Harry didn't know what he was expecting when he realized that he and Lucy were left alone, unsupervised in Diagon Alley. A lot of trouble, perhaps. Maybe some grand pranks and adventures, enough chaos to last the pair of them a lifetime— but as he soon realized, Lucy in the sunshine was not unlike that of a lounging cat.
Lucy knew her friend was a bit surprised that she wasn't going off the rails. She simply didn't see the need to. In Diagon Alley, there were no rules. They could use magic freely, and there was enough chaos going on already that she didn't feel the urge to contribute. She noticed that when she and Harry were left to their own devices, they tended to be quite peaceful, actually.
Every morning, she stumbled into the Leaky Cauldron where she and Harry would eat breakfast together. Harry observed the different types of guests as Lucy made up stories for each and every one of them.
"That one was a victim of a bear attack." Lucy pointed to a man sitting at Tom's bar. He was rather ordinary looking, with light blonde hair and an aged face. In fact, he was probably the most normal one inside the Leaky Cauldron at the moment. "He escaped within an inch of his life, but knowing that he killed an animal will haunt him forever."
Harry blinked. "I don't know about that one, Luce." Most of her stories at the very least made sense.
"I'm telling you! Look at the scrapes on his neck. Bear attack. If it's not a bear, it's a magic bear."
"The scrapes on his neck could be from anything," Harry said, rolling his eyes.
She raised her eyebrows at him, leaning back in her seat. Was that a challenge? She wasn't sure if the man had been attacked by a bear after all, but now her honor was on the line. She could not let this horrible offense pass by.
She cupped her hands around her mouth and called over the raucous chatter of the pub: "HEY! BLONDE MAN!"
The man whirled around, and so did everyone else who heard Lucy's loud shout. Harry wanted to evaporate on the spot.
"Uh... yes?" the man said hesitantly.
She continued just as loudly, even though she didn't have to. "HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ATTACKED BY A BEAR?"
He was beginning to get scared now. "No... I haven't..."
Harry gave her a see? Sort of look. She frowned. She didn't know what she was expecting. In any case, she was not going to leave defeated.
"Well, you're about to. ACCIO BEAR—"
"ALRIGHT, I think it's time we leave!" Harry grabbed her wand arm and pulled her out of the Leaky Cauldron. Tom the Innkeeper shot him an extremely relieved glance, while the man looked appropriately mortified. Harry's face was about as red as his flannel as they walked through the busy Diagon Alley streets. "I hate you," he informed her.
She snickered at his dismayed expression. "No, you don't."
"A moment ago I was thinking about how peaceful Diagon Alley was with you. Now you've ruined it all, Lucy."
"Have you ever considered you're the one who jinxed it?"
"Have you ever considered you're a raving madman?"
They continued bickering all the way to Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor. Along the way, Grimm caught up with the pair of them. Her dog's presence had been spotty for a while but now that Harry joined her in Diagon Alley, the three of them were inseparable. Grimm held a huge amount of their impulse control. There were many times she and Harry tried to sneak into Knockturn Alley to cause trouble— more often at Lucy's suggestion than not— but the dog herded them away, making grumbling noises to himself the entire time. Amused, they gave up and stayed in Diagon Alley now.
Florean's ice cream parlor was one of their usual stops. Lucy didn't believe in perfection, nor did the idea appeal to her— but if there was one perfect being in existence, she'd have to grant that title to Florean Fortescue. The man didn't have a mean bone in his body. Not only did he make the greatest ice cream of all time, but he also gave them fresh scoops every half hour, free of charge.
She stopped mid-sentence in her argument with Harry to point at Florean. "I'd die for you," she informed him with the utmost seriousness.
He smiled bemusedly back at her. "Thank you, Lucy. I always appreciate your compliments... even if they sound quite fervent at times." She nodded at him. "So what'll it be today, kids? The usual?"
"Yes, please," Harry said. He fished a few coins out of his bag and before Lucy could protest, he paid for the pair of them. She scowled at him, and he replied with a sickly sweet smile. "Only one of us has got a family vault to fall back on, Lucy."
"Only one of us has got a job, Harry."
"I have a job. It's called defeating Voldemort every year."
Grimm let out a laugh-like bark. She tilted her head. Well, Harry did have a point there. "I think you should get a bonus, since you killed a basilisk too." She burst out laughing just thinking about it. That entire night had been traumatic and awful, but she could not believe her best friend, a twelve year old, killed an ancient powerful creature such as a basilisk. Tom was so pissed.
Florean handed them their respective desserts. Harry always had a classic chocolate drizzled sundae, while Lucy preferred green frozen yogurt with silver sprinkles. It looked exactly like glitter. There was something inherently pleasing about eating edible glitter, and no, Lucy was not accepting any arguments on that stance, no matter how much Harry tried.
"Look at us. We've got our ice cream, we don't have parents— we're just a pair of adults over here," Lucy said through a mouthful of ice cream. Harry pulled a face, so she opened her mouth wider. He groaned and crumpled up a napkin, throwing it at her. It hit her in the forehead and landed in her dessert. "You think I won't eat the napkin too? You are a foolish boy."
"Please do not eat the napkin," Florean suggested from his cart.
"I'll take that into consideration," Lucy called back. She lowered her voice. "Foiled once again."
"Also I hate to break it to you, Lucy, but we do have parents," Harry said. She figured it was an attempt to draw the conversation away from possibly ingesting napkins, and in that case, she was glad to play along.
"You have parents," Lucy corrected. "I was born from leaves and dirt, my friend."
"Sometimes I wonder what my parents would have thought of you," Harry said. He had a wistful look in her eye, which she knew would turn to sadness quickly if she didn't reply. Grimm whined at his feet, and Harry reached down to scratch him behind the ear.
