Before she was introduced to Hogwarts, Lyra loved the summer holidays.
It was her favourite time of year, how could it not be? She was free from the chains that was her awful primary school and she was allowed to spend as much time away from Coles Children's Home as she desired. She didn't have to feel the scorching spots on her back from the eyes of the other kids all the time while they secretly plotted the best way to set her off into an angry, magic-fuelled frenzy. And she got to bug Danielle 24/7. If she needed her key worker on her days off then she knew where to find her, the address to the small studio apartment above Weymouth's second best Chinese high street takeaway was ingrained in her memory. It was ten weeks of sweet, glorious bliss and she was glad to be alone for the most of it.
But not now. Summer holidays sucked ass!
Lyra grew to despise summer quickly, it only took her a couple of days. The second she arrived back in Dorset she had to pretend to be little old Jane Cole, the Muggle who had no friends and no future, and she hid Lyra Black and everything she had grown to be over the past year. Thankfully she didn't have to hide everything, with the help of Danielle they came up with the perfect lie to explain why she had suddenly turned up with a barn owl so she was allowed to keep Apollo in her room. No one ever visited Jane's tiny room at the very back of the house so she wasn't too worried about anyone seeing her collection of school books with their animate covers or her peculiar parchment that she had to use for her homework.
Lyra bought some coloured parchments from a vintage stationary shop in town to jazz up her homework. Unfortunately she noticed the instructions on Professor McGonagall's essay outline were underlined to emphasise her specific parchment requirements as though she were pre-scolding Lyra for being difficult. The other professors, however, never gave her strict instructions and she couldn't wait to see Snape's reaction to her glittery rolls of emerald parchment that shed obscene amounts of gold sparkles into the reader's hands. It was going to end with weeks worth of detentions so she spent days perfecting her essays so Snape couldn't mark her down regardless.
The other children at Coles stayed away from Lyra from the moment she strolled through the front door to give her pet owl a tour of the home, not one of them asked her where she had been for most of the year nor did anyone attempt to visit her bedroom to pry. She was immensely relieved at their indifference, she knew the other kids would continue to pretend that she didn't exist. She caught a few nasty hisses of gossip about her as she passed them in the hallways or the kitchen but she much preferred that over being involved in the malicious conversations. Although, the impish urge to spur on the wicked rumours didn't help her situation and she couldn't resist encouraging them to get creative with their assumptions.
"I heard from Sarah that it's not a real school, it's a nutcase house pretending to be a school," whispered one of the new kids, a lanky dark haired boy that looked a little bit like a goldfish, as Lyra arrived in the kitchen to make her fifth cup of Earl Grey of the day. Johnny, a strapping, gap-toothed blonde fourteen year old who was known for his blistering wrist burn technique, snickered and slapped the new kid on the arm, nodding towards Lyra. Johnny was a massive pain in her arse, he wasn't as bad as Rachel (no-one was, not even Draco) but he was a tad slow. It always took him a while to conjure a comeback so Lyra rather enjoyed their back-and-forths.
"Go on, ask her," encouraged Johnny, watching Lyra as she focused on finding a clean mug.
"Ask me what?" she said coolly, not bothering to turn around as she shuffled through the cluttered cupboards.
"Are straitjackets a part of your uniform or is there a way we can write to your 'school' and put in a request that you need one?" wondered Johnny, overjoyed with his insult and he wiggled his bushy brows as Lyra glanced over her shoulder and scoffed.
"Sure, but the letter needs to be written in your own blood or else they won't accept it since, you know, it's a school for crazy people and freaks," she informed him as though she were being serious, and Johnny's brows furrowed, confused.
"Don't worry, I can help you draw some if you like," she teased, turning around to flash him the butter knife she swiped from the counter, "or I can get my owl, his talons are particularly sharp today so it wouldn't take him long."
The boys looked horrified.
"Ugh!" the new boy cringed and clambered out of his chair, wanting to get as far away from her as possible. "You're right, she is weird."
"Told ya," Johnny sneered, and he shot Lyra a mean lour as he followed the other boy out of the kitchen, "c'mon, let's go and see Rachel, she'll love to hear about this."
Lyra watched them go with a sour pout. "It was a joke!" she shouted after them, chucking the knife on the kitchen side, disappointed with her audience, "can't anyone take a goddamn joke around here?!"
Granted, the knife was a bit much but the theatrics of it was half the fun!
With Lyra in Scotland for most of the year, Rachel had free reign of Coles and took advantage of her absence to further encourage the cruel rumours about Lyra's freak nature. A tiny part of Lyra hoped that the time and space apart would give Rachel some perspective. Maybe she would be a little warmer towards her now she didn't have to see her every day, but deep down she knew Rachel would be the exact same aggravating, mean teenage girl who loved to taunt those who were smaller than her.
The pair's feud restarted the second they were in sight of each other. Lyra managed to avoid Rachel for two whole days before she was forced to face her and she was pretty proud of that achievement since Coles wasn't exactly a mansion. All of the children's bedrooms were on the ground floor and the communal bathrooms were sparse.
Lyra was sitting on the graffitied picnic bench in the front garden, concentrating on creating the right shade of paint for Apollo's golden feathers as he posed for her in the orange beams of sunlight, when she spotted Rachel strutting over the peak of the hilly dirt road towards her. She was showing off her newly-formed curves in a pair of white denim shorts and a scandalous tank top that would make the head carer Sandra holler if she caught Rachel wearing it. They met each other's eyes and their scowls appeared in unison, irritated at the mere sight of the other and the usual tension between the pair came back in a blink of an eye. It was like she never left.
