*The following is my version of the epilogue for the Malfoid version of Harry Potter, written from the perspective of Lyra, the eldest daughter of Harry and Draceana* Lyra couldn’t see over the luggage that had been piled onto her trolley. It was heavy enough that the girl had to lean into it with all her weight to get it to move at a decent pace. Massive trunks shook as the trolley rumbled along the stone floor, laden with so many things from Diagon Alley that she couldn’t even remember what each one contained. Atop them was a cage that rattled from the shaking, the small white owl inside of it peering down at her with his head tilted at a curious angle. She smiled up at him, if only to distract herself from the quickening beat of her heart. “Draceana, did you need to buy so much for her?” Lyra’s father walked beside her, looked over the girl towards her mother, who was on the other side. She huffed. “Of course, Potter, do you think I’m going to let our daughter go to school unprepared?” Two girls held onto her hands, both only coming up to her waist. One had brown hair that had grown long over a pair of green eyes, and the other had white-blonde locks that were cut into a bob that hung around her silver irises. The swell to her mother’s belly told Lyra that another sibling was on the way… or maybe more than one, given her parents’ luck with that. Harry frowned. “No, but I don’t think she needed to have enough to set up shop within the school.” “One can never be sure of these things.” Draceana looked at a clock and clicked her teeth. “I don’t know why we needed to be so early anyways.” “...I distinctly recall someone stressing punctuality in our earlier years.” “That was when there weren’t more shops to look at.” She looked between the twins in her hands. “What about you, Lily and Luna? Don’t you think your sister needs more clothes?” She didn’t. Lily, her sister with longer hair, looked up with a bright smile. “Yes!” Luna, the one with a shorter cut, simply nodded. Their mother flashed their father a triumphant grin. He snorted. “Perhaps next year then, when it's Jamie’s turn.” The boy at Harry’s side furrowed his brows over his silver eyes. “Aw, do we have to? That sounds like a pain.” Draceana reached over and ruffled his wild tangle of brown hair. “We’ll be sure to take an extra long look in Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes just for you.” Jamie’s expression brightened immediately. “Really?” “Yes, really, though don’t go asking Fred for anything behind the counter.” She gave a side eye to Harry. “Nor you, Potter.” “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.” He looked over to Lyra and subtly raised his eyebrows. The girl stifled a giggle, fully aware that there was a large pouch of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder in one of her trunks. For emergencies, her father had told her, though he kept that out of earshot from her mother. “What about me?” A small head with blonde hair poked out from in front of the luggage, green eyes excited. Harry chuckled. “That is still two years from now, Albus.” “And me?” From the other side of the luggage, a mane of brown hair, also surrounding green eyes, emerged with a curious look. “Likewise, Severus.” Harry narrowed his gaze between the two boys. “Though I may need to keep a better eye on you two. You’ve got a mischievous streak about you.” Draceana gave a bemused smile. “I wonder who they got that from.” “You, obviously.” She scoffed. “I have never been anything but a proper lady, isn’t that right, Lyra?” The girl straightened her back and nodded firmly. “Right.” Harry laughed. “It seems I’m starting to get outnumbered.” The crowd around them was thin in the earlier hours of the morning, but a few curious glances were still thrown their way when they all stopped between platforms nine and ten of the train station. The family waited a few minutes for the crowd to thin, but all the while Lyra could feel that quickening heartbeat start to speed up again. Her hands clenched around the trolley’s handles, which drew her fathers attention. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want me to push?” She shook her head. “Then, when you’re ready, give it a running start. You’ve got this.” She calmed down immediately and took in a long breath before leaning against the trolley again. It took a few kicks to get going, but soon she was running towards the barrier. Right before she got to it, her eyes closed out of reflex. A soft pressure washed over her and she slowly opened them to another platform, this one smaller and with only a singular, scarlet train that billowed a constant cloud of thick, white steam. The rest of Lyra’s family emerged right behind her, excitedly chatting amongst themselves. Her father leaned over and kissed her on the top of her head. “Wonderful job.” She beamed up at him. “Right then, shall we get everything loaded?” “I want to hold Owlbert.” Her mother giggled. Harry turned to her, eyebrow raised. “It’s a name that only Lyra could come up with, is all.” She cleared her throat and gave a firm nod. “Refined, full of character.” Harry laughed under his breath and picked up the owl from the top of the trolley before handing it to Lyra. “There we are, hold on tight to him, you hear?” The girl took the cage. “I will.” She poked a finger through the bars, and Owlbert leaned over to nip at it softly. She giggled and held it tight. Harry took the opportunity to push the trolley in her stead and led everyone towards the growing crowd. Draceana followed after him. “Stick close everyone!” The children followed their mother’s orders and waded through the crowd together. Lyra could hear a few familiar voices that cut through the bustle, but there was no opportunity to find where they were coming from. The size of the family alone let them cut a clear path to the loading area for luggage, and it was only after her trunks had been put onto the train did she finally have enough bearings to look around. Immediately did she spot the Weasleys, who were near one of the doors. Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron stood in front of Rose, who was half a head taller than Lyra was and had a head of auburn hair, just like her father. She shared this with her brothers Hugo and George, who were all smiles and holding the hands of their little sister Tonks. The small girl barely seemed cognizant of what was going on around her, but shared the same bright happiness that all of her family did when they spotted Lyra. She gave them an excited wave, which they all returned. Harry flashed his friends a mutual grin, but left them to their business for the time being. Draceana was of the same mind and gave the Weasleys a smile. She and Hermione did meet each other’s eyes for a moment, the Weasley matron glancing down at Draceana’s protruding belly before looking back up at her smirking face. Hermione laughed and shook her head, returning her attention to her daughter. Lyra’s mother stooped down. “Nervous?” She shook her head, but clutched Owlbert closer to her. Harry got on one knee. “It’s ok to be nervous. I was in my first year.” Draceana nodded softly. “Indeed he was. When he saw me, he was so nervous he couldn’t even shake my hand.” “...that’s not what happened at all.” Draceana waved her hand flippantly. “Nevermind that.” She brought Lyra close and kissed her forehead. “You will do just fine, my daughter. You have your father’s bravery and my wit. None will be able to stand in your way.” Lyra looked down, unconvinced. “What if I get into the wrong House?” Harry held her shoulder. “There is no wrong House. The finest people I have ever met came from all of them.” Her mother hummed in approval, but leaned in. “Though, if you do get into Slytherin, you may find an extra galleon in your allowance.” Harry pressed his lips thin. “Bribery, is it?” “Encouragement.” They all shared a laugh together, and Lyra felt her spirits brighten. Draceana kissed her again and smoothed her hair. “Show them what you can do, we believe in you.” There was a small, subtle tremble to her voice. Lyra stood straighter. “I will.” Her mother stood back, wiping her eyes quickly before flashing another smile. Harry kissed her cheek, then leaned in close to whisper. “If you happen to find yourself in Gryffindor, perhaps you may get a brand new Nimbus in the mail.” “I heard that, Potter.” “Encouragement, my love, encouragement.” He turned back to Lyra. “Give Neville and Hagrid our love, and write often, you know how your mother gets.” Draceana clicked her teeth, but didn’t object. Lyra nodded. When her father stepped back, she moved for the door, taking one last look at her family. Her siblings were waving enthusiastically. “Bye, Lyra!” “See you at Christmas!” “I’ll send you some candy!” “Bye, sister!” “We love you!” She waved back at them. “I love you too!” When she stepped onto the train, time became a blur. The company of Rose and Owlbert had filled their compartment with so much excited conversation that they had barely noticed the tops of Hogwarts’ spires appearing on the horizon. The both of them got into their school robes, still chattering away, but that faded as soon as the train lurched into a halt. Lyra fidgeted with her buttons. “We’ll… still be friends, even if we’re in different Houses, right? Rosie tilted her head. “Why wouldn’t we?” Lyra made an uncertain sound. Her friend held out her pinky finger. “Let’s swear on it then. We’ll always be friends, no matter what.” The girl hooked her finger around hers and they shook. Rosie grinned. “Someone has to help you study, right?” Lyra giggled. “Maybe.” The both of them filed out of the train where Hagrid was gathering all of the first years. “Here now!” His voice bellowed across the platform. “We don’t want to keep everyone waiting!” His eyes fell on Rosie and Lyra, giving them a wink when they waved. The walk to the Great Hall took only a short amount of time, and all the while Lyra drank in Hogwarts as much as she could. The timeless stone of its construction, the living paintings that lined so many walls, and corners upon corners that lead to Merlin knows where. Excitement filled the girl and made her thoughts race at the possibilities, which continued to storm even as the doors of the Hall opened. Headmistress McGonagall sat at the center of the grand table at the head of the chamber, smiling at the first years that made their way towards the professors. Lyra could see Professor Longbottom looking around at the first years with clear excitement, almost bouncing in his seat as he started to recognize her and other familiar faces. A stool sat in front of the table, right where everyone could clearly see it. The Sorting Hat was placed on top of it, the sags that formed its face deeper than what Lyra had heard of, perhaps due to age. Its presence started to make her nervous again, but the encouragement of her parents and friend kept the feeling at bay. One by one were the new students called up to sit upon the stool and had the Hat placed upon their heads. Declarations of their Houses were followed by applause by the appropriate tables, some more rambunctious than others, until finally, her name rang through the Hall. “Lyra Potter!” She walked forward, her back stiff and face blank to smother the rising apprehension that was starting to rise within her. When she was fully seated on the stool, the Hat sat snugly on her head and was silent for a few moments. “Another Potter, eh? Your father was a complicated one to sort out, and you’re just the same…” It made a grumbling sound to itself. For some reason, hearing those words relaxed her. “Oh? Happy to follow after your father, are you? Then again, there is a familiar cunning that I sense in you… oh, a Malfoy? A grand name, that one, full of ambition. What to do, what to do…” Lyra kept silent. “You know, your father requested not to be in Slytherin when he was up here. Have you the same request?” Lyra thought of her family, of a father and mother from Houses that were at each other’s throats for so long, yet had only ever looked upon each other with love all her life. From that, she found her answer. “No.” The Sorting Hat grunted in approval. “Well that settles it then… Slytherin!” Cheers erupted across the House’s table, but she could also see Rose there, clapping along with them with a grin on her face. Lyra hopped off the stool, her thoughts drifting back to her parents, imagining the smug grin that her mother would have upon hearing the news and her father’s excitement regardless. All sense of nervousness left Lyra at that image, and she walked into her new life, smile bright across her face.