Hmmm, I forgot to add a disclaimer at the beginning of my story again...so I will do so here:

I don't own anything Harry Potterish! Except Lyra. She's mine :D
Yea, small disclaimer, I know. I wanted to write something grand, but this is much more simple.

So Lyra has been Sorted...the cat (or maybe the snake?) is out of the bag now! What will happen? How will the others react? More importantly, how will her parents react? And how does Draco break her heart? Read on for more!

Draco hurried down the hallway, stopping in front of a door. His sister had gotten a private room, not a cubicle, probably because of her friendship with Harry Potter or the fact that so many people hung around, keeping vigil. Pausing to catch his breath, Draco realised he was a few minutes early. In the old days, he would've just barged in and ordered everyone out, but not now. He had changed from who he had been in first year. Instead, he raised a hand and knocked before opening the door.

"Can I come in?"

Too late Draco realised who was scheduled to be with Lyra at this time. Great. Weasley and Granger. Fate really has it in for me. Draco braced himself for a curse, or an insult. To his surprise, neither came. Instead, both girls, one on either side of the bed, nodded mutely. "Pull up a chair, Malfoy," said Ginny quietly, gesturing at the spare seat next to Granger.

Once Draco would've turned up his nose at a seat next to a Muggle. Today he sat quietly next to her. It seemed that she had chosen to tolerate him, for she shot him a polite smile.

In reply to her smile, he asked, "How is she?"

Hermione's smile faded somewhat, her gaze becoming remote as she looked back at the unconscious girl. "No change." The words were so soft that Draco had to lean closer to catch them. Hermione's eyes flickered as if she was struggling against her pain. Draco had a sudden urge to put his arms around her and let her cry into his shoulder. Huh. I must be more like Lyra than I thought.

To push away the urge, Draco pulled out Lyra's diary. He'd been intending to read it here. Hermione made a sound, and he realised that she had recognised the object in his hands. He looked up at her, his face carefully neutral. "Are you okay?" The words were polite.

Hermione jumped, surprised, looking up from the book in his lap. Brown eyes met grey. In the silver orbs Hermione saw nothing, only a polite worry, as she watched, she thought she sensed a flicker of true concern pass through them. Impossible. He's a Malfoy, she thought to herself. So is Lyra, responded another part of her, but she shoved it away.

"Yes," she managed, "I'm fine. Come on Gin," she added, looking at the red-head. "It's Draco's hour anyway."

Quickly she stood up. Ginny's gaze swept from Draco to Hermione. She had an odd look on her face. As she studied the blond boy, her face held no hatred, but instead, curiosity. Then she got up and followed one of her best friends out of the room.

Alone at last, Draco allowed himself to relax, and opened the book again.

Tuesday 2nd September 1980

I was woken by the Granger girl, of all people. "Breakfast is soon," she said to me.

I studied her curiously. "You're a Muggle, aren't you?" I found myself asking, then mentally cringed. At least all the other girls had left.

Granger tensed. "Yes," she replied slowly. "Why?"

I threw back my covers. "Because you have no idea who I am. You should stay out of my way."

"Is that a threat?" asked the other girl. I saw a hint of fire in brown eyes, fire for which she'd been placed in Gryffindor, no doubt.

"No!" I protested. "It's the truth!"

When she scoffed, I sighed wearily. "I'm a Malfoy."

"So?" she replied, raising a brow.

"So? My family is only one of those snobby, pure-blood-is-the-best, Muggle-borns-shouldn't-be-at-Hogwarts, families. For your own sake you'd better keep away. I'm a lethal accident waiting to happen in Gryffindor."

Granger snorted. "I don't believe that," she replied in a bossy way.

I blinked up at her. "The others will kill you," I protested. "You'll be an outcast."

Granger pulled on her shoes. "If you're all those things, then why are you in Gryffindor?" she asked reasonably "And you seemed nice enough last night, and now. Why aren't you cursing me?"

I was stopped cold as I considered her words. "Because it's not nice," I replied. "You're at Hogwarts. That means that you have a right to be here."

"Exactly," said the girl, still bossy. "Get dressed. The others snuck out so they wouldn't wake you. I think they wanted you to miss breakfast…and probably every other class of the day."

I scrambled out of bed, searching frantically for my school robes, which I pulled on hurriedly. "See you," I heard the girl say. "By the way, I'm Hermione."

I looked up from tying my laces, hesitating, then decided what the hell, my life is screwed enough. "I'm Lyra."

"Nice to meet you," replied Hermione with a smile. To my surprise I felt an answering smile bloom on my lips.

Then Hermione left for breakfast. I decided to stay for a few minutes and write up this odd encounter in my diary before I left. After all, I was already late, what was a few more minutes?

