Chapter 28

Nurture Over Nature

August began swiftly, with Lyra remaining in America to delve deeper into their discoveries. Meanwhile, Albus had returned to a host of inquisitive Order members, who had several questions about Lyra's sudden outburst. They were worried as to whether she would return. Predictably, Sarah was the one with the most inquiries, eager to know where her aunt had disappeared to and what business had sent her back to America. However, the unexpected one showing great concern was Severus, who had repeatedly inquired about Lyra. Albus discerned that the man had grown quite fond of her, and he couldn't deny a similar sentiment building within himself. Albus had harbored a soft spot for Lyra ever since her audacious entrance into the Great Hall. Now, with the knowledge he had gained about her, he realized that one of America's most formidable and gifted witches could also easily be among the most dangerous ones.

Albus continuously mulled over the revelations he had witnessed in the dungeons of Nurmengard and during his meeting with Tessra Jones. Lyra Marks, with her demeanor, behavior, intellect, style, and the darkness that clung to her, remained a constant preoccupation. Every minute of his thoughts centered on her and whether she was a safe addition to the Order.

She was undeniably a brilliant witch, but she could be highly volatile. Albus couldn't shake the nagging fear that if Gellert had once influenced her, he might have done it again. Gellert was, after all, a tremendously powerful dark wizard. He had adeptly manipulated the darkness within her in a single encounter previously. What if he had managed to do so again? What if Lyra's true nature wasn't as it appeared? But Albus knew, every human, no matter their magical or muggle, carried elements of light and dark within them; it was their actions that truly shaped their magic and potential. Every night, Albus arrived at the same conclusion.

If he wished to better understand the darkness that tainted Lyra Marks, he needed to unearth information about her birth parents. He had made a promise to her, in a moment of comfort, to uncover the truth about them. He wondered if the same doubts plagued her. What if her parents weren't good people? What if they were dark wizards, still immersed in the dark arts? The question that troubled Albus the most was whether Lyra would forsake her convictions for them. Or would nurture triumph over nature?

Albus wasn't one to make judgments based on blood. He had never taken issue with people or their lineage. In fact, he had transcended Gellert's manipulation and championed the rights of every individual, muggle and magical. He had opposed everything that Grindelwald had stood for, everything that Grindelwald had made him believe in.

"Albus? Are you ever going to sleep? This is the fourth night you've been awake since your return." Minerva called out, a note of concern in her voice.

Her words broke his concentration, and he glanced at her, offering a smile. Stepping closer, he embraced her, their lips meeting in a deep kiss, in the hope that his ruminations would disappear. But they persisted, clinging to his thoughts. Breaking the kiss, he gazed at the beautiful woman before him.

"I still have a few matters to attend to, Minerva." He replied. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Come to bed..." She demanded.

"I will, but in a little while."

"I won't be awake for much longer."

"Then I shall see you tomorrow, my love." He said, gently kissing her hands. She sighed and returned to the bedroom.

Albus exhaled deeply as he watched her depart. He wished he could confide in her completely, but the timing wasn't right. He hoped that Lyra would return with further information from the Caves, along with insights from the knowledgeable members of the 27, and, as she had mentioned, from some sources she trusted. Albus didn't press her; he knew that she associated with "all-kinds" of witches and wizards in her line of work.

The issue was that Albus had attempted to suppress thoughts about Lyra's origins. However, just as her curiosity drove her to seek answers, so did his. Their motivations may have differed, but Albus also wanted to know what kind of parents would abandon a six-year-old, erase her memories, and then withdraw from her life. Surely, they would have shared a bond with their child—how could they have let go of her so readily?

Yet, Albus had searched for these individuals tirelessly. He had scoured multiple sources, sifted through classified files, and engaged with various people from different regions. None of them possessed any information about a witch or wizard, pure-blooded, half-blooded, or Muggle-born, with the surname Marks. Some Muggle-born sources said that Marks was a common Muggle last name, but they were unaware of any magical individuals bearing the same name who were old enough to have a daughter in her thirties. Albus had even combed through several Muggle hospitals in England to locate any baby born on Lyra's birthday under the name Marks. Yet, he had reached the same conclusion as Tessra: perhaps Marks wasn't her actual surname, merely a fabrication by her parents to placate her.

