Constellations of Black

Chapter 46

Lyra was secretly thankful that classes weren't in session for the next week after opening her post. She had resorted to hiding away in the Come and Go room, wanting to deal with her racing mind alone. Lyra wore her father's sweater to combat the combined chill of the castle and the late December weather in the Scottish highlands. It smelled of him and a faint smell of warm vanilla, orange, cinnamon, and cedarwood. She thought it smelled good. It completely contrasted with her father, who smelled of mahogany, cloves, and incense.

With a sigh of relief, Lyra settled into the cosy study provided by the enchanted room. A large day-bed beckoned invitingly beneath the expansive window, casting soft rays of winter light upon the stacks of parchment scattered across the desk. The room seemed to echo her silent invitation to pour her heart onto paper, to release the torrent of thoughts and emotions swirling within her.

With determination, Lyra allowed her quill to dance across the parchment, each stroke a testament to the depth of her feelings. She penned letters to her father, her mother, Narcissa, Uncle Sirius, and her maternal grandmother Augusta, each missive an anguished plea for understanding, for clarity in the face of uncertainty. Yet, as the ink dried upon the pages, Lyra grappled with the weight of unspoken truths and unanswered questions. With a heavy heart, she consigned the letters to the flames, watching as the cursive-inked words dissolved into wisps of smoke, mingling with the crackling embers of the fire.

Alone with her thoughts once more, Lyra sought solace in the silence of the room, the flickering flames casting shadows upon the walls as she wrestled with the tumultuous tempest raging within her soul.

Drifting towards the day bed with weary steps, Lyra sank into its welcoming embrace, the soft cushions cradling her exhausted body. With heavy eyes, she gazed upon the mesmerizing dance of the crackling embers, their warm glow casting flickering shadows across the room.

As the gentle murmur of the fire filled the air, enveloping her in its comforting embrace, Lyra felt the weight of her worries begin to lift. The rhythmic crackling seemed to lull her into a state of tranquil serenity, washing away the tumult of her mind with each soothing flicker of light.

With a contented sigh, Lyra surrendered to the blissful oblivion of sleep, her thoughts fading into the darkness as she slipped into a dreamless realm. Wrapped in the cocoon of warmth and peace, she found solace in the quiet sanctuary of the Come and Go room, where time seemed to stand still and worries melted away into the gentle embrace of slumber.

Regulus took slow breaths, trying to concentrate on the large batch of Wound-Cleaning Potion that St. Mungo's had requested. He had successfully already brewed and bottled the batch of Blood-Replenishing Potion that the hospital had also ordered. Reg preferred the larger orders like these, usually bottling a few vials for personal collection on the chance it was needed. The larger the order, the more galleons he was paid which meant the more money he could freely spend on the twins.

That evening, Lyra sat on her bed, scrutinising the necklace multiple times over, as if it would disappear from her hold at any moment. Why would her father give her Anna's necklace now? Sure it could be a late Yule gift, but even then, her mother's garnet and emerald necklace? The letter sat on her lap, crinkled from where her forearms dug into it. A soft rap at the door alerted Lyra of Draco's presence in the doorway, enough to jostle her from the cloud of confusion.

"Yes?"

"So, your Mum's necklace?" Dray asked, the Slytherin wandering further into the dorm room.

"It was a wedding gift from my Dad to her. To..." Lyra trailed off, furrowing her brows as she stared over every edge of every jewel.

"What's the letter about?" He asked, trying to change the topic away from the jewellery. Lyra grabbed her wand and sent a silencing spell on the room.

"Dray, there's a secret my family's keeping and your mother knows it. She's keeping it too," Lyra grabbed the letter.

"What do you mean my mother is keeping a secret with your family?" Dray asked, suspicion crossing his face.

"I mean what I've said. My father wrote a letter telling me something that happened recently; she discovered my family's secret and confronted my father about it. Just promise me you won't be angry at her or Cetus and my dad for keeping it from you for a little longer. Be angry at me, please. Promise, Draco," Lyra finally looked at her cousin.

He frowned but hesitantly nodded.

"So your family, you, and my mother know? What about my father?"

"He doesn't know, Draco, and it might be for the best just a little while longer," Lyra answered, folding the parchment back up and letting the words scramble back into French codes. Draco seemed upset but nodded in understanding.

"Are you hungry? No one's seen you since breakfast this morning," Draco switched topics entirely, wanting to see his friend not as upset anymore.

As if to answer, Lyra's stomach growled, causing Lyra to flush in embarrassment. She had been so invested in her parcel that she had forgotten her body's basic needs. Draco pulled Lyra up and began leading her towards the kitchens from her dorm.

"The kitchen elves usually don't mind people visiting when they aren't preparing for a meal. I've had to get Pansy snacks just before curfew during that time," Draco explained quietly, dragging Lyra behind him.

"I never took you to be such a caring person, Draco," Lyra teased as the Slytherins came to a stop, surrounded by barrels.

"Shut up, Nerro," He hissed before opening the door and hiding his forming smile.

Three constellations sparkled, brightening each other. The dragon slithered around the lyre and the princess, plucking a small assortment of sweets and fruits for later. The princess enjoyed her pickings of fruit and a jacket potato. Stardust floated around the kitchen as laughter bubbled and blended with the celestial melody of the lyre as the cosmic beings shared stories of their childhood.

High above, in the lion's tower, the constellation of the sea serpent stared out the window. He stared longingly between the moon, the heart of the lion, the scorching star of Canis Major, and the lyre. He hadn't seen his cosmic counterpart since breakfast, instead spending time with the other lions in the library for most of the day. The sea serpent let his mind run wild; a longing tugged at his celestial form. The ethereal light of the stars cast a soft glow upon his aristocratic features, accentuating the longing etched deep within his hazel eyes.

As his mind wandered amidst the vast expanse of the cosmos, the sea serpent found himself yearning for connection, for a sense of belonging amidst the swirling constellations that adorned the night sky. He wondered if this was how his uncle, the scorching star, had felt at first as the only cosmic object in the lions' den. Though silent and solitary, his presence added a poignant depth to the celestial tableau, a silent testament to the complexities of longing and desire that echoed throughout the universe.