"Uh oh," gasped Sally-Ann when laughter erupted and she nudged those sitting around the study table in the corner of the common room, "it happened again."
"Oh dear, he looks really upset this time," noted Neville, spinning in his chair to get a better look.
"I dunno, if anything he's never looked happier!" Look he's beaming!" Shamus giggled, elbowing Lyra who was trying her hardest not to laugh.
"Which one of them do you reckon it was this time?" Hermione muttered behind her hand.
"I mean, come on. That's Ginny's work for sure, when do the twins ever use glitter in their bombs?" Lyra whispered, covering her smile with a forced frown while smacking Seamus' arm, urging him to play it cool.
"It must be, you know she's officially dropped out of the Harry Potter Fan Club right?" Parvati whispered from behind her folder. "Caused quite the hassle at the last meeting since she was the club vice president."
"And you know this because…?" Dean leant forwards so Parvati could see his judgemental side-eye. Parvati ignored him and returned to her Charms exam revision despite the pink tinge in her cheeks matching her folder's rosy design.
"You guys still haven't told us why the Weasleys are mad at you? Is Ron really ok?" Lavender caught Lyra's eye, her brown eyes warm with worry.
Although Hermione squirmed in her seat at Lavender's doubt, Lyra met their fellow third years' questions with the same answer they'd been spitting out ever since the Easter holidays ended. It also gave her time to recover from the bittersweet sight of Harry storming across the common room and up to the boys dormitories looking like an Oscar statue come to life. He blinded most of the Gryffindors he came into contact with, the dazzling reflection from the glitter adhered to every inch of his hair and skin was enough to light up the tower with sunshine gold. She made a mental note not to tell Harry where Ginny got the glitter bombs from, how was she to know that they were going to fall out after her birthday and she was going to use her gift from Lyra on Harry?
"They're upset with us because they weren't included in our stupid scheme that ended with Ron getting seriously injured," Lyra affirmed the half-truth they were running with. Fred, George, Ginny, and Percy only knew that Ron was hurt enough to warrant himself a one way ticket to St Mungo's, they didn't know he was at home nor about his bite. Percy was outraged and was actively calling the trio's (mainly Lyra's) influence in Ron's life dangerous while the twins and Ginny were upset that they refused to tell them what exactly was wrong. With the news of her father's capture and second escape hitting the headlines, they correctly assumed Sirius was directly involved and they couldn't believe they were keeping all the juicy details to themselves. It was the ultimate betrayal in their eyes.
Lyra sympathised with them, she really did, but she was worried about her current stance with their mother more. They'd forgive her in time for not telling them straight away, Molly might not.
"And your stupid scheme had something to do with your dad, right?" Seamus attempted to draw more details out of her. "Come on, please tell us what happened? Don't skip on any of the details!"
Lyra felt all of their eyes on her, they were desperate to know, smacking their lips thirsting for the truth. Harry mentioned the boys were repeating the same questions every night before bed as they walked past Ron's empty albeit messy section of their dorm and were reminded of his absence all over again.
"And what if it did? Then what? What if my father did in fact brutalise my cousin so much that he's been sent to St Mungo's? Is that what you want to hear?" Lyra decided to play Seamus' bluff and batted her lashes at him. She pretended not to notice Neville's drifting attention when she brought up the hospital. "Are you happy you know now?"
"Oh my God," Parvati clasped her mouth with a shaky hand and looked to Hermione, aghast, "is that true?"
Seamus blanched. "Shit, I thought Malfoy was kidding."
"Aw mate I'm sorry," Dean winced, subtly punching his best mate's arm for going too far, "If it makes you feel any better, the Weasleys are wrong to take it out on you guys, it's not your fault."
"I mean…" Hermione finally pitched in with a difficult expression, hiding the fact that she would have rather been anywhere else than here. "That's not not what happened. Technically, in a sense, did something happen to Ron that night he broke in…? Yes."
"You don't have to tell us," Sally-Ann joined Dean's considerate wavelength while Lavender tried her best not to cry. "We won't tell anyone either, we promise."
Lyra appreciated their sad faces but she shrugged. Better her father get the blame than Remus. "That's very sweet but I feel like everyone has already connected the dots since his break-in made national news again," she said, accepting the lions' sympathies. "Like you said, Draco is talking about it to anyone who's willing to listen. I just don't want to publicly confirm it, that's all."
