Magiscape (Harry Potter)

Chapter 35. The Script

"He is the Minister's son! How can you throw him in a holding cell? Why are you so hellbent on destroying your career, Scrimgeour?"

Lily heard the enraged feminine yell echo through the corridor as she stormed forward.

She was in the DMLE section of the Ministry. And a single corridor stretched ahead of her, lined with flickering blue torches, casting wavering shadows on the tiled walls. Her heels clicked sharply against the polished stone floor, and each step she took brought her closer to the voices.

Already, she had made liberal use of Magiscape, slipping past aurors who were trying to bar her way, protesting that she wasn't supposed to be there. She had been subtle, of course. Instead of blatantly taking hold of their minds and souls, she had used words infused with charm and conviction to sway them. Her voice, though soft and desperate with motherly concern, carried an irresistible compulsion, turning their reluctance into compliance. Just because she was furious didn't mean she had to make reckless moves that would reveal her hand and endanger them.

It had been thirty minutes since she first felt the ear-shattering noise of wards breaking. Like everyone on the island, she had been horrified by it, flinching when the residual force slammed into her, nearly unseating her from the chair in which she had been lounging. Her first thought had been a muggle attack, which was not as improbable as others might believe. Even with all the wards and hybrid science-magical devices, their existence wasn't concealed entirely.

James had told her, in one of their clandestine meetings, that he wanted the archipelago to earn a similar reputation as the Bermuda Triangle, a deathly place where normal rules didn't appear to apply. A place that was left alone by the rest of the world due to its sheer danger, a place that was wrecked by constant cyclones and hurricanes. A place brimming with natural disasters. And he had seemed thorough enough with his plans. Even before the creation of the artificial islands, he had erected the massive wards first, creating an illusion of ever-present storm clouds enveloping the entire area. It was what kept them concealed from GPS and all other sorts of American surveillance instruments.

But it was not a perfect shield. Muggles invent and innovate at a ridiculous rate. It was impossible to remain ahead of them. So, a military attack was not an unthinkable scenario in this case, even if a foolishly offensive move. And she had stopped trusting that their wards could withstand any attacks after further reading. That was why she had been taken aback when the wards shattered, fearing a nuclear strike.

Thankfully and unfortunately, that was not the case. It was Harry who broke through the wards in his distressed state, apparating to Saint Mungo's with his partner's dead body. The entire island quickly became aware of the situation as people in the hospital began gossiping and sharing the shocking news: the hero of Avalon had been dragged away by aurors in disgrace.

So here she was, having already contacted James to get her son out. He would be here in person himself if he wasn't busy overseeing the repair of the wards.

"So what?" came a calm response to the previous yell. "I don't think our honourable Minister will allow a criminal to roam free just because he is his son."

"A criminal? Don't be daft. Harry is the best auror in the department in recent years. You can't ignore all his accomplishments because of a single mistake made in a moment of distress. He just wanted to reach the hospital as fast as he could. He was freaked out after seeing Daphne Greengrass' mutated dead body."

"That's why you share the blame too, Nymphadora," Scrimgeour's voice was increasingly cold this time. "You shouldn't have taken them in without the compulsory training. Death is something an auror sees and experiences on a regular basis. We are trained for that. But you gave them special treatment and see where that led to. Fourteen dead aurors. Fourteen!  And the entire ward scheme collapsed, revealing us to the world."

Nymphadora quieted, slumping under the guilt, and it was at that moment that Lily flounced through the open door.

She saw a cluster of aurors gathered near a holding cell, their expressions a mix of anxiety and confusion. Scrimgeour stood at the centre, his face set in a stern, unyielding mask. The woman, Nymphadora—Harry's team leader, was there too, her face flushed with rage and regret, her shoulder-length hair spiky and angry-red.

"How did you get in?" Scrimgeour questioned as they went into alert mode, their wands pointed at her.

