Lucifer Pella sighed in relief. It was a little after five on a Wednesday afternoon, and the Slytherin Common Room had finally cleared out. Students entered the dim, green-lit area in swarms as soon as the last class of the day was over, whether they were meeting up with friends or just wanting to relax some, making for a very crowded, very hot area. It had taken a little over an hour, but finally, she was alone but for a junior who had fallen asleep in the corner. The boy looked like he had been up late studying, and she didn't blame him.
The dark-haired sixth year put down the large textbook she had been diligently reading for the past thirty minutes (a library book on Advanced Transfiguration) and gazed into the fireplace, welcoming its warmth. It was relatively chilly outside - just above forty degrees Fahrenheit - and the small fire was nice. A small smile touched her face and she closed her eyes peacefully, truly relaxing for the first time all day.
A shuffling gait from the door to the Common Room caused her eyes to snap open, and she sat up quickly. Sure enough, there was her ex, Clayton, chatting aimlessly with a rather attractive fifth year girl as they leaned up against a green and silver wall hanging. He was flashing the girl that smile of his, the one that Lucifer blamed for getting her into that mess of a relationship. She really wanted to march over there and smack that girl across the face, make her see what a jerk the guy was. Yes, he was attractive. Yes, he seemed nice. But he was one of the cruelest people she had ever met, and that was saying something, coming from a Slytherin.
Lucifer tried to casually sink back into the forest green couch, hoping he wouldn’t see her, but her hopes were dashed as a ringing voice reached her ears.
“Why, would you look at that? There’s a viper over by the fireplace,” Clayton laughed sharply, his pretenses of quiet chivalry dropping. “Why don’t you come and try to bite me, little viper? Your fangs are sharp enough. I dare you.” The girl with him laughed nervously, trying to go along.
Lucifer had had enough already. There was no way she would subject herself to his verbal abuse, not if she had anything to say about it. She snatched the book and stalked out of the room, brushing by him without so much as saying “excuse me.” As the heavy wooden door leading to the dungeons slammed shut behind her, she heard Clayton say winningly to his companion, “Sorry about that. She made my life a misery when we were together, the little lesbian--”
Lucifer bit her lip to keep from bursting into tears as she sprinted up the winding stairs from the dungeon to the entrance hall. She hadn’t been in his presence more than a minute, and he was already throwing her emotions out of whack again. And now that attractive fifth year girl would go tell all her friends about Lucifer the lesbian. It made sense, anyway. Someone with the name of Lucifer had to be messed up somehow.
It had been a huge mistake, telling Clayton that she was bisexual. It had been one of those spur-of-the-moment things brought on by midnight and soft-scented candles. Clayton had reacted well at first, but as their relationship got more and more thrown out of whack, he began using it against her, telling his friends that he had taken pity on her, the little viper, and gone out with her to keep her from embarrassing herself. After four months of verbal and some physical abuse, Lucifer finally broke up with him. And now he had taken it upon himself to make her life a misery.
Her harsh stride rang across the tiled floor, and she shoved past a group of huddled second years as she headed to the large oak doors, ignoring the glares they threw her way. She was older, they were smaller. She had seniority. That’s how it worked.
And then she was outside, shivering at the sudden change of temperature. It wasn’t that cold, just different from the temperate warmth of the castle. Her shoes hissed against the emerald grass as she trotted blindly towards the lake, towards her tree. Now, technically it wasn’t her tree. The tree belonged to anyone who sat near it. But Lucifer had picked out this glistening willow from her first days at Hogwarts; it was a favorite haunt of hers. Even in November, the willow maintained its wispy glory, unlike the other trees that dropped their leaves at the first sign of winter. No, her tree was special, and she had often chased other students away from its shallow roots.
Lucifer screeched to a halt next to the tree and plopped down on a flat rock she had dragged over during her third year. The rock was farther back, away from the path, so she had some level of concealment. Concealment was a necessity, in Lucifer’s opinion. She liked her privacy.
The rock was cold against her skin and sent chills up her legs, but she remained nonetheless. The trunk of the willow was pitted and reassuring behind her: a supportive hand on her back. Lucifer drew her knees to her chest and propped her book up on her knees, staving away her feelings of hurt. If she didn’t think about her emotions, they couldn’t overwhelm her.
Contrary to her philosophy, a few tears leaked out of her hazel eyes, drawing cool tracks down her cheekbones. After trying “ and failing “ to read through a screen of oncoming tears, Lucifer gave up and slammed her book closed with much more force than she had originally intended. The book (older than she was) wheezed pitifully, emitting a puff of dust right into Lucifer’s face. She immediately sneezed and tried in desperation to cover her nose before she inhaled too much dust. Unfortunately, she had breathed in just enough to send her immune system into a frenzy. Lucifer tried to quell the rising tickle in her nose by sniffing forcefully, but that backfired and made it worse. She gave up with an internal sigh, resigning herself to the sneezing fit that soon followed. Seven, she counted, a lucky number. That wasn’t half bad for having forgotten her allergy meds that morning.
“Bless you.” Lucifer looked up in surprise as a friendly voice from the nearby pathway called out to her. A slender girl Lucifer recognized from her year was looking at her with concern. The colors of Gryffindor were woven through her tawny hair in the form of a headband.
The Gryffindor girl saw Lucifer’s red eyes and tear-streaked face and paused. “Are you okay?”
Lucifer looked away. “I’m fine,” she replied shortly, hoping with all her might that this girl would leave her alone. So much for her lucky number seven.
“Are you sure?” the girl’s tone was kind, and Lucifer felt tears well in her eyes again.
“Yes.”
The girl walked towards Lucifer and handed her a handkerchief she had fished from her robe’s pocket. “Here.” Lucifer took it warily and blew her nose, eyes not leaving the girl.
“Why are you looking me so weird? Is there something on my face?” A smile lit up the girl’s eyes.
Lucifer shook her head with a sniff. “No, it’s just that…a Gryffindor’s never even given me the time of day before,” she replied slowly.
“Well, I haven’t given you the time of day yet,” the girl laughed, and Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile.
“See, that’s better. You look so much nicer when you smile,” the girl teased. “Keep the handkerchief. I hope you feel better.” And then she was gone, striding gracefully up the hill towards the castle, leaving Lucifer with a flower-embroidered handkerchief and a lot to think over.