Calmy resting in his chair, for it would not do for these rustic, yet charming little Imps to see a member of a high-ranking Demon such as himself act like slouching teenager, Stolas allowed a small smile to cross his beaked features as he was introduced to the excited crowd.

"Welcome, I say welcome all to the Ring of Wrath's annual Harvest Moon Festival! To kick things up, we have the great prince Stolas here to usher in this here Pain Games!"

Taking the microphone from the slightly comical spokes Imp, the head of the Goetia Family could only chuckle as he looked out across the field of Imps.

"How kind of you Wackford. Greetings tiny Wrath Ring Imps! I hereby welcome you all to another year of celebrating the spoils of your labor that continue to feed the citizens of Hell!"

Blissfully ignore the glares and boos that his genius bit of praise had earned, Stolas's voice gained a touch of flirtatious excitement as he continued his little speech.

"I'm happy to kick off the start of these games that will challenge the toughest Imps to show their skill in dominance. Good luck to you all! Especially that sexy little one there. Yoo-hoo! Blitzy!"

Waving good-naturedly at his precious Imp, who sadly still preferred to reject such public displays of innocent affection, Stolas settled himself in for what was sure to be an interesting, and dare he say arousing display of macho Imphood.

The first event quickly proved to him that he was right in asking his darling little Blitzy to accompany him. Of course, it was somewhat unfortunate that his student's adoptive father lacked the same physical prowess that allowed his betters to traverse the obstacle course without difficulty, especially when some of the obstacles included the use of deadly sea creatures, but the majority of the Goetia's attention was on the taunt backside of his favorite Imp.

Said attention on grew in intensity as he watched his darling Blitzy compete in the second event.

It was unfortunate that the former circus performer found himself beaten by his equally skilled rival, but Stolas quickly put that out of his mind as he admired how enticingly helpless his favorite Imp looked as he was being restrained by those ropes.

The next event merely served to highlight the fact that while Blitzy was more than capable of performing solo, his true strength was revealed when working as a member of a team.

And even though the white-haired little one failed to pull his weight before once again falling victim to that ravenous, and surprisingly sadistic shark, Stolas nevertheless managed to get several discreet photos of his Imp using those deliciously taut muscles of his during the course of the rope pulling match.

But nothing could top the final event. While he would have vastly preferred this display of sportsmanship to be without clothing, or at the very least without shirts, the Goetia Prince greatly enjoyed the sight of his darling Blitzy getting absolutely filthy as he tried to wrestle his opponent into submission.

Though considering there were children in the audience, including his draconic student, whose father was again dogpiled by both his fellow Imps and the demonic shark, Stolas supposed that nude wrestling would have been in bad taste.

And while he hadn't been paying attention to the overall scores, focused as he was on his precious Imp, the lanky owl Demon was not in the least bit surprised when Wackford passed him the names of the winners before he went to address the cheering inhabitants of this charming community

"I say, I say, for the first year ever, we have a tie for winner of the Harvest Moon Pain Games!"

He couldn't help it. While his position ensured he didn't have to do something as plebian as announcing the victors of the Harvest Games, this year Stolas decided to get a tad more involved with the preceding's as he snatched the microphone from the top hat-wearing Imp.

"The winners are… Striker, aaaaand my darling Blitzy!"

Bowing with a particular flourish as the winners came up to the stage, fighting the urge to smirk as his favorite Imp reacted in embarrassment to the clear favoritism he was showing him, Stolas took a moment to cast his attention elsewhere before he bestowed the winners with their deserved prize, and in the case of Blitzy an affectionate congratulatory smooch.

His lover's Hellhound daughter, while clearly bored with the proceedings judging by her expression, which was oddly similar to what Octavia wore whenever he tried to share his own interests, nevertheless had not abandoned her post from the bleachers. And while she had refused to wear the rather amusingly oversized hand that his student had charmed to display the name of her adoptive parent, the fact that it merely rested at her feet instead of a trash can showed that she supported her father's efforts.

