Lydia's Story

As Draco moved closer to where Harry and Lydia sat at the lakeside, his mind quickly filled with every curse he knew.

How dare he go near her? He thought angrily, his hand wrapped firmly around his wand. He didn't care what would happen next, what consequences would come. It would be worth it.

"Draco!" Lydia said happily, rising to her feet. She seemed to freeze at the scowl on his face, her expression confused.

"Get up, Potter," Draco said coldly, pointing his wand at Harry's chest. Harry's face hardened as he rose to his feet, his wand drawn.

"Draco, what are you doing?" Lydia said incredulously, grabbing his wrist and trying in vain to point his wand away from Harry. Draco was stronger than he looked, and wouldn't budge.

"Out of the way, Lydia," he said, his voice still hard. "Scar-Head needs to learn his place!" Before Lydia could react, Draco's wand sliced through the air in a wide arc. "Derespira!"

A silvery orb burst from his wand, flying point-blank at Harry.

"Protego!" Harry called, brandishing his wand desperately.

Lydia screamed as the spell rebounded off of Harry's shield, hitting Draco squarely in the chest. He doubled over from the force of the spell and felt his breathing stop. His lungs were empty, and he stumbled to the ground, his mind dizzy from a lack of air.

"Harry, quick, get help!" Lydia cried, kneeling earnestly at Draco's side. "He can't breath!"

Harry, apparently rooted to the spot, shook himself out of his stupor and hurried up to the castle, running as fast as he could. Draco continued to kneel on the ground, the pain in his chest growing as the seconds passed without precious oxygen. He could feel and hear Lydia beside him, crying softly. Reaching out, he took her hand, raising pained eyes to her fearful face.

Even when she's crying, she's beautiful, a part of his mind thought groggily. If I'm going to die, at least I'm with her. This thought surprised his ever-fading mind. He had never felt that way with anyone before. Opening his mouth, he tried to voice some of what he was feeling, but no sound would come. His vision began to blur, and he shut his eyes to the growing darkness. He was vaguely aware of Lydia's arms around him and her soft scent before his world was enrobed in blackness.

*~*~*~*~*

Lydia felt Draco go limp in her arms seconds before Professor Dumbledore appeared in a flash of phoenix flame. Moving swiftly and silently, he pulled out his wand and kneeled at their side. His face looked strained and aged as he muttered a spell, his wand fluttering like a butterfly over Draco's still form.

Holding him in her arms, Lydia burst into tears of relief as she felt Draco take in a shaky breath of life.

"He will be fine," Dumbledore said reassuringly, his sparkling blue eyes watching Lydia. "He may need to spend some time in the Hospital Wing, though. Harry got to me just in time. Any longer, and there may have been some lasting damage."

Her eyes on Draco, Lydia didn't notice Harry hurrying towards them, followed by a much more unwelcome figure.

"Will he be alright, Headmaster?" Snape asked briskly, his eyes looking intently at the sight of Lydia holding Draco's unmoving body.

"Yes, Severus, young Mister Malfoy will be fine," Dumbledore said calmly, rising to his feet. At his words, Draco's eyelids fluttered open, looking dazedly into Lydia's tear-streaked face. As his eyes came into focus, his face spread into a weak smile. "Ah, look!" Dumbledore continued. "He's coming along now. We'll just need to get him up to the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey will want to make sure he's okay."

"I'll take him up, Headmaster," Snape said at once. "I am his Head of House, after all."

Dumbledore gave a small nod, and Snape conjured up a stretcher out of thin air. With another wave of his wand, Draco was lifted to the stretcher, and Snape started on his way across the grounds, Draco floating along ahead of him. Lydia was just about to follow when Professor Dumbledore's voice called her back.

"Miss Meliflua, Mister Potter, I would like a word with you please." Tearing her eyes away from Draco's receding form, Lydia turned to face Dumbledore. "In the hurry to get out here, I'm afraid that I missed many of the details of what happened. If one of you could please explain how this happened, it would be of great help."

Harry hurried into an explanation of what happened, Lydia standing silently at his side. She watched the crumpled grass near her feet flutter slightly in the breeze, remembering how moments ago Draco's body had laid there in her arms. Shuddering slightly, she didn't hear Professor Dumbledore address her.

"Miss Meliflua?" he repeated patiently, Lydia finally looking up at him. "Harry says there's something you wish to tell me. Something important."

Confused, it was a moment before Lydia remembered her conversation with Professor Snape.

"Maybe it would be better if we spoke in my office," Dumbledore suggested, reading Lydia's silence as hesitation. Nodding, Lydia followed silently as Professor Dumbledore led the way to the school. Walking side-by-side with Harry, she silently rehearsed what she was going to say, careful to remember all the details.

They continued through the corridors, coming at last to an ugly stone gargoyle. Lydia continued to watch in silence as Professor Dumbledore gave the password, and they stepped onto the moving staircase. Once they all entered the office, she was briefly distracted by the appearance of the room. Not until they were all seated at the desk did her thoughts return to the situation at hand.

"Now then," Professor Dumbledore said, turning his blue eyes again to Lydia, "what do you want to tell me?"

