Chapter 13 - Chapter 13 - Bribery with Cakes

After a satisfying meal, he parted ways with the trio of food lovers. Lucifer watched them return to the castle, then turned back and ventured deeper into the Forbidden Forest.

The feast had delayed him, so he cast a 'Feather-Light' Charm on himself to move swiftly. By now, the outer forest was so familiar to him it may as well have been the back of his hand-paths and wildlife patterns were etched clearly in his memory.

He began by visiting the territory of the Mooncalves, collecting some of their dung for potion ingredients, and tossed them a bit of food. Then he swung by the habitat of the Treefrogs and scooped up a cluster of amphibian eggs.

Lastly, he located a family of porcupines, stunned the entire group, and plucked a generous handful of quills from their bristly backs.

Honestly, Lucifer was beginning to think that being a wizard wasn't so different from cultivating immortality in those Muggle fantasy novels.

---Wizards relied on potions much the way cultivators used elixirs and spirit stones: to grow stronger, survive danger, and speed up their progress.

Fortunately, he was now in cahoots with Potions Master---possibly one with intentions of taking "him" on as both his first and last apprentice.

----The man never held back knowledge, which allowed Lucifer's potion skills to grow at an extraordinary pace, even handing over his compiled notes from 'five years ago.'

Otherwise, if Lucifer had to rely on buying these ingredients, assuming he could even---find a vendor who stocked them, the quality and potency would be a huge gamble.

After ransacking the outskirts, he pushed deeper into the forest.

There wasn't an official line dividing the outer woods from the inner depths, but judging by how air changed provided a clear signal.

He was hoping for a competent DADA professor to show up next year, instead of some kind of fossil, who couldn't even speak properly, but could curse Harry beautifully.

----Chunks of modern magical theory. Take Apparition and Disapparition, for example---essential tools in any wizard's arsenal. They were invented during the post-Medieval Witch Hunts. To them, Lucifer figured, today's wizards and witches were the magical equivalent of flying cars.

He'd tried learning them, but currently being under the process of turning human to celestial, made the spells... awkward. So he didn't dare for now, Lucifer couldn't confidently perform it without damaging his very soul's purity itself.

If the next Darks Arts teacher was another ancient useless duty relic, he might as well reverse the learning staff and teach them instead.

Achoo!

In his private quarters, where Quirrell was planning another try to break through the third floor, he also had been idly flipping through 'The Daily Prophet', he sneezed violently for no apparent reason.

Entering the deeper woods, Lucifer slowed down. It wasn't just to map the terrain-caution was crucial here.

Some magical creatures weren't dangerous individually, but in swarms they became death incarnate.

Take Acromantulas: a single adult was nothing a skilled wizard couldn't handle, but a full nest? You might as well dig your own grave.

Lucifer's goal was to find a lone Acromantula, take it down, and get out before the rest showed up. If he was unlucky enough to stumble upon a full colony... well, then it'd be time to channel his inner god and consider species-level genocide.

After a short walk, he spotted a large patch of wild nettles in the damp undergrowth. Their leaves bore gnawed edges---clear evidence that magical creatures had been feeding here.

Sure enough, he soon discovered a hollow tree housing a full nest of Horklumps.

His face lit up.

Horklumps were key ingredients in Enhancer Elixirs, a type of potion that temporarily boosted physical stats. In duels or emergency situations, drinking one could greatly increase a wizard's speed and strength.

Agility was already a given. After all, "Pikachu, dodge!" had become a pop culture staple for a reason. But strength?

That was where wizards fell short. When spells weren't enough to end a fight, sometimes a well---placed punch was, he could give one to Hermione.

Magical dueling had its budget options-standard spell-slinging. But the high-end version? That was a pharmaceutical arms race: downing seven or eight potions for buffs and maybe even a Felix Felicis to top it off.

With that kind of prep, even a student might beat an Auror.

One Stunning Spell later, the nest fell silent. Lucifer picked through the fallen Horklumps and selected about twenty-half the nest-with a perfect 1:1 male-to-female ratio. The rest he left behind to repopulate the stock.

He also harvested the nettles before moving on. Suddenly, a low, guttural bellow echoed from the northwest. It sounded bovine---like a water buffalo-but fiercer, more aggressive.

Lucifer followed the noise and soon reached a small sunken glade, where he found the source.

A massive creature with golden fur was devouring a half-eaten goat carcass.

"A Re'em?" he whispered, eyes going wide.

Shock and joy washed over him in equal measure. Re'ems were native to North America---what on earth was one doing in the Forbidden Forest?

They were exceptionally rare-ranked 4X on the magical creature danger scale-and even rarer than dragons.

----Whenever one appeared, it triggered a feeding frenzy among magical poachers.

Re'em blood granted incredible strength. It was so potent that the global wizarding governments had long since banned hunting them. But profit spoke louder than law. On the black market, Re'em blood fetched absurd prices-and it always sold out instantly.

Lucifer didn't hesitate.

He leapt from cover. The Re'em halted its meal and whipped around. Its horns dipped threateningly as it stomped the ground with its front hooves. He raised his arms and bounced on his feet, emitting a strange, rhythmic cry.

It was a challenge---one that magical beasts understood instinctively.

The Re'em roared in return, golden light flaring even brighter across its body.

Lucifer flung a mild 'Blasting Curse' to signal the start of the duel. It struck the beast's back... and vanished harmlessly into its thick fur.

He wasn't surprised.

That gleaming coat wasn't just for show-creatures evolved for survival, not fashion. And the Re'em's shimmering hide was incredibly tough---It made the skin of a three-headed dog look like tissue paper.

Lucifer's plan was simple: not just to collect its blood, but also to snag a few tufts of fur---ideal material for crafting wizarding "bulletproof" robes.

"Gotta be careful..."

He wasn't wrong. That duel with Burke didn't count for much. That was just beating up kids, not real combat.

A full-grown Re'em, on the other hand, could give even Aurors a run for their Galleons. It usually took a team to bring one down..!

He was curious to see how his strength measured up now that he'd ingested so many potions and practiced relentlessly----

It was hard to tell on his own, if Lucifer had grown stronger or just louder----eyes never leaving the beast.

And then the real duel began.

Lucifer grew serious.

The classification of magical creatures as XXXX or XXXXX didn't strictly reflect their strength--it was a rating of their 'danger' to 'humans', as well as their hostility.

Even Dumbledore's phoenix was only rated XXXX. Who'd dare say Fawkes was weak? The bird had lifted one entire planet to a different solar system, once it's sun collapsed.

Re'em had already lowered its head and charged, each thundering hoofstep causing the earth to tremble. It was like a living freight train barreling forward at full speed----

With a flick of his wand, Lucifer cast downward, chanting fast. A shimmering trail of ice shot out beneath his feet---so polished it gleamed like a mirror.

The sudden change in terrain caught the Re'em completely off guard. It slipped, legs flying out from under it, and crashed to the ground with a resounding BOOM!

The thin layer of ice cracked and shattered under creature's weight, shaking the earth violently.

Lucifer didn't waste a second.

"Ice Chains."

The shattered shards reformed into sturdy chains of glimmering ice that snaked toward the Re'em, binding its powerful limbs before it could rise.

In these frigid woods, ice magic was not only efficient and resourceful---it was devastating.

"Shock Pulse."

"Stupefy."

"Split Coordination."

The Re'em was now a sitting target. Each of Lucifer's spells zeroed in on its massive head---not to kill, but to overwhelm and knock it unconscious.

All he needed was some blood and hair. 'There was no need for a corpse.'

The beast's radiant coat glowed with increasing intensity, each wave of light dispersing Lucifer's spells---but even that had limits. The creature's attempts to rise were thwarted again and again.

That last spell---Split Coordination-left its limbs flailing in disarray. It couldn't even decide which leg to move first.

Defensive abilities weren't infinite. They burned through stamina and magical reserves just like anything else. After a dozen direct hits, the Re'em's glow had dulled.

Its movements grew sluggish.

Its resistance, weaker by the second.

Lucifer, was grinning ear to ear. His fighting style was... sly. No flashy duels. No head-on collisions.

He manipulated the battlefield, set traps, and used environment to break his enemy down piece by piece.

This dumb beast hadn't even gotten a proper hit in-it had been neutralized before it ever got to fight.

But no one was going to scold him for using "underhanded tactics."

Quite the opposite. This was how you fight when your life was on the line. Not like a brute, but with brains. With magic...

Just as he was admiring the scene, Lucifer's' smile vanished. 'Watch out. Something's coming...' He immediately paused, ears perked.

Through the groaning breaths of the weakened Re'em, he heard it-rapid, rhythmic hoofbeats approaching from the northwest. And they were closing fast.

"No time to waste!" Lucifer's attacks ramped up in intensity. He had to finish this now, before the new threat arrived----

"Stop!" A shout rang from above.

Lucifer, of course didn't stop. In fact, he raised his wand higher. The ice around him twisted and surged, forming a massive warhammer-solid and gleaming like wrought iron.

Gripping the haft tightly, he brought it down with thunderous force.

"Go to sleep!"

'BOOM!'

'SWISH!

WHINNY!'

