"Next stop — Selkie Seaport, England!"
About time, I can't take any more of this! Why didn't I get a stupid passport?!
Diamond sea spray glistened on the top deck of the SS Hippokampos as the formidable wizard-manned cruise ship breached the surface of the English Channel. It dazzled in the summer sunshine like a flaunting dolphin and rushed to blend in with the other ships slowly passing by.
To the untrained Muggle eye, the cruise liner looked plain at most, with peeling cream paint and no distinguishing decorations except a seafoam flag brazened with a golden Grecian Hippocampus, the ship's notable namesake. Once past the shielding charm that protected the vessel like a bubble, however, the colossal boat was two degrees away from being a travelling circus/hotel that showcased all varieties of vacationing supernatural beings from around the world.
Lyra truly wanted to take full advantage of the SS Hippokampos while it transported her to and from Egypt… but it turns out wizards' boats are way more terrifying than regular Muggle boats. Regular boats don't suddenly transform into submarines without warning when you're braving your first trip onto the open deck to see if you can get over your fear of the sea for one! Stupid boat with all its stupid quirks!
Ocean water and seaweed streamed past the portholes like rain as the boat emerged, and Lyra gripped her seat with the such intense pressure that her painted nails pierced the rubber fabric.
Don't sink, please don't sink!
Most of the passengers began to file out of the enchanted lounge to take their first breath of fresh air since the shores of the Alboran Sea, where they dropped off a heavily intoxicated family from Gibraltar who had been causing quite the scene at the bar. The familiar salty smell breezed into the room and churned her stomach again but she refused to let her fear win.
"That was the last time, Lyra, you're ok," murmured Hermione, patiently soothing her friend with a shoulder rub as it seemed to be the best way to calm her, "we'll be off the boat in no time at all. You're doing so well, just keep breathing."
Lyra squinted up at her compassionate best friend and nodded, focusing on the tropical mist Hermione wore instead of the sudden gushes of sea air that were now floating through the open portholes. She was perfectly fine in other parts of the boat, this particular cabin just happened to be the worst.
The two girls were sitting in the very corner of the main passenger lounge nicknamed the Neptune Deck. It was a gorgeous cabin themed after famous Astronomers with deep cobalt carpets, silver telescopes, twinkling encrusted star maps that moved with the sky beyond the glass ceiling, and sleek marble furniture that was almost too beautiful to touch. It was truly a stunning place to be, considering her own namesake she couldn't help but fall in love with the decorations, but it so happened that everywhere Lyra looked she could see some part of the ocean.
Surrounded by dozens of trunks, the girls both volunteered to oversee their belongings whilst everyone visited the bottom observation deck to admire the depths of the seas one last time. Lyra knew Hermione wanted to go with them, but she insisted that she had seen enough and stayed by her side.
"Tell me again why I agreed to this trip?" Lyra groaned, shoving her head between her knees as she felt the boat jolt unexpectedly.
"Because you needed it. You got to meet the rest of your cousins, and we had an amazing time in Cairo seeing a Sphynx for the first time. You said seeing the mummies inside the Pyramids was worth the boat trip, remember? Concentrate on the good parts," Hermione encouraged, reaching for Lyra's photo album as a distraction, and she flicked through the Polaroids with a cheesy grin on her golden brown face. Her new deep tan highlighted tiny gold flecks in her brown eyes, and Lyra tried to replicate the sheer joy she felt over the past couple of weeks as she tried to match her energy.
Despite their mode of transport, Egypt was nothing short of a dream, Lyra had the time of her life in Cairo with the Weasleys, the Grangers, and Harry.
They stopped off in Romania first and picked up Charlie, the first of two Weasley cousins she'd yet to meet, and Lyra was pleasantly unsurprised to find out he was as cool as he sounded from his sibling's stories. Covered in work-related scars and a scattering of dragon tattoos, Charlie greeted Lyra as though they had known each other their whole lives and he smothered her with as many pictures of the dragons he was responsible for while he spoke about Hagrid's recent visit to the sanctuary. He reflected her appreciation of dragons, as well as Quidditch and his adoration for his close school friend Tonks, and before the cruise liner even docked in Suez Lyra felt justified with his placement as her fourth favourite Weasley, to Ron's chagrin.
