LUCY:

On the last night of the summer holidays, I found myself trying to finish Wandering with Werewolves far too late into the night. I had read the rest of the booklist already, of course, but given the contents of all of Lockhart's other books, I didn't want to read that one. But it was required reading, and I didn't want to try to read it on the train the next day.

I began to cry when he described the way he pinned the werewolf against the wall of the telephone booth. I wanted to scream that it wasn't the werewolf's fault he was who he was. I cried even harder when he held his wand to the werewolf's neck. I couldn't take it anymore. I slammed the book shut and stared up at the summer stars, blurred though they were by my tears.

The door creaked open slowly. "Lu? What are you still doing up?"

I turned my tear-stained face to Cedric. "Just on time, as always. What are you still doing up?"

"I woke up a few minutes ago and figured I'd make sure my bag was packed when I heard a book slam shut and saw light beneath your door. What's wrong?"

I held the book up. "I waited until the last possible second to read this, and now I know why. I left off with the werewolf cornered in the phone booth. I don't want to read about Lockhart taking care of him the way he 'takes care' of every other monster he fights. Reading this, I know it could just as easily be me in that phone booth."

"Lu, that werewolf did horrible things. You haven't."

"I could," I whispered.

"But you wouldn't. I know you wouldn't."

"You don't know that," I whimpered, sniffling and leaning into his shoulder. I began to cry harder. "I have no control over myself without wolfsbane. Ced, I've known all my life I'm a monster. It was nice this summer to be able to hide in my room when I felt bad and go into the woods knowing I'd come home to see the light on and you sitting on the front porch waiting for me with a glass of water and a smile and a blanket, but going back to school, I won't have that. I'll have to go to class every day regardless of how I feel. I'll be in the Shrieking Shack by myself every month because everyone's scared of me. And on top of that, I'll have a teacher that would kill me if he knew who I was, just like he killed this poor werewolf who didn't know any better!"

He let me cry for several minutes, rubbing his hand up and down my arm wordlessly. "He didn't kill the werewolf, Lu," he said after a moment. "He used a homorphus charm to turn him back into a man."

I sniffled. "That's a nearly impossible charm. How did he manage?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Probably both luck and skill. Don't finish reading the book, Lu. It's not good for you."

"Okay," I said softly, burying my face against Cedric's chest. "Thank you for coming to check on me."

"Of course. It's our last night here until Christmas. I wanted to do what I could to help."

"You're the best," I murmured, my eyes sinking shut.

"To quote Henry every time I tell him that, 'I try to be, but I think you're the best.'" I could hear the smile in his voice as he scooped me up and carried me to my bed. He tucked a blanket around me and blew out the candles. "Good night, Lu. Love you."

"Good night, Ced," I replied. "Love you too."

He smiled and shut the door softly. I heaved one more shuddering sigh and fell asleep.

I didn't need to hold Cedric's hand to enter the platform that year, though I did let him go first. I scanned the crowd for any tall redheads, but I couldn't see them, and Cedric couldn't either. He spotted Henry right away though, and was careful to make sure I followed him, after the Knockturn Alley incident. I spotted Hermione after a couple of minutes, and darted over to her.

"Lucy! Hi!" she squealed, throwing her arms around me. I hugged back, and followed her onto the train as she spoke rapidly about the books she had read this summer. My mind was somewhat distant though, and my eyes kept wandering to the window, where I hoped to see the Weasleys and Harry any moment. 10:55 passed, then 10:56. Hermione followed my gaze and frowned. "I sure hope they don't miss the train."

"They won't," I said, though if it was to myself or to her I cannot say. 10:57. "Not with Percy as prefect."

As soon as the words left my mouth, Percy burst through the barrier, looking rather frazzled. 10:58. The twins, Ginny, and their parents soon followed. But Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen.

"You don't suppose they're ill, do you?" Hermione asked, now looking as worried as I felt.

"I slept over two nights ago, and they were all alright," I said. "Mrs. Weasley looks worried, too. Where are they?"

"Lucy!" a voice exclaimed at the door. Ginny Weasley hurried in, all red hair and red cheeks. "Thank Merlin you still have seats, practically everywhere else was full. We were almost late! Is it okay if I sit here? Fred and George were the last two to fit in their car. Will Harry come sit with you? They said he would but he's not here yet."

"Of course, you can sit next to me. And yeah, he and Ron would both be here, but I... I don't see them yet. Did they make it through the-"

The train lurched forward out of the station, giving me my answer. My stomach dropped to my toes. Hermione and I both pressed our faces to the window, but the boys were nowhere to be seen. They had missed the train.

"That's odd," Ginny commented, fanning herself with her hand. "They were right behind us. Maybe one of them forgot something in the car."

"Maybe," I said, anxiety gripping me. We watched out the window until the station disappeared entirely. No Harry. No Ron. Hermione and I settled back against our seats, sharing a worried glance.

"I'm assuming they'll just owl the school," Hermione suggested, taking a book from her bag and trying to appear nonchalant. "Nothing we can do to help."

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, turning to me. "Do you have any more Quidditch magazines to look at?"

I smiled and nodded. "You bet. Let's take a look."

After about two hours of talking Quidditch, my late night caught up with me. Ginny left to go talk to Fred and George and look for Harry while I curled up in the corner of the car and closed my eyes, dropping off into a deep sleep. I was interrupted some time later by a knock at the door. Rather than Ginny, however, Draco Malfoy was peering through the window with a scowl on his face.

He opened the door and stepped inside, Crabbe and Goyle just behind him. "Where's Potter?" he inquired, glancing from me to Hermione and back to me. "Too big and important to sit with the likes of you two?"

"What does it matter to you?" Hermione snapped, not even looking up from her book.

"It doesn't," he insisted quickly, "I'm just curious. It would seem his fame has gotten to his scarred head. Funny. You'd think he'd like spending time with you, Diggory, with your face."

I grabbed my wand and pointed it at him lazily. "Leave us alone, Draco, or I'll decorate your face to match."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "You wouldn't. You're cowardly, for a Gryffindor." But despite his confidence in my cowardice, he turned around and left, slamming the door behind him.

