Despite thinking Lucy was an insane woman, her friends agreed to keep an eye on Professor Snape during the match, if only because they were curious why she had asked them in the first place. She had to give Anthony the rest of the candy she'd stolen from the train, but she supposed it was a small price to pay if it meant escaping Hermione Granger's wrath.

Only for none of that to matter after all, because Dumbledore decided to attend the Quidditch match.

"Oh, come on!" Lucy groaned, staring at where the headmaster sat with the rest of the faculty. "You just had to show up now, didn't you, old man? I gave Anthony the rest of my candy for nothing!" She felt like the old man had done it specifically to spite her.

"Hah! I knew he was coming anyway," Anthony said smugly through a mouthful of chocolate frogs. He swallowed, then grinned at the girl. "I love manipulating ickle firsties."

She glowered at him. It wasn't like she could have eaten the chocolate, but it was the principle of the thing. "You are a menace, Rickett," she hissed.

"I'm glad someone agrees," Daisy muttered from the row ahead of them.

"Welcome to the club, Rochester," Cedric grinned. He patted the empty seat next to him, "Care to escape him fully?"

Lucy made to do exactly that, but Anthony clamped his hands down on her shoulders, forcing her back down in her seat; he was just barely able to dodge the swift kick she sent toward his shin. He turned to Cedric with an outraged expression, shaking a finger at him accusingly, "You will not steal my duckling!"

"It's more of a rescue mission, if anything," Daisy said dryly.

Anthony leaned forward to the other row, resting each arm on Daisy and Cedric's shoulders. "Now, there's really no need for all this hate. What happened to this morning, Locke? I was a perfect angel."

Daisy shot him a flat look and turned back to the Quidditch match, not even bothering with a response.

This, of course, only egged the boy on. He leaned closer, eyes narrowed. "Are you ignoring me, Daisy?!" he said indignantly.

She didn't answer, but the corners of her mouth quirked upward, and she looked over at Cedric. "Do you hear something? I think there may be an infestation of something, because I hear a faint buzzing noise in my right ear."

"Oh, most definitely. The sounds I'm hearing, I can only picture coming from a pesky fly. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh, a fly is too kind a creature for such a noise, Cedric. I'm sure it's a flobberworm."

"Oh, that's it!" Anthony declared. He launched himself over the seats and sprawled across their laps like a cat. "Can you see me now, you lot?! Think you're comedians are you?!"

"God, Rickett, get off of me! I'm a prefect, you idiot!" Daisy shoved the boy onto the floor, then looked around worriedly for any sign of disapproving professors. Seeing nothing, she turned her gaze back to the pouting boy and smirked slightly. "Alright, you're good."

Anthony's eyes widened, and he jumped back into place, sitting between Cedric and Daisy with his legs sprawled across her lap. In this position, everybody was comfortable except Cedric, who was being squished into his arm rest.

"Daisy, you're supposed to hate him!" Cedric complained, shrinking away from Anthony. "Merlin, these seats are hellish— I'm gonna write a letter to Dumbledore. OUCH— Rickett, get your bony elbow out of my side!"

"My elbows are not bony," Anthony glared.

"Please tone down your suffering, Cedric. My legs are cold, and Rickett is warm blooded," Daisy reasoned.

"You're traitors, the lot of you!"

"Shut up, Seedric— If we lose this match, it's all thanks to you, SEEKER."

Cedric glared back at the reminder that he was not allowed to play in today's match. The late evening practices the Hufflepuffs had done caught up to him, and he was stricken with a fever all of yesterday. Madame Pompfrey forbid him to play in the match and technically didn't allow him to attend it, either, but Cedric sneaked out. He wanted to play, but the difference between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor's captains was that Hufflepuff's captain Ross Meadowes cared for the well-being of his players, and he also ordered that Cedric remain in the stands.

Anthony's comment earned him a whack around the side of the head from Cedric and a hit to the knee from Daisy.

Lucy was happy to watch the three older students banter for the rest of the match, but her plans were soon foiled when Megan grabbed her arm and pointed to the Gryffindor section. "Lucy, I think Malfoy's giving Neville some trouble!"

She followed the brunette's gaze, sighing at the sight. Sure enough, Malfoy was leering over Neville. He hadn't done anything yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time.

