A/N: I totally forgot the disclaimer on the first one. Oops! Thanks to Sakura Liesel, ejemy, holliskipper5538, razzleberry 1, MissSadieKane, and for putting Bloodlines on alert or as a favorite. It means so much to me :) Also you might see some French in this, everything is google translated so beware of that. On with the story!
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling nor am I a muggle working under Bloomsbury/Scholastic Publishing.
Chapter One
September, 2017
Lyra Meadowes watched as children her age bid their farewells with reluctance. Her own parents had dropped her off an hour earlier. They did not want to be caught up in the swell of people.
The girl of eleven turned her attention back onto the train's seat, where she had laid out her copy of Camelot, In The Eyes Of Wizards.
She was on a particular chapter about Camelot's proposed location, when someone suddenly entered the compartment without knocking.
Bright hair slicked back, sharp aristocratic features, and calculating light green eyes. If he was not the Malfoy boy, Lyra would snap her own wand in half.
A brief moment passed where the two just measured each other up. Then the boy dropped his gaze to where her book remained open.
"My mother knows the author." He remarked in a blase manner.
Lyra flipped her book over and read the name printed on its spine—Wulfric Fawley.
"She also says that his books are often just old books bearing new names."
The girl frowned at his revelation. She had bothered her mother for a whole week before she got her to buy the book.
"I have only just started the third chapter. Do you know of better books?" Lyra inquired after closing her book shut.
The boy smirked and sat across from her, as if he had accomplished some great feat.
"Scorpius Malfoy." He introduced himself, his hand outstretched.
No wand breaking after all,, she thought.
"My name is Lyra."
"The constellation?" His green eyes sparked with curiosity
The girl shifted in her seat, knowing that she had to tread carefully.
"I suppose." She replied curtly.
The door of the compartment opened, saving her from Scorpius's prying eyes. She turned to the new person and found an older girl with dark complexion scowling down at her.
"Bloody tomatoes everywhere." She muttered before plopping herself beside Lyra.
"Hello Freya." Scorpius greeted the girl already donning her unkempt school robes.
"Scorpion. Girl." The older girl stiffly acknowledged before taking out the latest copy of Witch Weekly.
Lyra couldn't help but snort at Scorpius's nickname and decided to keep that in the back of her mind just in case the boy annoyed her.
"Lyra, this is Freya Zabini. She's my father's goddaughter and a fourth year Slytherin. Freya, this is Lyra…oh. I never got your last name." Scorpius introduced.
Meadowes. Black. Meadowes. Black.
"Meadowes." Lyra settled.
Lyra noted the slight change in the two's positions. The Meadowes were not a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but she couldn't very well say that she was from the ancient and noble House of Black. Not when her father was discreetly handling the delicate manners with the Wizengamot.
"Scorpion, how is your father?" Freya asked with her back facing Lyra, secluding her in the compartment's corner.
Lyra's stormy grey eyes narrowed onto the suddenly cold shouldered girl.
Fine! Who cares if she thinks I'm beneath her.
Lyra gathered her belongings and stood up from her seat, a tight lipped smile on her face. She did not even bother to say goodbye before leaving the compartment. But once she stepped out, she immediately regretted the act. She should not have left for she was the one who was there first.
Stupid! Now I'm left without a compartment.
"Anything off the trolley, dear?" A kind voice asked, breaking the girl's trance.
Lyra fished for a few sickles and ended with a couple of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and one bottle of iced pumpkin juice.
"A cauldron cake for me, madam." An airy voice said.
Lyra looked behind her and saw a tall girl with crystalline blue eyes and long blonde tresses, waiting with a shiny sickle in her pale hand.
Beside the willowy girl was a shorter version of her, except that the younger girl had pin straight hair.
"As much Jelly Slugs as a galleon can pay." The shorter girl said, handing over the galleon and pocketing the treats.
"Dominique look!" The older girl pointed at Lyra, befuddling the young girl.
The shorter girl, Dominique, focused her attention on Lyra and sent her a beaming smile.
"A firstie. Cute little thing." Dominique commented.
Lyra's face contorted from a slight grimace at being called 'cute' and 'little'. She was tall for her age, that she was certain was from her Meadowes blood.
The taller girl placed a dainty hand upon Lyra's shoulder and said, "Vous êtes
un cher."
"Come along little one, we'll introduce you to some of our cousins. Perhaps one will end up marrying you." Dominique casually told the young girl.
Lyra could not resist the girl's offer of hopefully finding a compartment, despite finding her statement a bit off-putting. The dark haired girl walked past many compartments before the other girls stopped in front of a rather occupied one.
Dominique was the first to enter, then Lyra, with the other girl staying outside.
