Chapter 120 - Ch 119 - Avada Kedavra ~Dark~

The next morning, as usual, Astoria was making her way to the Great Hall for breakfast exactly on dot leaving dormitory at 7:20 am.

But when she passed a small side-parlor, Lucifer stopped and stepped inside with her.

"Astoria, how well do you know Ginny Weasley?"

Astoria blinked at the unexpected question.

"Not well. We share a few classes, that's all. But..." Her eyes brightened slightly, "I'm friendly with her friend, Luna Lovegood. We both love magical creatures. She's... one of my few friends here."

Now that made Lucifer pause.

Astoria and 'Luna-friends?' He hadn't paid much attention to Luna, cause of the guilt of denying her request to see Anael but even he'd heard of the "Loony Lovegood" nickname floating around the school.

"Lucifer?" Astoria tugged softly at his sleeve when he fell silent.

"Oh, it's nothing." He refocused, then leaned closer. "I want you to observe Ginny more closely. See where she spends her time. Especially when she's alone..."

The request sounded... well, creepy, to say the least. But Astoria was bright enough not to misinterpret. Her face paled as the implication struck her.

"...Ginny Weasley is the 'Heir of Slytherin?"

"Highly possible," Lucifer said flatly. "After Mrs. Norris was attacked, Ginny 'fell mysteriously ill'. Then same instances repeated for the next victims, she would look at their seats in the morning with a face that screamed as if she had... committed a truly heinous sin... We also a lot of death stares off. Even bigger, in 'Flourish and Botts', there was a dark object around her."

Astoria frowned. "But she's only a first-year! And the Weasleys are all Gryffindors. How could she possibly have anything to do with Slytherin?"

"We'll find out once we catch her alone," Lucifer replied simply.

The plan was straightforward, but not reckless. He wouldn't risk exposing Ginny in front of others. If she were proven innocent later, the stigma would crush her and invite hate; a 'first-year' girl might never recover. Better to confirm in secret.

Astoria's small hands clenched at her robes, but then she nodded with surprising determination. "I understand."

After her initial shock came a spark of pride and excitement. For once, she could help Lucifer--not just be protected by him. She could finally contribute.

....

"I can't believe it..." Ron said bitterly at the breakfast table, "she was only three toilets away... we could've asked her, and now..."

Now they weren't able to so easily sneak off, not with the teachers leading them to every class.

"What would we accomplish anyway? She doesn't know where is the Chamber or about the monster. It's a horrible 'dead end."

"Maybe, maybe not. We don't have any other clues." Harry emphasised with his empty spoon.

Might be different if it were a boys bathroom, or if Hermione wasn't petrified, but seeing as how neither of those were the case, Lucifer didn't readily see how they were going to accomplish this.

He saw no point in asking Myrtle' any questions, and won't be helping the boy's, there was a much bigger issue in needing his attention, Ginerva.

Even their Portrait holes were sealed at night, with others on alert for any roaming student.

Over the following day, Astoria Greengrass quietly shadowed Ginny, and soon confirmed Lucifer's suspicions: Ginny's odd behavior persisted. Even though her supposed "illness" had passed, she often drifted off into daydreams.

As her friend had said, she fixated on talking to Luna, how annoying Percy had become, Astoria watched her from afar. Yet whenever they crossed paths in the corridors, Ginny would scurry away with flimsy excuses.

...

In 'Transfiguration', their first class, they found out they were still going to have exams. Lucifer wasn't surprised, and even with all that had happened, he felt confident in his ability to pass them flawlessly, but others were surprised.

"Exams?" Seamus howled in disbelief, "We're still getting 'exams?!"

There was a loud bang somewhere near the back of class, and when Lucifer turned to see what happened.

Neville had dropped his wand, which vanished one of the legs on his desk.

McGonagall pulled out her own wand and fixed it before turning to Seamus with a frown, "The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education," she said sternly, "the exams will, therefore, take place as usual, and I trust you all are studying hard."

Lucifer wasn't worried about exams, but Hermione. He heard a great deal of mutinous muttering around the room, and it caused McGonagall to scowl darkly.

"Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible," she said to them all, "and that, I 'hardly' need to point out, means finding out how much you've learned this year."

Lucifer glanced over; Harry looked like he was deep in thought, and Ron looked like he'd just been told he had to go live in the Forbidden Forest.

"Can you imagine me taking the exams with this?" He heard Ron ask Harry as his wand began to let out a low whistling sound, "I'd rather be petrified!"

xxxxxx

Three days before their first exam, Professor McGonagall had made another announcement at breakfast, but this one contained for a change, "I have some good news, everyone."

Instead of silence, the Great Hall erupted in theories.

"Dumbledore is coming back?" Several people yelped in glee.

"You've caught the Heir of Slytherin?" A Ravenclaw girl squealed.

"Quidditch Matches are back on?" Wood asked excitedly.

Lucifer couldn't help but laugh; the man loved his Quidditch games.

It was only after the hubbub subsided when Professor McGonagall spoke again, "Professor Sprout has informed me that the mandrakes are ready for cutting at last.... In two to three days, we will be able to revive those who've been petrified. I don't think I need to remind you that one of them may be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this Dreadful year will end with us catching the culprit."

Lucifer couldn't believe his ears. Hermione was going to finally wake up in a matter of two or max by three days. He was the happiest he'd been in a while.

There was a sudden explosion of cheering. The Slytherin's, most of them at least, didn't join in on the fun.

He heard Ron talking about how it won't matter if they go and see Myrtle at all, just before Ginny showed up and sat across from them.

She still looked awful, and Lucifer wondered just what the hell was wrong, her mind was blocked for any probing.

Before he could dwell further, Ron spoke to his sister, "What's up?"

She didn't say anything, but glanced up and down the table with a scared look on her face. For some reason, he felt it was almost like looking into a mirror.

"Spit it out," Ron said, more forcefully than he meant.

"I've got to tell you something," she mumbled, not looking at Harry or Lucifer.

"What's up, Ginny? Have you seen something odd?" Harry asked her, but she still said nothing, like she was trying to find the right way to say it.

"Are you alright, Ginny?" Lucifer asked, concern etched into his voice.

She leaned forward to say something, but no sound came out of her open mouth. She drew in a deep breath, but at that moment, Percy walked up to them, looking exhausted, "If you've finished eating, I'll take that seat, Ginny. I just got off patrol duty and I'm starving."

She jumped up as though her chair had been electrified, gave Percy a fleeting, frightened look, then scampered off.

Percy sat down and grabbed a mug from the center of the table.

Lucifer couldn't believe his eyes. Ginny clearly didn't look well, and her brother just shrugged it aside as though it was a bother for him

"Percy!" Ron said angrily, "she was just about to tell us something important."

Percy, who was halfway through a gulp of tea, started to choke, "What sort of thing?" He asked in between coughs.

"Harry asked her if she'd seen anything odd, and she started to say-" Ron was cut off.

"Oh--that-- that's nothing to do with the 'Chamber of Secrets," Percy said at once.

"How do you know?" Ron asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well... if you must know, Ginny... er... walked in on me the other day when I was... well, never mind, the point is, she spotted me doing something and I, um, I asked her not to mention it to anybody. I must say, I did think she'd keep her word. It's nothing, really, I'd just rather---"

Lucifer had never seen Percy so uncomfortable before. His inability to explain properly what it was Ginny caught him doing wasn't helping his case either.

"What were you doing, Percy?" Ron asked with a grin, "Go on, tell us, we won't laugh."

Percy didn't look amused at all, "Pass me those Rolla, Harry, I'm starving."

Lucifer looked down the table where Ginny ran off to. He saw what looked like a troubled expression on her face.

He had an oddly bad feeling about her.

xxxxxx

Luna Lovegood didn't scream or panic. Instead, her wide silver eyes blinked curiously, scanning the room with calm detachment. Lucifer, amused, prodded her further--hence the little test with 'his wand beneath her chin.'

Yet even now, he felt no fear radiating from her. Only quiet, eerie observation.

"Lucifer," she said softly, her voice dreamy and distant, "you've noticed it too, haven't you? Ginny's been... strange."

He froze. She knows? The girl's eyes-too large in her thin, pale face, like a goldfish-gleamed with odd certainty.

"You knew?" Lucifer asked, thrown off by her bluntness.

She nodded serenely. "Since October, she's changed a great deal. Distracted, tired, always burdened by something heavy. She hides in corners, scribbling things when she thinks no one's looking."

"And you didn't intervene?" Lucifer demanded.

"If Ginny wanted to tell me, she would have," Luna replied simply, pacing the room with bare, soft steps, "Even friends can't meddle in another's life." She tilted her head. "Though... every time she hears your name, her expression shifts. Doesn't that feel... connected to you?"

Lucifer's lips tightened.

Bloody Ravenclaws. First their little geniuses like Quirrell and Lockhart--schemers and fools alike-and now this one. Too sharp in all the wrong ways like your mother.

"Are you suspicious of me?" He asked, eyebrow arched.

Luna blinked at him, puzzled, "You're uncomfortable... because I can see too much. Aren't you? But I know you won't hurt me, we are family."

"Yes," Lucifer admitted, honest for once, "No one likes being read like a book."

The girl frowned faintly, "But I can't help it. Just as you... don't feel entirely like angels in this form. More like a creature, Uncl---"

Lucifer's eyes twitched. He clapped a hand over her mouth, cutting her off before she could say more.

"Enough. If you can't control your instincts, at least control your tongue. Keep your observations to yourself, understood? The 'Silver City might be watching you.'"

Luna nodded silently, and he withdrew his hand.

