BANG!
"Jesus!"
Lyra clutched her chest as the notorious Knight Bus appeared in front of her outside of Andy and Ted's house, its brake grinding deafeningly as it rolled to a stop. "This bus is magical, why does it have to be so loud and scary?"
"Has the bus ever run someone over? Since it appears out of nowhere when you call it, there must've been some accidents before," Harry wondered, glancing up at Tonks behind them, and she pursed her painted lips in thought.
"I bet there has been, I can't recall any famous incidents off the top of my head, although I heard a rumour once about this curvy witch who summoned the bus after a night out and when it arrived it swiped her boobs clean off—,"
Andromeda rushed to cut off their morbid conversation out of humility as the bus' doors folded open and the young conductor hopped out to help with their luggage.
"Dora! Behave!" She hissed before switching her tone and gracing the conductor with a smile, hoping he didn't hear her. "Good morning!"
"Morning! Where to?" He chirped, groaning slightly as he struggled to load the two heavy school trunks on the bus, but as he turned to acknowledge the younger passengers he froze, eyes wide in familiarity as they landed on Harry.
"I thought that was you! Hiya Neville!"
Harry looked like he wanted to die.
"Aw! Your fake name is Neville!" Lyra cooed, jabbing Harry in the ribs, "I'm so telling Neville about this. What happened to Larry?"
"I panicked, besides I'm not a Larry," he sighed, "you need to come up with a better alias for me, I'm rubbish at it."
"Alias? Your name's not Neville, then? Who are you?" The conductor caught the end of their conversation after handing Ted their bus tickets, and Tonks let slip a tiny giggle as she tried to squeeze past them without knocking Apollo's cage out of her arms.
"Him? Neville? C'mon Stan, you really don't know who that is?" She smirked, but upon boarding the bus Tonks' cool attitude vanished in a blink as she tripped over her own feet and almost squashed Apollo in the process.
"No? Who is—?"
But Stan's gaze flickered to Lyra, and his already ballooning eyes grew as though someone had charmed his eyelids to adhere to his brows. Lyra suddenly realised that her picture had been featured in The DailyProphetmore recently than Harry's, and the dread of hearing her father's name swelled her already tight chest. She woke up this morning feeling more anxious than usual, like the air pressure was turned up too high, and this added tension wasn't helping her to act any more casual.
"You're his daughter, ain't ya?" Stan said quietly, peering over his shoulders as though Sirius could hear him, "You're Lyra?"
"Sorry, no. Easy mistake to make though, you see, Lyra has long hair and mine is short," Lyra denied with a nervous laugh, but the dots were already connecting in his head and he switched back to Harry, gawking and stuttering from the mere honour of being in his presence. Harry immediately ducked, wary of any passengers catching wind through the open windows.
"You're Harry—!"
"Ey!"
A sharp whistle followed the disgruntled shout from the hunched, elderly bus driver, and he gestured at his scrawny conductor to hurry up. Lyra and Harry hopped onto the bus after Stan, and thankfully the pair grabbed the nearest bar before they were launched onto the floor as the bus blasted off towards its next destination.
Getting rid of the eager conductor Stan was a rough task and Lyra quickly worked out why Harry used an alias the first time. Stan chatted more crap than she did and that was really saying something. He didn't seem to clock onto the fact that maybe Lyra didn't want to talk about her lunatic father and burst into an endless spiel about all the passengers that had supposedly spotted Sirius as he escorted them to their seats. Lyra tried multiple times to interrupt him with a chorus of fake coughs, but Stan only offered her a cough drop and carried on.
The Tonkses were waiting for them on the middle floor near the back, the only seats furthest away from any other passengers. Lyra noticed a group of young wizards eyeballing her from the top floor as she climbed the stairs, but she refused to cower away and met their stares with a bitchy pout instead. They quickly backed away from the railings but Lyra knew it wouldn't last, this was her new normal.
Deja-vu was rampant today, she felt just like Jane again mirroring her first-ever journey into the wizarding world.
"Thank you, Stan, that'll be all," Andromeda thanked the conductor, hiding her pointed tone that encouraged him to leave them alone with a kind smile.
She was sitting next to Ted in a pair of lacy, cream armchairs, while Tonks draped herself over the elegant electric purple chaise lounge that almost matched her leather coat. Lyra and Harry took the animal print loveseat that hid their faces from whoever came up the stairs opposite Tonks, and Lyra distracted herself from Stan's presence by tending to the owls locked in their cages.
"Stay safe out there, won't cha? You dunno who could be lurking out there in London. A big city that one, lotsa shadows to hide in," warned Stan with a shudder, and he removed his hat to reveal a mop of greasy mousy hair and he directed a small bow towards Harry. He tried not to cringe too viscerally.
"Don't worry about him, he's just being dramatic," Tonks scoffed once Stan returned to his duties, reaching over to nudge Lyra, "he's always been like that, he didn't shut up the first time I saw him after the news broke."
"I can see why you used a fake name, Harry, I think he's a big fan," noted Ted, resting his arms on his stomach looking amused, "he's watching you through the stairs."
Lyra's entrepreneurial senses tingled as she tried to forget about her own predicament and sneaked a glance back. Through the gaps in the metal stairs, she spotted Stan's gleaming eyes watching the embarrassed boy next to her, and she could almost hear the sounds of coins falling into her lap.
If she was going to be spending the night at the Leaky Cauldron, the vastly popular wizard inn that received possibly a thousand magical visitors a day, where hundreds upon hundreds of eyes will be guaranteed to be following her and Harry around, then she might as well make the most of the attention.
