The Prophecy in the Dust ( Harry Potter Love Story)

Chapter twelve: Rainy days and Quidditch blues

Lyra pushed her porridge around nervously. The weather out side was not looking good, and she always did feel queasy before every match since last year when she got her rib broken because of a rouge bludger. Nevertheless, she would always push on through her nerves and was determined to play a good game. She took this moment to distract herself with a letter Cygnus had dropped off this morning in her sisters hand writing.

Dear Ly,

Long time no talk little sis, we're missing you over here!!

You're gonna smash it in this quidditch match I know it, well you always do freckles! Remember clear your head!! Dad says good luck too, he's been meaning to write you a letter but he's got a lot on with work at the moment, I swear he's been counting down the days till the Christmas holidays haha.

By the way I've had to convince mum not to pull you from Hogwarts because of that hole mass murder thing trying to break into your dorms, so thank me later. But if you die because of said mass murder don't thank me, in fact mum will probably be reuniting us SO PLEASE DONT DIE:)

Love you lots little sis,
From Dora

P.s Mum wants me to remind you to keep your scar covered!!!

Lyra smiled to herself as she instinctively tugged down her shirt. Dora always did know a way to make her smile in times of need. She as well couldn't wait to see her parents and sister again ( especially her dad, she always was a daddy's girl).

" Good luck Lyra." A girl with a calm voice spoke, snapping her out of day dream about Christmas with her family. Lyra immediately looked up and smiled apprehensively. A pale girl with long black silky hair that was tied up in a neat ponytail with a emerald ribbon looked back at her unblinkingly. Her dark eyes with light flicks of hazel starred back at Lyra's grey ones, and her thin pink lips mimicked the same smile back. She was beautiful no doubt she was, but she had an aura about her that seemed to intimidate and scare others just by looking in their direction.

Everyone in Lyra's year ( and some others) had an unspoken understanding, that this girl was someone you didn't want to be associated with, with no reason at all. Everyone except the Slytherins however, that welcomed her with open arms but she always did seem like an outsider no matter where she went.

" Oh thanks Lilith!" Lyra gave the girl another smile, and with that she hurried back to the Slytherin table and sat closely to a handsome dark skinned boy with high cheekbones.

" Do you think she knows that we know?" Harry said, moving away from conversing with Oliver Wood and sat down gently next to Lyra.

" I don't know," Lyra replied, still looking over at the Slytherin table " Do you think she'd still talk to me if she did?"

" To keep tabs, maybe." Harry clenched his jaw, conversations around Lilith Riddle since they left the chamber of secrets always did make him tense nowadays. Understandably so, her father was his parents murderer. It was only a matter of time before the secret would finally be exposed. That Lilith Riddle was Voldemort's ( Aka Tom Riddle's) daughter. But Lyra refused to be the catalyst that set it off.

Lilith was a nice girl, nicer than any of the Slytherins were to her and her friends. She was polite and shared and never was involved with the pointless arguments and back handed comments between both houses. Although her friend choices were questionable, with; Pansy pug face, Tweedledum and tweedle dee, and Mr purple shampoo. But that was no reason to unravel the secret that she held so close to her chest.

ϟ 9¾ ⚯͛

The weather was unbearable as the Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs walked across the quidditch pitch the meet in the middle. The captains then shook hands and for the first time Lyra was able to get a good look at Cedric to see what all the fuss was about ( well as good of a look she would get in the weather). Angelina and Katie were not over exaggerating . At. All. Even though everyone had their goggles on Lyra could still see how attractive this boy was, even his hair looked good being tossed about with the wind.