Note:

This is a fun little wish-fulfillment thing that my friend (darienqmk) and I wrote as a bit of an escape from real life. There'll be a series of arcs throughout the story. No canon rehash. Our characters will be powerful but not OP. There'll be a good deal of humor and horror writing. Good Dumbledore, no bashing for anyone.

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Harry's First Year, Part 1

Draco Malfoy stood in front of Harry and Ron, a snide expression on his face.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riff-raff like — ow!"

Harry hid a smile as Draco Malfoy was smacked upside the head so hard he let out a little whimper. Ron was not nearly so subtle and released a snort that earned him a glare from Draco before the blonde boy turned around to face whoever hit him.

Whoever it was, Draco was clearly familiar with them, as he immediately scowled.

"I'm telling father," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

"That you made fun of Harry's dead parents the first day of Hogwarts?" said the girl who had hit him. She had the same white-blonde hair as Draco, but down past her shoulders, and her eyes were pale-blue instead of grey.

One of the Dudley-like boys stepped up to her, but faltered in the presence of another student, dressed in the same blue-trimmed robes as the girl. He seemed to enjoy watching misfortune befall Draco.

"Careful, Crabbe," she said, "you know playing with fire is a bad idea."

"Bugger off, Lyra," hissed Draco, ignoring her friend. "This is none of your business."

"Nonsense," said Lyra. "He's James Potter's kid. I gotta make sure I don't have any competition as the Ravenclaw Seeker, don't I?"

Harry blinked in surprise.

"You know about my dad?" he said, cutting off Draco's next words.

"He's famous too, you know." Lyra grabbed Draco by the arm and pulled him roughly out of the compartment. His two goons followed him as he squawked in indignation. Then she shut the door in their faces, including the other Ravenclaw boy.

"Thanks," said the muffled voice from the other side.

Lyra ignored him. "So, Harry — Ronald," she added with a nod. "Don't mind that little demon. He's my brother. I'm trying to keep him out of trouble, but I think he's feeling a bit superior after he found himself two minions. I'm Lyra by the way."

"Hold on," said Ron. "Lyra — yeah, I've heard of you! Fred and George have talked about you sometimes." He couldn't quite hold back his grimace. "Didn't know you were a Malfoy, though."

Lyra gave a light shrug. "I didn't ask to be born. I'm quite displeased about it, actually."

Ron and Harry glanced at each other and decided to ignore that comment.

"I'm Harry," said Harry, giving an awkward smile.

"Cool," said Lyra, and that was that. She took him in, but it wasn't in the way others did when they were being amazed at his name and scar; she seemed fascinated in a different way, and not just regarding him, Harry, but also Ron.

"So — Seeker?" Ron asked, an excited light in his eyes. "You've flown against my brothers, then."

"The twins, yeah." Lyra hummed, then scowled. "And Charlie. Ugh."

Ron nudged Harry with a proud grin on his face. "He was the best seeker Gryffindor's ever seen. And he could play as Chaser if they were missing one, too."

Harry had no idea what the significance of that was, but Ron did seem proud of his brother and not wanting to take away from that, he put on a smile and nodded.

Lyra shook her head. "I could never beat him." She clapped her hands together then. "But he's gone now! That makes me the best Seeker in Hogwarts — ha." Then she looked at Harry, her excitement fading. "Hey, Harry, if my brother challenges you to something with a broom, don't —"

The door was thrown open to reveal Hermione again, dragging the Ravenclaw boy in from earlier.

"Oh, how exciting!" said Hermione. "Ravenclaw is a really attractive choice, isn't it? Part of me's hoping to be sorted into Gryffindor. I read in Hogwarts: A History that the headmaster was sorted there —"

"I really wish I had gone there. Then I wouldn't have to spend so much time around this one," said the boy, jerking a thumb at Lyra.

Lyra waved a dismissive hand hard at the Ravenclaw. "Gryffindor is full of loud idiots. Ravenclaw is bliss." She threw an arm around Hermione's shoulder. "The smell of books from the library in the common room itself, the quiet, the other studious students. With my tutelage you could —"

"But Gryffindor is where the headmaster comes from," the boy insisted. "And he could wipe the floor with the entire school —"

Lyra threw her other arm out in bewilderment. "What are you doing, man?" She looked back at Hermione. "Don't listen to James. I can teach you great magic, Hermione. And you wouldn't have all your hard-earned points taken away by some Gryffindor idiots who decided catnip was a good gift for Professor McGonagall."

"That was you," said James. "You just framed the twins. And of course you'd measure the value of a human being by their ability to get some arbitrary approval points."

Lyra frowned. "What else would I measure a person by?"

Hermione squirmed under the older girl's half-embrace, clearly no longer comfortable, and Lyra let her go with an apology.

