January 13th, 2012, Catacombs beneath the Paris Opera House, Paris, France, 12:30 AM BST (smut warnings: threesome, BDSM, girl-on-girl, cunnilingus, vampirism, anal)

Our drinks with Phantomas was mostly uneventful. He spent most of the time talking to Seras, seeing as he knew both Roran and Alucard. The vampire was a good host, and all his "darlings" were strutting around in those short ass togas, ripe tits and asses barely covered and oozing the traditional Veela "fuck me" vibe.

Even without the allure, curvy, scantily clad women dressed in scraps of cloth was enticing, and it only made me more determined to sample my own Veela. Eventually, I made excuses to get going, and Phantomas insisted on inviting me to a banquet the next week, which I graciously accepted before dragging my girls off and teleporting them back to my bedroom at the manor.

I sent Suzie and Daphne a message, telling them we were safe and to enjoy some alone time. Seras and Fleur and I were going to celebrate our victory the old fashioned way. Daphne demanded a repeat with her in a starring role, but they were fine with it.

Which left me home, with Fleur and Seras in my room. I admit, I was nearly crazed with lust, but I packed it down, wanting to savor the moment. "So." I said, leaning back on my bed. "What am I going to do with you two? You were very helpful tonight, and I think you deserve a reward. Fleur, you're new, so I think we should give Seras her reward first, don't you?"

Fleur's hooded eyes were pinned to me unblinkingly, and I could literally smell how horny she was (Veela pussy smelled like cherries, apparently). "Yes." She grunted out, so turned on she could barely speak.

Becoming a devil was a big change, and my new Rook had gone straight to Wrath when she first popped her wings, but now that the battle was won, my little Veela slut was getting that devil lust full blast. I turned to Seras, whose eyes were blazing red. "Seras." I purred. "Tell me what you want. You were so good tonight. You can have anything you like."

My vampire shuddered, swallowing hard as her eyes fixed on Fleur. "I want to taste her." She said dreamily. "She smells so good."

"Veins or pussy?" I asked crassly. "Or do you want to try them both?"

She nodded jerkily. "Both." She whispered. "I can smell her. Smell her sex and blood and they're mixing together. She smells like fucking and pastries and lust."

"Alright." I said with a smirk. "Unwrap your present, love."

That got another nod, and she stepped up next to Fleur, running hands over the other girl. Fleur purred, rubbing her thighs together a bit and whining, and Seras slapped an exposed ass cheek sharply. "Sit still." She hissed. "Good desserts don't struggle." Her voice was dark and hungry and Fleur's eyes fluttered as my vampire slowly dropped to her knees, sliding her short shorts down her plump, smooth thighs. When Fleur's cunt was exposed, I licked my lips, staring at that cute little trimmed patch over her tight little pussy. She even LOOKED like dessert.

I expected Seras to get right into it, but her hands slid up Fleur's ribs, peeling off her shirt and leaving my Veela completely exposed. Then she leaned forward and exhaled on the other girl's bare twat, earning another whine. This one she didn't punish.

Taking a long, deep sniff, Seras reached up and palmed the melon sized booty cheeks I'd been admiring for some time, then leaned in to lick. Fleur groaned, head falling back as my vampire enjoyed her treat. Seras didn't rush, her tongue sliding and swirling along the outside, dipping in sometimes, enjoying and tormenting the other girl as if she were playing an instrument.

I got off the bed, walking over to stroke Seras's hair. Kneeling down behind her, I slid my hands up her body, enjoying the soft feel of my vampire as I kneaded and groped her lush figure. "How does she taste?" I asked my red eyed girl. "Is she as sweet as I imagined?"

"Like candy." She giggled almost drunkenly. "I'm going to eat her all up."

I slapped one of her fat tits. "Don't get greedy." I said smugly. "You both belong to me. Let me taste."

She sighed happily, leaning her head back so I could kiss her, plundering her mouth as slowly and decadently as she'd been slurping that pussy. I tasted my pretty Veela off her lips, and she was right, Fleur tasted exquisite. "She is a sweet little bitch." I agreed lazily. "I think I'll enjoy another taste later. For now, I think our little eclair has been licked quite enough. Finish your snack so I can give her the cream filling she deserves."

"Please." Mewled the Veela. "Please shove yourself inside me, master."

I had already been pretty hard, but that last bit had me doing a fair imitation of solid steel. I grabbed Seras's hair, shoving her face back between the Veela's thick thighs, and Fleur let out a squeak as my vampire sank her fangs in. I stood up, circling around the back, my hands skimming her body as I compared it to Seras's.

"You want to get fucked?" I purred in her ear as my fingers played with her nipples, twisting them just shy of cruelty. Rooks were sturdy, and I had a solid sense of Fleur's level of arousal from the smell. I let her scent guide me, and was pleased to find that my new birdie was very much a pain slut (something I'd already kind of known, or at least Seras mentioned she was pretty damned subby).

She nodded, panting out short gasps as she tried to speak. "I need-" She inhaled as Seras adjusted her bite. "I need to be full of you master. Need to be stretched by you. Need to feel you breaking me."

I ground myself against her plump booty, my pants undoubtedly causing some friction against her smooth skin. "But Seras is having her dessert." I cooed. "You're going to be sisters now. It wouldn't be nice to make her stop. Are you asking me to send her away?"

Seras was drinking VERY slowly. Barely sipping from the femoral artery, teasing and lapping from the bodacious french girl like she was enjoying a fine wine. She didn't even look up from her meal as I asked, she knew me well enough to know I wasn't going to do that. Sure enough, Fleur didn't even ask.

"Non." She said, her accent coming out to tell me she was speaking english. "She can't stop. She feels so good. Please, maitre. Just be in me. I do not care where."

I reached down teasingly to grope her plump ass, peeling her cheeks apart and grinding my still pants covered cock between them. "Dirty girl. You want it back here? You want your master to fuck this fat Veela ass?" She whined, nodding quickly, but letting her head dip forward so her hair hid her face. I slapped a cheek. "I asked a question, slut. Answer properly, and make sure you make it humiliating."

