August 1991
Heathrow Airport
Muggle London, England
Lyra chatted happily to the kind flight attendant as they meandered through the crowds towards the baggage claim.
"Have you ever been out of the States before, honey?" The stewardess asked.
"No, but I've been to Niagara Falls a bunch of times so I've seen Canada. It looks...well it looks just like upstate New York does I guess," she replied thoughtfully.
The woman laughed.
Lyra followed closely behind her as they approached the rotating carousel where luggage was being spat out of an unseen room like bones from the belly of a dragon. As she watched, Lyra fussed nervously with the little plastic badge hanging around her neck that identified her as a minor traveling alone.
Lyra Black was indeed a minor, eleven years old to be exact. She was also traveling alone, which she could safely say, having done it now a grand total of one time, she did not like. She missed her mom. She missed her bedroom. She missed Brooklyn.
Lyra was on her way to Scotland. She was to spend a week studying at the British School of Witchcraft and Wizardry before heading back to the US and beginning her tenure at Ilvermorny, The American School.
Lyra thought it profoundly unfair that she had to start school before everybody else did. She voiced her displeasure, in no uncertain terms, to her parents. "In the stories, most people who give their kids away just leave just them money or warewolfism. Why did these guys leave me homework?" Lyra mused miserably to her parents as they coaxed her out of a cab at JFK.
The truth was that Lyra's exchange visits were a condition of her adoption. She was adopted by the Black family when she was a baby and part of the deal was that she would go study in Scotland three times a year when she was of age.
Like she said to her escort, she had never left the United States before. She'd never even left New York before. She had just adjusted to the idea of leaving to go to Ilvermorny in Massachusetts when she got the bomb dropped on her that she would be traveling to Europe as well.
"Just be yourself. Be kind and be open to learning new things," her mother had told her.
Easy as that, Lyra mused to herself. She snapped back to reality when the stewardess rolled her bag over from the carousel.
"Now, let's find your people, shall we?" She said brightly.
Lyra gulped. "Okay."
They looked around the bustling arrivals area at the signs, but saw nothing for her.
"There you are, Miss Black." A crackly female voice came from behind Lyra's shoulder.
Lyra turned to see a frazzled looking, middle-aged woman peering down at her kindly from behind a pair of incredibly thick glasses. She was wearing a frumpy dress with a fringe vest and an impressive number of scarves. She had frizzy blonde hair and was wearing several crystal necklaces around her neck.
"Yes, that's me!" Lyra exclaimed. "It's nice to meet you," she said with instinctive American politeness.
"Lovely to meet you, dear. Professor Trelawney. I am to be taking you into London," the witch replied.
"Excuse me, Ma'am. Do you have identification? Since she's a minor, we need to make sure you're approved to take her," the stewardess cut in.
The oddly dressed witch raised her eyebrows and pulled a card from her long sleeve. "Here is my...whatever you call those things, and I can tell you that this young woman is Lyra Black, who hails from Rostrand Street in Brooklyn, New York. She is eleven, prefers dogs to cats and has a brother named Kyle...or wait...Cael? It isn't clear yet," she said in an airy voice.
"Caelum," Lyra offered to be helpful.
"Ah. Yes. There he is. Caelum," the Professor nodded.
"Right," the stewardess replied with a frown. "Well, young lady, it was lovely chatting with you. I hope you enjoy Scotland."
"Thank you! It was nice to meet you," Lyra replied.
The witch led Lyra out to the taxi stand and they piled into a black car. The taxis were black! She started babbling to the witch sitting next to her about how the only black cars back home were for the rich people. Normal people just took the yellow ones, and that was only if they had money that day. Mostly you just took the floo, or the train depending on which part of the city you were in, the wizarding side, or the Nomaj side.
They pulled up in front of what appeared to be an abandoned corner building somewhere in southeast London. Professor Trelawney waved her hand over the rusted doorhandle, causing the door to click, as if unlocking. She ushered Lyra inside.
It was a lively, busy pub. It reminded her of Seven Bells, a bar in wizarding Brooklyn that served as a gateway to Nomaj Brooklyn via it's mirror image sister pub called The Bell House.
Lyra's nerves calmed a bit being in a more familiar scene. She smiled politely at the witches and wizards she passed who were enjoying beer and warm food around worn wooden tables.
Her escort led her to the back of the pub and directed her to a table where a single wizard was sitting, reading a newspaper. A ball of nerves rose back up heavy in her belly. He looked mean. Really mean. He was dressed in all black robes, had black hair, nearly black eyes and a huge hooked nose.
"Severus, here we are," Professor Trelawney said lightly, causing the wizard to look up.
Well...he didn't look any nicer now, Lyra thought to herself. She wasn't sure if he was trying to scowl at her, or if that's just what his face looked like.
The wizard slightly cocked his head to the side and quirked his lips.
"Miss Black, this is Professor Snape. He will be taking you on from here to the castle," the woman informed her before turning on her heel and wandering away without so much as a 'see you later.'
Lyra inhaled warily and turned back to the man at the table. Be yourself, be kind and be open to learning new things, she said to herself, echoing her mother's words.
"Hello! It's nice to meet you!" She said cheerily.
The dark wizard said nothing but studied her intently for a long time. Lyra started fidgeting under his gaze. "Um...are we flying to Scotland? Nice weather today," she said, awkwardly trying to fill the silence.
He stood abruptly, grabbed her arm and Lyra's vision went black.
August 1991
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Wizarding Scotland
She and the professor reappeared in what looked to her like...a dungeon? They were definitely underground, but there were desks and workbenches...so it was like a dungeon classroom? Lyra didn't have a whole lot of time to dwell on it because she suddenly keeled and threw up all over the floor.
"Side-along apparition. It typically makes people sick the first few times. Gets worse with distance and we traveled quite far," he informed her as she retched up what looked to her like a chicken nugget from her lunch at the airport.
As Lyra leaned on a desk for support, panting, her new 'friend' got right to it.
"Miss Black, I care very little if you are yourself and I care even less if you are kind. You are here only to learn and learning you will do. As to your other query from earlier, this is really just what my face looks like. I suggest you adjust to it and I wouldn't hold your breath waiting for me to look nicer as you put it," he stated in a dark monotone.
Lyra looked at him, pale and stunned.
"Did...did you read my mind?" She asked.
"Yes, and I'm going to teach you how you can keep me from doing it again in the future," he replied. "Since you don't have a wand yet, you can clean this up by hand and then you and I will begin."
Author's Note - Hello! This is a prequel to my story The Pawn. If you haven't read it, this story may not make a great deal of sense to you. This story will read like a series of one-shots from Lyra's time at Hogwarts. There will also be letters between Lyra and Draco to fill in some gaps. I don't expect this story to be as long as The Pawn, I just wanted to put it out there to give some more context to their relationship. It will be rated M for later chapters.
Ilvermorny - The American School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Seven Bells/The Bell House - Two bars that are mirror images of one another that serve as the gateway between wizarding and Nomaj Brooklyn in this AU.