December arrived in a whirlwind of snow and Lyra swore the highlands of Scotland transformed overnight. The grounds of Hogwarts looked more magical than ever and she couldn't believe her luck when she woke up one day to the blindingly bright scene beyond the windows. She had never experienced snow like it before, Weymouth was rarely blessed with the white powdery ice and it was one of the reasons why she despised the seaside, she always wanted a white Christmas. She discovered almost instantly that snow was an excellent tool for aspiring mischief makers, Fred and George were sure to show her the perfect spell that allowed her to hit unsuspecting targets with snowballs from impressively far distances and she didn't hesitate to use it on Draco every time she spotted him across a courtyard. It was safe to say that Lyra adored snow.

The last month of the year also brought Lyra one more surprise in the form of her fully-grown owl.

"Apollo! Look at you!" squealed Lyra, grinning at her glossy-feathered owl who was strolling up and down her bed sheets as though it were a catwalk, hopping and cooing as he stretched his sunburst wings. He looked beautiful and he knew it, his black eyes squinted in joy as he caught sight of himself in her mirror, hooting as he admired his body. He didn't have the fuzzy baby feathers anymore, his iconic plumage arrived almost overnight and he became more social each day. He was ready to fly.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it — you look stunning," sighed Lyra, attempting to calm him down so she could attach her letter, "are you sure you're up for your first flight? Do you know where Weymouth is?"

Apollo blinked and let out a soft hoot, bouncing from one foot to the other. He looked sceptical.

Lyra pouted and shuffled onto the bed, shoving her new library book out of her way. "You'll be fine! I promise, it's really easy to find, just keep flying south until you hit the sea! You're going to see Danielle, remember the lady who dropped us off at the train station?"

He clicked his beak and widened his eyes, flapping his wings excitedly and Lyra gasped, moved.

"Aw! You remember her! You have to be very careful though, Coles is full of Muggles so please look out for the other children, they won't have seen many owls before," she told him, using his attentive listening as an opportunity to secure the envelope to his leg. She pecked him on his head, silently praying for a safe journey, and opened the window for him to leave. She should have taken him to the Owlery the second his feathers appeared but she didn't want to move him yet, she had gotten used to hearing his quiet hoots and scratches during the night, his presence was very comforting.

Apollo gave Lyra one last nip on the finger before he took off into the howling snowstorm outside. She watched him until he turned into a tiny black dot on the horizon and she sighed, thinking about her social worker who she hadn't seen in months. This was the longest they had been apart and the dull sense of anxiety was starting to return. With no Danielle around to unload on, her feelings were beginning to build up inside her.

Before she met Danielle, Lyra had a lot of trouble dealing with her emotions, she couldn't verbalise the powerful sensations inside of her and the constant abuse from the other orphans only made her feel worse, she didn't know how to deal with the negative voices in her head until Danielle gave her one-on-one counselling. It helped her tremendously, she taught Lyra how to work through her emotions using her voice and, unbeknownst to Danielle, she unleashed Lyra's inability to shut up.

Dumping all of her negative thoughts out of her mind, Lyra left her dorm and sought out her friends with her newest library book in her hands. It was a textbook about the life and times of Nicolas Flamel.

She hadn't revealed the great news that she found information on the mysterious wizard this morning to the gang yet, Apollo took up most of her attention, but since it was the last day before the Christmas holidays she had to tell them before Hermione left. It didn't take her long to find the right book, all she needed to do was ask Madam Pince for guidance.

"Good day friends!" said Lyra cheerfully, strolling over to the table in the corner of the common room where Harry and Ron were sitting playing chess. The tower was alight with festive scarlet and gold decorations, sparkling tinsel trailed around the room and the tree in the corner was magnificent, ornate with golden stars and fluttering fairies. The boys looked up at her arrival and smiled, ignoring their game for now. "I've got an early Christmas present for you!" she added.

"What is it?" asked Harry, but Ron frowned at the tome in her arms.

"Don't tell me it's a book—,"

"It's a book!" She cheered, cutting him off as she slammed the book onto the table. "I picked it out especially for you," Lyra whipped her head around, trying to spot Hermione's frizzy afro amongst the crowd of people leaving for the holidays but she couldn't see her anywhere, "where's Hermione?"

"She wanted to go and see McGonagall about the Transfiguration homework before she left, she said something about wanting extra credit?" said Ron unenthusiastically, shaking his head. "I'm worried her eagerness is going to backfire one day and we'll all have to do extra homework too."

"Don't scare me like that," said Harry, frowning at him, "we've got enough to do as it is! I don't understand how she has the time, especially with the added Flamel work. We might as well spend Christmas Day in the library."

Ron shivered, horrified. "Don't say that, Harry!"

"Ah ha!" exclaimed Lyra mysteriously, wiggling her brows, "worry no more, boys! Guess what I've done!" she sang the last word and revelled in their delighted gasps as she tapped her nails on the book's hard cover.

"You didn't?!" shouted Harry, his jaw falling open.

"No way!" cheered Ron, punching his fist in the air, "you found him?! Who is he?!"

"No spoilers! I want to wait for Hermione!" protested Lyra, scooping the book up in case they got over excited and stole it.

"We've waited long enough! Let's go and find her!" encouraged Harry, gesturing for them to follow him. They left the common room and tracked her down without much trouble, they ran into her by the staircase hall and dragged her into a nearby empty classroom, needing privacy for such an important reveal.

"I can't believe I didn't think of that!" groaned Hermione, smacking herself on the forehead, "we should have asked Madam Pince straight away! She wasn't suspicious, was she?"

