Mornings at Hogwarts officially begin at 7:30. At that time, the Forbidden Forest outside the castle would echo with the cries and howls of various magical creatures.
Whether rain or shine, wind or storm, those sounds came like clockwork every morning---almost like a biological alarm for the students...
Lucifer was dragged from sleep by the call of some unknown aquatic creature.
xxxxxxx
After getting ready, he headed down to Great hall to get some breakfast to eat before class.
If recalled correctly it should be Transfiguration class first, considering who Head of Gryffindor was. If they were teaching the type of magic, she showed at Lux.
That could be interesting, but what about transforming a human into a vibrator or something... Lucifer felt like this kind of good thing, needed to be explored further.
After entering the Great hall, he spotted Hermione who seemed very excited for "same reason" albeit not exactly what he had in mind, but still she was quite. Lucifer decided to make his way over, and greet her.
"Someone is excited today, huh?" He asked while taking a piece of toast, and then sat down.
Hermione recognised this voice, it was her 'best friend', and immediately turned her head around, "Yeah, well I simply can't wait for our first class. Look at our time table---"
Today, they only had two lectures,
Transfiguration at 9 a.m with Slytherin, and Herbology at 1 p.m with RavenClaw. That was it, just a hundred minutes of class, and the rest of the day was free.
The entire week was roughly the same, two or three classes a day at most, this student life especially for Hermione was way too easy, she didn't need to worry about lodgings, laundry and food issues either.
....It was so magical, her clothes were gone in the morning, a roommate who had woken up told her it was Hogwarts facility!
More so for Lucifer, and plenty of time to pursue their own interest.
"It seems like it, but I'm a bit surprised you're not in Ravenclaw though I'm not one to talk." Lucifer decided to engage in a small talk, it was really boring around here.
After hearing that question, her brows seemed to be frowned cutely for a second, it seems like she was busy thinking, "Must be my other qualities outweighing my intellect."
Hermione said this, while looking proud of herself. 'I guess she should be'
"But, what do you mean 'you're not the one to talk?' She didn't understand this statement.
Of course, she doesn't. Lucifer obviously didn't tell her about being a suitable candidate for each house, "Are you sure, you want to know?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes, and pointed out her small fingers at him, "What's that supposed to mean? And don't try to avoid my question!" She was almost deceived by this boy.
"...." Lucifer. 'I really don't want to hurt her ego.... It's obviously the first day, and I don't want to put more effort into knowing other stupid humans... especially children...' He was just thinking about tedious things, and couldn't reply to Hermione's question.
He just went silent, making the brown-haired girl think, that he was trying to ignore her.
Hermione's lips twitched, she was really getting annoyed with this behaviour, "If you're done thinking...." She stopped mid-sentence, when saw the boy sitting beside her, just started to eat his toast again.
"...." Hermione. 'It's so infuriating, I really want to hit him!'
The other children also started coming down now, they sat down at the Gryffindor table and served themselves. As they began to eat, Rowena swooped down to them.
The owl dropped a folded newspaper on the table before Hermione, before she perched and began to drink from Lucifer's cup of water.
The boy stared at his familiar with visible disgust. "Please, tell me you brushed your beak this morning," he implored, but Rowena of course, gave Lucifer the same silent treatment he just did to Hermione, who picked up the newspaper, to calm herself down.
It was that morning's edition of The Daily Prophet, and she found that it was the lightest newspaper she'd ever seen, with just three sheets of paper when spread out at the center.
The headline on the front page read, Beloved Hero & Acclaimed Author, Gilderoy Lockhart, Awarded Order of Merlin, Third Class.
The accompanying image was a magical photograph of a handsome man with a roguish smile that exposed very white teeth.
The man in the image moved his head slightly, winked at Lucifer which caused Hermione to scowl at the foul newspaper for some reason.
"So, uh, Rowena," Lucifer said conversationally, "you mind telling us where you got the newspaper?"
Hermione blinked her eyes, at this question,"Where did she get the newspaper?" She asked him incredulously.
