Although she knew it was coming, Lucy could scarcely believe it was already Christmas Break.
She woke up the first day with nothing to do. Her homework was finished, and while learning was fun and all, she felt like if she had to read one more paragraph about magical theory, she might tear her eyes out of her head. Tom was off in loser-land or whatever he did in the diary and for once, she had to decide what to do all by herself.
This was never a good thing.
"I wonder what Snape's doing," she said to no one in particular. The dormitory was empty along with all of the Hufflepuff common room. She had nothing but her brain and her will, and most importantly, no one to stop her. Her eyes lit up as a brilliant idea came to mind... She was going to perform a prank. A heist, even.
She readied herself for war, putting her diary in her skirt pocket. Learning the Extension Charm was her most brilliant idea yet. She liked her bag and all, but it got to be a bit conspicuous, especially with Dumbledore glaring at her all the time. Plus, there was always the chance that Snape would confiscate it if he caught her. Even though he would not catch her.
She walked carefully through the corridors, keeping an eye out for Filch. It was harder to notice the man since his cat was petrified and everything... Stupid Heir of Slytherin. They just had to petrify a cat— it was the lamest attack ever.
"And then I bested the forest of Whomping Willows... Quick work, you know, all you have to do is give it a little wave—"
Lucy cursed and ducked behind a tapestry. Peeking through, she could see Lockhart pass by with a grumpy looking Professor Sprout beside him.
"I am perfectly capable of tending the Mandrakes on my own, Gilderoy," Professor Sprout didn't even try to hide her disdain. Lucy smirked; it was funny seeing her usually cheerful head of house look ready to hex a man. "I'm sure you have papers to grade."
"Not at all! My students have been doing practical work recently," Lockhart said, beaming.
By 'practical work', he meant that he'd been reenacting his various adventures. Once, Lucy told him that Malfoy's dream was to become an actor, and if the sullen expression on Malfoy's face after he left class meant anything, Lockhart had tried to rope him into it.
Lucy decided to take pity on Professor Sprout. After they passed, she left the tapestry and called after them. "Professor Lockhart, Snape's been looking for you!"
He turned around, pleasantly surprised. "Severus? Oh my, what for?"
"He's been looking for hair care tips," she said with utmost sincerity. "Now, don't let his shyness scare you off— he's been very earnest about it."
Professor Sprout looked like she was debating whether or not to put a stop to Lucy's blatant lies. If she had any doubts, they disappeared once Lockhart changed course and headed toward her. "I'd be glad to help a fellow professor!" He glanced at Professor Sprout. "Terribly sorry, Pomona, but duty calls!"
"It's quite alright." Sprout said hastily. "A point to Hufflepuff for initiative, Lucy."
Somewhere in the castle, Lucy was sure Hermione screamed.
She allowed Lockhart to lead her down the corridor toward Professor Snape's office. "I was surprised to see you stayed behind, Lucy! Not scared of the monster, are you?" he said, winking.
"Not at all, Professor," she said with a grin. "I reckon people are a little more scared of me these days."
"Yes, the Parseltongue has been great fun," he chuckled. While most Professors scolded her for hissing in class, Lockhart was the only one who found the humor in it all, and for that she respected him a little more.
Just a little. She would never forget, he once teared up over a picture of himself.
"I'm glad you think so, Professor. Not everyone has a sense of humor." She held back a smirk when she saw how flattered he was. She had a reputation of troublemaking from last year; it was refreshing to have a blank slate such as Gilderoy Lockhart to have on her side. She still thought he was an idiot, but hey, even idiots could be useful sometimes. As long as he didn't raise a wand against Harry ever again, she wouldn't set him on fire.
Or confound him. Or turn his belongings into stone— okay, that was stretching it, she still might turn a few things into stone.
"I wonder, Professor, did you go to Hogwarts with Professor Snape?" It was a question she'd been dying to ask. She couldn't imagine Snape as a teenager. He was probably even more brooding than he was now.
"I did, actually," Lockhart said, giving her a mischievous look like it was some sort of secret. "He was four years ahead of me. He caused quite a bit of trouble, you know— he cast some sort of curse on Remus Lupin. Nearly killed him with the way he was bleeding; I, of course, rushed to get help as soon as I could! But I am glad to see Severus has reformed his ways... Perhaps he's taken inspiration from me."
As she did with most things Lockhart said, she took this with a grain of salt. She was a hundred percent certain he didn't see it happen and he hadn't gone to get help, but with most of his stories, there was a grain of truth to it all. It lined up with what Mallory told her about Professor Snape. He was a Death Eater once, it wasn't a surprise he'd injure a fellow student in such a way...
Lockhart saw her consider his story and he hastily added, "Although it wouldn't do to spread what I've told you around, Lucy. Some stories are better kept in the shadows... Unless you can profit off of them!"
"Your secret is safe with me, Professor," Lucy smiled.
Finally, they arrived at Professor Snape's office. Lockhart rapped on the door and when there was no answer, he opened it anyway. She half hoped Snape was in there just to see his reaction to Lockhart barging in, but alas, the office was empty. Still, now she could do as she pleased without the fear of getting caught.
"He must be in the Great Hall," she concluded. "Even better— maybe Professor Dumbledore would appreciate a few tips as well. I've noticed his beard has lost a bit of its shine, don't you think?"
"I could never say such a thing about the Headmaster," Lockhart said, but the arrogant gleam in his eye showed that he agreed with her. "I'd hate to disappoint Severus, if he's so eager. Will you be alright on your own?"
Any other professor wouldn't dare leave a second year alone with a monster on the loose. Once again, Lucy thanked the existence of idiots in the world. "Yes, my common room is close by," she said.
He gave her one final wave and sauntered away. She waited until he turned the corner, then she darted into Snape's office.
"Phase two begins," she whispered dramatically.
She went straight over to his desk. She pulled on the handle, but it seemed that Snape had noticed his pens disappearing. She rolled her eyes, did he think she was an amature? "Alohomora," she said, almost lazily. The lock clicked, and she opened it easily.
Her eyes lit up at the sight. So. Many. Pens. He had upped his stash. She glanced at the door and then quickly shoveled them all into her pockets, making sure not to leave a single one behind. She closed and locked the drawer when she was finished.
She had gone through a lot of trouble to get into his office, and she wasn't satisfied yet. She scanned the room, thinking, before a brilliant idea occurred to her.