"I don't think so, I tried to confuse her as much as possible beforehand so she wouldn't focus too much on why I was asking, I just told her that I wanted to research famous wizards and she seemed satisfied," assured Lyra, passing Hermione the book that contained all the intel they needed. "It was a piece of cake!"

Hermione snapped the book open to read the tale of Nicolas Flamel out loud, the group exchanged looks of wonder as she told them about how he had created the infamous Philosopher's Stone that granted the user eternal life and an endless supply of gold. It sounded like the ultimate weapon for a perfect life and it had to be what was being hidden under the trapdoor. This exceeded all of their expectations.

"Strange," mused Lyra once Hermione had finished and she tapped her chin, "Snape's already immortal and yet he's going after the Stone…?"

"Maybe he wants to be able to turn metal into gold?" suggested Harry, shrugging, "or maybe his immortal vampire life isn't enough for him?"

"Or maybe both!" added Lyra helpfully and Harry nodded in agreement, unable to help himself from playing along.

"But hiding a stone like that here at Hogwarts? That's awfully dangerous," said Hermione, grimacing. She fiddled with the binding of the book and stared at the bland front cover as though trying to search for an answer in the leather.

"I guess that's because Dumbledore is one of the strongest wizards in the world," suggested Ron, "I mean, it was really well-known that You-Know-Who was afraid of Dumbledore so it's a no brainer that other dark wizards would be scared of him as well. If I had a special rock that gave people eternal life then I'd give it to Dumbledore to protect too."

Lyra blinked and slid onto one of the desks, processing Ron's words. She never gave the concept of dark wizards much thought before, she didn't count Lord Voldemort since he was dead and terribly infamous but she didn't stop to think that there were dark wizards out in the world at that very second, searching for artefacts like the stone that would aid them on their evil conquests. Suddenly Lyra thought of her father and frantically shook her head, ditching that train of thought. Of course there are dark wizards, they're locked up in prison, just like your dad.

"Do you reckon Snape is a dark wizard?" Harry voiced his concern, tussling his hair nervously.

"Definitely!" scoffed Lyra, confident in her statement.

"We should keep an eye on him, if he tries anything then we should go to Dumbledore, especially now we know he's after the stone," suggested Hermione, coming up with a plan. They all agreed with a firm nod but Ron suddenly gasped, looking at Lyra and Harry in glee.

"I just realised! Do you know what this means?!" he exclaimed, grinning ear to ear.

"What?"

"No more hanging out in the library! We've got our Christmas break back!" he celebrated, ignoring Hermione's eye rolls.

Lyra woke up on Christmas Day to an empty dorm and sighed, snuggling down into her pillows with a faint smile. This was her first real Christmas, the first one she could actually enjoy without the threat of the other orphans making her life miserable, her first white Christmas! She couldn't believe her luck.

The tapping at the window brought her out of her cheerful daze and she squealed, enlivened at the sight of her energetic owl at the frosty glass pane. Apollo graced her with more presents than she expected and she couldn't stop smiling as she unwrapped her treasured gifts. Hermione thanked her profusely for the selection of cutesy Muggle stationary that Danielle had picked out on Lyra's behalf (Hermione appreciated the glitter gel pens more than she thought she would) and she sent Lyra an impressively thick book on wizarding popular culture and a kitschy bag full of sugar-free peppermints to nibble on as she read. Hagrid gave her a small yet detailed book on Thestrals and a letter thanking her for the painting of him and Fang as well as the signed Polaroids of Harry. She managed to convince Harry to sign his Quidditch shots but he only gave in once he found out they were for the groundskeeper, he didn't mind Hagrid owning the rare collectibles.

Danielle blessed her with more film, a bunch of fabric and paint in various colours, and an abundance of development potion that would allow her to bring her Polaroids to life. Lyra told Danielle in explicit detail all about Snape and how he seemed to hate her with a passion so she took the hint and solved her problems with help from her father. Lyra thanked Danielle with more photographs of her time at Hogwarts and even managed to smuggle her a token from the school — a stolen pewter candlestick holder engraved with the Hogwarts crest that she obtained from one of the empty study rooms.

"There are hundreds of them around the castle, no one will notice!" justified Lyra to a speechless Hermione who watched her wrap the gifts late one night.

Armed with her camera, Lyra slipped on a baggy, ugly sweater over her tartan pyjamas, clipped her hair out of her face, and whisked downstairs to greet her housemates, beaming at the prospect of their faces when they opened them. She had never given people presents before, the thrill of gift-giving put a spring in her step and she hoped it would last all day. She had an extensive snowball fight planned and she didn't want to use all of her energy up before midday.

"Merry Christmas!" chimed the five boys who were lounging on the sofa, all of them wearing matching jumpers, and Lyra gasped, genuinely stunned that Percy was still there. She expected him to have escaped at the first opportunity, he rarely stuck around to hang out with his family and Lyra knew he wasn't her biggest fan. He shot her a tight-lipped smile and a small nod, it was good enough for her.

"You're so lucky, you were two minutes away from being woken up with a bed full of snow," revealed Fred, unravelling a huge bar of rich milk chocolate and taking a bite.

"It's Christmas! I deserved a lie-in," countered Lyra as she snuggled down in front of the fire, curling her toes as she stuck them in the direction of the flames.

"But we want to give you our presents!" whined George and he slapped his twin's arm, urging him to start. "We've spent ages putting together the perfect gift for you."

"Yeah, I've never seen them work so hard on anything before," noted Ron, holding up his new knitted sweater and pulling a face, "maroon again?! Will Mum ever choose another colour?"