"I have no idea." Lucifer shrugged, unperturbed. "Knowing Rowena though, she probably murdered some poor owl and stole it off her corpse."
"Lucifer!"
"Relax, Hermione. Rowena's smart enough to wipe her tracks."
"Lucifer, Don't make me hit you!" She chastised again, but she was laughing now.
"What? It's either that or the slammer, Hermione." A dramatic pause. "And she's never going back."
Getting her laughter under control, the girl said, "they don't make jails for birds, Lucifer."
"Well, no, not yet," the boy agreed. "But with the recent rise in homicidal owls, I can assure you that there's a growing demand."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him, Rowena," she said. "I know you're a good bird. You wouldn't do anything illegal."
The owl gave her a look.
"You wouldn't, right?" She asked again, her voice suddenly less sure.
The owl went back to eating.
"You were saying?" Lucifer asked, and Hermione quietly set the paper as far away from herself as she could, and went back to her meal.
_________
"Where's your cat?"
"Probably hunting Filch's cat."
"...." Hermione. She thought it would be much better, to focus more on her omelette instead.
_______
After several minutes, they both were done with the breakfast, Lucifer opted not to point out crumbs on the girl's plate she'd left, probably a habit he thought, "So, would you like to walk with me to class? I heard corridors here move around---And, it's easy to get lost."
Hermione was slightly surprised, she'd almost forgotten about this evil which might cease her to be late, god forbid, if she was asked in standing outside the room by Professor McGonagall, "Really? I mean sure why not?"
They decided to make their way to class, there were over a hundred and forty staircases in Hogwarts, most of which had a mind of their own.
A staircase might be on second or third floor one moment, then whisk you to the top of the castle the next.
The good news? These staircases didn't move completely at random. Some shifted positions at fixed times, others reacted to how forcefully one walked---or would change if you stomped three times.
Sometimes you could even catch a shortcut straight from the first floor to your desired floor. Very efficient.
The bad news? As newcomers, Lucifer and Hermione didn't know any of this, had to figure it out by trial and error.
....To avoid being late for their first class, it was a thing waking up earlier than intended. Unfortunately, after Lucifer gave one of the steps a light kick, a staircase from the third to fourth floor suddenly whisked them all the way to top of the castle.
Huffing and puffing, they had to walk back down, each step taken with utmost care so as not to anger the unpredictable "Staircase Lords."
There were 142 staircases in Hogwarts. Some wide and spacious-roomy enough to hold a hundred wizards without issue.
Others narrow, unstable, and wobble so much they hardly look safe for walking.
Then there were the ones where a step might suddenly vanish halfway through your climb---you've got to remember where to jump.
"It's hard not to suspect these stairs were built just to mess with first-years..."
"Lucifer, stop studying that door! I don't want to be late for our first class!"
"So that's how it is... every door here has its own way of opening?"
"Not this again-why did the stairs disappear?! Hurry up, you!"
Lucifer's thoughtful expression might've been charming at any other time, but all Hermione could think about was Professor McGonagall's stern face and the frustrating stairs beneath their feet.
Annoyed, she yanked him out of his daze and pulled forward. At this point, only she could get away with doing that.
By the time they finally reached the classroom, only twenty were left to spare----Lucifer swore silently, 'One day, once I understand the layout of this castle, I'll rewrite the rules--make them even more annoying. No reason I should suffer alone....'
With that vow in mind, he and Hermione stepped into the classroom. It was large, only a few students inside, and set up like a lecture hall, with seating for three arranged on steps that climbed over six levels at the very back.
....Lucifer went up the steps and sat down at desk closest to window and watched the clouds moving in sky, leaving Hermione wide-open.
Instead of sitting at front desk, she went over to sit with her "friend."
"Looks like Prof. McGonagall isn't here yet," She mused out loud, wondering where the professor was, seeing as older woman had left The Great Hall several minutes before they had. Maybe she had some other engagement to attend to.
