Many Thanks to Fabian Bindle for becoming a new Patron! ❣️
★~(◠‿◕✿)
xxxxxx
Being the head of the maids, Amagi, was one of a kind, ultra high performance custom build created by Lucifer. While the rest of the produced units could handle standard work and defense, she possessed a superior processing brain capable of governing entire planet wide economies and military fleets.
She wasn't just a maid; but operational backbone of the Banfield Maids' territory. Her physical appearance was engineered to reflect standard otaku tropes, giving her a comforting and calm aura.
Featuring long, beautiful black hair (often styled in a neat cut or with a headband) and striking scarlet-red eyes. Showing with a large chest, a slender waist, and smooth gentle build intended to maximize comfort during physical contact or lap pillows.
True to her primary designation, she exclusively wore a traditional, detailed black and white maid outfit paired with a matching headpiece.
"Lucifer, what is this?" Burke felt his scalp crawl. The scene was still too strange for him to accept.
All these maids were connected to a shared network. They constantly converse and gossip telepathically behind the scenes, allowing to coordinate actions instantly.
Because they shared identical bodies, Lucifer had allowed them to express their unique personalities by wearing custom accessories. To ordinary humans, the maids look completely indistinguishable. However, he was the only person who could "instantly" tell them all apart.
Tateyama, who was a quiet and shy maid, already considering to express her individuality by running a personal side-store where she crafted and sold official "Lord Lucifer" fan merchandise in the Arkham Guild.
A simple-natured maid, Shiori, who was deeply envied by her sisters because she was the only mass-produced doll to receive a personal gift, a gold bracelet, directly from Lucifer when she played with bangs, and started chewing out of curiosity.
Arashima was an enthusiastic and aggressive maid who took pride in 'finding' highly unique personal accessories to make herself stand out from the rest.
Then a calm observant maid, Shirane who till now was quietly spending her time quietly studying "Human Behaviour" passing through Diagon Alley alongside her sister units.
While sharing the same hair type, they had changed how it was styled to present themselves for today. Using completely different hair ties, ribbons, braids, and up-dos to alter their silhouettes. Customizing themselves using distinct hairpins, specialized chokers, unique apron pins, and distinctive bracelets.
Because Lucifer could effortlessly perceive these minor accessory differences and individual personality quirks, the maids continuously looked for bolder, more personal items to make themselves stand out to him.
"Dolls," Lucifer said matter of factly, to emphasize so his guests wouldn't confuse them, "I'm an Alchemist. Using constructs to solve a labor shortage seems perfectly normal, doesn't it?"
"Yeah. Normal. Very normal."
Nicolas had already walked up to one of them, circling her and inspecting her closely. A real person would have snapped by now, but the maid named Marie was maintaining her professional smile, not the slightest hint of impatience.
"You little monster..." The old man muttered, clicking his tongue, "Setting everything else aside, just this human form synthesis alone is already beyond anything I can imagine."
"Of course it is," Lucifer said proudly, but he was devious enough to not mention each of the maids here were capable of destroying a Neutron Star, in easy words, the Sun itself, "That's one of my interested fields."
"But why not alchemical lifeforms?" Nicolas suddenly frowned at the boy.
"Cost-effectiveness..." He sighed with a visible amount of carbon leaving his mouth that evaporated, "You know how terrifying the time and material costs of true life are. Just these fifty Banfield Maids' would wipe out all my reserves, and I still wouldn't be able to 'finish' properly right now...."
Burke was too scared to ask what else in Salazar's name he needed to give these terrifying maids? He was already feeling inconspicuous as if he had come to a different world.
"And this is only the beginning. We'll need many more Maids in the future. I can't pour all my energy into this. Alchemical constructs or puppets are simpler, cheaper, and much faster for me to produce."
After hearing that, Nicolas fell silent. He had to admit Lucifer's reasoning made sense. But don't let the word puppet fool you. The technical sophistication behind Banfield's was anything but simple. Each one stored vast amounts of general knowledge, spoke more than twenty languages, and could communicate instantly through enchanted runic channels.
They could also upload documents and intelligence to a shared information repository, where everything could be accessed and retrieved at any time.
And since they were publicly meant for clerical work, Lucifer had secretly provided them with combat capabilities to even obliterate Dumbledore, if any wizard' or witch tried to do 'funny.' Even if one was damaged, he could simply make a new body, download the necessary data into it, and would be indistinguishable from the original.
Being robotic maids, they could externally be seen to have an emotionless personality, or be unquestionably obedient towards Lucifer, and were incapable of betrayal. Their nature made them have a purely logical mindset.
.....However, since they were born in Hell's fire, so chances of developing genuine emotions were also present.
'Rosetta Sera Claudeia
Akui Kanami
Mika Akui
Christina Leta Rosebreia
Marie Sera Marian
Nias Carlin
Kurt Sera Exnir
Darcy Sera Exnir'
When Lucifer finished demonstrating Banfield's full range of abilities, Nicolas nodded repeatedly, pleased by the steady evolution of his alchemy. Eustace, on the other hand, felt increasingly redundant. With these Dolls around, did he really serve any purpose at all?
"Of course you do," Lucifer said, reading his expression. He patted Burke on the shoulder, "No matter how capable they are, they can't handle unexpected crises on their own, and need to learn. That's where you come in. You make the calls, if you're unsure, you contact me..."
"That's right." Burke nodded firmly.
He decided then that he'd stop meddling in trivial details, wasn't interested in them anyway. He'd focus on exciting jobs and leave rest alone.
After a full tour of the guild headquarters, Lucifer took Nicolas and Newt home. Burke stayed behind with Banfield's to set up the venue and purchase the necessary stationery and supplies.
He also had a massive sign made and hung it at the entrance. The words 'Arkham Asylum Guild' glowed in seven colors, instantly drawing the attention of passersby and shopkeepers alike in Diagon Alley.
xxxxxx
At the same time, Grindelwald was negotiating with Dumbledore once again. The two were on a video call.
"You can bring Scamander," he said leisurely, "There are fewer old friends these days. We met in such a rush last time. I still have plenty to say."
Dumbledore frowned hearing that, he was now glad he had purchased a size bigger than usual WhatsApp to fit himself properly, otherwise his beard would have been cut, "I have no right to interfere in Newt's choices. He has his own life. Besides, I don't believe the two of you have much in common."
"Then bring that idiot Aberforth instead," Grindelwald said, dropping the pretense entirely, "He's your brother. Surely you have the authority to decide that, Albus."
'That goat-obsessed pervert actually dares insult me. Just because you're a Dumbledore doesn't mean I won't deal with you...' Grindelwald had always been small minded and vindictive. After spending so much time around the Devil, he realized he'd lost his small bit of restraint. All that was left was an impressive capacity for holding grudges. He really had been led astray by that kid.
While Gellert sighed inwardly, Dumbledore's frown, meanwhile, deepened. 'So you insist on taking one of them, no matter what?' Whether it was Newt or Aberforth, both had grievances with Grindelwald that could never be smoothed over. If I had to choose, I would rather send Newt... Aberforth is too impulsive. Even knowing he isn't a match for Grindelwald, he would still charge in headfirst. Another fight inevitable....'
But this wasn't a matter of choosing between them, he wouldn't betray either one.
"I will not use them as bargaining chips to compromise with you," Dumbledore said slowly, each word firm, "Gellert, don't forget. We signed a blood pact. Even if they came, you couldn't lay a hand on them."
"Of course I wouldn't forget," Grindelwald replied, idly toying with the said blood pact, "So this would simply be a friendly reunion. How could you call that a bargain? It's nothing more... than an invitation from an old friend. Since you're unwilling, then whatever happens next won't be my fault."
Not giving an answer, Dumbledore snapped his notebook shut and cut the connection. The call ended
"...."
The playful smile at the corner of Grindelwald's mouth froze for a brief moment, then vanished.
"Hmph."
"You dare hang up on me?" He was genuinely annoyed. Your brother has a foul mouth, and you're still protecting him?
"Aberforth is an idiot who loses his head at the slightest provocation. Once he strikes first, it won't count as breaking the blood pact..."
Grindelwald quickly found a way to satisfy his grudge. The pact prevented him and Dumbledore from directly attacking opposing wizards at will. But if the other party struck first, retaliation was 'fair' game.
