At the lunch break, Angelina Johnson came sprinting up to their group just before they entered double doors of the Great Hall. "I've got the permission form!" she said happily, waving a signed parchment in the air.
"The Quidditch team is back up?" Lucifer asked her immediately, glad that his advanced warning had allowed her to exploit the loophole on time.
"Yes! I went straight to Professor McGonagall, I'm sure she appealed the case directly to Dumbledore," Angelina explained happily, her face beaming. "Either way, our practice sessions are back on the calendar. So, I want you three down on the pitch at seven o'clock sharp this evening. We've got to make up for a lot of lost time."
She quickly squeezed past their shoulders and vanished into bustling Great Hall. Ron walked over to stone casement, looking out the glass at the dark horizon, and his triumphant smile faltered a bit. "I honestly hope this storm clears up before seven... what is up with you today, Hermione?"
"Hmm?" She turned her face toward him, tearing her eyes away from the rain-washed window too as the four of them claimed their usual seats for lunch. "Oh, it's nothing at all, Ron. Just lost in deep thought..."
"Care to share with the table?" Ron asked her, reaching for a sandwich.
"No... no, I think it is something best kept strictly to myself for now," was all she said in a cold tone as she began filling her plate with meat.
"I am not going down to the Quidditch practice today," Lucifer announced flatly, pouring himself a cup of water.
"What? Afraid of a little rain, Morningstar?" Harry asked with a teasing smirk.
"No," Lucifer said, his dark eyes locking onto the boy's profile with surity. "I told Angelina on Wednesday that as long as you were going to report to the practices, I would only show up for the mandatory Monday and Friday sessions... If she asks where the reserve Seeker is tonight, tell her what I said."
"Okay... why can't you just tell her yourself?" Harry asked him, looking puzzled.
"If I see her again before the bell, I will. But if not, then please do the favor for me this evening," was all Lucifer said, his tone final as he turned his attention back to his lunch.
The remainder of the week went on just as miserably and grey as they had expected under the Ministry's shadow. Umbridge made significant, aggressive attempts at maintaining a total chokehold on order around the castle, as she was now intercepting random letters and heavily watching the common room fireplaces for any means of outside communication.
This was proven to the tower when Sirius had tried to contact his godson a second time, only to be almost immediately cut off by her monitoring network.
Lucifer was honestly seconds away from simply giving the group a copy of his invention, 'WhatsApp', to bypass the Ministry entirely. But his calculations reminded him that introducing digital technology would impact the magical timeline far too severely, utilizing something that shouldn't exist in this era.
Albus Dumbledore and Rubeus Hagrid were still visibly missing from the high table during multiple meals.
Professor McGonagall had cryptically let it slip to the Prefects during their rounds that school structure was currently unde surveillance ever since Umbridge had been appointed High Inquisitor.
But things were finally looking up by Saturday morning. The Gryffindor team was officially cleared to continue playing their season matches, and the very first official, secret meeting of 'Defense's Academy' was scheduled to happen that evening.
At half past seven, the quartet stepped out of the Gryffindor portrait hole, Harry tightly clutching a certain piece of parchment inside his hand.
Lucifer and Hermione led their two friends along the winding corridors to the seventh floor, the three of them looking extremely nervous about the high legal possibility of being caught and expelled.
"Hold it right there," Harry warned in a sharp whisper, unfolding the thick sheets at the top of the last stone staircase. He tapped the blank surface with his wand tip, muttering the activation line, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
The full, shifting map of Hogwarts appeared across the parchment. Tiny black moving dots, neatly labeled with ink names, showed where various people were patrolling. "Filch is currently on the second floor," he whispered, holding the Marauder's Map close to his glasses. "Mrs. Norris is prowling on the fourth."
"And what about Umbridge?" Hermione asked anxiously, her fingers tightening around her bag strap.
"Safe inside her private office," Harry pointed with a goofy, relieved grin, "Okay, the coast is clear. Let's go."
They hurried along the corridor to the exact place that Lucifer and Hermione were already all too familiar with, the long stretch of blank stone wall opposite the tapestry of trolls dancing foolishly.
Lucifer had to conceal a proud, wicked smile as the intense memories of that rainy night with Hermione flooded his mind. She, noticing the shift in his posture, sent her boyfriend a cheeky, discrete wink from behind her curls.
He somehow focused his thoughts, pacing the wall. 'We need a private, secure place for defensive magic practice... where only the ones who signed the contract can find us.' To his friends' surprise, a highly polished wooden door suddenly materialized straight out of the stone.