*~*~*~*~*

"Professor, you can't take me to the Hospital Wing!" Draco exclaimed as they made their way through the winding corridors, his voice rising in panic. "What if Madame Pomfrey sees my Mark? What if she realizes what I am?" What would Lydia think? His mind finished silently.

Even though they were quite alone, Professor Snape cast a wary glance over his shoulder. "I have to bring you, Draco," he said quietly. "It would draw too much suspicion if I disobeyed such a simple request. Don't worry, I will insist on staying with you. If things go...awry...I will be there to modify her memory. Now lie back down and calm yourself!"

Draco leaned back on the stretcher, watching the ceiling unseeingly. He didn't want to go to the Hospital Wing, but he trusted Professor Snape. He had to.

*~*~*~*~*

Lydia told her story, Harry jumping in every now and then with a forgotten detail. Once they finished, the room fell very silent. Lydia waited anxiously for Dumbledore's reaction, feeling the many eyes of the portraits watching her in silence.

Dumbledore's gaze shifted between their two faces, his fingers steepled. Before he could speak, however, the silence was broken by a derisive snicker.

"Honestly, Dumbledore, I don't see why you waste your time," said a contemptuous voice behind them. Turning, Lydia saw a portrait of a wizard with a pointed beard, wearing the Slytherin colours. "Didn't young Harry come in with the same baseless accusations last year? Against the Head of my own house, too."

"Phineas," Dumbledore said warningly, watching him intently.

The portrait's figure turned away from Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes, looking instead at Lydia. Searching her face, his gaze seemed to freeze on her eyes.

"What's your name, girl?" he said suddenly, looking intrigued.

"Lydia," she said nervously. "Lydia Meliflua."

"Lydia?" he repeated, his voice quiet. Lydia nodded, feeling confused and uneasy. Phineas paused for a moment, stroking his beard pensively. "Who were you named for?" he asked at last.

"A distant relative on my mother's side," she answered, casting a glance at Dumbledore. Was it commonplace to be interrogated by the portraits at Hogwarts? "Lydia Nigellus, she was my great-great-great-great-aunt."

Phineas nodded approvingly, leaning back calmly in his portrait. "Yes, yes I thought you must be a Nigellus. You look so much like my dear wife, the first Lydia Nigellus. You certainly have her eyes."

Lydia stared in silence for a moment. "So...you're my great-great-great-great - "

" - Uncle, yes," Phineas finished, watching Lydia with a smile. "Your mother married a Meliflua, then? You must be a pure-blood. And to think," he said with a sigh, "that the House of Black went to a half-blooded outsider!"

"Wait a moment," Harry cut in, apparently too distracted to be offended. He looked from Lydia to Phineas to Dumbledore, pausing at each face. "That means Lydia is - was - Sirius's..."

"Very distant cousin," Dumbledore said calmly, filling in the gap. "Yes, I thought you might find that information interesting."

"Well then...why doesn't she have the house?" Harry pressed.

"Miss Meliflua was neither mentioned in Sirius's will nor his closest living relative," Dumbledore explained. "Had the house not been left to you, it would have gone to Bellatrix Lestrange."

"What...who...?" Lydia asked in confusion. None of their conversation made sense. "Sirius...Are you talking about the guy who died? The one accused of murder?"

"Yes," Phineas answered coolly. "He was my great-great-grandson, and a distant cousin of yours. As you seem to already know, he died last year."

"And Harry?"

"Harry was his godson," Dumbledore said after a brief silence. "Yes, I believe Miss Meliflua deserves to know," he added, seeing Harry's surprise. "She has my trust."

"So...when Sirius died...he left Harry his house?" Lydia continued, trying to fit the pieces together.

"Exactly," Phineas said with another smile. "It's good to see that you're brighter than some." His gaze seemed to flicker momentarily towards Harry.

"What does this have to do with me?" Lydia asked, still confused by how the house fit in.

"In all honesty...nothing," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I just felt that it would be good for you to get better acquainted with your mother's side of the family...and to realize that you and Harry have more in common than meets the eye."

There was another silence, during which Lydia took a sidelong glance at Harry. Looking at her, he met her eye and gave her a smile.

"Now then, seeing as you two have both missed supper, I think a small snack is required before I send you off to bed," Dumbledore said. Waving his wand, a golden platter of sandwiches appeared on his desk.

"Sir, what about Snape?" Harry asked suddenly. The question jolted Lydia, who had completely forgotten the reason for their visit.

"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore corrected. "And as I told you before, he has my trust. I appreciate that you two trust me enough to come to me with your concerns, but I believe that his actions may have been misinterpreted. However, I will speak to him."

Lydia nodded grimly, looking down at the desk. Harry seemed ready to start yelling, but stopped himself by shoving a sandwich into his mouth.

"Professor," Lydia added, grabbing a sandwich from the pile, "you won't tell Professor Snape that I said anything...will you?"

"No, Miss Meliflua," Dumbledore said with a comforting smile. "I do not make it my job to turn my staff and students against each other. Our meeting is confidential."

Giving a nod, Lydia turned her attention to devouring her sandwich. In all the excitement, she hadn't noticed how very hungry she was. It felt good to be eating, and even better to be sitting in an amiable silence with Harry. He was a connection, almost family, and that was special.