Chapter 573: Ch 599 - Dating Advice from Hermione

It was after Dinner when Lucifer and Hermione walked back into Gryffindor Tower. She had remained at the secret staircase that led up to the ’Fifth Floor’ for much longer than she originally expected to.

No one had bothered them during their retreat, but a few wandering castle ghosts did float casually by the stone landing, unaware of or even concerned with Lucifer and Hermione’s close presence. He felt significantly better after getting all of that tightly bottled-up weight out into the open, and it was even better that she was right there to hear it.

The both of them had kissed for a few lingering seconds on the step after deciding to return to Common room, given how late it had gotten.

Upon walking through the portrait hole, Angelina Johnson immediately hurried over to his side. "Lucifer, thank you so much for your efforts to have Crabbe get punishment today... Professor McGonagall caught on to what you were trying to do... I’m sorry it didn’t work in your favor but at least an equal level of punishment was handed out."

"Yeah, about that..." he said quietly, his tone flat and unreadable.

"No, it’s okay... you tried your best under the circumstances," Angelina smiled sadly, her shoulders slumping. "But since Harry is banned from the sky—"

"I know... I’m going to step up to be the Main starting Seeker now," Lucifer sighed, running a long hand over the back of his neck. He was actually planning to pay a healthy visit to the Hospital Wing tomorrow morning, purely concerned about Draco’s health and a fellow classmate’s safety. "Well, I’ll try to end the upcoming house matches quickly enough so that Gryffindor still has a solid shot at winning the Quidditch Cup. Because whoever you manage to secure as replacement beaters tomorrow won’t be anywhere near Fred and George’s standard... Don’t worry, I will see what I can do to handle the twins’ situation."

"You mean..." Angelina went quiet for a brief moment, her eyes widening. She didn’t dare to openly hope for any genuine goodness or luck against a Ministry decree, but still, her posture relaxed. "I think... I think I’m just gonna head straight to bed..." She tried to let out a small laugh, but the sound came out dry, hollow, and forced. "Maybe when I wake up tomorrow morning, it’ll all just be a terrible nightmare and we won’t have even played the Slytherin match yet..."

She slumped up the girls’ circular staircase, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet trailing not far behind her.

Lucifer turned around and noticed that a Golden Snitch was loose in the Common Room, zipping around the armchairs frantically while Crookshanks hopped wildly from surface to surface in desperation to catch the elusive ball.

"Maybe if Crookshanks catches the wings, he can apply to be our Main Seeker?" He tried to joke dryly, but just shook his head at his own foolishness. "I’m going to head up to bed too. I’m exhausted from... well, Hermione knows what," he said, turning his dark eyes to Harry, who gave the bushy-haired girl a knowing look and then grinned broadly.

"I promise you, Harry, it’s not what you think it is," She said quickly, blushing a vibrant pink as she sat down defensively next to him on the rug. "Night, Lucifer."

"Night, Hermione," he said smoothly. Then turned on his heel and walked straight up the stone stairs to bed. Lucifer fell into sleep not long after his head hit the plush pillow.

A brief while later, Harry Potter leaned over the armchair, staring blankly at the fireplace. "So, uh, Hermione? Can you give me some practical advice on dating? I know you are very experienced with Lucifer and all...."

She slammed her own palm against her forehead with a heavy groan.

xxxxxx

Lucifer awoke the following morning feeling the opposite of well-rested. He still forced himself awake and stepped out of bed, finding to not be the very first person out of the dormitory this morning. It would seem Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas had already gotten up before his clock. It wasn’t a big deal to plans, just a minor environmental observation.

He descended the stairs into the grand circular Common Room, which was empty at this early hour.

With a subtle flick of his bare fingers, a thick book floated out from inside his enchanted robe pouch and landed onto the wooden table, the pages automatically turning to the very first Chapter:

’Classroom of the Elite, Volume 10’

Since it was a free Sunday, he could easily spend the day reading without any outside interruption. He was about halfway through Chapter Three when Hermione came down the girls’ steps, her being the next person inside the tower beside him.

"Morning," she said softly, walking over and sitting down directly across from his table. But when he looked up from the print, noticed she was already dressed to go outside into the freezing wind.

"Morning, pet. Are you heading out somewhere?" Lucifer asked, his eyes stopping their faint red glow to talk to her normally.

