Lyla didn't really remember the rest of the fight. Yes, she remembered glimpses of Harry running after Bellatrix, and Dumbledore going after him. But…it was more of a haze…
A haze made up of her own guilt.
She lay awake in the hospital wing, her eyes glued to the ceiling above. She felt like she was drowning.
"Lyla…" Hermione said, her voice very small.
For some reason, she didn't want to hear what Hermione said next.
"Did you…did you know about…Sirius?"
Ah, that was the reason.
"Yes…" Lyla said, right now, she didn't want to be here.
"Oh…"
She knew the others were listening in, except Harry, who wasn't here. He was at Dumbledore's office, soaking in his own sorrows.
"I'm okay with it, you know."
"Sorry?" Hermione said, confused as to Lyla's words.
Lyla tuned over in her white, pure bed facing the others who were all already sitting up. They were all cut up, with bruises and scars; Ginny with her, almost fixed, ankle, Ron still having long winding scars across his body where the brain, tentacle organism had attacked him. They were all worse for wear.
"Okay if you get angry with me. I would be to." Lyla said.
"We're not angry with you…" Hermione said. "Harry…might be for a while, but he'll understand, eventually. Dumbledore told us a bit more about how the dreams work. We know you can never change what you see…"
"I can only imagine what it might be like," Luna said, out of the blue, "but I can say I would be pretty guilty. Seeing people everyday and knowing how their fates play out…it would feel like I was being eaten from the inside."
It was funny, Lyla thought, how precise the girl could be.
Lyla stepped into the headmasters office.
She remembered being here before, so long ago, looking in fascination at the objects and instruments around her. Back then, she had been more innocent and carefree, beginning to learn about the world.
Now…it wasn't the same.
"Ah, Lyla." Dumbledore's smiling kind face appeared at the top of the stairs. "I see Madame Pomfrey had patched you up nicely."
"I wasn't that badly hurt." Lyla murmured.
"You always think to lowly of yourself…" his smile becomes sad, as he walked down the staircase.
"Sir…" Lyla said quietly.
"Yes?"
"In the Department of Mysterious…there this room I come across…it was strange, since I felt like my head had lost of voice inside it…" Lyla said slowly, she could still feel them now.
Dumbledore looked at her, over his half-moon spectacles. "You saw a phoenix, didn't you?"
Lyla nodded.
"There are many rooms in the Department of Mysterious, some we may never know the true meaning of them. Do not dwell on these rooms, some are never meant to be solved."
Lyla could feel there something else he wished to say. Something he was keeping from her. It took all her strength to not talk back.
"Now, I suppose you are wondering why I called you to my office?"
Lyla didn't answer, only nodding slightly.
Dumbledore flicked his wand only for a cabinet to open up, revealing a basin, with silver, milky liquid swirling around.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked her.
"It's a pensieve."
"Correct." Dumbledore said, striding over to the instrument, beckoning her over. "You must understand I am showing you this because resent events have…told me this is the right time."
Lyla wrinkled her nose at his answer, knowing it wasn't a real answer, but accepting it anyway.
"Now…if you would?" Dumbledore said.
Lyla looked down into the liquid, before plunging in.
The sensation was like being pulled at various angles at the same time, feeling yourself stretch to, almost, the brink of pain.
Opening her eyes, Lyla could see she was back in the headmaster's office, the only difference being the room seemed to require less objects and more space. A younger, less white, Dumbledore sat at his desk, scribbling down on parchment.
Lyla felt the presence of the older Dumbledore appear beside her.
"We will just watch." He said. "Remember we are in a memory, everything here has already happened."
Lyla nodded.
"Come in."
The younger Dumbledore spoke the words softly and yet they still held loudness to them.
The door opened shyly, revealing a young girl, no older than twelve.
"Sorry to bother you, headmaster." She said, hurriedly.
The younger Dumbledore smiled. "That is quite alright, please do sit down." He gestured to the empty chair in front of his desk.
Lyla's eyes tracked the girl watching the girl. For the girl's, silky blonde hair, flowed gently behind her, her physic not tall, but not short. Lyla could only stare into the girl's sky blue eyes. She recognised the girl…oh, didn't she.
"What seems to be troubling you, my dear?" Dumbledore asked kindly. "You seem…off lately."
The girl shifted in her seat uncomfortable.
"My dreams…" she whispered, her eyes darted to a corner of the room, before focusing back.
Dumbledore frowned. "What about your dreams?"
But the girl's eyes had glassed over, becoming misty, as if she was blind. Her mouth opened and yet, the small shy voice before had gone, replaced by a deeper, more unnatural voice.
"A child will be born…as the half moon rises, two nights before the Chosen One…Yet, after four summers go by, she'll be left abandoned to the fate of destiny…"
The whites of the girl's eyes gleamed back; a creepy sensation making it's way up Lyla's spine.
