Over the next few weeks, Lucy realized with great dismay that trying to find records of a covered up event was, shockingly, incredibly difficult.
She couldn't count the amount of times she broke into the previous caretaker's office. She scoured through the countless filing cabinets, but to her dismay, both Hagrid and Tom's file was missing. She tried looking for the girl who died, too, but there was no record of anyone dying in Hogwarts. In her opinion, it seemed a little wrong to cover up such a controversial event.
"You're still looking here?"
Tom sat in the dusty office chair watching her bemusedly. He'd gone back into the diary when she started her search, and looking at the clock, he could see it'd been four hours since she started.
"Yes, it's like they erased everyone involved off the face of the planet," Lucy huffed. She sat back, stretching her legs out in front of her. They were bloody stiff, that was for sure. "Is this girl the only one who's died at Hogwarts?"
"Not even remotely," he replied. He kicked his feet up on the desk like he owned the place and Lucy rolled her eyes. Someone was arrogant today. "The year after the Chamber was opened, a few older muggle-borns were poisoned. Someone slipped it into their drinks at breakfast, and their tongues rotted and fell off. One of them had a particularly bad reaction and died, although the Ministry vehemently denied it had anything to do with the poison."
Her jaw dropped. "Really? Who did it?"
"Technically the culprit was never caught, but us Slytherins knew it was Carrow's doing. He couldn't have been more smug about it."
"How does someone get away with that?" She felt disgusted thinking about it. Those poor students must have been in such agony; poisoning someone for their blood status was simply despicable.
"Nobody saw him do it. Dumbledore knew, of course— the next time Carrow was caught shoving a muggle-born in the corridors, he had Dippet expel him in an instant."
Good, she thought. She eyed Tom's nostalgic look and said, "Tom, your friends were sort of messed up."
He scowled immediately. "He wasn't my—"
"Yes, I know, you don't have friends." She waved a hand at him dismissively. He could say he didn't have friends all he wanted but she specifically remembered him telling her that he helped Abraxas out by going on a double-date with him. If that wasn't friendship, she didn't know what was. He was just a stubborn git.
Tom looked irritated at her gesture. He hated being interrupted. Tough. She ignored him and went back to looking through the files. If she soothed his ego every time he got annoyed, she'd be doing it all day long.
"If you haven't found it by now, you're never going to," he said scornfully as she began pulling records out of another filing cabinet. "Dippet wouldn't have left them anywhere a nosy student might find them. He obsessed over his reputation."
"What a nonce!" She let the files slip from her fingers and she lay over the opened drawer, groaning dramatically. "Why is life so hard for beautiful people?"
"I think you've been around Lockhart too much lately."
"The fame, the money, it's all too much," she continued sorrowfully.
Tom snorted. "I'd say you're famously annoying."
She jumped away from the cabinet like she'd been shot and threw a hand over her heart. "Oh no, I've been wounded!" She waved her wand and made it so that red dye stained her shirt, "Would you look at that, you've shot me..."
He stared at the ceiling, hoping that it might collapse on him.
"You know what, you should go back to searching," Tom suggested with false enthusiasm. He let his smile fall away and gave her a blank stare. "You were far less annoying that way."
She laughed and gave up the act. With an easy scourgify, the stain went away. "You said it yourself," she said as she began the process of putting the files back. "There's no point in looking, they're obviously not—" She paused for a good few seconds. Something had just occurred to her. A smile slowly crept onto her face. "Obviously. Not. Here."
She put the records away with more vigor than before. Tom eyed her warily. Whenever she was excited, something bad usually followed. "Are you going to share your idea, or shall I just leave now?"
"The files aren't here," she repeated. She struggled to close the filing cabinet; she had most definitely put them in the wrong order. Oh, well, that was Filch's problem if he ever ventured into the old caretaker's office, not hers. "Dippet didn't want them accessed by students, you said it yourself... and I distinctly remember there being a few filing cabinets in a certain Headmaster's office..."
"You don't mean...?" Tom slowly began to grin as well. He looked at her almost proudly. "That was smart of you, Lucy. And here I thought you didn't know how to use your brain."
"I am going to ignore that because I am a mature adult."
She gave the bottom drawer a huge kick. It didn't close, but it left a huge dent in the middle of it and also made an extremely loud clanging noise.
"Uh... oops."
"Mature adult," he repeated smugly.
"Shut up!"
She left the caretaker's office and made sure to close it and lock it behind her. She locked Tom inside on purpose, but he simply walked through the door with a smirk on his face.
"Good one, Lucy. That really stopped me," he snickered.
"And people call me a menace," she said incredulously.
Shaking her head, she headed down the corridor, mindful of any patrolling teachers of prefects. You'd think security would have been amped up given the attacks, but since it was mid-February and there hadn't been any attacks since the dueling club, most of Hogwarts had relaxed.
She wasn't as optimistic as Harry, who thought that the monster might have decided to hibernate for another fifty years. The Heir had gone as far as to write a message on the wall proclaiming their arrival— their intent to hurt their 'enemies'. She had a bad feeling that they weren't going to stop until someone died.
She had to find a way to get those records... How was she meant to explain what she discovered without them? She couldn't tell them about the diary, Tom would never let her. Her friends trusted her, but as investigators, they liked to have concrete evidence to rule out anything— with the records she could prove that Hagrid had been expelled, and then they could ask him about it together.
"What are the odds I can break into Dumbledore's office without him noticing?" Lucy finally said after a few minutes of silence.
"Slim to none. You'll have to figure it out," Tom said without an ounce of sympathy.
"You're telling me you haven't broken into the Headmaster's office? You're more nosy than I am."
"Why would I need to break into the Headmaster's office?" He said incredulously.
She hesitated. He had a point there. For all his impressive awards, he hadn't had nearly as exciting a time at Hogwarts as she had. "For bragging rights?" she suggested. "I don't know, Tom. I don't know you. I don't know how your mind works."
He rolled his eyes. "Yes you do, better than most people, I'd say. Now, do you actually have a plan on how to get these records?"
