Lucifer, Amenadiel....Both of them, were just standing quietly in the lift, waiting for just the door to be opened. No one was much interested to initiate a conversation, looked very poison-like family.
'Beep!'
"You are on Firs---You are on Fi---"
There was a mechanical sound, it reached both of their ears, only Lucifer was now having a bad feeling,
Phew! Finally, the door was opened.
"....." Lucifer, "The fuck.....?" he couldn't help but whisper, after seeing this ridiculous sight.
It's just like a Dangerous Warfield here....every single item...his bed....Piano's Keys... Rare collection of drinks... Glass panes....
"You had a visitor..."
"...." Amenadiel, "Oh, well I just...yeah. Lucifer, how about we just talk downstairs?"
xxxxxx
Moments Later....
"Let me clear this up first, Meeting you....here is not a pleasure at all!"
"....." Amenadiel, "I just came to request..."
Lucifer snorted in disgust, then looked towards the Big guy, sitting across from him, "Let me guess...Go back to the Underworld....Sorry to be disappointed, but I can't do it...."
"Yeah, Lucifer's calendar has been thrown outside, from the wind---"
"Mazikeen...keep quiet!" Lucifer directly glared at this demon, who might have been responsible for most of the damage.
"W-what?! It's obviously Amenadiel's mistake for being so rough!" Maze just tried to look pathetic, and threw the blame away, they obviously fought cause of being natural enemies, not had intercourse like he thought. She couldn't understand, why am I being lectured?!
She was obviously a loyal demon.
"Let's move ahead of this, you really don't know, why you have changed into... a child?" Amenadiel was really very dumbfounded, by this shocking outcome, not for Lucifer being so young, but, it really happened just like, Father said!
"Oh, bloody hell...Do I have to repeat this again?!" Lucifer just sighed, and relaxed his back, even more on this comfy sofa, to be honest he really didn't know, why this occurred.
"No, it's just....I am really confused, Lucifer...this didn't happen in your past vacations, but why now?" Even though, Amenadiel had a pretty good idea, he did his utter best to look innocent.
"Never.... Besides, I am tired of playing a role in Dad's pla-"
"Lucifer! I am warning you to disrespecting our Father once again!"
Amenadiel's tone changed in an instant, directly giving such impolite threats on Lucifer's face, who just took a sip of his Orange juice, then opened his mouth, in a quirky manner, "Well, our Father has been disrespecting me, since the beginning of Time....So, Quad cattle, don't you think?!"
After saying his part, Lucifer just smiled at Amenadiel, daring him to blow up, "YOU are a mockery of everything Divi-"
"Thank you...." But, Lucifer cut him off in the middle of this very beautiful sentence, and patted his chest.
"....." Amenadiel, stood up directly from his seat, while ruining this very expensive tableware, spreading multiple glasses of drink, leaving stains, "This talk is going nowhere. Explain about the child, you were...hugging on Platform?" he tried to change their focus.
"Oh, you mean, Hermione Granger...."
"????" Amenadiel, was now really grateful, that Lucifer couldn't see his face right now, because this name was very familiar. 'I was ordered by Father to save a girl's life....Hermione Granger, two years ago....of this Earth....'
'Could it be...'
'The Girl, I blessed... definitely wouldn't be a normal human...'
Indeed, even though Hermione Granger was only eleven years old, according to humans but, in reality.... she's very much more, her brain has grown tremendously over these past two years....
xxxxxx
"Why don't you just pay a visit to the Silver City.....?"
"This won't change anything! Besides, what's going to happen? You can't rule Hell in this state..."
Amenadiel turned over, glanced at Lucifer who didn't seem to be much interested in his pep talk, "All those Demon's....those tormented souls...what do you think is going to happen, if The Devi-"
"Don't know....Don't care, not my problem, broth-"
'Thud...Flap! Flap!'
Amenadiel walked at such a fast pace, directly manifesting his dark grey wings, a bright sheen on them.
His wings were extraordinarily powerful, giant, and have very sharp edges, but at the moment, they were currently placed at Lucifer's throat, who didn't even match Amenadiel's narrowed gaze, instead he waved towards Maze to just sit back down.
Then, Lucifer just chuckled lightly, "Go on...try it..." he really didn't seem to be taking Amenadiel's threats seriously at all.
'Flap! Flap!'
