HP x DxD: That's not Wizard Magic! By Starwaves.
Chapter 1:
— Harry —
"Wake up, Potter! It's your fucking birthday!" Dudley shouted, banging his heavy fist loudly on my old bedroom door.
My eyes snapped open, startled awake by Dudley's booming voice and relentless pounding. A tired groan escaped my lips as I rolled over, blinking the sleep from my eyes. Even at nineteen, Dudley's excitement for birthdays was off the charts.
It was weird being back here in my childhood bedroom-same old posters peeling at the corners, the faded carpet, the bed that was suddenly too small now. I'd moved out a year ago, the day I turned eighteen and finally tasted some real freedom. Still, family tradition and all, I was always back here for birthdays and holidays, letting Dudley and my aunt and uncle feel like we were still connected.
Dragging myself up, I kicked off the blankets, feeling a rush of chilly morning air against my bare skin. I rubbed my face, yawning deeply again as I got up and stretched, feeling my muscles loosen. I headed to the closet, pulling out a clean towel before stepping into the hall.
The bathroom door creaked as I pushed it open. I stripped down quickly, stepping into the shower and turning the water on hot. Steam filled the tiny space, fogging up the mirror, as I stood under the water, letting it run down my body.
After thoroughly scrubbing myself clean, washing away the sleepiness, I turned off the shower and wrapped the towel loosely around my hips. I swiped a hand across the foggy mirror, clearing a patch of reflective glass, and stared at myself closely.
The guy in the mirror looking back at me was pretty damn handsome, if I did say so myself. I had those piercing blue eyes that college girls always seemed to lose themselves in. My black hair hung straight and sleek down to my shoulders-girls liked running their fingers through it. Swimming had done wonders for my body, leaving me lean but muscular, broad shoulders tapering down to toned abs.
Damn, I looked good...
Feeling more awake, I headed back into the bedroom, pulling on a snug black t-shirt that hugged my chest and arms just right, and some worn blue jeans. Running a hand through my hair to shake off the excess moisture, I glanced at my reflection in the dresser mirror one more time, giving a satisfied smirk.
"Harry! Hurry the hell up, birthday boy!" Dudley called impatiently from downstairs, sounding hungry enough to tear into breakfast already.
"Yeah, yeah, chill out," I shouted back.
Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were already sitting around the kitchen table when I came downstairs. The smell of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee drifted toward me, waking me up even more.
"Happy birthday, Harry," Uncle Vernon said warmly, surprising me with a genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
"Thanks, Uncle Vernon," I replied, stepping forward to hug him. My uncle was still a large guy, broad-shouldered and built like a bear, but the hug he gave me back was gentle.
It was weird, when I was a kid, Vernon acted annoyed whenever I was around. Treating me-not great actually.
But then, sometime after I turned sixteen, things changed drastically. Suddenly, Uncle Vernon was treating me like family-like I was the nephew he wanted at long last. I never figured out why he didn't like me at first, though, but I never brought it up. Might as well keep the good thing going and all that.
Aunt Petunia stood near the stove, sliding another batch of pancakes onto a platter. She smiled when she saw me. "Sit, Harry. Eat while it's hot," she insisted, putting the pancakes on the table. "Go on, boys, dig in."
She didn't have to tell Dudley twice. He already had a forkful halfway to his mouth, syrup dripping onto his plate. I smirked, amused. Dudley was no longer the pudgy, round kid he had been back in secondary school. Ever since he'd discovered boxing, he'd gotten leaner, his arms strong and toned beneath his loose-fitting hoodie.
I sat down across from him and grabbed a stack of pancakes, pouring syrup over them generously.
"How does it feel being nineteen, man?" Dudley asked with his mouth half-full, grinning across at me.
"Pretty much like being eighteen," I shrugged, cutting a bite from my pancakes. "Just older and still clueless about adult life."
Dudley chuckled, swallowing before he spoke again. "Yeah, sounds about right."
I glanced at my cousin again and remembered how we'd both gotten into sports around the same time. While Dudley took to boxing, I found swimming. Something about the water called to me-not in some metaphorical sense, but literally.
I always felt connected to water... And I could literally breathe underwater, which was definitely not normal, but I'd always been smart enough to keep that a secret. It did give me a massive advantage in the swimming pool, though, enough to get a university scholarship, just like Dudley got one for boxing as well.
