Jane physically couldn't comprehend what was happening. Her brain was refusing to unravel and process the revelations that had just occurred, dots were connecting but she just couldn't face the possibility that she wasn't going insane. She always thought one day that she would crack under pressure and lose her mind but with Danielle at her side — it must have been real.
The Knight Bus felt like a mystical portal to another dimension, a mixture of eras intertwined and clashing merrily inside the immense purple bus. A magnificent chandelier swung from the centre, a metal spiralling staircase enclosing it as it snaked upstairs. Armchairs of various heights and colours lined the bottom floor and small rickety tables wobbled beside each row for extra comfort. Jane had never seen anything like this in Weymouth before, extraordinary things didn't belong in her town.
The elderly guide took charge and walked towards the young conductor after suggesting they make themselves comfortable on the middle floor away from the prying eyes of the other passengers. Jane dawdled behind him, trying to absorb everything she could see before it was all over but quickly turned to find Danielle for some answers when she spotted a gentleman dressed in robes talking to what looked like a stick with arms and legs. Wait, that stick is talking back to him? What the hell is going on?! She had to leave or else her brain would explode.
As she climbed the stairs the whole bus lurched and fired off like a bullet down the road, and Jane quickly grasped the railings tightly getting used to the speed. No ordinary bus could go this fast. She noticed a pair of oddly dressed women whispering behind a flashing newspaper sharing a rose pink sofa near the front of the bus, and they kept craning their necks to stare at her. Her eyes bulged when she saw the front page move but she couldn't quite make out any headlines when Danielle called her over.
"Did you fall down the stairs?" she asked, worried. Jane rolled her eyes and took a rather squishy neon blue chair next to her, her eyes darting to the small moving portraits lining the walls.
"It'll take a lot more than a bus to take me down," she replied confidently, trying to make Danielle smile. "Did you know about all of this before today?" she couldn't help but blurt out, her foggy mind finally clearing.
Danielle met her gaze with an honest grimace, "I'm afraid so."
Jane nodded and decided to keep quiet as their third party climbed up the stairs with ease, as though the bus was not travelling and jumping around at a hundred miles per hour. His sweeping beard brushed the carpet as he opted for the tallest leather chair facing his company.
"And now we are on schedule. I do hope this extravagantly rushed entrance hasn't scared you," he chuckled, looking at Jane over his thin spectacles, "I can't imagine you've seen many triple decker buses magically appear in front of you before."
Jane couldn't stop the grin. It was magic.
"Not recently no," she couldn't help but joke, trying to quieten the anxiety pounding in her head. Danielle reached over and grabbed her hand, offering comfort in her sympathetic smile.
"I'm really sorry, I should have given you a better explanation but you honestly wouldn't have believed me," she went on to explain, "we wanted to get you away from Coles as quickly as possible since there is a lot we have to talk about."
Jane nodded, she would have had a hard time believing Danielle knew anything about magic and the surprise did spice up her boring day. "...that's fair, I definitely would have thought you were kidding," she concluded, glancing at the man before her.
"This school that I've been accepted to," began Jane, guessing at the reason they were not alone. "I assume you've got something to do with this—," She hesitated before adding "sir?" as the heat of shame burned in her cheeks, remembering her manners.
The man gave her another smile and sat forward, pulling a paper bag of sweets from his pocket. "Sherbet lemon? I find stories are rather dull without snacks."
The pair accepted the fizzing lemon sweets and the man began his formal introduction.
"My name is Professor Albus Dumbledore and I am headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It came to our attention recently that you haven't received your acceptance letter and I cannot say sorry enough for the delay. There was a unique irregularity in our attendance records and it has since unmasked a mystery that we simply cannot explain yet, but I will tell you everything in much more detail when we arrive at your home for the next two evenings."
All Jane heard was 'two nights away from Coles' and nodded enthusiastically at the prospect of unearthing her special secrets of being a witch. "Where are we staying?"
"The Leaky Cauldron," piped up Danielle, smiling at old memories, "I used to go there with my family whenever we visited London, it's a very popular spot."
Jane's stomach dropped. It sounded expensive. "Uh what about somewhere smaller? Maybe a cheap bed and breakfast?" She knew the home had minimal funding and the worry of being a burden came crashing over her.
