Chapter 12
Grandma M
Hogwarts embraced the Christmas season with unwavering enthusiasm. The castle was adorned with festive decorations, and not a single corner was left untouched by the colors of red, green, and white.
On Christmas Eve, the castle was graced with a layer of pristine white snow, adding to the enchantment of the season. Lyra groaned as her faithful companion, Burst, had been the one to rouse her from slumber. Now fully recovered from her recent burn day, Burst was back to her usual self.
"Yeah…yeah…I know…you love the snow…" Lyra grumbled, pushing herself out of bed and shuffling her feet—still cocooned in her oversized quilt—toward the window. She opened it to allow the phoenix to explore freely in the snowy landscape.
Lyra checked her watch and sighed, collapsing back into her bed. Unlike Burst, she had no desire to start the day. She had an obligation to attend her mother's Christmas lunch in Hogsmeade at precisely 12 o'clock. The event had been rescheduled to Christmas Eve, given that the Yule Ball was to take place on Christmas itself. Her mother insisted that both Lyra and Sarah deserved a good night's sleep before the ball, as they would be preoccupied with dressing up and preparations. Lyra scoffed, she was hardly interested in making an effort at all. Even those dress robes were bought, just to shut Athena up!
Lyra reluctantly pulled back the comforter and considered her options. She contemplated returning to sleep to delay the inevitable.
She happily pulled back the comforter and succumbed to the embrace of slumber once more.
In her dreams, fire raged, consuming everything in its voracious path. Her bed was a blazing inferno, her clothes turned to ash, and her very hands danced with leaping flames. Panic surged through her as she frantically scanned the inferno around her. Had she somehow unleashed this dark magic again? No, that couldn't be possible. She had left that sinister part of her past behind years ago, with no motive to revisit it. Yet the fire continued to ravage the room, flames licking hungrily at the walls. She watched in disbelief as her childhood bedroom was reduced to ashes.
Lyra held up her hands trying to process what was happening to her, expecting searing pain, but to her bewilderment, there was none. The fire clung to her skin, casting eerie, flickering shadows on her face. It held her hands steady, as though guiding her to unleash their devastating powers. Panic clawed at her throat as the blaze showed no signs of relenting.
Then came the pounding.
"Lyra!"
"Lyra?! Are you in there?!"
"LYRAA! OPEN THE DOOR!"
With a start, Lyra was jolted awake from the nightmarish vision. Her body was drenched in sweat, and her heart raced as she gasped for breath. She scrambled to make sense of her surroundings, realizing with relief that she was back in her room at Hogwarts. The pounding on her door persisted, tearing her from the grip of the fiery nightmare.
"LYRA! We're late! Grandma is going to murder us!" Sarah's urgent voice called from outside.
Glancing at her watch, Lyra's heart raced as she realized how late they were. She hadn't even brushed her teeth. She hastily opened the door, clad in her pajamas, and let Sarah inside.
"Merlin! You're not even dressed!" Sarah exclaimed, a mixture of exasperation and concern in her voice.
"Just a quick shower, and we'll be there in no time. Do me a favor and pick out something decent." Lyra instructed her niece, who promptly began searching through the closet for suitable attire. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a thick maroon woollen jumper, waving her wand to quickly tidy them up. A black, long wool jacket completed the ensemble.
Lyra emerged from her bedroom in a towel, ready to get dressed. Meanwhile, Sarah moved about the room, muttering cleaning spells and rearranging items to their proper places.
Lyra secured her wand holster and quickly slipped into the clothes Sarah had laid out on her freshly made bed. Sarah continued her tidying efforts, casting cleaning charms and vanishing dust as she went.
"You're smoking too much..." Sarah complained as she vanished the ash from a nearby surface.
"Shall we?" Lyra asked, rubbing her hands together to warm them slightly.
"You live like a pig!" Sarah scolded, exasperated, as Lyra ushered her out of the room.
"How do you find anything in that place?" Sarah wondered aloud as they made their way toward the village.
"I hope you didn't clean up too much in there. I have a system!" Lyra said, a tinge of genuine concern in her voice.
"What system? That was just chaos!" Sarah retorted.
"And by the way, how systematic of you to wear two different socks…" Sarah added with sarcasm, shaking her head.
"Damn it!" Lyra cursed, looking down at her mismatched socks.
"Well…let's just hope your grandmother doesn't notice."
