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Chapter Text

It was another peaceful night. Nothing to be heard but the soft chirps from the crickets outside, and the occasional call from the nocturnal birds of the forest. Inside a dark, damp cabin, just outside the woods, there came some shuffling, before settling down once again.

The night grew on, the frogs soon joining in on the song that the crickets were playing. Soon the sun would rise, and the song shall cease, so they sang while they could.

Then, through the dark trees and foliage, there came rapid footsteps, the leaves crunching underneath the feet of the intruder. Quickening, the footsteps came closer towards the cabin, but then, it stopped.

Through the quiet peaceful night, a scream pierced the air, wakening the forest and the creature within the cabin. The shuffling in the cabin began once again, except this time, coming closer to the window.

A dark figure stood in front of the glass, jerking its head around, looking for movement within the forest. After a few moments, it disappeared, returning to its spot from before. It seemed the source of the sound had gone, and the night continued. The creatures of the night continued their sweet song, as the creatures scurried across the wet, sticky, ground. Neither noticing the small creature that laid among the leaves and grass.

Morning soon came, a bright orange lighting up the sky, and everything within the area. The birds sang happily as they left their nests to find their morning breakfast. The door to the cabin soon swung open, and the figure in the doorway revealed itself to the morning light. He was a tall, lanky kind of man, his skin deathly pale.

Looking around, he took a step out, raising a hand to brush the sandy brown hair out of his eyes. Taking another step, he paused, opening his eyes fully as he caught sight of the edge of the forest. Just between the two oak trees laid a figure, non-moving and covered in something red. Quickly rushing over, he realized that the figure was too small to be an adult, and in that moment he felt as if his heart had dropped.

Laying below him was a child, limp and bleeding from what looked to be an injury on their shoulder. Covering his mouth, he stumbled over to a clearing and threw up the contents of his stomach, and everything he had the day before. Once he had been unable to release anymore, he took a deep breath and decided his next course of action. Stumbling over to the small child, he picked them up, trying not to cry as the child flopped about like a ragdoll. No, he mustn’t let his emotions get ahead of him. He would not focus on the stickiness of the child's skin, nor how light they were in his arms. Instead he would focus on the small raise of the chest that he would see every few seconds, the small heartbeat that he could hear with what senses he had left from the night before.

Kicking the door shut behind him with his foot, he rushed over to the dusty old loveseat and placed the child on there, being careful not to touch the wound on their shoulder. Once the child was situated, he started patting himself down frantically, quickly shoving his shaking hands in his pockets before letting out a sound of victory as he took out a long wooden stick.
Lowering himself onto his knees, he pointed the wood at the small thing, "Scourgify." The dried blood and leaves disappeared, revealing what he could only assume was a small girl. Moving over to the wound, his eyes widened with recognition as he saw the angry raised flesh was in the shape of a bite. Quickly standing up, he pointed his wand in the air, "Expecto Patronum."

A silvery white light soon came out and danced around the man playfully, but he kept his face stern, "Dumbledore, please come, we have a problem." The light gave a jump and took off out of the cabin and into the sky, off into the search of the receiver. Turning back around to the girl, he let out a shaky sigh, "Okay..okay..we need silver and dittany.." Taking in another breath, he rushed over to the cabinets, moving around the objects inside before taking out two jars. With a clatter, he dropped them on the counter and dragged over stone mortar that lay before him.

Opening the first jar, he poured in the powdered silver, not bothering to stop and see how pretty it shimmered in the dim light. Grabbing the next jar, he poured in the dittany, making sure it was proper measurements. With a quick glance to the figure on the couch, he picked up the pestle and started mixing them together, holding the mortar in his hand. Once the consistency was what he wanted, he headed over to the young girl. Taking a scoopful in his hand, he began applying it to the wound, watching it begin to heal up before his eyes. Once the wound was fully covered, he placed the mortar on the table and began looking her over for any more injuries. He noticed a few scars and decided to bide his time healing them, waving the wooden stick over them and whispering, "Episky."

Soon, the young girl was all healed up and he began to notice her breathing steadying, and with that, his did too. With the sound of a pop, he looked up and saw an aged old man standing behind the couch, "Dumbledore.."

Dumbledore looked from the panicked young man to the source of the panic, his face turning sullen, "Oh dear..seems we do have a problem..eh Lupin?"

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"Mommy! Daddy!" She whimpered out, her voice breaking as she heard the sharp screams of her mother. Curling her small body up, she lifted her head and cautiously looked around her room from the small gap of the closet doors. She could see the shadows of her stuffed animals in the dim pink light, her favorite teddy laying on the edge of her bed, right where she left it.

Footsteps were coming closer to her bedroom door, and her hands fumbled to cover her mouth. The thudding soon came to a stop, and a loud sniff came from just outside the door. She tried her best to not to make a sound, worried that whatever the monster was, it could smell her fear. Closing her eyes, she tried to take small breaths, listening carefully for any sound, anything that could give her a sense of safety.

Her bedroom door began to creep open, her eyes forcing themselves open, leaning over to look through the crack once again. But, nothing was there. Looking over at the door, she was surpised to see that it was closed. Was it just her imagination?

"There, there little one.." A deep voice purred, followed by a thud just outside her closet. Her body stiffened up as she heard him, a cold chill running down her spine as she finally caught sight of the dark figure at her bed. She watched as it picked up her teddy and brought it up to where it’s face would be, taking in a deep sniff. She was reminded of her Daddy’s old hunting dog, it used to sniff things too, before it would..

"I know you're here. Come out, come out, wherever you are.." He teased in a singing tone, looking directly towards the small white closet. She watched as the monsters face screwed up into a twisted smile, his beady black eyes glinting in the dim light, seemingly staring into the small crack and looking directly at her. He couldn't see her, could he? It wasn't possible. With childlike curiousity, she wanted to test it, so she raised her hand, slowly moving it into a wave. The monster remained still, still grinning and staring, until..he raised his hand. Fearfully she grabbed the blanket around her and pulled it over her head.
The thudding was coming closer. She recoiled further in the small space, flinching each time she felt the vibration from the floorboards. She refused to look, she didn't want to see, this was all going to be just a dream. Then when she woke up, she was going to see her mommy and daddy again. And they were going-

She felt the cold air rush past her shoulders as the doors to the closet were ripped open. Grabbing the edge of the blanket, she slowly peeled it off her head, shivering as she looked up. She wished she hadn’t looked.

"Hello there, little one." The Monster crooned, staring down at her with glee. Before she could say anything, he reached out and grabbed her tiny wrist, jerking her up to her feet. As the blanket fell from her, she tried to grab it, but no luck. The monster held her wrist in his secure grip, staring down at her with a strange look of hunger in his eyes. "Scrawny little thing, aren't you? I usually prefer my meals to have a little meat on their bones." He taunted, licking his lips as she dangled from his grasp.

"P..Please sir..please let me go!" She pleaded, her small hand trying to get her wrist released from his hold. Ignoring her cries, he lifted the toddler up higher, pressing his nose to the crook of her neck. She began to tremble as his hot breath blew on her ear, the prickly hairs on his face scratching her skin. "You want to be let go? But little prey, we've barely.." He paused in his speech, something outside catching his attention.

The young girl let out a yelp as she was dropped to the ground, looking up at the man in fear as his face lit up with glee. "Very well, prey, let's play a game. You run, and if I catch you.." He trailed off as the bright moonlight falling upon him, and she immediately caught on. It was just like the chasing game the old hunting dog would play. But she was bigger than a rabbit, she hoped she could run just as fast. she leapt to her feet, taking off out the room as he began to transform, a loud howl tearing through the house and echoing into the night.

She couldn't remember how long it had been; all she had done was run, not looking where she was going. She had tried to take a break a while back and the sight of the beast tearing into the tree that she had been at was enough to make her quiet that idea. But she could only run for so long. Her legs were growing tired. Her throat was so dry from screaming. Her body lacked the energy to keep going.

Then, at that moment, there was flash of light in her vision. Finally coming to a stop, she saw the dark cabin in the distance. Her mother always taught her not to talk to strangers, but she was already in danger, she was sure her mom would understand. But, her mother wasn’t able to disapprove anymore, would she? She was gone. She shook the tears away, she needed to focus on her main adjective. She had to get help. There was no choice.

Taking another step, she felt her nightshirt being snatched from behind and a burning pain in her shoulder. Letting out a pain wrenched scream, she turned to see the beady red eyes of the beast staring sadistically into hers as he tore his teeth into her skin. She could feel the hot blood dripping down her chest, her shoulder sharply stinging which each time he clamped his jaw over and over on the flesh. This wasn’t a quick mercy. He was doing this just to hurt her, to draw it out. Soon her body began to feel numb, her cries dying down. He pulled away, being sure to drag his teeth across the flesh one last time. Releasing her from his grasp, her limp body slammed lifelessly onto the ground. She lost the game.

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What was that sound? It was so loud. It felt like drums in her ears. She squeezed her eyes a bit tighter, breathing in slowly. She could hear the increasing beat of her heart, a muffled voice joining in faintly from above her. She tried to open her eyes, but she just couldn't. She didn’t have the strength in her. The beating in her ears subsiding, the voice coming in a bit clearer, she recognized it to be a man. Wait, there was another voice, two men. Squeezing her right hand into a weak fist, she felt her heartbeat pick up as she began to drift closer to the sound. Taking in another breath, she managed to tighten her left fist next.

"-take her!"

"She needs-…I trust you."

"No not me…"

She tried her eyes again, managing to crack them open a tiny bit before being blinded by the bright light.

"She'll be outcast, cursed.."

"It's too late for that, Remus."

Focusing, she realized that they were both on either side of her, the one on her left sounded like a nice old grandpa, while the one on her right was scared, his voice was so shakey. The one on the right let out a sigh, and some shuffling came from him.

"Doesn't she-…..any family?'

"No, I went to the-…it seems her parents were the victims of Fen-…."

Furrowing her brow, she got upset as she couldn't hear the whole conversation. She always hated being left out. Breathing in, she tried to move her feet, only managing to wiggle a toe. It felt like her whole body was asleep, and it probably was, and maybe she should too. Giving in to the tired feeling, she drifted out, only catching the end of the younger one's sentence.

"-I'll raise her.."

Chapter Text

"Do you have a name?"

Remus watched as the young pup fiddled with the sheets, keeping her eyes anywhere but him. She was scared, he knew that. It will take a while for them to build trust, but then again, they had all the time in the world.

Once he had realized she wasn't going to say anything, he decided to get up, it was close to tea time and she will need to eat something to bring her energy back up. He knew even without a full transformation, her body could still be feeling the effects from the moon. Giving her an awkward smile, he shuffled out of the room and towards the kitchen. His ears picked up a rustle from the room he just left, and soon after, the soft padding of feet following him. Opening the fridge, he looked around the inside, trying to figure out what to make for the young thing.

Hearing the sounds come to a stop behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, seeing the girl standing by fridge, her gaze downward at the floor. Tilting his head confused, he turned back to the fridge, looking through it once again, "Ah here we are." He reached in and grabbed the jam, standing back up and closing the fridge. Turning around, he headed over to the cabinets to find the peanut butter.

The sounds continued again, following after him. A smile began to spread on his lips, taking the jar and placing it on the counter, "Are you allergic to peanuts?" He waited a moment, but there was no response. Of course that didn't work. He’s already figured he probably won’t get a verbal response out of her for a while. He turned around to her, looking to see if perhaps she was shaking her head.

She stood there still as a statue, her eyes locked on the floor. Leaning his hips onto the countertop, he observed her for a moment, they needed a form of communication with the other. Even if she didn’t speak. Bringing the jar down to her height, he saw her look through the bangs covering her eyes. Speaking softly, “Could you tap the jar with your hands if you would like it?” He asked, waiting patiently to see if she’d follow his request.

It was only a few seconds, but to him, it felt like an hour. He began to worry that he requested too much of her. He didn’t even know her age, he imagined she had to be around 6 or 7. He knew he’d have to get her officially checked out by Poppy, Dumbledore had already ordered it, but only once she felt comfortable to go.

His thoughts were cut off by her brushing past him to tap the jar of jam behind him, the glass sliding a bit on the counter. She did it, she followed what he said. He reached for the bread, popping the peanut butter back into the cupboard, “Okay, got it, so no peanuts.” He had to admit, she was pretty cute. And now they had a form of communication, sort of. Opening the jam, he decided to try something else. For curiosities sake. "Could you bring me a butter knife please? It's the drawer on the right." He asked, using a kind tone.

Remus heard the sound of a drawers opening, the clattering of silverware, and the soft pattering soon returned. He didn’t turn, he waited. He knew she could already communicate. But he wanted to see where her boundaries were, how she could get his attention if he can’t see her. However, he was caught off guard when instead of a tap, there was instead a tug on his sweater.

He said nothing though, looking down as she held the butter knife out to him, her gaze on the wall opposite to them. Reaching, he took the knife carefully, "Thank you.." He drawled off, hoping for her to give him her name. But all he got was a nod, and then just silence. Well, he wouldn’t push it. They’ve already gotten so far, he didn’t want her to retreat back into herself. Turning back around, he began making the sandwich.

