30Author's note :
Here is the new chapter 1 of this story, I wrote it again and changed all the things I thought wre necessary and I hope that you will like this new life I've given this story. You will most likely be able to read Chapter 2 next week if I keep up the good work and hope that you will enjoy the story.
I won't keep you waiting any longer.
Chapter 1 : The Dursley's legacy
The 31st of October of 1981 was a morbid but joyous date for everyone in the english wizarding community because of the fall of the most powerful Dark Lord in history to a young baby girl named Lyria Lily Potter. Daughter of James and Lily Potter, and last heir to the Potter family, she initially had everything to succeed in life. Born in a wealthy and loving family with very intelligent, brave, passionate, gentle and good looking parents, her future could only be a very brightful one.
However this very night, where the war between the Dark Lord's forces and the Ministry of Wizard England along with the citizens, came to an end, her life was thrown into the darkest and most perilous life one could wish to avoid at all cost.
Yet, here she was crying in her little crib on the first floor of the torn apart little mansion in Godric's Hollow where she and her parents were hiding. This was before a believed friend of her parents betrayed them and showed the hideout to his master causing their deaths. This was the main reason for her situation, this was why she was crying despite not understanding the situation she was in because of her young age.
It was at this moment where everything changed for her, this was at this moment that her destiny would be sealed for ever. She was laying there inside her crib next to the blown up body of her mother that had been killed by the Dark Lord that used the bombarda spell. Her body was torn apart and her blood was flowing everywhere it could reach on the floor, some staining the sheets of her daughter's baby bed. While crying, Lyria sucked on her fingers distraught and terrified, her mouth entering in contact with the blood of her mother.
At this very moment her body began to glow a sick crimson red and her skin to grow paler and paler after each seconds that passed until the moment when it suddenly stopped for no reason and she fell asleep peacefully. This was just now that Hagrid entered with a devastated and horrified look on his face at the sight of the dismembered corpse of James Potter at the feet of the stairs and now the torned body of Lily Potter. His only source of relief was that there was at least one survivor and that the Dark Lord had visibly vanished into oblivion judging by the fact that only his clothes remained on the floor along with his wand a clear indication of his disappearance, not being one to go nude outside and let his wand behind him.
After making sure that the baby girl was all right and sound asleep he came back outside and saw Sirius Black waiting inside the house crying himself to death near the corpse of his late best friend and all but blood brother. When he saw Hagrid coming with his goddaughter, he snapped out of his mourning state and swiped his tears away, a look of pure hatred and determination in his eyes before he addressed Hagrid.
"I'm going to make him pay for what he did to them… He will beg me for my forgiveness before I kill him the way he killed them… Take my motorbike and bring her to safety, to Dumbledore while I take care of everything… I'll come back to make sure she is okay in a few hours after I finish my business with him.
"Uhm … Well ya know what to do and not to do Sirius… Don't worry about the girl. I'll bring her to professor Dumbledore this instant" Responded Hagrid before climbing on the motorbike and ascending to the sky while Black changed into a strong black dog and ran away in the forest.
Hours later, Surrey, Little Whinging, Privet Drive, n°4.
After hours of flying above England, Hagrid landed loudly on the street but strangely enough did not wake anyone in this all so normal muggle agglomeration. All the lights were turned off and the street was now as quiet as a cemetery, making Hagrid a little cautious.
When he was about to call for his benefactor, the old man showed himself from a bench behind the bushes. His eyes were sad and he had never seemed so old than at the moment his eyes looked at the small child in Hagrid's arms.
Alongside him appeared from her cat form professor McGonagall, that gracefully changed back into a human. She looked like she had cried, whether it was from joy or sadness he did not know. Her eyes were puffy and red, her skin seemed to be paler than usual. Her face seemed to lighten a little bit at seeing Lyria Potter.
"Well Hagrid… Was the trip safe and calm ?" Asked the Headmaster .
"Everything was fine, the little girl fell asleep when I arrived there" Explained Hagrid while passing the Potter heiress to the Headmaster. "I think she looks relatively fine except for the scar on her collarbone and her pale skin."
"Yes you're right, it might be an after effect of surviving the killing curse… But I can't be sure because it never happened before… I will think about it but for now it would be wise to let her in the care of her only family" Said the old man pensievely while looking at the aquarius-like scar going from one shoulder to the other.
"No Albus ! I told you everything I saw about those people, they will be a disastrous family for her… They are nothing like us, they hate everything that is even slightly different or magic related !" Exclaimed Minerva under the tired look of her old mentor.
"I heard all of what you said to me… Yet it is the only solution, to hide in the muggle world waiting for the time where the Death Eater will be stopped is the best action for her safety… I know it won't be a loving household but they are human beings and even if they don't act with her like family she will at least have a secured shelter, food, water and an exterior influence to balance her immense fame" Explained calmly sighing Albus Dumbledore.
"Yes but …" Started once again McGonagall before being stopped by the stern look of an errinted powerful wizard.
"What other option do you propose instead of this one then Minerva… I asked you a question" He continued after she stayed aghast for a minute searching for a better solution including the safety and love of the young girl. "Well it seems that you don't have a better solution so we will proceed as I said but if you want me to, I'll place sensor spells on the house to assure myself of her well being and I will act upon those if needed."
"Uhm… Fine… You're right Albus and please do so." Acquiesced the cat woman while Albus placed the child under the doorway of n°4, before he placed a letter on her, finally revealing the Elder Wand and firing some sensor spells on the last Potter.
"You know Minerva… I too, only have her best interest in mind even if you think otherwise… I never had the chance of having children myself but the Potter were to me like a second family, Charlus Potter the great grandfather of James was a childhood friend of mine and a brilliant man from a loving and powerful family, when he and two of his sons died during the war against Grindelwald, I made a promise to myself to protect the last heirs of his bloodline in respect of his memory… I already felt like I betrayed this promise when Fleamont died at the beginning of the war… And I feel like I betrayed it tonight as well with the death of James… If something happened to young Lyria, I wouldn't be able to look at myself in a mirror for the rest of my life." Told her the one hundred and twenty years old Headmaster.
"I'm sorry Albus… I knew the Potter were good friends of yours… I shouldn't have made you remember those painful memories" Apologised the transfiguration mistress while Hagrid felt all the more respect for his old mentor.
"It's nothing Minerva… I'm glad that the well-being of young miss Potter is the first thing that is on your mind and not to party all around England to celebrate the death of Voldemort… However, it seems like our presence here is not required anymore."
And just like that they were gone and all the night lights in the street turned on like nothing happened. At this very moment a woman awoke at the first floor of the number 4, like on autopilot, went downstairs and opened the door before her eyes regained a sense of life and she realised where she was, standing in her doorway looking at the floor where was a baby girl draped in expensive and refined tissues with a letter on top of her.
"What is the meaning of this… Why would there be a baby on at the front of my house at this hour… And this letter, this handwriting, this ink… Why would this crazy and horrendous old man dispose of a child with a letter on MY doorway !?" Thought Petunia Dursley while eyeing carefully the baby and the letter unsure of what to do.
After what felt like an hour, she decided that she could not let her outside or the neighbors would soon see her and start gossiping about why Petunia Dursley had a child out on her doorway at this hour.
Thus she reluctantly took the child in her arms and touched her forehead to see her face. She shrieked when her skin came in contact with the girl's skin because it was colder than anything she had ever touched on her life and also because of the warm glowing emerald green orb that had just opened and stared at her. The high intonated sound had woken up her husband and he started asking if she was alright.
"I'm fine honey… But please can you come here… We have a major problem that just fell upon us like a curse !" She said desperately, trying to find a way to announce the arrival of this little girl in their household. Then she looked back at the letter and thought that maybe this would be a clue.
While Vernon Dursley was coming heavily downstairs, she placed the child in the armchair of the living room and read the letter in which Dumbledore described in every detail what happened in the past two years and this night, then how he expected her family to take good care of the daughter of her sister.
When Vernon arrived and saw the look of pure horror on his wife's face, he came by her side and read the letter once then his gaze leveled up to set upon the girl in his armchair his face contorted in a disgusted frown and his body was sparked by a wave of hatred at her sight.
"Oh how much did he hated those abnormal, disgusting and dangerous freaks ?" Thought Vernon before he addressed once again to his wife.
"I will not take care of this little freak nor will I spend even a single penny to nourish her… Am I clear Petunia ?" He asked furiously red and boiling on the inside.
"Clear as water honey… Don't worry about it… There is a bill with the letter that will compensate for everything we will have to buy her in the future."
"There is money with this freak ?! Well that's rich ! They think they can buy us to take care of her like babysitters ! This will not happen ! This money will be in our account tomorrow at the first hour and this will pay as compensation for her resting under our roof but nothing more!" Screamed outraged the Dursley patriarch while taking the money in front of his horrified wife, and going back to bed.
Petunia hated her sister for everything she had that Petunia did not possess, however she couldn't bear what she just withstanded here. That her husband would let an innocent and orphan little girl die without any remorse if he could help it repulsed her and made her hairs go up on her head. Despite all the hate she had for her sister and her sister's husband, she could not abandon family or treat family like a disposable being. She may very well be unable to love her, but she was more than able to care for her and look after her.
