𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖝𝖎𝖎𝖎

too close for comfort

Lyra had broken their agreement.

Whenever her and Regulus were left alone together, which was rather often, he'd be bombarded with a barrage of questions. How could he blame her? The information he had given her had barely satisfied her hunger to know more; it seemed as though there were other areas were he was unable to satisfy her, too.

Her looming thoughts and queries dissipated from her mind whenever Sirius seemed to be around. The odd pit in her stomach that his presence usually brought on had been replaced with a . . . want. The brunette couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it was like an itch irritating her body that she couldn't quite scratch.

Their journey to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was no exception. The pure-blood sat beside the younger Black boy on the carriage journey to King's Cross Station, with his elder brother across from them. Save for the prattle that popped up between the brothers occasionally, the ride was rather quiet, which would've given her time to think.

Except she couldn't.

As usual, Sirius' eyes bored into her whenever Regulus' head was bent down over his book. He had found it in the library at home a few days before the summer holidays ended, and hadn't put it down since. She would've asked, but she was frankly sick of having her questions unanswered. So, instead, she settled for the silent staring contest with Sirius.

It was as if his eyes were daring her to look away. Yet, she didn't. Her brown irises stared back at his stormy ones defiantly, challenging his new-found interest and undecipherable intentions. As the horse's hooves slowed down, and the carriage came to a halt, a cocky smirk curled on to his lips and he sent her a nod, before disappearing out of the vehicle.

As much as it pained her to admit, he had been her only entertainment throughout the morning. Her and Regulus had been left to navigate their own way to the hidden platform, and so she stayed uncharacteristically quiet as they walked, trunks in hand. If he had noticed her silence, he sure didn't let on.

Within ten minutes they were seated in the Slytherin sector of the train, tucked away in the compartment and reunited with their friends. Barty and Evan offered Lyra a polite greeting, before dragging Regulus away and disappearing from the rest of the group, that damned book still tightly held in his grip.

''How was Ireland?'' The Lestrange girl asked Alecto, who was sulking in a corner.

''Awful,'' she complained. ''My father is off his rocker for sending me there for the entire summer, but what can I do?''

''Have some self-respect, maybe?'' Amycus suggested, chuckling along with Avery, Wilkes, and Mulciber.

The red-haired girl pointedly ignored her brother, staring out the sullen window. ''I hope your summer was better than mine, Lyra.''

''It was . . . decent. I can't complain,'' the brunette shrugged.

But oh, she could. The broken record that was Sirius kept on replaying in her head, and a strange feeling told her that it wouldn't stop now just because they were back at school. He plagued her mind day and night, and she was rather unnerved about the whole thing.

Snape poked his nose out from the potions textbook he was pouring over, addressing the pure-bloods. ''Has anyone else seen the strange things the Daily Prophet has been reporting?''

That piqued Lyra's interest. She shook her head, as did Alecto. ''No. What's it about?''

''All sorts of unnatural events,'' Avery started, his thick accent only strengthening after the summer. ''Some of the horses began eating each other in the French pastures. It almost sent my mother into an early grave.''

Mulciber nodded his head, glancing out the window at the sunny weather. ''They're saying it's meant to snow any day now, but it's only September.''

''I saw a sparrow kill a falcon a few days ago, right outside Knockturn Alley,'' Wilkes added. ''It's like, the natural order of the world has been tampered with, or something.''

''Let's hope that doesn't give the Mudbloods any ideas,'' Amycus snickered. ''Wouldn't that be something.''

''It would, unless it already is,'' Alecto agreed. ''That blood-traitor McKinnon tart bumped into me on the way here, you know that?''

''Apparently she is dating Dorcas Meadowes,'' Avery gossiped. ''Evan told me. Talk about unnatural, right?''

''The sooner we get rid of people like those, the better,'' Mulciber hummed as the other boys jeered in agreement. ''Including that friend of yours, Severus.''

Snape burrowed his head back between the pages, sighing. ''She's not my friend.''

''Finally, you've seen sense!'' Wilkes exclaimed. ''That show you put on for us all at the Black Lake last year was impressive, let me tell you that.''

''Oh, you should've seen her face!'' Amycus grinned. ''At long last, the Mudblood was put in her place.''

''Are you feeling alright?'' Alecto asked Lyra, who had grown quiet. ''You look rather pale.''

''I'm fine,'' she insisted. ''If you'll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom.''

Lyra stood shakily, dusting off her skirt before stalking out of the door. A sudden wave of discomfort had washed over her, and all she could stomach was getting out of that compartment. Any other time, she would've gladly joined in with their conversations — perhaps they were all right, and the natural order really had been disturbed; an explanation as to why she felt this way.

