AN
Minor Character Death. But, like, off-screen. It's not that important.
June to July 1993, 2nd year and summer
Just before the exams were about to start, the mandrakes were finally ready and the unfortunate victims of the Basilisk were revived. Lynea wondered how they had managed to help Sir Nicholas, who had no solid body, but ultimately didn't have the courage to ask.
The exams themselves were fairly easy. Nothing to worry about. Hermione, of course, was absolutely brilliant and worried about things the others hadn't even known were possible answers – but that was Hermione for you.
"Now we only have Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration left," Lynea said, as the Slytherins were settling in the library for one last revision.
"Defence, huh," Pansy muttered.
"What's bothering you?" Lynea asked.
Pansy gave her a thoughtful look. "Do you think Lockhart will return next year? The school year is almost over and nothing has happened so far. He didn't meet an awful end, there was nothing that made him decide to resign, just … nothing."
"Are you talking about the curse?" Harry asked.
"Jinx," Pansy absentmindedly corrected. "There is still some time left and I guess the jinx could also take effect during the holidays, but that has never happened before, has it?" She tilted her head. "I think I will look into that, if only to put my mind at ease."
"Is it truly nagging at you so much?" Lynea asked.
Pansy raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to continue Defence lessons with Lockhart?"
"Goodness, no," Lynea said appalled. "I would like to finally learn something useful in that class, instead of having to teach myself and the others. It's especially annoying, because we have two separate study groups this year." She sighed. "It would be so much easier if we were just one big group. Like last year."
"You know that's not possible anymore, Lynea," Draco said softly.
Lynea could only sigh and drop the matter. He was right, unfortunately.
To everyone's surprise and certainly Pansy's delight, their Defence Against the Dark Arts exam was supervised by Professor Snape, who refused to answer any questions about Lockhart's whereabouts.
They wondered about this throughout what was left of the week until they eventually got their answer on Saturday morning when the post arrived during breakfast.
Pansy had snatched a newspaper from one of the owls and then loudly exclaimed, "Hah! I knew the jinx wouldn't fail me."
When she was certain she had everyone's attention, she continued, "Lockhart is missing. Looks like he packed all of his belongings at Hogwarts and then mysteriously disappeared." She then started reading out an article from the Daily Prophet.
Meanwhile, Lynea gave the barn owl that had landed in front of her a treat and opened the letter it had carried, while still listening to Pansy.
"Do you think it's another one of his marketing schemes?" Pansy asked the others, after she was finished with the article. "To make himself even more popular by pulling off some fake kidnapping stunt or something along those lines?"
"Could be," Millicent said.
"I don't he think he would just vanish like that," Tracey said.
Pansy's eyes shone with mirth. "Maybe the jinx held a particularly nasty fate for him in store."
"Please don't say that," Tracey said in exasperation. "He was a human being, after all – whether his stories were actually true or not."
"Do you still believe them?" Harry asked.
Tracey shrugged. "I think there is some truth to it, but he probably didn't do all he claims to have done."
Lynea folded her grand-aunt's letter and put it away, deciding not to tell the others that Lockhart had become another victim of the brutal murders of the Mutilatio serial killer(s). It was a confidential piece of information, because the Ministry didn't want people to know about the murders at all. They didn't want to cause panic, of course, but they also didn't want to let them know about their incompetency at catching the culprit or culprits – they weren't even sure whether it was a single person or multiple, nor how the victims were connected.
She left the others to their discussion about things that could have possibly happened to make Lockhart leave without telling anyone and poured herself another cup of tea.
There was only the Transfiguration exam left, now, and then the celebrations for Litha, before they would depart on the train for the summer holidays. Yet, there were still a few things that needed to be cleared up. Like a thrown vase, or a person a certain Dark Lord had acted through. The latter Lynea found out rather easily – she just went to Hermione and asked what she knew.
"Ginny Weasley," Hermione told Lynea and Harry. "She and I were both called to the headmaster's office where some strange woman had us undergo a magical examination."
Lynea remembered running into them outside of Dumbledore's office a few weeks ago. But Naenia hadn't been there.
"Mid-twenties, mostly white hair and sunglasses?" Lynea asked.
Hermione blinked. "Yes. How did you know that?"
"My grand-aunt took care of the matter. Although I am surprised to hear she cared enough to look after the victims."
"That's your grand-aunt?" Hermione exclaimed in disbelief, then shook her head. "She looked rather reluctant, like she didn't want to assure everyone of our well-being at all."
Lynea huffed. "That sounds more like it. So Ginevra Weasley had the diary before you?"
Hermione nodded. "The diary's magic left quite a mark on her, but no permanent damage apart from the mental scarring, if your grand-aunt's words are to be believed."
"She has a hand in everything, doesn't she, your grand-aunt?" Harry mused.
"Mostly," Lynea replied.
