Lyra misheard her.
She must've.
"No."
"Y-Yes."
"No? What do you mean Remus bit Ron and Snape?"
"No, Remus bit Ron," Hermione said shakily, her creased expression suggesting she still had trouble believing it too, "Snape saved Ron from dying from the bite, it was a stroke of luck that he had powdered silver and dittany on him."
Forgetting about her restraints again, Lyra hissed at her sores when she tried to cradle her tender head and make sense of what Hermione was telling her. It didn't feel real, this was a nightmare, a curse. Fate was cruel, so inhuman and unjust.
Another cry came from the direction of the private ward and Hermione kicked her covers away and perched on the side of Lyra's bed, focusing more on the handcuffs and the tears rolling down her friend's cheeks that she couldn't wipe away than on Ron's agony.
"Pomfrey and Dumbledore are in there now with him, he hasn't fully transformed but he's… he's…" Hermione couldn't finish so she concentrated on cleaning Lyra's weeping wrists, ignoring her own sorry state.
"Why am I handcuffed?" Lyra croaked, shaking them again.
"I don't know, Lyra, I'm really sorry," admitted Hermione, hating every second. "But it has something to do with Snape and Fudge, I woke up just as they left and Professor Dumbledore didn't mention it before he went in to help Madam Pomfrey."
I'm fucked.
"Snape's trying to get me expelled. He's told them something," Lyra swallowed hard and groaned, eventually giving up her fight against the metal cuffs and shifting in her bed to give her friend more room, and Hermione nodded as though it pained her to do so.
"I have a terrible feeling that he knows about your connection to the Dementors. He's the one who brought us all back to the castle," she confessed, "and I also know that time has been tampered with, but I just don't know how yet."
"We tamper with it. I saw you and Harry in the forest," answered Lyra without hesitating. She still had so many questions. Where was everyone? Her father? Who knew the truth? "your future selves ran into me, Remus and Dad."
Despite her shock, Hermione looked impressed if not a bit concerned.
"You didn't see your future self, did you?"
"No, I assumed she was off bothering Snape while all of this was unravelling. That's where I was when you were at Hagrid's," she gritted her teeth, dreading her upcoming task. Did she have to bother Snape? What if she went back in time and just… disposed of him instead?
Lyra, no.
Bad, bad idea! You need him to save Ron.
It was a joke! I'm kidding!
Hermione's brows puckered and she leant against her, resting her head on Lyra's good shoulder with another sniffle or two. "Oh Ly, why do you torment him? I understand that Snape's just as horrible to you but you're putting yourself in danger whenever you go toe to toe with him now. It's not worth it. You can't get expelled, you just can't."
"I don't back down from bullies, remember? It's kinda worth it if I can take him out with me," answered Lyra with a bitter aftertone that made Hermione sigh and summon the weakest smile she could muster. Yet another one of Ron's piercing screams broke their silence and she sat up straight, trying to cover her horror with more fidgeting and tending to Lyra's cuts.
"He's a Death Eater," Lyra muttered under her breath, cautious of the echo that usually swelled in the empty wing whenever they spoke, "he's not just a teacher I don't like. He chose to attack me over protecting you guys from Sirius who, I'm now realising, he probably knew was innocent all along! He didn't blink an eye at the fact Peter's still alive. He should not be here, he needs to be fired."
Hermione looked gravely at Harry across from them. "You've got a point, but surely if that's true then Dumbledore knows he's one too. Why would he employ a known Death Eater? He saved Ron, Dumbledore and the Ministry won't forget that."
"Beats me, maybe he's a spy? A really shit, incompetent spy? He was trying to cosy up to Quirrell back in the day, birds of a feather and all, maybe he's convinced Dumbledore that he's spying for him now," she grumbled, growing more annoyed that she was so focused on her hatred rather than the debacle they were stuck in.
If Snape figured out she has a special connection to the Dementors then he's already told the headmaster, and potentially the minister too. Her dark magic use will be brought up again and she knew that would land her a fast-track pass to imminent expulsion. Not good.
But judging by the lack of Aurors in the wing with them, she guessed that Sirius was still here at Hogwarts. She just about made out the hands of a distant wall clock and struggled to sit still when she noticed it wasn't as late as she thought. They must've been asleep for an hour at most. The Dementors aren't allowed to Kiss him so he was still alive. Hopefully.
WE WILL NOT DEVOUR HIM…
WE OBEY YOU… WE WILL WAIT FOR YOU…
The Dementors were in the tallest turrets of the castle with him and Lyra doubled down on her instructions, letting their chill in with a sigh of icy relief. Hermione shivered and huddled closer to her.
Peter wasn't here, he was long gone. She felt it in her gut.
And Remus was still in his wolf form, out of his mind as he ran riot in the Forbidden Forest.
Lyra clutched at her chest and panicked, feeling the tumultuous avalanche of emotion suffocate her as she realised Remus was still in the dark about his crime. The damage it'll do to him, his reaction… Her heart was in pieces.
"The Aurors, they're hunting Remus down," she choked, failing to calm down, "they're gonna—! Hermione, they're gonna arrest him! They might kill him?! He had no control over his attack, he didn't mean to bite Ron!"
"Breathe," Hermione rubbed her friend's back but she was just as upset with the realisation as her, more tears dribbling from her chin, "don't think about that. We're going to help him, they're not going to kill Remus. Our night isn't over yet."
Neither of them believed that but it helped their nerves. Lyra slowed her shudders and endured each wave of pessimism that was slapping her silly. The faces of her freckled cousins tried to peek through the dark storm of thoughts and she recoiled, dreading the consequences they were going to face once the sun rose in a few hours time.
Molly was going to rip Remus to shreds. The Weasleys might blame them for putting Ron in danger and forbid them from being friends…
Lyra noticed Harry stirring in the corner of her eye and patted Hermione's arm, urging her to sit up from her deflated slouch. "He's awake!"
Hermione squeaked and rushed over to his bed side, scared of Harry's reaction as he sat bolt up and stared wide-eyed at them both as though waking from a hellish nightmare. He was the palest he'd ever been, Lyra began to worry that he'd lost a substantial amount of blood but her heart broke all over again when he caught her eye and replaced his glasses to hide his own tears.
"Ron got bit," he blurted out, and Lyra nodded, not quite sure how to act.
"Hermione told me," she winced, "are you hurt? Did you see it happen?"
They both shook their heads and shared glances of guilt. Lyra's insides twisted together in a fierce knot, anxious for their retelling of the night. She'd never forgive herself for not helping, not that she would've known what to do. Snape was never going to let them forget this either, especially after they walked out of his werewolf lesson.
"After Pettigrew tackled you out of the window, the bedroom floor collapsed," he explained as he threw his covers aside and hugged Hermione who had turned away to hide another waterfall cascading down her damp cheeks, "we got knocked out for a moment, and when we woke up all we could hear was Ron screaming upstairs and Sirius and Remus were chasing each other throughout the place. Sirius was trying to lure Remus away from all of us so we could help Ron and—,"
Suddenly Harry froze when he realised how strangely subdued Lyra was acting. She hadn't tackled him in a hug yet, which was very unlike her, but he dropped his jaw and his arms fell limply to his side when he noticed the flash of silver around her wrists. Her face burned in her humiliation so she tried to smile the pain away, half-heartedly waving her rattling handcuffs as though showing them off.
"To be fair, I look great in silver, I can't help that," she teased, and Hermione finally ended her crying for good with a watery laugh as they joined Lyra's side. Harry reached out, silently asking to see them, and Lyra revered his gentle touch when he tried to slide them off her.
"They're enchanted, I've already tried," said Hermione.
"Snape…?" was all he managed to spit out as he stewed in his growing bubble of anger, jaw clenched and pout sour. He glared at the cuffs as though he was the one tied to the bed. "Ly, do you remember what happened?"
