Lucifer limped all the way back down to the kitchen and retook his seat at the end of the long wooden table, finding his discarded plate of dinner to be only mildly warm.
He heard the heavy oak door creak open behind him as the rest of the household filtered back in, but he didn't turn his head. His entire muscular frame was rigid; it simply would have hurt far too much to twist his torso like that after such violent trauma.
"Lucifer, what on earth—" Lupin started to ask, his voice thick with concern as he stepped toward the boy.
"I don't want to talk about it," Lucifer responded quickly, his voice slicing through the room with a flat, final tone.
"But you were completely impaled—" Molly started to say, her maternal instincts flaring as she wrung her hands.
Lucifer slammed his open palm onto the wooden table with a resounding 'CRACK' that made the goblets rattle. "I said, I don't want to talk about it!"
An immediate, suffocating silence fell over the kitchen. Lucifer closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose. He held the breath for precisely four seconds, mastering the burning sensation in his chest, and then slowly exhaled. "Can we... can we just go about this evening as though absolutely nothing happened?"
Sirius Black studied him for a long, quiet moment before leaning back in his creaking wooden seat. "Sure thing, Morningstar. There is actually something I've been wanting to ask anyway. Harry?" He turned his grey eyes to his godson. "But let's wait until after we've all finished eating, okay?"
Harry retook his own seat, nodding mutely to Sirius. Slowly, the low hum of idle chatter refilled the cavernous room, but there was an obvious, thick tension hanging in the damp air. Nobody dared look directly at the splinter-scarred wood of the table.
Hermione shifted closer on the bench, her brown eyes searching his pale face with a fierce, quiet intensity. "You saw the worst of it..." Lucifer whispered to her, his voice a barely audible murmur. "I'll be okay... eventually."
"I know that, Lucifer, but..." She paused, her fingers tightly wrapping around the handle of her fork as she struggled to find the right words to say. "Why does the absolute worst stuff always have to happen to you if it's not happening to Harry?"
"It is not just me," Lucifer said softly, turning his dark eyes to look directly at her. "You have endured far more than your fair share of it as well over these past few years, Hermione. Think about it. The Troll in our first year... the Basilisk in our second year, which was also the exact catalyst for Graham's wretched pure-blood tendencies... Weasley and Harry being utterly insufferable and angry with you in our third year... and that whole disgusting Rita Skeeter business last year. You've weathered far more than any young witch should ever have to."
"You know how incredibly ironic that is coming from you, right?" Hermione whispered. Despite the dark gravity of the evening, she couldn't entirely stop the small, fond smirk that threatened to appear on her lips.
"Yeah, I suppose so," Lucifer said, his features softening into a genuine smile as they continued eating their dinner in their own quiet world.
It wasn't until after everyone had finished a generous helping or two of warm rhubarb crumble and thick custard that Molly Weasley broke the lull. "Nearly time for bed, I think," She said, letting out a loud yawn just as she finished speaking, already reaching to clear the bowls.
"Not just yet, Molly," Sirius said firmly, pushing his empty plate away. "I wanted to talk to Harry, remember?" He turned his sharp gaze back to his godson. "You know, Harry, I'm genuinely surprised at you. I completely thought the very first thing you'd do when you walked through that front door would be to start asking us questions about Voldemort."
The atmosphere in the basement kitchen changed at the absolute beat of a heart. Mere seconds before, everyone had been relaxed, looking as though they could easily fall asleep right at the table. Now, every single adult was hyper-alert, their bodies going tense, especially the Weasleys.
A sharp frisson of raw fear went through them at the mere mention of his name. Remus Lupin, who had been right about to take a sip of his red wine, lowered his silver goblet slowly to the wood, his face looking instantly wary.
"I did!" Harry yelled, his voice rising in mild indignation as he gestured defensively. "I asked Ron and Hermione the second I got up to the bedroom! But they said they weren't allowed anywhere near the kitchen during the meetings because they aren't officially a part of the Order, so—"
"And they are quite right," Molly interrupted sharply, straightening her posture. "You are all far too young. It's an adult matter."
"When---" Lucifer started to speak, a cutting remark forming on his tongue, but when Molly completely talked over him, he simply leaned his weight back in his chair, his eyes narrowing into cold slits as he waited for the right moment to strike.
"Since when did a wizard have to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix to ask basic questions about his own life?" Sirius demanded, his voice hardening as he glared across the table at her. "Harry has been trapped, locked away in that miserable Muggle house for an entire month, completely out of the loop. Except for when Lucifer broke the rules to be there for him." Then turned his head quickly to the said boy, "Thank you for that, by the way, Morningstar."
Lucifer closed his eyes briefly, nodding his head in a slow, aristocratic gesture of acknowledgment before keeping his gaze fixed on the unfolding argument.
Sirius turned right back to Molly. "The boy has a right to know what's been happen---"
"Hang on a independent minute!" George interrupted loudly, slamming his hands down.
"How come Harry gets his questions answered?!" Fred asked, his voice thick with sudden anger.
"We've been holed up in this rotting house trying to get a single shred of information out of you for a month, and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!" George yelled, gesturing wildly at his parents.
"'You're far too young, you're not in the Order!'" Fred mocked in a high-pitched, shrill voice that sounded uncannily like his mother's standard lecture tone. "Harry's not even legally of age yet!"
"It is not my fault you haven't been told what the Order is doing," Sirius said calmly, refusing to back down under the sibling onslaught. "That is entirely your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand—"
"It is absolutely not down to you to decide what is good for Harry!" Molly said, her voice dropping into a sharp, venomous register.
Lucifer chose that exact millisecond to strike. He let out a low, dangerous chuckle that instantly silenced the cross-chatter at the table.