She had taken some great updated pictures of Harry over the summer. He willingly signed these ones since he agreed he looked good, and it would certainly distract the masses from dwelling on her story. Her impish smirk returned and Harry groaned at the sight of her dimples having read her face within a matter of seconds.
"Tonks…? May I trouble you for a few duplicating spells?" Lyra purred persuasively, sliding Harry's new autographs from her backpack and batting her eyelashes for extra cuteness.
"Awh! Only if I can have one for free! And it has to be personalised too," Tonks demanded as the Polaroid doubled, then tripled in her hands, the stack growing taller with every wand tap. Lyra happily passed Harry her glittery emerald ink marker.
"A pleasure doing business with you, Madame." And she shook her cousin's hand.
The journey to London was short and snappy, they only stopped twice before they jetted into the country's capital and unloaded in an empty alleyway beside the Leaky Cauldron along with most of the passengers.
Lyra spotted the signed Polaroid in Stan's pocket as they hopped off ("Thanks again! Been meaning to get one for ages! Mum's gonna love it!" He shouted as he waved at Lyra from the doors) and her hopes rose when she noticed a Muggle corner shop on the adjoining road. Sneaking off to find an ice-cold can of Dr Pepper became an integral part of her routine to stay sane, she was excited to potentially continue her finely-tuned coping mechanism tonight under her family's noses.
"Let's go and check in first, and then we'll start your back-to-school shop and hopefully Molly and Arthur and the Grangers will have joined us by then," announced Andromeda, whipping out a pair of bright blue spectacles so she could read her list. She never left the house without one.
"Do you both still have your school letters?"
"Nope," chirped Lyra.
"Yes," Harry answered, rolling his eyes as he pulled out his and Lyra's equipment lists from his pocket.
"Good, thank you, Harry," Andromeda tutted at her niece's innocent smirk, and Ted let out a low whistle as he scanned them.
"You're taking Divination? Good luck, son," he laughed, "I was utter rubbish at it."
"Is it hard?"
"It's not so bad, around fifth year is when it gets interesting, I'm sure you'll do great," Tonks shrugged, stealing Lyra's list, "did you cross out your Herbology book on purpose?"
"Yup! I'm dropping it this year, I don't need the books," Lyra said adamantly as they headed towards the pub entrance.
That wasn't exactly true, Lyra was yet to receive a reply from her head of house concerning her enquiry to ditch the core subject in favour of Divination, but she still had hope. Classes started in three days' time, anything could happen between now and then!
"I'll buy two copies of our Herbology books just in case," Harry noted and Andromeda agreed, marking Harry's book list with a small number two.
The pub's door swung open and Lyra was met by the usual wall of light chatter from the patrons, and the familiar smell of fried pub grub wafted her way. It wasn't as busy as she expected for a late weekend morning, but as she slowly observed the room she noticed them and her stomach hurtled down to her feet.
Suddenly the room felt packed and she struggled to breathe.
The wanted posters.
They were everywhere.
Roughly forty mugshots of her demented father stared back at her with the same empty, silver-eyed, almost bored-looking sneer on all of their gaunt faces. Some were pinned to brick columns, some lined the pinboards decorating the bar, but most of them were scattered on tables and painted on the front of newspapers in the patrons' hands. At the sound of a new group entering the pub, many of the wizards and witches turned to stare and Lyra swore she saw lips mouthing her name with a gentle head shake.
"So, this is what it's like to be you, huh," Lyra muttered to Harry, using what was left of her hair to hide her freckled face, and she pouted when he grinned. "Stop enjoying my misery!"
"Ha, no! Finally, it's someone else's turn," He sighed and went to follow the Tonkses over to the bar when an excited elderly couple popped out of nowhere to ask for his autograph.
This cheered Lyra up on the spot and she stepped in to help finalise another sale to Harry's annoyance.
Once Tom the barkeep showed them to their rooms and the two owls were watered and settled in their rooms, the group gathered in the bar and set off towards Diagon Alley to begin their extensive shopping trip. Lyra slipped her yellow aviators on to evade some of the suspicious glances thrown her way as they visited the crowded bank, and everywhere she seemed to dawdle she found Sirius' poster within a foot of her. It was exhausting.
The first instance of genuine peace and quiet came when the group entered Flourish and Blottsto hunt down their new subject texts.
With Ted's direction, Lyra found the Muggle Studies section and befuddled herself with course books ranging from the inner workings of Muggle politics, to biassed psychological analysis essays that supported the separation of the Muggles from the wizarding world, to Muggle children's fairytale stories. Since she was only a third year, most of the complex modules weren't due to crop up in class until at least her fifth year but that didn't stop Lyra from stripping the bookshelves clean.
After all of her ambition to bypass Hogwarts' 'no electricity allowed' rule was ruined by a certain evil Slytherin last year, she couldn't wait to restart her plans to diversify her school.
When Lyra started to search for the Duelling section in preparation for the anticipated club meetings, she spotted an incredibly familiar trio browsing around inside the Ancient Runes alcove, a dimly lit corner displaying books engraved with orange ruins that glowed in the dark. It looked like a cave of wonders, and Lyra ran inside to tackle its great phenomenon of all.
"I've missed you!" She exclaimed as she pounced at Hermione, scaring her half to death by wrapping her arms around her without warning, and Hermione let out a high pitched squeak of shock. "Hello Grangers!"
"It's good to see you Lyra, how have you been keeping, dear? We heard the news," whispered Hermione's mother Claire, but Hermione rushed to cut her off.
