The Echoes Of Us

Grimmauld Place. 1st September 1971.

Despite its dark, moody exterior and interior—walls cloaked in somber tones, heavy velvet drapes shrouding the windows, and the faint scent of dust and ancient magic clinging to the air—excitement brewed in one of its young inhabitants: Lyra Cordelia Black.

Her room was immaculate, a reflection of her mother’s exacting standards rather than her own personality. The dark green walls bore no posters or mementos, only the Black family tapestry hung with pride above her desk. The bookshelves, lined with pristine tomes on pure-blood history and advanced spellwork, hinted more at what was expected of her than what she truly cared for. Even her trunk looked more like a statement of tradition than preparation for adventure.

Lyra sat on her bed, meticulously lacing her black boots, her thoughts buzzing louder than the quiet around her. She had spent eleven years trying to meet her mother’s expectations, never daring to stray from the path laid out for her. But today, she was leaving Grimmauld Place. Today, she was going to Hogwarts—a place where even the weight of the Black name might not feel so crushing.

"Lyra!" Sirius’s voice rang up the staircase, loud and impatient. "If you’re not ready, I’m leaving without you!"

Her lips twitched into a small smile. Sirius had been counting down the days to this moment, and honestly, so had she. With a final glance around her perfectly arranged room, Lyra stood, smoothing her dress and placing her favourite hair clip into her hair with practiced precision.

She opened the door to find Regulus lingering in the hallway. The youngest Black sibling, his dark hair neatly combed, looked up at her with a mixture of curiosity and unease. “You’re really leaving today,” he said softly, as if testing the words.

“Yes,” Lyra said, her tone more confident than she felt. “Sirius and I are off to Hogwarts.”

Regulus shifted on his feet, hesitating before blurting out, “You’ll write, won’t you?”

Lyra’s heart softened. For all his quiet obedience to their parents, Regulus had always been her shadow, watching her with wide, trusting eyes. “Of course I’ll write,” she promised, ruffling his hair, much to his mild protest. “And next year, you’ll be joining us.”

Before Regulus could respond, Walburga’s sharp voice cut through the air. “Lyra! Sirius! Downstairs. Now.”

Lyra exchanged a glance with Regulus, her earlier warmth replaced with a pang of anxiety. She descended the grand staircase, her boots clicking against the polished wood, to find her mother waiting in the foyer. Walburga stood tall and imperious, her cold grey eyes sweeping over Lyra and Sirius as he bounded into the room.

“Finally,” Walburga said, her tone clipped. “I trust you’ll both remember who you are and act accordingly. You are Blacks, and you will not bring shame to this family.”

“Yes, Mother,” Lyra said automatically, lowering her gaze. Sirius, however, scoffed audibly, earning a sharp glare.

“Don’t look so sour, Mother,” he said, his grin defiant. “You’ll be rid of us for most of the year. You should be thrilled.”

Walburga’s expression tightened, but before she could respond, Orion Black stepped into the foyer, his commanding presence immediately altering the atmosphere. The tension shifted; no one dared to speak out of turn. His calm, measured tone carried more weight than Walburga’s sharp commands ever could.

“What’s all this commotion about?” Orion asked, his dark eyes sweeping over the scene. “We should all be heading toward the train station by now.”

Sirius, who had been on the verge of another cheeky remark, fell silent, his rebellious grin replaced by a carefully neutral expression. Even he wasn’t reckless enough to challenge his father directly.

“Father,” Lyra greeted him quickly, bowing her head slightly out of respect. Sirius followed suit with a curt, “Morning, Father.”

Orion’s gaze lingered on them for a moment, and while his expression was unreadable, Lyra felt a subtle weight in his scrutiny. His approval, or lack of it, was never spoken outright, but it loomed over them all the same.

“I trust you’ve prepared yourselves properly,” he said, his deep voice calm but firm. “Hogwarts is not a place for frivolity. Remember that you are representing this family, whether you are in class or simply walking through the corridors. I expect both of you to conduct yourselves accordingly.”

“Yes, Father,” Lyra responded immediately, her voice steady.

Sirius nodded, though his jaw tightened slightly. “Of course, Father.”

“Good,” Orion said with finality, casting a glance at Walburga. “Let’s not waste any more time. The train will not wait for us.”

Outside, the cool morning air felt refreshing compared to the stifling atmosphere of the house. Sirius exhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders as though shaking off invisible chains. He nudged Lyra lightly as they approached the waiting carriage that would take them to King’s Cross.

“Well,” he muttered under his breath, keeping his voice low enough that only she could hear, “that went better than expected.”

Lyra allowed herself a small smile, though her chest still felt tight. “Let’s just get to Hogwarts,” she replied softly. “I’m ready to leave all of this behind.”

“Trust me, Cordelia,” Sirius said, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he leaned back in the carriage seat. He always used that name, he was the only one who dared to use it, and always with an extra emphasis to needle her. “This is just the beginning. By tonight, we’ll be in the Great Hall, surrounded by people who have no idea what a nightmare this place is.”

