CHAPTER 27

CHRISTMAS

Dear Mione,

Mr. Weasley is fine, healing very well. We are most likely visiting again soon, and we'll be there for part of Christmas. In not so great news, Harry has locked himself in his room because he found out that the only reason he knew about Mr. Weasley was because You-KNow-Who possessed him. I figure Ron will probably be letting you know as well, soon.

Lyra

Lyra put the letter aside before taking a second parchment.

Fay,

How's it going at your place? Have your parents driven you up the wall yet? I miss you and Zara, wish we could have a regular Christmas at my place. Have a good holiday, don't let your family bring you down!

Love, Lyra

She placed the second letter with Hermione's before taking two more parchments.

Zara,

How's your holiday going. Mr. Weasley is doing well by the way, we'll be visiting soon. Anyway, how are your parents, tell them that me and dad miss them. Hopefully I'll see you soon, Happy Holidays.

Lots of love, 

Lyra

She took longer with the last letter, unsure of how to write it properly, before finally sighing at taking her quill.

Dear Blaise,

How has your break been? I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye before leaving, a family friend was hurt and dad came to pick me up. I hope your mother and her fiancé aren't dampening your holidays too much. Anyway, hope to see you soon,

Lyra

She finally tied the four letters to Sunflower, gave her a treat, and told her to whom the letters should be sent to before heading back down to the living room. There she found Sirius singing loudly to Christmas carols, Lyra quickly joining in parading around the house behind him.

At one point, Elliot had to yell at them to shut up, failing miserably as Sirius only sang louder, and Lyra followed as they both circled around him. He finally left, stating he was going to buy food.

In the next few days Hermione arrived, thanking Lyra for the letter and trying to get Harry out of his depression. She seemed to have managed and Harry was back to actually socializing with people. Lyra convinced Ginny and Hermione to join her in Christmas shopping, both in Diagon Alley and a nearby muggle shop, Tonks followed behind them as their guard.

Lyra had gotten Zara a new lens for her camera, her old one had been broken for months. She got Fay a few new vinyls for her record player, both muggle and wizard music. She got new pranking invention supplies for the twins, mostly just at a Potions ingredients store. She bought Ron and Harry a basket of Muggle candies and pranks each.

Ginny and Hermione got charm bracelets. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley got matching, partner sweaters. For Sirius she bought dog toys and for her dad she bought new vinyls as well because his music was just so old. She had most trouble with getting Blaise something, getting him something muggle might bother him but what could she get him that he didn't already have. The boy was rich and had basically everything he could ask for.

She decided to buy him accessories, which she knew he would get anyway, but bought muggle sunglasses, chain necklaces, and non-snake rings.

The next few days Christmas music had been blasting through the house, Lyra had caught the twins dancing in the living room almost every day, Fred always made a huge gesture to get her dancing as well.

When Christmas Eve finally arrived, Lyra sent out her gifts and holiday wishes to her faraway friends. And spent the rest of the day with eggnog and by the fire, joined by Mione, Ginny, and Tonks. Her dad managed to convince her into one dance before their traditional Christmas day dance. Mrs. Weasley had taken a picture that was now saved in the blank scrapbook she had gotten from Fay.

On Christmas morning she had woken bright and early, jumping on Hermione's and Ginny's bed. Hermione just groaned, Ginny punched her so hard that Lyra felt more proud than anything. She then tossed them their gifts which worked wonders in getting them up and began ripping into her own gifts.

Mr. And Mrs. Weasley had gifted her the usual Weasley sweater, it was emerald green and had a gold 'L'. Hermione gave her a journal that had a broomstick drawing zooming by every time she flipped the page, Ginny gave her a basket of Muggle bracelets and candies, Harry and Ron had given her more candy and new Quidditch gloves.

Sirius and Lupin had bought her a pile of interesting Astronomy and Charms books. Her dad had given her a new saddle for Midnight, decorated with gold and silver embroidered lines. Tonks had given her a few boxes of semi-permanent hair dye that changes colors at will. And the twins gave her exclusive Weasley Wizard Wheezes' products.

An owl had arrived the night before with her gifts from her other friends. Zara and her family had sent her a new camera, Fay had gifted her the scrapbook with materials to fill it with and pictures of them and their friends. And Blaise had sent her a pair of stunning earrings that looked like they had been made of pure diamonds, along with a letter that had her blushing for a full hour.

Later that day they went to St. Mungos to visit Mr. Weasley, he and Mrs. Weasley thanked Lyra for the sweaters.

"Oh, it's really no big deal?" Lyra said, blushingly.

The conversation had quickly changed to the fact that Mr. Wesley had gotten stitches, angering Mrs. Weasley very quickly.

"I fancy a cup of tea," said Harry, jumping to his feet. Lyra jumped to her feet, pushing Ginny out the door with Hermione and Ron following. As it swung closed behind them, they heard Mrs. Weasley shriek, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?"

