Lilja vaulted off its corpse, landing nimbly on her feet, her beautiful gaze immediately snapping to me, widening in horror!
I didn't look that bad, did I?
"Harry!" Her panicked cry ripped through my fading awareness. She sprinted toward me, discarding her bloody sword with reckless abandon. Her strong, blood-slicked hands grasped my face, searching my gaze frantically, desperate and terrified. "Harry, stay with me! Don't you dare fucking fade now-stay awake!"
I wanted to reassure her, wanted to smirk cockily and insist I was fine. But my body had other plans. The adrenaline fled abruptly, leaving only numb exhaustion, a bone-deep weariness heavier than stone. The venom's cold paralysis seeped further through my muscles, darkness crawling in at the edges of my vision.
"Lil..." My voice came out weak, broken. I could barely see her, barely feel her desperate grip as I fell forward. My head slumped against her shoulder, breathing shallow and labored. "I... got him..."
"Yes, Harry, you did it," she whispered urgently, wrapping her trembling arms fiercely around my shaking body, holding me tightly against her chest. Her heartbeat thundered frantically beneath her armor. "Just hold on, okay? We'll get you healed. Don't you fucking dare leave me now, not after all this!"
I tried desperately to reply, but my throat was dry, my tongue heavy. The blackness creeping in at the corners of my mind grew stronger, tendrils of oblivion beckoning seductively. Exhaustion dragged at me relentlessly, pulling me under as I sagged further into her arms.
Lilja's voice grew faint, distant. I felt her strong hands frantically pressing against my wound, heard her urgent commands in frantic Old Norse and frantic English-words mingling in a desperate blur.
"Stay awake, damn you!" Her voice cracked, raw with fury and grief. "Look at me, Harry Sitri! Do you fucking hear me?!"
But her frantic pleas faded away, becoming muffled whispers as darkness overtook my consciousness completely...
SPLASH!!!
"....FUCK ME!" I shot up suddenly! I was soaking wet from head to toe as I looked around the chamber.
What the hell did I miss...?
Dumbledore's phoenix-Fawkes-was trilling in what sounded like laughter as I glanced over at it, then turned my head to Lilja and Jasmine.
Jasmine was pointing her wand at me, it was obvious she just hit me with an Aguamenti.
"Was that really necessary?" I said flatly, still dripping and half-dazed, blinking cold water out of my eyes.
Jasmine at least had the grace to look sheepish, pink creeping up under the cracks of her battered glasses as she twisted her wand nervously between her fingers.
"Sorry!" she blurted. "I just-I had to wake you up and make sure you were okay. You looked half-dead." Her blush deepened, bottom lip caught between her teeth, and I suddenly realized just how tightly she was clutching her wand-knuckles white, hands trembling faintly, raw worry etched across every line of her face. She tried to play it off with a shaky smile, but her voice cracked at the end.
I managed a weak, lopsided grin, chest still heaving as my body fought off the last sluggish tendrils of paralysis. "You could've just tried shaking me," I rasped, but my voice was gentler now, teasing, and for a moment-just a moment-the tension melted from Jasmine's shoulders.
She let out a nervous laugh, rubbing her arm. Before I could say anything else, a blur of silver and blood crashed into my lap.
Lilja was there. She was literally climbing into my lap, armored thighs straddling mine, her weight pressing me down against the cold, ruined stones of the Chamber. Her arms were around my shoulders in a heartbeat, and her chestplate-slicked with basilisk blood and dust-pushed up against my chest so hard I could feel her heartbeat drumming through the steel.
She was shaking. "Harry, fuck-" she breathed, voice hoarse and wild with relief, green eyes glassy and shining with unshed tears. "I thought-shit-I thought I'd lost you. Don't ever do that again, do you hear me?" Her words tumbled out in a rush, her accent thicker than usual, edged with raw panic and fierce possessiveness.
I tried to lift a hand to reassure her, but she caught it in both of hers, trapping my palm against the slick metal of her armor. Then she just-collapsed into me, every inch of her body melting against mine, her lips suddenly finding mine with desperate, almost feral urgency.
She kissed me like a starving woman, her mouth hot and hungry on mine, breath ragged and uneven as she practically devoured me. The taste of her-sweat, blood, metal, and something wild-set my battered nerves on fire!
She was all over me-one hand cradling the back of my skull, the other tangling in my ruined shirt, her hips grinding down unconsciously into my lap, armored thighs caging me in place. Her tears-real, salty tears-spilled down her cheeks, smearing into the blood splatter on my skin as she gasped out broken, furious kisses.
