Lucy wished she could say everything returned to normal after her stint in the hospital wing, but sadly, it did not. She knew she couldn't go about every day life as she always did with someone openly trying to murder her, but that didn't mean she was happy about it.
She rarely left the common room, let alone her dormitory. Each time she thought about leaving, Tom would ask her, "But is it really that important?" And if that wasn't the most annoying phrase Lucy had ever heard, she didn't know what was. If she tried to claim it was that important, he'd go all Tom Lawyer on her and dismantle her reasons for leaving. It always ended with him ruling that she shouldn't leave and at this point, she stopped suggesting it.
It sucked having Slytherins as friends sometimes.
They'd reached halfway through the month of March, and there still hadn't been any new attacks from the Heir. She sort of wished one would happen— maybe to Lockhart, a little petrifying would do him some good, and it would help get the attention off of her.
Given Anthony's display in the courtyard, everyone knew what happened. Most of the Ravenclaws deduced that it was a vigilante trying to put a stop to Lucy, the Heir of Slytherin. She rather enjoyed that theory, but the sad truth was that some maniac was just terrorizing a twelve-year-old girl for no reason.
Her first day back to classes, Ernie had tentatively asked Lucy if she was alright while Hannah watched fearfully in the background. She was tempted to be a git about it, but she only nodded with a strained smile. Since then, they had a tense peace between them. They didn't speak to her, but they didn't ignore her either or run in the opposite direction. The arrangement suited Lucy just fine.
Lucy had yet to find a way into Dumbledore's office. She didn't dare eavesdrop outside the teachers' lounge— Dumbledore would somehow be able to sense her. She would never underestimate the headmaster. If he caught onto the fact that she was up to something, he'd never leave her alone about it.
"You don't have to tell them about Hagrid," Tom said, scoffing as she poured over her various half-made plans again. She had them written out and sprawled across her desk; it looked like a hurricane had run through her empty dorm. "There haven't been any attacks— clearly, it doesn't matter."
"I want to tell them. They've been investigating since the beginning, and Hagrid's their friend; they deserve to know," Lucy replied. She vanished one of her more idiotic plans and sighed, leaning back in her seat. "I also want to see if there's any record of Parseltongues in the past, maybe forty years? Fifty if I'm pushing it."
"They're called Parselmouths, and why?" His tone was laced with disapproval.
She ignored his tone and continued. This was something he wouldn't be able to talk her out of, no matter what. "Parseltongue is a hereditary ability, right? I was thinking that if I found any records and the person looked like me, I might be related to them."
It was a long shot, and she doubted anything would come from it. Her parents were probably muggles, and they were either dead or had abandoned her. The only reason she was taking a poke around was the curious case of her Parseltongue. She loved having the ability— scaring bystanders and talking to Harry in a secret language was so much fun— but it'd come completely out of nowhere.
"You've never had the ability before this year. That tells me it's not hereditary," Tom countered. "I don't suppose Potter's parents could speak Parseltongue either, given that his father was a Gryffindor and his mother was a mud— muggleborn."
"But Harry's been able to for awhile now." Lucy frowned. "Then how could it be hereditary?"
"Potter is the Boy-Who-Lived. Nothing about his pathetic existence makes sense," Tom said disdainfully. She gave him a warning look. Closest friend or not, no one was allowed to insult Harry. Unimpressed by her glare, he continued. "And you have enough to worry about aside from chasing down a nonexistent record. Remember what I said about sneaking out at night.."
He was right that she had more important things to worry about, but Lucy wasn't going to put her life on hold on account of someone else. She had to get those records from Dumbledore's office. One way or another, she had to give her friends proof that Hagrid had been involved in the last Chamber's opening.
She gave him an annoyed look as he mentioned that last part. How he threatened to leave into the diary for the next two months if she went back on her word. He thought he was so slick... Well, if Tom wanted to pull ultimatums, two could play at that game.
"The only reason I'm getting those records is to protect your secret," she pointed out. "And if I can't get those records and there's another attack, I'm going to have to tell them how I know about Hagrid." Tom narrowed his eyes, daring her to keep speaking. She continued, unbothered. "About the diary."
With those three words, she managed to strike a cord in Tom. She felt kind of smug about it.
"Absolutely not," he snapped, standing up off her bed. He crossed over the room and towered over her desk. If she didn't know him so well, she'd have definitely been intimidated. As it was, she met his gaze stubbornly. "You are not permitted to tell anyone about the diary! I won't let you."
