Secrets protect people. They keep people safe against the vulnerabilities everyone in life actively seeks to avoid. They're a form of armour that doesn't require a physical aspect, no shield, no sword, just silence. Having secrets is a safeguard from pain and something that could welcome it. Everything in life is a double-edged sword, constantly having different ways of striking home. Nothing is ever simple or black and white. The same thing happens with secrets.
Keeping things from people you love and trust may be one of the most dangerous games someone can play–especially when it's something beyond vital, something that could alter the lives of both parties. You cannot decide what others can handle or how they react to a piece of information; that is solely up to them. It may hurt you, the things that need to be said, but the truth isn't something pretty.
Secrets are beautiful on the outside, wrapped in shining gold paper with a bow. No one knows what's inside, and what people don't know can't hurt them. But when that paper gets peeled back, when that ribbon is untied and falls loose, people react. There may be nothing but good intentions behind the neatly wrapped secret; empathy is usually one of the significant factors.
However, this does not constitute the fact that a secret is simply a lie with a nicer ring.
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Lyra and Sirius sat by the river the rest of the day. He had brought snacks for them, and they barely spoke. He sat behind her, legs wrapped around her and fingers tangling in her hair. He braided it three ways before they switched positions, and Lyra tried various hairstyles on him. The only noises emitted from the throats of the two were laughs from the different variations of braids they had managed.
At one point, Lyra had convinced her lover to wander into the river with her, stripping down to her undergarments. Sirius had been reluctant, not wanting to get his hair wet. Lyra nearly rolled her eyes right out of her head before calling him an overdramatic pretty boy. Eventually, she grew frustrated and pulled him in anyways, laughing something hearty and genuine as he gasped.
The sun had begun to dip below the tree line, and the sky had been lit on fire when the two wandered back towards the ivy-covered manor. She was wrapped up in his arms as they stepped into the cool home, deciding to change before joining the other three quickly. Lyra had slipped into Sirius's quidditch jumper and a pair of joggers, nearly giving the man a heart attack when she stepped out from her bathroom.
Sirius looked up from pulling his hair into a bun, staring at Lyra. His shoulders slumped backwards, and his head tilted similarly. The elastic between his teeth dropped to the floor as his sharp eyes raked over Lyra's body with a pained sigh escaping his lips. The blonde felt her cheeks heat up at the way he stared at her, as though she were going to be the death of him. No matter the length of time the two had been together or would be together, Lyra wasn't sure she'd ever be able to get over the way he stared at her. Sirius looked at the Potter as though she was the one thing in the world that kept him breathing.
"You..." he trailed off, picking up his elastic and tying his hair back finally before strolling towards the girl, resting his hands on her waist, "Are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen."
Lyra's heart erupted, and her stomach filled with butterflies, leaving her tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. She hid her face in Sirius's chest, shaking her head as he wrapped his arms around her. She never felt safer or more seen than when the Black had his arms secured around her body. He treated her not like porcelain or a doll he could break, but a woman. In his eyes, she was not a risk, not a pawn in Voldemort's game. Lyra Potter was simply his étoile, his star, his darling, his princess, his everything.
"Look at me," he whispered, lifting Lyra's chin with his pointer finger to look him in his piercing eyes, "I love you, mon étoile, more than words can tell. You are the air I need to breathe. The water I need to live. I could go months without sustenance, living solely of the memories and experiences we have had together."
"Sirius," Lyra whined in a docile tone, an aching smile tugging at her lips, "C'mon...."
"In a cold world, you are the one source of warmth that keeps me alive."
"You're so cheesy."
"I've been told."
Lyra let out a bark of a laugh and tugged herself from the grasp of the man, only to have him scoop her up in his arms. He carried her like a bride, earning a giggle mixed with a squeal as he carefully pulled open her bedroom door. Lyra rested her cheek on Sirius's shoulder, staring up at him with wide eyes. He had once described her eyes like a forest he could get lost in without a map, and she wondered if he still felt that way. Or perhaps there was another way he saw her, something less vague.
"Oh!" Lyra exclaimed, tapping Sirius's chest, "I forgot something in my room. You go down to the parlour; I'll be there in a minute."
Sirius nodded and rested a careful kiss on the top of her head, setting the blonde back onto her feet. She let out another round of laughter as he left a light tap to her rear as she hurried back towards her room, dropping to her knees in front of the chest of drawers. Tugging her wand from the waistband of her pants, Lyra muttered the unlocking charm and pulled the drawer open. Inside it sat various things Lyra kept hidden for her personal use. Most of it was just small tchotchke things she'd collected over the years, mainly things from James and her's adventures around the manor grounds in the summers.
