Special Potions?' Lucifer's gaze lingered on the young, sun kissed witch, and soft brown eyes. Maybe she was the one who brewed those 'Transformation assisting' potions Professor Flitwick had mentioned?
Her expression was lofty, and nose tipped down at everyone like she owned the place, something about her just screamed 'Malfoy energy', blonde curls which had exact shared tinges of Draco's. Curvy in all the right places, she had more than a few students gulped down pumpkin juice, but she already wore a ring on her wedding finger.
Castelobruxo was seated at the Hufflepuff table.
Dishes continued to bloom across the tables in a feast fit for the Welcoming Banquet. But after that bit of theater, few had an appetite, small knots whispered, eyes drifting toward the Gryffindor table.
Lucifer was unchanged, thick skinned enough to act as if nothing had happened. He chatted with Granger, and from time to time leaned past to give her a few pecks on her cheek, but Daphne's face was considerably darker, she looked like she had swallowed a Dungbomb.
Some students tried chatting with the guests. Castelobruxo posed no language barrier, only the occasional unfamiliar accent. Beauxbatons was not about to send students who couldn't even speak English, they had undergone a few lectures.
With the shared Latin roots, English was among the required 'foreign' tongues for them to learn.
That left only one school.
Durmstrang.
A ripple of unease spread through the Great Hall. News had already leaked that one leading it was none other than the Dark Lord himself, Gellert Grindelwald.
Hogwarts students remembered him all too well. Especially that sea of raging blue fire. If not for Dumbledore, the school might have been reduced to ashes. As the tension thickened, the final guests arrived.
"Welcome, Grindelwald... sir,"
Professor McGonagall's words were although polite, but her tone was full of resistance.
A hearty laugh followed soon after.
"Minerva, don't be so distant. Decades ago, you were bold enough to challenge me. That immature 'Transfiguration' magic of yours is still fresh in my memory."
The students exchanged stunned looks. Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House? Immature Transfiguration? Did those words even belong in the same sentence?
"So arrogant," Ron muttered lowly.
"Shut up!" Fred snapped, uncharacteristically serious as he barked at him, "Ron, don't bring trouble down on the family. Keep that drafty mouth of yours closed!"
Ron had never seen Fred this angry.
Percy, Ginny, and others all shot him looks sharp enough to kill. His face flushed red as he lowered his head.
Harry opened his mouth, wanting to comfort his friend, but couldn't find the words. He agreed that Ron shouldn't be talking recklessly at a time like this. If Grindelwald heard him, how could the Weasley family possibly bear weight of anger from a Dark Lord at the height of his power?
Dumbledore wasn't omnipotent. He couldn't protect everyone at all times. Otherwise, the Potters wouldn't have.
Finally----
McGonagall entered the Great Hall with a stiff expression, leading the Durmstrang guests inside. Gellert Grindelwald instantly became the center of attention, nearly every gaze in the hall locked onto him.
Seeing the middle-aged man in a black coat, those different coloured eyes, with wild white hair and an air of untamed confidence, many people shared the same thought.
This "Dark Lord" was so cool.
A person's charm didn't come from looks alone. It's shaped by how they speak and act, their presence, past experiences. All of it layered together into a temperament that's uniquely their own. Grindelwald was, undeniably, a man of great charisma. His ideals, actions, and above all that unshakable confidence lent him an irresistible allure.
Otherwise, how could he have utterly captivated Albus Dumbledore, nearly leading him down an entirely different path? So when Grindelwald appeared, when he simply walked in through the doors, it was enough to make many hearts waver.
'Hmm...'
'I should let that brute Cocytus see my brilliance.'
Yup, Grindelwald wasn't thinking about Dumbledore at all. He was busy imagining how to show off to Cocytus. It couldn't be helped. In that study space, his status was painfully low.
He couldn't beat the strongest woman present, Makima. He felt deep sadness and regret about doubting Mazikeen to be the weakest one, and got his dignity torn to shreds. As for the Saint Jeanne (Devil's urinal pig?) whom Lucifer brought to cleanse his soul a few days ago... that was just a brainwashed house pet. Picking a 'fight' with it would only make him look even more pathetic.
And the men? Well. He couldn't beat a single one of them either.
Grindelwald suddenly realized, to his astonishment, that only way left for him to raise his standing was to gain real power in the outside world. So what if you're good at fighting? What good is brute strength when you're out in the world?
What matters is the background, Influence, Authority, how could a musclehead, an illiterate girl, an office shut-in, or some lovestruck teenage idiotic pig compared to him, the Dark Lord whose sneeze could shock the world?
"Welcome, Mr. Grindelwald."
"And Welcome to the delegation from Durmstrang."
Dumbledore stepped forward to block his path. Grindelwald's wandering thoughts snapped back to the present. Looking at the old man's utterly businesslike expression, he let out a quiet, mocking chuckle.
"Albus, are you really welcoming me? If you truly were, you wouldn't have shut me out last time. For all I know, you're guarding against me, charming your students right now."
Indeed that was his plan, Dumbledore had clearly been seen through, yet his expression didn't change in the slightest. Their private relationship had eased considerably compared to before, but he had never once lowered his guard around this man.
"Last time, you came with decades of rage from imprisonment," he replied back calmly, "I wanted to welcome you, but reality didn't allow it. But things are different now. I'm welcoming you in your capacity as Headmaster of Durmstrang. Is there a problem with that?"
Dumbledore glanced around. The Great Hall had gone deathly quiet thanks to the explosive tension between them. At the high table, whether Hogwarts professors or the Heads of the visiting schools, everyone was watching Grindelwald with grim expressions.
Even Daphne's attention had shifted. She was now focused on watching the drama instead of worrying about becoming it.
Lucifer, on the other hand, was delighted. He happened to meet Dumbledore's gaze and gave him an encouraging look. With more than a little schadenfreude mixed in. 'That's it, Headmaster. If I'm suffering, you're suffering with me.'
But then his thoughts drifted back to what had happened between Darcy, Hermione and Daphne, and he couldn't help blaming himself. He had really handled the situation terribly. No, terribly didn't even begin to cover it. Letting Valentine kiss him was a mistake, and not defending her after Daphne insulted her greatly was an even worse one.
Guilt weighed heavily on Lucifer as he turned the problem over and over in his mind, trying to figure out how to fix things, all while half-listening to the drama unfolding in front of him.
"Oh..."
"I see everyone's doing quite well at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said lightly, "I imagine the children wouldn't be too eager to go with you to Durmstrang. Don't you think?"
"Then let's wait and see," Grindelwald replied with a meaningful smile, "There's plenty of time ahead. We'll have lots of chances to interact. I hope the students of Hogwarts won't disappoint me. After all, the ones I brought are Durmstrang's elite."
"I have the same confidence in my students. They are second to none."
With that cold nod, their exchange came to an end, leaving people to breathe a sigh of relief, otherwise they would have to let the food go, and hide under the Dining table.
"'Please, take your seats."
But trouble immediately arose over the seating arrangements. Originally he wanted to have Beauxbatons's visiting students at Gryffindor table, however cause of a certain witch, Dumbledore had to change his mind, and put them at RavenClaw.
Castelobruxo was officially suited for Hufflepuff, while Slytherin would host Durmstrang, then it only left his own Gryffindor house with no guests,
that's a no-no, right?
....Sending a group of pure-blood supremacists to Gryffindor? Grindelwald was having none of that. He 'firmly' chose Slytherin instead, leaving Professor McGonagall and the young lions feeling more than a little awkward. Did they really have such terrible popularity?
But there was nothing they could say now. All you could do was swallow their complaints and keep quiet.
And then...
A 'feast' just as extravagant as the one on the 'first' day of term appeared on everyone's plates, putting away the light snacks which had been offered earlier, this one included menus of the visiting schools. The students which had been waiting forever to witness this very moment and were already starving from before, having to hold back, now quickly lost themselves in the foreign cuisine.
Possibly out of spite toward Darcy, Hermione was cutting Lucifer's meat who hadn't eaten much earlier and piling food onto his plate much faster than usual. Ginny joined in for fun, leaving him no choice but to accept everything without protest.
