The Witch in The Wheelchair

written by cinna

DISCONTINUED - WILL BE REMAKING THE BOOK

Last Updated

05/31/21

Chapters

4

Reads

658

Chapter Three

Chapter 3
script-fonts


Author’s Note: Apologies for the last chapter, there are some bugs in the system that don’t allow me to edit the book , so if there was any inconvenience, I’m very sorry. Another thing, the owl is called Mr. Morton. I might’ve switched up the names, but I can’t go back and change it for now. And secondly, no, I don’t have a schedule that I publish by, I try to do once a week. However, it depends on how I’m feeling or if something came up. In the future, it is possible that I will need some co-authors or editors, but for now I will be fine. If that happens, I will put it in the chapter. I will not be posting spoilers about any of the chapters anywhere, so do not try to go looking for them. Also, I know you might be disappointed to learn that she is the same age as The Silver Trio, but don’t worry! It’s for good reason! Cheers, Cinnamon.

Lyra woke up with a startle and a quaint tawny owl perched on her nose. Mr. Morton hooted and turned his head, a letter attached to his claws, the message Lyra had written and tied on his ankle thrown away and gone. The letter had a red seal on it and green calligraphy with a package attached to it. She trembled, fumbling with the seal and opening the letter.

Dear Ms. Lotstein,
To whom it may concern, I have not chosen you in the slightest. Please continue with your plans to go to Hogwarts and all will be explained once you are sorted and join your classmates. Please remember to stay with McGonagall, as she is to direct you to the station. And remember, you were chosen for a reason.

Professor Albus Dumbledore


Lyra groaned in frustration, transferring to her wheelchair and tossing the letter into the fire, a smell of burning wax filling the warm and cozy room. She managed to pick up her robes and pack them into a bag, putting Mr. Morton in his cage, stacking her books, and slowly inching into her clothes. She folded the ridiculous witch hat into her case, shoving it to the bottom. Placing the items on her lap, she proceeded to take everything and load it onto a cart nearby.

“Here, let me help you with that,” a man’s voice said, waving his wand around so that the items stacked perfectly onto the cart. He had firey red hair and a long face that reminded Lyra of a typical schoolboy, eager to learn. He certainly had that look, with the perfectly ironed robes and the tie. He had a small badge pinned to his chest that said PREFECT. “Percy, Percy Weasly. And you are…” He didn’t seem to be phased by the wheelchair, or he was ignoring it.

“Lyra Lotstein.” She smiled taking the cart, barely looking at the boy’s face. “Thank you very much for the help. Say, are you going to Hogwarts as well?” She looked up to see Percy sputtering in confusion. He blinked twice, swallowed, and gave a forced smile that slowly turned natural as they continued walking.

“I am, and if you can see, I’m a prefect.” He flashed his badge, barely looking at her. “Now, you did say that you were a Lotstein, now did you?” He graciously floated the cart down the stairs, and Lyra’s wheelchair. She nodded jerkily, wearing a confused expression. Her lips pursed into a thin line, afraid of what her name meant. “Oy, nevermind.” He turned away, meeting up with a small clan of redheads, who were looking confused and were obviously his family.

“Ah, Lyra. I’ve see you’ve already met one of our prefects. If you were to be in Gryffindor, then you would surely meet him, as he is the Gryffindor prefect. Now, I see that you are packed up. Come along then.” She took the cart and started pushing it for Lyra, Lyra struggling to keep up with the bumps on the road. “We’ll never get there in time.” She pulled out the rugged boot again, tapping it.

“I never asked, but what are those?” Lyra pointed at the glowing boot that Professor McGonagall had just dropped on the floor.

“Portkeys. Used to travel the world - at designated places of course - very discreetly, so muggles don’t see.” She tapped it again, letting the light seep in further until it turned a blinding white. “Now, just focus on getting there, not the light. We’ve had to put extra measures on Hogwarts portkeys. Now, off you pop!”

She wheeled in, feeling herself swirl, her eyes wide open. She put her hands over her eyes, light blinding her, and she almost flew onto the floor, after being spit out. She gasped at the ceiling above her, high to the sky, and people with trolleys looked at her then turned away. “Ah, you’re the one professor told me about!” A boy with blonde hair about Lyra’s height smiled and stretched out his hand. “I’m Murphy McNully.” Lyra looked at him.

He was smiling, and looking eye to eye with Lyra, yet he sounded older and most certainly looked like it. Then she peered down at his feet, starting to wheel over to the hand when a gasp escaped her mouth. The boy was also in a wheelchair. She looked at him and shook his hand, her jaw-dropping. “You-”

“Have a wheelchair too? Well, I’ve got to say, I didn’t think that I would ever meet another, but here we are!” He started to wheel over toward a large pillar in the middle of the station and he pointed at it. “That’s the entrance to the Platform Nine and Three Quarters.”

“Luna! Hurry up now! We’ll be late!” Lyra turned to see a father and a girl with almost white hair holding a cart with a magazine tucked in one arm and two-toned glasses started to push herself into the barrier, before her father called her back and rushed over toward Lyra. “Why, another Lotstein! I’d thought I’d never see another. I’m Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of Quibbler Magazine. I would be honored to get an interview and-”

“Well, we’d better get going too, or else we are also going to be late.” Murphy started to wheel into the barrier, beckoning for Lyra to too. Lyra was stopped by the blonde girl, who raised her glasses and smiled, her mind in a far off place. “I’m Luna Lovegood.” She pushed her cart through and Lyra followed after.

Again, it was obvious that the wizarding world was not ready for a wheelchair, because Luna and her father had to help push Lyra onto the train car, and Murphy McNully, despite being a full grown man, had to too. The train wooted and whistled, slowly tracking off. “Say, I didn’t see Harry Potter,” Luna said in a sort of singsong voice.

Lyra readjusted herself onto the seat. “Umm, who’s Harry Potter?”

Everyone in the car gasped, as if offended by what she had just said. They looked at the girl inquisitively. They started to murmur. Who hadn’t heard of Harry Potter. “Harry Potter’s a famous wizard. Survived an attack you know,” Someone said excitedly. “He survived You-Know-Who!”

“No, I suppose I don’t,” Lyra said to the person with excited eyes.

“Oh, we can’t say his name, so we simply call him You-Know-Who.”

“Oh. Who is You-Know-Who?”

“A dark wizard. Apparently brilliant. But went dark after a while along with the Lotstein boy. But Harry Potter stopped him! Killed him off ya know! Then he came back last year, but Harry Potter did it again!”

“Sounds like a hero, this Harry Potter.” She pursed her lips before she said it. “Did you say Lotstein?”

“Yeah! My brother went to school with him! Smart Slytherin, pretty famous as Head Boy and Prefect, but then he went bad, and one night, he disappeared from his dorm. Then he came back and killed a couple people and- well, you’ll probably read all about it!”

“Yes, I suppose I will,” Lyra said, her body shaking. If her brother was a wizard… a dark one at that… what would be her future?



Survey for Lyra’s love life: here
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