"She hardly gets to see you as it is, Ly. And when she does, she looks at you like you haven't eaten for years…you think she won't notice the socks?" Sarah said, shaking her head with an amused smile.
"You're probably right…should have worn my boots!" Lyra muttered, shaking her head. The unsettling dream from earlier still weighed on her mind, and the lack of time to contemplate its meaning bothered her immensely.
"Merry Christmas, Harry!" Sarah exclaimed as she approached Harry and enveloped him in a warm hug. A faint blush colored Harry's cheeks as he wished her and accepted the hug. After greeting Harry, Sarah extended her wishes to Hermione and Ron, and Lyra followed suit, offering her warm holiday greetings to them.
Lyra observed the exchange between Sarah and Potter with a kind smile, appreciating the genuine affection she seemed to have for him.
Suddenly, a large weight collided with Lyra's back, nearly causing her to lose her balance. She turned around, ready to scold the offender, but her stern expression melted into a smirk when she saw the familiar, shaggy black dog.
"Oh, it's you, you thief!" Lyra playfully chided the dog, crouching down to its level as it sniffed her pockets eagerly.
"Sorry, buddy, no treats today." Lyra teased, showing her empty hands. Sarah joined in, petting the dog affectionately as it wagged its tail and gave her a joyful bark.
"He's absolutely adorable!" Sarah exclaimed, her eyes filled with affection as she extended her hand to pet the dog. Lyra joined in, her fingers playfully ruffling the dog's fur and shaking its face and kissing it gently, causing it to wag its tail even more vigorously. The dog responded to their attention with growing excitement, showering Lyra with playful licks as she laughed wholeheartedly.
"Alright…uh…that's enough!" Said Harry awkwardly, pulling the dog away from Lyra.
"Is he your dog, Mr. Potter?" Lyra inquired, standing up and gazing at Harry curiously.
"Uh, yeah, sort of..." Harry replied, his words trailing off as he hesitated.
"What's his name?" Lyra asked, her gaze shifting between the dog and Harry.
Her query seemed to catch Harry off guard, and he stammered.
"His...na...name?"
Hermione, always quick to assist, jumped in, declaring.
"His name is Snuffles."
"Really? Who names their dog Snuffles?" Ron muttered, voicing his thoughts absentmindedly as he received disapproving looks from his friends.
"Well...aren't you a goood boyyy...Snuffleess!" Sarah cooed affectionately.
"We should get going; we're already running late." Lyra said, reluctantly tearing herself away from the delightful dog. Sarah nodded in agreement, and they said their goodbyes to Harry, Hermione, and Ron before heading towards the Three Broomsticks.
Upon their arrival, they spotted Michelin and Zenia engaged in conversation with a family of blondes, and Sarah immediately recognized the unpleasant boy who had challenged her earlier.
"Isn't that the little creep who started the duel?" Sarah hissed, her anger clear as she glared at the boy. Lyra frowned in agreement, recognizing him from the previous incident.
A voice interrupted their thoughts as Zeus Shorthorn approached them, and Sarah enthusiastically greeted him. However, Lyra's demeanor was noticeably more reserved.
"Ly, you obviously know Zeus." Sarah said, expecting some acknowledgment.
"Yeah, as the Hogwarts champion...why is he at this stupid lunch?" Lyra asked, her tone tinged with uncertainty, waiting for Sarah to provide some context about the situation.
"Well, because he's my boyfriend." Sarah proudly declared. Zeus Shorthorn glanced warily at Lyra, who eyed him suspiciously, her sharp gaze assessing him.
"Boyfriend, is it?" Lyra asked Zeus in an intimidating tone, probing further.
"Yes! Do you have a problem with that?" Sarah snapped, clearly defensive.
Lyra shook her head, concealing her true feelings. She had significant reservations about the situation, especially given the optics of two champions from rival schools being in a relationship.
"Sarah...Lyra..." Michelin called them over to introduce them to the Malfoys.
Lyra extended her hand to greet the Malfoy family members, her polite demeanor contrasting with her earlier skepticism. However, one of the Malfoy men appeared to be particularly disdainful as he eyed Zeus Shorthorn with contempt.
"Is something bothering you, Mr. Malfoy?" Lyra inquired, her tone cutting as she fixed him with a piercing gaze. He hesitated for a moment, then offered a smug smile, prompting Lyra to clench her jaw to suppress her irritation.
