Shades of Silver and Black

WALBURGA WAS A PROUD BLACK. Therefore, one would think by now, she would have been unfettered at the sight of mortifying things. Unfortunately, when Walburga had floo'd out of the Planetarium to the place her brother had written in his letter he was staying at, she had stumbled upon the most horrifying event she had ever had the misfortune to witness— Alphard snogging someone on the sofa in the parlour.

The deafening shriek that Walburga had released was enough for the two men to separate and fall off the sofa before jumping to their feet, faces flushed and expressions sheepish.

"Well," the unknown man began in a thick accent, rubbing the back of his neck, "that's one way to meet your sister."

Walburga was still screaming, rooted to the spot.

"Oi, stop yelling!" Alphard said, marching towards his sister and pressing a hand onto her mouth, muffling her shouts. "Honestly! You're overreacting. Shut up, I'm too young to go deaf."

Walburga did shut up.

The unknown man politely waved at her. Then, he introduced himself as Petrov Krum before making an excuse about having to check up on something.

Alphard watched him fondly while Walburga fell silent. After Petrov disappeared from view, Alphard turned to her, cocking a brow. "Well? Why are you here?"

"I didn't know you both were serious," Walburga admitted instead, wondering precisely how much she knew about her brother.

Alphard suddenly flushed, rubbing the back of his head with a hand. "It just sort of...happened, you know? He's great. I love hanging out with him. And I... I wouldn't mind hanging out with him the rest of my life."

Walburga smiled warmly. Alphard had been the most flamboyant of them, never being still and constantly jumping from one location to another, one person to the next. It seems that Petrov Krum was the perfect reason for him to finally stay.

Walburga looked around the parlour, hoping to catch more of the identity of the man who had captured her brother's heart when she spotted it. "He plays?" Walburga asked, motioning with her head to the piano.

Alphard grinned proudly. "Even won a competition." He paused to contemplate. "Why don't we go to one of the rooms and talk, Burga? That way, we'd have more privacy and fewer pianos."

Walburga rolled her eyes, catching on to his allegation. "I'm not going to throw a piano at you."

"That's what you always say shortly before you throw a piano at me."

"Well, that's partially your fault. Stop giving me reasons to throw a piano at you."

"Stop throwing pianos at me!" Alphard threw his hands in the air before pointing to the piano situated between two corners. "Especially not that one. It was Petrov's grandfather's and he's quite fond of it."

"Ye of little faith," Walburga waved away his concerns. "I won't throw pianos at you today."

"Or vases."

Walburga hesitated momentarily before begrudgingly accepting the clause. "Or vases. I just want to talk with you today like normal siblings do."

Alphard arched a brow. "You want us to behave like normal siblings?" He repeated, worry increasing.

Walburga did not respond. Rather, she wandered around the room absentmindedly for a couple of minutes, gazing at nothing in particular. Alphard observed her odd behaviour with curious concern.

Finally, Walburga seated herself on one of the vibrant violet sofas backgrounded by towering windows which allowed the sunlight to stem in and kiss her pale skin. Her hand reached for a photo frame that had been planted onto a small, oak tea-table beside the sofa and held it in front of her to view.

It was a picture of her brother and Petrov Krum— an admittedly adorable one which showed Petrov sitting on a wooden bench reading a book and Alphard resting his head on Petrov's lap with his eyes closed contently. Autumn leaves performed their last dances in the wind before gently landing on them like snow. She could see Petrov's lips mouthing words as his eyes steadily scanned the pages while Alphard's hands were fidgeting with an orange leaf.

A small smile tugged her lips upwards without her consent at the sight of her brother's happiness. The question escaped her mouth before Walburga could process it. "How did the two of you meet?"

"Ah, that's a fun story." Alphard chuckled as he navigated his steps and sat beside Walburga, staring at the picture frame in her hands with fondness. "A source had informed me that the Goblins had found another Thracian treasure. So, obviously, I had to find it first and made the mistake of going there alone. Unfortunately, it had protective charms on it. More unfortunately, I got hit with a stray curse. Most unfortunately, I blacked out because of blood loss and a goblin of all creatures found me and rushed me to the nearest hospital." Alphard's lips moulded to form a crescent moon shape as he strolled down memory lane. "Apparently, I seduced Petrov with my incoherent mumbling and gorgeous, drool-covered face."

"Petrov is a healer?"

"The best in Bulgaria," Alphard bragged, adopting a grin. "Lyra's going to love him. Or, Petrov's going to love her. Not sure, but bottom line, Lucius and I should be worried."

"I suppose..." Walburga agreed weakly, countenance falling like snowflakes at the mention of her daughter's name. She allowed herself one last glance at the photo before she returned it to the table it had sat on.

Alphard's brows met in confusion. "What's wrong, 'Burga?"