"Yes, Hagrid came back to the grounds yesterday evening," She quickly recounted in a tight whisper, laying out all that Hagrid had told them by his hearth, including disturbing detail that Umbridge had already shown up at his door to threaten him.

"So you’re going down to see him again this morning to try and get a proper plan for his O.W.L. curriculum before she audits him?" he asked her.

"I’m going to try my best, yes," Hermione said, standing up and tightening her thick wool scarf around her neck.

"I don’t see you succeeding in that endeavor, love, given that it’s Hagrid we’re dealing with... but I wish you the best of luck," Lucifer said smoothly, turning his face back down to the text.

She then left through the portrait hole. Harry and Ron came down about an hour later to head straight down to the Great Hall for breakfast, returning to common room afterward to begin working on their piling-up homework assignments.

They didn’t bother to ask Lucifer for any academic help today, as he had skipped breakfast entirely to finish his reading. Though it may have had something to do with the fact that he was currently flipping through pages of his book without using his hands, and they figured he would hex them if his focus was disturbed.

After coming to a good stopping point in the text, Lucifer stood up, slid the volume back into his pouch, and calmly went down to the Hospital Wing.

Draco Malfoy had been sent straight there by his Slytherin teammates after the Quidditch match because his face had been beaten so badly by Harry and George’s fists.

When he cleared the doors, Draco was leaning back comfortably against the hospital pillows, happily eating a pile of sweets he’d bought from Honeydukes. His face had returned to normal, looking no different than before the fight.

The moment Fred and George walked in through the entrance, Malfoy quickly tossed aside the ’Pepper Imp’ he was holding, put on an uncomfortably pained, dramatic expression, and lay back against the mattress, letting out a weak grunt.

"What are you two doing here?" he snapped, his voice sharp. Beside his bed, Pansy Parkinson instantly sprang to her feet and shrieked loudly, "Get out! If you’re here to beg for his forgiveness, you can forget it right now!"

"Oh, Fred..." George Weasley raised an eyebrow, adjusting his robes. "Did you hear a strange sound just now? It’s really unpleasant to my ears."

"I think it must be a pair of wild Tebo warthogs," Fred replied with a grin. "That’s what they sound like, completely disgusting."

Pansy’s face twisted with a violent fury at their banter, her expression turning even meaner. But before she could open her mouth to retaliate, Fred shouted loudly toward the back room, "Madam Pomfrey! Lee Jordan has been vomiting down in the tower, and we don’t know what’s wrong with his stomach!"

At once, Madam Pomfrey bustled out of her private office, moving briskly into the ward. "What on earth has happened to the boy? Has he got a bad case of winter stomach flu?"

"We’re not sure, ma’am," George said, shaking his head with a serious expression. "He refuses to come down to the Hospital Wing himself. Could you please come check on him?"

"Not come to the Hospital Wing when he’s ill?! Ridiculous, nonsense!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed angrily, her jaw tightening. "He hasn’t been drinking anything suspicious from the Hog’s Head, has he? I’ve always said that shady place shouldn’t be anywhere near a school! And neither should you lot!"

Despite her loud grumbling, she rapidly grabbed two glass bottles of potion from a nearby shelf and hurried out into the corridor. Fred followed close behind her heels. "He’s currently in the Gryffindor common room, ma’am. I’ll take you there directly, Madam Pomfrey."

George lingered behind for a split second, casting a long glance back at Lucifer. His expression hesitated as if he wanted to say something about the bans, but the younger boy gave a slight, commanding shake of his head.

He let out a heavy sigh, then turned on his heel and jogged after Fred to clear the room.

Once they were gone, only three people remained inside the quiet Hospital Wing: Lucifer, Pansy, and Malfoy, who lay stiffly in his bed.

Draco seemed uneasy, watching the tall Gryffindor approach with a terrified look that perfectly mirrored the way Harry sometimes looked at Snape during a bad class.

"Why are you still standing here, Morningstar?" Pansy snapped, striding over to intercept the black-haired boy. "Go tell your nasty friends that they---"

’Plop.’

Before she could finish her sentence, her eyes glazed over, and she suddenly slumped forward, falling fast asleep against the wooden table.

