"WHAT ARE YOU reading?" Lyra asks and crosses a leg over the other, smoothing over her skirt and straightening her tie as she does so. Her blue eyes peer at the book in Hermione's lap, seeing it's a book on Transfiguration.

"'Transfiguration, the magic of craft.'" Hermione smiles at her friend. "It's very insightful on this year's curriculum. I thought I'd read a bit on it." She places the book in the blonde witch's waiting hand, watching Lyra's eyes scan a few pages at an inhuman pace. Seconds later, Lyra looks back up at her and smiles.

"I love the way your mind works, Hermione Granger. Only you understand the importance of reading ahead."

"Great minds think alike, Ly." Hermione nods along.

Many, who aren't close to either girl, believe the typical rumor that Lyra and Hermione hate each other because of their titles as top of of their classes. It's a something both girls scoff at since it was probably created by students who couldn't even achieve their grades in their wildest dreams.

Although Lyra places above Hermione in their classes, the brunette can't find a single bone in her body to hold a grudge against the oldest Lovegood. When Ron and Harry were saying mean things about her in the beginning of their first year, it was Lyra to follow her into the bathrooms and comfort her. Even now when those boys are her best friends, Hermione still seeks Lyra's company when they become unbearable.

From studying together in the library to giggling over butterbeer in Hogsmeade, Lyra and Hermione are good friends who they both hope to never loose after Hogwarts.

Lyra links their arms together as they sit on a bench in the Champions Hall and Hermione goes back to reading. It is actually a dormant classroom the teachers emptied out to place the Goblet of Fire in, its brilliant blue flames capturing the attention of the room.

As Lyra watches people drop their names in, she reminds herself that any one of them could be selected for the dangerous tournament and have to look death in the eye. Witches and wizards have died horrible deaths in this competition and Lyra wonders if these volunteers know this fact. Did any of them educate themselves further about this competition they're so eager to enter?

Four Gryffindors and four Slytherins, two Ravenclaws and one Hufflepuff have come and gone with the own pieces of paper containing their name - the badger being Cedric Diggory, the sixth year Parvati was gushing over a few nights ago.

Lyra agrees he's good-looking but can't find the attraction in her for him so many girls have. From first glance, he has the typical 'golden boy' looks and seems very popular and social. Ergo, not her type. Lyra doesn't know exactly what her type is because she's never had a crush in her entire fifteen years of living but she knows it's not him. It is quite abnormal to not have one for a teenager, but it never bothered Lyra. All she needs is her family, friends and books.

Romance is something Lyra can think about in a few years' time, perhaps.

The Weasley twins run into the room with massive grins on their faces, hollering, their following words earning claps from everyone.

"Well, lads, we've done it!"

'-Cooked it up just this morning." They show off their vials of clear liquid. From the shine it gives off and the circumstances, Lyra concludes it's an aging potion that will definitely not work in the boys' favor. She chuckles and shares a look with Hermione, who is thinking the same thing.

"It's not going to work." Hermione muses loudly, a child-like playfulness in her voice.

The twins surround the girls, Fred leaning down on Lyra's shoulder and George crouching by Hermione. "Oh yeah?" Fred asks Hermione before wiggling his eyebrows at Lyra, who rolls her eyes

"And why is that, Granger?" George continues for his brother.

"You see this?" Hermione gestures to the blue circle of light around the goblet. "This is an Age Line. Dumbledore drew it himself."

"So?" Fred chuckles.

"So!" Hermione shuts her book, scoffing. "A genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dimwitted as an Aging Potion."

"But that's why it's so brilliant." George smirks.

"Because it's so pathetically dimwitted."

This earns a hearty laugh from Lyra. "So are you two."

"Have some faith!" Fred kisses her innocently on the temple, before standing on the bench with his brother. To others, that action would look like an intimate gesture, but Fred has always been an older brother figure for her and kisses on the temple from him are harmless.

The crowd that formed watches them drink the potion before jumping over the Age Line. A moment of silence occurs as they anticipate if the potion worked or not and when nothing happens, the twins cheer. But light suddenly shoots out from the fire of the goblet, attacking the boys and throwing them out the circle. They sit up, fingers touching their stark white beards and hair in horror.