Walburga sighed, tilting her head upwards to stare at the white ceiling. "Am I a bad mother?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"A genuine one," Walburga responded, gaze fixed upwards. "Sirius got into Gryffindor and I'm pretty sure he's on his way to be a blood-traitor. I'm ignoring the events that are occurring in front of me because I don't want to face or accept them. People are going to be so cruel if he does become a blood traitor. He's getting singled out for being a Gryffindor among the children of our friends who are his age. I'm worried he'll become ostracised later but I don't want to acknowledge the possibility of that happening at the same time." Her eyes closed and a bitter bark of laughter escaped her mouth. "I'm not even going to start with Lyra."

"What's wrong with Lyra?"

"So, so many things." Walburga inhaled sharply, her breathing turned uneven. "I had always assumed that Lyra was naturally good at everything. That should have been the first thing to catch my suspicions— she was forcing herself to be good at everything. Now I don't know what to believe. I'm finding myself questioning every aspect of our relationship, every word she's said, every action she's performed because, as I've learnt today, I can't differentiate between lies and truth." Walburga's voice lowered to a whisper. "Lyra's been miserable every time she had to force a smile —oh Merlin, did she ever really smile— and I've been ignorant of it all. Or maybe I knew but I didn't want to handle it. And Regulus— Well, he seems happy, but Lyra did as well, so I don't know."

Walburga slowly opened her eyes and softly spun her head to meet Alphard's melancholic demeanour. "What kind of mother am I?"

"The human kind," Alphard quietly quipped. "The kind who makes mistakes because they aren't perfect. The kind that loves their children."

"Not enough to see how they're suffering." She sighed. "Lyra hates me, doesn't she? For not noticing, for everything I should have done but didn't because I'm that incapable."

"She's Lyra, that much doesn't change. You know how she is. I don't know precisely what happened but I'm sure that Lyra—" feels awful for things that might not even be her fault "—doesn't hate you. No matter what you did, no matter what you do, no matter what you will do, she won't hate you. She's not that kind of a person."

"I doubt she likes me either," Walburga stated, lulling Alphard into silence for the span of a few seconds.

"Let's go out." Alphard stood up, throwing Walburga off by his abrupt choice of words.

"What? Now? When I poured my worries out to you with great difficulty and trust?"

"Yes, now, right after you poured out your worries with great difficulty and trust," Alphard intoned, linking his arm into Walburga's and forcing her to jump to her feet and begin to walk. "Well, the truth is, um," the tip of his ears pinked, "I'm not good with all these emotional reassurances. I'm afraid I might say the incorrect thing and make things worse, and you have too much guilt, regret and worry at the moment to think properly so you'll mostly ignore everything I say. You need a break. You need to be calmer. You need some fresh air and have to deviate your mind for a bit. So, come on."

Alphard marched towards the front door, Walburga being dragged behind him in tow. "I don't want to go," she protested, even though she put up no resistance to wherever her brother was leading her.

"I don't think Orion chose Bulgaria for your special, historical ventures during the summer—" Walburga's lips curled down to form a frown and because Alphard had his gaze fixed ahead, he didn't notice "—and since I've been staying here for a few months now, I can play tour-guide, isn't that lovely? Oh!" He halted his steps, startling Walburga at the suddenness and nearly causing her to trip. Alphard swivelled to face her and Walburga had never seen her brother look so excited. "Can we invite Petrov as well? Can we, can we, can we? He's simply amazing and really great at explanations and knows all the most wonderful places here and—"

"—Okay," Walburga interjected, mostly to stop Alphard's blabber. "He can come along."

Alphard cheered by throwing both his fists upwards in the air before kissing her cheeks and dashing into one of the hallways of the handsome Manor, yelling Petrov's name.

A fond smile decorated Walburga's visage at his enthusiastic behaviour as she waited for Alphard and Petrov to arrive.

Later, after Walburga was subjected to witnessing hours of sickeningly adorable lovey-dovey scenes of her brother and his boyfriend, and after Petrov was called to the hospital he worked at for an emergency, Walburga found herself seated idly beside her brother on the wooden bench in the park that she had seen in the picture frame.

"I don't think you're a bad mother," Alphard stated out-of-the-blue, leaving Walburga momentarily confused due to the lack of context. "Believe me, when I heard you were pregnant with Lyra, I felt horrified. I had even considered begging Aunt Mal and Uncle Archie to raise Lyra instead of you since I considered you unfit."

"You what!"

"—But then," he paused, the corner of his lips tugged upwards. "Then, I entered the hospital room after you gave birth. I saw the way you held her, I saw the way you smiled. I noticed the way you looked at her and wished I could take every single negative comment back because you're not a bad mother, Walburga; not as much as you think you are, not as much as you are made out to be. You need to believe in yourself a smidge more. Things are absolutely horrid now, but it's going to pass. It's going to be okay."