"Looks like she really has been taking care of you with all her heart, Malfoy," Lucifer said lightly, a slow, wicked smile tugging at his lips as he stepped past her body. "She must be exhausted from the stress."

Malfoy’s eyes widened in absolute horror. He was certain Morningstar had manually caused Pansy’s sudden state with a non-verbal jinx, but he didn’t dare voice his accusation aloud. As Lucifer began to slowly approach the edge of his bed, Draco’s fear spiked sharply.

He vividly recalled his father’s strict warnings during the summer holidays, and his internal anxiety reached its peak.

"What... what do you want from me?" Draco stammered, his voice trembling violently as he clutched his blankets. "This is Hogwarts... Dumbledore is still here... If you dare do anything to me... you won’t get away with it!"

"Oh, so you actually know Professor Dumbledore now? I thought you only knew Umbridge," Lucifer said, his tone perfectly casual as he walked over to the chair where Pansy had been sitting. He picked up a fresh box of ’Chocolate Frogs’ from the nearby pile of sweets and helped himself. "You know what?" He said as he slowly unwrapped the chocolate with his long fingers. "Your father caused my girlfriend quite a bit of trouble and humiliation two years ago with that Buckbeak incident. And yet, I forgave his actions magnanimously. Since this term started, Malfoy, have I caused you a shred of trouble?"

"I—I had nothing to do with that!" Draco stammered, his voice unsteady as he shrank back against the pillows. "It was Professor Umbridge’s decree... Really... She wanted to teach Weasley brothers and Potter a lesson... because they wouldn’t listen to her."

"But you were more than happy to cooperate with her plan, weren’t you?"

"I—I can easily forgive them for the fight," he blurted out, desperately not wanting to antagonize Morningstar in the slightest. He knew their public fights had gone past a dangerous point he hadn’t realized when. "I’ll plead directly with Professor Umbridge today..."

"Forgive who?"

"The Weasley brothers," Malfoy said quickly, his hands shaking. "They... they can continue playing their Quidditch matches..."

"See? I told the team you were a reasonable classmate," Lucifer said with a warm smile, holding out the Chocolate Frog he’d just unwrapped.

Draco hesitated at first, staring at the candy. But when the Gryffindor’s dark brows frowned just a tiny fraction, he hastily grabbed the treat with trembling hands. He knew very well what had undergone during the Quidditch World Cup camp. That knowledge alone made Malfoy desperate to avoid his wrath.

His father had warned him repeatedly before the term began: ’Stay away from Morningstar, as far away as humanly possible.’

"I w—wont pursue the matter any further with the Inquisitor," he muttered, his voice trembling.

"On behalf of Fred, George, and Harry, I thank you for your immense generosity," Lucifer replied with a faint, mocking smile.

Malfoy exhaled a small sigh of relief, but the comfort was incredibly short-lived.

The next moment, Lucifer added coldly, "Unfortunately, you don’t have the final say in this matter, Draco. Professor Umbridge requires Mr. Lucius Malfoy not to pursue either before she lifts the decree."

"I—I can convince my father in a letter," Malfoy stammered.

"Ah, no doubt about that," Lucifer said lightly, his eyes flashing. "But there’s no need for you to go to all that trouble." He reached deep into his pocket and pulled out a pre-written letter, holding it out for Draco to see. "Just sign this page. I’m sure Mr. Lucius will recognize your handwriting."

Draco hesitated before glancing down at the parchment. The letter read,

’Dear Mr. Malfoy,

Since we last met at the World Cup, I’ve been meaning to express my gratitude to you, but my studies have kept me too busy to find the time.

The reason for this letter is a minor altercation during the Quidditch match involving your son, Draco, and my friends, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, and Harry Potter.

Here’s what happened...’

Below, the letter recounted the events of the Quidditch match in detail, describing the incident as it had occurred. Malfoy scanned the parchment, noting that everything written was accurate, nothing had been altered.

’In conclusion, I would like to note that both parties share responsibility for the incident, and I believe the punishment of banning the Weasley brothers and Harry from playing Quidditch is overly harsh.

(P.S. Draco has already generously forgiven them.)’

The tone was polite and sincere, resembling a perfectly normal letter.

