iii

03

A C C I O

( AH - kee - oh )

" summons desired object "

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THE GREAT HALL was alive with the buzz and chatter of students after the Sorting Ceremony. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw claimed fifteen, Hufflepuff gained seven and Slytherin received four. Before anyone could even think about inhaling the copious amount of food on the tables, Professor Dumbledore tapped him wand on the lectern, getting everyone's attention.

After a brief interruption from Argus Filch - the resident care taker - Dumbledore finally announced the events that would take place over the up and coming year.

"Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event, The Triwizard Tournament." Dumbledore announcement.

"What in Helga's name is that?" Lyra whispered to Cedric, who was seated beside her.

"No doubt Professor D is about to tell everyone." Cedric pointed back towards the headmaster.

"The Triwizard Tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests." Dumbledore continued to inform the students about the Tournament, but Lyra didn't listen, her goblet was far too interesting.

When the doors to the Great Hall busts open, revealing a flurry of girls in blue, her attention was soon turned to them. She watched as the witches ran down the aisle between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor table, releasing blue butterflies as the floated past.

"Is that drool I see, Cedric?" Lyra teased, pretending to wipe away nonexistent drool from her friends chin.

A collective rumble of laughter sounded from the small section of the Hufflepuff table over Lyra's joke. The giggles died in their throats when the doors of the Hall opened once more, revealing the students of Drumstrag and the Headmaster Igor Karkarov.

Burly men with shaved heads wandered into the hall, aggressively bashing the floor with their sticks, sending sparks flying. Their entrance was the antithesis of the Beauxbatons. This time around, it was the girls who gawked are the boys walking past.

"Blimey, that's Viktor Krum!" A voice at the end of the table said.

Lyra watched the professional Quidditch player walk beside his Headmaster, revealing in all the girls that stared at him with mushy eyes. Lyra included.

"Need any help picking your jaw up off the floor, Sunshine?" Cedric got his payback. Lyra swotted his arm.

"Are you really going to enter, Ced?" Lyra mumbled.

A handful of Hufflepuff had decided to relax in their common room after the feast. Lyra was curled up on a brown armchair beside the fire, her hands were hidden inside the sleeves of Cedric's quidditch jumper.

Ben Copper and Cedric occupied the other two armchairs, welcoming the fire's warmth. "Of course he is!" The former exploded.

"Ced, you could die!" Lyra reminded him in a sympathetic voice.

"Yeah," Cedric shrugged his shoulders, "but imagine how cool it'll be when I win."

Lyra huffed like a child, she couldn't argue with him. All she could think was that when he won, she would be so proud.

The night soon leaked into the early hours of the morning. There was only Cedric and Lyra left in the dimly lit common room. The two were looking over the list of underprivileged and poor children, figuring out what to get them on their birthdays.

"Ced." Lyra whispered, her head resting against his shoulder, "Promise me you'll think about it. Not doing the tournament."

Cedric moved his hand through Lyra's red locks calmingly. "I'll think about it, Sunshine."

_______________

By the morning, Lyra was walking through the castle with a spring in her step. The September air nipped at her exposed skin. Her robe was folded neatly across her arm, letting the breeze attack her. A Slytherin scarf hung loosely around her neck.

Ron choked on his pumpkin juice when Lyra walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. Blaise and Theo hollered, which earned them twenty deducted points from Professor Snape. Even though she wore a Hufflepuff tie and Slytherin scarf, she dropped down beside Ginny Weasley at the Gryffindor table.

"Morning," Fred smiled, pulling her into a tight hug.

Harry and Ron were speechless. Harry opened his mouth, only to shut it again.

"What's with the scarf, Sunshine?" George questioned before shovelling a section of jam covered toast into his mouth.

"Oh," Lyra laughed, taking a red apple from a bowl, "It's Malfoy's."

"You're wearing Malfoy's scarf!" Ron called out, spraying mash onto the table.

His shocked statement resonated through the Great Hall, both students and teachers turned to look at the girl. Lyra went wide eyed, shielding her face from onlookers. Her pale skin had turned strawberry red.

"Why've you're got Malfoy's scarf?" Harry asked carefully.

"It-it's a long story." Lyra sighed.

"Miss Fairfax." A voice drawled.

The group of Gryffindors - and Lyra - and turned to see their potions master, Professor Snape. "Get lost on your way to the Hufflepuff table?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"You know me, sir." Lyra smiled sweetly.

He curled his lip in amusement before handing Lyra a sheet of parchment. Lyra glanced over her new timetable, comparing it to Ginny's and Hermione's.

"We have potions together?" Hermione whispered with glee. "And Defence Against the Dark Arts."

The Hufflepuff pushed away from the Gryffindor table and glided towards the Slytherin table, watching the students whisper as she passed.

Professor Snape was stood at the head of the table, conversing with Draco Malfoy and Goyle. Lyra smiled brightly at the Professor, taking a seat beside Malfoy.

"Nice scarf." Goyle sneered, "Mudblood."

Lyra cringed, clenching her jaw. "Professor, I seem to be in fourth year lessons."

"No mistake, you've been moved up in two classes." Professor Snape smiled, "Now, Mr. Malfoy will escort you to your class."

Malfoy groaned loudly, dropping his head onto the table. Snape smirked at Lyra before whacking the back of Malfoy's head with a hard back book. Draco mumbled something under his breath before snatching an apple from the Slytherin table.

"Get a move on," He hissed, "mudblood." The last phrase was significantly quieter.

The Weasley twins each gave Lyra a thumbs up before acting like juveniles - they each turned their backs to Lyra, and like children, pretended to kiss an invisible person, running their own hand up and down their backs. Lyra let out a soft chuckle before skidding out of the Great Hall on Draco Malfoy's tail.

The pair walked in silence, Lyra made sure to keep a few steps behind. Other students looked at the two as though they had each grown four heads. The silence encapsulated the two, squeezing them tightly.

"I want my scarf back." Draco said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"And I would like mine back, please." Lyra answered, a mischievous grin dawned her face, "Although, I might keep this one. I've always thought green was my colour."

Draco clenched his jaw, picking up his pace. Lyra stumbled and sped to his side, earning his famous sneer. "What are you even going in our class, you're supposed to be with the third years, firing spells at dummies and watching people crawl out of cabinets."

Lyra scoffed before laughing in confusion, "People climb out of cabinets?" Draco raised his eyebrow, looking at the girl with a smirk.

"Boggarts." Draco said, "What's yours?" He questioned, an intrigued glint flickered in his eyes.

Lyra glanced down towards the stone floors, suddenly finding the green granite interesting. "Don't know." She replied in a meek voice, feeling a pang of shame for some unknown reason.

Draco smirked, "I'd tell you mine but I never participated with those boggarts, that whole lesson was bloody ridiculous."

A dulcet laugh swarmed to Draco's ears. Lyra was shaking her head at his feeble, yet quite hilarious, joke.

"You know." Lyra started, a few feathery laughs occasionally slipping from her tongue, "When you're not being a prat, you're actually quite funny."

The tips of Draco's ears tinged pink, Lyra didn't notice - she was too busy remembering the joke so she could tell Cedric at lunch. Nobody had ever found Draco's jokes funny, not even Pansy cracked a shrill laugh at his humour. The Slytherins only ever laughed if it was an insult. Lyra laughed at his joke and for a second, just those fleeting seconds when she laughed, he didn't feel the constant emptiness in his chest.