Third Person's POV

The Gryffindor Quidditch team -- Harry, Fred, George, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson -- trail Oliver Wood through the courtyard, toward the distant Quidditch pitch. Several students are outside, studying.

"I spent the summer devising a whole new Quidditch program. We're going to train earlier, harder, and longer!" Oliver squinted. "What the... I don't believe it!"

Crossing the courtyard from the other side are seven boys in green robes, also carrying broomsticks. At their lead is Marcus Flint, trollish Slytherin Captain. Ron, sitting at a table with Hermione and Lucy, looked up.

"Hermione! Lucy!" Ron said, calling for their attention. Both girls stopped writing and looked up and gazed to what Ron was watching.

"Uh-oh. I smell trouble." Said Lucy, getting to her feet.

"Come on." Hermione spoke as the three darted towards the Quidditch Pitch.

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Lucy's POV

I'm presently sitting here on one of the tables -or benches- at the quidditch pitch with Hermione and Ron.

Hermione is, as usual, doing her homework, whilst Ron is gobbling his sandwiches like there's no tomorrow. Me? Well, I'm secretly chatting with Tom beneath the table.

I'm currently asking him if he knows anything about me blacking out and waking up in the Girl's bathroom.

"Tom, may I ask you something?" I scribbled down. It fade away, as expected.

"Certainly, Lucy."

"What do you think is the reason I kept on blacking out and always waking up in the same place, which is the Girl's bathroom?"

"I have no idea. Perhaps you just need a rest."

I sighed exasperatedly. "Alright. Thanks for the advise, Goodbye."

"Anytime." I shut the diary closed. 'What could possibly be the reason?' I thought.

My thoughts are interrupted by Ron.

"Hermione! Lucy!" He called. We looked up and gazed to what Ron was watching. Slytherin.

"Uh-oh. I smell trouble." I said, getting to my feet.

"Come on." Hermione spoke as we dashed towards the Quidditch Pitch.

"Clear out, Flint! I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today." We heard Oliver growled, positively spitting with rage.

"Easy, Wood. I've got a note." Flint replied calmly as he handed him a parchment.

As Oliver snatched it, Ron, Hermione and I came up to join them.

"'I, Professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

Oliver looked up. "You've got a new seaker? Who?" He asked, distracted.

And from behind the six large figures before us came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. My jaw dropped. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy?" Harry and I said in disbelief.

"That's right. And that's not all that's new this year..." Malfoy said smugly.

As one, the seven Slytherins hold out seven brand-new gleaming broomsticks. The Gryffindors and I look stunned.

"Those our Nimbus Two Thousand Ones." Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.

"A generous gift from Draco's father." Flint stated smoothly. I scowled, they thought that their new broomsticks will make them better. Na-uh.

"That's right, Weasley. You see, unlike some, my father can afford to buy the best." Malfoy stated. The Slytherins howled with laughter. Now that made furious.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," I started, glaring at them.

"They got in on pure talent." Hermione finished, sharply. Malfoy turned to face me, he approached me and leaned 'till our foreheads are touching. I tensed.

"Oh, Lucy. You don't need to force yourself with these laughable people." He cooed while caressing my left cheek.

I saw Harry, Ron and the twins from the corner of my eye, clenching and unclenching their fists.

"You deserve better." He offered his hand. I glanced at it. "I can help you there."

I scoffed. "I'd rather be with a bunch of trolls than to be with some dimwitted Slytherins." It's time for the Gryffindors to howled with laughter. I smirked when he glared at me.

Then, he whirled around to look at Hermione.

"And no one asked your opinion, you fiIthy little Mudblood," He spat.

I gasped with the Gryffindors. Instantly, Fred, George and I lunged for Malfoy's throat. Oliver and Harry held us back.

"How dare you, Asshole! Let go of me, Harry. Let me kill him!" I growled, squirming on Harry's arms.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" Ron whipped out his wand. "Eat slugs!"

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

Harry, Hermione and I ran to him.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" Hermione shrieked.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter. Gits.

The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him.

"Let's take him to Hagrid. He'll know what to do." Said Harry to both of us, we nodded bravely, and we pulled Ron up by the arms. As we started to walk, I turned around and yelled,

"We're not done yet, Malfoy! I'm going to rip you into pieces and eat you!"

Hermione and Harry chuckled while shooking their heads.

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Hagrid rummages about, looking for something.

"Got jus' the thing. Set 'im down on that chair o'er there." Hagrid instructed.

As Ron sat, Hagrid pitchesd a bucket between his knees. Harry, Hermione and I glanced up questioningly.

Hagrid shrugged. "Better out than in. Get 'em all up, Ron."

"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," I said anxiously, watching Ron bend over the basin. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand ..."

"So tell me, who was he tryin' ter curse anyway?" Hagrid asked, jerking his head at Ron.