Lyra was familiar with his type – a member of the privileged elite, leveraging generational wealth and influence to manipulate situations to their advantage. She couldn't help but feel disdain for such individuals, whose arrogance was often matched only by their ignorance of the real world and their condescending attitude towards those they considered beneath them.
"No, not at all." He replied, attempting to appear unruffled as he maintained his smirking facade.
They said their goodbyes. Sarah now dragged an extremely bothered looking Zeus Shorthorn towards her parents.
Sarah introduced Zeus to her parents, a significant step as it marked the first time she had introduced a boy as her boyfriend to her family.
"Mom...Dad...this is my boyfriend, Zeus." Sarah announced, casually sharing the information. It was apparent that this revelation carried substantial weight, considering her parents' reactions.
"Aren't you the Hogwarts champion?" Zenia inquired, a perplexed expression on her face as she looked between her daughter and Zeus. Meanwhile, Michelin directed a pointed look at his sister, who merely shrugged in response.
"Don't look at me...I thought they were just hooking up...I'm hearing of this for the first time!" Lyra retorted, raising her hands in mock innocence.
"Hooking...hooking up?!" Michelin erupted furiously, his gaze turning towards his daughter and then to Zeus, his eyes blazing with disapproval. It was evident that he had a torrent of questions and concerns to unload on the young man.
"Michelin, please...it's Christmas." Zenia said soothingly, her voice barely above a whisper, as she gently looped her hand through her husband's arm.
Reluctantly, Michelin backed down but shot a final, piercing glare at Zeus, causing the young man to take a step back, feeling the weight of the disapproving gaze.
"I'm sorry about him, he has a tendency to be over-protective. I'm Zenia...this is my husband, Michelin. Welcome to the Lincolns family Christmas Lunch." Zenia extended a gracious hand towards Zeus, her tone warm and welcoming. Grateful for her kindness, Zeus shook her hand with a smile.
"Shall we get out of the cold?" Zeus suggested charmingly. Zenia nodded in agreement, returning his smile, and Zeus courteously held the door open for them.
"Ridiculous! Absolutely...ridiculous...if you think, I'm going to allow this non-sense, Zenia..."
Michelin couldn't help but grumble softly under his breath, clearly discontented with the situation, as his wife shot him an exasperated glare. He huffed and begrudgingly followed her into the pub.
"Don't worry…he'll…come around…" Sarah reassured Zeus with a shake of her head, dismissing her father's irate behavior.
Uncertainty gripped Zeus as he stood holding the door open for Lyra and Sarah, prompting him to voice his reservations.
"Sarah...maybe I shouldn't be here..." He began tentatively, his gaze shifting between the two women, his hand still maintaining a firm grip on the door.
"You are the boyfriend, aren't you? Why must we suffer through this alone?" Lyra quipped, giving Zeus a gentle nudge to usher him inside. He glanced around the bustling establishment, clearly anxious.
"Might as well initiate you into the madness now, rather than later..." Lyra added with a mischievous smirk, pushing him further forward into the Three Broomsticks.
The interior revealed an exceptionally large table, as Margery Lincolns had evidently claimed an entire section of the inn for her annual party. The older guests were already seated. Margery and Franklin occupied seats side by side, engaged in animated conversation with Minerva and Athena, who were seated opposite them and appeared to be enjoying their drinks.
"Lyra!" Margery chimed with a radiant smile, eagerly enveloping her daughter in a warm hug. Lyra, though appreciating the affection, subtly gestured for her mother to loosen her grip.
"Why are you wearing two different socks?" Margery's maternal concern became evident as she frowned at Lyra's fashion choice.
"Mom, it's not a big deal, really!" Lyra protested.
"How someone as intelligent as you can be so absent-minded is beyond me!"
"Please, Mom..."
"You've lost weight again, haven't you? You haven't been eating properly!" Margery fretted.
"Mom..."
"Or have you started drinking again? Is that it?"
"Mom!"
"Don't 'Mom' me! Lyra, when will you start taking care of yourself?"
"Margery..." Franklin interjected, sounding weary. Lyra shot him a grateful look, silently begging for assistance.
"Control your woman!" Lyra playfully teased her father, who chuckled in response.
"What did you say?!" Margery's tone sharpened.
Franklin and Lyra exchanged an amused glance.
"Don't come crying to me next time, complaining about another burnt cake for the auror potluck!" Margery retorted.
"I won't. I'll just ask Jacob to make me one!" Lyra replied.
