Chapter 6
Weighing Of Wands
After the meeting, Lyra decided to explore the castle.
"How do these kids ever get to class?" She wondered, navigating the twisting staircases of the school. The castle itself held an air of mystery, with its endless corridors, ghosts, and even a mischievous poltergeist. Lyra found a quiet spot near the courtyard, where she settled down to read a book she had borrowed from the library. The poltergeist seemed to take joy in pranking passing students, and when he noticed Lyra sitting there, he couldn't resist the opportunity to tease her.
"Oooo…bow your ickley heads low for the witch from the 27…but dear Miss American, can you fight a dragon or will you go up to heaven?" He jeered, crafting a nonsensical rhyme.
Lyra chose to ignore him, giving her wand a dismissive flick as if swatting a bothersome insect. Peeves yelped, clutching his bottom in agony, then floated away, hissing in pain. The onlooking students laughed heartily at Peeves's hasty retreat.
After spending her day engrossed in her book about Hogwarts, Lyra felt more acquainted with the castle's architecture and had even tried to memorized its labyrinthine layout. She made her way toward the Great Hall, eager for dinner. The hall was already abuzz with students and teachers, engaged in discussions about their day. Lyra approached Athena, hoping to sit with her, but was promptly redirected to join the mentors.
"I don't want to sit there…next to him..." Lyra hissed, casting a disdainful glance at the empty seat next to the abrasive professor she had encountered earlier.
"That will be your designated seat throughout the year, Lyra…"
"I'll go sit by Sarah, then…"
"You can't sit with the students!" Athena protested, her voice aghast.
"Anything is better than sitting next to Mr. Dark & Brooding over there…" Replied Lyra, her eyes briefly flicking to Snape, who was engrossed in a book as he dined.
"Just go…" Athena sighed in resignation.
Lyra rolled her eyes and made her way to the designated seat, pulling it back with a reluctant sigh. She felt his eyes on her as she took her place, and it was evident that neither of them was pleased with this seating arrangement.
Lyra glanced at the feast spread before her. The variety of dishes was staggering, unlike anything she had even seen at formal events held by MACUSA or the 27. She decided to keep her meal simple, choosing a piece of fish and some potatoes. She was mindful not to overindulge. She needed to stay fit enough to perform through the tournament. Knowing this also meant curbing her drinking and limiting her smoking to just one cigarette a day. Lyra also reluctantly acknowledged that she'd need to exercise daily, and a pristine lake she had spotted earlier seemed perfect for swimming.
Dinner itself was rather dull. Dumbledore sat two seats away from her, engaged in conversation with Barty Crouch, who seemed to monopolize his attention. At one point, Lyra caught Dumbledore's bored expression, and their eyes met briefly. He offered her a pained smile before returning to his discussion with Crouch.
Finally, the empty seat next to Lyra was occupied.
"Oh, thank Merlin!" Lyra whispered in relief. Minerva placed a stack of books on the table and settled down, her gaze curious as she fixed her eyes on Lyra.
Lyra beamed at her as Minerva took her seat.
"Finally, someone to talk to!" Lyra exclaimed. Minerva responded with a gentle smile.
"You can always find me if you need someone to talk to." Minerva reassured her. Lyra smirked.
"So, tell me…where does all this food appear from?" Lyra inquired, intrigued as Minerva explained the presence of secret house-elves within Hogwarts, ensuring the seamless daily operations.
"Have you not been introduced to your elf yet?" Minerva asked as she sliced a piece of steak on her plate.
"I get my own elf? Fancy!" Lyra smirked, sipping from the ever-refilling mead goblet in front of her.
"He comes with your quarters…" Minerva clarified.
"Quarter of what?" Lyra pondered.
"…Quarters…I meant…your rooms…"
"I get my own room? Sweet!"
"Uh…yes…where else did you think you'd be staying?" Minerva inquired, clearly taken aback by Lyra's assumption.
"Well…I thought I'd probably camp out at the inn in the village." Lyra replied nonchalantly.
"No…no…has Athena not taken you to your room yet? The mentors who aren't already residents at Hogwarts have been assigned rooms!" Minerva informed her, her tone conveying her surprise that Lyra believed she would stay off-campus.
