If I could rearrange my words,
I'd say what I mean.
If I could learn to count the cards,
I'd risk everything.
Imagine how brave I'd be
If I knew I'd be safe.
If I could only know the end,
I'd be a prodigy of faith.

"Pacific Blues"
Sleeping At Last

LUCY:

I tried to tell Cedric about the dream. The dream I had at the bottom of the Black Lake.

The worst nightmare I had ever experienced.

But the words wouldn't come. I couldn't speak. I couldn't bring myself to talk about it. The words choked me. They refused to let me breathe. So once the storm passed, I instead I tried to tell him I hadn't been afraid. That I had known he would come for me. Because I did. I had known that, before I fell asleep.

Because, truthfully, it wasn't really being in the Black Lake itself that sent me over the edge. It was the nightmare.

I was awake at the bottom. Awake and alone. In the darkness, in the silence, in the cold. I was awake and alone at the bottom of the Black Lake, and I knew Cedric wasn't coming for me.

I didn't hear a voice telling me he wouldn't come. I didn't see any sign that he wouldn't come.

But I knew. I just knew. In my heart of hearts, my soul of souls, I knew that Cedric wasn't coming for me. Cedric wasn't coming to save the day like he always did. Cedric wasn't going to rescue me, and he never would again.

I knew in this nightmare that I was awake and alone at the bottom of the Black Lake. I knew in this nightmare that I would never see the light of day again. I knew in this nightmare that if I wanted to I could push off the bottom and swim to the top, but I knew in this nightmare that Cedric wouldn't be waiting for me whether I did or not. I knew in this nightmare that it would be so much easier just to stay on the bottom until I ran out of oxygen.

And in this nightmare, I stayed on the bottom until my world turned black.

On Ron's birthday, I woke up on the early side to try to talk to him alone before the day really began --- which proved to be ineffective, because he was carried down the stairs on the shoulders of Harry, Neville, Seamus, and Dean while Fred and George sang a horrible birthday song at the top of their lungs. I tried again at lunch, then again at dinner, but he was still coasting on all of the publicity from the second task and therefore surrounded by people.

Everyone was keen to know what had happened down at the bottom of the lake. Ron was all too happy to tell them his side of the story, and it grew more and more impressive with every telling, but I tried to keep to myself. I was still embarrassed by the way I had fallen apart, and I was sorely tempted to tell at least Cedric and maybe Harry about my dream so they didn't think I was completely spineless, but every time I thought about it, I decided I was ridiculous for letting a silly little dream affect me so deeply and stuffed my uneasiness deeper down inside myself.

My chance to talk to Ron finally came at the end of the day, when his party was over and nearly everyone had gone to bed. I grabbed my Chocolate Frog card --- my Chocolate Frog card --- and went to sit beside him.

"Hey," I said as casually as I could.

He looked up. "Hey, Lucy. What's up?"

"Well, I wanted to show you this first, in the spirit of birthdays." I reluctantly passed him the card. "This is the card-"

"Harry always teases you about," he finished for me, flipping it over to read the back. Once he had skimmed it, he looked at the picture on the front again. "Cute picture. Who took it?"

"Cedric. He made the card for me too, for my birthday our second year."

He turned the card back over and looked at the date. "May 23, second year... wouldn't that be the day we went-"

"Into the Forbidden Forest? Yeah." I sighed. "Which brings me to my second thing. I... well, I thought you might understand. More than anyone else would."

He passed the card back into my hands and nodded. "Go ahead. I'm listening."

I looked down at the card in my hands, watching the picture loop. "How did you cope? After the night in the Forbidden Forest?"

"What do you mean, Lucy?"

"Saturday... the Black Lake..." I looked up into his eyes. "Ron, that was one of the scariest nights of my entire life. I'm terrified of water, the thought of drowning has the power to paralyze me if I let myself dwell on it for too long. And I thought..." I looked down again. "You faced your fears that night, with the acromantulas. And you were so ridiculously brave about it. Never complained afterward, never showed a sign of weakness or regret. And to tell you the truth, I'm still scared, even though it was five nights ago. I want to be brave."

"Hey." Ron reached forward and turned the card over. He pointed to a line halfway down the card. "Read that one out loud."

"Are you-"

"Just do it."

I cleared my throat and said quietly, "'Her other talents include being remarkably brave and resilient in the midst of hardship and kind to everyone she meets.'" I looked up at him, waiting for whatever came next.

