Author's Note: Hi there, this is my first fic that I've written since my Naruto and One Direction fandom days. The idea came to me as I was rereading the Harry Potter Books and craving to create a character that was more mature and going through the Harry Potter Universe. I guess it's a bit self-indulgent and self-insert/Marry Sue-esque but I hope someone sees it as more than that. I've been posting on AO3 and tumblr under the same pen name but wanted to reach out and broaden my audience. I do have plans for a sequel with dotpoints all written out on how it will play it during the Harry Potter years.

Just a warning it is marked mature for sex scenes in later chapters so it is targeted for older audiences 18+. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Anyway, let us begin. I hope you enjoy.

As of 27/12/18 I have updated all the chapters in an effort to regain some muse for my writing. Please check out my tumblr sleeplesspensieve and lyraxlestrange if you can't get enough of my story. Feedback is always appreciated.

Chapter One – St. Mungo's

Lyra Lestrange sat quietly at her desk, head in her hands with stacks of paper towering above her. Her dark, unkempt hair was tied into a loose ponytail so it would not distract her from the work she needed to complete, yet her mind still found excuses. Her attention began to wane; she pressed her fingers against her eyelids and pushed them down her nose as if she was attempting to wipe the heaviness of exhaustion away. Her tiredness was a result of years of broken sleep which she blamed on studying too hard, but was truly due to the demons of her past. Her actions weighed heavy on her soul and she questioned whether she had made the correct decision.

The decision in question was her career, Lyra Lestrange was a healer. It was a peculiar job choice if one considered her family history; a healer in amongst a family of witches and wizards that were responsible for the pain and suffering of countless people. In a way, Lyra believed that becoming a healer would allow her to make amends with the world and the wizarding community on behalf of what her parents had done, along with some 'minor' things she had done too.

Her parents were none other than the infamous Death Eaters, Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. With her parentage came the expectation that she would learn the Dark Arts and follow in their footsteps to serve the Dark Lord. At a young age she had already witnessed a variety of dark acts that no child should ever witness and when she finally began her schooling at Durmstrang Institute she found herself excelling at the Dark Arts. But soon after she had started, the Dark Lord had fallen and she witnessed the arrest of her parents and subsequent downfall of the Death Eaters.

She remained at Durmstrang, studying diligently and making friends but when the man who betrayed several of her family members came to sit as Headmaster of Durmstrang, Lyra found herself taking justice into her own hands, resulting in her expulsion. After a short trial, Lyra was offered a fresh start at Hogwarts; her new Headmaster believing there was good in her. In an attempt to escape the association with her name she took on her mother's maiden name under the Headmaster's advice.

Unfortunately, it only took a year until Lyra Black's true identity was revealed and the burden of the Lestrange name came to haunt her once more. With reluctance, she took her old name back and with it came old habits. She attracted a group of children with Death Eater parents much like herself and it didn't take too long for a prank to go wrong, almost killing a student. Against the judgement of other teachers, Professor Dumbledore decided her punishment would be to assist in the care of the student she had injured. It was during this punishment that Lyra was confronted with the severity of her actions and decided to hone her talents into healing magic leading to this moment, right here.

Lyra had just completed two years of full time study and had been working as a Trainee Healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Maladies. With another two years of work and training, Lyra would become a fully qualified Healer. But despite being so close to that finishing line, Lyra just couldn't help but doubt whether she was on the correct path.

The job was nothing like she expected, mopping up vomit and excrement, feeding senile patients and drowning in paperwork that her superiors would rather not address. Although the paperwork was considerably better than the other grunt work required if she wanted paperwork she could've just settled for a desk job at the Ministry of Magic. She craved something more stimulating and interactive.

