𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗹 | 𝗵.𝗷.𝗽

third year .*･｡ﾟ.*･ 9

t h i r d   p e r s o n  (L y r a)

Lyra was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, waiting impatiently for Harry to arrive. He was having a little study session with Professor Lupin, which Lyra was, to be honest, a little jealous of.

Suddenly the portrait hole swung open and in steps Potter, Hair everywhere, as always, and grinning widely, looking immensely proud of himself. Lyra couldn't help but beaming too, it was contagious.

"Hiya Hazza, how was Lupin?" She asked kindly as Harry flopped back onto the couch she was hogging and forced her to move over.

"Great. Really." He sighed, closing his eyes and running a hand through his already windswept black hair.

"Mhm?" She asked, staring at him, particularly the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, stark and pinkish.

"Yeah," he said.

"Can I tell you something?" He opened his eyes to look at Lyra, and she watched his pupils dilate in the light. She nodded and he continued.

"Y'know that thing, the animal, that Lupin used to send the dementor away on the train?" He didn't wait for a reply, he knew she remembered. "Well, I asked him to teach me how to do it."

"And, today, I finally did something." Lyra could hear the smile in his voice. Her heart did a backflip.

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡

"Beautiful day," Hermione commented, walking fast through the courtyard. Lyra by her side and Ron and Harry trailing after them.

"Gorgeous. Unless of course you've been ripped to shreds." Ron replied coldly. Lyra snorted and Ron glared at her, she made a rude gesture to him in response.

"Ripped to pieces?" Harry asked, clueless. "What are you talking about?"

"Ronald has lost his rat." Hermione said blankly. Lyra knew she called him Ronald just to annoy him. It seemed to work.

"I haven't lost anything!" He said, incredulously. "Your cat killed him!"

"Rubbish!" And she and Lyra walked ahead, attempting to chat between themselves, but it was quite hard not to overhear Ron chatting shit about Crookshanks, Hermione's cat.

Hermione spun around quickly. "Well maybe you should learn to take better care of your pets!"

"Your cat killed him!" Ron repeated, irritated.

"Did not!"

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡

"How did it go, Hagrid? The hearing?" Hermione asked the unusually giant man skipping stones on the dark surface of the black lake.

"Well, first off, the committee members took turns talking about why we were there." He said, and skimmed another flat stone.

"An' then I got up, did my piece. Said how Buckbeat was a good hippogriff, always cleaned his feathers." Lyra stomach contracted uncomfortably, and she must have been noticeable because Ron, who was standing next to her, lightly gripped her shoulder.

"And then Lucius Malfoy got up. Well, you can imagine." Lyra definitely could, at least. "He said Buckbeak was a deadly and dangerous creature who'd kill ya as soon as you look at 'im."

"And then?" Hermione asked expectantly. If she was being honest, Lyra really didn't want to know, she felt connected to Buckbeak, and couldn't imagine how Hagrid was feeling.

"And then he asked for the worst, did old Lucius."

"They're not sacking you!" Ron said loudly, hand still firm on Lyra's shoulder. It was comforting.