The Fruitcake

Lucia drummed her fingers on her notebook. Sighing, she looked around. It was still early morning. Her father, a very busy and prominent man, as Lucia would assure you, had needed to get to work early that day. So, here she was. Platform 9 ¾. At 7:17. Ready to go to Hogwarts for the sixth time. There were already a few of her fellow Slytherins there. If she could call them her fellows indeed. "Curse it," she muttered to herself upon realising that thus far, the only students who had arrived were only Slytherins. She would much have preferred if a large Basilisk would wipe out the entire Slytherin population. exempting herself, of course. Especially that Malfoy boy, she thought. Ooh, I can't stand him-" "Hello, Lucia," came a slow, tedious drawl from across the platform. Malfoy stood there, with a house-elf carting his luggage. "Go," he barked to the elf, who quickly bowed and ran away. "Hello, Draco," Lucia said with a sigh, pretending to be consumed, reading one of her stories from her notebook. Malfoy came forward and leaned over, trying to read over her shoulder. She snapped the book shut. Draco straightened, trying to appear disinterested and continued. "So, one of our Chasers is out. graduated last year. I think I'm going to be team captain. At least, father talked to Madame Hooch at the end of last year. I must say, she was rather impressed at my progress," he said with an air of importance. Steering back to his main incentive, he added, "and I hope to see you as a Chaser. We need some good, swift players. No," he said, laughing haughtily, "as a matter of fact, we don't need anyone, we're the best team. All we truly need is just someone to unseat Potter from his high and mighty throne. Show him that he's not invincible. You know. With the line of business you're in-" "Look, if you want me to do that, then I won't try out. I'm a good enough figure flyer, thank you very much. I, don't cheat. If the 'business' you are talking about is the filibuster fireworks I put in your shampoo, that's entirely different, and for a much more worthy cause. And I, unlike other Slytherins, which I will leave unnamed," she said, referring to Crabbe and Goyle, who had just walked through the wall, "don't pride myself on picking fights and popping pimples." Malfoy scrunched up his nose, not caring to acknowledge the two dark figures of his friends looming up behind him. "My, aren't we uppity today," he said, with a cold smile. "Yes," Lucia said calmly, getting up from her seat on the bench and taking her luggage with her. "Need a hand?" Malfoy called as Lucia passed him. "No, I've got it, thank you." She said coolly. "But the train hasn't even-" billows of some, a loud whistle, and a flash of red testified that the Hogwarts Express had come. "-arrived," Malfoy completed his sentence, moments too late. Lucia gave a sarcastic smile and nod, rolling her eyes once Malfoy wasn't looking, and got on board. Once Lucia had lifted her heavy trunk into the overhead, she got out her Muggle books: The Three Musketeers and The Scarlet Pimpernel and sat down to read. Some Hufflepuf second years came in, screaming and squealing, as Lucia knew well enough all Hufflepuffs did. "Give me my hat back!" one of them, a freckled girl said to the other, who was holding a black, witch's hat just out of her reach. The boy stuck out his tongue. "Slaaaaaaaaaaaade! You're so mean!" whined the girl. Lucia got up, grumbling strong oaths of "toad's toes" and "confusticate this rukket," walked indifferently to the boy. The hat was at eye level. Snatching it away from Slade and handed it to the girl with a low, gentlemanly bow. "M'lady, your hat," she said, with a slight smile. The girl giggled and accepted the hat with a flush. Slade didn't look too happy to have his fun spoiled so soon, but grabbed his friend and ran out of the compartment. "Thank you!" the girl called back, breaking free from Slade's grip on her arm. "At your service, Mademoiselle!" she called in a staunch accent. She noticed some Gryffindors out on the platform looking at her; she shrugged it off. She loved acting like her favorite characters from books, especially the two books that were back on her seat. She thought with relish of returning to read them, for the 100th time over, when she noticed that the boy looking at her was none other than. Harry Potter.

She gave a wry smile and sauntered out to meet him. "Hullo. Don't believe I know your name," she said, looking at Harry. This, of course, was a lie. She knew very well who Harry was, but she was not about to give him the impression that he held a special place in her memory because of that one night when Voldemort made a silly mistake. She looked to Ron. "'Lo Ron." Ron looked at her, puzzled. He saw her Slytherin badge and looked at her again, this time more warily. "You don't turn into stone when you look at us," she told him. "Huh?" Ron asked. "Huh?" Lucia said in an uncanny imitation of Ron. Harry hid a smile. "We. Slytherins, don't have the Medusa effect. You're looking as though you'd rather not look, but can't avoid it. You won't turn into stone, I promise. I just know who you are a'cause of Fred and George."

"Oh." Ron said, a faint recollection coming to his mind now. "You're. Lucia? You trade passwords with them, right? Half the teachers complain about you. Lucia gave a pleased smile, clearly under the belief that it had been a compliment. "But the other half can't. They're simply awed by my genius." She turned to Harry. "So, what is it. Henry?" "Harry." "That's what I said. Harry is, after all, simply a domestication for Henry. Like Jack is for John. Elsie for Elsinore, though that one is not too common. I have an aunt by that name, though. We all call her Els, though, because all her friends did when she went to Hogwarts. She was in Gryffindor, you know. Not that I blame her for it." She grinned roguishly. "Lud, it's not our fault we end up in the houses we're in." "Lud?" Ron asked, quizzically. "What? Oh, I suppose that might sound slightly odd to you. It's something a character in one of my books says. Well, not *my* books, but. well, anyways, they're called the Scarlet Pimpernel. He's positively spiff," she said, looking away distantly, as though daydreaming romantically. "Anyways, just wanted to say, Harold, that I hope you do well in Quid this year. I've just joined the Slytherin team, so you're bound to have some difficulty. famous or no." She waved them a fond farewell and clambered on board the train once more.