"I thought I had to figure it out."
"You do. I'm just asking."
"Well..." She furrowed her brow, thinking deeply. It was going to be very tricky... Dumbledore always knew what was going on, especially in regards to herself and Harry. "I think he must have a spell that alerts him when someone steps into his office... that's what I'd do if I was a Headmaster. I'd have to wait until he leaves the school for some reason but there's always the chance he'd come back and catch me. If it was Harry I doubt he'd care but since it's me he'd probably have a cow."
"That's true. He definitely favors the Potter boy," Tom said disdainfully.
She shrugged. That part didn't bother her at all. It was only to be expected; Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived, he deserved the extra attention. "I could use Polyjuice to turn into Harry but then I'd have to brew it, turn into Harry without him knowing, and also wait until Dumbledore leaves the school."
"Couldn't you use Potter's invisibility cloak?"
"Dumbledore could see us through it," she recalled.
Tom made an irritated noise. He ran his fingers through his hair, glaring at the ceiling. "Why does that old fool have to be so involved?"
She grinned, fondly shaking her head at her friend's frustration with the Headmaster. Dumbledore wasn't her favorite but, really, if anyone had a right to know what was going on in the school, it was him.
"I guess I'll just have to wait for an opening," she concluded.
All she had to do was break into the Greatest Wizard of the Modern Age's office.
Really, how hard could it be?
As the end of February approached, it became clear that Dumbledore wasn't planning on leaving Hogwarts anytime soon.
She thought about pulling a Quirrell and faking a letter from the ministry, but she was pretty sure Quirrell had to use some convincing magic in order to make it seem like an official ministry letter. She also figured that he learned from the last time and likely wouldn't be as moved by a random urgent letter, especially in the troubling state of Hogwarts.
She tracked his movements and tried to uncover a pattern. That's the thing about Albus Dumbledore. He was out of his mind. Lucy once saw him follow a bumblebee through the corridors once for no particular reason.
She found it hard to conjure up a plot to get those records when Lockhart was going off the rails lately. With the attacks seemingly stagnant, he told everyone who would listen, and wouldn't listen, that he had scared off the Heir with his presence alone. She half wished there'd be another attack just to shut him up.
Not only was he verbally a nuisance, but on Valentine's day, he pulled out all the stops. She'd just been about to enter the Great Hall for breakfast when Anthony burst through the doors and pushed her away, a terrified look in his eyes.
"Lucy, don't go in there!" He wailed, "Please, cub, it's too horrible—"
Cedric and Daisy walked calmly out of the Great Hall after him. Upon seeing him dragging Lucy backward, they shared an exhausted look.
"Anthony, cut that out," Cedric scolded. "The girl needs some breakfast."
"Yes, and it's really not that bad," Daisy said with a roll of her eyes.
Anthony screamed unintelligibly. It happened so often that the other three didn't so much as flinch.
Cedric still shook his head at Daisy. "No, Daisy, it's actually quite bad. But is it bad enough to skip breakfast over?"
"Yes!" Anthony insisted. "It's awful, my eyes are bleeding, I'm about to convulse and die!"
"Well, now I have to see."
Lucy quickly ducked out of Anthony's grip and burst into the Great Hall. She didn't know what she was expecting. Perhaps a portrait of Snape in a ballgown, maybe Filch hula dancing on stage, but no... It was just a little decorated.
Pastel pink flowers completely covered the large walls and instead of candles, petals floated through the air. The ceiling showed a clear, blue sky, but it was somewhat hard to see with the heart-shaped confetti falling from it. She caught a few pieces in her hand and smiled.
"Nooooo!" Anthony dashed in after her and eyed her reaction. She knew he was hoping for an equally as dramatic response, but honestly, she thought it was sort of cool. They hadn't done anything like this last year.
"S'not that bad," She said, shrugging. She caught a handful of confetti, turned to Anthony, then blew it in his face. "Happy Valentine's day, mum."
He regarded her disappointedly. "I am very displeased with you, Ms. Rochester." He turned away in a huff, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. "Off with you! I don't want to see you for the rest of the day!"
"Okay," she grinned.
He peeked one eye open. "I mean, until after lunch."
"Okay."
"Until after breakfast!"
"Okay!"
"You can stay in my line of sight but you cannot speak to me—"
"Geez, I'll just go join the Gryffindors!" She threw her hands in the air exasperatedly.
Anthony lunged at her and hugged her close to him. "I was only kidding, don't leave me!"
"Can't— breathe—" She tried to push him away, but to no avail. That boy was like a bloody leech.
Cedric came to her rescue and wrapped his hands around one of Anthony's arms. He pulled him away. "Come on, man, let the girl eat!"
"I've wounded her, do you see that broken look on her face?!"
Wounded, indeed. Lucy was openly laughing at her friend's dramatics. "I'll see you later, Anthony." She waved at his struggling form and then headed over to the Gryffindor table.
She sat between Harry and Hermione. While the confetti was nice to look at, she realized that there was a fatal error in its presence; it kept falling into all the food.
Harry sighed and wiped some confetti off his bacon. "I hate this," he stated.
"I kind of like it," Lucy said. "It's nice and obnoxious."
"Like you?" Ron snorted.
She tore off a piece of Harry's toast and tossed it at Ron's head. It landed in his hair. Scowling, he shook his head back and forth. He managed to get all the confetti out but she could plainly see the piece of toast stuck in his hair.
"Did I get it?" He asked.
Harry started to shake his head but Lucy grabbed his face with her hands, grinning at Ron. "Yes, it's gone."
"Don't hurt the merchandise," Harry complained. She squished his cheeks in response. "Hey!" He shoved her away and she laughed at the sullen look on his face.
Hermione tore her eyes away from Lockhart to look at Ron. "Oh, you've got something in your hair," she said in surprise.
"Liar!" Ron said accusingly to Lucy. He searched for it in his hair, but he somehow managed to go through all the areas except where the piece of toast was.
