Perfidy | Tom Riddle |

1.

October 1999.

It was cold. Colder than most days since the war had started. Lyra was sitting by a window watching as the rain heavily poured down, following the droplets with her finger one after another.

She had never expected the downfall the wizarding world would have faced after the death of Dumbledore. But then again it leaves her to wonder, if Dumbledore was alive, would the outcome of everything be different, or would have it not mattered.

She looked over at Hermione who was sitting on the opposite end of the room in an awful old armchair staring down onto the floor. They weren't friends, not at Hogwarts and not during the war. But yet they shared a common goal, to kill Voldemort.

The house was quiet, and the silence was maddening. Lyra couldn't take it anymore. She needed to get away from all the anger, the sadness, the pain. She needed an escape just for a short while.

"Where are you going?" Hermione gently spoke, her gaze still on the floor.

"The muggle world, I just" she sighed heavily, "I just need to be around normal civilization 'Mione, I understand we're all going mad with the current state of this world and call me selfish but just an hour is what I need. You're more than welcome to come along."

"No, Ron might need me, you know I can't leave him for too long."

Lyra walked towards her and went to her knees when Hermione shifted to meet her eyes, "Hermione I understand you need to be there for him, but don't act as a sponge soaking up other people's feelings and responsibilities, it's alright to be selfish sometimes."

A small faint smile formed on Hermione's lips, "Maybe next time I'll come with you but not today, it's too soon. Please just make sure they don't catch you"

Lyra gave a gentle nod and returned her with a smile. There was no point in arguing with her, Hermione let everyone use her and never allowed herself to break away for a while, at the end of the day she too was human and needed time to herself.

She left their room and made her way downstairs, making sure her wand was strapped under her sleeve if she needed to quickly access it.

"It's not safe."

Neville. The only friend she had there, the only friend that she loved that was alive today.

"At this point Neville, if they catch me I'm no use to them, they can't enter my mind and with torture, I'll never give anything up. Most likely I'll end up dead which is better than how I've been living these past 2 years." She didn't turn to look at him, she knew if she was to face Neville and look into his sad eyes Lyra wouldn't be able to walk out that door.

"You'll come back, right?" She finally broke and turned to face him, taking small steps towards Neville. Taking his hand into both of hers, the look in his eyes just the same as everyone else's, sadness, defeat, loneliness.

"You know for you, I'll always come back. Just an hour no more." A sincere smile appeared across her face but all Neville did was nod and walk away from Lyra.

She stood there for a second remembering the joyous shy boy who always enthusiastically spoke about plants and herbs. How even though when she was a first-year Slytherin and he a third-year Gryffindor they created an amazing friendship despite his whole house thinking she shared the same pure-blood ideology as most of the Slytherin households.

She broke free from her thoughts and apparated to the little cafe in the corner of a quiet street. A place she's been coming to since the war began to break free from the hell she and many others are forced to live in. To guarantee her safety and the muggles who worked here, she was forced to obliviate them after each and single visit. Lyra found herself sad again, how she's known the workers for 2 years but to them every time she was a new stranger.

As she sat taking a sip of her tea she looked outside the cafe window to see people laughing and have a joyous smile on their faces. She missed the sound of laughter, she missed her somewhat normal life. After a while, she paid for her tea, obliviated the worker, and made her way down the street. Checking her watch she realized she had quite some time before the hour mark came up and was dragged back to her reality.

Wandering the streets of London Lyra had one thought on her mind that always appeared to haunt her mind. What were Harry's last moments like in that forest? An answer one may never know. She had grown to like the boy just before his grim death 2 weeks prior. They got along and shared many similar qualities together, in some alternate reality if Harry was to be sorted into Slytherin or her in Gryffindor the two could've been an amazing pair of friends.

But Harry never shared her beliefs in fighting fire with fire. Their enemies didn't shed lightly when faced in battle with them, and neither should they have. But he wanted to remain good, he wanted to remain better than Voldemort and his followers.

Lyra's thoughts became disturbed when she bumped into a stranger, "My apolog-" she froze looking into the stranger's eyes. Before reaching for her wand she found herself being dragged into an alley by a figure twice her size.

Being dragged by Draco Malfoy.