viii

08

O  C  U  L  U  S    R  E  P  A  R  O

( OCK - you - liss    reh - PAH - roy )

" to repair glasses "

_______________

HARRY HAD SPENT the past week exclusively with Lyra or Hermione. The former had become an owl between Harry and Ron during their period of silence — which swiftly ended when Lyra exploded at Ron on accident.

Harry and Lyra were hidden away in the library, finishing a nine foot essay for Professors Moody. Mad-eye still had an odd fascination with both Harry and Lyra, the girl assumed it was because they sat beside each other. However, whenever she spotted Mad-eye he would always share an unnerving glance with her.

"You believe me, don't you?" Harry whined, "I didn't put my name into that death trap."

Lyra dropped her quill into the communal pot of ink. "Harry, I know you'd never do something like that." She smiled, squeezing his arm affectionately.

The two shared a friendly smile before turning back to their almost completed essay. Lyra occasionally chewed on the end of her quill, which left her sputtering out small broken feathers.

Harry listened to her mutter under her breath, but only when she didn't understand something. She would whisper it over and over until she understood. Her wand was holding her ginger hair in a haphazard bun that was close to unraveling.

"Sunshine." A voice called from behind her.

Lyra span around sharply, her glasses slid from her face onto the stone ground. Her wand rattled alongside them. She snatched her glasses from the floor, murmuring "Oculus Reparo."

Fred Weasley stood with a smug smile on his face, waving Lyra wand in the air. She rose from her seat with a disapproving stare as she tried to stop her lips from curling into a grin.

"Ready, Fred?" George asked with a wink.

"Ready, George!"

The pair set off running from the library, Lyra wand aloft in Fred's grip. Lyra gave Harry a tight lipped smile and took off after the twins.

Her heavy footfalls resonated through the stone corridors. Lyra only made it down three corridors before completing giving up. She harshly sucking in deep breaths. She could hear George calling her name in the distance — or maybe it was Fred.

Lyra pushes herself onto the window ledge and watched passing students. Three large, muscular and somewhat frightening men were cheering on Victor Krum — who was heading towards her.

"Hello again." He smiled confidently.

"Hi." Lyra said after an awkward silence, "Do you need something?"

The older student reached for Lyra's hand and brought it to his lips. Her face flushed at the contact, but she wasn't drooling like any other girl would be. She politely took her hand from his grip and settled it in her lap.

"Will you show me the grounds, pretty girl?" He flirted, winking at her.

Lyra blinked at him silently, calculating her reply. She adorned a coy smile which seemed to impress the Quidditch player. Lyra twirled a strand of her hair like Pansy Parkinson would when she saw Draco.

"Are you going to kiss me if I do?" She she's in a voice that made her insides cringe.

Krum was taken aback by her forward answer, but compared himself quickly. "Most certainly."

Lyra swiftly dropped the coy, love sick act and wore an unimpressive, impassive expression. She slid from the window ledge. "I'm fourteen."

Lyra held back her laughter when Victor stumbled over his feet to move away from her. She waved goodbye at him and his friends, giggling down the hallway.

_______________

Potions was by far the best lesson of Lyra's day.  It was one of those weeks when she would carry around her notebook, tallying each time she was deemed a mudblood, or filthy. Forty two, so far. It was only just after lunch.

Altercations with Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Blustrode gave her twenty seven. Crabbe and Goyle earned her ten. Students from Drumstag shouted three at her.

Draco had amounted the other two.

The majority of the fourth year potions class had become utterly confused as to why Lyra still occasionally used her quill when brewing the Pepper-Up potion.

"You're doing it wrong, Mudblood." Draco sneered, Lyra's body went rigid for a soul second before she added on more to the tally.

"By all means, Malfoy, show me how." Lyra replied in a calm manner.

Draco snatched the glass rod from her grip and stirred the concoction in the opposite direction, which was in fact the correct way.

"Miss Fairfax, a quill and book is not required in this lesson." Snape drawled from the front of the class.

"I know." She said, feeling twenty pairs of eyes on her.

Severus Snape stalked towards the desk, Draco had insisted they remain on the very back desk. All the students ignore their potions and watched what that assumed would be a detention for the girl. Snape extended his hand to silently tell Lyra he wanted the book.

"Sir." She began, "How many times have you been called Mudblood this week? Or filthy and not worthy of magic?"

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow at her statement, his face stoic. Lyra could see Hermione flinch at the question. The Hufflepuff lost her smile.

"Not once." Snape said sharply, "That is not the matter at hand, Fairfax."

Lyra scoffed lightly, "Forty three times in one week. Every single one beside three were from Slytherins."

She waved the book in her uncle's face, showing the forty three lines that varied in size. Hermione looked utterly heart broken. "Twenty eight." Hermione called out. "Twenty eight this week."

The room held an uncomfortable aura, a few pure bloods from other houses looked disappointed, the Slytherin pure bloods wore it like a badge. Draco carried on with the potion, trying to ignore the conversation.

"That's what we deal with every day." Lyra said in an airy voice, "My potions partner here," She gestured towards the platinum blonde pureblood, "called me a mudblood, like, a minute ago. I'm sick of it."

Her uncle fought to keep his face neutral, when all he wanted was to tell her it wasn't true, that she is worthy of magic. But he couldn't. "Can I finish my potion now, Professor?"

He nodded once and walked away.

Draco took the quill from beside their cauldron and scratched three more inked lines on the page, Lyra watched in confusion.

"Pansy said it this morning." He mumbled and turned his attention back to the simmering liquid.

"Why am I not surprised." Lyra said through an exhale.

"It'll never stop, you know." He sighed, bottling the potion, his brows furrowed in concentration.

Lyra forgot to reply, she was too immersed in his features. His eyes were reduced to slits and his eyelashes appeared longer than her own. His tongue poked from his lips when he carefully poured the liquid into a bottle.

"Fairfax." He coughed, making her jump slightly. "Checking me out?" He smirked.

She scoffed, her face dusted a light pink that only he could see. "I'd say no, but I'm afraid to bruise your astronomically large ego."

He scowled at the girl, which only made her chuckle at how easily his mood could change. "Only joking, it's only unbelievably large."

"Sunshine!" Blaise guffawed, "I don't wanna know that my mate is 'unbelievably large' keep it in the bedroom."

Lyra stood with her jaw hung open and her eyes bulged. She couldn't find the words as Blaise and Draco laughed at the insinuation. Her cheeks were on fire as she stuttered over a few words.

"You're just jealous I'm in his bedroom and not yours, Zabini." Lyra blew the Slytherin a kiss. It was Blaise's turn to looked shocked while Malfoy doubled over with a belly-aching laugh.