To Hell and Back: Chapter 1

To Hell and Back

 Chapter 1

“Lily, it’s him! Take the kids and run!”

Lily Potter grabbed her twins, Harry and Heather, and made for the stairs just as the front door to their quiet home was blasted in. She was halfway up when she heard the sound of something heavy hit the floor, followed by cold, cruel laughter. She choked back a sob as she entered the nursery and placed her children in their crib.

“It’ll be alright,” she assured them.

She spun around to face the door, taking a deep breath to steel herself. The floorboards creaked a moment before Lord Voldemort appeared in the doorway.

“Stand aside, foolish girl.”

“Please,” Lily begged. “Please, kill me, but let my children go.”

“Stand aside!”

“Please, take me,” Lily begged as tears streamed from her eyes. “Just let my children live.”

“Avada Kedavra!”

A flash of green light struck the redheaded woman in the chest, and she crumpled to the ground. Stepping carelessly over her lifeless body, Lord Voldemort approached the crib and grinned. The boy gripped the edge, glaring up at him, while the girl wailed in the corner.

“Bad!” Harry shouted, swinging a pudgy fist.

Lord Voldemort chuckled.

“My, aren’t you a brave one?”

Reaching into his black cloak, he pulled out a silver, jewel-encrusted scabbard.

“You should be honored,” he said. “Your death will ensure the immortality of the greatest wizard ever known.”

He brandished his wand with a cruel smirk.

“Avada Kedavra!”

A flash of green light struck the boy in the chest. He screamed, and the entire room was enveloped in bright white light. The Dark Lord raised his hand to shield his eyes; then his scream joined the boy’s as he felt his body being burned away. When the light died, the boy and the man were gone. All that remained in their place were two clouds, one dark grey where the Dark Lord had been, the other white, floating just above the crib.

The dark cloud fled. It sailed through the shattered window and disappeared into the night. But a small piece of it remained. The tiny fragment, no bigger than a fist and operating on instinct alone, moved to latch onto the only living thing in the room. The girl continued to cry in the corner of the crib, completely unaware as it approached.

Suddenly, the white cloud darted in front of it. It enveloped the dark fragment a moment before they were both dragged away by an intangible, inexorable force.

Heather wailed miserably as the room fell silent.

~

Jezebel sighed as she sensed an incoming soul. She was a demon in every sense of the word. Her skin was bright red, a pair of curved horns protruded between the strands of her long, dark hair, and a spade-tipped tail swayed behind her as she walked. With not a stitch of clothes covering her voluptuous body, she walked barefoot across the jagged basalt covering the ground toward the arrival point and came across a curious sight.

A small boy sat next to the mutilated remains of a soul.

“Bad!” the boy yelled, smacking the disfigured soul on the head.

“Hello,” Jezebel said, tilting her head curiously. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

The boy turned to her and, without an ounce of fear, raised his hands above his head. Smiling, Jezebel bent down and picked him up. She took a moment to settle him on her hip and waved her hand through the air.

“Show me the boy’s parents.”

The air in front of her rippled like water. Slowly, it resolved itself into an image of a dark-haired man and a redheaded woman. They looked distraught as they watched an image of Jezebel with their son. She frowned. Clearly, they were in heaven, so why wasn’t the boy with them? No child, no matter how heinous the crime, had ever been sent to hell.

“Something is very wrong here.”

Jezebel was distracted when the boy leaned down and latched onto her dark red nipple. She glanced down at him with a bemused smile.

“Suck as hard as you like, but I’m afraid you won’t find any milk,” she chuckled. “Now, let’s see if we can reunite you with your parents.”

~

Lucifer was a massive demon who stood eight feet tall. His body rippled with bulging muscles, and his red skin was covered in jagged scars. One of the horns on his head was broken, barely able to peak out from his wild black hair.

“The boy has to stay,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly.

Jezebel frowned and adjusted the boy on her hip.

“What do you mean he has to stay?” she asked. “Surely, he hasn’t done anything to warrant punishment.”

“Of course not,” Lucifer growled. “The boy, Harry, saved his sister from becoming a Horcrux. Dragged the soul piece straight to hell to protect her.”

“Then why won’t heaven take him?” she asked angrily.

“Because the rules are clear,” Lucifer grumbled. “He entered willingly, so he cannot leave.”

“But surely-”

“No exceptions,” Lucifer growled. “Don’t glare at me, Jezebel. This wasn’t my decision.”

Jezebel sighed, looked down at the boy still nursing futilely on her breast, and frowned thoughtfully.

“What about a soul exchange?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Lucifer asked, furrowing his bushy brow.

“Well, if he’s not here for punishment, then he’s a trapped soul, is he not? Trapped souls can return to the land of the living in exchange for a corrupted soul.”

Lucifer frowned, then looked up suddenly. Dark grey clouds rapidly gathered overhead, and there was a loud rumble of thunder. With a derisive snort, he sneered at the clouds.

“Apparently, the angels agree,” he said, snarling the word. “Fine. Take the boy to the edge of the punishment fields, where the manual labor is done. Raise him as best you can. Teach him the rules of the lost souls. If he’s able to make an exchange, he’s allowed to leave.”