"Again, I thought Malfoy was joking about your dad attacking Ron, that's why I brought it up," Seamus was hasty to redeem himself but Lyra waved him off, assuring him he was in the clear. Ever since the Quidditch Final, her Slytherin cousin tried to ruin Gryffindor's long-awaited victory as Quidditch champions by spreading the rumour that Sirius was responsible for Ron's disappearance. And that she helped him escape, but that added tidbit was a mere afterthought he thought of days later, it was surprising that no one believed that part considering it was the only nugget of truth floating around the school's gossip waves.
She thought about talking to Draco privately a couple of times since Easter, to see whether Snape was telling the truth when he said Draco caught her speaking to the Dementors, but she couldn't bring his attention back to her dark complications. And a large part of her didn't want to know the answer. He can't have known, of all the people to find out… Surely not?
"What can I say? My family really loves hurting each other," Lyra grimaced to the resounding sympathetic sighs of the table.
"Do you think Ron will mind if we write to him?" asked Neville, hoping to brighten the mood, "we didn't want to bother him but I bet being stuck in a hospital is dreadfully dull. He'll want someone to talk to."
Lyra pouted and met Neville's eye with fierce admiration. Was he speaking from experience? She needed to speak to him about his parents, the compulsion to stick her nose where it wasn't wanted and pester him was wriggling inside of her like a chained dog, pawing at its collar to roam free. "Neville, that is so considerate of you. I think Ron would be over the moon if you guys contacted him."
Any attempt to make movement in their Charms revision failed once the third years huddled together to construct the perfectly interesting letter that would hopefully help cleanse Ron of his boredom as well as tempt him into answering their hard hitting questions. Tomorrow morning's exam slipped from the forefront of their minds and Lyra deemed them distracted enough for her and Hermione to sneak away. The glowing golden May evening beyond the tower was bright and beautifully warm tonight, unintentionally matching the poor boy scrubbing away to no avail at his gold glittery skin in the boys bathroom.
"Knock knock!" Lyra exclaimed, ensuring she was loud enough to reach the locked bathroom door on the other side of the dormitory, "Mr Goldfinger? Are you good?"
"It's not coming off!" His muffled cries of anger became much clearer once Lyra bravely threw the dorm door open and poked her head inside. The gushing of taps and his swearing preceded the begrudged unlocking of the door and his slow reveal, and the girls winced as Harry shuffled out, looking like a grumpy fire sprite. His robes were caked in a chunky gold glue-like substance while his sopping wet hair and face glistened brighter than the interior of a Gringotts vault. Water exacerbated the glitter gleam, Lyra couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth. "Hermione, please tell me you know how to get this stuff off of me?"
"Stay still," Hermione rolled her eyes and flicked through her Charms note cards, "I know I saw something that could help here somewhere."
"She got you good, ey?" Lyra sucked on her teeth and circled him, strangely hypnotised by the sparkles, "what happened?"
"Ginny bombarded me outside of Flitwick's office," he explained, frustrated with the growing headache from the constant blinding gleam bouncing through his glasses lens. He gave up and took them off. "That's the first time she's ever spoken to me one on one and she nearly tore my head off, it was kind of scary. I think it's safe to say that I don't think she likes me anymore."
"Aw," Lyra pouted, strangely endeared by the mental image. "Go Ginny!"
"No, not go Ginny! I'm gold!" Harry protested, pointing at himself. "Go Harry for not retaliating!"
"Here it is, a Dissolving Charm should help somewhat," Hermione cut in between the pair and pushed Harry a decent distance away, her wand poised. "Liquevasio!"
Fortunately for Harry it worked wonderfully, the gold substance melted from him like he'd been doused in white spirit, but unfortunately for the dormitory the glitter was free to cling to anything and everything else. It couldn't be vanished but Lyra pretended she didn't know that, she exaggerated her cleaning attempts with many huffs and puffs of confusion.
"We'll clean later, we should really get going," Hermione checked her watch and tutted, treading carefully as to not smear glitter everywhere, "the sun is due to set in an hour and ten minutes, I want to be able to speak to him before it happens first."
