Lucille Rose Potter

Chapter 3

"My letters here! My letter's here!" Lucy ran into the pub with messy hair, pajamas and an envelope clutched in her hand.  

"Alright, Luce!" Sawyer, the only other teen employee cheered. He was a 6th year Hufflepuff and Lucy's closest, and practically only friend. "Go on, open it!" He dropped his broom and came over to read over her shoulder.

"I can't," she sighed looking at him with a pout.

"Come on, yes you can," Sawyer laughed, placing his hand on her lower back.

"You do it," Lucy handed him the envelope. Her hands were shaking and she held her breath as he broke the wax seal.

Dear Ms. Evans,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. The term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress

"I'm going to Hogwarts!" Lucy jumped up and down, "I'm actually going to Hogwarts!"

Sawyer laughed, "you sure are, Evans." He dug through the envelope, "your supply list and ticket are in here too. Oh! Wait, there's another letter."

Ms. Evans,
Your orientation and sorting will be taking place on August 25. Please wait at Hogsmeade station at 12:00 pm with an escort of your choice.

"Come with me?" Lucy turned to face Sawyer.

"Of course," he smiled down at the redhead, "wouldn't miss it for the world, I'm sure Aberforth will give me the day off."

Lucy smiled, "speaking of which, you should get back to work and I should go get dressed before we get in trouble." She took the envelope from his outstretched hand, "thank you again, Sawyer." She kissed his cheek before rushing back to the apartment.

She opened the door to her bedroom and a cat rolled over by her feet.

"Hi again, Matchi," the girl giggled, "you're just the cutest."

The cat purred in response and Lucy bent down to pet her. "You're going to make me late for work, silly kitty!"

>•<

"Alright, that's the last of it, we're closing for the night," Aberforth threw his towel down on the bar. "You best be going to bed Lucy, take the day off tomorrow, you're not looking the greatest." 

"No, I'm fine," Lucy yawned.

"No, you're not, I'm cancelling your shift, if I see you working tomorrow, I won't let you go to Diagon Alley with Sawyer next week," Aberforth raised his eye at the young girl.

"What!" Lucy shouted incredulously, "that's so not fair."

"It doesn't have to be," Aberforth smirked, "Bed, now, it's late."

Lucy stomped up the stairs to her room and collapsed on her bed without changing or anything.  She would be the last to admit it but she really didn't feel all too well, she had been having nightmares and her head had been bothering her for about a week. She sighed, throwing her apron and shoes off the side of the bed before tucking herself under her covers.

Looking up at the ceiling, she smiled softly as the glow in the dark stars that Aberforth had put up many years ago still glowed in the dark. The bed sank slightly as a cat leaped up to lay on her legs.

"What're we going to do tomorrow girl?" Lucy whispered as she ran her hand through Matchi's soft fur.

Matchi meowed in response.

"Sounds like a plan," Lucy yawned, closing her eyes.

>•<

Lucy groaned as she heard a knock on her door.

"I bring food!" Sawyer strode into the girl's room.

"Go away," Lucy mumbled, covering her head with her pillow.

"Can't, darling," Sawyer laughed, setting a tray upon her lap, "on the menu today: my brilliant homemade chicken soup."

"I'm not sick!" Lucy sat up and took the spoon from the boy's outstretched hand.

"No, you aren't," Sawyer teased, dragging the chair from her desk over to her bedside.

"What's going on downstairs?" Lucy asked blowing on a spoonful of soup.

"Nothing much, slow day," Sawyer put his feet up on the bed, "Aberforth is worried, he gave me the day off to watch you."

"He worries too much," Lucy waved him off, "I'm fine."

"Luce, I know you hate being sick, but you're sick," he laughed.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Lucille groaned, throwing a pillow at the boy.

"You know you look like a mess, right?" Sawyer got up and crossed over to her vanity. He grabbed her hairbrush and put it on her nightstand.

"Rude," Lucy frowned, "that's no way to talk to a sick person."

Sawyer laughed, "I thought you weren't sick, Luce."

"Whatever," Lucille turned back to her soup, "can you get me Butterbeer?"

"Sure," Sawyer sighed, he pressed the back of his hand against her forehead, "feels like you're running a slight fever, I'll grab a potion. Do you want hot or cold Butterbeer?"

"Cold, please," Lucy smiled up at him.

"Alright," Sawyer patted her knee, "I'll be back in a few, finish your soup."

Lucille nodded, "thank you, Sawyer."

"You're welcome, Lulu," His smile made his blue eyes crinkle.

Lucy watched him leave, going down the steps that led to her bedroom, she smiled behind his back.

She and Sawyer had been friends ever since she ran into him in Hogsmeade when she was home for Winter Holiday her first year.

He was sitting in her typical place by the Shrieking Shack all by himself. She had sat next to him and from that moment on they were inseparable.

When Lucy learned that Sawyer only had an orphanage to go home to, she took him to Abeforth. Abeforth had offered Sawyer a room and a home if he came to work at the Hogs Head.

Since then, Lucy and Sawyer had both been working in the pub, and Sawyer was quickly accepted as a constant part of their lives.

Sawyer came back with a vial and a Butterbeer in his arms after a few minutes.

"Your prince in shining armor has returned," he announced, handing her the beverage.

She chugged the potion and quickly washed it down with Butterbeer.

"Ick," Lucy spat, her face scrunching up, "I hate taking potions."

"Sorry," Sawyer gave her a soft smile as he picked up her finished breakfast tray and placed it on her desk. "How do you want to spend the rest of the day?"

"Well I would like to go outside," Lucy said, "but I'll settle for you telling me about Hogwarts."

Sawyer grinned, "scoot over."

Lucy shuffled over to one side of her bed, making room for the boy to come sit. He took his place beside her and rearranged the pillows so he was comfortable.

"What do you want to know?" He asked stroking the cat that had jumped into his lap.

Lucy yawned and rested her head on his shoulder, "everything."