Dear Lucy,
Hey, Luce!
Knew you'd write back eventually! Ginny and I have been telling Percy for ages, but you know him. He'd worry about the sunrise if he had the chance. I think that if another week went by, he was going to round up Mum and Dad to come and see you— or the twins and I might have flown another car...
Word of the wise— don't scream into the telephone if you want to call Harry. Or really, don't call him at all. I reckon you would have known that already, but it was news to me! That uncle of his really does know how to yell, doesn't he?
I know I told you in the last letter, but Egypt is great! We've gone through all the tombs. Mum tried to keep Ginny from going into one, but she snuck in anyway and she and the twins locked Percy inside. He wasn't too pleased about it, and neither was Mum, for that matter.
Ginny says hi, by the way. I told her to write her own letter but she wouldn't stop bothering me until I wrote it down.
Harry's birthday is coming up soon. Have you visited him yet? Wouldn't blame you if you didn't. Those muggles are awful!
Write back soon, please. We're all a little worried. Are you doing alright? How's life at Wool's? We'll be back a week before term starts, and it'd be great if we could meet you at the Leaky Cauldron.
Love, Ron.
PS— Here's a newspaper clipping with all of us on it! We made the Daily Prophet!
•
Dear Lucy,
I'm glad to hear from you! I wasn't sure if my letter arrived or not, but I didn't want to be overbearing, like I'm sure Rickett is being. If you thought what he sent to you was bad, you don't want to know how many times he's called me on the Floo worrying. My mum and dad, bless them, don't know how to turn it off. I had to threaten to board it up to get him to stop.
Have you received your grades yet? I know we didn't take exams, but they must have sent your average scores. We unfortunate older students still had to take our OWLs and NEWTs over the summer, but at least we had extra time to study.
In more exciting news— I'm Head Girl! I know, I shouldn't boast, but I really didn't expect to get it! I only hope they won't take away my badge on account of Rickett's antics. I can't say for certain, but fair warning, Lucy: he's brewing up something in that brain of his.
What have you been doing lately? I can't wait for all of us to be together again at Hogwarts.
May the summer pass by quickly!
With love,
Daisy.
(Head Girl)
PS— (HEAD GIRL!)
•
Ms. Rochester,
If you try and send that broomstick back to me ever again, I will send Rickett, Diggory, O'Flaherty, and especially Locke after you. I've returned it, clearly, because I expect you to bring some glory to the Hufflepuff house. Minerva's been getting on my last nerve; she and Albus have a betting pool on Gryffindor, I know they do.
You didn't hear any of this from me.
The point being: keep the broomstick. Join the team.
An order directly from:
Madam Hooch.
•
Rochester,
STOP SENDING MY FATHER DUNG BOMBS!
I KNOW IT'S YOU! Good Merin, are you THAT much of a menace already? Every morning, at least ten come in the mail— STOP IT! It's bad enough that Potter took our bloody house elf, do you have to taint our manor too?!
Not your friend,
Malfoy
•
Rochester,
Keep sending Malfoy's dad Dung Bombs. He deserves it. They both do.
Sincerely,
Theodore Nott
•
Dear Lucy,
I can't believe you've already gone back to Knockturn Alley. Are you sure you won't tell me what you were doing there? Knowing you, I bet it's something odd.
Privet Drive is boring as always, but at least I can leave the house now. And I managed to sneak some of my school books under the floorboards so I won't be swamped later.
Did you hear that Ron and his family won a prize? I'm glad they did. If anyone deserves all the money in the world, it's them.
For no reason in particular, can you send me the address of your orphanage? It's for purely innocent reasons, nothing to be suspicious of at all. I definitely wouldn't show up there at any time, not when Privet Drive is so homely and fun... No, I'd never do that...
Keep me updated about your trips to Diagon Alley. I think it's neat that you can go there on your own. Hopefully one of these days I can go too.
Write back soon,
Love,
Harry
•
TO MY BRILLIANT LITTLE DUCKLING WHOM I MISS DEARLY:
Hello, Lucy!
I bet you were expecting a crazy letter, right? Wrong! I, Anthony Rickett, am a perfectly reasonable young man who does not need to yell through my letters to get a point across.
ANd by that, I mean that my mum saw my first draft and threw it into the fire because I was 'being annoying'.
Me? ANNOYING? I think she must be mistaken . I am a handsome, dashing, funny, not to mention handsome boy who is NEVER annoying. Right? Tell me I'm right.
To answer your question, Montague was expelled, yes, but my dad told me he and his family moved to Bulgaria before an investigation could begin. I'd bet he's going to Durmstrang now. I don't think it needs saying that if he ever returns to Britain, he'll wish your sinister snakey friend had killed him.
How are you holding up, Lucy? You can be honest with me. I don't mind hearing about Riddle. In fact, I still think he is very handsome, and oh merlin, I think Voldemort is hot...
Please don't tell Daisy...
But SERIOUSLY! My ears are always open. Hell, you could tell me about the specks of dust you found today and I would listen.
That was a joke, by the way. Please don't tell me about the specks of dust you found. I had a bad feeling that you were about to write a ten foot long essay about that, and my brain needs a rest after OWLs.
