Chapter 43. Replacement
The doors of the church finally close. The thousands in Diagon Alley have dispersed now that the catastrophe is averted. I wait, staring at the mother-son pair with unblinking eyes, the same pair who is responsible for this mess. I remain invisible, perched on my throne, my jaws clenched.
Alice murmurs something in Neville's ear, brushing his cheek. And he nods, proceeding to duck into the fireplace, disappearing in green flames.
I wait no longer. Such is my fury that I'm before her in a blink, my clawed hand finding her slender neck. Her gasp is answered by my sudden visibility. The fear in her eyes melts at the sight of me, and an adoring smile cracks her face. "My lord," she chokes, not struggling even as my thumb sinks further into the front of her neck—her windpipe.
"I should kill you for the stunt you pulled," I utter through clenched jaws, barely restraining myself from going forward and snapping her neck. "What the hell were you thinking?"
She tries to talk but the words are soundless, her voice stolen by the murderous thumb on her neck.
I shove her away, disgusted by everything that's just happened. I rub my face, exhausted to the bone. What have I done? What have I made Alice Longbottom into? Where did the kind, charming woman go? How could someone like her commit genocide just to push forward her religious agenda? Why did I ever think having a fanatic was a good idea? She's like a double-edge knife without a handle. Using her will always cut me. I should throw her away. I should really.
"It was for you, my lord," she says in a soft voice, rubbing her throat, her fingers on the bloody 'Children of Rayhmir' necklace, a small coin with the insignia of wings dangling from a silver chain. "In a single day, I converted the entirety of the country into your worshippers. I made you the God."
I snap my face towards her and bite down the urge to claw her shameless mouth. My words are cold and measured, "We were already in the process. It would've happened eventually. You didn't have to create an artificial plague for that. We were not in any hurry."
"Perhaps." She smiles, shrugging, her nonchalance infuriating me. Stepping closer, she puts her palms flat on my chest, whispering, "But my method was more efficient."
"Alice." I cup her face, my restraint dwindling, my fingers pushing into her skin. "You made everyone suffer. Your actions caused untold misery. You indirectly killed children—toddlers, newborns, innocent people. For what? Just to quicken the process that was already happening? Have you no shame?"
While I have accepted myself as evil, I have my limits. Nearly erasing a civilisation to gain followers is way past the line.
"I will do anything for you," she murmurs, not answering my question, her hand sliding down my belly, slipping under my trousers, finding me—making me twitch. "Anything."
I shiver as her warm caress makes me rigid. I close my eyes and inhale as her lips leave feather-light kisses on my jaw. I exhale as her divine body presses into me, her large tantalising breasts squashed against my side, her groin rubbing along my hip. "Show me your true form, my lord," she husks, biting my cheek. "Reward me. Fuck me on your throne. Mount your High Priestess from behind like the last time. Make me chant your name. Rayhmir, Rayhmir, Rayhmir, Rayhmir…"
The rage that was slowly receding comes back like a tidal wave.
I step away from her, glowering, fixing my trousers, feeling my arousal crumble under the heat of my anger. "I'm already in my true form. I am Harry Evans. Don't you understand that?"
Her eyebrows furrow, her lips pursed. But she nods. "If that's what you want me to believe."
…
…
Before I can start pulling on my hair, I ask her one critical question that I need an answer to. "Does Neville know Harry Evans is Rayhmir?"
"No." She shakes her head, still sporting that mildly displeased look. "Why would he need to know that?"
Of course. Why would she talk about Harry Evans when she can gush about Rayhmir? "Good. I want my identity to be kept hidden. And Alice, if I get another surprise, I'll kill you and your son. I'll forsake you even in death, erasing your existence, denying you the afterlife I promised. Ask me before you do anything with the church from now on, okay?"
I'm glad to see the terror in her blue eyes. "Understood, my lord."
I floo back to the castle, away from the maniac.
~xXxXx~
Daphne Greengrass
In future, historians will use the 'Day of Blessing' as a point of reference after which the world changed. The life before will be vastly dissimilar from after.
Even just days later, everything feels so… different.
