"Time to split up the duo I believe.." Snape said with a wicked grin, "Weasley, pair off with Finnegan," he turned to Harry, "Potter, you pair with Malfoy. Malfoy, come here, see what you make of the famous Potter."
Then, he turned his gaze to Lucifer, boy defiant of Snape, tried to pair with Hermione, but he was quick on splitting them up as well, "I don't think so. Miss Granger, you'll pair with Miss Bulstrode. Morningstar, you'll be with 'Zabini."
Lucifer followed his gaze, there was a tall, black boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes moving towards his direction."Blaise Zabini, let's have a nice duel," he said kindly.
"Yeah, likewise..." Lucifer not responding much, his gaze fixed on Hermione's battle as they got into position to try out the Disarming Charm.
Then, oddly, Zabini smiled at him clearly hoping to see the boy falter under pressure.
The two stepped back, raised their wands, and bowed formally.
With a sharp cry, Zabini sprang into action immediately. His steps were swift, incantations flowing smoothly from his mouth.
"Protego Totalum!"
"Expelliarmus!"
First came a glimmering shield, wrapping his body in translucent protection. Then a streak of red light shot forward---fast and aggressive-headed straight for Lucifer.
It was instantly clear: Zabini wasn't just some pampered pure-blood. He had a real dueling experience. His spellwork was crisp, efficient-clearly well-trained.
That was the advantage pure-bloods held over Muggle-borns and half-bloods: generations of magical heritage. Centuries of combat training, family knowledge, and tradition.
That was the true power of legacy.
But Lucifer---
Lucifer was something else.
With a subtle flick, he deflected the 'Disarming Charm' effortlessly. Then, with a twist of his wrist, he pointed his wand downward.
The once solid floor turned fluid beneath Zabini's feet, rippling like waves. Just as he prepared to cast again, he stumbled---nearly falling before quickly muttering a hardening spell to steady the ground.
But it was already too late.
Lucifer's next spell struck. A seemingly unimpressive 'Obstruction Curse' crashed into Zabini's magical shield-yet, to everyone's shock who were looking, the barrier shattered instantly.
Blaise Zabini backed away, and a flurry of glowing embers burst forth from the air---hot coals, enchanted and aflame, hurtling toward his opponent. A clever move. On unstable footing, targeted spells were harder to land. Wide-range curses were far more effective.
"Tempestus." A sudden gale surged through the room. The wind roared, wild and uncontrollable.
The coals reversed mid-air, swept back toward Zabini who gasped and dove away, but two of the burning chunks struck him hard. He winced in pain, clutching at his side.
Lucifer's eyes narrowed in disappointment. 'This is the standard for a second-year pure-blood?'
He looked the part-confident, trained but moment he lost control, he panicked. No adaptability. No grit.
Just two spells, and he was already crumbling.
"Expelliarmus."
The disarming spell hit with pinpoint precision. Zabini's wand flew from his grip, spinning high in the air before landing neatly in Lucifer's outstretched hand.
And just like that---
The duel was over.
"Match concluded," Snape declared, his face expressionless. His cold gaze swept over Blaise Zabini, who was clutching his burns and wincing.
Snape was not in a good mood right now. Blaise's performance had been utterly disgraceful---so disgraceful, in fact, that even Snape, his Head of House, felt embarrassed. A trained pure blood student had been toyed with like a monkey by a muggleborn and defeated so cleanly, so completely, it was painful to watch.
He hadn't even managed to show off any of the decent skills he supposedly possessed.
This wasn't just a defeat---it was a complete intellectual and tactical annihilation.
And yet, what truly rattled Snape was the mere tip of the iceberg Lucifer Morningstar had revealed.
You couldn't judge a wizard's strength by the power of their spells alone. Mastery in casting, the ability to strategize mid-duel, and the seamless combination of different spells---all these mattered just as much.
And Lucifer? The boy had controlled the entire tempo of the duel. First, he transfigured the floor beneath Zabini's feet into a soft, unstable surface, throwing off his footing and limiting his range of movement. That not only disrupted his positioning but also reduced the accuracy of spells.
