Chapter 13

The Yule Ball

Lyra stood before the mirror, her gaze checking every possible angle of her reflection. She couldn't help but admit that the dress she wore was incredibly flattering.

"So, what do you think? Should we go with a daring red or a more subtle nude?" Lyra asked, raising two lipsticks and holding them up for inspection. Burst, cocked her head from side to side, seemingly contemplating the decision.

"Well, I guess you're right. Might as well go all out..." Lyra said with a smirk as she applied the bold red lipstick.

After securing a small gift box in her outer cloak pocket, she left her quarters and made her way through the bustling castle. Dignitaries from all three countries were in attendance, and many stopped her along the way to offer greetings. Some faces were familiar, while others were entirely unknown to her.

Lyra, as usual, found herself running late as she made her way to the great hall. Amidst the crowd, someone caught her eye, and she headed towards the woman dressed in elegant white robes.

"Tess!" Lyra greeted the older woman, who was adorned in the formal attire of the 27 Coven.

"It's nice to see you're making an effort." Tessra teased, embracing the younger woman warmly.

"I'm so happy to see you..." Lyra sighed in relief as she returned the hug from her mentor.

"Lyra!" Greeted a jovial man, and as she turned to face him, Lyra saw Demetrius holding two champagne flutes, one of which he handed to Tessra.

"Governor Gaunt..." She acknowledged him, bowing her head as she saw him in his Coven robes.

"Oh, please, Lyra..." He said dismissively, waving away the formality.

"I need to talk to you..." Lyra said hurriedly, drawing the attention of Tessra and Demetrius.

"I know what this is about..." Tessra began, scanning the hall discreetly.

"But this is not the time or place for discussing covert matters." She urged urgently.

"It happened, Tess! I'm worried it might keep happening..." Lyra began, but Tessra's expression silenced her. It couldn't be happening so soon.

"These are just the initial signs, Lyra. You don't need to be so worried..." Demetrius offered. Tessra, however, interrupted him with an tense look on her face.

"You need to take control, Lyra. Don't let it control you!" Tessra hissed.

"But how? How can I do that without a ring?" Lyra asked, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing upon her. Tessra's cryptic instructions did little to ease her concerns.

"Lyra, you're in the middle of a delicate situation. You'll need to adapt. It might be challenging for someone like you, I understand that. But we can't afford any mistakes. This is not to be taken lightly; it's a gift, an invaluable one that comes at the cost of your life. Don't be irresponsible with it." Tessra whispered, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.

Lyra was well aware of this fact. She understood that she couldn't simply hurl fireballs at those she had issues with. Frankly, there were moments when she felt that Tessra still thought of her as a stupid 17-year-old!

What truly gnawed at Lyra was the lack of clarity in Tessra's words. What was she supposed to do with this newfound power? Tessra's explanations did little to alleviate her concerns. She feared that she might continue to spontaneously burst into flames without any proper training. Her path forward seemed shrouded in uncertainty, with Tessra making it clear that the topic wouldn't even be broached until after the tournament was over.

"Masters of Fire need to have control over their thoughts and emotions, Lyra..." Demetrius added.

"Not here, you two!" Tessra scolded.

"You need to understand the confidentiality of this matter. It's best not to discuss it in such a public setting. We don't know who might be listening."

"I suggest we enjoy the rest of the evening and put this aside for now. When you return to America, we'll start guiding you in the basics of elemental magic. Until then, keep your emotions in check. That's an order, Lyra. I hope I won't have to repeat myself. Now, go, I see your aunt looking for you." Tessra said gently, waving at Athena, who was approaching them. Lyra quickly slipped away.

She had no desire to enjoy the festivities. All she wanted was to escape and wait for this ordeal to pass so she could return to her normal life. She was tired of socializing with bureaucrats.

She bit her lip as she glanced at the crowded dance floor. Minerva, in her stunning emerald gown, danced and laughed with Ludo Bagman. Lyra's gaze then shifted to Dumbledore, who was engaged in conversation with international dignitaries, his eyes discreetly following the couple she had been observing earlier.

"There you are! I've been searching everywhere for you!" Athena snapped as she approached Lyra.

"Why, though?" Lyra asked, grabbing a champagne flute from one of the floating trays and taking a sip before spitting it back in and placing it back down.

"I just want some regular alcohol at these parties. Is that too much to ask for?"