"Right. Go back to that night, the moment we walked into McGonagall's office. What's the first thing you did?"

"Waved at the twins as they-"

"After that."

"Sat down?"

"After that?"

"I... oh, I introduced myself to Gabrielle."

"And why'd you do that?"

"She looked scared."

Ron nodded. "I figured as much. So the 'kind to everyone she meets' part is true. Now think back to that-" He shuddered. "-that day in the Forbidden Forest. Who did all of the talking with Aragorn?"

"Aragog," I corrected.

He waved me off. "Whatever. Who did all of the talking?"

I blinked. "I didn't do all of the talking, Harry talked too-"

"And would you consider Harry to be brave?"

"Of course. I'd have to be stupid not to."

"How much braver would you feel, then, if I reminded you that you were the one who started the talking?"

I froze. "I- a bit braver, I guess."

"And how much braver would you feel if I reminded you that you jumped down into the Chamber of Secrets first of the four of us?"

"A bit."

Ron smiled. "There you have it, then. Everything you want to be, you already are."

"But I'm still scared," I admitted in a soft voice.

He raised his eyebrows.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because being scared has nothing to do with bravery," he replied. "Look, you know as well as anyone that I'm still scared of spiders. You had to kill one for me over summer, remember?"

I giggled. "That I remember."

"And you still came to me, thinking I was brave, didn't you?"

"I did. Because you are, and I want to be more like you. I want to handle this like you did."

"No, don't be more like me." He snatched the card from my hand and held it up. He moved it closer and closer to my face until I had to go cross-eyed to see it. "Be more like you. The you Cedric wrote about all those years ago. The you that you still are."

I laughed and took the card back. "Alright, alright, I think I get it. Thanks, Ron."

He grinned. "Of course. Can't have one of my best friends thinking she's not brave, now, can I?"

"I guess not." I smiled. "Well, now you know my birthday. Congratulations, I suppose."

"Do the twins still not know?"

I nodded.

His grin widened. "Excellent. I can't wait to brag about it in the morning."

"Are you going to use this to blackmail them or something?"

"Perhaps, perhaps. For now, I will simply enjoy knowing something about you that they don't. You're rather mysterious sometimes, you know that?"

"Well, Harry says I'm unpredictable, so I guess mysterious isn't too far removed from that." I turned around. "Oy, Mione!"

Her head snapped up from the book she was reading. "Yes? What is it?"

"Am I more mysterious or unpredictable?"

Harry looked up from his copy of Flying with the Cannons. "I have my answer."

"And I have mine!" Ron piped up.

Hermione pursed her lips. "I'd have to go with mysterious."

"Yes!" Ron pumped his fists in the air. "Hermione actually agrees with something I said! Happy birthday to me!"

A week later, the mail brought two significant items. First was a short note from Sirius asking us to meet him on the fringes of Hogsmeade with as much food as we could carry on our next visit. Second was Rita Skeeter's revenge.

Hermione laughed aloud at breakfast as she read the copy of Witch Weekly Lavender had sent down the table with a concerned expression.

I held my hand out. "Alright, hand it over."

She held up a finger, still laughing. "Wait, I'm only on the second sentence."

"Well, read it out loud, then!" I insisted.

Hermione cleared her throat. "First off, the title is 'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache.'"

I slapped my hand to my forehead. "Not again."

"A boy like no other, perhaps --- yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss."

"At least she got your age right this time, mate," Ron said with a roll of his eyes. "Go on, Mione."

"'Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has 'never felt this way about any other girl.'"

"'Plain but ambitious'?" I repeated incredulously. "Clearly this woman wasn't at the Yule Ball. The boys there couldn't take their eyes off you!"

"It gets better!" Hermione singsonged. "'However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.'" Hermione screwed up her face in what looked like a Pansy Parkinson impression. Surely enough, it was. "'"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."'"

"So Pansy is pretty and vivacious, but Hermione is plain but ambitious?" Harry asked.

Hermione either ignored him or didn't hear him. "Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Lovely woman. Charming, truly."

Ron was less than amused. "I told you! I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of... of... scarlet woman!"

Hermione nearly spat out her milk. "Scarlet woman?" she repeated.

"It's what my mum calls them," he said, looking embarrassed.

"If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch. What a pile of old rubbish." She slid the magazine back down the table at Lavender. "Thanks for the entertaining read!"

Lavender looked somewhat concerned. "Just thought you would want to know before Pansy got to you in Potions," she explained. "Good luck."