"Do you reckon there's a chance we can speak to Molly and beg her to tell them?" Harry said hopefully. He checked the state of his hair in the mirror and frowned, unimpressed by the soft dusting of gold that wouldn't leave his aura, but Lyra held in her comments as he was already on his final straw. She could tell Harry was missing Ron the most out of them all, he didn't want to hurt the Weasleys anymore than she did.
"I still don't think that's a good idea," Lyra let him down gently with a cautious shoulder rub, hoping to ease his stress, "tonight is Ron's first official transformation, she's going to be feeling a lot of pressure already so we shouldn't add to it. You know what these Prewett women are like."
"Don't you mean Weasley?" Hermione corrected but Lyra sadly shook her head.
"Nah, I think the fierceness comes from the Prewett side. We store in our freckles," she sighed, patting her cheeks.
"That I can believe," said Harry. He gave up with his golden reflection and began to hunt for a clean set of clothes. "Let's get a move on, I'll meet you by Sir Cadogan's painting. And remember—,"
"—If anyone asks, we're going to see Hagrid. Don't forget to grab your cloak!" Lyra cut him off and followed Hermione out without hesitating, giving Harry the privacy he needed to discover the true extent of Ginny's prank. She wasn't sure Hermione's spell counteracted the delayed reaction of the victim's bedazzled genitals and she didn't want to stick around to find out.
Her face scorched and she choked back her giggle, viciously shaking her head. NO! Don't think about that! Don't think about it, Lyra! Stop it, stop thinking about his shiny, golden—!
Lyra scrubbed the forbidden dirt from her mind before it could take root and kept her head down as she got dressed for this evening's secret adventure. It had been exactly a month since the fateful bite and the full moon was due to rise tonight. Despite Ron's letters insisting that he was fine being by himself the first time he had to undergo a completed transformation into a werewolf, the trio stuck at Hogwarts decided they had to be there for him. They couldn't let him go through this harrowing first time alone, so they devised a plan to make it as cheerful and painless as possible for him.
"Now, which chew toy do I bring?" Lyra hummed to herself as she perused the selection she panic-bought the previous night. She offered the exhausted delivery owl, a dainty white Pygmy, a sip of her cold tea from her bedside and patted its head for the amazing job it had done. The package was five times its size. "Be honest, am I going too far with the squeaky barbecue rib toy?"
"Yes, but that one is perfect," Hermione paused mid hair braid to point at the brown rat toy lying belly side up amongst the pile on her bed.
Lyra applauded her choice and shoved the plush rat into her backpack with unnecessary force. Since it was a humid evening, she decided to bravely show off her bruised legs with a pair of shorts but was quick to add a random flannel shirt and long socks to cover most of the damage. She tamed her overgrown fringe as much as she could under Hermione's harsh time restraints and held back most of her curls back with her bandanna. Was this appropriate for her first time hanging out with a werewolf? She guessed she was going to find out.
Hermione nodded smartly at her laced boots and matched her footwear, conscious of their potential surroundings. "We will be completely safe, he'll have taken the potion by the time we get there. Why am I still so nervous?"
"Because he's going to shout at you for trying to sacrifice yourself," Lyra called her out and slipped on a pair of sunglasses, signalling she was ready to depart.
"I really hope he doesn't remember that so please don't bring it up," Hermione whined, cupping her forehead in shame before buttoning up her denim jacket. "I know it was stupid but I had to try something, you told me to listen to my heart and so I did."
"And you wonder why you were sorted in Gryffindor and not Ravenclaw," Lyra teased, hooking her arm through hers and taking the lead. Hermione blushed herself into silence and tightened her grip, deciding not to answer.
After announcing their fake plans for the evening to everyone they passed, Lyra and Hermione strolled out of the tower and found Harry waiting a corridor away, occasionally brushing his fingers through his messy hair and unintentionally sprinkling more gold dust onto his fresh black hoodie and jeans. Their path out into the grounds remained mostly empty, Lyra instinctively waved at her fellow school councillor Beatrice who shouted her name from amongst her gaggle of Hufflepuff friends hanging out in an outside courtyard, but no one else interrupted their mission. The grounds were much more peaceful now summertime was on the horizon, fireflies buzzed through the long grass and birds cooed softly from the gently swaying trees.
