Chapter 39
"Are you sure this is the place?" Akeno asked as she, Hermione, Luna, and Fleur walked and arrived just outside a particular pub in Athlone, Ireland.
"This is the address that was given in the letter," Hermione replied.
"Sean's Bar," Luna murmured. "No pretense at all. I like it."
"I did a little reading on the place, and apparently it's operated as a pub in one form or another since the tenth century," Hermione said, opening the door and letting them in.
"Really?" Luna asked.
"The oldest pub in the world, as far as we've been able to determine," a server said as she spotted them. "Would you like a table, or would you like to sit at the bar?"
"We're meeting with someone, actually," Fleur replied. "An older woman named Deirdre McAllen; she said that she comes here pretty regularly, and we could ask for her."
"Aye, we all know old Deirdre," the woman nodded. "I haven't seen her tonight yet, but I can show you to a table and make sure she's informed that you're here when she arrives."
"Thank you, that would be great," Hermione nodded, and the woman led them in, seating them near one of the windows.
A moment later another server approached, saying, "Evening all, my name's Sean, and I'll be your waiter tonight. Before you ask, no, sadly, it's not mine. What can I get you?"
"A pint of Kilkenny if you have it," Hermione replied at once.
"Of course," Sean nodded, "and the rest of you?"
"Honestly, that sounds good to me too," Fleur replied, with the others agreeing.
"Four Kilkennys coming up," Sean nodded before turning to leave, letting them relax.
"Now we wait," Fleur murmured, eyeing the door and casting a silencing charm around their table to ensure that no sound got out.
"It's lucky that that woman still worked for the Lynches," Luna murmured softly, and Hermione nodded.
Getting in contact with members of a family of famous hermits was, unsurprisingly, difficult, and it had taken a little digging in the library to find any regular contacts that they kept, though they did eventually come across a name that was familiar to them. Deirdre McAllen, the woman who put Horace Slughorn in contact with Declan Lynch back in the sixties, had continued to work for the man through the rest of his life, and so they'd reached out to her, getting a response surprisingly quickly.
"It gave us something to work with," Akeno nodded. "Having examined the island, I can tell why even Rias was reluctant to try going in in force unless we truly had to."
"The ward system is insane," Fleur nodded, "and that is just another clue pointing to that family as being involved here."
"Declan might have been involved," Hermione clarified, "but we have no reason to suspect that Liam has any idea about it, and if he is who we think he is…"
"Then he was raised by that monster," Fleur glared. "I understand that he is a victim in this, but we shouldn't just assume that he's innocent. Think of how 'Arry would have turned out if Voldemort had abducted him instead and raised him as his own."
"That's a singularly horrifying thought," Akeno shivered. "Fleur's right, though, and we have no idea what this guy is like."
"I feel so bad for him, though," Luna murmured, quieting down as Sean arrived with their beers.
"Here you are," he smiled, setting them down by each of them. "If you need anything else, just flag me down."
"Thank you," Hermione smiled.
"Mmm, not bad," Fleur murmured as she sipped her beer. "If he is who we think he is, then his story is both horrifying and tragic in the extreme, but he could easily be exactly like the monster who abducted him."
"From what we saw in Koneko's memory, Liam looks a lot like Declan," Akeno pointed out. "It's possible that he isn't Maelle Devereux's son at all."
"His eyes are so unique, though," Hermione sighed, "so much like hers."
"It's possible that he's both their child," Akeno said. "He was asking about her around a year before she was murdered."
"That makes it even worse," Hermione muttered. "I just hate the possibility that this baby, who was ripped from his mother's womb by her murderer, might have been raised to be just as monstrous as him."
"People aren't always copies of their parents, though," Luna said. "It's possible that, despite his upbringing, if everything is as we fear, he turned out differently."
"Well, either way, we're going to need to talk to him," Fleur scowled.
"True," Akeno acknowledged. "If he has the blood sample we're looking for, we're going to need to get it from him, and if we can do so without bloodshed, we should at least try, if for no other reason than the fact that we won't have any way of knowing where Declan stashed it."
"That could be her," Luna murmured, gesturing subtly towards the door, where a woman who looked to be in her mid-to-late fifties had walked in wearing a blouse and skirt that looked like they'd come out of the sixties.
She had her hair, a mix of blonde and white, tied back in a bun reminiscent of how Professor McGonagall wore her hair and wore a pair of very thick, dark-rimmed glasses. After speaking to the server who had greeted them, she turned to look at them and walked over, her face a picture of wary confusion.
"Here we go," Akeno murmured, wondering if this was going to come to blows already or not. "I hope Harry and Rias don't end up missing too much fun."
She smiled at that and sipped her beer, wondering how their own little adventure was going at that moment.
"Wow," Harry breathed as he took in the sight of the Crystal Palace for the first time. "That is…"
"Very, very Minobella," Venelana finished for him.
From what he'd heard of the woman and what he observed the one time that they interacted, that definitely seemed to be true. The palace was a structure of jutting crystal towers and strong walls of the same material. Dark blue, it practically hummed with power, veined with purple streaks that looked like lightning. It was beautiful and over the top, yet it radiated power and suggested strongly that danger lurked within.
"Lord Gremory, Lady Gremory," the guards at the door greeted them in unison.
Looking at Harry and Rias, they nodded silently and opened the door, letting them inside the ornate palace. Where the exterior was a mix of beauty and magical power, the interior was pure wealth displayed openly. From the thick red rugs to the many paintings that lined the walls, the entry hallway was clearly meant to show off. The frames of the paintings, each of which depicted some powerful-looking devil figure, were gilded, as were the pedestals in the next hallway on which sat various marble and bronze busts.
A pair of servants quickly found them and led them towards the ballroom, something he highly doubted was necessary, since Venelana and Zeoticus had clearly been here countless times, but it was protocol, and so they did their duty. They reached it quickly, and Harry nodded to himself as he spotted the crier standing by the door.
"Lord Zeoticus Gremory and his wife, Lady Venelana Gremory," he announced as the pair of them walked in.
Rias took Harry's hand, reminding him to wait a moment, and he smiled at her, his eyes falling on the substantial cleavage she had on display. Her blue dress hugged her incredible body perfectly, the silk falling to her ankles like a waterfall. The high slit in the right side revealed a tantalizing view of her leg, while the low neckline showed off much of her creamy breasts. She was a vision, utterly beautiful, and while the deep blue of her gown complimented her eyes, it contrasted sharply with her crimson hair, which was arranged in a single crimson braid, falling along her back.
"Rias Gremory, heiress of the House of Gremory, and her escort for the evening, Harry Potter, newly turned devil," the man called out, and they walked in.