"But it brings out your eyes, Ronnikins," teased Fred, tussling his younger brother's hair.

"It's a shame you put all your energy into causing mischief, those products—," Percy started to tut but George threw a cushion at him, trying to shut him up.

"Shhh Perce! Don't ruin it!"

Fred and George eventually gave her a large cyan box bursting with products from Zonko's and a well-constructed letter explaining every product and how to use them. There were quills that were bewitched to scribble swear words, dungbombs, sweets that made you hiccough, vanishing ink, and a strange set of chattering teeth that seemed to giggle. She held the teeth up to examine them and arched her brow, intrigued.

"What's this?" she asked.

"That is actually our own creation, we combined two products together in an experiment, we thought you would appreciate it," they snickered and Lyra smirked, inspecting the teeth closely. Between the gaps she could see something sparkly on its tongue and she tried to pry the teeth open.

"What's—," she mumbled but the teeth jumped to life and snapped at her fingers. The second it made contact with her skin the tongue fizzled and a huge puff of dense grey smoke engulfed the group gathered in front of the fire.

"What the hell was that?! Is something on fire?!" coughed Percy, jumping to his feet to clear the smoke with his flapping arms. Luckily it disappeared after a couple of seconds and Lyra grinned at the twins, amazed with their creation.

"When the teeth bite someone they emit a cloud of smoke, they're perfect for a quick getaway," explained George with a proud grin.

"A very quick getaway, it doesn't last long but we're working on that," added Fred, nodding along with his brother. Ron was in awe and he took the teeth from Lyra, eager to examine it up close.

"That's brilliant! Can you make me one?" he wondered, and his brothers looked rather taken aback.

"It looks like you've been a good influence on our little brother, Black," said George, sending Lyra a small wink and she shrugged, feigning indifference.

"I don't think it took much work, he was just as bad as us to begin with!" she countered, gesturing as herself and Harry.

"Not as bad as you, though," piped up Harry from beside Ron, his smile indicating that he couldn't resist. Lyra smirked back and shrugged, rather smug.

"That goes without saying, I'm the worst one and I'm proud," she said decorously.

The rest of the presents that were sitting under the Christmas tree were passed out and Lyra's stomach erupted with butterflies when she realised she had more gifts, she couldn't stop herself from tearing the paper apart like a rabid animal.

Harry gave her a blank photo album as she had been complaining loudly about keeping track of her pictures and she thanked him with a high-five, quite touched that he had listened to her. Her present for him was a little unconventional. As someone who spent their whole life wearing second-hand clothes, Lyra noticed how uncomfortable he was with his ill-fitting attire so she offered to tailor them to his actual size and he couldn't have been happier by her gesture. She noticed that he held his head a little higher now and he loved the addition of a few of her thrifted patches, especially the yellow lightning bolt badge she sewed onto one of his jacket pockets.

Ron gave Lyra a selection of wizarding comics, she was immediately obsessed with The Adventures of Sebastian the Squib and his Pet Chimaera and she laughed heartily at his own reaction to the array of Muggle comics she got for him, they had unintentionally matched.

"Batman? So... is he half-man and half-bat?" questioned Ron as he flicked through the colourful pages and Harry snorted, peeking over his shoulder to read with him.

"Er, not quite," he chuckled under his breath but his eyes widened when he spotted the vibrant cover of the Spider-Man comic in his lap. "Wait! Forget about Batman, you need to read that first!"

Lyra opened her final present — a larger, softer package — and stared at the handknitted indigo jumper embellished with a large silver 'L', stunned into silence. A letter floated into her lap but she could only blink at the sweater, noticing its similarities to the ones the boys were wearing. A cramp appeared in her stomach but she tried to ignore it.

"Aw wicked!" exclaimed Ron, smiling at the speechless Lyra on the floor, "Mum made you one too!"

Unable to voice her gratitude, Lyra picked up the letter and scanned Mrs Weasley's curly handwriting, her hands trembling with anticipation.

Dear Lyra,

Merry Christmas!

I wanted to start by saying that I'm sorry I haven't written to you yet but I didn't want to overwhelm you. My boys explained that they told you about the family and I want you to know that we are so incredibly happy that you're back in our lives. Your mother was a ray of sunshine and, from what Fred and George have told me, you sound just like her. I think she would be very proud that you are following in her footsteps but I, for one, would like to politely encourage you to stay focused on your studies!

I could write about Giselle for aeons but I will try and keep this brief (we'll have plenty of time to talk when we meet), by inviting you to stay at our house over the summer. The rest of the family are dying to meet you — especially Ginny, she's so very excited to have another girl around — but I will write to your social worker to organise the fiddly details. I assume she doesn't mind owl post but I will send her a letter the Muggle way too, just to be safe.

Lots of love,

Molly

You sound just like her… Lyra's heart thumped painfully at Mrs Weasley's kind words and she immediately put her new sweater on, wanting to feel like she was a part of the family as soon as possible. She looked up at the boys and smiled, hiding her forming tears in her eyes with rapid blinks.

"What do you think?" she asked, posing in her new favourite sweater and Harry stole her camera from the floor.

"It's definitely picture-worthy, say 'Christmas'!" he exclaimed and she commended his forward thinking with her best smile.

CLICK!

Lyra spent most of her day gallivanting around Hogwarts with the twins, Ron, and Harry, playing in the snow until they collapsed in fits of laughter and they couldn't feel their fingers anymore. The Christmas feast was spectacular, the turkey was mouthwatering and she had never seen so many crispy roast potatoes in one place before, it was heavenly.

