Mildew Floweret

Lucille recalled the bustling platform teeming with children bidding tearful farewells to their mothers.  They found themselves alone in a compartment, where she watched him, pale and weary, resting his head against the window.

Remus was leaning over her as she was searching for an empty compartment. Hearing her gasping for air as she was struggling to carry his trunk, he panted, ill-diposed, “I can carry my own luggage.”

Lucille glanced at his pale face, “Not right now. You could, should you left behind all the odd creatures you had hidden in the attic, you know, where I’m not allowed to go? Anyway,” she read the printed letters, “‛R. J. Lupin’. Professor Lupin, is that how I’m supposed to call you from now on?”

“New Quibbler edition at but one fourth of a Sickle!” a shorter blonde girl uttered with an oddly thin voice, as she’d just cut their way, “Would you like one?”

Remarking that she’d almost convinced Remus into buying one, Lucille intervened, “Perhaps another time. When we can afford it and when his mind is clear enough to purchase affordable stuff. ”

They found themselves alone in a compartment, where she watched him, pale and weary, resting his head against the window. Lucille  returned outside to fetch her own trunk, and after she had lifted it, she was not very keen by the sight of a short girl with round face and think, dark eyebrows.

“Look who it is,” Pansy Parkinson said to her friend, Millicent, a wide and muscular girl, “Lucifer. Now pimply, as well. I have to say it is a surprise they let him in again,” Millicent grinned wickedly.

“Well, in that case, he is going to kick your arse if you keep standing in his way. Move.”

Millicent flexed her muscles. Having such a grandious friend as her would make Pansy think she’s invincible, and she seemed quite surprised by Lucille’s indifferent response.

“I would like seeing you try. Though I have the feeling you are not very good with your wand,” she said evilly. “What are you going to do? Fight me, like the ugly boy you are?” Millicent bursted out laughing.

“Everything all right, ladies?” asked the Head Boy of Slytherin, “Let’s not create a scene right now, will you?” (“Hmmph!” said Lucille before returning into the train.)

Remus’ face was penetrated with few premature wrinkles, as well as his dark blonde hair flecked with gray. In spite of being extremely shabby and patched here-and-there, it may had not seem like it, but he was wearing his best clothes.

Her eyes were filled with joy at the sight of two friendly faces by the train. The identical boys with carrot-top hair were following their older brother and immitating his walk for amusement, who kept his chin up and excellent posture, showing off his Head Boy badge proudly. Fred made a gesture with his forehead in order to invite her outside as soon as he’d remarked her; she glanced at the snoring man and shrugged helplessly.

“Dad,” she shook his shoulder as an attempt to wake him up, “The Weasley twins are outside! D’you mind if I join them?”

“M-hmm...” was what he said before carrying on with his snoring. Lucille took it as an approval.

As she was descending to meet her troublemaker matches, Mrs. Weasley was checking on her children, her only daughter being irritated by it. Ginny was known by the entire Hogwarts for opening the Chamber of Secrets last year, letting an enormous  monster wander the school and petrify students.

Behind another red-haired boy and a girl with braces, holding a ginger cat, she caught the glimpse of another boy her age. He was thin and tall, his hands deep into his jeans pockets, wearing a checkered shirt three sides too large. He ran a hand through his dark hair, rolling  his eyes at once he saw who the Weasley twins were with; she eyed him back with every sign of dislike.

"So you’re Miss Lucille," Arthur Weasley said, his smile widening below his glasses, "Fred and George have told us all about you and your advantageous contribution to their prank.”

”They have really told you everything, I see,” Lucille eyed the twins sternly while forcing out a smile. They were going to pay for it. ”Yes, I am that Lucille. Nice to meet you.”

"It was our greatest prank, it would be unfair not to give you credit for it," Fred said as an attempt to fix it.

"Good prank, that is," muttered Molly, visibly offended. "We have received a letter from Minerva saying that you will be expelled if you continue to misbehave. Should you not come to your senses, I shall forbide you from stepping another toe in Hogwarts. There’s plenty housework to do anyway.”

"Relax, Mommy," said George, sheepishly.

"That's what she tells us every year," Fred whispered. ”Fancy a candy?” he handed her a colourful lollypop.

”Dad can’t have recieved a letter from McGonagall,” Lucille lowered her voice anxiously, ”I haven’t seen another owl by.”

”That’s because the elves had failed to see you, remember?” George explained, ”At least one of us will be still welcomed in the kitchens.”

Fred and George walked a few steps away from their family, ”We’ll have plenty of fun this year, as it’s not illegal taking you along to Hogsmeade.”