Once he finished, he grabbed a napkin and took the plate over to the table, knowing she would already be following closely behind. Placing the plate down with a soft clatter, he pulled out a chair for her, stepping back so she could get in. The sunlight was streaming through the windows of the cabin, allowing him to get a full view of her. She was very small, Dumbledore had transfigured her shredded clothes into a simple sleep set. His lips quirked up as he noticed the little lions that decorated them, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it perhaps was a copy of something Dumbledore himself wore. He could imagine the old headmaster in Gryffindor pajamas.

His smile fell rather quickly though when he caught the white bandages that poked out from under the sleep shirt. Focusing on something else, he looked towards her face, mainly her eyes. They were locked onto the chair, looking as if she just zoned out, but something in his instincts told him that she wasn’t. She was analyzing. He didn’t think that she’d start getting wolfish tendencies until her first turn, but being a child who just went through a traumatic event, he could understand her being cautious.
Right now, it could seem like everything was out to get her, even just a chair. Turning around, as he grabbed some glasses from the cupboards, there was a squeaky scraping sound behind him. She must have decided it was safe. Pouring some milk into the glasses, he headed over to her place at the table, her face no longer in view, obscured by her hair.

He placed the glass down beside the plate, it only making a soft thud on the wood, "There you are." Reaching out with her tiny hands, she picked it up and lifted it up to her mouth to take an eager sip. Remus watched her, a smile making its way on his face, enjoying that he learned another thing she liked. Heading back into the kitchen area, he decided to make a sandwich of his one. Perhaps if he wasn't watching, she'd eat.

Taking another few slices of bread, he began to spread the jam slowly onto the bread. Unable to resist, he quickly glanced over his shoulder, relieved to see her taking small bites of her sandwich. Once he finished making his, he turned back around to see her plate and glass was empty, "Did..you eat it all?" She tapped the table once, he supposed that meant yes. Walking over to join her, he heard her stomach growl, "Want another?" She hesitated for a moment before giving another tap on the table. He placed his plate in front of her, "Here you go, I'll get you some more milk."

Standing up, he went over to the fridge. Opening the door, he grabbed the milk carton and spun back around to find her sitting there, her plate empty. Raising an eyebrow, he headed over, uncapping the milk and pouring it into her glass, "Still hungry?" This time he was rewarded with her shaking her head. She reached out for the full glass, chugging it down in large gulps. Once the milk was empty, she placed it on the table and let out a soft content sigh. He felt his heart swell, she wasn’t just kinda cute, she was adorable.

Placing the milk carton on the table just in case, he noticed that her face was covered in crumbs and jam. Amused, he didn’t think what he was doing as he took the napkin and reached forward, gently wiping the mess off her face. As he did, her eyes had begun to slowly make their way up to him, staring at him with curiosity and wonder. It was then, as he looked back, it finally hit them that he could actually see her face. More importantly, two beautiful orbs of amber, shining almost like gold as they hit the light. Just like his.

The way she looked at him set his fate in stone, curiosity was normal to see in a child’s eyes, but hers were also filled with trust. He felt his eyes begin to water as he realized the responsibility he now held, he had to do everything in his power to make sure she grew up feeling safe and nurtured. He already lost so many people in his life, he could not lose her. This sudden possession that overwhelmed his chest only magnified, as if the wolf inside agreed. After a moment, Remus broke the eye contact, "Do you want some more milk?"

"Cyra.."

Looking back over at her quickly, he stumbled over his own words before he managed to choke out, "W-What did you say?" She just picked up her glass, holding out for him, "I'm Cyra." Her voice was so small, as if it might shatter if she spoke any louder. But that did not stop the grin that spread on his face as he took the glass, "Well, hello Cyra. I am Remus."

He uncapped the carton once again, wondering to himself if he should just leave it open, "Hello Remus” The small pup answered back, a bit more confidence now. He popped her glass back in front of her, giving her a wink, “Hello Cyra. Welcome home.”

Chapter Text

The next two days were fairly normal between the two, or perhaps as normal as two strangers living together could be. Since the first time she spoke to him, Remus had managed to get more sentences out of her, but only for the things she desired. She was a very polite child though, always said, ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. It was clear to him that she had a rather nice upbringing, he was unsure if he could compete with it. But it wasn’t like they had a choice, she could not return to the world she knew, and neither could he.

He didn’t mind though, he found her presence much more comforting than others. It reminded him of his Marauder years, before everything went to hell. She didn’t complain, either, he felt relieved when she began to learn every nook and cranny of the shabby little cabin he called a home. He knew he would eventually have to break her out of this safe space so they could get her checked up. Remus just didn’t have the heart to do it though.
He really should have taken her before, Dumbledore had told him the moment Cyra had felt comfortable, which he knew she might not be now.

So he delayed it. He didn’t want to lose all the progress he earned with her. But something had to be done; he had noticed the little scratches she did over her bandages. It could get infected if he didn’t take her to Pomfrey. He knew basic healing, but her body had gone through so much more. His stomach turned at the grotesque memory of the marred flesh that decorated her body. That monster had done everything in his power to make her feel pain. Her shoulder was nearly torn to pieces by the bite; he couldn’t understand how she survived it long enough for him to find her. It was like her body was a piece of meat, torn and shredded apart, probably after she passed out from blood loss. If he didn’t think she’d die from it, then the sick son of a bitch did it on purpose so she’d forever live with his mutilations.

Feeling himself getting worked up, he quickly took in a shaking breath, gripping the sides of the armchair he rested in. He’s always despised Greyback for how he cursed him when he was a child, but now, he was filled with nothing but hatred. He used to think when he was younger, if he ever saw the Werewolf on the battlefield; he would do everything in his power to send him to Azkaban. That was the wizard way, using a proper duel, standing alongside justice. But now, he craved blood. He wanted Greyback’s head; mutilate him the way he did this poor child, and show him true pain.

His violent thoughts were silenced as Cyra came into the room, carrying a small book with her. He slowly released his fingers grip from the leather, the imprint of his nails cut into it. She said nothing, going over to the couch and plopping herself down. He had transfigured some of his own night clothes to fit her, though it was rather adorable seeing her in a band tee that she’s probably never even heard of. He didn’t even know what kind of music she enjoyed.

Cyra didn’t say much about herself, but he didn’t really expect much after only two days. Which brought him back around to the point of this inner monologue; he needed to take her to Pomfrey to get checked out. The only thing was convincing her to leave the house. He waited to see if she would say anything in the now very awkward silence that perhaps only he really felt. ‘But alas, nothing,’ he thought with a wry smile.

Deciding it was time to just get it over with, he cleared his throat, the sound quickly gaining her attention as her eyes left the pages in a flash, locking onto him with an intensity that almost made him forget what he was going to say. She was still jumpy, loud sounds sending her into alert. He learned that the first time he accidently knocked a chair over, the poor thing couldn’t be found for a solid 20 minutes. She’d locked herself into the bathroom, curled up in the corner; it had taken him quite a while to coax her out. He learnt treats were the best motivation, though he admitted it felt a bit silly, goading her like a small puppy.

He waited till her shoulders lost the tension, realizing there was no danger and instead just watching him. Leaning forward in the chair, he placed his hands on his knees, looking at her with an open smile. He hoped it would calm her for what he would be doing next. “Cyra” He began, “I’m very glad you are settling in well, but we do need to get you checked out.” She didn’t seem to be upset quite yet, simply waiting, her book put to the side so he had her full attention.

“Now, I have a very good friend who has offered us a place that would be safe and hidden so you can get a proper examination.” Remus put the most pressure on the words he knew she would focus on, and he was right. She was not rejecting the idea, her left hand coming to once again scratch at the outside of the bandages. He tried not to focus on them too much, continuing, “He’s the Headmaster of a School I once went to. Very powerful, and will do everything in his power to make sure you are treated well. So do you feel up to taking that little trip with me today?”

That was it, today. Her eyes widened, panic beginning to enter them, and he began to worry that he would have to do some damage control. But then, it was gone. She gave a silent nod, sliding down from the couch and taking her book from the cushions. He watched as she clutched it to her chest, looking at the floor with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. “Can I bring my book?” Cyra asked politely, quickly adding in, “Please?”

Remus sighed with relief, standing up and stretching out his old joints, “Why, of course you can Cyra. Let me quickly write a letter to my friend, and we’ll travel over in the floo.” That was another thing, the floo. He didn’t quite yet know if she was a muggle or wizard-raised child. Either way, he would still take care of her, but that was why he needed to get her examined. Pomfrey would tell him everything he needed to know. Including diet, he didn’t think the little thing should survive off of jam sandwiches for the rest of her life.

One who didn’t understand his situation may wonder why he didn’t just ask Cyra, but the most answers he’s gotten from said child was, “Mm.” As if she was still thinking about her answer. He figured her parents must have taken care of everything, so she was none the wiser. He could only observe her and get his answers from her actions.
Once he had sent off the letter, he took some time to get dressed in some warmer clothes, he knew how chilly it could be in the castle. Shrinking one of his old jumpers to Cyra size, he carried it out to her, handing it over to her. Once the soft material was in her hands, she slipped her little head through, messy brown curls popping out first. He smiled to himself as he gathered his things, stepping to the fireplace to ready the floo powder.

Remembering to grab her book, she was by his side in an instant, letting him take her hand and lead her in. He waited for her to react, it wasn’t exactly normal for one to step into fire, but Cyra simply just held onto her book as if scared she’d lose it. Taking that as a sign she was okay, he threw the powder beneath them, “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”
As the flames ignited around them in chartreuse green, flickering around their bodies, they disappeared from the residence. Within the blink of an eye, there were in a brightly decorated room, odd trinkets ornamenting the walls, encased in thick glass. He felt the tight squeeze on his hand and looked down at his charge, though she did not return the gaze, her attention was on something, or rather someone else.

“Ah, Mr. Lupin!” Dumbledore’s voice broke through the silence, coming towards them with open arms and twinkle in his eyes. His robes were decorated with bright golden stars, shimmering as he moved in the light from the windows. “I had been wondering when I might see you and the little one, you sure took your time.” The Head reminded him, in which he had to fight the urge to hang his head in shame.

Clearing his throat, he stepped out of the floo, carefully tugging Cyra along, “Yes well, I wanted to be sure she was comfortable before we did. I didn’t want to scare her with all of these new elements.” He was waved off though, the wizard turning around towards the doors and silently leading them out. He followed, as did Cyra, though she seemed to be stuck to his hip like glue, only stepping when he did.

However, her eyes wandered, observing the moving portraits in the hall as they passed them. If any had caught the little one’s curious stares, they simply gave her a wink and a smile before moving on. Before they knew it, they arrived at the infirmary’s doors. Dumbledore pushed them open with a creak before gliding inside, announcing to Pomfrey that her patient had arrived.
It wasn’t as bad as Remus was expecting, Madam Pomfrey had taken her time allowing Cyra to warm up to her presence, simply doing some basic checkups on her reflexes and hearing. She seemed to have a way with children that he himself did not possess; it was as if she never felt an awkward moment with the quiet child. Even Cyra seemed to be amused by her, he could swear he saw her smile when Pomfrey tugged her ear to check for ‘stretchability’.

But then, it came, the moment where Pomfrey would have to undress the wrappings on her and assess the real damage. He saw the joy slip from Cyra’s face, her hands clutching the jumper he had given her, the room grew tense very quickly. Dumbledore took that moment to step out, giving him an opening to do so as well if he wished, but he wanted to stay. He refused to leave Cyra to face this alone.
With his presence, she allowed Pomfrey to lift the jumper, next the shirt underneath. Next thing he knew, she was exposed and shaking, her whole upper body covered in the cloth bandages. Without thinking, he walked over and took her hand in his, trying to offer her as much comfort as he could provide.

Madam Pomfrey gave him a worried look before she began unwinding the bandages, each turn making his heart race faster. She was so young, too young for this to have happened to her. Though he knew he was much younger than her when he was bitten, he at least had his parents to help him through it. She had no one, well, except for him. He understood now why Dumbledore left her in his care, the Head may be old, but he was clever among his years.

Remus was alone, left behind in grief as he lost everything he once knew in one fateful night. His family was either dead or in Azkaban, rotting in a cell for the rest of their traitorous life. She had everything ripped from her in one night, turned into a dark creature that she wouldn’t understand, but he did. Dumbledore put them together for a reason, his calculations proving to be correct. They needed each other, and with such a strong connection already forming, he could only presume that Moony would see her as his own, adopt her into the pack. If she fell into anyone else’s hands, she would be exiled, slandered by both worlds as a monster. He wouldn’t let that happen, he refused for her to live a life of misery because of something she couldn’t control.
He watched the last of the binding leave her body, angry raised flesh coming into clear view. Pomfrey’s face turned grim as her eyes examined over every inch of the girl. Cyra was trembling like a leaf, her eyes remaining locked onto the curtains that hid her away from the world, as if she was scared they would be pulled open.

