Chapter 5

“What are we going to do?” Hermione asked.

She picked up her clothes, which had been strewn haphazardly across the floor, and quickly dressed.

“When time starts, you need to tell her you know where Dumbledore’s weapon is,” Harry said.

“Weapon?” she asked, furrowing her brow cutely.

“There isn’t one, of course,” he told her with a shrug. “We just need to stop her from trying to curse Heather and get her out of the castle.”

“Why?” Hermione asked. “Can’t you just… do whatever you’re going to do here?”

“I could, but your payment only covers Umbridge,” he explained. “If I kill her now, you still have to deal with Malfoy and his lot. I could help you, of course, but it’ll cost you extra.”

Hermione bit her lip and looked over at Umbridge uncertainly. Harry could see that, despite everything the woman had done, she was still disturbed by the idea of killing her.

“She deserves it,” he told her softly. “Umbridge has done some horrible things. She killed her own mother to hide the fact that she’s actually a Half-blood.”

“Really?” Hermione frowned.

Harry nodded.

“Her father’s wife couldn’t get pregnant. They thought admitting that would make them look weak, so they Imperiused a Muggle woman, impregnated her, and forced her to carry the baby. After she gave birth, they Obliviated her. Her stepmother confessed everything on her deathbed. She’d been heavily abused by her husband since they got married, but she lost her fear of him when she realized she was about to die. Umbridge spent years destroying all evidence of what happened, including murdering the woman who didn’t even remember giving birth to her. And it wasn’t pleasant, either. She firmly believes in all that Pureblood bullshit.”

“How do you know all that?” Hermione asked. “Were you watching her?”

“No,” Harry smiled, shaking his head. “It’s one of the perks of being a Lost Soul. We can’t pass judgment, but we can see the verdict. Umbridge will spend the rest of eternity in hell for the things she’s done, and that doesn’t happen by accident.”

Hermione looked at Umbridge, nodded reluctantly, and straightened her clothes.

“I’m ready,” she said.

“Then go stand by Millicent,” he said. “I’ll count to three, and then time will start again. You’ll have to be quick. She’s already halfway through the incantation, and we only have one shot at this.”

Hermione nodded, took her place in front of Millicent, and sucked in a slow fortifying breath.

“Ready?” Harry asked, to which he received a nervous nod. “One. Two. Three!”

“I know where Dumbledore’s weapon is!” she shouted.

Umbridge froze again, this time of her own accord, and turned her beady gaze to Hermione. “Weapon?” she barked. “What weapon?”

“The weapon Dumbledore plans to use to take over the Ministry,” Hermione said.

She glanced over at Harry, and he nodded encouragingly.

“Hermione, what are you – Oof!”

Ron grunted as Crabbe buried a meaty fist in his stomach.

“Stop it!” Hermione yelled. “Please, don’t hurt them, and I’ll tell you everything.”

Umbridge turned and brandished her wand, causing Hermione to flinch slightly.

“Where is it?” Umbridge hissed. “Where is this weapon?”

“It’s – It’s in the forest,” she replied. “I can show you.”

Umbridge narrowed her eyes and licked her lips.

“Mr. Malfoy, you and your friends stay here with them,” she said, gesturing to Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Luna. “Granger, show me where it is. You, too, Potter. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Move!”

Heather looked at Hermione questioningly as they left the classroom at wand point. Hermione gave her a look that begged her to trust her. Harry trailed along behind them, invisible to everyone except Hermione. Quickly, they made their way outside, across the front lawn, and into the Forbidden Forest.

With the sunlight blocked by the heavy tree cover above, the atmosphere felt gloomy, almost sinister. It was like hours had passed in just a few steps, and they had descended into night. The castle disappeared behind them as they weaved through the thick brush. Harry took particular pleasure in watching Umbridge stumble and bumble her way through the forest, her clothes growing and hair growing steadily more disheveled.

“How much further is it?” she asked demandingly.

“Oh, I think that’s far enough.”

Umbridge spun around at the sound of his voice and recoiled at the sight of Harry, naked and completely at ease, behind her.

“Who are you?!” she yelled, brandishing her wand threateningly. “What is this-this depravity?!”

“This is where you die,” he smirked.

Her eyes narrowed, and the tip of her wand quivered.

“You think you can threaten me? I’m the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic!” Umbridge shouted, her eyes gleaming madly as she twirled around to Hermione. “You think you can trick me, you filthy Mudblood?! I’ll make sure you pay for this!”

