Harry Potter: Dungeons and Demons

[Early Morning — Hogwarts]

"Hoot."

"Hungry?"

"Hoooot!"

Chuckling at the loud, shrieking noise, Damien tossed the sardine he had bought for the owl toward its eager beak. He had forgotten to buy owl treats—only realizing the shop sold them after returning and going through the pamphlet.

"You're causing a lot of headaches, Zillion," Damien muttered as he petted the owl, who swiftly swallowed the fish whole. "But not for me."

He remembered Dumbledore discussing the owl with the other professors, deliberating whether to allow Damien to keep it. Of course, Damien had already informed Flitwick about the situation with the Ministry, and that he had sent a letter requesting a permit. Everyone, including the headmaster, knew it was the school's rules that had been lacking, and thus, the outcome was always likely to be in Damien's favor.

"Do you want more?" He asked, feeding Zillion the fifth sardine. The owl blinked before finally shaking its head in understanding. "Good boy."

"Hoot?" The owl nuzzled its head against Damien's hand.

"You can rest around here, Zillion," Damien said, rubbing the bird's feathers. "But most likely, you'll be made to stay in the owlery."

The only reason that hadn't happened yet was that the school had yet to officially make a decision. Until then, Damien was allowed to keep the bird in his room. And he didn't mind.

"Anyway," he continued speaking to the owl, "you're going to have a lot of work to do. I'll need you to deliver a few things—heavy things. Hope you're up for it?"

The owl nodded solemnly, as if fully understanding.

"I won't be able to go to the bank every time," Damien said, pausing to scratch the bird's head. "I've already informed the goblins to expect parcels of gold, and I've asked them to send receipts of evaluation and money transfer with you. Do you think that's alright?"

The owl once again nudged its head into Damien's hand, agreeing eagerly with the plan.

Damien smiled, "Then let me share another secret with you."

Standing up, he walked toward his desk, taking a seat and opening the book titled 'Ars Goetia'.

It had been a few days since he last visited the dungeon, and given his current circumstances, he knew he had to grow stronger—stronger and richer. The situation with Lucius Malfoy had made that much abundantly clear.

'71st Demon, Duke Dantalion,' Damien mused as he flipped through the pages. 'A demon capable of reading minds and manipulating one's conscience. Illusions and mental torment.' 

He shuddered at the thought. It wasn't just the fact that the demon could read minds; it was the sheer power Dantalion wielded to twist and control someone's thoughts. Damien didn't like the idea of his mind being bent to another's will.

'Will Occlumency work?' he wondered. 'It works against most wizards...'

But that was the problem. It worked against most wizards, not against someone as terrifyingly powerful as a Duke of Hell. 

Still, Damien was determined to keep his mental shields up. Though he wasn't particularly skilled at Occlumency, he would do his best. But unfortunately, all he could find on Dantalion was a picture of an ancient, devilish figure, half-burnt beyond recognition.

Demonology books were banned in nearly all of Magic Britain, making it nearly impossible to find information on demons without having some political connections. 

'Even if I had connections,' he thought, 'I doubt much would be openly available. The last thing anyone wants is too many wizards wielding ridiculous powers.'

Sighing, Damien resigned himself to the fact that for now, his only option was to rely on his mental strength—maintaining a strong barrier and hoping to avoid falling victim to any illusions.

"Hoot?" Zillion's voice cut through his thoughts.

The owl looked at him from the window, as if confused by the boy's distant thoughts.

Damien smiled and said, "You're right. It's better to face the issue head-on than waste time worrying."

With that, he opened the book, preparing himself mentally. He would wait until the clock struck six before making his move.

As the time approached, he grasped his wand and steeled himself for the journey —not forgetting the books meant for the sacrifice. Ars Goetia prompted him with a question, asking if he wished to travel to the dungeon. With a confident nod, Damien whispered 'Yes.'

In an instant, like always, his vision blurred, and his body went numb. The familiar shift in scenery was almost instantaneous, like being swept away in a powerful gust of wind.

He had grown used to the feeling of waking up on the cold, hard floor of the dungeon. This time, however, he didn't feel quite right.