She walked up to him, unafraid, and pressed an envelope against his chest, more roughly than necessary, sending him stumbling back. "Minister's orders. I am to take my son home. Harry needs rest before the evening's emergency Wizengamot session, where he will answer all the hows and whys, where he will tell us what happened. Now, free him."

He tore the envelope open and roved his eyes over the text, his expression growing grim.

"What if he turns into a demon like his partner?"

"That will be my problem. Not that it will happen." She tapped her heel on the floor, crossing her arms, not bothering to hide her impatience and irritation.

"But wha—"

"Scrimgeour." Nymphadora stepped forward threateningly. "This is Minister's order. Stop blathering and give me the damn key."

He pursed his lips but did release the key. "I hope we are not setting a monster free."

Lily barely resisted the urge to grab his head and crush his skull. As Nymphadora opened the door, she stepped into the cell quickly and found Harry huddled in a corner with his knees drawn in.

She kneeled in front of him, her heart clenching at the sight of his glassy, apathetic eyes, as if he were not even there. "Harry, sweetie."

His gaze settled on her, unresponsive for a moment before his irises widened. "Mum?"

She almost gasped as he pulled her into his arms, his grip suffocatingly tight. He hid his face in her bosom like a child seeking comfort. Her own arms coiled protectively around his head, holding him close as his tears seeped into her robes.

The cell around them faded into insignificance; all she could focus on was the frailty in his embrace and the silent sobs that wracked his body. She stroked his hair gently, whispering soothing words. The warmth of his tears was a stark contrast to the cold dread that had settled in her heart. What had happened?

"Shhh, everything will be alright. Come, let's get you home." She extracted herself and helped him up, grabbing his hand, his squeeze nearly crushing her fingers. But she didn't utter a single word of protest, turning towards the aurors who were shooting them wary looks. "Where is the closest floo?"

"I have one in my office. Please follow me," Nymphadora said, leading them away from the cells.

The three were silent the entire way. Harry was sporting a blank expression, his eyes red-rimmed, his mind elsewhere, while the other two kept shooting him concerned glances, wondering whether they should say something or let him be. It was only when they entered her office and Harry vanished in the fireplace that she spoke to Nymphadora. "Thank you for standing up for him."

"He is my junior. I would set a bad precedent if I abandoned him now."

Lily nodded and stepped into the fireplace without another word.

As soon as she reappeared in the living room, she asked, "What happened?"

She watched as he clenched his fists at his sides, his emotionless face giving way to self-loathing. "Daphne is dead. And I could've saved her if I wasn't busy fighting that angel. I should have checked on her after that holy light. But I didn—"

"Harry." She grabbed his shoulders, halting his rambling, guiding him to the sofa. "Tell me everything. From the beginning."

And so he did. His posture kept drooping as he talked, as he filled her in. By the end of it, he had his face in his hands, no doubt hiding his tears.

"Only if I had portkeyed along with her, I could've stopped the mutation and saved her," he muttered, rubbing his palms against his eyes, his voice quivering.

'You could have,' she thought. Harry had enough power and skills for that. But all she could feel was relief that he was fine and apprehensive for what was to come. Yes, she was sad that Daphne Greengrass died. But not because she felt for the girl, but rather because her passing affected her son. In the end, his partner was just a stranger to her. She could not bring herself to feel sorrow for her sake.

The main takeaway from this info was that the Wizarding World was in immense danger. Archangel Michael was here. And he was immortal, unkillable, and determined to eliminate every single 'devil spawn'. She almost decided to scrap her plans regarding Harry and take him away to some desolate country to live the rest of her life with him in peace. Just him and her, like the old times.

But there was still a glimmer of hope. They still had Lucifer. She would need to confront him about his brother and see if there was any chance of ending Michael for good. If Harry alone was able to kill him, however temporarily, then combined with her might, they could destroy him with ease, if such a thing was even possible in the first place.

