The hot shower water stung my body; the radiation only holding for a mere few seconds before cascading off, leaving me damp and cold as an ended result. It wasn't a satisfying shower but my ignorance for personal care needed to be addressed. I felt a tingle of embarrassment that Draco had held me so close, not realizing this amount of desperation.
I wrapped my body in multiple layers, taking light note of my deteriorated form as I passed the bathroom mirror. The days were catching up to me in more ways than one and I hated to admit that Draco had been right. I had always been slender but not to the point where my ribs jutted out from beneath any layer of cloth. My body needed...something.
I pulled the last hooded sweatshirt from my trunk and slid it over my head. As I did, a loud thud crashed to the floor followed by a shattering of glass. Before me lay the dusty dark vial that Madam Pomphrey had given to me several weeks ago. No! The bottle of Wolfsbane had been broken onto the hard floor, spreading a thick green milky substance around my feet. It must've been stuck in the holds of the sweatshirt. Bloody hell. The liquid produced a pungent smell and lifted up into the air, terrorizing my nostrils. My stomach protested the scent like it was poison. I bent down to take some of the broken glass and desperately try to scoop up some of the vile substance but as soon as my fingers had touched the glass, the liquid soaked into the floorboards, vanishing before my eyes.
I sat defeated on the ground with the shards in my hands. Not even a drop had stayed. Well, there goes that idea. So much for preventing this. I sighed. This was just my luck. What now?
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Your going to be ok. Draco had mentioned someone could help. Calm down. I wasn't entirely sure if I had mentioned the personal stash of Wolfsbane I had stowed away, but if I had, it was a lost cause now. I could only be frustrated in myself. Taking the broken bottle, I shoved it into my jacket pocket and headed for the stairwell to the first floor.
Draco was awaiting me at the island counter with a cup of tea in one hand and the Daily Prophet in the other. He had just showered as well, his sleek hair plastered to his head. I couldn't help but notice his sharp attire. He was properly dressed for a funeral, business meeting, or elegant affair. Whatever it was for it suited him nicely. I distracted myself with focusing on the paper in front of him. Blaring across the counter resided a deathly familiar face.
Undesirable No. 1
Harry Potter
Harry's photograph bore still into my eyes. He is still alive!
Contact the Ministry of Magic immediately if you have any information canceling the whereabouts. Failing to report will result in imprisonment.
Slowly Draco caught my stare as I continued to skim the page. He lowered the paper to the table and took another sip of tea from his cup. My mind continued to linger on the news.
"Won't be long now I presume," he stated, breaking my trance. "Now that the Ministry is after Potter, he can't hide for long." I scowled at the remark.
"Am I to assume that Voldemort is behind this?" Why would the Ministry even want Harry in the first place?
"It's not just Harry. It's every mudblood loving traitor out there. Weasel Bee made the list too." He handed over the paper. I couldn't help but snatch it from his grasps and continue reading the front page.
Suspects in the former Headmaster's death include Kinsley Shaklebolt, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter, whom was last seen fleeing the scene of the murder.
"Draco… there's crucial pieces missing in this article. Harry had nothing to do with Dumbledore's death." My eyes darkened towards his direction. Draco's name wasn't mentioned at all, along with that sniveling Professor.
Draco shrugged to my comment and went back to sipping his tea. I shook my head and dropped the paper to the granite counter. This was the beginning of a new era. One influenced by Death Eater's themselves. My blood boiled at the idea of Snape getting off scot free.
"Don't worry, I still have trial, along with Snape. Just because it isn't the front lines, doesn't mean it isn't happening." Draco was getting better at this Legilimency thing without me noticing. He shifted in his seat slightly as I heard someone approach. A soft weight rested on the back of my chair.
"The Malfoy's have had more than an adequate amount of influence in the Ministry," a voice sounded from behind. I turned to look at the tall blonde that had snuck into our conversation. Her lips curled into a smile.
"To have one graze the front headlines of the Daily Prophet would be more of a detriment to the Ministry." Narcissa's eyes shot towards her son, quietly judging his smug look. She changed direction and went over, fixing a stray hair that had fallen from his face. Draco pulled from the attention but she persisted, her expression remaining...almost humble….as she looked at him.
The intimate moment was cut short when Quibbly arrived holding a huge, silver covered platter. She looked around nervously, hoping not to ruin the quiet moment and slightly cowered when Narcissa's eyes met hers. Softly she came over to me and stretched up onto her tippy toes to place the platter in front of me.
"For the misses," she squeaked. I glared at Draco (knowing this was his doing) before courteously nodding to the house elf. I grabbed a hold of the handle to the lid while retaining a narrowed glare at the boy across from me and cracked it slightly. A strong aroma of rosemary and lavender erupted from the plate. But when I was expecting a hot gust a steam to greet me, I was instead met with a red slab of raw meat.
