While she knew that her husband's love of violence was far weaker than the other members of their little family, even if their son was far less open about it than she was, Millie knew for a fact that this didn't mean that Moxxie was useless in a fight.

Yes his tendency to think first shoot later had resulted in some rather awkward family get-togethers. Especially during the first year of their relationship when it was an open secret that her Pa and brothers were considering giving him the 'Fredo Treatment'.

But that was because her family never got to see what her husband could be like when he was sufficiently motivated to go on a killing spree.

Of course being the loveable pacifist that he was he would only shoot or stab a human if it was necessary instead of just for fun. But since time wasn't on their side, plus the fact two Imps and a tall goth girl were bound to be noticed eventually, Millie got to see her husband act like the bad ass she knew he was.

His shots with his silenced pistol were accurate as they were lethal.

His slitting throat technique possessed all the grace of a skilled surgeon.

And perhaps the most amazing of all, his attitude had cemented her desire to not only surrender the position of being the dominant partner for at least a week, minus any requests to peg him of course, but also maybe wear one of the outfits that he had saved from a previous job.

She had only worn it for him a few times since she never understood the appeal of being a 'furry'.

But with Moxxie currently leading the charge into what was clearly a secret government facility, albeit one that was clearly underfunded, Millie had no problem in indulging her husband's more unusual fantasies.

Even if his current display of leadership was drawing the respect of a woman who was partly responsible for their current situation.

"Nice shooting Fatty! Keep it up and I might even start thinking about admitting to people that we work together."

Keeping a tight lid on her less than charitable feelings towards the disguised Hellhound, for even if it had been her son's idea to sneak out of school to go to a bar, Loona had done nothing to dissuade him, Millie was proud to see that Moxxie didn't allow this rare display of flattery to affect him.

"How close are the next set of guards Loona?"

She had to give Loona credit for not lashing out at this bluntly delivered question.

For although it was obvious that she did not particularly appreciate Moxxie's tone, the canine woman nevertheless managed to remain professional as she took a quick sniff before answering his question.

"Close enough to hear a gunshot, but far enough to miss a body hitting the floor."

Her answer causing the white-haired Imp to hum in thought, for it meant that they still had the element of surprise since they had dispatched this latest patrol with knives, an ax, and some impressive displays of kung fu, Loona wasted little time in leading the pair of Imps deeper into the facility.

For even if these humans were ridiculously easy to kill, she couldn't remember the last time a security team had been fitted out with ninja weapons instead of guns, the fact that they were imprisoning both Harry and Blitzo meant that they couldn't waste any time.

For while she loved the boy to death, and greatly admired the Imp who had started his own independent killing business, Millie knew for a fact that neither of the two would ever be a model prisoner.

Which meant that they only had a limited time to pull off a rescue before these human meat bags got tired of the constant barrage of insults that were no doubt being hurled at them by her son and employer.

For even if the relationship between the two was tense due to Harry's deepening friendship with Loona, Blitzo was still something of a mentor to the young Wizard.

He got his love of violence from her.

His weapon skills from his daddy.

And his fighting and snarking skills from Loona.

But when it came to annoying people who had managed to get on his bad side, there was no better idol than Blitzo.

…

Though he knew that many people in his life would love to be in his current situation, even the winged assholes who continued to work for his 'salvation', in truth Harry would have traded everything to escape his current situation.

It didn't matter that this cloud-filled realm was filled with every type of weapon he could think of. Not to mention that each and every shooting weapon seemed to have an infinite supply of ammo.

Nor did it matter his magical control had reached a level that Stolas had claimed would take another couple of years to fully master.

No. What mattered was that he was now confronted with a series of foes that not only refused to die, despite the amount of damage he managed to inflict on them, but also gleefully voiced all of the insecurities that he had long since buried.

"Even amongst freaks your still unnatural Boy!"

"No matter how hard you try no one will ever love you!"

"Your weak Potter! No amount of training can change that!"

Of course after each insult he had wasted no time in killing his so-called relatives in every way imaginable.

Personally, his top three moves were blowing Petunia's brains out, using his wandless magic to crush Dudley's windpipe, or shooting lightning out of his wand or hands to make Vernon resemble the burnt tub of lard from that day walking vampire series.

But since the death of one Dursley resulted in the rejuvenation of another, the most Harry could hope for was a small reprieve before he was once again forced to listen to the type of mockery that had shaped his early childhood.

