Chapter 8

Dragons

A long and painful argument unfolded within Minerva's office. Athena relentlessly berated Lyra while Minerva silently listened to the barrage of harsh words from her sister.

"A broken nose...a broken jaw...a duel...with a respected professor...you know how bad this looks?! You should be thankful that I managed to salvage the situation. Thank Merlin he doesn't want to press charges!"

Lyra stood her ground, her voice resolute.

"Like I've said already...some five billion times. Neither was this my fault, nor am I apologizing for it!"

Athena's frustration reached its peak.

"I can't...I can't keep doing this with you, Lyra...I do not possess the patience your brother does. And you know he may keep up with his position as your constant defender...but I'm done! There's just no reasoning with you. You are arrogant and stubborn, and I am done! You will apologize to that man!"

Lyra's defiance remained unwavering.

"I will not!"

"I am the headmistress of AIMS. I am responsible for the well-being of my school, its reputation...I will not have you besmirch AIMS over your overinflated ego! You will apologize, or Sarah will not have a mentor for the first task! Is that what you want?" Athena snapped angrily. Lyra clenched her fists, her frustration evident.

"If he used his words, why didn't you? You are rather quick with nasty comebacks with the rest of us. And this duel...I can bet my life and say you provoked it! This has gone tits-up, and I've had enough. Please stop making my life so difficult, Lyra!" Athena said exasperatedly.

Lyra ground her teeth, holding back what she was about to say, crossing her arms in frustration.

"It wasn't...I was actually trying to...if you'd just let me explain..." Lyra retorted, her irritation growing.

"Save it! Go to the hospital wing, apologize...or there will be consequences!" Athena declared, throwing her hands up in frustration before storming out of the office.

Lyra sighed in contemplation, then walked over to the large windows in the office, watching as the sun began to set.

"Here."

Startled, Lyra turned to see Minerva offering her a steaming mug.

"Is... that... coffee?" Lyra asked in surprise, accepting the cup gratefully.

"Thank you...I...I haven't had a decent cup of coffee in weeks...and I literally live on this!" Lyra said appreciatively as she took the cup.

"Why don't we sit down?" Minerva suggested. Lyra sighed softly and followed her aunt to the large armchairs in her office. Minerva then summoned a box of biscuits, offering it to Lyra.

"Ginger Newts!" Lyra exclaimed happily as she picked one up, her mood lifting instantly.

"I love these...but you don't get them in Boston. I've tried everything...I even tried asking my...uncle...no...can't call him my uncle...my godfather's friend, Jacob, to recreate them...he's a muggle baker...married to a..."

"I know who Jacob is..." Minerva said, smiling at her.

"Oh..." Lyra remarked, taking a bite out of the biscuit and finally feeling herself calm down. She had been on edge since her arrival at Hogwarts, but with Minerva, she felt like she could lower her defenses. In a short period, Minerva had managed to earn her trust.

"You think I fucked up as well, don't you, Aunt Minerva?" Lyra asked as Minerva looked at her and nodded gently.

"Just a wee bit..." She replied.

"Yeah, I know...it's just that...I didn't start any of it...I was just sitting there minding my own business, and then people started yelling and chanting Sarah's name. I only went to check if she was alright. Snape was trying to bait her into a duel with Shorthorn. He said some nasty things about her, and I wasn't going to let that stand."

Minerva shook her head and sighed.

"I beat his ass in the duel, although…I have to give it to him…he's rusty… but powerful." Said Lyra picking her third biscuit.

"Professor Snape is one of the most respected teachers we have, Lyra."

Lyra raised an eyebrow and chuckled sarcastically.

"No, see, that's where you're wrong. He's not respected...he's feared. There's a substantial difference between the two."

"Lyra...he's not stupid. Yes, all of this...most feared professor act is a kind of pretense that he loves to keep up, and more often than not, it's my Gryffindors on the line. But he is actually a very powerful and intelligent wizard."

"I can't believe you're defending him!" Lyra scoffed.

"I am not defending him, Lyra...but your actions are reprimandable...not just for you, but for your niece as well. This is not America, Lyra. The way they treat you there, they will not treat you here. Here you are a threat to them. So those glances and giggles and whispers...are not out of respect either. They're out of envy and fear."

"You think I don't know that, Minerva?" Lyra sighed in irritation.