Lyra rolled her eyes, a smile creeping onto her face. “Call me Cordelia again,” she warned, her tone light but with a playful edge, “and I’ll make sure you spend your entire year being called Orion.”

Sirius gasped in mock horror, clutching his chest as though her words had struck him. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh, I would,” she said sweetly, tilting her head with an innocent smile. “And don’t think I won’t charm the house-elves to make sure every owl post to you reads ‘Dear Orion Jr.’ either.”

Sirius burst out laughing, the sound bright and infectious, cutting through the weight of their departure. “Alright, Lyra, you win,” he conceded, though the mischievous gleam in his grey eyes promised he’d try again another time. “But only because I’d hate to ruin my impeccable reputation.”

“Reputation?” she shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You mean the one you haven’t even built yet?”

The two of them dissolved into laughter, the tension of the morning melting away as the carriage rattled on. For the first time that day, the oppressive shadow of Grimmauld Place felt distant, like a memory they could leave behind.

The carriage pulled up outside King’s Cross Station, jolting slightly as it came to a halt. Lyra and Sirius hopped out, both of them craning their necks to take in the bustling scene ahead. The station was alive with the noise of travelers, clattering trolleys, and hurried footsteps echoing across the concourse.

For a moment, Lyra simply stood there, clutching the handle of her trunk. Despite her excitement to leave Grimmauld Place behind, her nerves returned in a sudden wave. The thought of stepping into Hogwarts, of meeting new people, of figuring out where she belonged—it was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

“Move along, children,” Walburga said sharply as she swept past them, her black cloak billowing behind her. She wrinkled her nose, her gaze flickering with disdain as she took in the busy station. “Let’s not hang around all these...Muggles,” she added, her voice dripping with disgust as she practically spat the word.

Sirius rolled his eyes behind her back, muttering under his breath, “Merlin forbid she breathes the same air as them.”

Lyra stifled a laugh, her nerves settling just a little at his irreverence. Sirius had a way of making even the most oppressive moments feel less heavy, a skill she was already grateful for.

Their father, Orion, approached with his usual composed demeanor, his presence commanding attention even without the sharpness Walburga relied on. “Enough, Sirius,” he said, his deep voice calm but carrying a note of finality. “Let’s keep moving.”

The moment they stepped through onto Platform 9 ¾, it felt as though the world paused. Heads turned, conversations hushed, and people instinctively stepped aside. The Black family carried a presence that was impossible to ignore, their name and reputation preceding them wherever they went. Walburga strode forward with her head held high, her gaze cold and imperious as she scanned the crowd. Orion followed with a measured grace, exuding an unspoken command of respect.

Lyra felt the weight of all those eyes on her, and her grip on the trolley tightened. She resisted the urge to shrink under the scrutiny, instead lifting her chin slightly in an attempt to mimic her parents’ composure. Sirius, however, seemed completely unaffected.

“Blimey, you’d think we were royalty,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough for Lyra to hear.

“Technically, in their world, we might as well be,” she replied, her tone dry but soft.

“Royal pain, maybe,” Sirius quipped with a wink.

As they reached the gleaming Hogwarts Express, Sirius broke away first, bounding up the steps with an eagerness that contrasted sharply with the composed movements of their parents. He leaned out of a nearby window almost immediately, waving at the crowd.

“Don’t cause a scene,” Walburga snapped, her voice sharp.

“Too late!” Sirius called back cheerfully, grinning widely.

Lyra bit back a laugh, knowing better than to react openly under her mother’s watchful glare. She turned to Regulus and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “See you soon, okay?” she said softly, her voice reassuring.

Regulus nodded, his face still pinched with worry. “Be careful,” he whispered, so quietly that only she could hear.

“I will,” she promised before glancing up at their mother, who was standing stiffly nearby.

Walburga’s sharp eyes locked onto her, a cold, calculating expression etched into her face. “Remember who you are,” she said, her voice low but commanding, leaving no room for argument.

Lyra swallowed hard, her heart racing as she nodded slowly.

Walburga turned to Orion, who stood a short distance away, as if trying to create space between himself and the rest of the family. He offered a slight, formal nod, but his posture was far less rigid than hers.

“Tu es ma fille,” Walburga continued, her voice unwavering, her tone laced with a pride that was more suffocating than comforting. “Souviens-toi de ça.” [You are my daughter, remember that.]

She opened her hand to reveal a delicate, antique locket, the surface etched with intricate designs. Lyra hesitated as she took it, her fingers brushing the cool metal. The locket snapped open, revealing a small photograph—Walburga, smiling softly, holding a tiny infant Lyra in her arms.

“N’oubliez pas d’écrire à votre famille,” Walburga instructed, her voice softer now, though her authority still loomed over the words. [Don’t forget to write to your family.]

Lyra blinked back a surge of emotion, closing the locket and slipping it into her pocket. She didn’t trust herself to speak just yet, her heart heavy with the weight of her mother’s words and the bittersweet memory locked in the locket.

