Chapter 585: Ch 611 - Hand your wand, Morningstar

Lucifer’s heart rate became instantly elevated, his breathing turning erratic as fury warred with a sudden chill in his veins. ’No...’ his eyes whipped around the snowy path, noticing that the other Muggle parkgoers scattered around clearing were abruptly becoming unlike themselves, shuddering and dropping their shopping bags into the drifts. ’Not here... not right now... Umbridge, you fucking bitch...’

In the grey distance, cutting straight through frosted tree line, he spotted the horrible, soul-chilling atrocity that he had feared to ever see manifest in a public, civilian area. A lone Dementor, its robed, decaying form hovering just inches above the snow, was slowly, relentlessly approaching his and Hermione’s position.

Beside him, she obviously felt the crushing, suffocating psychological effects of the Dementor as well. The sudden drop in temperature was catastrophic, and as her vision began to blur, a distant, echoing screaming filled her ears. The sound was intensely familiar, a memory of terror, but in her rising panic, she couldn’t quite place the origin of the crying voice.

She glanced back to Lucifer, finding his handsome face had turned stone-cold, his jaw clenched like iron. He was, after all, the single entity in this park who possessed the capacity to handle a creature of despair without collapsing.

She forced her eyes back toward the Dementor. As the robed monstrosity slowly glided closer over the path, the layer of white snow directly beneath its shadow instantly melted into freezing water, and the patches of grass that were revealed underneath immediately grayed, withered, and died under the rot of its presence.

The Dementors ruthlessly sucked happiness and warmth straight out of the atmosphere. All around the park clearing, the ordinary Muggles went into sudden, temporary catatonic states, their eyes glazing over as they slumped onto the frozen benches, finding themselves void, though their non-magical minds would never be able to logically explain the sudden, crushing despair.

Hermione turned her face back to look at Lucifer, teeth chattering. She saw his lips moving rapidly, but for some reason, Dementor’s despair aura had caused a silence to drop over her ears, leaving her unable to hear his voice.

He turned to face her directly, his lips moving a second time, but again, nothing was heard through the static in her mind. She focused her eyes, successfully reading his lips as he asked her a question: ’Can you hear me, pet?’

"No..." Hermione gasped out, her hands shaking.

’You can read my lips though,’ She clearly read the words from his mouth as his eyes searched. ’Even with these Muggles scattered around the clearing, I have to immediately handle that Dementor before it draws the soul.’

"Okay," She whispered, nodding her head.

When Lucifer took a long step forward to place directly between her and the approaching monster, the sound barrier shattered, and her practical hearing returned to ears.

She heard his voice ring out cleanly through the trees, doing the Patronus Charm. His wand was raised sharply toward the sky. "Expecto Patronum!"

A wild, blinding silver snake flung from the tip of his wand, expanding into a magnificent, roaring vortex of light as it flew through the freezing air straight toward the Dementor. The concentrated light of Ouroboros slammed into the robed creature, seriously injuring beast this time and driving it back into the forest line.

Lucifer purposefully chose to hold back his strength, not wanting to make the International situation worse by outright killing the Ministry controlled creature in the open.

He spun around to face Hermione, his breathing steadying. "Now I’ve got to do a mass ’Obliviate: to alter the memories of Muggles around here befor---"

He abruptly stopped speaking mid-sentence as a brown barn owl arrived before his face, flapping its wings much faster and with a greater velocity than a standard post-bird probably should have been capable of flying.

Hermione’s heart instantly sank straight, her breath catching. "No... please, no..."

Lucifer calmly reached out, took the gold-sealed letter from the owl’s leg, and the bird flew away into the grey sky immediately without a hoot. He broke the wax seal, reading written words aloud in a low, cold voice so Hermione could also know what the Ministry had done.

Official Ministry Notice

’Dear Mr. Morningstar,

We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twelve minutes past eleven this morning in Muggle-inhabited location and in direct presence of several Muggles.

The extreme severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your immediate summons for a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic. Our Representatives are currently on their way to your coordinates to apprehend and destroy your wand.

Please remain where you are.

Hoping you are well,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic’

Lucifer couldn’t believe the absurdity of what he had just read aloud. Surely the letter must have been a pathetic, manufactured joke, or perhaps just a hollow formality. The upper levels of the Ministry knew who he was, what his magic was capable of, and there was simply no way they expected to be taken seriously about a forced arrest.