Walburga hummed, not looking at him, choosing instead to stare at the ground. "You think so?" Her voice conveyed all the vulnerability that her face masked.

Alphard tossed her a blinding, optimistic smile. "I think so. Anyway—" he cleared his throat "—now that you're here, why don't you spend the day with us and leave tomorrow or something? We can buy everything you need here, don't worry. I think it'll be a nice change of scenery for you and besides, Petrov is making Banitsa today and oh Merlin, you have not lived until you've tasted the slices of heaven that is Petrov's Banitsa and—"

"—Okay," Walburga interjected, intending on halting Alphard's rave even as warmth filled her chest at the kind gesture. A smile grew on her face. "I would like to stay here with you and Petrov and Petrov's Banitsa, but only because you insisted so much."

Alphard flashed her a winning grin, swinging an arm around his sister's shoulders, much to her irritation, but she uncharacteristically said nothing.

Both brother and sister sat there on the wooden bench until Petrov returned from his shift at the hospital, after which the trio walked to the latter's house while being serenaded with songs Alphard composed on the spot complimenting Petrov's delicious Banitsa and Petrov jokingly confessing from the corner of his mouth to Walburga on wondering if Alphard liked him for the food he cooked rather than his personality, only for Alphard to teasingly declare that he adored his boyfriend's looks the best.

And that was the beginning of how the Blacks spent the eve of Yule in separate locations with Walburga and Alphard in Bulgaria, Lyra asleep in Malfoy Manor, Andromeda and Ted with the latter's muggle family, Narcissa with her parents in their house, Orion barricading himself in his study at Grimmauld Place and drowning bottles of vodka like water, Irma and Pollux at their house, the three young boys at Potter Manor, and leaving Arcturus and Melania alone in their large estate to stare at the series of family portraits they commissioned every five years, comparing each one of them to the other and wondering how many of their numbers would dwindle when they ordered for one to be painted next.

Lyra awoke with the sunlight streaming through the curtain windows and a sprain in her neck. She shifted, lifting her head when she was bombarded with memories of the events of the previous day. She swivelled her face, smiling when she noticed Lucius leaning against the wall and snoring softly.

Should she wake him up or should she use magic to transfer him to a bed?

Neither, she decided, standing up and letting him slumber on the bathroom floor with his platinum hair —now, identical in shade to hers— in a disarray. With care and caution, Lyra proceeded to tip-toe out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

A dress had been laid on top of Lucius' bed. It looked gorgeous and vintage, the white colour of it popping against the dark sheets of the bed. Lyra picked up a note placed on the dress.

You both looked so adorable, I didn't have the heart to disrupt your peace. Happy Yule, hope this gift of mine is the correct size.

Love, Belladonna.

Lyra's lips curved into a smile and she took a moment to admire the dress. Then, she folded the note and kept it on the side-table beside Lucius' bed, intending on keeping it safe until later before collecting the dress and exiting Lucius' room. She entered one of the many guest bedrooms and closed the door behind her to get ready.

When Lyra glided down the spiral staircases to the parlour, she spotted Belladonna sitting on the sofa, the sunlight from the windows casting a halo around her.

"Good morning," Lyra greeted, to which Belladonna returned in kind.

Then, she pointed to where piles of mail had been stacked atop each other on the tea-table in front of her. "You've got a ton of mail," Belladonna informed Lyra while sipping her tea.

Lyra smiled in thanks, proceeding to walk to the table and sitting on an armchair beside the sofa Lady Malfoy was seated on. She skimmed through the envelopes, familiar with the fact that most of the letters she received would be from acquaintances wishing her a happy Yule. However, whenever she noted the address being from anyone bearing the last name 'Black' she took that envelope and flicked it into the fireplace. Lyra was not in the mood to read anything they had written, whether it was apologies, explanations, or greetings.

Lady Malfoy said nothing about her actions and continued to calmly sip her morning tea, watching her carefully. After Lyra had finished skimming through the stacks of envelopes, throwing at least forty of them into the fire, Belladonna set her cup on the saucer. "Let's eat breakfast now, Lyra. You can start opening and reading the letters later."

Lyra dimpled. Both of them rose upwards and strolled to the dining table decorated with silver platters filled with food, creating small-talk on the journey.

"I usually eat breakfast alone," Belladonna said mournfully when they sat down. "Abraxas is a late riser, something Lucius seems to have inherited, and I get hungry easily" She cheerfully clapped her hands together. "I can't express how ecstatic I am that you're awake early. It's lonely eating alone."

Lyra giggled. "It's my pleasure, Belladonna."

Both of them began eating the spinach omelette that the House-Elves served, alternating between discussing Lyra's job and engaging in the gossip Belladonna had heard.

The tranquillity of the atmosphere broke when the fireplace crackled with embers before calming down to reveal the familiar figure of Lyra's godmother, Dorea Potter.