“Dunno, I had the time of my life doing it in the forbidden way,” she winked.

“You haven’t touched your candy,” said Fred suspiciously.

The two identical boys were watching her with such intensity, as she pretended taking it to her lips, but she stopped, ”Ha! Believe yourselves capable of outsmarting a Ravenclaw?”

”Ahem!” Lucille heard Granger say from few steps away.

”What’s up, Granger? Still upset ´bout the toylet thing?”

Her and her friends were eying her with disrespect. ”You know what you did, it was very vile, even from you!” she cried.

”Isn’t she the one who had told the whole school you were spending you evenings in the locked bathroom with Harry and Ron?” said Ginny suddenly, whilst her mother’s eyes widened.

She bit her tongue. Isn’t she the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets? would be what Lucille’d say if her family weren’t there.

Potter and Ron Weasley were watching in silence, until Potter sighed and opened his mouth, ”The one and only. Are you looking forward to ruining this day as well, Lupin?”

“No need to get snarky. And for the hundredth time, I didn’t do it! Just so you know, I wasn’t the only one there when Moaning Myrtle was talking about this.”

Potter folded his arms, his chin was fine and well-defined, and his skin that odd bright colour while her skin had been burnt and weathered by sun. “Then I reckon it weren’t you who’s transfigurated me into a toad?” – “Didn’t notice you took the cup I was supposed to charm.” – “And when you cased my head into a pumpkin?” – “Ah, that was well-deserved! You called me a boy, again!” –  “You trapped Ron inside a large bubble.” – “That was for Pansy Parkinson. He was just standing in front of my wand.” – “What about when you--“

”Stop, stop, stop,” Fred and George intervened, ”Come on, ladies. Don’t fight in the first day of school. Why can’t you just let the past behind?”

Hogwarts Express was emaning thick gray smoke, whistling. Potter and Granger moved forward in avoidance; he tripped her in the very first corridor of the train, after which he looked back and grinned. Evil twat, said Lucille under her breath to the boy who had then vanished away through other students, who gathered as a flock of sheep.

Lucille had never been  found of him. Everyone had been speaking about him with such excitement, wanted his autograph, befriended him for his notoriety. Her father was under the same opinion, regarding him as a hero escaped from a fairytale. But under that veil of fame, Lucille could see he was nothing but an average boy that didn’t exceed in school. How could a boy who had almost failed History of Magic sput an end to a war?

Enlighted with countless floating candles and silver ghosts, returning to the Hall felt as returning home after a long journey. Lucille took a seat below the mighty blue banner of Ravenclaw. On her way there, she had greeted the older students, ‟Oi, Abberley!Nice scarf, Lutterworth!” and then her classmates, ‟How was Summer, MacDougal? Nice to see you too, Turpin!” and waved at Michael Corner, which was intrigued in a conversation with Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot.

‟Make room,‟ said Padma Patil, her dearest friend, after a stifling friendly embrace, while Professor McGonagall announced the usual ceremony of sorting.

The sorting hat had composed its new song; it was way more pleasing watching it rather than experiencing it.

”Your hair!” Padma swirled a finger through one of her curls, ”It’s lovely!”

It had grown over the Summer till it reached her shoulders; Lucille let it a bit longer, to fit in with the other girls, as before it used to be very short, though at the moment it looked more as a lion’s mane. ”Cheers,” Lucille said enthusiastically.

”Now you can say she’s a lady,” as Michael Corner remarked, Lucille snuck her tongue out at him.

Dumbledore insisted with his usual speech, announcing the new teachers, Hagrid and Remus; Lucille’s heart pleaded with joy, proud to see her father finally with a proper job, she’d want to scream ´That’s my father!’

“Dumbledore  has visited over the Summer,” Lucille concluded for Padma, ”And that’s how my father got hired.”

”Hopefully he’ll have a better fate than the former Dark Arts teachers,” Sue Li said with quiet empathy, to which MacDougal added, ”Oi, don’t jinx it!”

”How’s it like being a third year?” questioned Michael Corner, making room for himself between the two girls.

”We’ll see,” Lucille smiled with a corner, ”Very much fun, I expect.”

”Not even a class of Divination in and already predicting?”

”My senses never fail me, what can I say?” she joked in friendly fashion.

Her favourite part of the Headmaster’s speech was when it ended and the golden plates would be filled with endless meals.

"He is quite awfully adorable," Padma’s pupils dilated as Cedric Diggory passed, lending a note to Cho Chang, whilst her friend, Marietta Edgecombe giggled in flirtatious way. "I wonder how his hair feels like," she said dreamily, resting her chin on her hands as Lucille was trying her best not to laugh and ruin her fantasy.

