Black Hole

"I Truly Am Indeed, Alone Again, Naturally"

Lyra-Jade wasn't beautiful in the conventional way, that much was clear. Her cheeks were much too hollow, her face too angular to be considered soft or welcoming. Her eyes were much too wide and off-putting, with much too dark purple rings underneath them. Her eyebrows were much too thick to be ladylike. She was too short, too awkwardly lean and frail. She didn't have beautiful promiscuous curves or full breasts.

But she was beautiful, she truly was.

The gentleman of Hogwarts found her enchanting despite her flaws. Maybe it was her hierarchy. Maybe she was just seen as a fun challenge to conquer - Who can get into Lyra-Jade Black's pants and live to tell the tale?

But she paid no attention to those boys. Since her third year, her heart had belonged to Remus Lupin.

They had been friends since the first days of Hogwarts, but her love hadn't blossomed until three years later. Let's be honest, what eleven-year-old can feel real romantic love?

Lyra-Jade loved Remus Lupin. Not like she loved her friends, not friendship love. Love love.

In love love.

She loved the way he cradled her small face when he scanned her face for cuts and bruises. She loved when he would brush his knee up against hers while they studied. She loved when he would let her rest her head on top of his lap. She loved when he would hug her, longer and tighter than anyone else would. She loved when he would automatically perk up when she would visit him in the hospital wing after a full moon. She loved how he would take all her secrets to the grave. She loved when he would silently, and without being asked, pass her his notes when he knew she wasn't prepared for a certain test. She loved that he would always lend her good books after he was done reading them. She loved how excited he would get when she finished said books when he could finally talk to her about plots and favorite characters. She loved how he always smelled of chocolate and tea and didn't mind that she smelled like cigarettes and coffee. She loved how bright his cheeks shone red when she pulled him down by his tie to whisper something in his ear.

She loved him so much that it made her hate him. Hate him for making her so weak, so infatuated, so soft. He made her feel nothing like a Black should. Loving is weak. Her mother drilled that into her head at a young age. Caring is weak.

Many didn't think she had a heart. But, oh, did she.

She just didn't wear it on her sleeve where it could be mistaken for softness.

Softness was something her parents had never shown them growing up. They never cried on their Mothers' shoulder. Their Mother never patched up a scraped knee or stroked their identical black curls after a nightmare. They never sat on their Father's lap as he told then stories. Lyra-Jade had to hold herself, heal herself, calm herself, as well as her brothers. Even though Sirius was older (barely), she felt as though she was his older sister.

She was the one that both her brothers crawled into bed with on stormy nights. She was the one to whisper words of comfort to them when they were scared or hurt. She was the one to take the blame. She was the one to get hurt in their place.

All caring for her two brothers brought her was pain and stress. But if she didn't care for them, mother them, who would? So she stayed strong, stayed stern. For them. Everything was for them. Always.

She would play perfect daughter to protect them. She would be married off to someone she was probably fucking related to for them. She would let said person fuck her and carry his heirs year after shitty year. She would go along with her parents' ideals. If she didn't, if she loved who she loved, she would be disowned. Just like her cousin. Wiped off the family tree and never spoken to or about again. Who would care for her brothers then?