VIII. THE MIND WORKS MYSTERIOUSLY
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❝If you pay a little attention
You will become a dense forest❞
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LUCIA WOULD'VE NEVER EXPECTED HERSELF to sacrifice her well-deserved sleep for someone she just met, but that seem to be the reality after meeting Astoria Greengrass, who slithered into her heart so effortlessly.
It was simply odd to her how easily had she came to attach herself to Astoria, since she hardly knew her until now. Heck, she didn't even knew she existed before this, but as she stayed by her side, listening to her as she vent out her turmoil as much as she want, something about her was just too endearing to the point that it was seemingly difficult for her to part ways with the younger girl until she found herself staying up all night just for her.
Such a lovely girl, completely opposite from most of her peers.
However, after talking to Astoria and telling her about her parents, Lucia couldn't think much about things except for the parents that she hadn't thought of for a while now.
Her parents that sacrificed so much just for her to live.
She pondered over the story of their lives and how different they were, yet was still able to be in love, possessing love like none other. How were they able to love each other even after so many things that happened?
Did her dad love her mum that much that he would leave his family and risk it all? Was Mum the sole reason he made a decision between his family and what he believed was right?
Didn't mum wanted to focus on giving her parents a better life than the life they lived back then through war? How did mum accepted dad's love after months of rejecting him? Why was he even adamant on fancying her in the first place?
There were so many questions that piled up into her mind that she knew she couldn't get answer for. So, all she could do was think of theories for it.
And those theories got too much to the point that when she arrived back in Gryffindor Tower, all she could do was think, abandoning the plan to sleep because she just couldn't. So, she decided to, with much hesitance, take a walk around the castle.
She was at first, scared; she really didn't want to be spotted, but surprisingly not once did that happened. She was fortunate enough to not even come across that snitch, Mrs. Norris, even as she roamed around the place after curfew.
However, as she travelled down the still and empty corridors in the early morning with her schoolbag dragged behind her, and her hair was the most disheveled it had ever been, along with her Gryffindor tie loosened around her collar, she regretted it.
Her regret was too prominent that there was no way for anyone to not notice it.
Perhaps walking around all night without anything to do wasn't such a good idea as she thought it would be...
She was used to having to stay up all night, but never did she go walking around the whole school grounds at that. Her appearance was disheveled, and her tired eyes may even make it look as though she was close to a panda than human with how much her eyes had darkened.
She walked along the corridors when she caught a blurry sight; the figure making his way towards her little-by-little.
"Lucie?"
Hearing the oh-so familiar voice, Lucia straightened her posture and squinted her eyes to regain her vision. "Harry?" she spoke, surprised that he would be up this early.
Distracted by his presence, Lucia forgotten she had to balance herself, causing her to fall forward.
At once, Harry caught her. "Woah," he pulled away to get a good look of her, "what happened to you?"
"L-Long story," she yawned.
"Care to tell?" he said amusingly.
She gave him a look, in which he feigns innocence to. "Not interested," she patted his cheek.
Harry shook his head with a chuckle. Lucia got back to her feet, still swaying in exhaustion. Seeing this, Harry pocketed his letter into his sweatshirt and crouched down, his back facing her. "C'mon,"
"What are you doing, H-Harry?" Lucia yawned.
"I was going to the Owlery to send my letter and I was wondering if you care to join me?"
She quirked a brow. "And why would I do that?"
"Well, Miss DiFiore," Harry began cheekily, causing Lucia's stomach to do a backflip at the way he called her. She pursed her lips. "It is simply because that would mean that you wouldn't have to walk back to the common room. I'm giving you a piggyback ride here," he offered with a smirk plastered upon his lips. "So, how about it?"
Lucia furrowed her eyes, but she did not further question it, for she was already slumped on Harry's back. She heard his chuckle sounding near her ear as her head nuzzled on his shoulder. "Do your magic, Harry," And before she knew it, she dozed into slumber.
Harry smiled, hearing the soft snores of Lucia. Something about her being in such tranquil sleep whenever she's with him simply made his stomach churn and his heart flutter. But it really did concern him a bit; she was so light despite how she looks.
He shook off the thought when he stepped foot in the Owlery that was situated at the top of West Tower.
The Owlery was a circular stone room, cold and drafty, because none of the windows had glass in them. The floor was entirely covered in straw, owl droppings, and the regurgitated skeletons of mice and voles. Hundreds upon hundreds of owls of every breed imaginable were nestled here on perches that rose right up to the top of the tower, nearly all of them asleep, though here and there a round amber eye glared at Harry as he propped Lucia cautiously on his back. Her only response to the action was a brief nuzzle of her face into his shoulder.