"I bet it’s fluffy," said Lucille, covering her mouth with her free hand.

"Rumours say we’re getting new chaser this year," said Michael with burgeoning excitement whilst Terry Boot and Oliver Rivers half-covered their mouth while laughing. He had been the one to teach her everything she knew about playing Quidditch.

"Who?" Padma asked cluelessly, slightly upset with his presence.

Corner pointed with his head towards Lucille, and she nodded graciously. "Your broomstick better be ready.”

"Bet yours is," she replied, her mouth filled with chicken, "mister already keeper. Did not get in last year, might as well not get in this year."

"Don’t be so pessimistic about it! It was the school brooms, I mean it! You are actually truely talented – I bet you will get in at once! Have you been practicing over Summer?"

"Yeah, if you mean mentally.” School broomsticks were forbidden to be taken home. ”Doubt so," she said hopelessly. "Cho Chang was not accepted in either, and she is way more talented than me."

"Mind you, her older brother is a professional Quidditch player. She has been practicing all her life, and you, for how many years again?" He pretended to count his fingers, "One, two!"

"My point is," she explained, "if Cho did not manage to get into the team, I might not as well. As long as Rudolph Burrow is still captain, at least, I have no chance."

"So that’s what bothers you?" he asked with simple directness.

"Er, yes. His mates, too." She glanced at the staff’s table, noticing that Remus was having agreat time chatting with Professor McGonagall. "Them and their stupid concept that us girls can not play Quidditch. Wonder why we never win the House Cup! Not that I truly care about that Cup, McGonagall and Snape would never allow Flitwick getting hold of it...”

"If that’s what pains you," he said after a moment’s reflection, "Burrow, I think I can do something about it. My keeper privilege, you know?" He winked. His eyes were a little too large and blue – he seemed to be staring into her soul when he’d simply look at her.

"You’d do that for me?"

"Yeah, why not? From whom else would I get all my homework?" he teased.

She punched his shoulder in a friendly manner. "Ha, ha. Nice try.(‟Auch!‟)”

“Hello!” said the same girl that was selling magazines back into the train, as the dessert was being served, “May I sit here with you, Lucille?”

Padma Patil certainly did not want that. “Hi,” Lucille was ignoring Padma, “Erm, if you wish,” and stepped aside, for the blonde girl with large eyes to sit between them.

“Surely you don’t wish to sit next to the other secondyears, possibly socialising with children your own age?” Lisa Turpin said with firm persistence, slightly disturbed by her.

“I’m fine here, thanks,” Luna smiled, bouncing her legs. “Oh wow, there is chocolate pudding! I love pudding!”

Lucille smiled back faintly, with a sense of guilt, whilst Padma motioned at her, meaning, ‛What is she doing here?’ Since then, Lucille tried to avoid Padma’s eyes.

“So, Luna,” she tried to start a conversation, “How many magazines did you sell?”

“Few,” chocolate was all over her mouth, “Though I am glad I have met you again.”

“But I didn’t buy one,” she sounded slightly brittle.

“I know, but you were being nice about it,” said Luna, kindly. “You have always been nice. I was hoping I’d be in the same house as you. Dad was certain as well that I’d be a Ravenclaw.”

“Really? Who’s your father?” Oliver Rivers asked in curious table, from the other side of the table.

“Xenophilius Lovegood,” Luna said in graceful simplicity, “May you know him, he’s the editor of Quibbler.”

The other boys burst in laughter. Luna Lovegood did not seem affected, perhaps owing to her naitivity or so Lucille was thinking. Anthony Goldstein lowered his voice, though everyone could hear him with no difficulties, “Doesn’t that magazine promote all that nonsense?” and Oliver nodded.

Subsequently they finished eating, Luna unpacked a bag with green stuff in as if it were grass. They were apparently nicely braided into bracelets. “I have been making these all Summer, friendship bracelets! One for everyone,” she started sharing them, yet everyone eyed her strangely, “Nargles will mean no harm if you wear them.” Sue Li and Marietta Edgecombe were holding theirs with a napkin.

Lucille was inspecting the bracelet. “What exactly are these Nagles, Luna?”

“Evil little creatures,” she explained,  meaning the words more seriously than they sounded. “They are the spirits of dead pixies, which will steal your belongings, hide them, or even worse...”

“No thanks,” said Michael Corner as he was offered one, but Lucille was feeling genuinely bad and stepped on his foot. “Auch—er, thanks, those nargles will never know what beat them.”

“Have you tried offering them to the firsties?” Sue Li asked irritably.

