Azkaban Prison
God Knows Where
God knows When

Lyra rested on her side in her tiny cell. She was cold and she was hungry. She was also, for the moment, a small black bear. No, you read that correctly.

Lyra had been held at The Ministry for nearly a month after her arrest. It seemed a waste of time to cart her off to Azkaban immediately when she was a testifying witness in the trials for Lucius, Julian, Ophira and Colin. She didn't give a damn about Colin or Ophira, but was pleased to hear that Lucius and Julian were both convicted of their most serious crimes. Lucius would be spending the rest of his life in prison and Julian wouldn't see the light of day again for quite some time.

After the dust settled, Lyra herself stood trial. Darwin, Dinesh and Gold declined to press charges against her personally, but one of the head solicitors for MLE elected to pursue charges on their behalf, in addition to the charges of abduction and use of an illegal portkey. In a decision that shocked almost everybody outside of the establishment, Lyra was convicted on the assault and abduction charges and sentenced to prison time, due to the 'unfortunate involvement of a young child,' per the court.

Draco, Harry and all of her friends fought vigorously to spare her from ever seeing the inside of the fortress, but the moneyed elite within the ministry, most of whom hated Lucius Malfoy, nevertheless made it a point to see her punished. She had struck their kind in a place where they thought they were safe and had manipulated two powerful men into incriminating themselves, which was something that could not recur. She was also an easy target, in that she was a foreigner. Her original sentence had been two years but the shrewd interventions employed on her behalf had whittled it down to five months.

Five months. She wasn't sure how much time had already passed. She didn't remember time very well anymore. Nap time. She remembered nap time. She remembered to hide in the corner and think of dead puppies when the dementors neared her. She remembered snack time. Hard bread and dirty water that made her stomach cramp when she was in human form.

To clarify, Lyra was not an animagus, she was just lucky and had a smart boyfriend. The last time she saw Draco before they took her away, he put a leather cord bracelet in her hand and told her to put it on when she was feeling low. Well, she'd started feeling low about as soon as they dragged her through the damn doors.

The first time she put on the trinket and unexpectedly turned into a bear, she was quite confused. She remembered thinking, Okay, baby. Thanks for the...bear. She realized shortly thereafter that the dementors tended to leave her alone when she was a bear. Her emotions were simple. There were no highs and lows, just simple acceptance of her bear fate.

She had no words to adequately describe the horrors of Azkaban Prison. She spent her first days there sobbing on the floor of her cell, the dementors showing her an endless retinue of images of Draco's lifeless eyes, her niece Porrima impaled on a spear, her mother Marla's sweet face being pecked at by crows, Harry's bloated body washed up on the shores of the Thames. She couldn't believe this kind of torture was permitted in an otherwise civil society. She'd heard it was terrible, but she truly had no idea. People, even bad people, should never be treated this way. Not even Lucius Malfoy should be treated this way. It was a pox on the face of the entire British wizarding world. A forgotten cesspool of all of their hidden sins.

She knew, provided she didn't die, that her time here would eventually come to an end and she would be returned to New York. She didn't know what kind of person she would be when that happened. She was being broken down each day. Her body starved, her spirit crushed. She was afraid that she wouldn't know how to function any more when she left and that made her feel so profoundly sad and alone.

Lyra had been in her bear form for at least the last two weeks. She spent most of her time asleep, to circumvent the gnawing hunger in her belly. The rest of her time she spent lying on her side thinking about food or pacing her cell waiting for food which came every few days, by her estimation.

Lyra heard a noise from outside her cell and rotated her round ears in that direction. She knew the formula, if it sounded swishy it was a dementor and she would go hide in the corner. If it sounded clunky it was a person who was maybe going to give her some food and she would go wait by the door. She slowly lumbered to her feet in anticipation. She heard the swishing whisper of a dementor's cloak and fled for the far corner of her cell as quickly as her battered body would allow.

She was confused when she then heard the clunk-clunk of human feet followed by shouting. She cocked her fuzzy ears forward. Ok, now. You can't have a swishy sound and a clunk-clunk sound. I don't have a plan for that shit. Is it food or torture? Is it both? Can we do food first?

She saw flashes of light underneath her door and huddled back further into the corner.

The strange noises and sounds continued for several hours and Lyra was visited by neither dementor nor food guy and she was actually starting to get pissed. Pissed in a bear sense. Give me food, blow me up or I am going back to sleep, you disorganized bastards.

Lyra's cell door blasted open. Dark fur stood up all over her body and she readied herself to fight.

A young, dark-skinned wizard came in, holding his wand lit up in front of him. He saw her, the bear, and furrowed his brow.

Lyra growled. He didn't look like the food guy.

The wizard backed up a step and called out behind him. "Oy, Harry! He said she'd probably be a bear, yeah?"