"Pathetic. Even with all your so called powers you still can't win Potter!"

"Your nothing but a waste of life."

"Even your parents knew that death was better than living with a freak like you."

Gritting his teeth at that last one, for it brought up the memory of the time he had foolishly asked why he was living with the Dursleys instead of with the people who bore him, Harry pointed his wand at the latest version of the female Dursley, and uttered a spell that would have earned some punishment if Stolas learned of his actions.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Smirking as he watched the green jet of light hit the horse-faced woman right in the face, Harry felt his momentary flash of triumph morph into one of shame as he heard the disappointed tones of his mother.

"Now sweetie what did we tell you about stuff like this?"

Not bothering to turn around as he stared at the ground in disgrace, Harry felt himself flinch as he felt a familiar hand squeeze his shoulder.

"Your mom's right son. We told you can't fight battles like this on your own."

Preparing himself for further rebukes, for in all of his nightmares his parents would continue to chastise him before eventually bringing up the idea that adopting him might have been a mistake, Harry felt his eyes widen as his mother handed him one of her many pistols.

"When dealing with monsters, you ALWAYS get your family to back you up."

Raising his head until he was staring into his mom's smirking features, as well as his dad's encouraging grin, the eleven-year-old wizard soon sported a bloodthirsty smile of his own as he proceeded to do something that never failed to bring him happiness.

Killing people who really deserved it with those who loved him as one of their own.

…..

While it was true that he was no stranger to drug-induced hallucinations, Blitzo had to confess that this one was perhaps the darkest, and most soul-crushing one he had ever experienced.

If only because he was confronted with one undeniable truth that he always tried to run from.

He would never be able to have a loving relationship without doing something to bring it to an end.

And each manifestation of his romantic partners, both past and present, served to only highlight this by reminding him of what he did to bring an end to what had previously been a happy relationship.

For Fizzaroli, it had been his jealousy at his talent and popularity as a circus clown that had caused him to spew a shit storm of insults that had caused his fellow Imp to end things after he had revealed he had been offered a business deal by one of the personifications of Sin. He only found out later that Fizzy had been trying to include him in the deal so that they wouldn't be separated.

For Verosika, the end of their relationship had come about due to overhearing a conversation about how he was preventing her music career from taking off. Which in turn resulted in his impulsive decision to max out her credit cards, steal the car that they had bought together as a couple, and leave her with a massive hotel bill. And when she had tried to argue that she wasn't interested in going big time without him, he had brushed her off by claiming that she would gladly get on her knees or back for anyone that could give her a career boost.

Striker, while not having gotten passed the seduction stage in their relationship, merely called him a pathetic weakling for refusing to use set his ambitions higher than a noble's 'fuck toy'.

He had more or less weathered their constant barrage of insults, but when his latest 'romantic partners' finally made an appearance, Blitzo was reminded that no matter how hard he tried, he would never have a relationship where he didn't feel like he was an equal partner.

It was rather fitting to have the Goetia couple situated on a golden platform high above the tar-like ground. Not to mention the fact that one had to be on their hands in knees while climbing the pristine shining stairs.

And the chain around his neck, which was being used by Stolas to drag him closer to him, was yet another sign of his inferior status.

Stella' sneering expression had been something of a relief since it confirmed that she was only using him for sex.

But Stolas's possessive, if loving expression was a sign that he was nothing more than the beloved pet of a being that could kill him as soon as he got bored.

The realization was depressing, but far from surprising.

It wasn't like he had anyone in his life who could help him out of his predicament.

And even if he did, he would be the first to admit that he didn't deserve it.

…..

Taking a sip of her coffee, wincing as its taste was yet another reminder that D.H.O.R.K.S. was severely underfunded by their superiors, Two could only feel a sense of relief as she noticed that their captives were finally coming out of their drug-induced naps.

Motioning for One to get ready, for she knew that the best time to get information from an uncooperative captive was during those brief moments that followed an unconscious state, the blond agent felt herself growing annoyed when the reptile revealed something that had nothing to do with the infernal realm from where he came from.

"You know when we first met, I thought you were the coolest? Don't get me wrong, when you turned that gun on me, I was seconds away from pissing myself. But I thought that if I was going to die, then at least it was at the hands of someone that deserved to be viewed with respect instead of someone who believed they deserved it."

