* Lucy's POV *

Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, 'Professor' Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to us, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits.

I know what you're thinking; "Honestly. What an utter waste of time. They might as well be spending the hour counting specs of dust!" But that's Lockhart you're referring to, a deluded person who became well-known for his charms and looks, not to mention his so called 'books'. I'm suprised that Hermione could have fallen under Lockhart's spell, too.

He usually picked Harry to help him with these reconstructions; so far, Harry had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had 'cured' of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him.

Harry was hauled to the front of the class during our very next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf.

I know If he hadn't had a very good reason for keeping Lockhart in a good mood, he would have refused to do it. So, thanks Harry!

"Nice loud howl, Harry - exactly - and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced - like this - slammed him to the floor - thus - with one hand, I managed to hold him down - with my other, I put my wand to his throat - I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm - he let out a piteous moan - go on, Harry - higher than that -- good - the fur vanished - the fangs shrank - and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective - and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet. "Homework - compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"

The class began to leave. Harry returned to the back of the room, where Ron, Hermione and I were waiting.

"Ready?" Harry muttered.

"Wait till everyone's gone," said Hermione nervously. "All right . . ."

She approached Lockhart's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, the boys and I right behind her.

"Er - Professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered. "I wanted to - to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading."

She held out the piece of paper, her hand shaking slightly. "But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it - I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms -"

"She's definitely good at sweet-talking when she wants to be," I mused, lowering my voice a bit, only allowing Harry and Ron to hear. They both nodded and let out a 'hmm'.

"Good to know she sort out her priorities already." Ron stated, slightly smirking. I cracked a crooked grin.

"Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!" said Lockhart, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her. "Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?"

"Oh, yes," said Hermione eagerly. "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea-strainer -"

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving one of the best student of the year, other than Ms. Conner here a little extra help," said Lockhart warmly, and he pulled out an enormous peacock quill. "Yes, nice, isn't it?" he said, misreading the revolted look on Ron's face. "I usually save it for book signings."

He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione. Woah! We actually did it! Mission accomplished.

"So, Harry," said Lockhart, while Hermione folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player." -an extreme understatement- "I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players. . . ."

I stared at him, gaping. He did not just said that. Harry's the best seeker Hogwarts has ever seen! But when I opened my mouth to argue, Harry grabbed my hand and sprinted off after Hermione and Ron.

"I don't believe it," he said as the four of us examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."

"Unbelievable indeed," I agreed, still angry about Lockhart. "I knew Lockhart was thick, but surely he would have at least looked at the book we wanted to check out!"

"That's because he's a brainless git," said Ron. "But who cares, we've got what we needed -"

"He is not a brainless git," said Hermione shrilly as we half ran toward the library.

"Just because he said you were one of the best student of the year -"

We dropped our voices as we entered the muffled stillness of the library. Madam Pince, the librarian, was a thin, irritable woman who looked like an underfed vulture. It was pretty accurate.

"Moste Potente Potions?" she repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione; but she wouldn't let go.

"I was wondering if I could keep it," she said breathlessly.

"Oh, come on," said Ron, wrenching it from her grasp and thrusting it at Madam Pince.

"We'll get you another autograph. Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough."

Madam Pince held the note up to the light, as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy-looking book.

Ew.

Hermione put it carefully into her bag and we left, trying not to walk too quickly or look too guilty.

~*~

Five minutes later, we were barricaded in Moaning Myrtle's out-of-order bathroom once again.

Moaning Myrtle was crying noisily in her stall, but we were ignoring her, and vice versa.

Hermione opened Moste Potente Potions carefully, and the four of us bent over the damp-spotted pages.

It was clear from a glance why it belonged in the Restricted Section. Some of the potions had effects almost too gruesome to think about, and there were some very unpleasant illustrations, which included a man who seemed to have been turned inside out and a witch sprouting several extra pairs of arms out of her head. It. Was.Gross.

"Here it is," said Hermione excitedly as she found the page headed The Polyjuice Potion. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people.

"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," said Hermione as the trio and I scanned the recipe.

"No kidding. Look, lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass," I murmured, running my finger down the list of ingredients. "Well, they're easy enough, they're in the student store-cupboard, we can help ourselves. . . . Oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn - don't know where we're going to get that - shredded skin of a boomslang - that'll be tricky, too -"

"-and of course a bit of whoever we want to change into." Hermione finished. It might sound gag-worthy, but... It does sounds gag-worthy. No excuses. It's the only way, though.

"Excuse me?" said Ron sharply. "What d'you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it -"

Hermione continued as though she hadn't heard him.

"We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last. . . ."

"D'you realize how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione? Shredded skin of a boomslang, that's definitely not in the students' cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea. . . ." Harry said hesitantly.

But Hermione had enough. She shut the book with a snap.