"I'll get it," Hermione sighed. She gave Lucy a disapproving look before reaching across the table to pluck it out of Ron's hair. Once she had it, she threw it right at Lucy. She ducked, and it landed in Harry's hair instead.
"Hermione, why?" Harry groaned.
Lucy decided to take pity on him. It wasn't as fair considering his hair was a mess on a daily basis; searching for a piece of bread in that jungle was going to be a challenge. She grinned and plucked it out of his hair.
"I've got to continue the train..." she muttered. Looking around the Great Hall, her eyes landed on the perfect target. She waved her wand and levitated the piece of bread over to the Slytherin table, where she carefully lodged it in the slicked back hair of one Draco Malfoy.
Blaise Zabini saw her do it. He laughed, giving her the thumbs up. She grinned and saluted him in return.
She was almost grateful when Lockhart stood up on the stage. He was annoying, but in front of a crowd of people he was a laugh. Especially with McGonagall and Snape on either side of him; they looked as though Lockhart had just spat in their breakfast.
"Happy Valentine's day!' Lockhart shouted.
"HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!" Lucy returned, sarcasm clear in her voice.
Harry covered his face with his hands while Hermione elbowed her in the side harshly. As always, Lockhart didn't pick up on her sarcasm. He pointed in her direction and winked at her.
"Thank you, Lucy! And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards!"
Lucy sent him one. She forged Snape's signature at the end.
"Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all— and it doesn't end here!"
Lockhart clapped his hands once. A dozen dwarves marched into the Great Hall and for a day dedicated to love, these dwarves looked like they might decapitate a student if they looked at them the wrong way. Despite their surly look, they were wearing golden wings and they carried harps in their arms.
"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" Lockhart beamed.
"Friendly?" Ron repeated incredulously.
"They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly dog!"
"It seems kind of immoral, doesn't it?" Harry said, frowning. "Making someone love you with magic."
"I think you're reading into it too much, mate. People have been doing it for centuries," Ron said, shaking his head.
Lucy agreed with Harry. If she found out she'd been snogging someone just because they slipped her a love potion, she'd be furious, not to mention creeped out.
"Ron, I am going to tell you right now, as a girl, that love potions are the least romantic thing I have ever heard of, and my friends and I once had a conversation about buggering Snape," she said in a serious tone.
"Why would you have a conversation about that?" Harry asked, horrified.
"Why do you have a scar on your forehead?" She countered.
He gaped at her. "Those are two completely different things!"
"When you look at it closely, Potter, you'll see that it's really not."
"I think we'd better get out of here," Ron cut in before Harry and Lucy could continue bickering. Once they started, they never stopped until they started playfully throwing things at each other. He shot a wary glance at the line of girls and boys surrounding the dwarves. "I don't want to stick around to hear what horrors they're about to sing at us."
While Lucy was sorely tempted to stay behind to witness just that, she also had to get to Transfiguration. The last time she was late, McGonagall threatened to transfigure her into a watch. Although, now that she thought about it, that might be kind of cool... What would it feel like to be a watch? Would she always know what time it was? Would she even have any senses?
Well, she knew what she was going to ask McGonagall about today. This time she was going to be the first one to class...
She dashed out of the Great Hall, ignoring the bemused looks her friends sent her way.
"She shows up, causes destruction, then leaves," Ron marveled at her retreating figure. The other students, still wary that she was the heir, quickly jumped out of her way. Soon enough, she had disappeared into the crowd of students leaving the Great Hall.
"That's Lucy for you," Harry said, unbothered. He looked nervously at the dwarves again. They already began their tirade of singing at unsuspecting students, and he had a terrible feeling someone might send one after him. It was one of the shames of being the Boy-Who-Lived... Loads of unwanted attention. "Yeah, let's leave," he agreed hastily. The thought of a dwarf accosting him in front of his peers made him want to sprint away.
"No need to tell me twice..."
Lucy was indeed the first one to arrive at Transfiguration. It was tied with Charms as being her favorite subject. Now, if only she was as good at Potions as she was with these two classes... Without Tom's help, she'd have exploded all of her potions by now. Heck, the only reason she passed with an O last year was because of Quirrell's help. Sometimes, she'd work on her homework during their lessons, and he'd snatch her Potions work away and proofread it. He'd tear into her and call her an idiot while telling her what she did wrong, but hey, she received good grades for it at the end of the day.
Thinking about Quirrell always made her sad, so she instead distracted herself by attempting to turn her desk into a tiger. Now, she didn't know the spell to do such a thing, nor did she possess the skills required, but that wouldn't stop her from trying... She waved her wand at the desk over and over again.
"Tigerio Transfigurio!" She tried.
Nothing.
"What are you doing?"
Nothing except Tom's disappointment, that is.
She turned to look at her friend, who had heard her attempt at a spell and came out of the diary to look. She stared at him innocently. "I am transfiguring, of course." She turned back to the desk. "Tigerio Transfigurio!"
"That's not going to work—"
He stopped short of speaking. Some way, somehow, the desk had hints of black and orange stripes on it. She crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow at him. "What was that? What was that about it not working? Because it seems to me like I am the greatest witch on this planet, and Voldemort should step right aside."
"I am going to hurt you," he said in a matter-of-factly way.
"Oh, yeah? So if I came into the diary right now, you'd fight me?"
Tom glared at her, but his lack of an answer told her that she was right in her assumption that he would never. He was grumpy at the best of times, but he still liked her too much to hex her without an extremely good reason.
Professor McGonagall entered the classroom shortly after. She looked weary, glancing toward the door as if she was looking for a monster to sneak up on her. "Dwarves," she muttered disapprovingly. "As if this school is a circus! Foolish man—" She stopped short upon seeing Lucy sitting nicely in her desk. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the young girl. "Ms. Rochester, what are you doing here?"
"I'm here to learn!" Lucy said, a bit indignant. McGonagall arched one of her eyebrows. "Okay, I wanted to know what it would feel like to be a watch," she admitted at last. "And I was also trying to turn my desk into a tiger. Look! It has stripes!"
