At that exact moment, Lyra finally arrived, her expression irritated yet resigned as she begrudgingly set the drinks on a small table in front of us. "Here are your drinks, Mesdemoiselles," she said tersely, narrowing her eyes slightly at the two French witches.
Fleur and Gabrielle stared blankly at the devil maid, clearly unimpressed by her timing.
Fleur arched an eyebrow, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "It took you over an hour to make these simple cocktails? Truly impressive efficiency."
"I'd strongly suggest improving your bartending skills," Gabrielle added teasingly, sipping delicately from her perfectly garnished Blue Lagoon, her eyes dancing mischievously over the rim of the glass. "After all, Harry deserves the very best service, and clearly you and your sister aren't it..."
Lyra growled softly under her breath.
"Thank you, Lyra," I interjected calmly, giving her a teasing smile of my own. "I appreciate your efforts."
The devil maid huffed softly, spinning abruptly to return to her sister so they could clean up.
Fleur's parents both rose gracefully from their seats, signaling their intention to leave. Jean stretched slightly. "It was an enjoyable match," Jean said politely, his voice gruff but amicable. He cast a discreet glance toward the exit. "Unfortunately, work beckons early tomorrow morning back in France. Will you two be returning with us?"
Fleur exchanged a quick, meaningful glance with Gabrielle before turning her attention back to her father.
"Not quite yet, Papa," Fleur said with calm confidence. She reached out to gently link her fingers through mine, giving my hand a possessive squeeze. "Gabrielle and I intend to stay longer, perhaps enjoy a few more festivities with Harry."
Jean paused, clearly processing this new information. His sharp gaze shifted towards me, brows creasing faintly as he studied me in a silent moment of fatherly contemplation.
I gave him a small, wry smile, doing my utmost to project sincerity and confidence without appearing cocky or dismissive. He seemed to silently assess the depth of my intentions, likely weighing his paternal protectiveness against the reality that both his daughters were now grown women, entirely capable of making their own decisions.
Or maybe he was trying to convince himself they weren't both obviously going to be having sex with me later...
"Do be certain to have a delightful evening with my lovely daughters, Harry," Apolline whispered as she gave me a discreet, sultry wink.
Jean immediately cleared his throat sharply, shooting his wife an incredulous, vaguely exasperated look. Apolline merely laughed softly in response, stepping gracefully toward her husband and sliding her arm provocatively around his waist. "Come, my husband. We have our own lovely evening to ourselves."
Her husband perked up at those words. "We'll trust you girls to behave yourselves then..." he trailed off and quickly moved his wife to leave.
"Of course, Papa," Gabrielle replied sweetly. With an innocent expression in place that entirely was the opposite of her actions throughout the evening thus far.
Once the Delacours had vanished through the private box's door, I turned toward my devil maids. "And what exactly are you two planning to do now?"
Lyra smirked slightly, opening her mouth, but Lyna answered shamelessly before her sister had the chance. "Why, we'll follow you, of course, Young Master. Our place is by your side, after all."
I let out a resigned sigh, shaking my head slightly at the stubborn twins. "Fine, you can follow-but from a distance, understood? Tonight is still my time with Fleur and Gabrielle."
The maids exchanged petulant, disappointed glances, their lips pursed into matching, exaggerated pouts.
I gave them a firm stare, unyielding in my resolve.
After a moment's hesitation, both finally sighed dramatically in begrudging acceptance.
"As you wish, Young Master," Lyra muttered.
I turned my attention fully back to Fleur and Gabrielle.
"Shall we continue our evening then, Harry?" Fleur purred softly, leaning in just enough that I felt the gentle warmth of her breath caress my neck
Gabrielle matched her sister's sensuality. "Yes, Harry-there's still plenty more fun to be had. The night is young, after all."
I chuckled softly, allowing myself to be led out of the box, the twins trailing reluctantly behind at a discreet yet watchful distance.
The night ahead promised to be memorable indeed...
...
Maybe not memorable in the way I'd been expecting.
"What the hell...?" I muttered, staring in disbelief at the crazy scene unfolding before me.
All around, witches and wizards scrambled in blind panic, their screams and shouts piercing through the smoky air. The encampment, previously alive with celebration and festivities, had devolved into utter pandemonium. Flames rose fiercely, swallowing dozens-no, hundreds-of tents, and spreading rapidly. Thick plumes of dark smoke billowed upward, obscuring the once-clear night sky, the acrid scent of burning fabric filling my lungs.
