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Pretty Little Demons

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Harry was annoyed.

"Harry, are you okay?" Came the concerned voice of Hermione, his best female friend.

"I'm fine..." He muttered, picking himself up off the floor and dusting himself off.

"You sure, Harry? That's the third time you've tripped today, mate. And even you aren't that clumsy," Ron, his male best friend, added, worried.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Er... Nothing..." The redhead smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head.

Hermione looked at her watch. "Oh, come on, you two, let's hurry. We're going to be late for class! You sure you don't need to go to the nurse's office though, Harry?"

"I'm fine, 'Mione. Let's get to class."

Harry glared.

The reason for his annoyance was sitting there grinning at him creepily. It looked like a black cat but it's lower half had been replaced by another set of front paws and head.


Sometimes, he wished that he wasn't who he was.

Harry Potter was a high school kid, but not your average high school kid. Unlike most high school kids, he could see things, things like ghosts and spirits and, most importantly, demons. And, unlike most high school kids, he was bothered almost daily by demons that weren't supposed to be strong enough to even come in contact with the human world. He had once been told that he was special, being able to see things that no one else could.

That was the only time he had been told that. He remembered that it was a nice old man who told him what they were and that no one else could see them. All the other times, he had been called a freak. His ability had only gave him grief. His parents had died young and he had been given to his aunt and uncle. At first, his aunt and uncle were quite happy to have him, until he began saying things in regards to his ability, if course. They had waved it off as childish imagination, but Harry had always been a stubborn child and he was soon being snubbed by his family and friends alike. Then he met that nice old man who assured him that he wasn't crazy, but that no one else could see these creatures called demons so he shouldn't talk about them. And, of course, he never mentioned the things again, opting to live a nice, normal life.

The old man had also told him about how these weaker demons weren't strong enough to truly live in the physical world and how they sometimes possessed people. But he had also said that they weren't all bad. Not like ghosts and spirits, anyways, because most of them only lingered because they were so hateful. He really hoped he never met one of those, as, while he could handle demons, he seemed to be exceptionally popular with them and if he was just as popular with spirits and ghosts... He didn't want to know what they would try to do to him.

But the real reason for his annoyance was the fact that recently, just after his sixteenth birthday a month ago actually, these demons had become bolder and even more annoying than usual. They tripped him up on a regular basis, stole his stuff and hid it, poured water on his homework, etc, etc... All the normal, annoying mischief demons were meant to get up to. But recently, it wasn't only that... They also did more dangerous things. One of them tried to smash a flower pot on his head. Once he almost tripped down the stairs, another time they had tried to kill him with a bunch of flammable stuff. Oh yeah, they also constantly clung to him.

He walked into the classroom.

"Late again, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger?"

Oh yeah. There was also another reason for his annoyance.

"We apologize, Mr. Riddle."

The new teacher.

"Detention for the three of you. Report to my office after school, please. Now sit down."

Harry gritted his teeth as Hermione once again answered politely and the three of them went to sit.

"Wow, Harry. He really hates you," Dean, one of his other friends and desk mate, whispered, "Maybe even more than Snape does, and that's saying something."

You could say that again.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Thomas, detention. Do not speak in my class, thank you very much. Mr. Potter, see me after school tomorrow, as well."

And again. And again.

He hadn't even said anything.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was the new English Teacher at their oddly named school, Hogwarts High. Aged 23, tall, dark and handsome, he was the perfect man for every girl. He was a genius, as well, having apparently graduated university at the age of sixteen, though claiming to have the intelligence to graduate earlier. He came from a rich family, a very rich family, and, for some reason, decided to become a teacher at their private-but-not-elite school. He had a fanclub, of course, and most of the girls (and perhaps some boys, too) were infatuated with him. However, he seemed to either have some sort of personal grudge against Harry, or was obsessed with him.

He hoped it was neither.

Riddle was not actually that much of a strict man. In fact, compared to McGonagall and Snape, he was very lax. Unfortunately, he seemed to assign Harry detention whenever possible and those with him at the time. What was disturbing, though, was the fact that he'd always send the others to be supervised by other teachers while supervising Harry himself. And Harry could always feel eyes on him even though Riddle was always focusing on something else whenever he looked at the man.


That wasn't all though...

"Mr. Potter, you can be Juliet for this part as you seem too absorbed in the book to pay attention to my lectures."

Riddle always, always made Harry star as Juliet.

How fucking annoying.

He was a guy, for god sakes.

Oh, and, because of this, there was some stupid Yaoi fanclub that a bunch of girls had made in support of their "shipping".

Life sucked.

And there was definitely something he didn't like about Riddle. Just a feeling of darkness about him.

His eyebrow twitched.

"O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

Fuck you, Romeo.


Harry looked up from the random game of Uno that he and his friends had began playing out of boredom during lunch. It was a girl, Romilda Vane, if he remembered correctly.


"Can I borrow you for a moment?"

He could see a bunch of her friends giggling behind her and giving her thumbs up behind her and resisted the urge to sigh. He knew what this was about.

"Sure," he said with a smile. Damn his inability to be a jerk to people.

Romilda led him outside, though Harry had no idea why they had to be so far away just so that she could confess.

"So," Harry said, forcing a smile, "What is it you want to talk about?"

