Chapter 35:
– Ginny –
"Thanks, Harry," she murmured softly, her voice genuine and filled with appreciation. "I really appreciate your family helping me look for him…"
Stepping closer to him, she lifted herself slightly onto the tips of her toes and pressed her soft lips against his, her slender hands settling firmly on the solid warmth of his strong, muscular chest.
Harry's lips curled slowly into a possessive smirk as she pulled back slightly, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling with gentle amusement. She knew that look well, and it always caused a pleasant tightening in her stomach, sending a rush of warmth straight to her cheeks and, embarrassingly, other places.
"Of course, Gin," Harry told her softly, his voice low and commanding. His fingertips brushed along the curve of her waist, settling lightly but possessively at her hip. "My family will do everything possible to find your dad. Besides," he added, his smile deepening into something almost wicked, those mesmerizing blue eyes locked onto her with unhidden intent, "you're MY contracted witch, after all. And this is going to be my first official contract so I won't screw it up!"
His words washed over Ginny, and she felt herself blush fiercely at the possessive growl lacing Harry's deep voice. Merlin, she adored that sense of possessiveness from him. Harry always made her feel valued, desired, and protected—completely safe in his embrace. She swallowed against her dry throat, unable to suppress a pleased, shy little grin at the declaration.
Ginny playfully tapped his chest, feigning casualness even as heat blossomed across her cheeks. "Careful, Harry Sitri," she teased softly, her voice trembling slightly with barely-concealed excitement. "That almost sounded like you're staking your claim in public."
Harry leaned closer, his breath hot against the shell of her ear. "Maybe I am," he purred teasingly, his voice dripping with sensual promise. "You don't seem to mind."
Ginny gave him one last mischievous smile and reluctantly stepped away, forcing herself to turn and walk back across the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room toward her brothers.
Even now, she could still feel Harry's gaze burning into her back, his eyes tracing every subtle sway of her hips beneath her snug-fitting jeans.
Fred, George, and Ron were sprawled comfortably around one of the low tables near the fireplace. Ron had two separate wizarding chess boards in front of him, moving pieces expertly and casually demolishing both twins simultaneously.
Ginny approached quietly, hesitating for a moment to appreciate how much better Ron looked now. St. Mugos really worked miracles with him.
"Hey," she began softly, drawing her brothers' attention toward her. "Listen, I've asked Harry to help us find Dad. He and his family have… resources that can help. Mum's really worried." She didn't mention anything about devils or contracted witches to her brothers. Not yet.
Ron looked up from his chess boards and frowned thoughtfully. "I still think it's nothing serious," he muttered, reaching out lazily to slide his knight across the board. "You know how intense Mum can be. Maybe Dad finally cracked and decided he just needed a little time alone. Merlin knows I'd want a break, too."
Fred and George exchanged sly, mischievous glances, their faces lighting up with barely-suppressed laughter.
"Or," Fred drawled theatrically, leaning back with exaggerated thoughtfulness, "perhaps dear old Dad seduced some attractive new intern at the Ministry—"
"—and they ran off to a romantic tropical island together," George concluded with a wicked grin.
Fred leaned forward eagerly, dramatically cupping his chin. "I wonder what his opening line would be. Maybe something irresistible about his thrilling collection of Muggle trinkets?"
"Oh, I've got it," George added enthusiastically, grinning widely. "He probably leaned in close and whispered, 'Ever seen a man with an impressive collection of rubber ducks, love?' Instant panty-dropper, that."
Ginny rolled her eyes in exasperation, shaking her head at their nonsense. "Honestly, you two," she scolded mildly, though a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth despite herself. "Our father is many things, but a romantic seducer isn't exactly one of them."
George shrugged helplessly, grinning. "You never know, Ginny. Stranger things have happened."
She laughed softly, shaking her head again. "I suppose Ron could be right. Maybe Dad just needed a few days without Mum hovering around him constantly. But still—he's never been gone this long without a word before. And with everything going on lately, I just—" She hesitated, swallowing back the anxiety that suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. Her voice dropped, becoming soft and more fragile. "I just need to know he's safe."
Fred's expression softened at her worried tone. He reached out, gently ruffling Ginny's fiery hair affectionately. "Hey, it's gonna be alright, little sis. Dad's probably just lost somewhere having an argument with a toaster or something."
George nodded in agreement, gently nudging her shoulder. "Yeah, don't fret too much, Gin. And besides," he added with a sly, mischievous grin, clearly attempting to lighten the mood again, "what kind of scandalous payment did you promise to pay the illustrious Harry Sitri for his invaluable assistance? Merlin knows none of us have a single Galleon to spare."
Fred smirked wickedly. "Careful, Ginny, Harry's a famous hero now—his favors can't be cheap. Tell me you didn't promise him something deliciously inappropriate."
Ginny's cheeks flamed bright crimson, her heart hammering furiously in embarrassment. "Fred!" she gasped, scandalized but secretly amused.
Ron rolled his eyes, glaring at his brothers. "Lay off, you tossers. Harry's her friend, and Ginny wouldn't trade sexual favors for his help—"
Ginny's blush deepened even further, and she quickly turned away, embarrassed and annoyed that that was exactly what she had done. Although she'd have slept with Harry for free, so it wasn't like this actually changed her relationship with him at all.
She stammered softly, unable to completely hide her bashful reaction. "Oh, shut it, all of you."
Fred laughed warmly, squeezing her shoulder affectionately. "Relax, sis, we're only joking. Mostly." He exchanged a wink with George, before finally relenting and standing up to stretch dramatically.
"We'll let you know if we hear anything from Dad. And thanks for talking to Harry, Gin. Really," George added sincerely.
Ginny nodded gratefully, turning back to glance briefly toward Harry. He was sitting by the fireplace now, conversing quietly with his bishop, Hermione, but even from here she could feel his attention drifting back to her periodically.
Her heart clenched softly again. Whatever had happened to her father, she trusted Harry implicitly—trusted him to protect her, to find answers.
– Harry –
Later that afternoon, I found myself walking leisurely down the castle halls toward the Muggle Studies classroom, unable to suppress the broad grin spreading slowly across my face.
Just the thought of Lilja—my fierce, beautiful Valkyrie—had my heart quickening and my stomach tightening pleasantly. It had only been a few days since I'd asked her to become my Queen, and she'd accepted without hesitation. That incredible moment in the shower still lingered vividly in my mind.
She wasn't officially my Queen yet, of course.
Lilja had insisted on sending formal messages back to her own pantheon first, mostly so Lord Odin and her sister, Rossweisse, wouldn't assume she'd been kidnapped by devils or forced into anything against her will.
Politics and protocol were tedious things, but for her sake I endured the wait.
Turning the corner toward the classroom, I approached the door, ready to knock politely, when raised voices on the other side suddenly stopped me in my tracks. My curiosity flared instantly.
I recognized Professor Lupin's voice, tight with disbelief and amazement. "I can't believe it's really you! Does—does Harry know? Merlin's beard, how is this even possible?" Lupin sounded both shocked and excited.
