𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 a draco malfoy fanfiction [✓]

xxii

22

C  O  N  F  U  N  D  O

( con - FUN - doe )

" to confuse "

_______________

THE HUSHED CHATTER around her bed roused Lyra from her unconscious state. Her eyelids fluttered to reveal a blurred reality of friends and family. Each too busy in their own worlds to notice her waking up.

"Dad." She croaked out in a hoarse voice.

Everyone around her sprung into action at the word. Her father tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and caressed Lyra's colourless cheek with his thumb.

"You gave us quite the fright, sweetheart." Her father said in a hushed tone.

She chuckled weakly through lidded eyes, the events of the afternoon playing in her mind like a never ending reel.

"Is Harry alright?" She asked in a frantic manner, "Oh, Merlin. Tell me he's okay!"

Mrs. Weasley grip onto Lyra's hand with a warm, bright small. "He's on the bed next to you, Dearie." She squeezed Lyra's hand, "Quite the day you to have had."

Lyra looked over each person that crowded her bed, now including Harry who had jumped to his feet when she woke up. Her father and Sirius sat beside each other. Molly Weasley and Remus Lupin were opposite, talking in hushed whispers.

She noticed Remus occasionally glance at her neck with a pained expression.

"Can someone get me a mirror?" She coughed, pushing herself up with frail arms.

"Why, dearie? You look radiant." Mrs. Weasley beamed, warming Lyra's heart.

"Everyone's looked at my neck at least twice," Lyra closed her eyes, snapping them open after a replay of her injury appeared, "Which means something's there, I'd just like to see it."

Remus transfigured an empty coffee mug into a mirror, he reluctantly handed it to Lyra. Each adult watched with baited breath when she pointed it towards her neck.

A pearlescent scar ran from just off centre in the middle of her neck, stretching out the the edge of her shoulder. She ran her finger over it delicately, like a piece of glass, seconds away from shattering.

Lyra places the mirror at her bedside in silence, lifting her hand to run across her torso. She traced the covered scars that raised under her skin in tracks of pink. One ran from the underside of her chest to the edge of her rib cage, two smaller ones ran the same way underneath.

Two smaller scars were littered across her collar bone, lying three inches down her chest. Her eyes danced towards Remus.

"I want to say they don't bother me," She murmured, "but they do, I feel sick."

Her father kissed her temple, something he would do every night when she was a child. "You're still beautiful, sweetheart." His irish accent made her let out a breathy laugh.