As they did so, most of the people already there turned to look at them, but that wasn't what made him freeze for a moment.
"I felt it too; just keep walking," Rias said under her breath, and he nodded subtly, continuing forward towards Zeoticus and Venelana, who were smiling amiably as they looked around. "Mother, did you…"
"A detection spell of some kind," Venelana replied. "Ignore it for now."
"Venelana," Minobella gushed as she walked towards them. "Fashionably late as ever."
"Grandmother did instill in us the need to never arrive early to a formal function," Venelana smiled.
Minobella was wearing a lavender gown that covered her completely and yet showed off her every incredible curve. As a devil, though she was clearly centuries old, she didn't look a day older than twenty-five, much like her sister. The two had much in common beyond their refusal to age, though, both having deep brown hair, purple eyes, and heart-shaped faces. He could see certain similarities between the woman and Rias, and as another woman approached them, he noticed the same sort of things in her, giving a pretty strong clue as to who she was, though the green hair would have tipped him off otherwise.
"Aunt Venelana, Uncle Zeoticus," Seekvaira nodded respectfully before turning her attention to Rias and grinning.
"Seekvaira," Rias smiled, hugging her, "I'd like you to meet Harry."
"Ah yes, your newly turned beau," a deep, booming voice said, and Harry turned to see a rather tall man with closely cropped green hair approach them, his pink eyes boring into him. "We've heard much about you."
"Have you, Lord Hafaer?" Harry asked, able to speak since he'd been addressed directly. "That's surprising, given how recently I was turned."
"Well, you made waves in the Underworld before you became a devil," Minobella chuckled. "Speaking of, I'd suggest you avoid that group of blondes currently doing their best not to glare at you behind me."
Harry's eyes flitted over to the Phenexes, and he saw Riser openly glaring at him. The others looked less fazed, and he noticed that the shorter girl was actually looking at him curiously, though from the disgust in her blue eyes, he figured that her curiosity was entirely about how Rias could have chosen him over her brother. The taller, more full-figured woman next to her didn't look at him at all, yet she radiated irritation, and Harry quickly looked away.
"They won't try anything while they're here, but it would still be wise to keep your distance," Hafaer nodded. "Anyway, welcome to our home, and please don't hesitate to ask the servants for anything you need. The feast will be beginning shortly."
"Thank you," Zeoticus nodded. "You've always been a most generous host."
"Well, when one can…" Minobella grinned.
"Rias, Sona got here a little while ago," Seekvaira piped up. "Would you care to help me help her escape?"
"Certainly," Rias grinned, taking Harry's hand. "Come; I want to introduce you to her."
"I'm surprised you haven't yet," Seekvaira said, furrowing her brow.
"It's been a busy few weeks, and he was stuck in Britain before that," Rias explained.
"Seekvaira, do stay close by," Minobella instructed. "There are still a few who have yet to arrive, including Lord Sirzechs."
"I'm sure he and Grayfia are just running a little late," Venelana shrugged.
"It's nice to meet you, Harry," Seekvaira smiled once they were far enough away from her parents, and he smiled in response.
"Likewise," Harry replied. "Rias has mentioned you a fair bit. She said you're a big fan of this Japanese program about robots."
"I take it you're not at all familiar with Gundam," Seekvaira chuckled, and he rubbed his neck.
"I'm afraid not," Harry replied. "My exposure to all things Japanese has been rather...limited over the years."
"I'm working on changing that," Rias grinned. "By the way, Seekvaira, your dress is gorgeous."
Harry couldn't deny that and happily took the excuse to look her over again. The tall, buxom beauty was wearing a white gown that clung to her amazing figure beautifully, not unlike her mother's in that regard, though the neckline plunged further, showing off a good deal of her cleavage. Her green hair was done up in a tight bun, also like her mother's, and Harry wondered just how much say she'd had in her appearance that night.
"Yours is gorgeous," Seekvaira gushed. "The blue brings out your eyes so well, and I don't think I realized just how much you'd grown the last couple times we saw each other."
"Well, given our heritage, certain things were inevitable," Rias chuckled, enjoying it as her cousin's eyes lingered on her large breasts for a moment.
"I can't deny that," Seekvaira chuckled. "Ah, there's Sona, and...yes, we should help her."
"Ooh, you look so wonderful, Sona," Serafall gushed. "I think we should adjust your dress a little though; just enough to show off what a wonderful figure you're developing…"
"Could you not?" Sona muttered through clenched teeth.
"Serafall, please don't bother your sister," a similar-looking woman sighed, and Serafall pouted at her.
"I just want my beautiful little sister to look her best, Mother," Serafall argued.
"Rias, hi," Sona smiled as she spotted her, sounding utterly relieved. "This must be Harry; hello."
"Hello, Miss Sitri," Harry smiled, feeling a chill go down his spine as Serafall's icy blue eyes narrowed at him.
"Sona, please," Sona replied. "Rias has told me so much about you, I feel like we already met."
"You're the one who accompanied Rias to the Waterfall a while back," Salma smiled.
"I am, Lady Salma," Harry nodded. "It was utterly wonderful."
"Such a polite young man," Salma nodded, her eyes quite calculating as she looked at him and Rias.
"Your cousin, Sairaorg, arrived a few minutes ago," Sona added. "Would you like me to show you to him?"
"Yes, please," Rias replied, and Sona practically dragged her away, something that it took all of her willpower not to laugh at.
"Thank you," the Sitri heiress muttered the moment they were out of sight of her sister.
"Anytime," Rias chuckled. "Anyway, Harry, Sona here is my dearest friend."
"It is nice to meet you," Harry chuckled, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. Doing the same to Seekvaira, he added, "Both of you. I take it our timing was good."
"How much have you told him?" Sona asked, eyeing Rias, who created a barrier around them that destroyed any sound that tried to pass through it.
"Enough," she replied. "We also met Lady Serafall at The Waterfall."
"I heard about that," Sona nodded. "I hope she wasn't too weird."
"She…" Harry went to say that she'd warned him to stay away from Sona, but Rias had informed him that that was because she knew he was an incubus, something that Seekvaira didn't know yet. "She was perfectly lovely, if a bit intense. Her intervention was well-timed, given how furious Riser Phenex was."
"He caused a scene in a place as public as The Waterfall?" Seekvaira asked. "You would think that Lady Regina would have reined him in by now. I know she's not nearly as lax with her daughter."
"How familiar are you with Ravel?" Rias asked, curious.