Her body was a mangled mess, not an inch of her was left without a scar, the bite on her shoulder was deep, and you could still see the puncture wounds. “I’ll get the murtlap essence..” Pomfrey trailed off before rushing out, shutting the curtains quickly behind her. Cyra looked towards where she left, before she allowed her head to tilt down, attempting to look but was stopped by Remus grabbing ahold of her chin. “Don’t look. If you look at your own injury, it might hurt worse.” He tipped her chin back up, stepping in front of her with a reassuring smile, “You’re healing great, don’t worry about it.” She didn’t seem to believe him, but she didn’t look back down again, just keeping her eyes on him until Pomfrey returned, pushing a cart of potions and a jar of yellow slime.

The matron gave her a smile before popping open the top of the jar, “Right dear, this should help sooth some of the itching.” She popped a brush into the jar, gathering some slime into the bristles before starting to paint the scars on her back with them. Cyra jerked away, crying out in a croaky voice, “Cold!” It was the first time he had ever heard her raise her voice, freezing in place, Pomfrey doing just the same.

“Oh my! So she can speak! Well dear, I am sorry to say but I couldn’t warm it up for your comfort. Just relax for me and it’ll be over soon!” She chided, before going right back to painting the wounds with no warning for the girl. Cyra looked embarrassed, refusing to meet Remus’s eyes now, so she couldn’t see the amused grin forming on his face.

At the very end, Cyra was pouting and shivering, her eyes narrowing at Pomfrey as she was wrapped back up in her bandages. The matron didn’t seem to notice, finishing up her work before handing back her shirt, “Alright dear, pop this on, and we can continue our examination.” Cyra’s brows furrowed, slipping her shirt back on before turning to Remus worried, her eyes saying, ‘There’s more?!’ He just smiled back, giving her a gentle pat on the head.

Knowing she was getting nothing from him, her head whipped back around to the matron, fear striking as she saw the needle that was being held. Pomfrey tutted at as the girl resisted all attempts to give her hand, “Now dear, it’ll be just a prick. I just need a wee bit of blood from you, you won’t even feel it!” Cyra kept whipping her hands all around, more alive than he’s ever seen her, she had reached fight or flight at this point. Pomfrey simply couldn’t keep up with the wily girl, giving an annoyed huff before she whipped out her wand, “Immobulus!”
The moment the words left her mouth, Cyra was frozen in place, stuck in the position of her arms in midair. Giving a delighted hum, she quickly pricked her finger, collecting the drop in the vial before cleaning the area quickly. Remus tried not to laugh as Dumbledore chimed in, “Poppy, I didn’t hear you casting a charm upon that young girl, did I?” You could hear the laughter in his voice, obviously finding this whole situation very amusing.

“It was either that or end up accidently pricking an artery, Albus!” The matron replied with no shame, cleaning up her tray before releasing the girl from the spell. The moment she came to, she pulled her hands to her chest protectively, glaring at the woman with distrust. Pomfrey said nothing, waving her wand over the vial, “Now then! Let’s see here!” She muttered at incantation that Remus didn’t recognize, a list forming in golden script above the vial. Cyra watched in wonder as words appeared, seeing her own name being written in beautiful cursive, ‘Cyra Owens’

“Owens? That is a muggle name, is it not?” Remus inquired. Pomfrey gave him a swift nod before reading through, “Her father was a muggle, by the name of Rupert Owens. Mother would be a halfblood, maiden name Mira Lyrons.” Outside the curtains, Dumbledore made a noise, “Ah..Ms. Lyrons. She graduated a few years before you, Lupin. Hufflepuff, and brilliant at Divination, she was.” Remus wracked his brain for a Lyrons, but nothing was coming to mind. Then again, he and his friends never paid much mind to the Hufflepuffs.

Pomfrey examined through the list, ignoring the men, “Dear, you were born on August 23rd 1978, correct?” Cyra gave her a quick nod, trying her best to read the words on the list, though it was backwards to her. Remus quickly tried to do the math, that meant she was turning 7 years old soon, he still had a few months to plan. She may not want a birthday party, he didn’t know her that well yet, but what 6 year old didn’t?

Pomfrey wrote a few things down before diminishing the list, placing her notebook to the side, “Right then! Next is some potions to help speed up recovery! I’ll have you running around Lupin in no time!” She corked the first vial and passed it over to Cyra, who took it with a frown, “Drink up!” Cyra refused, looking towards Remus for help. He almost caved because of how wide her little eyes were, but he gathered the strength to shake his head, “It won’t harm you. Just a quick swallow and it’ll be all over with.” Cyra’s gaze went back to Pomfrey’s wand, considering her options before she put the vial to her lips and dunked it back. She swallowed as quickly as possible, giving a gag after she finished.
“Wonderful job, dear! Now only four more to go!” Pomfrey cheered, turning to grab the next one. Cyra’s eyes widened with doom, her lips pressing together tightly. It was as if this checkup would never end. He sat through her torture, trying not to laugh as each potion seemed to get worse tasting than the last. After it was all over, he went over to rub her back, comforting her as she moped, “I know. I’m sorry I let her do that to you. She scares me too, I tried my best to gain the courage, but alas..”

Dumbledore walked in, observing the pair with those twinkling eyes of his, waiting for a proper moment to speak, “Poppy is writing down a list of Ms. Cyra’s allergies, and also the potions she’ll be needing to take while at home. I managed to convince her to perhaps flavor them to save our dear friend’s tastebuds.” Cyra moved her tongue around in her mouth, grimacing as if she could still taste them.

“Thank you Headmaster, I really appreciate your help.” Remus gratefully thanked him, but he was stopped by Dumbledore’s raised hand, “No need to thank me. You are doing a wonderful thing, taking in this little one. Besides, what is that phase Muggles use? It takes a village to raise a child? Well, here you have Hogwarts.” Remus furrowed his brows, staring at him in confusion, “I don’t..understand. What do you mean?” Before he could answer, Pomfrey rushed back in with a box of potions and the papers meant for him to read, “Alright dears! I also added in a nutrition help list, a young girl her age needs a proper diet! Especially when her body is healing!”

Remus took the papers, reading over it, it was quite a lot. Who knew kids took so much work? How was he going to afford all of this? He had a small job at a bookshop, but even he didn’t know how long that was going to last. Could he really do this? He could barely afford his lifestyle, could he really bring up a child properly?

A throat clearing broke his train of thought, looking towards Dumbledore again, “Now, as I was saying. This is a praiseworthy act you are doing, Mr. Lupin. But, it is a task I placed upon you myself. Therefore, it is also my responsibility. You will find Hogwarts will always be prepared to take care of a future witch.” Remus had to sit down, his mind reeling from the shock.

Dumbledore continued, “She already has money her family has left behind in their will, but she will be unable to access it until she is of age. For now, however, you need not worry of how you will afford her meals. I have already written to Gringotts, my letter should be arriving shortly, and the money will be placed into your account. I also took the liberty of sending a letter to an Arthur Weasley, I’m sure you remember him, as he is now a father of seven. I’m sure he can help you in any advice you may need, as well as perhaps some play dates? I believe he has twin boys that is Cyra’s age, and what clever things they are.”

Pomfrey scoffed at that, “If by clever, you mean little devils! I swear they are going to give me a run for my money just as much as one certain group!” Remus cringed at the sharp glare she shot him, shifting him further away from her. Turning back around, he tried to form words to say, his mouth hanging open as Dumbledore awaited his response.

“Sir..I..” He was at a loss for words, staring at the Headmaster in wonder. Dumbledore walked over to Cyra, placing his wrinkled hand on her head, “Ms. Cyra, you are a very strong little girl. You’ve faced the horrors of the most brutal and savage man the Wizarding World has seen, and lived to tell the tale. It would be an indecency if I did not assist in making sure you stay safe from now on.” Cyra said nothing, staring up at him curiously, before turning away to look at Remus. He smiled back at her, reassuring her that the words Dumbledore spoke were true. She was going to be safe, and he would do everything in his power to protect the pack he had left.

Chapter Text

“You’re welcome to stay for dinner,” Remus perked his head up in surprise at Dumbledore’s words, “Allow the little one to explore a bit. She seemed to be entertained by the portraits earlier.” He quickly shook his head, “No, no, we couldn’t. Plus, I don’t know how she would handle so many people. She might get overwhelmed.” The child in question was sitting on the cot, her attention flicking back and forth between the two men as each spoke.

Dumbledore’s gaze stayed still, his eyes twinkling with the wisdom that would take Remus years to achieve, “Now Remus, don’t you think it’s time to expand her horizons? Like I said, Hogwarts is her home, but it is also yours.” Before Remus could pipe in, he continued, “Besides, I believe this little one should have a proper meal that isn’t jam sandwiches, despite how delicious a jam can be.” The young man hung his head in shame, but before he could sink too low, the Headmaster placed his warm hand on his shoulder, “Now, none of that. You two are honored guests, and I believe as guests you deserve a tour, eh?”

With that, the elder man turned to Cyra, who was staring at both of them with wide and curious eyes. Giving a gentle smile, he offered his hand to her, “Allow me to welcome you to Hogwarts, Miss Cyra.” Slipping off of the cot, her shoes made a soft thud on the stone floors, her hand softly clasping around two of Dumbledore’s fingers before giving a weak shake. If she could get over the fear of the situation, so could he.

Remus reasoned with himself that he needed to be strong for her, coming over to stand behind her, “We would be delighted to join you, sir.” There was that damn twinkle again, Dumbledore giving him a knowing smile before spinning around, the starry robes twinkling in the light, “Well then, let’s take a tour, shall we?”
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As they ventured down the halls, Cyra kept close by him, clinging to his hand tighter as the pearly-white ghosts glided before them, talking animatedly amongst themselves and paying no mind to the trio. Headmaster Dumbledore simply offered them a nod before continuing on, “Our students are currently preparing for their finals, so we shan’t worry of much attention upon our little guest.” Remus gave a small laugh, that did make him feel better, “Merlin help those kids, N.E.W.T.s are downright awful.”

Despite what the Headmaster said, there were a few curious stares they received, but were ignored. Cyra refused to meet any gazes, keeping her eyes straight on the doors they were approaching. As they were pushed open, sunlight streamed in, causing Cyra to freeze and shut her eyes. Remus looked down at the pup curiously, seeing her rub at her eyes furiously, “Oh dear.” He halted his steps, bending down to carefully pick her up, “It’s bright, isn’t it?” As she buried her face into his neck, he continued on beside Dumbledore, who had stopped upon noticing they weren’t following.

Feeling awkward in the silence, he piped in quietly, “Her senses are still new, sounds and light can be too much at times. She hasn’t gone outside because of it.” Dumbledore gave him a hum, before commenting, “Noted. Perhaps we should take her somewhere a bit more shaded then?” With that, he began heading towards a familiar hut. Remus held tight to his charge, following after him, being careful of his steps.

Seeing the grounds brought something painful to his chest, remembering his old reckless days with the people he considered family. Hogwarts was truly a student’s safe haven, but his friends were the ones who made it home. Upon that thought, another came, one that caused him to furrow his brows, “Dumbledore..” He heard no response, but he knew he was listening, “How come..I mean, how is it that I can care for Cyra, but they wouldn’t let me take him in? I know I wasn’t his godfather, but I’m sure that Lily and James..” His voice broke for a moment, causing him to turn silent.

Dumbledore was quiet as well, continuing on the path. After a moment, his worn voice cut through the silence, “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask Remus. But as you know, the prejudice that the Ministry holds against those affected by Lycanthropy, it is.. something that has yet to change even after all of these years. With the same reasoning they used with you against Harry, they applied to Cyra, but with an exception.”
Those last words hung in the air, followed by nothing but silence.

He didn’t want to ask, because he felt he already knew the answer, his hand balling up the jumper that hung around the small child as she clung to him. After a moment, he gritted out from his clenched teeth, “What was the exception?” Dumbledore finally stopped, letting out a sigh with his head dropping for a moment before he turned to look Remus dead in the eye, the disgust brimming from his voice, “The exception was that a ‘monster’ would be better to care for one of their own than to send it to a ‘normal’ family.”

Feeling the tension, Cyra lifted her head, squinting to look at Remus’s furious expression. The chest she laid on was rumbling, like a deep growl building from within his chest. Dumbledore shot his hands up in defense, “Their words, not mine, you know that Remus. Trust me, I was just as repulsed.” There was a heavy silence between the two, no more words needing to be shared. It was cut quick however, by the sound of a heavy door being opened, and the bellowing voice from below, “Headmaster Dumbledore! Is that ye!?” As if a switch was flipped, Dumbledore turned to look at the half giant with a kind smile, “Hello Hagrid, I’ve brought visitors. One you may recognize.” Remus felt Cyra wriggle around in his tight grip, muttering a quick apology before loosening his grip, following after Dumbledore.