"Yes!" She wailed. "Please buttfuck your Veela bitch master! Split me in half!"

Laughing, I dropped my hands to my pants and unbuttoned them, taking my cock out. Smiling, I bent my knees a bit, pressing the tip between her thighs, pushing my cock between them to coat it in her pussy juice. Pain slut or not I wasn't going into her ass dry. Rooks were sturdy, but I was big. My dick slid easily between her plump thighs, and I sighed in pleasure at the soft feel of them around me, amused when my cock poked into Seras's face and she didn't even notice.

I was shocked my vampire was taking so long to feed. The control needed to drink so slowly was staggering, and it underlined how hard she'd been working to master her nature, but between the thigh job and my future exploration of Veela guts, I was a bit distracted to praise her.

Once I'd slicked my dick enough, I pulled back, pushing on Fleur as she leaned forward a bit, careful not to disturb Seras. Then I pulled her ass cheeks apart again and put the head of my cock, about the size of a small plum, up against Fleur's asshole. Her breath caught, as if waiting for her whole world to change, and I started to push into her slowly.

She let out a low, keening wail as I penetrated her, enjoying the tight grip my monstergirl's rump had on my dick. My hands dug into her hips as my own pushed forward inexorably, going deeper and deeper and deeper.

It felt like the process took hours, one inch at a time slowly feeding into her. I tried stopping a few times, but she just snarled at me to get deeper, to get further inside her, and I granted her wish bit by bit until my balls were snuggled up against bouncy booty cheeks. "Fuck." I groaned. "How are you so tight?"
"No man has ever been my cul, maitre." She panted. "I wanted you to be the first. I feel so…needed. Like I belong to you. I needed to give you something special." That was probably the bond from the evil pieces, but I wasn't going to complain. I wasn't sure if it was being a Rook or a Veela, but Fleur's ass seemed to be adjusting to me quickly, and I couldn't resist enjoying my prize a bit more vigorously.

I slid out of her, then shoved back in, faster this time. She let out a happy whine, and I did it again, the springy cheeks of her ass bouncing off my hips as I fucked it. I sped up, really getting into her, fucking harder and faster, my finger tips squeezing her hips so tight I worried they might bruise.

She didn't even flinch, her hand sliding down her belly to strum her clit. Seras moaned a bit, presumably a change in taste from the adrenaline, but I didn't stop.

"Fuck this is a good hole." I groaned as my hips clapped her jiggly french ass. "Is your pussy this good?"

She nodded drunkenly. "Oui!" She said, Her english allowing her to slip in an odd french word. "Veela are uniquely gifted in pleasing our men." She was giggling as I fucked her. "Mon chatte is incredible. "

I slapped her ass. "Arrogant little bitch." I said fondly. "You're going to prove that tonight. Your ass is getting tighter. You're gonna cum, aren't you slut? You gonna get off from being buttfucked for the first time?"

"Oui!" She whined again. "Maitre, so close. Can I cum? Please?"

I felt my own balls tightening, and I knew I was going to fill her tight little guts with cum and second. I wanted to feel what her asshole was like when she was cumming. I reached up, twisting a nipple on one of her fat tits roughly. "Fine." I grunted. "But you better scream for me slut." I flexed my will, easily casting a silencing charm on the room to prevent noise from leaking.

She nodded frantically. Her babbling shifted fully into french, ironically rendering it perfect english to me. "Yes,yes,yes,yes,YES, fuck master my ass, you're breaking my fat ass, I'm going to fucking explode!"

Her squeals were accompanied by shaking and clenching, and saw her squirt all over Seras's face as I emptied my balls into her ass, groaning in ecstasy as her tight hole milked my cock in the best way. Seras, who had been rubbing her own cunt as she drank, stiffened, fangs still in Fleur's thigh as she came herself.

When she was done, she slowly pulled off the other girl, licking the wound to close it with her vampire saliva (mild healing properties, or at least coagulation) before running a hand over her face and licking it clean with a sigh. I tossed Fleur bodily onto the bed, grabbing my vampire and shoving her onto my cock. She sucked me without question, and I grinned at the twitching Veela on the bed as she cleaned me off.

"When you're done, go over there, climb on top of her, and get your ass up in the air." I told my vampire as I stroked her short hair. "Don't worry though. I'm in the mood for pussy this time." This was going to be a great night.

January 14th, 2012, Ryan's Manor, London, England, 10:30 AM BST

I woke exhausted. Pleasants exhausted, mind you, but exhausted. I was so out of it I took a second to realized a hand was wrapped around my cock, stroking lightly. I groaned and pulled it away, only to realize the Veela it was attached to wasn't even awake. She'd been subconsciously jerking me off in her sleep.

"Ok." I said to Seras over the drooling, cum drenched form of my new monstergirl. "I'm not crazy right? That was absurd?"

She nodded quickly. "Dear God, yes. Between the blood I drank, the number of times she squirted, and all the squirming and humping, I have no idea how she isn't dead from dehydration. It was like trying to wrestle a dragon. She just fucked and fucked and fucked."

"I feel like she had an extra hole at some point?" I said in awe. "My dick was going so many places. I remember thinking when we met that every part of her was made for fucking, but gods." I glanced down at Fleur, using a quick cleansing charm to clean her off, because sitting next to her when she was almost caked in cum wasn't great.

She stirred at the wave of magic, snuggling up to me, kissing up my neck. "Mmmm, maitre ,are you ready to feed mon chatte again?"

I was actually getting hard again, but Seras slapped a thick, slightly bruised booty cheek. "None of that now, you minx." She said commandingly. "If you get us started we'll never get out of bed. Go get dressed."

Fleur pouted fetchingly before languidly sliding out of bed and walking slowly to the bathroom, her dumptruck ass jiggled and bounced, hips swaying side to side hypnotically as she walked.

"You think that was a devil thing or a Veela thing?" I asked when she was gone. "Because that was one of the best fucks I've ever had, but I don't think I'd ever stop if I didn't cut her off. I remember being horny when I first got laid as a devil, but not to this extent."