"Come on, the mentors' dance is starting. You already missed the champions dancing together. You should have seen Sarah and Zeus. They looked absolutely stunning together." Athena said, smiling sweetly and glancing at the couple, who were sharing a laugh at the staff table where all the champions were seated tonight.

"Right, Mr. Chomsky, I've found your dance partner." Athena said, handing Lyra over to the imposing man, who happened to be Viktor Krum's mentor.

Chomsky smiled and led Lyra onto the dance floor, where a grand band, under the guidance of Professor Flitwick, began to play a lovely waltz. Lyra struggled to recall the dance steps and found herself constantly glancing at her feet. Chomsky's movements were far less graceful compared to Dumbledore's.

"So, how do you know Krum?" Lyra inquired, realizing that she hadn't interacted with him much before.

"He's my brother-in-law..." Chomsky replied, his thick accent making his words a bit hard to decipher.

They engaged in some small talk, during which Chomsky shared a peculiar folk story from his local village, involving a magician with numerous precious magical possessions.

"My wife...is my most cherished possession, which is why I am helping her brother." He stated. Lyra winced at his choice of words. It made her feel like he only valued his wife as a trophy.

Chomsky went on to explain that he was actually the coach of the Quidditch team that Krum played for, and that's how he had met his wife, with whom he'd been married for three lovely years.

Their conversation was interrupted when someone cleared their throat behind them. Chomsky courteously bowed and kissed Lyra's hand.

"May I have this dance?" Moody asked gruffly. She smiled and placed her hand in his, but soon realized that Moody was a much more proficient dancer than she had expected. She struggled to keep up with his swift moves, and that's when she began to sense that something was amiss.

"You're a terrible dancer...for a duellist!" Moody scolded her after she accidentally stepped on his feet multiple times.

"And you're surprisingly nimble for someone with a limp!" Lyra retorted, her words sharp.

They exchanged a strange look, and Lyra noticed Moody's tongue darting out of his mouth like a snake, a peculiar tic. It caught her off guard, and she frowned, about to comment on it, but Moody quickly bowed and excused himself, claiming dizziness from all the spins around the room.

As Lyra stood alone in the middle of the ballroom, a deep baritone voice drawled behind her.

"Let's get this over with."

She turned to see the man before her, her perturbed expression still intact. He extended his hand and, just as Dumbledore had during their practice, drew her close. With a firm yet gentle grip, he held her waist, maintaining a respectable distance.

Snape guided her with the same grace and fluidity as Dumbledore had done earlier. The transition was so seamless that Lyra hardly noticed when the music had changed.

"Who are you staring at?" He snapped, pulling her attention away from her thoughts. She realized she had stepped on his foot again; her heels were proving quite proficient at delivering pain.

"What do you think he's drinking?" Lyra questioned, her gaze once again drifting suspiciously toward Moody. Until tonight, there had been no reason to doubt the man, but the way he had looked at her, his peculiar dancing, the tic on his face—it all raised red flags.

"Probably a strengthening potion." Snape replied nonchalantly.

"No one downs a strengthening potion like that. You know it. He's never without that hip flask—constantly taking swig after swig, every hour..."

"You're not his healer, Ms. Marks. Perhaps you should stick to what you know." Snape retorted.

"But aren't you curious? There's something off about him...I can feel it!" She said, her suspicion evident. She wasn't entirely sure why she was sharing her reservations with him.

"You...you feel it?" Snape hissed at her, his anger rising. She looked at him with a puzzled frown.

"I hope you don't go around arresting innocent people just because...you feel it!" He remarked sarcastically. He understood the nature of Aurors well, and she came across as one of those who operated with upon their own assumptions.

"Why do you care?" He snapped at her, now suspicious himself.

"Wouldn't you? Especially since he's Harry Potter's mentor? That boy has clearly had a rough time since coming to Hogwarts, from the stories I've heard during the months I've been here..."

"Perhaps you should check your sources." Snape snapped.

Why had she framed it that way? Instead of raising suspicions about Moody, she had inadvertently made herself the subject of his distrust. He remembered many years ago when the 27 had asked Dumbledore to send Potter to AIMS, stating that they were interested in him and would raise him as their own. Dumbledore had declined Tessra Jones's request at the time. It had been the first time the 27 Coven had meddled in British matters. Now that they were infiltrating Hogwarts, Dumbledore had worried about their potential influence on the boy. Was that Lyra Marks's secret mission—to bring Potter to their side, to have him transfer to America? What game was she playing?