She gestured proudly to the now hideous looking desk. McGonagall stared at it for a good few seconds before closing her eyes, inhaling deeply. "Ms. Rochester," she began slowly. "Why are you trying to turn your desk into a tiger? And, I will add, what do you suppose might have happened if you'd succeeded?"
...She hadn't thought that far ahead. She was betting on it not working.
"Well... cats are one of the allowed pets at Hogwarts?" She tried.
The professor stared blankly at her.
"I am once again very relieved Potter is not in this class with you," she said at last.
"Really, Professor? Harry's about half of my self control."
Tom shot her an offended look. She amended, "And lame prefects are my other half."
"Given your and Potter's tendency to overlook the rules, I think I've made a fair assumption." Professor McGonagall sat down at her desk and began to go through her notes. Lucy mentally cursed herself for not thinking to look through her desk when she had the chance— how fun would it be to steal from all four heads of houses? She was particularly interested in what treasures might lay in Professor Flitwick's desk. That man was far too cheerful to not have a dark secret underneath.
She then tried to remind herself that it was a good thing she hadn't tried. Because if McGonagall walked in on her breaking into her desk, being turned into a watch would be the least of her problems...
"Professor, I think that's a bit unfair," Lucy said at last. "After all, I didn't crash a flying car into the Whomping Willow. I am a reformed student," she sniffed. "I haven't gotten detention in..."
She held up her fingers and began counting the days. Regrettably, she only managed to put up six of them. She sighed and lay her hands back down on her desk. "The point is that I haven't gotten one today."
If Professor McGonagall had something disapproving to add, she didn't get a chance for it. An explosion from outside the classroom made her quickly jump to her feet and dash out of the classroom. Faintly, Lucy heard her yell, "Weasleys!"
A minute later, the rest of the class filed in, all in one crowd. Lucy realized that she was probably supposed to stay with a group— the monster was still technically roaming the school. But oddly, she didn't feel like she was in any danger. Perhaps she was just being arrogant, but something in the back of her mind told her that she was safe... Yeah, she was definitely being arrogant.
Malfoy had finally forgiven Lucy for her last death threat. For a while, he wouldn't sit next to her and so Theodore Nott had filled his place. Lately, Parkinson managed to annoy him so much that he gave in and reclaimed his spot next to his sort-of-not-really friend.
He went to sit beside her, but the stripes on their shared table caught his eye immediately. "What did you do to the desk?" He demanded.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Lucy said in a cleverly befuddled tone. She pretended to brush off his question, and she reached into her bag to pull out her books. "Hey Malfoy, you did that essay we got last week, right?"
She relished in the five seconds of sheer panic in Malfoy's eyes until he realized that she was blatantly lying to him. He glowered and pulled out his own book, slamming it onto the desk with more force than necessary. "You must think you're so funny."
"Why yes, I do, actually. I think you need to learn how to conjure up a sense of humor Malfoy; you'd be a lot happier that way," Lucy said wisely.
"Who invited Dumbledore to the table?" Blaise scowled. "Quit being such a Hufflepuff, Rochester, it's far too early for that."
"Shut up, Zabini. You threw toast in Malfoy's hair this morning, I highly doubt you have the moral high ground here."
Malfoy instinctively reached up to touch all around his head. He must have had a built-in detector for discrepancies in his hair, because he found the piece of toast in less than ten seconds. He looked from the piece of toast, to Blaise, then back to the toast incredulously.
"You put this in my hair?" He demanded. His voice was laced with disgust and sheer outrage.
"No, it was Rochester!" Blaise insisted.
"Yeah, because I'd be able to do such a thing without anyone across the Hall noticing," Lucy said, rolling her eyes.
"You weren't able to, because I noticed you! I saw you do it!"
"I don't care who did it, just keep your filthy hands away from my hair!" Malfoy burst out loudly.
He cut through the rest of the classroom's chattering. Everyone, including Davis, Parkinson, and Bulstrode's group in the corner stopped to stare at him.
Despite Lucy trying to frame him, she shared a knowing look with Blaise. It was approximately Bully Malfoy O'Clock— her second most favorite time of the day, first being Annoy Tom O'Clock.
"Be realistic, Draco," Blaise began.
"Our hands didn't go anywhere near you," Lucy continued.
"As a Pureblood wizard, I thought you'd know the difference between wandwork and throwing something."
"Yes, I am very disappointed in you. I think I'll write to Lucius. Can I call your father Lucius?"
"No!" Malfoy yelled.
"I think I'll call him Lucius," Lucy decided.
"Mr. Malfoy wouldn't be happy to hear his son mixing up his terms," Blaise said gravely. "He might pull him out of Hogwarts. Send him to Durmstrang, maybe."
"What-Strang?"
"Rochester, do mind not being a Mudblood for two seconds? You're diluting the classroom." Parkinson said scathingly from the back of the classroom.
"Get her," Tom's voice said at once.
Lucy whirled around to glare at her. She was getting quite sick of hearing Mudblood as an insult all the time. She still thought the word was a load of nonsense, but as Tom explained to her, she shouldn't let anyone get away with calling her such a thing. "It's polluting, you bloody idiot. Diluting means making it thinner! Honestly, you'd think having the Potions professor as your Head of House would make you remember basic terms."
Lucy didn't usually respond to Parkinson— she wasn't really worth her time— but she had to admit, it was satisfying to watch Parkinson's face contort into an ugly sneer. "At least I know what Durmstrang is," Parkinson said haughtily.
"I'll turn your tie into stone, I swear it. And believe me, it doesn't feel too pleasant around the windpipe. Isn't that right, Crabbe?" Lucy gave Crabbe a dark smile.
His eyes widened, and he quickly reached up to cover his throat with his hand. Blaise and Daphne gave her strange looks and her ex-friends looked equally as fearful. Malfoy, to his credit, didn't look phased in the slightest. Then again, he'd been on the end of many of her threats and her use of Parseltongue to the point where nothing surprised him anymore.