It felt slightly ticklish, but he tried not to awake her from it.
He spotted Hedwig nestled between a barn owl and a tawny, and hurried over to her, sliding a little on the dropping-strewn floor. It took him a while to persuade her to wake up and then to look at him, as she kept shuffling around on her perch, showing him her tail. She was still furious about his lack of gratitude the previous night. In the end, it was Harry suggesting she might be too tired, and that perhaps he would ask Ron to borrow Pigwidgeon, that made her stick out her leg and allow him to tie the letter to it.
"Just find him, all right?" Harry said, stroking her back as he carried her on his arm to one of the holes in the wall. "Before the dementors do."
She nipped his finger, harder than she would ordinarily have done, but hooted softly in a reassuring sort of way all the same. Then she spread her wings and took off into the sunrise. Harry watched her fly out of sight with the familiar feeling of unease back in his stomach. He had been so sure that Sirius's reply would alleviate his worries rather than increasing them.
"That was a lie, Harry," said Hermione sharply over breakfast, when he told her and Ron what he had done. "You didn't imagine your scar hurting and you know it."
"So what?" said Harry. "He's not going back to Azkaban because of me."
"Drop it," said Ron sharply to Hermione as she opened her mouth to argue some more, and for once, Hermione heeded him, and fell silent.
Harry sighed before he caught sight of Lucia emerging through the door, walking with her eyes close and with her bags prominent underneath her eyes despite her applying as much concealer she had in possession.
Yet, even with her awful appearance, she was still beautiful to Harry.
Right as the image of her smile filled his mind, he winced as an image of Cho Chang quickly struck his mind, as though reminding him who he fancied.
Right... he fancied Cho Chang. He was loyal to that statement...
Right?
Right?
"Is she all right?" Hermione asked, breaking Harry away from his pondering thoughts.
"She looks... kind of dead," said Ron blankly.
After Harry's little trip to the Owlery, he had peacefully dropped Lucia off in front of the stairs that led to the girls' dormitory. He could only watch with pity as she swayed dangerously up the stairs; he was even ready to catch her if she were to slip.
"Lucia!" Ron called for her, and faintly the three of them saw her wincing as she begrudgingly approached them before plastering a very strained smile.
"Please don't raise your voice," she pleaded quietly, dropping herself down beside Harry. "I feel like I'm going to have a major headache..." she whined.
"Where were you even last night?" Hermione asked sharply. "You know you are not allowed to be out after curfew —"
"That's gold coming from you, Granger," said Lucia calmly, rubbing her temples. "Out of everyone, you have no right to chide me about going out after curfew."
The boys watched the two girls' exchange as the air around them tensed. They rather not cut in between them, but only kept shoving a spoonful of their breakfast into their mouths.
Hermione looked away.
Faintly, to Lucia's surprise, Hermione said, "Sorry," under her breath.
Lucia felt somewhat refreshed from that. "It's fine," she said quietly, "but if you must know, I was actually walking around the castle."
"All night?!" Ron yelped.
"I found her walking like a zombie," said Harry.
"Was it really that bad?" groaned Lucia, as Harry nodded pitifully. "I didn't think it would get that tiring, and I'm not sure if I can go on for the day!" she whined.
"I beg to differ," said Harry with a small laugh. "We'll just catch you if you fall."
Ron snorted. "I think you meant just you, mate." He spoke. "I'm not catching her."
"Ron!" Hermione shook her head.
"I can just feel the love," said Lucia with a roll of her eyes. "Maybe that's why I prefer your sister more rather than you... I don't even know her,"
"Hah!" Ginny, who was passing them, stuck her tongue out at her brother. "Suck it!"
Ron glared at his little sister, watching as she disappeared out of the Great Hall before turning back to Lucia. "You take that back!"
"La, la, la, la..."
Soon they dropped the topic in hand as they made their way to their lesson of the day. Their lessons were becoming more difficult and demanding than ever before, particularly Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts. To their surprise, Professor Moody announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.
"But — but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Hermione uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said — to use it against another human was —"
"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way — when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely — fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."
He pointed one gnarled finger toward the door. Hermione went very pink and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Lucia stared at the interaction anxiously from beside Neville; Harry and Ron grinned at each other. They knew Hermione would rather eat bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson.
