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The Raven's Song	By : Quills Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 6266 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Lyra listlessly pushed her food around on the plate, unable to stomach any of what they had cooked. Three days had now passed since the drama at the Ministry, and the excess of sleep she had managed to catch up on had done nothing to bring her back to normal. She had done nothing all week but work and sleep, but she was utterly exhausted.

With a great effort, she lifted her heavy head and battled to pay attention to the table’s conversation. Sirius was seated at her left and he was listening to Alastor Moody as the cragged old Auror leaned across the table towards them.

“We’ll send a guard to bring him here tomorrow, Sirius. The arrangements are all in place; all we need do now is decide who will go to Privet Drive.”

“I’ll go,” Sirius said instantly. “He’s my godson, I want to go.”

Dumbledore had joined them for dinner; a rarity of late. Like Lyra, he was not eating, and with Sirius’s declaration he set down the cutlery he had been absently toying with. “Sirius...”

She tensed when she glanced sideways to see Sirius’s face darken ominously. Lyra feared she knew what was coming, and sure enough he leapt up and shoved his chair back from the table with enough force that it crashed to the stone floor, echoing loudly in the tense silence that had fallen. Her hand over her mouth, she looked up at him appealingly and a flash of guilty sorrow passed through his dark eyes before he jerked his head from side to side and looked across at the elderly headmaster. “What, Dumbledore?” he asked slowly, curt tension in every syllable he spoke. “Are you going to tell me that I, of all people, cannot go to him in his hour of need?”

“You know that I must.” Dumbledore’s words were low and softly-spoken, but they captivated everyone at the table nonetheless. “Sirius, my boy, it is for your own sake as much as Harry’s; you must realise that.”

Sirius’s face tautened. “I don’t care about my safety –“

“But Harry does.” Inexplicably, the professor glanced briefly at Lyra before turning his piercing gaze back to the now pacing wizard as Sirius ran his hands through his hair. “I cannot and will not permit it, Sirius. You will wait here for him.”

He swore loudly and slammed one balled fist into the wall then wrenched the door open to stride through it. It reverberated in its wooden frame as a loud crack signified that he had Apparated away. She hoped with all that she was that he had not left the safety of Grimmauld Place, but in the towering rage he was clearly in nothing could be certain.

As a cacophony of shouts erupted, a tide of bile rose up that Lyra could not restrain. She clutched at her stomach and slipped from the chair before mumbling an incoherent apology and breaking for the door in Sirius’s wake.

She could not go in pursuit of him, as much as she was desperate to do so. Instead, she hurtled towards the nearest bathroom and fell to her knees, her arms clutched around the blissfully cold porcelain of the toilet as she lost what little food she had managed to force down over the course of the day.

Again and again Lyra retched until, drained and exhausted, she had nothing left to give. Her vision swam as she stumbled back to her feet; but however terrible she felt, Sirius was no doubt feeling just as much in need of comfort as she was. Forcing aside the pressing concern of her sudden illness she left the bathroom to belatedly seek him out, but someone was standing outside waiting for her.

Lyra’s aching body tensed as her eyes met Molly Weasley’s. “Am I...am I needed back downstairs?” she asked slowly. “Sorry I dashed off, but –“

“Oh, you don’t need to apologise,” the older woman interrupted her. “No, Alastor’s just deciding on the Advance Guard and Remus has gone to look for Sirius. I thought you didn’t look well when you left, though, so I thought I’d come and see if you need anything.”

Fighting back the renewed churning of her stomach, she shrugged. “I don’t think so Molly, thanks. I might just head back downstairs and see if Remus has found Sirius yet...”

Lyra trailed off abruptly when a powerful wave of dizziness washed over her with enough force to steal her breath and all thoughts of going down the stairs. She doubled over as Molly cried out in concern.

“You’re as white as a sheet, Lyra! Come on, let’s get you sat down.” Though her words were gentle they invited no argument; Lyra could see how it was that she had successfully raised seven children. Helpless to protest, she meekly followed her into one of the empty bedrooms at the end of the hallway as she fought for breath and tried with all her might to steady herself.

