Part 4: After Graduation
September 1st, 1980...
"Come dance with your boyfriend," Sirius demanded.
Lyria laughed. "You mean all your duties as Best Man are taken care of?"
"Hey, they're married. And I already gave Prongs the necessary medication."
Nearby, the newly Mr. and Mrs. Potter were greeting old friends, looking like they'd been married for ages rather than hours. Remus was talking to Lyndell—it was a well known fact that the werewolf hated to dance—while she tapped her foot and glanced toward the dance floor.
Sirius whirled Lyria gracefully. "Oh, there's something I do need to do actually..." he trailed off.
"Why so nervous? You look like you're about to pee yourself," she teased him.
He gave her a smile. "Well, who knows?" He kept firm hold of her hand. "Come on, you're coming too." He slipped his other hand in his pocket and led her toward the front of the room.
"Sirius, what *are* you doing?"
"Proposing."
"What?!?"
Lily watched the scene unfolding with a grin. She nudged James and gestured. "He's finally going to do it..."
"Hope she says yes. It'd be just like her to say no just to embarrass him out of his wits." James replied.
Lily laughed. "I don't think he has to worry about it this time."
Lyria watched, jaw practically at her knees, as Sirius took the ring out of his pocket and knelt in front of her. She was nearly in tears. Her rather unconventional boyfriend, down on one knee to propose?? And nervous about it??
"Fashion tip, Lyri, the mouth looks better closed," He joked weakly.
Well... he'd never claimed to be a romantic.
"Lyria, will you love me and fight with me and have little Padfoots with me?" He asked her. Despite the slightly teasing tone, his chocolate brown eyes gave away his nervousness.
"Padfeet," she corrected automatically. "Get up." She kissed him.
"Should I take that as a yes?" He asked her.
"Yes! Yes, I will," she told him, blue-gray eyes still watering.
He whirled her around triumphantly.
September 1st, 1981...
"You're the obvious choice, Sirius," James Potter pleaded with his friend.
"I don't think it's wise. I'm too, well, obvious." Sirius sighed. "You know I'd be honored, but you know that anyone who's looking for you is going to assume I'm your Secret Keeper."
"Do you have any better ideas?" Lily asked, holding baby Harry close.
"Pafoo!" Harry cried, reaching baby arms out toward his godfather, who picked him up.
Sirius considered this for a long while before making a suggestion. "Peter."
"Peter??" Lily asked.
"You'd have *never* thought to use Peter. No one would ever guess it was him. They can come after me all they like, but I really *wouldn't* know anything," Sirius pointed out.
James thought about it as well. "You know, Lily, he's got a point."
She nodded. "Peter it is, then."
Baby Harry began to cry.
September 16th...
"I don't believe you!" Lyria snapped. "He's your best friend, and you're passing off the most important thing he's ever asked of you to someone else!"
The night had started wonderfully. Sirius had come home, armed with flowers for Lyria's birthday. Over dinner, he'd casually brought up that he was trying to convince James to use someone else as Secret Keeper. Big mistake. The beautifully decorated flat had become a war zone.
"I'm trying to protect them!" Sirius bellowed. "No one's going to think they'd use someone else!" He tried to calm down, but with little success. "Lyria, I don't know if I trust myself with..."
"So you don't trust yourself? Then how the hell am I supposed to trust you?!?"
"How is this about me now?" He demanded. "And if you agreed to marry me when you don't know you can trust me, you're the stupidest person I've ever met!"
"THEN WHY DID YOU ASK ME TO MARRY YOU? Huh?!? Any reason you moved in here, or were you just after me for sex? Or information? Someone's been passing it on to the Death Eaters!!"
"AFTER YOU FOR... ARE YOU ACCUSING ME?!?" That was it. He'd take almost anything from Lyria, but her accusations of betrayal he would not stand for.
"EVERYONE ELSE SEEMS TO BE!" She barked. "And you aren't denying it."
"I'M NOT DENYING IT?!? I shouldn't have to, we're engaged!! Ever since your damned Auror training, everyone's a traitor, aren't they??" He snapped.
Lyria's eyes narrowed. "Maybe you should take your little motorbike and fly it the hell out of my life."
"Sounds like the best idea you've had all night," He replied, slamming the door behind him.
Lyria sat down on the bed in a state of shock, glancing at the flowers that rested on the pillow. So much for a nice night... and so much for telling him the news.
What did it matter, anyway? She could raise a baby just fine all by herself.
October 31st, Halloween...
Lyria paced the flat anxiously. Since the evening of the fight, Sirius had returned once, a week later, to collect his things. It had taken her most of the month since she discovered for certain she was pregnant to collect the nerve to owl him. They'd agreed to meet at about nine that evening at the flat.
