It seemed that Professor McGonagall had done everything in her power to keep Lucy and Harry from sharing a class. She had heard tales of their disasters in other subjects— like how she and Harry had miniature duels in Charms, and their paper-Quidditch matches in History of Magic.
Lucy understood her nerves. Harry was not usually a troublemaker, but when they were in the same class, he resembled his father a lot more than he normally would.
Perhaps giving him his dad's files was not the best choice for McGonagall's mental health.
"Harry, will you get your bony elbows away from my candlestick? I'm trying to work," Lucy scowled when Harry elbowed her on accident. He wasn't the greatest at Transfiguration, and it might've had to do with the fact that he thought waving his wand as hard as he could would somehow make the object transfigure.
"You're not trying to work, I am," Harry retorted. "You've been throwing paper at Ron since we've got here."
"You've been what?" Ron demanded. He turned around to face them, and a few pieces of crumpled up parchment fell from his hair onto the floor. He watched them fall with a stunned expression. Then he scowled. "Thanks a lot, Luce. I've always wanted to look like a filing cabinet. Really, I have."
"I'm only trying to help you achieve your dreams, Ronald," she said sweetly.
All of a sudden, a piece of parchment hit her in the cheek. She slowly turned her head to look at Harry, who wore a too-innocent expression on his face.
Kindly, she said, "This is why Voldemort's trying to kill you, Harry."
Harry shrugged in a 'yeah, I suppose' sort of way. Professor McGonagall was not as understanding. She stared at Lucy like she had personally tried to kill Harry herself. "Ms. Rochester, really!" She said, aghast.
"It's alright, Professor, Lucy knows Voldemort better than I do," Harry replied, just as kindly.
McGonagall's lips turned to a thin line. "Do I need to separate you two?"
The smiles slid off their faces. Dear Merlin, classes would be unbearable if that happened.
They'd tried switching up their partners in other classes. It never worked out. With Ron, Harry would never get anything done and Lucy would torment the poor Weasley too much. With Hermione, Harry would still never get anything done, since he was too busy copying her notes. Again, Lucy tormented Hermione too much. No, their duo was the only one with legs to stand on— Lucy's work ethic was too unpredictable for Harry to rely on, and Harry was too kind for her to fully argue with.
With the professor's threat, they quickly turned back to their individual projects, working quiet as a mouse.
"Works every time," McGonagall muttered.
As per usual, their silence didn't last long. Harry's efforts in making his spell work grew more aggressive as the class went one, and it wasn't long before he elbowed Lucy again.
"Do you want to duel, Potter? Is that what's about to happen right now?" She demanded, pointing her wand at him.
He rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm, forcing it down to the desk. "Will you calm down? If we get moved, I don't want to have to sit next to Ron. He's a nightmare, honestly."
"I'm just sitting here!" Ron said, offended.
They ignored him.
Hermione sniffed, leaning back in her chair. "Hurts, doesn't it?" She asked with a pointed stare.
He winced. Lucy hadn't been there at the time, but she didn't put it past Ron to have said that.
"Sick burn, Hermione," she said, nodding. Hermione smiled back at her. "Almost as burnt as the multiple people you've set on fire." Hermione's smile faded away, and she reached for her wand. Lucy hastily backtracked. She did not want to be set on fire. It was a bit chilly in the classroom today, but there was no need to be so drastic. "Kidding, kidding, you're lovely! If you're going to hex someone, get Harry! He's been mucking about this entire hour."
Harry looked at Lucy's candlestick, which had remained untouched for the entire class period. "You're not even trying!" He said disapprovingly.
No, she was not. Which was a little out of the usual for her, but she had a very good excuse— or at least a sort of good one. Actually, she didn't have a good excuse at all...
She was going to do the required research for their spell today, but Tom decided to be a git and make her return to the restricted section. Instead of learning to turn a candlestick into a bowl, she now knew how to cast four different semi-lethal curses and one very disturbing reanimation spell. She couldn't rightfully claim that she wasn't interested in dark magic— she liked how it made her feel— but she would also like to get a decent grade in Transfiguration.
She couldn't very well repeat any of this to Harry. Or any of her friends. Even Malfoy would think she was a lunatic. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows at Harry. "I've already done my work, Potter. Maybe if you were as great of a wizard as I am, you'd have done it by now."
"Really? Because all I'm seeing is a candlestick," Harry said flatly.
She picked up her candlestick and inspected it. "Why, it appears you are correct! Your observation skills astound me every day, darling."
She really had to stop hanging out with Tom.
Professor McGonagall, along with pretty much everyone in the room, all knew very well how Lucy liked to talk a big game. The professor gave up on trying to get them back on track and instead, she walked over to the pair, a wicked gleam in her eye.
"Since you're so full of energy today, Ms. Rochester, I don't think you'd mind performing for the class?"
She had said the magic words. At once, everyone in the class turned to look at Lucy. It was only about thirteen people because most of Lucy's classmates had been petrified, but an audience was an audience. And she was not one to back down from a challenge.
"I would be honored to, Professor," Lucy said, almost solemnly. She pushed her chair out from the table. Its legs screeched against the wooden floor, which was her intention, and everyone winced at the sound of it.
"You really are a nuisance today," Ron complained.
"Quiet, Weasley, I need to summon my magic."
"That's not how it works," Lavender Brown pointed out. Lucy responded by winking at her. Needless to say, Lavender was very confused.
Lucy stood up, and there was an intense silence as she rolled her sleeves up to her elbows. Hermione sighed, burying her face in her hands. "This is going to be a disaster," she lamented.
Professor McGonagall also looked like she regretted her decision.
Now, Lucy had no idea what the incantation was, nor did she have a plan for what she was about to do. She decided to just go ahead and wing it, and that was precisely what she did. Just like Ollivander instructed her at Diagon Alley, she simply 'gave it a wave'.
The effects were instantaneous.
A thundering CRACK! rang throughout the room, making even herself jump. All the windows in the classroom shattered, blowing glass outside the castle. At the same time, the curtains fell over the windows and plunged the room into pitch darkness. She heard a few screams, notably from Lavender and Ernie, and if that wasn't enough, the door to the classroom blew off its hinges.