There was a brief pause before Lilja's voice floated through clearly in reply. "Magic truly is extraordinary, Remus… Some things transcend life and death."
My brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing my mind. How exactly did Lilja know Professor Lupin?
I knew I shouldn't eavesdrop—after all, it was incredibly rude—but their conversation pulled at me, impossible to ignore. Carefully stepping closer, I pressed my ear to the sturdy wooden door and strained my hearing.
Remus's voice dropped quieter, almost conspiratorial. "If you're back… then, do you think HE could've returned as well?"
Lilja scoffed dismissively, her voice turning suddenly cold, sharper than I'd ever heard her speak before. "Even if he has returned, Remus, I couldn't care less. Especially not after what he did back then…."
I blinked, startled by the venom in her voice.
Lupin sighed softly, his tone wistful and filled with nostalgic longing. "I suppose you're right. Still, part of me misses the old days. Those were simpler times. I miss all my friends, they were my pack…"
Lilja's tone softened noticeably. "You really must stop living in the past, Remus. You deserve happiness, truly. You're a kind, compassionate man—far too kindhearted to deny yourself a better future. I'm certain happiness awaits you if you just give yourself the chance to find it."
A short silence fell, and I realized suddenly that Lilja was heading toward the door. I quickly stepped back, pretending I had just arrived, forcing a relaxed expression onto my face.
The classroom door swung open, and Lilja's eyes immediately lit up, she practically skipped forward and threw herself into my arms.
I wrapped my own tightly around her, holding her warm, lithe body close against mine. Gods, she fit so perfectly against me.
"Harry!" she laughed warmly, nuzzling affectionately into my neck, her silky red hair tickling my skin. "There you are!"
Lupin suddenly erupted into a coughing fit behind us, choking as though he'd inhaled his own tongue.
Lilja giggled softly, turning slightly to grin impishly over her shoulder at the professor. "Everything alright, Remus?" she teased playfully. "You seem a bit shocked."
Lupin stared at the two of us, gaping openly, his eyes flickering incredulously between Lilja's affectionate hold on me and my casual, possessive grip around her waist. "You two—you and Harry? Together??! The both of you are doing—stuff…?" His voice cracked slightly at the end.
"Mhm!" Lilja leaned up and planted a soft, deliberate kiss on my cheek, her warm lips lingering deliberately for a heartbeat longer than necessary. She shot Remus a wink as she pulled away. "We'll catch up more later, Remus. But seriously—think about what I said, will you?"
Lupin just nodded numbly, he still looked shocked and confused as he stood there using the door to balance himself. "Er—right, of course. See you later then, Lilja. You two, Harry."
I nodded politely to him as Lilja took my hand and tugged me gently out into the hallway. Her soft palm fit perfectly against mine naturally as we walked slowly away from the classroom.
Once we were several paces down the hall, I glanced sideways at her curiously. "So, you and Professor Lupin know each other pretty well then?"
Lilja hesitated, biting her full bottom lip nervously. "I promise—I will tell you everything today. No more secrets…"
….
Walking up the white marble steps of Sitri Bank, I still had a moment where my brain wanted to call it Gringotts out of habit.
The signage helped kill that instinct pretty fast.
The old crooked gold letters that had once screamed GRINGOTTS were gone. In their place, SITRI BANK was spelled out beneath in clean silver script. Someone had even added a tasteful little tagline in smaller letters:
"Fair Rates. Transparent Fees. No Goblins allowed!"
Serafall's sense of humor, right there at the end.
On either side of the entrance, two mid-class devils stood in formal dark suits. As soon as I hit the top step, both of them straightened. The man inclined his head.
"Lord Harry," he said, voice deep and respectful.
"Morning," I said easily, giving them both a nod as we passed. "It seems slow today."
"For now," the man replied.
"Shame," I muttered under my breath. "I want to see someone try and rob this place. Make things more exciting!"
Lilja snorted softly, elbow brushing my arm. We stepped through the wide glass doors and into the main hall. The difference from the last time I'd been here hit me like a physical thing.
Gringotts had always felt stuffy and hostile. The goblins would glare at you like your mere existence would sully their gray-tinted dreary hallways.
Sitri Bank was…not that.
The ceiling was still high and arched, but someone had added enchanted skylights that poured down a warm, soft daylight glow even though London outside was its usual overcast gray. Walls that had once been bare, oppressive stone were now clad in pale marble veined with hints of blue, and between each pair of pillars a slim waterfall ran from ceiling to floor into narrow channels in the tiled floor, feeding a central circular pool that dominated the hall.
And the staff…yeah. That had changed a lot too.
Where once rows of goblin tellers had glared down at wizards from their brass cages, there were now open counters staffed with beautiful devil women and handsome men in sharp suits and silky blouses. Perfect hair, perfect skin, bright smiles.
The customers, of course, just thought Sitri Bank hired aggressively beautiful people.
A fat old wizard at the nearest counter certainly did.
He was standing far too close to a blonde teller in a slim blue blouse, leaning on the counter with his gut straining his waistcoat. His thinning hair was slicked back, and he was puffed up with the kind of confidence only rich idiots ever managed.
"So what do you say, my dear?" he was wheezing, voice oily. "Perhaps after your shift, we could…ah…discuss interest rates over a bottle of imported wine? I have a private cellar, you know. Very exclusive."
His wife was literally right next to him by the way…
If looks could kill, her glare would have put Voldemort's Killing Curses to shame.
The teller smiled politely, the very picture of professional calm. She might have looked like a pretty 20-something barely out of school young woman, but I had no doubt she was well trained and probably hundreds of years old.
"Sitri Bank policy forbids us from socializing with customers during or immediately after working hours, sir," she said, tone gentle and apologetic. "But I'd be happy to look over your accounts with your wife present and discuss any adjustments you feel are necessary."
The wife's eyes lit up.
The old wizard visibly deflated and finally noticed he was probably sleeping on the couch tonight. "No, no, that…ah…that won't be necessary."
Lilja huffed a laugh beside me.
We walked through the hall at an easy pace. At the end of the main hall, beyond the fountain, a broad staircase led up to my grandmother's office. We stopped in front of a desk.
"Lord Harry, Lady Lilja," her secretary said warmly. Her voice was professional, but there was an edge of genuine fondness there too. "Lady Selene is expecting you. She asked me to send you straight in when you arrived..."
Grandmother Selene Sitri didn't usually handle bank operations personally—her hands were far too busy managing our clan's vast business empire in the Underworld—but today was special. This meeting wasn't just for me. More precisely, it was for Lilja.
As my chosen Queen, it was protocol for Lilja to meet the current matriarch of our clan before officially assuming her role. My grandmother needed to approve her, ensure her worthiness as my peerage's new leader whenever I wasn't directly commanding the group.
Thankfully, the rest of my peerage already adored Lilja and wholeheartedly supported my decision.
With a reassuring squeeze to Lilja's hand, I pushed open the office door and stepped inside.
The first thing my eyes fell upon was my grandmother, Selene Sitri.