However, on top of it all sat the letter from Regulus.
Lyra had avoided opening it for months, feeling like it was somehow going against Sirius in a way. After all, she and Regulus had a history, whether official or not. Lyra had whispered intimate words with no meaning to the boy in the depths of the night, assuring him what they had was more than act. Not a day goes by where Lyra doesn't feel the ache in her chest from the pain she caused. If she could go back and retract everything she said, Lyra would come in a heartbeat.
Regulus Black didn't deserve the pain she caused him. But it also didn't constitute the boy slightly selling her up the river to the Dark Lord. However, everyone reacts in different ways. It's what is done after that depicts the character of said person.
Tugging the envelope out of her drawer, Lyra sat back against the foot post of her bed. He had given it to her on her birthday, nearly four months ago. Everything inside of Lyra screamed for her to open it almost every day, wanting to know what the boy had to say. Perhaps it was him releasing all of his anger on her. Maybe an apology for the things he had done. There were many variables within Lyra's mind, creating fear in her. She almost regretted it when she tore open the seal, wondering if she should have just stayed ignorant.
But when she tugged the parchment out, there was no regret found. Reading the contents of it aloud, Lyra felt a bandage fit upon her heart.
"I have to let you go now, don't I? 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.
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. 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. 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.
I fell in love with you the first time you punched Lucius in the face in second year. 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.
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. 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.
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. 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.
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. 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."
Inside the envelope sat the letter Sirius had written the day he had decided he wouldn't pursue Lyra in any shape or form. No words from Regulus Black sat in the envelope, just the confession Lyra had thrown back at her now lover. In a twisted and confusing way, Lyra felt more closure with the younger brother than she would have if they had a conversation. This was his way of letting her know things were okay now.
Regulus and Lyra could be friends once more.
Lyra made her way down the stairs with lighter footsteps than before, a new sense of relief taking its home on her shoulders. There were many things Lyra wasn't ready to talk about, but she never would be. But the letter that sat in her waistband once more reminded her of what she had to fight for, who she had to live for. Everyone she had to protect was relying on her, waiting for her to become the saviour she knew she could be. She started her sixth year with the desire to go down in record as a hero. She wanted the history books of the future, the ones her children would read, to have her story in them.
Being a hero required sacrifices. But the term hero isn't something Lyra always agreed with.
"Lyra," James remarked, standing to his feet as his sister rounded the corner, "Hi."
"You acting like I'm a basket case isn't helping," Lyra teased, walking over to her brother and nudging his shoulder, "I just needed some time."
"Right, sorry."
Lyra grinned at her brother's awkward nature before taking a seat between Lily and Sirius, facing Regulus. The air in the parlour was tense, everyone around her awaiting the bombs Lyra was about to drop. She knew that things could change entirely once she talked or even showed. She had considered projecting the secrets she had out to those around her. It may be easier than recounting everything, possibly missing or negating details.
"Get ready for my story," Lyra commented, "You might not like the style of it."
Hours later, Lyra had never felt such love in her life. James held her closer than he did the first time she broke her arm. He whispered kind words as though it were her funeral, reminding her of the love he had for her. Lily teared up, gripping Lyra's hand harder than she would if one of them were in labour. Regulus even sat back with a few tears in his eyes, staring at Lyra with a new image of the life she had lived in his mind.
Sirius didn't give a reaction until later that night when the two sat alone by the river once more.
"You told him you loved him?" Sirius whispered into the night.
Lyra wasn't sure if he was asking her or simply speaking. She knew he would have the most challenging time hearing and learning the stories his lover had hidden deep within her mind. She wasn't sure which parts he'd struggle with the most. Lyra knew deep down he wasn't angry, but the way he sat rigidly next to her wasn't exactly a common thing for her boyfriend to do.
"I didn't mean it."
"I know," Sirius muttered in return, "But you still said it."
"I know."
"Did you ever?"
"I don't think so," Lyra replied, a truth she herself wasn't entirely sure of, "I love him differently if that's what you mean. I've never loved him as I love you, though."
"I know."
"I'm sorry, Sirius."
Sirius turned to face Lyra with tears streaking down his cheeks. He had seen the true nature of his words in her mind. The things he had said had a more significant effect on Lyra than she thought he knew. They were horrible whisperings that would return to her at night, especially at her lowest. Perhaps seeing her and Regulus wasn't the most challenging part of the past few hours, but the pain Sirius had caused the girl he loved instead.
"I am too."