▎AMOUR ▎
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE ━━ Home sweet Home
this is 4000+ words so buckle up
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LYRA DIDN'T PLAN TO RUN AWAY. It just happened. Right after hearing her uncle died, she decided to not appear on that day's episode and was replaced by Kingsley. Lee understood, giving her the opportunity to come the next time. The Tonks family's cozy house had turned into a space of silence.
There wasn't much to say, and what would it be? The only thing making them happy was little Teddy, who was completely oblivious as to what happened. Though later in his life, he will understand.
What happened a day later was totally out of Lyra's control. Really. She wanted to clear her head and before she could realise what she'd done, she was throwing up in the alley that led to Malfoy Manor.
Since it's apart of the school's curriculum and they can't forbid it, the sixth years were having apparation classes. Lyra couldn't take any test yet because she wasn't seventeen but Natalie already passed hers. Considering they were at the same level (for the first time ever), it didn't surprise her that she only had to throw up from travel sickness.
"I didn't even eat broccoli recently," said Lyra, feeling the aftertaste in her mouth. She wiped her mouth clean. Since I'm here already and don't know if apparating will go so smoothly, I may as well try to save Luna today. She didn't think about it twice, starting her walk up to her previous house.
Walking passed the driveway to the familiar lane gave her some unwanted nostalgia. If she decided to safe Luna later (previously planning it, obviously), Lyra would've still not thought of the memories Malfoy Manor served to her. The last time she'd been inside was on Christmas two years ago, her last with Abraxas, her ex-parents and brother.
As the gates started growing bigger, Lyra saw someone and it stopped her from walking any closer. It was Narcissa. She was just leaving the gates, face showing little emotion which was weird to see. A younger version of Lyra only remembered her lovely smile, she didn't recognise this woman at all.
Waiting for someone to open the gate certainly wasn't an option. Even so, Lyra knew a way to get inside without anyone finding out she was there.
Back when she and Draco didn't like anyone except each other, they loved playing hide and seek. The Manor's a perfect place where you could hide everywhere and Lyra, being smaller, crawled into the tiniest of places to hide and in the process found many backdoors to enter and leave the house. One, for instance led to her own bedroom. You did need to climb up the tunnel though that took less than two minutes.
Lyra wandered of, making sure even those who were coincidentally looking out of the window didn't see her around. As she was looking for the hole she had covered up those years ago, a blaring squawking noise stopped all her tracks.
One of the white peacocks the family owned came to Lyra. Without having to look if his feathers differed, she immediately knew it was Otto. He missed her, letting her pet him without any sign of objection. "I need to go, Otto. I will come back soon, I promise," she lied.
It tried following her but Lyra told him to go back. Just behind the grey bench was her not so well done camouflage. And no one noticed this? Seriously? she thought while removing the moss and dirt. When everything was gone, Lyra crawled inside. Throughout the years, the secret tunnel had started to smell. Probably because it was discovered by rats and spiders who decided they wanted to live there as well. Lyra tried not to throw up (again) as she felt a rat corpse underneath her hand while trying to climb up.
"I am so washing myself twenty times after I leave this place," she whispered, wiping her hand on her shirt in disgust. Interestingly enough, she managed to hear muffled voices speaking to each other. Sadly, Lyra didn't recognise them as the walls were too thick.
The small door that led to her room was connected to the fireplace she hadn't used in years. So, coming out meant her clothes were not only dirty from mud, rat corpses, now also from the leftover ash from a fire that went out summers ago.
Her room, however, did not look as though it had been touched (if you didn't count cleaning up to prevent dust). Still bright with small hints of her interests which haven't changed apart from a few. Sixteen year old Lyra wouldn't even dare leaving her house with a green boa.
She'd wear a black one. It was more chique and would fit with any outfit.
When she looked inside her wardrobe, there were surprisingly a few items she'd still be able to fit into and weren't completely hideous. So, Lyra wore a grey sweater (she'd received from Hermione for Christmas and had been looking for upon receiving her clothes that day) and dark, baggy blue jeans she decided to wear at the Quidditch World Cup instead of the skinnier ones.
Lyra wouldn't need shoes yet, first she needed to go to the person she would steal a pair from.
Draco.
Getting to his room was harder than Lyra thought it to be considering they were next to each other. Due to her previous sleep walking habits, it was made heavier and they clearly didn't change it once she left. With strength she miraculously managed to get out, Lyra opened the door and tiptoed to Draco's.
His door was half open. Without making any disturbing noises, Lyra stepped in and peered around. At seventeen, Draco decided to make his room look as boring as possible. At least the Slytherin posters were gone and that's a very good thing. "Thank Merlin! You got rid of those god awful posters."