"All I'm saying is there's something off about him...we need to keep an eye on him." Lyra hissed as they observed Moody humming along with the music, pretending to dance with an imaginary partner.

Snape scoffed. The notion was absurd. Moody was an Auror, and he was here on Dumbledore's request—to protect Harry Potter from precisely this kind of attention. Moody had no hidden agenda. He had apprehended too many dark wizards to ever be considered a suspect. Moreover, he was a core member of the Order of the Phoenix, a secret society that had fought against Voldemort in the last war. He had played a pivotal role against Grindelwald as well. His name was synonymous with heroism. While there were recent rumors of him losing his marbles, there was no indication that he would shift his entire belief system.

"Instead of constructing these theories in your head, I would advise you to focus on what your champion is up to." Snape suggested, casting a glance toward Sarah and Zeus kissing at their table. Lyra bit the inside of her cheek, her frustration building. She glared at Snape.

"She seems more interested in leading my mentee astray. I would recommend you advise her to keep herself in check, or she might jeopardize her performance in the next task. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have chaperone duties to attend to." He said, raising her hand to his lips.

With that, Snape turned and walked away, leaving Lyra fuming in place. He clearly hadn't believed a word she had said, and in return for her confiding in him, he had insinuated that Sarah was attempting to manipulate Zeus Shorthorn. If anyone was playing mind games, it seemed to be the Hogwarts team. Lyra didn't know what angered her more: her impulsive sharing of her thoughts with Snape or the fact that she hadn't had the opportunity to advise him to rein in his own mentee before he left.

Lyra left the great hall and made her way to the viaduct courtyard, seeking a moment of solitude to enjoy a cigarette. She contemplated leaving the unpleasant ball and retreating to her room.

As she observed young couples passing by, searching for a secluded spot to steal a moment away from the watchful eyes of chaperones, Lyra warned them about Snape's lurking presence. Gratefully, they acknowledged her advice and hurried off in search of more suitable hiding spots.

While she lit her cigarette, the sound of shuffling feet and agitated voices caught her attention. Instinctively, she pressed herself into a corner, concealed from the view of the two men who had entered the courtyard while engaged in a heated argument. Peering through the gaps in the wall's pattern, Lyra had a clear view of the two individuals—one was the tall, slimy-looking blonde she had encountered the previous day, and the other was Zeus Shorthorn.

"You must return home, Zeus...your parents insist!" The blonde man urged.

"I am of age now, and they certainly wanted nothing to do with me two years ago!" Zeus retorted defiantly.

"You must realize that something significant is about to happen..."

"I don't care about your plans, Uncle Lucius. I want no part in it!"

"That world is still yours, Zeus...you can't deny it as your brother did. Look where that got him!" Lucius snapped.

Zeus clenched his fists, pulling out his wand, ready to raise it against his uncle. Lucius Malfoy, however, drew his own wand.

"Shorthorn!" Snape intervened before Zeus could react.

"Your presence is requested by Professor Dumbledore inside." Snape stated as he approached the two men.

"Severus..." Greeted Mr. Malfoy curtly.

"Lucius..." Snape replied in kind.

Zeus glanced between the two men, clearly unsatisfied. He then turned to his uncle and spat on his polished black shoes.

"This is what I think of you, your Dark Lord, and your obsession with blood status. I'd rather die than be like you! If what happened to my brother is in store for me, I welcome the challenge. So, go and tell my father, or whoever sent you...to go fuck themselves!" Zeus snarled, storming away.

"What about the pretty American girl you're in love with...what shall we tell her father? Your brother's mudblood never received an explanation..." Lucius taunted.

"Stay away from her!" Zeus snarled, returning to confront his uncle with anger simmering in his eyes.

"Enough of this!" Snape snapped, directing a stern glare towards Zeus.

"I suggest you return to your date, I'm sure she's waiting for you..." He sneered at the young man, who reluctantly complied.

"He is your ward, isn't he? Talk to him...explain things. He can't deny his destiny, Severus...you and I both know that." Lucius implored Snape. He lifted his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark on his forearm. He attempted to yank at Snape's sleeve as well, but his tight coat prevented it.

