Lyra was moved into the Malfoy Manor after she was discharged from St. Mungos. Narcissa said her parents were off on an important mission and would be gone for a while. Lyra believed Narcissa because she was her family. Narcissa wouldn't lie to her like those strangers. Lyra wanted to believe her aunt but the events that occurred afterward made her question everything.
Narcissa and Lyra were walking in Diagon Ally when a flash of light blinded them. A man with a camera took a picture of them. He was a reporter and asked her if she had visited her parents in Azkaban yet. Narcissa was so enraged at the reporter's audacity to ask a child such a question. She pulled out her wand and hexed him before she Apparated them home. Narcissa explained to Lyra that the man was speaking nonsense and that she shouldn't listen to anything he said.
That single picture of Lyra was on the front page of the Daily Prophet and other publications for months. Anyone who followed the Lestrange trial recognized Lyra Lestrange as the daughter of the murderous couple. Malfoy Manor was plagued by owls from reporters. They were requesting to see Lyra and ask her questions. Lucius declined interviews of any kind. He complained to the Ministry about the reporters' harassment. The Ministry had to issue a magical restraining order against all those who had tried or would try to approach and harm Lyra because she is far too young to understand the world around her. She might become traumatized by the bombardment from wizards and witches who would want to make a profit out of her and her story.
The Malfoys' plan to stop this once and for all was by keeping Lyra away from public view. Lyra was kept inside the manor. Occasionally, they'd go far off isolated vacation spots where no one would recognize her. Years passed and the public's interest in Lyra thinned. The reporters had given up and moved on to newer topics.
Narcissa was against Lyra attending Hogwarts. Her notorious parents had killed or injured loads of families. They might take their revenge out on her. Narcissa voiced her concerns to Lucius. He came up a solution. Have Lyra sent to Durmstrang, the school up north.
"Must we send her so far away?" Narcissa asked her husband.
"She cannot go to Hogwarts." Lucius said, "You know what will happen. The other children will ridicule and tease her. Some might even attack her on the train if they find out who she is."
"What about Beauxbaton?" Narcissa suggested, "We can move to our other manor there, the one really close to the school, so we can be together. Then Draco can attend it too - we'll be able to see them both every day after school and on weekends."
"You can't keep the children with you their entire lives." He said. They hadn't even started school yet and she's already having separation anxiety.
"But Durmstrang is much too far away, what if she needs us?" she persisted, "Why must you make her start so early - she supposed to be in the same year as Draco."
"Durmstrang will groom Lyra into a fine witch and I want her to start early so she can see what it's like to be in school without Draco for one year. They have the rest of their lives to be together. At this point, they need some distance before they begin to grow tired of one another and resent each other."
"And it has nothing to do with you wanting to make connections abroad?" Narcissa asked her husband. She knew him far too well to not see passed his latest scheme. If Lyra was attending Durmstrang then he would have reasons to visit the area.
~September 1, 1990
"Owl me when you get to your room and every day. Tell me everything that happens." Narcissa told Lyra, pressing her niece's face to her chest.
"Narcissa, you'll suffocate the poor girl." Lucius drawled. "And owling once a week is enough."
Narcissa ignored her husband's comment. She continued to hug her niece.
"Daddy, daddy," Draco whispered, pulling at his father's robes, "she's not going to do this when I go to school is she?"
"It'll be worse." Lucius said knowingly.
"What?!"
"What's the matter Draco?" Lyra asked her little cousin.
"Nothing." he said.
"Draco, come here," Narcissa said, holding her hand out to him, "come properly say goodbye to your cousin. You won't be seeing her until her birthday party."
Draco looked up at his father and gave him the do-I-have-too look. When Lucius nodded Draco reluctantly stomped his way to his cousin. He said a lazy bye and tried to return to his father's side, but his father poked his back with the head of his cane. The gesture was for him to go back and say it like he meant it. Draco stepped forward, between his distressed mother and expecting cousin.
"Goodbye, Lyra." He said with the saddest expression he could muster and hoped it was convincing.
"Goodbye, Draco." Lyra said.
Draco stepped back to his father's side.
"Show off..." Draco muttered under his breath when he caught his father admiring his cousin's reserved demeanor.
His father was always scolding him for every little thing he did wrong, but with Lyra his father was always nodding in approval. It was obvious to the young wizard that, in his father's eyes, Lyra could do no wrong. Draco despised her for that, and stealing his parent's attention from him as well. But not anymore, she'll be away, at school. He'll have all their attention to himself now.
"I'll send you all of your favorite sweets every week." Narcissa said before the horn was blown, signaling the parents to leave the ship's deck.