"From what I could tell from Ron's letters, he'll be locked in the barn. We should aim to apparate in through the orchard," Hermione relayed once they found their purchase amongst the camouflaging trees by the Owlery. Lyra perched on the flattest boulder and glanced up at the tower, admiring the flock of loud owls circling the roof. Did she have time to spare to visit Apollo? Probably not.
"Let's put this on before we go," Harry instructed the girls to flank him as he shook his invisibility cloak out, giving it time to extend.
"Kreacher!" Lyra called, rolling her neck to prepare for her elf's appearance. She sent off her request to reinstate Sirius back into the family officially a few nights ago and wasn't sure whether the pair had crossed paths yet. She had a feeling her father wasn't open to using their house elf despite being on the run from the Ministry but who knew what trouble he'd gotten himself into since they last met. He still hadn't written to her yet and she was gasping at the chance to hear from him.
Pop!
"Kreacher is glad to see you, Mistress," he greeted the trio with his usual bow, his tongue smacking in surprise at the stunning sunset illuminating the mountains and his ears flapping in the warm breeze, "Lyra is out in the grounds again."
"Keen eye you've got there, bud. It's good to see you too," Lyra smiled as she bent down and swung an arm over his shoulders, "listen, I need you to take us to the Burrow, to see Ron."
"Your Weasley is not at school?" Kreacher croaked, scratching his chin, "is that what the twins meant when they asked Kreacher to tell them what Mistress was doing in the forest that night?"
Ugh, damn. "Yes," Lyra facepalmed, "you didn't tell them anything about that, right?"
"Of course not, Kreacher does not have to obey them like he does Mistress Lyra," he assured her though his face suggested he would like to know more. "Though Kreacher is eager to find out what his mistress has been up to recently."
"Yes, I swear it buddy I'll tell you very soon. I'll call for a family meeting and explain everything," she promised him, hating how guilty she felt for keeping him in the dark. "But for now, please sneak us to the Burrow and make sure we aren't seen."
Kreacher secured his hands around theirs and accepted Harry's shield offer as he draped the cloak around all four of them. Lyra braced against the extra pressure popping her eardrums as Kreacher broke through the headmaster's wards and teleported them to Devon easier than blinking his wrinkled lids.
POP!
"Have you told Professor Dumbledore about this little loophole yet?" asked Hermione once they touched down in the familiar shade of the Weasley's orchard. The waft of apple blossom and smoke from a distant wood burner heightened the sensation of summer, the orange sun was higher here than in Scotland as evening was slow to set, they still had time.
"Nope," Lyra popped her lips and smirked, thanking her house elf with a quick hug before he disappeared, "and I'm not planning on telling him either, I quite like the idea of being able to escape at a moment's notice."
"You can't deny that it's bloody handy," Harry agreed, staring longingly at the Weasleys' homemade Quidditch hoops poking from above the apple trees.
"Obviously but what if someone tries to break into Hogwarts using a small army of house elves?" Hermione hinted, not wanting to bring the tone down but her nerves were getting the better of her. She fidgeted and poked her friends into file. "Actually it doesn't matter, I can berate you about it at another time."
"Yippee," Lyra muttered to Harry, rolling her eyes.
Having grown accustomed to moving underneath the invisibility cloak, the tiny trek up to the Burrow took no time at all. They weaved through the trees and followed the garden fence until they found the Weasleys' old barn, a faded red structure that reminded her of the cow houses on the farm next to Coles. Arthur's garage was the closest to the barn, the actual house was at least a good hundred feet away so they didn't need to worry about catching anyone's attention, but as they hopped the fence and clung to the back barn wall they noticed the faint glow coming from the garage side windows. Lyra pressed a finger to her lips and pointed toward the voices carrying over the roofs.
"Now are you one hundred percent sure you don't want me or your mother here? You might spook yourself and need us—," They distinguished Arthur's voice first and Lyra's stomach whined.
"Dad! I'll be fine, I swear," Ron's voice was the loudest. At the mere sound of it the trio held each other and revered his stubborn tones. Lyra held Hermione back by the shoulders as she was on the verge of rushing off to him.
"We've got him, Dad, honest," said Charlie, hoarse but jaunty. "Go and put Celestina on the wireless, pour Mum and yourself a large glass of wine, and chill out. You've done enough this past month, you need to unwind."