Harry snapped his fingers. Umbridge’s wand was wrenched from her hand and flung onto the forest floor, lost among the sticks and roots littering the ground. Her eyes filled with panic as she began backing away.

“Cornelius will hear about this!” she shouted threateningly. “I’ll see you in Azkaban for this! All of you!”

She turned to run, but came up short when Harry appeared in front of her without a sound. His hand shot out. There was no impact to be felt. No wound. Not a single drop of blood. But his hand sank deep into her chest. Umbridge stared down at his arm disbelievingly.

“You shouldn’t have threatened my sister,” Harry growled.

He yanked his hand back. Umbridge’s soul, like a ghost, was ripped from her body. Her pale, semi-transparent fists beat at his arm futilely as her lifeless corpse collapsed to the ground with a perpetually shocked expression etched on her face. Hermione gasped, covering her mouth in a mixture of shock and horror. Heather gripped her hand comfortingly but looked decidedly less bothered.

“Back in a moment,” Harry smiled. “Wait for me here.”

Soul in hand, he descended into the ground. Umbridge’s struggles grew as they picked up speed and sank at tremendous velocity into darkness. A few moments later, they appeared in the sky above the Fields of Anguish, hurtling toward the ground like a bullet.

“Special delivery!” Harry shouted.

Umbridge screamed in terror, and they slammed into the ground. It didn’t hurt either of them, but Harry knew it would scare the hell out of her.

“What’s this?”

Harry straightened up, still with a tight grip on Umbridge, and smiled. Umbridge took one look at Jezebel and gasped.

“Demon!”

“Really?” Jezebel said, arching an eyebrow. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Hey, Jez,” Harry grinned. “I brought you a present.”

“I see,” she smiled. “Things with your mortal are going well. Delores Umbridge, welcome to your new home.”

Umbridge whimpered fearfully. Curious Imps flew overhead, circling like vultures before they landed on the rocks nearby. She stared at their absurdly large members fearfully while Jezebel pulled a clipboard out of thin air in a swirl of black mist and ran her finger down the paper.

“You’re a little early, but I think we have room for you,” she said, looking up and nodding to the Imps. “Take her to room thirty-two.”

Harry pushed Umbridge away. She screamed as the Imps descended on her, grabbed her by the arms and legs, and carried her away.

“Should I expect more souls soon?” Jezebel asked as her screams faded into the distance.

“I hope so,” Harry grinned.

She smiled, shook her head, and caressed his cheek.

“Try not to make too much extra paperwork for me.”

“No promises,” Harry said.

He stole a quick kiss before returning to the land of the living. Hermione and Heather were right where he’d left them, caught in the middle of an argument.

“They have him, Hermione!” Heather said, her voice thick with desperation. “I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

“I know, but-Harry!” Hermione yelled.

“He’s back?” Heather asked. “Does he know anything about Sirius?”

“I told you, he can’t tell us without payment,” Hermione said exasperatedly.

“Well, what would it cost?” Heather asked, running a hand through her long, dark red hair.

“Five years,” Harry replied.

Hermione turned to him wide-eyed. Heather, who couldn’t see or hear him, looked on frustratedly.

“Five years?” Hermione asked. “Five years of what?”

“Of having you at my beck and call, anytime, anywhere, anyway I want,” he shrugged. “I told you, the more my interference affects the mortal world, the higher the cost.”

Hermione, clever girl that she was, narrowed her eyes as she picked up on what he wasn’t saying. What he couldn’t say.

“What’s going on?” Heather demanded impatiently.

“He said it would cost me five years of being his… sex toy, essentially,” Hermione said.

Heather looked devastated, her shoulders slumped. A moment later, she gathered herself and set her shoulders determinedly.

“I’m going to the Ministry,” she said, turning and marching back toward the castle.

“Heather, wait!” Hermione yelled, running after her.

“I’m going, Hermione,” Heather said firmly, weaving her way between roots.

“I’m not trying to stop you,” Hermione told her impatiently, rolling her eyes. “But we need to come up with a plan. We don’t have our wands, and how are we going to get to the Ministry?”

Heather bit her lip in thought.

“We’ll go back to Gryffindor Tower and ask the DA members for help,” she said eventually. “And maybe we can go to Hogsmeade and summon the Knight bus?”

“The Knight bus is run by the Ministry,” Hermione said.