Oh— this just came to mind. I don't know if you've heard about Sirius Black, but I've attached a newspaper clipping of his escape. Be careful, will you? He's incredibly dangerous. I heard they're putting guards at Hogwarts this year because of it. While I think that's a bit much, I sort of understand. Escaping from Azkaban is a big deal. It's supposed to be impossible; the dementors keep the prisoners weak enough, and even if they manage to escape their cell, they're on an island surrounded by magical waters. Black must be intelligent and insane, if he was able to slip through all of that.
My mum said to keep this letter short, since my last one was about a million bloody words long. She doesn't understand all the LOVE I HAVE!
Write back immediately,
Just kidding but not really,
OKAY, my mum just hit me, I am kidding, write back whenever you want to,
LOVE,
Anthony Rickett. Your number one badger. Your second most handsome friend. (Yes, I am sadly putting myself below that snake fucker)
(I MEAN THAT ONE GUY, SORRY LUCY, PLEASE WRITE BACK)
•
Lucy's wrist was sore for days after she wrote back to her friends. As she sat in Mallory's shop, she rubbed it, grimacing.
She didn't know writing letters could be so hard. Most of them were lackluster at best— her responses were short, her jokes fell flat, and the longest one she'd written had been to Anthony, since she spent the entire time apologizing for not writing.
It was early in the morning, but she'd been so bored at Wool's that she decided to go to Mallory's anyway. Officially, she didn't have to do any work until noon. She would gladly have spent her time reading, but Eric was a huge idiot. She found herself stepping away from her homework every few minutes to help him find an ingredient or fix the cash register. He was a huge git about it, saying he didn't need her help, but the impatient line of customers said otherwise.
"You know that it's mostly Dark wizards who come to this shop, right?" Lucy grumbled, heaving herself out of her chair as Eric lost track of the green powder yet again. She stalked past him and pushed herself onto the counter behind him. She had to stand on it to reach the correct cupboard. "If you get their order wrong, there's a good chance they'll kill you."
"It's not my fault it's all unorganized," Eric scoffed.
Lucy shrugged. She could agree with him there. Mallory's system was a jumbled mess that only the woman herself fully understood. Lucy could sort of navigate it, but only because she spent most of last summer snooping through everything. Even still, Mallory had to stop her from accidentally poisoning herself all the time.
"Thank you for the suggestion," Mallory said scathingly from the back room. She stepped into view with her arms crossed over her chest. "I'm glad you're feeling helpful today, Eric. You can organize everything during your shift tomorrow."
Although Mallory wasn't the kindest boss, Lucy observed that she never forced Eric to give up one of his breaks, or make him work overtime. Whether this was because of her own moral conduct, or because she simply didn't want to see Eric more than she had to, Lucy wasn't sure.
Eric deflated. Mallory grinned at his crestfallen expression and looked over to Lucy. She rolled her eyes, seeing the girl on the counter. "Kid, get down from the damn countertop."
"Concerned, are you?" Lucy teased.
"More like I don't want dirt on my tables. Who do you think's going to clean that up later?"
"Me," Eric raised a hand.
Mallory stared at him, and then she shrugged. "In that case, feel free to stay up there as long as you want, kid."
Lucy gave a half-smile, taking the green powder from the cupboard. She hopped down, landing soundly, and turned to the spot where she stood. She took pity on Eric, even with how annoying he was. She cast a simple cleaning charm and handed him the powder.
He went back to work without another word.
Mallory shook her head. "You're too soft sometimes, Lucy. Come with me— I have a nefarious task that might toughen you up." She turned on her heel and retreated into the back room.
Lucy followed her. Since she robbed Alastor Moody, Mallory hadn't sent her out on any missions. It had only been a week, but still— she thought she was going to be making food from here on out. She didn't mind doing that sort of work, but she found it hard to focus after a while. If she wasn't busying herself with something difficult, unpleasant thoughts would trickle in. Just yesterday, Eric caught her staring teary-eyed at a green napkin, just because the color reminded her of a certain Slytherin.
He thought she was a lunatic for that one.
Lucy had a feeling that Mallory waited a few days because of her brief meeting with none other than the mass-murderer Sirius Black. She had, in fact, read the article Anthony sent her. She was incredibly confused after reading it.
By all means, the Sirius Black they described in the Daily Prophet would have torn Lucy to shreds the moment he saw her. He was a pureblood supremacist, the papers said, and he was unhinged and volatile. And yet, Sirius had been as casual as anyone could have been. Even while shivering, the way he sat in the alley implied that he was lounging. And what pureblood supremacist would bother to know about a television? If Sirius was that dangerous, wouldn't he have attacked her from the moment he suspected she was a muggleborn?
She still wasn't sure if he was innocent or not. All the evidence pointed to his guilt. But from what she saw, what she encountered, she didn't think Sirius Black was insane at all; he knew exactly what he was doing. She wouldn't meet him ever again, but secretly, she wished him the best of luck. She hoped he would succeed in his revenge plan, provided it was someone who deserved it.
"Go to Borgin and Burkes again, kid," Mallory said, shuffling through one of her drawers. Lucy waited patiently as the woman pulled out an envelope. Lucy took it into her hands, examining it. There was nothing remarkable about it, but it had a wax seal in the shape of a dragon's head. "And give him this. He'll give you an address for a flat somewhere in London. Once you get there, a wizard is going to show up. He'll give you a box. Do not open the box. Bring it back here when you're done."