I kissed her back just as hard, sinking both hands into her crimson hair, fingers curling tight.
Fuck, I couldn't get enough of her!
The chamber-the death, the venom, the shattered monster a few feet away-none of it mattered. All that mattered was the feel of her pressed against me, hot and alive, more beautiful than any war goddess, and the shudder in her body when my tongue slid across hers, tasting her desperation and her relief and her wild, protective love.
Behind us, Jasmine let out a scandalized, jealous little squeak. I barely heard it at first, too lost in the heat of Lilja's mouth, but when Lilja finally broke away for breath-her face inches from mine, cheeks flushed, tears shining in those incredible green eyes. I glanced sideways just in time to see Jasmine stamp her foot in adorable, exasperated outrage.
"Hey!" she yelped, clutching her wand to her chest and scowling at us, cheeks blazing with embarrassment. "Excuse me! I was the damsel in distress that just got rescued! I'm supposed to be the one giving the hero a kiss, not watching the Valkyrie ride him like a war prize!"
The words tumbled out of her in a flustered rush, as if she hadn't meant to say half of it, and as soon as she realized what she'd blurted her whole face went bright red-down her neck, across her ears, even to the trembling hand still white-knuckled around her wand. She stared at me, mortified, lips parted in a tiny O, as if desperately wishing the floor would swallow her up.
Lilja, still in my lap, grinned fiercely, her lips glistening, breath ragged. "You want a kiss, Jasmine?" she shot back. "Come and claim your reward, then..."
Jasmine looked like she wanted to melt through the flagstones, but she still squared her shoulders and met my gaze, her eyes behind those battered glasses shining with an unspoken, desperate need for comfort. She hesitated, then, with all the Gryffindor courage she could muster, took a shaky step forward.
"Just-let me, okay?" she whispered, voice small but determined. "I-I need to know you're real. That you made it. That this isn't just another nightmare."
The vulnerability in her eyes hit me like a hammer. I held out my free hand, palm open and inviting, and she sank down beside me, still shaking, her wand dropping to the floor with a dull clatter. She hesitated for just a heartbeat, eyes flickering between me and Lilja, then leaned in, pressing her lips to mine in a soft, hesitant kiss that trembled with exhaustion, relief, and raw, grateful affection.
It was nothing like Lilja's kiss-no wild hunger, no possessive fire-just a sweet, quivering connection, Jasmine pouring all her terror and gratitude and budding affection into her own kiss. Her lips were warm and gentle, lingering against mine as she shuddered, her hands coming up to cup my face, her body pressing close in a desperate, grateful embrace.
I held her gently, one hand cradling her cheek, the other still gripping Lilja's hip. I could feel her heart hammering in her chest, the last echoes of fear still shaking through her small, curvy frame.
When she finally pulled away, breathless and a little unsteady, I met her gaze and gave her a crooked smile.
"Hey," I murmured softly, my thumb tracing a slow line along her jaw. "You're safe. I've got you. Both of you."
Lilja, still straddling me, leaned in and pressed a fierce kiss to my cheek, her tears finally slowing. "You stupid, reckless man," she whispered, her accent rough and guttural now, laced with raw emotion. "Voldemort's venom was far more dangerous than he was bragging! Your heart almost stopped beating and you nearly died-if Fawkes didn't show up at the last minute and heal you with his tears!"
I blinked at her, and then turned my head to the bird that was preening proudly at my look. I gave the phoenix a large grin. "Thanks for saving my life Fawkes, I'm not really sure what kind of reward I can get for a bird, but I'll think of something."
It nodded and chirped happily before disappearing in a flash of fire.
...It was well past midnight by the time we dragged ourselves out of the dungeons.
I barely had time to savor the relief of solid ground before Dumbledore cornered me in the corridor. He ushered the girls off with Madame Pomfrey and then dragged me into his office.
I owed the old man the full story, especially since his bloody bird had just yanked me back from the edge of death.
So I gave him the blow-by-blow. The stray-devil mutant Voldemort, the new basilisk, the showdown in the Chamber and Jasmine's rescue.
I didn't miss the way his knuckles whiten on the edge of his chair when I described that this Voldemort was some kind of "backup body..."
