12 Grimmauld Place
Britain
Lyra's Bedroom
3rd August, 1971

"...LYRA! LITTLE MISTRESS LYRA!"

Hermione rolled over, unwilling to leave the soft bed that she had found herself in. Then her brain began to kick in.

She remembered the Final Battle, Death giving her a chance of rebirth. She jolted upright, and looked around quickly.

The room she was in was decorated in dark green and silver; there was a desk, a chair, some bookshelves, a carpet, but not much else. She turned around. On the bed's headboard were the words Toujours Pur.

Always Pure.

The Black family motto.

Memories began to fly into her head, overlapping the others. She was Lyra Cassiopeia Black, twin sister of Sirius Black, heiress of House Black, daughter of Orion and Walburga Black. She was going to go to Diagon Alley with her family today, to buy her things for her first year in Hogwarts.

"I'm up, Kreacher." she said, Lyra taking over.

Kreacher looked definitely less old, and happier. His large, bulb-like eyes had more life in them, and his skin barely had any wrinkles.

Lyra hopped down onto the carpet, and slipped her feet into her slippers, before padding outside.

They were definitely in 12 Grimmauld Place; it was the same decoration, same style, but there was less dust, and everything looked newer, cleaner. It was clear that the house had done nothing but collect dust and dirt between Walburga Black's death and Sirius coming to live here.

Lyra headed towards the dining room, but stopped in front of the large oak doors (honestly, were all pureblood family homes so...elegant?). She took a deep breath, and grasped the doorknob, pulling the door open.

She strode in with a grace that Hermione could not hope to duplicate, and bowed her head.

"I apologize for my lateness, Mother, Father, but I was...sleeping in."

"That is perfectly fine," a deep voice said. "We all have those days."

Lyra looked up and scanned the table briefly. Her father, Orion Black, a tall and broad shouldered man with the traditional Black eyes and hair, was sitting at the head of the table, radiating confidence and authority. Next to him was her mother, Walburga Black, who looked very similar to her husband, but her cheekbones were higher. She was smirking slightly, though not in the fashion that the woman's portrait had done, but instead in a teasing way.

On Orion's other side was her twin, Sirius, who was bouncing impatiently in his seat. His grey eyes were piercing, yet playful and welcoming, and Lyra was sure that he had messed it up on purpose. Next to him was an empty seat, and on the other side of the seat, her baby brother Regulus sat. He was an exact replica of his father, though he had inherited Walburga's high cheekbones.

Lyra strode over to her seat and sat down in the most ladylike way she could manage. Kreacher snapped his fingers, and food appeared on their plates.

"I was beginning to think that the Queen of Fairies snatched you away in your sleep!" Sirius told her, eating his bacon messily.

Lyra flinched back. "Sirius, don't talk when you're chewing."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Sirius waved a hand dismissively.

She glanced at Regulus. "Help?" she asked hopelessly.

Regulus snorted. "You know that nothing I say will be taken seriously by Sirius."

"That's a terrible pun," muttered Lyra under her breath. She waved her hand at Sirius, and the food on his clothes disappeared, leaving no marks behind.

"Wow," said Sirius, looking impressed. "Where d'ya learn that?"

"Proper language, Sirius. We have raised you better." Walburga said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Yes, Mother," said Sirius, looking bored.

Walburga looked satisfied and returned to her food.

"I read books and experimented," sniffed Lyra.

"I did too, but I didn't manage wandless and silent spellwork before I got to Hogwarts!"

Regulus threw his brother a look. "Unless I was hallucinating for the better part of my life, I have never seen you in the Black Library once, and every time during the day that I did see you, you were planning a prank."

Sirius went very red.

"Is this true, Sirius? Have you not been practicing your spellwork, but instead planning childish pranks?" Orion Black spoke.

"Um..."

"I expect you to spend every free moment practicing your spellwork, and if we catch so much as a whiff of a prank...do you understand me?"

Sirius nodded, his head down.

Lyra picked a piece of egg off her plate and chewed it, before swallowing. "Can't say you didn't deserve that." she mumbled. Luckily, neither Orion nor Walburga heard her.

Sirius seemed down for the rest of breakfast, and it was only when Kreacher had snapped his fingers and cleaned their plates, and Orion and Walburga had left, that he spoke again. "I wanted to talk to you," he said, looking each of his siblings in the eye.

Lyra nodded, knowing that, if things went like they did before, this would probably one of the last times that Regulus and Sirius acted like brothers.

He led them to his bedroom, which bore signs of Sirius unsuccessfully trying to change the color theme. They plopped on the bed, and Lyra flicked her hand to close the door and ward the room.

Sirius swallowed. "I'm going to Hogwarts soon."

"You are," Lyra agreed.

Sirius looked at his knees. "Blacks go to Slytherin."

"So they do," Regulus agreed.

"I don't think I'm going there."

There was a short silence, before Lyra burst out laughing, realizing what Sirius had been so afraid of. He looked confused and a little scared.

Lyra hugged him tightly, and Regulus did too. "We're always going to be siblings, even if you get into Gryffindor."

And she intended to make good on that promise, or her name wasn't Hermione Granger...er, Lyra Black.

12 Grimmauld Place
Britain
Sirius's Bedroom
3rd August, 1971

It was weird, Hermione thought, that she was sitting here as Lyra Black, Sirius's twin. It felt surreal, but at the same time it felt...normal.

Then she remembered what she was here for. Oh yes. Killing Voldemort.

Her main task in this timeline, as Lyra, would be to kill the snakefaced idiot. Saving people would come second; after the war, she hadn't been that sentimental Gryffindor who tried to save everyone first. That had nearly cost her her life, Harry's life, Ron's life, everyone's lives. She wouldn't make that mistake again.

Getting the chance to kill him would be the hardest, though. She needed to weave her influence into his followers's ranks, which should be easy, considering the power her family name held. But for that, she needed to be a Slytherin, a snake, a witch Voldemort would attempt to recruit.

After all, she was Hermione Granger. She could do anything if she had her wand, her skills, and of course, an organized stack of notes.

And she was Lyra Black too, that quick-thinking witch with intelligence and cunning and ambitiousness. She could do anything, if she had her wand, her skills, and her mind.