Lucifer turned to face the smooth stone wall across from the 'Barnabas the Barmy' tapestry. He focused his mind, his brow furrowing as he began pacing the corridor. 'I need a room with mushrooms,' he thought silently, testing the castle's response lines.
He turned on his heel. "I need a room with mushrooms."
He turned again. 'I need a room with mushrooms.'
Three paces forward, three paces back, repeating the sequence three times. The solid wall shimmered faintly, a brief ripple passing through the stone, but no door materialized. "Huh? It didn't work?" A flash of disappointment crossed Lucifer's face. He lowered his expectations, shifting his focus. "I need a room with RPGs...."
Another three paces across the flagstones. The wall trembled slightly under the weight of his localized intent, but still, there was no result.
"I need a room with a hundred G-nomes."
This time, not even a single magical flicker responded from the stone.
"And this is what they call the legendary 'Room of Requirement?'" Lucifer muttered, rolling his eyes in frustration. "It can't even fulfill basic needs..." With a heavy sigh of resignation, he finally gave up on trying to acquire advanced weapons for their defense. 'Maybe my conceptual requests were just a bit too much for the architecture... or maybe the Hogwarts Founders who created this room just weren't that advanced in magical engineering.'
Standing behind him in the drafty corridor and watching him aggressively mutter nonsense to a blank wall, Hermione Granger looked utterly dumbfounded. She had been with Lucifer long enough to know exactly what kind of crazy, non-magical requests the boy had just made to the castle's internal wards.
"Alright, enough ridiculous nonsense," She said sharply, her voice carrying a strict girlfriend authority as she grabbed his arm,"We'll be coming to this room strictly to train the students in practical magic, Lucifer, not to build a muggle military base."
"Fine, fine," he murmured, a lazy smirk returning to his lips.
xxxxxx
Early the following morning, the heavy wooden door of the fifth-year girls' dormitory clicked softly as Hermione slipped back inside the room.
"So, how was your night tour?" Parvati Patil asked instantly from her bed, her dark eyes shining with gossip. She had been patiently awaiting her arrival, and the moment the door was fully closed, she caught the breathless look on the bushy-haired girl's face.
"It was..." Hermione trailed off, a brilliant, dreamy smile creeping across her features as she collapsed flat onto her mattress, burying her face in her hands. "It was amazing."
"That good, huh?" Parvati inquired, wiggling her eyebrows mischievously as she sat up. She looked around the dim room to ensure Lavender Brown was still fast asleep in her four-poster, realizing she didn't have to pretend to be quiet anymore.
Hermione's face instantly blushed a deep, vibrant crimson, her skin burning under her curls. "His face... looked like he was in absolute heaven or something when it happened....."
"Damn," Parvati gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest as she began fanning herself. "I honestly can't believe you basically went and peed on the guy inside the baths!"
"I love him, Parvati... more than anything in this world," She sighed happily, rolling over into her soft pillows as a wave of complete content washed through her chest. "Last night, it was just super romantic out there with the downpour and everything... and he asked me to try it, and it just naturally happened."
Parvati smiled warmly, genuinely happy to see her friend so fulfilled. "And you're glad it did, obviously."
"Glad is a massive understatement," Hermione said, her eyes glancing up at the canopy with a wide smile, "God, Parvati, you have no idea how much I love that guy."
"I think I have a pretty good idea," She smirked, remembering the countless times during their early terms where Hermione had gushed over Lucifer's scores and looks. "I'm genuinely glad you're happy, Mione... but let it be known right now, if that boy ever does a single thing to hurt your feelings, I'll be the first lioness in line to kiss his arse!"
"That will never happen, and just in case your memory failed you, his arse belongs entirely to me!" Hermione laughed out loud, throwing a soft pillow at her. "But I truly appreciate how protective you are of me."
"Of course," Parvati said, sliding off her mattress to join the brunette on her sheets, engulfing her in a tight hug.
"He promised to do it inside me one day," Hermione whispered, a shy smile breaking through her blush as she pulled back from her friend's embrace.
"Merlin, you mean do it inside your puss—bloody hell, Mione!" She burst out laughing, playfully slapping the girl on the shoulder.