He was largely unsurprised to see that young Harry was sporting a look of disappointment, for both he and his mother had been rooting for the white-haired little one despite the rather obvious signs that he lacked the same physical skills as his competition.

However, Stolas was pleased to see that the pair of them were more than willing to offer comfort to the clearly dejected Imp.

Though he was mildly concerned that Harry was shooting a certain demonic shark a look that somewhat resembled Octavia's when she was being vexed by a particularly elusive, and tasty morsel.

But considering the boy's demonic nature, he wasn't too surprised. And since he was suddenly developing a craving for either sushi or grilled fish, he might just look the other way while Harry 'dealt' with the semi-aquatic creature.

If only because he sample the rather remarkable cooking techniques that only existed in the rural parts of Hell.

…..

While he appreciated his family's efforts to try and cheer him up, even if he suspected that Harry had another motive when it came to his offer of 'grilling up' the shark, Moxxie nevertheless still felt the need to put his own personal spin on his latest failure to impress his in-laws.

Who had chosen, not surprisingly, to root for both Blitzo and Striker rather than the Imp who had married into their family.

"Alright, so he has the physical advantage. But I'm better at other things. Like marksmanship, and…and singing!"

And as if to provide further proof that the universe hated him, Striker pulled out a guitar from nowhere and approached the now vacant microphone.

"I'd like to take this opportunity to sing a quick song I wrote just now, about me winning."

There were a couple of things Moxxie could have done at that moment.

He could have covered his face in a vain attempt to hide from the developing musical spectacle.

He could have taken a swig of the freely-provided local moonshine, which had sadly sparked his son's interest in 'grownup drinks'.

Though considering he had been curious about Blitzo and Loona's drinking habits ever since he came to Hell, he shouldn't have been too surprised at Harry's developing addiction. He could have done either of those things.

But instead, Moxxie settled for something that would have earned him a disproving glare from his wife if their son was still adjusting to living in Hell.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Watching with barely contained fury as he watched Striker serenade the cheering crowd of Imps, even after he kicked one of his squealing fangirls in the face, Moxxie felt his eyes violently twitch as their boss, who had somehow managed to escape the clutches of his overly clingy boyfriend, intruded on what had otherwise been a touching family moment.

"Isn't this guy great? Gotta say that I'm feeling really good about asking him to join the team. With his fighting skills and musical talent, we'll be a company to be proud of."

Turning towards his employer with a look that clearly stated that he was on the verge of yet another emotional meltdown, Moxxie was grateful that Harry had asked the question he wanted to ask.

"You asked him to join the team?"

Of course, Blitzo's answer to this question did little to soothe his already frayed feelings.

"Okay, first off Kid, it's MY company. So I don't really need to ask permission to hire new people. And secondly why not? He's got good reflexes, knows how to shoot straight, and more importantly, actually respects the amount of effort I've put into making this company. So later tonight I want you all to welcome him to the team."

Switching his attention away from his smiling employer so he could stare at the still-singing cowboy, Moxxie felt what little control he had over his emotions snap as Striker smirked at him as he sang his next line of lyrics.

"The super cool me, handsome guy. Moxxie go fuck yourself."

Tearing up at this latest bit of mockery, and having no desire to further 'unman' himself in front of his loved ones, even though he knew that his wife and son loved him unconditionally, Moxxie fled from the stands. If he had stayed even a few minutes more, he would have been treated to a sight that would have brought a smile to not only his face but also that of his family.

For like any loyal and loving son, Harry was more than willing to get back at the asshole who had tormented his father.

And while he would have greatly preferred to use one of the more…messy spells that would never be taught at Hogwarts, even if its Human creator suddenly found himself teaching defence against the dark arts instead of potions, two things prevented Harry from using the spell that would stain Striker's jacket with his own blood.

The first being that the Imp was employed by his grandparents.

Which meant that he would have to first seek their permission before he injured one of their employees. And considering the clear dislike they showed for his father, chances were they wouldn't give him the ok, despite the fact that they would probably praise him for protecting a family member.