Ignoring the slight discomfort at hearing this, for even if the kid was Hell beast a child wishing for death was something that no one wanted to hear, Two was unsurprised to hear her partner release an irritated sigh of his own as the red-skinned one revealed his own insecurities.

"No surprises their Kid. I mean don't get me wrong, I totally understand why someone in your situation would want to have someone come along and end it. And I'm flattered that you'd want someone memorable to pull that trigger. But trust me, I am not someone you should look up to."

Considering the smart-ass comments the demon had made during their first integration session, Two had to agree that the clownish Hell spawn was a terrible role model for children.

Tuning out the developing conversation, even if it was oddly heartwarming to two argumentative beings come to an understanding, the female agent could only nod as One voiced an opinion that was undoubtedly shared by every agent in the room.

"This is getting us nowhere. At this point I say we just bite the bullet and call in a priest. It's probably the only way we'll verify if these freaks are in fact from Hell."

Unless they wanted to flood the place with holy water and see if their captives started to smoke.

But since that particular method was better off as a last resort, one more suited for putting an end to an escape attempt, Two nodded her head in agreement before access the building's private network.

"Agent Twenty Six. I need you go to these quadrants and bring Father Lilliman back here."

When she didn't get an immediate response, something that was sadly all too common since most of their fellow agents had been recruited for their faith in the afterlife instead of their competence, the blond agent quickly switched frequencies to get another lower-ranked underling to carry out her errand.

Only to find the same thing happen with the other agents.

Frowning a little at this development, for it was rather odd to have multiple agents ignore her at the same time, she moved to access the building's security network to discover what was preventing from responding to her calls.

But as she scanned the images that popped up on the tv monitor, her irritation quickly morphed into panic as she realized why no one was answering her calls.

They were all dead.

Some had been shot in head.

Others had been torn apart or bore other obvious signs of what had been the cause of their death.

She had cringed when she saw one of the agents bleeding from an area that indicated that his death had been far worse than a bullet to the skull or a severed limb.

But despite her shock at seeing this butchery, it was the final image that finally managed to spur her into action.

It was only after she managed to pull the fire alarm that she realized that she had effectively ruined any chance of gaining a confession from their bound captives.

But there was a spark of hope that they would still get the proof they needed in order to get the respect they deserved.

For everyone knew that evil creatures could not withstand the touch of anything that had been blessed by a servant of God.

Even if said creatures of evil were more irritating than outright malicious.

….

While Harry had expected many things to happen following the surprisingly insightful conversation he had just had with his bipolar employer, hearing him suddenly hyperventilate was not one of them.

Of course part of the problem might have been that the water that was currently soaking through their clothes had an oily texture to it. But since the wizard had been on countless missions that required a trip to the dry cleaners, he doubted that Blitzo's reaction was caused by his wet suit.

An assumption that was quickly proven to be somewhat inaccurate as the former circus performer continued to fearfully mumble.

"Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit!"

Clearing his throat in an effort to try and recapture the attention of the currently rocking Imp, Harry felt his confusion grow as Blitzo explained his reaction with a statement that he rarely used with sincerity.

"Your mom's gonna kill me for this! I mean she was already gonna beat my ass for letting you get captured. But letting this drizzling shit touch you? I doubt even Stolas would be able to protect me."

Briefly directing his gaze towards the rusty looking sprinkler, Harry hesitantly asked a question that would either prove that Blitzo had adopted his dad's special brand of anxiety, or that he had a right to fear the wrath of his violently protective parent.

"What…what is it Blitz?"

The answer he received was something that caused him to wretch in manner that he hadn't experienced since Vernon's equally obese sibling had forced him to clean the aftermath of one of the few times his so called relatives had decided to try what Marge liked to call 'ethnic food'.

"This is pedophile water Kid. And not just any pedo water. But the kind that comes from those who have an interest in 'getting it on' with their choir boys. If you get my meaning."

Nodding his head in disgust, even if they were his favorite type of target to kill, and perhaps torture if he could do it without his dad noticing, Harry felt his scowl morph into a frown as he voiced his confusion.

"Wait a minute. Are you saying there are actually conditions in making holy water? I thought that once you signed your life away to the Church, you got all the perks of being a servant of those winged pricks."

Hearing Blitzo give the same type of sigh he usually reserved for his dad whenever he required further information about a particularly dangerous mission, Harry felt a grateful smile spread across his features as another familiar voice answered his question.