This sounded more suspicious than her last outing...
She was getting excited.
"Alright," she agreed, putting the envelope in her bag.
"One more thing." Mallory took out a bundle of something small, wrapped in a handkerchief. "This is a Portkey. If you get into any trouble, unwrap this. This should be fairly straightforward; it's the trip that I'm worried about, not the contact. Merlin knows that you would manage to get run over by a dragon in the middle of the day."
"I've been to London on my own loads of times," Lucy said, offended.
"From what you've told me, last time you had the Dark Lord looking out for you."
Lucy flinched slightly, and Mallory immediately looked guilty. She hadn't gone into the full details from the woman yet, but she told her the basics of what happened last year. That the mysterious diary she was always writing in held Lord Voldemort, and he made her open the Chamber of Secrets. She hadn't said anything else, like how Tom had been her friend, too, but Mallory gathered that much from the way she spoke about it.
"Just be careful out there, okay?" Mallory said awkwardly, laying a hand on her shoulder. "You give me gray hairs sometimes."
Lucy half-smiled. "Yeah, yeah, I know... So can I go now?"
"Get out of here."
She shot the woman one last smile, then hurried out of the shop. She stopped to stick her tongue out at Eric, who in turn glared at her, but apart from that, she didn't stop for anything. Not even for the old hag at the bottom of Knockturn's steps, who called out to her as she passed. And certainly not for the shrunken head shop... She definitely didn't hesitate...
"Oh, Booooooorgin!" Lucy called, skipping into his empty store. She heard the man swear loudly from the back. To be a pest, she headed up to the counter and repeatedly rang the bell.
He stumbled out of the back room, his hands covered in a thick, purple substance. "Have some decency!" he snapped at her.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing at his hands.
"None of your ruddy business," he snapped. He vanished the substance a moment after, and she didn't dwell on it. She handed him the envelope. He took it in his hands, studying it. He didn't open it, but he scowled. "I suppose I'll be seeing a lot of you then?" he said disappointedly.
"Child labor is easy and oftentimes free," she informed him, knowing full well that Mallory paid her fairly. She couldn't tell Borgin that. Mallory had a reputation to uphold.
Borgin ignored her remark. He left the room for about a minute, and he came back with a red slip of paper and then a white card. "I'm only giving you one, so don't lose it," he warned.
The red paper didn't have anything written on it, but the card had an address in bold. She vaguely recognized the area; it was sort of near Wool's Orphanage, in the back-alleys of a nearby street. She shot Borgin the thumbs up before leaving the shop.
"Now... to buy a shrunken head or to not buy a shrunken head..." Lucy muttered. She stood in the middle of the street, deep in thought.
On one hand, it was useless and a waste of money. On the other hand, it'd be extremely funny to send one to Lucius Malfoy. Draco said not to send any more Dung Bombs— he never said anything about sending his father other, more disturbing items.
Sending a man a shrunken head was most likely illegal, but then again, so was slipping a young girl Lord Voldemort's diary.
Before she could take another step, someone bumped into her. She felt something tug at her bag, and she rolled her eyes. Another thief? She turned around to hex them, when suddenly, there was a loud snarling noise.
The hooded thief let out a loud cry as something large and black crashed into him, shoving him to the ground. Lucy watched, stunned, as a huge dog snarled in the man's face.
"Call it off— call it off!" the man begged. "Fuckin' hell, I'm sorry!"
Lucy eyed the huge dog warily. She wondered if it would eat him. She decided that it wasn't any of her business whether the dog would eat him or not, and so she walked away from the scene, holding her bag tighter.
Only to hear a soft patter of footsteps follow her.
She stopped, looking over her shoulder.
The dog sat down and wagged its tail, panting at her. Its ears were perked up almost hopefully. Behind it, the thief ran away, nursing a bleeding arm.
"Er— hello?" Lucy said cautiously. She hoped to Merlin she wouldn't have to use the Portkey because a dog attacked her. Mallory would never let her hear the end of it.
The dog let out a soft bark and stood up, walking closer to her. It sat down again, wagging its tail.
"Okay then." She shrugged and started walking. Again, she heard footsteps following her. She walked about ten feet further before she stopped again, and now, the dog was walking right at her side. She gave it a pained look. "Please... I can't bring a dog to Hogwarts... I can't..."
The dog whimpered at her.
Lucy decided she'd die for it.
"Fine! You've twisted my arm about it!" she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "You can walk with me, for now."
The dog let out a happy bark. She continued on her way, this time with a huge, black dog walking beside her. She tried not to pay too much attention to the dog— she didn't want to get attached— but it was kind of hard when the dog snarled at any hooded figure that got too close.
"It's going to be a bit of a walk," she warned the dog. It wasn't deterred in the slightest, keeping pace with her. "As in, I'm going to the middle of London and then back, and then back to London." Again, the dog only barked at her. "It's your funeral, girl..."
The dog whined at her. Lucy couldn't help but laugh. What was with the wizarding world and having such intuitive animals? "Not a fan of girl, then? So you're a boy?" The dog barked in affirmation. "Alright, boy."