"You know his son is still single..."
"REALLY, MOM!"
"What? He is...and he's a lovely boy...works in his father's bakery...you love sweets, don't you...? I'm sure he'd love to go on a date."
"Mom...I've known Alvin since I was a kid...I'm never going to date him..."
"Why not? He's perfectly good! Better than all your other one-week-long flings!"
"Are you done passing judgment on my love life?"
"Haven't even started, love! We haven't even spoken about the time we caught that handsome Italian fellow you were seeing trying to break into our house!"
"That was one time! And he wasn't trying to break in...he was trying to leave...without being noticed!" Lyra retorted.
"Come here, darling..." Franklin called Lyra over pitifully, effectively breaking the argument, and pulled her into a hug.
Lyra then hugged her father, who held her chin and kissed the top of her head, a familiar gesture that brought a small smile to her face.
Margery rolled her eyes at Athena, her sister, who sat there laughing at the exchange.
"Stop laughing!" She snapped at her sisters.
"Grandmom...if you're done with your precious daughter, I'd like to introduce you to someone..." Sarah piped up.
"Yeah...Grandmom...this will definitely shake...I mean...make your day..." Lyra added with a smirk as her father's hand still remained around her shoulders. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then headed toward the end of the table to join her brother. Sarah shot her aunt a disapproving glare but proceeded to introduce her boyfriend to her grandparents.
Sarah then introduced Zeus, who appeared somewhat nervous, fiddling with his coat buttons. However, he received a much warmer welcome from Sarah's grandparents than he had from their son. Margery bombarded him with a barrage of questions, to which he tried his best to respond. He felt grateful for Professor McGonagall's support and bowed his head appreciatively when she smiled at him. However, Zeus found himself seated next to Lyra Marks and across from Sarah's father, Michelin, who gave him cold looks.
The waitstaff brought jugs of mulled wine and served each of them in elegant goblets, along with dishes of snacks.
"So, Zeus…how did you and Sarah start dating?" Zenia inquired, raising her goblet as she focused her attention on the young man.
"Uh…I…I…uh…told her…that…that I…uh…liked her a lot…and we just went out a couple of times…" Zeus began.
"A couple of times?!" Michelin interjected, his tone sharp. Sarah rolled her eyes and picked up the story where Zeus had left off.
"We have a lot in common, Mom. Zeus wants to be a healer too! And guess what…he loves potions," Sarah said with a smirk, as if that were a selling point. Zenia regarded Zeus with sparkling eyes.
"Really? Is that true? How delightful…you hardly find young people these days interested in the subtle art of potion-making…" Zenia exclaimed, clearly interested in learning more. Sarah exchanged an odd look with her mother, apparently surprised by her enthusiastic response. Did all potion-makers speak in such a manner?
Zenia and Zeus continued their conversation, delving into the proper uses of antidotes and his thoughts on exotic ingredients stocked by apothecaries these days. Zeus spoke intelligently on the topic, and they shared jokes, seemingly getting along quite well.
Sarah appeared pleased, but her mother wasn't the one she was worried about.
"Merlin! Are you going to look so sour at this already somber party?" Lyra hissed at her brother, her annoyance evident. He glared back at her.
"My daughter…is dating this boy, and you didn't think it was important for me to know?"
"I didn't know either!" She hissed back at him.
Their conversation continued, completely ignoring Zeus Shorthorn, who sat at the same table as them.
"Sounds like an excuse." Michelin snapped at his sister, who simply rolled her eyes.
"Ugh! Can we get some real alcohol?" Lyra called out to her mother, who responded with a strict glare.
"I guess, fucking not..." She muttered grumpily, rolling her eyes. She never really liked wine, finding it rather pointless. It was too expensive, required too much consumption to get drunk, and inevitably left you with a hangover that no potion could cure. Her brother shook his head at her.
Michelin's sour mood, however, lasted only for a couple of minutes. He craned his neck to catch sight of the tall man who had just entered the inn, with people greeting him happily.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Michelin waved enthusiastically from his seat, drawing Dumbledore's attention. As Dumbledore approached their table, Zenia rolled her eyes. She leaned on the table and exchanged a knowing look with Lyra, who raised an eyebrow in response.
"He hasn't stopped gushing about meeting him…I don't know how much more of this I can take!" Zenia whispered to Lyra, her frustration evident as she sipped from her goblet.
