As they walked out, Lucifer couldn't deny that the systemic perks of the position were decent. Beyond the authority, having access to a completely private, luxury train compartment, the legendary Prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor, and the exclusive staff lounge where student leaders held entry rights made the hassle almost worthwhile.
On the long walk down the swaying corridors to find Harry, Ron, and Ginny, Hermione's blood was still practically boiling. She rounded on him, her voice a sharp whisper over the clattering of the tracks. "Why did you have to do that, Lucifer? I was just asking a perfectly legitimate question!"
"That's completely beside the point, love. Bringing up your personal grievances to the Head Boy and Head Girl in front of the other houses wasn't professional," Lucifer explained, his tone entirely relaxed as he navigated the narrow hallway. "That is a question you should be directing toward the Headmaster or Snape, not student leaders. Trust me, I know how institutional hierarchies work way better than you do."
"But neither of them will ever tell me a single thing!" Hermione scoffed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Snape would sooner wear a tutu and do ballet in the Great Hall than explain his choices, and Dumbledore just doesn't seem up to telling any of us anything at all at the moment."
"Then I guess you're entirely out of luck," Lucifer shrugged carelessly. He fluidly picked up his pace, power-walking ahead of her with his hands tucked into his pockets.
Hermione stared intensely at the back of his neatly styled head, feeling a sudden, burning urge to drill into his thoughts. Before she could call after him, she had to step aside to let another student pass. It was Cho Chang. The Ravenclaw girl looked incredibly pale and slightly upset, her eyes cast downward as she hurried along.
"What do you think is up with her?" She asked softly, her anger briefly giving way to genuine concern.
Lucifer glanced briefly at Cho just before the girl disappeared into a compartment further down the line. "Well, think about what happened at the end of last year, Hermione."
"Oh... right..." She said, a wave of profound sadness washing over her features. Cedric Diggory. The weight of the tragedy still hung heavily over the entire student body, especially those who had been closest to him.
They walked in a heavy, thoughtful silence for the next few minutes, peering through the glass panels of each passing compartment until they finally spotted a familiar messy nest of black hair. Pushing the door open, they found Harry, Ron, and Ginny, alongside Neville Longbottom and another distinct, familiar girl.
"About time," Lucifer said stepping into the compartment with a wave. "Oh, hey, Luna."
"Hello, Lucifer. Hello, Hermione," Luna Lovegood smiled dreamily up at them. She was comfortably wedged into the corner seat, holding a fresh copy of the 'Quibbler' completely upside down. "Congratulations on becoming Prefects. The badges have a very lovely shine."
The moment Hermione sat down, Crookshanks leaped gracefully from the floor straight into her lap, purring heavily as he curled up. Just then, the familiar sliding mechanism of food trolley rattled outside their door.
Sensing the lingering tension from their earlier argument, Lucifer stepped out and bought a massive assortment of lunch items and sweet snacks for the entire group. He made sure to specifically hand a warm, fresh sleeve of Pumpkin Pasties straight to Hermione, knowing food was the absolute best way to coax her out of a bad mood.
"Thanks," she whispered, her eyes softening significantly as she accepted the sweet pastry, the rich scent of cinnamon immediately filling the air.
"So, there are exactly two Prefects from each House, just as we expected," Lucifer started, leaning back against the plush seat to brief the others on the meeting.
"Please tell me the boy Prefect for Slytherin isn't exactly who I think it is," Harry interrupted, his green eyes clouding over with immediate dread.
"It's Malfoy! And Parkinson!" Hermione spat out both names with pure, concentrated venom, her fuming temper flaring right back up. "How on earth that daddy's little bitch and that arrogant cow got to be Prefects when she is physically thicker than a concussed mountain troll is entirely beyond me!"
"Who was chosen for Hufflepuff?" Ginny asked, trying to steer the conversation away from a Slytherin rant.
"Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," Lucifer answered for her.
"And Ravenclaw is Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil," Hermione added, taking a sharp bite of her pasty as she tried to get her breathing under control, though it was proving to be a monumental task.
Luna lowered her upside-down magazine slightly, her prominent, silvery eyes fixing onto the ginger boy across from her. "You went to the Yule Ball with Padma, didn't you, Ron?"
Ron blinked, looking caught off guard as a stray piece of cauldron cake hovered near his mouth. "Yeah, I did. Why?"
"She didn't appreciate the experience very much," Luna stated with a devastatingly calm, matter-of-fact tone. "Particularly the part where you completely refused to ask her to dance the entire evening. She actually told me that the absolute best dance she had the whole night was with Lucifer."
"She said that?" Lucifer asked, thoroughly intrigued as a slow, wicked smirk spread across his handsome face.
"Oh, yes," Luna smiled serenely, completely oblivious to the sudden shift in the room's temperature. "She also mentioned that Parvati was incredibly upset about not getting a turn to dance with you either."
