Author's note:
Sorry for not finishing this in time for Halloween. I hope you all enjpy it nonetheless.
To TwinstarDragon: The whole situation between Harry and Jasmine is a total mess as you will see in this chapter. It was the result of a shit situation where everyone was going to get hurt no matter what.
To Firestar Prime: Don't be too hard on Jasmine until after this chapter. Harry had a big hand in how everything turned out. It is more of a tragedy than a betrayal.
To naedinefebruary2.0: Thank you for the offer, but I am not currently looking to do anything more than just write this.
--
Chapter 3: Hellhounds and Happy Halloween
"You okay, Harry?" Draco asks me as he fires a paintball at one of the students lagging on the track. Said student immediately speeds back up despite the limp from where the green paintball struck his thigh. "You seem more down than usual. You are hardly even shooting anyone. Was detention that bad? Jasmine seems pissed off too."
"I don't really wnat to talk about it," I say as I idly shoot a Ravenclaw third year in the leg. When he shouts in anger about how he wasn't even going slow, I fire several rounds at his back until he realizes that he should just shut up and run even faster. "Shooting these out of shape idiots doesn't even feel as good as it usually does."
"Usually, you would be laughing by now," Draco agrees. "You haven't even shot people for fun today. You only shot him because you remembered you usually do."
"Okay," I relent. "I will tell you what happened. So, we were in detention in McGonagall's classroom...
--
"Okay," she says. "For this exercise, you will both take turns saying nice things about each other. Despite how much you want to say an insult, I want you to restrain that impulse and give genuine compliments. Ms. Potter, you go first."
It looked like it brought Jasmine physical pain to try and say something positive about me. I just relish in her discomfort and wait patiently for her to wax poetically about my many fabulous qualities.
"You are... in shape," she says as she clearly had to force those words out of her mouth through sheer force of will. "You clearly exercise and take care of your body."
"Good," McGonagall says. "Now, Mr. Winchester. It is your turn to say thank you and say something nice in return."
I suddenly understand why it was so painful for Jasmine as I force myself to analyze her factually and try to think about something that wasn't an insult. Her amused smile just made that infinitely harder.
"Thank you," I choke out. "Your hair smells nice. Your choice of shampoo is good."
McGonagall and Jasmine both seem surprised and confused at my odd choice for the compliment. Okay, fuck you! It is hard enough to come up with something I can force myself to say without you two judging me for what I manage to say.
"Thank you," Jasmine says as she clearly is holding in laughter. "Your choice of flannel shirts is very fashionable."
Oh, I know she didn't actually mean that. She is just using McGonagall's lack of normal people knowledge to slip in sly insults. I can tell from her little smirk I am right on the money. Well, two can play at that game.
"I think your lipstick is nice," I say. "Did you get some advice from your friends in the red light district?"
Thankfully, McGonagall didn't catch that one, but oh boy! Jasmine definitely did from the hint of red rage that tints her face now. She was barely holding back a blatant insult, but she stomachs it for the moment.
"You really have a way with words," she says. You are a backstabbing liar!
"You have great flexibility for Quidditch," I reply. More like for getting fucked like the slut you are!
"Can you two please stop insulting my intelligence?" McGonagall finally says with a sigh. "I might not understand how you are insulting each other, but I can still recognize it when I see it. Mr. Winchester, you can leave. I wish to talk with Ms. Potter privately."
"You are in trouble," I taunt as I hop out of my seat and head out the door. "See you later, Professor."
Once I leave the door, I let it close behind me before I lean against the wall outside. Part of me wants to leave, but I need to hear what happens.
--
(Jasmine Potter POV)
"Are you okay, Jasmine?" Hermione asks as they walk down the corridor of the castle. "You have been really quiet since you came back from detention."
"It's fine," she tells the bookworm. "I am just caught up in my thoughts is all."
"Usually you would be complaining out loud instead of just thinking," Hermoine replies.
It made her eyebrow twitch with annoyance that the statement was annoyingly true. That didn't stop her from flicking the other girl in response.
"No need to go psychoanalyzing me, Hermione," she huffs. "I can just be in a bad mood because I want to be."
"So it definitely doesn't have anything to do with that Hufflepuff guy, right?" Hermione asks. She couldn't help the slight stutter in her step that the mention produced. Hermione definitely caught it becuase her tone became substantially smugger. "What was his name again? Oh yeah, Winchester. I think I see him shooting paintballs at the third years with your cousin, Draco."