Draco almost jumped off his desk-seat upon hearing her. The last time she'd seen him, he was a mess: thin, tired and sickly pale. Now, he possessed that healthy glow. Face more similar to the sneering boy she knew her whole life. Lyra hoped he stopped hurting himself but still knew that wasn't easy.
"What in the bloody hell are you doing here?" he whisper-yelled, almost falling when he closed his door. "Out of all the places you can go to, you decide Malfoy Manor?"
Lyra ignored the panic in his voice and replied calmly, "I need to find Luna. She's here and I know it."
Draco rolled his eyes, showing he did not care. "How did you sneak in?" he asked, holding her shoulders.
"Nott's invisibility spell."
He groaned. "He never stops making spells, doesn't he?"
"Natalie taught me."
"Theodore's girlfriend?"
"Technically ex-girlfriend, also not. . . A long story," she explained when his brows quirked up. "That's not the point. You need to tell me where you keep the prisoners captive." She jumped on his bed, ate one of his mint sweets and laid down, staring up the ceiling. "No way! Why do you have a star ceiling?"
"It's a distraction." He laid next to her. "They're in the dungeons."
She looked at him, face showing surprise. "The hide-and-seek dungeons?"
Draco nodded. "The hide-and-seek dungeons. It gets opened sometimes if he needs to speak with a prisoner. Most times it's Greyback or Wormtail who does it."
Lyra was surprised hearing the name again after it was refused to be spoken by any of his previous friends. "Peter Pettigrew?"
Her brother frowned. "Who?"
"Ron's rat. . .Again, a long story. Why is he responsible? Guy's weaker than you were at age six."
"First of all, rude. Second, he's got a strong metal hand."
"Where is he?"
"I dunno, probably waiting somewhere until anyone actually needs him."
"Sounds familiar," Lyra mumbled.
Draco smiled and reached for her hand. "You're mental. Sneaking out to save a friend The Dark Lord imprisoned. You are such a Gryffindor," he remarked, though he didn't sound scornful, rather amused.
"You are such a Slytherin for doing absolutely nothing."
This changed his demeanour immediately. "What am I supposed to do? Give her cookies with some milk and reassure her everything will be fine? I don't know Loony Lovegood."
"Luna," Lyra corrected, irritated. "L U N A. Did you know she's family? Grandpa and her dad are first cousins. And yes, you could've given her cookies. She likes them a lot."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Too bad I don't know how to bake. Otherwise I'd make her the ones with chocolate mum always baked for us," he said sarcastically.
"Argh, now I'm craving those. Does she still make them?"
"No. Not since you left."
Lyra huffed at the "left" part. "Since you told on me and I got disowned, you mean."
"I had to." He took a deep breath. "It was the only way we could protect you," he explained, and Lyra couldn't believe he said that.
"By throwing me on the streets? Because that's not the definition of protection."
"You don't understand. . ."
"Of course I don't!" she said, angrily pushing his hand away. "You're here telling me that you didn't allow me come out to my own parents and let them disown me to protect me! You're full of shit, Draco."
He lifted his sleeve up, dark mark showing with the scars of his cuts. Luckily, none looked recent. "You think you wouldn't have this if you still lived here? That you could weasel your way out of it? It doesn't work like that. He'd give you the mission because we both know mum and dad would be more upset if their little princess died than me."
"Stop lying."
"I'm not lying. I'm the heir, you're the daughter, Lyra. If it wasn't for the Dark Lord, you'd still live here with us. We accept you and the reason we made you think we didn't was to make sure he wouldn't harm you. That's how much dad loves you."
Lyra wanted to laugh."You don't make sense, Draco. Making someone feel like they're not loved is not how you express it!" she nearly yelled. That's when he took his wand and put a silencing spell on the room.
"Lyra, do you seriously think I didn't tell him that? You weren't sorted into Slytherin, okay, that doesn't mean that he stopped caring about you at all!"
"It's certainly how both of you acted," she countered. "Acting like I was a lost cause because I wasn't as ambitious as you—"
"Until he realised it wasn't necessary when our lives were at risk," Draco finished. "You ever wondered why you weren't allowed home that summer?" He didn't wait for her to reply and continued. "It was because he was there and father didn't want him around you."
"And I'm buddies with his biggest enemy," Lyra added, faking a smile.
"That too," said Draco. "The point is. We cared. Father cared a lot."
"Sure. Anyway, you got some shoes to spare?"
"Is that why you're here?"
