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Soon enough, the night emerged, and the girls were getting dressed up for the big and final night of their fifth year.
"I can't wear this, Daphne. It's too bloody short." Lyra shouted from the bathroom, clearly distressed.
"I don't care, it's the last day, who cares!" Daphne cooed from outside the door. She could hear Lyra sigh before the door knob creaked, and Lyra walked out with an unreadable expression.
Daphne watched in awe when she saw the dress she'd inherited from her mother. The dress was a velvet red, the fabric was soft and fit perfectily around her figure. It was mesmerizing, and the quality was undeniable.
"Merlin, Lyra," Daphne breathed, eyes wide. "Where on earth did your mother get a dress like this? It's beautiful. You are beautiful."
Lyra adjusted the hem of the dress, her fingers lingering on the fabric thoughtfully. "It's been in my family for ages. Apparently, it's enchanted to stay flawless." She slightly smiled, as she thought wearing it tonight felt like carrying a part of her family with her.
Daphne's own dress was equally stunning. A deep emerald green that shimmered in the light, hugging her frame beautifuly. They shared a laugh as Daphne fussed with her earrings, then reached over to tuck a silver flower behind Lyra's ear, placingit neatly into her smooth hair.
The silver accessory was beautiful. "There. Absolutely perfect," Daphne declared, smirking slightly.
Lyra grinned brightly. "You know, you might actually find a boyfriend tonight."
"Oh no, no one can handle; this." Daphne joked and mentioned to herself. Linking her arm with Lyra's, they headed to meet up with the others.
As they reached the common room, Theodore, Adrian, and Marcus turned to greet them, each one neatly dressed. They were extra excited, since Marcus and Adrian were graduating. The two boys seemed eager to make the most of it.
Adrian whistled low, a grin spreading across his face. "Who are you lovely ladies. New around here?."
Lyra rolled her eyes. "You lot don't look too bad either."
Marcus chuckled, nodding in approval. "Leave it to you two to make an entrance," he remarked, casting a proud glance at his classmates.
But Theodore's gaze lingered longer on Lyra than any of the others. He seemed mesmerized, his expression softened as he took her in. Daphne noticed, her eyes narrowing slightly, and she nudged Lyra with a knowing look.
"Did he not get enough sleep?" Daphne whispered into Lyra's ear, masking her own pang of jealousy with humor. "Theodore's usually too busy looking bored to notice anyone else."
Lyra shrugged, ignoring the brunette bloke. "Merlin knows.." she replied.
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With the brief exchange settling into a knowing look between the girls, they all headed toward the Hufflepuff common room. The corridors were bustling with students and excitement. Once they arrived, music and laughter poured from the room.
The Hufflepuff common room had been transformed for the occasion, with lights dancing off enchanted decorations. Students danced in elegant dresses and suits. Chatting, drinking and enjoying themselves.
Theodore kept close to Lyra, offering a rare, genuine smile. "You look good." he said, his voice low, almost tentative.
Lyra glanced up at him. "Thank you, Theo. You don't look too bad yourself." She said, barely looking at the boy.
Lyra immediately let herself be carried away in the crowed, dancing between her slytherin friends. She felt a rare, freeing joy bubble up within her, finally she was simply herself, without the burden of her family or the hidden weight of her secrets.
Daphne called out, laughing, "Look at you, girl! Who knew you could actually dance?"
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Daphne." Lyra shot back with a smirk, twirling around before coming face-to-face with Finn Collins.
The tall Hufflepuff gave her a confident grin, his breath the unmistakable scent of firewhiskey. "Lyra," he slurred a bit, leaning close, "I've been meaning to find you all night."
She rolled her eyes, "And here I thought we had settled this, Collins. I'm really not interested."
But Finn seemed determined, his eyes pleading. "Come on, it's a party. A party I helped host! Just one dance?"
"No," she replied, firm this time. She could sense something off, the way he leaned closer and grinned even wider, as if her rejection only encouraged him.
Across the room, Fred and George leaned against a wall, watching the scene unfold. Fred was wearing black suit pants, and a plain white button up shirt, which was unbuttoned on the top. He was leaning against the wall with a bottle in his hands.