She offered him a half-smile. They spent a lot of their time here looking over his dad's records. And good Merlin, was he a brilliant prankster. Lucy thought she had some funny ideas for pranks, but it was nothing compared to the trouble James Potter got into.
"Your dad would have loved me," Lucy decided, and then she thought of Harry's mother. Hagrid always told them that Harry acted a lot like her. She found it hard to believe that anyone could be as kind as Harry. "I reckon the pair of them would be proud their son killed a basilisk. Do you know how insane that is, Harry? You killed a basilisk!"
"Fawkes helped," Harry added, never one to take the spotlight. "And you sort of lit it on fire for a while there with the lanterns."
"Yeah." A faint smile appeared on her face. "We're kind of awesome, you know that?"
"Yeah," Harry agreed, smiling back at her. "We are."
They spent the next few hours wandering around the stores. They spent a good deal of time outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, like they did every day since Harry started staying at Diagon Alley. He was madly in love with the new broom: a Firebolt. Lucy liked to fly fast herself, but even if she had the money to spare, three hundred galleons was a lot.
She bid her friend goodbye at around noon and then headed to Mallory's. She spotted the woman dressed in... muggle clothes? She stared, stunned at the sight. Mallory had just finished pulling on a black glove when she entered.
"Are you ever going to bring that Potter boy here?" Mallory asked, shooting her an expectant look.
Lucy was reluctant to bring Harry anywhere near Mallory's shop, despite the woman's nagging. Not because Harry didn't know she did questionable things in Knockturn Alley— she was worried Mallory's harsh demeanor would offend her friend.
"I'll bring him when I'm sure you won't ruin his innocent Gryffindor brain," Lucy replied. Mallory rolled her eyes at her. "What are you doing?"
Mallory shrugged on a long, black coat and picked her wand off the table. "We are going to London to collect a memory from Macnair."
Lucy hadn't asked, but at this point, she had a fairly good idea of what kind of life Mallory led. Her restaurant was more of a front for her real business. Mallory practiced in secrets. She traded dark objects and books, yes, but with that came the knowledge of every single person who engaged with her, including ex Death-Eaters, ministry officials, and yes, even ministers. She was, in essence, untouchable. Her 'odd jobs' never happened without a purpose behind them.
It was very Slytherin of her, in Lucy's opinion.
And it was also very fun.
"What's the memory about?" Lucy asked. She took her Wool's coat out of her bag and pulled it on as well.
As the two walked out of her shop, Mallory explained. "Mr. Borgin. He's been desperate to remove as much dirt on him as possible. I think the Aurors have started to compile a case on him. Ever since Lucius Malfoy was found with dark objects in his house, the Department of Magical Misconduct has been bloody annoying toward Knockturn Alley— they reckon that just because Malfoy's an idiot, it means everyone else is. You could call us the housecleaning service."
"But Borgin sucks," Lucy said, less enthusiastic than before.
"Yes, he does," Mallory agreed. "This is less of a favor to him and more of a favor to Severus. He's included in this particular memory too."
This was getting less fun by the second. "Snape? Now I really don't want to help!" she complained.
"Tough shit."
The Diagon Alley streets soon turned to the plain, muggle London that Lucy was very familiar with. It was only August, but the setting chill of autumn already arrived. Knowing she was walking alongside a powerful dark witch was mighty comforting. Even with Mallory's short height, muggles on the street ducked out of their way.
"Really though, why are you helping Snape?" Lucy asked at last. Maybe since she was a child she couldn't see the appeal, but she had no idea how anyone could stand to remain in Severus Snape's presence for longer than a minute. Even Tom couldn't stand him.
"Business transactions, and compared to other people, he's not an idiot. Quite the opposite of one, actually," Mallory answered. She cast her a curious glance and asked, "Why don't you like him? You can stand the Dark Lord, but not your potions professor?"
Lucy frowned. Voldemort had to be nice to her, or else she'd have gotten rid of his diary ages ago. As much as Tom claimed he thought she was like him, she knew that if anyone else had gotten ahold of his diary, he wouldn't have given her a second glance. If anything he'd have been annoyed by her just like Montague.
"Snape's just mean," Lucy insisted. "Harry's the—"
"Nicest, most kind boy in the entire world, I know," Mallory said flatly.
Lucy pulled a face at her and continued, "and Snape treats him like rubbish for no reason at all. You should see how he treats Neville Longbottom. I had class with the Gryffindors once and he made Neville cry by the end of the hour. I know he's a talented wizard and all, but how can any respectable man bully a twelve year old into tears?"
"He is an asshole," the older woman agreed. She shoved her hands in her pockets, and Lucy followed suit. It was getting bloody cold out. "I taught him Defense for a year and believe me, he wasn't a beaming ray of sunshine back then either. But, kid, not everyone was put on this earth to be kind. You're going to come across plenty of people who make your blood boil, who the sight of them makes you sick. You have to work through it. Even if they're mean, no one is useless. Anyone can be used to your advantage."
Lucy thought that was actually a pretty good point. No one was useless, even miserable lumps like Snape. It sounded like something Tom would have told her, except now that it was coming from Mallory, she knew it had actual merit. The woman lived a long life compared to Tom's fifteen-year-old self. And since she had the time... she might as well find out if anything Tom said was good advice, or if he was messing with her.
"Do you believe in good and evil?"
Mallory didn't even pause at the suddenly theological question. She stared ahead of them and kept walking. "Are you asking because you want to know what I think or because you want to know what you should think?"
Lucy shrugged. "Both, I guess."
"How about you tell me what you think. Do you believe in good and evil?"
They think there's such a thing as 'good' and evil', 'dark' and 'light'. In reality, there's only power. You just need the determination to seek it.