Drewing through her own breathless laughter, bushy-haired girl's eyes went wide. "Maybe the arse too!"
This only made the two of them laugh harder, collapsing back onto the pillows as they squealed together like the best friends they were. When laughter finally subsided into the quiet room, a peaceful silence overcame the corner as they caught their breath.
Rolling over onto her side, Parvati propped her head up on her arm, a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips. "So, seriously... how big is his—?"
She was cut off mid-sentence as Hermione ruthlessly smacked her right in the face with a spare bolster pillow.
xxxxxxx
The day that followed this morning was significantly more cheerful and bright than the dreary days that had preceded it. Instead of sitting rigidly inside the stuffy Common Room all day to get their mountain of O.W.L. work done, Harry and Ron took their textbooks outside into the autumn courtyard, and Lucifer and Hermione followed close behind.
He had brought a few heavy library texts with him, determined to analyze spatial mechanics of how the Room of Requirement functioned within the castle's grid lines.
Hermione had just one final essay to catch up on for her homework, her quill moving rapidly across the parchment. However, she stopped her hand halfway down the page and turned her face toward Lucifer.
"You know... I've been wondering since the secret meeting concluded yesterday..." She said, her amber eyes capturing his attention. "Why did you not reveal to the other houses that you can cast a Corporeal Patronus too?"
"Wait, you can cast one too?" Ron asked, his quill pausing over his inkwell in surprise.
"Ronald, you literally know this... Lucifer and I explained the entire time-turner incident to you and Harry at the end of our third year," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes.
"Oh... oh yeah..." Ron muttered, rubbing his neck sheepishly before getting right back to his messy essay.
"Hermione, do you honestly think it's impressive that someone with my background can cast a Corporeal Patronus at this point in my development? No, it's not," Lucifer explained smoothly, leaning his back against the stone bench. "What is genuinely impressive to the public is Harry being able to master the magic before even starting his Fifth Year."
"Casting a 'full' Corporeal Patronus is immensely impressive, no matter who executes the spell," Hermione insisted, her mindset refusing to back down, she would get him the credit where it was deserved.
"Not for a celestial, pet. Besides, my Patronus functions more like a sentient cosmic entity, and he doesn't like to come out on a simple whim," Lucifer said, his eyes locking onto hers to reassure her. "But I will gladly cast him during an official club meeting, whenever we get to that stage of the training. Since to the school it will technically be my 'first attempt,' people will ask a lot of questions, and I'll explain the mastery in a specific way that won't reveal we utilized... Time Travel to survive the Dementors."
Hermione wasn't wholly satisfied with his answer, but she knew his caution was reasonable, so she didn't say anything further on the topic, turning her focus back to her scroll.
xxxxxxx
When Monday morning rolled up on them, Lucifer went down into the Gryffindor Common Room quite late compared to his usual early timings. The second he descended the stone stairs, his eyes caught sight of a massive crowd gathering around the Bulletin board, a thick wave of tension vibrating through the air.
A few younger students, first or second years were standing on their tiptoes, talking frantically amongst themselves.
Lucifer walked up silently behind them, his towering height casting a shadow over their shoulders. He caught one of the boys saying.
"Does this mean they are going to permanently shut down our Gossip & Biscuits' Club?"
He quickly scanned the text of the parchment. "No," his deep voice suddenly startled them, making them jump. "No, your little harem club will be perfectly fine....."
Then focused his gaze on the fresh ink pinned to the cork:
- By Order Of -
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts
All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforthdisbanded.
An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).
No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be Expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational
Decree Number Twenty-four.
Signed
Dolores Jane Umbridge
High Inquisitor
xxxxxx
'Hermione shares a middle name with that fucking bitch? Oh... poor girl...' Lucifer thought dryly, his jaw clenching slightly. He watched as the previously disparaged first and second-years suddenly looked jubilant. 'This isn't a coincidence. She knows...'
....
Going towards the Entrance Hall of the Hogwarts castle, he noticed a wooden table was being set up near the great oak front doors where Argus Filch sat, a thick, imposing stack of blank parchments laid out directly in front of him.