Lyra bursts out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand as the twins tussle on the ground, blaming each other for their erupt age growth. Next to her, Hermione rolls her eyes at the situation but manages a slight smile as the blonde giggles away.

"Hi." Wren slides onto the bench, sitting next to her best friend.

"Hey Wren." Lyra's smile doesn't wipe off, cheeks red from laughter and eyes gleaming.

"What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?"

Lyra shrugs. "I'm going to study Astronomy until Nott gets off practice." She checks her watch. "Which you will be late for in ten minutes."

Wren ignores the last part. "You two are working on the potions essay right?" Lyra nods. "Great, then you can come watch our practice and meet up with him after."

Lyra's eyebrow quirks. "Or I could just study in my dorm? You know I don't find quidditch entertaining."

"You barely know a thing about it and haven't been to a match since first year, Lyra." Wren gives her a look.

"It's people flying on brooms with a ball, it's boring." Lyra deadpans before quickly saying. "No offence."

"No, what's boring is studying when tests aren't for months! Just come, please." Wren smiles hopefully.

She groans. "Fine. But I'm bringing my astronomy books."

"I never doubted for a second you wouldn't! Thanks Ly!" Wren kisses her cheek happily and Lyra playfully pushes her away, wiping it off. Guess she's quite popular with the kisses today.

"Want to come, Hermione?" Wren looks at the other muggle-born witch, who looks up from her book at the mention on her name.

"M-me?" Hermione stutters, making Lyra curious. Never has she seen her friend nervous about a simple invite before.

"No, the girl behind you." Wren smirks.

Hermione's cheeks turn pink. "Um, sure.."

"Great!" Wren grins. "I have to go change but you'll see me on the pitch. Thanks again, girls!" She gets up and jogs outside.

"That was weird." Lyra mumbles, watching her friend leave. Wren has never before asked her to watch her practice since she joined the team last year. Why now?

"I just said yes to watching her practice. There's nothing weird about that!" Hermione chuckles, quite awkwardly if you ask Lyra.

Her eyebrows raise. "I wasn't talking about that."

"Oh."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The quidditch stadium is ginormous once you actually sit in it, Lyra remembers now. From her window in Gryffindor Tower, it is a brown blob in hills of green but here from the first row, it's huge.

She and Hermione huddle together in their seats, both wearing their cloaks to hide from the chill in the air. Astronomy is open on her lap whilst Transfiguration is on Hermione's. The weren't alone in the stands as Lyra spots other students watching the open practice - all Slytherin and she didn't miss the looks shot their way.

The Slytherin team is currently playing a mock match in the air and every once in a while, she'd look up to spot Wren scoring ten points or dodging blundgers. The girl is good, Lyra has always known, but watching her do so well makes her happy. Wren hasn't had the best time on the team, being the only girl and a muggleborn. But her skills can't go ignored as discrimination of any player is against the rules, that Lyra knew about quidditch. But Wren is tough and it shows as she proves time and time again she deserves to be on the team.

Lyra looks down again, returning to reading the chapter on dark matter and energy. She didn't dislike or like the subject as it was not interesting to her (ironic since both her names are stars) but finding it an easy Outstanding to get on her report. Although, astronomy is important in potions as particular potions require knowledge of the lunar cycle to brew. That is something Lyra found interesting.

"She's brilliant." Hermione says, and Lyra looks at her to see her not readng like she thought she was but watching Wren play. Huh..

Lyra smirks. "You think?"

"Definitely - why are you looking at me like that?" Hermione questions.

"Nothing." Lyra looks back down at her book, a knowing smile on her lips.

"Nott, bloody hell! Focus!" Flint screams from somewhere below the stands and Lyra looks down at the captain before following his eyeline up just in time to see Theodore look the other way. He hovers randomly near the hoops, beater bat in hand, before flying back into the game.

Was he looking at her? Something flutters in her stomach. No, that's absurd. She kills it.

"What?" Lyra frowns, grippping her book tighter when sees the smile on Hermione's lips. It is a replica of her own seconds ago.

"Nothing." She mimics, before looking back out at the pitch.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"You were great, Wren." Lyra smiles as the girl approaches, sweating and breathing heavily in this cold weather. "Hermione couldn't keep her eyes off you!"