Seras licked her lips. "It's definitely Veela. My cunt is soaked, I'm having trouble not climbing on top of you right now. Her blood is making me so fucking horny. I've had devil blood, it's tasty but it doesn't make me ache to get my muffin buttered. Fuck I hope this wears off soon, I don't want to walk around creaming my panties all day."

I pulled her over to me, hand falling to one of her abundant tits and lazily groping it. "You could always stay in bed all day. I've been looking for reasons to spend time together. We were so busy with Fleur we didn't have time to play your favorite game." I grabbed my wand off the bedside table, letting wisps of black drift off it in tantalizing tentacles.

She pouted at me. "That's just not fair. And fucking doesn't count as quality time, luv, not even with a tasty little cream puff smashed between us."

"I know." I sighed. "Honestly I planned an actual day off today. I was going to ask Fleur to teach us horseback riding. But I was led astray by that endlessly thirsting Veela pussy. I'm going to have to set you and Daphne on her constantly to keep her fucked out or I'll never get anything productive done again."

She snickered. "Oh I'm sure the princess will be heartbroken. You know how she gets about a pair of big tits."

"I'm with her one that." I said, giving her a meaningful squeeze. "But yeah. So, how have you been liking hanging out with Fleur? Your new bird girl bestie keeping you out of trouble? I thought you might get along."

My vampire just rolled her eyes. "Bitch, we might be. But yes, she's a sweetie. Suzie gets me better in terms of what I've been through, but everyone is Suzie's best friend. It's nice having someone to hang out with that's just for me. The Holmes to my Watson, like Tracey and Hannah are for the girls."

"You should start a detective agency." I said solemnly. "You even have police training. I'd watch that show."

"I bet." She said dryly. "But I'm pretty sure it would just be porn if you had your way."

I shrugged. "Know your audience. Big titty blonde detectives, you know people would want to see you guys fuck. But for real, I'm glad you have someone to talk to. I'm planning to take you out to dinner next week, so clear your schedule. I'll have you home by eleven. No sex."

She blew a raspberry at me, but then giggled and gave me a quick peck. "In that case, I'm going to get up. You need to head back to Beauxbatons and I have to get back to Hufflepuff. Poor Scooby is probably pining after me. I already miss him."

"Oui!" Said Fleur as she breezed back into the room. She'd apparently conjured some sort of sweater dress that made her look like a freshly fucked fertility goddess, and her face was glowing. "Gabi will be waiting for me. She will want to hear all about my wonderful evening with you."

Raising an eyebrow, I snorted. "Based on her comments the other day, I'm pretty sure Gabi desperately wants exactly no details about your sex life."

"It is good for her." She said dismissively she lives like…how do you say, a nun?"

"You know how to say a nun." I pointed out with amusement. "Because you speak english perfectly, at least when you put your mind to it. The accent is an affectation at this point. You have to be actively trying."

She blew me a kiss. "I simply know my maitre enjoys being reminded he bagged a, what was the term you used when inside me? "a little french bitch"? She winked. "I will be your creampuff anytime, darling." Pausing, she cocked her head. "Also, I believe I met your mother. She is a lovely woman."

"What did she say to embarrass you?" I asked wryly. My mom like to say outlandish shit when she caught my girls sneaking around to get a reaction.

Felur shrugged. "Nothing embarrassing. We had a lovely talk about how much she enjoyed the shade of my nipples, and tried to decide if they were more strawberry milk or bubblegum in coloration."

"Hah!" Said Seras triumphantly. "The old girl has met her match. Can't shame the shameless."

My Veela pouted. "I am not 'shameless". I am simply very confident in my body and feel no need to act reserved of nervous about exposing it in a safe environment. It is not my fault that this attempt at 'embarassment' failed. Besides, Ryan loves my breasts, it is only reasonable that his mother would compliment them as well."

"We need to have a talk about French and or Veela social norms one of these days." I laughed. "But glad to see you're ready. Why don't we go have breakfast with mom before we head back though. I miss Daisy's cooking."

"Oh, me too!" Said Seras excitedly. "I may be able to survive on blood, but living without Daisy's chocolate souffles isn't living at all."

I clicked my tongue. "See what I have to deal with?" I said to Fleur. "I used to feed her Jaffa Cakes, now she eats chocolate souffle. I went and turned her into a fancy bitch."

"It's true." She admitted proudly. "I'm very posh."

Rolling my eyes, I headed downstairs, leaving them to chat as they followed behind. My mom was at the kitchen table when we got there, sipping her coffee and reading the daily prophet. "Ryan! Good to see you dear. I wish I'd known you were coming. I appreciate the silencing charms, however, or I suspect my meeting with your new friend would have been somewhat awkward."

Fleur beamed. "It is true, he pleasured me extensively last night. I was quite loud."

My mom chuckled. "Can't embarrass this one even a little. I like her. Sit girls, Daisy will make you anything you like. I recommend the blintzes."

"I will have an egg white omelette with feta cheese, spinach, and mushrooms, with a side of fresh fruit." Fleur said cheerfully. "I have to watch my figure." She gestured down at her frankly outrageous curves.

I winked at her. "Don't worry, I can watch it for you. I'll have a country fried steak with a side of hash browns and two biscuits. Oh, and scrambled eggs on the side, Daisy knows how I like them."

"Meat." Said Seras solemnly. "Steak and eggs. Extra steak. None of that fussy breading for me, I want it pan seared and bloody." She smirked at me. "I eat my steak properly, without any of that american gravy nonsense." She sniffed pretentiously. "I'll never know why you need so much dressing for a good cut of meat."

"Because it has flavor." I said acidly. "Something you wouldn't know anything about. Invaded half the world for spices and then decided you didn't like any of them."

Fleur nodded. "It is true." She admitted. "You brits are known for your…banal taste in meals. Though the sugar dump that is american food is hardly better. They both pale in comparison to french cuisine."

"Yeah, because eating snails is the height of culinary excellence." I snorted. My plate was suddenly filled with the food I'd requested, and I beamed over at the stove. "Hey thanks Daisy. You're the best."

She beamed back at me. "Master is being very welcome. Daisy is loving to cook for master and guests."