"Anyone needing to register an activity should come straight here! I'll take care of it!" Filch announced loudly, a rare, grotesque hint of pride vibrating in his raspy voice. "The designated leader must write down everyone's individual names, along with the precise time and specific location of their intended activities. No student activity can legally take place inside this castle until it's been registered!"
In front of Filch's desk, a long, shuffling line of students had already started to slowly stretch all the way back to the heavy Entrance doors.
They had explicitly included Quidditch on the list of banned groups. But it was alright; everyone in the school already knew about the house teams. There was absolutely nothing to hide there; you would simply have to write the players' names down on the page. Then suddenly, as if something critical had just occurred to Lucifer, his eyebrows shot up. He realized he would have to immediately let Angelina Johnson know that this new announcement applied to the Quidditch team too.
She would need to register their weekly practice sessions as soon as possible, or she might not be able to book the pitch for training.
This new decree now gave Umbridge an explicit way to legally accuse their secret Defense club if they were ever caught. She was making it glaringly clear that anyone gathering in a group without formal Ministry registration would be breaking the rules and facing immediate expulsion. But his lips twitched into a cold smirk. 'She still has to physically catch the law violators first....'
Walking cleanly inside the Great Hall, Lucifer noticed his girlfriend's copy of 'The Daily Prophet' had already arrived at their usual spot. He reached down and glanced at the print, as he usually did to deliver the headlines.
The sprawling front page featured a moving picture of 'The Weird Sisters' alongside an announcement of their upcoming weekend performance down in Cornwall. Another minor article detailed how an eccentric wizard had intentionally enchanted an entire Muggle street so that the common grass grew ten feet tall overnight.
Finally, his eyes drifted down to the daily crossword puzzle at the bottom. The news was trivial today, no familiar pure-blood names, significant political events, and or mention of the Order members.
It suggested that broader Wizarding world was perfectly calm for now.
Lucifer casually set the paper aside, glancing up toward the staff table just in time to see Filch handing a thick, freshly signed stack of parchments to Umbridge.
That was intensely strange. She seemed to have left Filch in absolute, complete charge of the entire registration process.
Wasn't Umbridge always desperately trying to show off? She thoroughly loved flaunting her new High Inquisitor authority in front of the students and the other professors. This specific rule, where everyone had to line up submissively and sign their names on her documents, seemed like exactly the kind of tyrannical display she would enjoy overseeing personally. Why on earth leave it to the Squib caretaker? Maybe she simply thinks it's a tedious, beneath-her-station task.
Her primary goal had already been fully achieved by pinning the decree to the board. All that was left was to record the mundane names, times, and locations; it didn't really matter who did the manual labor.
Besides, there were quite a few official clubs and student organizations running at the school--what, fifty or sixty in total?
Keeping track of all of those individual files would be a real, time-consuming chore. So, Dolores Jane Umbridge had simply left most of the administrative tasks to Filch, except perhaps the more cumbersome, high-security duty of keeping track of everything behind closed doors, as she simply didn't possess the time for it between her Ministry reports.
xxxxxxx
'~Flashback~'
The mechanics of the decree had been set in motion the previous afternoon. When Umbridge had successfully overheard the small group of Gryffindors coming back from the Hogsmeade village, whispering frantically about secret clubs and hidden rosters, she hadn't wasted a single second.
Soon after, Cornelius Fudge had received an urgent, encrypted message from her desk detailing the potential conspiracy, and the Minister had been completely overjoyed inside his office.
His current, overriding political objective was crystal clear: ensure Albus Dumbledore fell from public grace before his own administration did, and completely ruin the old man's reputation beyond repair.
Fudge had never truly expected that Umbridge, whom he had essentially thrown out as a convenient political scapegoat to Hogwarts to absorb the public anger, could make such a massive, significant discovery on her very first weekend as High Inquisitor.
He didn't care a single bit about the objective truth behind the student meetings. As long as he could extract even the slightest, microscopic bit of treasonous information damaging to Dumbledore from those young wizards' mouths, he could easily turn it into ironclad, undeniable evidence of a "military coup!"
xxxxxx
"There were plenty of people at that pub... the Witch in the Veil!"
"No, not her..." Lucifer responded after hearing Harry's loud voice echo through Gryffindor's common room the moment he had stepped through the portrait hole. The raven-haired boy trailed off, a tense line cutting across his forehead, before he spat out, "The man with the head wraps." He balled his hands into tight fists, his knuckles cracking in the quiet corner. "I knew we should've met elsewhere, dammit."