As always, the resemblance between her and Sona was undeniable. Selene was slightly taller than Sona, her figure a touch more voluptuous.
"Harry, darling!" Her face lit up the moment she saw me.
I barely had time to smile back before something pink and uncontained launched at me from the side.
"Harryyyyyy!"
Serafall was here too I guess. My mother hit me like a guided missile. One moment I was taking a step toward the desk, the next my back was pressed to the inside of the now-closed door and I had an armful of overexcited Satan.
Her arms locked around my neck, her legs almost came up around my waist on instinct, and her chest—barely contained by a pink top and scandalously short pink magical girl skirt combo—squashed up against my ribs.
"You're here, you're here!" she squealed, then without the slightest pause she grabbed my jaw between her hands and dragged my mouth down to hers.
The kiss wasn't motherly. Her lips crashed into mine with zero hesitation, opening at once. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, hot and greedy. She made a needy little sound in her throat and pressed harder, her body molding to mine like she was trying to climb inside my skin.
Her hands slid into my hair, fingers threading deep, holding me in place as she kissed me like we were alone in her bedroom, not in her mother's office.
I responded on autopilot. My arms tightened around her waist, one hand sliding down over the curve of her ass, feeling the give of soft flesh under the skirt. She bucked her hips against mine faintly at the touch and deepened the kiss, tongue stroking against mine, her chest heaving against me.
Somewhere behind us, someone cleared their throat. Politely.
Serafall didn't give a shit.
She broke the kiss once, only long enough to gasp in a breath and pant against my lips, eyes shining and unfocused, then dove back in, kissing me again, slower this time but just as filthy. Her nails scratched lightly against my scalp as she kissed me, her body rocking faintly in my arms.
I finally got enough air and self-control back to pull away a fraction, resting my forehead against hers, both of us breathing hard.
"Hi, mum," I muttered, voice rough.
"Hi, baby," she murmured, eyes half-lidded and happy, lips kiss-swollen. She pecked me one more time, softer, then finally seemed to remember there were other people in the room. "Oh! Right! Meeting. Formal, serious, grown-up meeting… BORING!"
Her legs slid back down until her heels touched the floor. She stepped back a half-step but didn't actually let go of me, her hand still resting low on my back, thumb brushing occasional circles at the top of my ass like she had no concept of "appropriate."
Behind us, Lilja's aura was a restrained flare of hot embarrassment and jealousy. I felt it more than I saw it.
Selene, of course, looked amused. "Are you quite finished embarrassing yourself in front of your son's future queen, Serafall?"
Serafall turned, still clinging to my side, and stuck her tongue out at her mother. "Jealous, Mama~?" she sing-songed. "You should get your own Harry, this one is mine."
"I have a husband along with a small personal harem of my own, I'm perfectly happy," Selene said.
I watched with growing embarrassment and mild apprehension as Serafall finally—reluctantly—untangled herself from me. Her slender fingers brushed lingeringly down my chest as she stepped back, her eyes flicked sideways toward Lilja. Then she tilted her head slightly, squinting curiously at my Valkyrie queen-in-waiting as though seeing something strange.
"You know," Serafall mused, slowly stepping closer to Lilja with an expression of genuine curiosity that somehow managed to seem completely innocent despite the intensity of her stare. "You seem awfully familiar, dear."
Lilja stiffened slightly, visibly nervous under Serafall's inquisitive gaze. Her eyes widened fractionally, emerald irises darkening with a swirl of barely concealed anxiety. "Ah…do I?" she murmured softly, offering a hesitant smile. "Perhaps we've crossed paths whenever you came to Asgard for diplomatic meetings?"
"No, no, it's not just a passing resemblance…" Serafall replied thoughtfully, inching even closer. She raised one delicate hand slowly, reaching forward and—before I could even form the protest dying in my throat—casually grasped one of Lilja's full, perky breasts through her snug-fitting witch's robes.
My mouth opened wordlessly, heat surging immediately into my face and other distinctly less noble areas at the unexpected sight. I really should have intervened immediately, but my traitorous body seemed rooted to the spot.
I loved my mother, I really did, but she had absolutely no concept of boundaries when it came to "his cute peerage members" or "Harry's girls." Devil culture was pretty relaxed about touchy-feely affection at the best of times. I knew Serafall could be…aggressively affectionate toward my peerage members, especially once they'd officially become devils and gained our kind's liberal views on intimacy, but Lilja hadn't yet gone through that particular transition!
"Hmm," Serafall murmured thoughtfully, completely ignoring my mortified reaction as she gave Lilja's breast an experimental squeeze, her slender fingers sinking slightly into the soft, yielding flesh. "These lovely, soft booby textures… yes, I've definitely felt these before…" Her other hand rose up, delicately cupping and kneading Lilja's other breast as well, clearly lost in deep consideration of their exact weight and feel.
Lilja's lips parted in shock, an involuntary gasp escaping her throat. Her body jerked slightly, a shudder visibly rippling down her spine. To my astonishment—and undeniable arousal—a small, breathy moan slipped from her lips before she quickly clamped a trembling hand over her mouth, cheeks flushing scarlet.
Serafall finally seemed to register Lilja's reaction, pulling her hands back with an expression that was half surprise, half playful triumph. She glanced down at her own hands with fascination, flexing her slender fingers slowly. "Ooh, now that brings back memories," she mumbled to herself with an oddly serious air. "A very specific softness, I must say…"
Across the room, my grandmother cleared her throat pointedly, arching an elegant eyebrow at Serafall with an exasperated look. "Serafall, darling, perhaps you could avoid groping our guest without permission? It's incredibly rude."
"Oops!" Serafall giggled sheepishly, flashing Lilja an apologetic grin, but she still looked oddly pleased with herself. "Sorry, sweetie, couldn't help myself! Your chest felt soooo familiar, I just had to investigate thoroughly."
Lilja shot her a weak glare, cheeks still flushed scarlet, embarrassment warring openly with something approaching amusement. Her emerald eyes met mine, filled with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher—nervousness, longing, and something deeper still.
Slowly, she let her hand drop from her mouth, releasing a shaky breath.
"Actually, Lady Serafall," Lilja murmured softly, her voice quivering faintly, "we have met before—or rather, you met the woman I was before."
Serafall tilted her head inquisitively, a slight frown marring her delicate features. "Before?" she echoed curiously, confusion evident. Serafall's head snapped up, eyes widening. "Oooooh," she said, dragging the sound out, face brightening suddenly. "That would make sense. Right, right, right—valkyries, reincarnation of battle maidens, blah blah—" She froze mid-ramble. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she really looked at Lilja's face. The line of her jaw. The shape of her mouth. The exact shade of her hair where the light hit it. She took one slow step closer again, squinting like she was overlaying an old memory over what she saw. Then she pointed, jabbing a finger at Lilja's nose. "Holy fuck," she breathed. "It's you!"
Lilja flinched, almost imperceptibly. "Yes…"
"Really?!" Serafall squealed a heartbeat later, all composure crumbling. "It's you it's you it's you?! THAT'S AMAZING!"