The second reason had more to do with what he had learned during his numerous interactions with Malfoy, and the rest of Slytherin House was that it was more publicly acceptable to embarrass an enemy than it was to physically harm them. And even though this was Hell, where violence was an everyday occurrence, the young dragon Demon suspected that suffering a blow to his image would hurt Striker far more than a cutting spell to the shoulder ever would.

Taking careful aim with his wand, Harry could only smirk as he watched his softly muffled spell do its job.

A shame that his dad wasn't there to watch the smug cowboy do a faceplant after his legs had been glued together.

Or listen to the crowd laugh at the Imp's sudden misfortune.

But since he had wordlessly signaled Loona to record the event before he cast the leg locker curse, Harry wasn't too worried about this. Even if Striker was currently giving him a look that could rival the look Stella used to shoot Blitzo during the early months of his apprenticeship.

Still, even if the cowboy Imp wanted to hurt him, he would have to get through his parents, grandparents, Loona, and the squad of Imps who had helped him to understand that having uncles and aunts was a good thing.

For even if Sallie May was a pain in the ass, either to him or his father, there was no denying that when push came to shove, she would be there to back them up with a shotgun.

…..

Despite his current feelings of murderous rage, Striker couldn't help but be impressed with the skills of the walking handbag.

Yes, he had needed the help of the hound to finish off that hog, but he had shown no fear in jumping into the mud pit, and no hesitation in ending the swine's life. Despite sharing no blood with the violence-loving clan he had hired himself to, and having that white-haired wimp as a father figure, he was nevertheless accepted as a full member of the Imp family.

With all the rights and privileges that were afforded to the favorite youngster.

And perhaps the most impressive of all, the kid had managed to do something that he had thought himself more or less completely immune to.

He would still have to die, painfully and slowly now that he was made the laughing stock of a bunch of inbred weaklings.

But considering all that the kid had managed to accomplish in his short life, Striker was willing to do something that he rarely did for any of his targets, respect.

Perhaps if he had enough time, he would skin the kid in order to have something to remember him by. Of course, given his age, he wouldn't be able to get enough good dragon leather to make more than a belt and maybe some boots, but the fact remained that he would always have solid proof to show what happened to those that pissed him off.

But while he would like nothing more than to wrap his hands around that lizard's throat, or skinning him alive, he had more important things to do. With the family helping to prepare for the night's festivities, the house was empty.

Which meant now was the perfect time to ensure that all his tools were in working order to take out that Imp obsessed Goetia.

However, as he silently made his way up the stairs, he noticed that his bedroom door, which he always made sure to close before heading out, was open.

Silently drawing his pistol, for there was a very strong possibility that the intruder was the little reptilian bastard that had humiliated him, Striker felt his sneer turn into a smirk as he heard the voice of a certain white-haired wimp.

"A genuine carmine crafted blessing-tipped rifle! How… How in the fuck did he get one o' these?!"

Leaning against the door frame, the taller Imp could only snicker as he made his presence known.

"Why don't you ask me, little dude?"

Enjoying the way Moxxie all but jumped at the sound of his voice, Striker felt his smirk slightly widen as he was 'interrogated'.

"Shit! W- Why do you have this... mister?! You are aware this kind of weapon can kill—"

"Demon royalty?"

Rolling his eyes at the nervous nod he received, Striker flicked away his trademark wheat stalk as he closed the door behind him.

"No shit. That's kinda the point."

As much as he hated to admit it, he was rather impressed that the white-haired weakling stood his ground. Though that feeling quickly passed when it became clear that it had more to do with stupidity rather than bravery.

"Okay. Well, I'm- I'm relatively concerned by your possession of this... I'm also glad my instant dislike of you has been valiDATED!"

Having no further desire to talk with the soon-to-be-dead Imp, Striker took great pleasure in thrashing the white-haired loser. Blocking the rather pitiful attempts to fight back, though he had to admit that if he had been a tad slower the lamp would have crashed into his head rather than his arm, Striker could only chuckle evilly as he felt the struggle slowly leave Moxxie's body.