Thinking of his upcoming visit to Hogwarts, he felt no rush at all. If you won't come when invited, then I'll come to you.
xxxxxx
Saturday arrived, and Durmstrang was still buried in ice and snow. Much like before, Dumbledore met up with Lucifer and the Ministry officials. This time, however, the lineup had changed.
Eustace Burke had joined them, while Babajide was nowhere to be seen. In his place stood the Vice president of the 'International Confederation of Wizards' from North America, a man named Pierce.
Although most of the captured Aurors had been successfully rescued, someone still had to take responsibility for the failed plan and its enormous risks. Babajide became the scapegoat.
In truth, he had done a solid job, and many people didn't want him gone. But he himself was determined to leave. Who knew what chaos Grindelwald would stir up next? His position would always be the first to absorb the pressure.
Better to step aside while he could, and leave the mess to someone else.
He had originally wanted Dumbledore to transition from honorary president to the real one. But the old bastard flatly refused. In the end, the position fell to Vice President Pierce. Once the procedures were complete, the vice would be quietly dropped.
Babajide had already returned to his hometown to live a peaceful life.
Grindelwald, for his part, gained a measure of respect for the old man. Not everyone could keep their integrity after reaching such heights. Most saw only the enormous benefits and let profit blind them to the risks.
"All right. His absence changes nothing," he said coldly, "The Confederation being here today is pointless anyway."
The undisguised contempt made Pierce's face darken further, but he didn't dare say a word, simply lowered his head so no one could read his expression.
Standing slightly behind Lucifer, Burke studied the man said to rival Dumbledore, a Dark Wizard more terrifying than Voldemort.
To be honest, he couldn't see any trace of a Dark Wizard in him at all. Those who delved into dark magic usually suffered irreversible changes to their appearance. The deeper they went, the uglier they became.
Grindelwald was the opposite. He looked like a dangerously charming middle-aged man. His eyes, in particular, were like invisible whirlpools, dragging in anyone's attention. Burke found himself staring, almost entranced.
To be honest, Gellert hadn't cared much about this tool Lucifer had chosen. But the night before, he had casually suggested that he try to sway Burke, cause he wanted to see how the man's girlfriend Carrow would react.
That was when Grindelwald took an interest, Anyone who could annoy the Carrow family was a talent worth nurturing. Still, now wasn't the time for manipulation.With the Arkham Asylum Guild as an excuse, there would be plenty of chances to interact with Burke later. No need to rush.
"Morningstar," he said at last, "the Guild you promised me should be ready by now, correct? Otherwise, I'll have no choice but to let my people force their way into neighboring countries. They've been itching for action lately."
Everyone's expression changed at once. Grindelwald handled setting the stage, what followed belonged to Lucifer. There was nothing left to negotiate this tim, it was just a press conference for his Guild.
When the Banfield Maids' appeared, the reaction was exactly what you'd expect: a wave of shock. And once people learned that every single one of them was a puppet, their understanding of Lucifer's alchemical skill shot up another level.
Pierce watched the eloquent boy onstage, the emotions in his eyes leaning unmistakably toward the negative. Sure, one day he would be at the helm of the 'International Confederation of Wizards', but he was still a North American wizard. And his country did not get along with this boy at all.
He had even suspected, at one point, that Lucifer was a decoy pushed forward by Dumbledore. A flashy genius used as bait to achieve some unspeakable agenda.
Later, he realized the truth.
This boy really was just that terrifyingly capable. So no matter how unpleasant it felt, Pierce had no intention of openly making an enemy of him. He wouldn't even try to trip him up unless he was absolutely certain he could survive first and then kill the kid afterward.
Unfortunately for Pierce, he had vastly underestimated Lucifer's mastery of the mind, not to mention his "Voice of Revelation" talent. Even the faintest trace of malice showed up crystal clear to his senses.
Flicking a glance at Pierce, that alone made him stiffen and immediately rein himself in, though he didn't dare do anything further.
Pierce's hostility was pitifully small, and Lucifer couldn't be bothered to care. If he went after everyone who felt even a hint of ill will toward him, Hogwarts would have descended into chaos long ago. Forget the eagle and badger houses. Even in Gryffindor, plenty of students were obedient on the surface while simmering with resentment underneath.
And Slytherin? That was a pipe dream. That was normal, he wasn't foolish enough to think everyone would like him, especially not people who'd been steeped in blood-purity ideology for years.
As long as they behaved themselves, he wouldn't interfere. If they jumped out and tried to bite, he'd simply wipe them out. Lucifer continued with the press conference, laying out the Arkham Asylum Guild's basic structure and its current functions.
At the heart of it all was the membership system.
First, anyone could register for 'free' as an Honorary Member of the Arkham Asylum Guild. Honorary Members received no benefits. They only gained the right to post and accept missions through the guild.
For now, though, Honorary Membership functioned as a kind of pass. Once you had it, your past identity, whether as an Acolyte or anything else, no longer mattered. As long as you followed local laws, the local Ministry of Magic was required to treat you equally.
That condition was essentially a multinational wizarding passport. Without Grindelwald applying constant pressure, reaching such an agreement in peacetime would have been nearly impossible.
Some people only behave when you point a wand at them. Still, once things stabilized, Grindelwald would keep expanding outward. And when that happened, the value of Honorary Membership would only keep rising.
Above that tier came the truly distinguished, Arcane Members.
Arcane Membership was divided into eight levels.
Members enjoyed 'free' lodging, priority mission listings, a fixed monthly stipend, reduced commission cuts, and other perks. Lucifer didn't go into much detail. Once you signed up, you could see everything for yourself.
The people present were all senior Ministry officials. Money and stipends didn't stir much emotion in them. They looked at things from a different angle. Many realized something at the same time. Arkham Asylum Guild members were a lot like temporary workers.
When you needed help, you posted a mission and had them handle it. When you didn't, you tossed them aside without paying a single sickle more. Compare that to the Ministry, where hiring one person often meant supporting them for life. No wonder so many Ministries were afraid to recruit and instead kept squeezing their existing staff dry.
Their opinion of the guild rose noticeably. The idea of hiring Acolytes to work for them, with Grindelwald unable to say a word about it, was downright exhilarating.
Dumbledore, meanwhile, remained silent throughout. He could see Lucifer's ambition clearly, and it was hard to believe this was something a third-year student should even be contemplating. Back in the day, Voldemort hadn't been this bold.
But Dumbledore hadn't opposed Voldemort because of ambition. It was methods that repulsed him. The man was heartless, using destruction as intimidation and slaughter as a means of wielding power.
Lucifer was different, going with the flow, balancing force with incentives.
There was just one thing Dumbledore couldn't figure out. Grindelwald was cooperating far too willingly. What exactly was he getting out of this, and what sort of scheme lay hidden underneath?
"This badge is your sole proof of identity." Lucifer held up a small, round badge. It was simple, almost plain, with only a shiny Black Rayquaza coiled across its surface.
That was the Arkham Asylum Guild's emblem. Originally, he had wanted to use a panda as the emblem. But once Usagi found out, she threw a fit and pestered him nonstop. In the end, he had no choice but to switch back to her likeness.
Usagi was really absurdly jealous.
"Give me ten thousand slots to start with," Grindelwald said casually, which alone made the Wizards' present here stand on their backs straight, "Mutual exchange is a good thing. The Wizarding world has been stagnant for far too long. Each generation is worse than the last. It's time for real change."
"There are enough badges for every wizard in the world," Lucifer replied in a plain side glance at his forehead, "But each person has to go to a guild branch to complete registration before they can use one. Once registered, their magic is bound to their identity. It can't be forged or stolen..."
The press conference wrapped up. Eustace left with Banfield's to handle deployments in Germany, after which they would move on to other countries.
Grindelwald handed guild affairs over to Rosier, left Durmstrang, and traveled to a castle in Munich. Dumbledore, meanwhile, brought Lucifer back to school, Hogwarts.
xxxxxx
Germany, Munich City
An elderly man led him inside with deep respect, stopping outside a suite. Several people were already gathered in the hallway. From within came the cries of a woman in labor.
The cries didn't last long before they were replaced by a clear, jubilant shout.
"It's a boy! A boy!"
"That's wonderful!"
