Her Mother's Daughter

by galaxyofnowhere

Before Lyra's 18th birthday, she made a decision with the heaviest burden. She placed her wand on her Aunt Cissy's nightstand and turned her back, no longer wanting to be haunted by her mother's reflection. London was her safe place hidden among muggles until mummy came calling for the daughter she missed so much. With no wand, the only protection comes from the boy she once loved.

1. Prologue

Prologue

8th November 1975

1:47 Am

Ptomly named the tiny constellation in the sky Lyra many moons ago. The myth behind Lyra was nothing short of boring as Lyra simply came from a lyre. The lyre of Orpheus to be exact. The Black family cherished names from the sky that hold meaning of myths and lore originating from the Greeks. They pick from the book, or perhaps the book picks for them. Born early, Lyra was tiny and creature-like, screaming for the comfort of her mother's breasts. Unfortunate for Lyra, the mother who birthed her did so out of necessity rather than love. The sex that conceived her was a chore. Done quick without all the frills.

The sarcastic, vile woman who carried her for nine months, hissed in spite that, "if it was going to be this tortuous, I would have picked a more pleasurable mate!" A cool rag was dabbed along her clammy forehead.

Her younger sister kneeled at the bedside, "the midwife says anytime now, Bella. You must be patient." Patient? What had Cissy understood about patience? Bellatrix Lestrange was going on her 21st hour of contractions that were so horrid a potion had failed to ease her.

While she lay tortured, on the other side of the door, her husband paced. Unlike his bitter wife, Rodolphus was feeling a sense of anxious anticipation. Whenever Cissy left the room, he'd stop her and ask if there was any news. A son. He hoped for a son that he could raise into a man of honor. A good Lestrange man. One who was tall as he, dignified as he, pureblood as he, and arrogant as he. Then maybe, just maybe when the Dark Lord succeeded, he and Bella could live as a family. A far stretch for a man with a loveless wife.

In the room, the midwife examined Bella, clearly concerned for the state of the baby. She stood, and sighed, a tint of sadness in her eyes. "I would prepare for the worst." She went to leave when Cissy asked for clarification. Pausing at the door, "the child may not make birth, never mind her first minute."

Cissy stood, the life draining from her face, "do not tell the father…not yet." She looked over at Bella, "did you take your medication as directed? Bella! Did you? Is this a rotten joke to you? A child? Not a woman yet in the Black family has failed in childbearing!" She had been convinced her sister sabotaged her pregnancy in the name of spite.

But Bellatrix Lestrange had been just as shocked, feeling her chest sink into her stomach. Was it true the oldest Black sister despised having to birth a child? Of course. But it was the duty of a pureblooded woman. Especially one with as must prestige as her. With that news, Bella wanted to pull out the fetus and throw it as it was just as useless as a squib. The midwife changed the sweaty towel and when she moved Bella's hips, there was a jerk that ended with a long, ear-splitting cry. The midwife quickly kneeled before her legs and instructed her to push.

The contractions may have lasted hours, but the birth itself was short and brutal. Cissy wanted to put the pillow over Bella's mouth to muffle out the screams as she did not calm until the baby pushed out. When one stopped screaming, the other burst into cries! "A girl," the midwife said, smiling as she cleaned the baby and handed her over to Bellatrix. There she was named Lyra Druella Rodolphus Lestrange.

Rodolphus heard the screams and cries, and Cissy was quick to come out. She knew the proud man wanted a son. So much so he was convinced it was a boy. Even as Bella had already birthed a girl, he asked, "is my boy healthy?" Cissy halted, the word 'girl' stuck in her throat. Rabastan Lestrange walked to his brother's side, knowing that Cissy's expression meant other news.

"What is it, Narcissa?" he asked.

She straightened herself, "Lyra was born at 1:47-"

"A girl?" Rabastan clarified.

"A girl," she confirmed and looked over at Rodolphus who was quick to walk in. Bella had been holding the baby, looking half dead. He snatched the child from her arms and held it up, looking over it as it cried.

He wanted to say we will try again, but Lyra already looked so much like a Lestrange. He could not dismiss his blood so easily, and therefore relaxed, cradling it within his arms. It was at that moment that Lyra became a daddy's girl. "You will be the most beautiful girl in Britain."