"Yeah, duh. I don't want any of my shoes to get dirty and yours are ugly enough." She jumped of his bed, looking around until she found his shoe cabinet. Opening it, she found out Draco's favourite colour had become black.
She grabbed a pair of ink black loafers with a golden buckle and turned to him. "When did you get those? They look very muggle-esque, like Gucci or something." Draco snatched them from her, holding it almost too possessively.
"No, they don't. Nico gave them to me for my seventeenth birthday," he informed her and put them back.
"Nico Marcelli? As in Blaise's Italian ex-stepbrother? The person responsible for my girlfriend now knowing people call me LyLy?"
"He's only half Italian, his mum was Tunisian." Lyra rolled her eyes at Draco's know-it-all behaviour.
"You're still friends?" she asked while searching for the perfect shoes.
"We talk a lot. I realised I have a lot of time on my hands considering my friends abandoned me. He's one of the people who listens. Nico lives in Italy but their government is preparing for a possibility that he may come there. I think the people are being paranoid about nothing. He hasn't beaten Potter."
"Which will never happen," jeered Lyra, taking a pair of dark blue, beat up sneakers. Draco allowed her to take them since he did not like them anymore. When she put them on, Lyra was ready to go.
"Let's hurry before anyone gets suspicious. Dad promised to help me with an assignment." Lyra put the spell on right after Draco opened the door. To make sure he didn't loose her, she held his hand and they began to walk towards the dungeons downstairs.
Malfoy Manor's interior looked nearly the same, though Lyra felt there were so many differences. The colours were dull, halls felt empty and their richness was less flaunted with, rather it was almost hidden to appear humble and welcoming. This was, of course not the case, it just looked this way according to Lyra's recent unfamiliarity with it.
She spotted her first major difference while walking around the portrait hall. Paintings of all the previous Malfoy heirs, pale, grey eyed with white hair and sneering faces looked down on her. One by one, Lyra could name them. Well, the important ones.
Armand, the beginner of it all.
Nicholas, that lunatic who killed muggles and blamed the Black Death.
Lucius 1, the one that wanted to shag Queen Elizabeth the First.
Brutus, responsible for the fact they never lifted a finger in their lives.
Septimus, the reason why their family's has a big influence in the Ministry.
Castor, he managed to live 112 years, making him the oldest Malfoy in history.
And Abraxas, conspirer, kimchi lover, amazing grandfather and avid endorser of the Quibbler. He also kinda poisoned Nobby Leach but that's irrelevant.
Their only difference was their name and the century they were born in. Passing the most recent painting, Lyra stopped walking. That was not their family painting. She saw everyone: Lucius, Narcissa, Draco. . .They erased her from it.
She waved at the painting, forgetting Draco couldn't see her. "This isn't even rude, this is just insulting."
Draco, trying to figure out where she was, turned the wrong way and said, "You shouldn't worry. Mum put a spell on it to erase you, we didn't remove you."
"Why?"
"You're still, by law, disowned."
"Oh yeah. . . Still insulting, though."
"We should hurry," Draco insisted. Trying to grab Lyra's hand again. She, however, found amusement in the way her brother tried finding it, helplessly searching around. "Lyra, don't act like you are five. Give me your damn hand."
"You're such a killjoy," Lyra whined. Instead of holding his hand, she jumped on his back. "I'm tired of walking. I apparated here, you know. It's my first time apparating alone and I didn't even need a test. I knew I was naturally talented, Draco. Even apparating proved that."
"You talk so much. Stop it."
"I'm sorry," she apologised. "Can't control it. I promise to be quieter."
She didn't keep that promise.
Lyra conversed a lot with Draco on their way to the dungeons. Talking about her lively school days with the Carrows constantly trying to stop her mischief. She told him the story of the failed heist in great detail, taking her only opportunity to recreate the sound Natalie made in an attempt to warn the group from Thing 1 and Thing 2 approaching.
To her annoyance, Draco heard about this from none other than Kit. Luckily, this had been their first chat in years. Meaning Mulciber didn't spill her secrets the first opportunity he got. Maybe he had changed.
Passing Peter was the hardest thing to do. Not only began the rat to question why Draco was there (which he replied with by lying that Lucius worried the elderly Ollivander dropped dead after "appearing sick" the day before), his ears could hear Lyra move around the room. Draco had to lie, telling him the heels of his shoes were heavy.
Draco opened the door long enough for Lyra to get in and closed it. "Make sure I didn't do this for nothing," he whispered looking through the bars and left. When she heard him go up the stairs, Lyra took the spell of and began looking for Luna.
This proved to be easy as her friend already saw her. "Lyra? Is that you?"