Then, with a beautiful gust charm, Lucifer effortlessly deflected Zabini's magic back at him.
Tactics like these would be impressive even coming from a grown wizard. But, he had been at Hogwarts for less than two years.
This wasn't just impressive---it was downright terrifying. What baffled Snape the most, though, was the very first move Lucifer had made-effortless way he parried Zabini's 'Disarming Charm.'
To most students, it just looked like a block, similar to a standard Shield Charm.
But amateurs watch the show. Experts watch the technique. That single move showed an intricate control of magical power and a deep understanding of the mechanics of the 'Disarming Charm.'
The precision and finesse with which Lucifer nullified it---light as a feather, consuming almost no energy-reduced the need for a full-blown shield and preserved stamina for sneak attacks or unexpected counterstrikes.
All Zabini's father's training from past years at manor, gone to dust.
"W-what are yo-"
That cry made the break of Snape and duelists thoughts.
Lucifer's eyes made past him, and saw that plus size girl Millicent Bulstrode with Hermione in a headlock. She was whimpering and had a hand extended, trying to reach for something.
He squinted and saw the necklace he got for her, being dangled in the air out of her reach. She was begging with Millicent, "Please... please... g-give it back..." Hermione was in tears from both the pain of being in a headlock and necklace that was so dear to her was being held out of her reach.
"Poor little Granger, your boyfriend isn't here to sav----uughh hah..I-I--gah...'Guh!' Millicent suddenly began choking and gasping for air.
She let go of Hermione and her necklace, both falling to the floor.
The bushy haired girl quickly gathered up her most treasured gift and looked up to see glowing red eyes across the room. Turning to look back at Millicent, whose feet are now slightly off the ground.
Gasping for air, even the face has started to turn a little purple, her eyes rolling into the back.
Snap!
One of her fingers twisted back, Hermione's face panicked when she noticed Millicent's jaw dislocating at quite insane speed, if this continued girl will likely break her neck!
Snape looked up instinctively, 'Overstepping monster...' That was the word that immediately appeared in his Slytherin mind.
Morningstar had already won. He had made his point. And yet, he still wanted more---he was challenging other students' pair. Did he intend to grind the reputation of every pure-blood and even Professor Snape into the dirt?
Clearly, he was angry at Lucifer's audacity. But Morningstar was a strong believer in equality---he had no intention of holding back just because his opponent was a girl.
Hermione quickly put her necklace in her robes pocket and hurried over to Lucifer, "Daddy," she said when she got closer, "Daddy, it's okay..." Placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to make the boy come back from his enraged senses.
"Know your damn place...."
She saw his eyes turn back to normal.
Millicent could be heard taking in big gasps of air, a few Slytherin's immediately went checking on her.
While Lucifer had his eyes closed, calming himself down, "I'm sorry..."
"Don't apologize... you helped me get this back," She said and pulled out her necklace he got for her. His eyes opened and looked at the item, and then the girl who had misty clouds in her pupils, but why, he didn't know.
Could've been out of happiness,pain she could still possibly be feeling, or out of almost losing what he got for her birthday, "Want me to tie it back on?"
"Please?" She asked and handed it to him, turning around. Hermione saw the necklace come from above her and rest on her chest.
Lucifer moved her unruly curls aside, then used his fingers to tie it around her neck once again, like a collar.
Whether or not his eyes hurt from the heat, Greengrass sister's were already sparkling. If it weren't for the crowd and Astoria, the older one Daphne, would've shouted, cheered right then and there.
[A/N: Daphne paired with Travis.]
She wasn't the only one. Quite a few older girls were now giving Lucifer a very different look.
Such a charming young cub---raise him for a couple of years and he'd become a heart-stopping heartthrob. Definitely worth the investment.
"Stop! Stop!"
They both heard Lockhart yelling across. The chaos that had been going on unknown to Hermione and him was brought to a halt with that, "Dear, dear..." Lockhart was skittering through the crowd, gazing at damage done by the incompetent duels.