"Tom," She called. Nothing. She pulled the diary out and held it up to her face. "Tooooooom!" Still nothing. "Tom Riddle. My favorite book. My close friend. My dearest ally. The Tom Sawyer to my Huckleberry Finn, my partner in crime—"
"Good Merlin, what do you want?!"
Tom appeared glaring in front of her. She stared back at him, a bright smile on her face. He gave her a suspicious look. "Well?" he said impatiently.
"In a totally hypothetical, completely responsible way... how does one perform a sticking charm?"
Lucy arrived at the Great Hall for dinner as cheerful as one could possibly be. Although there were only four people outside of the seven Gryffindors, the four house tables were still set up. A few decorations lined the hall but it was clear there was supposed to be a grand reveal, just like there had been last Christmas.
Hermione saw her approach and immediately asked, "What have you done?"
Lucy gave her an innocent look. "Whatever do you mean, dear Hermione?"
After she and Tom performed The Heist, she hid in her common room until dinner time. They entertained themselves by playing several rounds of Wizard's Chess, then they got so bored that she resorted to changing the couches to different colors for the fun of it.
"You've got that look in your eyes," she said suspiciously.
"Do you mean Christmas Spirit? Because yes, I've got loads of it, thank you." Lucy reached for a biscuit, pretending not to notice the suspicious looks the others gave her.
"If you say so..." Harry said slowly.
George narrowed his eyes at her. "If we find out you've gotten up to mischief—"
"Without us!" Fred cut in.
"Then we will be very disappointed in you!"
"Mischief? Me? Haven't you heard? I'm responsible now," Lucy sniffed.
"Luce, saying you're responsible over and over again doesn't mean you are responsible," Harry said.
"Of course it does! I haven't gotten detention in a month!" Lucy said proudly.
The doors to the Great Hall suddenly banged open, and a furious Professor Snape stormed in. "ROCHESTER!" He shouted.
Everyone's eyes turned to her. But since there were only eleven sets of eyes besides the professors, the effect wasn't as dramatic as it could have been.
Lucy turned around and faced Snape with a pleasant smile on her face. "Evening, Professor Snape. Can I help you with something?"
Snape loomed over her. She thought the vein in his forehead might burst if it pulsed anymore. "Would you care to explain why my furniture is on the ceiling?!" He hissed.
She blinked at him. "The ceiling, professor? Are you sure you weren't on the ceiling, looking at it right side up?"
Ron and Harry turned away to hide their laughter; the twins weren't as polite as they laughed at Snape's twisted expression. Hermione only sighed.
"I am quite sure," he said tersely. She began fixing herself a bowl of cereal, even though it was dinner time. He continued speaking, his voice raising in volume as he went. "Are you aware that using a permanent sticking charm on a Professor's belongings is grounds for expulsion?"
Lucy shoveled cereal into her mouth, nodding along. "I'm sure it is, Professor," she said through a mouthful. Snape's anger turned to slight disgust and she had to fight a grin. Slytherins were so proper. She swallowed, then waved her spoon at him. "You'd better find out who did this straight away!"
"I know very well who did this," Snape said coolly. "I will be having a talk with your Head of House, until then I think detention for the rest of—"
"Now, Severus!"
While Lucy hadn't been bothered in the slightest, she was still glad to see Lockhart saunter over to them. Snape's lip curled at his voice. "This is hardly your business, Gilderoy—"
"It couldn't have been dear Lucy," Lockhart said, tisking at the professor. "She and I had the most wonderful chat earlier today, and I saw her to her common room. She wouldn't wander the school in such dangerous times, would you, Lucy?" He winked at her.
She vaguely waved her spoon at him. "Yeah, what he said," and then she took another mouthful.
Snape looked like he might kill Lockhart on the spot. She was used to those looks, and it seemed at this point, Lockhart was as well because the man didn't back down.
Finally, Snape relented, but he glared at Harry who was reading out of his Charms textbook. "Detention, Potter. No books at the table." And with that, he stalked to the High Table where Professor Sprout was trying desperately to hide a smile.
Harry turned to her, outraged. "You!" He pointed an accusing finger at her. "You did this!"
"Halazar, us Heirs have got to stick together," Lucy said soothingly. "It's alright if you put Snape's furniture on the ceiling, I won't judge you."
She dodged a swipe he sent at her arm.
Lockhart chuckled, "I figured it was you, Lucy. Ordinarily I would never support such mischief—" he winked again. "—but... it is Severus. He wasn't very happy with my suggestions, but I dare say he needed to hear it. Your detention is waved, Harry! Enjoy your meal, children. Farewell, Ms. Granger."
He walked to the High Table and he had enough sense to sit as far away from Snape as possible.
Hermione's cheeks turned a pink color, but Percy stared at Lockhart with raised eyebrows. "Can professors cancel other professors' detentions?"
"Lockhart can," Lucy smirked. "He and I are friends now."
Ron glowered at her. "Traitor! You hated Lockhart! You hexed him every chance you got!"
"People change, Ronald," she said solemnly. She laughed at his skeptical expression. "In other words, now he lets me do whatever I want, so I like him."
"What is with you and getting evil professors to like you?" Harry said, amused.
Lucy shrugged. She couldn't help it if she attracted the evil sort, and now that she thought about it, she really did: there was Quirrell and/or Voldemort, Mallory regularly cursed testy customers, and Lucius Malfoy liked her for some reason... Well, it was better than the lot of them hating her. She found enough trouble without anyone out for her blood.
"He's not evil," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "But Lucy, did you really use a permanent sticking charm? That's really serious, they never wear off!"
Lucy decided not to add that she'd also used that charm to attach a tanning oil advert on Mr. Filch's door.
Hermione likely wouldn't appreciate that.
"You heard Lockhart, I was in the common room," Lucy said innocently.
Fred glared at her. "How dare you do something so stupid—"
"And so brilliant—" George continued.
"WITHOUT US!" They finished.
"Sometimes, boys, you have an immediate destiny to fulfill, and you cannot stop for anyone, lest you lose your way," Lucy intoned in a wistful voice that was more suited for an ancient wizard like Professor Dumbledore.
Her friends stared at her, astonished.
"That was an incredibly insightful thing to say, and I can't believe you said it in regards to a prank on Snape," Tom said in her ear.
She usually didn't jump when he appeared, but this time it came out of absolutely nowhere. Her arm jerked forward and the spoonful of cereal went flying out of her hand, hitting George in the forehead with a TINK! He stared at her, stunned, as he slowly wiped the food off his face.
"Lucy Rochester..." he said softly, dabbing at his forehead with a napkin.
