Effervescence | h.p.

i | xxiii. a cause for concern

Sleepily, Lyra asked where her friend had been so late, or technically, so early.

It was after one o'clock in the morning, and Hermione was just coming into the dorm where she was supposed to be asleep.

"I was just . . . reading in the common room, no big deal," Hermione responded slowly, hoping she sounded relaxed enough to avoid suspicion.

"Oh, okay. You know, you really shouldn't stay up so late reading, especially in the common room," Lyra said back softly.

Lyra was exhausted. There were about four more days until the full moon would take her and do what it wanted with her wolf-form. She was trying her hardest to sleep because despite how tired she was, she couldn't stay asleep for more than two hours at a time.

Her body ached worse than it ever had when she was at home, which she concluded was because her fathers would give her small doses of pain-relief potions and would occasionally give her Sleeping Draughts.

Her restlessness was directly correlated to her nearly unbearable pain. Due to her inability to sleep for any prolonged period of time, she had caught Hermione sneaking back into the dorm, something that no one else noticed.

Lyra figured that Hermione's story would've checked-out; what could she have done other than simply reading in the common room? Maybe she fell asleep there, but she had eventually made her way back to bed.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that no more questioning came after the initial and obvious question of her location.

Hermione couldn't help but feel a bit touched by the concern that had been entwined into Lyra's sleepy tone. Because of this, she felt worse for lying to, quite possibly, her only friend; Lyra was concerned about her whereabouts and Lyra had just been lied to, unknowingly.

Hermione was left to her thoughts as she quickly got herself ready for bed. She only, really, had one overbearing thought coursing through her running mind, no matter what she tried distracting herself with, this kept coming up; tomorrow was going to be one long day.

As 'Mione got ready for bed, running through her routine, Lyra tossed and turned, praying to whatever higher power there was for relief. She wished she had her dads or Harry to be near her as she lay awake; maybe she could talk to the other boys in the dorm with Harry about her staying there for a few nights.

Harry being near her could usually calm her and bring her enough comfort for her to fall into a sleepy state. She could usually fall asleep quite quickly when she was near him and she figured it was because of his familiarity — he reminded her of home.

Everyone would probably get suspicious if Lyra spend a few days each month in the boys dorm, though — especially Hermione. Hermione would, actually, probably scold Lyra for sleeping with the boys because each group was supposed to stay in their own dorm. This rule was so enforced that the stairs to the girl's dorm would immediately turn into a slide if any guys tried to use them.

Maybe Lyra could just slip out of the room for the night . . . but then she would be disrespecting the privacy of the other boys in Harry's dorm. She would need to wait until at least the next night, after she would've asked all the guys if they would be okay with her being in their room for a few nights a month. Maybe she would have to tell them her secret; she felt that most of them were trustworthy — thus far, at least.

With these thoughts, Lyra fell into an uneasy sleep, which she would wake up from within the next hour and a half.

The next day at breakfast, almost every first-year Gryffindor noticed how pale and sickly the Girl-Who-Lived looked. Dean, Seamus, Neville, Ron, and Hermione had realized how utterly sick she looked, but they had no explanation other than maybe a cold. Only Harry and some professors currently knew of her condition.