Betrayal is something that many fail to understand. Afterall, it was a broad term. Betrayal can be small such as not telling someone you had begun a new relationship, or it could be as grand as stabbing your friend in the back and selling them down the river for your own selfish gain. It was entirely depicted by those involved.
But it can also be something that develops over time and is seen as an act of self-defence by those committing the act. Anything can be coined self-preservation, especially within the walls of a war-torn magical world that was on the brink of collapse. Everyone was worried about their own wellbeing, but those with the bravest souls were more focused on those of the weaker and the ones they love.
The betrayal of a friend cuts deeper than most, however. It's something that is usually unpredictable and comes out of left field. But it can be seen if the most intelligent pay attention to the small signs appearing around them. It can be things as subtle as the lack of conversation. Or it can be something as covert as completely cutting off any connection with the previous friend group or singular friend.
But when one has woven themselves so deep into a friend group with a poisonous mind, it's near impossible to hoe out the weed. Especially when they are a vital member that all care and love. But sometimes even the brave become cowards, and it takes those with a broken heart to pull the pin on the horrid bomb that was set to explode.
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Dodging Regulus Black was about as easy as keeping a dragon as a house pet. He was everywhere that she was, waiting and watching from the shadows. He could tell she was slipping from his hands, falling into the worn and calloused ones of his brother. Lyra knew that ignoring the problem wouldn't make it go away, especially when he had managed to intwine himself into her life the amount he had.
Sirius was even harder to hide from though. Especially since the two shared a living area within the Gryffindor house. After their shared moments at Potter Manor over the holidays, Lyra had wished upon every star that it was simply a fluke and that nothing would come of it. Afterall, she was too frightened of the consequences if she became truly interconnected with the boy. She had been successful at avoiding the long-haired Black son, never allowing herself a moment alone with him or even properly speaking with him. She had even halted the bickering, not wanting to risk anything slipping out in a moment of anger.
It seemed though; she wasn't the only one experiencing issues with the boy.
Scarlett was at every turn, lurking just behind the boy that Lyra had said she loved. Her eyes were constantly trailed on the blonde, watching, waiting, wondering. Outside of both however, sat the man with ice blue eyes. Pierre had managed to once again gain good standing with the Marauders, earning each of their trusts and baiting Lyra to step in and tell them where it was she truly spent her Christmas break. It seemed a variety of people were following Lyra with a wry sense of curiosity.
Peter had found himself distancing himself from Lyra and it didn't go unnoticed by the blonde. She wondered if perhaps he knew something that she didn't, perhaps he even knew about what had transpired over the winter holiday. What that was exactly, she couldn't say. He may know about the new turn that her and Sirius's relationship had taken, or that she had found herself at the side of Voldemort acting as though that was where she belonged.
The first Monday of February following the start of the Second Term at Hogwarts, Lyra found herself staring at Peter with a confused and frustrated mind. He had a similar stature to that of one of the masked Death Eaters she had seen at the Black household and her worst nightmares seemed to be all adding together. Peter had been distant from the group ever since Christmas break, slowly isolating himself. Lyra had caught him whispering to himself in the corner of the library on countless nights, causing her to worry.
"Peter?" Lyra called from her seat at the table, watching as the dishevelled blonde found himself curled into a worn-out leather seat, "Wormtail?"
Not a single sentence was uttered in response to the calls of the girl. The younger Potter twin pushed to her feet and circled the table she was at, hesitantly beginning her journey towards the shaken boy. But it was quickly cut short by a third blonde joining the party, her height causing Lyra to stumble back a few paces. The Gryffindor raised her eyes to meet those of Scarlett, who had a tight-lipped smile on her lips.
"Lyra, I was hoping I'd see you."
Raising an eyebrow, the Potter crossed her arms over her jumper-clad chest, "What can I help you with, Scarlett?"
"This," the Ravenclaw hissed as she backed Lyra back towards the table she was just at before slamming a crumpled-up piece of paper onto it, "This is what you can help me with."
