Chapter 7: Backwards or sideways?
I don't own 'Harry Potter'
"Come on girls, we're leaving in a minute!"
Lyra looked down at the small child with bright blue eyes that were sparkling with excitement and had to resist the urge to use her as a human teddy-bear. She looked utterly adorable with her blonde hair in two low plaits hanging down her front, a leaf-green velvet dress with a wide skirt and black collar, white tights and black buckled shoes that were similar to what children wore to school.
Bella was right, Cissa was too cute for words.
It was still beyond strange trying to equate the regal and aristocratic woman that had become something of a regular visitor to Harry – much to the hilarious bewilderment of Draco – with the little girl who smiled widely at her family and enjoyed following her older sisters around like a happy duckling.
The other sisters were also prime examples of the weirdness of Lyra's life. Instead of an insane woman that had callously murdered her own cousin with unrepentant glee, there was a sly and cheerful girl who enjoyed emulating their aunts for her own amusement. Instead of a weary woman that had lost practically her entire family after running away from the Blacks, there was an enthusiastic and intelligent girl that prided herself on being a member of her birth family.
Merlin, her life was so bloody weird.
"I'm warning you, if you're not down here in twenty seconds I'm leaving without you!"
Blue eyes widened in panic and Narcissa grabbed her hand. "Ly! We've got to go!"
The words were accompanied by a truly valiant attempt from the three-year-old to drag her through their home towards the front room, before the younger girl decided racing ahead to their escort was the best course of action.
Lyra smiled as platinum blonde hair flew around the corner and vanished as quickly as Cissa's legs could take her. Not that Lyra was worried. Their grandfather Pollux might enjoy acting like a hard-arse and threatening them with missing out, but she was more than aware the man doted on his grandchildren too much to actually follow through, especially with something like this.
She wandered through the hallway and wondered what Pollux had originally done when Voldemort surfaced. Did he support him eagerly? Scoff at someone trying to gain support from The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black? Or did he carefully weigh up the options and decide to throw his lot in with whichever faction seemed most likely to win? If I told him and Granddad Arcturus …
Stop. Now.
The girl mentally shoved her thoughts towards the back of her mind and resolved to ignore them for the rest of the day. Today was about her family, not obsessing over how much she'd been fucked over in terms of Tom-bloody-Riddle and Albus Dumbledore.
She finally got to the sitting room where the large, ornate fireplace sat and saw the three sisters chatting happily about their imminent outing without a care in the world. Her grandfather was lounging against the wall across the room surveying the scene, his usually cold slate eyes almost glowing with warmth as he looked at his young granddaughters.
Her dad wasn't here for once, the man working in his gallery trying to negotiate with a difficult customer over the price of one of his paintings. (Alphard Black might be well-off – filthy rich by some standards – but he was a bit of a stingy bastard that refused any but the best price for what he did. Lyra just wondered why people were so blind about her father's personality. Nice? Please.)
"Right, is everyone ready?"
Three young voices all excitedly spoke over one another and Lyra couldn't help but remember her own children with Gin, the three of them babbling and bouncing around whenever they got to go out as a family. It was bittersweet really; it'd been decades since her kids were this young, and she still couldn't get past how much she missed having children around.
She blinked before she smiled ruefully, almost shaking her head at her thoughts. Jesus Christ, I'm getting broody at the age of eleven. Dad would have a coronary if I told him that. Lyra briefly imagined the hilarity that would no doubt come with telling Alphard Black that he was going to be a grandfather before stifling her laughter and turning back to her own grandfather.
(She wasn't too annoyed; she was sure she'd get the chance to enjoy his panic in a few years' time.)
"Come on then, we're heading out."
Lyra moved forward and held onto Andi and Cissa's hands, Bella being a serious and devoted sister and taking Cissa's other hand to ensure the toddler didn't make a break for it. The four girls followed their grandfather out the front of their townhouse and down the steps, not bothering to lock the door considering the number of protection and concealment spells on the property. (Lyra had originally thought it was a tad overkill, but then she remembered having to be talked down by her exasperated ex-wife about putting a tracker on their daughter. Fathers got weird when it came to their little girls.)
She and the elder Black directed the girls towards the expensive-looking car parked just outside and helped them get inside the back, making sure they were fastened securely and comfortably. Not that Pollux hadn't covered every inch of his beloved 1955 Chrysler Imperial with every legal spell he could think of. And of course every illegal one that wouldn't be noticed.