"Now. Let's talk about Ginny." His tone hardened.

Luna was 'uncanny-terrifyingly' so. If she' can even see the future, and have all knowing eyes, Remiel might very well descend to Earth itself to pick her up. Better to keep her focused elsewhere.

"Lovegood, I believe Ginny Weasley is the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets," Lucifer said bluntly, "and the one who attacked my friend Hermione and your housemate, Penelope Clearwater."

Luna's wide eyes widened further. She gasped, half in disbelief. "Ginny? That's impossible... isn't it?"

"That," Lucifer said coldly, this girl was pretending to be shocked, "is exactly what we're going to ask her." He gestured around them, "The reason you're here is to draw her to me, I can't be seen taking her, no better, she will avoid me with all her might..."

Luna lowered her head in thought, "...I see." 'Maybe, it's my time to intervene...'

...

Lucifer was damn determined to talk to Ginny privately, despite the chance of all this being cleared up by the weekend.

Same for Harry and Ron, the chance to talk to Myrtle did arise after their 'DADA class'. They were being led to 'History of Magic' by Lockhart.

Gilderoy Lockhart, a 'fraud' and a horrible Professor even by Luna's standards.

At least in Potions he was learning things. Lockhart was blissfully ignorant and felt that the danger had passed, only to be proved wrong immediately, was once again blissfully ignorant, and didn't see the need for Professors to guide the students to their next classes anymore.

His hair hadn't been as sleek as it usually was.

Probably a result of him being up all night on patrol around the Fourth Floor, "Mark my words," he ushered them around a corner, "The first words out of those poor petrified people's mouths will be, 'It was Hagrid' Frankly, I'm astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all of these security measures are still necessary."

"I agree, sir," Harry said.

It caught Lucifer off guard for a moment, but he quickly caught on.

He couldn't go along with him because Lockhart wouldn't believe him, but Harry, he'd take Harry's word as gospel, probably.

"Thank you, Harry," Lockhart said graciously as they waited for a long line of Hufflepuff's to pass, "I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with without having to walk students to classes and stand guard all night."

Ron seemed to catch on quickly too, "That's right, why don't you leave us here, sir? We've only got one more corridor to go---"

"You know what, Weasley, I think I will," Lockhart said excitedly, "I really should go and prepare my next class-" he said and hurried off.

"More likely to curl his hair," Lucifer said in a disgusted tone.

"Morningstar! Morningstar!"

"Wait, come, I have something very important to tell you," Lockhart said, shouldering his way past Ron, as if he suddenly remembered something.

"What is it 'this time', Professor?" Lucifer asked, his impatience written clearly across his face. But Lockhart didn't notice--or perhaps didn't care. He leaned in, lowering his voice.

"Morningstar, I've been thinking. That Crumple-Horned Snorkack you're keeping---it's far too dangerous for a wizard 'your age'. You can't handle it. Best to let me take it off your hands."

"Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while," Lockhart continued eagerly, "I'll pay you handsomely---five 'thousand Galleons'. And if that's not enough, we can negotiate further."

Lucifer's eyes went ice-cold. The next moment, a scream rang through the corridor, clear and terrorized:

xxxxxxx

Before coming to Hogwarts, Gilderoy Lockhart had envisioned a glorious stage for himself. With nothing more than his dazzling stories, he imagined he could make the young witches and wizards sink completely into the illusions of power he wove.

That way, he would not only sell countless copies of his books, but also seize the chance to write another one-his "Hogwarts years"-and use the prestige of a professorship to raise his worth even higher.

But lately, life had not been going well for him. The students were losing patience. True, there were still plenty of silly witches who swooned over him, but many others had come to Hogwarts to learn, to improve.

Especially the Fifth and Seventh Years, facing their grueling O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams, were desperate to master real magic.

Many had come to him for guidance, only to be brushed aside with vague smiles and hollow words.

But humiliations over the year, Lucifer, and his fangirl had embarrassed countless times in front of a crowd---had struck a heavy blow to Lockhart's reputation. Even his 'die-hard admirers' had wavered!

Still, Lockhart had experience handling such situations. His books had been questioned before. He knew the trick: 'create an even more sensational story', and the scandal would be drowned in the noise.

This time, he set his sights on Usagi. If he could obtain Usagi, the beast, his own lack of skill could be masked. With such a powerful "pet," he might even attempt true adventures.

He had also dug into Lucifer's background.

Just a Muggle-born orphan with a bit of talent, sorted into Slytherin first, then interfered with by Dumbledore into Gryffindor, by some twist of fate.

His life couldn't be easy. Surely, a few galleons would dazzle him, especially after losing the girl or in a moment of happiness of her return. Lockhart thought it a fair price--especially with Dumbledore still watching over everything from his confined room.

He wouldn't dare go too far.

And then--he was suddenly hurled into the air.

The noisy corridor fell silent. The young witches and wizards froze as though time itself had stopped. They stared at Lucifer---and at Lockhart, hanging upside down.

Someone rubbed their eyes furiously, only to realize the world truly had gone mad. Lucifer Morningstar had dared to attack a professor!

This wasn't like Quirrell. Quirrell had resigned, exposed his true face, and revealed himself as a Dark wizard after the Philosopher's Stone. Lockhart, for all his incompetence, was still a 'professor---an' actual, living professor!

"Lucifer Morningstar! What are you doing? Put me down at once!"

Lockhart snapped out of his daze, screaming with fury, flailing his limbs against the invisible bindings.

Lucifer's face was cold as stone. With a flick of his wand, the wall bulged outward, swallowing Lockhart's body until only his head protruded.

Draco Malfoy's eyes lit up.

'Yes! Exactly like this!' This was the same way Morningstar had pinned Burke into a stone wall, leaving him hanging there the entire night. 'No, this time Lockhart deserved to suffer even longer!'

"I used to think you were nothing more than a buzzing fly," Lucifer said, voice calm, cutting through the stillness, "A clown on the stage, amusing the crowd. But today I see the truth---'you're a rat. A rat foolish enough to bite, thinking you can gnaw at me?"

"Usagi? You dare set your eyes on her? Old fraud, what gives you the right? That pitiful little 'Charm of yours?"

Lockhart's eyes widened in terror. The wall pressed against his mouth, muffling his protests into pitiful whimpers. But his heart hammered. How much did Lucifer know? He had called him a fraud--he all but named the Memory Charm directly!

Words were not enough, Lucifer's hand itched.

"Neville. Your wand."

Neville blinked, then, as if guided by instinct, pulled out his wand. By the time Lucifer grasped it, the wand had transformed into a whip studded with barbs.

A sharp hiss spread through the crowd. Harry and Ron sucked in breaths, envy twisting in their chests. Why had he chosen Neville's wand and not theirs?

"With my own wand, you'd dirty it. Today, Lockhart, if I don't leave you striped with golden lashes, I'm not 'Lucifer Morningstar."

'Crack!'

"Aaaah!"

The first strike drew a shriek of agony. Even a troll couldn't endure the bite of that barbed whip. Lucifer's arm moved faster and faster until his blows blurred into afterimages.

Ravenclaws shrank back in horror, trembling in a corner, but the Slytherins... their eyes gleamed with feverish admiration.

This was the Slytherin way. Cross us, and even a professor would be taught his place!

Lucifer was burning with fury.

How dare this charlatan insult him with such a paltry offer? 'Five thousand galleons?' His expenditure for the term exceeded that. This wasn't even a bargain; an insult.

'Usagi, my daughter no less!'

He struck without hesitation, lashing down just as hard as the first. Soon, Lockhart's body was a canvas of bloody stripes, his robes soaked crimson, his face unrecognizable.

Even some Slytherins faltered. Was he really going to flog him to death?

"Enough!"

A shrill voice cut through the frenzy. Relief rippled through hall---'Lockhart would live, barely'. Fifteen minutes later, in the Headmaster's office.

"Outrageous! Absolutely outrageous!"

Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait bellowed.

"A Hogwarts student attacking a professor? In our day such disgrace was unthinkable! Morningstar, do you believe a little talent gives you the right to do as you please? You're finished. Not even Dumbledore can save you this time. Expulsion is the only option!"

Flitwick had been the one to free Lockhart, ordering two students to rush him to the hospital wing. Then, dragging Lucifer along, he had gone straight to Dumbledore's office.

Few knew he was still present there to watch over Hogwarts.

The Charms professor sighed the whole way, but said nothing. Only at the door, as the stone gargoyle leapt aside, did he whisper urgently:

"Morningstar, you must admit fault. Dumbledore will be lenient if you do."

Now, in the office, Flitwick quickly explained what he had heard from students, then excused himself.

Dumbledore had asked him to send for Snape, not Minerva. The living men in the room stayed silent.

Snape stood by the door, arms crossed, his expression black as storm clouds. He looked as though he had come simply to enjoy the spectacle.

Other than Phineas, other headmasters in the portraits were no less displeased with Lucifer.

A student attacking a 'professor?' How could such a thing be tolerated?

This wasn't just a troublesome student anymore--it was a problem demanding a heavy hand.

If today he dared strike a professor, what was to stop him from challenging the Headmaster tomorrow? Still, the others weren't as brash as Phineas. Dead headmasters were meant to offer 'counsel' to the living, not make decisions for them.

"A corpse barking orders... Phineas, why don't you come out and take the Headmaster's seat again yourself?"

"You-you dare mock me?!" Phineas roared, his painted eyes bulging in outrage.

"Not only dare I mock you," Lucifer sneered, raising his wand, "I'll shut you up as well..."

The frame of Phineas's portrait flipped upside down, the entire painted scene inverted.

