Ginny nodded obediently. She knew that insisting on following him would only cause trouble. Still, made one small request. "...Can you leave one person for me?"
Lucifer fell silent.
"Ginny, think carefully..."
"...Are you sure?"
She nodded firmly. "Everything has a first time. You're going to have more enemies in the future, aren't you? Didn't you say you wanted to train me into your number two... enforcer? If I can't even kill bad people, how am I supposed to help you later?"
'Huh? Training you to be what? I was going to make you help Susan. Then I changed my mind and decided on a Dark witch maid.'
"Ahem... I'll leave you someone alive, then," Lucifer said after a moment, nodding. In the end, seeing some blood would be good for her. Killing as a wizard did leave marks on the soul, especially at Ginny's age. It could easily affect her mindset. But he already had a method to purify such traces, could simply cleanse it afterward.
Half an hour later, shadows began to emerge from Knockturn Alley and move toward Diagon Alley. Counting them, there were twenty-six in total.
The man at the front lowered his voice, "Our task is simple. Destroy everything inside the Arkham Asylum Guild that can be destroyed. Take anything valuable, move fast. Especially those puppets. Blow them up until there's nothing left. Got it?"
"Bask, you're too damn long-winded," A burly man replied gruffly. "Like we don't already know."
Bask snorted coldly and didn't bother arguing..These two were the leaders of the operation, he owned a potion shop in Knockturn Alley. Even Hagrid's pest control potion came from his place.
The man mocking him was named Ragnar, a professional smuggler. And a werewolf wizard. Their businesses had taken the hardest hit, so naturally, they were the first to lose patience. Especially Ragnar, he'd carved out his position in Knockturn Alley and, thanks to his Werewolf status, gathered a pack under him.
He squeezed them dry without mercy. But ever since the "Mercenary Guild" appeared, his ten werewolf subordinates had dwindled to just two. Two others hadn't run because they couldn't, he'd broken their legs and thrown them into cages.
Even the muscle he'd hired for tonight had been paid for with cash from Knockturn Alley. At this point, Ragnar hated the Arkham Asylum Guild and that Morningstar brat with a passion. He was grinding his teeth, wishing he could bite the boy right now and turn him into a werewolf.
The group moved forward silently. Every time they passed a shop, someone cast a Silencing Charm. They actually looked pretty professional.
Finally, they reached the entrance of the Arkham Asylum building. A vicious glint flashed through Bask's eyes, he raised his wand at the door and whispered, "Alohomora"
The lock clicked open.
Delight flickered across their faces.
Without even checking their surroundings, surged inside. They'd already studied the Guild's routine. Off work at seven, Eustace Burke never stayed overnight. But the moment the last person rushed in, glowing runes flared across the floor.
A massive 'force' erupted outward, catching them completely off guard and blasting everyone back.
As the group struggled to their feet in a mess, slow clapping echoed through the hall, "So many guests dropping by in the middle of the night," A calm voice said with mockery, "And not one of you thought to let the host know?"
"Lucifer Morningstar?!"
Bask's face went pale as he stared in disbelief at the boy sitting casually on a chair by the entrance, smiling at them. Why was he here?
"What's with that look?" He said lightly, "You didn't really think your plan was a secret, did you? I've got plenty of people who like to keep me informed."
Lifting a hand. A fierce gust of wind swept through the hall, ripping away hoods and black cloaks. One by one, the attackers were revealed.
"Let's see," Lucifer said, his eyes scanning them, "Dark wizards, minor families, werewolves, vampires... huh? Goblins too?" His brows lifted slightly as he spotted two ugly figures desperately trying to hide in the back. None of his informants, not Borgin, not Ollivander, not anyone else, had mentioned goblins being involved.
"Well, that's interesting. Looks like I'll need to have a proper chat with Gringotts..." The reason was obvious enough. He'd been withdrawing large amounts of Galleons lately. The greedy little creatures probably didn't like that.
Honestly, these goblins were almost thoughtful. He'd been wondering how to justify picking a fight with them, and here they were, delivering themselves right to his doorstep.
Such kind souls.
"Mr. Morningstar, this was reckless of us," Bask said, taking a deep breath and backing down smoothly, "Someone misled us, said the Guild was hiding vast amounts of gold and rare materials. I was blinded by greed and agreed to this plan....I'm willing to offer half my assets as compensation. I hope you'll forgive us."
They had numbers, sure. But look at the trash they were made of, Lucifer had already smashed through full-blood pureblood families and left them ruined. Compared to that, what chance did these people have?
There wasn't even the slightest possibility of winning. The others started to waver, but the two goblins at the very back turned and ran.
'Whoosh---'
A sharp tearing sound cut through the air. Two ice spears condensed out of nothing and pierced straight through the goblins' throats. They died instantly, without even time to scream. The spears curved in midair, dragging the bodies back and pinning to the massive stone pillars at the Guild's entrance.
"Since you're already here," Lucifer said calmly as he rose to his feet, "no need to rush off." His fingers moved slightly. Countless ice spears and lances of flame formed in the air, dense as a forest, all pointed at the trapped attackers.
Bask was furious and terrified.
"Morningstar, are you really going this far? We're not without backing! If you kill us, the entire British Wizarding world will reject you by tomorrow! This isn't North America!"
"That's not something you need to worry about," Lucifer replied, snapping his fingers. The spears of ice and fire shot forward. Overwhelming magic and sheer will warped the surrounding space itself, Apparition was made impossible.
Protective spells shattered one after another. And the number of spears didn't decrease, it only grew.
When the 'first' unlucky soul was pierced, despair flooded the rest. They knew their fate was sealed. Resistance grew frantic and savage, even if they were going to die, they wanted to drag Lucifer down with them.
On the second-floor balcony, Ginny stood with her head lowered. Her small body trembling, but her gaze was steady, unblinking, fixed on the slaughterhouse below as blood blossomed through the air.
It didn't last long.
More than twenty attackers looked intimidating at first glance, but in reality... they were mostly dead weight. Only a few members of Bask's family and some hired muscle were halfway competent. And even that was only compared to ordinary wizards, they were a little meaner, a little more ruthless, and knew a couple of dark spells.
That was all.
From start to finish, Lucifer used just one spell, he never moved an inch, standing where he was and calmly admiring the hellscape he'd created. Some people were engulfed in flames, their bodies charred black. Others were frozen into ice sculptures, their pale faces tinted an eerie bluish purple by the firelight.
He even had time to think about the 'flaws' in his magic.
"Instead of reinforcing each other, they cancel out. The runes are clashing head on. Is there really no way to fuse them?"
Lost in thought, he vaguely sensed solving this problem would be the key to a massive leap in his understanding of Sentient Magic. 'Force the opposites to merge first, then let everything snap... back to normal and unleash their destructive potential.'
By the time he reached that conclusion, fight was already nearing its end, Lucifer had to cut his thoughts short. He raised his right hand, and every spear halted in midair, suspended directly in front of Bask and Ragnar. Just a centimeter and they would have pierced more than a dozen vital points.
These two had been deliberately left alive, for Ginny's trial.
"Spare me... Morningstar, please, spare me." Bask's body was covered in severe burns over more than half his skin. He barely looked human anymore.
"Don't kid yourself, look at your friend here. This werewolf gentleman is much smarter, he's already accepted his fate..."
Thanks to his physique, Ragnar was in far better shape than Bask. His blood-red eyes locked onto Lucifer as he hissed, "Morningstar, I lost this time. But Fenrir won't let you go. He won't let your guild go either, just wait for the revenge of the werewolves!"
"Oh wow, I'm terrified," Lucifer replied with an exaggerated look of fear, "Fenrir Greyback? That useless trash who even the Ministry can chase around like a stray dog? How about this... I'll let you go back and you bring him here yourself?"
Fenrir Greyback was the most vicious werewolf leader in Britain. Unlike most werewolves, he chose to become one and actively spread the curse. His name had long since entered bedtime horror stories. Parents used him to scare disobedient children. If you don't behave, Fenrir will come on the 'full' moon and bite you.
Remus Lupin had been bitten by Fenrir as an act of revenge. After all, his father, Lyall Lupin, was a former Auror who had openly condemned werewolves, earning Fenrir's hatred.
Lupin paid the price for his father's words.
"Hahaha!" Ragnar looked delighted.
Anyone with a brain could tell Lucifer was mocking him, yet the Werewolf took it seriously, hope flaring in his eyes, "Morningstar! You promise-urk!"
----'Pfff!'