"Do you?" Lyra frowned, now doubting her own memory, "I was with your future self for most of it, I'd be very impressed if you somehow remembered everything you've not done yet."
Harry's anger melted into disbelief and he scoffed, finally cracking with a weak laugh. "Come again?"
"What's the last thing you remember?" Hermione cut across them and looked to Lyra, reverting into her curt detective mode.
"Peter, Dementors, and a whole lot of deserved torture," she said bluntly, playing with the patronising lock dangling from her wrist. "And then something hot blasted me in the face and I passed out."
"That was Snape," Harry told her in a murderously calm tone, one she certainly didn't expect but absolutely needed to hear. She loved seeing him in a rage, it was the version of Harry her and Hermione needed tonight. "After he sealed Ron's bite he ran off and I followed him down to that lake where you ended up. He saw you standing amongst all of the Dementors and…" he huffed and spat it out as though it turned rancid in his mouth, "and he attacked you. I tried to distract him but I couldn't produce a patronus, I was powerless again. I don't remember anything after that."
"I passed out with Ron at the shack, I vaguely remember Snape conjuring stretchers at one point when I came to but that's all," Hermione concluded, distressed by how useless she had been. "Snape was the only one awake so he controlled the narrative, we need to find out what he's told Fudge and the Aurors."
Shit.
We've got to come up with a good excuse.
Oh sure, because everyone is going to believe me over Snape!
New voices echoed around the hospital wing's atrium before Lyra could shush the voices in her frantically brainstorming the perfect alibi. Hermione and Harry instinctively jumped up in front of Lyra and shielded her from the new arrivals, ready to defend her with their lives. Her chest ached and she willed herself not to dwell on the inevitable.
She was about to be expelled.
This was her final night at Hogwarts and she didn't even know until it was nearly over. The end of her magical journey was near but she wasn't about to bow down in defeat. She was going to go out cursing and fighting, and preferably taking Snape out with her.
But her head shot up when she recognised the newcomers and she clung onto the burst of fluttery hope in her gut, urging her friends to move.
"Merlin's beard!"
"You promised you were going to stay in the Tower! YOU PROMISED!"
Lyra happily welcomed Professor McGonagall's rage alongside her cousin's bewilderment; she didn't have much of a choice as they came as a pair. At least she wasn't a Weasley. The two ladies rushed over to them, their faces equally as shiny with trepidation and perspiration, and Lyra gladly accepted Tonks' smothering hug and peck on the top of her head.
"Thank Merlin you're all ok," Tonks said first, beating her ex-professor to the punch to fuss over them. She noticed Lyra's shackles and her hair simmered into a dangerous dark orange, her eyes physically darkened and she took her wand out without a second thought.
"Nymphadora!" gasped McGonagall as she cast the appropriate unlocking jinx, but she never moved to lock Lyra up again.
"Thank you," Lyra croaked and massaged her wrists, feeling woozy from her newfound freedom but ultimately relieved that her cousin had no cause to apprehend her. The Aurors didn't know. "Please tell me you have good news."
"Good news? You survived by the skin of your teeth, that's the good news," reprimanded McGonagall, rounding on all three of her students with her hands in her hips. Stray hairs flew from her unusually casual plait and her bloodshot eyes weren't hidden by her glasses, it unnerved Lyra to see her this dishevelled. "you're not the one who will have to explain to Molly and Arthur that their son has been bitten by a werewolf!"
Hermione began to cry again, she covered her face and wailed. "We're sorry, P-Professor! We're so, so sorry!"
"My dear, it is not your fault," McGonagall lowered her temper a fraction to console her upset students and she searched the nearby trays for bottles of calming draught, "none of you were responsible for the incident, Professor Snape explained everything and—,"
"Don't believe him, he's lying," Lyra interjected out of pure fear of the unknown she was about to face.
"He was unconscious for most of it, he doesn't know what he's talking about," Harry backed her up, much to McGonagall's chagrin who sighed in exasperation at their immediate backchat.
"I'm taking their side on this one, Minerva, they're usually right on the money with these kinds of things. We have to hear them out," Tonks declared her stance, hooking her thumbs in her belt loops as she bounced on her heels. She was keen to ask them questions and her trusting attitude perked the three Gryffindors up. "Severus didn't tell us the full truth, I could tell he was lying back there."
"What did he tell you?" Harry asked her in a rush.
"Is Dad here? Have you seen him? Is he ok?" Lyra added, exchanging fervid worry with her friends who were chewing on fingernails and lip corners.
"Your father is currently being held in the old Divination office at the top of the North Tower," Tonks revealed, ignoring McGonagall's disproving tuts with an eye roll, and when Tonks caught Lyra's eye she couldn't help but add. "Yes, I've spoken to him only briefly, and yes, he is ok."
Lyra was dying to know what they spoke about, she didn't look particularly dissuaded by the fact she'd met Sirius and the glimmer in her eye was very telling. She wanted to speak to her in private too.
"Do any of you remember whether Mr Black or Professor Lupin used an Unforgivable Curse on yourselves?" McGonagall interrupted, suspicious of the unspoken conversation taking place between Lyra and Tonks, and all three of them shook their heads.
"We weren't hoodwinked, Professor," Hermione insisted. "They didn't use any illegal curses on us."
"Talk to Professor Dumbledore, he can back us up on this. Ron's rat was actually Peter Pettigrew, he's the one who caused all this trouble. He framed Sirius and we've been trying to catch him for weeks now," Harry rambled on, unknowingly opening a can of worms that McGonagall was not prepared for. "Ask Dumbledore, please, he'll tell you all about our secret Order of the Phoenix mission—,"
At the mention of Albus' organisation something obscenely dark casted a shadow over Professor McGonagall's face and she stormed over to the private ward and disappeared behind the door without saying anything. Although she was grateful for her head of house's quick departure, Lyra wished she gave them a clue as to what was running through her mind.
"She's just worried about you all, don't worry," Tonks assured the trio, comforting them the best she could.
"What's going on? What do you know?" Lyra didn't hesitate.
"I know that your Dad is totally not how I imagined at all," Tonks heaved, pulling Harry and Hermione closer to Lyra's bed so they wouldn't be overheard. "He's more lucid than Bellatrix and Rodolphus, that's for sure. He's… well, he is certainly your father."
"He's innocent," Lyra pleaded, ready to defend him, but thankfully she didn't need to.
"Yeah I figured that out when Dumbledore requested a moment alone with him and he came out looking like he'd discovered the cure for lycanthropy," she whistled, but she muttered her apologies when Hermione shot her an obscene look. "I knew it was too soon the second it came out of my mouth, sorry."
"Do you know why Lyra was handcuffed?" Harry asked.
Tonks avoided their gaze for a moment, the neon highlights in her pixie cut fading fast, but she exhaled out the negative energy and straightened out, immediately appearing older than her twenty years. Andromeda's influence poured out as she wrinkled her nose and smoothed her full pastel hair out of her way, caring yet assertive.
"Look, I don't have a lot of time. I'm supposed to be out with the rest of my team searching for Remus — yes, we'll discuss him later, Freckles, don't interrupt me," Tonks held a hand up when Lyra opened her mouth to defend her godfather, "The short version is Sirius is being given The Kiss any minute now, Remus has been fired and we're waiting for the Tamers to arrive to help capture him, and Snape has accused Lyra of practicing the Dart Arts, a.k.a rallying the Dementors, whatever that means."
"What about Peter?" spat Hermione.
Tonks inhaled sharply and cupped her forehead, dismayed. "I was hoping that part wasn't true," she sighed.
"What?" Lyra pressed.