"You think... people don't keep assuming that they know me...like I am the same person they see in the papers? Most of my life...goes into keeping up with that pretense. For the coven, for the force, for the witches and wizards of my country. I am not some messiah...that they keep making me out to be. I am just really good at my job! I never asked to be put on some pedestal...they just left me there and expected me to operate on their terms. I am not someone who operates well within walls. But one foot out of line, and suddenly everything I have ever done turns to ashes. One foot out of line, and they start treating me like I am some lost cause...it's not just England...it's everyone. I never asked to be a powerful witch, I never asked to be...who I am...gosh...sometimes I wonder that myself, don't I? Am I someone who's good? Am I someone who's bad? Hell, I don't even know where I come from, who my parents really are... how am I supposed to know who I truly am, if I don't even know what my own identity is...am I even a Marks? All I know is that I'm not perfect...far from it, actually. That's why I keep making sure...people know that I'm not...because if I stop...if I stop being the asshole that I am...I...I don't...know who I'll be..." Lyra poured out her rambling feelings, the words spilling from her in a torrent.

She didn't know why she had chosen this moment to unleash her inner turmoil on this unknown aunt of hers. However, somehow, Lyra felt comfortable around Minerva, an unusual sensation for her. She didn't trust people easily, but with Minerva, there was an added layer of familial connection. And if anything, Lyra had learned a valuable lesson early in life: pushing her family away wouldn't lead to her own well-being.

"You are a good person...never forget that." Minerva said, looking her directly in the eyes.

Lyra managed a timid smile and glanced away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She believed Minerva's compliment had stemmed from pity. In her mind, Lyra couldn't accept that she was a beautiful person. Good, decent people didn't grapple with their inner demons so fiercely, nor did they resort to punching others in the face.

"You're one of the kindest people I've met. But you would change your mind once you got to know me." Lyra replied, shaking her head.

"I think I know you well enough, my dear...your mother loves writing about you. And nothing, in this world, would make me change my mind." Minerva assured her, her hand resting gently on Lyra's. There was a depth in her gaze that hinted at unspoken words, yet Minerva chose to keep them to herself. Lyra, too, decided not to delve into it further. She didn't want Minerva to view her in a diminished light, and her recent actions may have already raised doubt.

A pang of emotion surged through Lyra's heart, but she kept it to herself. She never knew how to address such feelings.

"I...should go...apologize to him. I suppose, I don't have to really mean it..." Lyra sighed as she stood.

Minerva chuckled softly at the comment and nodded her head.

"Right! Off I go! Thank you for this, Aunt Minerva... this was...nice." Lyra said as she opened the office door, feeling much better than before.

"Sit still, Severus!" Madam Pomfrey scolded, bustling around him, her hands expertly examining his battered face.

"Merlin, did she smash your face with a rock? Your nose is completely broken!" She clucked disapprovingly, gently moving his face from side to side, each movement causing Snape to wince.

"Could you possibly be a bit gentler?" Snape snarled at her, earning a warning look in return. Dumbledore chuckled at their exchange, earning a glare from Snape.

Dumbledore had sent Zeus away, and Athena had gone to reprimand Lyra after Albus had dismissed the incident as a display of simple competitive spirit between schools. This gave him a brief opportunity to discuss the situation with Snape.

"Wait here…I have a feeling an Episkey won't do the trick…might have to reset it…let me get some Skele-Gro…you're in for a rough night!" Madam Pomfrey remarked, shaking her head with pity. Snape rolled his eyes at her and she moved towards her office to retrieve the bottle.

"This is your fault, Albus!" Snape spat, lightly tapping his completely swollen and still bleeding nose.

"My fault?"

"You were the one who said, find out whatever you can about her…I tried to read her mind…"

"And…?"

"And…what? And...nothing! I saw brief glimpses of fire…and flashes from when she was a teenager…some old woman yelling at her...nothing that stood out. Basic cover memories…nothing deeper. She's not stupid to keep herself open. What was I thinking…listening to you! Besides, when I managed to catch her off-guard, she figured it out. She shoved me out instantly!"

"She…she knows?"

"She knows…and this is the result of it."

"She punched you in the face for reading her mind…is that really all there is?"

"Partially…" Snape commented gingerly.

"Severus?" Dumbledore looked at him over his half-moon glasses, urging him to continue.

"Partially…because I also called her an immature little bitch." Snape smirked proudly.

"Merlin's beard, Severus! The objective of this was to get friendly with her…not to get punched in the face!"

"Why do we even need her?" Snape groaned as he raised his handkerchief to clean the blood that was now pouring through, wincing in pain when he touched it.