Sirius, who had been watching from the steps, gave her a nudge. “Come on, Lyra,” he said softly, seeing the shift in her demeanor. “We’ve got a train to catch.”

Taking a deep breath, Lyra nodded and stepped away from her mother’s imposing presence. She gave Regulus a final smile and squeezed his hand lightly before turning back to the train.

Walburga’s gaze followed her until she was out of sight, her expression unreadable. Orion stood several feet away, his own countenance distant, seemingly disengaged from the emotional scene.

As the train doors closed, Lyra and Sirius settled into a compartment near the back, the hum of the Hogwarts Express beginning to drown out the world beyond the window.

Sirius leaned back with a sigh of relief, stretching his legs. “That’s that, then,” he said with a grin. “Welcome to the start of our real adventure.”

Lyra gave him a weak smile, her fingers absently touching the locket in her pocket. “Real adventure,” she echoed softly, the weight of the moment still lingering in her chest.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The train rumbled steadily forward, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the tracks creating a comforting, if monotonous, background noise. Sirius sat by the window, watching the countryside blur past in a sea of greens and browns. Lyra leaned back in her seat, her fingers still resting lightly on the locket in her pocket, lost in thought.

The compartment door slid open, and two boys stepped inside. One had messy black hair, glasses perched precariously on his nose, while the other had brown hair and looked slightly nervous, his hands clasped tightly together. The boy with glasses glanced between Sirius and Lyra.

“Hi! My name’s James—James Potter, and this here is Peter,” James introduced with a wide grin.

“Peter Pettigrew,” Peter said quietly, his voice subdued as he shifted uncomfortably. “Do you mind if we sit here?” James asked, motioning to the empty seats.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, giving Lyra a glance before shrugging. “Why not?” he said easily. “The more, the merrier.”

James grinned and plopped down beside Sirius, while Peter hesitated briefly before taking a seat across from Lyra. He kept his gaze fixed on his hands in his lap.

“Thanks,” James said, settling comfortably. “I’m Sirius. Sirius Black, and that’s Lyra, we’re twins.” Sirius gestured toward Lyra.

“Nice to meet you,” Lyra said with a small smile, nodding at the two boys who now sat across from her.

“Your names are so cool! You sound like—you’re in one of those muggle bands!” James said, his enthusiasm a little too high.

“Muggle bands?” Sirius asked, now genuinely confused. The concept was entirely unfamiliar to him. To say the Black twins didn’t know much about muggles was an understatement. They were frowned upon by their family, though Sirius and Lyra never really understood why—they thought it was stupid.

“Yeah! You know, like The Beatles or Led Zeppelin,” James said excitedly, oblivious to Sirius’s blank expression.

Lyra frowned, looking between Sirius and James. “We don’t really—” she began, but James cut her off with a wave of his hand.

“Never mind! It’s just a cool name,” James said quickly, though his excitement dimmed slightly when he noticed their confusion. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. Anyway, what do you two think your houses are going to be?”

Before either Sirius or Lyra could respond, the compartment door slid open once again. A boy with fluffy sandy brown hair stood there, his face marked with faint scars, and a book clutched tightly in his hands.

“Hi, everywhere is full. Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked shyly.

“Of course not, come in,” Lyra said with a warm smile. “I’m Lyra, Lyra Black. That there is my brother Sirius. That’s James Potter and Peter Pettigrew.” She gestured between the four of them.

“My name’s Remus Lupin.” He smiled softly at the group as he took the seat next to Lyra. “So, back to my question, what do you think your house is going to be? I hope I’m in Gryffindor.” James said eagerly.

Sirius and Lyra both exchanged a glance, their faces carrying a somber look.

“What's wrong?” James asked, frowning slightly as Lyra opened the locket her mother had given her earlier.

“Are you both sad about leaving your family?” Peter asked hesitantly.

Lyra and Sirius gave a short, humorless laugh. “No,” they both answered at the same time.

The silence that followed was heavier than before, the weight of their unspoken thoughts lingering in the air.

“It’s more complicated than that,” Sirius said after a moment, his voice low.

“We don’t really get along well with our family, besides our younger brother,” Lyra added, her fingers still tracing the edge of the locket her mother had given her.

“And the thing is,” Sirius hesitated for a while before the words came pouring out of him, “Our whole family’s gone to Slytherin. We’ll definitely be put there, and that means we’re going to be stuck with people who are exactly like them.”

The twins had been trying to ignore this fact since they had received their acceptance letters to Hogwarts. They hated the idea that they were destined to be placed in Slytherin.

The three boys stared at the twins, taken aback.

"Your whole family's gone to Slytherin?" Peter asked, his voice a mix of surprise and concern.

"Yeah," Lyra said solemnly.

"You know what? Who cares if you get put into Slytherin? We can all still hang out. You don't have to spend all your time with them," James said confidently.

"Really?" the twins asked, their eyes lighting up.

