Chapter 11: A Little Story from the Past
"Then it's settled, Miss Hamilton," Dumbledore said before leaving, nodding to confirm one last time. "Once you have your new wand, I will notify the Ministry of Magic."
"Mm... mm!" Lyra pressed her lips together and clenched her fists, looking like she could hardly wait.
Seeing her so motivated, Dumbledore gave a small chuckle, then pushed open the door and left.
"Um... Miss Hamilton." Lupin saw her expression and instinctively wanted to give her a warning. From what he knew of the Ministry, the work probably wouldn't be that interesting. But as he started to speak, he worried he might be disrupting Dumbledore's plan... He opened and closed his mouth awkwardly, finally just saying, "Your wand likely won't be ready for a little while."
"You should just rest well for the next few days."
With that, he pushed open the door to leave.
"P-Please... wait... Mr. Lupin." To his surprise, the timid girl called out to him.
"Is something wrong?" Lupin paused, turning back slightly.
"Um... are there any books... about Magic Formations...?" Lyra asked in a small voice. "And... parchment and a quill, perhaps...?"
"I... I want to do some research... for the next few days..."
"Is that so?" Lupin felt a headache coming on. He'd never even heard of such books...
"If it's too much trouble, then please forget it... S-Sorry... for asking..." Lyra's voice trailed off.
Seeing her like this, Lupin sighed softly. "I'll go to the bookstore and see."
"Th-Then... thank you so much! You're being too kind to me, Mr. Lupin!"
Click.
As the door closed, Lupin stood outside for a few seconds... He really was being a bit too kind to Miss Hamilton...
But why?
Was it because she was his friend?
Or... was it because she was like him?
The thought of the girl, trying so hard to hide her ears and hair under her hood, made Lupin shake his head.
How could that be?
How could a filthy werewolf and a Veela possibly be the same?
He walked away, his steps weary.
Lyra, inside the room, was completely unaware of this. She was lying happily on the bed in a starfish pose, her pointed ears twitching with excitement.
I'm about to see the Magic Formation mechanisms that pure-blood wizards have treasured for years! Will there be any Father never mentioned? Or those one-of-a-kind...
Lyra wished she could go with the Ministry people right this instant...
Wait...
Lyra suddenly frowned.
Aren't I supposed to be fighting for Lord Grindelwald's great cause? How did I suddenly end up colluding with the Ministry to investigate so-called Dark artifacts?! And at Dumbledore's request, no less...
What on earth have I agreed to!
Lyra thrashed on the bed, rolling back and forth until her head hit the corner of the table.
"Oof."
Rubbing her slightly sore forehead, Lyra clenched her fists.
I'm doing this to research Magic Formations, and then I'll use that knowledge to advance Lord Grindelwald's great cause... What 'helping Dumbledore and the Ministry'? I'm the one using them! That's right, using them!
Lyra took a deep breath, having found a suitable justification for herself.
Still, she really was tired after running around all day... Maybe... I'll rest for a bit...
She closed her eyes, and before long, she was deeply asleep.
"Lyra... come." In a sunlit courtyard, a kind middle-aged man sat on a chair, beckoning to a small, timid girl standing under the eaves. "Daddy has your favorite 'sparkle' to show you."
"S-Sparkle..." Lyra pressed her lips together, looking up at her mother, who held her hand. She was a beautiful young woman with a pair of pointed ears and golden, almost-silver, hair.
"Go on, take a look," she said softly, letting go of her hand.
And so, Lyra, who had the same silver hair, trotted over to her father's side.
"Look... this is it." Her father gently stroked Lyra's head as he handed her a small pendant.
As Lyra's hand touched the pendant, the small, star-shaped charm began to shimmer with a faint light.
"So... so pretty!" Lyra whispered, holding the pendant up high.
"It's just like a star in the sky."
"It is a star from the sky," her father laughed. He looked at his happy daughter and said, "Just like you... Magic Formations are as dazzling as the stars in heaven."
"Magic... Formations?" The girl looked at her father, confused.
"The Study of Magic Formations is the discipline of using Ancient Runes and spells to engrave magic onto objects..." The middle-aged man hadn't finished speaking before the young woman, who had walked over, tapped him on the forehead.
"Philip... you know Lyra is only six," she said, exasperated. "Even if you want to teach her, isn't it far too early?"
"Not at all..." Philip replied with a smile. "It's never too early to learn about Magic Formations."
"Right!" The girl, clutching the pendant, suddenly looked up. "I'm going to be a Formation Master just like Daddy! I'm going to make Magic Formations... famous!"
"Hahahahahaha." Philip burst out laughing, and the young woman beside him chuckled as well.
"Then Daddy will be waiting for little Lyra," Philip said, scooping his daughter up into his arms. "When you become a great Formation Master, don't forget your old dad, alright?"
"And your mother," the young woman leaned down and left a kiss on the girl's forehead. "Your mother has provided quite a few lunches for the future great Formation Master, you know..."
"O-Okay!" The girl pressed her lips together and nodded. "When the time comes, Lyra will make Daddy and Mommy be Lyra's students!"
"Hahahaha." The two looked at each other and laughed even harder.
As the child watched, confused, their laughter finally subsided. Philip shook his head gently. "Daddy doesn't want Lyra to be some great Formation Master. Lyra just needs to be herself."
"After all..." he paused, then shook his head with a touch of resignation.
"Alright... Philip. Don't say those things in front of the child." The young woman interrupted him, smiling at the girl instead.
"Now then, Professor Lyra... can you tell Mommy what you'd like to eat today?"
"Eat... apple pie!"
"Alright... apple pie it is!"
Philip smiled as he watched the young woman lead Lyra away, until they had completely disappeared from the courtyard.
"..."
"Sigh..." After a long time, he let out a soft sigh and slowly picked up the letter from the table.
It was an ordinary, unremarkable-looking letter, save for its elegant script and considerable length.
But none of that was the important part...
Philip's gaze lowered, resting on the sender's name.
"Gellert Grindelwald."