Shades of Silver and Black

EXTRA 3

-------------------> SEVEN SECRETS THAT LYRA CASSIOPEIA BLACK WOULD CARRY WITH HER TO THE GRAVE:

Number Seven:

Using the majority shares she held at the Daily Prophet, Lyra had been politely asking (forcing and threatening) them to print scandalously true things regarding the competitors of Stella, the House of Black's opponents on the Wizengamot and to satisfy the personal grudges she held against a few students.

Number Six:

Once when she was seven, Lyra had overheard her father and Grandfather Arcturus debate about how a new Dark Lord was arising, one more powerful than Grindelwald and how although they completely supported this Dark Lord, participating in an inevitable war or becoming a follower might leave their family extinct. 

The absolute surety in her grandfather's voice had scared her- as if there would be no other option should they embark on their journey to follow the Dark Lord.

Lyra wanted to become a healer so if -Merlin forbid- one of them chooses to serve the Dark Lord like how Bella now wished to do so; then she could help them. She could be useful because if she couldn't divert them from the path, she could and would heal any bruises and wounds that they would get along the way.

Number Five:

When Lyra had been eight years old and her father, Orion, had allowed her to accompany him to the headquarters of Stella for business but hadn't let her inside a room filled with important documents; in a bout of accidental magic, Lyra had set all those papers of fire.

Her father's face had turned a lovely shade of purple when he came about that sight and not wanting to be the centre of her father's anger, Lyra had tossed the blame on one of the few half-bloods who worked, reasoning that the scented candles that the half-blood brought to work were the cause of the fire.

Orion had believed her because of course, he would believe his dear daughter and how cruel and petty was the half-blood to try and shift the blame of his mistake onto a little girl.

Number Four:

It was her who had originally -indirectly- got blood on Grandmother Malania's precious carpets.

Not her blood, thankfully. She had been playing with one of her favourite snakes, Moros, when he had unfortunately slithered on a stray pin that had wandered on the carpet; thus, scratching his scales and drawing blood.

When Grandmother Malania had questioned who was responsible for the stain, Lyra had pointed a finger at a random house-elf and Grandmother Malania had believed her because of course, she would believe her darling granddaughter over a house-elf. The next day, their family's wall of house-elf heads had a new addition.

Number Three:

Lyra had made friends with a gorgeous french girl in the summer of her fourth year during a vacation to the country. Her reputation would tarnish should anyone find out since the girl had been a muggle.

For the longest time -and even now- Lyra wanted to know how she was doing and had difficultly swallowed down the urge to write her a letter. She had only known Esmée for eight hours after having wandered away to a nearby lake and had initially been very stiff and rude but Esmée had been so polite and easy to talk to that Lyra had soon reflected her smiling expression.

It had been a relief to speak with somebody who didn't know her. To speak with somebody who didn't want to chat about her queen duties, the Wizengamot politics, the newest trends in the magic world or the ladies gossip. To speak with somebody who only wanted to know about her as a person and not as somebody's daughter or granddaughter.

Lyra had confessed to Esmée about how she had a crush on Lucius and the girl had encouraged her to go for it. If he wasn't going to make the first move, then she definitely should. And then, in the end, the two had parted to their separate worlds with a hug.

In her mind, Esmée was the only exception to the 'muggles are awful' truth. In her mind, Lyra considered Esme the first and only female friend she had who wasn't a close cousin.

Number Two:

When Lyra had been in her first year and on the very first day challenged the then queen, Elenor Bletchley to a duel for the throne, she had nearly lost. It had been so close and Elenor's experience had been showing and at the last second, just before she had been about to get disarmed, Lyra had panicked and cast the spell, "Obliviate".

Elenor had blinked, having no recollection of anything from when they entered the arena and Lyra had smugly informed her that that was because she took the first stunner to the head and had gotten knocked out before showing her wand -the one that Lyra had snatched during the few moments when Elenor had been in shock- as the proof of her victory.

Lyra had technically cheated to 'win' the duel but in her defence, she was cunning and ambitious. She had too many expectations to keep up and she would rather die than fail in them.

Number One:

Lyra hadn't wanted Sirius to be born.

When Walburga and Orion had softly announced to her the news of a sibling, Lyra had smiled and nodded but internally, she had been seething. It only got worse afterwards, when the new baby hogged all the attention of her parents and considering she had to hear about how oh-so "lovely" he was. 

Lyra wasn't the sole focus of her family anymore and she hated it. So, on one particularly dark evening, she had yelled in the solace of her bedroom on how she wished that Sirius either died or had never been born.

Coincidentally, that very evening, Walburga had been singing to both the children when Sirius' little, grabby hand was placed on Lyra's cheek. And suddenly, for some reason, he became the most precious gem in the world to her. 

All the sibling instincts that she hadn't even realised she had, became activated and she mentally swore to love the little person beside her forever and evermore.