Draco, with his fingers trembling, did as he was told, scrawling his name in a crooked, jagged script across the bottom of the parchment. The second the final stroke was inked, Lucifer swept the parchment and the silver quill back into his grip. He rolled the page loosely, eyeing the petrified blonde boy with a clarity, "So," he murmured, his tone dropping into a daily conversation, "Is there anything inherently wrong with contents of this letter, Malfoy?"

"No, no," Draco said quickly, his head shaking violently as he clutched his silk blankets closer to his chest. "It’s all true, everything that’s written right there."

"Then why are your hands shaking so badly?" Lucifer asked with a low chuckle, tapping the rolled parchment against his palm. "If an outsider walked into this ward and saw your face, they’d think I was some kind of cruel, evil dark wizard forcing a confession. But as you can see, I am only here to have civil reason with you."

"Yes, yes, of course," Draco nodded vigorously, his voice cracking under the mounting psychological pressure. "I was just... I was just a little cold in here."

"Ah, I see." Lucifer gave his bare hand a subtle, elegant flick toward the stone fireplace tucked in the far corner of the ward.

With a sudden ’whoosh,’ the cold hearth roared to life with magnificent crimson flames, warming the entire medical room within a fraction of a second. "You’re very welcome, Draco. It’s nothing."

He straightened his posture, stepping back from the mattress as if preparing to leave the room, but he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh, I almost forgot," he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Tipsy!"

With a sharp, echoing ’pop,’ a small, large-eyed House-elf materialized right in the center of the floorboards, carefully holding a large, heavy brass camera. Before Draco could even blink or voice objection, a bright, blinding flash illuminated the ward, Tipsy had snapped a pristine, photograph of the two boys standing by the bedside.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Malfoy shouted, his voice cracking in alarm as he shielded his eyes.

"Relax, Malfoy. It’s just a quick, quality photo for your father that I came to pay you a healthy, supportive visit," Lucifer said nonchalantly, his expression perfectly unbothered. He turned his face down to look at the girlish House-elf, his eyes softening. "Thank you for the assistance, Tipsy."

The small House-elf beamed with a pure, ecstatic joy at Lucifer’s smooth praise, her long, bat-like ears turning a bright, blushing red against her skin. "It is Tipsy’s honor to help you, sir!"

"Don’t mention it." He waved a dismissive hand, reaching into his enchanted robe pouch to grab a handful of expensive Honeydukes sweets, thrusting straight into her tiny palms. "Take these as a small thank-you for your loyalty. Share the batch with Dobby and your other friends down in the kitchens."

She hesitated for a second, her eyes widening, but Lucifer ignored her domestic reluctance, manually stuffing the colorful wrappers directly into the folds of the elf’s clean tea towel. This unexpected generosity made Tipsy even more profoundly elated; she began hopping wildly in place with excitement. "You can return to your regular duties now, Tipsy. But stay ready, I may require your photographic help again very soon."

"Tipsy is always ready to help you, sir!" the House-elf cried out happily before vanishing into thin air with a sharp ’pop.’

Lucifer turned towards the exit, but when his boots reached the heavy threshold of the doorway, he paused over his shoulder one last time. "Oh, one more thing," he said smoothly. "Remind your girlfriend there Madam Pomfrey doesn’t allow students to sleep on the floor."

This time, Malfoy clearly saw the boy’s fingers twitch with a faint trace of non-verbal magic. Almost immediately, Pansy Parkinson stirred against her table, letting out a heavy groan as she slowly got back to her feet, rubbing her temples. "What just happened to me?" she asked groggily, blinking through her exhaustion as she glanced at the platinum-blonde boy and then at Morningstar’s retreating figure down the hall. "What did that arrogant guy just say to you?"

Draco let out a ragged sigh of pure physical relief when Lucifer’s shadow left the room, didn’t even bother to look at her face. "Oh, nothing... he just said no sleeping on the floor."

After leaving the Hospital Wing behind, Lucifer marched straight up the winding stone stairs to the castle owlery, carrying the signed letter and the newly developed, magical photograph in his pouch. The entire trek took a matter of a few short minutes.

He knew very well that his own owl, Rowena, was so distinctive that he worried Lucius Malfoy might simply recognize her breed and drive her away from the Manor to avoid any direct association with his vault.

It seemed wiser to choose a common, ordinary school bird for this specific delivery.