"He'd bloody well better show up," Lyria told the orange cat pacing the floor. Sirius had given her the cat—Crookshanks—just after they'd moved into the house.
It meowed and looked up at her curiously.
Stopping at Peter's would only take a moment, and he had plenty of time to get to Lyria's, Sirius reasoned. He didn't want to get there too early anyway. Better make it look like he didn't care, just in case her news was she was marrying Severus Snape or something.
Lost in thought, he arrived at his friend's door and knocked, flashing the peephole a rather rude gesture. No response. Not even footsteps toward the door.
Sirius sighed at the waste of the gesture. "Hey! Wormtail! Answer your door!" Sirius called to his friend. No response. Pulling out his wand, he decided to let himself in.
The flat was empty.
There was no sign of a struggle, but Sirius couldn't think of anywhere that Peter would be, particularly as they'd arranged these meeting times in advance. It took him about thirty seconds to decide something was wrong. He raced off into the sky on his motorcycle, headed for the Potter home.
By the time he got there, the Potter home no longer existed.
Sirius was absolutely sure he was going to be sick. Kneeling where the front door used to be, he berated himself. This was his fault. He'd suggested they use Peter for Secret Keeper...
"Sirius?" Hagrid's voice sounded entirely too loud behind him.
Sirius looked up shakily. "James and Lily..." He was surprised he could say the names... he was the reason they were dead... "Harry..."
"Harry lived." Hagrid said quietly.
"How... how..."
"No one knows."
"Let me take Harry." Sirius managed to say. "I'm his Godfather..."
"Can't. Dumbledore's orders." Hagrid put a hand on Sirius' shoulder. "It'll be alright."
It wouldn't. It never would be. "Take the bike, get Harry somewhere safe," Sirius croaked.
Hagrid nodded and left with the baby.
Sirius left as well, on a mission of a different kind—to find Peter Pettigrew.
It was an hour before Sirius finally tracked Pettigrew to the dark little alley. "Wormtail!"
Peter turned around with an almost pleased look on his face. "James and Lily! Sirius, how could you?" Peter cried, as something fell from his hand. He placed both hands behind his back.
It took Sirius an instant too long to realize what was about to happen. He reached for his wand in an effort to stop the rat...
The flash was blinding, and no one noticed the rat scurrying away from the scene. Even if they had, no one there would make the connection besides Sirius himself.
Muggles were screaming, and Sirius knew the Ministry Aurors were on their way.
He stood, as if frozen. James and Lily were dead. Sirius had been right about one thing—everyone would assume he had been their Secret Keeper. Not even Lyria knew for sure that he hadn't been. Pettigrew was gone, after cutting off a finger and leaving it behind to make himself look like the victim. The Muggles who had witnessed it were hysterical, and they would give all the information they could against him.
He glanced up. The Aurors had arrived—Lyria leading the group.
He was going to wind up in Azkaban, arrested by the love of his life, for trying to help his friend and being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
In effect, it was the most elaborate and well-plotted prank Sirius had ever been the victim of.
He laughed.
November 1st...
Lyria picked up the paper, sick to her stomach. He couldn't have. How could he have? The accusations from the fight came back to her. So did her decision that night.
No, Sirius couldn't be a traitor. And no, she most certainly could not raise a baby by herself.
She'd gotten the owl last night as she sat on the bed, bemoaning that she couldn't drink herself sick because of the baby. Sirius had never shown up, and she'd never been so pissed in her life. Immediately upon getting the owl, she'd taken off. It was something to do, after all, and a good way to vent the anger before she just exploded.
She'd arrived to find a disaster.
Bodies everywhere, screaming Muggles. A piece of finger—Peter's, she'd later discovered. And in the center of it, Sirius, laughing like a lunatic, clutching his wand.
Lyria had sorted through the bodies, taking the more gruesome job no one else wanted. She simply couldn't force herself to drag Sirius off the scene. She didn't want to look at him.
Would he have done it if they hadn't broken up?? They'd have been married by now. How couldn't she have suspected it at all? He must have been planning it earlier.
Had he done it at all?
Part of the blame was hers, she had realized. She had pushed him into being Secret Keeper, after all.
If he was the Secret Keeper. If not, he was innocent of killing the Potters. But he'd still wiped out thirteen Muggles and poor Peter.
And Cassi. Her sister.
Cassi had been killed in the massacre. Lyria knew it was true—she had found the body herself, owled her parents and brothers, and signed the papers—but she couldn't bring herself to believe it.
What a waste.
She flopped onto the bed, fell asleep, and hoped she'd wake up to find it was all a nightmare.
