The Snake Skinned Lioness (part 1 of 2)

“We were quite lucky to find one matching your requirements at all, Mr Malfoy.” The head of the wizarding orphanage simpered. “I promise you the girl, though a little quiet, is worth your time.” Abraxas Malfoy snorted in derision, he highly doubted it after everything he had heard but his wife was set upon meeting this child; since losing their unborn daughter some months ago, Athena had been insistent on having another child about the Manor even if it was someone else’s. Oh, how she loves a project, Abraxas thought dismissively to himself. The only concessions he’d been able to demand was that it at least look like them to avoid the scandal and have enough magical abilities to make up for it if its origins were ever revealed. He knew Lucius would be unhappy once he returned from Hogwarts for the summer either way, he must at least have an equal if he was to smooth things over with the boy.   He’d told them they were looking for a girl, preferably no more than a decade younger than their son who had either his silver hair or Athena’s golden locks and the potential to become the refined pureblood he needed. They had to be fairly pliable with the necessary talents and such, as well as early or exceptional magical outbursts. A girl who spontaneously turned into an Animagus without the necessary rituals certainly fit the bill but the scarring and problems stemming from the transformations’ origins and a reticence to do so again… well let’s just say it was less than ideal. However, her photograph had intrigued his rather picky wife and her magic was something he wished to see for himself, so he had agreed. “Get on with it then. Honestly, Wattle, I’m not paying you for pleasantries.” His guide nodded and led the way to a small room full of laughing children. Through a hidden viewing portal for potential parents, the Malfoys caught their first glimpse of Lyra Sparrow. The girl was small for her age, made even smaller by her wild mane of golden hair, but she wasn’t stunted or obviously hindered in anyway and her face was pleasant to look at; her golden eyes catching the onlookers attention more than anything else. She seemed to speak a very little, her soft welsh accent only making it through the din on occasion while the wizard talked them through the procedures for what’s to come. Athena watched as the girl moved with a cat-like grace (that she envied for its ease) over to the elderly witch playing the piano and try to copy her movements over the keys. Once it seemed she knew the piece, Lyra wandered over to a hand-made guitar and played it back earning a genuine smile from the pianist that grew larger as she started to sing along. Athena, raised an elegant eyebrow, “She has a beautiful voice,” she murmured. “Yes, it seems to be the only time girl is truly at peace, when she’s playing music that is. She’s a natural with that guitar of hers although I do not suggest you try to take it away.” “Why is that?” Abraxas asked coyly, the beginnings of tension showing in his tone. “Well, one of the older children took it from her not long after she first came here and wouldn’t give it back. She asked him once, nicely, because it’s the only thing of her mother’s she had left to return it and when he refused she went to strike him and instead released a little accidental magic and… threw him across the room,” The wizard said quietly, as much as he didn’t want to tell them this he had no choice given that violence was something the ministry demanded be reported to customers. He was supposed to call them ‘prospective parents’ but with couples who came with shopping lists like the Malfoys it didn’t fit; they were elite customers looking to buy a specific product for a specific need and money was no object; money that would keep the orphanage afloat for a while. He had expected them to change their choice after that, Mrs Malfoy did have three others on her shortlist but instead the pair just exchanged glances and continued. “Is that the only magic she has displayed? Only when it came to defending what is hers?” Abraxas asked. “No, she’s quite the talented healer as it goes. Her friend- the boy with the brown hair and freckles- skinned his knee last week in the playground and she told him to close his eyes and wish really hard and it would go away. She had her hand on the cut at the time and when he opened his eyes it had vanished. It’s remarkable really, considering no one has ever taught her.” Again, the couple before him exchanged inscrutable glances that were beginning to make him uncomfortable. “Then there is the whole incidence of her spontaneous transformation,” “Ah yes, about that. Would we be able to see a repeat of it?” Athena piped up, a strange glow in her eyes like a crow with a puzzle to crack. He gulped and shrugged. “I’m not certain about that I’m afraid. Lyra hasn’t wanted to try it again because of the pain she felt the first