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13.79% The Master of Death is a Devil / Chapter 4: The Walk of Shame

Capítulo 4: The Walk of Shame

The devil was seriously reconsidering his entire life as the death eaters started towards Hogwarts after they had Hagrid pick up his warm 'corpse' as a trophy.

'Really? If I was snake-face, I would have Fiendfyred the whole damn forest, not have an enemy half-giant carry him,' Harry internally grimaced. But that's what you get for committing to rending what makes you a person at the age of 16 because of a couple of lines in a library book. Insane idiot.

Maybe he could invite Hagrid into his peerage? He'd make a bomb ass devil rook. Such a loyal and lovable guy.

He probably never fought in his life and stayed around all this time with a knockoff umbrella wand even though he was innocent of killing Myrtle.

Nope, he'd never do rating games or train. He can enjoy the simple life.

While he was carried by his friend that introduced him to the wizarding world, Harry tried flexing his new body without looking suspicious.

The pain was gone, but his head was still buzzing a bit. With his new status as a devil, he felt incredible. Part of him wanted to unleash his own mass of Fiendfyre into the horde of death eaters, but that just wasn't him. He didn't want to harm innocents like Hagrid, even if he no longer had any qualms about the idea of burning the rest alive.

Harry concentrated on the idea of death. At his beck and call, he felt the chill of the grey energy that Cadaer called upon. He didn't release it outside his body, but he had to be ready to kill the guy leading this mockery of a procession. Good news? He didn't need to use his wand, his magic felt...

His magic wasn't alive, but it felt like a deluge of power that was waiting to be set free. It WANTED to act. He loved magic but pushed that train of ideas aside. He needed to focus. Harry recalled Cadaer's last words before he shoved the disembodied soul shard into his head. The reincarnated wizard focused on the idea of Phoenix fire.

Thankfully, Hagrid was wearing thick ass clothes and no one saw, because the little burn on his jacket scared the shit out of Harry. It took all his concentration not to jump out of Hagrid's tender embrace.

The guy loves animals so much, Harry wouldn't put it past him to give creatures in the forest his tender embrace... At least he appeared to be attracted to the French bint with the unibrow? That's... good?

Sorry Hagrid, if you ever become a devil, it won't be because the Boy-Who-Lived let you in his peerage. Plus, the guy spilled the beans about the Philosopher's(Sorcerer's) stone, Fluffy and his taste of music, and raised a dragon in a hut!

'What was I thinking?' Harry wondered. Hagrid can't live around muggles. Or was it no-maj? He wasn't going to America and that's their name. Mundanes? Normals? Hopefully, they'll have a better name for them on the other side of the planet.

Was his brain running faster? Or was he just more clearheaded? He did have a race change and a soul removal after all. Focus! His magic!

Harry didn't know much about wandlore, but all the legends tell of the time after Merlin, where wizards discarded their staffs for wands to conduct more precise magics. Apparently, they used to have more magical power than modern wizards and witches.

The devil figured he would need a wand for precise spellwork and could only do simple spells, like Lumos, summoning, and banishing. He didn't have any proof, but he was really hoping that he still do a summoning charm. If not, he'd have to tackle Voldy and take his Deathstick back.

Harry felt strong. Really strong. He was pretty sure that he could jump right at Tom and snap his neck, but Nagini was still alive and he didn't know what would happen if he acted. Too many lives were on the line.

Most importantly his.

He felt mixed feelings of shame and pride as the parade exited the Forbidden Forest. He shouldn't feel bad about caring for his life, but part of him still did.

Merlin's tits, he just walked up and waited for Voldemort to hit him with a killing curse 15 minutes ago! Harry swore to himself that he would never feel bad for caring about his own life again!

Or he would try, at least. Maybe he should just unleash some Phoenix fire or something at the lot of them. He felt more magic at his fingertips than he ever dreamed of before!

If some innocents die, they'd be casualties of war. For the greater good.

No... he's a Potter, not a Dumbledore.

The devil had been blaming his new race on his actions, but that wasn't the full truth. He felt a little high from his transformation and new instincts, sure, but his new world view and how he viewed death was the greater culprit here.

He really needed to leave Magical Britain. Just thinking about the people that let all of this happen... He knew the real reason that he wanted to act rashly.

When they arrived and Tom Hallelujah-ed at his death, he would have to act in front of a crowd, show off his new powers, then he would eventually be hailed as a Dark Lord because he has devil wings and a tail. Hopefully, he could keep THAT under wraps.

Why though? Who cares if he never had to come back here?

Teddy. His godson. Maybe he should save an Evil Piece for him? He'd have to wait a while though and he would have a life of his own by then...

Harry had often felt lonely, but never this isolated. He felt as if all of his bonds were for nothing and they would look at him like he was evil if they saw his devilish features.

Or worse, they'd freak if they learned of his lifespan. It was only a matter of time before he had to leave anyway. Plus, as far as he knew, devils were a secret to the Wizarding World and he didn't want anyone after him.

Note to self: don't show wings or tails. He knew he couldn't, but he really wanted to spread his wings and fly. That always cleared his head before.

Anyway, he needed a better plan than to just wing it. They were getting really, really close to Hogwarts and it wasn't like Harry could open his eyes as he was playing dead.

Or he could just take back what was his.

'I'm a complete idiot.'

The Deathstick called to him. Harry could feel its connection like it sang a solo performance to his soul. It felt like family, much closer to him than his old wand by far. He knew in his gut that he could summon the wand back to him now, but...

It would be so much more fun to steal it in front of his face.

Maybe that's why he was being so lackadaisical about his parent's murderer? He'd never been a confident boy, but for the life of him, Harry Potter couldn't think of a single way that Voldemort could beat him. The only thing that could go wrong was people finding out he could grow wings.

It was only a matter of time. Maybe he should let him throw an AK first? He estimated that he had the magical resistance near the level of a Hungarian Horntail as a High-Class devil.

'Ugh, screw that,' Harry was enjoying the power rush and confidence, but he never wanted fame before and its the last thing he wants now. No tanking Avadas like one of Dudley's game characters Keep it simple.


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