Luckily, he was the kind of bottomless pit who could out-eat, this much food was nothing. From time to time, he even gave the two girls a warm smile, fully delivering emotional reassurance.
He didn't forget the girls from the other houses either. Whenever he lifted his head, he quickly exchanged glances with Susan, Hannah, Daphne, Astoria and Davis, one by one, firing off flirtatious looks. It was a bit greasy, sure, but at least his attitude was clear. Seeing what the two lionesses were doing, Darcy curled her lips into a faintly disdainful smile.
'Go on. Make a fuss, once you've worn yourselves out, Lucifer will come to me on his own.'
'How could a bookish muggle-born or sheltered heiress like Greengrass, who only knew how to throw tantrums, possibly compare to me?'
A confident smile bloomed on Miss Valentine's face, instantly leaving several RavenClaw boys who had been watching her completely dazed.
The envy and jealousy they felt toward Lucifer spiraled out of control.
'Morningstar, you bastard. You're seriously unforgivable!
How... do you manage to live this well no matter where you go?
And since when did you get involved with a Beauxbatons girl like her?'
Almost every boy was thinking the same thing. Some even started wondering if the girls involved were idiots, especially Hermione. Were they really okay with him having multiple girlfriends? Did none of this strike them as strange?
Was Morningstar using some kind of magic to mess with people's minds, or were they all just willfully blind?
None of it made sense, not even a little. 'Fuck you, Morningstar.' That thought echoed through the minds of nearly every boy watching the scene.
Right now, the high table had been extended considerably, and Gellert was seated right next to Dumbledore. Not because he asked for it, but because everyone else insisted.
If Dumbledore wasn't keeping an eye on him, no one could eat in peace. The two men's lips moved occasionally, but not a single sound escaped. Meanwhile, Vinda Rosier and Minerva McGonagall were chatting... no, arguing 'fiercely.'
Those two were old rivals, old enemies. They'd crossed wands countless times during the Wizarding war, and plenty of explosive secrets slipped out between their barbs. Snape, for one, was having the time of his life watching the spectacle.
Another focal point for the students was one particular Durmstrang student. "Oh my god, it really is him! Viktor Krum!"
When his identity was confirmed, Oliver Wood from Gryffindor exclaimed excitedly, barely able to contain himself, "The youngest Seeker in Bulgarian national team history! He's playing for Bulgaria in this year's World Cup, and they might even make it to the finals to fight for the title!"
"A Seeker? On a national team?" Harry froze and looked toward the center of attention. The boy with the hooked nose and gloomy expression didn't exactly look approachable.
Wood leaned over to correct him. "Not just a Seeker. A brilliant one. Harry, if you get the chance, you really should befriend him and talk shop."
"We'll see," Harry replied noncommittally. It wasn't jealousy over Krum's fame. He just thought the guy felt... depressing. Not the kind of person who'd be easy to get along with. And seeing Draco Malfoy fawning over him didn't help.
Anyone who could get along with Malfoy couldn't be a good person.
The feast ended in this strange atmosphere. Before everyone dispersed, Dumbledore gave a brief explanation of the arrangements for their guests.
But Lucifer didn't hear a word of it. The moment they were allowed to leave, he grabbed the Greengrass sisters' hands who were grumpy looking and hurried away. He needed to put out this 'fire fast', or he wasn't surviving tomorrow.
"You're both my little cute angels."
Holding Daphne in his arms and gripping Astoria's hand, the boy spoke with absolute sincerity, "Darcy is just... overly enthusiastic. You know the French. And we haven't seen each other in ages, so it's only natural she'd get excited. Right?"
Daphne only huffed in response, refusing to answer. Astoria nodded obediently, earning an approving look from Lucifer. 'If only everyone were as sensible as this little white-haired angel, life would be so much easier.'
Seeing that Daphne was still upset, he knew he had to bring out the heavy artillery.
"Sigh..." He let out a deep noise. The sheer concentration of his will seemed to seep into the room, lending cozy little house a faint air of desolation.
"Lucifer..." Daphne stopped sulking and looked at him with concern, seeing the sadness on his face.
"Daphne, I'm an orphan."
His voice was soft, but it felt as if an invisible hand clenched both girls' hearts, squeezing until it hurt to breathe, "I grew up in an unlovable home, and banished, no family. No friends. No love... Then, I was pinned by all kinds of women too. Of course, I 'bullied' them back. But every day after work, I'd watch kids get picked up by their mothers, little hands holding big ones. I couldn't help feeling envious.... They walked together, 'families' spanning generations. And I could only sling my notebook inside my arms and walk back to the bedroom, where those very mothers come back to scold me for being too handsome, eating their meals that had long since gone cold after being wet."
"L-Lucifer..." Both girls' eyes reddened, shimmering with unshed tears. Astoria tightened her grip on his hand, while her older sister Daphne wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face against his chest, trying to give him warmth in her own way.
Lucifer blinked and continued, his tone heavy with guilt, "I know I'm flawed. In that way, I'm a lot like Voldemort. We're both children who grew up without love. That's why I can't help accepting wonderful girls like you.... I want to use your kindness and love to protect myself. Prevent me from going to the dark path, becoming my light. You understand me, don't you, Daph?"
"Understand? Huh...?" Daphne lifted her head despite herself, her beautiful eyes full of confusion, "Is... is that really correct?"
Lucifer nodded firmly.
"Of course it is!"
His Oscar-worthy performance hadn't been for nothing. At least until Daphne's brain fully caught up, he figured he could survive until then.
While she turned away to get some water, Lucifer rubbed Astoria's head gently and lowered his voice, "Do you remember what you promised me before?" The girl nodded obediently, he had already given her a heads-up last year, asking her to help keep Daphne in check when necessary.
"Good girl." Lucifer let out a long breath. Astoria really was the sensible one, he kissed her cute cheeks in return which brought a watery smile to her face, and she turned a bit red.
After coaxing Daphne for a while longer, he claimed he was tired and escorted both sisters back to their way towards Slytherin's Entrance, before returning to his own Gryffindor tower. Of course, he couldn't actually sleep. If he did, tomorrow would be a disaster.
There were still several young witches he hadn't soothed yet. Sleep was a luxury he didn't have.
Especially Valentine---he couldn't let her sleep just like that. At the very least, he had to make it clear that he'd never really cared about the Veela blood; if anything, he had always seen it as a bonus.
xxxxxx
"Friends?" Percy spluttered, he was completely red-faced, just wanted to make sure his little sister knew what she was doing, "The two of you look like---"
"Shut up!" Ginny snapped, cutting him off so sharply that Percy froze.
.......
"What?!"
Ron, Fred, and George all turned to stare at Percy, whose face had turned the same color as his hair. Well, that was an unexpected bonus.
"Don't look at 'me' like that!" Percy barked at the other Weasleys, he was seriously wondering, why there were so many, "We're talking about Ginny! Not----"
"Fred, George," Ginny interrupted, turning to her twin brothers, "You two are friends with Lucifer, so why can't I be?"
Fred grimaced, pulling a face, "Being friends is fine, sure."
George groaned, clutching his head, "But Lucifer is like a 'male' Veela, Ginny. Have you seen him? There's always at least two girls hanging around him."
"You're our only sister," Fred sighed. "We just think it's too early for you to be... dating anyone. We're looking out for you."
"I know what's best for me," Ginny said coldly, brushing past Ron and heading off to find Luna instead, she had to put her earrings back.
The Weasley brothers stood staring at each other. Finally at the end, Ron mumbled, warily, "Should we...uh, guys tell Mum?"
Fred and George exchanged a look and spoke together, "Ronnie, for once, that's actually a good idea. But she might not even take our side...."
xxxxxxx
"Turns out I am related to a Voray!"
Back in the dorm, Malfoy could not stop boasting about the evening's discoveries, his metaphorical tail practically wagging, "Do you see now? The Malfoy family's heritage is vast. We have branches across the ocean."
Rosier snorted. "You think you have more kin than I do? Go ask around, France, Spain, Italy, where have I not got cousins? And besides, her surname is Voray, not Malfoy."
"You do not understand," Draco snapped, irritated at the undercut, but still launched explaining for the equally puzzled crowd, "A thousand years ago the Malfoys moved from France to Britain, but some remained.