“I had talked with them, turns out we don’t have much in common,” Luna replied gently.

Not long after Luna Lovegood’s departure, the Ravenclaws begun chattering. “The bloody hell is a Nargle?” – “Certainly she’s made that up, they’re clearly not real.”

“Under no circumstance I will wear this,” MacDougal was levitating her green bracelet with her wand.

Lisa Turpin was not very impressed by her either, “Have you seen the way she talks?”

“How come you two get along?” Padma asked after a moment’s reflection.

Lucille shrugged, “Come on now, you’re still my very best friend. She’s, I don’t know, she’s friendly and – erm, pretty, you see.”

“Pretty mad, if you ask me,” added Oliver Rivers, now in the spotlight, “Dad knows Xenophilius – says he’s gone lunatic, just brings out of his mouth nonsense and sustains the existence of weird creatures – just like his daughter, I see. Thought he was making it up to sell his magazines, turns out they truely believe in them.”

Lucille remained silent. The Great Hall was emptying, phantoms vanishing into thin air, portraits yawning and making themselves comfortable for napping, and Lucille joined her father by the long table. He was having a great time socialising with Flitwick and Madam Pomfrey. Professor Snape narrowed his eyes at the sight of both Lupins at one place.

Filius Flitwick, the Charms master and the head of the Ravenclaw House was asked by Lucille's father about her behaviour at school. "She’s quite skilled in Herbology and Astronomy, and knows how to behave herself, in the absence of external provocation. Though at times she tends to step out of line with Fred and George Weasley.”

“She does nave a nose for trouble,” agreed Remus whilst Lucille smiled sheepishly.

“We have an empty spot in the Frog choir for her, should she be interested,” the short professor added. Lucille was certain he found the opportunity and took it, as it was not many’s desire to take part in that chor and be the target of jokes all year.

“Absolutely,” as Remus gave his word, Lucille covered her face with her palms. “She used to sing all the time when she was little.”

“What a keen observation,” Lucille folded her arms, “But what about Quidditch?”

“Do not worry, dear, I will make sure they will not interfere,” Madam Hooch giggled.

The girl waited till her father was let alone by other staff, “Why’d you say that, dad?”

“Say what?”

“That I willabsolutely sing in the choir! I would very much rather do anything but that! Do you know how hard I’ve been trying to be liked by others?”

"What else could I say? He's asked me, he looked serious. You can just choose another instrument, or sing with your voice."

"I must remind you, Miss Lupin, that this is the Professors' table." Severus Snape had bothered to step near them.

"Severus," Remus nodded in greetments. "Long time no see."

Lucille looked at the two men, puzzled, “You know eachother?”

“Yes,” answered Remus, “I have had the pleasure to attend Hogwarts in the same year as he. In different houses, obviously.”

"I can tell the full moon was rough on you, Lupin," he was analyzing Remus from head to toe. "However, Dumbledore has asked me to prepare the Wolfsbane potion."

“He’s asked you?”

"Preparing such complicated potion requires talent, and some proper hands." Professor Snape said, confidently. "Otherwise, terrible consequences could happen."

Remus stood quiet for a moment, "If that's so, I'm glad Dumbledore  has found one such skilled." Lucille was amazed by her father’s unexpected temper, providing that if being in his shoes, she would’ve snapped right away.

As he left, Lucille askedher father, “Turns out you weren’t best friends back then,” he laughed at that, “His behaviour with me is no longer a mistery. Anyway, I’m looking forward to the defense against the dark arts lessons, dad, or shall I call you Professor Lupin?” he patted her shoulder, amused, then his eyes were fixating elsewhere.

”Harry! How are you feeling?” He grabbed her by her arm, ”Let me introduce you two.”

Lucille pulled her arm away, ”I already know him, dad, the whole school does,” she folded her arms. “Look, you can ask him for his autograph now,” she turned to Potter, ”He is your greatest fan. All he talks about is you, believe me.”

Harry Potter stopped, his face dropping as if he’d just received a very painful punch, ”He’s—she’s—yeah, of course...”

”So you two already met, I see?” Lucille asked without sounding unduly curious.

”On the train,” said Ron Weasley, ”If it hadn’t been him there, that dementor would have finished us off.”

Remus laughed kindly, ”It was nothing special, really. A simple Patronus charm. Now off to bed, all of you.”

Lucille joined the crownd of children eager to reach the Ravenclaw Tower. The not-so-nice thing about being a Ravenclaw were the hundreds of stairs to climb. The more than not-so-nice thing was when one’d successfully reach the first floor and remember he’d forgotten something. But after climbing the endless stairs – great workout, in her opinion – Lucille and the fellow Ravenclaws reached the great bronze statue of an eagle with it’s wings wide in the air – the knocker.

