xii

12

I N C E N D I O

( in - SEN - dee - oh )

" conjures flames "

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IT WAS ONE of those days when everything seemed right, Lyra curled against Cedric in the Hufflepuff Common Room. The early morning rays of sun pooled over her features, highlighting strands of hair to look like honey held to the light.

A gentle breeze made loose strand of her hair float across her freckle kissed skin. Her eyelashes tickled her cheeks when her eyes would flutter momentarily. Her soft lips parted slightly, the remanence of cherry lipgloss glittered on her bottom lip.

Professor Sprout has taken the sleeping girl into consideration when it came to address the fourth years and up. She brushed away grey ringlets from her eyes and smiled at the students with rosy cheeks.

"Now, because of the Triwizard Tournament," she paused as the room quietly cheered for Cedric, "Yes, yes. Over the Christmas holidays, Hogwarts shall be holding a ball on Christmas Day. Fourth years and above are welcome to attend."

Lyra let her eyes snap open, her gaze on Professor Sprout who knowingly looked back at her. "Younger students can attend with an older partner." She winked at Lyra.

The room broke into whispers of excitement, like a swarm of bees huddled on a flower. Professor Sprout waved cheerily, her worn dragon-hide gloves sent a smile to Lyra's face.

"So, a ball?" Lyra smiled, rubbing her tired eyes, "Have fun, Ced!"

He seemed to be caught up in a thought, one of those thoughts you could taste in the tip of your tongue.

"Come with me?" He smiled, his teeth sparkled. "I want you to be there."

She rolled her eyes, pushing herself to stand. "Ask your girlfriend, muppet. It's only fair!"

Cedric huffed and hit to her feet, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. The pair wandered from the Common Room and headed towards breakfast in the Great Hall.

An eerie silent drifted over the students when Lyra and Cedric walked in, laughing about a prior joke. Whispers came from all direction of the Hall.

Lyra looked towards her uncle who seemed to be ready to pounce on Cedric any second. She furrowed her brow in confusion at him and skidded to sit beside Blaise.

"What's happened?" Lyra asked, buttering a piece of toast, "Feels like everyone's watching me."

Theo tossed a copy of the Daily Prophet in her direction. Blaise and Draco had ever-growing smirks plastered on their faces. Lyra swallowed thickly and her eyes widened at the front page.

TRIWIZARD CONTESTANT CEDRIC DIGGORY'S SECRET LOVE, SORRY LADIES.

Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff student of Hogwarts, was pictured with girlfriend after his success in retrieving the golden egg in his first Triwizard task. The couple is pictured below in a (not so innocent) embrace.

Lyra Fairfax, 14, has been repeatedly spotted with Cedric Diggory, along with the fourth contestant, Harry 'The Boy Who Lived' Potter. The young and beautiful Miss Fairfax has been seen with both on multiple occasions getting cozy and more than friendly.

A loyal girlfriend? A secret love affair? Or a gold-digging muggleborn?

Find out more on pages 2-5.

Her magic was crackling like soft static, her fingers shook against the pages as she re-read the last lines over and over until she had reached boiling point. The paper was crumpled in the corners due to the grip of her whitening knuckles.

"Lyra!" Blaise shouted, bringing her back to reality.

Her hands were burning against the paper, all of her anger seem to be radiating towards them. On a quick glance, she noticed the Daily Prophet had been set alight. That was, in fact, burning her hands.

She hissed through her teeth, clenching her eyes shut. Lyra tentatively opened one eye to glance at her, no doubt, frazzled hands. The were perfectly pristine, not even a spot of red from the fire. The veins in her hand seemed to be on fire, however.

"Stupid, stupid woman," She groaned, leaving the paper in a pile of ash on the floor. "If I was a gold digger all I'd need to do is drop my pants for Malfoy!"

"I had hoped I'd never hear something like that come from you, Lyra." A voice said, clearly disturbed by her comment.

Lyra dropped her head into her folded arms, silently praying for the ground to swallow her whole. She felt her hair being pulled to the nose of her neck, a ribbon expertly tied around it.

"Uncle, don't mind me," She bashed her head against her arms repeatedly, "Just thinking of the multiple ways to murder Rita Skeeter. I've got twenty seven, care to contribute?"

"Poison?" He offered in his usual drawl.

She pulled small baby hairs to frame her face, sputtering when a few got caught on her bottom lip that bore a berry coloured gloss.