Later they went to Prussia, and only in the last century did they move to America...The Vorays are their descendants, except..."
Here Draco faltered, embarrassed.
Theodore Nott, resident history buff, filled in, "Except that branch already had no male heirs, so they merged into the Voray line."
"...More or less."
Barren of sons, outside of special cases like the Greengrasses, was shameful for any house. Facing several pure bloods' teasing looks, Malfoy fought to salvage dignity. "Do you know how high the Vorays fly in America now? They are not descendants of Twelve Aurors, but they are among the richest pure bloods there at middle level, with business across the world."
"What, planning to live off your Professor, see if she has a daughter to be your wife?" Daphne happened to come out looking for someone to write her homework and 'fired' without thinking.
Color crept over Draco's pale cheeks.
Rarely, he grew shy. "Not... not impossible?"
Pansy Parkinson felt the sky fall.
Daphne rolled her eyes, "Please, go look in a mirror first. When you are half as good looking as Lucifer, then start dreaming. Nott, write this week's History of Magic's essay for me."
"Right away!" Theodore agreed with canine enthusiasm. Laughter rippled through the room, when Greengrass went back inside the girls dormitory, "Malfoy, hear that? You are a long way from living off anyone."
"Exactly. Maybe Lucifer could pull it off."
"Morningstar needs to live off someone?"
"Do the Greengrasses not count?"
"Oh please. Have you ever seen a kept man juggle close ties with several girls at once?"
"Fair point." The boys sighed in envy again with mock reverence, a model for our generation.
xxxxxx
Meanwhile, Astoria didn't go back to her own dorm. She followed Daphne into her room instead. The other roommates barely reacted. The sisters were close, and Astoria was practically a regular here.
As long as those two didn't start a pillow fight tonight, everything would be fine. And given their mood, that seemed unlikely.
Still, the roommates Tracey and Bulstrode were itching to gossip. What exactly had they talked about with Morningstar? How did Daphne's temper cool down so fast? Unfortunately, curiosity lost out to fear, and they all behaved themselves and went to bed.
xxxxxx
Late at night.
Daphne was fast asleep, breathing evenly. Astoria stared at the ceiling for a long time. After some hesitation, she worked up the nerve to shake the blonde girl awake.
"Sis, wake up.... Sis, Big sister."
"Mmm... is it an earthquake?" Daphne mumbled over her pillow, completely out of it, she had a few puddles on, her lips were parted as if she was sucking on a Lolli-pop in her dream.
"No. I think that woman is plotting something. Darcy did it on purpose today. She's trying to make Lucifer dislike you."
"WHAT?!" Daphne got the hint. She jumped out of bed and casually tossed a 'Stunning Spell' at each roommate, making sure they slept extra soundly. Only then did she turn back, "Now you can talk. How exactly is Valentine trying to make Lucifer dislike me?"
"Sis, don't rush." Seeing how serious Daphne was, Astoria felt a little nervous herself. She calmed her first, then explained, "I looked into Beauxbatons. Their teaching style has always emphasized royal etiquette. Even if Darcy is impulsive---"
"Call her Valentine. Or old woman," Daphne cut in, she was irritated by the severe bounds.
Astoria was speechless, but she went along with it, "Even if Valentine is impulsive, why would her Headmistress just sit there and do nothing? That means it was planned."
It made Daphne's brain churned for a good while before she nodded stiffly. "That... makes sense? Wait!" She snapped fully awake in an instant, shooting upright so fast that she startled Astoria. Her eyes practically glowed, "What do you mean?" She didn't even bother lowering her voice, "Why would they do that?"
Astoria Greengrass hurriedly gestured for her to quiet down so she wouldn't wake roommates, then remembered girls were hexed, Oh, "They want you to get angry," She said calmly, "When you're angry, you throw a tantrum. Then Lucifer has to comfort you. Once or twice is fine, but if it happens too often, forget him. Even Mom would end up spanking you. He'll get impatient with you, and that means he'll seem closer to her instead."
This was what clarity felt like. Daphne entered a full state of enlightenment. Everything suddenly made sense.
"That's disgusting!" She was trembling with anger, "That woman is not only old, she's vicious! I'm going to tell Lucifer right now!"
She was already pulling out her WhatsApp to complain when Astoria stopped her, "Sister, we don't have proof. She can just make up an excuse and brush it off. She might even turn it around and say you're being unreasonable. And the insult about her bloodline? That just adds to her points against you..."
"Then what am I supposed to do?" Daphne felt like she was swelling up like an overinflated balloon. She was being schemed against and couldn't even strike back. She'd never suffered this kind of grievance in her life.
"Sis, listen to me," Astoria said gently.
Laying out the plan she'd already thought through, "Your conflict with Valentine can't be taken to Lucifer. This has to be settled between you three, I am talking about Granger too, So what you should do now is..."
She went on and on, methodically explaining different tactics. Daphne's eyes grew brighter by the second, nodding repeatedly, and in the end she even hugged the little white haired girl and rubbed her cheek against her.
"Astoria, you're the best sister ever! Once I drive that awful woman away, I'm taking you out for a huge meal!"
Being hugged so tightly, Astoria felt a little embarrassed. A flicker of guilt passed through her eyes. 'Sorry, sis. This isn't just for you, it's for me too, I'm really a Slytherin...'
After that Daphne woke up Granger with a bombardment of text messages, and requests for video call, the bushy-haired girl herself couldn't sleep at all, and when she got Greengrass on line, they complained non-stop till half the night was gone.
xxxxxxx
In a nearby Dorm, Castelobruxo Professors had also gathered.
"The Basilisk reports are confirmed," Alessio Villa who had green bangs, with mixtures of white here and there said with major doubts, "But the specifics need further investigation."
"Good. I was worried those Brits were just hyping up some new prodigy, doing sloppy reporting," Isabella Voray replied with a faint nod, "Alessio, you and Minerva McGonagall are both Transfiguration professors... Her reputation is impeccable---I've never heard a single bad word about her. Make sure to build a good relationship with her. No matter what happens, we must get our hands on the Basilisk's 'flesh and blood."
Smiling Alessio felt even more awkward having this nightly chat with a colleague, "I've actually communicated with her before. She really is a remarkable professor."
"Oh?" Isabella raised an eyebrow, noting some kind of gossip, she leaned over her cushion, "Funny, you never mentioned that."
He scratched his cheek, embarrassed being the topic of Voray's curiosity, "I'm kind of... a 'fan'. I've read every article she's ever published and even sent her a few letters. But I think the replies came from the editor of 'Transfiguration Today'. Just polite form responses."
She stared at him, doubting her husband's wooing skills, and whether she was too easy in her youth, 'That's what you call a communication? Steve, the hell in Merlin's name are you teaching him?'
xxxxxx
The next morning, Lucifer was dragged out of bed early.
Darcy stood gracefully at the entrance to the Fat Lady's portrait, moment she saw Lucifer, her face lit up with a radiant smile that seemed to brighten the dim surroundings.
Just then, a Gryffindor boy happened to walk out, single look at Valentine and he froze, tripped on the stone steps, and went down hard with a thud, his face burning red with embarrassment.
But neither Lucifer nor Darcy paid him any attention, he walked straight over to the girl Standing behind her, he smoothed the corner of her robes.
"You found our Common room on your very first day at Hogwarts? I have to say that's impressive."
He really meant it.
"Is that difficult?" She wrinkled her nose, this boy was underestimating her, "Ask any Gryffindor and they'd be thrilled to tell me your password."
"Fine, you win. You're charming, hands down the best girl in the world," Lucifer said, sounding helpless, "But did you really have to show up this early? We were just together a few hours ago."
"Yes," Darcy said, looping her arm through his, "You promised to give me a full tour of Hogwarts. The school's huge. We need to make good use of the time...."
"You'll be living here for a month and a half," he reminded her.
She already had her excuses prepared, "I'll be busy training later. These first couple of days are the only free time I'll have. Madame Maxime gave us a few days to adjust. Honestly, it's so much damper here than Beauxbatons, I woke up feeling like my clothes were already starting to mold...."
At that point, what could he say? Arm in arm, the two of them became an instant spectacle wherever they went.