Lucy, they're not right! You're not evil. No one is evil. They're seeing things in black and white.
You'd think that Lucy would flinch at the sudden, cold whisper in her ear. She might have gasped out loud or tripped on the pavement. But really, she was so used to these little whispers that the only indication she heard it at all was the shiver that ran up her spine.
"No, I don't," she said firmly.
Mallory was skeptical. "You don't?"
"I don't."
"You don't believe in it, or he didn't?"
It was as if she'd been slapped. She turned to Mallory, stricken, but paused upon seeing the woman looking at her. But there wasn't any of the unwanted pity in her eyes, not a trace of sympathy. Mallory was merely curious. Lucy clenched her fists, and it went unnoticed inside her pockets. No, she believed it. She believed him when he told her.
"No one's evil," she repeated. She believed herself. "No one." She thought about all the good things Tom did. Admittedly, there weren't a lot— but there were some. He helped her get to Hogwarts. That had been centered around her, but there were other things, too. He didn't have to tell her how to wake Harry up when the Bludger hit him, but he did anyway. He didn't have to correct Hermione's homework over her shoulder, but he did anyway. No one was entirely evil. She sighed. "It doesn't matter either way, I guess. In the end, none of it mattered." All the good Tom did, the polite yet distant mask Montague wore, none of it mattered.
Mallory stared at her for a minute, considering her. Finally, she tilted her head. "It's a long walk, Lucy. And I feel like you've got a long story to tell."
And for the first time ever, Lucy told all of it. She told Mallory all about how Mr. Malfoy used Dobby the house elf to slip the diary into her bag. She didn't know why the man had done it, but given the chance, she was going to force the answer out of him. Lucy talked all about how she slowly got to know Tom, and how he taught her dark magic.
Mallory was somewhat amused to find out that Tom had been inside her shop just as much as Lucy had. But she was definitely disturbed to find out that Tom approved of her.
"I don't need the Dark Lord's seal of approval, thank you very much," she muttered.
"Well, you've got it. Consider yourself approved, Mallory."
"Continue the fucking story, kid."
Laughing, she listened and kept talking. She went through the entire investigation, this time more thoroughly than before. Mallory couldn't help but burst out laughing when Lucy informed her that she robbed Dumbledore with a snake, and she swore she saw a tear come out of the woman's eye when Lucy explained how she and Tom traumatized the entire school with The Mist. Mallory laughed at a lot of Tom's antics, actually. Lucy felt better knowing that she wasn't insane, that Tom really was a funny bastard at times. For once, she felt like she wasn't a complete and utter idiot for believing him.
The only time Mallory's humor faded was when Lucy broached the subject that so far, she hadn't brought up with anyone. Not since the night it happened.
"Montague did what?" Mallory said, very quietly.
Lucy winced. "Yeah. It really hurt." She pointed to the scar on her cheek. "He also scratched the money-maker, which quite honestly I think is the greatest tragedy of all. There is no honor among snakes, my friend."
Mallory was still shocked, but she also had a quiet fury growing in her eyes. "I thought Riddle did that," she said, still quiet. "When Professor Vector told me about the Cruciatus— I thought it was him."
...That explained why Mallory didn't ask about him, then. Lucy half-smiled. "No. He was rather mad about it. He said, and I quote," she lowered her voice and matched it to Tom's posh accent. She had long since mastered imitating him. "It's Lord Voldemort he wants, is it?" She burst into maniacal laughter. "Then it's Lord Voldemort he'll get!" And like a switch flipped, Lucy was back to her normal voice. "And then he killed Flint and Pucey, so yeah," she said, like it was an afterthought.
She started to laugh at Mallory's shell-shocked expression.
"Lucy. What, and I cannot stress this enough, the absolute fuck was your second year?"
"That's what I'm saying! The gods are cruel, I tell you." Lucy looked up and scowled at the sky. A singular rain drop hit her on the forehead. "Oh, what the hell!"
"I would get the unlucky kid," Mallory scoffed to herself. She shook her head and cleared her throat. "I think your streak with trying to keep secrets is not working out in your favor, kid. From now on— pick one person, alright? Whether it's me or another one of your insane friends, tell one person your secrets from now on."
Anthony Rickett flashed into Lucy's mind, and she nodded easily. She definitely learned her lesson.
The rest of the trip passed more pleasantly than the first half. Mallory launched into a tale of her Hogwarts years, which amounted to her and her brother making Professor Dumbledore question his teaching career. Mallory and her brother Alistair were such Slytherins. Mallory's web of connections stretched even to her years in Hogwarts; she and her brother ran a betting pool on just about everything. Quidditch, duelling club, chess club, gobstones— except in her betting pool, she fixed the results so that she always made a profit.
By the time they reached Macnair's spare flat, Lucy was thoroughly impressed.
If the Slytherin common room wasn't so cold, she'd have liked to be sorted there after all.
...Actually, no thanks. Then she'd have to live near Malfoy and that was a travesty in and of itself.
Macnair's flat was on a relatively empty street, if you could even call it a street. It was about the width of an alleyway and while the outside of the buildings were neat and marbled, she noted that a good deal of them were empty.
"Stay here," Mallory warned her as they stood before the entrance. "I'll just be a moment."
Lucy stared at her. "If it was only going to take a second, why'd I come along?"
"I was in the mood for a walk," Mallory shrugged. "Even old ladies need company sometimes."
That was a nearly two-hour walk... for fun? Lucy was disgusted at the sight of Mallory. How could she trick her into exercising? Did she have no decency? Morals? Kindness?
"I will remember this betrayal, Ms. Alpin," Lucy said quietly.
Mallory gave her a strange look. "You're kind of creepy, so shut up. I'll be out shortly."
