"Wait," A Beauxbatons student suddenly said. "What did Madame Maxime just say? Riddle is on the school's Board of Governors?"
"Yeah! How is he a governor? He's a Hogwarts student!"
The murmurs grew louder, rippling from the first floor to second, then all the way up to the top where Maxime stood.
"'Silence!"
Her voice cut through the noise, instantly suppressing chatter.
"Mr. Morningstar is the last disciple of Mr. Nicolas Flamel. Before his passing, Mr. Flamel bequeathed the majority of his estate to Mr. Morningstar, which naturally includes his shares in Beauxbatons."
The hall exploded.
Nicolas Flamel was practically a 'founding' titan at Beauxbatons. His influence was unquestionable, neither the students nor most of the faculty had known that Lucifer had such a deep connection to the school.
The way they looked at him changed immediately. There was warmth in their gazes now, a sense of closeness.
Lucifer, however, merely curled his lip slightly. The majority of his estate? Please. Nicolas had only handed over the assets that were visible on the surface. This old fox had plenty of gold stashed away, but it would all come to him eventually.
Still, it was amusing when he thought about it... He was a governor at Hogwarts.
A governor at Beauxbatons. And he had significant influence at Durmstrang as well, the three great magical schools of Europe were practically his territory.
Once the Welcoming ceremony concluded, everyone took their seats. In front of each of them, pristine white porcelain plates filled instantly with beautifully prepared dishes.
Beauxbatons followed a plated dining system, adhering strictly to the order of French cuisine: appetizer, main course, cheese, dessert, and after-dinner drinks.
After finishing a dish, you simply tapped lightly on the table to summon the next course. Tap twice, and the same dish would be served again.
Both presentation and flavor far surpassed what Hogwarts offered. It made Lucifer seriously wonder if Dumbledore had been skimming a little off the board donations or Ministry funding. 'Beauxbatons had more students than Hogwarts, and they ate better too. How was that remotely fair?'
"Madame Maxime."
"Hm?" Olympe Maxime looked up from delicately slicing her lamb chop.
Lucifer spoke with complete seriousness, that made people think school was under danger,"I believe exchanges shouldn't be limited to students and professors. House-elves should communicate as well. Food is the 'foundation' of a people's strength."
Several professors couldn't help laughing. The slight stiffness from earlier vanished, and the atmosphere warmed immediately.
Maxime smiled and agreed on the spot. Not only would she bring Beauxbatons' house-elves to Hogwarts for an exchange, she would also leave one behind as Lucifer's personal chef. A perfectly reasonable privilege for a member of the "Board of Governors."
Naturally, the conversation shifted to the upcoming Inter-School Tournament. Maxime tried to steer things around, hoping to pry some inside information out of Lucifer.
Even she didn't know the exact events yet. Hogwarts was handling the preparations. But the problem was, he didn't know either. He was the ultimate 'hands-off' boss, hadn't bothered with the details at all.
"Umm... Madame Maxime, have you given any thought to the Wizarding Rank Assessment?" Lucifer smoothly changed the subject. At the last meeting, she hadn't given a firm answer, only said she would consider it.
"This..." The half-giant witch looked conflicted. Honestly, she didn't want to agree, it was a thankless job. If students performed well, the credit might go elsewhere. If they performed poorly, criticism would land squarely on her.
Just as she was wondering how to decline without offending him, he casually added, "If you agree, I can donate part of Nicolas's private collection on his behalf. All rare alchemy texts...."
"Mr. Morningstar, Beauxbatons fully supports your proposal." Maxime's expression turned solemn and decisive, "Professor Ferreira and Professor Moebius were telling me just today that they intend to register as well."
The two 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' professors who had just been named looked utterly stupified. Register? Since when?! But under Maxime's sharp glare, they could only nod, swallowing their tears along with the blame.
"Yes, Mr. Morningstar. We'll be registering." They understood perfectly why her attitude had flipped so quickly. Alchemy had always been Beauxbatons' strong suit.
Other schools only offered it as an elective in sixth or seventh year. At Beauxbatons, students could start as early as third year. With 'Nicolas Flamel's' private collection, the school's reputation in alchemy would rise even higher.