"It's grown darker. You understand what that means, Severus! He's been calling us...I can sense it, too. We can't deny him any longer." Lucius pleaded desperately. Snape pulled away and discreetly covered the Mark on Malfoy's hand.

"Don't be a fool, Lucius!" Snape snarled in anger.

"I'm arranging to leave this country, possibly this continent. I suggest you do the same...I won't subject my family to the sins of my past. Severus... Dumbledore can't protect you forever...if the Dark Lord discovers that there are two who are disloyal to him..." Malfoy warned.

"Then why push the boy into a destiny he doesn't deserve..."

"I'm not forcing him to do anything...this was a warning...for both of you!" Malfoy said before turning and leaving Snape standing alone in the corridor, gripping the hand he had forcefully pulled. Snape eventually regained his composure and made his way back to the hall.

Lyra's mind was in disarray as she reentered the hall. She absentmindedly gravitated towards the one couple she always felt at ease with—her brother and her best friend. The parents of all the champions had received invitations to the Yule Ball and were present, celebrating alongside their children. Zenia seemed to have indulged in one too many glasses of champagne and was thoroughly enjoying herself, dancing with her daughter to the music of the Weird Sisters.

On the other hand, Michelin sat in a corner, his eyes fixed on his wife and daughter, especially on Sarah and Zeus, who seemed to be getting quite close, stealing kisses from each other. Michelin shot them a disapproving look and reached for his glass of champagne. Lyra slumped down beside him.

"Ugh! Just look at them! He's all over her, and Zenia seems to find him charming just because he knows the difference between a leaping toadstool and a mushroom. Honestly, it's not that hard!" Michelin grumbled, unaware that his sister was preoccupied and not responding with her usual witty comebacks.

"Lyra?"

"Lyra?!" Michelin called again, shaking her shoulder. Lyra looked at him, her face bearing a troubled expression.

"Merlin! You look like you've seen a Boggart! Are you alright?" Michelin asked, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah... I just..." Lyra hesitated, unsure of how to begin or where to start.

"Hogwarts isn't safe..." She finally declared.

"What? What do you mean?" Michelin asked urgently.

"There are Death Eaters here, Mich!" Lyra said, to Michelin's confusion.

"Death Eaters? Like Voldemort's followers?" He asked, his concern deepening. Lyra nodded and sighed.

"What exactly did you discuss with Lucius Malfoy yesterday?"

"Lyra...what? Lucius Malfoy? He was just making small talk with me about America. Do you think he's a Death Eater?" Michelin questioned.

"I don't think it. I know it. And Snape is too. I can't confirm it, but they seem to know more than they're revealing. And then there's Zeus Shorthorn..."

"What about Zeus Shorthorn?!" Michelin snapped urgently.

"I...I don't know...Malfoy mentioned something about Shorthorn going home, but the boy refused, and then there was talk about a brother...and Lucius Malfoy trying to escape joining the Death Eaters. I don't know how it all fits together, Michelin...all I know is that something feels terribly wrong. Tessra warned us at the Coven meeting earlier this year. She said darkness would soon engulf the world again. And she was right...you remember what happened at this year's Quidditch World Cup...how the Brits brushed it aside like it meant nothing!" She said, shaking her head.

"This...Dark Lord...plagued America the last time he rose to power..." Michelin murmured.

The Americans weren't as well-acquainted with Voldemort as their British counterparts, but fourteen years ago, when Voldemort was causing chaos in Europe, he had America on his agenda. There were many who had offered their support from across the sea as well. That meant America had been on high alert, but Voldemort hadn't been able to penetrate the American continent. The 27 Coven and MACUSA had worked together to keep him at bay.

They sat there as Lyra recounted what she had witnessed and heard in the hallway.

Michelin and Lyra watched as Sarah and Zeus danced happily together.

"That's it...she can't date him!" Michelin declared, getting up. Lyra held him back.

"Sit down...you can't just go up there and tell her she can't date him..." Lyra said. Michelin turned in frustration.

"Why not? I'm her father!"

"Michelin! She's in love with him...it's rather obvious...look at them!" Lyra offered softly.

Michelin clenched his jaw. His daughter's life could be at risk because of this Shorthorn fellow, and his sister wanted him to do nothing. He knew this kid was going to be bad news.

"I'll keep an eye on her. But if I know Sarah...she won't give this up that easily...she has a pure heart, Michelin. She may not understand the world as we do, but she needs to learn!"

