What would happen if there was a slight change in the family tapestry of The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black?
Specifically, four years before the birth of a certain Sirius Orion Black III, a little baby girl was welcomed into the world.
She wa...
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----------------------> STANDING ON THE BALCONY connected to her room with her elbows resting on the railing, she stared at the snowflakes as they performed a choreographed dance with the wind as they fell. Lyra traced the movements of one as it landed on the bridge of her nose. The cool breeze caressed her skin. Flushing due to the cold, a shy smile that's small and sweet tugged at her lips, causing her pearly white teeth to peek out as she focused on the snowflake with the utmost fascination, trying to carefully balance the snowflake as to not let it fall.
Donning a boatneck ivory coloured dress with a golden belt that hugged her waist before flaring out, and with her platinum hair up in a chignon, Lyra blended with the white ambience in the early morning of the winter wonderland.
Every breath that she exhaled was released in the form of mist. Another snowflake landed on Lyra's lashes. The corners of her eyes creased and crinkled in a hidden, childlike grin. Despite the warming charms she had applied to her clothes, Lyra habitually wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill.
There was a symphony of serenity present in the scene around her. The air thrummed with glee at the way the pretty snowflakes fell. Streaks of sunlight faintly gleaned over them, causing the snowflakes to glitter. Lyra closed her eyes as quiet contentment spread through her.
A familiar shriek pierced through the air the next moment, prompting Lyra's eyes to flare open. Her shoulders tensed momentarily, recollecting the striking similarity to back in her fifth year, when Lyra had rushed towards the infirmary wing, Sirius' screams getting louder and louder.
Instinctively, her arms fell and her fingers tangled into each other, trying to find the cold feel of the diamond ring that she had possessed for seven years. But in its absence, Lyra relaxed, reminding herself that such an incident would never occur again.
After all, neither she nor her brothers were at Hogwarts.
They were at the Potter Manor. Lyra reasoned that either James or Regulus had replaced Sirius' shampoo with honey again.
A warmth that juxtaposed the weather spread over her chest, and Lyra let out a long, slow breath. She viewed the falling snowflakes and white scenery once more, her grin growing as she hugged herself. Satisfaction settled in her soul and Lyra felt like she was floating, like she was flying and there was nothing that could—
"—JAMES CHARLUS POTTER!" Her godmother's voice cut through the sky like lightning and Lyra fondly wondered what stunt her godbrother had performed this time to earn the ire of his mother.
This was followed by a muffled voice, who she deduced to be Sirius saying, "Ohhh, she called your middle name..."
A thud sound succeeded it, accompanied by the sound of somebody yelping loudly. Loud, incoherent voices rang into the air and Lyra repeated the action of rubbing her arms to ward off the chill, the corners of her lips began curling upwards.