"This doesn't feel right," Damien muttered under his breath.

Even before his vision fully returned, he felt a strange, but familiar sensation against his back. As he opened his eyes, his confusion deepened.

A wooden ceiling, the smell of lavender, and a warm room. 

He was grandly confused by the surprising surroundings.

Why? Because he was still in his room —he didn't teleport to a dungeon.

He recalled that he had bought a lavender plant a few days ago, placing it near his desk for its calming fragrance. He had also applied insulation magic to keep his room warm. But... why was he here?

Confused, he turned his head, seeing the same pot of lavender next to his desk.

He stood up slowly from the soft surface beneath him, recognizing it as his bed. He looked around: his clothes, his shelves, his desk. Everything was the same as it had been just moments before.

"What is this?" he muttered, a sense of realization dawning on him. "The trial starts with an illusion?"

His eyes quickly scanned the book, and this time, the word 'Escape' was written on the page.

Damien pinched his cheek, his heartbeat steadying as he confirmed that he wasn't trapped in a dream.

Then came the next test. Damien walked to his desk and pulled the cover off a book that had been resting there. The sensation of physically interacting with objects in the illusion fascinated him.

"Huh?" he murmured, his curiosity piqued. "This is strange..."

This wasn't like the trials he had gone through previously. Paimon had him tested in a dark dungeon, and Andromalius had an island. The dungeon, it seemed, was shaped by the demon who resided there. He had thought the trials were the same for everyone, but now it was clear that this place was molded to resemble Damien's own room.

Could this be a test specifically designed for him?

'Most certainly.'

He turned to the book again, only to find the word 'Escape' glaring back at him. 

'Escape where?' he wondered. 'Out of Hogwarts?'

It wasn't a particularly hard task to leave, but that didn't sit well with him. He looked around. Zillion was missing. If this illusion was a perfect replica of his room, then the owl should be here. 

Damien quickly recognized that he had been overthinking the situation. Perhaps he was making things more difficult for himself than they needed to be.

He decided to leave the room and headed straight for the hallway.

It was already past six, and the hallways were eerily quiet as most students had already made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Awfully quiet," Damien muttered, glancing around. He cast Revelio occasionally, hoping to find a clue or some sort of sign.

The magic surrounding him was demonic in nature, far stronger than any spell he could cast, so his efforts felt futile. If he weren't dealing with physical threats, the spells he knew were unlikely to work.

After a few minutes, Damien found himself in the Great Hall, glancing out the windows. Beyond the glass, the same beautiful forest stretched out, visible to everyone at Hogwarts.

He could easily break the window and walk outside, perhaps that would be the 'escape' the book referred to. But there was also a high chance it would be a mistake, which was why he didn't act recklessly. He continued walking toward the main gates, deep in thought.

But as he neared the gates, something clicked in his mind.

'Wait,' Damien paused, his thoughts racing. 'What if I'm supposed to go to the headmaster's office first? He's the one who grants permission to leave...'

It made sense. He would need permission from the headmaster to exit the campus, but perhaps not the building itself.

With this new direction in mind, Damien approached the gate, feeling a sense of resolve. He placed his hand on the door handle, relieved to find it unlocked.

What lay beyond, however, was nothing he could have expected—or wished for.

As the door creaked open, Damien froze. Inches away from him stood a towering figure cloaked in tattered black robes, the fabric seeming to absorb all light. A cold breath, as chilling as death itself, swept over him. Beneath the hood, there was nothing but a void, an empty, soulless gaze that seemed to pierce into his very being.

Damien's breath caught, and his lips trembled as he whispered, "Dementor…"

The Dementor's skeletal hand reached forward, its claws curling. Damien's chest tightened, his breath failing him. The warmth drained from his body, leaving only a gnawing, consuming despair.

And for the first time, Damien felt like he had failed a trial—and with it, his life.

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[A/N: 25+ Advanced Chapters on Patreon + Other Stories: https://www.patreon.com/Greedyfrog

P.S. Finally back after a long time, also came back with a DxD story. Check profile for more info.]