"No need to worry, it's already been arranged and paid for," assured Dumbledore gently, and the crease on Jane's nose smoothed. "Everything you need for school will be taken care of tomorrow but again, we'll talk about it without curious ears around us." Dumbledore's eyes flitted to the spying witches nearby and they quickly spun around, waffling on about the latest in flying fashion.
The Knight Bus continued to lurch and jolt along, racing all over the country to drop off its inhabitants, and Jane spent the lulls in conversation staring out the window. Through rain splatters she saw buzzing motorways, dark forests, old churchyards, and even an odd looking farm with fields of what looked like grey alpacas with luminous blue eyes. It became harder to see as evening came quickly.
"Next Stop — The Leaky Cauldron," called out the conductor, and the group prepared for their departure.
The noise was the first thing Jane noticed. Central London was thriving with life, lights blaring and flashing, car horns and distant bar music filling the air as the trio watched the purple bus race off into nothingness, on its way to the next far off destination. She had been to London once before on a school trip, but experiencing nighttime in the city felt way more exciting.
"How do you summon the Knight Bus?" asked Jane immediately, and Dumbledore pulled out his wand, catching her curious eyes once more.
"If you stick your wand arm out and wish for transport, the bus will know what to do," he said, gesturing for his guests to follow. "It is very useful if you're stranded somewhere, potentially life-saving some would say."
The group crossed the busy road, hurrying to escape the rain, and the professor led them towards a particularly grimy store front and in through its black, beaten door. With the rain pouring down her face Jane couldn't quite inspect the street but could feel the immediate warmth from whatever lay beyond the door.
She stepped inside, shook the water droplets from her head, and gasped at the pub before her. It was heaving with witches, wizards and weirdness galore. Laughter and loud conversations travelled around the vast pub like a hearty song, spreading around gossip and gallivanting tales of adventure. Candles floated like clouds above heads, never once spilling a drop of wax, thick clouds of smoke danced in the air around the large party of goblins and men, and the smell from the food coming from the kitchen made Jane's stomach twirl in longing. She immediately fell in love. Who knew all of this was hiding in plain sight? What else is out there?
It didn't take the room long to acknowledge the newcomers but they never quieted, whispers of the breaking news headlines spread through the crowds like the smoke above their heads and Danielle carefully led Jane away from the rumours before she heard something she shouldn't.
"Let's go upstairs," she whispered, guiding Jane through the hubbub to where Dumbledore had found a set of crooked stairs leading up, he wasn't looking anywhere but at the girls. The parlours in the Leaky Cauldron were very old, they hadn't been redecorated in centuries but Jane admired its history. The wooden floors were very creaky as the trio entered, closing off the outer world as they dried off from the awful rain. Jane hung up her raincoat and glanced out the window to the oblivious streets below feeling for the first time safe and secure.
"Don't suppose we could have a brew?" wondered Danielle, tying her honey braids up out of her face with a pretty smile. Professor Dumbledore agreed wholeheartedly and began to settle into the leather settee opposite a roaring fire.
"Inspiring idea, I believe a tray is on its way as we speak. I've notified Tom the landlord that you both have missed your supper so food will be arriving after our chat," he disclosed, and he looked to Jane who was still standing across the room, gazing out the window. "Would you like some tea, Jane?"
She jolted and turned with a small smile, deciding to join them in front of the fireplace. "Earl Grey please."
After a quick introduction with the arrival of two blazing teapots, Jane watched Tom the landlord flash her a welcoming toothless grin as he left. He seemed very reserved but she noticed his darting glances her way, as though waiting for her to do something spectacular.
Professor Dumbledore sat forward in his seat and began pulling out documents from his hidden cloak pockets. Parchments of different colours and thickness fell to the table in neat piles and Jane could feel Danielle's gaze on her face. Her heart started racing nervously, wondering what was about to happen.
"What we are about to discuss may be difficult for you to understand at first but I made a promise with myself to tell you all I know. You deserve to know what happened to you regardless of what anyone else tells you. This is a very sensitive matter and if you would like me to stop at any point then please exercise your right," said Dumbledore, looking at the young girl. She nodded and sat upright, leaning forward to peek at the documents.