The light streaming in from the corridor illuminated Professor McGonagall's deep glare.
Lucy forced a smile. "Well— at least I tried?"
The professor didn't move a muscle, yet she somehow related to Lucy all she needed to know. After a certain point, McGonagall didn't have to speak to let the girl know how she felt.
Lucy began collecting her things into her bag. "I'll see Snape for detention later tonight, Professor," she assured her. McGonagall arched an eyebrow. Lucy sighed. "And tomorrow."
"That will be all, Ms. Rochester," McGonagall nodded.
Perhaps she had stunned the professor a little too much, because ordinarily she would have never been allowed to wander the corridors by herself. While getting kicked out of class hadn't been her plan for the day, she could work with it. One could never complain about a little alone time.
She hummed a little tune to herself as she walked through the empty passages. A few portraits waved at her and she happily waved back. Her first obstacle showed itself when she reached the moving staircases.
She stopped at the edge, hesitant.
Ever since the incident, she found herself wary to step foot on the staircases. She knew it was irrational of her— Dumbledore would have put more powerful wards on it— but it didn't stop the worry from scratching at the back of her mind, reminding her what might happen. It was easier when she had her friends with her; she tended to travel in packs these days, so it was never much of an issue. Now she was alone, and suddenly the shadows on the walls looked a lot darker.
"Hey, Tom?" She said aloud, mindful to speak Parseltongue.
A cold feeling appeared at her back. She welcomed the goosebumps that made their way up her spine, and she turned to look at Tom with a bright smile. He was not as pleased to see her. Narrowing his eyes, his gaze flickered around their new surroundings.
"How is it," he began softly, "That hardly twenty minutes ago, your class began, and yet we are standing in an empty corridor?"
"Remember how last night I tried working on my Transfiguration and you were all like, 'No, my dearest friend, we are instead going to traverse down the path of darkness and then we'll get ice cream or something'."
"I remember a very different conversation."
"Tomato, potato," she said dismissively.
"That's not the saying—"
"Anyway, choosing the quest of darkness ended up getting me kicked out of class."
He let out a light scoff. "I'm sure there were other factors. Were you being..." he trailed off and gestured vaguely at her.
"Being what?" She began, offended. She wasn't sure at what, but whenever she acted offended to Tom, he tended to change the subject.
This time wasn't the case. He was completely unbothered by her tone. "Yourself," he finished. She opened her mouth to argue, but then she realized that yes, she had indeed been on her usual behavior. The only difference this time was that Harry was in her class. Tom seemed to share this sentiment. "I knew letting Potter sit by you would end in disaster."
"I can be perfectly terrible on my own, thank you."
She felt a little comforted that Tom was with her now. She stepped onto the staircase, her hand gripping the railing a little too tightly as it took her down toward the main floor.
"I know," Tom replied.
His lips pulled down into a frown as a silence settled between them. They were quiet for most of their journey. Once they reached the Hufflepuff common room, he turned to face her. "Well, what are you going to do for the rest of the..." He pretended to recall it, although Lucy knew he had the schedule memorized. "...one and a half hours you have left of Transfiguration? I'm certainly not going to entertain you."
"What else do you have to do? You're trapped with me. You literally can't do anything else." She scoffed. He glared at her. "Too far? I see. Well I am going to keep planning the heist, so you can do... whatever it is you do in that diary of yours."
"I was under the impression you already had a plan."
"A general one, sure," she said as she entered her dormitory. She dropped her bag on top of her desk and then sank into her chair, pulling out empty parchment and a few red muggle pens. He showed a small amount of displeasure at the sight of them, which she cheerfully ignored. She found that when she had to write quickly, constantly dipping her quill into ink slowed her down.
Tom sat on the chair beside her desk. She found herself bemused sometimes by how much of her life had changed, all due to the boy sitting beside her. Her dorm room, once filled with her friends, was now completely empty, and for a few months now it had been tuned specifically to her friendship with Tom. She had the chair from one of the other desks beside her own and she had another chair beside her bed. If he wanted to lounge around outside the diary, he used Susan's empty bed; she turned the blankets an emerald green. Anthony had once questioned her about her peculiar design choices. Her only response was 'Don't question the Heir'. He understood.
"Where's that snake of yours?" Tom questioned, drawing Lucy from her musings.
"He's sitting right in front of me," she said innocently.
She could see humor flash in his eyes for a split second, but he was too proper to admit it. "Very funny," he deadpanned.
"I am, aren't I? Ford's memorizing his path to the Headmaster's office, but between you and me, I think he snuck outside to catch mice. I don't know why he feels the need to lie about it, like, I told him it was fine, but I guess to each their own—"
"The plan?" He said impatiently.
She didn't know why he cared to know, since he outright told her he wouldn't help with it. She decided to satiate his curiosity anyhow. "It's nothing glamorous. I've been showing Ford words to look for, and he's already found a way into the Headmaster's office. Now I've just got to find a way to keep Dumbledore distracted long enough for Ford to take the files. I'm thinking Fred and George might be the best choice for that part..."
"And how do you know the snake will be able to open the cabinets in the first place?"
Lucy shot him a smile completely laced with mischief. He looked expectantly back at her, and so she crossed over to her bed, flipping the blanket up. Then she reached under her bed. With a soft noise of effort, she managed to pull out a sideways filing cabinet she'd stuffed underneath her bed.
Tom stared at it, unsure of how to react. He settled for slowly resting his chin on his hand, leaning against the desk. "How did you...?" He squinted at her as though he didn't know if he really wanted to ask.
She shrugged in reply.
She didn't particularly want to admit that she, Maxine, and Heidi all worked together a few nights ago, carrying it through the castle in the middle of the night. Maxine didn't need any convincing to use her muscles, and Heidi disliked Filch enough to join in. It was one of the few times she left the diary inside her dorm room. She had no desire to see Tom's disappointed expression as she smuggled a filing cabinet all the way from Filch's office.
She could have used the old caretaker's office, which was closer, but the thought of Filch's confused face as he realized one of his heavy cabinets had gone missing was too tempting to pass up.
