''I'M SICK OF THIS HOUSE! YOU LET ME GO!'' Lyra snarled at them venomously, hoping to get at least maybe response.
''Really? Then you must know how Sirius felt.'' Moody answered.
She shot him an angry glare and turned to the other side of room, where most of portraits were. They were amusing, these portraits. They all had the habit of noting the presence of muggle-borns and half-breeds, and only Lyra seemed to be able to calm them down. It was a nice little revenge, for she wouldn't calm them down because she knew they could be very irritable.
The headquarters. That's how they called it. Lyra was sick of this house — and not metaphorically. She despised it; she despised everything about it — the forever Victorian look of it, the people in it and the constant reminder how she had the exact atmosphere in Manor.
''You haven't healed yet, dear.'' answered Molly Weasley kindly, but her eyes told a different story; there was confusion and fear.
''I can heal my rib perfectly fine.'' Lyra snapped back. She knew she had been acting like a brat, but at the moment she couldn't care less — she wanted her wand back and she wanted to go home, to her mother who could definitely heal better than Molly Weasley.
''How about you tell us how you got there?'' Lupin suggested carefully, like he was afraid of Lyra's another tantrum.
''And you will let me go home? With my wand?'' she asked, narrowing her eyes and placing herself in a more comfortable position. Her waist hurt like hell, she couldn't walk properly and she had a concussion (and quite bad one since she had migraines since she woke up), but she wouldn't dare admit it; there were people who just waited for opportunity to say Told you so.
Lupin kept quiet. And so did the others.
''You corrupted liars.'' she scoffed and turned back to examining the portraits, as in the corner of her eye Ron and his father exchanged looks.
''Listen, Lestrange, we have a plan.'' Moody started. ''That involves you.''
''And what makes you think I will agree to it?''
''God, why are you so stubborn?'' he asked, irritated at the thought that he had to bother himself with devil like she was. She wasn't exactly giving them the time of their lives; she refused to eat, she refused to change out of her torn cloak, she refused communication, she refused medicaments and potions - she refused practically everything.
''You teach Harry Occlumency for some while and we will let you go.''
Lyra whirled around wildly. This was. . . actually a good proposal. A proposal she wouldn't agree soon — because if they were going to play a game, they were going to play by her rules. It was true, she was the most stubborn person she knew, and that appeared to be good when she wanted something.
''You're lying.'' Lyra argued back, and for some reason Moody was unreadable to her. Lyra was quite good at Legilimency, but she couldn't get him right.
''Leave my mind alone.'' he answered, and a smug look on his face appeared as soon as he saw her furious frown. Who wouldn't be furious? ''Occlumency is taught when you're an Auror.''
''And Legilimency when you're a Lestrange.'' she barked at him. ''That doesn't stop me from reading your friends' minds.''
It was her turn to smile smugly. The man growled something in disbelief and Lyra focused on mind of Remus Lupin. But to Lyra's disappointment, the man was stricken with grief and she didn't want to intrude anymore; it was her mother, after all, who killed his childhood best friend.
They were quiet for some time. Lyra enjoyed it as she came to conclusion few days ago that in this house was never quiet. She didn't really know what to think about these people; there was Lupin, her ex professor and he was nice to her. Then there were Molly and Arthur Weasley who helped her patch up and get food and they were lovely people, although Lyra wouldn't admit it.
There were people constantly passing through and Lyra could sometimes recognize voices; for example, Snape arrived yesterday alongside with the rest of Weasley children. From what she heard, Hermione was still in hospital due to Dolohov's curse and Harry didn't want to see any bit of this place.
And Sirius Black was dead. He was killed by her mother. To be honest with herself, Lyra wasn't really surprised when she heard that; she kind of expected it - she expected him dead on the hands of Bellatrix.
There was a question that snapped her attention back to people sitting in front of her. A question Molly Weasley apparently didn't even know she asked; she was just curious, Lyra guessed.
''Are you really dating my son?'' she asked, somewhat eagerly as if she held that question too long. Lyra shot her a weird look — she liked the woman, but she didn't like straight-forward questions.
''I don't know what I'm doing with your son, Mrs. Weasley.'' she replied, and forced her lips to twitch upwards. The plump woman didn't gave any response, but a sad smile. It made her relax, for she knew that now at least she would deal with one hateful face less.
''You're most likely breaking his heart.'' Ron sighed and Lyra didn't expect him to be so calm about their relationship, if she could even call it that. She hadn't talked to him since the twins made their departure and since she found herself in a mess of this. Alright, she did get few letters but she simply didn't have time to answer back because of NEWTs. Lyra was already exhausted enough.
''That's enough, Ron.'' she said to him sharply, but it seemed normal for him because he just shrugged, stretched and set off somewhere upstairs. ''How about you go rest? I'll bring you supper.''
Lyra shook her head no and the woman stayed put in her seat, surprised at the answer.
''You asked me how I got there. I suppose if you gave me some information, I should give you too.''
That intrigued them, because Lupin shifted in his place as soon as he heard her answer and Moody stopped fidgeting with the lost strand of sofa he was sitting on.
''I was in my dorm alone, studying for Herbology NEWT. Ruelle and Katherine were in the common room and since our dorm isn't quite close to the stairs that lead up, nothing could be heard from upstairs.'' she sighed and decided to give a shorter version. ''Someone came up to me from behind and bashed me on head with something. I passed out. Next thing I know I'm at my Manor apparating to Ministry.''
''And you don't know who that was?'' Lupin asked.
''If I knew, I wouldn't be here.'' she snapped back and stood up hastily, straightening her shirt in the process. ''When will I get my wand?''
''Two days after tomorrow. Good night, Lyra.'' he replied and smiled timidly. Lyra glowered and set off towards her room. As soon as she closed the door to living room, the chatter and their voices continued like they never had her in house.
Usually, she'd be tempted to eavesdrop, but now? No, thank you.
These days she had no strength nor will to listen to their conversations about what should they do with her and how should they treat her. At least, in this house she had the right to voice her opinion, for she remembered her father's horrid gaze when she disagreed with their point of view. Lyra simply couldn't come to terms with yet another elf in their house; they already had four of them.
Lyra travelled through hallway that led her upstairs; it was decorated with gothic designs and portraits that greeted her kindly as she passed by.
She was completely smitten by the former headmaster of Hogwarts who boasted about the proud Slytherins in their family and the reputation they achieved; it gave her the feeling that he did not quite know of the Black family's connections with Voldemort. Lyra chuckled at him and the figure laughed along with her, as something flickered in his eyes. He was friendly to her, but looked quite arrogant; the trait that seemed to be alive in her family long before her great-grandfather.
And as Lyra chuckled at his bragging, there was an unmistakably recognizable voice behind her saying ''Oh, hello.'' with a lot of sarcastic notes in his voice. Phineas Nigellus suddenly vanished.
Lyra turned around, frozen as the corners of her mouth were still twitched up lightly — for her, time disappeared. She didn't even know how much she actually missed him, until she saw him.
There he stood in front of her, casually leaning on doorway as if all the worries of this world never even existed at first place; as though the Second Wizarding War wasn't coming.
''So. . .'' Fred said, letting his fiery hair fall in his eyes from ruffling.
It was something frightening about him that moment; the way he spoke calmly, yet there was a raging storm in his eyes, the way his arms were crossed, but his fingers twitched nervously, the way his jaw was tense and eyes narrowed, but not in an angry kind of way — in an almost disappointed one.
''Heard that you became a Death Eater. Very ambitious.''