"Oh, honey—" Dorea instantly rushed forward, pulled her goddaughter up and wrapped her arms around Lyra, bringing her into a hug "—I'm so sorry."

"I'm the one who should be saying sorry," Lyra mumbled into Dorea's shoulders. "I got spinach on your dress," she said guiltily, setting down the fork she had been holding back on the table.

"I can always buy a new dress. I can never go back in time and be there for you whenever you needed me, but I was absent." Dorea's embrace on her tightened and Lyra felt a drop of water on her exposed shoulders. "You weren't yourself for so long, and I didn't notice. I'm a shitty godmother."

Dorea paused, leaning back and before Lyra could say anything else, her eyes widened like saucer plates. "Oh Merlin, your hair! Please, please tell me you didn't always have silver hair and this is something you did recently. Otherwise, if I didn't notice your hair colour, well, I'll cry. I'll genuinely, actually begin to cry."

"It is new," Lyra reassured, merriment glittering in her eyes.

Dorea squinted her gaze suspiciously. "How new?"

"Yesterday new," Lyra replied, making Dorea relieved.

"Oh. Then, you look lovely. Actually, you know what? I'm too worked up to be formal and polite. So, Lyra, you look bloody brilliant! Your hair looks all silvery and mystically. Horrifyingly enough, it reminds me of Abraxas, not going to lie, but it suits your personality."

"Thank you, godmother," Lyra said, warmth spreading in her chest and softening her smile.

Dorea mirrored her visage before faintly frowning. Hesitantly, she started, "Lyra, I heard yesterday that you—"

"—With all due respect, I don't want to talk about it, godmother," Lyra interrupted, the lowness of her tone sobering Dorea.

"Oh."

Lyra inhaled a breath, wearing a wobbling smile. "Yeah. I'm still processing things. I need time before I start confronting the consequences of my actions. I don't want to talk about it —any of it— now, not until I'm ready."

Dorea nodded. "Okay, I understand." Hesitating again, she asked, "Do you want to come home?", referring to the Potter Manor. "Your brothers are waiting. We haven't begun opening the Yule presents yet. It would be wonderful if you could join us."

"Could I come tomorrow instead?" Lyra said, gaze fixed downwards. "Dennis planned a gathering of sorts, so I'll be spending the evening onwards there, including dinner. I think... I would like to stay at Malfoy Manor today. I can stay at home from tomorrow morning until the day I return to Peru to make up for it if you'd like?"

"I would like that very much." Dorea smiled before clearing her throat. "I hope you know that you can come whenever you want. It's your home as well, please don't hesitate, and if you'll have me, I would love to play the role of your godmother but this time, to the best of my abilities."

"I would love that," Lyra echoed her previous words, causing Dorea to smile.

"Have breakfast before you leave," Belladonna chimed, waving her fork in the air after the lapse of a few seconds. "We have your favourite— food!"

"I do love food," Dorea acknowledged in a muse. "And by the time I return home, I can eat a second breakfast with the boys and pretend it's my first."

"A most auspicious way to celebrate," Belladonna commented, prompting Dorea and Lyra to giggle.

Dorea returned to the Potter Manor before Lucius and Abraxas descended down the cascading staircase, yawning and half-awake. Lyra and Belladonna shared an exasperated glance, after which the four of them spent the rest of the day till evening in the library, reading books and conversing, celebrating Yule quietly.

"Wow," Lyra breathed out, watching how those who had been part of her court were already seated on patio chairs and chatting. "It looks wonderful."

Lucius hummed appreciatively, sneaking a glance at his fiancée whose countenance was illuminated by the moonlight stood beside him and feeling a smile tug his lips as he noticed the awed expression Lyra adorned as she surveyed the area.

The open courtyard of the Yaxley Manor had been blanketed by snow and redesigned in honour of the get-together Dennis had organised. Strong warming spells had been applied throughout the Manor, intertwined into its very wards. Thus, providing protection from the cold and snow to those inside its estate and nullifying the need for jumpers and overcoats.

A large, newly-constructed pergola made of white stones spanned the open space of the courtyard, conjured bluebells floating in the air and flowering vines of jasmine and honeysuckle cascaded from its roof. The rustic pergola contained a wide, rectangular table draped with pristine, white fabric, surrounded by pale cushioned elf-made jute-woven chairs for the guests who were seated on it. The surrounding trees and shrubs had been illuminated with sparkling, coloured lights, resembling fallen stars below the cloak of darkness.

"Aah! There they are!" Dennis' voice drifted across the courtyard as he stood up from his seat, arms spreading open to greet them and a grin overtaking his face. "Her Highness and His Hairgelliness have finally graced us, humble peasants, with their snobbish, royal selves!"

"That's rather rude," Lucius commented while Lyra laughed, both of them walking towards the pergola with intertwined arms. "I've reduced the amount of hair gel I wear significantly, so stop calling me that horrid name."