"Anyway, yeah, Ford's gotten the hang of opening a filing cabinet, and I think that currently makes him the most skilled snake in the world," she said, pushing the cabinet back under her bed.
Tom opened his mouth to ask her just where she would be putting that cabinet now that she had it, but he decided against it. He knew when a conversation would lead nowhere and it was too early to deal with that right now.
"It seems you've got everything under control," he mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I have to wonder if things would be this exciting if anyone else had gotten my diary."
Lucy giggled. "I bet you wish that happened. It'd be a lot less trouble."
"And you'd almost certainly be dead, or at least expelled," he added thoughtfully. "It could always be worse. Imagine if I'd been handed to Granger." He grimaced at the thought.
"Don't worry, Hermione's more sensible than me— she'd have thrown the diary away the moment you spoke to her."
"Yes, I suppose it's good luck that you're an idiot."
"And I suppose it's good luck that I enjoy unpleasant company," she returned.
He smirked at her reply; he appreciated their banter as long as her responses were witty enough. Of course, it was much more fun to give ridiculous replies.
She sat back at her desk and reached for her notes. She had everything mostly finalized, but it wouldn't hurt to double check— she only had one chance to break into Dumbledore's office. If her plan failed, the headmaster would know, and she didn't think she'd be able to lie her way out of that one...
"It's a bit daunting, isn't it?" She said out loud. Tom glanced at her. "Stealing from Albus Dumbledore's office. You'd have to be either idiotic or really bloody insane."
Tom laughed.
"Luckily, you're both."
She spent that night scrubbing cauldron bottoms until her hands gave out on her; evidently, Snape didn't want to fall back into the habit of seeing her in detention, and in his attempts to ward her off, he made her clean every single one of the cauldrons, including the spare ones he'd deemed 'unsalvageable'.
It was nearing one in the morning and she wasn't as close to being finished as she'd like.
"This has to be cruel and unusual punishment," she grumbled to Tom, who took great amusement in telling her she'd missed a spot.
He definitely didn't have to be here, but he insisted on some nonsense about 'keeping guard' which really translated to tormenting Lucy as she served her detention. And he called her childish.
If that wasn't bad enough, she had another evil Slytherin to deal with. Students weren't allowed to be unattended, especially after curfew, and so while she suffered through the night, Snape calmly graded papers while sipping a cup of tea that she swore he added a shot of Firewhiskey to.
I mean, whatever gets you through the day, she'd thought.
"Less talking, more scrubbing," Snape snapped at her.
She made a displeased face. He wanted to play that game? She could be a git to the point where he wished she wasn't in detention right now.
"Why aren't you grading in your office?" She wondered aloud. She knew very well that his office was obsolete ever since she'd permanently stuck the furniture to the ceiling. He could get another one, but all the nearest ones weren't even in the dungeon.
"Be quiet," The professor said emotionlessly. He scribbled a note on the margin of an essay with more pressure than necessary.
She scowled at his lack of reaction. How was she meant to have any entertainment around here? She went back to scrubbing, and it wasn't until she heard a snapping noise that she looked up. The potions master had pressed too hard, and his quill snapped in half.
It took everything she had not to burst out laughing as he furiously reached for another one.
"You should invest in muggle pens, Professor," she said, biting back a smile. "Red ones are the best, black ink gets quite confusing when it's all jumbled together, don't you think?"
Snape let the quill drop out of his hand. He stared at Lucy long and hard, and slowly, she could see the realization begin to dawn upon him. Slowly, Lucy reached into her pockets and dropped handfuls of muggle pens, his red muggle pens, onto the floor.
His face contorted into a look of absolute hatred, and he growled out, "YOU!"
Heir of Slytherin be damned, she had pushed her luck way too far. She threw her sponge down and sprinted toward the door, nearly slipping on the piles of pens she'd unleashed. She heard the screeching of Snape's chair against the wooden floor, but she had already legged it down the hallway.
She didn't stop. Not even for Filch, who yelled at her to cease running immediately; now she had two old men after her blood. She ran even faster, hurtling down the corridors. She didn't even stop for Peeves, although he darted after her as well.
"Roachie's escaping!" He said gleefully, floating alongside her.
"Roachie's about to have a heart attack!" She returned.
She finally reached the Hufflepuff common room, and as soon as the entrance closed behind her, she collapsed into the soft cushions of the couch. She rolled onto her back, catching her breath.
Tom looked down at her with wide eyes. "You're... incorrigible."
She rested one arm under her head and then pointed up at him with the other, her chest heaving. "And you're... jealous."
"Of what? You personally signed your death warrant to Snape."
"When there's a moment, you've got to seize it, Riddle," she said as she kept pointing at him. "Now you see, I am no longer in detention, and my beautiful little hands aren't suffering from various chemicals. Snape is also having a mental breakdown over some muggle pens. I'd say that there's no loss in this situation. In fact, it is a net gain when you look at the statistics."
"I've just checked the statistics, and they all say that you're a menace," he deadpanned. "Now go to sleep, will you? You still have classes tomorrow."
Lucy rolled her eyes, but agreed.
"Why's Snape glaring at you like you killed his mother?" Ron wondered at breakfast the next morning.
Lucy turned to meet eyes with the potions master and sure enough, he was staring at her with enough hate to fuel a thousand suns. She wondered just how many times he had to venture out to buy muggle pens for him to give her a look like that. She reckoned it was a lot.
At least she returned them.
"Because I did," she replied ominously, stabbing her porridge viciously with a fork.
It splashed out a bit and landed on Harry's arm, to which he turned and gave her an incredibly offended look.
"Why?" He asked. "Why would you do that?"
"You're in the splash zone, mate," she shrugged. "It happens."
"Are we going to ignore that you said you killed Snape's mother? Because you say a lot of rubbish, Luce, but you're not getting away with this one," Harry said, instead of dignifying her response with a proper argument.
She sighed, leaning back. She folded her hands on the table. "Alright, here's how it happened. I went looking for the monster last night, right? The Worm was offended because someone compared her to Snape, and between you and me I'd be awfully offended too, so she and I hatched together a plan to get rid of Snape. 'Cept he looks so much like his mum that the Worm got confused and killed her instead. Now he's miffed about it. I mean Harry and I don't have a mum either and you don't see us complaining."
