Dark Legend of Potter: Chapter 68

With the winter holidays around the corner, most students were frantically studying for their midterm exams. Hermione Granger had ensconced herself in the Room of Requirement, where she was surrounded by as much knowledge as possible in the theory that she could learn more by osmosis while she studied. The rest of Megumin’s gang joined her, if for no other reason than that Megumin wanted the room to cough up more secrets, and Darkness and Ron were both worried about what would happen if they let their directionally challenged companions explore the place by themselves. 

Others, however, had something far more important than studying on their minds.

Namely, winning the Quidditch Cup, and also getting filthy stinking rich (by the standards of teenagers). 

Instead of meeting in the Room of Requirement, Ginny and her Minions were meeting in the Chamber of Secrets, which was nearly as good thanks to its villainous ambiance. Or, well, formerly villainous ambiance. Currently, they were there because Vanir served a killer Shirley Temple. 

“I now call the quarterly meeting of the House Points Fraud Protection Committee to order,” Kazuma said, tapping a spoon on the side of his glass.

“That’s not what we’re here for, we’re here because of something much more important!” Ginny protested, looking up from her own fizzy red drink. 

“We’ll get to Quidditch, but we need to know what sort of revenues we’re dealing with here,” Kazuma said seriously. “After all, one of the quidditch teams' most pressing needs is a new broom for you.”

“Hmph, fine,” Ginny grumbled, though her eyes had lit up at the mention of “new broom.” 

“You can’t possibly have made that much money,” Flint said with a sneer, sipping at his own mocktail of a Roy Rodgers, because that sounded more manly than a Shirley Temple. “You’re talking sickles and knuts, not galleons.”

“O ye of little faith,” Kazuma said, giving the HPFPC’s newest member a pitying look. “You underestimate our entrepreneurial spirit. Draco, how do our funds look?”

Taking out a pair of pince-nez spectacles, Draco studied the ledger book that he had carefully maintained over the past several months. Sometimes, being the scion of a wealthy family had its benefits, like in being trained on how to do a proper accounting of multiple revenue streams, if only so you could hide them from the authorities. “Well, in last place, Mr. Flint has brought in 1 galleon, two sickles, and nine knuts over the semester.” 

“Really?” Flint sat up, squinting. “That much?”

“That little,” Draco corrected, looking over his spectacles to give Flint a disappointed look. “I expected better of you, Marcus. It’s this very lack of vision that has put you in your current predicament.”

Flint audibly ground his teeth, and Draco turned to Dust. “In fourth place, we have Mr. Goyle, who has made a much more respectful 13-10-4. Still, there’s plenty of room for improvement. You need to be more creative in your schemes and find ways to expand your customer base.”

“Well I mean, I can only lose so many points naturally, and someone has to get us more points to lose,” Dust pointed out. Flint, meanwhile, was mouthing “thirteen” with a look of astonishment on his face.

“Indeed, and I credit you with by far the most points earned of our group, so that does somewhat make up for your slight shortfall. Next, we have myself, Mr. Malfoy, and I have made 15-2-20,” Draco said dryly. Dust clapped for him, and Draco nodded, while Kazuma looked smug and Ginny hungry. 

“Go on,” Kazuma urged. 

“Yes, yes, I’m getting there. Next, we have Miss Weasley, who has brought in a most respectable 24-7-12. Excellent work,” Draco said, nodding to Ginny who looked rather please with herself.

“So, about eighty galleons all told then,” Ginny said, rubbing her hands together. “That’s enough for a nice Comet.”

“Ah, no,” Draco said, removing his spectacles. He squinted at Kazuma. “What did you do?”

“Just tell the total first,” Kazuma said, slurping loudly from his Shirley Temple. 

“Well. Mr. Crabbe has brought in one thousand, two hundred, and thirty-three galleons,” Draco said, tossing down his ledger in disgust.

“WHAT?!” Flint roared, even as Dust pounded the grinning moron on the back and Ginny flung her arms about him, squealing in delight. 