Instinctively, I expanded my senses, feeling a surge of powerful magic-violent magic-clashing nearby. Someone was fighting, casting dangerous spells indiscriminately. But as concerning as that was, the raging inferno consuming the camp clearly took precedence.
"Run for your lives!"
"Death Eaters are attacking!"
"We can't stop them!"
"Why isn't anyone doing anything?" I demanded incredulously, watching as wizards sprinted past the blazing tents without so much as attempting to douse the flames. "They literally have magic wands-how is fire even a problem?"
Maybe Dumbledore had been right, maybe magical people really were far more idiotic than I'd thought possible?
I drew the fake wand Hermione had provided me from my pocket, gripping it tightly. It was just a prop, but necessary to disguise the true source of my magic. I subtly channeled my innate demonic energy instead, casting a large amount of water, extinguishing the roaring flames burning the Delacours' luxurious tent.
Beside me, Fleur and Gabrielle stared in shock, their eyes wide with alarm as they took in the sight. Fleur grabbed my arm urgently, her voice strained and desperate. "Harry, we have important items still inside!"
"Quickly!" Gabrielle urged anxiously, already rushing toward the now-safe entrance. "We must get them before it catches fire again."
"Be careful," I warned sharply, feeling a tightening in my chest as they hurried inside. I resisted the urge to follow immediately, forcing myself to remain vigilant outside.
Before I could take another breath, Lyra and Lyna appeared swiftly at my side, their expressions uncharacteristically serious. To my astonishment, they brandished fake wands as well, discreetly mimicking my method by channeling controlled bursts of devil magic into powerful jets of water.
Together, we swiftly extinguished the closest fires, halting their relentless advance.
"Master," Lyra murmured urgently, eyes flickering anxiously toward me as she effortlessly quelled another blazing tent, "we could extinguish this whole area instantly if you command it. A display of high-class devil magic-"
"No," I interrupted firmly, my voice stern as my gaze fixed determinedly upon them. "Your safety comes first. We can't risk exposure-I won't risk exposing either of you. Just keep assisting discreetly, understood?" I told them.
Both women paused abruptly at my words, their eyes widening with astonishment before their cheeks flushed crimson simultaneously. They exchanged quick glances, soft, joyful smiles blossoming across their beautiful faces despite the chaos surrounding us.
"Aww, Master truly loves us!" they chorused delightedly, their earlier urgency momentarily forgotten as their eyes sparkled mischievously.
I groaned, cheeks heating despite myself. "I didn't say anything of the sort," I grumbled defensively, returning my attention to the chaotic scene before me.
Lyra giggled softly, clearly unconvinced. "Master is adorable when shy."
"Agreed," Lyna purred teasingly. "We'll celebrate your declaration of love later, Young Master-after we deal with this mess!"
I sighed heavily in defeat, deciding that ignoring their antics was likely the safest response.
As Fleur and Gabrielle finally emerged from their tent, clutching several elegant-looking bags and heirlooms protectively against their chests.
"Are you alright?" I asked urgently, quickly stepping toward them.
"Oui, Harry," Fleur replied breathlessly, her gaze filled with admiration as she looked me over. "Thanks to you."
Gabrielle offered me a radiant, grateful smile. "Our hero!"
I smiled at them before deciding on what we should do. "We need to leave now," I said. "This looks like some kind of magical terrorist attack-and it's definitely not our fight. Let the magical police handle it."
But then I glanced anxiously around the burning campsite, my chest tightening as I thought of Hermione and the Weasleys. I could only hope they'd managed to escape the madness safely. As we hurried past the tent I'd seen Hermione enter earlier with her other friends, my heart skipped a beat when I found it empty. I took it as a hopeful sign-Hermione was smart, after all. She'd have gotten away.
I asked Fleur and Gabrielle if they could apparate us.
"We can't apparate yet, Harry," Fleur said, her eyes darkening with worry. "The wards-"
Gabrielle grimaced, finishing her sister's thought. "They were set up originally to keep drunk wizards from accidentally splinching themselves. Now they're keeping us trapped in here."
The wards could only reach so far.
"Then we should head for the woods," I told the girls firmly, gesturing toward the distant treeline. "We can teleport away from there."