The crowd erupted with excitement. Inside the room, Rouse was even more overwhelmed. He carefully held wrinkled newborn in his arms, the baby's cries sounding like heavenly music to him.
"I have a son. I have a son!"
In the Wizarding world, passing on the family line mattered no less than it had to kings. And it was always better to be a boy.
"Rouse..." Solen called softly. Watching the tender scene between father and son, a tired but genuine smile appeared on her face.
When he heard her voice, the smile on Wilkinson's face slowly faded, his expression turning complicated.
"Solen, I've prepared a gift for you."
She froze. "A gift? What kind of gift?"
At that moment, doors were pushed open, and Grindelwald walked in with several people behind him, "You've always wanted to meet me, haven't you?" He greeted calmly with a charming smile, "That's your gift. He invited me here to grant your wish."
"Gr-Grindelwald, sir?" After a brief moment of panic, Solen forced herself to calm down and struggled to sit up straighter.
"Spare me the pleasantries."
Fixing his gaze on her, the sheer pressure of it made breathing difficult. "What exactly is your Caruso family plotting? Say it yourself."
Solen's face changed instantly.
xxxxxx
The 'founding' of the Arkham Asylum Guild stirred up waves across the world. Just the joining of several thousand Acolytes was enough to land this civilian organization's intelligence reports on the desks of every major power.
Newspaper coverage also drew the attention of many destitute witches and wizards, who suddenly saw a new way to make a living.
In the Magical World, the gap between rich and poor could be enormous, but in raw power between wizards wasn't nearly as wide.
Even a well-trained Auror could get overwhelmed by three to five adult wizards. With a surprise attack, even students could take down a professor.
When people like that banded together, they formed a force that couldn't be ignored. As for how stupid Fudge was, he didn't realize any of this until everything was already in motion. Only then did he discover that the Arkham Asylum Guild's headquarters was in Diagon Alley, and that Lucifer was behind it.
When a good number of Ministry employees started registering as members to earn some extra money on the side, Fudge finally panicked and rushed to Hogwarts to confront the boy, it was clearly not a pleasant conversation.
When Fudge left, his face was livid. He nearly ran into a young wizard without even apologizing, hurrying off down the corridor.
"What did you even talk about with Fudge?" Hermione asked curiously inside the Room of Debauchery.
"He wanted control over the guild," Lucifer said lightly, putting up a yellow lantern, "I shut him down." Then shrugged nonchalantly at her stupified face, "Fudge is an idiot, and he assumes the worst of everyone. He thinks everything should be handled by the Ministry. If they can't deal with it, just let it rot. But another group stepping in to solve problems? In his eyes, that's stealing his authority."
"...Surely, the Minister can't be..."
"Look, there are three hundred registered guild members now. Just yesterday, two werewolves caught a wanted criminal. They handed him over to the Ministry, but that alone poked right at Fudge's nerves."
Hermione's brows were tightly knit by the time he finished. She couldn't help complaining, "That's such an incompetent government. You're clearly doing good. Even if they won't help, trying to stop you is ridiculous."
Indeed, then her boyfriend added righteously, "Wasn't it always like this? I am just helping mortals."
Hermione fell silent, which said lots.
"Let's drop that," Lucifer said, with a cough, waving a hand, "I've got a new kind of special training for you today."
"What kind?" She asked with a bit of suspicion in her voice, "It wouldn't leave my knickers wet, right?"
The boy stood up and opened his right hand. A timeworn, ancient looking book appeared above his palm. It opened on its own, pages flipping rapidly with a soft rustling sound, glowing with a pale blue light.
"Let me see... ah, here we go."
A beam of light flew out of the book, gathered itself, and formed a hazy human figure that landed in front of Hermione.
"Today's lesson is... intensive training in the Blasting Curse. Ready?"
She had never seen magic this bizarre before. Who was that blue Lucifer?
"Ready?"
When he asked if she was, Hermione nodded on instinct. But she regretted it immediately after.
The hazy blue Lucifer stretched out both hands, and a fireball shot toward her at terrifying speed. It wasn't until the scorching heat washed over her face that Hermione snapped back to her senses.
She screamed and hurriedly flicked it away with her wand, "Arsehole, you jerk! That was a sneak attack!"
"You said you were ready," Lucifer replied calmly. He dragged a chair over and sat down at ease, while the glowing figure didn't slow down at all. One fireball after another took shape, endlessly, without pause.
Hermione tried to defend with a 'Shield Charm', but under his precise control, every Blasting Curse struck with just enough force to cancel it out. Her casting speed couldn't keep up with the fireballs forming, so she had to rely on other methods.
Either knock them aside with her wand, or dodge with quick footwork.
The fireballs grew faster.
Hermione's responses became increasingly strained, until one of them singed her bushy curls. She let out another violent shriek,"L-Lucifer, I swear to Gryffindor!"
To him, the girl looked like an enraged little lion, adorable in her fury, Lucifer only grinned widely, "I've already prepared hair-restoring potion and conditioner for you. Clothes too, as many as you want. That soft, cushy, textbook-style training doesn't work anymore. If you don't get hurt, you'll never get past that mental block...."
That smile looked like something straight out of a nightmare to Hermione. A handsome one sure, but still a nightmare no less.
Yet in Lucifer's eyes, she saw only resolve. That was when Hermione understood that there was no escaping today.
Truth be told, her psychological issues really were serious, he couldn't think of a better way to deal with them, so he resorted to the most primitive method there was.
Break through the line you fear the most, and everything after that becomes easier. Once you're used to the consequences of getting hurt, fear loses its grip.
It wasn't just for this upcoming competition. If Hermione ever wanted to stand on her own, she needed a steady, unshakable mindset.
The blue figure, which had paused briefly, gathered another fireball and hurled it straight at her.
xxxxxx
At the same time, inside the Ministry of Magic.
Cornelius Fudge, returning in a foul mood, convened a meeting the moment he got back. Big matters were handled in small rooms, and in his view, situation was serious enough that only the Ministry's absolute top brass could attend.
Bones. Scrimgeour. Crouch.
By rank, Lady Greengrass also qualified to be there, but this time, she absolutely could not attend.
As for Barty Crouch, while he wasn't fully trusted, Fudge still acknowledged his competence and loyalty to the Ministry. And lastly, there was one person with little real status but a great deal of Fudge's trust, who remained in the office as well.
Dolores Umbridge.
The room was heavy with silence. Fudge's expression was ugly. Just thinking about how a teenage boy had brushed aside every one of his demands without hesitation made him feel like his title as Minister was a complete joke. His usual genial smile had curdled into gloom.
"You're all aware of the Arkham Asylum Guild, yes?"
Everyone present nodded briefly. How could they not be? Even setting aside the papers shouting about it nonstop, a massive new building had appeared in Diagon Alley.
You'd have to be blind to miss it.
Well, Fudge might actually. Between endless banquets with old families, sleeping off his hangovers in the office all day, and heading straight back out again at night, it was entirely possible.
"I hate change, ladies and gentlemen,"
Fudge said, taking a deep breath.
"Our world has always been well protected by the Ministry. Everyone has their role, and people live calm, stable lives. But now I see very troubling signs."
"Lucifer Morningstar. A child with a bit of talent who's taken on far too much that isn't his place. I admit he's made contributions to the magical world, but some things cannot be mixed together... The Arkham Asylum Guild is one of them."
"Using money and power to lure wizards into working for him? That's a direct challenge to the simple order our society is built on!" Fudge's face flushed red as he panted heavily.
All his life, he'd walked on thin ice, living in the shadows. During Voldemort's reign of terror, he'd been nothing more than a minor deputy director, too small to feel the storm.
Then Millicent Bagnold's term ended. Barty Crouch collapsed after his wife's death and his son's trial as a Death Eater. And just like that, 'fortune' fell into Fudge's lap. He became Minister for Magic, and everything changed.
So he was the chosen one after all, Only he could save Britain. Just as he was ready to spread his wings and imprint his will across the country, he realized something horrifying.
A vast web had already been woven over the magical world, one that had existed for decades. It was spun by an old man with a silver-white beard and piercing blue eyes. Fudge himself was caught in that web. If he wanted to weave his own, he first had to draw closer to the old man, earn his trust and support, and only then would he have the right to do so.
