Huffily Puffily || Golden Trio

Pocket Criminal || xxvi

Lucy's trips to Diagon Alley became more and more frequent. She visited the Weasleys once per week every Wednesday, but she declined their offers to stay overnight. She did the first time, but she had been so busy that she wasn't able to write in the diary. Riddle had been very displeased when she arrived at Wool's.

She couldn't blame him, and she actually felt sorry. She understood where he was coming from. He'd been trapped for half a century in his own diary, and while he might not have been born a human, he every bit had the memories and soul of one. Once she began to write to him in the diary as a fellow person, she in a way made a commitment to Riddle. She couldn't leave him stranded, it'd be cruel.

Apart from that instance, Lucy and Riddle got along quite well. Sure she ribbed at him sometimes, but he taught her useful information. She found The Dark Arts: Unearthed genuinely fascinating. It neither praised nor shamed Dark Magic, but it explained its mechanics and how Light spells could be used in a Dark way just as Dark spells could be used for good. Riddle was pleased with her curiosity toward Dark Magic and encouraged her to begin practicing as soon as they returned to Hogwarts.

She was sitting at her desk, writing a letter back to Megan when an owl arrived at her window. Riddle was out at the moment lounging on her bed— she had no idea how he was able to lay on it when he was vaporous, and he smugly refused to explain.

She opened up the letter and smiled when she saw it was the list of school supplies. That smile slowly faded when she saw what was under the Defense Against the Dark Arts section. It was every single damned Lockhart book out on the market.

"Gross!" She complained, dropping the paper on her desk. She went as far as to step away from her desk. The small barn owl looked equally as disgusted to have carried it. She gave the owl a look of complete understanding. "I am so sorry you had to do this, young man," she said solemnly.

The owl hooted once. She waited, but he made no move to leave.

"What? Do you want to stay here, little guy?" She asked curiously. The owl hooted again and moved from the window to her desk.

Riddle stared directly at her.

"I'm sure you're wondering, am I about to steal an owl from the school?" She guessed. Riddle nodded, like it was obvious. "Then yes, yes I absolutely am." She looked back at the owl and grinned. "I think I'll call you... Snape."

The owl let out a thrilled hoot and flew over to Hedwig's old broken cage, resting on the perch.

Black ink appeared in the diary. She kept it propped up against the wall, always wide open.

Are you really naming your stolen owl after a professor?

"You know, Riddle, you really need to stop questioning me so much," Lucy said with a shake of her head. "The answer to that question is yes."

...should I even bother asking why?

"Maybe I think Snape is a lovely name," she said. Riddle's refusal to answer explained his response well enough. "Tom. Sometimes Lucy needs something to make her happy. Right now, naming my owl after a professor I hate would make me extremely happy. See? Just the thought of calling his name in public does the trick."

Riddle appeared again, shaking his head before heading back to the bed. Lucy grinned to herself and put her letter to Megan in an envelope.

"Oh, Snape! Would you like to deliver a letter, my precious boy?"

Riddle put his hands over his face, sighing deeply. And for the first time, Lucy heard it.

* * * * *