It was a blatant, pre-planned trap; he had used magic in front of Muggles multiple times during his early terms, but he had never once received a warning letter from Hopkirk’s desk.

He looked over at Hermione’s face, and saw that his brilliant girl was going into a state of hysteria "Oh... this can’t be happening... this cannot be happening to us right now, Lucifer!" She practically yelled his name, a visceral, crying panic filling her voice as she clutched her head.

Before Lucifer could find the words to calm her mind down, series of sharp, overlapping ’pops’ echoed through the park clearing.

At least twenty fully armed Ministry witches and wizards materialized in a tight circle around their bench, their dark wands already drawn and trained straight at his chest.

In immediate lethal response, Lucifer’s pupils began to glow a dangerous, terrifying shade, magic flaring under his skin, ready to kill every soul in the clearing if a single spell was cast or if anyone dared to harm Hermione.

A few more Ministry wizards appeared near the outer benches, but they immediately began performing memory modifications on the catatonic Muggles in the area, quickly sending them away down street after forcefully reminding their minds of important doctor appointments to clear the parameter.

"Lucifer Morningstar! You are hereby officially ordered under Ministry law to hand over your wand for immediate, total destruction, and you are to come with this squad directly!" A senior wizard shouted at him, hand shaking slightly as he held his stance.

Lucifer didn’t say a word, his red eyes noticing the alignment of their wands.

"Are you deaf, boy?" A senior witch from the back row asked sharply. "He said hand over your wand to the department and come with us quietly!"

"Are you certain that you lot feel up to the task of enforcing that?" Lucifer asked smoothly, his voice carrying a bone chilling clarity as he glanced around the circus.

The weight of his presence caused many of the surrounding witches and wizards to instantly lose a portion of their initial confidence, their shoulders slumping as though brains had just spontaneously remembered what kind of entity they were dealing with, he was ’Merlin’s Descendant!’

The squad leader who had spoken first, however, didn’t seem entirely put off by the lineage. "You have been given a direct order by the Minister to surrender your wand and report to the holding cells, Morningstar. We will not ask a second time."

"Who had you come out to this park today? Fudge? Or that pink bitch Umbridge?" Lucifer sneered at them with contempt. He stood perfectly still on the snow for a moment longer, before he delivered his final answer, "I will agree to go with your squad to the Ministry, but my wand stays intact inside my robes. That is the term."

"Lucifer...?" Hermione spoke his name so quietly, her voice cracking with such a despair that she wasn’t even entirely certain she had actually managed to say the syllables aloud.

"Hand over your—" the wizard started to bark, stepping forward.

"I am being exceptionally generous with my current offer to walk out of this park with your squad, human," Lucifer cut him off cleanly, that made it clear he didn’t care to treat the man as a fellow wizard, but rather as a lower species of flesh, "I suggest you take the compromise while you still have your lives."

"L-Let’s just take his compromise... please," A young witch with long black hair whispered from the side line. She was an Auror operating under Madam Amelia Bones’s Department who happened to be present for the emergency deployment, and she felt thoroughly nauseated just standing near his glare, "It’s the safest option for us."

"I am the one in administrative charge of this arrest!" The senior wizard yelled furiously. But before another word could leave his mouth, he suddenly found himself violently choking, his air flow cut off cleanly as he was telekinetically lifted several inches off the snow by his throat.

"You were never in charge of me, human," Lucifer said coldly, his long fingers relaxing as he released the hold he had placed on the wizard’s windpipe.

The wizard fell back onto his knees, gasping for breath in the snowdrifts. Lucifer glanced around at each petrified Ministry employee, before turning his soft attention back to Hermione’s face. He didn’t recognize anyone in this squad, instincts warning him of Fudge’s desperation. "Go back to the house, pet. Tell your mother I had something important come up with and won’t know when I’ll be back, okay?"

She already had hot tears streaming down her face, shoulders shaking as she clutched his arm, "But Lucifer... please, you can’t let them take you---"

"I’ll be fine," he whispered softly against her hair, thumbs gently wiping a trace of the winter frost from her skin, "I love you."

"I--I love you t-too, Lucifer," Hermione said in a quiet, completely shaky voice, her heart breaking into a million pieces with every passing second as she realized she was losing her rock, "Y-You better promise me you’ll come b-back to me..."