"Enough about that idiot," she scoffs as her eyes glance out the window to see the two guys down on the grass below. She turns her gaze back at the bushy haired Gryffindor who had a triumphant grin on her face. "Let's get to class already. At this rate, you will never be the top student in our class, Hermione."
"Sod off, Jasmine," Hermione says. "I help you with your homework. You shouldn't go throwing stones when you live in a glass house, missy."
She just laughs as her friend was distracted by the change in topic. As she chats with her, she can't help but think back to last night and her talk with McGonagall.
--
"So, Ms. Potter," Professor McGonagall says. "Can you please explain to me what led to the animosity between you and Mr. Winchester?"
"What do you mean?" she asks innocently. "Can't two people just naturally hate each other's guts? That doesn't seem so crazy to me."
"It would not be out of the realm of possibility," McGonagall admits. "However, you remind me of a certain saying. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' Now, could you please tell me the truth?"
"Fine," she relents. "It kind of goes back a long time. I didn't have a lot of friends growing up. The ones I did have weren't that close. Most people saw me as the Girl Who Lived. If they look past that, they see me as Jasmine Potter, Heiress of House Potter. No one ever saw me as just Jasmine. At least, not until Harry."
"Every summer, my parents and I would spend time at my Uncle Sirius' place in Vermont over in the US," she says. "I remember he told my dad he bought it so that he would always be close to maple syrup. It definitely helped that it was pretty close to the Ben & Jerry's ice cream factory. Anyway, I spent a lot of time there when I was younger. It was a nice change of pace from living in the magical world all my life. Everything was so normal and it was like a breath of fresh air."
"That is when I met Harry," she finally says after a moment of silence. "He was spending the summer there with one of his older brothers since he was too young to be staying on the road with their dad while school was out. He didn't see me as the next Merlin in the making. He didn't even see me as a witch. He was the first person who ever looked at me and saw plain old normal Jasmine. To him, I must have been boring from how little I knew about most Muggle stuff."
"Those summers were the most fun that I had ever had," she reminisces. "I could just be a kid. I didn't have the world resting on my shoulders for once. I wasn't treated like a porcelain doll that could break at the slightest bump. He was my best friend and I couldn't imagine the world without him. That is what made it even better when we finally realized how we felt about each other. It just clicked like everything else between us. Our friendship didn't change. It just became more."
"At least, that's how it was in the beginning," she says as the faint smile on her face fades away. "One day, he seemed to change. He used to call me every day to talk and then it became every few days. After a while, it was once a week. Then, he only seemed to respond to text messages. That didn't even last long. I was hoping I could figure out what was wrong when he visited for the summer, but he canceled because he had 'family business.'"
"I waited for a long time," she says. "I lost track of how many nights I fell asleep staring at my phone hoping he would call. He never did. I had no idea what went wrong because he wouldn't tell me. Was it something I did? It hurt to not know if it was just him getting tired of me. Next thing I know, it has been months since I have heard from him at all. All my texts were ignored. Any calls went straight to voicemail. For someone who never had many friends, it made me feel alone again."
"I had to make a decision," she says as her voice becomes resolute. "I had to decide if I was going to wait around for someone who might never come back. In the end, I chose me."
"I moved on without him," she continues. "I got closer to TJ and we started dating. I started feeling good about myself for the first time in forever. It was during a trip to back to Vermont for Christmas that I got a phone call from Harry again. It had been almost a year since he had bothered to even tell me he was alive. Just like that, I was back to the same girl who stayed up by the phone waiting for it to ring."
"In that moment, I almost answered," she admits. "It was so hard to hit the red button. I just knew I couldn't go back to how it used to be when I was finally in a good place again. I thought that would be it, but that asshole just can't take a hint."
--
(Years Ago)
"Yeah, this one of my favorite places to eat," she tells TJ. "They like to do an open mic a lot of the time, so musicians play here a bunch. It just sucks that no one is scheduled for right now."
"That's okay," TJ replies. "I wouldn't want any music to distract me from you."
A smile spreads across her face before she sees someone step onto the stage with the microphone. It was like a ghost back from the dead as he decided to finally show up now of all times. Harry tunes his guitar for a few second before he begins to strum it.