“Then we’ll go by broom,” Heather replied.

“Your broom is still locked up in Umbridge’s office,” Hermione reminded her. “We might not be able to get it.”

“Well, what do you suggest?” Heather asked angrily. “We can’t exactly walk to London!”

Harry cleared his throat pointedly, and Hermione turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You have a suggestion?” she asked.

Harry nodded and smiled.

“Well?” she asked expectantly.

“You know the rules,” he reminded her.

Hermione sighed and glared at him just as they reached the edge of the forest and stepped onto the front lawn.

“How much?” she asked.

“Three nights,” Harry replied. “Anything goes, but I promise it’s nothing you won’t enjoy.”

“What’s he saying?” Heather asked.

Hermione held up a finger.

“Fine, this better be worth it,” she said.

“Just use Umbridge’s Floo,” Harry shrugged.

“But the Floo at Hogwarts can only be used for calls!” she said, throwing her hands up and looking to the sky in askance. “The wards don’t allow for magical travel in or out, it says so in Hogwarts, a History.”

“Normally, you’d be right,” Harry nodded. “But wards can be changed when needed. And when Fudge demanded that Umbridge have a convenient way of getting back to her office in the Ministry, Dumbledore altered the wards. It connects her office at Hogwarts directly to her office at the Ministry.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, and she quickly turned to Heather.

“Harry says we can use the Floo in Umbridge’s office to get there.”

“Brilliant!” Heather said. “Now we just need to get to Gryffindor and get the DA to help us get our wands back.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Harry smiled and nodded toward the castle.

Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Luna burst out of the front doors and pelted across the lawn.

“Look!” Hermione yelled.

Heather followed her gaze, and then both of them ran up to meet their friends.

“How did you get out?” Hermione asked.

“They stole the sweets I had in my pocket,” Ron grinned as Neville hunched over to catch his breath next to him. “I was going to eat one of the Puking Pastilles so I could be sick on Crabbe-you know, to create a distraction-but Malfoy caught me sneaking it out of my pocket. Idiots didn’t know what they were and ate the lot. It’s a bloody mess in there.”

“Parkinson vomited all over my shoes,” Ginny said, wrinkling her nose as she handed Heather and Hermione their wands.

“Thanks,” Heather said. “Listen, I’m going to the Ministry to save Sirius.”

“We’re coming with you,” Ron said. “We talked about it on the way down here, and we’re not letting you go alone.”

Neville, Luna, and Ginny nodded in agreement. Heather looked genuinely touched as she swallowed thickly.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully.

“How are we getting there?” Neville asked. “Knight bus?”

“We’ll use the Floo in Umbridge’s office,” Hermione said.

Ginny tilted her head to the side.

“I thought the Floos at Hogwarts didn’t allow for travel,” she said.

“We’ll explain later,” Heather said impatiently. “Come on, we need to hurry.”

As they all walked back up to the castle, Luna fell back until she was next to Hermione, and then glanced over her shoulder at Harry and squinted her eyes.

“Hermione, did you know you have a rather large Nargle following you?” she asked curiously.

“Yes, Luna,” Hermione said. “I’m very aware.”

Harry smiled and waved at Luna. She waved back happily.

“You can see him?” Heather asked.

“Oh, yes,” Luna smiled. “He’s very fuzzy.”

“Interesting,” Harry said. “I wonder if she can hear me.”

Luna didn’t respond, so he assumed she couldn’t.

Quickly, they made it back to Umbridge’s office. Everyone wrinkled their noses at the stench, but otherwise ignored it and tiptoed around the mess on the floor as they made their way over to the Floo. Hermione grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from the jar on the mantle, stepped into the hearth, and tossed it at her feet.

“Ministry of Magic!”

She vanished in a burst of green flames. One by one, the others stepped in and did the same. Just as Ginny vanished, Snape rounded the corner furiously. Neville, the only person left, looked back at him wide-eyed.

“Longbottom!” Snape shouted. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Neville grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and stepped into the hearth.

“Longbottom, don’t you dare!”

“Ministry of Magic!”

Snape lunged into the room, but it was too late. His hand clenched at nothing but air as he tried to grab Neville. Harry smirked as the man swore to himself and stormed from the office. A moment later, he reappeared in Umbridge’s office at the Ministry. Like her office at Hogwarts, it was painted bright pink, and plates with animated kittens decorated the walls.

