Lucille was always a troublesome young girl. At least, to Mrs. Cole she was.
In all the years Nancy Cole worked at Wool's Orphanage, she'd say that only two occupants managed to make her rethink how much she valued the money promised to her when she retired. She was not unkind, only strict and had zero tolerance. Of course, she'd have to admit that Lucille was preferred to The Boy.
No matter how much Nancy Cole begged headmaster Albus Dumbledore, he still refused to take The Boyforever. Each summer he'd return to Wool's Orphanage until he turned sixteen (That was when he disappeared), and after she'd had decades of peace.
Then along came Lucille.
Nancy wasn't naturally a very superstitious person. She didn't believe in ghosts or vampires or any of that nonsense, but she truly believed that Lucille had something off about her. She had a near undetectable vibe of dark roots.
"I don't know why you insist on the children you come for. Honestly, Mr. Dumbledore, she's a bad one — just like the last one you took."
"Perhaps," Albus hummed thoughtfully. "But perhaps not. Tell me, Mrs. Cole, is there any concerns I should be aware of?"
Mrs. Cole sniffed. "Well, she's no Tom Riddle, but she's out of control! Leaves her bedsheets tied to the rafters, steals knives from the kitchen to carve on her bedposts, makes Jennifer Bishop go spitting mad, and a few years ago a man came to adopt her — said his name was something along the lines of Lucy as well — and she disappeared for three weeks! Oh, Mr. Dumbledore, we had the whole town looking for her, and then she shows up at breakfast without a scratch on her. Wouldn't even tell us where she'd gone off to!"
Albus gazed at Mrs. Cole over his crescent-moon spectacles. It was rare that he personally visited wizards, but the circumstances here called for urgency. Every time he thought of the convict's child, he thought of one far worse. He pictured a young girl with cruel, piercing gray eyes and a wardrobe full of stolen goods: a young girl with sleek, black hair; a young girl who was the picture of evil.
He knew that he of all people should be the one who didn't judge someone based on their past, but he rationalized that it was better to be safe man than a sorry one. And for a long time, a sorry man he had been. Albus dismissed Mrs. Cole before he walked in, peering around for Lucille.
It wasn't hard to find her. The girl's appearance demanded attention.
She sat in her desk chair leaning on its back two legs, and on her face balanced three pencils and a spoon. As soon as the door opened, Lucille tipped back and onto a mattress laid out on the floor. She scrambled to her feet and stared at Albus long and hard, half in shock and half in awe.
"Your beard is bloody awesome! How'd you even get it that long? Did you start growing one the moment you came out of the womb or something?"
Albus Dumbledore suddenly felt that the phrase 'eat your words' had been constructed specifically for him.
Lucille was a small thing, her skin a tanned-golden color from what looked to be plenty of sun from the holidays. He spotted no resemblance to her parents; golden hair trailed down to her shoulders and her eyes were a warm brown. She kept those brown eyes trained on Albus curiously.
"You're too kind, Lucille," said Albus. "My name is Professor Dumbledore, and I'm here to offer you a place at my school."
"Professor?" Lucille furrowed her eyebrows a bit, then smiled widely. "Cool! You're a shrink!" She exclaimed loudly.
The two could hear Mrs. Cole groaning from down the hall; she'd heard Lucille's proclamation, and she was evidently distressed about it.
Albus chuckled and shook his head. "No, I'm not a 'shrink' as you put it."
"Oh. So you're a teacher," she sighed in disappointment. The differences were already clear to him. The Boy had snapped at him, demanded that he tell the truth, whereas Lucille reacted optimistically with a bubbly attitude. Still, he had to be wary. "Are any other kids attending? Please don't tell me Jennifer is invited," Lucille pleaded.
"No, no, I'm quite sure it's just you," Dumbledore assured her. At last, he let himself draw up a chair from a neighboring desk, and he sat down, grimacing a bit at the strain on his leg. He shouldn't have gotten so close to Fluffy... "Now, Lucille — "
She pulled a face. Dumbledore suppressed a frown, nostalgia hitting him hard. He chose the phrasing of his next words carefully.
"You dislike the name 'Lucille'?"
She shook her head. "Lucille's a brilliant name. Just too formal. I like Lucy more."
"Alright, Lucy," Dumbledore said without pausing. Lucy beamed at this. "As I was saying: Hogwarts is not a school for ordinary people. It is, rather, a school for gifted individuals. Hogwarts is a school for Magic."
Lucy stared at him, stunned. She narrowed her eyes scrutinizingly, searching for any hint of him joking. From what she could see, the man appeared one hundred percent serious. "You're... you're not kidding?"
"Not in the slightest. Should you accept this invitation, you will need some supplies — "
"Wait, how do I know this isn't a joke?"
Patiently, Dumbledore withdrew his wand from his pocket and pointed it at her bed, and with a pop, it turned into a gray kitten in front of her. He made to turn it back, but Lucy grabbed onto his arm, giving him a begging look. "Please don't change it back! Who needs a bed, anyways? I have a matress on the floor!" She pleaded.
Dumbledore laughed, yet Lucy picked up an odd amount of relief in it. "Hogwarts allows cats as pets, so you are in luck. However, as it came from a bed, I'm not sure how it'll behave."
The cat fell asleep in her arms a second later.
"Well, I'd expect it'd do a lot of sleeping, sir," Lucy grinned.
Dumbledore smiled also, then cleared his throat. "Mrs. Cole has told me of some concerns she has in regards to your behavior."
At once, Lucy appeared sullen. "If this is about Jennifer, she's a great bullying git who thinks she's so great because she's the only one with a living mother."
"And the bedsheets tied to the rafters?"
"All good pirate ships need sails, Professor," Lucy told him solemnly.
"Disappearing for three weeks?"
"The guy trying to adopt me was a blonde prat who kept this creepy woman by his side. I'd rather stay an orphan with no surname, thanks."
"Knives stolen from the kitchen?" He added.
Lucy sighed. "Okay, that one sounds really bad, and I don't know what was up with that myself. I just got excited and wanted to carve into wood."
Dumbledore nodded as though he understood, then fixed her with a stern look. "At Hogwarts, cutting things up out of excitement is frowned upon, and I expect that habit to be broken by September 1st."
Lucy gulped and nodded.
"As I stated before, you'll need certain supplies before you attend Hogwarts. It's come to my understanding that you have no money, so we will use the school one to provide for you."
"You're coming with, professor?" Lucy asked.
"Me?" Dumbledore chuckled. "No, I'm the headmaster of Hogwarts. I'll already be back at school by then. This Friday I'll send another professor to assist you. Have you any more questions?"
"Only pointless ones," Lucy assured him.
With that, Dumbledore bid her a good day and left Wool's Orphanage for the second time. The last words he heard were shrill and sudden from a harassed-sounding Mrs. Cole.
"WHERE IN GOD'S NAME DID YOU PUT YOUR BED?!"