"Harry, sweetie," she kneeled before him, resting her hands on his knees, looking up at him. "I know you are devastated. I know you are angry. But you need to pull yourself together. We can't have you all sad and morose in the Wizengamot. You need to bury this sorrow and look forward. You need to overcome it."

He pulled his palms from his tear-stained face. "Whenever I close my eyes, I see her. Mutated into a demon, her skin all red, her azure eyes unseeing. Daphne was so beautiful, so elegant, and because of me, she ended up turning into that. Because of me, she is dead."

She grimaced at his haunting tone, standing up and leaning down to capture his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "It's not your fault. When someone becomes an auror, they know they can die on this job. She knew what she signed up for. You tried. You tried your best to save her. And that should be enough on your part."

"But what if I had gone—"

She pressed her finger against his lips, silencing him. "No 'what ifs'. It never helps. You didn't know her soul was affected. You prioritised her safety at the first sign of danger. You risked yourself to send her back. It's not your fault that it didn't work. You did everything right. It was just bad luck."

He nodded slowly, probably still blaming himself, but that wouldn't change after one pep talk. It would take time, and she would be there for him throughout it all. Maybe she could quicken the process by affecting his mind, but no, the last time she tried that, he lost his inhibitions and began groping her without any guilt. And while that introduced a new spicy dynamic to their normal mother-son relationship, she wasn't eager for another drastic shift in his personality. He would have to overcome his grief himself this time; there wouldn't be any shortcuts.

"I'll call for Susan. She will be with you. I need to take care of something important in the meanwhile," she said hesitantly, drawing her hands back from his face.

He didn't say anything, simply resting his head on the backrest and closing his eyes.

'Whenever I close my eyes, I see her. Mutated into a demon, her skin all red, her azure eyes unseeing. Daphne was so beautiful, so elegant, and because of me, she ended up turning into that. Because of me, she is dead.'

She winced, remembering his words. She hoped he wasn't seeing that right now, that he wasn't torturing himself.

Reluctantly, she turned away from him, using the floo to call Susan, knowing Lena's daughter would take good care of him in her absence. Usually, she wouldn't leave Harry in a moment of crisis, opting to embrace him and spend the entire day in bed. But her crucial task would decide her and her son's future, determining what path they would take. It couldn't wait.

Harry would've to survive a few hours without her.

~xXxXx~

Convincing James to offer a sacrifice took little effort once she told him of the impending danger. She didn't even try to control his mind, not daring to. He was a paranoid bastard with all sorts of safety checks to detect magical manipulation. There was a reason no one had been able to assassinate him, after all. And since he vaguely knew about her power to incite a crowd by taking hold of their minds, his suspicion would fall on her first. Yet, she also knew she could get away with it if need be. But there had been no reason to antagonise him, to meddle with his head; they had similar goals, ultimately.

He wanted to safeguard his Avalon and see it prosper, while she wanted a crown for her son, to immortalise his name in history, to make him a legend, a myth, rivalling the likes of Merlin. Harry was a sweetheart at his core, with no desire for prestige. So it fell upon her to look out for him, to put a spotlight on him when he accomplished greatness. And no one was greater than him. It would be a tragedy to not carve his name in the annals of time.

So for now, James was a staunch ally.

"Will he do?" James asked, glancing at the bound man.

Lily, James, and his assistant, Brenda Strongheart, were gathered in one of the many secret chambers within the ministry.

"Yes." Lily eyed the Azkaban prisoner who had been whisked here for her use. He had a thick, scraggly beard and long dirty raven hair. His face was skeletal and his dirty robes didn't hide his malnourished form. His dark eyes darted between them as he screamed from where he was chained against the wall, his voice unable to pierce through the silencing ward.

He looked strangely familiar, but she couldn't remember his name. Not that there was any need to.

"I'm going to do it. Don't be shocked when my body starts folding and disappears into nothing. It's norma—well, it's procedural."

