When a time-turner accident thrusts the Marauders, Regulus, Barty, Rosier, Lily, and her friends into a new timeline, they find themselves in a world unfamiliar and fraught with challenges. Tasked with uniting a fractured wizarding world, they must...
Lyra stood in front of the bathroom mirror, the steam from the hot shower still clinging to the air, making her reflection hazy. She reached up, wiping a hand across the glass, clearing the fog so she could see herself clearly. Her face was flushed from the heat, her long black hair damp and curling slightly at the ends. The sound of dripping water filled the small space as she grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her body tightly.
As she stepped out of the shower, she couldn't stop the barrage of thoughts that flooded her mind. Her encounter with Harry earlier had left her more rattled than she cared to admit. Their relationship was... complicated. The only thing that was clear between them was the overwhelming physical attraction that neither could deny, even when they should have known better. But Lyra knew it was more than that—something she was too scared to fully confront.
Why do I keep doing this to myself? she thought as she pulled on a chic, fitted white crop top with short sleeves and black piping that accented the edges. The top featured a row of buttons down the front, giving it a sophisticated yet modern look. She paired it with a sleek black mini skirt that hugged her waist, secured by a thin, gold chain belt that added a touch of elegance to the ensemble. On her feet, she wore black platform Mary Jane heels, her white socks peeking out, edged with delicate lace ruffles. The entire outfit was stylish and polished, but even in her carefully chosen clothes, she couldn't shake the unease gnawing at her.
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Why do I let him get under my skin like this?
She couldn't understand why Harry's actions affected her so deeply. Sure, they fought like cats and dogs, each trying to wound the other with harsh words and biting sarcasm. But beneath all of that, there was something else—a pull she couldn't resist, a connection she couldn't sever no matter how hard she tried.
Lyra walked over to the small table by her bed, where her schedule was neatly folded. She picked it up, running her fingers over the parchment, the inked words blurring slightly as she stared at them. I need to get this changed, she reminded herself, knowing that it would mean a trip to Dumbledore's office.
With a resigned sigh, she grabbed her wand and tucked it into her pocket, before heading out of her dormitory. The corridors of the castle were quiet, the early morning light casting long shadows on the stone walls. As she walked, her thoughts kept circling back to Harry, the knot in her stomach tightening with every step.
When she finally reached the entrance hall, she paused, catching sight of something—or rather, someone—out of the corner of her eye. There, just a little further from the castle, was Harry, sitting on a bench with a cigarette between his fingers. He was smoking, the thin trail of smoke curling into the air above his head, his expression brooding and distant.
Of course, she thought, her lips pressing into a thin line. Of course, he's here.
Despite her better judgment, Lyra found herself quietly approaching him, her footsteps light as she made her way over. She wasn't sure why she was doing this—maybe she just wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension that had been simmering between them since their last argument. Or maybe she just wanted to be near him, even if she couldn't explain why.