"I really don't like this lesson," grumbled Lucia as she rubbed the back of her strain neck exasperatedly. "It's not only going to be traumatising, but it feels illegal..."
"It's because it is illegal," mumbled Neville in an anxious manner. "We can't do anything, can we?"
"Are you sure you want to do this, Neville?" Lucia asked, worried.
"'Course I am," said Neville, but his voice cracked.
Lucia breathed out of a defeated sigh.
Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. They watched as, one by one, their classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state. Not one of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it.
"DiFiore," called Moody.
Lucia stared at the man, both in fear and hesitance. What if he tries to force her to tell her deepest and darkest secret? She could not handle that.
It doesn't help of the fact that she had a slight suspicion that this man was not who he says he is.
Moody's magical eyes swiveled around at her as silence fell upon the room. "Well?" He grown impatient.
With an encouraging push from Lavender and Neville, she moved robotically forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Lucia and said: "Imperio!"
She gasped lightly before she felt it; the feeling of the curse taking its toll in her mind.
Being with a sensitive mind like hers, she knew that there was no way to defeat the Imperius Curse. It would either let her succum to it, or halting it at once, which as you can see, did not happen.
She let the feeling overwhelm her body and to say it was a wonderful feeling would be an understatement; it was incredible, but off. She felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in her head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness.
Odd.
And then she heard Mad-Eye Moody's voice, echoing in some distant chamber of the dark abyss that surrounded her: do a pirouette... do a pirouette...
Excuse me, what?
Nonetheless, she stood in position, her right foot in front.
Do a pirouette...
Just as she was about to obliged, something in her halted herself; she knew nothing about ballet, she was a gymnast. She would only make a fool of herself, and that feeling doesn't sound all that pleasant.
She would rather walk into a cage filled with giant dragons that could possibly eat or burn her alive, than to do a fail pirouette in front of her classmates. That would be just too embarrassing.
Do a pirouette...
And embarrass myself? A voice scoffed defiantly in her mind: How about you go do the pirouette yourself, sneaky old ballet bastard.
Do a pirouette...
How many times are you going to force me to do that? Because I don't fancy having to be in this for too long, the voice echoed with a sly chuckle. My answer is no, dude, bugger off!
Do it! NOW!
Ugh, bastard ... she said. Fine, I'll do it, but it's your funeral...
And before she knew it, she felt her not only her legs, but as well as her hand; she felt her hand being shoved into the pocket of her robes, taking out her wand before pointing it at someone (she wasn't sure whom). Then the incantation slips out from her lips, "Aquamenti!"
Lucia broke away from the abyss she was just in, her vision went from blurry to clear in just the span of seconds before she a considerable amount of pain in her head. She looked around, her classmates were all in awe as they had their eyes on one person, and that person was not her. Lucia followed their gazes and a gasp made its way out of her mouth at the sight; Moody was soaked
She then realised the wand in her hand and gasped even more.
"I'm so sorry, Professor!" But she didn't feel all that sorry...
He blinked blankly before brushing it off and dried himself with a spell. He grinned at the twist, and it was unsettling to her. "Brilliant, DiFiore! Brilliant!"
Lucia laughed anxiously and moved back to the secure space she was in between Neville and Lavender, who casted her an awestruck look. She privately facepalmed herself. Although she was suspicious of her teacher, she still held a wee bit respect for him. Never in her life had she ever soaked a teacher before, and she swore she could dig a grave from the embarrassment.
Soon enough, it was Harry's turn. They watched as Harry stood, under the influence of the curse. Moody ordered him to jump on the table, and Harry bent his knees obediently, preparing to spring forward on the table, however something had stopped him.
He straightened his posture, no longer in position to jump.
Moody ordered and demanded him to obey, but nothing happen. Something from the look of his face told her that he was defying the orders, even under the influence of the curse. And the next thing they knew, he had both jumped and tried to prevent himself from jumping — the result was that he'd smashed headlong into the desk, knocking it over, and, by the feeling in his legs, fractured both his kneecaps.
He had defied the curse.
Lucia gasped silently in awe. She may have been defiant with Moody's orders when she was under the influence, but she still ended up doing the pirouette — she only had added a bit of spice in it. But Harry was completely different; he almost beat something that none of them could.
"Now, that's more like it!" growled Moody. "Look at that, you lot... Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention — watch his eyes, that's where you see it — very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!"
