Lyra || Charlie Weasley ||

All the Weasley boys seem completely oblivious to matters of the heart.

The scent of sizzling pancakes and rich coffee envelops me as I enter the kitchen. Mum stands at the griddle, deftly flipping golden circles while Dad measures out ground beans beside her. Their familiar tandem routine brings a fleeting sense of comfort. We were back at Pottor Mannor for Christmas after two years and it feels nice, Harry's staying with us too.

"Morning!" I chirp, sliding onto a stool at the worn oak table.

Mum shoots me a welcoming smile over her shoulder. "There's the sleepyhead! Thought you would never rouse. Harry and Ara are playing Quidditch outside."

I manage a twitch of lips in return, but it feels more like a grimace I have to talk to them about Draco. Their chatter washes over me unheard as I chase the words that have haunted me for weeks. Finally Dad notices my lack of response. He frowns, glancing to Mum questioningly before focusing back on me. "Everything alright, love? You seem rather preoccupied this morning."

I twist my fingers anxiously, steeling my resolve. "Actually, there's something I've been meaning to discuss with you both..."

I trail off as Mum sets a heaping stack of pancakes between us, the aroma momentarily derailing my troubled thoughts. She claims the seat beside me, face open with concern. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"It's about Draco." I hesitate, hating to cause them more worry when they're finally free of past burdens. But refusing to meet their gazes proves impossible under the weight of responsibility I feel toward my wayward cousin.

"He hasn't been himself lately," I confess in a small voice. "Draco's paler than usual, exhausted. I heard he spends half his nights wandering the Astronomy Tower crying."

Mum and Dad exchange another loaded glance as I pick half-heartedly at my pancakes. Dad's brow furrows while Mum presses her lips thin, a small line appearing between her eyes. I recognize their silent communication from years growing up together as they debate how to respond.

After a weighty pause, Mum reaches across the table to lay a gentle hand over mine. "Sweetheart, I know you're worried for Draco. It's very kind of you." Her eyes radiate compassion. "But getting involved with that family again risks pulling you into the darkne-"

"You didn't see him, Dad," I argue, voice catching. "Draco was terrified. Of himself, of failing...I don't know exactly. But he begged me to stay away like he wants to protect me from something."

"Alright, love. We'll try reaching out to young Draco." Hope flares bright in my chest but he holds up a cautioning hand. "Discreetly only, mind. Can't let certain former schoolmates get wind we're interfering again."

I dart around the table to hug him fiercely. "Oh thank you! I just know we can get through to him." Dad wraps an arm around my shoulders, chuckling fondly at my enthusiasm.

I beam over at Mum who watches our exchange with a sad sort of pride. She brushes gentle knuckles over my cheek. "Such a soft heart you have, my little moon. Not unlike someone else I knew long ago."

"We'll do everything we can for the boy. Within reason," Mum stresses pointedly. "Your safety is the priority, Lyra. Promise you won't take any unnecessary risks?"

Her sharp eyes bore into mine until I nod solemnly. Satisfied, she folds me into a tight hug that conveys all her unspoken fears."Now go outside in the sun, play with your brothers." I'm nearly out the door when Mum's voice gives me pause. "Lyra, wait a moment!"

I shuffle back to the kitchen threshold, curiosity piqued. Mum stands wiping her floured hands on a towel, while Dad finishes tidying up behind her.

"We forgot to mention earlier - Molly invited us all over for Christmas dinner at the Burrow. I said we'd be delighted to come. That's alright with you, I hope?"