time. Said it was like being set on fire. You could ask her though, it would definitely be beneficial to talk to her if you’re serious about the adoption.” “Is it registered?” The wizard nodded, taken aback by the man’s bluntness and lack of patience regarding such an important decision. Abraxas looked at Athena as if to say it’s up to you. On the other hand, he knew once she got bored of the girl’s novelty he would be looking after her or rather the house elves would. He’d already decided she would fit with them as a fine pet if nothing else, something to look at or listen to when guests came by or maybe sell on for a profitable marriage providing she wasn’t too badly marred by her experiences. Sad thing was, is that was all she was to him, a tool, a means to an end, something to satisfy his wife while training his son in the proper way to treat such lowly people. She was a thing they bought to him. He didn’t think a child should only know this however, indeed it would make her unruly if she knew it as it had with his friend Orion’s eldest, and he wouldn’t have that no. It all depended on Athena’s take on the girl. For her part, Athena couldn’t wait. She went to a separate room full of comfortable if worn chairs and flickering candles and awaited her daughter to come and prove her worth. Yes, she had thought once the girl had been pointed out to her, this is the one. She’s pretty enough, graceful which is a bonus, magically talented and a fast learner, yes she would do very nicely. Truth be told, she didn’t mind if the girl refused to transform just yet, that could be something that could be coaxed out of her as she trained the girl and tested her limits. “Not to mention trained that hideous accent out of her” She muttered darkly under her breath. A Malfoy had to be capable of great things, that was what her father-in-law had told her when she told him she was expecting her son; according to her mother, the head of the noble Rowle family, the only way to do test for greatness is to push hard and see what happens. She fixed her elegantly quaffed hair in place with a manicured hand and sat in trained poise awaiting the girl she wanted in mock-gentility.   Lyra, who knew nothing of the onlookers outside the playroom, sang along with old Mrs Kenning at the piano and thumbed over the engraved letters of the guitar in her hands. On the back of the neck, just were it split into the wired head her mother had engraved a heart with ‘Mum and Ly-Ly’ etched inside with care. Lyra’s memories had been…warped since the attack on their home but she remembered the day she got it clearly. They never had much but when her mum had made her the instrument she hadn’t cared- she felt so lucky. She had a similar feeling when Mr Wattle called her over saying she was going to meet a lady who could be her new mum even if it was tinged with sadness because she knew no one could ever replace her real mum. He told her to go wash her face and hands, bring her guitar and to answer when spoken to and try her best to make a good impression- if she did they’d take her home with them. Wanting to please the nice wizard who’d looked after her since that day, she did as she was told, slipped on her best clothes from her room and entered what the other kids called ‘the judging room’ with a small wrap of equally small knuckles on the door. Athena stood as the child entered. The girl was smaller up close, wiry built and strong from the looks of things, her dress and polished shoes doing nothing to hide her frame. She was covered head to toe in spite of the early summer heat, just as any young pureblood would be in her place yet she wore them with a disdain that belied her years. Maybe I won’t need to train you much after all, Athena smirked inwardly. Lyra propped her guitar against the chair and pulled her wayward fringe out of her face leaving it open to inspection. Mrs Malfoy approached her quietly, kneeling down to get a closer look. There was a small scar under her chin curling upwards to her bottom lip, but it didn’t mar her at all, it only added to her wildness, if any child can be described in such a way. The golden eyes that watched her, surveyed Mrs Malfoy with interest and Athena knew she was being studied every bit as much as she was studying the girl; her intelligence blazed from them. “Hello.” The girl said. “My name is Lyra, what’s yours?” She was the picture of politeness, Athena smiled gently. “I’m Athena Malfoy, although if all goes well today when you come home with us you may call me Mother, little one,” she replied sweetly. If the girl was taken aback by such an offer it didn’t show, her eyes just darted to her guitar for a moment before settling on the woman in front of her. Athena backed up and offered her a seat which she took smilingly. The smiles of neither the girl nor the woman reached their eyes. Mr Wattle watched in fascination as they questioned each other and while one of them