Lucy woke up the next morning, a dull throbbing in her temple that only worsened when she saw what time it was. Five minutes past noon. Now, this was all well and jolly on any other day, but this just so happened to be a weekday and she had a little thing called 'class' to get to. She glowered at her alarm clock. Mrs. Cole had given it to her. Even hundreds of miles away, the old woman still caused her suffering.

She went to get out of bed, but in her brilliance she managed to catch her foot in her blankets. She fell face first into the mahogany wood floor, groaning.

"Good one," an amused voice said.

She didn't bother getting up. For one, she was still very tired and for another, she didn't know she was going to make eye contact with Tom after the previous night. She hated crying in front of people, and he was the coolest of her friends. You can never cry in front of a cool friend... She sighed and rested her cheek against the cold floor.

"That's it," she said dramatically. "I'm dropping out!"

She saw Tom's legs pass in front of her. Did he walk through her? Git. Unwillingly, she pulled her eyes up to see him giving her an amused look.

"And what do you plan to do out of Hogwarts?" he asked.

She pretended to think about it. She rolled onto her back and stroked her chin. This was how professionals thought.

"Maybe tax fraud is my calling," she said decidedly.

Tom gave her a flat look. "Yes, the Darkest Art of tax evasion suits you fine, Lucy," he said sarcastically. "Anyway, you didn't have to rush in the first place; Herbology is canceled due to a blizzard."

"How do you know?" She wondered.

"Just because you were sleeping doesn't mean I was," Tom said, like it was obvious. "That Locke girl mentioned it in passing. I'd have woken you up if you were running late."

She grinned despite herself. "You're such a good alarm clock, Tom."

"On second thought, you're on your own."

He leaned back against the wall, and Lucy sat up, observing her dormitory. It was empty— she had locked it, after all— but the lack of friends inside it was depressing all the same. She was surprised she slept in so late, but then again, yesterday had been rather stressful.

She was less upset with the fact that she had gained a mysterious ability to speak Parseltongue— it was off putting, certainly, but at the end of the day, there was no real loss. If it wasn't snowing, she was half-tempted to find a snake just to have a conversation. She was more upset that her friends— ex-friends— formed a militia against her. They refused to hear her out. Lucy knew she wasn't the most moral of people, but she'd do anything for her friends... If she caught any one of them red-handed at the scene of a crime, she'd still go out of her way to ask them the circumstances. Why couldn't they extend the same respect to her?

Their bitter accusations had completely blindsided her. One moment Megan was crying to her about how scared she was, and the next she declared that Lucy was the devil. It made her wonder... had Megan always felt this way? Did they all think she was evil, and this was the first time they decided to say it? The thought disturbed her. She truly thought she could trust them.

At least she had Tom and Harry, the two people whose confidence never wavered for a second. Ron and Hermione had her back too, even if they had been wary of her Parseltongue last night... The whole world could hate her, for all she cared. She'd be alright so long as she had them on her side.

"Soooo, what do you want to do?" Lucy asked, leaning back against her bed. Tom hadn't made fun of her yet, so she wanted to let him take control of the day. It was the least she could do.

"What do I want to do?" he repeated.

"Well, yeah. I'm out of ideas. And it looks like I'll be the only one in here for awhile..." Lucy gestured to the empty beds. The other girls must have cleared their stuff out the night before. How kind of them. "We could set a few beds on fire and see how long it takes anyone to notice—"

Tom quickly cut off that train of thought before she could convince herself to act on it. "Let's not. If you're so bored, why don't you do your homework? The rest of your classes aren't canceled."

"Ugh, that's such a prefect answer," she complained. She heaved herself to her feet anyway. "I suppose it's as good an idea as any. Even Heirs of Slytherin have to do homework..."

He sighed in response and disappeared into the diary. She grinned at the place he'd left and then headed to the bathroom. Thankfully, Hufflepuff didn't have the insulting enchanted mirrors like Gryffindor did; she just about had a heart attack the first time she looked in Hermione's mirror.