Fortunately, that old man seemed genuinely uninterested in power. Over the years, he'd made no excessive moves and had even worked well with Fudge. The two had repeatedly displayed a strong friendship and cooperative relationship in public.
Even so, Fudge remained wary. What he wanted wasn't coexistence, but to be the only one with the right to weave the web. And now, before the old problem was solved, a new one had appeared.
A newcomer wasn't as deeply rooted or as prestigious as the old one, but he was powerful nonetheless, and far more aggressive. His naked ambition was already on full display as he began encroaching on Fudge's territory.
The timing was infuriatingly delicate. If this had happened ten years later, or even six or seven, when Fudge's term was nearing its end, he wouldn't have been so threatened. He might even have traded favors using the authority he had left, after all, expired power meant nothing.
But now, the British magical world could only have one voice. His voice.
As Fudge launched into a relentless verbal assault on Lucifer and the Arkham Asylum, as if they'd committed some unforgivable crime.
However, each person in the room had their own thoughts. Amelia Bones's expression shifted. Fudge had developed a deep grudge against her husband, that was bad news.
You could mock Fudge's intelligence all you wanted, but you could never underestimate the power the Minister for Magic actually held.
Crouch, on the other hand, remained unmoved, mind wasn't on this at all. He barely even registered Fudge's main point, he was hesitating.
He'd heard rumors Grindelwald would be leading a delegation to Hogwarts. Shouldn't he take this chance to meet him?
Since his escape from prison, he had displayed a charisma and strength that surpassed Voldemort, convincing Barty Crouch that he might be able to change his son. Scrimgeour and Umbridge, meanwhile, looked openly approving.
She didn't even need explaining. If Fudge claimed a pile of shit tasted like chocolate, she'd loudly agree, and if necessary, even volunteer to try it herself.
As for Scrimgeour, at his core he was the same type of man as Fudge. He valued power above all else.
The only real difference was that he still had a trace of integrity, could endure torture without giving up information, and die a resolute, defiant death.
"Minister, I fully agree with you," It was Scrimgeour speaking up first, breaking the dead, "I've been studying the Arkham Asylum Guild these past few days, and I've found that its transaction model is likely to breed more evil and gray areas. The Ministry should have the right to supervise it."
'Yes! You're right', Cornelius Fudge nodded in satisfaction. He'd never found Scrimgeour so agreeable before, "And what do you think, Barty?" he asked, turning his gaze to Crouch.
"Hm? Oh, sorry, I was reviewing the relevant laws," Barty Crouch replied vaguely, completely out of it, "I'm in charge of 'International Affairs' now. On matters like this, we should probably hear Director Bones's opinion"
Fudge frowned slightly, but nodded.
In the end, pressure landed squarely on Amelia Bones. Everyone present knew her relationship with Greengrass 'family' and with Lucifer was anything but "ordinary."
Under that weight, she still spoke up for her man, regardless of what others could interpret, "Minister Fudge, I understand your concerns. But at present, Arkham Asylum hasn't violated a single law. As for the gray areas you mentioned, I think Knockturn Alley is a 'far' more obvious example."
"Bones, this isn't the time to consider personal relationships," Fudge said sharply, eyeing the 'Head of Magical Law Enforcement,' who was expecting a newborn with a mysterious wizard in a few months, he had personally approved her "Paid Maternity" leaves to gain Department's favour when needed.
"I admit I'm personally close to Mr. Morningstar," Director Bones took a deep breath, she relaxed her face to appear calm, her bulging stomach outwardly moving with it, "But have you considered the consequences? You know his temperament. And beyond that... the Arkham Asylum Guild also serves as a buffer for contact with Grindelwald's side. If we act rashly now, it could trigger serious international repercussions. Are you certain 'you' can bear that cost?"
Fudge was shaken to the blood. And so the meeting ended without a resolution, but that didn't mean he'd given up.
After the meeting, Amelia Bones let out a quiet sigh. When she got home, she sent Lucifer a message as a warning. She knew the Arkham Asylum Guild's emergence had both pros and cons, but at least for now, the benefits outweighed drawbacks.
That was why she supported it. But what could she do? Their Minister was overly sensitive, and deeply greedy. The message went unanswered for a long time, she glanced at the sky and guessed her husband had already gone to bed, so she didn't push it further. Then went to Evelyn's bed 'for' a massage.
In fact, he hadn't. Inside the Zebel household, Lucifer smiled warmly at the girl with braided hair, "Jeanne, are you getting ready to pray today?"
The girl with a pig hairband, showing a real cross tail nodded obediently. Lucifer being the owner, coaxed her gently, this plus sized girl was wearing a cow printed bikini, his tone like a big bad wolf tempting a little white bunny.
'Ding~!' He dingled the golden bell on her pet collar, it was time for Saint Jeanne's 376th breeding.
"I don't think you're being devout enough. Come, pray in my arms. That way, 'you'll be closer' to the Lord..."
xxxxxx
"Oh right, Lucifer," The next day, Hermione suddenly asked during the 'Care of Magical Creatures' class as she helped clean mud off a Niffler's fur.
"That spell you used yesterday to summon that strange blue figure. What was it? I've never seen anything like it in a book."
The young witch's hair was noticeably shorter than yesterday, and her face still looked a little pale. The training from the day before had really put her through hell. Even though Lucifer had deliberately held back, it was still the first time in her life she'd ever been injured by magic.
Thankfully, he had prepared in advance. One bottle of 'full-potion' later, her injuries had healed quickly. Only her hair would take some time to grow back.
"That?" Lucifer grabbed a Niffler that was running wild, pulled out a Galleon to distract it into behaving, and brushed it halfheartedly with a toothbrush, "That's a spell I made myself. It's still a work in progress."
"A work in progress?!" Hermione exclaimed. The glowing figure from yesterday had been like magical turrets, continuously firing Blasting Curses without wands or incantations. Just seeing it had been enough to make anyone's scalp tingle. And he was calling that... unfinished?
"Yeah. Right now I can only summon one or two magical sprites at a time, and I still have to control them manually... They don't have enough autonomy. Once it's fully developed, it won't be this much trouble, maybe even split myself here too."
Seeing the longing written all over Hermione's face, Lucifer shoved the Niffler in his hands straight into hers.
"Don't even think about it, Hermione. This spell is extremely difficult. You need a... very deep understanding of magic before you're even qualified to consider it. When your level is high enough, I'll definitely teach you."
Only then did the little witch nod happily, he looked at Hermione's lightning, fast change of expression and sighed helplessly. Finally, understood why the Sorting Hat had hesitated for so long when choosing her House back then. Hermione's hunger for knowledge was practically identical to Rowena Ravenclaw's.
If she'd joined Ravenclaw, she might've fit in even better. Over there, knowing more and reading books was all it took to be impressive. Things weren't as complicated as in Gryffindor where students were honestly the hardest to deal with, or to understand how their brains work.
If you studied too well, they called you a bookworm. If you didn't talk much, they thought you were anti-social. Showing off and breaking school rules was fine, but the moment you got caught and points were deducted, they'd immediately turn on you and accuse you of lacking team spirit.
Gryffindors, what the hell do you want? Lucifer 'figured' that if he'd stuck sorted into Slytherin, the number of people he'd beaten up in Gryffindor as enemies would've been at least ten times higher, but since he was a lion, he restrained a lot.
Snakes knew how to read the situation. If they couldn't win, they backed off. Lions didn't. They just got more stubborn, more defiant, refusing to admit defeat. Even now, the mere presence of him treating school's 'Whomping Willow' made many remain hostile----
When class ended, he dropped several Galleons into the Niffler's belly, ignoring its utterly heartwarming look to be adopted, and walked away without a second glance.
"Fawkes."
Lucifer called softly. A moment later, the phoenix arrived in a trail of fire. If Dumbledore had seen this, his feelings would've been complicated. Even he didn't summon Fawkes as smoothly as he did, and the Phoenix never responded to him this quickly.
"Here you go," Same routine as always, he pulled out a pile of specially mixed, high-nutrition snacks, 'Blue Spider Lily,' and fed them to the bird.
Fawkes ate happily, giving an occasional shake of his feathers, Lucifer fought the urge to laugh as he gently smoothed his plumage.
