Chapter 2
The year went by exceptionally fast. Lydia decided it was best to stay away from the secret room she found deep in the dungeons, as she was still uncomfortable with the knowledge she’d gained. Instead she focused on her classes and friendships.
She became close with Pansy. Lydia had always felt a bit distant from those around her, but she was able to be her authentic self around the bright young witch. It scared her, but at the same time, she appreciated their bond and how close they had become throughout the year. Through her tough exterior, Pansy was a girl with deep insecurities and trauma. Her parents weren’t death eaters but they were sympathetic to the cause. Her home life wasn’t the perfect image she displayed to the rest of the world. Many pureblood families gave the impression that their lives were perfect, that nothing could go wrong, they had it all figured out. Lydia learned over time that her mother was cold, distant, and obsessed with image, demanding Pansy to play the role of a perfect pureblood daughter. Her father was worse, when he would drink he’d lash out at her and her mother. Emotionally, Physically, and Sexually. He would berate them and tell them how much he hated them. One night, Lydia walked into their dormitory and saw Pansy uncontrollably sobbing by the fireplace.
“Pansy are you okay?” She said as she rushed over to the crying girl. Pansy couldn’t respond through her heaves and Lydia pulled the girl into a tight hug and told her it would all be okay. She had never comforted someone this way. Whenever Ginny would cry, she didn’t know what to do, and would let Molly deal with it.
“No it won’t” Pansy said between her now muffled crying. “She’s there alone with him.”
“Who?” Asked Lydia.
“My mom” She hugged Lydia even harder. “I know what he’s doing to her, he’s probably doing it even more than he did when I was there. She—she was like a ghost during the Holidays.”
After trying to compose herself, Pansy told her the whole story. She told her how when her father got drunk he would rape her mother and how she could hear her screams from across the manor. “He would use the cruciatus on both of us and then drag her to his room.” Lydia’s heart sank at hearing that. Her wonderful, beautiful friend had to endure that. “I’ll always be here for you, I promise.” She said to her, looking sincerely into her eyes. She meant it. Pansy spent that night in Lydia’s bed, finding comfort in the girl that had become her best friend. Lydia promised herself that day that she would never close herself off to her and would be by her side no matter what.
They walked side by side into the Great Hall for breakfast. Pansy chatted idly about an upcoming Potions assignment, her voice light, controlled—so carefully put together that if Lydia hadn’t been there last night, she wouldn’t have known anything was wrong. She played along, but was being attentive to Pansy’s body language in case she needed anything.
They made their way through the day, Pansy acting as if nothing had happened. But Lydia could tell that she wasn’t her usual self, just by the slightest trouble she was having with her magic. It was unfocused. No one else would have been none the wiser to notice the tiniest crack in her brave facade. When class ended, as they walked toward the Slytherin common room, Lydia kept her voice casual. “Are you sure you’re alright, Pans?” Pansy glanced at her, then scoffed lightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Lydia didn’t press. She just looped her arm through Pansy’s as they walked, offering warmth without words. And Pansy let her.
They spent the next week attached at the hip. Pansy seemed relieved to have opened up to someone, even if at the same time she was ashamed of herself for it.
After double potions with the Gryffindors, Harry approached Lydia while she and Pansy were walking out the door.
“Lydia, can I talk to you?”
She looked over at Pansy and the girl nodded her head, gave her a quick hug and went off with Theo. Lydia didn’t want to leave her alone.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in awhile,” said Harry, “I’ve missed you.”
Even though she was slightly annoyed, she was glad to speak to Harry again. “Do you want to go for a walk?” He asked her.
Lydia nodded. He stuffed his hands into his robe pockets as they stepped out into the corridor. The other students went past them, heading in different directions, but Lydia and Harry took a slower pace, falling into step beside each other.
“So,” Lydia said after a moment, glancing at him. “What’s on your mind?”
Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Just… everything, I guess.” He hesitated before adding, “You.”
“Me?” She acted surprised, even though she wasn’t. Her kindness and flirting towards him had paid off.
Harry nodded. “Like I said, I feel like I haven’t seen you much lately. It seems like you’re always with Parkinson.” He seemed put out. Upset that she was close friends with her.
This irritated Lydia, but she suppressed her irritation and gave him a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “You could always come talk to me, you know.”
“I know,” Harry said, a little sheepish. “But I guess it’s harder when you’re always surrounded by people who don’t exactly… like me.”
Lydia looked at him. “They don’t hate you, Harry.” Obviously they hated him. He was the brash Gryffindor always trying to steal the spotlight. Not to mention many of the Slytherin students' parents suffered after You-Know-Who’s downfall. She’d heard the older ones discussing Harry with utter disgust that shocked even Lydia. They were young when he fell, but old enough to understand.