"Mum?!"
"Eh, it's ok, it's kinda hard not to bring it up considering his face seems to be on every—," Lyra spotted the wanted poster pinned to the alcove archway and groaned, "Aw come on! He's doing this on purpose now!"
"I think it may be best if we postpone your stay at Christmas this year, just to be on the safe side," reasoned Hermione's father Hugo as he offered Lyra a warm handshake. Lyra's heart sank but she accepted her fate without a rebuttal.
They didn't expect Sirius to be back in Azkaban by Christmas, and now neither did she. Was she ever going to be able to live her life without the threat of being murdered? Was this it now?
"Let's keep our fingers crossed for next year then," Lyra smiled, making them chuckle.
"I take it you're not alone in here?" Hermione asked, switching on her protective mode almost immediately, and Lyra swung her arm over her shoulder, appreciating her concern.
"Harry and the Tonkses are in here somewhere," She relayed, "I told them I'd meet them by the Defence Against the Dark Arts aisle but I'm pretty sure I already own the required books."
"Why don't we hunt them down and leave you two to peruse the shelves, no doubt you'll want some girl time to catch up," Hugo smiled, making his daughter roll her eyes and apologise on behalf of her embarrassing parents.
"Sorry, I warned Mum not to bring it up," Hermione blurted out as soon as they were alone but Lyra shook her head and began to hunt down her new books.
"Honestly it's ok, I'm over it," Lyra insisted, smiling through the pain, "it is what it is."
"That's a very convincing lie," Hermione pointed out, not buying her act for a second, but she did fall prey to her trap when Lyra played a trump card.
She pulled out an expensive stone book from the shelf that looked as though it had been written in liquid stardust by Odin himself. Hermione's eyes softened in awe and she snatched it out of Lyra's hands to get a closer look, forgetting what they were talking about.
"Oh, hello," came another voice, and Lyra turned to see Percy standing in the alcove entrance with a surprisingly warm smile.
He looked actually happy to see her for once or it was a trick of the light. She'd barely seen him all summer despite their family holiday and the few times her and Harry dropped by the Burrow.
"Are you both taking Ancient Runes this year?"
"Hey, Percy! It's great to see you too! I'm fine thanks, how are you? Is that a Head Boy pin in your cloak? Wow, congratulations, you never mentioned that when I saw you two weeks ago!" Lyra asked, wandering over to offer her second least favourite cousin a hug, and she froze in shock when he accepted it.
Granted, the hug was stiff and awkward as hell and his cloak smelt just as stale as the dusty books surrounding them, but he really did it!
"Yes it is, thank you for noticing… Good to see you," he muttered before reverting back into his cold shell. That didn't last long."Everyone's looking for you by the way, they're worried you've snuck off."
"Where did they get that crazy idea from?" Lyra pouted, a bit annoyed that she didn't think of that first, but Hermione scooped up two copies of their new school texts and marched Lyra out of the alcove with a promise to Percy that she would make sure she returned Lyra to the adults' supervision safely.
Percy never made it much of a secret that he preferred Hermione over most of his siblings. He thanked her with a firm nod of approval, a huge gesture in Percy's terms, before engrossing himself in the shop's wares and pretending they didn't exist.
"It's for your own good, and it's only for two days. We'll be safe at school, everyone will lighten up then," Hermione told her before she could open her mouth again, and Lyra continued to pout at her as they merged in with the ever-expanding group paying at the tills. She wanted to point out that the chances of something happening while they were in Diagon Alley was a million to one and that it was far more likely for her to run into Sirius at Hogwarts — but she held her tongue.
She knew better than to make her situation worse.
"Shut up, you have grown! Congrats cuz! It's been, what, only two weeks since I saw you?" Ron exclaimed the second Molly finally let her go. He greeted her with an open invitation for a hug, and Lyra squealed as she squeezed him tight.
Even though she was clearly still one of the shortest there, she beat Ginny by four millimetres and she never let anyone forget it, she could comfortably rest her head on his shoulder without strangling herself.
"Unfortunately so have you, but I'll take it," Lyra accepted, but she jumped away from Ron in pain when something sharp in his shirt pocket jabbed her in the chest. "Ow, dude?"
"Oh for— Scabbers, chill out!" Ron yelled into his pocket and flashed her a sheepish smile, "Sorry, he's still acting up, he didn't mean it."
"Still? Have you thought about visiting the menagerie for advice? They might have some medicine that'll settle him," suggested Hermione, debating offering Ron a hug. She eyed his pocket warily, and Ron patted her on the shoulder instead, knowing it was their safest option.
"I was hoping to go there next, I don't want to say it in front of him but he's driving me up the wall," he admitted, shielding his wriggling pocket as to not offend his mentally unstable rat, "it's gotten so bad that he refuses to leave my side now. I have to take him everywhere and you just know McGonagall or Snape is gonna say something."
"Is he ill? How's he looking?" Hermione wondered, trying to be helpful, and Ron led the pair away from the watchful eye of the shop assistant, informing them that he had already been told off for bringing a rat inside the shop full of expensive, chewable books.
Harry managed to slip away from answering Molly's one hundred and one questions about his well-being and safety and shuffled over to hand Lyra her Herbology books she neglected to buy.
"I told you, I don't need them," she muttered as she scowled at the navy and gold shopping bags he forced into her hands.
"I wonder what Hermione thinks about all of this," Harry retorted and turned to the one friend he could undoubtedly rely on to back him up. Lyra shushed him and encouraged Ron to get Scabbers out, delaying Hermione's inevitable rant about why she should take Herbology.
