You know…I've decided to tell what Lyra is early, at least one half of what she is…. However it will be three chapters from this one.
Brielle Montegomery- How she'll be with both, I don't have a clue! But I'm going to have a hell of a fun time finding out, haha! Siren is very close! More of a cousin really, where Sirens can use their song and voice Lyra can do a bit more! But that's coming up in three chapters! Gorgons, but no, good guess! I love that I may just add a gorgon in here later!
Introducing:Daniel MacKade! Paternal Grandfather of Lyra Mackade. Known as a pure-blood wizard he is in charge of many businesses and holds some powerful political sway, making his family right on par with the Malfoy's. Despite being older than dirt (Lyra's affectionate words) he still moves with the energy of a young man despite the full white beard and mischievous periwinkle eyes. He likes to keep people on their toes and can often be found switching up his accent just to throw someone off-balance.
To be a Gryffindor
Her first impression of the sneering elder wizard was that his bleach blonde hair looked really, really soft and fluffy.
But that was probably due to the recent emotional upheaval she'd had and brushed it aside. Or tried to anyways, his hair really did look soft (but she liked her tongue exactly where it was so she didn't dare voice the thought aloud).
Her next thought was that he didn't exactly look evil, more power-hungry and the will behind his eyes to gain such a power was what made him dangerous. The thirst that seemed unquenchable to him rendered his powers with the dark and despite not being an evil genius; Lyra would need to keep her wits about her.
But even Lyra could see around the light lines that crinkled near his stone eyes he suffered from exhausted. With life or serving his dark lord Lyra did not know nor did she care to find out. "Ms. Mackade and…honor." He greeted with a slight incline of his head, the pause meant to border along just the point before being considered rude.
And that set her on edge. But it was a game, and games were played in these illustrious houses; moving people back and forth as if they were pawns. In the end it was all about connection and power, and the grace you used it with. Lucius Malfoy was measuring each response she gave him, letting him know if the MacKade line would fall to a weak simpering woman who would be easily manipulated in the future. There was no room for being shy and hesitant around a man who wore power like a cape about him. That would be a mistake that could cost her life.
Pushing her shy meek persona back, with some difficultly he was intimidating, she called forth the best façade she could what her governess had prepared her for and what her grandfather expected of her. She didn't have to like it, no, but being her she needed to do this. And it was that need that kept her gaze locked with his (it probably helped he'd almost insulted her status and she desperately needed to get rid of some of the emotional angst she was carrying for her little discovery). Almost like an alter ego had taken her over as some powerful heiress; a lady born and bred as she gave him a delicately cool smile slipping her smaller hand into his expensively gloved hand maintain eye contact even as his lips ghosted over her knuckles.
Slimy, power-hungry old basilisk.
She was proud she didn't pull away or flinch, even if she felt like dousing her hand in disinfection spells. That would have to wait until much later while she scrubbed her hand raw to get the feel of warmth leather off her skin. It just felt so wrong and dirty though that probably had to do more with the man than anything.
"I must say..." He began as he straightened looking her over with cold calculated eyes as the sneer stayed in place (really how did he do that? It was like his lips were moving but the disdainful expression remained). Lyra remained quiet and watchful, that small polite smile staying fixed on her lips. "The pictures Daniel has do not do you justice."
Ugh, most over line used ever. Lyra thought sourly nearly rolling her eyes. Who was it that thought that would be a fantastic compliment? Really? Or maybe it lessened by the fact a creepy snake was saying it to her. But he seemed to makee it his goal to show off the dignified man the name of his house claimed. Not that Lyra would believe him, but games, she had to play this one.
So instead she replied smoothly, adding a sweet smile as the power he didn't expect chimed in her tone. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I hope he didn't get so caught up in singing my praises that you could not close your business. "She could see his eyes flicker in surprise as the sneer lessened once he released her hand. Ha! She surprised the slimy git! Yeah! And what! Apparently he knew she wasn't so easily manipulated by empty compliments but the way he straightened out his other hand gripping the serpent cane the leather squeaking slightly in response as it curled around the barring head.
"On the contrary…" Was it just her or did his tone take on a sly under current. It slithered over her and she bit back the disgusted shudder not wanting to give him the satisfaction. "I'm always intrigued about Draco's classmates…despite the mixing of houses. My interests will always lie within Hogwarts and its students…" That house comment was another dig at her, no doubt, but Lyra didn't feel like biting on the line he was hoping to catch her in. Even still she noted how he spoke that sentence. Ever the politician, Lyra mused and cocked her head to the side her large void eyes staring back into black coals.
