Ha! Chapter 5! I'm doing good, neh? I thought so, anyways haha short chapter. Not filler, kind of important. Secrets, secrets and a mystery I like a good mystery…

Purplepenguin12: I made Lyra younger to limit myself a bit; I want to keep this in the T rating as long as possible. Once she's seventeen though…who knows? haha. And I might be just a bit of a Fred and George fan…there may be a tiny fan girl in me somewhere that squeals every time they're mentioned…ok, Im a big fan. Can you blame me?

Onwards! Haha

Disclaimer: I don't own the twins or Harry Potter, no matter how many letters, emails and video messages I leave J.K. Rowling…

Bold/Italics- Mysterious voice.

Bold- Lyra's thoughts.

Regular- Lyra talking out loud.

To be a Gryffindor

The old grandfather clock in the common room struck three, its gentle chimes filling the Gryffindor dorms softly as not to wake the occupants. All except for Lyra, the sound seemed magnified in her ears the gongs deep and ominous as she sat up a deep gasp leaving her throat causing her to choke until she groped along her bedside table for the glass of water, sipping it until the tickle in her throat disappear; her chest heaving.

Breathing easier she looked to her dorm mates, pleased to see she hadn't woken them up. Coughing she smoothed down her wrinkled skirt and dress shirt. She'd been too exhausted and filled with nervous energy to change, so she'd taken out her notebook and then….nothing.

'Probably should get up and change...' She absently noted grasping the notebook and pulling it into her lap, slipping her wand from under her pillow, drawing the drapes around her bed closed while casting a silencing charm with a few flicks of her wand.

Rubbing her eye she looked down at the neat calligraphy on the page. As usual, it was the same riddle she always woke up to, with no memory of writing it, at the top corner of her page since her fifteenth birthday. Rolling her eyes in exasperation she tossed the book to the end of the bed reciting it scornfully.

"What force and strength cannot get through

I with a gentle touch can do

And many in the street would stand

Were I not a friend at hand..'

Not that she had to guess what it meant. She knew the answer just like she knew she'd awoken at exactly three a.m.

'So what does it mean then?' A silky voice purred in her head and Lyra groaned falling back burrowing herself in her pillows. "It's you…" A groan of annoyance escaped her, and briefly she wondered if she could smother herself to stop the voice. No, probably not.

"Of course it's me…did you expect anyone else? Those two boys you seem to fancy, perhaps?"

Lyra sat up quickly, glaring at the drapes as if they hid the one talking to her. "Leave them out of this…oh Merlin. Now I'm talking back…I'll be sent to St. Mungo's for sure…" She whimpered rubbing her forehead as he chuckled deeply, a rumble that seemed to shake her bed.

"I'm very real, little one. You know that, you've seen me." The voice pressed softly, utterly male as the deep tenor burrowed in her ears, causing Lyra to scowl.

"You only think I have." Lyra retorted pulling the blankets up over her head as if to shield herself. "It's not normal, even in the wizarding world, to hear voices in your head in the dead of night." Unless you were Harry bloody Potter, then it was a regular cake walk.

"Night is my father's time. He allows me its usage because you take great pains to ignore me during the day…"

"Because, again, voices in the head? Not normal."

"And you fit this description of normal?" He said, and Lyra suddenly had the impression of a large grin filled with the sharp razor teeth of a predator. Lyra snorted. "Obviously not, I'm talking to you aren't I?"

He chuckled, amused by the child and added. "I would leave you if you would speak my name." He prompted going silent for a moment.

Lyra scowled siting up turning her furious eyes to the ceiling. "I don't know your name."

"It's not polite to lie, little one. " He replied with a soft dangerous growl and Lyra grasped her necklace in response. "It's not polite to wake people up at 3 in the morning either. And I'm not lying! I don't know your name." She said and he snorted. "As you will….and now little one? The riddle, before you slip off into sleep?"

As soon as he said the word Lyra yawned gently falling back snuggling deep into thee pillows that surrounded her. "It's always the same….same riddle, same answer. Always the same." She murmured rubbing her cheek against the silk like a cat searching for its favorite place.

"The answer then…" He prompted. "Key." She said aloud, sleepily lifting one lid of her eyes. "It's always 'key' every time. Never changes…why is that?" Dropping her lids back down, she purred softly curling into a ball.

"You tell me…" He chuckled deeply as she finally drifted off again.

Wicky trembled as he entered the girls' dorm, not long after Lyra fell asleep for the second time. He sniffled as he padded toward her bed. Pushing the curtains aside his little body trembled as he hugged himself before hoping up on the bed, pausing hunched over as Lyra shifted a soft sigh escaping her.

"Oh…Bad Wicky.." He murmured softly huddling in the corner of the four-poster bed, watching her with teary green eyes. Banging his head against the post a few times, he wiped his running nose on his sleeve. He still had work to do. Fumbling he reached into the large tunic he wore and slid the agate wand free pointing it at Lyra. He trembled, his awkward mouth fumbling with the words as fat tears rolled down his tough cheeks. The wand shimmered green, brightening until it turned silver and he closed his eyes tightly, finishing the spell he'd been taught.

His Lie whimpered her eyes opening to show black, the white gone from her eyes as well as the deep chocolate-brown that usually resided there. Only the black of the void remained. He stowed the wand away biting on his fingers as Lyra whispered something in return, her eyes shifting to normal before closing.

She hadn't even stirred, and the guilt ridden house-elf almost wished she had. Wicky hated keeping secrets from his lie! With a choked sob he snapped heading back down to the kitchens where he could punish himself properly for keeping secrets while Lyra laid in bed safely.

Her dreams made no sense to her that night. A menacing laugh, dodger blue eyes which shifted quickly to large black ones the true color of the void; as if night its self had folded up and stored itself into their sockets. A flurry of colors followed, and though she couldn't make sense of them it was only a dream.

But dreams had purpose, most knew, even little house elves down in the kitchens knew they were important if you knew to watch and listen.

Poor wicky! Oh, what the hell did I just make him do!?

Next up! Lyra finally questions the twins motives….