"In order enter our Common Room," Penelope Clearwater, the Head Girl of Ravenclaw was telling the first years, "what you have to do is give the correct answer to the riddle that is given by the knocker. Remember, should you guess wrong, the only thing to do is wait for a different person to answer correctly."

The bronze eagle moved his head, and said in a deep, growl voice, "What can fill a room but takes up no space?"

Shortly, Penelope answered, "Light."

"Well answered. You may pass."

The door swung open to reveal the interior: high ceilings adorned with enchanted paintings that whispered tales of ancient wizards and mythical creatures. The common room overlooked the grand lake, its waters shimmering under the moonlight, offering a serene and breathtaking view.

Lucille ascended to her dormitory, shared with four other girls, Padma Patil, Sue Li, Morag MacDougal and Lisa Turpin. The room was cozy yet elegant, each bed adorned with curtains in Ravenclaw blue and silver. Books and quills lay scattered on desks, and magical trinkets twinkled on bedside tables, imbuing the room with a sense of scholarly enchantment and camaraderie among housemates.

At dawn. ne by one, the girls descended to an aggitating atmosphere: Professor Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw House wasted no time to announce the Frog Choir auditions; Rudolph Burrow and Orland Abberley were fighting upon which poster, the one about Quidditch or Wizarding Chess would be posted on the highest board; Orla Quirke who was in possession of the most melodious voice was intruded while hanging out posters by Roberta Lutterworth, the responsible girl for Ravenclaw books, cleanliness and quietness, for the reason of silence perturbance and chaos attempt, for the Common Room contained a mightly library on its own, the reason why Ravenclaws rarely descended to Hogwarts Library.

 ‟You seriously have to to stick your silly posters of slimy toads next to the most significat and ancient artefact of this house?’

”Professor Flitwick’s orders. S’not like we don’t see the artefact ten times a day!”

”Your actions are misleading the first years. As if anyone new would like to join yo silly choir! We all know it’s social suicide.”

”I would think so, with your voice, perhaps not anyone can sing like me.” Olra ran a hand through her golden hair while Roberta was loosing her temper.

"Bet I’ll sign myself into the choir, should you not make it into the team," said Michael, jokingly, buttering his toast.

"I’d fail intentionally, only to see you doing that," she answered, as Flitwick handed course schedules to the entire Ravenclaw table. “At least that way I’d enjoy something about the choir.”

“Are you seriously planning to sing?”

“That’s what I told my father. But no, I won’t.” Lucille was watching Padma eat her breakfast joyfully, “Why so happy for?”

“Mail must arrive in any moment, mum said she’ll send me mithai." This made Lucille smile widely; Mrs Patil knew to pack a considerable amount of Indian sweets enough for the entire house.

"That’s lovely," she started inspecting the timetable. "Ughh, History of Magic with Gryffindor, perfect.”

"Look, DADA classes with R. J. Lupin," Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot joined from the table of Hufflepuff – Susan was the same, a short redhead, ocasionally arranging her hair while talking about everyone’s bussiness, and Hannah, her little innocent friend who would follow her anywhere. Lucille has learnt fast that what’s best is to be her friend than her enemy.

Lucille simply smiled. Perhaps she’d go away.

 "Can’t believe Summer is over! It lasted but a second, I swear!" Bones took a seat, taking a bite from Lucille’s pie. Lucille and Michael exchanged a confused glare. "Though I said we’d go in Thailand to Flying Seahorses riding, guess what! Dad took us in bloody Hungary because he had been driving a hard bargain for a Swedish Short-Snout there. Imagine that, for an entire week we were surrounded by such extremely dangerous creatures."

"Ohh, I feel terribly sorry. That must have been such an awful experience," Lucille sounded unusually high pitched and Padma snorted in her cup.

"You tell me! Eventually dad felt bad for cancelling that trip so instead of riding seahorses, I’ve got to ride dragons, so I suppose it wasn’t that bad," Susan shrugged dramatically. "So what did you do this Summer?" Susan Bones would unquestionably look down on her if she’d hear about her Summer activities. Fortunately, the classes were about to start.

The Divination class turned out to be out of Lucille’s expectations. Sybill Trelawney was Fortunatedly, it did not require a great deal of wand magic, the reason why Lucille developed pleasure in attending it.

”I was told to avoid a redhead,” Padma complained, glaring anxiously at Ron Weasley, the boy abundantly covered in freckles—he looked a lot like Fred and George, but he seemed to be the only one blessed with a great height.