"She's my daughter, Lyra...I can't lose her. It's my duty to protect her!"

"I'll make sure you don't. You know that, Mich!"

"I know...but what happens when you're not here!" Michelin replied darkly.

"What do you mean?"

"Yesterday, after you left, Sarah told me she had changed her career plans...that she wants to continue studying at St. Mungo's in London. Turns out, the little sneak has already secured an internship after she graduates." Michelin revealed, raising an eyebrow.

"Damn...she's good...when did she get so skilled at plotting these master schemes?" She added, shaking her head. They sat there contemplating the girl's future as Lyra sighed and decided to change the topic.

Lyra handed her brother a small package from her cloak.

"Here...Merry Christmas." She said, pushing it towards him. He frowned and unwrapped it to find a box containing gold cufflinks.

"Lyra...you shouldn't have..." He began, looking at her with a small smile.

"You deserve so much more, brother!" Lyra said, shaking her head.

They exchanged a loving look as he pulled her into a gentle hug. Lyra closed her eyes. She both loved and hated it when he hugged her like that. It always made her feel safe, but it also reminded her of the challenges he had faced because of her.

"I should probably get Zenia home..." Michelin sighed, shaking his head at his wife, who was clearly a little too inebriated. He headed toward the crowd.

"There...is something else..." Lyra began, stopping him in his tracks. She gave him an anxious look.

"What is it?" He asked urgently. She looked around carefully before speaking.

"I think...I've unlocked magic I can't control. It's starting to manifest, and I..."

"You mean...already? How's that possible? Doesn't it...take longer? Like months for signs to show? It's only been weeks!" Michelin said, worriedly. Lyra nodded and sighed.

"Did you talk to Tessra?"

"I did...and she said...I need to dial it back...take control of it...before it takes control of me..."

"Maybe you should take her advice, Lyra..."

"I would, but Michelin...I...I don't know how! Yesterday, after Grandma M kicked me out...I was trying to light a cigarette..." Lyra began explaining what had happened in the alley, but she fell silent as Zenia came bounding toward them.

"Are you two ever going to stop being so lame?!" Zenia joined them, her voice loud and exuberant. It wasn't that they wanted to keep their conversation a secret from Zenia, but when she was in this state, she could get extremely loud. They both knew that all too well.

Zenia grabbed another glass of champagne from the floating trays.

"I think you've had enough, Zee..." Lyra warned, taking the glass away from her friend. Zenia pouted sadly. Lyra rolled her eyes. It was rather ironic for her to stop someone else from drinking, but clearly, Zenia hadn't let herself go this freely in a long time.

"Stop being such a bitch, Lyra! Come on, let's find someone for you to hook up with!" Zenia exclaimed drunkenly, linking her arm through Lyra's and leaning on her for support.

"Zee...babe...come on...we should head back to the inn...get you to bed...we have an early Portkey to catch tomorrow." Michelin suggested, attempting to separate his wife from his sister.

"Oh... shhhhushh...Mich! Lyra...what do you think of that guy...nah, he's too old...what about that one...nah, he's too stuck-up...hmm...he'll do, Lyra...you like brunettes, don't you?" Zenia rambled loudly, pointing at different men as she scanned the hall.

"Zenia...you're drunk...you need to get to bed." Lyra scolded

"Oh...Oh...you've already set your sights on someone dark and brooding, haven't you? Are you getting rid of me because you want some alone time with Mr. Potions Master?" Zenia asked, laughing loudly. Fortunately, her voice was drowned out by the blaring music.

"Zee!"

Where on earth had she gotten that idea?

"Don't tell me it's not true...I saw you dancing with him...for three whole songs...he must be really special, huh? Give me the deets, Ly...come on! Is it finally real? Or is it just a sex thing? You know...he does seem like he's got a lot to unpack..."

"Zenia!" Lyra said warningly.

"Fine...don't tell me...tell your brother...but it's not like he doesn't tell me everything anyway!" Zenia slurred, rolling her eyes. She then enveloped Lyra in a hug, her head resting on Lyra's shoulder as Lyra held her tightly around the waist to prevent her from stumbling.

Michelin took control of his wife, placed a small kiss on Lyra's cheek, and gently led her away toward their lodgings.

Lyra cast one final glance at Sarah and Zeus on the crowded dance floor. The students were thoroughly enjoying themselves, and someone had even hoisted Professor Flitwick into the air, making him crowd surf, though he didn't appear pleased.

