The next few days passed so quickly that Lucy was afraid the rest of the year would be the same. Her classes were much more exciting than they had been last year; now that they knew the basic theory, the professors were more comfortable letting them practice spells. That was just how she liked it.

Riddle was incredibly handy to have both in and outside of class. When Lucy was caught whispering to Megan, Professor McGonagall tried to trip her up by asking her a question— it was immensely gratifying to repeat the correct answer back to her, courtesy of Tom Riddle. She impressed many of her teachers this way.

As expected, Lockhart's class turned out to be a load of nonsense. She heard from Harry that he unleashed pixies on the entire class, and he didn't know how to get rid of them. He learned his lesson by her class. She was sort of disappointed— it might have been fun to set a few pixies on fire.

Their class, he handed them each a quiz. On himself. The only way to know the answers was by reading his garbage books, and it was safe to say Lucy had not done that. Hannah knew most of them, but the rest of the Hufflepuffs had fun writing absurd answers in.

What is Professor Lockhart's secret ambition? Lucy had written 'to one day be as famous as Harry Potter'.

Megan hit him where it hurt and wrote 'to actually be happy with himself enough in life to stop lying about everything'. It was insanely brutal.

"Wow," Riddle actually said when Megan read aloud her graded 'T' for troll assignment. And that was only one of her answers. All the others were equally as rude.

Lockhart excused himself from the room shortly after he read that one. Lucy guessed he had to collect himself. There were only seven Hufflepuffs, but that might have made it more unnerving for him to be alone with a small number of disrespectful students. There was no distracting himself in the classroom, no way to escape their glares.

"That's a bit harsh, isn't it?" Hannah said disapprovingly.

Susan threw a cautious glance at her friend. "Don't tell me you like him..."

"He's handsome," She said, unabashed. "And he's quite funny, if you don't let his personality annoy you."

"See, that's the thing, Hannah... his entire personality is annoying," Ernie scoffed.

Justin shrugged, looking a little shy. "I think he's handsome too. And how do we know he's lying?"

Oh no, Lucy thought grimly. Justin fell for Lockhart's charms... that was three of her friends contaminated now. Maybe four— Megan thought Lockhart was handsome too, but fortunately she had the sense to bully the man anyway. She was one of Rickett's girls, after all.

"He said he had a cure for werewolves, Justin," Wayne said incredulously. "My pa's a werewolf, believe me, there's no cure for it."

"Your dad's a werewolf?" Lucy said curiously.

Megan threw her a warning look. Wayne didn't mind her question, which honestly surprised her. Once he'd been offended because she asked him his favorite color, let alone asking him about his father. "It was an accident— a muggle werewolf got loose and got him by his ankle. Happened just after I was born. The only thing that helps is a Wolfsbane potion, but even that doesn't stop the transformation... there's no way Lockhart created a charm for a cure."

Justin bit his lip. He didn't dare argue against Wayne's experience— Lucy didn't know much about werewolves, but she knew it was a sensitive topic in the wizarding world. "Well at least he's a good author?" He said weakly.

"Traitor!" Ernie cried, scooting away from him.

Lucy tilted her head to the side. "Okay, I can give him that," she admitted. His books were entertaining— if he stopped trying to pass them off as nonfiction, she might enjoy them more. "Lockhart is actually a good author. He has a way with words."

"Why, thank you, Lucy!"

She immediately wished she hadn't said anything. Lockhart walked into the room just as she praised him, and he puffed his chest up at her compliment. Oh, no, she'd made him happy! Couldn't he have walked in before, when they were insulting him?

"You're all very clever with your responses! I'll admit, they jaded me at first— but now I see you're all aspiring writers!" Lockhart let out a hearty laugh. He sat down at his desk and plucked a peacock quill from a jar. He dipped it into shimmering purple ink and began scrawling on a sheet of parchment. "I've just had a brilliant idea, Lucy," he looked up and beamed at her. "I'll write to Professor Dumbledore and start a creative writing club! Led by me, of course— and you can be my first honorary student."

Lucy stared at him, horrified. "There's really no need—" she began.