Daphne leaves her quarters with Astoria and Tracey in tow. She's silent, while they chatter on. Nearly identical to the days before if not for the 'Children of Rayhmir' necklaces hanging off their necks. At this point, everyone bar the few professors wear them. Most actually believe in the miracle, accepting that Rayhmir is a god. And the few who don't, wear it anyway, afraid that their unacceptance may invite wrath from the powerful wizard. Because while not everyone believes him to be a divine entity, it's unanimous that he is the strongest wizard to ever exist. The question is whether the mass healing and resurrection was some arcane magic or divinity.
Another point of contention is if the plague was natural or not. The disaster happened merely days after the establishment of the church. Many question the proximity between the two events. Yet, none discuss it openly. These debates are to be had behind closed doors with people you trust. Because although the risk of upsetting 'Lord Rayhmir' is nebulous, getting mobbed by his devotees isn't. In a week since the 'Day of Blessing', there have been three incidents of mob lynching, killings of wizards and witches casting doubts on Rayhmir's sanctity and honour.
Daphne herself isn't sure what to believe. Well, she already knows he's divine, but she doesn't know if he had a hand in the plague or not. Even if she'd like it to be a coincidence, she cannot close her eyes to these facts. The plague skyrocketed the urgency to join his new religion. It's him who benefitted the most from the tragedy. Is it any wonder people are suspicious about that?
They enter the Great Hall and take their seats at the Slytherin table. Astoria lingers only a moment before leaving for the Gryffindor one, cuddling into Harry's side after greeting him with a searing kiss. The students there chuckle, gag, or look envious. Harry Evans acquiring another pretty girlfriend would've prompted a lot more gossiping if everyone weren't too busy acclimating to the changed world.
She glances at her moon-eyed sister with a fond look. Finally, Tori achieved what she set out to do. Daphne is happy for her.
Though she's still not made her mind about the kind of relationship she wants with Harry herself. He represents utmost power and safety. Being close to him would have many advantages. But can she picture herself going on dates and doing all these sentimental chores with a boy, even if that boy is godly? No. She's not Astoria.
"Earth to Daphne." Tracey nudges her side. "What were you thinking?"
She starts picking food in lieu of an answer, her empty plate getting filled up. "If we will see more attacks in the school or not," she lies.
"I don't think so. Draco and his goons were caught and imprisoned for life in Azkaban. I doubt anyone will be willing to follow in their footsteps. Not after the 'Day of Blessing'."
True enough. Even fools would think a hundred times before fighting a god.
She listens with one ear as Dumbledore gives his speech. He isn't wearing the necklace. He is one of them. The Unbelievers. Even after being revived by Rayhmir, he doesn't believe in him. Stubborn old fool. If death doesn't open his eyes to the truth, she doubts anything else ever will.
Whatever everyone's opinions, the students in Slytherin are happy with this development. With them all having accepted Rayhmir as god, other houses have stopped the insistent bullying. It's hard to justify tormenting 'evil scums' when they believe in the same god as you. And High Priestess Alice released a statement earlier, revealing what was required to be a good devotee. Be kind and helpful, and believe in Rayhmir's divinity. Very simple and easy to follow. Obviously, a few will still ignore the commandment, but those will be condemned by their own and suffer exclusion.
All in all, she appreciates the changes.
Now all she needs is a purpose, to ward off this feeling of aimlessness.
If Harry hadn't stepped into her world and shown that being Lord Greengrass meant nothing in front of real power, she'd have continued on this path and succeeded her father, becoming the head of her family in a couple of years. She can't do that now. The title feels hollow after what she witnessed, after she saw her mother forced to orally service Harry while her father looked on helplessly. Political and economical powers are great—she understands that, but they mean nothing when faced with pure magical talent. When your adversary can shout you to dust, no money or connections can keep you safe.
Thankfully, she has achieved that sense of safety. Now, even magic won't be able to bend her. Not when she can use her ability to create a safe zone and be unharmed from all forms of attacks. The only one able to bypass this layer of invincibility will be Harry. And that's why she has to always remain in his favour. To never give him a reason to strip this power from her. But how?
Her spoon stops abruptly on its way to her mouth. She puts it down carefully and yanks the newspaper from Tracey's grasp, ignoring her friend's grumble. The headline sends her mind racing, a trickle of light spearing through the foggy confusion.