Honestly speaking, phoenixes in this world weren't particularly good looking. It was only when they activated their powers, wrapped in brilliant flames and radiating a sacred, vibrant aura, that they really shone.
But Fawkes looked a lot cuter than before now. After all, anything that turns round and 'fluffy' automatically becomes adorable, he was currently very close to becoming a ball.
Everything Lucifer fed Fawkes was premium nutrition, packed with energy. It would help the phoenix recover more quickly and return to its peak after its next renewal.
The excess energy just hadn't been fully digested yet, so it was temporarily stored as extra roundness.
Even Dumbledore didn't think there was a problem. He was only worried that Lucifer had been treating Fawkes too well lately, and that the bird would throw a fit later if the food quality ever dropped.
"Fawkes, how about another match tonight?"
The phoenix, busy stuffing his face, nodded halfheartedly, Lucifer called it a match, but to him it was just playtime, so of course he didn't refuse.
xxxxxx
Late at night, he had Fawkes carry him to the North Pole, without wasting a shred of magic or mental energy. He let the bird rest for a bit, carefully explained rules for this round, and only then did their contest officially begin.
Seeing how serious the kid was, Fawkes got serious too. He went all out. In a very short time, one human and one phoenix crossed the entire planet, stopping at the halfway point to rest and let their bodies recover slightly from the nonstop spatial jumps.
This time, Lucifer recovered first. His combined talents had long since pushed his recovery speed into absurd territory, and he was the first to leave the South Pole.
"Chirp!"
Fawkes refused to give up. He forced his slightly trembling body forward to chase after the boy, but then-
"Burp!"
He'd been eating a bit too well lately, had to pause for a moment to take a bathroom break before setting off again.
"Huh?"
"Hey! James, did you hear that?"
Two fully geared figures poked their heads out of a nearby building. "I swear I just heard a bird?!"
"I heard it too... Tony," James nodded blankly. He raised a hand and pointed at the flag planted at the South Pole, "And I think I saw a flash of fire there. What the hell..."
They were researchers stationed at an Antarctic research base. After searching around and finding nothing, they chalked it up to hallucinations and retreated back inside.
But when they reviewed the surveillance footage, both James and Tony shot to their feet. Their ears and eyes hadn't been lying. A bird really had appeared. Not just a bird, but a person as well.
Appearing out of nowhere, disappearing just as suddenly, like a mage from legend who could teleport.
They exchanged a look.
"Report this immediately!"
xxxxxx
North Pole
Lucifer lay sprawled on the ice and snow, gasping for breath. Like a madman, he'd run back and forth between Earth's two poles within two and a half hours.
Ten minutes later, Fawkes finally reappeared, he forced a smile at the chubby bird.
"Fawkes, this time you lost."
"'Chirp chirp!"
The phoenix cried out unwillingly, but still leaned over, rubbing his face against the boy's cheek.
His condition today really hadn't been great, he'd eaten a bit too much that afternoon. But judging by how far ahead Lucifer had been, even without that mistake, the outcome probably wouldn't have changed. Maybe he would've lost by a few minutes less.
....
"What are you two doing?"
He asked, just waking up to see Usagi and Fawkes locked in a staring contest.
"Wuu~!"
Seeing that Lucifer was back from his tiny nap, Usagi immediately abandoned Fawkes and flew over, circling him excitedly, the bird also fluttered down to land on his shoulder.
"Chirp?!"
"You know how it is, I'm human, people grow up and get stronger. Like Dumbledore."
"Chiiirp!"
"What? You're saying this isn't growing up, it's... evolving? You can't just throw that word around. Anyway, all you need to know is that I'm fine. Better than I've ever been."
Hm?
As Lucifer teased Fawkes and Usagi, a sudden disturbance rippled through the power of time, a glimmer of insight flashed in the boy's eyes, and he quickly understood what had happened, his wife Ellie had delivered a message.
"So someone saw us..." he muttered.
"Makes sense. The Antarctic research station is right next to the pole. Fawkes and I weren't exactly keeping a low profile, and we made a pretty big scene."
In the 'future' she glimpsed, the report from those two researchers caused quite a stir, especially since there was video evidence.
But now that Lucifer knew about it from her, it wasn't a threat anymore. Getting anything out of Antarctica wasn't something that could be done quickly, so there was no rush to wipe their memories. He could just drop by sometime in the next couple of days.
Stretching lazily, he glanced at the endless ice and snow. Even though his magical barrier blocked out the cold entirely, the scenery still made him uncomfortable due to that Quidditch match. So he didn't linger, instead taking Fawkes and Usagi back to Hogwarts.
As soon as they returned, Usagi took off for the atmosphere. She needed to hunt for food, her stockpile of meteorites on Earth could no longer sustain her evolution. From now on, she had to rely on herself.
Fawkes, meanwhile, had grown even more attached to Lucifer. Just staying close to him felt comfortable. Under the influence of being created from the 'first big-bang light' which had started coming back to him.
So, he didn't bother returning to Dumbledore's office and followed Lucifer straight toward the dormitories. But as soon as they entered the castle, the boy noticed people gathered by stairs.
Snape was facing Lupin, Harry, and Ron. The two sides were clearly in an argument.
Making no effort to hide his presence as he walked in, and all of them turned to look at him at once.
"Lucifer?"
"Morningstar, what are you doing outside?" Snape asked, frowning.
Lucifer walked over, puzzled, and pointed at the Phoenix on his shoulder, "Fawkes has been eating a bit too well lately. I took him out to burn it off...."
That excuse sounded official enough.
Snape and the others assumed it was Dumbledore's instruction and didn't press further.
But Lucifer wasn't done. Curious, he asked, "Why aren't you all in bed this late? What's going on?"
"Hah! That's something you should ask Potter," Snape sneered at the green doe eyed boy, "Thinking they can't be discovered just because they've got some little trinkets. Wandering around the castle at night. Who knows what kind of shady business they're up to...."
"I wasn't!" Harry shot back immediately, he was just given the 'Marauders' Map' by Fred and George, and was so excited, he took off on a nightly adventure.
[PS: Lucifer had returned it to Ginny, she delivered to the twins, stating the Map belonged to James Potter, Fred and George being the good kids they were, kindly handed over the family heirloom.]
Lupin frowned as well.
"Snape, I already told you. I asked Harry and Ron to come find me. Don't assume the worst of your students."
"They're not my 'students," Snape replied calmly, pressuring on the last word, if he didn't appear clear, "They're just part of my teaching assignment."
Lucifer got the round picture. Harry and Ron had been caught sneaking around at night. As for why they were out... he didn't care. Judging by how things were going, this could drag on forever, he stepped in to smooth things over.
"No matter what, Harry and Weasley did break school rules. But Professor, expulsion's a bit much. Night wandering.. isn't that serious. How about we each take a step back and just deduct thirty points from Gryffindor?"
Ron opened his mouth. Why did thirty points sound as cheap as three when Lucifer said it? But no one here was asking for his opinion.
Since even Morningstar had said this much, and Lupin was backing them up, there was no point arguing further. Snape snorted and agreed.
...Lupin wanted to suggest deducting fewer points, but when he saw the boy's smile, the words stuck in his throat. In the end, he could only nod.
From somewhere nearby, the house point counter rattled noisily. Under Harry and Ron's devastated stares, Gryffindor's score dropped by a noticeable chunk.
"Perfectly resolved," Lucifer said, clapping his hands and yawning. "Alright, everyone, I'm heading to bed."
"Wait," Lupin called out.
"What is it, Professor Lupin?" He asked, turning back.
"That guild you set up is pretty interesting. I wanted to ask, can I register as a member now?"
He'd only agreed to teach at Hogwarts for one year. By the final lesson of the term, he would reveal his identity as a werewolf. Lupin had been worrying about finding work after the school year ended. He couldn't exactly live off James' gift forever.
Then Wizarding guild appeared. Taking missions for bounties, minimal contact with people, no need to worry about background checks. It suited him perfectly. Especially after seeing other werewolves join the guild and successfully complete missions, his resolve had only strengthened.
Lucifer nodded with a grin.
"Of course, Mr. Burke's eldest son is the guildmaster right now, I will let him know. Just have Eustace let you pick the good jobs first... It's not even against the rules. That's basically what he's been doing anyway."
