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“I warned you.” Rupert sent another burst of energy at the demon. “This is nothing like—”
“Chasing down an evil madman, one piece of his soul at a time?” Hermione cast a rather impressive-looking hex that seemed to confused the beast. “Maybe not. But still—”
The ax got stuck about halfway through the demon’s third neck, which only seemed to annoy it until Hermione added some sort of Slicing Spell.
Once they’d dispatched the other six, both sat panting on the ground. Hermione flicked her wand, and the carcass vanished.
“I may not be one of your Slayers, but it looks like you’re going to need my kind of help with these things.” She glanced around the grounds of the magical school. “And if they’re going to keep turning up here, I’m going to need yours.”
Rupert removed his purple blood-spattered glasses to clean them.
“The Venefido Demons are drawn to places of great power, and now that both of the Hellmouths are sealed, schools such as yours are the next most likely targets,” he agreed. “What did you have in mind?”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “I have yet to find a Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor for next term. You seem qualified.”
“I dare say.” And he did miss teaching, or at least training. He extended a hand. “Very well.”
Her grasp was firm, and he decided it best not to notice anything more about this woman who’d just become his boss, however temporarily.