"Nonsense! There's no need to be shy, Lucy. I know you like to act cool for your boyfriend, but you don't have to pretend around me," he winked.

God, how thick was he?! She looked at Riddle for some sort of support, but she was even further horrified to see that he was laughing at her.

"Oh, that's rotten, Lucy," He laughed, leaning against a desk. "You have fun with that."

What a git!

"And I'll add your friends to the list, too! You have a particular way with words, Ms Jones," Lockhart continued. With every word he spoke, she wanted to die even more. "Let me re-grade your quizzes, all of you... Such clever writers... you certainly fooled me!"

Megan was delighted he thought so. "Really?" .

Oh, no... she was losing another one... This was the worst day of Lucy's life...

"Really. And it's coming from me— a multiple award winning author!"

"That actually sounds like fun," Ernie commented. He looked around at Justin who was pleased with the thought of being around Lockhart in the first place. "I expect it'll be popular with the students."

"It certainly will, Ernie. Ten points to Hufflepuff. And ten more to you, Lucy, for catalysting my brilliant idea!"

"I'm in hell," she whispered. "I'm in hell, and I'm burning." Riddle laughed harder and she desperately wanted to whack him. She glared at him anyway.

Thankfully for her sanity, the bell rang. Defense Against the Dark Arts was the last class of the day, so she could spend the rest of the day healing her broken soul. She walked out of the classroom, numb inside. Was this how people felt when she tormented them? Did they feel this deadness in their hearts?

Megan excitedly talked with Hannah about the new club, and Justin and Ernie were looking forward to it too. Susan sighed and lay a supportive hand on Lucy and Wayne's shoulder.

"It's hard being the sensible one," she said grimly. "Welcome to our lives, Lucy."

"It's so hard, Susan," Lucy whispered. Her lifestyle was infinitely more fun. "How do you do it?"

"We take all of our disappointment and regret, and we shove it deep down and hope it will go away," Wayne replied.

"...And does it work?"

Susan and Wayne shared a look of deep, deep suffering. They looked back at Lucy and said, "No."

They went to go to their common room, but they were stopped by Anthony. Or at least, Lucy was stopped— he and Cedric each took one of her arms and started leading her in the opposite direction of the common room.

"What's happening!" She looked at each of them in alarm. "Where are you taking me?!"

Anthony grinned. "We're going to see Madam Hooch."

"And why are you doing that? I have homework, Rickett. I have a soul to heal!"

"Hooch has sent us each a letter over the summer," Cedric told her solemnly, "and she's quite adamant you try out for the Quidditch team."

Lucy thought back to her first flying class... She struck a deal with Madam Hooch where the woman said she'd have to play Quidditch or else she'd have a detention. She hadn't intended on keeping her promise— what was a detention compared to loads of free time?

"Listen, boys, I'm not trying out," she insisted. "Second year is very stressful. I don't have time for such activities— I'm responsible now, you know!"

Anthony looked at her, aghast. "Don't you ever say something so terrible ever again, Lucille Rochester!"

Cedric on the other hand grinned. "I knew you had it in you, Lucy. Daisy will be pleased."

"Shut up, Seedric— my duckling has been corrupted!"

"I'm only following your example," Lucy said innocently. She was slowly pulling herself from their grips, hoping they were distracted by the conversation. "You're a prefect, and I want to be just like you."

Anthony opened his mouth to reply. She tore herself from his grip and started sprinting away, but what she hadn't accounted for was that her friend was both a fifth year and had a wand. "Accio daughter!" He said, and she felt herself pulled back toward him. "Trying to pull a runner on me, Lucy? I'm the best prankster around these parts! It'll take more than that to fool me."

Lucy gave him a sour look. Suddenly Cedric cried, "Look, right there!" And he pointed ahead of them. Anthony turned to look; there was nothing. "Made you look," he grinned.

Ever so slowly, Anthony turned to look at him. "I will get you, Cedric," he said softly. "And you are going to have nightmares all your life..."

Cedric actually looked disturbed by that. Before Anthony could say any more disturbing threats, they arrived at the Quidditch shed where Madame Hooch usually hung around. The woman waited, leaning against the shed and glancing at her watch. She looked up to see them dragging Lucy. She rolled her eyes. "It's about time!"