"Pathetic. I hope your pet lizard puts up more of a fight. Because once I'm done here, I'm gonna go get me a new leather be…AAARRGHHH!"

Instinctively twisting his body in an attempt to ensure that his newest assailant wouldn't land a crippling blow, it was only luck that the first stab had missed his spinal cord, Striker barely managed to keep his attacker from going for his neck before he slammed his back into the wall.

Grunting in both pain and satisfaction as stared at Millie, especially since his little maneuver had managed to break her arm and render her unconscious, the taller Imp took great pleasure in kicking Moxxie in the head as he feebly tried to reach for his wife. Problem was, as satisfying as it was to put these two pests in their place, he now faced a dilemma.

While the couple was no longer in any shape to put a halt to his plans to take out the Goetia and the young firestarter, their absence would be missed once the ceremony began.

Which meant that he had to act quickly to not only hide the bodies but keep them out of the way long enough for him to complete his task. A shame that he couldn't kill them just kill since the stink of an unburied body would draw the immediate attention of the Hellhound and his secondary target, but if killing high-profile targets was easy, then he would have chosen a different career.

Perhaps if he played his cards right, he could still convince that former rodeo clown to team up with him despite the way he had treated his employees, but it was probably a long shot.

Cause while Blitzo might not give a damn about the lives of both the Kid and the flamboyant owl, it was clear that the hound gave a crap about the kid. And since his fellow Imp treated her like she was his flesh and blood, there was probably little chance of a partnership if he had to put down a pissed-off dog.

….

Happily munching on his snack, for even if there hadn't been enough time to properly season and grill it to his grandma's standards, he still enjoyed eating the predatory fish that had been bullying his dad. Harry quickly forgot about his food as Loona all but shoved her phone into his face.

"Check it out Kiddo. Only been on VoxTube for three hours, and it's already over forty thousand hits."

Smirking as he watched the posted video, which had been given the rather simple yet amusing name of Clumsy Cowboy, the young dragon Demon quickly found his vindictive smile morph into a frown as his canine friend helped herself to some of his evening snack.

But unlike his aunt, Loona at least had the decency to try and apologize for her bit of thievery.

Though he was pretty sure his parents wouldn't be too happy with her chosen method of bribery.

"Here. If anyone asks, you didn't get it from me. Got it?"

Quickly pocketing the bottle before anyone could get a good look at it, though his brief glance had told him it was one of the more common brands instead of something more noteworthy, Harry felt his smirk return as he voiced his agreement.

"Do you even need to tell me that? In all the time that I've known you, have I ever ratted you out?"

Pouting a little as he watched the Hellhound frown in consideration, the draconic wizard could only scoff as Loona named one specific example.

"Well, there was the time you told your parents that I let you watch a Hell produced movie AFTER I told you to run it by me before you told them."

"Yeah, but that's like the only time I did it."

"Still counts kid. Still counts."

If it wasn't for the small, but noticeable smile that was spreading across his friend's face, Harry would have probably flipped her off, even if it did run the risk of angering his grandma and Blitzo.

As it was, he merely scowled when Loona decided to change the subject.

"So how are things up at Pigzits? You get any grief for coming down here for the weekend?"

Nodding his head, the young dragon Demon could barely keep the irritation out of his voice as he listed the latest annoyances he had to deal with.

"Oh you know, just the usual. Inbred Nazi wannabes who continue to give me an excuse to damage their chances for reproduction. Greasy-haired sadists who express troubling attitudes towards children. And a frizzy-haired teacher's pet who thinks that she has the right to boss people around just because she memorized some books. Same old same old."

Earning a snort of amusement from the now-texting canine, Harry felt some of his good cheer return as Loona revealed some much-needed good news.

"Well, then it's a good thing some of my sources have come through. Of course, I did have to convince Blitzo to ignore these clients, not that it was hard considering they didn't have the money to pay us, but I should have enough intel to help you out with your…problem."