Smugness aside, Lucy didn't want to upset Tom. But she also felt increasingly guilty about lying to her friends about the diary over the past year. There were loads of times she'd have to 'have detention' to avoid hanging out with them, just because she had a prior engagement with Tom. And she was quite certain that Harry wouldn't find the diary weird at all— if anything, he, Ron, and Hermione would only be upset that she kept it from them for so long.
It'd be easier to go against Tom's wishes and tell them if he wasn't always there. Day and night, Tom was at her side, whether he was speaking or not. The diary wasn't important to her anymore. She hardly saw it as anything special. Tom Riddle, however, was as real to Lucy as Harry and any of her other friends. She wanted to help him like she would with everyone else. However, it wasn't fair for her to leave out a pivotal piece of information such as Hagrid's expulsion.
Hermione was a muggleborn. She had told Lucy how she was worried about herself and everyone else of her blood status. She might very well end up angering Tom, but there were more important things than his feelings, despite how Lucy herself valued him.
"Who said anything about you letting me?" She countered. "I'll have to pretend I just found it, of course, maybe someone threw it out a window and I picked it up, but these Gryffindors are going to need more than my word alone. I love them to death, but they haven't got the best history of believing me."
"I couldn't care less about their lack of faith in you, what matters is that you're going to risk my existence over an investigation that doesn't even concern you!"
"And the last one concerned you? Fifty years ago?"
"They were going to shut down the school, of course it concerned me. There has been no sign of any talk of closing Hogwarts, so no, I don't see any logical reason why you should tell those idiotic schoolchildren anything." Tom's harsh gaze then turned slightly hurt. "Don't you trust me, Lucy?"
Oh no. It would have been kinder if he'd thrown her out the window. She had received a lot of pitiful looks in her life, but none bothered her more than Tom Riddle looking forlorn. She tried to keep herself together, there was a very good chance he was trying to sway her like the Slytherin he was.
"Of course I trust you, Tom. With my life," she answered evenly. His expression softened, very slightly. It was like an angry bear decided to maim her rather than kill her. "But trust hasn't got anything to do with this. What if the monster's never caught? If the attacks continue until next year? Then they will shut down the school and I'd rather marry Snape than go back to Wool's. You understand."
Tom did understand, she could see it plainly. Still, he sat on the edge of her desk and leaned down so that he was closer. She always found it hard to concentrate when he was near to her. "That won't happen," he said assuredly. "And if it does, you're not returning to Wool's. You've got me. I wouldn't leave you without an education."
He was such a git— he was trying to change the direction of their conversation. Exasperated, she dropped her quill and leaned back in her seat. From this position, he was very much looming over her. If he was solid she might have compared it to being boxed in.
"I'd rather not have it close in the first place. Tom, we won't have to worry about telling the Gryffindors about you if we find a way to get the records. Really, the only thing standing in our way is Dumbledore."
Tom grit his teeth, clenching the edge of the desk very hard. He might have broken it off, if he was solid. "Why can't you just leave it alone? You're twelve, saving the school isn't your responsibility! Why can't you be like every other brat in this school? Go about your day without any threats or heroics? Without any pranks? It is so easy to stay out of it! Why must you be so infuriating?"
"Because, Tom, what's easy isn't always what's right," she said calmly. "If my friends choose to be the hero, I'll be right beside them. I'll do the same for you. Anyone who tries to steal or damage this diary is going to burn. You asked me if I trust you— but don't you trust me?"
The angry expression slid off his face. She nearly laughed at the look of shock on her friend's face. It didn't stay for long; in the next moment, he was back to his emotionless exterior. He leaned against the desk further so that he was out of her space once more. Tilting his head, he looked down at her.
"I'm rubbing off on you too much," he said, in way of an answer.
She narrowed her eyes. "That wasn't my question. Do you trust me, Tom Riddle?"
"I trust that you like me, that you don't intend on endangering the diary, but it would be facetious of me to say that I trust the judgment of a child." She opened her mouth to tell him to quit dodging the question, but he pressed on, removing any possibility of an argument. "You're smart for your age, but at the end of the day, you've only been alive for twelve years and been in the wizarding world for much shorter. I, on the other hand, have had the advantage of both five years of studying and my older self pouring all of his knowledge into me. I'm not exaggerating when I say I am the greatest wizard Hogwarts has ever seen, Lucy. And I am on your side. I've never doubted you for a moment, and I haven't turned my back on you, like your other friends have. You can trust me wholeheartedly with anything— can you really say that about your other friends? You ought to listen to me more than you do— I am only looking out for your best interests. You know that, don't you?"