"Their capital, for one," said James. "Their talent at tax evasion. Their faith in God."

Lyra crossed her arms. "What God in particular, James?"

"Satan."

"Okay!" said Hermione, looking at Harry with an amazed look. "Very nice to meet you two, but I will be on my way. I'll see you two at the Sorting, I presume," she added to Harry and Ron.

"We best get going too," said James. He glanced at Ron. "Good luck with the troll."

"What?" breathed Ron, turning pale. "Fred and George weren't lying?"

Hermione opened her mouth, looking incredulously at James, but James cast some spell on the girl to make no words come out of her mouth, and gently guided her out of the compartment as her lips opened and closed in outrage. Lyra followed, telling Hermione about all the magic she could teach her, including how to nonverbally cast the counter to the Silencing Charm.

Ron filled in the silence after.

"How the bloody hell are we supposed to fight a troll before we learn any magic?"

Some months later, Ron and Harry found themselves in an old classroom full of dusty desks and chairs, and a rather fascinating mirror.

"Do you think it shows the future?" asked Ron, eyes shining with excitement in the dark.

"How can it? All my family are dead — let me have another look —"

Their whispered conversation was suddenly interrupted by the door's creaking, and they froze. In a moment of panic, Harry threw the Cloak over the pair of them and they scrambled under the retired desks as footsteps — two pairs of them — made their way to the mirror.

"The Mirror of Erised," a familiar female voice said, in a satisfied tone. "Finally. You know, it wasn't here last week."

"God, it's ugly," a more masculine voice said. "Well, it better be worth scouring the entire castle from top to bottom. You're sure no one's around?"

"Dumbledore's in his office and Harry was in his dorm like ten minutes ago."

"Ten minutes ago —?"

"It's fine. Look. Homenum Revelio."

"Doesn't the Cloak protect against that?"

"Nope. I don't think so. Probably not. Maybe. Whatever. It's fine."

The two fell into bickering.

Harry had not heard these voices in some time, and it took him a moment to recall. The first was the girl that had confronted him on the train, Malfoy's sister if he remembered correctly. The second was her friend, also in Ravenclaw. He had seen them around since then but the two had spent more time talking to Hermione than to both he and Ron combined. And it seemed like Lyra Malfoy knew he had been visiting the Mirror.

"What do you see?" James asked. Harry and Ron's view was blocked by two pairs of legs standing in between them and the mirror. The desk they had taken refuge under creaked dangerously as they leaned on its edge. "Lyra?"

"God herself."

James snorted. "I think I can guess who you're talking about."

Lyra hummed in agreement. "I see her and me on a beach. I'm older. And hotter. God, I look good."

"You have issues."

"It's some tropical place," continued Lyra. "Huge mountains behind us, a beautiful house, a dog — oh yeah, two dogs. I think I see a magical garden back there too. Yeah, and a hippogriff. Two of them, actually. Oh, and other creatures."

"And your family doesn't factor into this at all?" said James. "Narcissa would be shocked, truly. Maybe she'll need me to comfort her if she found out about this."

"You know, people say I'm prettier than she was at my age," said Lyra, "so every time you make some joke about fucking my mother, you're more or less inflating my ego."

Ron and Harry glanced at each other awkwardly.

"Who would ever say you're prettier than Narcissa except Narcissa?"

There was a pause. "People." Another small stretch of silence. "Shut up, James."

James chuckled. "Bet you have a magical hemp farm too."

"Probably," said Lyra, seriously. "I can't wait to try magical drugs. Can't believe I let you talk me out of it. At least wait til you're older," she said in a mocking tone.

"You'll be interfering with your growth. You'll thank me when you don't end up with anger issues and memory problems," James said, before softening his tone. "I hope you can find this island. I'd like to visit someday."

Lyra made a noise of noncommitment. "You can have the other side of the island. What about you? What do you see?"

James shifted. "Me? I see myself holding up a pair of heavy woolen socks."

Lyra made a disgusted sound. "You need them thicker to absorb all your —?"

James smacked Lyra on her arm and Ron stifled his mouth with his hands. Harry hoped he wasn't choking on anything.

"Promise not to judge," said James.

"No." Lyra waited a beat. "All right, I promise."

"I'm successful," James said. "Looks like I've written some books, based on my own little adventures, and I'm quietly living off the money I got. I'm not lacking anything. It looks like a mountaintop cabin, with a fireplace near the center and a bed with lots of knitted quilts on it in the corner. There's someone sleeping underneath the covers, but I can't make out who."

"Could only be a hag."