Lyra's first rotation as a Trainee healer was the Janus Thickey Ward; a ward for those afflicted by permanent spell damage. In amongst those residents were her parents' victims, Lyra's first victims, Alice and Frank Longbottom. When her eyes first lay sight of them she could feel the bile rise up in her stomach in recognition. Lyra was there the day that they had lost their minds. In fact, she was encouraged by her mother to use the unforgivable curse that put them in that state.

Guilt weighed heavy on her as she worked with them; assisting them with basic duties such as showering and feeding them and watching them receive visitors once a week. They had a young boy, Neville, who she learned was the same age as her cousin Draco, due to start schooling at Hogwarts the following year. She'd watch as he tried to communicate with his parents that were merely shells of themselves. She felt so sorry for him, that he had lost his parents and that he wound up being raised by a strict witch who didn't understand how delicate he was.

Lyra on the other hand had never been delicate. Perhaps now she could be considered that given how sensitive she was being as of late. Every night, those memories came to play in her dreams and every day, she felt her resolve weaken. Despite them being a reminder as to why she was here, she couldn't help but question herself more and more.

At times like these she would debate in her head whether it was preferable to see the Longbottom family in their current state or whether she was better off dealing with all this paperwork. Lyra rested her head on her desk and closed her eyes briefly. Maybe she could just turn off for a bit, everything would be so much more bearable. The darkness of sleep captured her and for a moment she felt peace.

But still, that peace was fleeting.

All too quickly, her dreams consumed her and it was filled with screaming. Screams of a woman and man she could not escape. A shrill laugh came from her mother echoed through her head. It slowly morphed into her own and she could her the sharp pierce of a teenage girl's scream. It felt as though it was never going to end, almost as though she was going to go mad listening to it… But she felt as though she deserved it, given that she was responsible for the screams. She was the one who had brought them to life, now they would haunt her.

A soft knock penetrated her dream and interrupted her sleep. The screams stopped. She shook herself awake and dragged her body to the door to invite her guest in. Lyra expected Miriam Strout to appear before her to ask her to assist in the distribution of dinner amongst the patients in the ward.

Instead, Lyra blinked her soft brown eyes in surprise.

"Professor Dumbledore?" she asked aloud.

The old man smiled at her, his eyes wrinkling further and hiding his twinkling blue eyes. There was no mistaking that man with the long silver hair and beard was none other than her old Professor, Albus Dumbledore. He gave a kind, warm-hearted smile and addressed her, "Lyra Lestrange, such a pleasure to see you again."

Lyra returned the smile before gesturing inside her office. "Come in," she insisted and with a flick of a wand a large armchair appeared in front of her desk. Another flick resulted in the cluttered mess of papers that were on her desk to disappear.

"I won't keep you very long," he said as he took a seat in the summoned armchair. "You seem to be busy."

She shook her head dismissively, "Take all the time you need."

"You're not trying to avoid doing work are you?" the Professor questioned, "That's not like you at all."

She bit her lip as if to keep her secrets and thoughts that had been consuming her at bay. She exhaled a small laugh and smiled, "Not at all, Professor. But it has been so long it'd be nice to catch up. Could I offer you any refreshments?"

"How about some tea?" he asked, waving his wand and summoning it himself. A pot of tea appeared out of thin air and began pouring itself into two tea cups that had appeared with it. "Peppermint ok?"

She nodded and took her seat opposite him.

"How's your job going?" he questioned whilst offering her a cup. "Are you enjoying it?"

"It's wonderful," she lied with a smile on her face. Albus himself had helped secure Lyra's internship position at St. Mungo's so she was careful to show her distaste but one look at her old Professor's face revealed he wasn't all too convinced by her lie. So, she treated him to a bit of sarcasm, "I just love paperwork."

He smiled before taking a sip of his tea. "You were never one for doing any homework, always preferred the practical which I admired but I would always hear the teachers complain about your lack of effort in your assignments."

She chuckled and rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "I never liked how they'd make you write pages of rubbish just to fill a quota. I like things straight to the point. The paperwork here is ok but it's just not what I imagined I'd be doing."