"A good place to keep them with all the promising talents…" Her mind flashed back to the DA practices, everyone was gathering a heavy arsenal of spells, some even finding places where they didn't know they possessed a talent for. His eyes glowed and Lyra could almost hear the words 'well played girl' echoing in his mind.
"And I hear your one of those powerful talents." The word powerful was like a large dragon crashing through the MacKade mansion. A large warning sign that was unmistakable in the danger and destruction provided. He sounded as if he knew her secret. Her chin tilted up defiantly, while not pure blood wizards, the MacKade line had been very careful to hide they were half-breeds so most of the wizarding world did believe they were actually pure-blooded. Not that it mattered to Lyra, but to the man before her bloodlines were just as powerful as the magic they wielded. "I'm sure there are others who have more talent." Was her only answer, but it seemed to satisfy him.
And then he flew right in from left Quidditch Pitch and hit her with a double whammy. "How do you and Draco get along he's in your year, isn't he?" Oh that was not good. The smirk fighting to stay off his face and the way his shoulders slid back to straighten his pose suggested triumph. Lyra seriously hoped he was not planning anything like that, just because the stars they were named after bordered each other on occasion did not mean they were a match made in heaven. Because he was seriously lacking some of the things she was was utterly drawn too.
Red hair (he had the farthest thing from it), devious smirks (Draco's always lingered on the cruel smile), sweet boyish smiles (she didn't think the Slytherin Prince had ever given anyone a real smile, though when his father was Lucius Malfoy she didn't blame him), Blue eyes that flickered and danced in mischief only to turn a dark stormy navy color with insult or anger.
Unfortunately he did have that Quidditch toned body, and Lyra thought she could feel a bit of herself dying on the inside with that admission.
"Draco's times and attentions have been drawn and held by others…just as mine have." Lyra could tell he read that message loud and clear when the smirk he'd been fighting died a marvelous death at her refusal to consider his silent offer. Oh yeah, she was awesome. Her smile grew only a bit bigger; maybe today wasn't a total loss after all. She'd just stuck it to Lucius Malfoy, her grandfather and the twins along with Lee would probably be cheering her on as they munched on candy waving about their wands in delight.
"Well-" Cut off by the booming voice of her grandfather, and Lyra had to stop herself from beaming and running over to the old man to wrap him into a large huge of greeting. But one did not do public displays of affection familial or otherwise in front of the Malfoy patriarch. It wasn't done, there was this aura around him that just seemed to effectively murder all the happiness around him.
Hm…maybe she wasn't the only half-breed in the room. Dark cape (check), killed happiness around him (check)…Lucius Malfoy may just be part Dementor. She didn't know how to feel for his wife….
"Lucius! Ah, I see you've met my Lyra." His frame filled the doorway completely stepping into the light.
Daniel MacKade was as large in political power as he was in stature. Despite being older than the other wizard, he toward over him with a jovial grin surrounded by a long beard of pure white which match that of the long strands covering his head. Large eyebrows seeing to brighten the periwinkle eyes the shifting colors of blue and purple sparking as his hand gripped the cane that Lyra knew for a fact was more for show than real need.
"Yes, she's a delight." Lucius said mildly giving her another once over as she stepped back giving both a respectful incline of her head. Pleased with what he believed a proper pure blood girl should act, Lucius allowed his lips to curve into a ghost smile. Daniel let out a booming laugh and turned escorting Lucius to the door outside, seeing as no one but a MacKade could get through the wards guests were escorted from the front gates to the house.
As the door shut Lyra relaxed the persona falling back on the steps with a heavy sigh rubbing her hands over her face. Her lips trembled but she banished the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her should she allow them to flow freely.
You might be wondering why Lyra could pull off the cool, calm and collected princess act when she was a hesitant mess around her classmates. It was simple really, it was kind of like playing dress up or pretend it was only a game, picked up when it there was nothing else to do. Lyra didn't believe that that heiress persona she drafted when she needed it was truly a part of her personality. That girl was strong, courageous, and knew all the right things to say. Lyra…Lyra didn't, or couldn't believe she was. She could act it out fine, but it would be exhausting to act that out all the time if it was only a game. If someone wanted to form a connection with her, it would have to be the shy hesitant mess she was and nothing less.
