Chapter 1: When In Rome

Mephisto shoos the owl away from his desk, lips pulling down at the thin scratches left behind by the bird's claws. Meddlesome things. Honestly, it's about time wizards found a more efficient way of long-distance communication. The owl flaps her wings and situates herself atop the nearest bookcase, glaring down at him.

Taking his silver letter opener, he slices into the envelope and pulls out the letter.

There are very few things that can catch a demon king off guard. The King of Time? Even fewer.

This, however, required some serious reflection and a lot of sake.

Italy. He had been in Italy — Rome, to be exact. What better place to find poor souls to corrupt than the Vatican's doorstep? The place was near overflowing with guilty souls looking for redemption — or total damnation.

She had red hair, he remembers. Much like a coral snake, or an exotic tree frog, her hair caught his eye immediately. Rather than warn away the predators, it attracted him, drew him closer.

Upon reflection, she really hadn't been an easy one to persuade.

The next morning, when Mephisto watched the very pleasant view as she left his hotel suite, he really didn't think he'd done all that much corrupting at all.

"Ah, you must be Mr Dumbledore~" Mephisto says cheerfully, rising from his desk as the wizard steps out from the fireplace and offering a hand

The gentleman, in all his purple robed glory, smiles beatifically and takes the offered hand. "Albus Dumbledore, Lord Pheles. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

"But of course. Please, sit. Your letter was… enlightening," Mephisto begins, broaching the subject delicately.

Dumbledore sighs and nods. "Indeed. Lord Pheles, the True Cross Order is well aware of the existence of the Wizarding World, and our relationship has never been… easy, so to say. You are aware of our recent history."

Mephisto smiles pleasantly, politely, and sits back in his chair. "You are referring, of course, to your… war, as you called it?"

Again, Dumbledore nods. "Small in scale it may have been, however I'm sure the Japan Branch can appreciate that even the smallest of altercations can escalate into something far more horrifying."

Dumbledore is dancing around the subject, spiralling in closer and closer to the centre — the crux of the matter. "Life and death, war and peace — there are other things we must discuss. The hour must be late in Britain, after all."

Dumbledore smiles, eyes twinkling, and doesn't show even the slightest hint of discomfort — Mephisto is, reluctantly, impressed. "Quite right, Lord Pheles. As you are aware, Lord Voldemort's defeat twelve years ago was at the hands of none other than a baby boy: Harry Potter. Many believe this to be due to some extraordinary ability of the child; I have known otherwise since that very Halloween night.

"Lily Potter, the boy's mother, sacrificed herself for Harry by throwing herself between the curse intended to kill him. This sacrifice — an act of pure, unselfish love — became an immortalised protection in Harry's blood; also, in anyone whom shares Harry's blood. This has allowed Harry to live safely with his aunt, away from the danger of any of Voldemort's remaining followers, for the past twelve years. Recently…" Here, Dumbledore sighs. Mephisto, who had been growing rather bored with the tale of a child he already knows about, hones in on the old man: he looks very much the part of a weathered old man. "Recently, it has come to my attention that Harry's home environment has been less than ideal. I believed I had no choice but to leave Harry with his blood relatives in order to maintain the protection upon him, but — quite by chance — I recently happened upon an old tapestry belonging to the Potter family — a tapestry of the Potter family tree, that is enchanted to add every new member of the Potter line."

Mephisto's lips curl upwards in a smile that might just show a bit of fang.

"Harry Potter is not on that tapestry."

He can't help but grin. "And what, may I ask, brought you to the most esteemed True Cross Academy?"

Dumbledore meets his gaze evenly. "A sample of the boy's blood and a quick enchantment was enough to produce a true family tree. Lord Pheles, you are not all you appear to be."

Mephisto allows just a lick of his power to slither through into the aether, and the shadows in the room deepen and stretch. "My kind rarely are true to our appearances, as I'm sure you know. But, please, I simply must know — what do you intend to do with Harry Potter?"

That blue gaze doesn't falter, not once, and Mephisto's grin widens even more. He sees past the grandfather facade and into the darkest crevices of this man's heart: this man, with all his kind smiles and good intentions, knows deception and manipulation almost as well as Mephisto himself. "Despite your nature — and, by proxy, Harry's true nature — I believe it would be best if the boy were to stay with you."

"And if I were to refuse?" purrs Mephisto.

"Then Harry would stay with his aunt and uncle until the age of seventeen, by which age he is legally eligible to do as he likes, and he will slip through both our grasps — for good."

"Afraid of losing your toy soldier, Albus? Or do you, perhaps, care for him truly, and you simply fear that he might take after his non-wizarding side?"

"I am afraid that Harry will lose himself. However, given his unique situation, I believe it only fair to give him equal knowledge of both sides of his heritage — though I will admit, I fear the outcome."

Mephisto's heart pounds within his chest, positively thrumming with excitement. He laughs, clapping his hands together in his glee. "Well, Professor Dumbledore, when can I meet my dear son?"