With that, the woman strode up to the door and opened it without knocking. Lucy stayed watching as she closed the dark oak wood door behind her.
Stay here. Lucy could do that. She was great at that, in fact. She was the best at staying in one place. Yep, there wasn't any trouble here. She was going to stay here and keep watch, and everything was normal. Nothing surprising or weird was going to happen at all. She was Lucy Rochester, and she could last five minutes without something stupid occuring.
She hoped that if she repeated it to herself enough, it was going to work.
She kept watch diligently in case any aurors decided to take down the one and only Mallory Alpin. She hummed lightly to herself, looking up and down the alleyway. It was rather fun. Left, right, left, right, left, right, left—
...
Tom?
Lucy stared at the end of the alleyway. Although dim, she could see it clearly. She swore she could see him standing there. She felt like she'd caught glimpses before. When she was about to fall asleep, she'd hear hissing in her ear, a flash of white, but this was clear. Plain as day.
He wasn't looking at her.
"Surely not..." she muttered. Her heartbeat picked up, but it wasn't out of fear. "Tom?" she said, her voice hardly above a whisper.
Tom was too far away to hear her, and eyt, his head snapped in her direction. The motion was violent, unnatural. His once neutral expression twisted into something else. In an instant, she could see his face contort into fury, betrayal. He started shouting at her, but she couldn't hear any sounds coming out of his mouth. Black ink trickled out of his eyes, his mouth... He reached toward her.
Without thinking, Lucy reached back. Her wand started to let out green sparks the closer she got. Tom, Tom, Tom! She began to run toward him, when a sudden grip fastened around her arm. Mallory pulled the younger girl to her side.
"It's not real," Mallory said calmly. "Macnair's hidden boggarts everywhere. It's to keep the muggles away."
"It's... what?" Lucy was still staring at Tom. Her heart felt like it was going to explode.
He fell to his knees, still reaching, his other hand holding his chest. He was in pain. Her happiness turned to fear. There was nobody else around. They weren't in an alleyway. It was just her, and Tom, staring at each other in blackness... Her ears began to ring. Through the ringing, she heard his voice shout louder than it should have been. "You killed me!" he screamed, furious tears pouring down. "You were my friend! How could you let him kill me?"
Lucy stayed, frozen to the spot. The sting from the beginning of summer was returning in full force.
Mallory still appeared completely unbothered. She nudged Lucy forward. "It's not real," the woman insisted, her tone almost bored. "And I refuse to believe that anyone could hate you, so it's a shitty boggart at that." She nudged Lucy even further. "Go on, then. Get rid of it."
Lucy didn't pull her gaze away from Tom. "How?" she asked, and her voice cracked. Tom pushed himself to his feet, stumbling slightly. He stepped toward her as if he could sense her growing anxiety.
"The spell is Riddikulus. Think of anything else. Something happy."
One thing flashed into her mind. In one swift movement, she waved her wand. "Riddikulus!"
The boggart was Tom again, except he was looking at her with that 'you just said something really stupid and I'm disturbed' face. It was so familiar, so jarringly exact that a burst of laughter left her lips.
Mallory waved her wand at the boggart, and it exploded. She smirked down at Lucy. "Good on you, Lucy," she said with honest praise.
Now that she felt her five senses returning to her, she scowled at the spot where the boggart once was. "It was a lame fear," she sighed.
"Lame? It was Voldemort, and you beat it first try. Older and wiser wizards than you can't face their fears."
"He's still lame," Lucy muttered. "Do you have the memory?"
Mallory pulled a little swirling vial out of her pocket and shook it slightly. She also pulled an expensive looking knife out and handed it to Lucy, who took it eagerly. "Macnair was being a bitch, so I stole his knife while he wasn't looking. Happy birthday or something."
"Mallory, you are the best role model ever," Lucy said with the utmost seriousness. She put the knife in her pocket, and the two started on their way back to Diagon Alley. She couldn't help but ask, "What's your boggart, Mallory?"
"That's personal."
"You just saw the embodiment of Voldemort possessing me a minute ago."
Mallory cursed under her breath. "Okay, fine. I'm scared of snakes."
She was joking. She had to be. Lucy examined her expression, searching for any signs of deception, but she found nothing. "You're a Slytherin! How are you scared of snakes?"
"They're disgusting! At least centipedes have legs!"
"I should bring Ford by sometime," Lucy said thoughtfully.
Mallory's head snapped toward her. She jabbed a threatening finger in her direction. "I'll kill your fucking snake, kid."
"He's an angel!"
"Yes, he will be once I murder him if you bring his slimey skin anywhere near my restaurant."
"I think you just have to give him a chance..."
"Do not."
Lucy had never been more excited for the end of summer.
Working for Mallory was fun, and she was learning lots underneath the woman's guidance, but good merlin did she grow to hate Wool's Orphanage. Whenever she returned from Diagon Alley, it was as if she was entering a festering pit of bullies. Lucy couldn't sit down at dinnertime without checking for gum in her seat, nor did she trust leaving any of her belongings in her room. She settled for hiding them underneath the floorboard, like she used to do.
On August 31st, she decided to wake Harry up like a kind friend would. That really meant that she broke into Harry's room by kicking the door in and throwing a knockback jinx to knock him out of bed.
"Good morning, my dearest friend!" Lucy said, beaming as he landed on the ground with a thump. Grimm trotted in behind her, barking joivally.
"Whyyyyy?" Harry groaned into the floor. He pushed himself up, grimacing at the sight of her. He was still in his pajamas. She was certain this was the first time Harry ever used that particular finger on anyone. "You are a menace, Rochester."
"I am well aware, Potter. Now get dressed— I promised Mallory I'd bring you by before summer's over."