"Just like I thought...." he rubbed the place around his neck, those finger tips glowed slightly, making those red marks just fade away.
"Only, because you are in this state, I am 'Very Merciful'....Until Lucifer Morningstar can't go back, I will be taking his place!"
Amenadiel then looked upwards, but not at the wall, his eyes very dark, and, then made such an ominous declaration....as if he was talking to the higher being, God.
"Since, you are doing this.." Lucifer has now also stood up, from his very comfy seat, and directly looked at Amenadiel's back, with a scrutinizing..."For how much longer, Dad's planning to hide this Wizarding World from me...? You knew about them, right?"
"Lucifer....."
"Amenadiel, give me your locket...."
"???"
"I don't like to repeat myself..."
xxxxxx
One never realized how little readily available information, there actually was on 'Merlin the Great.'
Lucifer had found information, no doubt, but finding anything outside of Merlin's last name being Ambrosius; the Order of Merlin and what it originally represented; King Arthur Pendragon; and how great Merlin was at Magic was like trying to find a piece of hay in a needle-stack.
It was painful and bore no results, even from Grindelwald.
And, it wasn't that he was unwilling to give a full dose--or even more to Hermione's cousin, Snow. He simply wanted the transformation to happen gradually, after she was physically ready to undergo.
Sudden, overwhelming energy could get her family noticed, dissected, and studied by the wrong people.
This was precisely why the Wizarding world strictly forbade magical items from leaking into the 'Muggle world.' In recent years, Muggle research had reached a point that made wizards uneasy---'sometimes even fearful.'
The Ministry of Magic might not have the best solutions, but when it came to enforcing a blanket ban, they excelled. The restrictions now were so extreme that----
....even marrying a Muggle didn't grant the right to reveal the existence of Wizarding world or one's identity as a wizard. Only when a child received their Hogwarts letter would the family be formally counted within Wizarding community.
Lucifer had no intention of caring about such rules though.
The next morning, he took a "bus" to city center, entered Leaky Cauldron, and from there slipped into Diagon Alley. The place was bustling---he spotted quite a few familiar faces from Hogwarts, some of whom nodded to him in passing.
He made his way to 'Twilfitt and Tatting's', picked out a summer robe that cost a whopping twenty Galleons, changed into it on the spot, and then strolled past Gringotts, turning into a narrow alley tucked beside the bank.
This alley was tight and winding---barely wide enough for three people to walk side by side. Lucifer walked for five full minutes before the path opened up again.
Well... "opened up" was a bit generous.
Compared to the spacious Diagon Alley, this street was barely half as wide. The buildings were grimy and falling apart, their crooked signs dangling by rusty chains. The sky above seemed murkier here, as though even sunlight was hesitant to touch this place.
This was Knockturn Alley--'the black market of the wizarding world.'
The place where all things "inconvenient" to sell found a home.
Lucifer rubbed his face, adjusted his expression, and stepped forward. He glanced around with a panicked look, like a small wizard who had accidentally wandered into a bad neighborhood.
Though called an "alley," Knockturn Alley was more like a spiderweb of narrow corridors. Offshoots and side-paths branched off everywhere, and many of the storefronts were shuttered tight----
As Lucifer passed by one particular shopfront, he saw a sign that read "Potions and Curios." Below it dangled two real human bones.
His face lit up instantly, then hearing footsteps coming towards him, Lucifer's face "paled" 'Just great. I look like I got, myself lost now, right?'
"Lost, are we, dearie?" came a sudden voice from nearby.
Lucifer turned. A hunched old witch stood before him, holding a tray full of---were those 'dead fingernails?' She gave him a grin, revealing teeth stained green with moss.
He suppressed a shudder and smiled with forced relief, "Yes! Exactly! I got lost--I was trying to find my way back to Diagon Alley!"
"Hehe... well then, come along with me, child. I'll take you there."
The old hag's smile twisted into something even more grotesque. She waved a bony hand and led him forward. They wound their way deeper into the alley, turned down several twisting lanes, and finally stopped before a door.
"Go through here, and you'll be back on the right path," she cooed, gesturing for him to enter.
Without hesitation, Lucifer pushed the door open and stepped inside. He found himself in a shabby courtyard. A grizzled 'middle-aged wizard' was already there, clearly startled by the boy's sudden entrance. The old witch followed behind, now wearing a smug, dead-eyed expression.