James released a sigh, looking thoroughly exhausted. His assistant didn't look any better, her pretty face dominated by dark circles. Running a country was certainly a weary task. And she felt a bit guilty that Harry had added more work by destroying the wards. Not only did it take tremendous power to restore them, but the ICW was also crossed with them for revealing themselves, even if unintentionally. On top of that, James was forced to meet with the American government to clarify things this week. They not only detected them through their advanced GPS system, but their nuclear submarines cruising through nearby waters also got a good look at the entire archipelago when the wards were down. All in all, the next few days would be tiring for the duo.

Shaking her head off the distracting thoughts, she pointed her finger at the prisoner, mumbling the Killing Curse. "Avada Kedavra!"

The man fell ungainly on the floor, the chains still locked around his limbs.

And as soon as the soul—an oily, gel-like golden orb—detached from the dead body, visible only to her eyes, she formed a tendril and attached herself to it, hitching a ride to the true Magiscape, where Lucifer was caged.

The Soulscape, which was technically the correct term over Magiscape, remained unchanged. Golden mists swirled above her like sand particles dancing in air, churning, covering the entirety of this realm, acting as the lid of this world. Underneath her was the never ending golden sea, the amalgamation of the souls of dead witches and wizards, who were going through agonisingly slow transformation, losing their sense of self and becoming blank. And once that happened, they would be sucked through the White Tree's roots and released as mists, waiting for the last taint to be cleaned before getting accepted into the physical world, to be reborn once again.

For the moment, she couldn't see either the White Tree nor Lucifer. All she could see was the expanse of the golden sea and the spinning mists overhead.

"Lucifer!" she yelled. "Show yourself."

At once, a powerful aura manifested, almost forcing her to her knees. But she persevered, managing to stay on her feet.

The view around her changed. In the distance stood a colossal, leafless white tree. It was so tall and wide that she felt like an insect gawking at a skyscraper. Pulling her eyes away from the intimidating sight, she looked at a rowboat a few feet in front of her, where the devil himself sat.

As always, he was dressed immaculately in a three-piece suit, looking out of place in this fantastical plane, like a dot of colour in a black and white movie.

"You should've yelled, 'Lucifer, I have come to bargain!'" He smiled at his own joke, not even trying to hide his amusement.

"And why would I do that? I haven't actually come here to bargain, I'm here for some critical information," she said, climbing into the boat and perching on the plank in front of him. "I assume you know what has happened."

"Obviously. I know everything," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, resting his hands in his lap, drumming his fingers on his knees. "My brother dearest is here, and you want to know if you can kill him or not. Right?"

She nodded, rubbing her palms down her thighs, smoothing the creases on her robes. "Yes. I want to know if we can kill him or not. It will help me decide how to proceed further."

"Of course," he chuckled, crossing his leg over his knee and leaning back. "Either you will flee to live a peaceful life with your son if Michael cannot be defeated, or you will stay and defend Avalon so you can make him its next king. You wily little snake, unwilling to risk it."

"Exactly. I won't gamble my son's life or mine on this. We will stay here only if we are going to win. Otherwise, I'm quitting and running away."

He pushed his fingers through his dark hair, his wry expression disappearing as he stared at her with narrowed eyes. "And why should I help you? I'm not your servant, child. I have no responsibility towards you. My only task is to oversee this realm and prepare my descendants' souls for reincarnation."

She shrivelled under the strength of his stare, but her voice remained calm and composed. "Michael won't rest until he finds you. It's in your interest to help us against him, if killing him is even an option. It won't be long before he finds his way here and demolishes this system. Once he does that, we all are finished. There will be no more reincarnations, and our souls will be sent to hell of your original world."

Lucifer offered her a humourless smile. "I know the future. That's why I'm so unbothered. I know I'll be safe. So don't worry your pretty head over me. Worry about your schemes."

"That's why I'm here." She dropped all pretence of control and literally begged, knowing Harry's life depended on it. "Will we win or lose? Please, at least tell me that much."