"Red meat this early son?" Narcissa said bemused. Draco only smiled and looked towards the house elf. "Make another, and this one a tad more cooked please. Mother?" Narcissa just shook her head in detest.
"I'll stick with a traditional breakfast, thank you." Quibbly did something like a curtsy and scurried back behind some revolving doors to tend to her duties.
I looked down at the bloodied slab on my plate in mild disgust. The scent that the entrée had produced had not matched what lay before me.
"Draco, this is raw. I can't eat this." What was he doing?
"Sure you can." I gave him another disgusted look and closed the lid to the plate. My nostrils flared as the slight tang of blood pushed from beneath the enclosure. This wasn't happening. My body's reaction was reeling into a frenzy of want and need as my temperature rose and saliva started to form on the back of my tongue. I pushed the thought out with all of my ability. Raw meat? Surely I was lunatic.
Draco saw the clear discomfort I was presenting and frowned. "Stop protesting your hunger. Eat….please." His words were more of a command than a suggestion but I couldn't bring myself to look at the bright red cut that lay under the silver dome.
Saving my humility once again, Quibbly returned with another, larger tray, holding two platters. She presented Draco with his request while passing a small plate of scones and a hot cup of tea in front of Narcissa. But as soon as the house elf had left, Draco's eyes were on top of me again.
"Draco, I didn't come down for you to badger me about my well being."
"Actually, you did." Draco cut a nice chunk of prime rib off of his plate and shoved it into his mouth. He took the moment to finish chewing and swallow before giving me an awful grin.
"I know you want this. I can see it in your eyes. Nothing good will come of you forcing this feeling away, isn't that right mother?"
Narcissa looked somewhat shocked at the mention of her input. Is this why she was here? This was the person that was going to help?
"What I think you meant, Draco, is that well being presides over logic at this current moment." Could my day get any worse? I buried my face into my hands and stared down at the plate. My stomach started to rumble with the mixtures of smells that were filling the room. Both of the Malfoy's glares were upon me now, awaiting for me to give in. I sighed and slowly opened the lid, my senses spiraling out of control. This wasn't right. The strain of tendon hitting my knife made my body cringe as I cut a slice off the slab and popped it into its destination. What happened next was unexpected.
After this entire week of munching on odds and ends, never fulfilling my true hunger, this one bite of prime rib made its way through my body and fused with every ounce of need that I craved. And as soon as that one piece was snatched up and tore apart by my hunger did my body want more. Before too long (and without a care or notice in the world) I had finished the entire slab of raw meat. I was even slightly ashamed to have licked the juices off of my fingers when I was finished.
As I looked back up from my plate, I saw a wide eyed suit of blondes staring back at me in surprise. Draco face slowly spread into a grin as he spoke.
"And?"
The truth was that I was feeling better. Much better. Even after just a mere few seconds did my energy come back and a certain warmth returned to my core. But something was still missing.
I nodded in response. "A temporary fulfillment, yes, but…. it's not a cure."
The elegant blonde chuckled. "There is no cure for lycanthropy, dear." I sat and looked at her dumbfounded for a moment. No cure?!
"But….Draco…." I turned towards the boy with desperate eyes as he continued to look down meaninglessly at the plate in front of him.
The words hit me in the chest, forcing the realization upon my being. "You mean….I'll be like this…. forever?" The words barely escaped my lips before I felt tears stinging the back of my eyelids.
Narcissa looked up at me, true bafflement written over her acute features. "There may not be a cure but there's a way to control most side effects. I am sure you're not the first that bloody werewolf has attacked." A rain of disgust covered her face momentarily at the thought.
"And what happened to those people?" I questioned, which was only answered by the clanking of silverware left from Draco's plate. Just great. I shoved my hands in my pockets to find the broken pieces of glass that had broken earlier. By this point, the barrier my eyes had so graciously provided had now let their guard down and the tears began to flow down my cheeks in streams. Shamefully I wiped them with my sleeve and placed the broken pieces on top of the table before getting up to leave. There was nothing that could be done. Draco's 'secret weapon' did nothing but clarify that my life was doomed and I had just sacrificed every ounce of retaliation against this forsaken curse that had been placed on me.
As soon as my hand rested on the door frame did I hear momentary murmurs from the pair. Finally a chair scraped the floor and footsteps filled the desolate chill in the air, following me into the hallway.
"Where did you get this?" I sighed and turned to look at my captor who held the broken glass in his hands.
"School. It's the last that Madame Pomphrey had but …. I… I dropped it this morning and now… now….' my lip quivered and I turned away wanting to leave. I wanted everything but to admit my failure and defeat in front of this hierarchy of wizards. Draco quickly stepped in front of my exit, forcing me to stop in my tracks and face him. The hot tears sped down my cheeks feverishly now. With a swift hand, he held my face and softly wiped the wet streaks from their place. Our eyes met for a brief second; a firm affirmation of respect and sympathy burned from his expression.
"You cannot not run from this Lyra." I only shook my head in protest, trying to find words.