Narcissa kissed Lyra one last time before she released her. She took her Lucius' arm as she walked down the steps to the pier. Lyra stepped to the edge of the ship, rested her hand on the rail. She lifted her small hand to wave goodbye to her family. Her schoolmates beside her waved wildly at their parents, with pink faces from the chilling weather, wailing their goodbyes.
Lyra is the only one in her year that was not with tears and boogers on her face, nor was she screaming, crying, or begging them not to leave, like her would be schoolmates. She was demonstrating mature behavior, taught to her by her proper pure blood upbringing.
An older student, who introduced himself as Adam, called everyone to the forecastle to show them their quarters. Lyra observed her schoolmates as their rooms were assigned. He would call them two-by-two in alphabetical order. When the students came forward, he would point at a bare area in the wall in the hall. They had to choose a password quietly. After a password was selected a symbol would appear on the wooden wall, and Adam would tell them to walk right in. Two-by-two students disappeared into the wooden frame.
"Lekas! Lestrange!" Adam read the list.
Lyra came forward followed by a brown haired girl with thick black glasses that made her green eyes appear as if they were about to pop out of her face. She was completely tanned over, an obvious indication of having spent long hours on the beach, possibly on the coastline in her native Greek country, if her last name was any indication.
"Password?" Adam said, pointing at a bare wall.
"Hi! I'm Veralidaine Lekas, and you are?" the witch introduced herself to Lyra.
"Password?" Adam repeated.
Veralidaine looked at him and said, "Oh, right, sorry!" she glanced at the other children awaiting their turn, "Sorry! – password?" she turn to Lyra, letting her decide.
Lyra observed the witch up and down, and turned to the wall, "Obelus." She said in a low tone and entered the port hole.
"Obelus?" Veralidaine repeated after she followed Lyra in. "Meaning dagger? Why did you choose that word?"
"I chose Obelus as in a sign used to mark questionable or corrupt text passages." said Lyra.
"Okay," Veralidaine shrugged and went through her luggage that was placed in their room already. "Oh!" she squealed, "You haven't told me your name yet – I'm Veralidaine Lekas."
"Lyra Lestrange." she answered.
"Lestrange, Lestrange. I think I heard of that name before." Veralidaine said, pondering the thought. "Holy cricket!" she breathed. "Aren't your parents –"
"Yes." Lyra answered bluntly.
Veralidaine was staring at her like she was a rarely spotted exotic creature. In defense, Lyra stared back at her, mirroring her face but with more shock in her eyes, which was a bit difficult considering Veralidaine had aid from her glasses. Lyra's face lacked the assistance. The witch's face was completely readable. Lyra saw that the other girl was shocked. She also seemed amazed, curious, and blushing? It was hard to tell with her skin so dark, but Lyra somehow managed. After a while Veralidaine blinked, ending their staring contest.
"Sorry." she apologized, looking at her feet and blinking some more. "It's – it's not that I'm judging you. I – I never met one of you before... and...and…" she couldn't think of anything to say. Maybe a compliment would help? "You're so pretty."
Lyra constructed her face back to normal with skilled ease and said, "Don't worry." she was not insulted the less bit by her emphasis on the word you.
"No! - I mean -" Veralidaine bit her bottom lips, trying to think of some way to redeem herself. "I don't blame you – you're not your parents – you're different -"
"I understand what you're trying to say." Lyra said, having no desire to watch the witch squirm any longer. "Thank you."
Veralidaine smiled brightly at her words but then her smile faded and her face fell. "I don't think badly of you but... but the others out there might."
"I don't care." Lyra replied, looking through her things.
She pulled out a copy of the Iliad and began to read it. Seeing as Lyra was too busy to pay her any attention, Veralidaine took her large glasses off and decided to have a quick nap.
"Veralidaine," Lyra shook her, "wake up, we're here."
"Ten more minutes, daddy." Veralidaine groaned.
Veralidaine opened her eyes and squinted at the blurry colors. Lyra handed Veralidaine her glasses. Veralidaine put them on and took in her surroundings. Her face scrunched up and she began to cry.
"Mommy! Daddy! Where?" she sobbed.
Lyra handed her a handkerchief, took a step back, and sat on her bed. She took out her copy of the Iliad and began reading from where she left off. It was not as if she was an inconsiderate person. She was giving Veralidaine room to cry and to get it out of her system. Veralidaine needed to come to terms with the fact that she wouldn't be seeing her parent's everyday anymore. Veralidaine was lucky compared to her. At least Veralidaine could still see her parents every few months.