Looking at her reflection, she truly looked like a mess. Her eyes were red and puffy from yesterday and her blonde hair was tousled in all directions. She originally planned to brush through it and call it a day, but her plans soon changed as she reached for a chunk of her hair. Was that... was that a feather? No, not just one feather, a ton of feathers scattered across her robes.

"Geez, Snape, did you have to make a nest out of me?" She muttered to herself. Her little owl was able to squeeze through the windows on the ceiling of her underground dorm, but she thought she'd wake up from the breeze. Well, she'd scold her precious boy later— it was definitely time for a shower.

Once she finished, she dressed into her uniform and left the dormitory. She was sort of nervous to walk into the common room. She wasn't as upset as she was last night— she was still hurt, but now she was more irritated than anything— but seeing the others might change her attitude. She even brought Grayble along for moral support. She had only just stepped out of the common room when a blur of red crashed into her.

Daisy looked down at her, relief clear on her features. "Oh, thank Merlin you're here! Dumbledore's been looking for you."

It would have been kinder if she had driven a sword through Lucy's belly.

"For me?" She said faintly. She tried to think of anything she had done recently. She knocked Pucey out and sort of left him for dead, but that was dueling club..."Why?"

"Well... Er, how to say this..."

Anthony suddenly sprinted around the corner, Cedric following closely behind. He took in a long, drawn out gasp when he saw her. "Thank HUFFLEPUFF you're here! If I found out yet another of my cubs had been petrified—"

Wait, what? Lucy stared at him in shock. "Another?" she repeated.

"There's been a triple attack," Daisy explained with a heavy sigh. "Justin was found near the library; Megan and Susan were found near Mrs. Norris's spot... Whoever's doing this had a field day."

"But Susan's a pureblood," Lucy muttered. With the pattern of attacks so far, it didn't make any sense. Was it because she was with Megan? Was she collateral?

"It's a quadruple attack, if you count Nick," Cedric added.

"Of course we don't count Nick, he's dead and not only that, he's a Gryffindor—" Anthony stopped himself upon seeing Daisy's glare. He cleared his throat. "Right, not the time..."

"What does Dumbledore want to see me for?" Lucy demanded. "I've been asleep all morning."

She wasn't as upset with the news as she would have been, oh, maybe a week ago. She only dreaded the other Hufflepuffs' reactions. It was horrible timing. She spoke Parseltongue in front of the entire school, and on top of that, everyone had seen how angry Megan and Justin were with her... If they were so scared of her they should have stayed in a group, she thought scathingly.

"Everyone saw Harry with a newly petrified Justin," Cedric explained. "Dumbledore's got to investigate, I suppose, and you're the only other Parslemouth in the school..."

"Not that we think you did it," Anthony said hastily upon seeing Lucy's glare. "We know you'd never do something like that; Colin was your friend... Still, it'll only look more suspicious if you don't see Dumbledore. C'mon, I'll show you the way."

Lucy sighed and followed him. It wasn't like she had a choice in the matter, and if Harry was being interrogated, she wanted to back him up. She just wished she didn't have to start her day off by seeing Headmaster Dumbledore. It was a bad omen, in her opinion.

For the first time in her life, she felt awkward walking beside Anthony. How much had the others told him? He looked after all the first years, not just her, and if all of them had turned against her...

"Sooooo," Anthony began casually, examining his fingernails. "Heard about your guys' fight..."

She snorted. It wasn't much of a fight. More like a witch hunt where she was declared guilty without being given a trial.

"...And I want to let you know that I don't approve of it, not one bit."

Anthony's tone had a sternness to it that Lucy had rarely heard before, and she looked at him in surprise. She often forgot that he was a prefect. He didn't usually act like one, but now he had an air of maturity about him that she'd expect from the likes of Percy.

"I'll look out for my fellow Hufflepuffs, but I won't support them when they're behaving in such a way," he said. "After you went to bed, Daisy and I checked on them— and to put it kindly, they didn't have a lot of nice things to say. In fact, the things they accused you of were quite... Well, rude and immature. Daisy chewed them out, 'course a bunch of angry twelve-year-olds didn't like that. Anyway, yeah, I wasn't too happy with them. I'd never want them to get petrified—"

"Me neither," she agreed quickly. She didn't feel terrible that they did, but she wouldn't openly wish it upon them. If they did have to get petrified, she wished it hadn't been so close after their fight. "I didn't mind that they thought I was the Heir of Slytherin... Kind of a cool title, to be honest," she grinned.. She sobered herself quickly. "But saying I've been working for Voldemort since first year was kind of pushing it."

