xvii

17

R  E  V  E  L  I  O

( reh - VEL - ee - oh )

" to reveal "

_______________

LYRA WALKED IN between Theo and Blaise on the way to the Dungeons. The two had cornered her at lunch and demanded she spend more time with them after almost loosing her the month before.

"We'll be getting our written exam back." Lyra closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh.

"Shut up, Sunshine," Theo quipped, "You always get top marks in Potions, you even beat out know-it-all Granger."

Lyra backhanded his upper arm at the nickname from her friend. She narrowed her eyes and donned a playful glare.

"If anyone should be worried, it should be him," Blaise pointed to Malfoy, who was walking ahead with Crabbe and Goyle.

Lyra furrowed her brows and tightened her grip around the potions text book wrapped in her arms. "Push my glasses up for me?"

Blaise grinned and slid the metal frame back up her nose, "His fathers going metal, all about muggle-horns being smarter than him. It's really got to him this time. All he wants is his dad to be proud of him."

"That's heartbreaking!" Lyra squeaked, a shocked expression on her face.

Blaise hung back in the classroom doorway beside her, he clicked his tongue, "Being a pure blood isn't as good as we make it out. Shit ton of pressure on us all."

She shuffled over to the desk, sliding into the seat beside Malfoy. There was always undiscussed tension in the Potions classroom; everyone was able to feeling if they did so little as glance at Lyra and Malfoy.

They hadn't spoken since Christmas day, Draco had reverted back to his old self after Lyra had finally seen a tiny change in him. They had exchanged. total of seven words since, all spoken in the space of thirty seconds when Lyra was rushed to the Hospital wing.

"You alright?"

"Just almost died, I'm positively perfect."

Snape stood with a pile of parchment paper on the corner of his desk, their previous surprise test. Lyra had always had a natural talent for Potions — especially with Severus Snape for a uncle.

"As always, top of the class gets one hundred house point," Snape drawled, "second get seventy five, and third get fifty. The rest of you, try harder."

"He's a barrel of laughs today." Lyra scoffed under her breath in a sarcastic tone.

He reached for the top sheets of the pile, holding the whole class in suspense. Everyone knew who would be award which points, it was the same every time they received their tests.

Lyra traced patterns on the soft wooden table with her finger, usually she would trace ancient runes or beautiful Latin words she kept in her vocabulary. However for the past few weeks, her hand would choose its own shapes to draw. The Peverell coat of arms (that was what it was named in the text book). A triangle, a circle and a line down the middle, the pattern would become monotonous and corning after a while.

"Top of the class," Snape drawled, "Miss Fairfax, as always."

Her test appeared in front on her, scratched in mundane handwriting was an 'O' for Outstanding her percentage — one hundred and ten percent — was inked below.

Draco received his parchment next, only three percent away from Lyra's score. Hermione was third with thirteen percent less that Lyra and ten percent below Malfoy, which didn't sit well with her.

Draco seemed to look longingly at Lyra's paper, only to glare daggers at his own. She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, harsher that she planned, and picked up the same quill and ink she used for the test a week prior.

She flicked onto the middle page, looking for questions worth one or two marks. When nobody was looking, she changed her answer under 'Ingredients in a Wit-Sharpening potion' knocking a mark off her score. Lyra changed three more questions after making sure nobody had caught on.

Professor Snape finished his ramble about the importance of potions in the wizarding world, decided today to include a double chorus of, 'You must all revise more, your scores are appalling.'

Lyra slipped her ink pot and quill back into her bag while everyone was too preoccupied with seeing which questions they got incorrect. After letting the ink dry on her altered answers she raised her hand, holding onto the sleeve of her Hufflepuff robe so it didn't slide down.

"Yes, Miss Fairfax?" Snape asked loudly.

"You see, Professor," Lyra started, digging her nails into her thigh to stop herself from stuttering, "I've just checked my marks, and... well you've marked my paper wrong. I got one hundred and five percent not one hundred and thirteen."

It was an unnerving silence that leaked across the classroom, everyone knew Lyra was the best at Potions — despite being a year below the class.

Her uncle strode over to her desk and snatched the paper from in front of her. Malfoy watched with peaked interest as Snape browsed through her test, Lyra sat fidgeting with her tie.

'I know you've changed the answers, Lyra." Her uncle tapped into her mind.

'Then I assume you know my reasoning and will be at peace with it.' Her voice held a calm, light tone.

He sighed heavily and produced a quill from thin air, he scourgified his previous markings and changed her percentage. Lyra ginned and took her test back.