The sharp, dangerous look that instantly flashed across Hermione's face was completely missed by the boys, but her inner thoughts were screaming. 'Two more... I am going to have to keep a serious eye on those Patil twins.'
"What about you, Luna?" She asked quickly, her voice a bit forced as she desperately changed the topic away from Lucifer's dance card. "Did you enjoy the ball?"
"I'd already made permanent plans to go home for the holidays, so I didn't get to enjoy the Ball myself," Luna said, her smile never wavering. "But Ginny told me it was absolutely wonderful." With that, she casually raised the 'Quibbler' back up, burying her face behind the bizarre articles.
"We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often," Lucifer explained, turning back to Harry, Ron, and Neville to lay out the real world implications of their new status. "And we have full authority to hand out punishments to non-Prefects for misbehaving. You know, taking off house points or writing up detentions."
"We can also completely block a fifth-year Prefect's decision if we feel their punishment is entirely unjustified," Hermione added, a thoroughly satisfactory, smug smirk returning to her lips. The knowledge that she could legally veto Malfoy's and Parkinson's attempts to abuse their power was an incredibly comforting thought.
Ron idly peered over at the strange cover of Luna's magazine. "Is there actually anything good in there, Luna?"
"Of course n--" Hermione began, her elitism instantly kicking in to dismiss the weird tabloid.
But before the insult could leave her lips, she found her mouth completely covered by Lucifer's large hand. He had moved with an impossible, blinding speed, catching her entirely off guard. The rest of her sentence was muffled into an unintelligible, soft squeak against his palm as she stared at him with wide, stunned eyes.
"I'm entirely sure there are plenty of deeply interesting things written by your father in this issue, Luna," Lucifer said, flashing the Ravenclaw girl a charming, flawless smile. "I quite liked the previous investigative piece about Ludo Bagman being a secret Goblin agent."
Hermione's eyes widened even further at his unexpected defense of the magazine. The moment he slowly removed his hand from her mouth, she shot him a sharp, questioning glare, but before she could speak, the compartment door slid open with a loud, aggressive rattle.
To everyone's absolute annoyance, Draco Malfoy stood in the threshold, flanked closely by the hulking, silent shadows of Crabbe and Goyle.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked aggressively, slamming his hands onto his knees before the Slytherin could even open his mouth.
"Manners, Potter," Malfoy drawled, his voice dripping with an insufferable, smug arrogance as he tapped the silver badge on his chest. "Watch your tone, or I'll be forced to hand you an official detention before the train even reaches the castle."
"No, you won't," Hermione snarled, her body tensing as she glared up at him. "The exact second you try, I will legally block it for being an abuse of power and an unjust punishment. Or did your tiny pure-blood brain completely forget to pay attention during our Prefect briefing ten minutes ago?"
Malfoy completely ignored her, keeping his cold eyes fixed strictly on Harry. "Unlike you, Potter, I've actually been deemed worthy of being made a Prefect. Because the Headmaster knows I can actually be trusted—"
"Get out!" Hermione yelled, physically standing up from her seat, her fists clenching as her protective instincts flared.
Malfoy's jaw tightened, an arrogant retort rising to his lips, but the exact second his eyes drifted past Hermione and locked onto Lucifer, the words died instantly in his throat.
Lucifer hadn't moved a muscle, but his dark eyes were fixed on the blond boy with a cold, predatory intensity that made the hair on Malfoy's arms stand up. Sensing the immediate, dangerous shift in the air, he abruptly closed his mouth. Turning on his heel, he hurried away down the corridor, a sour, defensive sneer plastered across his face.
"Told you he was a pathetic little bitch," Hermione muttered, rubbing her nose with a triumphant huff as she sank back down into her seat, fully expecting that exact cowardly result.
As the conversation naturally drifted back into casual chatter about the upcoming Quidditch season, Lucifer instinctively shifted his weight. Without a second thought, his hand moved on its own accord, dropping downward to rest firmly against Hermione's clothed thigh.
It was a completely mindless, possessive gesture born of habit, his focus remaining entirely locked on the technical Quidditch breakdown Harry and Ron were debating.
The exact second the warmth of his palm made contact with her skin, Hermione's entire world ground to a sudden, violent halt.
A deep, vibrant crimson flush exploded across her cheeks, sweeping down her neck. An absolute storm of butterflies erupted violently in the pit of her stomach. Lucifer had touched her countless times before, but right now, trapped in the tight, crowded confines of the train compartment after hours of heightened tension, the casual physical contact triggered a massive, overpowering chemical reaction in her body.
The intensity only amplified tenfold as Lucifer's thumb began to mindlessly caress her skin. The pad of his thumb rubbed softly against the fabric of her skirt, sending a sharp wave of goosebumps exploding anywhere his finger skimmed.