"I'm thinking more, death by hydrogen peroxide, blonde hair dye?" Lyra plastered on an innocent look. "I'm sure Malfoy might have some spare."

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Time had melted away like treacle in the weeks before the Christmas break. It had become Lyra's favourite season rapidly, Winter. The Whomping Willow was dusted with patchworks of snow which violently fell on students who got too close. The Hufflepuffs has already decorated for Christmas, a large tree with exclusively yellow and white ornaments was erected in a corner of the Common room.

A vast amount of students were gathered in the Great Hall, each sat in a contagious silence as Professor Snape peered over them. Lyra sat beside Fred and George Weasley, attempting to get her Potions essay done whilst the two made strands of her hair stand on end.

Ron and Harry sat glumly, staring down at their barley filled parchment. Ron was chewing on his quill like it was a chicken leg, Harry tapped his foot incessantly.

"This is mad," Ron moaned, "At this rate, we'll be the only ones in our year without a date."

Professor Snape pushed Ron's head back towards his work sharply before striding away. Lyra glanced over to see Fred scribbling on a bit of scrap parchment with a tiny pencil. She couldn't make out the grey words.

Ron looked over at his brother once he had read the illusive note. A scowl etched in his features. He thrust the note back to his brother and leaned towards Lyra's side of the table.

"Who are you going with." Ron mouthed to the twins, who had a smug look on his face.

Lyra watched as Fred threw a scrunched ball of paper at the Gryffindor chaser Angelina Johnson. He pointed towards her and then himself. Lyra suppresses her giggles as he pretended to waltz with thin air until she agree with a shy smile.

"Hermione," Ron mused, "You're a girl."

"Oh, Merlin save us." Lyra whispered to Fred and George, pointing towards their oblivious brother.

"Well spotted." Hermione said sarcastically, writing on her parchment furiously.

"Come with one of us?" Ron was only able to mimic Fred for a few fleeting seconds.

Professor Snape hit the Golden Trio with a journal on the upside of their heads. A collective groan from each of them. Lyra caught Harry's eye and giggled, shaking her head at him softly.

"It's one thing for a bloke to show up alone," Ron said with a humours undertone, "For a girl it's just sad."

Fred and Lyra shared a disappointed look. The latter picked up her journal and smacked in against her head in second-hand embarrassment.

"I won't be going alone because, believe it or not, someone's asked me." Hermione seethed, snapping her book shut.

She strutted towards Professor Snape and handed in her essay, steam was almost flowing from her ears and out of her bushy curls, which Lyra happened to be quite jealous of.

"And I said yes!" She snapped, storming away with purpose, leaving Ron beside himself and Lyra, along with the twins, laughing at his pink face.

Ron lent up on his elbows, narrowly missing the unscrewed ink pot. "Lyra, you're a girl too."

"Here we go." George muttered.

"Correct, ten points to Gryffindor." Lyra said monotonously, too busy waiting for the ink to dry on her last sentence.

"Well, it's even more sad you can't come." He clicked his tongue, "Unless, of course, someone asked you."

Her uncle had appeared behind Harry and Ron again, ready to smack his head once more. Lyra gave him a sly smile and signalled for him to wait.

"Is there a question you'd like to ask me, Ron?" Lyra asked in an airy voice.

"Well... I suppose, you could come with me if you want." Ron forced out.

"I'm good, thanks," Lyra rolled her eyes, "I'd rather not come just because you suppose I can."

She closed her black book and packed her supplies away. She nibbles on her bottom lip, a habit she had developed as a child. She winked at the twins and bent towards Harry.

"Do you have a date to the ball yet, Harry." Lyra asked, giving him a closed mouth smile. Her uncle looked aghast.

"Me?" He sputtered, "Oh.. I, erm. Well.. no I-I haven't."

"Really?" She said, raising her eyebrows in a manner that suggests she was hinting at herself.

Fred and George were silently screaming at Harry, vigorously wafting their arms and pointing at Lyra in a far from secretive way.

"Willyouwithme." He rushed out, missing many key words.

Lyra giggled at her reddening cheeks. Ron looked betrayed at Harry and Lyra.

"Will, will you go to the ball with me?" Harry asked, slowly this time.

"I'd be delighted to." She smiled.

Fred and George cheered loudly, clapping their hands and wolf whistling. Lyra leant over to hand her essay to her uncle, his face was not the picture of pleaded.

"Well, it seems I'll be staying here for christmas, Uncle." Lyra giggled. "You should ask people nicely, Ronald."