Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Raven's Song	By : Quills Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 6265 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 32
- 33
- 34
No more than a week had passed before they got the news all of them had been dreading since Ted left the safety of the house. He was dead.
Remus came home with Ted’s wand in the middle of the night, his head bowed low and tears in his eyes. The rumours of his capture had reached the Order too late for help to come in time.
His wife’s howl of despair haunted Lyra still, two days later, cutting through her like a knife that opened up the wound that had only just begun to heal. Watching Andromeda grieve the loss of her husband brought back far too many memories; agonising, raw and impossible to suppress, and the thought of staying in the house to mutely witness the older woman’s grief was toxic.
Barely able even to breathe under the weight of the misery that had settled over the house as if a Dementor hung over all their heads, Lyra tucked Leo into his cot and stroked his black curls, singing a lullaby under her breath until his grey eyes drifted closed and his little hand unclenched around hers. Glancing down at him one more time, her heart skipped a beat, the weight of the emotion she felt for her little son a beacon in the darkness to hold onto. Tonight, though, she needed an outlet for her own grief. If she stayed here much longer it would overwhelm her all over again.
“Remus?” she said under her breath as she reached the bottom of the stairs. An exhausted Tonks had already taken to her bed, and Andromeda had cried herself to sleep an hour ago.
Emerging from the parlour, Remus’s eyes narrowed as they swept over her. She had already changed in anticipation of what she was going to do – comfortable though she was in her robes, Muggle clothing attracted far less attention. “Going somewhere?” he said, his voice just as low as hers.
“Yes.” Not meeting his intent stare, Lyra picked up the bag of supplies she’d packed earlier in the evening. “I need to flex my wand hand for a bit, Remus. Staying here...all I can think of is Sirius, and it hurts far too much. If I don’t get out for a bit, I’m going to want to run again. I can’t do that, not with Leo, so I need to get out tonight. I can help; there’s that many witches and wizards on the run, most of them without their wands. If I can take them a bit of food and cast some charms to keep them safe a little longer, that’ll do for me tonight.”
Remus looked like he wanted to argue, but the grim spark in her eyes invited no defiance. Her mind was made up. “You know, it’s no wonder you and Sirius hit it off,” he finally said with a heavy sigh. “Both as reckless – and brave – as the other. Stay safe, Lyra, okay?”
“I promise I will. I’ll be back before morning; the others won’t even know I’ve gone.”
“Make sure you are. Lyra, I don’t think any of us could stand losing you on top of everyone we’ve already lost, and that little boy upstairs needs his mother more than anything else.”
That struck home. Her lower lip trembling, Lyra drew her wand and darted forward to kiss Remus’s cheek before she walked out of the door without a backwards glance, knowing how badly she needed this excursion yet afraid her will would fail her should she delay any longer. She would be back; so long as she was careful, there was no reason for trouble to find her.
There was one kind of particular trouble, though, that had always been more than determined to seek her out. Lucius Malfoy was a prisoner no longer. He had escaped from Azkaban, along with all the other Death Eaters imprisoned in the last two years. Dumbledore’s death had been the catalyst for the collapse of all defences against Voldemort. The mass breakout of Azkaban had not even made the papers, but the Order was painfully aware that their foes multiplied by the day.
Had she been out in the open still, Lyra did not doubt that one way or another, Lucius would have come for her by now; and sometimes, in the middle of the night when she found herself all alone, she found herself wanting nothing more than to surrender to the forbidden thrill of his arms around her and his mouth on hers. Though she knew how wrong it was, the memory of the way he kissed her that fateful night in the Department of Mysteries never failed to send a shock of desperate, blazing arousal through her veins.
Still she did not know why he abandoned her there when, in her grief, she had openly begged him to take her away and take everything he had been seeking with such ferocity for so long. The lust for her he wore so plainly in his grey eyes took her breath away; there was no doubt that he wanted her still.
A shiver chased down her spine as she raised her wand and Apparated away from the safety of the house. Travelling blind, it was hard to know where to go, but Remus mentioned last week that many of the Muggleborns on the run seemed to be staying away from heavily populated areas. With that in mind, she took herself to Avebury, a Wiltshire village deep in the countryside and away from the major cities where Death Eaters seemed to lurk in every shadow.