Hermione waved her off. "I'll be fine."

Surely enough, in Potions, she just laughed when Pansy tried to get under her skin. But as she ground scarab beetles, something else seemed to be bothering her after she had borrowed the magazine back from Lav and read the article again.

"There's something funny, though. How could Rita Skeeter have known...?"

Ron looked up quickly. "Known what? You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?"

"Don't be stupid. No, it's just... how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?"

Ron dropped his pestle. "What?"

"He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake, after he got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to-"

"And what did you say?"

"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else, but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there... or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task..."

"And what did you say?"

"Well, I was too busy seeing whether you and Harry and Lucy were okay to-"

"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Granger, I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."

I bit my lip, determinedly keeping my eyes down. Oh how I hated Snape...

"Ah, reading magazines under the table as well? A further ten points from Gryffindor. Oh but of course, Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings."

The Slytherins (except Archie, of course --- Cam wouldn't have laughed either, but she had stayed home after her brother's funeral) burst out laughing. I looked up for the first time to glare at Snape.

His lip curled into a cruel smile. "'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache... dear, dear, Potter, what's ailing you now? 'A boy like no other, perhaps...'"

He went on to read a paragraph of the article. Harry and Hermione both looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"'Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl-'"

"Professor?" I interrupted.

His cold eyes snapped up from the article and met mine. "Yes?"

I held out my bowl. "Do my scarab beetles look properly ground to you, sir?"

He blinked. He looked at the beetles, then at me, then back at the beetles, then back at me. I smiled.

If he said no, I planned to ask him to demonstrate the proper way to grind them. Then he'd be forced to either give me wrong information --- which I doubted he would do --- or admit he was wrong --- which seemed even more unlikely. And if he said yes...

"Yes, they do," he said after a moment longer.

I smiled wider. "Thank you, sir. I was worried that your reading of the article had distracted me from doing the best possible job." I looked around the room. "Was I the only one distracted?"

Archie quickly caught on. He held up the partially-ground contents of his own bowl. "Professor, do my scarab beetles look properly ground to you?"

Since Archie was on the other end of the room, he had to get up to take a closer look. I lunged across the table, snatched up the magazine, cast a silencing charm, and ripped the pages out.

"Sorry," I mouthed to Lavender.

She shook her head as if to say I didn't need to apologize. "Do it," she mouthed back.

I nodded, shoved the rest of the magazine into my bookbag, and pointed my wand at the pages of the article.

Incendio, I thought to myself, concentrating with all of my might on what would be one of my first nonverbal spells.

It caught fire instantly. "Aguamenti," I whispered, gathering up the ashes and also dumping them into my bookbag.

I glanced up just as Professor Snape turned back around after assessing Archie's beetles. The entire class was staring at him, waiting to see what he'd do next.

It appeared that without the article in front of him, he had forgotten what the interruption was about in the first place.

"Back to work," he snapped, looking somewhere between confused, angry, and embarrassed.

The class was so silent the knock at the door twenty minutes later made us all jump.

"Enter," Snape said.

It was Igor Karkaroff himself who entered. I looked down quickly.

"We need to talk," he muttered to Snape.

Snape seemed less than impressed with the idea. "I'll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff."

"I want to talk now, while you can't slip off, Severus. You've been avoiding me."

"After the lesson."

As the bell rang, Harry knocked his armadillo bile to the ground and immediately bent down low to mop it up. I had to try very hard not to smile --- he was brilliant.

"Meet you in the stairwell," I said under my breath, playfully pushing his head down to help him hide better.

Archie jogged over to where I was walking with Ron and Hermione. "That bit with the beetles was well-played, Diggory."

I smiled. "Thanks for catching on as fast as you did."

"Of course. I've used a lot of adjectives to describe Snape over the years, but 'nice' has never been one of them."

That drew laughs from Ron and Hermione. A bit of Archie's grin returned to his face, which had been sadder than I'd ever seen it in the two weeks since Cam's brother died. He had gone to the funeral that weekend, but he came back, whereas Cam stayed with her family. He knew giving her time with her family was for the best, but I could tell that being apart from her while she was hurting killed him.

Before any of us could comment further, Harry hurtled up the stairs.

"Karkaroff was showing Snape something on his forearm," he panted. "Snape saw me before he could say much else about it, and I had to get out of there."

Archie started slightly. "Harry, which forearm?"