"We will win," he said after a minute of silence, appearing amused by the shift in her demeanour. "And you are on the right track. Keep going as you are. It will save Avalon. But you have to do one more thing. Here, take it."

She blinked as he handed her a book titled Veritas. Or 'Truth'.

"It's time for revelation. The coming months will be chaotic. Use it to reunite your country. Let them know where they came from. Let them know their true identity. Let them know the source of magic. And let them know about my task to guard this realm and look over their souls. Tell them to worship me. Become my priestess, Lily Evans."

…

…

"What? Are you crazy? Are you telling me to start a new religion?" She couldn't help but sputter bemusedly.

Lucifer got up and turned away to watch the White Tree, the heart of this realm. "It's not to stoke my ego, if you are worried about that. There are reasons. This religion will give your people a place to belong. It will be essential in fighting against Michael, because believe me, that daddy's boy is already planning to conquer the planet and convert everyone. And while he is mild and understanding at the moment, he will start massacring the unbelievers in the future. Let your people unite behind the Veritas. These words will give my descendants a sense of righteousness that they will need once the entire world turns upon them."

"And I am supposed to be your priestess?" She files his words for later use, focusing on the important matter.

"Yes. You will be my first priestess. The book has an entire chapter about you. How your genius brought you here, how I bestowed upon you a miracle to cure your squibhood. The truths are stretched and the vile parts are removed, of course. So don't worry, your secrets are safe. All you need to know is that the believers of this book will give you power and authority. You are my pope. In future, the power of this position will rival kings. I suggest you read the entire book and build a temple for me in Avalon. Then it will be up to you to perform miracles and win over the population's faith."

She scrunched up her face. "This was not how I thought today would go."

Fight or flee, that was the question that brought her here, to know if should let Harry fight Michael or not. But now she was getting roped into birthing a religion. It was… bizarre. 

"This religion has one practical use too."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrow.

"It will increase my power, and once I have enough, I will be able to pop into your world for a few minutes and disrupt Michael's connection with God. Because he won't die unless that happens. He can be only killed when big bad daddy isn't watching over him from across the multiverse. So be diligent. The safety of your country and your son hinges on me becoming powerful enough to make a brief appearance in the real world."

"Isn't there another way? This seems like a very flimsy plan."

"Don't worry. It will work. This is how it is meant to be. I've read it in the Tale of the World."

She sighed. "Alright. So all I need to do is reveal the truth—the partial truth—to the magical world. Then I'll have to build a temple for you and become your lone priestess, taking care of your followers, giving them comfort and miracles to build up their faith. And the more people believe in you, the more powerful you will become, which is the key to killing Michael."

"Precisely."

"I hope you are not using me to get out of this prison." She gave him a suspicious look.

In response, he laughed. "I am trapped by my own design. If I want, I can destroy this realm and get out of here. But that will mean sacrificing my descendants' souls to God. The only reason I'm here is because of a sense of duty. If I just wanted to go out and have fun, I would've done it by now. No, my primary task will always be to tend to this realm. But if I'm able to help with the extra power I gather from faith, I'll gladly use it to destroy Michael."

She ducked her head sheepishly for doubting him. He was the same being who had given her and Harry so much power. If he had wanted to use them, he could have done it long ago when they were powerless.

"What will I say when some try to connect the dots? What will I say when someone asks if the Hogsmeade massacre was your doing? You are the devil, and all demons are under your control. It won't be far-fetched to accuse you for that tragedy."

"I don't really care how my blessings are used in the physical world. If Belphegor is massacring my own descendants, fine. It is temporary anyway. They will reincarnate. I don't interfere with how my children live their lives or if they kill each other. I give them absolute freedom."

"I know that. But the general population won't like that answer."

"Just lie to them that it was a demon from another world, totally not allegiant to me." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Hmm, maybe kill her in front of an audience to hype everyone up. That will definitely give you a reputation boost."