"You sent us less than ten minutes ago!" Anthony said, outraged.

"You're losing your touch, Rickett. Now—" she looked at Lucy's sour expression and fought back a smirk. "I believe we had a deal, Ms. Rochester?"

"Merlin, is there a Quidditch monopoly going on?" Riddle muttered, looking between the three.

It occurred to Lucy how shady this all must look to him; she was kidnapped by her friends and dragged to a staff member, all for 'completing her side of the deal'.

"You weren't serious, Madam Hooch... I'll take the detention..." Lucy tried.

"I've upped the stakes, Lucy," Madam Hooch shook her head grimly. "If you don't try out, I'll give you detention every night this year."

"And since I'm a prefect, I'll give you double detention every night this year!" Anthony added.

Lucy's jaw dropped. "That's not even a thing!"

"Sure it is. Detention in the morning and evening, simple as that."

Right... she'd have to try another tactic. "I don't have a broom, and I couldn't possibly afford one."

Smirking, Madam Hooch reached into the shed and presented her with a sleek, blue broomstick. It was in better shape than the school brooms but it had certainly been used in its lifetime. "My nephew bought a Nimbus 2000 last year, and he kindly donated this one to me. It's all yours, Rochester."

"I couldn't—" she began to refuse.

Madam Hooch cut across her protests easily. "Minerva bought her student a Nimbus 2000, Rochester! Do you know how ridiculous that is? If she can do such a thing, you can certainly accept a hand-me-down broom. And you don't really have a choice in the matter— if I hear Minerva singing praises about her seeker one more time, you may be in for a new Transfiguration Professor!"

"This is the most aggressive gift giving I've ever witnessed," Cedric stayed.

Riddle nodded in agreement, looking utterly done with the conversation. "Just do it, Lucy," he sighed. "I grow weary of this arguing."

Well, if it was inconveniencing Riddle, she thought sarcastically. At last, she took the broomstick into her hands, holding it like she was afraid it would shatter. "Thank you," she said grudgingly. "When's tryouts?"

Cedric grinned. "Right now. I'm the captain."

He pointed to a shiny badge on his robes. Lucy's eyebrows raised and smiled at him. "Really? Congratulations, Cedric!"

"Thanks!"

"As Deputy Captain, I'm telling you right now you've already made the team," Anthony told her.

"You are not Deputy Captain—"

"Quiet now, Cedric. Lucy— take flight!" He pointed into the air dramatically, and when she didn't immediately take off, he huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Rude."

She snickered and decided to do as he said. She flew quite a lot of brooms last year when she unofficially tested them out for Madam Hooch, and at the risk of sounding arrogant, she was pretty good at it. She kicked off the ground easily and was amazed to see how much more smoothly this broom worked. It certainly wasn't as fast as Harry's, but oddly, she liked it more that way.

"Do a loop!" Cedric suggested.

"NO! Are you trying to get her killed?" Anthony rounded on him, only to grow panicked as Lucy did what he said. She did a loop in the air, and she straightened herself out only to keep herself upside down, looking at the four people in front of her. (Maybe three. Did Riddle count as people? In her mind, he did.)

Anthony ran below her and held his arms out, ready to catch her. "Okay, you've impressed me! Come down now!"

"Can you dive?" Cedric wondered.

"DIGGORY!"

Lucy laughed and dove toward the ground. She didn't dare wait too long– she'd have to practice more to be as good as Harry– but Cedric looked acceptably impressed by her. "Congratulations," he laughed. "You passed tryouts. You're our newest chaser."

For Anthony's sake, she landed on the ground. "Really? There's not one person better suited?" She said skeptically.

"Our chasers graduated last year. And between you and I, I'd rather have my friends on my team," Cedric shrugged. "Daisy's a chaser, too, so's Heidi Macavoy— she's in my year, she's very kind. Herbert Fleet's our keeper, he's in Daisy's year."

"Who's the other beater?" She wondered.

"Maxine 'the Maniac' O'Flaherty," Anthony said darkly. "One day... one day I will win an arm wrestling match against her..."

