Lyra had dearly missed the Order of the Phoenix, even if she was only missing from a single meeting. She was sure to come to the next one, though, telling everybody that Voldemort himself had found himself living in her house. 

While some had found themselves wanting to charge into Malfoy Manor and cut the man's head off already, there were some who had a bit more sense. Moody was definitely against the idea, thinking they didn't have a plan or any way to cover up their existence or how they knew about where he was staying if things didn't work out. They couldn't compromise one of their spies.

They had made sure not to mention this fact to Harry, who was already stressed enough with everything leading up to his hearing with the Ministry, which was getting closer and closer everyday. Lyra hoped that they wouldn't expel him, and if they did then she'd write him a glowing recommendation to go to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons. 

Once she had left her last meeting (where Sirius and Remus had been fuzzing over her because she had been so close to Voldemort, the Dark Lord or whatever people liked to call him), she found Harry standing outside the door.

"Hey, Lyra," he greeted, sounding a bit tired. It was getting quite late and Harry should have been in bed but he had been quite eager to catch her before she left. "I missed you at the last meeting."

"How did you know I wasn't there?" the blonde woman asked, eyeing him suspiciously. He quickly looked quite sheepish and avoided her gaze. She sighed, realizing what had been going on.  "Were you spying on the meetings again?"

"No," he quickly answered. It was a bit too quick and bit too unconvincing for her to believe him. He smiled innocently as she looked at him doubtfully. "Maybe. Definitely. There's a reason for it, though."

"If you're going to say you want information on the war, I will report you to Molly right now. She won't be very happy with you," Lyra threatened, though she wasn't sure if she actually would do it. The Weasley woman could scare them all. 

"Please don't," the messy-haired boy said quietly, having seen the woman yell at her children (and Sirius) a few too many times to want to get in trouble. "I've been looking for you, actually. Hoping to catch you alone."

"Me? What do you want with me?" she asked, frowning. While her and Harry had both already proven how they were quite fond of one another, they hadn't really spoken much alone. Perhaps that was why. 

"Eh, do you remember... right before the third task of the Tournament, you said we could talk one day. About my dad and everything. I was just hoping we could do it soon," he said awkwardly, as if he was afraid she'd say no, that she wouldn't talk about James with him.

"Of course we can," Lyra said sweetly, smiling fondly at the idea of finally having that conversation. She could have it basically whenever, having forced more freedom from her husband, but she was worried Harry wouldn't get enough sleep, like most teenagers. "But isn't it a bit late now?"

"I don't care, honestly. I got to sleep in this morning so I probably won't get to sleep at all for a few hours," Harry said, but was quite obviously trying to suppress a yawn. He winced as she realized she had caught it. "Please. I'll to sleep at six tomorrow night if it makes you feel better."

"Alright," the blonde woman smiled, though knowing it could be a bad idea. The days were usually filled, though, for both of them. If they were ever going to have the time to do this, it'd have to be during the night. "Come on, follow me."

Lyra knew that most of the house would have gone to sleep, with most of the kids already having slept for an hour or two. She made sure to find a private corner, a sofa that hadn't been sat on in years and plopped herself down, patting the seat next to her for him to sit. 

Harry hesitated, not checking if there was enough dust to leave a mark on his butt, but it seemed safe enough. He looked at her through his glasses, not sure how to start this conversation, one he had wanted to have for so long. 

"What do you want to know?" Lyra asked after a moments, realizing that he wasn't about to take any initative about the conversation. "There's so much I could tell you but... I don't really know where to start."

"I don't know," Harry said quietly, reaching up to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They had gotten crooked as he yawned a minute before Lyra came to speak with him. "I just... there's so much I want to know about him and my mum that I'll never get to know."

"I can help you know some of it at least," she said comfortingly, sensing his sadness. "I wasn't very close with your mum, but I know she was a very good person. Since your dad didn't marry me, I'm glad it was her. They were both so wonderful that they deserved one another."

"You didn't hate her?" the young teenage boy asked, frowning. He would have been less surprised if Lyra would talk about his mother like some kind of hag who had gotten married to the love of her life. "For taking him away?"