I yawned. "I've had some rude awakenings in my day, but waking up to his face has got to be among the worst."

Hermione was so engrossed in her book all I got was an "Mhm" in response. I reached up to grab my robes to change into, ducking through the hallway until I reached the bathroom. I changed quickly and decided to pay Cedric a quick visit.

His car was full to the brim with Hufflepuffs, though I spied Archie and Cam in the mix as well. My brother and Henry waved me inside, pointing to the massive Exploding Snap game happening in the center.

"Join in, Lucy!" Henry called. I tried to protest, saying I wasn't any good, but he shook his head and pulled me down between him and Cedric anyway. Despite my lack of confidence, I held up pretty well. To my surprise, some of the Hufflepuffs were just as --- if not more --- competitive than Archie and Cam. I stayed there far longer than I originally intended, making my way back to Hermione's car only ten minutes before we arrived at the school.

Hermione and I crammed into a thestral-drawn carriage with Archie and Cam, Neville squeezing in at the last possible second.

"Hi, Hermione! Hi, Lucy!" he said, clutching tightly to Trevor. "Say, where are Harry and Ron?"

"We don't know," we said in unison.

"Oh." Whatever answer he had been expecting, it wasn't that one. "Did they miss the train?"

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure they'll turn up," she said, though she didn't sound convinced.

The thestrals carried us dutifully to the castle. When we climbed out, I reached up to pet the skeletal horse before catching up with the twins.

"Excited to see your sister get sorted?" I asked.

They nodded. "Gryffindor, no doubt," Fred said.

"Bet the Sorting Hat will be relieved," George quipped. "Last Weasley until Bill has a kid. After sorting seven of us kids, it finally gets a decade or so off."

I laughed as I took my typical seat between the two of them. Without Harry and Ron, Hermione found herself between Neville and Seamus Finnigan. She looked less than thrilled, but she still had her book from the train, so she busied herself by reading it under the table while we waited for the first years to enter.

As they did, I scanned the wave for Ginny's fiery red hair. She found my eyes quickly, and I shot her an encouraging thumbs-up. She replied in kind before fixing her eyes upon the Sorting Hat. The seam ripped open, and it sang its annual song. We all clapped politely, and the Sorting began.

I'll admit I was still fairly tired from my late night, so I didn't pay nuch attention until I heard Ginny's name. As expected, she was Gryffindor, and she slid in between George and me at the table as the feast began.

Rumors coursed up and down the table about the missing boys, but I paid them no mind. Ginny was bursting with questions, and her brothers and I answered them as best we could. Her eyes positively shone all night long; she was clearly thrilled to finally be at Hogwarts like all of her brothers before her.

But I was still immensely worried for the boys. I saw Professor McGonagall leave the feast briefly, along with Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape, but none of them said anything about Ron or Harry. When we headed up to the common room, I found myself praying they'd somehow be waiting on the couch, waiting to tease me for being so worried, but they were nowhere to be seen.

The rumors picked up speed. Something about a flying car. The twins and I exchanged a glance. It was entirely plausible.

Some people began to head up to their dormitories, but a fair amount remained to see if Harry and Ron would show up. When the portrait hole finally swung open to reveal the two of them, looking worse for wear but undoubtedly alive, I sprinted over to hug them as those left in the common room cheered.

"Bloody hell, Lucy, where'd that come from?" Ron asked, looking quite red all of a sudden.

"Sorry, I'm just so glad you're safe," I sighed in relief. "I was so worried."

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "We couldn't get onto the platform, so we took the flying car."

"Fill me in tomorrow?" I asked, spying a very-angry Percy approaching the pair. Harry followed my gaze and nodded.

"Tomorrow. Good night!"

After the boys disappeared into the crowd, I headed up to my dormitory to tell the others what had happened.

Hermione clucked disapprovingly. "They got rather lucky, didn't they?"

I laughed. "Don't we always?"

Hermione and I arrived early to the Great Hall, eager to see what our schedule would look like. I could tell she was still mad at Ron and Harry, but I was just relieved to see them alive, so I greeted them much more warmly than Hermione's flat "Morning."

"Which one are you reading, Hermione?" Neville asked as he sat next to Harry. "They're all brilliant."

"Voyages with Vampires," she said, holding it up so he could see the cover. "It's probably my favorite."

"Mine would be Wanderings with Werewolves," Neville replied. "Have you read it, Lucy?"

Hermione stiffened next to me. I nodded. "I stayed up too late trying to read it on the last night of summer, which is why I was so tired on the train yesterday."

"I think I left it at home by accident," he said, blushing slightly. "But mail's due any minute, and Gran always sends whatever I forget." He turned to Ron and Harry. "Have you two read Wanderings with Werewolves yet?"

They shook their heads.

"Oh, it's terribly exciting!" Dean gushed as he and Seamus sat next to me. "He saved a village from a werewolf by-"

Before he could go on, the mail arrived. Being the first day of term, the delivery was more chaotic than usual as dozens upon dozens of owls poured into the room. Neville's book bounced off his head, and he yelped. A grey mass of feathers collapsed into Hermione's jug, and she ducked behind her book to stop the milk from spraying all over her. I reached forward and gently extracted the owl.

"Errol!" Ron gasped. His face blanched when he saw the red envelope his owl carried. "Oh no..."

"It's alright," Hermione assured him, "he's still alive. Just a rough landing."

"I don't think he's worried about Errol," I said slowly, taking the owl onto my lap and handing the envelope to Ron. Neville and I exchanged a worried glance.

Neville swallowed hard. "You'd better open it, Ron, it'll be worse if you don't. My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and... it was horrible."

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"It's a Howler," Seamus answered.

Dean backed away slightly. "What's a Howler? I'm guessing it's bad since you all look like you expect it to attack you, but-"

It started smoking at the corners.

"Cover your ears!" I shouted as Ron slit the envelope. I pressed my hands over the unconscious Errol's ears instead as the shrieks of Mrs. Weasley filled the Hall.