Harry blinked, as if he hadn't seen Archie standing with us. "Er, the left one. Why?"

Archie turned to me. "Your mom's an Auror, yeah?"

"Was," I corrected. "Why?"

He gnawed on the inside of his cheek, thinking hard. "Cam's dad, too. I can't remember which forearm the Dark Mark was on."

"You mean Karkaroff's a Death Eater?" Hermione asked in a horrified whisper.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, guess we forgot to tell you. Sirius said so."

It was Archie's turn to blink. "Sirius? As in, Black?"

Hermione shot Harry a look that screamed Oh now you've done it.

But Archie was one of Cedric's best friends. I knew we could trust him.

I turned to him and smiled. "It would seem you're behind the times, Graye. Sirius Black is innocent and Igor Karkaroff is a Death Eater, didn't you know?"

He blinked once, twice. Three times. "Sure. Why not. But wait, Harry, if he went to Snape about it, does that mean...?"

"I don't know what exactly it means," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck, "but I doubt it's good."

"We should clear out of here before he hears us gossiping like old women with nothing better to do," Archie said. "But I can be your resident Slytherin spy. I'll keep an eye on Snape, and the kids of Death Eaters too, for that matter."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked as we started climbing the stairs. "Would it be safe for you? I remember first year, you-"

"Hermione, Hermione, you worry too much. I was eleven then. I've learned to fight back. But, more importantly," he said, flipping his wand, "I've learned the art of subtlety, too. I'll be fine."

"I think subtlety is something we could all learn from you," Ron said with a roll of his eyes. "Dropping your armadillo bile, Harry? Really?"

Harry chuckled. "We can't all be Lucy." He lifted his hands up in a bowl shape, batting his eyelashes dramatically. "Professor Snape, do you think these beetles look good? Oh, they do? Well, I won't be needing my pestle anymore, now, will I? You know, Professor Snape, I have a good idea for where it might fit! If you'd just bend over-"

At that point, I was literally laughing so hard I had tears streaming down my face. "I did not say that! I was just trying to distract him long enough to burn the article so he would shut up!"

Harry smiled at me in a way that made me weak in the knees. "Doesn't mean it wasn't brilliant. I just took some, ah, liberties with the specifics of what you said. For comedic effect."

"I didn't say anything about putting a pestle anywhere!"

"You didn't have to, we were all thinking it."

"What?!" I squawked. "All of you?"

The outburst of laughter that followed answered my question.

I may have stopped Professor Snape, but I couldn't stop the readers of Witch Weekly.

The next morning, we were all eating breakfast when a torrent of owls settled on the table, all inching closer to Hermione, holding out their letters and flapping their wings in an attempt to make her open their letter first.

"Something tells me that's not fan mail," George said grimly. "Careful, Hermione."

She didn't seem to hear him. She reached forward and freed a letter from an owl's beak.

"Oh really!" she spat, her face reddening with anger and embarrassment.

"What's up?" Ron asked.

She shook her head and turned it around so we could all read the letters, individually cut out from a magazine.

You are a WickEd giRL. HarRy PotTER desErves BeTteR. GO back wherE you cAMe from mUGgle.

I snatched the letter from her hands and ripped it in half. "Honestly." I reached for a letter of my own. It was even worse, reading "Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you, Mudblood," so I ripped it in half, and then half again, and then half again. How could people be so disgusting?

Hermione kept tearing open envelope after envelope. "They're all like it! 'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you.' 'You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn.'"

I grabbed the second-to-last envelope and ripped it open as Hermione opened hers. Hermione yelped in pain, and at the same time, the letter I had opened glowed and blasted a jet of blue at my face with a hiss of "Mucus ad nauseam!" It struck me between the eyes before I could raise my hands to protect myself.

The four boys watching us all leapt into action.

"Undiluted bubotuber pus!" Ron said, inspecting Hermione's envelope as Harry angrily shooed the owl away that had delivered it.

Fred threw my envelope and the letter inside to the ground, hitting it with a stunning spell before it could realize it missed its target and blast Hermione, too.

"Are you alright, Lucy?" George asked.

Harry's head snapped in my direction. "Did yours have it, too?"

I shook my head, suddenly feeling exhausted.

"What happened?" Fred pressed, leaning forward to inspect my face.

"I don't know," I said. "I just feel... tired. And... dizzy. And..."

Before I could say anything more, Cedric was beside me. "Mucus ad nauseam?"

I blinked. It was suddenly hard to think around the growing pressure in my head. "I... I think so."