She approached the little girl carefully and took her in her arms. She seemed so calm and so sweet with her round and joyous features, her skin looked immaculate like porcelain, her hairs were silky and raven black feeling like clear water when she passed her fingers through them. What truly caught Petunia's attention was that her eyes were even more beautiful than Lily's ones, the most beautiful she thought she would have the chance to see in her whole life.
She was so much alike to her sister when she looked at her more carefully, her perfect forehead, her eyes, her red and small lips, her already drawn eyebrows and her long eyelashes. However she also saw her noble heritage from her father's side with high cheekbones, a perfect and fine nose and a little perfect chin. The mixing of her parents was perfect and Petunia could not stop staring at her niece but when she came to touch her cheek once again she felt for the second time her coldness and came to the conclusion that the baby really needed a good hot bath.
So she proceeded as such and made a bath, telling Vernon that she needed to take one, to ease him and stop him from preventing her from giving the freezing baby a bath. Once the bath was ready she quietly bathed the little girl and enjoyed the pleasure of having a baby girl to take care of.
She always wanted to have a girl, of course she was happy to have her duddykins, but having a daughter was different like she was able to give her everything she never had when being herself a little girl. She saw with pain in her eyes the glowing red scar that went from a shoulder to another on her collarbone and frown remembering how it appeared. After this she quickly finished to bath her and put her in the same clothes as before not having any for her at the moment.
When she put the girl into an improvised crib in the living room a wave of sorrow and hate washed over her as she saw the little girl falling asleep.
"How can I love this child that is the offspring of the sister I hated for my whole life and her abnormal husband… This is maybe another of those freaks' spells… Maybe not… In the end, I need to stay vigilant and make a clear separation between her and Dudley or this will be anarchy here." Thought the afraid and panicked women while going back to her bed and falling asleep.
It was quite interesting to see that when afraid of death or when facing something that they did not understand at all, people would have the most destructive or silly reaction. This fear of the wizard kind that plagued the mind of Vernon Dursley would not be of good omen for the future of Lyria Potter. Would Petunia's watchful eyes be able to prevent her niece from a childhood of misery and hardships, or will she be an active actor in her demise ?
Seven years later
Lyria Potter, the dream daughter of all parents, the perfect student that never had anything but a perfect score in each subject at school that was the trophy of the teachers, was actually being bullied by her whale of a cousin in a street behind the school. Not being as dumb as everyone thought he was, Dudley Dursley quickly understood that with her reputation and her good looks his cousin would not be someone to mess with at school if he wanted to avoid problems.
However he also came with another plan in mind to make her pay for her 'bossiness', her 'Miss Perfect' little persona. He had taken the habit of doing this outside their home because his mother wouldn't let him do so or do it at school because of the teacher, he just had to do it on the way home. This little plan as simple as it was, worked wonderfully and there wasn't a day where he couldn't treat her like the freak she was if he wanted to. Each time he decided to put her back in her place, he would ensure to let some visible marks on her clothes or skin to remember how inferior she was to him. He would never go farther than a slap or two to bruise her cheekbones or deteriorate her clothes to see how she would deal with it when explaining to his father her state of dress. She did not deserve to live under the same roof as him and she should have died with her parents in the car crash like the drunken bunch of freaks they were, that's what his father had always told him, so it was meant to be true.
Most days they would just ignore her and completely forget that she existed and was part of the same household as them, but some days, when his father's drinking was a tad bit more pronounced, he would take out all his pent up frustration from work on her. All he did however, had never been done when Petunia was still among them, despite her hatred for the girl, she had refused to see her be treated like a punching bag, as it would make them no better than her kind of freak. That was what she always told Dudley, and he did not dare anger his mother for he much prefered to be spoiled to death instead of being forbidden ice cream and chocolate for a whole week !
How many days did she have to fight the painful hunger in her cupboards under the stairs, or how many days did she have to spend under the burning sunlight taking care of the whole garden even when they knew her skin could not support a long exposure to the sunray's. How many days did she have to live through were she could not see the daylight because of a punishment with a fallacious excuse from her cousin. How many days did she suffer the quick yet intense beatings of her drunken uncle that constantly repeated to her that she was a freak and that had done nothing but giving them more troubles than necessary. Somedays, she believed him, believed that she was a hindrance for them and that she was being ungrateful for their generosity and that she deserved it. But most days she just cried herself to sleep craving for a hug and kind words to tell her that despite all the hardship that came with taking care of her, she was worth it.
Yet here she was lying on the dirty floor of the dark street with Dudley washing the bottom of his shoes on her uniform's skirt, making it all dirty, meaning that she would be getting a shouting and a backhand slap from uncle Vernon, again. After that she would have to apologise to Dudley for whatever story he gave to Vernon explaining how she was bad to him today and then she would get grounded in her cupboard with no food until tomorrow lunch at the cantina of the school. She was getting used to the pattern…
This situation started when she was five, the day her aunt died because of an unknown illness. This day, her uncle's drinking habit exploded tenfold and if most times he was too busy with work or too wasted at home to care about her, some evenings, he would beat her once or twice, just to be able to see the results of his backhand colliding with her face. Sometimes though, mostly near the anniversary of her aunt's death, he would unleash his misery on her like she was the source of all his problems and failures. The only wall that existed between her and her uncle's tantrums was her aunt, so the day she died, her whole world began to slowly but surely become less and less secure at home and outside too. She began to encounter a number of strange people that went on their way in the streets or at the grocery store, to greet her and thank her for something that she did not know. Some of them however, were glaring at her with so much hatred that her blood was freezing in her veins at their sights, often making her run home way less afraid of uncle Vernon than these strange men and women wearing very expansive and old school clothes.
However today was not one of those days she called blessings. Today she stayed at school the longer she could to avoid Dudley but he had waited for her an entire hour just to be able to humiliate her and maybe slap her once or twice on the way back home. Then he left her there where she was crying softly, tired of being a toy with which he messed with whenever he was bored, or in this case, sad and angry. She knew that she would be home late because of this, and on top of that, she would come back with a skirt with a part torn up and so dirty that her uncle would have to buy her another one to avoid having to explain the state of her uniform. She was in for a rough night if her uncle was awake when she came home. She braced herself, whipped her tears off her face and ran home as fast as she could.
Today was the day her parents died seven years ago, today was the day her aunt died two years ago and today would be the day she would most probably get another of these rare but memorable beatings, if the look that distorted her uncle's face was a sign of ill fate. When he saw her late on this cursed day, already drunk for at least one or two hours, smelling like a dead rat, his face red from the alcohol and contorted in sorrow and hatred, a bottle of whiskey in his hand and the other on the radio controller. The couch was surrounded by a half a dozen empty bottles of beer and a completely empty bottle of wine too, making her even more aware of the mess she was in, as her uncle was rarely still awake when drinking this much.
He stopped listening to tonight's programme where the spokespersons were telling a morbid and terrifying history one after the other to celebrate Halloween. As she entered the living room to greet her uncle as she had been told to do since she was little by her aunt, the man in the radio began to tell a story about a vampire lady that received the nickname of the black widow, for she had more than a hundred husband that all died from an unknown disease back in the seventeenth century. The story in itself was quite terrifying in itself, but nothing more than a fictional story and so, very less real than her uncle's bad mood of the day. From what she understood this morning, he had taken the day off, as he did the last two years, and sat all day on the couch, drinking proportions that would have killed anyone else that wasn't as towering and heavy as him.
"Com' here girl ! Expl-hick Explain yourself !" He shouted at her as she came close yet not close enough to be in range of his fists, as he pointed outraged at the state of her dress and the dirt all over her socks, shoes, knees and cheeks.
"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon, I cheated on the last exam at school and had a better grade than Dudley so he took it upon himself to remind me not to do it again. I have learned the lesson Uncle Vernon, I'll take care of Mrs Figgs garden for the next two weeks to pay for a new skirt to replace this one. It won't happen again…" Lyria understood in her short life that more often than not, being able to tell a believable lie and belittling yourself could get you out of some dangerous situations.
She knew today was one of those days where she would need to be as careful and cunning as possible to evade the explosive mood of her uncle. Sometimes you had to choose to make yourself look guilty of something to take the attention of your listener away from the initial problem in order to get a beating less painful and who knows, maybe she would even keep the right to eat if she played her cards well. She knew that she was being disillusioned here but she had to stay positive and focused or she would take the full course instead. Telling him that Dudley had already put her back in her place with a false story often worked to lessen his anger when he was drunk, making him feel proud of his son and less interested in her.
"WHAT ! You DARE humi-hick-liate my son by CHEATING on a test ! You FREAK still don't understand your pla-hick-ce do you ?! Com' hick here !" He was so angry that he didn't even stop talking as he let drunken hiccups sound out, his hand grasping so tight the radio controller that he knuckles were white and the veins of his forehead were bulging from beneath his greasy skin. Her excuse would not work this evening obviously.
