I smiled at their affectionate exchange, and my gaze shifted back toward Sona. Her normally calm, cool expression had softened noticeably, clearly reflecting on something similar.
"Yes," Sona quietly agreed, her voice gentle with genuine warmth as her own eyes drifted thoughtfully toward Tsubaki across the Great Hall. "It was precisely the same with Tsubaki. There wasn't any hesitation or doubt. It just...clicked." Her gaze refocused sharply on me, the softness replaced once again by her usual stern, analytical expression. "Still, Harry-this decision isn't something to take lightly. Your Queen isn't just another peerage member. She's the most crucial, powerful piece in your entire set. You should really take time to evaluate carefully before committing to anything this major."
"I know, Sona," I replied seriously, letting her feel my sincerity clearly. "Believe me, I'm taking this seriously. It might sound impulsive, but my instincts have guided me perfectly so far. They tell me that Lilja is someone special-and I trust that feeling."
Sona sighed, though I saw her expression slowly shifting into one of reluctant acceptance.
"Well," Rias suddenly chimed in, clearly sensing the continued tension, "as Harry's future wives, perhaps it's our duty to make sure he chooses the proper Queen, then. Wouldn't you agree, Sona?"
Sona visibly perked up at that idea, her expression becoming more intrigued and calculating.
Honestly, seeing those two clever, beautiful women plotting together simultaneously reassured and worried me. It reassured me because I knew they'd always have my best interests in mind, but it worried me because whenever those two teamed up, it usually spelled trouble.
"Oh?" Sona mused, thoughtfully tapping one slender finger against her chin as she mirrored Rias's playful smirk. "That's actually an excellent point, Rias. It certainly wouldn't hurt to have some additional assurances regarding Lilja's true intentions-especially given that she's been hiding a pretty major secret since she infiltrated our school."
I watched as Rias tilted her head slightly toward the far side of the hall, clearly directing our attention to the Slytherin table. There, seated quietly amidst the bustling crowd of students, Lilja Nornas was calmly eating her dinner, appearing completely unaware of our careful observation.
"You know, Sona," Rias suggested thoughtfully, a slow, confident grin spreading across her lips, "perhaps you and I should personally speak with Lilja ourselves-privately, of course. I'm sure we can learn quite a bit about her real intentions directly from the Valkyrie's mouth. Consider it a friendly interrogation."
Sona adjusted her glasses thoughtfully, nodding slowly in agreement. "Yes, I completely agree, Rias. If Lilja Nornas truly has been spying on Harry-and by extension, on us-then we absolutely need to find out why. She's clearly here on someone's orders. I doubt she'd infiltrate Hogwarts purely by coincidence, after all."
Akeno laughed softly from beside Rias, covering her lips demurely with one hand as she glanced pointedly toward me, her eyes dancing mischievously. "Ara ara, Harry. It looks like your future wives have already made their decision. Seems you'll just have to wait patiently while WE thoroughly vet your newest interest."
I sighed theatrically, leaning back slightly with an exaggerated pout as I glanced at the three gorgeous women surrounding me. "You all are going to scare her off before I even get a chance to properly recruit her," I complained jokingly. "And don't think I missed the "we" you slipped in there, Akeno..."
Akeno puffed her cheeks at me.
Rias immediately reached out, lightly caressing my cheek with her slender fingers, and gave me a reassuring smile. "Oh, come now, Harry. Don't worry so much. We're simply protecting our future husband. If Lilja truly is worthy of becoming your Queen, then she'll easily survive our questioning without issue."
Sona nodded in firm agreement, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. "Exactly, Harry. Think of it as a friendly initiation. Any woman deserving to be your Queen must be able to handle some pointed questioning from her future King's closest partners."
I nodded thoughtfully at Sona's remark, mulling over the unsettling implications. After a quiet pause, I shifted my gaze toward her, deciding it was probably best to switch to a topic that had been weighing on me since Serafall fled our bed.
"By the way, Sona," I began, leaning slightly closer so that our conversation would stay relatively private amidst the noise of dinner chatter echoing through the Great Hall. "Have you heard anything new from your sister about her investigation into Katerea Leviathan?"