"We met at a Rating Game a few months ago," Seekvaira replied. "I got the sense that she was a girl who wants to break free from her older brothers' shadows eventually but is content to stay where she is for now. She picked my brain about the games and selecting one's peerage but didn't seem to believe that she'd be in a position to do so for years."
"Well, you'll have an easier time connecting with her or any of the Phenexes than I will for a while," Rias muttered. She hadn't set out to infuriate an entire devil clan, much less one so prominent, but there was little choice in the matter once her betrothal to Riser came to look nearly inescapable.
"So how did you two meet?" Seekvaira asked. "I neglected to ask Rias the last time I saw her."
"I got into a bit of trouble in my old school and needed help," Harry replied. "A friend of mine had a book on devil summoning, lent it to me, and I was lucky enough to choose to summon a devil of House Gremory."
"I know you mean because of how things turned out for you two, but you have no idea how lucky you really are," Seekvaira winced. "Summoning devils at complete random can be highly dangerous for the uninitiated. Um, did I say something?"
"Let's just say that I've already come across proof of that," Harry replied, not wanting to get into the subject of his mother just then, and he smiled when Rias snaked a hand around the nape of his neck, smiling warmly up at him.
"Right," Seekvaira nodded, sensing that was a topic best avoided. "So Rias, you said that you'd found four pawns, and Harry is presumably one of them. Who are the others?"
"Our friends, Luna…" Rias began.
"She's the one who lent me that book," Harry interjected.
"Hermione, and Fleur," Rias continued. "Fleur's the Veela that the Phenexes are so upset about."
"Right," Seekvaira nodded. "So you three were simple magicians. Who required multiple pawns?"
"Fleur took two, and Harry took four," Rias replied, and her eyebrows shot towards her forehead.
"Really?" Seekvaira asked, genuinely curious. "Do…"
"Seekvaira," Minobella hissed, destroying the barrier Rias had put up with ease. "Mephisto Pheles has arrived, and your cousin Sirzechs has also been spotted."
"Duty calls," Seekvaira muttered. "Coming, Mother."
"She's going to report that back to her mother," Harry pointed out.
"The truth about you will come out eventually, Harry," Rias whispered in his ear. "We're just going to try to keep it quiet for a little while longer."
"Rias?" a booming voice asked, and Harry turned to see a mountain of a man in a black suit, not unlike his own, standing there.
"Sairaorg!" Rias exclaimed, hugging him. "Harry, this is my cousin, Sairaorg Bael. Sairaorg, this is Harry, my boyfriend."
"A pleasure to meet you," Sairaorg nodded, offering his hand.
"Likewise," Harry replied, shaking the other man's hand and keeping his face as neutral as he could as he felt just how strong he was.
The two of them were of similar heights, but while Harry had put on some muscle over the last year, he thought he still looked like a stick next to the other dark-haired man.
"Is Uncle Sechras here?" Rias asked, and Sairaorg nodded.
"He is," the man said simply, sounding like he'd rather eat a bowl of nails than speak further about his father.
"Of course, that might be his regular breakfast," Harry thought to himself, wondering if it would be a breach of protocol to ask the man about his workout routine.
"I just spoke with Lady Roygun earlier," Sairaorg said. "All the true legends of the games seem to be here tonight."
"She's here?" Rias asked. "She doesn't usually come to events like this."
"If you want her autograph, I could try to help," Sona teased, and Rias glared at her.
"She's the highest-ranking woman in the Games," Rias muttered. "It's only natural for me to be interested in her."
"I could introduce you if you like," Sairaorg smiled.
"She's the one you said had horns, right?" Harry asked.
"She does indeed," Sairaorg nodded, his eyes darting to Harry's horns. "That's a very unique reaction to the evil pieces."
"I like them," Rias replied, ghosting her hand over one of them. "I would like to meet Lady Roygun, Sairaorg."
"Of course," Sairaorg nodded. "Sona?"
"Oh, I'll tag along," Sona smiled. "Who knows what I could learn?"
"I take you're the one I corresponded with?" Deirdre asked as she sat down.
Sean immediately made his way towards their table, carrying a drink he set down by her.
"Redbreast twelve on the rocks, Mrs. McAllen," he said, and she smiled up at him.
"You're a dear man, Sean," she murmured, sipping her drink as he left them alone.
"Yes, I'm Hermione," Hermione replied.
"So what in the world does a bunch of kids who probably aren't old enough for the beers they're drinking want with a man like Declan Lynch?" she asked, her eyes dimming as she mentioned him.
"As I said in my letters, Harry Potter wishes to consult with him," Hermione replied.
"And where is Harry Potter?" Deirdre asked.
"He had a prior engagement," Akeno replied. "Akeno Himejima, ma'am."
"Harry's rather busy, as you can imagine," Luna murmured. "He sent us to speak with you on his behalf."
"Well, I'm afraid that Potter is out of luck," Deirdre sighed. "Mister Lynch died just over a week ago."
"I'm so sorry," Hermione breathed, acting like it was the first time they'd heard it. No public announcement of Declan's passing had been made, so they decided to play it off as though they thought that he was still alive.
"Thank you, dearie," Deirdre sighed. "He was such a dear man."
"Really?" Fleur asked, her tone sounding almost incredulous, and Akeno kicked her under the table. "I just mean that so little about him is known."
"He was a very private man," Deirdre replied, sipping her whiskey. "To be honest, I worked for him for over thirty years, and I still don't know how he came to learn of me."
"You didn't apply for your job?" Hermione asked, confused.
"No," Deirdre chuckled, clearly wanting to talk about her late boss. "I had graduated from Hogwarts and was working as a minor secretary to Miles Burke, the head of the Department of Magical Artefacts at the time when I received a letter asking to meet."
"That didn't strike you as odd?" Akeno asked.
"Of course it did," Deirdre scoffed, "but when I read just who wanted to meet with me, I figured it was worth a shot. We had our first meeting not far from here, and Merlin, he was wonderful. I thought...well, I didn't realize that he wanted to offer me a job at first, but it turned out that his old personal secretary had retired and he was looking for a replacement. For someone as busy and as private as him, it was necessary to keep someone employed to deal with their correspondence and handle other odd jobs that he didn't have time for. I nearly thought he wasn't going to hire me at all when he found out that my eyes were going."
She chuckled at that last part, and Luna furrowed her brow in confusion.
"Why would that be a problem?" she asked. "You're not blind, clearly."
"Might as bloody well be," Deirdre muttered, taking her glasses off and showing them to them. "I don't wear these things to make a fashion statement, dearie. Anyway, he was surprised to learn that my eyes had started to degrade the year before, given that I was still too vain to wear glasses yet, but offered me the job anyway, once I promised to get a pair. That was in sixty-two, and I've worked for him ever since. I'm going to miss that sweet old man."