He gave her a look.
“Okay, fine,” she relented. “They’re not your biggest fans. But that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me.” She nudged him playfully.
“I know, that’s why I asked to talk now.”
“What do you want to talk about?” She asked him.
“I guess I just, I mean, we used to hang out more, before—” He stopped himself.
“Before what?”
Harry shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Before you started spending more time with your Slytherin friends.”
Ugh, what was his fucking problem. Well, of course she knew what his problem was. Her friends were cruel towards him, and especially towards Hermione. She knew they toned things down with Ron when she was around, but she wasn’t oblivious to the snide comments.
“I do want to spend time with you,” she sighed “do you want to go to the lake tonight?” The lake? What was she thinking?
He smiled with almost too much enthusiasm. “Yes, meet you after dinner?”
“Of course,” she squeezed his hand and walked away.
—
That evening, after dinner, Lydia made her way down to the lake, the cool night air brushing against her skin. The stars were bright above, their reflections shimmering in the black water. She spotted Harry already sitting near the edge on a blanket, his arms resting on his knees as he skipped stones across the surface.
She laughed as she approached him. “That’s a terrible throw.”
Harry turned, grinning. “I’d like to see you do better.”
She plopped down beside him, picking up a smooth stone and tossing it effortlessly. It bounced three times before sinking. She shot him a smug look.
Harry laughed. “Alright, fine. You win.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the peaceful sounds of the lake surrounding them.
“So, what’s on your mind?” she asked, keeping her voice casual.
Harry sighed, leaning back on his palms. “I guess… I just feel like I’m always trying to catch up. Everyone else knows so much more than me about magic, about this world.”
“It’s not a race, you know.” Of course it was, how could you become powerful without seeing everyone as competition? This boy was utterly ridiculous. She guessed it didn’t matter to him since he had already defeated the greatest dark lord to ever live.
Harry exhaled. “I know, but I still feel behind. I don’t even know anything about my own family.”
Time to use her sob story. “I understand how you feel, I really do Harry, you’re not alone. I want you to know that.”
He seemed more at ease. “You’re the best.”
She continued consoling him about his many woes as they stayed by the lake for a while longer before eventually making their way back to the castle. As they were approaching the dungeons (Harry insisted on escorting her again) she heard the voices of Draco, Theo, and Pansy. Draco stepped out from around the corner first, stopping when he saw Lydia and Harry walking together. His grey eyes flickered between them, landing on where their arms had briefly brushed against each other.
“Well, well,” Draco drawled, folding his arms. “Didn’t realize you had taken to escorting Slytherins to their door, Potter.”
Harry immediately became bitter. “It’s none of your business, Malfoy.”
Draco stepped forward, turning to Lydia. “Didn’t realize you and Potter were so close.”
She stepped forward as well, “And why exactly do you care, Draco?” She said his name sweetly, a smirk playing on her lips.
Draco scoffed. “I don’t.”
Harry was clearly fed up, “we were having a conversation, Malfoy. I didn’t realize Lydia needed your permission for that.”
Pansy looked amused at the back and forth playing out, but also had a hint of curiosity, like she was seeing something for the first time. Theo just looked bored.
“She doesn’t,” Draco said, “but I see the way you watch her every time she walks into a room. Does the famous Harry Potter have a crush?” He said mockingly. “I’m surprised you’re not into that mudblood you’re always fraternizing with. Although, your mother was a filthy mudblood wasn’t she? Can’t believe your father ruined his line with you.”
Lydia could practically feel the heat radiating off Harry as he glared at Draco. Honestly, the two of them should just duel and get it over with—except, knowing them, they’d both find a way to drag it out into something dramatic and unnecessary. The Boy Who Lived versus The Boy Who Complained, featuring another thrilling episode of Who Can Be More Insufferable Today?
“You act like you’re better than everyone else, Malfoy, but deep down you know you’re just another coward hiding behind his family name.”
Lydia barely held back a groan. Original. Very cutting. I’m sure he’ll be up all night thinking about that one.
Draco, of course, smirked, because that’s what Draco did. “That’s rich, coming from you, Potter. Your whole existence is built on something you didn’t even do.” Draco’s gaze flickered toward her, just for a second, like he was waiting to see whose side she’d take.
She refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she sighed dramatically and let her lips curl into a smirk. “You two do realize you sound like an old married couple, right?” she mused, crossing her arms. “All this passion—it’s honestly a bit much. Should I leave you alone to sort out your feelings?”