"We can't find Pettigrew anywhere and Snape has denied seeing him this evening. No one believes Sirius, they think he's lost his mind," she explained to them softly, despising being the bearer of bad news. "Snape has called for Lyra's expulsion but please don't panic. Obviously this is one massive misunderstanding and we are all here to sort it out. It's apparent to all parties involved that Snape is overreacting, neither Dumbledore nor Fudge have taken his request seriously because they know he doesn't like you. They handcuffed you to shut Snape up."
"So he doesn't have actual cause to have me expelled?" Lyra clarified, "are you absolutely sure he didn't mention any other reason? Just that I rallied the Dementors using dark magic?"
"He can't prove that you did something down there, you didn't use your wand so there's no trace," Hermione told Lyra, remaining positive despite her uneasy grimace, "he doesn't have evidence."
"He couldn't have seen you physically do anything, the Dementors were blocking you from our perspective on the bank," Harry agreed, determined and surprisingly soft, and Lyra nodded along, forever grateful that her friends were always on her side. Ok, good. That's good!
But the retraction of Tonks' hand on her arm caused another round of heart palpitations and Lyra swore. She reached out to her but Tonks backed away, deflecting her attempt to divert the subject.
Doubt. Her blanched face was dripping in it.
Lyra panicked. "Wait, Dora, it's not like that—,"
"Was Snape telling the truth? Yes or no?" Tonks demanded, looking at her through shattered lenses that had her bottom lip wobbling, "Lyra, honey, no?!"
"No, I have not been messing with the Dark Arts," Lyra told her in a calm, controlled tone. She couldn't lose her cousin to this damaging narrative. "Please, whatever Snape told you he saw, he's lying. He wants me gone, he's always hated me, he'll say anything to get me kicked out."
"You promise?" Tonks choked, choosing to believe her over her clenched gut feeling. She could've brought him up but she didn't, not yet.
"I swear on my life it wasn't dark magic," Lyra swore.
"So you did do something?!" gasped Tonks, outraged. "What—?"
"No, listen to me, it's not what you think it is and one day I'll tell you all about it," Lyra held out her hand, praying that she'd take it, "but right now I need you on my side no matter what happened down at the lake. I can't tell you right now but I will soon, I swear it. Do you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you," replied Tonks but she couldn't let it go, "but Dementors… You're fucking with the Dementors?! Not a good look, cuz! What the fuck are you playing at?!"
Lyra groaned. "I'm not fucking with them, I'm just not affected by them, it's really not a big deal— look, it's a long story and we don't have much time—!"
In a cosmic display of mockery, Lyra's words rang true and she scrambled to lay back down in her bed as a small gaggle of highly-emotional, power-drunk wizards came streaming into the main wing to deliver their good news. Although she gracefully dropped her wand in the process, Tonks charmed the handcuffs to snap back around Lyra's wrists and she headed straight for the exit. Lyra began to panic that Tonks was abandoning her by choice but judging by the extremely tall, stern-looking yet boldly dressed gentleman waving at her from the entrance she had more problems waiting for her outside of the infirmary.
Lyra didn't know where to look, without her cousin or her other professors here to preside over them, the Ministry and their lying Potions Master reigned over them. Shame melted her cheeks as Madam Bones approached her first, her thick brow hardened and her square jaw twitching as she inspected them for surface wounds. She tutted at the state of Lyra's deep-coloured bruises, Hermione's sprained arm, and Harry's face cuts, unimpressed.
"Are you feeling well? Should we call for the matron?" She asked loudly but with only kind intentions.
"It's a miracle that you have recovered so quickly, please sit," Lyra's nerves heightened as Cornelius Fudge and his posse of ministry wizards Lyra had never seen before cornered Harry, separating him from the girls, "it's best that you stay in your beds, after the night you've had we mustn't take any chances. From what we've heard you were quite confunded when Professor Snape found you and we don't want you fainting on us again."
It was like he'd blasted her all over again, the heat from Snape's putrid scowl scorched Lyra's bruised cheek but she never flinched from the heat. Like a basilisk he was begging for her to meet his fatal eye contact, he wanted her to scream at him, to prove his point that she was dangerous in front of everyone. So naturally, Lyra pretended he didn't exist.
Breathe…
"Sirius never cursed us, sir, we're not confused," Hermione tried the polite route first, "we are of sound mind, you have to believe us when we tell you that Peter Pettigrew—,"
"Enough," droned Snape and Lyra's blood roared in her ears. He was bored of the subject, tired of them trying to save the life of the innocent man he loathed. "First he shifts his blame onto a man who has been dead for twelve years, and now he's convinced the children to fight on his behalf. Sickening. It's hard to believe Black would stoop so low, we mustn't appease this ludicrous claim, Minister."
"No, that's a lie! Sir, please, we are telling the truth," argued Harry, accepting Fudge's fatherly arm pats with pleading eyes as he pouted up at him, "isn't there a spell you can do to prove we're not lying? Can't you do something to see if we've been cursed?"
"Black is a dangerous individual, men like him know untraceable curses. He was found with his wand on him so who knows what damage he has inflicted upon them that we cannot see," Snape countered, nails digging deep into his crossed arms as he dared to approach their beds with an awkward limp.
Wishing that his injured ankle would spontaneously snap, Lyra clamped her lips together and kept her gaze on Madam Bones who was watching the scene unfold in her own calculating silence. Why hadn't Dumbledore appeared yet? Does Amelia or any members of her team who were watching them suspect Snape was lying through his teeth? If Tonks suspected that Sirius was telling the truth then who else was on their side? Were they also in this room, listening to them confirm his story while making up their own minds?
"Then surely the Prior-Use Spell will still suffice? Even if the curse is untraceable on us, that spell will pick up all of the wand's previous casts. You have Sirius' wand, you said so yourself," Hermione piped up, causing Snape to spin on his heel and glower at her instead.
Get him, Hermione! It took everything in Lyra not to laugh. If Snape got rid of her then he'd still have to contend with her friends.
"Let's not work the children up, Severus," Fudge's chuckle was forced but he didn't let their arguments ruin the proud smile slick on his sweaty face. He removed his bowler hat and fidgeted with its brim. "They've been through enough this evening, let's focus on the good news, eh? And maybe you can make yourself useful by sourcing some more sleeping draught?"
Lyra caught the Minister for Magic's eye and was determined to keep his gaze despite the fear pooling in her stomach. She had to be cooperative, he was watching her as though she was due to explode at any moment and she tried not to rattle her chains as a further reminder of Snape's accusations against her. He wasn't giving much away in his expression and that only made her feel worse. She had to stay quiet and play nicely.
But sadly that just wasn't who she was.
"Minister," She began succinctly, in a voice that was void of any telling emotions, "Forgive me for speaking out of turn but I just wanted to ask whether you've informed the press about what's happened yet?"
"No, Miss Black, news of the werewolf incident and the recapture of your father hasn't breached the walls of Hogwarts yet though I'll be sure to alert them soon," he answered her with a polite nod though she could tell he didn't think she was worthy of such gracious niceties as he gestured at Snape. "Severus, the draught?"
Snape ignored him and chose to stay in case the children decided to take advantage of his disappearance.
"No one finds out about this until we can secure the premises and assure the public that Mr Lupin has been dealt with proficiently," Madam Bones continued, hijacking the conversation for time's sake. She was constantly watching the private ward doors, waiting for her friend's interruption, "The head of our Aurors Office is due to return to Hogwarts with an expert team of Tamers any moment now, I can assure you three that justice will be served tonight before the Prophet is notified."
"But it wasn't Remus' fault, at least grant him a fair trial instead of arresting him straight away," Hermione raised her voice, side-eyeing Lyra who was concentrating on keeping her cool, "if the Weasleys call for his arrest, that is. You don't arrest other werewolves for attacking people, why are you singling this incident out?"
"Hold your tongue, Granger," warned Snape, throwing daggers her way. "Who's to say that the Weasleys haven't already called for his arrest?"
