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booksmarts and broomsticks
act ii , take a breath
chapter thirty-one, and in flew a phoenix

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➖DRIA LOCKABY ➖
june 1993

        FROM THE MOMENT Dumbledore had declared her brother's name, it was as though the world moved silently around her. There was nothing except a light buzzing in her ears as her gaze shot between the distraught look on her mother's face as she pleaded with the Professor, the hunch of her father's brows as he kept his gaze firmly planted on the floor trying to fathom what had just been said and the striking lifelessness of Maisie's blue eyes held as they looked off into the ether.

         At some point, the family had drifted into silence — Professor Dumbledore had left them be in his office as he went to make more inquiries into Michael's disappearance, his phoenix disappearing with him.

        The candles that had lit the office in the early evening had burnt out leaving only the bright moon to allow a dusky light into the room, as it hung on a canvas that Dria swore was almost black.

        She had retreated to a large monks bench that sat at the other end of the office, and curled up on its — less than comfortable — surface in the hope of organising her thoughts in the painful silence that hung around her.

        However, as Dria slowly blinked up at the moon she came to the conclusion that, although the monks bench was uncomfortable, she clearly had managed to sleep on it.

        At the other end of the bench, she saw her father, his brow still furrowed as he slept, his head resting upon the hard wood back of the bench as her sister curled into his side, electing to use his torso as a pillow rather than the bench wood.

        Maisie hadn't said a single word since the Professor had told her that her twin was missing. Dria was vaguely happy to see that in sleep she looked for more at peace than when she had been conscious, although she had no doubt that, when her little sister awoke, her despair would claim her once more.

        Dria knew how Maisie approached life; she was calm and let things slide, she never overthought or took things too seriously. But over the course of the year, her older sister saw that mentality as her twin — half of her — pushed her away. She still maintained a smile even though the longer it went on, the more that half of her decayed and now that he was gone? It was as though she'd been completely ripped in two.

        Dria was sure that if were her, she probably wouldn't have the strength to say a thing either.

        The blonde's blue eyes continued drifting around the office until they landed on a figure bathed in moonlight that shimmered against her dark glossy hair, and Dria suddenly found her voice;

       "Mum?"

        Julia didn't seem all that startled at the sound of her daughter's voice and turned slightly from where she stood looking up at the large wood.

        "You should be sleeping." She replied, her voice a little hoarse and lowered so as not to wake the other two people in their midst.

        Dria pressed her lips together as she swung her legs from where they had been pulled up to her chest, and swung them off the monks bench before slowly rising up from it to her full height.

        "I can't really." The blonde said, defeatedly, her gaze still lingering curiously on her mother.

        "You never could."

         A light chuckle laced her words as she kept her tone low. Dria wasn't all too sure how to react, her eyebrows furrowing in slight bafflement as she tried to shake off the drowsy hold that sleep had on her.

        "The twins never had any trouble ... nothing's changed there." Julia went on, sparing a quick glance over at Maisie who still slept soundly upon the bench. "But you? It was like you were intent on staying awake no matter what.

        "I'd be up with you night after night. Your dad was always worn out from his shifts so I'd let him sleep." Her mother explained slowly, as she turned around to face Dria, her gaze flitting to Allan momentarily as a reminiscent smile played on her lips.

       Dria's eyes scanned over her mother briefly, taking in her appearance. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself in a sense of security, and she could just about make out a slight puffiness around her mother's eyes. 

        "You only slept when I sang — which is worrying considering I can't hold a tune for the love of Merlin." She went on, another gentle laugh lacing her tone, "But for some odd reason, it worked."

         Her mother's gaze had dropped to the floor before she willed herself to look her daughter in the eye; the same shade of blue they shared boring into each other. All of Julia's features softened instantaneously upon truly seeing her daughter.

        "Still, I wouldn't leave you. Your dad would come in and find me asleep by your cot." She said, her words a little breathless before she sniffed and inhaled sharply. "I always swore nothing would be more important, that I'd never let you down — I don't know when I forgot that."