"I have complained," Harry argued. "Extensively."
"And could we stop calling the monster the Worm? It's not the White River Monster attacking everyone. There's not even a river," Hermione added.
Lucy only shook her head in reply and then focused back on her breakfast. She muttered a spell and turned her fork into a spoon, which was absolutely unnecessary of her considering she had a spoon directly to her left. Harry looked impressed by it, so mission accomplished.
As she started eating her porridge, Harry spoke up. "But speaking of the monster..." he began in a low voice. "When are you going to...?"
"Rob Dumbledore?" She said in Parseltongue. "Today, I think." She switched back to English. "Speaking of which, I need to borrow the Weasleys." She cupped her hands over her mouth and called, "FRED! GEORGE!"
They were only a few spaces down the table, but they shouted back to her as if they were across the valley.
"LUCY!"
"COULD I HAVE A WORD?"
"YOU CAN HAVE SEVERAL!" Fred shouted.
"AS MANY AS YOU WANT!" George added.
"GREAT, SO WHAT I'M THINKING IS—"
"Ms. Rochester!" McGonagall said sharply from the Professor's table.
Lucy caught her eye and then smiled sheepishly. She went over to the Twins without anymore shouting, making the professor sigh, shaking her head.
McGonagall mumbled under her breath to Professor Sprout too quietly for any students to hear. "Tell me, Pomona, why I'm controlling your student?"
"Oh, she's harmless," Professor Sprout dismissed. Snape looked as though someone sucker punched him. "And she's sitting at your table, so that's your problem now."
"Pomona!"
Across the hall, Lucy finally reached the Weasley Twins. She sat across from them and squared her shoulders in a businesslike pose. Really, she was imitating Tom's normal posture. "I have a request," she said solemnly.
"So do we," Fred beamed. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a blue gumdrop, pushing it into her hand. "Eat this."
She arched an eyebrow at George. He only smiled at her, which wasn't exactly reassuring. She knew this wasn't a simple little gumdrop, and it would almost certainly cause her harm... but she wanted to see what it did. She shrugged and popped the thing into her mouth.
When she looked down, she realized she had turned a cerulean shade of blue.
"Oh, wicked!" She grinned, turning her palms over.
"Wicked is exactly right!" George beamed.
She delightedly checked her reflection in a goblet, and sure enough, every inch of her skin was blue, including her hair. She laughed out loud; across from them, Percy had a different reaction.
"Fred and George!" He growled, standing up from his seat. He pointed at them. "Undo that now!"
"Yeah, yeah, don't have a hippogriff about it," Fred said, unbothered. He gave her another gumdrop, this time red.
She ate it, and her skin was back to normal. "It could use a bit more sweetener," she advised.
"And what about her hair?" Percy said impatiently.
Fred and George shared a knowing look.
"Er..." George began, pulling at the collar of his shirt.
Fred chuckled and patted Lucy on the head. Her blue-haired head. "We haven't worked that out yet..."
"But it should come out. After a few washes."
"Few dozen or so," Fred muttered.
Percy looked ready to kill them on the spot. Lucy liked that he was affronted on her behalf, but she didn't mind all that much. If anything, it was good that their favor hadn't gone according to plan. That meant they'd be more willing to help her with this... admittedly risky plan of hers.
"I'll live," she shrugged. "Blonde was getting a bit old anyway... Now, if I may talk to you in private, boys?"
"Lucy, they just pranked you. That's not a good idea," Percy warned.
"Trust me, you want deniability on this one, Perce. But thanks for caring— this is why you're my favorite Weasley." She grinned at him as he was taken aback by the notion.
She didn't exactly have a favorite Weasley, but if she did, Percy would be near the top. He was like Tom, except Percy cared about his family, whereas Tom hardly cared about anyone. Or maybe he did, in his own way.
Percy stared his brothers down. "If you prank her again..." he trailed off with a stern glare. "Lucy's had a rough enough year as it is without you two adding to it."
George actually looked a bit guilty. Before the older Weasley could tear into them further, Lucy grabbed their wrists and dragged them out of the Great Hall. Once the doors were closed, she turned to them.
"I need a distraction, boys. A big one," she told them bluntly.
Fred's eyes lit up. "How big a distraction does an ickle badger need?"
"A big one," She stressed. "As in, big enough to keep Dumbledore out of his office for... say, thirty minutes?"
She really only needed twenty, but it was better to overshoot than for them to run out of time. She waited anxiously as Fred and George mulled it over. Unlike her, they didn't jump into schemes half-hatched. It was surprisingly cunning of them.
"I think we can be of some assistance," Fred decided at last.
She beamed, practically jumping in place. George placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her still. "But, we're going to need your help," he added. "We're less likely to be expelled if it's all three of us caught— are you in?"
"So in," she said fervently.
Lucy ended up skipping History of Magic that morning in order to scheme with the Weasley twins, but she couldn't regard that as much of a loss. They'd huddled in a secret passageway, mapping out their prank. It was short notice for the twins, so subtly was not their highest priority. When she said big, she meant big.
Eventually, they had all the details ironed out, and they ambushed Ron, Harry and Hermione after class.
"What the—?" Ron started as Lucy dragged him into an empty classroom. Fred and George grabbed Harry, and Hermione trailed in behind them all. She looked worried at what was about to happen.
"The heist is underway, my friends," Lucy said solemnly. She reached into her bag and pulled out the parchment Fred and George spent their time scribbling on. "And we're going to need all hands on deck."
"Oh dear Merlin," Ron seemed to pale before her eyes. "You mean, you weren't joking about that? You're really going to steal from—?"
"Don't say it out loud!" George clamped a hand over his brother's mouth. "The first rule of pranking is that you must never admit it! Even in private!"
"I thought the first rule was 'Go big or go home'," Lucy frowned.
"I thought it was 'Don't get caught'," Fred argued.