Lucy turned to glare furiously at Tom. You did this, she thought. He smiled innocently back at her.
All of a sudden, something cold hit her cheek. With two of her fingers, she wiped it off and inspected it. Alas, custard.
"Oh, you foolish, foolish boy," she breathed.
Tom's smile slowly faded when he saw her flick her wand, and a pitcher of pumpkin juice levitated off the table. "Please don't..." he began, but suddenly there was juice pouring over the tops of Fred and George's heads. "Oh dear Merlin," he muttered.
"That's IT! It's time you learn, Rickett's girl!" Fred stood up, shaking his soaking wet hair. Drops of pumpkin juice flung out and hit everyone around them as well. Ginny looked ready to throttle him.
Before any professors could come over, Lucy laughed and said, "Scourgify." The juice disappeared from both of them and the floor around them, but of course that would not easily appease the Weasley Twins.
"Outside Hagrid's hut. Midnight," Fred continued, then he looked at everyone around him. "All of you. It's time we continue last year's war..."
Lucy's eyes lit up at the thought. "You don't mean... the Great Snowball War?"
"That's precisely what we mean," George said. He tried to look serious, but he couldn't help but grinning. She was glad they took things so easily; if she'd dumped pumpkin juice over anyone else's head they'd be angry with her for weeks.
Percy leveled them with a glare. "No, absolutely not," he said firmly. "Not only is there a monster on the loose, but running around after curfew is against the rules."
"Pleeeease, Percy?" Lucy widened her eyes at him. She elbowed Ginny, who followed suit. "You won't get in trouble, and if you're with us, there's no way we'll be attacked..."
His ears reddened slightly at the compliment, but otherwise he remained stone-faced. "Be that as it may, you lot shouldn't be roaming around after curfew. You'll lose House Points–"
"Oh, who cares about house points without a Quidditch Cup?" Ginny said exasperatedly.
"And that's indicating that we will get in trouble, dear Percy, which we will not," Fred added. "We've got three seasoned pranksters with us."
Lucy wanted to argue that she wasn't seasoned, she was just incredibly lucky. But it seemed beside the point.
"And I dare say Snape will be too busy with little Lucy's prank to patrol," George continued.
"And if we do get caught, you can say that you caught us all after dark," Lucy concluded. She looked at Percy hopefully, "I wouldn't want to do it without my snowball partner... Please, Percy?"
Then, something happened that nobody in a million years would have predicted. Percy Weasley, Prefect and Future Head Boy, the boy who worshipped the rules more than life itself, agreed.
He sighed, glancing at the professors' table. "Fine. But only because I don't want any of you to get petrified, and I swear if we get caught—"
"Percy, you're the best!" Ginny hugged her brother. He was so shocked at being called 'the best' by any of his siblings that he stopped mid-lecture.
Lucy looked at Ron, Harry, and Hermione. "You're in, right?"
Harry and Ron nodded without hesitation. While she didn't look happy about it, Hermione nodded as well. "It would be interesting to see a Wizard's snowball fight," she sighed. "And since you all refused to tell me what happened last year..."
"Great! It's a nice even number, then," George said, grinning.
Not exactly, Lucy thought, looking toward Tom. He was looking at her warily; she'd told him about the last snowball fight they had and its rather dramatic ending.
"What are the odds this doesn't get out of hand?" He asked.
She winked at him. Not good at all.
"I still think this is a terrible idea," Tom informed her as she wrapped her Hufflepuff scarf around her neck. It was nearing midnight, and she wanted to get a move on before Snape decided to seek vengeance on her somehow.
"If you thought it was a bad idea, why'd you teach me a snow golem spell?"
"Just because I think it's a bad idea doesn't mean you shouldn't win," he scoffed.
She laughed as she tucked the diary in her coat pocket. She had asked him if he'd rather stay behind, since there was always the chance the diary got wet, but he hadn't taken to that idea one bit. If anything, he was offended that she'd suggest his brilliant diary would succumb to something as simple as water... He was so dramatic sometimes.
"Have you ever had a snowball fight, Tom?" Lucy wondered as she left the common room.
Tom walked beside her. He gave her a flat look. "Do I seem the type?"
"You never know. Maybe you were a party animal, turned responsible by some ghost-like prefect," she suggested.
"It's times like this when I wonder why I talk to you."
"Ah, you'd be lost without me, Tom."
He rolled his eyes and didn't respond.
She made it to the front of Hagrid's hut without any trouble. With only eleven students remaining at Hogwarts, the professors didn't expect for eight of them to sneak out at night. She wasn't worried about getting attacked by the monster either. For one, she had Tom with her, and also it'd be a bit foolish to go around attacking people when there were only eleven possible suspects. Maybe twelve, if Lockhart did indeed have Voldemort on the back of his head, but that was always a possibility.
Percy paced back and forth, the snow crunching beneath his feet. He was out of his element here. Lucy wagered that this was the first time he'd ever broken a school rule. He jumped when she approached and reflexively pointed at Fred and George, exclaiming, "They're right here!"
"Wonderful," Lucy said bemusedly.
Fred shot him an outraged look. "So quick to sell us out, are you?!"
"Save it for the battlefield, Forge," George advised. He grinned wickedly at Lucy and Percy. "We won't be making a repeat of last year!"
"Does Hagrid know about this?" Hermione craned her head to look at the gamekeeper's hut. Lucy peered around as well. His lights were out and there was a profound lack of Fang's barking.
"He's gone until tomorrow afternoon," Ginny said. "Something's killing his roosters— I don't think the shop will let him buy any more, but he's gone to check anyway."
"Poor roosters," Lucy muttered.
"Poor roosters," Harry agreed.
"Enough about birds! Are we here to fight or not?" George demanded.
Lucy and Percy exchanged a smirk. It was time, and little did Percy know, she had extra luck on her side. Tom liked to pretend he was above such childish things, but she hadn't mistaken the gleam in his eye when he taught her these new spells.
Ginny and Hermione formed a team. Lucy would have to watch out for them. Ginny knew some mean hexes and Hermione... well, she was Hermione. She had loads of clever spells up her sleeve. Fred and George teamed up with Ron and Harry once again, and this suited her fine. She was ready for war.
"Let's make this quick," Percy said, addressing the younger company. "It's all in good fun— don't get out of control, okay?"
It got way out of control.
Fred and George had been training... Waiting, even, and they formed a snow castle to beat all snow castles... Four corners, each lobbied with a snow cannon. Each member of their team resided in one, using an enchanted snowball spell to hurtle endless projectiles at them.
