Author's Note: Ahhhh, we're finally here! I'm very excited to write this bit of the fanfiction. It has very much been playing in my head ever since beginning to even write Remedy For Guilt. In fact, this whole fanfiction literally just came to me as pretty much the ending scene of RFG and fragments of this so it's actually crazy to finally be writing the bit I actually fantasised about! I've been lacking a bit of motivation in terms of writing but I have a few chapters down so I'm slowly going to start posting them, hoping that it'll keep me accountable to write more. I hope you enjoy the story that has painted itself in my head and taunted me for the past few months and thank you for taking the time to read it 3 I'd also like to thank my friends who have put up with me throwing ideas at them, especially Red_Artemis_Jane who wrote a bit of this story because I was stuck and makes the most amazing aesthetic posts for me on tumblr (username: of-starships-and-castles). Go check out her SnapexOC story /works/16006280/chapters/37347182 ! Anyway, without further ado, let us begin.
Edit 27/12/2018: A lovely reader from Norway pointed out that there is no sunset in Norway during the Winter month's so I have edited the chapter accordingly. Thanks for your feedback. I do read reviews and I love them. If you wanna contact me I'm available om tumblr under the name sleeplesspensieve and I've alos been RPing as Lyra on lyraxlestrange on tumblr so check it out if you want any headcanons and see her in different circumstances.
August 1994
On the northern coast of Norway a tall wooden house stood alone. Its baby blue wooden paneling stood out against the lush green backdrop of the hills and surrounding grass. The sunburnt orange sky painted the ocean purple, illustrating the end of the long summer day but also the beginning of a celebration as the midnight sun burnt brightly through the night.
Young Natalie was turning three.
Of course, night time wasn't a suitable time for a child's party, that would be held on the following day. The young girl's birthday was merely an excuse for Gustav and Syrin Novak to show off their recently built home to their old school friends. Gustav had written a few more successful news articles and Syrin had recently won a tournament allowing them to afford to move away from the busy inner towns and out to a more secluded and beautiful part of Norway.
Silhouettes appeared on the porch, seemingly from out of nowhere, arriving just in time to bask in the beauty of the scenery. After a quick glance around, the tallest and oldest of the four visitors reached forward and knocked on the door, one of his arms wrapped around a small child who was hanging over his shoulder. Gustav swung the door open and grinned widely as he saw his guests.
"Come in, come in," he insisted, stepping aside and allowing his friends to tunnel through the narrow hallway which spilled into the kitchen and adjoining dining area.
"Good to see you, Gus," said a woman as she passed through, giving the man a hug and a kiss on either cheek.
"Good to see you too, Lyra," he said with smile.
Lyra continued down the hall, her short brown hair bouncing with every step she took. Her eyes twinkled with wonder as she saw the large glass window panes that looked out onto the coast. She was so enamoured by the view that she didn't notice the blonde woman who stood behind the island countertop.
"Lyra!" the blonde exclaimed, pulling her attention away from the sights.
"Syrin," she smiled as she turned and embraced her old friend, "It's absolutely stunning."
"You should convince Ilya to move here," Syrin suggested.
She laughed, "Oh, he'd never quit his job at the ministry."
"What are you trying to convince my wife to do now?" Ilya said as he joined the two, kissing Syrin on the cheek.
"There's a block of land for sale next door," Syrin said, "It'd be good for little Cory to be close to Natalie." She tickled the toddler that was perched on his arm.
"Where is Natalie?"
"She's just in the living room, if you want to play," Syrin said, gesturing towards the door.
Corvus struggled against Ilya's grip, forcing him to place him down on the ground. As soon as his feet touched the floorboards he ran towards the ajar door. Ilya merely shook his head.
"Did you want a drink?" Syrin asked.
"A beer would be good," he said.
Syrin turned to Lyra, "And wine for you?"
Lyra smiled and nodded, "Is Anneli here yet?"
"You know her," Syrin laughed, "Always late."
Gustav had been chatting to their other companion, Feliks, in the hallway and finally joined the three of them. Twenty minutes passed before Anneli joined them, making their group whole and allowing them to go on with dinner. After dinner came the birthday cake and once Natalie and Corvus had their fill they both found themselves crashing on the couch. Once they had been put to bed the adults began to unwind and chat over a few more bottles of wine, relaxing in the lounge.
"Horrible what happened at the World Cup," Gustav commented.
"What happened?" Lyra asked.
"Ireland won," Feliks said, "I was rooting for Bulgaria."
"Not that," Gustav said.
"Death Eaters," Syrin said with a grim look.
Lyra's blood ran cold. Goosebumps covered her flesh as the icy feeling ran through her veins and threatened to stop her heart. She placed her wine glass down on the table in fear of dropping it, her hands were trembling.
"Look, the Ministry isn't worried," Feliks shrugged, throwing his beer back.
"The Norwegian Ministry is," Syrin replied, "They're considering not letting us partake in the European League if the British Ministry don't take action."
"What actually happened?" Lyra asked in a weak voice.
"Just a bunch of Death Eaters terrorising the campers," Gustav said, "They've been trying to cover it up and make sure it doesn't spread but it's hard to keep a cap on such a big event. I wasn't there but another reporter told me. They said they were lighting peoples tents on fire, torturing muggles and the Dark Mark was in the sky."
"Those poor muggles," Anneli said, earning a scoff from Ilya.
"Aren't your parents Death Eaters?" Gustav asked, "I remember that article Skeeter wrote on you."
"Yeah," Lyra sighed, leaning onto the arm rest of the couch and holding her head up with her hand.
"What are Death Eaters?" Anneli asked.
"They're followers of that Dark Wizard in Britain, he called himself Voldemort," Gustav answered. Lyra winced at the use of his real name. "He was killed by an infant back when we first started school."
"He's nothing compared to Grindelwald," Feliks said cockily.
"They had the right idea though," Ilya chimed in, "The eradication of muggles, the subservience of mudbloods and the rule of the purebloods. That's the world I want to live in."
"But why would they do all that if he's dead?" Syrin asked, directing her question towards Lyra.
"It probably doesn't mean anything, right?" Anneli said, "Just a few extremists rioting because they can."
Lyra shook her head, "They wouldn't do that for no reason." She paused, all eyes set on her as she continued. She was petrified, not from the attention but of what she knew was to come. "There were rumours that he didn't die, that his soul was ripped from his body and is wandering the earth."
"And how do you know that?" Feliks asked in a flippant tone.
Lyra ignored his condescension and answered, "At first, none of the Death Eaters believed he died. They kept searching for the answers, my family spearheaded that operation but nothing came of it. After their arrest combined with the many others that followed the Death Eaters went quiet. Every time I went and saw my mother she'd ramble about it and tell me it was my duty to seek him out but I didn't want to."
"Then how do you know it's true?" Feliks said.
"As I said, they were just rumours," Lyra replied, "But Albus Dumbledore believed he'd come back."
Syrin began to look visibly upset at Lyra's words, "What will it mean?"
"Nothing," Ilya said, "We're safe, we're pure and we're far away from all that nonsense but I wouldn't mind joining Voldemort if he asked."
"Don't use his name," Lyra said, her eyes squeezed tightly.
"Why?" he asked.
"Why?" she repeated in an escalating tone before chuckling to herself, "Because you are not worthy to speak it. Do you know how many people I saw get torn apart just for using the Dark Lord's name?"
"How much did you see?" Anneli asked, "During the war?"
"Enough to be afraid," Lyra responded, the goosebumps still obvious on her skin as her thoughts drifted to old buried memories.