"She didn't take him away, Harry," she assured him, wondering if that's what he had thought for so long, ever since he found out about her and James. "I let him go because I was stupid and I thought it was the only way for everybody to stay safe. She helped him pick up the pieces of his heart. I'm glad she did."

"Well, that's good at least," Harry smiled slightly, happy that the memory of his mother was still intact. He didn't want to consider her some sort of homewrecker that had ruined the love story of James and Lyra. "What about my dad then? What happened between the two of you?"

The blonde raised her eyebrows, trying to think about how she could tell the story without him going to bed too late. He was a kid after all. "That's a very long story, Harry. You know how it ended, I suppose. How we ended up here."

"I do. Hard not to know, after everything you've said." Harry could remember quite well the way she had nearly broken down in the Shrieking Shack at the end of his third year, speaking of her torture and the decisions she had regretted. "How did it start then?"

"The Hogwarts Express, September 1st 1971," Lyra revealed, her lips pursed as to not smile too wide at going down memory lane. "Sirius and I were going to Hogwarts together, both as first years. That's when I met him and I instantly thought he was a cool guy, which he undeniably was."

The dark-haired boy frowned at this, not knowing that the two had liked each other so early on. He thought they'd hated one another. "Hagrid told me you didn't like each other for your first few years at Hogwarts."

"We really didn't," she agreed, grimacing slightly as she remember how much he had once loathed her (she mostly didn't care about his existence). "After Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor, I had to be angry with him for it. James, who loved Sirius so much from the start, was angry with me for it. I apologized before our second year, but James didn't forgive as easily as Sirius did."

Harry tried to imagine Sirius and Lyra, the best pair of cousins he had ever seen (better than him and Dudley anyway) fighting and couldn't imagine it at all, only having seen them happy together. "I never knew you and Sirius fought."

Lyra didn't seem sad at remembering their fights, as they were usually quite funny to look back on. "Oh, we've fought a lot throughout our youth, though most of it was over stupid stuff like who ate the last chocolate muffin. It was usually me, but don't tell him that. Keep that secret with you to the grave."

He chuckled to himself, those being different than the cousin-arguments he had grown up with. He supposed it was a good thing, though, that they had each other instead of hating each other, which was his experience. "I promise."

"Well, it was only when Sirius asked me to help the boys become Animagi that I actually started to get to know him outside of being competitors in Transfiguration and him hating my guts which annoyed me," she continued the story, knowing that was what he was really there for.

"And then you fell in love?" Harry asked hopefully, thinking it made sense. They'd have to work closely together and get to know how wonderful each other were. It was a classic recipe for romance. 

"God no," Lyra scoffed. "James and I didn't get together until the second half of our sixth year. This was during fourth year. He would always claim that he fell in love with me at a party in our fifth year but I think it was before that, not that I could ever get him to fess up."

A party in their fifth year. Those words stuck to Harry's mind, wanting to know what happened to cause his father to fall in love with the woman sitting next to him. "What happened to make him fall in love with you?"

"I'll tell you when you're older," she said after a few moments of hesitation. She didn't know how much he knew about what happened when two people liked each other at parties and she did not want to be the one to take that innocence away from him. 

Suddenly, he groaned loudly in disgust. "You shagged?"

"No!" Lyra exclaimed, looking horrified at the conclusion he had come to . She didn't even want him to know what shagging was. He was a child, Draco's age. She dearly hoped Draco didn't know what it meant. "Where did you learn that word?"

He looked at her blankly. "I'm almost fifteen, Lyra. Not five."

"James and I didn't shag," she then said, swallowing the lump in her throat at that awkward moment.  "We snogged because we were drunk, which fifteen-year-olds should not be. Don't get drunk this year, or any other year."

"No promises," Harry responded cheekily, a wide grin on his face that reminded her so much of his father's, though not as crooked. It made him look a little less like a troublemaker. Then again, she wasn't sure if he could be as much of a troublemaker as his father. 