"And while you're at it, maybe send a couple of tins down here for Charles and I," requested Bill, "it's a nice night out, we might as well enjoy the weather while we can."
"Can't I have a tin too?" asked Ron. The crackling of wood filled the air song with a strong scent of smoke, were they having a small bonfire? "Out of all of us here, I think I deserve one the most."
"Can't, the sugar in the cider will spoil the Wolfsbane," sighed Charlie, "sorry bro."
"Aw what?!"
"I'll see what I can rustle up for you, just don't tell your mum I gave you the cider. And yes, listen to your brother. Don't drink any of it," Arthur settled them down and the garage flickered into darkness. "Remember to lock the garage once you're done, there's spare blankets and pillows at the back—,"
"We are very aware of where everything is , we grew up here, remember?" Charlie quipped, "we've got everything under control. Please, let us have our boys' night."
"Ok, boys. Ron, I love you very much," Lyra silenced her awws and grinned as she listened to Ron groan while his father attempted to kiss him, entertaining his older brothers to no end.
"N'aww you're still the baby of the family, come here Ronnie," Bill joined in, winding Ron up further by the growing volume of his protests.
"Get off me, weirdo!"
"No! You used to love my tackle hugs! Why don't you want to hug your favourite brother anymore?"
"He's a big scary werewolf now, he's too cool for us Bill, leave him," sniffed Charlie.
Once they were sure that Arthur had left the three Weasley brothers to settle in for the night ahead, Lyra, Harry, and Hermione approached the scene as cautiously as their shaky legs would allow. They shuffled around the barn and checked the coast — all clear.
The barn doors were wide open, its inside illuminated by old mismatched bulbs and littered with junk that had overflowed from Arthur's garage. Just outside of the doors, a small fire blazed in the centre of Bill, Charlie, and Ron's ring of garden loungers, children's beanbags, and patched pouffes where they were lying and staring up at the purple streaks forming in the deep pink sky. Judging by their layout, they were camping out the night together and Lyra couldn't help but adore her cousins even more.
Her heart spasmed and she grabbed ahold of Hermione's arm, overjoyed at how well Ron looked. He bore no visible scars and he was able to move his torso without too much pain flashing on his freckled face. He was sitting across the fire from them, a tartan blanket draped across his legs and hot water bottle pressed into his ribs, no sign of any bandages. Good.
Lyra couldn't wait any longer and she poked her head from beneath the cloak, smirking. "Got room for three more campers?"
"MERLIN!"
"Ow!" Bill crashed backwards in his lounger and sprawled across the dusty ground to the chorus of his brothers cackling. Charlie clutched his chest as he began a violent coughing fit, but Ron was frozen solid to his lounger, gawking at his three best friends in utter disbelief.
"What are you—?"
"Did you really think we were going to let you go through this alone?" Hermione made a beeline for him, unable to hold back any of the questions she'd been obsessing over. She weaved through the Weasleys and gave him no warning before she leapt on him. "How are your ribs? Is the skin around it grey? I read that it may be a side effect of the powdered silver, it bubbled upon contact. Have you been sleeping well? What about your diet? Have you—?"
"Dear me, she's worse than Mum," Charlie winced, rushing over to greet the new arrivals with his famous bear hug. Thankfully the older Weasleys were ecstatic to have them gatecrashing their camp out. "Welcome, welcome. We have snacks, we have cider, we have a ton of questions to ask you about the man who's been living in our house for twelve years — please, make yourself at home."
Bill froze mid-handshake with Harry and excused himself to throw up behind Arthur's garage, startling Harry.
"Do I smell? Has Ginny's stupid bomb cursed me?" he spat.
"No," Charlie pouted after his delicate stomached brother, "he vomits most times we bring Pettigrew up, I wouldn't worry about it. But what was that about Ginny's bombs? Is she bothering you with love bombs, I can have a word with her if you need me to?"
"The rest of your siblings hate us at the moment, it's no biggie but we'd appreciate it if you could tell Molly to hurry up and break the news," Lyra shrugged off his offer on Harry's behalf and waited for her turn with Ron. Hermione was reluctant to draw away from their hug despite Ron's burning red face, he couldn't seem to pull her off him. "So, how's wolf life treating you?"