Lyra had decided to call it a night, eager to escape the stuffy atmosphere of the Yule Ball. She pulled off her gold hoops and kicked off the dreadful heels, sighing with relief as she felt her feet finally liberated. She made her way back to her quarters, passing many students who were taking advantage of deserted corridors and hidden corners.

"It was awful!" She whined out loud as she opened the door to her quarters, Burst, cocked her head curiously at her.

Lyra swiftly changed into more comfortable clothes, exchanging her elegant attire for some more relaxed muggle clothes. As she settled into her surroundings, her eyes fell upon a wrapped present resting on the coffee table. Intrigued, she picked it up and began to unwrap it. Inside, she found two items: a small book about the element of fire and its various applications in spellwork, and a beautifully ornate lighter. A letter slipped out from the book, and Lyra picked it up to read.

Merry Christmas! I have a feeling you'll find both of these to be of utmost use.

A smile played on Lyra's lips as she recognized the thoughtful gifts. It was clear who had sent them; someone who had likely witnessed her accidental surge of magic in the alley.

Lyra used the ornate lighter to light a cigarette and settled onto the couch. Burst flew over to join her, placing her long neck across Lyra's legs that rested on the coffee table. Lyra stroked Burst gently as she began to relax. However, the events of the night continued to replay in her mind.

Her deep contemplation was interrupted by the hushed exchange of voices from the corridor outside. Lyra stubbed out her cigarette and checked her watch. It was late, and the faint whispering was suspicious. She wondered if some students were audacious enough to choose the faculty tower for a secret rendezvous, but it wouldn't be the stupidest thing to do, considering that a significant portion of the faculty was still out chaperoning. Intrigued, Lyra decided to investigate.

"Don't be mad, Burst. I'll just be a minute!" She assured her annoyed phoenix, who looked at her in betrayal.

Lyra opened her door and peeked her head out, looking left and right. She spotted Ludo Bagman a few doors down, apparently drunk and having an heated discussion with someone. He had one hand stretched out toward an open door as he slurred his words.

"Come now...the night is young...we don't need to turn in yet..." He said, his speech slurred.

"I'm really tired, Mr. Bagman...I think it's best that I retire..." Came the reply.

It didn't take Lyra long to identify the woman's voice. She began walking towards them.

Lyra cleared her throat, and Ludo Bagman turned to look at her, his drunken gaze settling on her with a gleam in his eyes.

"Ah! Ms. Marks..." He greeted her with a suggestive tone.

"Mr. Bagman...it's late, what are you doing here?" Lyra inquired curtly, eyeing a harrowed-looking Minerva and then the very drunk Ludo Bagman.

"Just telling your aunt...how ravishing she looked tonight. In fact...she was just going to invite me in for a nightcap!" He smirked. Minerva, who had been patiently waiting, appeared affronted by Bagman's proposition.

"From what I heard, Mr. Bagman, I believe she wants to go to bed..." Lyra replied, giving him a pointed look. She reached out to remove his hand from the door, positioning herself between Minerva and Bagman.

"Exactly...my plan as well, Ms. Marks...but you're in my way..." He replied shamelessly, smirking at her.

"ALONE!" Lyra yelled, her patience wearing thin.

"Please return my cloak, Mr. Bagman..." Minerva demanded icily, her wand poking out of it.

Bagman glanced at the cloak in his hand, sighed, and then offered it to her. However, as Minerva reached for it, he pulled it away with a mocking laugh.

"You enjoy a bit of teasing, don't you, Minerva?" He chuckled foolishly.

"Mr. Bagman, you need to return her cloak immediately!" Lyra thundered at him.

"Oh, come off it, Marks...and do bugger off...can't you read the room? There's clearly something happening here...so get lost...and let the adults handle their affairs! No one asked you to interfere!" He snarled, getting far too close to her face. Their noses almost touched, and the pungent scent of alcohol on his breath filled the space between them.

Lyra's anger flared to its peak. However, she didn't instinctively reach for her wand. As she uncurled her fists, intending to push him away, something unexpected happened. Her hands ignited into flames when she made contact with him. Bagman fell to the ground, a look of sheer horror on his face. Her flaming hands had burned two holes through his cloak, jacket, and shirt, while gently charring the flesh on his chest.