An arrow whistled past, barely a meter from Lucifer's head, who tilted from the position in the nick of time, his inhumane super speed ability coming back forth in fury!

----But the hammer struck true, slamming into the Re'em's skull. The golden beast let out a low groan and finally slumped over, motionless.

Lucifer's expression turned cold. Satisfied the Re'em wouldn't be waking up anytime soon, he turned toward the direction the arrow had come from----

There stood a centaur-bow still drawn, muscular human torso bare and tensed, another arrow already nocked. The last one had been a warning shot, but this one?

This one was aimed directly at 'him.'

His instincts had already warned him the arrow wasn't meant to hit---but that didn't mean Lucifer wasn't furious----A centaur. With a bow. Pointed at him!

Lucifer Morningstar! Absolutely unacceptable.

"Drop your wand, poacher!" the centaur barked, pulling bowstring tighter.

Lucifer's eyes glowed red, narrowed sharply, and blue hell-flame danced to life in his palm, casting a magical glow across his features----

"Open those horse eyes and take a real look," Lucifer snapped. "You see these red glow? This ring, you are aiming at the Ruler of Hell!' I am Lucifer bloody Morningstar. This is a Gryffindor' robe!"

The centaur didn't budge. "That could be a disguise, why would the Archangel be here? If you're not a poacher, why attack a Re'em?"

Lucifer's temper flared, "And what business is it of yours what I do? Since when do I need a centaur's permission to be in the Forbidden Forest? Know your place...!'And you-you-think you can aim a weapon at me and 'live to talk' about it?"

The centaur ignored the demand, scanning the treeline, ensuring no other wizards were nearby.

"I don't care who you say you are. Step away from the Re'em and come with me. Once I confirm you're a real student, I'll escort you back to the castle."

Lucifer's patience snapped, "Guess you don't speak human," he muttered, raising his wand.

"Thunderclap." Storm clouds burst into existence above the centaur's head. Lightning cracked the sky, bolts raining down with violent fury.

The centaur's eyes widened in panic. He loosed his arrow in desperation and galloped to avoid the strikes.

But outrunning lightning? Not a chance.

'CRACK!

ZAP!'

BZZT!

The centaur was struck multiple times, his body spasming as he collapsed to the forest floor.

Lucifer didn't move. The warhammer had shifted, transforming mid---air into a sturdy shield that effortlessly deflected the centaur's arrow.

Then he charged. All those strength---enhancing potions he'd taken earlier? Now they kicked into full gear. In mere seconds, he crossed the distance-like a sprinting champion fueled by rage--and now towered over the twitching body of the fallen centaur.

Lucifer looked down, voice dangerously low, "Which hand did you use to shoot that arrow?"

He cracked his knuckles.

xxxxxx

Though his limbs had gone weak, the centaur's mouth was still stubbornly loud.

"You 'despicable wizard'! You dare ambush me? My kin are on their way---they won't let you off so easily!" he shouted at Lucifer.

And for once, he wasn't bluffing--Lucifer could already hear the thunderous gallop of hooves in the distance. The sound was dense and urgent. Reinforcements, no doubt.

"I just love your type," he said coldly. "Pathetically weak, and yet still have the nerve to 'make threats."

He narrowed his eyes. "I remember now---you draw your bow with the left hand, shoot with the right. Lucky for you, I'm on vacation from hell, so I'll just take 'one arm'."

A chill surged from the centaur's spine straight to his soul. "You can't possibly mean-AH!"

He didn't even get to finish. Lucifer had already cast his spell. A blade of razor---sharp wind sliced clean through the air and sheared the centaur's right arm off at the shoulder.

The centaur's scream was piercing, his body writhing violently as he tried to dull the pain. Lucifer, meanwhile, didn't so much as blink.

Centaurs weren't like Re'em-no natural magic resistance. A single curse was enough to end them. Lucifer didn't think he was being cruel. The centaur refused to listen to reason and even tried to detain, worse didn't recognise 'him'. At that point, there was no use talking anymore.

Lucifer truly didn't understand---why did a fringe species living deep in the Forbidden Forest think they had the right to "administer justice" on wizards, worse, a celestial?

---Maybe it was the scream that did it, but the hoofbeats drew closer-faster, heavier. Within moments, a wave of centaurs surged through the snowy trees, bows in hand and fury in their eyes.

"ORION!"

Several centaurs at the front caught sight of their fallen kin, who was now drenched in blood and writhing in agony. Their eyes turned red with rage, and bows were immediately raised.

"Stand down!" a commanding voice rang out-a red-haired centaur, thickly muscled and clearly the leader, barked orders. "Do not shoot! That foal is from the castle!"

Lucifer was no fool---he wasn't about to put his "school life" in the hands of a uniform. As the herd approached, he had already stepped back several paces and conjured a rotating array of iron shields with Transfiguration.

----They hovered protectively around him like floating blades, ready to block or strike. In that moment, something clicked in Lucifer's mind.

This was why Dumbledore didn't need the Dark Arts. Why even without them, he could suppress two generations of Dark Lords.

Transfiguration was terrifying. Its adaptability was second to none.

Whatever the situation, however hostile the environment, as long as there was material to work with, you could conjure exactly what you needed-tools, weapons, creatures-on the fly.

Dumbledore wasn't just a legend. He was the 'Jackie Chan' of the wizarding world.

Take centaurs, for example. They couldn't use conventional magic, but every one of them was a master of herbs and astronomy, gifted in divination and the application of potions.

Lucifer hadn't blocked Orion's arrow with a spell just now for a good reason---Centaur arrows carried powerful anti-magic enchantments. The only way to defend against them was with physical barriers----

"KILL HIM! He's the one who took my arm!" Orion shrieked from the ground, his blood soaking into the snow. His cries only further stoked the herd's rage.

But the leader, apparently named Magrey, didn't respond to Orion. Instead, he turned to another centaur with bloodshot eyes beside him.

"Bane, help Orion stop the bleeding. Don't do anything else," Magrey ordered.

Bane let out a snort of fury but obeyed, hurrying over to treat Orion's wound with salve.

"Everyone else-lower your weapons!"

Magrey shouted.

"He hurt our own! Blood must pay for blood! That is the law of our kind!" one of the centaurs, Ronan, protested with fury in his voice.

"I know, Ronan. But he is a foal of Hogwarts!" Magrey growled in return. "You also know what it means to harm a Hogwarts student. You know what wrath 'Dumbledore' would bring down upon us. Do you want the entire herd to suffer for 'your vengeance?'"

The name Dumbledore had an almost magical weight to it.

Ronan's anger evaporated in an instant, his face paling. Around him, the other centaurs shifted uneasily, hooves pawing at the ground, bows drooping by their sides.

Once he saw his kin had calmed, Magrey finally turned back to Lucifer. His voice was low and heavy.

"Foal, I am Magrey, chief of this herd."

Lucifer gave a slight nod, unmoved.

Magrey went on, "I may have stopped our herd from seeking revenge, but that doesn't mean the anger has disappeared. You must give us an explanation. Why did you maim Orion so cruelly?"

"If you can't give one, I'll bring you before Dumbledore. Let him expel you."

Lucifer was not one to be antagonistic to those who spoke sensibly. In the castle, Hermione always treated him sweetly, and in turn, he treated her with equal care.

Magrey's words were reasonable, and it cooled the killing intent in his heart---at least a little.

"I'm Lucifer Morningstar. Gryffindor'"

The moment that name left his lips, Magrey's pupils contracted sharply.

Lucifer noticed the change, but didn't care. He continued calmly, recounting the earlier events:

"I'm just a new student, couldn't sleep, went out for a walk. I stumbled across a Re'em. Thought I'd take a bit of blood and some hair. Just a bit. But then your kin jumped out and tried to stop me. Called me a poacher."

"I told him who I was. Warned him not to aim his bow at me. But did he listen? No. He told me to surrender and kept that arrow pointed at my chest----"

"So I did what I had to. I took him down."

"This is your idea of 'taking down'?" Bane snapped from Orion's side. "You chopped his arm off!"

Lucifer sneered, pointing to the spot he'd been standing earlier. "You see that dent in the ground? That's from his arrow. He shot straight for my chest. He meant to kill. So what, I was supposed to hold back? Had you lot not shown up, he'd already be dead."

"Poisonous little devil'," Bane muttered through clenched teeth.

Lucifer had gotten used to it. Everyone hated him. But really, was it hate? No. It was an accurate judgment. So he never even tried to earn a good reputation. In fact, sometimes the label gave him the freedom to do things more openly.

'I'm already the Devil. You expect me to be a good guy? Please.'

With the moral weight lifted, Lucifer felt unburdened, even liberated. And with the arrow mark as proof and Orion not daring to object, Magrey had no choice but to accept his story.

He glared at Orion, furious that the idiot had dragged their herd into this mess. Centaurs might not be many in number, but they were full of internal drama. Their herd was split into three factions:

The most radical-the anti-human zealots, like Bane and Orion. Extreme and hostile, they hated all outsiders.

The middle ground-the neutralists. They didn't like humans either, but preferred to live and let live. Ronan was one of them, and his faction was the largest.