"You know, I really enjoy these classroom chats we have." Theodore's voice broke through the silence after Lucy's words, bringing most of the Slytherins, barring Parkinson and Crabbe, to chuckle. He hadn't bothered to look up from his Transfiguration textbook. "If you lot were any measure of observant, you'd notice that McGonagall's already put all the notes on the board. I'd suggest you copy them down before we have to leave."
Daphne smiled serenely at him. "Of course, Professor Nott."
"We won't let you down," Malfoy agreed seriously.
After that, the classroom finally settled down. Lucy even forced herself to copy down the notes on the chalkboard. Not that she'd be able to read them later, her handwriting really was rubbish. They were all in such a state of quiet that when Professor McGonagall returned ten minutes later, she had to stop in her tracks as she took in the peaceful group of students.
"To think my second years are more mature than my fifth years..." Professor McGonagall said stiffly. She shook her head. "Never mind. Thank you for remaining patient— now, turn to page one hundred and five in your textbooks..."
It was yet another boring lesson that Lucy had to force herself to sit still in. She almost preferred simply copying down the notes. McGonagall was a brilliant teacher, but a girl had to move around and if she did so, she'd certainly get a detention.
Malfoy kept sending her smug looks when he saw her struggling to keep still. She tapped her fingers lightly on the desk until Professor McGonagall told her to knock it off, she scribbled on the margins of her parchment until Professor McGonagall told her to pay attention, and she was just about to 'accidentally' spill her ink on Malfoy for being a git, when the door to the classroom suddenly swung open.
McGonagall's head snapped toward the door. She looked ready to strike down whoever dared interrupt her lesson unannounced, and that look only intensified when she saw the dwarf standing in the doorway.
"I will not let you interrupt my teaching—" McGonagall began furiously.
She might as well have said nothing for all the dwarf cared. To Lucy's horror, the dwarf was staring directly at her. She prayed that it was a coincidence and it was really aiming for Malfoy or Blaise, but her fears were confirmed when the dwarf spoke gruffly.
"You! Lucille Rochester!" The dwarf pulled out his harp. "You've got a musical message."
Tom appeared out of the diary to watch. He grinned wickedly at Lucy's aghast face. "Oh, brilliant," he said, laughing.
She glared in his direction before looking back at the dwarf. "Uh... Lucy's not here right now. Please leave a message after the beep. But actually don't."
She didn't think anyone could manage to strum a harp threateningly, but alas, she was proven wrong.
"Nonsense," The dwarf said gruffly. "I didn't hear any beep. Here is your singing Valentine."
Lucy pulled out her wand, ready to stun him, but Malfoy delightedly seized her arm to keep her still. She was just about to deck him in the face when the dwarf began to sing in an eerie, low timbre:
"Little Lucy sat on a wall
Little Lucy had a great fall
All the King's horses and all the King's men
Couldn't put Lucy together again."
All the Slytherins who had stared at her mockingly were now silent, watching the dwarf uneasily. Lucy felt a chill travel her spine.
Tom was no longer grinning. He stared at the dwarf intensely, and he demanded, "Who sent that?"
The same words fell out of Lucy's mouth before she could process them. Her tone matched Tom's too, and although she felt more weirded out than anything, her words were sharp and held a thinly veiled threat.
The dwarf's unbothered demeanor faltered for a moment. Then he straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest. "That's confidential," he asserted. "My paycheck's worth more than your peace of mind," he said snidely.
"Who sent that?" Lucy and Tom repeated in a louder voice. Malfoy released her arm, and she pointed her wand at the dwarf.
"Ms. Rochester, please," Professor McGonagall's voice didn't hold the strictness it usually would. She was too surprised at the usually bright and sunny girl's dark tone. Clearing her throat, she looked over to the dwarf. "I must demand that you reveal who sent that message. If there is a threat against a student in the school, the staff has a right to know," she said sternly.
The dwarf scoffed.
"Unless you want me to bring Headmaster Dumbledore into this," McGonagall added, a dangerous edge to her voice.
The dwarf's cocky demeanor finally vanished. He glanced toward the exit uneasily. "Ay, there's no need for that..." he chuckled nervously. McGonagall's glare only worsened. "We don't know ourselves; all we get is a note an' a name, it's up to us to find the person and give them the message..."
At that moment, the bell rang. The dwarf took the opportunity to dash out of the classroom, closely followed by most of the other students. The only ones who remained behind were Blaise and, surprisingly, Malfoy. She figured Malfoy was such a coward that he wouldn't dare stick around after a creepy message like that.
"You think it's a prank?" Blaise wondered, pausing at the door for Lucy to pass.
No, she didn't. She remembered the note she received on Christmas. Soon, it said. She could have written that one off as a prank... but two threatening messages? At this point, it sounded like there was something sinister planned for her, and for once she was at a loss of what to do about it. She couldn't think of anyone who'd go this far in order to unnerve her.
"Maybe," she said evasively. No matter what she thought, she couldn't let the Slytherins know she was bothered. "S'not like they'll be able to land a curse on me." She twirled her wand, shooting the boys a cocky grin.
"You deeply confuse and disturb me, Rochester," Blaise said, shaking his head.
The three of them headed downstairs. Tom was quietly fuming, keeping his eyes trained all around them. Lucy was on high alert as well, but she felt better knowing she had an extra set of eyes looking out for her. Merlin knows Malfoy would be bloody useless in the face of a threat.
A commotion at the entrance to the staircases caught their attention. Amidst a line of first years was Harry, Ron, and Hermione— but the former was currently trying his best to collect his things from his split in half bag. Lucy wondered why he was in such a hurry but it soon became clear to her when she saw the dwarf chasing after him.
Malfoy caught sight of this. He smiled like it was Christmas morning. "What's going on here?" he called, walking forward.
Lucy readied her wand to hex Malfoy if he was too much of a git. She stepped forward, but Tom crossed in front of her and shook his head. His eyes were murderous and if looks could burn, she'd imagine the entire school would have been set ablaze by now.