If the two of them had to lose a little face for that, so be it. For the school, it was worth it.
After dinner, Lucifer was making his way down to the first floor, intending to visit Annabelle. With Hogwarts calling him tomorrow, he figured he might as well spend a bit more time with the little girl before leaving.
Suddenly, he stopped.
A tiny figure had blocked his path. The little radish-head wrapped both arms around his leg, she was the girl who hung out with Annabelle, her name was... 'Gabrielle Delacour?
"Do you need something?" Lucifer disliked brats, but he still had a shred of patience for cute girls, who were naturally adorable. The child looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Big brother, can you let Dad out?"
One of the accompanying professors' faces changed instantly. He moved to pull the child away, but Lucifer raised a hand to stop him. He looked down at the girl.
"Did your father go to watch the World Cup?"
The child, Gabrielle nodded her face brightly, she had seen this boy at the World Cup, Annabelle kept talking about him, "Mm. Mommy said you locked Dad up. He won't be released for three months."
"Then, just wait three months," Lucifer replied indifferently to teach her few lessons, in her growing up, "If you make a mistake, you accept the punishment. Your teachers have told you that, haven't they?"
The child's lips trembled, "But... but I miss Dad."
He didn't budge, otherwise countless spectacles like this would open up, making his resolve waver, "It's fine. He'll be out by Christmas, your mother misses him too, and she didn't come asking me to release him, did she?"
The little one shook her head earnestly, baby fat on cheeks were just begging to be pinched, "Mommy has an uncle to comfort her. She doesn't miss Dad. But my older sister and I do."
...What? Her uncle's name wasn't Rouse, right? Right? Lucifer's expression changed to awkward, he crouched down, suddenly very serious, "Come on. Tell me everything about your mom and this 'uncle."
Good news, it wasn't Rouse, he had no idea why his mind had leapt to that guy first; there was no way he would come to France without telling him.
If Wilkinson knew he'd been suspected like this, he'd probably look genuinely hurt. He wasn't that kind of person; would never do something like this... Unless, of course, the 'family' name happened to be Graves.
After understanding the full story and for the sake of child's family harmony, Lucifer bent his own rules and agreed to release the father, 'Monsieur Delacour' ahead of schedule.
But he had one condition. After being released, the man wasn't allowed to contact his 'family.' He had to sneak home quietly and surprise his wife. Surely a romantic Frenchman wouldn't refuse something like that.
The professor nearby wore a strange expression, "Delacour, your parents will both be grateful to you."
The radish-head girl, Gabrielle, blinked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, "Why?"
"Because you're a good and thoughtful child. All right now, back to the group. Get some sleep."
She was patted on her head.
xxxxxx
The next morning, after finishing breakfast, Lucifer dove straight into the library.
During the previous Dueling Tournament, in exchange for excluding him from the competition, several magical academies had agreed to his demands and sent over batches of distinctive books from their collections. But compared to centuries of history behind those institutions, what they'd handed over was barely a drop in the ocean.
He intended to make full use of this time to scan and copy as much as possible, filling up his library at Lux.
Even a quick skim through the volumes was enough to reveal stark difference in educational philosophy between the schools.
Hogwarts emphasized practicality. Every spell was designed to achieve the most direct result in the simplest way possible.
Beauxbatons, on the other hand, seemed obsessed with elegance. Their predecessors had poured their energy into making magic 'more beautiful, more dazzling, more elegant.'
Lucifer collected those spells as well. The wizarding world wasn't only about combat. Fighting was just one part of life. In his opinion, the current educational system had serious flaws. Nearly every school tried to mold students into "all-rounders."
It wasted enormous resources and stifled potential. Take Neville, for example. 'Potions' and 'Transfiguration' were pure torture for both him and his professors. If he had spent that time focusing solely on Herbology, he could achieve remarkable things in the future.
And once students graduated, improving in a specific field became difficult. There were no dedicated training institutions, no specialized instructors. If the Magical world was to truly prosper and undergo real reform, this had to change.
xxxxxx
England, London
The gray sky drizzled fine rain over the city. Thick fog blanketed everything, pressing down like a weight on the chest. King's Cross Station was as busy as ever.