Ron Weasley turned to Padma from a few seats away, ”Oi, there’s plenty of redheads at this school. What did I do?”

Lucille and Padma started giggling, ”There’s a bunch of you Weasleys, we all know that!”

He narrowed his eyes. He and his lot would not be so delighted with that class; Hermione Granger, a bushy haired girl with warm skin and Harry Potter, who had been just announced that he had the omen of death. Lucille saw them being dissappointed during the whole time Trelawney was lecturing, and felt pityful, as she seemed a very kind woman.

The class had been quickly dissmissed. ”Abbott has invited us to join her and Bones by the lake,” Padma lowered her tone to a whisper, ”Cedric is said to be there as well.”

 ”Really? Erm—I’ve promised Fred and George I would help them with—you know, homework,” Lucille said, though aware Padma was not so easy to be fooled.

Padma rolled her eyes while putting the bag on her shoulders, ”Homework, ahem!”

”You go, and tell me everything afterwards.”

Hurrying to catch up with her friends, Granger had accidentally bumped into Lucille, her bushy hair jumping before her. ”I reckon Sybill is not on her right minds. Don’t frighten, Harry, you are not going to die, that was a donkey sooner than the Grim.”

”It looked like a Grim to me,” Lucille shrugged, conscious that’d make matters worse. ”But it might be that you’re better at reading than Professor Trelawney herself.”

Potter glared at her with dislike, then looked at Weasley, ”Don’t listen to her!” said Hermione Granger.

”Perhaps you should listen to the teacher, not everyone had been gifted with the Sight, you see,” said Lucille. Infuriating Granger was highly amusing, she would be such an easy target. ”Seems that not everything may be learnt from books.”

‟And you are? Last time I checked, you have barely passed the exams. Right at the bottom of the list with the lowest grades. Honestly, the Ravenclaws are by no means priding themselves on you,” snapped Potter. Lucille watched speechless,though affected. ‟Hopefully this year you will do us all a favour and be expelled.”

”Why don’t you run along with the twins and—and—and blow up the school?” Granger cried.

“What a brilliant idea! Perhaps we’ll start with the Gryffindor Common Room,” Lucille smirked, leaving no room for her offendance.

The Quidditch Team auditions buzzed with excitement. Madam Hooch watched closely to ensure fairness, particularly with Captain Rudolph Burrow, who favored boys. Lucille's heart pounded as she saw Cho Chang, graceful and skilled, securing her spot effortlessly, sparking Lucille's jealousy.

"Next up, Lucille Lupin!" Madam Hooch called.

Determined, Lucille kicked off. She dodged bludgers, her maneuvers less smooth than Cho's but filled with grit. Madam Hooch and Rudolph observed keenly. After a tense performance, Lucille landed, panting.

"Cho Chang, you're in," Madam Hooch announced to applause. "And Lucille Lupin. Welcome to the team."

Lucille, surprised but thrilled, met Cho's polite nod with a mix of admiration and rivalry. She knew she had a lot to prove, but she was ready for the challenge. This was just the beginning.

Subsequently, out of the blue, Lucille was slammed to the ground. A bludger had been hurled her way, likely by Stretton.

"Aww, I don’t know how it went that direction," he and Rudolph eyed eachother, beginning to chuckle. "Reckon you should be more careful, now that you are the new chaser and the whole team depends on you. But if you’re not capable, then you should give up right no –"

"Stretton!" as Hooch rushed at them, the boys’ smiles faded. "It was clearly your fault for this accident. You better apologize to Miss Lupin and help her to the Hospital Wing."

"My apologies, Miss Lupin," Jeremy Stretton pretended. It made her want to strangle him.

"You are fortunate my wand is in the locker room," she said under her breath, her knee joint anywhere but in its place.

The Weasley twins had snuk behind her, helping  Lucille up on her good leg. "Our congratulationes for your new role, from now on you will be sort of our enemy," George begun.

"...and the target of our buldgers," continued Fred continued with their typical twin-speech. "Nice one, LUCY!"

"Cheers," Lucille was standing up on her one fine leg, using the broomstick for balance. "S’pose this was a warm up for what’s coming from you, then."

"C’mon, Lucy. You know we’re only jocking," Fred smiled kindly.

"On Merlin’s beard," George pointed at her leg, "It looks terribly – how are you not bawling your eyes out?"

"S’fine," she started hopping on her way towards the castle, "Poppy will snap her fingers and it will be as good as new."

"Mind the –"

"– puddle..."