George narrowed his eyes at them. "Whatever it is, deniability is key! Never forget that, Ronniekins." He released his hand from Ron's mouth and wiped it on his pant leg, grimacing. "You need some chapstick, dear brother."
"When was the last time you've washed your hands?" Ron demanded, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
"After Fred and I blew up the toilets, of course."
Ron went to punch George, but Hermione stepped between them with her hands on her hips. "Enough! We need to hurry up if we don't want to be late for class!" She said sharply. She turned to Lucy expectantly. "I suppose you've got tasks for us?"
"You're okay with this?" Fred asked with a shocked expression. Lucy agreed with him; she thought Hermione would be the hardest one to convince, especially since they weren't focusing on getting away with it.
"It's to find the Heir, and I think the safety of the students here is more important than a few detentions," Hermione insisted.
"It won't be a few detentions, Hermione. If it comes out you helped us, we'll have weeks," Lucy warned her. She knew Hermione would help either way, but she had to know what she was fully getting into. That, and there was a good chance Gryffindor would lose loads of points.
Hermione's cheeks turned pink just from thinking about getting into trouble. Otherwise she was determined. "What's the plan?"
Lucy quickly filled them in on it in the limited time they had; she was certain they'd be late for their next class...
It would all happen at lunch, when everyone was gathered together.
George's job was the most integral out of the entire operation. He claimed that somehow, he had a way to track Dumbledore's movements. He was vague when Lucy prodded at how he knew to the point where she gave up on asking. For now, she'd have to take his word for it.
While he kept track of the movements, Ron and Harry would linger in the corridor leading to Dumbledore's office. As soon as Dumbledore headed for his office, Harry would make up some excuse to see the Headmaster... Since he was the Boy-Who-Lived, Lucy had faith he'd be fine.
"And what will I do?" Hermione urged as she glanced anxiously at the clock. Two minutes since class had started.
"Crowd control. Once Lucy and I do our part, do what you have to do to keep people from the exits," Fred instructed.
This was one of the rare times Fred and George behaved in a serious manner. Lucy wasn't taking this lightly either; this either worked, or it didn't. She wasn't looking forward to what would happen if the plan failed.
Firstly, she'd have to deal with Dumbledore's questioning. Then she'd have to either tell her friends that Hagrid opened the Chamber fifty years ago, and try and get them to take her word for it, or she'd have to make up a lie about the diary and then face the wrath of Tom Riddle.
She shuddered, thinking about how mad her friend would be if she revealed the diary. She'd yet to see him truly furious, with anyone really, but she could feel in her bones that it wouldn't end well for anyone. Call it intuition, but she'd rather avoid that outcome.
"Okay, let's get to class now before anyone gets suspicious. I expect the professors will catch on if all of us are late for class, and then there's coincidentally a huge prank later," Hermione reasoned. The rest nodded in agreement. Although, a part of Lucy knew that they couldn't possibly get away with this without consequences.
She practically writhed in her seat all throughout Charms class. It got to the point where Malfoy snapped at her to stay still. She replied by hissing threats at him in Parseltongue, but unfortunately he wasn't unnerved by it. Her fellow Hufflepuffs certainly were and Flitwick himself didn't know how to reply.
She forced herself to arrive at the Great Hall at a walking pace like everyone else once class had ended. For the first time, she was anxious about a prank; normally she liked subtle little tricks, like hexing Flint's hair seaweed green or something. This was designed to capture the attention of everyone in the school. She didn't fancy causing trouble that she couldn't get away with.
Not even she could burrow her way out of everything.
""S everything in place?" Lucy muttered to Fred as she passed the table. She couldn't linger for too long; the professors always got suspicious when she spoke with the Weasley twins for a prolonged amount of time. Her yelling match with them this morning wouldn't help matters either.
"Yep, it'll go as smoothly as it can." Fred seemed excited in the way that he always did before a big prank. His eyes were alight with mischief, and even though George wasn't beside him, he alone could emit quite a lot of chaotic energy. "Remember your spell, alright? Take your position and I'll follow your signal."
She nodded and continued on to the Hufflepuff table. Once she sat next to Anthony, he fixed her with an offended look. He gave a loud 'Humph!' and turned away from her, arms crossed.
"Nice to see you too, mum," she said sarcastically.
"Am I your mum? Or have those Weasels taken my place?" Anthony said crossly.
Cedric tore his eyes away from a passing Cho Chang to roll his eyes at his best friend. "Ignore him," he told Lucy. "It's that time of the month again— his emotions have been haywire since the divorce."
"I told you we could have worked it out, Ceddy!"
"Sometimes I don't know when he's joking," Daisy whispered to herself.
Lucy would have loved to continue that conversation, especially when Anthony was in a dramatic mood, but a pointed glance from Fred told her that she had better get a move on. Soon, the students who ate faster would leave the Great Hall, and they couldn't risk any professor leaving on account of unattended students.
She took in a deep breath, and then pulled out her wand.
She had sort of talked it over with Fred and George earlier... Her job was to draw everyone's attention in any way she could, so that Fred could do his part without anyone seeing. She'd scoured Riddle's Book for the perfect spell— and then she found one. Tom had appeared right after she found it, and he'd stared at her curiously as she stowed the dark book away in her bag. She didn't consult him about it since he outright refused to help with this plan of hers. Just as well... She was going to give him a big surprise.
"It's happening," she muttered to Tom. He appeared sitting beside her. Outwardly, he looked disinterested, but she knew he was observing intently. She pushed her nerves aside and gave him a wicked grin, and then she whispered, "Tenalaecus."
For a moment, she thought she blinked, and nothing had happened; but at the seconds trickled by, she realized that the darkness in her eyes hadn't passed. The entire room was pitch black.
First she heard faint muttering, and then the screams broke out. Arguing all across the Great Hall. Lucy's eyes widened. The book had entailed a fog obstructing the view of everyone in proximity to the caster, but now she realized that the book truly meant; the fog was not merely an innocent cloud. It was an entity of its own; she could hear it murmur, and through the black smoke she could catch glimpses of a vibrant red color, as though the fog was pulsating. Breathing.