Hermione bit her lower lip hard, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the edge of her seat, desperately trying to contain the sudden, overwhelming rush of heat pooling in her core. It was entirely useless; the fluttering, electric sensation only increased with every slow, stroke of his thumb.
Lucifer remained completely oblivious to the absolute meltdown occurring right next to him. He was thoroughly engrossed in the conversation, surprising even himself with how easily he was talking with the two Gryffindor boys.
His thumb continued its mindless, agonizingly slow caress against her thigh. Hermione took in a sharp, ragged breath, her chest heaving slightly as a dense swarm of tingles rippled through her. This exquisite torture went on for a few solid minutes until she grew completely desperate for her boyfriend's undivided attention, her mind entirely clouded over by a heavy, dark haze of pure desire.
Unable to take another second of the passive torment, she leaned her face directly into Lucifer's neck. Her lips brushed against the shell of his ear, her warm breath fanning across his skin. When she spoke, her voice came out in a breathless, needy whisper, kept low enough that the noisy boys across from them wouldn't hear. "Do you... do you want to go check out that exclusive Prefect cart right now, Daddy?"
Lucifer paused mid-sentence, turning his head at the sound of her strained voice. The easy smile on his face faltered the exact moment eyes locked onto hers. He could see the unusually dark, dilated shade of brown in her pupils, her face carrying a faint, breathless pallor as she stared at him with unblinking intensity.
"Are you alright?" he asked curiously, his voice dropping into a softer pitch.
Hermione didn't explain; she merely gave a tight, single nod, her eyes boring into his as she waited for his compliance. They locked gazes for a long, silent beat before Lucifer's sharp mind pieced together the sudden shift in her energy. A small, knowing smile tugged at his lips, and he gave a slow nod of agreement.
It made her lips instantly curved upward. Standing up quickly from the plush seat, she wrapped her fingers tightly around Lucifer's hand, anchoring herself to him.
"Where are you two going all of a sudden?" Ron asked, his mouth full of pasty as he looked up.
"To check out the technical layout of the Prefect train carts at the back," Lucifer answered, his voice completely level.
Ron's face instantly lit up with interest. Slipping out of his seat, he stood up, completely missing the dangerous, narrowing glare Hermione was currently throwing his way. "Oh, brilliant! I'll come along with you lot. I want to see what the Gryffindor one looks like."
An intense wave of pure annoyance washed over Hermione. She wanted nothing more than to be entirely alone with her boyfriend, away from the suffocating crowd. She let out a sharp, irritated huff, her eyes turning into lethal slits as Ron obliviously rolled out of the compartment, trailing right behind them like an eager puppy.
As they made their way toward the rear of the speeding train, Ron talked loudly and incessantly about the 'Holyhead Harpies'' latest Quidditch roster changes. Hermione walked in a complete, silent daze. She didn't process a single syllable of the sports gossip; her vision was entirely locked onto the smooth movement of Lucifer's lips whenever he offered a brief, polite response to keep Ron occupied.
Her entire mind was solely, fiercely focused on a single task: pressing her lips against his.
The trio finally arrived at the rear section, stopping in front of the door labeled with the first Gryffindor Prefect seal. Ron enthusiastically stepped inside to inspect the interior. Lucifer made a move to follow him, but before he could take a step, Hermione's grip tightened on his wrist like a vice.
With a sudden, forceful jerk, she dragged him backward into the corridor.
Ron's head popped out of the compartment door, his face a picture of total confusion as he looked at the two of them standing in the aisle. "Aren't you two coming in to see the layout?"
Lucifer opened his mouth to say 'yes,' but Hermione completely beat him to it. She fiercely tugged her boyfriend to the side, her body language blocking Ron's view as she pulled him further down the narrow hallway. "Sorry, Weasley. There's something infinitely more important that I need him for right now!" she called back sharply.
"Wait up, I'll just come with you then," Ron called out, making a move to step out into the corridor.
"No! You will stay right there!" She yelled back over her shoulder, her voice carrying a terrifying, strict finality that caused Ron to instantly freeze in his tracks, blinking in utter bewilderment.
Lucifer's face was stuck in an entirely perplexed, amused expression as he let himself be practically hauled down the train. "Um, Hermione—"
"Not now, Lucifer," she snapped gently, her pace quickening.
"But pet—"
"I said not right now," She cut him off completely, her fingers practically crushing his hand as she dragged him past the threshold of the next train segment.
Her eyes swept the quiet hallway until they landed on a door displaying a polished gold slab that read 'Ravenclaw Prefect.' Finding it completely empty, a bright, triumphant smile broke across her face. She violently slid the door open, dragged Lucifer into the dark, secluded compartment, and the exact second the heavy door slammed shut behind them, she threw the locking mechanism into place with a sharp, echoing 'click'
xxxxxx
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