"Then no more story," she said sternly. She may not have been his mother or someone who had great influence on how he was raised, but she would be damned if she helped encourage an impressionable teenager into drinking at school. It never ended well. 

He had to consider his options, because he liked keeping his promises. But he realized that the idea of tasting firewhiskey that year wasn't as important to him as getting to know who his father was. "Fine. I promise."

Lyra raised her chin proudly as she continued. "He would ask me out and say I was the love of his life. I liked him, of course. Didn't want to admit it to myself before our fifth year, around the time we finally got together. Well, neither of us wanted to ask the other out when we knew we both liked each other. So Remus did it for us."

"Lupin asked you out for my dad?" he asked incredulously, trying to suppress his laughter. He couldn't even imagine such a situation, especially since he believed his father had been very confident and Remus was less so. 

"Basically," she agreed, chuckling a bit at the memory. "And we were happy for a long time. I snuck out that summer, saying I was staying with a friend and spent the summer with James, Sirius and your grandparents, who I adored."

It was the first time Harry had ever heard anybody mention his grandparents. He hadn't really thought much about them ever having existed, his parents always on his mind. "I've never heard anything about them."

The blonde smiled sympathetically, once again reminded of how much he had lost for being so young. "Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, the kindest old couple I have ever met. They died a little bit before you were born, around a year or so. I'm sorry you never got to know them either, they would have loved you."

Some sadness seemed to cloud the happiness that had been in Harry's eyes. Just another pair of family members that he would never know, someone he could have lived with instead of the Dursleys. "They sound great."

"They really were," she agreed. "And they spoiled James senselessly, which made him into a bit of a arrogant git sometimes but he always meant well. Usually, at least. He just liked to have fun and live his life to the fullest."

He perked up once again at learning more about who James had been, what kind of person he was to be around. It helped imagine how his life would be if he had never died, if he had been there with him for the whole ride. "So he was fun to be around?"

"The funniest!" she grinned. "Him and Sirius were a dynamic duo, running around together and causing mischief. He once made my friend, Rabastan's, robes fly away whenever he came near them just so he could sit next to me in Potions."

"I'm glad to know you were happy together," he said sincerely. While there was a certain fondness and happiness behind her eyes as she spoke about him, he could also see the hidden sadness. "I wish it didn't have to end."

Her smile faded at this, the reminder that no matter how much she thought about him, it was over. He wouldn't ever come back. "So do I. But I was foolish and naive, having been convinced that giving up James and marrying Lucius was the only way to keep him and myself safe from the war. It was too late when I realized that nothing could protect someone from war."

"Do you miss him?" Harry asked, though quickly realizing that it was a stupid question. He didn't really care. For most of the time he had spent at Twelve Grimmauld Place, he had felt an explainable anger. It was fading now, talking to Lyra about his dad, and he wanted it to continue as long as possible. 

Part of her felt like crying, but she knew it wasn't the time. This was supposed to be a happy moment, remembering him and all the good parts of his life. "Every single day. I haven't stopped thinking about him for years. I love him."

Harry frowned at the way she worded it. "You mean you loved him?"

"No, I love him. I still do," she revealed, though she could see he was confused as to what she meant. "You don't stop loving someone just because they're gone. That's not how it works. Sometimes, I wish it was that easy."

"Why would you want want it to go away?" he asked, eager to get some of wisdom from a woman who had lived through loss, remembering what it was like to have someone and to lose them. Harry just remembered losing James, never having truly had him. 

"Because it still hurts that he's gone," Lyra sighed. The pain was always there and it was getting tiring to live with, but she knew it wouldn't ever go away. Not until the day she would die. "Every day, it almost feels like it hurts a little more."

"Then why are you still walking around here?" he asked, not wanting her to be in pain. She had always been kind to him and he wanted to repay the favor. "Talking about him and being around me? That's got to hurt even more."

"Because..." she trailed off, not sure how to make him understand. He hadn't ever loved the way she had, and he hadn't lost the same way she had. His situation was very different, but she would do her best to help him understand. "One day, Harry, you're going to fall in love, too."