         Dria felt tears prickle at the corners of her own eyes as she pressed her lips together, her arms wrapping themselves around her, mirroring her mother's stance.

        "I've been a real fool, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry a million times over if that means anything to you. I don't expect it to ... it shouldn't." She continued, her breathing shaky as her eyes remained on those of her daughter. "You did the right thing when you left at Christmas."

        "Mum—"

        "You did." Her mother cut her off, refusing to here any apology that she could lingering in that word she spoke. "I've not been the mother you deserve, any of you. And you, all three of you, are far more than I deserve."

         Julia took another sharp inhale as she tried to gather her words, trying to shake off the emotion that had wrapt her since Professor Dumbledore had said her son's name. She was furious with herself for having circumstances come to this point before she allowed herself to acknowledge her shame.

        "You're the bloody best people in the world, damnit." She staggered out, a few stray tears escaping down her cheeks as she spoke. "And I'm damned for letting you not know that, for not telling you that every bloody day."

         "I'm sure our egos would be insufferable if you did." Dria spoke up in a quieter voice with a light chuckle, as she furiously wiped her eyes of the tears that threatened to fall from them.

       A laugh left her mother's lips at her quip, as she squeezed her eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. When she opened them again, her gaze fell to floor where she took in another breath and met her daughter's gaze once more.

        "I'm so sorry." Her mother cemented, her jaw hard as she firmly nodded in attempt to assure her. "I know those words will never be enough but I swear to Merlin's sweat-drenched socks that I'm going to spend every day making everything up to you, and showing you that I bloody well mean them."

        Dria knew there was some anger still inside her that was directed at her mother, and Julia knew that too. But, right then, however much anger she had once felt towards the woman dissipated. It still wasn't perfect, but it was a start.

        So, the blonde girl allowed herself to walk forward and wrap her arms around her mother, and allow them in the moment of complete pain and anguish to allow themselves to start healing.

***

DRIA SOMEHOW FELT worse when morning came around, its cruel burning beams shining through the window and awaking her from the slumber she willed herself to slip back into.

The night seemed like a dream — an escape from the events playing out before her in the daylight. She longed to shut her eyes once more and allow herself to be wrapt in sleep's clutches once more, and not have to face reality.

Dumbledore returned sometime before she'd awoken — she could hear his soft voice echoing through the office — although her concept of time was lost. Perhaps it was still early morning, she cast a glance to the other end of the bench where Maisie was curled up with eyes closed — however Dria could easily they were not shut in slumber, but in the way she longed to replicate; to escape and deny.

There was no sign of her father causing the blonde to scan around the rest of the room only to find him stood by Dumbledore's desk with her mother at his side as the three of them engaged in low conversation. Dria kept her eyes on her mother for a moment, watching as she blinked slowly — she gathered that her mother had not had a wink of sleep that night.

The blonde brought her gaze back to her sister with a light sigh, and mirroring her, letting her eyes slide shut just for a moment—

A harsh knocking sound came from behind the door to the office causing Dria to jolt out of whatever state she was trying to slip into. Maisie had also been alerted by the noise and craned her neck to look at the door.

"Come in." Dumbledore responded calmly from where he had risen to his feet beside Dria's mother and father.

The door gave a mellow creak before swinging fully open. Dria didn't know exactly who she expected to be on the other side of the door but she would have guessed a good hundred people before she guessed a phoenix.

"Shitting hell!"

The firebird shot through the door in a blur of red and orange, circling the room a few times before letting out a squawk and navigating itself to its perch by Dumbledore.

Dria stared at it for a moment with incredulity, wondering how on earth a phoenix could have learned to knock before her gaze returned to the door and she realised that the bird hadn't come alone.

        Standing in the doorway stood four figures, their faces covered in an oily sheen of dirt and grime that also stained the robes that they wore. At the front stood Harry Potter with an expression of determination on his face and — more confusingly — a large ruby encrusted sword in his grasp. Ron was at his side, his brow furrowed in annoyance as he kept throwing glances at the taller man who stood beside him; a figure that upon further inspection Dria realised was Professor Lockhart.