Ron rolled up the sleeve of his striped shirt and extracted his rat as though he would strike at him at any second. The scratches decorating his arm were very telling of his woes this summer and Lyra tutted, disappointed to see Scabbers sniff her hand for all of one second before he started squeaking again. He looked slimmer than last time and his dark fur was starting to recede around his pointy face and hind legs.
He looked bad, but Lyra didn't dare say that.
"Don't worry about it, I'm sure the people at the menagerie will be able to help, he looks… great," Lyra said in hopefully a confident voice, and Ron tried his best to accept her stance with a feeble smile.
Unfortunately, the old shopkeeper at Magical Menageriecouldn't have disagreed more.
"Yeah, your rat's about to die, son," he sighed, inspecting Scabbers on his counter with a magnifying glass that made his already bug eyes seem even larger.
Lyra had to slap her hand over her mouth to stop her primal urge to laugh at the blunt answer, and Hermione gasped, nervous as to Ron's reaction as his jaw swung open and his face swiftly lost all colour.
"You've got to be joking, isn't there anything you can do?!" He asked, his voice crackling in disbelief, "There's not some tonic or potion you can give him to make him better? You're an animal expert — this is literally what you do!"
"The only tonic that would work is a Time-Turner, I'm sorry," jested the shopkeeper with a shrug, and Lyra cocked her head in wonder. Harry beat her to the punch.
"What's a Time-Turner?"
"Don't worry," interjected Hermione quickly, shooting Harry a look that suggested he was being inappropriate, "it's not important."
As Ron bartered with the gangly shopkeeper to give him some kind of remedy for his distressed pet, Lyra's attention began to drift and she scooted over towards the Owlery section of the shop where the twins were tempting Ginny into buying an owl.
"—Just think of all of the parcels you can receive without Mum's knowledge, you can have the freedom to buy whatever you like whenever you like," hissed George, brandishing the short, bouncy, spotted wood owl perched on his arm towards her like an expert salesman.
The owl looked a little bit like a teddy bear, its fuzzy toffee face and round black eyes were quite adorable, and he seemed to enjoy the twins' rambunctious nature of being manhandled.
"'Buy me, Ginny! You won't regret it! You should also let your big brothers borrow me whenever they like because they're so cool, handsome, and great at giving advice!'" Fred squeaked, imitating the owl's imaginary voice as he tricked his beak into snapping with a treat.
"You heard the owl," Lyra sighed as she slid up next to Ginny who was struggling to not coo over its cuteness, "you have to buy him."
"I think she's a girl, and I already have a name for her," whined Ginny, getting flustered over the decision her heart had already made, "she's totally a Bunny, look at her little hops!"
"Sounds like a closed deal to me, welcome to the family, Bunny," Lyra held her hand out towards the spotted owl, and she hopped onto her arm instead, her stubby claws nipping her sweater sleeve as she jumped around. Ginny was right, she was definitely a rabbit trapped in an owl's body.
"What's the verdict? Is Scabbers dead yet?" asked Fred, nodding towards the counter where his brother was still arguing, and Lyra tried not to laugh as she remembered the shopkeeper's answer.
"Not yet but I'd suggest keeping an all-black outfit ready at a moment's notice, the funeral will be happening any day now," Lyra explained, but at the sight of the adults hanging around the entrance, she rolled her eyes and sought to distract herself with something else.
"How are you holding up, Black? Annoyed by everyone yet?" George asked, and Lyra bit back a discouraging scoff. Was it that obvious?
The parents and trainee Auror were acting as though they were some sort of security team escorting them around the high street and it was already doing her head in. Every shop needed to be vetted before she or Harry took a step inside and it made every task they needed to complete ten times as difficult and twice as long.
The Weasley trio noticed the cause of Lyra's bitchy pout and attempted to cheer her up by playing a prank on their disinterested sibling across the shop who was too busy admiring the boring three-horned frogs sleeping in their glass terrarium to pay attention to the kids. Ginny tiptoed past her clueless brother and ever so carefully pinned a decent-sized owl treat on top of his ginger curls, and then George let out a sharp whistle.
It was a bedlam of the best kind. The rush of a dozen flapping wings soaring past Lyra induced a shot of euphoria that she desperately needed and she laughed along with Fred as Percy screamed, afraid for his life as he ran around the store trying to avoid the swarm of owls vying for the mouse biscuit on his head.
"NO, CROOKSHANKS! Bloody thing, get down!" cried the shopkeeper as something agile and exceptionally hairy leapt onto the counter and hissed at Ron. Through the chaos of wings and ginger hair, Lyra saw what she first thought was a tiny lion smoothly jumping out of the way of the shopkeeper's swiping arms, and the screech of Scabbers freaking out joined Percy's chorus of fear.
"He's not food! Down!" Ron yelled at the beast of a cat and held his frantic rat firmly in the air out of its reach.
"I think we should go," Harry suggested, finally turning around and noticing the mess the twins caused, "quickly."
"You go ahead," Hermione murmured with a lazy hand wave, her gaze fully transfixed by the cat that was now licking its chubby paws as it watched Scabbers unwaveringly. "I've never seen a cat like this before."
"It's probably half Kneazle," Lyra informed her, joining Hermione in ignoring the boys in favour of the unique animal, "Andy told me that it's pretty common for strays to mate with Kneazles. He's so fluffy!"
"He's a pain in my arse," grumbled the shopkeeper, begrudgingly pulling out his curved wand to fix his shop, "he terrorises most of my customers, not to mention the merchandise."
