firecracker ???

The cobblestones of Diagon Alley shimmered under the morning light, polished too brightly by weather charms and Ministry overreach. Everything looked normal. Shops opened, witches bartered, and owls dipped between signs, but something about the air had changed. It was heavier. Thicker. The kind of tension people tried not to speak of, but felt anyway. Lyra held Draco's hand tighter than usual as they stepped out of the Gringotts fireplace. He noticed.

"Merlin, Lyra. It's not a battlefield," he muttered, brushing soot from his sleeve.

She didn't let go. 

He said no more.

Lucius had gone to meet a goblin about a vault reassessment. Narcissa had taken tea with another Pureblood lady discussing winter charity fundraisers. The twins had been left to complete their school shopping alone, though Regulus was supposed to have joined them two days ago. He hadn't. No owl, no message, no explanation. But no one had asked, either. Because no one ever asked when Regulus Black disappeared. His absences were always deliberate. They just weren't always explained.

They passed Madam Malkin's, then Eeylops. The bustle of Diagon Alley didn't slow, but it had a kind of forced rhythm to it, like everyone was pretending very hard that nothing had changed. Lyra's eyes swept over every wand hand, every cloaked shoulder, every glance that lingered longer than it should have. The whispers weren't loud. Not yet. But she felt them.

She pulled Draco toward Knockturn Alley. He didn't complain, just muttered, "Let's get the broom polish and leave." She didn't answer. She was listening.

"...escaped, just like that..."

"...broke the outer wards, they say. Like they weren't even there..."

"...mad, always was..."

"...Black family... shame, really..."

The last voice was sharp and low. Lyra kept walking. Her wand was close to her palm. Draco glanced sideways, quiet for once. Every few steps, he glanced behind them. She didn't ask what he was looking for. She already knew.

They passed a stack of moving posters against the bricks of the alley wall. One curled at the corners from the heat. A photo of Sirius Black stared out at her—sunken-eyed, snarling, gaunt. The frame was shaking slightly, as if the man inside it might burst through. Below the image in thick black ink: SIRIUS BLACK – ESCAPED – EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. And near the bottom, etched so faintly most wouldn't notice, the Black family crest. A detail only the right people would see. A mark that didn't burn away.

She stopped walking. The sunlight struck the ink just so, and she saw the sigil clearly. Twisting silver branches. Ancient Latin. Always pure.

Her eyes narrowed. She didn't speak. She stared for a heartbeat longer than she meant to.

Draco's voice was low behind her. "Lyra."

She blinked once and he pulled her away.

They emerged from Knockturn minutes later, tension trailing after them like smoke. The front of Quality Quidditch Supplies was packed, as always. The latest model of broom hovered in the window, spinning slowly. She barely glanced at it. She was watching the crowd.

And then she saw them.

The Weasleys. All of them. A trail of red hair and hand-me-downs, pushing a cart through the cobblestones. Ron was muttering to the twins. Ginny followed behind, nose deep in a book. And beside them, eyes scanning the shopfronts, was Harry Potter.

She didn't slow down.

As they passed, she tilted her head toward Ginny just enough to be heard.

"Still wearing robes five sizes too big, I see," she said, tone airy.

Ginny stopped walking. Ron spluttered.

And Harry looked up.

Lyra didn't plan to meet his eyes. But it happened anyway.

Their gazes locked. She felt it immediately—like something pulled taut between them, something wordless and electric. It wasn't the first time. Not anymore. But it hadn't happened in public. Not since the hospital wing.

She looked at him.

He stared at her like she'd knocked the air out of him.

She looked away first.

She didn't turn again.

She didn't need to see his expression to know it lingered. She could feel it.

Harry Potter was still looking.

And for the first time, she wasn't sure why she cared.