lyra | harry potter

sixteen | cursed

DELICATE WHITE SNOW-FLAKES FELL onto Lyra's dark locks of hair, though she paid it no mind as she tucked her cold hands into her pockets while she walked. A few months had already passed and Christmas was rapidly approaching now, although she didn't like to think about it much because it only reminded her of last year's Christmas; more specifically, the fact that Sirius Black wouldn't be present for this year's.

She still had the letter he'd written her with the Draught of Peace he had gave to her as a gift last year. The letter might not seem like much to most people, but to Lyra it was something she cherished. The comforting words from the disowned Black let her know that there'd been at least someone who understood how she felt; and that in itself helped her feel at peace just as much as the potion did.

"For weeks you carry around this book, practically sleep with it, and yet you have no desire to know who the Half-blood Prince is?" Hermione was nagging at Harry, the two of them once again bickering over the used Potions book Harry had found in Slughorn's cupboards. The original owner of the book had written all over it, making his own amendments to potions ingredients and directions. Whoever it was had been pretty good at potions, if Harry's suddenly excellent ability in the class was anything to go by.

Harry leaned forward and looked past Lyra to shoot Hermione a look. "I didn't say I wasn't curious—and I don't sleep with it!"

"No, it's true," Ron spoke up from Hermione's right side as the four of them walked through the snow together. "I like a nice chat before I go to bed, and now all you do is read that bloody book! It's like being with Hermione."

Hermione pursed her lips at his comment, but didn't argue on the matter simply because it was true anyway. "Well, I was curious. So Lyra and I—"

"Went to the library," Ron and Harry finished for her simultaneously, already knowing where the conversation was headed. "And?" Harry asked the two girls.

"And nothing," Lyra told him, reaching up to fix her hat so it would cover her ears better.

"Nothing?" Ron asked.

"Yes, nothing," Hermione said, frustrated about the entire ordeal. They had spent hours in the library earlier that afternoon, she and Lyra, and neither of them had been able to find even remotely anything that might help them figure out who this mystery person was. "We couldn't find a reference anywhere to a half-blood prince."

The boys, though, weren't quite as put-out by it as she was. And frankly neither was Lyra, who was curious about it but not so caught up with it that it annoyed her not being able to find anything. "Well there we go, that settles it,then," Harry said with a shrug.

Hermione began to say something else,but stopped when they heard a familiar voice and looked up the path to see Slughorn stopping Flitwick on his way back toward the castle."I was hoping to find you in the Three Broomsticks!" He told the charms professor.

"No, uh, emergency choir practice I'm afraid, Horace." Flitwick laughed nervously, his excuse to not spend any more time around the potions professor so clearly a lie. Lyra raised her eyebrows at this, though couldn't entirely blame him at all. Slughorn was pretty hard to swallow, after all.

Harry glanced at his friends as Slughorn turned and continued down the path once more. "Anyone fancy a butterbeer?"

"Definitely," Lyra agreed,cupping her hands in front of her mouth and breathing some warm air into them. Her hands were typically cold year-round, but it was worse in the winter. "I'm freezing. Hopefully it will warm me up." She paused and looked up at Harry, who wasn't even wearing a hat, scarf or gloves. "Aren't you cold?"