"A destiny…that has been laid years before…for the Dark Lord knows naught…only to what he suspects…For who is said to be what the Dark Lord fears the most…will take the child and send her in her destiny…For the child's true colours will be shown at the last battle between the Dark Lord and the Chosen One…The past will always be part of the future…"
The girl eyes went back to normal, and she suddenly jumped in surprise at the sight of the younger Dumbledore.
"Sir I-I" she began, looking confused.
The younger Dumbledore sent a cheery smile. "Do not worry, my dear. I believe you should be going back to your dormitory."
The girl nodded, before rushing out the Headmasters office.
She didn't see the particular grim expression on the younger Dumbledore's face.
"Who was that girl?" Lyla asked Dumbledore, both now retreated from the memory.
"I do not think I need to tell you." Dumbledore said, his eyes baring no twinkle.
"…She was my mother? Wasn't she?"
"A lass she was." Dumbledore said gravely. "And yet do not look at her in such a darkness, it was not her fault…she was, ah, lost to us."
"But it said I was abandoned. She purposely left me-"
Dumbledore held up his hand. "One day, you will talk to her and she will tell you the true reason. But please, you must remember that she is lost to us. She is in, ah, her own world."
"Please just tell me something, I can't just know nothing, haven't I been in the dark long enough? I need to breath! I need to be shed with light!"
"I cannot tell you." Dumbledore said, sternly. "You should know that by now. But I can tell you want other parts of the prophecy meant."
"Couldn't the prophecy mention why I was left? It would of saved so much time-"
"And yet that was not it's purpose." Dumbledore said.
That made Lyla stop and think. "Purpose?"
Dumbledore smiled, "Yes, I wonder if you could work it out?"
Lyla slowly said, "The prophecy was told to you…right?"
Dumbledore nodded, a gleam in his eye.
"So it was directed to you, it was meant for you…Was it…some kind of instructions?"
The Dumbledore smiled, it seemed to be able to cover his face, without doing so.
"Yes that is the reason. It was telling me that, in the future, a child would be left abandoned and I would after look after that child somehow…But I must admit that I did not decipher it straight away, it took me many years."
Lyla nodded understanding, before a sudden thought entered her brain. It just seemed to hang around, waiting for Lyla to say it.
"Aren't they calling Harry the chosen one?" she asked.
Dumbledore smiled, finding humour where Lyla didn't.
"I suspect they will, especially with this prophecy of his…"
"Will?" Lyla said, then gave it a little bit of thought. "Oh, they have yet to do it…I'm just-anyway if they will. Then that means I was born two nights before Harry."
"Apparently so," Dumbledore said.
"It also means that my true colours will be seen in last battle between him and Voldemort."
"Ah, but we don't know what these true colours are. They could be anything for all we know." Dumbledore said.
"But…I've seen that battle, I know its coming." Lyla said, distort.
"But do you know when?"
"No…"
"So until you know, it is best you try to think positive in the situation."
"That's very lousy advice."
"You could think so? You have no idea what a little bit of positive thought can bring to a situation." His eye, once again, twinkled.
"You know something…don't you? About what is happening and will happen?"
"I can only speculate, but yes I do believe I do." He said nodding.
"How long now?" Lyla asked. She always found herself asking.
"Only so much longer…I promise." Dumbledore said.
Lyla nodded heading towards the door, only for Dumbledore to speak again.
"Please, Lyla, remember what we have talked about and don't worry too much. Like I have said before: all will be shown." Dumbledore purposely looked at her, like a parent would with a child set to cause trouble.
"I understand." She answered.
And with that she left his office.
"Um…Lyla?"
Lyla turned round, only to meet a very red in the face Neville. She was just about to exit the doors, back to the forest. She was also expecting an encounter with Harry, but she had a feeling Hermione was preventing him from seeing her.
"Yes? What is it Neville?"
Neville twiddled his thumbs nervously, looking down at the floor, his eyes darting.
He was acting…so strange.
"…When will we see you again?" he said, eventually.
Lyla knew there was another meaning to his words, yet, couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"I expect so." She said. "Why do you ask?"
His face reached a new level of redness, becoming a tomato.
"Just wanted to know…" he said, rather awkwardly.
"I'll see you then." Lyla said, the awkwardness hanging over them.
"Yeah…see ya."
With one last look at Neville, she walked out the doors.
There was definitely something strange with that boy
Told you it will be quick.
Do think Lyla and Neville should be together?
I don't really ask questions in author notes, but...I won't to know your opinion. So, yep, placing it a review.
Expect the next chapter sometime soon, but I do have this History essay to do, so it might be a bit longer.