This chapter is dedicated to Allie. Thanks for reviewing almost every chapter! I always enjoy reading your reviews. :)
Chapter 11
Lyra smiled as her best friend slammed the trolley door closed in a flourish, practically jumping on top of Lyra in some semblance of a hug.
"I missed you so much Lyra! We should hang out during the summer! I don't know why we never do."
Probably because Romilda was always so caught up in her story book romances each summer, but then again Lyra had never suggested it either. Not that it would be easy to convince her parents that this was needed in order to keep her 'cover.'
"All your letters were about that Robby guy. What else were you up to?"
Romilda flushed, her hair draping onto her face as she stared near the floor. "Robby was amazing Lyra. He was so sweet!"
Lyra remembered reading in Romilda's letters how he always opened doors for her, and held her hand all the time. Lyra had never felt much draw from that strange tradition that boys and girls seemed to uphold. Did holding hands make someone closer?
"I let him touch me," Romilda whispered, glancing up to catch Lyra's expression with some worry.
Lyra's eyes bulged.
Lyra was pretty sure she had never looked so undignified in her life. "What do you mean you let him touch you? As in touch? Or touch, touch?"
"Touch," Romilda confirmed gravely. She sighed, staring up at the ceiling as she sprawled out across the bench. "He was just so charming."
Lyra quieted. "Was it… nice?"
"Oh, Lyra! It was so nice! I mean, it was weird at first," Romilda said with a thoughtful expression, brows drawn and lips scrunched. "But then it was nice!"
"Girls!" Ginny shouted, slamming the trolley door open rambunctiously. The whole compartment rattled with how roughly she did it. "What have your summers been like? Lyra, you grew boobs! Why didn't I see them at the Quidditch match?"
Probably because her mother had been insisting on that baggy cloak.
"No I didn't!" Lyra shouted immediately, bringing a self-conscious hand up to her chest. She had been sorely lacking in that department before. Lyra had been flatter than a board until now. Romilda and Mary still had bigger boobs, despite Lyra's sudden growth spurt. Lyra's were nothing to brag about, but at least she had them unlike before. "Romilda is letting boys touch her privates!" Lyra burst out in a panic, hoping desperately to take the attention off of her own budding femininity.
It was quite comical the look Ginny made on her face, glancing back and forth between Lyra's expectant expression and Romilda's horrified one.
"Lyra!" Romilda finally said. "Just shout it to the world!"
"Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to! I just couldn't-" Lyra trailed off, glancing at Romilda sheepishly.
Ginny slammed the door shut, hurrying over to Romilda. "Are you serious? You can't be, can you?"
A dreamy look passed across Romilda's face making Ginny burst out into little giggles. The door opened once again, this time a head of familiar brown appeared.
"It was so hard finding you guys! Why did you guys have to pick the very last trolly?" Mary complained, staring at them petulantly. "I thought I passed you."
"Romilda is a right floozy now Mary," Ginny said proudly.
"Shut it!" Romila screeched, burning red. But the smile on her face gave her away.
"What does that even mean?" Mary snorted, shoving her trunk away with some difficulty before sitting next to Lyra.
"It means Romilda has moved onto more than kissing," Lyra whispered.
"WHAT!? ROMILDA HAS BEEN HAVING IT OFF IN SOME BROOM-"
"No, no, no!" Romilda hurried to cut Mary off with wide eyes. "We touched! You know? Touched each other? That's all." Romilda gestured towards the general direction of her chest, and then after hesitating pointed towards her lower parts too.
Mary's mouth opened then closed, before repeating the gesture. "Good." When Mary realized what she said, she burned scarlet. "I mean, it's not good! Wait, not that it's bad. It's neither good nor bad. I-ugh," she stuttered out, giving up with a face palm. Romilda and Ginny giggled before trading their kiss stories.
Ginny and Romilda had always been more adventurous than Lyra and Mary. Both of them had their first kiss last year. Mary was waiting on someone special, but Lyra didn't see the point in kissing anybody. She was already betrothed. Her parents had done all the work for her. She wouldn't have to go through heart break and crying and chasing after boys that would never want her. It was a relief, really.
At least in Lyra's eyes. When she shared this with the girls last year they looked at her as if she was a blast-ended skrewt that had been let loose on Hogwart's grounds.
"He kind of looked like Harry, now that I think about it," Romilda said absentmindedly, rubbing her chin. "He had black hair, although his eyes were blue. He even wore glasses, not round though. No one wears round glasses but Harry Potter."
"I think it's a tradition," Ginny muttered. "My mum said Harry's dad wore circular glasses too."
"What a strange tradition," Romilda frowned.
Ginny shrugged. "Purebloods have all sorts of wonky customs. The Prewetts have always done the sweater thing, which is why my mum always gives them away at Christmas. She was a Prewett before she got married. The Malfoys have that no facial expression thing too."
"All purebloods do that!" Lyra said indignantly.
"Only in the political arena, or big parties. Your family does it all the time. Seriously, does your dad even know how to smile?"
"Yes! Of course he can!" None of her friends looked convinced. Honestly if she hadn't seen her father smile herself she wouldn't believe it either. "We're just a very private family," Lyra said firmly.
Ginny shrugged before turning to Romilda. Mary shifted slightly to look at Lyra.
"Are you excited about being able to go to Hogsmeade this year?"
