Style // Sirius Black

Chapter XXVIII

"You," his voice echoed, large hand grabbing the back of a familiar boy's shirt and tugging him into an empty classroom. A considerable amount of strength surged through her as she flung the boy forward, knocking him into the desks with a sickening thud, "What do you want with her, Pierre. Hm? What is it?"

"I thought we agreed you wouldn't be a problem," the french boy chuckled as he stood to his feet, rubbing the back of his head, "She doesn't want anything to do with you, don't you get it? Or are you really that thick?"

"I don't give a damn if she wants nothing to do with me," he surged forward, grasping the collar of Pierre and slamming him against the wall, "I don't care if she considers me a dead man. I'll do whatever I can to keep her safe. Now answer the question, what do you want with her?"

"Other than a quick shag? Nothing," Pierre hissed, earning a harsh slam against the wall, "I'm doing my duties, Sirius. Just like your brother. He and I aren't too different. Does this make us family?"

"I'll tell her everything," he threatened, red-hot anger surging through her to the point where she almost saw crimson flood her eyesight. Pierre was dropped to his feet as the voice echoed once more, "Everything that you are."

"If you ever want Lyra to see graduation, you'll keep your dirty blood-traitor mouth shut, Black. Or I'll have no issue handing her over to the Dark Lord himself and letting him have his way with her. Understood?"

-----

Lyra was quick to duck from the room she had found herself in the night before, a new sense of understanding and realization dawning on her. Heavy sweat coated her pale skin as Lyra tore down the hall away from the boy's dorm, breathing accelerated. He had tried to tell her. Sirius had tried to tell Lyra that there was a reason behind his brutal rejection and explain that Pierre was behind his actions. The french transfer had blackmailed Sirius.

Lyra appeared feral as she rushed down the spiralling staircase from the dormitories, like a cat who had just been woken up. Her mind felt as though it had suffered a million electric shocks, and nothing properly commuted through it as she wandered from the common room. The sweat on her brow created a halo-like effect on the blonde; her presence was far from angelic.

A demon inside of Lyra had been released from the guarded cage she kept it in. The rapid anger of it began to overwhelm her senses, the surroundings of Hogwarts blurring into something far away and unreachable. Words sang through her head, and the monster swallowed them whole, digesting them to become a part of the girl's presence and her being. Everything that had gone awry over the year hadn't been at the hands of Sirius Black but stemmed from the vicious mind of Pierre Montagne, someone who she had trusted for a brief period.

"If you ever want Lyra to see graduation, you'll keep your dirty blood-traitor mouth shut, Black. Or I'll have no issue handing her over to the Dark Lord himself and letting him have his way with her. Understood?"

Her feet weren't hers; a flight response was triggered as everything inside Lyra became dialled to eleven. Her body moved through the motions without fully processing where she was headed or what she was about to do. Lyra Potter had lost control of her mind, letting it finally run free without a leash holding back the overwhelming urge to gain power and standing. If she could take Pierre down on her own, show him who he was messing with, there was no stopping the girl from bringing Voldemort to his knees herself.

"Lyra?" a voice called, echoey and distant. They weren't anywhere near the girl, far from her reach. Yet her steps faltered, and vision became clear once more as it reigned the beast within her, tugging her back to somewhat consciousness.