"Sorry," Veralidaine sniffed, "I swear I've never done this before... crying so much."
Lyra closed her book and put it away, "It's natural to miss your parents." she said. She pulled out another handkerchief and helped Veralidaine wipe her face. She often did this for Draco. He was always making a mass and she couldn't use her magic to clean him up.
"I must look awful." Veralidaine sniffed.
"Yes, dreadful."
Veralidaine whimpered at Lyra blunt honestly but appreciated the fact that she did not say it in a mean, scolding way. Lyra's tone was serene and relaxed, if she didn't know any better she would think Lyra was giving her a compliment. Veralidaine stared up at her, wondering how she did that.
"Come, we'll be late for the welcoming feast." Lyra said, brushing away the last line of tears on Veralidaine's face.
"Okay." Veralidaine nodded and followed Lyra out.
"You're not going to change?" Lyra asked, gesturing to her attire.
Lyra had already changed into her school robes. Veralidaine had worn hers before they got on the ship but now they were wrinkled from her sleeping in them. She patted the material down.
"No." she shook her head.
The witches joined the rest of their schoolmates in the castle. Veralidaine was walking behind Lyra, steadying her pace to match hers. She followed her closely through the crowd and by the time they were seated at a table, Lyra was certain that she had unwillingly gained herself a friend.
"Welcome." The headmaster said as he walked up to the podium. "Before we begin the feast I would like you inform the new students about our rules and regulations."
His speech was short and simple, easy for the first years to understand. After the feast was over an older witch and wizard appeared. They introduced themselves to be the head boy and girl and told them to follow them as they give them a tour of the castle. All first year witches follow the head girl, while all first year wizards follow the head boy.
"Durmstrang consists of four floors," said the head girl, leading them through the corridors.
Lyra was about to walk into the corridors with the group, but something caught her eye and made her stop.
"What are you looking at?" Veralidaine asked, taking her glasses off to clean them.
When Veralidaine put them back on she saw the carving on the wall and went up to examine it. There, on the wall, was a triangle over a circle with a line going through them.
"What is this?" Veralidaine asked, turning to Lyra for the answer.
"It's his sign," a wizard answered, "Grindelvald's sign..."
Lyra turned around to face a tall wizard with dark hair and eyes. Veralidaine went to stand beside Lyra, all the while staring at the wizard.
"Hey!" the head girl shouted, gesturing them to return to the group.
Lyra walked away without a second glance at the wizard or the carving. Veralidaine realized Lyra was leaving and ran to catch up with her.
"What a cutie." Veralidaine mouthed to her.
At the end of the tour, Lyra entered her new room with Veralidaine in tow. Their luggage was already there, having been brought in by the school's house elves. Lyra took out another piece of parchment and a quill to write to her aunt to tell her that she had gotten to the school safely. For the rest of the day, Lyra stayed in her new four poster bed with her bed curtains closed. She stared at the ceiling until she drifted off to sleep.
The next morning was their first day of class. Charms was their first class. Lyra had awoken early and was the first to have arrived. Veralidaine was right behind her. Slowly, the empty class began to fill. Students were seated, waiting for their professor to arrive.
"Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good is it? I've tried a few simple spells myself and they've all worked for me." Veralidaine said smugly.
Lyra looked over at the witches arguing over who was better in Charms, apparently Veralidaine was winning.
"Yes, it's a real spell." the other witch argued, "It didn't work simply because – because I wasn't focused enough."
"Oh?" said Veralidaine.
"Watch closely." the witch said. She lifted her wand and dropped it, startled by the arrival of their professor.
"Good morning." He greeted. "I am professor Ryes, welcome to your first Charms class." he said looking over his students. "Can anyone tell me, what's the most important thing you must remember when casting a spell?"
Veralidaine hand was the first to fly up.
"You, there." He pointed at her.
"Pronunciation, sir." she said with a smile.
"Good." he said, "and what's next?"
Veralidaine's hand was up again but the professor chose another student to answer. She put her arm down in disappointment. Lyra placed her hand over the witch's in an effort to comfort her and lessen her pouting. It always worked with Draco. Veralidaine smiled toothily at Lyra's gesture and laced her finger with her.
"Wrist movement." A wizard answered.
"Wingardium leviosa is a levitating charm…" the professor began.
They were learning how to perform the levitating charm. Lyra made her quill float on her first try. Veralidaine did it on her fifth try. Those who were able to cast the spell were made to help the others who couldn't. The wizard Lyra was paired with was able to cast the charm within seconds, but Veralidaine is having trouble with her partner.