At my question, Sona immediately straightened her posture slightly, her pink eyes flickering behind her thin, stylish glasses. A small sigh escaped her lips, betraying a hint of frustration. She reached up, pressing her index finger lightly against the bridge of her glasses as she often did when organizing her thoughts. "To be completely honest, Harry," Sona finally replied, her voice noticeably more serious and quietly cautious now, "I've only received a vague update from Onee-sama regarding Katerea. It appears that once Katerea realized Serafall was directly involved in pursuing her, she immediately fled her mansion, abandoning the small territory she'd been occupying entirely. My sister's team found her estate completely deserted, with clear signs she'd evacuated swiftly. So far, there hasn't been any solid indication of her current whereabouts. But I doubt she'd be foolish enough to come to Hogwarts again."
"That's frustrating," I muttered under my breath. "Honestly, after the Devil Civil War ended and our side emerged victorious, I'm genuinely shocked that devils from those original Satan bloodlines were even permitted to remain alive at all-let alone retain territories and estates."
From beside me, I heard Rias snort quietly, her voice dripping with irritation. "It's all political nonsense, Harry," Rias explained bitterly, shaking her head sharply in disgust. "There's still stubborn old devils in high-ranking government positions. They don't want to risk the extinction of any of the original Satan bloodlines, even though all those descendants are useless and didn't even inherit their clan traits."
— Hermione —
Hermione watched Tonks out of the corner of her eye with gentle amusement as the older witch fidgeted slightly on the bench beside her. It was clear from the furtive glances Tonks kept shooting towards Harry's table that the "cold shoulder" they'd collectively agreed to give him wasn't something she particularly enjoyed.
But seeing him squirm uncomfortably now and then had certainly become a bit of playful entertainment.
Tonks was technically an assistant professor, a role that unfortunately didn't come with the perk of sitting at the staff table in the Great Hall. Narcissa, being a fully-fledged professor, sat confidently up there with the others, looking calm, graceful, and utterly composed as always. Tonks, on the other hand, was relegated to joining Hermione and Harry at the student tables. Except he wasn't with them tonight.
Tonks blew out a sigh and rested her chin grumpily on her palm, propping her elbow on the table. Her eyes flicked again toward Harry, who was now engaged in a clearly animated conversation with Rias, Sona, and even Akeno.
Hermione smiled sympathetically. She reached over, gently patting Tonks' shoulder. "Honestly, how long exactly are we supposed to keep pretending to be angry at him again?" she asked quietly, her voice light and teasing.
Tonks blinked in mild surprise before chuckling softly, the corner of her lips turning up into a playful smirk. She leaned in closer, her voice dipping into a whisper. "Well, I was thinking-at least until he finally does to my tits what he eagerly did to the new girl's earlier today."
Hermione snorted softly, her eyebrows lifting in mock surprise as she gave Tonks a knowing smirk. "Oh, so it'll all be cleared up by the end of tonight then?" she teased gently. "Because, you know, it is entirely your own fault you insisted on taking things slow with Harry in the first place."
Tonks flushed immediately, her usually confident expression slipping momentarily as she coughed awkwardly, glancing down at the table. "Well-okay, yes," she admitted sheepishly, fiddling with her fork nervously. "I mean, I didn't expect him to move quite this quickly with anyone new. I figured I had plenty of time to, you know, ease into things at my own pace."
Hermione laughed lightly, affectionately bumping Tonks' shoulder with her own. "Honestly, Tonks, you've known Harry for a few weeks now. Surely by now you've learned that with him, things rarely happen at a leisurely pace.."
Tonks laughed softly in return, nudging Hermione playfully. "Speaking from experience?"
"Absolutely," Hermione replied without hesitation, giving Tonks a meaningful look. Then her smile widened, her eyes sparkling mischievously as she leaned even closer to whisper softly, "And you do know he's already slept with Ginny, right?"
Tonks immediately straightened, eyes widening dramatically in shock as her head snapped sharply toward Hermione. "Wait-what?! He's already slept with Ginny?"
From across the table, Ginny Weasley looked up sharply from her meal as she shamelessly eavesdropped. Ginny set down her fork deliberately and grinned openly at Tonks, leaning forward across the table with complete confidence. "Damn right he has," she announced boldly, her voice low enough not to attract the attention of others nearby but still clear enough for Tonks and Hermione to hear every word. "Quite thoroughly, I might add. More than once."
Hermione burst into soft laughter as Tonks stared at Ginny in astonishment. Beside Ginny, Lavender, Pravati, and Jasmine shot Ginny an openly jealous glare, clearly annoyed by Ginny's boastful claim and even more irritated at being openly reminded of it.