"I'm not so sure about that," he said, looking down. He hadn't exactly had the best luck with girls over his last four years at Hogwarts. The only girl he'd ever really liked was Cho Chang and she dated Cedric Diggory, who was now dead. 

"Handsome boys like you always have girls swarming for their attention," she assured him sweetly. Most young people would think that love wouldn't come their way because it had taken a bit too long for their liking, but she knew that wasn't the case. If she had given up when she was his age, she neve would have lived through the great love she held for James. 

"Like my dad?" he teased, quickly cheering up. 

She looked at him blankly, trying not to show her amusement. "It's important that when you're in love, don't be afraid to love as deeply as you can. You're going to get hurt, it's inevitable. And it's going to hurt more than you thought possible. But it's worth it."

He really didn't understand. He had already lived through so much pain and he didn't think any of it had been worth it. He'd rather give all the pain back, even if it meant he wouldn't get some sort of epic love story. "How can it be worth the pain?"

"Because that feeling is what separates us from those who can't fully live," said Lyra wisely, knowing that love had changed her for the better. "If not for how I have loved, I'm not sure I would be so willing to fight not to lose all of you."

"Are you saying you care about me?" the messy-haired boy asked, trying to seem teasing. But it was quite clear to the both of them that he was looking for some sort of assurance that she was on his side and would support him. "Fighting for me?"

"Of course I do," she said, giving him the assurance that he needed. "I'll fight beside you, along with you, for you. Whatever you need. You don't deserve to get hurt and you've been hurt far too much already."

He looked at her, his eyes wide and innocent in a way they hadn't been in so long. He hesitated before asking his next question, but he asked it anyway. "Do you think... that in another world... you could have been my mother?"

His question surprised her, but she smiled slightly at him. He needed people in his life to assure him and be there for him as he had never had parents. And she could imagine it, being with James and the two of them having had Harry. "I'd like think so."

"I wish I lived in that world," he said quietly, though part of him regretted it. He felt like he was betraying his own mother, who had sacrificed her life for his. But she wasn't there, and Lyra was. That was all he could think about at that moment. 

Lyra didn't know if she did as well. That world would mean being with James forever, that they would have gotten their happily ever after. But sh also had Draco, her own son, who she loved more than anything. "Part of me does, too."

"Do you think things would be easier then?" Harry asked hesitantly, wanting to imagine a better life for himself. "Without having to be the Boy Who Lived and everybody wanting different things from me. I never know what to do."

There was a sympathetic look in her eye as she looked at him. "Everybody's going to want something from you, Harry. It's inevitable. But you're going to have to put your foot down and make the choices you believe are the best for you. 

"Sometimes, being selfish is the best way to save yourself," she advised him, hoping it was good advice. "Merlin knows I wish was more selfish when I was your age. Perhaps I wouldn't be as unhappy as I've been for the last seventeen years."

He didn't like knowing that she was unhappy, thinking the Malfoys had been a big cause of ruining her life. He wasn't very fond of Draco, either, thinking that if it wasn't for him she would have left that house ages ago. He wasn't very wrong either. "Thank you, Lyra. For everything."

"Anytime, Harry," she smiled softly, just happy to have brought some sort of happiness to him. She glanced at the large grandfather clock in the corner of the room, seeing that it had passed midnight. "Now, it's far past your bedtime. I'll see after the next meeting. Good luck on your hearing. It'll go fine, I'm sure of it."

He was reluctant to get up, wishing he could have spent the whole night just sitting there nad talking to her, but he knew that was impossible when she cared so much about him getting enough sleep. It was mother-thing, he supposed. "Good night, Lyra."

She watched quietly as he got up from the sofa, moving towards the room he had been sleeping in in Twelve Grimmauld Place. "Good night, Harry."

▹▹▹

A/N: Maybe I'm getting a little back in the zone? This chapter was mostly just because I really wanted this conversation between Lyra and Harry to happen, because things won't always be as smooth sailing as it is right now, that much I can spoil. 

Anyway, I ended up publishing the next book I'm going to be writing, even if I am still debating writing this one and that one at the same time instead of waiting until I'm finished with this, but we'll see.