free now

Interlude– I

the one with the first date

'Cause you already know what you mean to me
And our love's the only warworth fighting for

Summer was boring, or at least, that's what Lyra Malfoy would have told you if you asked. It stretched on, an endless string of uneventful days, and being an only child meant there wasn’t much to do. Her parents had been arguing more than usual lately, their heated voices echoing through the manor until one of them—usually her mother—would cast a silencing spell.

Her father was almost never around, and Lyra didn’t need to be a genius to know where he was. Her mother sometimes accompanied him, but more recently, Narcissa had taken up gardening to pass her time.

Telling her mother about her new secret boyfriend? Well, that certainly wasn’t happening anytime soon.

It was on one of these boring, never-ending summer days when Lyra decided that if she was going to have any fun at all, she'd have to make it happen herself. Seize the day, as Blaise always said. The boy had a point.

"Mother!" she called out, but was met with silence, unsurprisingly. Millie, the Malfoy family’s smallest house-elf, appeared with a soft pop.

"Does Little Miss need something? Millie is almost done with breakfasr."

Lyra smiled. "You know what, Millie, I think I’m going out. Where’s Mother?"

"Mistress Malfoy is in the gardens, Miss," Millie answered before vanishing with another soft pop, leaving Lyra to shake her head. Sometimes she envied the house-elves' ability to disappear from awkward conversations like that.

She found Narcissa in the garden, hands dirtied with soil, her usually impeccable robes streaked with mud. Lyra could almost picture her late grandfather having a heart attack at the sight of Narcissa Malfoy—née Black—on her knees pulling weeds.

"Mother?" she said softly, stepping closer. “Mother,” she spoke softly, “May I go to Blaise’s house? He’s been inviting me.”

“Huh? Yeah– Yes, dear,” Her mother snapped out of her thoughts, her facing almost aging as she looked at her daughter. “Are you okay, darling?”

"I was wondering if I could go to Blaise’s house for the day. He’s been inviting me."

"Mm-hm," Narcissa hummed absentmindedly, pruning a rose bush. "Just be back before dinner."

That was that, apparently. Lyra sighed internally. No further questions. Not that she minded—Narcissa was lost in her gardening, which suited Lyra’s plan perfectly.

Of course, going to Blaise’s was never the plan. The Floo powder took her to Diagon Alley, where she quickly hailed a taxi with some of the emergency money her mother had given her. As the streets of central London faded into the more suburban setting of Privet Drive, Lyra felt a flutter of nerves. She wasn’t often nervous, but showing up unannounced at Harry’s house was risky, even by her standards.

The taxi pulled up in front of number four, and she paid the driver before making her way to the door. She knocked, her heart racing, ready to see Harry.

But the boy who opened the door was definitely not Harry. In fact, he looked as different from Harry as humanely possible.

"Uh, hi?" the boy stammered, blinking down at her with wide eyes.

She smiled, turning back to check she was at the right house. Lyra tilted her head. "Hello… Is this number four Privet Drive?"

"Yeah," the boy—who had to be at least twice Harry’s size—nodded. "Are you here for me?"

The boy’s eyes widened, as if surprised that the girl was actually at the right place. “Yes. Yes it is. Are you here for me?”

“Considering I have never met you, absolutely not.” She tilted her head, confused. “I am sorry, are you related to Harry? Harry Potter?”

The boy’s expression soured immediately. "Harry? What do you want with him?"

"Well, he is my boyfriend, so if you could just—"

"Your what?" His eyes bugged out. "You’re one of those… wizo people, aren’t you? One of his weird friends?"

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "You mean a wizard? Close, but no. I’m a witch, obviously and I am not his friend, I am his girlfriend." She smirked at him, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Now, do be a good boy and fetch Harry for me."

The boy sneered, looking her up and down. "I’m not an errand boy, and you’re just a freak like him."

Lyra’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it sharpened. "Sweetheart, I can blow your brains out in three seconds flat. Now, be useful and get Harry before I turn you into something more useful, like a toad."

Dudley’s face went as pale as a sheet. “You… you can’t do magic out here. You’re not allowed!”