"-STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE! WHEN WE RECEIVED A LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME! WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED! ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

The envelope burst into flames, and the Hall was silent for a moment before a wave of giggles and whispers filled the room again.

"I didn't believe Fred and George when they said your mum got mad sometimes," I admitted with a breathy laugh. "Are you alright?"

Hermione snapped her book shut as he managed a weak nod. "Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you-"

"Don't tell me I deserved it."

Harry pushed his porridge away. He didn't look angry, necessarily, but his face took on a slightly green tinge. I nudged his shin with my foot and raised my eyebrows in a silent gesture of "You okay?" when his stormy eyes met mine. He shook his head and turned to accept his schedule from Professor McGonagall.

Hermione, seemingly satisfied with Mrs. Weasley's Howler, was incredibly talkative as we headed down to the greenhouses for double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. Professor Sprout was a little late, carrying masses of bandages and her robes full of dirt. I glanced over toward the Whomping Willow, which I regarded now equal parts guardian and menace. Many branches were resting in slings. I found myself wondering where I would have to transform that month, but my thoughts were interrupted by arrival of Gilderoy Lockhart alongside the professor. I backed up a couple steps involuntarily, the account of his werewolf encounter lingering in the back of my mind. Hermione started to turn to me to see what was wrong, but she whirled back to face her idol when he spoke.

"Oh, hello there! Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels-"

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" Professor Sprout interrupted. I bit back a snicker at the offended expression that flickered across Lockhart's face as we turned to follow her, his spell over us broken. Harry and I were almost to the door when he was yanked backward.

"Harry! I've been wanting a word! You don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?" Without waiting for an answer, he flashed a grin her way. "That's the ticket!" He practically shoved me inside and slammed the door before Professor Sprout could protest. Harry sent one last despairing glance my way before he had to follow the turquoise-robed man.

I turned to Professor Sprout. "I've never been a fan of turquoise, myself. I've been told it clashes with my eyes. Wouldn't you agree sky blue is a much prettier shade?"

She chuckled and laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I'd have to agree, Miss Diggory. Run along with Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, now, and be sure to save a spot for Harry. We'll be working in groups of four today, and while I hope it really is just a 'couple of minutes,' I have a feeling it'll be a bit longer."

I grinned and nodded, hurrying over to the others while Professor Sprout put the bandages away.

Surprisingly true to his word, Lockhart really did keep Harry only a couple of minutes, and he slipped into the greenhouse just as the lesson began.

"We'll be repotting Mandrakes today," she said as she pulled her gloves on. "Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

Neville and I exchanged a smile as Hermione's hand shot into the air.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative. It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor. The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it."

"Precisely. Take another ten points. Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young. Still, everyone should take a pair of earmuffs."

I got stuck with a pink fluffy pair that tickled my cheeks. I turned to Harry, who still looked quite upset between the Howler and the Lockhart, and held my ear muffs out, eyeing his sleek black pair with the most dramatic wistful look I could muster. "Want to trade, Harry? I think pink is more your color than mine."

He rolled his eyes and smiled. "I'm fine, but thanks for the offer."

"If you're sure," I sighed.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered. When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right, earmuffs on!"

We all secured ours over our ears as she plunged her hands into the soil to grab the first Mandrake. It was bigger than it had been in June, now looking like a newborn baby rather than just a seedling. My heart twisted slightly as it wailed, though I couldn't hear it. It looked enough like a baby to have my sympathy. When he was once again submerged in soil, Professor Sprout gave us the thumbs-up and we took our earmuffs off.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet. However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up. Four to a tray. There is a large supply of pots here, compost in the sacks over there, and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething." She swatted it away, and it retreated slowly.

I shuddered. "I wasn't watching where I was going once when I was helping Mum in the garden and it grabbed me by the ankle. She was able to get off a severing charm pretty quickly, but I had nightmares of being strangled for weeks."

"And that's not the worst of it!" Neville declared from the tray across from us. "Its bite is highly poisonous, too!"

He was working with Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Justin turned to see who Neville was talking to, and his face lit up.

He reached forward to shake Harry's hand. "Don't think we've ever officially met, Harry, but I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley. Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter." He turned to the rest of us and shook our hands too. "And you're Hermione Granger, always top in everything, and Lucy Diggory, Cedric's sister, and Ron Weasley. Wasn't that your flying car?"

Ron nodded, looking rather glum still after the Howler.

Justin didn't seem to notice. "That Lockhart's something, isn't he? Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if Id been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and zap! Just fantastic."

I snapped my earmuffs on and busied myself with the dragon dung compost as he kept talking. Soon enough, everyone else's earmuffs were on too, and we set to work. Planting babies was far harder than planting seeds, I learned. All four of us had to work together on a particularly chunky one, who absolutely refused to fit into the pot.

As soon as we were allowed to take our earmuffs off, I dragged the sleeve of my robe across my face. They had been so itchy.

Ron laughed for the first time that day. "Lucy, you just got dirt all over your face."

I reached forward before he could react and rubbed part of my sleeve against his freckled nose. "Well, now you've got dirt all over your nose, so I guess we both need to wash up now."

He turned red, but smiled. "I guess so."

We hurried up to the castle for a quick wash before Transfiguration. Hermione and I were among the only successful students in class. Ron appeared to have broken his wand in the Whomping Willow incident, so a foul-smelling smoke hung around him and Harry for the better part of the lesson. Hermione showed off her buttons during lunch, which didn't help.

"What've we got this afternoon?" Harry asked.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione read off her schedule.

I wrinkled my nose. "Wonderful."

Since she didn't happen to be looking at my face, she missed my sarcasm.

Fred and George settled on either side of me then.

"Why the face, Cub?"

"Do you smell that, too?"

I glanced toward Ron, who turned red and closed the flap of his bag over his smoking wand.

"I don't smell anything," I lied, biting back a grin at the relief on Ron's face. "Just thinking about the fact that I have Lockhart next."