Hagrid’s face lit up with surprise as he saw him, “Why, Lupin! Aren’t ye a sight for sore eyes? How are ye nowadays, and who’s this lil one with ye?” He came over to them, looking down at the small child in his arm with curiosity. Cyra clung tighter to Remus, hiding her face in his shoulder. He politely smiled at Hagrid, “I’ve been well, Hagrid. This little one is shy around strangers, you must excuse her. Her name is Cyra, and she’s my charge.” He noticed Hagrid’s eyes finally catch notice of the bandages on her frail body, before he took a few thudding steps back, “Ah, I see. Well no worries! Nobody is a stranger once you get to have some tea with them! Come on in!”
He pushed the door open to the hut and shuffled himself in, waving for them to follow. Dumbledore let out a chuckle before following him in, the pair entering after. Once the sunlight left them, Remus watched Cyra lift her head once again, blinking a couple times to readjust. Hagrid grabbed a large teapot, filling it with some water before placing it above the fire, “Sit on down! Get comfortable!”

Remus let Cyra down before he followed Dumbledore to the couch, getting himself comfortable as Hagrid suggested. He looked out the corner of his eye to see Cyra still standing in the place he put her in, her eyes flicking about to every corner of the hut. Each time Hagrid would move, her gaze would lock onto him and stay there until she was satisfied. Dumbledore was observing her as well, but instead of the worried look Remus held, he was smiling. Hagrid noticed the skittishness of the small one, deciding to sit himself down in his wooden chair, it making a loud creak. Her gaze didn’t shift though, instead, something else had her attention.

Hagrid hummed, leaning to see what she was looking at, before letting out a laugh, “Ah! That’s Fang, that is! Go on ahead and pet him if ye want, he won’t bite ye!” Remus cringed at the word choice, looking over at Cyra worried as she stared down the puppy on the oversized bed.

Then without a second thought, she raced over to the puppy on the bed. Fang woke up, shaking the sleepiness out of his eyes before he launched himself at the girl, barking in excitement. It was as if they were watching a totally different girl, the soft giggles entering the air, Cyra rolling around on the floor with the puppy. Hagrid was grinning as he watched the endearing scene, “Ay, Fang can melt anyone’s heart.” Remus chuckled, watching the scene with interest, “So can Cyra.”

Everything was calm, the tension forgotten the moment the huts warmth welcomed them. Hagrid hopped up, going over to his cabinets to grab his teacups, “I recently got this little set, it’s got hippogriffs on them! Got them on discount at this little shop down in Hogsmeade.” Dumbledore folded his hands over his lap, watching the giant carefully take each fragile cup one at a time in his large hands, “Oh, well isn’t that lovely? I love a good design. I recently bought these pajamas, a lovely winter set, and it had these dancing unicorns. I of course got some socks to match, can’t have mismatched bed wear, that’s unforgivable.”

Remus began to laugh, if someone told him a month ago that he would be listening to a discussion about the Headmaster of Hogwart’s pajama preferences, he would call them crazy. Hearing footsteps approach, he turned to see Cyra approaching him with the puppy in her arms. He waited to see what she needed, but she simply stood there, her large amber eyes staring at him expectantly. He parted his lips to ask, but before he could, she was already gently nudging his hands out of his lap. Remus let her do what she wanted, watching as she struggled to climb onto the couch and hold the puppy at the same time. Finally, she did it, situating herself on his lap before she placed the puppy on hers, petting him happily. Remus sat there astonished, quietly taking the cup of tea he was given. The two other wizards simply chuckled before continuing their conversation.

It wasn’t until after their tea was gone that they realized that Cyra had fallen asleep, her head slumped against Remus’s chest, the puppy nestled in her arms. Remus listened to her soft breathing, reaching his hand up to carefully stroke her brown curls. The other men stayed quiet, Hagrid’s smile slowly falling as he caught notice of the bandages again. He knew it was none of his business, but it broke his heart to see them. Dumbledore noticed it, answering the question that resided in his head, “Fenrir.” Remus’s head shot up at the name, catching the horror as it entered Hagrid’s eyes. The Giant cleared his throat weakly, his hands shaking as he placed his teacup down, “To a w-wee thing like her?” His voice broke as he spoke, the tears beginning to form in his eyes as he imagined the horror the child must have gone through.

Remus clenched his jaw, petting Cyra’s hair delicately, “He tore her apart like she was a piece of meat. Even when she was bitten, it wasn’t enough for him. I saw it with Pomfrey. She has claw marks all over her back and abdomen. I had hoped that I could heal them all, but a werewolves marks.. they’ll never heal. He mauled her body knowing this.” Hagrid gagged, covering his mouth with a handkerchief. Dumbledore’s face was grim, staring off into the distance, “He is the true monster, though the ministry prefers to blame a child who was given no choice in the matter.”

Remus gave a silent nod, trying to keep calm by focusing on the pup in his arms. She was lucky to be alive, and he knew that, but she would be cursed with not only her infliction, but also the marks on her body for the rest of her life. He didn’t want to imagine what might happen when other’s see them, she’ll never be able to feel comfortable. He could only hope she would make great friends like he did, who didn’t believe everything was skin-deep.

After a moment, Hagrid cleared his throat, dabbing his eyes with the handkerchief, “Well, Cyra will never have to go through that again! She’ll be safe with Lupin! And she’ll always have Hogwarts as well to call a home!” Remus shakily smiled back at him, “Thank you Hagrid.” Dumbledore placed his teacup down on the table, smiling once again, “Yes, I’m sure our dear Miss Cyra will do wonderfully here at Hogwarts. When she’s of age, of course.” Remus caught that, looking at him in surprise, “Wait, pardon?” The Headmaster raised a wispy brow at him, “Hm? Did I perhaps stutter? Or did you not think that I would be offering Miss Cyra the same deal I offered you as a young boy? That shack hasn’t gone anywhere, after all.” Remus pressed his lips together, he was now the one tearing up, “T-Thank you, Headmaster.” He pulled the small girl closer to his chest, placing a kiss at the top of her head. He was worried before, but he was sure of it now, Cyra would be given the best upbringing and childhood. It was what she deserved, after all.

Dusk soon appeared outside the Hut’s windows, catching their attention. Remus gently shook Cyra as the other wizards stood up, “Cyra, it’s time for dinner.” Her eyes slowly cracked open, looking up at him sleepily, “Mm?” He chuckled, deciding to carry her instead, standing up with her in his arms, “I suppose you’ll have enough time to wake up on the walk back.” He headed towards the door before he remembered, looking down at the small girl, “Cyra, we have to let the puppy stay here.” She gave a pout, hugging Fang to her chest, him continuing to snooze in her warm embrace. Hagrid came over, holding his hands out carefully, “Aye, he’ll get a bit overwhelmed in the dining hall. Let’s let him sleep, alright lil one?” Cyra looked him up and down, before she released the puppy into his hands.

With that, they were off, heading back towards to castle. Cyra began to doze back off, her head drooping down on Remus’s shoulder. He didn’t bother to try and wake her, he knew the smell of food would wake her stomach. As they entered, Dumbledore looked as if he wanted to say something, but he quickly decided against it and instead strolled up to his head at the head’s table. Remus narrowed his eyes at the old wizard before he followed after, an extra two chairs appearing besides McGonagall’s. He placed Cyra down first, amused as she began looking around confused at her surroundings, before he took his own chair.

The other teachers soon joined them, filing into their respectful seats. Seeing his old head of house, he shot her a weak smile, “Evening, Professor.” McGonagall gave a chuckle, tucking herself into her seat, “Well hello, Mr. Lupin. You’re not a student anymore, you can call me Minerva if you wish.” Remus cringed, thinking how strange it would feel call her by her first name, but he supposed it must have been strange to still call her Professor when he’s graduated. Before he could say any more, she had already caught sight of Cyra, who was gazing around the room at all of the students filling in the hall.

“My, and who is this wee lass?” McGonagall asked, leaning a bit over the table to see her, “Is she yours?” Remus looked over at Cyra, smiling, “Yes.” He then realized what she was asking, “I mean! Yes, but I didn’t, um.. actually have her?” McGonagall gave him a knowing smile, “Well but of course you didn’t, Mr. Lupin.” Remus groaned, rubbing his face, “I mean.. I’ve adopted her.”

“That poor child.” A voice drawled from the other side of Cyra, his head whipped towards it quickly. Sitting there, was Severus Snape, who looked as if he wished to be anywhere but here. Remus narrowed his eyes at him, “Snape, I didn’t know you were a teacher here.” Snape raised a dark eyebrow at him, “I didn’t know you were qualified to care for a child, what with your..condition.” McGonagall cleared her throat, “Boys, enough. There should only be one child at this table.” They both looked away from each other, focusing on the food that magically began appearing on the table. Cyra’s eyes were wide, leaning far back in her chair. Remus placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Get whatever you want, Cyra. Do you want milk or pumpkin juice?”

She was quiet, looking around the table at all of the people, her eyes catching everything that moved. Remus furrowed his brows, watching her worried, “Cyra?” She jumped as her name was called again, looking up at him, his heart clenching as he saw the fear in her eyes. He quickly scooted his chair closer to hers, “How about we try pumpkin juice, eh? You might like it, then I’ll have to buy a gallon of it.” Cyra gave him a small smile before nodding, watching him pour the juice into her goblet. He watched her shaking hands take ahold of it, bringing it to her lips to take a sip. It took a second to process the flavors on her tongue, before she began chugging down the rest of it, only taking a few breaths. Remus gave a soft laugh, taking it once it was empty and refilling it, “Gotcha, so 2 gallons?” Cyra had a brighter smile before she began looking around the table at the food, his ears picking up the sound of her stomach growling.

Grabbing the plate with the steak, he placed one onto his plate, glancing over with a knowing look as he saw Cyra’s eyes locked onto it now. Without saying a word, he placed another down on her plate, before moving onto the next dish. Soon, he had decorated her plate with everything that was on his. He watched her tiny hands wrap around the fork, trying to get a good grip on it before she stabbed it into the steak. He tried not to laugh as she tried to lift the steak up to her mouth, but the weight of an entire steak caused it to fall down on the plate again. Finally, he took his own knife and fork, “Here, wait a moment, and let me cut this for you.” She gave a pout, sitting back and allowing him to cut it up. Remus didn’t notice the pair of eyes locked onto him, watching him as he cared for his charge.

“There you are, try again.” He teased, going back to his plate to begin eating. Cyra took a moment for her dignity before she began diving in, shoving a piece of meat into her mouth. He watched out the corner of his eye as her face lit up, he figured she would probably want meat, her infliction would cause more cravings for it after all. By the time he finished cutting his steak, he noticed hers was almost gone. Taking a bite of his, he grabbed a bread roll and plopped it onto her plate.
“My, you really have taken to the father role, Mr. Lupin.” McGonagall chimed in before politely taking a bite of her potatoes.

He ducked his head in embarrassment, “Well.. um..” He pushed around his food on his plate, listening to his Old Head laughing, “That’s not a bad thing! She’s lucky to have a father like you.” He gave a weak smile before going back to eating his food. Lucky, eh? He wouldn’t really use those words. If anything, he was lucky to have her.

Seeing her tear into the bread roll, he wondered how ravenous her appetite must be. He knew when he was younger, his father said he almost ate them out of a house. She had polite table manners at least, chewing with her mouth closed, and using utensils like she’s supposed to.

He observed the students, all of them in their own world, the older students looking much more tired and worn out. They had survived a wizarding war, he imagined they must be. He could only hope that by the time Cyra joins, it’ll feel a bit more normal. Noticing her plate was empty, he was about to fill it back up but he stopped as he noticed her reaching for a chocolate éclair. The ones closest to Snape himself, his little pup cared not as she tapped her hand on the table, reaching over the man’s arm. Said man was staring down at the girl with a raised brow, before he picked up an éclair, and placed it on her plate. Happy that she now had a sweet, she began snacking once again, and the man went back to eating.
Remus looked back down at his plate, thinking, he knew Snape wouldn’t be as kind to Cyra if he knew what she was. But perhaps it was for the best. Cyra seemed happy, lost in her own world now of chocolate. If James were to see her, he’d definitely claim that was Remus’s child, due to the addiction to the sweet dark delicacy. Finishing up his dinner, he grabbed himself some chocolate fudge. Food at Hogwarts always tasted better than anything in the world.

As he ate, he noticed McGonagall staring, as if she was curious about something. Finishing his bite, he raised a brow at her, signaling for her to speak. A little embarrassed that she got caught, she coughed and straightened her back, “So, Remus. I was wondering, what are you going to be doing for her early schooling? Will you be doing muggle or are you going to teach her at home?” He blinked, realizing that he hadn’t actually thought of that. Glancing back at the child who had chocolate now all over her face, he sighed, “I’ll..probably do it at home. When I get time after work.” She gave an understanding nod, picking up her fork before piping in, “You know.. I heard Molly Weasley has been a fantastic teacher to those boys of hers. Her son, Bill, just became prefect.”