"Up you go Macmillan... careful there, Miss Fawcett... pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second, Boot."
"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," he said, standing flustered in midst of the hall.
He glanced over to Snape, whose black eyes glinted in the candle light, and he looked away very quickly, it caused Ron to chuckle, "Let's have a volunteer pair---Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you---"
"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," Snape said, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat after treating Bulstrode with a strange vial leaving her mind blank, "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the Hospital Wing in a matchbox."
Neville's round, pink face managed to become even more pink.
"Anyone with a grudge, or anyone eager to test themselves, may step up and issue a challenge..." Snape's voice carried a twisted smile, "For instance... say a little conflict from a few weeks ago still needs resolving. What would you do?"
"Excellent idea!" Lockhart said without a care in the world.
The crowd parted as Draco Malfoy swaggered forward, Crabbe and Goyle pushing students aside to clear a path.
Malfoy strode onto the platform with a self important air, his wand already raised. He sneered toward Harry's side---
"Weasley. Get up here and take your beating!"
This time, Malfoy's arrogance didn't spark irritation among the other students. Quite the opposite-some even cheered loudly, clapping and egging him on.
That, in itself, was rather telling of the distinctly British atmosphere.
Popularity wasn't won by being most diligent, polite, or well-mannered student..No---'more often than' not, the admired ones were the cheeky, mischievous types who also wielded undeniable strength.
Like in Muggle schools--'basketball and football' players tended to enjoy the privilege of first choice in dating.
And at Hogwarts? One only had to look at the Marauders. James Potter, who won 'Lily's' heart. Sirius Black, who was even more popular than James during their school days--how many letters of admiration had he received?
Slytherin had always carried the reputation of cold-blooded serpents, scheming in the shadows, ready to stab you with 'some dirty trick.'
But Malfoy, right now, was different. He wasn't lurking--he was brazen, fearless, practically radiating dominance. And against 'Ron Weasley of all people?'
That swagger, that domineering confidence--people loved it!
Everyone loved it.
Everyone except Ron.
To Malfoy, Ron barely existed. He didn't even consider him an opponent. Ron, however, itched to smash his fist into Malfoy's smug face right then and there.
But with professors watching, he swallowed the urge. He wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of seeing him lose his temper.
So Ron strutted onto the stage, imitating Malfoy's air of disdain. They ended up nose-to-nose, making the crowd burst out laughing.
And most of that laughter was aimed squarely at Ron.
Malfoy's upbringing had endowed him with an aristocratic air, that ingrained a sense of superiority and polish.
Ron, on the other hand... the best word for his manner was "awkward." His attempt at swagger came off stiff and ridiculous. Even his brothers buried their faces in their hands, while Ginny hid in the crowd, cheeks burning as someone whispered, "Ginny, your brother's hilarious."
"Malfoy, dueling isn't about who can shout louder," Ron spat, trying for menace.
"You're right," Malfoy said coolly, smirking.
"In a moment, I'll make sure you are the 'onescreaming'. And trust me--you won't be able to hold it back."
...Terrible line. Lucifer's expression shifted-something about this banter felt oddly off. Hermione noticed it too. When their eyes met, both carried the same baffled look.
Alright. Clearly, they were the only two normal ones left in this madhouse of a school.
"Excellent! Full of spirit!" Lockhart boomed suddenly, cutting off the pre-duel trash talk before it veered further into absurdity.
"But words are empty. Magic speaks louder! Now-show respect to one another!"
Malfoy immediately straightened, mimicking the formal bow and wand gesture he had seen Snape demonstrate earlier. His motions were crisp, precise-'almost perfect.'
Ron, however, gave only the barest nod, a lazy bend at the waist, so half-hearted it made the professors frown.
"Weasley!" Professor Snape barked, voice like a whip. "Did you learn nothing from the lesson just moments ago? Or are you so stiff-necked you cannot bend at all?"
Ron's attitude wasn't just poor form. It was rude. 'Ill-bred. Unacceptable.'
