Love 101
A Draco Malfoy Love Story
She flew through the air on her Firebolt at 75 miles per hour, half the speed that Firebolt could go. With her legs crossed and dangling on the same side, she flew as if it were natural to her, her hands were spread out evenly to keep her balance. Her mini-black backpack was hanging off the end, her black cat, Samara, had its head peeking out of it.
Lyra was wearing black tie cargo pants and a black tight Gun and Butterfly tee under a Tripp black knee length coat over her paling brown skin. Her anarchic zipper and safety pin sneakers hid under her pants. Around her neck was a silver bat pendant necklace. Her raven black hair was flowing with the speeding wind and her cold black eyes were hidden behind oval frame smoke lens sunglasses.
In a few moments, she was drawing closer to an old castle, but she knew it as Hogwarts. Samara hissed when a fly went by her nose as her claws swished towards the bug, missing completely. Lyra dipped the front of her broom towards one of the windows that showed four long tables full of students and one longer table that was occupied with adults with two seats empty, one between an old lady wearing a black dress with a green sweater and a half giant with a scraggly beard accompanied by messy hair; he was wearing half-giant clothing and the other chair was right next to a man with an abnormally large nose, greasy black hair that went to his shoulders, and an entire black wardrobe.
She could hear an old man speaking; her hearing was very acute. He sounded old. When she was closer, she could see a tall old man with a long white beard and long white hair standing behind an owl podium wearing blue Renaissance wizarding clothes and half-moon glasses.
"She should be arriving shortly. Please be patient." The old man announced as Lyra was a few feet from entering the window.
She flew threw the window, jumping off it and landing to the right of the old man, her broom flying out of the other side window, but soon returning to Lyra. With an outreached hand, she caught her broom, dropping her arm to her side; she had taken off her black bag with Samara still in it and she was holding it in her left hand.
"Everyone. I would like you to meet Ms. Lyra Moira." The old man, supposedly Dumbledore the Headmaster of the school, introduced Lyra. "As you can tell, she is very young. Ms. Moira here is sixteen years old and is the youngest teacher in history. She will be teaching a new class called Ancient Magic. She will teach you to do magic without wands or incantations. This class is open to all students who are interested, but to be in her class you must send a parchment to me specifying your name, house, and year."
"Can I make an announcement, Headmaster?" Lyra interrupted Dumbledore, knowing that he was going to leave out one big detail about her class.
He nodded before stepping down, allowing her to be the center of attention. When she was positioned and ready to speak, she looked around to see everyone's eyes concentrating on her. She gave them all a deadly glare, sending chills down their spine.
"Let me make one thing and only one thing perfectly clear." She tried not to growl. "I have a very, very, very low tolerance for slackers and people who like to fool around in class. If you want to be in my class, you must have self-discipline and you must be focused. This will be the only time I am going to warn you who want to be in my class. If I can't you fooling around, I will not give you detention, but I will ensure that you never fool around in my class again." She threatened them, making some of them shiver in fear.
"Thank you, Ms. Moira." Dumbledore excused Lyra off the podium, motioning her to her seat.
Lyra rolled her eyes and carried her things to her seat, sighing heavily. She placed Samara's bag so she could get out and dropped her broom on the left side of her broom. Samara meowed as she stretched out her legs, jumping into Lyra's lap afterwards. Lyra began to pet Samara's head, making her purr.
"I will no longer hold you from your food. Let the feast begin!" Dumbledore loudly announced with a grand feast appearing on every table, including the teachers table.
Before Lyra took any food, she looked around the room to see that everyone was grabbing every kind of food they liked with their grimy little hands. She shook her head in disgust as she stopped petting Samara. Then, Samara jumped back on the table and sat on the other end with her back towards the students. Lyra picked up an apple for herself, placing it in her lap, and then put some food for Samara on her plate.
"So, Ms. Moira." The half-giant caught Lyra's attention as she was sliding the plate over to Samara.
"Don't call me that." Lyra growled. "Just call me Lyra." Her tone calmed down.
"I'm sorry, Lyra. I'm Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher." Hagrid merrily told Lyra, smiling even though Lyra wasn't looking at him.
"Nice to meet you, Hagrid. Answer me a question." Lyra commanded as nicely as she could before taking a small bite out of her apple. "Who is that extra chair for over next to that man?" She asked once she swallowed.
"Oh! That's for the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher. I don't remember her name, though. I think it started with an 'M'." Hagrid wondered going back to eating.
"Her name is Mirage Thorne." The old lady informed them, Lyra's attention directing on her.
"Who are you?" Lyra looked at the old lady from behind her sunglasses.
"How rude of me! My name's Minerva McGonagall. I'm the Transfiguration teacher." She introduced herself formally.
Minerva was very poised. Her back was straight when she ate and the way she held her utensils showed that she was very well-mannered.