"Whoa..." Ron whispered in awe.
"Come on inside," Lucifer said smoothly. He walked up to the threshold, carefully placed his large hand on the brass doorknob, and opened it flat.
Inside, they found a magnificent, spacious room with tall bookcases lining the walls and large, silk blue cushions scattered across the floorboards.
A set of dark shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of delicate instruments, such as spinning Sneakoscopes and Secrecy Sensors, alongside a large, cracked Foe-Glass that looked incredibly familiar to Lucifer's memories.
Nearly a hundred advanced books, simple yet useful magical props, and specialized equipment to measure the raw strength of practical spells filled the space, every single corner of the room radiated professionalism. To Lucifer, this layout was exactly how a proper 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' classroom should look.
"These are going to be bloody brilliant when we start practicing our Stunning Spells," Ron said enthusiastically, kicking one of the plush blue cushions lightly with his boot.
"And just look at these titles!" Hermione said, feeling on cloud nine as her academic instincts flared up. She walked straight up to one of the dark bookcases, her fingers tracing spines. "'A Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter-Actions... The Dark Arts Outsmarted... Self-Defensive Spellwork'... wow," She turned her face back to look at Lucifer, her eyes shining. "This is wonderful! There are so many texts! Everything we could possibly need to pass our exams is right here!"
And in true, classic Hermione fashion, she immediately slid a heavy volume titled 'Jinxes for the Jinxed' off the shelf, plopped her body onto a blue cushion, and began reading the first page. As she admired the setup, another gentle, rhythmic knock came on the wooden door.
When Lucifer and Harry turned their heads, they saw Ginny, Dean Thomas, Neville, Fred, and George all walking inside the room.
"Woah... what on earth is this place?" Dean asked, looking up at the high ceiling.
"We'll explain after everyone else arrives," Lucifer replied from the side.
Soon enough, rest of the thirty-five students arrived in a sort of frantic flood, their boots scuffling against the floor as they all plopped down onto the silk cushions. The heavy door was closed firmly by Lucifer. His eyes briefly flashed a dark red as he locked the parameter, and the door gave a satisfyingly magical click when it shut.
Hermione carefully marked her place in her text and rested the book flat on her lap as she stared at her boyfriend. In a matter of a few minutes, she efficiently checked her parchment signature list against the attendees and confirmed that every person was present.
Lucifer mused quietly to himself that she would make excellent secretary material in the future.
"Well," Harry started, standing up and looking slightly nervous. Even he had to admit to himself that his public reputation at Hogwarts, especially after the terrifying events of the 'Triwizard Tournament,' had reached extraordinary heights this term. It was like his own name acted as a beacon for the rest of the students. "This is the secure place Lucifer managed to find for our training, and er, you've obviously all made it here okay—"
"It's fantastic," Cho Chang said happily, a warm smile on her face, and several murmurs around the room agreed with her assessment.
"This place is wonderful," Katie Bell said, nodding. "Good find, Lucifer," she smiled over at him.
"It's bizarre, honestly," Fred said, looking around the rafters. "We once hid from Filch inside this exact corridor, remember, George? Only it was a tiny broom cupboard back then..."
"Well," Harry looked around, turning his face to Lucifer. "Is there anything you want to say to open up?"
"I've put a great deal of thought into what specific spell we should practice first," Lucifer started, his voice commanding the room, but he stopped speaking when Hermione's small hand was raised cleanly into the air. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
A lot of muffled snickers and chuckles rippled through the older Gryffindors.
"Well," she said, lowering her hand as her cheeks visibly flushed a deep pink to the onlookers, "I just thought we ought to formally elect a leader fir--"
"Harry is the leader, obviously," Cho Chang said instantly, looking at the bushy-haired girl as if she had gone completely mad for questioning it.
"Lucifer should be the leader, honestly," Katie Bell countered from her cushion. "He is immensely powerful and already knows almost every advanced spell in existence."
"I think they should both be leaders, since they will be teaching us the practical components," Hermione corrected them smoothly, her voice a calm anchor. "But I thought we should vote on the matter to make it official and formal under the rules. Everyone in favor of a joint leadership, raise your hand." Her cheeks remained pink from the boys' teasing.
Every hand in the room went up into the air, even Zacharias Smith's, though his gesture was incredibly half hearted and slow.