"Lucky day," She rasped. "Ran into a clueless little chick who lost his way. Judging by that coat, he's from money. This'll be a nice score..."
The man grinned immediately. But what confused them both was that Lucifer didn't look afraid at all. In fact, he... 'smiled?'
The man glanced at the old witch. "You didn't bring back a 'simpleton', did you?"
"I swear he was acting totally normal just now!"
Lucifer beamed. "Relax. I'm not stupid. I'm just... 'happy."
The man scowled, "Happy? Kid, do you not understand what's going on? Start talking. Who's your family? Give us their names. We'll send a 'ransom."
Lucifer just shook his head, "No, no. I'm happy because--this trip's already a success for curing my boredome. Here, let me send her to see my parents now... 'Mazikeen, do you mind?"
......
Pathetic.
That was Lucifer's first impression. These two had clearly been doing 'shady business' in the black market, yet this was all they had to show for it?
Then again, maybe this was just how things were at the bottom of Wizarding world. Whatever their relationship, it was pretty obvious that neither of them had ever graduated from 'Hogwarts'--or at least not through official means.
Sure, most magical children in Britain attended Hogwarts, but there were always exceptions. Admission required a magical outburst before age eleven, something that could be tracked by Hogwarts' 'magical registry.
'----But what about those whose first magical surge came 'after' they turned eleven?'
For them, there were always shortcuts-'those sketchy crash'-course training programs in magic. And that's exactly where people like this ended up.
No diploma, no real skill, no connections. All they could do was scramble at the margins, living off 'back-alley deals' and dark spells.
Of the two, the old witch had clearly been the stronger one. Dark magic practically seeped from her pores, twisting even her physical appearance. The man had seemed far more 'ordinary' by comparison.
Lucifer tested their wands--turns out, the man's wand worked slightly better for him. The old witch's wand nearly caused magical backlash when he tried it---almost like the wand itself 'rejected' him.
----The man's wand wasn't ideal, but at least it was usable. Still, compared to Lucifer's own wand? Not even close.
But that was precisely why he'd done all this.
xxxxxx
'Ding-dong!'
The bell over the door chimed as Lucifer---now wearing appearance of a middle-aged wizard--pushed open the entrance to 'Borgin and Burkes.'
His eyes scanned shelves-withered hands, blood-stained cards, glass jars with unmoving eyeballs, and various human bones. He felt like he'd come to visit a fortune-teller Grandma.
Not a single item here could legally be brought into Hogwarts.
"Ah, a customer!" A door creaked open behind the counter.
Out stepped a hunched, skeletal man who paused at the sight of, Lucifer, then let out a chuckle, "Laddie, did you finally strike it rich somewhere and come spend it all here with me?"
Lucifer's eyes flicked from the merchandise to the shopkeeper, "Don't play dumb. You know I'm not him."
He turned to face the man squarely, "Mr. Borgin, let's not pretend. We're just buyer and seller. If we skip the games, we'll both save ourselves a lot of effort."
Borgin blinked in surprise, then quickly broke into a 'practiced', merchant's smile.
"Well spoken, sir. Laddie was a dime-a-dozen street rat--he never had your poise. Honestly, if it weren't for that 'old witch' always watching his back, the Knockturn Alley thugs would've gutted him long ago."
Lucifer gave a slight nod. "That old witch won't be coming around anymore. No need to 'worry."
At that, Borgin's smile deepened.
"Well then! What an honor to serve a true 'gentleman'. Just yesterday, I received a fresh shipment of goods. Fair prices, guaranteed."
Lucifer leaned forward, voice calm and clear, "I need a fresh or well-preserved dragon heart, and a sphinx's eyes and claws."
The smile froze on Borgin's face.
"...A 'fresh' dragon heart? Sir, are you aware how many laws have to be broken just to 'obtain' that?"
Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "If it were legal, why would I be 'asking' you?"
Borgin was momentarily speechless.
Sure, there were dragon hearts sitting right out in the open--Snape had one in his office, and Ollivander used dragon heartstring to 'craft' wands--but that was them.
Snape was a Potions Master. Ollivander, a 'wandmaking legend.
If a dragon died from 'natural' causes, or was put down for being too dangerous, those were the types of people who could acquire its remains without issue. But for the average wizard? Not a chance.
"Well... you 'certainly' have refined tastes," Borgin muttered with a sigh. "I do have some sphinx eyes and claws in stock, but as for a dragon heart? I don't even have a dried one, let alone fresh."