Draco was silent as he lifted his head. Carefully he placed the book down, taking a moment or two to breathe and think. He'd always wondered how his sister and Granger had met, and now he knew.

Thoughts done, he picked the diary up, mentally preparing himself for another entry into Lyra's memories.

Tuesday 2nd September 1991

This is how my first day went, though I'm mostly going to write about my meeting with Professor Dumbledore. My actual first day was okay, save for the dirty glances and whispers following me everywhere. Surprisingly enough, everybody had done it so much that I was already used to it.

When I arrived outside the Great Hall I realised I wasn't really that late. A few stragglers were still hurrying in. I did the same, then found a seat by Hermione, the only Gryffindor who seemed to have accepted me. The others seemed astonished that I would sit next to a Muggle.

Another thing. Draco, Mother, and Father always said Mudblood, meaning dirty blood, more than Muggle but I hardly ever did. I personally thought it was silly. After all, Muggle blood wasn't even muddy-it was as red as mine. Dirty blood indeed! I was pretty sure that their blood was as clean as ours! So, to avoid using the word, I often called them Muggles, and, in front of my family, I referred to Muggles as "them". It seemed easy enough anyway, and nobody had anything against it.

After breakfast (which was as huge as last night's dinner, I'm not going to even bother trying to describe it), I headed out of the Great Hall, eager to catch the Headmaster, and bumped into Draco who was doing the same.

"Come on," he said, "let's sort this all out. It's insane!"

I followed him reluctantly. Professor McGonagall's words still burned in my brain: "The Sorting Hat is never wrong." At that very moment I realised that I was only interested in getting to my first class on time.

Draco practically ran up to the Headmaster's office, me trailing behind. He skidded to a stop in front of two gargoyles. "We want to see the Headmaster," he announced, as if he was the Minister of Magic. "Let us in!" It would've sounded really impressive if he wasn't panting from the run.

"Password," replied the gargoyle.

"What?" demanded Draco. "Do you know who I am? Let us in!"

"If you don't know the password, boy, you can't go in," the other gargoyle croaked.

When I caught up to my brother-who was on the verge of a tantrum (sometimes I think he's a spoiled brat)-I pushed him aside calmly.

"Excuse me," I said politely, "but my brother and I are looking for Professor Dumbledore. Is he here, and may we come in to see him?"

The two gargoyles exchanged glances. "You look exactly alike, but you're polar opposites," remarked the one who had spoken first.

"Much more polite than your brother," agreed the second.

I moved in front of Draco, who was beginning to sputter. "May we please see Professor Dumbledore?" I repeated politely.

"I'm sorry, dear," replied the first gargoyle. "We can't let you in if you don't have the password."

I sighed. "Thanks anyway."

"They were so rude!" fumed Draco once we had begun walking away.

I scowled at him. "No, Drake, you were rude. They're alive, and they had every right to refuse us entry after how you behaved. You're not a king. Here you're just a first year."

"You're wrong," snapped Draco.

Sometimes my brother is like the arrogant spoiled prince of a rich king, always getting what he wants without effort. One day he'll have to walk the walk, and I hope I'm there to see it.

Our argument was interrupted by Dumbledore himself, who came around the corner. "Ah, Mr and Miss Malfoy, I had a feeling you would visit."

"Professor," Draco began, not even bothering to be polite, "you have to put Lyra in Slytherin. She's a Malfoy!"

"I'm afraid that the Sorting Hat has the final word," replied the Headmaster. "For better or worse, Miss Malfoy is in Gryffindor House now."

"This isn't some stupid Mudblood marriage!" my brother snapped. I flinched at the word. Even now I can't believe that he spoke to the Headmaster like this! "This is a serious matter!"

"I don't think your sister finds it as serious," replied the Headmaster mildly. "Perhaps we should ask her. Miss Malfoy?"

I jumped at the name, looking up into his eyes. They twinkled kindly over his gold, half-moon spectacles. "Do you think this is an error that should be rectified?"

"I don't think you can change it," I admitted. "And Professor McGonagall said that the Sorting Hat is always right, so it can't be an error."

"You think what?" Draco yelled.

I whipped around to face him. "Does it matter, Drake?" I demanded. "Besides, I saw Professor McGonagall this morning, and she said pretty much the same thing."

"Of course it matters!" Draco cried. "Every Malfoy has been a Slytherin!"

"I don't think she takes after her father," remarked Professor Dumbledore almost dreamily. When the two of looked at him, he added, "more her mother's side of the family." He studied us. "Professor McGonagall is right, however. I cannot go against the Sorting Hat. You are a Gryffindor now. Now, you two had better be off to class, otherwise you'll be late."

Draco waited until he was out of earshot before speaking again. "I can't believe this," he burst out. "Wait 'til Father finds out what they're doing!"