He arrived just as Neville tumbled out of the Floo and crashed into the desk. An ink pot was knocked to the floor, where it broke and stained the carpet.

“Neville, are you alright?” Hermione asked, helping him to right himself.

“Snape saw me leave,” he said nervously. “He almost grabbed me.”

“Oh, bloody hell,” Ron groaned. “He’s going to give us detention for a year.”

“Maybe, but this might be a good thing,” Hermione said.

Ron looked at her like she’d grown two heads.

“Good?!” he asked incredulously. “How can this possibly be good?!”

“Because he’s part of the Order,” Hermione pointed out. “Hopefully, he’s going to go tell Dumbledore where we are.”

“Even if he does, we can’t wait,” Heather said, making her way over to the door. “Come on.”

Cracking open the door, she peeked cautiously outside before swinging the door open fully and stepping outside. The outer office was filled with empty desks stacked high with piles of parchment. Large filing cabinets lined the bare, grey walls. They moved carefully and quietly through the office, but it quickly became apparent that no one was there.

“Look,” Heather said, pointing to the end of the hall. “There’s the elevator.”

Quickly, they climbed inside, hit the button, and descended to the lowest floor.

“It’s odd there’s no one here, isn’t it?” Hermione asked. “It’s only six o’clock.”

“Dad always said people couldn’t wait to leave at the end of the day,” Ginny offered nervously.

The rest of the elevator ride was tensely silent.

“Level nine,” a cool, disembodied female voice announced. “Courtrooms.”

“It’s this way,” Heather said.

She led them out of the elevator and down the hall. Harry recognized the series of twists and turns from the dreams Voldemort sent her. Eventually, they reached a familiar door at the end and entered a cavernous room. It was filled, floor to ceiling, with towering shelves. Each shelf held hundreds of glowing orbs.

“What is this place?” Hermione asked softly.

“The Hall of Prophecies,” Harry replied, gazing around the room. “Tell your friends not to touch anything that doesn’t have their name on it. They’ll go mad if they do.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, and she quickly relayed the information, but Harry wasn’t paying attention. He was eyeing the Death Eaters he could see concealed under invisibility cloaks and Disillusionment Charms.

His blood boiled. These people had set a trap for his sister. Many of them hoped to kill her, and yet there was nothing he could do about it.

Heather frantically ran down the aisle between the shelves, and he followed after her.

“Ninety-nine, ninety-eight,” she counted aloud. “Ninety-seven! This is it! In my dream, Sirius was right here!”

Heather and her friends spread out and looked around, but there was no one there.

“Sirius!” Heather yelled, growing increasingly desperate.

Her friends looked at each other nervously but kept their silence as they helped search.

“Heather!” Neville called.

“What?”

He pointed to one of the orbs on the shelf.

“It has your name on it,” he said.

Heather made her way over to him and eyed the orb fascinatedly. A Compulsion Charm, Harry realized. Slowly, she lifted a hand to touch it. Hermione made to stop her, but Harry interrupted her before she could speak by placing a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s alright,” he said, keeping his eyes on his sister. “It has her name on it; she can touch it.”

As if in a trance, Heather picked up the orb and stared into its swirling depths. All around them, under their cloaks and charms, the Death Eaters crept closer, surrounding them. Harry itched to destroy them, but he could do nothing.

“Very good,” Lucius Malfoy said as he and the other Death Eaters made themselves known. “Now, hand of the prophecy, Potter.”

The students circled up, wands drawn. They put on a brave face despite being outnumbered two to one. Heather clutched the prophecy close to her chest.

“Where’s Sirius?” Heather demanded.

The Death Eaters laughed.

“You’d think you’d be able to tell the difference between dreams and reality,” Malfoy sneered. “Now, give me the prophecy.”

“Why do you want it?” Heather asked. “What does Voldemort want with it?”

“Do not speak his name!” Bellatrix shouted.

She took a step forward, but Malfoy blocked her progress with his arm.

“It would be in the best interest of you and your friends,” he sneered, holding out his hand expectantly, “if you did as you were told. Now, give me the-”

“Take one more step and I’ll break it,” Heather said, raising the prophecy threateningly as Malfoy inched closer.

Bellatrix cackled madly, the sinister sound echoing loudly in the cavernous room.

“Aw, wittle baby Potter knows how to play,” she sang. “Let’s torture her friends until she hands it over.”