Her smirk widened. “Maybe not, but who’s going to stop me if I do?”

“Who is it, Dudleykins?” A feminine voice rang from behind the big boy, “Do we have a guest?”

“Mum, this is––“

A thin, horse-faced woman appeared in the doorway, who Lyra assumed must be Harry’s aunt, “Well, is this your girlfriend? Invite her in!”

Dudleykins blushed immediately but Lyra winced at the thought. Before the boy could answer, Lyra took over, all politeness and charm– she wasn't going to offend Harry's relatives. Too much.

 “No. I am here for Harry. I am Lyra Malfoy.”

The woman’s welcoming face suddenly twisted up, glaring at the girl. “What do you want with him?”

"Lyra? Is that you?" Harry stepped into view, surprise evident on his face. "What are you doing here?"

Lyra’s entire expression softened at the sight of him. "Came to see you, obviously. Fancy a day out?"

“Uh, yes?” Harry answered, still confused as he pushed past his aunt and cousin. “But does your father know–”

“No, he doesn’t know I am here and well... I told my mum I am with Blaise. I wanted to spend the day with you.”

Harry smiled at her, “I– I’d like that.” He turned to his aunt, “Aunt Petunia, I’ll be back later.”

"Boy!" Aunt Petunia shrieked. "Where do you think you’re going?"

Harry grabbed Lyra’s hand. "On a date with my girlfriend. Bye!" He tugged her past his stunned relatives, and they left the house behind.

As they walked down the quiet street, Harry chuckled under his breath. "They’re never going to believe I have a girlfriend."

Lyra smirked up at him. "Well, now they know."

Lyra’s heart raced as Harry led her down the path. They had left Privet Drive and the watchful eyes of the Dursley's behind, the houses growing smaller as they walked towards a small park at the edge of the neighborhood. The grass was overgrown, the swings rusted, but it didn’t matter. This was the first time they had been alone together outside of school, no magic, no Hogwarts, just Harry and Lyra.

Harry stopped under a large tree, its branches casting a wide shadow over the ground, shielding them from the bright summer sun. He sat down first, gesturing for Lyra to join him.

“Finally,” Lyra breathed as she sat beside him, stretching her legs out. “I didn’t think I’d ever get out of the house today.”

Harry chuckled softly. “I can’t believe you lied about going to Blaise’s.”

She smirked, leaning back against the tree. “I never said I was perfect. Besides, if I told my mum I was visiting you, she’d have a heart attack. Better to stick to the Blaise story for now.”

Harry tilted his head to the side, looking at her with soft amusement. “And what would Blaise think about you using him as an excuse?”

“Oh, Blaise would probably approve,” Lyra said with a laugh. “He’s always telling me to do whatever I want and figure out the consequences later.”

Harry grinned. “Sounds like he’s a good friend.”

“He is,” she agreed. “But I’m glad I’m here with you today.”

"Me too," he admitted, getting close to her and giving her a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Your family’s… nice,” she teased.

Harry chuckled darkly. “You’re being way too generous. They’re not really my family, at least not in the way that matters.”

She tilted her head, watching him carefully. “Has your cousin always been like that?”

“Yup,” Harry said, his tone dry. “As long as I can remember.”

Lyra let out a low whistle. “What’s his deal?”

Harry leaned forward slightly, as if he were about to share a secret. “Well, to be really frank…” He paused dramatically. “Dudley is just... a dick.”

Lyra burst into laughter, her shoulders shaking. “Well, that was straightforward.”

“I thought you’d appreciate the honesty,” Harry said, grinning.

"I thought he was about to faint when he saw me at the door.” The girl admitted with a laugh.

“I think you scared him,” Harry said, his voice light but with an undertone of satisfaction. “He’s not used to pretty witches showing up unannounced.”

“His loss,” Lyra quipped, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “He should get used to it if you’re going to have friends over, especially your brilliant girlfriend.”

When the laughter died down, Lyra leaned back, letting out a contented sigh. “I can’t believe you have to live with them.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s not great, but it’s what I’ve got for now. Hopefully, one day I’ll get out of there for good.”

