Sunday Morning.
"Get off, I was here first!"
"So what? I'm his pet! His slave! That means I should be the one to pleasure him!"
"It does not! It just means he tells you what to do. In fact, why don't you just go make breakfast or something? Be a good little housewife, while I have some fun?"
"Oh, you bitch! I bet you don't even know how to give a good blowjob!"
"I... I do too! I just... well, can you even see it, bookworm?!"
"Oh, that's clever. Very well, show me how you deepthroat it? Go on..."
The incessant whispered discussion finally woke up Lucifer along with the strange feeling of his hardening cock being fought over and partly sucked by two different mouths.
"Ahh..." he sighed, quite confused but liking it just the same as one of the mouths seized his cock and did its best to take as much of it inside.
As he looked down he saw Hermione staring angrily at the girl who tried her best to fit all of his hard cock.
Unfortunately for Emma, but to the undisputable delight of Hermione, she failed to get much more than half inside before her gag-reflex and need for air overcame her desire to please Lucifer, and had to pull her head off the too-mighty dick and gasp for air.
Without trying to hide her condescending smirk, Hermione grabbed the hard cock, glide into her mouth and down her throat. Emma stared openly at how the girl's neck was bulging and could be seen moving inside. She swallowed the entire rod and triumphantly rubbed her nose against Lucifer's pubic-bone before she slowly and controlled let it slide out again.
Not all the way out, of course, she couldn't risk Emma getting hold of this perfect pleasure-tool, 'oh no.'
That amateur could watch and learn while she pleasured her master and love with her mouth.
"Oh yeah," Lucifer moaned above her as she once again took all of the fat cock inside, milking it with her throat.
She smiled wickedly at Emma before she pulled out again, this time just keeping the tip in her mouth. Her tongue went busy, teasing and rubbing the soft spots, just below the head, she knew how sensitive he was there.
"My turn!"
The enraged twin suddenly shouted at her and pushed her bushy head off the cock, freeing it for herself. She quickly grabbed it and had her mouth halfway to the spit-glistening cockhead before Lucifer gave a yelp of pain.
"Not so hard, damnit," he frowned, annoyed at the girl whose expression went from superior to sheepish in half a second.
"Sorry," She muttered and cast an evil look at Hermione, whom she naturally blamed for her embarrassment. The brunette witch just gave her an arrogant smile, knowing she'd won "this round."
Lucifer couldn't possibly want to be satisfied by a bitch who tried to break off his cock could he?
"I told you, you couldn't do it properly," she smirked.
But pride goeth before a very steep fall indeed.
"Hermione," Lucifer sighed, "Go prepare breakfast; you know what I like. And you," he leaned back against his pillow with a self-satisfied smile, "Continue, we'll come outside when we're done..."
"But sir... I... she..." Hermione began but was cut off by a single, irritated look from Lucifer. Dutifully, she bowed her head, knowing it wasn't her place to discuss with Master once he'd made up his mind, and with a last, hurt look at him, she left the room, pointedly ignoring Emma's superior grin and the glee with which her hand began stroking Master's cock, up and down.
"Hehe, did you see her face?" She grinned at Lucifer while still stroking his dick with her soft hand, "That cow got what she deserved."
Emma had felt humiliated by her clumsiness and the fact that Hermione dared point out her lack of experience but she 'felt' elevated again, now that he had taken her side.
Her plan to steal him away from the harlot was going very well, she thought, until. Lucifer sat up in bed, quick as a flash, and grabbed a painful hold of Emma's curvy hair and twisted her head so she looked him in the eyes.
"Her name is Hermione. Use it," he demanded in a cold, angry voice.
A voice that held no doubt about how displeased he was at her lack of respect. Emma's grin faded in a second to be replaced by a look of fear, "Yes, yes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I was just..." She babbled and nodded her head eagerly and submissively.
"Good," Lucifer said and released her again, "Show her a little respect, will you?" When she kept staring at him he gestured at his still erect dick.