"Zenia…scooch over…" Michelin urged off-handedly, realizing his wife's discomfort. Zenia raised a pointed eyebrow at her husband.
"Darling…I meant…please…" Michelin quickly corrected his tone, gazing at his wife, who threw him a sharp look. She rolled her eyes but eventually shifted over a seat to accommodate Professor Dumbledore.
"Professor…I insist you join us for lunch!" Michelin said, standing up and shaking Dumbledore's hand vigorously.
"I really don't wish to intrude, Mr. Lincolns. Perhaps, another time…Merry Christmas!" Dumbledore responded, glancing at the table. He then attempted to make a hasty exit.
"Intrude? YOU! Rubbish…please sit…Mom, you don't mind, do you? Of course, she doesn't…please…please do sit down." Michelin insisted, not allowing his mother to get a word in. He practically forced Dumbledore into a seat, his excitement blinding him to the discomfort displayed on the faces of others at the front of the table.
Dumbledore himself looked exceptionally uncomfortable, having been coerced into intruding on this intimate family gathering.
"I told you…he's obsessed with you." Lyra whispered to Dumbledore, who looked at Michelin over his half-moon glasses with an amused smile.
Michelin courteously poured Dumbledore a glass of wine and extended the snacks on the table to him, which Dumbledore politely declined. However, he gratefully accepted the wine, thinking it might help alleviate the tension.
Michelin then engaged Dumbledore in a conversation that was, in Lyra's opinion, rather dull. Lyra noticed Zenia's evident boredom as well and decided to change the subject.
"Has he ever looked at you so lovingly?" Lyra teased Zenia, gesturing toward Michelin.
Zenia glanced across the table at her husband and noticed what Lyra meant. Michelin, who had been in a sour mood just moments ago, had transformed into an enthusiastic conversationalist, laughing and chatting with the man seated next to him.
"Relax, Michelin! Christmas is still a day away..." Lyra teased, enjoying her brother's sudden change of demeanor. He looked like an excited child unwrapping presents.
"You know…we're discussing world laws and policies…you should actually be listening in!" Michelin scolded Lyra, taking his conversation very seriously.
"Why the hell would I want to listen to any of that?" Lyra quipped as she refilled her goblet.
"Because…because you're literally LAW ENFORCEMENT!" Michelin said loudly, shaking his head in disbelief at her. Dumbledore observed the playful banter between brother and sister. It seemed like she was trying to provoke him, and surprisingly, Michelin was allowing it.
"Right now…it sounds like you are law enforcement for this lunch!" Lyra retorted, not missing a beat.
"Sounds about right..." Zenia chimed in, raising her goblet, further supporting Lyra's point.
"World politics and justice is not boring, Zee and Lyra. It is crucial to wizard-kind…your generation will never understand, why it's so important…" He began his customary rant; they were literally just a few years younger than him. The two women laughed looking at each other. There was a twinkle in their eyes, it was clear that they were preparing to gang up on him.
"Oh! I get it…this is funny because Michelin is boring…Michelin doesn't know how to have fun…you know, you two could stand to be a bit more serious about these matters. They have a profound impact on the entire wizarding community! It's far from boring; in fact, it's truly exciting to delve into this knowledge! We're presented with a unique opportunity with Professor Dumbledore at our table...he's practically one of the architects behind many of these laws!" Michelin snapped, finally revealing his irritation at their playful teasing.
"Oh no! It's as exciting as that yam pie Athena attempts every year for Thanksgiving. Honestly…I think that'd be more entertaining than this…" Lyra quipped, her laughter growing more infectious by the second, causing Zenia to join in with even louder laughter.
"Well…if you're so bored…drink some more…" Michelin shot back at his wife and sister, his annoyance now on full display. Meanwhile, Zenia and Lyra continued to chuckle mischievously, clearly reveling in the playful banter and the reaction they had provoked from Michelin.
"I would, if there were any decent booze here…" Lyra muttered, dismissing the wine she had in her hand.
"You'd like that very much, wouldn't you?" Came a smooth, female voice from behind Lyra.
Instantly, Lyra froze, her fingers gripping the arms of her chair. Her teasing smile vanished as she turned around slowly to see who had spoken. Michelin now grew truly serious, Zenia, too, looked extremely concerned when she noticed the presence of this unwelcome woman, who stood regally behind Lyra's chair.
"Grandma M…" Michelin began to rise from his seat to offer it to her.
"Oh no! Stay right there, Michelin." Grandma M said pointedly, preventing him from getting up.
