A/N: Again,
massive delays… I started a few major projects in other fandoms
and lost track of some of these fine works!
On the plus side, I’ve rediscovered them now, so hopefully stuff will be
forthcoming. For those reading it, Padfoot’s Journal is now completed… Anyway, thanks to all
the kindly reviews that came forth! It
was rereading all of those that really inspired me to keep writing. Thanks!
And as
usual, the Potterverse doesn’t belong to me. (Though if JKR no longer wants Sirius, I’ll
take him…)
This
chapter: Meeting the parents, a few last pranks, and the end of Padfoot’s Journal with graduation!
There *is*
the possibility of a sequel – this time from Lyri’s point of view – opinions on
that idea very much appreciated!
~*~*~*~
N.E.W.T.s are coming,
with alarming speed. And after getting
into the program, getting kicked out of it wouldn’t go over so well. Especially not since Lyria told her parents
but they want to take us to dinner on the next Hogsmeade weekend…
It might be
a good time to mention that Lyri’s dad scares the shit out of me. He has since I was about four and I was
playing catch on the sidewalk and the ball went over the fence and hit him in
the back of the head. He laughed it off
and brought the ball back and asked if my dad knew I was playing that far from
my house, but the man makes *me* look short and if my dad’s strict, he’s a
Nazi. Lyri’s his youngest child and
quite obviously his favorite, and she’s always been her dad’s little girl. And now, the boy down the street proposed to
that little girl, and he doesn’t like me so much. As far as a girl’s father goes,
And even
worse, I never even owled to ask if he objected to me
marrying Lyri, which *my* dad pointed out would have been the gentlemanly thing
to do. (Which Lyri said is probably why
I didn’t think of it. Honestly, she’s
lucky I love her.)
So I’m
facing interrogation which is only slight less terrifying than actually
*asking* Lyria was, and this time I’ve got her to back me up.
More if I
live through the weekend…
My girl’s
father hates me.
Dinner was a
massive disaster which Prongs assured me was even worse than when he met
“We’re going
to wait a little bit,” Lyria told her, squeezing my hand gently under the
table. I squeezed back with a smile at
her.
“Why’s
that?”
“
“Does this boy
of yours speak, Lyria?” He cut her off.
A look of
alarm crossed my face - I say alarm, but I suppose it was something more like
sheer terror. “Yes, sir, Lyria and I
think it might be best to give ourselves a little time… we realize we’re
awfully young and while we know we want to spend our lives together – “
“You don’t
actually want to do it,” he supplied.
“That’s not
what I was going to say, sir – “
“If you
dishonor my daughter, boy…”
“
While
I could have kissed Lyri for the request (if her father hadn’t already been
looking at me like he wanted to castrate me), hiding behind her would probably
not make a good impression. “It’s alright, Lyri.”
“If you
dishonor her,” he continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “I will see to it
you pay for it.”
“I’m quite
certain they’re careful, dear,” Lyria’s mother said, placing a hand on his
shoulder as if to restrain him.
However,
clearly he hadn’t gone so far in his thinking yet as she had. He was suddenly expressionless, and it was
scarier than his rage.
“Mother!” Lyria had turned about four shades
of red in the past thirty seconds.
“Lyria, have
you slept with this… this… mongrel?”
His word
choice didn’t help my nerves much.
Lyria
mumbled something to the table.
“Speak
*clearly,* child,” he said, but his glare was already fixed on me. I’d just learned who Lyri had inherited the
Look of Death from.
“Yes, I
have, and I don’t regret that.” She
squeezed my hand again – at least, I think she did. I’m pretty sure I was cutting off circulation
in a few of her fingers.
He got to
his feet. I let out an eep of terror and nearly wet myself.
“Sit down,
you’re making a spectacle of yourself,”
And then
Lyria gently turned my head to face her and kissed me softly, something I would
have enjoyed more if I hadn’t been afraid of instant death when we broke the
kiss.
The glass in
Needless to
say conversation was a little strained after that…
Apparently
Lyri’s mum thought I was ‘such a sweet boy’ that she’s intervening on my behalf
with Lyri’s dad. Thank God.
Anniversary
of something like a hundred months. I lost count.
The war
keeps getting worse. And I feel somehow
abnormally aware of the passing of time… I think it’s because as things get
worse, I get closer to graduating.
And I just
feel like… things are going so fast, passing in such a rush. So much so that I’m
reconsidering waiting to marry Lyri.
I mean, I don’t plan to do it tomorrow or anything, but I just… I guess
I’m starting to agree with her dad. Why
are we waiting, if we know that’s what we want to do anyway?
At least we
aren’t disgusting like
December
14th. We set a date.
N.E.W.T.s have come
from nowhere and are busily kicking my ass.
Would write, but absolutely no time.
It’s a very,
very strange day. Today, we’re going to
board the Hogwarts Express to go home, and we won’t be coming back in the fall.
It’s strange
to think that we’ve graduated, that we’re done here, and it would be even a
little bit scary if there weren’t so many things to look forward to. There’s two weddings – one of which will be
mine, which I *do* find a little scary – and Auror training (I’m pretty sure
the N.E.W.T.s were successful, although
painful). Lyri and I will have our first
Christmas together married this year, and I suppose eventually there’ll be kids
(though we both agree that the first baby had damn well better be Prongs and
Lily’s, because neither of us knows what to do with kids). And yeah, there’s the war, but somehow even
that doesn’t seem quite as scary as it did even a few days ago right now. I feel like we can take on pretty much
anything that gets thrown at us. Even a dark lord.
Lyria put it
best when she pointed out that they don’t call it graduation, they call it
Commencement – a beginning instead of an end.
Well, it’s both (now there’s a paradox to make your brain hurt), but I
think as much as it’s an end to good things, it’s a beginning to something that
may even turn out better…