"Twenty five points from Hufflepuff, twenty five to Slytherin," Snape smirked at Malfoy, "Congratulations, Mr Malfoy, you're the top of the class."

Lyra, along with all the Slytherin smiled at the statement. A small sacrifice once in a while never hurt anybody, especially when someone deserved the praise.

The lesson was to be spent rewriting incorrect answers until they were good enough for Professor Snape. Lyra dug in her bag for a piece of spare parchment, in her neatest handwriting, she wrote 'well done' and slid it over to Malfoy's side of the desk.

He looked over at Lyra, but she purposefully didn't look back, unable to bare the cold sneer she assumed was on his face.

Her note was returned to her backside up. In the most beautiful and delicate handwriting she had ever seen it said 'Thank You.' She grinned at the paper and wrote on her original side.

This time she watched him read her note, his cold face seemed to melt at the words. She imagine it wasn't nearly as fulfilling from her, but to have somebody be proud of you would always be enough for Lyra.

She watched the corners of his lips curl into a small, but extremely rare, smile. She watched from the corner of her eye as he meticulously inked a reply with his quill. Lyra saw his lips upturn as he tried to spell a word she couldn't quite make out.

'I finally bested you.'

She giggled louder than anticipated, drawing a few stares from other students. It was Malfoy's turn to watch her write a reply. He saw the lights in her eyes brighten, her face flushed a pale pink, which was only noticeable up close. She ruffled her hair carelessly, the dimming sun illuminated strands when the fell; the colours ranged from pumpkin juice to honey in the sun.

When she slipped her the note once more, he couldn't help but glance up at her previous words — I'm so proud of you — before looking down at her new one.

Cheeky arsehole, enjoy it at the top because coming from my spot, Ferret-face.

Blaise turned around to speak with Lyra before she could slip Malfoy the next note. She held her conversation with Blaise, who asked her about the proper way to stir Skele-grow, all while finding a way to pass her note.

She stood from the chair to lean over the table at Blaise's test, reading his poor explanation with a sympathetic smile. Lyra outstretched her hand under the desk towards Malfoy. She felt the edge of his cold hand, her skin prickled at the contacted. She forced the note into his hand until she felt Malfoy grip the tips of her fingers.

"You're a lifesaver, Sunshine." Blaise beamed and turned back around to rewrite his essay.

Lyra drummed her fingers on the table, humming a muggle tune that only Hermione knew. She caught the girls eyes, they swayed in time with each other, imagining the song playing in the classroom.

She rested her hands in her lap and fiddled with a loose thread on her skirt. She felt a hand brush against hers, making her jolt in shock. The folded parchment was strategically placed in the palm of her hand.

Good luck with that, Sunshine.

The fluttering in her stomach didn't die down.

_______________

Blaise caught up with Lyra after their two and a half hour Potions lesson, which was filled with notes that now littered Lyra's pockets. Blaise slung his arm around her shoulders as they walked towards the Great Hall.

"I saw what you did for him," Blaise murmured, "You might be sneaky, but I saw you change the answers."

She sighed and lent further into him, she nibbled on her lower lip; not a trace of berry gloss left. Her eyes coated over with a wistful sadness.

"My dad, he's so amazing," Lyra started, "Practically raised me my whole life, and whenever he can, he tells me all about how proud he is of me."

Blaise let out a jealous grunt, "Lucky you."

"Every time he tells me, it makes me feel so warm inside, like sitting by the fire at Christmas," Lyra beamed, "I can't even comprehend how Malfoy must feel."

Blaise pulled her onto a bench in the hallway, letting her head rest on his shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," She rolled her eyes, "In everything I do, I strive for my dad to be proud of me and I almost always get that gratification."

"And this has to do with Drake, because..." Blaise prompted, earning a whack to the chest.

"I don't know about you, but trying every day of the year to please a father who will never be proud of you, I just couldn't sit there and do nothing!" She became quite impassion by the matter.

Blaise played with the ends of her ginger hair, twirling pieces around his finger.

"Imagine being told how you and your blood are so special, but being out down at every turn," Lyra shook her head in disbelief, "Yes, he's an utter prat, but he tries so hard and get little to no recognition for his efforts."

Blaise chuckled, "For someone who was, and sometimes still is, bullied by Drake, you sure do feel sorry for him. Don't you?"

"If giving up top spot in one lousy test, means Malfoy's father is proud of him," Lyra looked at the passing students and finished in a airing voice that would viral Luna Lovegood's.

"I'd give it up in a heart beat, for him or anyone who deserves it."