Hogwarts was starting a new term, and parents from all over the country were sending their children to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
Many people noticed the unusual number of men in black suits and bowler hats. They moved through the station as if simply passing by, yet never strayed beyond a certain area.
"I know him. That's Claire. He's an Auror. I've seen Dad talking to him," Ron muttered to Harry as he pushed his trunk. "Feels like the Ministry's sent every Auror they've got."
"And the Arkham Asylum Guild too." Ginny glanced toward two women chatting in the distance, though their eyes kept sweeping the crowd. "Things aren't exactly peaceful right now."
"Yeah..." Harry sighed. "Too many people died..."
After all the Quidditch World Cup visitors left Britain, Fudge immediately sealed the borders. For the time being, foreign wizards were strictly 'forbidden' from entering.
Over a thousand wizards had died on British soil. That meant the Ministry or rather, Lucifer had just inherited roughly a thousand enemies from their families.
Even if only a tenth sought revenge, that still meant over a hundred wizards were out for blood. More than enough to put the Ministry on high alert. The simplest solution was to keep trouble out entirely. No entry, no problems.
But wizards had countless ways to sneak across borders. It was impossible to seal every crack. In recent days, Aurors and Guild enforcers had already caught quite a few intruders. All of them were shipped off to help build the new prison in Dorset.
Beyond the barrier to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, another team of Aurors and several Hit Wizards stood guard. Everyone was stopped and scanned with detection devices before being allowed onto the train.
For the first time in a century, the Hogwarts Express departure time had been pushed from eleven to noon.
"Since when has the security been this good?" Tracey, Daphne, Astoria, and Hermione each carried a small case. They were visibly startled by the heavy security. Still, they obediently joined the queue.
"Thanks for escorting us, Shikimori," Hermione said to the pink-haired girl walking beside them, "You can go back to your duties now."
The girl shook her head, the eye-roll she adopted could almost give the bushy haired girl an existential crisis, and run 'for' to get new identity tricks, "My master's order is to ensure your safe arrival on the train."
"But we're already inside the station."
"You are not yet on the train."
"We'll be on it in a minute."
"You are not 'yet' on the train, Miss Granger."
Hermione stared at her, momentarily speechless. Daphne and Astoria were trying very hard not to laugh. Shikimori had stayed at the Greengrass estate for a while, so they knew her personality well.
Normally, without Lucifer's orders, she was just a quiet, blank 'faced' default mode girl, a little clueless and easy enough to get along with. But the moment he gave a command, she turned into the strictest mission machine imaginable. If the task wasn't completed exactly as instructed, she would not budge.
Hermione could be 'stubborn' too. Compared to Shikimori, though, she was completely outmatched.
The two sisters watched with poorly concealed amusement as Hermione tried to reason with her again. Tracey was smiling as well, until she suddenly felt two distinctly unpleasant gazes fixed on them.
She scanned the platform and quickly
found the source. A third-year boy and a fifth-year girl, both from Slytherin.
"What's wrong?" Astoria noticed her expression change.
Tracey quietly shared what she'd spotted and reminded them not to turn their heads too obviously.
Hermione and the others stole glances from corners of their eyes. Just as Davis said, the pair were staring at them with undisguised hostility. Astoria meanwhile frowned in their group, she knew them,"Travers and Hector... I don't remember us having any conflict with them."
Daphne looked equally puzzled, her big eyes blank. Of course, her confusion was on a completely different wavelength. There were still Slytherins who dared look at her with hostility?
Just then, Draco Malfoy stepped onto the platform and immediately made his way over, a flattering smile plastered on his face.
"Hello, everyone. Where's Lucifer? Father prepared a gift and asked me to deliver it to him."
Hermione shot him a sideways glance, this boy was really changed from when she first encountered him three years ago, "Lucifer's busy. He'll go straight to Hogwarts tonight."
Daphne's eyes lit up. Lowering her voice, she asked, "Malfoy, are you 'familiar' with Travers and Hector?"
"I was just about to warn you. So you noticed too." Draco perked up at once, dropping his voice conspiratorially. "Both their fathers died at the Quidditch World Cup. You'd better be careful. And when Lucifer gets back, make sure to remind him."
