When Chloe chose her daughter, and a mortal life, over eternity with him, Lucifer had to escape. He spent months traveling the world. People thought it was to drink himself into oblivion and sleep with anyone who moved. And while he did both of those things, he spent his sober time looking for the supernatural - Los Angeles had been so full of actors and fakes that the superficial seemed to preclude the supernatural. He wanted to find the occult, and not the sycophants, there were plenty of those in LA. He wanted the truly supernatural: witches, werewolves, vampires, and mermaids.
While he was reveling in the supernatural community in his time in London, a gorgeous young witch caught his eye.
She wasn't a traditional beauty, but she had a self-sure air about her. She was out of place on this street, Nocturn Alley, but she had come from a potion supply store, with two large bags to show for her efforts. People greeted her when she walked by, and little witches and wizards whispered and pointed, giggling when she would wave to them.
Lucifer had no idea who she was, but he was going to find out.
He followed her into Diagon Alley, where she made her way towards The Leaky Cauldron. He'd spent enough time around here in the last week or so to know she would probably leave through there, into the regular, ordinary world.
Walking down the street, a newspaper salesman was shouting headlines. One such shout earned him a deadly stare from the woman in question. If he hadn't known better, he would have said the young man has seen his own, true face, rather than a glare from a young witch. But the reaction was the same, nonetheless.
As he gained on her, he stopped to buy the newspaper in question. The cover news story of The Daily Prophet, in its beautiful, animated glory, was this woman, Hermione Granger-Weasley, slapping Ron Weasley across the face, while the young witch whose lipstick was smeared across Ron's face, hid behind him. The headline read "Tarnish on the Golden Trio." Lucifer struggled to catch up to this 'Hermione' and skim the article at the same time. What he could gather, it wasn't Ron's first time cheating on her, but it was his last. And the article anticipated divorce filings before week's end.
When Lucifer made his way into the pub, he searched the far, muggle-side entrance, with no Hermione in sight.
"You may as well join me, you've worked this hard to keep track of me."
In the shadow-covered booth, in the corner, Hermione sat. As Lucifer approached, the barman brought to the table two frothy looking beer-like beverages, two small tumblers with an amber liquid in them, as well as a bowl of ginger and a bowl of peanuts.
She gestured with her hand for him to take a seat in the booth opposite. He did so, and they lifted the tumblers. Hermione downed hers in one, so Lucifer followed suit. He was not prepared for Fire Whiskey this early in the day and coughed. She chuckled, and bit into a piece of ginger, before sipping, what he would learn, was Butterbeer.
"I know you're not from The Prophet, they only hire witches and wizards, and you're not. But I don't know what you are. I'm sorry, I'm thinking out loud." She extended her hand. "Hermione Granger." He saw the restraint it took her to stop short, but admired the tenacity, claiming her name and identity this early after a breakup. Lucifer made a mental note that she wasn't broken-hearted.
He shook the proffered hand and held it, she let it happen.
"Lucifer Morningstar."
He watched, people always had a reaction, he waited to see hers.
"Do you mean the actual Lucifer? Or were your parents just fans?" He paused a beat, for affect, of course.
"The actual." He let the fire behind his eyes shine through. Her eyes grew wide, not in fear, but intrigue. She also didn't pull her hand away. So, Lucifer dared to hold her hand in both of his. She did react to this, and Lucifer noticed it: she blushed. This apparently famous, self-assured woman still appreciated a bit of flirting. He was thrilled.
"Let me buy you a drink." He said, gently stroking her hand with his thumbs.
"We've had two." She pointed out, her small thumb running along the curve of his long, fine fingers. She wasn't saying no, she was just being practical. "Besides, they never let me pay."
"Do they do that for all young, attractive witches? Or just yourself?"
She blushed again.
"Only the ones who saved the world."
Lucifer was confused. She was serious.
"You have an English accent, but you could have picked anywhere. I forget how good the cover-up was."
She spent the next two hours with him in the booth, explaining the war, the golden trio, horcruxes, and Voldemort. He sat, absorbed in the story, listening intently, asking questions as necessary. Meanwhile, they had several more drinks and shared a meal together.
"But if you didn't know any of that," she paused, looking across the table to him, with eyes full of alcohol and an afternoon of flirting, "why did you follow me in the first place?"