"Harry Potter's name flying out of the Goblet wasn't a coincidence, Severus, we both know this. Yet, we don't know what is to unfold this year as a result of it. Our approach might be risky, and having someone as powerful as her on our side would be beneficial."

"For that…I need to know her motives, Severus. The 27 Coven…have always been interested in the boy. Tessra Jones…did address my worries. However, we must be certain."

"You're powerful enough, Albus…you're the original Dumbledore! Why do you need this ridiculous copy of yourself around?" Snape joked darkly.

"Be that as it may…we need her. I had hoped you'd win her over…" Albus sighed.

"What do you want me to do, Albus…she clearly despises me…"

"You have given her every reason to. I had hoped that you might be able to entice her…"

"Am I supposed to charm her? If you've forgotten, my personality is not exactly conducive to when it comes to…women like her…insufferable Gryffindors."

"Not what I've heard from the women down in the muggle village..." Albus stated laughing. Snape gave him a sharp look.

"She's most smitten by you anyway…perhaps it is better if you "charmed" her instead…" Snape added snarkily. Albus chuckled.

"I could be her father, Severus… I don't think she'd be interested in me…" Albus laughed. Snape seemed to find humor in this as well.

"Not what most of the women in the world do say. I am sure you've still got it, Dumbledore…don't sell yourself short." Snape replied, both of them chuckling, although Snape winced in pain while doing so.

"However, something...must be done." Albus muttered, and Snape continued the painful ministrations of his nose.

"She's really done a number on you, my boy…dignity and nose." Albus chuckled, and Snape shot him a glare.

"Yeah…about that…" Lyra muttered, suddenly appearing behind Dumbledore. Both men were startled, wondering when she had arrived. Had she overheard their conversation?

"Ms. Marks… I didn't see you come in…" Dumbledore stated slowly, assessing the situation cautiously. However, it appeared that she was unaware of their prior conversation.

"I just got here..."

The three of them stood in silence. Dumbledore observed Lyra shuffling her feet, while Snape maintained his glare, the now completely bloodied handkerchief still clutched to his nose.

"I came here to apologize, Mr. Snape. Although, I'm not entirely sure why…" She trailed off, her voice fading towards the end.

"But...I'm sorry." She added, her apology sounding somewhat half-hearted.

Snape couldn't help but smirk as she clenched her fists. However, Dumbledore intervened, clearing his throat and giving Snape a pointed look.

"I...I apologize for my words as well." Snape grumbled, his own apology carrying a note of reluctance.

"I hope these apologies help bridge the divide between the two of you. This tournament is, after all, about fostering harmony among our nations." Dumbledore wisely stated. Both Snape and Lyra rolled their eyes in unison at his sermon.

"Here...let me see." She offered, walking over to the bed, her expression softening slightly.

As she examined Snape's nose, her chest came remarkably close to his face. He tried his best to maintain eye contact with her, but the tattoo on her breast, peeking through her shirt with each breath she took, proved to be an incredibly distracting sight.

"Keep your hands off me..." Snape growled, swatting her hand away, though it was more a reflex than genuine irritation.

"Stop being such a baby…" She snapped in response. She continued to check his nose, and as she gently touched it, he winced in pain. It was clearly badly broken. No wonder, her knuckles her still hurting.

Lyra then retrieved her wand and waved it in intricate patterns over his nose. To Snape's amazement, his broken nose realigned itself, and she continued to mutter the spell under her breath. The bleeding stopped, the swelling vanished completely, and even the bruising faded away.

She stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"There... good as new." She said with a smirk, her eyes fixed on his face. He gingerly touched his perfectly fixed nose, the pain having disappeared, allowing him to breathe freely once again.

"Thank you." He grumbled, genuinely appreciative. Snape knew that an Episkey charm would never have achieved such a remarkable result. She had clearly used a more advanced healing spell to fix it so effortlessly.

"How...how did you do that?" Madam Pomfrey asked in astonishment.

"Skele-Grow is a fucking scam!" Lyra retorted, eyeing the bottle disdainfully. Madam Pomfrey looked somewhat affronted by her statement.

Lyra turned back to the two men and directed her attention to Snape, who was still examining his nose.

"As for you, Mr. Snape." She began, her tone more serious. Her nostrils flared when she spoke.

"You don't need to thank me. However, a word of caution—stay out of my head. It's not a pleasant place. I don't know what you were searching for in there, but it's a chaotic mess. It's in your best interest to steer clear." She delivered the warning with a menacing edge. Snape leaned back slightly, feeling thoroughly chastised by her.