“Explain,” Draco said, folding his arms over his chest. 

“There is no bloody way you made that much money selling points to other students,” Flint growled. 

“Nah, I only made about 10 galleons that way, that was just my seed money,” Kazuma said, patting Ginny fondly on the head. “The rest of it I made in high-stakes games of Exploding Snap.”

“You…you what!? How did you even- who were you gambling with?!” Flint spluttered. 

Kazuma shrugged. “Whoever Vanir brought in. He holds games here in the Chamber of Secrets on Tuesday evenings.” 

“And the foolish young man who wastes his gifts on games of chance and confidence schemes has been most profitable for moi! Mwahahaahahaha!” Vanir cackled, arriving with a fresh platter of drinks and baskets of hot chips. 

The teens eagerly accepted the food, though Flint was still suspicious. “You hold high-stakes games of Exploding Snap down here? Who do you even invite?” 

 “Whoever can afford the buy-in, Moi is not particular,” Vanir said with a shrug. “Though new victims have been somewhat hard to come by after they have beheld the most unnatural luck of the plaything of the foolish goddesses of fate and toilets.”

“See if you can get a poker game or something going. Exploding Snap has too much skill involved for me to be really good at it,” Kazuma said with a shrug.

“Ah, yes. Moi will have to take another trip to Bucharest. The mortals’ inventions of casinos will never cease but to be an endless buffet of despair and disappointment. MWAHAHAHAAHAHAH!” Vanir cackled, going back over to the bar. 

“So…we split the earnings five ways?” Flint asked hopefully. 

“Don’t be stupid. We have a clear goal with this money,” Ginny said, the £ symbols dancing in her eyes. “Namely, winning the Quidditch Cup.” 

“Right, so Kazuma can make a massive bet on it and we make out like bandits,” Flint agreed, his own wild fantasies taking shape.

“Don’t be an arse! We’re winning to prove we’re the best, and so that we can go on to have smashing careers in quidditch!” Ginny declared fiercely.

“Yeah!” Dust agreed, caught up in the spirit of the moment. Kazuma and Draco looked ambivalent, while Flint had a sour expression on his face. 

“As such, we’ll be investing the money. Or rather, we already did,” Kazuma said, and Draco nodded. The two of them reached behind the fish tank beside the table, pulling out a long box. 

“For our dearest captain and cutest little sister,” Kazuma said as Ginny let out a squeal of delight and fell upon the box like a starving beast as Flint looked on in horror. 

Within moments, Ginny had ripped open the box and was reverently holding up the ebony ash shaft. “A Firebolt. A real Firebolt…How…how much…?”

“If you have to ask how much, you can’t afford it,” Draco said philosophically, then let out a cry as Kazuma sharply elbowed him in the side. 

“Look, the point is, we’re going to absolutely demolish the ‘Puffs next week,” Kazuma said, then he threw Flint a bone, “And, since no one knows you have the Firebolt, the betting odds will still be in the ‘Puff’s favor since everyone thinks Diggory is going to take us out behind the woodshed.”

“Oh….right….” Flint’s eyes lit up at the very thought. “Indeed. We’re still getting 5-3 odds in the ‘Puffs favor since so much of our roster is new.”

“I don’t just want us to win. I want us to dominate them so thoroughly that Ravenclaw will be quaking in their boots at the very thought of facing us,” Ginny said gleefully. “When we face my brothers in the Spring, I want them to rue the day that ever said their ‘baby sister’ couldn’t fly.” 

“Won’t that be a bit of a problem though?” Dust said, and everyone turned to him with their usual ‘You’re a moron’ expressions. “I mean, we’ve been selling that we’ll lose the House Cup. But we get points for every point we score in Quidditch, right?”

Flint went very pale, but the others all scoffed. “Come on Dust, don’t be stupid. We’ll earn what, at most 400 points? We can lose those in an afternoon, even if we have to import flying monkeys again.”

“Oh, right, makes sense,” Dust said with a nod. 