"It's the last day of summer, Lucy."
"Exactly!" Lucy beamed. Less time for Mallory to embarrass her.
"You just cursed me out of bed. Why would I go anywhere with you?" Harry complained.
"Now, now, Harry, let's not be facetious," Lucy scolded. "I jinxed you out of bed. There is a very clear difference here."
Harry picked up a pillow and threw it at her face. Gracefully, she let the impact happen. She deserved that one. Laughing, she picked the pillow off the floor and tossed it back onto his bed. "But really, she'll make you free food, and I hate to blaspheme against our innkeeper here, but she's the best cook ever."
"I think you're forgetting Mrs. Weasley exists," Harry said. Lucy would have to disagree on that one. She respected and really liked Mrs Weasley but Mallory was not a force to be reckoned with. Harry had his orphan parental figure, and Lucy had hers.
Now that he was more awake, his humor was returning and he snickered at her appearance. "Nice shirt, Luce."
She pinched the yellow fabric between her fingers and grinned. "It is, isn't it?"
Around a week ago, Lucy decided she was sick of all her ratty old orphan clothes. And since she had a fair bit of money saved up from working at Mallory's, she ventured into muggle London for a shopping trip. She definitely did not buy muggle skirts and jeans because it would annoy Tom... no, she would never do such a thing... But even with her neat new clothes, she wasn't' satisfied.
She took her yellow T-Shirt and personalized it with fabric markers. Now, in loopy cursive that she forced Eric to write on, since she and Mallory both had chicken scratch handwriting, the front of her T-Shirt now read: Death Bringer.She had it tucked into her black skirt and she was very proud of herself.
"Now get out of my room, I'll only be a minute," Harry said, pushing her toward the doorway.
She waited outside patiently. Which really meant that she threw her wand and sent Grimm to go and fetch it. It was a good thing that Harry changed quickly, otherwise she might have ended up with a damaged wand. When Harry saw what she was doing, he sighed and picked the wand out of Grimm's mouth.
"Sometimes I wonder about you, Lucy," he told her.
"I am who I am, Harry." Then, remembering, the time she was possessed, she reconsidered. "Except for when I'm not."
Harry blinked. "What?"
"What, indeed."
She dragged him straight to Mallory's shop. The moment they entered, Eric stormed passed, his fury palpable. Harry was a bit shocked, but Lucy only grinned.
"Hey, Mallory. Did Eric quit again?"
"Third time this month," Mallory said without looking up from her newspaper. "I think it's hormones." She glanced up, and when she saw Harry, she raised her eyebrows. She set the newspaper to the side. "So you're the kid Lucy never shuts up about?"
Lucy scowled, while Harry laughed slightly and nodded. "I guess so. Why'd that man quit?"
"Because he, Harry, is an idiot. Now sit down— I have a new recipe I've been trying..."
Lucy and Harry sat at the table in front of the window, which was Lucy's favorite spot in the entire shop. She liked to watch the wizards and witches pass by. Harry did too, and as he ate his breakfast, he answered all of Mallory's half-rude, half-honest questions. Lucy wasn't sure how it happened but somehow, the conversation topic turned to her.
"She's fucking weird, isnt' she?" Mallory snorted.
Harry blinked at her language but nodded in agreement. "She was playing fetch with her wand a moment ago."
"Snitch!" Lucy hissed, as Mallory's accusing gaze turned to her.
"You what? You only have one perfect wand, idiot!"
"My boy needed entertainment!" Lucy defended. Grimm barked in agreement.
Up until now, Grimm had been silently laying at Lucy's feet. Mallory rolled her eyes once she realized the dog was there. "Kid, you know the rules about dogs in the restaurant."
Lucy sighed. Yes, yes she did. She looked down at Grimm. "Sorry, Grimm. You heard the boss." She tore off a piece of french toast and tossed it to him. He caught it, and with a wag of his tail, he ran out of the restaurant.
"If I hear you're using your wand as a toy ever again..." Mallory trailed off, but the warning was clear enough. Lucy sighed and leaned back in her chair. She had to have some fun around here... Mallory turned back to Harry. "Yeah. Weird is a kind word for idiot."
Harry nodded, sipping at his drink. He set it down and shrugged. "But basically, I'd die for her."
He very nearly did, for that matter. Lucy was still scowling, but it was more for show than anything. Mallory simply nodded at his words. The woman probably thought it was weird but over the course of summer, Lucy's phrases started to infect Harry. All those times she informed Florean that she'd die for him slipped into her friend's vocabulary as well.
Breakfast passed nicely, and although they finished eating, the conversation was still going strong. Lucy was sort of surprised at how well Mallory and Harry Potter were getting along. She thought that since Mallory was a Slytherin and didn't like muggles, she'd not like the Boy-Who-Lived either. She had to remember that Mallory didn't mind muggleborns and she didn't like the Dark Lord.
Harry had just finished explaining how they smuggled a dragon through Hogwarts, when the door to the shop opened. Mallory still stayed, staring shocked at the pair of them.
"Dragon..." she was mouthing to herself.
"Harry! I thought that was you through the window."
Ron? Lucy looked to see him standing, and she beamed. "Ron!"
"Fucking hell, it's a daycare already," Mallory grumbled. She looked toward Lucy. "You've got ten minutes in here before I kick you all out." She stayed sitting, but she picked up the newspaper and started paging through it. Lucy recognized that expression on her face. She was currently blocking out everyone in the shop, and chances were Mallory wouldn't pay attention until everyone cleared out.
Like Mallory taught her, Lucy waved her wand, and the dishes floated to the sink and began to wash themselves. Harry was appropriately impressed by the display.
Lucy and Harry left their seats to approach Ron.