"Wingardium leviosar!" the witch shouted, flicking her wand.
"Stop, stop, stop!" Veralidaine shouted, frantically waving her hand, "You're going to take someone's eye out." She scolded her.
"I trying me best!" the witch cried.
"I know you are," Veralidaine said in what she thought was nicely but it sounded like she was being arrogant. "You're saying it wrong. It's LeviOsa, not LeviosAR!"
"Let me help." Lyra said, getting in between the witches. She did not like the way the witch was glaring murderously at Veralidaine.
Lyra and Veralidaine's next class together was Potions. Veralidaine quickly became their professor's favorite, causing jealousy among her classmates. While the professor left the room to speak to another professor, he left Veralidaine in charge. Veralidaine took to the position given to her. She walked about the room inspecting the other students' cauldron, commenting on the colors, if they were wrong or right, and amount of bubbles that the potion should be expelling. She returned to hers and Lyra's cauldron to demonstrate to the class what their boil cure potion should look like.
"As you can see the color is supposed to be ashy green, not dark green," she said, eyeing the cauldron on her far left, "and not light green," she said eyeing another table, "and most definitely not black."
Meanwhile, Lyra poured a jar of dried nettles into the cauldron. She told Veralidaine to go get the jar of horned slugs so that they could stew before they put them in. Veralidaine went to the storage closet to get it. On her way back she tripped and fell, dropping the glass jar and cutting her palms with its shard pieces. Veralidaine screamed at the stinging pain of the liquid, used to preserve the slugs, as it leaked into her cuts.
"No one move! There's glass on the floor!" Lyra shouted and her classmates froze. She grabbed a clean cloth and made her way to Veralidaine, mindful of the glass. She calmed Veralidaine down and carefully helped her get back on her feet. Using the levitating charm, she picked up Veralidaine's glasses off the floor and wrapped the cloth around it.
Upon hearing Veralidaine scream, their Potions professor came back into the room.
"Scourgify!" he shouted, cleaning the mess and tending to the injured witch. He managed to remove the glass shards from Veralidaine' skin and heal the cuts but sent her and Lyra off to the hospital wing for a thorough examination.
The school healer looked over Veralidaine and released her back to class.
"Thanks." Veralidaine said to Lyra after they left the hospital wing.
"Don't worry about it." Lyra said and held out her broken glasses.
"You brought me my glasses. Are they broken?" asked Veralidaine.
"Yes,"
Veralidaine took out her wand from her pocket. "Oculus Reparo!" she said and her glasses repaired themselves. She put her glasses on her face. "It's a handy charm my daddy taught."
The witches returned to the Potions class room, Veralidaine was completely fine, and continued with their potion. Their professor, being cautious, told her to stay seated and not use her hands too much. That being the case, she sat on her stool stirring the potion and Lyra had to retrieve the ingredients.
Lyra waited beside Veralidaine until the wizard she had been watching went into the storage closet. She followed him in and closed the door behind them.
"Apologize." Lyra said to the wizard.
"What?" He asked turning around to face her, appearing confused.
"Apologize to my friend for tripping her earlier."
"She's clumsy and fell on her own." He said. "How are you sure it was me? With that know it all attitudes of hers - practically anyone could be the culprit!"
"I saw you sticking your feet out when she was walking." Lyra said coldly, advancing towards the wizard. "Apologize."
The wizard began to step back. He knew who she was. They all did after they heard their professor casually stating her last name.
"I-I am n-not sc-cared of you!"
"Try saying that again without stuttering." She said with wicked menace. "Maybe then, I'll believe you."
The wizard shook with terror. He didn't know what to do. She was blocking the only exit.
"You saw me in Charms. Know why I'm so good? I had loads of practice with my parents." she plastered on a bright smile that made him pale.
Veralidaine was stirring her potion when a nameless wizard approached her.
"I'm sorry. I had my foot in the aisle while you were walking and accidentally tripped you. Please, accept my apology and let me buy you a new pair of glasses and carry your bag to your next class."
Veralidaine stared blankly at him for a moment. "What?" she asked, he was speaking too fast for her to understand.
The wizard nervously side glanced at Lyra. She was leaning against the wall, while staring at him with cold eyes. Swallowing an imaginary lump in his throat, he spoke a bit louder. "I'm sorry. I had my foot in the aisle while you were walking and accidentally tripped you. Please accept my apology and let me buy you a new pair of glasses and carry your bag to your next class."
This time Veralidaine was able to understand him and accepted his apology. After that incident no one dared to pull pranks on Veralidaine. Who would want to go near the friend of Lyra Lestrange, the murderers' child?