"Thank you Daisy." Said my mother with a warm smile. "You're a credit to the household." She turned to look at us, sipping her coffee. "So, tell me about your plans for the rest of your time at Beauxbatons. And over the summer. Now that things have calmed down I imagine you're far more free." She raised an eyebrow. "Not that you MENTIONED any of that mess to your poor old mother. I had to hear it all secondhand from Dora. Attacks at a banquet by werewolves, Nicholas Flamel, vampires? Honestly what is the world coming to."

I shrugged. "War, most likely. At least eventually. We need to stop in and check with Ravel, actually. Val mentioned he was the one who brought the whole kidnapped witches thing to her attention. Without him we'd have missed a whole bunch of very nasty things."

She sighed. "I agree. Though I'd like to hear the rest of your adventure. You got in late last night, but you must have been up to something exciting."

So I filled her in on the catacombs and their occupants, making sure to make everything sound grand and dramatic so she'd assume I was overstating things. I didn't like making my mom worry, but that whole mess had been dangerous.

She clicked her tongue when I finished. "Imagine meeting Phantomas himself. What a dramatic and fascinating figure. I wish I'd been able to speak to him."

My mom was a student of vampire lore, so I wasn't surprised, but the ugly vampire's collection of scantily clad Veela made me pretty glad she wouldn't be meeting him. If he decided to 'collect' my mother I'd have to fight him. And probably lose. Which wouldn't be fun for anyone. Safer to keep her away.

I dug into my breakfast, enjoying Daisy's food as I listened to the three of them talk and chimed in where needed. It was surprisingly peaceful, and it made me smile to see how well Fleur fit in. It was nice to be home, even if for a little bit. Despite all the things we'd gotten done, we had quite a lot to accomplish still, in Beauxbatons, back at Hogwarts, and out in the world. Yes, things were just beginning, and we were certainly living in interesting times.

January 14th, 2012, Black Manor, London, England, 11:00 AM BST

Instead of heading back to Beauxbatons right away, I decide to let Seras take Fleur back and take a side trip to Hogwarts. Specifically to the room of my favorite badass goth. Unfortunately she wasn't in. Apparently SOMEBODY was using her teleportation power to shack up with her ex con boyfriend on weekends.

So I arrived at the Black Manor, only to be interrupted by Kreacher as soon as I arrived. "Young master!" Shouted the elf as he emerged from nowhere. "You is being alright! Nasty master wouldn't be telling Kreacher anything about young master."

"I'm all good Kreacher." I said with a reassuring smile. "I actually came to visit Val. Is she here?"

He blinked at me. "Master's strumpet? She is being coming over every night she can. Disgusting master isn't using silencing charms, and she is screaming very lou-"

"That's quite enough of that you little troll." Snapped my Queen as she stalked into the room. "Go to your attic." Kreacher sneered at her and then popped out of existence. "Unpleasant little toad. Sirius has a soft spot for him deep down, but I can't stand him."

I shrugged. "He's fine with me. Maybe Sirius will let me take him home. Anyway, I need to talk to you."

She glared at me in annoyance. "I assumed, which is why I'm not warm upstairs in bed with my very dashing boyfriend. It's eleven in the morning on a Sunday, Ryan, what could you possibly need from me."

"I need your held with necromancy." I said with a grin. "Because I think I found a way to destroy the soul fragments in the Horcruxes without destroying the items they're bound to." I explained to her what I'd figured out about the Brulee Noire. She'd been around for the ending of that mess, but hadn't seen Bermuda use the black burn on me.

She hummed in consideration. "I mean, we have been running into trouble with that locket. Damned thing is goblin silver, you can drop a building on it and it won't even scratch." She turned on her heel, heading down the hall to a drawing room. She pulled out an old brass key and shoved it in the lock, opening a circle in one hand. She snapped off a quick request to Skulduggery and let it close.

When he appeared, he didn't seem bothered by the interruption at all. Val, meanwhile, turned and stalked out of the room. My skeletal Bishop cocked his head at me. "Ah, Ryan, lovely morning today, don't you think?"

"It's not bad." I said with a laugh. "Why did she call you? I asked you about the black burn already, and I know you can't do it. Not that I don't enjoy your sparkling personality, but it seems like a waste of time."

Val came strolling back in. "Because we aren't going to be studying it personally. We're going to visit…a friend. Skulduggery happens to scare him more than I do, and he doesn't know you. I figured we could play a little good cop bad cop." She turned to the skeleton. "That is, if you're alright with threatening Solomon Wreath."

"I do believe I can make peace with such an action." He said dryly. "It may be difficult, but I shall soldier on."

"Wreath is your mentor, right?" I asked as she adjusted her bulletproof suit. "The guy who taught you necromancy while Skullduggery was off in never come back land? I thought he sold you out to the necromancer temple?"

Skullduggery shook his head. "Not sold her out. He thinks she's their messiah. He believes he's acting in her best interests."

"Which pisses me right off." She snapped. "I don't need his patronizing bullshite. I'm totally fine taking care of myself." Despite her harsh words, I could hear some hurt in there, deep down. She'd trusted Wreath, and he'd screwed her. I almost wanted to call off whatever this was, but I couldn't afford to lose the lead.

"So Wreath knows Bermuda, I take it?" I asked cautiously.

Skullduggery nodded. "His protege. Bermuda is old and powerful. He's trained quite a few necromancers at the temple, and they pay him back with support. It's part of why I think he was able to push this Death Bringer nonsense. Auron Tenebrea, the current high priest of the temple, is younger and less talented, and had been training disciples for far less time."

"So why isn't Bermuda in charge?" It seemed weird to me that the strongest wouldn't be running the show in a place like that.

"Because he doesn't have the patience." Skullduggery shrugged. "Bermuda wasn't even particularly active during the war. He mostly just hid and did experiments. He's not the type to get involved. If he wanted the job he'd have it, but he was never interested."

Val finished her preparations, and closed her eyes, then opened a circle. We stepped through, ending up outside of a well appointed penthouse with an emerald green door. The knocker was a skull with a hanging jaw, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Val ignored me, and Skullduggery, and rapped on the door briskly.