Bill, somehow, was just as impressive as his younger brother, with eccentric leather cloaks, rugged shoulder-length hair, and a collection of piercings that he hid from a concerned Molly. He was the perfect tour guide, Bill relished his responsibility of showing the large group around the capital city where they indulged in delicious shawarma and sticky baklava, and he astonished his family (and worried his mother further) by introducing them to the Bes, the elected guardians of the wizarding city that dwelled amongst the Muggles in Cairo.
They were short, stocky spirits with round bellies and lolling pink tongues — Lyra didn't remember seeing any Bes that were taller than her shoulder — who seemed to laugh and jest constantly no matter the situation. The night they met the head of the Bes, Bill explained that they were currently dealing with the aftermath of an Apep sighting on the outskirts of Luxor, an extremely sensitive matter, but nobody could take them seriously as two of the Bes were snickering and pulling funny faces behind him throughout Bill's solemn retelling. They reminded Lyra of a colony of miniature, good-natured Peeveses and she could only imagine how exciting it must be living amongst them — it was fantastic!
"Yeah, I remember," Lyra sighed, admiring her pictures of Fred and George navigating one of the smaller pyramids as though it was a fun slide, "thank you for keeping me sane."
"I wouldn't go that far, I don't think anyone can cure you of your insanity yet, but give me time," teased Hermione, but the squeaking coming from Ron's luggage caught her ears and she tutted, reaching over to find out what was wrong. "Again? I swear he's doing it on purpose now, we've only just put him back."
"Poor Scabbers," pouted Lyra, jumping up to help Hermione pry the neurotic, shrill rat that was causing a fuss out from his hiding place.
Over the past couple of weeks, Scabbers hadn't stopped squeaking, he wanted constant attention from his owner or his friends and he wouldn't stop until someone answered his calls. Ron insisted that he was fine, there wasn't anything physically wrong with him except he was looking a little thin, and he promised that bringing his pet on their trip to Egypt would sort him out and resolve whatever issue he had.
"Maybe he's still freaking out about the basilisk," Ron had told them.
He couldn't have been more wrong.
"I wonder what's up with him?" Hermione murmured, gingerly passing the wriggling rat over to Lyra who had a handful of treats waiting.
"He's probably just lonely," Lyra shrugged, giggling to herself as his stubby whiskers tickled her palm, "although there usually is one common explanation when an elderly pet becomes clingy out of nowhere."
She dropped her voice out of courtesy, and Hermione chewed on her lip.
"Oh…" She caught on immediately, and her thick brows dipped sadly, "oh no, Ron's going to be so upset. That does make sense though, he is incredibly old…"
"And incredibly beaten up, bless him. I swear animals can sense when their time is up, they must have a sixth sense," Lyra noted as she held Scabbers up to the light and pointed out his mangled paw, "but he is a survivor, you've gotta give him credit for staying alive this long. I wonder if Ron will buy an owl this time?"
"Lyra! Don't say that in front of him!" Hermione scolded, reaching over to cover Scabber's ears, "He's not dead yet!"
"It's not like he can understand us! Relax," Lyra scoffed. Once Hermione turned around to tend to her bag, she pulled Scabbers closer and gave him an extra pet out of sympathy. He was fidgeting a lot more now, she didn't mean to scare him.
"Don't worry bud, I'm just teasing, you've still got a long life ahead of you," she hissed, and Scabbers' squeak sounded almost like a sigh of relief.
The cruise ship's fog horn sounded out across the harbour as it smoothly pulled into the secret, chaotic wizarding moors in Southampton called Selkie Seaport, nicknamed after the herd of Selkies that culminated in the area centuries ago.
