She had no idea how but Lucy had wrangled herself an afternoon detention with Madam Hooch— which, to be fair, was only trimming the broomsticks, but it was still a detention nonetheless. And from that experience, Lucy could wholeheartedly say that Madam Hooch was her favorite staff member, McGonagall being a close second. Half of her 'detention' was just Lucy asking the coach questions about the sport, and while she had never shown an interest in athletics before, somehow Hooch was convincing her to try out for the team next year.
Dinnertime rolled around and to her surprise, none of her Hufflepuff friends were at the table— including Anthony and Cedric. Lucy couldn't find it in her to worry; she had been aching to know what happened at flying lessons for hours now, so she disregarded the rules about dinnertime and sat herself down between Harry and Seamus at the Gryffindor table.
"Seeker?" Ron was saying, his eyes widened to the size of saucers. "But first years never— you must be the youngest House player in about—"
"—a century," Harry finished as he bit into a piece of dessert pie. "Wood told me."
"What's this about Harry being a privileged little git?" Lucy interjected. Harry turned to look at her, offended, but upon seeing the teasing grin on her face he merely rolled his eyes. It was so hard to be genuinely offended by Lucy when she wore that smile; it didn't matter what she said. "So when's your first practice?"
"Next week," Harry replied. "Only don't tell anyone; Wood wants to keep it a secret."
She grinned evilly. "I'm telling everyone on the Hufflepuff team—"
Before Lucy could finish her sentence, Fred and George appeared out of nowhere; George clamped his hand over the girl's mouth while Fred shook his head at her in mock-disappointment. "Now, don't go spilling our secrets, Hufflepuff," George chided.
"Yeah, with Harry we'll win the Quidditch Cup for sure this year." At Lucy's quizzical look, Fred explained: "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."
Lucy swatted George's hand away. "Seems to me like that's even more reason to tell my team!"
"Oi, no inter-house sabotage or we might reconsider letting you sit here," George warned playfully.
"Stuff it, Weasley— I'll sic Anthony on you!" Lucy warned, knowing full well that they didn't get along.
Fred and George both rolled their eyes at the mention of their top rival for troublemaking. Anthony was a one-man band, and that particular charm seemed to combat the two-man act that the twins had going on. Besides, a lot of Anthony's pranks were pinned on the twins since he was lesser known for his trouble. The twins never had a proper alibi to prove that it couldn't have been them. "Speaking of which, we'd better get going. Lee says he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."
"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week," George winked. "See you!"
With that, the twins left as abruptly as they'd arrived. Lucy couldn't help but snicker in amusement, but her humor was short-lived; Malfoy had invited himself to the party, flanked by the two gorillas known as Crabbe and Goyle. She'd never been able to tell which was which and she didn't really care to either.
"Having a last meal, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"
"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. Lucy snorted to herself— Harry was brilliant at sass but his statement seemed a bit contradictory, seeing as Crabbe and Goyle were anything but little. Speak of the devil, the two baboons cracked their knuckles threateningly as if that'd somehow intimidate the Boy-Who-Lived.
Malfoy shot Lucy a glare and turned his eyes back to Harry. "I'd take you on anytime on my own," he boasted, seeming eager to prove himself. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only— no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"
"Of course he has," Ron said immediately.
"Yeah, Harry actually picks up books once in a while unlike you, Malfoy!" declared Lucy loudly, and at the prickled expression Malfoy sent her, she shrugged. "Dunno, Ron was shouting so I joined in."
"Anyways," Ron continued, "I'm his second. Who's yours?"
Malfoy looked between his two goons, sizing them up. Then he got a nasty little grin that took up half his face. "Rochester's my second. Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."
Before anyone could think to protest, Malfoy sauntered off and Lucy was left there gaping. "What does he think we are? Cousins?" She demanded. "If that bleach-head thinks I'm getting out of bed for a stupid duel—"
"Come on, even if you are technically his second," Ron pulled a face at the thought, "you can still help us. It'll be like you're coming along with us and you would've bloody done that anyway. All a second does is take over when the first one dies, which you lot won't be able to do anyway. Harry and Malfoy don't know enough magic to do any real damage."
