There was someone in her home. Someone. Some stranger, and they were in her home. Her safe place that she shared with Sirius. Her wand was steady as her mind raced through the possibilities.
Had there been an escape from Azkaban? She started thinking back to every Prophet in the last week, every conversation she had had with Dora or Kingsley. Was it Lucius Malfoy, here to get his revenge for the death of his son and his own imprisonment?
The Lestrange brothers?
Dolores Umbridge? It seemed the sadistic thing she'd do, sneak into the house that the country's hero shared with her ex convict godfather and find some way to ruin her life and discredit her in the eyes of the public.
But sitting in the shadows listening to Lyra talk with her fiancé didn't seem the level Umbridge would stoop to. There wasn't a pink cushioned armchair in the corner that the sound was coming from, so Lyra discredited that idea seconds after it occurred to her.
Although Lyra had seen Malfoy stripped of all his dignity after the Battle of Hogwarts, and then again at his trial in front of all those he had blackmailed and humiliated, crouched in the shadows of her kitchen was not something she could imagine the proud, vain man doing.
Could it be Rita Skeeter?
She was still occasionally sneaking out her snide articles into the Prophet. So far, it hadn't been enough for Lyra to publicly complain, as to do so for such trivial matters would have prompted more articles and more and more.
But, this, if it was Rita Skeeter, would be enough to put the reporter in the spotlight, to place her in the Ministry holding cells until such a time as Kingsley deigned to give her a trial.
So far, Rita's articles had been minor, not too offensive, not too intrusive. It felt likely that she'd been building up for a year to one huge article that would humiliate Lyra Potter, and Lyra could easily imagine the woman sneaking into her house to do so.
But not in her human form, no, Lyra knew just as well as Rita did that if Rita wanted to release information that delved far beyond the normal boundaries of privacy that people preferred, Rita would overhear it in her bug form. Her beetle. Her still unregistered animagus ability.
Charlie stood beside Lyra, his wand as hers was, trained upon the shadowed corner of the room. They were both silent, and the only sounds that he could hear now were the sounds of three breaths. There was definitely someone in the room with them, and it definitely wasn't Sirius.
Lyra motioned to Charlie to keep guard, before moving slowly forward, her wand pointed harshly on the black where she thought the intruders face was. Her own face was menacing, stern and forbidding as she prepared to fight. To capture. Even a year after the war had ended, Lyra's senses were still as attuned as they had been.
The shadows moved, and stirred. There was a sound of a sob. Lyra exchanged startled looks with Charlie before returning her gaze to the mystery 'guest'. Eventually, she was close enough to drag the intruder out of the shadows and into the light.
It wasn't who she was expecting.