        "Oh, well this is lovely." The Professor grinned dumbly as he wandered into the office, seemingly unaware of the other people around him. "Is this where you live?"

        "Shut it." Ron snapped back at the Professor, who didn't seem the slightest bit phased by the young boy's clear detest of him.

Dria watched as Harry's expression falter with a soft chuckle and an apologetic look up at Dumbledore.

"It's a really long story."

If Dumbledore had said anything in response, Dria hadn't heard it. Her eyes had landed on the fourth figure emerging through the door, and even though he looked just as — if not more — rough as his companions, Dria felt a wave of relief so powerful wash over her that she nearly fell off the monks bench.

"Michael!"

        Maisie's voice was hoarse from having said nothing in so long but her cry sounded loud and clear as she quickly hurried from where she sat and embraced her twin brother in the tightest of hugs.

        There had been some slight inertia when the group had first entered the room, but that was shattered with Maisie's cry which caused Dria's parents to also spring into action and leave their positions beside Dumbledore's desk to reach their son.

        Dria watched from afar for a moment, her eyes taking in the scene as she attempted to regulate the emotions inside of her — she couldn't tell whether she would end up laughing or crying, but tried to focus of the warm feeling in her heart.

        Finally, her emotions made up their mind and decided that no tears would be shed. Instead a light chuckle left her lips as she spectated her parents fuss over the boy, he was trapped in his mother's embrace while his father pressed a kiss to his head and her twin sister refused to let his arm go. Normally, she would have expected him to grimace and try to shrug them off, but not now. His eyes were squeezed shut and he happily returned the affection he was being subjected to, embracing his parents and holding back light sobs.

        Her blue eyes only momentarily left the scene before her and scanned the room until the landed on Harry and Ron, who were both looking upon the family with a small smiles on their faces. They must have felt her gaze soon after as they turned to look at her, their smiles never faltering.

       "Thank you." Her voice was no more than a whisper, but their nonchalant nods told her that they'd received her message loud and clear.

Letting out a gentle breath, she brought her gaze back to her family and a small smile crawled its way onto her lips as her eyes met those of her brother who was still crushed in the middle of their parents' affection.

The longer she looked, the more she noticed that there was something different about his eyes. They were still tired — Dria had no doubt that was down to whatever ordeal he had just endured — but there was a brightness in them, a sort of life that she hadn't seen since the start of the year. A bright blue shone back at her in place of a stormy grey.

"You alright, nightmare?" She mustered up the composure to say as he slowly shuffled his way out of the hug and stood opposite his older sister.

"Yeah, I'm alright." He replied quietly, giving her a nod, an apologetic glint in his eye as he looked on her.

       Dria didn't waste another second before hurrying towards the boy and wrapping her arms around him, a smile creeping onto her face as she felt him return the hug with just as much love.

        "Well, if I'm not mistaken, I believe our worries can cease." Dumbledore's voice suddenly sounded, causing the two siblings to pull out of their hug, although Dria's arm remained around her little brother. "Can they not, Mr Potter?"

       The blonde turned her gaze from the Professor to the young boy who stood not too far from her, who replied with a firm nod.

        "Yes, Professor."

As soon had Harry confirmed — however loosely he may have done — that it was he and Ron that had succeeded in saving Michael, it took hardly any time at all before Julia and Allan snapped out of their state of pure relief and turned their attention to the two boys, thanking them profusely.

       The wave of bashfulness that washed over the two boys was amusing to witness as they flushed red and tried to brush off the desperate thanks of the Lockabys' parents.

"As glad as I am that you've been reunited," The voice of Dumbledore cut through the clamouring gratitude that filled the room. "I'm sure your son has undergone quite an ordeal this night, and would quite benefit from some rest in the Hospital Wing?"