"In order to comply with the International Statute of Secrecy you must not tell anyone at Coles about this. Danielle is aware and already a part of the Wizarding community so she will be our point of contact for you," he explained, and Danielle nodded sternly, immense pride written on her face.
"Wizarding community," repeated Jane with another weak smile. "That means I'm a witch."
Dumbledore nodded. "Precisely."
A rush of memories flooded Jane for a moment, each magical outburst finally making sense. She wasn't a freak. "How did you find this out?" She asked, wanting to double check before getting her hopes up. "How do you know I'm a witch?"
"That question will be answered in due time, I will try to keep this in an order that is easy to digest," promised Dumbledore, sapphire eyes twinkling as he picked up a dense letter and offered it to the girl. "We will begin with this."
Jane took the letter with a muttered 'thanks' and read the emerald ink scrawled on its front.
Miss L.A Black.
Her stomach plummeted and her nose crinkled uncomfortably.
"That's not—," she went to say but both Albus and Danielle shook their heads, smiles hidden as they watched her.
"It will make sense, go on," encouraged Danielle, sipping her tea with caution. The ripped envelope fell into her lap and Jane carefully read every word.
Dear Miss Black,
We are pleased to inform you that you've been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—,
The rest of the letters' contents were a blur, information refusing to stick in her mind. Her steel grey eyes reread the opener and she could feel her heartbeat thump in her ears. Miss Black...?
"Your real name is Lyra Adelaide Black and you were born on the thirty-first of October nineteen seventy-nine," announced the headmaster, his age reflecting in his voice. Jane stared blankly at the letter but listened to Dumbledore's every word as though his voice was the only sound in the room.
"You have been presumed dead for the past ten years, no one knew of your whereabouts until a few weeks ago when Danielle and I met for the first time," he told her.
"When was that?" She pressed, but Danielle's sorrowful expression gave her the answer. "Oh. Madden." She tugged at her sleeve, hiding the bandage wrapped around her wrist sprain, and tried to pinpoint some sort of image of what happened. Nothing yet again.
"You conjured some very serious magic that day and the Ministry was alerted of your existence via a new Trace. Your birth name was still in our registry and together we deduced that you could be our missing girl despite the death proclamation. Her body was never found and the proximity of your hometown and the Black residence made our case believable… concerning, but still very believable."
Jane placed the letter on the table and looked to the professor at the mention of the Black house. The Black family. Her family. She had dreamed of this moment her entire life, the prospect of being reunited with her loved ones was every orphans fantasy. But she had a feeling deep in the pit of her torso, it was too heavy and dull to ignore. If she had a family, surely they would be here to greet her, to welcome her back with open arms and warm hugs. Shouldn't she be in her family home, not in some shabby pub?
"Unfortunately our plight was leaked to the press and the national papers have printed your tale. The night you were lost is historic and our world will be curious about this unexpected outcome. You see, Lyra," a light switched on inside of Jane and it felt very natural, "the Black family are very well known in our world. You are the heir of one of our oldest Pureblood families and no doubt everyone will want to know why and how a Pureblood witch has been living as a Muggle."
At Jane's confusion Danielle piped up with an explanation. "Non magic folk."
"Are you a Muggle?" asked Jane quickly, and Danielle shook her head.
"I'm a Squib. My parents and brother are magical and I'm not," she said as though talking about the weather, and Jane felt a rush of sadness realising why Danielle couldn't go to Hogwarts.
"But it's not going to be a big deal that I don't know anything about the Wizarding world though, right?" stuttered Jane, taking a large gulp of tea just to do something with her hands. The professor smoothed a crease in his gold robes and clasped his hands together. He looked as though he was battling between two thoughts, he was choosing his words carefully with her, Jane knew this for definite. She had a lot of experience at reading people, too much practice at staying quiet in the corner observing.
"The story that the newspaper The Daily Prophet wrote will bring a new kind of audience to you my dear, and everyone will have their own opinion despite the fact you are only an eleven year old girl. It saddens me deeply that you have been broadcasted like this without any prior knowledge," admitted Dumbledore, and he shuffled around the parchment on the table until the hefty broadsheet flashed through the mess.
"I will give you this to read at your own pace tonight," he offered, creating her a small homework pile and Jane actually felt giddy at the thought of having something to do. "I assume you will want to be prepared before you start school."