Fred laughed. "You're probably the only witch at this school not looking forward to having to see his perfect face-"

"-and perfect teeth," George added.

"-and perfect robes-"

"-and perfect hair-"

"-for several hours every week."

Ron reached over and snatched Hermione's schedule. "Why have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione blushed bright red as the twins roared with laughter. George clapped my shoulder. "See, Cub?"

I rolled my eyes, laughing too. "No offense, Hermione," I said, "nothing against him, turquoise just isn't my color."

She snorted and took a bite of her sandwich. Once we were done eating, Hermione rose to her feet. "I'm going to go get some fresh air. Would anyone like to go with me?"

"Sure," I said with a shrug, also standing. "Catch you two tonight?" I asked the twins.

"Assuming you survive your Lockhart lesson, you bet," Fred said with a smirk.

"In that case, this is farewell forever," I retorted. I ruffled George's hair on the way out. Hermione got Voyages with Vampires back out as Harry and Ron talked about Quidditch. I spied Cedric across the way reading by himself, so I headed over to talk to him.

"Magical Me by the one and only Gilderoy Lockhart?" I asked, wrinkling my nose again as I read the cover. "Wouldn't you rather read something interesting, like a list of everything Professor Snape has ever eaten for breakfast?"

He laughed slightly. "I heard that his first class has a quiz all about him, sao I figured I might as well, er, study," he replied with a somewhat pained expression.

"I have him next," I sighed, spinning my wand in a circle. "I want to try to sit next to Hermione. It should be funny. She's obsessed with him. Fred said I'm probably the only witch in school who hasn't fallen head over heels for him."

"He is rather impressive," Cedric said.

"Yeah, I know, it's probably why he was hired. I just don't like... well, how he handles things. And well, he said that the homorphus charm permanently cured the werewolf, which it doesn't. If it did, wouldn't there be no more werewolves?"

Cedric pursed his lips. "I've never thought about that. He does say it's incredibly difficult to master-"

"But surely someone would have mastered it by now. And if he really was the only one, why isn't he walking around saving people every full moon? Sorry," I relented, "I just... something doesn't sit right with me."

"No need to apologize, you definitely have a point," he said. He lowered his voice. "Just be careful this year, alright, Lu? I don't want him trying to, well, 'fix' you."

Before I could reply, Draco Malfoy's voice cut through the courtyard. "Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?" Satisfied when everyone's heads turned toward him, he cackled. "Everyone line up! Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"I should go," I muttered to Cedric, jumping to my feet and rushing over to the scene.

"Oh, Potter, you've got a customer!" Draco crowed. "She's running, she's so excited!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry and I said in unison.

"You're just jealous!" a small boy I recognized from the Sorting as Colin Creevey said.

Draco snorted. "Jealous? Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

"Neither does being a Malfoy, but here you are anyway, acting like you own the school," I retorted.

"Eat slugs, Malfoy," Ron snarled, hand going toward his wand. I slowly and subtly reached for mine too when Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle began to clench their fists.

"Be careful, Weasley. You don't want to start any trouble or your Mommy'll have to come and take you away from school. 'If you put another toe out of line!'" A lot of people laughed at this as Ron and Harry both flushed furiously. "Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter, it'd be worth more than his family's whole house-"

Ron whipped his wand out, but before he could fire off a spell, a voice that was already getting on my nerves interrupted. "What's all this, what's all this? Who's giving out signed photos?" Gilderoy Lockhart floated past me to get to Harry and threw an arm around him. "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!"

Draco smirked and retreated into the crowd, but not before I fixed him with my best glare and made a point of lowering my hand from my wand. He seemed to get the message; his smirk faltered ever so slightly, and he turned and walked away.

"Come on then, Mr. Creevey. A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll both sign it for you. Oh, you there!" He took the camera from Colin and shoved it into my hands. "Come get in the picture, Mr. Creevey, while she takes it."

I masked my gritted teeth with a smile and snapped the picture as the bell rang. Colin snatched the camera from me, shaking with excitement, and darted off to class.

"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart said to the courtyard. He looked at me when I started to follow him and Harry. "You can go, too."

"I'm going to your class next, sir," I replied, trying to flash my best smile. Truthfully, I didn't want Harry to have to be alone with him again, and Ron and Hermione had already scrambled away. "Would it be alright if I walked with you and Harry? You're both wonderful, after all."

As I had hoped, my flattery appealed to him. "Oh, very well. You wouldn't mind if I spoke to Harry, though, would you?"

"Oh, of course not, Professor Lockhart," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder as we started walking to his class. I wiggled in between them, shaking his arm off of Harry, and clung onto Harry's arm. "Just pretend I'm not here."

Harry seemed to be trying very hard not to laugh at my antics, but Lockhart was --- thankfully --- completely oblivious. "A word to the wise, Harry. I covered up for you back there with young Creevey. If he was photographing me, too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourself up so much. Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible; looks a tad bigheaded, Harry, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but I don't think you're quite there yet."

Lockhart had taken a shortcut, so Harry and I were the first to class. We took seats at the back of the room and busied ourselves with our massive stack of books. When the rest of the class came filing in, Ron and Hermione came over. I surrendered my seat to Ron when Hermione dragged me up to sit next to her at the front of the room.

"I don't know what you were thinking, coming up with Lockhart," she whispered. "It looked like he had something important and private to say to Harry!"

"Exactly," I replied, fighting the urge to roll my eyes for the umpteenth time that day.

She opened her mouth to defend Lockhart, but he spoke first, and she snapped to attention. He grabbed poor Neville's Travels with Trolls and pointed to his beaming face on the cover. "Me! Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" He paused, as if expecting applause, but no one even huffed a laugh. He cleared his throat and continued, "I see you've all bought a complete set of my books; well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about, just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in-"

I bit back a groan. Cedric was right. I bit back a sigh as well once I actually saw the test.

Question 1. "What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?"

I resisted the urge to just crumple up the parchment and throw it at his face. I was a Chaser, I knew I could hit it, and hard. I didn't even know my own favorite color. I scribbled down "lilac," thinking I remembered him mentioning that, and moved onto the next question.

