****Lyra's P.O.V.****
Uncle let out a cruel, cold laugh. "She called it, you know? She knew it." He started laughing like a maniac. He did this sometimes, I've heard, when he got sick with grief. He did it when James and Lily Potter died, when Peter Pettigrew faked his death, at my funeral. It seems weird saying that - my funeral. I know it happened, sure it happened, but I'm breathing now, I'm alive. Alive for Harry, who wants me dead.
Alya stepped up, her grey eyes cold as steel. "Sirius Black, pull yourself together!" She herself was changimg too, physically. Her hair turned black and her skin began to tan, and she had to summon a pair of thick round glasses. I don't know how I could see her. It was sort of like my eyes were open, but they weren't. I could only see as far as I would be able to if my eyes were open from the laying position I was in.
"Oh, good, Alya, you're back to normal again."
Gabrielle stormed into the room, and I was thankful she wasn't Veela enough to shoot fire, or we'd all be gone. "What do you mean 'she's dying from heartbreak'?" He accent had also gotten less prominent since her family decided to move to England. (Fleur begged her parents to let her stay for Bill Weasley.)
"Medically speaking, it's called takotsubo cardiomyopathy," the nurse explained. "More commonly known as Broken Heart Syndrome, it can often be triggered when a person's emotions overload. Her heartstrings just . . . snapped."
I felt four people climb into the bed by my feet. Hermione, Sarah, Hannah and Gabrielle. Three of my best friends and my sister. Half of me just wanted to call out, 'hey, it's me, I'm alive!', but my other, darker half wondered if maybe this was for the best. They got over me before, I'm sure they could do it again.
This darker side is what's going to keep me in my coma.
****
And so it continued. Harry still hated me, Uncle was still going mental, Sarah was still uncharacteristically quiet, and I was still in a coma. There were times, of course, when I wanted to wake up, desperately, but I just couldn't. There was always something holding me back.
Harry. He was the reason I was in this coma, and until I get over him, I'll stay here, stuck between two worlds, the living and the dead. But I just can't. I can't get over him, him. Harry Potter, the first boy I've ever loved, and at this rate, probably the last. Gabrielle and Bella have been coming about once every few days to update me on what's happening.
Some gossip, and some big news, like Remus finding his long lost lover, Bella discovering she's their child, and Gabrielle and Aaron going strong. Also things like the D.A., like how Neville, among others, now have cruel messages carved into their skin. How Marietta Edgecombe, Cho's best friend, was interrogated with Veritaserum. I was shocked when they came in terrified. (Internally. I can't exactly move externally.)
"Lyra, I don't know if you can hear me, and I know you and Harry are sorting through some issues, but he's missing. Harry's missing, and so are Hermione and Neville and Luna and Sarah and Ginny and, oh Lyra!" Bella collapsed in a mess on my bed, and I wanted so terribly bad to reach out and comfort her.
"They've gone to save Sirius," Gabrielle added softly. "Harry had a vision that your uncle was being tortured in the ministry, so they went to save him." I felt something hot roll down my cheek - a tear, and not one of theirs.
****
I heard small, scared footsteps echo through the hospital wing. A warm, callused hand slid into mine, and I immediately knew who it belonged to. Harry's hand, the hand I wasn't sure I wanted but couldn't let go of, grasped mine even tighter than before.
"Ly. Oh Ly, I'm so sorry. I'm not sure if you can ever hear me, but I know you. I know who you are, Lyra Rose Black, and I love you for it. I love your grey eyes, your slightly crooked but beautiful smile, your golden hair, I love how you will always, have always put yourself before anyone in the face of danger. I love how you would say 'I love you' with so much emotion it would make my heart melt, and I love how you're imperfect, because that's the most beautiful thing about you. I love how when you get scared you'd cuddle into me, and I love how you'd never wish me dead. And Ly, I am so sorry." Harry was crying now, his head laying softly on my stomach.
"He's gone, Ly. Sirius is gone. Bellatrix Lestrange killed him. It's all my fault. Voldemort wanted me to see Sirius being tortured, it was all a trap, and I fell right into it. It's all my fault." I felt something snap inside of me, and I lifted my hand. I stared at it for a moment.
"H-Harry, it's not your fault." I croaked.
He tackled me in a hug. "Ly! Oh Merlin, Ly you're awake!"
I shoved him off, full on sobbing now. "I don't get you, Harry Potter." His grin faded.
"What do you mean, Ly?"
"What do I mean? What do I mean? For weeks you've been telling anything that breathes that you want me dead. I know, Harry, I get it. The only fatherly figure you've ever had is dead."
"Yeah, Lyra." He stood up abruptly, shooting his chair behind him. "You get it. You, who's always had someone. Sarah, Hermione, Ron, all of them, you've always had them. Yeah, Lyra, you died, boo hoo. Do you have to defeat Voldemort? Have you lost everyone close to you? No, you haven't. You know nothing, Lyra Black."
"My father is dead, Harry, Just like yours. My father figure is dead, Harry, just. Like. Yours. I have lost just as much as you have. A year of my life, gone. My best friend, gone. Anyone I thought I could trust, gone. Except Bella and Gabrielle, but even they weren't what kept me alive. You were, Harry Potter.
"You, who almost killed me, kept me alive."
(A/N: Sorry, I know it's short, but I needed to update. Also sorry that I haven't updated any of my books for a while; school just started and I'm trying to get back on track. Soccer's back again, too, and academic team will be restarting soon. I'm really trying, and I'm incredibly sorry updates are running thin. Thank you so much to anyone who's stuck with me all this time - this chapter is for you!)
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Snowflakes {Harry Potter}
Fanfiction"I'm not scared of falling, Harry. I'm scared of having nobody there to catch me. Because you know what happens then? Then I break." Lyra Archer never knew her parents, and spent her life so far growing up in an orphanage on Privet Drive. No one to...