PSA:

WE HAVE REACHED 100K! WOO!

Just wanting to put this out there, I had the choice to follow every Harry Potter Fanfiction where Harry Potter goes into the series without all the fame and buster, or ram my head against the shitstorm button. In this wild dilemma, I left it to a coin toss.

Cue to the end of the chapter to see the results!

Review:

Guest- You are exactly right on all counts! That chapter is probably one of my biggest brain farts I have ever had, now after doing an extensive readout on the book series; there will be a callsign declaring that Chapter 4 is being overhauled.

Thristan- Considering of that insight, be prepared for a great deal of upheaval in this chapter. Besides, considering of what has been talked about and done, you will find some incredible humor in it, just know the topic of fate this chapter XD

hellion117- I mean... yessnt?

ANNOUNCEMENT: THERE IS A SORTING HAT CEREMONY VOTE AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER! PLZ READ AT THE END TO VOTE!

Harry Potter: Goetian Beginnings

Chapter 9: What about Second Birthday Parties?

Imp City, Pride Ring

July 31st, 1991

The Princes of the Goetic realm, Octavius and Octavia, sat regally upon their thrones, their gazes firm and unblinking. Their eyes, reminiscent of the keen sight of owls, were not just attuned to the physical world but also to the ebbs and flows of time itself.

Having mastered the art of Divination, their minds were linked to a cosmic tapestry, allowing them to see the threads of fate intertwining, unfolding, and revealing the events yet to come. Through this, they could sense potential adversaries, could perceive their ill-intentions before they stepped foot in Imp City, the heart of their dominion.

Their foreknowledge was akin to a chess player foreseeing their opponent's moves, predicting their strategies, and countering them before they had a chance to act. They were the guardians of their city, and they stood vigil, their sights set far beyond the borders of their lands.

To any unwelcome guest who might breach their borders, Octavius and Octavia did not need to be on the frontline. With a carefully woven network of loyal demons and allies, they could intercept these threats swiftly. Using the same magic that pulsed through their veins, they sent word to their contacts, painting a vivid image of the intruders, their identities, their purpose, and most importantly, their fate if they dared to step into their territory.

Their trusted allies, stationed at key entrances around Imp City, would then intervene. The unsuspecting adversaries would find themselves surrounded, their plans foiled even before they could set them into motion. With no room for negotiation or resistance, they would be escorted out of their city, their aspirations of discord quelled.

Thus, the peace within Imp City was maintained, guarded by the vigilant eyes of their rulers. And as Octavius and Octavia held their ground, the citizens of Imp City could rest easy, knowing that their Princes were watching over them, seeing the threats even before they could manifest, and ensuring their city remained a safe haven amidst the chaos of Hell.

It was an undertaking of colossal magnitude, this task of introspection Octavius had set for himself. He had absorbed thousands of souls, each a whisper of life, a sigh of mortality that was now intertwined with his own spirit. These were not just mere sources of power; they were echoes of existences, memories, dreams, and emotions. Each soul bore the weight of human experience, the thread of life spun from love, joy, sorrow, and pain.

Octavius, seated on his throne, closed his eyes, allowing his senses to plunge into the depths of this soul-ocean within him. He was a Goetic Prince, a figure of power and authority. But here, in this silent contemplation, he was merely a listener to the symphony of life that played within him.

The voices were myriad, a cacophony at first, the jumble of lives overlapping and intersecting. But as he focused, individual threads began to emerge from the din, clearer, distinct.

The mother's lullaby seemed to break through the clamor of war as her voice soothed those around her. The triumphant cries of a soldier echoed in his ears, and the gentle sighs of a lover stirred something deep within him. He felt every emotion, as if he was living it himself - the joys and sorrows, the victories and defeats - all pieces of the complex puzzle of humanity that he slowly began to unravel with each passing moment.

His mind swam with the thoughts and emotions of countless lives. It was overwhelming, the raw intensity of human existence. But Octavius persisted, allowing himself to feel every emotion, every joy, every pain. He was not just absorbing their power; he was accepting their humanity, their mortality, their life.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The world outside moved on, but for Octavius, time stood still. He was lost in this whirlpool of human experiences, each wave leaving him a little more enlightened, a little more human.

Octavia, who had been watching her brother in silence, finally broke it, her voice a soft ripple in the stillness of the throne room."Octavius," she began, her words cautious as she studied her brother's distant gaze. There was a change in him, she had noticed, a shift in his demeanor that had made him seem more... introspective.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked, her voice touched with a quiet concern.

Octavius turned towards her, his eyes holding a depth that startled her. It was as though he had journeyed far and wide, seen the world in a whole new light, and was now returning, carrying a world of knowledge and understanding.

"I'm more than okay, Octavia," Octavius replied.

Octavia held her brother's gaze, her eyes filled with a mix of admiration and apprehension. She could see the weight of the thousands of souls in his eyes - the depth of their lives, their dreams, their fears. The sheer enormity of what he'd done was overwhelming, even to her.

"Octavius..." she started, her voice trembling slightly. "You've taken in so many souls. Each one is a life, a story... Isn't it... isn't it too much?" She could see the wisdom in his eyes, but she worried for the burden he'd chosen to bear.

A single soul carried enough weight on its own - hopes, dreams, pain, love, fear, joy. And Octavius had absorbed thousands of them. It was a testament to his strength and his character, but even the strongest could falter under such a weight.

She watched him, her heart heavy with the worry that only a sister could feel for her little brother.

In the silence that stretched between them, Octavius could hear the genuine concern in Octavia's voice. Her worry was palpable, yet he found himself smiling, touched by her fear for his wellbeing. He had indeed taken on a burden unlike any other, but it was a choice he had made willingly.

"Yes, it is a great deal," he agreed, his voice steady. "Each soul is a story, a whisper of a life lived. Their dreams, their fears, their loves... they now live within me. But, Octavia..." He looked into her eyes, wanting her to understand. "I do not see this as a burden."

His gaze held hers as he continued, "Every soul is a voice. A voice that has been silenced, a voice that yearned to be heard. I gave them that chance. By absorbing them, I did not snuff them out, but allowed them to echo within me. Each voice adds to my understanding, to my strength. It is overwhelming, yes, but not burdensome."

He reached over, placing a comforting hand on Octavia's, his eyes softening. "I understand your worry, sister," he said. "But do not fear for me. I chose this path knowing the challenges it would bring. And I would choose it again."

Octavia watched Octavius in silence as he voiced his convictions, her eyes filled with respect for his strength and his unyielding resolve. She felt a lump in her throat as he spoke of his purpose, his words echoing in the quiet of the throne room.

His words were true, his path chosen willingly and the strength in his voice spoke of his determination to bear this enormous responsibility. She admired him for that, and yet, she also knew her duty as his sister and protector.

With a slow nod of understanding, Octavia finally broke her silence. "I respect your decision, Octavius," she began, her voice as steady as her gaze. "And I believe in your strength. You've always been more capable than you gave yourself credit for."

She paused, her fingers intertwining with his in a gesture of solidarity. "But know this," she said, her voice resolute, "If I suspect, even for a moment, that these souls are causing you harm, I will not hesitate to intervene. I will do whatever it takes to protect you, even from yourself, if need be."

The intensity of their conversation slowly faded away, giving room for lighter matters. Octavius offered Octavia a grateful smile, cherishing the bond they shared. Her promise was a testament to their unbreakable bond, a bond not even the trials of their existence could shatter.

With a lighter heart, Octavius leaned back on his throne, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes as he looked at his sister. "Speaking of which, sister," he began, his tone shifting to one of playful curiosity. "I've heard there's a birthday party tonight."

His eyes sparkled with anticipation. "What have you planned for our grand celebration? I do hope it's not a quiet evening by the fireside," he added, an impish grin playing on his lips. Despite the weight of the day's revelations, he still found room for some lighthearted jest.

Octavia rolled her eyes in a playful manner at Octavius's question, a small smile tugging at her lips. "And how do you propose to do that this time, dear brother?" She questioned, folding her arms across her chest. "Shall we exclude Minerva's timely arrival as a factor this year?"

"What about the gifts for the future?" He asked, a hint of wonder lacing his voice. "The wand creation holds great promise - the feather from Father, the wood from the Ring of Wrath, the magical core from The New Realm - it's a fusion of power and heritage that's just waiting to be unlocked."

His hands danced through the air as he spoke, the excitement of what could come from such a powerful artifact igniting his spirit. "What could such a wand do in the hands of a Goetic Prince or Princess? What secrets does it hold?"

His mind raced with the possibilities, each more exciting than the last. Then, his thoughts turned to the gifts yet to come.

"And what of Uncle Andrealphus, Mother... Stella." His voice softened at the mention of their mother, a ripple of emotion running through him. "What future gifts might they bestow upon us?"

"And what of Francesco?" Octavius suddenly added, unable to suppress a mischievous grin. "What do you suppose he'll give you?"

