"That's right," she said, with a subtle smile. The tears in her eyes weren't falling, just clinging to the corners, and she reached up to hastily wipe them away. She supposed the child would need a middle name, too, but they couldn't just put the two together. Lysander Demetrius was far too many syllables, and sounded a bit pretentious, besides — like something the Lestranges might come up with, which had never been the Potter's bent. Lyra didn't think August had much in the way of particularly wordy names on his side of the family, either, probably because Echelon-Arnost was already so ridiculous in and of itself.

So where to get a middle name? She tried to think of something that would sound nice, something meaningless and unconnected to either of them, but then a thought occurred to her which, despite her better judgement, she wasn't quite able to shake.

Maybe if it had been more than a month since she'd heard the news of her brother's death, she would have been able to put reason first and emotion second. She knew that the suggestion was unreasonable, and illogical, if they wanted this child to have the best chance at life — which necessitated having as little as possible to do with her. Still, something in her — some tugging at her heartstrings — forced her to suggest, in a quiet and almost timid way, "M-maybe we could call him Lysander Darcy."