PSA:
This chapter is definitely going to be edited on the parts of Dumbledore's part as well as certain parts of the chapter! Reasoning is going to include me purchasing an Author's Licensing tool to novelize my writing works (in case you want to know, it is Scrivener 3!). Keep in mind that I will be interviewing for jobs and editing all chapters to ensure consistency!
Happy 4th of July everyone!
Current Tally on the record:
Ravenclaw: 4, Hufflepuff: 1, Gryffindor: 2
Review Time:
Thristan- Wait until Umbridge comes into the picture XD
Harry Potter: Goetian Beginnings
Chapter XI: An Early Invitation
Hogwarts, Mortal Realm
August 1st, 1991
In the silence of summer, the vast labyrinth of Hogwarts was hauntingly empty. Echoes of laughter and youthful chatter seemed to hang in the air, but the stone corridors were devoid of the usual milling students. The ancient castle, stripped of its vibrant life, lay as dormant as a sleeping giant.
Despite this stillness, there was a hidden stir within its hallowed walls. Octavius, Octavia, and Estrella moved like wraiths down the grand staircase, under the protection of a powerful invisibility charm. The trio, in their human disguises, appeared as nothing more than fleeting shadows in the corners of empty classrooms and bare hallways.
"Our destination is the Headmaster's office," Octavius murmured, his voice just a breath above the silence. "Remember, we are unseen but not undetectable. Tread lightly."
Octavia smirked, unseen beneath the cloak. "Stealth, brother, is the domain of the cunning. Trust me, we'll leave no traces."
Beside them, Estrella moved with fluid grace, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Even bereft of its bustling life, Hogwarts held a certain charm, a promise of boundless knowledge and magic that ignited a spark of excitement within her.
Within the cloak of their powerful invisibility charm, Octavius, Octavia, and Estrella silently approached the gargoyle-protected entrance to the Headmaster's office. A heavy silence loomed over the stone sentinel, its austere, rigid eyes seeming to pierce through their mystic veil.
In the distance, they observed the school's poltergeist, Peeves, up to his usual chaotic mischief. Floating objects were suspended mid-air as if by invisible hands, their formerly orderly arrangement disrupted in a bout of incorporeal petulance.
As Octavius stepped forward, a deep, ethereal change resonated in his voice. No longer was it the smooth, calm tone of the young prince. Instead, it echoed with an otherworldly timbre, rich and haunting, reverberating through the cold, stone hallway like a chilling wisp of the underworld.
"Peeves," he intoned, his voice a spectral whisper that slid into the ears of the poltergeist. The hallway itself seemed to respond, the very stones shuddering at the chilling call, shadows deepening around corners, a specter of dread creeping over the ancient walls.
Peeves froze, the abandoned objects crashing to the floor with the suddenness of his scare. His wide, bulbous eyes searched the empty corridor, failing to identify the source of the ominous voice.
"Relay this message," the disembodied voice ordered, each word infused with a menacing growl. "Inform Headmaster Dumbledore that Octavius awaits him outside his office."
"Oc- Octavius?" The name fell from Peeves' lips, his terror palpable. With a frightened squeak, he shot off towards Dumbledore's office, the silence of the corridor broken only by the fading echo of his fear-induced shrieks.
Once the sound of Peeves' retreat dissipated, a quiet chuckle rippled through the tense silence. "He won't forget this encounter anytime soon," Octavia's voice was laced with amusement, the faint sound a soothing antidote to the eerie spectacle they had just induced.
In the desolate, echo-filled hallway of the Hogwarts castle, a silence heavy with anticipation hung in the air. The stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's office stood as stoic and unyielding as ever, seemingly oblivious to the invisible presence of the three young demons.
The gentle patter of footsteps echoed along the stone corridor, growing louder as they approached. There was an unmistakable rhythm to this sound, a distinctive cadence that could only belong to Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts' venerable Headmaster.
With his approach, the air in the hallway seemed to tighten. Dumbledore stopped just short of the gargoyle, his keen blue eyes sweeping across the seemingly empty hallway. There was a subtle twinkle in them, a sign of amusement buried beneath the layers of wisdom and knowledge he held.
Just as Dumbledore was about to utter the password to the gargoyle, a ripple of ethereal energy surged through the air, and the trio dropped their powerful invisibility charm. Emerging from the void of thin air, they stood before the Headmaster, their expressions as calm as the still lake outside the castle.
Surprise registered briefly on Dumbledore's features before it was replaced by the serene and knowing smile that seemed to perpetually grace his face.
With the grace that was characteristic of his lineage, Octavius inclined his head slightly towards Dumbledore, his violet eyes shimmering in the dim light. "Good evening, Headmaster," he said, his voice smooth and articulate.
Dumbledore returned the gesture with a warm smile, his blue eyes twinkling with a familiar twinkle. His half-moon spectacles added an air of astuteness as they caught the faint glow of the torchlight. "Good evening, Octavius," he replied in his deep, kind voice, unfazed by the young demon's sudden appearance.
He studied the trio with a contemplative gaze, his experience and wisdom evident in his expression. "It is always a pleasure to see potential students who take such an avid interest in Hogwarts, even during the holidays," he said, his tone carrying a gentle note of amusement. "Especially ones as... unique as yourself."
Dipping his chin in acknowledgment, Octavius got straight to business, "Headmaster, I trust you've considered my proposal?"
Dumbledore's fingers steepled together, a pensive look passing over his features as he nodded thoughtfully, "Indeed, I have given it due consideration, Octavius. It is not a light matter to admit non-human entities, let alone demons, into Hogwarts. It involves a level of risk and responsibility."
His gaze shifted to Octavia and Estrella who stood alongside Octavius, "However, I am well aware that your family and friends possess a different caliber of character. The... uniqueness of your circumstances does offer a perspective we have not considered before."
A slight smile graced Dumbledore's lips, his eyes twinkling once more, "As for your dragon, I must admit that is a bit more of a predicament. While the school has hosted various magical creatures, a dragon is a different matter entirely."