"Maybe she had to go number two." Lucifer shrugged.
"Lucifer! That's disgusting."
"Uh, no, it's a natural, biological process, and it would be really weird if she didn't do it."
"Well, we're not talking about our professor's... processes, okay?" The infuriating boy just laughed at her.
Time passed, and Hermione started preparing for the upcoming class, setting out her quills, an inkpot, and some parchment to take notes on.
At her behest for him to do the same, Lucifer fished in his bag and pulled out a muggle notebook and pen.
She gave him a sour look, the innocent expression on his face not fooling her for one second, "Must you cause trouble with everything?" Her voice darn near exasperated.
"I'm pretty sure I have no idea what you're talking about," He replied.
Hermione Granger, being the bigger person, gracefully ignored his response, and immediately leaned over to inquire about health. "So, how do you like Gryffindor so far?"
"Hmm? It's fine. Everyone's been pretty welcoming."
"Really? Huh. So our house is different, according to books, pure are supposed to be hostile toward Muggle-borns and half-bloods..."
"Is that so? I haven't noticed. My roommates were all very... friendly."
"Well, alright then." Hermione dropped the subject and patted her textbook proudly, "I finished reading this for the third time last night. How about you?"
At this point, a girl sitting between a few tables on the right from Lucifer couldn't hold back, "If magic could be learned just by reading books, don't you think Muggles would've taken over the wizarding world by now?"
Hermione's eyes narrowed at the hostility, she loomed over her friend's face to look at the student who interjected in between, that girl had golden curls with long lashes, and big blinking eyes, there was an air of noble elegance around her, green colour of her robes entered the sight.
Sensing the hostility in her tone, she didn't hold back either, "Since I do have magical talent, reading helps me learn faster. Or are you Greengrass, suggesting you pure-bloods can just lie around and absorb magic through osmosis?"
"At least we're not as desperate as you. Magic has been part of our lives since birth----it's second nature to us. You... you're just a country bumpkin."
That last jab was muttered under her breath, barely audible---afraid, it would make her batchmates think less of her for chatting with a "Mudblood."
To Lucifer's surprise, Daphne was surprisingly good at quarreling nothing like the innocent rich girl she appeared to be. Their back-and-forth was sharp and relentless, no room given.
....Sitting between them in a way, he remained expressionless. But felt like both his ears were under attack. For Lucifer's way of interpretation, girls were trying to make their own faces look "bigger"
Then moments later, a tabby cat trotted in, and the door closed behind. The cat climbed Prof. McGonagall's desk,
"It's 8:50," he suddenly announced.
Hermione froze, realizing class would start any moment. The professor could arrive any second. With a huff, she turned away, refusing to engage further.
....Daphne Greengrass also turned her head, no longer looking at this foolish witch irritating her, and began to pay attention at the desk's, laying her textbooks on for light reading.
Now both of their eyes buried reading lines of wand movements, Lucifer finding it outrageous, and useless as he'd read most, stared at the markings which were darker around the eyes of that tabby cat than anywhere else.
It was perching there silently, watching the chattering students with steady eyes, far too calm.
The structure.... The fur...This was...
Everything---from the spine, to muscles, to retractable claws was exactly like a regular cat's.
Who would suspect such a cute little tabby? He said after a moment, when finding it totally sure of it, "Good morning, Professor."
Hermione didn't waste a second in scolding him for his utter stupidity, due to her previous argument she was boiling at the verge of exploding, "Don't be an idiot! That's just a cat, or far throwing the arrow, her pet."
She was very stern, and vented her pent-up frustrations.
Suddenly, that cat jumped off table and transformed into Professor McGonagall causing her to loudly gasp, and then covering mouth with her two palms, "Very impressive Mr. Morningstar, 5 points to Gryffindor. May I ask how you know?"
"....I read about Animagus, where a witch or wizard could transform into an animal then back at will."
McGonagall, wanted to know, what gave her away, "Yes but that doesn't explain how you knew I was one?"