Jane summoned a grin, agreeing with an enthusiastic nod. "I know a thing or two about bullies and I have been lacking material lately. I can't walk into battle without knowing the slang. Do you have any books on popular culture?" Worth a shot, she thought.
"There is a wonderful bookstore in the alley beyond the pub," said Dumbledore, "if you want to brush up on your Wizarding history I can recommend some light reading." He seemed delighted at her curiosity, a trait he had expected her to possess. Jane cringed and shook her head.
"I don't have any money," all excitement had dropped from her voice. "Sorry sir."
"Well I'm thrilled to say you're wrong on this occasion," replied the headmaster coolly, sliding a small gold key across the busy coffee table towards her. Jane saw an emblazoned brass 'B' on its handle and picked it up for a closer look. "That is your key to your father's family vault. You are underage so you do not gain full access to your other vaults but this is all the boring admin that you'll be interested in when you turn seventeen."
"Vaults?! More than one?" recounted Jane, eyes bright and wide. "As in lots of money?"
"You are incredibly lucky, Lyra. Your parents made sure you would always be well prepared and looked after if anything happened. Due to your age you do have a limit on how much you can access but you have nothing to be worried about."
Another heartache. Lyra… your parents.
"My parents…" she echoed, "who are they? What happened?" She finally braved the question, the one they were all expecting. Danielle had guessed it would have been one of the first out of her mouth, and Albus cast his attention back to the Ministry earlier that day where gag orders were set by someone neglecting their duty to get involved with the recent discovery. They didn't want anything to do with her.
"I'm telling you this because you deserve to know," he warned her, pausing once more to top up the mismatched teacups on the table, a plate of frosted biscuits lay beside it untouched. Danielle had resorted to nibbling her manicured nails out of dread for the girl's reaction.
"Your mother, Giselle, was allegedly murdered by your father Sirius, on your second birthday. Everyone assumed he had killed you too because no one could find any sign that you were there. You simply disappeared like smoke in the air. Your father is currently serving a life sentence in the wizard prison called Azkaban for murder and for his involvement in the Dark Arts but this news will not reach him — a special request from Hogwarts since you will be in our care for the next seven years," he told her, careful enough to keep a slow pace.
Coldness crawled inside of Jane's chest, all cheer evaporating from her pores. Her eyes began to prickle, stinging and threatening to water. She hated crying in front of other people, she would try and hold it together until the privacy of her bedroom. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that something unspeakable had happened to her parents, not for one moment did she think that her father would be a dark wizard?! Evil wizards exist! Oh man!
"Everything isn't black and white in the Wizarding world, Lyra, you will come to discover this for yourself but I want to give you one thing to remember, something that I have to remind myself of now and then. The line between light and dark is incredibly thin, and it's up to you to find that out. Your fate in this world isn't decided for you and the best part is that you have the free will to make your own choices. Don't let your family or your blood purity define you."
The fire's crackles were soothing, matching the patter of rain on glass perfectly. Danielle slurped her tea, looking to the headmaster in order to give Jane a moment to dry her eyes. She hoped that they were almost finished, they needed an early night after these intense revelations which Jane needed to come to terms with before she departed. Her welfare was her main priority and she wanted to make sure she would be okay.
"Is there anything else I need to know or can be excused to my room?" mumbled Jane, features drooping sadly. Professor Dumbledore wasted no more of their time with difficult family tidings and presented Jane with two documents and a stubby orange quill.
"There still is the matter of your name. If you wish you can refuse your birthright and continue to attend Hogwarts as Jane Cole, or you may change to Lyra. Again, it is your decision," he proclaimed in his most professional manner, and Jane's jaw dropped.
"No question about it — get rid of Jane. My name is Lyra," she decided immediately, eager to desert her muggle persona and starting afresh. She saw the professor smirk beneath his moustache and she signed messily on the dotted line. Warmth tingled through her fingers and she admired the way her name looked written down - a perfect fit.
"And finally, all we need from you now is your credentials on the nullification of your death certificate," concluded Professor Dumbledore, another warm smile sent to his guests. "As soon as we have your confirmation then it will be legally correct."
Lyra added another golden scrawl on the parchment before her and saw the title change from a deep emerald to a glowing crimson. She went to hand it back but the headmaster shook his head.