"I always do," he offered her a warm, reassuring smile. Then Lucifer turned his hard face back to the Ministry officials, his expression smoothing into a cold mask, "Let’s go. Oh... before I forget to say," he looked directly down into eyes of the head wizard who had foolishly thought he was in control of the situation, "If even a single hair on Hermione Granger’s head is disturbed by any of your Departments while I am away... I will slaughter your very kind from one end of Britain to the other."

None of the twenty wizards seemed to dare oppose or question the validity of what he had just spoken. It was a well-known reality in Wizarding community that Lucifer Morningstar was feared just as much as he was respected. But Hermione, seeing firsthand the sheer, terrifying amount of dread he could spread through a crowd when his boundary was pushed, felt worry; his presence almost rivaled Voldemort’s ability to command fear, maybe it even surpassed.

The very thought of this worried her greatly as she stood alone, thinking whether the war was going to start or not. Hermione watched through tear stained cheeks as Lucifer was tightly surrounded by circle of witches and wizards, before squad disapparated with echoing ’cracks’ vanishing back to the Ministry holding level.

She wiped her face with gloves, but new, hot immediately formed and ran down her skin before her brain could even think of wiping them off.

Turned her boots and walked the long way back to the Granger residence in a depressed state, her mind continuously echoing the fact that he had just explicitly told, he loved her before the darkness took him.

xxxxxx

The feeling of being squeezed through a tiny rubber tube was a sensation one was never sure they would ever get used to. Lucifer began to firmly think he never would. When his physical form re-materialised, the boy found himself standing inside a large subterranean room that was dimly lit by flickering torches.

The architecture of the chamber gave off a dense feeling of pure unease.

He wasn’t particularly put off by the dark atmosphere by any means, but it made him certain that many a common witch and/or wizard would instantly lose their nerve down here.

If the vast majority of the British population cringed and recoiled in fear upon hearing the mere name of Voldemort, they were likely to be put off by a little institutional unease.

Lucifer was roughly pushed toward a heavy, high backed wooden chair resting in the center of the stone floorboards, and he sat down, but strictly only because he allowed his body to do so.

He had come this far with a quiet cooperation, figuring he would play along with their little game for just a bit longer to see.

The young witch with long black hair from the park, the one who had begged her superior to take his initial compromise, walked closer to his position as the other armed Aurors began to spread out to guard the exits.

She leaned down slightly, speaking to him in a tight whisper. "Why did you actually come here with us quietly, Morningstar? We all know who you are... we know what you can do if you’re pushed..."

"What a naive dream, I am not the one trapped, you all are with me... As for why, to gather intelligence on enemy’s corruption, love," Lucifer asked her with a lazy, amused smirk. "Why else?"

She didn’t answer him back, but continued to stare at his face with a deeply anxious look. A second later, a series of grand magical lights flickered on across the upper tiers, and the scope of room was revealed. It was a massive chamber designed for what seemed to be a formal Wizarding Courtroom.

Lucifer figured this must be the same dungeon, Courtroom Ten, that Harry had been dragged into back over the summer holidays. ’Getting right to the point, aren’t they?’ he thought cynically to himself as witches and wizards of varying ages began filling rows of stone benches in attendance for his sudden disciplinary hearing.

’Tomorrow is Christmas Day... idiots must not have had anything better to do with their families.’ Directly across from his central position, a high seat was claimed by a senior Ministry wizard who looked down at him with a burning disdain. He had short brown hair and piercing blue eyes,that were currently filled with hatred for the boy.

Lucifer briefly wondered whether or not the ’Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,’ Amelia Bones, would show up to oversee the protocol. But given that she was likely at home enjoying winter holidays, her assistance on this trial was unlikely. However, one detail he did not miss was the dramatic appearance of both Cornelius Fudge and Dolores Umbridge stepping onto the main podium.

Umbridge didn’t even bother to hide her glaring, triumphant sneer, her short fingers clutching a brand new clipboard. Fudge, on the other hand, desperately tried to keep his personal disdain for the boy off his surface level expressions. Lucifer could still clearly see the political venom hidden right behind his eyes, though.

He also saw dozens of older-looking witches and wizards dressed in plum colored robes sitting on the highest bench above his chair. ’The entire Wizengamot...’

"I honestly didn’t know I was so popular with the government," Lucifer remarked aloud, his voice echoing lazily off the stone walls.

xxxxxxx

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