Tom broke out into loud laughter. "What nerve you have, Lucy!" he said delightedly. She couldn't see him, but the cold presence on her shoulders told her he must have lay an arm across them. "That spell took a while to curate. Temperamental, too... I would advise against angering the mist, my dear."
"Angering the mist? What does that even mean?" She whispered in Parseltongue. No one could hear her over the commotion of students scrambling across the Great Hall.
Before Tom could answer, Anthony's voice split through the air. "Third years and lower come over to my voice!" he said sharply. She heard Hannah's frightened tenor as the other second years, and by the sounds of it the first years too, stumbled their way toward them. Lucy cursed under her breath and snuck away from her friend. He was too amazing for his own good.
The mist seemed to sense her momentary dismay. Suddenly, Anthony cried out in pain. The noise abruptly cut off.
"Anthony?!" Daisy's voice was panicked, and it tugged at Lucy's heartstrings to know that she caused that. "Anthony, what happened?!"
"Fuck that hurt— something just, I don't know, burnt me?" Anthony's voice was strangled with pain. "It still hurts— agh, kids, are you alright?"
"What did I just cast?" Lucy whispered, utterly horrified.
"A little spell I came up with over the summer," Tom said fondly. The chaos around them only seemed to grow, as the red pulses in the mist grew more rapid. With each loud outcry of a frightened student, the air seemed to become thicker. Lucy was finding it hard to breathe. "At the Orphanage, I was stuck with the most loathsome brats. They thought it was great fun to pick on the 'freak'. I'm sure you're familiar with that old game?"
"Yeah," Lucy said, trying not to sound impatient. It was great that Tom was talking about his feelings, but she'd rather he do that somewhere private instead of taking his sweet time in a potentially dangerous situation that she caused. Something about Dark Magic made him more sentimental.
"You know how much those filthy creatures think of themselves— that they are somehow above you and I. I found it most peculiar, however, that these children who inspired so much hatred were astoundingly afraid of something as trivial as the dark..." Tom chuckled, like it was an inside joke between him and Lucy, although she had no idea where he was going with this. "It had me thinking in between beatings. They were scared of a harmless entity, one that couldn't possibly cause them any sort of pain. I wanted a way to use that fear— to validate it. So I made this silly little thing. A darkness that demanded fear, one that punished the fearless, hard-headed creatures. It was rather childish of me, and I never thought I'd get around to using it in a practical sense. Once again, you continue to surprise me, dear. A brilliant spell used in a brilliant way. I think we both should be proud."
Perhaps she would have been proud, she thought, if the spell had been used on a different audience. She loathed to admit it, but thinking about the likes of Jennifer Bishop on the receiving end of this spell filled her with a certain thrill. Everyone at the Orphanage had, in some way, wronged her. Even Nathan hadn't been so innocent; he was not one of the ones throwing stones at her, but was it not just as bad to watch as the others did it? Laugh, even if he didn't agree? Tom was right, it was a childish desire that he made this spell for, but she could understand why he'd make it.
"Is that what the red light is?" Lucy wondered. "Fear?"
"Yes," Tom said smugly. "It fills the air with everyone's fear, which is clever enough, if I do say myself, but it also weaponizes that fear to punish the brave ones. I imagine that's why that Rickett boy was affected— he's astoundingly focused."
"Bloody awesome is what you mean, but I'd appreciate it if the mist wouldn't hurt my friends," Lucy scowled. "Like, attack Flint or something."
As if on cue, a loud shout from the Slytherin table broke through the panicked chatterings of the students. A bigger red flare broke through the mist.
"Did I mention? The mist also listens to its master," Tom said, a little too innocently.
"How did you make that—? You know what, you can tell me later." She couldn't check the time because of the darkness, but if she had to guess, around five minutes had passed since her spell took effect. She wondered if Fred would have to do his part of the distraction after all. Perhaps it would take it too far, since everyone was already panicking—
Before she could finish that thought, a series of BANGS! filled her ears.
Flashes of greens, blues, and yellows crackled into the air, exploding above the heads of all the students. It was hard to tell through the thick fog, but ginormous fireworks were exploding high into the air of the great hall, raining down what appeared to be thick goo. A huge chunk splattered onto Lucy's head and ran down her face, causing her to grimace as she blindly wiped it away. Well, she supposed she deserved some sort of karma...
"This is borderline terrorizing students at this point," she muttered. She shouldn't feel good about any of this at all. But... in a way, the commotion around her filled her with her favorite kind of adrenaline. She was glad that no one could see her smiling. "Keep track of the time, will you, Tom? I know you said you wouldn't help, but—"
"I think I can manage being your pocket watch," he mused.
She made her way back to Anthony now that she knew just exactly what the spell was. She also told the fog not to harm anyone, even though Flint's pain was always hilarious to her. The red flashes still unsettled everyone, and paired with the deafening fireworks above the Great Hall, it was nearly impossible to string together a coherent thought.
"As if this year couldn't get any worse!" Ernie groaned.
"We could all die in a horrible accident," Lucy said helpfully. "That would make it worse."
He was quiet for a few moments, and then he admitted, "Well, that is true. That'd definitely make it a lot worse."
She was filled with optimistic wisdom.
It was another ten minutes before she ordered the fog to disappear entirely. All the while, Tom kept her up to date on what everyone else in the Great Hall was doing. Hermione sent a spell at the door to freeze it shut. The professors likely could have managed to open it if they tried, but they were all working together at the stage to try and dispel the mysterious fog. Even Dumbledore couldn't manage it, Tom told her, and that sure as heck gave her a nervous feeling. What would he think, if a spell occurred that he couldn't get rid of? Especially given everything that'd happened throughout the year.
She wanted a huge distraction, and she got it.
She just really hoped she wouldn't get expelled for it.
As the fog disappeared into itself, Lucy noticed a few startling details. One: the students inside the Great Hall were covered in various colors of slime. Two: the students she suspected screamed the most were all drenched in sweat, shaking in their seats. Even the braver ones, notably a few Gryffindors, shakily looked around for comfort. Tom was right. His darkness wasn't merely something to be feared— it was something that demanded it.
Slowly, she wiped a glob of blue slime from her forehead. She vaguely noted that it went well with her new hair color.