"Yeah, Athena…clearly has more important things to deal with. Plus, I think she's had a rather terrible week with Sarah…with Tessra, and now me…she deserves a break." Lyra said with a sweet smile directed at her aunt across the table. Athena noticed Lyra's gaze and raised an eyebrow, silently inquiring about her intentions. Lyra, however, relished the moments of kindness that occasionally slipped through Athena's stern facade. Despite her strict demeanor, Athena conveyed her affection without needing to say much, and Lyra held great affection for her aunt because of it.
"Well, don't you worry, I will show you to your rooms after dinner." Minerva offered. Lyra smiled gratefully before returning her focus to her dinner.
Once she had finished, she excused herself to enjoy a cigarette. Minerva stated she would meet her outside the hall, so Lyra waited in a secluded corner. She observed the students as they left the hall, and Dumbledore soon emerged as well. He reached into his pockets, retrieving what appeared to be candy, which he promptly consumed. Lyra scoffed, believing he had lied about not smoking for years. This was clearly an attempt to cope with nicotine cravings by substituting them with candy, a strategy Lyra had tried, but it had only left her addicted to sweets.
Minerva emerged from the hall, trailing behind the headmaster. He immediately turned when he heard her voice.
"Albus…"
"This envelope arrived on my desk yesterday…Charlie Weasley has responded." She informed him, handing over the letter.
"I had a feeling he'd respond more promptly if you asked." He replied with a twinkle in his eyes. He opened the envelope, scanning its contents. Minerva watched him expectantly.
"Well?" She inquired.
"It appears…he has requested a list of our requirements."
"So, the first task is set?"
"It certainly seems that way."
"Do you not think it's risky to involve children with…"
"Not here, Minerva!" He interrupted, his tone firm but calm.
She clenched her jaw and muttered under her breath.
"Not here, Minerva…my foot…it's as if you won't listen to reason. You keep agreeing with the Ministry and their lackeys, and it's going to spell trouble for all of us. Potter's name showing up isn't a mere coincidence…he's just a child…he shouldn't be subjected to…"
He chuckled at her frustration, further infuriating her.
"It's not funny! You're offering Potter as bait…for some inexplicable reason…and all this chaos is because you won't stand up to Barty. If you'd just reprimanded him…he'd listen…" She scolded him feircely. He gazed at her for a moment with a nostalgic smile.
"I didn't say it was funny. And you know my stance…for the time being, we must allow these events to unfold to gain a better understanding, Min." He replied gently. Then, he paused. He noticed her expression tense when he addressed her by that name, a name he hadn't used in years. They exchanged a loaded look, and it felt as though more had been conveyed in that silent exchange than in their words.
"Minerva…I…" He began, taking a step closer toward her. She instinctively recoiled, avoiding eye contact. However, he extended a hand as if to touch her arm. She moved away, and he withdrew his hand as a group of giggling students walked past them, bidding them a cheerful goodnight. Minerva shot them a stern look.
"I have to assist Ms. Marks in settling in." She hurriedly announced, brushing aside his attempt at conversation. He sighed in disappointment, sensing that she was avoiding something he wished to discuss.
"Of course…but I…"
"Goodnight, Professor Dumbledore." She said before departing, leaving him behind with a sense of longing. He despondently watched her exit. Once again, he delved into his pockets for another piece of candy and began walking in the opposite direction.
Lyra observed their awkward exchange, keenly aware of the tension between Minerva and Dumbledore. What started as a seemingly normal conversation had quickly turned into something more, causing Minerva to withdraw abruptly. Whatever their history was, it intrigued Lyra, fueling her curiosity about the complex dynamics between the McGonagall sisters and Albus Dumbledore.
"Lyra…why are you hiding in the corner?" Minerva called out to her as Lyra crusher her cigarette under her boot.
"Apparently, I'm a bad influence…on the children, if they catch me smoking." Lyra replied, rolling her eyes. Minerva, who had maintained a stern demeanor, softened slightly.
"Perhaps you should consider quitting then." Minerva suggested.
"You sound just like my mom." Lyra scoffed dismissively.
Minerva pursed her lips and shot a sidelong glance at Lyra. They walked together through the enchanting castle, and Lyra seemed entranced by its wonders. She almost missed the brief but loaded look Minerva directed at her.
