𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖝

trials and tribulations

If Lyra had to pick a time where the Marauders were the most insufferable, it would be April Fools.

Unfortunately for everyone else in the castle, their celebrations lasted an entire week rather than just a day. It commenced with a prank on the staff, then the week was filled with prank wars between them and other students, before finally concluding with a grand gesture against the Slytherins.

In the year 1976, they had the genius idea of sending a Howler to none other than McGonagall. Her lip twitched as the voices of James and Sirius argued with each other for her affection, before a barrage of poor attempts at flirting were shot at her, all the while Dumbledore and the other teachers chuckled and snorted into their goblets of pumpkin juice.

As for the annual prank wars, the four boys mainly focused their good-natured carnage at the Hufflepuff fourth years and Ravenclaw seventh years. Their excuse was that the badgers needed to grow a backbone, and that the ravens should learn to loosen up once in a while.

At long last, Thursday morning had arrived. Everyone watched with bated breath as the Marauders swaggered into the Great Hall only a few minutes before breakfast was meant to end. They sat and crunched on their toast in uncharacteristic silence, before leaving obediently on time for Potions first period.

If you knew anything about the great rivalry between the Gryffindors and Slytherins, then you would know that this wasn't meant to be mistaken as an act of maturity. Oh, no — it was more so a warning to the snakes that they wouldn't know what hit them.

Literally.

It all started at dinner. The Bloody Baron had made a comment about Nearly Headless Nick, calling him both a coward for not severing the rest of himself, and an attention-seeker for his title being ❛Nearly Headless❜. This resulted in a fusillade of insults being thrown back and forth between Amycus and Sirius, until Mulciber, Wilkes, Avery, James, Remus, and Peter got involved.

That was when the first piece of food was thrown. Peter had catapulted one of his roast potatoes in the direction of the Slytherin table, hitting Alecto square in the nose. In retaliation, Barty flung a goblet of water, which splattered itself all across the front of Lily Evans' robes. Within seconds the rest of the two houses were involved; food was flying over the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables whilst some students were ducking under the benches in fear of being caught in the crossfire.

It wasn't until Dolohov unsheathed his wand — presumably about to spit out a nasty curse — that the teachers put a stop to the anarchy. As a punishment, the Marauders and almost all of the Slytherins were put into detention for a month.

Including Lyra. Despite her lack of involvement (admittedly, she may have chucked a spoonful of mashed potato or two) she had been succumbed to the torture of cleaning the Gryffindor Qudditch Team's uniforms and scrubbing bedpans with Madam Pomfrey whilst a frail Remus lay fast asleep in the corner of the ward. Honestly, what was she, a house elf?

After an exhausting day she wanted nothing more than to settle between her silk covers and call it a day, but she couldn't. OWLs were on the horizon, and whilst education wasn't preferred but not necessary for a proper pure-blood woman, the Lestrange girl refused to be second-best to witches like Lily Evans — she wasn't even a real witch, after all.

So, Lyra hesitantly made the lengthy walk to the library. Madam Pince frowned as the brunette entered, and even a few second year Hufflepuffs scattered as she took a seat at the available table beside theirs.

She had barely managed to fill in her empty star chart for Astronomy (a complex essay on Jupiter and it's moons was still awaiting her) when in came a group of fifth year Gryffindor girls.

They were all there — apart from Lily — crowding around a table in the corner of a library. Marlene McKinnon, an admittedly pretty blonde was sat on the surface, swinging her long legs. Leaning against a bookshelf behind her was Dorcas Meadowes, a dark-skinned girl with bouncy curls and green eyes. With them were the rest of the gaggle: Alice Fortescue and Mary Macdonald.

The Lestrange girl didn't attempt to hide her distaste, rolling her dark eyes as they walked past her. It was only after several fits of giggles and the very loud scraping of a chair that she made the effort to confront them, having re-read the same sentence in her Transfiguration textbook twice!

''Do you mind?'' Lyra asked, twisting her body to face the four girls. ''I'm aware your kind tends to be uncivilized and rowdy, but some of us are actually trying to pass our exams.''

''We don't need to try,'' Dorcas chirped, swinging her arm around Marlene as the witch laughed. ''You, on the other hand, might . . . has all the generational inbreeding in your family caught up to you yet?''

''I'd rather be inbred than a pathetic half-blood,'' the pure-blood retorted, raising an eye-brow at the two girl's display of affection. ''And one with no self-respect, at that — we've all heard the stories about how you and your friend like to get around, Meadowes.''

''And what if we do, Lestrange?'' Marlene wondered, narrowing her bright eyes. ''What are you going to do about it? Get your psychotic brothers on to us?''

''No. But I will recommend you seek advice on contraceptive charms in the infirmary. Merlin knows we don't need anymore Mudblood-lovers procreating and producing disgraces like Macdonald over there.''

''What did you just call me?'' Mary demanded, sitting up from her slumped position.

Alice squirmed in the chair beside her, clearly not a fan of confrontation.

''I didn't call you anything,'' Lyra pointed out. ''I alluded to what you are — a Mudblood.''