She made two careful steps towards him and when she was about to make a third one, she was sent to the ground with a huge slapping noise. She took a moment to register the blow that just landed on her right cheekbone like a thunderbolt, making every nerves in her face scream information of pain to her drowsy brain. Her vision was clouded and she noticed that her eyes were full of tears that couldn't not escape despite willing to keep them in. She looked at the ground and heard her walrus of an uncle get up from the couch, making the strings inside of it screech in protest.
"You will get what you deserve freak ! You took my wife away ! You humiliate my son ! You dare speak back to me ! I will be done with this freakiness of you once and for all ! No food ! No water ! No shower ! And no exit from your cupboard ! For a week !" He said as he slapped her again as she dared look up at him with those false tears of hers that she always had whenever she tricked Petunia to ease her chores. It worked on his beloved wife back then, but it would never have worked on him. He would teach her a lesson that she would remember for quite some time !
He grabbed her by the shoulder with so much strength that she cried in pain and squirmed to get out of his grip and suddenly, a crack was heard above the background sound of the chimney and the radio. He took his hand off her and saw her right collarbone making an odd angle, and the small girl crying harder than ever in pain as she rolled on the floor. "What had he done ? Maybe he had overdone it ? How would he explain her broken limb to the teacher at school ? The bruising were ok, she was clumsy even at school after all, but a broken collarbone ?"
"No he had not overdone it of course ! He had every right to hurt her as much he hurt her when she took his wife away ! When she took Dudley's mom away ! With all the trouble she brought him he had every right to dispose of her as he please, didn't he ? Yes he did ! Of course !" He descended upon her and tried to grasp her arm again but this time, she rolled out of his way, angering him even more. She had never dared to oppose him before, never dare to avoid her punishment. But today she was standing up against him !? He was not going to let this pass as he tried once again to grab her, this time, by the hair, lifting her up with only one arm, satisfied.
He prepared his hand to give her one or two final slaps before throwing her in her cupboard and forgetting about her for a week, but some unfamiliar feeling came from his left arm and he looked at it confused. "What could be this feeling…" He thought, before seeing that the freak had bitten his arm so hard that he teeth… Her canines had gone past his skin and into his muscles ! He let go of her hair and she fell to the ground in a loud thud as he looked at his arm and all the drowsiness of the alcohol slowly left him and his vision and hearing got back under control.
The girl had bitten him… He could see the mark of her upper and lower teeth in an angry red on his skin and four strays of blood escaping his forearm… In the background, he heard for the first time in hours the voice of one of the spokesperson very clearly : "This lady was in truth, a vampire and had killed her husbands one after the other as she fed off their blood, biting their soft neck skin to savour the taste of their blood, pigmented by the food she had been feeding to them for the duration of their marriage. As she enjoyed her last meal from her last husband however, she got caught by her husband's heir in the act and died after he shot her twice in the heart and plunged into her belly a silver stick that usually served to tickle the meat smoking in the chimney…". As he heard this, he looked back at the freak and his eyes glowed with a renewed hatred, this time, ten fold the intensity of before and mixed in with an equal amount of fear.
He always thought that her canines were too prominent for them to be normal but no one seemed to agree with him and said that some humans had longer ones than others. But at this moment where she opened her mouth wide and wiped the remaining blood on her lips, he felt that they were nothing normal. Her top canines were at least twenty milliliters if not more and the bottom one were slightly smaller but not one bit less scary. He backed down slowly to the chimney and saw the iron stick he let there the last time he bothered moving the logs in the fire. He dismissed the pain from grasping the other end of the stick that had grown hot too due the heat transfer as time went by.
When the freak turned around and tried to make a beeline for the door and for sure lock herself in her cupboard to protect herself, he ran as fast as his walrus of a body filled with alcohol could allow him to. He had to eliminate this threat to his family as he should have years ago. She turned towards him back in the living room as she couldn't open it for some reason, terrified and sweating like crazy.
"Please Uncle Vernon forgive me !" She cried as she pressed herself even more in the door as if she wanted to melt through it. He paid no attention to her monster talk however and he did the only thing he could think of : He stabbed her in the guts like the man in the story did to kill the black widow.
A scream of utter pain exploded out of Lyria's mouth as she got stabbed by the white hot, iron stick, her insides being torn apart as it protruded in her guts and began to set herself on fire from the inside. In the matter of a mere second, she blacked out and her brain shut down as something clicked in her mind. "I will die… There's no way I can get away from him… Maybe this is the way things should be… Maybe I was such a hindrance and a freak that I deserved everything they threw at me… Dying is not so terrifying after all… It seems lulling, more peaceful than life… Maybe I'll see mom and dad… That seems nice, yeah…"
And slowly she began to drift unconscious as she had already given up, tired and in pain. There was no use in suffering for no reason, she might as well give in and make her uncle a favor by never bothering him again. "No… You have to live… There is so much you have yet to discover… So much you have yet to enjoy… Don't be a coward… Fight for your life… Fight for your parents… Fight for me… But most importantly fight for yourself… Be selfish and live !"
All of this lasted for half a second and she didn't know what all of this meant or where it came from, but it gave her the push she needed to keep fighting for her life. After this, her blood had begun to boil inside her veins, bubbling beneath her skin that had turned so pale and cold, a stark contrast to the state of her life fluid. Her eyes began to glow a sickly green aura, her body got colder and colder until the point were her skin started to be covered by a light layer of ice, quickly growing thicker and thicker. The pain she was feeling in her veins was so intense that she thought she would burst into fire at any moment and her mind was clouded by pain and fear.
Vernon started to become wild as the temperature was so cold that the former burning stick in his hand was now so cold that it stuck to his burnt skin, so much so that his nervous system had stopped working in this area of his body. All he could concentrate on was the glowing green emeralds looking at him devoid of anything but desolation and pain as her throat was still constricted by a constant scream of agony. In one moment though, the stick broke under the sudden shift of temperature it suffered causing a stress induced pressure at the molecular level, unbinding the strong connection between them, a sign of imminent fracture.
When the iron stick finally broke under the stress, little shards of it flew all around the room and he fell backwards, as he had been trying to get away from the freak the whole time without noticing. He felt dizzy as the cold aura from the girl was beginning to waver and grow weaker with each second before she fell to the ground, covered in ice that was slowly melting. She was going crazy on the ground screaming in pain as her veins glowed a dark blue color from beneath her paler than ever white skin.
The entire house… No, the entire block of houses had been struck by the wave of freezing death and as the snow and ice was disappearing with the fall of Lyria, he registered what happened for the first time and his heart missed a heartbeat or two as he tried to stand up and finish what he had begun earlier. He had to end her life or she would be the death of him and what was left of his family but as he was getting closer to her and about to strike once again, he fell to the ground unconscious with only one word on his lips as a faint blue light struck him : "Monster…". His body flew towards the wall of the veranda and crashed there in a loud thump.
When she fell to the ground, she felt light headed and the world started to spin around her. She tried to claw her way to the door, not even registering her small and sharp black nails cutting into the wood, or the elongated bloody teeth that had replaced her canines or even her snow white hair scattered around her on the floor where she laid down. The last thing she saw was the door of the living room opening in a flash of light and the figure of an almighty and bathed in light figure, wearing an ocean blue magnificent robe. After that, she too fell unconscious, the immense burning pain gaining the better of her.
She didn't even hear the screams of panic and fear of Dudley coming from the hall as he rushed past the tall man in the robe. She did not even register the sound of police cars outside the house. From the other side of the door stood none other than Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard to ever live since Merlin himself according to most. If his instruments monitoring the last Potter's health had gone wild for the past twenty minutes, it could only mean that something terrible would happen, and it had.
He looked at the state of the house and the living room, searching for his protege and after one good look, he saw a young girl he hardly recognised, motionless on the floor, a thick and bluish liquid covering the ground all around her and freezing everything it touched. The girl had starking long white hair, a ghostly skin that seemed to be covered in ice, ruby red lips and a bloody chin, charcoal black nails embedded into the wooden planks and most importantly, a belly in shreds, with guts nearling spilling out of the simple but deep and nasty gash. He knew right away that time was of the essence and so he knelt before her ignoring the panicking Dudley curled up next to his father, nearly making a heart attack at what was happening.
He took the elder wand out and performed some very complicated spells he had never had the chance to use before as medicinal magic was not one of the branches he had been particularly interested in and in need to perform. However, his thirst for knowledge in all forms of magic would prove to be useful this evening as he willed the spilt blood to return into her body. This was the first thing he could do to ensure she survived long enough for him to take her to someone more competent and truly able to cure her. He then proceeded to apply a stasis spell on her body to try and maintain her state as stable as possible during the travel he had to make her go through.
He lifted her in the air and turned around. He fired two spells at each Dursley's men to obliviate them on his presence, then he walked out the door with Lyria's body in front of him as he faced the dozen of police officers that came here after they were called due to the screaming heard by the neighbourhood in number four and then with the strange environmental and climatic freezing storm. He pointed his wand at them and obliviated them all before firing one last yellow spell in the air that had the effect of making a dozen men in a white and yellow uniform with a bright M on the back of their dresses five minutes after he got away with an unregistered portkey created on the spot. These men were of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement special division of obliviation of muggles. Dumbledore knew that the moment these wizards and witches arrived on the scene, he would not have to worry about troubles with the muggles but only a little talk with the Minister of Magic, a good old student of his that had way too many favors he owed him.