"You haven't even told Molly and Arthur yet, coward. I know that for a fact because they're not in here," Lyra snapped, lifting the lid of her emotions loose for a split second.
Snape celebrated his chance to jump down her throat as she finally acknowledged him by flicking his wand at her chains, tightening them as a reminder that he was in control. Still, she refused to look at him and pretended the pressure of her handcuffs weren't verging on unbearable. Her fingers felt like they were going to pop off.
"If I were you, Black, I wouldn't say another word," he snarled, "we haven't even touched on you yet."
"She didn't do anything!" Harry yelled, pushing back against Fudge's warding arm as he tried to get out of bed again.
"Watch your tone, Professor, don't work them up again," Madam Bones warned the Potions Master. She nodded to her members of staff and raised a hand, her lips thinning into a false smile, "why don't you follow Mr Matchen and Mr Lawes out to greet Mr Scrimgeour and the Tamers? Cornelius and I can handle this from here."
Lyra gladly gave Snape full eye contact as he was escorted from the room by two burly, bald-headed wizards that could've blended in perfectly with the rough ends of London. If her hands weren't cuffed then she most definitely would have waved him off to really rub salt into his cuts—
Snape locked onto her gaze and forced his way into her mind as though it were his own, blindsiding her without a care for ethics. He played his trump card and outed himself as a highly-skilled Legilimens. Brutal tendrils punched through her mental defences, she had no choice but to let him in.
YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS, BLACK! DUMBLEDORE KNOWS—!
But only for a second, Tom taught her better than that.
Nothing, no thoughts, an abyss that devoured everything in its path. Snape's mental curse echoed around the endless void of her mind, leaving him to scrape the bottom of the empty barrel that should have held her most incriminating memories. She gave him nothing and his failure gave way to his doubt, she pressed the switch and catapulted him out of her head when his spell flickered like a dud bulb. He didn't expect her to react so fast and he was already gone by the time he recovered.
Nicely handled.
You need to be on your guard from now on. Shield your mind, especially around that man.
Pretending that Snape hadn't just mentally sucker-punched her, Lyra hid her wheezes and tried to relieve her aching wrists with another awkward shuffle. Her fingers were numb and turning a faint shade of purple. Madam Bones noticed her discomfort and revealed her wand from her overcoat pocket, intending to end her misery with a sneaky unlocking jinx, but she swiftly pocketed it again as the private ward doors creaked open.
Ron had stopped crying and the room waited with bated breath as Professor Dumbledore stepped out to join them. Lyra felt every drop of calming potion in her stomach as it rolled over and over on itself, churning her sloshing nerves into festering sludgy shame. As much as she was relieved he'd finally come to save them, she couldn't help but wonder whether Snape had a genuine shot at kicking her out of Hogwarts.
"How is he?" squeaked Hermione, and Albus smiled with the kind of sadness she'd seen at Coles time and time again. It accompanied life-changing news, like he was setting the tone for a terrible new chapter in all of their lives. His sadness deserved but wholeheartedly not wanted by the three Gryffindors.
"Mr Weasley is responding well to his treatment and is resting. Madam Pomfrey has sedated him with enough medicine to see him through till sunrise," he explained, his usually strong voice was strained by his melancholy. He cast his gaze over them all, but Lyra knew it was just for show.
Albus clasped his hands behind his back and she noticed the corner of what looked like a piece of black folded card peeking through his fingers. Sensing her attentiveness, he shifted his hand to show her and her alone what he was holding.
An origami Thestral.
The headmaster met her eye last and she trembled, unable to hide her terror. His ebb of power politely knocked on her defensive walls and so she had no choice but to let him in.
Professor, I can explain—,
I will only say this once, Miss Black. Swear to me that you will tell me why the Dementors listen to you, and I will swear to help your future self. No more secrets.
Professor Dumbledore's internal voice was almost unrecognisable, at first she wondered whether she'd accidentally let one of Bones' grumpy officers into her head instead, but the slight narrowing of his sapphire eyes confirmed that she was talking to him and him alone.
He was wary of her, he was masking his true feelings in front of them all. Albus was furious.
For the second time in her life, Lyra was afraid of the headmaster. She had a sinking feeling he didn't like her anymore.
Shit.
You have to agree to what he says, you cannot — I repeat, cannot — be expelled.
Lyra inclined her head an inch and accepted his terms without giving the game away, she pretended to roll her tender neck and prayed to the forces that oversaw the universe to give her a chance to succeed with this mammoth task as the room absorbed the latest update.
"Professor, we need to talk in private," said Madam Bones.
Fudge stammered to inject. "Not yet, Amelia, what about the girl—,"
"The concerns Professor Snape has expressed this evening have been taken into consideration, but I must implore you to reassess your priorities and postpone your decision on terminating Miss Black's school career until tomorrow. Right now our attention should be on her father and the well-being of my students," Albus relayed as though he'd gone through this a million times before. Lyra looked nowhere else except at him as her chest threatened to tear open again.
He believed Snape. He was considering expelling her.
"Sir—," Harry tried his hardest to be heard but Professor Dumbledore raised an arm without looking his way, gently silencing him.
"Cornelius, Amelia, if you would allow me a moment to talk to Mr Potter, Miss Granger, and Miss Black alone, I shall join you in the North Tower afterwards," he stated rather than asked, but Madam Bones granted him his wish regardless. Fudge looked positively disgruntled at being told what to do, especially by someone lower ranked than him, but he nodded pithily and instructed his staff to follow him out.
"Take all the time you need," said Amelia, surveying the main wing one last time before she left, and the door's lock clicked as it swung shut. Lyra had the strangest feeling that they were still being watched but she shook it off and waited for Dumbledore's ambush to begin. I'm so screwed, ha!
But the clink of her shackles unlocking and falling from her hands surprised her and she gasped, flexing her fingers to gain back feeling. Her friends perked up at the headmaster's gesture and smiled at her, but Lyra couldn't return it.
"Professor, we caught Pettigrew," Harry began to spiral as he leapt out of bed for good, "he admitted to betraying my parents, he stopped Remus from taking his potion and he—,"
"Sirius has already told me what occurred down at the Shrieking Shack and down by the lake, Harry, do not worry," Albus interrupted, sounding more like his elegant self again as he leant against the end of Harry's cot, "time is of the essence and I do not want to prolong the inevitable any longer than necessary. I believe you already know what you have to do?"
"Yes sir," Lyra answered on their behalf as she climbed out of her bed to test her sprained ankle. The swollen muscles ached in protest but she strapped it into submission by retying her trainer laces. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop Peter from escaping, we failed."
Albus frowned at her response and part of his icy front melted. "That's not your fault, Lyra, you did the best you could—,"
"I did everything I could and I'm being punished for it," She unintentionally snapped but she didn't retract, her big mouth was her last line of defence. She might as well say it. "Sorry, I know we should be rushing to go back in time but I can't let you walk out of here thinking that I'm the bad guy here. Please don't listen to Snape, he's got it all wrong."
Professor Dumbledore welcomed her backchat with open arms as he stood straight and faced her, his silvery hair sparkling in the smooth lines of moonlight running through the hospital wing as he approached her bed. Inviting her to tell him all of her secrets with a judgemental look only an elderly relative could get away with.
"I am not your enemy," he insisted. "Let me help you. Tell me why Professor Snape believes that the Dementors are under your control. Tell me why this is the third member of my staff who has accused you of practicing the Dark Arts. There comes a point where I must start taking these dangerous accusations seriously, Miss Black."
I have to say it.
No!
Don't!
"It's not dark magic," Lyra's skin crawled as she realised she wasn't the only one suffering with deja vu. Did Dumbledore ever speak to Tom like this? "It's out of my control. The Dementors like me, they don't affect me the same way they do everyone else and I don't know why. All I did down at that lake was ask for their help in stopping Peter from escaping. That's it."