"She's not interested! Give me the cloak and FUCK OFF!" Lyra demanded, the flames still dancing on her hands.

He just sat there looking shocked.

"NOW!" Lyra bellowed. Bagman, clearly shaken and in pain, left the cloak on the ground and scrambled away, rushing up a staircase as quickly as he could.

Lyra shook her hands vigorously to extinguish the fire, which left behind small burns on her skin. She picked up the cloak and turned to offer it to Minerva, who wore an aghast expression, clearly taken aback by what she had just witnessed.

With her jaw clenched and nostrils flaring, Lyra looked at Minerva with irritation. Minerva, in response, retrieved her wand from her cloak.

Lyra hesitated, unsure if she should voice what was on her mind. She simply nodded at her aunt and then began to walk away.

"Lyra...your hands..." Minerva finally spoke, holding onto one of Lyra's burnt hands as Lyra winced, turning back to face her aunt.

Sighing deeply, Lyra realized she wasn't quite ready to engage in the conversation about her fiery episode. Instead, she chose to address something that had been bothering her since lunchtime yesterday.

"What were you doing with the likes of him?!" Lyra snapped, her voice charged with frustration, as Minerva reluctantly let go of Lyra's hand.

"He's just drunk…"

"And could have forced himself on you…you literally gave him your wand!"

"He's harmless…"

"Clearly, not harmless enough! You were an auror…we never trust anyone with our wands! And you just gave yours away to him!"

"I…I wasn't expecting him to behave like that, Lyra. I didn't…ask for this!" Minerva snapped angrily.

"You…can trust…imbeciles like him…but you can't seem to trust the one man who's still clearly in love with you!" Lyra's words were pointed, and Minerva's expression darkened. She looked like she was about to explode.

"He told me…about how you were engaged to him…" Lyra continued hesitantly, aware of the bombshell she was dropping. Minerva's reaction was as expected – a fiery eruption.

"And did…did he tell you what he did after that?" Minerva's anger was evident.

Lyra's anger subsided as she faced Minerva's raw fury.

"He did…but…"

"And you stand here…telling me he's in love with me? You stand here defending…HIM?!" Minerva's voice quivered with anger and hurt.

"I am not…I am not defending him…I was just…"

"You were just what? I think you need a lesson in looking at the whole picture, Lyra. You think he deserves to be forgiven? He didn't just break our engagement that night…"

"He broke your heart…?" Lyra added slowly, showing empathy, but Minerva pulled back, her face hardening.

"You think I don't see him looking at me all the time? Do you think I'm blind? You think this is easy for me? Well, it's not! But I'm trying to move on." Minerva sighed, finally looking away from Lyra's intense gaze.

"I am not defending him. I told him he had been an idiot for someone as intelligent as him. I told him you are a force, Minerva. But he made a mistake…" Lyra offered softly, attempting to bridge the gap between them.

"He did." Minerva replied, her anger still simmering.

"He regrets it."

"Good."

"Then why won't you give him another chance?"

"Why are you so bothered by this?"

"Because I've made mistakes in love that aren't rectifiable…this…this is just you being stubborn!"

Lyra argued without elaborating on her own past, looking at Minerva as if she thought Minerva was acting irrationally.

"Don't speak to me about things you know nothing of, Lyra!" Snapped Minerva, her frustration mounting. Lyra couldn't resist rolling her eyes in response.

"You're in…love with him as well…you're just punishing him for something so trivial. Gallivanting with idiots like Bagman…"

"Goodnight..." Minerva said curtly, starting to close the door to put an end to the conversation. Lyra, however, was determined not to let her off the hook so easily.

"No…no…you don't get off so easily…"

Minerva pointed her wand at Lyra. Lyra was caught by surprise, her eyes widening as she looked at her aunt, who wore an expression of defiance. Minerva then lowered her wand and glared at Lyra with a mixture of broken pride and anger.

"I didn't ask for your help…I know how to take care of myself. He thought I couldn't either. And look where that got him."

"Minerva…"

"I don't think we should continue this conversation." Snapped Minerva, her resolve unyielding.

"And if I were you…I'd keep the fire in check before you manage to hurt someone!" Minerva added, anger still smoldering in her eyes, as she slammed the door in Lyra's face.

AN/- Hey Everyone, just wondering what you think of the story so far. Lots to come! Would love to know your thoughts. Please leave a review :) Thanks!