Huffily Puffily || Golden Trio

Mirror, Mirror || xlii

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.."