"Oh, neat," TJ says. "I guess someone is playing after all. Is it anyone that you have heard before?"
"Yeah," she manages to say. "I have heard him a couple times."
"As you promised me that I was more than all the miles combined,
You must've had yourself a change of heart like halfway through the drive.
Because your voice trailed off exactly as you passed my exit sign.
Kept on drivin' straight and left our future to the right.
Now I am stuck between my anger, and the blame that I can't face.
And memories are something smoking weed does not replace.
And I am terrified of weather 'cause I see you when it rains.
Doc told me to travel but there's Covid on the planes.
And I love Vermont but it's the season of the sticks, and I
Saw your mom, she forgot that I existed and it's
Half my fault, but I just like to play the victim.
I'll drink alcohol 'till my friends come home for Christmas.
And I'll dream each night of some version of you
That I may not have, but I did not lose.
Now you're tire tracks and one pair of shoes
And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do."
If anyone else heard this song, it would probably make them sad. However, it just pissed her off. After all this time, here he was acting like he was the one left behind. Her hands curled into fists beneath the table as her nails dug into her palms. It was everything she could do to not lose control.
"So, I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad
That I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from Dad.
No, I am no longer funny 'cause I miss the way you laugh.
You once called me forever, now you still can't call me back.
And I love Vermont but it's the season of the sticks, and I
Saw your mom, she forgot that I existed, and it's
Half my fault, but I just like to play the victim. I'll drink
Alcohol 'till my friends come home for Christmas, and I'll
Dream each night of some version of you
That I may not have but I did not lose.
Now you're tire tracks and one pair of shoes
And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do.
Oh, that'll have to do, my other half was you.
I hope this pain is just passing through, but I doubt it."
What right did he have to pretend like it was her fault? She had waited for so long and he was acting like that meant nothing. He thought he could show up after months of nothing but silence and think she was going to be happy to pick up right where they left off. That fucking asshole!
And I, love Vermont, but it's the season of the sticks, and I
Saw your mom, she forgot that I existed, and it's
Half my fault, but I just like to play the victim. I'll drink
Alchol 'till my friends come home for Christmas, and I'll
Dream each night of some version of you
That I might not have, but I did not lose.
Now you're tire tracks and one pair of shoes
And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do
Have to do."
As he finishes the song, the silence is filled with the cheers of everyone in the cafe. Even TJ was clapping after the performance. Her blood boiled as she saw Harry glance over at her with a sad smile. Without another word, he steps off the stage and walks out the side door.
She excuses herself to go to the bathroom before she rushes after Harry. When she passes through the door he left through, the only sign of him was a single photo lying on the ground. She picks it up and looks at it for a moment. It was from when they were thirteen and had gone to a carnival that had come to town. They were laughing their asses off after Sirius had thrown up from too much cotton candy and funnel cake.
She flips the photo over to see that there is writing on the back. It was a short message, but every word of it erased any positivity the fond memory brought her.
Goodbye, Jazz
-Harry
It was all she could do to hold in the scream of frustration as her first friend is finally gone without the balls to say goodbye in person.
--
"So, there you have it," she says. "I hate him because he deserves to be hated."
"Did you ever ask him why he left in the first place?" the professor asks.
"I don't know and I don't want to know," she says resolutely. "If he cared enough to tell me, he could have said it years ago. I don't want anything from him except for his life to be as miserable as possible."
"If you truly did not care about him, then you would ignore him without a second thought," McGonagall points out. "I have the feeling you still harbor some fondness for Mr. Winchester."
"You think I am still in love with that piece of shit?" she asks incredulously. "Why on Earth would I not hate him with all of my heart?"
"Because you don't," the older woman says simply. "Humans cannot control what we feel. We can hate someone with every fiber of our being but cry at their funeral when they are dead and gone. As Headmaster Dumbledore likes to point out, to live is to be a walking contradiction. I am not asking you to forgive him for what he has done. I just want you to be able to accept yourself for who you are. Now, I think it is high time you get to bed. After all, you have a Transfiguration class first thing in the morning, Ms. Potter."
"Of course, Professor McGonagall," she says before she walks out of the classroom.
--
(Harry Winchester POV)
I watch Jasmine leave the classroom as I hide behind a demonic illusion. It cost me my ability to taste and smell for an hour, but that was fine by me since dinner was over.
Sad that your little girlfriend resents you?