It was hilarious to think that her proud pure-blood grandfather had a thing for muggle cars, but she supposed his regular outings into the non-magical world were more than enough to give him an obsession. Long-term exposure, and all that.
"Ly, aren't you sitting with us?" Bella asked with a frown. She was so cute.
Lyra smiled as she helped Cissa with her skirt. "I'm sitting in the front with Granddad."
Pollux turned around in his seat. "Lyra, is everything done?"
"Yes, Granddad. I'm just coming."
She took a moment to smooth Cissa's dress and tuck one of Bella's mad curls behind her ear before getting out the car and closing the back door, then getting in the front and revelling at the softness of the seats. There's no way this comfort isn't magic-induced.
It was quite a nice experience, though; Pollux was exceedingly protective of his car and hardly let anyone near it. Lyra hadn't ever ridden in it before, something about her grandfather wanting her to get used to other muggle vehicles before going for a ride in something worth a small pile of gold. Though she was fairly certain there was some other reason the insane man didn't want to share his car. Besides, it wasn't as if she could say that she'd been driving for decades and really wouldn't be shocked by anything.
The elder Black smiled at each of the girls before he turned back to the steering wheel with a grin that struck her warning instincts like a gong. "Well then, off we go."
With that, Pollux Black put his foot down hard and sent them flying down the streets of London at a criminally-high speed that had Lyra clutching her seat with wide eyes and mentally praying not to die while reciting every protection and healing spell her panicked mind could recall.
Belatedly, she remembered that the crazy man sat next to her was originally the grandfather to the adrenaline junkie, motorcycle-owning Sirius Orion Black of the future.
She revised her earlier statement about not being shocked by her grandfather.
If I live, I'm never trusting this bastard again.
Lyra didn't remember much of Granddad Arcturus' father, Lord Sirius Black. She knew that her early years had been spent with her father fervently keeping her away from Black Manor and the Head of their family as much as possible, so much so that he'd enlisted Aunt Coris as her primary tutor to seemingly appease the bastard and keep him away from their small family unit. After all, having Lord Black's very own daughter instruct the newest Black on magic and their society was clearly a sign of respect and a way of adhering to the family's rules.
Or it would have been if Lycoris Black hadn't hated her father with a passion and happily acquiesced to anything Alphard wanted from the woman for his daughter. Lycoris had of course been her primary tutor during her childhood, but Lyra had received a very balanced education instead of the fanatical pure-blood supremacist ideals that Sirius had wanted to impart on her.
Sirius had died a few months before her fifth birthday, and it was at that point her family began to relax more openly with one another. Revealing certain pastimes and proclivities that the previous Head would have despised, not to mention becoming more open with one another, were just some of the changes brought by that specific death.
Lyra didn't remember much of that Sirius Black, but what she did know was that the man would have had an aneurysm if he'd seen their outing that winter.
Being driven across London in a muggle car, walking through the busy streets rather than avoid the foot traffic altogether, and even making their way towards a muggle entertainment venue, the trip of Pollux Black and his granddaughters would have made Lord Black furious and they all probably would have been disinherited on the spot. Or killed.
"Long time no see, Brother."
Not to mention the Squib brother.
Marius Black, disinherited at the age of eleven for having no magic, and Lyra's great-uncle. The man was her grandfather's younger and only brother, and the two siblings were extraordinarily close considering Marius' status. Or past status, anyway. For whatever reason Marius had been brought back into the family by Arcturus when the old Lord Black bit the dust, so he was quite free to interact with the Blacks without fear of retribution.
The circumstances of Marius' disownment were something Lyra was completely blank on. Pollux was incredibly tight-lipped about his brother's childhood, and even as the Head of the Black family Harry hadn't ever found out the truth.
She did know that her great-uncle had surprisingly married a witch as opposed to running from all magic entirely. From what she'd gathered of reading between the lines, Marius' childhood exit from the House of Black definitely hadn't been amicable or even simple, as such Lyra was struck by the man's choice to bind himself to a magical through marriage.
It wasn't anything against Squibs, but nearly all of them tried to ignore magic entirely, opting to marry muggles and integrate themselves into the non-magical world. That Marius Black had married a witch – Melania's niece, in fact – meant that he'd willingly kept himself surrounded by the magic he couldn't use. It was intriguing, to say the least.