"So, what's the deal with you and Dumbledore?" Lyra asked bluntly. Minerva hesitated for a moment.
"He's simply stubborn and stupid." Minerva replied after a pause.
"You might be the first woman to call him that." Lyra laughed, trying to coax more information out of her. Minerva rolled her eyes and chuckled, possibly cursing Dumbledore in her thoughts.
"I mean, there must still be tons throwing themselves at him, even though he's much older now..." Lyra remarked, her tone tinged with amusement.
"Is that how it is with the American Dumbledore as well?" Minerva inquired, smirking.
Lyra clenched her jaw, realizing that Minerva wasn't interested in continuing the conversation. She didn't want her newly acquainted aunt to get the wrong impression of her. Athena knew her well, but Minerva didn't, and she found Minerva's strong personality intriguing, even though she knew very little about her.
They continued to climb multiple flights of stairs, and Minerva showed Lyra some important locations within the castle. Finally, they reached a corridor, and Minerva stopped by a particular door.
"We're here." She announced, turning to face Lyra, who had been gazing at the high ceiling. Minerva instructed Lyra to place her hand on the doorknob, which would recognize her touch and allow only her to open it. Following Minerva's guidance, Lyra unlocked the door, revealing a spacious living area.
Lyra entered the room, enchanted by its ambiance. It was clean, well-lit, and felt like a small yet expansive apartment.
"I assume it's not as luxurious as what the captain of the American Aurors is used to, but it's..." Minerva began teasingly.
However, Lyra was too absorbed in exploring the room to pay much attention. She checked out the bedroom and the attached bathroom with its large clawfoot tub.
"It's definitely a billion times better than my office desk!" Lyra quipped, opening the bedroom door and peeking back into the living area.
"Your…your office desk?" Minerva inquired with a slight frown. Lyra returned to the living room.
"Oh, yeah…I usually end up falling asleep there. I can't even remember the last time I went home…" Lyra admitted, half-speaking to herself. She pulled out her wand and ignited a roaring fire in the fireplace.
"Neat!" She exclaimed with a smirk as the room began to warm up.
"You don't go home?"
"Uh…not most days…I prefer working. It helps me keep my head screwed straight." Lyra explained, nonchalantly rubbing the back of her neck. She walked over to the window and opened it, revealing a breathtaking view of the grounds.
"The view is phenomenal!" Lyra expressed joyfully, leaning halfway out of the window.
"Yes, the faculty tower has its perks." Minerva chuckled, joining Lyra to admire the vista.
"So, the entire staff lives in this tower?" Lyra asked, seeking more information. Minerva nodded.
"The castle is so mystical...I almost wish AIMS was this magical. This place is even more beautiful than Ilvermorny! I would have loved to study here!" Lyra mused in wonder.
Minerva looked at her with a pained smile. It was a smile that Lyra couldn't quite decipher, and it faded as quickly as it had appeared.
"Well, you're here now." Minerva offered gently. Lyra nodded in agreement.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" Minerva exclaimed, shaking her head slightly.
She walked back to the center of the room and drew her wand.
"Dobby!"
With a loud crack, a house-elf named Dobby appeared. He wore a worn-out sock on his ears, a peculiar sight as house-elves typically didn't wear human clothes.
"Professor McGonagall…how can Dobby help?" He squeaked.
"Dobby, this is Ms. Lyra Marks. She'll be using these quarters for the rest of the year. I hope you'll assist her when she calls." Minerva said kindly. Dobby bowed and extended his hand to Lyra, who regarded it with a curious smile. Not wanting to disappoint the eager elf, she shook his hand with a friendly gesture.
"Dobby is pleased to meet you, Miss!"
"Likewise, Dobby...and thank you for offering your assistance. I noticed you've already organized my belongings. However, I should warn you...I'm a rather messy person." Lyra chuckled. This seemed to invigorate Dobby even more.
"Dobby isn't worried, Miss. Dobby has heard only great things about the American Dumbledore! A little mess means nothing if Dobby gets to help you!" Dobby exclaimed with enthusiasm. Lyra winced at his use of the name, causing his face to fall.
