I do not own Harry Potter. All rights go to J. K. Rowling as well as Warner brothers (For the movie rights).
Daughter of Darkness
Chapter Forty-Six
Lyra woke up, a crick in her neck from sleeping on the couch, with her letter still cluched to her chest. She snuck back into the dorm, as it was still early, to see only Parvati awake. There was barely a look between the two, something that wasn't all that different as Lyra wasn't really friends with Lavender or Parvati, but it was still annoying.
She slipped out of the tower and went to the owlery, giving her letter to Artemis to take to her godmother.
"Where were you?" Hermione asked as Lyra returned to the school for breakfast.
"The owlery. I had a letter for Narcissa," Lyra explained.
"Is everything okay? I heard you getting up last night?" Hermione questioned. Lyra nodded.
"I'm fine, just a lot on my mind," she deflected before turning to her breakfast. Thankfully Hermione didn't push it any further after that, going back to reading at the table.
"Are you ready for today's Defense class?" Hermione asked after she'd finished doing whatever homework it was that she was doing. Lyra nodded.
"Yes. As ready as anyone can be, I suppose," Lyra muttered, not really wanting to think about it. Moody had wanted them to try throwing off the imperius curse. Teaching, he'd called it. Lyra couldn't help the shudder that rolled through her body at the thought of anyone taking control of her mind.
"Talking about today's lesson?" Ron asked, coming up behind them. Lyra nodded. "It's all anyone's been talking about," he added.
"I can't imagine why," Lyra commented wryly. It wasn't often that an unforgivable was ever used in front of someone, much less students.
"What do you think it's going to be like?" Harry asked as he sat down. Lyra shrugged.
"The book I read said it could feel like a few things depending on the person. It could feel like a relaxing massage for our brain, or that feeling of rest, or just happiness. The curse, all it does, it invade your mind by taking something you didn't really know you were missing and giving it to you along with a command from the caster," Lyra explained.
"So, we won't know until it happens?" Ron guessed.
"Exactly," Lyra replied.
The four ate breakfast quietly, each mulling over how they would throw off the curse whenever it was their turns.
Xoxoxoxoxoxo
Harry barely blinked the second time Moody had cast the curse, trying to get everyone to pay attention. Of course, the first time he'd fallen flat on his face, but the second time, he'd clearly resisted the feeling the curse instilled in him, thereby overcoming the commands Moody had given him.
"Black!" Moody finally barked. She hoped he wouldn't make her do anything too painful or embarrassing. She'd seen enough of her fellow students make fools of themselves, and she had no desire to do the same.
"Imperio!" Moody incanted. Immediately, a wave of calm and peace flooded her mind, along with a voice. "Change into your mother," the voice in her head commanded.
No. She didn't want to do that. She didn't, she couldn't do that to Neville, or anyone in the room who'd lost someone to the death eaters. She didn't want to be her mother. She never wanted to be her mother.
Her skin burned as she resisted the change in her body. Part of her body was fighting the change while the other half was trying to finish it.
"Ah!" Lyra cried as she fell to her knees.
It hurt, having her body force itself to change. She didn't want to be her mother!
"Change. Now!" the voice commanded.
"No!" Lyra shouted, her nose began to bleed as well as her ears and eyes.
"Stop it!" someone shouted beside her. "You're hurting her! Stop it!"
"I won't!" Lyra screamed. She wouldn't be her mother, she needed people to know that. She would never be her mother.
Suddenly the pressure in her head was gone, as was the feeling of false peace as her body relaxed, sagging against Daphne and Hermione who were holding her up.
"Lyra?" Hermione asked in concern.
"Greengrass, take Miss Black to the hospital wing," Moody grunted.
"I don't-I won't be her," Lyra muttered, her eyes glazed over in pain from trying to fight her own body. "I don't want to."
"It's okay, it's over, Lyra," Daphne said as pulled Lyra to her side, guiding her out of the classroom towards the hospital.
"What happened?" Madame Pomfrey asked as the Daphne pushed open the doors.
"She was fighting the Imperius curse. Professor Moody, I guess, tried to make her change," Daphne guessed.
"I'm not her. I'll never be her," Lyra muttered, shaking her head sluggishly. Madame Pomfrey merely tutted.
"Foolish man," she growled, heading calmly over to the potions cabinet. "Trying to force a metamorph into changing against their will," she muttered. She walked back over to her patient where Daphne was anxiously waiting by her side. "A calming draft. It should help bring her out whatever's going on inside her head," the matron explained. Only, it didn't really do that.