“Now, now, Bellatrix,” Malfoy said, holding her back again. “Let’s not be hasty. I’m sure Potter and her friends can be reasoned with.”

While the Death Eaters were distracted, Hermione discreetly nudged Ron’s shoulder and nodded pointedly toward the shelves. He got the hint and passed the message on to Neville, who passed it on to Luna, who passed it on to Ginny. Despite being the focus of the Death Eaters’ attention, Heather picked up what was going on.

“Give me the prophecy,” Malfoy growled. “Now!”

“Reducto!” several voices shouted at once.

Heather and her friends targeted the bottom of the shelves. The legs were reduced to ash, and they toppled over, causing an avalanche of glass orbs. The Death Eaters were forced to shield themselves or risk going mad if they so much as touched one of the prophecies.

“Run!” Heather shouted.

She and her friends took off deeper into the Hall of Prophecies. They weaved between the shelves to dodge errant spells fired haphazardly by the Death Eaters desperately trying to chase them. At the back of the group, Ron and Neville fired more Reductor Curses over their shoulder as they ran, causing more shelves to collapse.

At the end of the Hall, they burst through a door into a circular room with a dozen doors spaced evenly along the wall. The door slammed shut as soon as they were all inside, and then the walls began to spin. It moved so fast they lost all track of which door was which. When it stopped a few moments later, they looked around the room wildly.

“Which way do we go?” Ron asked.

“Should we split up?” Ginny asked.

“No,” Heather said firmly. “We stick together.”

“Everyone, pick a door and see if you can find an exit, but don’t go inside,” Hermione added.

They spread out along the right half of the room and each opened a door. Unfortunately, Neville chose the door that led back to the Hall of Prophecies.

“There they are!” one of the Death Eaters shouted.

Neville ducked a Stunning Hex and slammed the door shut.

“In here, quick!” Heather shouted.

Her friends fled inside, Harry trailing after them, and the door slammed shut behind them. It was dark inside, so they lit their wands. They were in a room full of hourglasses of all shapes and sizes, sitting on tables and inside cabinets.

“Are those Time-Turners?” Ron asked.

“It looks like it,” Hermione nodded.

They crept deeper into the room. Neville edged his way around a Time-Turner that was taller than he was.

“Hey, I’ve got another door over here,” Ginny called.

Everyone made their way over to her when the door suddenly burst open and two Death Eaters rushed inside. Heather and her friends ducked behind tables and hid behind shelves as they exchanged spell fire.

“They’re over here!” one of the Death Eaters shouted. “In the-”

“Silencio!”

Hermione’s spell hit him in the chest, cutting off his voice. The Death Eater raised his wand and slashed it through the air. A purple, flaming ship extended from the tip, heading straight for Hermione’s chest. She flinched back in panic.

“Harry!”

Time froze. Spells stood in mid-air. A Stunning Hex from Heather’s wand hovered inches from the other Death Eaters’ unprotected chest, his wand busy blocking a Disarming Charm from Ginny.

“Why can’t I move?” Hermione asked, her chest rising and falling with her harsh, rapid breathing.

“Your life is in danger,” Harry said. “I can’t do anything to save you until we make a deal.”

She nodded erratically, tears welling in her eyes.

“I panicked,” she sniffled. “I’ve never seen that spell before. I didn’t know what to do. I should’ve just used a shield.”

“A basic shield won’t stop that,” he told her.

“Is it going to kill me?” she asked quietly, her voice quivering fearfully.

“Not immediately,” Harry said. “Your Silencing Charm helped. Making him cast it non-verbally weakened it. It will hurt. Badly. And if you don’t get medical attention quickly, you could still die.”

A tear fell down Hermione’s cheek.

“But you can save me, right?” she asked hopefully.

Harry stepped in front of her and pulled her into a hug.

“Of course I can,” he said, pulling back and wiping the tears from her cheek with his thumbs.

“What will it cost me?” she asked.

“One year,” Harry smiled. “And I promise to only corrupt you a little.”

Hermione let out a short, choked laugh.

“You’re really him, aren’t you? You’re really Harry Potter, not some demon trying to trick me and steal my soul?”

“I’m really Harry,” he said, caressing her cheek.

She closed her eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath, and opened them back up.

“Deal.”

Harry smiled and slipped behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, his hand resting on her stomach, and took her extended wand hand in the other.

“Just relax and let me take care of everything,” he said softly. “On the count of three. Ready?”