“Very well,” Jezebel said, bowing her head. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Oh, and Jezebel,” Lucifer called with a smirk as she turned to leave. “Let him grow before you sink your claws into him. I know how you enjoy the company of human men.”

Jezebel sneered and spun on the spot. Her muscles flexed, and black, leathery wings sprouted from her back. Tightening her grip on the boy, she flapped her wings and took to the air gracefully. She flew for several minutes before she reached an expanse of rolling green hills. Below her, human souls tended the fields by hand in the blistering heat. They looked up briefly as she passed but quickly returned to their work lest they be punished further.

Eventually, Jezebel landed at the edge of the field on the edge of a great forest, where the heat was less oppressive.

“Lilith, are you here?” Jezebel called.

A stunningly beautiful woman with long, wavy blonde hair emerged from the tree line. Her skin, pale and flawless, glistened in the sun.

“Hello, Jezebel,” she said, quirking an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“Another lost soul,” Jezebel said. “Lucifer has tasked me with raising him and teaching him the rules. I’ll need your assistance.”

“Of course,” Lillith smiled. “But he’s so young.”

“It’s a long story,” Jezebel sighed. “He dragged a piece of a dark wizard’s soul to hell to protect his sister. Lucifer attempted to send him to heaven to be with his parents, but they refused to make an exception. The only way he can return to the land of the living is by exchanging a soul.”

“Oh, the poor dear,” Lillith said, stepping closer to examine the boy as he eyed her curiously. “What’s his name?”

“Harry. Harry Potter.”

“Hello there, Harry,” she smiled. “Do you mind if I hold him?”

“Not at all,” Jezebel replied. “I’ll warn you, though, he might try to breastfeed.”

“Oh, that’s alright.”

Lillith waved her hand over her chest. Her large breasts swelled, and a drop of milk leaked from her nipple. The moment she took Harry in her arms, he latched on and closed his eyes as she suckled.

“He might not need to eat, but it’s probably comforting,” she said. “Come. I’ll show you to the house, and we can build him a room.”

~

Thirteen-year-old Harry excitedly ran out of his small, cozy cottage in the woods. Bursting through the trees onto a grassy hill that overlooked the punishment fields, he startled a group of resting Imps. They were small–about four feet tall–with dull green skin. Their bodies looked relatively human, but their faces and wings resembled a bat’s. As they shrieked and took to the air, their massive, foot-long cocks swung between their legs. Giving the boy a menacing glare, they flew out over the fields toward the dark horizon, where they worked to punish the most guilty souls.

“Slow down, Harry!” Lillith yelled.

She sighed as she stepped out of the woods and shook her head with a smile.

“But she’ll be getting on the train soon,” Harry said.

Sitting cross-legged on the ground, he waved his hand through the air in front of him. As it rippled and resolved into the image of a young, red-haired girl walking nervously through a train station, Lillith sat behind him and pulled him back until he rested against her soft bosom.

“I think you’re more excited than she is,” she teased.

Harry smiled and shrugged. After years of watching his sister be bullied and belittled by their relatives, she was finally going to escape. Heather would finally learn about the world of magic. They watched as she was guided onto the platform by a kind, redheaded woman and her family. She stared at everything with a mixture of apprehension and awe. Climbing aboard the train, she met a girl with bushy hair and buck teeth who became her first real friend, Hermione Granger. Eventually, the excitement died down, and the two girls settled in for the long ride to Hogwarts.

“Come along, Harry,” Lillith said, ticking his side to get him to sit up. “Jezebel will be here soon. You’ll need to finish your studies quickly if you don’t want to miss the sorting.”

“Okay,” Harry said.

For years, Harry–along with a number of demons, succubi, and incubi who had grown curious about the tales of mortals–watched Heather grow. They witnessed her trials and tribulations. They celebrated her triumphs and lamented her failures.

It all culminated on one late night as two dozen denizens of hell watched the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Even Lucifer showed up for the occasion. He sat on a throne of particularly guilty human souls that struggled to support his massive bulk. Four sat on their hands and knees to form a seat, while four more stood behind him, using their hands to support his back and shoulders.

They all gasped, groaned, and cheered as the task progressed and then fell silent when Heather and Cedric disappeared with the cup. Harry watched with mounting dread as his sister fought for her life. He nearly wept when she spoke to the echoes of him and their parents expelled from Voldemort’s wand.

A massive cheer reverberated through the hills when she escaped, taking Cedric’s body with her, but Harry remained silent as he turned to Jezebel.

“I want to try and go back,” he said. “She needs my help.”

“I’m not sure if you’re ready,” she replied.

“He’s ready,” Lucifer said.

The humans under him groaned as he leaned forward and pushed himself to his feet.

“That abomination has avoided us for too long,” he growled, turning his eyes to Harry. “Bring me his soul, every last piece.”

Harry grinned and gave him a cheeky salute.

“Yes, sir.”

~

Hermione stepped out of the hotel room she shared with her parents and onto the sandy beach in southern France. The sun shone brightly as she slipped her sunglasses over her eyes and sat on the lounge chair and blanket that had already been set up. Nameless, faceless men and women wandered up and down the beach, their voices melding into an indistinct murmur.