"You know, Zenia..." Grandma M snapped at Zenia, her tone dripping with condescension
"...Instead of amusing yourself at your husband's expense, perhaps you should extend him the courtesy of your silence. But then again, manners have never been your strong suit, especially considering the company you tend to keep."
Zenia clenched her fists, clearly affected by her sharp words. Grandma M then turned her attention to her favourite target.
"I didn't know we were allowed guests, Margery. I would have brought some of my own." She added scathingly, casting her gaze from her daughter to Lyra.
"Mother…please…" Margery began in a snappish tone, clearly harrowed by how her Christmas party was rapidly descending into a nightmare.
"What? She is a guest…isn't she…in your home…your family. She sure behaves like one. A rude one at that. Wouldn't you agree with me, Lyra? You don't really think you're a part of this lovely celebration for the family…do you?" Grandma M said sweetly, her words laced with venom.
"Are you going to get up…or have you already had too much to drink to manage it?" She added rudely, her tone bordering on offensive.
Lyra clenched her jaw tightly. Without uttering a single word or making eye contact with anyone at the table, she stood from her chair and walked straight out of the inn. Zenia began to rise, but Michelin gave her a pleading look, silently urging her to sit down for his mother's sake. Zenia glared angrily at her husband for allowing his sister to be treated this way by the horrid woman, but it seemed that everyone at the table was accustomed to this behavior. In fact, they almost expected it.
Every Christmas, Grandma M would say something incredibly rude to Lyra, but Lyra had learned to ignore it. So, the rest of the family uncomfortably ignored it as well. However, today was different. It was evident that Lyra felt insulted in front of Dumbledore and Minerva, who didn't know her as well as the rest of the family did.
"Lyra…" Margery called out to her daughter as she stormed past her.
Lyra didn't even acknowledge her mother with a look or a hug; she just walked out in frustration. Margery glared at her mother, who had taken Lyra's vacated seat and was introducing herself to a visibly worried Zeus Shorthorn.
The table that had once been filled with laughter and conversation was now completely silent.
Dumbledore began to rise from his seat.
"Sir! No…Professor Dumbledore…please don't…leave…" Michelin implored, noticing the man's intention to depart. That was when Grandma M and Dumbledore's eyes met. She regarded him with an expression of extreme disgust—a look that Michelin found unsettling. It was the same look she usually reserved solely for Lyra.
"I think I've overstayed my welcome, Mr. Lincolns." Dumbledore said, making an effort to exit politely.
"No…of course you haven't!" Michelin protested, shaking his head.
"Let him go, Michelin. It's what he does best…leave." Grandma M said, looking directly at Albus. He met her gaze calmly and nodded politely at the rest of the table in gratitude before making his way out.
"Professor…Dumbledore…" Michelin tried to call him back, but Dumbledore had already left.
"Margery…is this what you call a Christmas dinner? Where's the turkey?" Grandma M scolded, and Margery Lincolns buried her head in her hands.
The other two McGonagall sisters glared at their mother and attempted to console their older sister with comforting words. However, it was clear that Margery Lincolns' annual Christmas party had officially turned into a disaster.
Lyra stood just outside the Three Broomsticks pub, frustration evident on her face as she struggled to light her cigarette with a muggle lighter.
"Come on..." She muttered, clicking the stubborn lighter in an attempt to ignite it.
"Comeh onf, youf stufhid phing." She grumbled, growing increasingly irritated, the cigarette dangled from her lips, unlit.
"FUCKKKKK!" Lyra finally erupted in anger as the lighter continued to defy her. In a fit of frustration, she tossed it to the ground, but to her astonishment, a flame clung to her finger as if it had been ignited by it, burning it gently. Panic surged through her as she desperately tried to extinguish it, bewildered by the bizarre occurrence.
"Ms. Marks? Are you alright?" A voice interrupted her ministrations. Lyra turned to see Dumbledore, who had witnessed the strange event. She nodded, and just like that, the flame vanished, leaving her puzzled but relieved.
Dumbledore observed her carefully while retrieving a cigarette from his robes.
"I thought you didn't smoke..." She said, puzzled, as he placed the cigarette between his lips and produced an emerald green lighter. He effortlessly lit his cigarette and extended the flame to offer her a light. She accepted it, still bewildered by what had just transpired.
"I lied..." He replied smoothly, gesturing toward an alley beside the Three Broomsticks, ensuring they remained unseen by students. Lyra followed him.