"He's telling the truth," Lyra told Dennis as they arrived closer. "Instead of drenching his hair 100 per cent with hair gel, Lucius is drenching his hair only 99.99 per cent now."

"The desire to use that .01 percent is ever constant and everlasting," Lucius mournfully confessed, causing those within hearing distance to break into laughter.

"Speaking of hair," Dennis started, grinning. "I love Lyra's. The platinum colour oddly suits you."

"Thank you. I've been trying to be more Malfoy-like." Lyra dimpled as others paid her similar compliments regarding the new colour of her hair as she walked closer to them.

After Lucius and Lyra occupied the last two vacant chairs around the table, Lyra took a moment to gaze at her surroundings, an action that brought her to walk down a path of nostalgia. Most of the people who had been pillars of strength and were the reason she had ruled comfortably without much problems for seven years were seated with her. Some were absent though.

As if practising legilimency on her, Dennis, who sat adjacent to her spoke, "A lot of people couldn't attend because they're having Yule dinners in their own homes like Septima and Amaya. Thomas, Augustus, and Bellatrix are also absent because they're busy doing Merlin knows what. Valarie's expected to give birth any day now and Henry won't leave her side. Patrick is attending the Yule dinner hosted by his in-laws. That's where Penelope, Leonard and Narcissa are as well; but I'm sure you already knew that." He laughed lightly and Lyra did as well, not informing him how she was unaware of Narcissa celebrating the festival with her boyfriend's family. She also pretended not to notice Theodore Nott stiffen from where he was sitting beside her upon hearing her cousin's name and the way Cassandra Greengrass squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"Thank you for organising this reunion of sorts, Dennis," Lyra told him, allowing a smile to compliment her features. "It's a very thoughtful gesture and it feels so lovely to see all of you again." She met the eyes of all the thirty strong people seated around the table. "We've been through so much together and then got busy with carving our own marks in this world. I do hope we meet often and rekindle all those marvellous memories we shared." She heard a chorus of similar remarks and empty promises.

Dennis grinned and snapped his fingers. Numerous house-elves popped into existence and lingered in the shadowed corners, each of them holding an alit scented candle and brightening the area from the darkness. Then, silver-wear, napkins, glasses filled with fine elvish wine along with plates and platters loaded with food appeared.

"I hope we can all get along today," Dennis cordially stated, playing his role of host. "Whatever misunderstandings may have occurred in the past, whatever bonds had been broken, I hope it can be repaired today because we were on top of the world for so long. Let's reclaim that." Dennis gestured to Lyra and Lucius. "Remember the tradition, we can't eat unless the king and queen do."

"Indeed." Lucius smiled, swivelling to Lyra. "But first, before dinner, a toast, perhaps?"

"It's well-deserved," Lyra agreed. She wrapped his fingers around the stem of her wine glass and hoisted it upwards in the air. Everyone followed her action, nostalgia washing over them. "To us being legends."

"To us being legends!"

"—and that's how my father found out about Theo and me!" Cassandra finished with a laugh.

"Oh my, that must have been horrifying," Lyra commented, chortling.

Theo shivered theatrically. "Horrifying? It was scaring. After Lord Greengrass walked in on me and Cas snogging beside that lake, he used this spell to push me into that water. To this day, I have nightmares about drowning."

"But they're okay with each other now," Cassandra intoned, smiling as she drew soothing circles on Theodore's hand.

Theodore snorted. "Maybe he is. I only pretend to be. I'm bloody terrified he'll kill me if I say or do something wrong."

"Then don't say or do something wrong," Lyra stated like it was the easiest thing in the world and Cassandra nodded her head in agreement.

"It's not as easy as you're making it out to be," Lucius interjected, empathising with Theodore who looked at him gratefully. "I mean, of course, you both don't have to be worried about sleeping but never waking up. Your fiancé's parents adore you. I remember constantly tip-toeing around Lyra's father when we began dating. In fact, I still tip-toe around him now. Why do you think I'm breaking laws to allow Heir Apparent Black to see the artefact we dug up in a separate continent?"

"Because you want him to like you?" Cassandra guessed.

"It's because I want to live." Lucius blurted out, looking her in the eyes. "I fear if I don't keep making him happy, he might decide he's tired of me and come to the realisation that Lyra rightfully deserves better and then hit me with a knife before making me 'mysteriously disappear'. The Planetarium estate is so large, I wouldn't be surprised if bodies were buried in it."

"Ssh," Lyra whispered with a wink, momentarily resting a finger on Lucius' lips before withdrawing it. "That's a secret."

Lucius motioned to Lyra with a hand, still staring at Cassandra. "See? It's these comments that don't help or reassure my concerns."