The teasing glint in his eyes should have warned Octavia of his impending jest. "Perhaps a..." he paused for a dramatic effect, "...dildo?" He let out a hearty laugh, the punchline echoing off the walls of their grand throne room.

Before he had the chance to recover, Octavia, face flushed with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment, swiftly reached out to smack the back of his head. The sudden impact made him jerk forward, his laughter tapering off into a sheepish chuckle.

"That's quite enough out of you!" Octavia scolded, though a hint of a smile threatened to crack her stern facade.

As Octavius recovered from Octavia's light reprimand, his grin returned, but this time there was a twinkle of mischievous delight in his eyes. A clear signal that he was about to drop a surprise.

"Now, now, Octavia," he began, leaning back into the comforting embrace of his throne. "Don't get too cross with me. After all, I do have a surprise for you."

Her stern expression faltered, curiosity replacing annoyance. In their past experiences, surprises from Octavius could range from pleasantly amusing to utterly shocking. "A surprise?" she echoed, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Indeed." Octavius nodded, a smug smirk adorning his face. "But, alas, you'll have to wait. It's a party surprise, after all."

Oct's and Via's Palace, Pride Ring

July 31st, 1991

With Octavius's hint of a surprise hanging in the air, the throne room burst into action. A team of hellhound servants scurried around the large, opulent space, their feet clicking against the stone floor as they carried armfuls of jewel-toned fabrics and golden fixtures. Decorations started appearing everywhere - banners of velvety purples and blues hung from the tall ceilings, their ends brushed with tassels of gold.

Ruby-lit torches were placed strategically along the walls, their warm glow bouncing off the high, ornate stone walls, casting long shadows that danced in rhythm with the flickering flames. Tables were draped with luxurious tablecloths, painstakingly embroidered with arcane symbols, and a mix of empty goblets, bottles of the finest Hellish brew, and platters for the impending feast filled their surfaces.

Overseeing it all was Octavius, sitting on his throne, his eyes taking in the controlled chaos with an appreciative smile. Every now and then, a demon would approach him, asking for approval or directions, and he would respond with a nod or a swift command.

Octavia, on the other hand, had her hands full coordinating with the palace's kitchen staff. She flitted between the gargantuan stoves and the large prep tables, guiding the lesser demons through complex recipes. Her stern yet patient voice echoed off the kitchen walls, occasionally spiced up with a hearty laugh or an encouraging word. The air was thick with the delightful smell of roasting meats and bubbling sauces, promising a feast fit for the princes of Hell.

The anticipation was palpable in every corner of the palace. All knew that tonight's celebration was not just an ordinary birthday party - it was an event of monumental significance, a grand celebration for the Goetic twins, and the promise of a surprise from Octavius only added to the mounting excitement. As the last touches were added, and the first stars of the hellish night sky began to glimmer outside, the palace of Imp City was ready to host the grandest birthday party it had ever seen.

As Octavius lifted his hand, a brilliant array of colors spilled from his fingertips, casting an otherworldly glow throughout the vast halls of the palace. The color of the air itself seemed to shift, mirroring the colors of the Hogwarts Houses - Gryffindor's scarlet and gold, Ravenclaw's blue and bronze, Hufflepuff's yellow and black, and Slytherin's green and silver.

The fabric banners morphed into the vivid colors and crest of each House, glowing in the warm, hellfire-lit surroundings. In an enchanting display of magic, they rearranged themselves, floating through the air, hanging alongside each other just as they did in the Hogwarts Great Hall.

Taking a step further in his magical decoration, Octavius raised his other hand, bringing it down in a sweeping motion. In response, the stone of the palace began to reshape and restructure. Arches gave way to Hogwarts's familiar gothic windows, allowing the eerie Hellish light to filter through, casting a dimly lit glow on the spaces below.

He gestured again, and grand fireplaces appeared sporadically, their warm hearths reminiscent of those in the Gryffindor common room. With another wave, the stone floors of the palace transmuted into the wood-paneled floors of the corridors in Hogwarts, and long tables, similar to those in the Great Hall, began to form in the main party area.

By the end of his magical transformation, parts of the palace bore a striking resemblance to the Hogwarts campus. A ghostly version of the castle in hell. It was a sight to behold, and a fitting tribute to Octavius's human future, entwined with the Hellish present.

As the preparations reached their zenith, a sudden hush descended on the room. The reason became clear as the grand double doors swung open, and three majestic figures entered. The first, Stolas, moved with a regality that seemed to make the very air around him thrum with power. His feathers shone an iridescent azure in the light of the torches, and his eyes, a vivid red, surveyed the room with a mix of pride and approval.

Behind him came Stella, her aura no less intimidating. Her form shimmered like stardust, beautiful yet untouchable. Her dark eyes sparkled with curiosity as she swept her gaze over the transformed palace, and a mysterious smile graced her avian lips.

Andrealphus followed closely behind. His icy feathers gleamed under the torchlight, and his eyes, bright and shrewd, flicked over the room's layout. An almost smug grin played on his lips, as if he knew a secret no one else did.

As they moved further into the palace, the hustle of the party preparations resumed, now tinged with a renewed vigor. Octavius, noticing their arrival, descended from his throne to greet them. As they exchanged pleasantries and shared a few hearty laughs, the spirit of the party seemed to rise, filling the room with an undeniable sense of anticipation and excitement.

As the grand trio made their entrance, Octavia, eyes gleaming, sprang from her throne and moved with graceful speed towards them. Her usually aloof demeanor fell away as she greeted her father with a warm, heartfelt hug. Stolas, taken aback for a moment, soon returned the hug with equal affection, a proud smile adorning his beaked face.

Meanwhile, Octavius approached Stella and Andrealphus, his stance relaxed yet poised. His gaze fell on Stella first, his eyes softening with genuine fondness. "Mother," he greeted, reaching out to take her hands in his own. "Thank you for coming. Your presence graces our celebration."

Stella's dark eyes twinkled with warmth as she looked at her son, the picture of confidence and leadership. "My dear boy," she replied, "I wouldn't miss this for anything."

Turning to Andrealphus, Octavius extended a handshake, a friendly smile on his face. "Uncle, it means a great deal to have you here. We are indeed honored."

Andrealphus, his gaze still skimming the grandeur of the palace, paused, a flash of curiosity in his golden eyes. His stare settled on the banners that adorned the palace walls, each one bearing a vibrant hue that reminded him of... "This is an odd choice of décor, Octavius," he mused, an eyebrow arched in intrigue.

Each banner bore an uncanny resemblance to the house colors of a certain school of wizardry in the human world. Andrealphus' stare lingered on one in particular. It was emblazoned with a silver serpent on a green background, colors far removed from the usual Goetia regalia. His sharp gaze darted back to Octavius, a silent question hanging in the air.

Octavius, following his gaze, chuckled. "Ah, yes," he replied, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "A tribute to a certain... institution of the mortal realm. You might say it's a hint of what is yet to come."

Andrealphus looked back at the banner, his intrigue deepening. The banner clearly held a significance beyond mere aesthetics. His mind was already spinning with possibilities, eager to unravel the mystery. He turned back to Octavius, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips. "Well then, I look forward to seeing what you have in store," he said, a clear challenge in his tone.

Stella's gaze had been following the exchange, her keen mind at work as she studied her son's demeanor. "Octavius," she began, her voice smooth as silk yet commanding, "You've always had a mind for grand schemes. What is your plan now?"

Octavius turned to face his mother, his eyes sparkling with unspoken ambitions. "Mother," he said, a hint of pride in his voice, "I aim to elevate our family's status further still, and increase our power. We will not merely exist, we will flourish."

Stella, while pleased with his words, couldn't shake off the intrigue that had been seeded by the mysterious banners. "This institution you speak of, in the mortal realm...," she started, but her query was cut short by the sudden arrival of a new presence.

King Paimon made his entrance, his presence commanding attention like the sun commands the sky. He moved with an easy grace, a congenial smile on his face, yet his eyes held the wisdom of the ages. "Ah, what a joyous gathering!" he exclaimed, his booming voice echoing through the palace halls, effectively interrupting the conversation. His gaze settled on Octavius, a spark of interest glinting in his eyes. "My grandson, the star of the occasion. It seems there is much to look forward to."

Octavius, catching Paimon's gaze, chuckled lightly before gesturing towards Octavia who was now in deep conversation with their father, Stolas. "It's not just me, Grandfather. Octavia shares the spotlight as well," Octavius corrected.

Paimon glanced in Octavia's direction, a warm smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Ah, of course. How could I forget the Princess?" His gaze returned to Octavius, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "So, tell me... any potential suitresses I should know of? Or suitors for Octavia perhaps?" His voice held a lighthearted tease, but behind it was the weight of his curiosity, keen and probing.

Octavius laughed, a rich sound that echoed through the grand hall. "Grandfather," he began, his voice holding an amused lilt, "If I were to name every potential lover that has been suggested for me, we'd be here until the dawn of the next century."