Burke's role as guildmaster was mostly ceremonial. Who knew where he'd run off to, on a mission now? Lucifer couldn't be bothered to manage him, besides that way he would Lupin reform Sirius Black for the possible Ministry Hearing.
"Snape, Lucifer's more like a Head of House than you are," Lupin remarked casually as he led Harry and Ron away.
The Head of Slytherin's, Severus Snape was left standing there, his face flushed red. What did he mean, Morningstar was more like a Head of House? He was respecting student input, that's all!
Just like back in school. Lupin always looked like the most honest one, but in reality he was the sneakiest of them all, the one who came up with plenty of bad ideas behind the scenes.
With an angry flick of his sleeve, Snape stormed off. He wasn't about to take that kind of mockery lying down. 'Just wait, Lupin. The next batch of Wolfsbane Potion would be unforgettable to swallow....'
xxxxx
The next morning, change in Gryffindor's points was quickly noticed by students coming down for breakfast. The Slytherins were delighted.
As for Gryffindos, to their surprise, realized they were already numb to it.
This kind of thing happened a few times every year, it really wasn't worth making a fuss over.
The only question was, which heroic idiot had pulled it off this time?
Lucifer was busy today, with no time to spare for whatever amusing chaos might be unfolding around the school.
He slept in comfortably, then, after getting up in the morning, took Fawkes with him to Antarctica again to deal with the memories of those two researchers.
Well, took wasn't quite accurate. The fat bird insisted on following him, impossible to shake off no matter what he did.
And because it wasn't a competition anymore, Lucifer deliberately slowed his pace while traveling, treating it as a chance to get familiar with Shikoku's acquired power, 'Shadow Traversing', it did not just move through space; but could merge your physical form into shadows and darkness, or be itself, to appear simply as a black cloudy figure passing through.
This allowed him to seamlessly glide through the environment completely hidden from sight, functioning as a top-tier mobility and stealth tool. Even so, his speed ended up noticeably faster than yesterday.
Now, he 'finally' understood why a phoenix's Apparition felt so effortless. When he used Shikoku's magic, which had similar patterns to the Phoenix travel, he couldn't sense space resisting the teleport at all. On the contrary, it felt as though the door was wide open, letting him enter whenever he wanted. Not only did it consume less magic, it also felt mentally effortless.
At present, the maximum distance of his 'Darkness Teleportation or Shadow Traversing'' was more than double what it used to be with Igris, and the strain on his mind was still well within limits. In just two jumps, he went from the Scottish Highlands to a pasture in New Zealand, casually watching cows graze.
For the remaining distance, Lucifer stopped using it and instead transformed into a streak of black, flying straight toward Antarctica.
His flight speed had increased significantly as well. As he experienced the changes in his magic, he realized that faster flight naturally demanded more power. Not just to propel himself forward, but also shielding his body from being crushed by overwhelming wind pressure.
In the past, his total magical reserves would steadily drop under this kind of strain. Now, recovery and consumption was almost perfectly balanced.
.....
South Pole,
"Gentlemen."
Lucifer stepped inside. The research facility door opened wide behind him, and a blast of Antarctic wind swept through the room, instantly alerting the researchers.
"Who's there--wait, you're the one from yesterday!"
"Shh."
"Quiet, fellas. You saw something you weren't supposed to. Relax. This will be over very soon..."
Lucifer raised a finger, before long, the room fell into an eerie silence. Everyone inside collapsed unconscious.
"'Obliviate."
After modifying all their memories and destroying the recordings, he didn't rush back. Instead, treated himself to a special lunch right at the South Pole with Ren Yamashiro.
When the new week arrived, Hogwarts Castle was at its absolute best, practically gleaming as if reborn.
The Heads of houses also sent out a notice through chat groups, requiring every student to be neatly dressed. As a result, Ginny dragged Lucifer over to help Luna remove all the decorations from her robes.
This was the 'first' time he had ever seen his niece, Luna show genuine frustration and irritation. It was surprisingly entertaining.
"Once today's over, I'll put them all back for you," Ginny said gently to reduce her pouting levels, "I really like your style, but on formal occasions we need to show respect for others, right?"
"Umm..." Luna nodded softly.
Lucifer on the other hand couldn't stop giving loud chuckles, when she glared at him with her dreamy eyes, "Ginny, the way you just talked sounded just like Mrs. Weasley."
The ginger head too shot him an annoyed look. She had brought him over to help, not to watch the show. But the more upset Luna got, the more fascinated he seemed, and now he was even making sarcastic comments.
"Come on, let's go. The professors said we have to be there by five," Ginny notified the two. And so after casting a quick 'Cleaning Charm' on Luna, the two girls walked off hand in hand.
This time, the smile vanished from Lucifer's face. He could only hope Darcy wouldn't provoke Hermione and Daphne too much. Lately, he'd been extremely careful when talking to Miss Valentine, hinting both openly and subtly that they were all his 'fallen wings'
No idea whether it was working.
xxxxxx
The Great Hall
The crowd flowed into the hall, which was several times brighter than usual. Even candle holders had been meticulously polished by house-elves and now reflected a warm golden glow.
Filch was, dressed in a musty old suit, strode between the long tables, inspecting each student's attire. Anyone who spoke too loudly earned a vicious glare, and he wouldn't move on until they quieted down.
All the professors were present at the staff table except McGonagall, who stood by the main doors to greet the arriving guests.
The scale of this competition wasn't on the level of the 'Triwizard Tournament' which was under the banner to be held next year, and there weren't nearly as many visitors. And so there was no need to send all the students out onto the grounds to welcome them.
As Deputy Headmistress, McGonagall had the authority to handle it herself, she alone would suffice.
Soon, lots of movement could be heard outside. Students from their table were craning their necks eagerly, wondering which school would arrive first.
"Welcome, Madame Maxime," They heard Professor McGonagall say using the most polite tone, seventh year Gryffindors ever heard in all their days at Hogwarts, and felt deeply betrayed by the gesture, doubting life.
'Madame Olympe Maxime', Headmistress of Beauxbatons, entered with her delegation. The boys and girls alike couldn't help gasping. She was enormous, her size might even be bigger than Hagrid's who choked at the staff table. But almost immediately, their attention was drawn to the graceful 'figures' following behind her.
Suddenly, someone broke from the line. All anyone saw was a flash of silvery-blonde hair, few black curls at the ears and dark blue eyes before she reached the Gryffindor table.
In 'full' view of Hermione and Daphne's stunned expressions, she wrapped her arms around Lucifer and, without the slightest hesitation, kissed him deeply, a kiss filled with longing and affection. 'Nailed it!'
......
That's it!
The Great Hall did not merely explode; it shattered into a chaotic theater of roaring whispers, dropped cutlery, and the distinct sound of teenage hormones colliding with high-stakes political drama.
Every student, no, person in the room was wide awake now. Forget the competition, Screw it. This was 'far' more interesting! Lucifer's heart went cold, but his body reacted on instinct, responding to Darcy's passion. If he didn't enjoy this while he could, he was afraid he'd never get another chance.
But even the warmth and tenderness of a Veela couldn't drown out the murderous glare from a bushy haired girl, certain young lady, or Astoria's wounded, resentful look.
Susan, Hannah, Tracey's were good girls who had openly accepted their place in Lucifer's Harem, and voiced very few complaints, just carrying bitter expressions in their hearts.
This was 'karmic' retribution, truly.
"Wooow..."
Everyone's gasp was quiet on its own, but together they blended into a single sound filling into the Great Hall. The unmistakable noise of people enjoying drama. Madame Maxime didn't move forward at all, she simply stood there, smiling as she watched.
In 'etiquette-obsessed' Beauxbatons, Valentine's behavior was undeniably rude. But this was something Maxime had explicitly permitted, even encouraged. From their first meeting, she had recognized there was something extraordinary about Lucifer Morningstar. As time passed, she received more and more information about him from every direction.
Maxime was almost certain that in the future, at least half of the Wizarding world would bear his name. Since, she couldn't lure him to Beauxbatons, then would capture his heart instead. In the 'face' of fat benefits, etiquette suddenly seemed far less important.
And young people chasing romance and love could be a little reckless, right? That was perfectly acceptable. She wasn't some rigid old fossil, after all. If Beauxbatons students knew what their Headmistress was thinking, they would absolutely be rolling their eyes. 'You, who even regulates the length of our strides, are suddenly this open-minded?'
