As September came to an end, Lyra finally settled into a more suitable routine and her new life at Hogwarts seemed to suit her nicely.
Thanks to a spellbook dedicated to basic housekeeping and daily practices she found in the library, she managed to bewitch her alarm clock to chime periodically every morning in time for breakfast which vastly improved her time management. To her delight, Lyra also found another useful charm that had been scribbled on the book's back page from a former student who also struggled with their fortnightly timetable and soon her own schedule glowed bright green, highlighting the appropriate day.
Her roommates seemed to appreciate her effort to become a more approachable and stable student and soon the dull sensation of reclusion started to fade as the Gryffindor girls engaged with her more. She discovered that Lavender was obsessed with teenage witch magazines and enthusiastically flicked through the latest issue with Lyra whilst babbling on about the latest in teen fashion, Parvati loved to sing and immediately fawned over Lyra's collection of CDs and old band t-shirts as she recognised a few names from her father's music collection, and that Sally-Ann was a big fan of the wizarding game Gobstones — she played expertly and slayed every person she went up against.
Hermione was still very cautious of Lyra's behaviour but she ultimately warmed to her when Lyra asked her if she wanted to study together in the library since Lyra had noticed Hermione kept to herself.
The others in their year weren't fond of Hermione's overexerted need to be an specialist in every single subject — the words 'teacher's pet' was whispered any time Hermione was near — but Lyra refused to conform to the masses and consciously made an effort to be friendly with her. Lyra liked Hermione a lot when she wasn't whining and scolding her for every little thing she did, she related to her unconscious ability to talk people's ears off as well as her fascination with comparing wizarding life to Muggle life. It became apparent almost instantly that Hermione was the smartest girl in their year, it would have been awfully dumb of Lyra not to keep her on her good side, so it only made sense that they hung out… even if it was a tad lacklustre.
Lyra settled into her classes and grew to love them all individually, even Potions. Professor Snape was still determined to make her classes miserable but Lyra noticed that he didn't direct all of his anger towards her, the Potions Master seemed to divide his fury equally between her and Harry for some unknown reason. Even with Snape breathing down her neck and verbally scrutinising her every move, Lyra slowly but surely fell in love with potion-brewing.
Every branch of magic was deeply complex and required a lot of different skills but that didn't stop her from trying her hardest at every chance she got.
She deduced the key to success was to read ahead and her professors were pleasantly surprised with her new performance trajectory. She knew she was on the right path when Professor McGonagall asked her to stay after class one day to praise her for her newfound effort. Lyra bit back the urge to inform her that she shouldn't be shocked that she was smart when the professor sneakily gave her a handful of homemade shortbread, a gesture she was not expecting whatsoever. Although McGonagall's token felt rather scornful, Lyra felt as though she were a dog being rewarded for not peeing on the carpet, she didn't complain; the biscuits were delicious and she wanted more.
However, as smooth as everything seemed, Lyra felt like something was missing. She didn't know what it was exactly but she could sense a hole inside of her, a void begging to be filled with a mysterious need. It felt like a mild stomach cramp, a biological disturbance deep inside her was crying out for something, and it refused to shift.
Until the night she met the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
Lyra and Hermione entered the common room one evening just before curfew, both exhausted from writing Professor Flitwick's tough essay, and were heading towards their dormitory when Lyra heard her name being called from across the tower. She turned to see the Weasley twins chatting exuberantly with their friends in the corner of the room and her eyes caught theirs.
"Lyra! Over here!" one of the twins exclaimed, jumping up to beckon her over. The faces around the redheads glanced over their shoulders to stare and Lyra suddenly felt very shy.
"I'm going to bed," sighed Hermione, resisting the compulsion to roll her eyes. "Try not to—,"
"—lose any house points, I got it," finished Lyra bitterly, and she bounded over towards the twins before she could hear more judgemental comments coming from Hermione's mouth. Lyra took in the faces of the twins' friends and immediately recognised the strapping brunette boy sitting opposite her from the Potions lesson she burst into during her first week of school; she vividly remembered him laughing as Snape screamed at her.
"A very good evening to you, young Black," chirped the nearest twin, and Lyra tried her luck.
"Hello George," she guessed, and she smirked in satisfaction when he looked startled.
"See? A troublemaker's intuition, she's got it!" mused Fred, brandishing his arm towards Lyra as if showing her off to his friends. Lee Jordan nodded approvingly from his seat as he bit into his wriggling tropical taffy.
"I think her stunt on the Express already proved that," he snickered.
"That was a genuine accident, if I could go back and change what happened I would," interjected Lyra seriously. Their faces fell, disappointment replacing their amusement.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I'd go back and make sure that I don't get caught," she said deadpanned, and the circle burst into laughter, relief flooding their worried expressions.
"You had us there for a second!" exclaimed George, clutching his chest.
"I'm just keeping you on your toes," she said with a smile. The approval from Gryffindors older than her felt refreshing but slightly surreal considering the last time she interacted with a group of teenagers she ended up in hospital. "Is there a reason you called me over or did you just want to see my pretty face?"