He paused, casting a sidelong glance at Octavia. "As for Octavia, she's as elusive as ever. It seems she is more interested in her books and studies than in finding a partner. And truly, who can blame her? Knowledge, after all, is a lover that never disappoints."

Overhearing the conversation, Octavia detached herself from her father's side and made her way over, her violet eyes sparkling with amusement. "Brother, you speak as though you're the reigning champion of courtship," she quipped, her voice light and teasing. "We all know you collect names as one collects butterflies. Beautiful, intriguing... but ultimately unattainable."

Octavius raised a brow at her, but the smile on his face suggested he wasn't truly offended. "And what of you, sister?" he countered, echoing their grandfather's earlier question. "Is there no one who's caught your eye?"

Octavia shrugged, her expression becoming somewhat thoughtful. "Not as of yet," she admitted. "Perhaps I'm simply waiting for someone who can offer more than just a pretty face. Intelligence, wit... a shared passion for knowledge and the pursuit of understanding. Those are the things that will catch my attention."

Her response earned her approving nods from both Stolas and Paimon, her ideals clearly reflecting their own. Octavius, on the other hand, chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement. "Well, we can't all be as discerning as you, Octavia," he joked, earning him an affectionate swat from his sister.

With the conversations slowly simmering down, Octavius retreated back to his throne, the grand piece of furniture made from a blend of ebonwood and silver, its surface etched with runes of power. He settled into its contours, the throne seemingly welcoming its master with an ethereal warmth.

A wave of his hand was all it took to make three luxurious new thrones appear. One bore the symbol of Paimon, indicating that it was fit for a king, while another was lined with designs resembling feathers in homage to Stolas. The third and grandest of them all sported an eye-catching Morningstar insignia — the only seat worthy of Lucifer himself.

"King Paimon, father, please," Octavius gestured towards the two newly formed thrones. "These are for you. And when Lucifer arrives, he will take his seat next to you."

As the grand doors of the hall were thrown open, an array of avian figures began to flock in, their distinct features betraying their noble Goetian lineage. They were an impressive ensemble; wings of various sizes fanned out, catching the glint of the hall's lights, eyes of all colors scrutinized their surroundings, and beaks of various shapes muttered greetings.

Among them was the notable Duke Zepar, his majestic falcon features exuding an aura of untouchable grace, and the vibrant Prince Francesco, his parrot-like demeanor commanding the respect of everyone present.

However, what truly drew Octavius's attention was not these nobles, but a girl. A young Goetian female named Estrella. She was a lowborn, but her eyes held the clarity of the midnight sky and her feathers, as white as snow, framed her face like an ethereal veil. Her gentle features echoed those of a Barn Owl, giving her a distinctive charm. Estrella, a name as alluring as her appearance, was also celebrating her birthday that day, like Octavius.

Octavius found himself momentarily caught off guard. His eyes widened, and he swallowed, his mind racing to accommodate this unexpected development. The lowborn girl had undoubtedly disturbed his many plans.

From his side, Octavia's soft chuckle rippled through the air. "Well, brother," she murmured, an amused glint in her eyes. "It seems this Estrella has singlehandedly upended fifty of your intricate plans." There was a light teasing tone in her voice, and her eyes danced with mirth at her brother's discomfiture.

The arrival of the remaining guests brought with it an increasing level of anticipation, each entrance stirring up the ambiance within the hall. And then, without any further delay, the Prince of Lust himself made his grand entrance. Asmodeus, a figure whose mere presence commanded attention, walked into the hall, a broad, infectious grin spread across his face. His charismatic aura resonated throughout the room, eliciting a wave of energy among the attendees.

He approached Octavius and Octavia, his strides confident and purposeful, joy dancing in his eyes. "Octavius, Octavia," he greeted with an unmistakable warmth, his voice echoing throughout the grand hall. "Happy birthday to you both!"

The prince reached into his robes and produced two sizable bags. The soft clinking sound they made hinted at their valuable contents. Without further ado, he placed the bags next to Octavius and Octavia, a knowing glint in his eyes. The bags shimmered in the light, revealing the treasures they held - an abundant amount of Asmodean Crystals, their radiance glowing brightly against the dim backdrop.

Two distinctive figures emerged from the depths of the crowd, causing a hush to fall over the gathered assembly. Both were Goetic demons, but of an extraordinary nature, their otherworldly auras setting them apart from the rest. The first was a striking Owl Demon, donned in mystic robes that swirled around him, swirling patterns of stars and galaxies shimmering upon the cloth. The second was a female Barn Owl demon, her dark robes enigmatic, concealing all but the glint of her fiery gaze beneath.

As they made their way towards the throne, Octavius felt an odd sense of recognition, a familiar energy stirring within him. The Owl Demon before him lifted his hood, revealing piercing eyes of ancient wisdom that held a mesmerizing allure. It was a sight that one could never forget; the eyes of a dragon. "Nocturne," Octavius breathed, his surprise unmistakable.

Nocturne advanced, his every movement exuding grace and a quiet strength that caused an aura of respectful silence to fall upon the assembly. As he ascended the steps to Octavius's throne, his gaze held a depth that went far beyond mere years, holding an eternity's worth of wisdom.

"Blessings from the Void Dragons, Prince Octavius," he began, his voice resonating through the room, low and vibrant.

Reaching out, Nocturne pressed his claw against Octavius's hand, the intimate gesture stirring a surge of warmth within him. A low incantation slipped from the dragon's lips, a string of ancient words that seemed to echo around the room before settling into a quiet hum.

Suddenly, Octavius felt a warm rush of power emanate from the touch, spreading through his veins like molten gold. His vision shifted, the world taking on an ethereal glow, and the disguised dragon before him shone brilliantly with an aura of mystic power. It was a breathtaking sight, Nocturne's Goetic form shimmering as if overlaid with the magnificent silhouette of his true, draconic self.

His breath hitched as he realized he wasn't just seeing Nocturne. Turning his gaze around the room, he saw countless auras flicker into existence, each one corresponding to the form of a dragon. A hundred dragons, hidden in plain sight, all invisible to the demons present, yet fully perceptible to him and Octavia.

A silent understanding passed between the brother and sister as they took in the sight, a connection that only they could comprehend. The mystical sight not only filled them with awe but also a profound sense of humility and gratitude towards the grandeur of the Void Dragons.

With reverence, Octavius lowered his head, a tribute to the ancient wisdom and mighty spirits that enveloped the room. Each pulse of his being echoed with the rhythm of their vast existence, the powerful energy resonating within him.

Suddenly, a mystical transformation began to manifest in front of everyone. The Goetian owl-demon known as Nocturne started to alter and shape-shift, his form flickering and expanding with an otherworldly glow. The hall echoed with gasps of surprise, demons stepping back as the spectacle unfolded before their eyes.

From the fluid swirl of transformation emerged a new form. No longer an owl-like demon, but a magnificent dragon in the form of a Wyrmling. Despite its smaller size, which could be compared to a large dog, it held a grandeur and majesty that was far beyond its physical dimensions. The dragon's scales shimmered like the black expanse of the cosmos, each one twinkling like a distant star. Its eyes held an ancient depth, a wisdom that told tales of epochs.

In unison with Nocturne's transformation, the mysterious female barn owl Goetian standing next to Octavia began her own metamorphosis. The crowd watched with wide eyes as her figure shimmered, contorted, and grew. An aura of incandescent light enveloped her, glowing brighter with each passing moment, casting beautiful and ethereal shadows that danced across the hall.

The veil of light gradually faded, revealing the magnificent form of Nebula, a Wyrmling. Though her size was similar to that of a large dog, her magnificence was impossible to ignore. Her scales bore the hues of twilight, a mesmerizing dance of purples, blues, and silvers that shifted and shimmered with each movement. Her eyes, full of an ancient wisdom, shimmered like twin sapphire stars, illuminating the depth of her existence.

Nocturne, the Wyrmling, took his place with grace and dignity beside Octavius. His small but commanding form exuded an undeniable aura of power, his obsidian scales catching the light and glittering with a spectral glow. His iridescent eyes, the very color of the void from which he took his name, beheld Octavius with a warmth only shared among those bound by deep respect and friendship.

As Nocturne sat beside him, Octavius felt a gentle brush against his mind, as if a soft wind had blown through the chambers of his thoughts. It was a sensation he recognized instantly, the telepathic bond they shared.

"Nocturne," Octavius acknowledged the presence in his mind, his mental tone filled with respect.

"Octavius," came the gentle, echoing voice of the dragon, resonating within the depths of his consciousness. "The dragons of the Void are in your debt."

There was a pause, and Octavius could sense a kind of humble gratitude emanating from the dragon. "Our gifts to you will not cease with the passing of this day. As the stars shine in the endless expanse of the cosmos, so too will our gratitude be eternal. May the magic we bestow upon you today serve you well in the times to come."

With all eyes transfixed on the spectacle of Nocturne's transformation and the echoing words of the telepathic bond, a sudden chill swept through the grand hall. It was a sensation that had everyone turning their heads towards the grand entrance of the palace. Even the luminescent glow of the Void Dragons paled in comparison to the raw, unadulterated power that now permeated the room. It was an arrival that required no formal announcement, a presence that commanded the utmost respect.