"It's all yours," he said holding his slender hands up, "nulled death certificates are extraordinarily rare to come across."
Lyra appreciated the incredulous idea from the professor and happily accepted the document along with her late night readings. Maybe she could frame it? Or would that be a step too far? She'd come back to that.
Ends were tied and the headmaster of Hogwarts finally felt as though he had the upper hand in the situation. He took to his feet and thanked the girls for their time, wishing them a peaceful day of shopping ahead. They departed the parlour and trailed up a set of crooked wooden stairs towards the pub's accommodation. Lyra approved of the quirky character of the place, with its babbling portraits of merry monks and whispers carrying through every mirror she passed. They arrived at rooms four and five without losing their way and bid Professor Dumbledore a farewell.
"A pleasure Miss Greene, please send my regards to your parents," he topped his pointed hat towards Danielle, "and thank you for all your help." She blushed furiously, tongue tied. She couldn't wait to write to her parents, they wouldn't believe this!
He looked at Lyra once more and saw her ancestors in her visage. She had her grandfather's ears, her grandmother's freckled nose, her mother's bright smile, her fathers grey eyes; the perfect reminder of those that came before her. He had hoped she had inherited her parents' Gryffindor streak, another unconventional Pureblood opposing the purity norms and he was indisputably on the right track. Unpredictable and mysterious weren't traits he was keen on but it was going to be fascinating watching everything play out with her this year. He thought of another new student on his horizon and lost his original musing.
"Lyra Black, it is an honour to meet you. Until Hogwarts, stay safe," graced Dumbledore, bowing and taking her soft hand in his. She shook it firmly and held up his papers in her free hand with a rather impish smile.
"The next time you see me I'll be a whole new person, I'll know what," she glanced at the top sheet, "Quidditch is."
With a hearty laugh, the headmaster of Hogwarts departed the pub and the girls retired to their bedrooms.
"I'll be downstairs from ten o'clock, you deserve the lie-in," instructed Danielle as she stood in the doorway of room four, watching Lyra happily inhale the plate of hot cheesy pasta that Tom had dropped off moments ago. "And do try to get a decent night's sleep. No staying up past midnight please," she told her with a pointed finger. Lyra hid her smirk with another forkful and gave a strong nod.
"...Sure."
"We've got a lot to do tomorrow so promise me you will try and sleep," Danielle continued to press and Lyra eventually gave in, knowing she was right. The excitement of what was to come pumped through her veins and she was itching to start the article that had everyone's attention. That would explain the nosy punters downstairs.
"I promise," assured Lyra, watching Danielle leave. The bedroom felt huge without another person but it didn't stop her from enjoying the space. She ran and jumped onto the four poster bed and its frame creaked sending shivers down its spine. With the parchment from Dumbledore pooled out in front of her, Lyra lay in her stomach and unfolded the vivid, flashing newspaper.
Her own face surprised her on the cover and sickly rolls of shame vibrated through her. Luckily it was only a small photograph, taking up the bottom corner of the page, but she would have preferred to stay anonymous for as long as possible. She read about how her father came from a long line of dark wizards who had done unspeakable things, how he murdered her mother and thirteen other people (Lyra winced and covered her face in fear when she discovered that one of the victims was her father's old school friend and she prayed that she would never run into the victim's angry family) but there was barely any mention of her mother, just half a sentence.
"...Lyra's death was first announced alongside her mother's, Giselle Black, who was incidentally Sirius' first victim of the evening..."
Lyra tore the front page of The Daily Prophet off and hurried to chuck it in the bin, actively trying to take her mind off of her horrifying family past and thankfully she found a distraction on the second page in the form of a gripping article about an Irish Quidditch player's love affair with a banshee. The dread soon left Lyra and she immersed herself in the newspaper, laughing at the peculiar magical words and educating herself on the various aspects of Wizarding culture that were displayed on the pages.
She never felt more connected to anything in her life, she had finally found her people and they were curious to know who she was. She should have been scared of the attention, the Wizarding world knew her as the daughter of mass-murderer and preconceived notions about her were being made at this very moment.
But Lyra couldn't have been happier, she couldn't wait to introduce herself to the Wizarding world.