FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT ► harry potter ¹

006. Black Madness

CHAPTER SIX

      LYRA BLACK SAT HUNCHED over a stack of parchment in the dimly lit Slytherin common room, her quill scratching furiously as she worked through a lengthy Potions essay. Her fingers were stained with ink, her handwriting erratic with frustration. She was on edge. She could feel it in the jitter of her foot tapping against the stone floor. A cluster of first-years whispered nearby, shooting nervous glances her way. She didn't care much about their hushed gossip—her focus was on completing the blasted essay that Snape had assigned. However, her attention shifted sharply when the door to the common room swung open with a creaking groan.

A sudden hush fell over the room. Lyra's head snapped up to see the Slytherin prefects escorting Severus Snape through the doorway, his black robes billowing like a dark omen. Snape's face was a mask of rigid control, but his eyes darted around, scanning the room with a hawk-like intensity.

"What's going on?" Lyra heard a few of the students muttering to each other, their voices low and cautious.

Lyra's brow furrowed. She was about to turn back to her work when she noticed another figure stepping in behind Snape—Professor McGonagall, her expression stern, eyes searching the crowd until they locked onto Lyra.

"Professor, what's happening?" Lyra asked, her voice breaking the uneasy silence that had settled over the room. Her gray eyes, sharp as flint, met McGonagall's with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

"Come with me, Ms. Black," McGonagall replied, her tone measured, yet unyielding. There was no room for argument in her voice. Lyra stood up slowly, her robes rustling as she moved, and followed McGonagall out of the common room, aware of the eyes boring into her back like needles.

Once they were outside the heavy stone door, McGonagall turned to her. "It has come to our attention that you will not be sleeping in the common room tonight."

Lyra's thick brows shot up in surprise. "And why is that?" Her voice dripped with defiance, her tone cutting like a blade.

"Follow me to the headmaster's office, and we'll explain," McGonagall said, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Lyra's stomach twisted at the thought. She wasn't particularly fond of Dumbledore. In fact, she downright loathed the man. The world might see him as some beacon of goodness and wisdom, but Lyra had done her research. She knew the skeletons buried deep in his closet—his twisted obsession with the 'greater good' and all that nonsense. A right load of dragon dung, if you asked her. Not to mention how he seemed to fawn over Potter and his merry band of misfits, doling out House points like they were sweets.

They approached the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office. McGonagall whispered, "Taffy," and the gargoyle sprang to life, moving aside to allow them entry. The spiraling staircase took them upward, each step feeling heavier than the last.

When they finally entered the office, Dumbledore was waiting for them, draped in his usual ridiculous blue robes that glimmered under the candlelight. His half-moon glasses perched on his nose, twinkling just like his eyes always seemed to do. Lyra had never understood how he managed to make them gleam like that. It was almost unnatural.

"I see that you have arrived," he said, his voice a silky mixture of warmth and authority.

"Well, you did ask for me, didn't you?" Lyra snapped back, her arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze was defiant, her posture rigid. McGonagall scowled at her lack of decorum, but Dumbledore only chuckled softly.

"Yes, well, there has been a security breach tonight, Ms. Black," Dumbledore began, his voice growing somber. "The Fat Lady had an unusual encounter... with Sirius Black."