"Hey! What have you done to my home? Put it back---" A heavy curtain fell across the frame, smothering Phineas's shrill protests into silence.

In another portrait, Armando Dippet rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'Leviosa spell used like this? Hm. When I get out, I must ask Morningstar about it. It was my favourite spell, yet this boy uses it more deftly than I ever did...'

Snape, meanwhile, wasn't remotely worried that Dumbledore would expel Lucifer as Phineas had claimed. For the sake of one incompetent fool, would he really cast out a boy with such staggering potential? Only an idiot like Phineas would think so.

"Ah..."

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Mr. Morningstar, 'your temper... it is far too volatile. With everything going on already, surely...."

"Professor," Lucifer replied with a small smile, "I think you should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" Dumbledore blinked.

From Lucifer's pocket, Usagi wriggled free. Stroking its scaled head, he spoke softly, "Lockhart tried to insult Usagi with gold. If I hadn't stopped her, he'd already be a smear of flesh on the floor. Tell me, Professor-which is more serious? A professor beaten bloody, or a professor 'killed' outright?"

Dumbledore gave a bitter smile. He couldn't call that mere sophistry. The logic was... uncomfortably sound.

Phoenixes were proud creatures. If anyone had ever dared offer Galleons to buy Fawkes, the bird would have burned the offender to ash in an instant. It was only Dumbledore's reputation that kept such thoughts unspoken.

But Usagi was stronger than Fawkes---stronger, prouder, and far less forgiving.

Lucifer's only weakness was his youth. Too many still thought him easy prey. "I 'cannot deny that," Snape drawled suddenly, his tone silky but sharp.

"Dumbledore, you truly ought to thank Morningstar. If he hadn't intervened, Lockhart would be a corpse by now, killed by a student's beast.... And you, the Headmaster who hired him, would be nailed beside him on the pillar of shame."

"But he is still a professor..." Dumbledore murmured with a weary grimace. Inviting Snape here had been a mistake---he had only sharpened Lucifer's blade further.

"Headmaster Dumbledore!"

Lucifer's voice cut sharply across the room, bold enough to make even Snape blink in surprise. 'Morningstar... do you truly see him as some kindly old fool you can speak to this way?'

"I want to ask one question," Lucifer said, eyes locked on Dumbledore's. His gaze was keen, even challenging. "What is the duty of a professor?"

Dumbledore paused in thought. At last, he answered softly, "To help students become better people... and better wizards."

"I very much agree."

Lucifer nodded earnestly. "Take Professor McGonagall, for example. She may be Head of Gryffindor, but she treats every student with genuine care. Her mastery of Transfiguration is second only to yours, Professor. In all of Britain, no other witch or wizard surpasses her in that art."

Dumbledore's lips curved into an involuntary smile. Lucifer's words were sincere, and his recognition of McGonagall warmed him.

"And at the very least," Lucifer went on, "a professor should be like 'Professor Snape."

Snape stiffened, eyes widening.

'What the-? I came here to shield you, boy! I spoke up in your defense, and now you're using me as a cautionary example?' In this moment, Snape swore that if the Killing Curse were cast at Lucifer, he'd unleash the strongest Avada Kedavra of his life.

Feigning ignorance of Snape's glare, Lucifer continued smoothly, "Yes, Professor Snape's manner may be... less than pleasant. But at the very least, he fulfills the fundamental duty of transmitting knowledge. He teaches, and he 'teaches competently."

"Now, what about the man you hired---Lockhart?"

Lucifer's lip curled into a cold sneer.

"Even my bird can see it. He's nothing but a fool spouting lies. Not a word of truth in his books. Merlin only knows from whom he stole those stories... I do not believe that the greatest wizard of our century cannot see through his charade."

"Lucifer," Dumbledore's tone deepened, "sometimes the lessons you must learn from a professor are not limited to the spells they teach. More important than their instruction is what you take away for yourself, lessons, warnings, reminders."

"So," Lucifer pressed forward, planting both hands firmly on the desk, voice low but biting, "you wasted an entire school year, just so the only thing students gain is the lesson to value honesty and the chance to see through 'one fraud?"

His eyes narrowed, his words like knives, "Headmaster, even if you are Headmaster, are the thoughts of students to be dismissed so easily?"

Dumbledore's lips pressed tight. He fell into silence. Snape stared, utterly dumbfounded, his wand sliding unconsciously into his hand.

One thought filled his mind, pounding like thunder. 'Brave. So bloody brave!'

Severus Snape felt as though he were seeing Lucifer Morningstar in an entirely new light.

In the past, he had thought boy a little wild-fearless, in fact. Unlike other students who shrank before professors like mice before cats, he had always been far more casual, even bold.

But after today, Snape realized that his earlier assessment had been far too conservative. This was no ordinary lack of respect. This was utter, unflinching fearlessness.

No, Snape thought grimly, if Morningstar managed to get out of this unscathed, he would have to sit the boy down and carefully explain just what kind of man 'Albus Dumbledore truly was.'

And Dumbledore, after being challenged so directly, had only bowed his head, no one knowing what thoughts ran behind his half-moon spectacles.

Lucifer, meanwhile, took a steadying breath and returned calmly to his seat. Don't be fooled by his noble words from moments ago, standing tall on behalf of the entire student body to strike against Dumbledore.

At the core of it all, he had only been acting for himself.

If Gilderoy Lockhart had merely continued strutting about the school, basking in his fraudulent glory, he would not have bothered interfering.

After all, no matter who taught 'Defense Against the Dark Arts', Lucifer could always teach himself.

But Lockhart had been foolish enough to seek him out repeatedly, desperate for attention-and worse, he had dared to set his sights on Usagi.

And since Lockhart had already provoked him, he would make sure he was crushed, leaving no chance for recovery. 'Why allow an enemy to linger?'

Of course, if judged solely by appearances, Lucifer's expulsion of Lockhart would indeed be a relief for every student. Even if forced into 'self-study, revisions', that was far better than enduring Lockhart's daily one-man theater in class.

Far worse, in leaving Lockhart to continue sickening him day after day. If he could not get rid of Lockhart then no matter how long the time stretched, outcome would be same.

That was why today he had abandoned his usual mild tone with Dumbledore and chosen instead to strike with sharp aggression, cutting the matter cleanly at its root.

Hire more competent professors.

As for Snape's worries, Lucifer was blissfully unaware. Even if he had known, he would have dismissed them as needless concern.

After all, there were only two people in this world who somewhat understood Dumbledore: one was Lucifer himself. The other... was currently lounging in Nurmengard prison, whom he had learnt most of last year.

Grindelwald was given to watch this matter of display, he was given a reprieve since he had completed his end of the deal, and now a peaceful cell in Hell's torture would await his welcoming.

Lucifer's earlier fury and accusations were entirely within the range of what a student might do. Even if he disagreed with Dumbledore, such behavior would never truly anger him.... Dumbledore would simply try to gently guide the boy's thoughts into alignment with his own. The Headmaster's pride was not so fragile as to flare at a student's defiance.

But enough of that ancient fool gossiping in the void.

Back in the real world, Dumbledore finally broke the tense silence.

"Mr. Morningstar," the Headmaster said gravely, "I had not expected you to see through Lockhart so deeply."

His voice carried no anger, only quiet resignation.

"You are correct. He is indeed a seasoned fraud.... At least ninety percent of the adventures described in his bestsellers were stolen from others---some of whom, by chance, happen to be my own friends."

"When I visited them over the summer, however, they had no recollection of those events. Not even I could restore what they had lost."

"From that perspective, Lockhart is quite skilled. His ability to win trust and his mastery of 'Memory Charms' are, without exaggeration, at a master's level...."

Dumbledore gave a wry smile. "If only he were willing to share his knowledge of Memory Charms, I would gladly be 'his student."

He sighed. "Yes, I admit it--I allowed him into Hogwarts with the thought that, under eyes of the students, his deception would eventually reveal itself.....But there is a greater reason." His tone grew heavier.

"Over forty years, we have burned through more than forty Defense Against the Dark Arts professors. Each year, 'fewer and fewer' dare to apply. Lockhart... was the only candidate this time."

"Impossible." Lucifer snapped, piercing through Dumbledore's explanation like a blade, "At the very least, there was one other who definitely applied."

The boy's dark eyes slid toward Snape who straightened immediately, chest swelling with long-suppressed pride.

"Dumbledore," he said, voice dripping with restrained bitterness, "I recall submitting an application every single summer, requesting to change subjects. But your memory seems rather poor---you have never once replied."

"Ah..." Dumbledore's expression twisted oddly as his gaze flicked between Snape and Lucifer.

From the way Snape had just defended the boy earlier, the two seemed on good terms. And yet Lucifer was now practically shoving him headlong into the 'firepit.'

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, a flicker of suspicion glinting there. But Lucifer only sat there, utterly righteous, chin high as though nothing were amiss.

Catching Dumbledore's suspicious glance, Lucifer answered boldly, voice steady and righteous, "I believe Professor Snape fully 'capable' of handling curse-breaking."

"And if he cannot? Be 'cursed' instead," Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"Then next year, we'll find another candidate. Oh--speaking of which, Slytherin will be needing a new Head of House as well."

The faint trace of a smile that had lingered on Snape's face vanished in an instant. His expression sank like storm clouds. So Morningstar's defense earlier hadn't been sincere after all--he really had been 'setting Snape up!'

"Best to leave it, I think." Dumbledore shook his head. "We should be thankful Lockhart is still able to serve as Professor of 'DefenceAgainst the Dark Arts..."