The DMLE task force made sure to get rid of all traces of magic in the area and obliviate the memories of all those that had witnessed the climatic disorder, making everything return to normal and meaning that they could go back to their warm office in the ministry. This operation lasted for two hours and none of them were too happy to be disturbed for a strange occurrence with no clue as to what happened and no muggle victim to interrogate in 4th Private Drive as the two Durlseys had no recognition of the events. Finally they gave up and got back to the Ministry frustrated but satisfied with their good work nonetheless.
When they apparated away from the scene, the muggle were put out of their stasis as if nothing happened and the only thing the police officers remembered was that they were called by neighbours to investigate on the strange screaming that could be heard from number four for ten minutes. After two hours of investigation, Vernon Dursley had been taken away by the police and declared a alcoholic with a violent and oppressive behaviour towards his niece that was in his custody and was charged with her supposed murder. He would be taken to the tribunal two days from now and his trial would begin. In the meantime, his condition was judged unfit to take care of his son and Dudley Dursley was placed in an orphanage and on the list of the children to be taken custody of by willing families.
The body of Lyria Lily Potter, presumed killed by her uncle this very evening was nowhere to be found, but due to some medling from a certain white haired wizard with half moon glasses, a strong suggestion was in the mind of the officers that the fire in the chimney had been the way to make her body disappear and some DNA sample proved this theory weeks after the incident, confirming her death to the muggle authorities and ending the trial of one certain Vernon Dursley. Such a story would make the breaking news only hours after the incident in any normal situation, but due to the great influence and debts owed to a certain all powerful Headmaster of Hogwarts and with the help of the Minister of Magic, this story never made it past the doors of the tribunal. This ended the story of Lyria Potter, the muggle niece of the Dursley family.
Hogwarts - School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - Scotland - 31 of October 1987 - 9 PM
As Albus Dumbledore appeared in front the massive doors of magnificent and imposing medieval castle, he sighed and opened the door by a simple flick of his wand and made a straight way to the infirmary as he only trusted one woman to take care silently and in the utmost secrecy of his protege after what happened tonight. He entered unceremoniously inside the infirmary and he thanked Fate itself that no student was here for the night and that Poppy Pomfrey, his personal mediwitch and mediwitch of his school, would be able to focus herself solely on the little girl he was bringing her.
"Albus ! What are you doing here at this hour ? What could possibly justify such a noisy entrance and the hurry ? Are you injured or is this some kind of Samhain joke ?" She asked exasperatedly at the old wizard that once was her professor back in the forties and that never ceased to make her work more tedious or "entertaining" as he liked to call it each time he came back from one of his study sessions in the wild God's know where.
"I need your help Poppy, it is urgent and it requires your full attention and the best of your abilities. You are her only hope of getting out of this mess alive." As he said that, he got the full attention of the mediwitch that frowned not quite understanding yet what was asked of her but knowing that the old wizard was not in the mood for a joke or anything less but the best from her.
"Who do I need to save Albus ?" She said as she gathered from a flick of her wand dozens of vials that began to place themselves on a tray well aligned, as she murmured a small accio medical supplies.
"Lyria Potter." He only said this before he pointed at a room at the far end of the infirmary, a room that was directly next to her living quarters, where usually went the students that were the most gravely injured after doing a dangerous potion without the supervision of professor Snape or sneaking into the forbidden forest despite it being forbidden or how so many quidditch players that thought they could challenge death at every match like it was nothing.
"Wha… Show me the way…" She just said, not needing the explanations just right as she saw the dark expression on her mentor's face and knew that the situation was grimmer than she expected it to be and that maybe every seconds could make a difference.
They entered the secluded room at the back of the infirmary and there, she saw her. Lying in the single bed that was in the room, unconscious within a stasis bubble created by the Headmaster to keep her in a sort of state where everything was going way more slowly than outside of it depending on the strength of the caster. Dumbledore being the one that casted the spell, her state had not changed a bit from what she looked like when he picked her up nearly twenty minutes ago.
Mrs Pomfrey went to her bedside and assessed the situation as she casted a complicated spell that she learnt during her many years of formation at St Mungo's Hospital that was able to project an image of the body's inner layers above the body of the patient itself. She first looked at the muscle layer and found that her rectus abdominis had been badly damaged but nothing that she could not heal with the help of some tissue regenerative potion and some mending spells.
Then she looked at the cardiovascular system and observed the arteries and veins that had been cut open, severed or simply burnt and then frozen by the look of things. She could not understand how such a thing could have been possible though, it seemed like some part of her cardiovascular system had already started to heal itself on its own where the injuries were minor and when they were too big, it clogged frozen the veins, preventing a hemorrhage. She was however even more intrigued by something else but had no time to dwell on it as the Headmaster coughed loudly behind her to remind her that time was of the essence. She hadn't even noticed that she had zoned off until Albus made her come back to herself.
Finally she took a long and thorough look at her internal organs layer and she had to admit that it was quite a mess. She had seen and healed way worse during the last war but she could not deny that it was still nasty and it would need a lot of work on her part. Yet, in the end, she was still relieved that it was way better than what she expected from the face of the Headmaster when he entered the infirmary. She would be able to heal her and in the matter of one or two months, she would be as good as new.
"Albus, I'll need the cooperation of Severus for tonight, I don't have two necessary potions to heal young Miss Potter and even if it is not as bad as I thought it would be, these potions are critical for her recovery." Albus nodded and took the piece of parchment she gave him where was the name of the two potions and he headed towards the dungeon where he would find a not so pleased potion master, that would have gladly enjoyed a full evening free of potion duties for once. "Albus !" He turned around confused and looked at the mediwitch from above his glasses.
"The stasis spell please !" She said exasperated as she could not work properly with the spell still in effect. Dumbledore simply chuckled and waved his wand lazily before walking out of the room."Alright Poppy, let's get to work. First the organs…" This was how a long operation of three hours of spellwork, ointments and potion administration began for the renowned healer of Hogwarts.
A week later - Hogwarts - Infirmary
It was 10 pm and only one man was still allowed to stay in the medical bay in the secluded room in which was Lyria Potter, still in Mrs Pomfrey's custody as her body had been mended and they were waiting for the potions to take effect and get its part of the job done repairing the muscle tissues that had been destroyed, replenish her lymphocytes and tend to her broken collarbone. All the rest had already been patched up and would need time to fully heal with a certain treatment of potion and a lot of rest.
However, when he looked at her sleeping with no other visible vital sign other than her slow and steady breathing pattern, he couldn't help but feel like something was wrong about her. She didn't seem to be feeling pain anymore and everything looked fine but for some reason, he had the impression that something was off. She looked peaceful but at the same time, he couldn't help but feel the conflicted waves of magical power fighting inside of her as if her magic was fighting against some sort of external invisible assault. He sighed as he felt like he was in part responsible for what happened to her yet at the same time he knew that he couldn't have changed anything.
He had made a promise to himself to go and see if the girl was alright once a month and he had done so the first five years. From everything he saw, he was not satisfied but it was livable and decent. Her aunt was taking care of her and opposed herself to her husband on a regular basis to keep Lyria's life bearable and correct. So as his schedule became tighter and tighter he had to stop coming so often and the fifth year he only came once and not much seemed to have changed from what he saw even knowing that Petunia died, the girl seemed to be ok and not suffer. He had made sure that the blood wards around Privet Drive were still standing despite the death of Petunia and it seemed like Dudley's blood was close enough to his mother's and he kept the ward standing if not a little weaker.
He then did not have any spare time to go and see her when he had to take over the post of supreme Mugwump of the ICW. He did not come to see her in the last two years and with what he had before his eyes at this instant, he understood that it was one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He had neglected her security too much and it was not something he was to reproduce in the future if he wanted the prophecy to come true and also ensure the survival of Lyria. He had played a dangerous game by putting her with her relatives but it had served so many purposes in the past that he had thought it to be the best idea and it clearly was until the death of her aunt. The protection the wards gave her and the life far from her fame were too great to be overlooked and if he had monitored her well-being a little bit more they would not be in the situation they were in now. He sighed and got up to go back to his quarters with the intentions to get some more work done to be able to clear his schedule for tomorrow morning.
The following morning - Potter Castle
This morning Mrs Pomfrey had released Lyria from her care and had given the Headmaster all the potions she had to take in the following month and what dose she had to take daily. He was the one that would take her to her new home and that would explain the situation to the house elves of the Potter family if they were still alive, after all it had been so long since he had been to the ancestral home of the young girl's family.
He had prepared a portkey already and as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, he had certain privileges such as the right to pass through the wards and apparate or portkey in and out without being repelled by the thousand years old ancient wards and runes protecting the castle. He looked at the peaceful but slightly feverish girl in front of him and sighed as he grabbed her right hand and touched the old socks he had transformed into the portkey. The moment his hand entered in contact with the socks, he felt the distinctive feeling of being pulled out of existence from his belly button and all began to move quickly around them.