Lyra stared down at the note that landed on the dark oak, her heart picking up at the sight of it. The bits of handwriting she could see was that of one Sirius Black, no doubt exposing the corner they had managed to turn over a month ago. The youngest twin swallowed thickly, attempting to digest what it was that was soon to unfold within her life. Her hands slid out from in under her arm and the one closest to it quickly snatched the parchment from the table, tucking it into her trouser pocket.
"I don't think this is an appropriate conversation to have in public," Lyra whispered, a heavy lump finding its home in the centre of her throat, "Now, if you will excuse me. My friend appears to be in distress."
"He's fine," Scarlett hissed as she stared down her nose at Lyra, "Read the letter, Potter."
Lyra didn't have the patience.
"I said I'll read it later," Lyra insisted, clouded eyes staring right back at the taller woman, "Now, move, or this will become ugly."
"I know where you were during the holidays," Scarlett retorted, causing Lyra's entire body to go rigid and cold, "I know what you did."
Without another word, the Ravenclaw turned on her heels and pushed through a growing crowd around the two. It seemed neither were as quiet as they had thought, and many younger years had found the entire exchange entertaining. When Lyra lifted her head, her eyes caught the cerulean of her brothers, who seemed almost apologetic at the scene that had just unfolded. The younger of the two swallowed once more, ignoring the heat that flared across her cheeks and her ears as she packed up her things and shot from the library like a bullet.
-----
Lyra sat on her bed with the curtains drawn around her, hiding herself from the secrets and whispers that whirled around her. A moment of silence is all she asked for, but not even her mind allowed that as she stared at the tear-stained parchment she had spread out on the top of her comforter, beckoning her in. Her eyes struggled registering the words he had uttered, pouring whatever contents there were inside of his heart.
When the door opened into the dorm, Lyra knew it wasn't any of her roommates. Not when the entire room smelled of his cologne that once repulsed the blonde but now invited her in, tugging open the steel bars of the cage she was in. She ran her fingers under her eyes, collecting the tears that fell without her permission. His footsteps were light and could barely be heard, but the beating of his heart pounded inside of her ears as he tugged back the curtains.
"Hey."
Lyra lifted her head from the letter, meeting those deep-end-of-the-pool eyes that sucked her in anytime they met. His water would envelope her but allow her body to float instead of tugging her down towards the bottom, leaving her helpless and alone. Sirius had the eyes of a killer, waiting in the bushes to lunge. But when he saw Lyra, it seemed as though they changed into that of a lover. She had noticed it over the previous weeks, especially with Scarlett.
"Why are you still with her?"
"Let's not start that," Sirius hummed, taking a seat on the bed, reaching forward, and tugging down the shoulder of Lyra's jumper, exposing a deep bruise from the mouth of Regulus Black, "Because we know it won't get us anywhere."
Lyra rolled her eyes and grabbed the letter from the bed, her harsh eyes still connected to his like thorns attached to a rose bush. Sirius was a welcoming garden to others and Lyra was the harsh reality of the pain that hid inside of it, waiting to wrap around the guest. But when his eyes turned towards the parchment, he became guarded iron wall of a castle, only allowing access to those deemed worthy.
"I have to let you go now, don't I?" Lyra began, watching his face contort into something unreadable, "You're so happy with him and all I ever did was cause you pain and harm. I'll never be able to forgive myself for the words that I said to you or how I made you feel. I never understood the merit they held with you. I thought you hated me and that the things I said would roll off your back like nothing. Instead, they sliced through your shield and left you broken and wounded under my grip."
Her voice became quiet and shaky as she finished the first bout from the confession. She risked a glance from the paper to watch his blackhole eyes glaze off to give him a china doll look. He was a beautiful person and Lyra knew the countless people that would throw themselves into the fire to get even the slightest bit of attention from him. But she got it without any price to pay.