The moment the calming draft took effect, washing over Lyra's mind with nothing but peace and calm, she shifted her body completely, her mind still associating the feeling with the curse.
Both Daphne and Madame Pomfrey sucked in sharp breaths as a copy of Bellatrix Lestrange sat on the bed.
"I'm sorry," Lyra muttered miserably, though not quite feeling the proper emotions, though tears streamed down her face. "I'm not her. I don't want to be her," she said, almost sobbing though without any of the correct emotions. She looked at them with big pleading eyes, begging them to understand.
Madame Pomfrey immediately pulled a privacy curtain around the girl before taking her hand. She wasn't a mind healer, but she'd learned a thing or two when she was studying the healing arts.
"It's alright, dear, we know you're not your mother," she said tenderly. "You don't have anything to be sorry about."
Lyra didn't seem to hear them, just continuing to mutter things or people she didn't want to be.
Madame Pomfrey sighed and went to the potions cabinet again, pulling out a darker potion that Daphne recognized from her youth when she'd had trouble (nightmares) sleeping.
"A draught of dreamless sleep?"
"Yes. You should head back to class, Miss Greengrass, Miss Black will be alright," Madame Pomfrey explained.
"Can I come back after dinner?" Daphne asked.
"If she's awake, I'll allow a visit, but I would like her to sleep off the soreness she'll no doubt feel from resisting her own bodies change. Additionally, sometimes, sleep helps with the…the uncomfortableness of the imperius curse," the matron explained.
Daphne nodded dejectedly as the matron got Lyra to drink the potion down until, a few seconds later, she slipped into sleep, relaxing her body and easing her mind into sweet nothingness. Her body slowly changed back to a more familiar shape, though in her true base form, Daphne could see both sides of Lyra's lineage. She saw the Bones family's dark brown hair combined with Bellatrix's signature curls. The angular jaw could be either side, Daphne mused, as Madame Bones had them as well as Bellatrix, and Susan was beginning to lose that stubborn baby fat that hid away a similar jawline.
"I'll look after your friend, Miss Greengrass. You should return to class," the hospital matron said sternly before turning to update the patient file for Lyra. "Besides, I have a formal complaint to make about Professor Moody's teaching methods, and none of the words I have to use are appropriate for young ears," the woman muttered under her breath.
Daphne didn't think she had been meant to hear that, so she chose to pretend as if she hadn't. She walked through the large wooden of the hospital wing straight into Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley. Three of Lyra's closest friends.
"Is she alright? Have you seen her?" Hermione asked, chewing on her nail to hide how truly anxious she was to see her best friend. Daphne slipped back into her 'ice queen' persona, not wanting to deal with all of this in a slightly more emotional state than she was used to.
"Madame Pomfrey has administered a sleeping draught, and asked me to leave. Though, she said I would be fine to come back after dinner if Lyra is awake, and I would assume the same would apply to you," Daphne explained before stepping around the trio.
"Did she say what caused it?" Ron asked. Daphne said nothing for a few moments, peering at the three, as if seizing the chance to study them up close without the pressure of helping to save Lyra from freezing to death (here's hoping that didn't happen this year).
"It's not for me to discuss so openly, Mr. Weasley. If you wish to know, you should consult Lyra when she wakes up, as Madame Pomfrey will not discuss such things either without her permission," Daphne explained in a rather bored tone. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should be heading to class. madame Pomfrey will doubtlessly tell you the same."
With that, Daphne swept down the corridor, hurrying along to her next class, which just so happened to be Transfiguration.
"You two go on ahead, I'll join you in a moment," Hermione said, looking at the door. Harry and Ron stayed put.
Hermione nodded before heading in. Madame Pomfrey stopped them at the door.
"I know you want to see your friend, but she needs rest. The Imperius curse can do weird things in a persons mind once they come out of it, so I've given her a sleeping draught that will keep her asleep until dinner," the matron explained.
"We know. We just wanted to see her," Harry said. "Just a quick moment."
Madame Pomfrey gave a sharp nod. "Alright. A quick moment and then off to class with you."
The trio surrounded the bed where Lyra slept, a little unnerved that this was the first time all of them had seen her without all the modifications she made to herself.
Relaxed and asleep, Lyra was only about five foot five inches, though she regularly liked to be around six feet. She was lean where she normally filled herself out a bit more, but it was the small changes that they noticed. The cheeks, the chin, the nose.
She looked very much like her mother.