“HA” Pansy let out a laugh, and Theo chuckled to himself.
Harry, meanwhile, looked like she had just short-circuited his brain.
Draco, ever the performer, recovered first. “Trust me, Potter’s not my type,” he drawled, lazily flicking his eyes back to her. “But maybe he’s yours?”
Oh, please. Lydia had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. As if she would actually entertain the idea of developing real feelings or getting wrapped up in Harry Potter’s moral crusade. She’d get close to him, but actually participating in his senseless acts of bravado? “Oh, Draco,” she purred, tilting her head, “jealousy doesn’t suit you.”
Draco scoffed, looking supremely unimpressed, but Harry—Harry—was standing there like he had just forgotten how to function as a human being. His ears were turning pink. Merlin’s beard, this is too easy.
Maybe she should feel guilty for this, but honestly? If she had to suffer through this ridiculous back-and-forth, she might as well get something out of it.
“I’ll see you later, Harry,” and she giggled with Pansy into the common room.
—-
It was late May when Lydia finally received a letter back from Bill. She was surprised that he hadn’t gotten back to her sooner. A bit hurt actually. She put her pride aside and opened the letter.
Dear Lydia,
I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to respond. Things at Gringotts have been more chaotic than usual, and I haven’t had as much time to write as I’d like.
I was relieved to hear it was just curiosity that led you to ask about Rodolphus Lestrange, but I’ll admit… something about it hasn’t sat right with me. You’re not the type to take an interest in people like him without a reason.
I’ll see you this summer and hopefully we can talk if you need.
Stay safe, alright?
With love,
Bill
She was resigned to tell Bill everything when she got home that summer. She couldn’t keep holding it in and knew he was someone she could trust. It pained her to admit that. Admitting secrets was a weakness. And one of this magnitude?? Merlin, what was wrong with her. She needed to control her emotions.
Dear Bill,
I understand, I know how busy you are. You don’t have to apologize.
You’re right—I do want to talk to you. There’s a lot I need to say, and I think I just needed time to figure out how. But I don’t want to do it through letters. I’d rather wait until I’m home this summer.
Thank you for always looking out for me. It means more than I can say.
Love,
Lydia
—-
The end of the term came quickly. She took her exams and thought she did exceptionally well, especially in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. She chastised Harry, Ron, and Hermione for their foolish escapade with the Sorcerer's Stone. How could they be so reckless? Gryffindor’s really were the most foolhardy house. Ron didn’t really care what she thought but Hermione conceded it was dangerous of them. Harry was too distracted by the fact he had come face to face with Voldemort. She tried to console him and thought it worked, but not to the extent she would have liked. Why were they all so annoying?
The train was filled with the sounds of students after another year at Hogwarts. Lydia sat with her fellow Slytherins and made her way to the Gryffindors for the last leg of the trip. She wanted to spend time with Harry before they were separated for the summer. He promised to write to her and was genuinely sad to not see her again until the following year. Her plan was working.
She gave Harry an apologetic look when she met the Dursleys and saw how horrible they were. For that, she actually did take a great deal of pity on him. Maybe Pansy was right about muggles. These ones were certainly repulsive.
—
The Burrow greeted her with warm hugs and the scent of delicious food from the kitchen. Bill was there and she was thrilled to see him, but at the same time was a nervous wreck about what she was going to tell him. UGH How stupid could she be?? She wanted to slam her head into a wall. Finally plucking up her courage (and stupidity), she and Bill sat on top of the hill near their house.
“So why did you ask about Lestrange?” He inquired.
“It’s a lot and you have to promise you won’t tell a soul, not Aunt Molly, not Uncle Arthur.” She rambled nervously. So not like her.
He looked a bit concerned. Great. “I won’t, I promise. But what’s going on?”
“A couple months into the school year I was exploring the dungeons and I found a room.” She exhaled. “It wasn’t just any room, only people related to Salazar Slytherin could open it. A snake spoke to me, and I spoke back. It told me what to do to get in. The room accepted me.” She looked down at her feet, unable to show him her frustration.
He looked at her inquisitively. “So you’re saying you’re related to Salazar Slytherin? That’s impossible. We know our family history. I mean I guess your father could be. But I can’t imagine your mother ever being with a Slytherin, let alone his heir.”
“My father was a Slytherin, but he’s not the one related to Salazar. There was a book there, that magically wrote down the descendants as they were born, and died. He’s Rodolphus Lestrange, that’s why I asked about him.”
“What?” He said, gaping at her. “I… that’s crazy, Valerie wouldn’t have been with him, she was a part of the Order.”