Dumbledore's eyes grew smaller as he absorbed this version of the truth. "They like you? Can you… hear them?"
Lie.
No. What's the point anymore? We're cursed, you can't help me.
…She's got a point.
"In a sense, yeah," she admitted, her heart picking up speed the longer she dragged her confession out. She was wasting time, her future self needed her to hurry. "And before you ask, no, Tom didn't teach me how to do this. This is a one hundred percent Black original."
"I see," Professor Dumbledore nodded, his eyes swimming with azure fog as he pondered the very little yet astonishingly juicy tidbit she dropped on him. Lyra could tell he was debating starting his investigation into her darkness now but thankfully he didn't give in to that thought just yet. "I'm afraid I have a multitude of questions but I believe they will have to wait until tomorrow. Are you prepared to admit this in front of Cornelius?"
Lyra almost had a heart attack. Hell no! "Sir, please, do you think presenting the Ministry with someone who has the Dementors at their every beck and call will end well? Let alone the daughter of the innocent man they've wrongfully convicted and are about to execute just to cover their backs? I'd be fucked, are you kidding me? You can't tell anyone about this, and if that means they'll throw a hissy fit and expel me out of spite then so be it."
Although her friends hated her answer and they jumped in to insist that Lyra shouldn't be expelled, Professor Dumbledore's whiskery brows rose as though in admiration. The sparkle was back in his gaze and Lyra cringed, embarrassed that she thought the worst of him. Maybe he did like her, he was hard to read.
"The Ministry is easy to persuade, I am not worried about the Minister or Amelia, dear," he told her in a faint jest, "it is our Potions Master that I will have difficulty convincing to drop their accusations."
Lyra dropped her head, feeling her exhaustion creep in. Ugh, he's so right.
"Then fire him," Harry answered simply, shrugging.
Albus stiffened, not quite meeting Harry's challenging eye. "I'm afraid that is not up for discussion."
"Why? Because he's a Death Eater?" wondered Harry, hoping to spark up another argument, but Hermione plucked up the courage to snap at them and remind them of the daunting task that still lay ahead of them. She scratched with her scarred palm and unravelled the Time-Turner, anxious to get moving.
"As always, Miss Granger is right. I will lock you in as I leave, but that does not mean you shouldn't use any means necessary to get yourselves in and out of this room," said Dumbledore, and a tense hush came over the main wing. The trio shuffled closer, like soldiers they listened to their commander and began to suss out their main mission.
"The time is three minutes to two o'clock. Sirius is being held in the office in the North Tower annex, second window from the left. I assume you are well-versed on the rules of time travel," Hermione nodded for them, "I would also like to caution you against focusing on Peter too much. Your safety and Sirius' situation matters more than his capture."
"But let's say, for example, if the Dementors were able to—," Lyra began but Albus swiftly shook his head.
"The Dementors need to stay under the Ministry's control, I cannot have you interfering with their strict orders," he explained though the twinkle in his eye said otherwise. Again, mixed messages, she couldn't work him out.
"What about Remus? And Ron?" asked Harry, and Albus heaved a sigh they related to most. Fatigued and deeply felt grief.
"Unfortunately there are certain things in this universe that we will never understand, like time and fate," he murmured, and Lyra ignored her plummeting stomach, "we as humans can only do so much, you cannot put it upon yourself to fix every little mistake life throws at you. Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall and myself are the only ones in the room with Ron and I can confirm he has been infected with lycanthropy, I'm afraid that thread has already been woven."
Harry swallowed the bitter pill of truth much more easily than the girls and became the strength and motion in their group. Lyra, who knew time and fate personally, disregarded his quote and wondered whether they could actually somehow save Ron and Remus, but it was Hermione who strongly disagreed. She kept her thoughts to herself as their headmaster bid them good luck and ambled off to the North Tower to discover their fates.
"We can save Ron," she said once they were truly alone, growing a few inches in determination as she drew them into the Time-Turner's chained limit, "we can stop Remus from biting him thus saving them both. We can do it, I'm telling you."
"I don't know if we should," Harry opposed though it wounded him to do so, "that's a really dangerous idea, Hermione, you know Ron would be so upset if we risked our lives to save him. I would be if I were him."
"He's worth the risk," she sprung back and shot daggers his way. "Don't act like you wouldn't do the same if—,"
"If we're going to argue about this then let's at least go back in time first," Lyra interjected and physically stepped between them. She motioned her time sensitive friend to spin the hourglass and instructed them to breathe. There was a lot of pressure on their shoulders and emotions were running high, she got where they were coming from but now was not the time.
Time was hesitant to let Death into its confines, she sensed them prod and prick her with their sharp fingers as everything around them disappeared in a gold-speckled blur. But Lyra held her ground and let them investigate her, showing them she meant no harm.
Bright sunlight beamed through the hospital windows, the night was far ahead of them. The infirmary was practically unchanged except for their made beds and the open private ward doors. Madam Pomfrey was in her office, her soft hums floated from under the door and the trio soundlessly got to grips with the new timeline.
They crept out of the infirmary and snuck into the first empty room they came across on the first floor, all three of them nervous and jumpy at even the smallest of shadows in the corners of their eyes.
"I still want to try and save Ron," Hermione started again having spent the last minute mentally coming up with a strong defence, but Lyra shot Harry a look telling him not to snap back and quickly agreed to her plan.
"Sure, fine, if the circumstances are right, we'll try and save Ron," she wagered, and she added, "but don't hurt yourself in the process. I dunno what Time or Fate have told you but you need to remember that you're still only human."
"And that makes all the difference. We are not regular people and this is not a common situation. We have to try," Hermione assured her, relieved they were at least hearing her out. She had to try, she had the power to make a difference. "I sent us back seven and half hours, if I remember correctly we will be leaving the fifth floor to try and find the twins and Ginny soon. What should we do first?"
"Let's head out to the forest, I saw Harry in there and that's where the twins and Ginny were," Lyra relayed her thoughts first, and the pair were keen to follow her lead.
The second they stepped foot out of the empty classroom, however, they heard the echoes of familiar voices across the courtyard and dashed back inside. Their past selves were already heading outside.
"I really didn't want to drag him into this but whatever," Lyra panted, crossing her fingers as her friends looked to her for help, "Kreacher!"
Pop!
"Kreacher has missed Lyra," Kreacher croaked. Her house elf was cheery this evening, he bounced on his heels as he greeted them all with a semi-toothless smile that vanished as quickly as it appeared. Lyra rushed to assure him they were fine when he noticed their injuries and torn clothing, he grunted and ducked into a protective stance in front of her.
"Mistress is hurt!"
"I'll explain later," she brushed him off and instructed them to grab ahold of his shaky arms, "please can you take us to the Forbidden Forest? Like, five minutes ago?"
Pop!
The freshness of the forest was a blessing as the trio arrived at the sunny forest's edge. Kreacher didn't want to transport them too deep into its leafy claws out of fear of accidentally dropping them into Sirius' lap and he grumbled after them as they ran deeper for cover.
"What is Mistress up to?"
"I swear I'll tell you everything later bud, can you go and wait on standby? I may need you later," she smiled up at him from behind a fallen tree trunk, batting her eyelashes so his ears would droop in obedience. "I'm being safe, we all are."
"I promise to look out for her," Harry promised from behind his chosen shrub when Kreacher looked as though he was going to throw a tantrum, "you're not leaving her in any danger, Kreacher."
The house elf gave Harry a reluctant nod and spun on his heel. Pop!
"How do you reckon he's going to take the news?" Hermione asked Lyra once Kreacher teleported back to London to await further instruction, and Lyra couldn't help but cackle. She leant back against the tree to admire the splatters of blue sky through the canopy and wondered whether she wanted this day to end or not.