"Dobby didn't mean to offend you, Miss!" He quickly apologized, shaking his head as if he had made a grave mistake.
"It's alright, Dobby. Just call me Lyra." She reassured him kindly.
"That will be all for now, Dobby. Thank you." Minerva added.
Dobby bowed to both women before disappearing with another loud crack.
"What's with the sock on his ear?" Lyra inquired, her curiosity piqued.
"It's...it's a long story. Perhaps we can catch up sometime soon, and I'll tell you." Minerva replied, yawning slightly.
"Of course. I'm sorry to have kept you." Lyra apologized.
"No need to apologize. I'm glad I had the chance to meet you, Lyra. Feel free to visit my office in the evening if you like." Minerva offered kindly. Lyra accepted her invitation with a nod.
"Now, I must go. I have an early class tomorrow and first-year papers to grade. Those are never fun." Minerva said with a tired smile. Lyra bid her goodnight as Minerva left, closing the door slowly. She got one final glimpse of Lyra lighting a cigarette before the door shut completely. Leaning against it, Minerva sighed and closed her eyes, biting her lip nervously. After a moment, she regained her composure and made her way to her own quarters, just a few doors away.
The plan had been to sleep in late today and start training the following day. Lyra had never been an early riser, but her career as an Auror and her dedication to maintaining peak physical condition had forced her to adjust. Nevertheless, she couldn't say she enjoyed early mornings. Most of the time, the missions she undertook were physically demanding enough, but she knew that if she lingered in bed too long, she'd become lethargic and complacent. And that was something she couldn't afford.
However, Burst had different ideas. At the break of dawn, like clockwork, the large bird landed on her bed. Lyra was fast asleep, completely oblivious to the world. Burst, growing concerned, nudged her head to wake her, but her master remained unmoved. Frustrated by her inability to stir Lyra, Burst resorted to more drastic measures and clamped her beak firmly around Lyra's ear.
Lyra shot up in bed, jolted awake by the pain.
"ALRIGHT! MERLIN! BURST! You almost tore my ear off!" She snapped, now fully alert. Checking her watch, a birthday gift from her brother, she groaned.
"It's 6 AM, Burst!" She explained tiredly. The bird squawked indignantly in response.
"Alright…calm down, we're going!" Lyra said, yawning as she forced herself out of bed. She somehow managed to get dressed and made her way out of the castle, with Burst flying alongside her. The castle was eerily quiet, unlike its bustling daytime hours. Only a few ghosts and prefects patrolled the corridors in search of errant students. As Lyra pushed open the large entrance doors, she walked past the caretaker, who was snoring away in an uncomfortable armchair with his cat curled up on his lap. He stirred slightly as she passed, but his slumber remained undisturbed.
Dawn had not yet broken when they reached the lake. After a few attempts to acclimate herself to the frigid water, Lyra stripped off her faded AIMS sweatsuit and stood in her two-piece swimsuit. She gingerly entered the lake, the icy water sending a shiver down her spine. It took a few more tries before she managed to get used to the cold, aided by a warming charm. Lyra was an excellent swimmer, but she kept close to the surface, avoiding any unknown creatures lurking in the lake's depths. She swam laps for over an hour, following a predefined pattern she had charted. Finally, as fatigue set in, she floated on her back, watching as dawn's early light painted the sky over the distant mountains. Burst watched over her like a guardian angel, ready to swoop down if needed, a testament to the bird's unwavering loyalty towards her master. And of course, having saved Lyra's ass multiple times already during her dangerous missions.
After a few more minutes, Lyra decided it was time to swim back to shore. She dried off and dressed in her sweatpants using a quick-drying charm and another warming charm. Sitting by a large tree, she gazed at the sky as the sun emerged over the mountains, illuminating the world with its gentle warmth. It had been a long time since Lyra had taken a moment to do nothing, and watching the sunrise with a clear mind was a rare treat.
Movement in the distance caught her attention. She watched as Severus Snape emerged from the forest, clad in muggle clothes—a black jumper over a white shirt and jeans. In this attire, he didn't seem as intimidating as he did in his teaching robes. He carried a bag filled with potion ingredients, his face smudged with dirt, a clear sign that he had been foraging in the forest.