Hermione's eyes widen, looking at Lyra before she snaps her head in Wren's direction. "She's exag-"

"Don't worry about it, Granger. You flatter me." Wren winks, grinning at the brunette.

"I-" Hermione huffs."Nevermimd. I'm off to see Harry." She waves at them before walking away hurriedly.

"You're killing the poor girl." Lyra laughs.

"I know." Wren shrugs. "Didn't get too bored?"

"Nope. I actually kind of liked it. Only when you play though." Lyra says.

"Duh." Wren laughs before going in to hug her, but Lyra stepped away.

"You're sweaty." She winces, holding her books closer to her chest.

"You're fussy." Wren counters but her arms drop. "I'll see you at dinner?" She offers her fist.

Lyra nods, bumping her fist against hers. It's a muggle thing Wren taught her. Her friend disappears into the girls changing rooms.

Lyra sighs to herself, checking her watch to see it's five minutes past six. Should she leave or wait for Nott? Why is that even a question? She shakes her head and begins to walk away from the changing rooms but a sight before her makes her stop dead in her tracks and her breath hitch.

Theodore is talking to Blaise Zabini, walking in her direction, well, the changing rooms, and he is not wearing his quidditch gear. Or a shirt, for that matter. No shirt. Just his bare chest and stomach. Theodore Nott is shirtless.

Lyra didn't mean to stare, really, she didn't, but her eyes betray her. They trace from his sharp collarbones down his toned arms that he flexes as he gestures something to Blaise, oblivious to her taking in his light abs and lean torso. Water droplets run down his chest and his hair is now wet, pieces sticking his forehead from the rain.

It's raining?!

Lyra snaps out of her daze, realizing that it has started raining. She looks up at the grey, cloudy sky, feeling the raindrops splash on her face and into her eyes. She squeezes them shut and looks down again, feeling herself shiver as the water has soaked through her cloak and clung to her arms and chest. Her cheeks are warm, though, but she doesn't focus on that when she notices her books getting wet.

"No!" Lyra yells, freaking out as she sees the wet pages.

"Lovegood?"

She looks up, squinting through the rain and her wet hair to see a body run up to her, grabbing her arm and forcefully dragging her off the pitch and under the stands.

Under cover, Lyra wipes her hair out of her face, flinching at how cold her hands are.

"What the fuck?! Are you trying to get sick?" Theodore yells slightly, standing inches from her. Her eyes snap from his now shirt-covered chest to his dark green eyes staring down at her with annoyance but on a level she's never seen before. It made her annoyed.

"I didn't fucking know it would rain! Do I look like a weather witch?!" She matches his volume, their breathes being the only source of heat as it leaves their mouths. The sound of rain fills the silence after, both teenagers staring each other down.

Her teeth chatter and she wraps her arms around herself, book forgotten and shoved in her bag on the dry grass. She watches his eyes move from her lips to her shaking body and sees concern in them.

"I'm fine." She insists harshly, looking away from his stare to understand their surroundings. They stand together under the stands, the area dark and gloomy as the sky continues to cry. She can see the castle ahead. The space is cramped but dry.

"Tell that to your body. It's shivering like a leaf." Theodore scoffs before crouching and grabbing something from the dark ground, further from where they stand.

Lyra watches carefully, eyes narrowed. She pats her wet clothes down, cursing under her breath because she left her wand in her dorm. So stupid! She's not Wren! She's Lyra and she doesn't leave her dorm without her wand. Why is today the day that changed?

"Your bag?" She asks, through chattering teeth. "Why is your bag under the stands?"

"Because my friends are nosy and love to scratch around my things. I keep my bag with my changing clothes here instead." He replies, voice deeper as he takes in sharp breathes from the British cold.

"Oh." Is all she says.

Theodore takes out a green hoodie from this bag and stands to his full height, making the space smaller again. He takes out his wand too, damn it, and points to it, saying a spell underneath his breath.

She flinches when he steps towards her with the piece of clothing. "What do you think you're doing?" She steps away, not knowing what he did to it. What if he cursed it?

"For once in your life, don't argue with me, Lovegood." He says, glaring slightly. "Take it."