After a minute, there was a scraping noise and the eyes of the skull knocker revealed empty holes as someone peeked out. There was a slight pause before the door opened, and a pale man, dark hair greying at the temples, opened the door.

His eyes were hollow, and dark with lack of sleep, and his suit was hanging off his skeletal frame. He seemed…afraid. But not of violence. "Valkyrie." He said quietly.

"Solomon." She said coldly as she stormed past him, shoving the lanky man aside. "You look like shite." She looked around the penthouse, trash and empty food containers strewn everywhere. "Nice to see it at least bothered you to sell me out to the temple."

He flinched. "It wasn't…you were in no danger. Lord Bermuda wants only the best for you. He's simply trying to help you fulfill your destiny." It sounded weak, like he didn't really believe it.

"By having me possessed by a remnant?" She demanded. "By letting some demon ghost bodyjack me so I wouldn't resist? How could you do that Solomon? You were my friend, how could you bring that thing to the tattoo shop and give it to Finbarr, knowing that they would do the same to me."

"I didn't know!" He said quickly. "I didn't know what Wrong would say. Once I did…you don't know what Lord Bermuda can do Valkyrie. The things he's capable of. Death would be a mercy. He would never harm you, but he has no such compunctions about me."

She sneered at him. "Just a weasel trying to save your own life then. How pathetic."

He shook his head sadly. "Think what you like, child. I do care for you. If you came to punish me for my betrayal, I can't imagine one worse than I've imposed on myself, but I'll not stop you from attempting it. But before you do, know you need to be careful. Melancholia St. Claire, the other Death Bringer candidate. She knows of you. Tenebrae has been grooming her. She will accept no other outcome than being the one true Death Bringer."

"Great." Sighed my Queen. "Crazy cultist bullshit. I'll keep it in mind. But I'm not here to punish you, Solomon. I'm here to offer you a chance at redemption." She paused. "THough Skullduggery is probably looking forward to punishing you if you don't take it. He's got some…unresolved issues to work out."

He eyes gleamed, some life returning to them. "Redemption? Of course, I'd do anything to atone for my sins against you Valkyrie. Our time as master and student is quite dear to me. I AM your friend, even if you don't believe it."

"That's good." She said soothingly. "Because we need a big favor. I need you to teach Ryan here how to perform the black burn."

Wreath flinched so hard he almost flipped over the back of the couch. "The WHAT?" He hissed. "Valkyrie that technique is an abomination. It is forbidden. It consumes the soul. The life stream is made up of a consistent number of spirits going in and out, a solid cycle of reincarnation and death. To destroy a spirit…it's anathema."

"Bermuda does it." I said wryly. "I've seen him. He tried to do it to me."

"That's…" He hesitated. "Lord Bermuda is very wise. Perhaps he knows something I do not. But to teach that spell to anyone is forbidden. I only learned it myself as a test of ability. We aren't supposed to go near it, but it's considered the most dangerous of the necromancer arts. I just wanted to see if I could learn it…"

He was rambling, but Val put a hand on his shoulder. "Solomon." She said softly, eyes boring into his. "I need your help. If you're my friend, really and truly. If you valued me as a student, or care about me as a person, I need you to teach him."

The eyes glazed over again, like he wasn't seeing us, and finally, he closed them sadly and nodded.

"For you, child." He said brokenly. "For my redemption. I will do this thing. But I can only try. I am not the first to wish to understand the secrets of the burn. Many renegade necromancers have tried. I am considered a genius in my field, and even I barely mastered it."

I waved off his concerns. "I don't think it'll be an issue. Just show me how to do it, and I'll pick it up quick. I have a knack."

His expression didn't seem convinced, but he nodded. "Come." He said with a sigh. "We must adjourn to my practice room. The burn is not subtle. It leaves traces that can be followed, creates phenomena a master can detect. If I teach you in an unshielded room, others will know."

Turning, he headed down a hallway, clearly expecting us to follow, which we did. We came to an empty stretch of wall. He tapped his cane against it, and the dark painted wall dissolved into clouds of shadow, sucked into the cane. Behind the wall was a pair of elevator doors, and he tapped the button, waiting patiently.

When the doors opened, we all entered, and he hit the button on the bottom, an unmarked white circle.

The elevator descended for quite some time, and when we reached the bottom, it opened into a large, extravagant chamber filled with columns. The ceiling was shrouded in darkness, but with my dark visio, I could see we were in some kind of cement understructure. It was large but mostly empty.

Mostly. Off in the distance, I saw many items that could be used for experiments, and even more dead bodies. Someone had been doing some nasty shit down here, and I had three guesses on who. Not my business though, so I just ignored it.

Leading us to the center he tapped his cane again, and a cylindrical wall rose around us. "We are safe here." He said with a sigh. "These defenses will contain our energy and prevent any observation." Turning to me, he raised his cane and gestured. "I assume, since you wish to learn, you are a necromancer yourself. Bring out your focus. Show me what you can do."

I drew my wand, letting the dark power unspool, and he watched me calmly, a judgemental expression on his face. I shrugged. "Sorry, necromancy is a side hustle. I never focused much on it."

Sneering, he cracked his neck. "To grasp the burn, you must at LEAST understand the essence of phase changing. You have brought me a poor student indeed Valkyrie. I shall endeavor to correct his deficiencies so I might accomplish your task." Twirling his cane between his fingers, he smiled coldly. "Defend yourself, boy." And then the shadows around me attacked.

January 14th, 2012, Solomon Wreath's Penthouse, Dublin, Ireland, 12:00 PM BST

Fighting Solomon Wreath was obnoxious. I cursed, throwing myself the side as his attacks struck out at me. Slithering shadows, clouds, spiked balls and blades and a dozen other shapes and forms flowed seamlessly, attacking me with nearly no warning, and only my devil reflexes let me keep ahead of them.

"You're reacting." He said in a bored tone. "I said you need to learn control, To shift the phases of your power."

I growled, flicking my wand, and a liquid wave of darkness rolled across the floor, shifting to become a fog bank, shards of obsidian sharp spikes erupting from random positions to try to puncture the man. "I can already do that."