Lucifer, the King of Hell himself, had arrived.

The towering demon stood at the entrance, exuding an aura of strength and sovereignty that was almost palpable. His eyes, glowing embers of the deepest red, scanned the hall before falling upon Octavius and Octavia. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a rare sign of approval from the stern king.

Lucifer was accompanied by Lilith, Queen of Hell and a figure of just as impressive authority. Together they filled the room with an aura of fear and respect, silencing the once-lively atmosphere. Tagging along behind them was their daughter Charlie, who had inherited her parents' commanding presence and was just as easily identified. Her entrance did not match the grandeur of her parents', but she still managed to attract the attention of all those in attendance.

With a hearty laugh that echoed throughout the cavernous hall, Lucifer turned back to Octavius, a twinkle of admiration in his crimson eyes. "Indeed, your little game with the Sinner's souls... absolutely ingenious. You've put an end to those childish dreams of redemption my dear Charlie clung to so tenaciously," he announced, his voice brimming with amusement.

"And for such accomplishments," he continued, a pair of finely carved boxes materializing in his hands, "I believe gifts of significance are in order."

The boxes were handed to Octavius and Octavia. Their surfaces were intricate, carved with symbols and scripts that danced and shimmered under the grandeur of the hall's light. The surprise etched on their faces was palpable as they opened the boxes, each revealing a branch from the legendary "Devil Tree", a tree said to have grown from the fruit of forbidden knowledge.

The Devil Tree's branches were revered for their extraordinary properties and potency. Their faces lit up with delight as they realized that these branches could be used to craft the most formidable wands, a notion that did not escape the keen eye of Lucifer.

"Ah, those expressions," Lucifer chuckled, his laughter resonating within the hall. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched Octavius and Octavia, their surprise giving way to delight. "I thought you might enjoy these little presents. I'm well aware of your aspirations... these should assist you greatly in your impending journey to the mortal realm."

With a satisfied smile playing on his lips, Lucifer moved with an air of effortless grandeur, crossing the vast expanse of the throne room until he stood before the magnificently crafted seat that Octavius had prepared for him. It was an impressive sight, a throne rivaling his own in Hell, wrought with intricate designs and commanding an undeniable presence.

He took a moment to examine it, a low chuckle escaping him as he looked over to Octavius, a glint of approval flashing in his eyes. Then, with a sweep of his regal robes, he gracefully descended onto the throne, the atmosphere of the room shifting ever so slightly to accommodate the sovereign presence now seated at its heart.

Once comfortably settled, Lucifer lifted his hand, silence falling over the room as all eyes turned to him. A wry smile curled his lips, his gaze sweeping over his gathered subjects, demons of all ranks and bloodlines waiting with bated breath for his command.

"Let the festivities begin," he proclaimed, his deep, resonant voice echoing throughout the hall.

Estrella, the captivating Barn Owl Goetian, moved gracefully across the room towards Octavius. Her plumage shimmered in the light, captivating all who glanced her way. Her eyes sparkled with intrigue as she approached the Prince, and with a tilt of her head, she requested, "May I have this dance, my Lord?"

Octavius glanced at his grandfather, Paimon, who was grinning knowingly and nodded at him encouragingly. Across from them, Stolas watched with a hawk's vigilance, his gaze never leaving his son as he measured the potential intentions of the young female. But Octavius saw something more than caution in his father's eyes. He saw approval, respect, and perhaps a hint of his own youthful zest.

With a smile gracing his lips, Octavius rose from his throne, extending his hand to Estrella. "I would be honored, Lady Estrella."

The chatter in the hall quieted as they moved to the center of the floor, the other guests watching with anticipation. The music swelled as they took their places, their movements synchronized in an elegant dance that captured the attention of every onlooker.

Meanwhile, Prince Francesco, the flamboyant Parrot Demon known for his vibrant plumage and even more vibrant personality, moved towards Octavia. With a flamboyant bow, he asked, "Princess Octavia, would you do me the honor of joining me for a dance?"

Octavia, taken aback but appreciating the gesture, smiled at Francesco. "Why, Prince Francesco," she said, her eyes glinting with amusement, "I'd be delighted."

As the dance floor filled with a diverse blend of the high-born, low-born, and those of lower standing, the hellhounds too embraced the festivities. Their gruff barks and roars of laughter echoing through the grand hall as they enjoyed the revelry, unfettered by the usual chains of hierarchy.

In the midst of this lively atmosphere, Octavius danced with Estrella, their movements fluid and harmonious. The vibrant energy of the crowd seemed to only heighten the connection between them as they continued to share the dance.

Feeling a genuine interest in the captivating Barn Owl demoness, Octavius ventured to know more about her. "You have a grace about you that I've not seen in many, Estrella," he began. "Might I ask of your lineage? Your history?"

Estrella chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I was wondering when you'd ask, Prince Octavius. I come from a line of Goetians who influenced the druids, born in the times of the Celts. Our history intertwines with the legends of King Arthur and Emrys...or Merlin, as he's more commonly known."

Octavius's eyes widened in intrigue. His curiosity was piqued, a spark kindled by tales of ancient heroes, legendary kings, and the mighty sorcerer. His respect for Estrella deepened, acknowledging the strength and resilience of her lineage.

"King Arthur and Merlin, you say?" He said, interest clearly etched in his features. "I would love to hear more about this. The tales of Arthur and his round table, Merlin's magic... they've always fascinated me."

Estrella's smile widened at his enthusiasm. "Then, my Lord, you are in luck. I'd be more than happy to share our tales with you. Perhaps, when this dance ends?"

Octavius nodded, the promise of a shared tale and the chance to know Estrella better fueling his anticipation for the end of their dance.

While Octavius and Estrella shared their stories, across the ballroom, Octavia was locked in her own dance with Prince Francesco. The towering Parrot Demon moved with an unexpected grace, his flamboyantly colored feathers fluttering with each step, matching the rhythm of the music perfectly.

The nobles around them watched in admiration, their own dances momentarily forgotten. They marveled at the synchronization between Octavia and Francesco, their movements so fluid it was as if they were a single entity, gliding across the dance floor.

Francesco, true to his nature, was playful and charming. His eyes were always lit with a touch of mirth, a sense of humor that could make anyone around him laugh. He led Octavia with a confident hand, his movements smooth and effortless.

Octavia, on her part, matched his pace perfectly. Her eyes sparkled with delight, her laughter a musical note that added to the symphony of the ongoing celebration. Her elegance was a stark contrast to Francesco's vibrant flamboyance, yet together, they seemed to create a harmonious balance.

As they twirled, dipped, and spun, the world seemed to blur around them. All Octavia could see was Francesco's bright eyes, all she could hear was his laughter, all she could feel was the warmth of his hand guiding her.

The dance ended with a flourish, Francesco spinning Octavia one last time before pulling her into a sweeping bow. As they rose, the crowd erupted into applause, their performance captivating everyone present.

They exchanged smiles, a silent acknowledgement of the dance well-performed. For a fleeting moment, they were not two royal figures bound by duty and status, they were simply Francesco and Octavia, lost in the euphoria of dance.

As the music shifted and partners exchanged, Octavia found herself facing a strikingly unusual dance partner. Her fur was predominantly white, with patches of grey accentuating her features. Encircling her face was a darker grey, bringing attention to her pointed, canine-like muzzle. Her teeth were sharp and pointy, an intimidating display set against her dark grey nose.

Loona was her name, announced in a tone that was both gruff and intriguing. Her eyes were a captivating blend of red sclera and white irises, and were accented by dark grey eyeshadow. On her right eyebrow was a piercing, a little detail that added to her overall charm.

Her voluminous silver hair was swept to the side, revealing dark grey ears, one adorned with two small hoop earrings, while the other was ragged and untamed. As she moved, the long, bushy tail, dark grey with a white underside, swished rhythmically with her steps.

Her attire was just as unique as her. A spiked black choker circled her neck, while a tattered grey crop-top, held up by crisscross spaghetti-straps forming an inverted pentagram, revealed her toned shoulders. Her shorts were tattered at the hems, a crescent moon detail on the right side catching the light every now and then. Fingerless gloves and black toeless stockings adorned her limbs, with sharp black claws protruding from her digitigrade stance.

As Loona led Octavia into the dance, the princess found herself drawn into the unique energy of her new partner. Her movements were unpolished yet fluid, exuding an air of wild rebellion that was both daunting and exhilarating. Despite the uncanny nature of the encounter, Octavia found herself thoroughly enjoying the dance, the chaotic energy of Loona invigorating her in a way she hadn't expected.

In the midst of the festivities, a commotion from the entrance caught the attention of many. A familiar imp with mismatched eyes, one blue and the other green, was caught in the grasp of several imposing Hellhound guards. Blitzo, known for his unpredictable nature and well-documented shenanigans, seemed to be at the center of this disruption.