Protected by the accords of the Statute of Secrecy, the seaport was bursting with life at all hours of the day with crowded fisherman stalls, kiosks advertising Kraken and Morgawr sailing experiences, independent nautical-themed cafes that sold only the freshest fish and chips Lyra had ever tasted, and tiny timber-made shops run by the original Selkie descendants who made a living trading magical aquatic plants and bubble-breathing aids. Dead squids and sea serpents hung from flagpoles lining the docks like morbid trophies, but the towering, burnished bronze statue of a Selkie holding a trident that shot out spurts of water drew the most attention as it sat square in the centre of the docks, stealing the show.
As the head of the Selkie statue passed the nearest porthole, Lyra leapt out of her seat and frantically waved at the returning group who had finally emerged from the observation deck to hurry up. She could practically hear solid ground calling her name as the main doors swung open, and tears pricked her eyes when she ran out and spotted a tiny, vibrantly-dressed Danielle locking up her silver Ford in the very distant car park beyond the harbour.
Lyra's two-week break to Egypt was an excellent remedy for the trauma festering inside of her, but it was only a temporary solution. The anticipation of going abroad with her friends and family made her first week at Coles somewhat bearable. She knew happiness and adventure were waiting just around the corner so the nightmares never stuck around for long…
But now she had nothing to look forward to. The nightmares caused by her previous school year were going to come back stronger than ever. They were going to agonise her for weeks, maybe even months, while she was stuck at Coles alone with her thoughts. It was inevitable.
But at least she'd have Danielle. Her counselling sessions were due to begin this evening, she wasn't looking forward to reliving those rough memories yet but it was something positive she could focus on.
After their smooth departure from the SS Hippokampos, Lyra decided to take one last look at the extravagant cruise ship and snapped a final photograph of her home for the past two weeks. It may have been hell, but it certainly was a whole lot better than Coles.
CLICK!
"I'm surprised you've not run out of film yet," commented Harry as he slid up next to her, taking his own moment to reflect on their two weeks of bliss as he gazed up at the huge boat, and Lyra tapped the tiny button that indicated she only had one more Polaroid left.
"Almost, so I suppose I better make this one count," she sighed, readjusting her gold bandana she purchased from one of the many Egyptian bazaars they explored, and she looked up at Harry expectantly. "You know what that means!"
The past couple of weeks treated Harry well, he clearly needed the holiday just as much as she did.
The hot sun and access to nutritious food worked wonders as he seemed to shoot up like a growing sprout, he was over a head taller than her now, glowing from his healthy tan, and his shoulders were most definitely broader than before. Most of his face was hidden beneath the shadow of a black and red cap, a staple piece of clothing he'd been sporting for most of their trip so he could hide his identity from the public, but at Lyra's pointed gaze he removed it and shoved it into his backpack with an eye roll. She wasn't going to let his hat shadow ruin her final photograph, although his dishevelled hair didn't look any better. Lyra decided not to comment, she preferred the messy look.
"Better?" He asked dryly, and Lyra dazzled him with a grin and pulled him closer with an arm hooked around his neck, forcing him down to her level.
"Much better. Now everyone can see your pretty face!" She laughed, and snapped her final photograph of them both in front of the ship, commemorating their first-ever vacation. Lyra noticed when the Polaroid formed that it was the first time Harry didn't visibly recoil at the printed results so she slipped it into his bag and tapped the pocket for good measure. His goofy smile was enough of a thank you but they were called back to their group before he could express his gratitude properly.
The final stop and Danielle's collection point was at the local pub located at the entrance to Selkie Seaport, the infamous Salty Krup.
At first, it appeared to be a small, abandoned warehouse with a rusted tin roof and corpses of old boats lying in its yard from the outside, but once inside, the Salty Krup transformed into the ultimate maritime pub decked with polished driftwood floors, balconies hung with dozens of magical flags, mismatched tables and chairs that looked liked they had been ripped straight out of an old pirate ship, and great parchment maps pasted onto the high ceilings whose painted seas moved with the actual tides across the world. The fresh scent of beer batter and pickled cockles welcomed the group like a warm hug as they entered the pub and they shuffled towards the stone fireplaces at the back, its hearths cemented with seashells and coloured sea glass.