She found that the rest of the journey was easy, if not entertaining, with the giant dog walking beside her. She couldn't help but worry a little. For his size, her new companion was awfully thin. His fur was matted and dirty, and yet, he was very well behaved. She wondered if his owner abandoned him somewhere.
No— she had to stop getting attached. This was a giant dog. She was not going to get away with sneaking him to Hogwarts.
...But, if she had to, she would try.
"Did you know that Wool's Orphanage was nearly destroyed in World War II?" Lucy mentioned as she and the dog walked past the grim building. He tilted his head at her questioningly. Talking to animals wasn't absurd for her; she had whole conversations with Grayble and Snape loads of times. Ford didn't count, since she could speak his language.
"Yeah, a bomb dropped right next to it. Everyone evacuated to the countryside by the, so no one was injured. They rebuilt the west wing within a month." She stared at the building, imagining what it might have looked like back then; it was hard to picture the smoldering rubble when she walked through the halls every single day. Then, she imagined a boy in the distance, watching the burning rubble.
She was once again reminded of the fact that the same boy who heard bombs rain down on the city of London was Lord Voldemort. The darkest lord history had ever seen grew up in the exact same room as she did; he discovered the same secret passages, and he likely carried with him the same boredom.
"Tom told me that," she said quietly, feeling her chest constrict.
The dog made a questioning sort of whine. By now, they'd passed the orphanage and were heading across the intersection. Passerbys sent her strange looks on account of her intimidating companion, but she didn't mind.
"He told me loads of things. He used to steal from people looking to adopt the other children; he hid the money underneath a floorboard." Lucy didn't know why she was rambling. Perhaps it was because the dog was a good listener; he wouldn't judge her, like anyone else.
She smiled ruefully at the pavement. "He used to show me through London, just like you're doing."
He'd have been pleased to do it, too. He always loved showing off, being helpful, being the leader. He would have been annoyed that she picked up a stray dog. Her smile faded, shoving her hands in her pockets. She was very aware of the empty feeling around her, where Tom used to reside.
"I miss him," she admitted softly.
The dog whined, and suddenly, she felt something wet on her wrist. She looked down to see him resting his nose on her, tilting his head. Despite herself, she laughed. What an adorable dog.
"You're growing on me," she decided, taking her hand out to scratch him behind the ear. He barked happily and licked at her hand.
At last, she reached the address Borgin gave her. Looking around, she couldn't see anyone else on the street, or any cars for that matter. The flats were pressed together, and the windows in odd places. She wondered if this was a wizarding street. She knocked on the door, but as soon as she did, there was a loud pop! from behind her.
The dog started growling. She turned around, seeing a man standing in front of her, dressed in seemingly muggle clothes. He said nothing, holding his hand out expectantly.
"You're very dramatic," Lucy informed him.
He pretended as though he hadn't heard her.
Rolling her eyes, she withdrew the red slip of paper from her pocket and dropped it into his hand. He turned it over, examining it.
He nodded at her; she heard the creaking of the door opening behind her. She looked to see the door opening on its own, and when she turned back, the wizard was gone.
"Wizards are so dramatic," she complained.
The dog barked in agreement.
She headed into the flat, trying not to get distracted by the ransacked mess it was. If the entire street was abandoned, then what had happened here? She spotted a few stained potions books peeking out from a toppled bookshelf. Dark splatters of something— probably old blood— coated the wall near the kitchen. So it was a wizarding community.
Curious, she picked up one of the books and turned it over in her hands.
"1979," she said, letting out a low whistle. She glanced at the dog, who had his head tilted at her. "Looks like our pal Moldevort must have attacked this street."
He made an unhappy noise and lay on the floor.
"Yeah, what a git, am I right?"
While she was still feeling very nosy, she supposed she had better stop wasting time. She ventured into the kitchen, ignoring the blood stains, and spotted the box sitting on the table. She took the box into her hands and stowed it away in her bag for now. She was, in fact, very tempted to open it.
The return trip was surprisingly pleasant. Lucy talked about all sorts of things. This time, she strayed away from talking about Tom. Instead she told the dog all about how she met Mallory and how brilliant she thought the woman was. He was a great conversationalist, and he paused only to growl at suspicious people walking by. She wasn't sure how many of them were actually dangerous, or if he just liked to be threatening, but she was amused either way.
When she walked into Mallory's shop, the woman looked up from a copy of the Daily Prophet. Sirius Black was still on the front page, but it was the exact same information as the last time. Surely, they had to swap it out eventually?
"Hey, kid—" Mallory greeted. She spotted the dog and let the newspaper drop out of her hands. "Oh, for Salazar's sake, why do you have a dog?!"
"What dog?" Lucy blinked at her.
Mallory glared.
Before Lucy ended up with a stinging hex, she said, "ANYWAY— I have brought crimes with me!" She took the box out of her bag and placed it proudly on Mallory's table. "And more importantly, I've formed a friendship to last a lifetime!"
Mallory muttered under her breath as she picked the box up. "When I come back, that dog better be out of my building," she warned.
Lucy looked at her innocently.
Mallory left, and so she went behind the counter and began to make a sandwich. She added lots of meat on it, staying away from the cheese and other sauces. She placed a few coins into the register once she was done. Then, she grabbed a plate and set the sandwich on the floor in front of the dog.