Ron hunched his shoulders, muttering as he gave a reluctant bow. Malfoy, of course, sneered.
He didn't want to bow to Ron either. But his godfather Snape had taught him this much, the hard way, 'arrogance was something you displayed after you won, not before....
Blaise Zabini had even reminded him of his own past.
"Last year you strutted around like a little prince and got your nose broken for it... Did you learn nothing? Never celebrate too early. And remember--'if you wait for him' to pick the fight, everyone will see you as the victim, not the bully."
At the time, Malfoy had burned with shame. That stretch of weeks last year had been a living nightmare for him---taunted even by 'Slytherins'. But the lesson stuck.
People might refuse to listen to advice, but reality taught its lessons brutally well. And now, compared to an ordinary student like Ron, Malfoy stood leagues ahead.
"I will count you down. Only when I say start may you cast spells. 'Understood?"
"Understood!" both answered.
"Good. Three... two... one... BEGIN!"
The moment Lockhart finished, Ron whipped his wand upward.
"Eat slugs!" A streak of silver light burst forth, but Malfoy was faster.
"Protego!"
The curse struck the shimmering shield and ricocheted away. It hurtled toward a cluster of students, but Snape flicked his wand, dissolving the rogue spell with elegant ease.
"Protego?!" Ron's voice cracked with disbelief. "How-how can you cast the Shield Charm?!"
It was nothing unusual for an older student to master it. But Malfoy was the same age as him!
"You think everyone is as lazy and 'unmotivated' as you?" Malfoy sneered, striding forward, the shield still glowing around him.
"Tarantallegra!"
The incantation flew from his lips. Ron, forewarned, quickly darted aside, remembering from books that standing still made you a sitting target. But dodging was all he could do---he hadn't learned to cast while moving. So he hopped and scampered about the stage like a panicked monkey, earning more laughter.
Malfoy ignored the mockery, pressing forward step by step, closing the gap.
Seven paces-spells were fast. Within it they were deadly accurate. Ron panicked. If he kept retreating, he'd fall right off the stage.
"Tarantallegra!" Malfoy cried again.
This time Ron failed to dodge. His legs jerked violently, and suddenly he was capering across the platform, forced into a grotesque, clownish dance.
Malfoy strode forward, tore the wand from Ron's hand, and finally let the laughter burst free.
"Weasley, that's quite the dance! At this rate, you'd make more money 'working' in a bar than your father earns at the Ministry!"
The insult cut deep. Over the summer, his father wanted to have a brawl with Arthur Weasley in Flourish and Blotts, only to come away humiliated when even Hagrid sneered at him on th way.
Tonight, at least, he could claim revenge. He'd be sure to write to his father immediately---'perhaps even coax some' extra Galleons as a reward.
"Malfoy! Take this spell off me!" Ron shouted, face red as he flailed.
But Malfoy ignored him, looking instead at Lockhart. "Professor, does this count as a win?"
"Of course," Gilderoy said cheerfully, nodding.
"Excellent work, Mr. Malfoy. That Shield Charm was... 'impressive. You clearly have talent-keep working hard..." Snape quickly dispelled the curse on Ron, but the boy's face was crimson with humiliation.
He didn't dare linger on the stage for even a second longer. With his head down, he bolted, fleeing the Great Hall altogether.
"Thank you, Professor. I'd like to challenge the next one-'Harry Potter!" Malfoy's cold gray eyes locked on Harry, and he crooked a finger, "Potter, your dear friend Weasley collapsed after just one hit. Now it's your turn."
Draco was on a roll tonight.
Harry's face darkened, but he stepped up without hesitation. Around them, the professors encouraged other students to hurry and practice in pairs, but who could concentrate now?
The real show was happening at center stage. Most students found their partners, but their eyes never left the duel platform.
Lockhart motioned Harry over to the stage, then began to whisper and brought his wand out in a poor attempt at a 'Flourish', and dropped his wand.