She launched herself forward again, but this time it wasn't hands-on-tits. She wrapped her arms around Lilja's shoulders and hauled her into a full-body hug, practically smothering her. Lilja let out a startled "oof" and staggered, then caught herself, arms half-lifting like she couldn't decide whether to hug back or struggle.
Serafall didn't give her much choice. She squeezed like she was trying to fuse them, bouncing on her toes with pure, explosive joy. Her breasts mashed against Lilja's chest, her leg hooked briefly around Lilja's calf in her enthusiasm. The two of them bounced in place and I had to look away for half a second because the combined jiggle was doing terrible things to my brain.
Across the room, Selene's lips twitched. "I take it you've confirmed your suspicion," she said dryly.
I glanced at her helplessly. "What suspicion?" I demanded. "Mum, what the hell is going on?"
Serafall finally remembered I existed. She loosened her hold enough for Lilja to breathe, though she still kept their bodies pressed together, hands resting low on Lilja's back.
Lilja cleared her throat softly. "Serafall," she murmured, looking up at her with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, "maybe let me go so I can… explain?"
"If I must," Serafall pouted, but she did release her, stepping back with obvious reluctance. With a Maou's strength she could've held a mountain in place, the fact she let Lilja go at all told me how seriously she was taking whatever this was.
Lilja smoothed her robes automatically, taking a small step closer to me. I could feel the tremor in her magic from here, the way it curled and twisted. She met my eyes, and there was so much in that look—fear, hope, guilt, longing—that my chest ached.
"Harry," she began quietly. "I told you before that Valkyries are… We're not born the way most beings are." She drew in a steadying breath. "We are the reincarnation of maidens who died in battle. Every Valkyrie was once human—or something else. Most don't remember their past lives, but some do. Some like me…"
Selene watched her with sharp interest, but didn't interrupt. Serafall had gone strangely still for her, eyes soft, almost reverent.
Lilja's fingers curled at her sides. "When I died," she continued, voice soft but steady now, "I was very young. Barely out of school. I died protecting someone I loved more than anything. Odin and the Norns chose that moment to… pluck my soul from the cycle and reforge me as what you see now."
"Lilja…" I said slowly. "Who were you?"
She held my gaze like it hurt. Her throat worked as she swallowed. "In my previous incarnation," she said, every word tasting like blood and confession, "my name was Lily Evans."
I turned my head, slow as stone, to look at Serafall.
She was beaming at me. "Isn't it great?" she chirped. "You found her again, Harry!"
"Oh," I heard myself say faintly. "Oh. That's… that's… huh."
My vision tunneled. Selene started to move toward me, but her voice came from the end of a long corridor.
"Harry," she said sharply. "Breathe—"
I tried.
Lilja—Lily—took a half-step toward me, hand lifting like she wanted to touch me and was afraid to. "Harry," she whispered, terrified now. "Please don't—"
My eyes rolled back in my head. The last thing I saw was Serafall's delighted face, Lilja's panicked one behind it, and the white ceiling rushing up to meet me as my legs finally gave out and I fainted like a complete fucking idiot.
– Lilja –
Lilja sat quietly on the plush, leather-upholstered couch in Selene Sitri's office, feeling the comforting weight of Harry's head nestled in her lap. She'd carefully hiked her skirt up slightly, allowing his head to rest comfortably upon the warm, silky skin of her bare thighs. Her fingers threaded tenderly through his tousled dark hair, combing it back gently in an affectionate, soothing rhythm as she watched his sleeping face, her emerald eyes filled with quiet tenderness and anxious hope.
Harry looked peaceful for now, at least—his breathing deep and even, his handsome features relaxed in the stillness of unconsciousness. Lilja sighed softly, brushing a thumb carefully over the curve of his jawline, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment despite the circumstances.
Nearby, Selene broke the lingering silence with a gentle sigh, leaning back against the polished edge of her heavy oak desk, one eyebrow arching elegantly as she watched her grandson sleep. "Well," the matriarch murmured dryly, a faint smile curling her lips, "that certainly could have gone smoother."
Serafall—perched casually on the edge of the same desk—giggled lightly as she lazily swung her slender legs back and forth beneath her tight pinkskirt. "Honestly, you hardly ever see people faint like that in real life. It's usually just something you see in anime or, you know—my TV show," she remarked cheerfully. "It makes for great dramatic cliffhangers!"
Lilja huffed a quiet laugh despite herself and looked back down at him. Her thumb traced the faint line of his temple, brushing a smear of dried sweat away.
Serafall slid off the desk and sauntered closer, hips swaying just because she could. She stopped in front of the couch, hands on her hips, eyes flicking from Harry's face to Lilja's bare thighs with unhidden interest. Then she smiled—softly this time, genuinely. "But I am happy you're not dead," she added, voice gentle beneath the teasing.
Lilja rolled her eyes, though her chest warmed at that. "Lily Evans is dead," she said, quietly but firmly. Saying it always felt like pushing a door closed with her own hands. "I'm Lilja Nornas now. A proud Valkyrie of Asgard. I have an actual loving older sister in this life," she added, giving Serafall a sideways look. "And soon I will be Harry's Queen." Her gaze dropped back to his face. Her fingernails lightly scraped his scalp in a soothing rhythm. "If he still wants me," she finished, the last words slipping out more uncertain than she liked.
Serafall's expression softened immediately.
"Of course he still wants you," Serafall reassured warmly, voice gentle but brimming with unshakable certainty. She leaned forward eagerly, her generous breasts straining provocatively against the snug material of her blouse as she flashed Lilja a conspiratorial grin. "Trust me, Lilja—I know how much my Harry loves me. I guarantee he'll love you just as deeply." Serafall's smile turned wicked. "In more ways than one, obviously~!"
Lilja felt heat bloom fiercely across her cheeks, her emerald eyes widening in embarrassed surprise. Her gaze flicked instinctively downward toward Harry's peacefully sleeping face. "Actually," she confessed quietly, almost shyly, "we... we haven't gotten that far yet. We haven't slept together, Serafall."
They had only fooled around that one time in the woods and then more recently in the shower.
"What?!" Serafall gasped dramatically, her eyes widening in exaggerated scandal. She looked genuinely affronted, lips curving downward in a playful pout as she folded her slender arms indignantly beneath her impressive chest. "You two haven't done it yet either? Merlin's balls! Hehe—I love that phrase, it's funny… But seriously, neither have Harry and I! People keep interrupting every damn time I get close!" she whined with mock frustration, glaring accusingly over her shoulder at Selene.
Selene exhaled through her nose, the long-suffering sound of a woman who'd spent centuries raising a Serafall and somehow still loved her.
"Don't look at me," Selene said. "You just have bad timing, maybe pick a time that's not an emergency. That seems to happen with you a lot…"
Reaching calmly beneath her massive oak desk, Selene withdrew a beautifully ornate glass bottle filled with rich, dark wine. Her movements were graceful and practiced as she poured three generous glasses of the expensive liquid, the sweet aroma immediately drifting through the room.
