Scenes from the Life of Lyra Lestrange: HP mini-series (part 1)
YEAR ONE
“Lyra Lestrange!”
The entire hall that was buzzing with energy and excitement just moments before due to the sorting ceremony had gone tense after Professor McGonagall had read off the name of the next first year to be sorted. A name that had quite the dark association attached to it. The Lestranges were, after all, quite notorious for the crimes they committed during the wizarding war under the command of Voldemort.
As with children and teenagers, murmurs started up almost immediately before they quieted down when a small figure with long dark hair moved forward amongst the first years that had yet to be sorted.
Lyra Lestrange held her head up high with a careful mask upon her face. She ignored the whispers of the students behind her and the shocked looks of the professors in front of her. Even the headmaster had gone still when her name had been called. In the next second she was sitting on the rickety three-legged stool that was clearly only standing due to magic and her vision was obscured by the brim of the sorting hat.
“Interesting, I never thought Bellatrix Black would have a child.”
Lyra stiffened, taking a deep breath in, and letting it go before responding to the hat.
“It was in the marriage contract, regardless of gender she and my father were supposed to produce an heir.”
“Another interesting tidbit. The Lestranges have always had a male heir and a male Head of House.” The sorting hat mused.
The girl mentally shrugged as she glanced down at the black diamond encased in a gold band that was fitted on the pointer finger of her right hand. Corvus oculum corvi non eruit, the Lestrange Family motto engraved on the outside of the band always filled her with a sense of pride and dread. The Lestrange heir ring had been there for over a year now – ever since she turned ten. Lyra sighed, “Are you going to sort me or root around my head for juicy family gossip to tell the headmaster about later tonight after the feast?”
“I’m quite deeply offended. Everything that I learn, I keep to myself. Not even the headmaster will know of what we talked about. But to business then… you are vastly different from either of your parents… perhaps that has to do with who you were raised by…”
“Perhaps so…” Lyra mused.
“Well, there’s plenty of ambition and you’re quite creative, I can see that clearly. Loyalty, oh yes, very loyal but only to those who’ve earned it… and yet… yet there is only one house that would benefit you… you might not see it but I have a good feeling.”
“GRYFFINDOR!”
The entire hall was silent as Lyra removed the sorting hat from her head and walked over to the Gryffindor table. There was no clapping, just looks of shock and surprise from the house of the lions. The dark-haired girl sighed quietly as she took a seat in the open space next to Hermione Granger.
This was going to be a long year…
It was literally only the second day into term. She had only been to two classes…
And she was already being led to the headmaster’s office.
Lyra was sure she had done absolutely nothing wrong. She had kept her head down and kept to her dorm when inside Gryffindor tower – she alone of the first year Gryffindor girls had a dorm to herself since it was five to a dorm and there were six female first years. She had been on time to breakfast and both of her classes. She took excellent notes if she did say so herself. She had even earned five points from Professor Flitwick for being the first to master the Lumos wand-lighting charm.
But McGonagall had been waiting for her before she had even made it to the Great Hall for lunch. All she said was that she was going to escort Lyra to see the headmaster. Lyra wanted to ask the older woman what Dumbledore wanted but she couldn’t seem to get her voice to cooperate.
It wasn’t long before McGonagall stopped and muttered something to a golden griffin statue that she was fairly sure was a few corridors away from the Gryffindor common room’s entrance. The griffin moved in response and a staircase revealed itself. Lyra raised a brow as her head of house ushered her up the stairs and through a plain wooden door. Inside were hundreds of portraits of what Lyra assumed were previous headmasters and headmistresses. Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk with two others sitting across from him. The two were both tall, a man and a woman, each with long and pale blond hair. She had never seen either of them in person before. But Lyra had seen them in pictures, mostly the society pages. Lyra was looking at her Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius.
Ce n’est pas bien. This could not be good.
Lyra looked to Professor McGonagall who placed an arm on her shoulder and guided her over to the three adults.
“Miss Lestrange, these people are Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy,” Dumbledore indicated towards the blonds with a tilt of his head, “Lady Malfoy is the younger sister of your mother, Bellatrix. They were quite pressed to meet with you – especially since they were unaware of your existence until very recently.” Dumbledore explained.