Picking it back up with the grace of an armless monkey, everyone laughed at his ridiculous antics, "Whoops--my wand is a little excited."
Lucifer scrunched up his face at the poor taste of his word choice. Snape moved closer to Malfoy and began whispering, which caused him to smirk.
Hermione could only imagine what Snape had said to him.
"Scared, Potter?"
"You wish!"
Once the preliminaries were done, Professor Snape raised his wand.
"Begin!"
Malfoy instantly cloaked himself in a shimmering 'Protego Totalum-the Shield Charm.' He had been hammered relentlessly all day, and the beatings by Zabini had paid off. By feelings of desperation and fury had forced him to master the spell.
The minutes after that, he drilled himself nonstop, refining both speed and resilience of the barrier.
No one could tell how high his ceiling was---after all, the 'Malfoy family' wasn't exactly known for producing magical prodigies.
They were masters of scheming, not power. People with that kind of calculating ambition rarely reached true magical greatness. Still, for the moment, Malfoy had achieved something unusual for a 'second--year: he had crossed a line into magic far beyond his peers.
Against Harry, it gave him a clear advantage.
"Expelliarmus!"
Harry wasn't naïve. He knew his chances of winning weren't good, but lying down and accepting defeat wasn't his style. The moment Lucifer had demonstrated the Disarming Charm, Harry had felt a strange sense of familiarity with it---as though it fit perfectly 'in his hands.' If Malfoy wasn't going to attack right away, then why not test this new spell?
Even Harry hadn't expected success.
Yet with his very first try, a streak of crimson light shot from his wand, colliding with 'Malfoy's shield.'
The impact forced Malfoy back several steps, cracks spidering faintly across his barrier.
"It worked?" Harry's eyes widened with delight. He immediately tried to cast again, only this time his wand sputtered and gave a little puff of smoke.
The second spell fizzled out. Malfoy exhaled in relief. So it had been luck. Even if Potter did get a hit in, one spell wouldn't be enough to break through. 'The advantage was still mine'
Smirking, Malfoy began to toy with Harry, tossing out hexes more to humiliate than to harm.
From the side, Lucifer shook his head. He'd seen enough. As long as Malfoy didn't do something idiotic, Harry had no chance in a formal duel like this.
Watching was a waste of time. However, Professor Snape seemed to have a different opinion, he paid attention to a glue, instead of thinking better to guide other students. He found it more worthwhile to watch 'Potter' struggle against Malfoy.
But then----
"Serpensortia!"
A chorus of screams erupted from the spectators.
From the tip of Malfoy's wand exploded a burst of light. Out of it slithered a long, sinuous black serpent, landing with a heavy thud between the two boys.
Students shrieked and stumbled back, clearing a wide circle around the duel.
"Careful, Potter!" Malfoy laughed gleefully, "Wouldn't want to get eaten!" He savored the moment, prolonging it. Why end the duel quickly when he could watch Potter squirm?
Draco had learned it over the summer, the most dangerous spell in his arsenal, and now---'finally-it had a stage.'
Under his command, the serpent's eyes locked only on Harry. Yet he didn't flinch. Snakes had never frightened him. In fact, there was something oddly familiar, even comforting, about them.
He remembered his childhood trips to the zoo---how he'd been drawn to that massive 'boa constrictor.' But ever since meeting Malfoy and seeing the way Slytherins reveled in cruelty, that comfort had soured into distaste.
The snake raised its head, like it was preparing to strike, and most students let out screams and backed away.
Still, Harry didn't know how to get rid of the conjured serpent. Instinctively, he shouted at it---
And to everyone else, it wasn't English that burst from his lips. It was a chilling hiss: "Sssstop!"
The black snake froze mid-strike, swaying uncertainly, caught between advancing and retreating.
Gasps filled the hall.
"Don't move Potter," Hermione heard Snape say lazily, like it was a serious inconvenience for him, "I'll get rid of it for yo---"
"Allow me!" Lockhart brandished his wand and pointed it right at the snake. There was a loud bang and the snake flew up into the air.