Lucifer leaned back in his chair, voice calm but sharp-edged. "Professor, the management of this school isn't something a mere student like me ought to interfere with.... But surely you see---just because no one else has stepped forward, it doesn't mean we should allow a fraud to take the position.... Better no professor at all than one who drags the rest down with him. You know that truth better than anyone."

"Continue like this, and you risk lowering the reputation of every professor in Hogwarts."

He met Dumbledore's gaze, unflinching.

"Punish me however you wish for today's incident. I'll accept it. But one thing is certain--Lockhart can't continue in his role. Frankly, if he wasn't 'removed, something far worse done by the curse awaits him..."

Dumbledore thought a moment before replying, "Using magic in the corridors, brawling, and damaging the castle walls-- Gryffindor' and Slytherin will lose one hundred points divided by your own deal 'last year in reverse.... And for the next week, you will serve detention under Professor Snape's supervision."

Though it reeked of favoritism, Dumbledore had little choice. The school rules had no clear clause about a student striking a professor, so he was forced to cobble together charges that even Snape found laughable.

"As for Lockhart..." Dumbledore sighed, "Lucifer, everything I've said is speculation, without solid evidence. I cannot dismiss him on mere suspicion."

"What if I find the 'evidence?" Lucifer asked evenly.

Dumbledore's brows lifted. "And how would you intend to do that? You must remember---'Legilimency and Veritaserum' are strictly prohibited."

Lucifer's lips curved, but he gave nothing away. "Professor, I won't trouble you with details. But you should be prepared---'your reputation may take some minor damage."

Dumbledore chuckled, unconcerned, "Than already is? So long as you don't jeopardize yourself over the likes of Lockhart, I care little what people say about me. I'm just an old man. My reputation matters far less than your future..."

He leaned forward, eyes kind but resolute.

"You have my word. If you can present undeniable proof, I will dismiss Lockhart at once and hand him over to the 'Ministry."

"Then I'll bring you good news soon."

Lucifer rose from his chair, gave a courteous nod, and strode toward the heavy oak door. At the threshold, he paused, glancing back.

"Oh, one more thing, Professor. I greatly admire 'Headmaster Phineas Nigellus'. Would you consider lending me his portrait for a time? There are... academic matters I wish to 'consult him on."

Dumbledore had just pulled back the curtain, thinking Lucifer had left, when Phineas's furious voice rang out:

"Dumbledore! You 'didn't expel him?! And absolutely not-my portrait stays where it is! Don't you dare hand me over to 'that boy!"

"Peace, Phineas," Dumbledore said gently. "This is 'your home. You won't be going anywhere."

Lucifer smirked faintly, turned on his heel, and exited with Snape at his side. The oak doors closed with a heavy thud. No sooner had they stepped into the corridor than Snape spoke at once:

"Your use of Levitation spell was clever. How did you manage to make the spell affect the 'portrait itself?"

Lucifer replied matter-of-factly, "I fused in elements of illusion charms. My target wasn't Phineas, but the 'background' of the portrait itself."

Snape blinked, intrigued.

"At that point," Lucifer added with a faint smile, "it's not really Levitation anymore. I'd call it 'Inverted or Mirror World."

Snape nodded slowly, thoughtful. 'An interesting idea indeed... If the environment can be inverted rather than the person, then possibilities are far broader. It completely surpasses my Levicorpus...'

Truth be told, Snape had enjoyed himself today. Lockhart's presence at Hogwarts had been nothing but a humiliation for the staff--lecturing Professor Sprout on how to treat the Whomping Willow, attempting to "improve" Snape's own potions.

'Dueling Club's horrendous spectacle.'

No one but a true lunatic would behave so insufferably.

"Lucifer!"

Four voices called out in unison.

Harry, Ron, Susan and Hannah had been waiting anxiously outside the office ever since Lucifer was summoned. The moment he stepped out, they threw questions.

"Dumbledore didn't do anything to you, did he? If he dares, I'll tell my Aunt Amelia to call... for a Board of Governors meeting and force him to back down!"

The indignant Head of Slytherin might as well have been invisible.

Snape was left standing on the sidelines, watching as two young witches swarmed the boy, then slipped away in silence, expression unreadable.

Lucifer passed her a smile, "No need to worry. Dumbledore only deducted forty points from Gryffindor' and sixty from Slytherin... and sentenced me to a week of detention with Professor Snape. But I don't plan on actually serving it..."

"That's a relief." Hannah exhaled as though narrowly spared from disaster, "When Susan told me you'd struck Lockhart, I nearly lost my mind. He's a professor! No student in Hogwarts history has ever dared attack a professor--at least not openly."

Lucifer's grin sharpened. "He won't be one for long. I've already spoken to Dumbledore---Lockhart will be gone within days."

"What?" Hannah's eyes widened. "But our exams are already near!"

"That just means we get to see him gone sooner." Harry's mood brightened up at that, revenge of jelly bones would finally be taken.

Ron's eyes gleamed, "Then let's give him a proper sendoff-one last beating before he leaves!"

Hannah hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded firmly, "Yes. He deserves it. But I bet Hermione wouldn't like all this, when she wakes up..."

Lucifer chuckled, first praising the two good heared Hufflepuff' then cautioning others, "Not yet. As long as he still wears the title of professor, we can't touch him. But once it's over---once everything is settled--we'll collect our interest."

"Fine," Susan agreed sweetly, "We'll wait...!"

Hannah nodded gravely. "Just... be careful. Please."

Once, she adored Lockhart like a star-struck fan. But after today, after his pitiful blunders all year---her admiration had curdled into disgust.

Now, she fully believed Lucifer. 'Lockhart was nothing but a fraud!'

xxxxx

The Gryffindor' common room was crowded, students buzzing with animated discussion about what had just transpired. The moment Lucifer stepped inside, several jumped to their feet at once.

"Lucifer, what did Dumbledore say?"

"I heard Snape was there too, do you want us to smuggle chilly cockroaches into his robes?"

"That Lockhart's useless anyway. Getting beaten up serves him right!"

"Trying to buy Usagi with just five thousand Galleons? Utter nonsense."

Everyone talked over one another until Lucifer lifted a hand. The noise died instantly, and his cold gaze swept across the room. He spoke to the few students standing nearest,

"Enough chatter," Lucifer began, striding confidently to his seat, "You've all heard what happened. Dumbledore docked me a dividend of points. I'll reclaim them sooner or later, but that isn't the point.... The point is---I have run out of patience with 'Gilderoy Lockhart."

He let the words sink in.

"Slytherin families might be among the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight, but your elders too hold high positions in our world's elite. Don't think I don't know that...."

At his words, many instinctively straightened their backs, pride flashing in Gryffindor' eyes.

And it wasn't empty flattery. Gryffindor' House upper years truly resembled 'Muggle financial dynasties'--few sat in government offices, some even through sheer resources and wealth, even wielded enormous influence over the Ministry. 'Augusta Longbottom' was the perfect example, though far more old thinking than most.

"Lockhart's behavior this past week has been shameful. A fraud. A clown. Clearwater---" Lucifer's eyes locked onto a fourth-year boy, younger brother of RavenClaw's female prefect, "---I hear you had to play a snowman in class last week. 'How did that feel?"

Clearwater gave a helpless shrug. "It didn't feel like a snowman... more like a 'troll. And before I knew it, Lockhart had stunned me with a spell right in front of everyone."

The room erupted with laughter.

"And you, George," Lucifer continued, turning sharply, "I heard your quiz on 'Lockhart's Personal Interests' only scored two correct guesses. You were humiliated in front of the class and lost five points...."

George's grin was twisted, "Lucifer, today you did what I've been dying to do for days. Shame I wasn't there to see it..."

Lucifer's lips curled, "So we all agree, then-our disdain for Lockhart isn't just personal. His so-called lessons are a waste of everyone's time. Especially for the 'fifth-years and seventh-years..."

His tone darkened, "You're the ones who are truly unfortunate. The 'Examinations Authority' won't lower their standards just because your professor is incompetent...."

The faces of the upper-years grew grim. Even with powerful family connections, they still needed solid marks to back them. This year's 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' would be nothing short of a disaster.

xxxxxx

At the same time, 'Slytherins's Common Room'

"I won't mince words," Snape said, rising from his own conjured desk, hand gripping the armrest, "This buffoon has outstayed 'his welcome.' For your education's sake, he cannot remain at Hogwarts."

"I've been here for years. And look at who Dumbledore has hired as professors! I can tolerate but 'can you for so long?"

His voice rang sharply, and electric to the snakes listening to their Head of House, who announced the reason for 'sixty points' deduction, "The time has come to remind Headmaster and the Ministry---that 'Slytherin is not to be trifled with."

"If you're with me, then tonight you will each 'write to your families. Have your parents pressure the Ministry directly. Writing to the school will do nothing, Dumbledore excels at sweeping 'things under the rug."

Snape's eyes gleamed darker. The room chilled instantly.

"If you don't..." His voice dropped, quiet but venomous, "Then you are to be treated as you do not exist in this house. Do not think I forget. I never forget. 'Ten years. Twenty years. I will remember every disobedience."

The handful who had secretly harbored doubts froze, as if Snape's gaze had pierced straight through them.

"I'll write to my grandfather at once, Professor Snape." Rosier declared, standing tall.

"And me!" Zabini and Malfoy spoke at the same time, shooting each other murderous glares. Neither would yield.

Soon, Nott, Avery, Marcus, Carrow, Parkinson, and others all pledged their support. Greengrass sisters had already touched their 'Occami-feather' gold Quills.

The momentum was overwhelming. No one dared oppose Snape, their Head of House, many admired him, and felt it was injustice openly to hire a man like Lockhart, instead of recognition their Professor deserved.