She handed the first glass delicately to Lilja, who accepted it gratefully, shifting Harry's head carefully to avoid disturbing him. Selene passed the second glass to Serafall, who accepted it enthusiastically, immediately taking an appreciative sip.
Selene raised her own glass calmly, an elegant, approving smile playing across her lips. Her eyes met Lilja's, filled with respect and genuine warmth. "Lilja," she said seriously, her voice filled with unmistakable sincerity, "to be honest, I had already approved of you as Harry's Queen long before you walked through that door today. Everything I had learned about you—your skill, your bravery, your loyalty—already made you more than worthy of standing by his side. Today's meeting was merely a formality." Her smile softened even further, filled now with an almost maternal warmth. "But after learning exactly who you were in your previous life, and that you literally sacrificed yourself once already to protect Harry... Now I am absolutely certain. There's nobody else I'd rather see at my grandson's side, protecting him and guiding him as his Queen."
A tight knot in Lilja's chest loosened a fraction. "Thank you," she said quietly. The words felt inadequate, but she didn't have anything larger in her.
– Harry –
Consciousness returned to me slowly, accompanied by a soft, gentle warmth pressed comfortably against the back of my head and the silky sensation of bare skin beneath my cheek. Blinking groggily, my eyes opened to an absolutely mesmerizing sight—one that immediately jolted me wide awake.
Above me, beneath the scandalously hiked-up hem of Lilja's skirt, was an enticingly tiny scrap of crimson-red fabric—a G-string, the thin waistband barely visible beneath the folds of her skirt.
I swallowed thickly, my heartbeat immediately accelerating, heat rushing to my face and other decidedly less honorable parts of my body as my brain struggled to process the alluring sight.
God above, what a view to wake up to…
"OW!" Yeah, that was my fault for thinking of his name.
Eh, worth it…
My cheeks burned as I tilted my head upward slightly, my gaze finally meeting Lilja's. She stared down at me, her cheeks flushed nearly as red as her panties, her green eyes wide and shyly embarrassed—but beneath that embarrassment, I glimpsed a quiet tenderness and nervous affection shining through.
"Um... Hi, Harry," she murmured softly, offering a hesitant, hopeful smile. Her fingers gently brushed through my hair again, the gesture affectionate and soothing. She bit her plush lower lip anxiously. "Welcome back…?"
Reality finally crashed into me fully as I remembered exactly why I'd fainted. Lily Evans—my mother in a past life—was now Lilja, the Valkyrie queen who had agreed to stand by my side. My mind spun momentarily as I sat up carefully, a thousand confusing emotions rushing through me at once.
I glanced sheepishly to the side, only to find both my grandmother and Serafall comfortably sprawled on the opposite end of the wide couch, holding elegant glasses filled with rich, dark wine. Both women watched us with amused, slightly tipsy expressions, their cheeks flushed lightly from alcohol as though they'd been enjoying a very entertaining performance.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, darling," Grandmother Selene remarked dryly, elegantly sipping her wine, dark eyes twinkling mischievously.
Beside her, Serafall grinned widely with delight as she giggled into her wineglass. "You looked very comfy down there, baby~!"
I sighed heavily, rubbing my hand over my face to hide the renewed blush. "Thanks for the support, you two," I muttered sarcastically, though there was no real heat behind my words. My family always found ways to embarrass me, and I should've been used to it by now.
Turning back toward Lilja, my expression softened immediately. I reached out slowly, gently taking her soft, delicate hand in mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Lilja," I began softly, my voice filled with genuine regret and sincerity, "I'm truly sorry for that reaction. Passing out on you wasn't exactly my most dignified moment…"
Lilja laughed gently, the musical sound instantly calming my frayed nerves. "It's alright, Harry. If our positions had been reversed, I might have fainted as well," she admitted, offering a shy, reassuring smile. But behind that light-hearted humor, anxiety lingered in her lovely eyes. "But…after learning about who I used to be, do you still want me? Do you still desire me as your Queen?" Her voice shook slightly with barely-concealed vulnerability.
I stared at her incredulously, warmth filling my chest as I reached up to brush a stray lock of fiery red hair tenderly behind her ear. "Lilja," I whispered earnestly, my voice thick with raw emotion, "of course I still want you. Knowing who you once were doesn't change how I feel about who you are now—my beautiful, fierce, devoted Valkyrie. I've never been more certain."
Lilja's eyes shimmered with relieved tears, her breath catching softly. She leaned closer instinctively, pressing her forehead gently against mine in a tender gesture of affection and trust. "Thank you, Harry," she breathed softly, lips curving upward into a radiant, grateful smile. "I was so worried…"
"Aww, see?" Serafall chirped delightedly from beside me, grinning triumphantly. "I knew we'd have a happy ending!"
In her enthusiastic excitement, she waved her wineglass dramatically, sloshing deep crimson liquid directly down the front of the vibrant pink magical-girl costume she'd spontaneously changed into. The wine splashed liberally over her generous breasts, droplets trailing enticingly down into her cleavage.
"Oh nooo," Serafall whined theatrically, her voice dripping with exaggerated innocence. She looked up at me with wide, pleading eyes, holding her chest forward enticingly, drawing my gaze to the lush swell of her breasts. "Harry, look—I made such a mess! Won't you help me clean up?"
I stared at her for one long second. Then I turned completely away from her like a man clinging to sanity by a single fraying thread and looked at Selene instead.
"Grandmother," I said loudly—deliberately loudly—ignoring Serafall's theatrical whining inches from my ear. "Does Lilja have our clan's approval to be my Queen?"
Selene arched an eyebrow, clearly amused at my blatant desperation to avoid getting sucked into Serafall's antics. She set her wine aside and folded her hands neatly in her lap. "Of course she does, Harry," she said warmly. "She had my approval before today—but now, knowing exactly who she was… and what she sacrificed for you… I offer my blessing fully."
Lilja inhaled sharply beside me, eyes glistening.
I reached for her hand again—this time without hesitation—and laced my fingers with hers.
Serafall flopped dramatically into the cushions beside me, pouting with a crocodile tear shimmering in one eye. "No one appreciates my suffering," she mumbled, poking at the red stain on her soaked cleavage.
Once Serafall finally gave up on trying to weaponize her wine-soaked cleavage for attention and flopped back into the cushions with a pout, the room settled into something almost like normal.
Almost.
It felt like as good a moment as any to change the subject before my mother found a new excuse to climb into someone's lap.
"So," I said, clearing my throat and leaning back into the couch, "how's running a bank going so far, Grandmother?"
Selene's expression shifted instantly from amused matriarch to exhausted CEO. She let out a long, elegant sigh and set her glass down with a quiet click. "Ah," she said dryly. "You really want to open that mess?"
Serafall snorted. "Oh, do it, Mama. Rant. I love when you rant."
Selene gave her a look that said she absolutely knew exactly what Serafall loved and wasn't impressed, then turned back to me. "In a word?" she said. "Infuriating."
"Goblins left a mess?"