Without another word, she turned and strode out of the hospital wing, leaving the two men to watch her until she disappeared from their line of sight.

Lyra was relieved that she had managed to maintain her composure as best as she could. Athena's advice had been sound – this was likely the best way to mend things. She flexed her hand, which was throbbing with pain from the punch. Lyra knew she needed to soak it in an ice bath and bandage it before it worsened. Her right hand needed to be in perfect working condition if she was going to assist Sarah in overcoming the first task.

"Lyra!"

Startled, Lyra turned to find Sarah standing by her quarters.

"What are you doing here?" Lyra inquired.

"Dragons, Lyra! They've chosen dragons for the first task!"

"What!"

"Harry Potter found out somehow. He was so grateful that I stood up for him, he confided in me."

"How did he find out?"

"I have no idea... but all the other champions are aware too...I've sent a letter to Grandpa, asking for his help."

"That's a wise move, Sarah, but you do realize it'll take the owl at least a week to reach him?"

"Can't we send Burst?"

"Burst is nearing her burning day...a journey like this would be too strenuous for her."

"I'm terrified, Ly! How am I supposed to face a dragon?" Sarah fretted, her hands anxiously rubbing her arms.

"Well...you don't have to face it alone." Lyra reassured her, though inwardly, alarm bells were ringing loudly.

"But..."

"We'll figure it out! Now, go get some rest."

The first task loomed closer, and Lyra found herself without a solution. She had combed through everything she knew about defense, but battling dragons was uncharted territory. Her memories from Magical Beasts class were limited to the professor's warning about dragons being magnificent yet exceptionally dangerous creatures.

Sarah had scoured the library for any helpful information, but had come up empty-handed.

Lyra had made up her mind. Whatever happened, she was determined to protect Sarah from the dragon, even if it meant putting herself at risk.

Lyra struggled to think of any spells that might work against the dragon, but nothing seemed practical. As the day approached, her anxiety escalated, conjuring terrifying scenarios in her mind. That night, Lyra decided to venture into the village in search of some "liquid courage." She had been doing her best to abstain from alcohol over the past few weeks, but she felt she needed it to dispel the dark thoughts that plagued her.

Skipping dinner, she headed to the village. Dobby had mentioned the Three Broomsticks, a popular inn where students enjoyed butterbeer. However, when she pressed him for a more discreet watering hole, he reluctantly mentioned the Hog's Head, a somewhat unsavory place on the outskirts of the village.

The November winds cut through Lyra's denim jacket, and she pulled it tightly around herself as she reached her destination. It was around eight in the evening, and the village was already quiet. Most shops were closed, and few people roamed the cobblestone streets. Lyra briskly walked into the disreputable establishment, eager to escape the cold.

Lyra approached the bartender as she removed her jacket and scarf. The man was tall, with a receding hairline but a massive bun of silver and brown hair at the back of his head. His beard rivaled even Dumbledore's, albeit with hints of brown. He stared at her, mouth slightly agape, making her feel uncomfortably out of place when she settled onto a stool before him. She brushed it off, assuming he was one of those people who recognized her and had a momentary freeze.

Clearing her throat, she attempted to get his attention. He finally blinked, offering her a sour look.

"We don't serve Gillywater here!" He snapped at her.

"Fire whiskey will do...please." Lyra replied crisply. He laughed, and some patrons joined in with dark chuckles.

"You seem lost, Miss. This isn't the Three Broomsticks." He said sharply as he wiped a glass.

"I'm in the right place. Do you have fire whiskey, or should I take my business elsewhere?" Lyra retorted.

"Slow down, slow down, your majesty! You won't find fire whiskey anywhere else in Hogsmeade." He quipped. Then, he grudgingly cracked open a bottle and poured her a small glass.

"Large. Please." She requested, watching him pour. He chuckled at her.

"Are you sure you can handle that? Fire whiskey is no joke. It's not advisable to get drunk around this lot, especially with a face as pretty as yours." He remarked in a paternal tone. Lyra shot him a glare.

"Alright…alright…don't get your knickers in a twist! Just hope you know your way home." He muttered under his breath.

"Leave the bottle." She snapped.

"That'll be fifty galleons!" He exclaimed, clearly surprised. No one ever bought an entire bottle of fire whiskey here. Was she made of gold?