Also, any excuse to fight Malfoy was welcome in her book. She still hadn't forgiven him for the comment he made before Holiday Break. It sucked, because she thought that Malfoy had the potential to be a good friend, if he only stopped trying to impress everyone all the time— he was decent when she met him in Diagon Alley, and that time she partnered with him in Potions class.

Although none of that wouldn't stop her from kicking his butt if he stepped over the line.

"I'll handle it," Lucy gave Megan a reassuring smile. "Save my seat, yeah?"

"We'll see," Wayne muttered.

Megan elbowed him in the side, and he straightened up and gave Lucy a wide, fake smile. "I mean, we sure will save your seat! Have a great trip!"

His voice was coated in such sugary sweetness that Lucy almost wanted to wince. Geez, who knew Wayne could be so sarcastic...

"I like you too, Wayne," Lucy rolled her eyes. She didn't let him get away with the jab; she pulled his hat over his eyes as she passed him. Wayne hastily corrected his hat, glaring at her as she left.

She snickered to herself; she wasn't entirely sure if she and Wayne were friends or not, but their interactions brightened her day, and that was all that mattered.

Ron was the first to notice her approaching, and he smiled and waved her over. Oh, no, Ron. That's not what this mission is for. She gave him a devious grin and walked past his row. Ron stared at her in confusion until she stopped in front of Crabbe, who was sitting on Malfoy's left side.

"Move," she ordered in her most commanding voice. It wasn't quite enough, since Crabbe was more than two times her size, but it was enough to stun him instead of him immediately knocking her out.

The lackey blinked at her and looked over at Malfoy for instruction. The latter shrugged as if to say 'might as well'. Crabbed lumbered to his feet somewhat reluctantly, and he went to sit beside Goyle.

"Why hello, my second favorite Slytherin!" Lucy beamed, sitting down beside Malfoy.

"What do you want, Rochester?" Malfoy scoffed.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot you don't let people without a home sit next to you." She smiled while she said it, but Malfoy could see the cold look in her eyes, and it took him aback a bit. Usually the girl's teasing was lighthearted, but what Malfoy had said to her was unacceptable and he needed to realize that.

He didn't answer, likely trying to think up an adequate response.

"Maybe I should go sit somewhere else, since I haven't got a family, and you'd obviously feel too sorry for me," she continued, her smile growing wider and wider. "Or maybe I might as well apologize to you for ruining your day on account of me living in an orphanage. I'm sooooo sorry, Draco—"

"Merlin, will you stop that?!" Malfoy scowled and looked away. His face was red with what Lucy hoped was shame. "Potter was there, I had to say something back—"

"You managed to hurt my feelings, Draco Malfoy, just because Harry Potter was there?"

She gave him wide, doe-eyes and let her bottom lip quiver. Obviously, she was just being a dramatic git, but it made Malfoy look at her in horror as he hastily scrambled for something to say.

"Okay, okay, I'm bloody sorry! I didn't mean it! Merlin, Lucy, you don't have to cry about it," Malfoy said with wide eyes.

Instantly, Lucy's heartbroken expression vanished, and she beamed at the boy. Malfoy gave her a stunned look that quickly disappeared once her realized he had been tricked. "Oh, good one, Rochester. Should have known you didn't have any human emotions," he scowled.

"I mean, you did hurt my feelings, but come on, Malfoy. I grew up in an Orphanage. It's gonna take a lot more than a few mean words to make me cry."

Namely, seeing a conjured up version of her parents.

That really sucked.

Malfoy still seemed put out, which only brightened Lucy's mood. They managed another minute of civil discussion about the Potions essay before he spotted the vendor over in the Ravenclaw section. Something flashed in his eyes, and he pulled out a few galleons and put them in her hand. "Go get all four of us some licorice wands," he said, "maybe some pastries too."

"What am I? Your mother?" Lucy scowled, but the promise of licorice wands was too alluring to resist. Especially since Anthony conned her out of her sweets, the bastard.

She set off toward the vendor, watching Harry all the while; aside from the penalties Snape was unfairly handing out, the match was going well so far. She paid the vendor for the sweets; she picked out an array of licorice wands, chocolate frogs— for the Slytherin boys— and some peppermints. She briefly entertained the thought of pocketing the rest of Malfoy's money but unfortunately her morality kicked in, and she decided against it.