He knew all too well what his father had been up to that night. Lucius had returned home unscathed solely because of Lucifer's mercy, and he hadn't killed, or even attempted to kill anyone.
Those who had fallen before Lucifer's hand had let their anger and hatred dictate their actions. Even most of those under the 'Imperius Curse' had survived, a testament to his controlled precision rather than wanton cruelty.
Otherwise, the best case scenario, building a prison in Dorset and feeding Dementors on misery, would never have materialized. Of course, there was another best-case scenario: returning home unscathed like
Lucius Malfoy.
But that was only because the Malfoys were the purest example of political survivors. Cowardly when they needed to be, bold when it came to betraying others. When it was time to kneel, they knelt 'faster' than anyone. When it was time to sell someone out, they were equally decisive.
Back in the day, Lucius had identified plenty of Death Eaters and sent them straight to Azkaban. Now Draco was doing the same without hesitation.
"..."
Understanding dawned on the girls' faces. Daphne turned openly to look at them, cold light flashing in her eyes. Her wand slipped into her hand.
Astoria hurriedly grabbed her arm. "Sis, what are you doing?"
"Lucifer trained me for this," Daphne said, her voice sharp as a blade, "If they're going to be a threat, we might as well take care of them now. End it clean."
At her words, Shikimori silently raised her arm as well. Astoria yelped and used her other hand to grab the older girl too, stopping her before she could do anything drastic.
"Even if you're going to act, this is not the place. Get on the train first, when Lucifer comes back, let him decide. Don't make things worse!"
Summoning a strength she didn't know she had, Astoria dragged both of them toward the security checkpoint. Thankfully, Hermione and Tracey jumped in to help.
Otherwise, there would have been no stopping Shikimori. They 'finally' boarded the train and found a compartment, only then did the three of them let out a long breath. Susan and Hannah hadn't come due to health reasons, and would be delayed, it was widely accepted by clueless witches in the Harem.
Hermione and Astoria exchanged a glance, both seeing the same shock mirrored in the other's eyes. 'What kind of hellish training had Lucifer put cheerful Daphne through to make her like this?'
xxxxx
~Flashback~
The "Tear of Isis" turned out to be an extraordinary treasure, capable of growing the "Mythical Golden Apple" tree which could give back youth.
So if going by Luna's words, this meant that bottle from 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune' in Voldemort's possession was probably the real thing as well. If that was true, how many other items from 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard' and various myths were genuine artifacts still hidden somewhere in the world?
They spent the entire lunch break speculating about legendary relics. Only, Luna after giving her Day's insight, kept veering the topic toward creatures mentioned in 'The Quibbler.'
Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Blibbering Humdinger. Wrackspurts.
Hermione looked utterly baffled, but considering they were already discussing mythical objects, she couldn't exactly argue about plausibility. 'And honestly, Luna might not be wrong.'
That girl wanted to travel the world after graduating, and discover numerous new magical species not recorded in 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them', eventually becoming a respected magizoologist.
xxxxxx
~Flashback~
"Ugh... I'm so full."
Inside the 'Forbidden Forest', Daphne lay sprawled across the grass, happily rubbing her slightly swollen stomach, "Granger, I ate so much beef today. How about ribs next time?"
"Ribs?" Hermione wasn't in much better shape herself. She was curled up lazily in a lounge chair, too full to move, "You'll have to wait patiently for that. I haven't figured out how to grill ribs yet..."
Miss Know-It-All approached cooking the same way she did exams, every single step needed detailed precision. Earlier, while grilling meat, she had been holding a thermometer in one hand and a stopwatch in other, bustling around nonstop.
"If only Mom cooked as seriously as you do, Hermione," Ginny sighed while leaning against Luna. There were quite a 'few' magical cooking spells in the Wizarding world, but food made that way always lacked soul. The taste was decent enough, but blandly uniform. After eating it too often, people gradually started rejecting it.
It felt like eating mass-produced factory meals. The more you ate, the more nauseating it became. Almost no wizard actually liked magically prepared food.
The problem was that most of them had absolutely zero cooking talent, so they could only grit their teeth and force themselves to eat it anyway.