Then the world began to go crazy around him and landscapes succeed to one another before he landed softly in a gravel courtyard surrounded by a garden 'à la française' and in front of it was the small Castle Potter, that only was small at a castle scale because it had only about five hundred square meters area and was a two story castle. He did take his time to observe the castle as it had been eight years since he last saw it, when James and Lily went into hiding in Godric's Hollow. Waving his wand, the floating body of Lyria Potter, still entangled in a warm blanket along with a small bag containing her potions for the month, began to fly in front of him at a steady pace and he went for the amazing entry.
Bluegarden Castle, the ancestral home of the Potter family was quite a sight to behold. If it was on the smaller side of the spectrum, it was definitely one of the most beautiful castle of all of magical and muggle Great Britain. Built in the middle of a calm river, it was elevated above the water on artificially created platforms that formed the pattern of a blooming flower from the sky with the main island hosting Bluegarden Castle, in what would be the heart of the flower. All the petals of the flower pattern were gardens, of all types : the farther ones were more exotic and they were more and more conservative and clean cut as you neared the castle. Marble fountains and statues were numerous and decorated the gardens and walkways along with small fire pits reminding him of the beauty of the french and italian architectural style from the renaissance.
The nine bridges that connected all the islands together were made out of polished stone and silvery metals forming floral patterns on the railings and archways giving everything a clear hint at the classical an greco-roman inspiration of all the decorations from the grounds of the castle. He had been there so many times and yet it never ceased to amaze him how much care and thoughts were put to build this wonderful place.
All of this was without talking about the castle itself. Made out of white marble and decorated with a dark red wood that looked like maple, it transpired nobility and power. Its architecture was very strange though, contradictory even. The stark classic columns were in direct conflict with the gothic archway and overly decorated and carved wooden walls that separated them. It was like the gothic style of the french middle ages style had been forcefully mixed with the baroque style and finally embellished and supported by the classical columns, terraces and balconies, a stark contrast with the high roof, multiple gothics spires and small flying buttresses reminiscing of a cathedral.
Despite the strange architectural style used, all of it was oddly compatible in the end and gave it its unique and grandiose look that had made most of the noble magical society jealous back in the day where it was used to give mondain parties and such other commodities. The castle was built in a U shape with a central round tower with a dome roof with twelve spires, two wings with each a square tower. The decorative stained glass windows depicting angels and gardens of the castle always reminded him that the Potter family was the only pureblood or Halfblood family to be religious worshiping a certain god, that none knew about aside from their family, despite the bad image it gave them amongst their peers. This trait of their family had been one of the many things that had made them be stripped from the sacred 28 as too many purebloods remembered the witch hunt of the middle ages perpetrated by the catholic church and none of them wanted anything to do with a family that worshipped any type of god.
Albus sighed as he finally reached the porch and the main entrance where the door was carved to display a scenery of a cliff on which was a pack of wolves drinking from a cloaked angel sculpted fountain with the moon in the sculpted sky, the moon taking the form of a skull, with a thousand tentacles. He never knew the significance of this sculpture as all of the Potter members had never answered his question with anything else but a mysterious smile and shake of their heads. He could only assume that it had a link with their origins that were mysterious for most that had not strong and ancient bonds with the Potter.
He used the enormous knockers that were sticking out of the mouth of a sculpted wooden tree headed wolf, the emblem of the Potter family, and waited for an answer. He waited for ten minutes in front of the door and was getting tired of waiting. He had always been authorised to apparate on the grounds of the castle so he had no problems getting to the door, but unfortunately and obviously, he had never been allowed by the owners to enter the castle on is own and he feared that he would have to force his way in if there was no house elf anymore to grant him and the rightful heir entry. Lyria would be able to enter with no problem on her own but she was in no condition to do so and this meant that he was forced to get his wand out in order to try and see if he could still make them enter the castle or if they would have to wait for Lyria to get better in order to enter.
When he was about to fire the first spell that would give him an idea on what was protecting the house, the door opened and the very old looking house elf that looked utterly exhausted and devoid of life, came into his line of sight. To say he was shocked was an understatement, as before him were the same house elf that was born five decades earlier from the former house elves of House Potter : Pixy.
"Who dares to dirty the mighty and noble porch of Bluegarden Castle…" Asked the house elf, as he pointed a long and bony finger at him and glared like he was the dirtiest thing that ever walked on these old stones.
"I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and long friend of Charlus Potter, father of your late Master Fleamont Potter." He presented himself with a simple smile and a small chuckle when the old elf's eyes widened and began to apologise for his inappropriate behaviour to the great and old friend of the late Master Fleamont and mentor of late Master James.
"Pixy bes sorry for his behaviour, Great Albus Dumbledore sir. Pixy bes alone for so long that he forgot his manners and language. What purpose thy have here Headmaster ? This old elf has not seen thy for so long, he thought thy had forgotten about him and this family…" He asked in the characteristic way in which all Potter house elves always talked with old english pronouns mixed with new english which got confusing sometimes.
"Well I bring back home someone that in other circumstances should never have gotten away from here in the first place. Let me place in your care the last heir of the Potter House, your new Mistress." As he said this, the body of Lyria came from behind him and revealed itself to the already watery eyes of the old house elf that had begun to whimper at the revelation of the return of his young Mistress gone in hiding with his late Master James and Mistress Lily.
"Mistress Lyria is back !" He cried as he grabbed like it was his lifeline the blanket in which was wrapped the raven haired girl. His tears soon began to moisten the fabric and Dumbledore had to pat him on the head twice to make him look up and stop crying on it.
"Do you think you are still able to take care of your Mistress and live true to your duty and obligations towards Lyria Potter ?" He asked a dead serious expression on his face to the old creature that looked like it was going to die of exhaustion and joy in a matter of minutes.
"Of course, thou can have faith in Pixi ! Pixi lives only to serve the Noble House of Potter and thy have nothing to fear for this elf will live and serve Mistress Lyria until the day she wishes me gone." As if the mere presence of Lyria had revitalized a part of his magic, the house elf snapped his fingers and Lyria began flying into the house on herself along with her bag of medicinal potions.
The small elf followed her and Dumbledore did the same as he explained to the house elf what he had to do to take care of Lyria in the state she was in and what potion he had to give her at what time of the day and in the good proportions and order. They were up the double spiral staircase in the circular room that was the entry hall of the castle but also the access point to all the wings and upper level with an endless beautiful stream of water flowing from the dome shaped roof and into a small pond in the entry. He looked up and admired for the thousandth time the motionless painting of an entirely blue and white garden with a silvery sky on the dome.
They went up and reached the only upper level in a colored yet faint light coming from the stained glass windows and entered the upper left wing. He had never been allowed upstairs in the past and he was surprised to find that it was no different than the ground level, making him wonder why he had never had access to this part of the castle if there was nothing different or anything to hide. Pixy seemed to be aware of him looking around intrigued and it looked like he had picked up the pace in the hallway and he snapped his fingers when they turned at the corner, making the walls glow before everything went back to normal again. Dumbledore frowned but said nothing as he had no right to be here in the first place according to the will of the last Lords or House Potter. Yet it seemed strange that they had some things to hide to his eyes, as if a dark secret was kept hidden behind the walls of the upper levels of this ancestral castle, dark secrets that could change his view of them apparently.
He did not give it anymore thoughts as they entered a room where Lyria Lily Potter was written on the door above the small knocker. Inside was a spacious room way too big to be the actual size seen from the exterior but it didn't surprise the old wizard that knew that with the fortune that had the Potter before the two great wars of this century and the fortune they still had, there was no reason for them to have such a small castle from the outside. Of course every room was magically expanded and Lyria's room was no exception.
They entered a small living room with a big chimney and a wooden floor covered mostly by two huge carpets, depicting hunting parties, a big brown sofa with baby blue cushions in front of a low table. At the end of the room were two huge arched windows and alcoves with a tapestry on the opposing wall of the chimney and a door leading to the actual bedroom and another to what was most certainly a bathroom. A stained glass door was lodged between the two arched windows and gave access to one of the two huge balconies of the castle. They went for the bedroom's door and there he was met by an over decorated room with carved walls, an immense tapestry on the floor, baroque style buffet and desk with two royal baroque armchairs and a low table with lions feet and a massive canopy bed.
He had never entered the living quarters of any members of the Bluegarden Castle and he had to admit that despite it being over decorated, too stuffed and not his style of decoration, it had a lot of class and transpired wealth but also felt very old looking even compared to other pureblood houses. He came back to his senses as he felt Pixy's magic act again as he placed Lyria underneath her bed sheets that were already prepared, as if the elf had kept this room ready for years in hope of having his Master and Mistress come back with their precious daughter. It was probably a good assumption though, as it felt like the elf had managed to keep what he had seen of the house in perfect shape on his own for so long which was an immense accomplishment to say the least.
"Mistress Lyria is in good hands now. Thy must not worry about her anymore Headmaster. This elf will take care of her to the best of his abilities and the Mistress will be back in shape in no time." Assured him the old elf as he smiled a true smile for the first time in what felt like years and Albus simply nodded as he checked one last time the bag with the potions and handed it to Pixy.
