The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days.
His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story.
Lucifer even started making paper planes and started flying them during the class. Susan bones and Abbott were trying very hard to get their hands on them, but Hermione just rolled her eyes and pinched her nose.
For one thing, when Seamus Finnegan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; and they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins, Ron[s brothers, insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.
"What have we got today?" Lucifer asked Hermione as he sat down at the Gryffindor table .
"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Harry answered for him, shocking Ron (who didn't like him).
"Snape's Head of Slytherin House. My brother said he always favors their lot -- we'll be able to see if it's true," said Ron whose mouth is still full of food and pieces were flowing everywhere.
"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry.
Just then, the mail arrived. Lucifer wondered if he got any then suddenly Rowena approached his table and pushed her leg towards him.
After giving her favourite treats, he started reading his letter.
_____
Lucifer,
Hey it's me here. Don't worry I haven't destroyed your pub yet.
But I am surprised you haven't killed or blown up someone's head up, until now?
There are no prison threats, so I am assuming everything is going OK then?
Mazikeen
_____
"Was there even a need to write this?" Lucifer found it quite astonishing, and he wasn't stupid enough to think that, "How many drafts were sacrificed for this final piece?" he was muttering something like that under his breath.
Hermione who was sitting beside him heard everything and couldn't help but cover her mouth. But it was really very difficult, she was about to burst out laughing at any moment.
She didn't want to be labelled as a perverted girl, who likes to enjoy at other people's inability to even write a few words.
________________
Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.
"Wow, this looks like a real Batcave" Lucifer told Hermione who was giggling at what he was saying.
Harry also heard him and started chuckling. Ron was the only one who looked confused, like he always do.
Then the door in front of the class, that Hermione assumed led to Prof. Snape's office, opened, and the man swept out dramatically in a billow of black swirling robes.
And it was in that moment that Hermione realized that she had been spending too much time with Lucifer, because the first thought that entered her head at the sight of the professor was Darth Vader's theme song.
Somehow, she managed to keep a straight face.
Snape started the class by taking the roll call and he paused at Harry's name.
"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new -- celebrity."
Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word -- like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron, who were sat next to each other, exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to prove she wasn't a dunder head.
Lucifer was looking at the potion master with great interest...his gaze seemed to be looking through his entire life and judging his soul.
Professor Snape got slightly unnerved by his gaze, that's why he just looked away and shouted, "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione hands had shot into the air. Lucifer was still looking at the potion master.
"I don't know, sir," said Harry.
Snape's lips curled into a sneer.
"Tut, tut -- fame clearly isn't everything."
He ignored Hermione's hand, but looked towards Lucifer who was still looking at him with a creepy smile.
"A sleeping potion so powerful it's known as Draught of Living Death," Lucifer answered confidently looking directly at his eyes.
"Very good, Mr. Morningstar," Snape almost smiled. "Five points to Gryffindor. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
All students were looking at each other with surprised expressions as Snape had given points to Gryffindor.
Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry clearly didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.
"I don't know, sir."
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand. He then turned to Lucifer again.
"In the belly of a goat, Sir," Lucifer answered, smugly looking towards the potion master. Not even feeling the slightest remorse towards Potter, as it's his own damn fault for not reading his books.
"Excellent," Snape drew out. "Another Five points to Gryffindor. What is the difference, between monkshood and wolfsbane, Potter?"
At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.
"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "Lucifer probably does and I think Hermione does too, why don't you try them?"
A few people laughed; Snape, however, was not pleased.
"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "Mr. Morningstar , answer it for him."
"They're the same plant" After some time he said "Sir."
"Another Five points!" Snape said. "For your information, Potter, everything Morningstar said was correct. Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
There was sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."
Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising almost everyone except Malfoy and Lucifer, who he seemed to slightly afraid of without knowing why but that kid unnerved him. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Lucifer had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their notion was cooling across the stone floor hunning.
Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.
"You - Potter -- why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."
Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Lucifer kicked him behind the table.
"Don't push it," Lucifer muttered,"You don't want him to turn even more nasty towards you"
After the class ended, Hermione collected her things and marched over to her best friend "Why, was he being so good towards you?!"
"Yeah, he was just bulling Harry. But awarding you points for some reason, I wonder why?!"
Lucifer said cheekily, "Maybe, it's my good looks," Hermione just snorted in response, already quite familiar with this tone.
"I hate him!" Harry wasn't impressed, either.
