𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗹 | 𝗵.𝗷.𝗽

fourth year .*･｡ﾟ.*･ 25

t h i r d p e r s o n (L y r a)

Lyra stood, fidgeting, in front of the floor length mirror, tugging anxiously at the sleeves on her dress. The dress was midnight blue, and covered in small, embroidered silver stars that glittered in the light.

"Don't be nervous, Ly," Hermione comforted, fixing her hair in place with thousands of hidden bobby pins. "You look stunning."

"I don't know," Lyra said uncertainly, trying and failing to get her hair to lay flat. She had never known how to do it right. Her stomach knotted unpleasantly. "I have to look perfect."

"You already look perfect," said Hermione casually, exiting the bathroom, holding a half empty can of muggle hairspray.

"Would you like me to do your hair?" She asked, brandishing the hairspray and a hairbrush. Lyra nodded gratefully, and Hermione instructed her to sit on the floor in front of her.

She ran the hairbrush through Lyra's blonde locks gently, smoothing it and then parting it perfectly down the middle. Her hands working at her hair softy, braiding it.

"Ah, Hermione!" Lyra exclaimed once Hermione had finished. "You're a life saver!"

Hermione flushed, smiling pleasantly. "It's nothing. You should head into the hall, now, I still have to put on my dress."

Lyra nodded, and she headed into the decorated entrance hall, searching the crowd below for her respective date. Lyra spotted Harry, looking very handsome in immaculate dress robes.

He finally noticed her as she stepped carefully down the staircase, taking caution not to tread on the front of her long navy blue long dress.

His emerald green eyes were filled with something like adoration. His face cracked open into a wide grin, his cheeks pink. Lyra smiled back bashfully, reaching him.

"Hi, Harry," she said, her grey eyes sparkling in the dim light. "You look..." she searched for an adequate word. "You look really handsome."

He looked down shyly. "You look beautiful," He met her eyes again. "You are beautiful."

Lyra blushed so furiously she had to look away, mumbling quietly in appreciation. Her saviour came in the form of Professor McGonagall.

"There you are, Potter." She said, sounding relieved. "Are you and Miss Malfoy ready?"

"Ready, professor?" Harry said, confusion lacing his voice.

"To dance," McGonagall said, as though it was obvious. Fuck, Lyra thought hopelessly.

"It's traditional that the three champions- well, in this case, four- are the first to dance. Surely I told you that."

"No." Harry looked very put out, but it was nothing compared to how Lyra probably looked.

"Oh, well, now you know." She looked at Ron, who had appeared beside Harry, and grimaced. She touched the frilly lace collar of his dress robes sympathetically.

"As for you, Mr Weasley, you pay proceed into the Great Hall with Miss Patil." Parvati, Ron's date, stood behind his shoulder, wincing at his robes. She hesitantly took his arm and steered them into the Great Hall.

Lyra turned around as Hermione tentatively stepped down the stairs into the entrance hall. She looked stunning in a floor length, flowing pink dress.

"She looks gorgeous!" Lyra gasped quietly.

"Yeah, she does..." Harry agreed. Lyra didn't notice that that his eyes were on her.

Krum, who Lyra recently found out was Hermione's date, approached Hermione, and inclined his head to her, outstretching a hand for her to take. They passed Lyra and Harry, arm in arm, and Hermione giggled in greeting.