The Prince Of Curses h.s.

Thirty five

Summoning the devil

A heavy breath left my lips as I stared down at the three words written in my spellbook. 

I swallowed a thick lump in my throat as my eyes focused on the page. 

Was I really going to do this?  

Shifting my gaze to the ash and bone sitting in front of me, I knew that there would be no going back after this. I invested so much time and energy to have an advantage over Harry. I was desperate for it. Desperate for revenge, for power, for control. Every passing minute I felt that hunger grow. All I could think about was how the past month of my life has been led by the hands of others. Maybe it wasn't hunger that fueled this desire— it was anger.

But that roaring anger couldn't quench the anxious feeling that fluttered through me. The last few hours of my life felt like a blur. A blur of anticipation and nervous tremors. 

It was well into the night. The entire castle was asleep at this point. Sleep pooled under my eyes, making them feel dry and heavy with each blink. Finding ash was the easiest, all it took was shifting through one of the many overused fireplaces in the castle. The bones, however, took some time. I ended up finding a few pieces deep into the kitchen. 

The spell didn't specify what type of bone it had to be, so I hope animal bones would work because I don't even want to think about the process of getting human bone. 

I inhaled a deep breath, my magic jittering inside me the way fizz does when it's trapped inside a champagne bottle. With a shaky hand, I grabbed the glass of ash and tipped over the lip, letting the soot spill to the floor. Once the circle was formed, I grabbed a few bones and laid them throughout the ash.

I grabbed the black book, holding it open between my thumb and finger as I stared down at the instructions. I bit the inside of my cheek as I reached for a sewing needle, pricking my index finger. I know I'd performed a dark spell before without giving a drop of blood, but right now I wanted everything to be perfect. If I were summoning the devil, the one that scared Harry so severely that he didn't even want to speak his name, then everything had to be perfect.

I muffled a hiss as the pain from the needle sent a shock down my finger. I dropped the needle in between the center of the book, marking my place between the pages. Slowly, I leaned my hand out, positioning it above the bone and ash circle I'd created. A drop of red blood seeped from my cut, kissing the tip of my finger goodbye before it parted ways from my skin.

Almost as quickly as it landed inside of the circle, bone and ash melted and fused together, forming an intense silver glow. My magic was sputtering inside me like a caged bird. My heartbeat quickened at an exceeding rate as I glanced down at the book and read the final step.

A heavy breath drew from me as I ignored the shiver creeping up my spine and drew out the name of the person I was so desperate to reach.

"The Devil."

The name was heavy and dark as it rolled off my lips. It felt dusty and unnatural, almost as if I hadn't been the one to say it at all. As the last syllable floated into the air, the silver light turned into a purple flame. My lips parted as I watched the magic work itself, the flame elongating until I was sure it would reach the ceiling. 

A sharp tug stretched along my magic, connecting me momentarily to the circle. The energy that was coming through the circle was... dark. I could feel its emptiness and hollowness spread throughout the room, engulfing the arid air and spitting it out cold and heavy.

My knees were pressed so firmly to the floor that I was beginning to think I would melt into it. I watched the flame, eyeing it and waiting for the devil to appear. Would he appear? What should I expect? Some beast? A man? Would he try to harm me for summoning him?