Holding the bag of sweets in her arms, she glanced over at the Gryffindor section.

Only to see Ron lunge at Malfoy, tackling him to the floor. She almost thought she was dreaming when she saw Neville head after the boy. While Neville wasn't exactly tactile in his blows, he managed to hit Crabbe around the side of the head before Goyle set it on him.

It then occurred to Lucy that Malfoy sent her off just so he could bother Ron in peace.

That sneaky, conniving little Slytherin...

She was sort of impressed.

Lucy sighed and reached into the bag for a licorice wand, biting off the tip of it. She might as well enjoy the Quidditch match, if they were going to be fighting the entire time. She took her sweet time walking back to the stands, paying attention to the game.

Harry made a spectacular dive toward the ground, then sharply turned upward. Lucy stopped in her path, instead leaning over the railing to watch him. In his turn, he flew close to the side where she was, and she grinned and cupped her hands over her mouth as she realized he was headed directly for Snape. The snitch was hovering above his head. "KNOCK HIM OFF HIS BROOM, POTTER!" She shouted.

She barely heard him laugh over the thundering cheers around her. Harry dove again, and he sharply turned upward as Snape spun off course. He held the snitch up victoriously.

"YEAHHH HARRY!" Lucy jumped and down, smiling so wide that her cheeks hurt.

Her fellow Hufflepuffs glared daggers at her from their section, and Lucy froze in her jumping, remembering who this Quidditch match had been against. Oh, well. Even if Hufflepuff had lost the House Cup, she was happy for Harry. He was the youngest seeker in over a century, and he managed to catch the snitch in what she supposed had to be record time.

She stopped cheering in favor of heading back to Malfoy and Ron before a professor noticed they were fighting amid the chaos. When she reached them, Ron had almost managed to wrestle Malfoy to the ground, while Crabbe had Neville in a headlock while Goyle landed blows to the boy's stomach.

"All right, break it up!" She ordered, grabbing Ron's shoulders and pulling him back. Ron didn't fight her, but he glowered at Malfoy as he hauled himself to his feet. She then turned her attention to Crabbe, who made no move to release Neville. "Crabbe, let him go!"

"Make me," Crabbe sneered.

Neville valiantly fought against Crabbe's grip, to no avail. She admired his effort, but this was just sad. She turned her eyes to Malfoy, but the boy made no move to call off his attack dog. He held a hand over his eye, which was already beginning to bruise.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," she muttered, pulling out her wand. She aimed at Crabbe's neck and hoped she wouldn't miss. "Duro!"

Thankfully, the tie around Crabbe's neck turned to stone rather than his skin. The weight and pressure around his neck caused him to cough for air, and he fell forward to the ground, the only position where he could actually breathe.

She laughed at the sight and made a cursory glance around the stadium for any professors. Luckily, there were none, so she could mock the great big bully as much as she pleased.

Hermione was not so amused; she gave the girl a horrified look, exclaiming, "Lucy! You could have seriously injured him! What if you missed and hit his face?! He could've turned to stone. You could have been sent to Azkaban!"

She didn't know what the heck Azkaban was, but judging by how disapproving Hermione was, she didn't dare ask.

"Reckon we'd have an unpleasant looking statue," Ron said, unconcerned.

Lucy grinned and gestured to Ron. "See? He gets it." She turned to face Malfoy. The Slytherin rolled his eyes, already expecting a lecture, but she only handed him his change back. Nah, no lectures today— Malfoy outwitted her fair and square. "Your plan worked this time, Malfoy. This one was on me. But I'm keeping the licorice wands," she stated.

"Fine. But you have to undo... whatever you just did," Malfoy gestured down at Crabbe whose face was turning red from the pressure.

She didn't actually know the incantation, but she had the next best thing. She crouched down beside Crabbe and pulled out her wand, giving him a warning look. "Don't move even a CENTIMETRE, or I might decapitate you."

Crabbe made a panicked noise, but he stopped squirming immediately.

"Lucy, what are you doing?!" Hermione groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"I need to concentrate, Hermione." She placed her wand to the piece of stone in the back of Crabbe's neck, where she figured the least lethal place was. "Defodio."