"So is that a fancy way of saying he's for sale?" enquired Lyra, noticing the gleam in Hermione's eyes, and the shopkeeper looked hopeful.
"Are you interested?"
"I'll take him!" Hermione exclaimed, not realising it had come out of her mouth, but she didn't back down when the shopkeeper asked if she was certain.
"He deserves a good home where he'll be appreciated," she responded firmly, already feeling protective over Crookshanks, and Lyra awwed when the huge cat purred and rubbed his head against Hermione's offered palms.
"Yes! I already have an idea of a cat bed I can make for our dorm— oh my God, the outfits! I can make you both matching jumpers!" Lyra visualised, hyping her friend up.
"Crookshanks, this is your godmother Lyra," Hermione introduced as she pulled out her early birthday money from her bag and paid for her fluffy gift, "be careful around her, she will dress you up against your will and I'm not willing to fight her on your behalf."
Lyra noticed the sudden switch in the shopkeeper's expression when he heard her name and he moved away from her as though her notoriety was contagious. Her mood dipped significantly and she kept her head down for the rest of their interaction.
Ron was less than impressed when Hermione and Ginny introduced their new pets to the group ("I'm beginning to think Scabbers has a right to be stressed, you're all trying to kill him!" He accused, protecting his pocket with his life) but once the animals were dropped off back in their rooms, the rest of their shopping trip was a resounding success. Lyra soon forgot why she was pouting when she discovered that her growth spurt was real when the magical tailor suggested she needed a new set of robes.
It wasn't until she found the spectacular sporting shop that she officially decided today was worth the whispers following her. She happily accepted the pointed stares when she stood in the middle of the street and gawked at the show-stopping new display in the window. She had never seen a magical advertisement like this before and she felt herself drawn in by the masterful marketing at work.
INTRODUCING THE HOTTEST BROOM IN THE WORLD AND THE NUMBER ONE SPONSOR FOR THE 1994 QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP—
The Firebolt!
'So fast even lightning couldn't catch you!'
The sleekest ebony broomstick Lyra had ever seen was levitating before her against a background depicting a thunderstorm. The gold detailing on its handle flashed when lightning stuck inside the display, and she whooped loudly at the theatrics. It was beauty, it was grace, it was everything she ever wanted.
She needed that broom.
"It says it reaches up to a hundred and fifty miles per hour — woah!" guffawed Ron, sliding up to her left.
"It must be the fastest broom in the world," said Harry dreamily, coming up to her right, but Lyra's heart sank as she pointed out the price tag.
"'Price on request only'," she read, "yikes, that's not a good sign."
"Maybe we could go halves on it," Harry suggested.
"What? And both of us ride it during our games?" Lyra giggled, but as she began to visualise how hilarious that would be and went to say that she agreed to his plan, Harry shook his head, wary of the dimples peeking out from her freckles.
"I've changed my mind."
"If you do end up getting one though, I know someone who would happily take your Nimbus off your hands," Ron smiled persuasively, wriggling his brows at them.
"I dunno, Vivienne loves life in the fast lane, you might not have the guts to take her on," Lyra warned, but before she could march inside the busy shop to at least find out roughly how much a new broom would cost her, the trio were peeled from the display by Tonks.
"As much as I would love to see you buy half the store, it's time for dinner, come on you three" she teased, ruffling Lyra's hair, and she begrudgingly conceded without a fight. She noticed a small yellow sign in the corner of the Quidditch store advertising its mail-order catalogue so it wasn't like she had to physically buy the broom right now…? The idea sprung to the forefront of Lyra's mind and she kept her mouth firmly shut as they were dragged back towards the pub.
"Did you see that the Quidditch World Cup is next year?" Harry noted, looking back at the shop in longing.
"Of course, you guys wouldn't know," guffawed Ron, smacking his forehead, "It happens every four years and England is hosting this year! Matches are spread throughout the summer but the only ones worth watching are the British team matches and the Final."
"How hard is it to get tickets?" Lyra demanded, her stomach twirling in joy at the prospect of attending every match she could get her hands on, but Tonks and Ron shared a smirk and snickered.
"Like, impossible," Tonks admitted.
"They pretty much sell out two years in advance," Ron sighed, "they're like gold dust."
"Gold dust that some of us may already have," Tonks added knowingly, leaning towards the trio so the group in front wouldn't hear, "who do reckon is in charge of the whole event? Who's organising it?"
OH!
Lyra's eyes ballooned and she gasped but Tonks swiftly covered Lyra's mouth to stifle her squeal, giving Harry a chance to catch up. He was still staring at them in total confusion.
"The… Quidditch Union?"
"There's a Department of Magical Co-operation and a Department of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry, by the way," Ron hinted, giving his best friend a decent chance at least, and Harry matched Lyra's levels of subtle excitement.
"Oh… OH!" Harry gawked at Tonks, "You've got tickets?!"
"Not yet," she whispered, cautious of her parents overhearing as they were only a few feet away in a deep discussion with Hermione and Ginny, "each department is throwing their own lottery-style draw to win free tickets to the Final and I'm hoping to surprise Dad with them. Mum doesn't care as much so I dunno if she'll want to come, but obviously, I'm including you guys in this surprise as well."
"And Dad's been pretty lucky with winning tickets in the past considering there are only three people in his department, so either way there's a very high chance we can go!" Ron struggled to whisper as he was giggly with excitement too.
"Shut up!" Lyra uttered, trying to keep her voice down, "This is possibly the best news ever!"