Lucifer's brows knit together.
"...However," Borgin quickly added, to save his client, "if I do ever get news of one, I could acquire it for you--or act as a broker, for a 'reasonable' fee."
"How much for the eyes and claws?"
"Five hundred Galleons. One pair of eyes, one pair of claws. Matching set."
Five hundred?! That was robbery. For reference, a unicorn horn--an equally rare and magical item-usually sold for under 'onehundred' Galleons. A sphinx was rare, yes, but not that much rarer. The price was easily double what it should've been.
Then again... this was the 'black market. If it wasn't extortionate, it wouldn't be called black.
"How much will the 'dragon heart' cost me, anyway?"
Borgin thought for a moment, then held up three fingers, "Three thousand Galleons."
A full dragon corpse was worth anywhere between fifteen and thirty thousand Galleons on the open market. Blood, hide, 'meat--every' part of the creature could be harvested and sold.
The heart, being the core component, was naturally one of the 'most valuable.'
Lucifer did some quick math. Last time, he'd only managed to swipe about 'one-fifth of a dragon heart' from Snape's office. A full heart should last you a long time. He nodded.
"Fair price...But, I am not in need of dragon heart, or sphinx."
Borgin's face fell instantly. What was that supposed to mean? To him, it sounded less like business, and more like... getting to know how prices work. 'Extortion of information.'
"I've heard..." Lucifer ignored Borgin's ever-changing expressions, idly rubbing his fingers together.
"Mr. Borgin's shop doesn't just deal in goods. You also dabble in intelligence... and certain 'off the record commissions', don't you?"
Credit where it's due--he had to thank that seventh-year, Siswell Borgin. If the guy hadn't accidentally let things slip during a conversation, Lucifer wouldn't have drawn up his entire plan of finding fun in advance.
He'd made the decision early: these next few days would be spent entirely around 'Borgin and Burkes.'
Working as a mercenary here wasn't about earning gold; it was 'real-world 'combat experience against Wizards.'
As Borgin kept quiet, Lucifer's gaze flicked toward the shop, curious to look if there were any items worth spending galleons on, his eyes momentarily fixated on a runes enchanted Cabinet tucked away in the corner. It gave him an ominous feeling....
Borgin studied the 'Laddie-disguised' Lucifer with a deep, measuring look.
"Seems like you came on a 'friend's' recommendation..."
After all, not just anyone knew about Borgin's intelligence network and freelance operations. Only wizards he approved of--ones with skill and discretion-ever caught wind of such things.
His curiosity about Lucifer's real identity grew deeper, but he wasn't stupid enough to start digging.
Lucifer smiled coolly. "Then, in honor of that 'mutual friend', give me a few jobs. Short-term, nearby, high payout."
"What about difficulty?" Borgin asked.
"Difficulty?" Lucifer smirked. "As long as you're not asking me to assassinate Dumbledore, anything else is all the same to me."
'What an ego!' Borgin was stunned. He could clearly sense that bold, unwavering confidence-so brazen it bordered on arrogance. To this guy, aside from Dumbledore, no one was worth 'considering.'
But Lucifer wasn't just talking big.
"As it happens," Borgin's practiced smile returned, "there is a particularly 'tricky' commission. I've been debating whether to take it... but since you seem so confident, why don't you give it a try?"
"What's the job?" Lucifer asked with genuine curiosity.
Borgin pulled out a sheet of silver paper, "One of my longtime clients, Mr. Rouse, has gotten himself into trouble. He's currently being hunted by 'International Aurors.' The commission: help him escape the UK. The reward is 1,000 Galleons."
International Aurors?
Lucifer blinked. This was no petty mission. The International Confederation of Wizards was the largest and 'most influential' wizarding organization in the world. Every magical government was a member.
While the Confederation didn't meddle in domestic affairs, it had its own military enforcement branch that could override borders and carry out 'cross-country' arrests.
If someone was being hunted by them, they had to be one hell of a character. Lucifer's curiosity was piqued, "Mind telling me what exactly Mr. Rouse did?"
Borgin sighed. "He made a mistake... one all men are prone to. He slept with the 'wrong woman."
"And that woman was...?"
"The wife of the International Auror Department's Deputy Minister."