"Yeah! We'll even sneak you in so you don't have to sleep down in the dungeons," James grinned.

“James is right,” Remus added with a smile, “It doesn’t matter what house you’ll be in, we can still hang out with each other.”

Lyra and Sirius exchanged a look, their smiles growing brighter.

"Thanks," Sirius said softly, a small smile still lingering on his face. After a moment, a curious look appeared in his eyes.

"Wait, James, I have a question," Sirius began, his brow furrowed in thought. "What kind of music do the muggle bands play?"

James grinned widely, clearly excited to answer. "Oh, they play all sorts of things! Guitars, drums, keyboards... sometimes even just voices and a few instruments! It’s really cool! They make music without magic, and it sounds amazing!"

Sirius frowned thoughtfully, his expression somewhere between confusion and intrigue. "Huh... So they do everything with just muggle things? Like no wands or spells?"

"Exactly!" James said, practically beaming. "They don’t need magic, just talent and some creativity! You’d probably like it once you hear more."

Sirius gave a half-smile, still thinking it over. "Hmm. Sounds... different."

"It is! You’d probably find it fascinating," James insisted. "You can even watch some muggle bands on TV or—"

"TV?" Sirius interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, right, muggles have these boxy things where they show moving pictures!" James explained, gesturing wildly. "It’s kind of like seeing magic happen, but… not. It’s hard to explain."

Lyra had tuned out as James and Peter started explaining to Sirius what a TV was. She was about to read a book that she had brought with her when something caught her eye.

"Hey, Remus... what book is that?" Lyra asked, curiosity etched onto her face.

“This? Oh, it’s Alice in Wonderland.” Remus replied, chuckling softly as he noticed Lyra’s confusion.

“Alice in Wonderland? I’ve never heard of it before, and I’m a hundred percent sure I’ve read every book there is to read,” Lyra said, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Honestly, other than attending lessons that were taught by their mother, Lyra had little to do at home. So, she read anything she could get her hands on.

“It’s a muggle book,” Remus said gently. “My mum got this for me for my birthday. It’s one of my favorites.”

“You can borrow it after I’m done if you want,” Remus offered, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Really?” Lyra asked, her excitement palpable.

“Yeah,” Remus assured her. “It’s a bit strange at first, but it’s worth it.”

"Remus, can I ask you another question?" Lyra asked softly.

"Sure," he chuckled, his easy demeanor relaxing her.

"How did you get those scars?" she inquired, her voice gentle but curious.

"Oh... I, uh—" Remus hesitated for a moment, his expression shifting. "I was in an accident when I was younger."

"Oh... I’m sorry," Lyra said sympathetically, her brow furrowing slightly. She knew he wasn’t telling the truth, but she didn’t want to press further. After all, they had only just met.

Remus gave a small smile, understanding her unspoken sentiment. "It’s alright," he assured her quietly. "It’s not something I talk about often."

Lyra nodded softly, deciding to let it go for now.

"Here, have some." She reached into her pocket, holding out a piece of chocolate. "I stole it from Sirius’s bag when he wasn’t looking," she said, trying to change the subject with a playful grin.

Remus laughed softly, taking the chocolate. "Thank you,"

"No problem," she said, leaning back with a smile. "Now, tell me more about that muggle book."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

It was dark outside when the train finally stopped, and the five of them had quickly changed into their wizarding robes. They made their way out of the train and toward the enormous man yelling, “First years! All first years, come here!”

They took a boat together—Sirius and Lyra sitting side by side in the same boat with James, while Remus and Peter took a separate one. The gentle sway of the boats calmed some, but Lyra still looked down, her hands gripping the sides slightly as Sirius began to shake the boat slightly, causing her to panic.

"Don’t do that!" Lyra snapped, her voice sharp with irritation.

"You won’t fall, you know," Sirius said with a smirk, trying to calm her down.

Lyra was about to retort but stopped herself when she looked up, her breath catching in her throat. The castle loomed before them, its towering spires and glowing windows illuminating the dark sky. It was their first glimpse of Hogwarts, their first taste of freedom.

As they approached the entrance, they were met by a stern-looking woman who introduced herself as “Professor McGonagall.” She instructed them to form a single file line before leading them into the Great Hall. The room was filled with rows of older students, their curious eyes fixed on the new arrivals as they made their way to the front. At the center stood a wooden stool, upon which rested an old, tattered hat.

“When I call your name,” Professor McGonagall began, her voice firm and clear, “step forward, put on the Sorting Hat, and it will determine which house you belong to. Once sorted, join your house table. We will continue in this manner until all first-years have been placed.”

"Abney, Davies."

The atmosphere was thick with a mixture of nerves and excitement, but for Lyra and Sirius, it was something else entirely. Their thoughts were singular and desperate.

*Anything but Slytherin.*

“Black, Lyra.”

Lyra froze, her breath hitching. She turned to Sirius, her eyes wide. He gave her a quick hug, his usual bravado softened by an unspoken understanding.

"You've got this," he whispered. "I'm right here, okay?"