“So, when are you going to tell Dumbledore?” Molly asked with a kind yet troubled smile.

Lyra frowned. “Tell him – what?”

The older woman’s smile disappeared as she pushed the door closed and lowered her voice. “About the baby, Lyra. I know you must be worried about telling him, but he needs to know.”

“What baby?”

Though she was at a loss to decipher the question, irrational and consuming terror was pounding through her veins as Molly laid a lined hand on her arm and guided her into a chair. “I thought you knew. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but it seemed very obvious to me. You’re pregnant, Lyra.”

“No!”

The instant and panicked denial flew from her lips before she even realised she was speaking, but to her horror Lyra realised that it was far from impossible. Indeed, now she swiftly went through the dates in her head, it even seemed likely that she truly was pregnant. Fools that they were, she and Sirius had taken no steps to prevent such a thing happening and they had been together for a month now; there was every chance that she had conceived. Caught up in everything happening around them she had not given her symptoms a second thought until now, but it all seemed to fit.

“I think that you must be, Lyra,” Molly said gently. “There’s a simple spell to test for it. Sit back and I’ll do it now.”

Numb with a fear that threatened to devour her, Lyra slumped into the chair and closed her eyes tightly, terrified of what she knew Molly’s murmured spell would reveal.

“There we are,” she said eventually as a blue glow enveloped the chair, pulsing faintly but insistently. “Congratulations, Lyra; you are pregnant.”

Her stomach lurched as she instinctively shook her head, the implications of her recklessness whirling relentlessly inside her head. “No! You...you must be doing the spell wrong!” she said wildly, desperate for any escape from all she knew she should not have allowed to happen.

“I’ve had seven children, Lyra. It’s not wrong.”

“But it must be! I can’t be pregnant, I just...I can’t.” With a loud sob that racked the whole of her exhausted body, Lyra drew her knees up to her chest and began to rock back and forth, unable to hear Molly’s words of comfort with her mind spinning and all the reasons why she could not have Sirius’s child rudely jostling for attention. They were in the midst of war; to knowingly bring a child into that situation would be even more foolish than conceiving it in the first place, for what life could any child have with the spectre of Voldemort hanging over them? Even were it not for that, she and Sirius had been together for so little time. She did not know where they were headed, and she had no idea if he would even want a child with anyone, let alone her.

Yet amongst all the reasons why this child should not be, Lyra found herself touching her stomach protectively and allowing the dream of a grey-eyed, laughing baby to consume her. She wanted this baby. Nothing was as important as that; but if Sirius did not agree, she would lose him.

That would destroy her.

Nauseous and painfully hot, she closed her eyes tightly to block out the world as she battled to bring herself under control. When her tears finally eased, Molly was leaning in close to offer a tissue and mute sympathy that she gladly accepted, for it further delayed the moment that she would have to face up to the terrible reality of all that was happening and the future of the child she was carrying.

“Can I ask you a question?” Molly said quietly.

Unable to speak past the lump of emotion constricting her throat, Lyra simply nodded.

“It’s Sirius’s, I take it?”

An irritated grunt broke the silence that had fallen with the question. “Tell me, what are you blaming me for now, Molly?”

Unnoticed by Lyra, Sirius had opened the door and was now leaning against the grimy frame, his grey eyes narrowed in evident suspicion. She choked back another loud sob and lifted her head to look up at him, painfully aware that her tumultuous emotions were written all over her face.

The moment their eyes met, the grim set of his face disappeared and he launched himself towards her. He knelt down in front of her chair to pull her into his lap, clearly caring nothing for Molly’s watchful presence or his earlier rage. “Lyra, what is it?!” he asked urgently. “Tell me!”

“Sirius, I...”

She trailed off to bury her face in his chest, terrified of how he would react to the news of a child they had not planned and surely could not celebrate, however much she knew that she wanted to.

Sirius gently prised her hands away and captured her face between his hands instead, making it impossible for her to look away. “Lyra, tell me. Whatever it is I’ll fix it...just tell me, sweetheart, please!”

Her heart constricted as she spoke the simple words that would damn them. “Sirius, I’m pregnant.”
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- 18
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The Raven's Song