"This is the Echo Wall. It absorbs nearby conversations and randomly plays them back around six or seven in the evening. Sometimes what you hear is from ten years ago, or even earlier... That's why students try not to talk when passing by. No one wants their words to become future blackmail."
"Mwaah!" She kissed her boyfriend soundly on the lips, then turned to the wall and said brightly, "Darcy Valentine kissed Lucifer Morningstar right here."
He smiled helplessly, leaned in, and kissed her back, leaving his own message. Only then did she walk away, satisfied.
"This is Herbology Greenhouse. The temperature stays perfect year round. See those lounge chairs? Lots come here for afternoon naps."
"Venomous Tentacula, it always wants to stung Hermione."
"This is Sir Cadogan. What he likes most is..."
"Coward! Craven fool! You dare stand before me again! This time you won't escape. Duel me!"
Lucifer shrugged in a tired manner, "See? He loves challenging people."
"Then why does he call you a coward?" Darcy asked curiously, staring at the armoured figure in the painting yelling on a horse, seemingly out of his mind.
"Last time he challenged me, I borrowed a few fire dragons from other portraits. Burned off his beard and clothes."
"You're terrible, hehe," She laughed, covering her mouth.
"This is a trick step, don't step on it or you'll fall through. A certain girl was caught here badmouthing 'Hogwarts: A History' in first year..."
"This is the Thief's Armor. It picks up clutter from the floor and stuffs it into its helmet. Neville from my house claimed the armor stole his father's homework. Then more people repeated, and that's how it got name."
"And that's Mrs. Norris. A cat who's exceptionally good at catching rule-breakers. She's rumoured to be Mr. Filch's wife who got cursed...."
"And that's Severus Snape. Not important, let's go."
Watching Lucifer and Miss Valentine stroll past him without a pause, Snape's face darkened to the color of a cauldron bottom. If it had been anyone else, he would've made sure that person no longer existed at Hogwarts.
But Lucifer, Just you wait, brat.
He shot a vicious glare at the Gryffindor's retreating back, swept his robes around, and stalked off. It was safe to say students unlucky enough to have Potions next were in for a rough time.
While he and Darcy were roaming the castle, Grindelwald gathered the six students he'd brought into his quarters..Old Dumbledore had been surprisingly generous, his room was a Master suite converted from a classroom, spacious and fully equipped.
Grindelwald sat behind his desk, leisurely sipping coffee. Vinda stood behind him, posture immaculate. The students stood with their heads bowed, not daring to look up.
All except Viktor Krum.
Despite the nerves twisting in his gut, Krum refused to show even a hint of fear toward the man before him.
"This competition is important," Setting down his coffee, he said at last, "Not just for your pride, or the. school's reputation, but also as a silent shackle between Albus Dumbledore and me." His gaze landed on Krum.
Grindelwald's voice softened.
"Viktor, do you feel confident?"
There was deep blood between Gellert Grindelwald and Viktor Krum.
....Back in the day, he had killed Krum's grandfather. At the time, boy's father was only a few months old. So if Grindelwald had acted a little sooner, Viktor Krum would never have been born.
Because of that blood feud, the Krum family had always carried a fierce hatred toward him. In the beginning, it didn't amount to much. After all, Grindelwald had been locked away in Nurmengard Castle, and they had no way to storm in and take revenge.
Too many people hated Grindelwald anyway. The Krums were nowhere near the front of that line. But once he became headmaster of Durmstrang, everything changed.
Viktor Krum was cornered. Either he dropped out, or he submitted to Grindelwald's rule. Dropping out didn't really solve anything. Bulgaria itself was also under Grindelwald's control right now. The family couldn't exactly pack up and abandon their homeland.
So, he endured, kept his head down and stayed at the school. As for Grindelwald, he didn't remember everyone he'd killed. There were simply too many. Often, he'd taken a life before even learning the person's name. However, he had a capable lieutenant, Vinda Rosier.
She knew perfectly well that among Durmstrang's students there were bound to be descendants of old enemies. So, she carried out a careful investigation. That was how Krum was exposed, along with several dozen other students.
Once unmasked, they were all taken to the Headmaster's office. When Vinda called out their identities, some students were so terrified they collapsed. Others broke down crying and begged for mercy.
Only Krum, after a brief moment of panic, drew his wand and aimed it at Grindelwald, casting the strongest spell he knew. Vinda blocked it with ease. Grindelwald didn't even bother to lift his eyelids.
And at that moment, Krum had fully expected to die.
But Grindelwald merely smiled faintly and said, "Well, that one wasn't bad," then dismissed all. Not only did nothing else happen afterward, but once Krum passed the selection process, he even arranged for several elite Aurors and professors to train them personally.
Feeling both the relief of surviving a brush with death and a stifling sense of being completely disregarded.
Now, faced with Grindelwald's question, Krum's deep voice rang with confidence, "I will definitely bring the Dueling Championship back to our great school Durmstrang."
He mentioned only Durmstrang, not Grindelwald. Seeing the Dark Lord's brow crease, Krum's heart skipped despite himself, convinced he had angered him.
"You're too arrogant, Viktor."
Grindelwald rose slowly and walked up to him. The two locked eyes, and Krum quickly lowered his head. "I'll admit it. You do have some talent. But that's all. Compared to real monsters..." He paused, then corrected himself, "No, you're not even qualified to be compared."
He wasn't talking about Lucifer. There had been countless geniuses and prodigies throughout history, but the Devil was one of a kind. Using him as a standard for Krum would have been outright bullying.
The monster Grindelwald meant was Ariana Dumbledore. Even setting aside the Obscurial, no matter how hard Krum trained, he would never come close to her level. Still, she served well enough as a way to provoke him.
"Krum, do you want revenge?" Placing a hand on his shoulder, he asked calmly.
"Ι..."
"There's no need to deny it."
Grindelwald shook his head without mercy, laying bare facts, "Isn't it obvious from how you usually act? What's the point of denying it now?"
Seeing Krum at a loss, he even smiled wider, "I'm training you so that one day, you'll be qualified to stand before me, just like your grandfather did, he was a brave man but didn't agree with my ideals, because I would drag the entire Wizarding world... into the vortex of war, and that meant he couldn't protect his family."
"Out of respect, I killed him. That wasn't a personal vendetta. It was a clash of beliefs. So we are not enemies." Grindelwald turned and returned to his seat, crossing his legs, "If you don't agree with me, then grow stronger. Defeat me. Prove that I'm wrong, just like Albus Dumbledore once did. That's why you shouldn't underestimate his students. Only by defeating them can you prove you're even qualified to think about what comes next."
"I understand. I won't underestimate anyone," Krum said solemnly, nodding. When he looked at Grindelwald again, there was a change in his gaze that he couldn't quite explain.
The blood feud with his family was real. Yet Grindelwald's breadth of vision left him shaken. If their positions were reversed, Krum knew he would never have thought of nurturing someone who hated him.
Grindelwald waved a hand, dismissing everyone. Among the group, only Krum, a sixth-year, was worth watching. As for the seventh-year deadweight, he had no expectations at all.
Vinda watched the boy's retreating back, her eyes full of disdain, mixed with a trace of pity. 'Foolish child. The reason my lord is training you is because, even if you give it everything you have, you still won't pose the slightest threat to him. And besides...'
'Heh.'
'This time, my lord is no longer alone.'
"Vinda, you can go too. No need to follow me."
She bowed slightly and left the office as well, already knew where Grindelwald was headed next.
And sure enough, not long after she left, he stepped out of his room, planning to swing by Headmaster's office and freeload a breakfast.
He had barely been outside for thirty seconds when Professor McGonagall hurried over.
"Mr. Grindelwald, you're still unfamiliar with the school, aren't you? Would you like me to show you around?"
Grindelwald gave her a teasing look. He knew this was Dumbledore's work. At this school, only a handful of heads of house were qualified to keep an eye on him.
"Perfect timing, Minerva," Neither accusing nor exposing her, he said lightly, Instead, then put her straight to work, "Take me to Albus. I'd like to see how the Headmaster's breakfast compares to mine."
McGonagall didn't refuse. If anything, she wished Dumbledore and Grindelwald would stay glued together. That way, everyone else could stop living on edge.