Now that he put it like that, Lucy felt sort of bad for getting him worked up in the first place.
Everything he said was true; he always put her first. When she was about to fly a car to Hogwarts, he talked her out of it. When she was sick in the hospital wing on Halloween, he stayed up to play chess with her. He'd taught her loads of magic, dark and light, and when her friends assumed the worst of her, he'd been right at her side.
Her expression softened as she stared back at him. "I know, Tom."
"We'll find another way to get those records. You won't tell them about our diary, will you?" His voice took on a sadder note to it.
"No, I won't," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to upset you."
He smiled and placed his hand over hers. The temperature was still cold, but she swore it was less freezing than before. "I know you didn't. We look out for each other, Lucy Rochester. Never forget that." Taking his hand back, he glanced down at the mess of papers on her desk. "Now— I believe you have a potions essay due tomorrow?"
Picking up her quill, the two orphans began to work.
Today, Lucy was suffering through Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors. Ordinarily she'd be pleased to watch Lockhart force Harry to reenact his books, but today it was grating on her nerves.
She'd been up all night with Anthony, Cedric, and Daisy; they were helping Anthony study for OWLs, but halfway through he and Cedric ended up dueling while Daisy tried desperately to get them back on track. If that wasn't enough, Maxine burst through the door and wrestled both Cedric and Anthony.
She won.
Lucy was very impressed.
"Hand up a little higher, Harry— ah, right there! Step a tad to the left— perfect! Ahem, and continuing... The Thunderbird's wing had turned into a hand, of all things, and then with a clever spell, I undid the crook's animagus form!"
Harry had never looked so dead inside in his life, and Lucy had seen him face down Voldemort. She grit her teeth. It was taking all of her willpower not to lash out in the middle of class. She wanted one nice, quiet day. Lockhart wasn't helping whatsoever. Apparently he received approval for his writing club and he'd spent the past week trying to get Lucy to join it.
"Professor, as, uh, enlightening as this demonstration is, would you mind if I borrowed Harry? I'm not feeling well." She cheerfully ignored the disapproving look Hermione sent her way.
Lockhart nodded with a pleasant smile. It looked especially suspicious to her. "Certainly— perhaps you'll be well enough for our next club meeting tomorrow?"
Damn it.
"I don't know. There's someone trying to murder me at the moment, I'd better stay in my own common room." She glanced over at Ron and Hermione, and a brilliant thought occurred to her. "Actually, Professor, can Ron and Hermione come too? You remember what happened last time Harry and I walked alone."
As in, she almost fell to her death and Lockhart was utterly useless.
Now, even an idiot like Lockhart was a little wary about sending four of his students out at once. His smile faded slightly. He didn't want to be the mean teacher and say no, yet he likely didn't want the verbal bashing from the other teachers if they found out. Lucy simply smiled and added, "Maybe with them, I'll feel safe enough to attend your club."
From the back of the class Hannah muttered, "Forgot how good she is at this." The other Hufflepuffs made noises of agreement.
Tom made an annoyed sound, but Lucy smiled to herself. Even if she wasn't friends with the others anymore she was glad they didn't hate her.
"Alright, Lucy. If those Wealsey twins had asked me, I'd suspect mischief! But I know you reserve that for Potion Masters only." Lockhart winked at her. If she had a galleon for how many times the man winked in a day, she'd never have to work a day in her life.
She smiled at the professor and began collecting her things. Hermione was somewhat reluctant– she being the only one who found merit in Lockhart's lessons– but Ron and Harry were almost a blur as they hastened to stuff everything into their bags.
Hermione frowned as they walked through the corridors. "Now you have to attend one of his meetings," she said firmly. "I've been to all of them— they're quite fun, you know."
"I don't doubt that they're fun, Hermione. But do I really want to spend one of my precious evenings at Hogwarts with him? I might as well ask Snape for detention."
"He's been trying to get me to go, too," Harry said disdainfully. "Oliver's nightly Quidditch practices make a good excuse not to."
Ron grinned. "That's good for us— if we lose to Slytherin, especially this year, we might as well drop out. You haven't been practicing much, Luce. 'S your team giving up already?"