"They aren't meant to," Lyra said, sharing a laugh with Cassandra as Lucius and Theodore adorned mirroring scowls.

By now, despite it being a gathering, everyone had broken off into small groups consisting of those closest to them and were chatting amongst themselves. Lyra was no exception, having taken to talking with Dennis, Lucius, Cassandra and Theodore over things they hadn't gotten the opportunity to speak about earlier or matters that couldn't be expressed in mere letters.

"Oh!" Dennis exclaimed suddenly, commanding the attention of the other four. A smile threatened to break his face. "I just remembered, Lyra and Lucius got together officially around Yuletide, didn't they? Wow, that means the two of them have been together for three years now."

"We could have gotten together sooner if someone didn't date the lovely Miss Selwyn," Lyra chimed, looking at Lucius pointedly, who rolled his eyes.

"In my defence, someone convinced me that making you jealous would be a fantastic idea," Lucius stated.

Cassandra scoffed. "Jealousy never works, that's common knowledge. Which idiot convinced you that was a good idea?"

"That one did." Lucius pointed a finger at Theodore who had taken to whistling innocently.

A rosy hue graced Cassandra's cheeks as Lyra and Dennis snickered. She cleared her throat. "I meant, which incredibly handsome and brilliant intellectual convinced you that it was a good idea?"

Theodore winced, shaking his head. "Please don't say anything else in my defence, Cas. I appreciate the sentiment but it only makes things worse."

Cassandra huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Your loss." She punched his shoulder. "I can't believe you told Lucius he needed to make Lyra jealous!"

"Well, it all worked out well in the end, didn't it?" Theodore rubbed his shoulder with a pout. "Besides, I'm not the only idiot here. Lucius shouldn't have taken such horrid advice."

"Hey!" Lyra objected on Lucius' behalf. "How dare you assume Lucius had the brains to differentiate good advice from the horrid ones in the first place?"

The smile that had begun to blossom on Lucius' demeanour at Lyra supposedly defending him wilted into an irritated scowl, prompting a domino effect of laughter to erupt once more.

"Well, the fact that you're so incredibly oblivious to the affection of others helped prolong us getting together," Lucius shot back hotly.

"I'm oblivious?" Lyra repeated, lifting a brow.

"Incredibly oblivious," Lucius corrected, emphasising the word. "I recall confessing that I love you once and you thinking I was talking about somebody else."

"Ah, I remember that! Have you, perhaps, ever considered the fact that I pretended to be oblivious at that time because I didn't want to recount the epic story of us getting together to have been in the Great Hall during breakfast when we were all hungry and sleepy?"

"Um, no?"

"Then consider it; that's what happened."

"You're changing the narrative," Lucius accused. "I'm also reminded of when you horrified me by suggesting you liked me as a sibling."

"Oh, that was purely for my amusement," Lyra reminisced fondly, adding, "and to satisfy my spite of you not being direct or romantic enough."

Lucius' brows rose up in disbelief while Dennis, Theodore and Cassandra broke out into sniggers.

"You're joking," Lucius declared. "There's no way you could have done any of that consciously."

Lyra hummed, plopping her elbow on the table and resting her chin on it. "You know what else I couldn't have done consciously? Send you a bouquet of dead flowers to convey my hatred and disappointment after you dated the gorgeous Miss Sewlyn before you dated me."

Lucius looked astonished. "You sent the bouquet?"

Lyra nodded like it was obvious, leaning back against her chair and folding her arms. "Are you still sure that I'm the one who is oblivious between us considering you didn't notice so, so many things?"

Lucius' mouth dropped, dumbfounded.

"Wait a moment," Cassandra began, laughing. "Now that we've established that Lyra wasn't oblivious to Lucius' very obvious affections—" she turned towards Lyra "—why didn't you just confess to him?"

"Now, what fun would that have been?" Lyra countered, making Cassandra nod understandingly.

Dennis, meanwhile, leaned forward to wave his hand in front of Lucius' gobsmacked face only to receive no response. "Lucius? Are you with us?" He tapped on Lucius' shoulder, jerking him out of his daze.

"Yes, I am," Lucius answered, his voice hoarse. "Just found out the principles of the relationship I had with the love of my life was incorrect, no big deal." He swivelled to face an amused Lyra. "Was anything you told me true?"

"Every single time I told you that I love you, that has and always will be true."

Lucius' eyes softened at her reply and the way her dimples deepened when her lips curved to resemble the crescent moon in the sky above them.

Dennis made a disgusted noise while Cassandra cooed and Theodore smirked because suddenly, it felt like they were back at Hogwarts, organising a betting game on when their most esteemed king and queen would finally get together without the knowledge of their rulers and later, grumbling when Dennis won the wager.

"Have you both decided on a wedding date yet?" Theodore asked a while later.

By now, everyone around the table had finished their dinners and had their plates cleared out. Yet, they continued to be seated and chatted with their friends.