Petunia sat down next to Vernon, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She took a small sip, eyeing Dudley and me fondly. "So," she said brightly, "do my two boys have any special plans today?"
Dudley shrugged, glancing at me again. "Up to Harry. It's his big day."
I finished swallowing a bite of pancake before responding, leaning back casually in my chair. "Haven't thought much about it yet. But I'm sure Dudley can come up with something entertaining enough."
"Oh, you bet your ass I can," Dudley grinned wickedly.
"Language, Dudley!" Aunt Petunia snapped sharply, giving him a pointed look. Dudley just shrugged, unfazed as usual, stuffing another forkful of pancake into his mouth.
Beside her, Uncle Vernon chuckled deeply. "Alright, alright," Vernon said cheerfully, pulling something out of his pocket. "I've got something special for you two." He slid a pair of tickets across the table, looking pleased with himself.
Dudley practically lunged for them, his eyes widening in excitement as he saw what was printed. "Holy shit-football tickets? Seriously, Dad?"
Petunia cleared her throat, shooting Dudley another glare, but Vernon just laughed again. "Yeah, thought you boys might enjoy yourselves today."
I grinned, leaning forward to glance at the tickets Dudley held tightly. Football wasn't exactly my passion, but there was something undeniably exciting about being in a roaring crowd, the energy pulsing through the stands and the noise overwhelming my senses.
I was riding shotgun in Dudley's car, drumming my fingers on the passenger door as we weaved through the busy London streets toward the stadium. Dudley gripped the wheel tightly, his eyes practically shining with excitement. "England is going to kick ass today, Harry! I just fucking know it," Dudley announced confidently, glancing over at me with an enthusiastic grin.
I leaned back in my seat, smirking mischievously. "We'll see," I said, deciding right then to root loudly for the opposing team just to annoy him. It was a small pleasure, but the look on Dudley's face would definitely be worth it.
He shot me a sideways look, chuckling as he shook his head. Then, his expression suddenly shifted, and his grin turned sly. "Hey Harry, think you could work your magic later today? Like you used to do back in secondary school?"
My heart skipped a beat, and my fingers stopped drumming against the door. "My magic?" I echoed nervously, swallowing hard as my pulse quickened.
Did Dudley figure something out?
Before my thoughts spiraled too far, Dudley burst out laughing. "I'm talking about your magic with chicks, idiot! That stupidly handsome face of yours always drew the girls like crazy. Help a guy out, will you? Let's score some hot babes to celebrate after the game."
Relief washed over me instantly, and I chuckled weakly, feeling slightly embarrassed at my jumpy reaction. "Yeah, yeah, I'll see what I can do," I replied, relaxing back into the seat again.
He did not know... That was good.
My thoughts drifted back to my school days, triggered by Dudley's teasing comment. I felt warmth rising in my cheeks, remembering all the attention I used to get back then. Girls would literally chase after me in the hallways, blatant invitations and sliding their numbers into my locker.
I had a bit of a reputation back in school, and not without reason. Whatever it was that set me apart from normal people also made me ridiculously horny all the time. My urges had always been intense, way stronger than other guys my age. Recently, I've really tried to tone it all down, to get my impulses under control.
But honestly, I was failing spectacularly. At least I was trying-effort had to count for something, right?
Dudley's sudden whoop jolted me out of my thoughts as we pulled into the stadium parking lot. The place was packed-rows and rows of cars, flags waving in the breeze, loud music blasting, and excited fans shouting and laughing around grills and coolers.
"Hell yes! Now this is what I'm talking about," Dudley cheered enthusiastically, slamming the car into park.
I chuckled, feeling Dudley's excitement rubbing off on me. "Alright, let's go find some trouble," I joked, opening the passenger door and stepping out into the noisy, crowded lot.
...
Vernon definitely went all out on our tickets, because Dudley and I were sitting practically front-row, close enough that I could see the sweat dripping off the players' faces. I'd never been a huge football fan, but the wild energy buzzing through the stadium drew me in. Before long, I was on my feet, screaming and cheering along with Dudley and the rest of the crowd.
By the time the whistle blew for full-time, England lost by just one goal, but they played one hell of a match. The crowd wasn't even that upset...
I chuckled quietly, realizing there'd probably just be a small riot on the streets of London tonight instead of a full-scale disaster.