Molly Weasley was a classic example.
Lucifer had heard Ginny complain countless times about it. Mrs. Weasley owned piles of magical cookbooks and had learned all kinds of cooking spells, but everything she made tasted exactly the same.
The 'first' meal was fine. The second was tolerable. By the third or fourth, you were enduring it. After that, just looking at the food made you want to throw up. It was only then that he finally understood why Ron acted like he'd never eaten before every time he got to Hogwarts.
The problem started at home.
Unlike him, the moment he entered school, he'd already been picked up by a little rich girl who had house-elves from prestigious 'families' serving him around the clock.
Thinking back to those early school days, Lucifer couldn't help but smile. He reached out and rubbed Daphne's head again, who was still groaning while trying to digest her food, had no idea what he was so happy about, but she instinctively felt it had to be something good. So, she immediately brightened up and happily smiled along with him anyway.
The bizarre scene left everyone speechless. But maybe this was exactly why only Daphne could use 'Patronus.' that was shaped exactly as Lucifer's body. She was carefree to the point of being almost silly, her whole heart centered completely around him, and somehow she always managed to sync perfectly with his mood and thoughts.
The tacit understanding between the two of them, along with that effortless ease they shared, was something the others simply couldn't replicate.
Everyone suddenly gained a deeper understanding of the phrase fools are blessed. After laughing for a while, Daphne and the others gradually started 'feeling' sleepy as well. The sky was slowly darkening, so the group left the Forbidden Forest together and prepared to head back to the castle for the night.
"Oh, right."
Astoria suddenly remembered something and tugged at Daphne, who was still discussing banquet menus with Lucifer, "Sister, have you figured out anything about the next round of Monopoly yet? You lost miserably last time...."
The moment the question fell, the atmosphere around abruptly quieted.
The girls all turned to look at Daphne and Hannah Abbott.
"Don't look at me." The Huffle-puff waved her hands repeatedly, "I've already given up trying to fool Granger. None of her Muggle challenges are ever easy anyway. Whatever happens, happens."
She had fully embraced the just wing it mindset, everyone was clueless anyway besides Lucifer and Heroine. When the girl's night came, they'd just rely on strength and luck.
Daphne wasn't much different.
For the past few days, that brutal loss had occupied her mind completely. She hadn't spared a second to think about how to get back at Granger. In front of her little sister, she didn't want to lose dignity as the older sibling. Even if she never really had any to begin with.
Her eyes darted around before she forcibly came up with an idea. Puffing out her chest proudly, Daphne declared, "Of course I have. Easy."
"Oh?" Astoria instantly became interested, "Then what's your plan for the next game will be?"
"That part's not important!" Daphne waved her hand grandly, looking incredibly smug, "Didn't Lucifer say those tiny colorful houses would be useful in next round? Inside there are muggle notes, right? Lucifer gave me tons of those before and I never even used them... When the time comes, I'll just throw them all out. I can bury every opponent under sheer quantity of my 'wealth' alone."
After saying that, she even raised an eyebrow at Hannah provocatively, who looked utterly speechless. "Greengrass, if he gave them to you, why would you think.. he didn't give me any too? I was the second last."
Confusion immediately appeared in Daphne's eyes....Right. Good point.
At that moment, Lucifer waved a hand in front of her face to regain her attention before sighing helplessly. "What exactly are you thinking about? If outside cash were allowed, wouldn't that just be cheating? So in the next round, you'll only be allowed to use the money collected in the previous game. Don't even think about sneaking other ones in. I already marked them all."
"Hah?!" Seeing Daphne's stunned, disbelieving expression, the others finally lost it. The moment her earth-shattering master plan was effortlessly dismantled by Lucifer, she immediately wilted. Looking completely drained, shoulders slumped, even the little ahoge on top of her head drooping sadly.
Seeing that... Hermione was the first to burst out laughing, and soon a chain of bright, cheerful laughter echoed through evening air, drifting far into distance on the night wind.
xxxxxxx
Hogsmeade had changed beyond recognition in less than a year.
