Lucy in the Sky With, a Humor fanfic

Lucy In the Sky With Voldie

CLANG! Clang!! CLANG! We woke up to sounds of loud banging in the greenish hallways of our old, rundown dorm. My roommate, Sarah, and I both flipped our heads to each other and then to the empty bed lying beside us. Lucy. We both instantly knew the source of the incessant clanging.

As we ran out of the dorm room, number 934, we ran smack into Lucy. Dressed head to toe in a tatty pink bathrobe and witch hat, her skinny hand rested on an old Red Wagon Flyer.

“Anything from the trolley, dear? We have specials today on the Bertie Bott’s Beans and pumpkin pastries.” She said, extending a hand over the wagon to point at the jellybeans and jack-o-lantern Halloween cakes. We both stared at her and did our best goldfish impressions. Fortunately, before we had to say anything, a teacher came by.

“Is that the wagon we use for science?” The teacher, an old English fool, glanced at the wagon in perplexity. Lucy ripped out her “wand”, an old branch I whittled for her into a smooth pole, and stared muttering her curses, which sounded suspiciously like “abracadabra!” The teacher looked at her weird, and Lucy commenced to prodding him ardently with her wand. He turned slowly and walked quickly down the corridor, stopping every five feet or so to check over his shoulder.

“Ha! He ran away faster then Severus Snape confronted with face wash and a scrubbing pad!” Lucy said, and then scampered down the hall. She clanged her bell and resumed to calling out the various “trolley” treats.

Sarah and I both turned and stared at each other in confusion for the second time. We both knew, heck, the entire school knew, that Lucy had an odd, odd obsession with anything to do with Harry Potter, especially the dark side. A funny thing at first, but then it came to the name change (Opal to Lucy, vaguely linked to Lucius) and crying for six hours over the lose of her “Voldie poo” in the last book. Us being just teenagers, we didn’t know what to do. We should have told an adult, but it became too entertaining to watch.

Six hours and a strenuous school day later, Lucy came barging back into our room. Her hair had knots and clumps of dirt in it, and her clothes torn. In short, an absolute mess. She threw off the ratty pink bathrobe cloak she always wore and slumped on her four-poster bed with an “oomph.”

“Hard day Lucy?” Sarah asked, hesitant but curious. Lucy looked up and growled, and her left sleeve slide up her arm. “Lucy, your arm! Oh my gosh, Lucy, please tell me you did not get a dark mark tattoo. That doesn‘t equal Deatheater. It equals pathetic.”

“Don’t blame me! We spent all day trying to regroup ourselves, but after our Lord died, we honestly have no one! Our meetings - as empty as Crabbe’s brain!” She got up and shuffled past us, one arm clenched to the dark mark and the other waving frantically, mumbling about “that evil Harry Potter” and “the backstabbing Malfoy’s”. “And we lost so many in that epic battle! We really need to regroup! Join the cause or die!” Lucy ran out of the bedroom and into the closet, leaving a few seconds later with her broom and wand pulled out. She tucked her hair into a bun and her life away as she ran out of the room with a whisper of “Lumos.”

With a quick worried glance at each other, our eyes slowly closed and we sank into the oblivion that marks sleep.

Over the course of the next week, we only saw Lucy in class and when she stumbled in half dead at night. Then, one brisk and dancing night, the first murder happened. No marks on the body and the only signs of the murderer - a dark mark sticker above the door - left police baffled. Once every week, a new murder would happen, leaving no fingerprints and killing with poison.

Now, Sarah and I automatically knew Lucy had something to do with this. I mean, the whole “dark mark above the death scene” just screamed her. Plus, she just had a grotesque enough mind. We did not tell on her right away because she still acted as our friend, albeit a murderer. However, by the fifth murder, we knew we had to tell and let Lucy‘s rein come to an end. We gathered up the evidence (the batches of dark mark stickers, the wand and the broom) and started to head out the dark door way when Lucy sauntered in and stopped us with a quick flick of the hand .

“I know you guys plan on telling on me. Well, I can’t let that happen.” Seeing our incredulous looks, she smirked. “My mind reading/lie detecting power works I see.” Our looks changed into something more resembling consternation. “Or I saw the bags of evidence and took a scientific guess.” She shrugged and our faces relaxed. “Now, I know I have been doing this in a certain way, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I know, I know my Lord - the evil Order Of the Phoenix will know I killed them. But I can escape and join you after this, my Lord!”

Sarah and I exchanged looks at this point and came to a conclusion. We grabbed Lucy. Although she sounded powerful, her body stood at four feet, eleven inches and she weighed only 90 pounds. We tied her up and put her in the corner and called the police and, in Lucy’s vocabulary, the headmaster.

Neither of us saw Lucy shake around and cut her ropes with a silver knife that appeared like uncannily like magic nor when she sneaked up behind us. We did not see her as she lifted her arms and pulled it down, slowly, to our bodies. Most of all, we did not see or expect what happened next. In our wildest dreams, we could never begin imagine this possibility. She reached out her arms and dragged us into the biggest hug either one of us has ever received!

“Thank you guys so much for being there. I just want you guys to know that I don’t really believe in my world anymore before I left.” Lucy smiled at us and pulled her sleeve down over the ghastly scar of sacrifice. Because, as you know, once a death eater, always a death eater. Kind of like the KKK or Hitler’s Nazis in a weird way.

“Really?”

“No!” And with that, Lucy took the knife and stabbed it in her own heart. With her dying breath, she whispered, “I’m coming to join you and the fellow dead followers, my Lord. See you in the great beyond.”

Her body went limp just as the police busted in with their guns held high. They instantly knew a suicide, her hand resting gently and as still as Dumbledore’s heart against the knife. Lucy’s soul floated down into the giant room of mysteries down below. At that point of time, a gigantic tornado came and killed half the school, including Sarah and the police. I write this in utter pain, my legs trapped underneath the main door. With a shaky breath, I look up and meet the eyes of several hundred kids, the ones Lucy the Crazy convinced to join her wacko cult, looking at me coldly through slit eyes and dark marked arms.

“How did you survive the humongous tornado that appeared out of nowhere conveniently and killed everyone leaving me as the sole witness?” The brown of the air tasted dirty, and it made my head throb. Each breathe hurt.

“We watched the news and went into the bomb shelter no one knew about, where we held our super secret meetings? Why didn’t you help our lord? You killed our new master! We kill you! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” They continued to laugh manically while the leader stabbed me repeatedly with the wand I made for Lucy. I died there, being poked, while hundreds of nut jobs laughed and plotted their rule over a nonexistent world.

Author's Note: I know this is interesting...This was one of my Acc. English assignments. He told us we had to write a creative story about anything we want, except it couldn't be a fable, fantasy/science fiction or a fanfiction. And then he told us that if we did any of those he'd automatically give us 40 on it. So my friends and I all wrote stories like this. Personally, I think it's crap. Mostly posting because my friends want to read it.