A spear of ice punched straight through Ragnar's throat. He stared at Lucifer in disbelief, unable to understand why the attack had come so suddenly.
"Talking to idiots like you is such a waste of time," he said, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. 'Whatever, leaving one for Ginny should be more than enough for her to work with.'
With a flick of his fingers, the corpses on the ground were lifted and skewered by ice spears, neatly lined up and pinned to the stone pillars. The temperature was already low, and with the added ice magic, bodies would keep for ten days or even half a month without any trouble.
Their lives would serve as a warning, and as a test. Dragging the barely alive Bask behind him, Lucifer entered the guild hall. Ginny hurried over and threw herself into his arms, "Lucifer, you were amazing!"
"This?" He laughed, ruffling her hair, and looked down at her glowing eyes, "Just a bunch of nobodies. Study hard. By fifth year, I guarantee you'll be able to do what I did today."
"Mm." Ginny looked at Bask, who was still clinging to life, "Leave him to me, I will do my worse..."
"Do whatever you want."
She stared at Bask for a long moment before finally deciding on her first spell.
xxxxxxx
At the same time, at Hogwart, Gellert Grindelwald was still awake.
'Knock, knock, knock.'
The Door was rapped in a steady rhythm. A smile curved Grindelwald's lips as he reached out and pulled it open.
Barty Crouch stepped inside, dressed neatly in a suit. Surprise flickered across his face, he clearly hadn't expected Grindelwald to open the door so quickly. He recovered almost at once and greeted him politely.
"Mr. Grindelwald, I apologize for disturbing you so late."
"That's hardly a disturbance," Grindelwald said, looking him over with amused interest, "I was waiting for you, Mr. Crouch. Your nerve really exceeds my expectations. Don't you know this is Dumbledore's territory? His eyes and ears are everywhere."
Crouch shook his head, faced with the implied threat, he showed no sign of panic, "That's true. Hogwarts is under Dumbledore's control, but he holds a certain respect for me. He wouldn't pay attention to my movements."
"And your residence," he continued calmly, "because of the wariness surrounding the Dark Lord, I imagine this is actually the least monitored place of all. Isn't that right?"
"Hahaha-" Grindelwald suddenly laughed, "That's where you're wrong. The very day you arrived, I stepped outside for less than a minute before Minerva stopped me."
At that, a flicker of panic finally appeared on Crouch's face. This was bad. Had Albus Dumbledore really noticed him?
Then Grindelwald changed his tone, "After that, though, I cast 'Confundus Charms' over the entire area. Even if they wanted to monitor it, they no longer have the ability to do so, unless they're willing to openly turn against me."
Crouch fell silent.
What kind of twisted sense of humor did this Dark Lord have? Was it really that fun to mess with people?
The rhythm of the conversation was completely in Grindelwald's hands now. He stopped toying with Crouch's nerves, gestured for him to sit, and went straight to the point.
"The Crouch family is one of Britain's 'Sacred Twenty-Eight', generations of high-ranking officials. I'm genuinely curious why you would choose me."
Lucifer had already told him about the Crouch family's current situation, and Grindelwald had a good idea why he was here. Still, needed to hear it from the man himself. Otherwise, it would be nothing more than a scheme.
"A glorious history can't save a miserable present," Crouch said softly. He let out a long sigh. The carefully maintained air of an elite official crumbled away. What remained was a frail old man nearing seventy, speaking with painful honesty.
"I have a son. Barty Crouch Jr. I once placed all my hopes on him. I wanted him to carry on my legacy, to achieve the unprecedented feat of father and son both serving as Ministers."
"During his school years, he was outstanding. Twelve O.W.L.s, all with top marks. When he graduated, he was the best in every subject. And yet...He was seduced by Voldemort."
His face grew even more haggard, heavy with guilt, "I was consumed by work. I didn't know how to be a father, every time I was home, we barely spoke before we started arguing. He filled the absence of a father with Voldemort. After becoming a Death Eater, he committed countless crimes. And at the 'final' trial, it was me... I personally sent him to Azkaban."
"Tris... my wife fell gravely ill because of it. Before she died, she begged me to save our child, to keep Barty from being tortured to death in Azkaban. I agreed... I sent her there in his place and secretly swapped them. Not long after, she died there."
By now, Crouch was in tears, sobbing so hard he could barely catch his breath, never said these things to anyone. They were like a mountain crushing his chest. Now that he had finally spoken them aloud, much of that weight lifted, and losing control of his emotions was inevitable.
Grindelwald neither urged him on nor tried to comfort him. He simply waited in silence.
After some time, Crouch finally managed to steady himself again.
"My apologies, Sir..."
"It's fine," Grindelwald said with a faint smile. "This is only human. Crouch, I welcome wizards with strong emotions into my ranks. Only those who understand love have the courage to sacrifice for an ideal."
Crouch's gaze softened noticeably. This was what true vision looked like. Compared to this, Voldemort was nothing but trash, his confidence in his choice grew stronger.
"Barty is currently imprisoned at home, I regularly use the Imperius Curse to control him, and a house-elf takes care of his daily needs.."
He looked at the Dark Lord with sincerity.
"Mr. Grindelwald, rather than letting his faith cling to a monster like Voldemort, who rules through slaughter and fear, I would rather have Barty follow you. Whether it's strength or vision, you far surpass him.... I don't ask for greatness. I only want my son to be more... normal. To live properly, as a normal person."
"For that, I'm willing to pay any price. I can serve as your informant within the 'British Ministry of Magic,' even at Dumbledore's side."
Grindelwald's smile deepened, as he thought of evil things, "Poaching Voldemort's followers, hm? An interesting idea. But I can't promise success," he added to make sure, not giving any false hopes, "Your son has followed him for many years. That kind of worship runs deep."
"This is my only choice," Crouch said, taking a deep breath, "No matter what, I can't let him drift through life like a walking corpse. I can control him with the 'Imperius Curse' now, but what happens after I die? If even you can't change him, then please... just kill him."
Looking at Crouch with clear admiration, Grindelwald went over the words, no wonder the Devil considered him one of only two truly capable people in the British Ministry. That level of resolve alone put him leagues above that useless Minister.
"Very well. Once the exchange tournament ends, I'll take your son with me."
At those words, the weight pressing on Crouch's heart finally eased. He nodded heavily. From this moment on, he too was an Acolyte.
After adding Grindelwald as a contact, Crouch left the room thoroughly satisfied.
Gellert, on the other hand, fell into thought. He was considering how to arrange Crouch, or more accurately, how to make use of him.
Using him as a spy felt unnecessary. The 'British Ministry of Magic' was a nest of parasites anyway. Even without surveillance, Grindelwald knew exactly what people like Fudge and Scrimgeour were thinking and what they busied themselves with every day.
Besides, Lucifer had just finished stretching his legs. The next step was probably dealing with the Ministries directly. When that happened, it was better to let the boy handle it himself.
As for Dumbledore.
That old man was practically living right under Lucifer's nose. There was no real value in monitoring him, he was pitiful enough already.
Grindelwald didn't want Dumbledore, when the cards were finally on the table, to discover that everyone around him was an informant, plus one final boss lurking in the shadows.
The old man might get so angry that he dropped dead on the spot.
"Forget it. I'll throw this headache to that kid." Grindelwald laughed quietly. He realized he was getting lazier by the day. In the past, he would never have trusted others with decisions like this. Everything had to go through him.
But now? Watching Lucifer take a completely hands-off attitude toward anything not directly tied to power, he felt it might be worth learning from him. No need to let trivial matters drain his attention.
With a flicker of thought, Grindelwald contacted him through the pocket space, "Are you done over there?"
In Diagon Alley, Lucifer received the message, he opened the shared vision and replied uncertainly, "I guess... more or less?"
Grindelwald fell silent.
In his view, Ginny, the sweet-smiling little witch who had just won the second-year Division championship that afternoon, was now using the 'Entrail-Expelling' and 'Blood-Boiling Curse' to torture an enemy. The world felt deeply wrong. If you're going to kill someone, just do so. Was there really a need to make it this disgusting?
Grindelwald couldn't help saying, "You're not going to stop her?"
"Why would I?" Lucifer replied casually, "My maid' isn't a pervert. She's just using this to get used to blood and grow faster. I'm thrilled if anything. Why would I stop her?"
Not easy, really. Finally, someone except Susan, around him could shoulder real responsibility. A bit unhinged, sure, but as long as she was ruthless enough, that was fine.