"Stay away from crowds," he said sternly. "You don't know who might be hidden in them."
Stunned, she only managed to nod. She'd never seen him so openly furious. She didn't think he was angry, but maybe... Stressed? That was a good word for it.
She watched as Harry tried to make a run toward her, but the dwarf grabbed him around his knees and sent him hurtling toward the ground. She knew she could stun the dwarf, but she wanted to hear the message and make sure her friend wasn't being threatened either. If he did get a threatening message... Well, she might have to join Tom in burning the school to the ground trying to find the perpetrator.
"Right," the dwarf said at last, sitting on Harry's ankles. "Here is your singing valentine, Potter."
Clearing his throat, the dwarf began:
"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,
His hair is as dark as a blackboard,
I wish he was mine, he's really divine,
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."
"Oh," Lucy said numbly. Harry looked like he wished nothing more for the Chamber's monster to swallow him whole at that moment. She, however, thought the poem had been sort of sweet. Way better than the creepy children's rhyme she received.
The crowd around Harry laughed until tears streamed down their face. Lucy had well enough of this. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "If you don't scatter right now, I'll petrify you on the spot! Assholes!" She added the last part in Parseltongue, but she hoped she got the point across.
Percy gave her a disapproving look, but Harry, for one, was grateful. The students around him quickly darted toward their respective classrooms. Malfoy left too, but only because he knew he was going to be late for his next class. As he headed down the stairs he jeered at Ginny.
"I don't think Potter liked your valentine very much!"
Ginny's face burned a deep red, and she looked very upset as she ran into her classroom. Lucy scowled and pointed her wand at Malfoy's head. It wasn't proper to hex someone when their back was turned, so this would be more of a painless punishment. Physically so, at least: she said a spell aloud and suddenly, Malfoy's hair was a bright, Weasley red. Blaise didn't even notice it, he was too busy laughing at Harry and Ginny's misfortune.
"Thanks for that," Harry muttered. They were probably going to be late to their next class but after that fiasco, none of them cared very much. "That was horrible," he complained at once.
"Yours was horrible? I got a freaking threat!" Lucy countered. "I thought your poem was sweet. Catchy, too. Ginny has a way with words."
Harry didn't bother with the last part of her sentence. He gave her a concerned look. "Someone sent you a threat?"
Lucy recounted the musical message the dwarf had given her. She also told them about the note she received on Christmas day. Hermione was the most distraught to hear this, and she asked Lucy, "Why didn't you tell us? That could have been the Heir!"
"I thought it was a prank," Lucy frowned. "And why would the Heir want to kill me? Wouldn't they want to kill Harry, since he's the Boy-Who-Lived?"
"Ouch," Harry told her.
"You know it's true."
Hermione continued before Lucy and Harry could get distracted. "But Lucy, don't you argue with a lot of the Slytherins?" She pressed. "Surely one of them might have decided to get back at you, in the worst way possible..."
"Granger's right," Tom said. It clearly pained him to say so. "I've been with you for a year and you've made an enemy out of most of the Slytherin house. This isn't including last year... Lucy, why must you cause so much trouble for yourself?"
"Well... McGonagall knows about the message I got, and she's liable to tell the other professors, too. They'll keep an eye out for me," Lucy said to both Tom and Hermione. The former didn't look the least bit comforted by that. "I'll just be extra careful, okay? We'll talk about it later tonight. I've got to get to my next class..."
"I'll walk you," Harry said quickly. He glanced at Ron and Hermione. "Tell Flitwick everything, he'll understand. And if he doesn't, tell him to ask McGonagall."
"All right, but should you be walking back alone?" Hermione said worriedly.
"I can hear the monster before it attacks, remember? And it's not me this person's after." Harry looked pointedly at Lucy who could only manage a sheepish smile. She really did make a lot of enemies, now that she thought about it... Such was the life of a troublemaker. She supposed it was a good thing she was cutting back on the mischief.
Hermione relented, and she and Ron headed toward their Charms class.
Before they could go anywhere, Harry looked sadly down at his split bag. "I can't believe a dwarf tackled me today," he sighed.
"It looked sort of painful. You want me to kill him for you?"
"Tempting, but no, I guess it's not that big of a deal after all. He was only doing his job," Harry relented unhappily.
Lucy shrugged; it was his call. She pointed her wand at Harry's bag and uttered, "Reparo." The bag clumsily sewed itself back together. It wasn't perfect because the Mending charm didn't work as well on fabric, but it got the job done. She waited patiently as Harry gathered his things back into the bag. Once he was finished, he slung it around his shoulder and offered Lucy his arm.
"Let's get to your next class without dying, yeah?" He said, grinning.
Her lips twitched. "Seems like a good idea."
Tom flanked her other side, and they headed down the staircases. She didn't mind waiting for the correct staircase. She had History of Magic next and Binns probably wouldn't notice if she was missing anyway. If he looked in her direction, he called her 'Ms. Rodney' so it was safe to say she could miss that class as much as she pleased. The only reason she bothered with it was because Tom told her having an O in History of Magic looked especially impressive on a resume, since most students failed or barely passed his class.
"D'you really think it's the Heir trying to scare you?" Harry wondered. They were stopped at a corner staircase, waiting for the lower one to connect. It was going awfully slow.
"I don't know. I don't think so. If it was the Heir, they'd have been able to petrify me by now. I've been out at night loads of times."
He looked at her worriedly. "Alone? Luce, even I know that's not a good idea."
She wanted to tell him that she wasn't really alone. Tom was with her and while he was a spectre, he had a keen eye for possible danger. She never felt like she was in any real danger when he was around.
"Yeah, I know I'd better stop," she sighed. If only she could. She still had to find a way to get the records from Dumbledore's office as soon as possible. They needed to ask Hagrid about the Chamber, and if she didn't have solid evidence by then, she knew she'd be forced to reveal the diary to her friends... Not that she had mentioned that to Tom yet.
"What do you do at night anyway?" He wondered. They stepped onto the next staircase and it moved ever so slowly to the next corner piece. Only halfway down... she was definitely going to be late.