"Well, if you two are going to chicken out, fine," she said. There were bright pink patches on her cheeks and her eyes were brighter than usual. "I don't want to break rules, you know. I think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, Lucy and I will go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in -"

There was a pause in which the three of us looked flabbergasted. Never thought I'd see the day when Hermione would be convincing us to break the rules. But I'd say, I completely understand her. She was being hunted inside her own school. Of course she wanted to do anything to solve this mystery. This wasn't just breaking rules for the sake of it or even out of curiosity. This could be life or death. Or, well, life or petrification.

All these fiasco happening scares me as hell either. Even if I'm not a muggle-born or a half-blood. I'm scared for Hermione. Who would want to witness their best friend get petrified?

"I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be persuading us to break rules," said Ron.

That's what I said. "All right, we'll do it. But not toenails, okay?"

"Ronald," I began, tiredly rolling my eyes. "just because we need a DNA of Malfoy's stupid friends, doesn't mean it has to be a toenail."

"Oh, right," Ron replied. "what then are we going to use?"

I shrugged. "There's a lot. Like saliva, but that's gross, fingernails, but that's difficult to get, and hair, the simplest and easiest one. Just one pluck of a hair, and that's enough."

"How long will it take to make, anyway?" said Harry as Hermione, looking happier, opened the book again.

"Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days . . . I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients."

"A month?" gasped Ron. "Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!" But mine and Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously again, and he added swiftly, "But it's the best plan we've got, so full steam ahead, I say."

However, while Hermione was checking that the coast was clear for us to leave the

bathroom, I heard Ron muttering to Harry, "It'll be a lot less hassle if you can just knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow."

I heaved a heavy sigh, rolling my eyes for the second time and thought irritatedly, "What's with Boys and sports?"

~*~

"Go! Go! Gryffindor! Go! Go! Gryffindor!" The crowd chanted (excluding the Slytherins who are hissing and booing) as the Gryffindor Team walked out onto the field. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint, the Slytherin team Captain and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other a threatening stare.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three . . . two . . .one . . ."

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch.

I turned around and faced my Gryffindor friends, motioning them to come forward. "Hey guys, do you want our team to win the game?"

They stared at me like I've gone insane, but murmured an 'absolutely' and 'of course'.

"Then let's cheer them. Here's what we're gonna yell..." I whispered. When we're done 'negotiating', Dean Thomas rolled out a huge poster with the Gryffindor's name and members on it. It's moving by the way, just to add effects.

I nodded to them and shouted with all our might:

Don't mess, don't mess,

Don't mess with the best

Because the best don't mess

Don't fool, don't fool,

Don't fool with the cool

Cuz the cool don't fool

Team Gryffindor we rule!

The yells from the crowd grew louder and the Gryffindor team's face lit up like a lamp, seemed more confident than a while ago. I hi-five my friends, grinning widely.

"All right there, Scarhead?" yelled Malfoy, shooting underneath him as though to show off the speed of his broom.

Harry had no time to reply. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward him. I shrieked and absentmindedly grabbed the person's hand beside me.

"Close one, Harry!" said George, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. George give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.

"What? What's happening?!" I exclaimed, frowning.

Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Malfoy. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head. Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the field.

"What was going on, Hermione? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible." I said, releasing my hand from the person next to me.

"Oh, sorry, Seamus." I apologized, sending him a small smile. He returned with red face.

"I have no idea. It's like it's gone homicidal on Harry," Hermione said indignantly.

"Foul play!" Ron exclaimed, looking angry. "The Slytherins must have fixed it or something!"

"But they can't have done it, can they?" Hermione said incredulously. "You can't just tamper with Quidditch equipment. They have all kinds of anti-jinx spells and charms on them."

"Maybe something went wrong with the anti-jinx spells and now it's gone... well, rogue," I suggested doubtfully. "Just maybe." I'd never heard of something like that happening.

Fred Weasley was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Fred swung

at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.

"Gotcha!" Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to

Harry, the Bludger pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed.

It had started to rain; I conjured a massive umbrella for us to prevent from being wet and they all sent me a thankful look or smile.

"Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero!" Said Lee Jordan who was commenting the game. I groaned.

The Slytherins' superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were now flying so close to him.

"They'd do better to just take him out of the game," I said, ignoring half of the others' affronted looks. "He can't even look for the Snitch! And at least that way Fred and George could go back to helping the rest of the team."

"Someone's - tampered - with - this - Bludger -" Fred grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on Harry.

"We need time out," said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger breaking Harry's nose at the same time. Wood had obviously got the message.

Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Harry, Fred, and George dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.

"I'm going down." I declared with finality in my tone, turning on my heel, but a hand stopped me.

"No! You could get hurt and Harry will blame us for it." Hermione interjected. "Not that we don't care for you but it's really dangerous down there. That bludger could knock you off in any second!"

"Hermione, knowing Harry, he will do everything he can just to win this match, even though his life depends on it." I reasoned, worry and desperation flowing through my words."I'm going down there. And I'll do my best to change his mind. Even if I need to beg."