After overindulging on profiteroles and pulling every Christmas cracker on the table, the Gryffindors retired to the tower for an exhilarating game of exploding snap but Percy abandoned the game after five minutes when his eyebrows sizzled and caught fire after a particularly large explosion. The twins managed to last ten rounds before yawning themselves into exhaustion and they wished the first-years a good night as they stumbled up to bed.

Stretching out in front of the fire with her new photo album and towering pile of Polaroids, Lyra went to suggest that she, Harry and Ron sneak out to visit Hagrid when she spotted one more present shoved out of sight, hidden behind the tree's drooping evergreen branches. She shuffled closer, breathing in the fresh pine scent, and snatched it from under the tree. The second she touched the elegant wrappings a gentle shiver shot through her arm, it was soothing and warm and she knew the present was special, she could feel it in her veins. She flipped the tag over and grinned.

"Potter, you missed one," she called out, thrusting the present into the air. She was too stuffed with pastry and chocolate to move, he had to go to her.

"That wasn't there earlier," muttered Harry, sitting down on the sofa to unwrap the mysterious gift. Ron scooted over and frowned, eyeing the vague tag.

"They didn't give you much information, I wonder who it's from," he noted, but Lyra stayed very still, biting her lip as she watched Harry reveal a cloak that looked like it was made from molten silver. It moved like running water between his fingers and he ruffled it, shaking out the creases as he climbed to his feet. Ron's jaw dropped.

"Woah…"

"What is that?" mumbled Lyra, shuffling closer to the magical piece of clothing. She couldn't look away, it was too enchanting.

"I dunno but the label says it used to be my dads," said Harry quietly, smoothing the material between his fingers. In one swift move he wrapped the cloak around his shoulders and disappeared into thin air… well, almost. The fuzzy faint outline of the cloaked boy shimmered in front of her and she squealed, jumping to her feet to examine the rare magical item.

"That's an Invisibility Cloak!" gasped Ron, eyes bigger than tennis balls, and he lost focus of where Harry was, his bright blue eyes flickered around in astonishment. "I can't see you at all!"

"What?! I'm completely gone?" exclaimed the disembodied Harry, shuffling under the cloak to try and see himself.

"Well, actually I can kinda see—," Lyra went to correct Ron but the boys were too enthralled by the cloak to hear her objections. Maybe keep that to yourself for now… her subconscious snickered and she agreed, thinking of all the ways she could trick Harry.

"No way!"

"This is the best present ever!"

"We can do so many cool things now and we won't get caught!"

"Think of all the ways we could use it to trick Malfoy!"

The trio talked about their potential adventures with the cloak until the embers died in the fireplace and the boys left Lyra to her developing pictures as she was determined to get through at least a quarter of her collection before bed. She spread the pictures across the rug and hummed to herself as she picked out the photos she wanted to see come to life first, and she stifled her giggles with her sleeve when she watched the Polaroids from her birthday play out in front of her. The scene of the troll trying to attack Harry and Ron was much funnier than she remembered.

The Quidditch Polaroids were her next choice, she wanted to send copies of her first private flying lesson to Danielle but as she sorted through her action shots, she found the incriminating photograph of Snape jinxing Harry's broom. Her heart stopped and the picture felt quite heavy in her hands. She needed to develop this one straight away, maybe she could give it to Dumbledore as proof that Snape was up to something? Slipping into sleuth mode, Lyra rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

The photo seemed to take twice as long to come to life compared to the others, her bottom lip felt swollen by the time it was done and she studied the scene carefully, her nose almost brushing the film so she didn't miss anything.

Snape's sallow face stood out amongst the crowd of professors in the staff box, his eyes were trained on Harry beyond the picture's frame and he was muttering under his breath, but the man behind him stood out like a sore thumb. Professor Quirrell looked equally as focused as Snape, his twitchy eyes were transfixed on the game too, but the scene continued and the Potions Master jumped up, yelling in horror as he stamped out the sudden eruption of flames. His vigorous movements disturbed the professors around him but Lyra didn't care about Snape anymore, she was only watching Quirrell.

The tightness in her chest reappeared, squashing her lungs into her ribs and an alarming sense of panic rolled down her spine, paralysing her. Something about his eye contact didn't feel right and the dread inside of her told her she was on the right track.

He fell with Snape, the jinx broke when they both stumbled to the floor. He was staring at Harry too.

Were they working together…?

Lyra looked up from the photograph to absorb the revelation but she spotted a faint shimmer in the corner of her eye, it captivated her attention and wiped Quirrell from her mind momentarily. Harry was creeping past the sofas, hidden beneath his new cloak, and he was heading towards the portrait hole when Lyra summoned her fakest cough.

He froze.

"And where are you going, Potter?" she asked him sweetly, watching the fuzzy shimmer fidget and turn back to her. His head finally appeared, his unruly curls messed up from the cloak, and he frowned at her.

"How did you know I was there?"

Lyra blinked, rushing to come up with a lie. "Uh, you're a heavy breather," she said quickly, still staring at the cloak wrapped around his shoulders.

"Oh, that's good to know I guess," he mumbled before joining her on the floor and Lyra scooped her photographs out of his way, not wanting him to ruin her hard work. She didn't know if the potion stained clothes and she was too tired to find out.

"Where were you going?" wondered Lyra.

"Nowhere really, I was just going for a walk… to clear my head," he admitted, rather shocked that he actually said that last part out loud. She noticed the crease between his brows and his fists instinctively clenched, he was struggling with his own thoughts and Lyra couldn't stop herself from talking.

