"Er—Harry?" Ron asked suddenly, leaning over the armrest. "Why on earth are you down there on the rug?"
"This was exactly what you meant in the Great Hall, wasn't it?" Lucifer asked him, his dark eyes tracking the sudden shift in the fire's magical resonance. "This is how you planned to talk with Sirius without Ministry interference?"
"Yeah... I just saw his face flash right in the middle of the flames," Harry whispered, his voice trembling with a high, frantic energy. "Exactly like last year during the Tournament. Remember?"
"Right," Lucifer said.
A sudden, rare flush of mild embarrassment burned lightly across his cheeks. He had been so thoroughly consumed by cosmic burdens and his own dark plays last year that he had completely forgotten about the fireplace network communication. "So much went on last year... I actually forgot the mechanics of it..."

'What kind of magic is Sirius utilizing to pull off a trick like this?' Lucifer thought to himself, his sharp mind immediately breaking down the magical structural arrays. Floo network connections usually required a physical body to travel, or a manual connection authorized by the Ministry's Floo Regulation Panel. For an escaped, high-profile convict to cleanly project his facial features through a heavily warded Hogwarts hearth meant he was likely tapping into an ancient, unregistered piece of 'Black family' blood magic or Dumbledore had manually carved an open backdoor into the Gryffindor tower's spiritual ward line.
The three of them quickly slid out of their seats to gaze intently into the hearth as well. Sure enough, the glowing orange coals began to shift, coalescing into the distinct, shaggy features of Sirius Black.
Hermione let out a sharp gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. "Sirius!"
"I was honestly starting to think you three would go to bed before the rest of the room completely disappeared," Sirius's raspy voice echoed softly from the logs, his eyes scanning their faces. "I've been checking the grate every single hour."
"Every hour? You've been popping your head into a public fireplace every hour?" Harry asked, his jaw dropping.
"Just for a few quick seconds to see if the coast was entirely clear yet," Sirius said, a rogue-like grin twisting his fiery features.
"What if you'd been caught by a younger student?" Hermione asked angrily, her academic panic instantly flaring up. "Sirius, the risk—"
"Well, I think a small girl—a first-year, I think---might've gotten a brief glimpse of me earlier in the evening," Sirius chuckled carelessly. "But don't worry, the exact second she clapped her eyes on me, I vanished back into the smoke. She probably just thought it was an oddly shaped log or a trick of the embers."
Hermione placed her palm over her open mouth, her eyes wide with stress. "But, Sirius... this is taking an absolutely awful, reckless risk—"
"You sound exactly like Molly," Sirius sighed from the grate. "But this was the only viable way, and Harry knew that. He hid the answer perfectly inside his letter. It was exceptionally well-written to not give any real information away to the Ministry censors. Well done, Harry."
"Thanks," Harry said, a genuine, proud smile breaking through his tired features.
"Anyway, we better be incredibly quick about this, in case an older student walks in on the meeting. So, about your scar, Harry—"
"What about—" Ron started to interject.
"We'll explain it to you later, Ron," Hermione cut him off quickly, leaning closer to the hearth. "Go on, Sirius, please."
"Well, I know it can't be a pleasant experience whenever it hurts, Harry, but the Order doesn't think it's anything to really worry about just yet. It kept aching all through last year, didn't it?"
"Yeah, and Dumbledore explicitly told me it happened whenever Voldemort was experiencing an intensely powerful emotion," Harry explained, completely ignoring Ron's violent wince at the name. "So maybe he was just, I dunno, really angry or something on the exact night I had that detention."
"Well, now that the man has properly got his body back, it's bound to hurt a hell of a lot more often," Sirius said grimly.
"So you don't think the pain had anything to do with Umbridge physically touching my arm when I was in detention with her?" Harry asked, his green eyes searching the flames.
"I highly doubt it, Harry... I know her by reputation within the old circles, and I am entirely certain she is no Death Eater," Sirius said.
"She's foul enough to be one," Harry spat darkly.
Ron and Hermione both nodded their heads in vigorous, absolute agreement with the sentiment.
"There are plenty of more evil, horrible witches and wizards operating in this world than just the ones who wear Voldemort's mark," Lucifer said casually, his deep voice cutting through their righteous anger with a cold clarity.
"Precisely. The world isn't cleanly split into good people and Death Eaters, kids," Sirius said with a wry, bittersweet smile. "Though I know for a fact she is a nasty, malicious piece of work. You should hear Remus talk about her actions at the Ministry."
"Does Lupin personally know her?" Harry asked, tilting his head.
"No, but she manually drafted a brutal piece of 'Anti-werewolf' legislation two years ago that makes it humanly impossible for him to secure a legal job anymore," Sirius said, a sharp, spiteful edge bleeding into his tone. "She choked off his livelihood."
"What on earth has she got against werewolves?!" Hermione asked, her blood boiling at the systemic injustice.