"This is the girl I've been telling you about," muttered Lyra to her owl, watching her bully warily as she switched paths to antagonise the poor girl. Apollo's hoot was deeper than usual and he turned to stare at the newcomer, Lyra swore she saw his black eyes narrow in suspicion.
"Ew, I really thought we got rid of you for good," greeted Rachel, sneering as she realised that the bird in front of her was a barn owl, "and just when I thought you couldn't get any weirder—,"
"You know, we don't actually have to acknowledge each other," interrupted Lyra, "you could have walked into the house and pretended that we weren't here. You're not contractually-bound to piss me off."
"It looks like they don't teach classes in manners at your freak school," Rachel snapped back, slipping her fluffy handbag onto her shoulder so her hands were free to grasp her hips, "is that thing your only friend?"
"That thing is an owl, you know what an owl is, right?" snorted Lyra, happily jabbing Rachel's buttons and riling her up. The pink in her already sunburnt cheeks faded to red, betraying her quick-tempered intentions.
"Oh shut up," spat Rachel, stepping closer in an attempt to intimidate the smirking girl on the bench, "do you remember that I'm three years older than you, right? I'm much stronger than you, do you want to try and talk your way out of a headlock?"
Lyra's motivation to continue painting whittled away and she sighed, swivelling in her seat to face her properly, but her smirk grew into an impish smile. As much as she would have liked to prove Rachel wrong and beat her in a physical fight she played it cool and mentally searched through her leftover potion bottles in her trunk, coming up with a devilish plan to prank her with whatever concoctions she had to hand.
Rachel's new glittery manicured fingers caught Lyra's eye and she arched a brow as she took her bully's new appearance in properly. Her body wasn't the only thing that had changed over the past year. Rachel clearly cared a lot more about her appearance now and her obsession with cutesy accessories had evolved into its next stage, her bright blonde hair was perfectly straight and her glistening pink and gold jewellery glowed in the afternoon sun, almost blinding Lyra. She would never admit it but she much preferred this new polished Rachel over the Lisa Frank inspired Rachel she was before, but her makeup was still a little bit too much.
"You wouldn't put me in a headlock, you'll break a nail," teased Lyra, snickering at her over-plucked eyebrows, "may I suggest kicking me instead?"
"Shut up, at least I care about my looks," growled Rachel, visibly scrutinising Lyra with a cruel up-and-down, and she scoffed, "you look like a tramp, do you even own a hairbrush?"
Lyra's eyes stung for a moment and she instinctively smoothed her wild black hair out of her eyes, startled by how offended she was by Rachel's remark. She had been called ugly and messy before but it never stuck, Rachel's insults usually bounced off her like rubber on concrete but this time her words plunged into her skin and twisted, wounding her. The voices in the back of her head rushed to resolve her sudden identity crisis… was she horrible-looking?
Maybe spending time in front of the mirror in the morning isn't such a bad idea…?
Nuh uh, that's not important. It's what's inside that counts, what's the point in focusing on looks?
Making an effort to look nice isn't discrediting personality, one doesn't outweigh the other. What's the harm in looking pretty and being the funniest in the room?
It would be kinda nice I guess…
"Of course I own a hairbrush," muttered Lyra through gritted teeth, trying not to give away that Rachel had hit a nerve, but her bully knew her too well.
"Well then you need to learn how to use it," Rachel taunted, relishing in her success as Lyra's freckled face started to burst with colour, "and while you're at it, maybe look up the definition of a bra in the dictionary. Clearly you've never heard of one before and you need one."
Lyra's stomach hurtled to her feet and she cringed, hating how quickly her body reacted to this new type of shame. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Rachel, humiliated by her insinuations and observations. Her advice was genuine; she was using her maturity to her advantage and it was the one thing Lyra couldn't trump. She was only wearing a simple t-shirt and cropped jeans but she suddenly felt more exposed than ever before.
Now she was a pre-teen, Lyra noticed that her body was changing but she turned a blind eye out of sheer naivety. If she didn't acknowledge the changes then she would be fine… right?
Wrong. Lyra was growing up and she needed to acknowledge herself in a way that she had never done before. Of course she knew these changes would happen, she overheard countless rude whispers in the communal girls bathroom whilst growing up at Coles but she tried not to dwell on the gross adult side of life. That was impossible now, these milestones had finally come to greet her like a slap in the face. I feel so awful, being a girl sucks!
Unable to find a witty comeback, Lyra stammered over her tongue and Rachel cackled, flicking the pink sunglasses that were perched on her head down onto her face and stretching her arms. It was remarkably rare that she won a verbal match against Lyra and the sly grin on her glitter-glossed lips felt colder than ever. Rachel was on cloud nine now she had found a new tender spot of Lyra's to jab and she sauntered off, immensely proud of herself.
"You're lucky that I've grown up, I wouldn't dare hit a child anymore, especially an ugly one like you," mocked Rachel from the front porch before she headed inside, her sneer a lot colder now she was standing in the shade, "come and try me again once you're turned into a woman, freak."
