firecracker ???

6-7

She'd miss breakfast. Or vanish after class. Or brush past him in the hallway with ink on her fingers and her hair tied up like she hadn't slept.

She always claimed it something related to Draco but never said what. She supposed it lessened the burden in her chest that she wasn't lying to him completely.

Harry watched. And waited.

And said nothing.

But it ate at him.

He told himself not to care. Not to jump to conclusions. She was Lyra—distant, unreadable, always five steps ahead. Of course she wouldn't tell him everything.

But still.

He noticed.

She never invited him to come.

She never explained where she'd been.

She always said Draco's name like it was rehearsed and ready to use as an excuse.

And then, one evening in the library, he broke.

She was seated near the back, surrounded by books in various languages, quill tapping idly against the edge of the desk. Her eyes were unreadable. As always.

Harry sat beside her, arms crossed. Silent.

She glanced over once. "Something on your mind?"

He didn't answer.

"Harry."

Still nothing.

Suddenly,

"Are you cheating on me?"

Lyra gaped.

The question hadn't been sharp. Or accusatory. It was quiet. His voice had been small. Merlin, he was pouting. Pouting.

Her posture didn't shift, but her fingers paused their rhythm.

"No."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. Very."

He swallowed.

"I just... I don't know. You're always gone. You never say where. You're say you're with Draco, but then I see him and you're not with him like you say. I try not to think about it, but I can't stop."

His voice cracked.

"I keep wondering if I'm not enough for you."

Her head turned sharply.

"What?"

"I'm scared I'm not enough," he repeated. "For you. You're... everything. Cold and brilliant and terrifying. People look at you like you're made of stars. They look at me like I'm a prophecy."

"Shut up. You're Harry Potter."

"Exactly," he said. "And you don't even flinch when someone says that."

She didn't speak.

He pushed on. "I know you love me. I think you love me. But I don't know if I'm what you want. What if it's someone else? What if it's him? Whoever the other guy is?"

Lyra stood suddenly.

The chair scraped loudly against the floor.

She rounded the table, stepped in front of him, and sat sideways on his lap, arms around his neck.

"I'm not cheating on you," she said clearly. "And you are enough. There is no other guy."

"I just—"

"You're the only person I let see me tired."

He blinked.

"You're the only one who gets to see me furious. Or soft. Or stupid."

"I—"

"And yes, you're loud. And dramatic. And always talking."

"You forgot annoying." He had a small smile on his face now.

"You're that too."

He looked up at her. "But?"

She exhaled, slow and sharp.

"But I love you."

The world stopped. She hadn't said it before. At least not like this.

"You do?"

"Obviously."

"Say it again."

"No."

"Please?"

She rolled her eyes. "I love you. Don't ask again."

He smiled like the sun had come out.

She leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his eye.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to drag you into it."

"Drag me into what?"

She hesitated.

Then, "Draco's task."

Harry tensed. "What task?"

"He was given one. By him. The Vanishing Cabinet. A plan. A test."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Yes."

"And you're helping him?"

"Yes. No. Not really."

His jaw clenched. "I was never going to find out?"

"I didn't want you to worry."

He laughed, short and tired. "Lyra baby, I've been worried for months."

She touched his cheek. "I'm sorry."

He leaned into her hand.

"It's the Diadem," she said softly. "We think it's a Horcrux. That's what I've been looking for."

Harry blinked. "Another one?"

"Hidden in the Room. That's why I'm always there. For it. Not anyone. Maybe only Draco, I say I help him so he wouldn't suspect I'm looking for it."

He didn't speak.

But he understood.

He nodded once, slowly.

He stood, placing her on her feet, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her like the world was going to break.

"You're enough," she said. "More than enough. Too much, sometimes."

He smiled against her neck. "Good."

She let him hold her.

And for the first time in weeks, he didn't feel like something was slipping away.

He felt whole.

He felt hers.