She nodded, swallowing hard, and made her way to the front. The hall seemed impossibly long as she walked toward the Sorting Hat. Her steps felt heavier with each one, but she kept going.

The Sorting Hat was placed on her head, and almost instantly, a voice spoke in her ear.

“A Black!” it mused. “How fascinating. Let’s see… smart and ambitious, no doubt. Loyal and kind, though… And hardworking too. Very interesting, indeed.”

Lyra sat, gripping the edges of the stool tightly, her heart racing. *I’m not like my family. Please, not Slytherin. I’m not like them,* she thought, over and over, willing the Hat to understand.

The Hat chuckled. “Ah, I see. Not like your family, you say. You want to prove yourself—stand apart. Hmm, but Slytherin would make you great, you know…”

"No," Lyra thought fiercely. "I don’t care about greatness. I care about being free."

There was a pause, and for what felt like an eternity, the Hat deliberated. Finally, its voice boomed through the hall:

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The Great Hall erupted in applause, the Gryffindor table cheering the loudest. Lyra let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and slid off the stool, her legs slightly shaky as she made her way toward the table draped in scarlet and gold. A wave of relief washed over her, though she still felt the eyes of her fellow first years—and the older Slytherins—boring into her as she walked.

The Gryffindor students greeted her warmly, some patting her on the back as she sat down. She glanced back at Sirius, who stood waiting by the stool, his face a mix of pride and anticipation.

Professor McGonagall’s voice rang out again. “Black, Sirius.”

Sirius gave Lyra a quick thumbs-up and strode confidently to the stool, though Lyra could see the tension in his shoulders. He sat down, and the Sorting Hat was placed on his head.

“Another Black!” the hat said, louder this time, drawing murmurs from the hall. “My, my, what is happening this year? Courage, rebellion, and… oh, the fire within you burns bright.”

Sirius tilted his head slightly, his jaw tightening. "Not Slytherin," he thought fiercely. "Anywhere but Slytherin."

The hat paused, considering. “You, too, could do well in Slytherin, you know. Great potential for cunning and leadership. But… your heart is set, isn’t it?”

Sirius gritted his teeth. "Anywhere but there."

“Very well,” the hat said decisively. “GRYFFINDOR!”

Sirius grinned as he pulled the hat off and hopped off the stool, the Gryffindor table erupting in cheers once again. He made his way to Lyra, plopping down beside her with a triumphant smirk.

“Told you we’d be fine,” he whispered, nudging her shoulder.

Lyra smiled, the knot in her chest loosening for the first time since they had boarded the train. “Yeah,”

As Lyra and Sirius sat at the Gryffindor table, clapping along as James was enthusiastically sorted into their house, a creeping realization settled over them like a shadow. The cheers around them felt distant, muffled by the weight of their thoughts.

Peter was next, shuffled nervously to the stool. “GRYFFINDOR!” the hat declared, earning polite applause from his new housemates. Remus followed shortly after, his quiet confidence evident despite his shy demeanor. The hat took only a moment to shout “GRYFFINDOR!” to a roar of approval from the Gryffindor table.

Lyra watched him join their table, smiling softly as he took a seat next to them. She clapped along, trying to push down the gnawing thought that had been growing ever since her name was called. Beside her, Sirius shifted uncomfortably, his usual confidence dimmed.

The truth was undeniable: their parents were not going to like this.

Among the many unspoken—and spoken—rules in the Black household, one of the most damning was associating with Gryffindors, let alone being *in* Gryffindor. For as long as they could remember, they had been told that Gryffindors were brash, impulsive, and reckless. *Traitors* to the values of pure-blood supremacy their family upheld with an iron will. The shame of their placement would be unimaginable in the eyes of their parents.

Sirius leaned closer to Lyra, his voice low. “Mother is going to hate this.”
Lyra nodded, her fingers tightening around the locket in her pocket. “I don’t think hate can even describe what she’ll be feeling.”

Sirius gave a soft snort, though the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. “They already think we’re weird,” he muttered, his voice laced with bitterness. “This just gives them more reasons to say it.”

Lyra looked down at her lap, the edges of her locket digging into her fingers as her thoughts swirled. “I wouldn’t put it past them to tell us not to come home for Christmas,” she said quietly, her voice tight with worry.

There was a strange kind of freedom in being away from Grimmauld Place, away from their family’s oppressive expectations. Yet, that freedom came at a price—disappointment. They both knew that no matter how much they embraced who they were, it would never be enough to satisfy their parents’ vision for them.

“I don’t care if they don’t speak to us,” Sirius said, though there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone. “But it still stings. Not knowing… not hearing from them.”

Lyra squeezed his hand gently under the table. “Me neither. It’s not like we haven’t been expecting it. They’ve been pushing us toward Slytherin our whole lives.”

Sirius huffed a breath, shaking his head slightly. “It’s just… different when it’s real. When it’s happening.”

“What about Regulus?”

