November to December 1993, 3rd year
The art of creating a flawless Inferius was very complex and required skills in dissection, embalming and, of course, Necromancy.
Lynea had observed and partaken in a number of autopsies, had dissected animals under Naenia's watchful eyes and learned how to stitch them back together, leaving no mark whatsoever. She had learned to be precise, had learned where to make the cuts and how deep to gain access to all the organs that needed to be prepared with magic (or chemicals, if you went the Muggle way). Lynea had learned a lot through working with real corpses.
Mortui vivos docent. The dead teach the living.
One of the most delicate processes was opening the skull and preparing the brain, but that alone was not enough to make a perfect Inferius. Rot and decay were one issue, magical deterioration another.
Creating an Inferius in and of itself was easy. It didn't even require an affinity for Necromancy – one just had to perform the right ritual, though being a Necromancer didn't even require that. Creating a perfect Inferius, however, was complicated.
Only a perfect Inferius could act autonomously, maintain its body automatically, requiring nearly no maintenance, and bear a striking resemblance to a living being. The Lémures' Inferi were the most advanced you could find in the wizarding world. They were even able to think for themselves. Except for the eyes, no one had ever managed to get the eyes right – not even Naenia, who had been conducting her own research in addition to the one the rest of the family had already been doing for hundreds of years.
The door to the dormitory opened, interrupting Lynea's time alone and Daphne entered.
"There you are," she said. "Blaise has been looking for you."
Lynea sighed and put away the book Naenia had sent her as a birthday present. She gave Choco, who was stretched out beside her, one last pat and then rose from her bed.
"Do you know why he is looking for me?"
Daphne shook her head, picking up a book of her own and settling down on her four-poster.
When Lynea entered the common room, Blaise was leaning onto the back of the armchair Draco was currently occupying. Most of their year had assembled to watch Draco and Tracey play a fierce game of chess, accompanied by low cursing and loud grumbling. Only Daphne and Theodore were absent.
Lynea joined Blaise and watched the game over Draco's shoulder for a while.
"Hello, darling," Blaise murmured and took her hand to brush a kiss over her knuckles.
"How many rounds have they played?" she asked quietly.
"Five." The corner of Blaise's mouth quirked up. "And Draco lost the last three of them."
"This one might go either way," Lynea said.
She wasn't very good at the game, herself, but she knew the rules and she had watched enough matches to recognize a losing side by now. Most of the time, anyway.
Blaise inclined his head. "For now."
It took several more turns until Draco let out a quiet noise of triumph.
"Mate in three," he said.
Tracey sighed and nodded, then extended her hand so Draco could shake it. Then they instructed their chess pieces to take their starting positions again.
Blaise indicated for Lynea to follow him and they went to a more private corner of the common room, still keeping the chess players in their line of sight.
"I do not make a habit of putting my nose into other people's business, not like Pansy likes to do," Blaise said. "However, it seems that in this case, I have to, as it seems like none of the others have realized. May I be frank with you without fearing any consequences?"
Lynea nodded, but said nothing and waited patiently for Blaise to get to the point.
"You have turned fourteen, yet you have not made a decision regarding your inheritance."
Among those born with uncertain allegiances it was custom to make a decision at the age of thirteen. Or have a decision made for them. Thirteen was the age were most pureblood children started taking on more responsibilities and slowly integrating into the household. There was no need for Lynea to do so, because she was in a rather unique situation. She wasn't even the oldest child.
"I have not," Lynea said, "because I have nothing to inherit from either of my families."
And because she had deliberately not thought about it. There had been enough things to keep her occupied – getting Harry out of the Dursley's house, Tom Riddle's Diary, some serial murders in-between, settling Harry into his new home, the threat of Sirius Black, and Dementors.
"Except for social standing and influence." Blaise arched one eyebrow. "And we both know how important those are in our world."
"There was never a decision to be made," Lynea said. "Just because Draco took insult at me standing below him and had to drag my relation to the Lémures into it …" She shook her head. "I am a child of the Fawleys, blood or not, and that is it."
"Yet your father, the adopted son of the Fawley family, resides in Azkaban. I am frankly surprised your mother has not divorced him, yet."
Lynea was not. Her mother had never even entertained the idea. Although she might do so in the future, given how she was slowly changing ever since they had moved into Naenia's house.