“Well, what are you all sitting around here for!? Get the rest of the team, we have to run drills, and I have to take this baby for a ride!” Ginny declared, hoisting her new broom aloft and clutching the box to her bosom. 

With that, everyone but Flint forgot about the wise words from their clown, though Ginny would later recall them and reconsider Dust’s position in the hierarchy. 

In her lifetime, Megumin had read a great deal of magical texts. She included what most witches and wizards would have considered rather questionable books like the Lord of the Rings, a Wizard of Earthsea, and Advanced Dungeons and Dragons: Dungeon Master’s Guide on that list. Of course, there were now quite a lot of actually magical texts like Moste Potente Potions and the Monster Book of Monsters (even if Megumin wasn’t taking Care of Magical Creatures, she’d still read the entire thing). 

However, none of them had been anything quite like Legend of Crimson: A History of the Crimson Demon Clan, by Arue, the Foremost Author of the Crimson Demon Clan. For one thing, most magical books didn’t have prose that was so ultra-violet as to give the reader sunburn. 

Archwizard Megumin’s Crimson Gaze locked with the emerald orbs of the Weak and Impertinent Outlander, her passion glowing like the embers of a roaring fire. “Yes, O wicked and perverse one! Let us join together in mystic might, that we might lay low our foes, and my legend will be written in a blaze of glory across the skies of this land!”  His steely gaze met hers, and she could feel the interlocking of their destiny like the gentle but firm caress of steel on silk. 

An exemplar of literary excellence Legend of Crimson was not. But what it did have, in addition to some remarkably steamy tidbits for what purported to be a history novel (and regular readers of Arue would know were heavily edited to be kept so tame), several very interesting spells.

Spells that were so interesting that Hermione had completely forgotten to study for her midterm exams for three whole days, something that hadn’t happened since she was in Year 1 in primary school. Mostly because five-year-olds do not have midterm exams. 

Indeed, at the moment, though the Room of Requirement did still have shelves loaded with books, its main area had been transformed into a training field, complete with wooden target dummies bearing wooden swords with silly painted faces on burlap sacks. Hermione leveled her wand, and began chanting, 

Rise now, foul black flames, and consume my foes! Let the black storm of death flow through me!

CURSED LIGHTNING! 

A black tear in reality opened up, snapping instantly from the tip of Olórin, streaking between the half dozen targets and ripping them to shreds in a crackling blaze of dark energy. Hermoine lowered her wand, grinning happily as she examined her work. “Oh yes, I very much do like that one. Your turn, Yunyun.”

As the room reset with new dummies rising up from the floor as the old one sankn away, Yunyun stepped forward. She raised her own wand, the tip of her tongue sticking out slightly as she concentrated. Then she recited, 

Screams of unrepentant sinners, let the cacophony of your destruction blaze forth! I call now upon the legions of hell!

DIMENSION HELL BREAK! 

This time, a sphere of darkness formed at the center of the training ground, a loud wailing sound like the chorus of the damned as dark flames licked it surfrace, before the whole thing detonated with force so hard it sent books flying off the shelves and knocked most of the observers flat on their arses, save Darkness who was sturdy enough to take the hit without even flinching. 

Once everyone had picked themselves up and the dummies reset, Megumin ran forward, brandishing Chunchumaru. “Now, it is my term! Behold, THE MOST POWERFUL SPELL OF THE SACRED TEXTS! For, now, I, Megumin, Foremost Genius of the MMPH MMMMM MMPH!” 

“Absolutely not,” Ron said, hand clamped firmly over Megumin’s mouth. “Ow! Stop biting! No indoor Explosions!” 

“What about outdoor Explosions?” Megumin asked hopefully once Ron had removed his hand. 

“NO!” everyone else told her in stereo, much to Megumin’s annoyance. She ended up not getting a shot at the target dummies, as absolutely no one trusted her not to attempt to cast Explosion, even with her repeated attempts to claim she wouldn’t. 

They were, of course, completely correct not to allow Megumin a chance at target practice, because she absolutely would have. 