Lucifer's eyes followed the snake and back down to the floor of the Dueling platform. It was obviously angered by this and lashed out at the closest student, which happened to be 'Justin Finch-Fletchley.'
It's fangs were exposed and it was poised to strike. Lucifer was broken from trance when he heard a hissing to 'his right.' He looked at Harry and really still couldn't believe his ears.
He was the one hissing at the Snake.
Lucifer looked back at the reptile and it was backing off from Justin, but something unexpected happened. When it caught sight of him, it didn't hesitate as it lunged straight for 'him!'
Hermione suddenly saw the Snake burst into flames midair, the ashes flying off with the wind that was caused by a few opened windows.
"Just what are you getting at, Potter?!"
She heard Justin ask him with a growl.
"What about Morningstar? His eyes just glowed red and the snake burst into flames!" An older Ravenclaw made others notice the huge surprise. Justin angrily stormed out of the hall, whole loud murmurs could be heard.
Professor Snape quickly raised his wand and charmed his own modified 'Soothingspell' into the big room, to calm down these panicking students.
"That will do, Mr. Malfoy. You've hogged this platform long enough. Let the others have their turn."
Malfoy scowled, glaring daggers at Harry as he left the stage. He hadn't expected things to turn this way. If he'd known, he never would have used that spell. 'Damn it---Potter was a Parseltongue.'
The very gift that should have made Malfoy shine had been twisted into a spotlight for his rival.
As Harry stepped down, the crowd parted like water, leaving him in a bubble of silence. Whispers followed him, their eyes wary, some even fearful.
"Harry! You're a Parselmouth?" Fred and George Weasley pounced on him, slinging arms over his shoulders.
"A what?" Harry blinked in confusion.
George grinned slyly. "Don't play 'dumb'. You spoke to the snake. Everyone heard you!"
Hermione clutched on Lucifer's arm tightly and dragged him towards those three to listen, "You mind?"
Lucifer rolled his eyes, and cast the spell to curb wandering ears. The five of them were soon in a fierce battle of questions, almost throwing Harry into a molten pot of lava, "Yes, why didn't you tell us?!"
She repeated the question, as if her words carried more power, and compulsion for the boy to start talking.
"I'm a what?" Harry asked stupidly with the tinge of being irritated, obviously confused.
"I'm sure if he knew, Weaselys, Granger, he'd have told us," Lucifer said, diverting his attention to Harry, "A Parselmouth is someone who can talk to snakes 'fluently'. They all didn't understand you because of not being able to speak Snake's language...."
"Lucifer is right, all I heard was a hissing coming from you, Harry!" Hermione said this while giving the boy whose arm she was holding onto a curious look, noticing his strange wordings.
"Well, I knew I could talk to snakes, sort of," Harry tried to be a little humble, "that was the second time I've done it, though. The first time I set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the Zoo. It was telling me it had never seen Brazil and wanted to go...."
"A p-parselmouth....?!"
"I don't even know what you're 'talking about!" Harry protested, exasperated. Can somebody listen to his own life's story? "And why is everyone acting like I've grown a 'second head?' Does it have something to do with this Parsel-whatever?"
The twins exchanged a glance, realizing Harry was genuinely clueless. Lowering his voice, George explained, "You told that snake to stop, didn't you? That's Parseltongue, snake speech. It means you can talk to serpents, maybe even control them."
Fred whistled. "It's a rare ability. But here's the catch: most wizards who had it... 'weredark wizards'. Almost all of them came from Slytherin."
Harry's stomach dropped. No wonder everyone was avoiding him, "Then the glass magically disappeared and snake left after thanking me, but this was before I knew I was a Wizard..."
He then tried to shrug, but his legs shook a bit cause of the new sense of dread, "What the hell?! I don't see big deal, I bet loads of people can do it. You might not know everything, Fred and George!"
"No, Harry, it's not a common gift. Oh this is bad..."
"Why?" Harry enquired before saying something else, "Why are you freaking out, girl? If I hadn't said anything to that Snake, it would have attacked Justin..."