She didn't.
September 1st, 1980...
"Come dance with your boyfriend," Sirius demanded.
Lyria laughed. "You mean all your duties as Best Man are taken care of?"
"Hey, they're married. And I already gave Prongs the necessary medication."
Nearby, the newly Mr. and Mrs. Potter were greeting old friends, looking like they'd been married for ages rather than hours. Remus was talking to Lyndell—it was a well known fact that the werewolf hated to dance—while she tapped her foot and glanced toward the dance floor.
Sirius whirled Lyria gracefully. "Oh, there's something I do need to do actually..." he trailed off.
"Why so nervous? You look like you're about to pee yourself," she teased him.
He gave her a smile. "Well, who knows?" He kept firm hold of her hand. "Come on, you're coming too." He slipped his other hand in his pocket and led her toward the front of the room.
"Sirius, what *are* you doing?"
"Proposing."
"What?!?"
Lily watched the scene unfolding with a grin. She nudged James and gestured. "He's finally going to do it..."
"Hope she says yes. It'd be just like her to say no just to embarrass him out of his wits." James replied.
Lily laughed. "I don't think he has to worry about it this time."
Lyria watched, jaw practically at her knees, as Sirius took the ring out of his pocket and knelt in front of her. She was nearly in tears. Her rather unconventional boyfriend, down on one knee to propose?? And nervous about it??
"Fashion tip, Lyri, the mouth looks better closed," He joked weakly.
Well... he'd never claimed to be a romantic.
"Lyria, will you love me and fight with me and have little Padfoots with me?" He asked her. Despite the slightly teasing tone, his chocolate brown eyes gave away his nervousness.
"Padfeet," she corrected automatically. "Get up." She kissed him.
"Should I take that as a yes?" He asked her.
"Yes! Yes, I will," she told him, blue-gray eyes still watering.
He whirled her around triumphantly.
September 1st, 1981...
"You're the obvious choice, Sirius," James Potter pleaded with his friend.
"I don't think it's wise. I'm too, well, obvious." Sirius sighed. "You know I'd be honored, but you know that anyone who's looking for you is going to assume I'm your Secret Keeper."
"Do you have any better ideas?" Lily asked, holding baby Harry close.
"Pafoo!" Harry cried, reaching baby arms out toward his godfather, who picked him up.
Sirius considered this for a long while before making a suggestion. "Peter."
"Peter??" Lily asked.
"You'd have *never* thought to use Peter. No one would ever guess it was him. They can come after me all they like, but I really *wouldn't* know anything," Sirius pointed out.
James thought about it as well. "You know, Lily, he's got a point."
She nodded. "Peter it is, then."
Baby Harry began to cry.
September 16th...
"I don't believe you!" Lyria snapped. "He's your best friend, and you're passing off the most important thing he's ever asked of you to someone else!"
The night had started wonderfully. Sirius had come home, armed with flowers for Lyria's birthday. Over dinner, he'd casually brought up that he was trying to convince James to use someone else as Secret Keeper. Big mistake. The beautifully decorated flat had become a war zone.
"I'm trying to protect them!" Sirius bellowed. "No one's going to think they'd use someone else!" He tried to calm down, but with little success. "Lyria, I don't know if I trust myself with..."
"So you don't trust yourself? Then how the hell am I supposed to trust you?!?"
"How is this about me now?" He demanded. "And if you agreed to marry me when you don't know you can trust me, you're the stupidest person I've ever met!"
"THEN WHY DID YOU ASK ME TO MARRY YOU? Huh?!? Any reason you moved in here, or were you just after me for sex? Or information? Someone's been passing it on to the Death Eaters!!"
"AFTER YOU FOR... ARE YOU ACCUSING ME?!?" That was it. He'd take almost anything from Lyria, but her accusations of betrayal he would not stand for.
"EVERYONE ELSE SEEMS TO BE!" She barked. "And you aren't denying it."
"I'M NOT DENYING IT?!? I shouldn't have to, we're engaged!! Ever since your damned Auror training, everyone's a traitor, aren't they??" He snapped.
Lyria's eyes narrowed. "Maybe you should take your little motorbike and fly it the hell out of my life."
"Sounds like the best idea you've had all night," He replied, slamming the door behind him.
Lyria sat down on the bed in a state of shock, glancing at the flowers that rested on the pillow. So much for a nice night... and so much for telling him the news.
What did it matter, anyway? She could raise a baby just fine all by herself.
October 31st, Halloween...
Lyria paced the flat anxiously. Since the evening of the fight, Sirius had returned once, a week later, to collect his things. It had taken her most of the month since she discovered for certain she was pregnant to collect the nerve to owl him. They'd agreed to meet at about nine that evening at the flat.
