Kind of a funny little thing I'm doing to try and get my sorry self writing again.

I figured, having seen some others, I'd take a whack at this. A number of mine will come with snippets as one-shots or open ended stories if someone else wants to run with them. If you want to, PM and let me know. Also, let me know what you think.

Disclaimer, I own neither the Harry Potter series nor any other series mentioned or involved in this. If you believed that I did, there's a pretty good chance you can't read this anyways.

Professor McGonagall,

We apologize, but we see no need for our beloved little brother to attend your school. He is already excelling at his current studies, public and private, has already moved up several grade levels for academic achievements, mastered numerous forms of combat and is still studying others.

As things stand, we believe his studies would only suffer were he to attend your school, which does not even seem to offer classes on the basic sciences as required by almost every government on this planet for schooling students past primary school, let alone any of the advanced classes that would provide any challenge for Harry.

We believe this ends our business, please do not contact us again,

Scanty Akuma
Kneesocks Akuma

08080Years earlier08080

Vernon Dursley stared at the two girls in front of him, standing in the middle of his sitting room. Neither one looked more than maybe five years older than his own boy, but both had him scared shitless.

Possibly because they both had red skin, spade tails, wings and horns.

"You want fame and money, don't you Mr. Dursley?" The one horned girl asked

"'I'd sell my soul', you did say the magic words, Mr. Dursley," The darker haired one pointed out, "And with such conviction, too."

Vernon flinched at the word 'Magic'. He'd never really thought something like this would happen. He'd been having a bad week, mostly because he got passed over for a promotion for the dumb-ass, fresh from university son of the CEO. Add into that, he had to do extra work for the lazy bastard, and one frustrated utterance later, he was staring down a pair of demons. Needless to say, he was as scared as any normal, church going man would be.

Using speed he hadn't shown since his youth, Vernon bounded over the couch and ripped a crucifix from the wall, pointing it at the pair, "BEGONE DEMONS!"

...

...Nothing, there was only silence.

The lighter haired one adjusted her glasses, "I will applaud the fact that that was probably the most exorcize you've done since the sixties, Mr. Dursley, but we do have other appointments. So, if you would please," She motioned him towards his chair, but her attention was caught but a glimpse of something under the stairs. It was only for a moment, but that was long enough.

"L-look," Vernon stuttered out, "It's just been a bad week, I-I really didn't mean-"

"So I take it you're scared of losing your soul," Glasses asked, "Then what if we offered an alternative?"

"A-alternative?"

The other demon looked surprised as well. Normal protocol for a hesitant 'client' was deceptions and half truths, 'What do you really need your soul for?', 'It's like an appendix.', 'Do you really think hell is that bad?'. But alternatives were one of the last resorts, and usually required authorization from higher-ups (figuratively speaking, of course).

Glasses simply sat and straightened her skirt, "Yes, Mr. Dursley, all we really need is a soul, like, say, the boy under your stairs."

Vernon looked to be ecstatic as the other demon pulled her partner close, lowly hissing in another language "Kneesocks-san, what in Lucifer's name are you doing?"

"Trust me, Onee-sama, the fat whale's soul is coming our way eventually anyway, but that boy, I can sense another soul in him, an evil one that could very well be a boon to our future, besides, think about it," Kneesocks pulled her sister close, "A boy who will grow into a man, a man we can shape, a man who will follow our Ruruus, the perfect man for us, and we still get another soul for our quota."

The other demon growled, thinking for a moment, before sighing, "If you're wrong, YOU will have to explain this to our superiors, children's souls are almost useless to them."

Smiling, Kneesocks turned back to Vernon, "So, Mr. Dursley, do we have a deal?"

Three weeks later, Vernon Dursley was indeed rich and was on the front page of every major European paper...

...As the mastermind of the biggest pension fraud in history, charges that were only aggravated when the neighbors noticed the sudden disappearance of the Dursley's nephew and the lack of a missing persons report, neither of which Vernon had any explanation for.

And there you go, please review