"What did you-"

"I cast a charm to keep the hoodie dry no matter what so you can get to the castle without increasing your chances of catching something." Theodore cuts her off, glaring more as she still hasn't taken it. "I'm freezing here and I'd like to change into dry clothes. Take off your cloak and put my hoodie on and go to your dorm or don't and get sick while I change right here, right now."

Lyra's eyes widen, remembering him shirtless and definitely not wanting to be here when he is again. Her fingers unclip her soaking wet cloak and she pulls the heavy material off, letting it drop with soft thud onto the grass, leaving her in her white blouse, tie, skirt and shoes.

Theodore turns around at the sight of her see-through shirt and wet skirt, clenching his jaw and shoulders tensing. He wants to help her and along the way, he gets tortured. Uccidilo. But he's a gentleman, contrary to the act he puts up, and he respects woman. Especially her.

Lyra sees him turn away respectfully and she raises an eyebrow, suprised, but grateful. She clears her throat, arm covering her chest and the other outstretched. He understands what she wants without her saying it, handing her the hoodie with his back still turned.

She takes the hoodie from him, quickly pulling it over her head to hide her flushed face. Her nostrils are ambushed with the smell of his cologne, warmth hugging her and making her shivering stop. The sleeves are longer than her arms and she takes advantge of it, balling the remainding material in her fist, cutting off any cold air from entering. The hoodie ends at her thighs, just above the end of her skirt, leaving her kness and lower part of her legs at the mercy of the weather. But it was enough.

She stands there for a few seconds, in his hoodie he gave her to keep her warm, looking at his back and listening to the rain. She lets out a shaky breath.

She never would have thought she'd end up in this situation when she woke up this morning.

"Lovegood?'

"Wha- hm?" Lyra jumps, blinking and looking away from his figure. "Oh, I'm done. You can- um, turn around." She stutters, wrapping her arms around herself again not because she's cold but to reassure herself she is still here and this is not some weird dream.

Theodore turns back around and feels so much better seeing Lyra not shivering anymore. When he saw her looking up at the sky on the pitch, school clothes wet, his concern for her kicked in and he didn't hesitate to grab her and pull her to shelter. Even then, she was still cold, not having his body heat he created in practice and looking like she'd get sick the longer she stayed in her cloak. So he gave her his hoodie he was wearing yesterday.

Theodore would be lying if he said seeing his crush in his clothes wasn't the highlight of his year. She stands in the big hoodie, arms wrapped protectively around her and wet hair pushed over her shoulders, the almost white color contrasting with the emereld green of his hoodie. Her blue eyes, which seem to grow pale on cold days, stare at him in a mixture of embarressment and awkwardness.

He smiles in his head.

"What?" Lyra questions, shifting as he continues to look at her.

"Nothing."

She groans. "I officially hate that word."

"I won't question it." He nods before tugging on the bottom of his wet shirt. "You better go."

"Uh, right." Lyra clears her throat but stays in place. "Just give me a second..."

Theodore raises an eyebrow but gives her the moment, confused.

"Thank you." She blurts.

Now he actually can't hold back his smile. Lyra Lovegood thanking him? He must be high.

"What was that? I can't hear you over the rain.." He teases, stepping closer and not flinching at the glare she shoots him.

"You heard me." Lyra grumbles. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He smiles wider.

"Are you smiling?" Lyra narrows her eyes. "Because of me?"

He drops it, letting his hardened features return. "You better get your eyes checked, Lovegood. You're seeing things."

She laughs.

She laughs!

It is a silly sound, not something he expected but his heart beats rapidly in response to as her eyes crinkle and her dimples show. It's short and melodic and Theodore is not even sure if he imagined it or not.

"Are you laughing because of me?"

"You better get your ears checked, Nott. You're hearing things." Lyra shakes her head.

"Right. I'm going to go." She takes a step closer to the open area after picking up her cloak. "We're still working on that essay, so be in the libary in." She checks her watch, wiping it's face free from water. "Thirty minutes."

"Yeah yeah."

Lyra looks at him over her shoulder."I still don't like you."

Theodore snorts, shaking his head, like a dog, to dry his hair. "And I still don't like you either, Smartass."

Lyra rolls her eyes. "Good."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

MOONY SPEAKS!

kicking and giggling because i love them. it was raining and i was listening to 'sweater weather' when writing this 🤭

thoughts on the chapter?

thank you for reading and please please vote!