Sirius glanced at Lyra, his expression softening. “Regulus… I don’t know. I guess it’s different for him. He’s younger, he’s still under their control. But once he gets older, it’ll be the same for him too.”

Lyra bit her lip, her worry deepening. “What if he tries to visit us? Or write to us? What if they won’t let him?”

“We’ll find a way,” Sirius said with determination, though his voice was laced with uncertainty. “Maybe we’ll sneak letters back and forth or something. He won’t let them hold him back like they’ve done to us.”

“But what if—” Lyra started, but Sirius cut her off gently.

“We’ll figure it out,” he promised, squeezing her hand tightly. “No matter what, we won’t leave him behind. He’s our brother.”

They watched as the last name was called, and the room slowly began to fill with conversations and the clinking of plates. The Gryffindor house was loud, lively, and filled with warmth, but the looming shadow of disappointment from their family was never far from their minds.

“It just… feels like we’re leaving everything behind. Even if it’s for the better.”

Sirius gave Lyra a reassuring nudge. “We’re leaving what *they* want behind, not who we are.”

Still, the fear lingered. They could create a new life at Hogwarts, but at what cost? The sense of loss was real, no matter how free they felt in this moment.

The twins were pulled back to the present by Professor McGonagall’s voice, calling for the students' attention. “Now, before we begin our feast, Headmaster Dumbledore would like to say a few words.”

"As many of you know, I am Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. To those returning, I say: welcome back. To our new students, welcome! It is with great joy that I stand before you tonight, looking out at all of you, eager to learn—or, perhaps, at this hour, eager to eat! I will keep my remarks brief, as I’m sure you’re all aware, the Dark Forest is off-limits to students unless they’re prepared to face grave danger. Additionally, I am delighted to share that Hogwarts has a new addition: a magnificent, towering Whomping Willow on the grounds. While it adds beauty to our surroundings, it is also quite dangerous, with a tendency to viciously strike anyone who comes too close. I would strongly advise you to steer clear of it."

Remus glanced over at Lyra as she fidgeted with her locket, her expression troubled. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.

She hesitated for a moment, her fingers lingering on the familiar locket in her hands. Its cool surface seemed heavier than it should have been, as though it carried the weight of something unspoken. "Yeah... I'm alright," she said, her voice quieter than usual.

Remus studied her carefully, his kind eyes searching for the truth behind her words. He hesitated before offering her a gentle smile. "Alright then. I just wanted to, um, check, because you seemed a little... troubled. That's all."

Her gaze flicked up to meet his, and for a moment, something vulnerable passed between them. Then she nodded, her lips curving into a softer, more genuine smile. "I'm fine. Thank you for asking, though, Remus."

"Now enough talking, let us feast!" Dumbledore announced with a cheerful grin.

The chatter in the Great Hall resumed, and the sound of silverware clinking against plates filled the air. Despite the looming thoughts of her family’s disappointment, Lyra found comfort in the companionship of her new friends. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to fully enjoy the feast, letting go of her worries, at least for the moment.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

As the first years made their way to their dormitories, Lyra walked a few paces behind Sirius, James, and Remus. The three boys were deep in conversation, with Sirius and James animatedly explaining Quidditch to Remus, who looked both intrigued and slightly overwhelmed.

“Pauvre Remus,” Lyra chuckled to herself, watching as her brother and James bombarded the poor boy with all their knowledge of the wizarding sport.

“Je sais, je ne pense pas avoir déjà vu quelqu’un d’aussi effrayé,” Peter said from her right, his quiet voice laced with humor. [I know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so scared.]

“Tu avais exactement la même tête quand—” Lyra began absentmindedly, before stopping mid-sentence and turning to stare at Peter in surprise. “Attends, tu parles français?” [You looked exactly the same when—wait, you speak French?]

Peter looked sheepish, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Yeah, I learned it myself. I find languages interesting,” he admitted, shrugging slightly.

Lyra’s eyes widened in admiration. “That’s so cool! I would never be able to learn a new language completely on my own,” she said enthusiastically.

Peter offered her a shy smile, clearly pleased by her reaction. “It wasn’t easy, but I liked the challenge. My mum says it keeps my mind busy.”

“Well, I think it’s amazing,” Lyra said earnestly. “What other languages can you speak?”

Peter hesitated for a moment before replying, “Well, I speak a bit of German... my grandparents are from there.”

Lyra’s face lit up with curiosity. “That’s so cool! Maybe you can teach me some words sometime. Then we can tell each other stuff in our own language if we don’t want *them* listening in.” She gestured toward the three boys walking ahead of them, mainly Sirius and James, who were still animatedly debating Quidditch strategies.

She had only known James for a few hours, but it was already clear to her that between him and Sirius, they were destined to become a duo that would inevitably drive her up the wall.

Peter laughed, his grin widening as he caught onto her idea. “Deal. I’ll teach you, and we can have our own secret code.”

“Perfect,” Lyra said with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I have a feeling we’re going to need it sooner than later.”