Octavius waited patiently for Dumbledore to continue, the intensity of his violet gaze never wavering. Dumbledore met his gaze, the smile on his face broadening, "However, I believe a compromise can be reached. After all, Hogwarts has always been a place for learning and understanding the magical world in all its myriad forms."
Octavius, feeling the anticipation build, couldn't resist a slight smirk, "Indeed, Headmaster, Hogwarts has always been a beacon of enlightenment. But, let's not dance around the matter at hand any further," he prompted, his voice echoing slightly within the hall. "What is your decision?"
Dumbledore's gaze held steady, the twinkle in his eye unmistakable as he finally responded, "Very well, Octavius. My decision is as follows: your friends and family can attend Hogwarts, on the condition that they abide by the rules and uphold the values of the school."
Octavius felt his heart thud at the words, a slight tension lifting off his shoulders. But Dumbledore was not finished, "As for your dragon, Nocturne, he will be permitted on the school grounds, given he is kept under control. And perhaps he can be used as an educational tool as well - an opportunity for our students to learn about dragon-kind from a safe distance."
There was a pause, the weight of the decision hanging in the air, "Do you find these terms acceptable, Octavius?" Dumbledore finished, his gaze unwavering as he looked at the young demon prince.
A slow, pleased smile crept onto Octavius's face as he heard Dumbledore's terms. "Most acceptable, Headmaster," he said, his voice heavy with satisfaction. "Thank you for your understanding."
As his words echoed softly in the room, Octavius suddenly found himself wrapped in a tight hug from his sister. Octavia, who had been standing silently beside him, beamed brightly, her violet eyes sparkling in delight. "We did it, Octavius!" she exclaimed, squeezing him even tighter.
Caught off guard by his sister's sudden embrace, Octavius chuckled, his eyes meeting Dumbledore's over the top of Octavia's head. "Yes, Octavia, we did," he said, wrapping an arm around his sister in return. "Now the real challenge begins: surviving the year at Hogwarts." His words were light-hearted, but behind his humor, he could feel the anticipation for the adventures that lay ahead.
A soft chuckle rippled through the room as Albus Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, eyes twinkling with curiosity behind his half-moon spectacles. "Surviving the year, you say? And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?"
Octavia was the first to respond, her laughter ringing out like tinkling bells in the room. "Oh, you know," she said, waving a hand dismissively, "classes, exams, the odd troll in the dungeons... the usual Hogwarts experience, I suppose."
"And then there's the additional chaos we inevitably bring," Octavius added, his voice dry. He glanced at Estrella, who nodded in agreement, her eyes gleaming with suppressed laughter.
"Yes," she added, her voice mirthful, "And let's not forget adjusting to the weather here. It's quite different from Hell, you know." Her comment brought a fresh round of laughter from Octavius and Octavia, leaving Dumbledore to join in with a bemused smile.
"Indeed," Dumbledore thought, the new academic year promised to be nothing if not interesting.
As the echoes of their laughter subsided and the trio began to prepare to take their leave, Albus Dumbledore watched them from his place, an inscrutable expression in his blue eyes. His gaze never strayed far from Octavius, the group's leader, who was unquestionably a cauldron of potential bubbling over... a potential that could be harnessed for the good, or, Heaven forbid, take a sinister turn.
"Well then, Headmaster," Octavius began, casting a courteous nod in his direction. "We appreciate your understanding. We promise to cause as little trouble as possible... within reasonable boundaries, of course." His eyes, a striking hue of violet, seemed to dance with the sparks of mischief that crackled in his words.
As his statement hung in the air like a lingering spell, Octavius led the trio towards the gargoyle-guarded entrance. Dumbledore watched them in silence, his thoughts a tumultuous whirlpool.
With the opening of the entrance, Dumbledore retreated to his office, his gaze lost in the dancing flames of the hearth. Octavius. A demon prince of formidable power and uncanny charisma. Uncharted territory, much like another boy he had once known — a boy who had bewitched and deceived, a boy who had succumbed to the allure of a dark path and morphed into the notorious Lord Voldemort.
Could Octavius, born of a heritage unlike any other and gifted with extraordinary capabilities, be led astray along a similar road? The resemblance between the two was undeniable. Each uniquely gifted, each possessing an uncanny charisma. And yet, in Octavius there was an air of warmth, a kindness that Tom Riddle had been bereft of.
Dumbledore recognized the potential risks, but he also saw the possibilities that could unfurl from this unusual situation. If Octavius could be gently guided, shown the path of righteousness, he could become a beacon of harmony, facilitating a new era of understanding between wizards and demons. Yet the counterpoint remained — unchecked, Octavius' might could breed calamity.
The upcoming school year promised to be like no other, and Dumbledore felt an odd blend of anticipation and apprehension. For now, he could only observe, mentor, and hope for the best. He was prepared to guide Octavius away from the shadows that once swallowed Tom Riddle, even as he savored the potential for something unprecedented. With a final glance towards the now vacant office entrance, he turned and walked back to his desk, mind humming with thoughts of what the future held.
Albus Dumbledore, his eyes wandering aimlessly over the scattered papers on his desk, found his thoughts tracing the echelons of power in the realm Octavius hailed from — Hell. He mulled over the ranks, the significant individuals who held sway over this infernal domain.
First and foremost among them was Lucifer, the Morning Star, the instigator of rebellion and the original Light-bringer. Once an angel of magnificent glory, his descent into darkness had sparked the genesis of Hell. Even though their paths had never crossed in this realm, Dumbledore held a certain understanding of Lucifer's magnitude of power, his indomitable will, and the vast influence he held over his realm.
Next came Lilith. A figure shrouded in mystery, she was a formidable power in her own right. Tales of her perseverance, her will, her cunning echoed throughout mythology and history, shaping her image as a force to be reckoned with. Her association with night demons, childbirth, and women's rights painted a picture of a complex, influential figure.
And then there was Stolas, Octavius's father. A Great Prince of Hell, reputed for his wisdom and knowledge of astronomy and poisonous plants. An entity of astronomical power, an intellect as vast as the cosmos he presided over. His reputation suggested a patient and introspective individual, one who bore his responsibilities with grace and gravity.