He saw what she was doing, furrowing his brows, “Yes.. I’ve heard. 7 kids, right? I couldn’t possibly give her another to deal with.” He was waved off, “None of that Remus, you know she adores children. And your little one is so adorable, how could she refuse?” He narrowed his eyes at that, “You speak as if she’s already accepted, Minerva.” The Head of Gryffindor quickly looked away from his gaze, “Oh..well, that I would not know. That would perhaps be something to speak about with Dumbledore.” The Headmaster upon hearing his name, gave Remus a knowing smile before raising his goblet to him. The young wizard let out a sigh before turning back to his fudge, “Well then, I suppose you should have said, how could ‘I’ refuse? Eh?” All he received was a chuckle, and then the conversation was over.

Dinner was soon over, and Cyra was rubbing her stomach, her eyes beginning to droop. Remus took a napkin and gently wiped the chocolate off of her face, “Going into a food coma, are we? Will I be seeing you next week?” Cyra whined, reaching for him, her arms stretched out. He let out a chuckle before picking her up, placing her into his lap, “You’re very clingy today, is it the new environment?” The only response he got back was her nuzzling her head into his neck, and the sound of her yawn. It was probably time for bed.

He stood up and looked directly at Dumbledore, “I suppose we must be off, thank you for having us, Headmaster.” Dumbledore stood himself up, brushing off his robes, “Let me walk you back to the floo, I believe Poppy sent the potions and lists to my office.” He gave a nod, going to follow before he paused, “Oh. It was nice to see you, Minerva..Severus.” Snape’s head shot up, looking at him with narrowed eyes before turning back to watch his house. McGonagall smiled sweetly at them, “It was lovely seeing you too, lad. Bring this little one over anytime, I hope to see her in my house soon.” Remus chuckled before racing down after Dumbledore, offering Hagrid a wave before they left.
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“Everything has been shrunk down, I believe you know the charm to unshrink them, Remus.” Dumbledore chimed, handing him the shrunken suitcase. The young wizard gave a nod before slipping it into his pocket, “Thank you again, Headmaster. For everything.” Dumbledore looked at the sleeping pup in his arms, “Thank you, Remus. You’re giving her a home. That’s more than many can do.”
He felt his chest tighten as he thought about what might have happened if he didn’t take her in.

Once they were in the floo, Dumbledore gave a wave, already heading out of his office, “Oh, and Remus?”

He perked his head up, looking at him curiously. The old wizard shot him a wink, “I believe Poppy made the potions chocolate flavored, that should save our friend’s taste buds, eh?”

All he received in response was a laugh before the green flames took them away.

Chapter Text

The course of the next few days were uneventful, Remus hadn’t a chance to go to the market because he feared taking Cyra out, no reason to fear starving however. The morning after they arrived back from Hogwarts, a basket of fresh baked goods and meals were sent to their home by owl. He needn’t even read the note to know who it was from, who else would send a basket of baked delicacies just to invite a child over than Molly Weasley?

The two snacked on the baked goods for the next couple of days, Cyra given her potions before her meals and bed. They had a routine, and he would hate to break it, but there were things he needed to do. Like buying groceries, clothes for Cyra, or even just going to work. He had written to his boss at the shop to notify him of the situation, and of course the explained situation was that his sister passed away, so he was caring for his niece at the moment. People lie to their bosses all the time, he was sure this was fine. What was he going to say?

‘Hey boss, I’ve taken in a child that’s become a werewolf like me. Oh yeah, you didn’t know I was a werewolf, well surprise! Promise I won’t bite!’

He was sure that would have worked splendidly. No, it’s better to just lie. But he could only stay away for so long. Cyra’s bandages have already been able to come off, the scars healing reasonably well. They’d still be there, but would instead just be like his, faint. Just a memory upon the skin. He couldn’t say much for the bite, however. That had healed fairly well, but the imprint of the teeth would be harder to explain to someone.

Cyra perked her head up, noticing him staring at her but not speaking. Hesitating for a moment, she pulled the muffin she was holding from her mouth. “Moony?” She inquired, she had recently taken to calling him by his Maruader name after finding it on one of his jumpers. His attention shot up to her eyes, as if seeing her there for the first time. His face instantly melted into a warm smile, “Ah, yes, my apologies Cyra. I was just thinking, that’s all.”

She said nothing in response, her eyes simply bearing into his, awaiting to hear these thoughts. Sitting himself down on the couch, he let out a tired sigh, “How would you feel about meeting some kids your age?” Before she could react, he continued, “I just think it might be good for you! Molly Weasley, the woman who was kind enough to make us all of this? She’s got two boys your age, twins even.” She looked away, going back to eating her muffin in silence. The older man sighed, rubbing his face, he knew himself this wasn’t a good idea. She was still recovering from everything. If he hadn’t pulled her out of it, she would have gone into a panic at the Great Hall that evening. He knew she wasn’t ready, and it wasn’t fair to ask this of her.

“What about my scratches?” She asked in a small voice. His head jerked up in response, looking over at her in surprise. He honestly didn’t expect this. Stumbling over his words, he yammered out, “W-We can give you a jumper to cover them! You don’t have to worry about that! If someone sees, you can say that you fell into a thorny bush..or something like that..” He trailed off, realizing he was now asking for her to lie as well. There was a pause, before she replied, “The one with the puppy paws?” “Yes, you can wear the one with the puppy paws.” Remus couldn’t resist a chuckle, looking back over at her with a smile. Cyra simply gave another nod before she hopped off the couch and began shuffling out of the room. “Where are you going?” He furrowed his brows in confusion, watching after her. The six year old turned her head to look at him, “Bath. I smell like dog.”

“Yes, that sadly never goes away.” He joked, stretching out his legs before getting up himself, “I’ll grab the jumper for you. Do you need any help?” He saw the brown curls on the back of her head sway as she shook her head. “Okay.” He shrugged, pressing his lips together to keep the laugh at bay as she proceeded to walk off confidently.

It wasn’t but a few moments that he heard running water, he kept his door open to his room as he searched through his closet for the jumper she wished for. Grasping the soft fabric, he paused as he heard the bathroom door creak open.
“Moony? Bubbles?” Cyra called out from the hall, her voice reaching to him in his room. Throwing the jumper onto his shoulder, he walked out to see her standing in the doorway shyly. Knowing it was better not to tease her, he stepped past her into the bathroom, reaching up into the cabinet above the sink, “My bad, Cyra, I put it up where you couldn’t find it.” He placed the bottle of pink soap beside the bathtub, figuring she’d want to control how many bubbles are in it. His only response was a gleeful smile before she was heading over to the filling tub, uncapping the bottle with her small hands.

Taking that as his cue to leave, he placed the jumper onto the sink, “I’ll shrink down some pants for you.” With that, he exited the bathroom, shutting the door carefully behind him. He was sure it was going to be a little bit, long enough that he’d be able to write Molly to tell her they would be visiting today. Heading towards his room, his ears caught the faint humming that came from the bathroom, in the tune of a song that he hadn’t ever heard before. Smiling to himself, he grabbed a piece of parchment and his quill before he began scribbling away.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Remus asked Cyra for the fifth time, her only response being a simple, “Uh huh.” Even as she was gathering books to take with her, he was behind her, looking visibly stressed, “You know you can tell me if you’re stressed. If the situation makes you uncomfortable, let me know, and I’ll take you out of it. Okay?” Cyra was silent, simply just taking his hand and stepping into the floo. Remus let out a sigh before throwing the floo powder, “The Burrow.”

Green overtook their sight, before it was replaced by a brightly lit home, the scent of baked bread entering their senses. “OH!” A shout rang out, causing Cyra to flinch and grab onto Remus’s leg. A bright red-headed woman was hustling out of the kitchen, smiling brightly at the pair, “Welcome Lupin’s! Sorry I wasn’t here, I have some sweets in the oven!” Her eyes shot instantly to the younger of the two, her smile getting wider, “Well, isn’t she just darling!”

Crouching down to her level, she held out her hand, her tone more softer, “Hello, little one, my name is Molly. What is yours?” Cyra went to speak, but Remus piped in, “U-Uh, she’s still a bit shy around strangers.” Molly caught the look Cyra gave her caretaker, “Oh, is she now?” She stood back up, placing her hands on her hips, looking at Remus with a knowing smile.

Remus cleared his throat, petting Cyra’s curls, “Yes. Also, Molly, we really appreciate the invitation, but I don’t think she’s quite ready to be socializing quite yet. I don’t want to push-“ He was silenced by the redhead’s hand, a laugh bursting from her, causing him to furrow his brows. Molly shook her head, her curls bouncing with her, “Lupin! You are always going to be more protective of your first child, so I understand. But I don’t think it’s her who has a problem with this, but you.”
The younger man gave a huff, puffing his chest in indignation, “Molly-“ Before he could finish yet another sentence, two identical red-haired boys were bounding down the stairs, “Mum-“ One began, “Is she here?” The other finished. Remus blinked at the pair, finding it difficult to tell between the two, “This must be your boys?” Molly hummed, placing her hands at the tops of their heads, “Two of the bunch of them. Boys, introduce yourselves.”

The one on the right held out his hand to Cyra, grinning boyishly, “I’m Gred.” His brother placed his arm above his, “And I’m Forge!” Cyra looked at both of their hands confused, before she placed her books down onto the floor and shook both of their hands at the same time. Remus pressed his lips together, watching her with worry in his gaze. ‘But was it really worry for her?’, the annoying voice in his head made him wonder.

“Cyra.” Her voice entered the air, so small and delicate, that it made the twin’s eyes widen. Molly felt her heart melt, looking down at the young one endearingly. Remus released the tension he was holding in his body. Cyra was fine, she can handle this, he knew this to be a fact. He hated having to leave her though. The twins shook her hands, looking a bit more bashful, “My name’s not really Gred, it’s George.” Cyra looked more confused, before glancing down at their hands, still shaking. The other twin piped in, “And I’m Fred, not Forge.”

She nodded slowly, looking at the both of them with calculating eyes, taking in every feature on their faces. They were very identical. Beauty marks all in the same spot. She supposed their scents were a bit different. George was the twin that smelled more like oranges, and Fred smelled like cherries. Taking that as enough, she finally released their hands, bending down to pick up her books.
Molly clapped her hands together, causing the young girl to jump, “Ri-“ She paused, looking at Cyra before she softened her tone once again, “Right. Well, now that everyone is acquainted. Boys, why don’t you take Cyra up to your room? I’m going to speak to Lupin for a moment.” Remus’s eyes widened, ‘To their room??’ Was that something that was supposed to happen? He understood they were kids, but should that really happen? Before he could object, Cyra’s arms were looped by the twins and she was hauled up the stairs.

Turning his head quickly to Molly, he piped up, “Molly, I know that they are your boys, but should they be alone? I mean, they’re kids bu-“ “Enough Lupin, that’s just it, they’re kids! If they were 15, I might have worried, but these are children. I’ve already made the boys put away their dungbombs.” His eyes widened in worry, “Their-“ Molly turned away, heading off into the kitchen, “Come with me! I have some things I’ve written down for you!” He stared after her confused, were they just going to ignore what she just said? Why did kids have dungbombs?

Following after her, he was presented with a parchment list, “What..?” He scanned over it, “What is the Blossom Shop?” He looked up confused at her. She simply smiled, “It’s a muggle shop in London, they have children’s clothes. You cannot keep dressing that child in band t-shirts and your jumpers. I also put down what type of knickers to buy her.” Remus stared at the list in horror, though it was disrupted by a tap on his arm, “Now Lupin, don’t act like I’m asking you to get the poor thing a training bra! She needs knicker-“ Remus jumped back, “Ah! Ah! Stop saying that, Molly, there are children!”

Molly sighed, unamused, “Honestly, Arthur wasn’t even this bad with Ginevra..” Looking at the wizard more sternly, she put on her mom tone, “Remus Lupin, you have to get that girl some proper clothes! Suck up your pride, and you go buy that girl some skirts and knickers!” He flinched again, but this time didn’t fight back, instead looking down in shame. “Alright,” He resigned, “I’ll go buy her some..knickers.” That cheered the woman up instantly, “Great!” She pointed at the next thing on the list, “There are also some bathroom stuff for kids, muggles have these shampoos and conditioners that are tear-free, so it won’t hurt if it gets in her eyes.” He began to look impressed, “Wow..Molly, this is very detailed.”

She simply shrugged, “After 7 kids, you learn, very quickly.” The witch then turned away, going to check on what was in the oven. Remus pocketed the list, straightening out his jumper before going to head out. “Oh! And Lupin?” Her voice called him back, causing him to freeze, “Parenthood is hard, but you’re doing a great job with her.” He felt his heart stop as he saw the motherly smile she had, he was never close with her in school, but now he wish he had been. She was truly a very caring witch. “Thank you.” He choked out, before he quickly flooed out. The sooner he finished everything, the sooner he could be back with his pup.

Meanwhile, Cyra was on a rollercoaster of emotions. She knew she had to handle this, Moony had things to do, and she was getting in the way. However, she didn’t know if her brain could handle much more of the twins. They both spoke a mile a minute, throwing topics out into the air, and making it more confusing by finishing each other’s sentences. She didn’t even know who was talking anymore! Clutching her books to her chest, her eyes kept darting between the two, trying to keep up. The twin named Fred seemed to be leading most of the conversation, coming up with new ideas. George however, would be adding in details to make it more entertaining.