The dog gave a cheerful bark and promptly devoured it.
Mallory came back at that exact moment. "What the hell— I said get it out of here, not feed it! You know you can't have dogs at Hogwarts!"
"But look at him! He's so cute!" Lucy whined, reaching over to hug him. The dog whined back at her and placed two of his paws on her shoulders.
Mallory gave her a disgusted look. "It's filthy. Can you imagine the diseases that thing has?"
"He is not filthy, he's just adventurous!"
"You already have three pets—"
"Ford is not a pet, he's a friend, and Snape is his own owl—" Lucy protested. The dog gave her a very strange look when she said that. She stopped herself, frowning. "Wait, why am I defending myself? He's not going to live here."
"And I bet your orphanage will be happy that you've brought a giant mutt with you?" Mallory said sarcastically.
"Not if they don't catch me," Lucy countered, but she was beginning to realize that Mallory was right. The staff overlooked, or ignored, a lot of things about Lucy, but she doubted they would stand for a huge, vaguely terrifying stray dog in the building. They allowed some pets like cats, rabbits, and mice, but never anything too big.
She frowned, thinking of what to do.
"Alright, boy," Lucy said, once the dog was finished eating. "I unfortunately cannot sneak you into Wool's... but, if you come back here tomorrow, I can get you something to eat. Do we have a deal?"
She held out her hand, and without hesitation, he put his paw into hers.
They shook on it.
True to her word, Lucy returned to Diagon Alley every single day.
Even when she was bone-tired and didn't get a wink of sleep, she made up her mind to check on the new dog, no matter what. Every day at noon, he'd pad his way to Mallory's shop door and she'd leave him a huge sandwich and a bowl of water. Sometimes he stuck around, but other times he'd leave again. Lucy was the same way.
Mallory slowly resigned herself to the fact that Lucy now had a stray dog. Part of the reason why she allowed him inside was because Eric hated dogs and she thought it was hilarious how the dog growled at him all the time. Lucy was pleased, both because she liked him, and because she thought it was a shame that such a great dog didn't have a home.
And yet, she hadn't named him yet. She was already attached, but she didn't want to make it worse for when she left for Hogwarts. Unless she found a way to smuggle the dog onto the train— which she didn't think she could do, with all the added guards Anthony told her about— she was going to have to leave the dog in Diagon Alley.
For the time being, she tried to enjoy her time here. Distract herself by talking to the dog and practicing spells. Try and do anything but focus on the lingering weight in her chest.
Today, her dog decided to stick around, snoozing at her feet as she sat at one of Mallory's tables. She was hard at work. The table was coated with glitter and scraps of paper, and so were her hands, for that matter. Harry's birthday was tomorrow, and she intended to surprise him.
Mallory tried not to comment on the fact that her restaurant was now resembling an arts and crafts center by how much effort Lucy was putting into this birthday card. The woman sat at a nearby table, working on paperwork for who-knows-what.
"How do you spell Ophidiophobia?" Lucy asked, using a sticking charm to put a picture of a snake inside the card.
Mallory snorted. "How the hell would I know?"
Lucy sighed, leaning back in her chair. Tom would know.
Mallory sent her a cautious glance. She knew that brooding expression all too well. She muttered to herself, trying to spell it out for herself. "O-P-H-I-D-I-O-P-H-O-B-I-A," she said after a few moments. "Now why the hell do you need to spell that?"
"It's Harry's birthday tomorrow," she explained, scribbling down the word. "Since everyone thought we were the Heirs, I'm making him a personalized card, fit only for the Heir of Slytherin."
The dog woke up to stare at her, confused.
She shrugged at him. "You had to be there."
She put the finishing touches on the card and then sat back, beaming at it. The outside was as Gryffindorish as possible, but on the inside, she made it emerald green. There were a few pictures of snakes glued inside. She wrote with yellow glitter:
Happy Birthday, Halazar!
I hope you have the most Ambitious of days and wish many more days of Cunningness upon you.
Sincerely, your fellow Heir,
Lucille the Deathbringer
He was going to be very annoyed with her.
"I'm going to go and mail this, Mallory," Lucy said, starting to clean up her mess. She vanished the remaining glitter and deposited the scraps into the trash bin.
Mallory waved at her, and she left for Wool's Orphanage.
The next evening, Lucy lay on her stomach, reading out of Riddle's Book. She knew she shouldn't since it was Voldemort's book, but she couldn't help it. He was a brilliant wizard, and even if she hadn't known him, she still would have been drawn to this book. Plus, there was the added excitement that no one had ever opened it. It was password protected; and out of all the names Voldemort could have used for it, he chose Gaunt. Perhaps it was more of a secret that he descended from the Gaunts than the Riddles. She felt sort of silly for not looking into it when Tom first told her about the book, but there was nothing to be done now.
She'd already made her trip to Diagon Alley for the day. She was surprised and worried to note that the dog hadn't shown up that day. He was a stray, so maybe he wandered a bit further than usual today. She tried not to dwell on it too much.