She also looked very much at peace, Hermione noticed. Lyra did, after all, sleep in the same dorm as herself. Hermione had noticed over the last few nights that Lyra tossed and turned quite regularly, muttering things that could scarcely be heard.
"Come on. Let's let her sleep," Hermione whispered. Ron and Harry both nodded before following Hermione out of the hospital wing to Transfiguration.
Xoxoxoxoxoxox
Lyra woke just before dinner right as her friends walked in.
"Can I go, Madame Pomfrey?" she asked, her stomach rumbling in hunger. Madame Pomfrey waved her wand a few times, the magic at the end changing color a few times before the woman was satisfied.
"I suppose. If you feel anything wrong, come back here immediately. Soreness, headaches, and bleeding from the eyes, ears, and nose," she listed. Lyra nodded in understanding.
"Of course," she said firmly before hopping off the hospital bed.
"Come on, if we hurry, Seamus won't eat all the shepherd's pies!" Ron exclaimed.
"Oh, that's tonight?" Lyra asked in delight. She loved a good shepherd's pie. Well, pie in general, but still.
"Yeah!" Ron exclaimed as they rounded a corner, coming across a group of students all milling around a notice outside the great hall.
The four, their curiosity sufficiently peaked, all strolled over to the parchment and studied it.
"Oh, schools are coming already. I thought it'd be around October or something, closer to the start of the tournament?" Lyra asked, noticing the date that said September the thirtieth.
"They probably want to give them time to adjust and get settled before throwing them into the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts. Not to mention it helps them prepare for the wrackspurts," a voice said from behind. Lyra turned around with a grin.
"Luna!" she exclaimed before tossing an arm over the blondes shoulder.
"Hello Lyra!" Luna said, a dreamy quality to her voice and a knowing sparkle in her eyes. "I always knew there was more to you then met the eye!"
"Where have you been? I haven't seen you since the start of term!" Lyra asked.
"Oh, here and there," Luna replied with a small smile. Lyra chuckled, knowing she wasn't going to get much else of an answer out of her friend.
"Well alright then, as long as you're being safe," Lyra smirked. She knew Luna had a tendency to wander absentmindedly.
"So, anyone from Ravenclaw looking to enter the tournament?" Lyra asked after a moment, turning to face the piece of parchment. Ron, Harry, and Hermione all stared at Luna expectedly.
"I'm not really sure. I don't pay attention to all that. Though, I do have a feeling that the Hogwarts champion will be quite unexpected," Luna said firmly after a few seconds of thought. "Unfortunately, I don't think it'll be anyone from Ravenclaw."
"I don't know about Ravenclaw," said Ernie Macmillan as he rather rudely butted in. "But I know Cedric is going to enter. And he's got the best shot at getting it!"
And with that, Ernie was off.
"Rude," Lyra muttered.
"Cedric?" Ron questioned.
"Diggory," Harry elaborated.
"That idiot?!" Ron exclaimed. "He can't be Hogwarts' champion!"
"He's not a bad guy," Hermione jumped in. "You're just upset he managed to beat Gryffindor in the quidditch game last year."
"Susan said he's a really nice guy," Lyra added. "Makes sure all the firsties are good to go, greets all the second years personally when they come back. She's said he's a great Head Boy, a person she aspires to be like." From Susan, that was pretty high praise.
"Well, in any case, I think I would like to eat now. I hope they have good pudding for later though. Yesterday's was boring. Not wiggly jumpers in it," Luna said.
"I agree. I'm hungry," Lyra said, marching after the blonde before heading to the Gryffindor table, despite not knowing what wiggly jumpers were. She gave a polite nod to Daphne as she headed towards the lions table before sitting down and tucking in for dinner.
xoxoxoxoxox
The week passed by in a blur, with the only notable thing happening being a response from Narcissa, and even an included letter from Amelia.
"Lyra,
What you are feeling is completely natural, I think, for anyone in your situation. You've been thrust into a position of great wealth and influence with very little warning, and you're feeling the pressure of it.
Let me give you some advice.
Don't worry about those things. You're fourteen! Enjoy it! It is my responsibility, both as your godmother and your proxy to handle these things until you're of age. Yes, it is good that you take these matters so seriously, but do not forget to live while you grow; enjoy the moment. Do not live for a future that hasn't yet come.
And the staring? Let them!
Be bold! be audacious!
You are the Lady of House Black. They will stare anyway, so you might as well give them a good reason!
Your mother? You are not her. You will never be her. Do not trouble yourself with something so unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Rather than a warning, let your mother be a guide. A guide in who not to be. A guide that tells you the kind of people to avoid.