But in the end, Dumbledore reached over and gripped my shoulder, his twinkling eyes shining with a mix of pride and exhaustion. "You have rendered Hogwarts a service beyond measure, Harry," he said, voice softer than I'd ever heard. "Thank you. And now-" a ghost of a twinkle appeared, "-I suspect there are a dozen or so young women in this castle who would very much like to know you're still alive and in one piece. Off with you. I'll handle the rest for tonight."
I snorted. "Yeah, I'm not looking forward to the 'in one piece' part. I think they're all going to kill me for scaring the hell out of them."
He just chuckled, waving me out of his office.
By the time I reached Narcissa's private suite, my nerves were jangling with anticipation and dread in equal measure. I opened the door that was only keyed to the members of our peerage and stepped inside.
They were scattered around the room, all my lovely girls. Lyra and lyna, Tonks and Narcissa, Fleur and Gabrielle, and Hermione. I also noticed that Lilja was sitting in the room as well on the edge of the bed. Judging by the glares I was getting from all my girls, she probably told them everything that happened down there, including the reckless shit...
Uh oh...
Hermione was the first to speak. "Harry Sitri..."
That was the tone she used only when she was really upset with something.
Merlin's balls, I was dead.
I tried for a sheepish grin, raising both hands in mock surrender. "Before anyone yells-can I at least take my shoes off? I've just had a really, really long day..."
...My peerage members did forgive me, eventually-but only after every single one took their turn with a fierce, individualized scolding that made me feel like a schoolboy caught cheating, not the half-devil prince who'd just killed Voldemort a second time.
I sat there on Narcissa's massive, plush bed, humbled and silent, accepting each rebuke with a sheepish smile. Narcissa fussed over my wounds and muttered darkly about "reckless young gryffindors and their absurdly brave heroics," while Hermione poked my chest furiously, eyes blazing with a mixture of terror and relief, lecturing me sternly.
Tonks, went the sarcastic route, teasing mercilessly about my newfound habit of collecting scars-but beneath her joking, her eyes glistened suspiciously damp, and her slender fingers lingered longer than necessary on my bare skin, brushing gently against fading bruises.
Gabrielle and Fleur both took turns scolding me in passionate French tirades, gestures vivid and theatrical-though both ended their lectures by wrapping their warm, soft bodies around mine, peppering my cheeks and neck with lingering, heated kisses until I had to coax them apart again.
Lyra and Lyna scowled fiercely. "Idiot Master, always making us worry!"Lyra said while Lyna held me close, her trembling lips pressed tight against my chest.
And then there was Lilja herself, sitting quietly near the edge of the bed, clad now in only a simple linen shift that barely covered her thighs, watching each of my peerage members vent their fear and frustration onto me with a soft, thoughtful expression. She seemed almost guilty, as if somehow she'd personally failed in protecting me.
Once everyone else finished lecturing and examining me and finally allowed me to breathe, she slid forward gracefully onto the mattress and took my face gently between her hands.
Her emerald eyes searched mine deeply, face etched with exhaustion and lingering worry. "You scared me, Harry Sitri," she whispered hoarsely, her voice thick with raw emotion. She leaned in close, lips brushing my ear, her breath hot and shaky against my skin. "I would tear this entire castle apart with my bare hands rather than lose you."
The sincerity in her voice stole my breath. Before I could respond properly, Lilja pressed her forehead tenderly to mine, eyes closing as she took a long, slow, steadying breath, savoring the contact. Then she pulled away just enough to fix me with a fierce stare, voice hardened into something firm and commanding. "Promise me, Harry, no more reckless heroics-not without me fighting at your side."
I smiled softly, nodding. "You've got my word."
She exhaled sharply, relieved tension slipping from her frame as she leaned into me again, capturing my lips in a fierce, possessive kiss that drew approving noises from the other girls and brought a blush of amused embarrassment to Hermione's face.
By the time it was over, I'd been kissed, bitten, smacked, and stroked by every one of them, until the whole lecture devolved into a tangle of limbs and bodies sprawled across Narcissa's absurdly huge bed, exhaustion and adrenaline and relief swirling together until even Hermione gave up and let herself melt into the tangle.
I lay there for a long while, staring at the ceiling, listening to the soft breathing and tangled whispers around me. Personally, I hadn't meant for the fight to get that close.
I'd known Voldemort would be an evil monster, but that level of power? It was insane! How many souls had he devoured to leapfrog to high-class like that? Some part of me, deep down, felt a twisted respect. Even as a corrupted bastard, he'd been terrifying.