This was no time to think of Lucius now, however determinedly her mind seemed to cling to the memory of the last time she saw him. Her wand hand shaking, she moved into the cover of the trees ahead and listened intently for any signs of life – and there it was. A faint, indistinct buzz of conversation, a crackle of twigs, and the amber glow of a fire up ahead.
Wary, she pushed onwards until she saw a group of four people seated around the flickering flames, three women and a man she had not seen for many years.
Their heads snapped towards her, and the man leapt to his feet with a hoarse cry of welcome. “Lyra!”
“Jack?!”
Her eyes filling with tears, Lyra darted towards her old classmate and hugged him tightly. Jack Fry was in her house at Hogwarts; a Muggleborn, the last she heard was that he had a small shop on Diagon Alley. Evidently that had been taken away from him, for his tattered clothes hung loose from his frame and his grey pallor betrayed how long it had been since he had a decent meal.
“Look at you, Jack,” Lyra said, keeping her voice low as she let her pack drop to the floor. “How long have you been on the run?”
“Two months now. I met up with these ladies just a week or so ago. None of us have got wands now, so we figured we’d be best off sticking together and helping to look after each other.”
No one should have to live like this. Shaking from head to toe at the sheer injustice of a world where friends and families turned on each other at Voldemort’s behest, she pointed her wand at the pack and levitated the food she brought with her towards the fire. “You guys hungry, then?”
“Ravenous.” Squeezing her tightly then stepping back, Jack led her towards the fire which she stoked with her wand, watching the flames dance before her eyes as he handed out the fruit and drinks before beginning to roast the drumsticks on the fire.
No sooner had she begun to relax, though, than the air shifted around them in a way Lyra recognised. Her heart in her mouth, she gently probed the thickening air with the tip of her wand, recognising the spell that had been silently cast to prevent Apparition as a low burst of laughter filled the clearing.
“Well, what have we here?” drawled a man’s voice she did not recognise. “A group of rebel runaways, I suspect; but brother, I confess I cannot take my eyes away from their companion with the wand. If I am not mistaken, we have with us tonight a woman we have spent a long time searching for on our master’s command. Lyra Black, won’t you turn to face your captors?”
There could be no doubt that it was a pair of Death Eaters lying in wait, and the man’s words filled her with a dread that turned her to stone. Two brothers who knew her well enough to name her...there could be only one conclusion. With a desperate thrill of terror that threatened to turn her to ice, she slowly turned to face her fate.
“Let the others walk away,” Lyra said, her wand outstretched and her voice far stronger than she felt as she faced down two of the most dangerous wizards ever to have been housed behind Azkaban’s once impenetrable walls. “You have no use for them; you are far above hunting down Muggleborns on your master’s orders, after all.”
The taller of the two Lestrange brothers – Rabastan, she thought – allowed his thin lips to curve back into a smile that struck straight at her heart. “Indeed we are. We seek far more precious prizes, my lady, and a Pureblood member of the Order will do nicely; particularly when it comes in as lovely a package as you.”
“Leave her alone!” Jack shouted, and without missing a beat she span towards him to cast a Shield charm that deflected the vicious spell Rodolphus shot at him.
“Go!” she said fiercely. “I have a wand, I can defend myself – you cannot. All of you, get out of here. I can look after myself, but I can’t keep you four safe too.”
“We can’t just leave you -”
“If you stay, they’ll kill you.”
Her bleak words were confirmed by Rabastan’s low burst of laughter as he lovingly fingered his wand. “And take great pleasure in doing so, I assure you. But if you depart now to leave us alone with Lyra, I give you my word that you and she will live.”
Jack seemed torn, but they were out of choices. Neither he nor the witches he was with had wands, and though tears filled her eyes, Lyra gestured to the trees. “Go,” she said one last time, and as Rabastan and Rodolphus edged closer they disappeared into the night, abandoning her to the mercy of the Lestrange brothers with nothing but her wits and her wand to protect herself.
- 32
- 33
- 34
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Raven's Song