"Yes to both," announced Fred, swinging his legs up onto the arm of his chair as he stretched, "We heard that you have your first flying lesson tomorrow and we thought now would be the perfect opportunity to introduce you to the legendary Gryffindor Quidditch team."
Lyra gulped, taken aback. She had what tomorrow?! She really should check the notice board more often.
She blinked hard and quickly covered her ignorance with a shaky laugh, hoping they would continue. Luckily they did and started to reel off the names of those around them. She discovered that Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Lee were third years alongside the twins, Katie Bell had recently joined the team as their new Chaser, and Oliver Wood was the team captain and star player as their Keeper. All of them were incredibly welcoming and Lyra felt at ease in their company, joking with them was almost second nature. She took the opportunity to ask them for flying advice and they were more than willing to share all of their tips and tricks along with many book suggestions as they noticed she was a keen reader.
"You shouldn't worry about it, though," assured Oliver, stretching back in his chair, "considering your background, I'll be very surprised if you're not a natural."
Lyra tilted her head, confused. "Considering my background?"
Oliver froze, rather perturbed at her reaction. "Wait, what?"
"She doesn't know, Wood!" sighed Fred, shaking his head. "That's why we called her over, it was going to be a big surprise! We had a reveal planned and everything!" Oliver flushed and tugged on his sweater collar.
"Oops, sorry lads," he chuckled, sounding quite the opposite.
Lyra ogled the twins, slightly anxious at what they were going to say. Her background wasn't exactly a secret considering most of it had been printed in the newspaper, but as she racked her brain she tried to remember if The Daily Prophet mentioned Quidditch or flying within the article — she came up blank. "What are you talking about?"
"Ah ha!" exclaimed George, climbing to his feet again. "Not so fast!"
"We're not wasting a perfectly good reveal!" stated Fred, and he joined his brother's side, sporting matching grins.
"You guys are mean," said Katie, tutting at the twins as she returned to the magazine in her lap. "You're better off running away now, Lyra."
"Put the poor girl out of her misery," scolded Angelina playfully, rolling her eyes. "It's not fair."
"Yeah, Angelina's right — what's not fair?" prompted Lyra, dumping her heavy backpack onto the floor as it was starting to cramp her shoulder.
A soft bubbling of nerves was starting to settle in her stomach as though she had swallowed a dodgy potion but the twin's delight tried to put her mind at ease. They seemed to be genuinely excited to present her with this mysterious revelation and she knew she should trust them, she had no reason not to.
Ever since the school term started, Fred and George Weasley were adamant to give Lyra what they called their personal take on life at Hogwarts, a personalised tour of the castle and all of the secrets it held. They believed that she had great mischief potential and they wanted to give her the tools to expand her troublesome ways with promises that they were only looking out for the next generation. It was a valiant task that they were burdened with since no one else seemed to be as concerned.
Lyra happily let them lead her astray but she decided to keep all of their advice to herself. She didn't tell Hermione about her baiting Peeves the Poltergeist by asking him to prove to her that he really could possess inanimate objects thus causing an impromptu suit of armour battle on the second floor, but she knew that Hermione would have heard about it from the twins' many evening rambles in the Gryffindor Tower. They were very proud and wanted to boast to anyone that listened.
"Well, Lyra," sighed Fred, draping an arm around her shoulders, "since you've arrived I'm sure you've noticed that you've caught our eye." He began to lead her away from the group and towards the exit. Lyra's stomach fluttered and she tried to hide her smile, what were they going to show her tonight?
"Naturally we thought we would do a little bit of digging into the cheeky first year that seemed to appear out of nowhere," said George, leading the way and opening the portrait hole for the three of them. They stepped out into the warm candle-lit seventh floor and Lyra stifled her smirk when the Fat Lady spitefully muttered after them, tutting and huffing about the curfew they seemed to disregard.
"Digging?" asked Lyra, gazing up at the redheads. "You've been investigating me?"
"Yes, you could say that we've been doing a little bit of research," proposed Fred, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "But really all we did was write to Mum."
"We found a copy of The Daily Prophet that had the article on you but, to be honest, it didn't tell us much and we needed to find out more," said George, rolling his eyes. Lyra placed a hand on her chest and wiped away a non-existent tear.
"Aw! You two sound like my biggest fans, or my biggest stalkers," she arched an eyebrow and made them pause as she rooted her heels into the floor, "Should I be worried? Is this a kidnapping? Are you going to peel my skin off and wear it?"
"Merlin no!" gasped George, outraged. "It's much too soon for that, we're just mild admirers right now, Black."
"Yeah, the skin suits come after years of stalking," assured Fred with another pat on her shoulder, and Lyra let them continue on their path.
"Glad to hear," she said happily, and noticed that they had reached the grand staircases. "Where is this spectacular reveal taking place? And most importantly, what the hell is going on? What have you found?"
"You sure ask a lot of questions," snorted Fred, and Lyra worked hard to fight the rush of blood into her cheeks.
Her habit of talking too much had been singled out by a few others at Hogwarts already and from the tone of voices they used she knew it wasn't necessarily a good thing. She fidgeted and shrugged, blinking at her school shoes.
"...weirdly I never get any answers," she mumbled, and she felt the twins share a look over her head. Being over a foot taller than her meant that she had to crane her neck up to meet their watery blue eyes but it also meant that it was easy for them to avoid her gaze.
