Chapter Two
Little Lion Cub
"You're Lyra, right?"
I looked up from my nearly full plate to see the bushy haired Hermoine Granger standing next to me, looking nervous. It seemed like my cold shoulder didn't deter her.. Last night I had ignored the other Gryffindor girls in the dorm while they introduced themselves, instead drawing the curtains and hiding in my bed. I could hear them whispering about how rude I was, yet I couldn't find it in myself to care. My head had been swirling with much more important things. Like how the red velvet curtains seemed to taunt me.
Red and gold… Gryffindor. It was laughable. Ravenclaw was doable, great even. Respectable. There was a camaraderie between the Ravenclaws and Slytherins. Hufflepuff? Shameful, but I could manage, I could go through life being a disappointment and fly under the radar… not a traitor.
"Is it okay if I sit here?" Granger asked and before I could properly answer her, she sat in the seat next to me. I found myself frowning in disapproval. It was early in the morning so there were plenty of open seats at the table. Open seats she could have easily taken.
Hermione started to ramble on (something she seemed prone to doing) while I picked at my breakfast. Draco still hadn't shown up… I had been hoping he would arrive for breakfast early so that the two of us could talk.
Unfortunately for me, since Hermione and I were the only first years sitting at the table, the other first year Griffndor students all decided to sit near us as well when they finally trickled in. This included the infamous Harry Potter, who sat down across from us with a red headed boy who's name was Roland, or something like that. Definitely a Weasley. I had heard all about that family from Father.
Whatever I was expecting… this wasn't it.
In my mind Harry Potter had the air of sophistication and wisdom around him. He had defeated the strongest wizard known to man as a child and lived. He was supposed to carry himself with pride and grace.
He was not any of that. Not only was Harry Potter scrawny, but he looked rather disheveled. His black hair was a complete mess, sticking up everywhere, and glasses lopsided. The fact that he was piling an obscene amount of food on his plate and had no apparent table manners really helped shatter the image I had in my head. He was a far cry from the refined hero that I had envisioned. My Harry at least owned a comb.
One thing he had going for him was that he was pretty good at ignoring the attention he was getting.
Even though he was sitting in our group of first years, students in Gryffindor and other houses alike were all trying to get a look at the great Harry Potter. Our group was quickly becoming surrounded much to my disdain.
"There! Look, it's actually him."
"Did you see his face?"
"Did you see his scar?"
I scowled at the two third years who sat next to me, trying to get a closer at Potter. Potter was doing his best to ignore him, though from Weasley's ears which were slowly going red and the pause in their conversation, they clearly heard the girls.
McGonagall really needed to hurry up with the schedules.
When an elbow dug into my side as the darker haired girl tried to get up out of her chair to see Potter's scar, I had had enough.
"Didn't anyone tell you that it is rude to stare?" I snapped, Draco would have been proud about how much venom was in my tone. The dark haired girl's eyes went comically wide as she sat back down in her seat, her face flushing red.
"Just ignore her, Ruth." Her blond friend scoffed loudly. "That's Malfoy." She scoffed my last name like it was a curse and the two of them got up and left.
I rolled my eyes at their backs then turned back to my plate. The table was oddly quiet and looking up, I saw that almost all of the first years were looking at me in varying stages of surprise.
Luck was in my favor because before anyone could say anything, McGonagall showed up and started to pass out the first year schedules. My eyes wandered to the Slytherin table as McGonagall started to give us directions on how to get to our first class. Pale gray eyes met my own and I felt relief fill me as Draco's eyes glanced towards the doors, clearly wanting to meet. Nobody else mattered at that moment.
Thank Merlin he was still willing to talk to me.
As soon as Professor McGonagall moved onto the students sitting next to us, I got up and started to make my way out of the Great Hall. I was acutely aware of Draco walking behind me but neither of us said anything until we got further down the corridor, away from any prying eyes.
The moment Draco and I stopped, I grabbed his hand. It was childish but the familiarity made me feel better and worse at the same time. I felt my throat tighten, and for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts… I felt like crying. Draco's hand tightened around mine.
"Did you write Mother and Father last night?" Draco asked though we both knew the answer was no. "You couldn't sleep last night, could you?" I shook my head at that, trying to fight back down the emotions that were trying to bubble over. From the dark circles under his eyes, he didn't sleep much either.
"Do you-" I cleared my throat which was thick with emotion. "Do you hate me?"
Draco's eyes softened and his hand squeezed my own tightly. That was enough for me. I took a deep breath trying to gather myself.
"I don't know what to say to them. I know it will be so much worse if I don't reach out at all but… I'm a Gryffindor, Draco. They're going to be so disappointed."
We both knew how important this was to our family. Both sides of our family came from long lines of Slytherins. While Mother did have two family members who had not been in Slytherin, both had been disowned later down the line. It seemed like a curse more than anything else.
"It'll be fine, Ly." Draco whispered though it was clear that neither of us believed him. He shifted uneasily and was about to say something else when a voice cut through our conversation.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the little lion cub. Have fun sleeping with all that filth, Lyra? I wonder how long it will take for it to rub off on you." Pansy sounded positively giddy as she walked up with Daphne and a heavy set black-haired girl trailing behind her. While Pansy was practically bouncing with excitement, Daphne had a look of pity on her face. I really wasn't sure which was worse. My expression hardened as I turned to the group, trying my best to seem uncaring.