And so, Lucifer explained his wings, his Father, Charlotte, Chloe, and his world tour. He didn't hold back and she didn't look bothered. She listened to his story, or the abbreviated, concise version.
"And so, I was standing there when this confident, amazing, beautiful young witch starts off, away from me, and I knew I had to meet her."
He put his hands down on the table. Hermione's hands felt cold now that he had let them go. She knew they must have let go to have their drinks, and their food, but it happened so naturally, she couldn't remember.
"So now what?"
She had to ask.
Lucifer looked back at her, confused. He hadn't thought of it himself. They felt natural together, that separating seemed foreign.
"Can I walk you home?"
"It's a bit far. I was going to apparate."
He knew the concept, but hadn't seen it done. What he did know was: he had wings for travel, and no magic at his own disposal. He looked a bit sad.
"You are welcome to join me for tea though, if you'd like."
While they shared lunch, it was getting late, another meal was necessary.
"I'd love to, but I'll need directions."
Hermione looked at him confused. Then it clicked. "I can apparate with you, if you trust me." She paused, then added, "How were you going to travel?"
He raised his eyebrows in suggestion, but left her question unanswered. He can save the wings for another day.
They apparated together, to a quiet street, where she went through a tiny wooden gate, up to the door of a small terraced home.
Hermione had reached the front door when she suddenly dropped her packages and turned toward Lucifer, who was passing through the gate. "Wait!" She yelled. Lucifer put the latch on the gate and turned to her.
"You're afraid that the protective spell you put up, to protect your home from evil, was going to hurt me?" When she looked stricken, he amended, "to kill me?"
She nodded.
"People are evil," he explained. "I don't make anyone do anything. But if they do those evil things, I punish them for it." Hermione saw the fire in his eyes again, and felt the heat that emanated from his skin. "And while I have no magic of my own, I can sense it, especially when the spell is as powerful as this one."
He joined her on the front stoop, and started to bend, preparing to help pick up the fallen items. She stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry about that," she said to him. Lucifer went to brush it away, the way he usually does to those comments, but she held his eyes, sincerity in her own.
"Thank you," was all he could manage, even at a whisper. Centuries of having to explain he wasn't evil, wore a devil out.
Hermione stood on her tip-toes and kissed him gently on the cheek, her lips touching the very corner of his own. His eyes closed on their own, just briefly.
He opened them, and she smiled up at him.
"Let me help you . . . " he started to say, leaning forward to start picking up again, before she cut him off.
"Witch, remember? Magic."
She took out her wand and lifted the bags and their spilled contents. Lucifer held out his arms, so the two newly-collected bags could rest with him while she fumbled in her bag for her keys.
"Why do you bother with keys when you are using magic?" Lucifer asked as they made their way inside, placing the bags on the entry-way table.
"Sometimes the simplest solutions are the easiest. Magic might deter some people, but if I don't want to risk killing a stupid muggle, I just lock the door."
"You really do have lethal defenses on your house? It's not just for your ex, is it?" Hermione turned toward him, about to lecture, when she saw the smile he wielded. She relaxed.
"No, not him. But there are followers of Voldemort who are still out there, and still angry. Harry and Ginny moved out of the country to escape it."
She looked at Lucifer.
This tall, dark, and very handsome man was in her house. She blushed.
"Um, I'm going to bring my supplies to my workshop, downstairs" she pointed down. "I'll get the tea started after that."
"Sure," Lucifer nodded.
Hermione came up to see the kettle on the stove, and Lucifer was getting some items from the fridge, to put together sandwiches.
"Thought I could get us a head start."
She smiled. She put a hand on his bicep as she leaned around him to the cupboard, to get plates.
They worked together, talking about nothing important. When they reached the topic of mustard vs. mayonnaise, they had sandwiches and a pot of tea. They sat down and started to tuck in, when Hermione stopped.
"You know what we need?"
"Crisps?" Lucifer offered.
"Exactly."
Lucifer went to stand, when she motioned for him to stay seated.
After accio crisps proved fruitful, they enjoyed their second meal of the day. They finished and stayed at the small kitchen table. Hermione looked at her hand in Lucifer's. She thought it funny, she didn't remember them picking up each other's hands again, but she didn't seem to mind it.
"Can I ask a bit of a random question?" Lucifer interrupted the quiet, his gaze stayed on their joined hands.
"Please do." She too was focused on their hands, intertwined and slowly stroking the other's, learning their touch.