"Don't suppose either of you want to tell him instead?"
"Nope," Harry refused.
"No thanks!" Hermione rejected, and Lyra shrugged that complication off until later.
"Uh oh, I think I can see Snape," Harry gulped and pointed toward the black dot on the horizon, following the paths that would take him to the greenhouses. Lyra doubted his poor eyesight at first, there was no way he could tell the speck in the distance was their Potions Master, but then she noticed the billowing robes in the wind and hunched walking style. Harry was correct.
He was heading toward the spot where she and Remus tracked down Sirius and her gut hardened in preparation. It was time.
"I guess that's my cue to leave. Remember to tell me you're from the future," Lyra climbed to her feet and groaned, stretching her muscles and cracking her neck to ease some of her anxiety. She really didn't want to go and her friends didn't look particularly inspired by this plan either but they knew it was the only way.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Harry tried to be helpful as she said her goodbyes, and she sighed into his bear hug.
"When you see me, convince me not to run, help me get through all of this without going insane. I won't succeed tonight without you by my side," she whispered, partly to herself as a wish, but her courage refilled its tank when Harry squeezed her extra tight as though answering her prayers.
"You've technically done all the damage you're going to do so don't be afraid," Hermione muttered into her ear as she drew away from their quick embrace, "we'll see each other very soon."
Lyra left the Forbidden Forest repeating her friends' encouragements over and over again as fuel for her fire. No wonder Snape was spitting flames of his own when he came across them in the Shrieking Shack with the amount of vitriol bubbling away inside of her. She wasn't going to hold back what she really thought of him.
Severus Snape prowled around the greenhouses and walled gardens as though searching for someone. Lyra hung back far enough to ensure he couldn't feel her stalking him and used the shadows to the best of her ability. She didn't want to engage with him unless she had to so she crouched low and followed him back inside the castle.
Judging by the descending sun in the sky and his fiddling with the potion vial hidden on his hip, he was searching for Remus. Snape searched the staff rooms, study rooms, and his third floor domain. Lyra nearly lost track of him when she took the wrong turn down a secret passage, but she found him exiting the library annex in no time at all, looking more irate than before. She felt no sympathy though, why couldn't he have found Remus this morning? Why did he take so long to make the damn potion?
A potion, she now realised, she would have to learn how to make just in case.
Hang on, Hermione might be right. We might save him.
I highly doubt that.
Sorry sweetheart.
Lyra blocked out the voices' pessimistic comments as they weren't helping the sense of impending doom that was creeping up on her. She couldn't quite gauge how much time had passed since she left Harry and Hermione. Has she run into Remus yet? Has she reunited with Sirius?
She only caught her bearings once Professor Snape decided to venture out into the grounds again and she spotted Hagrid's illuminated windows from a passing window. They were still in there, meaning she must've been in the forest with her father. It was safe for her to emerge into the open. Even as she crept along the dimly lit corridor parallel to her oblivious Potions Master she fought with her inescapable fate.
Was it worth it?
This man helped Peter escape — he chose to help him instead of us. Fuck yes it's worth it!
Teeth gritted and attitude on point, Lyra sauntered out of the shadows and made as much noise as she could going through the door that would lead them back toward the clocktower. She slammed the door shut and stomped off, silently counting down till his dramatic appearance.
"Oh, it's you," she yawned, hardly glancing over her shoulder at Snape looming in the doorway with her most patronising smile, "good evening Professor, have you come to ruin my night?"
"What are you doing out here? The Dementors are due to invade the grounds any minute now, Black," greeted Snape without drawing breath, his teeth shining in warning, "although I suppose that's why you're out here."
Lyra didn't flinch under his scowl though she wanted to. He hadn't seen her down by the lake yet, why the hell was he jumping to that conclusion already?
"What makes you say that, sir?" She asked, holding her own as he joined her side, but she set off again once he was in arms reach. "I'm just going for an evening walk."
"Your lies do not work on me, I know what you're doing. You've been conspiring with the Dementors, you're heading out to see them again," he accused with a sick satisfied smile, it looked so unnatural on his face. "I've got you now, Black, I've caught you!"
Lyra dodged his attempt to grip her against the wall and ducked down the flight of stairs, taking the lesser known path out into the clocktower courtyard. The sky was indigo and deep raspberry, the cold mists of the encroaching dark creatures swelled beneath the bridge and rolled down the hills in slow billowing clouds. The sight would have been quite serene if she didn't have Snape chasing her down now.
"Seriously you're obsessed, leave me alone! I know you hate me but you're actively trying to ruin my life with these stupid rumours. It's so childish, act your age, old man!" She complained, debating whether she should lead him out into the grounds yet. She sped-walked through the tower and circled the courtyard, playing with the man stalking her now. "Jesus, you really are a miserable old prick, go away."
"Mr Malfoy saw you plotting with them in the forest, I saw them follow you during that Quidditch match," baited Snape, playing more of his cards in an attempt to slow her down. "You risked the lives of everyone at this school just to win a meaningless sports match, you stupid arrogant child. Dumbledore should have kicked you out the second he learned the truth behind the attacks last year. You don't deserve to be here."
Lyra slowed her chase and processed his low blow with a mean smirk of her own. She subtly felt her pocket for her wand and her stomach twirled when she felt its knotted handle against her leg. Should she…?
"So you think you know what really happened last year? You know who Tom is?" She wondered, feigning insecurity, and he fell for it with another harrowing smile. A brisk breeze washed through the courtyard, reminding her of what lurked out in the darkness of the school grounds.
"I know that you've not told the headmaster everything, I know you've lied to him about the influence the Dark Lord has on your insignificant life," he said, repugnance curling his already snarling lip. "There was a reason the Dark Lord preyed on you, he saw himself in you and you know it. You're a danger to society, children like you should be exterminated before it's too late."
Lyra couldn't hide her expression this time and she scoffed, thrown by his blatant hatred. "Are you inferring that I'm going to grow up and become the next Lord Voldemort?"
"Dark wizards practice the Dark Arts, and you," Snape stormed forward and grasped the front of her t-shirt, successfully catching her off guard. He pinned her against the courtyard's empty window and Lyra held her breath, terrified, "are as dark as they come. I don't buy your act anymore and I will not stand by as you destroy everything I've worked hard to protect."
"Are you having a laugh? How dare you accuse me of siding with Voldemort when you're the real Death Eater here? The irony, the audacity!" She rasped, leaning as far away from his wretched face as she could physically manage, but she squeaked in pain and dropped to the floor when he struck her with a back-handed slap. His knuckles were tougher than iron against her already bruised cheek.
Snape sneered down at her and drew his wand. "I'm taking you to the headmaster right now, you disrespectful piece of—,"
At first the cries of her past self and company chasing after Scabbers sounded like they belonged to the creatures in the dark forest. Lyra crawled away from her murderous professor as he reacted to the sudden commotion way beyond the bridge, calculating how long she had to wait until it was safe to go.
Like a shark drawn to the scent of blood, Snape noticed her attempt to flee and yelled after her, affronted by the distraction. Lyra couldn't wait any longer, she dove out of the path of his bright red spell and made her escape out into the grounds.
"GET BACK HERE!"
"GET FUCKED, SIR!"
Lyra jumped down from the bridge and tore through the shrubbery, in search of the right path that would take her down to the Whomping Willow. She found the lighter-coloured dirt track and slowed her jog, glancing behind to ensure that Snape was still following her, and she grinned when he appeared from the bridge like a bat out of hell.
"BLACK!"
"COME AND GET ME!"