Lucifer just sighed heavily in response, it's really hard dealing with children "Do you know much about flowers?"
Harry looked quizzically at him, an eyebrow quirked.
"Like planting them...?" He knew a lot about this kind of hard labour, had to keep the gardens managed back at home.
"No, like their symbolism. Do you know what they mean?"
Even Hermione was now intrigued and looked down at the parchment Lucifer held in his hand.
Quickly, she gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Now, Harry was concerned.
"What? What's wrong?" Harry asked, somewhat scared. Had something really bad happened already? What had he missed?
"What was the first question Professor Snape asked you?" Lucifer asked him.
"You were there!" Harry couldn't help but complain.
"Tell it back to me. Slowly." Lucifer commanded.
"Okay, what would I get if I added the powdered root of the asphodel..." He started talking, albeit reluctantly.
"Asphodel," Lucifer interrupted, "is a type of lily that means 'my regrets follow you to the grave."
"Okay, is that it?" Harry thought it was really disappointing.
"No, finish it." Lucifer demanded.
"With an infusion of wormwood..."
"Wormwood means absence and typically means bitter sorrow." Lucifer added.
Harry stared at him, confused. "Put it together. A lily that shows regret that follows the grave, and bitter sorrow." he was still staring, with a blank face, which almost creeped Hermione out.
"Harry, Professor Snape-loosely translated-said 'I bitterly regret Lily's death!." Lucifer explained. Harry paled and his eyes grew wide.
"What?" He immediately yelped, at this shocking revelation.
"When I was writing down his question, it caught my attention. No first year would have known all the answers.....So, why would he do such a stupid thing? And my first lo-friend taught me what flowers symbolized. That's what got me thinking....maybe something more was going on, and there really was!" Lucifer began to explain, he even had to correct his words quickly. It was really a painful topic.
"So, you are saying that Snape knew about my mother?" said Harry with teary eyes. 'Is there such a good thing in this wizarding world? Can I know it too?'
Lucifer who didn't hear his question, just started looking towards the blue sky, with a worried expression and gave them an ominous warning, "Storm is coming"
Hermione who was looking at him, with a worried expression from the side, asked him hesitantly, "What do you mean Lucifer?" 'He looks like an angel' She wasn't blind, and obviously noticed his good looks, Lucifer is the most beautiful person, she has ever met. Very handsome.
Lucifer blinked his eyes, realising they were waiting for his answer. "Yes, Potter it looks like Snape knew something....If you want to know, then, start showing some good results in his class" But he didn't have much hope.... after seeing these two boys the whole day. He always felt they stopped walking the path of life a long time ago.
Lucifer knew they were hopeless, just take a look at Harry, he has already gone quiet, after hearing this, "Y-yeah, I will think about it....but thanks anyway," He obviously has no intention of doing it.
"Well, you did make friends with the Devil, after all?"
All three of them, shared confused looks with each other but just shrugged again, for being random non-sense. Lucifer was always talking about weird things, that they couldn't understand.
Just like when they first entered the Great hall, he started talking to ghosts about Reapers and some biblical stuff.
'Maybe I should also try reading them, to have some kind of common ground?' That's what Hermione thought, there was a bunch of old stuff in her Grandpa Wendell's room.
It obviously didn't hurt to gain some extra knowledge, besides in this way, she would be able to understand Lucifer much better.
______________
Talk about History of Magic, it was everything Hermione had hoped it wouldn't be.
This is to say that History of Magic was-God, how she hated to say it. Boring.
History of Magic was boring.
In fact, it was the most boring class Hermione had ever had the displeasure of sitting in. Prof. Binns just kept droning in this monotone so flat that a robot sounded lively by comparison.
It was a struggle to make her mind focus on his words.
Thirty minutes into the lecture, half the students were asleep, and the remaining half, mostly Ravenclaws, looked like they were trying to keep from nodding off.
Hermione stopped herself from looking at her watch for the third time in what she knew had only been a minute.
A watched pot never boils.
She tried to return focus to Prof. Binns' lecture, but it was proving even more difficult than usual, and that was because, apparently, the boy to her left had decided to take up humming as a new hobby.
"Lucifer, stop it. I'm trying to pay attention."
In contrast to literally everyone else in the classroom, Lucifer practically looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
He was lounged back on the chair, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4 in his hand, and he'd been trying to cast The Summoning Charm on a piece of parchment on the table.
It hadn't been going too well; all he'd managed to do so far was to make the parchment twitch a few times, so apparently, he'd decided to take a break and do some humming instead.