As Snape made his way back to the castle, Lyra noticed him pulling down his sleeves. It was then that she glimpsed a dark tattoo on his hand, the details too distant to discern. Clearly, he didn't want anyone else to see it.
Lyra stood up and brushed herself off. Burst had already taken to the sky. She started walking back towards the castle, following Burst's lead. The mysteries of this school and its inhabitants deepened with each passing day. Lyra couldn't help but wonder how anyone managed to get any real work done in this place.
A few hours later, Lyra scrutinized herself in the mirror for the tenth time. She had to dress formally for the upcoming ceremony, which meant putting on her white cloak. She had never been fond of the customary 27 Coven robes – all white with speckles of gold weaved in. Thankfully, they had modernized certain elements for comfort. Lyra stood before the mirror, tsking at her reflection. She had always preferred darker colors, and the white robes made her already bright hair appear even more striking. Her attire for the ceremony was a sleeveless white jumpsuit, cinched at the waist by a black belt that held her wand on one side and a small silver dagger on the other. Lyra then draped her white cloak over her shoulders, fastening it with the gold chain that resembled a cape more than a traditional cloak. The coven's crest adorned the front top left side, intricately embroidered in gold. Gone were the days of long flowing white robes with a vest and the 27-cloak layered on top. Now, most members opted for any white clothing, although Lyra had only found this jumpsuit and a knee-length dress in her wardrobe.
There was symbolism behind the attire – white symbolized goodness and purity, echoing the coven's motto: Magic for Good. Black represented strength through grounding, while gold elements emphasized potential and power. The wand was always positioned on the right side, symbolizing that magic should only be wielded for righteous purposes, while the silver dagger, an ancient relic carried by every member, served as a stark reminder of protection against dark creatures such as werewolves. In a bygone era, the Firsts had battled these afflicted beings, once deemed feral, to ensure the safety of the wizarding world.
Despite the commendable deeds of the Firsts, their beliefs often seemed antiquated to Lyra, resembling the notions of a group of old-fashioned farts. She couldn't help but ponder how they might react to the contemporary reality of werewolves and vampires coexisting with wizards.
The cloak itself was a marvel of craftsmanship, adorned with intricate patterns of delicate threads dipped in shimmering gold. These golden motifs were rumored to possess alchemic properties, enhancing the fabric's ability to shield its wearer from the evil forces of dark magic.
Yet, as Lyra looked at herself once more in the mirror, she couldn't shake the feeling that she appeared ridiculous in her formal attire. With a resigned sigh, she departed from her room, making her way toward the classroom where the wand-weighing ceremony was scheduled to occur.
Eyes followed Lyra as she strode through the castle corridors. She clenched her jaw, convinced that the stares were due to her somewhat unconventional attire. As she entered the classroom, she quickly shut the door behind her. She had arrived earlier than expected, she realized, checking her gold watch. Although it was only by a slight margin, she took her place in a corner near the others who had also noticed her arrival.
Athena, Dumbledore, and Karkaroff stood there, dressed in official robes, each holding their school's crest. They were engaged in conversation with an elderly man who wore a kind smile – presumably the wand maker and master of the ceremony. Nearby, Barty Crouch, Ludo Bagman, and Minerva were engaged in their own discussion. Ludo Bagman seemed to be flirtatiously persistent in his conversation with Minerva, making her laugh, while Barty Crouch, on the other hand, shot cold, disdainful glances at someone. All were dressed in official robes that were noticeably not more formal than Lyra's attire.
There was also a woman, her tight green robes adorned with silver buttons and black fur trimmings, standing apart from the rest, talking animatedly to an excited, balding photographer. It was the same woman that had incurred Mr. Crouch's wrath with his disapproving glares.
Lyra waited patiently, leaning against a desk. She reached into the inner pocket of her cloak and retrieved her silver cigarette case. Selecting one, she began to light it. The woman in the tight green dress approached her with what appeared to be a notebook and a quick-notes quill hovering nearby. The photographer followed closely, capturing an image as Lyra attempted to light her cigarette.
A flash of frustration crossed Lyra's face at the blinding light of the camera. She held a particular disdain for journalists. However, in this case, Lyra knew she had to be accommodating. Athena had informed her about the "small" article to be written in the Daily Prophet about the tournament and the champions. So, Lyra decided to play along.
