They quickly met up with Ron and Harry on the winding dirt road leading into the valley of Hogsmeade, the wind whistling through their cloaks.
"So," Harry said as they walked, turning his face to look at them. "Where exactly are we hosting this thing? The Three Broomsticks?"
"Oh, absolutely no," Hermione said quickly, shaking her head. "No, that place is always packed to the rafters and incredibly noisy on a Saturday. I've explicitly told the others to meet us at the Hog's Head. It's that other pub, you know the one---it's tucked away off the main road. I think the establishment is a bit dodgy, to be honest, but students don't normally go there, so I don't think there's any risk we'll be overheard by the Ministry."
"I've got a distinctly bad feeling about this choice, Hermione... we really should have just done it at the 'Three Broomsticks'," Lucifer said, his dark eyes narrowing. He wasn't fond of Aberforth's tavern because that specific place was historically a notorious black market for underground wizarding dealings; far too many suspicious, hooded people frequently dealt over there to make it a safe haven for a secret student club.
"But it's entirely too noisy in there and always packed, like I said," Hermione reiterated, defending her logistics.
Even though she also secretly wanted to just sit by a warm hearth and drink a sweet Pumpkin Fizz, she had utilized her previous groundwork from her S.P.E.W. badge campaigns last year to map out the student body.
Recruiting companions within the Gryffindor common room had gone quite smoothly; everyone had vividly witnessed Harry's high-tier abilities during the Triwizard Tournament tasks last year. Hearing a rumor that he planned to teach proper, practical 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' had drawn immense interest, not just from the younger years but from many of the older students as well.
The Weasley twins, for instance, had signed up the exact second they heard about the project, though Hermione strongly suspected their motivation was mostly about watching the chaotic spectacle unfold.
In the Ravenclaw house, Lucifer's personal name had come in incredibly handy. His legendary reputation as 'Merlin's Descendant,' combined with the widespread stories of how he had ruthlessly targeted and terrified the older girls who tried to bully Luna Lovegood during her early years, was more than enough leverage.
As the house with the highest percentage of female students, her boyfriend's handsome face alone was an absolute, undisputed pass among the Ravenclaws. Hearing a rumor that gathering fifty interested students would mean Lucifer would personally step up to teach them practical magic, many of the girls had spontaneously recruited their entire dormitories to join.
The spread of the rumor was almost comparable to a Muggle pyramid scheme, forcing a thoroughly jealous Hermione to manually raise the entry requirements somewhat. She was deeply irked by how insanely popular her boyfriend was among the ladies, and she knew secret fan clubs actively existed within the other houses.
To placate her own insecurity, she had strictly decreed he wouldn't teach anyone too young to grasp the concepts, nor would he waste time on students who already had excellent independent grades.
"That's the entire point of a secret club, though... never mind, forget it," Lucifer said, changing the subject as they neared the edge of the village. "You know, last year, I asked Eve if she wanted to go down to the Hog's Head for a drink, but she flatly said no."
"You still actively talk to Eve?" Hermione asked him, her voice tightening as her head snapped around.
"Only once in a while through the mirrors," Lucifer said easily. "She's currently down in the Mato's Domain with Maze, and she said she might not leave that realm for a long time. Eve has her own life, and so do I. Besides, I'm not worried about her; she can handle her own business." He looked down at his girlfriend, who was staring up at him with a look of deep, burning concern, even though Eve had explicitly sworn she wouldn't try to manipulate him anymore.
But Hermione was absolutely not the type of person who was going to blindly believe a dangerous woman easily, especially an ancient, chaotic entity like Eve, who clearly had a few loose screws in her head. She didn't trust her a single bit. 'Well, at least the woman is safely out of the country for good,' she thought to herself.
They continued down the narrow side alley to the Hog's Head, despite Lucifer's lingering concerns, and finally stood in front of the rustic, weathered structure. He walked in casually, pushing the heavy wooden door open, but the second he stepped over the threshold, he heard the door shut behind him far too quickly.
He turned around and saw through the glass that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing completely hesitantly on the cobblestones, staring at the dingy exterior.
He opened the door again and walked back out, raising an eyebrow. "What exactly is the holdup out here?"
"Nothing," Hermione said, steeling her nerves as she marched straight past him into the pub. Harry and Ron quickly followed her lead, and Lucifer brought up the rear, closing the door behind them.
The dark interior was the complete, absolute opposite of the 'Three Broomsticks.' Where Madam Rosmerta's main pub always gave off an air of pristine cleanliness, rich mahogany, and a crackling warmth from its massive bar area, the Hog's Head bar consisted of one small, dingy, and incredibly dirty room that smelled intensely of what Hermione believed to be wet goats.
Looking at the shabby, splintered wooden door and the low, stained rafters, she suddenly felt a massive wave of regret for choosing this location. This entire place... looked like a shady, criminal establishment.