"Seriously, Ron, you need to put Scabbers out of his misery, I can't take the noise anymore," complained Fred as he hauled the last trunk in front of the fireplace as his family got ready to depart. Once again Ron was struggling to comfort his crying rat and he flicked his middle finger up at his brother, annoyed that he found himself agreeing to his sentiment.
"Don't say that!" spat Percy, just as offended.
"He's an innocent, little rat, don't be mean," agreed Ginny, flicking her sunglasses up to glare alongside Percy, but Fred shrugged, unbothered by the pushback.
"I thought it was a good idea," encouraged George, patting his twin on the shoulder.
"That's enough bickering, don't ruin the lovely time we've just had," Molly called out to her children from under her oversized straw hat, but her stern motherly stare disappeared in a blink when Hermione's parents began to say their goodbyes and tried to coax themselves and their daughter away from their friends.
Hugo and Claire Granger became extremely fond of Molly and Arthur over the course of their trip, it was hard for them to pry themselves away. Being the only Muggles in the group they were very apprehensive about tagging along with the wizarding family at first, but after sharing a bottle of wine or two throughout their holiday they grew to be thick as thieves. Hermione pointed out how unusual it was to see her parents giggling like school children whenever they hung out with Ron's parents, but Lyra found it rather adorable.
"You'll have to come and stay with us one summer," Mrs Granger said softly as she offered Lyra a hug, "there aren't any beaches nearby but we do have some terrific forests that you'd love."
"And we have museums too," Hermione chipped in with an enthusiastic nod, "or maybe you could come back with me for Christmas! Our village puts on this wonderful Christmas market, it'll be so fun!"
"That sounds awesome! I'd love to!" gasped Lyra, enthralled by the idea as she accepted their hugs, "I'm sure Danielle will say yes."
"What am I saying yes to this time?" sighed Danielle, surprising the group by sneaking up on them, and Lyra squealed as she pounced at her. Today her key worker was sporting a groovy, orange and purple co-ord set consisting of flared trousers and a buttoned blouse, and her thin locs were wrapped in an elegant knot on top of her head. Huge sunglasses covered half her face, but she slipped them off and greeted the group with her usual pearly white smile, keen to hear all about their trip.
"I can't help that I'm so popular," Lyra pouted, allowing Danielle the chance to fix her hair and reknot her bandana like a fussy older sister picking apart her youngest sibling.
"At this rate, I don't think I'm ever going to see you," Danielle teased, resisting the urge to purse her lips, and Lyra chose not to point out that they were going to spend a hell of a lot of time together after today. Any chance she had to gloss over what she was going through, especially in front of other people, she seized it. Her damage became an unspoken agreement, the name Tom never left anyone's lips just like he never left her mind.
Well, except for that one night with Harry…
But Lyra dropped that difficult thought before it formed and persevered to stay present. She had been doing so well, she couldn't crack and let the darkness swallow her… yet.
The Weasleys dished out their farewells along with two heartfelt promises that they would see them very soon, and in a flurry of Floo powder and green flames, Lyra, Harry, and Danielle were left alone in the crowded wizard pub. Part of the reason Harry was allowed to join them on the vacation was that his family didn't need to do anything, Danielle wrote them a strongly worded letter that explained that Harry was going on the trip whether they liked it or not and she vowed to take him there herself if she had to.
"Thank you again for this," Harry said earnestly for the hundredth time as they slowly made their way out of Selkie Seaport and into the Muggle world, "you really don't have to drive all the way to Surrey, I can take the train."
"Don't be silly, pet, we're dropping you home," smiled Danielle, wheezing slightly as she demanded to take their heavy trunks from them, "it's no bother at all."
"Besides, the longer we're away from Coles the happier we'll be," agreed Lyra, embracing the warm rays as they stepped out onto the cobbled side street that ran along the harbour, "we could even take the scenic route back…?"