Romilda giggled. Oh how he hated his fanclub and having them in general.

"Well, Harry, I... I really like you and I heard that you broke up with Ginny Weasley recently..." Harry hid a grimace at that. "So... Would you like to go out with me?"

"Well," Harry began. Romilda looked so hopeful and he was too much of a nice guy to crush that, but it had to be done. "I'm sorry, Romilda, but I'm not ready for a relationship so soon after the break up."

"Oh... Well..."

"Yeah, I'm sorry... Let's go back. Class will be starting soon..."

He turned to leave, cursing himself for not knowing how to deal with girls, when he suddenly felt a chill up his spine. Quickly he turned around and saw a flash of silver before sharp pain erupted against his neck. He pressed his hand against that sharp pain, unbelieving of what he just saw. Pulling it away, he stared.


His blood.

And Romilda held a knife.

"Wha... t?"

She couldn't possibility be that angry about him rejecting her, right?

"Hm... Was it too shallow?" She muttered, looking rather nonchalant about what she had just done. Then she licked his blood off the knife. "Delicious..."

"What the hell?" Harry back away, seriously creeped out by now.

Romilda just followed, grinning evilly and pointing at him with the knife. "Stay still, and let this little demon eat you!" With that she lunged, pinning him against the tree with one hand, the other posed to strike.

A demon! She must be possessed!

Harry struggled, surprised by how strong her grip was. She was cutting off his air supply.

But... Eat him? Demons didn't eat people, did they?

"What... Why...?"

"You don't know?" Romilda looked surprised. "Well then, I guess I could explain... It's rare, but every now and then, a human like you is born. Drinking your blood gives us power and let's us live longer and eating your flesh can give us eternal life. The children you carry will be powerful, too... And there are some that will seek you as a bride. But... Most of you just get eaten." She giggled.

Did she just say carry children? But, Harry was a guy, he couldn't carry children. What the hell was that demon talking about?!

However, before he had any more time to ponder, Romilda stabbed down and he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain.

But there was none.

Instead, there was an inhumane shriek and the pressure on his windpipe went away, allowing him to crumple to the ground at the base of the tree. He cautiously opened his eyes.

"Fool. Chasing after what is mine."

His eyes widened because there was Riddle, dropping the now limp body of the once possessed Romilda Vane onto the ground.

"What...?" Harry's voice came out hoarse and he coughed a little, wincing at the pain in his neck. He seemed to be saying that a lot recently.

The disdainful red eyes (when had they become red?) of Riddle turned towards him and softened slightly. He tutted as he looked at Harry's wound and dropped down, grabbing Harry's shoulders before leaning forwards to inspect the wound. Harry didn't move. Either Riddle was a demon or... something worse than a demon. No one could normal could have competed against that strength so easily.

He jumped when Riddle yanked his shirt past his shoulder and leaned forwards even more.

"What... What are you doing? Let go!" Harry struggled weakly in the other's grip, but it was like fighting against iron. He gasped when he felt something touch the wound. Something wet and slimy. "Is that... Your tongue? What the hell!? Ow! Get off me, you creep!"

Harry was trembling by now, just slightly, but this day was proving worse and worse. First, he got attacked by a possessed classmate, then said possessed classmate told him that he's some sort of elixir for demons and now he was getting molested by his English teacher that hated him.

"Stop moving. I can't heal you if you keep squirming like that," came the voice of Riddle, right against his ear. "It's turning me on." Harry froze as he felt... something... hard poking him in the thigh. He chanced a look down and realized that Riddle had gotten hard, licking at his neck and supposedly healing him. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying not to provoke a further reaction from his English teacher.

Finally, finally, the older man pulled away and Harry glared at him warily. He put his hand against his wound to find that it had disappeared. His eyes widened, shocked, and he swallowed.

He shuddered, pressing himself back into the bark as Riddle smirked, licking blood from his lips with a soft moan. Harry was all too aware of how Riddle loomed over him, of how Riddle practically dwarfed him, of how Riddle was looking at him, of how Riddle made no effort to hide his obvious arousal. In fact, for that last part, he just pushed it against Harry even further, causing Harry to press himself against the tree trunk even more.

"Wh-what are you?" He asked, voice slightly shaky, as he tried to push the person or demon or whatever he was away.

Riddle smiled creepily as he finally pushed away and stood up. His pupils turned to slits and his red eyes seemed to glow. His black hair lengthened and curled at the tips, becoming messier and making it look as if his hair were a mess of feathers. Something swished around behind him and Harry realized it was a reptilian tail, except that there were feathers at the end. However, the thing that shocked him the most were the wings that burst from Riddle's back. Each one of them must have been as long as Riddle was tall, yet they were rather thin and covered in shimmering black feathers, the ends tipped in red.

"I am the leader of the Quetzalcoalts, and your future husband," Riddle announced, and it was around then that Harry's mind stopped working. Riddle knelt down again and pressed his lips to Harry's insistently, forked tongue prying open the other's mouth with ease and dominating it. Harry was still trying to register what the fuck happened when Riddle pulled away, but not far enough, and smirked arrogantly. "You will look beautiful when swollen with my child."

Harry did the only thing he could think of.

He kicked Riddle where it hurts.