She was sitting in the Great Hall waiting for Lucifer to come down after freshening up, taking an agonizingly long time. She fidgeted with the hem of her robes until a sharp shadow fell across her table.
Professor McGonagall stood there, her expression a mask of stern formality, "Miss Granger, could I ask that you follow me please?"
Hermione looked up, her heart doing a nervous little flutter at the sight of her Head of House. "Of course, Professor," She said quickly, then scrambled to gather her scattered parchment and books, the heavy scent of old ink and parchment flaring in her nose, before hurrying behind McGonagall out of double doors.
Upon reaching the cavernous, stone chill Entrance Hall, she hurried her pace to walk side-by-side with the older witch. "Where are we going, Professor?"
"The Headmaster's Office. Do not worry, you are not in trouble," McGonagall said, her crisp Scottish brogue cutting through quiet hallway quickly, ensuring Hermione had no time to spiral into frantic panic.
"Oh no... wait, did Lucifer get himself in trouble again?" Hermione asked, her mind immediately jumping to the most chaotic variable in her life. "He wasn't down for dinner yet either."
"All will be explained in due time, Miss Granger," McGonagall said smoothly. Hermione took the hint, sealing her lips and letting rhythmic 'clack-clack' of their boots against the cold flagstones fill the silence.
After navigating a labyrinth of moving staircases and torch-lit corridors, they arrived before the massive, brooding stone Gargoyle. McGonagall cleared her throat and spoke the password, "Sherbert Lemon.
With a heavy, grinding groan of moving rock, the gargoyle stepped aside. A spiral stone staircase slowly ascended from the floor like a twisting spine. Hermione stepped onto it behind her Head of House, feeling gentle hum of magic vibrating through the soles of her shoes as they rose.
At the top, McGonagall gave a sharp rap on heavy oak door and pushed it open a moment later.
Hermione stepped into breathtakingly impressive, circular room. It was her very 'first' time seeing it. The air was thick with the scent of silver instruments, whirring and puffing little puffs of green smoke, and the soft, melodic trill of Fawkes the phoenix warming corner.
At the far end, behind a vast, cluttered wooden desk, sat Albus Dumbledore.
"Miss Granger, thank you for coming."
"Of course... What's this about, Headmaster?" She asked, her voice sounding small amidst the towering shelves of sleeping portraits. She followed McGonagall up to the desk, sinking into a plush, chintz armchair when prompted.
"Well, I can assure you that it's not about Lucifer," Dumbledore chuckled, his bright blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles.
Hermione felt a sudden, fierce heat bloom across her cheeks, her face burning with slight embarrassment.
"It actually concerns the Second Task for tomorrow," Dumbledore continued, his tone shifting to something more profound. "Now, should you choose to decline, I must swear you to Secrecy with a capital S that you 'will not' tell anyone that does not already know what I am about to share...."
"Of course, I shan't say a word," She agreed, straightening her posture and becoming completely serious.
"I would expect nothing less. Tomorrow, each Champion will have to rescue a hostage from underneath the freezing depths of the Black Lake. Their 'thing they'll sorely miss', so to speak. Do not worry, as you will come to absolutely no harm should you accept. A powerful magical slumber will protect you. The Merpeople will hold four hostages and are really there only to ensure that one hostage per person is taken... Now, as I have come to understand it, Harry had a rather nasty row with Mister Weasley, so Ronald won't be regarded as a proper hostage. The other two people Harry spends his time with are you and Lucifer. However, I know for sure he won't ever agree to my terms. Then the only person left is you, Miss Granger?"
"Well, you... you could say that, yes," She said, her voice stuttering slightly over the words. "Are you asking me if I want to be his Hostage?"
"Precisely."
"But still, wouldn't you think that Ron would've made a better choice, Professor?" Hermione rambled, her hands gesturing quickly. "Harry spends far more time with him than both of us. Oh, I'm rambling, aren't I?"