Lucy wanted to visit Harry for his birthday, but early that morning, Hedwig arrived at her window with a note attached to her leg. Apparently, Harry's evil Aunt Marge was visiting and Harry had to act as normal as possible for a week, or else the Dursleys wouldn't sign his Hogsmeade slip. She was very tempted to show up anyway and torment all the Dursleys, but she knew that would only end badly for her friend. He requested that she keep Hedwig for at least a week, too.
Unlike her friends, Lucy didn't even receive a permission slip. She had a strong feeling it was because she technically didn't have any legal guardians. She tried not to let it bother her, but she was a little disappointed. Except for Diagon Alley, she hadn't been in any wizarding areas; she had no idea what a magical village was like.
Oh, well. As long as her friends had fun, she was happy.
"Hedwig, please stop glaring at me," Lucy groaned. She looked up to meet the snowy owl's gaze. Hedwig liked her and all, but she seemed disappointed that Lucy hadn't made the trip to Privet Drive yet. "I can't visit him now! He has to act like a muggle for a week. If I show up, they'd likely call the bloody cops on me. If anyone can act like a muggle, it's Harry—"
At that moment, there was a tapping noise on her window.
The blood froze in her veins. Images of Montague lingering outside her window flashed through her mind, and crackling red light crept into the sides of her vision. Sucking in a deep breath, she reached for her wand. Don't be him, don't be him, don't be him, she pleaded, racing over to the window.
She half expected to see his face staring at her, but to her surprise, there was nothing. She opened the window.
A rock hit her in the forehead.
"Ow— what the!" Lucy stumbled back, clamping a hand over her head.
"Sorry!" an anxious voice called from below her.
She pulled her hand away. Wait... there was no way— was that Harry?!
"Harry— what are you—?" Lucy gaped at the sight of her best friend standing below her window, holding his trunk and an empty owl cage in his arms. He smiled at her, but she could tell he was nervous. She couldn't help but let out an incredulous laugh. Out of all the things... "Stay there," she told him. "I'm coming down."
She slipped on her boots and her coat in record time. With her wand in her hand, she hurried through the empty halls of her orphanage. She had to stop once to hide from an orderly, but she'd long since mastered the art of escaping Wool's Orphanage. It wasn't long before she slipped through the front doors, running around the building to meet Harry. She stood in front of him, beaming.
He set his things on the ground. She lunged forward, capturing him in a hug.
"Happy birthday!" she said happily.
He laughed weakly. "Thanks, Luce... I just took the Knight's Bus here— didn't know where else to go."
She frowned at the anxious note in his voice. She pulled away, keeping her hands on his shoulders. "Is there something wrong? What happened? Who do I need to kill?" she added that last part in an ominous tone.
"No one, no one!" he said quickly. He chewed on his lower lip and mumbled something.
Lucy didn't quite catch what he said. "What?"
"I... uh..." he repeated it, and once again, she didn't hear him.
"Harry, mate, you're going to have to speak up."
"I blew up my aunt, okay?! I blew up my aunt!"
Lucy stared at him. "Pardon?"
"You should have heard her," Harry said furiously. "All the awful things they were saying about my parents— that they were drunks and got themselves killed— I lost control, and she started floating! I had to get out of there— I- I've had enough of the Dursleys."
Perhaps visiting them wouldn't have been such a bad idea after all.
"She deserved it, then," Lucy decided. She wasn't too worried about what Harry did to his aunt; she was more concerned for her friend's wellbeing at the moment. His jeans were ripped, and she noticed that his palm was bleeding.
"But I broke the law— aren't they going to send me to Azkaban?"
Lucy paused. She hadn't thought about that. She didn't think the ministry would send someone to prison over accidental magic, but then again, they sent Hagrid to a very dangerous prison as a precaution. She didn't have a lot of faith in magical law enforcement at the moment.
"I don't think so," she said slowly. "It was an accident, so they'll likely give you a warning. And if they try, I don't know, we'll go on the run or something. See how well they fare without you the next time old Voldy decides to make a mess of things."
Hedwig swooped down from her window, landon on Harry's arm and covering him with soft pecks. He smiled and scratched under the bird's chin. He looked a lot less nervous now.
"So— this is where you live, then?" Harry asked, turning his gaze to the building.
Lucy scowled at the sight of it. The infamous Wool's Orphanage, where she spent eleven measly years of her life. "Yeah. There's nothing special about it," she muttered.
"Voldemort lived here," Harry said. He looked regretful as soon as the words left his mouth. She tried not to flinch; it was a sound observation, and it was only natural he'd be interested.
"Yeah, he did. He hated it, too," she said. Her throat felt dry. She coughed once, clearing her throat. "C'mon— as much as I'd love to bunk with you, we can't stay here. The other kids would snitch on me in a heartbeat. We can go to the Leaky Cauldron, for now."
She started walking toward the front gates. Harry caught up to her, holding his wand. "Should I call the Knight's Bus again?" he asked.
"The what—?" she started to ask, before shaking her head. "It's not too far a walk from here. Besides, we don't want to leave a trail, remember? We're on the run."
"We're not on the run, Lucy," Harry sighed.
"Not yet, we're not! But a few crimes along the way can quickly fix that problem—"
"Do not—"
They fell into their usual bickering along the way to the Leaky Cauldron. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone was looking at them, but oddly, it didn't unnerve her. It wasn't the wrong sort of watching, like she felt when Montague and his creep squad were stalking her. More like... careful observing. It was strange, and she tried not to think about it.