"Typical Dad," said Ginny, shaking her head as they set off up the corridor. "Stitches... I ask you..."

"Well, you know, they do work well on non-magical wounds," said Hermione fairly. "I suppose something in that snake's venom dissolves them or something. I wonder where the tearoom is?"

"Fifth floor," Harry said and they began their trip up. They walked along the corridor, through a set of double doors and found a rickety staircase lined with more portraits of brutal-looking Healers. As they climbed it, the various Healers called out to them, diagnosing odd complaints and suggesting horrible remedies. Ron was seriously affronted when a medieval wizard called out that he clearly had a bad case of spattergroit.

Lyra giggled as the wizard believed Ron's freckles were spattergroit, and the two began an argument until they pulled the redhead for the portrait.

As they stepped on to the landing he came to an abrupt halt, staring at the small window set into the double doors that marked the start of a corridor signposted SPELL DAMAGE. A man was peering out at them all with his nose pressed against the glass. He had wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes and a broad vacant smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth.

"Blimey!" Ron said, staring at the man.

"Is that... Professor Lockhart?" Lyra asked, staring in half amazement, half confusion at the man before turning to Harry and Ron, "Didn't you obliviate him?"

"Well, hello there!" he said. ''I expect you'd like my autograph, would you?"

"Hasn't changed much, has he?" Harry muttered to Lyra and Ginny, who grinned.

"Er- how are you, Professor?" said Ron, sounding slightly guilty.

"I'm very well indeed, thank you!" said Lockhart exuberantly, palling a rather battered peacock-feather quill from his pocket. "Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know!"

"Er- we don't want any at the moment, thanks," said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry, who asked, "Professor, should you be wandering around the corridors? Shouldn't you be in a ward?"

The smile faded slowly from Lockhart's face. For a few moments he gazed intently at Harry, then he said, "Haven't we met?"

"Er... yeah, we have," said Harry. "You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?"

"Teach?" repeated Lockhart, looking faintly unsettled. "Me? Did I?"

Lyra snorted, "We couldn't believe it either."

Ginny turned away to hide her chortle, Hermione was quick to nudge at their ribs.

"Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out!"

But just then a head poked out of a door at the far end of the corridor and a voice called, "Gilderoy, you naughty boy, where have you wandered off to?"

A motherly-looking Healer wearing a tinsel wreath in her hair came bustling up the corridor, smiling warmly at Harry and the others. "Oh, Gilderoy, you've got visitors! How lovely, and on Christmas Day, too! Do you know, he never gets visitors, poor lamb, and I can't think why, he's such a sweetie, aren't you?"

"We're doing autographs!" Gilderoy told the Healer with another glittering smile. "They want loads of them, won't take no for an answer! I just hope we've got enough photographs!"

"Listen to him," said the Healer, taking Lockhart's arm and beaming fondly at him as though he were a precocious two-year-old.

"He was rather well known a few years ago; we very much hope that this liking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be starting to come back. Will you step this way? He's in a closed ward, you know, he must have slipped out while I was bringing in the Christmas presents, the door's usually kept locked... not that he's dangerous! But," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "he's a bit of a danger to himself, bless him... doesn't know who he is, you see, wanders off and can't remember how to get back... it is nice of you to have come to see him."

"Er," said Ron, gesturing uselessly at the floor above, "actually, we were just - er -"

But the Healer was smiling expectantly at them, and Ron's feeble mutter of 'going to have a cup of tea' trailed away into nothingness. They looked at each other helplessly, Lyra who looked like she was about to say something was stopped by Hermione's hand, as she had been expecting something rude. Then they followed Lockhart and his Healer along the corridor.

"Let's not stay long," Ron said quietly, Lyra nodded her head in agreement.

Lyra felt herself begin to space out at the Healer's and Lockhart's discussion, instead staring towards the curtain that hid a couple, she assumed. Her head finally came back when she heard the Healer remark a woman nearby.

"And- oh, Mrs. Longbottom, are you leaving already?" Lyra, who had already been facing the curtained area, shot her eyes up to see it had been drawn back revealing two beds at the end of the ward and two visitors were walking back down the aisle between the beds; a formidable-looking old witch wearing a long green dress, a moth-eaten fox fur and a pointed hat decorated with what was unmistakably a stuffed vulture and, trailing behind her looking thoroughly depressed - Neville.

Lyra then realized who the people in the bed were, his parents. Lyra distantly remembered hearing about the Longbottoms tortured into insanity, she had been young, maybe six or seven, and had snuck down to the top steps of her house while her father had been talking to Mad-Eye about it.

Before Lyra could react, Ron was calling out "'Neville!"

Neville jumped and cowered as though a bullet had narrowly missed him.

"It's us, Neville!" said Ron brightly, getting to his feet.