Her grandfather beamed and clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Marius! Good to see you! How's Felicia doing?"
The other man nodded with a small but genuine smile. "She's doing fine. The Healers have said she's recovering well, she just needs some bed rest and she'll be back to normal in a few weeks."
Marius turned to her and the other girls. "If everything goes well you should be able to come and see your newest cousin before school starts up again. I'm sure she'd love to meet her other relatives," he finished with a grin.
Lyra knew full well a – regular – new-born baby wouldn't remember jack shit and therefore had no concept of meeting people, but she appreciated the offer all the same. Uncle Marius' wife had just given birth for the second time, and he was now the proud father of two daughters, the two-year-old Hadriana and the baby Tatiana. Lyra was sure that both girls would also be magical, given that Marius was technically a pure-blood and had also married a pure-blood. It also begged the question of what the hell had happened to Marius' family in her first life, but she wasn't likely to figure things out any time soon, if at all.
Oh well, it's not as if it really matters. Granddad Arcturus clearly doesn't give a shit about continuing as his dad did, and everyone acting as decent human beings can only be good. Still not going to relax though, this family's still batshit insane. Her heart rate could attest to that, that's for sure.
"You should tell Aunt Felicia she's lucky, Uncle Marius. If she'd had to share a car with Granddad, she'd have been begging for forced bed rest," she added flatly with a glare to her unrepentant grandfather. He really was a bastard.
"I've said it before and I'll say it again, there is not a single thing wrong with my driving."
The casual reply did not impress her at all. "Of course, Grandfather. That's why your other three granddaughters look to be a second from passing out where they stand."
She and the two men looked sideways to see three small girls stood frozen with shock and fear, practically clinging to each other as they tried to remain upright. Lyra looked back at Pollux and glared. 'Nothing wrong', my arse.
Said man grimaced and winced. "Okay, I'll concede that I should have slowed down a little."
"A little?" Lyra questioned incredulously. Did this man have no concept of what was appropriate for children? How did her father survive to adulthood?
"Ignore him, Lyra. Pollux has always lacked common sense. It's a miracle he manages to function in his day to day life."
The wounded expression on her grandfather's face at Marius' words made her snort before she broke down laughing, furthered by the smirk on her uncle's face and the happy grins of her cousins now they weren't paralysed by fear.
It was such a surreal experience to be stood there in muggle London laughing and having fun with her family, especially when you considered the general opinion of her family in the magical community. A straight-laced pure-blood, a disowned Squib, and four young girls that many saw as nothing but future brides were all convened together and having fun as human beings without magic interfering at all.
Things in Lyra's life really were weird.
"Anyway," Marius added before Pollux could start ranting, "the play's about to start, so we'd better hurry so we get our seats before the curtains open."
Lyra tilted her head back so she could look the stupidly-tall man in the eyes. "Uncle Marius, what are we even seeing?"
"That, my dear niece, is a surprise." A large hand came to rest on her hand before gently ruffling her curls. "Don't worry, I'm sure the four of you will enjoy it."
A play that we'll all like? The likelihood was small but she'd give the man the benefit of the doubt. After all, Marius Black did manage to remain at least half-sane after growing up with her grandfather, so there had to be a smart mind behind the intimidating exterior.
"Come on then. In we go before I get any more attacks about my person."
She scoffed. "Granddad, if you honestly think a change of location is going to do you any favours on that front, then I would seriously suggest having a Healer take a look at your head. Delusions like that can't be a sign of anything good."
There was a beat of silence before Marius roared with laughter, catching the attention of a dozen people around them as he bent double holding his stomach. Giggles erupted from her smaller cousins to the side as she smirked at the gaping man in front of her, quite happy to get one over on him for once. Take that, you snarky wanker.
Pollux looked simultaneously bewildered and approving, faintly answering, "I'm not sure whether I should be more offended or impressed. Your verbal quips are delightful to listen to, though I do not feel happy being the target of them.
"Bravo, Granddaughter, bravo."
"Thank you," she replied primly, inwardly thanking the Draco Malfoy of her past life for being the perfect inspiration for verbal sparring. (He might have been a twat, but the things that came out of his mouth were works of art. Not that Harry had ever admitted that to the smug git, his ego had been big enough as it was.)
Lyra grinned at the exasperated look on Pollux's face as he corralled her cousins into behaving and followed them into the muggle theatre.