But the decision had been made, and Hermione could only brace her shoulders. There was only a single old man inside the room, quietly cleaning the stained wooden bar counter with a filthy rag.
She was momentarily startled upon seeing his silhouette, initially mistaking him for Albus Dumbledore, but she breathed a quick sigh of relief after taking a closer look. He merely bore some strong, genetic resemblance to the Headmaster; it wasn't the old man himself.
Both possessed long white hair and sweeping white beards, so a momentary optical mix-up was entirely understandable.
The small bay windows were so thoroughly encrusted with decades of dark grime that very little natural daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the flickering stubs of candles sitting on rough, unpolished wooden tables.
The floor, upon first glance, seemed to be made of packed earth, but just stepping on it proved to be cold stone covered in a thick layer of dirt.
As they walked in, Lucifer's eyes scanned the few patrons scattered in the shadows, all of whom were explicitly hiding their faces. 'We definitely should have just gone to the Three Broomsticks...' he thought to himself, his fingers curling in his pockets.
A man sitting directly at the bar counter had thick, dirty grey bandage wraps completely covering his head, but he was still somehow able to drink a smoking beverage through a small, ragged slit torn around his mouth area. Two figures shrouded in heavy, dark travelling hoods were talking in low, rumbling Yorkshire accents at a table next to one of the cracked windows.
And near the back corner of the room sat a lone witch wearing a long, heavy black veil that went straight down to her toes, her long, pointed nose sticking sharply out the edge of the fabric.
"I don't know about this place, Hermione..." Harry muttered with deep uncertainty, keeping his voice incredibly low. "What if Umbridge is secretly hiding under that black veil to spy on us?"
"Umbridge is a lot shorter than that woman," Hermione answered curtly, huffing loudly as she tried to clear her nose of the foul goat scent by pulling a small vial of perfume from her pocket. "And besides, even if she did come into the Hog's Head, we aren't technically out of bounds.... I double and triple-checked the school rules, and just for good measure, I explicitly asked Professor Flitwick if students were allowed inside this tavern. He said yes, but he strongly advised me that if we chose to drink here, we should bring our own clean glasses from the tower... And I looked up every single clause I could find regarding student study groups and homework circles! They are definitely allowed under the charter, we just don't want to be parading our business around the corridors."
"No," Harry said dryly, his green eyes scanning the dark corners. "Especially as it's not a homework group you're planning to run exactly, is it?"
"Yeah, let's definitely not do any actual homework here," Lucifer joked, trying to lighten the thick tension. "It's not the High Stepping Stone club." Previously, a group of anxious-looking second-year students had approached him in the common room, begging for his reassurance regarding the future of the castle's gaming clubs under the new decrees.
Of course, he had been perfectly serious while answering their fears. Umbridge's new notices might be deeply intimidating to the rest of the school, but to him, her paperwork was as entirely useless as flatulence in the wind.
However, the situation also accurately reflected Cornelius Fudge's current state of mind. The Minister was already completely panicking behind his desk; he probably feared Dumbledore might spontaneously pop out from under his bedsheets while he was sleeping.
Giving Umbridge the official title of High Inquisitor was done solely to have her quickly weaken Dumbledore's total control over Hogwarts. But her legal authority had been considerably reduced due to her recent financial debauchery fine.
At least now, as High Inquisitor, Umbridge didn't possess the unilateral power to expel students without the Board's consent. Without that ultimate weapon, the school's fear of her decrees was somewhat less.
Hermione stifled a small laugh, her elbow lightly nudging Lucifer's side as the old barman finally sidled toward their position out of a dark back room. He was a thoroughly grumpy-looking, old man with a great deal of long, wire-like grey hair that could easily pass for a bird's nest, and a white beard so tangled it looked like the hair had started to knot into dense ropes.
He seriously looked like a rival who could make Lucifer's own girlfriend's bushy hair look tame, a visual challenge that briefly made her competitive spirit rise.
"What?" Aberforth grunted, his blue eyes locking onto Lucifer with a look that suggested he wanted nothing more than to physically throw the boy outside for staring at his beard.
"Four Butterbeers, please," Hermione said politely, keeping her posture rigid.
The old man reached beneath the stained wooden counter and pulled up four incredibly dusty, very dirty glass bottles, which he slammed flat onto the bar with a sharp clatter. "Eight Sickles," he rasped.
Lucifer felt a sudden urge to just throw the man eight gold Galleons. Even though his physical features had changed slightly from the original timeline, this was still Albus Dumbledore's younger brother.
Aberforth was no lightweight; he was an incredibly powerful wizard, far stronger than Snape, and carried a legendary historical reputation for having fun with goats in his youth.
And when Gellert Grindelwald had unleashed a lethal 'Killing Curse' during the old Qilin election in Bhutan, Aberforth had been one of the only wizards alive who reacted fast enough to counter the dark magic. That had been Grindelwald at his absolute peak, and to resist his wand even for a few moments was no small feat.