He nodded whilst taking a sip of his tea.

"So what brings you here, Professor?"

"Business mainly. Hogwarts is short two teachers this term."

"Two?" Lyra repeated in a surprised voice, taking a sip from her own cup.

"Yes," Albus sighed, "Professor Quirrell has taken a sabbatical so I have the mission of filling the post of Muggle Studies as well as Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Ah," Lyra said, her eyes narrowing as she quickly gathered the direction the conversation was heading. Of course the Headmaster of Hogwarts was a busy man, he didn't have time to make social visits to see old students. He had a plan but she played it coy. "I see and how is that going for you?"

"Muggle Studies is easy enough," the Professor said but he then began to furrow his brow, "But it seems that word has gotten around that the Defence Against the Dark Arts position may be cursed so it has become increasingly difficult to find someone suitable."

"Can't say I'm surprised," Lyra laughed.

He smiled at her, "You're not afraid of curses are you?"

"Me?" she laughed, "Of course not, but I'm not suitable."

"Well, I think you are," he said, "You have great experience with the Dark Arts and performed extraordinarily well on your NEWTS despite having rather incompetent teachers."

"Surely the pursuit of the Dark Arts along with passing exams doesn't make you a qualified teacher."

"I think you could do it," he hummed whilst emptying his tea cup.

"Do you honestly think I'm best suited for the role?" she raised eyebrows questioningly, "Wouldn't you rather Professor Snape? He's wanted it for years and would be a much better teacher for the role."

Professor Dumbledore frowned and shook his head, "I don't believe it would be wise."

Lyra scratched her head before rubbing in it in frustration. She yearned to question him further but she knew what he meant, "How would I differ from Snape in that sense?"

"I believe that you have absolutely no desire to pursue the Dark Arts," he said. "You have seen too much which you do not like and I sense that the guilt weighs heavily upon you."

She looked down in sadness and almost in shame.

"You've worked with them, haven't you?" he asked, "Alice and Frank Longbottom."

Their names tied her stomach up in knots and she found it difficult to answer a simple 'yes' to his question. It was as if her mouth went dry, preventing her from speaking yet her mind was swimming with a thousand unsaid words and her guilt threatened to drown her. The screams almost echoed through her head again and she felt the memory play in front her once more. Her eyes closed quickly as she realised it was in fact Dumbledore that was reading her mind and digging through her thoughts with ease.

"Sorry, I just couldn't help myself," he said.

She let go of those feelings before opening her mouth, though her jaw was tense with the feeling of betrayal. But Lyra was all too forgiving and she found it easier to voice her thoughts, "I did that."

"You didn't," he insisted. "Don't think for one second that you did. You were too young to be responsible."

She felt her jaw tighten once more. Those words were her excuse against the Wizengamot and they all believed it easily, none of them wanting to believe that a child of eleven was capable of such things. But Lyra knew otherwise. For a time, she truly was cruel and that guilt weighed heavy upon her, evident in her dreams.

A brief moment of silence passed where she rubbed her face and wringed her hands before she returned to the subject of teaching. "Honestly, sir," she continued "I'm much too young and I don't think I'd be a good teacher, plus I'm a Trainee Healer now and I'm about to continue my study and -"

"But is that what you want?" Albus interjected, stopping Lyra from listing a pile of excuses that she had obviously been preparing since she had sussed out the direction of their conversation.

She sighed deeply, a frown appeared on her face. For once, she was honest with herself and her state of mind. "I don't know anymore."

"I think it'd be good for you," he said, waving his wand and making the now empty cups disappear. "A year away from your current job might help you put some things into perspective. The school term doesn't start for another month so think about it."

Professor Dumbledore got up and Lyra followed suit.

"It was lovely seeing you, Professor," she said, offering him a handshake. "I'll let you know."

He took her hand, his own frail but firm. "I expect a letter within the week," he said as he turned to leave. "See you soon."