II. roman holiday | blaise zabini

chapter 20

chapter 20

"the stakes are high,
the water's rough
but this love is ours"

-Taylor Swift

Lyra felt nauseous. There was blood dripping from her palm, prickly grass stuck to her shirt, and dirt clinging to her short, Harry-styled hair. Her own features were coming back into place, slowly but surely Lyra felt her face structure reforming and her form changing back to that of a girl.

She couldn't bring herself to look down at her hand as her dad pulled her up, supporting her weight as he leads her to the Burrow. A wand was raised at them the second the door opens, Remus pointing it between the Knights, Harry just behind him.

"The last thing Cillian said before leaving on that mission."

"'We'll be alright. I'll find you on the other side.'"

The wand was dropped, and Remus stepped to the side, while Harry rushed to help Lyra into the house.

"What happened?" Harry asked, inspecting the cuts on Lyra's wrist. Still, she didn't look at them.

"We had a run-in with--"

"Cassiopeia." She continued when her father cut himself off, ignoring the glances between Remus and Harry. "Where are the others?"

"We're the only ones back so far," Remus responded, handing Elliot a bottle of water and Lyra a vial and gauze.

"Where's George?" Lyra asked as she poured a few drops onto her arm, wincing as it burned, before wrapping it in the bandage. She hoped to Merlin that it would heal enough so she couldn't tell what had been carved on her skin. The tattooed horse reined back at the bandage and galloped around it, never crossing the line where gauze met skin.

"He's in the living room," Remus responds quietly, "He... was hurt."

Lyra shot up from the seat, "What happened?" She didn't wait for a response, already marching towards the living room.

Tufts of hair stood at the edge of the large couch, except it wasn't just the signature Weasleys' fiery red but the crimson red of blood. She neared the couch until she was facing George and with a lurch of her stomach noticed. His ear was gone.

"Oh my--"

Ginny rushed towards her, grabbing onto her bicep, Lyra lifted her injured hand to hold the one wrapped around her arm. "He's going to be ok. No bringing it back, but... he'll live."

Lyra nodded stiffly as she watched Molly pour an ointment into the open wound. The blood caked half of his face. She stared until it became too much and she had to do anything but be in the same room.

"Mrs. Weasley, is there anything I can help with?"

Molly, distractedly looked up at the two girls, seemingly just realizing they were there, "Oh, yes. Er-- would you be a dear and grab me some warm water from the kitchen, the clean buckets are under the sink. And Ginny, grab a rag from the laundry outback, and some gauze."

With a nod, Lyra made her way to the kitchen, filled a bucket with gauze, and brought it back to the living room where Mrs. Wealsey took it along with the rag Ginny brought and began carefully cleaning at the bloody areas on George's face.

"Lyra, dear." Molly said as she wet a rag, "You should sit, you've had a long night."

She was just about to decline when Ginny pulled her down to the nearest loveseat, glaring when Lyra looked ready to protest. Instead, she just smiled tightly, patting at the armrest. Mrs. Welasy didn't pay them any mind, attention already zeroed in on her injured son.