Lyra turned her head towards him, her expression softening. “Maybe you can come live with me. I’ll hide you from the world.”

Harry smiled warmly at her suggestion, his eyes sparkling with affection. “That is a nice thought, hidden away with you.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a moment, the breeze rustling through the leaves above them. Lyra kicked off her shoes, her bare feet sinking into the cool grass, and glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye.

“How bad was it? Growing up with them, I mean,” she asked quietly, breaking the silence.

Harry hesitated, staring out at the empty park. “Bad. I was pretty much ignored when I wasn’t being punished for something stupid, like breathing too loudly. Dudley and his friends used me as their personal punching bag most days. I actually lived in a cupboard under the stairs for almost eleven years. I didn’t even know I was a wizard until I got my Hogwarts letter.”

Lyra felt her chest tighten, a mixture of anger and sadness washing over her. “That’s horrible, Harry. No one deserves to grow up like that.”

"Can't do anything about it," Harry looked down, "Dumbledore said I have to be of legal age before I can leave."

"Maybe I can them hex them," Lyra shrugged.

The boy laughed, "Maybe after graduating from Hogwarts we can do it together. Besides, I survived,” he said softly, shrugging. “And then I met you.”

Lyra’s face softened, her heart swelling at his words. “And then you met me,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.  “I just wish you didn’t have to handle it alone.”

“I don’t anymore,” Harry said, looking at her meaningfully. “I’ve got people who care now."

"I care a lot about you."

A smile tugged at his lips, though there was still a sadness in his expression. “It helps,” he said softly, then shifted the topic. “And there’s Sirius. He’s the closest thing I’ve got to family, really.”

Lyra smiled softly, her eyes lighting up at the mention of Sirius Black. She knew all about his story now, how Harry had helped prove his innocence, but she had yet to meet him herself. “I can’t believe you get to talk to him regularly. I really wish I could meet him one day.”

Harry looked at her with a gentle smile. “You’d like him. He’s a bit reckless, but he’s got a good heart. He’s always looking out for me now. I think you’d get along."

Lyra nodded, her expression wistful. “I hope so. From everything you’ve told me, he sounds amazing. I’m glad you’ve got him in your life now. It must make things a bit less… lonely.”

Harry paused for a moment, as if contemplating his next words. “It’s weird, you know? For so long, I thought I had no one. No family, no one to care about me. But now… now I’ve got him and Ron and Hermione and well, you. Little Harry would be really surprised."

Lyra snickered, "By the fact that you have a girlfriend?"

"Oh, definitely."

“So,” he said, glancing sideways at her, “do you think we should tell anyone… about us?”

Lyra’s expression grew thoughtful, and she chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t know… I mean, I trust you, but I’m not sure how your friends will take it. Especially that's darned, red-headed weasel. He’s…” she trailed off, making a face.

Harry caught her expression and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like Ron, do you?”

"What gave it away?" Then Lyra hesitated, before sighing. “It’s not that I dislike him, exactly. It’s just… we were both brought up so differently, and my father, well he despises Mr Weasley. And sometimes Weasley says things that just—ugh. He’s a bit much.”

Harry laughed. “That’s Ron. He can be a lot, but he means well. Really”

“I’m sure he does, to you,” Lyra replied. “But I think it’s better if we keep things between us for now. Besides, you know how people talk. We don’t need the whole school knowing.”

Harry nodded in agreement, though there was a slight tinge of disappointment in his voice. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just hate keeping secrets from my friends, that’s all.”

“I get that, I am really sorry you have to.” Lyra said gently, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “But we’ll figure it out. There’s no rush.”

After a pause, Harry asked, “So, Blaise knows?”

Lyra groaned, letting her head drop back against the tree. “Oh, yeah. He knows. I kind of freaked out after… well, after we kissed, and he was the only one I could talk to about it. He panicked with me.”

Harry grinned. “I can’t imagine Blaise Zabini panicking over anything.”