Cedric looked at his friend with sympathy, patting him on the arm. "It's never going to happen, mate. She's too strong."

Anthony sighed. Lucy had seen Maxine around, and secretly she was enamored by the girl's strong biceps. A little intimidated, too... she could probably bench press Marcus Flint, and that was no easy task.

"We've got practice booked for tomorrow morning, five o'clock sharp."

Shivers worked their way up Lucy's spine; she had been feeling very tired lately, and the thought of waking up any earlier than she had to made her want to die. "You're monstrous, Diggory..." she whispered.

"Oliver Wood makes his team wake up at four o'clock," Cedric said, unbothered.

"Oliver Wood is also a maniac, so nothing he does is comparable," Anthony countered.

"Well, it's only Friday's that we'll have to get up early. We have the pitch every evening at five o'clock on Wednesday."

Lucy felt herself relax. Her stigma about Quidditch came from secondhand accounts from Harry about the hell Oliver Wood put them through at practices. She could sleep well tonight, knowing her sleeping schedule was mostly safe from insane Captains.

Anthony grinned triumphantly at her and lay an arm around her shoulders. "That's the spirit, cub! Now c'mon, there's a party in the common room tonight..."

"On a Thursday?" Riddle demanded, incredulous. "Do they ever stop?"

No, Riddle. No they didn't.

Lucy's first Quidditch practice wasn't as miserable as she thought it would be— it was actually, dare she say it, fun. She got on with Daisy well already, but Heidi was particularly a joy to have around. Cedric was embellishing when he said she was 'pretty nice', when in fact she was the most ruthless and hardcore chaser she had ever laid her eyes upon. Five times in a row, Heidi crashed to the cold ground to catch the Quaffle and each time she picked herself up like nothing happened.

She wanted to leave the diary in fear that it'd get ruined, but Riddle was having none of it– instead she slung her satchel around a seat in the announcer's box so that if anyone tried to steal it, she would notice right away. It was definitely paranoia getting to her, but the thought of someone stealing her diary made her feel physically sick. She didn't like being away from it for too long either, and she always sighed in relief whenever she held it in her hands instead of carrying it in her satchel.

Riddle came out of the diary every so often to observe, but for the most part he wasn't interested in Quidditch. He thought it was too loud and overall a waste of energy– but he said the extracurricular would look good on her resume, like the guidance counselor he was.

Cedric ran them through loads of drills. As the seeker, he didn't have to do as much practicing and he instead focused on directing them. Herbert wasn't a very good keeper. Hopefully it would improve with time; Cedric was getting annoyed with him as the practice went on.

"It's our first practice," she heard him mutter to himself. "He'll get better... don't commit homicide..."

"Did someone say HOMICIDE?"

Maxine hurtled through the air and smacked a bludger right at Anthony. He shrieked and rolled sideways out of the way. The bludger sailed through right where his head would have been.

"What the hell, Max!" Anthony said, terrified.

"You were supposed to hit it back, Anth!" Maxine threw her head back and laughed.

"Dear Merlin..." Daisy whispered, "That was the scariest thing I've ever seen..."

Lucy had to agree. Maxine was... something else.

"LUCY, CATCH!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy saw a quaffle whizz by and start falling to the ground. She quickly dove for it, growing closer and closer, inch by inch... She grabbed it in her hands just as the front of her broom smacked against the ground, and she crashed into the slick mud, groaning. She swore she could see stars spinning around her head.

Heidi hovered over her, beaming. "Now you're getting the hang of it!"

"We die like PUFFS!" Maxine agreed.

"Preferably, we don't die at all," Herbert suggested. He looked pale just from watching her hit the ground.

"That's coward talk, Fleet!"

Lucy got up from the ground, shaking mud off her arm. "I'm going to have to agree with Max here, Herbert," she said apologetically. "You're exhibiting coward-like behavior."

"Huffle-up!" Maxine cheered.

"HUFFLE-UP!" Everyone except Lucy echoed.

Seeing her confused look, Daisy smiled sheepishly. "It's a Puff term. I suppose you haven't been at the parties to hear it much."