Stolas, with his sharp avian features and regal presence, rose from his throne. His owl-like eyes flashed with recognition and amusement at the sight of the struggling imp. "Release him, leave this Imp to me," Stolas commanded, his voice resounding through the grand hall. The guards, with a hint of hesitation, released their grip on the imp.

The room was filled with murmurs of uncertainty and curiosity, but Stolas simply beckoned the imp forward, an almost mischievous grin playing on his beak. He gestured for Blitzo to follow him, a silent promise of an interesting turn of events hidden in his gaze.

Blitzo, now free from the clutches of the Hellhounds, straightened his attire with a nonchalant air, then followed Stolas without a word. The pair disappeared into an adjacent corridor, leaving the guests with a lingering sense of curiosity and an evening of entertainment they wouldn't forget.

As the music swelled around them, Octavia found herself lost in the rhythm, her steps matching Loona's with an easy grace. The wolf-like Hellhound had a unique energy, a captivating allure that made her a fascinating dance partner.

"You're quite the dancer," Octavia complimented, the corners of her mouth curling up into a genuine smile.

Loona returned the gesture with a shrug, "Not really a fan of these events, but if there's dancing... count me in."

Despite her tough exterior, Octavia could see a spark in Loona's eyes, a shared love for the escape that dancing offered. It was a brief, fleeting connection but one that added a special flavor to the evening.

The pair twirled and spun, their laughter and conversation drowned in the music but shared in their expressive eyes. The dance was filled with shared smiles and understanding nods, a silent conversation taking place in the whirl of the dance.

As the dance drew to a close, Octavia glanced at Loona, "I must admit, this has been one of the more enjoyable dances."

Loona grinned, the playful glint in her eyes hinting at the shared sentiment, "Likewise. Perhaps we should do this more often."

In the middle of their twirls and elegant steps, Loona and Octavia's eyes drifted across the room to where Octavius danced with Estrella. Even from a distance, it was clear that Octavius was utterly captivated by the enigmatic Goetian.

"He's certainly taken a liking to her," Loona remarked, her voice lilting with amusement. Her bright white eyes, ringed with vibrant red, watched the pair with a curious interest.

Octavia chuckled lightly, her gaze softening as she watched her brother. He seemed so engrossed in their conversation, his usual airs and graces discarded in favor of genuine interest and warmth. "It seems so. It's not often he's so... enamored."

A silence fell between the two dancers, both watching the other pair with keen interest. Loona's eyes held a spark of mischief, whereas Octavia's held a sisterly affection. They danced, their gazes never straying far from the sight of Octavius and Estrella, lost in a world of their own.

As the song began to reach its climax, Octavius spun Estrella outwards, her elegant form twirling with a graceful whirlwind of color. The palace court watched in awe as the pair, seemingly attuned to each other's rhythm, moved with enchanting synchrony.

As the final notes hung in the air, Octavius pulled Estrella back towards him. She spun, her cloak flaring out around her as she moved. With a firm but gentle grasp, Octavius lifted her into the air. Her feet lifted off the ground, just before he lowered her down gently to the continuation of the dance.

Their dance ended with Estrella, elegant as a night bird in flight, descending from her lofty perch back into Octavius's arms. The court erupted into applause as Octavius set Estrella down, their faces close and their breaths intertwining.

With the dance concluded, Octavius gave a gallant bow to Estrella before extending his hand. His eyes were warm, a silent invitation reflected in them. "Please, join me," he said, his voice carrying a touch of sincerity.

With a wave of his hand, a throne materialized next to his own. Its appearance was regal, a manifestation of his own influence and power, yet it held a softness, a comfort that seemed tailored for Estrella.

Taking her hand, he guided her towards the newly formed throne. The court watched as Estrella, a lowborn Goetian, was led to a place of honor beside one of the most influential figures in Hell.

Meanwhile, Octavia, her cheeks slightly flushed from the exhilarating dance with Loona, ascended to her own throne. She was not to be outdone by her brother. With a decisive wave, two regal seats appeared by her side. One was unmistakably for Loona, the other for the charming Prince Francesco.

As they took their seats, the court couldn't help but murmur in anticipation. A sense of excitement ran through the court. The party, it seemed, was just beginning.

The room grew quiet as the last notes of music faded away into the night. Now that the dancing was over, it was time for the most anticipated part of the night - the presentation of gifts. The court leaned forward in their seats with curiosity and excitement, eager to see what tokens of affection the guests had brought for Octavius and Octavia.

From the Ars Goetia nobility, Octavius and Octavia received grand relics of old, artifacts imbued with ancient power, the details of which were whispered among the crowd. There were scrolls of forgotten spells, amulets forged from otherworldly minerals, and rare texts that held the secrets of ancient wisdom.

Prince Francesco, with a playful grin, handed Octavia a beautifully crafted pendant, its jewel gleaming in the light of the room. A hush fell over the court, followed by an eruption of approving murmurs. Meanwhile, Estrella offered Octavius a hand-crafted talisman, an emblem from her family's lineage, its age-old Celtic patterns intricate and captivating.

One by one, the guests approached the thrones, offering their gifts and well-wishes. The piles grew higher and more eclectic with each passing moment, as the spectrum of gifts ranged from the extravagant to the heartfelt, each reflecting the personality of the givers.

As the clamor of the festivities subsided, a hush fell over the crowd, signaling the much-awaited moment. Octavius and Octavia stood before a table adorned with the raw gifts meant to craft their wands - the blackened branches of the Devil Tree.

Octavius approached the table, bearing the Devil Tree's branch and with the feather of King Paimon, one that his grandfather happily shed for him. Holding the black branch in one hand and the feather in the other, a look of deep concentration etched on his face. On his other side, Octavia held her father's feather, her fingers grazing over its softness.

In the silent room, the siblings closed their eyes, reaching into the depths of their powers. A pulsating energy field enveloped them, flickering with hues of crimson and indigo, mirroring their individual auras.

Simultaneously, they brought the feather and the branch together. A shockwave of magic spread across the room as the components fused. The branches began to warp and twist, taking the form of an intricate wand under the magical manipulation of the siblings.

Next, Nocturne and Nebula stepped forward. The dragons, in a rare display of magic, released a stream of shimmering mist, the very essence of Void Dragons, which spiraled toward the forming wands. The wand cores accepted this mystical essence, adding to their own magical conductivity.

When the transformation was complete, two finely carved wands lay on the table. Octavius's wand was strong and domineering, reflecting his firm resolve, while Octavia's was elegant and delicate, echoing her nurturing personality. Both radiated immense magical energy, the very essence of Void Dragons humming within them, making them artifacts of immeasurable power.

With the magical climax of the night, Octavius stood, holding his newly crafted wand high, the magical aura shimmering around it reflecting in his eyes. His voice resonated through the hall, "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for celebrating this monumental day with us. The formal proceedings of the night may have concluded, but let the festivities continue!"

With a grand gesture, he pointed towards the galleria, "Feast, drink, and enjoy the rest of the evening. May the spirit of our celebration continue till the break of dawn!"

The crowd cheered in response, slowly trickling out of the throne room, their murmurs and laughter echoing in the grand space.

Once the room was nearly emptied, Octavius turned to a group who had lingered behind - Dusk, Noctus, Gylfie, Francesco, and the captivating Estrella. Octavia stood beside him, her newly made wand twinkling under the soft light.

"You five," Octavius gestured, a serious yet warm expression on his face, "Stay. We have matters to discuss."

Octavius and Octavia moved to sit back on their thrones, their presence dominating the room. Their eyes turned to their five guests, a soft but serious expression on their faces.

"You aren't here because you're in trouble," Octavius began, his voice echoing through the quiet room. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

"You are our friends, our companions," Octavia added, her gaze sweeping over the five demons before her. "And we want to include you in something. Something that will... shift the course of our lives."

Estrella, the barn owl Goetian demoness, tilted her head slightly, her gaze unwavering. "What do you mean?" she asked, a hint of intrigue in her voice.

Octavia locked eyes with her, a soft smile on her lips. "Estrella," she said. "How familiar are you with the concepts of destiny and prophecy?" Her question hung in the air, rousing a sense of curiosity and anticipation among the group.

Estrella's eyes sparkled with a thoughtful look as she considered Octavia's question. "I'm quite familiar, thanks to the legends that surround Merlin and the times of King Arthur," she replied. "They have been passed down in my family for generations."

Octavius nodded, a serious look in his eyes. "Good," he said. "Because since my birth, I have been involved in a prophecy. I am destined to fulfill it, whether I like it or not."

Estrella gasped lightly, her eyes widening at the revelation. The others in the group exchanged surprised glances, but remained silent, their attention completely focused on Octavius.

"But," Octavius continued, leaning forward in his throne. "I want to change that. I want us, not fate, to control the outcome. To decide our own destinies, and not be bound by some preordained fate. And I want all of you to be a part of it."