Lucy watched in horror as Ginny was taken out by a six inch diameter snowball. Percy waved his wand but with the onslaught of snow, all he could manage was a wall to hide behind.
"I don't know how much more of this we can take," said Percy tersely. He winced; a huge snowball took a chunk of wall out right above them.
"What happened to the art of strategy, Percy?"
She rolled to the side, narrowly missing the crumbling wall.
"There's the art of strategy and then there's four cannons coming at us all at once!"
"Have faith, Percy..." Lucy held her wand in front of her, and she pointed at the pile of snow Hermione and Ginny were hiding behind. "Nygiutum Ator," she said calmly.
The snow pile glowed red. Percy's eyes widened as the snow shaped into a huge, lumbering creature with arms the size of Ginny. Glimmering in the moonlight, it swung its arms around, and as Lucy laughed, the snow golem laughed, too.
It was positively terrifying.
"WHAT IS THAT THING, LUCY!" Fred shrieked. He aimed his cannon toward it, but the golem absorbed the blow.
"I agree! What is that thing?!" Percy said, aghast.
"That's my son, IDIOTS!"
The golem's mouth moved along with hers; it was like a snow puppet, and by god, did she love her snow son.
"Get them, my son! DESTROY THEM ALL!"
"Lucy, NO!"
The golem charged full speed ahead at their towers. Ron screamed and scrambled out of his tower, jumping into the soft pit of snow beneath him. Her golem swung its arm and felled the tower in a single blow, then it turned to Fred.
"We will hold strong today!" Fred proclaimed. "Give us your worst, the Weasley twins will not—"
"AHHHHH! ABANDON SHIP!"
Like he'd done last year, George dove over the side and landed spread-eagle into the snow.
"TRAITOR!" Fred shouted. The golem rammed its head into the tower, sending him crashing to the ground. He glared mutinously at his twin and brushed the snow off his body. "I'll never forgive you, Gred! NEVER!"
"Come off it, did you see that thing? It would've eaten me for breakfast!"
"I'll eat you for breakfast for leaving me, Georgia!"
"I don't think your figure could handle the extra calories, Forge!"
"Why you—" Fred lunged at him. For them, the snowball fight was long forgotten as they threw punches at one another in the midnight snow.
Ever so slowly, the golem turned to Harry. He stared at Lucy with wide eyes. "Lucy... Listen, we can talk this out..." he whispered.
"Are you ready to join the dark side, Potter?" Lucy said with a wicked smile.
"You know I can't do that—"
"Then we don't really have anything to talk about, now do we? That's the thing with you, Potter, you just can't seem to stay dead."
"Is it always this dark?" Ginny whispered to Percy.
Sighing, he nodded. "Yes, yes it is."
"I will never stop fighting evil, Lucy," Harry said, determined. He raised his chin, staring at the golem defiantly. It was so tall that he looked it straight in the eye. "Go on, then. Do me in."
She went to urge her son onward, lead them to victory, when—
"There will be none of that."
Lucy had failed to consider the unknown variable.
Hermione.
Her sharp voice cut through the night, and all of a sudden, her golem burst into flames.
"NOOOOOOOOO! MY SON!"
Lucy shot a stream of water, but the thing about water is that it melts snow. Horrified, she watched as her son slowly melted away until it was nothing but a red puddle, freezing to ice in the wasteland. She fell to her knees. "I never even got to name him," she whispered.
Ginny and Hermione exchanged an uneasy look.
"So... we win, right?" Ginny asked.
"Yes, you murdered Lucy's son in cold blood, so I'd say you win," Percy said. He clamped a hand on her shoulder and helped her to her feet. "There, there. We always have next year."
Lucy had never felt so broken.
Harry slung an arm around her shoulder, grinning. "Sorry about your son, even if you were about to kill me."
"All's fair in snow and war, I suppose," she sighed. "Let's go warm up, shall we?"
She cast one last sorrowful look to the red puddle, then at the rest of their battlefield. There were four huge, fallen towers and piles of icy debris everywhere.
Hagrid was going to be so confused.
If Tom was at all disturbed by their snowball fight, he refused to admit it. In fact, he refused to acknowledge the event had ever happened— and Lucy didn't bring it up. The snowball fights were a sacred occasion, only bespoken on the day of the event... She would avenge her son...
After curfew, she and Tom alternated between playing Wizard's Chess and practicing all sorts of spells. It ranged from useful, defensive magic to silly spells that would cause the couch to sprout legs and start running away from those who tried sitting in it. Tom never openly laughed at it, but she could tell he was amused.
"Merry FREAKING Christmas, Tom!"
Lucy yelled into the diary after she had gotten ready on Christmas morning, and once again, she was glad she had the entire common room to herself. She could talk to thin air as much as she wanted, and there was nobody around to judge her. It was the only reason she hadn't roomed with Ginny and Hermione during break.
Tom appeared, giving her an unamused look. She had a feeling that shouting into the diary was the magical equivalent to screaming in his ear. Either way, it was effective. "I didn't take you for a holiday sort of person, Lucy," he said wryly.
"Oh, I'm not, but any excuse to act like a madman is good enough for me," she grinned.
"What's your excuse every other day of the year?"
"You're not spreading very much holiday cheer, Mr. Riddle," Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. "I'd go as far as to call you a Grinch."
"A what?"
"I'm not even going to explain. Serves you right for being a Pureblood."
She said it in hopes that it'd spark one of their arguments, but Tom knew her too well at this point. He smirked at her. "That won't work on me anymore, Ms. Rochester. I'm afraid you'll have to find another hobby."
"Darn. You're learning all my tricks," she muttered.
She settled back on her bed and turned her attention to the small pile of gifts near the end of it. She sort of wished she had stayed in the Gryffindor common room after all, but she didn't want to make Tom suffer through listening to Ginny and Hermione giggle about Lockhart, Harry, or both of them. Oh, well. She and Tom entertained themselves well enough. It was a wonder they hadn't destroyed the common room yet.
Tom sank into an armchair and half watched her open her presents and half looked out the window. Lucy saw that he was in his thinking pose, so she decided not to disturb him.
Once again, she was overcome with a rush of gratitude toward Mrs. Weasley. The kind woman knit her another yellow Weasley sweater and sent her a tin of sugar cookies. She already had seven children and who knows how many friends to send gifts to, yet she still took time out of her day to give her and Harry each a sweater. The sentiment made her feel oddly warm inside.