"Luna? Oh my god, Luna!" Even with the lack of light, Lyra still saw her due to the light her jumper gave off. Upon some closer inspection, it appeared to be a pattern of stars which lit up on their own.
The two embraced, and the saddened look on Luna's face had brightened up once they let go. "I'm so sorry I didn't try getting here earlier, otherwise you wouldn't be here since January."
"It's okay, Lyra. I always had company," she said with a smile.
"Are there other people here?"
"There indeed are," spoke a familiar voice.
A tall, brown skinned boy came forward. "Dean!" Unlike Luna, he was tied up. Dean had also been on the run. Not because he was muggle born, the problem was that he didn't know. His father died too early for his mother to find out if he was a wizard or not.
"Wait, I can get you out." Lyra took the golden hair clip Narcissa once gave her out. "Trust me," she told Dean who she, through the minimal light could see had a questionable look on his face. She shook it until it turned into a mini blade. "It's a Black family heirloom. Said to be used during the witch trials when they cut their ropes with this to escape."
She reached out to Dean's tied hands and carefully cut them. They fell away effortlessly. "Thanks, now you gotta free them as well." Lyra hadn't noticed the small goblin and Mr. Ollivander next to him.
"Griphook the goblin?"
"So you got eyes? Good to know. Now, hurry up." Lyra huffed at the rude insult and freed both with ease. "Now that everybody's free, we need to get out of here."
"But there is no way out," Luna pointed out. "I did make an exit when I was seven, it's at the back. Hopefully it didn't close over time." Lyra put the clip back in her hair and began searching for that exit.
She made it at age seven, meaning it was hard yet easy for a little girl to find again. One thing she remembered was it being in the back, right next to a small drawing Draco made when he tried tracking it down.
Lyra touched the walls, determining the place where he drew it through the thickness of the walls. When she felt at the spot, there was no drawing anymore but that didn't matter now. She had found her exit.
Excitement rushed through her veins as she removed the stone she used to cover the hole up. And then, when she looked inside, to her surprise, it had been covered up. The inside of it was covered with cement. This appeared to be something done recently.
Had he done it?
"They found out and covered it up," Lyra announced, dissatisfied. "I did this all for nothing. Everything."
"You did take our ropes off, and we are thankful for that," spoke Mr Ollivander, smiling kindly.
"Yeah, they hurt," added Dean and Lyra grinned at that.
What no one had been paying attention to were the sounds from upstairs. Someone Lyra recognised to be Bellatrix ordered Greyback to take people to the dungeons.
"Lyra, hide," Luna whispered. "He cannot know you are here." So Lyra (for once) did what she was told and hid in the back together with the other prisoners.
Their new cell mates were thrown in and Greyback closed it immediately. When Lyra heard them, she wanted to yell, Harry and Ron! "Oh my! Are that-?" she began.
"Harry? Ron?"
"Luna? Lyra?" Harry said back.
"Yes, it's us!"
"Girls, can you help us get these ropes off?" Lyra noticed they were both tied up in the same ropes as the others.
"Wait yes, I got a hair clip. It works, I swear. Don't look at me so questionably." Which made his face change for a split second as they heard Hermione scream, and Bellatrix was screaming too, but her words were inaudible, for Ron shouted.
"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"
"Is that Bellatrix? Is she—?" Lyra did not wait for anyone to answer, the screams made it clear Hermione was getting hurt up there. She pulled the clip out, shook it and cut the ropes of quickly.
"You'll need to stay still," she told Harry. While she worked his knots free, from upstairs they heard Bellatrix's voice. "I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?"
"We found it — we found it — PLEASE!" Hermione screamed again; Ron struggled harder than ever, and the ropes they tied on Harry fell.
"Ron, stay still!" Lyra whispered. "I can't see what I'm doing —"
"My pocket!" He began frantically, as he desperately wanted to get to Hermione. "In my pocket, there's a Deluminator, and it's full of light!" There was a click, and spheres flew into the cellar: They simply hung there, flooding the underground room with light.
Lyra thanked him and began hacking at his bindings again. From above came Bellatrix's voice. "You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"
Another terrible scream —
"HERMIONE!"
"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"
"There!"
The ropes fell away, and now free, Ron began running around the cellar, looking up at the low ceiling, searching for a trapdoor and now trying to Disapparate without a wand.
"There's no way out, Ron," commented Lyra, watching his fruitless efforts. "The dungeons are designed that way. The first Lucius Malfoy made sure of that when first building them."
Hermione was screaming again.
