Puzzle Pieces
Lyra:
Lyra isn't sure what she can do to spend time with Charlie. She tried just hanging around, hoping he would say something to fill the silence or maybe suggest some books about creatures. Not that it helped much.
Tonks, her cousin with whom Lyra isn't very close, is friends with Charlie, and she found herself spending time with the older girl. That didn't make things any less awkward. Every conversation felt a bit forced, with both teenagers seemingly wondering why Lyra was there.
Tonks always seemed to have a somewhat cautious look around the Black heiress. Not hostile, but wary. Lyra wasn't sure what had caused it, but considering how hectic her life had been since she started her plans—around the time she managed to manipulate Harry's adoption and free her father—she was certain there were plenty of things that could make someone wary of her.
It would be easier if she had something specific to talk about with them. Charlie made an effort, and Tonks tried as well, but it just didn’t work.
Lyra sighed before heading to her self-imposed appointment with Bill. He was almost certainly in the library studying for his NEWTs. The seventh years were frantic with their studies as the final exams approached. That was where Lyra usually spent time with Bill, trying to fulfill her goal of being a good friend.
She felt stressed. No, worse—she felt like one of those Root agents who were so bad at socializing that they were always studying self-help books or interpersonal relationship guides. It was ridiculous! She knew how to interact with people. It wasn’t her fault that it was easier when there was a clear objective guiding the relationship and generating a topic of conversation.
As Hokage, Ryuna had never needed to worry about that. There had always been people coming to her with problems, laws, crises, or needs. Back then, she hadn't struggled to talk to people.
Bill wasn't in the library. She let out a tired sigh before slipping into a recess in the corridor, behind one of the statues, and calling out:
"Twink!" she said, and a house-elf appeared with a small pop. She looked visibly healthier, and her clothes were quite decent, though her subservient attitude was still evident.
"Lady Black! How may Twink be of service to you?" she asked, visibly excited to receive an order.
Lyra hated that. It made her feel dirty, like watching an assault and doing nothing. Her skin always itched whenever she had to interact with elves like this, and she missed her own—they had already learned not to bow. Lyra tried not to let it bother her too much. She knew that Hogwarts' elves were still a work in progress, and it would take time before they were properly reconditioned. Once again, it would be so much easier if she could just order them around like she did with her own elves...
"Do you know where William Weasley is?" she asked in a gentle tone. The last thing she wanted was to undo all her progress by making the elves fear her too soon.
"Hmmm, yes, ma'am!" Twink said, excited to be helpful. "He is by the Black Lake studying, Lady Black!"
That made sense. The weather was pleasant enough, and with all the studying, she imagined he must be missing some fresh air. Maybe she could relax a little while Bill studied?
"Thank you, Twink. That was very kind of you to help me," she said with a smile and a nod before walking away.
"Of course, Lady Black!" the small elf called after her, still behind the statue. "If you need anything, just call!"
A soft pop told her the elf had left, and Lyra relaxed slightly. She walked toward the lake at a leisurely pace. The castle's stone walls gave way to the wide lawn and the blue sky, dotted with a few clouds. A gentle breeze made the rising heat more tolerable.
Bill was there, alone, under a tree. Papers were scattered around him, books open in an organized chaos, and Lyra felt almost at home. She could understand this. She liked this kind of chaos.
"Knock knock," she called and smiled when Bill lifted his eyes from his book.
"Princess!" He grinned when he saw her. He gestured at the mess around him. "Come into my office. I hope you don’t mind the clutter."
"I suppose I can lower myself to such conditions," she teased, raising her nose as she sat down, though a small smile fought to break free.
"I’ll do my best to meet your high standards in the future, Your Highness," he said with a mock bow.
Abandoning the theatrics, Lyra glanced at the books. She had quickly set aside her own and was planning to work on her essays while Bill studied. After that, she would take a short nap until he finished.
"Having trouble?" she asked, vaguely curious.
She doubted she could teach him anything he wasn’t already understanding. There was too much theory and technicality in advanced subjects. Being self-taught, technical terms were a mystery to her.
"Just reviewing some old notes," he said, and Lyra cast a skeptical glance at all the open books, making Bill chuckle. "They’re for reference. Helps me think."
"Alright, I’ll do my homework then," she shrugged before pulling out her notebooks and some books she had borrowed the previous day. One of the many advantages of magic was being able to carry an absurd amount of materials without dealing with the weight ruining her good posture.
She focused on her work, her mind operating mechanically. None of it required much effort—it was mostly about gathering information from reference books recommended by the professors to explain the same things they had discussed in class. The hardest part was finding the exact passage in the book, and even that was something Lyra could do quickly, having years of experience in far more advanced research.
"Are the assignments boring?" Bill broke the comfortable silence. He had a curious look, and Lyra realized he had put away his books without her noticing.
"Depends on what you define as easy," she replied.
"Hmm, explain," Bill tilted his head, intrigued.
"All they ask me to do is explain, in my own words, the rules of a given spell, like the Principle of Transfiguration, where matter cannot be created from nothing. It’s almost a transcription from the book and doesn’t require much thought, but I still have to read it to find the right passage and rewrite it in my own words. So, I guess you could say it takes some effort," she explained, pointing to the section of the book she was using as a reference. "But there’s no questioning why that happens. After all, magic is based on breaking the natural order, so why is this the limit? Or maybe I could try relating it to Muggle physics, like Lavoisier’s Law of Conservation of Mass, published in 1760, over two hundred years ago, and draw a connection between how Muggles arrived at the same conclusion using science. That would actually require me to think and research on my own, and—"
"You would’ve enjoyed it more that way, wouldn’t you? Something that makes you think outside the box," Bill asked, resting his cheek on his fist as he listened.