"The first time I saw you when we were sorted back in first year, I swore to myself I wouldn't let anyone hurt you," she continued, scoffing at the irony of the line, "I would do everything in my power to keep all harm away from you. Little did I know that I would be the one causing you the pain I swore to keep you from.
Perhaps it was my own ignorance to what it meant to love someone, but I doubt that. I think I was simply, and still am, an ignorant child who wanted to protect himself from the anguish of rejection," Lyra spoke, verbatim to the words that were stained onto the paper, "I never intended to hurt you as I did, but alas, the words I used cut deeper than any forbidden curse ever could, leaving you in a state of hatred towards me. Something you and I share."
"Stop, please," Sirius whispered, voice shaking as the tears fell from his eyes and slid down the porcelain of his cheeks. Instead, Lyra leaned forward and did the same motion she had moments before to herself. She collected each pearl, wiping them away on her comforter before turning back to the letter.
"I fell in love with you the first time you punched Lucius in the face in second year," she chuckled, her own voice cloudy with the effect of her own tears now sliding down her face, "It was only solidified when I watched you hex Bellatrix to the point where she was close to tears. You were so much younger than her too, so seeing my formidable cousin fall at the feet of a Potter was the best day of my life. As we grew up, the more I fell. I fell hard and I fell quickly, barely able to brace myself for the impact of the feelings.
"It's always been you, Lyra. All the other girls and boys don't compare to how you make me feel. The way you smile reminds me that there is still light in the world, something that for so long I was convinced didn't exist. I was raised in a hole of darkness and hatred, but you showed me what it was like to love someone to the point of insanity."
By now, Lyra was surprised her voice was still able to work. She had read the letter countless times before she was joined in the dorm by the eldest Black son. But reading it aloud was something completely new, something entirely more meaningful.
"When you walk in a room, I swear my breath is taken away every time. Whether you're fully dressed up or lounging around in your special pyjama jumper. It doesn't matter what you look like or what you're doing, every time I see you, I fall deeper in love," she whispered the final words in the passage, still wrapping her mind around his words, "Your eyes remind me of a forest so dense and thick that I could get lost in them even with a map. Nothing excites me more than seeing you smile and watching your nose scrunch or eyes crinkle."
Every obstacle in the world had found itself in the way of Lyra and Sirius. Mostly of their own making, seeing as for nearly seven years, the two had been at one another's throats. Lyra knew where she secretly stood, in a corner of a room with her eyes venomously attached to the various girls and boys that Sirius would flaunt himself to. She used to scoff at the way they would fall into his hands like frogs, waiting for his attention like starving puppies. She used to believe that her annoyance came from roots of hatred for the boy and his pompous attitude, but it took Lyra maturing and being forced to grow up in a matter of weeks.
"When I see you wearing Moony's jumper I feel a pang of jealousy, wishing it was mine you were wearing. I wish that it was you and I asleep on the couch, tangled in one another's arms, instead of watching you fall asleep on Remus's shoulder like it wasn't killing me on the inside," Lyra continued, glancing warily at the boy at his confessions of jealousy revolving around Remus. As far as Lyra knew, there would have been no real reason to be, she and Remus were just friends, "I want to be the one you're cheering for in the stands at Quidditch matches, my spare jersey keeping you warm from the intense cold as we kick Slytherins ass."
Lyra knew that Sirius had a bit of a temper, everyone in a five-mile radius of the boy on a daily knew that he had some pent-up anger. Of course, it stemmed from the childhood he lived, never having a proper outlet to express himself. But of all people to feel such blinding rage, Remus Lupin was the last person he should worry for. Lyra never saw the lycanthrope as anything more than a friend. Sure, there were times where she wondered what he would be like as a lover, but nothing ever went past her imagination.
"I know it's too late for me to tell you all of this, and I know I'll never get you back. I think this was another selfish attempt of mine to justify the things I put you through. Perhaps a part of me wonders that in ten years you'll find this, and we'll be able to restart what I wrecked," Lyra chuckled, realizing he had never had the intention of her finding this, "This isn't a confession letter or a love letter, it's one to say goodbye. Goodbye to the pain and heartache you suffered because of me and a goodbye to the love I felt. I have to let you go and allow you to fly free like the owls we send home."
