xv

15

A  S  C  E  N  D  I  O

( ah - SEN - dee - oh )

" to lift caster "

_______________

JANUARY BLUES HAD invaded the school in the form of returning students after the Christmas Holidays. Valentine's had been and gone in a whirl of homework and Library sessions with Harry.

Lyra was hunched over a Herbology text book, rereading the same page over and over through bleary eyes. Her head lolled forwards occasionally, bringing her back to reality with a sharp jerk. Her hair was knotted into a bun with her wand.

"Tell me again, Harry." Hermione ordered, pacing the small isle of the library.

"I've told you already," He sighed, "Come seek us where our voices sound."

Lyra packed away the books sprawled out in front of her and bid goodnight to Harry and Hermione. She slipped out of view when they dropped their heads towards their respective books.

The Restricted Section was on of Lyra's favourite places. Magic hummed thickly in the air, radiating from inside the printed and worn pages. It smelt just like Lyra always through Dark Magic would smell. Leather and black tea, a faint trace of the DADA classroom after the Unforgivables.

Most of the books, Lyra had already read. In her mind, ignoring a whole branch of magic was a fickle way to live, even if it was The Dark Arts.

Tucked away between the pages of old diarys, worn by years of neglect and poor treatment; was where Lyra found Tom Riddle's diary in her first year at Hogwarts.

Her pale finger traced the spines of books delicately, the occasional jolt of magic surged through her arm. A seemingly untouched, leather-bound book drew her eye.

The magic ripples off the cover, prickling against her skin. The Origins of the Dark Arts. The first page had already been written in. A neat black inked name was etched into the paper, along with a date.

Tom Marvolo Riddle 1942

"Shocker." She muttered to herself sarcastically.

A familiar thunking of wood against the stone floor was advancing towards Lyra quickly. She slammed the cover shut, sliding it back into place. She pulled on the book next to it, a once rich green faded to a lingering grey. It was thinner than the previous book; it didn't peak her interest.

"Fairfax," Moody appeared at the head of the isle, "This is the restricted section."

She stumbled over her words, "I-I know, Professor, I just really wanted to read this book."

She waved the small greying book at Professor Moody, the golden title shone brightly at him. Her legs shook as she walked toward him.

"Yes, Salazar Slytherin, His Descendants and their lives'." Lyra resisted the urge to scowl at the book cover.

"Very well," He ushered her towards Hermione, who look beyond confused, "McGonagall wants you in her office. I'll put your book with Severus, Fairfax."

Lyra tripped over her own foot, sending herself into a comedic walk as she regain her balance, "McGonagall's office is near my common room, I'll just nip in and drop it off."

_______________

Cedric never saw Lyra in the common room that morning. She didn't show up for breakfast either. The Professors seemed to have a secretive knowledge of where both Hermione and Lyra were during their Defence Against The Dark Arts Lesson.

When the stands started filling up around the Black Lake, Lyra was a no-show. Daphne was asking if anyone could see her repeatedly; while also scanning the surroundings for her.

"Did you say something to her, by any chance?" Theo questioned Malfoy, "Something that would upset her?"

The blonde student scoffed and gracelessly dropped the bench below him. "No," He spat, "We haven't spoken since the Ball."

"Ahh, yes!" Blaise sighed, wiggling in between Theo and Daphne, "In infamous, 'I-showed-her-weakness-now-I-must-be-emotionless.' Are you fucking stupid?"

"Piss off, Blaise." He scowled, the venom in his voice was clear and apparent.

Time was running away from the Champions. Harry was first to reach the row of 'stolen items.' The floating ginger hair caught his eye first. Lyra was at the end of the row, tied, and in a sleep like state. Her hair had darkened into an burnt orange, whenever sparks went off her hair flashed a honey tone from the light; it was like an autumnal sunset.

Even in a state of semi-consciousness, she held an angelic glow. When Cedric appeared at the line of sleeping students, he did a double take on Lyra, she looked like a mermaid. Not the real creatures that had followed him in the water relentlessly. Lyra was the epitome of what a fantasy mermaid would look like.