"Actually from what I've been able to figure out is that any priest who harms an innocent, regardless of age or religion, they get their privileges revoked. Which means that any water they try and bless isn't hol.."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP MOXXIE!"

Normally he wouldn't be happy at hearing his mom agree with the usually expressed sentiments of his employer and best friend.

But since he was currently soaked with water that bore the touch of someone who was guilty of one of the few crimes that the Dursleys never committed against him, plus the fact that he was now being embraced by both of his parents, Harry decided to let such things go.

Especially since it was becoming clear that the building would soon be wet with something other than pedo tainted water.

"As heartwarming as this little reunion is, I have had too many emotions to deal with today. Soo what do you say guys. Let's FUCK THESE FUCKERS UP!"

Grinning in a way that wouldn't undoubtedly cause his schoolmates, and perhaps a certain stuttering professor, to wet themselves in fear if he ever flashed such a look at them, Harry gratefully accepted the weapon that was pushed into his hand by his ax-wielding mother.

Of course, he was fully capable of killing these ninja wannabees, who stupidly enough waited until they were all armed before swarming into the room, without the use of a firearm.

But since it had been some time since he got to kill something with a bullet, he would use this opportunity to not only ensure that his skills hadn't gotten rusty, but also further hone a combat style that he was determined to perfect

Cause while killing people with only one type of weapon was doable, the ability to use multiple weapons at the same time was not only more useful, but also badass.

….

Sighing to himself as he enjoyed the rather delectable aroma that rose from his carefully prepared cup of tea, Alastor allowed his ever-present grin to widen as he 'watched' the one sided spectacle that was currently playing out in the living world.

He had no idea why the leaders of this organization had chosen to arm it's brutish security forces with weapons that belonged to another century, let alone another culture. But the Radio Demon could not deny that watching them take on those who were equipped with more dangerous weaponry was highly entertaining.

Especially when the more 'hands-on' members of that little family proved to be far more skilled in the murderous arts than their opponents.

The little female Imp, while dwarfed in size by that ax of hers, was proving to be quite the competent combatant. Even if her swings at times failed to result in the precise cuts that he tended to favor when he lacked the abilities he currently possessed.

The Hellhound, whose mannerisms at times greatly reminded him of a certain grey-skinned butterfly, of courses performed in a way that also reminded him of himself. Albeit in a manner that was more feral, and impulsive than his own more refined style.

Using the weapons of her enemies against them, nimbly dodging the ones that she couldn't, and showing no squeamishness in using her more animalistic instincts to deal with her opponents. Alastor could only applaud the girl's obvious talents.

Even if her potential for mayhem was dwarfed by the child whose entry into Hell had been…less than traditional.

For while his skills with a pistol had yet to reach the same level as his adoptive father and trigger happy employer, the fact that he did nor limit himself to one combat form was quite…exciting.

True it would have been better for a boy of his age to focus on a single skillset, for some of his youthful escapades had revealed the folly of trying to quickly master multiple things at once. But since the lad was talented enough to recognize that he would only survive if he used everything in his arsenal, it ensured that today would not be the day when his enemies got the best of him.

For while his bullets did not immediately silence his suit-wearing opponents, especially the ones that had the misfortune of being hit in the bathing suit area, his claws were just as sharp as the Hellhounds. And his skill with a blade would have caused many a butcher to consider hiring him on as an apprentice.

Especially those charming little shops that catered towards the residents of the Cannibal Colony.

Sadly, it was becoming apparent that despite their rather admirable dedication to kill every human in that building, their dwindling bullet reserves ensured that it wouldn't be long before they were forced to make a hasty retreat to Hell.

And he was soon proven correct.

Their exit strategy was foiled by the Hellhound's inability to read in the low flickering light of the now blood splattered basement.

And since the humans had finally recognized the need to equip themselves with firearms, their chances of getting away unharmed was shrinking by the second.

Or at least it would have if it wasn't for a certain development.

If he had been any other sort of Overlord, the severance of his connection would have caused him to express his frustrations in a manner that would have undoubtedly worried his more naïve business partner.

However, since he suspected the reason behind the sudden cancelation of his 'viewing privileges' was beyond his ability to reprimand, Alastor contented himself with his plans to further develop another one of his projects.

He had no doubt that Charlie and her gray-skinned paramour would do all in their power to thwart him, if only because the Dog actually possessed the faintest glimmer of potential that was certainly lacking in the Spider.