"Until now" announced George, wiggling his eyebrows. The corners of Lyra's lips twitched and she narrowed her eyes. She stayed silent.
"Like I said, we wrote to Mum to ask her about you," explained Fred. Lyra's stomach plummeted nervously, and she immediately thought of the train incident. Had the Weasleys told their mother what had happened? It would have been mere childish school gossip, it would have had no relevance in their mother's life, but a part of her feared that their mother wouldn't want them getting involved with a troublesome first year with a peculiar reputation.
"Why?" blurted out Lyra, unable to stop herself.
"We wanted to know if she knew anything about you or your family, we thought she might have known your parents since the Black family are purebloods," clarified Fred. The trio continued to descend the stairs and Lyra had to catch her wobbly step when they mentioned her parents.
A jittery tight feeling filled her lungs and she avoided their smiling faces again. No one at school had mentioned her incarcerated father to her yet despite his sentencing being mentioned in The Daily Prophet but now she feared that the twins wanted to talk to her about it. The idea made her extremely uncomfortable and Lyra found herself wishing she had followed Hermione and gone to bed. They reached the ground floor without trouble, and Lyra risked a glance up at the ceiling dozens of floors above her but the sheer height made her stomach twirl.
"...And what did you find out?" she mumbled sadly, and the twins caught her sudden drop in mood. They locked eyes with her and offered a very out-of-character smile, it was rather sympathetic and kind.
"Don't pout at us, Black. Just trust us," comforted George in a low voice, and he pointed towards a door hidden behind a bronze statue of a hopping goblin. Lyra had noticed this door before but hadn't had the chance to explore it yet. "We're very close, I promise."
Before Lyra could begrudgingly agree, however, the door hiding the Entrance Hall burst open.
Harry and Ron came strolling through, chatting aimlessly to each other, when they froze at the sight of the trio before them. Lyra smiled and waved at them, hoping that they would be the perfect distraction for her to sneak off. She still wasn't prepared to talk about her family yet, the hole in her chest howled and begged to be left alone.
"Oi!" called Ron, and they rushed over, curious to see what adventures his brothers were embarking on tonight.
"Oi yourself!" exclaimed George, and he dramatically checked his watch. "It's two minutes till curfew, little brother — where on earth have you been?!"
"We were visiting Hagrid," said Ron, frowning, "Where are you three going? On another mission to bother Peeves?"
"Not tonight, he plays checkers with the Fat Friar on Tuesdays," sighed Fred, shaking his head. "One day we will get an invite, mark my words."
"Checkers?" asked Harry, amazed. "How do ghosts play checkers?"
"With great determination," said Fred.
"Then where are you going?" wondered Ron, looking at Lyra, and she shrugged.
"I think they're trying to kidnap me and intend to skin me alive," she said deadpanned, making them snort.
"Can we come?" asked Harry, and Lyra dropped her jaw, gaping at him.
"Sick, Potter!"
His whole face flushed a vivid shade of red as he realised what he had just inferred, and he shook his head, flustered. "No! I didn't—! That's not—,"
"Wow Harry, that's disgusting," scoffed George, grimacing at him.
"We thought better of you," sniffed Fred, before ultimately beckoning them to follow. "Actually, Harry, what we found out will interest you too. Come with us, little firsties!" He rushed over to the mysterious door and smiled widely as George pushed Lyra, Ron, and Harry through it.
The corridor twisted and turned, more doors had to be opened, but soon Lyra gasped as they emerged into a sweeping chamber full of golden, glistening trophies and magnificent display cases adorning sparkling silver shields. A soft hum filled the air and its soothing, mechanical melody brought a sense of calm over the visitors. The stone walls flashed brightly as though a disco ball hung above their heads as the lanterns on the wall lit up the scene for them.
"This is the school's trophy room," proclaimed Fred, brandishing his arms as though he owned every award in the huge room. "And yes, before you ask, most of them are mine."
"This is wicked!" exclaimed Lyra, and she immediately dove down the steps, exploring each case with awe in her bright eyes. She had wondered if the school had some kind of competition or event that would warrant an award ceremony, and she couldn't deny that she was intrigued with the idea of her winning some trophies. Lyra began to wonder whether Hogwarts had an Art club when she noticed something had grabbed Ron's attention.
"I didn't know Hogwarts had a chess club," mumbled Ron, glancing up curiously at the nearest display, and Lyra joined him.
"Are you a big chess player?" asked Lyra, and he nodded, his eyes still drawn to the embellished shield that had a beautiful engraving of a bishop and a rook above a list of names.
"Yeah, it's one of the only things I'm actually good at. Dad says I could play for England but I reckon he was just being nice," he said under his breath, not wanting the others in the room to hear, and Lyra pouted at his self-deprecation.
"Chess is hard, it takes real skill to be a great player," she told him as though it were a known fact, and he smiled slightly at her comment, finally tearing his eyes away. "Maybe we could play sometime and I can see if your dads lying?" Lyra offered, she had only ever played with Danielle and she fancied a real challenge.