“Oh, he did,” Lyra assured him with a smirk. “It was a mess. We were both freaking out, and it was ridiculous. At one point I even asked him about the possibility of you probably laughing about the kiss to your friends and then, he very helpfully pointed out that he has never kissed you and that thus, he wouldn't know." 

Harry laughed lightly, but Lyra face lit up with a smile as she admitted, "But he’s been really supportive. He’s… well, he just knows me better than anyone else. We have been best friends for almost our whole lives.”

“I’m glad,” Harry said, his voice softening. “It’s good that you’ve got him.”

Lyra sighed and leaned back, the conversation drawing her into deeper thoughts. She stared at the sky, watching the clouds float lazily by as her mind wandered. “You know… it’s funny. I’ve had a crush on you for longer than I’d care to admit.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, surprise etched on his face. “Really? Since when?”

“Before we even met,” she admitted, feeling her face grow warm. “I heard all these stories about you—The Boy Who Lived, the hero of the Wizarding World. I used to imagine what you’d be like. And then we met at Madam Malkin’s, and I was like, a total dementor to be honest and then we met on the train again and I though, ‘Oh. So this is Harry Potter.’”

Harry chuckled. “Was I a disappointment?”

Lyra rolled her eyes but smiled. “No, not at first. You were just… real. Not some storybook character. You were actually better than what I’d imagined before, I– well before I started to hate you, immensely.”

Harry seemed genuinely touched by her previous words though. “I had no idea you felt that way before.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Lyra said, laughing at herself. “I was too busy pretending not to care. Besides, it’s not like I could’ve told you back then, we were 'mortal enemies' after three words in. Besides, my father would’ve had a killed me.”

“Your father,” Harry said, his tone darkening slightly. “What’s he like? I mean… beyond what I’ve seen at school.”

Lyra’s expression shifted, a more somber look crossing her face. “He’s… complicated. He’s absent, most of the time. Always off doing something for the Ministry. And when he is home, it’s all about making sure I don’t mess up the Malfoy name.”

Harry frowned. “That sounds… awful.”

“It is, sometimes,” Lyra admitted quietly. “But I’ve learned to live with it. My mother… she tries. But there’s only so much she can do. Sometimes I feel like I’m just a chess piece in his grand plan.”

Harry squeezed her hand again, his thumb brushing against her knuckles.

"I used to tell Blaise you would be the last boy to ever break my heart, after our meeting on the train."

Harry turned to look at her, his hand reaching out to tug some stray hair behind her ear, "You don't have to worry about that ever again. I won't break your heart. Ever. I promise."

"I wish it's a promise you keep, Potter," Lyra grinned, "Or I might have to kill you."

"I don't know," The young wizard shrugged, "History proves I am hard to kill, I might not look like much, but it's a tough job."

They got up from their place, and somehow, it was already afternoon. Harry proposed they go to get a quick bite, and the girl immediately got up to her feet.

They wandered through the park, the conversation light at first—discussing their upcoming classes, making fun of the worst parts of Potions, and laughing about how Blaise once tried to charm a broomstick and ended up with it chasing him through the dungeons. But eventually, the light mood shifted, and Lyra found herself growing quieter.

There was something she had been avoiding, a question lingering at the edge of her mind ever since the Triwizard Tournament ended. She hadn't wanted to bring it up, especially not after everything Harry had been through, but she needed to understand.

“Harry,” Lyra said quietly, her voice hesitant. He turned to her, concern flickering in his eyes. “I wanted to ask you something… about Cedric.”

Harry stiffened for a moment, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t look away. “Go on,” he said softly.

She bit her lip, unsure of how to phrase it without causing him more pain. “What… what really happened that night? In the graveyard?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes darkening with the weight of the memory. They walked in silence for a few moments, and Lyra was about to tell him to forget it when he finally spoke.

"It all happened so fast," Harry began, his voice steady but low. "We both touched the Triwizard Cup at the same time—it was a Portkey. One second, we were in the maze, and the next… we were in this graveyard. Peter Pettigrew was there, waiting for us, so he could bring Voldemort back with a physical body. Cedric didn’t even have a chance to defend himself. It was over in seconds.”