The Hog's Head had practically been torn down and rebuilt from scratch as a new Arkham Asylum guild branch, expanded into a sprawling courtyard that even swallowed the old Owl Post Office next door, which Lucifer had used for a Dating spot.
Owls had fallen sharply out of favor. Unless it was a parcel or an especially important letter, everyone now used the WhatsApp to stay in touch.
The post office couldn't keep up with the rent and had relocated to the edge of the village, closer to the train station. Aberforth, however, hadn't moved.
The 'first' floor was now used as office space. The second floor remained his private quarters, strictly off-limits to anyone else. Except today.
After returning from Beauxbatons, Lucifer came straight to see him.
The two of them were upstairs now, digging into braised pork knuckles and Munich sausages, washing it all down with dark rye beer.
Aberforth grumbled nonstop. "Lucifer, why are you getting more and more entangled with Grindelwald? His people come here every day to take on jobs. And you even helped him take Spain. Don't dodge the question. What kind of deal did you two make?"
Lucifer ignored the old man's irritation, continuing to eat heartily and sip his beer with exaggerated calm. He even found time to comment, "This sausage is too lean.
Where'd you buy it? Try another place next time."
"If you don't like it, bring your own next time," Aberforth snapped chewing loudly, his beard catching a few crisps, "Stop changing the subject. I want an answer."
"An answer?" he smiled faintly, "Aberforth, I don't need your permission to conduct my affairs. Yes, I cooperate with Grindelwald. Quite a bit, actually. But if we're talking about closeness, the Dumbledores were a lot closer to him than I ever was. You almost became... 'family."
The words made Aberforth's face flush red with embarrassment and anger. For a split second, he wanted to storm into Hogwarts and purge the family shame himself. With an older brother like that, he couldn't even scold a kid without being shut down.
"Wait... you even know about that?"
Aberforth stared at him in disbelief.
He had told Lucifer some of the history between Albus and Grindelwald before, but he had deliberately left out certain humiliating details. He'd only said their relationship was complicated and fraught with conflict.
The boy didn't answer directly, he simply said, "Newt is practically my family. Nicolas is my teacher, I figured out eventually."
As elders, taking a little blame for the younger generation was perfectly reasonable, wasn't it? Aberforth followed that line of thinking without hesitation. After silently cursing his brother, he mentally added Nicolas and Newt to the list as well.
"Lucifer, you don't need me to tell you what kind of man Grindelwald is. Look at what he's done. Cooperating with him is a terrible choice. For all you know, he's plotting how to swallow your Guild whole."
He nodded halfheartedly. "That's why I asked you to keep an eye on things. You understand 'him' better than most. If he makes a move, you'll notice. For now, we're getting along just fine. As for the future, who can say? Maybe one day you'll end up working for Grindelwald. Don't speak in absolutes."
"Me? Work for that lunatic?" Aberforth let out a cold laugh. "Kid, listen carefully. I, Aberforth Dumbledore, would rather starve to death, would rather be killed by Voldemort, than ever work for Grindelwald."
"Good," Lucifer said, nodding.
That made Aberforth to squint at him. "Why are you taking out that Lumine-Lens?"
"Nothing. Just recording your oath for
posterity." He polished off the last bit of sausage, drained his beer in one go, and walked over to the velvet-draped portrait. With a swift motion, Lucifer pulled the cloth aside and began chatting with Ariana in the painting.
Aberforth paid him no mind and continued eating and drinking.
He often spoke with Ariana when he visited. The two of them got along unexpectedly well. It was one of the main reasons Aberforth had gradually warmed to him. If his sister liked someone, how could that person be bad?
Lucifer, meanwhile, was reflecting on the nature of Wizarding portraits. They were extraordinary things. Close relatives, or sometimes the subjects themselves, would infuse paint with magic and 'fragments' of memory, allowing the portrait to resemble the original person more closely.
This portrait had been painted after Ariana's death.
The main sources of memory had been Aberforth and Albus. Her personality was timid, skittish, like a 'frightened rabbit.' The slightest disturbance would make her uneasy.
Lucifer wondered how it would feel talking to your portrait while still being alive? After chatting for a while and promising to visit again next week, he left Hog's Head.
With a single step, he returned to Hogwarts.
xxxxxxx