"That," she said in a hushed voice, "was interesting, to say the least."
She looked over to Anthony, and she was shocked to see that Daisy had her arm wrapped tightly around him, and she was dabbing at his bleeding cheek with a napkin. The mist had burnt him, indeed— he had a cut on his cheek that was slightly seared at the ends. Lucy had to stop herself from blurting out an apology as soon as she saw it.
I'll make it up to him, she promised herself fiercely. Even if it took her years, she would find a way. He shouldn't have been punished for taking care of the others.
Although, the small smile on his face as Daisy tended to his injury told Lucy that he might have gotten a small reward already.
"Interesting indeed," Anthony echoed. He glanced at the other younger students. They were all intact, if a bit startled from the entire event.
Dumbledore's amplified voice filled the Great Hall. Lucy looked over to him as normally as she could, and thankfully, he wasn't looking in her direction. Had she gotten away with it after all...? It seemed impossible.
"We will be conducting a thorough investigation," Dumbledore said quietly. He too had green slime on his robes. He'd experienced the debris of various pranks before, but he didn't hold the humorous gleam in his eyes as he had previously. Now, his piercing blue eyes looked anything but welcoming. "I don't mean to alarm you, but there is a good chance Dark Magic has been at play. Students are to follow prefects back to their dormitories— classes are dismissed for the rest of the day."
Lucy didn't dare to look in Fred's direction, in case the Headmaster was secretly looking at her after all. It was presumptuous of her to be so paranoid, but it was way better to be safe than sorry. If she was expelled from Hogwarts, then she'd have nothing. She rearranged her expression to appear concerned, her brow furrowed.
She followed Anthony back to the common room. She darted into her dormitory, closing and locking the door behind there— lo and behold, Ford was waiting on her floor, coiled around a dusty old pile of papers. Her heart was hammering in her chest. There was no way that actually worked! She was half terrified, half overjoyed. She had just stolen from Albus freaking Dumbledore! And gotten away with it!
"Ford! You're wonderful, absolutely wonderful!" Lucy beamed, gently picking the snake up. She could hardly believe there'd ever been a time where she thought these adorable little serpents were frightening.
He let out a happy hiss, coiling up her arm and nuzzling his face in her neck. "Can we do it again, boss? That was the most fun I've had in ages!"
"When something comes up, you'll be the first to know," she laughed. She plopped herself down on the ground, picking the records up. She flipped through them, and sure enough, it was a detailed account of Rubeus Hagrid's expulsion.
She recognized the elegant script of Tom's handwriting, giving a detailed account of how he apprehended the half-giant. Apparently, he'd caught wind of Hagrid's pet before he confronted him— a detail even Lucy didn't know— but it wasn't until the death of the student that he decided to turn him in. Tom noted that he 'deeply regrets giving Hagrid a chance, and would give anything to have reported Hagrid sooner'.
"Wow, you were a total snitch," Lucy said without any real spite.
Tom was grinning as he sat atop her bed, looking down at her. "There's no honor in snakes for the likes of lions," he shrugged. "Are you satisfied now that you finally have your proof?"
"Yes! My God, having the task of stealing from Dumbledore looming over my head was killing me! I could sing right now."
"Will you really?"
"No, I haven't warmed up."
She hugged the records to her chest and collapsed backward onto the wooden floor, grinning stupidly at the ceiling. All the tension released from her body. That entire fiasco had been utterly chaotic and idiotic, but it was over, and she'd succeeded. She felt a rush of gratitude for her friends— how lucky was she to have people who would help her steal from the Headmaster?
"Now my friends and I can go ask Hagrid about everything, and then he'll tell us he's innocent but give us vital information about the Heir, and then we'll find the Heir, then beat whoever's trying to kill me, and then we'll all live happily ever after and get ice cream or something!"
If Tom thought she was being too optimistic, he kindly didn't say so. He chuckled at the dazed look on her face. "Before you get too ahead of yourself, I think you should wash the slime off you— and then I'll help you cover your tracks."
"I thought you weren't going to help me?" Lucy sat up and arched an eyebrow at him.
He smiled. "Not with the plan itself. Now that I can see it utterly fail, I'd like to keep it that way. I am rather proud of you, Lucy— this was sort of a test, to see if you were capable of working without me."
If she wasn't so pleased right now, she might have been more offended by that. She'd managed to survive eleven years without Tom and loads of crazy situations— she could easily survive one more. Still, she smiled back at her friend.
"You're a regular Mary Poppins," she told him.
"Don't ruin the moment. Nevermind— it's ruined. Go wash up, okay? The faster we work the better."
Lucy laughed at the grimace on his face, presumably from him imagining himself in Mary Poppins's place.
It was almost agony waiting for morning to arrive. She was too excited to sleep, and yet she didn't have anything else to do— Tom helped her cover up her tracks. He cloaked her wand in a way that if checked, wouldn't reveal her spell history containing any unrecognizable spells such as the ones in Riddle's Book. Then he had her hide her stolen records in her satchel.
For the rest of the night, she let Tom make her practice any spells he wanted to, just because she was in such a good mood. She didn't even remember falling asleep but she woke up in her bed the next morning, her wand laying innocently at her nightstand.
She ambushed her friends as soon as they stepped foot out of the Gryffindor portrait. Other students, like Neville and Dean, shot her peculiar looks as she dragged them around the corner. She led them to an empty classroom, where she closed and locked the door behind her.
Sometimes it was really handy living in such a big castle. It meant there were loads of empty rooms to hide in. And commit various crimes in.
"Lucy, what was that spell?!" Hermione blurted as soon as she had the chance.
Ron nodded in agreement, looking awed. "Everyone was talking about it— how'd you blind everyone? Even Dumbledore's investigating it!"
"Which is really serious!" Hermione added.
"I read it in a book somewhere," Lucy said, putting on a sheepish face. "I, uh, guess I didn't read it as thoroughly as I thought I did..."
Not technically a lie. Tom's descriptions weren't as telling as she thought they'd be.
"Wish I could've been there," Ron muttered. He looked slightly envious that he'd missed out on it.