Once they had practiced a number of other creatively destructive spells like Crimson Laser, Infernal Ray, and Cursed Crystal Prison, the exhausted teens flopped down on the floor as Hermione paged through the book, looking for more ways to brutally murder all who opposed her. 

“Hmm, this is interesting,” Hermione said, turning to a richly illustrated page of a bearded man with a staff standing over a crowd of supplicants. “It’s a ritual for creating a Crimson Demon.” 

“Why would you want to do that?” Ron asked, his nose wrinkling, at the same time as Yunyun and Megumin eagerly sat up and crawled over to examine the page as well. 

“The Ordinal Ritual for the Birth of the Crimson Demon Clan, as rediscovered by Yunyun, Foremost Chief of the Crimson Demon Clan,” Megumin read. “This must be your past incarnation!” 

“That’s bollocks. Your mum had the book, Megumin. She and your aunt just named you after some of the people in it,” Ron said with a roll of his eyes, his common sense sadly leading him astray. 

“M-Maybe. What does the ritual say?” Yunyun asked, and Hermione handed her the book for Yunyun to read over it. 

“Apparently, it takes a great deal of magic power, and a special sacrifice of blood. But when performed properly, it will curse the progeny of the caster to become a Crimson Demon,” Hermione said. She frowned, shaking her head. “I’m not sure why the caster would want to curse themselves though.” 

“”Because it’s cool!”” Megumin and Yunyun said in unison. 

“Clearly, a dark and tragic curse would add gravitas to one’s backstory, and would gift your children with incredible power! This is clearly the greatest gift my parents could have given me!” Megumin said excitedly. 

Yunyun nodded, dabbing away tears from her eyes. “M-my mother…she always wanted to be a witch. This ritual…it’s how she could make sure her daughter…make sure that I…I would be a witch. T-that I could go to Hogwarts with my sister, even if…even if my mum couldn’t.”

Ron was looking at the book, his eyebrows raising. “It says here that Crimson Demons are naturally more adept at spellcasting. I think a lot of families would be interested in this ritual, actually.”

“And that they’re cursed with crimson eyes, and a birthmark!” Megumin said excitedly, reaching to pull off her robe. “Here, I can show you mine!”

“NO!” the other girls said, while Ron looked rather interested at the prospect, much to his own embarrassment. 

“It does also state that you’ll be cursed with madness and be rejected from normal society,” Darkness pointed out, looking further down the ritual list. “Maybe that’s why you two always had trouble making friends.”

“Ha! A clear mark of a true destiny is for the worthless peons of the world to turn their backs on you! Why should I care if the NPCs reject me?” Megumin cackled. 

Her cousin, however, was much more thoughtful. “I…I think m-maybe that explains a few things…W-we were both bullied…though, um, Megumin did her own share of bullying…”

“Still does,” Ron said with a nod, which earned him a smack from Megumin that only served to prove his point. 

“Interesting, I wonder if it alters your DNA,” Heremione said, reading over the rest of the ritual. “If anything, I think this proves that Crimson Demons really are a human subspecies. Homo Sapiens Purpuradaemonium, I think.” 

“Yes! Exactly!” Megumin cackled, jumping up and striking a pose. “We of the Crimson Demon Clan are superior in every way, with perfect night vision, superior magical power, and-”

“Absolutely no muscle tone,” Ron said, grabbing one of Megumin’s noodly arms. 

“Hey! Leggo!” Megumin grunted, trying and failing to wrestle herself free. A short match ensued, which ended the moment she tried to elbow Ron, he got slightly serious, and dropped her with a quick sweep and pinned her arm behind her back. 

“See, having some physical fitness is useful,” Ron chuckled, even as Megumin wriggled uselessly. 

“Let me go! I will have my vengeance!” Megumin howled

“Sure, just don’t try to knock me about again. I’ve got five older brothers, I know a thing or two about wrestling,” Ron said, letting Megumin up. She glared at him, but she also scooted slightly closer, apparently not nearly as cross as she was pretending. 