Octavius took a deep breath, leaning back in his throne as he met the gaze of his fellow demons. "Because of my humanity, I am still bound to the Mortal Realm," he began, his voice steady and resolute. "The human soul that is part of me, the one named Harry Potter, is attached to a Horcrux. This means that the one who tried to kill him... is connected to me."

He paused, letting the information sink in. His eyes moved to meet Estrella's, the glow of determination and resolve reflected in his gaze. "I do not wish to face this trial alone," he confessed, his voice slightly softer now. "I am set to attend Hogwarts, an ancient school in the Mortal Realm, to uncover the prophecy of my life. To understand the path that has been set out for me."

At the mention of Hogwarts, Estrella's eyes lit up with recognition. "Hogwarts!" she exclaimed. "That's the school that Merlin, or Emrys as he was known, attended. The stories of him have been passed down through my family for generations."

Octavius nodded, a small smile on his face at her enthusiasm. "Yes, the very same. The history is quite fascinating, is it not?" he asked, his interest piqued by her knowledge. "It seems we have a lot to learn from each other, and perhaps together, we can change the course of our destinies."

Octavia watched her brother and Estrella, a light chuckle escaping her lips as she leaned back in her throne. She couldn't help but appreciate the irony of the situation. With all the foresight they possessed, it was still fate that had intervened in the form of Estrella and the destiny her family represented.

Still, she didn't voice these thoughts out loud. Instead, she looked on, her gaze wandering from the excited face of Estrella to her brother's determined one, a small smile playing on her lips. There was a silent acknowledgement in her eyes, a quiet acceptance that, despite their attempts to shape their own paths, they were still entwined with the threads of fate. It was a thought that was both sobering and exhilarating, a dichotomy that was reflected in the glint of her eyes. But, for now, she was content to sit back and watch as the tapestry of their destiny continued to unfold.

Folding his hands in front of him, Octavius gazed at the gathered Goetians with a steady and serious gaze. "Octavia and I," he began, his voice carrying a weight that demanded attention, "have decided to attend this institution known as Hogwarts. But our ambition does not stop there."

He paused, letting the significance of his words settle over the room. "We aim to challenge the boundaries that this institution has set. Hogwarts, a place that has accepted witches and wizards for centuries, will be compelled to open its doors to us – demons."

His gaze hardened, a glint of determination shining in his eyes. "We will show them that we are more than the creatures they depict in their tales and folklore. We are Goetians, and we possess a depth of power and intelligence that surpasses many wizards and witches."

Silence met his words, the magnitude of his statement settling over the group. Octavius was challenging a centuries-old system, proposing a revolutionary idea that had the potential to alter the fate of not only themselves but also their entire realm.

"We will not be shunned into the shadows," Octavius continued, "we will stand tall, we will claim our rightful place, and we will thrive. And in doing so, we will rewrite the stories they've written about us."

The moment of silent agreement between the Goetians was abruptly broken by a sharp crack echoing in the grand throne room. The air shimmered, and Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, materialized in the room's center.

Her appearance was unmistakable: a tall woman, adorned in emerald green robes, the traditional witch's hat perched on her head, and a pair of spectacles resting on her pointed nose. She clutched a single parchment in her hands, the Hogwarts seal gleaming in the throne room's light.

A soft gasp filled the room as the assembled Goetians took in the sight of a human witch in their midst, with some displaying varying degrees of shock and intrigue. McGonagall herself seemed slightly disconcerted by the array of demons that surrounded her. A flicker of unease crossed her face, but she held herself tall, her chin lifted with determination.

"Minerva McGonagall," Octavius identified, a hint of amusement playing on his lips, not moving from his throne. His eyes were focused on the parchment she held.

"Indeed," McGonagall responded, her gaze sweeping across the room, holding a hint of wariness as she studied the assorted Goetians before finally settling on Octavius and Octavia.

Despite the undercurrent of tension, Octavius and Octavia looked entirely relaxed, as if they had anticipated this very moment and her precise location of apparition. A knowing look passed between them before Octavia addressed McGonagall.

"We've been expecting you, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall. We presume you've brought something of interest?"

With a swift nod, Minerva stepped forward, holding out the parchment in her hands to Octavius. "Indeed, a letter of acceptance for Harry Potter-I mean Octavius." The seal of Hogwarts gleamed ominously under the throne room's lights as she presented it.

Taking the letter from Minerva, Octavius examined the Hogwarts seal closely, an approving nod escaping him before he set the parchment aside. Turning his gaze back to Minerva, he leveled a steady look at her, his eyes reflecting the gravity of his next words.

"Deputy Headmistress McGonagall," Octavius began, leaning back into his throne with a composed air. His voice, when he spoke, was laced with a serious undertone that commanded attention, "We appreciate your swift delivery and your courage to come to this place. However, I must bring a request before you."

The room fell silent, the gathered Goetians observing the conversation with interest. Even the ever-stoic Minerva looked taken aback, her eyebrows raising ever so slightly as she waited for Octavius to continue.

"I propose," Octavius started, measuring each word carefully, "the possibility of accepting new students to Hogwarts. These students are of a different designation, you may say. They are not human, per se, but they are undeniably magical."

Minerva blinked, taking a moment to process the proposition before she composed herself, drawing herself up to her full height as she regarded Octavius with her stern gaze.

"Hogwarts is a place of learning for those of magical ability, Mr. Goetia, irrespective of their origin," she began, her tone formal and her voice echoing through the grand throne room. "Its mission is to mold young witches and wizards into responsible magic users. Your... acquaintances may not be human, but as you have mentioned, they are inherently magical. That said, it's unprecedented to consider such a request."

Her gaze, now appraising, flickered over the gathered Goetians who had held their breath in anticipation. They were an odd assortment of characters, so different from the students she was accustomed to, yet she could not deny the magical aura that surrounded them.

Minerva took a deep breath, addressing Octavius once again. "However, the world is changing, and perhaps Hogwarts should consider evolving with it. The decision is not mine alone to make. This matter will need to be discussed with the rest of the faculty and the Board of Governors. We must ensure the safety and harmony of our student body, as well as consider how we could adapt to provide an environment conducive to their learning."

Octavius leaned back in his throne, a thoughtful expression gracing his features. "Deputy Headmistress, taking this proposition to the Board of Governors would inadvertently expose the existence of Hell to many. I believe we both agree that it would not be ideal to bring uncontrolled chaos to the world," he began, his tone smooth and persuasive.

The demon prince was certainly aware of the protocol and hierarchy within the magical institution. He, however, was proposing something that could drastically alter the wizarding world. A proposal of this magnitude was not to be lightly shared or considered.

Octavia, catching onto her brother's train of thought, chimed in. "Our connections to the historical figures of King Solomon and Merlin are indeed strong, Deputy Headmistress. You stand here in the presence of their lineage and you have the unique opportunity to expand the knowledge of Hogwarts and the wizarding world in unprecedented ways."

Minerva listened intently, her eyes darting between the two siblings. They were right, of course. This decision could not be taken lightly, and her interaction with them, the direct descendants of such significant figures, did present an opportunity to learn more than any other witch or wizard could dream of. They had piqued her curiosity and aroused her sense of responsibility towards the growth of Hogwarts.

"Very well," she finally said, addressing Octavius. "I will discuss this matter with Albus directly. He does indeed have the authority and the discretion to deal with such issues." She gave a small nod of agreement. "This is not a decision to be made lightly, or hastily. We shall see what comes of it."

Octavius nodded at Minerva's words. He understood the gravity of the situation. Yet, there was another matter he wished to discuss. "Professor," he began, his tone equally serious and courteous. "I plan to arrive at Hogwarts a bit earlier than the usual timeline, in anticipation of an answer to our request."

He paused, casting a glance at Octavia before turning back to Minerva. "And on another note, I would like to suggest a slight...amendment, to the pet policy at Hogwarts," he proposed, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Before Minerva could respond, Octavius motioned towards the other end of the throne room. Slowly, a mystical figure emerged from the shadows, revealing the majestic form of Nocturne. At the same moment, Octavia gestured to her side, and another equally resplendent figure emerged, the magnificent Nebula.

Minerva's eyes widened as she took in the sight of the two Wyrmlings, awe momentarily replacing her stern exterior. Dragons weren't unheard of in the magical world, yet, these ones seemed different, more mystical, emanating an aura of magic unlike anything she had ever encountered. Octavius and Octavia's intentions were clear, they intended to bring these dragons along to Hogwarts.

"I think," Octavius added, a small smile playing on his lips as he observed Minerva's reaction, "Hogwarts could benefit from a bit more... dragonic companionship, don't you agree?"

Minerva McGonagall was nothing if not a stoic figure, schooled in the art of maintaining her composure even in the most extraordinary circumstances. But even she couldn't help the astonishment that flashed briefly in her eyes as she gazed upon the two majestic wyrmlings.

For a moment, she was rendered speechless, her thoughts swirling as she contemplated the potential consequences of allowing dragons – mystical or otherwise – into Hogwarts.

