Lyra had just had the worst birthday in existence. First, she had been late for work and received the entirety of Skeeter's ire, spending the rest of her workday plus overtime that she wasn't even paid for making up for it. Next, she spent an awkward birthday lunch with her father and brother- a lunch that ended in both males fleeing in anger. Due to her entire day being off-balance, she had been late to the brewing session. The Professor had been in an even worse mood than usual and her reckless attempts at brewing didn't help matters at all either. Mortification still filled her up when she thought of how she had actually cried in front of him. Something changed in him at the sight of her tears; his fury turned into a state of uncertainty. He had, more kindly, kicked her out. Then, to top it all off, of anyone, it had been Sirius Black who had remembered what that day was to her, taking the opportunity to go out of his way to wish her with that stupid smirk on his face.

If he expected her to fall all over him in gratitude, he'd have been disappointed. Rather, she'd briefly thanked him and abruptly left for her apartment, where she spent a good two minutes trying to insert her key into the keyhole through blurred eyes. The rest of the day consisted of her crying under the sheets quietly so that Kat wouldn't hear her.

The rest of the week felt off-kilter, following a similar mood to that of her birthday. A small depression invaded her, slipping through the walls she had erected to keep them out. She wasn't a very depressing person, she just preferred to be happy. She knew it wasn't something that one could just turn on and off, but she found that it was easier to not notice it if you pretended it wasn't there.

And, it works out all fine until your whole life is ruined.

You're being dramatic, she calmly told herself, following a stable breathing pattern she utilized when she got this way. Her whole life wasn't ruined, she just had one bad day that happened to fall on her birthday. It didn't mean anything, not really. She would be okay and her days would get better. Eventually. Still, her throat wobbled in an effort to not burst into more tears, this was supposed to be a new chapter of her life. How could one move forward when they felt like they were stuck in the past?

"Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry." She chanted that over and over again until the words were drilled into her head, stuck so strong that she wouldn't be able to forget them. She ran across the road, technically jay-walking, to The Corner Ground, her all-time favourite coffee place. It was incomparable to coffee anywhere else, and the dearest thing she missed after she left for America. It was only now that she got a chance to go back there.

It was more crowded these days, she noticed as she swerved past a small group of people congregated right in front of the door. Correction, much more crowded. Back when she first found this place, it was lucky to find 5 customers at any given time. She was glad they were doing better now, it was just a little bittersweet that so much had changed beyond recognition in the past, what was it? She'd been on the first flight out two weeks after she graduated, which meant...she'd been in America for 10 years.

Contemplating that it somehow passed her notice that it had been an entire decade that she'd lived in America, she ordered her favourite around this time of year; a cliche pumpkin spice chai latte, topped in a creamy foam and sprinkled with cinnamon- perfect for this time of the year. Call her basic, but there was something about the chilly weather that completed this particular drink with a perfect combination.

The waiter, a kind man, the romantic kind to sweep you up in his arms if this were a romance book you were reading, put down the cup with a little 'clink' noise, telling her to enjoy, and returned to his place behind the cash register, looking down and scribbling something down on a piece of paper.

She shook her head to herself. What was with her today? When she wasn't still recovering from the lows of her mini-depression, she was in such a god-awful romantic mood, which really wasn't helpful when she swore herself off men. Her vow of celibacy wasn't an issue either- she wasn't really into hooking up with strangers she could hardly blame when she had to get checked for an STD. She didn't have a big sex drive anyways. And, while she could freely admit that men were so ridiculously hot, they came with more problems than they were worth.

Pushing those thoughts away, she brought the cup to her lips with excitement, devouring the delicate spice fragrance of Fall. The burn of her tongue from the latte was only a determinant to finish it faster. She would like to sip at it, savouring the taste, but it was just too good that she couldn't help but scarf it down. Her stomach was warmed up but not yet satisfied so she added a blueberry bagel with cream cheese as well as a deliciously buttered up scone with a rich and tangy raspberry filling on the side to her order.

She took her time with her food, leaving the cafe some 20 minutes later with tastebuds that were still revelling in the simply divine taste of her food. Contrastingly, her stomach was not satisfied with her at all. She kind of felt as if she might burst from how full she was. Was that even possible?

Self-conscious of her appearance, she pulled up her leggings so that they kept her stomach hidden and tugged her sweater further down. There, she didn't look so pregnant now. Once she found a place that was out of the public eye, she apparated back to her apartment.

Kat was once again gone, was the first thing that Lyra noticed. She kicked her boots off without a care of placing them back into a friendly arrangement. Although she was no longer cross with her roommate for ditching her the previous month (Kat earned her forgiveness through a whole package of chocolate- everyone knows that chocolate is the way to a woman's heart), she could feel the familiar feeling washing over her once more. Kat was always out with her friends or, even worse, her boyfriend, a big, burly man that answer to the name 'Mick.' She had the unfortunate to meet him once, that was enough to decide she definitely didn't like him and he had no business being with Kat, who was much too good for him. Love blinds, Lyra supposed.