"Oh, they're practicing. John Wenlock is filling in," Lucy said casually. Hermione nodded along, while Ron and Harry turned to her, horrified. She grimaced a little. "Considering how easy it'd be to off me while I'm a hundred feet in the air, Anthony and Cedric are having me take notes instead."
It was mostly Anthony's idea, but Cedric easily agreed. The good thing about her Hufflepuff team was that they placed their player's safety above their chances of winning— even Maxine, the Quidditch die-hard, agreed that having her stay in the stands was a good idea.
Lucy had been a little disappointed, but she'd rather have her friends feel at ease than risk her life over a game. Tom had praised her on her maturity, so now she didn't mind at all.
Harry stared at her with a serious look on his face. "Lucy, we're going to catch this person. Nobody should be deprived of Quidditch."
"They're being smart," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "Unlike that Captain of yours. Honestly, it's like Wood has nothing else in life."
Lucy looked at her in shock. "That was a sick burn, Hermione." Hermione shrugged. "I'm telling Wood."
"What— no!"
"He needs to know that you've eviscerated him, Hermione. It's only fair."
"Since when do you use the word eviscerated?" Hermione said scornfully.
Since I started carrying around a dramatic Slytherin around in my pocket, Lucy thought. She settled for smiling innocently. "I thought the writing club would have had a better influence on you. I'm very disappointed in you, Hermione."
"Sometimes I don't know why I talk to you."
"Sometimes I don't even believe I'm really a witch, so I guess we all have our priorities."
"Okay, where are we going?!" Ron burst out. He and Harry knew very well that once she and Hermione started arguing, there was hardly anyone able to stop them. There were many occasions where Tom would leave the diary and snap at Lucy to knock it off because it annoyed him.
Her friend was so kind.
Lucy stopped mid-step after Ron's interruption. He had a valid point. She hadn't actually thought about where they would go after leaving Lockhart's class, but it certainly wasn't the hospital wing. She'd seen enough of that for a lifetime. Funny, since at Wool's she was rarely in the infirmary— but that was also because they didn't let her.
"Hey, what floor are we on?" She wondered.
"Third," Harry said. He hadn't been paying attention during their walk. He'd been trying to flatten his hair, which had decided to behave particularly wild today. He didn't notice its state until Lucy called him a feather duster. He didn't appreciate that very much.
A wide grin pulled at Lucy's lips. "Third, you say?"
"Yes, why—?"
They rounded the corner, and a very familiar door stood before them. She beamed at it, her hands clasped behind her back. "Well?" She probed. "Shall we?"
"Surely it's locked," Hermione said incredulously.
Lucy's hand fastened around the door handle. With a single pull, the door swung open. She cast a quick Lumos, and through the bright light of her wand they could see the remnants of their previous adventure. Fluffy was long gone, the shedded fur on the ground being the only indication of his existence.
"No. Way." Ron uttered.
"Alright, just because it's unlocked does not mean we should go inside!" Hermione looked at the other three like they were insane. Which, admittedly, they kind of were. There was no proper reason to return to the trapdoor other than their own curiosity. Unfortunately for Hermione, that was all they needed.
"Can't hurt to have a poke around," Harry said, shrugging. He dropped his bag inside the room, and the others followed suit. It was only when he opened the trap door that Hermione heaved a great sigh and dropped her things as well.
Tom emerged from the diary as soon as Harry spoke. From his experience, nothing good ever came out of Harry Potter deciding to have a 'poke around'. Lucy smiled at the sight of him before returning her attention to the trap door. These days, it was rare that he left the diary when her Gryffindor friends were around, so it was refreshing to see him with them.
"How'd you lot get down?" Lucy questioned.
"We jumped," Harry said casually.
She paused. "You what?"
"We jumped," he repeated, giving her a quizzical look. "Didn't you?"
"Uh... no? It was a dark, mysterious hole of unknown depth? That we could almost certainly fall to death in?"
Harry was quiet for a few moments.
"Please tell me you didn't just jump in," Lucy half-pleaded. She didn't have much of a moral high ground but she'd like to think she wouldn't jump into mysterious holes.
"We were trying to stop Voldemort! We didn't have time to think," Harry defended.
"You were trying to stop Snape, Boy-Who-Lived! And I was with Voldemort and he still had the sense to levitate us down. Hermione, you approved of this?"