"You have no connections to the Fawleys left, other than your grandmother and her husband. Their main branch is completely separate from you. What are you going to do, should your mother make use of her right for a divorce?"
Lynea remained silent. If her mother divorced her father, then she would take on her maiden name again – the Nott name. Thelus was of age and could decide for himself whether to keep the Fawley name or take the Nott name. There was no need for the latter other than dissociating himself from their father. Unless something happened to Theodore, heir of the Nott family, in which case it would benefit Thelus in taking over.
Lynea was the second child and had no use for either the Fawley nor the Nott name. She technically had no right to the Lémure name unless the head of the family, her grand-uncle Orcus, explicitly granted it to her. Which he probably would, if Naenia asked, now that Lynea thought about it. Lynea had already proven herself to be proficient in Necromancy and the Old Magics, although she was not as good as the Lémures, because she had not been taught those branches of magic from birth.
Lynea did not want to take the Lémure name.
"I don't know," Lynea said. "Fawley or Nott, it doesn't matter."
"And Lémure?" Blaise asked, his eyes sharp. "Everyone knows you are one of them."
Lynea closed her eyes.
"You are deliberately creating an imbalance in the dynamics of our house, Lynea," Blaise continued. "Half the time we don't even know whether you want us to defy you or to defer to you and I think you're not even sure yourself. You will only make it worse for everyone, should you keep this up into adulthood. Everyone has their place in our society, even reclusive loners that rarely make an appearance in public."
"You want me to recognize my status as a Lémure," Lynea said flatly.
"Or revoke it entirely. There is no in-between."
Revoking her Lémure blood meant giving up the privilege to live with Naenia. Lynea would still be a Necromancer – that was simply her nature. But the Lémures had set rules. Naenia had only taken Lynea and her family in in the first place, because Lynea was related to her by blood and displayed an aptitude for Necromancy. Naenia would not throw them out, but it would still complicate matters unnecessarily. And the white strand in Lnyea's hair was a Lémure trait, not a Necromancer trait. Lynea would still be marked as a Lémure.
She sighed. "There is still time. Draco's little stunt at the beginning of first year has kept us in a balance so far. Even with the rest of Slytherin."
"Only just," Blaise said. "And it is a fragile balance." He shook his head. "I do not understand why you are so reluctant to accept that name."
"Because I am not worthy," Lynea said and she was relieved to hear how steady her voice was. "Being a Lémure means so much more than performing Necromancy and standing at the top of the hierarchy. Being a Lémure is a heavy burden laden with responsibilities that extent far beyond anything you could ever imagine – for everyone who is part of the family. The Lémures have no heirs. They have a Head of House and whoever out of their children ensures that the bloodline continues shall take that title next."
"But you won't," Blaise said.
"Yet I will be expected to share the same burdens as everyone else."
Blaise's eyes searched hers for a few silent moments. Then he nodded tersely. "It is not my place to judge you for your decisions. But know that I think what everyone else here thinks – that there is only one option for you: To take the Lémure name."
On the other side of the common room, Tracey declared Checkmate.
o
Alchys replied to Lynea's letter on the same day the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws had their Werewolf lesson with Professor Snape, because Professor Lupin had taken ill again. The Gryffindor's lesson had gone horribly, according to Pansy, but the Ravenclaws had quite enjoyed theirs.
Alchys told Lynea that even though she had been three years older than James Potter and his friends, she had indeed known them. They had been quite the troublemakers in their school years and the Slytherins had often fallen victim to their nastier pranks. Everyone in Slytherin House had known to be wary of James Potter and Sirius Black in particular, but also to keep clear of Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. The four of them had been nothing but trouble. They had also, quite publicly, bullied Severus Snape. And no teacher had ever done anything about it.
Harry clenched his jaw when Lynea read the last part out loud. "I always thought –" He sighed. "People keep telling me how great my parents were. Hagrid can never stop gushing about them both. But then you told me what Naenia said about my dad's and Snape's relationship and now this …"
Lynea gently laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and Harry leaned into the touch.
"No one is perfect," Theodore said quietly. "And your father was still young. He probably grew out of his … less charming traits in later years."
Harry sighed again. "Maybe."