"Who's taken over the house elf business now?" Hermione asked.
"His son, Liam," Deirdre replied. "Such a handsome young man, that one, and so very respectful. He's agreed to keep me on for the time being, thank goodness."
"Could Harry meet with him?" Hermione asked.
"You still haven't quite told me why Harry Potter of all people wanted to meet with his father," Deirdre replied.
"Well, as you might have read, Harry recently emigrated to Japan and has recently become engaged to a local woman from a rather wealthy family," Hermione explained. "He brought two house elves with him and they've already quite impressed a number of people there. We know that the Lynches haven't yet broken into the Asian markets and wondered if Declan Lynch or his son might be interested in a business partnership to that effect."
"Well, I can't say I expected that," Deirdre chuckled. "All I can promise is that I will relay this to Mister Lynch, and we'll see what he has to say. I know that his father had spoken about attempting to sell the elves to the wealthier magical families in China, but I don't think Japan interested him much. Still, his son's opinion on the matter could be quite different; I'm not yet that familiar with him."
"Well, as you're relaying this to him, let him know also that Harry's going to be leaving for Australia in the second week of August and not returning from there until school goes back in September, at which point it will be difficult to arrange anything before the winter break," Hermione added, and Deirdre's eyes narrowed.
"That's not a very wide window then," she muttered.
"No, but then, they could meet in the winter if necessary," Akeno added, subtly taking Fleur's hand under the table. "If Liam Lynch wants to make inroads into Asia and if a deal could be reached between him and Harry to help with that, getting started on it more quickly could only benefit both parties, though."
"As I say, I'll inform Mister Lynch of what we discussed," Deirdre nodded, finishing her drink and flagging down the waiter for her bill. "I must be going, though."
"Of course," Hermione replied. "Thank you for your time and for agreeing to let your boss know about Harry's offer. He's confident that both he and Mister Lynch could make quite a bit of money if this works out."
"The final decision will lie with Mister Lynch, though," Deirdre said flatly as she paid her bill. "Have a good evening, girls."
"You as well," they replied as they watched her go, with Hermione silencing the area around their table again the moment she was gone.
"Do you think that will work?" Fleur asked.
"I think it was our best bet," Hermione replied. "The house elves are the only thing that the public associate the Lynch family with, and a young English heir with more money than sense reaching out to try and do business with him after moving to Asia is believable enough."
"We'll give him a couple days to reply before trying something less diplomatic," Akeno added. "She seems rather devoted."
"Rather convinced that her old boss was a good man too," Luna murmured. "Our evidence against him is entirely circumstantial."
"If it's not him, then we've failed, and my father is…" Fleur trailed off, choking up as she tried and failed to finish that sentence. "No other leads we've followed have panned out, and we've ruled out most of our other suspects at this point."
"We have enough reason to be suspicious of Declan Lynch at least," Hermione agreed.
Fleur nodded and sighed, well aware both that he was their best remaining suspect, even if he had died recently, and that they were running out of time. She hadn't heard from her family since she escaped them after confronting her father, but it had been days, and his third round of symptoms would undoubtedly be starting soon if it hadn't already. No sooner had that thought popped into her head than she felt a familiar presence appear under their table, and her eyes widened in shock.
"Mistress Fleur?" Bernadette asked quietly, making everyone at the table go instantly tense.
"Bernadette?" Fleur asked, looking under the table in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
Her family's house elf seldom ever left their chateau, and she felt her blood freeze in her veins at the thought of what it would have taken for her parents to send her to her.
"Mistress Fleur, it's the master," Bernadette replied, her big eyes looking bloodshot and watery.
"No," Fleur breathed, feeling like her heart was going to implode in on itself. "He…"
"He's very sick again," Bernadette replied. "Mistress Apolline asks that you come home and promises that you won't be arrested."
"I can go with you to make sure," Akeno offered, and Fleur nodded.
"Hermione, Luna, head back to the Rookery," the blonde said. "I'll take Akeno and see what's going on."
"If you're sure that you don't want us there," Luna murmured.
"We could see if we can't learn more about the particular topic we were just discussing," Hermione said, not wanting to mention the Lynches in front of Bernadette. "Let us know if you need anything."
"I will," Fleur nodded, and the four quickly paid their bill, each wondering how bad Sebastian's condition had to have gotten for her mother to reach out as she had.
"So my overall strategy is generally divide and conquer," Roygun grinned. "Striking hard and fast from the start to shock and disorient my opponent has worked more often than you'd think, and once you have your foe off balance, trying to get their pieces moved to different parts of whatever territory we're fighting on can make it dead easy to crush them piece by piece until I've got an opening to their king. My focus is generally power, though, so if you employ a different sort of set, it probably won't work quite as well for you."
"Yeah, of course," Rias nodded, keeping her face entirely neutral with well-practiced ease despite how confusing she'd found that entire conversation. "Thank you, Lady Roygun; that was quite enlightening."
"I look forward to facing you someday," Roygun grinned, running her fingers through her long, pink hair. "As Lord Sirzechs' little sister, I'm sure you're already quite the combatant."
"I've had my share of fights, though no games yet," Rias nodded, spotting Harry across the ballroom chatting with her brother. "Excuse me."
"...accidentally destroyed not just the doorknob but the whole door to the servants' change room," Sirzechs chuckled, making her Harry snort.
"You said you were seven at the time?" he asked.
"I was a precocious little thing," Sirzechs sighed. "Mother was less than pleased, of course, though Father found the whole thing...Rias. I saw you chatting with Roygun Belphegor just now."
"Yes, I nearly managed to speak with her before the feast started, but then it did," Rias smiled. "She's...fascinating."
"That's been my overall opinion from the couple times we've met," Sirzechs replied. "Excuse me, you two, but my gorgeous wife clearly wants to dance."
They looked and saw Grayfia sitting with a couple other women, looking not at all like she wanted to dance, but neither pointed that out as the most powerful being in the room weaved his way across the dance floor with cat-like grace.
"Who's that with Grayfia?" Harry asked.
"Fierna Astaroth and Kyla Vapula," Rias replied. "Lady Kyla is the wife of Lord Balon Vapula, the current lord of that house, while Fierna is married to Lord Diolon's younger brother Delion. Her daughter is the beautiful blonde in the pink dress over there, dancing with her cousin Diadora."
"I met him earlier," Harry murmured. "I don't think I've been glared at quite like that since Draco Malfoy was still a thorn in my side."