Lyra watched her disappear in silence, feeling quite lost and confused in the wave of powerful emotions that had swarmed her out of nowhere. The sunlight that had been warming her up now felt insufferably prickly and sharp splinters from the wooden bench poked the backs of her legs, increasing her discomfort. Her physical body felt strangely suffocating, she hated this feeling and she cursed Rachel for burdening her with these new worries. Was she really that horrible to look at? No one except Danielle had complimented her appearance, and even then that was a shaky compliment at most since her key worker detested her taste in clothes. She had once described Lyra's style as 'a visually-impaired pixie trapped in a record shop' and by the wrinkling of Danielle's nose whenever they went clothes shopping that it wasn't something to be proud of.
The tension birthed from her encounter with Rachel lingered within Lyra for days. Her insecurities about her body were constantly on her mind and she found herself pouting at her reflection in the mirror more often than usual. Were her freckles nice-looking? Her eyes were too big, her ears stuck out too much, she was getting a little chubby around her hips, was that a spot?! Some of her clothes were starting to grow tight in places they never had before and a dull thudding ache dug its roots into her stomach and camped there for days at a time. Her mood dipped more than the looping roller coaster down by the nearby pier and the urge to cry surprised her at the strangest times. This new feeling was ruining her life and she was afraid that she was slowly dying, but the root of all her problems made itself known during her fourth week back in Weymouth.
"Oh my God I am actually dying! I knew it!"
Lyra stared in horror in her paint-flecked mirror at the bright red stain on the back of her favourite combat trousers. "This is the end! I'm internally bleeding!"
After wrapping three shirts around her waist to cover her life-threatening injuries, Lyra frantically ran around the house in search of Danielle. The universe was merciful and granted her a stroke of luck. Her key worker was staying over tonight and she found her in the back garden, hosing down the muddy tracks on the patio from the younger kids' dirt bikes. The second she saw Lyra's panicked expression she clutched her chest and threw the hosepipe away, not fazed by the splashes of cool water on her legs.
"What's wrong? Are you ok? Is it code red?" Danielle spluttered, checking for eavesdroppers as she came unnaturally close to Lyra and her volume dropped, "do I need to get someone else to help?"
Ever since she came back from school, Lyra noticed that Danielle had become increasingly wary of magical threats and she hazarded a guess as to why.
The impending conversation regarding her encounter with Lord Voldemort and Quirrell hung over Lyra like a heavy rain cloud on the car journey home from Kings Cross. Wanting to rid herself of her worry, she addressed her issue straight away and discussed everything that happened under the trapdoor with Danielle the night she arrived home. They sat on her plump new bed (as a small welcome home present Danielle revamped Lyra's bedroom with a few decorations to make the room feel more 'teenagery' and she replaced Lyra's dingy mattress after remembering her complaints), cups of Earl Grey in their hands, and a generous plate of brownies to help them through the heavy topics. She spoke about the wizards' insistence about her performing dark magic and Danielle soothed her anxieties as professionally as always.
She assured Lyra they were wrong and she told her she needed to study the Dark Arts in order to use them. They were dark wizards who were trying to trick and confuse her, they were speaking nonsense. However the wobble in her voice when they discussed the Dark Lord was more prominent the longer they went on. Lyra heard Danielle's fear in her voice and she tried not to natter on too much so she didn't scare her, although the word Voldemort slipped out a few too many times and she felt guilty whenever her carer worker flinched.
"No, no, it's nothing to do with that," dismissed Lyra, hopping on the spot on the patio as she hugged her stomach. The cramps had gotten worse and she groaned, exasperated by her internal bleeding, "it's a different kind of code red — Danielle, I'm dying!"
"Uh," Danielle paused and surveyed her face, wondering if she was overexaggerating or playing a prank, "huh?"
Fighting a blush, Lyra spun around and flashed the blood stain at her, "Look!"
The panic immediately melted off Danielle's face and, to Lyra's horror, she giggled.
"You're laughing! Why are you laughing at my death?!" Lyra whimpered, screwing her face up, "some carer you are!"
"Oh sweetheart, no I'm sorry! Listen, you're not dying and I know how to help," Danielle gushed, slipping her arm around Lyra's shoulders and leading her inside to deal with her newest problem. The pair slipped up the stairs to the staff quarters and into the nautical-themed bathroom that Danielle shared with her colleagues. It was much cleaner and well-organised than the kids bathrooms and Lyra admired the huge mounted bass on the wall above the bath.
After fiddling around in the wicker drawers by the sink, Danielle turned to Lyra and gave her the kindest, matronly smile she could muster. Its appearance was like a small hug and Lyra stopped freaking out and froze, a little surprised.
"What?"
"It's time you and I had a little girly chat," she announced, revealing the stack of flimsy floral-wrapped sanitary towels in her hands, "welcome to womanhood, chick!"
Once she had showered and changed into a fresh set of pyjamas, Danielle and Lyra perched on the side of the bathtub and dove deep into the infamous menstruation conversation that Danielle had been preparing for. Lyra sat there in a mixture of awe, horror, and fascination as she absorbed the new information her guardian spouted and she scoffed incredulously when she found out that her period occurred every single month. The uncomfortable dull aching inside of her slowly made sense and Danielle gave her all the information and resources she needed to get used to her new self, but the struggle with her appearance still plagued her.
"—and that's everything you need to know from a Muggle standpoint but it might be worth you finding a book about menstruation from a wizarding point of view. I imagine that there are some wicked potions out there that will help with your cramps," finished Danielle, and Lyra started to wonder if she could find anything magical to help with her appearance.
"Does this mean that my face will change too? Will I get prettier?" she asked innocently, and Danielle frowned.