Lastly, King Paimon. The Grandfather of Octavius. A formidable figure who held a high seat amongst the demonic hierarchy. Known for his gift of granting knowledge, understanding and manipulating others, and his unwavering loyalty to Lucifer, he was a force not to be underestimated. His influence was visible in Octavius, who seemed to share his grandfather's charisma and sharp intellect.
The sheer magnitude of the powers at play here, the complex intricacies of the hellish hierarchy, was enough to give pause to even the most fearless. Yet Dumbledore found himself not fearful, but thoughtful, contemplative. He held a certain respect for these beings, these figures of immense power and depth, regardless of the chasm that divided their worlds.
What a precarious situation it was indeed — mentoring a demon prince, grandson to one of Hell's revered kings, navigating a path strewn with unknown perils and unpredictable circumstances. Yet, as Dumbledore often reminded himself, it was in the face of unknowns and uncertainties that true character revealed itself. Time would tell what path young Octavius would choose to tread.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled before him, his gaze lost somewhere between the shifting patterns of shadows on his office floor and the enigma that was Octavius Goetia.
The child who once was known to the world as Harry Potter was now something wholly different, entirely unrecognizable. Known now as Octavius Goetia, the Prince of Hell. A transformation as profound as it was perplexing, and one Dumbledore found himself struggling to comprehend.
He pondered over Stolas' decision to adopt the young wizard, not just as a ward, but as his own son. A significant move, one that drastically changed the boy's life and sent ripples through both the wizarding and demonic worlds.
The Great Prince of Hell, a powerful and celestial entity, had welcomed a mortal child into his lineage, named him Octavius Goetia, and left Dumbledore to question the motives behind such an unprecedented action.
What had prompted such a decision? Was it empathy for a young wizard thrust into a world of danger and expectations, hunted and revered in equal measure? Or was it strategic foresight, a way to gain influence and an upper hand in an ever-tumultuous world? Or was it, perhaps, something more profound and personal – a paternal instinct kindled in the heart of the demon prince?
All these questions swirled in Dumbledore's mind as he contemplated the intricacies of Stolas' decision and the profound implications it bore on the young wizard's life. He knew not where the young boy could have grown up, but the stark contrast between his past life and his current standing as a Prince of Hell was undeniable.
Regardless of Stolas' reasons, one fact remained indisputable - Harry's life had changed significantly under his care. The boy was now Octavius Goetia, confident and nurtured, standing at the intersection of power and politics in his new realm.
It was an enigma indeed. One that Dumbledore knew would unravel itself in time. Until then, he could only observe, guide where possible, and hope that amidst the power and politics of his adopted realm, Octavius would find a way to remain true to himself.
En route to Forbidden Forest, Mortal Realm
August 1st, 1991
Under the veil of the invisibility charm, the trio exited the grandeur of Hogwarts castle, slipping past the historic stone walls and into the cool night. The sky above was awash with stars, painting a radiant canvas of the cosmos that twinkled with silent stories waiting to be read.
To an ordinary eye, they would be merely stars, but to Octavius and Octavia, they were more - a celestial map with a message. Their gaze locked onto two distinct constellations – Draco and Noctua. In the symbolic language of the cosmos, a message had been woven that only they could decipher.
With an understanding glance exchanged between them, Octavius nodded subtly, his hand gently tightening around Estrella's. Unfazed by the night's chill, they led her away from the castle and towards the thick tapestry of trees marking the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The forest, despite its ominous reputation, did not deter them. If anything, the mystery it promised seemed to beckon them further into its depths. The eerie sounds of nocturnal creatures echoed faintly around them, a symphony of nature that underscored their nocturnal venture.
Each step they took seemed to align with the rhythm of the stars above, a cosmic synchrony that blurred the lines between the terrestrial and the celestial. It was a walk under the silent watch of Stolas himself, a journey that promised an encounter that transcended the mortal realm, one that connected them with the ancient whispers of the universe.
Venturing deeper into the Forbidden Forest, the trio found themselves treading a path that few had dared to walk. The nocturnal rustlings of unseen creatures served as a constant reminder of the forest's ancient reputation. Its shadows held secrets dating back centuries, whispering tales of the magic and danger held within its sprawling boughs.
As they traversed deeper into the labyrinthine thicket, an intangible shift was palpable. A subtle metamorphosis began to take hold of Octavius. His gaze hardened, and his posture straightened with a regal aura, as though he was a king ascending his throne. It was an unhurried transition, an emergence of the deep-seated power that dwelt within him.
Likewise, Octavia and Estrella found themselves under the grip of a similar transformation, an ethereal pull compelling them to reveal their true natures. Together, they shed their human forms like a second skin, the change flowing over them as naturally as a stream tracing its time-worn path.
Octavius' form was shrouded in a darker violet hue, akin to the night sky just before the break of dawn, while Octavia, in contrast, took on a vibrant violet reminiscent of a twilight horizon. Estrella, in her own change, bore a resemblance to a barn owl, a mantle of white and grey feathers adorning her form.
Their transformation was a silent proclamation of their identities, a tangible declaration of their heritage. With each step they took, the forest itself seemed to hum in recognition of the ancient power now walking its grounds. Under the vast canopy of the night sky, the slow, powerful advance of the trio was a sight as fascinating as it was daunting.
Even amidst the foreboding darkness, they continued onward, their strides purposeful, an aura of authority radiating off them. They were as resolute as they were formidable, boldly navigating the nebulous terrain that the Forbidden Forest was. Every movement was a testimony to their power, a haunting spectacle under the ancient woodland's shadowed canopy.
Underneath the celestial canvas stitched with thousands of shimmering stars, the trio moved in harmonious unity, like celestial bodies in a silent symphony of the universe. The hushed rustle of the leaves under their feet was the only sound that dared to break the revered silence of the forest.