"And add four more hours onto our drive? Lyra, please, I do have to sleep sometime this evening," scoffed Danielle, her wedges clacking in time with their trunks' wheels, "besides, Apollo has been making a racket at my place and my landlord keeps threatening to drop by for a surprise inspection."
"Then tell him that Apollo is a friend, not a pet," Lyra said obviously, but Danielle's dark cheeks burned as she snuck a glimpse of the boy walking beside her.
"It's not only Apollo that's been staying at my flat…he keeps inviting Hedwig along too," she muttered, and Harry looked like he was about to keel over and die out of shame.
"I thought I sent her off to stay at the Burrow, I'm so sorry!" he gushed, embarrassed by his owl's hooky behaviour, but Danielle laughed it off as she dug through her handbag for her car keys. The quaint car park was rather busy today, and Lyra couldn't help but let her gaze wander, watching the other Muggle families around them carrying fishing rods and picnic baskets.
"Honestly, it's absolutely fine. I'd much rather both of your owls were safe and sound at mine than locked up in your bedrooms for two weeks, but I swear to God they are just as misbehaving as you two are," revealed Danielle, and the pair couldn't help but exchange impish smiles.
The silver Ford was stifling as the trio slid inside, windows were immediately wound down and Lyra thanked the car profusely for having fabric seats. She claimed the front seat for herself while Harry stretched out in the back, enjoying the spacious legroom, but when Lyra heard him scoff she spun around to check if he was ok.
Harry held up a copy of The DailyProphet that Danielle had chucked onto the floor and flashed her the front cover. Danielle immediately snorted in laughter, taking a peek in her rearview mirror.
"Oh, no way! I guess your hat idea didn't work!" Lyra giggled, watching a headline photograph of her, Harry, Ron, and Hermione browsing an Egyptian fez stall in Cairo, trying to find the perfectly-sized hat for Scabbers in an attempt to cheer the rat up. At first, she expected to cringe at the image of herself that the paparazzi snapped, but the angle was remarkably complimentary — she didn't look half bad! Realising just how freckly she looked in the photo, however, Lyra flipped the passenger mirror down and gawked at herself in despair.
"Am I really that blotchy?" she moped, grabbing her cheeks in disgust.
"You look beautiful, sweetheart," said Danielle automatically, "in fact, it was once thought that the old Celtic gods blessed certain people with freckles so they wouldn't forget the stars hidden behind the rain clouds. You've been kissed by the stars, you're not blotchy.
"Oh…" Lyra flipped the mirror back and savoured her imaginative words. She secretly loved that theory, "Then I guess I'll keep them."
"You should, who knows when we'll need a map of the stars," commented Harry facetiously, bringing her attention back to the paper. "I dunno why this is front page news though, the article under it doesn't even mention where we are, they're just recycling what they wrote about what happened at school."
"Dad told me they're lacking on breaking news at the moment," Danielle informed as the car stuttered into action, "and pictures of you are selling like hot cakes, they're trying to draw in younger readers."
"Tell me about it," sighed Lyra, thinking back to the staggering amount of autographs they sold last term, but Harry tossed the paper back onto the floor and shook his head when he spotted the ambitious glimmer in Lyra's eyes.
"Our business is on a break, Black, take that look off your face, my autograph-writing hand is on holiday still," he called out to her, but Lyra simply switched the radio on and flashed him her prettiest smile as the newest UB40 hit began to play.
"Maybe!"
The drive from Southampton to Surrey was something out of a music video, with the wind blowing through their hair and sweet sticky snacks the pair bought back from Egypt, it was the perfect ending to their amazing trip.
Lyra and Harry exhausted themselves as they described their adventures to Danielle in full detail, they didn't leave anything out and they only grew more animated in their storytelling when Danielle chuckled and gasped in all the right places. Even the scenery beyond their rolled-down windows reflected their glorious moods, the blue sky stayed crisp and clear throughout the afternoon, and Lyra was besotted by the deepening fuchsia streams painted through the fluffy clouds when the evening arrived as they drove into Surrey County.