Question 2. "What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?"

As much as I wanted to write "to make a complete arse of himself... oh wait, he already has," I wracked my brain for the real answer. Hermione was scribbling feverishly next to me; she had clearly memorized every word of his books. I wrote down the best answer I could manage and proceeded through the rest of the test. Hermione was the only person to get a perfect score, but Lockhart informed me with a wink that I had only missed one question and that I would be an expert in no time.

"Great," I managed weakly, feeling myself turn red from head to toe. Seamus and Dean snorted behind me, but Lockhart paid them no mind.

"To business!" he declared, lifting a massive cage onto his desk. "Now, be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm. I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them."

I reached slowly for my wand as he yanked the covering off, expecting something terrible. But instead, we were met by the unmistakable blue of Cornish pixies.

"Does anyone know what these are?" he asked, sweeping the room.

Hermione's hand shot up. "Those are Cornish pixies, Professor."

"Correct! But not just any Cornish pixies, freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Behind me, Seamus and Dean snorted much louder, and Lockhart heard them that time. "Yes, boys?"

"Well," Seamus replied, attempting to reign in his laughter, "they're not exactly dangerous, are they?"

"Don't be so sure! Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

I turned my head toward the boys and shook my head ever so slightly. "Not dangerous," I mouthed. "Just annoying."

But Lockhart wasn't done. "Let's see what you make of them!" he announced, opening the cage with a flourish.

"No!" I shouted, whipping my wand out. "They'll wreck the classroom!"

It was too late. The bright blue pixies flooded the room. They flew out the windows, smashed ink bottles, even grabbed Neville by the ears.

"Come on, now, round them up!" Lockhart yelled over the chaos. "They're only pixies!"

I launched myself onto the desk nearest Neville's dangling form and shot two immobilizing spells at the pixies that clutched his ears. He dropped to the desk, touching the bloody tips of his ears. "Thanks, Lucy," he choked out. "That hurt."

"No problem," I said quickly, straightening back up to survey the damage. Lockhart lifted his wand to the sky and shouted, "Peskipiksi pesternomi!", but nothing happened. A pixie snatched his wand and chucked it out the window. "That's not even a real spell, as far as I know," I muttered to Neville. "But this is. Episkey!"

The wounds on his ears healed instantly. He sighed in relief. The bell rang over the sound of screams. "Thank you. Much better."

"Of course. Now you should probably leave with, well, everyone else." It was true. More than half of the class had left the room in a frenzied panic. Neville nodded and joined the rush toward the door. I shot off as many immobilizing charms as I could.

"Well, since you four seem to have it under control," Lockhart said, straightening his robes, "I'll ask you to nip the rest of them back in this cage." Before we could protest, he was gone.

A pixie latched itself onto Ron's ear. "Can you believe him?" he asked, yanking it off his ear.

"Episkey!" I said, pointing the wand his direction before I immobilized more pixies.

Hermione was again quick to defend Lockhart. "He just wants to give us some hands-on experience." She immobilized two at once and shoved them into their cage.

Harry snorted. "Hands on? Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing-"

"Rubbish. You've read his books. Look at all those amazing things he's done!"

"He says he's done," Ron pointed out.

I bent down to pick up the frozen pixies that littered the floor and tossed them one by one to Harry, who stuffed them in the cage. Harry sighed. "How are we going to get the ones outside?"

"They'll probably go to the magical creatures reserve," I replied. "That's probably where Lockhart got them all anyway. I'll check with Hagrid tomorrow to make sure." I echoed Harry's sigh. "Has anyone actually ever heard of that spell he tried to use?"

"He probably learned it on one of his adventures," Hermione said, slamming the cage shut and gathering her belongings. "The pixie launched his wand out of the window before it had time to work."

"I'm going to ask Professor Flitwick tomorrow if he's ever heard of it, just the same. If anyone would know it, it would be him."

When the Charms professor laughed and asked me to repeat the incantation the next day, my suspicions were confirmed. No such spell existed.

I knew that Oliver Wood's leadership style would be different from Skye's. But having to wake up at the crack of dawn was the first unpleasant change.

I changed quickly into my Quidditch robes and hurried down the stairs. Oliver was already in the common room, just about to leave through the portrait hole.

"Good morning, lass!" he chirped. "Glad to see someone starting so strong!"

I smiled and shouldered my broom. "I just can't wait to get on my new broom."

His eyes bugged out of his head. "New broom?"

"Oh blimey, I guess I forgot to tell you. Yeah, I have a Nimbus 2001 prototype. It was delivered just last night, right to my dormitory window."

He pelted me with questions as we made our way down to the Pitch. We were the first two there, followed soon by the sleepy twins and the exhausted Angelina and Alicia. Harry arrived last, looking incredibly annoyed.

"Didn't realize Lockhart was a morning person," I quipped.

He grinned ruefully. "It was Colin Creevey this time."

Oliver hurried over, dragging a blackboard with him. "There you are, Harry, what kept you? Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the field, as your new captain, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program, which I really think will make all the difference!"

And so began his discussion, vibrantly illustrated with arrows that danced across the board. At one point, Fred's head sank onto my shoulder, and I could have sworn he was snoring. I propped him up as best I could so it at least looked like he was awake. As soon as I did, George drooped onto my other shoulder, so I had to prop him up too. I wished for my wand; a good old-fashioned tickling spell would wake them up in no time.

They jerked awake with a start as soon as he finished. "So! Is that clear? Any questions?"

George forced away a yawn. "I've got a question, Oliver. Why couldn't you have told us all this yesterday when we were awake?"

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm the captain now, and I intend to make Skye proud. We got lucky last year --- no offense, Lucy, but we all know Harry is the better Seeker --- so this year, we train harder than ever before. Any other relevant questions?"

"Not sure if this is relevant," I said reluctantly, offering a shy grin, "but will you teach me that spell sometime? The one you used on the board?"

"Of course, of course," he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Assuming we have no other questions, let's go and put our new theories into practice!"