Hermione gave her another book: Quick Spells and Tricks For Magical Maladies. After giving her a book on hexes the previous year, her friend was trying to steer her on the right path... If only Hermione could see the sorts of horrors that dwelled within Riddle's Book. There was a spell to turn someone's teeth inside out. How was that physically possible? Lucy had no idea, nor did she want to find out.
To her surprise, Mallory sent her a gift. She truly hadn't expected anything from the woman– Mallory didn't look like the holiday type. The packaging showed her attitude toward Christmas; it was a small, plain cardboard box. Carefully, Lucy opened it up to see a golden necklace, complete with a light blue gem in the middle. It was embedded in a seven-sided shape. Lucy ran her fingers over the smooth surface, entranced by the sight.
She held it in her hand and reached for the note attached to it.
Kid,
I know you're into dark magic, so here's something different to save your soul. The gem is called Kyanite. It's supposed to be good for something, but who knows, maybe it's a crock of shit.
Thanks for the ring— I have a new hire. His name's Eric and he's a complete and utter idiot. I decked him in his stupid ass face with my ring hand, and it left a nice snake-shaped bruise. It still cracks me up every time I see it.
Anyway, Happy Christmas I guess. You better bloody survive until this summer so I can perform child labor. Every time I see Eric's idiotic face I inch closer toward homicide.
No signature. Lucy grinned, shaking her head. Whoever Eric was, she felt sorry for him. He must have needed the job if he didn't quit as soon as Mallory punched him.
"Hey, Tom, what do you know about Kyanite?" Lucy wondered, clasping the necklace around her neck.
His eyes flickered toward her. She must've drawn him out of a deep thinking session; it was rather funny when he entered them because he always looked like an ancient professor.
"Kyanite? It's a Divination stone. Supposedly, it opens up one's mind to visions."
Huh. Well, Lucy wanted to take Divination next year, so that worked out nicely. She looked down at the necklace again. Despite Mallory claiming she found it in her shop, it looked awfully new.
"Neat," she said, and she swung her legs off the bed. "You're looking at the new biggest seer around these parts, Tom."
He rolled his eyes. "Having a necklace doesn't suddenly make you a Seer. Apart from the very few in the world who have the sight, Divination is largely a load of nonsense. You shouldn't waste your time with it."
She felt oddly offended that he didn't think she could be a Seer. This was how she knew Tom was her friend— he was mean. "Just you wait Tom Riddle. I'm going to predict the heck out of everything. In fact, I predict that you are going to argue with me right now."
"That's not having sight—" Tom stopped and glared at her. "Shut up."
Laughing, she slid the diary into her pocket. "Told you I was a Seer," she joked.
"What will you predict next? The direction of the sunrise? Your infinite knowledge astounds me," he said dryly.
"Sticks and stones, Riddle. Sticks and stones."
They somehow managed to keep from arguing the rest of the morning, and she took the time to immediately send out thank-you notes to Mallory and Mrs. Weasley. She added to the former that her friend was a nonbeliever of divination, which she was sure the woman would find amusing. In her letters to Mallory she often mentioned stupid things she and Tom did or argued about. It was refreshing since she didn't know Lucy's friends, and she could talk about Tom all she wanted without fearing odd questions.
Tom wasn't as pleased about it. He wanted to be kept a secret. He was still a secret— the biggest one she'd ever kept— but it was rather funny seeing Mallory approve of someone she would never be able to see.
After she sent the notes off, Lucy headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione practically manhandled her to the edge of the table toward Ron and Harry, away from the other Weasleys.
"It's ready," Hermione whispered, pointedly glancing toward Malfoy.
Lucy blinked. "What's ready?"
"The Polyjuice potion," she said exasperatedly.
Oh. Right. The potion slipped Lucy's mind most of the time. She wasn't very good at brewing potions– she was better with Tom's help, but still not great without it– so Ron and Hermione took charge of the Polyjuice project. She hardly visited Myrtle's bathroom.
If the potion wasn't enough reason to stay away, interacting with Myrtle did the trick. She won the ghost over, but that was nearly as tiring as Myrtle hating her. Every time she and Harry stepped foot in the bathroom, Myrtle would hover annoyingly close and pester them with compliments and questions.
It was around the fiftieth question when Lucy began researching exorcisms.
"What's the plan, then?" Lucy asked.
"We're going tonight," Hermione said. "I've got Millicent Bulstrode's hair already, and these two are going to get Crabbe and Goyle's hair... There isn't as much potion as I thought there'd be, so I think you'll have to use Harry's cloak."
Lucy didn't mind in the slightest. Potions tasted rotten on the best of days, never mind putting some greasy kid's hair inside of one...
"Brilliant, but won't Malfoy get suspicious if Bulstrode suddenly shows up? She went home for the holidays."
"We're counting on Malfoy being too stupid to question it," Ron informed her.
"It's a solid bet." Harry nodded at the Slytherin table. "He's easily distracted." Lucy followed his gaze and sighed when she saw Malfoy pointing and laughing at Harry's new sweater.
"Point taken."
It was after the feast that they decided to go through with their plan. They weren't as inconspicuous as she would have liked. Snape sent them suspicious glares as Hermione pulled them from the Great Hall, and all she could do was hope he didn't decide to investigate.
Tom, who thought this plan was completely hilarious, lingered at Lucy's side, an amused smirk curling on the corner of his mouth. Lucy was beginning to have fun, too. She was spending her Christmas joining in on a scheme she knew little to nothing about— it sure beat playing Wizard Chess.
Hermione turned and faced the three once they arrived at the staircase. Her hands were clasped behind her back. "We still need a bit of the people you'd changing into," she told them as pleasantly as if she was sending them to fetch her a book.
Lucy nodded. "So I'll cut off a finger. Got it."
"I'm not drinking Crabbe's finger," Ron said at once.
"No, you're not," Hermione shot Lucy an annoyed look. "A bit of hair will do, and I've got a plan for that." Pulling her hands from behind her back, she held up two large chocolate cupcakes. "I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet."
Lucy raised her hand and asked, "Is it too late to fill them with poison instead? Then if we get another cupcake and give one to Malfoy, we've just saved the school."
"And committed murder, which I suspect is a good deal more trouble than freezing a few people," Harry pointed out.
She sighed. Ron patted her on the shoulder. "It was a good thought, Luce."
Hermione gave the three of them disturbed looks. "Make sure you get the hairs, okay? I'm going to check on the potion. And I can't believe I have to say this, but don't kill anyone."