Her features became sharper, her pale skin had sunk in from the water pressure; revealing her high cheekbones which held a blue tint. Her freckles looked like stars across the night sky above her bluing cheeks

The 'stolen items' had already been told they would have no awareness underneath the water. Harry turned to look at Cedric who had reluctantly left Lyra's side once he realised Cho Chang was his to save.

He tapped his wrist watch with his wand impatiently, setting off towards the surface after a wave to Harry. The raven hair boy looked around to see if Fleur Delacour was anywhere to be seen.

The merpeople circled around the three, Harry's wand hand itched to set Gabrielle Delacour free from her restraints. Her gave a fleeting glance in Lyra's direction. He was greeted with the sight of her pensive, blue eyes, glazed with fear and panic.

Harry jolted in fear when Lyra struggled against the rope that bound her to the lake bed. The former shot a charm at Gabrielle's robe, letting her drift to the surface calmly.

Everyone in the stands was on edge. They had all soon deduced that it was Lyra Fairfax who was still underwater. Daphne had curled into Theo's side, watching through her hands. Blaise was taping his foot on the floor impatiently. Fred and George, who were sat behind them, notice Malfoy's fists clenched and unclench, the muscle in his jaw would tick sporadically.

In the Blake Lake, Lyra was beginning to loose consciousness. Her eyes would disappeared into the back of her head and then appear again, doused in more fear and growing flecks of pain. Harry tightened his arm around her relaxing body, struggling with breathing himself, he roared 'Ascendio' with the last breath of air he had.

They soared into the air, breaking the water barrier. The two landed harshly on the slippery decking, Harry coughed and sucked air in like every other champion before him. Unlike the stolen items, Lyra didn't gasp for breath.

"Help her!" Harry shouted, bashing his fist against the damp wood.

Professors dropped to their knees beside her, Snape was holding onto her cold hand tightly. Madame Pomfrey knelt beside Lyra's head, she began to administer CPR.

Ginny was being held back by the twin, encased between them in a hug. She was shivering at the thought of loosing Lyra. Cedric was huddled beside Harry, both of them watching with hopeful expressions.

Lyra's chest rose, spurts of water jumped from her mouth. She rolled into her side with help from Madame Pomfrey, coughing up any remaining lake water. The first breath of air was searing and burnt her chest fiercely. She groaned and coughed in long, gut wrenching intervals.

Snape was the only Professor to stay by her as she gasped for air. He moved strands of wet hair from her cheeks and let out the breath he didn't realise he was holding.

"What happened, Potter?" McGonagall asked with vigour.

"She woke up!" He said hoarsely, "One minute she was asleep like the rest of them, the next, she was looking at me and gasping for air."

Harry couldn't get the image out of his head.

McGonagall pursed her lips and walked away, sending the large group of accumulated students back to their seats.

Lyra was loosing the blue of her cheek that was once home to star-like freckles, instead, they were warming to a hue of pink, concealing the stars of her face. She was bundled in two grey blankets, her teeth still chattering.

Lyra was clinging to Harry's side, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist; they shared their three blankets together, hoping to regain their former warmth. He squeezed her tightly, shuffling closer to her and repeating the same two words over and over until Lyra threatened him with a stinging hex.

Minerva looked towards Albus, sighing through her thin lips. She rubbed the aged lines on her forehead and scalded herself.

"I was the one to charm them," She said indignantly, "Personally, I saw that they were untouched."

Albus smiled and took her hands in his, the lines beside his eyes creased. He looked wiser than ever, his eyes twinkled behind his half-moon glasses.

"Miss Fairfax is a powerful witch," He informed, "I have no doubts that she herself, unknowingly, broke the charm."

She scoffed lightly, straightening her posture, "Impossible."

Dumbledore looked over at Harry and Lyra, the two were laughing through chattering teeth, huddling in a quivering hug of trembling limbs.

"Miss Granger," Albus said oddly, "Now she, is the Brightest Witch of her Age."

"Why is that relevant to Miss Fairfax?" McGonagall straightened her glasses.

"Ahh." Dumbledore said, raising his pointer finger, "Did you know Miss Fairfax mastered most first year spells wandlessly and nonverbally by nine. When she arrived, her practical magic was that of advanced fifth years."

Professor McGonagall remained silent, she watched Professor Dumbledore with high interest.

"Miss Fairfax, may just have the skill and potential to be most powerful witch in centuries."