Hermione nodded.

“One. Two. Three.”

The world burst into motion around them. Harry quickly twirled Hermione’s wand in a clockwise motion. A gleaming, silver shield three feet wide exploded from the tip. The Death Eater’s curse bounced off of it with a loud gong. Next to them, the other Death Eater fell to Heather’s spell and collapsed to the ground.

Harry jabbed Hermione’s wand forward violently. The shield shot forward, slammed into the Death, and sent him crashing into the wall behind him. He fell to the ground, unmoving, and the room fell silent.

“Bloody hell, Hermione,” Ron gaped.

“We need to get out of here,” Ginny said. “No way they didn’t hear all that.”

“Wait,” Hermione said.

Everyone stopped and shared a curious look as she slowly approached the Death Eater who had tried to curse her. Harry followed behind her.

“He was really trying to kill me, wasn’t her?” she asked.

“He was,” Harry said.

“Er, Hermione, what-” Ron began, but Heather shushed him.

“Does this count as having him at my mercy?” Hermione asked, leveling her wand at the fallen Death Eater.

“It does.” Harry nodded.

“And if you come back, you can help us?” she asked. “You can get us out of here alive?”

“I can.”

Hermione bit her lip and turned to look at Heather. His sister’s green eyes glimmered hopefully, and they seemed to hold a silent conversation.

“Do it,” Hermione said. “Do whatever you need to do.”

Harry grinned and planted a searing kiss on her lips.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in a sec.”

“What the hell is going on?” Ron asked.

“Tell Heather she can explain,” Harry said as he reached down and ripped the soul from Dolohov’s body. “It’ll save time when I get back.”

Turning back to Hermione, he smiled and descended through the ground, dragging Dolohov’s soul with him to hell. The man screamed threats as they fell through the air above the Fields of Anguish and landed hard on the ground

“Release me!” Dolohov shouted. “The Dark Lord will-”

His voice fell silent. Harry smiled and turned, expecting to see Jezebel, but instead, he found himself staring at the chest of Lucifer. Slowly, he raised his face until he was looking him in the eyes.

“So, you’re going back?” he asked, eyeing Dolohov curiously.

“Yes, sir,” Harry said.

Lucifer nodded and waved a hand toward Dolohov.

“Take him away.”

Imps swooped in, picked him up, and carried him into the distance.

“You know that when you return to the mortal world, you’ll lose most of the knowledge that could help you,” Lucifer said, folding his hands behind his back.

“I know,” Harry nodded. “I planned to summon Jezebel to help me.”

“Not a bad idea,” he nodded. “But I have another offer for you.”

“Sir?” Harry asked curiously.

“I will let you retain all your memories in exchange for Tom Riddle’s soul,” he said. “All of it. Every last piece. If you succeed, our deal is complete. However, if you die, your soul will return to Hell for all eternity, never to leave again.”

“Whoa,” Harry said. “You really want this guy dead.”

“He’s avoided his punishment for far too long,” Lucifer growled. “Now, do we have a deal?”

He extended his enormous red hand in offering.

Harry paused in thought. His plan to use Jezebel’s help would work, but keeping all of his memories would make killing Voldemort so much easier. It was a risk. He might never get to see his family, but it was one he felt it was worth taking. Slowly, he reached out and shook hands with the devil.

“Deal,” he said.

“Good,” Lucifer smiled. “Now, go and bring me his soul.”

“Yes, sir.”

With a cheeky salute, Harry vanished. Lucifer watched him go and let out a breath.

“Nix!” he shouted.

A petite, muscular female demon with short, spiky hair hiding her horns appeared next to him in a burst of fire.

“You called,” she said.

“I expect Jezebel to be summoned to the mortal world soon,” he said. “I’ll need you to take over her duties until she returns.”

“Harry’s going back?” Nix asked, raising her eyebrows. “Aw, I’m gonna miss that guy.”

Lucifer smiled and looked up into the murky, sulfur-filled air.

“We all are.”

~

Harry reappeared in the Time Room.

“Oh, Merlin,” Ginny gasped.

She turned bright red and covered her eyes, while Luna glanced him up and down and tilted her head to the side.

“You don’t look like a Nargle,” she said.

“Are you really back?” Heather asked.

Smiling, Harry nodded. Heather rushed forward and hugged him tightly.

“I’m glad you’re here, but can you please put on some clothes?”