"He wouldn't appreciate the comparison," Rias chuckled. "His opinion of humans isn't exactly glowing, and that extends to turned devils. Latia isn't terribly fond of him, and I imagine it took both her parents twisting her arm to get her to dance with him."
"Speaking of dancing, would you care to?" Harry asked, offering her his hand, and she smiled widely.
"I was beginning to think you wouldn't ask," Rias replied, taking his hand and letting him lead her to the floor.
"I've gone neither blind nor mad, so there was never any chance of that, I assure you," Harry replied, and she grinned as she felt his large, strong hand settle on her lower back. "How did your talk with that woman go? I could hear the conflict in your voice."
"It was strange, honestly," Rias replied, creating a barrier around the pair of them to keep their conversation from leaking out as they danced. "Given how high-ranking she is and how many victories she has under her belt, I expected...I don't know...more. She just didn't seem as tactically sound as I'd have expected someone with her reputation to be."
"Maybe she didn't want to share too much with a future competitor," Harry suggested.
"It's possible, but I doubt it," Rias replied. "It's not like I can't watch recordings of old Rating Games. That sort of research is pretty much mandatory for anyone starting out in them. It just sort of seemed like she had gotten very used to steamrolling her opponents."
"You did say she's pretty wickedly powerful," Harry pointed out.
"Yeah, but my brother is Sirzechs Lucifer," Rias sighed. "He's the textbook definition of overpowered, and yet he has a brilliant tactical mind too."
"He fought in the Great War, though," Harry replied, "and the Civil War. This Roygun isn't that much older than us, right? She probably hasn't had to fight in anything more serious than a Rating Game or a hunt for a stray devil in her life."
"That could explain it," Rias murmured. "I wouldn't exactly call these peace times, and even referring to the situation between us, Heaven, and the Fallen a detente would be overstating it, but no one born in the last few centuries has truly known outright war like it was during my grandparents' time."
"Have I said yet that you look utterly beautiful tonight?" Harry asked, and she giggled.
"Multiple times, though I don't mind hearing it again," Rias replied. "You've turned into a wonderful dancer, by the way."
"What can I say?" Harry replied. "I had a very good teacher. She was bloody hot too."
"Hmm?" Rias smirked. "Did you ever hope that she'd put you in dete…"
She trailed off, her heart nearly stopping as she felt the first warning probe of the bond hit. Harry and she stopped and he looked in concern.
"Rias?" he asked.
"It's fine," Rias replied. "It didn't trigger."
"Thank goodness for that," Harry sighed, twirling her around and leading her across the dance floor again, trying to give off the impression that nothing had gone wrong. "We can undo the bond if you want."
"It is making me stronger," Rias sighed, "and I've gotten a lot better at managing not to trigger it accidentally."
"It could be a weakness in combat, though," Harry pointed out. "When you start taking part in Rating Games, you'll be my commander in those battles, and the last thing either of us wants is for you to become too sex-crazed to think because you gave me an order."
"That's...something we'll need to test out," Rias admitted, paling at the thought. "I can still instruct you and still order you about in training, so that probably isn't a possibility, but it is something I hadn't considered. It only really seems to trigger when I try to rule you for entirely selfish reasons or joke about dominating you in bed, and even that's only because sexual domination is something I genuinely enjoy. I still say that the trade-off is more than worth it, though if I ever reach Sirzech's level, power-wise, then we'll absolutely do away with it. Do you think you'll bond Luna and Hermione on the next full moon?"
"Luna yes, Hermione, no," Harry replied. "It's just not in her nature, and I highly doubt she'd agree at all. I haven't even asked yet. I've barely thought about it at all over the past few weeks."
"Well, we've been rather distracted," Rias sighed. "I wonder how the others are doing in Ireland."
"Mind if I cut in?" Minobella asked, and the two froze, with Rias undoing her barrier before her aunt could again. "Venelana was saying earlier that you'd made quite the dancer out of this one, Rias."
"Not at all," Rias replied, tapping her fingers along the nape of his neck in a pattern they'd agreed meant 'go with it.' "I need a drink anyway."
"The champagne's flowing freely tonight, dear," Minobella smiled.
"It's lovely," Harry commented, and she smiled.
"I've enjoyed Bollinger's wines for centuries," Minobella replied. "Now come, and show me if my sister was exaggerating."
"I'll bring you a glass," Rias whispered in his ear, and he smiled.
"How have you been enjoying your first formal devil party?" Minobella asked as he took her hand and grasped the middle of her back.
"It's been wonderful," Harry replied, leading her to the beat of the music echoing through the ballroom. "The feast was fantastic. I don't think I had heard of half the dishes served in the many courses."
"Well, you grew up in England and now live in Japan, so fine French cuisine is likely lost on you," Minobella smirked, and he chuckled.
"I think you'd get along with Fleur, one of Rias' other pawns," he replied. "If I may ask, how long have you been this interested in France?"
"A very long time," Minobella replied. "In the fourteenth century, Cosimo de Medici summoned me seeking help in building up his family's fortune and power. The two of us worked together for decades, and I retained numerous connections to that family in the centuries that followed. When the first French king of the House of Bourbon, Henry IV, married a Medici woman, those ties extended to France, and my interest in the country only grew during the reign of his grandson, Louis XIV. Sirzechs' palace looks the way it does because I insisted on taking him on a trip to Versailles not long after they finished its construction, and he found it as marvelous as I did."
"You weren't kidding about it being a long time," Harry replied.
"My interest in them waned after the Revolution, entertaining as that bloodbath was, but enough of my contacts kept their heads that I retained significant ties to the country, and my interest was piqued again when I was fortunate enough to meet Auguste Escoffier," Minobella continued.
"Who?" Harry asked, and she sighed, rolling her eyes.
"The father of modern French cooking and one of the most brilliant culinary minds to ever live," she replied. "I actually offered to make him one of us, wanting to keep him as my personal chef for eternity, but he turned me down. Still, I made my chefs learn everything he knew and have enjoyed the benefits of that ever since. You are actually a good dancer."
"Thank you," Harry replied.
"If things ultimately work out with you and Rias, this will be your life, young man," Minobella said, and he furrowed his brow.
"Parties?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes.
"High society," she corrected him. "Look around and tell me what you see."
He did as she asked, noticing that numerous couple, were still dancing the night away, though around the fringes of the room, many more were standing or sitting together, chatting.
"Formal balls and feasts like this are chances for devils to show off their power, make themselves appear grand, and network." he recalled Venelana saying.
"I imagine everyone here knows pretty much everyone else," Harry commented, and she nodded. "Rias and your daughter certainly seem to."