"Just call me Lyra." Lyra blankly told Minerva, looking back at Samara. "So, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is Thorne? How frightening." Lyra joked in her own little way.
"Excuse me. Do you know Ms. Thorne?" Minerva politely asked.
"Actually, yes. I do. She's my mother." Lyra muttered under her breath.
"What? But your last names are different." Minerva asked in confusion, dropping her soup spoon carefully.
"She adopted me two years ago." Lyra quickly answered before she felt two sympathetic pair of eyes on her; Hagrid was eavesdropping. "I'm going to bed."
Lyra stood up calmly, her chair scooting back to give her space to stand. When Samara saw Lyra stand up, she stopped eating and went back into her bag with a piece of turkey in her small mouth. Then, Lyra picked up the bag by one of the straps and slid it up her shoulder, holding it with her hand tightly.
With that, she walked off, but as she was walking down the center aisle to the doors, she could feel a third pair of eyes beaming at her. She didn't stop to figure out who it was and just pretended as if everything was normal. Though, in her mind, she searched the room for anyone with a suspicious nature. To her luck, she found no one by the time she had exited through the two giant doors.
'What's the matter, Lyra?' a tiny, childish, female voice rang in Lyra's head.
Samara had jumped out of her bag by then and was walking beside Lyra. Her little cat head was looking up at her, the look of concern and wonder in her soft golden eyes.
"Something wasn't right back there." Lyra answered Samara in a deeper tone than normal.
'What do you mean?' Samara asked confused as they began to make their way up the staircase to the sixth floor.
"Someone was looking at me and I couldn't find them. I couldn't sense any evil in the room, but something about that stare made me, I don't know, suspicious." Lyra replied, her tone softening.
The rest of the way was quiet. Lyra had ignored every portrait that tried talking to her because she wasn't a very good people person. Almost every time she had walked off a staircase, they would move to some other part of the castle. One time Samara had to jump to catch up with Lyra because the stairs had moved unexpectedly.
When they reached the sixth floor, they were greeted by one long dark hall, but the more they walked into it, candles began to light up on their own and go out on their own once they were passed it. At the end of the hall was a rather large portrait with a dark landscape. It was a dark and mysterious forest at night, the trees, plants, rocks, and forest floor were visible to extent.
"Who's there?" an angry, yet depressed voice called out with a sullen girl appearing in the middle of the portrait. She was as tall as Lyra with long, straight, black hair that reached the middle of her back, a quarter of her hair covering the right side of her paling white face. Her pure black eyes were blank. She was wearing a black brocaded velvet dress with black brocaded shoes.
"My name is Lyra Moira. I believe that you are the entrance to my room." Lyra said in her usual cold and emotionless voice.
"So, you're her?" She inquired with a hint of sadness in her voice. "You are very beautiful. My name is Echo and yes, I am the door to your room. All I need is for you to give me a password to remember so that I only allow you into this room." She told her while sitting down with her back pressed against the bottom right hand corner frame.
"Whispering Dementors." Lyra quickly said.
"That'll do. You can just walk through my portrait now." Echo instructed.
Without hesitation, Lyra walked through Echo's portrait as if it were stable liquid. The lights in the room turned on automatically. It was quite large. To her right, there were full length golden oak glass doors that led out to a large white concrete balcony. The walls were dark white with dark wood paneling and the carpeting was dark gray.
In the center of the room, pushed up against the back wall, was a queen-sized golden oak wood four poster bed with black and purple satin drapery, already tied to the posts. Covering the bed were black sheets and a thick black comforter made of Egyptian sateen with the top pulled back to reveal two purple pillows. Beside it to the right was a golden oak end table, a picture of Mirage tying her arms loosely around Lyra's neck and laughing kindly, Lyra looking emotionless and rolling her eyes, was propped up on it.
Off to the left sat a tall golden oak dresser in the corner, already filled with Lyra's clothes. Near it was a golden oak door with a small gold panel on it that read 'Bathroom' in a formal font. It's handle was gold as well.
Last was an golden oak student's desk resting in the bottom right hand corner of the room, near Lyra. It had a light above it with quills, ink bottles, papers, and envelopes sitting on its sleek surface. Under the desk, in front of the golden oak chair, was Samara's black bed.
'I like this room.' Samara said, running off to where her bed was.
"It's okay, I guess. Just a bit too extravagant for my taste." Lyra added as she watched Samara pull out her bed with her teeth, pushing the chair back a ways.
'I'm going to sleep.' Samara informed her once she dragged her bed to the top left hand corner of the room.
As Samara was falling asleep, Lyra decided to check out the bathroom. Turning the knob, she gently pushed open the door to see a dark bathroom soon being illuminated by many candles. Laying in the middle of the bathroom floor was a black tiger with white stripes. It was now awake and turned to face Lyra with blood red eyes. It growled and then jumped at Lyra with its fangs and claws showing.