, so that you don't get it all? What would that even achieve?"
"It achieves that the so to speak main part of your soul still resides within you. I only got what is essentially a piece that was broken off. Two of them to be exact, with only one of them being part of your soul."
"What?" Harry couldn't make sense of any of this. Two soul pieces?
Myrana began to circle him, her intese gaze locked onto his eyes the entire time.
"Curious... You truly have no idea, do you?"
"That's what I said, dammit!"
"I got what adds up to an entire soul, theoretically speaking at least. I got a fragmet of a soul that was attached to you, yet wasn't your own. I also recieved a part of your soul, truly your soul. Put together they would be a complete again, but that's not possible as they are not from the same person."
"I had a piece of the soul of another in me?" Harry's stomach turned, as his mind wandered to the one person who always seemed to be the origin of all his troubles in life. Well not all, Malfoy also had his due, but in regards to the things that truly mattered it always came back to Voldemort.
"Whose was it?" he asked shakily, his vision feeling blurry.
"It looks like the Dark Lord you wizards fear so much you won't even speak out his name gave you much more than just that scar on your head."
"But it is gone from my head now? The soul I mean?"
"Yes, it is now in my possession, though the bond created by the pact we both signed still connects you to it."
"Can you sever the connection to it? I don't want anything from Voldemort being connected to me, one way or another."
"This is not an option. The pact clearly states that the soulbearer and the soulbinder... Wait, that's it!" she said, her eyes wide.
"What?" asked Harry. He seemed to asked that a lot tonight.
"The pact never dictated for the soul to be yours, only the one residing within you. Normally that would of course be identical to your own soul, but in your case, it was not. You were and still are a soulbearer, just not one with one, but with two souls."
Myrana sighed, then groaned, looked at Harry's face and then groaned again.
"Get up. Unfortunately this means you didn't violate the terms of the pact and I still have to uphold my end of the bargain and am still stuck with you. Ugh, what a mess."
Harry rose and quickly pocketed his wand. "Well but that's good, isn't it?" he asked.
"For you perhaps... I now have two weird broken soul shards and didn't even get the main part of your soul. But alas, now it's too late and there is no use in crying over it. But maybe I will still cry about having to teach you how to keep yourself alive in your fucked up little existence."
"Gee, thanks," Harry mumbled.
"Well, at least you seem interesting, more interesting than the rest of humanity at least."
"Thank you for the compliment?"
"Though that isn't exactly an achievement when you look at the competition."
"..." Harry simply stared at her.
"But I'll stick around. Ugh, I'll have to watch you sitting in that boring school of yours. Talk about a waste of time. Anyways," Myrana clapped her hands and chirped, "Uppity, we're going on a field trip to go rat catching!"
She waited until Harry looked at her expectantly. "Now, lesson one: Infernal portals. In order to travel through the flames of Hell, you first must shape them into the form of a circle around you. To create and shape infernal flames, feel them coursing through your body, call them to you, and command them to come forth. Now, search within yourself for them."
Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He tried to do as he had been instructed to, searching for the sensation of hot flames. And indeed, there it was – his magic, shapeless and resting, waiting to be channeled. But there was something else, something much more active. The hellish power felt like a raging river, constantly coursing through his veins, yearning to be used.
"Now hold onto that, and call it into reality. Be careful though not to lose control."
Harry concentrated and asked the power to come to him. He tugged at it and pushed, and the fire didn't resist as much as he expected. In fact, it easily spurted out and a little wave of flames scorched the ground of his room. The red flames wanted to grow and consume, but Harry barely managed to hold on to them.
"Control them, Harry, they have to obey you! Dominate them, do not lose control over them, or the hellfire will consume you," Myrana instructed and held out a hand, ready to step in if necessary.
Harry gritted his teeth and forced his will upon the writhing flames, commanding them to create the shape he wanted them to be. And the fire finally relented and shaped a circle around him, a little wobbly, but still a stable circle.
"Good, you are a natural. The last guy who tried that got incinerated," Myrana said happily, "I didn't expect you to manage it that easily. You are either very strong willed or very lucky to be born naturally good with fiendish powers."
"Incinerated?" asked Harry alarmed.
Myrana ignored him, but winked playfully and said, "Next you want them to burn a literal hole through space itself, burn another one at your destination, and let you travel through this passage created in reality. I will actually help you with this one, since you don't know where your final destination is. So keep your butt cheeks clenched, my dear. Let's go human hunting!"
She snapped her fingers and Harry's ring of fire expanded so that it encompassed Myrana. Then the flames rose up and swallowed them whole. The last thing Harry saw before he disappeared was the groaning form of Uncle Vernon through the door, who just seemed to regain his bearings and yell, "What the hell?"