INSTEAD, james potter [1]

Chapter Fifty-Nine

"We can talk about whatever," the older blonde said, walking further into the room. She sat down on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to her. "You might now think I could ever understand, but I was eighteen once, too."

"Can I trust you?" Lyra asked hesitantly. She carefully sat down on the spot next to her sister. She had already hinted enough to make sure that she would need to tell Narcissa the truth. Now that the time had come, she wanted to run away and tell her it was nothing, after all.  

Narcissa frowned, reaching out to touch her hand comfortingly. She never wanted her little sister to feel sad, so all she wanted was for her to want to open up to her. "Of course. I promise you can."

"I- I've done something," Lyra stuttered, internally cursing herself for it. If she was going to say something, then "It's not bad. At least, I don't feel like it's bad. But... I don't think our family would accept it."

Narcissa's eyes went blank at her words. The situation and the words were strangely familiar, reminding her of a horrible day she never wanted to relive again. "Lyra, please don't say what I think you're about to say."

"No, no. I'm not in a relationship with a muggleborn. I'm not Andromeda, don't worry," the eighteen-year-old chuckled lowly, though without any humor, quickly understanding where her mind went. 

"Don't mention that name!" Narcissa hissed lowly, glancing around to make sure nobody was around to hear their conversation." And they're mudbloods, Lyra. You know this. And if that's not what you've done, what is it? If it isn't that bad, then I can be trusted with it."

"I'm not in love with a mugg-" Lyra was cut off by seeing her older sister's hard, stern expression. No matter how much it pained her, she swallowed the lump in her throat, not wanting to argue more. "I'm not in love with a mudblood. But it's someone you won't feel inclined to accept."

The older woman sighed, her expression softening again. "Lyra, our parents think I made the wrong choice with Hector, too. That he wasn't good enough for me, either. Whoever it is, as long as they're respectable and pure, then it will be fine."

While James was definitely a pureblood, he wasn't usually considered the respectable kind. At least not by the environment the Black sisters had grown up in. "The issue is that I don't think you'll find him acceptable."

"Lyra, tell me," Narcissa begged quietly. She could see how it was weighing her down, and she didn't want her sister to sit and be miserable for all her life. "It can't be as bad as you make it seem."

This was it. The moment Lyra had been dreading ever since the moment she had realized she returned his feelings. For a few seconds, she tried to speak but no words would escape, until she forced them out, pained. "It's James Potter."

It took a minute for the words to truly sink in for Narcissa. Once they finally did, her face fell, she shook her head rapidly and refused to meet Lyra's eye. "Lyra, no. Don't do this, take it back. Say you're lying."

"Cissy, don't overreact," the younger blonde said, attempting to force a smile. But she already regretted everything. "He's a pureblood from a wealthy and famous family, he treats me kindly and he loves me."

"He's a blood traitor! They're some of the worst blood traitors to have ever lived," spat Narcissa, abruptly standing up from her seat on the bed. "They're not even one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

Lyra had hoped that if anybody would understand or accept it, it would be Narcissa. But she hadn't been so lucky. "You said it would be fine. He's respectable, he's a pureblood. What did you expect from me?"

She shrugged helplessly. "A less prominent member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. An Abbot or a Fawley. Someone like Hector, still agreeable although not ideal. Not this piece of filth you have found yourself affiliated with."