The distant thuds and squeals of their past selves dealing with the violent tree grew louder and she began to panic. She was too early, she needed a distraction, a different path–
The shimmer of the incandescent invisibility cloak was so palpable to Lyra that she wondered whether the cloak had been struck with an illuminating spell during the kerfuffle. It was lying abandoned in the grass to her right, perfectly out of the way of the Whomping Willow, so she took a sharp turn and barrelled toward it.
The cloak was happy to see her, the material nipped at her fingertips as she scooped it up and shook away the loose blades. Lyra attempted to fold it into a square small enough to shove into her combat trouser pockets but time was actively against her now.
A lucent purple jet shot out of the darkness and wrapped around her legs like a neon bolas, ensnaring her like the wild animal her teacher imagined her to be. Lyra tried not to panic as she drew her wand but the galloping footsteps of her professor running toward her wasn't helping her nerves. What was the Anti-Trip incantation again? Would the Unlocking Charm work?
Luckily Lyra worked well under pressure and blasted the first spell she thought of at Snape who appeared above her, out of breath and slimy with sweat.
"Ebublio!"
In a shower of soapy suds, Lyra conjured a large bubble twice the size of her professor and caged him with a delicate pop. The fragile pink and blue sheen of the bubble made him far less threatening and Lyra breathed a quick sigh of relief as he began to float away like dandelion seeds in the wind. She could tell he was screaming something obscene at her as he tried to burst the bubble but she couldn't hear him.
Lyra tapped her wand against the enchanted bolas and severed it in two. She brushed herself down, collected Harry's cloak and set off toward the willow tree, waving to Snape as she went. "Farewell sir!"
She didn't stick around to watch his escape, he'd be after her blood again in a minute so she continued onwards to the angry tree who was looking to pick another fight with whatever man or beast that came within reach of its branches. It swayed miserably in the cold winds coming off the lake and she conjured the same spell Remus used against it. The tree shivered as it pried open its secret passageway and she dipped inside. Would Snape know where to go?
Lyra left the entrance wide open and lightly jogged down the dank passageway, cautious of the gap she needed to leave between her and her future self. She kept in tempo with her pounding heart and tried to keep her thoughts in check. She hadn't the foggiest idea whether she was in sync with her past, she figured since she hadn't run into anyone yet she was in the clear.
I can't let Peter escape this time.
Girl, focus. Don't bite off more than you can chew.
Fuck that rat, we'll hunt him down at another time.
Man, I hope so.
She slowed her pace once she heard motion up ahead, her and Harry had reached the shack at last. Which meant she was somewhere beneath the surrounding forest, was there another way out of here? There must've been, or if not she had to create one. Lyra shifted Harry's cloak draped over her arm and illuminated her wand to inspect the tunnel for the sturdiest spot to burrow through. Soft warm light lit up the muddy dugout and she scanned everything her light touched.
Lyra blinked.
A large piece of parchment was lying a few feet ahead, trampled beneath what she could only assume was her own footsteps. She cursed her past self under her breath and collected the poor magical map, hoping the damage was strictly cosmetic.
"Defodio!" She muttered at the tunnel wall and she backed away as invisible paws burrowed into the dense mud just above her head. She forced the spell deeper and began to claw her way out of the passageway when she felt the breeze of the icy forest against her pink cheeks.
Lyra flopped out onto mulch-strewn ground and kicked at the newly-made hole, struggling to pull her legs through without caking her clothes in wet mud. Like a large rabbit burrow or a badger sett, the hole was indistinguishable from the other animal dens scattered through the forest but Lyra still made the effort to conjure a flimsy wooden cover made from fallen branches.
"Lovely!" She complimented aloud, taking a step back to admire her work, but her arms fell limply by her side when she heard someone reply from within the ghastly trees. The faint scent of soap wafted toward her as though in warning.
"You cannot go one moment without inflating your precious ego, can you?"
Severus Snape appeared from the darkness he was molded from and flicked his black wand with unshakable purpose. The remnants of the bubble gave his stained robes a chromatic sheen and his hair was greasier than ever.
Lyra wasn't sure how she ended up on her back but she was absolutely certain that she wasn't going to get away from him this time. The black rope Snape used to restrain her was hauntingly familiar and she squeezed her eyes shut to prevent the oncoming hisses of her past. Not now, please!
Her panic attacks never listened to rhyme or reason before, why would they start now?
He knows what you truly are, he can see how black your soul is and how much it yearns for me, darling… He knows that you are forever mine…
SHUT UP!
"This is a first, have you run out of stupid comments?" crooned Snape, circling her as though sizing up how best to torture her. "Open your eyes, Black, at least have the decency to look at me when I'm talking to you."
The sores on her wrists wept as his rope ripped them open, she couldn't move her arms or legs. She was tied up like a hog, destined to be roasted over a spitting pyre. Of course she didn't want to look into the eyes of the man who craved her destruction.
"I said open your eyes!"
Look at him, Black. Let him see the girl you truly are. Let him see me inside of you…
"OPEN THEM!"
NO!
The nearby explosion of wood and stone ricocheted through the forest and disrupted Snape's unrepentant display of authority. He snapped his neck toward the direction of the shack and ever so slightly lowered his wand arm, as though debating whether to leave her or not, but his curiosity won over his desire to harm.
"Stay… here…" Snape hissed as he chained her to the nearest tree, "and pray that the wild animals aren't on the hunt for their evening meal."
It was only when Lyra listened to his footsteps fade into the distance that she dared to open her eyes. She channelled her breaths into a slower, steadier rhythm and tussled with the unbreakable rope wrapped around her arms like poison ivy. It appeared that Snape was a pro at typing people up, how unsettling.
Her panic reared its head again when she realised he'd not only stolen Harry's cloak and their map, but her wand too! She couldn't see it anywhere.
"FUCK!" She screamed into the night, kicking the leaves around. "God fucking damn it!"
And the night yelled back.
"Lyra?!" Harry was close.
"Where are you?!" But Hermione was closer.
"Snape tied me to a tree! Can you believe that? Actually no, don't answer that!" Lyra exclaimed, pulling the ropes taut so she could hoist herself onto her feet. She swung herself around and beamed at Hermione who came rushing out of the bushes, huffing and puffing about Snape's capital punishment-esque style of handling a truanting student.
"At least you're alive, that was my main concern," she pointed out as she worked away at Snape's spell resistant ropes with a sharp rock, "I think it's time I start carrying that dagger around with me."
"You're telling me," Lyra sighed, patiently holding her hands out, "although I think Snape finding my silver sword on me tonight would've officially tipped him over the edge."
"Are you ok? Are you hurt? What did you do? What did he do?" Harry demanded to know as he popped into her peripheral with a significantly sharper stone, his muddy face wrought with unrivalled loathing. "Also I swear I saw a huge bubble over the forest but Hermione doesn't believe me, was that you?"
Lyra smirked. "Did you see who was inside of the mysterious bubble?"
Harry nearly dropped the stone along with her jaw. "You didn't…"
"That explains these then," Hermione commented, and with a strained grunt she snapped the compromised fraying rope in two.
"What do we think? Will I be handcuffed a third time tonight?" Lyra mused, tossing the rope far into the woods where she hoped she'd never see them again.
"I wouldn't put it past you to aim for five times in one night," Harry wagered, earning one of her famous impish smiles.
"Besides the obvious, how did it go?" wondered Hermione, and Lyra lost her humour pretty quickly. Her wand…
"Snape has my wand, he didn't have it upstairs when I searched him so it must've dropped downstairs when you blasted him into the wall," she relayed the more pressing issue and the pair winced, disappointed by the extra task.
"We must be in the bedroom by now," Being the only one who reset their watch once they went back, Hermione checked the time and beckoned them toward the shack's boundary fence. "We need to sneak inside and find your wand now, while things are quiet. The moon is due to appear in less than ten minutes."