"It’s not like I wouldn’t have to study the fundamentals and laws of magic for that. I just wouldn’t be repeating what others have already said," she murmured. Lyra sighed. "Are you heading back to the castle soon?"
"Not yet. We still have some time before it gets dark," Bill said, settling under the shade of the tree and using his bag, stuffed with books, as a rather uncomfortable pillow. Lyra smirked before casting a wandless spell to make his backpack softer. Bill blinked before smiling at her. "Oh, Your Highness, I’m honored that you extend your mercy to us common folk."
"My nobility knows no bounds," she retorted before trying to refocus on her assignment. But the words seemed to dance on the page. She was exhausted, sleeping less and less each night.
"And that makes twelve. One more, and we’ll have a problem. They say thirteen is bad luck," Bill remarked.
Lyra lifted her head, frowning in confusion. "What?"
"Twelve sighs. One more, and we might accidentally summon a demon or something," Bill explained with complete seriousness.
"Is that an actual rule? Some magical rules sound like jokes but turn out to be serious," Lyra said, still confused. She tried to explain her reasoning because it didn’t make much sense even to her, and since Bill couldn’t read her mind, he wouldn’t understand either. "Like, there’s a cleaning spell people can use on themselves or their clothes, but even so, everyone still has to take baths. Why? Everyone just seems to accept that you should bathe even if you use cleaning spells. I mean, I like taking baths—they’re refreshing, not just cleansing—but shouldn’t they technically be unnecessary? It’s so confusing."
Bill started laughing. Apparently, her ramblings were amusing. Maybe she could try them on Charlie and Tonks next week when she attempted to spend more time with them again.
"I don’t know, to be honest. There are so many things that are so normal to us that we just never question them," Bill said. "Remember when we started learning Fight Club? You just said we could break our opponent’s wand, and after you said it, it was obvious, but it had never crossed my mind. The wand is such a constant in our lives, something almost sacred, that the idea of deliberately breaking one feels like sacrilege. I think there are a lot of things like that—things nobody really questions because they’re just normal."
"Hmph, Muggles are better than wizards at that," she scoffed. Lyra sat cross-legged, setting aside her assignment until she had rested enough to read the text properly. "They question everything. Why do things fall down? Why does it rain? Why do we gain weight when we eat? Why does ice float on water? Why do substances boil at different temperatures? Why does food spoil? Why is the sky blue? What does Earth look like from space? Is there life on other planets? So many things, and wizards don’t think about any of them!"
"And yet, they call Muggles underdeveloped, inferior," Bill agreed with a scoff. "But we’re the ones stuck in time. Muggles advanced, they created things, destroyed things too, but they changed. They’re still changing, and we’re just here, stagnant."
"Water must always keep flowing," Lyra recited the old saying. "Like a whirlpool."
"That’s one way to put it," Bill chuckled.
The silence that followed was comfortable. Since she wasn’t going to finish her assignments at that moment anyway, Lyra decided she might as well lie down for a bit. But then Bill seemed thoughtful—worried, even—as he looked at her.
"Why are you trying so hard to spend time with everyone if it’s making you this exhausted, Lia?" He turned on his side to keep looking at her, waiting for an answer.
"Uh… W-what do you mean? I’m just trying to be a better friend, I—" And this was exactly why she wrote down everything she planned to say before meetings.
"My brothers don’t mind if you only show up every now and then, Princess," he said gently. "It’s okay if it’s just when you have a reason."
"But that’s not right," she protested, uncomfortable. They shouldn’t have to accommodate her.
"Stop trying to fit into what people consider a ‘normal’ friendship," Bill said, rolling his eyes. "It’s okay to be weird—we all are, a little. Maybe you’re not the most present friend, but when you’re with us, you have an impact on our lives. When we tell you our problems or dreams, we know you’re really listening. That’s more than what most ‘normal’ friends do, so stop trying to change yourself into what you think you should be, Lia. People aren’t puzzle pieces; we’re not meant to fit together perfectly."
Lyra closed her eyes, turning his words over in her mind. She remembered how people in Konoha were exactly like that—pieces that didn’t fit perfectly but learned to be happy as they were. No wonder so many jounin were eccentric, maybe even a little crazy. People simply learned to live with each other’s oddities.
Maybe that’s what she missed. What was so normal in Konoha required effort here. Her friends wanted to accommodate her, but Charlie and Tonks’ situation showed that it wasn’t just about wanting. They were used to a ‘normal’ she didn’t quite fit into. Charlie’s awkward attempts at conversation came to mind, and Lyra felt a small smile tug at her lips.
Yes, irregular pieces.
"Yeah, I think you’re right."
"Of course I am. I’m always right," Bill teased, getting comfortable again.
"So humble," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Thank you."
"And hilarious," she added dryly.
"You’re making me blush." She could hear the grin in his voice.
"I should make you bald," she threatened.
"Maybe that would help tone down my overwhelming beauty," he said seriously. "Make people feel better about themselves."
"You think I won’t do it?" Lyra lifted her head, narrowing her eyes at the redhead. He immediately put on a vaguely cautious expression, though not enough to wipe the smirk off his face. "I’m a woman of my word."
"A girl," he corrected.
"What?"
"A girl of your word," he clarified.
"Fuck you, Weasley."
"Language, Princess!" he gasped, feigning offense.
"Bill, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to shove my foot so far up your ass it’ll come out of your mouth," she said, deadpan.
"How improper… Wait—hey, why are you getting up? Hold on… AH, WAIT!"
Chasing Bill across the field instead of napping was fine. It had been an afternoon well spent.