"What's this place?" Ron asked, looking around the restaurant. "I've never been in here before."
"Lucy works here. Are you here shopping, then?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, we're staying overnight, like you— do you stay at the Leaky Cauldron too, Lucy?"
Ron seemed shocked that Lucy was here in the first place. She reckoned it had something to do with the fact that at the beginning of summer, she hadn't sent anyone letters, and now she was standing with Harry causing mischief.
She grinned. "That's a secret."
"Everything is, isn't it?" Ron said, shaking his head. "Well, Hermione's here, too. She's at Florean's by now; she didn't believe me when I said I saw you two."
He hadn't even finished his sentence by the time Lucy raced out the door. She weaved between the crowd, and running quickly, she reached Hermione in no time. She jumped at her friend, hugging her shoulders as she collapsed, panting, on the bench beside her. "GRANGER!" She yelled.
Hermione jumped and let out a sharp squeak. "Lucy!" she said, annoyed. Then, realizing who was with her, she let out a happier squeak. "Lucy! Oh, it's so good to see you!" She hugged her back just as tightly. She pulled away and looked over her appearance. "I love your hair-cut!"
"Thanks! Voldemort inspired it!" Lucy said, beaming.
Hermione's smile faded and she cleared her throat. "Yes, of course... Are you doing alright?"
"Never better," Lucy replied, still grinning. She had, in fact, been better. She still dreaded nighttime, but during the day at Diagon Alley with Harry she was pleased as peaches. "I ditched Ron and Harry since they're lame. We should do the same."
"That's horrible," Hermione said, but she looked awfully tempted.
Unfortunately, Ron and Harry caught up with them before they could make a break for it. Hermione stopped smiling once she saw Harry and she gave him a stern look.
"Harry, did you really blow up your aunt?"
"I didn't mean to!" Harry said at once, while Ron burst out laughing. "I just lost control!"
"We all are guilty of attempted murder at least once in our lives, I think," Lucy said, nodding.
Hermione scoffed. "I'm amazed he wasn't expelled."
Harry sat across from them. He shook his head bemusedly. "So am I... Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested."
"Condemned," Lucy continued.
"Scorned," he added.
"Trialed!"
"Murdered," Harry finished.
Ron and Hermione looked from Lucy, to Harry, then back to Lucy. They shared a disturbed look.
"I think they've spent too much time around one another..." Ron whispered, horrified.
"Far too much," Hermione agreed fervently.
Harry continued as if he and Lucy hadn't just been menaces. "Ron, your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?"
"Because you're Harry Potter," Ron shrugged. "I'd hate to see what the Ministry would do to me if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would have killed me. Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight too! So you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione's there as well."
"Mum and Dad dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things," Hermione said excitedly.
"Wicked!" Harry grinned. "Have you all done your shopping, then?"
"Just about," Ron said. He pulled out a black box and opened it. "I've got a brand-new wand! Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we've got all our books. Those bloody monster books— the assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted two."
Lucy had also witnessed the employees' dismay at the monster books. When she went to buy hers, she took one look at them and then stunned them. She found that it worked swimmingly, and ever since then, she had it tied tightly shut with rope. The muffled roars from her wardrobe was a bit unnerving at times, but it did wonders to keep bullies like Jennifer out of her room.
"What's all that, Hermione?" Harry asked. He pointed at three huge bags of books at Hermione's feet.
"Well, I'm taking more new subjects than you, aren't I? Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, the Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies—"
"What are you doing Muggle Studies for?" Ron demanded. "You're muggleborn! Your mum and dad are muggles! You already know all about muggles!"
"But it'll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view!"
More likeincredibly boring. Lucy had to agree with Ron on this one; unless you didn't know a thing about them, Muggle Studies sounded like a snoring fest.
"I hate to break it to you, Hermione, but you are a huge nerd," Lucy informed her.
"Almost a geek, I'd wager," Harry added.
"Might I go as far as to say she is a braniac?"
"Luce, you go too far!"
"That's it, you're not allowed to talk to each other for the rest of the trip!" Ron snapped.
"Agreed." Hermione was becoming increasingly disturbed by Harry and Lucy's antics. Harry was still a great deal kinder, but Lucy's influence was showing, and it was horrific. "Anyway... I've still got ten galleon. Mum and Dad gave me money to get myself an early birthday present."
"How about a nice book?" Ron said innocently, still looking at her bags of books.
Hermione knew he was being a git, she just chose to ignore it. "No, I don't think so. I really want an owl. I mean, Harry's got Hedwig and you've got Errol, and Lucy's got—" she looked toward Lucy. "What's your owl's name?"
Lucy looked her dead in the eye. "Snape."
Hermione's composure faded. Lucy could swear she saw a vein pulsing in her temple. "What?" she said in a very strained voice.
Lucy wasn't sure if repeating it was the wisest idea, but then again, Lucy had never been wise.
"My. Owl's. Name. Is. Snape."
"Why?" Ron whispered. He looked slightly pale. "Why do you do the things that you do?"
"Lucy, I—" Harry began.
Ron pointed a finger at him. "I said you're not allowed to talk to each other!"
"You can't be serious?"
He gave Harry a 'try me' sort of look. It reminded Harry so much of Mrs. Weasley that he wisely chose to heed Ron's words. He cleared his throat, turning to Hermione. "Well, if you want a pet, then the emporium's just over there," he said, pointing to the shop.
"Yeah, I want to get Scabbers checked over too, while we're there," Ron frowned. He pulled his rat out of his pocket. Scabbers had never been particularly pleasant looking, but he was skinnier than he usually was, and the ends of his whiskers were graying. "I don't think Egypt agreed with him."