Seeing so many women walking around topless, she decided to join the crowd and shucked off her bikini top. She applied tanning lotion to her modest breasts, and only when she was finished did she realize the constant murmur of voice had suddenly ceased. Looking up, she gazed around curiously. The beach was empty. Not a soul was in sight.

Hermione shrugged and leaned back, closing her eyes to enjoy the silence.

“Hello.”

She opened her eyes to find a young man with wild black hair and bright green eyes standing above her. He was quite attractive, and his toned muscles glistened in the sunlight.

“Hello,” Hermione said, fighting the urge to cover her chest.

The man smiled charmingly.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you, Hermione.”

She frowned thoughtfully.

“Have we met?” she asked.

“Not yet,” the man grinned, extending his hand. “I’m Harry, Harry Potter.”

Hermione ripped her hand from his and glared as she felt a swell of indignation.

“That’s not funny,” she said.

“It wasn’t meant to be,” he smiled.

“Harry Potter is dead,” she hissed coldly.

“Oh yes, very much so,” he said pleasantly. “Why do you think I had to meet you here?”

“What are you–”

Hermione’s words died as she looked closer at her surroundings. Everything felt familiar but slightly out of place. The harder she looked, the more everything just looked wrong. She tried to remember how she got there and suddenly realized where she was.

“Am I… dreaming?” she asked.

Harry grinned widely.

“I knew you’d figure it out.”

Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped closer and sat on the sand next to her.

“Beautiful place,” he remarked. “You came here last year with your parents, right?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, eyeing him suspiciously. “If this is a dream, why can’t I make you go away?”

“Oh, I’m Dream Walking,” Harry smiled. “It’s a trick I learned from a Succubus. You can wake up if you’d like. You just have to think hard enough about it. But I’ll just come back another night until you listen.”

Hermione stared at him incredulously and shook her head.

“Wait, a Succubus?” she asked.

“Yeah, I ended up in hell,” he shrugged.

“Okay, now I know you’re lying,” she said definitively. “There’s no way Harry Potter would get sent to hell.”

“I didn’t,” Harry smiled. “I sent myself.”

“What?” Hermione asked incredulously, her face a mask of confusion.

“Do you remember what Heather told you about the Dementors?” he asked. “About what they made her remember?”

“Yes,” she answered slowly. “She said the Killing Curse hit Harry, there was a bright white light, and then he was gone.”

“Yep,” Harry grinned. “His spirit tried to attack Heather, so I grabbed on and dragged him straight to hell.”

“But he’s not dead,” Hermione huffed.

“I wasn’t entirely successful,” he admitted with a self-deprecating smile. “And before you ask, I can’t explain any more than that. It’s against the rules.”

Hermione snapped her half-open mouth closed and stared at him incredulously.

“Rules? What rules?”

“The rules for the dead,” Harry shrugged. “I can’t tell you something about the mortal world you don’t already know. Trust me, I want to, but I can’t. It would help Heather a lot if she knew some of the things I did.”

“Why are you talking to me, anyway?” she asked. “Why not talk to Heather?”

“Because I need your help,” he told her. “I’m considered a lost soul – I’m trapped in hell, but I don’t belong there – like Incubi and Succubae, which means I get to play by a slightly different set of rules. I can return to the mortal world if I trade another soul for mine, but in order to do that, I need you to summon me first.”

“How do I do that?” Hermione asked, her brow furrowed.

“You need to make a sacrifice.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I am not killing someone!” she shouted.

“No. Nothing like that,” Harry chuckled. “Something like your virginity would work.”

Hermione’s cheeks reddened, and her glare intensified.

“And that counts as a soul?”

“No, no,” he said, waving his hand. “Summoning me just gets my foot in the door, so to speak. I’ll be able to interact with the mortal world again. It’s not permanent. I’m going to help her kill Voldemort and then drag his soul straight to hell, where it belongs.”

“How?” Hermione asked, her glare lessening as she leaned forward with interest.

“I can’t tell you until you summon me. It’s one of the rules. I think they deliberately made it difficult. Otherwise, demons would be summoned all the time.”

“And how do I know you’re not some demon lying to trick me into summoning you?” she asked suspiciously.

“You don’t,” Harry shrugged.

Suddenly, a pulsating buzz sounded all around them, growing steadily louder.

“Looks like it’s time to go,” he said, getting to his feet. “Just remember, if you ever need me, call my name.”

Smiling, he lowered a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. Hermione blinked and found herself in her bed. She sat up, turned off her blaring alarm clock, and sat up on the edge of the mattress.

Her dream had felt so real, but it couldn’t have been, could it?

~

Harry opened his eyes, gazed at the hills overlooking the punishment fields, and folded his arms behind his head.

“You did well.”

He smiled as Lillith appeared above him, held out her hand, and helped him to his feet.

“Thanks,” Harry said. “I just hope she trusts me before it’s too late.”

“I might be able to help with that,” Lilith smirked. “Come. It’s time for you to learn the fine art of seduction.”

She turned and walked back to the house, and Harry followed, eyes glued to her hypnotically swaying backside.