Hermione shrugged. "It was a good plan at the time. We managed to escape the Devil's Snare. Do you think it's still down there?" She peered into the trap door to look, but it was just as inky black as it had been a year ago.
"What happened to not going down there just because it's opened?" Ron said with raised eyebrows.
"Now I'm too curious. And if we're already breaking rules, we might as well," she said.
Lucy, Harry, and Ron all shared a look of deep concern.
Leaning forward, Harry whispered, "Do you think it's really her?"
"Definitely not," Lucy shook her head.
"Maybe Malfoy's gotten us back with Polyjuice," Ron suggested.
"No, he's not smart enough for that."
"Actually, he's the top of potions class," Lucy added. Harry looked disturbed at the notion. "But no, he wouldn't risk his hair for something like that. Maybe it's Snape?"
"You'd think a slimy git like Snape would at least try for a good impersonation," Ron grinned. "Hermione Granger? Breaking the rules? Yeah, right."
"Oh, will you stop!" Hermione glared and whacked each of them on the arm. "If you think I'm so safe, I'll show you!" And in one fluid motion, she swung her legs over the edge of the trap door and jumped in.
The other three gasped and ran to the edge of it, looking over it worriedly. Without hesitation, Ron and Harry dove in after her. Lucy was the only sane one who stayed staring at the void in front of her.
Tom rubbed his temple. He looked very tired. "I hate children," he decided. He eyed Lucy warily; she appeared very tempted to jump in after them. "I know how much you want to follow. I would like to congratulate you for having a hint of impulse control. It's about time you've shown some."
"I want to jump so bad it hurts," she complained.
"No," he said sharply. She stared at him with wide eyes. He shot her a flat look before adding, "Use Arresto Momentum. I strongly suspect that's the spell Quirrell used."
"Will it work?"
"If you cast it correctly."
"Wow, thanks Tom, I couldn't have figured that one out for myself," she scowled. Tom glared at her as she continued muttering to herself. "Cast it correctly, yeah, like that's not the basic goal for every single spell."
"On second thought, go ahead and jump."
"You know what? I will!"
She glared at him one last time before jumping into the strange pit of doom. She barely caught Tom rolling his eyes.
The fall wasn't as frightening as she'd thought it'd be. Her only concern was the Devil's Trap she remembered lurking at the bottom. She landed on her side, wrinkling her nose up at the smell. It was Devil's Trap alright. She forgot how bad they smelled when they died, and this one had been decaying all year.
"Neville would be horrified," Hermione remarked with amusement as she nudged one of its dead vines. "He loves Herbology."
"Neville would be horrified at a fly, 'Mione," Ron said.
"You're all mean." Lucy extracted herself from the dead plant and let her eyes wander over it again. The history of it all was exciting. They were the only ones who knew what truly happened here. "Wish we had a camera. You could show it to your mum, Ron."
"Do you enjoy sentencing me to death?"
"Can we go already?" Harry said impatiently.
Ron and Lucy shared a look, then turned to Harry with mocking expressions. "Looks like someone's in a rush to save the stone again," Lucy teased.
"Yeah, Merlin forbid we stop the Boy-Who-Lived," Ron grinned.
"What, did you leave your glasses here last time, Harry?"
"Maybe his signed Lockhart note, he really treasures it."
"I hate you both!" Harry grabbed both of their arms and dragged them out of the Devil's Trap chamber, ignoring their loud laughter. Hermione followed behind them. She tried her best to hide her smile.
After a few moments, she and Ron managed to get a hold of themselves. They walked through the stone passageway in silence until something occurred to Lucy. She stopped, a wide smile on her face. "Right here!" She said loudly. Ron jumped at the sudden noise and even Tom's head snapped over to look at her. "Right here is where I convinced Quirinus Quirrell to take a billion points away from Hufflefpuff."
"What?" Tom said.
Hermione's eyes widened. "That's how you did it?!"
Proudly, Lucy nodded.
"Let me get this straight," Ron said slowly. "You spied beside an evil bloke all year... Then when you're off to take over the world, you stop to ask him for a prank?" She nodded again. "I'm telling Fred and George. They'll have a fit."
"I wonder if I can convince Lockhart to do the same," she said thoughtfully.
"If you don't, I will," Harry assured her. He had a wide grin on his face. Even though she had been teasing him moments earlier, her story had been too funny to not laugh at.
Tom stared at the ceiling. "Once again, I hate children."