"Then I let her in your care Pixy. I will come from time to time to check on her if it is alright with your Mistress when she wakes up. I bid you a goodbye then as I have work to attend to." As he said that, the house elf vanished the wards around him to allow him to apparate away to Hogwarts and in a matter of seconds he was gone.
Hours later
Far away from Hogwarts, in a blue, black and dark red coloured bedroom, layed Lyria Potter. She was in her four poster king size bed, the ice blue velour curtains were closed to prevent any light from entering her shelter. The ceiling of her bed was an embroidery depicting the eden garden and it was a beautiful piece of art. The mahogany used for the bed and the quality of the sheets showed the wealth of the Potter family.
This was on this embroidered ceiling that her gaze concentrated when she painfully opened her eyes for the first time in two days. She felt pain everywhere in her body, but it seemed to be dulled by something. What ached the most though was her belly and her collarbone. "Of course it hurts there, dummy… That's were I got hurt by uncle Vernon… Wait… Am I alive then ?" She couldn't move because everything she did made the pain in her belly come at her with full force each time.
She did not know where she was nor how she ended up here but it did not matter at the moment. She was in the comfiest and largest bed she had ever seen, the temperature was perfect, the sheets were silky and of the most enjoyable tissues, the sun was blocked by the beautiful curtains and she felt at home for the first time in her life for an odd reason.
She was completely relaxed. If she was here without being attached or locked, that her pain was dulled like after taking morphine and that no one bothered her then it could only mean that the one that hosted her at the moment only wanted her best for the moment. So she just remained there enjoying her rest. She didn't know for how long she would be at peace, praying that it would last forever.
As if she was doomed or cursed, her wish went into the void when only one minute later the door opened. She faked to be asleep, afraid of what could happen to her if she was found awake. She heard small feet tapping the floor, coming forward closer and closer to her. She began to panic once again, her breath went uneven and sweat began to appear on her forehead and back. She thought she was going to freak out when she heard it. A little high hitch voice calm and reassuring that seemed to only wish her well being.
"Mistress still is not awake… Don't worry Mistress Lyria, Pixi is going to take care of you…" Said the gentle voice, these words made her cry silently, this much compassion and care were not something she was used to.
"Thank you…" She whispered a little bit scared about the creature that seemed to call her his mistress for some strange reasons.
"Mistress?... Mistress?... Are you awake?... Don't be afraid of me, Pixy bes thy humble servant… Pixy only wishes the best for thy because thee are his late Master's daughter and his new Mistress…" With these words, Lyria opened her eyes and she tried to look at the person that was talking to her but in her position, she could not see her interlocutor as it must be very small or far enough for her to not be able to see his form through the curtains.
"Who… Who are you ? Do I know you from somewhere ? Where… Where am I ?"
"The name is Pixy and he bes thine house elf… Thy need to rest ! Pixy will climb on the chair next to thine bed Mistress so thy can see me if thy want me to." Continued the voice.
"Climb then but don't come near me." Accepted, still afraid Lyria as she stopped trying to get a look at her benefactor.
"As thou wish Mistress Lyria." She could see something moving from her side and then as she turned her head a little bit, she could finally see him… her… it ? Whatever this creature was, it was not human for sure. "I must be dreaming. What is this ungodly creature ?!"
"What are you… You… You're not human !" The raven haired girl asked gobsmacked, her voice fearful and punctuated by little whimpers of pain as the gash on her belly was still very painful at the moment and her insides must have been in a much poorer state.
"Oh no of course Pixy bes not, Pixy bes a house elf." He said proudly before seeing the eyebrows of his mistress frowning. "I assume thy don't know anything about magic and thine world Mistress ?"
"I'm completely lost… Can you enlighten me... please, sir ?" Shyly responded Lyria before she yawned and made a grimace at the pain it brought along, before sighing in exasperation at being in pain every time she did something so banal.
"Not sir Mistress ! Pixy bes thine property ! Pixy bes thine faithful servant ! Please take some rest, relax and return to sleep. I'll tell thy whatever thou want after thy took some good rest and thy can stay awake without being in so much pain." He said before snapping his fingers making her fall asleep instantly.
Hogwarts - hours later
While he was working on his paperwork, Albus's mind was wandering elsewhere thinking about his old friend Charlus Potter, a man that had been his only childhood friend with Elphias Doge. They were a nice trio, before he fell in his destructive friendship with Grindelwald. Charlus was a man that was less talented than him but he was by far the most cunning and influential politician he ever saw. He was able just by saying some few words to convince the people that he was the man they needed and galvanized a crowd to the point where they could go to war and die for him.
He also was the man that stayed the longest at the post of Minister for Magical Britain for the longest period. He was a true leader and was the only man that Albus ever truly admired for what he was. Under his rule, magical Britain made its greatest jump in time, accepting revolutionary laws and rules that completely changed the archaic and bigoted society of the past that had stayed with the traditions of the thirteenth century.
Albus made a summary of his relationship with the Potter and saw that each time they needed him the most, he had failed them. Because he was a coward and was afraid to fight Grindelwald even after destroying the blood pact between them, Charlus, Fleamont and his two eldest sons died by the hand of the german Dark Lord.
When James needed him to hide and protect his family he gave it to him with the best of his abilities but oversaw the fact that there was a traitor among them, believing another to be the spy and lowering his guard with the one that he should have seen to be the real spy.
Finally when Lyria needed the safest and most loving childhood ever, he in fact gave her a pretty harsh and traumatizing experience of life. Thanks to Poppy and her incredible handywork and the assistance of the house-elves to help her, they had done a magnificent job at patching her up. Yet sometimes, the worst damages were those that were invisible to the eyes, and he feared what such experiences could lead her to become. She needed guidance, but most importantly love and someone to trust.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not hear that someone had been knocking for five minutes now. Only when he heard his name being nearly screamed throughout the door did he react.
"PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE !" Insisted the slightly unnerved voice of his transfiguration teacher.
"Yes yes Minerva come in !" Sighed the old man coming back to the real world and looking at the cat-like woman entering and looking sternly at him.
"I thought I would have to wait at your door for an hour Albus" She ticked.
"Please excuse me my dear but I was lost in memories of a better time." He lied while putting on his grandfather's smile on his face.
"Not to me Albus, I can see that something is bothering you." Continued sternly the Scottish woman.
"Well yes, something is bothering me but it is not the point… Why did you come here Minerva? What can I do for you?"
"Hum… I came here because I was wondering if you had seen Lyria Potter these past years, it was on my mind for a long time now but I was surprised to not hear news of her from you for two years. I thought until now that you just never had the chance to talk about it to me but I just wanted to know if everything was… alright, I guess ?" She had never seen before the face of her mentor decompose itself gradually like that for at least half a century. She instantly knew that something was wrong.
"Of all the subjects that you had to come and discuss with me, it was this one that you had to choose… Maybe it is fate knocking at my door after all." Sighed the most powerful wizard of the century.
"What is wrong with the grill Albus… And don't lie to me or I will know it eventually." Asked coldly the cat woman sensing that she would not like what she was about to hear.
"There is no reason to hide the truth from you … This is what I know for now…" Dumbledore explained everything that he knew from his point of view and then waited for her to explode. For that he did not need to wait for too long.
"Albus… Do you realise that you probably purely destroyed her putting her in this household… Do you even imagine what she had to go through there?... DIDN'T I WARN YOU ABOUT THESE MUGGLES ?! DON'T YOU HAVE NO SHAME ALBUS !"
"DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE I DID NOT KNOW THIS ALREADY ! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO TELL ME THIS ! DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME THAT I AM EMOTIONLESS I HAD A SISTER THAT DIED PARTLY DUE TO PHYSICAL VIOLENCE !"
"THEN HOW COULD YOU MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE ONCE AGAIN! ARE SO FULL OF YOURSELF THAT YOU THOUGHT THIS WOULD NOT HAPPEN AGAIN !"
BOOM !
A cannon like sound escaped the wand of the eldest Dumbledore, trembling, and this shutted up his transfiguration professor in an instant. She was taken aback by such a violent reaction, never before had she seen the great Albus Dumbledore lose its temper even during the most dire straits of war. But the man she faced now was the shadow of her mentor.
"Ariana's life was a living hell because of those muggles' bullies, she ended up being an obscurus because of them. It was all my fault for not protecting her. I will not let another child go through the same suffering as she did. I swear upon my magic to protect and help Lyria Potter, so mote it be." Swore the old man while keeping in his hand the Elder Wand. The transfiguration mistress was so shocked that she did not even notice that she had sat down.
"What… Did you… Did you just… Swore an oath on your magic… To Lyria Potter…"
"Yes that is exactly what I just did." Said lifeless the old man before he sighed and placed his wand next to the papers he was reading minutes before. He went back to reading them quietly, sighing every now and then.
"Albus …"
"I explained to you everything I know for the moment. I will ask you to leave me alone for the night, Minerva."
"Yes… Of course. Goodnight Albus."
"Goodnight Minerva… Goodnight."
Like this the transfiguration mistress exited the office and wandered in the corridors of Hogwarts for a moment, her mind overthinking on the information she just received before going back to her quarters.