"The way he talks," Harry muttered as he hobbled out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class an hour later (Moody had insisted on putting Harry through his paces four times in a row, until Harry could throw off the curse entirely), "you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second."
"Yeah, I know," said Ron, who was skipping on every alternate step. He had had much more difficulty with the curse than Harry, though Moody assured him the effects would wear off by lunchtime. "Talk about paranoid..." Ron glanced nervously over his shoulder to check that Moody was definitely out of earshot and went on. "No wonder they were glad to get shot of him at the Ministry. Did you hear him telling Seamus what he did to that witch who shouted 'Boo' behind him on April Fools' Day? And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?"
All the fourth years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work they were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had assigned.
"You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!" she told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer —"
"We don't take O.W.L.s till fifth year!" said Dean Thomas indignantly.
"Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger and wonderfully, Miss Fiore" — Lucia snapped out of her daydream and jumped at the call of her name — "remains the only students in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!"
Hermione, who had turned rather pink again, seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself. Lucia blinked absently, still comprehending Professor McGonagall's words, and momentarily, she thought she was growing mad when she thought she saw Professor McGonagall briefly smiling her way.
The smile was laced with pride of her growth.
But she had probably just imagined it. There was no way that was real.
However, Lucia couldn't help but feel all fuzzy all the sudden. She was actually doing well at something...
Harry and Ron were deeply amused when Professor Trelawney told them that they had received top marks for their homework in their next Divination class. She read out large portions of their predictions, commending them for their unflinching acceptance of the horrors in store for them — but they were less amused when she asked them to do the same thing for the month after next; both of them were running out of ideas for catastrophes. Lucia, however, didn't had the same luck as them as once again, she had gotten low marks even though she was sure that her prediction was accurate enough — no, she knew for sure that she was right.
Trelawney had always had it out for her.
Meanwhile Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had them writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. Professor Snape was forcing them to research antidotes. They took this one seriously, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked. Professor Flitwick had asked them to read three extra books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms. Even Hagrid was adding to their workload.
The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. Hagrid was delighted, and as part of their "project," suggested that they come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behavior.
"I will not," said Draco Malfoy flatly when Hagrid had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra-large toy out of his sack. "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks."
Hagrid's smile faded off his face.
"Yeh'll do wha' yer told," he growled, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book... I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy."
The Gryffindors roared with laughter. Lucia smiled along; she was still bitter of the fact that she's the one that has a gauze on her cheek instead of any other person.
Malfoy flushed with anger, but apparently the memory of Moody's punishment was still sufficiently painful to stop him from retorting. Lucia returned to the castle at the end of the lesson in high spirits; seeing Hagrid put down Malfoy was particularly satisfying, especially because Malfoy had done his very best to get Hagrid sacked the previous year.
When she arrived in the entrance hall, she was unable to proceed as she saw a large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase.
"What's going on?" Lucia asked, her book clutched against her chest as she approached Harry, Ron, and Hermione, perplexed by the crowd.
"Dunno..." told Harry, shrugging.
Ron, the tallest of the four, stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of them and read the sign aloud to the other three:
TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT
THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY —
"Brilliant!" said Harry. "It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won't have time to poison us all!"
"Of course, that's what you're focusing on," Lucia mused as she bounced on her tippy-toes to peer over the crowd of students, "And not of the fact that bloody Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are coming!"
"Would you rather be poison?" Harry retort, grinning.
"And recreate the infamous Romeo and Juliet scene? Nah," said Lucia.
STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST.
"Only a week away!" said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him..."
"Cedric?" said Ron blankly as Ernie hurried off.
"Diggory," said Harry. "He must be entering the tournament."
"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?" said Ron as they pushed their way through the chattering crowd toward the staircase.
Lucia smacked his arm at once as Hermione shot him a look. Ron rubbed his arm, looking at girls as though they were a hydra and had grown another head.
"He's not an idiot. You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch," said Hermione. "I've heard he's a really good student — and he's a prefect."
She spoke as though this settled the matter.
"Don't forget he's smart." Lucia adds as matter-of-factly. "He's practically the perfect embodiment of the guy you wish to one day marry."
"That's an off way to put..." said Harry oddly.
"You two only like him because he's handsome," said Ron scathingly.
"Of course, he's handsome. He's one of the most good-looking guys I've seen, and he's also nice." Lucia said under her breath and then sighing dreamily, "Mostly handsome though..."
Harry shot her a look, in which she responded only with a look that said what? to him, not fazed.
"Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!" said Hermione indignantly.
"Well I kind of do," trailed Lucia shamelessly.
Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like "Lockhart!"
The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where she went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.
It was also evident that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.
Other members of the staff seemed oddly tense too.
"Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can't even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.
When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.
As Lucia sat at the Gryffindor table, using her peaceful past time to finish with a design she had been planning all summer, the world seems to really want her her to socialise as soon enough, she found herself sitting in between Fred and George while Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat across from her.
How did it all come to this?
She really could not escape from them.
She breathed sharply, as though defeated. Though she couldn't exactly complain, can she? This was something she had wished for since she was young. To be surrounded by people who accepted her...
"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked. "Thought any more about trying to enter?"
"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," said George bitterly. "She just told me to shut up and get on with Transfiguring my raccoon."
"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" said Ron thoughtfully. "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before..."
"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't," said Fred. "McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."
"Who are the judges?" Harry asked.
"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, "because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."
She noticed them all looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had, "It's all in Hogwarts: A History. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School."
"What are you on about?" said Ron.
Lucia continued with colouring her drawing. "The house-elves, Ron." She stated. Of course, she knew about Hermione's campaign, but before she were to join it, she wanted to know how Hermione will be fighting for the house-elves rights.
She couldn't just participate in the campaign blindly and dully because Hermione's her dormmate. She needed information first.
"She's talking about the rights for house-elves," said Lucia.
Hermione nodded, her eyes flashing. "Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts: A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!"
After Harry and Ron had paid two Sickles for a S.P.E.W. badge, they had only done it to keep her quiet. Their Sickles had been wasted, however; if anything, they seemed to have made Hermione more vociferous. She had tried to corner Lucia before, but she was adamant in her answer; unless Hermione had a brochure or a proper plan, she would not buy anything. She wanted the rights for elves as much as Hermione do, but she also wanted the whole thing to progress rightly.
Since then, Hermione had been badgering Harry and Ron ever since, first to wear the badges, then to persuade others to do the same, and she had also taken to rattling around the Gryffindor common room every evening, cornering people, and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.
"You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned, and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?" she kept saying fiercely.
Some people, like Neville, had paid up just to stop Hermione from glowering at them. A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke.
Ron now rolled his eyes at the ceiling, which was flooding them all in autumn sunlight, and Fred became extremely interested in his bacon (both twins had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge). George, however, leaned in toward Hermione.
"Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?"
"No, of course not," said Hermione curtly, "I hardly think students are supposed to —"
"Well, we have," said George, indicating Fred, "loads of times, to nick food. And we've met them, and they're happy."
"But they're being treated uite poorly by people..." said Lucia softly.
"The thing is, they think they've got the best job in the world —"
"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" Hermione began hotly, but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls. Harry looked up at once and saw Hedwig soaring toward him. Hermione stopped talking abruptly; she and Ron watched Hedwig anxiously as she fluttered down onto Harry's shoulder, folded her wings, and held out her leg wearily.
Lucia watched, quirking a brow, perplexed as all the sudden, Harry, Ron, and Hermione became secretive all of the sudden. She didn't know what Harry was reading as all she knew was that the three were talking in a hush tone. Although she was very much curious, she bit herself back from nosing into their business.
It wasn't her place.
Instead, she busied herself by caressing Harry's owl, Hedwig, who gladly accepted the affection, leaning into her touch, hooting gracefully. Rania smiled fondly at this. "You're so pretty, aren't you, carina?"
Hedwig hooted.
"Of course, you are," she gushed, stroking Hedwig's feathers. "Here you go, darling," Lucia poured a goblet of water for the owl. Hedwig immediately stuck her beak into the chalice, much to Lucia's happiness.
Finally, Harry rolled up that mysterious letter in his grasp and slipped it inside of his robes, wondering whether he felt more or less worried than before. He supposed that Sirius managing to get back without being caught was something. He couldn't deny either that the idea that Sirius was much nearer was reassuring; at least he wouldn't have to wait so long for a response every time he wrote.
"Thanks, Hedwig," he said, stroking her. She hooted and then took off again, clearly desperate for a good long sleep in the Owlery.
"I hope this tournament is all worth the hype," started Lucia, breaking all of them from their thoughts. Her voice was serene as she watched Hedwig fly out.
"I'm sure it is..." Harry said quietly.
"It'll be a shame if it isn't," she hummed distantly.
Her mind wandered elsewhere. This wouldn't be such a peaceful year...