Chapter 9: 103 Benton Place
A/N: I apologize profusely for the long wait in between chapters. I'm currently reworking this novel to fit how I really wanted it to turn out- about Lyra. This isn't really about her relationships with guys or dementors attacking people on trains. It's about Lyra as she discovers her past. She has flirted with good, but Lyra is inherently evil. However, she is evil for reasons different than you might think. She is essentially, the female, "bad" counterpart to Harry Potter. That is the direction I wish to take this fic. Excuse my long absence again, and please enjoy!
A long absence in Lyra's conscious state brought on many unwanted dreams about those images she never wished to see. Flashes from her previous school, of spells, of boys, of her mother. And yet, on this cold wintry night, Lyra saw something she never thought she would see. It was almost if Lyra was a fly on the wall, privy to all the information surrounding her.
"I wish to see her, my Lord. Please, I have done all you have asked for," a pleading voice came from the candlelight.
"That is true, Bella. You have indeed been a loyal servant to me. But I cannot allow you to leave my side. If you are caught..."
Bella broke off her master. "I will not get caught."
"I cannot risk it. You have the right people looking out for her. You are still receiving weekly owls from Lucius and Severus, are you not?"
Bella nodded slowly. "She is my daughter. Letters are not enough. It's been nearly fourteen years."
"Then you can wait a little while longer, Bella. You will be reunited with your precious Lyra in due time. I will assure you it will be most bittersweet."
"I cannot wait a little while longer, my Lord. Please, I am pleading you."
Lord Voldemort let out a quiet chuckle. "Do I need to show you what true pleading is, Bella? Do not think you are immune from my wrath. I would curse you as I have Wormtail."
"No, my Lord, it is unnecessary."
"Good. You will remain here until our next plan is executed. Understood?"
"It is, my Lord."
"Just wait, my dear Bella. You have done well so far. I promise your wait will be worth it."
When Lyra awoke, her heart was racing. Was it true? Bellatrix Lestrange was her mother? Her name had been uttered about the Malfoy house as if it were a curse. And at Hogwarts... the conversation Lyra overheard between Lucius and Snape... Lyra's conversation with Neville...
Was she really going to be reunited with her mother? Time had allowed Lyra the leisure of forgetting her parents. Any patriarchal bonds had been broken long ago. Yet, Lyra pained for the warm embrace she might receive from her parents.
The creak from Lyra's door caused her attention to shift to the house-elf that was now entering her room. An odd looking creature, this particular house-elf was much different that the ones Lyra had seen in the Hogwarts kitchens. It's short ears and larger stature made Lyra think it wasn't a house-elf, but it's distinctly high voice and servant submission confirmed to Lyra it truly was a house-elf.
"Mrs. Malfoy wants Miss Malfoy to know it is time for breakfast," the house-elf said at last.
"Yes, yes of course. I will be down momentarily," Lyra replied. She shielded her eyes as the curtains were opened in her room to reveal a spectacular view of green fields.
The house-elf left Lyra in silence once again. She put on a robe and went downstairs to the dining room, where Lucius and Narcissa were already seated. Lucius was reading The Daily Prophet and Narcissa was reading Witch! Magazine.
In all of their vainness, Lyra wondered if it ever occurred to them that she had a mother, and a father, too, but he was too far into madness he would never come out. As they sat here, drinking their tea and eating their biscuits, Lyra was mentally tortured with the prospect that her mother was out there, somewhere, and unable to see her only child.
"Lyra, I'm going into London today. Would you care to join me? I need to pick up a few items before Draco is released from St. Mungo's," Narcissa said nonchalantly. Her eyes didn't move from the magazine.
"Absolutely. Yes, please," Lyra responded. Lucius's eyebrow went up just a twitch.
"Do you really think it is wise for her to go into town with you, darling?" Lucius asked. He folded up his newspaper and set it next to his steaming cup of tea. His hands clenched his ceramic saucer a bit too tightly as he took a delicate sip of the amber liquid.
"Of course it is. Why would it not be?" Narcissa now looked her husband in the eye.
"After last night's event on the train..." Lucius's voice trailed off.
"They weren't after me, Lucius. They were after Harry Potter." Lyra couldn't help but have a hint of hate in her voice. "Besides, I would like to pick up something for Draco before he comes out of St. Mungo's."
"Very well, then. Narcissa, we're picking up Draco at four today. I'll meet you at St. Mungo's, then?" Lucius said.
"Yes, darling, we will meet you there."