"I saw the blue." He looked across the table at Hermione. "Madam Pomfrey has the antidote for bubotuber pus, Hermione, don't worry. The sooner you apply it, the less it will hurt."

She nodded, tears filling her eyes, and rushed out of the Great Hall. As she left, I lunged forward for my napkin --- my nose had started running like a waterfall.

"Alright, Lu, I'll walk with you," Cedric said, standing up quickly and pulling me up with him. "You'll be alright, you just need to get to the Hospital Wing before you collapse."

"Lovely," I remarked. I was feeling heavier by the second, but I was no wimp. I was a werewolf. I waved at the boys with a smile, lowering the napkin just long enough to quip, "Don't you just love fan mail?"

"Whoa, whoa, wait, what?" Harry appeared at my side as I left the Great Hall. "Cedric, what do you mean, collapse?"

"Basically, that curse gives you a terrible head cold. The worst imaginable," Cedric explained. "I can reverse it, but the potion is in the Hospital Wing. What do you have next?"

"Herbology."

"I'm fine, Harry," I said with a laugh. "Remember second year? We drank more Pepperup Potion than we did water. Go finish breakfast, I'll see you in Herbology."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. "Positive. I'll be fine."

He reluctantly turned around, leaving me alone with Cedric.

"What was that?" Cedric asked in a low, worried voice. "The letter? Who sent it?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Someone who reads Witch Weekly."

"Someone who... what?"

"It was intended for Hermione," I said quickly. "Not me. I just opened it because some of the letters called her really terrible things and I didn't want her reading them all. Good thing, really, that it hit me and not her."

"Oh. Oh, alright. I just thought... well, doesn't matter what I thought. It wasn't meant for you." He offered an uneasy smile. "Stupid self-sacrificing Gryffindor."

"Hey, that's my line. That's what I called Harry during that disastrous match second year."

Cedric's smile became more genuine. "I know. Heard about that from the twins. They seemed to think it was funny for you to say that then turn around and try to physically fight Lockhart to get him away from Harry just a couple minutes later. The two of you are more alike than probably realize, you know. You and Harry."

I felt my face grow crimson, and not just with the low-grade fever typical of a common cold. "Yeah, well," I muttered, "we do spend a lot of time together."

"So I've noticed," he commented with a laugh.

I would have swatted his arm, but instead, I lunged forward and caught it. Cedric stopped laughing instantly, his other arm coming forward to catch me.

"Don't tell Harry," I said as my world gave way to blackness.

About an hour later, I strode out of the Hospital Wing with steam rising from my ears and very, very clear promises from Cedric and Hermione both that nobody needed to know I did actually collapse --- Harry especially. The bell was ringing as I left, so I headed down to Care of Magical Creatures rather than Herbology.

"Potter, have you split up with your girlfriend? Why was she so upset at breakfast?" Pansy Parkinson called after Harry.

"You can laugh all you want," I said from behind her, feeling awfully bold all of a sudden, "but last I checked, she was the one who went to the Yule Ball with a Triwizard Champion, not you."

Pansy spun on her heel, wrinkling her nose with disgust. "A mystery that confounds us all. At least the Mudblood-"

"Silencio!" I crossed my arms, keeping a firm grip on my wand. "Don't say anything like that around me again. You'll regret it."

She wrenched her own wand out and removed the charm from herself. "As I was saying, at least Granger had the good sense to date up the ladder. Potter and Krum would certainly have been better than your date, Diggory, that blood traitor Weas-"

"Silencio!" This time, I didn't cross my arms. I kept my wand pointed at her. "I mean it, Pansy. Don't."

I sighed dramatically and tucked my wand away, walking around her to catch up with Harry and Ron, who were looking rather impressed, though surprised.

"I take it you're feeling better?" Ron managed after a moment.

I smiled. "Yeah, it was an easy fix."

Harry swatted at the steam that was hitting his face. "Haven't needed Pepperup in a while. Is it still nasty?"

"I had forgotten how bad it tasted, but it's better than death by head cold. Hermione should be at lunch, her hands are almost back to normal." I stopped and gasped when I saw the crates in front of Hagrid's hut. "Nifflers!"

Hagrid beamed. "Darn right, Lucy. Come on, everyone, gather 'round!"

The class slowly formed a circle around the crates.