Ron puffed out his chest and tried not to look too smug. "You're on, Lyra. Get ready to lose, you've not played wizards chess before."
This was not what she expected to hear. " Wizards chess?! What?!"
But before Ron could dive into an in-depth description of wizards chess the twins called their names from deep within the trophy room. Lyra found the trio staring at a vast wall decorated with flashing photographs of cheering Quidditch teams, each photo showing the reigning team of the year lifting a grand golden trophy over their heads, screaming silently at them, and her eyes bulged in her head as she tried to take it all in.
"These go back for decades," said Harry breathlessly, walking along the wall as he read the tiny plaques underneath each of the black and white photos, and Lyra looked to the twins who were still smirking at her.
"Why are we here?" she asked again, but a small, bubbling feeling of wonder inside of her had already given her an answer. Her eyes couldn't stop trying to find the years that her parents might have attended Hogwarts, and George helpfully pointed towards the pictures a mere metre away.
"We asked Mum whether she knew your parents and it turns out that she knew your mum. Really well, in fact," he explained as the first years crept closer to the photographs. Lyra blinked away the threat of tears when spotted her mother immediately within the frame and her appearance took her breath away. The seven Quidditch players dressed in their Gryffindor robes were jumping and cheering, punching the air as they celebrated their win together, but Lyra could only watch the teenage girl with dark hair, a pretty freckled face, and pouting full lips. She must have been about fourteen years old, one of the youngest in the photo, and the sentiment warmed Lyra's heart. She was screaming and shaking the boy beside her, and Lyra gawked gormlessly at a boy that looked exactly like—
"Harry, you're in this photo!" laughed Lyra, hastily hiding any trace of tears from her voice, and she beckoned him to join her. Puzzled, Harry rushed over and Lyra saw the shock wash over his face.
"Is that…?" he mumbled, and Fred tapped the plaque underneath.
"Chasers; David Appleby, Giselle Crouch, James Potter," he read out loud in his loudest whisper, and an odd buzzing noise filled Lyra's ears as she continued to stare at her mother.
Crouch, her mother's maiden name was Crouch. The new information banged about inside Lyra's head and she tried to act natural but the tightness inside her chest was getting worse. Suddenly she wished she was alone. She glanced at Harry beside her and she saw the absence in his eyes, he was miles away and Lyra decided not to interrupt him, she left him to his thoughts. She could see he was struggling with this new information too.
"Wait a second," interjected Ron, side-eyeing his brothers, " Crouch? I recognise that name."
"I'm surprised you do, Ron," scoffed George, rather impressed, "I don't think you ever met Mum's aunt Adelaide? She's not one of Muriel's kids, Adelaide is from the side we actually like?"
Lyra spun on the spot and blinked at them when the familiar name came up, her heart was now pounding harder than a bass drum, and she could feel it pulsing on her tongue.
"A-Adelaide?"
"And now for the big reveal!" grinned George, and he winked at his twin. Fred pulled his wand from inside his robes and pointed it at the ceiling.
" Revelio!" he cried, and a stunningly white sheet banner unrolled from its hiding place and covered the wall of photos. Bright red words in bold, sharp letters blinked at the group and the wobbling in Lyra's legs got worse. She instinctively latched onto Harry's shoulder as he was closest and stared at the banner. This was a prank, this couldn't be true…
"Surprise!" cried the twins, flourishing their wands and small explosions burst out the tips, showering them in confetti. Lyra blinked at the banner that read ' Welcome to the family, Lyra!' and she rubbed her eyes, doubting her vision.
"Your grandmother Adelaide is our mum's aunt!" revealed George, delighted that he could finally share the good news. "Our parents are cousins!"
Ron gasped, staring at Lyra in a new light. "What?! Mum never mentioned this?!"
"Shut up!" screamed Lyra, adrenaline hitting her square in the face. This had to be true, she could feel it in her bones. "Shut up!" Exhilaration was the closest thing Lyra could use to describe the feeling that had rapidly replaced the sad hole in her chest. It was like something deep within her had woken up. She felt like she was going to explode, so many emotions were rushing through her she could barely keep them in.
"We're family!" cried the twins, grabbing Lyra's arms and dancing around in a circle as they chanted. "We asked Perce to come down and join us for our family reunion but all he said was that we should have done this on a weekend and not on a school night, which in Percy language means he's sorry he couldn't make it but polishing his perfect badge is more important."
Lyra sniffed, nodding sincerely. "That's the nicest thing he has ever said to me."
"So you had no idea that you were related before tonight?" clarified Harry, still a little shocked at seeing his doppelganger on the wall. Lyra shook her head and glanced at her newfound cousins - or was it second cousins? She never took any notice of technical terms relating to families, they were of little use to her as an orphan, and yet here she stood in the presence of three blood relations! Lyra gasped again — they were three of seven!
"I have so many second cousins! This is incredible!" shouted Lyra, overwhelmed at the possibilities of being related to more people. "Who else am I related to?!"
Fred and George shared a look and the familiar twinkle in their eyes came back, signalling trouble. Lyra stopped dancing in celebration and blinked, waiting for the downside. There was always a downside.
"Mum did mention that you do have another second cousin at school…" said Fred in a strained voice, holding it together the best he could, but his wriggling brow gave away his struggle.
