Forsaken Bloodlines {HP x GOT}

Chapter 5.12: A Whole New World

Lyanna woke slowly, the throbbing pain in her body pulling her back to consciousness. Her eyelids fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light of the hospital wing. For a few moments, her mind was blank—until it wasn't. And then the weight of it all crashed down on her.

She bolted upright, gasping, her chest constricting as her eyes darted around the room. The sterile, white walls, the quiet hum of the wing, the rhythmic beeping of a machine nearby. And then, her eyes found it: the copy of the Daily Prophet lying on her bedside table, the image of Harry and Dumbledore flashing on the front page with the chilling headline, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Returns.

The article detailed the Ministry's response, confirming that Voldemort was back—actively moving in the shadows again—and that steps were being taken to ensure the safety of the wizarding community. As if anyone could believe they were safe now.

Lyanna's stomach twisted with unease. The words blurred in her vision as the memory of what had happened—what she had unleashed—came flooding back.

Sirius.

Her chest tightened, a heavy sorrow sweeping over her. She buried her face in her hands, but before she could find any semblance of comfort, the door opened, and a familiar figure stepped into the room.

Dumbledore.

He stood there, his silhouette framed by the doorway, his expression solemn. He didn't speak at first, simply observing her, waiting for her to acknowledge him. But Lyanna felt a swell of bitterness welling up inside her as her eyes locked onto his.

He understood how she felt. That was what he said. But could he truly understand? Could he?

"Lyanna..." Dumbledore began softly as if measuring his words. "I understand how you feel—"

Lyanna scoffed, her voice cold and filled with disdain. "Wouldn't be so sure of that."

Dumbledore regarded her with an unreadable look, and then, after a pause, he spoke again. "You forget that Sirius was my friend too."

The words were gentle, but they hit Lyanna like a slap. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, the pain in her chest flaring once more.

"You are not the only person on this earth capable of feelings, Lyanna," Dumbledore continued.

Lyanna's eyes narrowed, and she almost snarled at him. "You have no idea what it feels like, do you? To watch someone die, someone you cared about, and know that you could have saved them. That you should have saved them but couldn't."

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment, his piercing blue eyes never leaving hers. Then he spoke, his voice almost too soft, too compassionate. "There is no shame in feeling pain, Lyanna. In fact, it is your greatest strength."

Lyanna's chest tightened, and she turned her face away from him, biting back the urge to scream. She shook her head, feeling the tears that had been threatening to spill over once more. Her voice broke when she finally spoke.

"You don't have a clue! You can't possibly know!" she cried out in frustration, her voice sharp with the weight of the grief she couldn't contain.

Dumbledore looked at her with a deep sorrow that mirrored the pain in her own eyes. "What can't I know?" he asked softly.

Lyanna's whole body shook as she stood, pacing the room, her mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. "You don't understand what it's like to have the power to save someone, to have the ability to bring them back—but you can't." Her voice broke on the last word, and she stared at Dumbledore with a fury that matched the heat in her chest.