To make matters worse, despite having two beds, they both decided to sit at both sides of her. They were speaking to her, she was sure of that, but she didn’t know what! It was all too much. As if just noticing her distress, George paused, staring at her curiously, “Are we being rude?” Huh? It was quiet for the first time. Cyra blinked in confusion, turning to look at him, “Huh?” He offered a small smile, “We’re talking all at you, we’re being rude, aren’t we? We didn’t even give you a chance to speak.” His brother leaned against her shoulder, giving her a cheeky grin, “Sorry about that, mum tells us off all the time about it! You’re pretty nice not to though, most would get sick of it already!” She was. But she didn’t say that. They both looked at her expectantly, making her wish they were speaking again.

Swallowing, she stuttered out, “Y-Yes..it was rude.” They didn’t get mad, instead they both shared a laugh before leaning closer to her, “Our apologies, Miss Cyra.” One began, “Yeah! That’s no way to treat a lady!” The other finished. She tried to look at both of them, but her neck was beginning to hurt from swiveling left and right. Letting out a sigh, she replied, “It’s okay. It’s just a bit much.” She received an understanding nod from them both, before George reached down and took the book she was hugging to her chest, “Do you want to read instead? Would that be a bit quieter?” He watched as her eyes lit up, the honey colored irises becoming brighter before she flashed him a smile, “Yes!”

This being the first time she smiled since they entered their room, the twins were in awe. Quickly, Fred hopped off the bed and went over to a stack of books on the ground, “Mum gave us some books to study on Hogwarts, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. They’re Percy’s old books. Wanna try them?” He held up a copy of ‘Hogwarts a History’, one that caught Cyra’s interest. Hogwarts, was that the place they visited a couple of days ago? She remembered it seeming so magical, and that was enough for her. Giving him a quick nod, she pointed at the book he was holding, “That one!” Fred looked at it before glancing back at the excited girl, it seemed to make her happy so why not?

Taking his place back at her side, he leaned back against the headboard, “Here you are.” He placed it in her lap, enjoying how her eyes lit up as she stared at the hardcover. George leaned back with him, giving him a grin before turning to Cyra, “Could you read it out loud to us? It’ll be a bit difficult for us all to read it at once.”

She hesitated for a moment, staring down at the book in her hands. It was very nice of them to let her read their books. “Okay..but.” Cyra decided to look at George, “I can stop if my throat hurts?” He shared a look with Fred behind her before he looked back at her, talking softer, “Yeah..yeah you can.” With that, she leaned back with them, opening up the book to the first chapter, “In the tenth century, the four greatest witches and wizards of the same age shared a dream-“

Molly soon came upstairs, being sure not to alert the three of her presence by avoiding the creaky steps. Despite what she said to Lupin, she did worry about the twins. They tended to bully their younger brother; the poor thing was already traumatized by the last incident. But by the time she reached their room, her worries were washed away by the sound of the little girl’s voice reciting from the book. Peering in from the corner, she saw the twins had her settled between them, their eyes beginning to droop shut.

She almost jumped out of her skin when Cyra’s eyes locked onto her in a flash, her eyes shining in the sunlight. Molly offered her a smile before she put her finger in a shushing manner, signaling not to say a word. Cyra blinked at her before turning back to turn the next page, “Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem was a magical artefact that was bewitched to enhance the wearer's wisdom.” She quickly sneaked away, her heart pounding in her chest from her little scare. Children had such good hearing.

Remus had finally finished all of his shopping, the women at the children’s store seemed to pity him and assisted him in finding everything for Cyra. Paying with the money he had transferred from Gringott’s, he headed out with some large bags that he would shrink once he was away from muggle eyes. He had already put away all of the groceries, now all he had left was to drop off the stuff for Cyra, and then he could floo back to get her.
During the time he had been out, his thoughts were infested with Cyra, he needed to know if she was okay. He had thought of just flooing over once just for a quick check in, but he was sure Molly would have teased him relentlessly for that.

So he did what he had to do, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t run straight to the floo. When the burrow greeted him, he was disappointed to see it was only Molly, holding her youngest ones.

She shot him a smug smile, “Ah Lupin, I expected to see you much sooner. I thought you would have given in and come to get her after just an hour.” That was exactly why he didn’t. Looking around the burrow, he raised a brow, “Where is Cyra?” He felt something sink when he saw the cunning smile on her face. It was then he realized, she wasn’t smug for no reason. Something happened. Looking towards the stairs, he raced off before she could stop him. She was held down by the two babes on her lap, she couldn’t.

When he finally reached the room with the open door, he froze, staring at the scene before him in total shock. Cyra was curled up between the two boys, both of their arms wrapped tightly around her, the children all fast asleep with a book lying abandoned on the floor. He didn’t know what to feel, a part of him wanted to pry the boys hands off of her. But he also felt happy, she was showing trust to someone that wasn’t him. That thought brought some pain to his heart, he ignored it. This was good. The twins were good for her. He knew that now.

“So when can we expect some wedding bells?” Molly whispered from behind him. The smile on his face fell instantly. Never mind whatever just went through his head. The twins were not good for her.

Chapter Text

Broken screams cut through the night, drowning out Lupin’s own. Through his blurred vision, he could see the small figure contorting on the ground, clawing at the wood as if she could escape from the pain. He wished to hold her, to whisper comforting words in her hair, protecting her from the nightmare she would become. He had seen it coming before she did. The moon approaching caused her to sour, throwing tantrums left and right. She was agitated, the wolf clawing from within her to get out. He couldn’t blame her, instead he chose to power through the clothes and books being thrown, the silent treatment. It was the least he could do, to hopefully help her appease some of her indirect anger. As his vision began to darken, he felt panic before everything went numb.

Waking that next morning was rough beyond belief, the sunshine streaming in through the cabin’s windows and landing on his eyes. Squinting, he rolled off of his back, ignoring his body’s aching protests. Scanning the room, he took note of the destroyed furniture, cotton strewed among the floor. But no blood, he thanked to merlin, there was no blood. But there was no girl either.

Pushing himself up on his forearms, he looked around the room once more, taking in the claw marks on the walls. Moony wouldn’t do this, he had known his wolf enough that while he was violent, he had long grown out of petty destruction. No, he instead craved flesh. Swallowing thickly, he snatched up his wand that had rolled under the couch and accioed his houserobe, quickly covering his bare body. Now on his feet, he began tip-toeing, following a trail of cotton and fabric. As he entered the kitchen, he noticed the mauled carcass of his favorite throw pillow. Sighing, he continued down the path, finally stumbling upon the small curled up figure in a nest of cotton and feathers.

A breath of relief came from his chest, hurrying over to the closet in the hallway for the spare blanket. Reaching down, he wrapped the child into the fabric, before lifting her up into his arms. She was still fast asleep, and he figured she would probably rest for most of the day. Taking her into her room, he made sure she was properly dressed and tucked into her bed, before he went to deal with the crime scene she left behind.

It wasn’t until almost lunchtime that she came out, shuffling quietly into the now clean house with her duvet wrapped around her. He watched in amusement as it dragged behind her, putting away his book when she stopped before him, “How are you feeling?” He watched as her face scrunched up in response to his question, as if willing herself not to cry. “Hurt.” She whispered back, before she crawled into his lap, hugging him tightly.

He simply held her, rubbing her back through the duvet, “I know dear, I know. I’m so sorry.” Remus sighed as he felt her tremble in his arms, the front of his shirt beginning to feel wet. He simply let her cry it out that morning, a few tears of his own escaping.

It took a few days before Cyra felt okay again for another playdate, during that time Remus made sure she was well fed and rested. He answered the questions she had, explaining the process in the best way he could. She seemed to understand, and he watched as she began to grasp her new senses. Now that she had fully transformed, it came a bit easier for her. He loved watching her zone out during breakfast as she listened to the birds singing outside, or when her head would perk up at some critter running around the forest. The hardest part was hiding sweets from her, he had bought some chocolate to cheer her up after the full moon, and she had already sniffed it out before he could finish his shower.

Dumbledore had come over to visit, bringing over a couple of toys for her that Professor McGonagall had apparently bought. She seemed pretty intrigued with the pretend potions kit before she laid eyes on the unicorn doll, now it was the one thing she would carry around nonstop. Bingles, she had named it, Bingles the Unicorn. Bingles would eat with them at the table, and would even go for bath time.

He was thankful Bingles had some charms on him to prevent him from getting dirty, though he was sure nothing could protect him from his mane being ripped out as Cyra brushed his hair every day with a plastic comb. It was nice to see her act like a normal child, he couldn’t help but wonder if these moments of happiness were what his parents experienced. They always pushed everything normal onto him, as if a distraction from what was really going on. Now he could understand. She needed this, to have something to cling to and remind her that she is still human. He needed that.

When it came time for the playdate, she seemed to insist that Bingles would be sad if she left him at home, so she carried him with her into the floo. He couldn’t find it in him to argue, following after her with a handful of floo powder. When they arrived, Cyra clung tightly to the stuffed unicorn, taking in the different smells and sounds. Remus allowed her a moment to adjust before announcing their arrival, “Mrs. Weasley?” There was a loud thud upstairs before the two identical boys came running down the stairs, laughter bubbling from them. “FRED GIDEON WEASLEY! GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY! YOU GET BACK HERE AND YOU APOLOGIZE TO YOUR BROTHER THIS INSTANT!” The booming voice of Molly Weasley came from the top of the stairs, causing both Remus and Cyra to flinch, their enhanced hearing causing their ears to throb.

Fred and George quickly ducked behind the smaller girl, giggling to themselves as their mother bounded down the stairs, a crying Ronald Weasley on her left hip, and a confused Ginny on her right. She was right furious, though it paused for the moment she saw her new visitors, “Oh Lupin dear. Cyra. Welcome in! I see my two troublemakers have found you before I.”

Remus chuckled, stepping forward, “Yes, I hope we aren’t too early, I’d hate to be trouble.” Molly plopped the crying child on the couch, before placing his sister next to him, “Nonsense! I’ll never have my hands too full!” Cyra turned her head to look at George on her left, raising a questioning brow at him. He leaned in and whispered, “We’re in a spot of trouble, you see.” His twin leaned into her other ear, “You see, Charlie left us these Zonko’s products. And we decided to try one.” Cyra nodded, looking over to the crying Ronald. |

“Ginny wanted to have a tea party with Fred, Ron, and I.”

“So we thought, what a great time to try out the nose-biting teacup we got!”

“It was a bit of a gamble.”

“But it seems Ronny-kins was the loser.”

Cyra zeroed in on the red bite mark on the younger one’s nose, her lips quirking up as she tried to restrain a giggle.

Remus glanced over at her, zoning out Molly’s shouts of ‘horrid sons’, taking notice of the small smile that had formed. He had always wondered if a child raised by a Marauder would be just as mischievous, it seemed he got his answer.

Chapter Text

Music echoed in the halls as it blared from the speakers on the radio cassette, it slightly shaking from the edge of fridge it was set upon. Cyra sat at the counter, a book in her hands, but her focus was on her guardian who was dancing as he cooked. Remus nodded his head along to the beat of the music, whisking the eggs together in the metal bowl before throwing in a bit of salt. As the song faded out, he glanced over at his charge, seeing her watching him like a hawk, “What?”

“And that was Starship’s ‘We Built This City’! From the new hit album, ‘Knee Deep in the Hoopla’! We’re going to take a small break and then we’ll be back with the group that is performing live in Rio tomorrow night, Queen!”

Cyra glanced down at the band tee she was wearing, trying to pull it over her head to read it. She could make out a few letters, but it was hard to read upside down. Remus pushed her hands back down, answering her question, “Yes, that’s the band on your shirt. Well..it was my shirt. But now it’s yours.” He went back to cooking, pouring the eggs into the hot pan. Cyra reached over and picked back up her unicorn, hugging him to her chest, “You like it?”

Remus was confused at the question, glancing over at her so she could explain, but instead she just pointed at the radio. It took a moment before he understood, “Oh, the music? Yeah! Muggles really have the best style, in my opinion. You just don’t hear that in the wizarding world.” Cyra nodded along, though she didn’t really understand what he was talking about.

“I mean, you should have seen James when he learned that there was good music. He went absolutely wild! Not to mention Sirius, he began dressing like a rocker, said he was going to learn guitar and make a band with us.”

Cyra got more confused, she had never heard these names before. But Remus looked happy, so she didn’t really want to stop him. He continued on for a bit, the next song playing in the background, but he seemed to pay it no mind. Cyra began to enjoy the sound of the drumming and guitars, especially as Remus’s tales grew more and more detailed. It was like a secret side of him that she didn’t know yet.