"Yeah, uh, your father's cousin's son is here at Hogwarts too…" choked George, and he caught Ron and Harry's eyes. "You're never gonna guess who it is!"
"Who?" they asked, hooked by the twins' brash reaction.
"It's hilarious!" laughed Fred.
" Too hilarious!" cackled George.
"Do we know them?" wondered Harry, and they nodded. Lyra went to snap at them to spit it out when the glint in their identical eyes got worse. It sparked a hunch and Lyra shook her head, refusing to acknowledge the small voice in the back of her mind.
"It's not…" she moaned, still shaking her head, "It can't be…"
"I think there was another reason Malfoy got upset when you pelted him with cake," mused Fred aloud, and Ron and Harry's gasps of horror confirmed her fears. This was the worst!
"NO!" screamed Lyra, clutching her face, "You're lying! Not him! Not Draco!"
"You were better off not knowing," said Harry, disgusted, and Lyra agreed with a salty pout. She couldn't believe it… that moody, pale, pain in her arse was her second cousin?!
Her stubborn side refused to face that as a true fact but she couldn't ignore the bitter jab at the back of her mind. It made sense that the idiot was related to her lunatic father. She shivered, was everyone on her father's side that bad?
"I thought this was going to be a good surprise," whined Lyra, and the twins looked offended.
"Is being related to the best pranksters Hogwarts has ever seen not enough for you?" criticised George, and Lyra rolled her eyes.
"Of course not, this is one of the best nights of my life! But discovering that Slytherin's newest ghoul shares the same blood as me is starting to make me feel sick," she admitted lightly, but Fred shook his head.
"But we also gifted you with the precious knowledge that you come from a line of fine fliers," explained Fred seriously, making an effort to bring it back to their original point, "as do you, Harry. Your flying lesson tomorrow will be a breeze, you've got nothing to worry about."
"But Ron, on the other hand, you should worry. Remember, the end with the spiky sticks goes behind you," said George deadpanned, turning to his little brother who scowled back, the tops of his ears turning crimson.
"Hey!"
When Lyra reached the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, all she could think about was her being related to Draco Malfoy, she couldn't get it out of her brain.
She didn't want to admit it but the revelation had kept her up half the night, the anxious thoughts concerning her father's family getting louder as the hours went on. If they were all like Draco and Sirius then she didn't want to know any of them. Lyra caught herself scanning the Slytherin table for his greasy blonde hair but she snapped out of it when her classmates joined her, all of them chatting nervously about their upcoming flying lesson with Madam Hooch.
"How do you stay on the broom?" wondered Dean, looking at the more experienced wizards curiously, "won't you just slide off the end?"
"There's a stand for your feet, it's really easy to figure out," assured Ron, trying not to look too smug that he had an upper hand on most of his classmates.
"I don't understand why the lessons are compulsory," sighed Parvati, pouting into her cereal, "I haven't touched a broom since Padma threw me off our old Cleansweep when we were eight and I don't want to go near one again."
"What if you pretend that you're really bad at flying so Madam Hooch won't let you near one," suggested Lyra, absently searching the Slytherin table again. "Just fall off again."
"But it hurts! You try falling on your back from five feet up in the air!" countered Parvati, ignoring Lyra's advice. Hermione looked terrified at the thought.
"We could use Ron to cushion your fall?" added Lyra as though it was a genuine suggestion, and Ron gasped, stunned.
"Or we could not!"
The rest of Ron's apprehensive comments were drowned out by a chorus of hoots as owls of all shapes and sizes soared through the open windows, carrying letters and packages for the chattering students below them. Lyra instantly thought of her baby Apollo who she had left snoozing in his cage under her bed.
He had barely grown a centimetre since the day she got him but according to the books she had frantically checked out from the library this was completely normal. By December he should have fully matured and hopefully she could send him on his first journey to Danielle in time for the holidays. Lyra tried not to think about Danielle too much, the prickles of tears came too quickly whenever she thought about her kind face and she didn't want to admit that she missed her terribly.
The flutter of a grey owl's wing caught Lyra's eye from her left and she watched as Neville struggled to untie his brown paper package, his face screwed up in concentration, but before she could find out what Neville had forgotten today, Lyra finally heard his whining voice in the hall. She whipped her head around, her grey eyes sharper than a hawk as she searched for Draco, and to her surprise he was looking straight at her as though he knew she was looking for him. His sneer wasn't as malicious today, but she could still see the ice in his stare.
Without thinking, Lyra climbed to her feet. She needed to speak to him, she wanted to know how close their family was and whether her finding out their relationship was going to be a problem, but the longer she gazed at the now frowning Draco the more anxious she grew. She didn't know how to start a conversation about estranged family members. Her sudden movement caught the attention of those around her and she heard Ron scoff in disgust.
"You're not thinking about going over to Malfoy, are you?" he asked, and Lyra nodded, her decision already made.
"My darling cousin and I need to have a little chat," she drawled, trying to imitate Draco's voice, but she immediately retched and corrected herself. "Ew! Second cousin! We're not that closely related!"