But as he learned long ago, the most worthwhile things in existence were those that were hard to obtain.

….

Though the emotion was not one he experienced often, for he knew that he was more than capable of defending both himself and his loved ones from the type of harm that was commonplace in Hell, on this night Stolas was clearly familiarizing himself with the emotion known as fear.

And not just because he had sensed that the luck of his darling Blitzy was about to run out.

No, his concern stemmed from the fact that no matter what he said, his precious owlette was about to be introduced to a world in which he had long sought to protect her from.

And all because she had inherited his determination to protect those she loved.

He was proud of the fact that she was willing to come to the aid of her friends.

But the manner in which she did so made it plain that despite appearances, she was still the little chick who had nightmares about losing her parents.

The only difference now was that she now possessed the power to ensure that she would never cower under her covers again.

If he had been less paralyzed with heartbreak at this realization, plus the need to block the scrying eye of another interested party, he might have been able to take the lead in rescuing the members of Blitzy's organization.

As it was, his brief moment of panic had ensured that his role in this little rescue operation would be that of a worried observer instead of an active participant.

And it was quite plain that despite her lack of experience, Octavia was more than a match for these humans. Even if her methods were quite different than what he would have probably used.

Whereas he would have made his presence known by whispered threats, and perhaps some ghostly footprints before making a more theatrical appearance, his daughter had chosen to go onto the attack as soon as she was able.

And while these humans posed no danger to her well being, especially since her rage had caused her to change into a form that no mortal could ever hope to harm, he was still concerned as he watched her tear apart the members of this foolish organization.

However, while he was more than ready to put an end to his precious owlette's rampage, especially since he was the only one with the power and experience to bring her to heel, Stolas couldn't help releasing a small chuckle as Blitzy's charming daughter proved to have adopted the brazen like qualities of her adopted father.

"Hey Princess! You almost done showing off? Some of us have places to be."

Though amused, and more than slightly touched, that the Hellhound was treating his daughter like she usually did, the less than pleased hiss from Octavia was enough to motivate him to finally step in.

"She is right Octavia. While I cannot fully express how proud I am of your ability to fully obtain this..form, the fact that there are only two clearly traumatized survivors left means that our friends are no longer in any danger. So there is no reason to continue holding that form."

Earning a grudging snort from his transformed daughter, whose transformed state was more serpentine in appearance than his on, Stolas waited until his owlette no longer resembled the far eastern version of Harry's Hell provided form before focusing his attention on the love of his life.

"Are you alright Blitzy?"

Ignoring the youthful coughs of embarrassment at this show of affection, even if he wished to point out that his concerns were being expressed in a manner that were more refined than the physical displays of affection that were currently being shared between the three youngest people in the room, Stolas allowed a small smile to spread across his features as Blitzo nodded his head.

"Nothing that I can't handle Stolas. Though I do appreciate the rescue. Even if it could have happened earlier."

Releasing a small chuckle, the multi eyed Goetia took a small breath before he vented some of his more…irritated feelings.

"Good. Then tell me…How the fuck did you get caught in the first place!? My owlette told me how there was nothing stopping you from returning home after you interfered in her evening. Which leaves me to conclude that you aren't being careful enough up here. Need I remind you that if you get in trouble up here, I get in trouble!"

Narrowing his eyes to convey just how much he truly wished to avoid such a thing from occurring, though his concern was more for how his daughter would be affected by such a scandal rather than his own image, Stolas found his features softening as his student decided to come to Blitzy's defense.

"They got the jump on us Master Stolas. It won't happen again."

Pleased to see that the boy had the proper respect for what could have happened if they weren't careful, the lanky owl Demon allowed his tone to drop some of it's earlier severity as he glanced at the pair of cowering humans.

"Lucky for all of you, most humans tend to dismiss the words of the supernaturally possessed. Which is actually quite funny since humanity would be better defended if they listened to those that have been given the label of kooks."

Despite the seriousness of their current predicament, Stolas couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of that particular term.

"Kooks. Such a funny word. Now, let us retur.."

"Obliviate!"

Swiveling his head to stare at his currently glaring student, the Demon Prince patiently waited for an explanation for this minor interruption. Though he had to confess that Harry's answer to his wordlessly delivered question was in many ways logical.

If somewhat self-serving.

"What? I'm just making sure that we don't have to deal with these assholes later."

"Then why the fuck don't you just kill these pricks?"