Lyra reluctantly embraced her label as the murderers' child. She was feared and avoided because of her family's reputation. No one talked to her unless they had too. Those who were bold enough would stare and whisper.
As weeks went by, Veralidaine's attempt to befriend other first years was becoming useless. She finally gave up and remained with Lyra. She cared a lot for Lyra because despite Lyra's cold demeanor, Veralidaine found her to be the kindest person in the school. Lyra never told she was annoying, avoided her, or laughed at her behind her back like the other first years. Lyra accepted her for being who she was and she appreciated that.
In the library, Veralidaine was arguing with yet another witch about the twelve uses of dragon's blood. Meanwhile, Lyra tuned out the conversation in front of her and focused on her writing. A few minutes later the other witch, Lyra didn't bother to catch her name, jumped up from her seat and stumped out of the library in a huff.
"Ly, Ly..." Veralidaine whispered the nickname she gave Lyra, "he's staring at you again."
"So?" Lyra said, without looking up from her paper.
"I think he likes you. He's been stalking you for weeks. You know, since we meet him on the first day- haven't you noticed how he's always there? Like, when we get out of class - he's there against the wall, staring down at something when we turn to look at him."
Veralidaine would think that but Lyra thought otherwise. "Maybe he likes to lean against walls and admire his shoes?"
"What about during breakfast? Couldn't you feel his eyes on you? I did and still do, it makes me shutter."
"Maybe he's looking at you?"
"No, he's looking at you - definitely you." Veralidaine said with a nod, and then she inclined her, lost in thought, "Want me to go ask him if he likes you?"
"No." Lyra said with no emotion.
"Why nooooot." Veralidaine whined.
"I'm involved."
"What?" Veralidaine said, bolting from her chair and staring at her wide eyed, "YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME!?"
The librarian glared at them from her desk.
"Sit down." Lyra said.
Veralidaine opened her mouth about to protest but decided against it and sat down.
"I don't have a boyfriend. I have a fiancé."
"How?"
"Arranged marriage."
"There's still such a thing?"
"Yes."
Veralidaine found this information interesting because Lyra rarely shared anything about her personal life with her.
"Who is he? Anyone I know?"
"No. He's in England."
"What does he look like?"
"Pale and blond."
"Do you have a picture? Can I see it?"
"No."
"Is he the one sending you all those presents? Do you owl him? Does he owl you?"
"No."
"Well that's odd. He's your fiancé and he hasn't owl you?"
"Never."
"Not once?"
"No."
Veralidaine was puzzled. "What? He is too busy flirting with other witches to write to you?"
"Yes."
"What?! HE'S CHEATING ON YOU?!"
"Not exactly. I know about her, she knows about me."
"Then - then what - I don't understand." Veralidaine stuttered in confusion, and then it turned to anger. "What's her face's name? How dare she try and steal your man when she knows he's involved - that - that home wrecker!"
"You can meet them on Sunday."
"Sunday?"
"At my birthday party."
"You're birthday is on Sunday?! And you didn't tell me?!" Veralidaine exclaimed, holding her hand over her heart. "How could you just – just tell me all of these things in one day?!"
Lyra shrugged.
Veralidaine was almost afraid to ask. "Am I invited?"
"I assume you were coming."
She beamed. "In that case I am."
Lyra's birthday was on the nineteenth of September, Wednesday, but since it was on a school night, her uncle and aunt chose to have her party on Sunday. There weren't that many people at Lyra's birthday party, only close family and friends, and none mentioned a word of her parents. Lucius and Narcissa made sure they all knew what was expected of them before they could attend the Lyra's party.
"Where is he?" Veralidaine whispered to Lyra.
Lyra delicately nodded her chin in Draco's direction. Veralidaine spotted him immediately.
"You weren't kidding." Veralidaine said staring at Draco, "He's pale and blond, very blond and cute, very cute," and then her eye trailed to the brunette beside him, "who is that?"
"Pansy." Lyra answered.
"That's the whore?" she asked, pointing at the Pansy.
The guest in hearing distance turned to see what the commotion was. Veralidaine was completely mortified.
"More cake?" Lyra asked, covering for her friend's embarrassing outburst. "You want some more cake?"
"Yes…" Veralidaine said quietly, playing along with Lyra's story.
Every one returned to whatever they were doing.
"Don't call her that." Lyra said.
"Sorry." Veralidaine said quickly looking down at her feet, feeling more ashamed than embarrassed.
"She's his friend and a guest."
"Yes." Veralidaine said in a low voice. "I'm sorry."
"Don't do it again."
"I promise."