They soon reached the seventh floor. After speaking the password, she left, and Grindelwald entered the office alone. Dumbledore seemed to have anticipated him. Two breakfasts were already set out on the table.
"How does it feel?" He asked with a smile once Gellert had taken his seat.
"Very nice... The climate here is much better than Durmstrang's. Staring at pale snow-capped mountains every day gets old. Green hills and clear water are far more refreshing. Albus, what do you think about us switching roles? I'll be the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and you go run Durmstrang. Sounds fun, doesn't it?"
Dumbledore realized that since breaking out of Nurmengard, Grindelwald's thinking had become increasingly wild. More often than not, he couldn't keep up, and every time, ended up on the back foot.
Even casual small talk like this left him being led by the nose.
"Gellert, I'm afraid you'd turn my school into an acolyte recruitment camp. Let's not," So, he could only start eating first, which made his guest too drop the subject and dug in with clear enjoyment. The room fell briefly silent as former headmasters on the walls quietly cracked their eyes open, staring at the bizarre sight of a Hogwarts' Headmaster and a Dark Lord sharing breakfast.
If it were Voldemort instead, something like this would never happen, even if Dumbledore were dead.
Phineas stroked his beard. To be honest, he found this Dark Lord rather stylish, and his ideas weren't entirely unacceptable. If Grindelwald had risen in his own era, he might very well have joined him to rein in Muggle expansion.
A pity he was born too late.
Well, might as well enjoy the show.
After a while, Grindelwald broke the silence, sounding almost casual. "By the way, where's your phoenix? Why isn't he here?"
Dumbledore's expression darkened slightly. Why did he always have to bring up the sore spot? What was he supposed to say? That his bird was practically Lucifer's now, following that boy around all day and barely coming home?
Recently, Fawkes's closeness to him had gone far beyond anything before.
He had even asked him about it, only to be ignored, with the Phoenix muttering something about a mother's scent.
If he told the truth, Grindelwald would definitely seize the chance to laugh at him..So, rather than retreat, Dumbledore pressed forward. His gaze sharpened, "I've heard that recently you've been getting quite friendly with the 'Lithuanian and Hungarian Ministries of Magic."
"Your intelligence network is impressive," Grindelwald said casually, offering a halfhearted note of surprise before shrugging with a helpless smile. "Looks like you've planted another mole around me."
"There are no absolute secrets in this world," Dumbledore said sternly. "When it involves the movements of two countries, do you really think it can be hidden?"
And he was already putting it mildly. It wasn't just those two. Western Europe, Northern Europe, even parts of Central Asia had begun secret communications with Berlin. Not personal contacts, but official channels. Those two were simply the most obvious, and openly inclined.
"Can't be helped." Grindelwald spread his hands, looking utterly innocent, "You know me. I've always been soft-hearted. When people ask for help, I find it hard to say no."
It made Dumbledore took a deep breath. How did decades in Nurmengard make Gellert this shameless? What had he gone through? What had he figured out?
Compared to the past, he was clearly harder to deal with. Before, he cared about his image. And caring about one's image meant having restraints.
Now? Heh. Like a hedgehog, all spikes, nowhere to grab. And faintly, Dumbledore felt a strange sense of familiarity. He'd felt this same helpless frustration somewhere else before. Where was it again?
For a moment, he couldn't remember.
Faced with Dumbledore's helpless frustration, Grindelwald looked positively delighted. At last, he understood just how satisfying it was when Lucifer annoyed people on purpose. 'No wonder that Devil was always in such a good mood...'
Everyone else was left fuming, so how could his mindset not be rock-solid? Should he go to Snape next?
"Gellert. Are you trying to tear up our agreement? Don't forget, we sealed a blood pact."
"No, Albus. I've never had any intention of breaking it," Grindelwald set down his fork and tilted his head slightly. "Why are you always watching me so closely? They're the ones coming to me of their own accord... Just a bunch of pitiful souls huddling together for warmth. At a time like this, shouldn't you be asking yourself why the 'International Confederation of Wizards' is so unpopular that so many countries are dissatisfied with it?"
"There is dissatisfaction," Dumbledore replied calmly, "But there is far more ambition. Your return has stirred people who were previously content. The world could have continued running in a stable state."
"Albus, you're sticking your nose into far more than you used to." Grindelwald shot him an annoyed look, idly turning the blood pact they had only recently signed over in his fingers, "If you wanted to rule the world and suppress others, that would be one thing. But you're just a headmaster.... On what grounds, exactly, do you think you have the authority to interfere with the choices of other Ministries of Magic? Ambition? There are countless people in this world.... Why do you keep singling me out? Those ministries are simply chasing greater benefits and higher status. If that's the case, why shouldn't they side with me?"
Deepening his gaze, when faced with questioning, he found himself unable to argue back. In the end, he could only say softly, "Our lives are nearing their end. Don't leave the world in ruins."
"Relax," Grindelwald said with a light laugh, "The future is still very long. You can take your time and enjoy watching it."
Dumbledore's eyes sharpened. He heard something different beneath those words. But Grindelwald gave him no chance to dwell on it, smoothly changing the subject.
"Albus, my students don't come here often. They're not just here to compete, they want to experience your teaching methods. Don't hold back."
"What are you getting at?"
"I mean... a Half-giant really isn't very presentable. Why not invite Scamander over and have him give my students a few open lectures? If he does well, I might even consider hiring him to teach at my school."
Dumbledore fell silent. Did he really have to hold onto this grudge forever? You're over a hundred years old. Couldn't you be a little more broad minded?
xxxxxxx
In Charms class, Lucifer finally got a moment to breathe. He hadn't gone far with Darcy when Susan Bones came over to stir things up again.
The smile that had been on Valentine's face vanished instantly, when she noticed the girl's body properly, realising a life was growing inside her. Darcy made a few pointed, snide remarks, and before long, she and Bones were arguing, it was that Great Hall incident all over again.
Naturally, he took Valentine's side.
Susan noticed his bias immediately.
Furious, she stormed off, cursing this bastard of a fiance under her breath for turning on her so easily. 'Do you have any idea how many problems I've suffered... for our child these past few months? Hmph! Backstabber, I will tell Aunty, he needs to be disciplined!'
The complaints didn't stop there. As she walked away, her muttering only grew sharper, every step filled with fresh curses aimed squarely at Lucifer making his face paled.
......
Professor Flitwick was demonstrating the 'Melting Charm', turning the podium into a lump of living slime. He shaped it into all kinds of goofy expressions, sending the students into fits of laughter.
Meanwhile, Lucifer sat there frowning, lost in thought.
"No, this can't go on."
Sure, maybe it would be fun later. But right now, girls did nothing but slow down his progress in magic. If he kept getting dragged around like this by one girl after another, he wouldn't get any real work done at all. Worse, they might get used to it and start making scenes in front of him whenever they felt like it.
Daphne and Hermione had been sneaking glances at his expression the whole time. They naturally knew what was bothering Lucifer.
Slytherin' girl's big eyes darted around as she turned something over in her head. As soon as class ended, she grabbed Hermione, who had been about to follow her boyfriend, and pulled her aside, whispering her analysis in a rush.
After listening, the bushy haired girl nodded repeatedly, continuing her last night's talk, "I thought something was off yesterday too. She was going a bit overboard. She could have handled it in private... But Daphne, did you really come up with this yourself?"
Hermione stared suspiciously at her face, trying to spot any clues.
"If it wasn't me, who else would it be?" Daphne replied confidently, hands on her hips. Besides, Astoria was her little sister. Her sister's ideas were basically her own, right?
At least, in Daphne's logic, that made perfect sense.
"Hermione, that woman is way too scheming, did you see her boobies? She's clearly trying to lure Lucifer over to Beauxbatons! You don't want to end up... video chatting every day and seeing him making love from behind in your contact list, do you?"
That last line was straight from Astoria. Sure enough, Hermione's expression darkened, this old Valentine girl's looks were flawless. Aside from the starry-eyed fangroups, most girls instinctively felt wary of someone like that.
She believed Daphne without much hesitation. The two exchanged a look. Nothing more needed to be said, tacit agreement had already been reached.