"Are you ok? Do you want to talk about it?" she prompted, nudging him slightly in the ribs with her elbow. "I'm a good listener…?"

"It's nothing," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze by flicking through her photos, "don't worry."

"There's no such thing as nothing, there's always something," said Lyra, repeating the words Danielle once said to her during one of their sessions, "even if it's the tiniest thing in the world, it still matters." She knew there was something dark plaguing him, she saw a lot of herself in him and that worried her.

Harry spoke very little about his Muggle upbringing. At first Lyra thought he was merely being shy but the closer she got to her friends, the more wary she became whenever Harry spoke about his life before Hogwarts. She thought of the posters pinned to the walls in the staff quarters at Coles, the awareness banners that explained which indications of abuse to look out for when assessing a child were forever etched onto her brain, she guessed she must have read those posters over a thousand times. Every time Harry referred to his home life, those posters flashed up before her eyes. He was underfed, he flinched whenever someone raised their voice, and every time he spoke about his aunt and uncle the light left his eyes — something wasn't right and she couldn't leave her hunch alone.

Harry absorbed her words with a slow nod, his glasses glinting in the soft glow of the candlelight, and she saw him battle with his thoughts. He didn't seem like he was ready to talk about whatever was bothering him and Lyra fought the urge to ask again. She knew not to pester people into opening up so she bit her tongue and fiddled with the hem of her sweater as a distraction, but Harry suddenly turned to her and frowned.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Lyra nodded, encouraging him to open up. "Sure, ask away!"

"Do you miss your parents?" he asked softly, no louder than a whisper, and it took Lyra completely by surprise. An invisible hand clenched around her heart and she swallowed the huge lump in her throat, struggling to find her answer to his loaded question.

"Wow," she gulped, and Harry panicked at her reaction.

"I didn't mean to say it like that, I'm so sorry—," he started to apologise, locking eyes with her to prove his regret but she shook her head, hurrying to assure him that she was perfectly fine.

"No, that's not what I meant," she blurted out, "I just didn't expect it, that's all." Harry stopped panicking and waited patiently, wondering whether she would give him an answer.

"Of course I do but… It feels weird, like I'm missing someone I've only read about in a book. How can I miss someone I've never met before?" she explained, wrinkling her freckled nose as she reconsidered her words. "Does that make sense?"

Harry's worry melted into relief and he nodded, a smile growing on his face.

"That makes total sense, I know how you feel," he agreed and his defensive walls started to crumble before her eyes, "I don't know anything about them. Growing up I wasn't allowed to ask questions, my aunt refused to talk about my mum and I don't know anyone — well, except maybe Hagrid — who knew my dad and I don't know how to bring it up. They're strangers to me but still... I miss them."

The hand around her heart loosened and Lyra pouted, empathising with his pain. "I know what you mean. I miss Mum… I don't miss my dad, though," she mumbled but her stomach plummeted, numbing her insides.

Lyra screwed her face up at her blunder and she felt Harry's intense stare on the side of her face, he was dying to ask her about her father. She wasn't sure if her friends were being polite by not asking her about Sirius but she wasn't sure, she assumed they knew about him already. The Prophet briefly mentioned her father's incarceration in their exposé article and her link to the family of dark wizards was printed for everyone to read but Lyra personally never brought her father up. Ever.

Until just then.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," muttered Harry carefully, and Lyra sniffed.

"You don't need to say sorry, it's not your fault," she mumbled, hastily wiping away tears before they formed but he shook his head.

"That doesn't matter, I'm still sorry," he said, sounding more confident than before, "and for the record, you're nothing like your dad or his side of the family."

The clown inside Lyra automatically took over, defending her while she felt vulnerable. "Did you know them well?" she joked in a thick voice and Harry snorted.

"Are you ever serious?" he jabbed back and Lyra guffawed, the corners of her lips curling.

"Oh ha ha, very funny," she drawled, finally smirking again as he groaned, giving into his chuckles at the accidental pun.

"I'll take that as a no," he mused with an exaggerated eye-roll and Lyra's protective guard faltered. Talking to Harry was easy, she didn't mind as much that she felt exposed in front of him now and she was thankful that he was confiding in her too.

"I can be serious when it counts," she admitted, "I just… don't really talk about profound things with anyone except Danielle. I've never had the opportunity to speak to other people before."

"You can speak to me," offered Harry but his face burned up as he quickly added, "Er, I mean, only if you want to."

Lyra could only nod, she didn't expect him to say that. "I want to. I think you're the only one around here who could understand what it's like growing up in an, um, intense environment," she said, side-eyeing him slightly so he didn't catch her watching for his reaction.

"Intense is one way of describing it," he said under his breath, frowning at the fireplace.

"How would you describe it?" wondered Lyra, feeling very much like Danielle in that moment. She would have been very proud of her.

"Awful? A living nightmare? The absolute worst?" He presented it as a list, scowling at the thought of his family. Lyra bit her lip and nodded.

"That sounds about right," she sighed, "I figured as much."

Harry snapped his head to hers, confused. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I've grown up in an orphanage, Harry," she reminded him, a faint smile on her lips, "I know a vulnerable child when I see one."

"I'd take living in an orphanage over living with my aunt, uncle and cousin," he told her matter-of-factly but Lyra scoffed, doubting his statement.

"Yeah right! I'd much rather live with your family than at Coles!" she replied coolly and he turned to face her straight on, a lopsided smile on his lips.

"No you don't," he laughed, "trust me."