"It appears that the ladies are the only ones punctual today!" The blonde woman declared loudly, her comment a thinly veiled jab at the tardy male attendees. Some of the others grew worried by her remark, and shuffled their feet anxiously.
"Cigarette?" Lyra offered the journalist, who seemed duly impressed.
"Oh, no, thank you. I don't smoke." She replied, Lyra nodding and placed her case in her cloak pocket. She lit her cigarette, her attention caught by the photographer moving away to a corner to indulge in his own smoke.
"Ms. Marks, I'm Rita Skeeter, the official..."
"Reporter for the Daily Prophet?" Lyra finished her sentence as Rita beamed at her.
"I was briefed...Lyra Marks. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Lyra said, extending her hand. Rita shook it with an air of sophistication, her shrewd smile never wavering.
"I must say, when I heard that the AIMS champion had chosen you as her mentor, I couldn't believe you'd actually accept!"
"In all honesty, Ms. Skeeter, the AIMS champion happens to be my niece. There was no way I could refuse." Lyra responded, her voice laced with sincerity.
"Oh, how heartwarming! She must consider herself fortunate to have such an illustrious witch as her aunt. You must be her role model!" Skeeter gushed. Lyra simply nodded, acknowledging the compliment.
Her, a role model, for Sarah? Lyra hoped not.
"You know, Ms. Marks, I'll let you in on a little secret. I've been following your career closely for years now. In fact, I was the one who coined your very popular nickname– 'The American Dumbledore.'"
Lyra had momentarily zoned out, but Rita's statement brought her back to reality. Her hand clenched into a fist, but she managed to keep her composure, though her fake smile faltered slightly.
"I see. Thank you. I'm...uh...flattered..."
Before their conversation could continue, Mr. Crouch's stern voice interrupted them.
"Ms. Marks..." He barked, Lyra was grateful for the interruption. She crushed her cigarette butt under her black heels.
Rita Skeeter moved away, haughtily making her exit, after being abruptly cut off by Mr. Crouch.
"Mr. Crouch?" Lyra inquired calmly.
"We seem to be running behind schedule. Given that it's a school day, our champions are likely stuck in their classes. I'm dispatching a few letters to their mentors. I suggest you bring your niece here as well, so we can commence the ceremony." Mr. Crouch ordered. Lyra nodded and glanced at Athena for confirmation.
"Double Potions, I believe..." Athena confirmed, expecting Lyra's next question.
Lyra nodded and left the small classroom, making her way toward the dungeons. She easily located the potions classroom, where the poltergeist was causing a ruckus by banging on cauldrons. His presence dispersed as soon as he caught sight of her, leaving the cauldrons clanging to the stone floor. Grumbling under his breath, as he floated away.
The classroom door stood closed, and Lyra pushed it open, revealing Sarah with half of her head submerged in a bubbling cauldron. As the attention of the students and the displeased gaze of Professor Snape fell upon her, Lyra strode into the room, her entrance commanding notice.
"Yes?" He sneered, his tone dripping with condescension.
Lyra met his gaze, her expression unwavering, and chose to remain silent. Instead, her focus shifted to Sarah, whose head remained submerged in the cauldron.
"I suppose you don't teach basic cauldron safety…" Lyra muttered under her breath as she gently pulled Sarah's head up, finally capturing her niece's attention.
"Pack your things." She instructed firmly, her eyes locked onto Sarah, who returned her gaze with a mix of anxiety and relief. Then, she turned her attention back to Professor Snape.
"Ms. Marks, you are blatantly disrupting my class...this is not your office, where you can parade your power!" Hissed Snape threateningly, his hand inching toward the wand on his desk. Lyra turned to face him, meeting his hostility with an unflinching blank stare. She hoped it was enough to unnerve him, noticing the subtle movement of his hand toward his wand.
"I am only here to collect the AIMS champion for the wand weighing ceremony." She replied calmly. A spark of recognition flickered across Snape's face as he glanced at Sarah, eventually offering a brief nod of acknowledgment.
Lyra patiently waited by the table while Sarah scrambled to tidy her appearance.