Dumbledore, meanwhile, was smiling as he enjoyed the lively, spring-filled scene. He was twinkling more happily than he had in a long time, especially when his gaze swept over Daphne's flushed face, Astoria's pout that could hang a kettle, Hermione clenching her wand, and Ginny pressing her lips together with a serious expression.
While the table of Hufflepuff was more of 'faux-pas,' minor grudges, or hidden eyerolls, nonetheless that only made him happier, He instinctively raised his glass, about to clink it with Snape in celebration.
Unfortunately, Severus was far too absorbed in the spectacle to notice him at all, "Morningstar. Oh, Morningstar. So even you have a day like this?"
Dumbledore nodded at his words and almost regretted not inviting Beauxbatons earlier. If he had, Lucifer probably wouldn't have caused him so many headaches.
"...Sister," Astoria tugged anxiously at Daphne's sleeve, she had gone into coma, and wasn't responding to any kind of stimulus, or fondle of round cheeks, "She's stucking her tongue out into Lucifer's mouth..."
That snapped Daphne Greengrass back to her senses, and so did Hermione, the 'official girlfriend,' no more standing on the sidelines as the cuckolded victim. She yanked Lucifer hard, pulling the two apart, it was alright when it was going on behind her back, but why were you ruining everything in public?
Did she have no face or authority on her boyfriend at all? People would think she was an idiot!
"You shameless woman! Are you some kind of pervert?"
Well done! Countless Hogwarts students clenched their fists in their hearts, silently cheering Granger on.
That's it, Don't embarrass Hogwarts. Fight her! Take her down!
But the very next second, once they got a clear look at the girl's face, onlookers' eyes filled with nothing but awe and infatuation. They had never seen such a beautiful girl. Every detail looked like it had been meticulously sculpted by God. She seemed to glow, and every smile and 'frown' tugged at the heart.
"Umm..." Darcy Valentine lowered her head, looking at the bushy-haired girl, who had spread her arms like an overprotective hen in front of Lucifer. This was their 'first' meeting, yet each had heard the other's name countless times. She raised an eyebrow and quickly assessed Hermione in her mind, "Aren't you quite attached?"
Completely out of her depth dealing with a Veela's casual confidence, a hopeless schoolgirl who thought she could intimidate her way into keeping her boyfriend's attention.
Noticing the rigid, defensive posture, she glanced, Hermione, the girl was physically angling herself to shield Lucifer, eyes narrowed and chest puffed out like a maternal bird defending her nest. To Valentine, this.... overt display of territorial anger looked desperate, unrefined, and deeply amusing.
The girlfriend he so talked about had
warm honey-brown shade's colour, styled in thick neat waves that framed her face rather than wild frizz. It was practical and pinned back just enough to keep out of her eyes while studying. Darcy viewed this style as pretty, but entirely too sensible and lacking the glossy, wind-swept glamour.
Hermione was completely flushed with a bright, hot pink blush from pure anger, dark expressive brown eyes that were currently narrowed into slits.
Her lips, naturally a soft pink pressed into a thin, tight line of fury, she possessed an undeniable classic British beauty but was ruining the aesthetic by scowling like a gargoyle.
Ignoring her, she gazed behind, at the Greengrass next, Daphne was indeed quite pretty. That round little face was cute. Not the same type as herself. In fact, silver-haired girl behind her had even better looks.
"Miss Granger, Miss Greengrass, is it?"
The older Valentine curved her lips into a beautiful smile and greeted in her English still tinged with a French accent, "Thank you for taking such good care of Lucifer. If you ever visit France, I will be sure to host you two properly."
That hostess-like tone instantly set Daphne's hackles up, "You old woman'! If you're feeling horny, go find a harpy. You think you can taint the Morningstar family bloodline? Even if Merlin himself showed up, it wouldn't happen. I said so!"
Darcy Valentine's beautiful eyes were immediately filled with fury. In one sentence, Daphne had stabbed straight at two of her weak points. Age and bloodline. Being older than Lucifer wasn't really a flaw right now. If anything, being a bit years above meant developing earlier.
But bloodline?
She had never believed there was anything wrong with being a Veela, was even proud of it. But in the broader Wizarding world, mixed blood like hers was often viewed as lower than even Muggle-born witches and wizards.
"Little girl, where are your manners?" Darcy snapped coldly, "I was just greeting you, and you respond with personal insults?'
"You call that a greeting?" Daphne shot back, more so enraged than Hermione, the real girlfriend was, "Do greetings involve sticking your tongue in someone's mouth?"
'MORE! Mooooreeee!~'
The students were having the time of their lives. They silently hoped the fight would escalate, the next clash becoming fiercer than the last.
But Lucifer? Our poor boy was falling apart. He stood numbly behind Hermione, his eyes completely empty of light, had run countless simulations, and not once had he seen anything this ridiculous. And yet somehow, unexpected worst possible outcome happened.
First meeting and it was already like Mars crashing into Earth. There was still more than a month to go, Lucifer didn't even dare imagine how bad things would get. What a trash combo, Rouse... you bastard who roped this Dueling Tournament onto the surface.
'And Grindelwald... you ruined me.
Wait. Wait, wait, wait--Grindelwald? Dumbledore?!' A bit of light finally returned to Lucifer's eyes as he turned toward the head table, only to nearly choke with rage. The old man showed no concern whatsoever. Instead, he was enthusiastically chatting with an equally amused Snape, pointing and whispering as if they were enjoying a show.
"Hm?"
Suddenly, Dumbledore felt a chill run down his spine, looked down to see Lucifer sneering at him. At some point, a wand had appeared in the boy's hand, which he casually waved in blatant provocation.
The Headmaster's smile vanished instantly, and hurried down from the head table. He had a strong feeling that if he kept watching, he might just end up 'forcing' the birth of another Voldemort.
"Madame Maxime, welcome. Welcome to Hogwarts!" Dumbledore greeted her warmly with a hug. Maxime had to bend down quite a bit to complete the cheek-kissing greeting. Once that was done, he sighed theatrically at the three girls still bristling with anger.
"Youthful energy. Just watching it makes me 'feel' decades younger."
Maxime who enjoyed the show from a higher platform, smiled faintly, "Dumbledore, you're hardly old. The Wizarding world still needs your strength. Do take care of your health."
Making his voice acting like a wall, Dumbledore temporarily was cutting off the clash of tempers and allowing reason to retake control. Only then did Darcy, Hermione and Daphne realize where they were. They shot each other, one last 'fierce' glare and reluctantly calmed down.
Miss Valentine stepped back behind her Headmistress Maxime and dipped into a small bow, apologizing, who smiled and patted her head before letting her rejoin her group.
Then she leaned closer to Hogwarts eldest and said softly, "Dumbledore, it seems children have already made the choice for me." He nodded slightly and, with a hint of schadenfreude, arranged for the Beauxbatons students to sit at the RavenClaw table.
While Lucifer's waist took another sharp hit from his girlfriend.
At the Ravenclaw table, where the Beauxbatons delegation was now reluctantly settling under Dumbledore's orders, minds were already treating the scene like an ancient runes puzzle.
"Hear me out," Terry Boot whispered loudly, leaning over his mashed potatoes, "Morningstar's survival rate for the next 'twenty-four' hours is hovering somewhere around three percent.... Did you see Granger's wand hand? She didn't just grip it; her knuckles turned the color of parchment."
"Forget the numbers, look at the magic!" Cho Chang murmured, her eyes wide as she watched the residual silver butterfly vapor of Darcy's Veela allure slowly dissipate into the rafters, "That wasn't just a greeting. That was a declaration of ownership in front of four different houses. She basically planted a flag on him."
Over at the Slytherin table, atmosphere was far darker, a tense mixture of pure-blood outrage and intense envy. Blaise Zabini let out a appreciative whistle, leaning back in his bench, "You have to respect the absolute audacity. Walking into an enemy castle... and taking the prize before the tournament even starts? Greengrass looks like she's about to invoke a blood feud."
Pansy Parkinson sneered, though her eyes kept darting back to Darcy's flawless, glowing complexion, "Typical French exhibitionism. No class. No restraint, sticking her tongue down his throat before the soup course? It's vulgar..."