Thus, Albus decided that it was time to play his final card. He had already dispatched Fawkes with a letter to his dear friends, Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel. Their knowledge of European bloodlines extended far and wide. Through their travels and research, the Flamels had gathered droplets of blood from numerous wizarding families. They could examine Lyra's blood and use Alchemy and their profound understanding of blood magic to determine her magical heritage, even if it was only partial. They would then trace it back to the magical family from which it came. Even if one parent possessed any magical blood, the Flamels' expertise would be able to uncover it.

As August drew to a close, Lyra returned to headquarters, but she wasn't alone. As she entered the kitchen, it was Sarah who first spotted the man accompanying her aunt. She nearly jumped out of her seat and enveloped him in a tight hug.

"DAD!" She half-screamed, her façade crumbling, revealing her deep affection for him. She'd always be a daddy's girl.

"Oh, Sarah!" Michelin exclaimed, burying his face in her hair. She seemed to have grown even taller since he had last seen her.

"What are you doing here?! And did you get me what you always get me?" She fired off her questions in rapid succession. Michelin chuckled and produced a box of chocolates from his briefcase, handing them to her.

"You're truly the best!"

"Your mother made sure I brought them along. It would be nice if you included your feelings in your scanty letters to us!" Michelin teased, and Sarah rolled her eyes before introducing him to the others.

Michelin shook hands with everyone in the kitchen, even profusely thanking Mrs. Weasley for taking such great care of his daughter and sister.

"Sir…" Zeus Shorthorn greeted Michelin, whose smile faded as he studied the young man carefully.

"Mr. Shorthorn..." Michelin replied with a huff. The boy smiled a little sheepishly. Michelin had intended to chastise him about Sarah, but a warning hiss from her made him pause and roll his eyes.

"Dad, please!"

Michelin pulled the boy's hand and shook it properly, nodding in acknowledgment. Zeus smiled gratefully, appreciating the gesture.

"And this is Zeus's brother, Aries." Sarah said, introducing Michelin to an older version of Zeus.

"I must apologize for my brother's abject stupidity, Mr. Lincolns. However, I am very glad he's got Sarah by his side. Call me selfish, but if your daughter did not love my idiot brother so much, I wouldn't be standing in front of you right now." Aries charmed. Michelin smiled at the suave man, who clearly possessed more charisma than his brother. They shook hands.

"Michelin?" Called Minerva, surprised to see her nephew. He turned to look at her.

"Hello, Aunt Minerva…my mother sends her regards." He said as he approached her. She placed a gentle hand on his face, and he smiled at her.

"It's been a few weeks since my last letter. I suppose this is her way of telling me she's upset about that." Minerva chuckled along with Michelin.

Dumbledore also entered the kitchen to greet Michelin. Michelin continued to have his fanboy moment as Dumbledore invited him for some tea.

The kitchen cleared out to give the two men some privacy. Michelin explained to Dumbledore how Tessra Jones had reached out to him, and he was now endeavoring to convince MACUSA to lend support and pressure their British counterparts to act wisely.

"Thank you! That's a valiant cause, Mr. Lincolns." Dumbledore said gratefully.

"Michelin. Sir, please, call me Michelin."

"And you don't need to thank me, sir. My daughter has volunteered to guide my family's path toward this...and somehow...I don't know how...but as always...Lyra seems to have been dragged into it. I will do anything to keep them safe, sir. Come hell or high water!" Michelin said, then reached into his pocket.

"I doubt you'd even remember this...but...I found this picture...in my parents' old house before we moved. I must have been a year or two, maybe, at the time." Michelin said.

He showed Albus a worn-out picture, and Albus looked at it. A rush of memories flooded back. They had taken this picture when Margery and Franklin had visited Mrs. McGonagall at McGonagall Manor. The picture showed him holding a baby Michelin, along with his parents and Minerva. That had been the day when the McGonagall sisters had met him officially, as Minerva's fiancé. Albus had known Margery from school; they had been in the same year. He remembered how easily and openly that family had accepted him. Minerva's mother had also treated him like a son. Until he had gone and broken her daughter's heart.

"I...remember that day...very well, actually." Albus said, handing the picture back to Michelin.

"When I found out I'd met you as a baby, I was floored! I asked my parents about you...Dad wanted to talk about it, but Mom said it was best not to repeat the past. Now, of course, I know why. Lyra told me everything...she usually tells me everything." Michelin said, smiling sadly. The notion of Dumbledore almost being his uncle was quite extraordinary to him.