"If witches and wizards can apparate and accio all over the place, how come there aren't more fat magical people?"
Hermione laughed, not at him, he sensed as much, too. She looked up at him, they smiled at one another.
"Well, it takes energy for us to perform spells, and to use magic, some of it is internal to the person, but some of it is just old-fashioned calories."
"So, what's the difference between using magic and casting spells?"
"Well, I can give you all the ingredients for a potion, but it won't work, not if the person making isn't magical."
"So, I can't make magic potions." Lucifer pretended to be wounded.
"I'm not actually sure about you." She paused, turning fully toward him, looked him up and down. "You're not a muggle."
"Agreed."
"What's the word for angels and other . . . " Hermione was looking for the word, her hand waving in the air, like it was helping in her search.
"Celestial," Lucifer answered helpfully.
"Thank you."
Buzzing interrupted the conversation.
Lucifer left his one hand in hers, and used the other to get his mobile phone from his suit jacket's inside pocket. Hermione checked her own phone, to see it was nearly 9 at night.
"Do you need to get back to someone?" Hermione asked, regret heavy in her voice.
"It's Maze, she's making sure I'm not drunk in a gutter in Dubai or something."
"Ah." Hermione remembered the name from their earlier conversation, and that she worked for Lucifer, and was a demon.
Lucifer took the call, but never left his spot at the table.
"Yes Maze . . . no . . . no . . . England . . . no . . . yes . . . she's not like that . . . I mean she's lovely and not paid to be here . . . Yes, willingly . . . I am both handsome and charming! . . . no, you cannot speak to her . . . goodbye." And then he hung up.
"Sorry about that, it's just Maze."
"I have friends like that, too."
And as if on cue, Harry and Ginny's voice could be heard from the living room.
"Excuse me a second." Hermione let go of Lucifer's hand to attend to the floo call in the other room.
"We saw The Prophet, are you okay? Do you want us to come over?" Ginny's disembodied head projected, barely breathing, rushing to soothe her friend.
"Hi, 'Mione," Harry snuck in while Ginny paused.
"Hi! I'm okay. You don't have to come over." Hermione rushed to get her response in, before her friends could step through the floo.
"You shouldn't be alone through all this!" Ginny protested.
Hermione paused just a second, trying to figure out how to phrase her response.
"She's not alone," Lucifer stood in the doorway behind Hermione, his tall, dark frame imposing, filing the doorway.
Even in floo-form, Ginny's open mouth was clear.
"We'll let you go," Harry offered. "Ginny, say goodbye."
"Cheers," Lucifer replied.
Harry had to bodily pull Ginny from the floo.
Hermione dropped to the floor.
"I feel drunk," she confessed. "What is this?" She sat, staring up at Lucifer, who had remained in the doorway.
"Honestly, I don't know. But I feel the same way."
"Can I ask a question, and please answer honestly: have you experienced this before? With Chloe? Or Eve?"
"Hermione," he said as he sat on the floor. Hermione worried for a second about his expensive suit creasing.
He faced her on the floor, but didn't reach out to her, keeping the two of them very separate, intentionally.
Lucifer started again.
"Hermione, two things, and the first is very important, and I need you to remember it: I never lie. I may have to withhold something from you, theoretically, but I do not lie." He paused to make sure she understood. When he believed she understood, he continued.
"But as for this," he didn't gesture here, afraid he'd find his hands in hers again, out of his conscious control. "I've never experienced it before. This is new. And unique. To you."
Hermione felt a heat radiating from him. She was about to ask him to spend the night.
"Can I see you again tomorrow? I don't know what you're doing, or if you have to work, but I'd like to see you again." Lucifer rushed to say, with a lot less chill than he usually possessed.
"Yes," her response was far huskier, and sexier, than she knew how to do consciously. In response to this, Lucifer's hands ignited in flame, apparently against his will, because he immediately extinguished the flames.
"Tomorrow then. Goodnight." He got up and left, not risking the attempt to kiss her goodnight - could he stop there? Would he combust again?
When she heard the door latch, Hermione collapsed the rest of the way to the floor, lying back, looking at the ceiling.
"Seducing the Devil?" She asked out loud, admonishing her own bravado.
Hermione scrubbed her face with her hands before getting up. She went to one of the bookshelves in the room to grab some arithmancy books. If she wasn't going to be able to sleep, she was going to try and find some answers.