lyra | harry potter

twenty-two | lightning lyra

SHE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN SOMETHING WAS AMISS. The fact that she hadn't tossed and turned in attempts to fall asleep that night should have told Lyra something wasn't quite right. She'd been having trouble sleeping for weeks now, too plagued by nightmares of her parents attacking her friends. But that night, Lyra had fallen asleep so easily after reading another entry about her ability that she should have found it odd.

Instead, she found it relieving.

No nightmares tortured her that night whilst she was sleep. For it seemed that the true nightmares were waiting for her in the real world.

Some time in the middle of the night, she was jerked out of her bed by multiple pairs of hands. Lyra woke instantly, jerking wildly against the hold of three of her classmates: Crabbe, Goyle and Notte. "Let me go!" She shouted, managing to get one of her legs free and kicking Notte right in the face. He shouted in pain but didn't relinquish his hold on her, even as his nose streamed blood. "Let me go!"

"Can't do that, Burke," Goyle grunted. Despite their malicious actions, even she could see the fear in their eyes. Whether they were afraid of her or something else, though, she wasn't quite sure. 

"What are you doing?!" She cried out, thrashing in their arms as they literally carried her out of the common room and through the castle. Lyra could hear commotion growing louder the further they went, and it suddenly became clear to her that the noises she was hearing were duels. 

The castle had been breached. Death Eaters were attacking. And suddenly, it became clear what Goyle, Crabbe and Notte were doing.

Lyra screamed then, screamed as loud as she could and then bit Crabbe's hand when he tried to cover her mouth. He was wearing gloves, they all were, something they must have been warned to do because of her ability— but nevertheless he cursed and yanked his hand away, and she screamed again.

"Stupefy!" Two voices shouted simultaneously, and as Lyra was dropped to the ground she fumbled around for her wand; it was a good thing that she'd fallen asleep reading, for that meant she hadn't bothered to undress.

"Up you get," Fred said as George stupefied Notte alongside the other two, and with Fred's help Lyra was pulled to her feet.

"I'm so happy to see you two," she breathed.

"Crucio!"

Fred leaned around her small frame and cast a quick shielding charm to protect the both of them from the attack. Lyra gripped her wand and whirled around as George moved closer to them— the three of them were surrounded, of course, by Lyra's troublesome parents and uncle. A massive duel ensued then, the three younger wizards and witch struggling to keep up with the blunt malicious magic of the seasoned Death Eaters; at least until Molly and Arthur jumped into the fray. "Lyra, go!" Molly called out to the young girl, knowing she was what they were after. "Get out of here!"

She didn't want to leave them, but her desire to find Harry, Hermione, Ron and her other friends was stronger than that. Lyra took off with her eyes brimming with tears that she blinked away— she couldn't afford to have blurry vision at a time like this.

"Bill!" A feminine voice shrieked to her left. Lyra pivoted on her heels, and her gaze fell upon the sight of Bill Weasley being mauled by Fenrir Greyback. Fleur Delacour had been the woman who shouted, having tried to warn her fiance' while she dueled with two Death Eaters herself.

"Stupefy!" Lyra shouted, and unlike last time she succeeded in attacking the werewolf. He was flung off of Bill's form, and she hurried forward to check on the unconscious Weasley. She assessed his wounds and pointed her wand at them, the words to a healing spell on the tip of her tongue— but suddenly clawed hands yanked her up and tossed her as if she weighed no more than a featherweight. Greyback snarled at her and pinned her to the ground, and so quickly she could hardly process it, he'd bared his teeth at her and attempted to get a bite out of her neck.