Surveying the crowded, circular stone room, Lucifer quickly picked out a sleek, unbothered tawny barn owl, stepping over to tie the gold-sealed envelope securely to its left leg.

"Thank you for your assistance," he said softly, smoothing its feathers. The tawny owl gave a small, intelligent nod of its head, spread its wings, and soared straight out of the stone window into freezing November sky.

Just as he turned his heel to leave the room, a familiar pair of incredibly sharp, fierce eyes fixed onto his profile from a higher perch. He let out a long, dry sigh inwardly, realizing he had hit a domestic snag.

"Ah, Rowena... there you are, girl. Honestly, I couldn’t seem to find your perch anywhere earlier..." Lucifer began dryly, trying to smooth over his betrayal. "Actually, um... this isn’t an important errand at all. I thought you didn’t need to trouble yours—"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Rowena’s feathers flared out violently like an overinflated, furious Quaffle. Completely ignoring her owner’s attempts to explain the logistics, she puffed her chest up in pure fury, clicked her sharp beak in deep irritation, and took off from her perch with an angry, echoing flap of her powerful wings, blasting wind into his face as she flew out the casement.

"I really should have come up here when she was out hunting," he muttered under his breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He was just about to head out the door after her when a sudden, loud, angry shout echoed from the stone path right outside the owlery stairs.

"Get away from me... you sky beast, get away from my face!"

Lucifer instantly quickened his pace, stepping out into the brisk wind to investigate the commotion. Outside the owlery tower, Argus Filch stood struggling wildly, brandishing a long wooden stick fitted with a sharp iron hook at the very end.

Above his balding head, two powerful owls were circling in a tight, predatory loop. One was Rowena, still absolutely fuming from her owner’s slight, who was repeatedly swooping down at Filch’s face, battering his shoulders with her powerful wings.

Each sharp strike sent the caretaker staggering backward against the stone wall, his lantern rattling.

Beside Rowena hovered a familiar white snowy owl, clearly thoroughly angered and eager to take revenge for her previous injuries.

"Hedwig?" Lucifer called out, his deep voice cutting through the wind.

The white owl immediately broke away from the aerial assault, letting out a sharp hoot as she fluttered down to land perfectly onto Lucifer’s right shoulder. Up close, his eyes scanned her plumage; she was recovering remarkably well under Grubbly-Plank’s care. Her left wing, specifically, had healed beautifully, leaving no wonder why she had come back up here looking for blood.

"Rowena, hold on. Sit," he called over, his voice commanding.

Whether because she was simply getting tired of the caretaker or because Lucifer’s voice reached her instincts, she abruptly stopped her assault, flared her wings, and flew to perch regally on a high branch of a nearby oak tree, her amber eyes still glaring down at the path.

Filch, panting heavily and disheveled, his coat torn, angrily hurled his wooden hook-stick at the tree. But with a subtle wave of Lucifer’s bare fingers, the weapon curved in mid-air, landing neatly and firmly right in the boy’s outstretched palm. A single, pristine white owl feather was stuck tightly to the iron hook at its end.

Lucifer’s expression turned ice-cold as he held up the weapon. "Filch... are you attempting to intercept and copy the students’ private letters?"

"This is a routine, authorized safety inspection!" Filch growled, his face twisting in a bitter sneer as he wiped his brow. "Hand that stick back over to me right now, Morningstar, or I’ll personally see to it that—"

’Snap!’

With an effortless twist of his hands, Lucifer tossed the wooden stick to the ground and crushed the iron under his boot, breaking the weapon cleanly in two pieces. Beside his cheek, Hedwig let out a loud, triumphant, and mocking hoot at the destruction.

"A safety inspection?" Lucifer asked, his voice dangerous, as he stepped closer to the caretaker. "How funny, Filch. I don’t recall the Hogwarts ever allowing inspections to be done with a blood-stained hook."

Filch instinctively recoiled a full pace at the sudden aggression radiating from the tall Gryffindor, his pale face turning a sickly, translucent shade of green. But he quickly stiffened his posture, trying to lean on his new alliance. "This procedure is explicitly authorized by High Inquisitor Umbridge herself! I am only following legal Ministry orders, boy!"