"Give it a rest, Draco," I replied. "Let's just get to class, alright?"

Draco didn't stop talking about it all day. I had a headache by the time I returned to the Gryffindor Common Room at the end of my first official day as a Hogwarts student. I headed to the dorm, deciding to go to bed while everyone else was still up to avoid the other girls. Arriving at my dorm, I received a very nasty surprise. My trunk had been upended, my belongings thrown all over the floor, while someone had written on my bed in ink, Malfoys not allowed! Go home! As I stared at the mess, I felt rather than saw at least two girls come up behind me, chatting about their first day. They fell silent on seeing the mess. I turned to look at them. One of the girls was staring at the room, her lips moving silently as she read the message on my duvet. The other girl turned and ran downstairs, returning with the Gryffindor prefect. She stared at the place for a moment, then began rattling off instructions. Girls sprang into action, helping to collect my things put away in my trunk, while the prefect worked with some older girls to get rid of the stains in my sheets. Luckily, it was only ink, so it came out after a few good spells. Afterwards some of the others helped me make sure that all my belongings were still here. Thankfully, they were. Whoever had done it was more interested in leaving a message. Taking and hiding possessions around school probably required too much effort on their behalf.

After clearing up, the Gryffindor prefect-whose name was Aurora Tomas-went through all the girls, questioning them thoroughly, but nobody said anything. I expected as much. I was surprised that the boys weren't question until Hermione explained it to me.

"Boys can't get into the girl's dormitories, but we can get into theirs," she told me when I asked her. "Apparently boys are considered less trustworthy, so they're not allowed in."

So it had to be a girl. Or a group of girls. It didn't matter to me. Along with Hermione, I looked up some spells in the library that would hopefully prevent any repeat incidents. Then, with Aurora's permission and supervision, we cast them on my belongings and the bed. I was surprised that she would let first years do something that she would probably have a better handle of, until I saw Hermione's spell casting. I swear you wouldn't have been able to tell she was a Muggle, and by now I didn't care. Hermione was my first true friend at Hogwarts, probably my only friend I would ever have, and I cherished every second of our friendship. Besides, I never really understood why pure-bloods were better. Considering You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters, Muggles seemed pretty alright to me. Pure-blood mania was just that, a topic for crazy people-like my Aunt Bellatrix, who's currently in Azkaban. And the Slytherins think I'm the one with bad blood in the family!

Oh well. I think they're all crazy. I realise now, that the Gryffindor students have more or less accepted me…if accepted means I've become part of the furniture. They've started to realise that I'm ere to stay, for better or worse. I guess I wasn't that much of a novelty after all, and I can only be glad for that!

Draco winced as he finished the entry. He had acted like a spoiled brat that day. "Well, that was me," he muttered, "the Slytherin Prince." He gave a sudden bitter laugh. He'd thought he was royalty, but it had been an empty sort of kingship, where he'd ruled using fear, and his subjects had jumped ship, realising his ship was sinking even before he'd realised he'd been hit. The only person that had stayed sort of loyal to him had been- "Lyra," he muttered. She never gave up on me. She always held on. And this is where loving me gets her. Another sob rose in his throat, but he forced it down violently. Quickly, he dropped his head to the page, skimming through again.

Sunday 7th September 1991

Mother and Father came today. I can't believe this, but Draco actually wrote to Mother and Father and told them what had happened. I think they went to speak to Headmaster Dumbledore first. By the moods they both were in when they found me, it hadn't gone down well. They stood outside the Fat Lady's portrait until one of the students finally told me they were there.

I went outside to meet them. Draco stood behind them, a little way off.

"Pack your things," ordered Mother by way of a greeting. "You're leaving."

I said the first thing that came to mind. "What?"

"You heard your mother," said Father through gritted teeth. "You're moving schools. I always thought Beauxbatons Academy of Magic was a far better school for a mind like yours."

I scrambled for an answer. Over the week that I'd been here, I'd settled in. while some students may still not like me, they'd all come to tolerate me. Some of them were even being polite. I realised that I liked it here.

"Well?" demanded Father when I still hadn't move. "Go! Pack!"

I took a breath. "No." My voice was soft.

"Get your things and be quick about-what?" Mother said, finally realising what I'd said.

I met my mother's gaze. "Sirius Black."

There was a stunned silence. "What did you say?" whispered my mother.

"Sirius Black," I repeated, my head held high. "Your first cousin, and therefore, my first cousin once removed. He was from the Black family, of which every descendant had been placed in Slytherin-except him. I did my research." I took another deep breath. "The Sorting Hat told me I was more like my cousin. I am. I want to stay."

