Voldemort's curse is blocked.
Standing in front of Harry Potter is the flower of Slytherin, a cold beauty with platinum-blond hair, and the perfect example of a pure-blood aristocrat: Lyra Malfoy. She raises her wand at Voldemort. Psychic flames coil around it, and the shadow of the Warp appears behind her.
My name is Lyra Malfoy. I'm eleven, I live at Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, I'm unmarried, and I attend Hogwarts. I get eight hours of sleep every night, drink a glass of warm milk before bed, meditate for twenty minutes, fall asleep the moment I lie down, and sleep until morning. I never let fatigue or stress carry over to the next day. The professors all say I'm perfectly normal.
I don't seek victory, and I don't want to cause trouble. After crawling out of that cesspit, the only thing I wanted was a peaceful life, quiet days, and no more parties hosted by the Four Gods of Chaos inside my head.
Studying the Dark Arts, uncovering the secrets of Horcruxes, building wizard societies, even ruling the entire Slytherin House through fear and authority: these are all just necessary measures, risk management, ways to make sure every problem is quiet before I go to bed. Really, I'm still a good person who longs for a peaceful life.
As for what you said about Harry Potter, the Chosen One? He's part of my peaceful life too.
But if anyone tries to ruin my peace and quiet...
I'll show them what it really means to be "calm and collected."