"Nimbus 2001 time!" I cheered, jumping up and eagerly following Oliver onto the Pitch. I kicked up into the sky and took a couple of practice laps. The sun had fully risen, but a couple small patches of mist lingered over the field. I inhaled the cool morning air and exhaled with a stupidly big smile on my face. Harry flew up next to me, also smiling and looking much more awake now that he was in the sky.

"Race you, Diggory!"

"You're on, Potter!"

Fred and George hopped in halfway through our first lap, laughing at how seriously Harry and I were taking the race.

On our second lap, I saw Ron and Hermione watching in the stands, and I was startled by the flash of Colin Creevey's camera. "Look this way, Harry! This way!" he called.

"You might want to watch me instead, Colin!" I shouted back, blocking Harry from view temporarily as I shot forward.

"Oh no you don't," Harry laughed, trying to catch back up. "You're my shield from the camera."

"I saved you from Lockhart already, Colin is nothing compared to him!" With that, I gave the broom everything I had and reached a speed I'd never achieved on any broom before.

Oliver was less-than-amused by Colin's presence. "What's going on? Why's that first year taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy, trying to find out about our new training program."

"He's in Gryffindor," I said as the other three flew up behind me. "He's just a fan of Harry's."

George groaned. "And the Slytherins don't need a spy, Oliver."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because they're here in person."

Surely enough, an army clad in green robes marched onto the field. I scanned them. I didn't see any girls, but I did see unmistakable white-blond hair. Frustration clenched in my gut. Of course Malfoy had wormed his way onto the team.

Our new captain looked fit to explode. "I don't believe it! I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!"

He shot off toward the ground, the rest of the team following in his angry wake.

He landed hard, but still stomped up to the Slytherin captain, who wore a cruel smirk on his face. "Flint! This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

"Plenty of room for all of us, Wood," he said coolly.

"But I booked the field! I booked it!"

"Ah, but I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

Oliver seemed stunned. "You've got a new Seeker? Where?"

When Draco stepped forward, smug as ever, I slapped my palm to my forehead. Of course Draco was Seeker of all things.

Fred looked toward me, then turned to Draco. "Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?"

Marcus Flint chuckled. "Funny you should mention Draco's father. Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team." They all presented their brooms. Nimbus 2001s. "Very latest model. Only came out last month. I believe it outstrips the old 2000 series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps, sweeps the board with them."

"But when I was in Diagon Alley, the clerk told me the 2001 hadn't come out yet," I stammered, holding my broom in front of me.

"We've got connections," Flint said with a shrug and a smirk.

"Cute broom, though, Diggory." Draco's eyes were alight with a cocky fire. "Cuter than-"

"Oh look, a field invasion," Flint nodded over our shoulders, and we turned to see Ron and Hermione heading over to see what was going on.

"What's happening? Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?" Ron asked, glaring at Malfoy.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team. Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

I glanced toward Fred and George with concern, but they stared only at Draco, jaws and fists clenched.

Hermione stepped forward. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent."

Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."

I instantly jumped in front of Hermione as chaos unfolded around us. The twins dropped their brooms and lunged for Draco, but his teammates were quick to stop them. Angelina and Alicia both screamed "How dare you!" and tried to wrestle the Slytherin team off of Fred and George. I reached for a wand I didn't have; Ron drew his, though, and leveled it at Draco, whose eyes were wide with fear.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" he shouted, and a green light filled the stadium, shooting Ron backward.

Hermione, Harry, and I raced over to him.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" Hermione asked, helping him sit up.

His only response was a massive burp that spewed slugs all over the grass. The Slytherins immediately erupted into laughter.

"Wand please, Hermione," I said calmly as the rest of the Gryffindor team crowded around us. She handed it to me with a shaking hand, and I fired a silencing spell at the Slytherin team. They didn't seem to notice or care, as they were all still twitching with their silent laughter, but at least Ron couldn't hear their laughter. I handed Hermione's wand back to her. "Thank you, very helpful. Let's get him to Hagrid's, it's closest."

Harry and Hermione nodded, and we all helped hoist him to his feet. The Gryffindor team parted to let us through, and none other than Colin Creevey caught up to us.

"What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?"

Ron retched, and more slugs poured from his mouth. Colin lifted his camera, looking both mortified and fascinated. "Oooh! Can you hold him still, Harry?"

"Not the best time, Colin, sorry," I said, trying to figure out how to get rid of him. "Would you like to help Harry, though? We have something else you could do."

"Of course!" he exclaimed, as Harry muttered, "We do?"

"We left our brooms on the Pitch. Would you mind making sure Fred and George put them in our lockers?"

"I can do that!"

"Great! Thanks, Colin!" I called after him as he raced away.

"Good thinking, Lucy," Harry said with a sigh. "He refuses to leave me alone."

"This world is brand new to him," I explained, "and he's going to school with a celebrity. Just try to be patient with him. He doesn't seem to have made friends yet."

Ron belched again, spewing more slugs, and Harry laughed. "My thoughts exactly, Ron."

Hermione rolled her eyes at us. "Nearly there, Ron. You'll be all right in a minute, we're almost there-"

The front door opened, and, of course, Gilderoy Lockhart strolled out.

"Quick, behind here," Harry hissed, pulling us all behind a bush.

Ron heaved again, and it was my turn to laugh. "I couldn't agree more, Ron. Just hang on, he'll be gone soon."

Lockhart's voice carried unfortunately well. "It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing! If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't already got one, I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, good-bye!"

Harry and I exchanged an eye roll before helping Ron back to his feet. Hermione knocked urgently, and poor Hagrid looked upset when he opened the door until he saw it was us.

"Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me, 'cept you, Lucy, saw yeh yesterday. Come in, come in, thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again."

"Ron's wand backfired and he won't stop vomiting slugs," Harry explained as we lowered Ron into a chair.

Hagrid set a bucket in front of him. "Better out than in. Get 'em all up, Ron."

Hermione wrung her hands as she watched. "I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop. That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand..."

