"Petunia Evans," Lynn spat out, nostrils flaring along with her impatience for Dumbledore's calm demeanor. "You left my godson on the doorstep of Petunia bloody Evans?!"
This is a slight AU and a Sirius Black x Original Character
Split between the M...
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Christmas is a drag sometimes, Please say next year that you will be mine. All you've gotta do is say that I love you, And Christmas this next year will be fine.
-I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME
Hogwarts, sometime before Christmas, 1993
The castle felt empty, more students returning home for Christmas that year then ever, due to the imminent threat of Sirius Black. Not only that, but the draining effect of the dementors had left very few students willing to stay at Hogwarts.
Lynn felt as if there was a dementor hanging over her 24/7. The heaps of Arithmancy homeworks she had collected before the Christmas break were left untouched, only having managed to go through a few 7th year essays before going back to the safety of her bed.
Harry, still recovering from the news that Sirius Black was his godfather, and not only that, had played a roll in the demise of his parents, had not spoken to Lynn since. Not that Lynn had reached out to Harry either. She told herself it was because he needed time to process his thoughts, instead of admitting that she was being cowardly.
It was a few days before Christmas when she decided to leave her quarters, writing a quick note for Harry and leaving it on her desk in case he decided to come looking for her.
...
The hospital was festively decorated, a Christmas tree beautifully decorated in every available corner and tinsel lining the doorways. Several wizards and witches with a variety of issues, such as extra limbs or nasty looking animal bites, stood around the reception, where a blonde witch directed patients towards with an extremely bored expression on her face.
She dreaded this day every year. It made her sick to her stomach, and the pungent mix of smells that hung in the air of St. Mungo's due to the variety of potions, never helped her nausea.
Lynn headed straight for the fourth floor without consulting the witch at the helpdesk, passing several paintings of famous healers and potioneers on her way. "You there," one portrait called out to her, a portly man with a beard longer than Dumbledore's. "You need your eyes looked at immediately! There's some kind of black secretion building up on your eyelids!"
"It's eyeliner," she tried to explain.
"It'll kill you that stuff!"
"Of all things, make-up isn't going to be the thing to kill me." But Death Eaters, Voldemort's ghost, her ex-fiancé and raising a teenage boy was certainly on the list.
As she trudged her way up the stairs to the fourth floor, a man with golden hair and dressed in a hospital gown stood on the landing on her way, humming quietly to himself and twiddling his thumbs.
"Hello!" he greeted brightly once he noticed her, a vacant smile stretched across his face. "Would you like an autograph?"
"Lockhart?" Once she overcame the initial shock, she fought to keep a scowl off of her face. The part of her that felt sympathy for this man losing his memory, was heavily overpowered by the anger she felt towards him for attempting to obliviate her godson. "Should you be wandering around by yourself?"
