Style // Sirius Black

Chapter XLV

There are some people in your life you really do not want to cross paths with more than once or twice. Whether it be you just don't get on well with one another or they are just an utterly wretched person–you don't want to have numerous encounters. You don't have to get along with everybody you meet, nor do you have to get along with anyone you meet at the end of the day. That is perfectly fine; no one's precluding you from that. But when that select person that just gets under your skin also happens to be one of the few people in your life that give you cold shivers or remind you what real fear feels like, well, that's a person you would want to forget.

The type of people that are made out of pure wickedness for the sake of it is the type of person you never want to encounter. They are out to make the world a more egregious place than it already is, and the best way to respond to that person is simply not. Do not engage nor give them the reaction they want from you.

Easier said than done when that person who crossed your path just so happens to be a notorious murderer working for the man that wants you dead.

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It was her second year when Lyra Potter made Bellatrix a fool in the middle of the Hogwarts hallways. The older witch had spat out some heinous words that struck Lyra the wrong way, seeing as they were aimed toward her brother and one of her best mates. If there is anything you don't say around Lyra, it's an insult to her brother or Remus Lupin. If you ever dare to say such things, prepare to handle a tempest rolling over the horizon with one sole intention–hurt. Most of her friends prefer to be the bigger person and let the comments roll off their backs like water, not Lyra, though.

Lyra Potter preferred to give back what the person handed her. She'd knock it right out of the park if they wanted to play hardball and dance around the field. It was her way of regaining control of a situation where it had been taken from her. After all, some people can dish it out and can't take it. So, Lyra likes to give them a bit of a taste.

However, Bellatrix Lestrange is one of the most lethal, cunning, vicious witches who have graced the Wizarding World with her barbarity. She was a blank panther stalking the trees, watching the innocent gazelles fill their bellies with grass, ignorant to the predator that hunted behind them. She waited for their moment of peak vulnerability before striking, claws ripping through flesh and blood painting her fur. It was a bloody scene, and she was as ruthless as they come. She had something to prove, someone to impress. Bellatrix Lestrange was a vulture within the Wizarding World.

But, a vulture was no apex predator. Especially not when next to a lion.

A playful grin danced along Lyra's features as she caught sight of the unruly hair of the eldest Black–now Lestrange–daughter. The last time the two went toe-to-toe, Bella's prestige took a consequential hit, and Lyra gathered those shattered pieces to add to her collection. Everyone had witnessed a younger witch from the Potter family leave the formidable Bellatrix Black perplexed and confused about how she had been bested. It didn't come down to intelligence or combat skill–just strategy. Lyra used her naivete and litheness to duck around every formidable curse Bellatrix threw her way. However, now, Lyra had an arsenal, not just a tiny stature.

Sirius had already made it into the house–which meant Lyra could show off.

"How many times do I have to best you in a duel before you learn your place?" Lyra hollered from her hiding spot, straightening her posture and revealing herself.

"Potter!"

"In the flesh. Congratulations on your wedding, by the way–I'm sure it was dreadful. Now you have a last name to match your mental state." Lyra strode around the boulder, twisting her wand. One of the best ways to match the insane sister, treat her the same way she does you. She doesn't expect to have someone match her wit–which is where Lyra thrived.