Once all of this was resolved, she wasn't sure if she'd even like to become friends with them again. She still cared for them, that wouldn't fade overnight, but if they thought so poorly of her to think she'd attack her friends— well, that wasn't really a friendship, was it?

"Yeah, they mentioned that to me too," Anthony sighed, shaking his head. "I hope this madness gets cleared up soon. The professors are thinking of canceling Quidditch, Lucy. Quidditch! And I haven't even had the chance to send a Bludger at the Weasleys!"

They arrived at a huge, ugly gargoyle. Before he did anything, he grinned and ruffled her newly brushed hair, earning a scowl from her. "Keep your head up, cub. Not to sound like a cheesy mum or anything, but you know your truth. Give Dumbledore hell, will you?"

She laughed, taking his hand off her head. She wondered how Dumbledore would react if she 'gave him hell'. Probably just stare at her disappointedly. "I'll get right on that, Anthony."

"Wonderful! Anyway, yeah, Lemon Drop."

At first she thought he saw 'lemon drop' out of nowhere and she was about to question his sanity, but evidently, it was a password. The gargoyle sprung to life and jumped to the side. The wall behind it split down the middle, revealing a grand entrance. She stepped inside. The walls closed behind her, not unlike a cell door. The spiral staircase moved like an escalator and despite her nerves, she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the drama of it all. Did Dumbledore need a moving staircase?

She let the staircase take her to the upper level. She stopped in front of a wooden door and after a moment's hesitation, she knocked once. The door swung wide open.

She stepped inside just as Harry got up from the chair across from Dumbledore's desk.

"Hey, Harry!" Lucy beamed at him. Then she realized that was inappropriate of her, considering three people had just been attacked, all of which were her friends. She cleared her throat. "I mean, hello, Harry," she said solemnly.

"Hey, Luce," Harry waved. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, I reckon. Interrogation. A life of danger. You're such a criminal, Harry."

"Wow, thanks," he rolled his eyes. "After I defended you to Ernie, too..."

"You did?" Lucy said, touched.

He nodded, "'Course I did!"

"This is why you're my favorite."

"Thanks."

She remembered she was here for a reason. She quickly glanced at Dumbledore. Thankfully the Headmaster was amused at their interaction. She smiled back at Harry. "You're a good man, Potter, but this is my interview."

He smiled, shaking his head as he left the office. She took the seat he vacated, sinking into the comfy chair. Now that Harry was gone, the air in the room was a lot heavier. She felt incredibly small under Dumbledore's intense stare.

"Might I interest you in a lemon drop?" he said pleasantly, as if his gaze wasn't burning holes into her head.

She brightened up. "Yes, please." This might be an interrogation but she had to try the sweet he'd named as his password. She unwrapped one, and in the silent office the only sound was her trying to unwrap her plastic wrapper. It took a stupid amount of time. Dumbledore was very patient, and finally she managed it and tried one.

She hated it. But the Headmaster was looking at her, so she grinned and beared it.

"I've been better, I suppose," she shrugged. Her best bet was honesty. As long as he didn't ask about her extra-curricular spells, she'd be fine. "Everyone thinks Harry and I are the Heirs of Slytherin, so I guess that's sort of a downer."

If he was taken aback by her bluntness, he didn't show it. He allowed himself a small smile and said, "Yes, I imagine it would be... In regards to that, I did not know you could speak Parseltongue, Lucy."

Wow, what an excellent subject change. Tom thought so too, and he muttered, "He thinks he's so smooth."

She tried desperately to fight a smile. Tom had to shut up otherwise she'd burst out laughing in Dumbledore's face, and that was so not what she needed right now.

"Neither did I, Professor. I didn't even know what a Parselmouth was. Seems like it's bad if I'm in your office because of it," she gestured around her vaguely.