"It was best that you didn't. Everyone was scared. All the teachers were furious," Hermione stressed. "I've never seen Dumbledore look so serious... Lucy, what if he finds out you were involved?"
"He won't, if we all act natural," Lucy insisted. She wasn't sure if that method would hold up for herself alone, but as long as her friends didn't behave strangely, there was a change Dumbledore would leave her alone, or at least not investigate her as thoroughly.
Harry, however, didn't care much about Lucy's methods. He looked anxiously toward her. "Did you get it, then? Did your snake actually—?"
She couldn't dream of holding back her grin. Proudly, she grabbed the records out of her bag. Then she remembered who they were about, and she grimaced. Right... her friends wouldn't take this well at all... She internally cursed her stupidity.
"You won't like it," Lucy warned them, holding the records to her chest. "And you might not believe it— but I can assure you it's all true."
Finally, she handed the records to Harry.
Hermione and Ron read over his shoulders. At first, the documents didn't entail much. The first page described the list of victims. Frustratingly, it didn't include the name of the student who had been killed— in a footnote, it mentioned the 'parents of the victims wished to remain anonymous' in case the attacker went for them as well. Lucy felt bad for whoever it was. Not only had the person died, but their own parents wanted to keep anyone from knowing...
In the next page, of course, it showed a photo of Rubeus Hagrid. Next to it, it had his forms of expulsion.
"No..." Harry whispered, his eyes wide. Hermione shook her head in disbelief, while Ron's face went pale white.
"You're sure these are—?" Ron began.
"They're real, Ron," Lucy insisted. "Read To— Riddle's account on the next page. It's all very detailed..."
It was clear that they didn't want to, but Harry eventually turned the page. She noticed how quiet they were as they read the many pages of Tom's handwriting. They looked captivated, and she could understand why. Tom had an incredible way with words. Even when she had simply written to him in the diary, she never got tired of hearing what he had to say. Reading his words in Riddle's Book was almost addicting. Even in mere glimpses of his existence, it was utterly obvious to her that there was only one Tom Riddle in the world— and those fortunate enough to meet him would understand the impact.
She didn't know what she was more nervous of. Revealing Hagrid's expulsion, or letting her friends in on a piece of Tom. She held him, and his secrets, incredibly close to her. While they didn't know it, showing them Tom's writing was almost as sacred as letting them into Wool's Orphanage.
Tom stood next to her, eyeing the reactions of her friends as well. He wasn't anxious like Lucy was. Rather, he was curious. It'd been awhile since that many people knew of his accomplishments.
"Riddle could have been mistaken..." Hermione said slowly, after they'd finished going through the documents. "It could have been another monster—"
"How many monsters can this place hold?" Ron interrupted.
"A troll and a Cerberus is about all I can recall," Lucy mentioned. Ron shot her a look that told her he didn't appreciate the remark.
Harry looked miserably up at them all. "We always knew Hagrid had been expelled."
"And To- Riddle's gotten a Special Service to the School award," Lucy added, trying not to sound proud. She scolded herself for constantly slipping up on his name. She wasn't supposed to have been acquainted with him.
Ron scowled, closing the file of records entirely. "Riddle sounds like Percy," he said crossly. "Who asked him to squeal on Hagrid, anyway? Bloody git. Where does he get off on sticking his nose in other peoples' business? And he's a slimy Slytherin, you'd think he'd have been overjoyed."
Tom immediately looked annoyed, but it was nothing compared to the sudden flare of anger that pulsated in Lucy's mind.
"No he's not," she snapped harshly.
Her friends all turned to her, shocked.
She struggled to shove down the fury that'd just overtaken her, but it was really hard. She had to remind herself that Ron was just upset. Hagrid was all of their friends, after all, and he didn't know Tom...
"I mean... Tom Riddle went to my orphanage, Ron," Lucy said, struggling to play off her sudden anger.
"Really?" Harry said, surprised. "How do you know?"
"Mrs. Cole used to talk about him all the time— said I reminded her of him." She was completely telling the truth now; she'd often been subjected to anecdotes of the terrible Riddle boy. "He has an award here, too. Special Services to the School award. He was Head Boy, perfect, valedictorian... And if you look at that picture of him he was incredibly handsome."
Ron and Harry pulled a face, while Hermione glanced at the photo again.
"Agreed," Hermione said simply.
Tom held back a smirk as he stared at Lucy. "Quit bragging, you're making me embarrassed," he jested.
She desperately fought back a grin. She couldn't help it. She was proud of her friend, dammit!
"Anyway, he would have gone back to Wool's, so I don't blame him for stepping in before the school closed. I would, if it meant staying at Hogwarts," she asserted. She wouldn't if it was one of her close friends, but if it was a random person from a different house, she wouldn't hesitate in turning them in if they had a dangerous pet that might've killed someone. She liked Hagrid, she really did, but having monsters for pets was not a good idea. Even if someone hadn't been killed, she expected he would have been expelled anyway for being caught with a monster like that.
Harry considered her words, and he nodded his head after a short silence. "I can understand Riddle," he agreed, although he still looked reluctant. "I wouldn't want to go back to the Dursleys either..."
If Ron disagreed, he didn't voice it. Lucy's wrath was scary.
Hermione was the first to ask the question nobody wanted to bring up. "Well... do you think we should go and ask Hagrid about it all?"
Lucy had daydreamed of doing that exact same thing, but now that she was confronted with it, she didn't want to. Hagrid was so kind, it seemed impossible that he would ever do something like that. Plus, she didn't want to upset him by bringing it up... She wouldn't know how to broach the subject.
"That'd be a cheerful visit," Ron said sarcastically. "'Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?'"
They were quiet for a moment. Then, Harry spoke up, deciding for them.
"We'll wait," he determined. "If there's another attack, we'll ask Hagrid about it— but there hasn't been one in awhile... Who knows, maybe we might not even have to mention it..."
Lucy turned somewhat hopeful at the thought. They only had a few months left— which sucked, but also, it meant there was less time for Hogwarts to close. In the end, they agreed with Harry. They would keep it to themselves, for now.
In the meantime, she had to try not to get herself expelled.