"Cousin?!" gasped Hermione, her frizzy hair flying as she craned her neck to stare at Draco. "You didn't tell me he was your cousin?"
"That's because I didn't know, I found out last night from my other cousins— wait no, second cousins — we are not that closely related," repeated Lyra, throwing her hands up in the air.
"If I were you I wouldn't be telling anyone else that you're related to him," said Harry from across the table and Lyra narrowed her eyes at him. He had a point.
"Wait, other cousins? How big is your family?" asked Hermione. Lyra shrugged and nodded towards Ron.
"Big enough to include the Weasley clan," she informed her, but before she could return to her original plan to storm over to Draco and demand she speak with him away from the gossiping student body, Lyra came face to face with the very boy that had plagued her thoughts.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" barked Ron instantly, glowering at Draco, but he was promptly ignored.
"Good morning Draco," said Lyra, falsely bright to catch him off-guard.
"What's your problem this morning? Why do you keep staring at me?" spat Draco, crossing his arms and eyeing the table beside them. Lyra purposely stood in front of Neville and mirrored him, crossing her arms.
"I want to talk to you," she admitted, meeting his cold stare with a seemingly confident one. The glares of Vincent and Gregory behind him were off-putting, she wished he had told his lap dogs to heel, but instead of scowling back she smiled.
"What?" asked Draco, genuinely confused, but remembering he was being glared at by Harry and Ron he assumed his sneer and rolled his eyes.
"Have you grown bored of your loser housemates?" he wondered, making the bodies behind him snicker, "or did you—,"
"I'm going to stop you there before you embarrass yourself," interjected Lyra, pouting at her second cousin, and she pointed towards the Entrance Hall, "can we please talk outside?" She purposely glanced at the faces watching them before adding, "alone?"
"Do you really think I'm going anywhere with you by myself?" said Draco, unconvinced. Lyra fought the groan trying to escape her lips and shook her head.
"But you'd prefer to be near me and a table full of food? That's unusually brave of you," she countered, and Draco hesitated. Gregory's face paled and he instinctively bared his teeth, his eyes shooting over towards Harry.
"You wouldn't dare," sniffed Draco, and he nodded towards the staff table, "they're already watching you."
Lyra chanced a look back and noticed that Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape had stopped reading their newspapers and were staring at the first years, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. Lyra blushed faintly and snapped back to Draco, battling against the compulsion to grab the nearest pastry and smash it into his smug face. This is exactly how she imagined their conversation to go. Why did she even bother?
"They're watching us, not me. Why are you trying to make this harder than it needs to be? I'm being nice to you," sighed Lyra, "please can we go outside?"
"What do you want to talk about? Whatever it is, we can do it here," sassed Draco confidently, attempting to take charge of the situation.
"But I don't think you will appreciate the audience, cousin," spat Lyra but gasping angrily. " Second cousin! God damnit!"
Draco's face dropped momentarily and she could see the cogs whirring behind his eyes while he pieced it together what had transpired between the Gryffindors, and Lyra finally felt a calming roll of relief soothe the stressed knot in her stomach. The malice on his expression was melting before her and she started to smile, was she finally getting through to him?
"Did you have to pay Weasley to tell you? I hope he charged you a small fortune for that valuable intel, what's a small fortune to you, Weasley? About four knuts, right?" drawled Draco, stifling a nasty cackle. The stressed knot was back and Lyra's shoulders slumped. Nope, she thought scornfully, I give up.
"You little worm!" Ron shot onto his feet and glowered at him, his whole face a queasy shade of pink, but Harry helpfully joined him when Ron stuttered, tongue tied from the insult.
"Why don't you go back to the rock you crawled out from, Malfoy," said Harry in disdain, but his input roused the Slytherins. Draco grinned and nudged Gregory with his sharp elbow, encouraging the group to laugh along.
"You can talk, Potter. I bet you're so jealous of Weasley's hovel, do you even have a home? Is that why you're hanging around with him? Your standards are incredibly low," he asked bluntly, and Lyra's heart hammered dangerously fast. Her hand automatically dove for the pile of jam-covered toast on Neville's plate.
With a horrified gasp Hermione slapped her hand away.
"Lyra! Don't even think about it!" she scolded her, mortified that their group were drawing the attention of others in the hall.
The pure shock of Hermione telling her off in front of the Slytherins hit her directly in the gut and the blush in her cheeks scorched hot enough to burn her skin. It had winded her, she felt almost empty and hollow as she stared back at Hermione, stunned into silence.
"Ha! Is Granger telling you off, Black?! How embarrassing!" cackled Draco, flinging his head back in laughter and those around them joined in.
An odd buzzing sound filled Lyra's ears and she swore she saw a flash of red, all of the dreadfully familiar emotions of humiliation pumped through her veins like adrenaline and her teeth dug deep into her bottom lip threatening to break the skin.
Lyra's hands were working on a different wavelength to her body, as if some external force was influencing her, and she watched herself snatch the small jug of ice cold pumpkin juice from the table and dunk it over Draco's head. The bright orange liquid splashed onto the floor and everyone backed away, gawking at Draco who screamed bloody murder.
"MISS BLACK!"