Shaking herself she shrugged it off looking up in surprise as her grandfather filled the entrance again holding out his arms in invitation. "The slimy snake, acts like a king of my castle, he does." He grumbled in a thick Scottish brogue. Lyra laughed hoping up and running into his arms as if she were a child again, grinning as his large arms scooped her up in a bear hug twirling her around. He set her down with a lavish kiss on her cheek.
"Aye let me look at you." He said his eyes sparkling in pride as he grabbed her small hand making her twirl. "Prettier and prettier every time I'm graced with your presence." Lyra beamed her cheeks hurting from the strain. "You saw me a couple of months ago." She pointed out but flushed in pleasure all the same. Her grandfather had always made her feel welcomed and loved. The large bear-like wizard loved his family and it showed in his tone and the affection he never hesitated to give his only surviving grandchild. "Aye, but there's a glow about you now."
"Playing with different accents again, grandfather?" She teased hoping to distract him. If she did have a glow about her as the old man had pointed out she wasn't willing to give away any of her secrets. He chuckled pressing his lips to her cheek again, the soft hair of his beard tickling her skin. His large hand curling around her shoulder "Aye lass, you know me. Need to keep the young ones on their toes. As well, the women are certainly impressed by a good accent."
Not willing to think about what her grandfather was doing with the women that he needed an accent she narrowed her eyes playfully. "I think they are already on their toes from an Ancient who looks like a big bear, even if he's older than dirt." She grinned as he let out another booming laugh and stood up. "An ancient! Spare me young one, my heart is as frail as the day you left me to go to that blasted school. Tell me, how is the old coot in charge? Still lusting after ol' Minnie?" He asked with a merry twinkle. Lyra shuddered in horror her scandalized face causing another round of laughter from the old man. "Alright, alright." He said dropping the accent though his voice was just as rich in a deep tenor as it had been with the burr of Scottish he'd added. "Go change and relax, then come down to dinner, Mira that old battle-axe has ordered that kitchen about since noon when I told her you were coming home."
The smile slipped and Lyra suddenly remember exactly why she'd come home. Frowning she looked up at the towering figure as she pointed out. "We need to talk still, old man. Don't forget." She said sternly as she pressed a hand to his arm stopping him as he tried to push her up the stairs toward her room.
"Forget, me? Never, Lyra-love. Never." He said playing the part of an innocent well. "I'm on to you old man." She said sticking out her tongue as he half-heartedly made a grab for it. "Respect your elders, girlie." He teased, musing her hair with a large wrinkled paw before giving a gentle push. "Up the stairs with you that blasted elfling of yours has everything put away already." Lyra snorted giving him a cheeky smile, relaxed in her own environment, back to the playful banter with her grandfather. "Jealousy will get you know where..." He made to swat her but she danced out-of-the-way, scurrying up a few steps with playful laughter all the while telling herself not to forget to make the old man talk.
She'd changed into a soft dress of dodger blue that flowed around her like a small waterfall (and if it just so happen to match color against a certain twin pair of eyes then really, it only added to the dress' appeal in her opinion) the sun-dress was proper enough for dinner but enough for her comfort as well. But there was something else she had to get done before she joined her energetic grandfather down for dinner. And as she carefully pushed open the wooden door to her parent's room, a deep calming breath inhaled as she stepped fully inside the darkened room the fire just bright enough to cast shadows on every object in the room.
But her attention was on the lone figure sitting absolutely still on the chair in the corner, just out of the glow of the dim embers of fire light, in full view of the window where the moon shone down. Padding over to the prone form, Lyra dropped to her knees, slowly reaching out a hand to curve around the cold appendage sitting on the armrest. "Hello Father…" She whispered with a small smile looking up at the sharp features of her father's face and the dull purple blue eyes unseeing as they stared out through the glass.
He didn't acknowledge her, but Lyra hadn't expected him too really. He hadn't acknowledged her since her mother untimely death years before. And perhaps it would have seemed a little much for any other person, who may have believed only a small period of deep mourning would be required before a person could function. But her mother and father had been true-bonded, two souls entwined together and when one died, the other was doomed to waste away….no matter how much she wished his eyes would just once flicker down to meets hers. But Rafe MacKade responded to no one, not even his father or Mira, the one who took charge of the houses inner workings doubling as her father's nurse. He was simply a stasis point in time as life slowly drained from him day by day. It burned her through and through that they kept him locked away like the dark family secret.