"Why aren't you still inside with my brother? Did he really bore you that much?" She inquired with a raised eyebrow, prompting a chuckle from Dumbledore. After a brief pause, he responded.
"It wasn't your brother, my dear..."
"Now you're just being polite."
"It was your grandmother." He admitted bluntly.
Lyra frowned, puzzled by her grandmother's apparent aversion to Dumbledore. He was, after all, the great Albus Dumbledore, one of the most beloved wizards in the world. What could have caused her grandmother, to hold such animosity towards him?
"Yeah, she's a nasty piece of work." Lyra scoffed, as Dumbledore regarded her with interest.
"Would you...like to join me for lunch, Ms. Marks?" He offered, and Lyra, though hesitant, accepted while taking a long drag from her cigarette, determined not to appear pitiable.
"I...Albus...I wouldn't want to intrude on your plans." She replied, her cheeks tinged with embarrassment.
"Please, it's just lunch with my brother. Trust me, you would make it more bearable. I've heard he's quite the fan." Dumbledore smiled warmly at her.
"Your brother is a fan of mine?" She asked incredulously, thinking he was joking. He began leading her in the direction he was headed.
"Oh, yes! He calls you his favorite customer." Dumbledore revealed, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Aberforth! Aberforth is your brother?" Lyra exclaimed in surprise.
"He is, my younger brother..."
"You're nothing alike...I would have never guessed it!"
Dumbledore chuckled as he held the door to the pub open for her. The Hogshead was eerily empty, save for Aberforth behind the bar, meticulously wiping down glasses, as usual.
"You're late!" Aberforth grumbled at his brother, his demeanor shifting drastically when he saw Lyra walk in.
"Lyra! What...what are you doing here?" Aberforth asked, a rare smile gracing his typically gruff countenance.
"Not happy to see me today, Abe? I hope you don't mind, but may I join you for lunch?" Lyra quipped, returning his smile. Aberforth beamed at her.
"Nonsense! I'm always happy to see my favorite customer! But if some people weren't so late, lunch would still be hot!" Aberforth grumbled.
"How about a drink before you kick me out?" Albus suggested. Aberforth glared at him and muttered under his breath.
"Here you go... share it!" Aberforth said, slamming a bottle of Fire Whiskey on the table and placing three glasses beside it. He then disappeared into the back room, returning with three plates of roast beef and potatoes.
"Your grandmother, doesn't like you very much?" Dumbledore inquired, swirling the amber liquid in his glass while studying Lyra closely. She sighed and shrugged in response.
"The feeling is mutual." She replied picking up her glass.
"Why?" He inquired, curious.
"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." She retorted playfully, taking a sip of her Fire Whiskey.
"Who doesn't like this fool?" Aberforth interjected.
"Magnolia McGonagall..." Lyra replied, taking another sip, her gaze locked on Dumbledore.
"Minerva's mother?" Aberforth asked, perplexed.
"Aberforth..." Albus cautioned.
"She's...your grandmother?" Aberforth asked in astonishment.
"Not...really." Lyra admitted, shaking her head.
"What does that mean?" Aberforth inquired, frowning.
"Look at you being all chatty today, Abe..." Lyra chuckled wryly, her gaze amused as she locked eyes with him.
"Just curious..."
"Well, if you must know...it's not really a secret, but...I was six when I was adopted by the Lincolns. All I know is that my biological parents were the Marks, and that I was born in England." Lyra shared, recounting a part of her past she didn't often discuss. She pushed her food around on her plate, lost in thought.
"Why does she dislike you, though?" Dumbledore asked, still uncertain about Lyra's cryptic comments.
"Because she's a horrible person...because she's a heartless bitch...because she believes the Lincolns made a grave mistake by adopting a child of the street... because she sees me as a charity case...because she thinks I don't deserve to be loved...because she sees me as a vile creature, exacting some kind of cruel punishment upon her daughter and her family..." Lyra explained, her voice tinged with bitterness.
"Although...she might not be entirely wrong about the last point...but apart from that, take your pick. She's been nasty to me ever since I met her for the first time. I was just six! It used to be incredibly painful, especially when I saw her dote on and love everyone else. She's the reason I discovered I was adopted. She told me once, after one of those awful Christmas lunches. Ever since then, I've been on a quest to find my birth parents, just to know who they were...or are, I don't know! Every time I've tried, I've come up empty-handed. I even attempted to access my own memories, but it's as if they've been wiped clean." Lyra confessed, pouring herself what appeared to be the fourth glass of Fire Whiskey.