"It's better than being dead so I can't complain," Ron smiled, happily wincing as she and Harry pounced at him when Hermione eventually stepped away to wipe her tears. "Careful, I'm still working with one lung here."
"Remus got you good, then?" Harry wondered, eyeing his torso in curiosity.
"Wanna see it?" Ron offered, elated with the chance to gross them out. "It's pretty disgusting."
"Obviously," Harry gestured at him to get a move on and the trio moaned in unison when he lifted his sweater and proudly displayed the purple and grey crescent marks circling his rib cage. The bruised skin was pellucid yellow and brown around the teeth scars, and Hermione oohed, pointing out the broken black veins beneath them.
"That's a good sign! It means the veins struck by Remus' saliva died upon contact, the spread was minimal," she informed them.
"We're incredibly lucky that Snape was there with you," Bill shuddered, chasing the acidic rush of bile with a crisp cold swig of cider as he rejoined them, a bright blue checkered cooler swinging on his arm. "Who knows the state you might've been left in."
"Must we bring him up?" Lyra snapped, snatching the largest bean bag near Charlie and snuggling down to commence their long fireside chat. She had been dying to discuss everything with other people who knew. "What do you guys know?"
"We know that Sirius is innocent," Bill murmured, wary of any eavesdroppers, and reached into the cooler. "Don't tell anyone we gave you this but that news is for sure cause for celebration, you must be so relieved."
He passed out more cider cans to Ron's dismay, and Lyra happily clicked her popped can against theirs. It was deliciously sweet, like tart apples and raspberries. "I'll drink to that!"
"Am I really the only one not allowed to drink? That's not fair," Ron pointed out as Hermione decided to destress and accepted the can from Bill, but his ears sizzled and he muttered his thanks when Charlie dove into his battered duffel bag by his feet and revealed half a bottle of some kind of white spirit. The label used a different alphabet but Lyra knew by the half naked mermaid logo it was something devious.
"You're having one shot and that's it," he told his little brother as he poured him his first ever shot. "Be very careful not to inhale any of it, it'll put hair on your chest for sure."
"I don't think that's the only place on his body that'll be sprouting hair tonight," Bill chuckled, proudly watching his younger brothers gulp down the strong spirit. Lyra eyed the bottle greedily when Ron gasped and oohed, impressed by its smoothness.
"Back to what we were saying, we also know that Pettigrew," Charlie side-eyed Bill who scowled his way, smoothing his long hair behind his ears just in case, "has been Scabbers this whole time. I honestly don't know how we're going to break the news to Percy."
"With more shots of that, I reckon," Lyra suggested, nodding at Charlie's stash and he stroked the bottle of spirit lovingly.
"Not a bad thought, Black. He might finally be willing to share a drink with us once he realises he's been sharing a room with a strange man for most of his life."
"Therapy is also an option," Hermione suggested.
"Mum's already been looking for one, said she got the idea from you," Ron furiously locked eyes with Lyra and her heart soared. Molly couldn't have been too mad at her if she's keeping her in her thoughts. "Thanks a lot."
"You're so welcome. I mean, just think of all the embarrassing things you've all done in front of—," Lyra paused, catching Bill's shameful gaze, and cottoned on to why he couldn't stomach the thought of Scabbers being Peter. "Oh… You didn't think to cover his cage with a towel first?"
"Lyra!" Bill scolded her, alarmed by her overt albeit correct assumption.
"How did everyone else take the news?" Harry helpfully asked to move the subject away from Lyra's deprived mind and save the Weasley boys from further humiliation.
"As you can imagine, Mum took the news the hardest," Ron grumbled, shifting slightly so he could rest in his arm without affecting his injury. "Dad was speechless for a couple of days, he barely said a word other than 'wow' and 'ah', but eventually they both lightened up when I healed and they came around to the idea of me still attending Hogwarts. The others still aren't talking to you?"
"Worse, they're using us as prank targets," Lyra revealed, glancing at Harry who instinctively crossed his legs and glared at the fire. "But they called for a ceasefire for the Quidditch Final so we wouldn't screw up Oliver's last match."
"Crikey, it's Woods last year already? Man, I got old quick," Bill wheezed.