"So," Lynea said. "We now know that Professor Lupin's first name is Remus and that he was indeed friends with Harry's father and Black, as well as this Pettigrew guy." She scanned the letter once more. "We don't know what happened to Pettigrew, but James Potter is dead, Black is on the run and Lupin teaches at Hogwarts. As does Professor Snape, who was bullied by all four of them."
"This confirms all our suspicions," Draco said.
"So you really think Lupin let him in?" Harry asked sceptically.
Draco shook his head. "Not necessarily. That one was made by Uncle Severus. I meant all the other assumptions we made – we now have confirmation that Lupin and your father were friends and that my godfather has enough reasons to loathe them both."
"And me."
"I thought we already went over that," Lynea said with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah," Harry said with a sigh. "Doesn't matter, anyway."
Professor Lupin returned the next day and if he noticed the third-year Slytherins behaving a bit strangely, then he didn't comment on it.
The weekend after, the first Quidditch match of the season was held – Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The weather was so bad that the Slytherins had a whole discussion whether they could somehow postpone the match or try to convince the Hufflepuffs to switch places. In the end, though, there was no way out.
Lynea, for once, was not forced to watch. And she was very glad about that. Several other Slytherins stayed behind as well and so Lynea, Theodore, Daphne and Blaise watched the larger part of the school trudge through the storm to the Quidditch Stadium from the safe shelter of the Entrance Hall.
"They're all mad," Blaise commented and Lynea silently agreed.
He had not brought up their conversation from the beginning of November again and had been quite uneasy around her for a week or so, as if he expected Lynea to punish him for stepping out of line or something. Lynea, meanwhile, had deliberately not thought about it. At all.
"Nothing is as exciting as sitting in a thunderstorm and watch blurry shapes race through the air," she said.
"Scoring points that don't matter once one of the seekers has caught the Golden Snitch," Blaise added.
They all shook their heads and went to their common room, where Lynea curled up in front of a fireplace, cat in her lap and book in her hands. Theodore soon joined her, while Blaise and Pansy played a few rounds of chess to pass the time. It was nicely warm and cosy in the common room, only the turbulent and murky water of the lake betrayed the weather outside. Lynea was so immersed in her book that she soon lost track of time.
And then someone burst through the entrance and frantically called out her name.
"You have to come quickly," a soaking wet Tracey called. "Harry has been injured."
Lynea instantly abandoned her place by the fireplace and followed Tracey, the others right behind her. By the time they reached the Hospital Wing, Harry had regained consciousness and was just sitting up, blinking at his teammates in confusion. It was a sign of how worried they were, that they were still in their wet and muddy uniforms. They all looked around, when Tracey came back with Lynea and the others and nodded at them.
"What happened?" Harry asked.
"The Dementors entered the stadium," Pansy explained. "And you fell off your broom. It was terrifying. But Dumbledore and Professor Snape reacted in time and slowed your fall or you might have not survived it."
"Does that mean we lost?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Draco said. "But that isn't important. You could have died, Harry."
Harry looked down at his lap, where he had clenched his hands in the blankets, and said nothing.
The rest of the Quidditch Team gave Harry a few encouraging words and then left to clean up, dragging a reluctant Draco with them.
Lynea sat down on the edge of Harry's bed and picked up a bar of chocolate from his nightstand, the rest of the Slytherins still standing around the bed.
"Eat," she commanded. "And then tell me how you feel."
"Like I fell about fifty feet through the air after having to listen to the Dark Lord killing my mum," Harry said in a flat voice. He took another bite. "What happened to my broom?"
"Bad news," Pansy said and reached down to retrieve a pile of wood and splinters. "The wind blew it into the Whomping Willow and the tree did not like that very much."
Harry sighed and averted his eyes from the sorry pile that had once been his Nimbus 2001.
"Do you need anything from the dormitory?" Theodore asked quietly, but Harry only shrugged.
"It is always the match against Gryffindor, isn't it?" Lynea said remembering two distinct cases of rogue Bludgers.
"Because it is the first match of the season," Pansy said. "I'm going to change into dry clothes now, if you don't mind."
"Do you want any of us to stay?" Lynea asked.
