The older Hufflepuffs were more than welcoming when it came to meeting new people, but despite how surreal being at Hogwarts at last was, she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that she was separated from her first real friends. Ron had unsurprisingly made it into Gryffindor despite his worries, and Lucy had made it into the house she'd been hoping for in the first place. But she didn't quite understand what the hat meant when it said she'd be a good Slytherin. From what Ron said about the house, she figured it'd be best to keep that small fact to herself.
Lucy looked up as Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet and beamed at everyone. "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."
She clapped loudly, feeling a little confused but not exactly surprised. He'd acted strange when she'd first met him, but he'd also been a little cautious for some unfathomable reason. Lucy couldn't dwell on it for much longer; before her eyes, the golden and silver platters appeared, filled up with more food than she'd ever seen in her entire life. The orphanage provided them food, but it was rare that anyone enjoyed it. They stopped buying quality ingredients before she was old enough to appreciate it, and except from holidays, the children were served porridge or oatmeal for breakfast, mostly gruel or boiled hamburger patties for lunch, and canned goods or leftover lunch for dinner. It stopped tasting bad after awhile; by the time Lucy turned eight, she couldn't really taste her meals anymore.
"This is just like my dad's cooking," Megan Jones sighed happily as she scooped more scalloped potatoes onto her plate.
Hannah Abbott smiled from beside Susan Bones. "My mum says that if Hogwarts had a restaurant, we'd never make anything ourselves. I wouldn't mind either; Mum's a terrible cook."
Megan turned to face Lucy, who was busy gazing up at the floating candles in awe. "What about you?" She asked, not wanting to exclude her. "Are your parents good or bad at cooking?"
She could feel her face heat up and she looked away from Megan. She directed her attention up to the bewitched ceiling trying not to let her face betray the sinking feeling in her chest. Should she tell them..? No. She'd only ruin the mood. Only Harry and Ron needed to know, for now.
"They're amazing cooks," she replied, swallowing a lump in her throat as she imagined a blonde haired woman holding a batch of cupcakes. "I've never had anything better, not even here."
Though her stomach growled in protest, Lucy pushed her plate away from her. She didn't feel that hungry anymore.
The boy she laughed at, Wayne, was the only one who looked suspicious that something was amiss, and he stared at Lucy with his head tilted curiously. She met his gaze, staring back with her expression stoic and unreadable. Don't ask, she commanded mentally.
It was an older student who broke up their staring match with a load groan.
"Funny that you lot are all talking about food instead of eating it yourselves!" He exclaimed. The elder boy had light brown hair sticking up messily, reminding Lucy of Harry's unruly style of his own. He squeezed himself between Lucy and Hannah and began piling food onto everyone's plate. "Where's your food then, blondie?" he asked Lucy, elbowing her gently in the side.
Before she could respond, he grabbed a clean plate and started to load it up with a little of everything. "Far too skinny," he said, shaking his head at her. "I won't have any of my ducklings starving! Not on my watch!"
"Ducklings?" Lucy repeated, trying not to laugh as she reluctantly bit off the top of a green bean.
"Yes, small ones. I am your leader; may you all grow up to be as strong and manly - or womanly in your case - as me —"
"Are you done with your lecture, Anthony?" a girl called from down the table.
Another boy with dark hair grinned at her. "Lecture? If you ask me, that sounded more like a battle speech."
"Yes, yes," Anthony waved a dismissive hand at them. "Don't go near Cedric Diggory, children. He's a nasty third year. Stay away from third years."
"You're a fourth year," Cedric pointed out. "And I'll be the same age as you in a month."
"Silence! I'm trying to feed my children!"
He looked over at everyone sternly, but he focused directly on Lucy who was still nibbling on the same green bean as five minutes ago. "Are you a badger or a rabbit, woman?!"
"I thought I was a duckling," Lucy retorted smartly.
Anthony paused, thinking this over as Cedric snickered into his pumpkin juice. "Sassy one, I see. Hmm... you, pigtails — are you sassy too?"