Harry had just been telling her about his most recent essay, when he stopped mid sentence. "D'you feel that too?" he said quietly, peering over his shoulder. She followed his gaze. Nothing was there.
"Yeah," she whispered back. "We're safe, as long as we've got our wands."
"I saw something strange, before the Knight's bus came," he whispered. He hurriedly described the huge, glowing eyed beast.
She looked at him thoughtfully. She'd seen a few omens in Riddle's Book. Voldemort was, surprisingly, sort of superstitious.
"It's the Grim, Harry. I'm sorry to say that you're going to die very soon."
Harry scowled, hitting her on the arm. "Don't joke about that! I was thinking it could have been... Well. it's stupid, but you've heard about Sirius Black? If he's loose, maybe we should—"
"I don't think he'll be bothering us anytime soon, Harry," Lucy answered, so firmly that he stared at her with surprise. She looked away with a grimace. "Uh... promise you won't freak out?"
Harry suddenly looked very, very suspicious. "Lucy... you're not telling me...?"
"...That I may have run into Sirius Black this summer?"
"LUCY!"
Harry didn't even sound angry, he just sounded done. She threw up her hands in defense. "I didn't go out looking for him! I just happened to have robbed an Auror—"
"What—"
"And ducked into an alleyway to escape from him—"
"What—"
"And he was sitting across from me—"
"WHAT—?!"
"AND WE HAD A LOVELY CHAT!" Lucy finished loudly.
Harry put his face in his hands, groaning. "Why? Why is it always you? You managed to make both Voldemorts like you, and now a mass-murderer?"
"I'm a likeable person, Harry!"
"Believe me, I know! What— what did you two talk about, then?"
"Well, he told me he was innocent." Harry shot her a flat look. "I know, that's what they all say! And I'm not saying he's innocent— but, well, he didn't seem insane in the slightest. He asked me if I was a muggleborn, and he didn't sound disgusted by it at all. It was weird, Harry. But don't worry, I made sure he wasn't Voldemort this time."
"And I thought I had bad luck," Harry muttered. He shook his head, looking back at her. "Well, I'm glad you haven't died yet. Be careful, Luce. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I reckon Sirius Black is more dangerous than Voldemort at the moment."
"Believe me, I'm not about to go looking for him again," Lucy sighed. She was still curious about him, but she'd caused enough trouble last year; she needn't get herself caught up in the affairs of murderers again.
Once they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, they paused. Standing in front of the door was a familiar, short round man with a lime green bowler hat. Lucy and Harry shared an exasperated look. Really? The minister? She didn't want to have to curse the magical minister in order to keep her friend from going to Azkaban, but she would if she had to.
"There you are, Harry!" Minister Fudge called, nearly slumping with relief as they walked hesitantly closer to him.
"Hello?" Harry said warily.
He motioned with his hand for them, more specifically Harry, to follow him into the pub. "Come with me, quickly now," he said, wringing his hands together.
"Hold on, how do I know you're not Sirius Black?" Lucy said suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at the man. She knew he wasn't, but Harry wasn't supposed to have met the minister yet. He'd been under an Invisibility Cloak the entire time.
Fudge blinked at her. "My dear girl, we've met before!"
"I really don't think we have."
"In Mr. Hagrid's hut—"
"Oh, right!" she said, clamping a hand over her forehead. "You were arresting my friend! How silly of me."
Fudge didn't know how to reply to that. Harry elbowed her in the side, shaking his head at her. She held back a grin and allowed him to tug her into the Leaky Cauldron after the minister.
"You've got him, Minister!" Tom, the bartender beamed at the three of them. He winked at Lucy. "Didn't expect you here so late, Lucy. Will you three be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?"
"Yes," Lucy said, at the same time as the Minister said, "A pot of tea, please."
"That one's trouble, Minister. Better watch out for her," Tom warned playfully.
Fudge was beginning to realize that one for himself. "And a private parlour, please," he added pointedly.
Tom led them down a passageway that Lucy hadn't even known existed. Then again, she never stayed in the Leaky Cauldron for long; she only used it to get to Diagon Alley. Tom snapped his fingers once they arrived in the parlour. An orange fire ignited within the grate, and he then left the room.
Harry and Lucy sat in the two seats across from the Minister.
Fudge took off his cloak, tossing it to the side. Lucy gave him a strange look for that one but decided not to comment on it, given Harry's pointed look at her. The Minister then sat down across from them, folding his hands on the table.
"I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry. The Minister of Magic."
The bartender came back, setting a tray of tea and crumpets on the table. Fudge didn't even glance at him. Lucy rolled her eyes and said pointedly to Tom, "Thank you, Tom. You're brilliant and I appreciate you."
"You're too kind to me sometimes, Ms. Rochester. I've brought your favorite," he said, and he slid her a mug of butterbeer. She tried not to cringe.
As soon as Tom left, Lucy swapped her drink with Harry's. "Try it," she whispered to him.
Hesitantly, her friend took a drink. Only for his eyes to light up with joy. At least one of them liked the taste.
"Well, Harry," Fudge said, as Harry took another drink of his butterbeer. "You've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think..." he trailed off and cleared his throat. "But you're safe, and that's what matters."