But football wasn't the only interesting thing going on today. Right next to Dudley and me, there were two gorgeous blonde girls who'd had my attention practically the whole time. Their looks would seriously make magazine cover models jealous.
One seemed a bit older, maybe early twenties, with silky blonde hair falling past her shoulders and bright blue eyes that kept sneaking curious glances at me. Her younger sister looked about my age, with equally stunning features-soft pink lips, flawless skin, and a confident little smirk every time our eyes met.
Dudley elbowed me sharply in the ribs as the crowd started filing out. He leaned close, whispering urgently into my ear, "Don't let me down, Potter. Those girls are hot as fuck. Go talk to them!"
"Alright, alright," I muttered, rolling my eyes but grinning anyway. I stood up, stretching casually as I turned toward the two girls.
"So," I said, smiling warmly, catching their attention instantly. "What'd you think about the game? Pretty intense, right?"
Both girls looked surprised for a second, then smiled back, their cheeks turning slightly pink.
The older one giggled softly as she leaned in a little closer. "Oui, it was fantastic," she said, her voice dripping with a thick French accent that's both sweet and sexy. "So much excitement. We almost won, non?"
"Very close," the younger one chimed in, leaning forward a bit as well, her accent just as alluring as her sister's. "You English boys are quite passionate fans."
Holy shit, those French accents were amazing...
I laughed softly, feeling a warm flush creep across my face. Dudley nudged me again, clearly thrilled by the attention we were getting.
"I'm Harry, by the way," I told them smoothly. "This is my cousin Dudley."
The beautiful French girls turned to us, their smiles bright and charming. The older one tilted her head slightly, brushing back her long, shimmering blonde hair, and introduced herself first. "I'm Fleur Delacour," she said confidently, her accent thick and appealing, "and this is my sister, Gabrielle."
Gabrielle gave us a sweet smile, her blue eyes meeting mine for a moment before she shyly looked away.
Dudley, clearly feeling bold, leaned forward slightly, giving them his most charming grin. "So tell me, what's a couple of French beauties like yourselves doing stuck here in dreary old England?"
Fleur laughed softly, the sound clear and musical, while Gabrielle giggled into her hand. Dudley looked pleased, obviously thinking he'd just nailed it.
"We're here for a school tournament," Fleur explained patiently. "Our private school sent us to compete. But that tournament doesn't actually start until October, about a month away."
Gabrielle nodded, her expression brightening a little more. "We're here early to settle in and practice."
Dudley grinned wider, glancing at me with his eyebrows wiggling dramatically. "Right on, then. So that means you've got plenty of time to check out the sights and meet new people."
Both girls rolled their eyes, playfully amused by his obvious attempt at flirting. It was clear to me-and probably to Dudley, judging by his deflated expression-that they were much more interested in talking to me than to my cousin. I almost felt bad for Dudley, but then again, being devilishly handsome came with its own set of perks and problems.
Smiling at Fleur and Gabrielle, I casually said, "Dudley and I were thinking of grabbing some food at a restaurant near the stadium. If we hurry, we can beat the rush. You two want to join?"
Fleur glanced at Gabrielle, their eyes exchanging a quick look before turning back to me.
"Oui," Fleur answered immediately, smiling warmly. "That sounds lovely."
Gabrielle's cheeks turned a slight shade of pink as she nodded in agreement. "Yes, we'd love to come."
Dudley turned to me, an excited, triumphant grin on his face. I shot him an amused look, already knowing exactly what he was thinking.
Dudley might be getting excited over nothing, I thought quietly, glancing back at Fleur and Gabrielle through the rear-view mirror. These girls were classy, nothing like the ones who used to throw themselves at me in school. They were obviously interested-otherwise, they wouldn't have agreed to come out to eat with us-but I doubted they were looking to jump straight into my bed. Or Dudley's. Though judging by how they were ignoring my cousin completely, he was probably out of luck anyway.
"So, 'Arry," Fleur spoke up, leaning slightly forward from the backseat, her beautiful accent filling the car with each word. "Tell us about yourself. How old are you?"
I glanced back at her, smiling. "I'm nineteen. Dudley and I are both at university. I got in on a swimming scholarship."
Gabrielle's eyes sparkled with curiosity. She leaned forward too, resting her arms casually on the back of my seat. "Swimming? Oui, I can tell. You definitely 'ave ze body of an athlete."