I try to ignore Azazel's slimy voice in my mind. 'Everything went according to plan,' I think at the dead demon. 'She doesn't want anything to do with me.'
Why didn't you get back together with her? I am not around to threaten her anymore.
'Shut the fuck up.'
Oh, that's right. You are still scared after the mess you made of her soul.
'I didn't do anything to Jasmine!'
Oh, but that is the best part. You don't really know one way or the other. You couldn't help strengthening the miasmic bond between the two of you to help with her nightmares. Whose to say you didn't do something else too?
'I would never hurt her like that.' I don't know who I am trying to convince more, the echo or myself.
I don't even need to torment you. You do the job better than I ever could. You keep yourself awake at night with the thought of ,'What if I made her love me?' Only God knows for sure and I doubt he is going to make an appearance any time soon.
With that last little jab, the demonic echo fades back into my subconscious and leaves me alone once more. I dispel the illsuion before I go back to the Hufflepuff dorm. Something tells me I am not going to get much sleep tonight.
--
"Seriously, that's it?" Draco asks. "You two argued like normal and then McGonagall kept Jasmine back to talk about something? Did you hear what it was about?"
"I don't know," I say after giving Draco only the first half of the story. "I heard them start to talk about menstrual cycles and periods before I decided it wasn't worth hearing."
"Whatever," Draco says as he clearly knows I am lying. He doesn't push more simply due to the fact that he realizes it wouldn't do anything but piss me off. "So, are you ready for the Halloween feast tonight?"
"Of course," I reply. "I can't wait for the pies they are going to be making. The house elves, bless their tryhard souls, seem to treat it like Thanksgiving. I am going to gorge myself on so much pumpkin pie that I turn pumpkin orange. Wait, I was always confused about something. Why do wizards celebrate Halloween instead of the whole Samhain stuff?"
"I asked my mother and it is probably the same reason you already think," Draco says. "Way too many people used it to summon demons and the Ministry realized that if they supported the more muggle version then they wouldn't have to fight so many possessions on a yearly basis."
"Smart," I admit. "That's some bureaucracy I can get behind."
"That is literally the only smart decision they have ever made," Draco snickers. "Most of the time they just waste money and make things worse."
"Make sense," I say with a nod. "All of the inbreeding has caught up with them."
"Can you stop with the inbreeding jokes?" Draco asks. "I am genuinely worried someone is going to stab you one of these days."
"Don't be," I say as I wave off the concern. "I can prove it, but you need to take a couple of steps back. Alright, everyone! You can stop running! The new test will be on magical capacity and output. You all will proceed to shoot me with the strongest spells you can manage for as long as you can manage. Slashes, explosions, and curses are all on the table. I better not see anyone casting underpowered spells to keep going longer because I can tell if you do. You will keep firing until you pass out from magical exhaustion. If anyone manages to actually hit me, you will get an Outstanding for the rest of the year even if you decide to never show up. Give it your best shot!"
Draco immediately bolts away as the students all turn on me like hungry sharks smelling chum in the water. The chance to escape fitness hell for the rest of the year blinds them to the foolishness of trying to actually fight me. I bet this will clear up that misconception.
One particularly brave soul decides to cast a blast of fire at me. It completely engulfs me before it fades away and reveals to the crowd I am unharmed. The only sign the spell happened at all is the ring of burning grass and char around me. They all look on in disbelief as I check my nails. I think that they became a little more demoralized at the fact I wasn't even holding my wand.
"Is that all?" I ask. "Oh well, I guess that you will all just have to run for another hour instead."
This snaps them out of their stupor as they proceed to unleash a veritable wall of color at me. So many brightly glowing spells of every conceivable hue and purpose fly towards me it was like looking into a rainbow of violence. Despite how impressive it looked, it was ultimately as pointless as the fire. Each spell slowed down as it approached me before they seemed to flicker as they ran out of energy until finally fading away. Without fail, each spell fell prey to this unfortunate occurence and none of them even got remotely close to touching my skin.
At a certain point, some of the students even started transfiguring dirt into boulders and weapons to throw at me. This worked just as well as the normal spells since the objects slowed down on approach before grinding to a halt and dropping to the ground. With each failed attempt, I could feel their hope crumble and their wills break. Ah, the despair of weaklings. This is just the thing I needed after last night.
One by one, they all collapse as they succumb to magical exhaustion. Once the final one drops, I just turn and grin at Draco.