"Wait, no. She's got blonde hair, bit darker than yours, and blue eyes… she kinda looks like you, actually —"

There was a sudden choking sound, and Harry was sure Lyra was attempting to strangle James. Through the wheezing Harry could hear James' laughter and Lyra's curses. Harry and Ron looked at each other again, this time with wide eyes.

Should we do something? Ron mouthed.

"I'm going to kill you!" hissed Lyra. "Lay a finger on my mother, and no one will ever find your body I swear to God —"

"Mummy dearest would be so upset if you did," choked out James through his laughter.

"Ugh." Lyra panted for a moment, then it seemed as if she slapped James on the back of his head. "It's disgusting that I'm the one viewed as the bigger asshole of the two of us." One of the two coughed, probably James, and then Lyra said, "Still can't believe we got this lucky. I mean, I miss my friends and family, but man, this place is great. Especially if all that in the Mirror can come true."

"One day," James said. "We have magic, after all."

"Yeah..." said Lyra, sounding unsure.

"What's bothering you?" The desk above them creaked again as James turned to face Lyra fully. "Oh, please don't tell me you're brooding on that again." There was a beat of silence. "Lyra."

"It's fine," said Lyra, sounding a bit defensive. "I don't want to talk about it now."

"You're certainly thinking about it, at least," James said with a sigh.

"Well, no one can hear my thoughts, can they? Except, you know — you know who. Which is exactly why we should avoid him," said Lyra in the same tone Ron used when he said 'Checkmate,' light yet firm.

"I don't want to talk about it now," James mocked. "You always do this. I've repeatedly told you that I disagree with you. I've repeatedly listed out the reasons why. The only reason you don't want to talk about it is because you know I'm right."

"No," said Lyra, drawing the word out. "You just want to take the comfortable, easy route. We can save everyone while still getting what we want."

"Dumbledore would be able to solve almost everything with minimal risk," James said in a long-suffering tone. "Where's the guarantee that we'd succeed in his place? I'm not trying to deny you your ideal future, Lyra, but I'm not going to potentially risk innocents for it."

Harry jerked, having until then been paying only half-attention underneath the surprisingly soft fabric of the invisibility cloak. He accidentally elbowed Ron in the ribs, which caused him to flinch as well. They held their breaths in silence, hoping their error went unheard.

Lyra took a deep breath and said carefully, "We don't need to risk innocents. We can play it smart, if you would just trust me. In one fell swoop, I took out three years of problems. No rat, no dementors, no resurrection, no bitch in pink." She accentuated each one with a hard tap on the table. "If we tell Dumbledore and he decides to read my mind, I might as well declare myself the Dark Lady in the Great Hall. After Grindelwald and Riddle, do you really think he'll give me the benefit of the doubt? Me, the daughter of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy?"

Harry's surprise rapidly gave way to a mixture of anger and fear. Was Lyra being serious? And if she was — was she powerful enough, skilled enough, to find him even under this cloak? Beside him, Ron's eyes were wide.

"Then don't call yourself a Dark Lady," James said dryly.

"If I don't play it carefully, they'll call me that anyway," said Lyra seriously, "and I'll lose all support before I even get a chance to gain any. We're talking about changing the world, James."

"You're talking about changing the world," James said. "I am talking about playing it safe, making minimal changes so we can accurately predict the future. My plans don't involve complete upheavals that actively risk innocents."

"Oh, come on, James," she said. "Don't tell me we just got lucky. There has to be a reason for this all. And I don't believe it's to live a normal life. It's not like we were saints before and all this is our reward."

"Maybe I just got hit by a truck and all this is a fever dream."

"Okay," said Lyra shortly. "Then you shouldn't have a problem with whatever I do, if it's all fake." She threw her arms out to the side in exasperation. "Seriously, man. Yeah, you're right, it's risky and stupid and we're both kind of morons so it could all go horribly wrong, but we're not talking about risk for no reward — the reward would be saving countless innocents. Are you really going to claim the moral high ground while ignoring the good we could do, the innocent lives we could save?"

There was a long moment of silence. Harry had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. Was there some magical threat out there he hadn't heard about, something as bad as Voldemort?

Then Lyra sighed. "Look. Either we take the easy route, save some few hundred or thousand by telling Dumbledore, or we take the riskier route and possibly save millions. Billions, maybe, if the reports on climate change are accurate. We force change," she said vehemently. "Stop pollution, end world hunger, prevent wars —"

"Lyra…" interrupted James. "We can do both, you know. We can let Dumbledore handle the immediate problems. We can do what you're proposing when we're older, more experienced."

"With Dumbledore watching my every move?" said Lyra with some small disbelief.