Her eyes widened. "Are you willing to let me kill Belphegor?"

"Not in a real sense. Just for theatrics. She can't be killed unless I am destroyed. Similar to God and Michael's relation. So once you 'kill' her, she will disappear. That should convince the magicals that the villain is dead. And voila, you become the most liked person after James Potter."

She agreed, a plan already forming in her mind. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Obviously. The book said so. I know the future, you know. We are just following a script that our future selves wrote themselves."

She ignored it, because that line of thought always confused her. She still couldn't imagine time as anything but linear. "Then I only need one more answer. Will Harry and I survive this war?"

"You will," he said without hesitation.

Satisfied, she bade him goodbye and reappeared in the real world, smirking at the relieved looks on James' and Brenda's faces. No doubt they would've been terrified when her body began folding and shrinking like a scene straight out of a horror movie.

"You are alive, thank Merlin." James dropped into his chair, the trio still in a Ministry's secret chamber.

She told them what happened with Lucifer, giving him a copy of the book Veritas. James was glad to know that there was yet a way out of this, that Avalon would weather an immortal Archangel.

~xXxXx~

Belphegor, sitting beside Lucifer on the boat, lifted the veil once Lily Evans faded from the soul realm, becoming visible.

She looked at the spot where the redhead had been with melancholy. "You are cruel, deserving of the title Devil."

"What is this? Sympathy for a filthy Briton? Is the world ending?" Her progenitor smiled, turning a little to face her.

She pursed her lips, unwilling to sympathise with a Briton. They had taken everything from her when she was a human, and she had kept massacring them whenever opportunities arose in the form of deals. Of course, she had never been in control of these deals or summons. It was the devil himself who sent her to specific people in need. This was something she just recently got to know when she confronted him.

"You have read the book of the future, you know my relationship with her and her child," she whispered softly, wishing she could change it to spare them pain.

As if reading her thoughts, he shook his head. "Don't even think about it. The script is already written by us. We are not allowed to edit it. The docile spirit of this world will turn feral and kick us out if we twist the future for our gain. Just be glad that you even got to read the script before acting it out."

Yes, Lucifer had allowed her to read the Tale of the World, and she knew her future. Again, he had only allowed it because it was already written that she would read it. It was ironic that he was following the book with such devotion, as if it were the Bible. Then again, if he didn't, the world spirit would stop giving him sanctuary and evict him, so she understood his reasons.

"I know. I'm not foolish enough to attempt that. My ending is better than what I could've hoped for. I will not risk it."

"Good. We are not puppets to some fate. It is not happening because it is written. It is written because it has already happened in the future."

She nodded.

"And did I hear you accepting your ending?" He grinned. "Have you made your decision?"

Her cheeks darkened, but she blanked her mind and rose to her feet, standing in front of him. She was not some shy teenager. She was a demoness who had been alive for hundreds of years.

She raised her hands, reaching for her back. Her finger found the straps for her resplendent red gown.

With a smooth move, the top part of her gown fell, pooling at her waist, exposing her large, round breasts.

She didn't fidget under her progenitor's appreciative gaze. A zip went down at the side of her hip, and the entire gown slid down her buxom, hourglass figure. Then she slipped out of her undergarment, baring herself truly.

"Impregnate me, like it has been told. I won't fight my future."

Lucifer smirked and vanished his clothes.

She eyed his manhood standing straight, pointing upwards at the swirling mist of this realm. Stepping closer, she sat down in his lap, taking his cock up her cunt, breaking her four hundred old virginity.

A moan clawed out of her mouth as her progenitor explored her body and bounced her on his impressive manhood.

While she was wrecked with pleasure, the motive behind this coupling was something more important than bodily bliss.

This bout of sex will quicken her belly. Her creator's seeds will put the power of creation in her womb.

It would take days for her to get pregnant, but the process was agreeable enough that she never complained.