The rarest were the friendlies-those who believed humans and centaurs could coexist peacefully. But they were outcasts among their kind, labeled as traitors.

And Magrey?

As herd leader, he didn't belong to any faction. His every decision was based on one thing---the survival of the herd!'

That was the only reason he'd stayed calm instead of attacking. Because he knew: even if Lucifer had killed Orion, as long as he was a Hogwarts student, it wasn't the centaurs' place to exact punishment.

Magrey spoke again. "Foal. Even if Orion was out of line, you did provoke him first by harming the Re'em."

Lucifer scowled. "Do you even know what poaching means? It's either killing or capturing. I wasn't doing either. I was going to take a bit of blood and fur.... That's it. I even brought dittany for the wound. How is that 'poaching'?"

"And besides, 'poaching' is a human wizard concept. What's it got to do with you lot? Just because you live in the Forbidden Forest, you think you own the place?"

His arrogant tone fanned the flames again--regardless of faction, every centaur present now looked furious.

Lucifer glanced at the sky. It was nearly 3 AM. He didn't have the patience to argue anymore. Shields spinning around him accelerated.

"Enough talk. Either I wipe your very kind, or you get out of my way. Don't waste my time---I've got materials to collect."

----Taking on more than a dozen fully armed centaurs at once was nothing but a single "minor minute" mess, if he went on pure killing intent.

It wasn't something that scared Lucifer. If it really came to a fight, he could instantly authorize go full-war engagement mode and deal with the centaurs without so much as a scratch----

Magrey gave him a long, piercing look. "I won't harm you. But... I will tell Dumbledore everything. Go ahead, little foal-do what you came to do. We'll watch you, and make sure the Re'em lives."

Lucifer studied Magrey's expression closely. He didn't detect any murderous intent, which meant there probably wouldn't be a sneak attack. Satisfied, he stepped toward the Re'em.

The massive creature was still unconscious even after all this time-proof that Lucifer's final blow had been incredibly effective.

He conjured a sharp knife using Transfiguration and began to carefully pluck the golden hairs and draw the blood.

----All the while, he kept his fourth dimension on high alert, monitoring every movement the centaurs made. Any sudden action would trigger an immediate response---they would be slaughtered. Or worse, since Makima's watching.... She might even make Centaurs beg to be killed themselves.

But from start to finish, the centaurs never moved. They simply watched him with unblinking eyes.

After applying dittany to the wound, the gash closed quickly, and the bleeding stopped. Unfortunately, the hair he had shaved off wasn't going to grow back anytime soon. It would take a while for that glorious coat to recover-----

Now, the poor Re'em looked patchy and ridiculous---its once 'divine aura' completely ruined.

Lucifer managed to collect about a liter of blood, more than enough for his purposes. The golden hairs were plenty, too. He now had the perfect Christmas gift for Hermione.

After packing up, he turned to Magrey. "Since you lot are so concerned about the magical creatures in the forest, I'll leave this one in your care....And next time-stay out of my way. If anyone dares point a bow at me again, 'I will kill them.'"

He didn't wait for their response. With that, he turned and headed back the way he came.

He'd originally planned to harvest some Acromantula venom tonight as well, but the mood was ruined. Might as well head back and sleep. He'd return another day.

It wasn't until Lucifer's silhouette vanished completely that Ronan finally growled, "I'll have Hagrid take me to Dumbledore first thing tomorrow. That little foal must be 'punished!"

"Punished? Punished for what, exactly?"

Magrey spun around and gave Ronan a look of utter disappointment. "You'll go to Dumbledore and say what? That the centaurs attacked a student and got their limbs chopped off in return?"

"Where would that leave the dignity of our kind? You may not care about saving face, but do you think Dumbledore will side with you?"

Ronan stared at him in disbelief. "But Magrey, didn't you just say---?"

"I said that for the sake of appearances," Magorian growled under his breath. Then, raising his voice, he addressed the rest of the herd sharply. "Let me make this very clear. Our laws and customs may be sacred---but they do not override the agreement we made with Dumbledore."

"Under no circumstances are we to 'harm that boy'. Not even point a bow at him. Do you all understand me?"

The centaurs fell silent. There were no words for the bitterness they felt.

But what choice did they have?

This was Hogwarts. Dumbledore's domain. If they left the forest, they'd only face more enemies, not fewer.

The somber mood persisted until Orion's condition was stabilized and he rejoined the group. Magrey led his people back toward their territory.

Midway through the trek, he gradually slowed down, falling from the front of the column to the very rear, where he walked alongside a young centaur.

"Bane," he said quietly, "You understand why I made that decision, don't you?"

Bane nodded. He looked up at the stars above. "You made the right choice, Chief. If you had insisted on attacking that boy... I would've risked everything to stop you."

Magorian's eyes narrowed. "What did you see?" Among centaurs, stargazing was a deeply respected skill-and Bane was the most gifted seer of their generation.

"Antares flickers," Bane murmured. "But is it the blaze of a star destined to burn forever -or the final flare of one dying out? That choice lies with you."

Magrey's pupils dilated. Antares... their guiding star. The heart of the centaur's own constellation. 'If I had chosen wrongly today---if I'd provoked that young wizard---did he really have the power to wipe out our entire tribe? Was he really what he said----w-where is the aura of Celestial?'

xxxxxx

Back in the castle.....

Lucifer let out a satisfied sigh as he slipped beneath the covers, he had purchased. Luxury had only one flaw---it was expensive for humans.

Not his issue. This blanket was absurdly soft and retained heat like a charm. It felt like snuggling a warm little fairy, and Lucifer's quality of sleep had improved dramatically because of it.

Still, he wasn't sleepy yet.

Not because he was worried the centaurs would report him to Dumbledore. He'd done nothing illegal today-no Dark Magic, no poaching. Chopping off a centaur's arm?

At worst, that would cost him a few house points. If anyone was going to be upset, it'd be Minerva---not him.

No, what kept him awake was something else entirely. He was 'envious' of Dumbledore.

Today, for the first time, Lucifer had witnessed the full weight of the White Wizard's reputation. The moment his name was mentioned, those proud 'centaurs' folded---just like how wizards froze at the mere mention of Voldemort.

That kind of awe, that influence... it stirred something deep inside him.

When would he reach 'that level in the Wizarding world?' They didn't even believe in the Bible.

"Slow down. One step at a time," Lucifer whispered to himself, "As long as I study hard and keep moving forward... one day, I'll surpass them all. They will 'fear' me."

xxxxxxx

The next morning, Lucifer slept in until just before class, his mind groggy and muddled.

He wasn't sure what time he had finally dozed off, but it felt like he had barely closed his eyes before being forced to get up.

He caught up on sleep during History of Magic, then continued napping through Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Sure, a bottle of energy potion could've fixed him up instantly, but potions only suppressed the symptoms. Sleep? Sleep felt good. So Lucifer chose the most primal, satisfying solution---because he just 'wanted to feel right!'

Hermione sat next to him in History of Magic.

She had no idea what he'd been up to last night, only that he looked absolutely exhausted. So, kind hearted little witch slipped a pair of earplugs into his ears, letting him sleep more soundly----

But by the time Defense Against the Dark Arts rolled around, her curiosity was starting to creep up?

And when it does? Far more persistent than even Harry's self-created aura of the "Saviour"

Near the end of class, he finally stirred awake. Hermione leaned over, her voice hushed but urgent, eyes gleaming with questions.

"Lucifer, what happened to you last night? I've never seen you look this out of it."

That was saying something. Hermione was a stickler for rules and rarely tolerated off-topic chatter in class.

But this was 'Defense Against the Dark Arts'. The one subject where going off-topic actually made things 'more' interesting. Not even Snape was here today, Quirrell would start teaching after Christmas break.

It was actually a Chanted golem who kept on reading textbooks pages at the current moment-----

Lucifer let out a long yawn, mouth dry as dust. He grabbed his water bottle, chugged a mouthful, and answered lazily, "Went out for a late-night snack. Couldn't fall asleep no matter what I tried...."

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"You go for midnight snacks all the time. Why would last night be different?"

"Because last night, I was having that snack... in the Forbidden Forest," he sighed dreamily, "Hannah's cooking is divine. If I had a little chef like her at home, I'd never eat anywhere else."

....Huh?

The 'Forbidden Forest' part didn't even register. That detail was irrelevant.

But-a little chef? 'And Hannah?'

Hermione froze. Then she leaned in, whispering furiously, "You ate with Hannah Abbott?!"

"Ran into her by chance," Lucifer said breezily, "Susan was there too. And another second-year girl." He smacked his lips, rubbing his chin.

He hadn't eaten breakfast this morning, and just thinking about it made his stomach growl again.

"...I see." Hermione mumbled, filing away critical intel: 'Hannah Abbott cooks well. Her food suits Lucifer's tastes. Remember this.'

Then she pivoted with calculated calm, "Lucifer, I asked around, it seems orphans are allowing a day break, making up for Hogsmeade? Using floor powder, want to hang out in town?" She added nonchalantly, "My Mum and I are going skiing in the Pyrenees after New Year's. So I'm around until then...."

"Mmm, not sure. I might be busy."