"I think we also should have an official name for our group," Hermione said, her posture straightening. "It would promote a strong feeling of unity and team spirit among the different houses, would it not?" She laid out the logic, and pretty much everyone in room agreed with the sentiment
"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" Angelina Johnson asked hopefully, her jaw clenching.
"I like where your mind is heading, Johnson, but no," Lucifer said, giving her a subtle, upwards nod of approval.
"What about the 'Ministry of Magic are Morons' Group?" Fred suggested with a grin.
"I was thinking of something that didn't explicitly spell out what we were doing to the corridors," Hermione said, looking aghast by their total lack of manners, "That way, we can safely refer to the project outside of these meetings without arousing suspicion."
"Why not what I proposed earlier at the pub, the Defense Association?" Cho Chang said, her brow furrowing slightly as she felt strange that Hermione was looking at her so gravely. "We can call it the D.A. for short."
"Yeah, the D.A. is good," Ginny Weasley agreed, catching onto the underlying bad mood between the girls and wanting to support Cho instantly. "But how about we call it Dumbledore's Army? Since the old man is currently the Ministry's worst fear, right?"
'The last person in this world who deserves to have something powerful named after them is Albus Dumbledore... but I can tell I am outvoted by the lions here,' Lucifer thought cynically to himself, keeping his lips sealed.
Hermione forced a tight, polite smile at the suggestion, her fingers smoothing her skirt. "All in favor of the name D.A. standing for Dumbledore's Army?" she asked, getting to her feet and raising her own hand only on a matter of principle.
Over half of the students in the room raised their hands into the air, but no one missed the detail that Lucifer didn't bother to raise his hand at all. "Alright, that's a clear majority, the motion is officially passed."
'Nothing can possibly go wrong in a democracy...' Lucifer thought with a dry, bitter cynicism.
Hermione took the roll parchment with all of their signatures and pinned it flat against the wall next to the door, begrudgingly writing 'Dumbledore's Army' across the top line, "Okay, so first up, I think I agree with Harry on this and suggest we practice the Disarming Charm, Expelliarmus. It's a basic, fundamental defensive spell, and many of you will remember the theory from three years ago—"
"Oh, please," Zacharias Smith cut her off loudly, letting out a sharp scoff from his cushion. "I don't think a simple 'Expelliarmus' is going to help any of us against You-Know-Who, do you?"
"I have personally used it against him," Harry said quietly, his green eyes onto the Hufflepuff boy. "It quite literally saved my life last June in the graveyard."
The room became agonizingly quiet at the reminder of the duel, and Smith held his mouth open stupidly, his bravado vanishing in an instant.
"But if you find the basic spell beneath your talent, Smith, you are free to leave through that door," Harry said, but no one moved an inch, not even Smith. "Okay, then I suggest everyone divide up into pairs and give it a try, alternating between who says the incantation, just to get a feel for the speed of the spell."
Everyone got to their feet, wands drawing as they began to partner up across the cushions. What came as an shock to the front row, however, was Ron Weasley practically sprinting across straight toward Hermione, wanting so incredibly badly to be her designated practice partner.
Sending a brief, highly apologetic and desperate look back to her boyfriend, Hermione begrudgingly scurried off to the side with Ron and began practicing her stance. Lucifer merely leaned against a bookcase, his eyes tracking the room as first sparks of red light began to fly through the air.
xxxxxx
Harry partnered with Ginny, which left Neville as the only student without a companion.
"You can practice the casting with me, Longbottom," Lucifer told him, stepping into position. With a quick count of three and Harry shouting the go-ahead, the entire room erupted into a sudden, deafening chorus of "Expelliarmus!"
Wands instantly began flying in all directions. Stray, missed spells slammed directly into the wooden bookshelves, sending heavy texts cascading through the air.
Lucifer's casting speed was far too rapid for Neville to track. Within seconds, the boy's wand went spinning out of his grip, hitting the stone ceiling in a bright shower of crimson sparks before landing with a loud clatter on top of a high bookshelf. He casually retrieved it using a wandless summon, his eyes briefly glowing a subtle red.
Looking around the chaotic room, Lucifer was glad he had insisted on starting their curriculum strictly with the basics. There was a staggering amount of shoddy, inaccurate wand work on display among the houses.
Most of the teenagers failed to disarm their opponents properly, instead merely causing their partners to jump back a few clumsy paces or wince as the red sparks flew harmlessly past their ears.