Lyra could tell Harry was growing nervous by how quickly he quietened once they spotted the signpost directing them towards Little Whinging. He was dreading going back to his Muggle life almost more than Lyra was and for good reason. Lyra clenched her fists in her lap and concentrated on keeping her mouth closed, the last thing he needed was her reminding him how awful his aunt and uncle were, and she wanted to keep her privileges. If Danielle sensed trouble then she was going to forbid her from leaving the car.
When she spotted him frowning in the wing mirror for the third time, though, Lyra couldn't resist. She had to do something to give him some sort of hope.
"Jesus Christ! Lyra?!" Danielle yelled as Lyra unbuckled her seatbelt and clambered into the backseats, almost kicking her in the face in the process.
"This is an emergency!" she countered seriously, trying not to crash into Harry as they turned a sharp corner into what looked like a picturesque suburban estate. Harry's glum expression vanished instantly and he helped her out as her foot seemed to be stuck in the gap between the passenger seat and the armrest.
"Do you remember that weird guy who kept shouting at me at that bazaar in Ashmun?" She asked. Harry stifled a snicker and nodded, and Danielle arched a groomed brow in the rear view mirror, "yeah, so I actually went back to yell at him while we were getting lunch, and I ended up buying these."
"You did what?" Danielle exclaimed, refusing to take her eyes off the road no matter how badly she wanted to spin around and shout at her for being stupid.
"It was fine! He was actually a cool guy in the end, if anything he was scared of me – nothing happened!" Lyra insisted, but she ignored Danielle's worried gaze and reached for her backpack. "Anyways, I was going to give it to you on the ship, but I'm kinda glad I left it until now."
"You need to stop buying me stuff, my bedroom is small enough as it is," he scoffed, suspicious of what she was about to reveal, "and Danielle's right, don't do that again considering what–..."
Harry trailed off, uneasy about repeating the elephant in the room – well, the elephant in the car. A common occurrence these days.
"Yes, yes, I know it was dumb— look, you're ruining the moment. The guy wasn't an evil soul trapped in a book, alright? He was an amulet salesman, and I got you this," sulked Lyra, deflated that both of them were determined to bring the mood down, and she half-heartedly chucked the golden Eye of Horus amulet at him. It was attached to a thin gold chain linked by a miniature ankh clasp, and Harry looked terribly guilty as he held it up and admired it in the dying sunshine.
Danielle fell silent, dotingly watching them in the reflection and trying not to coo.
"It's for protection or whatever," she mumbled, and she pulled her own amulet from her shorts pocket, an exquisitely detailed, golden jackal head the size of a bracelet bead, "he gave me the head of Anubis instead, and an ankh too so we can match."
"It's…" Words failed Harry as he gazed at his gift, piecing together the perfect sentence that would exemplify how much her gesture meant to him. Lyra saw the emotion well in his eyes and winked, no longer upset by the mentions of her past misdeeds, but the car slowed to a steady crawl as they approached the prim and proper cul-de-sac called PrivetDrive.
Lyra recognised the old lamposts from the view from Harry's bedroom and immediately dove at him, realising it was time for him to leave. Harry hugged her back, his arms snugly fitting around her neck without suffocating her, and she relished his heady, spicy floral fabric softener for the last time. He always smelt like a summer's day.
"Now, before we do this," began Danielle, addressing the preteens in the back as she touched up her makeup in her mirror, "Harry, I want to remind you that you can write to me at any time, day or night, and I will pick you up, no questions asked."
"Thank you, really, and I promise that Hedwig won't bother you otherwise," he reiterated, blushing faintly.
"And I promise that I will be dropping by soon, all questions asked," Lyra whispered as Danielle exited the car to fetch his trunk from the boot, and Harry smirked devilishly at the prospect.
"So you've finally spoken to Kreacher, then?"