"See!" I say as I point at the crowd of unconscious third years. "Like I have to worry about these chumps. After all, I'm the strongest!"
Draco just sighs at my antics as he rubs his face. By this point, I know he is just messing around because he is already immune to this level of tomfoolery. I have to get up to downright shenanigans if I want him to get really exasperated. I don't expect any less from my best friend.
As it stood, I was still standing in a circle of unconscious students cackling like a madman. All in all, this is a win in my book.
--
"I can't wait to carve through this feast like a shark," I say as I rub my hands together expectantly.
"You might be the biggest glutton I have ever seen," Nymphadora comments. "You look like you are ready to drive an all you can eat buffet out of business."
"Being this awesome burns a lot of calories," I reply. I am being honest because it genuinely does. I use my demonic miasma every now and then throughout the day and I balance some of the deals by trading calories. This makes me a terror on any buffet that falls in my sights. "Feasts are the perfect chance to pack on some extra nutrients."
"As long as you don't take all of it," Nymphadora scoffs. "I can tell that you are considering it. And why do I feel like you are calling me Nymphadora in your mind?"
"Because it is only right to call a beautiful girl by her beautiful name?" I ask as I try and get out of the punishment for using her birth name.
She was unamused. "You better call me Tonks, even in your own head," she warns.
"Fine," I tell Nym-, Tonks. That is what I tell Tonks. She is definitely pleased with herself after effectively policing my personal thoughts. She must have inherited some of the Black family genes since this is giving me flashbacks to meeting Draco's mom once. I have never seen a lady so equally sweet and strict. It was an act of supreme will that I never made a dommy mommy joke.
The peaceful atmosphere was soon ruined when Hagrid burst into the hall with bleeding gashes across his clothes and a limp. "Troll!" he exclaims. "There is a troll in the dungeons!"
As soon as he said it, he collapses to the ground from his injuries and everyone loses their shit. At least, most people do. Us Winchester brothers have a very different reaction.
Over the chaos of the hall rises an angelic chorus that confuses many of the students but actually seems to distract them from their panic.
"Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah, Hallelujah!"
Our eyes meet across the hall as we look at each other in a singular moment of challenge. Cass sighed off to the side as he already expected this reaction.
I grab the nearest dinner knives and promptly throw them at my brothers as they try and get over the staff table. As they avoid the sharp metal distractions, I immediately bolt from the Hufflepuff table and sprint towards the doors.
I drop to the ground about a second later when Sam hits me with a Leg Locker jinx that takes my feet out from under me. He then proceeds to run towards the doors instead.
Dean nips this in the bud by tazing Sam. The lanky asshole goes down twitching as Dean walks past his convulsing form. He has a cocky smile on his face at being the last brother standing.
I remove that smile by promptly throwing a brass pitcher at his head. He goes down like a sack of rocks as I stroll forward happily now that I dispelled the jinx trapping my legs. Everyone was looking at me in disbelief as I fistpump at my victory over my older brothers.
After stepping over their dazed bodies, I continue unhindered out of the hall. It was only after I was close to the main starwell that my brain felt like it was stabbed with a spike of fear and pain.
Broken stone.
Leaking water.
Dripping blood
Snarling in the dark.
Fuck, its going after Jasmine!
I leap forward as I call on a power imbued into my demonic miasma. There were always stories of the devil appearing as a black dog. I took that idea and decided to run with it.
My fingers shrank into claws as my hands changed into paws. My teeth lengthened into razor sharp canines built for tearing prey. My jaw stretched until it became a muzzle with a nose that could track even the weakest scents. My legs twisted until I was running on all fours. Fur covered my body as it became the color of night. Within the span of a moment, I became a black hound that dwarfed even the largest wolves. I just hoped it would be fast enough.
--
(Troll POV)
Long cave was confusing. Walk and walk but never find food. Always more cave keep going.
Chubby thing got away before eat. Try find, but it gone quick. Find new thing instead.
Hear growly but turn and no growly there. Look and look but no growly.
Get pushed over but see no push thing. Hear growly again, but now it is where the hurt feel coming from. Red keeps coming from the hurt cut as the no see growly keeps biting.
Cave gets dark and feel sleepy. Must be nap thought. Look for eat thing after sleep end.