Once they reached the pet store, Lucy at once knew she was not going to leave empty-handed. Yes, she had more pets than Hogwarts officially allowed. Yes, she was planning on getting Grimm to Hogwarts somehow too. And yes, she had a pet snake on top of that. But... she needed one.
Harry wasn't allowed to talk to her, so he wasn't able to talk her out of it. Ron and Hermione didn't notice the warning signs of Lucy's impulse buys. Harry couldn't do anything but watch disappointedly as Lucy browsed through the aisles.
"Looking for a pet to fill the void in my chest, and no, I will never give it a rest," Lucy sang to herself.
She lingered at the poisonous snails, but ultimately decided that she might get someone killed that way. Perhaps something neither clever nor magical would be the best bet. All of her pets were already insanely smart, especially Grimm. Ford didn't really count, since she could speak to him and all.
Lucy looked for an awfully long time before she made her purchase. So long, in fact, that her friends were waiting outside by the time she finished.
Hermione's gaze went to the lump in her hands, and she groaned. "Lucy, you didn't!" She turned to Harry accusingly. "Why didn't you stop her?"
"You said I couldn't talk to her!"
"You can't!" Ron snapped.
"I am a mature witch and I can make my own decisions!" Lucy insisted, holding her hands closer to her chest. She stroked the top of her pet's head with her thumb. "I know you three aren't aware of the newest fads, but toads are in this season. Look at her! Look at my gir!"
She held her hands out, revealing a very fat, green toad.
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose.
"What's her name?" Ron said reluctantly.
Lucy stared at him. "Tom Marvotoad Riddle."
Ron stared back at her, and then he turned to Harry. "I give up. This is all you, mate."
Harry grumbled under his breath and then stepped closer to her. "Luce, there's a few things wrong with that. First of all, you can't name a pet after Voldemort. Secondly, your toad is a girl."
"Harry, that is precisely why I'm naming my pet after Voldemort, because I know he'd be pissed off if he knew I named a fat, female toad after him."
He tilted his head, considering that. He supposed he was right, and really, who was he to ruin her fun? "You've convinced me."
"What!" Hermione said.
Now that Ron and Hermione were dead inside, they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron to meet up with the Weasleys. Lucy spent the way there going between speaking to her new toad and scratching Hermione's new cat, Crookshanks, behind the ear. Crookshanks decided that he hated Ron and Harry and while he acted like he didn't like Lucy, he still allowed her to pet him.
Mr. Weasley was sitting in the bar when they entered, reading the newspaper.
"Harry, Lucy," Mr. Weasley looked up and smiled at them. "How are you?"
"Fine, thanks," they said in unison, sitting beside him.
"Stop doing that," Ron snapped. "It's worse than the twins."
Harry kindly ignored him. He looked toward the Daily Prophet. Like the weeks before, Sirius Black was still on the front page. "They still haven't got him, then?" he asked.
"No. They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far," Mr. Weasley said gravely.
Lucy and Harry shared an awkward look. They decided not to mention that by accident, Lucy had accomplished what they had pulled all their manpower together to do: find Sirius Black. She figured Mr. Weasley wouldn't appreciate that she and Sirius Black had a nice little chat in Knockturn Alley.
"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" Ron wondered. "It'd be good to get some more money—"
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard," Mr. Weasley said. Once again, Lucy and Harry cringed. "It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words."
Yikes, Lucy thought.
Suddenly, there was a flash of red, and Lucy found herself encased in a tight hug by none other than Ginny Weasley. "LUCY!" She yelled in her ear. Lucy let out a surprised noise that immediately made Hermione burst out laughing.
"Now you see how I felt," Hermione said smugly.
"I would never reject a hug from Ginevra Weasley," Lucy said in mock-offense. The redhead was still hanging off of her, and she reached to hug her back. "Hey, Ginny!"
It was still hard to look at Ginny without thinking of how Lucy nearly brought about her death. She tried to remain happy with the fact that Ginny was alive now, and that was all that mattered. Still, the memory of seeing her laying on the chamber floor, unmoving, Tom stood over her, made Lucy's stomach turn with guilt.
She picked her toad off the counter and held her to her chest again.
"Harry. How nice to see you," Percy said solemnly, holding his hand out for Harry to shake.
Harry tried not to laugh. "Hello, Percy."
"I hope you're well?"
"Very well, thanks—"
Fred shoved Percy out of the way and rushed forward, bowing deeply before Harry. "Harry! Simply splendid to see you, old boy—"
"Marvelous," George pushed Fred to the side and shook Harry's arm violently. "Absolutely spiffing."
Percy glared at them.
"That's enough now," Mrs. Weasley scolded.
"Mum!" Fred rushed toward her. "How really corking to see you—"
Lucy shook her head, trying not to grin at the Weasleys' antics. She had to remain loyal to Anthony and never laugh at the Weasley twins. She turned to face Percy and said, in a hushed voice, "Is it true that I, Lucy Rochester, am standing in the very same room as the Head Boy?"
Percy's scowl slowly lessened. He adjusted his badge. "You've heard correctly," he said proudly.
"I'm not worthy!" Lucy held up her hands to shield her eyes.
Unlike the twins' teasing, Lucy's wasn't meant to annoy him. Percy laughed. The sound was so shocking to his siblings that Ginny released her hold on Lucy, and Fred and George froze in their tracks.
"Really though, congratulations, Percy. I knew you'd get it," Lucy grinned.
"Thank you, Lucy. I expect I'll be the last head boy in the family." His gaze flickered to Fred and George, who pulled silly faces at him.
"I don't doubt that," Mrs. Weasley said, frowning. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."
"What do we want to be prefects for?" George said, outraged. "It'd take the fun out of life!"
Lucy was in full agreement, but in front of Mrs. Weasley and Percy, she decided not to voice that.
