Chapter 1

Lrya Malfoy hated filth.

Not the dirt on the ground, but the people that were just as defiled. Mudbloods. Even the word left a wretched aftertaste in her mouth.

She stared down at her hands folded neatly in her lap, taking in the perfectly rounded tips of her fingernails and the light sheen coating them. She absently wondered what she would do when at Hogwarts when it came to personal maintenance. It was to be her first year, but even so a Malfoy could be seen as nothing less than perfect. No excuses.

"I'm sure you know I called you here about Hogwarts," her father deadpanned, staring calmly at her.

Lrya tilted her head slightly towards her father, keeping her face calm and void of emotions before giving a deft nod.

"Your mother and I will be taking you to Diagon Alley in a week's time. All your necessities will be accounted for then."

Lrya only shook her head again, arching a brow in question. Father wouldn't have pulled her aside just to say this. Normally everything was told to her brother, as heir of the family and being a year older.

"We have always told you that you were betrothed, but never said who. We decided now that you are going to Hogwarts you are to be informed of this, as your betrothed knows who you are and of this pact." He took a moment to readjust his collar thoughtlessly. "You are to marry the Flint boy."

Lyra couldn't help the face she made then. The reveal was shocking to say the least.

"I understand your worry," he said immediately. "But it was either him or Yaxley. I am not so cruel to do that to my only daughter, the blood of my being. Yaxley may be of the Sacred Twenty-Eight but he is old, to put bluntly. I do not think you could ever be happy with him, and with his penchant for cruelty I did not want to perchance it. Marcus Flint is of the Twenty-Eight, and only six years your senior. He is the only one fit for a union with a Malfoy."

By her father's tone she could tell he was alluding to the blood traitors and mudblood lovers that were still in the Sacred- Twenty Eight. The Weasley's were impoverished, with more children than galleons to their name. Not to mention their garish hair color.

Then there was Amycus Carrows, who her father had not even deemed to mention even though he was neither of sullied blood or a traitor, thankfully. She had met Amycus once at the Christmas Ball her family held faithfully each year. She had been nine at the time, and at first been charmed by this older, if a bit rugged, man who had so eloquently kissed her hand and asked for a dance. It wasn't until they parted that their eyes met, his filled with scheming and murderous intent. It had frozen her where she stood and only after her father had placed his hand firmly on her shoulders and given her an out had she truly been able to flee. It could have been a horrible social faux, but thankfully her father had been watching her with keen eyes as always.

Neville Longbottom was a blood traitor, and if rumors were true a bumbling idiot. The Macmillan's were only a shadow of their former selves, reduced to being Hufflepuffs or obsessed with their studies. Sometimes both. It was a feat in itself that they were still purebloods. Luck had been kind to them. All the rest of their peers in the circle were either married, already had a betrothed, or merely inadequate. A Malfoy always got the best, and none of those options seemed optimal.

She thought about Marcus Flint, of his enormously large, crooked teeth and abhorrent posture. She figured he was as dumb as a rock, but at least he could be kind. She had seen him before, at parties and such. He had always watched her thoughtfully, and when she would catch him he would smile softly before breaking eye contact. His behavior had never made sense to her before, but now it did. The Flints were well off too. Nowhere near the Malfoy's wealth in galleons, but she would never become an indigent beggar like the Weasley's. Maybe she could get used to his teeth; maybe he wouldn't expect her to kiss him that much when they married.

"Do not be frightened. You will not wont for anything. You will still get the full Malfoy backing, and I will help Flint to find a Ministry job appropriate for his talents if needed. As for his appearance, I am sure it will improve after puberty. If not I'm sure there is a spell or two."

Once when Lyra had been listening through the door in her father's study, she overheard a French ambassador asking for a betrothal pact with the man's son to her. Father had politely declined, stating he already had plans for her. At first Lyra had been thankful. She didn't want to go and live in a foreign country, speaking a language that was not her first tongue. She would be far from her family, and all alone.

But then she began to wonder exactly what her father's plans were. It had worried her, and after nearly a week of restless nights she had gotten the courage to ask.

"Do not fret over such things. I would not allow you so far from home." Father reached his hand down, caressing her cheek softly. It had taken her by surprise. Her father rarely gave any of his family physical forms of affection. "Besides, I had already entered into a betrothal pact for you last year. When you are older and more mature I shall sit you down and tell you all about it."