By the end of the day's classes, Lucifer was still thinking about how to get himself out of this mess. Even so, he faithfully carried out his duties as a guide for Darcy. At the evening feast, the already long high table had one more seat added.
A middle-aged man sat there, dressed in a sharp suit, his beard groomed to perfection, wore a serious expression.
Percy, practically vibrating with excitement, introduced the man to the students around him.
"This is Mr. Barty Crouch, Head of the 'Department of International Magical Co-operation!' He's been named a model Ministry official by the Daily Prophet for seven years straight! My dream is to work under him after I graduate!"
He looked exactly like Wood had when he first saw Krum. Once more people had arrived, Dumbledore stood and formally introduced Crouch, along with reason for his visit.
"The Ministry of Magic also places great importance on this tournament. Director Crouch is here to ensure that the competition proceeds smoothly and fairly. He will be serving as one of the judges."
Barty Crouch rose at the right moment and nodded to Great hall. Applause broke out, Percy clapped so hard his hands were nearly sore.
Grindelwald smiled faintly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. Crouch's barbs for coming sounded perfectly reasonable, and nothing seemed out of place. Still, he had a strong intuition that man was here because of him.
He was curious to see when Crouch would come knocking, and what exactly he wanted.
That evening, Lucifer finally came up with a solution. He spoke to the girls separately. Once they weren't all together, even Daphne proved quite reasonable.
He explained that Wizarding guild affairs were piling up, and his magical research had reached a critical stage. He simply didn't have much time to spend with them. Each day, he would set aside two hours to show Darcy around the castle. When he had free time, he would do his best to make it up to the others.
Honestly, it wasn't much of an excuse, but he truly did have a lot on his plate, "Mato's Anti-Demon" Squad somehow found out he was creating babies with the 'Seven Thunder Gods,' and they ordered him to come back, impregnate the entire Defense force, who didn't want to feel left alone, and jealousy was messing with their brains, and couldn't restrain Shuuki's, protecting borders of Hell's Domain.
Starting the next day, the noise around Lucifer finally quieted down.
Of course, the drama didn't stop. Following Astoria's advice, Daphne kept testing her tactics. And every time she ran into Valentine' the Veela, the two of them traded barbs.
Hermione joined in as well, and a few casually timed remarks were often enough to leave Darcy struggling to respond, her limited vocabulary made the girl furious, she went after him to teach her verbal abuses.
Two against one, on the opponent's home turf. The odds were not in her favor. The rest of the students were having a great time, there was fresh drama every day, and Hogwarts was livelier than it had been in ages.
........
Friday rolled around again, Lucifer had just made it in time for the last lesson of the day, Potions. Snape had dragged a chair to the back of the classroom to sit and watch, like some sort of warden. The teacher for today was Castelobruxo's, Isabella Voray.
Harry's grin could not be hidden, which darkened Snape's face. Only when the ever sensitive Neville nudged him, warning of mortal peril, did Harry realize he was under the Professor's death stare and school his expression at once.
Lucifer was curious what this South American professor would bring that was different. Soon Isabella strode in with a springy gait, The Castelobruxo visitors truly 'loved' their animal prints. Beyond the patterned robes, even their boots, gloves and scarves were leopard spot.
"Hello, everyone." She greeted them with a bright voice that matched her own wild aura, "Rather than call this a Potions class, it is more accurate to call it Herbology. Herbs are the basis of potions... If you do not understand their properties, you cannot grasp the distinctive character of South American brews or Castelobruxo methods."
She smiled slightly while continuing, noticing how attentive students were below, and stared at her, "Take our most representative craft, Body Transformation. Professor Flitwick told me, he mentioned to you an auxiliary potion used for transformation at Castelobruxo."
The students nodded.
"That is true. Magic performed through such potions we call 'Druidic shapeshifting'. A master druid can even take on the form of a magical creature."
"How is that possible?" Hermione was the first one to burst out instinctively, "An Animagus can only transform into a mundane animal. That is a law of Transfiguration."
"That is a law of British wizardry," Isabella said without offense, smiling as she explained, "Because this is no longer purely Transfiguration. That is the wonder of potions. Am I right, Professor Snape?"
Snape's face did not thaw. He inclined his head. "Professor Voray, too few truly appreciate the marvel and grandeur of Potions. I do not recommend stuffing more into their limited brains than they can hold."
Every young witch and wizard pulled a face. Even Lucifer felt the attack on emotions sting from the old bat, making Isabella laugh.
"Haha, This is only a simple introduction. You don't need to force yourselves to memorize it. Relax and listen like a story. None of this will be on your exams anyway."
Soft chuckles rippled through the room, Isabella began in earnest.
"Our school lies in the depths of the Amazon, region with the greatest known diversity of magical creatures in the world, a natural cradle for herbs and plants. On that foundation, Castelobruxo has developed potions and magic perfectly suited to living with the jungle..."
"The core of Druidic shapeshifting is, in fact, a single herb." A sheet of serpent-skin parchment, enlarged dozens of times, unfurled across the blackboard.
"Emerald Vine, called the King of the Jungle. Its leaves gleam like jade, it climbs trees as it grows, and only appears in the dampest places. Powerful magical creatures often guard the areas where it thrives. This herb not only... reduces inflammation and fights infection, it can also temporarily heighten a wizard's magical activity and adaptability. It is primer for Druidic shapeshifting..."
Isabella spoke with easy confidence. Just as she had promised at the start, the entire lesson was essentially an introduction to herbs. The students listened lightly, and before they knew it, the bell rang.
"As a professor, I still have to assign a little homework." She smiled. A chorus of groans swept the room, no one had expected an assignment.
"Choose any one of the plants I introduced today and write a paper about it. More than eight inches in length." Then she smoothly added, "Mr. Morningstar, may I borrow a bit of your precious free time?"
Lucifer did not know what she wanted, but he nodded and handed his books to Hermione to take back for him. Snape shot a look and made a subtle hand sign, he understood at once.
The Basilisk.
When the last student had filed out, Isabella smiled politely, "Mr. Morningstar, your feat of slaying a Basilisk alone caused quite a stir even at Castelobruxo."
"A stir or a joke?" Lucifer chuckled, unconcerned. "Mr. Collins figured I was just courting attention? And, he wanted to pick a fight with me."
"To be honest, at first I did not believe it either," Isabella was frank, while internally she was screaming, and decided right there to give Mark Collins heavy detention for a month, "In our records, every time a Basilisk appears, terrible sacrifices are required to destroy it... The hide is as good as a permanent Shield Charm, and the deadliest threat is the eyes. Your achievement sounded too implausible..."
"Once I arrived at Hogwarts, however, every professor and student I spoke to had seen it with their own eyes. I will not question needlessly. Wizards are, after all, the people of miracles."
Lucifer almost wanted to call Hannah in to take notes on what charm looked like. It felt good to be praised, but he kept his head, "Professor Voray, you did not bring up the Basilisk just to flatter me, did you?"
"You are perceptive." Isabella grinned with pressed lips. "To be blunt, I, or rather Castelobruxo, need Basilisk materials."
"For what purpose?"
"To brew a Druidic elixir for transforming into a Basilisk." She was open, and revealed her thoughts without hesitation, "Castelobruxo has found a ruin filled with dangerous serpents, many traps and mechanisms tied to snakes. If we had a Basilisk druid, exploration would go far more smoothly."
"What is inside?"
She gave an apologetic look. "I am sorry. Work on the ruin is currently stalled, I do not know the details."
"Fair." Lucifer nodded, would treat what she volunteered as true and nothing more, "What can you offer in return? Galleons, potions, herbs?"
"Whatever we can do, we will meet your terms," Isabella said quickly, she had noticed the boy wasn't holding a grudge, and deal could be made.
"What if I want the Druidic shapeshifting method and supporting potion recipes?"
She froze for a moment, then nodded without hesitation, "No problem." Her ready agreement made Lucifer suspect she meant to palm him off with fakes.
Seeing his doubt, Isabella explained with a promising tone, "We graduate many students every year. Plenty learn Druidic shapeshifting. The rare part is not the instructions and spells, but the materials."
"Then I want ten full sets as well," Lucifer said at once.
