Shades of Silver and Black

Chapter 83 | season's greeting, hope you're well

"Based on my experience, creating potions is difficult and younger brothers don't listen to their older siblings."

"With proper motivation, potions can be created with ease, and with enough blackmail material, your younger brothers can become your most loyal followers," Charlus advised with a wink.

Lyra's dimples were etched into her skin like little craters. "How were you not a Slytherin?"

"Because if I was, I wouldn't have been able to experience the forbidden romance trope with Dorea back at Hogwarts," Charlus mused as an answer.

Thunderous rattles of cackles and pitter-patter of feet snapped Charlus out of his nostalgia-tinged daze and alerted Lyra to the task she had set out to observe in the first place.

Bidding each other a temporary goodbye, they departed onto their separate ways.

By the time she had glided down the spiralling staircase, much to her dismay, the live entertainment had faded into a subdued act. Primly seated in the formal dining room, Regulus, James, Sirius and Aunt Dorea ate their breakfast in peace, waiting for neither Lyra nor Charlus.

Light flooded into the room courtesy of the floor-to-ceiling windows and the near-transparent curtains did little to hurdle them, creating incandescent glows of halos around the occupants. Colourful streamers dominated the ceiling with sporadic garlands of pinecones which Lyra, her brothers, Aunt Dorea and Uncle Charlus had strung by hand a few days prior. Obnoxiously large bows in a variety of shades decorated the pastel walls while unlit scented candles littered the dining table, in the centre of which was a basket filled with fruits.

The Potter Manor conflicted the Black estates in many manners, the most glaring of which was how the entire house was seemingly spun from the rays of the sun with light present in every nook and corner, a stark contrast to the heavy curtains, dark furniture and shadows which clung at the Black properties. And even at the bleak of winter, a welcoming warmth engulfed the house.

"Good morning," Lyra said again, seating herself in an empty seat opposite to her godmother, who cheerfully returned the greeting.

As a response, Lyra received a grunt from a half-asleep Regulus, a grumble of "What's good about this morning anyway," from James along with a sigh from Sirius, who winced every time he had to move his arm.

"So," Lyra started after piling up her plate with pancakes, "any plans for the day?"

"Sleeping," Dorea chirped first, adding in a low baritone, "I noticed the light in Charlus' study was there at even three in the morning. I doubt he got much sleep, he's terribly worried about the bill. I suppose I'll have to spend the day trying to force him to sleep and hibernate myself. I haven't gotten much sleep since this one was born," she explained, motioning with her head towards James, who would have grinned had his morning not begun with a scolding.

Lyra nodded understandingly. "I did hear that loads of animals hibernate all winter. Sleep well."

"Thank you." Dorea beamed, leaning forward and propping her elbows on the table. "I haven't blessed you with much god-motherly advice, have I? Well, here's one: don't have children until you're mentally prepared to sacrifice your sleep."

"That's the most wisdom I've ever heard. You are truly great beyond your years," Lyra praised with glittering eyes, making Dorea laugh. A surge of gratitude overcame Lyra as she gazed upon Dorea, thankful that as she had promised, her godmother had not brought up the events that had occurred on the day of her surprise party and had also informed James, Sirius and Regulus not to pester her about it until Lyra herself initiated a conversation regarding it.