“I know, it was hard for me to believe at first, but the text is accurate, it’s magically enchanted to identify and record the lineage. I guess Salazar wanted his ancestors to know their history. The room called to me. And it probably did for anyone that was at Hogwarts. I’m just surprised my mother was in Gryffindor, so I’m assuming she never found it, but who knows. The sorting hat did tell me that he wanted to put her in Slytherin but she refused.”
“That’s… a lot. But if you’re not related to Slytherin through Lestrange, then who?” He asked. His calmness emboldened her.
She picked her nails and looked at him. “That’s the hardest part to tell you. Charles Prewett isn’t my grandfather like he is yours. Our grandmother, Doris, had an affair with someone named Morfin Gaunt. I did some research and found out he died in Azkaban in the 60’s for murdering some muggles. Grandma had my mom the year he went to Azkaban.”
“Lydia, this is huge. Have you told anyone?”
“No, how could I? I guess I could tell Pansy, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. It’s too much.”
“Pansy?” He asked.
“Yeah, Pansy Parkinson. She’s my best friend.”
“Hmph, Parkinson eh?” He frowned.
She laughed, “don’t start.”
—
Later in the summer, after receiving her letter from Hogwarts, Pansy demanded that Lydia meet them (herself, Theo, Draco) in Diagon Alley the following Wednesday. She chuckled at Pansy’s ability to manipulate others into doing what she wanted. Not that Lydia could ever be manipulated. Obviously she wanted to see them. Didn’t need Pansy to force her.
“Aunt Molly? When are we going to Diagon Alley to get school supplies?” She asked her sweetly.
“I’m not sure yet sweetie, sometime next week I believe.”
“Great! Can we go on Wednesday? I want to meet up with some friends.”
“Yes, that should work dear,” she responded, not entirely focused on the conversation. Lydia didn’t mind, as long as she was there.
—
The Weasley clan, Lydia, and Harry floo’d to Diagon Alley the next Wednesday. The boys thought the best course of action was to take a flying car all the way to Surrey to pick up Harry. Once again, she couldn’t comprehend them.
Harry, of course, got lost in Knockturn Alley. That made her jealous, along with Fred and George, though they only wanted to go there because it was forbidden. Lydia had heard about it from Draco, and thought Borgin and Burkes would be interesting. Apparently he had been there with his father when they all arrived.
Pansy saw her, ran, and almost tackled her to the ground in a hug. Mr. Malfoy gave her a patronizing look and she flushed. Draco, Theo and Blaise walked up behind and said hello and that they were happy to see her after their time apart. The Weasley’s looked a bit uncomfortable. Especially with Lucious around. Lydia made sure to hurry off before the imminent confrontation that would take place. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with such unnecessary drama.
First they went to Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor. After that, Draco wanted to buy a new cage for his eagle owl. He spent forever looking at the cages and making sure he chose the most expensive one. Lydia looked longingly at a beautiful snowy owl. Harry’s owl, Hedwig, was beautiful and she was extremely jealous she didn’t have one of her own. She hated being poor. Draco noticed and came up behind her.
“I’m buying her for you.” He said assertively.
She looked at him wide eyed. “Draco no, you can’t do that.”
“I know you’ve always wanted an owl and father gave me 100 galleons to spend today on whatever I want. It’s nothing, it actually helps me because I won’t have to hear you complain about not having an owl of your own this year.”
Composing herself, she thanked him. Was it strange Draco Malfoy was buying her an owl? Yes. Would she turn it down? No way. She’d dreamed of an owl her whole life. If she had to use him to get what she wanted, she would.
They all spent the next few hours laughing and enjoying each other's company until Lydia decided it was time to find the Weasley’s.
She found them in Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasion. Ginny was still being fitted for hers. As she walked in, Ron looked at her in astonishment.
“How did you get that??” He demanded rudely. “You don’t have money for an owl, especially one that nice.”
“My friend bought it for me.”
“What friend would buy you that?” He scoffed.
“Draco,” she said, giving Ron a hard glare. “He saw me looking at it and bought it. Isn’t she gorgeous?”
Aunt Molly was listening to their conversation and joined in. “Well that was nice of him, I never expected a Malfoy to be generous.”
Arthur looked disconcerted.
As they were walking out, Lydia overheard Harry mutter to Hermione, “I should have thought of that.”
Interesting she thought, as she smiled to herself.
—
When they returned home, she set up her owl in her cage, who she named Athena. She then sat down to write a letter to Draco, thanking him.