McGonagall and Snape were running over the second the jug left the table. Draco's yells were ear-splitting, he was swearing as he wiped the juice from his eyes, but all Lyra could hear was the Gryffindors around them howl with laughter at the dripping wet Draco. Lyra grinned and wriggled her eyebrows at her second cousin as she felt two hands on her shoulders drag her away from the scene, preventing any retaliations from the soaked Slytherin.
"I told you to stay away from Mr Malfoy—!" gasped McGonagall.
"—despicable behaviour! You're not a wild animal—! growled Snape.
"—have you not learnt your lesson?!" reprimanded McGonagall, appalled by her behaviour. They stopped before the staff table and glared down at her, both of them similar in stance with hands on hips and eyes alight in fury. Lyra bit her tongue and scowled back. Did they not hear what Draco was saying? His annoying voice usually stood above casual chatter, you could easily pick him out within a crowd.
" Thirty points from—," Snape started to spit, but McGonagall frowned and held an arm out.
"Thank you Severus, Miss Black is in my house, I can deal with this," she told him, pursing her lips at her colleague. It was abundantly clear from his reaction that he was not expecting McGonagall to speak down to him in front of a student and Lyra couldn't resist smirking up at him. His black eyes flashed and his snarl could have cracked every mirror in the castle. He was murderous.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor! Lyra, I'm revolted by this behaviour, I trusted that you listened to my warning the night you arrived but clearly my words fell on deaf ears!" The disappointment in her voice hurt more than the abhorrent gleam in her eyes, Lyra bit her wobbling pouting lips and dropped her gaze to her now sodden shoes.
"But Draco said—," her excuse slipped out before she could stop herself and it only exacerbated her professor's sighs.
"For heaven's sake Miss Black, do not rise to that silly boy's bait!" whispered McGonagall furiously, bending down to meet her eye. "You're better than this!"
"Is she?" muttered Snape under his breath. Lyra chose to ignore his comment but it still cut deep. "Miss Black needs an appropriate punishment, and since Mr Malfoy is in my house I feel as though I should have the final say?" His voice was low and dark, the growl was malicious yet nowhere near as scolding as Professor McGonagall's.
Lyra gulped. He was going to make her pay.
"Shall we say, no flying lessons for Miss Black?" suggested Snape, his eyebrow arching. Her heart plummeted out of her chest and onto the floor, it was like Snape had ripped it out himself and stomped on it.
"Wait! That's not fair!" cried Lyra, an octave higher than she intended. Ever since she found out that Giselle had been on the Quidditch team her excitement for flying had sky-rocketed, the hole in her chest had been filled with a new appetite, but Professor Snape extinguished all of those new dreams in one sentence. The morning bell tolled throughout the castle, signalling it was time for the first lesson of the day, but to Lyra it was just another depressing sound.
"It's completely fair, Miss Black," said Snape, "maybe you will learn your lesson this time?"
She couldn't bring herself to fight back so instead she mumbled, "Yes sir."
"Well then," McGonagall cleared her throat and started to herd her from the hall, "you will spend your hour in the library with Madam Pince, may I suggest you start your Transfiguration essay?"
Lyra avoided everyone's faces as she shuffled out of the hall and luckily the two professors trusted her enough to make her own way to the library. She could still feel Snape's sneer on her back but the sound of her name from a warmer voice dissipated the dull sadness in her chest and she turned to see that someone had waited for her.
"Are you ok?" asked Harry, actively avoiding Snape's beady eyes from the shadows of the dungeons entrance, and Lyra nodded, slightly taken aback that someone cared. His smile was bright and friendly but she had trouble meeting his eye.
"It could have gone better but, uh, yeah I'm fine," she admitted, fiddling with the strap of her backpack. "You didn't have to wait—,"
"But I wanted to," interrupted Harry quickly, trying to catch her eye as she tried to walk away, "I wanted to say thank you."
Lyra looked up from her bag, puzzled. "Thank you?"
"Yeah, that was probably the best thing I've ever seen," laughed Harry, replaying Draco's high-pitched screams in his mind, "he deserved that."
"Right? He was begging for it!" agreed Lyra, having no trouble looking him in the eye now. "I couldn't let him insult you or Ron anymore, I had to do it."
Harry glanced at the huge open doors that led out into the ground and grimaced. "Ron wanted to stay too but he was a bit preoccupied with shouting at Hermione." His green eyes met Lyra's again and she saw the blush appear in his cheeks. "She was really out of order back there, she shouldn't have done that to you at all, let alone in front of Malfoy."
"I…" Her voice trailed off. Harry's friendliness felt almost foreign, but it struck a chord with Lyra. Hermione's action wounded her more than she thought it would but hearing someone side with her made all of her emotions feel valid. She could tell he really meant it and she flashed him a lopsided smile. "Thank you, Harry."
His blush turned from a faint peach to a vivid crimson and he absently ran a hand through his hair. "It's nothing…" Harry pointed towards the doors, "We're late, Madam Hooch is going to shout at us."
Lyra cringed, wincing again. "No, you're late. Snape decided that missing our flying lesson would be my appropriate punishment," she spat out in a poor imitation of their Potions Master, and Harry groaned.
"What? But that's not fair!"
