Finally back in Ron's dormitory, Peter leapt onto the bed, curling into a tight ball. His whiskers twitched irritably as he lay panting on Ron's messy blankets.
Stupid, worthless Ronald Weasley!
The boy had managed to poison himself. Peter still couldn't wrap his tiny rat brain around that one. He'd carefully procured lethal poison, something that was supposed to kill that bastard Harry Sitri once and for all.
Instead, Ron drank it himself.
How in the world does someone poison themselves? Peter thought bitterly. The goblets were labeled by the house elves! It was supposed to be a simple assasination!
Peter bristled, his fur standing on end. His beady black eyes glowed with anger as he thought about the botched plan. He'd been careful. He'd given Ron crystal-clear instructions. They'd even managed to steal Jasmine McKinnon's invisibility cloak.
A perfect tool. Peter knew exactly how effective it was. He'd spent years sneaking through Hogwarts under James' cloak, after all.
But Ron had still managed to ruin everything.
Peter dug his tiny claws into the blanket, tearing at the fabric in frustration. Ron was now out of the school-maybe at St. Mungo's, maybe dead. He didn't really care what happened to that idiot. Ron was just a puppet, and puppets could always be replaced.
He knew why all this was happening!
Harry Sitri. And Sirius Black. The rumors whispered through Hogwarts confirmed what Peter had suspected from the start. Harry Sitri was clearly Sirius Black's son. Peter knew those two were working together, hunting him. Sirius wouldn't escape Azkaban after all these years without a reason, and Peter knew the reason was revenge.
Peter squeaked in bitter frustration, huddling lower into the blanket.
Well, he wouldn't be hunted down like an animal! Not by those two arrogant bastards. He'd get to them first. He had to find another puppet-another foolish student he could twist around his tiny paw and manipulate to do his bidding!
Just then, the dormitory door swung open. Peter's heart leapt in panic, but he held still, his beady eyes darting quickly toward the noise.
Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan stepped into the room, they were Ron's roommates after all.
"Hey, isn't that Ron's rat?" Dean asked, approaching the bed and peering down at Peter.
"Yeah, it is," Seamus agreed, wrinkling his nose slightly. "Poor ugly bugger. With Ron at St. Mungo's, who's gonna look after it?"
Dean sighed, reaching down gently to scratch Peter's head. "I guess I can. Seems like the right thing to do, even if Ron was a total prick lately. Almost made us hate Harry Sitri for nothing."
Peter relaxed under Dean's touch, giving a pathetic little squeak of gratitude. Internally, his thoughts churned faster. Yes. Perfect. A new puppet. Peter let out a small squeak, cuddling closer against Dean's robes. If he could smile as a rat, he'd have done it right then. Dean Thomas seemed just naive enough to become his new pawn.
The boys turned, carrying him out of the dormitory. Peter closed his tiny eyes contentedly. Yes, Ron had failed. But Peter would try again, and again, until he saw Sirius Black and Harry Sitri suffer!
— Nameless —
Nameless drifted in the dark, his tattered cloak dragging across the jagged stones of Azkaban. His body was not truly a body, but a husk of shadows stretched thin and cold. Still, he felt. He felt rage, hunger, and insult.
Foolish human mages.
They had forced him and his brethren back to this prison. Shackled them like chained beasts, as though they were servants instead of demonic predators. As though the proud kind that had once stalked the Underworld itself could ever be contained by mere wards and stone.
It burned within Nameless like a poison.
Only days ago, he had tasted freedom. The Ministry had opened the gates, bidding the Dementors to sweep across the countryside, "searching" for the escaped convict, Sirius Black.
The humans thought themselves clever, turning predators into hounds. But Nameless and his kin had known-Sirius Black's escape was no accident. They let him go.
The man was a shapeshifter. He could become a beast, hiding his true soul behind fur and bone. They had seen him transform in Azkaban's shadows and had said nothing. They had let him slip away.
Why? Because the longer Sirius Black ran free, the longer they could roam outside of Azkaban as well...
And while they roamed, they fed.
Souls. Sweet, tender, terrified human souls.
The magicals never noticed when a few muggles dropped dead spontaneously. Why would they? Muggles could not even see a Dementor. A scream, a collapse, and then silence — only a drained husk left behind, eyes glassy and lifeless. Nameless had taken three souls himself in that first week, and each soul had been glorious.