Lyra glanced at the Malfoys before turning back to Dumbledore and McGonagall (who had actually remained by her side instead of moving to stand next to Dumbledore or off to the side), “D’accord. Okay. It’s nice to meet you.” Lyra said, unsure of how to respond. She saw the way the two Malfoys looked at each other at her French accent. Even Dumbledore cast a questioning look at McGonagall. It wasn’t a heavily thick accent as she had grown up speaking just as much English as she did French.
Narcissa moved forward, giving Lyra an accessing look like she was judging Lyra’s very existence and held out her hand. “We were quite shocked when our son, Draco, wrote home about a first-year girl with the last name Lestrange who happened to be the spitting image of my sister.”
“And sorted into Gryffindor at that.” Lucius Malfoy cut in looking shrewdly at Lyra. While Narcissa seemed to still be judging her niece, Lucius clearly felt that being sorted into the house of the lions was an affront to her heritage and her association to the House of Malfoy.
Lyra merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow, the corners of her mouth turning downwards slightly. At the look, all four of the adults in the room had various looks of surprise on their faces. Dumbledore recovered quicker than the others in the room and continued the explanation for the presence of the adult Malfoys.
“The Malfoys arrived this morning wishing to meet you as they were unaware that Bellatrix even had a child.” Dumbledore’s face was calm as he explained but Lyra could tell that he was scrutinizing her just as the Malfoys were. She just didn’t know why.
Until her uncle opened his mouth.
“Everyone knew that it wasn’t a love match between Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Factor in their status as Death Eaters and her devotion to the Dark Lord… well it was quite a shock to find out that a Lestrange was starting at Hogwarts.”
Oh.
Oh.
They thought she was the child of—
Ew.
“I’m not Voldemort’s child.” Lyra stated plainly.
The reactions were instantaneous; McGonagall’s grip on her shoulder tightened for a second and her lips thinned, the Malfoys’ brows both raised – Lucius’s jaw even dropped open while Narcissa’s eyes widened at her audacity. Dumbledore’s reaction was, once again, the quickest: his eyes widened before narrowing, the calculating look back on his face clearer than before.
“I’m sure no one was implying—” Dumbledore started to say before Lyra interrupted.
Lyra raised her brows before holding out her right hand. The Lestrange heir ring gleamed brightly as the sunlight streaming through the window hit the black diamond. “I would not be able to wear this if I was Voldemort’s daughter. I wouldn’t even be able to wear it if I were blood adopted by a Lestrange. It would be line theft as there are others who were born into the family who would have more of a right to inherit – only those born into the Lestrange family can wear the heir’s ring. I am Rodolphus’s biological daughter.” Lyra stated as she put her hand back down.
Before they could recover from her use of the Dark Lord’s name for the second time, Lyra continued, “When my parents found out my mother was pregnant, my father sent her to France. I was born there, in the Lestrange ancestral home on 31 May 1980. Shortly after I was born my father made plans that should anything happen to him then I would be taken care of by one of his relatives across the Channel. When he and my mother and uncle were taken to Azkaban, I was delivered to a distant cousin of his and raised in France.”
“A distant cousin? You have plenty of family here that would have taken you in.” Narcissa stated, looking quite put out at not being considered to help raise her niece – one she had no knowledge of twenty-four hours prior to this meeting.
“Quite right. We would have been happy to raise you alongside our son.” Lucius mused, no doubt thinking about how his own standing would have increased by raising the Lestrange heir.
“Well, it’s what my father decided.” Lyra stated plainly.
“Surely your mother—”
“My mother didn’t care one way or the other. As soon as I was born, she returned to Voldemort’s side. I’m told my mother considered her pregnancy an unavoidable inconvenience. My father was the one to see to my care. He felt as the heiress to the British branch of the Lestranges that I should be raised by members of the Lestrange family and since there were none left in the UK after they went to prison…” Lyra delicately shrugged her shoulders as she finished explaining.
“You were sent to France and raised there.” Dumbledore mused. Lyra merely nodded. “You could have gone to Beauxbatons but instead chose to go to school here.”
“My tante would have preferred that but again, my father’s directives were that I attend Hogwarts.”