"..." Lucifer. So this happened when a man couldn't keep it in his pants---led around by his 'little wand' until his whole life went up in flames.
Still, he decided to take the job. Rouse didn't seem like some depraved Dark wizard; more like a guy caught in a tragic romance. Lucifer had a soft spot for 'star-crossed lovers'. He couldn't bear to watch fate stomp all over people's hearts.
"I'll take it. How's the payment work--will the client give it to me, or you? And how do I find him?"
Borgin pushed the silver slip across the counter, "The gold is already deposited in an unmarked Gringotts vault. Once 'Rouse is safely' out of the UK, your mission's considered complete. I'll send you the vault number and password then."
"Burn this silver paper and it'll portkey you close to the client. Move fast--I doubt he can hold out much longer."
Lucifer nodded, picked up the paper, and left. From Knockturn Alley to Diagon Alley, out through the Leaky Cauldron, he used Igri's Shadowing and appeared back at Lux.
----There, he stashed his own wand and headed to bedroom's cabinet, retrieving a Tom Cat mask and strapping it onto his face.
He wasn't done using "Laddie" yet. Couldn't afford to blow the disguise on this mission. As the silver paper burned, Lucifer felt an invisible hook latch onto his bellybutton.
His feet lifted off the ground, and he was swept forward through a torrent of 'icy wind'. The landscape blurred around him---shapes and colors streaking past--until it all melted into a blinding white light.
He didn't know how long he flew, but eventually, he was yanked from that speeding state by an overwhelming magical resistance. His feet landed roughly on the forest floor.
It was a dense woodland. Where, exactly, he couldn't say--probably a county somewhere north of London. He was still in England, that was certain. Lucifer glanced at the silver paper. Just a corner remained unburned.
So, he hadn't reached the exact location. Some kind of 'anti-Apparition' and 'portkey ward' had intercepted him.
Still, he couldn't be far. From deep within the forest, he could hear explosions and and high-pitched crackle of spells tearing through air.
After casting a 'Feather Light' Charm on himself, Lucifer sprinted toward the sounds of battle. He didn't have to run long before he found the scene.
Three male wizards were ganging up on another man. Off to the side stood a female Auror, clearly covering the perimeter.
Lucifer didn't rush in. First, he took a good look at the man under siege. Frankly? He wasn't much to look at. Not particularly handsome. Short, stocky build -maybe 5'9" at most. Probably shorter than 'Lady Greengrass herself.'
'This guy? This guy was the one sleeping with the Deputy Minister's wife?' Lucifer couldn't help but doubt whether he had the right man.
Rouse, meanwhile, was barely holding on. He was flinging counter-curses in desperation, and the alchemical trinkets on his robes were glowing one after another, magical items used for combat. Expensive ones.
The attackers had spotted Lucifer. The female Auror, clearly most relaxed among them, raised her wand defensively and shouted, "International Auror business. Step away, this has nothing to do with you!"
Lucifer ignored her. Instead, he called out to the embattled man, "Mr. Rouse, is that you?"
"Yes! That's me!" the man yelled, ducking another curse, "You with the old guy? Man! You're a lifesaver!"
Reinforcements?! The Aurors instantly grew wary. Sensing the shift, Lucifer didn't hesitate--he whipped up his wand and launched several spells.
The three Aurors, already on alert, quickly cast 'Shield Charms' to block his assault. But their offensive had been disrupted.
"Friends," Lucifer said calmly, striding into the clearing, "do me a favor. Let Mr. Rouse leave Britain in peace."
Rouse quickly backed toward Lucifer But when they were still about twenty paces apart, he raised a hand to stop him. In this line of work, rule number one: 'Never trust anyone.'
Not even the client. A pudgy wizard, gasping for breath, glared at Lucifer with undisguised hostility.
"You want to end up a fugitive like him, wizard? Turn around now, and I'll pretend you were never here."
Lucifer sighed, "I really hate to mess with law enforcement... but Mr. Rouse is 'paying far too well." In love story.
"That's the spirit, bro!" Rouse shouted from behind a smokescreen of spells, "I love a man who values money above all else!"
There was no more room for words. Once Lucifer made his position clear, the four Aurors sprang into action without hesitation. Streaks of red light-like laser beams-cut through the thick forest mist....
The female Auror, originally on support duty, moved to engage Lucifer, while the other three stayed locked onto Rouse. He casually flicked his wand and deflected her first spell.