"Of course, of course." Allan responded, suddenly coming back to his senses as he spared Harry a final nod of thanks and nudged Julia, before they both moved over to their three children.

"I'll be along shortly when I have full understanding of tonight's events." Dumbledore went on, descending the steps and approaching the family. "But, for now, I suggest that you leave us sure in the knowledge that there is no longer any danger and the school will not close."

Dria was sure that her stores of relief had been fully spent upon seeing her brother safe and well. However as the words spoken by Dumbledore sunk in, she was soon mistaken and felt as though she could walk on air.

"Thank you, Professor." Dria replied, with a breathless smile on her lips at which he gave her a small nod, his eyes bearing a hopeful glint before turning in the direction of her father.

"And, Mr Lockaby?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Might I request that you accompany Mr Lockhart to the Hospital Wing as well?" The Professor asked, nodding in the direction of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who was bumping into the furniture in a nearby corner. "I suspect he may also be in need of medical attention."

"A lot." Ron piped up in addition, letting out a grim sigh as he looked over at the man, earning a light laugh to escape the lips of the Lockaby children.

"Of course." Allan Lockaby responded, a light smile on his own lips as he spared a glance at the confused Professor in the corner.

And with no more than a few polite farewells, the Lockaby family slowly departed the office with the dazed Professor Lockhart in tow, leaving behind the headmaster and two young Gryffindors as they shut the door behind them.

        A comfortable silence accompanied the family and the Professor as they progressed towards the hospital wing; each person basking in the relief that had yet to subside from Michael's reappearance.

       Dria had relinquished her hold of her brother and now strode at the front of the group while Maisie walked by Michael's side. The feeling that rushed through her veins was indescribable, she felt as though she could fly. She knew if Jackie had seen her in such a state she would have every right to slap her out of it. No one can ever be that sincerely happy, she would say. Dria used to agree with her and found those excessive displays of positivity absolutely sickening — but now, Dria couldn't give less of a damn. Everything, for once, was completely fine. She couldn't quite believe herself as she thought it; for the first time, saying everything was fine wasn't a coping mechanism but the truth.

"Miss Lockaby?"

Dria snapped out of her state of euphoria upon realising it had driven straight to the Hospital Wing, and looked up to focus on Madam Pomfrey's concerned face which faltered in slight confusion at the gleeful expression on the young girl's face.

"I heard the news about your brother, is he—?" The matron began asking just as the rest of the party entered the infirmary behind Dria.

"Just a little worse for wear, I believe." Dria chuckled, sparing a glance back at her brother who walked forward to beside his older sister. "Out of the worst of it."

"By a mile." Michael concurred with a tired smile as Dria threw an arm around his shoulder, looking back at the matron who now wore a relieved smile.

"Nonetheless, have a seat." She told the boy pointedly, placing a hand upon his shoulder and ushering him toward a empty bed. "You look exhausted."

Michael sat down upon the bed with a small smile upon his lips while the matron performed a series of checks on him. Dria watched eagerly from the bedside where she stood with her mother and younger sister, while somewhere in the background her father tried to persuade with the absent minded Gilderoy Lockhart to sit upon another bed, before approaching the rest of his family.

"I can't see any physical damage except the obvious fatigue." Madam Pomfrey smiled, straightening up and patting Michael's on the shoulder. "But that's nothing that a bit of rest and a bit of hot chocolate can't fix? I trust you agree, Dr Lockaby?"

"Quite." Dria's father chuckled, sparing a glance at the matron before looking back at his son.

"Pardon me, but I was actually addressing your daughter." Madam Pomfrey informed the man with a small smirk, earning a bashful smile from the blonde before her, as the matron looked between both her parents. "She's going to make a fine Healer one day."

Allan Lockaby merely grinned at the statement and replied with a short nod, before looking at Julia whose gaze was already intently placed upon her eldest daughter, a proud smile resident on her lips, as she agreed;

"Indeed, she will."

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖆 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘!
shoutout to jules
for finally being a
decent human being

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