"That's okay! Surely you'll have 'one' afternoon free?" Hermione pressed, smiling brightly, "We could meet in Diagon Alley. It's not like you live far. Unlike Greengrass, poor thing---her place is practically on another continent."

'Now this is what a true friend sounds like.....' Lucifer had a weird fluttery twirl inside somewhere realising how much she wanted to spend time with him.

xxxxxx

Courtyard Garden, Hannah stared blankly at the two slices of cake in front of her. Her mind whirled.

She wracked her brain and came up with exactly zero interactions with Hermione Granger.

She was famous for being strict, standoffish, and a model student someone Hannah instinctively kept her distance from.

Family background? Don't even get started. Muggleborn and pure-blood.

Rowdy Gryffindor, Cute Jigglypuffs.

Entirely different worlds. And her parents were dentists, in muggle world---that seemed to be a profession deeming good profits.

Hannah's was barely 'scraping by.' And her grade's were comparable to an academic scumbag.

Hermione Granger? Nicknamed to be 'Brightest Witch of her freshmen batch.'

So why, in Merlin's name, was the girl handing her the most expensive cakes from Madam Puddifoot's tearoom?!

Last time someone brought one of these back from Hogsmeade, an upperclassman spent a full week flaunting it.

'Gulp.' Hannah swallowed nervously.

"Um... Granger? Did you maybe... give these to the wrong person?"

Hermione flashed her a dazzling smiles.

"Don't be so formal. I'm Hermione. No need for surnames between friends."

Hannah hesitated. Then gave in.

"O-Okay... Hermione... You sure you didn't mix up your delivery?"

"Nope!" She said sweetly. "This is first favorite-White Whale Caviar Mille-Feuille. And second's pretty amazing too. Black Truffle Chocolate Lava Cake. I heard you've got a sweet tooth-especially for chocolate--so I asked around your dorm."

Now Hannah was just scared. And hungry. The cakes were calling to her.

...Well, what's the worst that could happen? She wouldn't poison her, right? Taking a deep breath, Hannah steeled herself.

She whispered a quick thanks--then dug in. The brunette beamed.

Hermione handed over some lemon water she'd prepped ahead of time-just in case Hannah choked.

Then in a split second conjured a cozy flame with Bluebell Fire-gentle and warm, perfect for winter afternoons.

Moments later, the cakes were gone, and Hannah looked like a girl who'd just touched heaven.

"Hermione... if you need anything -anything-just say the word! I'll help, no matter what it is! Even homework-I'll write the whole thing myself!" Hannah thumped her chest.

She'd figured it out during her feast. This kind of unexpected warmth could only mean one thing: 'she wanted something.'

And that was fine. Hufflepuffs 'loved' helping friends. Anyone who gave her cake? Instant friend for life.

"Hannah, you're honestly the smartest and kindest Hufflepuff I've ever met!" Hermione said dramatically.

Then she added with a grin, "I do need your help---but don't worry, I'm not cruel enough to make you do my homework."

Hannah visibly relaxed. Not homework? Well then, what else could possibly be too difficult?

Hermione pressured over.

"This morning in class, Lucifer said your stew and Four-Season Lamb were better than anything Hogwarts serves. I'd really love to learn to cook like that. Just for myself, you know?"

"Oh, that's it?" Hannah blinked. All that stress and second-guessing had been for nothing. Without hesitation, she nodded.

"I'll let you know the next time I'm cooking. You know where the Hufflepuff common room is, right? Just come find me there---Although..." Hannah's tone dipped slightly, her confidence wavering, "I've never actually taught anyone to cook before. I might not be very good at explaining...."

"That's totally fine," Hermione jumped in quickly. "If I mess it up, it's on me, not you. You just need to talk through the steps as you go. I'll take notes and practice slowly."

"That makes it a lot easier." Hannah let out a breath of relief, "If we don't get it right the first time, we'll try again. And again. Cooking's all about practice.... Once you understand the ingredients, seasoning, and heat control, it's not that hard. We can start after the Christmas holidays."

"I don't think we need to wait until after," Her guest chimed in suddenly.

Hannah's eyes widened, her twin pigtails bouncing. She hadn't expected Granger to be this 'passionate' about cooking.

"Well... I suppose that's doable, but that means you'd have to come to my house. You can use the Floo Network though-it's eas----"

"Parra," Susan who was watching over her friend from nearby also marched over while calling softly.

CRACK! A loud pop split the air, making Hermione and Hannah both jump in shock at the sudden intruders.

Hannah gasped. "A house-elf?!"

Hermione stared, wide-eyed, at the odd little creature that had suddenly materialized.

"Milady!"

The house-elf-small, with giant bat-like ears and tennis ball-sized eyes-bowed so deeply it nearly faceplanted.

Susan non-chalantly introduced them, still as casual as ever, "Hannah since you are 'being generous', this is Parra-one of my family's house-elves. You know Aunt Amelia's taste of messing.... She has 'never' stepped foot in a kitchen. Can Parra also learn to cook from you.... It will take me a lot of time, and I'd just slow you down. Parra, on the other hand, is already trained in domestic magic and basic culinary arts. She'll pick it up quickly... We'll have her stay at your place over the holidays. She can help out with chores too."

Hermione present here who was well aware of her strengths---and cooking wasn't one of them. She didn't even know which end of a knife to hold!

And just look at Susan, what she had was 'wealth and a prestigious' pure-blood lineage. And that was enough for a magical kid. 'Let this Parra learn. As for me....'

"R-Really? You're just going to let her stay with us? What about your family-won't you be short-staffed?"

Hannah's eyes sparkled, obviously intrigued. A house-elf in her home... That was unheard of in the Abbott household. Everything had always been done by hand---her father and mother personally took care of all chores.

"No worries. We've still got two more at home." Susan waved it off like it was no big deal, "Parra, while you're staying with the Abbotts, you'll do as Hannah and her parents ask. And learn her recipes carefully---I'll be checking your progress when you return."

"Yes, Mistress!" Parra looked up, full of spirit, then turned to Hannah and bowed again. "Miss Hannah, please command me as you see fit!"

Seeing how seriously Susan meant it, Hannah dropped her hesitations and nodded her acceptance. Internally, though, she was reeling.

'The Bones really are loaded too.'

Most pure-blood families with even one house-elf would flaunt it like a royal emblem. And they had three?! And all she had to do was teach a few recipes? That was the deal of the century. Susan had already treated her so many times.

xxxxxx

After she parted ways with Hannah, Hermione turned to Susan, still visibly curious.

"Susan, what exactly is a house-elf? Are they a type of magical creature? I didn't see anything about them in 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'."

The Hufflepuff girl wasn't surprised. Hermione was brilliant, but she was still new to the wizarding world. So she explained patiently:

"House-elves aren't considered magical beasts. They're a magical species-like goblins or dwarves... Most old wizarding families have at least one. They're servants who help with housework and daily chores."

Hermione frowned. The word 'servant' didn't sit right with her. Raised in a modern, progressive Muggle family, the idea of magical indentured labor set off all kinds of internal alarms.

"But wait," She said, her brow furrowed, "Hogwarts doesn't allow Apparition inside the grounds. So how did Parra just pop in like that?"

"Oh, that's something Lucifer told me," Susan said offhandedly, "The Apparition ban only applies to wizards. House-elves aren't restricted by it. Same with the Headmaster's phoenix---Fawkes can come and go freely, too." She squinted at her, amused. "Why're you so interested in house-elves all of a sudden?"

"No reason," Hermione replied quickly, "I've just... never seen one before." She didn't plan on saying anything more. Instead, she intended to do her own research later that evening.

xxxxxxxx

The classrooms themselves had their windows rattling from the winds outside.

Potions class was probably the worst, as it was down in the dungeons. The only solace they found was in their cauldrons radiating some heat.

Lucifer did also notice that Hermione was standing closer to him than usual in Potions class. He figured it was just for extra "potential warmth." or silently asking him to cast the charm on her, without being direct, he thought she was stubbornly cute.

At last, it was Friday---the final class before the holidays. Tomorrow morning, students heading home would board the Hogwarts Express for a well-earned break.

Even those staying behind were already settling into the relaxing rhythm of eat-sleep-repeat. Spirits were high. 'Discipline... not so much!'

That is, until they stepped into another one of Snape's Potions class.

No matter how cheerful you felt, Potions with Professor Snape was the ultimate mood killer. Malfoy took the opportunity to sneer at Harry again. "Poor Potter," he said loudly, "nobody wants him. Has to spend Christmas at school."

He wanted to toss in a jab at Lucifer too-another so-called abandoned orphan left behind for the holidays, even worse than Potter's---but didn't dare.

Ever since that confrontation, Malfoy pretended Lucifer didn't exist. Their interactions were nonexistent. Malfoy wasn't dumb---he knew better than to provoke someone like that again.

Harry heard the taunt loud and clear, but his expression didn't flicker. 'This is your idea of bullying? Please. That's practically flirting....'

He loved staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. Anything was better than spending another miserable Christmas with the Dursleys.

If he had a choice, he'd spend summer break at Hogwarts too. Unfortunately, the school shut down completely over the summer.

