firecracker ???

7-9

She laughed into his chest.

"I want a garden," he added. "You'd look unfairly hot in sundresses."

She hit him half-heartedly.

"I want kids," he said, quieter now. "A lot. Maybe three. Or five. As many as you'll let me have."

Lyra tilted her head up. "That's not a lot. That's a small army."

"I like armies."

She smiled. "Names?"

He thought for a moment.

"James," he said. "First one. Always. Lily for a girl. Then... I don't know. Something Black. I want one of them to carry your last name. I want them to be proud of it. Of you."

Lyra's breath caught.

"Harry..."

"You saved me," he said simply. "More than once. You kept me alive. You made me want to be."

Her eyes filled.

He cupped her cheek.

"I mean it," he said. "I'm not surviving this war because I'm a hero. I'm surviving it because I promised you I would."

She let out a shaky laugh—and then the tears came.

Silent, trembling.

Harry kissed her cheeks, kissed her tears away one by one. He held her close, as if the whole house would fall without her weight against his chest.

"I've got you," he murmured. "Always."

She fell asleep like that. Arms curled around him, heart steady against his ribs.

Harry watched the fire flicker and tucked the blanket tighter around her. His fingers traced the edge of her spine like prayer.

He didn't even hear the door open.

Not until the soft tread of footsteps crossed the carpet and stopped beside him.

Regulus.

"She's asleep," he said quietly.

Regulus nodded and sat on the edge of the sofa across from him.

They'd never really been alone before.

"She never sleeps like that," Regulus said softly. "Not unless she's safe."

Harry looked down at Lyra.

"She's exhausted," he said.

"She's home," Regulus corrected.

It was silent for a moment.

Then Regulus said, "She gave you the chain."

Harry nodded. "It's—she told me what it means."

"She gave you her hair," Regulus said. "Do you know what that means, in Black family tradition?"

Harry hesitated.

Regulus looked into the fire.

"It means she's bound herself to you. Magic that old doesn't fade. That necklace will protect you even when she's not near you. Even when she's gone."

Harry swallowed. "She's not going anywhere."

"No," Regulus said. "She isn't. Because you won't let her."

Another silence.

Regulus didn't look at Harry when he next spoke.

"We're almost at the end."

The words were low. Measured. Like he'd rehearsed them.

Harry didn't answer right away. He shifted, glanced down at Lyra—still asleep in his arms, cheek pressed against his chest, the protective chain she'd given him now warm with his body heat.

When he finally spoke, his voice was just as quiet.

"You're not saying that for me."

Regulus looked over, startled—but not surprised.

"You're scared," Harry said gently. "Not for yourself. For her."

Regulus's jaw tightened. His fingers tapped twice against the arm of the chair, then stilled.

"She nearly walked away," he said after a beat. "When I told her what I'd done. About the locket."

Harry's brows furrowed.

"She didn't know," Regulus said, voice low, heavy with memory. "No one did. Voldemort still believes I'm loyal. His most trusted. The perfect mask. But I destroyed the Horcrux. The first one, decades ago."

Harry stared.

"She always thought I was what I appeared to be. She trusted me—above everyone. And when I told her... she looked at me like I wasn't real."

Harry swallowed hard. "What happened?"

"Then Lucius told her everything," Regulus said. "He had to. I couldn't bring myself to hurt her even though it was the truth. After, she thought I'd lied to her her whole life. That everything we had was built on shadow."

He looked into the fire again.

"I almost lost her."

There was a pause.

Harry's voice was softer now. "But you didn't."

"She didn't speak to me for a week. But thankfully, no, I didn't." Regulus exhaled. "She stayed. She forgave me. But sometimes I still wonder... if she sees the lie or the man behind it."

"She sees both," Harry said firmly. "She always does. And she still chose you. She loves you."

Regulus didn't speak for a moment. Then he turned and met Harry's gaze fully.

"You understand what it means now, don't you? The necklace. What she's done for you above that. That girl gave you her entire world."

Harry nodded, jaw clenched with the force of feeling.

"I won't let her lose it," he said. "Not to me. Not to war. I made her a promise. I won't die."

"You sound very sure."

"I am."

Another beat.

"No one dies," Harry added quietly. "Not her. Not you. We're not losing anyone this time."

Regulus didn't speak.

But something shifted in his face—something tired, something vulnerable, something that cracked faintly under the weight of old guilt and new hope.

He looked at Lyra again.

"She's everything already," he said. "Yet she still chooses to hold the rest of us together."

"She saved me," Harry said. "In every way."

Regulus nodded once.

"We're going to make it," Harry said. "You and me. Because of her."

Regulus's voice dipped. "She carries the best of all of us. Sirius's fire. Narcissa's grace. Bellatrix's brilliance. And somehow, she still made space for herself."

Harry's chest ached.

"She's given me everything I could wish for," he said.

Regulus met his gaze.

"Then keep her safe."

"I will."

"I know."

They sat in silence after that.

Two men who loved the same girl in different ways.

The fire flickered, and outside, snow began to fall again—light, quiet.

It was Christmas.