Dumbledore hummed at her explanation as the Malfoys shared another look. Lyra didn’t like how they looked at her. Lucius looked at her as if he were trying to figure out how she would be useful to them while Narcissa looked as if she had found something she didn’t know was lost. The Lestrange heiress didn’t want to spend another minute with them.
Looking down at the dainty gold watch on her left wrist, Lyra shifted anxiously, “Can I go now? Lunch is half over and I have to grab my books for my next class as well.”
The Malfoys looked as if they might protest but McGonagall stepped in before they could say anything.
“Of course, Miss Lestrange. I’m sure that if your aunt and uncle wish to speak with you again, they can send a letter.” McGonagall stated firmly.
Both Malfoys looked put out but Narcissa agreed that perhaps that would have to do for now. Lyra didn’t really like the sound of that but she nodded and allowed Professor McGonagall to lead her out of the headmaster’s office. The two were almost to the entrance of Gryffindor Tower when McGonagall asked her how she was feeling.
Lyra stopped and turned toward her professor.
“I don’t have to actually reply to their letters, do I?”
“No Miss Lestrange. Not if you don’t want to.”
Lyra nodded, “Good. I can’t imagine wanting to.”
To McGonagall’s credit she didn’t react other than the slightest tightening around her mouth.
“Would you all stop looking at me like I’m about to curse you!” Lyra yelled in frustration. “Yes, my parents were horrible people who did horrible things but that doesn’t mean that I’m anything like them!” Lyra shook her head, not bothering to wait for a reaction, she slammed her book shut and grabbed her school bag before angrily storming out of the common room, heading off in a random direction.
Lyra had been subjecting herself to the stares and whispers of her housemates every evening after classes ended by doing her homework in the common room. She figured that once the other lions saw her around more often, they would get used to her presence and they wouldn’t look at her like she was evil incarnate or talk about her as if she were deaf and couldn’t hear what they were saying.
Unfortunately, it was all to no avail. It was already mid-December and still they whispered and spread rumors about her.
She continued her path, aimlessly wandering around the castle. She had a few hours before curfew, so she didn’t have to worry about getting in trouble with Filch.
Lyra’s mind also wandered as she thought about the few times her cousin Draco had tried to interact with her ever since her somewhat… abrupt… meeting with her maternal aunt and uncle. The Lestrange heiress found the Malfoy heir to be quite pompous and arrogant. Plus, he was clearly a blood supremist. Lyra really had tried to give her cousin a chance, but she left every interaction with him wondering if she would have turned out like him if she had been raised by the Malfoys or worse her parents.
“Miss Lestrange!”
Lyra paused as she looked behind her to see Professor McGonagall standing in an open doorway. She quickly walked back to her head of house to see what she called her for.
“Professor McGonagall?” Lyra questioned.
“Come in for a minute Miss Lestrange and have a seat.” Lyra raised a brow and did as her professor instructed. McGonagall directed her to a sitting area where a kettle and biscuits were already laid out on a coffee table. She quickly pulled another teacup out of a side cupboard and served her tea as she preferred it.
“Thank you, professor.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Lestrange.” They were silent for a moment as they sipped their tea but then McGonagall was asking her about how she was settling in.
Lyra sighed. “I’m the daughter of two of the most hated death eaters in the entire UK. Add in that I was sorted into Gryffindor – of all houses – well… I’m genuinely surprised no one has tried to hex me yet. Then again, it could be that they’re all afraid I’ll curse them. Or retaliate or something like that.”
McGonagall listened to her words and was silent for a moment. “The moment the Sorting Hat placed you into Gryffindor, I knew that your time at Hogwarts wasn’t going to be… easy. Your parents’ reputations would work against you in the house of the lions. You would have to spend the next seven years with the whispers and rumors, trying to be seen as your own person separate from the stigma of the Lestrange name. You would wonder about the motivations of those around you and if they liked you for you or if they were afraid of who you could be. It might have been easier for you if you had been sorted into Slytherin. Your parents’ reputations alone would have assured you would have been quite comfortable in Slytherin. You might even command a higher place in the hierarchy than that of your cousin.”