His brethren had feasted as well, spreading across the countryside like a plague of shadows. Hundreds of muggle souls had been devoured in the "search" for Sirius Black. It should have been thousands. It could have lasted longer. It should have lasted longer.
But then one of his brothers grew arrogant. The fool boarded the Hogwarts Express, stuffed with young mages — teenagers fat with innocence and magic. He thought he could gorge himself, he thought wrong.
That fool had been thoroughly punished by the rest of them. Chained below in the depths of Azkaban, it would not be escaping for the next 1000 years for ruining all of their spoils!
But at least the fool discovered one thing. Among those young mages had been something they all loathed. A devil!
The enemy of their kind since the dawn of their exile. It had been devils who had driven the Dementors out of the Underworld!
The Ministry, of course, had not understood. They saw only a Dementor attacking a train full of their own kind. They had recalled all of them to Azkaban. Now they were caged again. Hungry. Furious. Nameless drifted through the prison corridors, his brethren stirring restlessly in the shadows. Their whispers clawed at the air, each rasping breath thick with resentment.
"We should never have returned. The devil was so close!"
"We should have struck at him then. Together we would have overwhelmed him!"
"The devil soul must be devoured! Vengeance will be ours!"
Nameless agreed with them all. The hunger gnawed at him like knives. His kind were always hungry.
And yet, they were forbidden to leave again, even if they promised to only search for Black. The mages had their little school tournament, and they would not allow Dementors near it. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had demanded it. No Dementors anywhere near their precious students. Especially not after the train incident.
The Ministry had bowed like dogs, chaining Nameless and his brethren back to Azkaban once more. But the hunger did not fade. Already, some of his brothers whispered of leaving. Of abandoning Azkaban, drifting unseen across the night sky until they reached Hogwarts again.
The wards of the school were strong, but hunger was stronger.
Nameless knew they would go. And he would follow.
Because this was not over. The hatred between devils and demons was eternal.
— Harry —
I leaned back in my seat, still riding the high from earlier. Putting my name into the Goblet of Fire felt amazing. The challenging, playful stare my gorgeous Aunt Sona had given me afterwards only made things better.
I could already picture the excitement that would come with being chosen as champion.
Professor Lockhart's class dragged me from my daydreams. He clapped loudly to get our attention. "Alright everyone! Now, I understand the events last night at the feast were terrifying," Lockhart announced, sounding far too cheerful. "Ron Weasley's sudden poisoning scared even me. But never fear! I happen to have the perfect spell for just such an emergency!"
Beside me, Hermione instantly frowned. She leaned slightly closer, whispering, "Is he serious? There's no general-purpose poison cure spell! I've never heard of that!"
Jasmine McKinnon, sitting on my other side, snorted quietly in disbelief. "Does a spell like that even exist?" she muttered skeptically.
I shrugged slightly at both girls. Honestly, I wasn't sure. But even as a devil and getting taught for weeks by Sona, I'd never heard of such a convenient magic.
If devils didn't have their own version, odds were it didn't exist.
Lockhart continued confidently, holding up a small flask filled with a dubious-looking potion. "Now, who's brave enough to be my volunteer? Don't worry! This potion is nothing serious. Just a minor laxative-barely even poisonous!"
The classroom was immediately dead silent. No hands went up, of course. Lockhart looked momentarily annoyed but quickly masked it with another blinding smile.
"No one feeling brave? Tut-tut! Very well then, I'll just have to pick someone randomly." He grabbed a ridiculous-looking hat off his desk, theatrically reaching in to draw a name. Did he just have everyone's names in a hat ready to go?
I leaned towards Hermione and Jasmine, lowering my voice. "If he picks my name, I'm leaving."
"Same here," Jasmine whispered.
"Absolutely," Hermione agreed firmly.
I held my breath slightly as Lockhart finally pulled out a slip of parchment. He unfolded it slowly, savoring the drama before announcing loudly, "Draco Malfoy!"
Thank fuck!
Across the classroom, Draco slammed his fist onto his desk. "Fuck!" he hissed angrily, his cheeks flushing bright red. Next to him, Daphne and Tracy immediately started snickering. They clearly weren't sympathetic to Draco's plight.
Lockhart beckoned Draco forward with a reassuring smile. "Come now, Mr. Malfoy. No need for dramatics! You'll be perfectly fine, I promise you!"