He gestured over to where Seekvaira was speaking the buxom blonde girl Rias had pointed out earlier, and Minobella chuckled.
"Latia's her cousin," she said. "Her mother, Fierna, is my sister-in-law."
"Ah," Harry nodded.
"You're fortunate that few had any interest in speaking to you tonight," Minobella explained, "because that means that gaps in your knowledge like that didn't spread far, but if you intend to make a name for yourself, you will need to learn who everyone of importance is and how they're related."
"Yes," Harry nodded, wincing at that. He was surprised that Rias hadn't mentioned how they were related, but then, she'd had mere weeks to cram a lot of information into his head and had focused on the older, more important figures for obvious reasons.
"Harry," Rias breathed, and Harry turned around and looked at her in alarm. A sheen of sweat covered her gorgeous, creamy skin her face looked slightly flushed, and her pupils were blown wide.
"Rias?" Harry asked, letting Minobella go immediately.
"Could I borrow you for a moment?" Rias asked, taking his hand and practically dragging him away before he or her aunt could reply.
"Rias, what's wrong?" Harry whispered in her ear, catching up with her quickly and trying to make the way they were darting around dancing couples look more normal. "Is it the bond?"
"No," Rias replied. "Explain in a...sec."
That last word came out as a squeak, and Harry was glad that the music was loud enough to drown it out. She led him out of the ballroom, through one of the side doors, and then through numerous hallways before letting herself into what looked like a very ornate bedroom.
"This is...oh fuck...the room I was always put in when we stayed over," Rias whimpered.
"Rias, what's wrong?" Harry asked.
"I was hit with a lust curse," Rias replied. "I'd destroy it myself, but I can barely focus on anything, and I'd ask my mother or Sirzechs to do it, but that would mean telling them about it...please help me."
"A lust...who the fuck did this?!" Harry demanded.
"Honestly, it could be anyone," Rias muttered. "We'll figure that out later, but for now...ahh!"
She waved her hand over her body, and her dress and underwear disappeared at once, revealing her gorgeous body to his hungry eyes.
"Holy shit, you're soaked," Harry breathed, noticing how her inner thighs were already glistening with her arousal and her pussy was actively drooling.
"I soaked through my panties before I even reached you," Rias muttered. "Much longer and I'd have smelled like a fucking whorehouse. Please, help me, Harry."
"This sort of help you can ask me for anytime," Harry grinned. "Once you're feeling better, though, we're figuring out who's responsible."
"And fucking destroying them," Rias hissed, crying out as his fingers brushed through her sopping wet folds.
"Fuck me, you smell amazing," Harry breathed, vanishing his suit and sinking to his knees as she sat down on the bed.
He silenced the room with a wave of his hand before turning back to the beautiful redhead. Figuring out who did this would be their priority later, but for now, he had to make sure that Rias could return to the ballroom without making a scene that she'd regret, and as he started kissing his way up along one of her slick thighs, he knew just how to start.
"Yes!" Rias screamed, grabbing his head as he started to absolutely feast on her dripping quim.
"Fucking hell, you're so wet," Harry groaned, eagerly drinking down her tangy fluids. "I should have had you sit on my face, luv. I adore when you drown me."
"I...ahh...don't think I could sit still," Rias gasped, grinding her cunt on his lips and tongue. "Don't take your time, baby. We can't disappear for too long. Just fucking break me and HARRY!"
She squealed as he started speaking Parseltongue against her sensitive clit, squirting all over him. Harry grinned, happily drinking every drop he could, and plunged three fingers into her spasming tunnel, pressing them against her g-spot.
"YES, YES, YES!" Rias shrieked, writhing in ecstasy as one orgasm blended into the next.
As turned on as she'd ever been under the effects of the bond, she was as sensitive as physically possible, and Harry knew very well how to deal with her when she was like this. He cast a quick cleaning charm on her rosette just to be safe and lowered his still vibrating tongue there, making her squeak. Moving back and forth between them, he bathed her clenching, pulsating holes, returning to her clit every time he sensed that she was coming down even the slightest bit. The crimson-haired beauty lay there convulsing like she was being electrocuted, plateaued at the absolute peak of sensation as orgasm after soul-sear orgasm drove her wild.
"Need...more," Rias panted when he finally stopped, either several minutes, hours, or days later, for as little sense as she could make of the world around her in that state.
"I'll give you more," Harry grinned, lining himself up before sinking to the hilt inside her molten depths. "I'm not going to stop fucking you until you beg me to."
"Fuck!" Rias screamed, wrapping her arms and legs around him tightly, desperate to feel his warm, muscular body pressed against hers.
She leaned in and licked his neck, burying her face in his long, dark hair and inhaling his scent. Her entire race was created because Lucifer was kicked out of heaven, and yet as she lay there, stuffed to her limit by the love of her life and completely enveloped by him, she didn't honestly know how anything up there could possibly feel more like paradise than this. Harry pulled most of his incredibly thick cock from her pussy before plunging back in hard, making her scream. Her nails raked down his back as he set a hard, fast pace, knowing that the last thing she needed was time to adjust to him, and he hissed in pleasurable pain as she drew blood.
"More, more!" Rias screamed, her eyes going wide as he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. His green eyes were black with lust, looking utterly wild, and she swore she nearly came again just from seeing his desire.
"Did that help at all?" he asked.
"It did," Rias panted. "I can still feel it, and I need more, but the orgasms helped. This wasn't one of the guests, Harry. Not even Riser would be so stupid."
"Who then?" he asked, not slowing his pace at all.
"My aunt," Rias replied. "That thing we felt when...fuck, right there...we entered was one of her servants or familiars checking to see how powerful we were, and when you two danced earlier, she was probably checking you out magically there as well."
"What are we going to do?" Harry asked, changing the angle of thrusts to hit the spot that had made her scream again.
"I'll...oh fuck...tell my mother and let her deal with it," Rias moaned. "This is...fuck...good news, though."
"How?" Harry asked.
"It means she has no fucking idea what you are," Rias replied. "She wouldn't be probing at random like this if she did. Just a little more, just a...YES!"
She squealed as she came again, and Harry groaned at the feeling of her tight tunnel spasming around his length. He fucked her through her orgasm, drawing out her pleasure as much as he could, and once she went limp under him, he pulled out and flipped her over before dragging her down until her knees were on the floor.
"I am going to have to carry you for the rest of the night at this rate," Harry whispered in her ear, making her shiver. "Everyone in the ballroom is going to know that you dragged me off so I could fuck your beautiful brains out."