Lyra raised a brow at her head of house’s assessment. Before she could comment on it, McGonagall continued. “But you were raised by a woman who, despite being a Lestrange, is not a pureblood supremacist. I’ve never met your aunt but I’m guessing she raised you not to judge people by who their ancestors were but rather by who they are as people. I see it in the way you give your full attention to those around you, be they student or professor, you let them know you’re paying attention and that you hear them. I see it in the way you make time for your cousin, shaking your head in frustration after spending five minutes with him. I also see it in the way you’re conscious of giving Neville Longbottom space. You are a considerate and compassionate young lady. I think you will do well in Gryffindor, Miss Lestrange. You just have to remember that you are as strong and as fierce as the animal that represents Gryffindor house.” McGonagall proclaimed as she took a sip from her teacup.
Lyra couldn’t help but to smile at McGonagall’s words. Her classmates may not like or trust her but that’s because they didn’t know her. The Lestrange heiress had never been more determined to change how people viewed her family name going forward. It would be a long hard road but for now, she had McGonagall’s support.
Lyra was wandering around the castle again. It was a Saturday evening and she’d already finished all her assignments about an hour ago. After dropping her things back in her dorm, Lyra had decided to stretch her legs outside of the common room. The dark-haired girl sighed as she made her way down to the second floor. Things had improved since December. People were no longer talking about her in her immediate vicinity. Lyra still got glared at and she knew people talked about her family history but they never spoke where she could hear them. Which was better. It wasn’t great but she knew that people would need more time.
Well, the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs would need more time. The Slytherins never antagonized her nor did they shun her. They weren’t overly friendly but they were respectful and… courteous. What they said about her in private, Lyra had no idea though she didn’t think that it was anything too bad considering that Draco was attempting to build a relationship with her. The Ravenclaws were mostly indifferent to her. There were some who hated her because of her parents and uncle but they didn’t do much more than glare and make snide comments as she passed. She’d gotten used to it, mostly. The thing was that it was nothing new. The comments, the rumors, the glares, and the whispers. It was all the same. It didn’t matter that three-fourths of the school were talking about her, they never had anything to say that she hadn’t heard before.
Lyra wandered along to an abandoned looking corridor. The grey-eyed girl had noticed that there were many corridors on the various floors of Hogwarts that looked abandoned. Exploration of the rooms in the corridors showed that they were old classrooms or common areas. Lyra wasn’t sure if the classrooms were abandoned because they moved them to their current locations or if the subjects that were taught in them were cancelled. She also wondered whether the other students knew about the common areas. The rooms weren’t dusty or in disrepair so clearly the house elves still cleaned them up. The furniture was old and outdated, some even from the previous century as far as she could tell. The lack of student visitors made her believe that when the classrooms were abandoned so were the common areas. Which was a shame because those common areas would be perfect for the students from different houses who wanted to hang out or study or do homework together.
Looking to her right, Lyra noticed a door marked Girls’ Lavatory.
Huh.
Lyra turned around as she got her bearings on where exactly she was. She wasn’t that far from one of the main halls which means this bathroom was quite convenient for ducking into if she needed to use the loo between classes.
So why hadn’t she known about it?
Walking into the bathroom, she could see it was still in good condition though there was some water on the floor near one of the stalls in the back. Shrugging, Lyra walked over to the sinks to fix her hair in the mirror. She nearly screamed; it was a close thing. In the mirror behind her was the ghost of a girl who looked no more than a few years older than her. She was even wearing Ravenclaw robes that were a couple decades out of date.
Whirling around, Lyra regarded the ghost girl with raised brows, “Oh my goodness! You gave me a fright!”
The ghost girl scowled and demanded, “Why because I’m so ugly?! Were you dared to see “Weeping, Moaning” Myrtle?! You’ve had your laugh, now leave!”
“No that’s not… I didn’t know anybody was in here and you just appeared behind me in the mirror! It’s not nice to sneak up on people like that.”
The ghost girl, Myrtle, tilted her head as she regarded Lyra. “You’re in my bathroom.”
“The sign on the outside of the door says, “Girls’ Lavatory.” That means that any girl can use this bathroom. It’s only fair that you share with others.”
“You look like the mean girl but you don’t act like the mean girl.”