"These're nifflers! Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff." Just then, one niffler jumped up and tried to snatch Pansy's watch off her wrist. "There yeh go, look. Useful little treasure detectors! Thought we'd have some fun with 'em today. I've buried some gold coins over there. I've got a prize fer whoever picks the niffler that digs up most. Jus' take off all yer valuables, an' choose a niffler, an' get ready ter set 'em loose."

Harry slipped his watch off, and I couldn't help but notice the small smile on his face out of the corner of my eye when I rolled up my sleeve just high enough to reveal the bracelet. I undid the clasp, trying not to blush, and slipped it into my pocket. He had glanced away by the time I looked back at him, so I glanced away, too.

My gaze landed on Neville, who looked as if he'd had a worse day than I had. His eyes were a bit red, and his cheeks too, which was odd --- Herbology typically made him happier than anything else.

I ducked away from Harry and Ron and made my way over to him.

"Hey, Neville, want to choose our nifflers together?" I asked with a smile.

He blinked. "Er, yeah. Yeah, sure."

I gestured for him to follow me, to where I knew Knut Scamander was. I scooped him up and passed him to Neville. "I think you'll like this one. Guess what his name is."

"Lucy, I don't know-"

Just then, Knut crawled up Neville's arm and snuggled into his neck. Of all of the nifflers, Knut was the most affectionate, and the best at finding treasure, which was why Hagrid and I had decided to name him after the most famous Hufflepuff creature-lover of all time as well as a unit of wizarding currency. Neville looked as if he'd cry again, but this time from pleasant surprise.

"Neville, meet Knut. Knut Scamander. He's sweet, isn't he?"

Neville nodded. "He is. Which one will you get?"

I glanced into the crate and waited for one to run up to me. It was a baby who ran up to me, with light brown fur and big blue eyes. I scooped her up, and she instantly closed her eyes.

"Doesn't look terribly excited about treasure-hunting," Neville commented.

I laughed. "It's okay. She's just a baby. This might be her first treasure hunt."

"What's her name?"

"I haven't named her yet, actually," I said, gently holding her out in front of me. "She reminds me of someone, but I'm not quite sure who."

"Are you serious?" Ron laughed from behind me. "You don't know who that niffler looks like?"

I turned around, confused. Harry was smiling, looking like he was in on the joke, too.

"No...?" I said, glancing between Harry and Ron.

"Who do you think she looks like?" Neville asked.

Ron reached forward and pulled Neville by the sleeve to where he was standing. He pointed at the niffler in my arms, then at me, then back at the niffler. Neville laughed loudly.

"Lucy, it looks just like you!"

I scoffed. "You can't call me a baby niffler just because I haven't hit my growth spurt yet-"

"No, no, not that," Harry chuckled. He stopped and cocked his head, smirking. "Well... not just that."

"Oh, shove off, Potter," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Alright, alright. But look." He reached forward and loosely held one of my braids down to the niffler's fur. "And your eyes are close to the same color. Yours are a lighter shade of blue, but it's close."

"So what you're saying is... this niffler would look good in my Yule Ball dress?"

All three boys laughed then. The sound frightened the baby a bit, so she scrambled up onto my shoulder and hid her eyes with the same braid Harry had been holding.

I almost made a comment along the lines of "Oh, look, she's a coward too, just like me!" but I didn't think Ron would like that very much after our conversation a few days prior. So instead, I kept my mouth shut and smiled. Making them laugh felt good.

"Hang on, there's a spare niffler here!" Hagrid called. He scanned the group. "Where's Hermione?"

Our smiles faded. "She had to go to the Hospital Wing," I said in a low voice. I stepped forward and lifted the black-furred Hunter from the crate. "I don't think the baby is feeling up to treasure-hunting. Hunter can search for me while I give this little girl some more attention."

Hagrid nodded. "Sounds good! Alrigh', everyone, turn 'em loose!"

The sound of laughter soon filled the air. I think I even saw Draco Malfoy smiling, and not in a sinister way. It was unusual.

While Ron asked Hagrid about the risks of keeping nifflers as pets, I made my way over to Neville, who was sitting by himself. He looked better, but still somewhat lonely.

"Lucy, look at how many he's found!" he exclaimed, showing me the dozen or so he had collected in his robe.

I smiled as Knut dropped another one into Neville's lap. "Good boy, Knut! Go get more!" I sat beside Neville and let the baby curl up in my lap. Hunter's name was somewhat misleading --- he had only given me one coin and a safety pin. But that didn't matter to me in the slightest. "Is everything alright, Neville? You seemed sad earlier."