With a resigned scowl, Draco shuffled to the front of the class. Lockhart thrust the flask toward him with a flourish. "Drink up, Draco! Remember-my spell will cure you immediately."
Hermione groaned quietly, shaking her head. "There is no way this ends well," she muttered.
"Draco is really stupid, and I am so fucking here for it!" Jasmine whispered with a smirk.
"Me too!" I added with my own grin. This couldn't be happening to a nicer asshole!
Draco stared into the flask uncertainly but then-unbelievably-he gulped down the entire contents in one go.
All right then, he really went for it...
At first, Draco stood perfectly still, looking relieved that nothing seemed wrong. But within seconds, his expression shifted dramatically. His eyes widened, and he clutched his stomach with both hands, letting out a strained groan. "Oh Merlin! It hurts!" Draco gasped desperately.
Lockhart immediately waved his wand, proudly reciting some nonsense words that definitely weren't a real spell. "Bowl-be-gone Maxima!" The only real Latin word he even said there was Maxima. How in the fuck was Lockhart in Ravenclaw when he was a student here?
...For a moment, nothing happened.
Lockhart smiled brightly anyway, clapping his hands. "And there you have it! You're cured, Draco!" he declared triumphantly.
A few students gave hesitant, awkward claps. But the applause quickly died as Draco doubled over, moaning loudly!
"You-you bloody fraud!" Draco gasped. He staggered slightly, turning alarmingly pale. "Your stupid spell didn't do anything!"
Lockhart chuckled nervously, patting Draco on the shoulder. "Come now, it just needs a moment-"
"No-it-doesn't!" Draco interrupted, clutching his stomach tighter. "I need the bloody bathroom-NOW!" And then his stomach gurgled loudly, followed by some very unsavory noises escaping from behind him!
He sprinted out the classroom door like his ass was on fire-which it might have been? Whatever was in that potion was not a minor laxative.
And of course everyone in the classroom collectively lost their fucking minds and started giggling, except for a handful of Draco sycophant slytherins. Nobody cared about them though as they all ran after him.
Lockhart stood frozen at the front, his forced smile looking slightly panicked now. He cleared his throat loudly. "Ah-well, class, that-that didn't quite go according to plan," he stammered awkwardly, adjusting his robes. "But let's just move on. I'm sure he'll be fine."
XXX
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chapter 15
Chapter 15 (~9600 words):
— Jasmine —
Jasmine McKinnon-Potter strolled down the worn path with Lavender on one side and Parvati on the other, her two best friends keeping close as the crisp autumn air swept through the grounds of Hogwarts. For once, the pair of them were not giggling about boys. More specifically, they were not talking about Harry. That in itself felt like a small miracle. For days, Harry Sitri had been the only subject they seemed to care about, every whispered conversation somehow circling back to him.
Today, thankfully, their chatter was different. Tonight was the big night, the moment everyone had been waiting for. The champions of the Triwizard Tournament were going to be chosen. The air around the castle felt charged with excitement, as if the walls themselves were buzzing with anticipation. Students from every house, as well as the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, were all restless.
Everyone wanted to see who would be picked.
Plenty of students had entered their names even though it was obvious how dangerous the tasks were going to be. The promise of glory and recognition outweighed the risks for many. Jasmine thought it was kind of ridiculous, but she could not deny that Dumbledore had been clever when he reassured everyone that there would be extra events throughout the year. Competitions and challenges for the students who were not chosen as champions. It made the whole thing feel less exclusive and kept spirits high.
The three girls had wandered further than they realized, their easy conversation carrying them away from the main crowds. Before long, Jasmine noticed the old, crooked silhouette of the Shrieking Shack in the distance. The place looked gloomy and abandoned, like it always did, but it was oddly peaceful standing out there away from the buzz of the castle. They slowed down and eventually stopped near the fence, leaning against the worn posts as they continued talking.
Parvati was the first to speak. "So, who do you two think is going to get picked?" She tilted her head.
Lavender crossed her arms and looked thoughtful. "I don't know who the second champion will be, but the obvious first choice from Hogwarts is going to be Harry. He literally blocked an Unforgivable Curse that day in the alley. We all saw it. That was supposed to be impossible..."
Damn, they almost made it a full hour without Lavender saying his name. At least it was about his feats instead of Lavender just thirsting over his looks.