High Priestess Alice Looking For More Priestesses
~xXxXx~
Daphne relayed a message to me through Tori. She asked me to meet her at midnight on top of the Astronomy Tower. And since there's no classes today, it will be actually empty. Perfect place to discuss whatever she wants to.
This summon surprised me. She has been ignoring me until now. No doubt unable to formulate how she wants to interact. Should she treat me as Harry, a powerful albeit ordinary wizard? Or should she prostrate herself before Rayhmir?
Of course, these are all assumptions; we're not close enough that I can guess how her mind works. Even before I became Rayhmir, we never met for friendly chat. She's not a friend like Astoria; just an ally, at most. And a potential girlfriend. Like every other boy, I too dream of fucking the hottest girl of our year. The points that she would yield will be the cherry on top.
Her arrival is preceded by soft footsteps. Her aromatic scent reaches forward like an invisible hand, taking a hold of me. I turn away from the depressing view—a cloud-laden sky hiding the stars and the moon—and face her, leaning back against the railing.
"We could've simply met in my quarters, or yours. We live next to each other, you know," I say, more of a conversation starter than a complaint.
She's enfolded in light-blue robes, her iconic blonde hair braided over a shoulder.
"Not enough privacy," she replies, crossing her arms, averting her gaze when our eyes meet. "There's Tracey and Astoria in my quarters. And you have your sister in yours."
"I see." I dislike her lack of courage. I thought she'd at least know better than to buy into my godhood. Alas, expectations often lead to disappointment.
She straightens up and finally looks me in the eye, a pleasant surprise. "I have a request."
"Go on." I cross my arms as well.
"I read in the Prophet that High Priestess Alice is looking for more priestesses. I want to volunteer as a candidate."
My face is blank as I stare at her, not giving anything away, as I mull it over.
Daphne Greengrass as my priestess? It's… not bad. Publicly, I've shown favour to House Greengrass. So it wouldn't be improbable for their eldest to choose this path. To devote her life to me. It will make sense to the clueless masses.
"Why?" I quirk my eyebrow. "Is there any reason for this sudden interest?"
She steps towards the railing beside me, propping her elbows on it, looking down at the Hogwarts grounds. "You've always confused me. From the moment you came to Greengrass Manor and tormented my parents to now, when your divinity has been widely accepted. Unlike my sister, I could never find a way to define our relationship. And a relationship is a must between us. Not only because I know who you are, but also because of the connection you have with House Greengrass. It's imperative and beneficial that I do as my family have done, to bind myself to you in some way. Becoming your priestess seems to be as good an option as any."
She has thought this through, it appears. It can be beneficial for me as well. I want to replace Alice in the future. Her act of genocide cannot be ignored. My current High Priestess is a maniac. A more reasonable person in her position will be appreciated.
But I don't want another fanatic.
"Just so you know, I wasn't born a god. Even now, I'm more of an unprecedentedly overpowered wizard than a true god. All that the church is doing is propaganda. Every single word aims to deify me." I confess, noticing the widening of her eyes as she shifts to face me. "Now, do you still want to take up this job? To propagate the lie of my godhood?"
Her silence stretches for a minute, and I can feel the gears in her head overworking to take everything in. Then her lips twitch, her eyes sparkling. First comes a chuckle, then a full laugh. I look on with a furrowed brow as she chortles while clutching the railing for balance, as if the hilarity of my statement has stolen her balance.
"Well played, Harry. I'm impressed. You made everyone believe in your lie. Even me. I can't comprehend how easily I was deceived." She shakes her head, still wearing an amused smile. "A god? Why did I ever believe in such a stupid concept?"
"It's easier to think of my mighty deeds as otherworldly and divine than to be forced to compare yourself to me, I assume, to realise the gap between our skills and powers. It provides an excuse to not feel inferior to a fellow wizard. If we are inherently different, there can be no comparison." I think out loud.
"I doubt that's the reason."
I shrug, not deigning to argue further. "Anyways, do you still want to be my priestess? I'd rather have someone who knows the truth at the forefront of this campaign. Alice's fanaticism has brought me enough problems."