After class, students broke into cheers the moment Snape stepped away from his cauldron. Surprisingly, he didn't scold them---He just turned and stalked out of the classroom, black robes billowing behind him.

Then Lucifer and Hermione slipped out, weaving between the towering pine trees Hagrid had dragged in for the holiday decorations. Just ahead, Snape was making his way down the corridor.

Behind them, Malfoy had shifted targets again. Now he was mocking Ron Weasley's family.

"Planning to work at Hogwarts when you graduate, Weasley? Hagrid's hut probably looks like a 'palace' compared to your house."

Ron exploded.

Red-faced and furious, he charged straight at Malfoy. Snape's lips curled in a malicious little grin. He'd just been waiting for an excuse to dock points.

But then--Lucifer stepped in front of him, "Professor," he said smoothly, "let the 'kids' fight it out. I've got something more important for you."

Snape's expression darkened instantly. Behind them, Ron and Malfoy were already tangled in a scuffle, yelling and swearing. But Lucifer didn't budge.

"Make it quick," Snape said coldly.

Lucifer's eyes sparkled with mischief. He leaned in and said, "Nothing much. Just figured-since we're both free right now-how about a duel?"

Snape's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. He stared at the boy, completely ignoring the chaos erupting on the staircase. The real battle was only just beginning, "The upcoming holiday is Christmas, not April Fool's Day, Mr. Morningstar."

Snape's voice was calm, but even a troll could detect the sarcasm in it.

"Professor, I do know how to read a calendar."

"Then why don't you take back what you just said?"

Lucifer tilted his head slightly, feigning innocent confusion. "Why would I do that, Professor? Don't tell me you think our relationship is close enough to 'joke' around like that?"

Snape's face darkened instantly. 'Would it kill you to keep that mouth shut for once?'

Lucifer, seemingly oblivious to Snape's growing irritation, sighed dramatically, "Professor, I've just come to a realization---this path of learning magic is far 'lonelier' than I imagined. There's no clear benchmark, no standardized system. I honestly have no idea how far I've come. The students in 'Gryffindor'... let's say the room for improvement is considerable'. But as for me, it feels like they're no longer a valid point of comparison...."

'Oh, he's waxing poetic now.' Snape's expression twitched as he tried to keep his composure. He took a slow, deep breath. "So now you've decided to make 'me' your benchmark?"

"Exactly," Lucifer replied, utterly unapologetic, "You're technically also my Head of House. Isn't helping 'your students' improve part of your job description? You should be flattered to have a student as brilliant as me. It's just a duel---it won't take long."

What he wanted was a test.

Snape's strength, in his limited view of Wizarding world, represented a sort of dividing line within it.

----Above Snape, the number of stronger wizards was extremely small. Exclude Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Voldemort, and even someone like Mad-Eye Moody from Weasely Twins list often touted as the strongest Auror-might just barely edge him out in magical power due to experience, not raw talent.

Some elite Death Eaters were also in Snape's league. You should blame Dumbledore for not keeping their backgrounds hidden, or not stopping him from talking reading material from his private library.

---Below Snape? You'd find elite Aurors like Kingsley Shacklebolt, who, from Dumbledore's words in a duel against Snape, wouldn't stand a chance.

----Go another level down, and you'd hit the realm of mediocrity. That's where people like Blacks, Potters, Longbottoms came in, who

A Black especially: The Headmaster described one in Potter's family generation---- reckless, aggressive, and ultimately just a well-packaged paper tiger. Man was in Azkaban, to boot.

---So Snape was perfect--'a living gauge' of Lucifer's current level to gaze at his Wizarding world's magic, not from a celestial's special point, otherwise he would risk burning soul of his Potions Master into ashes.

Lucifer would be giving himself a major handicap, not just turning off most of his abilities, but careful about hurting the man, even with his not complete "utterly godly essence."

----humans can't tolerate it without dying into Nothingness after all.

If he could gain Snape's recognition, it'd give him more freedom to execute some riskier plans over the summer holidays. And if 'he' surpassed Snape, just by Wizardry magic, in four months?

---Well then, against most wizards, he could just say: "I don't eat your kind."---a cocky phrase meaning don't waste my time.

Lucifer's summer holiday plans weren't exactly safe. He couldn't afford to rely solely on brief moments of peak performance. Snape stared at him, eyes narrowing.

He had to admit---he was a little curious. The boy had beaten Slytherins's best promising talent in dueling, within his first month at Hogwarts. After a full term, how 'much stronger had he grown?'

Had he reached Snape's expectations?

Of course, that wasn't the important part. What was important... was that Snape finally had a legitimate excuse to give this smug brat a proper thrashing. 'Merlin's beard, how could I not take this opportunity?'

"I accept. Today---"

"Stop right there! What do you think you're doing?!" Before Snape could finish, a sharp, furious voice echoed from the stairs. Professor McGonagall had arrived.

Seeing students brawling in the corridor sent her face red with anger. She stormed over, barking orders for them to stop. But once she got a closer look, her rage shifted into something like horror.

Not because two of her students were involved-but because of Snape. 'The fight was clearly escalating right in front of me, and what was I doing?'

Having a casual chat with a student a few steps away. Snape's normally pale face flushed. He had gotten so caught up in Lucifer's ridiculous challenge that he'd completely forgotten about Malfoy.

Lucifer turned to look too. Malfoy wasn't doing great.

His pristine school robes had a massive tear, his face was scratched up, and his usually immaculate platinum-blond hair looked like a bird's nest.

Still, he was in better shape than Harry and Ron.

After all, it had been three against two. And with Crabbe and Goyle in the mix, their sheer size alone was enough to swing the tide.

Luckily, Harry and Ron had been smart enough to focus all their efforts on Malfoy, barely managing to even the odds.

"Minerva, you're just in time," Snape said, trying to recompose himself. "I was just about to intervene. I saw it clearly---Weasley started the fight with Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle merely came to their friend's aid."

"Malfoy started it with his mouth!" Harry's glasses were cracked, but he'd already repaired them with a quick 'Reparo'. He turned to defend Ron immediately.

"Professor McGonagall, Malfoy insulted Ron's family. He said... Hagrid's hut would be a palace compared to their home!"

Rage turned Ron's face crimson as he glared at Malfoy.

Professor McGonagall's sharp eyes zeroed in on the Slytherin boy. "Mr. Malfoy, is what Potter said true?"

With both Heads of House present, even Malfoy didn't dare lie. He turned his face away in sullen silence.

"Very well. Just 'marvelous'." McGonagall took a deep breath. "Holiday or not, you're all causing trouble. Ten points will be taken from each of you Gryffindors! Fifteen each from Slytherin! In addition to your regular homework, you'll all write a five-thousand-word reflection over the break---and hand it in when term resumes."

"Also, you'll all serve two weeks' detention when you return!"

She really hit them with the full package-academic, moral, and disciplinary consequences. She didn't even bother consulting Snape on the punishment.

After issuing the verdict, she sent them all straight to the Hospital Wing for treatment, "And if any of you speak to each other again before getting there, your punishment will double."

With no other option, Harry and Ron could only glare daggers at Malfoy on their way upstairs, their mouths clamped shut.

Snape was absolutely livid. And it was entirely Morningstar's fault. If that blasted boy hadn't stalled him, none of this mess would've happened. Gryffindor again had already written off RavenClaw and Hufflepuff from the House Cup, making a good lead---whether those two lost points or not, they were dead at the bottom places!'

But Slytherin? Slytherin still had a real shot at the Cup. And now they'd lost points from three students?

Twenty five points gap decreased in a second? A complete disaster.

Snape hadn't expected it---Minerva bloody McGonagall, with her big honest eyes and stern expression, had gone full 'devious!'

She'd dragged Slytherin down just to make it look like she was being fair, while Gryffindor caught up even after classes scheduled off.

Snape shot Lucifer a murderous glare and muttered under his breath, "Midnight. Quidditch pitch. I've got potions for days---you'll need them. If you don't show up, well... you know what happens."

And with that, he turned and stalked off, robes billowing behind him like a storm cloud-classic bat-mode reactivated.

"..." Hermione who heard everything, and didn't interrupt out of the sheer tension. Oh, she was livid.

'Whack!'

She gave those cheeks a 'Swat!' and, watched jiggling with her narrowed pupils, he had more of a flesh than she'd thought a boy should have, even better than hers.... Her mood became complicated.

xxxxxx

The Great Hall was a real treat right now, just like Hagrid mentioned, it was a sight to behold, "So," he started after setting up the final tree for McGonagall and Flitwick, "How many days yeh got left until yer holidays?"

"Just one more," Hermione said, excited to see her family again after, being almost four months away from them, "That reminds me, Harry, you said you'd join Lucifer and I in the Library before lunch, which we have a half-hour until."

Harry nodded and glanced at the boy standing beside him.

"Oh yeah, you're right," Ron said, tearing his eyes from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the newest tree.

"Who said you could join us, Ronald?" It was Hermione, who asked this question, while they were about to leave the hall. 'Can't he just go away?'