"You were always my hero...it...it sounds childish...but I always looked up to you and your ideals..." Michelin smiled.

"My ideals...Michelin, I'm sad to say, aren't always what they seem. I've made many mistakes in my life as well."

"Everyone is human..."

"You're a very kind man..."

"I suppose one has to be...when you've got a volcanic sister like mine!" Michelin laughed.

"You and your sister share a rather strong bond." Albus began cautiously, and Michelin chuckled while picking up his tea cup.

"My sister..." He scoffed in amusement.

"You know, sir, ever since I was four years old, I kept pestering my parents to bring home a baby! I didn't care where they got one from. I had a friend, Arnold...Arnold...I can't recall his last name anymore. He had a younger sister, but he never treated her well...like most boys, he'd take her things away, make her cry, decapitate her dolls. I hated him for that. I swore that if I ever got a sibling, I'd treat them right. I'd love them to death and give them everything I had. I was nine when they brought Lyra home. I remember sitting in the study when my mom and Aunt Athena came home carrying this small six-year-old who was asleep in my mother's arms. I wondered who she was and where she'd come from. All my parents said was that from today, she was going to live with us, that she was going to be the sister I'd always wanted. I was ecstatic! But they made me promise never to tell her that she wasn't really my sister. I did what I was told. I remember that day when she woke up, she began crying. I lied and told her I was her brother, and swore on my toy wand to always protect her." He said, smiling nostalgically.

"Most brothers...hated having their little sisters constantly chasing after them, but not mine...even though we aren't siblings by birth, Michelin always put my happiness before his." Lyra said, leaning on the doorframe and looking at her brother lovingly.

"I fell in love with that tiny girl, the minute...the minute they carried you into that house..." Michelin recalled nostalgically.

They shared a tender moment, smiling lovingly at each other, and it warmed Albus's heart to witness it.

"Your daughter is looking for you; she's sitting in the living room." Lyra informed Michelin, who sighed and nodded.

"Sorry, sir, but I hope we can continue our conversation another time! There's so much I want to ask you...but my sister seems to be keen on occupying your time." Michelin said. Lyra smiled shyly; he knew her tactics all too well.

Once he left, Lyra shut the door behind her and placed a silencing charm on it. She then took the seat Michelin had vacated.

"Did you uncover anything else?" Albus asked.

"No...nothing that Grindelwald hasn't told us already…"

"I have been thinking about it a lot though...we know Voldemort has killed many people in his lifetime...but which deaths did he use to create Horcruxes? I can't tell for sure...or how many Horcruxes were created apart from Harry?"

"For that, we would have to trace young Tom's story from the beginning." Albus stated.

"Also...there's his diary, which was crafted after young Myrtle's death, that Harry Potter managed to destroy in his second year...using a basilisk fang. I understand now it was one of the Horcruxes."

"So that's two...Harry and the diary...but...how many more?" Lyra questioned. He did not have an answer.

"There's something more, a vital piece of information I gathered...through one unexpected defector." Lyra said.

"Over the past few months, as Michelin tells me, he's been corresponding heavily with someone he met last year...the blonde man...Zeus Shorthorn's uncle."

"Lucius Malfoy?" Albus asked, shocked by this information.

"Yes. Apparently, the man is terrified for the safety of his family. He no longer wishes to be a servant to Voldemort. He's made desperate attempts to leave the country with his family, and Michelin has been trying to help. However, his position at the moment has Michelin questioning whether he should be helping a Death Eater, to begin with." Lyra said as she picked up a ginger newt from the tray.

"Although, in the last exchange of correspondences that Michelin has had with him...over the few days that I was there, I asked Michelin to question him on certain things about Voldemort...to pretend he was curious about Voldemort's life. The moron replied, with answers hoping it would help him get safe passage into America."

"More so...he mentioned...someone who would be very useful for us to put the pieces together...and I heard his name through many of my British sources as well."

"Honestly, I don't know if he can be trusted, or where we'd find him, or if he'd be useful in any way. He's too frightened to stay in one place since the Death Eaters have tried recruiting him. He was Voldemort's favorite professor at Hogwarts."

"Horace Slughorn." Albus stated quietly.

Lyra raised her eyebrows; it had taken her days, no weeks…to locate this information, and Dumbledore had said the man's name in seconds.

"Apparently, he might have the information we seek." Lyra remarked in a pensive tone. She bit into the biscuit.