Noting how the discussion was now entered around weddings, Dennis leaned back and closed his eyes contently, armed with the knowledge that he wouldn't be able to participate in the conversation for some time.

Lucius shook his head. "No, not yet."

"We're not that bothered about it actually," Lyra added. "I mean, we're engaged and that's a nice place to be in, so we're not in a hurry to be married. What about you both? Didn't you get engaged before we did?"

"We're thinking sometime in the summer next year," Cassandra intoned.

"And by 'we', Cas means she," Theodore translated lovingly. "As the groom, all I need to do is show up."

Feigning ignorance to Theodore's words, Cassandra resumed telling Lyra, "Not sure about the precise date yet, but we're hoping to finalise it by New Year so we can send out the invitations."

"A summer wedding sounds fascinating," Lyra commented. "Will the themes be bright colours in accordance then?"

"Something more muted, I reckon," Cassandra piqued. "Perhaps pastel or light but dulled down? I've been looking at this dress in last week's edition of Witch Weekly and it was in this enchanting but blunt shade and I'm in love with it, so I want that for my wedding."

"Oh, I adore that concept,"

Cassandra giggled, dramatically flipping her hair. "I know. My mind is brilliant. Anyway, what about you? Any plans for your wedding?"

"None at all."

"Really?" Cassandra appeared bewildered. "Not even a theme or setting or location or...?"

"None at all," Lyra repeated. "I haven't given it much thought, honestly. Been a little caught up at the hospital and shifting countries lately."

"But we will have white peacocks present," Lucius interjected. "And snakes. A lot of them."

"Oh yes," Lyra agreed, suddenly cheerful as she proceeded to inform her friends, "They've just begun learning how to co-exist, you see? None of the snakes tried to eat the peacocks and none of the peacocks tried to trample the snakes."

Lucius swung an arm around her shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm proud to announce that Lyra and I are proud parents to a bunch of peacocks and snakes."

Lyra wiped non-existent tears from her eyes. "Every moment with them is precious. They grow up too fast," she told them, prompting peals of laughter to float into the air.

It was past midnight when the guests of the Yaxley Manor finally began to leave. The sky was woven with hues of purple and saturations of blue and dotted with twinkling stars and beneath this landscape stood Dennis, satisfied by the success of the reunion.

Lyra, Lucius, Theodore and Cassandra lingered behind, watching as the others provided compliments and empty gratitude to Dennis for organising the event and saying that they needed to have another reunion soon. Dennis nodded with a smile the entire time, thanking them for coming and agreeing with their words.

When half the guests had left, Lyra lightly nudged Theodore and motioned with her eyes to a shadow-cloaked area beneath an oak tree and started strolling towards it, silently asking for him to follow her. Theodore did.

Cassandra and Lucius watched them temporarily leave before the former took the opportunity to pose Lucius a question she hadn't felt entirely comfortable asking Lyra, "Why was Lyra's surprise party cancelled last evening?" Cassandra politely inquired more out of curiosity than in need of a new topic to gossip about.

"Well, Lyra and I arrived in London last morning so the whole 'surprise' element wasn't allied properly. Not to mention, one of Lyra's uncles has come down with an illness," Lucius explained, infusing his lies with just enough truth to make sense. "And you know how the Blacks are— all of them or none of them. So, the party was cancelled."

"That's a pity. I do hope Lyra's uncle feels better though." She paused. "Which uncle is it, exactly? It would be appropriate for me to send a 'get well soon' letter."

Thinking fast, Lucius intoned, "Lord Potter," hoping he would play along to Lucius' gambit. Out of all of Lyra's uncles, Lord Potter and Alphard Black seemed most likely to join in, but as far as Lucius knew, Alphard was in Bulgaria and wouldn't be in England that day nor was he present yesterday, so Lord Potter had been the most appropriate choice for him to say.

Cassandra bought it, nodding her head understandingly and proceeding to comment how the winter weather that year was truly horrid and how seemingly everyone was falling ill.

Meanwhile, Theodore leaned against the bark of the tree trunk, putting his hands in the pockets of his robes for futile warmth.

"Why are you doing that?" Lyra asked, her silver hair and white gown blending with the snowy background. "The warming charms are efficient. I'm actually feeling a little hot."

"I look cool in this stance," Theodore replied with a playful grin and a shrug of his shoulders, bringing Lyra to roll her eyes. Soon, a sombre expression knitted into his disposition. "I gathered you wanted to speak to me... What happened? Is something wrong?"

"That depends on perspective," Lyra chirped calmly, mimicking Theodore's position and resting her head against the bark of the oak tree. "I heard you and Cissa have death looming over you."

"Ah," Theodore chuckled weakly. "Do you happen to know the context?"

"Roughly, yes."

