BURNED DREAMS▪️ F. WEASLEY ▪️ REWRITING!

chapter XIII: lyra

 

As autumn came and went, and winter started, Lyra slowly started to prepare herself for her arrival home. What would it look like? Would Bella hug her? It had always bothered Lyra; that lack of affection in her childhood — it was exactly why those thoughts ran over her head. Her own family was unreadable to her, and the unknown scared her. Lyra wasn't used to fear.

''Uh, excusez-moi? Are you listening?''

''Yes, of course.''

''Okay, so — and I'm like Lynn, you basically cheated on me... and she goes all crazy, starts screaming how it was actually me who cheated on her — can you believe that? She's so manipulative. I'm not even going to acknowledge her once. . .''

Ruelle kept her blabbering on for at least an hour and once the trolley lady came, she shut up for a moment and continued about her murderous great grandfather who was apparently a big supporter of Grindelwald. Welcome to the club, Lyra wanted to say but it was smarter to keep her mouth shut about those things; you never know who's listening.

''I think I need to go the bathroom.'' Lyra said and caught Ruelle when she wasn't talking. She loved her, but everyone knew Lynn and Ruelle would get back together once the second term starts, so it was better not to meddle in their relationship problems. It had become a routine for them, that whole talking about Lynn and Ruelle, and it was exactly why Katherine disappeared each time they sat on the Hogwarts Express.

The halls of the train were almost empty and just when she thought she was alone, Draco jumped out from somewhere and scrunched his eyebrows at his cousin. She remembered him when he wasn't so tall so she could smack him without any problem. Now she had to stand on her toes, even if she wanted to look at his forehead.

''Stop avoiding me,'' he said. Looking more worried than ever, Lyra didn't know if it was because of meeting with his psychotic aunt or that the person he grew up with would flee every time she saw him.

''I'm not.'' she said simply and continued walking towards the toilet. Unfortunately, Ruelle, Katherine and she chose the cabin furthest from Slytherins and ended up near the Gryffindors.

Draco rolled eyes and over his face flew a shadow. He somehow appeared older to her and she could not describe the nostalgia that ran through her. Draco was her only family until now. What would happen once the Hogwarts Express stops at the Platform?

''We haven't talked since I told you about the Christmas plans.''

''What is there to talk about, Draco? I'll fight my way out of it. Bella is home too.''

''You say that word like you know where home is.''

The words were like daggers into her heart that left her to bleed out. Was he wrong, though? Really, where was home? Draco was right and now her place was with her family. Except Lyra had found her home in someone's warm arms nights ago, and her mind wouldn't — couldn't — let her forget him. I knew this would happen, I warned you, her voice of reason, that tiny, squeaky voice said when she would finally close her eyes and try to rest, and well. . .it only made her realize some things.

''Please, Draco,'' she sped up and passed by a group of third graders. ''We'll talk later.''

''There won't be later!'' he yelled, but his words got lost as she scrambled away down the hall. Every time they had to take a trip back to London, it would always tire her to that limit where she couldn't bear with anyone. She wondered why, as she walked down the hallway, with her head in clouds and thoughts all over the place, splattered in her head.

What now? What happens now when she has a family and a home? Would. . .would her mother be proud of what she will see? Would she see her younger self in her daughter? There were so many questions, so many problems and zero answers.

''Oh. . .uh, hi?'' he said, with some awe in his tone.

Once her shock had somewhat settled, for she hasn't seen him properly in weeks, Lyra managed to send a simple nod and tried to clamber past him. What was that feeling in her chest? She could almost not breathe and when she tried, the anxiety crawled its way towards her throat and squeezed its hands around it. His hand closed around hers and for a moment, the night and the memories sank in, and the familiar heat flushed through her, leaving only a glimpse of that moment. For a moment, perhaps, Lyra knew what she was getting herself into.

''Do you need something?'' she asked politely and let herself enjoy the warmness on her fingers. Only she would have to dangle her hand out of his very soon and forget his soft hug that drugged her — no, Lyra, no. Don't.

''I think we need to talk.'' Fred said and with the other hand scratched himself behind the ear. That way, under the pale light that the train provided, Fred's freckles were like a stars on a calm night just like his soft gaze was a cliff that she wanted to throw herself off; he was a contrast in a contrast, a book in a book.

''Let's talk then.'' Lyra crossed her arms over the chest. The answer caught him off surprise and left her studying him. All that confidence he demonstrated for her found him open, vulnerable when she peered her eyes at him. Lyra was her mother's daughter and Fred mustn't forget that.

''First, your question.'' his smirk and blush appeared fake.

''My what — oh, no.'' she said and covered her face with her hands. ''So you remember.''

''Just that part.'' he said, but the sentence didn't reach his eyes and that was what gave him away. Fred remembered everything; the electrifying touch, the gentle lips and simple jokes, everything.

''I don't have it.''

It was then when her cold answer confused him completely; all those small parts when he didn't understand her references or when she would give him a questioning look that hid curiosity and sarcasm — there were thousand examples and he remembered every one. Fred didn't understand her and he won't, but he enjoyed every moment of it. She was a challenge to him.

''Lyra, it wasn't me! I didn't leave the message, it was Rosalie — ''

''I know.''

''What?''

His answer was hoarse, as if he died then came back to life. The hurt that radiated from him was barely touchable, but it was still there and Lyra was no fool.

''Yes, I know. I'm not stupid, but she may be. Walking around the corridors and hissing vendetta at me sure isn't suspicious. I'm a pureblood, born and raised.''

Fred Weasley was quietly staring at her with his mouth wide open. While the fact that she knew definitely shook him more, what came next out of her mouth was something that made him grip her wrist so hard that she had to jerk her hand out of his. It was only then when she realized that some rules are meant to be broken.

''Fred Weasley, you better make up next time I see you or this won't end well.''