Albus sat there in silence, a certain realization dawning upon him. Memories of Slughorn flooded back. He recalled Slughorn as a pompous fellow, perpetually seeking connections with the elite of the wizarding world. Albus remembered the year when the man had initiated the Slug Club to satisfy his fantasies. Slughorn and he had both become Hogwarts teachers in the same year when the war efforts against Grindelwald had kicked off with Albus at the helm.

Nevertheless, Albus's thoughts also wandered back to the day he had visited a young Tom Riddle at the orphanage. At that time, Albus had been quite young himself, just joining Hogwarts as a teacher at the age of 21, fresh off his fame for discovering the uses of dragon's blood.

Albus glanced at Lyra, who sat there eating her biscuit and picking up the second one. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy. They had both achieved greatness at a young age, and now they were bearing the brunt of it.

"I'll assign Tonks and Kingsley to trace Horace Slughorn." Albus stated, and Lyra nodded in agreement. She rose from her seat, ready to release the wards on the door, but she paused and sat back down as Dumbledore spoke again.

"Lyra, this has been nothing short of inspiring. The way you've uncovered all this information has propelled us several steps forward compared to where we'd be without you." Albus praised her with genuine admiration.

"I'm just doing my job, Albus." She replied modestly, shrugging off the compliment.

"I will require more assistance as we delve deeper into these matters, especially in the task of destroying..."

"I understand." She interjected with a somber tone, turning away slightly.

Ever since Grindelwald had revealed that fiendfyre could be used to destroy Horcruxes, the notion had been eating away at her.

"Your presence here is undoubtedly a sign that your destiny is entwined with the future of our world." Albus continued.

"Yes, that annoying book is rarely wrong." She retorted with a hint of bitterness.

"And there is something else..." Albus began, and Lyra perched at the edge of her seat, listening intently.

"Lyra, I know I made you a promise, but so far, I've come up empty-handed. There is no record of your birth in any magical hospitals. And while there are many muggles with that surname, none of them who I've tracked down have had children anywhere near your date of birth." Albus admitted, and Lyra's head drooped with disappointment. It seemed that her quest to find her biological parents had reached a dead end. If someone like Dumbledore couldn't locate them, what hope was there?

"It's all right, Albus. I...I wasn't expecting you to discover much." She replied dejectedly. Her lifelong pursuit of answers now felt shattered and utterly futile.

"I'm not finished..." Albus replied, causing Lyra to raise her head in surprise. What could he possibly mean after telling her that there seemed to be no way to find her parents?

"There is a man who can help us, an old friend and mentor of mine. However, I don't know how open you'd be to this." Albus broached the topic cautiously.

"I'm willing to try anything possible." She responded eagerly.

"Alchemy...combined with blood magic?" He inquired.

Lyra fell into a thoughtful silence. It was an extreme proposition. She had never considered delving into blood magic, an ancient and mysterious form of magic few wizards dared to explore. Those who had often suffered dire consequences.

"I'll try anything, Albus. I want to know." She declared firmly.

"It won't be an easy journey. We'll need to be extremely cautious." Albus cautioned.

"I'll do whatever you say."

"Who taught you to drive that muggle car?"

"Jacob, Queenie's husband. He's a muggle, and I drive quite well. You don't need to worry. I can drive us there!"

"Jacob? Really? He's as good a driver as he is a baker. I remember him quite well, actually. He taught me how to drive too." Albus chuckled, reminiscing about the time they had tried to blend in with muggles on a bustling American street while trying to get away from some of Grindelwald's followers. Albus had inadvertently climbed into the wrong side of the muggle contraption, and Jacob had provided swift instructions to navigate it.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"How far do we have to go?"

"Veules Les Roses."

"Where's that?"

"It's a small muggle village in Northern France."

"Your alchemist lives in a muggle village?"

"Yes..."

"People probably think he's some kind of witch doctor or something..."

"He usually keeps to himself. His wife, on the other hand, is charming company."

"When do we leave? Should we go now?"

"We can depart tomorrow before the children leave for Diagon Alley."

Lyra nodded with eagerness. This was the best news she had heard in years, and she couldn't contain her gratitude. She impulsively hugged him, her nose tickled by his beard.

"Thank you! You have no idea what this means to me! I will never forget what you've done for me, Albus!" She expressed her happiness wholeheartedly.

AN/- Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you're enjoying the story...it's going to get super interesting now :P