The trio snuck through the tall grass and silently crept into the shack's garden. Lyra stuck her head through the hole she blasted through the wall and paused, straining her ears as her friends held their breaths. There was no sign of movement above them, only the muffled sounds of discussion travelled through the floorboards. So far, so good.
"Be quick," Harry hissed after Lyra as she tiptoed through the wreckage Snape caused and scanned the splintered shrapnel for her treasured pale stick. Her insides threatened to wring themselves as seconds turned into minutes but her eyes grew sharper as the pressure mounted. Footsteps, shuffles and scrapes. Louder voices. And still no wand.
"Lyra?" Hermione's whisper carried through the empty shack but Lyra snubbed her and started to furiously dig through the piles of wood chips and dust, unfazed by her growing volume. It had to be, she couldn't have lost it. Not now. Not while she was on the precipice of discovering another piece to her life puzzle. Ollivander is gonna murder me.
Harry's paled face popped around the peeling hallway arch. "I think they're coming, please tell me you found it?!"
"Not yet!" Lyra tried not to sound too worried but the second her voice cracked, Harry was already on his hands and knees tearing through the debris. She jumped down to help him, muttering every swear she could think of, and she nearly broke down in tears when Harry found it wedged underneath a cracked piece of skirting board.
"—I want to ask you all about your delightful teacher, let's discuss everything once we get back to Hogwarts."
Lyra and Harry's moment of joy vanished and they whipped their heads around to see Hermione frantically waving at them from shadows of the trapdoor entrance, begging them not to move.
"They'll hear you!" She mouthed at them, eyes wide in horror.
Harry carefully nudged Lyra away from the stairs and inched himself into harm's way. She didn't realise what he was doing as she was so fixated on the conversation playing out a mere metre above their heads.
She heard herself scream Remus' name and her heart broke all over again. It wasn't fair, none of this was.
"REMUS, GET BACK IN HERE! DRINK!"
"Harry, I need you to help me outside," Lyra timed her whisper to coincide with Peter's attack, the crash of the pair upstairs caused the beams to shake and shudder around them. "Hermione and I will be ok."
"I was afraid you were going to say that," he said out of the corner of his mouth, flinching at the dreaded creaking of Sirius and Remus' feet on the landing. He was on the verge of saying something else but he quickly changed his mind as he interlocked his little finger with hers. Suddenly Lyra couldn't hear anything anymore, only the beating of both of their spiked hearts.
"Try not to get yourself handcuffed again," he said deadpanned and Lyra felt what could only be described as a beacon of light washing over her, warming her up and preparing her for the fight ahead.
"Oooh hard pass," she breathed.
"NO!"
CRASH!
Before Lyra realised that the heavy mass falling down the stairs was actually Remus starting his transformation and not a piece of furniture, Harry was already gone. She leapt through the trapdoor after Hermione and slapped the cover shut as the werewolf emerged from their fall with a piercing howl. The hairs on both of their arms pricked but they never let go of the door no matter how badly they were shaking.
"It's ok! Sirius has dealt with him plenty of times," Lyra gave Hermione her best impromptu pep talk when her teeth started to chatter. "Run straight upstairs when I open this door, don't give Remus a chance to smell you."
Hermione nodded though she looked utterly shell-shocked. "We should've brought dungbombs with us, the putrid scent would've helped mask us, we should've prepared more!"
"No time for thinking! Just do! Your gut will lead you, and if your gut is out of order then listen to your heart," Lyra opposed her negativity and took a deep, calming breath. By the sounds of the feral jaw snaps, growls and bull-like behaviour occurring on the other side of the doors, she figured she would need to lead by example so she latched into her best friend's arm in solidarity.
"I've got you, Granger. Wand at the ready."
The shack groaned and the bedroom floor collapsed. Lyra flung the doors open and dove into the thick cloud of wood dust filling the air, feeling around for the staircase bannister. She found just as Hermione screamed and she dragged her up the stairs in the nick of time.
The bottom steps crumbled as Sirius tackled the bloodthirsty werewolf to the floor and Lyra refused to look behind her. Meeting the eye of a werewolf would immediately put a target on her back, it would be the last thing she ever did.
Lyra threw Hermione in front of her as they ripped the bedroom door open and slammed it shut behind them. She made a point to lock the door and leant against it as she tried to catch her breath but the remaining air in her lungs came out as a half-exasperated, half-elated hiss. Hermione had launched herself at the wildly confused boy watching them as though they'd just appeared from thin air and refused to let go. He was standing beside the giant hole separating him and Snape who was still knocked out.
"How did you—? Where's Harry?" He croaked and he held Hermione steady, unsure how to react to her fierce gesture. "You're crying, is Harry ok?"
"Harry's fine," Lyra panted, her nose wrinkled in appreciation of Hermione's fiery passion. She still hadn't let go of him. "We need to get out of here. Now."
"Don't you dare let go of my hand, Ronald Weasley," Hermione demanded, choking back her tears so she could scowl at him. Ron had never been more speechless. "We're going out the window."
Although she really, really didn't want to, Lyra realised she had to be the bigger man and wake Snape up. Time hated her already, she didn't want to know what the higher power would do to her if Snape accidentally died and she claimed a soul she wasn't supposed to reap. She peered into the hole, pouted at the tufts of black and brown hair sticking from beneath the debris and broken planks of wood, and sidestepped toward the prick.
"You're not waking him up, right?" Ron noticed her action first, and Lyra begrudgingly nodded. "You're nuts."
"Window! Now!" Hermione pestered, shoving him toward the broken glass and sharp drop beyond the bedroom. Lyra could just about pick out the sounds of her past self challenging Peter over the vicious growls as she nudged Snape with her foot.
But then the growls grew louder and fate came knocking. The door exploded as the monstrous chestnut wolf burst into the bedroom, driven senseless by the mouthwatering, hot-blooded human scent that drenched the air. Time slowed to an agonising crawl as though to punish the girls for their attempt to change Ron's fate, all Lyra could do was grapple onto her Potions Master to stop herself from falling and watch the horror show play out…
Up until the very end, Hermione never gave up. She never performed well under pressure, she often doubted herself under time constraints and the very idea of a life or death situation made her cheeks flush. But within the space of Remus entering the bedroom with his jaws wide open and him wrapping them around Ron's ribs, Hermione fought against her demons and acted on her heart's shrieking demands.
She shoved Ron to the side and threw herself into Remus' direct line of fire. The werewolf snapped its neck from Ron to Hermione and welcomed the change on the menu with a guttural growl. He was faster than lightning, she was done for.
"NO!"
The werewolf never saw the pillow coming, none of them did. With a battle cry, Ron barged his shoulder into Remus' extended snout and pushed Hermione into the window. He slipped on the glass and the werewolf snatched the first chance he could to bite the boy, he was enchanted by the taste of his blood in the air.
"RON NO!"
Lyra knew she would never forget the sound Ron made when his ribs shattered between Remus' teeth. The sound of bones crunching, the gargled choking noise his throat made, and Hermione…
Time resumed the moment the equally large black dog entered the crime scene, clamped his own menacing set of lethal jaws around the scruff of the werewolf's neck and forced him to release Ron. The second he dropped his first ever piece of child morsel, Sirius ripped him out from the bedroom and back down the stairs like a strict father disciplining his feral cub.
Lyra couldn't look at them. If she processed the unthinkable playing out across the gaping hole then she would never leave them. It would trigger something dark in her mind and now was definitely not the time to relapse. She didn't realise she was crying until she tried to speak, but luckily she didn't need to say anything.
"Lyra, it's ok just go! I'll be right behind you!" Hermione yelled at her over the noise of Ron dying so she scurried away from Snape who was finally responding to their deafening screams and left the devastating bloodbath, repeatedly telling herself that she was doing the right thing.
Help Dad. Help Sirius. Ron will be ok. Help Sirius…
Oops sorry I lied, its 4 parts!
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