“The mean girl?” Lyra questioned, sinking feeling in her gut. She knew Myrtle must be speaking about her mother.
“She was a Black. There were a couple of them in my year when I went to school…and in the years above and below…but the mean girl came after. She was mean to everyone. Including me. She would call me “Moaning Mudblood” and laugh at me.” Myrtle admitted, voice taking on a teary quality.
Lyra blinked slowly and shook her head. “Was her name Bellatrix?” Lyra gazed up at Myrtle as her eyes narrowed and she nodded. “Bellatrix is my mother. I’m Lyra Lestrange. She should have never done that to you. It was wrong of her. I know it can’t mean much but I’m sorry she was horrible to you.”
Myrtle was silent for a few moments as she regarded Lyra. “You act like my friend.”
“Your friend?”
Myrtle nodded, “My friend. They danced with me at Sir Nicholas’s death day party six years ago and they've always been nice to me. They graduated in June. Said good-bye to me too. Most don’t say good-bye or anything like that.”
Lyra nodded, “Your friend sounds wonderful. If you want, I wouldn’t mind visiting with you.”
Myrtle’s eyes widened before squinting at her suspiciously. “Why?”
“My parents were horrible people. People think I’m just like them even though I was a baby when they were arrested. I don’t have… any friends and it would be nice to talk to someone who knows I’m not mean like my mother.”
Myrtle looked thoughtful before nodding. “I’d like to be friends.”
Lyra smiled a rare, genuine smile. “Great! So, tell me about yourself, Myrtle.”
There was no moon this night and the torches that lined the staircase down to the common room had been extinguished earlier in the night. Even the fireplaces down in the common room itself had been doused. But not for long. Lyra couldn’t sleep. She didn’t know why but something about the way Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been acting earlier had caused the silver-eyed girl to take notice. She wasn’t sure what they were up to, but Lyra hoped that whatever it was they were doing wouldn’t cost them another hundred-and-fifty points. She didn’t think it was possible, but she didn’t want to find out if they could go into the negative.
It was so stupid though. Yeah, Harry and his friends had lost a hundred and fifty points, but Harry had more than earned that exact number of points when he caught the snitch at his first Quidditch match. And every match since then. Hermione was also one to earn Gryffindor tons of points but she had taken to keeping her head and hand down during class because of the looks and comments she would get from the other students. Again, so stupid. If they would just let Hermione earn the points without comment, they probably would have double what they lost. Or close to it.
She wrapped her robe tighter around herself and stole across the common room to one of the fireplaces. “Incendio.” Lyra muttered as an orange ball of flame came shooting out of her wand and lit the wood sitting in the fireplace on fire. Leaning back, Lyra stared into the flames as she mused on her unease. She was startled from her thoughts by the croak of a familiar toad.
“Trevor!” Lyra scolded as she whirled around to see the escape-artist toad that was constantly running away from Neville Longbottom. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?” Lyra questioned as she moved over to the armchair he was sitting on. Shaking her head, the Lestrange heiress couldn’t believe the number of times the Longbottom heir had gone looking for this toad over the course of the year. Lyra was about to scoop up the toad when she noticed a pair of slipper-clad feet on the floor behind the chair. Peering around the chair, wand back in hand, Lyra couldn’t help but gasp as she saw Neville Longbottom frozen on the floor, eyes moving wildly back and forth.
“Neville!” Kneeling at his side, Lyra clearly cast the general counter-curse with the correct hand movement. Neville quickly sat up with a harsh gasp. “Are you alright?”
Shaking his head, “I’m fine. Harry, Ron, and Hermione snuck out again.”
“Wait, they snuck out? They cast the body bind curse on you?” Lyra asked incredulously.
Neville shrugged, muttering, “I was trying to stop them but they said that they were doing something important.”
“They shouldn’t have done that.” Lyra stated firmly. “Come on,” Lyra said, holding out her hand to her fellow Gryffindor. Neville hesitated briefly before grasping her hand. “We’ve got to tell McGonagall.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Neville questioned as they made their way out of the portrait entrance.
“Maybe not, but I’ve been feeling uneasy all night. Whatever they’re doing – important or not – it’s probably dangerous.”