A glint of silver light caught Octavius's eye. He stopped in his tracks, lifting his gaze to the boundless stars above. There, emblazoned against the velvet fabric of the night, were the constellations of Draco and Noctua, their shimmering forms intertwined in a cosmic dance.
In that moment, the forest seemed to hold its breath, the age-old trees bearing silent witness to the significance of the celestial spectacle unfolding before them. A powerful energy radiated from Octavius, a force so potent that it seemed to resonate with the ancient spirit of the forest.
Beside him, Octavia and Estrella mirrored his tranquil poise. Under the starlit canopy of the forest, they were but silhouettes in a grandiose portrait of nature's unyielding power and beauty. Their presence seemed to echo through the silent forest, their forms blending seamlessly into the mystical darkness around them.
The forest was alive around them, its heartbeat pulsing in harmony with their own. An unseen connection seemed to bind them to this primordial wilderness, a resonance that transcended the realm of the ordinary.
The echo of their footsteps was absorbed into the forest's vast expanse as they continued their journey. The deeper they delved, the more the forest's character revealed itself to them - a paradox of serenity and unpredictability, its nature as mysterious as the trio themselves.
The stars above continued their cosmic ballet, casting ethereal silhouettes onto the forest floor. They were the silent companions of the trio's journey, their brilliance a mirror of the profound power within Octavius, Octavia, and Estrella.
A rustle in the underbrush diverted the trio's attention, and a collective hush fell upon the dense thicket as the silhouettes of several creatures began to take form against the moonlit backdrop. Emerging from the woodland shadows were Centaurs, their muscular torsos towering above the forest floor, and their equine lower bodies gliding smoothly across the leaf-strewn terrain.
The Centaurs, a tribe known for their wisdom and star-gazing prowess, approached the trio with an air of cautious curiosity. The leader, a hulking figure with a gleaming chestnut coat and piercing, wisdom-filled eyes, stepped forward. The rhythmic thud of his hooves on the forest floor resonated in the silence of the night.
As the Centaurs drew nearer, their gazes were drawn upwards towards the spectacle of Draco and Noctua. Octavius, Octavia, and Estrella stood their ground, their eyes meeting those of the Centaurs with an understanding that extended beyond the barriers of language.
It was a rare moment, a convergence of two worlds colliding under a shared universe, a moment where the ancient, starlit mysteries of the universe entwined with the raw, unyielding power of the demons. And in the heart of the Forbidden Forest, under a celestial canopy, the future danced tantalisingly within their grasp.
For the Centaurs, too, recognized the power of the stars, the timeless stories they whispered into the silence of the night. Their appearance was no mere coincidence, but a heralding of a destiny yet to unfold, a prophecy whispered by the silent lips of the cosmos.
The Centaur leader, a formidable creature with an imposing chestnut body and eyes that held the wisdom of ages, surveyed the unusual trio cautiously. The moonlight fell upon him, highlighting his rippling muscles and accentuating his noble bearing. Breaking the silence, he addressed them, his deep voice echoing through the quiet forest.
"You three stand at the center of the star's arrow," he began, his eyes shifting between the trio and the starry sky above. "Draco and Noctua have woven together in the celestial tapestry, their paths intertwining in an unprecedented dance. Rare are the times when the ancient ones alter their courses."
His gaze finally settled on the violet-eyed youth, whose serene demeanor seemed to hold a potent yet controlled power. "What brings you to this place, this heart of the Forbidden Forest, under the strange alignment of the cosmos?"
In the tranquillity of the forest, Octavius' voice flowed out, its tone imbued with the cadence of an ancient lullaby yet underscored by a power that rivaled the sprawling cosmos above. His words, rich with depth and purpose, drifted into the silent abyss.
"Centaur leader," Octavius began, violet eyes shimmering with reflections of the star-studded sky. "I and my sister are the offspring of Stolas Goetia, the Great Prince of Hell who is the emissary of wisdom. We are born of the owl that soars under the same stars your kind contemplates. It is our destiny that brought us here, guided by the interplay of Draco and Noctua."
The forest seemed to hold its breath, the centaurs exchanging glances laden with unease, curiosity, and a hint of awe. The siblings, descendants of a being so profound and revered, carried a profound gravity that surpassed the norms of the earthly realm, bridging the terrestrial with the celestial.
"Our father gifted the realm of the living with the teachings of the stars," Octavia's voice harmonized, echoing her brother's in a soothing lilt. "We are here not as conquerors, but seekers — seekers of wisdom and knowledge."
As the owl-demon siblings finished their solemn decree, a ripple of discontent flowed through the centaurs' ranks. An arrow, nocked to a bow with a strained tension, began to glow with a deadly radiance under the moon's caress. The archer, a centaur with storm-ravaged eyes, sneered with unabashed disbelief, conviction hardening in his gaze.
"Words spun of silver can hide a heart blackened by deceit," the centaur scorned, his voice a harsh, winter wind. He loosed the arrow, a dart of blinding energy that cut through the air, aimed straight at the heart of the trio.
Yet, before it could find its mark, an aurora-like barrier sprung forth, shimmering with radiant colors of the night sky, causing the arrow to deflect harmlessly to the side. A collective gasp escaped the centaurs, their eyes growing wide at the sight.
Suddenly, the silent tranquillity was shattered as the resounding roar of Zephyrus, the elder Void Dragon, echoed through the forest, the sound reverberating off ancient trees and filling the clearing with a palpable force. His voice rumbled like an orchestra of thunder, "The children of the stars speak the truth!"
With his words, a portal of swirling darkness began to expand, and from its depths emerged Zephyrus, his majestic form shrouded in an aura of cosmic energy. His arrival was accompanied by a host of younger Void Dragons, emerging from the portal in a mesmerizing, fearsome dance of their own. The dragons circled the centaurs, their luminescent forms casting eerie shadows that twisted and twirled with an intimidating spectacle.
At the forefront of the dragons, a young wyrmling detached from the swarm, landing deftly before the owl-demon siblings. Its eyes glowed with the same untamed energy, mirroring the nebulae of distant galaxies as it bared its fangs at the centaur leader, a fierce roar echoing from its small yet intimidating form.