"You told it to stop?" Hermione asked with a surprised look, "It sounded like you were 'egging' it on, or something..."
"No it didn't. Parseltongue sounds like that anyway, but if you looked at the Snake... it was obviously backing off from Fletchley, but no one seemed to notice that except you twins, did they?" Lucifer asked them, with a sceptical expression on his face.
"Well...." Hermione said, getting their attention, "I know Harry wouldn't have had it attack anyone, especially Lucifer, so why do you think it suddenly went rogue?"
"That, my dear Hermione, is a very good question," Lucifer said, looking right back at her.
"I still don't see why it's bad that I can speak Parseltongue," Harry huffed, annoyed, he thought it was quite cool when he was a kid, "I didn't even know I could do that..." he argued desperately.
"Doesn't change what we all heard." George shrugged. "You were hissing like a snake. Clear as day."
Fred thumped him on the back. "Cheer up! It's an awesome gift if you ask me.... We'd kill 'for that.' Next time we fancy a roast snake, we'll count on you. Bet the Forbidden Forest is crawling with them."
They chuckled and wandered off, called away by a couple of Slytherins itching for their own duels.
"...." Hermione shuddered at the thought of trying to eat a snake, while it's jelly, and slipperry skin twists and turns in your mouth like it was still alive and probing inside.
Suddenly, she felt her face getting flushed, then glanced at Lucifer's legs, or precisely between them, even more so at his crotch. She gave a few seconds stare, and then hurriedly snatched her focus away.
"Well..." Hermione was uneasy, but opened her mouth anyway, and her breathing came out somewhat loudly hare and uneven, "Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth and he was famous for it... Remember what Binns told us? Salazar Slytherin's true heir will open the 'Chamber of Secrets..."
"But I can't be his heir!" Harry was now really going to be angry.
"You'll find that very hard to prove, mate."
"She's right. Slytherin lived over a thousand years ago. Maybe you share an ancestor under 'Gaunt's bloodline."
"Yeah, for all we know, you could be!"
And, Hermione finished with a loud yell, even pretending to be scared of this green-eyed boy, named Harry.
"• •" Harry, now really stared at his so-called best friends, who were determined to make him a criminal, who liked to petrify Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris.
As for Harry's sudden display of Parseltongue, after the excited moment had died down, Lucifer expressed interest in going back.
Harry spared a passing glance of goodbye as he bolted from the hall.
......
Lucifer's attention was on Hermione, seated with him watching a duel between two sixth-year 'Gryffindors.'
Calling it a "duel" was generous-it looked more like a clumsy card game. Each spell was preceded by endless hesitation, and the moment one raised his wand, the other ran so frantically he tripped over his own feet.
The final curse missed entirely.
Nearby, a Hufflepuff match wasn't much better. One student's wand suddenly belched fire, terrifying himself more than his opponent.
He yelped and flung his wand across the floor before anything had even happened.
Hermione stared, wide-eyed, almost speechless. 'Forget combat' skill--the failure rate of their spells alone was painful to watch.
"Lucifer..." she pouted. "You're awful, comparing me to them! I lost to Bulstrode... cause I stared at her belly, merlin that girl needs a diet plan!'"
"I wasn't comparing," Lucifer said patiently. "I just want you to understand the real duel. This world is uneven by design.... Out of ten thousand people, you might not find a single wizard. Out of ten thousand wizards, maybe one is a Dumbledore, or a Grindelwald...."
"Your talent is no less than any pure-blood wizard, but you shouldn't measure 'yourself' against them due to different upbringings of magic being known for years or 'me.' The only real goal is to keep surpassing yourself."
Sometimes, he felt like an older brother to Hermione, when she acted mischievous sprite, he would be bit teasing, when she became a sweet little lady----But watching her get pulverised, Lucifer felt like a father--rebuilding her worldview, reshaping her understanding, molding her 'very character.'
'Wasn't that exactly what a father was supposed to do?' He thought smugly. One day, he ought to make old Granger bow to him in thanks.