But then she drew a deep breath, her stern exterior reasserting itself as she studied Octavius and Octavia. "This... is certainly a first," she admitted, her Scottish brogue underlining each syllable with a hint of bemusement. "Hogwarts has never before housed dragons as student companions, and I daresay that the prospect would unsettle quite a few in the castle."

She paused, her gaze lingering on the dragons. They were magnificent creatures, and she had always had a fondness for magical creatures, even ones as potentially dangerous as dragons. But the safety of the students was paramount, and dragons were, after all, known for their fiery temperaments and formidable strength.

"However," she continued, her eyes flicking back to meet Octavius's gaze, "I'm aware that these are not ordinary circumstances. Your... request will require serious consideration from the Headmaster. For now, let me assure you that we will review it with the utmost care and discretion."

Octavius offered Minerva a respectful nod, his eyes gleaming with an understanding that reflected his respect for her wisdom and her position. "You are welcome here, Minerva McGonagall," he intoned, his voice echoing softly through the grand throne room. "This palace is open to you under my protection."

However, his gaze shifted slightly, indicating the vicinity where Lucifer resided. "But now might not be the best time, considering our... distinguished guest. The ruler of Hell is not someone most are comfortable with."

He paused for a beat, allowing his words to sink in, before continuing, "Return to your realm for now. You have given us much to anticipate, and rest assured, we will make our presence known at Hogwarts sooner than you might think."

Before Octavius could utter another word to his awaiting family, the regal figure of Minerva McGonagall stepped forth. Her stern gaze locked with Octavius's amused one as she raised a hand, halting the conversation.

"Octavius," her tone was firm, her words resolute. "I urge you, do not undertake any actions that may attract undue attention. The world beyond this place is aware of your existence, and I fear that any untoward happenings would only serve to fan the flames of chaos."

With her warning clearly stated, Minerva's gaze softened somewhat. There was an echo of something akin to respect in her eyes as she looked at Octavius. Giving him a curt nod, she then turned on her heel and with a faint pop, she was enveloped in a swirl of magic. A moment later, she disappeared from sight, leaving behind only a faint whisper of her presence and her words of caution. The throne room felt all the quieter without her firm presence. The deputy headmistress of Hogwarts was gone, having apparated back to the wizarding world from where she came.

With a broad sweep of his hand, Octavius opened the grand doors to the throne room. The engraved ebony gates creaked slightly as they parted, revealing the familiar faces of his family waiting in the hall. There stood his grandfather, Paimon, his father, Stolas, his mother, Stella, and his uncle, Andrealphus. Their eyes were filled with curiosity, having been intrigued by the powerful aura that had just vacated the room.

"Welcome, my dear family," Octavius greeted them, his voice echoing through the grand hall. "I have a proposition for you." A sly smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he allowed a dramatic pause to fill the air.

"Would you be interested in embarking on a little adventure with us to the Mortal Realm?"

Stolas' eyes flickered with intrigue, Paimon's expression brightened with interest, and both Stella and Andrealphus seemed to consider the offer seriously. Each of them, in their own way, seemed intrigued by the prospect, awaiting further information with anticipation shining in their eyes.

Palace going to Diagon Alley

July 31st, 1991

With the departure of Minerva McGonagall, the room fell into a buzz of activity as Octavius and Octavia prepared for their venture into the mortal realm. A hush descended over the room, with only the rustle of robes and the faint clinking of magical items being concealed filling the silence.

Octavius, Octavia, and their companions began to don mystical robes, each one appearing grander and more regal than the last. Their staffs, wands, and concealed magical items, some made for more unsavory situations, were examined meticulously and handled with the utmost care. Magic hummed in the air around them, crackling and pulsating with each adjustment and spell they performed.

Estrella, the young Barn Owl Goetian, held up the talisman she had given to Octavius earlier, her eyes keenly inspecting it. With a gentle murmuring of an incantation, she activated the magic imbued within, a faint shimmering glow encasing the piece of jewelry in response.

One by one, Octavius looked over his friends and family, ensuring they had their human transformations ready. It was a strange sight to see, these powerful demonic entities preparing to take on such frail, mortal forms. Yet the significance of their venture was not lost on any of them - they were stepping into a world of unknowns, and they would face it as one.

Paimon, the King and grandfather figure, morphed into a powerful being of undeniable attractiveness. His deep red eyes twinkled with an alien wisdom that sent shivers down his spine. His black hair swept back in a fierce forshadowing of what was to come, contrasting against dark streaks that hinted at untold mysteries. His regal air invaded every corner of the room with its sheer force, daring anyone to challenge its power. He even held a shining cane that resonated of the Goetian colors and symbols.

Stolas now appeared as a distinguished man in his early forties, with a head full of sleek, light-black hair and sharp, intelligent red eyes that were nearly the same shade as his fathers.

Stella was an ethereal beauty in her human form. Her hair was a deep shade of white, flowing over her shoulders in elegant waves, and her eyes were a brilliant red.

Andrealphus, the uncle, was a sight to behold. The transformation rendered him as a charming man in his early forties, with warm hazel eyes, icy blue hair, and a roguish smile that never quite left his face.

Dusk took the form of a youthful human, same age as Via and Oct, with a lean figure, unruly dark hair, and piercing amethyst eyes. His grin was still sly, a characteristic shared with his demon form.

Noctus resembled a more taller and bulkier kid in the same age group as Oct. His hair was black as the night, and his eyes were a deep, mesmerizing cobalt blue. His features were sharp, almost ethereal, and his stature was commanding yet graceful.

Gylfie turned into a petite, ivory-skinned girl, with platinum blonde hair that flowed down to her waist. Her eyes, now a striking crystal blue, sparkled with wisdom and mystery.

Francesco, the parrot demon, transformed into a vibrant young man with a wild array of red and green hair. His eyes, a captivating jade, sparkled with mischief and an insatiable curiosity, carrying the essence of his colorful parrot form.

Estrella, the Celtic Goetian, transformed into an enchanting young woman, her figure tall and graceful beyond her eleven years. Her skin held a sun-kissed glow, a rich golden-brown that seemed to gleam under the ethereal light. Her hair, a splendid chestnut brown, cascaded down in natural waves, and her eyes were an ethereal, stellar blue, mirroring the cosmos's boundless expanses. The aura she projected was at once magical and ancient, captivating anyone who dared to meet her gaze.

Standing next to her, Octavius, in his human form, shared her notable height for their age, with the air of maturity equally evident. He was the spitting image of an eleven-year-old Harry Potter - a tousled mass of jet-black hair, bright, emerald violet eyes that possessed an intensity beyond his years, and a slight yet resolute frame. He was garbed in mystical robes of royal purple and gold, accentuating his regal demeanor. However, the most distinguishing feature was the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, a mark he couldn't conceal. It was a stark reminder of his peculiar destiny, adding an intriguing depth to his youthful face and hinting at a journey of trials and triumphs that was yet to fully unfold.

Octavia, just like her brother, transformed into an enchanting human form. Standing tall for an eleven-year-old, she had a distinct grace and elegance that radiated maturity beyond her age. Her skin was as pale as porcelain, a stark contrast to her deeply hued hair. Falling over her shoulders in a cascade of violet waves, her hair was as dark as a moonlit night sky.

The most mesmerizing part of her appearance, however, was her eyes. They were an extraordinary shade of stellar purple, mirroring the cosmos in a spectrum untouched by human eyes. Those captivating eyes held a depth of wisdom and mystery, hinting at the myriad secrets and potent powers she held within. Cloaked in mystical robes of midnight blue and silver, she exuded a regal aura, the perfect representation of her royal bloodline. Her presence was as magical as it was captivating, promising a tale of grandeur, magic, and inevitable change.

With a wave of his wand, Octavius conjured an illusion around Nocturne and Nebula, diminishing their grand draconic stature and turning them into pseudodragons in the eyes of onlookers. The transformation was seamless, their majestic forms shrinking and adopting the guise of tiny dragons, retaining a semblance of their majestic visages, but on a much smaller and less intimidating scale.

Their eyes, a deep pool of celestial knowledge, scaled down to an innocent glow. Their scales, usually gleaming with an otherworldly sheen, turned a bit muted, blending into the form of pseudodragons perfectly. The change, while substantial, left their intelligence and dignity intact, merely camouflaging their true nature beneath an unassuming facade.

Octavius looked at the transformed pair approvingly, "This guise will help you blend in with the magical community. Pseudodragons are still dragons... but it is easy to make it acceptable to carry you both around. Just be sure to act...less fearsome than you really are."

A glint of amusement flashed in his eyes, yet his tone was laced with the seriousness of the situation. They were about to step into a world where their true identities had to remain concealed, and their actions would hold great consequences.

Raising his wand, Octavius began to mutter incantations under his breath. His eyes flickered with an intense concentration as his words coalesced into magic, bending the fabric of reality to his will. Around him, the air seemed to tremble, vibrated with the power he was wielding. Suddenly, a shudder passed through the room, and the space in front of him began to warp and distort.