"Has Rachel been saying nasty things to you again?" she guessed, inspecting her pouting face as she smoothed away Lyra's black hair from her eyes, and Lyra dropped her gaze, a little embarrassed.
"...Maybe."
The sigh Danielle emitted was rough, she was visibly enraged by the ongoing feud between Rachel and Lyra. She was afraid that Rachel would finally destroy Lyra's self-esteem and she fought very hard to try and resolve this issue.
"Lyra, darling, listen to me — you are a very pretty girl and Rachel is just trying to get under your skin. She was in your position when I first joined Coles, she knows exactly how you're feeling and she's projecting her own insecurities onto you because she knows how upsetting it is," she explained softly, but she couldn't stop herself from adding, "unless there's another reason why you want to look pretty…?"
Lyra blinked. Huh?
"And what would that reason be?" she wondered, narrowing her eyes.
Danielle's lips twitched, failing to hide her knowing smile. "Is there anyone you're trying to impress? Because you shouldn't change how you look for anyone else—,"
Sweetheart, she thinks you have a crush on someone.
Lyra burst out laughing and shook her head. "Ha! God no! Boys are fun but they're gross," she giggled, smirking at her.
"So there are no cute boys at school?" asked Danielle, trying to take a peek into Lyra's private thoughts, and Lyra shrugged.
She never really looked at boys in that way, most of them were put off by her explosive attitude and she never joined in the girly chats with Lavender, Parvati and Sally in the girls dorm. Her and Hermione tended to be too busy reading or investigating Quirrell to pay much attention to the boy-centric gossip sessions.
"Probably, I haven't noticed. I don't really look at boys like that," she admitted, and Danielle snickered, nudging her in the ribs.
"Let's have this chat in a year's time, I can assure you that your opinions will have changed by then," she sighed, enjoying Lyra's repulsed expression. Yeah right!
"I highly doubt it, but sure," she eventually agreed, shoving her hair into a messy topknot and getting ready to retire to her bedroom for the night. She was waiting for Apollo to return from his cross-country deliveries so she could write yet another letter to Harry and bug him to reply to her dozens of unanswered messages.
She was yet to receive one and it had been a whole month since they last saw each other at the train station. Coles' communal phone didn't ring and Danielle swore Harry hadn't gotten in touch with her either so she wasn't sure what exactly was happening at his aunt and uncle's house. Her stomach fluttered anxiously whenever she thought about her best friend's wellbeing and her mind raced with different uneasy scenarios. Was he ok? Why wasn't he writing back? Had she pestered him too much?
"I'm off to write to Harry again," she announced as she thought of making yet another cup of Earl Grey, "thank you for helping me with my, uh, code red."
"That's why I'm here," smiled Danielle, yawning as she stretched her back from her awkward bathtub sitting position, "ugh I'm getting old, that hurt. Has Harry replied yet or…?"
"Still nothing," sighed Lyra, pausing at the door to pout at her, "I think he might be in trouble."
Danielle nodded in agreement, her eyes crinkled in sadness. "I'm worried too. I think it's time we go to Surrey."
Lyra's stomach flipped and her whole face lit up in glee. She had been bugging Danielle for weeks to go! "Really?! Yes! Finally!"
"We'll talk about it properly after our little trip into town tomorrow, there's quite a few bits you need now and we need to celebrate your womanhood properly with a huge ice cream sundae," Danielle decided, herding her out of the bathroom and down the stairs, "and then depending on traffic we'll either go tomorrow or the next day."
"But that's your day off?" noticed Lyra.
"There's nothing I love more than a road trip on my day off," Danielle reassured her, energised by the thought of judging a new set of service stations, "and it's my duty to check up on vulnerable children. Besides, I've heard Surrey is quite lovely this time of year. Maybe we could go and visit Hampton Court Palace or take a trip around Guildford?"
Lyra paused at the bottom of the stairs and smirked up at her, wiggling her brows. She knew she had an ulterior motive.
"Yeah right, you just wanna hang out with a celebrity!" she teased, and Danielle covered her face, completely over Lyra's teasing. She took great joy in bringing up Harry's celebrity status whenever the pair spoke about him in private and the dark blush in Danielle's cheeks never failed to make her smile. It was hilarious!
"Jane! Go to bed!" Danielle scolded, guffawing after the cheeky girl who chirped a bright goodnight.
"I just don't understand why I need so many of them!" complained Lyra, shaking the shopping bags carrying her new clothes as she pulled them out of the boot of Danielle's silver Ford.
It was a beautiful sunny day and the pair spent most of their morning and afternoon traipsing around the town shops by the harbour trying to find everything Lyra needed. Danielle dubbed their shopping trip a massive success because she succeeded in persuading Lyra to buy some stylish outfits to incorporate into her wardrobe as well as her new necessities. Lyra knew her moment of weakness in saying yes had cost her dearly.
"What are you talking about? You look adorable in those new dresses! They're very pretty," cooed Danielle, smirking at her as she swung the plastic bags onto her shoulder and the car locked with a shrill beep.
"But I can't wear them, I look gross. My legs are covered in bruises and scars," Lyra reiterated her hatred for her legs and scowled at her key worker. The sun was blinding today and she screwed her face up, her eyes watering from brightness, and the pair quickly escaped from the heat and staggered inside, panting for a glass of icy water.
"That's what the socks are for, darling," explained Danielle, dumping her bags on Lyra's bedroom floor and removing her skinny sunglasses, "they'll cover all of your injuries and maybe it'll inspire you to be a little more careful?"