Dear Draco,
I still can’t believe you actually bought me an owl. Every time I look at her, I feel like I’m dreaming. I don’t think I’ve ever had something this nice that was just mine before. Thank you—really. I know you tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was, at least to me.
I named her Athena. I figured if she was going to be my owl, she needed a name that suited her—wise, strong, a warrior. She’s already nipped at Ron’s fingers, so I think she’ll fit in just fine.
Speaking of Ron, you should’ve seen his face when I told him you bought her for me. I think he nearly had a stroke. Harry, too. I don’t think they quite know what to do with the idea of a ‘generous Malfoy.’ Aunt Molly actually said it was nice of you, though Uncle Arthur looked confused.
I’ll keep this short since I’ll see you at school soon, but I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate it. It means more than I can say.
Thank you, Draco.
Lydia
P.S. If you ever say I was sentimental in this letter, I’ll hex you the second we get back to Hogwarts.
She sent Athena off with her letter. The next day, Draco’s eagle owl came flying through the window during breakfast.
“Isn’t that Malfoy’s owl?” Said Ron in an annoyed tone.
“Yes, he’s just responding to my letter thanking him for Athena.” She said as she opened her letter and read to herself.
Lydia,
You’re being dramatic. It was an owl, not a priceless artifact. If I’d known it would turn you into a sap, I might’ve reconsidered.
Athena suits you, I suppose. Smart, stubborn, and prone to biting people who annoy her.
I’ll admit, the thought of Weasley’s face when you told him I bought it for you is almost as satisfying as knowing you finally have an owl of your own. That alone makes it worth it. You should’ve sent me a sketch of the moment.
Draco
P.S. I will be holding onto this letter as proof that you were sentimental, just in case I ever need leverage.
She laughed and tucked the letter into her pocket. He wouldn’t dare to cross her.
—
A couple days before they would go to Kings Cross, Harry and Lydia were in her room talking. She shared it with Ginny but she was downstairs playing Exploding Snap with Ron. This was a prime opportunity to develop things with Harry. Draco making him jealous was the perfect catalyst.
“Are you excited to go back?” Harry asked her.
“Yeah it’ll be nice to get back to classes.” She replied.
He rolled his eyes. “Of course you want to get back to homework.”
She laughed
Harry hesitated, then glanced at Athena. “So… Malfoy bought you an owl.”
“Yep.”
“That’s unexpected.”
She gave him a flirty smile and rolled her eyes. “Don’t start.”
“I just mean… If you really wanted one you could have asked me.” He said shyly.
“I didn’t ask Draco for an owl, he basically forced me to accept it.”
“I guess I just don’t get it, he’s Malfoy, it doesn’t make sense for him to be nice.”
She laid back and stared at the ceiling. Pondering his words.
—
The next morning she received a letter from Pansy.
Dear Lydia,
Alright, now I’m convinced—Potter has a crush on you. Don’t even try to deny it. The way he looked at you when he saw that owl? Priceless. Honestly, if I had known he’d react like that, I would’ve told Draco to make a whole show of it just to see Potter squirm.
Speaking of which… you do realize Draco is also acting weird about you, right? He tries to play it cool, but come on. He doesn’t just buy gifts like that for people. If Theo or Blaise had asked him for an owl, he’d have laughed in their faces. But you? He just decides to get you one without hesitation? Please. He definitely fancies you.
Love,
Pansy
—
Pansy,
You’re right about Harry. Maybe. I did notice the way he looked at me when he saw the owl, and I guess it was kind of obvious. He did tell me that he would’ve bought me one if I had asked him.
And Draco? You’re the one who’s delusional. He doesn’t fancy me. He was just being dramatic and showing off. You know how he is—if he really liked me, he’d be a lot less nice, let’s be honest. He just likes spending money to make a point. That’s all.
Love,
Lydia
—
Dear Lydia,
Harry admitted he wanted to buy you an owl???? Do you think he’s just going around offering to buy gifts for everyone? No. That’s not how this works. He’s trying to prove something to you. He probably feels like Malfoy one-upped him, and now he’s sulking about it. It would be adorable, in a pathetic sort of way, if it wasn’t Potter.
As for Draco… You are blind. Absolutely blind. If you think he’s just “showing off,” you clearly don’t understand him as well as you think you do. Draco loves being dramatic, sure, but he’s not generous. If he were just making a point, he’d have done something flashy, made sure everyone saw, and then never spoken about it again. But he didn’t. He bought you an owl and kept quiet about it. That means something.
Face it—both of them fancy you. You, my dear, need to catch up.
We’re all going to witness the most ridiculous love triangle of the century, aren’t we?
Can’t wait to see you.
All my love,
Pansy