The Great War // Sirius Black

Sequel to Style, a Sirius Black Fanfic
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When you fight your entire life for something, and suddenly, it's standing a few feet away from you-how are you supposed to react? Is it supposed to be a joyous occasion? Or is it almost numbing, knowing that all that work was over and everything you had done to reach it no longer mattered? Whether small hurdles jumped around or an endless train of pain and revenge you had walked-what is it supposed to feel like?

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Her mind stayed close-she wouldn't let it roam too far right now outside of her own boundaries. With the whispers of what might be happening with the Dark Lord, Lyra couldn't risk a moment of her time. She didn't believe Voldemort was back, but still, she was better safe than sorry right now. Plus, she couldn't focus enough energy on her legilimency now, not when the reason she fought on for so long stood so close-but she couldn't keep that same control with her mouth.

"Harry Potter!"

When you fight your entire life for something, and suddenly, it's standing a few feet away from you-how are you supposed to react? Is it supposed to be a joyous occasion? Or is it almost numbing, knowing that all that work was over and everything you had done to reach it no longer mattered? Whether small hurdles jumped around or an endless train of pain and revenge you had walked-what is it supposed to feel like?

The pub fell silent as her words echoed on the walls. When his regard met hers, Lyra's frigid heart grew weak. She was vulnerable, open to any attacker as she stared at him. He looked confused, straining to see who had called his name over the group of redheads surrounding him. But Molly gave the blonde a nod, stepping aside and giving the thirteen-year-old boy a bit of a shove towards where she stood. Lyra followed suit, meeting him halfway.

"Hi?" His voice was unsure, and the sound of it was heaven to Lyra's ears.

"My name's Lyra. Lyra Potter....Can I tell you a story?"