At that, something sharp flashed behind her eyes. She didn't just look annoyed anymore, she looked offended on a professional level. "'Mess' is far too polite," she said, voice cooling. "Goblins are greedy, Harry. That we all knew. But they are also incredibly short-sighted and, frankly, stupid about long-term stability."
"Fuck the goblins," Serafall cut in cheerfully from my side.
Selene actually nodded. "For once, your mother and I are in perfect agreement."
Lilja huffed a surprised little laugh next to me.
"What did they do?" I asked.
Selene pushed off the edge of her seat and paced a few steps, the slit of her dress flashing a smooth line of thigh as she moved. Her heels clicked softly on the polished stone, the sound ticking off her irritation.
"Do you know what's actually in a Galleon, Harry?" she asked without looking at me.
"Gold?" I said. "Or at least it's supposed to be."
She gave a sharp little humorless laugh. "Supposed to be, yes. In reality?" She turned. "Most of what wizarding Britain has been using for the past few decades is fool's gold. A base alloy with a laughably thin layer of real gold and a charm to fake the density. On a metallurgical level, your national currency is garbage."
I blinked. "You're kidding."
"Unfortunately, no." Selene's lips thinned. "When we seized Gringotts, I ordered a full audit. So we have secretly been replacing all the currency that enters our bank with newly minted gold coins…."
"Can you afford to do that?" Lilja asked, with genuine curiosity in her voice. "Replacing an entire nation's coinage with actual gold sounds…astronomically expensive."
That got a different kind of smile out of both Sitri women.
"My dear Lilja," Selene said, warmth back in her tone, "we are the Sitri Clan."
"We have mountains of gold," Serafall added, spreading her arms wide as if embracing an invisible hoard. "Literal mountains. Back home, gold is just…a building material. We use it for trim. For bathtubs. For stupidly extravagant sex dungeons."
"Mother," I groaned.
"What?" she said innocently. "You'll see them all eventually."
Of course there was more than one golden sex dungeon…
Selene chuckled softly. "Point being," she continued, "We can afford it..." Selene let the amusement fade and studied me with that sharper, assessing gaze again. "Was there anything else you needed from me today, Harry?" she asked. "Beyond reassurance that your grandchildren's grandchildren won't live through a currency collapse. And keep in mind that we are devils so it could be 10,000 years before you meet them with our terrible fertility rates…."
"Yeah," I sat up a bit straighter. "Actually, there is something else I need help with while I'm here. I took on a contract, a personal one. From my contracted witch—Ginny Weasley. Her father's missing," I continued. "Arthur Weasley. He hasn't been home, hasn't written, and hasn't answered any owls. According to Ginny, that's…not normal for him. He might not be the most organized guy in the world, but he doesn't ghost his own family. Her brothers think he just ran off for a breather," I added with a snort. "Maybe he's taking a temporary escape from a nagging wife, but she doesn't think that's the case."
"Now that," Selene said, nodding once, "is something Sitri Bank can assist with."
Serafall hopped up at once, all pouting forgotten. "Ooh, investigation time!" she chirped. "I love investigations. They're like puzzles you can punch! My show's next season should be a big mystery arc!"
Selene crossed to her desk. A section of the inlaid stone flared with blue light, a circular pane rising from the surface—half mirror, half glass screen, runes crawling lazily along its edges. "Every vault holder in old Gringotts is now a Sitri client, whether they realize it or not," she said. "Their account histories came with the acquisition. If Arthur Weasley is alive and acting under his own will, the odds are high he's used his accounts in the last few days. Otherwise he'd have a very poor little vacation…."
….
Lilja and I stepped out of Sitri Bank into Diagon Alley.
"A man doesn't leave his family without taking any money with him, Harry," Lilja murmured softly, her fingers tightening gently around mine. "Especially not for over a week. I knew him—back in the Order of the Phoenix during the war. He wasn't that kind of man."
She pressed closer as we walked, leaning her head lightly against my shoulder.
I squeezed her hand gently in silent agreement, exhaling slowly. "Yeah," I said quietly. "I know. Arthur wouldn't abandon his family willingly—he loves them."
Lilja sighed, lifting her head slightly, eyes searching my face with quiet worry. I glanced down, caught briefly by the delicate beauty of her emerald eyes reflecting the evening's golden glow.
"Harry," she said softly, "this isn't going to be easy for Ginny, is it?"
I shook my head slowly. "Not even a little," I admitted quietly. "I made her a promise that I'd find her father. Now I'll have to tell her…I think something terrible might've happened. Telling her that is going to hurt."
Lilja's expression softened. "It will," she agreed gently, "but Ginny deserves your honesty. She trusts you. Be there for her, comfort her. She'll understand."
I smiled faintly, grateful for Lilja's gentle wisdom. She understood me perfectly, even my worries. I turned slightly, pressing a lingering, tender kiss to her forehead. "I will," I promised softly. "Thank you."
Lilja smiled softly, a faint blush coloring her pale cheeks as she squeezed my hand. Then she looked down the street, a curious sparkle suddenly lighting her gaze.
"Wait…Harry, is that—Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour?" she asked suddenly, a nostalgic warmth creeping into her voice.
I followed her gaze. A cheerful little shop stood a few storefronts down, warm lantern-light glowing invitingly through wide, crystal-clear windows. Bright umbrellas shaded the outdoor seating, the cheerful chatter of witches and wizards enjoying ice cream carried easily through the crisp autumn air.
"Yeah," I answered, slightly amused by her sudden excitement. "Why?"
Lilja's smile widened, eyes shining with unexpected excitement. "I haven't been there in… twenty years," she admitted quietly, shyly tucking a strand of crimson hair behind one ear. "The last time was…" she paused, eyes briefly distant, "well, the summer before my…before I died."
Understanding dawned gently between us, and I squeezed her fingers again softly. "Then I suppose," I said gently, smiling down at her, "that we definitely need to get you some ice cream."
Lilja smiled gratefully, cheeks pink as we headed down the alley toward the shop.
A few moments later, we sat at one of the outdoor tables beneath a vibrant blue umbrella, savoring our ice creams. Lilja had ordered something absurdly sweet and overloaded with strawberries and whipped cream. I'd stuck with a classic chocolate. She practically purred as she took her first bite, eyes sliding shut in pure, nostalgic bliss.
"Oh gods, Harry," she moaned softly, licking whipped cream delicately from her spoon. "I'd forgotten how incredible this tasted."
I chuckled softly at her enthusiasm, leaning back slightly, spoon lingering at my lips. "Glad you're enjoying yourself," I teased affectionately.
Her eyes flicked open, sparkling with playful accusation. "Don't mock me, Harry Sitri," she scolded mildly, pointing her spoon threateningly. "Or I'll eat yours too!"
I laughed quietly again, but the momentary smile slipped a bit…
"Lilja," I began carefully, voice lowering slightly, "about Arthur… I'm pretty sure I already know the answer, even without definitive proof. I'm convinced something terrible has already happened."
Lilja's playful expression immediately faded, her smile faltering softly as concern replaced it. "You're certain?" she asked quietly.