She got the message, and a few seconds later her warm mouth engulfed as much as it as she could reach. But Emma'd certainly learnt something this morning... After everything done, she had been sure Hermione was just a 'plaything' for him, and she was the one he wanted.
xxxxxx
The morning sun had barely managed to clear the high, jagged stone walls of the castle when heavy oak doors of the Great Hall groaned open.
Inside their warded, private quarters, Hermione looked down at herself, a hot wave of flushing pink washing over her skin. This was the proof of her total obedience and submissiveness to him. Preparing a fresh plate of food for him completely naked, wearing nothing but the heavy, velvet collar he had fastened around her neck.
The humiliation and the thrill of it curled tightly in her stomach. After the preparations were 'finally' done, she walked over to his side, dropping gracefully to her knees on the cold rug right next to his chair.
"My place is at Master's feet, eating scraps from his plate," She whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she kept her gaze cast firmly downward.
Her knuckles whitened against the floorboards as a darker, completely unbidden thought flashed through her mind: 'Sucking his cock right now would be nice too... anything to make him look at me again...'
But Lucifer remained entirely detached. After he finished eating, he stood up and left without a single word of validation. Hermione was left behind in the quiet room to wash the heavy dishes entirely by herself, her heart aching with a deep, hollow emptiness.
A short while later, Lucifer marched down into the Great Hall, instantly feeling the heavy, curious stares of several Hufflepuff girls burning into his profile from across the aisle.
He ignored the whispers and slid onto the empty wooden bench just as the loud, frantic rustling of the morning Owl Post echoed from the high rafters. Hundreds of birds streaked into the hall. A fresh copy of 'The Quibbler' and 'The Daily Prophet' landed flat on the table directly in front of him. Because Hermione wasn't there to manage the papers, they sat by his plate, since he took full care of all her personal expenses.
"Anything interesting in there today?" Harry asked, leaning across the table as he sped through the bizarre front page of Luna's magazine first.
The main headline occupied an entire, bold page inside the paper:
"Is Dumbledore's Intention to Run for Minister of Magic Long-Planned or a Spur-of-the-Moment Decision?"
The 'Quibbler's' eccentric owner, Xenophilius Lovegood, had penned a massive, highly detailed article filled with ridiculous revelations supposedly sourced from well-placed anonymous informants. It chronicled Dumbledore's alleged frequent contact with senior Ministry officials and heavily speculated that he intended to challenge Cornelius Fudge for the position of 'Minister of Magic' in the upcoming election.
According to the text, Dumbledore was supposedly outraged by the constant slander directed at him by the government and sought to restore his tarnished reputation through a coup. In the dead center of the page, a large, moving photograph accompanied the piece. The magical image depicted 'Albus Dumbledore' warmly shaking hands and sharing a wide grin with none other than 'Dolores Umbridge.'
The caption beneath the photograph read:
"Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, Dolores Umbridge, recently took over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. While some have speculated that her high-profile appointment was a move to spy on Dumbledore for Fudge, this may not be the case at all. An informed source suggests that the two are often seen laughing and chatting conspiratorially in Hogwarts' long corridors, indicating an incredibly close, secret relationship.
We have firm reason to believe that Dolores Umbridge may, in fact, be a double agent—appearing fiercely loyal to Fudge while secretly aligning herself with Dumbledore's faction..."
Lucifer couldn't help but let out a rich, booming laugh as his eyes scanned the printed ink. "This is absolute gold. I bet Umbridge will be completely livid the exact second she sees this layout... Alas, it's a massive shame not many people actually subscribe to 'The Quibbler' to see her humiliated..."
"I have absolutely no doubt she'll blow a fuse," Harry replied, though he let out a heavy, anxious sigh as he glanced back down at the moving photograph. "By the way, Lucifer... since when did Umbridge become one of us? Did you manually orchestrate this rumor through your connections?" he asked, his piercing green eyes fixing onto his friend with deep suspicion.