"Crouch came to see you?" He asked offhandedly.
Grindelwald nodded while moving his gaze away from the unnecessary blood, "He was very honest, laid out everything from beginning to end. As long as his son can escape Voldemort's grip, nothing else matters to him anymore. That's why I came to you," he continued. "I want to know how you plan to use Crouch."
The old man phrased it cleverly. He wasn't dumping responsibility, simply defined Crouch's placement as Lucifer's task, even he didn't immediately notice. Thinking for a moment, then he smiled.
"Perfect timing, isn't it? Tell Crouch that this time I plan to clash with Fudge head-on."
He'd seen Bones's warning, knew the honeymoon with Fudge was over. In the past, he might have considered tossing some gold around, staging a few spectacles to keep him steady.
But now? Was he really going to change his plans because of Fudge and play some roundabout game? He tried several times for 'First Order of Merlin', but didn't get it.
Grindelwald inclined his head.
"Then let's test Crouch's resolve and ability. Just don't let your little girlfriend go too far. If her nature really twists, that'll be troublesome."
With that, he prepared to leave, but Lucifer stopped him, "Find a chance to shake Dumbledore off. I'll need... about a full day."
"....What are you planning to do?"
The Devil smiled.
"Purification."
xxxxxxx
After parting ways with Ginny quietly to Gryffindors dorm, Lucifer then headed to his meeting spot. Professors Isabella Voray and Alessio Villa from Castelobruxo were already waiting when he arrived.
"Mr. Morningstar."
As soon as Lucifer appeared, Isabella greeted him with a radiant smile, he didn't waste words, pulled out the mass of Basilisk flesh he'd kept frozen.
Three hundred pounds sounded like a lot, but after chopping off the head and tail of the entire serpent and removing its organs and bones, the remaining usable meat easily exceeded 'fifteen' tons. What he brought was barely two percent of that.
Besides, even those "three hundred pounds" weren't entirely honest. Watered down, of course, Lucifer was quite good at that. Realistically, it was closer to two hundred fifty, but no one could tell the difference.
Not that Isabella or Alessio even tried to check. The moment she confirmed it really was basilisk meat, her entire face lit up. She tucked it away happily, then handed Lucifer a notebook.
"Mr. Morningstar, this contains everything about Druidic Transfiguration and potioncraft."
"The materials you'll need are being shipped from Castelobruxo, it'll take some time, but I guarantee they'll arrive before we leave. If you run into any problems while studying, feel free to ask me anytime."
She even offered a friendly bit of advice, "I recommend starting with the most basic forms, ordinary animals, cows or sheeps. Magical creatures are much riskier. Please be careful..."
"Thank you for the warning. I'll keep that in mind," Lucifer said, nodding politely without rejecting her goodwill. The exchange went smoothly. After wrapping up, he left the observatory and made his way to Hell's Domain, where he opened the notebook and began reading.
He read it from cover to cover, quickly grasping the core principles of Druidic shapeshifting.
The spell revolved around using flesh and blood from the target creature to brew a potion, which would then stir one's own blood into a state of violent reaction. Only with the protection of magical "Emerald Vines" could the transformation be completed safely.
The key difference from becoming an Animagus was Druidic transfiguration allowed you to change into magical creatures. The duration depended on several factors, the potency and amount of creature's essence, quality of the potion, and the caster's skill.
Fifteen minutes was the rough upper limit. Trying to transform again too soon could lead to irreversible consequences, turning permanently into a beast. Lucifer made a projection copy and stored it in his space for Grindelwald to review.
The method reminded him of Slytherin's old blood fusion experiments, different approaches that sought the same goal.
xxxxxxx
At dawn, when the 'first' scream rang out in Diagon Alley, entire street erupted in chaos. People gathered in front of the Arkham Asylum Guild, eyes filled with terror.
More than twenty corpses were nailed to stone pillars. The row on the left was burned to charcoal, right was frozen into ice sculptures, Visual shock made the witches retch on spot, those who didn't vomit still went pale.
"Th-that... are those goblins?" A bookstore clerk asked uncertainly, "What happened last night?"
"I know him. He's from the Bask family. And those others, they're from Knockturn Alley... Merlin's saggy underpants, they're just dead like this?"
More than twenty lives. For British Wizarding society, this was a massacre that would go down in history, even Voldemort had never been this unrestrained.
"Lucifer Morningstar... is a madman."
Standing at the back of the crowd, Ollivander felt his heart pound. This kind of retaliation was 'far' too ruthless. Even if it was self-defense, he would still be seen as a dark figure. The Ministry might even move to arrest him. Were they about to see the birth of another Dark Lord?
The thought sent a chill through him.
Ollivander turned and staggered away. No, he couldn't stay in Britain anymore, needed to find somewhere to lie low first, then come back once the dust had settled.
"Make some room, make some room. Why are you all crowding the entrance? We're not even open yet."
Yawning as he arrived for work, Burke fought his way through the crowd. Only when he reached the door did he finally look up, and then he froze, "Holy shit."
xxxxxxx
At the 'Ministry of Magic,' Fudge paced back and forth in his office, barely able to contain himself. Suddenly, he slammed his hand on the desk. "Good. Very good!"
Only then did he realize there were others in the room, and quickly corrected himself, "No, I mean, how vicious! Lucifer Morningstar treats life like nothing at all. Lawless, absolutely lawless!"
There was no direct evidence yet that Lucifer had done it himself, but that hardly mattered. People were dead, and their bodies had been nailed up in front of the Guild as a public warning. Even if it wasn't him personally, he was undeniably involved.
"Exactly, Minister," Umbridge chimed in, her voice sickeningly sweet, her nose still had white tape marks from the cup she received, "I've said it before. Morningstar has no respect for the Ministry or the law. Under Dumbledore's protection, he runs wild. So young, yet already this cruel. Give him a few more years and won't he become another...!"
She stopped at just the right moment, her unfinished sentence making Fudge's heart jolt. Another Dark Lord?
He'd long felt that Lucifer had no real respect for him as Minister, just like Dumbledore. Before, there hadn't been a conflict of interest. Some of his actions had even benefited him.
But now they were openly at odds, and that boy still refused to rein himself in, "Scrimgeour, you... forget it." Fudge had been about to order the man to take Aurors to Hogwarts and arrest Lucifer on the spot, but after a moment's thought, he decided to play it safer.
They were already on the verge of a rupture. Going to the school to arrest a student would be slapping Dumbledore in the face and might even spark a confrontation. Better to talk first.
"I'll contact Dumbledore personally. Wait for my word."
Scrimgeour frowned, clearly unwilling, but nodded and left the office.
"Minister, I think the most important thing right now is to understand what led to this," Amelia Bones had to leave for office today early, her eyes showed a bit of sleepiness, "He doesn't kill indiscriminately. And many of the dead were wanted fugitives, scum from Knockturn Alley...Hmm... Why did they die at the entrance of the 'Arkham Asylum Guild?' That's what we need to find out. Arresting him rashly will only escalate things."
Fudge tugged at his collar, irritation written all over his face. "Of course we'll investigate. But we also have to make arrests, do you have any idea how much impact this has caused? That was Diagon Alley, the busiest place of all.... I guarantee that by this afternoon, every wizard in Britain will know about this outrage!"
Bones opened her mouth to argue further, but Fudge had already sat down and picked up the WhatsApp to contact Dumbledore.
Umbridge, wearing that nauseating smile, politely but firmly escorted Amelia Bones out, she was told to not put more stress on the baby, and go take a holiday, being a pregnant lady, could only let out a helpless sigh.
She headed straight for the public Floo, tossed in a pinch of specially prepared Floo powder, and disappeared into the flames bound for Greengrass Manor.
xxxxxx
Hogwarts, Slytherin common room.
Every single little snake had been blocked at the entrance by their prefects, and then escorted together to stand before Lucifer.
This had only happened once before. Back then, he had ordered everyone to target a Ravenclaw girl who bullied Luna. To this day, that girl was socially dead, completely isolated, without a single friend. So, who was it this time? The matter was really serious, Lucifer didn't go to any of the useless naive Gryffindors.
Some older students wore gleeful expressions, already guessing which unlucky soul had offended him.
"Last night, I killed some people."
Cradling Crookshanks, who no one knew how had wandered in here, Lucifer spoke casually. The words, however, made every Slytherin's face go pale, their hearts lurching.
The common room fell dead silent as they waited for him to continue.