"Every day, my dreams die a little more," Lucy said, giving Tom a sorrowful glance. He smirked back at her. "I'll get the cloak. Feel free to give Crabbe and Goyle a kick from me."
"We'll see," Ron said, but the evil look in his eye showed his true intentions.
Lucy went to leave, but Harry caught up to her at the last moment. He brought her into a tight hug. "Thanks for nicking those files on my dad," he said gratefully. "Ron and I were reading them all morning— it means a lot."
She hugged him back, smiling. "They weren't doing any good in Filch's office collecting dust. Maybe someday we can recreate one of his pranks."
"I don't know... the stuff he did was pretty intense."
Lucy hadn't read the records on James Potter, she wanted Harry to be the first one to look at them on Christmas, but she didn't doubt that he was a troublemaker. Harry's nerve had to come from somewhere.
"As intense as permanently sticking Snape's furniture to the ceiling?"
"Sorry, Luce, but in his first year he permanently stuck McGonagall's shoes to the floor."
She winced. Okay, that was pretty good. And appropriately Gryffindorish.
"This only fuels my resolve, Potter," she warned him. She glanced back at Ron, who was giving them an impatient look. "You'd better go drug Crabbe and Goyle already. See you lot soon."
She began the long walk to the Gryffindor common room. Tom didn't even try to hide his amusement for their plan and he looked awfully smug.
She shot him an amused grin. "Did you get up to anything like this when you were in school?" She wondered.
"Drug my classmates? Not exactly, no." He paused. "Actually, there was one that time."
She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.
"What! You can't just leave it there!" She complained.
"Unrelated, but I also shut down the Care of Magical Creatures class for two years."
"Stop telling me these things, you're making yourself look cool," Lucy said, glaring at him. "If I don't see you as a lame prefect, the world might end."
Tom shoved his hands in his pockets. He had a self satisfied grin on his face. "Lucy, if only you knew the half of what I got up to at Hogwarts... Someday I'll tell you it all."
Well, whatever he did, Lucy still had five years to one-up him. She arrived at the Gryffindor common room and beamed when the Fat Lady glared down at her.
"You again, Hufflepuff? I've changed the password already," the Fat Lady said smugly.
"Pigwig," Lucy said sweetly.
She laughed at the outraged look on the Fat Lady's face and stepped through the portrait hole. She didn't dawdle; she found Harry's cloak under his pillow and held it over her arm. It made her arm completely invisible as she carried it out of the common room.
"Where did Potter get an invisibility cloak?" Tom asked. He surveyed it with an odd expression.
"It belonged to his dad. Dumbledore sent it to him last Christmas. Why Dumbledore had it in the first place, I have no idea."
Hadn't Dumbledore said he had other means of becoming invisible? It seemed odd that he'd have held onto James Potter's cloak for so many years.
"If it's lasted that long, it must be a very strong invisibility cloak," Tom mused. "I wouldn't be surprised if the old fool was keeping it from him on purpose. He likes to collect magical objects."
"So do you," she pointed out, remembering all the things he'd had in his wardrobe along with his other tales of petty theft.
"But I don't pretend that I have good intentions, Lucy, and that's what makes me significantly less dangerous than a man like Albus Dumbledore." His gaze darkened. "His intentions aren't as pure as he leads people to believe."
Lucy didn't think that Dumbledore was malicious, but she had to agree with Tom. The headmaster held his cards close to his chest, and every time Lucy spoke with him, it felt more like she was an exhibition on display than a living person. She didn't dislike him, but she certainly didn't trust him.
"If only more people were as openly evil as us, Tom," she sighed.
His glare lessened and he smirked at her. "You're not evil, Lucy. Not even close. If anything, you could work on being less sentimental; you are definitely a Hufflepuff."
She gave him a deeply offended look, which he only laughed at. "Don't get angry because it's true. Forgive me if I don't think a girl who stayed up all night making Christmas cards is the root of all evil... Just as well. You can leave the evil part to me."
"I thought there was no such thing as good and evil," Lucy said sarcastically. She didn't like the indication that she was soft. Especially if it was coming from Tom Riddle.
"There isn't," he replied. "But if there was, you would be the former."
He laughed again at her sullen expression.
"My personal ghost thinks I'm a softie? This sucks," she complained.
"I call it as I see it."
"Next time I go into your little pocket world, we're fighting, Riddle."
"Good luck with that."
She rolled her eyes and pushed the door to Myrtle's bathroom open. Ron, Harry and Hermione were waiting for her at the cauldron. They had brought it out of the stall and they huddled around it in front of the sinks.
Tom peered inside, and his lips thinned a little in displeasure. "It's passable, I suppose," he said, clearly disgusted. Lucy raised her eyebrows at him. "It's not great, but it will work. I'd give it an Acceptable."
Thanks, Professor Riddle, she thought. At least she wasn't the one who had to drink it– it looked rather unpleasant.
"Great, now we can add the hairs," Hermione said. Although this had all been her idea, she still stared anxiously at the three empty tumblers. She scooped a generous amount in each of the containers and by the time she was done, the bottom of the cauldron was scraped clean.
Hermione dropped Millicent's hair into the potion. It hissed like a whistling tea-kettle, and the potion turned a watery, unpleasant yellow.
"Urghg— Essence of Millicent Bulstrode," Ron said, scrunching up his nose. "Bet it tastes disgusting."
Hermione couldn't agree more. "Add yours, then," she said.
Harry and Ron each dropped a hair into their potions. Goyle's turned a gross, greenish brown color that reminded Lucy of snot, and Goyle's turned a murky brown.
Ron surveyed his with disgust. He glared at Lucy. "You lucky git. Remind me again why you can't be Crabbe?"
"Because if something goes wrong, Lucy can stun Malfoy from under the cloak," Hermione reminded. "I don't suppose any of us know stunning spells yet."
Reluctantly, Ron nodded. "Times like this, I wish I was a nerd like Lucy."
"I wouldn't call someone who knows a stunning spell a nerd, Ronald," Lucy said sweetly. "It might land you into trouble."
"No duelling until this is over with," Harry said firmly.
"Well if the Boy-Who-Lived says so..."
She laughed and side-stepped a whack he sent at her arm.
The three separated into different stalls to take the potion, and Lucy stepped back to wait by the sinks. She started messing with the faucets out of sheer boredom.
"Stop that," Tom said at once.
"Prefect," she mouthed at him, but she left the sinks alone.
Harry stepped out of the stall first. She knew the effects of the potion, but it was still jarring to see Goyle standing there in Harry's glasses.