Though he would not have put it so crassly, Stolas nevertheless had to agree with his lover's question.

For while it was one thing to purposefully leave a defeated foe live with the shame of their defeat, it was quite another to go to the effort to neutralize a threat without killing it.

However, his pupil's answer revealed that his decision had less to do with feelings of mercy than it did pragmatism.

"Because in case you've forgotten Blitzo, each country has a secret society that probably has agents keeping an eye on those who research the strange and unusual. Which means that if these two assholes decided to go public, I might be hauled out of school to deal with more headaches that I really don't want to deal with."

Nodding his head to show that he approved with this line of thinking, and choosing to ignore the fact that a certain owlette and hound were taking additional steps to erase any trace of their presence, the lanky owl Demon gestured towards the now active portal to indicate that they should be elsewhere.

Waiting until it was just him and Blitzy left standing in the increasingly scorching room, Stolas quickly moved to place his favorite Imp in a princess carry before allowing his voice to carry just a hint of playfulness as he went in for a nuzzle.

"Am I going to get any reward for coming to your rescue Blitzy?"

And as usual, his lover was quick to pick up on just what he wanted.

"Well I suppose you do. Even if it was your kid who did much of the heavy lifting. Still, does fucking your brains out work as a good reward?"

Leaning forward for a kiss, Stolas voiced his approval for such a suggestion.

"Very much so."

However instead of his lips, Blitzy had decided to reward him with a firm, but no less gentle grip on his face.

"Alright. But since I don't really want to split my attention between you and your bitch of a wife your gonna have to keep your mouth shut. Otherwise I'm getting the bear traps out."

Nodding his head in agreement as his body involuntarily shivered in anticipation of Blitzy's display of dominance, Stolas released a satisfied groan as his Imp finally decided to reward him with the gift of his ever so talented tongue.

A shame that the portal hadn't remained open while he was making out with his lover.

For the crackling flames, the exploding electronics, and the screaming humans were just the sort of romantic backdrop that most beings of Hell could appreciate.

And no one had ever denied with his claims that he was a romantic at heart.

….

ANNNNNNNNND that is the end of the DHORKS arc.

Pleased with how it turned out, apologises for the wait, this time of year lotta stuff coming due so it took a while. However hopefully all of you are pleased with how this turned out.

Now to address some things that will no doubt be asked of me about this chapter.

Yes I always intended Octavia to be the one to do the actual 'Demonic rescue'. If only because a) it shows off more of her abilities and b) gives me something to write about since she can probably gloat to Loona that she had more to do with the rescue than she did. As to what her full demonic form looks like….got the idea of what it would look like from the Last Airbender series (i.e. the Owl Spirit that turned demonic when pissed). The only other real option I had was the Owl beast from Owl House, but decided against it lol.

The scene with the holy water….or should I say failed holy water….basically I combined ideas that were in the film Constantine and Castlevania. The former because putting a cross in the water system seemed to ensure that the sprinklers leaked holy water, but the latter because the lines "Your God's love is not unconditional", "Your life's work makes him puke" really resonated with me. I know, I know, God in my story has been portrayed as a being who believes that one doesn't have to be in the Light in order to be Good. But I sincerely doubt that a loving God would give blessings to pedophiles (or any other type of monster) that professes to work for him.

The scene with the Radio Demon served more than one purpose. One it was to save me time writing combat scene :P, but also as a means to not only lead to another arc I've been thinking about…one that will allow me to skip Harry's last month at Hogwarts before Christmas without detracting from the plot. Also it shows that despite his power, Alastor is still no match for Stolas. Who coincidently, is no match for a certain sinful embodiment.

And of course, Harry and Blitzo's time while they were drugged up. Harry of course still has the Dursley's plaguing him, HOWEVER, the fact that he now has a family he can now rely on is particularly healthy for his mental growth. While I have come to be somewhat cynical about the course of the canon plot, the fact that Harry is stronger with people helping him is something that I wanted to retain.

As for Blitzo….not much change from canon, apart from the inclusion of Stella into the imagery.

The fate of the DHORK agents (i.e. dying in the fire set by Loona and Octavia that burns the building, and destroys the evidence of their adventure)….I know it closes off a potential episode plot line. But that is fine since I believe episode 7 has more potential.

Anyways hopefully you liked this.

Will start on the next chapter sometime next week.

Please review. No flames.

Til next time.