"Someone got greedy and went after the gold and valuables I keep in Arkham Asylum. Small matters. I've already dealt with them, that said, there will be some follow-up trouble. I'm tired of it, so I'll let you handle it."
Sweeping his gaze across the room, Lucifer eyed these individuals who faltered under his terrifying redness in the pupils, "Not many of your parents hold posts in the Ministry, but I trust the foundations of your families. You're always saying the Wizarding world belongs to pure bloods. Well, now's the time to prove."
"You have three days. I want to see 'Minister Fudge' publicly supporting my actions in the papers, and apologizing to me on behalf of the Ministry for Magic."
"Anyone who contributes will become a classmate of mine, Lucifer Morningstar, and receive generous rewards. As for the rest..." He smiled faintly, that said enough, "We won't even be on nodding terms in the future. Understand?"
"Y-yes, understood!"
The little snakes panicked.
Draco Malfoy immediately pulled out his WhatsApp to contact his father. Not even on nodding terms? Did that mean he'd be shoved into a wall like Eustace Burke? No. Absolutely not, he had seen, how horrified the guy was!
'There's a reward too? Just wait for me, Potter.'
Last night, Lucifer had still been thinking about how to mess with Fudge. After sleeping on it, though, everything suddenly felt dull and pointless. The thought of having to rack his brains just to deal with a pig sitting in a high office 'filled' him with irritation, he roughly fucked entire Azuma 'family, with Fubuki taking the worst of his cock in her every hole.
Being thoroughly relaxed after, today, he decided to learn from Voldemort.
Among Slytherin, there were quite a few genuinely loyal supporters to him, others supported him for benefits, to be in positions like Carrow or Burke. But none of that really mattered, what did, was efficacy.
He gave an order, and you carry it out. Obedient ones were good children who get a reward. Disobedient... well, he wouldn't really do anything to them, but they themselves will 'fear' that tag.
That little speech scared Draco Malfoy senseless and left rest of the snakes frozen in place. Ever since Lucifer enrolled at Hogwarts, whether it was what he did in school or outside, it all boiled down to one word: ruthless.
They were still practicing Lumos in the classroom, while he was already out there harvesting lives. Who wouldn't be afraid of a kid like that?
One by one, they rushed to declare their loyalty. Genuine or fake, it didn't matter. No one dared to hesitate. They didn't even stop to eat, each of them pulling out their contact lists and calling home in tears.
Draco's dorm mates were the most enthusiastic of all. Zabini didn't just call his mother; he even reached out to relatives from several former stepfathers and every so-called friend he could think of.
A sixth-year student suddenly yelled, half-panicked, "Zabini! That's my dad, damn it! I don't need you telling him!"
Another student looked shocked.
"What the hell? Zabini, how do you know my second uncle? Oh-wait. My third uncle was your 'fifth stepfather.' I forgot."
"Blaise Zabini, hand over your damn WhatsApp, Now!"
Even Lucifer couldn't help twitching at the corner of his mouth. He had a feeling Zabini might be the best connected pureblood of the lot.
Parents all over the place received frantic, incoherent pleas from their children and were left completely baffled. Once they managed to piece together what was going on, many of them sucked in a sharp breath.
Those with good information channels dug deeper and came back even more shaken.
Too brutal. Not just murder, but displaying the bodies on pillars for everyone to see. It was a blatant challenge to the existing order of the Wizarding world and to the authority of the Ministry itself.
To be honest, people dying in Knockturn Alley was nothing new. Wizards disappeared there every year. In quieter years, maybe a handful, in worse ones, dozens. Locals, foreigners, it made no difference. But 'killing' so openly, then announcing it to the world like Morningstar had done? The only comparison they could think of was the Dark Lord back in his heyday.
The more they learned, the heavier the 'fear' in their hearts grew. With their own children and descendants effectively in Lucifer's hands, there was little room for hesitation. Almost all of them made their choice.
Fudge had to suffer for a while.
People might wonder, just how terrifying was the influence of the pureblood families? Well... they were, roughly ten percent of the population, but controlled more than seventy percent of the Wizarding world's wealth and resources.
So even if only a fraction of them acted together, the storm they could unleash was enough to make Fudge break out in a cold sweat.
After discussing matters with Narcissa, Lucius Malfoy left the manor at once to visit his old friends in the Wizengamot. The Rosier family immediately contacted newspapers and began steering public opinion.
Others started making "adjustments" to their donations to the Ministry for the year, using money as leverage to apply pressure.
xxxxxx
Hogwarts, The Headmaster's Office
Dumbledore had already received Fudge's complaint. His brows were drawn so tightly together they nearly formed a knot. First Lucifer caused trouble, then Grindelwald. Once his old love was done, the boy started up again. What, did the two of you plan this together or what? Can't he have a bit of peace for once?
Complaining was one thing. Ignoring it was another, Dumbledore couldn't do that.
『Albus Dumbledore』: Cornelius, there must be misunderstanding here. Neither of us has a full picture of what really happened, I hope you'll uphold the impartiality expected of the Minister.
『Albus Dumbledore』: Please give me some time. I will speak with Mr. Morningstar immediately and clarify the situation.
When Fudge read it, his nose nearly twisted out of shape with anger. What did uphold impartiality mean? Was he being unfair right now? Wait... was Dumbledore warning him?
"Lawless. Absolutely lawless! Lucifer Morningstar deserves to rot in Azkaban, and Dumbledore too!" Fudge slammed his notebook down. He was so furious that even Umbridge didn't dare approach him. What he couldn't possibly understand was that this wasn't a warning at all.
It was protection. If the conflict kept escalating and the Ministry sent Aurors to make arrests, Dumbledore was absolutely certain Lucifer would kill them head on.
There was no magic in the Wizarding world that could accurately gauge someone's true strength. As long as Lucifer didn't show his hand, even Dumbledore had no idea how far the boy had gone in his magical research.
But he believed, deep down, that boy was now only under him and Grindelwald.
Even he couldn't defeat the boy in a short time, and if Lucifer wanted to, he wouldn't be able to stop him.
"Faw---"
The situation was urgent.
Dumbledore instinctively wanted to have Fawkes fetch the boy, but when he looked at the empty phoenix perch, he remembered that his bird hadn't returned in a long time.
"...Phineas, please go and ask Mr. Morningstar to come here," he said wearily.
Phineas, on the other hand, was anything but tired. One look at Dumbledore's expression told him there was fresh gossip to be had. He vanished from his portrait the moment he heard the words.
Gryffindor Common Room was empty, so his brain clicked, and he reached the Slytherin common room, Phineas's hunch was right, Lucifer was taking to pure-bloods, he hurried over and called out.
"Morningstar, you brat. Dumbledore's looking for you."
Lucifer wasn't surprised in the least, instead to his dumbstruck face even nodded at Phineas calmlyz "I'll go right away. Tell the Headmaster to have breakfast prepared for me..."
Half an hour later,
Dumbledore waited until he finished the last bite of his scrambled eggs before asking helplessly, "Lucifer, can you tell me exactly what happened?"
"Headmaster, it's really very simple."
The boy dabbed his mouth elegantly with a napkin, "A group of criminals tried to break into my territory. Should I have spared them and invited to stay for Christmas?"
Dumbledore tried to guide the child back toward something resembling normal reasoning. "You could have captured them and handed them over to the Ministry."
Lucifer paused and blinked at him hard, for several seconds he didn't say a word,"You're joking, right?!The Ministry's efficiency. Surely you understand it, even if they handled it, those people would just sit in Azkaban for a while. And then..."
"And then what?" he frowned.
"More people would start eyeing my things," Lucifer said with a helpless sigh, tinged with pity for those fools, "Solving problems the 'proper' way doesn't deter anyone. It only convinces them success is possible. The same will happen once, twice, maybe countless times. I'm not like you. I don't have the luxury of wasting endless time on clowns...."
Dumbledore's eyes flickered. He had to admit the boy wasn't wrong. Greed had no limits, and only the harshest measures could scare most people away.
"You have your patience," he continued calmly. "I have my way of doing things. Headmaster," Lucifer filled both teacups without using magic and spoke at an unhurried pace, "Last time, I followed your rules. That's why the Graves 'family' didn't suffer heavy losses. But what good did that do? Werewolves, vampires, bottom-feeders like that all dared to make a move on my business. Oh, and goblins too... I'll be heading to Gringotts later to have a talk with them. So, I'll be asking for leave. I won't be attending classes today."
"..." On top of everything, he wanted a day off from school?