She liked Kat, she really did, it was just that she was unreliable, a trait that Lyra absolutely hated. She's loyal, Lyra reminded herself. Lyra wasn't the sort to focus on the bad qualities of people, although she might have been better off had she been. Unreliable -maybe undependable would be a better adjective- yet absolutely unwavering in her loyalties. Once one was in with her, they were in- end of story. Just as long as they didn't mess with her. Lyra'd hate to see someone on Kat's wrong side.

She set her purse and keys on the counter manually. The result of having a roommate that was completely oblivious as to magic was getting used to not using said magic even when she wasn't around.

She stopped in her tracks when her eyes caught sight of a parchment laid down comfortably on the couch. Flipping it over, her eyes scanned the formal words. What was a letter from Albus Dumbledore doing in her living room?

Miss Lupin,

It seems that I may have been neglectful where it concerns you. I do hope you will forgive me for my lack of insight. I would appreciate it if you would take the time to 'catch up,' as they so say and discuss a certain task at hand over a cup of tea with me at your earliest convenience.

With my gratitude,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,

Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

With a quick and careful 'incendio,' the missive was no more but a small pile of greying ashes. She observed the room for anything that would signify the unwarranted entrance of the Headmaster but found none. You're getting too paranoid for your own good, Lupin. He was a wizard, after all. He probably just had an owl send it. An owl that was suspiciously talented at placing letters down, sure, but an owl nonetheless. Maybe there was some other sort of transportation of letters that she just wasn't aware of.

Might as well get it over with. There was something about the Headmaster, something that rubbed her the wrong way. She was probably imagining it, but she couldn't shake the feeling off. She was being ridiculous, after all. This was Albus Dumbledore, for heaven's sake, the wizard of their time. Admired by most, respected by all. She had nothing to worry about. Lyra exchanged her muggle clothes for a casual wizarding robe that was glamoured to be a dress, just until she got to her destination, which was outside the gates of Hogwarts.

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do now, it wasn't as if there were a sort of bell. She wasn't left with her worries for long, a large man -giant? Half giant?- approached the gates and opened it for her. "Who're yeh, an' what's yer business 'ere?" Quick and short to the point, she saw. He also would probably be quick to turn her into a pretzel if she didn't get on with it. "Uh, Lyra Lupin, sir. I- the Headmaster, Dumbledore, er, uh, Headmaster Dumbledore, I mean, summoned, well, not exactly summoned, more like-"

To her surprise, his face lit up in a smile, making him look a thousand times friendlier (and less likely to squeeze her until she was nothing but juice), "Ah! Dumbledore di' tell me abou' a visitor. Come righ' in! I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Ground. " He moved aside to let her pass. "D' yeh need 'elp getting there? It is a big castle, yeh know."

She declined with a nervous giggle, all too aware that he could crush her with one hand if he wanted to, "No thank you, I've been here before." At his confused stare, she added, "I used to be a student here." She quickly said her goodbyes and trekked the dirt path to the castle she hadn't caught sight of in years. Now, thinking about it, she did recall hearing something about a groundskeeper, but she never had seen him before, until now. All she had to say was that he was big, probably 10 times her size, and that might have been an underestimation.

She felt a stranger, walking these halls that she'd frequented countless times in her youth. It was quite nostalgic, actually. Just as she was about to knock on the door, the gargoyle defending the entrance slid aside loudly, out walking a certain Potions Master. He seemed to double-take when he saw her. Quickly, his face recovered from his deviation of character and he scowled down on her, "Miss Lupin...must I be haunted by you at my place of work as well?"

If he was expecting her to be offended, he'd be mistaken. On the contrary, she thought that was hilarious, her laugh serving as proof. "I guess so, Professor. Truly sorry about that. The Headmaster wanted to talk to me, although why he couldn't have just said it in those terms is beyond me, what's the point in using such formal language?"

He blinked at her for an excruciatingly long moment that allowed her the time to feel appropriate regret in her short rant. "Indeed."

Indeed. She loved that word, she just didn't know it until the word came out of his mouth. What a lovely word it was, short and sweet, yet carried the point through effortlessly. She smiled her goodbye before she could embarrass herself any further.

"Ah, Miss Lupin. Do have a seat. Lemondrop?" She warily eyed the yellow wrapped candy piled in the glass bowl. "Umm, no thanks, lemon's not really my flavour."

"If it suits you. I've yet to ask how have you settled in, Miss Lupin?"

"Please, call me Lyra." She had forgotten how people back here insisted on calling each other by their last names. That was one thing America did better. "Umm, I don't know. I mean, it certainly had been an adjustment, but I think I'm suited enough. Working for Rita Skeeter is...not to sound melodramatic, but I'd much rather work for he-who-must-not-be-named."