Lyra shoved the bags onto her bed and slumped down next to them, exhausted from the heat. "I don't have a skateboard anymore so I've not fallen off and scraped myself in a while."
Danielle crashed down next to Lyra and glanced down at her bruised legs. She was wearing camo shorts today as the temperature was unbearable and the purple splotches on her shins and knees stood out against her freckled pale skin.
"And how did you get those?" Danielle wondered, and Lyra hid her smirk by turning to sort out her purchases.
"I was trying to see if I could climb down to the beach from the drop at the end of the road but before you tell me off, can you really blame me? Without my skateboard, going out and exploring is boring!" Lyra defended herself, and Danielle rolled her eyes.
"You've got your camera, you've got your paints, and you've still got loads of old fabric," she pointed out, tutting at the piles of materials overcrowding her desk, "there's a lot for you to do around here besides going out and climbing cliffs! I told you not to do that anymore!"
"I'm lacking inspiration, I need a muse. You can't force genius, Danielle," Lyra said factually, nodding at her open yet bear sketchbook nearby. "I'll paint when I'm ready."
"You artists are all the same," she joked with a hefty sigh, but a loud yell from beyond the bedroom door caught her attention and she poked her head out of the door to investigate.
"Eesh, I think Sandra needs me. Tidy your room and put away your clothes, I might be a while," she muttered, smoothing her white blouse and tawny leather skirt. The glittery gold necklaces around her neck caught Lyra's eye and she rushed to help correct her crooked jewellery before she let her go. Once she was a bit more presentable, Danielle disappeared down the uneven hallway and Lyra turned to her chaotic room with a miserable sigh. She never knew how her bedroom got so messy in the first place. The piles of clothes and belongings grew around her, it was like her bedroom was infected with invisible imps whose aim was to make her life as messy as possible, but she kicked off her shoes, clicked 'play' on her Walkman, and lazily started her cleaning as she boogied to an energising Cher ballad.
A distraction in the form of Apollo appeared mere minutes later and Lyra thanked him with a kiss on his feathered crown. Her stomach bubbled, she anticipated seeing Harry's hurried scribbles on the envelope but instead she spotted Ron's messy scrawls and squealed, frantically ripping the letter open and reading it as fast as her eyes allowed.
Lyra,
Thank you for the sweets but I'm still right in saying that wizard sweets are so much tastier, although the cherry edible ring was the coolest. We don't have any wearable sweets like the Muggles do.
Lyra had to agree with Ron, wizarding sweets were a lot more fun and bizarre but she still felt a little weird eating sweets that pretended to be alive. Chocolate frogs were by far the worst, they were really cute and she felt like a monster every time she bit one of its hopping legs off.
I still haven't heard from Harry either and I dunno if Hermione has yet, I'm still waiting for her reply. Did you know that her grandmother lives in France, how cool is that?! I don't think she'll be able to come over this summer but I think we might be able to meet up with her when we go shopping before school.
Lyra made a mental note to ring Hermione once she sent off her reply, she couldn't wait for Ron's next letter and she needed to know if she had heard from Harry right now. The panicky butterflies got worse and transformed into wriggling snakes.
Fred and George wrote to Harry as well but he hasn't replied to them either. Mum reckons we give it until his birthday to reply but if we haven't heard from him then we're gonna go and get him ourselves, but on the bright side she also mentioned that Danielle confirmed the dates you can stay!
"Finally!" cried Lyra, grinning at the letter in her hands.
Writing to her second cousins was great but it wasn't the same as talking to them face to face. She had been writing to Ginny the most, she had so many questions to ask her and she was thrilled to find out that Ginny had equally as many questions too. She was very passionate about Quidditch and the girls traded letters that were longer than Lyra's desk about the sport they adored.
We're coming to get you on the thirtieth and you're staying at ours until we go back to school! Make sure you bring that comic you wrote about — the one about the guy with a special school where people had unique powers — because I was talking to Percy about it and he says the plot sounds ridiculous and I want to prove him wrong.
Can't wait to see you!
Love Ron
P.S If I help you with your Herbology homework can you help me with Snape's essays?
"Deal!" Lyra answered out loud, shuddering at the thought of doing the one piece of homework she had neglected so far. She hadn't bothered opening her plant anthology yet and she happily continued to ignore it now she knew she was getting help. The prospect of spending the rest of the summer with the Weasleys was invigorating and Lyra jumped into her chair to write her rushed reply. She fed Apollo a few owl treats and gave him a loving hug, she hated when he was gone and she knew he hated being apart from her too as his gaze was gloomier than usual.
"Sorry bud, I know you just got here but after this one you can rest," she mumbled, stroking her owl as she gave him the letter. With one last peck Apollo hopped onto her windowsill and flew off into the warm blue sky with a flutter of his wings.
With her mind set on finding out the mystery behind Harry's lack of correspondence, Lyra swiped a folded piece of parchment from her sketchbook and headed to the foyer so she could use the only free-to-use phone in the entire house.
As much as the novelty of sending owls was delightful, Hermione and Lyra quickly gave up with the slow communication method and opted for a much faster solution. They agreed to ring each other at least four times a week, usually in the evening before dinner, but they could only talk for an hour as that was the maximum limit Lyra was allowed. She loved her telephone conversations with Hermione, the looks of jealousy on the other kids' faces whenever they tried to eavesdrop was extremely satisfying and she felt very much like a cool teenager in a movie as she curled her finger around the phone cord while she chatted away.