Lyra felt her stomach twist. She knew Cedric—he had always been one of the few people who treated everyone kindly, regardless of house. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Harry nodded, his eyes distant. “I tried to fight him. I tried everything. But Voldemort’s back, stronger than ever, and… well, Cedric’s dead because of it.”

The words hung in the air like a dark cloud, and Lyra’s heart ached for Harry. She reached out, grabbing his hand gently. “It wasn’t your fault, Harry. You know that, right?”

“I could have done something,” Harry said, frustration evident in his voice. “I should have seen it coming, stopped it somehow.”

Lyra shook her head, squeezing his hand. “You couldn’t have known. V-Voldemort is a monster, and Cedric would never want you to blame yourself for what happened.”

Harry looked at her, the pain in his eyes softening slightly. “Sometimes, I just wish I could forget it. All of it.”

"I wish–" Lyra took a deep breath, "Sometimes I wish we were just normal people. Muggles. Worried about arithmetics instead of a war."

Harry smiled, despite the sad look in his eyes, "I don't know, arithmetics sounds pretty difficult."

The heavy mood lifted a little as they continued walking, their steps slow. Lyra’s stomach growled loudly, breaking the silence.

Harry snorted, glancing at her with an amused grin. “You are obviously hungry, let's walk faster.”

“I am starving,” she admitted, blushing slightly. “I kind of forgot breakfast in my rush to sneak out.”

He laughed and then gestured toward a small diner, "Anything in particular that you'd like to eat?"

Lyra’s eyes lit up, and she eagerly nodded. “Anything, please. I’m not picky, as long as it’s edible.”

The diner was quaint and cozy, the smell of fried food and fresh coffee filling the air as they slipped into a booth by the window. A bored-looking waitress handed them menus, and Lyra immediately flipped through it, her eyes growing wide at the muggle options.

"Harry," she whispered conspiratorially, leaning across the table. "What in Merlin’s name is a ‘milkshake’? It sounds like something you’d feed a baby dragon.”

Harry burst out laughing, attracting a few curious glances from other patrons. “It’s not dangerous, I promise. You’ll love it.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow, still skeptical, but shrugged. “Alright, Potter. You better be right.”

They ordered, and as they waited, Lyra began to notice all the little things about Harry she hadn’t really taken in before. The way his hair never seemed to sit flat, the small scar on his knuckles, the soft way he smiled when he caught her staring. It felt strange, sitting across from him in a muggle diner, like they were worlds away from their own one.

Their food arrived not long after—a burger for Harry and something called ‘fish and chips’ for Lyra, which she eyed with a mix of curiosity and hesitation. “So, you’re telling me this is normal food for muggles?”

“Completely normal,” Harry confirmed with a grin.

Lyra took a cautious bite and then her eyes lit up. “Oh! This is actually really good!”

“Told you,” Harry said, sipping his milkshake.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm of eating, laughing, and discovering more strange things about each other. Harry was fascinated by the quirks of the Malfoy household—like how their house-elf Millie was apparently obsessed with collecting broken wands—and Lyra found herself in stitches over Harry’s stories about Dudley’s failed attempts at dieting.

“So, I’ve got to ask,” Harry began casually, “has Crabbe always been that… well, dim?”

Lyra blinked, then burst out laughing. “Pretty much."

"What about Goyle?”

“Goyle?” Lyra sighed dramatically. “Honestly, he’s not much better. Sometimes, I think they might have one shared brain cell between them. And as much as I hate to admit it…” She leaned closer and whispered, “I wouldn’t mind pushing them off the Astronomy Tower sometimes.”

Harry stared at her, wide-eyed. “Wait, really?”

Lyra snorted. “Don’t get me wrong—they’re kind of my friends, in a weird, annoying, obligatory sort of way. But Merlin, they can be insufferable. I’m basically forced to keep them around because of my father, but sometimes I fantasize about a world where they’re not constantly breathing down my neck.”

Harry smirked. “So, you’re saying you’ve got a darker side?”