Just as the silence took hold of the clearing, a rustling sound broke it. It was the young centaurs, their faces hot with indignation and rebellion. They shuffled uneasily, arrows nocked onto their bows once more, ready to retaliate.
"No!" thundered the Centaur leader, his voice echoing off the forest canopy, forcing the young centaurs to stand down. He towered over them, his eyes ablaze with authority and wisdom. "Have you learned nothing? The stars have spoken tonight, their voice is clear and unwavering. It resonates through these creatures, these demons who carry their word. Have you no respect for the celestial language we've pledged to read and understand?"
The young centaurs, faced with the stern rebuke of their leader, lowered their heads and their weapons. A sullen silence fell upon the clearing as they tried to make sense of the situation. The words of their leader held truth, yet their young hearts seethed with the spirit of defiance.
Octavius stepped forward, the light from the stars reflecting in his violet eyes, making them seem like they were filled with constellations of their own. With his head held high, he addressed the Centaur leader.
"We, Octavius and Octavia, are the reason why the dragons of Draco have returned," he began, his voice steady and resonant. The centaurs listened in silence, their bows now lowered and their expressions a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. "We are the children of Stolas. Our birth and our actions, they are no accident. We have fulfilled a prophecy that has been foretold in the stars above. And now, another is to follow."
Octavia, who had been standing slightly behind her brother, took a step forward, aligning herself with him. Her eyes mirrored his, their violet irises filled with an unspoken determination. Their aura of certainty, their unwavering faith in their words, was unmistakable.
The Centaur Leader, the wise and aged leader of his tribe, looked at the young demons standing before him. He had seen many things in his long life, deciphered many celestial signs and omens. He knew when a prophecy was in the process of being fulfilled. Tonight, he had seen another prophecy unfolding before his eyes. He felt it in his bones.
"And what is this prophecy you speak of, child of Stolas?" The Centaur Leader asked, his voice a low rumble. The night was still, the forest listening with bated breath, waiting for the answer.
"In truth, the prophecy is yet to be fully realized," Octavius answered, his voice echoing amidst the towering trees and silent onlookers. "Our actions here tonight are not its fulfillment, but rather a declaration, a proclamation of the path leading to it."
Octavius paused, his gaze sweeping over the collected centaurs before resting back on their leader. The anticipation was palpable; it felt as though the very air held its breath.
"My name is Octavius Goetia," he continued, standing tall and resolute under the weight of the centaur's gaze. He motioned to the girl at his side, whose eyes held a matching determination. "This is my sister, Octavia Goetia, and..." He turned slightly, placing a hand on Estrella's shoulder, who stood her ground despite the gazes that were now fixed upon her. "... and this is Estrella Goetia."
The Centaur Leader's eyes widened slightly at the last introduction, but he said nothing. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, his voice rough like gravel. "And what is this path that you claim to show us?"
Octavius glanced at his sister and Estrella before meeting the Centaur Leader's gaze once more. His eyes gleamed with an unspoken promise. "I'm afraid it's not something I can merely tell you," he said, his voice taking on an almost cryptic quality. "But rather something I can, and will, show you. In time, all will be revealed."
With a fluid, sweeping motion, Octavius lifted his arm. As if he were pulling the very fabric of reality, a portal began to shimmer into existence, glowing with an eerie, otherworldly light. From its depths, the soft hooting of numerous owls could be heard before a flock of various species emerged, their feathers ruffling as they adjusted to the night air.
Once the last owl had flown from the portal, Octavius lowered his hand, and the portal winked out of existence, leaving only the barest trace of its ethereal glow. The owls fluttered around him, their soft hoots and calls filling the silent night. His hand extended, fingers stretched in an open invitation, as if he were the conductor of a spectral orchestra.
From amongst the multitude, two figures detached themselves from the rest. One was Nocturne, his indigo feather coat standing out even in the dim light, the other was the distinctive snowy form of Hedwig. They came to rest on Octavius' outstretched arm, their talons gripping his arm through the protection of his sleeve.
"Welcome," Octavius said, a warm smile playing on his lips as he gazed at the owls. His voice, gentle and soothing, was an almost melodic contrast to the darker, deeper tones he had used previously. "Your journey begins now, amongst the stars and under the watchful gaze of those who walk beneath them."
In the serene silence of the ancient forest, Octavius allowed his senses to expand, linking himself with the ethereal energies around him. His body vibrated with power, every nuance of the world around him amplified and magnified. He was the conduit for the potent art of divination, a bridge between reality and the intricate tapestry of fate and destiny.
His hands found a rough, unyielding stone at his feet, and with a focused outpour of magic, he transmuted the simple object into a smooth, deep bowl. There was an unhurried deliberation in his movements, each step carefully executed as if guided by an unseen force.
Drawing forth a silver athame from his pocket, the blade danced ominously in the dappled moonlight filtering through the canopy. Swiftly, with practiced ease, he scored a shallow line across his palm. Crimson life essence welled up, dotting the bowl's interior with a startling contrast of red.
The next part of the ritual required the participation of his companion, Nocturne. Extending the dragon's scaled claw, Octavius repeated the earlier process, a small cut allowing a few drops of dragon blood to join his own in the bowl. Nocturne rumbled in mild discomfort, but otherwise remained still, showing a level of trust only shared between the closest of companions.
The palpable surge of magic in the air grew more profound, every creature in the vicinity succumbing to the silent command that permeated the atmosphere. One by one, the purchased owls descended, each taking their turn to partake in the shared life essence. Among them, Hedwig, her pristine white plumage a stark contrast in the darkness, dipped her beak into the bowl, sealing a bond that was more profound than species boundaries could define.
The scene that unfolded before the eyes of all those present was nothing short of miraculous. The owls, having drunk from the shared essence of human and dragon, started to undergo a transformation that bridged the natural and the magical, the terrestrial and the celestial.