"Merlin, could you hurry up?" Lyra urged her, the urgency evident in her hissed words. She removed her wand from her belt, her deft wand work transforming Sarah's unruly blonde hair into a neat bun, which hovered in place above her head. In the process, Lyra accidentally knocked over a nearby cauldron, causing its contents to spill onto the floor.
Lyra swiftly turned toward the two boys at the station, her expression apologetic.
"Oh...shit...I'm really sorry about that!" She said, her wand movements restoring the cauldron to its place over the fire.
"Potter, what are you still doing here? Snape, you and Shorthorn are required at the classroom...we're very late!" Growled Moody, entering the classroom and taking charge. He was dressed in his auror uniform, which appeared a bit snug.
He seized Potter by the collar and forcefully escorted him out of the classroom.
"That will be a T for you, Potter...unless Longbottom can manage a semi-decent potion." Snape snarled loudly, his gaze lingering on Lyra.
"It wasn't his fault...it was mine...don't fail him." Lyra insisted firmly.
"Be that as it may, Ms. Marks...please refrain from telling me how to teach my class!" Snape retorted.
"Teach? Is this what you call teaching? Shoving them in a dark room and pitting them against each other?" Lyra challenged, her eyes locked with his, a simmering tension between them.
"You clearly shouldn't be anywhere near a laboratory..." Snapped Snape.
"Perhaps you should consider your own words more carefully!" She snarled back.
"Watch yourself!" He snapped threateningly.
Their glares clashed fiercely before Snape eventually declared.
"It would be best if you'd mind your own business, Ms. Marks. For the rest of the you, please label your vials. Longbottom, if you and Potter expect a grade, then I suggest you stay back and create a new batch of Wiggenweld, and place it on the table before the rest exit the dungeon. AND DON'T BURN MY CLASS DOWN! Mr. Shorthorn! Let's go!" Snape barked, and he and Shorthorn quickly exited the room.
Lyra clenched her jaw, her ire still smoldering. Observing Potter's lab partner, who appeared utterly distraught, she also noticed a bushy-haired girl approaching to comfort him.
"I'm really sorry, Neville. Lyra...shall we go?" Sarah apologized sincerely and then turned to her aunt.
Lyra plunged a hand into her cloak's inner pocket, delving deep inside as the students watched her with surprise. She reached in so far that her entire arm disappeared within the small pocket. Retrieving something, she smirked and pulled out a vial of Wiggenweld. The trio gazed at her in astonishment.
"Here...it's my last one...but I'm sure I can get some more...just stick your name on it." Lyra said, offering the vial to Neville, who accepted it gratefully.
"I am really sorry that you have such a bastard—terrible...uh...person for a professor." Lyra said, smirking at Neville, who chuckled nervously at her choice of words.
With that, she collected her niece and left the laboratory, in a rush.
"That was really nice of you, Ly!" Sarah said as they entered the small classroom, which now held the required personnel.
"I'll have to write to your mom about sending in some more." Lyra mentioned, her tone filled with warmth. Sarah smiled at her aunt's kindness.
"Ah! The AIMS team is finally here!" Said Mr. Bagman happily. The room's attention shifted to the two women. He gestured for them to join the group. Lyra and Sarah took their place alongside Potter and Moody as they listened to what Dumbledore was saying.
"Everyone…this is England's most renowned wand maker, Mr. Garrick Ollivander. Some of you have heard of him. However, for those who may not know him, his family has practiced the art of wandlore for centuries. In fact, I hardly know of any British witches or wizards whose wands have not been bought at Mr. Ollivander's shop in Diagon Alley." Dumbledore said with a warm smile as he introduced the wandmaker.
"Mr. Ollivander, shall we commence the ceremony?" Dumbledore inquired politely, to which the short wizard tipped his top hat in acknowledgment. He began addressing the group.
"Hello, champions and mentors…the weighing of wands is a ceremony that marks the beginning of the Tri-wizard tournament. Since your wands are the most powerful tools you will need to secure victory, we must ensure they are in top condition. Shall we start with…Mr. Krum?"
Krum stepped forward and offered his wand to Mr. Ollivander, who examined it with a discerning eye and appeared content with it.
"Now, you see in front of you three items, Mr. Krum. Please select one—either the bird, the flower, or the ribbon—and demonstrate a spell of your choice," Mr. Ollivander instructed. Krum selected the ribbon and charmed it to perform his renowned Wronski-Feint.