Considering Lyra always rang Hermione after five o'clock, she had no idea if the Grangers were going to be home. With her fingers crossed she slid onto the frilly pouffe beside the ancient landline phone and dialled the number she had almost memorised, silently praying for someone to pick up.
As she counted the ringing in her ear, Lyra's gaze floated to the closed double doors hiding the key workers' office where muffled voices were chuckling away behind the weathered wood. The office that was strictly used for meetings and filing paperwork was by far the nicest section of Coles. It was a sweeping front room with the same low wood beams that ran through the whole cottage but the sea blue wallpaper was scuff-free and the shiny albeit uneven floors were waxed and smooth. None of the Coles kids were allowed in there unsupervised and Sandra made it her life's mission to keep the room in pristine condition. Usually when the doors were closed it meant that something serious was happening, the seashell patterned glass panels running down the sides of the doors were covered for extra privacy and Lyra couldn't stop trying to catch any signs of movement behind them. Maybe it's another damned soul? As if I need another set of eyes glaring at me all the time.
Suddenly Lyra heard Mr Granger's voice in her ear and she jolted, realising someone had picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hi Mr Granger! It's Lyra, sorry to bother you!" she chirped, nibbling her lip as she anticipated a stiff hello, but his deep voice sounded cheerful instead of irritated and she smiled as he greeted her warmly.
"Good afternoon Lyra, you're not bothering us at all, in fact you rang at the perfect time as we've only just walked through the front door," he chuckled, and Lyra heard Hermione immediately pipe up in the background at the sound of her name.
"I assume you want to talk to Hermione?" he asked, and Lyra couldn't help herself.
"Actually I called to chat to you, how are you? How has your day been?" she wondered, her hand habitually finding the phone's wire and spinning it around. There was still no movement from behind the shaded glass.
As Mr Granger laughed heartily at her cheek, Lyra heard Hermione steal the phone from her father's hand, dying to speak to her best friend.
"Lyra? It's three o'clock, are you ok? What happened?" Hermione spat out, and Lyra chuckled at her urgency. Why did everyone expect something was wrong?
"Hi Hermione! I know, it's so nice to speak to you too!" She teased, "Am I not allowed to ring you before five?"
"Of course not! I just wasn't expecting your call, that's all. I'm glad you rang, I've bought some new books that I think you'll enjoy," said Hermione brightly, and Lyra shivered as she thought of their last conversation.
"I swear to God if they're Herbology books—,"
"No, I've given up with that although I did mention to Ron that you were adamant that it wasn't worth your time so you're not completely off the hook. Did you know he's already done it? I didn't want to say that I was impressed in case he got offended again but if Ron had no trouble with it then you certainly can do it," she said, although Lyra could hear this disapproval in her tone. At least she's learnt not to continue harping on about it!
"So that's why he offered to help me!" Lyra guffawed, admiring the sparkling rainbow patterns on the floor from the sun shining through the glazed front door. "I thought he was just being nice but now I know you're the mastermind behind it all…"
"Did he write to you already?" Hermione sounded shocked.
"Yeah, Apollo got here not long ago but I've already sent him back…" Lyra swapped hands so she could lean against the wall properly and she dropped her voice, glancing at the exits to check for eavesdroppers before adding, "Hermione, have you heard from Harry yet?"
For a split second Lyra clung onto the shimmering hope that she had received a letter and he was ok, but her hope died and blew away like dust in the wind when she replied with a simple, "No, nothing. I take it you haven't either?"
"Nope, not a single word," Lyra mumbled, her brows furrowing as she dropped her gaze to her lap, "I'm worried about him."
"So am I," agreed Hermione, her voice wobbling slightly. "Do you think…" she didn't want to say it, Lyra could feel it, "Do you think something bad has happened to him?"
"I don't know… hopefully not," she lied.
She knew for a cold hard fact that something was stopping him from writing to his friends. Now she knew it wasn't just her who was receiving a cold shoulder, her insecurities over Harry ditching her as a friend evaporated and she started to fixate on his awful family. It had to be them, from what he had told her they were fully capable of locking Hedwig away so he couldn't use her and her stomach cramped when she pictured his aunt and uncle finding the gifts she gave him and smashing them to pieces with a hammer. Was he in trouble right now? I need to go to Surrey, I need to know.
"I know Harry doesn't like to talk about his aunt and uncle so we won't get involved and pry," said Hermione softly, "but I still feel like we should do something. You know more about these types of situations than Ron and I do, is there anything we can do to help?"
"Danielle said we can go and visit him either today or tomorrow," admitted Lyra, tracing the camo print on her shorts with a slow finger, "I'm gonna try and convince her to go today, I think that's the best we can do for now."
Hermione sounded a lot more relieved. "That's a wonderful idea! Once you find out, give me a call and I'll pass it on to Ron as I doubt Apollo will be back in time," she explained, coming up with a plan in a blink of an eye, "do you have a pen nearby? I'm staying at my grandparents house for the week so I'll give you their telephone number just in case there's no answer here."
The purple biro next to the landline caught Lyra's eye and she clicked it open, getting ready to scribble as she trapped the phone between her ear and shoulder.
"Aaaaand I'm ready, hit me!"