With soft clicks and rasps, bones lengthened and reformed. Beaks receded while arms and hands sprouted. Feathers fluttered, rearranging to encompass their new form, yet retaining their original hues and patterns. The transformation didn't erase their owl-like characteristics; rather, it merged them seamlessly with their new humanoid shape. Out of their backs, wings sprouted - glorious, wide-spanning, still covered with the soft, vibrant plumage of their bird forms.
Each was unique, a living representation of their original species. Snowy owls became ethereal beings of white and gold, their forms sparkling as if dusted by the first rays of dawn. Barn owls were transformed into serene figures of light tan and white, an embodiment of tranquillity under the moonlit sky. The fierce eagle owls turned into imposing, muscular figures, their browns and blacks creating an arresting contrast against the others.
In their new form, they stood tall and proud, their celestial beauty radiating a divine aura. The sheer number of them was awe-inspiring, each one a symbol of freedom and wisdom now given a new form and purpose.
Octavius beheld the scene before him with a sense of fulfillment. It was as if his vision of Valkyries, those fierce warriors from Norse mythology, had been brought to life. Their numbers were staggering, enough to rival even the angelic legions of Heaven in any imagined battle.
A smile tugged at his lips, not of arrogance or manipulation, but of satisfaction. He had been the instrument of destiny, and he had played his part well.
As though orchestrated by an invisible conductor, the newly transformed Owlfolk bowed in unison before the trio of demons. The unexpected, solemn gesture of respect was so profound that even the dragons, old and young alike, followed suit, bowing their mighty heads. It was a sight to behold, a harmonious union of two vastly different yet interlinked species.
The Centaurs, observing this spectacle with a mix of shock and awe, were the next to pay their respects. As beings who had always taken pride in their wisdom and knowledge of the celestial bodies, they acknowledged the significance of this celestial spectacle before them. One by one, they bent their equine bodies in a show of deference, their normal haughty air replaced with an unusual sense of humility.
Feeling the ground swell with an unprecedented wave of unity, Octavius lifted his hand, signaling a moment of silence. In that silence, a new covenant was forged, a pact unspoken yet understood by all present.
"The forest," Octavius began, his voice carrying the authority of his royal lineage, "forbidden and shrouded in darkness, will no longer bear the same stigma. It will serve as a sanctuary, a haven to you, the Owlfolk, and to all beings from the newly transformed realm."
Octavius closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, as he connected with the essence of the Owlfolk, sensing the depth of their newly acquired powers. In the quiet murmur of their collective energy, he felt strength and resilience, a quiet but undeniable force that was full of potential.
"A symbiotic relationship, one might say," Octavius voiced out thoughtfully, a serene glint in his eyes as he watched the radiant congregation of owlfolk. "They'll guard the dragons venturing into the forest."
Octavia nodded, her gaze mirroring her brother's contemplative demeanor, "Indeed. They are guardians in their own right. Protecting not just the forest and dragons, but the sanctity of this new realm we've opened."
Estrella, the newest Goetia, watched the congregation silently, her fingers tracing the air in tune with the harmonic resonance emanating from the owlfolk. "Survivors and guardians," she echoed, her words underlined with a tone of admiration. "It's an unforeseen but beautiful consequence."
"Though," Octavius chimed in, a mischievous glint twinkling in his eyes, "the Owlfolk shouldn't feel any hint of indignity towards their new forms, seeing as we share the same appearance, no?"
A light laugh escaped Estrella's lips before she lightly nudged Octavius's side, "Once we age, Octavius, you'll have to learn some control."
Octavia's eyes sparkled with mirth, a teasing smile playing at the corner of her lips, "And why should he, sister? Father did mention that he needs to spread our lineage. This might be the perfect opportunity."
Octavius's owl-like features flushed, the tinge of violet clear even under the forest's shadows. He looked away, a bashful smile reluctantly surfacing, "Octavia! That's not something you jest about in mixed company."
With a solemn nod, the Centaur leader pivoted on his hooves, his tribe following closely behind. Like whispers, they melted into the forest, their forms soon lost to the unfathomable depths of the ancient woodland.
Octavius watched their retreat, a sense of completion washing over him. He turned his attention upwards as the resonant roar of the dragons echoed through the night. They circled above, their colossal forms sketched out against the moonlit sky, before disappearing one by one into the shimmering portal Octavius had opened earlier.
The trio watched in silent awe as the last dragon, Zephyrus, soared into the portal. His serpentine tail disappeared last, marking the departure of the dragons to the new realm. The portal shivered before winking out of existence, leaving the forest once more to the silent whispers of the wind.
Turning his gaze away from the spot where the portal had been, Octavius approached the figure of Hedwig. In her new form, she was a sight to behold. She had a graceful stature, standing tall and dignified. The snowy white feathers that had once made up her small owl form now cascaded down her humanoid shape like a resplendent gown, gleaming under the moonlight. Her wings, broad and powerful, were folded neatly behind her, and her large, amber eyes held an intelligence that was not present before.
Reaching out a hand, Octavius gently touched her shoulder. "Hedwig," he began, his voice softer than the hoot of an owl in the night. "How do you feel in this new form?"
The corners of Hedwig's mouth twitched upward, a touch of humor in her amber eyes. "It's peculiar, Octavius," she responded, her voice a soft, feminine echo of the hoots she used to make. "I can talk, for one."
A ripple of laughter spread through Octavius, relieving some of the tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "That is certainly new," he said, grinning. "And definitely an improvement, though your hoots had a charm of their own."
Hedwig chuckled, an endearing sound that filled the silence of the forest. She extended one of her wings, looking at it with a thoughtful expression. "But I feel... more, somehow. There's an energy inside me, a power I didn't have before."
Octavius nodded, understanding. "Yes, it's the result of the transformation. You're no longer just an owl, Hedwig. You're an Owlfolk now, a creature of magic and power."
His gaze shifted to the other transformed owls who were exploring their newfound abilities with wonder. Their soft hoots of surprise and delight echoed through the forest, a harmonious symphony of new beginnings. "And it's not just you, Hedwig. All of you have been changed, and now have powers you could never have imagined."