At her confused expression, I explain the plague.
She is rightfully horrified. "I can't believe how she thought that was a good idea."
"Neither can I. It's the reason I want her replaced with someone more rational. You can be the High Priestess in the future."
Daphne draws herself to her full height and nods. "I'll accept this job."
"One more thing." I step closer, close enough that I can feel the heat wafting from her body. "My High Priestess is my closest ally. Publicly, she's solely devoted to me. That means no romantic entanglements in your life. You will belong to Rayhmir."
She doesn't back down, her chin held high. "Done. I assume you will sleep with your priestesses."
"If they're hot."
She scoffs and pushes past me, walking away. "Fine. I'll… sleep with you. But only once I become the High Priestess. That's still some years to go." She throws a coy look over her shoulder. "Until then, use your imagination, my lord."
I chuckle.
~xXxXx~
Isabella Zabini
"Are you sure, Master? We don't have to meet him." Isabella practically begs. She has read all the newspapers. She knows any conflict with Harry/Rayhmir will be a calamity. And knowing how prideful both are, there's more than a likely chance that a quarrel may take place. "It's probably Teresa's plan to exact revenge on you with him backing her."
Nicolas Flamel narrows his eyes, her insistent protests doubtless grating on his nerves. But she doesn't care at the moment. She has tied her fortune with this man. Keeping him safe and unharmed is for her own benefit.
"As I have said, my dear, Rayhmir is no god. You do not have to panic." He puts his hands down on the table, appearing exasperated by her concerns. "If the fear for your own life is so pressing, you may leave. I will not force you to attend this meeting."
She withholds a groan. Doing that will have its own consequences. Namely, her master's displeasure at her lack of trust.
"Are you sure he isn't a god? Not only can that man create Cure-All potions, he can even raise the dead—and not just one, he can resurrect them en masse. That looks like a god to me. No one has been able to do that before. Is that not divine?"
"Child," he begins, closing the book finally, granting her his full attention. "I have been alive for more than six centuries. I, myself, have accomplished what people once thought impossible. After all these years, I know one thing, that I don't know everything. Magic is something that can never be learnt completely. Even ten thousands years later, someone will still discover and achieve the impossible. Rayhmir merely knows a form of magic that no one else does. That magic allows him to heal anything, even death. But that does not make him a god, just like my immortality hasn't made me a god. Do not be hoodwinked by the charlatan. There is no such thing as gods. At least not in this universe."
His assurance calms some of her jitteriness. "Tell me you're stronger than him. Promise me he won't be able to kill you."
"I promise, my dear child, he is not stronger than me." He sighs. "I have lived a long life. I have killed half a hundred such gods. It is my hope that he won't force my hand. But if he will not be an ally, if he indeed attacks me, I will be certain to show him how I deal with 'gods'. Now, go and prepare yourself. Look your best. Your beauty may very well be the thing that will earn us his allegiance."
She nods and bows. "As you wish, Master."
It won't be the first time she slept with a potential ally. And Harry Evans hadn't hidden his lust for her when she last met him.
Only time will tell how this meeting will go. They're expected to arrive in an hour.
~xXxXx~
As we prepare to activate the portkey that will take us to Flamel, I toss Teresa a gold ring. "Wear that."
"That's a lot of skipped steps." She raises her eyebrow, catching it and putting it on her index finger.
I ignore the quip and reveal the intentions behind it. "The matching ring is with one of my clones—" Yes, I've revealed the existence of my clones to her, "in case you die, even with your phoenix regeneration. If that happens, banish Flamel from the pocket dimension. We are not risking your life."
"Thanks." She smiles. The lack of any verbal agreement annoys me. I know she'd rather die than flee.
[Rings of Sacrifice and Gift]
— A set of two rings: Silver (Sacrifice) and Gold (Gift). If death comes to the bearer of the Gold ring, it's transferred to the bearer of the Silver ring, sacrificing them to keep the bearer of Gold alive. Note: The sacrifice must be aware and consent to put on the ring. Also, it's one time use only. Once used, the rings will disintegrate.
At least she will have two lives. If the worst happens and she dies one time, I'll be sure to drag her away to safety.
"Let's get this over with."
We activate the portkey.