"I think her malice has more to do with part-humans and magical creatures in general, Hermione," Lucifer explained smoothly, resting his arm over his knee.
"Correct again, Lucifer," Sirius said, his fiery eyes shifting to the boy, "She also aggressively campaigned to have the merpeople rounded up, cataloged, and tagged like common beasts last summer... So tell me, what are her lessons actually like? Is she training you all to execute half-breeds?"
"No," Harry said in a thoroughly disappointed, flat voice. "She's not letting us perform magic at all."
"All we do is read the stupid, outdated textbook word for word," Ron grumbled.
"I actually already torched my copy again," Lucifer said with a lazy shrug, earning an amused, booming bark of a laugh from Sirius. "It's probably the only piece of literature I will ever burn in this lifetime, too. The text is completely worthless."
"Well, it figures that Fudge wouldn't want you practicing practical combat magic in her class," Sirius said, the humor vanishing from his face. "Our secret information from inside the Ministry confirms that Fudge is utterly terrified of you lot being trained in active combat."
"Trained in combat?!" Harry repeated incredulously, throwing his hands up. "What on earth does the Minister think we're doing here? Forming some kind of private wizarding army to storm Whitehall?"
"That is exactly what he thinks you're doing, Harry. Or rather, that is what his paranoia tells him Albus Dumbledore is building," Sirius replied smoothly. "And Fudge is especially afraid because absolutely no witch or wizard who supports his administration can even hope to compare to the power of Lucifer. After what happened at the Quidditch World Cup... there are very few pure-bloods in support of Fudge who aren't completely terrified of you, 'Lucifer.' Word from the auror office is that the Minister has placed your name on a special, classified watch list. But what that could possibly entail, I have absolutely no idea."
"That is easily the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my entire life," Ron scoffed loudly. "And that includes all the total garbage Luna Lovegood comes up with in—argh!"
Ron let out a sharp yelp of pain as Lucifer's palm swiftly connected with the back of his ginger head, delivering a crisp slap that brought his commentary to a dead halt.
"So, we are being systematically prevented from learning basic 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' simply because Fudge is scared we'll use defensive spells against the government?!" Hermione asked, her face flushing as she fumed with an intense rage.
"Yep," Sirius confirmed. "He thinks Dumbledore will stop at absolutely nothing to seize total executive power. The man is getting more unhinged and paranoid about the Headmaster by the day. Mark my words, it's only a matter of time before he attempts to have Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up administrative charge."
"Do you know if there's going to be anything bad written about Dumbledore in 'The Daily Prophet' tomorrow?" Harry asked, his brow furrowing. "Only Ron's brother, Percy, reckons there'll be a massive smear campaign happening soon."
"I don't know, Harry. To be honest, I haven't seen a single soul from the Order all weekend," Sirius said, his voice dropping into a bitter, hollow drone. "It's just been me and Kreacher cooped up in this rot..."
"So you haven't had any recent news about Hagrid, either?" Harry asked desperately.
"Ah... well, he was supposed to be safely back by now," Sirius admitted, his shaggy features twisting in thought. "No one has any real idea what's happened to his position, but he was traveling with Madame Maxime, and the Order is still in constant contact with her. She lost direct contact with Hagrid after they got split up... on the return leg from their mountain mission. But there's absolutely nothing to suggest Hagrid is hurt, or at the very least that he's not fine. Dumbledore isn't worried in the slightest, so you three shouldn't be either."
The moment he said those words, Hermione instinctively looked over at Lucifer's profile. His handsome features were perfectly calm, his breathing level. He wasn't worried about the Gamekeeper at all, and she wasn't quite sure why his confidence was so profound.
"Just promise me you won't go around asking too many public questions about his absence, okay?" Sirius asked, looking specifically at Harry with a strict finality. "The less Ministry attention drawn to the fact that he's not at Hogwarts, the better it is for the Order. He's a Half-Giant; he'll be fine."
Hermione couldn't find a single logical reason to disagree with that; Hagrid was indeed a massive Half-Giant, and Giants were practically impervious to most standard human hexes and spells. It was very likely he had inherited that immense magical resistance directly from his mother's bloodline.
"When exactly is your next Hogsmeade weekend anyway?" Sirius suddenly asked, a bright, dangerous spark returning to his gray eyes. "I was thinking, since we got away with the Snuffles disguise so cleanly at the train station—"
"I wouldn't count on that safety if I were you," Lucifer interrupted him coldly, his deep voice slicing through the godfather's excitement.
"What exactly is that supposed to mean, Morningstar?" Sirius asked, his brow furrowing in the flames.
"Malfoy... he let a few specific words slip to me earlier this week while I was executing my night patrol," Lucifer said flatly. "I don't think your black dog disguise is nearly as safe as your pride thinks it is. Peter Pettigrew is bound to have told Voldemort and his inner circle about your Animagus form during their stay in hiding."