"You've given us a great gift, Octavius," Hedwig said, her eyes full of gratitude. "We'll never forget it."
Smiling warmly, Octavius patted her shoulder. "The gift was always yours, Hedwig," he said. "I simply helped you unlock it."
"Know this, Hedwig, and the rest of you," Octavius said, his voice carrying clearly through the silent forest. He looked into Hedwig's eyes and then slowly turned to address the rest of the Owlfolk. Their gazes, all different hues but each one gleaming with newfound intelligence and consciousness, were trained on him. "The realms are open to you. You are not confined to this world, nor to the new realm."
Octavius raised his hand, and within it, a portal sprang to life. It shimmered with a pulsating, otherworldly glow, revealing fleeting glimpses of the dragon-filled skies of the new realm. The Owlfolk watched in awe, their eyes widening at the sight.
"The dragons are allies and friends," Octavius continued, lowering his hand and allowing the portal to flicker and fade. "They have pledged to open the way whenever you desire. Do not hesitate to reach out to them. They will honor their oath, for our fates are intertwined."
There was a moment of silence as his words settled in, and then a murmur of excited chatter rippled through the crowd. Hedwig looked at him, a bright spark of hope and determination in her amber eyes.
"Thank you, Octavius," she said sincerely. "For everything."
"You're welcome, Hedwig," Octavius replied, his smile soft and genuine. "We are all family now. We stand together."
Octavius and Octavia's Hold, Hell
August 1st, 1991
The trio of Goetians made their way back to the castle, their footsteps echoing in the silent hallways. As they turned the corner, a vibrant figure greeted their eyes. She was tall, with multiple arms and a body covered in yellow and pink stripes, reminiscent of a bee. Her hair, flowing like liquid light, glowed with hues of pink, blue, and orange, reflecting off the walls in a dazzling display of colors.
"Ah, if it isn't the three little starlings," the figure, none other than Beelzebub, greeted them with a grin, her voice echoing through the spacious corridor. Her insect-like wings fluttered lightly, while the antennae on her ears twitched as if sensing their arrival.
She was dressed in a pink sleeveless crop top, with a heart-shaped cutout revealing a portion of her lavishly lit lava-lamp stomach. Her short shorts clung to her form, white and perfectly contrasting with her striped skin. Black markings adorned her arms and legs, adding an edge to her otherwise vibrant persona.
"Now, Octavius, Octavia, and Estrella," she began, crossing a pair of arms and resting her chin on another, her third eye opening as her tone grew more serious. "Word on the Hell grapevine says you've been mighty busy. Adopting human souls, making all sorts of ruckus with those holy types, and even pulling some reverse baptism shenanigans on the sinners."
Her tone was energetic and teasing, but the probing look in her eyes suggested genuine curiosity. She was a queen of indulgence, always ready for a party, but she was far from shallow. Her lively disposition often concealed a cunning mind that missed little and questioned much.
"So, what's the tea?" she asked, her third eye narrowing as she awaited their reply.
Octavius, taken aback by Beelzebub's brash directness, blushed furiously and bowed his head. Octavia and Estrella couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction. Their brother, usually so composed and eloquent, looked rather flustered, making for quite a delightful spectacle.
"It's... umm... rather complicated, Beelzebub," Octavius finally managed to utter, his voice barely above a whisper.
Beelzebub found this whole scene immensely amusing. She threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh, her multiple arms flapping energetically in the air. It was not often she saw the usually composed Octavius so out of sorts. It added a certain charm to him that she found intriguing.
"Oh, I love a good complicated tale!" she exclaimed, her third eye twinkling with mirth. Her antennae wiggled with anticipation as she reclined in the air, crossing her legs. "Spill, Octavius. What's got you so ruffled up?"
Her probing gaze fell back onto him, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. It was clear she wouldn't let this go until she had every juicy detail, the essence of the party queen that she was. The castle's grand hall filled with an air of amusement as the trio of Goetians prepared to narrate their tale to the eager Beelzebub.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Octavius began recounting their recent escapades. His voice echoed in the cavernous hall as he spoke of their travels to the human realm, of the encounter with the Centaurs and the transformation of the owls.
Beelzebub listened intently, her eyes widening with interest and disbelief in equal measures. The glow in her stomach pulsated, casting strange, shifting patterns of light on her face. The castle, typically resonant with merriment, seemed to hold its breath as Octavius's narrative wove an extraordinary tale of celestial beings, constellations, and interdimensional portals.
"And about these rumors..." Octavius hesitated, glancing at Octavia and Estrella, who returned his look with encouraging nods. "I've heard that my interactions with a human soul have been... misconstrued. There's talk about the place of this soul in our grand design."
Beelzebub tilted her head, her antennae twitching. The third eye on her forehead seemed to shimmer with a spectrum of colors, reflecting her intrigue and amusement. "Oh? Now, that is something I'd like to hear more about," she replied, leaning forward with eager anticipation.
"Well," Octavius began, casting a glance at his sister and Estrella for support, his usual confident demeanor wavering just slightly under Beelzebub's intense scrutiny. "It's... complicated."
"Isn't it always?" Beelzebub chuckled, her three eyes glittering with mirth and mischief. "Go on, Octavius. Don't keep me in suspense."
He sighed, squaring his shoulders and meeting her gaze firmly. "There's no possession or coercion involved. We've simply welcomed a lost soul. The soul of Harry Potter, to be precise."
Beelzebub's laugh echoed throughout the cavernous room, resounding off the stone walls. "Oh, Octavius! You've always been full of surprises. The Boy Who Lived, now the Soul Who's Strayed? This is better than any party anecdote I've heard!"
As the fox-like demoness continued to laugh, Octavia stepped forward, her violet eyes glinting. "Harry is now our brother, Beelzebub. We do not intend harm, but to give him a chance he was never given in the living world."
Beelzebub's laughter died down as she looked from Octavia to Octavius. Her face softened into a smile. "Well, who am I to judge? It's certainly not conventional, but then again, what is in Hell?" Her wings fluttered in amusement.