--
(Jasmine Potter POV)
"Are you okay, Hermione?" she asks as she stands outside the bathroom stall. "Can you please talk to me?"
"Can you leave, Jasmine?" Hermione asks. "I just want to be alone right now."
"Don't listen to what that idiot Ron said," she tells her. "I don't understand why TJ puts up with him. What matters is that he is a dumbass who doesn't know what he is talking about."
"Am I really a know-it-all who annoys people? Hermione asks in a whisper. "Is that why I don't have any friends?"
"Hermione, come out right now before I break down this door and drag you out," Jasmine warns her friend. The stall door eventually opens and Jasmine grabs Hermione into a hug as she strokes her back. "It's okay. You have me now. You have friends."
The assurance makes the bushy haired girl finally break out in tears as she clings to her friend. This moment was shattered when the wall of the bathroom blasts apart and fragments of stone strike both of them as they stumble back. One shard cuts her on the cheek and she winces in pain as another strikes her in the ribs.
Luckily, her body protected Hermione from the worst of it and the terrified girl was okay. As they look out at the hole in the wall, they hear a huffing sound. The crunch of stone beneath a heavy mass echoes in the bathroom as something takes a step inside. Whatever it was sniffs the air before a growl permeates the air.
The truly horrifying part is that there was nothing there. At least, there was nothing that could be seen. The rubble shifts with its movements. The dust billows with each of its breaths. The air moves around a massive shape that refuses to appear.
That changes when she felt a burning in her scar. Then, it slowly seemed to fade into reality and she wished it had stayed invisible. It looked like a dog with a cursory glance, but that would ignore the details that she couldn't take her eyes off of.
It had spiky growths of bone growing from its joints and across its skull. Its spine had a series of them sprouting from each vertebrae. Its fur was pitch black and covered its body except for parts where it was burned off and revealed charred skin. Its teeth were jagged and dripped with saliva as it stalked foward. Two hungry red eyes gazed out at her from the beast as it saw her as its next meal.
She couldn't bear to keep looking at it. The feeling of wrongness coming from it made her nauseous as her scar seared through her mind. She couldn't manage a spell even if she was holding her wand. Instead, she just pulls Hermione tighter and comforts her in what will likely be their final moments.
"It's okay, Hermione," she tells the frightened girl. "Everything is okay. Just close your eyes and it will all be like a dream. We will wake up and head off to classes. You can help me get through my homework in the library. I can finally get you into quidditch. It will all be fine. I promise."
Part of her hated that the last thing she would ever say to Hermione was a lie, but she didn't want her friend to be terrified in her final moments.
The beast lunges forward in snarl before it is thrown into the stalls by something crashing into its side. She could barely make out two shapes fighting in the spray of water flung into the air by the destroyed plumbing. Seeing this as their only chance, she grabs Hermione and races out of the ruins of the bathroom.
Once they reach the end of the hall, she spares a single glance back to the hole leading into the bathroom. A black shape is thrown through before crashing into the wall and cracking the stone. It was revealed to be a massive black dog that matched the size of the twisted beast that almost killed her.
The dog glances once in her direction and she could almost make out an odd coloring of its eyes, but it turned before she could see clearly. It leaped back into the bathroom and the sounds of bestial battle resume. With that last sight, she guides the shell-shocked Hermione away to safety. They just need to trust that the new dog can finish the fight.
--
(Harry Winchester POV)
As I bite and tear at the hellhound, I curse my luck. Ever since the barrier between Earth and Hell degraded with the return of Lucifer and then the archangels being sealed in the Cage, the balance between the different realms has become unstable. Demons and demonic miasma escape Hell more easily nowadays and wreck havoc with increasing frequency.
From the feel of this hellhound's miasma, I would guess that it is newly formed and likely came from the Forbidden Forest. Places like that tend to pool with darker magical energy which is the perfect material for miasma to mix with and form a demonic creature. The other hunters have taken to calling these things lesser demons since they are produced from miasma but tend to lack conscious thought most of the time. They usually tend to operate like their naturally occuring counterparts.
Hellhounds like this derive their sustenance from miasma they receive from the demon who controls them. Since it is newly formed and lacks a bond, it hunts out weaker demons to feast on their miasma or to kill humans and feed on the magic generated by their souls. That must be the reason it went after Jasmine. It sensed the miasma bound to her through her scar and thought she would make an easy meal.
