Mass social events usually werenât Lucyâs thing âher nerves were easily frazzled as it was, but sheâd agreed to help out as a vendor, and she was pretty much genetically predisposed to caring about Quidditch. But as soon as the crowd around her began to shift and saw the symbol fill up the sky, she had only one thought. Why hadnât she seen this? Sheâd spent years listening to people label her abilities as a âgiftâ, but what good was being a so-called seer if this was all, in fact, real and she had been as clueless as everyone else? Unless it was some sort of prank, but even this was a pretty sick sense of humor. Regardless, she wanted to go home. âExcuse me, Iâm sorry,â she let her usual manners slip while pushing through the crowd, her fight or flight instinct taking their place. âExcuse me, Iâm just - ow!â Lucy finally stopped when she ran into someone solid, momentarily bringing her to her sense. âMerlin, Iâm so sorry.â