Although, she didn't know exactly what she felt. Not in terms of Sirius, at least. She shouldn't have felt anything for him to begin with, that much was obvious, but she wasn't responsible for the images that popped into her head when she lay in bed, staring into nothingness.

The Lestrange girl made her way to the shelving that their trunks were stowed in, searching for her own for a couple of seconds before locating it and retrieving her robes. The green and silver tie was slung over her shoulders as she hurried to the bathroom, passing by Lily Evans.

The bathrooms on the Hogwarts Express were rather small. As the brunette entered, she assessed the interior: the wallpaper was a dusty emerald green, and the sink basin and toilet were both a rusty copper. There was a crackled mirror hung beside the door, in which she peered at herself as she changed.

In her haste, Lyra had forgotten to lock herself in. As she propped herself up against the sink, slipping on her one of her knee-high socks, the door slid open.

On the other side was none other than Sirius.

He stared at her, startled. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights; her mouth was moving but there was no sound coming out of it. Just as he regained his senses and went to shut the door, granting her the privacy and sparing her of shame, the train jerked forward.

He was thrust into the bathroom as she held onto the edge of the sink so as not to topple off. Sirius groaned, rounding on the door and fiddling with the handle. It wouldn't budge, and he hesitantly turned around to meet her wide eyes.

''What are you doing?'' Lyra hissed, practically pushing herself into the sink to put as much space between them as possible in the cramped room.

''I didn't know anyone was in here,'' he scoffed. ''Especially not you.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''Nothing at all.''

The tension that began to settle between them was heavy, and almost humid. His grey eyes trailed down to her tight, white polo shirt, grey skirt, the Slytherin tie hanging around her flushed neck, and the lace-trimmed socks that were wrapped around her thighs.

The fancy suits and pastel ensembles that Sirius had been subjected to wear during his stay at the Black Family Summer Estate where nowhere to be found. Instead, a black leather jacket hung around his broad shoulders, and he was dressed in items of Muggle clothing Lyra didn't even know the name of.

He had the nerve to stalk closer to her, practically caging her between the wall and his long arms. ''You seem uncomfortable,'' he smirked. ''Do I make you nervous, Lestrange?''

She plucked up the courage, scoffing just as he had done. ''In your dreams, Black.''

''You are. Every night.''

The brunette rolled her brown eyes, attempting to shuffle off of the sink and back onto her feet. However, she was instead met with his hips pushed between her spread legs. He fiddled with the top of her stockings, skimming over her skin, before his long fingers grazed over the pleated material of her short skirt.

It was as though his touch had lit her body on fire. He leaved a trail of goosebumps in his wake, and she silently cursed her own body for betraying her.

''If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me.''

''What if I am?'' Sirius whispered. ''Just say the word, and I'll back off.''

She couldn't bring herself to. He smiled smugly to himself at her astounded muteness, riling her up and getting under her skin. It was something he had come to revel.

''Now, how'd you think my brother would feel if he saw us right now? His sweet and innocent future wife, completely under the spell of his shameful older brother?''

''Under the spell? You must have me confused with all the other poor girls you've defiled with your immoral ways.''

''Oh, don't pretend as if you don't envy them. Do you think I'm blind, Lestrange? Do you think I haven't noticed the effect I have on you?''

''I could say the same to you, Black,'' Lyra fired back, propping herself closer to his face. ''It seems you've accumulated a rather serious staring problem in the past few months.''

''I never said the effect wasn't reciprocated.''

He matched her actions, bringing his face closer to hers. The temptation to kiss her freely haunted his dreams of her, but when he awoke, her lips were phantoms and her words were cruel.

As his plump lips barely brushed over soft pout, Lyra remembered who she was.

She was a pure-blood from a respectable family, engaged to the heir of the Noble House of Black. And here she was, acting like a commoner, enchanted by Sirius and his sick games. No amount of sweet nothings and electric touches could fill the void she yearned for, especially not from him — he was her future husband's brother, for Merlin's sake!

That was why she resisted the urge of every single fiber in her body and shoved him off of her. His back hit the wall harshly, yet his gaze continued to linger on her, filled with nothing but a primal lust.

If she thought she had discouraged him, Lyra was in for a nasty surprise.

As she went to struggle with the faulty door, his voice rang out again. It was thick with attraction, lower and deeper than she had heard before.

''Y'know, it'd be a privilege to be able to say you'd received the Sirius Black treatment.''

''Anything to do with you is no treatment, Black.''