"That's it?" he asked, genuinely puzzled, "You're an Auror?"
Compared to Snape's attacks, this was child's play---so weak, in fact, that Lucifer had unconsciously used too little power. His return spell overshot and didn't follow the precise arc he'd planned, missing the other Aurors entirely.
"Are you 'insulting me?!" the female Auror roared. She had expected a duel, not verbal abuse!
"I'm just stating facts."
Lucifer responded with several more low level energy spells. She tried to mimic his earlier deflection--but 'misjudged' the force.
'Boom!'
The explosion sent her flying, her body lifting into air before slamming hard onto the forest floor. A follow-up 'Stunning Charm' whizzed toward her before she could recover.
She barely managed to roll out of the way, landing awkwardly and casting a clumsy retaliatory curse mid-roll.
Lucifer tilted his head, letting the red light whistle past, then turned his wand on a nearby tree. With a sharp upward motion, massive oak was yanked from the ground and hurled toward her.
"Confringo!" shouted a male Auror, leaping in to help. The uprooted tree exploded into splinters midair.
The tide had turned. Lucifer's power was clearly no joke, and they couldn't afford to fight him one-on-one. The four Aurors 'converged' on him, leaving Rouse momentarily unattended...
Though relieved of pressure, Rouse wasn't about to flee just yet. The 'anti-Apparition' wards were still active, and he had tracking charms all over him. If Lucifer lost, running now wouldn't make a difference.
Better to catch his breath, restore a bit of magical stamina... maybe lend a hand later.
Lucifer, however, had no intention of giving him the chance. After probing for a while, he came to a surprising conclusion, 'These four were... weak. Really weak. Had Snape lied to me?'
These so-called Aurors-were they even qualified? What Lucifer didn't know was this: people's definitions of "acceptable" vary wildly. For someone like Snape, anything below a 90 was a failure. For others, a 50 was enough to throw a celebration.
The same held 'true for Aurors.' Snape's standard was based on elites like Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mad eye Moddy, battle hardened, lethal, and legendary.
These four? Barely out of training. The oldest wasn't even thirty.
"It ends here." Lucifer, now confident he had drastically overestimated his opponents, stopped holding back, and to end this farce. The same glowing orb from his duel with Snape formed above 'his head once more.'
It launched a searing crimson beam toward the female Auror.
"Protego Maxima!"
The wave of power shattered her shield like glass. She was thrown backwards again---'this time' not getting up. The beam twisted midair like a whip, slashing toward the remaining three.
This was just one of the slightly above 'bottom lower-level' spells, compressed magic, manipulated by will alone. No flashy incantations, no gimmicks.
Pure destructive force. Even Snape had been envious, offering several of his self-created spells in exchange to learn it.
Lucifer... had gently declined.
"Individual power matters. No amount of teamwork can make up for trash foundations of yours...."
Within 2.5 seconds, the remaining three Aurors were done. He casually disarmed them, snatching their wands from midair like some collector at a 'wand-bazaar.'
Rouse stared, slack-jawed, at the unconscious bodies of International Aurors. Then at Lucifer, who now had a bouquet of stolen wands in hand. 'Where the hell did that old dog Borgin find this monster? The guy just soloed an entire Auror squad like it was a warm-up!'
"Damn, bro-you're a beast!" Rouse rushed over, grinning like an idiot.
Lucifer gave him a sideways glance, "You're white. Why do you talk like you're from the West Coast?"
"You know the West Coast?!" Rouse's eyes lit up, like he'd found a kindred spirit, "I learned from Muggle rappers! How's my flow, huh? 'Lacking. No rhythm. No soul. Aww, man. Still gotta keep grinding, huh...."
Rouse sighed, then noticed Lucifer's wand still raised and aimed, "Uh, hey, bro. We're done, right? No need to kill anyone. They were just doing their 'job, yeah?"
Lucifer tilted his head and looked at him like he was nuts, "I'd have to be insane to kill International Aurors. Even if 'you' wanted to kill them, I'd stop you."
He snorted.
"For a thousand Galleons, you want me to start a 'blood feud' with the entire International Confederation of Wizards? Who's the crazy one here---'you or me?"
Rouse opened his mouth, then closed it. Yeah, fair enough. Maybe he was pushing his luck.
"Everyone, you all heard what I just said to Mr. Rouse."