He pushed a plate of crumpets toward Harry, who didn't so much as glance at them.
"Eat, Harry, you look dead on your feet. Now then... you will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss. Marjorie Dursley—"
"What a shame," Lucy muttered to Harry, who snorted into his butterbeer.
Fudge's lips thinned, but he otherwise pretended he hadn't heard her. "Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done."
"Great," Harry said, awkwardly.
"And, in even better news— your aunt and uncle are prepared to take you back for the next summer. They are very angry, I won't deny, but as long as you stay at Hogwarts for Christmas and Easter holidays, all is forgiven."
Harry's grip on his drink tightened. "I don't ever want to go back to Privet Drive," he said firmly.
"Come now— I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've calmed down," Fudge said. He was beginning to look worried. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are fond of each other— er— very deep down."
"You've met them, Minister," Lucy said, giving him a clearly fake smile. "What do you think?"
"They're only caught up in their emotions, is all," Fudge said. She could see straight through him; he knew that Harry's relatives didn't like him in the slightest. Then why, if he was so fond of Harry, would he not want him anywhere else? Lucy narrowed her eyes at the man. He cleared his throat again, returning his attention to Harry, whose stare was decidedly less venomous. "So all that remains is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your vacation. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron, and..."
"Hang on," Harry said abruptly. "I'm not in any trouble?"
Fudge blinked. "What for?"
"I broke the law! The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!"
"Laws, Shmaws," Lucy dismissed, waving a hand. "They're only written sentences, Harry. I wouldn't take any of them seriously."
Fudge gave her a concerned look. "Er— yes, many of them should be taken seriously, Ms. Rochester— but Harry, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that! It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!"
Harry was still skeptical. "Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house. The Ministry said I'd be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic there!"
Lucy raised her eyebrows. She never got any warnings, and she'd done little bits of wandless magic loads of times. Maybe it was because it wasn't accidental? She wasn't sure.
"Circumstances change, Harry," Fudge said awkwardly. "We have to take into account... in the present climate... surely, you don't want to be expelled?"
"I'd give a stab at it, personally—" Lucy began.
Harry picked a cup of tea off the table and forced it into her hands. "Drink," he said exasperatedly, before she could get herself in trouble. She drank it. Not because Harry told her to do it, but because she wanted to. "Of course we don't want to be expelled."
"Well, then, what's all the fuss about?" Fudge laughed. "Now, have a crumpet, Harry, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you."
Fudge left the room, leaving Harry and Lucy alone.
He turned to give her a stern look. "You can't treat the Minister like you treat Snape and Lockhart! You're going to get into serious trouble that way."
"Harry, my boy, part of my charm is that no one is safe from ridicule," Lucy snickered. "Besides— that man's a total joke!"
"I know, but he's still the Minister."
She shrugged. In her eyes, just because he was an official of the law didn't mean that she'd give him a pass. If he was annoying, she would be annoying back. She was a fair and just menace.
"Room eleven's free, Harry," Fudge said, entering the room with Tom the innkeeper. "I think you'll be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand... I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me."
"Okay," Harry said suspiciously. "But why?"
"Don't want to lose you again, do we?" Fudge said, chuckling nervously. "No, no, best we know where you are... I mean..."
"In that case—" Lucy stood up from the table and downed her tea quickly, setting it back down. "I'm bloody tired. See you around, Harry, Tom." She stared at Fudge and squinted at him. "And... pardon, who are you again?"
"Bye, Lucy!" Harry said loudly, shoving her toward the doorway as Fudge shot her an extremely offended look.
"Lucy, it's dangerous at night!" The innkeeper called after her.
She was already walking down the passageway by now. "Danger is my middle name!" she called over her shoulder.
"It's definitely not!" Harry's faint voice called after her.
She shook her head, grinning. She was glad that Harry didn't have to spend the rest of summer at Privet Drive, and now that he was in Diagon Alley, they could hang out until term began. She grew excited at the thought. She could stay at the Leaky Cauldron too, but... Despite how maddening Wool's Orphanage was, it was one of the few things that linked her to Tom. It was their room. She didn't want to give up that claim, not now, at least...
She shoved her hands in her pockets, humming to herself on the walk home. She had just crossed the street, when she heard a familiar padding noise follow behind her.
She turned her head, grinning at her dog. He looked very tired, but he ran up to her and put his nose on her hand. She scratched behind his ear. "Hey, boy. You look like you've had an adventure."
He barked once. She took that as a yes.
Lucy recounted her night to her eager companion from beginning to end: Harry showing up, their discussion about Sirius Black, and she included her many opinions of Fudge. When she finished, she stared thoughtfully at the night sky.
"I've been reading a lot about Divination lately," she said. They'd arrived at Wool's gates, and the dog was about to leave. He paused, turning his head to look at her. "Omens and such. Most of them are neat, but I think it's a bit maddening to keep track of them all. But— one of them reminded me of you. And you know what, boy? I think I've finally come up with a name."
He tilted his head at her, wagging his tail.
"Grimm," she said proudly, putting her hands on her hips. "I think I'll call you Grimm."
Just then, the dog started barking— and she didn't know whether it was her imagination, or if she was deliriously tired— but it sounded remarkably like a laugh.