"I don't think there's a counter-curse in the book Cedric got me for my birthday," I mused, "otherwise I'd try it."

"Hermione, how long has she had that book?" Ron asked hoarsely, grinning slightly despite the greenness of his face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said slowly.

"If she got it for her birthday-" he started, but he burped again and ducked back over the tub.

"Don't worry about it," I said with a sigh. "What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?"

"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well, like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

I laughed in surprise, and I laughed even harder when I saw the same surprise written all over Harry's face. Hagrid never spoke about staff that way, not even Snape.

Hermione was not at all amused. "I think you're being a bit unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job-"

"He was the on'y man for the job, an' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me," Hagrid said as he set a plate of treacle tart down beside us, "who was he tryin' ter curse?"

"Malfoy called Hermione something," Harry said, "and it must've been really bad, because everyone went wild."

Ron lifted his head again. "Malfoy called her 'Mudblood,' Hagrid-" He ducked back down, and Hagrid's face became the picture of rage.

"He didn'!"

I nodded. "He did. Fred and George would have killed him if his team hadn't protected him. I would have liked to hit him with a spell myself, but I don't keep my wand in these robes."

"I don't know what it means," Hermione said softly. "I could tell it was really rude, of course, but I don't know why-"

Ron came back up. "It's about the most insulting thing he could think of. Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born. You know, nonmagic parents. There are some wizards, like Malfoy's family, who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood. I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville Longbottom, he's pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up."

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," Hagrid said, clapping her so hard on the shoulder she lurched forward and nearly fell.

"It's horrible," I said, reaching forward to lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "And it's a dangerous way to think."

"Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway," Ron explained. "If we hadn't married Muggles we'd've died out a long time ago."

"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron. Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble. And as fer you, Lucy, well, I heard from Ginny Weasley yesterday after you left that you know a fair few mischievous spells. You may yet have yer chance." Hagrid sat up suddenly and looked at Harry, chuckling. "Harry, gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

Harry's face contorted in irritation. "I have not been giving out signed photos! If Lockhart's still spreading that around-"

Hagrid patted him on the back and sent him face-first into the table. "I'm on'y jokin'. I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

Harry sat up and fixed his glasses, smiling a bit now. "Bet he didn't like that."

"Don' think he did. An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go." Ron reappeared again and wiped his mouth. "Treacle fudge, Ron?"

"No thanks, better not risk it."

We sat in comfortable silence for a couple moments before Hagrid said, "Come an' see what I've bin growin'."

"Oh, the pumpkins!" I exclaimed, hurrying outside. They had all grown to the size of a boulder. "Whoa."

Hagrid seemed pleased with my reaction. "Gettin' on well, aren't they? Fer the Halloween feast; should be big enough by then."

"What've you been feeding them?" Harry asked.

Hagrid shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I've bin givin' them, you know, a bit o' help."

Hermione sounded torn between pride and disappointment. "An Engorgement Charm, I suppose? Well, you've done a good job on them."

"That's what yer little sister said, Ron. Met her jus' yesterday. Said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house." Hagrid nudged Harry. "If yeh ask me, she wouldn' say no ter a signed-"

"Oh, shut up," Harry sighed, grinning nonetheless. Ron sputtered slugs when he laughed, and Hagrid yanked him away from the pumpkins. We headed back up to the castle shortly after that, Ron feeling somewhat better. We had barely made it to the castle when we were stopped by Professor McGonagall.

"There you are, Potter, Weasley. You will both do your detentions this evening."

"What're we doing, Professor?" Ron asked.

"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch, and no magic, Weasley. Elbow grease. And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail."

Harry sounded almost panicked. "Oh n- Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?"

"Certainly not. Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

I tried to cheer them up as we entered the Great Hall, but both felt they had the harsher punishment. After lunch, we made our way up to the common room, but we hadn't quite made it when we ran into the twins.

"There you are, Cub!" George called. "And hey Ron, how are you feeling?"

"Not great," he said miserably. "First slugs, now detention with Filch tonight polishing cups."

"Just be careful not to puke slugs all over them and you'll be fine," Fred said. "Anyway, Cub, we're ready to start our, ah, project, if you are."

I cocked my head. "Starting on the haunted house already?"

"Yeah." He winked, and I suddenly understood. Wandless magic.

I nodded excitedly. "I've been waiting for this. Let's go. Catch up with you three later!" I called over my shoulder as the twins whisked me away. We hurried to our favorite abandoned classroom and closed the door behind us. George grabbed three feathers from his robes pocket. He explained that he grabbed them from Charms, and figured that wingardium leviosa would probably be a good place to start. Fred and I agreed, and while we spent several hours in the classroom, trying to levitate the feathers without wands, the only time a feather moved was when Fred sneezed and sent all three flying off the desk.

"Don't look so discouraged, Cub," George said as we headed down to the Great Hall for dinner, completely unsuccessful. "There's a reason practically nobody can do wandless magic."

"It would have come in handy against Malfoy earlier," I protested. "I really wanted to hex him."

"The silencing charm was perfect," he assured me. "They looked so ridiculous, but they couldn't actually complain about it to a teacher since it was harmless."

"If Ron had actually made Draco burp slugs, we might have all gotten in trouble," Fred added.

I raised my eyebrows. "You two, glad you didn't get in trouble? Who are you, and what have you done with the Weasley twins?"

"Oh please," George laughed, "we just don't want to give Malfoy the satisfaction of being the one to get us in trouble."

"Fair enough," I replied with a shrug as we entered the Great Hall. "Now we just need to keep Harry and Ron's minds off detention."

"Consider it done," Fred said. "I'm sure they'd love to hear about the prank we have planned for Slytherin as revenge for this morning."

They were right; the boys probably would have forgotten about detention altogether if Hermione hadn't reminded them at 7:55 that they had to go. I wanted to stay up with Fred and George working on wandless magic some more, but they disappeared up the stairs with Lee Jordan a little after eight and didn't reappear again that night. Hermione headed to bed after finishing Voyages with Vampires for what she told me was the third time, leaving me alone in the common room. I tried to read the latest edition of Seeker Weekly, but since I had been awake since dawn, my mind wandered so I wandered to the window instead to stargaze until the boys were back.