I am glad you wrote to me about these things, Lyra, and I hope my advice helps in some way.
Love to you always,
Narcissa"
"Lyra,
Narcissa showed me the letter you wrote, and I will give you the same advice I gave to Susan when began Hogwarts.
The people you see around you…they are children, just like yourself. And for the first few years of their lives at Hogwarts, they will be much like the adults that raised them until they slowly come to be their own people, with their own problems or wishes, hopes and dreams. These whispers, the staring? They'll fade with time till it is nothing but a memory.
These children will grow up, as you have, and be thrust out into the real world, and they will come to realize that they grew up long ago, as you did.
And about becoming our mother?
You won't.
Do you want to know how I know?
Because you have me, and Narcissa, and Susan, and all your friends who love you, and look out for you. If you ever find yourself unable to trust your own mind, trust ours. We love you, Lyra, and we won't let you become something we know you are not.
You are an extraordinary young woman with a compassionate heart and sharp mind.
Don't let those things be buried by doubt.
Love,
Amelia.
Ps, please tell Susan she needs to write home more often, and that no, a few words hastily scribbled down don't count. I love that girl like she's my own daughter, but she's so forgetful sometimes I simply have to laugh. Just like her father. As are you, in some ways."
Lyra cherished the letters, reading them repeatedly, whenever she had a chance. It was the same advice she'd gotten many times growing up from some of the older girls who didn't get adopted.
But this felt different. Was it because it came from people who mattered, people who knew her? Or was it simply because it was from family who meant well and wanted her to be happy? She didn't know, but it made things infinitely easier to deal with.
For the next week, she ignored the whispers, the stares, the derogatory and downright sexist comments about her body, even from the older students. In fact, she flaunted it. She gave herself red hair with a dark blue streak running down the middle just because she could. Her eyes became heterochromatic; one violet, the other a nice shade of ocean blue.
Those were the only consistent things about her. The rest of her body changed daily. Nothing that could male fantasy, of course, she wasn't doing it for them, but she made herself tall, or short, or thin, or heavier set. She gave herself muscle, at one-point, broad shoulders and strong hips. Many of the male population looked away in discomfort, but Lyra loved every minute of it. Sometimes she completely changed to look normal and see how long it would take for anybody to notice that she was missing.
She had the time of her life.
At least for that week.
Xoxoxoxoxoxox
The thirtieth of September rolled around with much anticipation. The two schools that would be joining Hogwarts in the Tournament were due to arrive soon, and nobody could stop talking about what the students would be like. Even Lyra herself was wondering. She knew Beauxbatons was in France, located somewhere in the south, though the exact location escaped her memory. Durmstrang was another story; nobody knew where it was. Narcissa, who had mentioned that Lucius had wanted to send Draco away for the rest of his education (she'd only just convinced him how bad of an idea that was before the marriage had been dissolved) to Durmstrang didn't even know where the school was. By the sounds of it, neither did Lucius.
Lyra personally believed it was somewhere in the Norwegian-Swiss region due to the fact that that area was far enough north for the rumors of its location to be true, and it was a mountainous area, making it easy to hide a castle with very little magic.
When the day finally came to an end, everyone gathered in the courtyard to watch the other schools arrive.
Beauxbatons arrived first with a carriage drawn by Pegasus (Pegasi? Pegasus'?) that landed heavily near the forbidden forest.
Durmstrang arrived in a submersible boat, somehow appearing in the middle of a land locked lake that, as far as Lyra knew, had no underground passages to the ocean. She shrugged off the absurdity.
Magic; what a hell of a thing.
The students all cheered as the foreigners made their way up to the castle, escorted by their teachers and heads of their schools.
The Hogwarts students all sat in the great hall with the small envoys from the other schools just outside.
"Now, before we begin our welcoming feast for our guests," Dumbledore began. "Let us welcome the students of Beauxbatons!" he called. The doors opened with a loud clanging as several teenagers, of all shapes and sizes, stepped through the doors in light blue robes. The girls had a modest dress that came up to the knee, while a cape covered their shoulders, and an oddly shaped hat adorned their heads. The men, on the other hand, had a uniform not to dissimilar from the Hogwarts uniform, though this one was light blue.
She continued to look at them as they entered the great hall, obviously preforming an introductory show they'd rehearsed for this occasion. The boys and girls were helplessly enthralled by the gentle features the students of Beauxbatons were graced with. Rounded faces, kind smiles, and fluid movements had just about everyone swooning. It wasn't until a familiar head of blonde hair peaked through the crowd of students though, that Lyra broke her attention away from the main event.