As for those who might resist in secret---he already had a solution. Snape would quietly discover which families had failed to send complaints to the Ministry, from his own share of taught placed students there.

Slytherin numbers were small; it would be easy to 'investigate.'

xxxxx

When next class was about to begin, a storm of owls burst forth from the Owlery, carrying letters by dozens. Slytherin students returned from posting them with smug grins plastered across their faces.

Professor Snape had spoken to their hearts. Slytherin had been quiet for 'too long'. Now, they would oust a professor---not just to purge incompetence, but as a warning to 'Dumbledore himself: Slytherin House is not to be underestimated!

Every student who took part felt a surge of pride, as if they had contributed to a great cause. Their letters spared no exaggeration of petrified victims, to pitiful safety. 'The more damning, the better.'

xxxxxx

By now, the entire castle was buzzing with the news. So when Lucifer appeared in the afternoon's History of Magic class, the Hufflepuffs couldn't concentrate at all (not that they usually did). At least once every minute, their eyes darted sideways to steal glances at him.

Hannah, who was on friendly terms with Lucifer, took the chance while Professor Binns was bent over his book to twist around in her seat.

"Lucifer, do you know how miserable Lockhart is right now?"

He gave a dismissive curl of his lip. "I was the one who 'thrashed him, of course I know. Madam Pomfrey won't be able to heal him for days."

"But you only gave him a few lashes!"

Hannah whispered in awe. "Some students forcibly snuck in to see... Lockhart looks 'like he's been torn apart.' His wounds aren't healing at all."

Ordinary cuts and bruises were nothing in the wizarding world. A bit of dittany, some bandages, and in a matter of hours there wouldn't even be scars left.

But Hannah didn't know the real reason. Lucifer had infused the whip with purple lightning--'every wound still tingled and burned with magical agony. Lockhart must be suffering an itch and numbness 'beyond endurance.

To even begin healing, Madam Pomfrey first had to dispel the magic coursing through his wounds, and that was far harder than fixing mere flesh.

Susan turned around too, her round face full of regret, "Lucifer, you should've just beaten his body. Lockhart's only redeeming quality was his face. Now that's ruined too..."

Hannah tutted at her friend's jab with a loud noise, "What's so special about an old man's looks anyway? If you want to look at a handsome face, just look at Lucifer..."

Susan instinctively nodded, and their eyes drifting toward Lucifer's pale, striking features--before their cheeks grew hot and they hurriedly looked away within seconds.

And, she joked, "That's different. Lucifer belongs to 'Hermione, we can't just stare at him, when she's here.... Lockhart might be far worse, but at least he was public property."

If Hermione were here, she would have beamed at the words, immediately handing out sweets to Susan and Hannah in delight.

By the time Professor Binns lifted his head again, the girls had snapped back around with practiced speed.

For rest of the day, whether it was professors or students, everyone's eyes lingered on Lucifer with an odd mix of admiration and fear. A few of Lockhart's fangirls were furious, of course---but none of them dared do more 'than glare secretly.' No one wanted to be the next one dangling from a ceiling under Lucifer's whip.

It was madness. He had thrashed a professor unconscious in front of the entire school, and that professor was still lying in the hospital wing. Yet the only punishment was a hundred points divided by a ledger and a week of detention with Snape--which was as good as 'no punishment at all.'

The only question was--what would Lockhart say when he finally woke up?

xxxxxx

.....At the Bones Manor, upon receiving Susan's urgent owl, Lady Amelia Bones had rushed back from the Ministry.

Halfway through, her brows knit tightly.

"Utter nonsense. Has Dumbledore truly gone senile? He lets any random fraud take a professor's chair?!"

Amelia had never been fond of Dumbledore, and this only made her disdain sharper. The meddlesome old man never managed the things he should, yet always poked his nose where it wasn't wanted.

If he truly cared for the wizarding world, why hadn't he acted when the Dark Lord first rose? Why had he hidden in Hogwarts while Death Eater ideology spread unchecked? If he had boldly stood against the Dark Lord then, would the pure-blood families have dared to throw in their lot with him? They would've tucked their tails and kept quiet.

But instead of handling that, he was busy meddling in "shaping students' ideology." And now-bringing in a fraud like Lockhart? A Headmaster's first duty was to make sure students learned magic properly, earned solid grades, and had a future. Not this nonsense.

The more Amelia thought, the angrier she became. Following Susan's suggestion, she picked up her quill to write letters linking other governors she knew together, while also beginning her own investigation into 'Lockhart's past travels!'

As the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she knew the basics: Apparition or Knight Bus left no records. But Floo Network, Portkeys, international travel? Those were all registered.

If Lockhart's movements didn't match the claims in his books, then there were only two possibilities: either he was lying in print--or he had been sneaking across borders illegally. Let him choose which crime he preferred.

Susan hadn't asked her to stir up the Board, but Lady Amelia Bones found Dumbledore's actions intolerable.

Hogwarts' professors had always been eccentric, but at least they could teach. 'Quirrell and Lockhart?' Utterly useless.

What was this? Some petty grudge against her lovely niece Susan's admission? She decided to contact Madam Greengrass for the data. Her own two daughters were studying there, and currently unsafe.

Surely, the 'difficult--cunning' woman would lend a hand.

Even with Dumbledore's reputation, and Heir of Slytherin fiasco, the Board was able to unseat him---but he still reigned at Hogwarts, however she could certainly make him miserable for a while.

Annoying others? Two could play that game. One by one, owls soared from the 'Bones Manor' carrying her fiery letters.

Meanwhile, other Slytherin parents were receiving complaint--filled letters from their children. Almost every family was outraged.

Whatever their station or politics, the love parents had for their children was universal. For pure-blood families, where lineage was precious, that protectiveness was even stronger.... They wanted nothing more than for their children to become accomplished 'witches and wizards.'

So when education itself was at stake, even Dumbledore could expect no compromise.

xxxxx

The next morning.

Dolores Umbridge arrived at the first floor of Ministry as usual, heading toward her domain--'Minister's Liaison Office.'

She wasn't yet a high-ranking official, merely Cornelius Fudge's secretary, responsible for drafting speeches, sorting letters, and other menial tasks.

She had just poured herself a cup of tea when the door burst open violently.

A great flock of owls swooped in, each carrying a fire-red envelope. Before the 'stunned' Umbridge could react, the owls dropped the envelopes in a heap and fled in panic---afraid they might end up as someone's snack if they lingered.

She stared at the growing pile, bewildered---until realization struck. Her face paled. 'Howlers!'

Before she could take any action, the letters activated. The next second, the Ministry exploded in deafening roars.

A hundred Howlers burst open like a chain of exploding barrels, the first victim being 'Dolores Umbridge' herself. She felt as though her eardrums had been punctured, hearing nothing but a piercing buzz, unable to make out a single word.

The next unfortunate target was the room itself.

The deafening tide of sound shattered the walls of the office, and soon an entire floor of Ministry was engulfed in the thunderous roars. The chaos echoed so violently that even floors above and below could hear it crystal clear.

Inside the Minister's office, Cornelius Fudge spilled his coffee all over his robes.

The door burst open as the Ministry's alarm wailed. A group of Aurors stormed in, casting 'Muffliato' on themselves as they rushed to shield him.

After a whirlwind of confusion, Umbridge managed to stammer out an explanation, revealing it was nothing more than a false alarm.

All that remained were the ashes of burned Howlers scattered across the floor---yet not a single soul had truly understood what 'they were shouting.'

Fudge, his face red with fury, barked,

"Set up a letter reception office immediately!' Staff it with people skilled in countering Howler enchantments! From now on, no letter reaches me without a full inspection!"

He shot a furious glare at Umbridge, who was trembling like a leaf.

She couldn't even handle a few blasted letters! If she weren't so adept at groveling, Fudge would have replaced her long ago.

"Cornelius."

A calm, steady voice cut through the air. From the crowd, Lady Amelia Bones stepped forward. Fudge instantly smoothed his expression, trading rage for a warm smile.

"Director Bones!"

Though technically the Minister outranked her, Fudge never dared to treat Lady Amelia casually. He favored the pure-blood faction, and the Bones family was deeply rooted among them.

....The Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement, her influence in this old building rivaled even his, Amelia Bones was Ministry's formidable 'second-in-command.' She was not someone Fudge could afford to offend.

Not just Amelia Bones--Fudge's attitude was always the same toward anyone who carried influence and prestige, provided they posed no threat to his power.

"I know the contents of those Howlers," Lady Amelia said evenly, "Because I wrote one myself."

Fudge's eyes widened in alarm, his mind racing, desperately trying to recall what he might have done to anger her.

"Let's continue this in your office, Cornelius," She continued, summoning several others forward, each a parent with a child currently studying at Hogwarts.

"Ah, Minister."

At the same moment if practiced on time, Evelyn Greengrass, Head of the Department of Magical Transportation had arrived with a furious glint in her eyes, clutching letters of her own.

"L-Lady Greengrass!!"

Fudge's expression darkened.

.....Meanwhile, inside the castle of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore was experiencing the exact same ordeal as Fudge.

Another hundred Howlers had arrived, though the Great Hall, being far larger, absorbed the noise differently. Because owls came in waves from varying distances, the arrival of the letters was staggered.

Amidst chaotic mix of overlapping shouts, students still managed to catch plenty of words clearly.

And what words they were.

The young witches and wizards sat gaping, eyes wide with astonishment. They had never heard such a spectacular barrage of insults. In a single morning, they learned more curse words than they had in their entire lives combined.