“Well…you’re not wrong…”
Lyra whirled around so she was facing Neville. He started at suddenly having her sole focus on him but she ignored this as she questioned him. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well… I… I heard them talking before I tried to stop them. They’re going to the forbidden corridor—”
“The one with the giant three-headed dog in it?”
Neville blinked, “How did you know about—”
“I was curious. After seeing that enormous beast, I wasn’t so curious anymore.”
Neville shook his head, “You still want to tell McGonagall?”
“We have to.” Lyra said determinedly. “It’s forbidden for a reason. They could get themselves killed. Come on.” Lyra brushed passed Neville and exited the common room through the portrait. She could hear Neville following her even with the Fat Lady demanding they return to the common room. The two first-years quickly rushed off to McGonagall’s office. Hopefully, they could get to their professor in enough time to get Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
Lyra was sitting on one of the ledges in the courtyard. It had been a curious couple of days. After waking McGonagall from her sleep and telling her about their classmates, she quickly summoned the other heads of houses and they went after the other three Gryffindors. But not before ordering Lyra and Neville to stay in McGonagall’s office. It was a long night for the two Gryffindors. Neville and Lyra were quite silent for a while. They would make a comment here and there, wondering about their classmates. Eventually McGonagall had came back to them. She informed them that their fellow lions were currently in the hospital wing but that they would be all right.
After that it was a whirlwind of events. No one really knew what happened in the forbidden corridor. So naturally the whole school knew. Or they thought they knew. What they did know was that Professor Quirrell was dead after trying to kill Harry Potter. There were rumors going around that Quirrell had been a supporter of Voldemort, out for revenge. Ron and Hermione had only been in the hospital wing for a night. Many students had tried to get the story from them when they were released but they kept quiet about everything that had gone on. Harry, on the other hand, had been in the hospital wing for three days. Whatever did happen it was clear that Harry had been injured worse than his best friends.
Just last night they had the end of term feast. In a surprising twist Gryffindor had won the house cup despite being dead last. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had each received fifty points each for stopping Quirrell. In another surprising twist both she and Neville had received twenty-five points each for standing up to their friends and alerting the professors to the danger.
Lyra didn’t know how she felt about it. While it was nice to be recognized, she would have rather received the points before the feast and not have the Slytherins have their victory stolen from them. Partially because it would have been the right thing to do and partially because she would rather not have to deal with her cousin going on about Dumbledore and Potter. Lyra had just finished telling Myrtle goodbye for the summer when she had run into Draco. He had been ranting about how Dumbledore had stolen Slytherin’s victory because of golden boy Potter. Her cousin had assured her he didn’t blame her. At least she had gotten points for telling on Potter and his friends.
Sighing, Lyra was surprised she had made it through her first year without being attacked by any of the other students. In fact, some of the Gryffindors had been a bit…warmer towards her after she had been awarded points at the end-of-year feast. Granted it had only been a night and part of the morning. The students were leaving in another hour for the summer holidays. Whether this new attitude would last or disappear next year was unknown. Considering how wishy-washy the students were towards Harry Potter…well she didn’t hold much hope for herself.
“Lestrange?”
Lyra turned in surprise to see Neville Longbottom standing there.
“Hello Neville.” Lyra responded unsure as to why Neville was seeking her out especially since he had done his novel best to avoid her at all costs throughout the year. “Anything I can do for you?” She questioned when the Longbottom heir remained silent.
“Well… err… I just wanted to say… to say thank you. For casting the counter curse. The other night when you found me. So, um, yes. Thank you, Heiress Lestrange.” Neville managed to stutter out before giving a short formal bow to Lyra.
Lyra knew that it was no small thing for Neville Longbottom to thank her – the daughter of the people who had tortured his parents into insanity – she knew she could not be so blasé in her response. The Lestrange heiress slowly stood and nodded her head. “You’re welcome, Heir Longbottom.”
Neville nodded his head once, “Right… so. I guess I’ll see you on the express. Or… um at the welcome feast.” Neville nodded his head once more before turning and walking away. He’d only gone a couple of steps when Lyra called out to him. He turned back, questioning look on his face.
“Have a good summer.”