“So, um, can we conduct the ritual?” Yunyun asked hopefully, scanning the page. 

“I don’t think you need to. See here? It mentions that true blooded Crimson Demons will breed true themselves. Though I wonder if perhaps I should try the ritual,” Hermione mused. 

“You want your future children to be like Megumin?” Darkness asked, looking worried. 

Hermione went slightly pale. “Well, uh, they could be like Yunyun…”

“HEY!” Megumin protested, while Ron laughed uproariously. The poor fool. 

“At least my baby pictures were cute,” Megumin grumbled, pulling out her photo album and fuming over it. 

“Yunyun was quite darling as well,” Darkness agreed, smiling and peering at the album. 

“You know, while this book does answer some of my questions, it raises even more,” Hermione mused aloud even as Yunyun was reading over the ritual carefully. 

“What do you mean? What questions?” Ron said, his brow furrowing. 

“Well, this explains why Megumin and Yunyun are so…unique,” Hermione said diplomatically, and Ron nodded his understanding. “But, it does raise an even more important question: How, exactly, did their parents get ahold of this book to perform the Ritual?”

“Huh. That is a good point,” Ron said, scratching his head. He looked around the room, then brightened. “Well, maybe they got it here! Lots of obscene books and whatnot.”

“Ronald!” Darkness gasped, going bright red as Meguimn started to cackle again. 

“What? Hermione said this place had loads of them,” Ron protested as Hermione’s ears turned as red as his hair. 

“Ronald, I said this place has obscure books. Not obscene ones!” Hermione hissed. 

“Oh. Right,” Ron mumbled, going bright red himself as he realized his error. 

“I bet it has the other kind too,” Megumin said impishly. “And wouldn’t you like to read them.”

“Bleh,” Ron said, and the others all made noises of agreement, while secretly all planning to come back later to find the other variety of “obscure” books.

They would all be deeply disappointed: The Room of Requirement had an age filter, and none of them were old enough or clever enough to bypass it, as Chris had updated it for soul-based exceptions. A problem that would arise again the next year. 

“Hey! T-there’s another ritual!” Yunyun said excitedly to change the topic a minute later, and everyone huddled around the book eagerly. 

“Ritual for summoning the Devil Queen of Gluttony,” Hermione read. “Now that does sound interesting.”

“Absolutely not,” Darkness said firmly, and Ron nodded hastily. 

“You have no sense of adventure! Summoning a demon is simply another form of arcane mastery! Yunyun and I tried many a time, but it never worked before! I’m certain we’d succeed with this one!” Megumin said eagerly. Yunyun’s eyes were already glowing with interest.

Ron acted swiftly, grabbing the book and ripping out the Demon Queen ritual page and shoving it in his robe. “Absolutely, positively, not. The last thing we need is another dark lord running about.”

“But, we could defeat her if she’s too evil!” Megumin pleaded. 

“No. You haven’t even finished with your last one,” Ron said sternly. “No dark rituals that summon demons until you’ve actually finished off Voldemort.”

Megumin sulked again, and Yunyun looked incredibly hurt. “B-but…what if they could be our friend?”

“You already made friends with a basilisk, let’s not push our luck,” Darkness said with a shake of her head. 

“Well, we can always summon them after we defeat Voldemort! Come on, let’s go find Sirus Black and torture him until he reveals the location of Voldemort!” Megumin said eagerly, and then it was off to the races, with Ron hurrying after her before she could blow something important up. 

Later that evening, while Ron was asleep, his robes rustled slightly. Scabbers the Rat carefully extricated the page, and read it over. A Devil Queen of Gluttony? He’d had a bad run of masters so far, but this…this might just be a way out of his predicament. Voldemort couldn’t save him, but if he could summon a Devil Queen under his control…

Yes…yes…it could work. It could work perfectly. 

Quickly, the rat rolled up the page of parchment and hid it away for later. This could finally be his ticket to freedom. 

PHILO: Pettigrew is about to become a part of a Looney Toons show, isn’t he?