“Oh! And you should have seen Sirius! Lily got a right laugh out of his attempt at eyeliner, he did eventually get better though! I caught them doing lessons on makeup. He tried to put it on me next, I refused, but Sirius was always good at convincing me into things. Even when I was so very upset with him, he could still find a way to make me laugh and forget I was even angry in the first place. Honestly though, that’s why I lov-“

Then it stopped. The music was still fading out, but Cyra felt as if everything was frozen still. Remus had ceased all movement, as if someone stupefied him. She began to grow worried, hugging Bingles closer to her chest.

“Moony?” She called out.

Smoke was beginning to come from the pan, the smell of burnt eggs reeking into the air they were breathing. The 6 year old hopped down from her stool, hurrying over to her guardian and tugging on his pants, “Remus!” As if he was snapped out of it, he jerked, his head quickly dropping to look down at her. His face was pale, as if he had just seen a ghost, his hands trembling as they dropped the spatula in his hand.

Cyra wrapped her arms around his leg, “It’s okay.” She didn’t even know what she was comforting him for, but her Moony was scared, so she’d help him feel better. She reached up as far as she could to give him pats on his lower back, repeating, “It’s okay.” It took him a few moment to understand what was happening before he quickly bent down to her, forcing a smile onto his face, “Thank you Cyra. I was very scared.” He felt his heart clench as she stared at him with wide eyes, “Not anymore?”

“No. Not anymore.”

She seemed pleased by that, smiling back at him. Remus tried to ignore the lingering thoughts he had, standing back up and sniffling back the tears that tried to escape. Something was burning. He finally caught notice of the eggs and moved them off the stove, “Oh no!” It was too late, they were already burnt to a crisp.

Sighing, he glanced back down at the child, “Those were the last of the eggs..seems we may not have those sandwiches tonight.” He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t look disappointed, her little feet hurrying over to grab the Chinese takeout menu from the basket. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Remus to mess up the cooking.

Grabbing the landline, he chuckled as he took the menu that was shoved in his direction, “Alright, what do you want?”

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

There it was again, that infernal sound. Glancing over from his work schedule, he saw Cyra clawing at her legs through her pajama pants. He cleared his throat pointedly, causing her to stop immediately. But within 5 minutes, she was back at it again.
She had been doing this for a week now, and he just didn’t understand. Was it a tick? Did she have fleas? He was joking around with that last one, but Cyra was definitely having at her skin like she had something. That morning, he had to give her two band aids cause she managed to break the skin.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Finally having enough, he placed his book down on the table, “Okay, let me see your legs.” Cyra looked at him confused, still clawing at them through the fabric. Heading over, he carefully took her leg and pushed up the pantleg to her knee, gasping as he saw the mess. Scratch marks all over, as he had already expected. But underneath them and the bandaids was an inflamed rash. It was as if the child had gotten into poison ivy.

Cyra looked uncomfortable, reaching up to scratch her arm next, but she was stopped by his hand. Remus looked at her worried, “Is it like this there too?” Cyra nodded, her face scrunching up with discomfort, fighting a little against his hand so she could claw at the area. Remus had no idea what to do, what if she had some kind of disease? Like Dragon Pox!? He released Cyra’s hands to hurry into the kitchen, tearing open a drawer and grabbing the mittens. Before Cyra could scar herself more, they were forced onto her hands. He added a charm to stick them on so she would be unable to remove them.

Quickly, he penned a letter to Madam Pomfrey, explaining what was going on and begging for help. The owl was sent off in a flash. Cyra began to furiously rub at her skin with the mitts, getting frustrated as she couldn’t scratch.

Remus almost bulldozed through Dumbledore as he ran out of the floo, carrying the child in his arms. Albus was alarmed by his old student’s panic, but quickly calmed himself, before motioning for him to follow. The relief that Remus felt when they arrived was nothing short of a miracle. Madam Pomfrey whisked the itchy child away into the curtains and immediately began. He was soon returned the mittens on a tray, quietly taking them and avoiding the Headmaster’s amused stare.

By the time Pomfrey arrived, he was shaken, worry etched on every feature of his face. She looked at him pitifully, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Dear, please calm yourself. She is fine.” He felt the weight fall off of his shoulders, dropping back into his seat with a sigh of immense relief.

“What is it then?” He inquired.

The Nurse raised a brow at him before whipping out a chart, “What have you been using for her bathtime and for washing her clothes?” Remus’s eyes grew wide as he tried to think, “Uhh..” He felt Dumbledore’s stare and began to sweat, “I don’t know? I got her this bubble bath that smells like bubblegum? And I just wash her clothes in the same stuff I use?” Obviously that was the answer she was looking for as she gave a sharp nod.

“Right, that explains it then.”

He watched her scribble in her chart, waiting. When the rest didn’t come, he cleared his throat, smiling weakly when she finally glanced back up at him, “Sorry. But, what is it?” Pomfrey ripped out the paper on her chart, “Cyra has Atopic Dermatitis. Otherwise known as Eczema. Her skin is very sensitive.”

He nodded along, trying to grasp what she was talking about, taking the paper as it was held out to him. The nurse continued, “I’ve already applied a topical potion for her flare-ups, she’s sitting now in a bath of lavender to help soothe the rest of her skin.” Remus read over the list of do’s and don’ts she gave him, “So..no hot water, perfumes, tight clothing, scented lotions or washes?”

He was given a quick nod before she continued, “I’ve also written down the natural herbs she can use. Lavender in baths and salves are always very comforting. Not to mention, it would make bedtime much easier. It’s a muggle plant, but very helpful. We also have some bath oils that use moonroot, it helps with itching and irritation.” The young man continued to nod along, though he was beginning to get a bit overwhelmed. She didn’t seem to notice, pointing at the next thing on the list, “I don’t know much about the muggle world, but I’ve heard they have washing liquids for clothes that are made for ones with sensitive skin.”

The Headmaster finally stepped in, “I believe that’s enough, Poppy. Allow the poor man to breathe.” She finally stepped back, going to go check on her little patient. Remus stared at the list in his hands in confusion, but there was some guilt building inside. He had been doing everything wrong, causing her to suffer for so long and scar her skin moreso than before. He should have paid more attention, he knew she had been itchy for a week now.

“Remus.”

He was dragged out of his thoughts by the elder wizard’s voice, looking over to him quickly, “Y-Yes?” He was shaken, clutching to the paper with tight hands. Dumbledore gave him a knowing smile, “You’re not a bad guardian, Remus. You didn’t know. And it’s very hard for a child to communicate what is wrong at this age.” The younger wizard simply let out a sigh, looking over to where his charge was kept, “I just..I thought I was finally getting the hang of this? And now I’ve found out that I haven’t.”

A laugh was his reply, the old man somehow finding humor in his guilt, “It takes a village, Remus! Like I said before! You are doing wonderfully with her, do not allow a stumble to stop you in this. You are the best person for Cyra, she’s already built so much trust in you. That’s not easy, my boy.”

He couldn’t help but feel a bit better hearing those words, though he felt no better than when the little girl came bounding from the curtain, her curls bouncing with each step. Pomfrey shouted for her to stop, but she was on the go, racing towards her Moony. When he was hit with the force of a 6 year old girl, he stumbled to get his balance, a laugh breaking out.

“I’m not itchy anymore Moony!” She declared, hugging him tightly, her hair still dripping wet and leaving a huge wet stain on his pantleg. He didn’t care though, patting her head with a smile, “I’m glad love.”

Chapter Text

Today was a very nerve-wracking but exciting day for Remus, the sun had barely risen as he began his preparations. Not even the Full Moon nearing next week could falter him in his steps. No, it was a good day indeed. Special, even.  So special that he had woken himself up early to make chocolate chip pancakes, allowing himself an allotted time slot in case any got burned.

By the time Cyra had woken, the table was decked out with food, and Remus was nearly bursting from the seams when he noticed her entering. He allowed her a moment to wipe the sleep from her eyes before he spoke, “Happy Birthday, Cyra.” The wizard was pleased at the tired smile that formed on the child’s face, before he quickly guided her over to the table.

She hadn’t even woken up fully, her eyes only half open as she began munching on the bacon that was set on her plate.  Remus reached over the table and carefully cut up her pancakes for her, “I hope you slept well. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

He received a muffled sound of affirmation, much to his amusement. Nudging the syrup closer to her, he watched as the bottle was uncapped and globs of sugary liquid was poured onto her food. He didn’t stop her, choosing to go ahead and begin eating his own.

After breakfast was finished, and the little pup was finally awake, they began going over the plans for the day. “Molly has offered to host your party at the Burrow, so we’ll need to be there at around 3pm.” Remus began, whisking out his wand and giving it a flick to send the dirty dishes to the sink, “You and I will be heading into London to not only get your cake, but anything you might want, as you are the birthday girl.”

Cyra’s head perked up at that, her eyes wide with astonishment, “Anything I want?” Remus shot her a smile before clarifying, “Within reason, of course.” She quickly shoved out her hands, waving them at him, “Nails! Like Tonks!” He definitely wasn’t expecting that, and now the wizard had to rack his brain to remember what was so special about the 13 year old’s nails. He knew Cyra took an instant liking to the young witch from their times at the Burrow.

Nymphadora was very much like her cousin, who he shalt not name, very into the more punk fashion. Often using her metamorphmagus talent to change her hair into spiky pink locks, or to change her natural nails to always look like she had nail polish on, typically sporting black. That was it! Proud of his accomplishment, he looked back at his charge, “You wish to have black nails like Nymphadora?”

Cyra nearly bounced out of her chair, waving her hands again in excitement. Who was he to refuse such a cute display? Giving her a nod in response, he stood up, cracking his back, “Alright, time to get dressed then. Let’s get a move on, pup.” Before he could finish stretching, she was already bolting out, her bedroom door slamming open with a thud. Chuckling to himself, he went off to his own room, though with much calmer stride.

The weather couldn’t have been described with anything more than beautiful, the pair walking around Surrey so they blended in with the muggles. Remus didn’t even need to ask what flavor of cake Cyra wanted hers to be, he knew the answer instantly. Chocolate. As much chocolate as that poor baker in the shop could manage.

He didn’t wish to rush though, wanting to allow Cyra to enjoy her outing with him.  She didn’t often leave the cabin unless they were running an errand, or she was off to the Burrow. He had to remind her about Muggles however, wanting to make sure she knew not to speak of magic in front of them. She seemed to understand, though he would never underestimate his pup.

She was very intelligent for her age, already capable of reading even difficult sentences in books. Molly had spoken to him about having to advance Cyra’s lessons to a year above where the twins were, though they would never tell the children, since it could cause some disconnection among the trio.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he felt her pace suddenly stop, quickly glancing down to be sure she was okay. Cyra paid no mind to him however, her attention drawn to the playground full of children. He could see the yearning in her expression as she watched some kids push each other on the swing sets.

Clearing his throat, he crouched down to her level, causing her to shift her attention back to him. Before she could speak up, he shot her a smile, “How about you play with them for a bit? I can rest on a bench; my feet were getting tired anyway.” They weren’t, but he wanted her to feel free to go off and have some fun. The lie was worth it too, when all he was given was a quick nod before she was eagerly running towards the playground.

Standing back up, he strode over to an empty park bench that had some shade. Relaxing against the wood, he let out a content sigh as he watched his pup approach a group of girls her age.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” One of the girls had asked, playing with the braids that hung from her head. Cyra instantly felt intimidated as all of their eyes set on her, taking a step back for a moment before she placed out her hand, “I’m Cyra, I’m si- seven!” Today was her birthday, she seemed to have to remind herself.

The one who had spoken took her hand, shaking it, “I’m Peggy Clivesdale. I’m seven.” The chorus of girls introducing themselves soon followed, names that Cyra couldn’t possibly remember them all. Peggy stepped away, motioning out to a little sandcastle they were building in the box, “We were just playing pretend! I’m a pretty princess.” She flicked a braid behind her at that statement, “Maggie is playing a witch, and Kayla is going to be my knight.” The smaller girl piped in, “A-Actually, I wanted to be a Werewolf.”

Cyra felt her stomach drop at that statement, looking at Kayla with wide eyes. Peggy stomped her foot with a huff, turning to Kayla, “No! I told you that you’re going to be a Knight! Werewolves are too scary! And we already have the Witch to be our monster!” Those words caused Cyra to take another step back, hanging her head as she listened to the girl’s argue. Maggie seemed to have something to say, piping in with her posh accent, “My mum let me and brother watch The Howling, it wasn’t that scary.”

No argument seemed to sway Peggy, as she continued in her tirade that Werewolves were ugly monsters, and they would not be playing any. No one seemed to notice as Cyra excused herself, her feet taking her far away from whatever that was. Muggles were very rude, she reasoned. Sure, she knew that Wizards weren’t very nice to Werewolves, but to even call a witch a monster? Ridiculous.

As she hurried off, she didn’t realize what direction she was actually heading in. It wasn’t until she came upon a small boy that she realized she had reached the forest part of the park. He seemed to be alone, playing with the twigs in the dirt. She glanced around for some adult that must have been watching him, but found none.