Lucy was glad to have a question that she could honestly answer. "I've been looking for records of the last time the Chamber was open," she explained.
Harry's green eyes lit up. "That's a brilliant idea! Have you found anything yet?" he asked eagerly.
"No..." she sighed. "That leads me to my next problem. Since they covered up the last time the Chamber was opened, covered up an entire murder... Well, they wouldn't leave the records out where any students could find them. They'd have to lock them up somewhere safe. Do you follow me?"
"Uh..." he said slowly, instead of admitting he had no idea where she was going with this.
"Do you remember those filing cabinets in Dumbledore's office?"
Harry deflated. His excitement had evaporated on the spot. "Crud," he muttered. "Guess that idea won't work."
"What do you mean?" Lucy gave him a genuinely puzzled look.
"The records are in Dumbledore's office," he repeated, like it was obvious.
"Yeah... and?"
They stepped onto the next corner piece, and instead of stepping onto the connecting staircase, Harry stopped to stare at her, horrified.
"You don't mean... You've got to break into Dumbledore's office? That's insane, you'll get expelled!"
"Not if I don't get caught," she countered. She leaned against the railing, grinning at the shocked look on her friend's face. She thought as a Gryffindor, he'd be all for insane plans. Then again, this was Dumbledore they were talking about... This was the height of risky schemes. Especially for Lucy, who already wasn't the Headmaster's favorite student.
Harry's shock turned to a quizzical expression. He looked all around them, up and below the staircase. "Lucy—"
"Don't worry about it, Harry." She took his change in attitude as him being nervous about her plan. "I'll get the records, just leave it to me—"
"No, Lucy— do you feel that?"
She stood very still. A feeling of dread began to settle in the pit of her stomach... was the platform—
Was the platform shaking?
She thought on pure instinct; grabbing Harry's arm, she shoved him to the connecting staircase. She felt a jolt downward. Tom's face was aghast and he reached for her, but she was in gravity's hands now— the platform hurtled toward the ground below.
Twenty feet,
fifteen feet,
ten feet, and then—
What the? Harry's internal voice demanded as soon as Lucy shoved him onto the staircase. He knew he'd just interrupted her train of thought, but that was no reason to push him! He was just thinking about how violent his friend was, when he heard it.
A sickening creak, a surprised scream, and then nothing.
Panic welled in Harry's heart as he whirled around and was met with empty space where the platform holding his friend should have been. The most horrible noise split through the silent air— a huge crash at the lower floor and then an agonized scream.
"Lucy!" He yelled, running to the edge of the staircase.
He willed his vision to focus on the ground floor. He could see her on the ground, cracked and shattered marble surrounding her limp form. To his horror, he could see a pool of blood leaving her temple.
"LUCY!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs. He jumped to the next staircase. He'd never hated the moving staircases so much in his entire life— he kept glancing at his friend. Was she breathing?
He was eight feet off the ground when he felt safe enough to jump. His knees protested at the strain, but he quickly ran forward, sliding on his knees in front of her bleeding form. "Lucy? Lucy, wake up!" He shook her shoulder gently.
No response. Her face had a terrible gray tinge to it. His heart felt like it was about to explode out of his chest. Should he move her? No, what if he made things worse? What just happened?
Trolls, he could deal with. Flying cars, absolutely. But for once in his life, Harry was at a loss as to how to solve this problem. All his mind could process was that his best friend was laying in a pool of her own blood, unresponsive to his voice. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yelled out as loud as he could, "HELP! ANYONE, HELP!"
Thirty agonizing seconds ticked by, and then he heard it— footsteps quickly walking toward him from around the corner. He never thought he'd be so happy to see Professor Lockhart in his entire life.
"Harry—" Lockhart began amiably as he rounded the corner. His demeanor soon turned to shock and fear at the scene in front of him. "Oh, dear Merlin!" his face turned white, not unlike how Lucy's looked at the moment. "That's a— that's a lot of blood—" he stammered.
"Help her!" Harry snapped at him.
"Ah— er, certainly, I'll go and get help—"
Harry watched incredulously as Lockhart disappeared behind the corner.
"Good BLOODY Merlin!"
His head snapped toward Lucy. Her eyes were open, hooded with pain, and for a moment Harry thought her eyes might be bleeding as well; they appeared red in the current light.
"Lucy, you're awake—"
"Get me to the hospital wing!" Her voice was low and tight with pain. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she had to fight to keep them open.
Harry was taken aback by the sheer loathing in Lucy's eyes at that moment. He'd never seen that look on his friend's face in his entire life, especially not directed at him. He told himself that it wasn't toward him, she was simply in a lot of pain... and clearly fighting to stay awake, if her gritted teeth were anything to go by. Her eyes rolled up into the back of her head every few seconds from the strain of staying conscious.
"I am going to die if you don't get me to the hospital wing, NOW!" She hissed. A strangled cry escaped her throat.
"Can you move?"
Her eyes were suddenly wide open, and once again, he caught a glimpse of a deep red color. She looked at him incredulously. "No, I fell twenty five feet, you absolute idiot, Potter!"
He hesitantly reached to pull her upward, only for her to scream out in pain again. He quickly let her back down. His face burned hot, he had no idea what to do!
She took in a shuddering breath, only to let out another strangled noise. She coughed once and a few specks of blood escaped her mouth. "We're doomed," she rasped, and she promptly passed out again.
Those were the last words Harry wanted to hear at that moment. He almost passed out himself from relief when two sets of footsteps appeared. Apparently Lockhart was good for something after all, he thought, as Professor Snape rounded the corner after him. For the first time in his life, Harry was glad to see the hated professor.
Snape did not hesitate as Lockhart did. As soon as he saw the scene before him, he waved his wand and a stretcher appeared in the air. He shot a furious look at Harry as Lucy was levitated onto the stretcher.
"What happened here? Why aren't you in class?" he spat. The stretcher moved on its own accord toward the hospital wing, and they followed it quickly.