"I'll get them," Harry said quickly, sliding the silver coins across the counter before Lucifer could reach into his pouch. The barman's sharp eyes looked at the four of them curiously for a long beat before depositing the silver into a creaking wooden till.
Lucifer, Harry, Ron, and Hermione immediately retreated to the furthest table from the bar, sinking onto the rough wooden chairs with their dirty bottles in hand. From across the room, the man in the dirty grey bandages rapped his knuckles against the counter, receiving another smoking drink from the old barman.
"You know what?" Ron murmured, his eyes widening with a sudden enthusiasm as he looked back toward the taps. "We could honestly order absolutely anything we liked inside this room. I bet that bloke would sell us lethal poison and he wouldn't care a single bit. I've always wanted to try real Firewhisky..."
"Yeah, right," Lucifer laughed dryly, taking a sip from his bottle. "One single shot of real Firewhisky, Weasley, and your backside would be flat on the floorboards within seconds."
Ron smirked, leaning his elbows on the table. "Is that a direct challenge, Morningstar?"
Lucifer's dark eyes instantly lit up with a dangerous amusement. But before he could even open his mouth to accept Ron's offer, Hermione spoke up for him, her voice carrying a sharp, commanding finality.
"No. Don't you even think about it," She scolded fiercely, her chocolate eyes narrowing into thin slits as she glared across the table at her boyfriend.
Lucifer pouted his lips slightly, trying to look cute to disarm her, but the theatrical expression just earned him a sharp, painful kick right under the wooden table.
"You-are-a-Prefect!" she hissed through her teeth.
"Okay, okay," Lucifer chuckled, rubbing his shin, but he still looked back over at Ron, silently mouthing the words, 'Next time, mate.'
Hermione, who noticed the silent interaction of course, was completely displeased, her posture stiffening. "Lucifer Morningstar!"
Harry held back a genuine smile, quickly intervening to change the dangerous subject before she could launch into a full lecture.
Disregarding Ron and Lucifer, who were both laughing loudly into their drinks, he leaned forward. "So... who did you say is supposed to be meeting us here, Hermione?"
"Just a couple of people," She sighed, checking her gold watch and looking anxiously toward the heavy wooden door. "I told them that if they knew anyone else who was trustworthy, they should invite them to join as well."
"Are you sure anyone will even show up?" Harry asked, his lingering doubts about his own reputation clouding his green eyes.
xxxxxxx
Hermione sighed irritably, checking the gold watch on her wrist. "Well, I told them exactly what time to be here," She muttered, tapping her foot against the stone floor. "They should be arriving any min---oh, that must be them now."
The heavy, splintered wooden door of the Hog's Head swung open with a loud creak, revealing a massive band of students pouring out of the windy alleyway. It was a crowd way larger than she had described would show up, completely packing the narrow space.
First came Neville Longbottom, followed closely by Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown. They were followed by Padma and Parvati Patil, who walked in alongside Cho Chang and one of her usually giggling Ravenclaw friends. Luna Lovegood walked in next, a serene, dreamy look fixed on her face like always. Katie Bell entered right after, followed by Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson. Both Colin and Dennis Creevey squeezed past the threshold next, leading a huddle that included Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley.
Then came Hannah Abbott. The sudden sight of the blonde Hufflepuff caused Lucifer's heart to skip a beat, but absolutely not for the romantic reason most would think. Hermione, standing right at his side, instantly shot a dark, lethal glance at the big-titted witch who had her eyes focused entirely on her man.
Susan Bones, Rolf Scamander, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot filed in next. Ginny Weasley marched in with a tall, skinny boy trailing awkwardly behind her, who Lucifer's memory correctly identified as Zacharias Smith. A large group of Ravenclaw girls wearing their blue house badges pushed inside to escape the wind. Last but not least, Fred, George Weasley, and Lee Jordan brought up the rear, their arms filled with heavy bags from Zonko's joke shop, no doubt.
"A couple of people?" Harry asked in absolute shock, green eyes widening behind his glasses as he turned to face her. "Hermione, you said a 'couple' of people?!"
"Fuck me, I guess the idea was popular," Lucifer said dryly, doing absolutely nothing to make Harry feel any better about the mounting crowd.
Hermione stared frantically between the two boys, and for some bizarre, unbidden reason, a flurry of vague, perverted images flashed straight through her mind. 'No! No! No! Stupid, horny Hermione, get a grip!' she scolded herself fiercely, her cheeks burning a deep pink. 'This is an official organizational meeting, it is not the time for you to get all hot and bothered over them...'
xxxxxx
Author's Note
If you want to Read my Complete book, including 8th Year, Marriage and having kids, ahead of everyone.
Support this novel, join me on Patreon!
Link - patreon.com/SmutDxddy
We have a stockpile upto Chapter 1030 for you to binge-read! 😋
Playing Cards with Pregnant Hermione on a n*de beach, if you'd like to Read now! 🍼