In the Headmaster's case, he was thinking about the information he had at his disposal. For the moment, the death eaters were no longer a threat in the position in which they were at the moment. Even with their connections in the ministry, their money and their political power, they could not attempt anything against her. This was a huge change from eight years earlier. In the past his decisions were motivated with the fact that no household even those of the most powerful families were not out of reach of the death eaters even after the fall of the Dark Lord.
The Bones, the Longbottom, the Macmillan, all three were powerful houses that were nearly destroyed by the remaining death eaters that wanted to continue their master's plans and his legacy. Now things had changed and a sort of peace was reigning so keeping Lyria in the wizarding world seemed like a possibility now. Moreover he was in a state where he only had to care for her and not try to protect everyone like he had to during the war and at the end of it with only the remaining member of the order.
He felt like now was a good time to accustom Lyria slowly and peacefully to the wizarding world. However something felt wrong with the girl, she felt different from every magical child he ever saw, not in the way Tom was though. And her appearance before coming to Hogwarts, at the Dursley's home, was she a metamorphmagus ? This ability was so rare that only five people in the world were known to possess it and two were from the black family, one being in the castle at this very moment, in the house of the badgers. This was nearly impossible for her to be one, so he put this explanation aside, not discarding it, but not making it his priority.
He felt like he had to investigate the Potter family to try and see if this was in the past a common ability of them. So he stood up and went to his own library searching for ancient and noble families. When he found the book that he wanted to look into, he grabbed it and went back to his desk to begin reading it. The Potter were way too secretive of so many things that he felt like he was bound to find something if he searched well enough.
He turned the pages to P and started to search for Potter. He passed in front of Parkinson, Patil, Peverell, Prewett, Potter and the Pucell. There he read only the section that talked about unique abilities of the family if there were one but he found that they had none. Intrigued he read the part where their history was written. There he saw they appeared in England in the fourteenth century and came from Italy before that. He searched about them in a book with the nobles families of Italy and found none of them being named Potter.
All the more surprised and intrigued, he started to search for anything bound to the Potter and after hours of reading he managed to find that before they moved to England they were from a family named Potteria. This family was not a very opened or well known family from what he could read. The book didn't mention the number they were, nor what their political position was, nor how much money they possessed, not even what their status was. All that was known was their great influence in the italian peninsula and the fact that their words were synonymous with law.
This made him frowned, how could so little be known about a family that seemed to be very powerful and influential in Italy. Not defeated yet, even after having read for nearly eight hours straight, he picked a book that reported all the reasons of human migration in the late fourteenth century but found that nothing seemed to have a relation with the emigration of the Potter in England. Then he tested one that was about the great plagues of the fourteenth century.
This one was the good one. How could he know? He just knew it deep down inside of him, something told him that the truth about the Potter family was in there. He searched everything, the disease of the grains, the flowers, the bees, the animals, the creatures and the humans. He looked into everything starting from the crops to the animals then jumping to the humans but still not finding what he wanted.
When he thought of going to bed instead of doing a blank night, he felt like he was missing something and opened the section about the magical creatures. He read about the werewolves that were in constant augmentation in this century because the disease was more volatile with the population fluxes being greater. Then he read about the veela crisis that involved two great merchant guilds that tried to enslave the majority of them near Venice but ended up burned to death and spreading a disease contracted at the contact of poisonous weapons used by the veela peoples.
Finally he arrived at the Vampire section and saw something he did not know : The Great Purge of the Feveret Sanguis. It seemed like the vampires of the whole world were touched by a mortal and very volatile disease that affected their very essence and killed them slowly and painfully or stripped them of their powers making them into simple wizards. Three centuries later a massive muggle and wizard hunt for the vampires began and nearly annihilated what remained of their race all around the world. The vampire population is believed to be only composed of some two hundred individuals and considered a race near its extinction as most of them are barren for many reasons.
Then he saw that the major populations of vampires were concentrated in the eastern and the southern countries of Europe. Moreover a lot of the ones touched by the disease fled to the western countries, mostly England and France. When the old Headmaster read this, everything seemed to come together. The fact that there were no records of the Potteria family, then the sudden arrival of the Potter family in England and the mystery about their arrival, the mysterious death of a great number of them not long after their arrival, the fact that they seemed to be really knowledgeable in terms of dark creatures, their positions in politics, their secretive nature about their origins and their traditions and moreover the fact that Lyria Potter had a strange color and texture of blood.
"This still did not explain her change of appearance though. I wonder if that is a vampire ability that has never been displayed to the eyes of the wizards and thus unknown to our records. I will have to search more about this strange and old race." He thought as he rubbed his temples due to the lack of sleep and all the unanswered questions that plagued his mind.
But one thing made no sense. If they were touched by the Feveret Sanguis and that they were kicked out of the Potteria family then that would mean they were only normal wizards now and not vampires anymore. Moreover never Charlus nor Fleamont nor his sons showed any vampire's abilities or abnormalities. So it was impossible for Lyria to be a vampire. Yet contrary to the members of her family she clearly showed signs of being a vampire after a good observation. Her ivory skin, her longer canines, the lightly glowing eyes, the raven black hair and the coldness of her body, were if all put together discreet signs of her possibly being a vampire, even if it was just a speculation.
This could only mean one thing, if the Potter had been vampires that had been struck by the disease, then Lyria was the first vampire of the family since the death of the Potteria branch and that she had overcome the disease that touched her bloodline by some miracle or curse. Maybe the reflected killing curse was the reason, maybe not he wasn't sure of anything at this point.
Therefore he now knew how to proceed, he just needed to read everything he could about vampires, in accurate and factual books. He didn't want to read all the ramblings of a little uninteresting racist about the subject like Dolores Umbridge about the centaur or the werewolves. Though for now, he needed a good sleep and a good sleep he would have. He then headed to his quarters and just went to sleep immediately.
Four days later
The Headmaster had two good days of work, he cleared a lot of his schedule due to a greater amount of work on his sides and his no-nonsense politics of the past week. He decided that he would not assist as much as before the Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge, in order to save some spare time for his research. Speaking about his research, he was accumulating a good amount of knowledge about this nearly extinct race and not involved in any modern society after the disaster that hit their race six hundred years before.
As glad as he was to find a lot of interesting and useful information on this mysterious race, he also grew more and more wary of them. They were a race known for their intelligence, their beauty and their overall strength but also for their bloodlust, urges, viciousness, their emotion driven nature and their complete disregard for other lifeforms. The more he learnt about them the more difficult it seemed for him to help Lyria, being a race that usually acted on their emotions with very little compassion and care about the consequences of their bloodlust.
Those qualities and flaws made them a race of passionate and dangerous warriors in the past that never lost a war against the wizard kind or the goblin kind. But it also made them devious beings ready to die or kill any threat for the ones they loved, to cross the forbidden lines of what was authorised and what was not or to fall for the seven deadly sins.
But something also pained him, they were a race of beings not able to withstand for too long the sunlight, with unstable immunity defenses that depended on the quality and quantity of their blood at the moment of the infection and that could not heal with wizard potions or muggle medicines. The book he was reading now was about the anatomy of vampires and how their intriguing abilities seemed to work. Such a book would have been impossible to find if it was not for his connections with some high ranking amongst the unspeakables, known to keep their knowledge to themselves over the darkest and strangest forms of magic ever studied.
In this book, he found many things that he could describe as information surely obtained through very discutable means but that were nonetheless useful, and as he always said, sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good. What interested him though was the part that explained how the supposed blood circulation system worked and it was truly a magnificent prowess of nature. Instead of being two ways from the heart to each muscles and organs, there was a third type of veins that carried what they called the Noble Blood. Either dark red or blue in color and thicker than normal blood, it was the catalyst of the vampire's regenerative nature, longevity and enhanced senses and physical abilities, but also their curse.
This "Noble Blood" was constantly feeding of their normal blood and required at least a monthly refueling of fresh blood in order to keep it from actually feeding off the vampire's own blood and thus killing him slowly and painfully as his own blood was being sucked off his veins and organs to fuel their Noble blood. This noble blood was also the reason behind their resistance to poisons, potions and any other chemical components trying to enter their system, as most of these active substances were going into the blood circulation system that was constantly purged and consumed by the Noble Blood. This was also why it had been recorded in the book that during some experiments, the test subject had shown the ability to replicate some characteristics of certain poisons or venoms injected daily in his body to test the limit of their purging processus. The only poison that seemed to be able to get passed this godly resistance was the venom of a Basilisk, but the option to turn it into an actual weapon was discarded as it was too costly and rare to massively use.
With all that he had managed to gather from his research, there was a good chance that the potions Poppy had given Lyria may very well not work at all if his suspicions were confirmed and she truly was a vampire. Thus, he had to plan a small visit to the Potter estate in order to analyse the status of the last remaining heir to the Potter bloodline and maybe get some backup plan in action in order to provide her the necessary ingredient to cure her and get her out of this dire situation. Had he known that Poppy's treatment would only cost Lyria to use more of her vital force to cleanse her body from the potion given to her instead of healing her, he would have not taken her to the infirmary in the first place.