"Anyway, if I hadn't killed anyone last night and had obediently waited for the Ministry to act, do you believe me when I say I'd end up killing even more people later? Uh! And don't worry. I won't become a second Voldemort. He killed for pleasure, to satisfy his twisted desires. I don't like killing.... I use it only because it results in fewer deaths overall and saves time."
Today, Lucifer laid all his cards on the table, he didn't want to be enemies with Dumbledore. Setting everything else aside, the old man had always treated him well.
Aside from Newt and Nicolas, Dumbledore was the only one who had shown him genuine kindness from the very first day they met.
Lifting his teacup, the Headmaster drank slowly. When he set it down, it was as if he had made a decision, "I've said before killing is an extremely unpleasant experience for a wizard. It can have... unpredictable effects on your soul and your character. I've spent my life trying to avoid that path. I ask you, my child, if anything like this happens again, inform me beforehand. I will step in and clear the obstacles for you..."
"Um..."
"Lucifer, you have a brilliant future ahead, but people's ingrained perceptions are hard to change. In the eyes of those greedy hyenas, this old man still carries more weight than you."
He stared at Dumbledore in shock, had imagined many possible directions this conversation could take. But this outcome, his willingness to personally intervene on behalf just to reduce the blood on a student's hands, was something Lucifer had never anticipated.
At the same time, Crouch closed his WhatsApp with a stunned expression.
He stood there in a daze for several minutes before striding out decisively, heading for Professor McGonagall's office to borrow her fireplace.
By noon, the 'Daily Prophet' released an emergency extra, laying out the details for everyone to see.
The front-page photo showed the scene outside the Arkham Asylum Guild. The killing aura practically spilled off the page. Bodies were nailed to pillars served as a blunt reminder to anyone harboring bad ideas of what would happen if they attacked Lucifer or Wizard's Guild.
And it wasn't that Ministry hadn't tried to remove the bodies. They did, but the magic Lucifer used was even more effective than a 'Permanent Sticking Charm'. Short of blowing the corpses apart, no one could move them an inch.
Even Burke sent a message to complain. Thanks to boss's handiwork, the guild entrance was deserted today. No one dared come to post or take on missions.
As for the boy's ruthless methods, Eustace had only one gripe. Why hadn't Lucifer told him? He had a bit of a chivalrous streak now, believed in swift justice. If someone deserved to die, he wouldn't hesitate, especially after Voldemort's destruction, who was once employed at his father's shop, and threatening Burke's grandmother, if her husband hadn't conceded, he wouldn't even be born.
If enemies were already kicking down the door and you still played nice, Burke would think you were being soft. That, and he loved chaos a little too much.
xxxxxxx
Hogwarts,
The Great Hall, usually buzzing with noise, was eerily quiet. The young witches and wizards barely dared to breathe. Numb hands were holding newspapers, trembling, every so often, someone would glance at the empty seat next to Hermione, eyes filled with fear.
Slytherins were doing a bit better, they'd gotten word ahead of time.
Once the panic settled, a strange thrill crept in. If other houses were afraid of Lucifer, didn't that mean they were afraid of Slytherins too?
After this incident, they were well and truly tied to him. Slytherin's revival now rested squarely on his shoulders, they were linked. Of course, all of that assumed Voldemort stayed dead. If he ever came back, some people might jump ship. For now, though, their interests aligned.
The professors at the high table wore complicated expressions of their own.
Grindelwald looked as if he'd just heard the news for the first time, reading the paper with obvious interest, line by line.
The article had clearly received plenty of input from various sources, and the author was Rita Skeeter. The slant was exactly what you'd expect. She savaged the Ministry for its inaction, asking why so many criminals could openly operate in Diagon Alley.
As for Arkham Asylum's response, she framed it as perfectly in line with the sacred principle of inviolable private property, with nothing illegal or inappropriate about it. With heavy sarcasm, she wrote:
{I suggest the Ministry consider outsourcing Auror duties to the Arkham Asylum Guild.}
{They catch more criminals in a single daythan the Ministry does in years combined.}
{The Ministry can't bring any safety to us. Think of Sirius Black. Where is he now?}
The corner of Grindelwald's mouth lifted slightly. This reporter was good. Sharp-tongued, ruthless. He'd heard she'd written more than a few pieces taking digs at Dumbledore too.
A real talent, he should borrow her from Lucifer sometime and commission a few articles. But for now, there was something more important to do.
Mockery.
"Albus, is this really true?" Grindelwald asked, wearing an exaggerated look of surprise as he turned to the calm old man beside him, "Is life in Britain really this chaotic? That was Diagon Alley, your most prosperous commercial street. And over twenty people stormed a single shop? In a place that important, does your.... Ministry not have Aurors stationed nearby on regular patrol?"
This wasn't just teasing Dumbledore anymore. Grindelwald was slapping the entire British Wizarding world across the face. What did it feel like to have a Dark Lord mock your public security?
None of the professors had ever imagined they'd experience that. Now that they had, the only word for it was bittersweet. Their expressions were a sight to behold, only Snape seemed indifferent who was busy thinking about Lucifer's intentions, and about Dumbledore's unusual calm.
Of everyone in the school, he probably understood his student best. What Dumbledore saw was only what Lucifer wanted him to see. Snape knew that beneath the apparent arrogance, brat was cautious to the extreme.
'Morningstar never provoked anyone stronger than himself. That was why he behaved so obediently in front of Dumbledore.... Did he really not realize that killing so many people would change how he viewed him?'
'No, he knew. Then why do it?'
Paired with Dumbledore's strange composure, Snape's curiosity only grew, 'Those two... They hadn't already fought, had they? And Morningstar won? Maybe Grindelwald intervened?'
"Mr. Grindelwald," Dumbledore said gently, shaking his head, "The Ministry's arrangements are not something a school Headmaster is privy to."
He showed no reaction to mockery at all. If anything, the polite "Mr. Grindelwald" made Gellert look faintly uncomfortable.
"If you want to know more," he even added, "You can always ask the Ministry yourself."
"Heh, no need for that," Grindelwald shot back, his time was precious, "I just think an environment like this is holding Morningstar back. He'd be better off transferring to Durmstrang. The guild's headquarters would be in Berlin, and I guarantee no one would dare give him any trouble there."
"Oh! Actually, Paris isn't bad either."
To Dumbledore's annoyance, Madame Maxime decided to join in. To poach talent, she didn't even mind siding with Grindelwald as she pressed the issue, "Minister Cress often speaks very highly of Mr. Morningstar He asked me to pass along his regards this time as well."
The world now acknowledged two truly peerless wizards: Grindelwald and Dumbledore. And aside from them, the one most people believed had the best chance of reaching that level was the prodigy Lucifer.
France was desperate to produce a Super Mage of its own, to avoid the fate of folding at the 'first' sign of pressure.
Madame Maxime didn't care how many nameless vagrants or petty thieves Lucifer had killed. What she wanted was for Beauxbatons to crush every other magical school and stand at the top of the world.
"He has his own choices," Dumbledore said with a faint smile, refusing to take the bait, "And at the moment, he doesn't seem interested in leaving Hogwarts. I'm afraid you'll both be disappointed." After his conversation that morning, he felt unusually light-hearted, wasn't worried about anyone trying to steal Lucifer away.
xxxxxx
Meanwhile...
Lucifer had already left the school. But instead of heading straight to Gringotts, he made a detour back to Nicolas Flamel's house.
Tina, Newt, and Nicolas had all gotten the news and urged him to come back immediately. What could he say? He had to go.
"That's pretty much the whole thing. It really wasn't a big deal."
He extracted fragments of memory and, used Nicolas's opera hall to replay the scene. The entire room functioned like a massive Pensieve, letting viewers experience the memories as if they were there.
Lucifer had watched operas here a few times before. The performers were legendary figures from centuries past, and the experience was always breathtaking.
Naturally, he didn't show them the part where Ginny trained herself. The memory cut off the moment he dragged Bask into the guild building.
"Sigh..."
Newt sighed audibly. These people hadn't deserved to die, some of them were even innocent in a way. Running a few illegal side hustles was just how they survived.
"Sigh..."
Tina did it too. If you're going to kill, then kill, but why make it so bloody and brutal? No, she'd have to do some psychological counseling for her kids in the 'future'. She couldn't let them turn into psychopaths like Lucifer.
"Sigh..."
Nicolas sighed as well, looking at the boy with reproach, "Such a waste. An absolute waste. Perfect materials delivered right to your doorstep, and what do you do? No spirituality left? No nutrients harvested? You had to do it so crudely. What did it accomplish besides causing trouble?"