Lucifer looked at her. "Granger, I highly doubt my not humming will help you pay attention any better."
She scowled. "Well, it certainly isn't helping, is it? And could you at least pretend like you're paying attention?"
"Why?" Lucifer asked. "I'm not. That's why I've got that guy." He gestured at his Self-Writing Quill that was diligently noting down every word Prof. Binns said in beautiful gold ink.
Hermione's scowl deepened. Clearly, Lucifer didn't have any issues with using quills when they favoured him.
"You need to do more than just take notes, Lucifer; you also have to pay attention in class."
Lucifer began to respond, then he paused and gave Hermione a very thoughtful look. "You're not actually trying to convince me, are you? You're trying to convince yourself."
Hermione spluttered. "Of course not! Why would I need to convince myself to pay attention in class?"
"Because the class is boring. And because Binns is a terrible teacher. There's nothing that listening to him talk will give you that the transcript won't, and you know this. But you feel that you must do it, because that's how it's supposed to be done. So you try to convince yourself, by using me as some kind of... sounding board for your arguments."
******
"Huh. It's like the potions' textbook all over again," Lucifer said thoughtfully.
Hermione had no idea what potions' textbook he was talking about, but she had trouble caring about that right then with how angry she was.
The worst part was that she didn't know why what he'd said was making her angry, but it was, and not knowing was simply making her angrier.
"Fine, then," Hermione said curtly, "do whatever you want."
And with that she tried to ignore him and pay attention to the lesson.
The nerve of him. All she'd wanted to do was help him, and he was acting like she was being a know-it-all.
Well, he hadn't actually used that term, but that was beside the point.
They were supposed to pay attention in class. That was what they were supposed to do.
Even if the teacher was boring, and dreary, and she knew he was quoting the textbook verbatim-argh!
Hermione's inner turmoil was interrupted by her partner's sigh.
Then she watched him from the corner of her eye as he stopped the Self-Writing Quill and, using a pen, continued the note-taking by hand in his own rather unflattering penmanship.
Hermione blinked. "I thought you didn't see any point in paying attention?" She asked.
"Still don't. Not even a little bit."
Hermione frowned. Not sure how to respond. Lucifer didn't sound angry, or snarky. He sounded nothing like she'd thought he would.
Before Hermione could think of something to say, he sighed again, pen tapping on the desk thoughtfully.
Then he said, "you know, one of the few things that I recall my mum telling me, is that I have a habit of making people face their truth." Lucifer looked at her, and his eyes were lost and sad. "She said that this isn't a bad thing, as long as I also remember to face my truth...which is, Granger, that I'd rather suffer three hours of Binns' torture, than to drag out a pointless argument with you."
A beat passed.
"Damn, that sounded way better in my head," Lucifer muttered.
It was in that moment that Hermione realized that, for the first time in her life, she had technically won an argument and it didn't feel good.
She didn't much like the feeling; like she'd taken a bite of her favourite food only to realise that it was ash all along.
Hermione almost sighed. Why couldn't Lucifer just be like every other boy her age?
Now, his words were causing her to evaluate her own actions, and she couldn't deny that, while she may not have been in the wrong, she had undoubtedly handled this entire event with none of the aplomb she should have.
Because Lucifer was right, she didn't want to take notes. Or pay attention to Binns' dull lecture. She would much rather be studying something else.
Hermione huffed.
Was this what her Mum had meant when they talked about growing up?
The girl had to admit that she didn't much care for it.
Lucifer went back to taking notes, and Hermione tried to do the same, but if it had been difficult to focus on the incorporeal professor before, it was now virtually impossible.
She needed to say something, didn't she?
She had to do something to push past... this.
Hermione's eyes alighted on the Self-Writing Quill on the table where Lucifer had dropped it.
"So, your quill," Hermione began, then cleared her throat when her voice came out smaller than she'd expected, "it writes well," she finished, and then almost cringed at her own words.
That was the best she could come up with!?
Fortunately, Lucifer saw the olive branch for what it was, because he smiled and said, "it does, doesn't it? Much better than my small one."
Hermione smiled back. Then after a moment: "You didn't look like you were making much progress with The Summoning Charm earlier. I could practice with you if you want."
And barely a minute later, Lucifer's Self-Writing Quill was steadfastly transcribing Binns' lecture once more, while the two children practiced a spell many years above theirs.
At least, they got the parchment to do more than twitch by the end of the class.