Nodding his head to show that he appreciated Loona's help, for in order truly torture Snape he needed to expand his knowledge with more than just the angry ranting of a formerly magical Sinner, the reptilian-eyed Wizard felt some of his good cheer vanish as his friend proved that she had one thing in common with her adoptive father.

The inability to do charity.

"That being said, I'm afraid I'm gonna need to charge you a little bit extra for this job. It's kind of hard to find one asshole's murder victims, especially since he wore the same mask and uniform as the rest of his little gang. You wouldn't believe how many times I thought I had a good lead, only to find that they had been killed by another member of the magical KKK."

Acknowledging her point with a small nod, Harry moved to ask what sort of payment would be satisfactory.

Only to be shocked into silence as Loona revealed what she had done to raise the necessary funds for his little revenge scheme.

"In fact, if I hadn't had the bright idea of pawning off some of Blitzo's figurine collection, I doubt I'd have half as much useful info as I do now."

Shocked by this gesture, and more than a little touched since it showed the lengths Loona was going to in order to help him, Harry lowered his voice before asking the relevant question.

"Who the hell would want to buy those things?"

The smirk he received was more than enough to convince him that Loona took a certain amount of enjoyment in that particular answer.

"Let's just say that I know a certain pop star that knows full well how much Blitzo will spend in order to get them back. Also managed to score us some VIP passes the next time she's on tour, but not sure if your mom will let you go considering the hoe-bag's role in your…disappearance."

Nodding his head in agreement, for his mom still blamed Verosika for his kidnapping, even though he had long since realized that the Succubus didn't have a choice in the matter. Harry felt himself frowning in consideration as the Hellhound gave the answer to the question he was going to ask.

"Anyways, since I'll probably make a killing selling some of her autographed shit, and some things that only the truly perverted would want, I'm only going to charge you some a couple of bottles of that wizard liquor you told me about. I'm thinking three or four bottles will do."

Judging that to be a fair price, even if it would be difficult for Tonks to help him out after the confrontation he had had with Granger, Harry once again opened his mouth to give a verbal response to his canine friend.

Only to be once again interrupted by something beyond his immediate understanding.

It wasn't the fact that his magic teacher was once again showing off some of his more impressive abilities. Though he conceded that for those living in Hell, seeing a full moon was a special occasion.

It was the rather odd sight of not only Loona's ears suddenly popping up, but also the irritated sigh she gave.

As one of his closest friends, Harry was able to quickly identify what that particular sigh meant.

"Let me guess. Blitzo is calling?"

Earning a curt nod from the less than thrilled-looking Hellhound, whose attention was now focused towards his grandparents' house, Harry decided to be a good friend.

"Why don't you stay here while I go see what's wrong? I mean, I gotta see if my dad is doing ok anyway. And checking to see what Blitzo wants isn't that much of a hardship."

Earning a look from Loona that clearly stated that she didn't really believe that last part, the young dragon Demon was nevertheless given a lazy shooing motion from the plaid-wearing hound.

He didn't really know what her adoptive father was calling her for.

But considering he could probably use this as a form of payment for her fact-finding services if Tonks refused to get him the necessary booze, it was worth it.

….

While he loved his daughter immensely, and never hesitated to make both her and other people aware of this, at that very moment Blitzo could only express his feelings towards Loona in a manner that almost everybody who knew her could agree with.

"Fuckin' damn it Loona."

Honestly, he wasn't sure which was worse. The fact that his daughter was currently displaying the type of work ethic that his employees had always complained about. Or the fact that the Imp who he had developed quite the crush on, before finding out that he was trying to kill his avian sugar daddy, was snickering as though he had just told the funniest joke in existence.

"Now that's a crying shame, boss man. The only thing worse than a useless bitch is a disloyal one. Shame you didn't take me up on my offer. Could have shown you how to properly train that mutt of yours."