Fred'seyes were dark and narrowed as he observed Collins, though he quickly averted his gaze.
He'd gotten into enough trouble over Lyra. She could handle this one. Still, the sight of Collins inching closer to her irked him, irritation tightening his grip on the bottle in his hand.
But things took a darker turn in an instant as Collins grew bolder with his drinking and ignoring her refusals He suddenly grabbed Lyra around the waist, pulling her forward. Before she could fully register what was happening, he threw her over his shoulder.
The crowd around them, mostly too drunk or hazy to care, laughed and cheered him on, and Collins staggered towards the exit, calling out, "Don't worry, she's coming to see the best of Hufflepuff!"
She franctically searched the room for her friends, but to her unfortunate discovery, they were all busy. But finally, she got eye contant with Daphne.
The laughter around them was loud, almost deafening. But from her view upside down over his shoulder, Lyra could see his face. He was wearing a twisted, hungry expression that sent a chill down her spine.
Her protests were drowned out by the ruckus, and panic started to build as he made his way out of the common room. She yelled out to Daphne, but the poor panicked girl quickly got lost among the students.
As Lyra accepted her defeat, and was halfway down the corridor. Her eyes meet his , and Fred immediately straightened up, his gaze darkening. He glanced at George, who shrugged as if to say, "Go on."
And that was all Fred needed.
He pushed through the crowd, and into the same corridor he saw Collins and Lyra inside.
"Hey, Collins!" Fred shouted, his voice immediately spreading relief through Lyra's body.
Collins stopped in his tracks and turned around to face him with an annoyed glare. "What, Weasley?" he sneered. "Decided to join the fun, have you?"
Fred's eyes were dark as he slowly made his way towards the pair. "You have no self-respect do you?," he questioned, a small smirk playing on his lips.
Finn Collings let out a laugh, his hand caressing the back of her thigh. "She came willingly," he shrugged. "If she wanted to leave, she would've walked off already."
Lyra shot Fred a desperate look over Collins shoulder, her face flushed and her eyes hard. "I already told him 'no,'" she muttered, barely audible.
"Oh, you hear that Collins. That is embarrassing." Fred pouted sarcastically, and in one swift movement, he grabbed Finn by the shoulder, forcing him to release Lyra, who stumbled as she found her footing, moving quickly out of reach.
"What's your problem, Weasley?" Collins snapped, shoving Fred back. "You honestly think that she would pick you over me?"
Fred didn't answer, but rather casually collided his fist with the Hufflepuff's chin in a brutal motion, sending him staggering back. Fred was on him in seconds, landing blow after blow, his anger boiling over.
Every hit was filled with the pent up frustration, the jealousy, the endless jabs and insults Lyra had thrown his way, and the need to see Collins put in his place.
It wasn't until the boy pleaded for mercy, he finally stopped. He was a mess. His shirt was torn, knuckles split, and lip bloodied. Fred looked back at Lyra, who was watching him with wide, stunned eyes.
Collins scrambled to his feet, clutching his jaw, muttering curses under his breath as he stumbled back towards the party, shooting Fred a murderous look but retreating nonetheless.
Lyra was silent for a moment, catching her breath as she glanced at him, then at his bloodied shirt. "You're a mess," she said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Fred smirked, wincing slightly as he wiped his split lip. "I'm used to it by now." he replied, breathing out in exhaustion. He went over to the wall across from him, leaning against it with his head high.
He moved his head slightly to get a better look of her. For once, words weren't necessary. In that moment, the space between them seemed charged, and yet, neither moved to close it.
"Thank you for that," she said softly, her usual biting tone absent, as she took a place against the wall oppisite of him.
Fred smirked slightly, his eyes lingered on hers. "No matter how many times I beat him up, It seems like he'll never get the hint." he muttered.
Lyra smirked faintly, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Maybe he's persistent," she replied, her tone light but her gaze steady on him. "You're not exactly subtle either, Weasley."