Lyra quickly placed the money on the table, which left him looking at it in astonishment. He grumbled something about "Bloody American hot-shots" coming into his bar and ruining the atmosphere.

Lyra nursed her drink for a while before pouring herself more.

"Ms. Marks?" Called out a cheerful voice. Lyra looked up from her contemplation to see a burly man. She studied him with curiosity, recalling that he was one of the professors at Hogwarts.

"Oh...hello...professor..." She began.

"Hagrid...Rubeus Hagrid. No need to call me 'professor'." He said with a warm smile.

"Right...Mr. Hagrid...it's nice to meet you. If you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone..." Lyra started, but he was too drunk to grasp her desire for solitude.

"You know...your work is truly marvelous!" He exclaimed, banging his mead-filled mug on the table, causing the bartender to glare at him. Hagrid noticed.

"Uh... thank you..." Lyra replied, trying her best to ignore him.

"Go on, Aberforth...do you know who this is!" Hagrid's enthusiastic proclamation drew the bartender's attention, though he looked up disinterestedly.

"What's so special about her?" Snorted the bartender.

"Mr... Hagrid..." Lyra attempted to intervene. She was uncertain about the company she was surrounded by; they could be dark wizards for all she knew.

"The American Dumbledore! Lyra Marks!" Hagrid exclaimed jubilantly, causing Lyra to bury her head in her hands. Aberforth observed her closely and chuckled lightly.

Lyra's head sank even lower, that blasted name followed her everywhere! But it seemed that the patrons of the bar had already dismissed the giant as just another inebriated spectacle.

"Don't worry, Ms. Marks. I'm not particularly fond of the Dumbledore name either," Aberforth remarked wryly. Lyra wondered what he meant by that.

"Go home, Hagrid...you're drunk!" Slurred a man from the back, prompting laughter throughout the pub.

"Aye! I am...but I'm still the one looking after those great beasts in the forest. So, it's best not to cross me right now, Collins!" Hagrid retorted. The pub chuckled again, treating him as if he were a humorous spectacle.

Lyra's ears perked up. Had he just mentioned that he was responsible for the "great beasts" in the forest?

"What kind of beasts, Mr. Hagrid?" Lyra asked, now highly intrigued by this man. His eyes gleamed brightly at her interest as he took a deep gulp from his mug.

"My favorite kind, Ms. Marks...Dragons!"

"Oh, that's absolutely fascinating...Dragons, you say...?"

"Yeah...they're incredibly challenging to tame! Highly misunderstood creatures, they are. Tough hides...but they have a weakness for gold. Cut one with a bit of gold, and it'll put them to sleep right away! It's quite easy to knock one out, you know...not many people know this, but I've been doing it with just parts of me wand...simply keep using a sleeping charm, and they become harmless, I tell you!" Hagrid whispered, heavily influenced by alcohol.

"But...you won't tell no one I told you this, will you Ms. Marks...they're just poor creatures!" He slurred waving his mug of mead and splashing its contents all over.

"Yes, they're undoubtedly misunderstood." Lyra agreed, doing her best to keep him engaged in conversation. However, it seemed that this was all he had to offer. In the next moment, he had fallen asleep on the bar top.

"Merlin, Hagrid! Not again!" The bartender grumbled, attempting to rouse the slumbering half-giant.

Lyra suddenly felt much lighter. She was no longer consumed by worry about her dragon predicament; the solution had quite literally fallen into her lap. She continued to drink, now celebrating in silence. Soon, she had polished off more than half the bottle herself.

Checking the time on her watch, she decided to light a cigarette.

"Oi! This place is made of wood, you imbecile! Do you want to set us all on fire? Get out!" The bartender snapped. Lyra grumbled in response as she picked up the bottle and her jacket and stumbled out of the bar.

"Fucking idiot!" She muttered to herself, then placed her bottle on the ground. She proceeded to light her cigarette. The cold had returned, but the whiskey in her bloodstream and her jacket worked together to keep her warm. In the midst of her smoke break, Lyra noticed a pair of eyes gleaming in the darkness. She took a step back in fear, blinking in surprise.

Was that... a Grim? What was Erasmus doing here? Had he returned with another dreadful mission?

The dog growled at her, but she brandished her wand at it. The dog sniffed the air and then sat down, panting. Lyra was too inebriated to comprehend what was happening. She crouched down, holding her cigarette in her mouth.

"You're not so scary, are you? You're just hungry...poor thing!" She cooed, slurring her words. She pulled out a broken cookie she had stolen from lunch earlier.