She had a talent for saying objectively cheeky things in an innocent tone. She was certain the highly intelligent Headmaster picked up on it, but he chuckled all the same. "I wouldn't call it a bad trait— an uncommon one, but not bad."

"Yeah, right," Tom scoffed.

It was worse, hearing his voice without being able to see his facial expression. At least then she could see it coming. She reached for another lemon drop in hopes that it would keep her from laughing.

"Are you feeling alright, Lucy?" Dumbledore eyed the pained look on Lucy's face. Then he had a look of realization on his face. "Forgive me— It slipped my mind that it was your friends who were attacked."

He must have thought himself clever for working that one out. He didn't know it was from the lemon drop... Oh god these candies sucked...

"Yes, it was a bit of a shock," she agreed, playing into his concern. The sooner she could wash away the bitter feeling in her mouth, the better. "And... Harry was the one who found Justin, right Professor? He's not in any trouble, is he?"

"No, Harry is quite innocent. I did not believe he was involved anyway, but Hagrid quickly asserted that Harry had been with him minutes before Justin was found... And, of course, he would not have had enough time to attack Megan and Susan, both of whom were far away..."

Lucy sighed in relief. If there ever came a time Harry was accused of attacking students, she'd make sure to take the blame. Thankfully it didn't have to come to that.

Dumbledore had not asked her many questions, but evidently he had gathered all he needed to know. He eased up on his burning look and offered her a kinder smile. "I think I've kept you from your morning long enough, Lucy. But I must ask you— is there anything you'd like to tell me? Anything at all?"

She thought hard about it. Harry heard a voice in the walls, but she wasn't about to tell the Headmaster that piece of information. It was Harry's business to tell. She thought about telling Dumbledore that Dobby mentioned Voldemort, but that could lead to too many difficult questions. She didn't want to get Harry or Dobby into trouble.

"No, Professor," she said, and it wasn't a lie. She could honestly say she didn't want to tell him anything. "Nothing at all."

His smile was as pleasant as ever. "Thank you for your time, Lucy."

She left his office, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't believe a word she said.

If the school had been nervous before, the quadruple attack had sent them into an all out frenzy.

Two things in particular had heightened the fear in the castle; for one, a pureblood had been attacked. Susan Bones was a Hufflepuff, but she was from a respected pureblood family. It made the Slytherins walk closer together, wondering if they fit the description for 'enemies of the heir'. Another peculiar detail— how could a ghost be petrified?

Lucy spent countless hours in the library with Hermione researching, but so far they'd found nothing. Petrification spells wore off after a while. None of her readings mentioned anything that could petrify an already dead being.

"I've got it!" she said suddenly after nearly an hour of looking through books.

Hermione's head snapped over to her. "Really?" she said eagerly. "What is it?"

"A papercut!"

Lucy held up her bleeding finger. Hermione narrowed her eyes and held up her book, poised to hit her, when a snide voice rang from behind them.

"Careful, Granger, she might petrify you."

Lucy turned around to give Malfoy an incredulous look. "Malfoy? What are you doing in the library?" she demanded. "Does your mother know?"

"Does your mother know?" he countered.

Geez, someone was testy today. Lucy rolled her eyes. "The orphan jokes are so last year, Malfoy. Anyway, why so snide? Did someone dare to breathe on you or something? Did you find out Lockhart beat you out for Witch Weekly's Most Stunning Smile Award?"

"Actually, it's Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award," Hermione corrected automatically.

Lucy was very disappointed in her friend. She exchanged a grim look with Malfoy. "I think I am going to have to petrify her," she sighed. "You know, now that we're all together, I think we can start to bond a little more. What's your favorite color, Malfoy?"

"Rochester, you're going to make me throw up. Please stop."

"It'll be me, you, Hermione, maybe we'll get a Ravenclaw to make it a packaged team—"

"If you don't stop—"

"You'll do what?" Lucy mimed terror, clutching her chest. "Are you going to throw a snake at me? Whatever will I do—? Oh, wait, I can talk to snakes. Lucy: 1. Malfoy: 0."