"You've played the Final already?!" Ron jumped up and immediately regretted it when he tugged at his rib cage. Despite his pain he waited on Lyra and Harry's every breath with a broad smile. "You didn't tell me! Who won?!"
"We did," Harry dug into his hoodie pocket, pulled out the dormant winning Snitch, and tossed it to his best mate. "Malfoy couldn't keep his jaw off the ground by the time I was done with him. You would have loved it."
Lyra opened her mouth to point out the blue material begging to be highlighted but at Hermione's light arm nudge and smirk she decided not to ruin the boys' celebration.
"About bloody time! It's been a ballache listening to Fred and George moan about not being an official Hogwarts Quidditch champion, it's so hard being the only Quidditch star in the family," Charlie thrusted his can into the air once again and beamed at Lyra, his warm eyes twinkling. "I would say you two would know what that feels like but your parents played professional Quidditch."
"I reckon I've got my old Wimborne Wasps annual somewhere in my old room, I'll dig it out for you," Bill promised, adding to Lyra and Harry's curiosity. "I think Giselle got your dad to sign it too, Harry. I will make you guys some copies."
"Please! I didn't know they were in a book," Lyra gasped, anticipating her and Sirius' next meeting. There was still so much about her parents she didn't know and she was ravenous for their entire life story.
"James is technically in at least a dozen history books," Hermione reminded them, though they looked less than impressed.
"Yeah but this is a Quidditch book, that's way cooler. Lots of people write useless history books all the time," Ron backed them up.
"I dunno if I'd call Harry defeating You-Know-Who useless," Bill called his brother out, but Harry raced to Ron's defense.
"True but I think my dad would be much prouder to have his name and face in a Quidditch annual than a book describing his death," he said casually, and Lyra cackled at the awkward sting that settled afterwards. He had a point! She certainly would if she were James.
The last of the dying evening glow disappeared over the horizon and the stars began to blink their way into the skies indigo streaks. Lyra noticed Ron's seat shuffling grew more frequent as the bonfire became their main source of light, he was watching for the first sign of the moon's milky glow and those lounging around the fire began to quieten down when the tension became unnaturally palpable.
"How are you feeling?" Charlie snuck a cigarette from the wrinkled pack in his bag and flicked his thumb across one of his gnarled silver rings, igniting its tip. "You've got roughly a quarter of an hour until showtime."
"I feel knackered," Ron complained, rubbing his eyes. The darkness had enhanced the dark bags under his eyes and around his neck, he was paling by the second. "No wonder Remus was drinking coffee all the time, I might have to pick up a caffeine addiction."
"There certainly are worse habits to have," Bill tutted at Charlie's pungent smoke around the teenagers and climbed to his feet, brushing down his wrinkled shirt and worse for wear black trousers. With the excessive piercings he looked quite like a street artist Lyra would see at the beach, especially when he pinned his locks back with his wand. "Right, I'm going to make sure our parents aren't planning on sneaking down here tonight. I take it you three are staying all night?"
"Only if you don't mind us crashing," answered Harry, shifting his chair closer to Ron's for moral support as he had started to massage his temples. "We'll be back at school tomorrow morning."
"Your secret is safe with us," Charlie assured them with a wink, accidentally flashing them the border of yet another tattoo peeking from under his shirt as he stretched. "I figured you were putting your house elf to good use, Ly."
"Well you know me Charlie," Lyra relaxed further into her beanbag and flashed him a feline smile, "us Blacks love a dramatic disappearing act, it had to be done."
"I'll go and ward off the parents, you go and make sure the boundary is secure," Bill ordered his brother around and marched off into the night.
"Back in five minutes — Black, paws off my vodka," Charlie patted Ron's head as he passed him and began a light jog around the perimeter. The second he vanished into the distance, distinguishable only by the red tip of his rolled cigarette, the remaining quartet sat in the awkward silence that sprouted for all of two seconds.
"I can't believe you tried to jump in front of me when Remus attacked!" Ron turned to Hermione, using his last burst of energy for the burning question that had been on his mind since the moment he woke up in his own bedroom, in shock from the infection spreading through him and all alone. "What the fuck were you thinking?!"
"I can't believe you think I wouldn't try and do anything to stop this from happening to you!" Hermione argued, clutching at straws, "you can't be mad at me for that!"