Carefully, she cut through the stone, taking her sweet time. It would be rather unfortunate if her hand slipped and sliced through Crabbe's neck, but that was the price he had to pay for defying her. Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy all watched her with bated breaths as she worked. Finally, she cut through the final crumbs of stone, and she had to move out of the way as Crabbe hurried to his feet. He was staring at Lucy with wide, angry eyes, but he made no move toward her; instead, he and Goyle rushed to get away from the girl.

Malfoy wasn't as concerned, but he followed his goons anyway since Ron looked happy to resume their fight.

"Lucy, I cannot stress how utterly dangerous that was," Hermione said slowly, as though she didn't expect her to understand the weight behind what she had done.

Lucy didn't see what the big deal was. Crabbe was fine— a little lack of air never hurt anyone, did it?

Okay, yeah, maybe lack of air was the defining factor behind hurting someone, but Crabbe deserved it. And he didn't die or anything...

And if he had, would it really be a loss?

She physically flinched at the dark thought, and for the first time she felt a rush of guilt... not for what she had done to Crabbe— she felt guilty because she didn't feel guilty.

"Alright, Hermione, quit nagging her," Ron cut in, seeing the distress on the blonde's face. She didn't dare say the real reason behind her distress. "Lucy's performed that spell loads of times! 'Sides, you saw what he was doing to Neville— they almost choked him out. She was well in her right to do it... Shame you didn't at least nick him."

God bless Ronald Weasley. She felt her heart swell as the boy defended her questionable actions, and she slung an arm around his shoulders, grinning. "This guy right here— he gets me."

Ron matched her, putting his arm over hers. "Bloody right I do! C'mon, match is over, just in time for dinner. And since we won, that means that you're in our house now, so you're celebrating with us."

"I didn't realize I was a bargaining chip in Quidditch, Ron," Lucy rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. No matter what she did, Ronald Weasley continued to be the most supportive friend in the world.

Although her Hufflepuff friends might not like it, she was perfectly content to spend the evening with the Gryffindors, who would most definitely be in a better mood than her own lovely Badgers.

But as she sat at the Gryffindor table for dinner, she looked around for Harry, and the boy was nowhere in sight. This concerned her; he'd just won his first ever Quidditch Cup, there was no way he'd miss out on the celebrations. Catching Hermione's eye, she looked worried too.

She kept an eye out for him the rest of dinner, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. Eventually, it was time for the students to retreat to their respective dorms. She knew better than to push her luck, and she reluctantly headed back to the Hufflepuff common room, where she knew everyone would be in poor spirits. Especially Cedric, who she knew would take their loss the hardest— even though it was only his first year as Seeker.

As she made her way to the Hufflepuff common room, she passed none other than Professor Quirrell. This was going to be a bit awkward— she really had been heckling the man, by saying his stutter was suspicious, accusing him of keeping dark secrets. And right now, there was nobody else around.

Quirrell slowed in his pace upon spotting Lucy. She half expected him to grow fearful, but he stopped in his tracks, as did she.

Great. No witnesses around, and this was a man who may or may not have tried to murder Harry, let a troll into the school, and worst of all, reeked strongly of garlic.

"Ms. Rochester," Quirrell narrowed his eyes at her, and her stomach turned over with unease. No stutter in sight. Her eyes tracked his hand, which was reaching into his robes, presumably for a wand.

Her heart hammered in her chest. He wasn't stuttering. Nor did he look even a little nervous. She was right after all, but she might not live to tell the tale. She panicked as Quirrell pulled his wand fully out of his pocket, opening his mouth to say a spell.

"I want to help you, professor," Lucy blurted out before she could process what she was saying. Quirrell paused, and his eyes darted around the hallway, searching for any bystanders.

He pointed his wand at her fully now. "Really, now," he said skeptically, "What's the extent to your knowledge, Ms. Rochester? You haven't been acting like someone who wants to help."

Lucy's heart was thumping in her chest now, but she shot the professor an apologetic smile. "Uh... honestly, I didn't think it was you after the stone. It was sort of a toss-up between you and Snape, but Snape is obviously a lot more suspicious than you, soooo..." she laughed nervously, "Sorry, I guess?"

Quirrell looked at her blankly, like he had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. He began mumbling under his breath, and she had to strain her ears to hear him.

