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❝it's hard to put it into words how the holidays will always hurt❞
≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫
Lyra Black was dreading coming home for the holidays. As the train got closer and closer to King's Cross Station, her anxiousness grew. She knew she was in for a world of hell the minute the sorting hat decided to put her into Hufflepuff, and now she had to go and face her family of Slytherin's.
Bellatrix was going to kill her. She made that clear in the angry letter she sent her during her first week at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Lucius would probably help, Narcissa would try to stop them, and her nephew, Draco, would stand there and watch, frozen in fear, not knowing how to help Lyra.
The blonde exhaled shakily as the Hogwarts Express pulled into Platform 9 ¾. She exchanged a look with Draco, who looked as scared for her as she felt. They stepped off the train and pushed through the crowd. Lyra's stomach was twisting with unease, and she felt like she was going to be sick.
"I'm gonna die," Lyra whispered.
"You don't really think Auntie Bella's gonna kill you, right?" Draco asked. "I mean...you're her sister. Family isn't supposed to hurt each other."
Lyra sucked in a deep breath through her nose. "That hasn't stopped her before."
Lyra always seemed to be Bellatrix's punching bag. She couldn't remember a time when she was ever nice to her. She never showed her any affection, and everytime she spoke to her it was to tell her about how she was a disappointment and a disgrace to the family. Nothing that she ever did was good enough to please her.
Lyra was the youngest daughter of the noble and most ancient House of Black. She didn't remember her parents – they had died when she was very young. She was raised by her older sisters, Bellatrix and Narcissa, at Malfoy Manor. Narcissa was kind to her and always comforted her when she was sad or scared. Bellatrix was the exact opposite. In fact, she was the one responsible for inflicting those feelings onto her in the first place
"Scared?" Lyra's cousin, Sirius Black, asked her as she and Draco approached him. The 11 year old nodded, and he leaned down so that he was closer to her level. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Just know that no matter what Bellatrix says or does to you, this was not your fault. She's mad right now, but she'll get over it."
"No, she won't." Lyra shook her head. "You know how she is. I...I'm gonna get disowned. She's gonna burn my picture off the family tree like you and Andromeda. She...She's gonna hurt me again!"
"I won't let her," Draco said. "I-I can protect you."
Lyra turned to look at him, and he noticed that her eyes were glistening with tears. "There's nothing anyone can do to protect me from her, Draco."