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

"It was bad," said Ron hoarsely, emerging over the tabletop looking pale and sweaty. "Malfoy called her 'Mudblood,' Hagrid -"

Ron dived out of sight again as a fresh wave of slugs made their appearance. Hagrid looked outraged. Poor Ginger...

Hagrid looked outrage.

"He didn'!" He growled at Hermione.

"He did," She uttered quietly. "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course -"

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," I explained. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born - you know, non-magic 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."

"Yeah. 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." Ron added.

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," said Hagrid proudly, making Hermione go a brilliant shade of magenta.

"Don't worry, Hermione. I swear that I'll make Malfoy regret his words." I said mysteriously.

They stared at each other horrified.

"You're planning something, aren't you?" Hermione asked cautiosly. I smirked evilly.

"We'll see about that."

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After a little chit-chat, we said good-bye to Hagrid and walked back up to the castle, Ron hiccoughing occasionally, but only bringing up two very small slugs.

We had barely set foot in the cool entrance hall when a voice rang out, "There you are, Potter - Weasley and Conner." Professor McGonagall was walking toward us, looking stern. "The three of you will do your detentions this evening."

"What're we doing, Professor?" said Ron, nervously suppressing a burp.

"You and Ms. Conner will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch," said Professor McGonagall. "And no magic, Weasley - elbow grease."

Ron and I gulped. A night with Mr. Filch is TOTALLY NOT GOOD.

"And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail," said Professor McGonagall.

Poor Harry.... Poor poor Harry.

"Oh no - Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?" said Harry desperately.

"Certainly not," said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp."

Harry,Ron and I slouched into the Great Hall in states of deepest gloom, Hermione behind us, wearing a well-you-did-break-school-rules sort of expression.

I rolled my eyes tiredly. "I know we deserve it, Hermione, but you don't need to shove it onto our faces."

"Filch'll have us there all night," said Ron heavily. "No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."

"Neither do I." I muttered.

"I'd swap anytime," said Harry hollowly. "I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart's fan mail ... he'll be a nightmare ......"

Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time, it was five minutes to eight, and Ron and I need to set off.

"Come on, Ron. We need to go. Bye, Harry." I smiled sadly. He nodded.

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As Ron and I polished the cups, I kept on muttering words like, 'old git', 'disgusting cat', 'yellow teeth' and 'disgusting, annoying and evil twit.'

Ron chuckled. "Why are you so angry?"

"Clearly, we're not supposed to be here." I scowled. "And we can't use magic. What's the use of our wands if we won't use it."

"Well, a rule is a rule."

I gaped at him. "Ronald Billius Weasley is now following rules." I said as I dramatically placed my hand on my chest where my heart is. "I can't believe it! This is a miracle! Bless you. Bless you."

Ron playfully glared. "Stop being a drama queen." I laughed.

Suddenly, Mr. Filch appeared, with his irritating cat.

"Stop goofing around, both of you." He scolded. "You're here to clean not to have fun." Then, he left.

Ron and I burst out laughing.

"That is wicked, Ginger!"

"Wait, I almost forgot." He said, once he regained his composure. "What's going on between you and Harry, huh?" He nudge me by his shoulder, waggling his eyebrows.

"There's nothing, I swear."

He snickered. "Yeah right."

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Polish. Polish. Polish. Cup. Cup. Cup. Wipe. Wipe. Wipe. Rub. Rub. Rub.

"I'm tired." I whined.

"Me either."

All of a sudden, my vision started to fade. I started swaying a bit. Black spots everywhere. Then, I fainted... Again.

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Ron's POV

I saw Lucy closing her eyes and holding her head, swaying.

"Lucy? Are you ok? Lucy?" She put her hand down and opened her eyes.

She whipped out her wand and chanted, "Scourgify." The cups are now shimmering in tidiness, if that's even possible.

She faced me with a blank look, it looks creepy, I might add. "We're done cleaning, I'll just go to the bathroom." She said in a monotone voice. I nodded wordlessly. She left.

Something's definitely wrong. I shrugged and went back to my dorm.

Harry is already there, obviously waiting for me.

"Hey." I said.

"Hey. Where's Lucy?"

"Here!" A voice wispered from the doorway. It opened and Lucy came into view.

We stared at her in awe. "How?"

"Nevermind that." She waved us off, I noticed she's getting paler this past few days. Wonder why... "By the way, How was it with Lockhart?" She asked plopping on Harry's bed.

Then, Harry explained to us what he heard.

"And Lockhart said he couldn't hear it?" I asked.

"D'you think he was lying? But I don't get it - even someone invisible would've had to open the door." Lucy spoke.

"I know," said Harry, lying back in his four-poster and staring at the canopy above him. "I don't get it either."

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Sorry for my bad grammars!