While still annoyed with Loona's tardiness, Blitzo would still defend his canine daughter with all the intellectual maturity that he was capable of.

"In your wet dreams, you honky-tonk GOAAAAT!"

Thankful that he had managed to catch Striker off guard with a simple sweep to the leg, which coincidentally disarmed the now tripped-over cowboy, the former circus performer readied himself for a good old-fashioned fistfight. And with Moxxie ensuring the rifle was out of the way, that's just what he got.

Of course, given that Striker had already suffered a couple of stabs to the back, Blitzo knew that he could eventually win if he simply played for time. But as every denizen in Hell knew, an injured beast could be just as deadly, even more so, than a regular one.

And if Striker was feeling the pain of his wounds, he sure as hell wasn't showing any signs of it.

He matched every blow, whether it was with a fist or the tail, and managed to remain close enough to prevent Moxxie from getting a clear shot. Which was enough to make the gunslinger Imp act like he was still in control of the situation.

"You know I still think it's embarrassing. You're wastin' a lot of potential Blitzo. relyin' on a weak little…GAHHH!"

Smirking as his eyes caught the wolf-handled dagger that was currently pinning Strikers' hand to the wall, Blitzo quickly turned to give his daughter his gratitude for the save. Only to be reminded that she was not the only one in his company who carried canine-themed weaponry.

"What the fuck is going on here?"

Turning his attention away from the mildly intimidating wizard, whose appearance had understandably morphed into a slightly more feral form as he realized that his father had been in danger, Blitzo ensured that his pistol was firmly focused on his fellow Imp before he answered the question.

"What the fuck do you think it looks like? This grass chewing pig fucker was trying to kill not only us but also my boy….I mean our good friend Stolas."

Thankful that he had managed to correct himself before he said something he really didn't want to acknowledge, if only because of the expectation that it would disappear if he acknowledged the fact that he was in a healthy(ish) relationship, Blitzo felt his grip tighten as Moxxie revealed a piece of information that he had previously been aware of.

"And he wanted you out of the way as well kiddo. In fact, if it wasn't for your mom helping me out, he would have…"

"Wait what!? What about mom!?"

Ignoring the slight feelings of jealousy that this declaration caused him to feel, for it had been quite some time since Loona had willingly shown that type of concern for his well-being, the former circus performer felt his eyes narrow as Striker proceeded to mock his youngest employee.

"It's her fault really. I mean, she could have simply kept out of the way while I was suffocating her pathetic excuse of a husband. But while she did manage to get in a couple of decent blows, in the end, she was nothing more than a brief distraction, that was put down as easily as a…"

And just like that, the Kid went from barely keeping it together to proving once and for all whose son he really was.

If Millie were here, she would have been proud of the way the Kid used his now fully extended talons to tear into Striker's flesh.

Or how he used the rest of his knives to pin each of the Imp's limbs to the floor.

But just as the Kid went for the screaming cowboy's throat, with teeth that seemed to be dripping with some kind of acid, if the smoking drops on the floor were any indicator, the Kid managed to regain control of his senses.

Something which confused Blitzo to no end.

"Why are you stopping? A couple more hits and this gun-slinging asshole will be ready to start pushing up daisies."

Of course, the Kid had an answer to his question.

"Thought about it, but came up with something better. Something much more horrible than death."

Enjoying this sudden sadistic streak, even if Moxxie was shooting his now normal-looking son a look of concern, Blitzo eagerly motioned for a more detailed explanation.

And while he himself didn't see it as a problem, he also recognized that not many Imps had the same tolerance for crazy as he did.

…

I still can't believe you let him get the drop on you. We raised you better than that!"

Wincing as her mom put the finishing touches on her bandage, Millie managed to steady herself on her thankfully temporary crutches before she defended herself.

"It's not my fault Ma! He was slippery!"

While her protest managed to earn matching nods of agreement from both her husband and son, her dad made it plain that he was on the side of her mother.

