Effervescence | h.p.

ii | xvii. eviction

"Holy sh-" Lyra groaned wheezily. The wind had been knocked right out of her.

"There you are!" Hermione's voice cried out as she ran forward.

"What're you doing on the floor?" Ron asked, approaching slowly and offering his hand to her.

"Well I didn't mean to be down here," she said with a mocking smile after she had gotten to her feet. "What d'you mean 'there you are'? I've been here the whole time!"

"How long?" Harry asked her with a confused expression.

Lyra looked at the time. She'd been gone nearly two hours.

"I don't -- " she started, but shook her head with a sharp intake of breath, "never mind. Where were you all, then?" Lyra asked sassily.

"The library," Ron replied. "Didn't we tell you to meet there?"

"No," Lyra said with attitude. "Obviously not. What about the rest of Gryffindor? Expect they're in the library as well?"

"Probably the dueling club," said Harry, his brows never unfurrowing from her snarky remarks. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," she replied shortly before she turned and quickly made her way to her room, closing the door softly and pressing her back against it. What had just happened?

Lyra started walking to her bed and she had suddenly felt very overwhelmed, like everything happening had finally caught up to her and she needed to cry. Tears welled up in her eyes and she sat on the bed, pulling the curtain shut and casting Muffliato. Then she let all her tears out until there was nothing left but the feeling of her wet cheeks and her slightly tear-soaked blanket under her.

"Morning," Harry chirped unusually at her when she walked down the stairs the next morning.

"Mornin'," Lyra replied suspiciously. "You're up early, especially for a Saturday." Lyra had woken early, as she usually did. However, Harry was sitting in the common room much earlier than he was expected.

"Right?" he said with a lopsided smile. "It is very early," Harry repeated, looking at his watch which read 5:38.

"So why are you up?" said Lyra, laying over the arm of the couch with her head resting near a sitting Harry.

"Don't know," he shrugged honestly, messing with her hair, splayed around her head. "You?"

"I'm always up early," she said as she closed her eyes and raised her brows sassily.

They sat in silence, Harry watching the flame in the fireplace and mindlessly messing with Lyra's hair as she lay motionless, staring blankly at the ceiling. They sat there, enjoying each other's company and presence.

Lyra broke the peaceful air after about twenty minutes, saying quietly, "I miss my parents."

Harry was quiet a moment before he said, "Me too."

"How do they do it?"

"Do what?" he asked.

"Let us go off to school for months without seeing us."

He considered this a moment, finally claiming, "I don't know."

Lyra considered her next words carefully until she stated, "Sometimes I wish I had a mum. I wish I could have someone to cry about stupid things with -- not just my dads. I wouldn't want to cry to them about boy troubles."

"What kind of boy troubles?" Harry asked softly with an audible smile.

"That's not your concern, boy," Lyra muttered, tapping the end of his nose with her finger.