Aside from the unconscious female Auror, other three-though wounded---had already managed to climb to their feet, swaying unsteadily.
Lucifer twirled the wands in his hand and said, "Give Mr. Rouse one day. Just one day. You can use it to heal. As long as 'he leaves Britain', the rest is none of my business. How does that sound?"
The three Aurors exchanged glances. In each other's eyes, they saw the same hesitation, same struggle.
Lucifer saw the crack in their resolve and gently nudged it wider. "We're all just trying to make a living here. I'm out here risking my life for tragic romance... You guys are stuck with fixed salaries and dead-end risk pay. Why throw away your lives 'over a paycheck?"
He twirled a wand in his fingers, "But if you insist on pushing it, I'll have no choice but to break your wands."
Their expressions shifted drastically, "No! Don't-!"
"Alan, don't be stubborn now," Rouse cut in from behind Lucifer, "I just made one little mistake. Graves is the one abusing his authority here!"
"Shut it, Rouse!" growled the heavier-set Auror Alan, his face dark with fury, "You call that a little mistake? Graves was your 'professor', for Merlin's sake! And you slept with his wife!"
...What the hell?' Behind the mask, Lucifer's mouth twisted violently, his eye twitching. This was getting more and more bizarre by the second. So this Graves guy--Deputy Head of the International Auror Department--was 'Rouse's former teacher?'
"Teacher? You forget what he did to me?" Rouse exploded. "I swore I'd get back at him the day he started targeting me. You think I wanted to sleep with 'his wife?' Do you know how much effort it took to get it up for a woman who's five feet tall and weighs two hundred and ten pounds?!"
This time, even Lucifer couldn't keep a straight face. The three Aurors looked visibly uncomfortable, their expressions shifting from stunned to... reluctantly empathetic.
Alan, the pudgy Auror, seemed to picture his boss's wife for a moment, grimacing. He looked at Rouse with something that 'resembled pity.'
Still, the atmosphere had lightened.
"Fine," Alan muttered, clearly reluctant, "We accept your terms. We won't pursue Rouse today. But after that--we expect 'you' to stay out of it."
Realistically, they couldn't chase even if they wanted to---Alan's internal organs were half-displaced. He needed urgent treatment. Besides, Lucifer had a point: what were they doing risking their lives for a paycheck that 'barely scraped by?'
"Thank you for your cooperation," Lucifer said cheerfully, tossing their wands back without hesitation. He wasn't worried about betrayal--most wizards were quite afraid of death, especially the ones with 'real careers and bright futures.'
Aurors, despite their training, were no different---particularly the international ones. They were supposed to be "society's elite" not suicidal maniacs. And based on the interaction, it was pretty clear Alan and Rouse 'knew' each other.
Sure enough, as soon as he retrieved his wand, Alan levitated unconscious female Auror and slowly backed away with his comrades. Once they were out of range of the Anti-Apparition Field, they vanished with a soft crack.
Rouse exhaled in visible relief, finally dropping the act. He strode up and extended a hand warmly. "Brother, I owe you big time. If it weren't for you, I'd be on my way back in shackles. Name's 'Rouse Wilkinson'. And you are?"
"Laddie," Lucifer answered casually, for the time, he really was.
"Laddie it is, then!" Rouse grinned, "Old Borgin really 'is' well connected-to be able to call on someone like you."
He knew the name was probably fake, but he didn't care. He grinned wide and offered up a thick dragon-hide wallet, "A whole day? That's way more than I paid for. This is all I have on me, 'brother--take it', even if it's not much...."
Lucifer didn't take the wallet. Instead, he looked at him curiously. "You're a fugitive now. Don't you need some cash for the road? What'll you do without it?"
Rouse laughed breezily. "Ah, it's nothing. My destination's Germany. I've got relatives over there. And the German Ministry and International Confederation of Wizards don't get along, so the Aurors can't touch me once I'm there."
Lucifer nodded thoughtfully. Pure-bloods really were something else, always had relatives in high places, no matter the country.
Especially in America, where all the pure-bloods were immigrants from somewhere else. You never knew who was from the main branch or a 'side family'.
But this was the first time he'd heard about friction between German Ministry and the Confederation.
Suddenly, Lucifer said, "You've still got a Tracking Charm on you, don't you? I can remove it for you."