Lyra blinked, disappointed at the realisation that she did, in fact, need to talk to her estranged house-elf in order to carry out her plan without Danielle's help.
"...Not yet, damn it!"
Refusing to dwell on the major elf issue currently in her life, Lyra followed
Harry out of the car and inspected the house marked with a neat, white number four, judging their weak taste in topiary with a wrinkled nose.
Harry's house looked exactly how she imagined it — dull and unwelcoming towards their types. Lyra noticed Danielle's twitchy glances around as the trio approached the front door — the neighbours' curtains were without a doubt rustling all around the street with every step the social worker took — and Lyra reacted how any normal person would in these sort of tense situations.
"Five galleons says not one person of colour lives on this street," she said loudly, and Harry burst out laughing. Danielle pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned, not looking forward to this encounter one bit.
"I swear to God child, keep your mouth closed— Er, good evening!"
As though they were triggered by the sound of Harry experiencing a moment of genuine happiness, the front door was ripped open and standing in the doorway as the oddest couple Lyra had ever seen. It was like looking at the personifications of the number ten, Harry's aunt and uncle couldn't have been more polemic if they tried, but their identical sneers of derision accentuated the fact that they were a match made in hell — they both were detestable, callous human beings.
Straight away, his uncle looked Danielle up and down as though she had just crawled out of his rubbish bins, while his aunt glowered at Lyra like she had just called her a bitch.
Confused, Lyra looked down at her outfit for any stains she had missed, she thought she looked fine. Cleaner than usual, perhaps. Her camo shorts were spotless, her black trainers were practically mud-free, and even her hair was manageable and glossy beneath her gold bandana, but a spiked chill ran down her spine when she realised Mrs Dursley's supercilious point of concern was how much skin Lyra was exhibiting – specifically below her neck.
Her cropped vest had grown a little bit too tight over the course of the holiday due to some unforeseen changes to her body, and Lyra made a mental note to go underwear shopping as soon as possible. Surely it's not that bad? I can't have grown that much...
Noticing an extra pair of leering eyes watching her from between the two churlish adults, Lyra subconsciously crossed her arms, failing miserably to stop herself from flushing bright pink.
Ah, and this must be the infamous Dudley, how charming!
"You're back, then?" grunted Harry's uncle, his heavy moustache twitching as he sneered at Danielle's taste in cars. His shiny Bentley lay in the drive a metre away, shimmering the evening sunset as though trying to show off, and Lyra fought the urge to smash his wing mirror.
"Obviously," said Harry deadpanned. Lyra tensed up and refused to look at him. Of all the times to laugh, now was not one.
"Don't sass your uncle – In! Now!" snapped his aunt, her bright beady eyes narrowed as she pointed towards the stairs behind her, and Lyra's heart sank as Harry obeyed her spiteful wishes.
So that's the stairs, huh… evil, evil people…
"Hi, my name is Danielle Greene, I was the one who picked Harry up, in case you were curious or cared at all who your nephew was with," greeted Danielle with the cadence of someone who was polite and friendly, but with the charm of someone who knew everything about them. She extended her manicured hand towards them, giving them the courtesy to play along with the facade if they knew what was good for them, but neither of them obliged.
In fact, Mr Dursley looked straight up offended that she even thought that he would touch her.
"Mmphf," he grunted again, "I'm not paying you for fuel if that's why you're here."
"Of course not, Mr Dursley, that's not why I'm here" smiled Danielle, and she removed her sunglasses once more so they could see the passive aggression in her eyes.
"Danielle's a social worker, her fuel is already paid for since she has to visit family homes as part of her job," Lyra burst out, losing her grip on her tongue, but the instant radish colour evading the Dursleys' face was so satisfying.
"S-Social worker?" stammered Mrs Dursley, afraid that someone would hear them.
"Yup! One of the best in her field, in fact," Lyra added before Danielle subtly nudged her, and Harry ducked out of sight, hiding his laughter before he got caught.