"But…" Harry couldn't stop himself from ruining the moment, "what if Sirius isn't caught by then? Will we still be allowed to go?"
Lyra's heart started to slide down her rib cage in disappointment, she didn't think about that.
"I don't see why not? We'll be in a huge group," Ron assumed, refusing to let the mood sour, "right, Tonks?"
But Tonks didn't look too confident. Clearly she, like Lyra, expected the whole Sirius fiasco to be wrapped up by then but the slight possibility that it would still be a problem this time next year…? That was enough to knock her excitement down a level.
"Oh Merlin, I dunno…" she admitted, but upon realising that Lyra looked as though someone had punched Apollo in front of her she transformed her doubtful pout into a hopeful smile. "But let's not get too ahead of ourselves and count you guys out. I'm getting you tickets regardless."
"And so will Dad," added Ron brightly. "Relax! That's like three hundred and something days away, so much can happen in that space of time! It will all work out in the end, trust me."
He slapped his friends on the shoulder supportively but Lyra hardly felt it. Their optimism wasn't realistic from her point of view, it wasn't their freedom they were losing. If Sirius wasn't caught then it wasn't any of them who was going to have to pay the consequences, it was her. The new dream of possibly attending a World Cup game was dangled in front of her for roughly thirty seconds before it was cruelly snatched away.
It was the first time Lyra genuinely considered hunting Sirius down.
"Mhmm, yeah because nothing bad ever happens to us," Harry lowered his mumble for Lyra's ears only and she tried not to smirk as her anger simmered down by a single degree. She wasn't alone.
If she was locked up for the rest of her life then at least she had an entertaining cellmate.
The ambient rumble of the storm passing through the capital infiltrated the Leaky Cauldron's creaky corridors, its deep crashes sounding very much like rolling ocean waves. The heavens opened at sundown and the torrential rain showed no signs of stopping, nobody was looking forward to their rainy trip to the train station in the morning.
Lyra paused when a second wave of thunder boomed overhead and lightning lit up her open bedroom windows, listening for the sounds of footsteps outside her door. When she heard only the heavy gushes of rain from outside she continued to catch Hermione and Ron up on the rest of her and Harry's summers. She had been waiting all day to catch the pair alone so she could divulge what she had uncovered recently, but when she figured out that her family were insistent on keeping her in their eyesight she patiently waited until everyone went to bed.
"—and just as we went to leave, I turned back and finally agreed to his terms. I told Crouch that I'm never going to try and speak to him again, and then we left and headed back to Tonks' house," Lyra finished with a small shrug, no sign of tears on the horizon this time but she refused to look at Harry in case she prompted him to mention her breakdown that followed. Thankfully he didn't.
"That doesn't surprise me at all," Ron sighed, leaning back against her bed's footboard and gently placing his snoozing rat in his lap, "but at least he didn't call the Ministry on you, imagine what Fudge or Dumbledore would say if they caught you out and about."
"Exactly my point, you shouldn't have risked your lives to visit your grandfather. I still can't believe the Minister for Magic came to see you, Harry, which does prove my point that you should be valuing your safety more by staying in protected areas," Hermione highlighted, staring at Harry inquisitively, and Lyra smirked when she recognised the same questions she had forming behind her eyes.
"I'm sorry to bring it up again but Lyra's dad sounds super dangerous, he's clearly after you for a reason. He must've been You-Know-Who's right-hand man to warrant all of these measures so risking it all to meet a horrible man like that was incredibly stupid."
"It was a tiny bit stupid, but it was necessary. Something's missing here, we're not being told the whole story," said Lyra, disregarding her feelings. She had to be logistical and factual when speaking about her father, it was the only way for her not to get too emotional. She needed to prepare herself for dealing with gossip at school so she needed to start now. Ugh, Draco is gonna make me hit him again, I just know it.
"So far we know that our parents were friends and that Sirius turned to the dark side," Harry verbalised their trail so far and counted the facts using his fingers, but Lyra cut him off.
"Wait, if he's turned to the dark side, and he's my dad, then does that make him Darth Vader and me Leia?" Lyra oohed, tickled by the concept.
"Depends on whether you're the one who ends up killing him or not, you might be Luke," Harry wagered.
Lyra liked that idea and her smile betrayed her intrusive thought. Oh, I am so gonna be able to go to the World Cup next year! Watch out Daddio, you're dead!
"Don't tell her that!" Hermione huffed, anxious about Lyra's impish smirk growing as she curled up in her fluffy dressing gown opposite them and almost kicked Scabbers off of Ron's stretched legs whilst trying to get comfortable.
"Wait, what's going on? Whose Darth Vader?" Ron asked, totally lost in the Muggle reference to notice that his rat nearly went flying across the bedroom, and Lyra immediately got up to search for the only Star Wars comic she owned. Please tell me I packed it!
"Back to my point," Harry reiterated once Lyra threw her vintage comic at Ron and returned to her seat in their wonky square on the creaking four-poster bed, "I think our parents were closer than people let on. I've been thinking a lot about what Crouch said," Lyra cringed at the memory and grimaced at him as an apology, "and it was like he blamed Sirius for my parents dying like he was involved. Crouch knows something we don't."
Harry reached over to the bedside table where Lyra had left her photo album open and found the scenes of his parent's wedding.
"Sirius was their best man, they died the same night as Giselle, the same night Lyra went missing… These aren't just coincidences, Sirius did something more than kill a bunch of people, he did something to my mum and dad."
Lyra nibbled on her lip as she gazed down at the photo of their parents hugging each other, their mouths silently moving in a conversation she would never hear. Just by looking at it, you would never know that something nefarious was happening behind the scenes, they looked like one big happy family.