The two shared a conspiratorial smile, already forming a quiet bond amidst the chaos of the group. As Sirius’s voice rose over James’s, passionately defending his favorite Quidditch team, Lyra shook her head with an exasperated smile. “See what I mean?” she whispered to Peter.

As they approached their dormitories, the group came to a halt in front of a portrait of a rather plump woman dressed in pink silk. She was perched against a lavish background of painted roses, her expression one of mild amusement as she eyed the group of first-years.

“Everyone, this is The Fat Lady,” the prefect announced with a small gesture toward the portrait.

“Hello,” the woman greeted them, her voice warm but authoritative. “Password?”

“Bumfuzzle,” the prefect replied promptly.

The portrait swung open, revealing the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. The prefect turned back to the group. “Remember this password. Without it, you won’t be able to enter the common room. The password changes every few weeks, so be sure to keep up.”

As the first-years exchanged glances, a few of them murmuring the unusual word to themselves to commit it to memory, Sirius leaned toward Lyra and whispered, “Bumfuzzle? Who comes up with these things?”

Lyra stifled a laugh. “Probably someone who thought it would be hilarious to watch us say it over and over again.” She glanced to her left, where James had doubled over, leaning onto Peter for support as he laughed uncontrollably. “Bumfuzzle…” he repeated between fits of giggles.

“Is he okay?” Remus asked as he walked up beside Sirius and Lyra. The three of them watched as Peter struggled to pull James upright and nudge him forward, clearly exasperated but unable to stifle a grin himself.

“Come on,” the prefect called out, motioning them through the entrance. “Your dormitories are just upstairs.”

The group finally filed into the common room, and a collective gasp escaped as they took in their surroundings. It was cozy and inviting, with armchairs and sofas gathered around a large, roaring fireplace. The warm light flickered off the richly embroidered tapestries adorning the walls, and the air carried the faint scent of burning wood and parchment. Everything about the room exuded a sense of comfort and belonging.

“Wow,” James said, his awe temporarily overriding his earlier antics. His eyes roamed the room as he spun slowly in place. “This is brilliant.”

“It’s better than I imagined,” Lyra murmured softly. For the first time, she felt like she was truly home. Sure, Grimmauld Place was her home, but it never quite felt like one.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, his voice awed as he stood beside her, taking in the warmth and beauty of the common room. “It’s amazing.”

“This side are the girls’ dormitories, and here are the boys’ dormitories,” the prefect informed them, gesturing down separate hallways. “You’ve been assigned rooms, and your names will be on the doors.”

Lyra turned to the four boys, who were still standing in awe. “Well, looks like we should head to our rooms,” she said with a soft smile.

"Yeah, I guess so," Sirius replied with a small nod.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," she said as she bid goodbye to the rest of the boys. Before she headed up, she gave Sirius a quick hug. "Goodnight, Sirius."

The four of them shouted after her as she walked up the stairs. "Goodnight, Lyra!"

Lyra stopped in front of the door with her name on it. Below it, there were three other names: Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon and Mary Macdonald. Though she was excited to meet her roommates, a wave of nervousness washed over her. She was going to be sharing the room with them for the next seven years—what if they didn’t like her?

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

“Hi!” a girl with red hair greeted her warmly. “I’m Lily Evans!”

“I’m Lyra Black,” Lyra said with a smile as the other two girls began introducing themselves.

“I’m Marlene McKinnon,” the blonde-haired girl said cheerfully. She had a bright, carefree demeanor that instantly put Lyra at ease.

“And I’m Mary, Mary Macdonald,” the girl with dark brown hair said with a shy smile. Her quiet presence balanced the more outgoing energy in the room, but her warmth was evident in her soft voice.

Lyra’s nerves eased slightly as she exchanged smiles with each of her roommates. “It’s nice to meet you all,” she said genuinely, the weight of her anxiety lifting with every introduction.

“Same here,” Lily said warmly.

“We were just unpacking,” Marlene added, gesturing to her neatly arranged trunk at the side of the room. “Feel free to put your things wherever you’d like.”

Lyra slowly unpacked her belongings, placing each item with care on her bed or the nearby shelves. As she sifted through her things, her fingers brushed against a small, framed photograph.

The picture was of three children—Lyra, Sirius, and Regulus—laughing together, their faces lit up with pure joy. The photo had been taken during a trip out with their cousins, something they managed to pull off unsupervised for the first time. They were free to roam, explore, and enjoy the world without the constraints of their strict upbringing. It was a memory of innocence, a rare moment where they could simply be kids, without expectations or rules hanging over them.

Lyra smiled softly at the photograph, her fingers tracing the edges gently. That day had been a turning point for them—a moment where they truly felt like a family. She missed those carefree days sometimes, but in that moment, the warmth of those memories enveloped her.

"Who's that?" a voice suddenly broke the quiet moment from behind her.

"Merlin, you scared me," Lyra exclaimed, her hand clutching her chest as she turned around to see Lily standing behind her with a curious expression. She placed the framed photograph carefully onto her bedside table, her fingers lingering on the edge of the glass.