"Oh yeah?" challenged Lyra, arching a brow, "one time, a group of the other kids locked me out of the home all night and I had to sleep in the pouring rain. The next day, I got punished for being outside. I was sick for weeks."

"At primary school, my own cousin used to tease me for having dead parents," confessed Harry casually in an attempt to one up her.

"One of the girls, Rachel," Lyra spat the name as though it tasted bitter on her tongue, "used to hold me down and cut all my hair off."

"My aunt did the exact same thing," mused Harry, chuckling at the similarity.

"They used to forget to feed me, sometimes I think it was on purpose though," she countered.

"Same. Before…" Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and persevered, "before I got my Hogwarts letter, they used to make me sleep in a cupboard under the stairs."

Biggest red flag yet! Lyra froze and blinked hard, absorbing his last confession. An owl hooted in the distant grounds, filling the thick silence between the pair on the floor and Harry grimaced, finally dropping his gaze to the floor. Even in the dim candlelight she could see his apprehensive expression and she rushed to reassure him that he hadn't made a mistake.

"Do you have an actual bedroom now?" she asked in her softest tone of voice, trying to mimic her social worker, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah, although it is full of Dudley's old toys so there isn't that much room. I did find a few old comics though, and I managed to fix his broken tv and it worked for a week until it broke again," he told her as though that made up for all of his hardships and Lyra stifled her patronising snort.

"Mhm, yeah that sounds way better," she muttered flippantly but luckily he thought her sarcasm was light-hearted.

"If we're comparing it to the tiny cupboard full of spiders then yeah, it's the best," he said with a smile and Lyra laughed.

"Touché," she sighed, running her hands through her hair habitually. "Do you at least get to go outside? Do they let you out on a leash? Or tie you to a post in the back garden so you can get some sunshine?"

Harry laughed at her dark humour and waved his hand, indicating his uncertainty. "Sometimes, I go for walks occasionally but I don't go too far, it's not worth the hassle," he said, leaning back on his hands to assume a more comfortable position. "I bet you do, you live by the beach so there's probably more to do where you are," he added as an afterthought and she heard the hints of envy in his voice.

"I'm always out, I never stay inside if I can help it. I'm usually out on my skateboard—," but Lyra trailed off with a pout when she remembered that she no longer had it. "Well, I used to be out on my skateboard…"

"Of course you skateboard," muttered Harry bitterly, grumbling to himself.

"You shouldn't be surprised, I am really cool," she teased and she rolled up one of her pyjama legs to show off a gnarly rosy pink scar across her shin, "and I've got some wicked scars to prove it."

"Do you really want to argue about who's got the cooler scar?" joked Harry, smoothing back his fringe to prove his point, and Lyra feigned offence.

"You've only got one scar though, I've got four!" she sassed back, fluttering her eyelashes and Harry perked up.

"Four?!"

"This one was from a particularly jagged rock that I crashed into," she pointed to her shin, "I got this one is from the time I slipped climbing up a cliff to escape Rachel and her mates," she shoved her sleeve up and showed Harry the faint peach line running down the back of her bicep, "and then I earned this beauty when I fell off my board after failing a trick," she tugged on her thick sock and flashed him the pink indent on her ankle. Harry nodded approvingly, impressed.

"What about the fourth?" he prompted, noticing its absence from the list.

"It's on my back," she pouted, miffed that the coolest scar of all was in a more inconspicuous place, "I didn't get it from skateboarding or bullies though, that one is more like a burn mark than an actual scar. I've had that one for as long as I can remember, the doctors said that I was burnt by a decorative piece of metal as a baby, most likely by accident since it's slightly smudged. God knows what my parents were up to that led to me getting branded…" It was by far her favourite scar, Danielle described it as looking like a pattern you would find at the end of a metal curtain pole and Lyra loved the whimsicality and mystery that surrounded it, she felt like it suited her remarkably well.

"That was possibly the last thing I was expecting to hear, but since this is you we're talking about, it makes sense" analysed Harry, looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face and she felt her face get hotter.

"Aw thanks mate."

"You know, you're so lucky that you live by the sea," said Harry brightly, switching the subject. "I've only been to the beach once in my life and it was so much nicer than where I live, everyone who lives by the beach seems so much happier."

Lyra's smile fell from her face as she thought of the violent crashing waves of the angry ocean and a relentless wave of dread suffocated her. She hadn't thought about the sea in so long, the sudden reminiscence took her breath away and Harry hurried to drop his tone once he noticed her pained expression.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No, it's just..." Lyra heaved a huge sigh and rubbed her tired eyes, hating how scared she was of deep water, "I hate the sea so much, or any kind of deep water, I'm terrified of it. The thought of the Black Lake really freaks me out too. I can't swim."

"At all?" he asked quietly, concerned for his friend. Lyra nodded glumly and scowled at her socks, her mood souring as she remembered the traumatic events of her past.

"My body freezes up every time I'm in water, it's like my legs have been told not to help me or something," she admitted, angry at herself for being a liability, "it's really annoying, I've almost drowned three times."

"What happened?" Harry instinctively blurted out, hooked on her secrets, and Lyra didn't mind his eagerness. She launched into childhood stories of her near-death experiences, including her latest drowning that resulted in her using magic, and she took her time with every little detail. She told him everything from what the weather was like on the days she almost died to the colour of Rachel's butterfly clips. Harry was the perfect listener, he gasped at the right places and he huffed in disgust whenever the other kids were mentioned, she revelled in his reactions and pushed herself to open up just a little bit more.