"I love you, Lyra Euphemia Potter. I always will."
Lyra lifted her head as he spoke the final lines on the parchment, not allowing her to utter the words that condensed the entire letter into them. Both had tears running down their faces with snot bubbling up in their noses. Lyra had never done well with crying around others, it made her feel too open and vulnerable. It seemed Sirius had no problem making her let herself feel around him, exposing those weaknesses she had worked so hard to keep from public eye.
She wasn't sure who it was that made the first move between the two. All she knew next was the heat of his lips pressing to hers and those ring-clad hands tangling deep within her long blonde hair. Praises were exchanged between the two of pure love and adoration as one piece of clothing after the other fell to the floor, exposing both to one another. When both were left in nothing but their undergarments, they halted their feverish movements.
"Such a pretty girl."
Such a good girl.
Regulus's words echoed in Lyra's mind as she stared up at Sirius, who didn't look at her with the ferocity of a hungry wolf like his brother. Instead of finding their home on her neck, the long-haired Gryffindor caressed the blonde's "cheek with his knuckles after he removed each ring, claiming he wouldn't want to mark such a beautiful work of art.
"Are you sure?" He whispered, bending down so that his nose bumped gently across hers, "We go at your pace, not mine."
Lyra gingerly placed both of her hands on the sides of Sirius's face, pressing the softest kiss of her life onto his puckered lips. He let out a relaxed moan, letting his body rest on top of hers as they shared a moment of pure intimacy. There was no feverish or rushed touching, neither in a hurry to get the act over with. She would lay tangled in the sheets forever with him if she could.
"I'm sure."
Sirius reluctantly pulled himself away from her lips, situating himself on her thigh, long tresses tickling her skin. She let out a light-hearted giggle as he tugged down her underwear, exposing her core to the heavy air in the room. Sirius was slow in his movements, keeping his eyes glued to hers as he pressed mocking kisses to her. Lyra felt her heartbeat at a rapid pace, nearly jumping out of her throat when his tongue finally split her folds.
Sirius feasted upon Lyra like a starved men eating the most delectable dessert that the finest chefs in the world could offer. It was a stark contrast from Regulus, who tried to claim her with each kiss and lick. Sirius didn't have to make his mark, he already had deep within her chest where her heartbeat with the rhythm of her breath.
When he had his fill after Lyra released herself onto his lips that had uttered such careful words to her just moments before, Sirius unsheathed himself. Instinctively, Lyra went to turn onto her front, only to have him catch her by the waist and return her onto her back. The blonde found herself confused; she had only ever faced the other way with that dreadful mark in her few as Regulus claimed her from behind.
"No," Sirius shook his head, "I want to see you."
Sirius claimed her in a different way when he slid deep within her walls. It wasn't something that was new, nor necessary. His moans etched themselves into Lyra's memory, reminding her that this was where she truly wanted to be.
Her entire being rested in the hands of her sworn enemy, as though she were a simple player in the game of roulette, watching someone else point the arrow into the sky.
He made her his that night. Her hips, her waist, her lips, her heart. It didn't matter where it was on her body or whether it was her mind. Sirius Black had managed to make Lyra love herself with a few simple words and a confession he claimed not to be one of love. But she knew that whatever came next would be a whirlwind of confusion, even if it was blissful and a sweet pill to swallow. The style in which the two shared their love was something that she was positive would cause her problems.
But with his lips on hers and body rocking gently, she didn't care. Lyra Potter would rather live in the moments she managed to sneak into her day with him than continue avoiding the yearning that roared inside of her like a fire.
The onlookers of the two knew there was a shift as well, even if they were far from being witnesses to the game of roulette. Little did all involved know though, everyone was a participant in the style of the game they were playing. It took who it wanted, no matter what precautions may had been put in place.
Roulette was a game of chance, just like love.