𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 a draco malfoy fanfiction [𝟑]

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1

R E F E R T O   A N A M A N I U M

( REH - fer - to   ah - nam - ANI - um )

" to house the soul "

_______________

SPINNER'S END HAD been nothing short of eye-opening for Lyra and her love of potions and dark magic. Barely two weeks in, Severus had taught her bundles of potion knowledge, and lent her stacks of books on dark magic.

Tonight, she was instructed to remain in her room as her Uncle had a 'bad feeling' about the hours to come. The door of her dimly lit room was firmly shut.

Lyra sat in the windowsill, letting the cool night's breeze encase her. She occasionally got puffs of Draco's cologne from his jumper that infiltrated her nose. Each one left her body feeling empty.

Not one word, nothing absolutely nothing. She had at least expected a parchment as bread as 'it's done' but he hadn't even given her the curtesy.

Lyra took a drag from the crafted cigarette Theo had gifted her to try. It left her lips fuzzy and tongue numb, but she found comfort somehow. It was a good job his cigarette held nothing harmful.

Her eyes had drifted closed after staring at the starts with an unmatched intensity. The wind softly rustled the trees, fairly masking the sound of apparition. Lyra swallowed and scalded herself for the hint of her new found paranoia.

The wind became her symphony on the nights she wallowed in self pity and longing. Always singing the same song. Her voice carried through the air in an angelic flutter, leaving a pleasurable chill to anyone who encountered it.

Cedric would laugh and call her a siren. Her voice called out to those in distress and turmoil, calmed their nerves and lulled them softly.

"Lavender's blue, dilly dilly, lavender's green," she sang into the night, "you are my king, dilly dilly and I am your queen."

Her fingertips danced against the cold stone of the window ledge, tracing mindless patterns that burned into the stone. Swirls, constellations; broken quotes.

Lyra couldn't stop her cold fingers from tracing the unblemished skin of her neck, missing the purple and blue hues that once rested there.

'All I can think about is making a pretty purple replica of my constellation on your neck.'

"Lavender's green, dilly dilly. Lavender's blue," Lyra began again, her heart heavy, "If you love me, dilly dilly. Then I'll love you too."

The sitting rooms grandfather clock chimed twice. Lyra gave up waiting by the window, she let the thin cigarette hand from the edge of her plump lips, walking down the hallways.

Lyra gripped a specific book and held it to her chest, she scorgified the remainder of her cigarette and floated down the stairs. Her brain was overactive and thinking about a specific spell in the book.

Lyra began her question as she opened the door, her eyes trained on the yellowed page. "Uncle Severus, do you think that referto anamanium, comes from the latin sun tec—,"