"Seriously?" Rouse' face lit up-but then he hesitated, "I... I don't have any money left. What if I transfer it to you from Gringotts once I get to Germany? Have Borgin collect it---'safe and secure."
"That works," Lucifer nodded, smiling, "But you have to agree to one more thing."
"What's that?" Rouse' brow furrowed.
"I want to hear the whole story, between you and Deputy Minister."
"No problem!" Rouse lit up immediately, clearly proud of the tale he was about to tell. And as he spoke, Lucifer began to understand the full context of the drama he'd just stumbled into.
Rouse Wilkinson, graduate of Ilvermorny.
The feud between him and Graves went back 'generations-beginning' with their families. The American wizarding world had once been governed by twelve original Aurors---the first magical immigrants to the continent. After their deaths, their families inherited their legacies.
Some of those families had grown into massive, influential dynasties over the centuries. The Wilkinson and Graves families were two of those twelve bloodlines, and now powerhouses in American magical hierarchy.
But not all "legacy families" were cut from the same cloth. Some hailed from Britain--like 'Abraham Potter', a member of the famous Potter line and an ancestor of 'Harry Potter' himself.
The Wilkinsons were German immigrants. The Graves were French. And those two nations... well, anyone with a brain knew what that meant.
Their blood feud didn't stop just because they'd moved to a new continent. On the contrary--'it had only grown worse.'
Still, Graves hadn't initially gone out of his way to target a student. It all started because Rouse couldn't keep his mouth shut. One time, while joking with friends about 'Percival Graves', Rouse was overheard by a professor---'Robert Graves'--who just so happened to be Percival's grandson.
Yes--that 'Percival Graves'. The same one whose identity was stolen and impersonated by Gellert Grindelwald back in the day.
Grindelwald, in an oddly chivalrous move, had spared 'Percival's life'---maybe out of respect for Albus Dumbledore, whose own middle name was also Percival.
All this data came from, the Dark Wizard himself. But when the truth eventually came out and 'Graves' was rescued, he lived in endless shame.
The trauma ate at him for years--he even began to question whether his son was truly his, given that his wife had become pregnant during the time he was being 'impersonated'.
And Robert Graves? No way he was letting 'Rouse' off the hook.
Relying on his status as a professor and his equally noble lineage, Robert began ruthlessly 'bullying Rouse'. No one could've expected that Rouse, who had always endured in silence, would wait until graduation... and then secretly sleep with 'Robert's wife'.
And he didn't just stop there--he even left a handwritten note for Robert: "Rest assured, your son is definitely your son."
If Robert could tolerate that, he wouldn't be a 'man' at all. He slapped Rouse with a random charge and mobilized the International Auror network to hunt him down.
Lucifer, upon hearing this chaotic tale, could only marvel at the tangled web of 'relationships.'
Still, there was one thing he was now sure of: Robert's father was most certainly a 'true' Graves by blood---after all, Gellert Grindelwald had said, he had long given his heart to some woman, he didn't say the name of.
----Lucifer knew the man was lying, or hiding something, but he didn't push too much. Once his thirst for gossip was satisfied, he kept his word and cast an Anti-Tracking Charm on Rouse, canceling out the trace left by the 'International Aurors.'
Rouse immediately felt lighter, and after thanking Lucifer profusely, the two finally parted ways.
The next day, using Laddie's appearance, he returned to 'Borgin and Burkes.'
"Ah, there you are!"
Borgin greeted him with his signature plastic smile, "Mr. Wilkinson couldn't stop praising you. Here's your payment---and an extra '500' Galleons. I've advanced it on his behalf."
Lucifer didn't stand on the ceremony and took the money. With that, he'd already gathered half the funds, he'd spent in the last week, "Mr. Borgin," he asked, "any more jobs like that?"
"None for the time being." Borgin shook his head. "Clients like Mr. Wilkinson are rare. Most jobs now are either long-term or involve 'exploring ancient ruins'---high risk, unstable returns."
Lucifer nodded, "If anything comes up, send word to Laddie's address."
"Of course," Borgin replied with a smile.
With that assurance, he left Knockturn Alley and turned his attention back to Muggle world.
He pulled a few strings to help "Laddie" get a National Insurance Number and driver's license--basically Muggle equivalent of an identity card in the UK.
Lucifer couldn't wait to ride his 1962, 'Chevrolet Corvette, C1!'
1 Extra Chapter - 200 Power Stone's!
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Author's Note
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