"Your dearest Narcissa nearly murdered my little brother," Theodore said, a sudden coolness entering his voice that blended with the winter atmosphere "And thinking back on the way you behaved when that halfie almost killed yours, you have no right to judge me for my current actions."

"I'm not."

"Don't interfere either," Theodore warned. "This isn't your battle. It's between me and Narcissa, only one of us will make it alive."

"Cassandra is planning your wedding," Lyra spoke softly. "Duelling to the death sounds so silly. Wouldn't it be better to resolve conflicts in not-so fatal ways?"

"That would be ideal, but I'm afraid it's not possible at this instance. We've gone too far, might as well go all the way."

"Does Cassandra know?"

"Yes."

"And?" Lyra prompted.

"She's neutral," Theodore told her, tone devoid of emotions. "Cas avoids talking about this, she doesn't like the whole situation, and I respect her wishes."

"This needs to stop and you know it. I'm sure Cissa does as well. Do you really want Cassandra to become a widow before she even marries?"

"I'm not going to allow that to happen. I'm not going to die. Narcissa will."

"But then this immoral cycle will start," Lyra mused in a whimsical voice. "Hypothetically, if you kill Cissa, Leonard will kill you. Then Cassandra will kill Leonard, Penelope will kill Cassandra, which will inevitably begin the feud between the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of Greengrass and Rowle. Let's explore another theoretical scenario. Should Cissa kill you, Cassandra will kill Cissa, then Leonard will kill Cassandra, and again, we'll reach the disastrous, fated end. When my brother was harmed, the attacker was an unknown. No family, nobody who cares. But you— it's different. Do you really want to doom two Houses because of this incident?"

Theodore stared at her.

Lyra's brows bunched up at his action. "What?"

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You mentioned Cassandra, Leonard and Penelope committing murder. What about you? I assumed you would have been the first one to do so. I had assumed, by now, I would have already been dead because of you."

Lyra smiled faintly. "Recently, I've been advised not to interfere with other people's problems. So, don't worry, I won't do anything."

Theodore gazed at her oddly. "This isn't one of those situations where you say you won't do anything but I end up buried under a tombstone, is it?"

"It isn't," Lyra promised. "This time, I'm not going to interfere at all. What happens between you and Cissa is none of my business."

"And yet, you're telling me to resolve things peacefully," Theodore said dryly.

Lyra laughed shortly. "It's been brought to my attention recently that I'm also a hypocrite."

"Now who is that bold person who told you things that would have gotten others killed?"

"It's Narcissa," Lyra answered with a small smile. Then, she abruptly hugged Theodore, who returned the embrace after a moment's hesitation. "Don't die," she said when she stepped back.

Theodore smiled tightly. "I won't." He paused. "Wow, it feels odd."

"What does?"

"The entirety of this situation," Theodore chuckled. "I thoroughly expected you to kill me or, at the very least, threaten me to take it easy on Narcissa."

"As I said, I'm going to mind my own business from now on. Or try to."

Theodore nodded and they both began walking back to where Cassandra, Lucius and Dennis —who had now finished sending off everyone else— were standing. "Hey, Lyra?"

"Hmm?"

"I'll leave you something in my will if I die," Theodore nonchalantly informed her.

"You better," Lyra teased, semi-seriously.

Theodore's lips quipped upwards. "Do me a favour though? If I do end up dying."

"Depends on the favour."

"Make sure Cas leads a happy life— it could be a short life or a long life. Just, check up on her. I respect whatever decision she makes, if she chooses to avenge me or anything, but please make sure she's happy."

"I'll try," Lyra said because that was the best she could do in such a situation.

Theodore nodded gratefully in acceptance. Then, both of them forced a smile onto their faces and walked towards their respective partners, wishing Dennis a farewell before apparating away.

In a shadow-cloaked room in a handsome Manor was a man —if he could still be called as such— with glowing, eerie bloody slits for eyes and ghostly pale skin. He walked around the room, dimly lit by a few candles, admiring the amalgamation of presents that had been lined up.

He harshly judged every gift by its appearance and this was why, a large jute basket which contrasted all its neatly wrapped counterparts caught his attention, beckoning him to stroll towards it.

He saw the greeting card tied to its handle first and opened it, reading the simple message inside first.

Argentina apples are delightful to eat. We picked some up specially for you from our travels, and hope you enjoy eating them. We're visiting Malaysia next but managed to pick up a present for you from that marvellous country in advance. Thank you for everything, and we hope you have a blessed Yule ahead.

Yours truly,

Lucius A. Malfoy and Lyra C. Black.

The Dark Lord peaked into the basket, finding it filled with apples. But curled onto one of those apples was a tiny, baby snake, deep in its slumbering.

He observed the Reticulated Python, feeling a smile form without his consent at the thoughtful nature of the gift he had received.

Then, he breathed out into the darkness the name he chose for it, "Nagini,"