"....." Lucifer now felt that he was simply too kind-hearted, which created a generational gap between him and Flamel.
Nicolas then began to scold him for scaring people off and cutting off future material supplies, even calling an idiot on top of that. This old man was vicious.
"Fine, fine. If you want materials, don't come looking for me," Lucifer shot back, "I'm just dumb, poor Morningstar, fallen from grace. And honestly, old man, if I don't make an example of them, I'll be buried in trouble later... If I spend all my time dealing with trash like that, am I supposed to stop our research altogether?"
Nicolas shot him a sideways glance, "Aren't you too busy juggling several little girlfriends? You can't even placate women properly. Hmph, don't go around telling people you're my apprentice."
"I never said it," he muttered lowly, "You're dead as far as the world's concerned. If I told anyone I was your student, who'd believe me?"
That did it. The old man nearly exploded, glaring with his beard bristling. Sensing danger, Lucifer slipped away at once, leaving Newt and Tina behind to coax Nicolas like a sulking child.
xxxxxxx
Diagon Alley,
Lucifer walked step by step toward Gringotts. Today, Diagon Alley was unusually deserted. It wasn't just the Arkham Asylum Guild. The entire street felt "empty and lifeless."
Along the way, no one recognized him, very center of the storm. Everyone hurried through their business and fled the area as quickly as possible, eager to escape the bad luck hanging over the place. The other shopkeepers were probably cursing under their breath.
Finding it almost amusing, Lucifer hadn't expected British wizards to have such weak nerves. A few deaths, and they were scared stiff. No wonder Voldemort's rise hadn't even involved that much killing before people panicked and the Ministry nearly surrendered.
Tsk, no backbone at all.
"Uhh..." Pedestrians didn't recognize Lucifer, but the two goblins guarding Gringotts did the moment he drew close. Their expressions changed instantly, then twisted into ingratiating smiles as they hurried forward.
"Mr. Morningstar, your arrival brings great honor to Gringotts. The Manager has been waiting for you since morning, hoping to personally explain this unfortunate misunderstanding."
"A what?" Lucifer rolled the word around in his head, eyes narrowing slightly. The two goblins were blasted backward as if struck by lightning, slamming hard into the gilded doors behind. Their eyes rolled back, and both collapsed unconscious.
"This is no misunderstanding," he said calmly, "I'm here today to cause your Goblins species trouble."
xxxxxxx
"'Hah-!"
Inside the manager's office at Gringotts, Doug, the head of Gringotts UK, lit a cigar. The scent of cedarwood and cream hit his tongue, but he had no mood to savor it.
The moment two goblins were strung up at the entrance of the Arkham Asylum Guild, Doug knew things had gone very wrong. As business partners, the goblins actually understood Lucifer's way of doing things better than most. More greedy than goblins, colder than vampires, more brutal than "werewolves."
Internally, opinions of him were nothing but curses. And yet they still had to pinch their noses and trail behind him to make money. They had never stopped trying to crack his payment system, but now couldn't even understand the runes he used, let alone copy them. That goal was still a distant dream.
Still, things had been fine up to that point. With profits high enough, they could always turn a blind eye. During a period of rapid growth, every contradiction was easy to bury.
But once Lucifer founded the Arkham Asylum Guild and siphoned off a massive share of their capital, cracks split wide open. In just one month, thirteen branches had appeared. All of them could bypass Gringotts' 'financial' system and trade internally.
And when that number became thirty, sixty...When they spread across the world, it would be a second, even larger Gringotts. Going from monopoly to competition. How were goblins supposed to accept that?
But before they could even make a move, two goblins let their greed get the better of them and joined the raid in Knockturn Alley. Not only did they alert the enemy, now Doug had to face Morningstar's interrogation.
What kind of cursed situation was this?! Just as Doug was desperately calculating what price might be enough to calm the boy down- BOOM!
The door was blown apart.
Smoke rolled in as Lucifer walked through it. He frowned slightly when he saw Doug standing there blankly, cigar still in hand.
"Living it up, huh? Davidoff Nicaragua Robusto?"
"You actually know that?" Doug blurted out without thinking. How could a kid wizard possibly recognize something like that?
Lucifer glanced at the ash ring and snorted, "Didn't even age it for a full month before smoking it. Figures. Pearls before swine, no matter how good something is, it turns filthy in goblin hands..."
Doug's face flushed bright red, the boy had hit the mark. He really hadn't aged it for long. Still, he quickly recovered and forced out a smile, as if the shattered door and broken planks on the floor didn't exist.
"Mr. Morningstar, you certainly arrived quickly." As he spoke, he slid a stack of documents forward, smiling ingratiatingly, "This is all a misunderstanding. Ful and Bice are indeed employees of Gringotts, but this was absolutely not our intention. It was entirely their own, personal actions."
"They owed enormous gambling debts and acted out of desperation. If you don't believe me, I've even prepared witnesses. 'Veritaserum, the Imperius Curse', you're free to verify however you like."
"Mr. Morningstar, this is truly just a misunderstanding. To show our sincerity, Gringotts is willing to offer one hundred thousand Galleons as compensation... We hope you'll be magnanimous and let this matter end here. We can continue our pleasant cooperation."
Lucifer didn't answer, flipped through the documents, nodding occasionally, "Hm. Looks pretty convincing. Didn't expect goblins to gamble too. Learned something new today. Fine, I believe you...."
Doug's face lit up with joy. Before he could say anything, Lucifer snapped the folder shut. Blue flames ignited in his hand, and in the blink of an eye, the documents were reduced to ash.
"But so what?"
The boy smiled faintly, and Doug's heart went cold. What did that mean? Was he still going to press on? Should I offer money?
"Doug, you've misunderstood one thing."
Lucifer leaned forward slightly, his demonic eyes glowing red, it was an impulsive gesture, whenever he got angry, "In a wizard's eyes, goblins are never seen as individuals. You are a race. And Gringotts represents all goblins. I don't care who it was, or why they thought they... could mess with me. All I know is this. Goblins did it. Gringotts people did it. And you think tossing me this little bit of money is enough to send me away? If you weren't still somewhat useful to me, I would've ground you into dust already...."
Under that icy killing intent, Doug stumbled backward in terror. By accident, his hand hit the emergency button. 'Wee-ooo Wee-ooo!'
The once-silent corridor instantly erupted into chaos as a squad of goblins in full armor charged in, spears and swords raised.
Aside from their obsession with gold, goblins also had a natural talent for forging weapons and magical artifacts. The most famous example was the Sword of Gryffindor, but countless other treasures appeared throughout legends and myths.
The armor they wore had terrifying defensive power. Even spells barely left a mark.
"Stop! Morningstar! What do you think you're doing to Doug!" The goblin at the front raised his sword and shouted.
Lucifer frowned and slapped his hand downward. An immense force slammed into the space itself. Gravity was rewritten in an instant, and 'fine' downward ripples appeared in the invisible air.
'Thud! Thud!'
Every goblin collapsed to the ground. The pressure kept increasing.
In Doug's horrified stare, amid the goblins' shrill screams, every last one of them, armor included was crushed into a grotesque slurry of flesh and steel fused together.
"So noisy..." Lucifer muttered, eyes lowered. From start to finish, he never once looked back. Wrapping magic in pure will to form a crushing pressure field was not hard. The real difficulty was pushing it to that level of precision and 'force.' That required both flawless mechanics and absolute power.
Miss either one, and it would fail.
"Um... you're not qualified to negotiate with me. Get me the old bastards at Headquarters. Don't waste my time."
Doug swallowed hard and shakily pulled out a communication ledger to contact Gringotts headquarters. Very quickly, three ugly goblin heads appeared on the small sheet of parchment. One of them asked impatiently, "Well, Doug? Is it handled?"
"It's only just beginning, Famur."
Lucifer chuckled softly. The ledger floated upright on its own, facing him. When the three old goblins saw the boy's strikingly handsome face, their expressions darkened instantly.
And, it was Famur who sighed, "Name your terms. Don't go overboard. You know this wasn't Gringotts' intention. Those two idiots acted on their own."
"I'm no lion," Lucifer said lightly, rolling his fingers. After a brief pause, he bared his fangs like a venomous snake, "I just want... ninety percent of Gringotts UK's profits, and full management control."
"This... This year's?" Famur asked, clinging to hope.