Lucifer said with a cheeky grin, "Who knows?" When her expression turned curt, he gave away a simple clue, "If I hadn't caught your scent, I'd have mistaken you for an ordinary cat."
Hermione's temper was just about to explode, because it's not the first time, he did something like this. So, she loudly huffed again for a good measure to show her displeasure.
"One more thing," McGonagall said, her sternness unyielding, "Do I...have a strong scent?"
"No, Professor. But I have a heightened sense of smell that lets me pick up what others miss."
Her expression softened even more, and she turned her gaze to the bushy haired girl who sat frozen, barely managing a stiff nod.
"Very well, I'll forgive you this once, but next time, Mr. Morningstar, curiosity doesn't excuse getting 'handsy' with your professors. I felt your stare too deep."
"Yes, Professor," Lucifer replied obediently. McGonagall went back to remain at the lectern, she gave a hard gaze at students present nearby, there were hardly more than five, warning them, and transforming back into a cat only to surreptitiously cast a few "Scourgify" spells on herself.
Soon more and more students started coming as the clock went near to reach 9'o clock but what they realised was how late Harry and Ron were. Finally they came but, what they didn't know was Professor McGonagall who transformed into the cat once again.
"Whew, we made it. Can you imagine the look on Mcgonagall's face if we were late?" This was Ron's voice, who was busy scolding his rat last night.
Harry doubled over, hands on his knees grinning with relief, he and Ron quickly moving towards the empty seat behind the other two Gryffindor's.
"Bloody cursed staircases," Ron muttered between gasps, his face was drenched with sweat, but he smiled a bit since McGonagall hadn't arrived, "We're not late but the professor is! If I'd known that, I wouldn't have sprinted up half the castle---I can barely breathe!"
He didn't bother lowering his voice. Even though he and Harry were standing at desks in the middle, his words carried easily to the front.
Lucifer turned his head, gazing at Ron with a look one might give a man walking toward a guillotine. 'He is one brave soul---provoking a professor on the very first lesson.'
"Bold and fearless... and apparently pretty stubborn, too. Classic Gryffindor."
"You make it sound like you think all Gryffindors are brave but brainless."
"Hmm... So you are thinking things through after all."
"..."
Hermione, fuming, had already pulled out her wand. Seeing that, he dropped the topic entirely. Since she clearly didn't care, Lucifer saw no reason to press it either...
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen."
At that moment, the tabby cat leapt forward---and mid air transformed into Professor McGonagall, the class collectively jumped in shock except a few who'd already witnessed.
"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron's jaw dropped even gave the teacher a compliment, but realising his face turned pale.
But Minvera wasn't fooled by this sweet-talk. She had already been tolerating Albus's poisonous talk for many years now.
"Well, thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall, said glaring slightly at the two late boys, "Perhaps it would be more useful if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter and yourself into a pocket watch. That way, one of you might be on time."
"We got lost," Harry tried to defend them, but McGonagall really wasn't having it today. This incident already brought her a headache, of those old days. (being courted by Dumbledore?)
"Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats."
The two took their seats right behind Hermione and Lucifer, which was an obvious choice, whereas Professional McGonagall swept her sharp gaze over the entire class.
"I'm pleased to see no one is late for our first lesson. I do hope you maintain this level of punctuality. I, for one, am 'never' late."
"Oh no... she heard me."
Ron whimpered like a dying mosquito, his dreams of Hogwarts glory crumbling.
Harry, without a word, quietly shuffled his chair just a little further away from his newly acquired best mate.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts."
"Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned. For your first lesson, we'll start with---"
Lucifer raised a hand, and Professor's eyes practically homed in on him.
"Yes, Mr. Morningstar?"
"Sorry for interrupting, professor, but I'm really curious and there's very little information about this in the books I bought from Diagon Alley. Anyway, your animagus form, does it affect your human one at all? Like, does the fact... that you're a 'cat' animagus make you like fish more, or have a better sense of balance or something?"