"What action should we— yes, more information is necessary, master... yes, it may be good to have an extra pair of eyes, master, I agree, but..." He then flinched and his face went stark white, and Lucy could hear a strange hissing noise, "No, master, I don't think I know better than you! I'll do as you say, forgive me..."

What, I cannot stress this enough, the absolute fuck, Lucy thought, staring at Quirrell like the insane man he was.

Quirrell met her gaze, and he cleared his throat. "Very well," he said reluctantly. "You will have detention with me every Wednesday night, and I will see how well you may serve us. Now go straight to your dormitory— I shall know if you don't."

Lucy nodded quickly, her heartbeat pounding in her head as she hurried around the corner. But she wasn't going to her dormitory— Quirrell was full of shit, he was smarter than her, but there was no conceivable way for him to track her through the hallways. As soon as she rounded the corner, she took a detour to the Western staircase, where she went to the dungeon.

She couldn't believe what'd just happened. She just double agented Professor Quirrell— the no longer stuttering, cool and collected, Professor Quirrell.

She wouldn't let the man manipulate her like that. She wouldn't live in fear, unable to reach out for help; Quirrell was only a man, and while she was young, she was more than capable of working her way out of this situation.

Her pace quickened, until she broke out into a jog, then a full on sprint to none other than Professor Snape's office.

She didn't knock. It was late, but not quite curfew. She burst into his room and slammed the door shut behind her, pulling the blinds shut over the window. She turned back to face the man, gasping for air.

Snape was glowering at her, holding a quill just above an assignment he was grading.

"What are you doing here, Rochester?" He demanded, not happy to see her whatsoever. He was already in a foul mood from the Quidditch match and she supposed that seeing his least favorite student was the cherry on top to his crummy day.

"Professor Quirrell just tried to kill me," Lucy managed, sinking down into the chair in front of Professor Snape's desk. It was quite possibly the most bizarre sentence she'd ever spoken.

Snape's twisted expression turned into one of absolute shock. Whatever he was expecting her to say, it certainly wasn't that. He dropped his quill and pointed his wand at the door, both locking and placing a silencing charm on it.

"Start from the beginning."

And so she did. Despite how much she disliked Professor Snape, she knew that he was likely the best person she could have gone to with this; Dumbledore had a habit of disappointing Lucy, and Snape was the only other person she knew disliked Quirrell.

She recounted the Quidditch match where she saw Quirrell mouthing words at him, and she told Snape how Harry and the others suspected that Snape was the one behind it all. She then admitted that she heckled Professor Quirrell— in retrospect, that was definitely not a good idea— and he cornered her in the hallway.

When she reached the part about volunteering to help Quirrell, Snape slammed a hand down on his desk in anger. He leapt to his feet and towered over the girl, who scooted her chair back nervously.

"You are an absolute IDIOT!" He hissed, "Do you have any idea how foolish you are? The dangers behind what you just did?"

Lucy bit her lip, but she otherwise stood her ground. "He was going to kill me, Professor, I know he was! I'm not Harry— I can't take down trolls, but I could talk my way out of it. I'm not entirely stupid— I came to tell you, didn't I? I didn't let him talk me into staying quiet."

Snape was still seething with rage, but at least he wasn't shouting anymore. "You will tell no one else of Quirrell, or what he plans to do."

"But shouldn't Dumbledore—" she began to protest.

Snape silenced her with a withering glare. "The Headmaster and I are well aware of Quirrell. This is an extremely delicate situation, which you have only made harder for everyone involved. You've gotten yourself into this mess, and now you must do exactly as I instruct."

" I understand," Lucy sighed. She really was out of her depth here.

"You will attend the meetings every Wednesday," Snape said silkily, "And every Friday, I shall give you detention, and you will tell me everything you've discussed. Should he find out, you will tell him an edited version of what we have discussed. This endeavor will require the utmost caution, and if I think for a moment you've been compromised, the Headmaster will most certainly agree that your education would continue better in the States."

She nodded fervently in agreement. Snape gave her a few more words of warning, then allowed the girl to leave his office.

As she walked back to her common room, she couldn't help but feel a thrill go through her heart, a marked difference to the previous dread in the pit of her stomach.

These were dangerous waters indeed.

And a small part of her liked it.