"It worked! I really want to hex you right now," she told him.
Ron left his stall next and he stared at Harry dumbly. "This is unbelievable," he said, striding over to the cracked mirror. "Unbelievable," he repeated.
"We'd better get going," Harry said as he checked his watch. "Luce, you know where the Slytherin common room is, don't you?"
She did not, but she had a very handy friend who did. Lucy looked straight at Tom and said, "Yes."
"Great! C'mon Hermione, let's go."
Hermione answered in a small voice. "I– I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me."
"Hermione, we know Millicent Bulstrode's ugly, no one's going to know it's you–" Ron said.
"No- Really– You three hurry up, you're wasting time."
Lucy exchanged an incredulous look with her friends. "We don't have time to argue," she sighed. "Let's go— Hermione, you're sure you're alright?"
"Yes— just go." Her voice was trembling. Lucy was definitely concerned, but they couldn't let the Polyjuice go to waste.
Lucy pulled the cloak over her head, making sure her foot was sticking out for Ron and Harry to follow. Tom, who had been a fan of this scheme from the beginning, led the way to the Slytherin common room with great amusement.
They weaved in between the corridors. A Ravenclaw must have returned to the castle early, and as they passed her, she gave them a suspicious look. Not long after that, Percy emerged from an empty classroom with red ears.
"What are you doing down here?" Ron said, surprised.
"That is none of your business," Percy said tightly. "It's Crabbe, isn't it?" Numbly, Ron nodded. "Well, get off to your dormitories. It's not safe to go wandering around dark corridors these days."
"You are," Ron pointed out.
"I am a prefect," Percy said proudly. "Nothing's about to attack me."
Before Ron could interrogate him further, Malfoy's voice rang from down the corridor. "There you are," he drawled. "Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you, I want to show you something really funny."
"I'll go up ahead and see if any other Slytherins have returned," Lucy whispered in Harry's ear. He jumped, startled at the sudden noise. Malfoy arched an eyebrow at him.
"What are you afraid of? A Weasley?" Malfoy scoffed.
As Lucy rounded the corner, the last thing she heard was Percy chewing Malfoy out.
Tom led her to the entrance, and she looked around to make sure Snape or any other Slytherins hadn't decided to show up. She didn't know they were allowed to return early, but now that she knew, she might use that next year to buy some Christmas gifts...
They stopped in front of a plain stone wall. "Welcome to my common room," he said smugly.
"It's freezing down here," she complained.
"Snakes are cold blooded."
"But humans aren't. What's the password? Probably something stupid like Serpent or Pureblood—"
As soon as she said the last word, a hidden stone door slid open. She looked out of the cloak just to show Tom how stupid she thought their password was.
He sighed. "The passwords used to be clever."
"I don't believe you."
"Did you hear something?" Malfoy rounded the corner, and Lucy quickly covered herself with the cloak again. He stared at the open common room in surprise. "I didn't know anyone got back early... Just as well, I'd forgotten the password."
They stepped into the Slytherin common room, and regretfully, Lucy liked it best out of the three she'd seen so far. The ceiling was low and long. She could visualize past-Tom Riddle sitting in one of the high-backed chairs near the fireplace, surrounded by his many admirers. For the first time in her life, she sort of wished she'd been a Slytherin after all.
"Wait here," Malfoy gestured to two of the chairs in front of the fire. "I'll go and get it. My father's just sent it to me–"
After he left, Lucy moved the chair a few inches to the right, just to mess with him. Malfoy returned a minute later and thrust a newspaper clipping under Ron's nose.
"That'll give you a laugh," he snickered.
She leaned over to look at it:
INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of a Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.
Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation.
"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."
Tom snorted. Lucy scowled at him even if he couldn't see it. He hadn't liked Mr. Wealsey ever since his fight with Mr. Malfoy in Diagon Alley.
"Well?" Malfoy said impatiently. "Don't you think it's funny?"
Lucy could feel a Courtney moment coming on.
Harry forced a weak laugh. It wasn't very convincing, but Malfoy was satisfied.
"Arthur Weasley loves muggles so much, he should snap his wand in half and go join them," he scoffed. "You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave. What's up with you, Crabbe?"
Ron looked ready to throttle him. "Stomachache," he said through gritted teeth.
"Well, go on up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," he snickered. "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet... I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon."
Tom's eyes lit up at the thought.
"Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that ever happened to this place," Malfoy went on. "He loves Muggleborns. A decent headmaster would never have let slime like that Creevey in." He raised his voice in an accurate impression of Colin. "'Potter, can I have your picture, Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes please, Potter?"
Lucy's hand inched toward her wand. If anyone didn't deserve to get petrified, it was Colin Creevey...
Ron and Harry forced another laugh.
"Saint Potter, the Mudblood's friend," Malfoy continued scornfully. "He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood. And people think he's Slytherin's Heir! Not only him, but Lucy Rochester— Don't give me that look, Goyle, if you didn't want her to curse you, you should have hit her... I wish I knew who the Heir was. I could help him..."
"You must have some idea who's behind it all," Harry said quickly.
"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?" Malfoy snapped. "I wondered if it was Rochester after all– she's a parselmouth and she had a spat with most of the mudbloods– but Father said there's no possible way... and he won't tell me about the last time the Chamber was opened, either. Of course, it was fifty years ago so it was before his time, but he knows all about it. He says it was all kept quiet, so it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing– last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them is killed this time... I hope it's Granger."
That was... incredibly useful, actually. Lucy wondered how Hogwarts got away with keeping a student's murder under wraps– if even Mallory barely knew about it, there must have been extensive work keeping it quiet.
At Malfoy's jab toward Hermione, Ron looked ready to punch him in the face at any second. Harry asked, "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber the last time was caught?"
"Oh, yeah... Whoever it was was expelled. They're probably still in Azkaban."
"Azkaban?"
Malfoy was beginning to get suspicious. "The wizard prison, Goyle. Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward! Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raised our manor last week?"
Harry pretended to look concerned. Lucy smirked; he was the one to tip off Mr. Weasley in the first place.
"Yeah... Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing room floor—"
At that moment, Lucy realized the potion was wearing off. Ron's hair began turning red again. Malfoy hadn't realized it yet but it was only a matter of time. Quickly, she ducked behind Malfoy's chair and stuffed the cloak into her satchel. Then she jumped out, clamping her hands on Malfoy's shoulder.
"BOO!"
Malfoy shrieked.
He held his hands up to protect his face as Ron and Harry darted out of the common room. He peeked through his fingers and scowled furiously seeing Lucy standing in front of him, an innocent smile on her features.