"So... I suppose it's down to Albus Dumbledore, then?" He asked, his voice dripping with an icy sarcasm. "The very same wise headmaster who left Harry entirely at the mercy of those abusive Muggles for years? The one who systematically sends him back to that suburban hellhole every single summer? That Dumbledore? The man who explicitly ordered that Harry... be completely ignored and left isolated by Hermione, Weasley, and pretty much every single person sitting in this room except for me? He's the one who automatically knows what's best for Harry?"
Lucifer began rising into a straight, towering sitting position the entire time he spoke, the presence of his authority expanding into the stone room. "By leaving a traumatized, mentally broken 'fourteen-year-old' completely on his own for almost a month after watching a schoolmate get murdered? You're talking about 'that' fucking Albus Dumbledore?!"
Molly looked completely at a loss for words, her mouth opening slightly. She looked utterly unable to believe she was being talked to with such scathing defiance by a fifteen-year-old wizard,.and that he was openly dragging Dumbledore's sacred reputation through the dirt.
Lucifer's body ached all over from the residual trauma of the Boggart explosion, but he successfully resisted the urge to let a single person in the room see him flinch. He pushed himself up, standing fully on his feet, his tall frame dominating the end of the table. "Either you explain everything, and I mean 'everything: you know about Voldemort's movements right now... or I walk out of this house."
"If Lucifer leaves, I go with him," Hermione said instantly. She stood up directly alongside him, her chin held high, her hand gripping the strap of her bag. "I didn't even want to come to this grim house in the first place, honestly. Something inside told me I should be here, but if he leaves, I am leaving tonight."
"You're only fifteen! You're both still children in school---" Molly tried to scream, desperate to justify her control, reason for not telling any of them anything.
"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO ME THIS WAY!"
Lucifer's voice shifted, dropping an octave into a terrifying, demonic resonance that vibrated through the very foundation of stone floor. His eyes flared into a burning, brilliant crimson that cast a horrific red glow across the dark kitchen. The absolute power in his voice silenced entire room, forcing even the air to feel heavy and thin, "I have done more to protect the students of that school in four years than most people in this room have done in twenty plus!" he snarled, his gaze locking onto Molly.
"I have faced death numerous times while your Order sits in kitchens. And with Voldemort back," Every single Weasley violently shuddered at the name, "Hermione's future as a 'Muggle-born' is actively at stake. Why the hell shouldn't we know everything you know?"
Molly insisted under her breath that Harry was just a child who shouldn't have to carry adult burdens, but even Lucifer's internal thoughts disagreed with a passion. 'What does being a biological child matter to magic?' Apart from Sirius, not a single person in this house, not even Remus Lupin---had physically faced Voldemort's direct wrath as many times as Harry Potter had. The boy had weathered major historical storms.
Even if the bureaucracy wouldn't let him formally join the 'Order of the Phoenix,' keeping him blind was an act of cruelty.
'Drop... Thud...'
A sudden, terrifying weight seemed to press down upon the occupants of Grimmauld Place. A primal feeling of pure dread slithered through the kitchen. Even Hermione looked a bit shaken up inside by the intensity radiating from him, while Molly Weasley looked as if someone had just poured a bucket of freezing lake water directly down her spine. The demonic red in Lucifer's eyes slowly receded, leaving a tense, ringing silence.
"Very well..." She whispered, her face completely pale, Mrs. Weasely turned to her children, her voice trembling but strict. "Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George---I want you out of this kitchen right now!"
An instant uproar erupted around the table.
"We're of age!" Fred and George bellowed in perfect unison, standing up from their chairs.
"If Harry's allowed to stay and listen, why can't I?!" Ron shouted, his face turning red.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Molly cut across her with a screech. "NO!" the Matriarch shouted, standing up. But her short stature barely made it look as though she had left her seat at all compared to Lucifer. "I absolutely forbid—"
"Molly, you physically cannot stop Fred and George," Arthur said wearily, placing a hand on his wife's arm. "They are of age, dear..."
"They are still in school!"
"But they are legally adults now under Wizarding law," Her husband said in the same tired voice. All of these recent Ministry crackdowns had clearly taken a massive physical toll on him.
Molly's face turned a violent scarlet. "I, oh, all right then! Fred and George can stay. But Ron, Hermione, Ginny... out!"
"With all due respect, Molly," Hermione said, her voice dropping into a remarkably calm as she stared back at her. "You are not my mother. You cannot force me to leave this kitchen. And even if you do, Lucifer will just tell me every single detail he is told anyway."
"And Harry will tell me too!" Ron added quickly, turning to look at his friend. "Won't—won't you, Harry?"
Harry looked at Ron for a fraction of a second. Lucifer watched his green eyes click, clearly thinking about the logistics of keeping secrets, before he sighed. "Course I will," he answered.
Ron instantly beamed at him, crossing his arms in triumph.
"Fine!" Molly shouted, throwing her hands in the air. "Fine! Ginny—BED!"
Ginny did not go quietly. The entire kitchen could hear her raging, shouting, and violently storming at her mother all the way up the narrow stone stairs. And the second her stomping boots reached the ground floor hall, the vibration woke up Mrs. Black's portrait, adding her ear-splitting, blood-curdling shrieks to the family din.
"Excuse me for a brief moment," Lucifer said, as he turned and limped out of the kitchen doors, following the sound of the screaming.
After a few minutes of waiting at the kitchen table, the deafening shrieking from the level above suddenly died out completely, plunging the house into a profound, peaceful quiet. Sirius Black wore a highly amused, hopeful expression on his face as he looked toward the door.
Lucifer returned a moment later, casually sliding back into his seat next to Hermione. He brushed a stray thread from his repaired shirt. "That's taken care of, permanently."
xxxxxx
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