In all of his years as a wizard, Harry Dresden has only summoned the wrong demon once. It was an unfortunate mishap, primarily because he’d been working with bad information about a curse that someone had been suffering, and it had ended with his lab nearly exploding and a bad luck demon running amuck through the streets of Chicago.
Thankfully, Bob had the wherewithal to have him prepare some extra wards that night, a giant circle around the lab that he would not normally have used; it had taken some time to get it set up, too, especially since he had to install bits of the brass in neighboring property and on the street in front of his apartment house. He’d had to be extra careful to secure the panels properly against each other in order to make it a perfect, unbroken circle, too. The bad luck demon had managed to escape his lab, but it couldn’t escape that larger circle, which allowed him to send it back to hell.
So it’s kind of a surprise to him as he’s standing in the basement’s basement (what normal people would call a sub basement) just outside of the brass circle laid into the floor that he has not, in fact, summoned Chaunzaggoroth as intended. This is made obvious by the fact the demon standing in the circle is a bit more scantily clad and a thousand percent more... shall we say curvaceous than the intended recipient of his convocation.
The wizard shifts his weight from one foot to the other, raising a fist to his mouth to clear his throat. The tie for the fluffy white robe he’s wearing brushes against the floor near his slippered feet - odds are good she can probably tell its cold as balls in the sub basement, mostly because it’s basically just a big stone box buried underground.
Behind him is a long table littered with different magical implements and ingredients. A shelf hangs on the wall to his left with a lit candle on either end and a stack of raunchy romance novels that lean against what looks like a human skull with lots of runes etched into it. There are wooden steps that lead up to an open trap door on the far side of the room, and tinny music can be heard filtering down from those steps.
“Um. Hi. I think I dialed a wrong number.”