A surge of heat coursed through her chest as the truth began to sink in. She hated how obvious it was and she never thought to consider it since she had been trying to avoid dwelling on the past she couldn't change. What her father did didn't just affect her, it affected Harry too. What if he was the real reason everything went to shit on her second birthday?
"He betrayed them," Lyra thought aloud, unashamed of the idea of her monstrous father she built up in her mind. That had to be it. "He betrayed us. He sold your parents out to Voldemort, and then he murdered my mum… maybe because she found out what he'd done?"
"I didn't want to say it, but yeah," Harry muttered, watching her nervously, "the papers said he was a follower of Voldemort — what if he was the follower? His second-in-command like Hermione said?"
"It would explain why everyone is so afraid of him," said Hermione, a little shaken.
"It makes sense. I remember Dad saying how the story of his arrest was in the papers for weeks alongside Harry's story, it was huge news at the time," Ron furrowed his brow as he tried to think, "Fred and George said they remembered Mum cried a lot back then, and I'm beginning to think she and Dad know more about it than they let on. They've been real shifty ever since the Azkaban news broke."
Lyra leaned back against her headboard and huffed, running her hands through her hair to ease the flow of her rapid thoughts. More secrets. There was more unearthed trauma that was being kept from her. Her dad's actions tainted even more lives, he was everywhere she saw pain.
"Yippee! And this isn't even the worst news we have to deal with too, lucky us!" she said dryly, and only Harry snickered.
"Oh yeah," Ron pulled an unintentionally awkward grimace and dared to be the one to repeat it.
No one had brought Riddle up since Lyra first told them. She casually swept the subject under the rug and moved on to Harry's dilemmas without giving them a chance to ask questions. The harrowing look in their eyes was enough to let her know they were just as terrified as she was.
"So there's another object that's possessed by You-Know-Who? And Kreacher knew about it the entire time?"
"Technically Kreacher didn't know what was inside the locket when he was given it, and the objects are more like containers, no, more like vessels for his soul. The closest thing I can compare it to is Sauron and the One Ring," Lyra waited to see if Ron had kept his promise to read the famous trilogy, and his face lit up in recognition.
"Wait, I know that one! Lord of the Rings!" He burst, looking to Lyra for some praise, and she nodded ever so proudly at him.
"Does that mean we have to… that there'll be… inside the locket, there's a…?" Hermione flirted with the point and looked up at Lyra as though she was a wounded puppy.
"Yeah, I'm ninety-nine per cent sure there's another Riddle inside it," Lyra answered bluntly and she forced the blush out of her cheeks. "And with everything that's going on, I don't think I'm ready to do anything with that necklace yet."
"Phew! Ok, then that's fine!" Ron slumped in relief, thankful for the lucky escape, "'cause I'm not ready either."
"That makes three of us," Harry agreed.
"Four," Hermione corrected with a shudder.
"I only wanted to make you aware of the whole Horcrux thing because it needs to be dealt with eventually, that's future us's problem, and obviously you guys know that I'm not strong enough to do this by myself," Lyra assured them.
"You're definitely strong enough, but whether you're smart enough—," Harry teased but she held back when Lyra threatened him with a pillow to the face.
"You don't have it with you now, do you?" Hermione checked, glancing over her shoulder at the pile of mess on the floor that was her trunk.
"Hell no! It's under strict protection back at my grandmother's house, I've not taken it yet," Lyra spat, revolted by the idea. She would never sleep if she knew it was near.
Another bolt of lightning lit up the window and bathed the four lounging on the bed in white light as Lyra thought of the night's sleep ahead of her. Her nightmare was going to be bad this time, she could feel the dread welling in her stomach the more she lingered on Riddle's evil belongings and the hold they had over her.
She was deeply afraid of the prospect of her just holding it let alone wearing it. How would she react? Would she be strong enough to abstain from using it? Does the necklace know what happened to its diary counterpart? Does Sirius know what she had in her possession, does he know about Riddle's Horcruxes? The questions kept coming.
When the four of them started a contagious yawn chain that they couldn't seem to break, Hermione announced it was time for bed as they had a big day ahead of them. Lyra whispered her goodbyes as she watched them creep back to their individual rooms (bar Ron who had to hold his breath once he passed through his door as he was sharing with Percy) and she waited ten full seconds of silence before returning to her own. She was alone.
And awfully thirsty.
Lyra debated calling Kreacher for a midnight cup of tea to send her off to sleep but when the third bright lightning flash illuminated the side street below her window she noticed the same Muggle off-licence from this morning buried in the corner of the road. Its blinking neon 'open' sign was a beacon amongst the sheets of rain, it was the only focus of her nighttime view and it sure as hell meant she didn't have to go to sleep yet.
Riddle and her father could wait.
Lyra scooped a handful of Muggle coins into her pyjama shorts pocket and shoved on both her black trainers and what looked like one of Harry's hoodies as she recognised the scent of his argan oil conditioner, Andy must've thought it was hers by mistake. The window swung open wider than Lyra expected ("I guess wizard suicides are more creative than Muggle ones," Lyra mumbled to herself) and she climbed out into the slippery thin ledge lining the second floor sheltered by the trim of the roof.
The cool spray from the waterfall streaming down from above gave her an extra boost as adrenaline coursed through her veins. The high alleyway wall was only a metre away from her perch, if she stretched carefully then she would be able to shimmy and jump her way down to safety. The inn's floors were far too creaky and her room was the furthest from the stairs. Gosh, I'm so smart!