Harry hurriedly explained the events leading up to Lucy's fall. He told Snape about the dwarf's message and that he'd been walking Lucy to her next class when the platform suddenly crashed toward the ground.
After Harry finished recounting, Snape turned to look at Professor Lockhart who at this point was following them like dead weight. He sneered at the other man. "If you are so eager to help, Gilderoy, then go inform Professor Dumbledore. Tell him I have the suspect in hand."
"Suspect?!" Harry demanded. "I didn't do this! Lucy's my friend!"
"You are the only one at the scene of the crime." Snape smiled nastily at him, and Harry felt a great fury grow within him. Was Snape really using this as an excuse to expel him? Lucy was on the stretcher, half-dead. Snape knew very well that Harry and Lucy were best friends. He couldn't believe the Professor was going this far.
He grit his teeth and bit back a furious reply. Instead, he turned his attention back to Lucy.
He didn't expect her to be so furious, but then again, Harry had never seen her in this much pain before. He was surprised that she regained consciousness in the first place. It looked like it took a lot of effort, so he couldn't blame her dark tone. He just hoped he'd never have to hear it again. Even if she wasn't really mad at him, he didn't know she could sound so angry. Even when she threatened Malfoy, it was usually in a pleasant tone...
Once they arrived at the hospital wing, Snape ordered him to stay in the chair outside of the room. He wanted to go inside, but a warning look from Madam Pomfrey told him there was no way he'd be allowed.
He sighed, gripping his knees tightly. He tried to make sense of what'd just happened. The message... she'd gotten a warning about having a 'great fall', and then the staircase collapsed? He knew this wasn't a coincidence. It made him think back to the Quidditch match, when two Bludgers went after Lucy... Their movements had been so stiff, so precise. Dobby swore up and down that it wasn't him... Harry's eyes widened as he realized that the same person who fixed the Bludgers must have sent her the note at Christmas, and now had collapsed the staircase.
Someone was trying to get rid of Lucy Rochester.
Harry stared at the wand in his hand determinedly. There was no way he was going to let that happen. Whether it was the Heir of Slytherin or someone else entirely, he was going to find who'd done this. Lucy's scream as she fell rang in his ears still.
He was grateful to see Professor Dumbledore, but he still wrung his hands nervously. He wouldn't really be expelled for this... would he? No, Dumbledore knew Snape disliked Harry. He knew they were best friends. Still, Harry had a bad habit at being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said kindly. He stood in front of Harry, his hands folded calmly in front of him. "You must be worried for Ms. Lucy, I take it?"
How'd you guess? Harry nodded quickly. "Professor, whatever Snape said, I didn't—"
"Professor Snape, Harry. And yes, Severus has explained in his own words what he thought happened. However, I'd like to hear it from you." Dumbledore's eyes glimmered slightly. "I am well aware there are many sides to a story. When Lucy wakes, I shall get her account as well."
"Well... I was walking Lucy to class because of a message she got from a dwarf," Harry began. "It was a muggle rhyme turned into a threat. 'Little Lucy sat on a wall, Little Lucy had a great fall, all the King's horses and all the King's men couldn't put Lucy together again'. We'd just started going down the staircases when it started shaking... and then it just... fell..."
"I am glad you are safe, Mr. Potter, but why didn't you fall with her?" Professor Dumbledore inquired.
He felt immense guilt that he hadn't thought to leave the platform the moment he realized something was amiss. Lucy was smart, unlike him. She thought on her feet and decided to save him from the same fate. He could have fallen right along with her, and on that note, they both might have died.
"She pushed me to the other staircase before it fell," Harry sighed. "Professor... How can someone make the staircase fall? I thought they were ancient?"
"I don't know myself, Mr. Potter, but I am very interested as well," Dumbledore said grimly. He looked over at Lockhart, who was attempting to look important as he stood outside the Hospital Wing door. "Gilderoy, I don't suppose those dwarves are still here?"
"I paid them in advance, Headmaster. It was only fair for their hard work," Lockhart said importantly. "But I ensured that the Valentines would remain anonymous... I wouldn't want to taint the love in the air!"
Love in the air? The only thing in the air was Lucy's body hurtling toward the hard, marble floor. Harry stared at Lockhart long and hard. He wondered if he had a parasite on the back of his head like Quirrell did; it might explain how he could be so completely and utterly bad.
Harry ignored Lockhart completely and addressed the Headmaster. "Is she going to be alright?"
"Yes, I think she will make a full recovery. But I must stress utmost caution from here on out; stay in a group. In times like these, all we can do is rely on each other." Dumbledore's face turned serious. "I will, of course, be examining the staircases and preventing anything like this from happening ever again. If you notice anything strange, Harry, my office is always open."
Harry nodded, even though he wasn't very comforted. The staircases were safe now. That was good, but what about any other future attacks? Hogwarts was huge and on top of that, Lucy was in a different house. Alone in a dormitory since the other Hufflepuffs had turned on her.
"You may have the day off from classes, Harry. I understand if you'll be too restless to focus right now," Dumbledore said amiably.
"I'd rather go to class, Professor," Harry said quickly. If he couldn't stay at the Hospital Wing, then he had to find Ron and Hermione as soon as possible and tell them everything.
Dumbledore gave him a surprised look but nodded. "All right. Gilderoy, you wouldn't mind escorting Harry to his class, would you?"
Lockhart looked as though he had just won the lottery. "Of course, Headmaster. Harry will be safe in my hands!"
Utterly done, Harry started walking ahead without acknowledging Lockhart. Although the man rambled on beside him, Harry's mind was far, far away. Out of all her injuries, he hoped that Lucy's eyes weren't damaged at all... the redness had been very unsettling. He trusted that Madam Pomfrey would be able to fix it.
He felt a chill run up his spine as he passed the shattered platform of marble. The blood still hadn't been cleaned up, and if it was still there by the time class ended, the school would enter a state of frenzy. He couldn't worry about that at the moment... First, he had to find Ron and Hermione. They'd have to do something about this problem of theirs.