She recognized Gabrielle immediately. How could she not? She had risked her life to protect the girl from Death Eaters who would have done unspeakable things if they'd gotten a hold of her. She wondered how the girl was doing, and vowed to ask when she had the chance.
Once the Beauxbatons students were seated, Dumbledore looked to the door again.
"And now, the proud sons and daughters of Durmstrang!" he called.
The door banged open again, though this time with more deliberate force as boys and girls a few years her senior all stepped through the arch of the great hall. They strode with a purpose, their wintry cloaks billowing out behind them as they marched. Some of them pounded staffs against the ground, creating little sparks as they performed a more athletic demonstration for the gaping students of Hogwarts.
"That's-That's Viktor Krum!" Ron whispered in excitement. Lyra's eyes slid to the Bulgarian seeker, picking him out easily. She only really knew of him because he had played in the Quidditch world cup.
An impressive display of fire breathing (something Lyra definitely wanted to learn because it was cool looking) wrapped up the Durmstrang entrance.
"One more announcement before we begin!" Dumbledore called. "After last years security breach at Hogwarts, and given the attack during the World cup, the minister felt it important to have security here for the duration of the tournament. In addition to the our foreign guests, Hogwarts will be playing host to several dozen aurors who will protect us should anything happen. They will arrive tomorrow, so I expect each and every one of you to be on your best behaviour," Dumbledore said before smiling. "Now, let us begin our excellent welcoming feast before tonight's main even!" he called, clapping his hands. The food appeared as it always did, though this time, there was a foreign selection.
Lyra spooned herself a bit of everything, regardless of what it happened to be. She liked trying new foods, and Hogwarts was the best for it. She didn't really like Kreature's food selections all that much; they were always far too spicy.
"What's that?" Ron asked in barely disguised disgust.
"It's Bouillabaisse," Hermione replied, spooning some onto her plate. "It's French."
"It's not bad," Lyra added thoughtfully after taking a bight. "A bit too much fishiness for my taste, but it's not bad."
Lyra ate in peace, content to listen to her friends conversations, and ignoring the ones from people she had no need or time for.
As she was just finishing eating, she felt a slight tugging at her mind, something unnatural, familiar, but not quite to the point of being uncomfortable.
"Excuse me, are you wanting anymore of ze bouillabaisse?" a French accented voice asked. Lyra turned around to see another head of bright blonde hair.
Ron shamelessly ogled her, and Lyra knew her hair was beginning to gain light pink and blue streaks in it. The girl looked oddly at her for a moment before Harry spoke.
"No, go ahead. We just finished with it. It's not bad, Lyra and Hermione enjoyed it," Harry said, holding the dish out for her to take.
The girl nodded her thanks before walking off with the bowl.
"She's a Veela!" Ron exclaimed. Hermione frowned a bit.
"She's definitely not, Ron. She doesn't have the whole of the boys in the cafeteria falling over themselves to talk to her," she countered.
"No, Ron's right," Lyra muttered, her eyes tracking the girl before she shook off whatever it was that had tried to grip her mind. She looked pointedly at many of the boys who were shamelessly looking at her, their eyes scouring every inch of her body. Lyra noted with interest that when the girl finally sat down at the ravenclaw table, she sat down next to Gabriella and began talking a mile a minute with her. Friends? Sisters perhaps? That would explain the similar platinum blonde hair. "I'll be right back," Lyra announced to her friends before getting up and heading to the Ravenclaw table.
She could feel the eyes of many students on her as she headed for the 'Claw's table, but she ignored them as she had been for the last week.
When she finally reached the Ravenclaw table, she gave a warm smile to Luna who sent one back before she tapped Gabrielle on the shoulder.
"I don't know if you remember me, in fact I don't even know if you'd recognize me, but I remember you from the Quidditch world cup, and I-oof!" Lyra exclaimed, nearly knocked off her feet as the small girl wrapped herself around Lyra's stomach, babbling rapidly in French. Lyra gave a small chuckled before patting the girl on the back. "I'm sorry," she admitted, a little sheepishly. "I don't really understand French. My godmother has promised to teach me over the winter, though, so hopefully by then we'll be able to speak with one another," Lyra laughed, her hair turning a delighted orange.
"No need," the girl, Veela, replied. "She said zat she is happy to see you again, zat she had hoped to thank you in person. She wanted to write, but we never got your name."