Prof. McGonagall eyed the boy. "And what brought on this interest in animagic, Mr. Morningstar? You wouldn't be planning to attempt it, would you?"
"No, I am too young for that, Professor," Lucifer said without missing a beat, "My interest is purely academic." for now.
Hermione decided then and there that Prof. McGonagall must be a very smart woman, because she didn't look like she believed him at all.
She was willing to play along however, because McGonagall began an impromptu lecture, speaking to the entire class instead of just Lucifer, "Animagic is one of the most advanced forms of Transfiguration. Also one of the most dangerous."
She shot Lucifer a warning look who smiled placidly in return, "Even the tiniest mistake can leave you permanently trapped in a form that is half-beast and half-human, and it is very easy to make a mistake...."
"Do not 'attempt' it on your own, even if you learn how; not only do you risk permanent disfigurement, being an unlicensed animagus is a crime punishable by time in Azkaban. Am I clear?"
Everyone, Hermione and Lucifer included, replied with an obedient---
"Yes, professor."
"You can suffer mental confusion of thinking you really are an animal."
She warned. It was only after every student sat up straight, and gave her their full attention that she nodded slightly of approval. Then, just as quickly, she offered a sweet reward.
She demonstrated the true wonder of Transfiguration. With a light tap of her wand on the lectern, sturdy wooden desk instantly transformed into a plump, snow-white pig, round and adorably clumsy.
The next sequence of transformations drew gasps and squeals from the young witches and wizards.
The pig morphed into a lion, its majestic roar shaking the classroom. A moment later, it twisted and stretched into an enormous serpent.
The snake's cold, glinting eyes scanned the room, causing a wave of unease to sweep through the students. Those in the front row turned pale and stumbled over each other trying to retreat.
Even the Slytherin students didn't handle it much better. Sure, their house animal was a serpent, but that didn't mean they all liked snakes.
Lucifer caught a flicker of amusement in her eyes, though her face remained composed. 'So, even you, Professor McGonagall, with your thick eyebrows and solemn face... you're hiding a mischievous side, huh?'
'Bang!'
A sharp crack echoed as the snake vanished and long desk reappeared. The classroom slowly calmed down.
"Now for today's lesson, you all will be attempting one of the simplest transfiguration spells available, a spell that was invented by our very own Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, back when he taught Transfiguration here at Hogwarts. Before that however, it is important that you learn the basics of 'The Art of Transfiguration' itself, as well as some rules to this branch of magic..."
And with that Prof. McGonagall launched into her lecture. It was a long lecture; lasted over an hour, and Hermione did her best to keep up with her note taking.
But despite the hours of practice she had put into learning to use a quill (practice that showed, considering she was the best with a quill in the class among all those who hadn't grown up in the Magical World), the constant dipping, and the need to write softly, and the rare, but too frequent, accidental inkblots were starting to grate on her.
Lucifer offered her a spare pen.
The clear superiority in his expression was galling, but the smile he gave her when she took the pen and muttered "thanks" wasn't.
"You're welcome," he said.
Prof. McGonagall talked about many things. About how powerful, and wondrous and dangerous The Art of Transfiguration could be, and how much like developing a physical skill, one could build 'muscle memory' for magic too.
And that was why spells like the one they would be learning today were important to start their education with because they took little skill to cast, and the repercussions, in the event of failure, were much less dangerous for other spells.
Some of it were things Hermione had gleaned from her personal study, but there was much more that she hadn't known, and from the lecture, Hermione suspected that Prof. McGonagall was only just scraping the surface.
Eventually, the lecture wound down, and Prof. McGonagall asked if anyone had questions.
There were a few, but Hermione and Lucifer had none, and soon the class moved to the practical aspect.
Like most basic Transfiguration spells, the spell they were learning today had no official name; it was simply called the Matchstick to Needle Transfiguration spell, and was one of the many like it that had been invented by the Headmaster.
She handed each student a matchstick, task already given.