His power dispersed from the cane, concealing him in a cloud, and I heard the clanks of deflected blades before the smoke dispersed.

"Barely." He said with a sneer. "You've mastered the appearance of the technique, but not the intention. The phases of death aren't SHAPING exercises. They a way to attune your necromancy to the various phenomena surrounding our mystic art. The creeping rot of liquid, the pervasive consumption of smoke, the piercing darkness of solid death."

I paused, considering that, and then yelped as I almost got pincushioned. "Fuck!" I spat. "Give me a second to think." He smirked, but pulled back his energy. "So you're implying the black burn is just another phase of death? Liquid, solid, gas…plasma?"

"You're being too scientific." He said dismissively. "The phases of death are aligned with phases of matter, but aren't the same. It's simply a way for novices to conceptualize them. That thinking may help you master the other phases, but the black burn is a technique even most Master Necromancers can't perfect."

I was ignoring him. He might have mocked my understanding, but at the very least I was on the right track. Once I mastered the other phases, I could move on. Luckily for me, intent was my best subject. I waved my wand in front of me, manifesting my power, and considered exactly what it was.

I'd always considered these to be corporeal shadows, just darkness in its pure form. It was only called necromancy because it could be used to make zombies.

But the way Solomon talked, and the way he'd been wielding it, showed me that was the wrong way to think of things. This wasn't darkness, it was death. Resurrection (or the necromantic facsimile of it) wasn't anything as simple as puppetry, it was the act of perverting the death inside of a deceased being, taking ownership of it, and changing its phase to something closer to life.
That was how Voldemort was able to manipulate the soul how he did. Because his experience with horcruxes meant that parts of his spirit weren't alive anymore. They were dead, and he was able to alter that death state to achieve new results.

It implied there were many more phases of death than phases of matter, which was what Solomon had been saying in his deeply obnoxious way. He'd given me those examples, but he wanted me to know they were just a few of the ways I could use this power. In fact, the phases of death were near endless, because they needed to take the form of each individual corpse's death as they revived them.

That brought up a series of very interesting questions about murder golems like Jager, who was made of multiple serial killers, and who most likely had multiple phases of death woven together to create new results. In fact, there were probably as many types of necromancy as there were types of magic itself. Death was everything, and even nothing.

I twirled my wand between my fingers, and I tried to imagine one of my favorite spells. My cutting curse. Then I moved, unleashing the same general shape of power, with the same intent, but made of my necromancy.

I didn't try to shape it physically this time. I tried to shape it the way I would a normal spell. The reason my necromancy had to be converted to what it was. Death and Life were polar opposites, and what was magic but Life?

A wave of cutting darkness flew out, slamming into and partially bisecting one of the nearby columns.

Solomon's eyebrow went up. "How…unexpected. It takes most initiates decades to grasp even that much control over phases." I explained to him how I'd conceptualized the spell, and he looked intrigued. "That's certainly a novel viewpoint. I suspect the lack of overlap between the disciplines has made this little nugget of information all but impossible to discover."

"It explains how good Voldemort seems to be with necromancy." I rebutted. "He might not show it, but he's stupidly talented with magic."

He shrugged. "Perhaps. I would be surprised if people like Lord Bermuda don't have at least some inkling. I've seen some truly terrifying displays of power. But this isn't a problem. In fact, it's a blessing. Your grasp on phases means you should be capable of learning the burn, or at least more capable than most others who have attempted it."

"Cool. So…what's the spell?" If necromancy could be used to basically cast spells from the other side, then the black burn must be an inversion of something truly terrifying. Before he could answer though, I froze, because I already knew. "Fiendfyre." I muttered.

It made perfect sense. Fiendfyre consumed anything physical that got in its way. The deathly equivalent would be a flame that consumed NOTHING physical, only spiritual. Spells like cutting curses were pretty basic, so there wasn't much difference between the life and death aspected versions, but specialized destruction spells like Fiendfyre…those would be fundamentally altered by casting them with death instead of life.

He looked pensive. "Perhaps. I admit, I haven't seen that particular bit of wizardry in action. It's quite rare. But you may be onto something."

"I think I am." I said calmly. "Tell me, you said the Brulee Noire is dangerous. You said most can't learn it. What happens if you try and fail?" Fiendfyre was notoriously difficult to contain, and had a habit of turning on its wielder.

"It consumes you." He said bluntly. "Burns your soul away rather than your enemy."

That was the missing link. The reason the black burn was as rare among necromancers as Fiendfyre was among wizards, if not moreso. Because it required supreme intent. Most necromancers, even Val, thought they were just manipulation a dark substance. They never reached the realm of infusing intent into their power to create 'spells' because they didn't know they could.

From that perspective, it was terrifying ANYONE could use the black burn. They shouldn't be able to get close to that level of intent without specialized training. It made Wreath so much more impressive.

The problem, of course, was that I didn't KNOW how to cast Fiendfyre. I hoped Wreath knew what he was doing, otherwise I'd be straight up fucked.

Surprisingly, he kind of did. He shared his thoughts and impressions of the 'phase' of death needed to produce the flame. It took immense concentration and intent to convert my power into the flame, but I had both. It only took about an hour before I could spark my first flame.

Of course, I wasn't a fucking moron, so I only tried to spark a fraction of my necromantic power into the flame…and I still almost died.

The second the spark hit my power, the black energy went up like a fucking oil slick. I had to smash the energy out with my intent, smothering it like a grease fire, before I was finally able to extinguish it, and I was literally milliseconds from my wand burning to ash.

Lucky for me, devils weren't subject to the burn, and the flames that licked me didn't cause any damage to me at all.

Solomon looked shocked when I managed it, but I shook my head in frustration. "Ok. So I can spark it, but Bermuda used it at a distance. I thought it was some advanced application, but it seems like separating your necromancy from your repository is a necessary step in keeping control of the burn."

He nodded jerkily. "It is. I admit, I did not expect you to even come close to accomplishing this task, or I'd have warned you."