The more studious among them had already pulled out parchment and quills, diligently 'recording the choicest phrases' to use in future arguments.

The Howlers hurled every variety of affectionate abuse at Dumbledore and Lockhart---though, of course, neither of them was present, robbing the show of some of its drama.

But with the targets absent, the professors at High Table became the stand-ins.

The faculty looked as though they wanted to sink straight into their plates.... The Heads of Houses clenched their fists. Professor Flitwick had ducked entirely behind the table, his small frame vanishing from sight.

Even Severus Snape, who usually delighted in watching others' misery, found no joy in it today. Parents were lambasting the professors as useless incompetents.

Most of the fury was aimed at Lockhart, but rest of the staff weren't 'spared---after all, they were colleagues, and in the parents' eyes, all cut from the same cloth.

Professor McGonagall's fur seemed to bristle like an angry cat's. She swallowed her last bite of smoked herring, then stormed out of the hall in long, sharp strides, every inch the picture of a feline with its hackles raised.

Lucifer was busy. Every time a Howler reached the end of its tirade, he cast a spell to prevent it from 'self-combusting', carefully collecting each one.

"Hey, why are you keeping those?"

Harry asked curiously. He spoke with gestures--Lucifer had already cast 'Muffliato' charms on him at the request of his sensitive ears.

The boy simply pointed upward, and Harry's eyes lit up with realization.

Of course! The intended recipients hadn't heard a word of it yet. Letting the Howlers burn themselves out would be a complete waste.

With a quick 'Reparo,' they could be played back again. And with a little time before class, Lucifer knew exactly who, and how to deliver them.

A mini golem hauled the sack of Howlers onto it's shoulder, jogging toward the top floor.

The stone gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office came alive as he approached, its mouth curling into a mischievous grin.

"Back again, you little toy? Come to argue with Dumbledore?"

"Not this time. This one's from the parents." Lucifer controlled it's speech which he had just mastered due to fury at Lockhart, and not being able to corner Ginny cause of Teacher's overly protection, giving birth to a new model update, he looked around, frowning, "Where do I put these letters, anyway? You don't even have a postbox."

"Normally they go straight inside. But if the Headmaster isn't here... well, you can leave them in my mouth."

The gargoyle waggled its stony brows at him. Lucifer arched his own.

"Then open wide."

The Golem tugged the sack open, revealing a mountain of crimson envelopes.

"Go on. Mouth open. I'm not in the mood today, I have things to do.."

The gargoyle's eyes widened in horror, "That many Howlers? All for Dumbledore?"

"Of course. They're the heartfelt words of Hogwarts' loving parents. You'd better keep them safe."

Grabbing its jaw, the Golem upended the sack. 'Gulp-gulp-gulp!'

The gargoyle's belly swelled visibly, doubling in size. The stone creature gave its stone stomach a firm pat, solid as granite.

"Right then. Tell the Headmaster to come fetch them before they go off inside you.... Wouldn't want you exploding on my account."

With that, the Golem scampered off, leaving poor gargoyle groaning and smoking at the mouth.

"Dumbledore! Hurry up! The boy's heart is black as coal!" the gargoyle bellowed.

Nearly five minutes later, Dumbledore emerged from his office, wearing an expression of weary resignation. By then, smoke was already curling from gargoyle's lips.

All morning long--even Professors Sprout and Flitwick, usually the kindest of the staff, taught their lessons with unusually stern faces. Clearly, none of the professors had yet recovered from barrage of Howlers earlier that day.

As if to prove themselves nothing like the fraud that was Gilderoy Lockhart, they all taught with energy of people injected with 'firewhisky'. Each class covered nearly three lessons' worth of content, and their standards for students were stricter than ever.

Professor McGonagall's mouth practically never stopped moving, constantly correcting her students' wand movements, their strength, even their pronunciation. For a terrifying moment, Neville could have

sworn he was looking at a female version of 'Professor Snape!'

Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore was massaging his ears, which were still ringing faintly.

"So this is young Morningstar's method?" he mused, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement, "I never thought I'd live to see the day four houses display 'such unity."

At this point, Dumbledore was still unaware of what had transpired at Ministry that morning. It wasn't until that afternoon, when Cornelius Fudge himself arrived--bringing with him a representative of the Board of Governors again---that Headmaster realized Lucifer had orchestrated a full combination attack.

"Albus, what's this now? Attack on Muggle borns weren't enough?" Fudge greeted him warmly, shaking his hand, though his tone carried a hint of complaint, "You've really landed me in quite a mess this time."

Despite the words, there was no true anger in Fudge's eyes. Once he had understood the situation--that Lady Amelia, Madam Greengrass, and several other Slytherin parents had lodged formal complaints, his first reaction had been one of relief.

Good. It wasn't him they were targeting. The complaints were aimed at Dumbledore. But relief aside, it was still a headache.

These parents weren't just ordinary witches and wizards; they were major donors to the Ministry, pouring in hefty political contributions each year. Their voices could not be ignored.

On the other hand, Hogwarts was Dumbledore's domain. None of Fudge's predecessors had dared interfere with the Headmaster's choice of staff.

In fact, Fudge's own rise to Minister had owed no small part to Dumbledore's public endorsement.

Right now, their relationship was still in its "honeymoon phase." Fudge respected Dumbledore deeply-and appreciated that the old wizard confined himself to Hogwarts, showing little interest in Ministry affairs.

That balance kept the two men on good terms.

Fortunately, after a morning's worth of digging, Lady Evelyn had uncovered some key evidence. With that in hand, Fudge finally had enough confidence to bring along a school governor and confront this matter directly.

The governor who arrived was an elderly wizard. Not one of the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight,' but a Slytherin alumnus who owned numerous businesses.

Twenty years ago, he had purchased a seat on the Board from a failing old family in order to raise his own social standing. After the briefest of pleasantries, the governor laid a parchment flat on Dumbledore's desk, his face expressionless.

"Dumbledore. Out of respect for you, the Board has never interfered in your educational philosophy or in your decisions... But this time, your choice of professor has caused more than half the governors extreme dissatisfaction."

"This," he tapped the parchment, "is a notice jointly signed by eight governors. 'We remain courteous, but make no mistake---our patience is wearing thin..."

"Our annual donations are not meant to fund charlatans. We expect greater prudence from you in your future appointments..."

Dumbledore inclined his head gravely.

"I share your hope that the children receive the best education we can provide.... But surely you must also understand my difficulties. Barak-if professors' salaries continue to stagnate, the 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' post will become impossible to fill..."

Governor Barak's lips twitched violently. He had come here to deliver a rebuke---yet somehow, Dumbledore had turned it into a plea for more money.

"I will... relay your concerns to the others," Barak replied stiffly, resorting to delay tactics. Then he turned to Fudge, "Cornelius, shall we?"

"Go on, Barak. Don't forget the banquet in two days," Fudge said with an affable smile.

Once the governor had departed, Fudge collapsed into the chair opposite Dumbledore and pulled out a handkerchief, dabbing the sweat from his forehead.

"Albus, you do keep the fire blazing in here," he panted.

"Old age makes one prone to the chill," Dumbledore said serenely. "Indulge me..."

"Of course, of course--gone must take care of one's health," Then Fudge leaned in, his voice dropping, "Albus, regardless of whether you find a replacement or not, Lockhart cannot remain. That man is... 'deeply problematic."

"Oh?" Dumbledore tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "Has something been uncovered?"

"Not conclusive 'proof-yet," Fudge admitted. "But here's what we can confirm: in 'Voyages with Vampires, he outright fabricated part of his tale. The timeline of his supposed 'adventure' directly contradicts his actual schedule..."

"During that period, he was still in Britain, meeting with the deputy editor of 'WitchWeekly' about his book release. He never left the country at all. Originally, Madam Bones wanted the Ministry to issue a formal order of dismissal, but I stopped it.." Fudge winked slyly, "I felt it would be more... 'proper, if the decision came from you, not the Ministry."

"Cornelius, your warning is invaluable," Dumbledore said gravely. "Very well. I shall suspend 'Lockhart's position' pending the Ministry's investigation."

In truth, before power and politics had clouded his vision, Cornelius Fudge had been a shrewd, charming man---so charming, in fact, that even Dumbledore once considered him a 'trustworthy partner.

The conversation ended with Fudge satisfied, Dumbledore seemingly cooperative, and Lockhart's fate quietly sealed.

....

Two days later, at night, Gilderoy Lockhart was fully healed. Madam Pomfrey wasted no time in throwing him out of the infirmary.

This man had lain in bed for days, doing nothing but shouting curses at Morningstar or whining about his pain. She had nearly been tempted to pour a bottle of 'Draught of Living Death' down his throat just for some peace and quiet.

"Morningstar! You just wait!" Lockhart snarled as he stormed toward the door, his face twisted with rage. "I'll see you thrown into Azkaban!"

But by the time he pushed open the infirmary doors, he had schooled his features back into their usual charming smile.

Outside, however, a crowd of students had gathered, and among them stood two stern-faced middle-aged wizards.

As soon as Lockhart appeared, one of them raised a parchment and read aloud, "Gilderoy Lockhart. You are hereby 'charged..."

The wizard's voice rang out like a gavel.

"You stand accused of fraud, unlawful alteration of wizard memories, and three additional counts of magical misconduct."

The color drained from Lockhart's face. His legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the floor, limp as a rag.

"You... you coordinated this rather neatly," he stammered, eyes wide with disbelief, as he was told to collect his stuff back from DADA's classroom, and have an hour of private reprieve to call on his lawyers.

xxxxxxx

Meanwhile in those very two days, first one somewhere else, a trio of Gryffindor had used the commotion, darting down a side passage, making their way to Myrtle's bathroom on Harry and Ron's request for protection.