"Are you insane?!" Malfoy demanded. "How the– when did you get in here?!"
"Ages ago," she said nonchalantly, and she sank into the chair across from him. "I was going to set Flint's bed on fire but I couldn't find the right room. Anyway, Merry Christmas and all that."
"You scared Crabbe and Goyle away," he said accusingly.
"Is that such a bad thing?"
He opened his mouth to defend his goons then promptly closed it. "I guess not. They were acting rather strange today."
"So is it true you thought I was the Heir of Slytherin?" She said, a smug grin on her face.
He rolled his eyes. "Only briefly. You associate with too many filthy Mudbloods to set a monster after them." Lucy nodded. He had a point. He raised his eyebrows at her lack of a reaction. "Really? You're not going to attack me for calling your precious friends Mudbloods?"
"Oh nooooo, you called them wet dirt, so insulting," Lucy said sarcastically. "If you really want to insult someone, you've got to make it relevant and hurtful. Like how you're a bleach-headed git who has to buy all his respect with money and his last name."
Angry splotches of red appeared on Malfoy's cheeks. "How dare you– and who are you to say that? You're probably a Mudblood, too!"
Tom narrowed his eyes at Malfoy, but Lucy only grinned. "No, see, you've fallen back on the 'Mudblood' insult. You should have called me an annoying orphan girl who's idiocy will get her nowhere in life. That's painful and accurate. You got me good last Christmas when you said I didn't have a home to go back to. I was pissed about that for hours."
Despite insulting him to the extreme, Malfoy smirked at her compliment. "And why are you teaching me how to insult you and your friends?"
"Boredom." She leaned closer, and her smile turned less pleasant. "Also, if you wish Hermione's death ever again, you'll wish I killed you. Got it?"
He stared at her, stunned. Lucy smiled brightly and skipped out of the common room.
Tom followed her, looking slightly exasperated. "Malfoys," he muttered. "They're all so annoying."
"Wasn't Abraxas Malfoy your closest friend– er, ally?" She rephrased the last part upon seeing his eye twitch. He didn't like to use the word 'friends' in regards to his older classmates.
"Yes, but he was still annoying. He just had marginally more to offer than my other classmates." He threw a disparaging look toward the Slytherin common room. "I see Purebloods and other Slytherins of worth no longer ally together."
"This whole year has just been crushing your dreams, hasn't it, Tom?" Lucy patted him on the arm consolingly.
"It's nothing that can't be fixed," he muttered. He glanced at her. "I'll admit that I am a bit confused whether you or Malfoy are friends or not."
"It's best if you don't think about it," she assured him. Malfoy wasn't terrible company but she wouldn't hold back from hexing him if he insulted or threatened her friends.
Lucy pushed the door to Myrtle's bathroom open. She had to rub her eyes to make sure she was seeing properly; Hermione stood in front of her, face full of black fur with two cat ears poking out of her head.
"It was a c-cat hair!" She cried. "M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!"
After seeing Lucy threaten Malfoy, Tom had the decency to try and hide his laughter. It didn't work and he laughed openly at Hermione's misfortune.
"I thought that might have happened," he chuckled. "Let that be a lesson to you, Lucy— never put hair into a potion unless you're certain where it's come from."
Lucy narrowed her eyes at him. Although Myrtle couldn't see him, she shared his mirth, pointing and laughing at Hermione.
"Oh, you'll be teased something dreadful!" She said happily.
"It's okay, Hermione." Harry scowled in Myrtle's direction. "We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions..."
"I've got the cloak, too," Lucy added, pulling the invisibility cloak out of her bag. "Come on, no one will see us... and if they do I'll stun them..."
Hermione gladly threw the cloak over her head, and the four hurried to the hospital wing.
Despite the unfortunate conclusion, Lucy thought their scheme had been a success. They did learn something— the culprit had been expelled and a muggleborn died. The latter concerned her more than anything. She had plenty of people she didn't like in the school, but she didn't really want any of them dead.
She sat on the bed of her dormitory, scratching Grayble behind his ear. Snape sat perched on the headboard of her bed snoozing lightly. Tom sat next to her reading out of the newest volume of DA Unearthed.
Everything was peaceful, until Tom's voice drew her out of her thoughts.
"What's that?"
He was pointing at a scarlet envelope at the foot of her bed.
Lucy furrowed her brow and reached for it. Grayble huffed at the sudden movement, but she ignored him in favor of grabbing the envelope. Had she gotten another card? She couldn't think of anyone who'd bother, aside from the obvious.
She opened it and unfolded the slip of parchment.
"What the..." she muttered.
Written in the center of the parchment with dark red ink was a single messy, smudged word.
Soon.
"Who sent that?" Tom said sharply. She glanced at him and saw that his face was clean of any humor.
"I don't know, there's no signature," she said. She flipped it over and checked but there was no indication of anyone in particular. "It's probably just a prank..."
"That kind of thinking will get you killed someday," he scoffed at her. "First two Bludgers went after you at your Quidditch match— and it wasn't that pesky house-elf, Potter found that out soon enough— and then a little while later, you receive a cryptic message? I don't believe in coincidences, and neither should you."
"Well if they're going to kill me, they'll have to try first." Lucy wasn't too worried. She was curious on who sent it to her, but at least right now, she couldn't do anything about it.
Tom glared at her. "You need to be careful from here on out. No more nighttime wandering— there may be a monster on the loose, but this is clearly more personal. Although why anyone would want to kill a twelve year old is beyond me."
"To be fair, I am a very annoying twelve year old."
He smirked despite himself. "That's true. But you're oddly likable— if I had carried myself in a quarter of the way you do, I would have been torn apart by my classmates."
"Stop being nice to me, it's weird."
"Now that I've found something that shuts you up, I don't think I will."
"Hah! Got you to be mean again," she laughed. "Honestly though, I'm not worried about this stupid note. I mean, what's the worst they can do?"
"Kill you," he said dryly.
"Anyone can do that. They're not special."
"Well, if you die, I'm stuck here, so try and be more careful. And be aware of your surroundings— I can't pay attention all the time."
Lucy nodded in acquiesce. She turned back to the note and vanished it with a complicated wand motion. It was easier than getting rid of a troll corpse, but it still took her a couple tries.
She turned her attention back to Grayble, and although Tom's gaze was set on the book, she knew he wasn't really reading it. He was deep in thought, obsessing over the strange note.
Tom didn't like mysteries nearly as much as she did.