Ginny merely smirked triumphantly in return, entirely unfazed.
"Oh, don't look so shocked, Tonks," Ginny teased lightly, leaning back casually and twirling a lock of red hair around her finger with smug satisfaction. "Did you honestly think I'd waste any time once the chance presented itself? He's Harry Sitri, after all. You'd be crazy not to take advantage."
Hermione chuckled again, shaking her head gently at Ginny's brazen openness. She glanced back toward Tonks, who still looked mildly stunned as she absorbed this revelation.
Tonks finally huffed, puffing her cheeks out indignantly as she folded her arms defensively beneath her chest. "Well, now I feel like I'm falling behind," she muttered petulantly, though the playful gleam in her eyes betrayed her amusement. "Here I thought going slowly might make me seem mature and dignified or something." Tonks groaned dramatically, letting her head drop theatrically onto Hermione's shoulder with a loud sigh. "Oh Merlin, I'm so doomed, Hermione. At this rate, he'll get distracted by another half-dozen beautiful witches before I ever get my turn."
Hermione smiled softly, gently rubbing comforting circles on Tonks' back. She let her eyes flicker briefly toward Harry, catching his gaze momentarily from across the Great Hall.
He looked back at her pleadingly, clearly aware that he was being deliberately ignored as part of their little game. Hermione sent him an exaggerated pout, sticking out her bottom lip playfully before she turned pointedly back to Tonks.
"Well, Tonks, perhaps it's about time you remind our dear Harry exactly who holds the true power in his harem. After all, we lovely witches of his peerage are the ones ultimately calling the shots here. Maybe it's time he learned that lesson clearly and repeatedly."
Tonks lifted her head from Hermione's shoulder, her eyes brightening visibly as she slowly sat up straighter. A mischievous, playful grin slowly spread across her lips as her gaze shifted decisively toward Harry once again. She turned back to Hermione with newfound resolve, raising her eyebrows determinedly. "You're absolutely right, Hermione. And I should make it up to him for how my mother treated him earlier. Oh! I know what I'll do, what if I transform into her appearance and let him have his way with me while we record it!?"
Hermione sweatdropped at those words. Uh oh, maybe she just unleashed a real freak in the bedroom...
Eh, Harry would probably appreciate it.
— Voldemort (Main Body) —
Everything was spiraling out of control!
Voldemort knew this with bitter certainty as he lay trapped in this pathetic, infantile form. Fate, once seemingly at his command, now mocked him ruthlessly from every direction.
First, Wormtail had scurried back to his side. This alone had hardly been a reassuring omen. Peter Pettigrew had his uses; he was cowardly but competent in certain tasks, particularly when it came to espionage. But the Dark Lord couldn't deny he felt disgusted every time Wormtail fussed nervously over his tiny, repulsive body. Still, he endured it, because competent servants were in desperately short supply at the moment.
No, Wormtail wasn't the real source of Voldemort's escalating fury and anxiety. The true crisis was far more troubling. Barty Crouch Jr.-one of his most loyal and devoted Death Eaters, his most dependable spy within Hogwarts-had vanished entirely, his communication abruptly cut off. Voldemort could only assume the worst. Dumbledore had undoubtedly discovered Barty's infiltration, captured him, and extracted everything he knew with contemptible ease.
"That incompetent fool!" Voldemort hissed venomously, his infantile lips twisting in fury. "Captured-exposed-and now Dumbledore knows far too much!"
In a state of rising paranoia, Voldemort had hastily abandoned his previous refuge-the old, crumbling Riddle Manor-in fear that his location had been compromised. He had commanded Lucius Malfoy, his once-proud servant now reduced to simpering obedience, to shelter him and Wormtail within the opulent yet gloomy confines of Malfoy Manor.
And Voldemort's instincts had proven accurate, though he bitterly wished they hadn't. Not one day after leaving Riddle Manor behind, a devil woman-a tall, voluptuous blonde whose appearance would've been absurdly attractive if she hadn't been radiating raw, terrifying power-had utterly destroyed the decrepit mansion!
The loss had been devastating.
Voldemort had left Nagini, his precious serpent companion, behind, hoping she would lead Barty back to him if he escaped Hogwarts. The snake had been no ordinary familiar-she was a horcrux, a critical vessel holding a fragment of his own soul, an essential safeguard against death itself. And with the annihilation of Nagini, Voldemort had felt a searing agony rip through his essence.