"When casting, visualise the silver needle clearly in your mind. Your mental image must be vivid and precise. Focus entirely---no distractions. Convince yourself that matchstick is the silver needle."
"You must align your mental vision with the physical world."
Her voice was ringing clearly.
"..."
After explaining the key points, she allowed the students to practice freely. Soon, the classroom was filled with whispered incantations.
Professor McGonagall wandered between the desks, observing everyone's progress. Most of the matchsticks remained wooden and unchanged. Still, she didn't seem angry.
After all, transfiguring a matchstick into a silver needle wasn't just basic magic. While the transformation appeared small, it involved not only a change in form but also a shift in material-wood to metal. That was already beyond the first-year level.
But McGonagall wasn't unaware of this. Her choice of lesson was deliberate---an early test.
It was difficult enough to challenge, but not impossible. A clever way to spot the students with real potential, the ones she could give extra attention to later on.
She sighed softly. She'd already observed half the class, and not a single performance had met her expectations.
Until she arrived behind Lucifer Morningstar. With a smooth motion, he traced a circle in the air with his wand, then gently tapped the toothpick. Right before her eyes, it shimmered and shifted into a silver needle -sleek, polished, and gleaming.
But that wasn't what stunned her.
This needle wasn't just any needle. Its surface bore intricate patterns-fine, detailed engravings so delicate and precise that it could be mistaken for a work of art.
"Excellent!"
McGonagall's voice rang out loud and clear: "Mr. Morningstar has successfully performed a perfect Transfiguration on his first try-and with ornate embellishments, no less! Five points to Gryffindor'!"
She said with a rare smile.
The Gryffindor students didn't react much. They were all new here, and the old rivalry between houses hadn't sunk in yet.
The Slytherins, however, went quiet. Malfoy, especially, looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. His pure-blood pride was wounded---he hadn't succeeded, but a Muggle-born had?
Lucifer hadn't really cared about earning points... on the other hand, a certain brown haired girl gave him a look of jealousy. What? House points, he didn't give a damn...
"How did you even do that?" Hermione leaned in as soon as McGonagall had walked off, her tone a little sharp, tinged with envy.
Her toothpick hadn't changed at all. Not even a shimmer. And that stung.
Back in the Muggle world, whenever she competed, she was the top scorer in her school. But now, in the magical world---where as both muggle-borns they were supposed to be on even footing---gap was----
It felt like she was still standing at the starting line, while Lucifer was already waiting at the next stop.
"The more pressure you put on yourself, the lower your chances of success, honestly...." Lucifer didn't mind offering a little guidance, "Don't treat spellcasting like a machine process.... Every cast is a reflection of your magic, your talent. Relax your mind first, hmm... how say..."
He thought for words to be said which conveyed easily in understanding, "Imagine you're the master of this matchstick. It does what you say. Everything it becomes---it's because you command it."
Nearby, Daphne Greengrass overheard him. She took a deep breath, raised her wand, and mimicked the path McGonagall had demonstrated---only this time, she moved with a natural, fluid rhythm instead of a stiff, robotic motion.
A flash of silver flickered over the matchstick. It transformed into... a silver matchstick. Not quite a needle---but honestly, the shape wasn't that different.
If it couldn't thread a string, at least it looked the part. Even so, Daphne lit up like it was Christmas, "I did it...."
Her successful attempt earned Slytherin another two points.
Still, it was more than enough to frustrate Hermione. With her pride on the line, she stopped talking to her deskmate Lucifer entirely and plunged back into practice, jaw set and brows furrowed.
By more than the middle past of the lesson, Hermione finally managed to make her toothpick shimmer.
It turned into a shiny silver needle... though it still felt wooden to the touch. Professor McGonagall was nonetheless delighted and awarded Gryffindor two points. She praised her wand movements, then reminded the pair not to slack off, and then moved on to observe the other students.
Ronald Weasley, who was sitting behind them with Harry, craned his head to look at their work. "You got it already? Great," he muttered petulantly, then proceeded to attempt to transfigure his matchstick by poking it as hard as he could with his wand.