"Nothing I'm not used to, I assure you," Dumbledore said with a warm, wrinkly smile. "I did consider Mister Weasley. But I'd be lying if his choice to leave Harry at a time when he was needed most didn't heavily influence... 'my decision'. From what I have witnessed over the years, it is you Harry values the most amongst friends in the deepest chambers of his heart. So, do I take it you are declining?"
"I don't mind being his hostage, honest, but..." Hermione trailed off, her fingers tight around her robes.
"You are concerned about Lucifer getting angry?" Dumbledore deduced correctly, a knowing slope to his silver eyebrows.
"Yes! I don't know what he will do to Hogwarts, to be honest," Hermione admitted, sudden image of a leveled castle flashing in her mind. She tried desperately to keep her voice calm, but a tremor slipped through.
"Yes, unfortunately, I don't have any magical means to stop him at the moment. Not without a drop of blood, as you say..." Dumbledore trailed off for a fleeting moment, looking out the dark window. "But I can tell that he cares a great deal for you, Miss Granger. His rather explosive actions to defend you against Mister Graham proves that."
Hermione felt her face flush a violent, rosy crimson. A surge of fierce determination washed away her fear. She nodded firmly. "I'll be Harry's hostage, Professor Dumbledore."
The old wizard smiled softly. "When you go to sleep tonight, Miss Granger, Professor McGonagall will collect you in the middle of the night without waking you. Have a good night."
"You too, Professor," She smiled, standing up on slightly shaky legs.
She walked out of the office, the cool night air of corridors shocking her senses as she returned to Gryffindor Tower. Dinner was long over by then anyway. As she walked, the heavy tension in her chest melted into a fond, nostalgic amusement.
She began to ponder a golden evening back in their first year. Lucifer had impulsively decided to dive into the Black Lake, searching for a rare Mermaid's shell. Instead of treasure, he had accidentally swam directly into a massive school of irritated squids. No one knew if they were related to the Giant Squid, but they certainly possessed the same weapon.
In a chaotic explosion of bubbles, they had sprayed him entirely with thick, pitch-black ink. In an instant, the elegant, pristine boy had been turned into a dirty silhouette, smelling strongly of brine and murky sludge.
Furious, and completely forgetting all about his elegant hunt, Lucifer had snapped. With a terrifying flex of his power, he rounded up the entire squirming squid swarm into a single, wriggling mass. With a dull thud that shook shoreline, he slammed them directly into the lakebed, burying them outright in the muck just to vent his majestic anger.
Walking up Gryffindor stairs, Hermione let out a bright, musical giggle, covering her mouth with her hand so the passing portraits wouldn't stare.
xxxxxxx
Lucifer awoke exactly at eight o'clock, the crisp morning light piercing through heavy velvet curtains of his private quarters. He dressed quickly, a cold prickle of unease sharpening his senses. Hurrying down to the Gryffindor Common Room, his eyes swept the plush scarlet armchairs, but they were frustratingly empty.
No Hermione.
He had distinctly watched her head up to girls' dormitories the previous night. By his calculations, she should have already bursting into his room, eager to play or drag him into a morning study session. Her absence felt like a sudden drop in atmospheric pressure.
Driven by a growing worry, he strode directly to the Great Hall for breakfast. The air inside was thick with the scent of sizzling sausages, fried tomatoes, and the nervous energy of hundreds of gossiping students. He had barely sat down when Eve slid into the seat directly across from him. Her expression was a storm cloud of irritation and hurt.
"May I ask why you have been avoiding me?" She demanded, crossing her arms tightly.
"Morning, Eve," Lucifer said, his tone deliberately polite, though his eyes kept scanning the Gryffindor table. "I've been too busy for social interaction the past couple of weeks, and I apologize for that.... I've come to learn what I've been doing is simply not possible to achieve here at Hogwarts. I'll have to take care of it over the summer."
"What were you doing that was so incredibly important that you couldn't even talk to me?" Eve asked, her voice cracking slightly as her eyes softened with genuine hurt.
"I'm sorry... I really can't talk about it," Lucifer replied regretfully, the mystery of his secret project hanging heavily between them. Sensing the tension, he tried to offer an olive branch. "But... best of luck to your school for the Second Task today." He meant it with entirely pure intentions.