"Yeah, but what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" Harry asked worriedly.
"Throw it away and punch him in the nose," Ron shrugged.
"If he hexes you first, then I'll punch him in the face," Lucy added.
All of a sudden, a bossy voice interjected out of nowhere: "Excuse me. I couldn't help but overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying—"
Ugh.
"Oh dear me, would you look at the time!" Lucy declared, glancing down at her imaginary watch. "Best get going! Loads to do!"
With that, Lucy grabbed her bag and sprinted away from the Gryffindor table before Hermione could do something horrid like ruin her good mood.
Lucy headed up to her dorm room, eager to spend some quality time with her cat. Grayble, of course, didn't feel neglected— he was technically a bed, so he didn't feel much at all. That didn't matter; Lucy loved him all the same.
But upon entering her dorm, she was confronted by Hannah, Megan, and Susan, who had their arms folded across their chest. Lucy cast them a weird look. They'd been acting weird all day, always sending her strange looks, even more so than usual.
"Er, hello?" Lucy said in a questioning tone.
"Why did you lie about your parents?" Megan blurted out.
Hannah smacked the brunette's arm as Lucy's jaw dropped. "We were going to ease her into that question, you dolt!"
Rubbing her arm, Megan pouted. "Well, I want to know! Why did you lie about it?"
Though she was calm on the outside, Lucy felt her heart sink. The answer was simple to her: because it was fun to pretend, even for a little bit, that she had the parents she daydreamed about. She told Megan about her mum, who she imagined to have curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes, who would have Lucy's dimples. And her father, who would be a kind, sophisticated man with warm brown eyes.
She also didn't think it was any of their business. She was alright with talking to Ron and Harry because she was much closer to them than she was to her dorm mates, but even then, she didn't get into detail about growing up in an orphanage. It wasn't something she was proud of.
"I dunno," Lucy sighed, unable to muster any remorse. "I guess it wasn't important at the time. Besides, it's not like I hurt anyone, did I?"
"Well, no," Megan admitted. She was still frowning. "But still. Just don't lie again, okay? Even if it's nice lies."
"Yeah, okay," Lucy agreed. She stared down at her kitten, who was curled up on her pillow. "I think I'm going to take Grayble for a walk. I'll see you later, yeah?"
"Yeah. We can play Gobstones!" Hannah beamed. "Don't cause any trouble!"
"Me? Trouble?" Lucy gasped as she lay a hand across her chest. "Why, Hannah, you wound me!"
Susan shot her friend a flat look. She out of everyone had the best deadpan expressions and no matter what, it made Lucy laugh every time— especially when she made them to Snape. That greasy git never knew what to do when Susan glared at him.
"Okay, okay, I'll be good," Lucy laughed. She scooped Grayble up into her arms. The kitten didn't even stir; he just let out a low purring noise. "I'll be back tonight, maybe."
"Maybe?" Susan called after her, but Lucy was already out the door.
She spent the rest of the day wandering around the school, trying to make sense of the many passageways. So far into the school year, she had absolutely no idea how to navigate herself to all her classes, and she mostly relied on Susan's superb sense of direction. At one point she ran into Dumbledore. He absentmindedly patted Grayble on the head before gliding off, leaving an amused Lucy staring after him. At another point, she ran into Snape, who she gave her meanest glower possible. He gave her a detention for that, but still, she felt like her duty had been fulfilled.
She hid behind a curtain and checked her watch until it was half-past eleven. She assumed she was supposed to meet Malfoy and the rest at the trophy room, and so that was exactly what she did.
There were no words to describe her anguish when she saw not Malfoy and Harry flinging hexes at one another, but that Hermione and Neville had joined them as well.
