The next day, Lucy was sitting at the Gryffindor table to the extreme displeasure of Megan, whose favorite part of the day was seeing she and Malfoy mutter insults at each other from their close proximity due to the order of the tables. The teachers had probably thought that keeping the Slytherins away from the Gryffindors would be a way to lower student conflict, but in reality, the Hufflepuffs didn't get along much with the first year Slytherins either. This was due to the fact that most young snakes thought the Hufflepuffs were all marshmallow dunces and the badgers did not appreciate that assumption.
Besides, Lucy liked sitting with Harry. His mates were all nice and got along with her relatively well and with the exception of Hermione, her presence there was met with no complaints. It was even welcomed, which was surprising considering how a lot of Hufflepuffs also weren't fond of the glory that the Gryffindor house received on a yearly basis.
Harry was frowning at his waffles, trying his best to ignore the death glares Professor Snape was sending their way. "Why does he hate me so much?"
"Because he's lonely," Lucy said as she put a small slice of toast on her plate. Harry shot her a quizzical look. "I mean, have you ever seen any of the other professors talk to him besides McGonagall? And even that doesn't happen often."
"Then why is he picking on me?!" Harry groaned. She understood his irritation and if she was being honest, she felt it too; Snape hovered over her like a hawk in Potions and although he didn't badger her with insults as he did Harry, she was beginning to loathe the man.
"C'mon, Harry, don't take it too hard." Fred clapped his hand over the scrawny boy's back as George squeezed between him and Lucy.
"The git lost his wand up his arse years before you came along!" George added.
Lucy glanced at Snape out of the corner of her eye and mentally cursed the twins for giving her such a disgusting mental picture. It was a wonder that the potions professor didn't ruin his potions by dripping grease out of his hair, and he sniffed in disdain so often that she had to resist the urge to recommend him a prescription. Of course, Megan found the silent feud between Snape and Lucy absolutely hilarious— apparently, the looks they gave each other could have curdled cottage cheese.
Harry was the one to pull her out of her thoughts; he had spotted the minute amount of food on her plate and drew his eyebrows together in concern. "You know they let you eat more than that, right?" He asked as he piled more food onto her plate. She could practically feel Anthony nodding approvingly from behind her, but she paid no mind and instead offered Harry a half-smile.
"Awww," the twins mockingly swooned but were forced to duck when Ron took a swipe at them.
Harry's face turned a light shade of red, scowling. "Shut up."
"Thanks, Potter, but anyway, Snape does seem to target certain people over others," Lucy continued in an attempt to steer the conversation away from Harry's embarrassment. Besides, any conversation that revolved around hating Professor Snape was a conversation well spent. "And it's not just Gryffindor. That git hovers so close to me during class that I'm surprised the grease from his hair hasn't dripped and exploded my potion."
Ron snickered at the mental image but from a few students down, Hermione Granger looked miffed at the fact that she was talking poorly of the professors. Never mind the fact that literally everyone else in Gryffindor did the exact same thing. Everyone else.
"I get why he would hate Harry, you know, since he's famous and everything, but why you?" Ron wondered aloud. "George reckons he hates us Weasleys so much because he hates gingers."
"Or Snape's a bitter ex, and his old ginger girlfriend ran off with a famous quidditch player. Maybe in his eyes you're the ginger and Harry's the famous quidditch player," Lucy suggested.
"But I haven't even been to flying lessons yet," Harry pointed out.
Ron let out a bark of laughter at the thought. "Doesn't matter. Honestly mate, I could picture that. You a seer or something?"
"Just intuitive."
"Well, obviously you're wrong and loud," Hermione couldn't help but hissing at them from down the table. She jerked her head toward's the teachers' table. "Look, Dumbledore's glaring at you..."
Feeling irritation beginning to prickle at her, she looked up and sure enough, Dumbledore and Snape were both giving her looks. The headmaster's was more reproachful and suspicious, whereas Professor Snape had gone pale was was looking at her with a glare bordering on anger and disbelief.
"Bloody hell, it was just a theory," Lucy shrugged, trying to play it off but she could feel the anger bubbling in the pit of her stomach. She was already treated unfairly and like a freak back at the orphanage and last she'd checked, Dumbledore promised that things wouldn't be the same here.
Bitterly, Lucy turned back to the mountains of food on her plate. But she couldn't resist the smile that pulled at her cheeks when Harry looked at her and back to the food expectantly.
"You know, I already have a mum, Harry," Lucy jerked a thumb back at Anthony.
"And here you've been telling us you were an orphan," Ron smirked. "Or are you lying, Lucy Who-Just-Recently-Got-The-Chance-To-Choose-A-Last-Name-And-Bloody-Chose-One-That-Sounds-Like-Roach?"
She laughed so hard at that that she hadn't even noticed Wayne and Megan passing by, freezing when they heard Ron loudly declaring her orphan status. And she definitely didn't notice when Megan teared up and rushed out of the Great Hall, Wayne's jaw dropping as he rushed after her.
Technically, Lucy didn't have flying lessons today. Also technically, she was supposed to be in the library studying with her fellow badgers but with them all mysteriously missing, she decided she'd be better off crashing the party between the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Besides, what's the worst she could get, a detention?
"What are you doing here, girl? You're in Hufflepuff!"
Or maybe the worst that could happen was getting her eyes pecked out by a woman resembling a hawk.
Lucy only smiled in fake nervousness, going off what Fred and George told her about these lessons beforehand. "Anthony Rickett was telling me about how good a flying coach you were, and I guess I couldn't wait until our own lesson. I promise I won't touch any brooms! I'll only watch..."