No, she tended to avoid the raves that Hufflepuff routinely hosted. They were just so loud... Maybe when she was older she would see the appeal of it.

Cedric clapped his hands together. "Well, I don't know about you lot, but I'm knackered. We'll meet next Wednesday– but don't let that stop you from finding your teammates to practice!"

Maxine grinned threateningly at Anthony. Sometime told Lucy that the beater was going to find him often, with or without his permission. He gulped and hid behind Daisy. "Don't let her hurt me..." he whispered. "I'm fragile..."

Daisy rolled her eyes but couldn't stop a smile from pulling at her lips.

Lucy spent the rest of Friday utterly exhausted. She crawled into bed at seven o'clock that night without doing a lick of homework. She intended to sleep through all of Saturday, maybe even part of Sunday.

Unfortunately, life was never that easy for her. She was shaken awake early the next morning by an excited looking Hannah. Groaning, Lucy pulled her pillow over her face. "Whaaaaat?" She whined, voice muffled.

"The Gryffindors are practicing today," she said excitedly.

Lucy pulled the pillow off her face and raised it, ready to hit her with it. "If that's the only reason you woke me up..." she began dangerously.

"Susan heard from Blaise Zabini last night that the Slytherins booked the same day. On purpose! I'm going down to watch the confrontation..."

She paused. On one hand, she was tired enough to fall asleep at any given moment. On the other hand, there was a chance the Slytherins would be mean to her best friend... Maybe even attack him...

"Fine," she muttered. Defeated, she set her pillow down and pulled on her coat. She didn't bother changing out of her pajama pants, seeing as she'd go right back to bed after they were done.

She absentmindedly grabbed the satchel before leaving the common room with Hannah. "Isn't Megan coming?" She asked, rubbing at her eyes.

"I tried waking her up," Hannah shook her head. "Sleeps like a rock, that one."

How she wished she was the same way.

Funnily enough, they arrived at the Quidditch pitch around the same time as the Slytherins did.

"HEY, MALFOY!" Lucy called. She and Hannah were a good ways behind them, and her voice carried across the grounds.

He turned around and sighed upon seeing her. "Rochester," he said begrudgingly. "What are you doing here?"

"Heard there was a fight," she shrugged. "You?"

"Starting the fight," he shrugged, grinning at her. He kept walking with the Slytherin team. Marcus Flint turned around to shoot Lucy a deadly look, to which she replied with a sweet smile. He hated her guts, all right... Not only did she hex him at any given chance, but she was one of Rickett's girls, and Anthony also hexed him at any given chance.

"That was surprisingly civil," Hannah commented. "Are you two friends?"

"Sort of, not really. Depends on the day," Lucy shrugged. They only got along when he wasn't insulting Harry, which wasn't a lot.

"Lucy!"

She turned around, and Ron and Hermione were heading her way. "What's going on?" Hermione cast a worried look at the teams ahead of them. "I thought Gryffindor booked the field..."

"Oh, they did," Hannah agreed. "Slytherins just wanted to fight."

"Of course they did," Ron scoffed.

They reached the field, and they walked over to Harry's side. Hannah was content to sit in the stands and watch it all play out. Colin joined her.

"What's he doing here?" Ron finally noticed Malfoy and shot him a disgusted look.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," Malfoy said smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

Lucy looked around, pretending to be confused. "What new brooms?"

Malfoy was smart enough not to take the bait. Adrian Pucey, however, was not. He held his broom out for her to see. "These brooms, are you blind?" He scoffed.

"Did he really fall for that..." Riddle appeared next to Lucy, looking downright pained at the sight in front of him.

"Mate, I hate to break it to you, but those aren't brooms. See, turn it around and look at the bristles," she told him.

Pucey did as she said. She fought to keep a straight face and continued, "Now, look carefully, and you'll see that it actually says that you're a big ugly git."

The Slytherin boy gaped at her, and the Weasley twins roared with laughter. Even Riddle couldn't help but smirk, even if it was at Slytherin's expense.

"Shut up, Rochester!" Flint scowled at her.

"I heard you have a Comet 260," Malfoy added. He hadn't said it meanly or anything. She supposed he said it more out of duty to his Quidditch team than anything else.