He bit his lip and looked down. "Would you believe me if I told you Moody makes me nervous?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded. "Would you believe me if I told you he makes me nervous, too?"

"He- he does? Why?"

"I don't know. Just instinct. Which makes no sense," I added quickly, "my mum worked with him after all, it's just... a weird gut feeling."

Neville blinked. "Yeah, me too. I... I heard..."

He paused, so I waited to see if he would speak further. After a couple of seconds, he started talking again.

"I heard he can see through clothes. Things he said to people at the Yule Ball."

I felt my blood run cold. If that were true, he certainly would have seen my bite mark... oh Merlin...

"Just small things," Neville continued, "like commenting on people's socks. But I don't think it stops at socks."

Then, Neville pulled the sleeves of his robes higher and clenched them in his fists. He stared straight ahead, and didn't acknowledge Knut dropping another coin into his lap.

"He can see that so well, but he doesn't seem to see how... how hard it is for me to be in his class..."

"I'm so sorry, Neville," I said. "I can't even imagine how horrible it must feel to... have to see that."

He nodded. "All my life, I've heard from my gran how amazing my parents were. If I can't even handle the sight of the cruciatus curse on a spider-"

"Shh." I glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. In stark contrast, laughter still rang out around us. We were in a safe albeit sad bubble. "Neville, nobody wins in a game of comparison." I laughed humorlessly. "If I lived my life comparing myself to Cedric, I would still be as miserable as I was when I first came here."

"You were miserable?"

I nodded. "It didn't last long, but I was. I wanted so badly to be in Hufflepuff, just like Cedric."

"Me too," he said quickly. "Well, er, not like Cedric. I didn't know Cedric. But I wanted to be in Hufflepuff. Anyway, what happened next? How did you start being happy here?"

"I just... found other ways to belong. I was the Gryffindor reserve for Quidditch, and I stopped hiding from people and started making friends." I turned to Neville. "Did I ever mention to you that I met Luna?"

"Luna told me," he said. "She's really nice."

"Do you talk to Luna and Ginny about any of this?"

He shook his head. "Not really. They're not as easy as you." He smiled sadly. "You just... draw it out of me, it seems."

I smiled. "I think you were just ready to talk about it, and I happened to be here. But Neville, I mean it. You don't have to compare yourself to anyone else, because I promise that the right people will always love you as you are."

Right then, the baby crawled out of my lap and into Neville's, looking up at him with those big blue eyes. He smiled, looking from her to me. "She really does look like you. If you were, you know, a niffler."

"I'll go get my Yule Ball dress, then," I said, pretending to get up.

Neville grabbed me by the wrist, grinning. "Very funny, Lucy." He blinked, suddenly looking like he was thinking very hard. "Lulu. You should name her Lulu! It's your name, but not!"

The niffler suddenly make a high-pitched chirping noise, sounding quite delighted.

I sighed and picked her up. "Lulu, huh?"

She chirped again, as if solidifying her new identity.

I laughed and pressed my nose to the tip of her snout. "Alright, fine. Lulu it is." I looked sideways at Neville. "For the record, if anybody ever calls me Lulu, I might actually hurt them. Lu is fine coming from Cedric or Harry, and of course the twins call me Cub, but I don't think I'd be able to bear Lulu."

Neville smiled the most mischievous smile I had ever seen on his face. "Sounds like I should start working on defensive spells, then."

"Don't even think about it, Longbottom," I replied with a laugh. Lulu made a sound that sounded like an attempt to mimic my laugh, which made Neville laugh, too.

Lulu Everlin Diggory... Merlin, no.

A/N: I sure hope you all like Neville and Ron as much as I do, because when I had the chance to write special scenes for them, I seized that opportunity around the neck. On a somewhat-related-but-not-really note, would anybody be interested in character playlists? I had so much fun with my general playlist I'm thinking about making a couple more. Who would you want to see? Lucy, Cedric, Henry, Harry, George, Hermione? Anyone else?

And... ugh, I hate that I have to write this. I regret all of my life decisions. But this is your ten-day warning. I recommend taking the next ten days to prepare yourself for the third task chapter, which will be posted next Saturday. (If I posted it at midnight PST, would anybody read it? Or should I wait until, like, 7:00 PST? Let me know!)

Anywaaayyy, I hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! And don't forget, take care of yourselves the next ten days, I know I'll be trying to prepare myself for it all.