"I've thought the same thing, Lucifer, but the risk—" Sirius started to argue, his Gryffindor defiance flaring up.
"The risk isn't worth it," Harry cut him off completely, his voice tight. "Not if it carries the unfortunate outcome of you ending right back up inside an Azkaban cell, Sirius."
Sirius stared up at his godson through the glowing coals, his shaggy face softening into something almost sad. "You're a hell of a lot less like your father than I originally thought, Harry. James would have found immense fun in the sheer risk of a secret meeting."
"If you are caught by the Ministry again, Sirius, your life will be lived as nothing but a 'soulless,' empty shell after the Dementors are through with you.... And that is assuming a Ministry auror finds you first," Lucifer stated with a bone-chilling clarity that made everyone in the room freeze. "If a Death Eater catches you on the road instead, it will be the 'Cruciatus Curse' repeatedly until you prove entirely useless to them, and then it's a cold death in a ditch."
"Lucifer, that's—" Hermione started to gasp, horrified by the graphic detail.
"If that horrific reality still sounds worth the fun of a risk, then by all means, show up at Hogsmeade," Lucifer pressed on relentlessly, completely ignoring her interruption as his dark eyes locked onto the hearth. "But if seeing your godson survive after Voldemort is finally dealt with is more important to you, then you should stay inside your house... I can't tell you what to do—it's your life, your choice. But you've got to start weighing the real risks, or this might end incredibly badly for you. That's all I'm saying."
His blunt, merciless words earned a pair of deeply nasty, resentful looks from both Ron and Sirius, the tension in the room turning thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Lucifer is right, Sirius. And I don't think it's worth the risk of you coming down to Hogsmeade," Harry said, his voice quiet but carrying a strict, reluctant finality.
"Well... I'd better get going. I think I can hear Kreacher coming down the cellar stairs," Sirius said, though it was obviously a flat lie to escape the heavy lecture. "I'll write to tell you a specific time I can make it back into the fire, alright? If you can stand to risk the communication."
With a sudden, sharp 'pop,' Sirius's shaggy features vanished from the coals, and the crackling, ordinary orange flames returned to the hearth once more. A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon the four teenagers as they slowly stood up from their kneeling places on the rug.
They all exchanged a series of tired, heavy looks.
"Well... it's incredibly late," Hermione said slowly, checking the grand clock. "We should probably go to bed..."
Harry didn't wait for Ron or Lucifer. He quickly turned and hurried up the stone staircase, his boots clicking softly before he disappeared into the dark.
"I'll go up and make sure he's alright..." Ron muttered, shooting Lucifer one last lingering glare before following after his best friend.
Left alone in the quiet common room, Hermione turned her face to look at her boyfriend. "I think you could have easily said what you did to Sirius a bit less bluntly, Lucifer. He's been trapped in that awful house for months."
"I only said exactly what felt like should be said to keep the man breathing, Hermione," Lucifer said with a weary sigh, running a hand through his neat hair. "Sirius doesn't care about the immensely high risk to his own soul... It wasn't nearly as bad back when he was a student at Hogwarts; the risk of life or death was much lower and he wasn't a convicted, wanted man. If he still chooses to come down after my warning, that is his own decision."
He turned his gaze fully onto her, and Hermione felt a sudden wave of tenderness wash through her as she saw how deeply tired he looked. There had been an immense, invisible weight resting upon his shoulders for a while now, and she couldn't even possibly imagine the depth of the burdens he went through that he chose not to tell her. 'It's completely fine if he doesn't tell me everything...' she thought to herself, her fingers twisting together. 'He has absolutely no obligation to lay his soul bare to me. He'll tell me when he's ready... I hope.'
Lucifer reached out, his large palm lifting to gently trace the soft line of her cheek with the back of his fingers. "You obviously don't think my thoughts are like those of innocent children, do you, pet?" he whispered to her, his dark eyes searching hers.
She placed her small hand over his long fingers, anchoring his warmth against her skin. "I am sorry for pressing you."
Lucifer leaned down smoothly as she stood on her tiptoes, and they kissed for a few beautiful, quiet seconds, the familiar heat of his lips chasing away the chill of the room.
They broke apart slowly, his thumb brushing a stray curl behind her ear. "Sleep well, and I'll see you tomorrow morning, okay?"
"Okay... sleep well, my love," She whispered softly, her heart racing as she almost lost her nerve to add on that extra, intense bit of affection.
Unknown to her, the simple, honest declaration got heart racing furiously inside his chest. They parted ways at the base of the stairs, and Lucifer turned to head up into his shared dormitory.
Harry and Ron had already gone to bed, as neither of them were awake or at the very least, their heavy velvet curtains were pulled tightly shut to block out the world.
Lucifer himself quickly got ready for bed, sliding beneath his own thick covers until he slept soundly through what little remained of the dark night.
xxxxxx
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