Miss Voray still agreed, she was clearly after Basilisk, rest had little to do with her. They arranged to trade after lunch tomorrow at the Astronomy Tower.
Lucifer would provide three hundred pounds of Basilisk flesh and blood in exchange for ten material sets and the corresponding knowledge.
Leaving the Potions office, he was still mulling over the ruin Isabella had mentioned. She had not told the whole truth. Even if the Druidic methods and recipes were not rare, they were still Castelobruxo's specialty. To hand over so lightly meant that ruin mattered a great deal to her school.
Should he go take a look?
The thought flickered and died, Lucifer had far too little information. The Amazon rainforest was thirty times the size of Britain. Calling it a needle in the sea would not be wrong.
Why not wait for Castelobruxo to retrieve something first, then offer a fair price for it, or take a more direct approach after there was something tangible to target? That would be easier.
xxxxxxx
When the night approached, Lucifer received a message. It was the first one he'd gotten since adding this person to his contacts.
『Borgin』: Mr. Morningstar, I have some information you might be interested in.
Raising his eyebrows, he tapped the message. His reply appeared instantly.
『Lucifer』: Old Borgin, I hate it when people speak in riddles. Do I need to come over myself and use my wand to pull the answer out of your mouth?
On the other end, Borgin seemed thoroughly intimidated. It took a while before he replied honestly.
『Borgin』: Ahem, Mr. Morningstar. The truth is, many people in Knockturn Alley have reached the limit of their tolerance toward the Arkham Asylum Guild.
『Borgin』: They're planning to take action tonight.
Oh? Lucifer wasn't alarmed at all. Instead, a smile spread across his face. After bottling things up for nearly a week, he finally had a chance to let it all out.
Borgin was a clever man, but goodness had never been one of his virtues. Normally, he wouldn't have been so enthusiastic about delivering intelligence to Lucifer. But the old man had his reasons.
Back then, just after the Arkham Asylum Guild was founded, he had paid him a personal visit and shared a long, warm, exceedingly friendly conversation with old Borgin.
And from that moment on, Borgin became remarkably well-behaved.
In his own mind, he was now Morningstar's ally. In reality, he was just an informant. A spy.
"Finally..." He already expected this to happen. After all, whenever a new power sits down at the table, it's bound to cut into old players' slice of the cake. Even if the newcomer can make the cake bigger and the table wider, division still follows proportions, "No one gives up their share willingly."
"Win-win" is a nice idea, but it's rare. Most people want it all, reasonable people were far too few.
The appearance of the Arkham Asylum had hit Knockturn Alley right at its core. From shop-owning suppliers to the low-level thugs who made a living robbing people in dark corners, business had been collapsing across the board. Lucifer had expected trouble and made preparations, but in the end, he still decided to go himself. If nothing else, he could treat it as a way to relax.
『Lucifer』: Don't be vague. Tell me everything you know.
『Borgin』: Mr. Morningstar, I don't know much. Roughly speaking, the people involved are.....
『Borgin』: As for when they'll make their move, it should be early tomorrow night, just past midnight. They don't want to drag it out.
Borgin rattled off a list of names, Lucifer hadn't heard of a single one and had no idea what kind of bottom feeding trash they were.
So Borgin patiently explained who they were and what they did. Potion dealers. Smugglers of banned materials. Loan sharks. A few werewolves.
The ones putting in the most effort, and the ones who hated Lucifer the most, were two small families dealing in sensitive potions and illegal ingredients, he had dug up a lot of rare goodies from Newt's little world and stocked them in the Guild.
Their businesses had been dying day by day. Of course they hated him.
'Tomorrow night, huh, I will have to schedule Voray early, Lucifer looked disappointed. He'd been hoping to blow off some steam tonight.
『Lucifer』: Old Borgin, if I don't see anyone tomorrow, I'll go tear your shop down myself.
In Knockturn Alley, Borgin wiped the cold sweat off his face and closed the codex. Wait... From his tone, it almost sounded like he was hoping someone would attack his property.
Remembering the enthusiastic, almost blazing methods Lucifer had used during their last "friendly chat," Mr. Borgin's lingering resentment at being treated so casually vanished without a trace, "Not worth provoking, absolutely not!"
xxxxxx
Saturday Morning
After breakfast, students all headed toward the Quidditch pitch to assemble. Don't get the wrong idea. Today wasn't match day, season was already over, the Dueling Competition was being held there instead.
Lucifer walked alongside Hermione and Daphne, with a sea of heads behind them.
"Ginny's going to win today, right?" It was Daphne first who looked at him, clearly hoping for reassurance.
Ginny Weasley really did have that social butterfly vibe. She'd always been close with Astoria, which naturally brought her closer to Daphne as well. As for Hermione, that went without saying, they were in the same house.
He nodded without hesitation, "If Ginny doesn't win today, that won't be her fault. It'll mean the competition was rigged."
"That's good, I will feel less nervous about my battles then..."
Lucifer hadn't bothered lowering his voice. A few students from other schools overheard and immediately looked offended, clearly thinking Lucifer's tone was far too arrogant.
Everyone here was the best of the best in their year. No one was willing to admit they were inferior to someone else. Still, they were outnumbered and far from home, so no one stepped forward to openly challenge him.
"Line up properly! Go up in order! Don't push, and don't stand so close together! Malfoy, Potter! You two, stop sticking to each other. You'll trip and fall!"
Professor Flitwick stood on a tall chair, directing traffic like a tiny general. Malfoy and Harry, both called out by name, flushed red, shot each other a vicious glare, and quickly moved apart.
Luckily, the Quidditch stands had been modified for the event. This competition wasn't taking place in air, and the field itself was far too wide.
Sitting too high up gave you a good overall view, but it was impossible to see details clearly. So several rows of closer seating had been temporarily conjured beneath the main stands using Transfiguration.
The matches were scheduled to start at nine. By eight thirty, the entire school was already present. The stands buzzed with noise, packed shoulder to shoulder. Lucifer couldn't help thinking that if someone came out selling snacks and sweets right now, they'd make a killing.
Sadly, Hogwarts students lacked that kind of business sense. Even the twins hadn't thought of it.
At this moment, the two of them were busy helping Ginny adjust her cheering banner, trying to make it even more "eye-catching" so it might distract her opponents.
Right at nine o'clock, cheers exploded across the stadium. Led by Professor McGonagall, five competitors walked out of the players' lounge in a neat line. Thunderous applause followed them, carrying everyone's encouragement.
The rules were simple. There were five competitors, and each one would duel every other participant once. A win earned one point, a loss earned zero. Draws were not allowed.
If there was a tie at the end, extra matches would be held until one person emerged with the highest score and claimed overall victory.
Injuries weren't a concern, Snape had long since prepared for this, ready to quickly eliminate any lingering effects from spells.
And there were three judges: Dumbledore, Crouch, and Grindelwald.
Originally, the rules forbade the use of Dark Magic. But under Grindelwald's insistence, Dumbledore ultimately gave in and allowed students to use certain Dark spells, as long as their consequences weren't severe.
His concession wasn't just because Grindelwald refused to back down, but the Headmaster also wanted to use this chance to make Hogwarts students aware of dangers of Dark Magic and strengthen their defenses against it.
As for whether someone might go astray and become obsessed with Dark Magic because of this?
That didn't really matter.
They weren't Lucifer or Voldemort. Mediocre people could learn all the Dark Magic they wanted and still wouldn't make waves. A person's limits were defined by who they were, not by spells.
Finally, once the rules and matchups were announced, students from Castelobruxo and Durmstrang stepped into center of the field. At Dumbledore's signal, two red 'flashes' collided almost instantly.
Second-year matches usually weren't much to watch, most people were here just for the atmosphere. But once it started, it changed their minds. The spells weren't especially complex, but the competitors cast them smoothly and confidently.
....They'd clearly received proper Dueling training, footwork was disciplined, their skill levels close. The fight turned out to be surprisingly engaging. After three intense minutes, the Durmstrang student claimed victory. Krum stood up first to applaud his junior, and many Hogwarts students followed suit.
Next up was Ginny.
She had been coiled like a spring and shot onto the stage the instant McGonagall finished, so fast that the professor blinked at her for two seconds before saying, "Weasley, whom do you challenge?"