"They allowed someone like you to look after children?" Mr Dursley spat, but he was having trouble crossing his arms over his protruding gut and it didn't come across as menacing in the slightest. "Don't you have to be born in this country?"
"I was born in Britain, Mr Dursley, not that it matters," said Danielle slowly so they could pick up on her dulcet Welsh accent, "what does matter is the duty of care you have over Harry, or the lack thereof. You are exceptionally lucky that none of your eagle-eyed neighbours haven't reported you already, because the second that Professor Dumbledore gives the word then I will be coming back with reinforcement. I don't think the Department of Education or the police would be very happy if they had to drop by for a visit."
The mention of the headmaster resonated with Harry's aunt the most, her bony face paled until it matched the ghastly ivory wallpaper in their hallway and she gripped the front of her floral pinny. Lyra sensed something deeper to her reaction but she waved it away, not wasting any effort — she didn't deserve it.
"You wouldn't dare," growled Mr Dursley, but the slight shake was prominent. He knew she wasn't bluffing.
"Your reputation is safe as long as Harry is, it's that simple," Danielle explained lightly, and she started to herd Lyra away before she exploded. She was holding onto her fury considerably well, but they both knew it wouldn't last long. They didn't want to make Harry's situation any worse, but the soft threat was well-deserved. The Dursleys needed to know that they were being watched and that Harry had unyielding support.
"It was such a pleasure meeting you, by the way! Have a terrific evening!" Lyra yelled at them, exaggerating her waves as Danielle shoved her into the dusty Ford. She stuck her head through the window and made sure she secured one last look at her best friend. She caught the flash of his new amulet hanging around his neck, and her heart soared.
"Bye Harry! Make sure you write back to me because I will tell Danielle if you don't and we will drive back here to check if you're ok!" she threatened, doubling her grin when she spotted his aunt and uncle flinch again, fretfully watching their neighbours' windows for signs of eavesdroppers.
"Well, that went better than expected!" Danielle exhaled as they pulled out of Privet Drive and began their strenuous drive back to the coast of Dorset. "I think Harry was underexaggerating how blatantly nasty his family are, that was almost comical."
"Did you get a look at how tiny their stairs are? How the hell did he ever fit under there," Lyra agreed, grimacing at the image, but she turned her attention back onto the radio before she worked herself up. The more she dwelled on it, the worse she felt about ditching him in Little Whinging.
"...Why can't Harry come and live at Coles with me?"
The heavy question took Danielle off-guard and she fell silent, focusing on the Volvo's indicators in front of them on the road for a moment. Lyra chewed her lip and waited patiently, worried that it wasn't going to be an easy answer.
"I've asked Albus about removing Harry from his aunt and uncle's house multiple times, but he always says no. Harry must remain in his aunt's care, it's what's best for him," she muttered, trying not to get too emotionally invested in the case she could nothing about, "it's complicated, sweetheart, I'm sorry."
"Ugh, that sucks!" she growled, throwing her arms up in exasperation, "I bet it's because of his stupid, special blood magic thing!" She didn't really mean that, his blood magic thing was pretty awesome in actuality, but if it meant that he was stuck at his aunt's then it was the dumbest thing in the world. It wasn't fair…
"Let's try and stay positive, ok? Don't linger on predicaments you can't change, Harry will be perfectly fine," Danielle assured her, taking a hand off the wheel momentarily to stroke her cheek, but Lyra sensed the impending subject change through her soft fingertips.
"But while we're on the topic of feelings, I was thinking, since we're gonna be alone together for the next couple of hours… Maybe we could start discussing what happened at school…? About Tom…?"
The evening breeze was warm as it whooshed past, but Lyra felt colder than ice.
Suddenly she wished she was back in Privet Drive, that was so much easier to deal with than this. She thought she had time, that maybe Danielle would've been too tired after their road trip to remember their first counselling session was booked for tonight – but no. Lyra kept putting off the darkness, and now it was finally time to face it.
"Ok fine," she breathed and channelled her determination for good, "let's talk about Tom…"