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The Raven's Song	By : Quills Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 6265 -:- 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
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Life went on. Impossible though Lyra would have believed it to be in the dark and lonely months after Sirius’s death, the world kept on turning even in the midst of the war that had broken out in earnest over the summer. The Order saw two weddings, and Tonks and Lupin were even expecting their first child.
Yet even though life had to go on, the mood amongst the Order became increasingly despondent. There seemed to be nothing they could do. The Ministry and Hogwarts both belonged to Voldemort, and they were restricted to little more than underground subversion that risked their lives every time they left their home. Moody was dead and gone, and he was far from the only one they had lost since Dumbledore had been murdered in the astrology tower. All their hopes were tied up in Harry succeeding in the mysterious mission left to him by Dumbledore, and even he had disappeared without trace. For now, all they could do was wait – wait, and try to get the message out that the resistance to Voldemort’s effortless takeover of the country was far from dead.
Tonight it was Lyra’s turn to join Lee Jordan for Potterwatch. The underground radio show was the only safe way the Order had now to communicate with the rest of the wizarding community and urge them to hold onto their hope; and every time they broadcast, they were united in their hope that somewhere, somehow, Harry himself was listening.
As Lee fiddled with the dials and gave them the thumbs up, George Weasley began to speak into the microphone. “Good evening, listeners!” he said, his voice cheerful as always in spite of the fact that they were risking their lives just by making the transmission. For all they knew, Death Eaters could be coming for them as they spoke. “Dragon here with you tonight. As always, we wish we had better news to bring you, but before anything else it’s only right that we mark the passing of the latest victims of You-Know-Who. Over to you, River.”
Lee’s smile slipped away as he glanced down at a piece of parchment and took over the broadcast. “Two wizarding families were found dead in their homes in the past week; the Mayhews and the Polpotts. We mourn their loss, just as we mourn the loss of the unnamed yet no less important Muggles murdered by the Death Eaters at Briars’ Brock and Littlehampton. Every death is one too many, and each one only strengthens our resolve to bring down You-Know-Who and his army.”
Lyra listened in silence until George eventually turned to her and winked. “Tonight we have a new correspondent with us,” he announced. “Joining us tonight for Pals of Potter is an old friend of many of you who might be listening. Nigel, welcome to Potterwatch.”
Her eyes widened as he and Lee stifled a burst of laughter behind their hands. “Nigel?” she mouthed across the desk. “You’re calling me Nigel?”
His mouth twitching furiously as he fought back his laughter, George leaned in closer to his microphone. “Nigel is a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and like the rest of us is a staunch supporter of the man with the lightning scar. How are you, Nigel?”
To her amazement, Lyra found herself smiling as she shook her head in teasing reproach before finally speaking. “I’m well thanks, Dragon. Alive and fighting, at least.”
“Alive and fighting is what we’re all aiming for, Nigel – and that’s what we hope Harry is doing right now, wherever he is. Is there anything you’d say to him if he was here now?”
Her breath caught in her constricted throat, for without warning Sirius’s face burst into the forefront of her mind. She would never forget his face; she didn’t need the photographs she hadn’t taken from Grimmauld Place to see his dark hair that fell with such easy grace around his face, or the precise shade of his grey eyes that burned so brightly with lust and rage. Even the shape of his thin lips and cut of his jaw were always with her. Swept away on a tide of desperate longing and emotion, it took a moment for her to recompose herself and force her voice not to waver as she spoke.
“If Harry was here, I’d tell him to never give up hope,” Lyra said. “I don’t think things have ever seemed darker than they do right now, but as long as we all keep fighting it isn’t over. I know he must feel a lot of guilt over the way things have panned out these last couple of years -”
“The losses we’ve suffered?” George gently cut in.
Sirius, Moody, Dumbledore...and those three were just the tip of the iceberg. The Order had seen so much loss since its reformation, and she feared there was much more yet to come with Harry at the eye of the storm. Shivering despite the warming charm cast in the room, she nodded before remembering that those listening could not see her.
“Yes. Many of those who loved him are no longer here, but none of us blame Harry for their deaths,” she said firmly, willing her voice not to break as visions of the last time she saw her husband relentlessly played out in her head. “All of them willingly gave their lives for the cause we so fervently believe in, and we would do them a grave disservice if we were to give up just because hope seems hard to hold onto. For the sake of those we’ve lost and those who can’t defend themselves, it is our duty to fight until our last breath.”