I never thought I'd be here as a Black.
Lyra walked back into her bedroom and closed the door, activating the privacy ward that her father had installed on the off chance that someone might try and get in her room. (Say what you will about Alphard Black's personality, but he was serious about the protection of his only daughter.)
It was strange that being a member of a traditional pure-blood family that was fully immersed in the magical world had granted her more opportunities to enjoy outings in the muggle world than growing up in muggle Surrey had, but Harry's life hadn't ever really been the definition of the word 'fair'. It wasn't as if the Dursleys had ever been happy taking Harry out in public where others might connect the small boy to the oh-so-normal family of three.
Pollux wasn't like that, and today's trip to London was just the most recent in a string of trips to wherever the man felt like. Of course things had essentially ground to a halt what with her being in school now, but the crazy schedule for her Yule break seemed to trying to make up for her absence in the past few months. (Both her father and grandfather were certifiable, she was sure of it.)
Today had actually been rather enjoyable, and Uncle Marius had been right about all of the girls enjoying the play. She thought it was a little odd that Shakespeare was playing at this time of year, but A Midsummer Night's Dream was the perfect production for people of all ages to enjoy. Bright and colourful costumes, mischievous antics, beautiful dialogue, there was something for everything and the girls loved it so much they didn't want to leave.
It was nice, she thought, having some down time to take her mind off her hectic life. Between ensuring she was at the top of her class, playing mediator between her roommates, and being 'friends' with Eleonora Fawley, she had barely any time to herself at school.
Not to mention that.
Lyra looked at the trunk sat in the corner of the room, the innocuous-looking design obscuring the truth inside. Granted it was extraordinarily expensive, made of imported African blackwood covered with a sheen that highlighted the fine grain and craftsmanship, and covered with a somewhat-ostentatious Black family crest in the centre, but it still looked to be an ordinary trunk.
Inside was a different matter.
Being friends with a woman that married the grandson of a man with unique – and brilliant – capabilities with charms had granted Harry a wealth of knowledge when it came to wizarding space and how to modify it to suit whatever purpose he wanted. A wealth of knowledge Lyra had continued to put to good use in this lifetime.
The girl walked forwards and bent down, pressing her finger against a sharp spike at the corner of the trunk lid so it would accept her blood and watched as the wood glowed for a second before a sharp click echoed around her room.
She pressed a discrete button located amongst the engravings and opened the lid, looking at the ladder inside. In practically no time at all Lyra was down inside the trunk and looking around the expansive front room that made up the entire apartment inside her trunk.
Newt Scamander really needed a letter of thanks. Maybe she'd send him a book on muggle animals.
The man's infamous suitcase had been studied by his grandson Rolf, and the cheerful man had been glad to share the knowledge of how to create rooms and habitats and whatever the hell you wanted inside of something that should only be a few feet wide. It was quite lucky when she thought about it, especially with her current research.
Lyra turned to the wall on her left and surveyed the notes and pictures stuck to the wall. Lists and links and ideas surrounded one particular name in the centre, a name that had really and truly managed to fuck with her mind so much so that being trapped in the House of backstabbing snakes seemed like a walk in the park in comparison.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
She'd put this research off long enough by now, especially with her ill-fated trip to The Room of Requirement to look for the shitty diadem. Her life was complicated enough without the prospect of two wars in the next few decades, but Lyra knew herself enough that she wouldn't be able to just sit idly by as Voldemort destroyed their world and tried to take over. Her family would be prime targets what with their physical strength and political power, and it was something she was loath to simply ignore because of its difficulties.
And it was difficult, no doubt about it. Harry Potter or Lyra Black, neither had ever been in the prime position to really and truly know Voldemort, and the time period in which she lived was nothing but a massive 'fuck you' to her efforts in killing the bastard. Knowledge was something she sorely lacked here, and it was going to be the furthest thing from easy to get even the slightest bit closer to knowing enough to act decisively.
Once more, Albus Dumbledore could go fuck himself.
Before she and Gin had started doubting the old bastard they'd quite happily visited his portrait from time to time, but as her fiery wife had started to realise Harry's lack of knowledge of the wizarding world as a whole they'd started questioning all manner of things. Why hadn't Harry gone to live with any of his paternal relatives? Why did he arrive at Hogwarts ignorant of magic? How come he knew nothing about his inheritance?