Eve searched his face, studying the sharp line of his jaw and the sincerity in his eyes. Slowly, the ice melted, and a familiar, fond smile broke across her face. "I cannot stay mad at you, Luce. And thank you. I hope all of our champions do well, honestly."
Lucifer checked the enchanted ceiling, where dark winter clouds mirrored his mood. "Where on earth is Harry? The Task is set to start incredibly soon..." He let out a heavy sigh, pushing his untouched plate away. "I'm going to go up and see if he's overslept."
"Okay, I have to go and get ready myself. See you in the stands!" Eve stood up in tandem with him. They walked out of the bustling Great Hall together, but parted ways at the heavy oak front doors.
She headed out into the biting winter air, while Lucifer turned on his heel and bolted back up the grand marble staircase toward Gryffindor Tower.
He practically burst through the portrait hole and stormed straight up the spiral stairs to boys' dormitories. He threw the door open with a resounding bang.
"Potter, time to get up!" Lucifer yelled, his voice echoing off the stone walls. The heavy four-poster beds were silent, and the crimson curtains around Harry's bed remained tightly drawn. "Potter! Up! Now!"
Getting no response, he strode over, his patience evaporating. "I'm going to count to three. If you aren't out of this bed and ready for the Task, the Magical Contract will be broken, and you'll be killed by it." He paused, letting the grim warning hang in the air before deliberately skipping the sequence. "Three!"
Lucifer violently flung the curtains back. The mattress was empty, the sheets cold and rumpled. Harry wasn't there, "I swear... I'm going to kill him myself if that blasted Magical Contract doesn't do it first," he growled under his breath.
Turning on his heel, Lucifer bolted out of the room, flew down through the Common Room, and tore down corridors. A sudden, sharp inkling flared in his mind, the Library.
If Harry was panicking, that's where he'd go, he slowed his pace just enough to enter the Library casually, his eyes cutting through the rows of towering bookshelves smelling of old glue and dust. Sure enough, at a secluded desk in the back, sat his raven-haired friend, frantically flipping through a heavy tome.
"Potter," Lucifer said, stepping into the dim light of the study alcove.
"Lucifer, what is it?" Harry muttered, not even looking up. His eyes were bloodshot, frantically scanning a complex diagram in a book titled 'A Guide to Water-Based Herbology.'
"The Task starts in minutes. You need to get down to the Black Lake and get ready, right now."
"What?" Harry finally looked up, his eyes darting to a grandfather clock in the corner. His face drained of all color. "It's time?!"
"Sssshhhhh!" Madam Pince's sharp, whip-like hiss echoed from three aisles over, accompanied by the aggressive rattling of her feather duster.
Harry didn't care. He practically leaped over his chair, sprinting out of the Library with Lucifer following closely at an effortless, sweeping jog. They burst through the massive Castle Doors, their breath pluming into white clouds as they raced across the frosty lawns, heading straight for massive wooden stands erected at the edge of the dark, churning water.
Lucifer stopped running at the shoreline, letting Harry scramble off toward the Champions' tent. He proceeded to walk up into the tiers of the roaring stands. His eyes instantly swept the crowd, but the familiar bushy mane of hair was nowhere to be found.
He did, however, spot a flash of red hair, so he marched over and dropped heavily into the bench next to Ron Weasley.
"Hey, have you seen Hermione?" Lucifer asked without preamble, his voice tight.
"No, I haven't seen her all morning," Ron said, gripping the wooden railing as he looked down anxiously at the shoreline where the Champions were gathering. "It's brilliant you found Harry, though. But honestly, I actually haven't seen Cho Chang either. Not that I was looking for her or anything! But I just noticed she wasn't around when I was scanning the crowd for Hermione."
Lucifer's eyes narrowed into slits as he stared out at black, impenetrable surface of the lake. A cold, dark realization began to take root in his chest, "Weird..." he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as a dangerous aura began to ripple imperceptibly around him.
xxxxxx
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