Huffily Puffily || Golden Trio

Can o' Worms || xviii

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The first thing Lucy wanted to find out was how exactly Hagrid managed to get his hands on a dragon. Sure, he said he won it in a match with a stranger, but what stranger just casually has a dragon on hand to give away at the drop of a hat? She wished the Gryffindors would think more about the peripheral problems. Of course, just because she wanted to know who gave the gamekeeper the dragon didn't mean she was able to find out— as much as she loathe to admit it, she was only a first year after all, and she didn't exactly have the resources nor the investigative skills to ask around the pub.

She'd have to let that matter rest for now. Maybe she'd bring it up with Quirrell.

Quirrell was a lot less insufferable than Lucy thought he'd be. The muttering to himself was off-putting, not to mention the strange muffled hissing she heard alongside it, but aside from that, the lessons were proving to be legitimately useful. She was concerned about the tasks the knowledge was centered around— why would she need to know how to brew antidotes for poison? — but at the end of the day, her marks in her classes were increasing. She'd always gotten A's and E's, but lately she was pulling O after O. Even in Potions class.

Hermione was rightfully suspicious, but she refused to believe that Quirrell actually evil and teaching Lucy evil lessons. Even though she wasn't secretive about her lessons at all. So at the end of the day, Lucy was winning.

"Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life," Ron sighed one morning at breakfast, looking wistfully up at the clear ceiling. This morning, the weather was exceptionally nice, and the blue sky sparkled down upon them.

Lucy looked up from her stack of pancakes to shoot him a flat look. No amount of nice weather would prevent her from bugging the Gryffindors. "Nobody asked you to hide a dragon from the general public. You could just, you know, ignore it. Hagrid sort of brought it on himself."

"Of course we can't ignore it!" He said with an outraged expression. He looked genuinely appalled at the idea that they could simply let Hagrid solve his own problems instead of rushing in to save the day.

"Gryffindors," she muttered with a shake of her head.

Harry looked up from his pumpkin juice to give Lucy an apologetic smile. Up until this point, he was scribbling away on a last minute Charms essay. "Sorry, Luce. Hagrid's our friend. We sort of do have to. You don't, if you don't want to..."

"Well if you're all doing it, then I have to do it, otherwise I'll feel bad," she huffed.

"Knew you'd say that," Harry grinned.

Lucy pulled a face before returning her attention to her breakfast. Harry was right; it didn't matter how unnecessary or dangerous their plans were, she would always help them out if they asked her to. Even if they didn't ask her to, she cared for her friends and wanted to keep them safe. Especially when Harry was involved— she wanted to protect that boy.

"The boy kills one dark lord, and he thinks he owns the place," Lucy said to Neville from across the way.

Neville stared back at her, unsure whether or not to defend Harry. In the end he decided to take it as a joke and he laughed weakly.

She grinned. Making people uncomfortable was so much fun.

"If you're done being jealous of me, I've got a letter to read," Harry said smugly as he reached for a folded note in the talons of a particularly large barge owl.

"I am not jealous, you git—"

But whatever argument she was about to spark was interrupted; Harry's eyes widened as he shoved the note over to Hermione and Ron. "It's hatching!" he hissed, "We've got to go down and watch it—"