Father was the first to respond. "You dare," he hissed, taking a step towards me, grabbing my arm in a grip that hurt. I gasped in pain.

"Sir? Please let go of Lyra."

My father looked up, startled. Percy stood there. "You're not allowed to manhandle the students like that, Mr Malfoy. Dumbledore would not be happy."

"I'll treat my daughter any way I like, thank you," hissed Father.

"Well," said Percy, "in that case, I feel sorry for her."

Father looked like he'd been punched in the face. Actually, the three of them looked dumbfounded. I was shocked too. A Weasley, standing up to one of us, for one of us? If it wasn't so serious I would've laughed at the absurdity of it all. Instead I took the opportunity to pull my arm back and duck behind Percy, trembling. Even as I write this my arm still throbs. Father really had been angry.

"Get out of the way!" snapped Father.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that," replied Percy politely. "Lyra Malfoy was Sorted into Gryffindor. As such, she, like all the other Gryffindor students, are under my protection."

"And mine," added a calm voice.

My family turned. Professor McGonagall had arrived. The witch studied them calmly. "I'm afraid that your daughter has made her choice. Unfortunately, as none of you are from this House, you wouldn't be able to enter. Neither am I going to authorise your entry, not if you're going to treat your daughter like that. Really, she is another human being." She turned to Percy. "Thank you, Percy, I'll take it from here."

Percy took that as a cue to take my arm (the one that wasn't hurting) and lead me away, letting the portrait close behind us.

I don't know what happened after that, but from the muffled shouting I can pretty much figure it out. Instead of feeling upset, however, I feel happy. I realise now that I've never felt like I've truly belonged in my family. They were too crazy about their blood while I couldn't have cared less. Still, I want to know more about Sirius Black, the only Black to have ever been Sorted into Gryffindor. I want to know who he was, what he did in school, if he was on the Quidditch team. I want to meet him in real life, ask him he had survived in Hogwarts after his Sorting.

Too bad he's in Azkaban too.
Yes, that's right, my dear cousin Sirius Black is in Azkaban…for the betrayal that led to the murder of James and Lily Potter. And I'm friends with their son's friend.

My life is so screwed up.

Draco stopped. He remembered that day too. He winced as it all came back. After Lyra's choices, and both the prefect Weasley and McGonagall defending her, Mother and Father had gone home in a fury. They'd returned later with everything his sister owned, and dumped it on the doorstep of the castle, then left again. Draco hadn't interfered, but had instead watched from the shadows as some of Lyra's newfound friends had helped Lyra carry it upstairs. Apparently Professor Dumbledore had found a spare place to put it. Draco never knew where, but it was probably a spare classroom, or maybe the Headmaster had put an Undetectable Extension Charm on a box or something. But it was what he'd done, when she was alone, that had probably shattered her heart.

I wait until the last student was gone, then stalk out of my hiding place to confront you. You were still watching the last person carry something up the stairs, your lips trembling slightly.

Finally I speak. "It didn't have to be this way."

My intention to frighten you worked. You jump so high, I thought you'd never come down. "Drake."

I manage to keep my face cold and hard despite your use of my childhood name. "My name is not Drake. It's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

I watch as an anguished look crosses your face. "Please-" you stretch out a hand, on the verge of tears.

I do what my parents told me to. I reach forward, seeing your eyes leap in hope. But I completely, utterly crush it.

Instead of taking your hand, I unclasp the silver bracelet around your wrist. It was a gift, passed along the Malfoy line, down the female side of the family. A slender, ancient, silver charm bracelet, with tiny silver charms that has been added, one for each Malfoy woman that has possessed it. One of them is a snake crafted in a S. Another is a delicate lyre, your namesake. I remove the lyre charm and drop it into your outstretched palm. "Goodbye, Lyra."

"Drake!" Your choked cry rises behind me like an exotic bird call. For a moment I'm torn between my parents and my twin. Then the moment passes and I continue on, saying something over my shoulder. "Not a Slytherin, not a Malfoy." I don't even bother to look back.

Draco shuddered as nausea passed through him again. He'd broken his twin's heart that day. He'd turned his back on her, and labelled her as just another stranger. Just another blood traitor student that roamed the castle. Just another name to be added to the list of his victims. "I'm sorry," he whispered, knowing she couldn't hear him. Knowing the moment was long gone. Knowing it was too late.

I'm not actually sure if Harry and Hermione were friends yet, as this is set before the three are attacked by the troll (or they go after the troll, you pick).
I don't actually know the name of the female Gryffindor Prefect, so I made that up xD

For the scene in which her room gets trashed I actually took this from First Test by Tamora Pierce (Protector of the Small Quartet. If you haven't read it, do so, it's brilliant).

Please review! Thanks guys!

~ MagicalLeaves