"Take care sister, I must go to the Prefect meeting. À tout à l'heure."
Dominique blows her sister a kiss before pulling Lyra to the crowded seat.
"So tell me, what house do you think you will be put in?"
Unlike Freya or Scorpius, Dominique and her cousins did their best to include the young girl in their conversations. And so in that little compartment, Lyra Meadowes befriended Dominique, Molly, Fred, and Louis Weasley.
Leo Meadowes awoke to a scratching sound against his window. He stirred in his bed, careful not to wake his slumbering wife, and opened the window. He was nearly knocked back by a familiar bird.
"Avalon." Leo greeted his daughter's great-horned owl.
The bird snipped at his fingers when he tried to get the parchment tied to its leg. Leo sighed before shuffling to his desk and looking for his tin of bird treats. He offered it to the tawny feathered bird and smiled in relief when the owl accepted it.
Leo got the letter off of the bird and signaled for it to stay and wait for his response.
Dear Mum,
Hogwarts is as beautiful as you described it. Although I haven't explored as much as I'd like, I find that nothing in our journeys could compare to the magnificence. Yes, I am doing well, I have befriended some who are not in my grade. I have yet to get to know others my age, everyone seems to have already found their friends. The Weasleys are a funny bunch, there's a lot to be said of them—all positive of course. I'll write to you later in the week.
Dear Dad,
You were right. Headmistress McGonagall introduced me as Lyra Meadowes and not Black. Like mother, I was sorted by a talking hat. Do you think they clean it every year? It's rather unsanitary if you ask me. Anyways, it talked to me and told me that it knows my secret. What do I do? Have you already informed the headmistress about our situation? Oh, another thing, I've been sorted into Slytherin. I don't know what to make of my house, all I can gather is that the dormitories are much colder than I'm used to. Also Scorpius Malfoy is a Ravenclaw, thought you'd like to know.
Your loving daughter,
Lyra Meadowes-Black
One Month Earlier
Leo sneered at the grouchy goblins as they exited Gringotts with a large sum of galleons in tow. He had far too much distaste for the creatures once he was made aware that Saintly Potter had control of House Black's vaults.
So he did what he did best and sneered at every useless goblin they passed. That was until his lovely wife had sent him a rather scathing glare.
Behave or else, her round hazel eyes conveyed. He replied with a light tip of his head as they continued to follow their daughter towards Ollivanders.
Diagon Alley buzzed with many families, all with the same agenda. Parents scrambled to get their children the supplies they needed for the new school year, some without paying mind to what their children were doing.
Leo found it all to be overwhelming, his eyes widened at the sight of one colorful store, packed with young wizards and witches. He caught something flash like fireworks inside the densely packed store.
"You're like a little child." His wife whispered teasingly into his ear.
He turned to her with an affronted look, before she let out a peal of laughter.
The small family entered the wand shop, finding another family already waiting. Leo guided his eager daughter to the side, hoping to see what made Ollivanders so special.
He had been thinking of getting an Ollivander made wand, although his Hawthorn wand had never failed him.
"Cypress, unicorn tail hair, eleven inches. Sally Anne Perks." The old man, Leo assumed was the current Ollivander, intoned after the other family had shuffled away.
Leo watched with bemused eyes as the white haired wizard stopped in front of his wife.
"You remember?" Her wonder bled into her tone as she pulled out her wand.
Ollivander smiled cryptically before moving onto her husband.
"Not one of my own I see."
Leo nodded and took out his wand with a flourish, longing swelled in his heart for his old school.
"Is it my turn now?" Lyra asked timidly, so unlike the usual demeanor of his daughter. After all, Leo did not raise his only child to be a wilting flower.
They watched as the experienced wandmaker took their daughter's measurements. Leo didn't have to look to his side, to know that his wife was beaming with a proud smile.
It took two wands, an entire wall of boxes toppled over—Leo had thought that the powerful reaction meant that his daughter had found her wand—and another larger family donned in muggle apparel, before a flashing light filled the room.
He watched entranced, as the sleek wand in his daughter's hands let out a warm glow at its tip. Wind rushed through Lyra's ember locks, causing the girl to shield her eyes with her other hand.
"Willow, dragon heartstring, nearly twelve inches. A remarkable wand for a remarkable little lady." Ollivander mused.
"What does that mean?" Leo questioned, seeing as his daughter had now returned to his wife's side with an identical smile.
"It means that your daughter has great potential, and that a long journey is ahead of her. It also means that I have sold the last wand that my ancestor, Gwen the Gifted, has made." The sagely man replied.
Leo's eyebrows raised at his vague words.
Surely he can't have kept track of all the wands, he thought to himself as they left the quiet shop and into the crowded streets of Diagon Alley.