Fred pushed himself off the wall with a cocked smirk. "Subtle's never been my style," he said, taking a step closer to her. His tone dropped, quieter now, edged with something she couldn't quite place. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"
Lyra tilted her head up at him, her confidence flickering. She was used to their verbal sparring, but this felt very different. "What's your point?" she asked, her voice quieter now.
Fred's jaw tensed and he looked away and took a sharp exchale before turning his attention towards her. He took a slow step towards the Slytherin girl, and before shecould react his hand was pressed flat against the wall beside her head, caging her in.
She blinked and felt her heart pounding as she looked up at him, suddenly very aware of how close he was. Aware of the slit in his lip, and the small scar across his eyebrow from his previous fight with Collins. Aware of how his hazel eyes lit up by the candles around them, and hos his pupil dilated when he looked at her.
"What are we doing, Lyra?" he asked, his voice a low plead. His face was inches from hers, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her breath catch.
"What is this between us? Because I can't figure it out, and it's driving me mad."
Lyra swallowed hard, her back and thighs pressed against the cold stone wall. She winched slightly as her naked legs hit the cold wall. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, though her voice betrayed her with a slight tremble.
Fred let out a short laugh, the sound almost bitter. "Don't play dumb, because I know you're not this naive," he said, his free hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "You know exactly what I mean."
His thumb lingered for a second too long against her cheek as he lost focus, and Lyra felt heat rise to her face. "Weasley, this is hardly the time-"
"Don't." Fred interrupted, his tone sharp but not unkind. "Don't, brush this off like it's nothing. You drive me insane, Lyra. You're infuriating, and stubborn, and half the time I don't know if I want to argue with you or-"
He stopped himself, surprised by his own words. His eyes darkening as they sublty flicked down to her lips.
Lyra felt her pulse quicken, and without realising she tightly shut her thigs together, ignoring the growing sensation between her legs. Her breath shallow. "Or what?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Fred's jaw clenched "Or kiss you until you stop talking," he muttered, his voice rough as his hand slid from the wall and to her waist, pulling her slightly closer just so their legs touched, the mere sensation making him groan slightly.
"I know you feel it too." He whispered.
Lyra's breath hitched, her hands instinctively finding their way to his chest, not to push him away but to ground herself. She could feel his heart pounding under her palms, matching the erratic rhythm of her own.
"And what's stopping you?" she asked, her voice soft but challenging.
Fred's eyes burned into hers, and for a moment, it seemed like he might close the distance. His grip on her waist tightened, and she could feel the heat radiating off him. But then he pulled back, just enough to look her in the eye. A sigh of irritation escaping his lips.
"What's stopping me?" he repeated, his tone quieter now, almost pained. "The fact that I know you'll make me regret it the second I do."
Lyra opened her mouth to respond, but Fred wasn't done. "You make me feel things I don't want to feel," he admitted, his voice raw.
"You're in my head all the damn time, and I hate it. I hate that I want you, and I hate that I can't stop wanting you. It's so wrong. My head is a big mess. A collision of feelings. "
Lyra's heart ached at the vulnerability in his words. She reached up, hesitating for a moment before brushing her fingers lightly over the split in his lip. "Fred," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.
He closed his eyes briefly at her touch, leaning slightly into it before pulling back again, his expression torn. "You're a bloody menace," he muttered, though his tone lacked any real venom.
"And you're an idiot," she shot back, a small, shaky smile playing on her lips.
Fred let out a low laugh, his forehead coming to rest against hers. "You're impossible," he murmured, his voice softer now.
"So are you," she replied, her hands still resting on his chest.
For a moment, they stayed like that, the tension between them thick and undeniable. But just as the space between them seemed to shrink, footsteps echoed down the corridor, breaking the spell.
Fred stepped back abruptly, running a hand through his hair and cursing under his breath. Lyra blinked, the sudden distance between them leaving her feeling unsteady.
"Go," Fred muttered, jerking his head toward the common room. "Before I change my mind."
Lyra hesitated, her eyes lingering on him for a moment longer before she turned and walked away, her heart pounding in her chest.
Fred watched her go, leaning back against the wall and letting out a long, frustrated sigh. "Bloody menace," he muttered to himself, though the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
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