"—and then I remember Rachel's friends pushing me off the cliff," she concluded, reaching the end of her final tale, "I guess I landed in the sea but I don't remember anything after that, I only remember waking up in hospital with Danielle next to me. Rachel and her friends never mentioned the incident afterwards either, it's like it's been wiped from their memory. I think magic was involved somehow, Dumbledore seems to know about the incident too."

"Did Rachel ever get punished for what she did to you?" asked Harry angrily and Lyra shook her head, appreciating his fury at the situation.

"No but I've been working on my own payback, don't worry," she assured him with a pat on the hand and he nodded proudly, glancing down at their hands with a smile.

"Good, if I wasn't going to be stuck in Surrey for the summer then I'd come and help," he told her honestly. Lyra cringed at the thought of him being trapped at his aunt's house with no one to talk to and she rushed to think of a way to solve his problems.

"Maybe I could come and visit you? Danielle drives, she loves road trips and I know she would love to see you too," she said, buzzing at the prospect of doing something fun over the summer. She knew Danielle would agree to the plan the second she told her about Harry's domestic problems.

Harry was speechless. "Really?" he murmured under his breath.

"Of course! Now you're my friend, you're going to have a really hard time getting rid of me. I can be really overbearing," she warned him with an eyebrow wiggle and he accepted her challenge.

"Do your worst," he smirked, "although, at the rate I'm going I doubt I'll still be alive by the end of the year, not with the way Snape's behaving—,"

Lyra gasped and the photograph lying on the pile in front of her rushed back to the front of her mind, triggering the shrill alarm bells that sounded off in her ears. The picture! Show him the picture!

"Oh my God!" Harry jumped, startled by her shout, "Harry! I totally forgot—! I can't believe—! Just look at this!" Lyra snatched the looping Polaroid from the pile and shuffled closer to him, shoving it in his face. He took it and watched the scene closely, narrowing his eyes to absorb every detail and she waited, biting her lip nervously. Would he come to the same conclusion as her or was she simply overthinking it?

"Watch Quirrell," she prompted when he looked blankly back at her but his gasp of realisation settled the butterflies in her stomach. He saw it too.

"I always thought Professor Quirrell was a little odd," he said under his breath, more to himself than to Lyra.

"He is odd. I never told you guys but he stopped me before your first Quidditch game to talk about my essay and he was acting a bit weird," she confessed, thinking back to that chilling moment. "There was a moment where he spoke perfectly normally, no stutter at all."

All humour dropped from Harry's face and he paled slightly. "Do you think he's faking his stutter?" he whispered just in case Quirrell magically appeared behind them.

"I don't know, why fake a stutter?" snorted Lyra, more confused than terrified, "but I definitely think him and Snape are working together. Maybe he's a vampire too?"

"I don't remember seeing him at dinner, you might be right," noted Harry with a sigh, "Dumbledore needs to stop hiring vampires, this is exhausting."

"Tell me about it, I need to stock up on garlic," said Lyra with a tired head shake.

Harry took a moment to mull the revelation over in his head and his eyes landed on his new cloak that lay behind him, waiting to be used. Lyra could almost hear the cogs whirring inside his head and she watched his lips slowly stretch into a broad grin, catching onto his idea before he verbalised it.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she wondered innocently, fanning herself with the incriminating photograph.

He scooped the cloak up from the floor and nodded. "Fancy a midnight stroll?"

Lyra squealed quietly and scrambled to her feet, enraptured at the idea of using an invisibility cloak.

"Let me grab something first, I'll be right back!" she chirped, sprinting towards her dorm to fetch her last remaining gift that was hidden underneath her bed. Ignoring her shoes, Lyra rejoined him in the dark common room and they prepared to sneak out, donning the cloak together for the first time. It felt lighter than she expected, it flowed through her fingers and she tingled as it embraced the pair, hiding them from the world. The smell of Harry's fabric softener and the subtle incense of the Gryffindor tower clung to the fabric, staying with them as they began their journey.

"Is it just me or does that look like Snape?" whispered Harry, glancing down at the present in Lyra's hands and she beamed, delighted that he guessed correctly.

"I had some spare fabric left over from tailoring your clothes so I made Fluffy a little gift. Since we're tracking down Snape and Quirrell, I assumed we were heading to the third floor," she clarified and she held the misshapen handmade toy up to the moonlight that shone through the cloak's mystical material. Harry stifled his chuckle and praised her on her handiwork.

"You've captured his crooked posture perfectly," he complimented and continued to lead her through the castle, tiptoeing down the barren corridors until they reached their first destination. Luck was on their side tonight as they ran into neither Filch, Mrs Norris or Peeves and they snuck onto the third floor without any trouble.

"Honestly, they really need to put some sort of security system in place," tutted Lyra as they crept towards the forbidden wing, "this is way too easy."

"Lyra, Fluffy is the security system," he reiterated but she shook her head, refusing to believe his claim.

"But he's the cutest security alarm in the world! Dumbledore didn't think that through whatsoever, they need to put some sort of sensor in the suits of armour or swap Fluffy for a scarier animal," she countered smartly.

"You're actively making your life harder, you know that right?" checked Harry, side-eyeing her as they turned the final corner and spotted the trio of doors up ahead.

"I like a challenge," she shrugged and pulled her wand from her pyjama pocket, "Alohomora!"

The middle door's creak echoed in the corridor as it swung open and the pair dashed inside, comforted by the protection that the cloak gave them. Fluffy, disturbed by the sound of the door, yawned and lifted his humongous heads from its paws, looking around suspiciously for signs of a newcomer and the soft growls emitting from their drooling mouths ceased instantly. Harry let go of the breath he was holding and cautiously allowed Lyra to lead him forwards but he never took his eyes off the trio of heads.