"He'd bloody well better show up," Lyria told the orange cat pacing the floor. Sirius had given her the cat—Crookshanks—just after they'd moved into the house.
It meowed and looked up at her curiously.
Stopping at Peter's would only take a moment, and he had plenty of time to get to Lyria's, Sirius reasoned. He didn't want to get there too early anyway. Better make it look like he didn't care, just in case her news was she was marrying Severus Snape or something.
Lost in thought, he arrived at his friend's door and knocked, flashing the peephole a rather rude gesture. No response. Not even footsteps toward the door.
Sirius sighed at the waste of the gesture. "Hey! Wormtail! Answer your door!" Sirius called to his friend. No response. Pulling out his wand, he decided to let himself in.
The flat was empty.
There was no sign of a struggle, but Sirius couldn't think of anywhere that Peter would be, particularly as they'd arranged these meeting times in advance. It took him about thirty seconds to decide something was wrong. He raced off into the sky on his motorcycle, headed for the Potter home.
By the time he got there, the Potter home no longer existed.
Sirius was absolutely sure he was going to be sick. Kneeling where the front door used to be, he berated himself. This was his fault. He'd suggested they use Peter for Secret Keeper...
"Sirius?" Hagrid's voice sounded entirely too loud behind him.
Sirius looked up shakily. "James and Lily..." He was surprised he could say the names... he was the reason they were dead... "Harry..."
"Harry lived." Hagrid said quietly.
"How... how..."
"No one knows."
"Let me take Harry." Sirius managed to say. "I'm his Godfather..."
"Can't. Dumbledore's orders." Hagrid put a hand on Sirius' shoulder. "It'll be alright."
It wouldn't. It never would be. "Take the bike, get Harry somewhere safe," Sirius croaked.
Hagrid nodded and left with the baby.
Sirius left as well, on a mission of a different kind—to find Peter Pettigrew.
It was an hour before Sirius finally tracked Pettigrew to the dark little alley. "Wormtail!"
Peter turned around with an almost pleased look on his face. "James and Lily! Sirius, how could you?" Peter cried, as something fell from his hand. He placed both hands behind his back.
It took Sirius an instant too long to realize what was about to happen. He reached for his wand in an effort to stop the rat...
The flash was blinding, and no one noticed the rat scurrying away from the scene. Even if they had, no one there would make the connection besides Sirius himself.
Muggles were screaming, and Sirius knew the Ministry Aurors were on their way.
He stood, as if frozen. James and Lily were dead. Sirius had been right about one thing—everyone would assume he had been their Secret Keeper. Not even Lyria knew for sure that he hadn't been. Pettigrew was gone, after cutting off a finger and leaving it behind to make himself look like the victim. The Muggles who had witnessed it were hysterical, and they would give all the information they could against him.
He glanced up. The Aurors had arrived—Lyria leading the group.
He was going to wind up in Azkaban, arrested by the love of his life, for trying to help his friend and being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
In effect, it was the most elaborate and well-plotted prank Sirius had ever been the victim of.
He laughed.
November 1st...
Lyria picked up the paper, sick to her stomach. He couldn't have. How could he have? The accusations from the fight came back to her. So did her decision that night.
No, Sirius couldn't be a traitor. And no, she most certainly could not raise a baby by herself.
She'd gotten the owl last night as she sat on the bed, bemoaning that she couldn't drink herself sick because of the baby. Sirius had never shown up, and she'd never been so pissed in her life. Immediately upon getting the owl, she'd taken off. It was something to do, after all, and a good way to vent the anger before she just exploded.
She'd arrived to find a disaster.
Bodies everywhere, screaming Muggles. A piece of finger—Peter's, she'd later discovered. And in the center of it, Sirius, laughing like a lunatic, clutching his wand.
Lyria had sorted through the bodies, taking the more gruesome job no one else wanted. She simply couldn't force herself to drag Sirius off the scene. She didn't want to look at him.
Would he have done it if they hadn't broken up?? They'd have been married by now. How couldn't she have suspected it at all? He must have been planning it earlier.
Had he done it at all?
Part of the blame was hers, she had realized. She had pushed him into being Secret Keeper, after all.
If he was the Secret Keeper. If not, he was innocent of killing the Potters. But he'd still wiped out thirteen Muggles and poor Peter.
And Cassi. Her sister.
Cassi had been killed in the massacre. Lyria knew it was true—she had found the body herself, owled her parents and brothers, and signed the papers—but she couldn't bring herself to believe it.
What a waste.
She flopped onto the bed, fell asleep, and hoped she'd wake up to find it was all a nightmare.
She didn't.