"I'm bloody irate and that doesn't mean that I don't think it was possibly the kindest, bravest thing anyone has ever done for me!" He snapped, ignoring the pair playing as their enamoured audience, hooked on every beat, "I'm mad at you because I can't believe you think I'm worth being bitten for. You! Hermione Granger! You've got the brightest future out of all of us, you're destined for something far greater than this awful disease and I will happily live with it if it means you don't have to. You've got enough on your plate as it is," he reached over and grabbed her scarred palm, brushing his rough thumb against it. "I couldn't be more furious or more honoured that you tried to save me. Seriously, thank you and please don't do something like that ever again!"
Lyra grinned at her cousin's soppy speech as well as Hermione's astonished reaction. Her golden cheeks were flushed red but that might have been from the almost empty can of cider nearly tipping onto the dirt from her slack grip. She didn't know what to say and it was the most adorable sight Lyra had ever seen. If she wasn't mistaken, she recognised the familiar infatuated gleam in Hermione's wide chocolate eyes that she'd caught in her reflection before. Was her stomach coiling on itself? Was she having trouble sitting still? Did she feel like she was going to pass out? Was she harbouring a secret crush…?
Very, very interesting!
"That was beautiful, mate," Harry appreciated the sight of Hermione's whiplashed grin.
"Well I did promise the girls I'd sacrifice myself, you know how it is," Ron puffed his chest a little, winking at him.
"Who would've thought when we were on the train all those months ago we'd be sitting here waiting for your first period," Lyra mused, giggling at Ron's pointed glower as he clutched his hot water bottle tighter. His knuckles were stark white. They needed to take his mind off the peculiar wriggling pervading his worn body, her jokes were necessary.
"Definitely not me," he sighed, reflecting on his third year. "I think this has, officially, been the worst year of my life. First I find out my pet rat was the guy who betrayed your parents, and now I'm a fucking werewolf…"
Lyra shuffled closer to the fire and hugged her knees, empathising with his heavy feeling of defeat. "Last year was the worst for me, sorry for passing the torch to you," she consoled.
"It's fine," Ron lamented, looking anything but, "only if it means that next year will be better."
"Good luck guys, one of you is about to experience the worst years of your life," Lyra lifted her cider can in Harry and Hermione's direction, and only Harry mirrored her gesture with a hopeful snort of laughter.
"I'd like to see the universe try!"
"Let's not speak that into fruition," Hermione said nervously, cautious of the indigo universe looking down upon the four Gryffindors keeping warm by the fire. "What about our first year? That could potentially have been a bad year in this sequence."
"Nah, that was the best year of my life," Harry took the words from Lyra's open mouth and she nodded in agreement, catching his eye across the flames.
"Mine too," Hermione agreed.
"And me, wouldn't have changed any of it if it meant I would end up here with you guys," Ron muttered, his watering eyes closed as he concentrated on remaining as human as possible. Lyra wished they could have enjoyed one more moment back together as a unit but time was fleeting and Ron's human form was caving to the lycanthropic adrenaline spiking in his blood fast.
It was the faint flash of the gold dust on Harry's shoulder that reminded her of the glitter bomb's crowning jewel and she spent their last seconds of peace together wisely.
"Do you know what might make this year a little bit better, Ron?" Lyra perked up and she enjoyed her friends' undivided attention with another dimpled smirk.
"What?"
Harry spotted her dimples first and lost his smile fast.
"At least you're not sat here with a glittery gold penis—,"
"BLACK!" Harry launched out of his flowery lounge chair and lunged after Lyra, torn between poker hot humiliation and enlightenment. "You gave Ginny the bombs, didn't you?!"
"I'm sorry!" She cackled, tripping over herself as she ran from his murderous tackle, "I never thought she'd use it on you!"
"You're right! That does make my year a bit better!" Ron choked through his roars of laughter, half-tempted to drag Harry away so he could see it for himself, but he seized up and doubled over. Hermione froze and reached for his arm, but he was already gone. Just like that.
Lyra spotted the glimmer of moonlight in the corner of her eye and her blood ran cold as she heard Bill and Charlie's footsteps coming from behind. They dropped their games at once and rushed toward Ron as he began to convulse, and together the five of them dragged him into the safety of the barn and waited as one as the full moon began its painstaking ascent into the starry May skies.