We pressed onward through the panicked crowds, dodging frantic witches and wizards fleeing the destruction. Eventually, we reached the outskirts of the encampment, the treeline finally coming into view.
I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking we'd made it clear-until an abrupt, malevolent pulse of magic prickled at the edge of my senses, jolting me into action.
"Crucio!" a vicious, hate-filled voice roared from behind us.
Instinct surged through me. I grabbed Fleur and Gabrielle around their waists and threw us sideways, tumbling roughly into the dirt as a beam of sickly yellow energy blazed through the spot we'd occupied just seconds ago. The spell struck a nearby tree with a deafening blast, obliterating the thick trunk into a hail of flaming splinters.
"Harry!" Fleur gasped, clutching me tightly, her blue eyes wide with alarm. "That was an unforgivable! Did it hit you?"
"I'm fine," I assured her quickly, rising to a defensive crouch and immediately positioning myself protectively between the sisters and the threat.
Lyra and Lyna stepped forward, hissing in fury as several shadowy figures emerged from the smoke and flames, each face obscured beneath a grotesque, bone-white mask-these were Death Eaters.
My heart slammed hard against my ribs as rage sparked hot in my veins. While I didn't know all the details about the last magical war, these bastards had followed Voldemort. The dark wizard responsible for murdering Lily Evans, my human mother!
One of the masked men stepped forward with a cruel, delighted laugh, his voice dripping with twisted excitement. "Well, well-my eyes didn't deceive me after all, boys! I saw him running and thought it was him. It's Harry fucking Potter! We've actually found him!"
"Holy shit, it is him! I recognize him from the prophet!"
"Look at those sexy bitches with him! Let's kill him and take them for ourselves! It's been decades since we could let loose!"
Fleur pulled out her wand immediately, her eyes blazing with fury as she stepped protectively in front of Gabrielle. From our letters, I recalled she'd won numerous dueling tournaments already, clearly prepared to unleash her formidable magical skills on these bastards.
My devil maids, Lyra and Lyna, stood on either side of me, their usual playful demeanor completely replaced by cold, murderous anger. I could sense the raw power radiating from them, the restrained devil magic brimming dangerously beneath their tightly controlled expressions.
"Just give the word, Young Master," Lyra growled softly, her normally teasing voice dripping with lethal intent. "We'll torture and kill these worthless insects slowly and painfully for daring to threaten you."
Lyna nodded grimly beside her sister. "They'll pay dearly for disrespecting our beloved master."
I clenched the fake wand Hermione had given me, before calmly slipping it back into my pocket. It was useless to me now.
"No," I said firmly, my voice quiet but clear, echoing with barely contained rage.
The Death Eaters burst into mocking laughter, jeering openly at what they mistook for cowardice.
"Did he just say no?"
"Ha! Would you look at that! Harry fucking Potter turns out to be nothing but a scared little pussy!" one shouted gleefully.
Another laughed cruelly. "That's right, Potter-accept your pathetic death. And don't you worry, we'll take extra special care of your little sluts here. They'll be begging for mercy by the time we're done with them!"
My blood boiled violently at their disgusting threats, fury igniting white-hot within my chest. I turned slowly to Fleur and Gabrielle. Both sisters looked frightened yet determined, Fleur gripping her wand with practiced strength, ready to fight and protect her sister to the last breath. Gabrielle stood bravely, though I could see her hands trembling.
"Please don't think less of me," I murmured softly, regret tinging my words as I looked sincerely into their stunned, questioning eyes. "I'm sorry for keeping this from you both... I was going to tell you both tonight. "
Before they could question me further, a sharp, euphoric rush surged through my veins as two devil wings burst forth from my back, unfurling with a sharp snap.
I heard Fleur and Gabrielle gasp sharply, their expressions a mixture of shock, confusion, and awe.
I allowed my rage to flow freely, letting it radiate off me in waves. The normally invisible blue magic circle tattoos on the backs of my hands ignited brilliantly, casting an eerie glow around us.
The Death Eaters recoiled instinctively, their bravado faltering momentarily as they stared dumbfounded at my demonic wings.
"What the fuck are those?!" one cried out in alarm.
"Is he even fucking human?" another shouted, voice shaking slightly.
"Some kind of filthy half-breed freak! Kill him now!" a third barked frantically, trying desperately to mask his fear with aggression.
