Five Things That Never Happened to Lyra Malfoy

(And one that did)

Year Two

There are two things that Lucius Malfoy knows with absolute certainty to be true.

One: If the rumors and whispers that he hears are to be believed – that the Dark Lord may still be alive in some form and seeking to return to power – then he must begin to lay the groundwork to ingratiate himself and his family back into the Dark Lord's inner circle. It is the ideal time to return the diary to Hogwarts, only he can't find it.

Two: If his children are getting along, something is, more than likely, very wrong. There has been very little fighting since they returned from Hogwarts, and this makes him watch them closely, but not closely enough.

What Lucius Malfoy doesn't know is that these two things are, in fact, related. The diary is missing because it has already found its way back to Hogwarts, and in the hands of a more loyal servant than Lucius ever could have been. Lyra discovered it the previous summer, stuck between two much larger books in her father's study, and it has been slowly poisoning her mind since she began writing in it. This year, it will act through Lyra, and do the duty it was created to do.

When the Dark Lord rises again, twelve year old Lyra will be praised.

If she survives to see it happen.

September 2, 1992

Dear Tom,

It feels so wonderful to be back at Hogwarts. I feel like I have a real purpose this year.

"What are you doing?"

Lyra shuts the diary with a snap, and turns around to glare at her brother. She's always hidden it from Draco, who doesn't deserve it; although she doesn't know by what means, she has known since she first touched it that the little book is imbued with powerful magic, and it chose her, not her brother.

"Nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing." He comes around the large library desk and sits opposite her, studying her. His eyes widen suddenly.

"Lyra, have you got– is that blood?"

She looks down, sees the stain that he is referring to on the edge of her sleeve, and shrugs.

"Must be from potions," she says, packing the diary and her other books into her bag, now that she knows she isn't going to be allowed to write in peace any longer. "Let's go down to the feast."

November 18, 1992

Dear Tom,

Father was up at the school today to watch Draco's Quidditch game. He was very angry with me that I wasn't there as well, said I ought to have been supporting my brother. I told him that I had better things to do than watch Draco lose at Quidditch.

"Ouch! Watch where you're going, Granger!"

"Sorry," Hermione responds, without sounding sorry at all, and keeps walking. The Great Hall is crowded, it seems like most of the school has turned out for the first meeting of the dueling club. A few minutes later, Lyra sees Granger reappear on the other side of the long platform that has been erected in the hall, whispering something to Potter and Weasley. Lyra isn't completely fluent at reading lips, but she thinks she sees Granger's mouth form the words, "Got it."

"Filthy little mudblood," Lyra mutters, not bothering to keep her voice low. A few people look at her, see who's talking, and pay her no mind. They think that, like her brother, she is full of empty threats. They are wrong.

Maybe Granger feels her staring; she looks up and meets Lyra's gaze defiantly. Lyra smiles.

"You'll be next," she mouths back.

January 27, 1992

Dear Tom,

I know you know something about the Chamber of Secrets, Tom. I wish you would tell me.

"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" Draco says loudly, and Lyra looks up from her Potions text to see him waving one of the books that had fallen out of Potter's ripped bag. A diary. Tom's diary, her diary, that she had misplaced in the library almost two weeks before and been searching the castle for ever since. She feels heat rising in her cheeks and tries to suppress it; the last thing she needs is for Potter to connect her to the otherwise innocuous little book, but he is entirely focused on Draco, and pays Lyra no mind. For the first time in her life, she is actually grateful to have her brother.

She also has a sinking suspicion that they will need to work together to get the diary back.

April 13, 1992

Dear Tom,

Mother is considering pulling Draco and I out of school until whatever is attacking students has been dealt with. I don't see what the issue is. Every student who's been petrified so far as been a mudblood. Slytherin's monster wouldn't dare touch us.

"Serves her right." Ron leans back in the armchair, trying to look more comfortable than he is. "She was practically gloating when Hermione got petrified."

"Yeah," Harry replies distractedly. He's only half listening to Ron. He can't stop thinking about Malfoy, about the look on his face when he was called into the staff room, and heard that his sister had been taken into the Chamber. He thinks about the message that McGonagall said had been left: Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever. "We have to try to help."

"No, we don't," Ron says determinedly. "Lockhart will handle it. As well as he can handle anything."

"That's what I'm worried about." Harry sighs. "We could at least go and tell him what we know."

Ron doesn't move, even when Harry gets to his feet. "Ron," he says after a while, "what if it had been Ginny? Wouldn't you want someone to help?"

Ron goes a bit pale at the thought, and gets up to join Harry.

"You know," Lyra says, just loudly enough to get Harry Potter's attention on the crowded platform at King's Cross Station, "I never did properly thank you."

He turns around and blinks at her, confusion plain in his ernest features. "Thank me for what?"

"For saving my life down in the Chamber." She gives him a small smile. "Of course, you also completely humiliated my father. Incriminated him, really. They'll be searching the Manor, making sure that Draco and I don't accidentally pick up any more Dark Artefacts and bring them to school. Not to mention that you got him expelled from the Board of Governors and lost us our best House Elf."

Harry continues to stare at her, seeming to be having difficulty working out whether she is angry with him or simply making conversation. It is almost cute, she thinks, the way he stares at her, not fully comprehending.

"And yet despite all that, I still find that I'm grateful to you." She pauses briefly, and then adds, "I find I'd like to give you something in return."

"Oh, no," Harry says quickly, "you don't have to– I mean, anyone would have–"

She cuts him off by raising her hand and motioning him to come closer to her. He takes a hesitant step forward, glances over his shoulder, perhaps at his Muggle relatives, and Lyra takes the opportunity to press a quick, chaste kiss to the side of his mouth. She blushes, and quickly hurries away, leaving Harry Potter standing in the middle of the crowded platform, looking shocked.

"Ew," Draco says, as she rejoins her family. "Did you just–? Ew. There is no way we're actually related."

Her mother doesn't look too happy with her actions either, but then again, she almost never does. Lyra doesn't respond to either of them, just follows them outside to the limousine that will take them out of London, still smiling to herself. She's done what she needed to do. The next time she sees him, Harry Potter will trust her.

Just as she and Tom had planned.