"How do you know it wasn't a student?" Harry demanded, rounding on him and narrowing his eyes, noticing Lucifer still held today's fresh print of 'The Daily Prophet' clutched in his hand.
"Like Zacharias Smith or Michael Corner?" Ron joined in, already mentally mopping up the list of victims' names from the Hogsmeade meeting.
"The parchment, Hermione---" Lucifer started, but Ron had already cut him off. The ginger boy was absolutely furious, wanting nothing more than to blame the leak on Ginny's so-called new boyfriend just to break their relationship apart for good.
"We have to ask Hermione if she's seen this!" Ron more or less yelled. Without waiting for a response, he immediately bolted toward the girls' staircase. He made it up about a full eight steps before the ancient enchantments registered his intrusion, and the stone steps instantly flattened into a stony slide.
The sudden shift caused him to lose his footing and slide straight back down, landing heavily on his arse at the bottom just as two fourth-year girls came zooming down the smooth route.
"Oooh, who tried coming up the stairs?" one of them asked, giggling into her hand with her friend as they bypassed him.
"Me..." Ron muttered, his face turning as red as his hair, looking thoroughly embarrassed and disheveled. "I didn't know that would happen."
"If you had actually read 'Hogwarts: A History,' you'd know that," Lucifer sighed, slapping his palm against his forehead. This was precisely one of the primary reasons he hadn't gotten closely into the company of Harry Potter in the original timeline; he would have gotten entirely sick of the stupidity surrounding him every single day.
Hermione appeared at that exact moment at the bottom of the slide, smoothly getting to her feet and dusting off her robes. "The 'founders' thought boys were less trustworthy than girls," she said off-handedly, brushing her robes and pretending to be perfectly cool.
"If only they could've seen a thousand years into the future, they'd know that both are equally untrustworthy," Lucifer passed back at her casually, a wicked glint in his eyes as he remembered how he had plucked a mane of that very same bushy hair between his legs the other night within the heavy curtains of his bed.
Hermione instantly got flustered, a vibrant crimson rush burning up her face, and the school day was just starting. "Anyway, why were you trying to climb up?" she asked Ron, who was still rubbing his bruised hip and moaning about the pain.
"That over there," Ron grumbled, pointing a trembling finger toward newly pinned Ministry notice on the Bulletin Board.
Hermione walked up to the board and quickly read through the print, her nose snarling in immediate disgust at the fact that she and Dolores 'shared' a middle name. "Who do you think leaked it? The Veiled Witch?"
"The man with the head wraps..." Lucifer muttered, stepping up right beside her. He noticed her hair was a giant, chaotic mess from their early morning rush.
"What makes you so incredibly sure?" She asked, raising a suspicious brow and planting her hands firmly on her waist.
"I'll explain everything when we next talk to Sirius."
She stared at him with a stony, unreadable expression. "I wonder if the other houses have this trash put up in their common rooms too?"
"Chances are definitely high," Lucifer said smoothly. He reached out, gently pushing the stray, wild strands back from her forehead into her usual bird's nest, then playfully booped Hermione right on the nose.
She let out a soft scowl but didn't pull away. By now, she had even started to deeply doubt Umbridge's actual function as a professor. If reading a textbook alone could teach everything required in their course syllabus, what on earth was the point of Hogwarts paying her a salary to be here? Her presence was equivalent to a 'foul fart,' and the students would be miles better off without her.
In Hermione's completely unfiltered opinion, that pink toad only succeeded in making the third-floor classroom stink. Who knew, the woman might even secretly eat insects for breakfast. Life was incredibly hard this term, and even the 'Brightest Witch of her Age' couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh today.
Hermione had even privately wished that after facing the intense humiliation of the Giant squid incident, Umbridge would simply pick up her books and turn to leave the castle forever, or at the very least stop teaching their year. Who knew, if they were lucky, maybe the stone ceiling might collapse on her a second time.
The four fifth-years finally walked out of the Gryffindor Tower together. "So why are you so certain it can't be one of the students?" Ron asked, placing a very careful step on the landing before a moving staircase could swamp him again.