"That's what I said!" cried Lyra with a huff. "You've got to promise me that whatever happens in the lesson you have to beat Draco, even if you're polishing brooms your broom has to be shinier than his."
Harry nodded, suddenly determined.
"Absolutely. Snape should have given you detention like a normal teacher, not stop you from attending a class! I swear he's a real vampire, do you think he looks like an overgrown bat or is it just me?" The distaste in Harry's voice widened Lyra's smile. Hearing someone else hate Snape as much as she did felt like a win in itself.
"It's not just you! Do you think that's why he's so pale? I've never seen him eat," deduced Lyra knowingly, and Harry looked inspired.
"I think we're onto something there," he agreed.
The Entrance Hall was completely deserted now, only the pair of them remained, and Lyra glanced at her watch. Harry was really late now.
"You should go, I don't want to get you in any more trouble," sighed Lyra and she pulled a face. "I don't want Hermione telling me I'm a bad influence again!"
Harry's smile faltered. "She said you were a bad influence? On who? Me?"
Lyra blinked, her face startlingly red from her slip-up.
"Uh, well, yeah."
"Because I'm famous?" he asked bluntly.
Lyra nodded in defeat. Why should she lie to him now?
"She warned me not to get you into trouble again because you're the Dude-That-Didn't-Die, or whatever," she admitted glumly, and he snorted at the title.
"I think I prefer that to Boy-Who-Lived," said Harry quietly, frowning at a distant thought, "technically isn't every boy the Boy-Who-Lived?"
"Honestly Harry, if there's one thing I've learnt about the wizarding world so far is that wizards love hyphenated words and nothing makes sense," said Lyra. She caught his eye again and he smirked.
"I couldn't agree more."
" POTTER! BLACK! WHAT ARE YOU TWO STILL DOING HERE?! TEN POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!"
Snape's booming voice echoed in the cavernous arched ceilings of the entrance hall and the pair jolted, frightened by his sheer volume. They glanced back and spotted the enraged Potions Master emerge from the shadows, eyes alight through the darkness, and Lyra shoved Harry towards the doors.
"Has he been there the whole time?" wondered Harry.
"You better run, he looks thirsty!" she exclaimed, making him laugh as he sprinted away.
Lyra didn't dare look back as she ran from the entrance hall, sweat pouring from her brow. She puffed and clutched the cramp in her ribs but refused to stop until she reached the doors of the library. She couldn't say for certain that Snape wasn't on her tail so she slipped inside and hurried to find herself an empty table amongst the maze of towering, dusty bookshelves.
It wasn't until Lyra caught sight of the first year flying lesson from one of the windows that she found the perfect study space. She abandoned her backpack on the table and rushed over to the window, throwing it open and feeling the gentle breeze on her face. She had to squint to make out the familiar faces of the dots on the ground (the white blonde speck was the easiest to make out, to Lyra's disgust) but soon she lost concentration altogether when her eyes blurred and she started to daydream about riding a broom for the first time.
Lyra had never been on a rollercoaster before but she imagined that both activities inspired the same amounts of adrenaline, and her stomach started fluttering excitedly at the prospect of one day experiencing it for real.
Her fantasies continued and her fourteen year old mother appeared within them, zooming around on her own broom, and Lyra pictured her laughing face as she flew, she could almost feel the pure happiness that radiated from Giselle. She looked so beautiful and carefree, she was ecstatic in the photograph in the trophy room and Lyra hoped that she was always that happy when she was alive. This new discovery shifted her view on her mother, it gave her shape and colour, another dimension to the woman she never knew, but her train of thought shifted onto another face and she thought of Giselle's teammate James Potter.
James looked exactly like his son, and Lyra pouted when she remembered Harry's reaction. She sensed his discomfort and unfamiliarity straight away, she recognised her own emotions in him, and her heart panged hard. Lyra never thought she would relate to someone else in this way, she never connected with any of the other orphans at Coles before so why would a new face with no family strike such a chord with her now? The images of Giselle howling in glee as she flew merged with the laughing visage of Harry's dad, but before Lyra could fantasise about their parents' past two dark blurs flashed past the window.
Lyra stifled her yelp and shoved her head out of the window, trying to figure out what just happened, but her grin came easily when she spotted Draco and Harry zoom past on their brooms. It looked as though they were racing to catch something and her stomach did a somersault when she realised how close to the ground they were — they were going to crash land at any second.
Fighting the urge to look away, Lyra watched Draco crumble to pressure and divert his broom leaving Harry victorious as he reached out and seized the invisible object. The black dots that were their classmates yelled in delight, their screams carrying up to Lyra with the wind, and she watched happily as the class shunned the sour pale blonde dot. Whatever Harry did had royally pissed off Draco, best case scenario!
In the euphoria of the moment, Lyra stuck her head out of the window again and cupped her hands around her mouth. With the deepest breath she could muster, she let out her loudest scream yet.
"NICE ONE POTTER! SUCK ON THAT DRACO!"
The dots shifted and she faintly saw them crane their necks up towards her. The dot that was Harry ran closer and shouted something back, and thankfully the early autumn wind helped his words reach her ears.
"YOU'RE WELCOME BLACK!"