"Of course not," Lucifer said matter-of-factly, casually taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. "If I possessed that specific kind of manipulative power over the media, Dumbledore would have already brought Umbridge directly into the Order of the Phoenix to scrub her clean." Then his tone turned serious, his dark eyes leveling. "But the truth is, she has always been a fanatically loyal follower of Cornelius Fudge. I've never doubted... that for a single moment since she offered to publicly claim dragon dung was imported Bourbon chocolate at the Quidditch World Cup last year, simply because Fudge guessed the wrong treat...."
Ron instantly choked violently on his toast, spilling a mouthful of pumpkin juice across the table. Harry was caught in a sudden sense of urgency, leaning over to frantically pat his best friend's back to stop the coughing fit, while Lucifer casually cleared the liquid from the wood with a lazy wave of his palm.
Then picked up 'The Daily Prophet' next, flipping through the pages. "There's some standard guff in here about the bass player for the Weird Sisters getting married over the weekend..."
"...Well, congratulations to him. Maybe I'll actually find a man who finds me worthy of his precious time one day," Hermione said, her voice dropping into a bitter, biting murmur as she stepped up from behind them. She sat down aggressively beside Lucifer, making the cynical comment completely off-hand.
Lucifer felt his face burn lightly at the sharp sting of her jealousy, his jaw tightening as he pointedly handed the newspaper back over to its owner. It was a few heavy seconds of tense silence before Hermione let out another sharp, horrified sound. "Oh no... Sirius!"
"What's happened?" Harry asked urgently, his face turning pale as he reached across the table for the paper, but it remained completely out of his physical reach.
"The Ministry of Magic has officially received a tip-off from a highly reliable source that Sirius Black, the notorious convicted murderer... blah blah blah... is currently residing somewhere in London!" Hermione read aloud, her voice tight with genuine anguish.
"But who on earth could have—" Harry started to ask, his fingers clenching into fists.
"It was far too dangerous for him to leave the house," She whispered, her eyes casting down. "He went to the platform as Snuffles..."
"It's my fault," Harry said somberly, staring blankly at the table. "I let him come."
"No, it's not just your fault, Harry," Lucifer said quietly, a trace of remorse touching his own voice. "I encouraged him to get out of that damp house too. We all did."
"Hey, listen to this part," Hermione said, her finger tracing a smaller, obscure column further down the sheet. "It's something barely touched upon by the main writer... a report about a trespassing incident inside the Ministry. Sturgis Podmore, thirty-eight, of Number Two, 'Laburnum Gardens, Clapham,' has officially appeared in front of the Wizengamot... He has been charged with high trespassing and attempted robbery within the 'Department of Mysteries.' And he's currently spending six months in Azkaban after completely refusing to speak a single word in his own defense, resulting in a swift conviction on both accounts."
"Sturgis was the exact Order guard I filled in for to secure your trip to King's Cross, Harry," Lucifer said in a quiet, analytical voice. "And I remember Alastor Moody was absolutely not happy with Podmore's absence. The timeline matches perfectly."
"What if, no, hear me out for a second," Ron started, leaning forward to get their full attention. "What if the Ministry knows he's one of Dumbledore's lot, and they completely faked the whole break-in? What if he wasn't actually trying to get into any secret room at the Ministry at all?"
"As far-fetched as that sounds, Ron... I'm honestly not sure I would put anything past our Ministry anymore," Hermione said, her shoulders slumping as she felt a little downtrodden by the escalating conflict.
"Right, well," Lucifer said, pushing his empty plate away as he finished his mild breakfast. "After the disaster these days, I've had another essay tacked onto the currently expanding pile of assignments. It's just the Herbology essay on 'Self-Fertilizing Shrubs.' So I'm going to get out of you three's way and head up to work on that. Excuse me."
He stood up fluidly and walked out of the Great Hall without a backward glance. Hermione watched his tall form retreat with an intensely worried, desperate expression. "Why is he doing this to me?" she whispered, her voice cracking as she looked at the boys. "I just came down here to sit with him..."
"Dunno," Ron said, reaching for another sausage. "But he has been acting completely unlike himself lately... you don't think he's secretly possessed by You-Know-Who, do you?"