Lyra heard a muffled shout in response and the wizard turned back to her and smiled. "Alright there, Black? It's me. It's Blaise. You look...nice?"

Lyra growled again.

Zabini smiled wider.

Harry appeared next to him in the doorway and Lyra made a happy bear noise but then winced in fear, afraid the dementors would come. Harry frowned.

"They're gone. It's okay," he informed her.

She cocked her head to the side and then looked past the two men out the door.

"It's true," Zabini confirmed.

Lyra sauntered over to Harry and sat on his feet, resting her furry head on his knees.

"She's so cute," Blaise remarked.

Lyra grumbled and swiped at him with a lazy paw. He laughed and made his way back into the hallway to rejoin the others.

"A lot's happened in the last few months," Harry explained to her. "You...you've been pardoned. I get to take you out of here," he said with a smile in his voice.

Lyra froze. She was afraid.

Harry felt her start to tremble and he sunk a hand into the fur on her back. She jumped.

"Hey, it's alright. Just take it slow. I think it'd be best to floo you straight to hospital. The press can't get in there and we can control who comes and goes," he soothed.

Lyra looked up at him.

"He's fine. Been in my office for the last two days pacing and yelling at me to pick up the pace. All but followed me into the loo to tell me to piss faster," he answered, understanding that she wanted to know what Draco was doing. "I'll send Rossman on to give him a heads up."

Lyra huffed.

"I'll be right back. Take that bracelet off and put some clothes on, yeah? I can't floo a bear into St. Mungos," Harry said fondly to her before stepping out and pulling the door shut.

Lyra looked around her cell nervously. She went back into her corner for a while and just stared down at the cord around her right paw. You can do this, Black. Draco and Scorpius. Mom and Dad. You'll be with them soon. You can't be with them as a bear. Well...maybe you could. Mom would love you the same as a bear, she argued. She had to admit that being a bear made her feel safe and she was afraid to give up the simplicity it offered.

Draco couldn't kiss a bear, though. I mean...he could, but people would talk, she explained to herself. She signed and bent down to pull the bracelet off with her teeth. She felt the air around her shift and let the magic have her. She leaned her naked back against the cold rock of her corner and closed her eyes for a few moments. She got up slowly, her bones protesting the movement, and moved over to where her black and white striped uniform lay neglected on the ground.

She picked it up and peeked down at her emaciated frame. She looked worse than she had after Severus died. Her ribs and hips stuck out grotesquely and she was covered in grime. She smacked her parched lips and recoiled from the feeling of fuzz covering her teeth. Her hair was knotted and snarled and she smelled like a hippogriff stable. She was ashamed. She covered herself quickly with the ugly smock they'd given her and waited for Harry to come back.


March 2009
Wizarding London, England
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Thursday

Draco paced anxiously outside the admitting ward at the hospital.

"Draco, sit down before you have a stroke," Marla Black admonished him.

He huffed and lowered himself into the flimsy chair next to her.

"Here, eat this," she said, forcing a candy into his hand.

Draco smirked. He liked Lyra's mother. She was the only other person who was appropriately mad about how long all of this was taking. Shacklebolt had been elected minister nearly three months ago. Lyra should have been released at that very moment.

Potter had his hands full talking the two of them off a ledge and imploring them to be patient while the investigators weeded out corruption within the courts and the MLE office. There was also the small matter of securing the proper legislation to vanquish the dementors from Azkaban, and replace them with Aurors as guards.

Lyra's conviction and incarceration actually had a lot to do with swaying public and political opinion towards that end. All of the information about what she and Draco had gone through came out during the trials. The press had run wild with it and turned them into a pair of harrowing romantic heroes, whose love was being crushed by a cruel bureaucracy. Draco believed that their story played a large part in helping Shacklebolt win the election as well.

As great as all that was, Draco and Marla didn't give a damn. They wanted her back. Now. Every second that elapsed with her suffering in that place was disgusting and offensive to them both. Lyra's mother was kind, intelligent and had a empathetic way of speaking that reached right into people and made them care. She had petitioned tirelessly for her daughter's release and turned a lot of heads. Mama Bear, as Lyra had called her so many times, was truly a fitting moniker and Draco adored her for it.

He popped the candy into his mouth, having learned by this point that resistance was futile, and settled into the chair.

"What the devil is taking so long?" He questioned miserably.

"Oh, you know. Auror Potter is probably discussing the most effective and noble way to put your foot forward into the floo," Marla joked.

Draco snorted. He absolutely loved that Lyra's mother thought Potter was a wanker too. She was great before, but that was just the icing on the cake.

"Yeah, that sounds about right," he agreed.

"Mom?" A thin, croaky voice came from behind them.

They turned simultaneously and saw her.