"Oh, shut up, Pansy," Theodore Nott muttered, staring blankly at his plate. "If a Veela did that to you, you'd thank her. Morningstar is just living the dream we're all too terrified to admit we have."
"It's the hair," Tracey Davis said, her voice dripping with a bitter, dangerous sarcasm as she glared at Darcy's silvery-blonde curls, "Clearly, our mistake was not having hair that magically glows in the dark. Next time Lucifer walks into the room, I'm going to set my own head on fire. Maybe... then he'll notice me before someone else eats his face."
........
Meanwhile, at the Hufflepuff table, the silence was deafening. Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott sat shoulder to shoulder, a unified front of polite, localized misery. They were the "good girls"—the ones who had accepted their place in Lucifer's orbit without throwing tantrums. But everyone had a breaking point.
"I just... I don't understand," Hannah whispered, her fingers aggressively tearing a bread roll into tiny, microscopic crumbs, "We stay quiet. We don't make scenes, and follow the rules. And then 'she' walks in, looks like a literal angel from a Renaissance painting, and just... takes our?"
Susan Bones didn't look up from her goblet, her knuckles white as she gripped the golden stem, "It's the message, she didn't look at any of us or at Hermione. But right through everyone, straight at Lucifer, like the rest of the world was just background scenery.... If Granger doesn't hex her into next week, I might do it myself. My aunt is the Head of Magical Law Enforcement; I can probably get us off on a self-defense plea."
......
Back at the Gryffindor table, territorial lines were drawn so deeply they might as well have been carved with a 'Diffindo Charm'. Hermione Granger was practically vibrating with a hot, pink fury that seemed to radiate heat into surrounding air.
"A greeting she said?" Hermione's voice hitched an octave higher, her eyes flashing dangerously as she stepped a foot closer to Lucifer, her wand still twitching in her right hand, "She called that a 'greeting, Miss Valentine? In Britain, we use words! We shake hands! We do not attempt to perform an amateur tonsillectomy on someone else's boyfriend in front of the entire staff table!"
"Oh, look," Darcy murmured, her French accent thick and dripping like honey over broken glass as she smoothed down her blue silk robes over the table, "The little bird has learned how to chirp. Tell me, 'chérie, does your authority over him always require this much shouting? It looks very exhausting."
"You—!" Hermione took a step forward, but Ginny Weasley suddenly stood up from her bench, her lips pressed into a thin serious line which Dumbledore had noticed from afar.
"Step back, Hermione," Ginny said, her voice surprisingly cool but laced with the unmistakable threat of a 'Bat-Bogey Hex.' She turned her sharp gaze onto Darcy, "Listen to me, Beauxbaton. You might think you're special because you've got a bit of creature inheritance. But this is Hogwarts, if you think you can just march in here, ignore the rules, and treat our boy.... like your personal buffet, you're going to find out exactly why Gryffindors handles the dangerous beasts."
"Manners, little Weasley," Daphne Greengrass hissed from a few metres away, her round face still flushed with a mixture of shock and sheer aristocratic princess outrage, "Don't turn this into a house brawl. This is a family matter... This French harpy just tried to taint the Morningstar bloodline! Lucifer, say something! Don't just sit there looking like a deflated 'Puffskein!"
Up at the high table, the professors were experiencing their own version of the drama.
"Five galleons," Professor Sinistra whispered, leaning past Flitwick toward Sprout, "Five galleons, say Granger forgets school curfew by midnight and locks the French girl in a broom closet."
"I'm not taking that bet, Aurora," Sprout chuckled, shaking her head as she watched Dumbledore frantically try to smooth things over with Maxime, "But did you see Minerva's face? I haven't seen her lips disappear like that since the Weasley twins turned the second-floor corridor into a swamp...."
Indeed, Professor McGonagall was staring down at the Gryffindor table with an expression of profound, existential despair. She had come forward when the kiss happened, now turned slowly to Snape, who was still wearing an expression of dark, unadulterated joy.
"Severus," She said through her gritting teeth, "Do something, Morningstar is about to be dismantled by 'eight' different young ladies, and the Beauxbatons headmistress is treating it like an advertisement for her curriculum...."
"Why should I interfere, Minerva?" Snape replied, his voice a low purr of pure satisfaction, "For three years, Mr. Morningstar has glided through this castle as if the laws of gravity and decorum do not apply to him. To see him finally brought low by the simple, predictable folly of teenage entanglement... it is, quite frankly, the most educational display this hall has seen in a decade."
"He has a wand out, Severus! Only you can control him, if I do say so myself...."
"Then let us hope his shield charms are as advanced as his reputation suggests."
As the tension finally began to simmer down under Dumbledore's heavy-handed grandfatherly intervention, students slowly returned to their meals, though no one was actually eating. The gossip was moving faster than a Firebolt.
Lucifer stood entirely frozen, his mind a blank slate of pure survival instinct as he felt the heavy, suffocating weight of eight different female glares locking onto his position.
Beside Daphne, Astoria Greengrass was pouting so hard her lower lip was practically trembling. She reached out, her small fingers giving her older sister's sleeve a sharp, resentful tug, "He let her do it," she whispered, her voice a mix of a whine and a threat, "'He didn't even try to bite her tongue off, Daphne. I'm telling mother."
Before Lucifer could even formulate a defense from the side of Gryffindor, Hermione's hand clamped down on his right thigh, her fingers digging through his crotch with terrifying accuracy.
"'We," Hermione's voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet register that promised hours of interrogation in the Common room, "are going to have a very, 'very' long talk about international relations, Lucifer."
And with a sharp, parting glance toward the Ravenclaw table where Darcy was casually sipping her pumpkin juice with a victorious smirk, Hermione led her target's face away, staring at the entrance of Great Hall that was vibrating with glorious, messy energy of the most entertaining start-of-the-end term feast in Hogwarts history.
.......
When Madame Maxime first brought up the Dueling tournament, Fleur Delacour famously 'flipped' her silvery hair and declined with a classic haughty sniff. In her mind, competing against "British schoolboys" and her school friend/rival, Darcy Valentine, was beneath her.
She viewed Darcy's aggressive, public chasing of Lucifer Morningstar as desperate and unrefined. Before the delegation left, Fleur reportedly told her classmates.
"Let Darcy go to that damp, drafty castle to chase her little boy-toy. While she is busy making a spectacle of herself in front of ze English, I will be mastering.... 'Dark Arts' matrices in Paris. We shall see who holds true power when she returns."
Madame Maxime intentionally left Fleur behind as a tactical move for the Triwizard Tournament. She knew that if she brought Delacour, the pure-blood British press (and families like the Greengrasses) would instantly be on high alert against a high-profile Veela.
By leaving Fleur in Paris and sending Darcy Valentine instead, Maxime was using her as a stealth weapon.
She was younger, seemingly more reckless, and could easily bypass Hogwarts' defenses under the guise of "youthful romance" to capture Lucifer's heart without triggering an international scandal.
Hermione would actually not draw a wand before everyone here to get another dose of humiliation, but she was not about to swallow her words.
"Our students are bound to be emotional when they meet after so long.... There will be plenty of time to reminisce during this exchange," Dumbledore said cheerfully, papering over chasms with one breezy sentence. The crowd could only fall silent, no wonder he was Headmaster. No one else could lie with open eyes on that level, not even on a broom.
A few minutes later when the Great Hall was quitened down, Professor McGonagall led a colourful group inside, consisting of two adult wizards, a man and a woman, followed by seven students.
Their Headmaster Dumbledore rose, and everyone followed, applauding their guests. Lucifer's blurry eyes roamed over the visitors, Castelobruxo's leopard patterned robes nearly blinded him, they practically hurt to look at.
Beauxbaton's group, by contrast, looked 'far' more traditional, regular wizard light sky blue robes with high collars and embroidered emblems on the chest and cuffs to mark houses.
Under normal circumstances, Lucifer would have started harder to note more details. Right now, he could barely save himself. Who had time to care about the school from America?
Offering a few more ceremonious words to welcome the delegations, Dumbledore then introduced the chaperones for students.
Alessio Vela, Castelobruxo Professor of Transfiguration.
Isabella Voray, Professor of Special Potions.
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