"Nonsense." Lucifer’s dark gaze hardened into a lethal glare that made the caretaker’s breath catch in his throat. "Intercepting private post without an individual warrant signed by the Wizengamot violates ’International Wizarding Law,’ Filch. Are you honestly trying to suggest right now that Professor Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic himself, authorized an illegal, criminal activity inside this school? Don’t you dare slander her Ministry name with your incompetence."

Filch’s face paled from green to a stark, ghostly white. He knew full well how unlawful his daily mail opening actions were under the old laws, but he had never expected to be so blatantly challenged on the facts by a student.

Before the terrified caretaker could even stammer out a single line of defense, Lucifer dismissed his presence outright with a cold wave of his hand. "I’ll be reporting this severe overreach directly to Professor’s desk myself later today," he said firmly.

With that threat hanging in the frosty air, he turned on his heel and walked away down the stone path back toward the courtyard, Hedwig still perched proudly on his shoulder. Halfway back to the castle doors, the white owl let out a soft, affectionate hoot against his cheek and flew off into the wind toward the Gryffindor Tower, presumably to locate Harry and demand some well-deserved treats for her victory.

Watching her white silhouette glide toward the roof, Lucifer ran a hand through his hair, deciding he would head straight up to his shared dormitory to fetch some concentrated owl tonic for the boy’s companion to ensure her wings remained in peak condition for the winter.

xxxxxxx

It was just before lunch when Hermione finally came back to the Gryffindor Tower, having spent the entire morning freezing down at Hagrid’s cabin.

"Well, I tried..." she said dully, sinking heavily into the right side of the velvet couch Lucifer was currently lounging on.

Hermione then pulled her wand out of her robes and gave it a complicated little wave through the air. A sudden, focused burst of warm steam hissed from the wooden tip. She pointed the vapor directly at her uniform, drying her damp robes, shoes, and thick wool socks slowly as she held the spell steady.

"He wasn’t even inside the cabin when I first arrived, Lucifer... I was knocking for at least half an hour. And then, he suddenly came walking out of the Forbidden Forest, leaving long tracks in the fresh snow....."

Harry let out a low groan from his armchair. The Forbidden Forest was universally known for keeping highly dangerous, illegal creatures hidden within its borders, that High Inquisitor Umbridge was guaranteed to disapprove of under Ministry guidelines. "What is he keeping hidden in those trees? Did he actually say?" he asked her, leaning forward.

"No..." Hermione said with a sharp huff of frustration, her shoulders dropping. "He just stubbornly says he wants the lesson to be a surprise for the fifth-years. I tried my best to explain the decrees and Umbridge’s history, but he just doesn’t get the danger. He told me that nobody in their right mind would rather study harmless Knarls than glorious Chimeras... oh, but I doubt he seriously has any hidden in there!"

She added the correction when she caught the terrified, wide-eyed looks breaking across Harry’s and Ron’s faces. "But apparently, it’s not for a total lack of trying on his part. He told me Chimera eggs are incredibly rare and expensive on the black market... I don’t even know how many times I told him that he’d be miles better off following Professor Grubbly-Plank’s safe lesson plan, but he wasn’t listening to a word of reason... he’s in a bit of a funny, defensive mood, you know? And he still won’t tell me how he actually sustained those horrific injuries..."

"So long as the man doesn’t try to show our class an adult Manticore after the rogue one we encountered during our first year, I have zero desire to ever see one again," Lucifer said smoothly, his eyes never leaving his pages as he pondered Hagrid’s physiological condition.

According to his girlfriend’s eyewitness description, the half-giant was currently in dreadful physical shape; dark, congealed red clots of blood clung heavily to his matted beard and hair, both of his eyes were swollen nearly shut with thick bruising, his chin was still actively oozing fluid, and two front teeth were clearly missing from his jaw. It was as if he’d been violently pounded straight into the rocky ground and then mercilessly pummeled some more for good measure.

Lucifer could already accurately guess what secret mission he and Madame Maxime had been busy executing on behalf of Dumbledore up in the mountains with the Giants.

For the remainder of the quiet Sunday, he simply continued his focused reading of light novel volumes.

Hermione leaned close against his arm, peeking over his shoulder from time to time at the questionable, too much skin revealing illustrations with a deeply suspicious, narrowing brow.

xxxxx

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