Forsaken Bloodlines {HP x GOT}

Chapter 5.7: That Night

The Gryffindor common room buzzed with laughter and chatter as students gathered in every corner, excitedly discussing the day's events. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Lyanna sat in a quieter corner, voices low as they spoke over the din.

"How can Dumbledore let that horrible woman teach?" Hermione huffed, her arms crossed as she leaned forward, speaking in a hushed, yet frustrated tone. "And when we're taking our O.W.L.s too!"

"You reckon she's here to spy on us?" Ron suggested, casting a wary glance around the room.

"Well, not us specifically," Hermione said, "but definitely Dumbledore and the Order."

Lyanna leaned in, her gaze thoughtful. "Maybe she's here to see if Dumbledore believes Harry?" she suggested quietly.

Harry turned to her, his expression brightening with a spark of inspiration. "Well... can't you help me out or something?"

Lyanna blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean, Harry?"

"You're not just a Malfoy," Harry insisted. "You're the 'Golden Girl' of our generation. People would believe you if you said Voldemort was back. You were there in the graveyard; you saw what happened." His eyes were intense, hopeful.

Lyanna hesitated, glancing down as she tried to find the right words. "Well..."

Before she could respond, Angelina Johnson strode over, a fierce look in her eyes. "Way to go, Potter," she said sharply. "Your detention's at the same time as Quidditch practice!"

Harry looked up, a pang of guilt crossing his face. "Oh! Sorry, Angelina..."

"Yeah, well, you're going to get out of it somehow," she continued, crossing her arms. "We're holding tryouts for Keeper now that Wood's gone, and I wanted the whole team there."

Harry shook his head, sighing. "I'll never get out of it, Angelina. It's Umbridge."

Angelina frowned, clearly annoyed. "Just... don't let it happen again, alright?" With a huff, she spun around and stalked off, muttering under her breath about lousy timing.

As the group sat in uncomfortable silence, Harry turned back to Lyanna, his expression hardening. "So why won't you say something, Lyanna?" he asked, frustration lacing his voice. "You know the truth, but you haven't said a word to anyone. Why not?"

Lyanna shifted uneasily, glancing at Ron and Hermione before looking back at Harry. "Harry, it's not that simple," she said quietly, her tone careful. "There are things you don't understand."

Harry's face twisted with hurt and anger. "Things I don't understand?" he repeated bitterly. "It seems simple enough to me, Lyanna. You saw him come back. You know what happened, and you know what's at stake. Or are you too afraid to speak against your family? Maybe you're on their side, too!"

Lyanna's eyes flared with shock, her face turning pink as Harry's words hit her like a slap. She shot to her feet, anger flashing in her eyes. "Unbelievable, Harry! One minute, you're calling me the 'Golden Girl' and begging for my help, and the next, you're accusing me of being a Death Eater!" Her voice was thick with a hurt she couldn't hide. "I'm risking everything, just being here with you all," she added, her voice shaking slightly. "But I can't just stand up and say what you want me to. You don't understand what that would mean."

She turned on her heel, shoulders tense with anger as she made her way toward the portrait hole, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione behind. Harry opened his mouth to call after her, but the words died in his throat as she disappeared through the door, the sting of her last words hanging in the air.

Hermione placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, her expression sympathetic. "Harry," she said softly, "it's hard for her too. You can't expect her to just stand up and take on the Ministry all by herself."