She said the last part in Parseltongue. Hermione's jaw dropped while Tom's voice echoed with laughter around her.

Ever since Dumbledore interrogated her, she leaned into the whole 'Heir of Slytherin' thing. It became clear that people were going to avoid her no matter what she did, so she might as well have some fun with her reputation. In her empty dorm, she conjured up a snake for herself and taught herself to speak Parseltongue on command. It wasn't hard; she just had to imagine a snake with all her might, and it would work.

In Lockhart's class, she liked to answer his questions using Parseltongue. It made her year-mates glare at her, but Lockhart thought it was good fun.

Malfoy wasn't as impressed. "I regret talking to you," he said, turning back to his homework.

"Well you know what, Malfoy? You're stupid."

"Lucy, please, people are staring," Hermione begged.

She looked around her and sure enough, most students stopped working to stare at her uneasily. She didn't understand why they were so surprised. The entire school knew she could speak Parseltongue at this point, why was saying it any different? People were weird.

Harry was decidedly not as amused by people calling him the Heir. Lucy knew it was a touchy subject for him— he told her the hat nearly put him and Slytherin, and his wand was linked up to Moldevort's. When people would avoid him in the corridors, he took it personally.

So, to balance it out, Lucy made a spectacle of herself. And so everyone avoided her even more than they avoided Harry. Out of her entire house, her fellow Quidditch players were the only ones to keep associating with her. Well, apart from Herbert Fleet, he was kind of a tosser.

With her friends at her side, she could see the humor in all of it. People ran from her as she walked down the halls. She swore she saw at least two seventh year Ravenclaws flinch when she sneezed. Tom shared her humor, but he warned her not to draw too much attention to herself. She ignored him.

Fred and George were just as tickled as she was by everything. They marched Harry down the corridors shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin!"

Anthony could not let the twins one up him. He was walking Lucy to Transfiguration when he heard their cursed battle cry, and he let out a huge gasp. He threw his book bag to the side and, tugging Lucy along, he marched straight up to Fred and George.

"How dare you, Weasleys?!" He demanded, presenting Lucy before them. "I have the Heir— behold Lucy Rochester, the real Heir of Slytherin!"

Lucy snickered as the twins left Harry's side to face off against Anthony.

"Stop your blasphemy, Rickett!" Fred glared.

"Yes," George continued. "Denying Halazar Pytherin's birthright will end in your demise!"

"Halazar Pytherin," Harry had never looked more dead inside.

"You can try and kill me all you want, Tweedle-Dee, but with the Dark Lady's ancient powers, she will resurrect me!"

Lucy nodded, solemn as ever. Percy was not as amused. He stalked over to the three boys, glowering at them. "It is not a laughing matter," he said coldly. "People have been attacked."

"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," Fred scoffed.

George moved to Percy's side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Yeah, Harry's off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant," he grinned, ruffling his brother's hair.

Percy scowled and elbowed him away. Big mistake— the twins took resistance as a challenge, and in a matter of seconds, Fred and George had wrestled Percy to the ground. All of this in the middle of the hallway as students tried to get to their next class.

"You could give them detention, you know," Lucy pointed out.

Anthony didn't take his eyes off the fight. He shrugged. "I'd rather watch them fight each other."

"Fair enough. But we should get to class." Harry said, noticing the stares of his peers.

Lucy looked him in the eyes. "That's quitter talk, Potter," she said grimly.

"Talking to him in your secret language isn't fair!" Anthony pouted.

She grinned. She particularly liked to speak Parseltongue to Harry in Herbology. Her fellow Hufflepuffs always shot her looks bordering on fear and anger. It was petty of her, certainly, but it was their own fault they were making a big deal out of it. Justin, Megan, and Susan were still alive, weren't they? They'd wake up by the end of the year and from her research on petrification, it seemed like they were in a magical coma, unaware of anything around them.

"Life isn't fair, dear Anthony, but that's beside the point." She linked her arm through Harry's and cast one last glance to the three brawling Weasleys. "Let us Heirs leave these red haired peasants to their own devices," she sniffed. "What do you say, Halazar?"