The Weasleys started to put all their shopping back into their rooms, and once they were done, they scattered across the bar. Fred, George, and Ginny all found one booth while Percy headed back up to his room. Lucy gave him Tom Marvotoad Riddle to look after for the evening, which he regarded as an important responsibility. Hermione and Mrs. Weasley were talking about different types of charms, and Mr. Weasley was in the middle of recounting his first ministry job.
"Hey, kid! You left your coat in my— oh sweet Salazar..."
Mallory stood, horrified, at the festering nest of gingers laid out in front of her. She looked toward Lucy accusingly. "This is the last time I do anything nice for you," she snapped.
Lucy laughed and hopped down from her stool. She headed up to Mallory, beaming. "This works out well— I was going to stop by later to say goodbye before I went home."
"You should go home before it gets dark," Mallory suggested.
"You've not been staying at the Leaky Cauldron?" Mrs Weasley asked. She sounded slightly alarmed. "I thought you and Harry have both been staying here."
That was a lot of money she'd have wasted staying here rather than simply walking from Wool's. Lucy shook her head. "No, it's just Harry. I've been visiting—"
"By yourself?" Even Mr. Weasley was looking concerned now.
Mallory refrained from rolling her eyes. "She's been alright so far. I think she can handle a short walk, Molly."
Lucy raised her eyebrows. They knew each other? Catching Mallory's eye, the woman explained. "I went to school with Molly's brothers."
"At a certain point, I've just got to assume that you know everyone," Lucy said blankly.
"That's probably for the best."
Mallory gave Lucy her coat. "Anyway, bring that dog with you on the way home, will you?"
Lucy shrugged. She wasn't making any promises; Grimm wandered off for the day and he likely wouldn't be back until tomorrow. That was probably for the best, considering how threatening he appeared. She doubted Ron and Hermione would warm up to him so quickly. She asked Mallory if the woman could somehow use her dark connections to smuggle Grimm to Hogwarts, to which she replied 'No Promises' and left it at that. Lucy had a bit of hope.
"Mallory, I'm not sure a twelve-year-old should walk through London on her own," Mrs Weasley said, frowning.
"I might be thirteen," Lucy cut in.
"Might be?" Ron asked. "When's your birthday?"
"Who knows? I thought I was still ten when Dumbledore gave me my Hogwarts letter," Lucy said, shrugging.
"Well, when do you celebrate your birthday?" Ron asked instead.
Lucy stared at him, confused.
Ron's jaw dropped. "No... No way... You've never had a birthday?" He turned to Harry, outraged. "Are you hearing this?"
"I am hearing this," Harry replied, equally as shocked.
"Every day's your birthday when you're beautiful," Lucy said wisely.
Ron and Harry weren't appeased by that answer whatsoever. In any case, Mallory didn't care. She looked down at her and said, "I'm going home now. You'd better not miss the train again."
"No promises," Lucy joked.
"And here's something else." Mallory reached into her coat and pulled out a yellow journal. It was rather plain looking, but she dropped it into Lucy's hand. "I reckon you should start one of these to keep all your secrets— and I can assure you, this one doesn't write back."
Lucy stared at the journal for a good few moments. She slept with the ruined diary close by, but she never had the courage to open it anymore. Slowly, she felt a little smile curl on her lips. Before Mallory could say a word, Lucy hugged her tightly. Mallory sighed and awkwardly patted her on the back.
"Yeah, yeah. Let go of me. And write." Mallory leaned down and whispered, "and just so you know, I told a few fellows at Durmstrang to give Montague a special welcome." She stepped back and shot Lucy a dark grin.
Lucy smiled back just as brightly. Whatever it was, she felt dark glee that Montague was getting some sort of punishment after all. She didn't feel that Tom's curse had been enough. Not death or anything, but she'd feel a lot better if he at least went to Azkaban.
Mallory left without another word.
Lucy heeded her words and, reluctantly, left Diagon Alley before it turned dark. Percy promised to hold her toad until tomorrow. She had a feeling he'd taken a liking to Tom Marvotoad Riddle. If that was the case, Lucy was absolutely not going to tell him her toad's name.
The entire way home, she paged through the blank pages of her diary. Her diary, not Tom's not anyone's. She imagined what she might write in it. She'd have to include all her Voldemort stories, of course— but also, she could write down other things, like notes and spells. Tom had Riddle's Book. Why shouldn't she have Rochester's Book?
Her appreciation for Mallory ran deeper than it ever had before. Thinking back on it, she never looked up to or trusted an adult before. Quirrell had been an okay mentor, but she still knew he was dangerous. Mrs Weasley was amazing but Lucy didn't feel like she'd do well under her supervision. But Mallory... She always seemed to know what to say.
She didn't bother with the unanswerable questions like how are you? Are you okay? She said what was on her mind, and even if Lucy didn't agree with it, or if she didn't agree with Lucy, Mallory never scorned her for it.
She crawled into bed once she reached Wool's. She grabbed her diary out from under her pillow and held it in front of her.
"If only you were still here, then I could put my memories into my diary, and we could have been diary buddies," Lucy sighed. It would have been so cool.
She put Tom's diary back in its place and then rolled onto her stomach. She placed her pen for the paper and wrote her name. The letters stayed. That was always a good sign, in her experience.
She began to write:
This mystery journal of secrets belongs to one Lucille Eve Gina Esmee Naomi Diana Eline Rochester... In the event that this beautiful specimen of a girl dies, she would like to note that this happened because the world is evil and cruel and disguises literally EVERYONE as Lord Voldemort...
It was a good start to Rochester's Book, in her opinion.
Surely, she couldn't meet Lord Voldemort every year.
...Right?