I nodded grimly. "Arthur loved his family dearly. If he hasn't reached out—if he's disappeared completely—it's likely he's already…" I hesitated, swallowing past the tightness in my throat, "…dead."
"Yes," a deep, authoritative voice suddenly interrupted from my left. "He is!"
Startled, I snapped my gaze sideways. An older man sat calmly in the previously empty chair beside us, his long white hair and beard framing a strikingly weathered face. A black eye patch covered one eye, but the remaining brilliant blue eye regarded me calmly, gleaming with intelligence and cunning.
Lilja froze stiffly across from me, her spoon halfway to her mouth, eyes wide in stunned apprehension. Her entire posture had shifted from relaxed enjoyment to rigid formality.
"Lord Odin," she whispered breathlessly, setting her spoon down with a faint clink. Her tone was a complex mix of reverence, surprise, and subtle nervousness. "I… I certainly wasn't expecting to see you here in Britain."
The older man chuckled as he leaned back casually in his chair, steepling his fingers together thoughtfully. "Well, my dear Lilja," Odin replied smoothly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips beneath his impressive beard, "of course I'd come personally when one of my two most promising Valkyries informs me she plans to… resign." Lilja's cheeks flushed deeply at his pointed emphasis, but before she could reply, Odin turned slightly, glancing casually over his shoulder. "Isn't that right, Rossweisse?"
My head turned instinctively toward the direction he was looking, and I noticed the striking woman standing a short distance away.
She was utterly captivating—a perfect, ethereal beauty. Her long silver hair cascaded smoothly over slender shoulders, framing a flawless face currently set in a firm, displeased pout directed squarely at Lilja. Her attire was professional yet distinctly provocative, a tight-fitting secretary outfit that hugged generous curves perfectly—curves that, incredibly, seemed even more pronounced than Lilja's.
The material clung distractingly to her impressive bust and narrow waist, drawing my attention despite my best intentions. She exhaled quietly, her eyes briefly meeting mine, assessing, before she strode confidently toward us.
Pulling out the chair opposite Odin, she sat elegantly, crossing her long, slender legs smoothly. "Hello, Lilja," Rossweisse said coolly, though beneath her stern tone I detected a faint, affectionate resignation. "So. You're leaving us, are you?"
Lilja's blush deepened, and she glanced downward sheepishly. "Hello, big sister," she murmured softly, her voice quiet and almost childlike with embarrassment. "I… I didn't think Lord Odin would trouble himself with my decision in person."
Odin chuckled again, clearly amused by her discomfort. "Oh, nonsense. Such a matter deserves my personal attention. After all, it's not every day a valkyrie as exceptional as you decides to leave her post and become Queen of a devil's peerage." His single eye drifted slowly toward me, sharp and penetrating. "Harry Sitri," Odin addressed me directly, his tone casual but holding a hint of warning, "Lilja here has always been one of my favorites, an irreplaceable asset. Replacing her will be nearly impossible…"
Odin's one good eye was on me, and I hated how much it made my stomach knot.
Up close he didn't look like some cartoon grandpa. There was an easy, casual power sitting in his shoulders and the way he held himself in that chair, like he could flatten the entire alley and then complain about the mess.
No pressure. I swallowed, my hand tightening around Lilja's under the table.
Rossweisse's gaze swung from Odin to her sister. Up close, she was even more ridiculous. Her breasts strained against the buttons when she crossed her arms, and my traitor eyes kept trying to drift lower, which was absolutely the wrong focus to have in front of a literal god.
"So," Rossweisse said, voice cool and sharp as a knife edge. "Lilja. Is this truly what you want?"
Lilja straightened in her seat like she was on trial, shoulders going back. I felt the little tremor that went through her hand, even while her face settled into that calm, serene Valkyrie expression.
She drew in a slow breath, held it for a heartbeat, then exhaled. "Yes," she said, voice steady. "This is what I want." Her fingers tightened in mine again, and this time she didn't look away from Rossweisse when she said it. "I've served Asgard well," she continued, "and I'm grateful for the life I was given. But Harry Sitri is everything to me. I love him. I've chosen him as my King, as my partner. I intend to stand at his side as his Queen for as long as I live."
My chest thumped hard at that. Odin's eyebrow twitched. Rossweisse's lips pressed into a thin line.
"And you understand," Rossweisse said slowly, "what that means. Leaving your post. Leaving our halls. Leaving me."
"Of course I understand," Lilja answered, softer this time. Her eyes flicked to her sister, and a little of the warrior composure cracked, something raw and vulnerable bleeding through. "But I'm not abandoning you, big sister. I'm just… moving." She smiled, small and wry. "And it's not as if doors between realms are closed. I'll visit. You can visit."
Rossweisse turned her head and watched me in silence for a long heartbeat. Then she looked back at Lilja. "Is this truly what you want?" she asked again, softer this time.
Lilja nodded once. "Yes. He's the man I've chosen."
Something in Rossweisse's expression shifted at that. The stern, older-sister mask stayed on for half a second more… then she slowly bit her lower lip.
I tensed. Some instinct screamed that that tiny little movement was a very bad omen for something yet to come.
Beside me, Odin gave this low, rumbling chuckle. "Wait for it," he murmured, and then he started eating his own ice cream sundae.
Wait—where did he even get that?
And what were we waiting for?
Rossweisse's eyes suddenly went shiny. Moisture collected along her lashes. Her mouth trembled.
"Ross—?" Lilja started cautiously.
In the span of a breath, Rossweisse's whole composure changed from intimidating valkyrie big sister to something else. Her shoulders hunched, her face crumpled, and she sucked in a huge, wobbly breath. And then she exploded into loud, ugly sobbing!
"WAAAAHHHHH!" she wailed, throwing her head back. "MY BABY SISTER FOUND A MAN BEFORE I DID!"
Half the parlor turned at the sheer volume. Odin took a calm bite of his ice cream like this was a normal Tuesday. "She's doing it again," he said with a sigh…
Rossweisse slammed both hands on the table as if she needed leverage to cry even harder. "That makes me the last single Valkyrie!" she bawled, fat tears rolling down her cheeks in torrents. "Every other battle maiden has at least been on a date! And now Lilja has a King and a ring and a future and I—I'm going to be a virgin spinster forever!"
Her voice went up half an octave on "virgin spinster."
I stared. People were actually flinching. At the next table over, a wide-eyed little boy tugged on his mum's sleeve. "Mum," he asked loudly, "what's a virgin spinster?"
His mother turned beet red. She shot our table a glare sharp enough to shave wood, clapped a hand over her son's mouth, and bundled him up and away in a flurry of offended huffing.
She wasn't the only one reacting. Conversation in the shop died in waves. A pair of young witches at the far counter grabbed their cones and bolted for the door. A cluster of older wizards in Ministry robes awkwardly pretended not to stare as they edged sideways out of the shop as well.
Even Florean behind the counter hesitated with his scoop halfway buried in a tub, eyes darting between us and the window like he was considering escaping from his own business.
Rossweisse doubled down.