Harry shook his head and so Lynea, Theodore, Blaise and Daphne followed their drenched classmates back to the common room. Madam Pomfrey kept him for the rest of the weekend. Lynea and the others made sure to visit him often and bring him his homework and whatever else he needed. Neville and Hermione came by as well and, apparently, so did the Weasley girl, leaving a shrilly singing 'Get Well' card that sent Draco into a fit of laughter whenever he saw it.
Harry did not cheer up. No one knew what was bothering him. They suspected it might have been because of the Dementors, but that didn't seem to be all. And Harry wasn't willing to talk to anyone about it.
He was moody all throughout Monday and then the rest of the week and being constantly surrounded by at least three Slytherins did not help in the slightest. Even Lynea was starting to get annoyed by the situation. Then Professor Lupin held Harry back after their next Defence lesson, leaving Lynea to wait outside the classroom with Draco, Pansy and Theodore.
"Do you think he noticed something is wrong with Harry?" Pansy asked quietly.
"If he did, let's hope he is able to actually do something about it," Draco muttered. "Harry's dragging us all down with him."
"If only he would talk to us," Lynea said. "He should know he can trust us with whatever it is. Keeping it bottled up inside won't help him in the long run."
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Have you ever met Harry? He never talks about things that bother him, until you literally drag them out of his mouth word for word."
"I was hoping he would learn to open up more."
"These things take time," Theodore said.
Lynea narrowed her eyes. "You don't talk about the things that bother you or make you sad, either."
Theodore froze, his eyes wide.
"Leave poor Theo be," Pansy said, quickly averting her eyes when Lynea shifted her gaze to hers. "And you are not any better, yourself, Lyn. Anyway, Harry's taking an awful log time, don't you think?"
"Then it must be important," Draco said.
It took several minutes more for Harry to emerge from the classroom during which Lynea and the others had moved on from talking about Harry to discussing the lesson about Hinkypunks they had just had.
"So," Pansy said, almost too casually. "What did he want?"
Harry gave them a small smile. "He asked about the Quidditch game. And he offered to teach me how to defend myself against Dementors starting next term."
"The Patronus Charm, I presume," Lynea said. "Do you think he would mind more people joining you?"
"I actually asked him about that," Harry said. "And he said yes. As long as it wouldn't be more than two or three."
Lynea caught Draco's eye. "I guess we'll have a discussion about it later. I think everyone but me would want to have that opportunity."
Harry furrowed his brows. "Why not you?"
Lynea smiled wryly. "Necromancer, remember? We can't perform the Patronus Charm. Our emotions are too muted for it to work. You'll learn how it works soon enough, Harry."
"So you are unable to defend yourselves against Dementors?" Pansy asked curiously.
Lynea shrugged. "I am. The Lémures, however … Most of them are undead, anyway, and I would dare say more powerful than any number of Dementors. Naenia even devised a method to destroy them, because she loathes them so much."
Pansy shuddered. "Scary."
By then, they had reached the Great Hall and suspended their discussion until later, when they would all be gathered behind the walls of common room, away from prying eyes and ears.
In the end, they decided to let Theodore and Blaise accompany Harry to his Patronus tutoring, whenever it may start, and those three would relay their knowledge to the others in the Slytherin defence lessons they hadn't had since Lupin had taken over the class.
The very next day, the Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff match was held. Lynea was dragged to this one, because 'You didn't attend the last one, Lynea', 'The last one was a severe disappointment, Lynea' and 'Golden Boy Cedric Diggory will play, Lynea, you can't miss that'.
Diggory had indeed become captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, as Pansy had predicted, as well as been named prefect. He was, according to Pansy, even more dreamy and 'Golden Boy' material than before. Lynea thought he looked prettier, but didn't exactly care about the rest, nor did she understand what Pansy was on about with the 'Golden Boy' title. The match was as interesting as any match – for Lynea that was not at all.
Harry was in a slightly better mood for the day, but that quickly changed again around lunch for a reason neither of the others knew. He finally exploded right before dinner, when he wanted to quickly go and grab a book from the library but had to wait for some of his housemates to accompany him.
"Enough already!" he said. "I don't need you following me around like I'm some lost puppy that needs to be watched all the time!"
"Harry –" Draco began, reaching out.
But Harry wrenched his arm out of Draco's grip. "No! Leave it!" And then he stormed up to his dormitory, threw a confused Blaise out and locked himself in.
Lynea sighed. "Gather everyone, we need to talk."