And mostly did not include the incident with the vase.
They actually went to Professor Snape first – Harry, Lynea, Draco and Pansy – but his investigation had turned up nothing so far, which made them feel validated in conducting their own. The perpetrator had not made a second attempt – or if they did, then it had gone unnoticed among all the other attacks on the Slytherins.
They were running out of time, but so was the person they were looking for. Throwing a black glass vase at an unsuspecting student seemed too crass for a patient person willing to wait for next year – unless Lucius Malfoy had instigated the whole thing, but Lynea highly doubted that – and it had happened even before it was revealed to the school that Harry was a Parseltongue. That meant, however, that the person could be after Harry for any reason at all.
They were running out of time. And that played in their favour.
Lynea recognized the Gryffindors that had cornered them in the hallway. They had thrown quite a few hexes their way over the years, but, most importantly, they had been responsible for the very first act of hostility Lynea and her friends had experienced as part of Slytherin House. They weren't the brightest of the bunch, she had already noticed that before. And letting Pansy and Blaise slip away was certainly not a very bright thing to do.
"Think you can get away, do you, Potter?" one of them sneered. "Think just because Dumbledore is turning a blind eye, we don't know it was you."
"Kenneth Towler," Theodore said quietly and the boy flinched. "Carl Hopkins. Cormac McLaggen."
Lynea let a smile overtake her face. Thank goodness for Theodore's knack for knowing names. She took a step forward and her smile widened as the Gryffindors took a step back. They were maybe one or two years older and rather bulky, yet they were still afraid of a bunch of tiny Slytherins.
"We know who you are," Lynea said in a low voice, still smiling. "We know what you did. There is enough evidence against you to get you expelled. So think carefully about your next words."
One of the boys, McLaggen, gulped and visibly steeled himself. "And you think we don't? We know what he is." He jerked his head in Harry's direction. "We know what he did."
"And what did I do?" Harry asked in an icy voice that made all three boys flinch.
"You opened the Chamber of Secrets," Towler said. "You tried to kill all the muggleborn students at Hogwarts."
He spit at the ground in front of Harry. Lynea raised her eyebrows at that, trying not to let her eyes wander over their shoulders.
"And that's why you threw a vase at me?" Harry asked.
Towler narrowed his eyes. "You de–"
"What vase?" McLaggen interrupted and let a feral grin overtake his features. "We know nothing about a vase."
Lynea raised a hand to play with her fringe, twisting the white strand around her fingers. She did not want to bring the Lémure name up unless absolutely necessary and she knew that the more often she did so, the more complicated her situation with the whole bloodline inheritance uncertainty became. But she did not want to think about that right now.
The three Gryffindors followed the motion warily, eyes fixed on her hair. Behind them, two looming figures with billowing cloaks and two smaller ones drew closer and closer.
"Oh, you know," Lynea said casually, "the black glass vase you threw at us down in the dungeons? We saw you. Well, Pansy, Draco and I did. Harry was too busy being in shock from nearly being killed."
"He was never in any danger," Hopkins scoffed. "We merely gave him a warning, filthy snake that he is. We knew what he was, even before he revealed himself to the school."
"So you admit to having thrown the vase," Professor Snape drawled and the Gryffindors froze, their eyes blown wide.
"What is the meaning of this?" Professor McGonagall demanded. "Ambushing younger students in the corridors. I expected better of you."
Lynea put a hand in front of her mouth to hide her gleeful smile as the two professors berated the Gryffindors for their behaviour. From the way Snape's eyes gleamed in the afternoon sun, she was fairly sure that they would be punished accordingly. No one threw a vase at his snakes and got off lightly.
Harry had seemed fine during their last days. He had already mostly forgotten about the vase before Towler and the others had confronted them and while he was glad that they had been reprimanded and punished (and would be punished some more, once the new year started), he didn't really seem to care overly much. He had other things occupying his mind and the nearer the train drew to London, the more distracted he got. It seemed like it finally truly sank in that he was not returning to the Dursleys, ever again. He was in a dazed state during the whole journey and still distracted when Lynea's mother greeted them on the platform. Phyllida only smiled kindly at him and apparated them home.
"We prepared Thelus' old room for you," Phyllida told Harry on their way from the edge of Naenia's property up to the house. "He can use the guest room, should he ever stay over. I think Theodore won't mind sharing with you, should they both be here at the same time."
"Will he come over during the summer?" Lynea asked.
Her mother raised an eyebrow. "Who? Thelus or Theodore?"
"Theodore," Lynea said and then shrugged. "Or either."
"I don't know about your brother, but Nereus didn't mention anything about leaving Theodore with us. At least not yet."
"I'm not sure I like that," Lynea said quietly.
Her mother gave her a sharp look, but didn't say anything.
"Is Theo's father often busy?" Harry asked.