"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"
Hermione's screams echoed off the walls upstairs, Ron was half sobbing as he pounded the walls with his fists, and Lyra saw Harry groping inside the pouch around his neck. He pulled multiple things out until, and at last, he began yelling to a mirror.
"What did you see?" Lyra quizzed, eyebrow raised in confusion.
"An eye. Dumbledore's eye." He tilted the shard of mirror this way and that, seemingly saw nothing reflected there, upstairs Hermione was screaming worse than ever, and Ron kept bellowing her name.
"How did you get into my vault?" they heard Bellatrix scream. "Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"
"We only met him tonight!" Hermione sobbed. "We've never been inside your vault. . . . It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"
Lyra knew a bewildered look was drawn onto her aunts face, unable to believe she could tell her that. "A copy?" screeched Bellatrix. "Oh, a likely story!"
"But we can find out easily!" came Lucius's voice. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!" This man is such a liar, Lyra thought amusedly. He could do that himself with ease.
Harry dashed across the cellar to where Griphook was huddled on the floor. "Griphook," he whispered into the goblin's pointed ear, "you must tell them that sword's a fake, they mustn't know it's the real one, Griphook, please —"
Lyra heard someone scuttling down the steps; next moment, Draco's shaking voice spoke from behind the door. "Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!"
Lyra tried so hard trying to stay composed, ultimately having Harry cover her mouth when she was about to laugh. Draco wouldn't hurt a person psychically, that is why he had Vince and Greg doing it for him.
Still, they did as they were bidden; as the lock turned, Ron clicked the Deluminator and the lights whisked back into his pocket. The door flew open; Draco marched inside, wand held out in front of him.
If this was a different situation, he'd show visible annoyance at Lyra still being there. She explained why, using sign language (one thing the siblings learned because they were bored). Draco seized the goblin by the arm and backed out again, dragging Griphook with him. The door slammed shut and at the same moment a loud crack echoed inside the cellar.
"What did you do?"
"I told him why I'm still here. You see, there's an exit I made when I was like seven but it closed off. The problem is, the only way you can open it is with a Bombarda. And as you know, you can't use magic here."
Ron clicked the Deluminator. Three balls of light flew back into the air from his pocket, revealing Dobby the house-elf, who had just Apparated. "DOB — !" Harry hit Ron on the arm to stop him shouting. Footsteps crossed the ceiling overhead: Draco marching Griphook to Bellatrix.
Dobby's enormous eyes were wide; he was trembling from his feet to the tips of his ears. He was back in the home of his old masters, it was clear that he was petrified. Lyra had felt the same way.
"Harry Potter," he squeaked in the tiniest quiver of a voice, "Dobby has come to rescue you."
"But how did you — ?"
An awful scream drowned Harry's words: Hermione was being tortured again. He cut to the essentials.
"You can Disapparate out of this cellar?" he asked Dobby, who nodded, his ears flapping.
"And you can take humans with you?" Dobby nodded again.
"Right. Dobby, I want you to grab Lyra, Luna, Dean, and Mr. Ollivander, and take them — take them to —"
"Bill and Fleur's," said Ron. "Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth!"
The elf nodded for a third time.
"And then come back. Can you do that, Dobby?"
"Of course, Harry Potter," he whispered and hurried over to Mr. Ollivander. Dobby took one of the wandmaker's hands in his own, then held out his other to the students, none of them moved.
"Harry, we want to help you!" Luna whispered.
"We can't leave you here," said Dean.
"I'm staying," protested Lyra.
"Lyra, do you want to die? No way you're staying."
"I apparated and walked around this house unnoticed. You are not letting me leave."
"You apparated here? Do the Tonks's and Lupin know that?"
"No," Lyra mumbled. "It kinda happened and I figured, I'm here already so I got the chance to save Luna."
"That's very sweet of you, Lyra," Luna piped up.
"Yeah, very sweet. Doesn't excuse anything. Hold Dobby's hand."
"But Harry—"
"Go, all of you!" he interrupted. "We'll see you at Bill and Fleur's."
"Go!" Harry beseeched Lyra specifically. "Go! We'll follow, just go!" They caught hold of the elf's outstretched fingers. There was a loud crack, and they vanished.
ᗩᑌTᕼOᖇᔕ ᑎOTᗴ:
1. dobby doesn't die. idgaf joanne
2. too lazy to write the rest.
3. i got one more thing to say. i'm planning one writing one chapter, then battle of hogwarts which'll most likely be two parts, then another chapter (i've had parts of a malfoy + weasley family dinner written in my notes since i started writing this story), and the epilogue.
which means i'll be writing 5 more chapters... damn.