Several hours later, Lyra and Narcissa were on their way to what Lyra thought was London . However, as Lyra was about to Side-Apparate next to her aunt, Narcissa announced they would not be going to London as planned. Instead, Lyra and Narcissa found themselves standing in front of a well-worn down house. The mailbox read '103 Benton Place '. Wherever this " Benton Place " Lyra was at, it seemed very foreign to her. The iron fence showed signs of early rust, and the gate was holding on by only one hinge. The house itself was in worse shape than the fence. Despite the large amount of newly fallen snow, the garden and lawn were overgrown by large weeds.
"Aunt Narcissa... I thought..." Lyra began.
"My dear Lyra... I'm afraid I must be honest with you. You are not related to Lucius's side of the family," Narcissa said slowly.
Lyra laughed. "I was wondering when you would tell me that. I know."
Narcissa looked taken aback by Lyra's bluntness. Lyra forged ahead, pushing open the broken gate and standing in front of the rotting wooden door. With a little nudging, the door opened and inside Lyra found what was once a pristine and prime house. Expensive looking furniture was now covered in white sheets, oak tables were now covered in several inches of dust.
"This is the house of my parents. Cygnus and Druella Black. Your mother and I grew up here, along with our other sister." Her voice rested on a hint of bitterness. Narcissa gazed around the room in remembrance. "The house elves have all died, and I never bothered employing more to look after the house. It's not exactly Malfoy Manor, but it is home."
Her mind wandered back to the days when the she and her sisters were all very young- before they were at Hogwarts. They would run rampant around the backyard for hours, pretending to be saved from trolls and ogres. Although not confirmed, Narcissa always had a sinking feeling her father had been a follower of Grindelwald. He had late night meetings in this very room, ones Narcissa and her sisters would sneak out of bed to witness.
With a flick of her wand, the fireplace began to roar and crackle as a warmness began to flood the room. Another swish and the white sheets covering the furniture was gone, leaving magnificent pieces of soft velvet left in the room.
"Oh dear, Lucius is just going to kill me if he finds out I'm telling you this," Narcissa began, taking a seat on the black velvet chair next to the fireplace. Lyra sat on the bear-skin rug in front of the fireplace, warming her hands.
"I should tell you something. I had... a dream last night," Lyra began, looking down.
"What sort of a dream?" Narcissa asked.
Lyra hesitated. She sighed. "It wasn't really a dream, I guess, it was like... I was there, you know?"
"No, I really don't."
"My mother... I know who she is. Bellatrix Lestrange. She tortured Neville's parents into madness. She broke out of Azkaban. The dream I had... she wanted to come see me. Voldemort wouldn't let her, he said she still has one more mission to do before she is rewarded."
Narcissa sat in a state of shock. Her eyes glazed over as she realized the implications of this knowledge. It would only be a matter of time before Bellatrix came back into her life. Narcissa hadn't seen Bella since she was put in Azkaban. If Bella found out Lucius had sent her daughter away, her wrath would be unimaginable.
Lyra reminded Narcissa of Bella in every way imaginable except for one. Both women were incredibly strong and talented dark witches, except Bella had a temper that was not to be reckoned with. Lyra was docile much like Rudolphus was in his early years. However, Narcissa did not doubt the idea that Lyra could be just as dangerous as her mother.
"Your full name is Lyra Druella Lestrange. You were born in Bristol to Rudolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange. After your parents were sent to Azkaban for the torture of the Longbottoms, you were sent to live with Lucius and I. Lucius didn't want remnants of his Death Eater life living with us, so he sent you away," Narcissa explained. "I had no idea what happened to you until Igor contacted us after the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He said you were at Durmstrang."
"I think I would much rather be there than here," Lyra said instantly. She stood up. "I want to leave."
"Lyra please! I must explain!" Narcissa said.
"There is no need to explain, Narcissa. I think I understand completely," Lyra growled. She got up and walked to the door, only to have it magically shut and locked. Taking out her wand, Lyra attempted to open it with no success.
"Open this door, Narcissa. I don't want to curse you," Lyra warned, turning around.
Narcissa laughed. "I highly doubt that. You may be like your mother, but you are still 16 and highly uneducated. Now sit down!"
Doing as she was told, Lyra took a seat on the cream colored couch and set her wand down on the cushion next to her. She stared at Narcissa.
"I am not surprised you saw what you did," Narcissa commented, pacing the room. She picked up an old photo of herself and smiled. "The bond between you and your mother was always quite strong. She was so proud to have you."
"Funny, I was always under the impression pureblood families wanted to have sons," Lyra replied dryly.
"I have no doubt your parents would have had more children had they not been captured. Circumstances place us in our positions, Lyra. You are no more than a player in the hands of fate."
A player. A pawn. All Lyra had become was an object able to be moved at the will of others. She never had the tight control she thought she did.