"How original Parkinson. Did you spend all night trying to come up with that?" I drawled and her pug-like face started to go red. "What, am I embarrassing you in front of your new lackey?"
"Don't talk to me like that you- you blood traitor!" She spat and for once I found myself recoiling at her words.
"Pansy!" Draco snapped but I cut him off.
"Why don't you piss off Parkinson. Nobody asked for your opinion. Nobody ever asks for your opinions." My voice went up a pitch and a savage smile grew on her face, seeing that she was getting under my skin. Draco placed a hand on my shoulder and the dark haired girl behind Pansy took a step forward.
"Get to class everyone!" A teacher shouted, breaking all of us out of our bubble. I pushed Draco's hand off of my shoulder ignoring his protests and shoved my way past the girls. The scowl on my face deepened.
This was not how my time at Hogwarts was supposed to go.
For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like I belonged. As classes went on it was obvious to tell that other students were talking about me, avoiding me. The other Gryffindors treated me like the plague, whispering about my connections to the Slytherins and some more far-fetched rumors that I was sent to spy on them. Most of the first years didn't seem to know what was going on but kept their distance just to be safe. The group I grew up with- the Slytherins didn't want to be associated with a blood traitor, no matter who my family was so I kept my distance. And Draco… Draco tried his best but I couldn't have him ostracized too. So I did my best to avoid him, to avoid everyone really.
I was exhausted by the time Friday came. Between avoiding everyone and waiting anxiously for a letter back from my parents, I was ready for the weekend. The one thing that Friday had going for it was that we had double potions with Snape and our first class with the Slytherins.
All the Gryffindors could talk about was how he showed blatant favoritism towards the Slytherins but I was excited. Growing up with Snape as a godfather had its perks. While he was as far from affectionate as you could get, he made sure that Draco and I knew the basics and would have a leg up by the time school started.
I arrived as close to the start of class as possible, purposefully ignoring Draco's attempt to catch my eye. Before he could attempt to talk to me, the bell rang and I slipped into the vacant seat next to Hermione Granger who gave me a small smile which I ignored as well. Hermione was a loner, not necessarily on purpose though. Her need to over-explain and ask thousands of questions got on the other students' nerves so I found myself sitting next to her more often than not.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making." Snape started, his voice barely a whisper but everyone's sole attention was on him, too scared of his dark and haunting demeanor to speak. Even I was enthralled with his words. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
I felt the corner of my mouth twitch at his insult. Hermoine was on the edge of her seat next to me, looking desperate to prove that she wasn't a dunderhead.
"Potter!" Snape said suddenly and Harry flinched from the table next to me. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
The whole class watched as Harry glanced over at Ron confused. Hermione's hand shot into the air and as much as I wanted to tell her to just sit back and listen for once, I didn't.
"I don't know, sir." Harry said and while Snape's expression was unamused, there was a glint in his eyes. He was enjoying this.
"Tut, tut- fame clearly isn't everything." Snape drawled.
"Let's try this again. Potter, where would I look if I told you to find me a bezoar."
"I don't know, sir."
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"
Hermione was almost out of her seat with her hand in the air as high it would go. She clearly couldn't read the room. I raised an eyebrow as I watched Snape carefully. I knew him to be blunt, cruel even on occasion, but I figured humiliating a first year was beneath him. It was almost like he had a personal vendetta against Potter. He was clearly enjoying this… Potter's face was starting to go red at the attention but he held Snape's gaze and I felt myself commending him. Snape even terrified me.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
At this point Hermione stood up.
"I don't know." Harry repeated. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her."
A laugh escaped me at the level of sass that came out of the scrawny green eyed boy. Snape's expression darkened.
"Sit down." He snapped at Hermione before his dark eyes landed on me. "Miss Malfoy, the answers?"
My back straightened at that.
"Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar will save you from most poisons and is found in the stomach of a goat. Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant." I recited and he gave a small nod before turning back towards the rest of the class, his cloak billowing behind him dramatically.
"Well, why aren't you all copying this down." He sneered. "A point from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter."
I glanced over at Harry's table and saw that Harry was scribbling down the notes, his face still slightly red, while Ron was scowling at me. Ignoring Weasley, I turned my attention back to Snape as he started to instruct the class on the potion to cure boils he wanted us to make.
"I'll get us set up if you want to gather ingredients" I said to Hermione as soon as Snape stopped talking. The bushy haired girl looked surprised but nodded, rushing over to the ingredients cabinet with half of the class. I really just didn't want to risk running into Pansy or Draco.
I pulled out my cauldron and proceeded to organize my tools on the table in front, just like Snape had taught. A clean and organized workstation was key to a good potion. I let Hermione instruct me on what ingredients to hand her while she took lead on the potion. I wasn't going to stop her in her quest for perfection.
Perfection really was what Hermione was striving for. I didn't say anything as Hermione ground our snake fangs into a fine powder, then proceeded to keep grinding at it for an additional five minutes. The brown haired girl double and triple checked all the directions twice before moving onto the next step and I watched almost fascinated as she triple counted the dried nettles and horned slugs before adding them into the potion. The most shocking part about it all was that our potion ended up being one of the best ones in the class. Part of me had expected Hermione to just be book smart to compensate for her upbringing, but it was becoming quite clear that she excelled with the practical stuff too. Something I really didn't expect from a muggleborn.