Susan shook her head, her eyes wide.
"Shy one then... Alright, so Ms Sassy, you're now blondie since you look the part. Pigtails, well, you're pigtails still. You with the brown hair and the crazy eyes — you're weirdo. You, brown pigtails, the Other One. You, the grumpy — "
"Or you could just call us by our names," Wayne pointed out before Anthony could finish calling him the grumpy one.
Anthony shrugged. "Sure, I guess. Let's start with you, Other One."
Hannah turned a shade of pink at this nickname; she wasn't the only one crushing on Anthony, Lucy noticed. Megan was staring up at him, leaning forwards on her arms with a wistful look on her face. "I'm Hannah Abbott, and this is my best friend Susan. She doesn't talk much."
"Fair enough," Anthony shrugged and turned to Wayne. "Alright grumpy, what's your name?"
"Wayne Hopkins. And I'm not grumpy," he sighed. "I just have a headache because I fell." He glared over at Lucy again.
She grinned back at him and couldn't help but giggle at the memory of Wayne slipping on peppermint and getting trampled by a hoard of students. Wayne rolled his eyes, obviously not amused that she was laughing at him again.
"I'm Lucy Rochester," she said, smiling at Anthony's welcoming demeanor. She liked him already.
The rest of the feast went smoothly with Lucy getting more comfortable with her housemates. Megan was her favorite of the first years so far — she told stories all about her adventures in Scotland's Glengarry forest, which explained her accent. Susan was kind from what Lucy could tell but she couldn't make too many assumptions; Hannah wasn't lying when she said she didn't talk much. Hannah was nice enough, but she was a little interrogative.
Time flew by quickly, and it was only when the student body began to sing their school song that she noticed Harry and Ron trying to catch her eye. The three looked at each other.
Lucy waved at the boys happily, and they beamed back. Ron had chocolate frosting smeared on his nose in the place where the dirt used to be, and Hermione Granger was staring at it with disdain. Harry on the other hand looked like he was having the time of his life, and from what he told them about the Dursleys, that wouldn't be too far of a stretch.
Hannah gaped at her. "Did you just wave to Harry Potter? And he waved back?!"
Oh. There was the famous thing again.
Lucy only shrugged and followed Anthony out of the hall. Though a prefect was waving the first years over, they didn't seem interested and instead chose to follow the fourth year's lead. Anthony grinned triumphantly at the red-haired girl who rolled her eyes and turned away with a huff, fiddling with the golden badge on her robes.
"Come along, ducklings..." he was saying, but paused as the redhead looked down at the ground sadly. He stared at her, an unreadable emotion flickering across his eyes. He suddenly yelled over in her direction: "OH NO! I'VE FORGOTTEN THE WAY TO THE HUFFLEPUFF DORMITORY!" The redhead looked up at him, and Anthony looked away. "If only there was someone... With a golden, shiny badge... and sleek, beautiful red hair..." The girl's nose turned red at this, reminding Lucy of Ron. Anthony continued, "and blue eyes... and a nice arse — "
"All right, Rickett!" The redhead interrupted him with a flushed face and took the lead, looking distinctly happier than before. "Follow me, first years. And you too Rickett, if you've forgotten your way..."
"Oh, but I have, Locke," Anthony grinned, his eyes twinkling. 'Locke' rolled her eyes once more and headed towards a staircase. He leaned down to Lucy and whispered, "I think she's warming up to me," in such a loud voice that it sounded like more of a raspy shout.
"Don't hold your breath," Lucy whispered back as Locke shot him a deadly look over her shoulder.
The rest of the journey was a blur to Lucy; she was so tired that she didn't pay attention to her surroundings, her brain going on autopilot until it was time to change into her pajamas. She changed into a pair of gray shorts with a matching and baggy T-Shirt, and she noticed that the other girls were wearing silky pants and shirts or nightgowns, but luckily none of the others commented on it.
Lucy curled up beneath the warm black duvet and closed her eyes, falling asleep only minutes after her head hit the pillow.