"Alright... I'm cutting you off!" Aberforth snapped, taking the bottle from her. Lyra stiffened at his words but managed to compose herself, hoping they hadn't noticed.
"What about you? Why does she hate your guts?" Lyra asked, picking up her glass.
Dumbledore lit a cigarette, prompting Aberforth to grumble about the potential fire hazard.
"She has a good reason to..." Dumbledore replied somberly.
Lyra frowned, pushing for more details.
"What reason?"
"That's a bitter potion to swallow, ain't it, Albus?" Aberforth chimed in, giving his brother a scrutinizing look before turning to Lyra.
"He doesn't like discussing the biggest mistake of his life...it makes him feel like the undeserving fool that he is." Aberforth stated with a hint of disdain. Albus looked at his brother and then down at his glass, clearly pained.
"I'm not here to judge." Lyra interjected, lighting a cigarette for herself and disregarding Aberforth's disapproving glare.
"Years ago..." Dumbledore began, and Lyra listened intently.
"Years ago, your aunt Minerva and I were engaged to each other." He revealed, taking a sip from his glass.
"Wait...what! You and Minerva?" Lyra asked in astonishment.
"So, what did you do?" Lyra inquired, trying to piece together the puzzle. It now made sense why Athena was distant, why Minerva was cold towards him, and why Grandma M was outright hostile. It had to be something he had done.
"He broke her heart...that's what he did, like the insufferable fool that he is." Aberforth huffed, obviously displeased with his brother's decision from years ago.
"I had no choice..." Albus defended himself.
"We all have choices, Albus; you just made some terrible ones in your youth." Aberforth retorted, shaking his head.
"What did you do?" Lyra pressed, her brow furrowing. Dumbledore remained silent, so Aberforth took it upon himself to speak.
"They were inseparable, you know. She was an auror, simply the most brilliant witch she is. You didn't want to cross her in those days. She had a fiery spirit! She joined the fight against Grindelwald, and that's how they met. Of course, we knew them long before Minerva met Albus. Athena and Margery were in school with us. I remember Minerva too; she won Gryffindor those Quidditch cups single-handedly, and she was a genius at dueling, making many eat dirt in school." Aberforth reminisced fondly.
"They fell in love, and because of my brother's fame, a tabloid ran a story about their engagement. Fearing that Gellert Grindelwald would use this information against him, he selfishly broke off their engagement."
"He told her he was in love with someone else...and that..."
"You cheated on her?" Lyra interjected, shocked.
"No, he didn't...he would never. It's just something he said to...you know, make her leave him. In his mind, he believed that if she wasn't associated with him, she'd be safer."
"That's stupid! From what I've seen of Minerva, she seems more than capable of taking care of herself." Lyra remarked thoughtfully.
"Exactly! That's what I told him! But Albus always thinks he knows better than the rest of us..."
"What happened to Minerva then?" Lyra asked, focusing her attention on Albus. He tapped the ash off his cigarette as he spoke.
"She disappeared for a few years. Even after the war...I searched everywhere for her, but she simply vanished. I reached out to everyone she knew, hoping to reconnect and have a conversation with her, but I couldn't find her." Albus explained, sighing.
"Many years later, she resurfaced...I have no idea from where. She applied for a job at Hogwarts, and Professor Dippet, the headmaster at the time, introduced her as the new Transfigurations professor..." Albus continued, his gaze fixed on his drink.
"Merlin! That's messed up!"
"It is what it is..."
"And then...didn't you talk to her about it? Tell her you lied...tell her you still loved her?" Lyra inquired, growing increasingly frustrated with him.
"I did. I tried everything to reach her. But she was cold and wanted nothing to do with me."
"Can you blame her?" Aberforth grumbled.
"We slowly adapted to being professional with each other, and more recently, we've become friendlier...but that's as far as it goes." Albus admitted, looking guilt-ridden.
"You still love her, don't you?" Lyra asked, her frown now filled with pity.
"It's best not to dwell on our past, Ms. Marks." He replied, finishing the remainder of his drink.
"Best advice in the world," Lyra agreed, raising her glass in a silent toast before following suit.
AN/- Hope you liked the chapter. Do let me know what you guys think! Would love it if you left a review. Thanks!