"Well," Octavius began once the echoes of Beelzebub's laughter had died down, "as delightful as it was sharing these unexpected details, I can't help but wonder why you are here. You hardly leave your party hive without a compelling reason."
Beelzebub's honey-colored eyes sparkled, and she leaned back, her six arms folded in front of her. "Oh, you are clever, Octavius," she acknowledged with a cheshire grin. "And you're right; I do have a particular interest."
She flicked her gaze briefly to the legion of Hellhounds in the corner of the grand hall, their multitude of eyes glinting in the dim light. "I've heard rumors that you've been collecting quite a few pups here and everywhere."
At this, Octavius raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" he responded casually, but his heart pounded in his chest. Was she onto him? Had she found out about his plan?
"Yes," Beelzebub confirmed, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And I must say, I'm quite intrigued. What, might I ask, is your intention, dear Octavius? Are you building a Hellhound legion of your own, or is this simply a rather pointed attempt to spite me?"
Her question, though seemingly innocent, carried an underlying hint of challenge. But Octavius did not allow himself to be unnerved. He had a plan, and he would see it through, regardless of Beelzebub's suspicions.
Octavius looked up at Beelzebub, a serious look etched onto his face. "It's not about amassing an army or trying to spite you, Beelzebub. It's about giving these young ones a second chance. They deserve better than to be abandoned or mistreated."
Beelzebub chuckled at his words, her antennae twitching in amusement. "How noble of you, Octavius, to bear the burden of raising the pups of Hell's degenerates. It's quite a task you've set for yourself."
She moved closer, the fluid in her stomach and hair swirling and bubbling in bright hues. "But if you're so keen on raising these pups, why not just make a business arrangement?" She suggested, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "You provide them with care and shelter, and in return, they could be quite useful to you, couldn't they?"
Octavius, his expression serious, met Beelzebub's gaze without flinching. "Beelzebub, these aren't mere tools or resources. They're children. They're not here because I wish to gain something from them. They're here because I want to help them. I want them to have a chance at life that isn't just survival. And I want them to know they're valued. The way they're treated before they come to your hive... it isn't right."
There was a long pause as Beelzebub stared at him, her third eye blinking in surprise. The air around her buzzed with her astonishment as she took a step back. Octavius's sincerity was something she hadn't expected. In her world, everyone was always after something - power, influence, wealth. No one showed this level of compassion, especially not for Hellhound pups.
For a moment, she was speechless. Then she threw back her head and laughed. It wasn't a mocking laughter, but one of genuine amusement and... respect. "Well, I'll be damned," she muttered, a grin tugging at her lips. "You're a rare breed, Octavius Goetia. Your kindness might just be the strangest thing I've seen in this realm. But I can't deny... it's also quite refreshing."
Beelzebub watched Octavius as he turned back to the pups. Her antennae twitched thoughtfully as her multi-hued eyes softened. The sight of a prince of Hell so caring, so different from the rest, was a novelty.
"Hold on, kid," she called out to Octavius, causing him to halt and turn back towards her. "If you're sincere about what you're saying – and I have no reason to believe otherwise – I reckon I should help you out."
Octavius looked at her, surprise registering in his eyes. "You would do that?" he asked, taken aback by her sudden shift.
Beelzebub shrugged her many shoulders, her lips curved into a slight smile. "Sure, why not?" she replied nonchalantly. "Besides, I have to admit, the idea of some of those pups having a better life is... appealing. And it's not like I've got anything better to do."
With a casual flip of her wrist, Beelzebub conjured up a card that she tossed towards Octavius. Catching it, he saw it was a honey-yellow card with her contact details embossed in glossy black. "That's my number," Beelzebub said, giving him a wink. "Just hit me up anytime you need a favor or something."
Octavius nodded, tucking the card safely into his pocket. "Thank you, Beelzebub," he said earnestly, before his eyebrows furrowed a little. "But, I must remind you... I am still a child by human standards, only ten years old."
"Ah, yes, your age," she replied with a chuckle, her lava lamp-like belly glowing in amusement. "Well, don't worry, kid. When I said party, I didn't mean those adult ones. I've got plenty of soft parties, too. You know, with games, sweets, balloons - the whole kiddie shebang. You could bring your pals, too. They'll love it!"
Octavius's eyes sparkled at the prospect. A party sounded fun, especially one he could share with Octavia and Estrella. "We would love that, thank you, Beelzebub," he said with a grin. And just like that, an unlikely friendship began to bloom in the halls of Octavius's castle.
With a twinkle in her third eye and a buzz of her insect-like wings, Beelzebub winked out of the castle, leaving behind a distinct scent of honey and excitement. A small smile graced Octavius's face, a sign of the innocent joy of childhood that hadn't been seen in quite a while.
Octavia, who had been watching the exchange quietly, turned to her brother with a teasing grin, "Well, well, well," she drawled, "haven't seen you that flustered since you first laid eyes on Estrella."
Octavius blushed furiously at her remark, stammering in his defense, "I-I wasn't flustered! I was just... surprised."
Estrella snickered, leaning in to add her own commentary. "Sure, future husband. Whatever you say."
"Enough!" Octavius suddenly shouted, a note of frustration in his voice. His cheeks burned red as hot as the fires of Hell. "We're too young for these kinds of jokes!"
Octavia and Estrella burst into fits of laughter at the expression on Octavius's face, their giggles echoing off the stone walls of the castle. Even in the underworld, moments like this one were cherished — moments of pure, genuine, childish humor that temporarily shed the weight of their destinies.
Octavius scowled at his sister and future wife, arms folded across his chest. He was all for fun and games, but sometimes, they could really get on his nerves. Still, even with his irritation, the corners of his lips quirked upwards in a small, reluctant smile. He knew they meant no harm, after all, they were just kids.
As the laughter died down, the trio resumed their way through the castle, their footsteps light and their hearts full. Despite the foreboding surroundings, they managed to find warmth and joy. Just another day in the life of the Goetian family.