𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐒 a draco malfoy fanfiction [𝟐] [✓]

xv

15

A  G  U  A  M  E  N  T  I

( AH - gwa - MEN - tee)

" to conjure water "

_______________

FRED ENTERED THE kitchen of Twelve Grimmauld Place in the early hours of Christmas morning to find Lyra and Tonks whispering inconspicuously.

"Morning." He mused with a smirk, settling in the rickety chair beside Lyra. "Everyone's ready to leave for St. Mungo's now."

Tonks smiled at the two and rushed out of the kitchen, knocking over a plate as she swept away. Fred wrapped his arms around Lyra tightly, rocking her side to side.

"Is he kind to you?" Fred whispered in her ear as they walked towards the front door, "He doesn't call you that name or anything does he?"

Lyra shook her head with a smile, and leant closer into Fred side, "No, no. He's stubborn at times but never like he used to be."

Fred pinched her cheeks, wiggling her flushed skin as he replied, "Well if he ever says it, send him our way. We've got some new pranks we need a lab ferret for."

Fred waved to her and jogged to stand beside Hermione. The latter stood stiffly with one arm wrapped around a book, the other hanging by her side. Fred looked around to see if anybody was watching, never noticing Lyra's intrigued stare.

Fred interlaced his fingers with Hermione's, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before toppling into the car.

_______________

Lyra had slipped out of Mr. Weasley's room earlier than anyone else. Staff on the fourth floor greeted her warmly, asking questions about her day as they passed.

The Janus Thickey Ward was filled with the pleasant hum of hushed chatter. Neville and his grandmother were sat beside Frank and Alice Longbottom.

Lyra smiled at Neville who looked up sheepishly before accepting an empty wrapper from his mother. The man settled in the bed furthest from the door waved Lyra over, pointing to the vacant chair as he wolfed down the last few scraps of his chicken.

"Lyra, my sweet angel, look how big you've gotten." Her grandfather said with contagious joy, "Did you know the people round here are wizards?"

Lyra laughed with a trickle of sadness laced within. Every time she saw her grandfather, she could always count on him saying those two sentences.

"Yes, Grandad, I do know that." She giggled, hiding her hands inside her jumper.

"Can I do magic?" He asked in a hushed whisper, before waving his arms around vigorously whilst belting out 'Abra Kadabra.'

Lyra caught his hands and pushed them back down to his side, "No grandad, you're a muggle, remember? It's me and gran who are witches."

His face lit up with glee, like a child seeing his presents on Christmas, "My little angel can do magic? Show me, show me!"