The Disgraced of the House of Black - A Multi-Character Fanfiction - Part One

86. Family Ties

"Pardon me," a voice called.

Lyra turned, pausing in her walk back to the Beauxbatons carriage. She was facing a young boy, most likely around the same age as Harry Potter. Lyra instantly decided there was something about him she did not like, but whether it was the snide, commanding expression on his face or the entitled way he demanded her time, she couldn't be sure.

"Yes?" she replied cordially.

"Are you Lyrielle?" he asked.

"Lyralle," she corrected. "But to you, I am Professor Lyralle."

"Does that change if I tell you my father is Lucius Malfoy?" he retorted.

Instantly, Lyra's cheeks paled to a shade so ghostly Draco thought she was going to faint.

"Tell your father to stay away from me," she snapped, her gentle face instantly shifting to one of such sharpness, she was already gone when Draco found his words again.

Turning, he was surprised to find four people watching him. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Althea each were giving him confused and surprised looks. Ignoring them, he disappeared into the castle.

"What was that about?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Maybe she hates Malfoy as much as we do?" Ron suggested.

"Maybe," Althea said doubtfully. "She seemed more scared of him than anything, though."

Shrugging, Ron led the rest of the way to Hagrid's.

.

"Seriously?" Sirius said in shock after listening to Amara's account. "I'd completely forgotten about her."

"After you ran away, her parents shipped her off to France," Amara explained. "She's never even set foot in England since."

"Until now," Sirius clarified. Running a hand through his hair, he said, "We need to warn Harry. She could be on Voldemort's side of things. Maybe Pettigrew told her Harry's my godson, thought she'd get revenge on me or something for what happened."

"We'll tell him the truth," Amara agreed. "But we should wait until he can meet us in person. It's too much to explain in a letter."

"I'll write to him," Sirius agreed.

.

"Hope it's Angelina," Fred said as Althea sat down with her friends, each waiting to discover who the Triwizard Champions were.

"So do I!" Hermione agreed. "Well, we'll soon know!"

The feast seemed to be passing incredibly slowly, but Althea soon occupied herself by watching the foreign teachers at the staff table. Karkaroff was incredibly boring and only ever talked to Dumbledore or Snape, but Madame Maxime and Professor Lyralle Charlotte were most interesting. In honour of the occasion, Professor Lyralle had donned a dress that seemed to replicate a fire itself.

Ripples of red, orange, white, and yellow silk cascaded from her shoulders, draping her in what appeared to be flames. She had tied her hair up in a high bun with only a few short pieces out, falling in elegant curls toward her pink lips.

She was talking softly with Madame Maxime, both occasionally casting glances toward the goblet with interest, as though expecting it to announce a name at any moment. She was without a doubt one of the most beautiful women Althea had ever seen in her life, but it was a delicate beauty so uniquely her own that she seemed rather more like something to be observed rather than interacted with, like a painting or a photograph of a particularly beautiful landscape. Althea thought she would be shy to talk to a woman like that, but as she saw her suddenly smile before letting out a musical laugh, Althea changed her mind. She would be most interested in what Professor Lyralle would have to say.

Standing, Dumbledore said, "Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber where they will be receiving their first instructions."

"Any second," Lee said, staring intently at the goblet.

The flames suddenly turned red and sparks began to fly. Next moment, a tongue of fire sprang from the cup and a piece of parchment appeared.

"The champion for Durmstrang," Dumbledore said, "will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" Ron called over the applause.

"Bravo, Viktor!" Karkaroff boomed. "Knew you had it in you!"

When the boom of applause had faded, a second tongue of fire spat out another slip of parchment.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," Dumbledore read. Althea saw Madame Maxime and Professor Lyralle grip each other's hands, but while Madame Maxime looked excited, Professor Lyralle looked terrified. "Is Fleur Delacour!"

A radiant smile spread across Lyralle's face as she actually rose to her feet to embrace Fleur as she passed. Once she had returned to her seat and the applause faded, Dumbledore caught another slip of parchment.

"The Hogwarts Champion," Dumbledore called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

The total uproar from the Hufflepuff table was deafening. Eliana couldn't help but smile. Hufflepuff didn't get much glory. Amara was one of the last to bring them any.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called excitedly when the noise had finally settled enough to allow him to speak, "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real-"

Althea frowned, suddenly noticing the thing Dumbledore had. The Goblet of Fire was still flaming red. A fourth slip of parchment shot out of the Goblet. Dumbledore instantly reached out to catch it. Holding it out, Dumbledore stared at the piece of paper, suddenly looking a little paler than before.

Clearing his throat, he finally read, "Harry Potter."

Instantly, Althea gasped, clapping both hands over her mouth in shock as she met Harry's gaze. He looked just as confused and terrified as Althea felt.