Lucifer was pacing ahead of them when they suddenly heard an angry voice, "Potter! Weasley! Morningstar! What are you doing!?" The angry voice belonged to Professor McGonagall, and she was furious.

Ron began to stammer, "We were, we were----"

"We were going to see Hermione, P-Professor," Lucifer bit his tongue, he quickly said, tears forming in his eyes.

She looked at him, her fury lessening slightly.

"I-It's been so long... s-so long since I last saw her, wh-when I used to see her e-every day here at Hogwarts..."

The boy's voice was on the verge of breaking, it's really true, mostly all of the Professors even Dumbledore charmed the Hospital wing for any intruder, giving them a head-on signal of their name.

.....Even more so the area where petrified victims rested inside a completely separate portion of the wing from normal cold patients or someone like Gilderoy Lockhart.

Professor McGonagall's face softened completely, tears even formed in her own eyes, "Of course... of course, I understand this has been... been hardest on the friends of those who were attacked, I--yes, Morningstar... you, Potter, and Weasley may go and visit Miss Granger... I will inform Professor Binns of where you've gone. Let Madam Pomfrey know you've been given my permission to be there...."

The three of them walked away, in the direction of the Hospital Wing.

Just as they rounded corner, they heard distinct noise of Professor McGonagall blowing her nose.

"That..." Ron started, "was the greatest story you've ever come up with."

"It wasn't a story," Lucifer said wiping his eyes, and almost broke into a run to get to the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey had let them in, but only reluctantly, "Do not dawdle in here for too long," she said and went to check on something.

Lucifer stood beside Hermione, vision blurry as he stared at her, "Don't worry---" he stopped to calm himself down, "The Draught' is being brewed by Professore Snape, in a matter of few days..." he brushed a few stray hairs from her face. McGonagall in her momentarily joy had forgotten to take in account that--cause of using 'MoonClave manure' would require the couldron to be stirred longer than originally Draught' had required.

He noticed that her left fist was a bit larger than it should've been, "Potter.. check her left hand..."

He did and felt a piece of paper. Harry removed it from her hand and uncrumpled it, "A Basilisk? She wrote Sewers and pipes?"

It clicked the moment he said that.

Lucifer now understood why both Harry, and him could hear it, no one else. Since it was a magical beast, he couldn't be sure of the animal's voice, for who knew it might just be a huge rat or a chicken.

But, it was really a damn 'snake!'

And the only way it could get around the school would be the plumbing system they had discovered. It's gaze was deadly, but no one died because they never directly looked at its eyes, all saw it through other means.

Hermione used the hand mirror she was found with, Justin saw it through Nick, who can't die again, but he saw it directly, Colin saw it through his camera, and Mrs. Norris saw it reflected in the water on the floor.

The water came from Myrtle's bathroom. It all suddenly made sense to him.

'Hermione saw it first... she pieced it together first..." Lucifer thought to himself. And at that moment as if sent by God, Luna mentally contacted him. He was so worked up that he simply bolted from the Hospital Wing, leaving Harry and Ron looking dumbfounded.

.....

Pity.

A Dark Lord, and yet how many times had he been humiliated by Newt Scamander of all people? Weren't his great battles supposed to be with Dumbledore? Instead, it seemed Grindelwald had spent half his life getting tripped up by a magizoologist with a suitcase full of beasts.

For the first time, Lucifer understood why those Saints had once ambushed Newt. Scamander really had a way of ruining other people's plans.

"It's all in the past, old man," He said at last, trying to soothe the tension, so that he could get useful information, "Decades ago. Why keep fuming about it now? You're Grindelwald, after all-a Dark Lord. Surely your perspective should be larger than this?"

Grindelwald let out a cold laugh. "Perspective? Don't lecture me about perspective, boy. Of course I have it. Do you think I'm some petty island peasant like Voldemort? But when it comes to Scamander, I want nothing more than to tear him apart with my bare hands."

He leaned forward, his eyes burning. "Devil', if you help me thrash Scamander--'just once--I swear this anger of mine will vanish."

Lucifer recoiled, shaking his head so quickly his hair swayed. "Out of the question. Newt's helped me too much. Without him, I wouldn't even have founded a Thunderbird.."

He smirked, half-joking but serious underneath. "Besides, do you know what it means to be 'Scamander-certified? With Newt's endorsement, I'm practically an honorary Hufflepuff. Every badger I meet treats me like a long-lost cousin."

Grindelwald's face darkened. Steam practically poured from his ears.

Of all the insults in the world, praising Scamander in front of him was the cruellest. Yet he couldn't deny the truth of Lucifer's words.

Wasn't it Scamander's favor that had smoothed the way for Nicolas Flamel to take an immediate liking to him? Not because he'd come on Dumbledore's recommendation, but because Lucifer had spent half a month under Newt's wing first.

Wasn't it Scamander's reputation that had made Pomona, so stubborn with others, agree at once to give Whomping Willow branches to Lucifer? It wasn't this boy's handsome face that had done it--it was 'Scamander's unspoken backing!'

Grindelwald clenched his jaw. In comparison, he had done nothing useful for Lucifer at all. 'Have I really been outshone by a man who plays with Nifflers and bowtruckles?'

For the first time, Grindelwald felt the hollow despair of losing relevance. Once, he had shaken the wizarding world. Now, trapped in this tower, even his influence couldn't compete with Newt's.

For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he should leave 'Nurmengard,' escape the tower and re-enter the world. But the thought withered as soon as it came.

His true body was frail and broken after 'fifty years' of imprisonment. What could he possibly achieve outside? Even being forcibly awakened now made him realised...

Out there, he was nothing more than a shadow of himself.

"Old man, what's running through your head?" Lucifer finally asked, curious at Grindelwald's long silence. 'Don't tell me this Dark Lord is brooding himself into depression.'

Grindelwald shook it off, his composure snapping back into place. "I was merely wondering why you suddenly asked about basilisks. Don't tell me you plan to raise one yourself?"

Lucifer snorted. "Hardly. The thing's more trouble than 'it's worth. Haven't you been informed at what's going on here exactly?"

Grindelwald chuckled, eyes glinting, only if the reptile had gotten Rolf, "One basilisk is trouble. But a dozen? An army? Numbers make power. If my basilisk legion had been born... the war's end might have been very different..."

"Then you must have had a way to look them in the eye without dying. I don't want distractions or test myself in that situation," Lucifer leaned forward eagerly. "Otherwise, how could you possibly control them?"

Grindelwald's lips curled into a wry smile, "Of course. A spell of my own design. 'Simplicity itself'--just a charm that blurs the perception of another being, creating a blind spot in its vision..."

He demonstrated. And sure enough, Lucifer mastered it in a single try. A neat little trick-subtle, effective, and infinitely useful.

But he didn't stop there. He immediately began sketching magical runes, converting the robes into a physical enchantment. Before long, he had found a way that could distort a 'basilisk's deadly gaze.'

Lucifer cut off the contact with Gellert, and quickly he reached the floor where Luna was in.

....

Meanwhile, Astoria hurried Ginny along narrow staircases and shortcuts, taking paths that led straight to the sixth floor.

Ginny's nerves prickled. Something about this was off. Why would Ravenclaws drag Luna all the way here--so close to the Headmaster's office of all places?

But Astoria was flushed, breathless, her frail body trembling with exertion as she ran. That effort, that seeming desperation, disarmed Ginny's doubts. She didn't press further.

Lucifer had left the door to the Room ajar. Astoria burst through, Ginny on her heels. The younger Weasley froze at the sight.

Luna was indeed inside--but unharmed, sitting placidly as if waiting. And beside her, in the center of the room, stood Lucifer Morningstar.

Ginny's face drained of all color. She spun on her heel to flee.

A snap of Lucifer's fingers.

"Incarcerous."

Golden ropes shot from the air, twining around Ginny with serpentine precision, knotting themselves in patterns too complex to wriggle free. She was yanked upward, dangling helplessly from the wall like a puppet.

Lucifer eyed her with faint amusement. A pity she was just eleven-'no grace, no curves'--his ropework wasted on such a scrawny frame.

Ginny's wide, horrified eyes darted to Luna. "Luna-'you betrayed me?!"

Luna tilted her head, unbothered. "No, Ginny. He really did catch me first."

Lucifer conjured a chair with a flick, guiding the exhausted Astoria to sit and handing her a glass of water. Only then did he stroll to stand before Ginny, meeting her panicked gaze.

"So tell me, Weasley," he asked quietly, "why did you try to run the moment you saw me?"

Ginny swallowed hard, looking away. "Because only an idiot wouldn't! This is obviously a trap!"

Lucifer chuckled. "Smart girl. Then be smarter still. Why do you think I set a trap for you?"

"I-I don't know!" Ginny stammered, writhing against the ropes. "Just let me down--'it hurts hanging like this!"

She struggled desperately, but the ropes only constricted tighter. Worse still, they looped around her in... rather awkward places.

"Smart girls shouldn't play dumb," Lucifer sighed. "Lovegood here just told me-every time you hear my name, you see me, you react. Strangely. Nervously."

He tilted his head, eyes boring into her. "And yet... you and I have never had a single dispute to make animosity between us before. Care to explain why?"

"I don't understand what you're talking about, 'Morningstar!" Ginny shot back, her voice trembling but stubborn. "If you don't let me go right now, I'll tell Professor McGonagall! No matter how good your grades are, the school would never allow you to--"

"Yes," Lucifer interrupted softly, nodding. "The school would never allow someone who can open the 'Chamber of Secrets' to stay here... isn't that right?"