"I've come home early for break." She explained keeping her voice soft as to not disturb the night or the dead silence of the room. Watching for his hand to twitch or something, and seeing nothing, Lyra continued slowly. "You probably already know…but Wicky has been placing charms on me while I sleep. And I want to know why." It happened then, oddly enough, word charms did his eyes lazily turn to hers. The color stayed dark and lifeless, glazed over lack of interest in the world and Lyra didn't believe he was truly seeing her. In fact it felt as though he was staring past her, but he'd never turned in her direction before. She wrapped her free arm around her stomach in silent comfort. Oh that feeling was back. The one where utter dread was sliding in and filling her up like a bottomless darkened well.
Lyra could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Frozen under his blank eyes Lyra knew something wasn't right. If her usual catatonic father had made a move toward her (even if it was only to flick his eyes down to her) something had to be really wrong. "You do know, don't you?" Lyra questioned but the contact was gone as he moved his eyes stubbornly back out to the window. Laying her cheek on the icy hand she kept her eyes staring up at him thoughtfully. "Am I in more danger than I realize?"
He only shut his eyes.
Dinner was a pleasant affair; relaxed and playful. Lyra had grinned, unable to contain her laughter watching the battle between her grandfather and Mira (the women who her grandfather cheekily named 'the dragon' since she was a steely eyed spinster with a pile of silver curls always immaculately placed on top of her head with deep gray colored eyes and damnit if everyone in this house but her had an amazing eye color!) go back and forth with their banter, her grandfather an awful flirt while Mira enjoyed smacking him back down to reality with cool comments behind the silver of her fork. And her grandfather greatly enjoyed verbally side stepping her questions on when they would actually talk.
But eventually in the her grandfather's study, which she mentally called the throne room for the large high-backed chair he kept firmly in front of the fire where no one but him dared to sit. Which was a lie on her part considering Lyra gathered the courage to sit there when she knew he was in the other room! Ha!
Perched on the comfortable couch she poured the tea from the china pot Mira set down before she turned in for the night. Glancing up she rolled her eyes at the expectant look on her grandfather's face pouring in a drop or four of whiskey to mix with the tea. Handing it over, she put her hands on her hips, which didn't look that intimidating seeing as she was still sitting down. "Alright, old man, start talking." She ordered with a small smile, it was good to be home and away from the claustrophobic walls of Hogwarts at times.
"Old man!? That anyways to speak to dear ol' grampie?" She cringes much to his delight as he sips from the warm cup in his hands, more whiskey than tea as he chuckles. Lyra narrowed her eyes; the crazy old timer knew she hated those kinds of words! "It is when the old man's been keeping secrets." She shot back raising a brow in return taking a small sip of her own tea.
Setting her cup down Lyra bowed her head, the weight of why she was here being too much for her, looking up at him mournfully. "You told me I would be safe to go to Hogwarts. You promised me." She said in an accusing tone.
Daniel nodded slowly, regarding her for a moment as he said. "Yes…I did. And I stand by that. It is safe for you to attend, as long as Wicky is there to reset the charms."
"But why do I need them!?" She jumping to her feet. He was doing everything in his power to squirrel around the obvious. Charms, fine, whatever it was nice and all Wicky was there to reset them. But why were they there!? Was the world out to drive her into madness!? Because that's what it was looking like.
But he continued as if she hadn't interrupted. "Well now…you're the first female born to the MacKade line in a very long time, a couple hundred years actually."
Sighing she fell back on the couch nodding her head as she picked her skirt. "I know.." Of course she knew. Daniel MacKade had insisted on her learning the history of their family, which included the long, long family tree. The last female heir had been Lucinda, and before her (with a couple hundred years between) was Twilia (tw-eye-lee-ah).
"You know…" Daniel teased back, drawing out the syllables as she had done. "Aye, ye might." He continued picking up the Irish accent this time. Because of course, what would a serious discussion be without a couple of heavy accents thrown in, right? It wasn't as if she needed to know this information. "But there's a bit'o history missing in the book, galya." Lyra stared at him blankly.
Family history she had read up on and memorized (really why did she need to know who married who?) was missing something. If it was missing it meant it was so for a reason….which would mean it would probably answer her question and give her a really, really big headache at the same damn time. She just hoped she didn't faint.