A circular gap seemed to tear open in the air itself, its edges swirling with an arcane energy. Within it, there was a glimpse of another location, a quiet, discreet alleyway, cobbled and lined with bricked walls, hidden from the bustling streets of Diagon Alley.

"Keep close," Octavius instructed, his voice firm as he glanced over his companions. "And remember, keep your forms and act human. The Wizarding World is no place for mistakes. They may not know of Hell, but they are wary of anything unusual."

With that, he strode through the portal, the rest following suit as they entered the bustling world of magical commerce and intrigue, leaving the majestic splendor of Hell's palace behind.

Octavius lifted his hand, his wand clutched tightly as he centered himself. His gaze was as intense as the flames dancing in the brimstone hearths around them. He began to murmur in an ancient language, the words slipping from his lips as softly as silk yet with an underlying edge, a hint of something powerful and commanding.

As the incantation echoed through the cavernous throne room, a pulse of energy radiated from the young demon prince. The air around him became charged, vibrating, as though it were a living entity reacting to his words. The atmosphere took on a sense of anticipation, almost holding its breath as the magic coalesced.

Then, with a sudden shudder that coursed through the very bones of the palace, a tear in the fabric of reality appeared. It began as a small ripple, a distortion that twisted the space in front of Octavius, growing steadily until it formed a large, circular gap. The edges of the portal swirled with a dazzling display of energy, an ethereal whirlpool that served as the doorway between dimensions.

Through the vortex, a different world came into view - a discreet, hidden corner of the magical London. This was no grand entryway into the Wizarding World, no platform nine and three-quarters thrumming with energy and the chatter of returning students. Instead, it was a quiet, unassuming alleyway, tucked away from the bustling streets of Diagon Alley.

"Stay close," Octavius ordered, the rich timbre of his voice reverberating through the room. His gaze swept over the assembled Goetians and their human transformations. "And remember, you're human now. Do not draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. The Wizarding World is steeped in their own customs and suspicions. We must blend in."

With those words, Octavius confidently stepped through the portal. The others followed in procession, each crossing the threshold that separated Hell from the Mortal World. As they did, they left behind the grandeur of the hellish palace, stepping into the cobblestone streets lit by the soft glow of magical lanterns, the air heavy with the scent of potions and the distant echo of magical chatter.

The moment the last foot crossed the portal's threshold, a deep and sudden darkness descended upon the alleyway, washing away the soft glow of the magical lanterns as if a celestial hand had swept it aside. The air chilled, and an unexpected stillness fell over the scene, as if time itself had frozen. All around, the chatter and bustling noise of Diagon Alley was abruptly silenced, a ghostly hush enveloping the once lively atmosphere.

Looking up, the Goetians found the cause. Above them, the sun, previously shining brightly in the midday sky, was now swallowed by a much larger, darker body. An eclipse, sudden and unexpected, was taking place right above them. The moon had made its brazen move against the sun, casting a celestial shadow that turned day into twilight.

And then, the spectacle truly began. As the moon slid perfectly into place, it locked the sun behind a disk of darkness, allowing only the solar corona to feather out around the edges in a breathtaking display of radiant light. The corona, usually invisible in the daylight, now shimmered like a halo of liquid gold, painting the sky in hues of cosmic splendor.

The stars, previously hidden by the light of day, revealed themselves. They twinkled against the darkened canvas of the sky, their soft light intermingling with the stronger radiance of the corona, creating a spectacle that was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

As the heavens above performed their celestial dance, the world below mirrored its magic. The cobblestones of the alleyway began to shimmer, reflecting the ethereal glow from the sky. Lanterns, once extinguished by the sudden eclipse, now sparked back to life, their magical flames dancing in hues of sapphire, emerald, and amethyst, reflecting the cosmic colors of the event above.

As the uncanny spectacle unfurled above Diagon Alley, the reactions from its denizens were as varied as they were visceral.

A few witches nearby, previously engaged in an animated conversation, found their words dying on their lips as they craned their necks upwards, their eyes round with astonishment. They clutched each other's arms in wonder, their forgotten conversation replaced by awestruck whispers and exclamations.

A pair of wizards, their long beards trailing onto the cobbled streets, had been locked in a heated debate outside Flourish and Blotts. But the sight above silenced their argument. Their faces, previously flushed with the heat of their dispute, now wore matching expressions of stunned reverence as they tipped their pointed hats back to gaze at the celestial marvel.

The air was punctured by gasps and murmurs of surprise from a small crowd gathered around the cauldron shop, their previous shopping intentions sidetracked by the unexpected display of nature's magic. Their faces, young and old, were illuminated by the soft light of the eclipse, the glow highlighting the awe etched into their features.

A mother pulled her small son closer, pointing upwards, a lesson being hastily improvised about the nature of the cosmos. The boy's eyes widened with youthful wonder, a million questions bubbling on his lips, yet held back by the sheer magnificence of the scene unfolding above him.

Even the normally nonchalant goblins, peeking out from the doors of Gringotts, couldn't hide their surprise. Their beady eyes squinted against the light, and they muttered amongst themselves in Gobbledegook, their rough voices softening, becoming almost respectful.

The sudden and unanticipated eclipse turned Diagon Alley from a place of lively commerce and chatter to a silent theater of cosmic admiration. The everyday magic of the Wizarding World, momentarily outshone by the sheer spectacle above, was replaced by a communal reverence for the cosmos and its enchanting mysteries.

As if the dramatic spectacle of the eclipse wasn't enough, the constellation Draco started to shine with an unprecedented brilliance, outshining the neighboring stars, and becoming distinctly visible even in the daylight.

This extraordinary sight seemed to hit a chord among the spectators below. An undercurrent of murmur began to circulate among them, words being passed from one to another, whispers becoming louder as the realization started to take root.

"The constellation of Draco..." one witch gasped, her eyes wide with realization as she clutched at her friend's arm.

"The prophecy..." another wizard muttered, his face turning pale as he stared at the shimmering constellation. "Isn't it the one mentioned in the prophecy about Harry Potter?"

Their voices were echoed throughout the crowd, the news of Harry Potter's recent discovery fresh in their minds. The prophecy they all had heard, discussed, dissected - it had mentioned the constellation of Draco. The Wizarding World had been aflutter with speculation, and this unexpected celestial event seemed to confirm their wildest theories.

Voices echoed around the Alley, the words "Draco", "Harry Potter", and "Prophecy" becoming a cacophony of whispers. Everyone from Ministry officials, tucked behind the dark windows of their offices, to shopkeepers and children, felt a shiver of anticipation run down their spines. The prophecy seemed to be unfolding before their very eyes, and the appearance of the constellation of Draco in such a peculiar manner felt like a solid affirmation of the imminent fulfillment of those ancient words.

The crowd of witches and wizards remained motionless, gazing upwards as the constellation of Draco continued to twinkle, its lights glowing with such intensity that it felt like it was reaching out to them. The eclipse, too, held its place, adding an eerie beauty to the scene.

The magic in the air was palpable, a charge that clung to the cobblestones and echoed off the buildings. It felt as if Diagon Alley itself was holding its breath in anticipation.

Suddenly, a shift in the air pulled the attention of the onlookers from the sky to a secluded alleyway. Without a sound, a magical portal shimmered into existence, radiating energy that rippled across the cobblestones... all pointing directly to Octavius and his entire entourage.

With a subtle grimace barely concealed by his composed facade, Octavius leaned towards his sister, his voice a mere whisper in her ear, "I absolutely detest it when fate decides to play its hand so unexpectedly... again."

Octavia could only offer a sympathetic smile in return, understanding the weight of her brother's words.

Fate, it seemed, never did tire of its games.

What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? You all know about them, don't you?

If you do not know where this quote is referenced from, educate yourself to Lord of The Rings ASAP!

Now, besides me speaking about references and memes lol, we are here for the first voting session of the series!

ABOUT THE VOTE: Obviously Octavius is going to be sorted into a House, so will Octavia, Francesco, and all the others! Since choice is specifically dependent on choice, I will give you all the option to choose!

TO VOTE, REPLY WITH THE NAME OF THE HOUSE IN THE REVIEW SECTION TO SELECT THE HOUSE YOU WANT! IF NO ONE PARTICIPATES, I HAVE ALREADY MADE THE POTTERMORE TEST FOR OCTAVIUS, DEFAULT OPTION IS THERE JUST IN CASE!

Now! As for other news, yes! This chapter is going to be the biggest shitstorm of the series as well as the following chapter!

So, now the Wizarding World knows who Harry is, as well as those he is with! Definitely things are going to be a LOT more complicated, legally complex, and heavily involved in incredible popularity! Next chapter is going to be filled with said popularity, political intrigue, canon character interactions, Hogwarts Legacy (think of banks), and all kinds of wild things to get involved with!

As for romance options: I am going to yank all of you around in case you haven't noticed XD

With that being said...

Hoped you all enjoyed this chapter and please don't be afraid to Fav or Follow this story, means a lot!

Thank you for your time,

-True