The blood drained from Ginny's face. She stared at him in horror. That reaction alone was all Astoria and Luna needed. They exchanged a look-wide-eyed, confused, shaken.

Salazar Slytherin chose... a Gryffindor as his heir? What kind of twisted joke was this?

"'I-It wasn't me! It really wasn't me!" Ginny wailed, sobs tearing through her chest. "I didn't open the Chamber! I didn't hurt Hermione, Penelope or Mrs. Norris! I don't know anything, especially not Colin!"

Her voice cracked as she spiraled into hysteria. "I don't know why I keep blacking out--why I wake up with blood and feathers on me! I don't know 'what's happening!"

Her eyes lifted, wet and terrified, to Lucifer, "I will tell, I will tell, Tom Riddle-'that name-it'shis name!' He's so much more terrifying than you!"

"That man?" Luna's dreamy voice sharpened as she stepped closer. She glanced at Lucifer, "Uncle... let her down. She's on the edge."

For once, he relented. With a flick of his wand, the ropes loosened, dropping Ginny into a heap on the floor. She curled in on herself, sobbing weakly.

Astoria gave Luna a funny look as she crouched beside the ginger, frowning. "Weasley... was he someone you met outside school?"

"N-No..." Ginny hiccupped, voice breaking. "He's not a person at all. He's... a diary. A diary from fifty years ago. There was Tom Riddle then-he was Head Boy. He was kind... understanding..."

"Potter's diary..."

Luna and Astoria's eyes widened as the truth dawned.

Luna's brows knit together, "A sentient magical object. That's dangerous. 'Almost certainly black magic..."

Ginny only wept harder.

With a lazy curl of his finger, Lucifer summoned the diary from her robes. It floated into his hand, and looked just as he remembered--a shabby, worn-out little book, no different at first glance from a dozen others in any "secondhand shop."

Yet there was a change about it's magical signature now, Astoria stiffened, and even Luna's expression grew tense.

"Seems we've found our culprit," Lucifer said lightly, turning the diary over in his palm, "It's been hiding whenever I am near, however fragment has gotten too strong now. To be precise--the one opening the Chamber isn't Ginny. It's 'this book."

He crouched, eye-level with the trembling redhead. "Enough crying. It's pathetic, and honestly, it's grating to the ears. Tell me everything-clearly, from the start-or I'll tell the whole school you were the one opening the Chamber. Imagine situation worse than Lockhart."

Ginny's sobs caught in her throat. A hiccup escaped, and she clamped her mouth shut, forcing the tears back. She stared at him, terror in her eyes.

To her, Tom Riddle was no longer just frightening. Lucifer was worse than the Dark Lord himself--because even when she broke down in tears, he remained unmoved. No comfort, no kindness-'only disdain!'

And with the threat of eternal humiliation hanging over her, she had no choice but to obey. Haltingly, between shaky breaths, Ginny confessed.

She'd stumbled upon the diary by accident, hidden among a pile of secondhand books in her cauldron. At first, it was harmless-an oddity that could answer her words on the page.

A toy. A distraction.

But then she discovered "Tom Riddle" was kind. Thoughtful. Understanding. A perfect confidant. Slowly, she grew addicted, writing to him constantly, carrying the diary with her everywhere, pouring out her secrets.

"Congratulations," Lucifer said dryly. "You've been catfished."

"Cat... what?" Astoria blinked, puzzled.

"It's like..." Lucifer smirked. "Imagine using 'Enchanted Origami's' to talk to some stranger you've never met. You don't know who they are, what they look like, or even if they're male or female. But you convince yourself they're the perfect friend. Your soulmate. The kindest person alive."

Astoria's jaw dropped. "There are people that stupid?"

Lucifer jerked his chin toward Ginny. "You're looking at one."

Ginny wanted to sink into the floor. Her head hung so low her chin nearly touched her chest. Her cheeks burned with shame, and though she fought to hold them back, fresh tears welled up again. 'Stop! Please stop! I get it-I'm an idiot!'

Even without knowing what "Catfish" was, she understood perfectly well what he meant. The comparison stung like a whip.

"So the diary manipulated her into opening the Chamber?" Luna asked quietly.

Ginny shook her head frantically. "I didn't! I never wanted to! I don't remember doing any of it!"

"You wouldn't," Lucifer replied coolly. Silver threads shot from his wand, wrapping the diary in shimmering webs of magic, binding it tight. "It's similar to the 'Imperius Curse.' It erased your memories--but that doesn't mean you didn't do it."

"Then give it to Dumbledore immediately," Astoria urged.

"No rush..." Lucifer smiled thinly, spinning the sealed diary in his hand, "It's not every day you meet someone with a soul fragment. I'd like to play with it a little first--then I'll let the Headmaster deal with the headache."

"Then... what about me?" Ginny asked in a tiny, broken voice.

"You?" Lucifer tilted his head, eyes narrowing, "Weasley... tell me where the Chamber is? You don't want anyone to know what you've done, do you?"

Her heart lurched.

"I d-don't know. I don't remember anything clearly!"

"Then you'll do as I say, try hard to remember where entrance is," he continued smoothly, almost gently. "From now on, you'll listen. Quietly. Obediently. Because this little secret..." He tapped the diary against his palm, "...is mine to keep. For life."

Ginny collapsed against the wall, her face ashen, her body trembling. She knew then her future was ruined, no maybe she was saved. Her freedom was given at last, Lucifer wouldn't make her do anything bad if she told Hermione.

From this day forward, she had escaped Tom Riddle's shadow.

And in her heart, she was a bit thankful.

.....

Ginny's muffled sobs still echoed faintly in the air, her small body trembling. Astoria and Luna, though both already shocked by Lucifer's bold accusations earlier, found themselves stunned once again-this time by the boy's utterly ruthless, unflinching way of handling things.

Astoria had never seen him treat someone like this before. He wasn't just scolding; he was toying with Ginny, bending her into obedience with words as sharp as a knife. Still, she said nothing in Ginny's defense.

After all, Ginny had nearly caused a disaster. Punishment, harsh as it was, seemed fair.

Luna, meanwhile, tilted her head as if hearing music no one else could. Her peculiar intuition whispered that Lucifer harbored no true malice. His cruelty was more performance than venom, perhaps meant to frighten Ginny into 'submission'--or simply a reflection of his dark sense of humor.

Either way, Luna wasn't worried at all.

"Stand up," he ordered, shaking the diary in his hand like a leash. The meaning was plain. Ginny rose like a puppet on strings, hollow-eyed and obedient.

Lucifer reached into his robes, produced a slim black notebook, and pressed it into her hands, "Since I confiscated your precious diary, Ginny Weasley, I'll give you another."

Before Ginny could answer, he turned and tossed a second one toward Luna, "You too, Lovegood. Astoria will teach you both how to use them."

Astoria's eyes sparkled with pride as she explained the enchanted notebooks. Soon Ginny, blinking through her tears, was testing them out-scribbling a line to Luna, then to Astoria, watching the words blossom on their pages.

Wonder gradually replaced lingering mixed feelings of despair, if only for a moment.

"This... this was your invention?" she asked softly.

"Of course it was Lucifer's," Astoria cut in before he could speak, chest puffed out like she'd done the work herself, "It's brilliant! Even when you go home, you'll still be able to talk to Luna instantly. No owls, no waiting. Just write. You live in the same village, so it's magic' will suffice."

Ginny frowned a little, whispering, "But... Like you said, Luna and I live in the same village. One on the hill, one in the valley. We can walk to each other's houses in minutes."

Astoria froze, her cheeks flushing. "That's... different! You still have to climb that hill, don't you? Writing in a notebook is far more convenient!"

Ginny nodded gravely, as if considering it a sound argument. "That's true."

She and Luna weren't mere school friends, after all. Their bond went further back-childhood companions before tragedy reshaped Luna into the odd, dreamy girl she was now.

Ginny couldn't help sneaking a glance at Lucifer, biting her lip. What is it with 'strangeboys' and notebooks...? She'd rather fantasize about Harry Potter.

But her musings shattered under Lucifer's next command.

"You like writing so much? Good. From now on, every day you'll report to me. What you did, what you saw, when you ate, when you slept. Everything. Miss a day, or hide something from me, and..."

He didn't finish. He didn't need to. The cold smile said enough.

Ginny shivered violently, shrinking in on herself. "I-I understand..." she whispered. Then, in a tiny, desperate voice: "But... will you promise not to tell the professors? Not even the Headmaster?"

Her pleading eyes searched his face, clinging to hope. Surely, after all this, it would end here.

But Lucifer's answer was a calm, merciless shake of the head.

"No. Dumbledore will know. He's the Headmaster; this is too serious to hide 'fromhim'. But... he'll probably cover for you like he did with me. Keep it quiet from the other professors."

Ginny exhaled shakily. That was something, at least. If her family and classmates never found out, she could still go on living. Barely.

Lucifer waved dismissively, "Enough. Go. 'Lovego---Luna -thanks for helping me today. Consider the favor returned, in time."

Luna smiled knowingly which irked him greatly.

'This girl... she played me into gaining my favour.'

Ginny grabbed Luna's hand and fled the room as if escaping Azkaban itself. Yet once the heavy door closed behind her, she realized... she felt oddly lighter. The secret was out, the truth dragged into daylight. And though it was terrifying, at least it was settled. The gnawing dread of endless unknowns was gone, right?

She turned back. The strange door had vanished, leaving only a blank stretch of stone wall. 'What in Merlin's name happened to me on sixth floor?'

xxxxx

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