"He's going to help us, remember?" Harry tried to interject, before another fight took place, only Hagrid was also following them, "The Library? A bit keen there, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry was known to be a chatterbox, and just went with the flow, but Lucifer smacked his shoulder.

"Not working? Then what are yeh goin' to the Library fer?" Hagrid asked them.

The cat was out of the bag now, so Harry explained further, "Well... ever since you mentioned Nicholas Flamel, we've been trying to figure out who he is..."

"You what!?" Hagrid looked shocked, "Listen here, I've told yeh before, jus' drop it, okay? It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'"

"Oh, we just want to know who Nicholas Flamel is, that's all," Hermione said in a sweet voice. Lucifer looked at her and realised it was her "secret voice" which she used with him on times, when the girl wanted to slack off practicing Shielding Charm, which he'd decided to teach her after the Troll incident.

----It wasn't a total lie, but she did it so easily that it unnerved both Harry and him.

"Unless you'd like to save us the trouble?" The messy black-haired boy, decided to just ignore it, and foolishly added, "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere. Come on, just give us a hint?"

"I'm sayin' nothin'," Hagrid said, and that was that.

The four of them walked away to the library and Hermione glared at Harry again. It was true, though, they had read through many, many books.

It was mostly Lucifer and Hermione doing the heavy reading, but Harry and Ron did skim through books, looking for any sign of the name 'Nicholas Flamel'.

Of course, he wasn't in the Great Wizards of Twentieth Century, Notable Magical Names of Our Time, 'Important Modern Magical Discoveries,' or 'A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry.'

And of course, at least, according to Harry and Ron, size of the Library was daunting to look at, and lowered their morale greatly.

They didn't give up, yet, and Lucifer felt that, they should get special awards for it.

"Hey, I forgot to ask where you got that, Occlumency book from anyway? I didn't find it the last time I was here....."

"....." Lucifer.

"Y-you didn't steal it from the restricted section, right?" When the boy in question, didn't say anything in response, Hermione already had a bad feeling.

"Lucifer, I swear to God!" A loud shout was heard from their desk, it was Hermione, who was going bonkers, and started hitting her best friend's arms with her large book.

"Shhh.....Keep quiet or I'll directly ban you from the library!" Madam Pince threatened, from her seat, while glaring at these annoying first years, it was only then, Lucifer was saved from the bushy-haired girl's outbursts.

Only, they achieved nothing in their half hour before lunch and made their way out of Library and towards Great Hall once again. "You will look while I'm at home, won't you? I know you will, Harry, but what about you, Ronald? If you don't then...."

Hermione paused her sentence, while crossing her arms at the red-haired boy, the criminal who's always following them, under the reason of being looking out for Harry's well-being or something like that.

"I'll try... but we've looked through so many books already, Hermione," Ron said, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"You can always steal from the Restricted Section," She suggested, while her eyes staring at Lucifer's face, who tried his book to look innocent, and even seemed to have an angel halo over his head.

"And how are we going to do that? Madam Pince watches the Library like a hawk," Harry made her remember the problem with a sing-song voice, causing Hermione to give a eye-roll for bad mimicking.

"Don't look in my direction, I am really an angel," Lucifer replied, while giving a nice smile, that only made Hermione's face turn red even further, very furious and, wanting to correct his bad attitude in life.

The final dinner before the holiday was especially lavish. The Great Hall had been glittered with winter cheer-walls decked in holly and mistletoe, and now twelve towering Christmas trees topped with enormous glowing crystal orbs.

Students chattered excitedly about their holiday plans, laughter echoing across the hall. Even the professors at the head table looked warm and relaxed, for once.

But Lucifer looked up at the Professor, noticed something odd---Quirrell still wasn't here....? Maybe, he should give him a Christmas present?

'Judging by his absence, Quirrell had likely left the castle early.....'

xxxxxxx

Lucifer made his way to the Quidditch pitch by 11:30. At precisely midnight, Snape arrived.

Same long black robes, same cold expression---but Lucifer could immediately tell something was different.

Tonight, Snape radiated deadly intent. His robes rippled slightly from the pressure of the magic surrounding him. A long, thin wand was already in his grip, angled downward but ready.

Lucifer could feel it. He really wanted to beat 'him' senseless.

The way Snape held himself, the intensity---anyone watching might think he was preparing to duel 'Dumbledore.'

'Speaking of which...'

Lucifer tilted his head and glanced up at the castle's tallest tower---the one with the best view in all of Hogwarts. Even with high walls of the Quidditch pitch, someone watching from there could still see.

With a mischievous smile, he teased, "Professor, do you think... Professor Dumbledore might be the only spectator to our duel tonight?"

"No need to worry," Snape said, dragging out each syllable coldly. "He's left the castle. No one will disturb us. And no one's coming to save you."

He raised his wand in formal salute-the traditional start of a duel.

"Let's not waste time. The sooner this ends, the sooner I can stop freezing out here. Morningstar, as your professor, I'll give you the first move."

Lucifer raised his wand and gave a slight bow. At the exact same moment, a thundercloud materialized above Snape and crashed down with a lightning strike.

It was sudden, brutal---but Snape was no rookie. His reflexes kicked in before his brain had even processed the danger. A barrier of raw magical energy snapped up just in time to deflect the bolt---

He wanted to yell at Lucifer for breaking the rules---but technically, he hadn't.

Lucifer had completed the dueling salute. He'd just... cast a spell while doing it.

'Typical Slytherin... If only Dumbledore hadn't messed with Sorting Hat, even the blurry gray areas of etiquette weren't safe from manipulation....' Snape's counter was immediate. He whipped the air around him into a swirling mass, shattering the storm overhead into streaks of black flame that hurled themselves at Lucifer like living shadows.

"Parlor tricks won't help you."

Even while attacking, Snape found time to taunt. Today-no one was saving Morningstar. This brat was about to learn why they called him the 'Half-Blood Prince.'

Lucifer smiled. "Come now, Professor. That was just my way of saying hello."

From the ground around him, a soft white glow erupted---light radiating outward like a beacon. It wrapped around him, melting the black flames like snowflakes under the sun.

"Patronus Charm?" Snape frowned.

'Could that really be a Patronus? Since when could that spell neutralize dark magic?'

Snape didn't know it, but this was where Lucifer's ancient studies came into play. The modern magical world treats the Patronus as a narrow tool---specifically for repelling Dementors and Lethifolds. Its fame came from how terrifying those creatures are, and how hard the spell is to master----

If a student managed to produce a full Patronus before graduation, it was considered a huge achievement---an instant ticket to bonus exam points.

But Dementors only entered magical history in the 15th century, alongside Azkaban. The Patronus Charm? That thing had been around for thousands of years, even on different earths, in different forms of casting.

And in ancient times, wizards or not, even meta-humans didn't have as many spells to counter curses and hexes, the Patronus or in other world "Pure light"was the universal defense---raw, radiant power designed to resist corruption and darkness.

Modern magic, with its safer, simpler methods, had long since buried its deeper uses. The bar was just too high. After all, just learning the basic Patronus was hard enough. Pushing it further? Nearly forgotten art.

Theoretically, Lucifer can take any form he desires, not even limited to humanoid shape, however he tends to interact with the world as a human male dressed in contemporary clothing----

Lucifer Morningstar is a fully omnipotent entity, thus can perform any and all feats as long as they don't conflict with free--will, that means while he can reshape reality on any scale he pleases he can not simply force someone to love him or rewrite someone's mind...'

This limitation upon Celestials was one of the key reasons Adam became so antagonistic towards him as despite being a Creation of god he could not make Lilith fall in love with him, nor could he understand the concept that love must be given freely and not forced upon another entity.

Unlike Eve, who was created from Adam's rib, Lilith was created from the same primordial clay as Adam. Because they were equals, she refused to submit to him----

When Adam demanded subservience, particularly during intercourse, Lilith refused. She spoke God's secret name, flew away from the Garden of Eden, and settled by the Red Sea, finding him, Samael or now known as Lucifer Morningstar....

The black smoke dissipated further---but some of it condensed, hardening into a swarm of shadowy daggers. With a flick of his wand, Snape raised a protective spell---dragging earth and soil into a dense suit of armor. The daggers hit with loud metallic clangs.

----Lucifer spun sharply, his motion releasing a ring of flame that circled the pitch. Two fiery serpents slithered toward Snape from behind, but he blasted them apart. His robes whipped around as he launched himself forward, bouncing across the ground like a giant bat-unnaturally fast, almost graceful.

"Professor, can you teach me that spell?"

"If you defeat 'me'," Snape replied evenly, though his heart was pounding with excitement, "I might 'consider' it."

He was having the time of 'his' life.

Lucifer's progress was astonishing. His ability to manipulate and reshape spell constructs in midair-especially Snape's own spells---was something only Dumbledore and McGonagall had ever managed in front of Snape's eyes.

He might be able to do it himself, but in a real duel? Too risky. He wouldn't dare try.

"Who taught you Transfiguration like that?" Snape asked, unable to hold back. He was starting to suspect Dumbledore had been giving Lucifer private lessons.

"I taught myself," Lucifer replied honestly. Right now, that was his strongest branch of magic, everything else was slightly behind.