"We're not actually the half-breeds you believe we ta' be, Lyra-love." He told her reaching for the tumbler of whisky he'd used magic to pour. Lyra froze staring at him blankly, really what else could she do? Well lets see..
Her heart rate was picking up in her panic, and slowly her eyes were widening…
"That makes no sense. Either…either we are half-breeds or we're not." Lyra said trying to keep up her calm despite her voice rising toward the end in shock, but she would not fall to hysterics.
At least not yet…
"Hybrid's more like actually. The charms are in place to keep the powers from your other half in check."
Other half? Maybe this time she should be perfectly justified in any hysterics she might just fall into. "Other half?" She choked. How did one get another half, what made her a hybrid? Was she not human anymore? Her mind swirled and Lyra knew she needed a drink, badly. Something to sting enough to show she wasn't in some weird twisted reality. It was either that, or become reacquainted with dinner and as lovely as the home-cooked meal had been she had no wish to see it again. Lunging for the tumbler of firewhiskey her grandfather had poured himself she chugged it without a second thought only to drop the glass and choke rubbing her eyes, with one hand and holding her throat with the other reaching blindly for the pitcher of water nearby when she released her neck. Daniel let out a booming laugh, the windows rattling under his jolly laugh, reaching for a cigar.
"Bloody awful! How does anyone drink that?" She rasped with a shudder, but he only bit the end of the cigar with a wink, his laughter dying down to a soft chuckle of mirth. "How'd ya like tha' for your first drink!? Bet tha' will ward ye away for a while." Lyra nodded wiping a stray tear from her eyes, which still stung.
"Other half." She repeated, wincing. That was so weird to say….to think about, to comprehend! One side of her was enough; she didn't need or want another. Just like that drink. Oh she was never going near that ever again. Making a disgusted face she drank more water hoping to clear the bitter fire from her mouth.
"Aye' it's the strongest in you; it's more a female trait. The more ferocious of us, tis only fitting." He teased his eyes shifting from violet to baby blue as the fire cackled bathing his face in light. Lyra scowled, not in the mood to joke. "That makes no sense. Even if Father does have the same bloodline, grandmother and mother were married in. I shouldn't even carry a fourth of the power of this other half if its hereditary."
He stroked his beard inclining his head conceding to her valid point. And Lyra nodded in triumph. "Yes…but you know when the dormant half, you refuse to acknowledge (oh you bet that nasty glass of firewhiskey she was going to ignore it!), find their mate it is then they can create hybrids once they lose themselves in a mating frenzy." Daniel pointed out raising a brow. "Did your mother not explain how she became your fathers mate?"
Lyra flinched at the thought bowing her head, nodding. It had been a dark thing he father did once he'd scented his intended and Lyra knew very well she had not been conceived in love. She'd been born of darkness, the triumph of a hunt gone well. "Not your fault, little one. We can'ot keep our heads straight during tha' time. Which is why the charms are in place, to keep you in your right mind and keep the other half dormant. Even still, yer not old enough to feel the pull of the heat." He said soothingly and Lyra managed to meet his eyes this time, quivering in a sickly mixture of fear and anticipation. "What am I then?" She questioned softly licking her dry lips as her arms curled protectively around her waist.
His lips twitched in a small secretive smile. "Tis not time yet my Lyra-Love. Soon though, soon."
Lyra scowled, fear and anticipation gone. Was this how Fred and George felt? Damn it was frustrating. Maybe she should reconsider…At the thought of the twins Lyra paled, growing dizzy. "This is too much…I'm…I need to sleep." She rubbed her forehead. Somehow Lyra didn't even believe her usually sweet escape would help her this time. "Aye, sleep…think about it some." Her grandfather waved her away.
It wasn't until she stumbled to the door did he speak again. "Then maybe tomorrow you can explain to me why exactly, my little love, you mustn't tell lies."
Lyra froze her hand placed on the door knob staring at the scars he'd referred too before she turned around. Ah, she knew she forgot something. But obviously her grandfather did not approve Umbridge's new punishment. Lyra would have been a fool not to notice how feral he looked right then, dangerous and dark ready to take revenge for the maiming of her flesh. A sharp flare of silver entered his eyes and she nodded with a meek smile, quickly hurrying up the stairs to bed.