Mr. Ollivander repeated this process for the other champions and their mentors.
"Ms. Lincolns, your wand, please…" He asked politely, and Sarah retrieved her wand from her blazer, handing it over to him.
"Aspen…unicorn hair…must serve you well with your charm work, I believe…" He noted, smiling at Sarah. He studied the wand for a few moments before returning it to her. Following the others, Sarah chose the ribbon and performed a graceful and unique color-changing charm.
"Most lovely!" Mr. Ollivander praised.
"Ms. Marks?" He then turned to Lyra, who was still admiring the colorful charm her niece had placed on the ribbon.
Lyra extracted her wand and handed it over to Mr. Ollivander, who examined it as though it were the most delicate and precious object he had ever held.
"Twelve-and-a-half inches, ash wood, and…I can't quite tell…this wand…"
"This wand is specially customized, with ingredients that are not the most common..." Lyra explained simply, her gaze fixed on the wandmaker.
"My…uh, brother…had a penchant for wandlore when he was younger. He believed in crafting wands based on personalities." She added.
"Dad…can make wands?" Sarah whispered in surprise, her eyes wide as she looked at Lyra.
"Long ago, you were too young to even remember this. You know how they say the wand chooses the wizard…I was a little careless with mine. My previous wand was hazel and dragon heartstring…twelve-and-a-half inches. Nasty thing. However, during a mission…it broke in half. I still have a splinter stuck in my left hand." Lyra explained, showing her hand to Sarah.
"Hazel wood…is not conducive for people who are estranged from their emotions…" Mr. Ollivander added curiously, examining Lyra carefully. Lyra scoffed.
"That year…Michelin…my brother…crafted this for me. It's a mix…made with woods from the ash and flame trees, fused with the essence of fire poppies. The core comes from my Phoenix, Burst. She only ever presented us with three usable feathers. He made three wands with it—one for me, one for his wife, and one for his daughter." Lyra explained, her gaze now fixed on Sarah.
"My…wand…isn't…we bought my wand from Wolfe's. You were there! He kept asking you to get one of his makes!" Sarah said, shaking her head in confusion. Her wand contained unicorn hair, not phoenix feather.
"Yes…well…yours lays buried with our old dog Sal…because you demanded a proper wizard's burial for him. Don't you remember…there was a wake and all! You remember that, don't you, Athena?" Said Lyra, looking at Athena, who was laughing silently in the corner and nodding her head.
"WHAT! I…But I was five!"
"Not the most reasonable five-year-old…or seventeen-year-old at that." Commented Lyra, prompting a small chuckle from those in the room as Sarah exhaled in disbelief.
"Flame tree wood isn't one…I have ever heard of being used before…but ash wood…makes for the most powerful wands indeed…loyal to the core…made for those stubborn in their beliefs…stubborn but not arrogant…" Mr. Ollivander mused aloud.
"Not arrogant?! She's anything but arrogant!" Sarah scoffed.
"The world may believe that, Ms. Lincolns…but if that were the case…the wand would have defied your aunt a long time ago…" Chuckled Mr. Ollivander, a hint of admiration in his eyes as he gazed at Lyra.
He returned Lyra's wand and then gestured for her to choose one of the three items, just as he had with the others.
Lyra surveyed the options and decided on the flower. She raised it gently into the air and then set it ablaze, allowing it to descend gracefully. She caught the flame in her hand and tapped her wand over it. When she opened her palm, what would have been a burnt daisy had transformed into a stunning dandelion. She blew the dandelion seeds gently towards her niece, who watched the magical display in sheer amazement.
"Magnificent…a powerful blend of charms and transfiguration. I can see why your brother chose to mix these woods. It seems he's well aware of your multiple talents." Mr. Ollivander marveled, his eyes following the drifting dandelion seeds. His gaze then settled on Lyra as she gracefully returned her wand to her belt.
"A handpick by the leader of the 27 Coven…I can certainly understand why now." He said with a soft smile, his eyes filled with wonder as he looked at her.
Lyra blushed gently, realizing she might have shown off a bit too much.
AN/- Reviews would be much appreciated :)