"Fine. Don't tell me," Snape's expression darkened. "Let's see how many more tricks you've got."

He flicked his wand. Two invisible blades of air slashed toward Lucifer who raised an eyebrow and conjured a solid wall of water, pushing it forward like a shield. Suddenly, two gashes split through it-----

Lucifer instantly reinforced those weak points--'clang, clang' and the blades shattered against his defenses, "Professor, this one---I want to learn too."

"Sure, sure-take 'em all, Morningstar!"

Snape had stopped holding back.

He realized something now: Morningstar was a worthy opponent. And that long-frozen fire in his blood... was boiling again.

Lucifer couldn't find a real challenge at Hogwarts. But neither could Snape.

Dueling Dumbledore? Suicide. Challenging other professors? Too inappropriate. And the Death Eaters? The battle-hungry ones were either dead or imprisoned. The ones still loose were... unimpressive, to say the least. And yet---here he was, dueling a 'first-year student', and loving every moment of it.

Snape let go completely.

He yanked one of Quidditch goalposts clean off the ground with magic, reshaping it midair into a massive flaming arrow---or rather, a missile-and hurled it at Lucifer with violent force.

His expression finally shifted, "You flaming bat! Have you got any 'shame?!' Destroying sports field. Poor Madam Hooch...."

Snape was no longer holding back.

A tremendous surge of magic erupted from him, and only then did Lucifer realize---he had underestimated Severus Snape.

This level of power was completely inconsistent with how he'd been analyzing the man without using his 'fourth dimension', or even stronger, imp magic from extra dimensional beings, it was completely closed off to Lucifer's body for now, and it seems his eyes weren't deep soul-crushing just off yet.

'No wonder he had been poached by two mad men.' The sarcastic thought barely flickered across Lucifer's mind before he snapped back to the present. This wasn't the time to get distracted---he had to deal with the incoming attack.

Snape's magic was still boiling, still growing. That spell just now had only been a warm-up. The grass beneath their feet began to writhe. Countless blades of it twisted into hissing little snakes, slithering rapidly across the field.

---They coiled and lunged, closing off Lucifer's movement, disrupting his ability to cast. He countered with a shockwave at his feet, blasting the snakes back temporarily.

Then he tried to transfigure the incoming flaming spear---but failed. Snape had anticipated that and was still controlling the spell.

----He wasn't casting spells one by one. But multitasking-maintaining two different types of magic simultaneously. It was effectively a hybrid of Transfiguration and a high-level Fire Spell.

If transfiguring it was out of the question... then he'd destroy it.

Lucifer's eyes gleamed with focus. He murmured an incantation under his breath. A glowing orb from 'Divine Burial Gugnir' from Sealed form leapt from his wand, hovered above his head, then shot out a thick beam of raw magical energy, ramming directly into the giant flaming arrow----

'BOOM!'

A deafening explosion tore through the pitch. Thankfully, he had set up a 'Muffliato' charm around Quidditch field beforehand. Otherwise, that blast would've woken up every student in three houses-and every professor.

Except the Slytherins, of course. They were buried underground. Sound didn't reach down there. The flaming arrow shattered into a thousand blazing fragments----It is considered a "God Spear" for a reason, capable of burying Gods and destroying worlds.

Lucifer didn't waste a second. Riding the momentum, he transfigured the shards into hundreds of miniature arrows and---launched them straight back at Snape.

But Snape was like a slippery eel, dodging and weaving. His robes were laced with defensive enchantments and shimmered as they absorbed the impact----Beams of light streaked across the Quidditch pitch like shooting stars.

Spell collided with spell, unleashing swirling magical storms in midair.

---Without unleashing more of his outside abilities, and attacking the man himself, Lucifer had gone all out with current level of Wizard's magic.

And yet... he couldn't win. So what if he'd taken a potion? So what if he had divine cheats? It hadn't been enough time for him to recover. All told, he'd only been studying magic seriously for half a year---- his body was not even 'one percent' of his true strength.

Snape wasn't just some average wizard---he was a tireless, focused genius who had devoted himself to the craft for decades. In terms of spell variety, control, and raw power, Lucifer still had a long way to go into Wizardry, his innate abilities were all sealed, and couldn't be handled by an eleven year old human body at the moment.

Snape seemed to sense Lucifer's weakening momentum, because his spellcasting suddenly sped up again.

'DUANG-!'

A metal door slab appeared out of nowhere, slamming into place to block a gale-force spell. Snape actually flinched. 'That... was solid. Had Morningstar conjured that in a split second?'

A closer look revealed it had actually been summoned from Lucifer's pocket. Wait a second... Was this kid carrying a shield into battle?!

Lucifer traced a square in the air with his wand, and the door slab morphed into a metal box, completely enclosing him. His muffled voice came from inside, "Professor, let's call it a day. To be continued."

Snape actually laughed out of sheer rage. 'I'm about to win and you're calling for halftime?'

"Next time for sure"?

"You despicable Morningstar!" Snape bellowed, "Using a Tinnitus Jinx--how underhanded can you get?!" Without another word, he resumed his assault, magic flaring with renewed fury.

Lucifer stared in disbelief from inside the box. 'Is he seriously framing me?! Could he be any more shameless?!'

But no matter how many spells Snape hurled, the iron box didn't budge. It just started showing some scorch marks and scratches on the surface.

Snape finally threw up his hands in frustration, "Morningstar, where the hell did you get this thing? Why is it so damn sturdy?!"

"Don't bother wasting your magic, Professor," Lucifer's lazy voice drawled from inside, "I don't even know what this thing's limits are.. The more dark, forbidden curses, you're going to use in cracking it, sturdier it will be--- to adapt. Cursed technique."

At one point of the time, he'd wished for the strongest defensive tool possible---and he used one of his best Shikigami's eight handled wheel to make it, this bad boy came into existence, its cursed technique, God of Adaptation.

Clearly, it had delivered.

'Cursed technique, huh?' Snape glanced around the battlefield. The Quidditch pitch was already wrecked beyond recognition from their duel-scorched, torn, and cratered.

If he unleashed anything worse... it would become a disaster zone.

"Get out of your bloody turtle shell," Snape snapped. "And if you ever use that thing again during our sessions, don't bother showing up."

"You promise not to hex me when I come out?" Lucifer asked cautiously.

Snape gritted his teeth. "I'm a professor. You think I'd lie to a student?"

"Say it the Slytherin way. 'Slytherins don't lie to Gryffindor's"

Snape turned on his heel. "Fine. Then spend the night in there."

Lucifer scrambled to dismantle the box, transfiguring it back into the original door slab and tucking it into his pocket, "Don't go, Professor! Look at this mess---I can't clean it all up by myself!"

Snape gave him a cold smirk. "Using an Undetectable Extension Charm illegally... If you weren't named under my House, I'd dock points and ship you straight to Azkaban."

Lucifer pretended not to hear. He pulled out his wand and began casting 'Reparo' to fix the pitch, it's not like he could reverse time as of now.

Drawing a line down the center, he made it clear---half and half. No slacking. Snape didn't argue. With a wave of his wand, he began repairing the other side.

----Snape albeit in a good mood, used the opportunity to "educate" Lucifer's brain about the issues he'd shown into the fight, "You're too obsessed with showing off," he said bluntly. His keen eyes narrowed.

"What's the most important thing in a duel between wizards?"

Lucifer paused, then replied, "Disarming the opponent---or disabling them completely."

"Exactly. So why the hell were you so fixated on matching every spell I cast? You countered every attack and made it flashy, like you were performing in some magical talent show."

Lucifer fell silent, thoughtful. 'He's right... my attention had been glued to Snape's spells, rather than Snape himself. Aside from the opening moves, I'd just been reacting. It seems, unconsciously... I didn't go on offense to really injure the man...'

"Duels aren't just about spell-slinging," Snape continued, his tone softening now that, what he saw Lucifer doing actually reflecting, "Half the time, there are simpler, more efficient ways to counter a spell---but you chose the flashiest option. That cost you several chances to go on the offensive."

"Your magical reserves are abnormally high --definitely not what you'd expect from a student," Snape said, his tone heavy with implication, "But no matter how powerful you are, there will always be someone stronger in this world."

He gave Lucifer a long, meaningful look.

"If you haven't reached the top yet, then keep your head down. Don't draw attention. The one who laughs last---that's the true winner."

Lucifer nodded solemnly, committing every word to memory, as if a certain parental being came to mind, someone stronger than him in the world, ah yes, 'dear ol'Dad who could literally create or tore a hole into Universes....'

On the walk back to the castle, he couldn't resist asking a rather idiotic question.

"Professor... have you ever seen Professor Dumbledore duel? With my current level, how long do you think I'd last against him?"

Snape looked at Lucifer as if he were insane. After a long pause, he gave a faint laugh, "One to nine, maybe. He'd flatten you nine times over with a single spell."

"..." Lucifer. 'Are you kidding me? even holding back, a Leviathan beast could tear a newborn angel to shreds, let alone Dumbledore....'

Those creatures locked away in Purgatory were his pet dogs? And, he as their master--ahem? Let it go with a fool's ignorance.

"Okay, but compared to other wizards?"