"Three, three, four—," began Hermione, but as she listed off the numbers Lyra felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up straight and she instinctively looked up to see who was spying on her. The pen fell from her fingers when she realised that the curtain shielding the glass in the office door had been moved and the face of her ghoulish second cousin Draco Malfoy was pressing against it, grinning maliciously at her.
What the hell is he doing here?!
Lyra blinked hard and gawked back at him, almost in shock at his sudden appearance. Draco was here at Coles, he was in her Muggle domain where she was Jane and not Lyra, and he certainly didn't belong here. He couldn't see her like this, what if someone came out and mocked her in front of him? She couldn't really defend herself without him seeing and she knew he would bring it up all the time once they went back to school. He almost looked exactly the same as the last time she saw him — the same icy eyes, the same smug sneer, the same pale blonde hair, not much about him had changed but even from her pouffe a few feet away she could tell he was taller. Please don't be taller than me!
"—eight, eight, zero," Hermione's voice rattled around her left ear, finishing the French telephone number, and Lyra finally zoned back in as she focused on her friend. Her silver eyes never moved from Draco's and his grin got a little wider.
"Hermione, I really am sorry but I didn't hear any of that because Draco bloody Malfoy is staring at me," she blurted, a little nauseated, and Hermione scoffed.
"As if!"
"No, really, he's in the social worker's office opposite me, I swear to God and Merlin and Wizard Jesus," Lyra swore, not bothering to pretend that she wasn't gossiping about him with a wiggle of her eyebrows, and she dared to give him a patronising wave. His smile faltered and the familiar scowl she hadn't missed was back.
"What on earth is Draco doing there?" questioned Hermione suspiciously, "also I'm pretty sure Wizard Jesus is regular Jesus. The odds of his miracles being the work of magic is astonishing if you really think about it."
Lyra paused, sidetracked by her train of thought. "And the prophets were really Seers, I could get on board with that theory. It seems very ironic though considering Christians are famous for persecuting witches," she added.
"It would also explain why wizards celebrate Christmas, but then again paganism has been ineradicable in Britain for centuries, " wondered Hermione, sounding inspired, but she cut herself off with a huff, "enough about that, why is Draco in your home?"
"I dunno! Maybe he's dropped by to apologise for being a wanker?" she joked, and Hermione gasped, taken aback by her language.
"Lyra?!"
"Sorry," she smirked, not sounding it at all. She didn't want to admit it but being near the other Coles kids again had reminded her how fun it was to swear. She heard all sorts of colourful language in and around the orphanage, it was hard not to join in.
"Is he alone?" asked Hermione, and Lyra stretched in her seat, trying to catch a glimpse of the people behind Draco but the double doors swung open and the office's inhabitants came sauntering out. The sudden movement made Lyra jolt and she rushed to end the conversation with Hermione, promising to tell her everything as soon as possible. After messily scribbling down the French telephone number, she slammed the phone down and smiled innocently at the two care workers that were chuckling with the Malfoys.
Sandra, the head worker at Coles, stopped laughing and eyed Lyra as though looking for an excuse to belittle her so Lyra broadened her smile even more to please her. She was a middle-aged woman with sandy blonde spiky hair, pink square glasses that swallowed her square face, and ruby red wrinkled lips that made her already pale skin more ghastly.
"Were you using the phone without permission, Jane?" she barked, pursuing her lips as she spotted the swinging phone cord, and Lyra caught Draco's eye. He looked thrilled.
"Uh, only for a second, it was an emergency," she said sweetly, pocketing her parchment before it was confiscated, and she glanced at Danielle who was standing beside Mrs Malfoy with a guilty smile on her glossed lips. Its appearance knocked the confidence out of Lyra and she slumped against the wall as doubt creeped into her mind. The conversation she had with Danielle before they left Kings Cross flashed up and a loud whining in her stomach made her feel so much worse. She knew why the Malfoys were here… NO!
Sandra huffed but she brushed past her phone issue by turning to the Malfoys and flashing them the biggest smile yet.
"From what I understand you already know young Draco here but I want to formally introduce you to the Malfoy family, Jane," she continued, acting more professional than she had in her whole life, and Lyra hid her cringe with her fakest smile.
"Hi Draco," she said falsely, "it's so good to see you!"
"Mhm, yes Jane, it's so good to see you too," he drawled back, smoothing down the collar of his sleek emerald blazer as he returned her false smile. He looked quite illusive in his Muggle clothes, Lyra never thought she would see him in a blazer and stone grey sweater combo — especially in this heatwave — and the longer she stared the more she thought he was a hallucination. This wasn't happening, this wasn't real.
"And this is Lucius and Narcissa," finished Sandra, gesturing to the elegant couple beside her, and Lyra climbed to her feet to greet them properly. As much as she wanted to cross her arms and walk away without ever saying a word to Draco's parents, she knew Danielle would be severely disappointed in her for not giving them a chance. She would tell her that she didn't know them and that she wasn't being fair, and somewhere deep down she knew Danielle was right. What if, by some miracle, Draco was the anomaly and his parents were actually really nice and not at all racist?
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Lyra held her hand out and politely shook theirs, not wanting to come across as difficult in front of the carers, and the Malfoys looked pleasantly shocked.
"Likewise, and such a charming house you have here. Living by the sea is considered a luxury," purred Lucius, sounding somehow more pompous than his son, and she admired the silver detailing on his black suit jacket. His clothes were intricate and luxurious but they weren't wearing him, he held himself in a way that made him seem ten times bigger than his slender stature. He had the same icy stare at his son, the same sharp features, but his warm smile cracked the coldness in his demeanour and Lyra's muscles relaxed a little. She could tell he was an important man but the curious hisses at the back of her mind reminded her to stay cautious.