"Expelliarmus!" Neville shouted a moment later, throwing his entire arm into the motion. But his spell had no physical effect whatsoever on Lucifer's stance. "Damn it," the boy muttered sadly, his shoulders slumping as he stared down at his shoes. "I can never seem to get that specific movement right."
"It's alright, Longbottom," Lucifer said consolingly, clapping him firmly on the back. "Your intent is there. We'll work on the wrist snap together."
After excusing himself from Neville to let the boy practice his grip, Lucifer walked over to Harry to discuss the tactical state of the room, who wiped his glasses, suggesting quietly, "We should probably go around the pairs and manually help them out with their arcs."
"Agreed," Lucifer said, and the two instructors began weaving their way through the crowded cushions. However, both of them had severely underestimated just how many of their peers desperately required basic intervention.
"Okay, stop! Everyone stop!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs, but the room was so loud with shouting that no one seemed to hear his voice over the din.
Lucifer decided to give it a try. "Stop!" his voice boomed with a sudden, localized sonic pressure that vibrated the windowpanes, causing every student to freeze mid motion and instantly halt what they were doing.
"Blimey, that wasn't bad at all," Harry muttered, genuinely impressed by how fast the noise died down.
"Yeah. But there is a lot more room for fundamental improvement here than I would care to admit," Lucifer said smoothly, his eyes scanning the rows. His blunt assessment caused several of the older Ravenclaws to turn a deep red in shame.
"Let's just give it another try from the beginning," Harry said encouragingly. Being kind-hearted, he didn't pay the initial failure any mind.
"And remember, no unnecessary, flamboyant wand work," Lucifer added sharply, his voice dropping into freezing, "Don't get overly excited, keep your feet planted, and focus your mind... A real Death Eater out in the world will ruthlessly exploit a sloppy stance to kill or severely injure you within seconds."
The harsh warning seemed to instantly make everyone in the room understand the true, life-or-death severity of what they were trying to learn. The pairs went at it again, and the second attempt was noticeably better, though it still left plenty of room for technical improvement.
The instructors walked around the room, manually adjusting grips and helping anyone who struggled with the timing. Lucifer stepped over to help Cho Chang and Marietta Edgcombe adjust their angles, before pivoting to assist the Patil twins, both of whom promptly giggled bashfully at needing his personal attention.
From across the floorboards, he heard Harry step up to help Cho with her stance, while nearby, Luna Lovegood began dreamily discussing her father's unwavering support of anything 'Anti-Ministry,' which earned a small smile from Harry.
Pretty soon, however, the dials on Lucifer's pocket watch ticked to ten-past nine. He clapped his hands together to get their attention again. "Alright, everyone wrap it up. It's pushing the time limit as it is. If we stay any longer, non-Prefects risk getting caught in corridors by Filch."
"Same time, same place next week?" Harry asked the crowd, looking thoroughly pleased with the turnout.
"We need to meet sooner than that!" Dean Thomas called out, and a large number of the students nodded their heads in eager agreement.
Angelina Johnson, however, had to put in her captain's word. "The Quidditch season is about to start, everyone! My team needs the pitch for practices too."
"Let's lock in next Wednesday night at seven-thirty sharp then," Lucifer decided smoothly. "We can figure out a more permanent multi-day schedule in the future once the matches begin."
Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map, his eyes scanning the ink lines to watch for any sudden movement from Filch or Mrs. Norris. He let the students leave the room in small, staggered groups of threes and fours, waiting until the organizers were the only ones left standing by the fire. "That went really well for our first run, didn't it?" He asked, stretching his arms.
"Yeah, it was great. Did you see how many times I successfully disarmed Hermione?" Ron asked proudly, puffing out his chest.
Hermione let out a sharp tutting sound as they walked out of the 'Room of Requirement,' watching as the brass handle dissolved back into the seamless, doorless stony wall. "That was once that you actually disarmed me intentionally, Ronald," She stung back at him, her lips thinning. "If you want to feel good about the specific instance where you accidentally knocked my wand out of my fingers because you tripped over your own feet, then by all means, be my guest."
"Weasley, with how many times Hermione cleanly caught you before that little accident, your body would be cold if she were an actual Death Eater," Lucifer said dryly as they began descending the hidden staircases toward the fifth floor.
"Well... it's a bloody good thing she's on our side then," Ron admitted sheepishly, rubbing his arm. "She is terrifyingly fast with her spellcasting when she gets going..."
Hermione was unable to stop the proud, happy smile that formed across her face at the praise, fingers tightening around her bag.
xxxxxxx
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