As I battle with the hellhound, it is annoyingly strong despite being a newborn. Hogwarts sits on a nexus point between multiple ley lines, which are kind of like magical veins that flow through the planet. This means that the area around the school is so saturated with magic that can spawn a hellhound this powerful. I don't want to give it a chance to mature and become an even greater danger.
I bite it on the forearm and use that grip to throw it away. It slams against the far wall of the bathroom before turning back to me with a snarl. This momentary lapse in the fight gives me the opportunity to leave the bathroom and get some distance down the corridor. My plan requires me to have plenty of room.
Once I get my space, I change back to my human form. I glare down the hall at the hellhound who steps out of the bathroom before fixing me with its hateful gaze. We stare at each other before I decide to make the first move.
I hold up my hands and draw from the archangel grace in my soul. I funnel the angelic power through my body before condensing it between my hands. It first appears as a swirling mass of blue wisps, but it steadily grows until it is glowing ball of celestial energy. I force it to become smaller as the energy becomes compressed and more potent.
A quirk of angelic grace that I noticed after practicing with it for a while is that it is a denser form of energy than just about anything in existence. That means it naturally draws in other types of energy like the gravity of the sun pulling on the planets. This extra energy helps to fuel the attack and make it even stronger. I like to think of this as my bunker buster. If someone were to try and defend against this with a magical shield, then it would feed on that energy until it breaks through more powerful than before.
Because of this property, it has a unique effect on the world around it. The corridor becomes darker as the light is absorbed by the sphere. Mist fills the air and frost forms across the floor and my clothes as the heat is pulled from the water vapor in the air and forces it to condense into water and ice. The torchs sputter as the magic energy of the castle itself is ripped from the walls and forced into my attack.
The hellhound eventually loses its fear and bolts towards me in a sprint. All demonic creatures inherently hate angels and God. It is a consequence from being formed from the chaotic energy that is miasma. True demons could restrain themselves and run away from the massive threat I pose, but lesser demons fall to their instincts and charge straight forward.
"Angelic Amplification: Blue."
I whisper the name before I release the azure sphere of energy and it shoots down the length of the hallway. The light dims with its passage as it becomes the only source of illumination. The hellhound pounces at the offending orb before it detonates on contact and erupts in an explosion that tears through the remaining length of the corridor, collapsing walls and setting small fires as a result.
As I gaze at the huge mess my fight left, I come to a simple solution. I just run away and hope no one can prove it was me.
--
(Dumbledore POV)
As he stared at the two elder Winchesters standing in the wreckage of a corridor, he couldn't help the feeling that they would be as much trouble as their younger brother.
"Was this your work?" he asks them as he gestures to the weapons they are holding. The eldest, Dean, was holding a muggle weapon called a grenade launcher if he was remembering correctly while the younger, Sam, was holding what he might be mistaken in identifying as the Norse god Thor's hammer, Mjolnir.
"Uh, no?" Sam says as he and Dean try to hide their weapons behind them despite them still being clearly visible.
He just shook his head with a sigh as he could feel the headache already coming on. The corpse of the troll had been found savaged by a beast and the tracks led the faculty to the destroyed hallway occupied by the Winchester brothers.
At times like this, he truly wished he had retired when he had the chance.
--
Author's note:
Boom! Another chapter done! Apologies for not releasing this on Halloween like I planned, but I was busy finishing up my newest stories and it took me way longer than I expected. I hope this makes up for the delay.
In case you are wondering at the similarity in powers between a certain white haired Jujutsu sorcerer by the name of Satoru Gojo and Harry, you are completely correct. This was not my original idea, but I was planning out his powers and I couldn't help running with it after realizing his charged up angelic blast reminded me a lot of Gojo's Cursed Technique Amplification: Blue. After that, I realized it wasn't that big of a jump to give him a similar protective field as well.
To answer future questions, the protective field works through his magic instead of grace or miasma. It tricks reality into thinking that there is more space between an attack and his body than there actually is. This causes the spells to burn out since they use all of their energy trying to cross the funtionally infinite space.
Also, the whole thing with lesser demons spawning is a thinly veiled way to toss in a bunch of cool monster fights that I can easily explain.
Feel free to write me a review and let me know how I did. I am practically fueled by reviews, so don't be shy. I always make sure to take all reviews to heart and respond to any questions at the beginning of each chapter.
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A pleasure as always,
Titan900
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