"What you saw may or may not have been real, but the fact is, you know who your mother is. I was hoping to give you the news personally, but unfortunately it is a bit too late for that," Narcissa said.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Lyra asked quietly. Her gaze turned to the photographs on the mantle. She got up, slowly, and drifted towards the photographs. Lucius and Narcissa on their wedding day. Draco as a baby. Then, Lyra's parents, together, smiling, happy.
"It's quite a complicated situation, as you can tell. I didn't mean for it to be an insult to your intelligence. For one, I do not think very many parents at Hogwarts would want the daughter of a convicted Death Eater to be running around the school. It would cause too many problems for all involved."
Narcissa hesitated. "And secondly, oh Lyra, you must forgive me for telling you this. You see, it was the Dark Lord's doing. He needs Bella. She is his most loyal servant. He was so angry when she had you... his plans must go according to how he wants them. He needs her, Lyra. He sees you as a distraction."
"I am a distraction?" Lyra said in disbelief. Hiding her intense anger, she put down the picture of her parents and turned towards her aunt. The look on Narcissa's face was a mix between smugness and sadness.
"He is the Dark Lord, Lyra. You have never met him-"
"Oh please!" Lyra spat. "I went to Durmstrang for five years. I studied under Igor Karkaroff. He may have been a traitor but I am no stranger to Lord Voldemort. I know his followers and their children. I know his curses, I know the creatures he employs in his power. It's all about domination for him, isn't it?"
"You must not question him, Lyra. Surely you must have learned that," Narcissa asked. "He is dangerous. I have lost those I love to him. Lucius, your mother, even Draco! He gets what he wants. Your mother is his servant. He needs her to do his bidding. I can't explain it any clearer than that."
"I just don't get what type of person would willingly separate a child from her mother," Lyra said.
"Come with me. I want to show you something," Narcissa said, hastily changing the subject. Leaving her wand on the couch, Lyra followed Narcissa up the stairs by the door. The stairs took them to the long hallway on the second floor. It was still quite dark despite Narcissa turning on the lights. There were three doors on the left, and two on the right. Narcissa went to the end of the hallway and opened the last door on the right.
Lyra entered a generous sized room, laced in gold and green.
"This was your mother's room," Narcissa commented. "This house has been abandoned since my parents died over a decade ago. They left it in my possession, seeing as your mother was in Azkaban and Andromeda had been shunned from the family. I rarely have a chance to visit it. I'll leave you here alone."
Narcissa left and quietly shut the door behind her. All that was left was a quiet room and Lyra Druella Lestrange. Lyra looked around the room and chuckled. It wasn't the most pristine room. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It wasn't a mess, it was rather organized chaos. Lyra first went to the wardrobe in the corner. It was tall and black, and Lyra hesistated before she opened it. She was now about to delve into the world of Bellatrix Lestrange, psychotic Death Eater and mother.
The wardrobe contained nothing but old Hogwarts robes that went out of style years ago. To the ordinary witch or wizard it was nothing exciting, but Lyra finally felt a connection to the woman supposedly to be her mother. She was finally materializing through the clothes she wore, rather than the object the verbs and adjectives that described her.
Moving away from the wardrobe, Lyra found a black wooden trunk sitting at the base of her mother's four poster bed. She carefully opened the faded brass clutch that held the top and bottom pieces together. The trunk opened with a loud creak, causing Lyra to jump back. Without allowing her heart to calm down, Lyra went back to the trunk and peered down. It was a jumble of spell books and old quills that Lyra thought could have easily been her own.
Putting aside the faded and old spellbooks, a flash of gold caught Lyra's eye. She bent down further, and pulled out a black leather diary laced with gold tipped pages. Lyra heard footsteps coming back to the room and she quickly put the diary in her robes. Shutting the trunk, she stood up just as the door opened.
"Come, we must go to London now," Narcissa said quietly.
Lyra nodded and followed the mass of blonde down the stairs. It was evident Narcissa had been using several cleaning charms to get rid of the dust and dirt the house had built over the years. It was now in the glory it had held once ago, except now the hustle and bustle of the busy house had been replaced with the quiet winter solitude.
"Wait, Narcissa," Lyra said. "Would you mind-?" Lyra's gaze turned to the photo of her parents on the fireplace mantle.
"Take it, it is yours," Narcissa said. Quickly, Lyra ran across the room and grabbed the picture. She tucked it in her robes in the same place as the diary, and the two witches headed back out into the cold.
"Do not repeat this to Lucius. He would be furious," Narcissa repeated. "Take my arm."
Soon enough, the house at 103 Benton Place had disappeared. All that was left was a photograph, a diary, and a memory of what once had been.