"What is the name of that second year girl?" Ginny looked at Madam Maxime, the seven Beauxbatons students stood behind her.
She was pointing to a tan skinned girl, with Snape grade resting face. Challenging her without even bothering to learn her name was naked contempt. Not waiting for Maxime's nod, she marched past her onto the platform and tossed, "Remember me. Vanessa Garcia. What is your name, redhead?"
She gave Ginny a cold provoking look
"You do not need to know, pock mark," Ginny shot back and paced to her starting mark. "I am in a hurry. Make it quick."
The reek of gunpowder was so strong even a blocked nose could smell it. No one dared blink, afraid of missing something good. McGonagall frowned inwardly. In her mind Ginny was a talented, lively girl, but unlike the twins she did not start trouble and was a favorite student. Why so prickly today? She said nothing, lowered her wand, and signaled them to begin.
They bowed. Rising from the bow, Vanessa barked a string of hexes, fast enough to launch two spells in a breath. For a second year, that was excellent. If not the strongest of Beauxbatons's grade level, she was among the best.
Ginny's answer shocked them more. A light flick of her wand knocked the hexes aside, and while parrying she countered. Bats burst from Vanessa's nostrils and flurried over her face, clawing and scratching.
The girl burst into tears, shrieked, and flung away her wand. McGonagall moved at once. The bats unraveled into black smoke, but even with her speed, Vanessa's face was crisscrossed with cuts. Blood was smeared everywhere, and it looked dreadful.
"Poppy!"
Madam Pomfrey sprinted onto the platform, yanked Vanessa away with brisk efficiency, grumbling about the dangers of Dueling as she worked.
The second year kept clutching at her face, the Matron finally snapped, and she warned lightly, "Touch that one more time and the scars will be permanent. Don't blame me then."
The girl went still at once.
"Who is next?! I want an opponent from Beauxbatons, Let's go!" Ginny shouted impatiently the moment Vanessa was taken offstage.
Lucifer watched with a grin, feeling proud; he wanted to shout, 'I'm the one who trained this Dark witch.'
Though now that he thought about it wasn't this Dueling Club supposed to be his stage for dramatic brilliance? How had Granger, Bones, and Ginny been stealing all the spotlight?
This was not the "proper protagonist" experience at all.
Oddly enough, next match was less entertaining than the previous one. It was a complete blowout. The Beauxbatons student was crushed with ease. The little girl ran back behind Madame Maxime in tears, sobbing even harder once she got there. Of the six Beauxbatons competitors, only one was male, they were seriously outnumbered.
Then, rest of the matches with Durmstrang and Castelobruxo held no real suspense. With Ginny's natural talent, Lucifer's personal training, and strengthening potions, she was on an entirely different tier compared to her peers.
Across 'four' battles, no one managed to break through her Shield Charm. Her "Bat-Bogey Hex" was unstoppable, and her clever use of freezing spells combined with the terrain left her opponents miserable and helpless.
Professor McGonagall was beaming, applauding Ginny nonstop. 'How many years has it been? Gryffindor had finally shown its face properly.'
Just after 11 AM, all the matches were over. Hogwarts took first place, Durmstrang second, Castelobruxo third, Beauxbatons Last. Well... their main girl had completely collapsed mentally after the first match and went on to lose all three remaining bouts, 'finishing' dead last.
Madame Maxime wanted to scold her, but seeing the exhausted, sobbing little girl, she swallowed her anger for now. She'd wait until the child recovered a bit before letting her have it.
After all, losing every single match was humiliating. Her pride, and Beauxbatons' pride, had been dragged through the mud, their grade had been given two fighters out of the draw, and still it was dirt!
[Like Hogwarts 3rd year has two]
If it had been a clear gap in strength, she could have accepted it as a teaching issue. But aside from Ginny, other students were all roughly on the same level. Wins and losses came down to performance on the day and a bit of luck. That kind of defeat only made Maxime angrier.
......
Meanwhile, Lucifer was trying to reason with Ginny. He'd promised her beforehand that if she won today, he'd spend the evening with her. But plans never survive contact with reality. He had somewhere urgent to be, and people to kill. The time would have to change.
Ginny flat-out refused. She sulked, stubbornly as could be, until finally she snapped and declared, "Even if you're going to kill someone tonight, I'll watch you do it, and then you're coming back to be with me!"
Lucifer froze for a moment. Then his smile turned strange, playful, and dangerous all at once, "And what if I really am going to kill someone?"
This time, Ginny was the one left speechless. But seeing that he wasn't joking, she understood he truly was about to do something serious tonight.
She clenched her teeth and said with a dedicated nod, "Fine, whatever you're doing, wherever you're going, I'm going with you."
Looking at the girl in surprise. And Ginny met his gaze stubbornly, her eyes faintly red. He could feel her resolve clearly, without a hint of wavering. A second-year witch, saying something like "even if it's murder, I'll go with you."
Ginny, you really know how to hit where it hurts, he silently gave her full marks in his head.
Lucifer reached out and ruffled her hair. She understood what that meant and broke into a bright satisfied smile, "So, now you can tell me what you're actually going to do, right?"
He shrugged. "Didn't I already say it? I'm going to kill someone."
Since Ginny had already gone all in, he didn't bother hiding anything, explained the entire conflict between Arkham Asylum and Knockturn Alley.
Hearing it all, instead of being scared, the girl grew even more excited. She pumped her small fist in the air, "How dare they try to steal our stuff! Lucifer, when are we leaving?"
"....."
"After dinner," he replied calmly, "Relax, the other shops in Diagon Alley aren't closed yet, and those people won't dare make a move in broad daylight."
xxxxxxx
Late at night, Diagon Alley
The once bustling wizarding street gradually fell silent. Most shops had closed around eight or nine. Only Mr. Ollivanders still glowed with a faint candlelight, the old craftsman inside continuing his research into wand materials.
"Sigh... let's hope it all holds together."
Close to midnight, he let out a quiet sigh. With a gentle flick of his wand, all the lights went out, leaving only a small glow at the tip to guide him back to the backyard. As a local power who had been rooted here for over a thousand years, Ollivander might not be much when facing a madman like Voldemort or Grindelwald.
But here, in Diagon Alley, he was unquestionably a heavyweight. Through his own channels, he'd already heard about the small movements in Knockturn Alley.
He'd also sent Lucifer a letter. Yeah, a letter. Aside from innovation in wand materials, the old man was stubborn to a fault. He rejected nearly every new invention and still insisted on communicating via Owl post.
That said, he genuinely loved the Arkham Asylum Guild's task system. As long as he paid in Galleons, rare materials could be sourced from all over the world. No more yearly expeditions. The Guild oversaw the entire process, ensuring 'fairness' from start to finish.
As for who retrieved the materials? He didn't care if they were werewolves or vampires. As long as the goods arrived, that was enough.
Partly to build goodwill, partly for his own convenience, Ollivander had warned Lucifer who had received the message earlier that day. It wasn't particularly useful, but it clearly showed where old craftsman stood.
The streets were deadly silent. On the other side of Diagon Alley, he had already brought Ginny to Arkham Asylum.
"Wow~"
It was Ginny's first time meeting Banfield' Maids' She circled the two women curiously, trying to figure out whether they were really dolls, in response Marie, who had custom designed herself to have pink hair, pinched the young girl's cheeks!
She yelped loudly, and stepped back, confirmed that these "puppets" weren't much different from real people, complete with flesh and blood, alarm bells went off in her head. 'Oh no. If Lucifer's skills were this advanced, didn't that mean he could basically do whatever he wanted? Then what did he even need women for? He could create the best girl just what he liked....!
'Ahhh--- a bunch of foolish girls, still fighting over him back at school. The biggest threat was Lucifer himself!'
At that moment, Lucifer was busy setting things up. If he'd used 'Legilimency' and seen what Ginny was thinking, he would've given her two solid smacks on the butt.
He wasn't the kind of person who went after dolls, wasn't nearly as twisted as she imagined.
"Hey, stay here and watch," Lucifer said, leading Ginny to a second-floor room by the window and settling her in, "Standing next to me will get too bloody."
xxxxxx
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