He gave her an exasperated look. He was glad his friends could find humor in it all, but he absolutely did not need that nickname. "Please tell me that's not sticking."

"Oh, it definitely is," she laughed.

He sulked all the way to Charms.

Christmas Break was fast approaching. She was one of the few to remain at Hogwarts. Every sane person wanted to get out of Hogwarts while they still could. She could understand why, but personally, she'd rather face off against Salazar Slytherin's monster than spend another second at Wool's Orphanage. All the Weasleys stayed behind too, and with the exception of Hermione, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, the entire castle was deserted. She couldn't wait to have most of the castle to herself, although she'd miss the fearful looks her classmates sent her way.

For the first time in her life, she had money set aside. A few days before term ended, Tom showed her how to order gifts through owl mail and she managed to place orders for two things in particular.

"You're getting Dumbledore woolen socks?" Tom repeated, giving her a shocked look. "Lucy, did you by chance hit your head this morning?"

"Listen, I don't want to do this anymore than you want me to, but I made a promise to myself last year," Lucy said grimly.

"You need to develop impulse control at some point, Lucy." She stared at him blankly, and he sighed. "Yes, wishful thinking, I know."

Her second gift was for Mallory, of course. She ordered her a silver, serpent ring. She wasn't sure if the woman was one for accessories, but since Mallory was a Slytherin, anything with a snake was a safe bet.

For her other friends, she stayed up that night making them all cards. She sat criss-crossed on her bed, and Tom sat across from her, reading out of Riddle's Book. Every so often she'd have to turn the page for him.

"Hey, how do you spell Arachnophobia?" Lucy wondered, looking up from her card.

"A-R-A-C-H-N-O-P-H-O-B-I-A," he said without a moment's hesitation.

She scrawled it down and then gave him an impressed look. "Have you ever thought of entering a spelling bee?"

"It was my life goal. How did you know?" he said sarcastically. He looked away from the book to survey her card.

Lucy was not an artist, not in the slightest, so she had nicked one of Malfoy's Lockhart books and cut out the pages inside it. He was going to be very confused later on. If he didn't want her to steal it, he shouldn't have taken it to class with him.

"Why are you cutting out an Acromantula?"

"Ron's card," she explained and paused to place a sticking charm on the cut-out. "He's scared of spiders, remember? I'm putting a picture of Salazar Slytherin in Harry's, then I'm putting a troll in Hermione's."

"Why waste all that effort? A simple note would have sufficed," Tom pointed out..

"It's not wasting effort, if it's for your friends. 'Sides, I don't have to make a ton of them anymore." She threw a pointed glance to the empty beds around her. That was now six less cards she had to make.

"Good riddance," he scoffed. "I always knew they were worthless— you should have cursed them. That would have put them in their places."

Lucy only shrugged. If her year-mates didn't like her, there was nothing she could do about it. In her opinion, she'd gotten enough revenge without having to raise her wand to them; speaking Parseltongue in class and threatening to petrify Malfoy each Transfiguration class certainly put them on edge.

"Don't you want revenge?" he continued, giving her a searching look. "They treated you like dirt under their shoes. Aren't you angry?"

"I'm annoyed," she conceded. But she didn't want to hurt them for their words; that would only prove them right. "But they're not worth my time. I have all my other friends, and they're more than enough. Sometimes you just have to let things go."

"You weren't even a little gratified when three of them were attacked?" Tom said doubtfully.

She hesitated. Okay, yes, she had been a little pleased to hear they had been petrified. Was it terrible of her? Absolutely. But at this point, Lucy didn't care if she was a bad person because of it. If she dwelled on every poor thought she had, she'd go insane.

"Yeah, I suppose," she said, fighting a smirk. "It's just— they had to have seen the attacker the moment before it happened... Imagine how silly they must have felt, seeing it wasn't me?"

Tom laughed harder than she expected him to. "I imagine they felt something," he chuckled, shaking his head. Seeing her confused look, he suppressed a smile and cleared his throat. "You should finish your cards."

She continued staring at him for a few moments before rolling her eyes, turning back to her work. "And you call me the weird one," she muttered.

He only smirked and focused back on his book.

"You must be rubbing off on me."