"YES!" Rias screamed as he plunged back inside her to the hilt. She knew it wasn't true and that she would manage to heal her muscles, achy as they'd be by the time he was done, enough so that she wouldn't even limp back in, but the thought of every major devil in the Underworld knowing what they were doing just then was so hot it made her insides clench. "Fuck me, you fucking stud, and then seed me. I want your cum to drip down my thighs for the rest of the night. FUCK!"
She shrieked as he brought his hand down on her arse hard and clawed at the bedding, swearing that she already felt close again. While furious with her aunt for this, she had to admit that the absolutely cosmic sex almost made her curse worth it.
"Mother, why are you...Lucifer's light!" Seekvaira cried as she walked into the room she sensed her mother was in and saw what she was doing.
"Close the door," Minobella commanded, and Seekvaira obeyed, though not for her sake.
"What the fuck?" the green-haired woman hissed.
Her mother had rendered a portion of the wall dividing the room she'd ducked into from the bedroom on the other side of it invisible, presumably one way, and was observing as Rias was bent over and absolutely ravaged by her boyfriend. Seekvaira stood there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, unable to look away.
"What the fuck indeed," Minobella chuckled. "That was what I asked when I found out that Venelana was actually letting her daughter continue dating some newly turned devil. I understood what she did with Riser Phenex, betrothing Rias to an obnoxious tool to see if she could find a way out of it, but letting her continue to see her boy-toy afterward, that didn't make sense. Seekvaira?!"
"What?" Seekvaira asked, blinking repeatedly to moisten her dry eyes since she doubted she'd done so once since she entered the room, transfixed as she was by the sight before her.
Harry was good-looking; she knew that. He was tall and handsome with some of the most gorgeous eyes she'd ever seen but it turned out she didn't know the half of it. His body was lean and muscular, not as bulky as Sairaorg Bael's, but visibly strong, and he had a prominent scar on his shoulder that she could make out, which served to make him look even more like a warrior. The most remarkable thing, though, had to be his cock.
"He's bigger than any of my toys," she thought to herself, "and he's fucking her with an intensity none of my machines ever manage."
He had Rias bent over the bed in the room and was fucking her so hard and fast it was a wonder he didn't slip out of her, though given how fucking big he seemed to be, perhaps that wasn't so shocking.
"What did you do?" Seekvaira asked, finally snapping out of it.
"I had a mild lust draft put into her champagne," Minobella replied simply.
"Why?" Seekvaira asked.
"Because I had ruled out everything else," Minobella muttered. "My familiar gauged his power when he entered and saw that, while impressive for a newly turned devil, he's nothing extraordinary, and I probed him extensively while we danced to see if I could find any evidence of a sacred gear in him, but found nothing at all. He's from a relatively wealthy family by wizard standards, but not excessively so, and yet I've even heard rumors that she plans to let them marry.
"Marry?" Seekvaira asked, looking away from the scene in shock.
"A couple of the Gremorys' servants were chatting about something one of them thought they'd overheard in the bar I own in Lilith a few weeks ago," Minobella replied. "You'd be amazed how chatty the help can get when they have a few. It's why I own cheep bars throughout the underworld and why I'm so careful to ensure that our own servants hear as little as possible around here. I wondered why Venelana might allow such a thing and what could be so special about the boy, and so I arranged for this little test. Tell me what you see, Seekvaira?"
"A woman in absolute ecstasy," Seekvaira replied, shivering as the look on her cousin's face made the fire in her core flare hotter. She looked like she was in the middle of one long, continuous orgasm, and the puddle of fluids on the floor under her suggested that that might actually be true.
"Indeed," Minobella chuckled. "It would seem that the answer was the simplest one of all: Rias is just a silly girl in love with the stud she found, and Venelana's gone soft."
Minobella chuckled at that and Seekvaira rolled her eyes.
"Her son is Sirzechs Lucifer," she muttered, enjoying the way that her mother glared at her for that. "She hardly needs more than that in life, so why shouldn't she let Rias be with him if she wants to be? Clearly they're rather fond of each other."
She understated that deliberately, feeling her panties grow uncomfortably wet as she watched Harry pull out of her completely and levitate her up until she was pressed against the very wall they were watching through.
"Fuck me," she thought to herself when he started walking towards them, his massive, clearly heavy cock bobbing with his every step. "He's like a horse...no, a bull. No wonder Rias is so taken with him."
"Ah, the follies of youth," Minobella sighed dramatically. "One can never have too much power, my daughter, nor too much wealth, nor too much influence. Harry Potter is an impressive specimen to be sure, and I'll admit that men that large are rare treats, but there are a few born in every generation on Earth and even more among the devils. If you want to indulge yourself with a man like that, feel free, but you wed for power, money, and status, my dear. Never forget that."
Seekvaira shuddered as her mother undid the spell he'd cast on the wall and turned to leave the room.
"Fleur took two, and Harry took four," she remembered Rias saying earlier, and she considered telling her mother so just to point out that she'd clearly overlooked something, given that no ordinary human wizard should have required four pawns, but she ultimately decided against it. "If Mother thinks she's found her answer, then she won't do anything else insane for the foreseeable future."
"You realize that this could have ended very poorly, right?" she asked, and Minobella halted. "If Rias had made a fool of herself back in the ballroom, Aunt Venelana would have wanted blood."
"I made sure that she'd be spirited away subtly if things escalated faster than I anticipated, but I doubted that was likely," her mother chuckled. "She, as I expected, grabbed him at once and took him to her old room here. Now, it doesn't do for a hostess to be away from her own party for long, nor for her daughter to be. Come along."
"Give me a moment," Seekvaira replied. "I'll be along shortly."
Minobella narrowed her eyes for a moment but relented and left her alone.
Seekvaira let out a breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding once she was alone and slumped against the wall, her mind still replaying the scene she'd just witnessed. Either Rias or Harry had silenced the room, so she hadn't been able to hear her cousin's pleasured screams, but she knew from the way she looked that she had been screaming and squealing in ecstasy, and it drove the other devil wild. She bit down gently on one of her knuckles and shivered, taking a moment to recollect herself and try to calm down. If she'd had the time, she'd have snuck away to her room and taken care of this herself, but she knew that she didn't and decided to just focus on her breathing instead.
"I wonder just what is so special about him, besides the obvious," she thought to herself, figuring that whatever it was, she'd likely find out in time.
"Mama?" Fleur asked cautiously as she let herself into her family home.
"I don't sense danger yet, but…" Akeno went to say when Apolline rushed over.
"Fleur, thank goodness," she breathed, embracing her daughter.