"So…tell me how to cast necromantic spells remotely." I said with building excitement. "I can only do them attached to my repository."

This would be a HUGE coup for me. Not just because of the burn, but because necromancy, as a mirror to wizard magic, could show me how to recreate the effect with my normal spells. I'd be able to remotely cast magic from a distance, even ostensibly anchored spells like disarming charms.

Beams were similar to the way my necromantic power worked, needing to remain anchored to my wand, though they were much less flexible.

The necromancer seemed far less snide now that he'd seen what I could do. He actually looked a little excited, in a dour way. "Of course. The phase of death that is used to spread your necromancy at a distance isn't simply on ability. There are multiple schools of thought. My particular preference is for the seed stratagem."

He twirled his cane, shadows emerging and flowing into a cloud again, but this time the cloud spread, dispersing across the room. Looking close, i could see that the dispersed cloud had spread into thousands of tiny little motes of darkness, drifting in the air. Solomon tapped his cane, and a dozen or so motes exploded into instant attacks, blades emerging from seemingly thin air.

Tapping it again, he dismissed them all, and the motes whirled into a funnel cloud that was sucked back into his cane.

"This particular style requires close proximity, even moreso than some others, but it provides infinite flexibility. Mysterious and inexplicable patterns of attack make countering the seed stratagem difficult if not impossible. Of course, creating so many seeds is difficult and requires experience, as does controlling them independently. But creating a single seed and controlling that? It should be more than possible."

Raising my wand again, I manifested my necromancy. Black smoke, one of the easiest phases. Part of me wondered what the Life based equivalent of this would be, if I could even make one. Maybe the base form was just fundamentally different. Dismissing the thought, I focused on Solomon's description letting his words fill my head, letting the image percolate.

The smoke started to drift apart, to dissolve as smoke did, and I focused my intent in one miniscule spot, condensing a 'seed'. It took me about ten tries, being wildly different than any other spell I'd ever done.

Once I managed to get it separated, I had to try to control it. First moving it, then changing its phase. Even learning that pincushion trick was tough. The one upside was that conservation of matter didn't seem to apply. I could funnel more of my power into the seed to created instantaneous powerful attacks, if I wanted to.

Since that was the opposite of my plan right now though, I ignored it and focused on the black burn.

Finally, after three or four hours, I managed to create a single spark of baleful black fire, floating gently in the air and easily controlled. It wouldn't be enough to burn the locket or ring, but I could add to it, slowly acclimate to controlling more and more.

I turned to Val with a wide smile, excitement singing in my veins. "Let's get back to the manor. I want to test this out on one of our…assets." This was groundbreaking, both in terms of my combat ability and my threat to the damned horcruxes. Even Voldemort himself would be vulnerable to this little beauty (though I suspected the necromantic sections of his soul wouldn't burn the same as normal spirit). I was one step closer to leveling the playing field.

January 14th, 2012, Grimmauld Place, London, England, 7:00 PM BST

By the time we finished training, teleporting back to Beauxbatons would have ended up drawing more attention, plus I wanted to take a look at the locket, so I decided to stay over at my uncle's place. Val took the excuse to do the same, and considering she'd be helping me with the locket I didn't bother to complain.

"So are you sure you can't do it?" I asked as we strolled inside. "Like I know your tries at Solomon's didn't work, but it was your first time. I'm sure you could learn."

She shook her head. "It's not…my necromancy isn't the same as yours. I already had it. Your necromantic power is converted from demonic energy, mine is natural. It shouldn't make a difference, but it REALLY does."

I sighed. "It's the adaptability I bet." I admitted. "Demonic energy can be anything with enough intent, and intent is the secret sauce in the black burn too. The overlap is probably why I got it so quick when ninety percent of necromancers never manage. I'd like to think I'm just that brilliant, but…well, when you hear hoofbeats think horses, not zebras."

"So the others will have a better chance to learn?" She pouted. "Assuming they learn necromancy at all."

I shrugged. "Blaise was talking about it, but who knows. Anyway it's only fair. Your ability to make Hellfire depends on your being an elemental before becoming a devil, this just balances it out."

"I'm a person." She snapped. "I don't need to be BALANCED. This isn't a video game."

Smirking, I said in a condescending tone. "You can't possibly prove that. Anyway, I'm going to find Kreacher. I suspect he's going to want to be in on this endeavor. Cleansing the locket will fulfill my dad's last wish, and it's all he's ever wanted."

She snorted. "Once you get him meet me in the basement. I have the containment circle set up down there. Cina helped me design it, and it's as safe as houses." She paused. "Well, not THIS house, this house is a fucking nightmare. I think there's some kind of racoon monster living in one of the closets, though it seems to move a lot."

That didn't exactly instill confidence in her containment circle, but since the locket hadn't been stolen yet, I would give her the benefit of the doubt that it was racoon monster proof at least.

I was about to go look for Kreacher, when I realized I was being stupid. I just said his name with intent, and seconds later the little bat eared weirdo popped into existence in front of me. He beamed at the sight of me. "Young master is needing Kreacher?" He asked with delight. "Is you being having another mission for Kreacher?"
Smiling conspiratorially, I nodded. "Yup. The biggest mission. I need you to protect Val. We're finally going to destroy the evil magic in that locket. But it'll be dangerous. Val is my friend and I need to know she'll be safe."

He sniffed. "Protect the strumpet. Kreacher's mistress would roll over in her grave. Master fornicates with her day and night. She'll pollute the bloodline soon, with those huge birthing hips, she is practically made for spawning." Val snarled, shadow whips lashing out from her ring as she dove for him, but he popped away. "Look! Kreacher is doing nothing and she attacks like an animal."

I stifled a chuckle. "Kreacher, it's rude to comment on people's sex lives or how fertile they are or might be."

"But it is being compliment." He said in confusion. "She is not having any other use."

That time I had to actually tackle Val and wrestle her down. I was pretty sure she could have gotten out, but chose not to so she didn't hurt me. Either way was fine. I managed to calm her down, told Kreacher not to speak in her presence anymore, and followed them down into the basement where the locket was contained.