"Nobody wants me!" she howled, tears streaming like waterfalls. Mascara ran in black tracks down her cheeks, giving her the tragic raccoon look. "I work all the time, and this is my reward?! Younger sisters finding love before me, and I'm left with expense reports and a vibrator that keeps running out of batteries—"
"Rossweisse," Odin cut in mildly. "That was maybe too much information…"
She slapped both hands over her mouth, eyes going huge. Then she just started crying harder into her palms, shoulders shaking.
What the actual fuck was happening?
I glanced helplessly at Lilja. She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long, suffering sigh like she'd been waiting for this. "She's always been like this," Lilja muttered, voice low enough only I and Odin probably heard. "Every time someone in the Valkyrie ranks gets engaged. Every time…."
Rossweisse sniffled wetly, pulled her hands away just enough to peer at Lilja, and then pointed at me accusingly with a trembling finger.
"And look at him!" she wailed. "Rich! Handsome! Stupid pretty eyes! It's not fair that my baby sister got such a good boyfriend before me!"
...Lilja kept attempting to soothe her sobbing older sister, gently stroking Rossweisse's silver hair while murmuring soft reassurances. Rossweisse clung to Lilja's waist desperately, her face buried in Lilja's chest, shoulders heaving violently with each dramatic sob that escaped her trembling lips.
The situation had escalated so absurdly fast that my head was spinning.
I turned toward Odin, incredulity and bewilderment battling openly on my face. "Lord Odin, what the actual fuck is happening right now?"
The ancient god raised his one good eyebrow, giving me a bored look that suggested he'd watched this exact spectacle far too many times before. "Don't worry yourself overmuch, boy," he drawled, lifting his spoon calmly from the towering ice cream sundae that had appeared out of thin air in front of him. "This is fairly standard procedure when another Valkyrie gets hitched. Rossweisse will cry herself out eventually—likely after consuming enough alcohol to render herself blissfully unconscious for a few hours. Give or take."
I stared at him, dumbstruck. "Are you serious? That really doesn't sound healthy."
Odin offered me a nonchalant shrug. "Perhaps not by mortal standards, no. But she'll be fine come morning. It's best to simply let her get it all out of her system—trust me, intervening only prolongs the inevitable."
Before I could even formulate a coherent reply, Odin raised his gnarled hand casually and snapped his fingers once.
Reality blurred nauseatingly around me.
My stomach flipped, my vision stretched and twisted, and a heartbeat later I was sitting directly across from Odin at a completely separate table on the far side of Fortescue's, utterly isolated from Lilja, Rossweisse, and every other patron. A shimmering veil of magic enveloped our new seating arrangement, muffling every sound beyond it.
All I heard now was the gentle clink of Odin's spoon against his ice cream bowl and my own harsh, startled breathing.
"What the hell?!" I gasped sharply, my heart hammering with adrenaline as my fingers instinctively clutched the edges of the table to steady myself.
I glanced frantically back at our previous table—Lilja and Rossweisse still sat exactly where we'd left them, completely oblivious to my sudden disappearance. Rossweisse's cries were still audible through the glass, though faintly.
My eyes snapped back toward Odin, mouth hanging open in shock. "Did you just teleport me without my consent—across the bloody restaurant?" I demanded incredulously.
That wasn't apparition—we were not touching each other…
Odin's single blue eye twinkled mischievously as he slowly lifted his spoon to his mouth again, savoring a bite of ice cream. "Of course I did." Clearly, he was flexing to make a point.
I forced myself to sit straighter, meeting Odin's piercing gaze head-on. "Alright. So, Lord Odin—why exactly did you drag me over here, then?"
Odin took another slow, deliberate bite of ice cream, savoring the taste with exaggerated leisure, before finally setting the spoon aside with a small clink. "I dragged you here, young devil, because we have business to discuss. You are currently searching for a dead man, yes?" He leaned back casually in his seat, studying me intently.
My jaw tightened reflexively, a pang of sadness flickering through my chest. "So…it's true, then? Arthur Weasley really is dead?"
Odin inclined his head solemnly, his expression sobering. "Indeed. I sensed the mortal wizard's soul as it passed into Helheim recently."
As for how he even knew who I was searching for, I wasn't surprised. He was known as an all-knowing god after all. He sacrificed his eye for knowledge beyond the realm of mortals.
And he spoke of Helheim—meaning Arthur hadn't fallen bravely in battle. He hadn't earned a place in Valhalla, among warriors. His death had been either accidental, or far worse—deliberate murder. The realization weighed heavily upon me, grief and anger mixing hotly in my gut.
"Damn it," I muttered hoarsely, fists clenched beneath the table. "Arthur was a good man. He didn't deserve that fate."
Ginny was going to be heartbroken.
Odin's single eye regarded me with genuine sympathy. "Few good men do," he murmured quietly. "But Helheim is not eternal damnation, merely a destination for those who die outside of combat. Your Arthur Weasley rests peacefully now, beyond mortal suffering. It could have been worse."
"I suppose…" I exhaled raggedly, shoulders slumping slightly. "But Ginny and her family—they deserve answers, closure. Can you tell me where Arthur's body is now?"
Odin's face grew contemplative, fingers steepled thoughtfully beneath his chin. "Indeed, I could. That, however, brings us to our second matter." His lips curled upward slowly, revealing a cunning, calculating smirk beneath the thick silver whiskers of his beard. "I find myself already relinquishing one of my most talented Valkyries into your keeping—an asset nearly irreplaceable. Should I now also assist you freely, Sitri heir, in matters of mortal politics and death?"
A sinking feeling settled in my stomach. "What exactly are you implying?" I asked warily.
His grin widened, the clever spark in his eye intensifying. "Favors, Harry Sitri. I deal in favors. You're already taking Lilja from me—that alone would demand repayment. Now you require my knowledge as well? Then you'll owe me two favors. Two debts you will honor when I come calling, without argument or hesitation."
I swallowed thickly. Owing Odin—the literal Allfather—two open-ended favors was risky as hell. But what choice did I really have? Ginny's family deserved answers, and I'd promised to deliver them.
"Two favors…" I said slowly, testing the heavy weight of the words upon my tongue. My gaze locked firmly with his. "Alright. Name your price, Odin. What favors would you demand of me?"
The old god chuckled again, his deep voice rumbling pleasantly. "Not yet, boy. When the time comes, I'll call upon you and make my terms known. Trust that I won't waste such valuable debts on trivialities."
"Fine," I muttered resignedly. "Then at least tell me where Arthur Weasley's body currently lies."
Odin leaned forward, fingers steepled solemnly. "Arthur Weasley's body currently rests within a desolate wizarding graveyard not far from Little Hangleton. You should hurry. There is still evidence there—clues that might help you piece together exactly what transpired."
"Thank you," I murmured earnestly, rising from the table. "Then I'll go immediately."
Before I could fully stand, Odin raised one hand sharply, halting me mid-movement. His single blue eye pierced me with cold authority. "Be cautious, Harry Sitri," he warned solemnly. "Dark forces gather in this mortal country. Tread carefully, lest you share Arthur Weasley's fate…"
XXX
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