"Ah, well, my name Is Lyra Black. From what I remember, if I overheard correctly, you're Gabrielle Delacour. A pleasure to meet you," she greeted warmly. Gabrielle babbled rapidly, a smile on her face as she talked a mile a minute.
"Yes," the other girl translated. "'It is an honor to meet my savior in person! Thank you!'"
The Ravenclaw's looked stunned as Lyra smiled happily down at the girl. Gabrielle dragged Lyra down to sit at an open on the bench at the table before continuing to speak in rapid French.
"'Oh, I have been rude, forgive me. Zis is my sister, Fleur,'" the girl, Fleur, translated before holding out her hand. "Hello, a pleasure to meet you. Gabrielle has not stopped talking about you for nearly a month now. It is nice to finally put a face to the story she told!" Fleur explained. "You are somewhat of a hero to her, I must admit."
"I'm not a hero," Lyra murmured, barely able to be heard over the din of conversation surrounding her. "I just did what any sane person would have done."
"Except, zey did not," Fleur countered. "Zey ran, leaving her alone at ze mercy of zose monsters," she said calmly, though Lyra could sense a buried anger.
"True," Lyra muttered. "Anyways, I'm glad I wasn't so freaked out that I looked so different then what I do now. That would've been really confusing!" Lyra joked, laughing slightly. Gabrielle and Fleur both looked at her in conclusion before she gained a mischievous glint in her eyes, both orbs turning a bright pink before she shifted her face completely, transforming into Fleur herself. "I'm a metamorph. I cant exactly control how I shift in high stress situations. Case in point being the disaster at the world cup."
Fleur and Gabrielle both looked at her in fascination as she shifted back.
"A Metamorph? I have never met one of you before!" Fleur exclaimed. Gabrielle was babbling on and on in French until her older sister translated for her. "She wants to know if you can teach her how to do zat," Fleur said in amusement.
Lyra chuckled regretfully.
"Unfortunately, you have to be born a metamorph. I can't teach you how to shapeshift like I do. Sorry," Lyra said before looking to the head table where it seemed that Dumbledore was standing once again. "Anyways, I should be heading back to my friends so that we can all stay together and head back to our dorms once this was over. I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad you seem to be alright," Lyra said softly. Gabrielle hugged her tightly before turning to Fleur and speaking something. Fleur responded a bit hesitantly but nodded nonetheless when Gabrielle insisted.
"She wants to know if you would like to meet again. She wants to talk wiz you, thank you properly. I must admit, I would like to thank you as well, as would our parents," Fleur explained.
Lyra's hair turned light blue, something that didn't often happen. She really had only wanted to make sure Gabrielle had been unharmed as she herself couldn't really remember. She didn't want any sort of recognition for it. "It's fine. You don't have to do anything for me or even thank me. Like I said. I saw that she needed help, and I helped her. Nothing more," she tried to politely say.
"I insist. It is my family's honor at stake, and I will not let the Noble House of Delacour's name be sullied by ozer's who would claim we are ungrateful for you saving my sister's life!" Fleur insisted.
Lyra couldn't refuse now. And Fleur knew it. She was a noble in France if what Lyra had heard was correct, Fleur was the heiress of the house of Delacour, an old French line. If she refused, it wouldn't look good on either houses. Not to mention, Fleur had said all this in public.
Lyra could feel the eyes boring into her skull.
"Alright then," she accepted. Fleur gave a reserved smile as Gabrielle grinned like a lunatic. "This weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend. We can meet in the town. There's also a floo, so if your parents wanted, we could meet at the pub and chat over lunch?" she suggested.
"I zink my parents would be most agreeable to such an idea," Fleur grinned. "We will see you zis weekend."
Lyra chuckled and shook her head before giving Gabrielle a wave goodbye and heading back to her own table, back to the questioning looks of her friends.
She didn't notice the icey blue eyes staring at her before they glared at Fleur with a jealous intensity.
AN: So, Gabrielle clearly remembers Lyra. What does this mean for our favorite metamorph?
To avoid any confusion, the next chapter takes place only a few minutes after this one. I was orignially going to just combine them, but I cut it in half because it was far too long as it was. Anyways, hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you in the next one.
Red=angry
Gray=nervous/anxious/irritated
Orange=happy/excited
Blue=sad/overwhelmed
Purple=worried/concerned/frustrated
Green=jealous/suspicious/grossed out
Brown=content/relaxed
Yellow=afraid/shocked
Pink=amusement/surprise/mischievous
Silver=determination
Light blue=embarrassment