Lucifer pressed further. The wizarding world's power hierarchy was frustratingly vague, and number of capable spellcasters he'd actually met was pitifully low. Only Snape could offer a reliable benchmark.

Snape stopped walking and stared at him for several seconds.

"With your current skills, you'd have no problem passing the Auror combat assessment---and with 'flying' colors," he said slowly, "But those tests don't account for dirty tricks, backstabbing, or what goes on in the shadows. Don't let arrogance be your downfall."

He could feel this boy was dangerous. This was his only warning.

"I understand," Lucifer replied, nodding again.

xxxxxx

The next morning at breakfast, Lucifer was still mentally replaying last night's duel-and Snape's critique.

In the past, whether facing heavenly opponents or beasts, Lucifer had always been the one with the upper hand. He liked to fight with flair, using clever, intricate spells to dominate his enemies. It was how he established overwhelming superiority.

It was also why so many upper-year students feared him. He looked terrifying in action.

But against Snape? Just a couple of rounds, followed by a plain, unremarkable spell that secured victory. It didn't look impressive---but was there any doubt who was stronger using Wizardry?

Facing Snape early had turned the tables. He had been the challenger this time. And human's weak body exposed quite a few flaws in his usual flashy, dramatic style, if godly powers were stripped from him.

Which led Lucifer to a conclusion: 'Fighting style isn't something you change. Power is temporary. Style is forever....'

He wasn't going to change. He'd rather die than change. The problem wasn't his aesthetic---it was that he wasn't strong enough yet. Weakness could be fixed through training, and time to recover.

Once he surpassed Snape in every way, fighting like this would be seen as casually stomping the weak.

With that realization, Lucifer finally felt at peace. 'Damn that old bat, almost messed with my heart and soul....'

"Lucifer! Lucifer!" Hermione's voice snapped him out of his daze, "You still have to fill this out boarding the train or not. It's for everyone."

Lucifer looked down at parchment in front of him, a formal letter titled:

"The Underage Wizard Holiday Magic Restriction Decree."

It stated in no uncertain terms: All witches and wizards under the age of seventeen were considered minors and strictly forbidden from using magic outside school.

Muggle-born students were also prohibited from revealing any information about the magical world to their close relatives-parents, grandparents, anyone. No magical items were allowed to circulate in the Muggle world.

A long list of restrictions. Too long.

'It was almost like... it was specifically designed to handicap Muggle-borns.'

And that was exactly what it was.

The Ministry relied on a crude monitoring method called the Trace, which couldn't detect who cast a spell---only that magic was used near a particular wand.

For mixed-blood families, having an adult wizard nearby meant the Trace was easy to manipulate. Pure-bloods had it even easier.... All they had to do was avoid using magic while the elders were at work.

But Muggle-borns? They got the worst of it. An entire holiday without their wand. The feel of spellcasting faded from memory.... By the time school resumed, it would take weeks just to get back into rhythm.

'Every year, they fell further behind. And when it came time to compete for jobs after graduation, how could they stand a chance against pure--and half-bloods?'

Lucifer chuckled, but the sound was hollow-devoid of warmth. He signed his name across the magically sealed parchment. 'You couldn't win against the registered system-not yet. I wasn't even an arm, just a small fry.'

But he would remember this injustice. One day, he'd settle the score with the Ministry. The Statute of Secrecy was signed into law in the late 1600s. Every one of its creators was long dead. 'Didn't matter.'

'Not only will I unlock a part of the Underworld which was hidden from me by that bastard.' '

I will pay those Secrecy creators a visit, even debts of the past would be paid by the descendants.''

xxxxxxx

At 9'o clock sharp, just before she left to board the train, Hermione was talking with Lucifer in the Great Hall, "Are you really going to stay?"

"Yeah, Mazikeen's probably gone back, I will come next year for sure in Diagon alley, you should enjoy with your family, not 'me as a distraction'," Lucifer was trying to explain, Hermione for the umpteenth time, why he's not boarding the train with her, or spending one that Hogwarts allowed one day, like they agreed earlier.

"Then, you will pick up the slack on searching for Flamel, won't you?" It's just she was still quite upset, regarding this sudden change of plans, so she decided to throw most of the work on Lucifer's head.

"....Of course, Hermione, you can count on me," he smiled at her in return, which made the bushy-haired feel very suspicious about his motives, but still, she decided to embrace him in kind, "I know, I can!"

After that, she pulled back and kissed his cheek lightly, then whispered, with eyes slightly in a daze, "Happy Christmas, Daddy."

"....You have a Merry Christmas as well, Hermione," Lucifer was quite used to this behaviour at this point, and walked her to the entrance of the Castle, watching her head out of the building and down to the train.

Letting the crowd thin before stepping out. He spotted her instantly---a tall, elegant woman standing head and shoulders around a pillared corner.

She had to be Daphne's mother, who came to pick up using Floo powder, going King's Cross Station was like extending a few more elf's apparation stops in between. 'That wasn't pleasant at all....'

She wore a pristine white fur coat that draped perfectly over her slender frame-at least 175 centimeters tall-and carried a simple leather handbag with tasteful accessories.

There was no mistaking her.

Sure enough, Daphne who had been a few steps behind watching Hogwarts express fill out, had already spotted her at the same time and bounced in excitement, "Mum!"

The woman smiled warmly as Daphne with a gesture of her eye roll signaled Lucifer to follow and in a matter of polite greetings exchange.

He glanced at Hermione and gave her a subtle nod, then made a writing-hand gesture.

Hermione smiled knowingly and, then gazed out her big eyes to look at Greengrass's family re-union, fixated on girl's slightly closer distance between their shoulders to her liking in a scowly huff.

"Mum!"

Daphne threw herself into Mrs. Greengrass's arms. "I missed you so much! Life without you these past few months was horrible!"

"Is that so?" Mrs. Greengrass didn't buy a word of it. Her attention shifted immediately to the boy standing quietly to the side.

"And you must be Lucifer."

Lucifer bowed slightly and said with perfect manners, "Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm Lucifer Morningstar."

Lady Greengrass received letters from her elder daughter nearly every week. In the beginning, they were filled with Daphne's longing for home and affection for her family. She always asked after 'her mother''s health and showed concern for Astoria's condition.

But after that one time Daphne had asked for money, something about the tone of her letters began to shift.

What had once been heartfelt family correspondence gradually turned into something more like "The Chronicles of Lucifer Morningstar at Hogwarts".

The name "Lucifer" started appearing so frequently, it easily outnumbered any mention of Lady Greengrass or Astoria combined.

From that point on, Lady Greengrass's curiosity was piqued--who exactly was this Lucifer Morningstar, that had charmed her daughter into such starry-eyed fangirl?

Now, meeting the boy in person, she couldn't help but nod in approval.

Well, what else did she expect? She was her daughter's mother, after all--naturally the girl had good taste. Just from a glance, she could tell this young man was probably the best-looking one in all of Hogwarts.

'Wait a minute...Those galleons Daphne had asked for... don't tell her they all ended up spent on this kid? Eh. It wasn't a lot, nothing to lose sleep over....'

What Lady Greengrass didn't know, however, was that not only had she guessed correctly... she'd also underestimated the damage.

It wasn't just her money---little Astoria's allowance had also been swallowed up by a certain someone's bottomless pockets.

After those 'very few' polite exchanges, Lady Greengrass found herself growing even more fond of this well-mannered boy. She gave a warm invitation, saying, "Lucifer, why not join us for Christmas? Daphne's said so many times in her letters that without your help, she'd never have made such progress this term. Even Astoria's so lively at home. Besides, maybe you can help me keep her in check----'heavens know' I've long since lost the reins when it comes to that girl."

"Mum!" Daphne cried out, cheeks puffed in embarrassment. Why was her mother exposing her like that? She had worked so hard to maintain a graceful and elegant image in front of Lucifer, and now it was all in ruins!'

Still, her eyes glinted as she looked at the boy, full of renewed hope. She'd been turned down before, but... maybe this time he'd change his mind?

Unfortunately, Lucifer smiled apologetically and shook his head, "I'm terribly sorry, ma'am, but I'm afraid I won't be able to this holiday. I have already made arrangements with someone else---since we just shifted to a new place, I have lots of things in needing my attention... Maybe some day in the future, I'll visit. Might even stay quite a while. That is, if you don't get sick of me."

"Of course not," Lady Greengrass replied with a gentle smile. "The longer you stay, the better. My doors are always open."

She was probably talking about their estate in Bath, Somerset.

Lucifer nodded graciously, then excused himself so mother and daughter could enjoy their reunion in peace, not just Hermione's visits, but going to different continents, a realm management entirely....

There were countless souls who needed "his treatment." Besides, it was Daphne's own battle to make a certain Slytherin friend of hers in giving her attention.

Then, he turned and went back to finish his breakfast, before going back to Library to do some light reading.

While he was reading through a book Lucifer was sure, he would find this Flamel eventually, so he began to wonder, if Hermione would like the gift, that he asked for Maze to procure, besides he already missed her birthday.

----Lucifer clearly remembered their talk before sleeping one night.

xxxxxx

1 Extra Chapter - 200 Power Stones