"Mama, what...what's happened?" Fleur asked, noticing how bloodshot her mother's eyes were as she pulled back.
"Oh, Fleur, it was awful," Apolline wept. "Your papa had been tired for a few days again, and we knew that something was going to happen, but we weren't prepared for it. Earlier today, he collapsed to the ground and began screaming in pain."
"What happened?" Fleur breathed. "What did the healers say?"
"He had started to overheat terribly," Apolline replied.
"A fever?" Akeno asked, and she looked over at her in confusion. "Oh, I'm Akeno Himejima, a friend of Fleur's from Japan."
"Another one who speaks perfect French," Apolline noted. "It wasn't really a fever. He...oh, goodness, I shouldn't say this in front of strangers. Fleur, if you could…"
"Akeno's my lover too," Fleur added, and her eyes widened. "Harry and I share her and she knows everything so far."
"You...we're going to have a lengthy conversation at some point about what you haven't told me," Apolline muttered. "The overheating was very...area specific...it was his balls."
"Oh, Merlin," Fleur breathed. "He…"
"Gabrielle was here when it happened too and witnessed her father fall to the floor and clutch himself desperately as he started screaming in agony," Apolline sobbed. "She's in her room now, a complete wreck, and I'm no better. Sebastian is at the hospital, knocked unconscious and being kept in an ice bath to try to prevent permanent damage. The other symptoms were bad enough, but this...I've seen your papa nurse countless wounds over the years and never act like they were more annoying than a paper cut. Please tell me your investigation has borne fruit, Fleur. The aurors won't tell me anything, and he just keeps saying that they're working on it, but I'm so scared…"
"We're close," Fleur promised, feeling rage and fear both bloom in her heart. "We can't say for sure who did it yet, but I know we're close."
"Promise me that if you find the one who did this, you won't go after them yourself," Apolline sighed.
"If I find him, I'll make sure that he's dealt with by people more than capable of doing so," Fleur replied, and her mother nodded, not even bothering to ask if she meant the aurors.
"You said that your other daughter is upstairs?" Akeno asked.
"Yes," Apolline sighed. "Fleur, if you could speak with her. I haven't been able to do much."
"Of course," Fleur nodded. "Akeno, could you make us all some tea?"
"Sure," Akeno replied.
"I'll show you to the kitchen," Apolline sighed, feeling so drained that she couldn't even bring herself to question this stunningly beautiful woman that her daughter was clearly sleeping with. She had sensed the essence of others on both Fleur and Harry when they were there but had not bothered asking, figuring that she'd tell her eventually.
"What about the arrest warrant for Fleur?" Akeno asked.
"There are no aurors here," Apolline replied, "and Sebastian never formally filed one after she left."
Akeno nodded at that and set about trying her best to help, thinking to herself that one way or another, they would have their meeting with Liam Lynch soon.
"An intriguing offer," Liam murmured to himself as Deirdre finished her report.
"I did as you asked, sir," she nodded, "and pretended to open up about your father's passing."
"How did they react?" he asked.
"They were sympathetic for the most part, though the Veela had an odd edge to her," Deirdre replied, and he stilled in his high-backed chair.
"Veela?" he asked. "Was she French?"
"She spoke perfect English," Deirdre replied. "I'd guess she was born in London, given the accent."
"And yet, from what I've heard, no Veela has attended Hogwarts in decades," Liam mused. "Granted, I don't get out much, but still...look into my eyes."
Deirdre nodded and gazed up into his beautiful, pale blue eyes, wincing as she felt the probe of legilimency hit her undefended mind.
"Fleur Delacour," he scowled as he finished observing her memory. "Damn!"
He recognized her both from the articles he'd read on the tournament that had been held at Hogwarts the previous year and his own research from months previously.
"Fleur Delacour, with a perfect London accent," he thought to himself, tapping his fingers on the desk in front of him.
"Leave us," Liam commanded softly. "You did well."
"Thank you, sir," Deirdre replied, turning and using the floo to leave his tower.
"Damn it all!" Liam hissed, recalling a conversation he'd had weeks earlier.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked as Reinhardt appeared before him.
"I tracked your basket back," Reinhardt chuckled, leaning on a cane he hadn't used the last time they saw each other. "You didn't need to use such crude methods to requisition my goods."
"I hoped to avoid this conversation," Liam muttered.
"Just as antisocial as all ze Lynches," Reinhardt chuckled. "Funny zat."
"I don't have time for you," Liam hissed. "I have work to do: schemes to plan, people to kill."
"Like Sebastian Delacour?" Reinhardt asked, and he went still before glaring at the older man.
"I would ask how you knew that, but then, you do have a habit of knowing things you shouldn't, don't you?" Liam asked.
"I have traded in information for longer zan you've been alive," Reinhardt chuckled, "and it is out of...sentiment, zat I must varn you zat zis plan of yours is not going to vork out in your favor."
"Delacour's hardly the most high-profile figure I've ever tangled with, and he's drawing too close to something that would ruin everything here," Liam scowled.
"All I will say is that zat he is not without significant resources," Reinhardt replied, "und, as someone who has long enjoyed ze good fortunes of the House of Lynch, I would be remiss not to warn you against zis. You used my curse, did you not? My advice would be to end it before it is too late."
"If I end it now, the good fortunes of my house, as you put it, will be at risk," Liam muttered. "If that stubborn fool had just abandoned the investigation decades ago when everyone else around him said to, we wouldn't be here."
"I have said my piece," Reinhardt shrugged. "Good luck, Herr Lynch."
Without another word, he disappeared, and Liam rolled his eyes, muttering something unflattering under his breath about Germans.
"He knew more than he let on," he hissed, contemplating contacting the old man before deciding against it. "Pour me a glass of the Redbreast twenty-seven."
"Yes, master," Grubby, one of his personal elves replied, and he sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"I tried to be subtle," he thought to himself. "I tried to eliminate that wretched interloper in a way that would see his underlings spend the next few years searching Australia before giving up. I should have dropped the hammer when they found my safehouse in France, but there was nothing there linked to me in any way; I'm sure of that. Now, though, Delacour's daughter and the English golden boy are sniffing at my doorstep."
The problem had grown significantly more serious, and that required a more serious approach. As his elf handed him his whiskey, he took a sip and closed his eyes, contemplating the problem before scowling. If they were getting close to him, that meant he was going to have to deal with them all more harshly and completely.
"I do so hate making a mess," he sighed to himself. "Still, needs must."
He set his drink down and pulled out a roll of parchment and his favorite quill as he set about replying to Harry Potter, writing that his idea sounded splendid and that he was looking forward to meeting with him at his tower.