It was a domino effect of suspicion and accusation.
"How dare that sanctimonious, passive old wanker sit there and have the audacity to say it was 'necessary'?! Necessary?! You know what is necessary? Setting fire to that bloody portrait and preserving the memory for my own fucking enjoyment!"
(Harry had honestly been more impressed with his wife's expanding vocabulary than her violent threats. Not that he'd said that to her, of course. He'd learnt some self-preservation.)
Lyra supposed one of the biggest slaps to the face came from the headmaster's admission that he himself didn't objectively know anything about Voldemort's life and had therefore been working off theories and ideas with a few facts sprinkled in to make it seem like gospel. Lying piece of shit.
Harry had been running up and down the country with his two best friends working off the vaguest instructions which in turn had been based off of nothing more than what Dumbledore thought was the truth. Not the definite truth, just the belief of a self-absorbed old man whose confidence bordered on arrogance too much to see the folly of his actions.
Dumbledore hadn't known definitively when all the Horcruxes were made, he hadn't known the identities of all the victims used in the process, and he sure as hell hadn't known when they were placed in the spots Harry found them in.
This included the diadem.
Harry had guessed that the heirloom of Rowena Ravenclaw was placed in The Room of Requirement during Riddle's interview with Dumbledore after he became Headmaster, as apparently it was only after this event that the Defence position seemingly became cursed. Why wouldn't the two things have been connected?
But the truth of the matter was that Tom Riddle had already applied for a teaching position at Hogwarts at this point in time after he graduated, but because nothing overtly untoward had happened at the school the event had been written off as inconsequential.
Riddle could have placed the diadem Horcrux then, and Albus Dumbledore had admitted it was possible.
That admission was a sledgehammer against Harry Potter's trust in the Headmaster, trust that began to crumble with alarming speed as the old man casually mentioned that each and every Horcrux hadn't been where they were in the future always, and he honestly had no concrete evidence as to where they were before Harry's teens.
The Horcruxes had been moved around over the decades according to Voldemort's whims and Dumbledore hadn't had any irrefutable proof as to where they were. The fact that Harry had managed to kill the insane monster was pretty much down to, as McGonagall would call it, "sheer dumb luck".
"Truer words have never been spoken," she muttered.
Lyra sighed and ran a hand over her face roughly. She had no bloody idea when the Horcruxes were made other than them all being done in the forties except Nagini and her future-self decades later, only Merlin knew where they were right now – though she had an idea for one of them, at least – and she still had to figure out if they were even a problem to begin with.
As much as it pained her to admit it, there still existed the possibility that Tom Marvolo Riddle existed as a regular person or even a good person in this world. There was a chance that she was in an alternate universe seeing as how her original life had gone on without 'Lyra Black' even existing, and if that were the case then she was really and truly screwed.
Though I'm still kind of screwed as it is seeing as how there's no way to even know if I'm in the same world as before or not. God, this is like Luna levels of mad.
She looked up at the wall and flicked her eyes over her notes. She'd only written them down just so she knew definitively that she could remember everything, and even that had had to wait until her core got strong enough to charm the fuck out of her trunk so nobody could get inside without hurting herself.
Lyra Black gazed into the copied picture of the Slug Club with Tom Marvolo Riddle surrounded by his adoring peers and nodded decisively before grabbing some parchment and a quill.
Now, who exactly are this Tom's very first minions?
A/N: Hello people!
Firstly: I'm sorry this is a bit late! Working 8-9 hour shifts with at least 3 hours travel doesn't leave me with a lot of time, especially because this week I had a mixture of day and overnight shifts so I was exhausted trying to adjust my sleeping pattern. I know I'll like the money come payday, but being an adult is exhausting lol
Secondly: I know quite a few people asked about the diadem thing, pointing out that it wasn't put in the RoR until Tom interviewed with Dumbledore, but I feel like in canon we really didn't know things definitively about Tom Riddle's life. Not to mention this story has Dumbledore as a rather untrustworthy figure, meaning what he would project as the truth isn't what was really the truth. In this, Lyra was acting on the possibility that Riddle put the diadem in the RoR when he interviewed for the DADA straight after graduating. I'll also be adjusting the dates of the Horcruxes and canon facts about them as I see fit for this fic, so just a heads up for when I explain more about them later on.
Thanks for reading, and sorry again this was delayed!
Happy reading :D