"I'll admit he seems a little too satisfied with maintaining the status quo, but —"

"And by the time I can do anything if I wait, countless will have died in muggle wars and poverty, and don't even get me started on climate change. And it's not like I can do anything now anyway, I have to wait a few years — and do you have any idea how hard that is already? Right now Yugoslavia is being torn apart — my old grandpa was a part of that, and I'm supposed to just — just do nothing?"

"And you've never considered the possibility you might make things worse?" said James. "That maybe mediocre talent in magic might not make up for our lack of experience and wisdom? I don't think you understand the sheer complexity of what you want to undertake —"

"I understand fine," snapped Lyra. "I'm not saying I need to go do something now — I know I'm not good enough yet. But I'm not waiting until I'm thirty, and I'm not going to risk having Dumbledore stick his ridiculous nose into my brain." She sighed. "Just — look. Look into the Mirror. Do I have to remind you what you saw? How much further do you think this adventuring career of yours will go, if your first entanglement was with the legendary monster of Slytherin? Or to do with Nicolas Flamel's famous Stone?"

James snorted. "You're manipulating me," he said blandly.

"Yeah," said Lyra shamelessly. "Are you happy in that Mirror? You could have that, you know. So could I. We could be happy. That would be our reward for making the world happy." She took a deep breath again. "I'm willing to take that gamble. Gamble — gamble what, even? Wormtail being out of the picture throws the whole plot out the window. We probably don't even have to do anything."

Harry's curiosity burned so hot against his chest he had to bite his fist to stop himself from yelling out questions at the both of them.

"All right," said James at length. "Fine. I'll go along. I can see I'm not going to change your mind anyway. But if the future is even slightly worse from what it needs to be, we should be getting Dumbledore's help. I refuse to sacrifice lives or livelihoods for the 'Greater Good' if we could've avoided it." And without another word, he turned on his heel and made for the door. But then Lyra called after him, a desperation in her voice.

"It can't be for nothing, James."

He stopped in the doorway and said nothing.

"If it was meant to be your way," she said, "then why am I here?"

James remained silent for another moment.

"If something thought to bring you here, for whatever reason," he said finally, "I hope you won't ruin the opportunity by being reckless."

The door creaked as James exited, and it shut softly with a thump.

"Well, I'm definitely incapable of that," Lyra muttered to herself. Then she sighed and stood there for a moment. Harry wasn't sure if she was looking into the Mirror. Eventually, though, she left too.

As soon as the door fell shut with a soft click, Harry and Ron finally took in deep breaths. Their conversation had been long, but also highly enlightening. Lyra's plan for the future was too much to process right now, but he hadn't missed the use of Nicolas Flamel's name. But even that seemed too much to process with everything that had been said.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "What was all that about? I didn't understand half of it. And would it have killed them to finish quicker?"

Harry could only hum in response, thinking of something else. Lyra had referred to herself as a Dark Lady, and was avoiding Dumbledore. That alone was something that should prove her untrustworthiness in his eyes, and yet, her fiery passion about saving innocents was not something an evil witch would have cared about. Her main goal seemed to be saving lives, but perhaps in a manner that Dumbledore would disagree with; certainly in a way James disagreed with.

But why would Dumbledore disagree with it? What did Lyra mean, — who did Lyra think brought her here, and where was 'here' in the first place? Who was — what was it, Worm-something? There was so much said in the conversation that Harry couldn't even remember half of it already.

"Should we tell someone about it?" Harry said finally.

"I think we should," said Ron seriously. "Maybe Hermione."

"What about Dumbledore?"

"I... I don't know, Harry," said Ron. "I'm not sure what they were talking about, really. And Malfoy — Lyra, that is — she doesn't seem bad. What if Dumbledore doesn't take us seriously, or it's not serious, and then she curses us or something? Fred and George said she's 'ruthless' whenever they annoy her too much."

"That doesn't really help," said Harry slowly.

Ron shrugged and gave an uneasy smile. "We can just ask Hermione. She spends a lot of time with her, teaching Hermione magic and whatnot. And Hermione's muggle-born, mate. And James is too. And you've seen how the Slytherin Malfoy looks at both of them."

"Yeah," Harry muttered. "I don't know... She's still hiding stuff from Dumbledore. And she knows about Nicolas Flamel. And my Cloak! And that we might be here tonight." He frowned, unable to think of any possible explanations for any of this, except for some unknown dark magic.

Ron shook his head slowly. "My brain hurts."

"Ron," said Harry, "you don't know if there's a way to tell the future, do you?"

He frowned. "You mean like Divination? Mum's been trying for years to convince Ginny that it's not real."

They stared at each other for a moment. But there was no point wondering now — they just didn't know enough. They'd have to talk to Hermione if they wanted to get anywhere. Harry crawled out from under the desk, his knees creaking a bit, and they shuffled back to Gryffindor Tower.