Bracing herself for the rain, Lyra extended her leg and gently propelled her body forwards, preparing to grab onto the wall with her arms stretched wide for balance. Her foot didn't slip as she made the plunge, the sudden thrash of rain against her cheeks was exhilarating, but as she swivelled to drop her legs down lower and hang off the wall Lyra made one dire mistake by looking up.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Harry shout-whispered as he stuck his head out of the window to the left of her room, glaring down at her despite his own head getting soaked in the process, and Lyra's grip failed her.
"Omph!" Lyra made a funny sound as she grazed her entire body down the wall and crumpled in a heap in the alleyway. Immediately she realised she fell into a puddle as her shorts and hoodie were soaked through within seconds, but the pain was pretty limited as the fall looked a lot worse than it was.
"Lyra!"
"I'm ok!" She called up to him, hoping he wouldn't bother her anymore, but her hands swiftly found her hips as Harry dropped down from the wall beside her, judging her from beneath his jacket hood.
"…Evening," she mumbled, hugging her body and avoiding his gaze, but she was drawn to it like a moth to a flame when he sighed in disappointment. There was no sign of humour or leeway in this particular sigh and it made her stomach grow heavy with guilt, she didn't want to hear him sigh like that again.
"Evening," Harry mumbled back, trying to stay solemn but he couldn't help but wonder, "Are you alright? You're bleeding."
"Pssh, I'm wearing long socks tomorrow, it's nothing," she dismissed the cut on her shin and started towards the corner shop. Her shoes were soaked now, she hated how squishy they felt between her toes and she yearned to be back in her bedroom. This weather was horrible, it made her almost feel a little bit sick.
"I'll only be one second—,"
"Lyra, seriously, this needs to stop," Harry asserted, grabbing her arm and holding her back for a moment longer.
She had to meet his eye this time, his tone dampened her urgency and her pouty lips pursed. He didn't look angry, but the crease between his brow was worse.
"I know it's frustrating, I know it feels like you're trapped in a cage at the moment with everyone watching you all the time but you need to understand that it's for your own good. Being out here, alone, is the very last thing you should be doing. It's not worth the risk, and for my own peace of mind please promise me —actually no," Harry offered her his pinky and maintained her attention, "pinky promise me that you'll stop putting yourself in danger, or at least let me come with you. I mean it, Lyra, please…"
Lyra flushed red in pure shame and accepted his terms with a shy nod, her feeble pinky wrapping around his.
"I know you're right, I know I'm being stupid and reckless but I just… I need to keep myself distracted because if I'm left alone with nothing to focus on then my thoughts get louder, they start screaming and I can't get his damn face out of my mind… and now everything with Dad adding on I can't seem to stop my brain from going crazy," she said softly. Her secrets were masked by the hammering of rain all around them and she scowled up at him, trying to verbalise her pain. "I'm trying my fucking best here!"
"I know you think you are, you're the most hard-headed person I know, but I'm trying my best too and my best means protecting you," Harry urged her, trying to make her see, "let me help you do your best, let me turn it into your very best or whatever — you're not alone in this. Just remember, you're my favourite person so if something happens to you then I'll be devastated. Do you want me to be devastated, Black?"
Lyra's lips twitched, her smile breaking through. "…No, obviously not."
"Then listen to me! So let me in on your distractions while we're at school like we're still in Thistledown, whatever it is you need to do to help you forget about Riddle let me be a part of it. Because if you end up getting murdered by your dad and I wasn't there then I'm gonna kill you," Harry told her, his voice staying low and almost getting lost amongst the sounds of a nearby passing car, but Lyra heard him loud and clear for the first time.
"You really need to work on your phrasing," she teased, wrinkling her nose at the thought of Harry standing by to watch as Sirius hacked her to pieces, "first the skin suit, and now this? Are you a sadist?
Harry immediately blushed and rolled his eyes, shoving her away despite his smile. "You know what I meant! And even if I was, I wouldn't tell you."
The dark similarity between Harry and Tom popped up in her mind without meaning to but she kept the comment to herself. It was neither the time nor the place.
"As your manager, I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Lyra assured him, now having to squint at him as the rain was consistently dripping from her eyelashes.
"And as your best friend, I'm asking you to hurry up and go inside the bloody shop, I'm starting to freeze," Harry shivered and he herded her inside as they had been dawdling in the rain for way too long. They were going to wake up with a chill for sure.
"Do you see why I didn't invite you—,"
"Doesn't matter, in you go!" Harry interrupted by shoving her through the shop door, and a trill bell rang out as she slipped into the linoleum-floored off-licence.
Lyra minded her manners and apologised to the man behind the counter for getting his floors all wet and bought as many cans of Dr Pepper as she could find on the shelves. She felt Harry's side-eye the entire time but he brightened up when she threw one at him. See? So worth it!
"What? It's not like I can ask Kreacher to pop to the local shop, can I? Could you imagine his reaction, let alone the shopkeepers? He'd have a heart attack," She pointed out as they returned to the alley wall underneath the inn's hidden windows.
Harry paused, realising the logic behind her sneak out but he smirked as he watched her struggle to balance the heavy plastic bag full of cans whilst climbing a slippery brick wall.
"Yeah sure, but you could've used him to apparate out of your room instead of climbing out your window," he sighed, leaning against the wall as he watched her with a smug expression, and Lyra jumped back down to glare at him. Maybe she should have invited Harry after all.
God damn it! Maybe I am dumb?
"Kreacher!"
Pop!