The next second she was down to the ground once again, now in a puddle of mud; definitely did not look where she walked. As for the twins, instead of being any help, they begun laughing with tears. Lucille sighed hopelessly. Michael Corner was the only one to her rescue, offering a hand, helping her towards the Hospital Wing.

"Oi! Where are you going?" asked George, as they both calmed down.

"Away!" she answered angrily. Unfortunately everyone was pointing and staring at her, as she was deeply covered in mud, and  her leg shifted backwards.

”I can’t comprehend how you’re able to stand them,” Michael said in rasping tone.

Pansy Parkinson made her way towards them, from her lot – Slytherins, third and fourth years. Her face alone was irritating, aspecting as a frogs’ after a good rain – accompanied by Millicent Bulstrode, a wide and muscly girl as her personal guard. She raised a thin eyebrow, "My, my... I was aware you had extremely limited resources, but possessing pig-like behaviour was utterly out of my knowledge." Her friends were amused and regarded her with laughters.

"Ugh, piss off," though she was not keen on showing it, her leg hurt more than any desire of speaking back to Parkinson.

Madam Pomfrey had sent Michael off before making a bed comfortable for Lucille, prepared her a minty blue drink that healed the pain; her leg had never been in a better state."I’m afraid you will have to spend the night." Poppy said, pouring tea into a cup. "Climbing so many stairs is no good for your frail leg."

Lucille was bored in the hospital wing. A Daily Prophet lay on her nightstand. She never cared for newspapers, thinking they were for posh villagers with too much time and money. With nothing else to do, she skimmed it. Amid articles about goblins and cauldrons, one caught her eye: Sirius Black, the infamous murderer with long dark hair and piercing gray eyes, was on the loose.

”I’ve read that he has been last spotted in London.” Neville Longbottom had remarked what she was lecturing; he was spending his evening at the Hospital Wing as well, after being the target of Draco Malfoy once again.

”I could’ve sworn I’ve just heard you snoring,” Lucille folded the newspaper and put it away. ”I can’t sleep either. The ghosts are being so damn loud.”

”I heard you made it into the team,” he said kindly, ”That’s bloody awesome!” His nightstands were filled with potted plants, which obviously meant a lot to him.

”Thanks,” Lucille tried showing happiness through her smile. ”Trying for a spot in the Quidditch team as well?”

”No,” his voice lowered, ”Grandma won’t let me near a broomstick. Can’t blame her, I’m a public danger on a stick. S’not really my thing, as much as I’d fancy it. You don’t seem very cheerful, though.”

She shrugged, ”Thought it would feel nicer, but now I’m not certain. More as a pressure, I’m telling you! Woah, your plant is shining,” one potted plant was glowing in pink and purple lights.

”It’s called a Puffapod. Sadly I couldn’t bring the Flitterbloom as well...”

Lucille shifted to a corner of her bed, ”what happened?”

”Seamus had forgotten it in our Common Room.”

Lucille’s eyes sparkled, ”Then let’s go and get it.”

”But your leg—”

”It’s completely fine,” she assured him, ”you know Madam Pomfrey. Too bored to sleep anyway. What do you say?”

”Erm—I don’t know. What if they’ll catch us wandering at midnight?”

”They won’t. Let’s keep it between us, I’ve done this many times before. So do you want that Flitterplant or not?”

They were sneaking behind armours, hiding after statues as Mrs Norris walked by, guarding the corridors. “On Merlin’s pants! I forgot the password again!” He started searching through his pockets for a parchment sheet.

“Scurvy cur,” Lucille winked at the amazement in Neville. That cat had eventually sniffed something but they had been long gone in the Gryffindor common room.

”Something tells me you have been here before. Anyway, I think I’m staying here,” said Neville, looking ill, ”My stomach isn’t strong enough for a way back to the Hospital Wing. Please tell Mrs Poppy that I left early.”

‟Andwe were just beginning to have fun!” One small portait unexpectedly collapsed to the floor; the two froze at the thought that someone had waken up, but there was no one. ”It’s all right,” she said, ”It is going to be a long, boring night either way.”

She noticed a slight shimmer—Harry Potter under his cloak. Without thinking, she aimed her wand and whispered, "Petrificus Totalus." Harry froze instantly, falling  with agonizing, floor-shacking crash.. She approached cautiously, heart pounding, and pulled the cloak off him. His helpless expression and emerald eyes sent an unexpected flutter through her chest, a feeling she quickly pushed away.

‟Just as I thought, you and your damn-witted Invisibility Cloak,” she uttered, though being highly jealous of it.“The Bloody hell are you doing here? Don’t you ever sleep?”