"No excuse honey. You've been taught since an early age how to deal with larger opponents. But you still failed to take Striker down DESPITE getting in the first blow."

Hanging her head in shame, since she did in fact have the perfect opportunity for an instant kill, which she failed to take since the sight of Moxxie being suffocated to death caused her to see red, Millie quickly sported a smile as her husband came to her defense.

"Excuse me, but are you two forgetting that the only reason why that asshole was in a position to hurt Millie was that the pair of you decided to hire him on?"

Flashing Moxxie an encouraging thumbs up from behind her parents back, for with Harry in their line of sight she was the only one that could cheer him on without it appearing that he needed support to show a bit of backbone, the black-haired Imp could only watch as her husband continued to berate her parents.

"Because of her actions, not only did we foil an attempt to assassinate a Prince of Hell, a crime that carries quite the heavy penalty for anyone even remotely tied to the killer, but we also stopped an attempt to kill your…I mean MY son. And you all might go on about killing things with one's bare hands, but even the most talented fist-fighter can be taken out by a sniper. So maybe, just maybe, you wanna treat your daughter like a hero instead of admonishing her for allowing her emotions to get the better of her."

For a moment, nobody said anything. But said moment quickly passed as Loona decided to voice the question that was probably on the mind of nearly everyone present.

"Damn Moxxie. When the hell did you grow a pair?"

While the sight of her canine colleague praising Moxxie was surprising in its own right, her father's reaction was far more shocking.

"I…suppose you may have a point. Minor though it may be."

The sight of her dad curtly nodding his head was quickly joined by her mom's own grudging words of admission.

"Yes. I suppose that with you always around our daughter, we don't have to worry as much about our grandson's health. He shows exceptional potential for his age, but he still has a way to go before he's an unstoppable killing machine. Even if nearly killing Striker shows that he has made great progress towards that goal."

Knowing that was probably the best apology her parents were willing to give, for even if they couldn't dismiss Moxxie's recent display of backbone it was evident that they still didn't like him as their son-in-law, Mille was grateful for the change in topic. Even if said topic both amused and disturbed her.

"Speaking of Striker, are you sure that it wouldn't be better to simply kill him? I mean, I trust my daughter not to let him get away, but sooner or later that two-faced bastard is gonna try and break loose. And IF he succeeds he'll be wanting to get revenge."

Millie wasn't sure which emotion to feel as she stared at her son's expression.

It could have been pride since Harry bore no trace of fear on his face. Or it could have been concern since it was her job as a mother to worry about the well-being of her child.

But as an amused, yet somehow disgusted expression spread across his face, Millie decided to settle for something close to satisfaction as Harry made his opinion known.

"I wouldn't worry Grandma. Considering the…situation I put him in, I doubt he'll be in any shape to do me, or anyone else harm ever again."

…

His screams muffled by the red ball he had been forced to wear ever since he had regained consciousness, for the first time in years Striker dearly wished he had chosen a different profession.

It wasn't because the injuries given to him by that reptilian brat failed to heal properly.

Nor was it due to the fact that his employer would be enraged to discover that he had not only failed his mission but had also lost a valuable piece of divine weaponry.

No, his current feelings of hate-filled frustration stemmed from the fact that his 'nurse' was once again ready for him.

"Oh now stop that hollerin' and blubbering. You know that nephew of mine magically soundproofed these walls. So the only one who's gonna see your manly tears is little ol' me."

Doing his best to shoot a venomous glare towards his masculine-sounding tormentor, something that was rather difficult to due since his right eye was nearly swollen shut from the last time he had given her lip, Striker released an involuntary whimper as Sallie May disrobed to show her latest…outfit.

"Well cowboy what do you think? I mean, I had to make some 'adjustments' in order for it to properly suit my body type, but I think I manage to pull off the look rather well."

He wasn't exactly a prude when it came to sexual acts, even if it had been some time since he had lain with a member of his kind. But the sight that greeted him, instead of inspiring his little cowboy to come to attention, was enough to almost wish that his reptilian target had gone for the killing blow instead of a mere knockout.