The next chamber was a bit more sad than the previous. All of the keys that had previously been floating lay on the cold, stone floor, undisturbed. At least until Lucy kicked them as she approached them. "Wonder why they didn't take the brooms," She said, spotting them leaning against the wooden door.
"I don't think anyone's been in here since last year, Luce," Harry observed. He crouched down and wiped a thick layer of dust off the ground. "They must have gotten us out and then left it alone."
"Seems like a shame. This is a rather nice room," Hermione frowned. "Well, shall we keep going? There's not much to look at here."
"I'm taking a key," Ron announced. He picked one up. It turned to ash in his palm. "Oh, what!'
"Hah! No souvenirs for you!" Lucy laughed at his dismayed expression. She picked up a ton of keys, letting them all disintegrate. Ron glared at her as she did so. "Aren't you glad we're all friends, Ronniekins?"
"Don't mind her, Ron," Harry said. "Lucy's just sore because she didn't come here with us three."
"Yeah, you came here with You-Know-Who, didn't you?" Ron grinned.
Lucy knew they were trying to tease her for a change. Well, it wasn't going to work. She smiled and said, "Yes, and we had a grand old time."
Tom stared at her with an amused look on his face. She looked at him. "What?"
"Nothing," he smiled, tilting his head. "Nothing at all, dear Lucy."
"You're creepy," she mouthed at him.
He only smiled wider and then gestured to the door ahead of them. "Why don't you continue? I'm also rather curious."
She gave him one last stare before looking back at her other friends. And Tom thought she was weird. The only difference between them was that Tom called her out on being strange all the time; she politely kept her opinion to herself. Most of the time.
Ron and Harry had joined in on picking up the keys. Once they turned to ash, they flung handfuls at each other. Lucy smirked at the sight. She wasn't the only childish one. Patiently, she waited with Hermione as the boys played until they finally noticed them watching.
They froze. They looked from each other, to the girls, and then at the ashes in their hands.
"Er— nothing happened," Harry said quickly. He wiped his hands on his trousers, then strode over to the wooden door and pushed it open.
"Right," Hermione repeated sarcastically. "Nothing happened."
Lucy groaned and strode past Harry into the next chamber. "I want to see where the troll is! Let's gooooo!"
She nearly stepped onto the giant chess board, when both Harry and Tom put an arm out in front of her to stop her. Harry's, obviously, was more effective. She gave them each an impatient look.
Tom first looked disdainfully at Harry for mirroring him, and then he jerked his head toward the chess board. "It might still be in effect, idiot," he scolded.
"You almost stepped in a pile of troll bogey," Harry explained.
Lucy looked down and sure enough, there was. It had a mysteriously Quirrell-shaped footprint in it. "How can it still be there?" He'd had to step in it a full year ago.
"Troll fluids never dry," Hermione informed. She inspected the pile with a curious look on her face. "I hadn't gotten a chance to see the last troll— they really are fascinating, aren't they?"
"Well, if you're done inspecting troll snot, I'd like to keep going," Ron said. He appeared a bit green at the sight. "Unless you want to play chess?" He added hopefully.
"NO!" Harry and Lucy snapped.
His face fell. "I figured."
If Lucy never played a game of chess again, it'd be too soon. She only tolerated playing it with Tom since he had interesting stories to tell.
Ron walked glumly to the next chamber. Hermione patted him consolingly on the arm. "Maybe this evening," she offered.
"I'll burn your chess set," Lucy said cheerfully. Harry whacked her on the arm, giving her a reproachful look. "I mean— I will not burn your chess set, and if it spontaneously happens to catch on fire, I'll have had nothing to do with it." He hit her again. "Agh! Okay, I'll leave the chess set alone! Quit abusing me, Potter!"
"Then quit threatening Ron's belongings!"
"You'd think the Boy-Who-Lived would be kinder," she huffed. He stared at her until she finally smiled. "Okay, yeah, that doesn't mean much coming from me."
"I finally understand how you four bring yourselves into disasters," Tom frowned. He walked ahead of them all to the next chamber. "Stop dawdling— as long as we're here, we might as well be efficient."
Lame! Prefect! Lucy thought at him, glaring at his retreating back. Without turning around, he said, "And wipe that look off your face." What! That was unfair.
"I feel an inner voice in my head that is calling me to that room..." Lucy said ominously, stepping toward the next chamber. Tom paused and turned his head to the side without turning around,
"What's it saying?" Hermione wondered.
"It's being very annoying."