He stared at her blankly, unable to even make that stupid glare he’d do at each sight of her. His helpless expression and emerald eyes sent an unexpected shiver through her chest, a feeling she quickly pushed away.  ”Right,” she was towering his unmoving body, unsure how to proceed. ‟Erm, I am supposed to counter-jinx you now, I reckon. Don’t panick, alright?” she bit her lip. ‟Surely it started with Lym, didn’t it?—or Phy something...”

She turned to see Fred and George peering out at her from behind a corner.‟Thank Merlin, you boys, what was the counter spell for Petrificus charm?”

Fortunately, Fred had remembered the spell and he was released in no time. Lucille was holding her wand tightly, in case he’d fight back.

‟Why would you attack the poor boy like that?” George asked, puzzled.

‟He was stalking on me and Nev’!” Lucille slightly raised her voice, ‟How long were you following us?”

Harry rose, anger flashing in his eyes, ‟I wasn’t! Not my fault you think everything’s got to be about you.”

”Says Mr. Look at me everyone! I am the Boy who Lived! Don’t try to deny it!” she crossed her arms, masking her unease.

‟That was a reason to Petrify him, Lucy?” Fred asked, putting a large box on the floor, following with a sigh of relief.

‟Just tried to scare him off, really,” she shrugged innocently.

‟Wait,” Harry Potter’s eyes widened in realisation below his mess of a hair, ‟I think you’d better give me an explanation.”

‟Ha!” Lucille folded her arms, ‟I don’t give explanations, especially not to you.”

”So then you admit you didn’t tell Moaning Myrtle to bring that box of jinxed chocolates in our dorm?” he folded his arms as well.

Lucille widened her eyes. She had previously made a pact with Myrtle to bring the chocolates into the Weasley twins’ dormitory. Obviously, the silly ghost had lost her way and might have accidentally mistook the Weasleys. ”I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“You are a pretty bad liar for a Ravenclaw.”

‟Weren’t those the pumpkin-pie candies we have asked you a sample of?” George suggested.

‟Boys, whose side are you on?” her eyes narrowed. “ Now if you will excuse me, I shall go to bed if you are done blaming me for something I didn’t do,” she walked away a few steps and then turned around, ”So how did you manage to stop the swelling?”

”We did not. Ron has eaten eveything before I arrived, he’s the only one walking round with a pumpkin head, that’s why I’m off to the Hospital Wing.” Lucille giggled as walking away. ”But how did you know? But I never told you the effects—Oi, Lupin!”

The Weasley Twins were on the floor, laughing, ‟Poor Ronniekins!”

Lucille was about to do the same if Potter wouldn’t have threathened her, ‟I am curious about what will Professor Lupin think about this, so you’d better bring the antidote!”

‟There’s no antidote, silly! He’ll turn back in an hour, or so,” she shifted from one foot to the other.

Harry Potter eyed her with mistrust. ”Fine then. You’d better watch  out if you go after my friends again!”

‟Damn, he’s got a little tense,” Lucille told the twins.

Long stripes were flowing from the cardboard box, on which with large letters was written ‛Zonko’s’. She took a look inside, ‟Wait a damn minute! Are you seriously off to pranking without me?”

‟Obviously not. We were going to save you from a dull night,” Fred waggled his eyebrows.

‟Though we reckoned you were angry with us after we sort-of... you know, laughed at you,” George looked down and away.

‟Sorry ‛bout that! But now, faith has brought you on our path, dearest prank partner,” grinned Fred widely.

‟And we have decided to start things with a BOOM!” said George, with a mysterious wink.

The West Tower had been thoroughlly under the attack of Fireworks, where Mrs Norris had been planned to be and undergo a serie of bombardments.

‟Reckon we’d better see her location on the Map,” Lucille glanced sideways, ‟where is it?”

‟We left it in our dorm,” George explained, lighting another one.

‟Why would you do such thing?”

‟Relax, Lucy, after three years of usage we can perfectly do without it, don’t you think?”

‟Way more fun this way!” Fred covered his ears after throwing another one, ‟can’t you feel the adrenaline?”

‟I s’pose,” she said, behind the colourful atmosphere, ‟hopefully we won’t wake up the entire school. Wait, see that?” she pointed towards a furry tail.

‟THERE SHE IS!”

‟ON HER, FRED!” George jumped.

That poor cat started to be barbarically attacked by the three, them laughing evilly and wasted no time on their revenge. About to throw the last one, Lucille had remarked something odd.

‟You, boys, can’t you tell something is weird ‛bout Filch’s kitten? – I mean, just look at her eyes...”

The three of them glanced at eachother, widening their eyes in realisation. ‟RUN!”