The days following Dumbledore's warning were heavy with silence. Lyra had spent most of her time in the library, hunched over books on celestial mechanics, magical artifacts, and anything else she could find that might hint at the location of her father's research. But every time she turned a page, a gnawing sense of unease tugged at her gut. The more she learned, the more it seemed that her pursuit of the star chart wasn't just dangerous for her—it was threatening the safety of everyone around her.

And that, more than anything, terrified her.

It wasn't long before she found herself avoiding the Gryffindor common room, where the Marauders gathered in the evenings, laughing, playing games, and discussing their latest misadventures. Every time she thought of their faces—James's cocky grin, Sirius's mischievous eyes, Remus's steady calm, and even Peter's awkward smiles—she was reminded of just how much they meant to her.

But none of them knew the full truth. None of them knew just how deep this rabbit hole went. How far the darkness stretched. How the star chart wasn't just a map of the heavens, but a weapon that could alter everything.

The more she thought about it, the more it became clear. Her investigation had already brought danger into their lives. Dumbledore had warned her, but she hadn't listened. She'd brushed it off, convinced that she could handle it alone. But now, with every passing day, she realized that she was dragging them all into a war they didn't understand. They had no idea how high the stakes were—or the kind of enemies she was up against.

And it was her fault.

That night, after another fruitless search in the library, Lyra found herself standing in front of the portrait hole. Her mind was racing, heart pounding in her chest. She hadn't seen the Marauders all day. She'd barely spoken to them. But they would be waiting for her. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter—they would want to know what she'd found, what she was planning.

But she couldn't tell them. Not anymore. Not when it was so clear that her actions were endangering everything she cared about.

With a deep breath, she turned away from the portrait hole, walking briskly down the hall. She knew what she had to do.

As she passed the empty corridors, her thoughts were a whirlwind. She couldn't just disappear. That would raise questions, make everything worse. No, she would have to be careful. Gradual. Subtle.

The next morning, Lyra made sure to avoid the Marauders altogether. She ate breakfast at a different table in the Great Hall, her eyes scanning the crowd for signs of them. They weren't hard to spot—James was waving around a piece of toast, talking animatedly to Remus, who was trying to focus on a book despite James's antics. Sirius was leaning back in his chair, looking bored, while Peter was fiddling with his fork, clearly trying to stay out of the conversation.

They were so... normal. So safe. And that was exactly why she couldn't let them get involved.

She stayed in the library most of the day, only leaving when she was certain they would have finished their classes. But even then, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It was as if the walls were closing in on her, and every step she took toward her goal pushed her further into darkness. Her fingers tightened around her book, her eyes scanning the pages without really seeing them.

By the time evening rolled around, Lyra was exhausted, mentally and physically. She needed to talk to someone—to confess, to explain—but she couldn't bring herself to face them. To see the hurt in their eyes when they realized the truth.

She had to do this alone.

That night, as the common room began to fill with the sounds of laughter and chatter, Lyra slipped away unnoticed. She walked slowly through the halls, her footsteps echoing softly against the stone floors. She didn't know where she was going, only that she needed to get away. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe.

She ended up in the Astronomy Tower, the place where she had spent so many nights in the past few weeks, staring at the stars. The place where she had come to feel a sense of calm amidst the chaos. She needed the stillness. The silence.

For a moment, she allowed herself to breathe, looking out at the stars. The familiar constellations she had studied for so long. They had always been a comfort—until now. Now, they felt like a reminder of everything she stood to lose.

"Lyra?"

She turned quickly, her heart skipping a beat as Sirius stepped into the tower. His face was tense, his eyes searching her as if he had been looking for her all night.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice tight.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, his voice light, but there was a note of concern in his eyes that made her stomach twist. "We've been looking for you, you know. You've been avoiding us."

Lyra turned away from him, her gaze back on the stars, her breath catching in her throat. "I haven't been avoiding anyone."

Sirius stepped closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate. "Come on, Lyra. You can't lie to me. Not when I know you better than that." He paused, his voice softer now. "What's going on? You're not acting like yourself. And you've been... distant. You know we're here for you, right?"

Her heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. But that was exactly the problem. They cared too much. And the more she let them care, the more dangerous it would become. If they stayed with her, they would be caught in the same web of lies, betrayal, and darkness she was tangled in.

"I'm not..." she started, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat, trying to steady herself. "I'm not who you think I am, Sirius. And I can't drag you into this. You're better off without me."

Sirius looked at her with furrowed brows, confusion and concern mixing in his expression. "What do you mean? You don't have to face this alone. We can figure it out together."

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You don't understand. I'm bringing danger to you. To all of you. And I can't let that happen."

Sirius's eyes softened, but there was still a sense of disbelief in them. "Lyra, whatever it is, we can handle it. We're the Marauders, remember?"

She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "This isn't something you can handle. Please, just stay away from me. For your own sake."

Sirius stared at her, speechless. He wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn't come. He just stood there, frozen, watching as she walked away, the space between them widening with every step.

And as Lyra disappeared into the shadows of the tower, she felt the weight of her decision settle deep within her. She had to protect them. Even if it meant walking away