Tom glared and fully turned around, crossing his arms over her chest. "I wait for the day where you can't get away with this," he stated.
"I live for the day when the voice in my head doesn't crush all my dreams," Lucy countered.
Cautiously, Harry patted her on the arm. "I... I'm sure that day will come, Lucy."
"Now they think you're insane. Are you happy?"
Quite, she thought. She flashed him a smile before finally following him into the next chamber. She remembered this one as the troll chamber, but evidently, Dumbledore had discarded its corpse. This boded well for the final chamber— she really didn't want to see a human skeleton in there.
"Boring!" she announced and continued on without stopping. From behind her, her friends shared an exasperated look before following her.
The next one was slightly more interesting. The seven vials were still there, along with the riddle. Most curiously, the vials were all refilled and the doorway was still ignited with flames. Hermione reached for the slip of paper and brought it up to her nose, frowning.
"It's different," she muttered. "These are all runes... I can't understand it."
Harry gave a disappointed sigh. "We've come all this way, I'd hate to turn back now. Isn't there a translation spell?"
"Can I see?" Lucy asked. By now, Hermione knew not to underestimate Lucy's intelligence, so she handed her the slip of paper without hesitation. Lucy gave Tom a meaningful glance.
He raised his eyebrows at her. "Do you need my help?" He asked, unable to keep a smirk off his face.
She gave him a pleeease? sort of look. He walked over smugly and stood behind her, leaning over to read the note. After a few moments and cursory glances over the vials, he finally nodded one. "The middle one will get you through."
She nodded and immediately reached for it. Hermione gasped and let out a panicked, "Wait!" as Lucy brought the vial to her lips and took a sip. When she didn't immediately drop over dead, Hermione's face regained color, and she put a hand over her chest. "How... How did you know that?"
"I didn't," Lucy replied. She handed Hermione the vial and then strode through the flames, snickering at the horrified looks her friends were giving her.
Tom shook his head, following her. "That was horrible. You couldn't have given a better excuse?"
"If you act insane enough, no one will question you anymore," she told him.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione entered the final chamber. Harry wasn't as fascinated as the other two, who had never seen it before. Ron walked around with a dazed look on his face. "This is it, then?" he said breathlessly. "This is where you saw him?"
Lucy glanced around the chamber. A solemn feeling filled the air; suddenly, she didn't feel like joking anymore.
"Yeah," Harry said, unbothered. He was staring at the Mirror of Erised. "It's still here?"
Tom stilled. He gazed at the mirror, stunned. "That— The Mirror of Erised is here?"
"They moved it from the classroom in the restriction section to here... and then just left it," Lucy said. To her friends, it was a mere observation but to Tom it was her explanation.
He still appeared shocked at the revelation. "It's been in Hogwarts this entire time...?"
Harry stepped away from the mirror with a sight grin on his face. "Still my parents," he said. He no longer had the desperate aura about him like he did last year. Now, he seemed more fond than anything. "Any of you want to take a look?"
"No, thanks. It might eat me," Ron said. Lucy stared at him. "What? You-Know-Who was here! He might have cursed it."
"You do know it wasn't Voldemort the entire time, right? He was more like a passenger." Ron still looked unsure. Rolling her eyes, Lucy walked up to the mirror. Tom followed her. His face was clear of any emotion, but she suspected he was just as curious as she was.
She looked in the mirror and grinned. Beside her, Tom was still standing there, but he was solid instead of slightly transparent. The number of friends in the image had went down since last year; Megan and Wayne were no longer there, but Tom and Mallory's presence more than made up for it. "Still good!" she announced.
"Your fake parents?" Harry asked. Hermione elbowed him with an aghast expression on her face. "What? It's what she saw last time!"
"No, now it's my friends!" She glanced at Tom. He was staring at the mirror, but he stopped to look down at her. "And a lame prefect." He rolled his eyes and turned back to the mirror.
"Percy? Ugh!" Ron pulled a face.
Lucy smiled. If only he knew. She looked back at the mirror. She expected to see the same image as always, but with a jolt of shock, she saw something completely different.
Tom stood in the center of the mirror dressed in fine, black dress robes, his white shirt stained with blood. He looked so different, with a jeweled, ebony mask over his red eyes. At his feet, puddles of blood trickled by in a constant stream of sorrow... He wasn't smiling. Behind him, in the distance, an army of cloaked figures... and by his side stood herself in black robes of equal quality. She went between looking adoringly at Tom to smiling wickedly at something behind her.
