Effervescence | h.p.

ii | i. when we feel

Summers never seemed as hard as this one did for Lyra.

She had previously tended to struggle with self-worth and feeling like she belonged.

She loved her dads with all her heart and she couldn't bear to lose either of them, but she couldn't help but feel that sometimes she didn't belong. No matter how many times Sirius and Remus made it their mission to make sure she felt worthy of their love and make her feel like she was part of them, which she was, she would always struggle when her mental health deteriorated temporarily.

She knew as well as Sirius and Remus that she was theirs biologically — connected to one just as much as she was the other because of their magical procedure used to procure her. She knew she belonged in her family and that they had obviously gone out of their way to bring her into the world, so why did she feel like she was a burden to them? Why did she feel like they never wanted her?

She struggled with this, as some adopted kids would struggle with feeling like they were part of the family they were placed with — the family they were selected by. She felt like they didn't know her, and they felt awful for not being able to mend her broken heart.

"Lyra, love, please come out of your room," Sirius pleaded through the door with her, understanding that this was one of her episodes where she felt particularly alone in this world.

She had locked herself in her room, only leaving to eat quickly when she thought no one was watching her or paying attention, but Remus and Sirius were. They watched attentively as she sat, twirling her fork sadly, staring off into the unknown as she thought carefully of Merlin-knows-what. Maybe she was thinking about her friends, maybe she was sulking in her feeling of separation from her family — only she would know. She never shared her feelings on the matter with her fathers.

"Go away," she said back, her voice sounded strained as if she had been crying.

"Lyra, we know how you're feeling — " Remus started, only to be cut off by his daughter's voice through the wooden door once again.

"No you don't! You'll never understand because you've never had to grow up how I have!" she yelled, not thinking of the repercussions that would come later. The guilt, the tears she would shed, the hurt she would feel for her dads — she let those go as she let out her frustration and sadness all at once.

"You're right, we didn't," said Sirius, trying to ignore the precarious statement his daughter made, knowing she was just trying to push them farther away. "But we know that you're feeling upset and that you don't feel like you belong here. But you do, sweetheart, and we love you."

"You're just saying that," she muttered just loud enough for them to hear. "You know as well as I do that I'm not meant to be here."

That's when Sirius and Remus knew their daughter's statement had multiple meanings, each one as sad as the other. They knew she meant she wasn't supposed to miraculously survive the unavoidable killing curse that was sent hurtling toward her as a baby. Before then, even, when she was born in a different way than everyone else, when she was the only child that had been produced through the magical procedure. She meant when she got hit with the same green spell for a second time in a century and came out alive, unlike any other victim.

"Honey, please let us in," Remus begged. If Lyra was going to use double-meaning sentences, he would do the same.

They wanted her to open up to them more about her feelings that she would always conceal from everyone, not wanting to put that pressure on them. They wanted her to let them into her room to hug her and kiss her and make her feel wanted and loved. They wanted her to let them in on everything that she was.