was a child she was a long way from childish; a past like hers would do that to anyone. Instead, they talked about music, singing, what Malfoy Manor was like and Lyra’s magic all rather innocently until it was clear that something had clicked into place in Lyra’s mind. Her face darkened. “You know, don’t you ma’am?” “Know what sweetling?” Mrs Malfoy replied c*****g her head to one side. “About how I escaped the wolf-man who hurt my mum. About my other shape?” Athena clacked her long nails together thoughtfully, trying to find the right turn of phrase. She liked the girl’s way of putting it though; Wolf-man, well Greyback certainly is more beast than human, she mused. “It was explained to us yes, you were very brave to try to stand against him. Your Mum would be proud, as proud as your Mother already is.” This time it was Lyra’s turn to look puzzled. “But it wasn’t enough, why would she?” she stammered. “Because you tried and that’s what matters.” Athena replied emphatically, trying to call to mind all the Gryffindor bullshit she’d heard at school to feed to the reckless girl. “Not to mention what you did is very advanced magic. A sure sign of talent which is definitely something to celebrate.” The girl looked bashful then, her cheeks reddening as she looked down at the floor and wished it would swallow her up. Mr Wattle thought she might cry, he knew she had nightmares and blamed herself for what happened, but she surprised him. Mrs Malfoy’s words seem to do the trick. “Would… Would you look to see it? It changed the colour of my eyes the first time, they were black before and I’ve tried it a couple of times since! It hurt lots to start with but its better now.” She rambled slightly once again baffling her current guardian. Lyra looked up at her future mother full of something she couldn’t quite name, she knew she wanted to go with her though and she was happy too. Something the other kids had told her was a good sign when you came to the ‘judging room’- the judging went both ways, and they weren’t allowed to give you to people you didn’t like. And Lyra liked Mrs Malfoy a lot and wanted her to like her back.  Athena raised her perfectly slim eyebrows in pleasant surprise and nodded. Lyra shunted her chair back out the way and screwed her eyes closed in concentration. Mr Wattle was about to say it was alright if she couldn’t, not to push herself too hard when it happened. There was a pop of magical power and the girl’s form coalesced into a young lion cub complete with retractable claws, pointed teeth and sand coloured fur. Lyra smiled when she saw Mrs Malfoy marvel at her, showing just how sharp her teeth were. Athena scratched her behind the ear, letting a chuckle slip from behind her refined mask as the girl purred in her hand. The little lion cub yawned, and the girl shifted back. “I can’t hold that shape for long it makes me sleepy.” She explained. “That’s alright, you’ve already done the hard part pushing past the pain. I’m more than happy to teach you how to do more with your gift however.” “Really?” Lyra gasped wide eyed. “Are you like me?” “No, my dear. Few people can turn into animals by choice, and those that can gain the ability through a special ritual that takes over a month to complete.” “That sounds hard,” “It is and it hurts them too, which is why most people never try to become an Animagus. My husband, Abraxas, he is like you. He can change into a king cobra when he wants to.” Athena smiled as the girl rolled the syllables of the new term around, tasting them, sounding them out before she giddily asked another question. “What’s a king cobra?” As Mrs Malfoy went about showing the girl and talking though all the things the pair would teach if she behaved, Mr Wattle let out a sigh of relief and ushered Abraxas Malfoy in to join them. He felt justified now, that he was right to let them take the girl in spite of their stand-offish nature at the start of the meeting- Mrs Malfoy clearly thrived around children. It made sense now that she would want another one, now their own child was at Hogwarts and she would be alone in their mansion otherwise. The trio spent another hour talking before filling in the paperwork, Lyra saying more in that hour than she had during the rest of her time at the orphanage. While Abraxas never softened towards her, asking only perfunctory questions while laying out the laws of his household which Mr Wattle had no doubt he ruled with an iron fist. All of which Lyra listened intently to and nodded at the appropriate intervals stopping the older man when she needed clarification. She wasn’t as warm or as liberal with her smiles with him as she was with Mrs Malfoy, but he was certain that over time they’d grow to like each other. When the three of them departed, leaving a fat bag of galleons in Mr Wattle’s hand he felt better knowing that they weren’t as foul as he feared by any means and his conscience was free to spend it all.