Then I left, not waiting for a respond.

~*~

I heard Harry's voice, halfway downstairs. Madam Hooch was walking towards them.

"Listen," said Harry as she came nearer and nearer, "with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one."

That's it, he's gone nutter. Sure, it's obvious he's a good flier and all but.... *groaning*

"Oi! Don't be thick, Potter!" I shouted, marching towards them with an angry glare. The crowd's attention averted from them to me. "I'll take your head off."

"What are--"

"Lucy's right, Oliver, this is insane," said Alicia Spinnet angrily. "You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry -"

"Yes, listen to her," I encouraged. "You can't possibly let Harry try to deal with that by himself! One mistake and Harry could be very badly hurt! Winning is not worth that much. It's not," I insisted, seeing Oliver open his mouth. "What kind of shape do you think Harry would be in if that thing slammed into his head and he fell fifty feet?"

Oliver closed his mouth shut, gawking at my outburst with the rest of the team. They think I will let this pass by? Nu-uh.

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry after a moment of silence. "And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone!"

I narrowed my eyes at Oliver with an expression of 'I dare you', he cowered under my hard gaze.

"This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. " 'Get the Snitch or die trying,' what a stupid thing to tell him -"

"What?!" I said sharply, staring at Oliver, who flinched, noticing that he'll get another sermon from me. "You told him that? *cue the groan again* You should have known, you should have known Harry will take that literally."

I was torn. I wanted Gryffindor to win but I'm afraid of how much damage that crazy Bludger might be capable of.

Madam Hooch had joined us.

"Ready to resume play?" she asked Wood.

Wood looked at the determined look on Harry's face.

"All right," he said. "Fred, George, you heard Harry - leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own."

I made of noise of frustration and it looked like half of the team agreed with with me.

Harry's self-sacrificing. Again. Even about things like a Quidditch match. It was something that I admired about him, I confess, but at the same time it also scared me a little. I wondered exactly how much of himself he would be willing to sacrifice if he had to.

I rubbed my face with my hands, "Fine, but don't come apologizing 'cause I warned you already."

~*~

The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, Harry kicked hard

into the air and the bludger zoomed after him once more. Higher and higher he climbed; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled.

He hung upside down, avoiding another fierce dive from the Bludger, sending a group of laughter from the crowd.

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" yelled Malfoy as Harry was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in midair to dodge the Bludger, and he fled, the Bludger trailing a few feet behind him; and then, glaring back at Malfoy in hatred, then I saw it-- I reckon he did too - the Golden Snitch.

It was hovering inches above Malfoy's left ear - and Malfoy, busy laughing at Harry, hadn't seen it. Good for him.

"Get it, Harry!" Ron cheered, smirking with half of the group. "See? Harry can dodge a mad Bludger and win! Nothing to fuss about, Lucy."

Although it made me less nervous and anxious, my hands are still shaking. There's a nagging sensation from the pit of my stomach that tells me the game is not yet over and something horrible will happen. Hope not.

For an agonizing moment, Harry hung in midair, not speeding toward Malfoy in case he looked up and looked at the Snitch.

WHAM.

"I spoke too soon," said Ron, cringing with the others as I screeched, clamping a hand on my mouth. That didn't sound good.

The Bludger had hit him at last, smashed into his elbow. Then the Bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time aiming at his face.

"HARRY!" I said, covering my eyes, not wanting to see him get hurt. If only he listened to me, none of this would happen. My heart's pounding. Literally.

"THEY WON!' Ron roared, leaping to his feet and doing a sort of victory dance. "Look, Lucy! We won!"

I peaked through my fingers and saw Harry sprawled on the muddy ground, unconscious.

"I don't believe it," Hermione said slowly, shaking her head. "WE WON!" and she leapt up and joined Ron in his dance. These two are so odd.

I'm glad we won but that's not what I'm concerned at this point. So without further ado, I scurried downstairs, wishing Harry is all right.

When I'm finally beside him, I said after I sighed, "Harry-"

"Don't tell me I deserve it." He snapped, eyes still closed as a new group of crowd gather around us. I gasped, feeling a pang in my heart. Every muscles in my body tensed while I stared at him incredulously.

I don't understand why he said such a thing, I'm just a friend who's worried about him since he broke his arm which is in an odd angle already, then he's going to snap at me? I'm hurt, so hurt like I've been hit by a massive train.

"I'm not gonna say that anyway." I choked, tears started to form in my eyes. Then I stood up saying, "Hope you get well." And left, suppressing a sob.

~*~

Hello there, Folks! Forgive me for not updating, I've been really busy because of school and other personal problems, so please spare me! I know, it's been donkey's years the last time I updated but I'm trying my best. Don't worry! :)

Advanced Happy Christmas everybody! :*

Georgie Henley as Lucy on the side! ;)