"Kind of," Lynea said. "I don't know what is keeping him so busy that he has to drop Theodore at our doorstep so often, but I'm always glad to have him here. Theodore would say he prefers to stay with his father all the time, but I think he's actually not sure whether he really does."
"Is he –" Harry glanced at Phyllida and ducked his head, lowering his voice. "Does his father mistreat him?"
"He neglects him," Lynea said. "Theodore doesn't talk about his home, so I don't know if that is all. I hope it is. Neglection is bad enough on its own."
"And you can't do anything about it?"
Lynea gave Harry a sad smile. "Not without using force. My uncle won't be reasoned with and the Ministry won't do anything if we told them. And Theodore doesn't want to leave his home, either."
"I didn't want to leave," Harry said, "yet you showed me that I could."
"You did want to leave. You just thought you didn't have a choice. Theodore still loves his father. He doesn't blame him for anything and – Oh, Harry, I don't know. He doesn't want any help. I've tried. All I can do is to make sure he knows that he is always welcome here and that he feels comfortable whenever he stays over."
"Hurry up, children," Phyllida called, already waiting in front of the door. "I want Harry to get settled in before dinner is ready. We have some important things to discuss."
Lynea showed Harry to his new room and then went to her own to start unpacking. When Amelia called them to dinner, she retrieved Harry from his new room, noting how little personal items he seemed to possess, and they descended the stairs together. Lynea's mother explained some basic house rules to Harry – which rooms he was allowed to access and which he shouldn't enter (like the basement, unless Naenia explicitly told him otherwise), not to leave his things lying around, where to put his laundry, when meals would usually be served, that he was allowed to help himself to food from the kitchen and so on. At the last one, Harry's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't say anything.
"We will take you shopping in a few days, of course," Phyllida continued. "You are in dire need for a new wardrobe and proper glasses and I am sure you would like to pick up some personal items, as well. We also need to schedule a meeting with a healer at St. Mungo's for a medical examination."
Harry stared at her, his mouth hanging open. Then he visibly gathered his bearings and said, slowly, "You don't need to do all that for me. My friends already gifted me robes and I don't need anything else."
"That may be so," Phyllida said, "but you are a growing young man and your robes are already starting to show your ankles – and they will become considerably shorter over time. We are a respectable family and as a part of that family you shall dress accordingly."
Lynea wasn't sure whether to interpret the look on Harry's face as frightened or awed, maybe a bit of both.
"Is… Is the medical examination necessary?" he asked timidly, ducking his head.
Naenia, who hadn't said much until now, gave him a sharp look. "We will not force you, if you are uncomfortable with it. But from what Professor Snape has told me and what I have seen for myself when I was at you relatives' house, I think a medical examination would be wise. They have mistreated you your entire childhood. We do not want you to suffer permanent damage due to negligence on our part."
Harry nodded hesitantly.
They went over a few more things and then everyone retired for the evening. Naenia disappeared downstairs with her Inferi, Phyllida remained in the kitchen to clean up and Lynea led Harry to the living room where they could play some chess and chat before it was time to go to bed. As she took the chess set from the mantlepiece, Harry suddenly froze, looking at a particular picture sitting next to where the chess set had been.
"Is that…?"
"Tom Riddle," Lynea said.
Harry's mouth fell open. "He's… surprisingly handsome."
"He was," Lynea agreed. "Also charming and quite persuasive when he wanted to be. I won't presume to understand why Naenia was so close to him, when she was clearly aware that it was all a façade, that he was in truth power-hungry and evil and didn't care about anyone but himself."
"He did care," Naenia said softly.
Harry flinched and gave Lynea a wide-eyed look, but she only smiled wanly back at him. Her grand-aunt had a habit of dropping into conversations unannounced. Naenia, meanwhile, slowly entered the living room.
"In his own way," she said, "he cared. Although I am probably the only person he cared about, apart from himself." She picked up the picture and gazed at it for a moment. "They're fake. All the pictures I have of him are – made by magic, fashioned after my own memory of him. There is always something I am missing, no matter how hard I try to remember." She put the picture back in its place and sighed.
"Yes, he was power-hungry," she continued, "and so very selfish. In all of our lifetimes we were the only ones who saw and accepted the darkness inside ourselves fully. But we still had to make many compromises and in the end our friendship did not work out after all. We were and still are too fundamentally different."
There was silence for a few moments. Then Naenia shrugged and turned to Harry. "I need a few drops of your blood, so that I can include your magic as a permanent resident in my wards."
Harry stiffened, but obediently let Naenia make a small cut on his arm and collect some blood. He stared at her nonverbal, wandless use of magic as she let the blood float next to her and healed the wound with a light caress of her fingers. Then the Necromancer disappeared once more.
"Your grand-aunt is strange," Harry said in a strangled voice.
Lynea shrugged and then grinned at him. "Welcome to the family."