Just as quickly as she saw it, it was gone. She was back to looking at her friends. Her entire body felt cold. What was that? Did she want that? Why was Tom covered in blood?
Tom laughed suddenly, loud and high. He stepped away from the mirror with a wide smile on his face. He glanced at Lucy and caught the horrified look on her face. Quickly, he sobered himself, though he was clearly trying to fight a smile.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," he said bemusedly. "Is something wrong?"
She turned away from him, wide-eyed. How was she meant to relay that to him? He'd laugh in her face! Or be incredibly disturbed that she saw him in such a manner. Mostly, she was confused... Why would she have that as her heart's greatest desire? She liked Dark Spells as much as the next person, but she liked to think she wouldn't happily skip around in a puddle of blood. And while she cared for Tom, he wasn't the center of her world or anything. She still loved hanging out with Harry, Anthony, and everyone else.
Then could that have been... Tom's vision? No, that didn't make any sense either... She knew he was sadistic at times, but he wanted to be a professor. She always imagined his heart's desire as him sitting alone in a room filled with books and other magical treasures.
But if it wasn't Tom's wish, then was it hers? Had it even been there at all? She was beginning to think that she was crazy, after all. She hardly remembered falling asleep these days, yet she woke up exhausted. Maybe... maybe it had been her eyes playing tricks on her.
But it looked real, an annoying voice in her head reminded. She shoved it away. Magic was unpredictable and evaded reason; and if the image hadn't returned yet, it might have been a fluke after all. But still... she'd never imagined Tom Riddle so dark before.
She looked back at her friend, perhaps for reassurance that he was still the lame prefect she always knew. The smirk on his face had disappeared and he was now staring at her with a furrowed brow.
"I think we'd better leave. You look tired, Lucy."
And leave, they did. Hermione remarked that it was approaching lunch, and of course Ron and Harry would not miss such a joyous occasion. They retreated from each of the trials until they were at the trap door. Then, Hermione cast a spell that fashioned the dead vines of the plant into a rope ladder. It was very impressive and despite Lucy's confusion, she stopped to appreciate it.
"Sick, Hermione," Lucy said, nodding.
Hermione nodded back at her.
They climbed out, but Lucy lingered at the trap door. Harry shot her a quizzical glance. She waved a hand at him to go on. "I'll be there in a few minutes, don't worry."
Harry nodded, pulled a face at her, and then left.
Her friends were so kind.
As soon as he shut the door behind him, Lucy sat cross-legged on the floor. The only light came from her wand. Tom stared at her for a few moments and then sat down across from her.
"Soooo, what'd you see in the mirror?" Lucy asked him.
The corners of his lips quirked upward. "That's a personal question, Lucy."
"So is everything you ask me. What'd you see? And don't pull a Dumbledore!"
"You are so childish sometimes," he informed her. "If you must know, I saw myself solid, out of the diary. I assume you saw your friends since you practically shouted it."
She ignored his disapproving tone, frowning. So he didn't see the image either. That was... concerning. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a softy, I know. You want out of the diary, but you haven't told me if it's even possible?"
Tom smiled, folding his hands in his lap. "I have a theory floating around. All in good time, of course."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" She was sort of excited to see what would happen if he ever left the diary. She wouldn't be able to get away with nearly as much, but then she'd get to introduce him to Harry! Maybe Dumbledore would let him attend Hogwarts, since he was technically in his fifth year.
He pushed himself up from the ground, looking down at her with a smile on his face. Ever since they left the Mirror of Erised, he had a new bounce to his step. She found his enthusiasm contagious, and she smiled back at him.
"Continue as you've been doing. I'll take care of everything— all you need to worry about is exams." She raised her eyebrows at him. His lips thinned. "And not dying."
"Always not dying," she agreed, standing up as well. She left the room with the trapdoor. How strange, she thought, that she had a small adventure while the rest of the castle remained exactly the same.
Also, it probably wasn't smart of her to tell her friends to continue when someone was out for her blood.
Oh well.
She started walking toward the Great Hall, holding her wand in her hand.
Tom walked a ways behind her. He was alert, certainly, but also lost in his own thoughts... A talent he obviously possessed. His gaze travelled to the girl walking in front of him, and a smirk pulled at his lips.
"All in good time," he repeated quietly. The phantom feeling of blood running through his veins ignited each step.
Softly, he laughed.