Hermione was about to tell him he was doing it wrong, when a small explosion erupted farther back in the classroom, and Prof. McGonagall rushed over to see what had gone wrong.
By the time she looked back at their own table, Lucifer had apparently begun some kind of impromptu art project.
"What are you doing?" She asked, watching as he transfigured another matchstick and used the sticking charm to attach it to her needle.
Hermione almost screamed a horrified squeak, what in the favour of God was he doing to her needle?
"Making a spider," Lucifer said and pushed his notebook toward her, where she saw a very rough drawing of a large spider.
Something about the way he said, unsettled her. She wanted to tell him to stop. That he definitely should not be doing this in Prof. McGonagall's class, but instead, she made a new, better drawing on the opposite page.
"You missed a few things," she said. "Spiders only have two body parts; a cephalothorax and an abdomen, and their legs are more spread out. Which species were you planning to make?"
They quickly fell into a rhythm, with him easily turning matchsticks to needles, and Hermione directing where to stick them together.
Slowly the arachnid came into shape. First with the cephalothorax, then the abdomen, all of it a hollow network of needles that was literally held together by magic.
They used beads for eyes, beads they transfigured from small balls of paper (another of the beginner transfiguration spells), and by the end, Hermione had to admit that, while not a masterpiece by any means, their sculpture was quite beautiful in a weird, silly way.
And then she looked up and saw Prof. McGonagall watching them. 'Shit'
"Practicing the spell, I see," the woman observed.
"Yup," Lucifer said, perfectly unbothered. "And we figured, 'why not make it interesting?'"
"I see," Professor said, as Hermione began to panic a little.
'Prof. McGonagall is definitely going to take points?!' Because they were distracted in her class, and she would have lost Gryffindor points.
"If you can animate it, I'll give you both ten points to Gryffindor," Prof. McGonagall waited a beat.
"Each."
Hermione blinked, then she and Lucifer stared at each other.
"Wait, when you say animate, do you mean-"
"A basic animation spell will suffice, Mr. Morningstar," Prof. McGonagall assured, "No need to risk anything advanced."
Hermione and Lucifer stared at each other again, "There is that Year two animation spell," He suggested.
"Augurs' Animation spell," Hermione agreed, "Animates any object in the likeness of an animal to be that animal, without transmuting any of its material aspects."
Lucifer nodded.
"You should cast it," she said. "You're more likely to get it on the first try."
"I've seen your spellwork, Granger. You should do it."
"But you can cast spells I never even think of!" Hermione argued back.
"Together then," the boy sighed.
They readied their wands. Performed wand-motion, two quick flicks, carefully, then incanted, "animato."
Nothing happened, and disappointment Hermione felt was much more than she'd thought she would feel. Then spider twitched. Once. Twice. Then it skittered forward, its pointy, metallic legs making rapid clicking sounds on the table.
Ron moaned piteously behind her. "Did it have to be a spider?" He asked.
Hermione turned, and noticed that he and Harry, as well most of the class were watching.
With a few flicks of her wand, Prof. McGonagall conjured a big, glass box around the spider, which the creature kept bumping into walls of.
"Looks like our spider's lacking in the brain department," Lucifer observed.
"As promised, Mr. Morningstar, Miss Granger. Ten points each to Gryffindor."
The Gryffindors cheered. The Slytherins scowled, and some even muttered about favoritism.
...And while the look of pride Prof. McGonagall gave, pleased her greatly, for some reason, it was Hermione's cute smile that stuck to her mind the most.
She wanted to see that smile again.
'Bang-!'
Another loud explosion suddenly rang out in classroom, it was even bigger than the previous one, startling McGonagall so badly she nearly dropped her wand.
This was Transfiguration class-not 'Defense Against the Dark Arts.' Who the devil had caused an explosion?
She quickly spotted the culprits: Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom.