The staircase down was dark wood in a small closet, spiraling so tightly I could barely fit. "Who makes a fucking staircase this tight." I growled as I turned sideways to get through.

Val snorted. "Easy for you to say. Even sideways doesn't work for me." She grimaced down at her cleavage. Once we made it to the bottom, we emerged into a large dank room with low ceilings and shelves everywhere.

In the center of the uneven stone floor I saw a huge carved circle bubbling with liquid darkness. The runes carved into the stone glowed with a lambent red light, and in the center I saw a pedestal with the locket floating above it. A column of red light held it pinned in the air, and around it wisps of black smoke swirled, slamming into the red light, causing small flashes as it searched for weak spots.

"Did it do that before?" I asked lamely. "Because I feel like I'd have noticed that."

Laughing, Val just shook her head. "The soul fragment inside it was stirred up by the necromantic energy in the ritual. I learned a lot about necromancy working on it actually, I had to fill it up like a car to make sure it was properly equipped to deal with the fragment. I can take it down, but not much else. It's going to attack when we drop the shield, just like it did in the cave."

"How much can it do on its own? I asked skeptically. "I mean, it needed all that built up necromantic energy last time, right?"

"Last time it was asleep." She said grudgingly. "That was more like reflex than actual combat. It won't be as strong this time, but it'll be way more skilled. Sentient, dangerous, and PISSED. You sure you can take this thing?"

I clenched my fist around my wand, taking a second to steady myself. "Yeah…yeah I got this."

Blowing out a slow breath, she nodded. "I can take it down completely, or make a hole. Just in case shit goes down you can shove it back inside and close it up. If I take it all the way down I won't be able to get it back up again. China did most of the heavy lifting."

"Make a hole." I said bluntly. "It's why I brought Kreacher." Well, it was one of the reasons, but I knew that would make the little guy feel good about himself. She just rolled her eyes and nodded, then held her ring out toward the circle.

A wave of shadow surged forward, breaking up into a half dozen smaller tentacles. As they approached the circle, they shot down and plunged into six different runes, causing the lambent glow to pulse brighter. The pillar of red light started to flicker, the power shifting, and the glow got patchy.

The locket shot toward a weak spot, punching through the light with a shattering noise and shooting toward us. The light pilled stabilized, energy fluctuations calming as the broken spot became a clean circle, but I had other shit to worry about.

A shield charm snapped into place, bouncing the locket off, and as it flew away the dark smoke still emanating from it became a humanoid figure. A wraith.

I snapped off a barrage of cutting curses, all with intent to damage spiritual entities, but as expected, they mostly just shot past or through the monster. Of course, that hadn't been the point. They had been to buy time as my wand emitted black smoke of its own, particles detaching and floating off into the air imperceptibly.

I lifted off the ground, the three particles I'd managed to get the hang of drifting off the breeze from my flapping wings. I didn't NEED to flap them, granted, but Voldemort didn't know that, and they were doing the job of propelling the seeds much more subtly than would otherwise be possible.

The wraith hissed menacingly, hands weaving disturbing shapes in the air, and magic blazed out, shatting the stone and walls as I dodged, dipped, ducked, and dodged. Kreached raised his arms menacingly, and a pop heralded a dome of shimmering power that stopped any spells that hit it cold.

I smiled to myself. House elves were masters of their domains. Within their homes they were staggeringly versatile, and that INCLUDED tapping into the wards to put up defenses.

Skipping sideways I dodged an attack and then shot another cutter, the wraith, having felt SOMETHING at least, instinctively moved, and I grinned vicious. BOOM. One of the seeds went up like a black bonfire, and the monster screamed as one of its arms was fully consumed in the flame.

Of course, my smile went the way of the dodo when I realized that my power level with necromancy had dropped. While practicing the black burn didn't do much, USING it apparently consumed some of my store of converted energy.

That wasn't exactly crazy, considering the way I had to convert demonic energy to necromancy to start with, but it wasn't ideal either. Ignoring the fact that this would seriously cut into my necromantic power, I pushed on. The wraith had veered away, howling, and flown right into another of my seeds. I detonated it, and the thing screamed as part of its torso was eaten away.

"Fuck you, you ugly bastard." I snarled. I dove forward, lashing out with a physical attack. It would do nothing, but after experiencing me ripping holes in its soul, I was officially scary to this fucker, and it shied away…right into the third seed. I poured even more into the burn this time, not willing to be stingy and fuck things up.

It screamed as its damaged form was totally immolated by my final attack, consumed in an agonizing cascade of pitch black flame. Right, Bermuda had mentioned something about eternal agony. Guess the eternal thing only counts if you have a body.

Once it was done, I doubled over, clutching my knees. I checked my power reserves and grimaced. Half. That had consumed HALF my fucking necromantic power. That was going to take fucking months to recover. More importantly though, it had cleansed the locket. My instincts said it was clean, and as I picked it up and brought it over to Val, she confirmed that fact.

"It's done." I said in relief. "I'm going to need to recharge before I take on the next one, but we only have one more anyway. We can search for the others while I regain my power. I owe Solomon a ton. If he hadn't taught me the seed strategem, that would have consumed ALL my necromancy and I'd have had to start over."

Val grimaced. "Well, I guess you know what you're doing the next few months. We can do the ring after you finish at Beauxbatons. That should be enough right?"

I just laughed. "Yup. But I'm going to have to do some more contracts, maybe go out and find more of the thirteen ghosts." That was a problem for another time though, for now I had a new treasure to stash in my vault (the locket was goblin silver, and probably stupid valuable). I thanked Val and headed up stairs to sleep after dropping the locket through a circle into a box at the bottom of my closet back at the manor.

Things were starting to look up. I had a way to destroy the horcruxes easily, and I didn't even have to destroy the objects that housed them. If they were all as historical and fancy as the locket that would end up being a good thing.

At the moment, I was just exhausted. Whatever the next few months would bring, I'd handle it when it came up. Now I was just going the fuck to sleep. After all my work, I'd earned a nice rest. I hoped I'd dream of burning wraiths.

As usual pat-reon has the advance chapters at that site /malcolmtent hope everyone enjoys.