Mesmerised by the dog's stature, Lyra held in her coos and gingerly slipped her arm out of the cloak with the plush toy Snape in her grip. Three pairs of eyes snapped towards the sudden appearance of the arm and the growls were back.

"Be careful," whispered Harry nervously but Lyra grabbed his arm in reassurance.

"It's fine, Hagrid told me that he has to get used to your smell before you can meet him properly so I covered Snape in my deodorant," she explained in a whisper and Harry had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing at his own joke.

"I bet that's the first time Snape's ever used deodorant," he snickered and Lyra slammed her hand over her mouth to stop her giggles.

Fluffy's snarls were growing louder and Lyra chucked the teddy towards him before backing away, giving the beast some space. Hearts racing, Harry and Lyra watched Fluffy sniff the plush toy and nibble its head, testing to see if it was poisonous. After a few minutes of silent watching they gently high-fived each other when the giant dog stretched out across the corridor with the toy in between its teeth, pleasantly distracted.

"I think he likes it," breathed Harry and Lyra danced on the spot in celebration.

"I wish I brought my camera," she pouted sadly.

"Maybe next time?" he suggested. The shot of adrenaline from Fluffy's acceptance fired up his courage and he carefully removed the cloak from them both, watching the dog for signs of danger but he didn't even notice them, the Snape teddy ensnared the dog's concentration. With the dog out of the way, however, the trapdoor that sat directly in the centre of the room was exposed and Lyra stared at the handle. There wasn't even a padlock on it.

"It's like they're asking for trouble," she said to Harry, pointing at the hatch. The corners of his mouth twitched as he folded up the cloak and she saw a gleam in his eye. She had a hunch at what he was about to say and a small part of her was dying to say yes.

"Shall we—?" began Harry but his voice died in his throat as the echoing creaks of the door filled the room again. All colour drained from their faces as they gawked at the new arrival and the fear of getting caught paralysed them to the spot. They couldn't move.

"—Severus is on our tail, we cannot afford to let him get any closer," hissed Quirrell, quaking as he backed into the room, but once the door shut he spun around and skidded to a stop, gawking at the two first years in front of him.

The dense tightness was squashing her lungs again, Lyra couldn't breathe and she struggled to maintain her professor's eye contact. He flicked his dark gaze to Harry and gasped, choking out his name as though his life depended on it.

"Potter!"

Everything happened at once.

Quirrell's scream knocked Fluffy out of his daze and he jumped to his feet, furious that there were people in his corridor. Lyra's brain rebooted and she dove at Harry, knocking him out of the dog's path as he bounded across the room towards the petrified professor. Quirrell fled from the room with a strangled yelp and slammed the door shut, but before Fluffy could recalibrate his aim, Harry frantically threw the cloak over them and pulled Lyra towards the windows, latching onto her arm in a tight grip as though he was afraid to let go.

"He wasn't stuttering!" rasped Harry, his frightful face gleaming with sweat. Lyra gulped and nodded, unable to talk. The shock of being right was too much to handle at that moment, especially with a frustrated Fluffy wandering around the room, looking for a human to eat.

"How do we get out? He knows we're in here," he whispered, but as Lyra opened her mouth to suggest that they should try the other end of the corridor, the door slowly swung open again.

"I s-swear to y-you, S-Severus," stuttered Quirrell in a low hiss, "P-Potter and B-Black are in here."

"Do you take me for a fool, Quirinus?" spat Snape, cautiously entering through the left door with his wand raised above his head. Lyra felt her heart jump into her mouth and she gawked at Harry as his jaw dropped.

"Of course it's him!" mouthed Harry, devastated at the added newcomer.

"Why on earth would Potter and Black be in here?" questioned Snape suspiciously, his eyes trained on Fluffy he had turned at the sound of their whispers but they stayed in the doorway, not daring to venture into his territory. Quirrell fidgeted and searched the room in a panic, dumbstruck.

"Th-They must have s-slipped away," he rushed to explain but Snape clearly wasn't adhering to any of his lies. From her limited perspective she caught a sliver of his pallid face and flinched at the menacing snarl that contorted his sour features. He was teetering on the edge of madness, she prayed he never looked at her like that.

"What were you doing here in the first place?" hissed Snape, not bothering to be subtle.

"I h-heard them in t-the corridors," said Quirrell as quickly as he could, "so I f-followed t-them here—,"

"Do not lie to me."

"I w-would never lie t-to you, Severus. I c-consider you one of m-my dearest friends and I b-believe that you have a v-very misconstrued view of m-me," whimpered Quirrell but his tone was deep, the stutter had an unsettling rhythm to it and it made the hairs stand up on the back of Lyra's neck. She felt Harry tremble beside her and she patted his arm, silently telling him that they were going to be ok.

"But you are not the man I used to know, you're smarter than this, Quirinus, and I think you need to think about where your loyalties lie," concluded Snape.

The cloaked pair froze once more as Snape stuck his head into the room and inspected it quickly before Fluffy pounced — he seemed satisfied that no one was there.

The door slammed shut and Lyra strained her ears for the muffled clacking of footsteps, praying to the universe that they would finally leave the third floor alone. Once her pounding heart calmed to a healthier rhythm, she peeled her fingers from Harry's arm and stared at him in bewilderment, too flustered to say anything, and he captured her thoughts in one flawless sentence.

"What the hell is going on?!"