"Here you go, buddy." She said, offering it to the dog, which eagerly devoured it from her hand and then licked her hand. She playfully roughhoused with the dog for a few more minutes, leaving drunken kisses all over its face. She started to stand, reaching for her bottle, but the dog was quicker. It snatched the bottle from her hand and made a run for it.

"What the fuck...get back here, you thief!" She snarled at the dog, who disappeared down the road.

Lyra blinked multiple times as everything started spinning. She somehow managed to make her way back to Hogwarts and found a comfortable bench on the grounds before passing out.

The light stabbed at her eyes as Lyra woke up, nursing the worst headache she'd ever experienced. Blinking, she surveyed her surroundings. She was in Hogwarts, but not in her own room. She sat up, clutching her head in her hands, only to realize she was wearing nothing but her undergarments beneath a long bedroom robe. Panic set in. What had happened last night? She vaguely remembered arriving at the castle, then sitting on a bench...and now she was here. In the distance, she could hear children's laughter. Had she slept with someone from Hogwarts in a drunken haze? It couldn't be true, could it?

"Thank Merlin you're finally awake! I was afraid I'd have to fetch Madam Pomfrey!" Came an irritated voice as Lyra struggled to clear her blurry vision. She desperately needed another one of Zenia's patented vision potions to alleviate her genetically poor eyesight.

"Accio glasses..." She croaked, and her spectacles flew into her hands from her nearby jacket. She put them on, squinting in the harsh light that aggravated her throbbing head.

Minerva stood by the bed, her expression stern and clearly angry. Lyra couldn't help but notice the strong resemblance between Minerva and her sister, Margery, although, thankfully, none of the three sisters looked like their own mother. Lyra leaned back against the headboard, her head pounding.

"Here... drink this!" Minerva said sternly, offering her a hangover potion.

She recalled the awkward visit to Severus's office earlier that morning, where she had requested one. He had given her a sly smirk and a small laugh at her discomfort before handing it over.

"Enjoyable evening, Professor? I saw you with Ludo Bagman...quite an interesting choice for a drinking partner..." He had teased, insinuating far more than just a night of drinks.

Lyra took the vial of black liquid from Minerva and downed it, feeling instant relief.

"Thank you..." She mumbled sheepishly.

"What were you thinking, Lyra? Or were you not thinking at all?!"

"Drunk out of your mind... passed out in the middle of the grounds...what would have happened if..."

"I know...I know...if the students had seen me..." Lyra sighed, waiting for Minerva to continue chastising her for her recklessness. She stepped out of the bed and summoned her clothes. As she stripped off the robe and began changing, Minerva's gaze fell upon Lyra's tattoo, a large red and gold phoenix soaring out of a fiery storm, running from her left shoulder to the middle of her cleavage. It was intricate and striking.

Lyra buttoned her shirt, and Minerva, still wearing her stern expression, shook her head.

"No. I don't care about that...what if you had gotten hypothermia?!" Minerva scolded, her concern showing. Lyra blushed and smiled, touched by her aunt's genuine worry. Minerva was so different from Athena; she wouldn't have hesitated to unleash her wrath upon Lyra for being so reckless around students.

"That's sweet, Minerva..." Lyra replied, her smile genuine. Minerva's nostrils flared with anger.

"May I request that we keep this...between us...? I'd rather not have to endure Athena's wrath today...I can already feel a terrible headache coming on..."

"Lyra...why were you even at that hole-in-the-wall...?"

"To escape the noise. I think I'll need to go back there...I left my favorite scarf." Lyra replied fabricating an excuse. In truth, she planned to return for more than just her scarf.

"The Hog's Head is a place for petty criminals...not a place you should be frequenting!" Minerva snapped, catching on to her blatant lie. Lyra chuckled, and for the second time, Minerva's expression seemed to soften. There was an odd, longing look in her eyes as she regarded her niece, but Lyra chose to ignore it, again.

"I should be on my way. I'm sure you have a busy day ahead as well." Lyra said, picking up her jacket. Minerva gave her a pointed look.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Aunt Minerva. I appreciate you looking out for me." Lyra said with a warm smile before leaving Minerva's quarters.

Minerva sighed deeply, rubbing her temples in frustration. There were so many things she wanted to say to Lyra, starting with her behavior from the previous night. Yet every time Lyra smiled at her, she couldn't help but hold back.

AN/- Do leave a review if you like the story. Thanks!