"Ron, no!" Lyra muttered but he didn't seem to hear her.

"Have you seen -? Lockhart's here! Who've you been visiting?"

"Friends of yours, Neville, dear?" said Neville's grandmother graciously, bearing down upon them all. Neville looked as though he would rather be anywhere in the world but here. A dull purple flush was creeping up his plump face and he was not making eye contact with any of them.

"Ah, yes," said his grandmother, looking closely at Harry and sticking out a shriveled, claw-like hand for him to shake. "Yes, yes, I know who you are, of course. Neville speaks most highly of you."

"Er- thanks," said Harry, blushing slightly. Neville did not look at him, but surveyed his own feet, the colour in his face also deepening.

"And you two are clearly Weasleys," Mrs. Longbottom continued, proffering her hand regally to Ron and Ginny in turn. "Yes, I know your parents - not well, of course - but fine people, fine people... you must be Hermione Granger?"

Hermione looked rather startled that Mrs. Longbottom knew her name, but shook hands all the same. "Yes, Neville's told me all about you. Helped him out of a few sticky spots, haven't you?"

She then turned to Lyra, her eyes widened slightly and gasping softly. At that, Neville lifted his gaze and softly said, "Gran, this is Lyra. Lyra Knight."

The shock on the old woman's face seemed to fade but her voice came out more breathless than with the others. "Ah yes... Lyra Knight, I know your father as well, charming man, he is. Neville also speakers very highly of you."

"Neville. He's a good boy," she said, casting a sternly appraising look down her rather bony nose at Neville, "but he hasn't got his father's talent, I'm afraid to say."

And she jerked her head in the direction of the two beds at the end of the ward, so that the stuffed vulture on her hat trembled alarmingly.

"What?" said Ron, looking amazed. Lyra really wished she could smack the boy but it didn't seem like a polite thing to do in front of Mrs. Longbottom. "Is that your dad down the end, Neville?"

"What's this?" said Mrs. Longbottom sharply. "Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?"

Neville took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. Lyra could not remember ever feeling sorrier for anyone, but he could not think of any way of helping Neville out of the situation.

"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of!" said Mrs. Longbottom angrily. "You should be proud, Neville, proud! They didn't give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!"

"I'm not ashamed," said Neville, very faintly, still looking anywhere but at the group in front of him. Ron was now standing on tiptoe to look over at the inhabitants of the two beds.

"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it!" said Mrs. Longbottom. "My son and his wife," she said, turning haughtily to Harry, Ron, Lyra, Hermione and Ginny, "were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers."

Hermione and Ginny both clapped their hands over their mouths. Ron stopped craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Neville's parents and looked mortified. Lyra felt her jaw tighten and closed her eyes to stop the burning of the tears.

"They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the wizarding community," Mrs Longbottom went on. "Highly gifted, the pair of them. I - yes, Alice dear, what is it?"

Neville's mother had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. Her face was thin and worn now, her eyes seemed overly large and her hair, which had turned white, was wispy and dead-looking. She did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she made timid motions towards Neville, holding something in her outstretched hand.

"Again?" said Mrs Longbottom, sounding slightly weary. "Very well, Alice dear, very well - Neville, take it, whatever it is."

But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper.

"Very nice, dear," said Neville's grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder.

Neville said quietly, "Thanks, Mum."

His mother tottered away, back up the ward, humming to herself. Neville looked around at the others, his expression defiant, as though daring them to laugh, but Lyra was nowhere near laughing, instead fighting hard to run and give Neville a hug or breakdown on the floor.

"Well, we'd better get back," sighed Mrs. Longbottom, drawing on long green gloves. "Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now."

But as they left, Lyra saw Neville slip the sweet wrapper into his pocket. The door closed behind them.

"I never knew," said Hermione, who looked tearful. "Nor did I," said Ron rather hoarsely. "Nor me," whispered Ginny. They all looked at Lyra and Harry.

"I did. Hear about it once but I was really little, I didn't realize it was Neville's parents."

"I did," he said glumly. "Dumbledore told me but I promised I wouldn't tell anyone... that's what Bellatrix Lestrange got sent to Azkaban for, using the Cruciatus Curse on Neville's parents until they lost their minds and one other, her surname was Avery."

"Bellatrix Lestrange did that?" whispered Hermione, horrified. "That woman Kreacher's got a photo of in his den?" 

There was a long silence, broken by Lockhart's angry voice. "Look, I didn't learn joined-up writing for nothing, you know!"

*****

another two chapters in a day! i was going to include more to this one but the Neville story turned out to be longer than i thought and i didn't want to make this chapter too much longer than the others. also, HOW THE HELL DO I STRIKETHROUGH ON WATTPAD

anyway, i have decided to split Lyra's story into two books, 'social casualty' will be GOF and OOTP and the second book (which i still have to name) will be HBP, DH, and anything after that. so, be prepared!