"Oooh, you got me, Malfoy," she said dryly. She turned to look at Riddle. "Boys and their toys, am I right?"

"I'll never understand," he agreed.

Hermione seemed to have taken offense on Lucy's behalf; she looked at Malfoy severely. "At least no one on their Quidditch teams had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent."

Malfoy's smug look faltered. Hermione had struck a nerve. Lucy grinned, proud of her friend. First Megan, now Hermione... her friends were on a roll lately.

"No one asked for your opinion, you filthy little mudblood!" Malfoy spat.

It was like a bomb had gone off. Lucy was unaffected for the most part– she heard the word at Mallory's often enough, from passing customers– and she thought it was a silly insult overall. But apparently it held great weight in the wizarding world; Flint dove in front of Malfoy to keep the Weasley twins from getting at him, Alicia and Angelina shrieked at him, and Ron grabbed his wand from his robes to point it under Flint's arm.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" He yelled. There was a sharp bang, and a jet of green light shot out of his wand— except it came out the wrong end and hit Ron in the stomach. He fell backward onto the grass.

"Right, that was a little embarrassing," Lucy sighed.

The Slytherin team burst into laughter; she couldn't have that. She pointed her wand and cast Reductor Cursesat the ground beneath their feet. The earth exploded, and their laughter turned into frightened shouts. Flint dove away from Malfoy, falling to the ground, and she shot a curse right in front of his head.

"You're fucking mad, Rochester!" Flint spat at her, pushing himself to his feet.

Malfoy stared at her in shock. She hadn't sent a single curse at him. She arched an eyebrow and glanced from him to the castle, willing for him to get the hint. Since they were on better terms at the moment she didn't want to have to curse him. Thankfully he wisened up and left with the rest of his fleeing team.

Flint slowly backed away from her, fury clear on his features. "You think you own the world, do you, Rochester?" He growled.

Vaguely, she heard Ron throwing up in the background. It was a little disconcerting.

"Little bit, yeah," she admitted.

"You'd better learn your place, little girl," Flint's nostrils flared, and he cracked his knuckles at her. "The last war put filth like you in its place. It looks like it's time for a repeat, you little mudblood..."

Riddle's eyes flared with anger. "How dare he—" he hissed, and he reached for a wand that wasn't there. This only made him angrier.

Lucy only grinned; how could she be offended by such a silly insult?

"D'you reckon if I'm feeling cocky at the moment, I'm technically a smugblood?" She said innocently.

Flint opened his mouth to reply, but she sent another reductor curse at his feet. This time, she purposefully hit him in the shoe. He yelled in pain, and she could see a dark stain splatter through the top of his shoe.

The Weasley twins pointed their wands at him, too. "Leave," Fred said harshly, "Unless you want all three of us to send the same curse at your face."

Furiously, Flint limped away. Lucy had a feeling he wouldn't snitch on her; then he'd have to admit a mudblood bested him. Not only that, but a second year mudblood.

Riddle stared after Flint, a storm brewing in his eyes. Lucy wanted to ask him what his problem was, but Ron had her attention at the moment. He was hunched over, throwing up huge slugs. Harry and Hermione were in the process of leading him away.

"Gross," she pulled a face at their retreating backs. "Any spectres out there know a countercurse?" She said pointedly.

"No," Riddle said coldly. He disappeared without another word.

Well someone was grumpy today. Shaking her head, she turned back to the Gryffindor team. Angelina stared at her approvingly. "Nice wand-work, Hufflepuff," she complimented.

"Although your puns could use some workshopping. What's Rickett been teaching you?" George scolded, appearing at her side.

Fred flanked her other side, and they each put an arm on her shoulder, leading her toward the castle. "Smugblood? I expected more from him," he said grimly.

"You know, I'll pass the message along," she lied. "Now why are you two hanging around? I'm well aware of finding my own way back."

"That you are," George nodded.

"But you see—" Fred began.

"You just pissed off a group of Slytherins—" George continued.

"—and we wouldn't put it past them to wait and jump you—"

"—as soon as you walk in," George finished.

Fred nodded. "Slytherins can be nasty, best not to underestimate them."