"Every year, every year I'm alive. Or rather, every year Gringotts exists. Put it this way, from now on, British Gringotts has nothing to do with you. I'll leave you ten percent to pay employees wages."
"NO WAY!" Famur's face was red with anger, and it took their ugliness to another level. The other two goblins weren't much better. But at the same time, they were confused. How did a human become greedier than them? Damn it, even they weren't this ruthless when making demands.
"Morningstar, just kill all the goblins in Britain," Famur said harshly. "We can't afford that price. This time, we admit defeat."
"Alright." Lucifer nodded and slowly extended a hand toward the trembling Doug.
"G-Grandpa! Grandpa, save me!" Doug screamed hysterically, his back pressed against the window, ready to jump at any second.
"Wait! Morningstar! Is this how you negotiate?!"
One of the old goblins finally broke down, "Stop, don't touch my grandson! That condition is really impossible for us to accept!"
"You've misunderstood something." Lucifer didn't lower his arm, but simply smiled at the bloody ledger made of intruder's, "This isn't a negotiation, but a notice. If you don't agree, it just means a bit more trouble for me.... I'll make some extra puppets and replace goblins altogether. You have ten seconds. Choose your path."
"You'd really kill them? Morningstar, are you trying to make an enemy of the entire wizarding world?"
"You're not qualified to represent the world. Even if you were, I wouldn't mind. Grindelwald has invited me more than once, you know. Hmm... Tell you what, I'll sweeten the pot for you."
........
In the end, Lucifer walked out of the office with a magically binding contract in hand, his steps light and unhurried.
Impossible terms? Germany, Bulgaria, Austria, and several other countries' Gringotts branches were already under Grindelwald's control. Their functions hadn't changed, but not a single Galleon of profit would ever make it back to headquarters.
And he wasn't taking Gringotts for a pile of pathetic Galleons. He wanted its money to strangle the Ministry of Magic. With Fudge having blown a massive hole in the Ministry's finances, all Lucifer had to do was tighten the tap. A minister who couldn't even pay salaries had any reason to exist?
As for the entire magical financial system, that could wait. Once the Arkham Asylum Guilds spread across all five continents and a complete, mature system was in place, he would act. Moving too aggressively now would only slow his expansion.
It wasn't worth it.
xxxxxx
Night fell.
Lucifer had returned to Hogwarts loaded with spoils. He told his girlfriend, and Greengrass sisters about his day, chatted briefly with the girl's mother about tomorrow's plans, then lay down and went to sleep without a care.
Cornelius Fudge was about to see the darkest day of his life.
The next day, under Evelyn Greengrass's careful coordination and the eager urging of the little snakes, most of Slytherin's pure-blood families gathered together.
Ministry officials. Wizengamot members. Hogwarts governors. Major shareholders. Owners of multiple businesses. Families with literal gold mines, anyone who could sneeze and give the entire British Wizarding world a cold.
Leaving Dumbledore out of the equation, Slytherin's collective power was easily the greatest among the four Houses.
Hufflepuff had no real ambition and mostly filled foundational roles. Gryffindor chased glory and reputation. Every so often, a standout would burst into the spotlight, but it never lasted.
Only some Ravenclaws truly matched Slytherin in intelligence and ability. The technical departments of companies like Nimbus and the Floo Network were almost entirely staffed by eagles.
Their hidden influence was nothing to scoff at. The problem was that they were scattered. Individually brilliant, together a mess. Instead of uniting against outsiders, they fought among themselves.
And Slytherins?
They were true old-timers of the wizarding world. Over centuries, they intermarried and allied. They weren't just classmates but relatives, after a thousand years of shared resources and interests, they naturally stood far above the other three Houses.
Lady Greengrass didn't waste words.
Everything had already been discussed through WhatsApp the night before. Once the last person arrived, she led the group in an imposing procession from the 'Magical Transportation Department' straight toward the Minister's Office.
When they passed the 'Department of Magical Law Enforcement', Amelia Bones saw the terrifying lineup and could only smile wryly. 'After today, Cornelius Fudge is finished....'
xxxxxx
The entire Ministry already knew that yesterday he had tried to arrest Morningstar, only to be stopped by Dumbledore. The situation had stalled. And now, the other side had come knocking.
Bones had no faith that Fudge could suppress these entrenched powers. If he didn't get his face slapped clean off, that alone would count as skill.
When Lady Greengrass reached the Minister's private floor, raised voices were already echoing from inside the office. Everyone paused.
Huh? Someone had beaten them here?
"Crouch, what exactly are you trying to do?! Don't forget, you're no longer the Head of Law Enforcement. You're just in charge of International Co-operation now!"
Fudge was both furious and rattled.
Yesterday, Dumbledore had blocked him. Then 'the Daily Prophet' tore into the body, nerves were already shot.
And this morning, Barty Crouch had barged in, demanding that the Ministry issue a public statement. They were to punish the perpetrators, investigate the masterminds, crack down on Knockturn Alley, and formally apologize to the Arkham Asylum Guild and Morningstar.
What shocked him even more was this sudden backbone. Crouch had been obedient for years, practically broken. Why was he suddenly so bold? Did he still have designs on the Minister's chair?
"Minister Fudge, I'm simply doing my job." Faced with Fudge's accusations, Barty Crouch calmly pulled out a stack of letters, "Eighteen countries have issued formal condemnations at the same time. They believe Britain's security situation is unstable and are demanding guarantees for the safety of their citizens."
"Several countries are preparing to issue travel warnings. I've only managed to delay them for now."
Crouch looked at him without expression, "Minister Fudge, do you still think this has nothing to do with my Department?"
"Th-this... I..."
Fudge opened his mouth but couldn't get the words out. He hadn't expected this mess to spread so fast, or for other countries to react so quickly.
No, that wasn't it. This was Morningstar applying pressure. The realization hit Fudge all at once. Everything led back to that brat, the moment he realised it, his breathing turned ragged, eyes bloodshot.
"Crouch, you're a British wizard! What other countries think is their problem. I will not allow a murderer to run rampant in Britain!"
Crouch frowned slightly. Fudge's reaction was even more extreme than he'd expected. A Minister determined to bulldoze forward left very few options. Unless... An impeachment through the Wizengamot?
A flash of cold resolve crossed his eyes, this was the first task Grindelwald had given him.
Failure was not an option.
He might have lain low for years, but some of his old connections still remained. If he joined forces with Bones, or Scrimgeour, the chances of 'forcing' Fudge out...Just as Barty Crouch was calculating how to bury Fudge in one decisive move, shouting erupted outside the door.
"Greengrass, you can't go in! You were on Maternity leave!"
"Move aside, Umbridge. This concerns the 'fate' of the wizarding world. It has nothing to do with a lowly assistant like you."
'Bang!'
The door was shoved open. Umbridge was pushed inside along with it as a group of people stormed in, radiating pressure. Crouch recognized every single one of them. In fact, he knew them well.
They were regulars at his evening banquets and, more importantly, the Ministry's biggest 'financial' backers. Every year, enormous donations flowed in from them.
"You... what are you doing?" Fudge practically stammered.
Lady Greengrass clearly had no patience left for polite chatter, she had a baby coming in a few months, and needed lots of rest, "Minister Fudge, the horrors in Diagon Alley have shocked the pillars of the Wizarding world.... We're about to enter a new century, yet the vermin of Knockturn Alley and goblins who lost multiple wizarding wars are still running rampant."

"If you refuse to take action and guarantee safety for business and daily life, then there's no reason for us to keep funding the Ministry."
She placed a list on the desk.
Fudge glanced down instinctively. As he read through it line by line, all the color drained from his face. It was filled with signatures from donors. Not just Ministry funding either. Even donations to St Mungo's had been slashed by more than half.
"Oh, right." Lady Greengrass sounded as though she'd just remembered something, then drove the knife in deeper, "Yesterday, Gringotts offered its apology by unconditionally transferring all 'future' income and management rights of the British branch to Lucifer Morningstar. That means this year's accounts between Gringotts and the Ministry will have to be recalculated."
"Fudge," She said coolly, arms crossed, "do you have anything else you'd like to say?"
The Greengrass family had always stayed neutral, never picked sides, never joined power struggles. But this wasn't a power struggle. This was simply beating a loser, there was no risk to the family's future at all.
"How is this possible... why are even you helping Morningstar?" Fudge felt like the sky was collapsing, his words came out scrambled, he never believed the boy was Merlin's descendant, "Aren't you pure-bloods? Don't you despise Muggle-born wizards? That boy is just a---"
"Shut your mouth!"