Romilda Vane had always had a crush on Harry Potter, but this year she seemed to obsess over him. The train ride to Hogwarts had been brutal, the final carriage ride to the castle grueling. By the time they got to the feast Lyra almost hated Harry Potter.
"Seriously Romilda, I get that you like Harry Potter but you're driving me insane," Mary whispered with a glare.
"How can you not feel the same way? Ginny does!" Romilda defended.
"Hey!" Ginny growled with a glare.
"Because he's just a scrawny little kid." Mary paused, before adding. "And Lyra doesn't like Harry Potter. What about her?"
Romilda's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Lyra never likes anyone. I don't think she's human."
Lyra glared, practically throwing herself into her seat to make exactly what she thought of that opinion clear.
"Don't be catty Romilda," Ginny said. "It doesn't suit you."
Romilda snorted. "What are you talking about? My loud mouth and cattiness make up about half of my personality."
Mary snickered, even Lyra's lips turned up. The hat began its yearly song, but quite frankly Lyra blocked it out. It got boring after the first two times. Surprisingly, Colin Creevey's brother was sorted this year. He ended up being a Gryffindor just like his brother. Lyra didn't think a muggleborn family could possibly have another magical child, but clearly she was wrong.
The new Creevey seemed just as scatter brained as Colin, because as soon as he was sorted Lyra heard him say something about falling into the lake and the giant squid pushing him back into the boat. He sounded almost as hopeless as Neville Longbottom, who currently was eyeing an apple tart with an almost constipated expression.
"Now that we're all fed and watered I must ask once more for your attention," Dumbledore announced in his trademark wispy voice. "It is my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
"What?" she heard Potter gasp from further down the table. Lyra couldn't help the stirring of guilt that spread through her at the mention of the word 'Quidditch.'
The paper that came out the next day after the Bulgaria vs. Ireland Cup made it glaringly obvious what had happened that night. When she had tried to press her brother for details he remained tight-lipped, only stating that Potter almost got arrested and it served him right. She had admitted to herself that her father had something to do with the Deatheater attack, but she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. Maybe he was only there for moral support; maybe he really didn't hurt those muggleborns. She didn't want to believe her father was a killer, or hurt people for pleasure. He didn't act like he was that type of person. He wasn't like the Carrows or Yaxley, not even the Lestranges. He treated his family kindly, and loved her mother. Not once had her father laid a hand on Lyra, deciding to take away privileges instead.
She couldn't connect this person with her father. It couldn't be him.
"This is due to an event that will be starting in October and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts —"
Suddenly the doors of the Great Hall banged open. Lyra knew who it was almost immediately, the swirling ice blue eyes giving it away instantly. She had seen him before in tabloids and such as he was a famous wizard, and an amazing auror at that. He was even pureblood, although a blood traitor.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, ignoring the interruption. He plowed on even though it was clear most of the student's attention was on their new visitor.
"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly. Many of the students laughed, but not the Slytherins and not Lyra. Ever since she heard the twins liked to hex random Slytherins she had avoided them, lest they confuse her for one too.
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar . . ."
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.
"Er — but maybe this is not the time... no..." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament," the scatter brained wizard continued."Well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."
Dumbledore then proceeded to give a big speech about the Triwizard Tournament, saying that it consisted of three students all from different schools and that many had died from it. After that, Lyra's attention had begun to wane. It would be glorious to get all that valor from winning such a competition, but not for her life. She was further validated when Dumbledore stated when no witch or wizard under age could participate. She grabbed a nearby lemon tart after that, taking delicate bites as she pretended to pay attention.
"And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!" Dumbledore finished.
"When do the other schools come?" Lyra asked.
Ginny arched a brow at her. "In October. Weren't you listening?"
Lyra smirked, joining her friends as they walked to the Gryffindor common room.
"Password?" the fat lady said as they approached. "Balderdash," said a prefect from behind them, primly folding her hands together at her waist.
As she lay in bed her mind wandered to the conversation she held with her father the day before.
"I'm sure you'll be relieved to hear my plan will succeed in about a year, by the time you become a fourth year. Then we can get you out of that deplorable house and back to where you have always belonged."
"What?" Lyra asked startled, sitting up straight.
"Do not use that infernal word like that. It's unfitting," her father reprimanded. "And do I really need to repeat myself."
"I- no."
She turned away, a troubled look on her face. It almost felt like this day would never come. Her father had been planning this for at least three years now.
"How can I be re-sorted? A house is supposed to be permanent."
Her father gave her a look filled with derision. "A Malfoy always gets what they wants."
It had frightened her, hearing that her time at Gryffindor would be coming to an end. It may mean the end of the friendships she had created. She was almost certain she could not convince her father to allow her to continue with them after getting what he needed. She didn't want to lose Ginny, so head strong and brave; nor Romilda, as giggly and playful as a puffskein.
And Mary.
There would never be a chance to be friends with her. Lyra would never be allowed to see her again, commanded to be silent, distant, and cold. Lyra didn't want it to be that way. She enjoyed Mary and their friendship.
But that was the only way it could be.
She laid in bed, staring at the red canopy above her head and wondered how much longer it would be this way.
A/N: Some of the sentences in this chapter are directly from the book, particularly when Dumbledore speaks.
Just a little update. I'm currently working on chapter 36, which is Lyra's fifth year. This may be around fifty chapters, which is my guess at this point.