Harry came back first, his hands covered in ink and his face completely pale. I wanted to ask if he was okay, because I could tell immediately something was wrong, but I instead hugged my knees to my chest and patted the other half of the window seat.

"The stars are pretty tonight," I said as he settled in across from me. "How was detention?"

He sighed shakily. "You're not going to believe this."

I stared at him, quirking my eyebrows slightly. "Tell me anyway."

Harry looked away and out the window, his glasses glinting as he looked up at the stars. "I heard a voice while I was working with Lockhart. It said something like 'Come, come to me, let me rip you, let me kill you.'"

My blood chilled instantly. "Did Lockhart hear it?"

He shook his head.

"I believe you, Harry," I said softly. "I don't know who or what that was or why you heard it and he didn't, but I believe you."

"Thanks," he replied, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes with his ink-stained fingers.

I quirked a smile. "You just got purple ink all over your face."

"Not purple," he sighed, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Lilac."

"Oh, my bad," I giggled. "Lilac." I paused. "What's your favorite color, Harry?"

"What?"

"I mean, lilac is Lockhart's apparently. What's yours?"

"Um... red?"

"Gryffindor. Good choice."

He shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it, I guess. Red is better than green. What's your favorite color?"

"Not turquoise or lilac," I retorted, rolling my eyes. "Lockhart's ruined those for me. I guess I'd have to say red too, like a good Gryffindor. But I do still love yellow, just don't tell anyone."

"Your secret's safe with me," he chuckled.

Ron climbed in the portrait hole then, clutching his right arm. I brought my legs even closer to my chest to make room for him too. He sighed. "My muscles have all seized up. Fourteen times he made me buff up that Quidditch cup before he was satisfied. And then I had another slug attack all over a Special Award for Services to the School. Took ages to get the slime off. How was it with Lockhart, Harry?"

As Harry recounted the story, Ron's sleepy eyes grew wider and wider. "And Lockhart said he couldn't hear it? D'you think he was lying? But I don't get it, even someone invisible would've had to open the door."

Harry turned to the window again. "I know. I don't get it either."

Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore considered asking Gilderoy Lockhart to perform his famous homorphus charm on a student afflicted with lycanthropy. He entertained the thought with Minerva McGonagall at the staff table the night before the full moon as they watched the girl with the braids trying to act like she didn't feel like she was on fire from the inside out, trying to act like every light and sound and aroma didn't overwhelm her, trying to smile and laugh like everyone around her.

He expected to be chastised by his colleague, as he often was, but the witch actually chuckled as she glanced down the table at the man in question. Poor Professor Sprout next to him was attempting to feign polite interest, but she was no more successful than the small girl at the Gryffindor table. The professors took turns sitting next to him at meals. Dear Gilderoy thought it was because they all wanted to hear about his adventures; the true reason was that none of them could stand to listen to him more than two meals in a row.

"You know, Albus," Minerva said. "Of all the awful ideas you've had over the years, that might just be my favorite."

"A chance to prove himself." A chance to have his ego checked. "A chance to prove all those stories he tells." A chance to possibly rid us of his delightful presence.

"I might actually consider giving my approval if I didn't worry so much for the girl in question," the witch sighed, once again her serious self. "She has seemed happier since arriving here this year. I would hate to rob her of that just to prove a point about Gilderoy. A point she already understands, I hear." The wizard raised his eyebrows in silent question. The witch smiled. "She was ranting about him to the Weasley twins in the hallway the other day. Something about a factual inaccuracy in one of his books that her friend Miss Granger was willing to forgive but she was not."

Albus smiled. "Wise girl."

As they spoke, Lucy Diggory rose from the table and said something quickly to her friends, smiling and waving as she left the room. Minerva and Albus watched her leave in solemn silence. Minerva glanced down the table; Gilderoy Lockhart hadn't noticed a thing. She almost found herself wishing he had.

Twenty-four hours later, Minerva was the one with the misfortune of sitting next to Gilderoy, good old Gilderoy. She noticed that the Weasley twins were sitting with their youngest sister for a change, trying to make her laugh with their nonstop antics. But something seems to be bothering her, and she can see the disappointment on her brothers' faces. Her sharp eyes also catch her brother, Percy, watching the scene intently from his seat between fellow prefects, a look of concern on his face.

The voice of Gilderoy Lockhart, which was quite quickly becoming unbearable, snapped her back into the conversation at hand --- to use the term "conversation" loosely. It was closer to a Gilderoy Lockhart presentation with an occasional "Mhm" or "I see" or (very sarcastic) "How fascinating" from Minerva.

"Those Weasley boys are really something, aren't they?" he asked.

Minerva blinked in surprise. He was actually talking about something other than himself. She nodded. "They get in their fair share of trouble, but the boys are very bright."

"I heard them talking about the Ford Anglia in my class once, trying to figure out a way to fix the invisibility feature." Minerva smiled to herself. Of course they were. "I offered the best advice I could, of course, I told them to..." She returned to ignoring him, watching as Ginny Weasley finally cracked a grin and punched Fred (or was it George?) on the shoulder.

That night as she tried to fall asleep --- she hadn't slept well on a full moon in more than 20 years; she worried too much about Remus Lupin, and now Lucy Diggory --- she found her mind wandering once again to the proposal of the headmaster the night prior. Perhaps it was a good thing she hadn't allowed him to send Gilderoy Lockhart after the werewolf. She had a feeling he'd make himself useful sooner than later.

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed the different perspective for the full moon! I wanted to mix it up a bit, and I plan to continue to experiment in the future, so that it's not the same perspective every time. If you enjoyed it, or if you hated it, please comment and let me know! I'm hoping to include a different perspective every couple full moons. Not that Lucy's is boring, but... I know it can be. Sorry about that.

As always, thank you for being amazing! I love you all so much, and I'll see you with the next update on Sunday! Thanks for everything, my lovely readers!