An elderly Rosier snapped sharply. "Fudge, you ignorant fool. Mr. Morningstar is a descendant of an ancient pure-blood line lost to history! I've 'found' records in the Rosier archives that prove it! His bloodline is ten thousand times nobler than yours!"
"That's right!" Someone from the Parkinson family shouted. "My family even married into Morningstar''s ancestors. If you don't believe it, come check our family tree!"
"His great-great-whatever grandmother was a Davis!" Another voice chimed in, he was the 'father' of Tracey, of course would come knocking at her daughter's request, "Do you even know what that means? We are family."
"Uh... same here with the Malfoys."
Lady Greengrass's eyelid twitched. Amid the chorus of voices, her husband's lineage was rapidly assembled into something impossibly glorious and prestigious.
"..." Fudge was stunned.
Foreign countries were against him. Now his domestic backers had turned as well. What was this? The whole world as his enemy?
"Minister Fudge," Crouch said smoothly, savoring the moment, "it seems not only our foreign friends, but also British wizards believe that the top priority right now is to clean up Knockturn Alley and issue an apology to Arkham Asylum Guild."
Barty Senior was feeling utterly satisfied, his goal had been achieved. But he hadn't expected Morningstar's methods to be this elegant. To unite so many pure-blood families under one banner was no small feat. As Fudge stood there, trapped and utterly lost, an aged voice sounded from the doorway, "Did I come at a bad time?"
Everyone turned.
Wariness flashed across their faces as they instinctively stepped aside, opening a path.
"Dumbledore?!"
As the Headmaster of Hogwarts walked forward step by step, the Slytherins watching him wore complex expressions. Hatred ran deep, but so did fear.
If not for this man blocking the Dark Lord back then, the Wizarding world would already belong to them.
Only Evelyn Greengrass didn't retreat. She frowned deeply and stopped in front of him, "Dumbledore, shouldn't you be at school looking after students instead of running around everywhere?"
She was worried this self-proclaimed guardian of order would interfere. If Dumbledore really decided to shield Fudge, and he recovered afterward, that would be bad for them.
"Please rest assured, Evelyn," Dumbledore replied gently, "With Lucifer there, your children are perfectly safe. They're happy every day, though they've had a bit of friction with the Beauxbatons champion..."
Lady Greengrass's face darkened.
'This old fox. Was he mocking my precious daughters for competing with a Veela over our man?'
Dumbledore was well aware of how Slytherin viewed him. He nodded politely to Evelyn, stepped around her, and stopped in front of Fudge.
"Albus..." Fudge looked as if he'd grabbed his last lifeline. "Look at them! They're interfering with my decisions. I'm the 'Minister for Magic!' This is all Morningstar's scheme. That boy's ambition is terrifying. You have to stop them!"
In his rigid worldview, Dumbledore and the pure-bloods were natural enemies. Now that the former were openly backing Morningstar, surely Dumbledore would finally wake up and stand with him.
But he only shook his head and spoke softly, "Cornelius, stop. For your sake and for the Wizarding world, make the right choice."
The light in Fudge's eyes went out completely.
"Cornelius, stop."
Those words hit Fudge like a bolt out of a clear blue sky. His mind went completely blank. The others were just as stunned, staring at Dumbledore in disbelief.
So... he too was one of Morningstar's reinforcements? Didn't that mean they were basically allies with Albus Dumbledore now?
The 'feeling' was strange, to say the least. Lucius Malfoy had never imagined there would come a day when his interests would line up with Dumbledore's. It was not just he who felt the absurdity. The other pure-bloods were equally unsettled.
"Dumbledore, even you are helping that brat?" Fudge tried one last desperate struggle. He refused to believe the old wizard didn't know exactly what Lucifer was doing.
"His so-called Asylum is seizing the Ministry's authority! Huge numbers of transactions bypass legal oversight. He's using money and rewards to buy loyalty, to make wizards sell themselves to him! Dumbledore, can't you see any of this?"
"He wants to control this country!"
Faced with Fudge's dire accusations well, this time it was hard to call them hysterical exaggerations. For once, he had stumbled onto the truth and laid bare Lucifer's ultimate ambition.
In this world, some were born to comfort, others to crime. Few inherit gold, most the gallows. Lucky ones were meant to savor life, and poor bastards to defy it. That saying was not really about 'fatalism', but about reality.
People start from different places, with all kinds of talents.
What really mattered was the second half: your actions. The 'future' belonged to those who shaped it from the present. Your deeds guide your 'fate...' but the higher you climb, the farther you aim.
Naturally, Lucifer was aiming for the peak. At first, his starting point had been low. But now, he had the right to demand more. So he chose a path that looked troublesome, yes, but also inevitable.
Not everyone was like Dumbledore, suppressing their own nature. That kind of self-denial was practically inhuman. Admirable, perhaps, but Lucifer had never thought it was some great virtue.
What he wanted was 'freedom.'
Complete 'free will.' Not just in form, but freedom of the mind. Absolute, unrestrained!
"Cornelius, these are nothing more than your assumptions," Dumbledore said calmly, "At its core, the Arkham Asylum Guild is a civilian organization. All of its activities fall within boundaries of the law. If you have concerns or doubts, you can address through legal means, not by acting like this... As for this incident, Lucifer is unquestionably the victim. His methods were... 'forceful,' but throughout the entire process, he did not violate any laws."
Fudge was staring at him in disbelief, was this really the Dumbledore he knew anymore, "Lucifer Morningstar used magic outside of school! He abused the Privileges I gave him! Killed more than 'twenty people!' And you're telling me that's not illegal?"
"Strictly speaking," A composed voice came from the corner, "It really isn't." Amelia Bones walked in at that moment, her belly barely covered under Ministry uniform, swaying to the front, as she guided her footsteps.
Kingsley Shacklebolt followed behind her, his face dark and grim. And when he saw who was gathered in the office, his expression grew even worse, he was not angry on Fudge's behalf, furious that these people dared to challenge authority of the Minister for Magic. If they dared to oppose Fudge now, what would stop them from opposing him in the future?
A pack of unruly troublemakers, every last one of them.
"What did you say, Bones?" Fudge snapped.
"Minister, I'm saying that Morningstar did 'not' break the law," Bones replied evenly with narrowed eyes, "Even if you put aside Adult Status, According to the 'Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery,' in special circumstances where one's life is under threat, the use of magic in self-defense is permitted."
"You call what he did self-defense?"
Seizing on the opening at once, Fudge' plucked at last straws, "If killing people counts as self-defense, then there are no criminals left in society! Bones, is this how the Head of the 'Department of Magical Law Enforcement' twists the law?"
He could see it clearly now. Not a single person here was on his side, ever since Amelia got a man, knocked herself up, she had been led astray!
Bones paid no attention to his attack and continued calmly, "The law does not specify the degree of counterattack. As long as the victim believes they are still in danger, they may respond according to their own judgment. Mr. Morningstar's choices are beyond reproach."
After all, the authority to interpret the law rested with her. In these gray areas, you could argue anything. She could produce a hundred precedents and rationales that would leave Fudge completely speechless.
The Minister for Magic was shaking with rage, his whole body trembling, the flesh on his face quivering in waves, "Fine... fine... you're all in this together. But I'm the Minister for Magic!"
"'Enough, Cornelius!"
Dumbledore's voice rose sharply. The air in the office seemed to freeze. Several Slytherins instinctively edged toward the door, ready to make a quick escape, before stopping halfway. Wait.
They were actually on the same side as Dumbledore right now. So what the hell were they afraid of?
"Cornelius, who holds the title of Minister isn't the point," Dumbledore continued calmly, his wand clutched inside the pocket, "What matters is that Wizarding world doesn't suffer pointless upheaval. Madam Bones has made it very clear, Lucifer bears no responsibility here. Don't try to seize this moment to attack him... you can't win. Do as he suggested. Apologize where you should. Clean up Knockturn Alley if it needs cleaning. That is the Ministry's responsibility too. If you can't even grasp that, then..."
He paused.
"I believe someone else would be better suited to the job."
"Hiss..."
Lucius Malfoy, Parkinson, Selwyn, Davis and the others all sucked in a sharp breath. Albus Dumbledore's broad back blurred before their eyes, almost overlapping with another familiar figure, one who favored green robes.
Those words were restrained, even polite, but the tone and sheer force of will behind them were more overbearing and unyielding than their 'former' master ever was.
The White Dark Lord, the thought rose unbidden in everyone's mind.
xxxxx
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