"Those are my brothers," Lyra said softly, a warmth in her voice. "That’s Regulus, my younger brother, and Sirius—he’s my twin brother."

Lily’s eyes widened, and a smile tugged at her lips. “You’re a twin? That must be so cool!”

Lyra laughed softly, her gaze drifting back to the photograph for a moment. “It’s not always as glamorous as it sounds. Sharing everything from the moment we were born can get… intense.”

“But still, you’ve always had someone who knows you inside and out,” Lily said thoughtfully, her voice gentle. “That’s something special.”

“Yeah,” Lyra agreed, her expression softening.

“But Sirius must drive you crazy sometimes,” Lily teased with a playful grin.

“Constantly,” Lyra admitted with a small laugh. “But it’s a love-hate relationship. He’s infuriating, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Lily nodded in understanding, her own smile genuine. “I get that. My older sister, Petunia, and I bicker nonstop, but she’s still my family.”

"You have an older sister? That must be fun. I've always wanted a sister," Lyra said with a warm smile, her eyes lighting up at the thought.

Lily’s expression softened, and she nodded. "It is. Sometimes she drives me crazy, like when she borrows my things without asking, but we always find ways to make up. It's nice having someone who understands you, even when you don’t get along all the time."

"I can imagine," Lyra said thoughtfully. "Regulus is the only one who doesn’t drive me mad all the time, but even then, we have our moments. Sirius, on the other hand…" She trailed off with a teasing smirk.

"How annoying is this Sirius, because you've mentioned him twice now," Lily said with a playful smirk, her laughter soft but genuine.

"Oh don't worry, you'll meet him tomorrow," Lyra replied with a teasing grin. "Trust me, he will drive you mad."

They both burst into laughter at the thought of Sirius’s antics.

As the two girls continued to laugh, Lyra's gaze shifted to the small radio sitting on Lily's bedside table. "Hey, what is that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued as she pointed at it.

Lily glanced over and smiled. "Oh, this? It’s a radio. It’s how we listen to music and the news at home." She picked it up, turning it slightly to show Lyra. "It’s pretty neat, right? Sometimes, I bring it along to help me wind down or just to hear something different."

"Wait, you've never seen a radio?" Marlene asked as the girls gathered onto Lyra's bed, their curiosity piqued.

"No," Lyra admitted, looking down slightly ashamed. "My family's not really a fan of muggles or muggle items."

"You’ve never heard of Led Zeppelin?!" Marlene exclaimed, her eyes wide in surprise.

"No… not in particular," Lyra said softly. "Who is this Led Zeppelin guy anyway? James was just talking about him on the train."

"You’ve never listened to muggle music?" Mary asked, her tone filled with disbelief.

"No, how different could it be anyway?" Lyra replied with a shrug.

"Lyra, trust me, it’s different," Lily said, smiling warmly as she picked up the radio. "Come on, let’s listen. I think you’ll like it."

"Yeah, turn the radio on!" Marlene exclaimed, her excitement evident as she bounced slightly on the bed. Mary stood beside her, nodding enthusiastically, her curly hair bouncing with every motion.

Lily chuckled and adjusted the dial, the static fading as soft, melodic guitar notes began to play. A familiar voice soon followed, singing about love and freedom.

"See? This is 'Love Grows” by Edison Lighthouse" Lily said, her eyes sparkling.

Lyra listened intently, her expression softening as the music washed over her. The world seemed to dim, and for a moment, it was just the melody and her thoughts. "It’s... nice," she murmured, a small smile forming on her lips. "Different, but nice."

"Different but amazing!" Marlene chimed in, grinning widely. "You’re going to love it, Lyra."

"Come on!" Mary said with a bright smile, pulling Lyra to her feet. The other girls quickly joined in, Marlene and Lily laughing as they grabbed hands and began spinning around the room.

The four girls were soon lost in the music, their laughter and the rhythm of the song filling the air. They danced carefree, twirling and bouncing with joy, their earlier worries and doubts forgotten in the moment.

Lyra felt lighter than she had in days. The music was unlike anything she had ever experienced, and it brought a sense of freedom she hadn’t known before. She laughed freely, her movements becoming more fluid, her body moving with the beat of the song.

"See? Told you it was fun!" Marlene shouted over the music, her grin wide as she spun Mary around.

"Yeah, this is amazing!" Lyra called out, a huge smile plastered across her face. She twirled and jumped, feeling an energy she hadn’t known existed before.

The dance went on, the four girls becoming a whirlwind of movement, laughter, and pure joy. The room seemed to come alive, the music acting as a catalyst for their newfound bond. For the first time, Lyra felt truly free—untethered from the judgments and constraints that had followed her throughout her life. She could be herself, fully and openly, and no one would make her feel ashamed for it.

“This is just the beginning,” Lyra said softly to herself, a dreamy smile playing on her lips. She glanced around at her new friends, their faces lit with joy and carefree laughter. "And I’m never going back.”