"I was about to tell you before you loudly interrupted me, Weasley," Lucifer explained dryly as they walked down the corridor. "Hermione and I jinxed the signature parchment. If anyone willingly opens their mouth to betray the group, let's just say that Eloise Midgen's severe acne will look like cute, desirable freckles. Then, I added a severe 'Compulsion Charm' to the ink; an outsider would have to be incredibly forceful to drag the info out of them... That person simply wouldn't leak it on their own accord..."
"Blimey, remind me to never get on you two's bad side again," Ron muttered, shuddering at the horrific thought of being mentally controlled or physically disfigured without even being aware of it.
The exact moment they stepped through the double doors into the Great Hall, they realized the chatter was entirely different from usual. Housemates were frantically zooming up and down the long tables, talking rapidly to one another across the aisles. When the four of them sat down, barely having lowered their bags onto the bench, Fred, George, Neville, Dean, and Ginny all scrambled over to sit tightly around them.
"Did you see the board?"
"D'you reckon she knows about the pub?"
"What the hell are we going to do now?"
"Someone definitely betrayed us."
"We're done for. Umbridge will find the list."
"Thank goodness we didn't start. Why were we caught before even our first official meeting?"
"There's a traitor among us."
The Gryffindors looked anxiously between Harry and Lucifer for immediate guidance on what their next move was going to be. It was the 'Boy Who Lived' who chose to speak first, his jaw set in a stubborn line. "We're still meeting, of course. We aren't stopping."
"Knew you'd say that, mate," George said, a massive, brilliant grin breaking across his face.
"Even the Prefects are staying in?" Fred asked, his eyes darting to the Gryffindor love-pair.
"The hell do you think, Fred?" Lucifer asked him rhetorically, a dangerous smirk on his lips.
"Just making sure," Fred chuckled, his grin widening.
"Well, we've got company rapidly approaching our position," Ron said, his eyes pointing toward the other breakfast tables.
Hermione looked instantly alarmed, her back straightening. "They can't just walk over here in a massive group, it'll look completely sus to the staff table!"
Lucifer didn't waste words. He caused the very air in the center of the Great Hall to temporarily turn thick, heavy, and intensely unwelcoming as he directed a cold, crushing glare toward the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who were attempting to cross the floorboards. They all immediately got the terrifying message, freezing in their tracks before quietly sitting back down in seats at their respective tables.
When Lucifer turned his gaze back to Harry, he had the sudden, vivid thought of the boy's past descriptions of Voldemort, how 'the Dark Lord' had no nose left, his features having morphed into a horrifying, snake-like monstrosity of a face.
Lord Voldemort had successfully returned to a full, physical body through a dark magic resurrection ritual in the graveyard of Little Hangleton last June.
Peter Pettigrew had prepared a temporary, weak, baby-like form for him using rare unicorn blood and snake's venom, then carried out a complex, three-ingredient spell after luring Harry Potter there via the rigged Triwizard Cup.
'Bone of the father, Tom Riddle Senior, unknowingly given (taken directly from his grave).
Flesh of the servant, Peter Pettigrew, willingly given (he cut off his own right hand).
'Blood of the enemy, Harry Potter, forcibly taken (drawn sharply with a sacrificial knife).'
The ritual was heavily inspired by ancient Slytherin flesh magic, and Voldemort had probably created the modified framework himself using his own extensive dark arts research. It combined standard Necromancy with highly experimental dark magic, relying on the primal alchemical concept of 'father, servant, enemy.'
By using Harry's blood, the Dark Lord had successfully bypassed Lily Potter's ancient protection spell, which was exactly why Voldemort could finally touch the boy's skin without burning. That same protection had previously burned poor Quirrell to ash when he tried to choke Harry in their first year, so Tom used the blood to permanently shatter that physical barrier.
That's why he could use the 'Cruciatus Curse' on him now, but Lucifer didn't think the magic was so simple. Magic in this realm operated like a sentient being; any kind of favor leaves a permanent impact on your soul, and every debt would eventually be repaid in full. Going by his senses, that desperate act of blood-sharing had also tied Harry's life directly to Voldemort's body.
xxxxxxx
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