"You heard her, Draco. There is no cure. I …. " Draco stopped my half whisper with a roll of his eyes.
"You're being selective. Why don't you see what is left to offer?" He slowly raised his eyebrows awaiting me to regain my composure and head back to the counter.
Narcissa, who had been stiffly watching us in silence from the kitchens, now reached into a small pocket on the side of her silk robe and pulled out a small vial of deep emerald green liquid. She set it on the surface, replacing my broken one.
"Did it look like this?" Her thin lips curled slightly as she watched me eyeing the potion. The dark liquid rolled in the small bottle with the consistency that my Wolfsbane had but looked nothing like the color that had seeped into the floorboards less than an hour ago.
I took the vial into my hands and observed the black swirls that danced within the emerald sea of liquid before uncorking it. Immediately the familiar horrid smell erupted from the bottle, forcing my hand to push it far away from my nose. Narcissa lightly touched the back of her wrist to her nose to keep the smell from intrusion.
After a few dramatic gagging notions, Draco grabbed the vial from my grasp and recorked it quickly. The smell lingered somewhat but dissipated enough for all of our stomachs to return to a peaceful resting state. We all sat and stared at the wretched potion that lay before us. .
"Wolfsbane in its purest form. This should suffice to replace your treatments momentarily." Narcissa said curtly. Treatments? Regularity definitely hadn't been a priority during my stay here at the Manor.
Narcissa's bright blue eyes looked up at me, catching my reaction. "You have been taking this regularly, yes?" I gave her a blank stare, hoping not to spur any sudden arguments. Instead Draco caught on and started his scolding.
"Lyra….."
"Please, Draco," his mother hushed, making the boy stop talking immediately. He settled back in his seat and I sighed a small relief of thanks to the woman next to him.
"A few milliliters per dose will do. I suggest you moderate to your needs." As she spoke, she swiveled her wrist, producing a glass pipette and placed it next to the vial. I hesitantly took the long glass tube and eyed the measurements along the side.
"But how will I know how much?" I hated to confess that I hadn't done this before and my nerves prevented me from every trying.
Narcissa eyed my form before producing a solid answer, "two". I could feel their stares producing a cloud around me now as I just looked at the potion. It was daunting and who was to say Narcissa Malfoy knew anything about Lycanthropy? Draco had seemed pretty confident but it wouldn't be the first time he was wrong. I didn't dare question her authority or knowledge as that would skew any future endeavors in asking for help if it ever arose so I took the vial, uncorked it again, held my breath, and allowed the glass pipette to fill with the thick substance. Draco gave me an approving nod before I closed my eyes tight andtouched the tip of the tube to my tongue, cringing at the sour taste as it crept down my throat.
It took me a moment to actually swallow the Wolfsbane, my gag reflects going into full overdrive, but I did it. There was a quiet moment of silence as we all awaited to see what happened next. What I thought would make my stomach twist actually soothed it, calming the crashing waves of the sea and for a split second, I actually felt normal. No crave or thirst, my body was full and my mind was put to ease for once. It was delightful.
"Lyra, your color….." the blonde boy smiled at me from across the counter. I could feel my cheeks burn back to life with a strong vengeance, sending newly warmed blood down to my fingertips and toes. But as soon as the normal feeling came did it leave and turn into a hot, burning sensation that escalated into a fire I couldn't put out. Beads of sweat started to form along my hairline and the room started to spin. Desperate for air, I lunged towards the terrace doors, sending myself over the edge of control. Finally clinging to the stone railing, I let go of my stomach and hurled the hearty breakfast Quibbly made all over the bed of flowers below.
Sliding down the wall, I prayed that it was over. The sunlight stung my skin and equally heated my body from the inside and out producing another hot wave of bile from the pit of my stomach. Without much notice, my body lurched forward, spewing another load onto the ground. Please no. My stomach muscles contracted continuously as I clenched the railing for some support. My body was numb and bursting through flames by the minute.
A figure suddenly approached from the corner of my eye, still blurred from the sweat.
"Merlin. Lyra, what's going on!" Draco crouched down next to my form, keeping a safe distance from me.
"Water…. please."
"No. Don't touch her," a shakily voice sounded from behind us. A swift motion was felt behind me and soon I could feel her presence near my ear.
"Sorry I have to do this. Petrificus Prorsus."
Author's Note: There are 2 forms of petrification, one being the simpler 'petrificus totalis' that is used by many young wizards. The other was demonstrated by the Basilisk and by others that a powerful in dark magic and strikes the body still as is, not straight as a board. Narcissa, in a slight panic, used this to control Lyra's reaction to the potion, where she should've been more cautious about to begin with (especially with 100 % pure Wolfsbane oil). Needless to say, Draco's father will most definitely hear about this. The story continues. Please give suggestions and comments! There are days I feel super iffy about my work and others I feel like I rock. This chapter is not one of them. Please let me know how I can improve!
As always, thanks for reading xoxo