Apparently this day was today.

Lyra fought to stop herself from gnawing on her cheek, a nervous trait she had been waging war against for years to cure herself of. It was not appropriate. A Malfoy should never show emotions, because by showing them you gave your opponent a clear advantage. When you were a Malfoy everyone wanted something from you. Charity. Power. Glory.

Betrothals.

As far as she knew her brother was still free of the latter. Something she hoped was soon remedied. He was beginning to like that pug-faced girl a little too much.

"You have always been good at hiding your emotions, unlike your brother." He sighed in disgust, shaking his head with narrowed eyes. "He is too easy to bait. But you on the other hand, you have taken to my teachings very well."

She allowed herself a small smile, more of a smirk really. Her father did not hand out compliments easily and she could not help but feel pride at his comment.

"Thank you father," she said demurely, bowing her head.

He nodded, breathing in deeply. "This is why I've chosen you for this task. Your brother is incapable of hiding his true feelings, and prone to inappropriate bursts of emotions. I think you could easily hide your own if tasked to do so."

"I am capable of this father," she agreed in a good mood after his paid compliment.

Draco was often praised. Sometimes Lyra felt bereft and neglected because of that. He had always been favored because he was the future of the Malfoy's. Mother doted on him, and father bought him ludicrous things that he asked for such as wobby-planks nozzles that apparently helped with balancing on a broomstick, or a Foe-glass that he for some reason or another needed in order to deem how worthy people were before allowing them to enter into a friendship with him. Both completely useless things, but Draco could find a need for any small want. It seemed to be a talent of his.

"I thought as much." He stared at her thoughtfully, rubbing at his chin. "Cornelius Fudge has been abysmal at leading the Wizarding World. Not only does he allow the mudblood swine to thrive, but he encourages it. Traditional values have been pushed to the side, and more blood traitors and mudblood lovers are popping up than ever before. This needs to end, does it not?"

Lyra quickly agreed. She hadn't even realized all of this, not being an avid politics follower. She viewed it as Draco's job since he would be the future head of the House of Malfoy. Lyra was meant to be a housewife, to be pampered and to birth pureblood heirs. Her mother had told her so many years ago when she began to ask why her older brother got to go to so many places with their father while she was forced to stay home.

"There are good and bad things about this, my sweet. Do not dwell on the negatives. I had a sister who did that, and now she is my sister no more."

"What do you mean?" Lyra asked curiously, her little fist balled as she attempted to stop from vibrating in excitement. Mother could only mean Aunt Bella. Lyra thought perhaps when someone went to Azkaban they stopped being your family, and when they got out you gained them back. Mother didn't talk much about Aunt Bella, so anything she heard about this mysterious woman was exciting for her.

"She was disowned, burned right off the family tree. What was once three is now two, and it is sad indeed."

Her stomach still plummeted when thinking about it. The woman must have been horrible to be disowned, for that was the severest punishment of all. Over the years her mind had cooked up a plethora of things that aunt could be. She had grown to hate this invisible, absent woman who had abandoned her family for something as trivial as love. Family was what mattered, and this woman who had no name for Lyra's tongue to speak had abandoned them all for it.

"If I told you to be civil to mudbloods, could you do it?"

Lyra swallowed thickly, her mouth suddenly feeling parched. "I could."

He nodded as if that could have been her only answer, as if he expected it of her. That sinking feeling entered her again, making her feel physically ill.

"Could you do it for a length of time, perhaps years even?"

"I would do anything for you father."

Loyalty was deeply ingrained in her. For Lyra's entire life she had always been told family was the most important thing. She would do anything her father asked her, anything.

"Good, then I need you to be sorted into Gryffindor."

Hello everyone! This is my first Harry Potter fanfic, so I'm really excited! I haven't finished writing it so I'm not sure how long it's going to be, but I'm currently on chapter 18 and by my estimates a little before the half mark in my story. I'm assuming I'll have thirty-something chapters by the time I finish. Possibly more depending on how I want to finish writing the last few chapters. I am thinking the rating will eventually go up to M. I would also like to thank my lovely beta DonghaeLevi for helping me edit my story.

Warnings: character death and violence; if anything else comes up I'll post a warning in the beginning of the chapter before

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns her characters and the HP world

Beta: DonghaeLevi