For while there was nothing wrong with the way the black leather showed off his captor's lithe body, the rather obvious bulge in her pants made him suspect that this time it would be his ass in the air instead of hers. But as fate would have it, he was given a few minutes reprieve.

Though it wasn't much of one since Sallie May decided to answer the phone that had previously been amongst his hidden weapons collection before the clown and vermin had ransacked it.

"Hello?"

…..

Grunting in appreciation as he took in the image that was currently being displayed on his phone, for it was very similar to the kinky shit he had done only a few years ago with his lover, the frowning Demon focused on the tied up cowboy as he asked the only question that really mattered to him.

"Is the job finished?"

Feeling his anger rise as Striker slowly shook his head, and ignoring the fact that his companion had decided to take a break from her usual hobby in order to peer over his shoulder, the enraged Demon made his displeasure clear.

"When I first hired you, I thought I made it very clear what I wanted to happen. I want those two pricks dead. I didn't care who you had to go through, YOU WERE TO MAKE IT HAPPEN!"

He wasn't sure which was worse.

The fact that he wasn't there in person to punish the lowlife Imp for his failure. Not to mention the leather-wearing hermaphrodite that had hung up on him.

Or the fact that the one Demon he trusted enough to watch his back had the sudden urge to finally interfere in his revenge scheme.

"Oh, don't be so hard on him Voxy. I mean, it's not like this is the first time your plan to punish Stolas and that little cutie hit a road bump. Don't get me wrong I want to get some payback for what they did to Val too, but Striker is still alive to inform you of his failure. Which is more than I can say for the others."

Shooting Velvet a glare in order to silently tell her that her commentary was not appreciated, Vox took a moment to consider his next move.

It would be stupid to launch another attempt on the brat and feathered prince right after the last one had failed. Especially since he had made sure that Striker was completely in the dark about his identity. This meant that even if Stolas found a way to break the magically binding contract that forced anyone who signed it, be they Imp or Overlord, to keep their mouths shut, there was no way to trace this failed hit back to him.

But at the same time, one of his targets would be inaccessible until he came back to Hell.

He still had no idea how the brat got the mojo to block any attempts to track him down when he was in the living world, for even the wards surrounding the Goetia bunker had been unable to keep him out, even if all he could do was traumatize the brat by turning on a previously shut-off television set.

But perhaps he was overthinking things.

If he got rid of Stolas, the one responsible for luring Val away from the safety of his friends, the kid would lose his most powerful protector.

Perhaps he was looking at this the wrong way.

If he wanted to get rid of Big Bird and the little lizard, he had to focus his attention on the little people that surrounded them.

It would be difficult, especially since he had lost a good deal of influence since Val was no longer around to help him out, but the electronic Demon was confident that in the end, he could pull it off.

All he needed was time, patience, and the opportunity to present itself.

…..

AANNNNND that's the end of the Festival arc.

Next chapter will just wrap up what happened at Hogwarts during Harry's weekend in Hell, then…will need to decide on what to do next since I am unsure if I want to do Episode 6 or something else.

And yes, after all this time, we not only get a confirmation that Valentino is in fact dead, but that the one who wants Harry and Stolas dead is the Radio Demon's more modern rival Vox.

This was ALWAYS my intention, even hinted at it a little during Harry's first extermination day when he suffers a mini panic attack after a tv came on showing footage from the last years genocide. Reminder that this was both why and how I was able to incorporate the song Stolas sung to a young Octavia. Hopefully this still managed to surprise some people, while satisifying those who wondered.

Having Vox as a villain in this story will also help to ensure that Hazbin characters, and some past Helluva characters make another appearance in this story. So look forward to that.

Now as for Striker's fate following his failed assassination, I think it works. For a character like that, humiliation/being the toy of Sallie May, is worse than death.

Anywho….once again big thanks to StarDustDragonknight and Darkscythe Drake for their efforts in helping me with this story.

Plz review. No flames.

Til next time.