The two boys stared at each other, hair frizzed and standing on end like they'd been struck by lightning. Their toothpicks were now smoking chunks of charcoal.
McGonagall's face darkened to the same shade.
Glaring furiously, she deducted two points from Gryffindor and declared the class dismissed.
Hogwarts truly was full of talent. Not only had they birthed someone like Lucifer---a human nuclear core-but also someone who seemed to specialize in 'explosion-style' jutsu.
Utterly terrifying.
__________
Lucifer had entered Hogwarts' true treasure trove: the library. This was where you could unearth the most powerful spells, laying foundation for your meteoric rise post-graduation.
And he wasn't alone. Many others had drawn strength here. What professors taught was enough to graduate---but if you wanted something more, something special, you had to dig for it yourself. That's how witches and wizards of similar talent ended up with wildly different results.
Some reached their full potential. Others wasted it.
Madam Pince, the librarian, had eyes like a hawk and a perpetual look of suspicion. Anyone who dared speak too loudly or mistreat a book instantly received a death glare that could petrify trolls.
Hermione quietly buried herself in 'Beginner's Guide to Advanced Transfiguration Mechanics.' Lucifer, on the other hand, sat across from her and stacked three books in front of him, immediately attracting Madam Pince's attention.
But he didn't care, and flipped through a few pages of each book, noted whether they were worth keeping, and then returned them.
Then he pulled out another. Then another. By the thirteenth book, Madam Pince had had enough.
She marched over, feather duster in hand, and lowered her voice like she was interrogating a thief. "Child, what exactly are you 'looking' for?"
Lucifer blinked, feigning innocence, didn't commit any crime now did he folks, "Isn't that the point? I 'don't' know what I'm looking for... That's why I have to check each book. Is there a problem?"
Madam Pince inhaled sharply.
"No problem. Just don't disturb the others."
"Thank you. I understand." Lucifer nodded politely, then went right back to flipping. He wasn't being loud. He wasn't damaging any books. If anyone around him felt "disturbed," maybe they didn't belong in the library at all---they should try a broom closet instead. Much quieter.
As for Madam Pince's displeasure? He didn't give a damn.
Lucifer strongly suspected she was a Squib, just like Filch. From what he heard in the lavatory, she'd never been seen using a single spell in all her years. Just now, he hadn't noticed any sign of her carrying a wand, either.
'Putting a Squib in charge of Hogwarts' most magical collection of knowledge? Dumbledore wouldn't really play a risky game, right?' By noon, he and Hermione left the library on the dot.
"What were you looking for?" She finally asked, unable to hold in her curiosity, not stopping legs as she moved towards the Great Hall.
"I wasn't looking for anything in particular," Lucifer replied casually. "I just want to get a general sense of what each book contains. Makes it easier to find them later..."
Hermione's eyes lit up. That actually was a smart idea. She made a mental note to try it herself later that afternoon.
xxxxxx
After lunch, Lucifer even returned to the dormitory for a refreshing nap, which made his friend's eyes twitch for being so carefree--- before heading to the greenhouse for Herbology class.
Professor Sprout, who taught Herbology, was a kind-hearted middle-aged witch. She had a plump figure, a constant smile on her face, and a demeanor that made her seem perpetually good-natured.
She called the young wizards to line up neatly, warning them not to touch any of the nearby magical plants without permission. Only once everyone had arrived did she lead the class into Greenhouse One.
First-years weren't allowed near magical plants with powerful properties. Most of what they saw in Greenhouse One were docile fungi and common herbs.
Their assignment for the entire year was to memorize the characteristics and effects of these plants-and to learn how to nurture and care for them properly.
Lucifer, and Hermione after correctly answering several questions in a row, earned Gryffindor five house points.
---To be honest, the three Heads of House at Hogwarts were generally fair-minded. Though they all hoped for excellence in their own Houses, they didn't stoop to suppressing others, maintaining true impartiality in their roles.
But then... there was Snape. A grumpy, bitter old-'ahem'-well, never mind.
xxxxxx