“Absolutely,” Lyra grinned. “But don’t worry, you’re safe. It’s just those two I wouldn’t mind losing for a few hours.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “I always wondered what it was like being stuck with them. I figured it couldn’t be easy.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Lyra groaned. “Sometimes, I think Blaise, Pansy and I are the only three with functioning brains in our entire house.”

“Well, if you ever do push them off the tower, just make sure I’m not around as a witness,” Harry teased.

Lyra laughed, leaning back in her seat. “Deal.”

“So,” Lyra said between bites, changing the topic, “did you know I once hexed an entire shelf of books in the library just to make Blaise shut up?”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “You what?”

“Yeah,” Lyra said with a smirk. “They all started reciting Shakespeare plays whenever he opened them. It drove him mad for days.”

“You’re evil,” Harry said, shaking his head but grinning widely. "Hermione would have killed me if I ever did anything like that."

Lyra smiled and the spoke softly, "Thank you, Harry."

"For what?"

"For being you."

Once they had finished eating and paid (with Harry awkwardly explaining to Lyra how muggle money worked), they strolled back through the streets, the light conversation giving way to something more serious again.

Harry laughed softly, shaking his head. “I still can’t believe you had a crush on me before we even met.”

“Well, don’t let it get to your head, Potter,” she teased, nudging him playfully. “I didn’t know you were this much of an idiot back then.”

Harry grinned, but then his expression softened. “You know… I’ve been thinking. About us. I’m glad we didn’t meet in some big, dramatic way. I like that we got to know each other, or really, hate each other and then get to know each other.”

Lyra smiled, warmth spreading through her chest. “Me too.”

They walked in silence for a while, hands brushing against each other as they strolled through the empty streets. Eventually, they found themselves back at the park where their day had begun.

“Well,” Harry said, sitting down on a bench and pulling her close, “I think we’ve figured out that we’re both a little weird.”

Lyra laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Yeah. But I like it. I like us.”

Harry smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Me too.”

The rest of the day blinked by quickly, and soon, the sun was about to set. The girl knew she had to leave before her mother lost her head about her whereabouts. Lyra broke the silence. “You know,” she began, “if you told me two years ago that I’d be sneaking away to spend a summer day with you... I’d have hexed myself for even thinking about it.”

Harry grinned. “Yeah? Same. I mean, you’re a Malfoy.”

“And you’re Harry Potter,” she teased, nudging his shoulder. “The boy with a hero complex.”

“Hey!” he laughed. “I don’t have a hero complex.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Because I distinctly remember you volunteering to face a dragon. A dragon, Harry. And you didn’t even bat an eyelash.”

"I was terrified!" Harry chuckled softly, shaking his head. “But okay, maybe a little bit.”

She leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Just so we’re clear, you’re still an idiot.”

He shrugged. “But I’m your idiot.”

They both laughed, and as the laughter died down, Harry turned toward her again, eyes softening. "I’m glad you came today."

"Me too," Lyra said quietly, her heart fluttering again. "Maybe summer isn’t so boring after all."

“So, we’ll keep this quiet for now,” Harry said, his voice thoughtful. “No one at school can know.”

Lyra nodded. “It’s safer that way. Besides, you’re a bit of a celebrity, Potter. Everyone would be talking about it.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because that’s exactly what I want. More attention.”

Lyra chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’ll be discreet. No secret meetings in broom cupboards or anything like that.”

Harry laughed, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. “No broom cupboards? That’s disappointing.”

She playfully nudged him, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“I'd be anything for you, Lyra Malfoy,” Harry said, his voice warm and affectionate.

They both fell quiet again, watching as the world around them slowly darkened with the setting sun. There was a sense of peace between them, a shared understanding that no matter how chaotic their lives could become, they had this. They had each other.

Lyra got on her tiptoes to reach Harry's face, so her blue eyes could meet his green ones. “Thanks for today, Harry.” 

“Anytime,” he replied softly, leaning in to kiss her. The kiss was soft and slow, no rush but Lyra felt the same electricity she had felt when she kissed him for the first time. She wished it would always remain this way– magical.

Everything will be okay. As long as they had each other.