"Please, refer to him by his true name, Lord Voldemort. Fear of a name only instils more fear itself." She didn't get it, wasn't Voldemort (she could say his name freely in the safety of her own mind, it wasn't like he was a mind-reader, although, if he was, she wouldn't really be surprised) someone to be feared based on how many people died at his hands and how little mercy he showed? Of course the Headmaster wouldn't fear him, he was his magical equal, maybe even superior, and he had nothing to worry about in those terms. The rest of the population wasn't as fortunate.

"I am glad to hear of that. Working with Madam Skeeter is not an appealing task, I do sympathise with you, however, it is a necessary one."

Desperation to perhaps convince him to release her of her job got the best of her patience, "Why, may I ask? I am excellent at potions and I have a good enough hand with duelling. I'm a fast learner, too."

"I've heard very good things about your skill with potions-" Liar, Lyra thought. The day Severus Snape complimented her to Headmaster Dumbledore was the day Voldemort would renounce his quest for evil and become a monk, concerned with the welfare of humanity. "-Speaking of which, how has Professor Snape been treating you? He is a hard man to work with." Her defence of the man in topic surprised even her, "On the contrary, he's been lovely."

"Lovely? I don't believe I've ever heard anyone call Severus lovely before." He surprisingly didn't look rightfully dubious of her statement, he just stated it as a fact.

She cocked her head backwards with a scowl on her face, staring the most forbiddable wizard in this day and age down, "There's a first time for everything, right? My point is that so far, he's been very agreeable-" That wasn't exactly a lie. He might not have been agreeable to a general standard but he wasn't exactly unagreeable either. He did his job well and efficiently, even if it came along with sharp barbs and witty comments- comments that she found to actually be of great humour. "-and I'm very lucky to have him as a mentor of sorts." Not that she needed one, really, already having had completed her education, of course, but Professor Snape had a bound of knowledge that was far deeper than anyone she had ever met before. The fact he was willing to share some of it with her was more than she could have ever asked for and she didn't want to be ungrateful. Yes, that's where her defence of him came from.

The Headmaster assessed her for a moment, all the meanwhile, the smile on his face remained. She remained silent, for what else was there to be done but that? "Never, in any of my years of knowing Severus, have I seen anyone so determined in their defence of him." What was that look in his eyes? He looked almost...touched. But, that couldn't be, who in the world could possibly affect Albus Dumbledore? Certainly not her, if such a person even existed.

"It was only the truth. Anyways, after working for Skeeter, Professor Snape's a piece of cake," She said, trying to make light of the conversation. "I would imagine so. Earlier, you mentioned that you were unclear on the reason I assigned you to Madam Skeeter, which brings us to the point of this meeting."

She feebly nodded, "I assumed it was because you wanted to keep tabs on her? Or, maybe someone to influence her work?"

"And that would be useful, however, my primary motive putting you there was to act as a means to an end. You are a very valuable resource to have, Miss Lupin. It would be a terrible misfortune for me to overlook that."

She didn't quite agree with him but she carried on, growing more confused by the minute, somehow. "I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I'm a little lost, Headmaster."

"No matter, I'm afraid I've not explained myself accurately. Allow me to backtrack. You are familiar with your roommate?"

"Kat? What's she to do with anything?" A foreboding pit in her stomach grew with anticipation for his answer.

"She doesn't, as of yet. However, I have a very trustworthy source that told me that we have reason to distrust her."

She prompted him, "Distrust her of what?"

"Her loyalty," was his vague answer. Lyra waited for him to continue but he didn't. Her frustration with the man grew instantaneously. "So you want me to destroy any sort of friendship I might possibly have with my roommate to spy on her based loosely on a hunch you have?"

Wasn't she just saying earlier that Kat was not someone to trifle with? Why, in God's green earth, was she even considering this? "A very reliable hunch. I understand that this is a difficult position I've put you in, Miss Lupin, but I have every single confidence that you will find yourself victorious in this matter."

"And if I choose not to do this?"

He gave her a blank stare, almost as if he hadn't even considered her not going with his plan. "We would find ourselves to be at a great disadvantage." She nodded her acquiescence as if he was a puppeteer and she his puppet. She wasn't sure exactly how it was possible that he gave her a choice without truly giving her a choice, but that's precisely what he did.

For, what could she do? This was Dumbledore's Order, not hers. He chose how he ran things and he knew best, likely, or he wouldn't be in such a position. As for her, she agreed to put in her utmost effort to defeat Voldemort. No, she didn't just agree, she swore it in her initiation. She didn't know what Kat may or may not have to do with the longevity of Voldemort but Dumbledore seemed to think she did and that was that. "Thank you, Lyra. That will be all for today." He waved her off inconsequentially, returning to his paperwork. She got up, her legs resembling that of jelly.

Her earlier encounter still in mind once she left Dumbledore's office, she mouthed silently to herself, "Indeed." No, it sounded much better out of his mouth than hers.