Huffily Puffily || Golden Trio

Alas, Laurel || lv

* * * * *

An entire week of classes passed, and to Lucy's surprise, and immense delight, not a single peculiar event happened.

There weren't any attacks or mysterious writings on the wall, nor had any monsters attacked the castle. None of her teachers acted as if they were hiding a dark secret and she certainly didn't suspect any of them of having Lord Voldemort on the back of their head. She finally felt as though Hogwarts was a school instead of a castle filled with secrets.

Now, she did not doubt that there were still secrets hiding in the corners of empty classrooms, but for once she was not a part of it. Any adventures were of her own volition. Instead of running into the Forbidden Forest to face a hoard of Acromantulas, she and Anthony were solving everyday mysteries. Last week they wanted to find out why Peeves was so frightened of the Bloody Baron. They had to exchange a few favors with other ghosts— the Fat Friar expected Anthony to win against Ravenclaw in the next Quidditch match— and through their investigation, they found out that ghosts were the only beings that could harm a poltergeist.

That was indeed very useful information.

Their current mystery was less exciting, but they treated it with the same amount of importance nonetheless. Lucy and the rest of their Quidditch team often found themselves curled up in Daisy's own Head Girl room late at night talking. Since 90% of the bloody team were prefects, no one could tell them that it was against the rules.

During one of their late-night conversations, the question of Snape's tastes in desserts came to mind— and Lucy and Anthony were now trying to figure out what sweets were the man's favorite.

They ran several experiments over the past few days but none of them revealed anything promising. So far, Snape hadn't shown a reaction to any desserts they presented him with. Anthony had even purchased a chocolate scented perfume that Lucy sprayed in class. If the man could smell it, he didn't give any indication, which led to another theory that Professor Snape could not smell at all.

"D'you reckon I should sneak a Dementor into the school?" Anthony muttered to her in the common room. He was flipping through their observations, trying to shield the contents of the parchment from Daisy, who was suspicious of their whispering.

"Tempting, but why?" Lucy asked. She was sitting beside him on the couch writing down possible ways to make Snape reveal something. She hadn't yet written down the Dementor idea since it sounded insane, but who knows? She was easily persuaded.

"Well, if we get a Dementor into Professor Snape's classroom, the odds are he'll have to eat some chocolate afterward. Unless, of course, he's allergic, but he didn't give any reaction when I snuck some into his breakfast yesterday—"

"You did what?"

Anthony ignored her accusing tone. "We're detectives, Rochester," he said calmly. "We cannot cut any corners in our investigations."

"Feels like we're the Moriarty of the situation at this point," she muttered.

"Who?"

"You've never read Sherlock Holmes?" Lucy asked with surprise. She wasn't overly fond of storybooks while she attended Wool's but Jane Eyre and The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes had been two of the only books she could sit down and read for hours. When Anthony shook his head, she gaped. "I'm getting you that book immediately," she muttered to herself.

"If it gives us hints on how Snape might react to a Dementor, then by all means," he said.

Lucy shook her head fondly. Anthony really was a different specifim, and she cared for her friend dearly. She uncrossed her legs and kicked them on the coffee table. She leaned back, thinking. "How would we get a Dementor inside the castle in the first place?" she wondered. "I don't suppose I'd be able to get anywhere near it."