Two days later " Potter Castle
When Lyria awoke, she found herself still in her bed, hungry like never before and with the same hellish pain waving through her entire body, she felt so tired despite all those hours of sleep that she just lied in her bed, staring at her ceiling, thinking about what she was about to experience. It had been a week since she had awoken and each day was worse than the last one and each medicines she took seemed to make it even worse as the fire in her veins and the nightmares she was having were getting stronger and stronger.
"I feel more exhausted each day that passes and the pain grows more and more unbearable… But it's fine… Papa, Mama, wait for me a little longer, I'm coming to see you soon… What a relief… It's nearly the end"
"Don't give up… Don't give up… You have to live … Just don't give up…"
"But I'm so tired of this life… Why don't you just let me go… You would stop my suffering so much quickly… Why do you continue to maintain me alive… I don't want to live anymore… Just let me go… please"
"That I cannot do… I will never give up on you… So don't you ever give up on me..."
"Why are you doing this… Who are you to do this to me… Why not just end my unbearable pain…"
"I don't know why… Something pushes me to not let you give up… And strangely… I can't tell you who I am, like all the times before… I don't know why but I can't… Moreover… Why would I end your life when you can be saved…"
"I don't want to be saved… I couldn't care less than dying… I just want the suffering to stop… I just want to stop hearing you… If you are not with me… If you don't want to let me die… You must be one of them… Of those that want to hurt me… You want me to continue suffering for nothing but your pleasure… I hate you… I hate you…"
"Don't you say that you hate me ever again… Because… I… I don't know why… But… Deep inside… I like you… I have compassion for you… I want you to live… To get better… To enjoy life… To grow old… To meet me… To keep me company… Like you always did from time to time in the past eight years… Always talking to me in the dark… When I was desperate you helped me… So it is normal that I help you… Because I care for you… Like you cared for me…"
"That's false… How can I care for you… And you care for me… If you don't exist… You always talked about magic… About flying brooms… About wands… About Quidditch… About wizards and witches… But nothing of it exists… It is just fantasy… You are a part of my imagination… Just that… An imaginary friend... Created by my imagination… So now… I want you to disappear… Or let me die in peace…"
"You are awful saying those mean things to me… I really care for you… And I exist, like everything I told you… I am not imaginary, because I live… I breathe… I eat… I drink… I sleep… I laugh… I cry… And I hurt too… And when you deny me, my heart and brain hurt… Do you enjoy hurting me… Because I don't enjoy seeing you hurt or hurting you… Quite the contrary… Do you think I feel well when you feel bad… No it's false… Since the first day we talked… I feel a part of what you feel… And now I hurt a lot… So I can only imagine how much you hurt… But don't give up… If you don't do it for you… Do it for me…"
"You're mean… Using such methods… You make me feel awful… Can you make a promise…"
"Yes… As long as it stays in the possible realm…"
"If I don't give up… If I survive… I want to meet you… I want you to become a real friend… Is that possible ?..."
"Yes… It is… You will survive… And one day… We will meet… Become friends… Enjoy life together… Laugh, cry, play, be bored, travel… Everything that you want… I will make you discover my world… And you make me discover yours… We will be the best friends of the world… That is a promise… And I never break a promise…"
"Thank you… For everything… I don't hate you… And I know you did not lie to me… My friend…"
"I'm glad… I have to go now… We can talk later on… Don't give up like you promised… See you…"
"See you…"
Tears began to roll on Lyria's cheeks as she closed her eyes, starting to breathe more heavily. She had decided that she would fight, fight for her life. She had decided that she would live and get better. She decided that even if she had the worst start possible in life, she would brighten her future. However sometimes, fighting hurted more than just doing nothing. With this state of mind, she took charge of the situation at hand.
"Pixi…" She called weakly and within the next seconds she heard the door being opened. "Thank you for being here for me... I want you to help me get better. I need you to tell me everything you can that can help me improve my condition and find someone that can help me get better."
"Mistress Lyria" Cried Pixi. "Pixi will do everything he can to make thy feel better. Pixy will call the Headmaster for help. Pixy will be right back at thine side."
"That's great, I trust you… Put me back to sleep before going out please" Said Lyria from behind her curtains, hidden from the eyes of her servants. He put her back to sleep and apparated away to Hogwarts to search for the Headmaster.
Blue Garden Castle - An hour later
When Pixy apparated back on the grounds of the castle, he was accompanied by the old and powerful wizard that was Albus Dumbledore. The Chief Warlock didn't look surprised to be brought here and he acted like he knew exactly why he was here and what to expect. He walked for the front door that opened before him without having to do it himself as he was in the presence of Pixy. They went directly to Lyria's room in silence, a simple smile on Albus' lips as if he was proud of himself, and to be honest, he was quite pleased with himself at this moment.
If was pretty sure that his research and assumptions were right and had led him to the right conclusion, meaning that he had come prepared and with what he thought would be the remedy to Lyria's sickness and cure for her wounds. He didn't know what quantity would be needed for her to be able to be cured but he had no doubt that he would be able to acquire more of this substance if needed.
They entered the bedroom and were met by the closed curtains of Lyria's bed, the place looked exactly the same as it did the last time he came here a week and a half ago. He cleared his throat and asked Pixy the suspended question that was floating in the room.
"So Pixy, I assume that you asked me to come here for a good reason, don't you ? May I make an assumption ? Good." He said as the house elf nodded weakly, feeling like he had failed his Mistress as he couldn't ease her pain and cure her despite the treatment he had given her. "I assume young Miss Potter is getting worse and worse each day and that the potions are not being effective and she is in a lot of pain at the moment. Am I right ?"
"This bes the truth, Headmaster… Mistress Lyria has not gotten any better, quite the contrary… The potions are not helping in the slightest…" Said the elf completely down. At this answer the Headmaster frowned.
"How can the house elf of House Potter not know about their true nature as vampires ? Was his assumption incorrect ? Has he been given too much credit to small details and ended up making a whole story out of nothing but misleading untold" At this point there was no turning around the point anymore and so he asked the dreaded question.
"Pixy, I need you to be very honest with me. I swear never to repeat what you will tell me now on my magic if it is necessary for you to be able to break your vow of secrecy to your late Masters but it is vital for me to help your new and only Mistress. Is the Potter family a family of vampires ?" When he heard the question, Pixy's eyes grew wide and he had a panicked look in his eyes and his lips were sealed tight as he looked from the bed to him at least five times in a matter of seconds. Then his ears fell to the side of his head and he looked at the ground grasping at the edges of his baby blue tunic and choked on his words.
"The most noble and ancient House Potter bes indeed one of vampires… Pixy bes the worst elf of this House to have their secrets be revealed after six centuries of secrecy and watchful protection of its origins…" He began to sob as if he had given the last stroke to his dying master's family. Dumbledore however sighed in relief and simply patted the head of the old elf and went for the bed taking a small flask from his pocket and it got thrice as big when it was in his hand.
"What a relief, at last Miss Potter will eventually be cured when the right amount of blood to help her regenerate all her wounds will be given to her. I am indeed more confident in her recovery, but she will have to fight for her life and stay strong in order for her system to accept what I suspect to be her first real "meal"… I guess that's how vampires would call it… Anyway I will depart shortly then as my presence is not required anymore." He closed the flask after having forcefully entered its content down Lyria's throat and into her system. A whole liter of blood to start and maybe end her recovery process.
"Thank thy Headmaster sir, thank thy ! Pixy bes grateful for thy help to his Mistress, Pixy will inform thy of any troubles or improvements so that thy can help again the Mistress. Thy will continue to help the young Mistress, won't thy ?" Inquired the old elf as he clinged to the edges of his bright golden and white robe and looked at him with teary eyes.
"Of course Pixy, the health and condition of your Mistress is of utmost importance to me and you can rest assured that I will not stop being there for her even after she gets better if she wants me to stay by her side. Now I must depart as I have a meeting to attend to in London with the Minister for Magic and the Wizengamot." As he said that, he exited the bedroom, crossed the living room and went down the hall and downstairs towards the huge door of the castle.
At the entrance of Bluegarden Castle's ground, the Supreme Mugwump was glad that he could try to repair his mistakes of the past and help her get better with what he brought her today. Unsure about the future of the young lady he had helped, he thought about how he had intended in the past to prepare her to become his bulwark against the terror and his sword again the Dark Lord, with only a limited amount of care for her as a human in his late plan for the Greater Good. Though little did he know that what he had done for the past two weeks for Lyria Potter were the best decisions he ever made in his life, preventing the end of a two thousand years old family and most probably the death of a wonderful child he would come to care for as his own daughter, for his action had not gone unnoticed by the house elf that would be sure to praise his efforts to their Mistress.
End note :
Alright guys that's it for this chapter : 17 862 words.
As you can see I removed some unecessary characters and made sure to smoothen some lines and accentuate more on what I feel more comfortable writting which is world building and character descriptions. I hope the changes didn't change how you viewed the story in the first place and hope you still like it.
For the newcomers I hope this chapter gave you what came here for and that you will stick with me through this rewritting of the story and its continuation when this first task is complete.
That's all I had to say. Hope you have a good day. Bye.