With that, Lucy gave Madame Hooch her specially reserved doe-eyes; her curly blonde hair and innocent brown eyes added to the effect nicely, which was probably the reason why the woman's sharp yellows eyes softened. "Rickett, you say?" She repeated, softer than before. Madame Hooch couldn't keep the flattered tone from seeping into her voice. "Well, there's no point in you sitting there like a damp rock, girl, you'll only get in the way. Go grab a broom. Just this once," she added sharply, "and if you and Rickett aren't on the Quidditch team next year, I'll reconsider my decision to not give you detention— now get a move on."
Lucy internally scoffed, but she kept the doe-eyed look firmly on her features paired with a teacher's pet grin. Her offense at Hooch's insults couldn't overpower her inner sense of victory at her first successful plan of pulling one up over the staff. Technically she was breaking her promise to Dumbledore to not behave badly, but he had broken his promise not to treat her unfairly. This was simply getting even.
She grabbed an old broom from off the ground and stood between Hermione and Ron, who were both staring at her in pure shock.
"How the hell did you manage that?" Ron gaped at her. "Bill told me that Hooch hates everyone— and I mean everyone."
"Apparently not Anthony Rickett," Lucy said smugly. "Holy cacti, I can't believe that worked!"
"Don't go showing off about it," Hermione chided. Lucy resisted the urge to present her with her favorite finger. For one, it wasn't very age appropriate and for another, she was trying not to be openly mean to the Gryffindor who obviously wasn't having any luck making friends. Maybe Lucy could become her friend, but she reckoned that could never happen until Granger loosened up and realized that a tiny bit of rule breaking wouldn't kill anyone.
"Stick your right hand over your broom," Madame Hooch called, "and say Up!"
The entire gathering of students yelled "Up!" In perfect unison, except for Lucy who was caught off guard by the sudden command. She noticed that Harry's flew up into his hand at once while Ron's had only gotten an inch off the ground.
"Come on baby girl," Lucy cooed lovingly to the broom, which in turn glided gracefully into her hand. A few who had been paying attention like Malfoy stared at her in stunned disbelief. "Hey, respect women," she told Malfoy knowledgeably. He snickered to himself. Pansy took that as a mocking laugh; she pointed a finger at Lucy and whispered something to Tracy Davis, who burst into giggles.
"I reckon they're sort of like horses, the brooms," Harry observed, "as long as you say it right it'll come to you anyways."
"Good to know that I'm an animal lover while you lot are just shouting brutes," Lucy grinned at Harry who gave her one of his own.
However, it seemed that Harry had a stroke of brilliance— as soon as she began thinking of the broomstick as more of a horse, she found the entire process a lot easier. It was quite funny, how most magical objects centered around peoples' respect of it— one example being her own wand.
"What do you think you're riding, Malfoy, a mop?" Madame Hooch barked at the Slytherin whose cheeks immediately turned an indignant pink.
"I've been doing it this way for years!" He shouted, outraged.
"Well then you've obviously been doing it wrong for years! Fix your grip or stay flying less efficiently," Hooch snapped, "won't matter to me! Don't expect me to haul you to the hospital wing when you inevitably fall off your broom."
"I like her," Ron whispered to Lucy. "She's like a more fair version of Snape."
"She's a million times better than Snape," Lucy replied happily.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," commanded Madame Hooch, "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle— three— two—"
Neville kicked off the ground on the count of two. It happened so fast— he spiraled out of control and fell off the side of his broom, falling twenty feet from the air to the solid ground.
"Well shit, he's dead," Lucy mused to herself. Hermione shot her a reproachful look, but Lucy only grinned back innocently, knowing full well that Neville had landed well enough to have survived.
Madame Hooch called out: "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say quidditch. Come on, dear."
"But I'm holding my broom," Lucy called.
Hooch rolled her sharp eyes. "You come with too, Hufflepuff, and see to it that Longbottom is escorted back to Gryffindor Tower afterwards."
"Son of a— should've kept my mouth shut. Bet I'll miss all the interesting shite, too," Lucy mumbled mutinously to herself, thinking about everything that would go wrong with rivaling houses alone, unsupervised, with a load of brooms at their disposal.
"I'll go, Madame Hooch!" Hermione called desperately.
"I'm sorry, are you a Hufflepuff? Get a move on, blondie, we don't have all day!" Madame Hooch snapped.
Okay, Lucy really liked Madame Hooch.
She waved goodbye to Malfoy, just to confuse him, before running off after the already departing Madame Hooch and Neville. She caught up to them rather quickly considering Neville was hobbling along his way, letting out whimpers as his purpling wrist throbbed painfully.
"If it helps, I'll spread a rumor that you beat Malfoy in a jesting match and he got bitter and shoved you off," Lucy offered, but Neville only let out a half-hearted whimper.
Madame Hooch trained her yellow eyes on Lucy. "You most certainly will not."
"Alright," she relented. She had to resist the urge to warn Madame Hooch of the inevitability of some first years — probably Malfoy and Harry, if she was being honest — getting up to hijinks in the air. She figured that they wouldn't actually get expelled. Dumbledore was too much of a softie for that, and besides, she figured that the Headmaster never did any of his own paperwork. The man was too damned cheery for that. McGonagall on the other hand seemed overly exasperated all the time...
"You've figured something out," Madame Hooch observed as Lucy clearly tried to hold back a laugh. "Well, spit it out!"
She suspected that Hooch was just annoyed with Neville's never-ceasing whimpering.
"Dumbledore dumps all his paperwork on Professor McGonagall," Lucy informed the coach in a very matter-of-factly way.
"What?!"
Madame Hooch said it in an attempt to seem oblivious, but Lucy knew better. She saw the knowing look in her new-favorite staff member's eyes.
"Ruddy seer," Madame Hooch muttered to herself.
People had been saying that a lot, hadn't they?