They lept to their feet and tore over to the fireplace where she was clinging weakly on to Gold's arm. She was nearly unrecognizable. Her skin was sallow and dirty, her hair a tangled mess and Draco couldn't stop staring at the unnatural way that her sternum protruded from her chest. She was wearing an ill-fitting overcoat that someone had given her over the black and white stripes of a prisoner's uniform.

Lyra looked at her mom and her boyfriend who were leaning into each other for support as they took her in. She felt her stomach coil nervously and started twisting her bracelet around her fingers, looking down.

"Thanks for the bear, baby," she whispered softly, embarrassed by the sound of her disused voice.

She had scarcely finished her sentence when she found herself wrapped tightly in their arms. She inhaled the comforting combination of Draco's sandalwood and her mother's vanilla scents and let them squeeze her too tight as she huddled into them for warmth.


March 2009
Wizarding London, England
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Saturday Morning

Draco stood in front of the window of her room, with Lyra burrowed into his chest in a tight hug. He could feel her individual ribs through the thin fabric of the hospital gown covering her back.

It was about three in the morning. She had woken up terrified and couldn't fall back asleep.

Her rehabilitation was difficult to watch. She was afraid to drink water and the mediwizards had resorted to hydrating her magically, which led them to discover that she had infections in both of her kidneys. Her stomach was so shrunken that she could only tolerate a few bites of food at a time. She had nightmares, would retreat into the corner of the room when she was nervous and Draco had caught her staring sadly at her transfiguration bracelet more than once.

One of the hardest parts for him was when she sat expressionless as they cut about a foot from her hair because it was so snarled that it was beyond the help of a good brushing or even a sleeking charm. His mother had tried for hours and left the room nearly in tears when she was unable to detangle it. Her hair was still long, about down to her breasts, but he knew she loved it and he hated to see it taken from her that way.

She wasn't speaking very much to anybody but would get restless when he had to leave the room and she would always look for him when she woke from a dream. She was perpetually cold, but hated being under blankets, so he kept her in his arms as much as possible to keep her warm. He didn't mind. He would do it forever if it was what she needed, but he still hoped like hell that she would heal. That she would come back to him.

Two weeks, his mother had told him. That's how long it had taken for Lucius to start speaking regularly after he'd spent three months in Azkaban over the summer between Draco's fifth and sixth years at school. Lyra had been there for about the same amount of time and he was worried that it would be worse for her because she was a happy person, with more to lose to the dementors. However long it took, it didn't matter. He would be there.

Draco heard the door open behind him and Lyra twitched anxiously in his arms. He smoothed his hands reassuringly down her back as he saw Lyra's father approaching them in the reflection of the window.

"Hey, kiddo. It's Dad. Do you want to be a clingy little wildebeest on me for a little while, so Draco can get come coffee?" Her father asked softly.

Lyra pulled back and blinked up at him a few times. She went unquestioningly into his arms and settled into her spot on his shoulder. Alistair gathered her into him and started doing a goofy little slow dance with her while humming a tune Draco didn't recognize.

Draco nodded at him politely and made for the door, but Lyra reached out and grabbed his arm.

She pulled her face off her father's chest and looked between them. "Will you take me home?" She asked them both, in a froggy whisper.

Draco and Alistair shared a wordless conversation that Lyra missed.

"I'll take care of it," Draco replied before giving Lyra a kiss on the forehead and leaving to grab a coffee and charter a plane.


Author's Note - I have a feeling that sending Lyra to prison is going to be an unpopular decision and I agonized about it, I assure you. My thought process was essentially this: What would happen in the aftermath if a cop went rogue, fought her way out of a police station and took some witnesses with her? Now, imagine also that that cop was an agent of a foreign government. There would be consequences. I know that the department was compromised, but the legal thing for Lyra to do would have been to be honest with Harry and Shacklebolt about what she planned to do and work from the inside. She didn't have to blast her way out like she did. She chose to, because she didn't know who to trust and she wanted to take matters into her own hands and that was partially because she knew the truth and partially because she was all crazy in love. In a legal sense, she went to prison for vigilantism, not because she was wrong. It ended up being worse for her for a few reasons: 1. She was a foreigner 2. She pissed off rich people and 3. She made the ministry look incompetent, specifically because she was right about the auror department and MLE being dirty. Real talk...people are petty and they don't like feeling stupid. When it happens they lash out, even when you're right. That's where my head was at. I welcome and encourage you to leave your thoughts. I really struggled with this bit, but I'm happy with what comes next and I hope you will be too. Happy reading! -MM

PS - The bit with Shacklebolt becoming Minister for Magic and removing the dementors from Azkaban for their human rights violations is canon. The stuff JKR has on Pottermore makes mention of the fact that, other than Sirius Black, the only people to escape the prison while it was under dementor control were Voldemort supporters. She writes that after the dementors were replaced with Auror guards, there hasn't been a single escape. It's an interesting read, if you're into that sort of thing.