Lucy was oddly touched at the notion. Whenever she visited the Burrow, she and the twins would jokingly feud, but she hadn't expected them to look out for her like this.

"Why thank you, gentlemen." As soon as they reached the Hufflepuff Common Room, she turned to bow at the two.

"Of course, of course," They said in unison.

"But do you know what would be a great payment?" Fred said innocently. He fixed his gaze at the Hufflepuff's entrance.

Lucy sighed, and she looked from him to the Hufflepuff door. "Fine," she said begrudgingly. "You can have the password. I'll only do it once, so you have to remember it."

Anthony was going to kill her if he ever found out.

"You're an angel, Lucille!" George beamed.

She'd certainly regret this later. Before she could change her mind, she turned and knocked the pattern into the Hufflepuff door. It slid open for her, and she chanced a glance at the pair of twins behind her. They smiled evilly, and she gulped, feeling like she had just made a giant mistake...

That evening, Lucy lay in her bed. It was nearing eleven o'clock, and her friends were all down in the common room partying. Something about it being their 'first weekend', but that didn't hold much weight considering they partied every weekend.

She scratched behind Grayble's ear and stared at the ceiling, imagining she was staring at stars in the sky. She tried to do her homework throughout the day, but her head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton from the moment she reached her dorm. It wasn't unlike the feeling she had after her first brutal Quidditch practice, where her adrenaline had died down and all that was left was peaceful numbness.

Her owl, Snape, sat perched on the foot of her bed. He preferred to spend his mornings at the owlery with his feathered friends, but since she claimed him as her pet, he liked to sleep on her bedside table. Hannah thought it was freaky but Lucy thought he was the most adorable little owl on the planet.

Snape's soft hoot wasn't enough to break her from her cloud-like state. She hadn't the energy to rub at her eyes. Maybe Riddle would help motivate her... if he was in a better mood, at least. Flint really set him off earlier.

"Riddle?" Her voice felt strangely muffled in her empty room. "You there?"

He appeared sitting on her bed, looking down at her. "Yes," he said quietly. "You look tired."

"Only a little," she admitted. Grayble looked at her strangely, thinking she was talking to him. She scratched under his chin to make up for it. "Are you mad at me?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. Her voice had come out more worried than she wanted it to be. "No, of course not. Why would I be mad at you?" he said, perplexed.

"I dunno, you weren't too happy at the Quidditch pitch." She could barely remember the string of events. The ceiling above her seemed to spin.

Riddle nodded, pursing his lips. He looked like he was considering what to say."Being a Slytherin doesn't hold the weight it used to," he said carefully. "To see Salazar's house acting in such a way... it upset me."

She frowned. "Because they called me a mudblood? They might not be wrong about that."

"You're not a mudblood." Riddle's voice snapped at her so severely that she actually jumped. Seeing this, he sighed and softened his features. "Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you," he said in a soothing voice. "Trust me on this, Lucy... You're too powerful to be a mudblood. You and I are different. Special."

"If you say so," she said. It was clear she didn't fully believe him but she decided not to press the issue. "Do you think I'm... too mean, sometimes?"

She didn't know where this was coming from, but the words seemed to fall out of her mouth without her saying so. She was too lucid to care much about it. Riddle shook his head, smiling gently at her. This was the nicest he had ever been to her.

"Of course not. You're ambitious, that's all. I was, too." He looked past her, drawing up a memory. "You and I, we're different, Lucy. We see things... clearly. There aren't any boundaries, not really. In magic or in general. You can't cheat in a game if there are no rules in the first place..."

She wasn't really processing his words, but she nodded anyway. He continued. "Flint... He had no right to insult you. Threaten you. I wanted desperately to curse him, but I find myself without a body." His eyes turned dark, and his jaw clenched as he stared at the wall. "I grow weary of waiting."

"You're pretty good at monologues, Tom," Lucy said. She laughed to herself. "I ought to write it down."

Riddle stopped glaring and chuckled. He looked down at her again. "There's no need for that."

"Why's that?" Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she could only feel his voice in her ears.

"Because you won't remember any of this."

And then blackness washed over her like a calming wave.