"No, don't be ridiculous, Ron," Hermione sighed, rubbing her templates. "His natural 'Occlumency' is far too ironclad; it prevents anyone from ever controlling his mind. But he is right about the workload. We have that Herbology essay, plus there is McGonagall's Inanimatus Conjurus assignment due, which it already sounds like he's completed ahead of schedule..."
An intense wave of academic jealousy washed through her, her fingers gripping her bag. 'Where on earth has he gotten all this extra time to get his assignments done faster than me? I know he's brilliant in every single way, but it's almost inhuman how fast his mind works...'
"Do you think he's secretly using a Ministry Time-Turner again, like you both did during our third year?" Harry asked quietly, looking around to make sure no one was listening.
"No, no, that's not it at all..." Hermione muttered, her voice tight as she tried fiercely to prevent her burning anger from showing on her face.
Harry and Ron decided to drop the subject, instead gathering their brooms to head out to the Quidditch pitch to squeeze in a quick practice session before Angelina Johnson's scheduled team training later that afternoon.
Hermione sternly warned them over her shoulder that if they continued to put off their homework so recklessly, they would undoubtedly fail their O.W.L.s.
Left alone, she decided to just march straight back to the Gryffindor Tower to see if that was where Lucifer had gone to hide. When she climbed through the portrait hole, she found him instantly. He had planted himself right in a large armchair in the absolute corner of the Common Room or at least as close to a corner as a wizard could physically get in a perfectly circular stone room.
She walked straight up to his chair. Lucifer caught the movement out of the corner of his eye but didn't look up from his parchment. "What do you want, Hermione?"
"Look... I am sorry, okay? Can we please just go back to normal?" she pleaded, her voice dropping into a desperate, breaking whisper as she stood over him. "Ever since I said those horrible things about Luna... you've been completely cold to me."
He ignored her entirely, his quill scratching against the page.
Hermione's heart broke slightly at the absolute silence, a cold wave of feeling utterly unloved crashing over her. "Can I... can I at least sit here with you?"
There was absolutely no response.
"Lucifer, I know you are furious with me...." She looked sideways, her eyes tracking his face until she saw his dark brows twitch just a tiny fraction. She leaned in closer, her voice dropping into a fragile, trembling whisper. "I can't always go on like this. I really feel like dying inside, I promise you. I... I will go and apologize to L-Luna..."
She couldn't stop the heavy, hot tears as they finally escaped her eyelashes, tracking down her cheeks. Hermione sank onto the wooden chair directly across from him, her shoulders trembling. "Lucifer, please... you're the only guy for me. You know that."
"You are here to ask me something specific, aren't you?" Lucifer said, finally stopping his quill. He turned his handsome face to look directly at her tear-stained expression.
Hermione quickly wiped her face with the sleeve of her robes, trying desperately to remove the traces of her breakdown. "I, I... I just heard a specific rumor in the corridors before breakfast. Can I ask you about it?"
"What is it?"
"....Did... did Hannah Abbott actually kiss you after the class ended that day?" She asked quietly, her eyes burning with a desperate, hidden terror of the answer.
Lucifer stared at her for a long, unreadable beat. Instead of answering the question, he pulled a fresh sheet of parchment from his pouch. "We should get this Herbology essay done. How much of research have you actually completed for it?"
"???"
Hermione stared at him in utter, stunned silence, her jaw tightening, when he changed the topic, "I... I only just started the introductory paragraphs..." She said sheepishly, her pride stinging.
"Which means, knowing you, you're already on your second page at least, right?" Lucifer murmured, a tiny, teasing smirk finally breaking through his icy facade.
"Halfway down it..." She admitted softly, reaching into her bag to remove the crumpled roll of parchment.
Lucifer smiled gently. He reached across the small table, taking the scroll from her fingers and smoothing it out flat against the wood. He dipped his quill into the inkwell and fluidly began writing out the remainder of his own essay right beside hers, allowing her to share his space.
Hermione watched the smooth movement of his hand, her inner thoughts spiraling into a dark, protective fury. 'I swear to God, if that Hufflepuff girl actually dared to touch him... I will personally tear her apart limb from limb!'
xxxxx
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