"Oh for fudge's sake," Lucy hissed to herself before turning and giving Granger a wide smile. "Oh Hermione how wonderful to see you! Great weather we're having, yeah?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. They waited a few minutes for Malfoy to arrive, but to nobody's surprise, he appeared to have chickened out. Then a noise in the room over made them all jump— the sound of footsteps creeping along the hallway.
"Sniff around, my sweat, they might be lurking in a corner..." Filch's croaky voice reverberated off the walls. Grayble stirred and gave Lucy a rather mean look for dragging him into this mess in the first place. She responded with an apologetic shrug.
She was too busy silently communicating with her cat to notice Harry making mad gestures at them to follow him, so Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her along. They rounded the corner just as Filch entered the trophy room.
"They're in here somewhere... Probably hiding," Filch muttered.
'This way,' Harry mouthed to the other four. They followed him slowly, careful not to make too much noise. Filch was gaining on them; the pressure was too much for Neville, who let out a squeak and started sprinting down the hall. Lucy sighed heavily as he tripped and crashed into a suit of armor, bringing Ron down with him. The sound was tremendous, cutting through the tension that the quiet evening brought.
"SCATTER!" Lucy yelled at the same time Harry yelled "RUN!"
Everyone broke into a sprint, none caring whether the other was left behind. Lucy took the lead— she was the one who was most accustomed to running away from authority and was the only one who didn't really care if the others were too slow to get away. Harry accidentally ran into a tapestry and promptly tore right through it, revealing a hidden passage.
They ended up somewhere near the Charms classroom.
Lucy hunched over, wheezing. "Oh god, I'm out of shape."
"You don't even have a shape, you bloody skinny rat," Ron grumbled. She only shot him a sweet smile.
"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said suddenly. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you: Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room. Malfoy must have tipped him off."
Lucy pulled a face at the revelation. "Well, that settles it, I'm throwing a firecracker at his head in History of Magic."
"Right, I'm making sure you do that now that you've said it," Ron laughed and gave her a high five.
Harry smiled himself, but tried to get them back on track. "Come on, let's not stay in one place too long."
They had only gone about three feet before Peeves hurtled out of a classroom, floating in front of them. He let out a delighted squeak at the sight of them.
"Shut up, Peeves, please," Harry begged, "You'll get us thrown out..."
"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty!" Peeves giggled.
"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please!"
Peeves tapped his finger with his chin thoughtfully. "Should tell Filch, I should," he said serenely, though the effect was ruined by the devious look in his eyes. "It's for your own good, you know!"
Ron snarled under his breath and took a swipe at the annoying poltergeist, much to the chagrin of his companions. Peeves took in a big breath before screaming out: "STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"
"Oh for god's sake!" Lucy shouted, sprinting toward the end of the hall. They were at a dead end— the door in front of them was locked.
"This is it," Ron moaned, pushing at the door. "We're done for! This is the end!"
"Oh, move over," Hermione snapped. She grabbed Lucy's wand— who was rather tempted to burn it afterward— and tapped the lock. "Alohomora!"
The door swung open, and the first years quickly clambered inside.
The other four pressed their ears against the door, listening for any sound, but Lucy's attention was focused on the snarling, three-headed dog not a few feet away. It was quiet so far, observing them, but Lucy was quite certain that that would change any second.
"Er— Harry?" Lucy asked in a high pitched voice.
"Shhh!" the Boy-Who-Wanted-To-Be-Eaten-By-A-Three-Headed-Dog snapped.
Neville, who had noticed the dog(s?) began pulling on his sleeve. Harry ignored it for about a minute more, then turned to face Neville, a look of pure annoyance clear across his features. Then he spotted the beast: the now snarling, foaming out the mouth, recently awoken beast.
Face stark white, Harry fumbled for the doorknob. It swung open and the first years burst out, sprinting down the hall.
Lucy had quite enough of Harry's horrible navigation, so she took off in another direction, one that she hoped would lead her to the common room. She passed Mrs. Norris around the way but apart from stopping to flip her off, she ran the rest of the way back to the Hufflepuff common room.
She could take one thing away from this evening:
Dumbledore was a complete bloody madman.