Marlene whipped out her wand immediately. ''Furnunculus!''

Lyra yelped out in pain as boils began to brew on the length of her arm. They appeared rapidly, oozing a thick mucus whilst popping through the fabric of her robes.

''Silencio!''

The McKinnon girl almost toppled back as the force of the spell hit her, falling into Alice's lap as she clutched at her throat pitifully.

Before it was Dorcas' turn to do some damage, Professor Slughorn burst between the girls, disarming them both at once.

''In my long years of teaching, never have I seen such disappointing behaviour from ladies!'' He chastised, shaking his head in disappointment before turning to Lyra. ''Oh dear, Miss Lestrange. You best get to the Hospital Wing as fast as possible. And what's wrong with you?'' He grunted at Marlene, glancing at Dorcas, Alice, and Mary, who were all silently fuming.

''You'll have to excuse her, sir. McKinnon over there has a nasty cold so she can't speak at the moment,'' Lyra tutted, rushing off to go and find Madam Pomfrey.

Luckily, the corridors weren't too crowded — she didn't need any more people to see the ugliness of her arm than necessary.

Unluckily, Remus Lupin was wide awake this time round as Lyra entered the infirmary. There was a stack of pillows propping him up whilst his tired eyes scanned over a book titled ❛Emma❜ — by the looks of the cover, it was a Muggle book.

''We're closed for the night— oh, Miss Lestrange! I know a Pimple Jinx when I see one,'' the matron sighed, starting to root around through her cupboards. ''You're lucky I've still got some Boil-Cure potion brewed.''

Lyra perched herself on one of the hospital beds, placing her belongings on to the bedside table. ''Apologies, Madam Pomfrey. None of this would've happened if it wasn't for the member of a certain house,'' she mumbled, glancing at a curious Remus, before downing the potion that was held out to her.

''Yes, yes, I'm sure of it,'' the woman dismissed. ''You can stay here until the effects kick in. I'll be in my office if you need me.''

The brunette nodded, frowning at having to fluff her own pillows before laying down on her side. Her arm began to tingle as the boils began to flatten and fade, but there were a few that had even risen up to her neck.

She was fiddling with the hem of her skirt, concerned by her vanity, when in walked Lily through the double-doors. The redhead's cheeks were flushed with anger, yet she attempted to keep her demeanor composed as she approached the end of Lyra's bed.

''Evans,'' she groaned. ''May I help you?''

''I need you to reverse the silencing charm you cast on Marlene,'' she ordered.

''Slughorn has my wand. But even if he didn't, I wouldn't, not until I'm sure that my appearance will return to normal.''

''You know perfectly well it will, Lestrange. Not that you deserve it after what you called Mary, of course.''

Remus staggered over from his end of the room, coming to a stop beside Lily. In all her fury she looked surprised to see him there, not having noticed the lump of his lanky figure upon entering.

''What did she call Mary?'' He wondered, the Muggle book still in his hand.

''A highly offensive term.''

''A highly offensive term,'' Lyra mocked, laughing to herself. ''I simply spoke the truth, Evans. If the truth offends you, then that isn't my problem. Both you and Macdonald have non-magical parents, don't you? That makes you—''

''She called Mary a Mudblood!'' Lily cried, rounding on Remus. ''Don't you have any idea how upset she is?''

Remus stared at Lyra hard for a good moment, pursing her lips. He wasn't surprised, to say the least — after all, even her appearance radiated aristocracy. The fact that she was a Sacred Twenty-Eight Slytherin simply confirmed the presumed bigotry instilled in her.

''I can imagine,'' he finally said at last.

''So can I,'' Lily clipped, turning back to Lyra. ''Well?''

''Well, what?'' She repeated, blinking at the two Gryffindors in front of her. ''Is there something special you're waiting for?''

''An apology would be a good start,'' the redhead demanded, crossing her arms. ''To Mary and Marlene.''

''In your wildest dreams, Evans.''

''Unless you want people to find out about this,'' she shrugged; Remus had fished the book Lyra had bought under-the-counter at Flourish and Blotts.

The Lestrange girl stared back at them in confusion. ''Since when is it a crime to read a book?'' She laughed, snatching back the copy of ❛Pride And Prejudice❜.

''It isn't,'' Remus agreed, putting forward his own book. ''But you've been reading a Muggle book. Same author, see?''

''How would your friends take it if they found out the little princess of their group had been indulging in Muggle literature. Not well, I imagine?''

''Jane Austen is a witch. Well, she was formerly, but my point still stands. You have nothing on me.''

''Except we do.''

''Who told you she was a witch? Was it whoever sold you the book?''

''Yes, actually. Not that it's any of your business, but I bought the copy at Flourish and Blotts — a wizarding bookstore.''

''Oh, please. The owner probably saw all your glitz and glam and assumed you had more money than brains, so they tricked you, a pure-blood, into buying a Muggle book.''

''Now, unless you want the whole school to find out you've been reading about how Elizabeth and Mr Darcy's fell in love, you'll reverse the curse and apologise.''

''Do we have a deal?''