"But I'm so slooow," Hermione muttered miserably, "How could I ever become your good student? And, deserve 'bonus credits?"
Lucifer softened his voice, "You've only just begun in magical world. Don't think so far ahead.... 'Once you've built a foundation', you'll discover your own strengths where you may surpass me."
"Like sucking your cock?"
"Y...yes, 'your tongue skills' have improved."
Those words finally eased Hermione's mood. She stopped fretting over the clumsy display she made and began reflecting on what might allow her to truly bring him pleasure.
Once she was soothed, Lucifer turned back to his favorite pastime: 'spectating.'
Harry's Parseltongue revelation had stirred some whispers, but it didn't dampen the students' zeal. Especially when Snape gave way for grudges, it had already become the prime arena for settling past deeds.
"Davies! If you've got any manhood at all, get up here!"
The sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect was bellowing at Roger Davies, a fifth-year Ravenclaw. Their quarrel was simple: the prefect's girlfriend had secretly "transferred allegiance," and he'd only found out recently.
They'd already exchanged blows once, fists flying, but other students had pulled them apart too soon. Tonight, under eyes of the entire school, he wanted round two.
If Davies backed down now, he'd never raise his head again in Hogwarts. So, grim-faced, he climbed onto the stage.
Both were high-level students, skilled and proud. Their clash was leagues more exciting than Malfoy's one-sided bullying earlier. And better yet, they fought while trading insults, flinging scandalous revelations mid-duel.
The audience ate it up, Lucifer was grinning ear to ear, thoroughly entertained. He had thought children were stiff and boring. Clearly, he had underestimated 'their flair' for drama.
Hermione was now equally engrossed, happily munching on metaphorical popcorn, when her dormmates approached to have a pillow fight on the stage, and see who would have more say in bathroom for rest of the year.
Rubbing off her nose cooly, she stood up to have another go at it, this time she would definitely show these girls who was the queen!
......
That night, many Hogwarts students found themselves too restless to sleep.
She was certainly one of them-the lingering sensation of 'Lucifer's wand' touching her gums inside still tingled her sore tongue. She'd offered to clean it after dueling was done with, and he obliged in spoiling her fantasies.
Hermione gave it a 'saliva-bath.'
Malfoy, too, tossed and turned. He had humiliated Weasley thoroughly, which left him smug, but the aborted duel with Harry left a sour taste. Worst of all, the 'Parseltongue' incident gnawed at him.
He was a pure-blood Slytherin, scion of an ancient family whose ancestors had all graduated from this very House. Yet he wasn't a Parselmouth. 'Potter' was. Potter could command the serpent Malfoy himself had conjured.
'Even snakes 'bow to him?' Malfoy clenched his fists in the dark. 'Next time, I won't make that mistake again.'
Meanwhile, high in Gryffindor Tower, Harry lay awake, staring at the canopy above his bed.
'Parseltongue.' Fred had said it was the mark of a powerful Dark wizard. Almost every Parselmouth in Britain had come from Slytherin.
'Hermione's reaction could be put aside as harmless gossip between friends, but still.... And the Sorting Hat---hadn't it once told me I belonged there? Was I really a natural-born Dark wizard?'
...No. That couldn't be right. There were good Slytherins, too. My 'paternal family' had married graduates from there, it wasn't so bad.
But still, in duel after duel, he couldn't ignore the truth. Slytherins were stronger.... Even Malfoy could trample him and Ron with ease. 'Did I really choose the wrong House?'
As these doubts gnawed at Harry, Lucifer slept soundly, unbothered by any of it. Hermione had once again crept into his bed, curling between his thighs like a living pillow. She was soft and warm, her hair carrying the faint scent of bath soap.
Lucifer inhaled deeply, sinking into comfort, feeling the girl's snoring warm breath 'tickling his pubic' hair, apparently she'd gone asleep with black curls in her mouth, and nibbling on from time to time from inside her dreams.
Only one word could describe the feeling: 'Bliss!'
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