Remember what Ron said about the Malfoys? Lucius is bad news, he's pretending to be nice.
"We apologise for not introducing ourselves sooner but we didn't want to scare you," introduced Narcissa, and she side-eyed her son with a perfectly arched brow. Draco shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away to scowl. Lyra caught the exchange and she gave Narcissa a genuine smile, wondering if she punished her son for being mean to her. Did she know about their run-ins? She guessed Draco received a letter home after their food fight but she wasn't sure about their awareness of their forest bust-up, what had Draco told them?
"That's ok, this year has been a little overwhelming so I appreciate it," said Lyra, casually inspecting Narcissa's beautiful peacock blue and gold wrap dress. She looked like the host of an extravagant garden party with her perfectly pinned blonde curls, stiff straw hat, and glistening high cheekbones. She was the blood relative, Lyra was connected to the Malfoys through her and she absently searched her face for something familiar. Was there a piece of her in there?
"We completely understand," said Narcissa soothingly, and she caught the eyes of Danielle with a pre-planned signal, asking her to continue. Danielle walked over to Lyra and slid a hand around her shoulders, reassuring her with a few strokes. The gesture made Lyra's heart fretfully thud and she froze, waiting for the wave of bad news to crash over her, she knew what was coming.
"Jane, remember to keep your mind open while I tell you this," she warned her, and Lyra felt the lump form in her throat. This wasn't what they agreed, it was written in her case file that she didn't want anything to do with the Malfoys. Sandra glared at her from behind the Malfoys' backs and she bit her tongue, battling with herself to behave.
"...Tell me what?" she said through her teeth.
"The Malfoys have expressed great interest in adopting you and they have invited you to their house for lunch tomorrow. They want to get to know you better and I think it's a good idea if you give them a chance," Danielle explicated, using her professional tone to ease the process, and Lyra's shoulders sagged. For crying out loud, I told her I didn't want this!
You never know, it might be fun?
And Draco looks pissed, you could go and see what his house is like? Maybe he still sleeps with a teddy bear, you could take your camera?
"I see," murmured Lyra, glancing from Danielle to the Malfoys. They looked back expectantly, being more patient than most potential adoptive parents that visited the children at Coles. Draco, however, looked crushed, like they had just told him they were never celebrating his birthday ever again. His sorrow brought her great joy and decided to listen to the more mischievous voice in her head that wanted to have a little fun. There was no way they were adopting her, she was certain about that, but they didn't need to know that right now, she needed to see what they were up to — away from the Muggles.
"But what about Harry?" whispered Lyra, pouting up at Danielle so their company wouldn't hear, "you said we could go and see him."
"We'll go the following day, I pinky promise," swore Danielle, hooking her finger around hers to secure the deal, and Lyra eventually nodded. Harry would be ok for one more day… right?
"Ok, sure," Lyra sighed, smoothing her hair out of her eyes to give the Malfoys her brightest smile, "I'd love to have lunch with you, but can Danielle come too?"
"Of course, the more the merrier," enthused Narcissa, charmed with Lyra's positive answer, and she clasped her hand once more to show her appreciation. Her palms were silky smooth and she caught the whiff of heavy jasmine perfume as she moved to thank the social workers for their help. "I shall meet you here tomorrow at noon, without a Wiltshire native at your side you'll have some trouble finding the estate."
The inside joke brought a twinkle to Danielle's brown eyes and she was enamoured by the high class couple, agreeing to whatever they said.
"Perfect, we'll be ready on time, won't we Jane?" encouraged Danielle, teasing her for her tardiness and Lyra rolled her eyes.
"I'm never late," she purred, fluttering her eyelashes.
"You were late to every class during our first term," corrected Draco, failing to keep quiet, and he enjoyed her dirty look immensely.
"Not every class!"
The Malfoys left the house with another gracious farewell (Lyra and Draco tried their best keeping a straight face as they attempted to crush each other's fingers) and Lyra watched them disappear down the dirt road, muttering amongst themselves as they were lost to the spiky bushes trailing alongside the hill and she chewed her bottom lip until it was scarlet and swollen. She never expected to see that side of her family, especially under the guise of Jane the Muggle, but it went spectacularly well... almost too well. She held her tongue, she was courteous, and she didn't once accuse them of being racist. That was a big win for her, she couldn't deny that, and a small part of her wondered whether their lunch tomorrow would be just as pleasant.
"See? That wasn't so bad! I know you said no to them before but they're a wizarding family and I think you need that more than a Muggle family. They seem to really care about you and we get a free lunch out of it," Danielle crept up beside Lyra once Sandra left, nervous for her real reaction to the Malfoy ambush, but she softened her rigid spine when the pensive girl sighed and smirked up at her.
"I guess… but I'm still very suspicious. I'd much rather go and visit Harry tomorrow," Lyra tried to persuade her, raising her dark brows as she playfully nudged her carer in the ribs, "are you sure we can't skip their posh lunch and go on a road trip to Surrey instead?"
"It's just one day, Lyra, I'm sure Harry will be fine without you for one more day," muttered Danielle, her lips twitching as she observed the girl knowingly but she shook the look away and held the front door open, gesturing for her to head back inside, "now let's go and pick out your outfit for tomorrow. I told you those dresses would come in handy!"