“Well said, Nigel!” Lee clenched his fist tightly around his microphone. “Nigel’s absolutely right. All we can do is keep fighting, and that’s precisely what we here at Potterwatch are urging you to do. Stay safe, people, and stay strong. The password for the next broadcast is Seeker.”
And with that he tapped the transmitter and brought the broadcast to an end.
Seeking any kind of distraction from the pain of the memories that still haunted her, Lyra leaned back in her chair and fixed George with a penetrating stare even as the corners of her lips curled up in a smile. “Nigel, George?” she said incredulously. “Nigel?”
He grinned back at her. “Play on words, Lyra. Nigellus, you see?”
Phineas Nigellus was an ancestor of Sirius’s, his name a nod to the Latin version of their surname. It was a clever play, she could give him that, but it was far from the nickname she would have chosen for herself; but nonetheless, her smile widened as Lee packed away the transmitting equipment and glanced down at the thankfully silent Sneakoscope on the table.
“Thanks for coming,” he said. “I know this is a risk, transmitting like this, but I’m convinced it’s one worth taking. If we all stay hidden away, the hold You-Know-Who has on us is only going to grow stronger.”
“That’s something I’m coming to realise,” Lyra said. “If we all stay quiet, no one’s going to stop him. Even if all we can do is these little acts of rebellion, at least it’s something.”
“Exactly!” George nodded decisively as he helped her out of her seat then led the way out into the open, his eyes constantly darting from side to side. All was still and silent, though, and when Lee followed them outside the three of them took out their wands and prepared to Disapparate away. “You going straight back to the Tonks place, Lyra, or have you got time for a drink? Mum and Dad would love to see you.”
“I’d love to, but not tonight. Remus is away so I promised I’d come straight back – I think Ted is a bit twitchy what with the way they’ve stepped up the hunt for any Muggleborns who haven’t registered.” Lyra grimaced as her thoughts turned to recent editions of the Daily Prophet, its furious demands for all Muggleborns to register with the Ministry making it patently clear that the newspaper was now nothing more than a mouthpiece for Voldemort. “We think we’re safe with all the enchantments the Order provided, but you can’t take anything for granted these days.”
“Fair enough. Next time, though, I won’t take no for an answer. It’s far too quiet at ours these days, and even if you don’t dare bring Leo you’d be more than welcome for an hour or so. No matter what else is happening, we can’t stop living.”
George was right, and slowly but surely Lyra was coming to see the truth of that. In the first days and weeks without Sirius at her side, even breathing seemed too difficult a task to manage, but the world had kept on turning. She owed it to the man she loved to move on with it. Maybe someday soon, the memories of him and all they had shared would bring her joy once more.
With a ghost of a smile as a memory flashed into her mind of a carefree night in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, seated in Sirius’s lap with George and his twin demonstrating their latest invention purely for the Order’s amusement, she hugged both men and bade them goodbye before stepping out of the bounds of the protective spells and instantly Disapparating to the boundaries of the house she now called home.
A faint shimmer betrayed the extent of the sphere of spells woven around the house, and with her wand outstretched Lyra drew a deep breath and walked straight through them with an ease none but those in the Order could achieve.
Though she was still smiling as she walked back through the door and made her way into the parlour, her smile faded the instant she caught sight of Andromeda and Ted, facing each other down from opposite sides of the room.
“Is everything okay?” she asked slowly as Tonks pushed into the room in her wake, moving as fast as her now swollen stomach would allow.
The witch and wizard didn’t even look over at them. They saw nothing but each other, and to Lyra’s dismay she saw a tiny tear leak down Ted’s lined face as his shoulders slumped. “You know it makes sense, Dromeda. I have to go. You lot are fine; they’re not looking for you, are they? You’re not Mudbloods, not like me.”
Andromeda’s fist clenched around her wand. “Don’t say that word!” she said furiously, and Lyra’s breath caught in her throat. Fierce and angry, Andromeda had never looked more like her cousin, and the painful reminder was too much to bear. Her head in her hands as Sirius’s face filled her mind, Lyra leaned against the wall, and it wasn’t until she felt the air ripple around her and heard Tonks’s cry of dismay that her head shot up again to see Ted’s back receding through the front door.
Ted was gone.
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The Raven's Song