Without a word, she sat herself down next to him on the grass, causing him to jump at her sudden appearance. Giving him a polite smile, she reached out her hand, “Hello, I’m Cyra, I’m seven.” He seemed to hesitate before he took it with his dirt covered palm, “I-I’m Harry and I’m five.” She didn’t seem to mind her hand being dirtied, giving him a firm shake before releasing him. Then, there was silence.

She didn’t know if she preferred this, but she knew it was better than the girls from before. Harry pushed around the dirt with the stick he had, refusing to make eye contact with her. Cyra decided to snatch up a stick of her own, beginning to draw in the dirt next to him. Finally, he spoke up, “Do you live here?” She glanced over to him to see he was still hiding his face, before she responded, “No, Moony and I are visiting. It’s my birthday today.”

“Oh. Happy Birthday.”

She felt a little smile form at his words, “Thank you.”

“Is Moony your Mummy?”

Cyra paused at the question, deciding to play around in the dirt for a bit, “No..” She gave another pause, “Moony is a boy. He takes care of me.”

“So is he your daddy?”

“No, well, I mean I guess so? My mummy and daddy are gone now.” Cyra honestly didn’t know how to answer that question. Was Moony her new daddy? He never asked her to call him it, and he didn’t seem to care that she didn’t. But he did do everything her parents used to.

“Mine too. I live with my aunt and uncle.” Harry finally had looked up at her, his green eyes peering into her soul, “You miss them?”

Cyra felt the words leave her before she could even think, “Yes.” She quickly looked back down, “Do you miss yours?”

He seemed to shrug it off, picking up some leaves on his side, “I dunno, I never met them. I wish I had a mummy and daddy though.”

Cyra didn’t know what to say at that, she didn’t want Harry to be sad, so she instead reached over and gave him a hug. She felt him stiffen in her arms, it took a bit but he eventually relaxed again. Pulling away, she quickly wiped her hands on the grass before she took off her backpack, “I know what will cheer you up!”

The boy watched as she dug through the backpack, before his eyes widened at the sight of a fluffy unicorn appearing. Cyra held him out like her pride and joy, “This is Bingles! He’s super soft and makes me feel better when I’m sad!” She then plopped the unicorn in his lap, “Give him a hug! You’ll see!” Harry stared at the doll in wonder before he gathered it up in his arms and hugged it closely. He suddenly felt all warm inside, like Bingles was giving him a hug back.

Seeing the smile from the boy, Cyra felt oddly proud of herself. Without another thought, she said, “You can have him if you want.” His head swiveled quickly to her, his eyes wide, “R-Really? But he’s your toy!” She didn’t seem upset, but he knew better than to touch other’s toys, Dudley’s especially. Cyra just smiled at him, “Yeah! You seem to need him more. You can have him if you promise to be my friend!”

She then held out her pinky to him, waiting, and it didn’t take long before he sealed the promise with his own. They then went back to playing, though both were chatting amicably now. Remus soon stumbled upon them, oddly confused as to why some boy had the unicorn she treasured.

“Cyra?” The calling of her name quickly caught her attention, pushing herself off of the ground as she saw who it was. Cyra brushed off her pants, smiling brightly at Remus, “Hello Moony! I was playing with my new friend!” He gave a nod, “I see, and who is your fr-“ Everything stopped once the little boy turned to look at him, the ghosts of his friends lingering so vividly in his features. It couldn’t have been though. He didn’t know where Dumbledore had taken him, but surely it wasn’t so close?

Cyra feeling uncomfortable with the silence piped up, “This is Harry! He’s five, but he’s kinda shy.” Remus felt his heart break as Harry managed to muster out, “H-Hi.” This shouldn’t be happening. Where was his guardians? Why was he out in the open where anyone could snatch him up, or hurt him? Realizing that he probably seemed strange, he forced himself to give Harry a smile, “Hello Harry, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Remus Lupin.”

The boy was staring, as if he could recognize him. That was silly though, he was only a year old the last time he had seen him. Cyra grasped onto his coat and tugged it, stealing his attention, “Can I come back and play with Harry again? Please Moony?” They shouldn’t. Dumbledore hid him for a reason. What would he say if he found out?

“Yes, of course.” The words tumbled out, as if he was imperioed to say them. It was what he had wanted though. Glancing back over to the small child on the grass, he knew he couldn’t say no. Knew he couldn’t pass up a chance to see James and Lily’s child. Cyra seemed happy, going back over to hug Harry again before she whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was, it made Harry’s eyes fill with wonder.

Remus took her hand, nodding his head to Harry, “Be safe getting home, young man.” Harry hugged the unicorn close to his chest with a bright smile, “Yes sir!” With that, they were off. Cyra without a doll, and Remus with so many questions.

The party was a smashing success, if you considered not being set completely on fire a success.  The Twins seemed to have decided that her birthday needed to be bigger than their mother had planned. This being the twins, however, bigger obviously meant fireworks. Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks to be exact. How they managed to get hold of these, Remus preferred not to know.

But Cyra seemed to enjoy herself, joyful giggles coming from her place behind the couch as the adults tried to avoid the many explosions. Molly however, was not pleased. And she definitely showed it once she got her hands on the troublesome two.

By the time for cake and presents, Cyra was having the time of her life, her face covered in chocolate. No matter how many times he tried to wipe it. She had spent the first hour of her party showing off her black nails to whoever was willing to see. Remus was now very skilled in painting nails, the bottle of polish now sitting in his satchel.

She had received quite a lot of presents as well, though her obvious favorites were the whole stack of candy that Nymphadora sent her, the very warm sweater that Molly had knitted her, and the fluffy black dog plush that Dumbledore had sent her. It gave him a bit of panic to think that perhaps the elder wizard knew that she had given her favorite plush to Harry. But he hadn’t said a word to him about it during the party, and nothing seemed to be up. Cyra adored it though, hugging it to her chest and announcing loudly that, “His name will be Snuffles!”

These naming conventions, do they ever get better, he wondered. Apparently Snuffles had a secret too, charmed to not give off warmth when hugged, but also to release a relaxing scent as well. It was brilliant. For any other child, it would be assumed that this would assist in calming them down.  But for a child like Cyra, it would be a huge help of providing her a sense of comfort when she gets stressed out.

McGonagall had given her many dresses, all charmed to fit her when she places them on. Surprisingly, though he did not attend, Snape had even sent a present to her. A whole box of macaroons, as well as a potion to assist her if she got a stomach ache.

In the note, it truly read as if the man himself was speaking, ‘Do not eat them all at once. Considering you are a child however; those words will have no meaning to you. I have prepared a solution to save Lupin’s flooring in the case that you decide to not heed my warning. Drink it.’

As he predicted, Cyra tossed the note and proceeded to shove two macaroons into her mouth. He did have to take away the box, however. His floorboards being ruined was one thing, the Weasley’s who had so graciously hosted this party was another.

The present he did not like, not one bit, was the twins. No, not the fireworks. That was apparently just the show. The real present was both of them getting down on one knee and promising to marry her. Everyone was so amused, Remus was not. They even had managed to get a candy ring, for merlin’s sake! And before he could speak his disapproval, Cyra had accepted it, allowing them to slip the ring onto her hand as her guardian lost his mind in the background.

“Well then, I look forward to a triad marriage in the future, Remus.” Dumbledore jested, seeming to find great amusement in his suffering. He even decided to poke the bear one more time, “Cyra really does not do things simply. Most people take one groom, she’s taken two! Very impressive.” Remus really did not like those twins, not one bit.

Chapter Text

She was upset, he could understand that. The full moon always brought out the worst of him as well, though he’s had experience to control it over the years. She was dealing with it now, and he couldn’t judge her for it. Especially when right after a tantrum, she’d come back and apologize. He didn’t let it bother him.

What did, however, was seeing her mope around the cabin. Her birthday was just last week, and it was a grand time, proposals aside. But sadly, the joy had to end when she couldn’t go back to the Weasley’s until after the cycle was done. He didn’t want to risk her snapping on the boys, or worse, having a sudden magical outburst. She hadn’t had any accidents yet, and it did begin to worry him, though he assured himself that perhaps she’s just a late bloomer.

But that was beside the point, his charge was depressed, and he would not listen to another sigh from the child. Snatching up his satchel, he stomped his way over to the pouting child, “Alright, grab Snuffles, we’re going to get you some sweets.” There it was, the magic word. He saw the light enter her eyes before she snatched up that poor stuffed dog and ran over to the floo.

Sugarplum's Sweets Shop was a very large emporium dedicated to the sweet tooths in Diagon Alley. And it just so happened to be Cyra’s new favorite place. Remus stood off to the side, allowing her to explore the many shelves of candies and sweets, his own bag of chocolate already filled. Snuffles was safely tucked beneath his arm. Seeing her disappear behind the aisle of magical candies, he went ahead to go and pay, patting himself on the back for a successful idea.

Cyra was in sugar heaven, taking a sample sweet and deciding if she liked it or not before filling part of her bag with it, then moving onto the next. She had to be sure to treat Moony extra nice after this, and be sure to try and not throw anymore fits. Lost in the exhilaration, she didn’t notice the presence behind her before it was too late.

“Hello there, little one.”

The voice caused her whole body to freeze, stuck in the position of reaching for the next compartment of sweets. Letting out a shaking breath, she kept her eyes pinned directly on the glass, seeing the monster that towered over her in the reflection. He was back. She was now very aware of his presence, panic sinking in as he shifted himself closer to her.

“Do you like candy, little one? I have a bunch back home.”

His hand slipped slowly over her shoulder, gently as if not to frighten her, it was too late though. Her sight became blurry with tears, her hands beginning to tremble as she remembered the claws that tore apart her flesh. They were on her again. He was going to hurt her.

“You want some? You can have as much candy as you want, if you win my little game.”

She felt the bile rise in her throat; she really didn’t want to play another game. Where was Moony? She wanted her Moony. Feeling the hand slip to her chest, she wondered if he could feel her heart pounding frantically within it. As he leaned in, she could feel his breath on her ear, the bite on her shoulder beginning to burn.

“Well? Do you want to play a game?”

Something broke, a scream tearing through her as burning white exploded from her and blew the monster far away from her body. She could hear his pained grunt, followed after by the sound of shattering glass, raining down all around her. Before she could look up, she felt arms thrown around her, the calming scent of her Moony rushing her senses.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Cyra.  I-I’m so sorry. It’s okay, I’m here. I swear.”

He was crying? She was fine though, she defeated the monster, shouldn’t he be happy? Hugging him back, she realized she was still shaking, something wet falling down her cheeks. She was crying too. Adults began surrounding them, shouting, “Stupefy!” Glancing up, she saw they were using the spell against the monster that had attacked her.

But, as the light shined on his face, she realized it wasn’t her monster at all. It was someone she had never seen before. Moony shoved her face back into his jumper before she could see more. He kept repeating apologies to her, holding her tightly to his form. She didn’t know why, he had nothing to be sorry about.

Remus could have killed the wizard, a curse on the tip of his tongue as he held his pup tightly to him. She was hyperventilating, still in shock from the situation. He couldn’t imagine how she must have been feeling. He abandoned her, he took his eyes off of her and she got hurt. His instincts screamed at him to tear the man’s throat out, but he managed to retain control. Cyra didn’t need to witness more violence, and he couldn’t bear to let her go right now.

Hearing footsteps on the broken glass, he shot his head up, pressing his pup closer to his chest. Standing before him was Mr. Roger Sugarplum, the owner. Mustering up the ability to stutter out an apology, he barely even got it out before Mr.  Sugarplum crouched down to them, his old knees shaking.

“Accidental Magic is very scary when it happens to you. Lucky for you little miss that yours protected you. Though I am ashamed that this happened in my shop.”

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a chocolate bar, before holding it out to Cyra with a kind smile. Cyra turned around in his arms, staring at the offering before she took it, muttering a quiet thanks. They watched as she slowly peeled it open with her small hands before she began nibbling on the bar, her trembling beginning to ease off.

“My shop is supposed to be a safe place for all boys and girls, and I cannot emphasize how sorry I am that this happened.” The old man’s smile had fallen, looking around at the mess around the shop. Slipping a coiling wand out of his inside pocket, he gave it a flick, the glass all hovering in the air before quickly repairing, the candy all filing themselves back into their compartments. Turning back to the pair, he held a sadness in his dark eyes.

“No apology could dare repair the damage that must have been done.” He began, “A flick of the wand can’t sort this out as easily.” Remus gave a slow nod, looking down at his charge worried, though she didn’t seem to notice as she was chomping through the candy bar. As if something struck, Mr. Sugarplum’s eyes lit back up with the childish glint that always appeared every day in the shop. Hopping up, he brushed off his striped suit.

“No, no apology could resolve this. So, I suppose a lifetime of candy ought to do.”

Remus gave another nod before it finally hit him what the man just said, scrambling up to his feet, holding Cyra in his arms, “I-I’m sorry, what? Sir, we could ne-“

“Posh! I have to take responsibility, my dear boy! Therefore, no matter how much candy this little miss desires, she’ll get it on the house!” Mr. Sugarplum decided, taking his cane and tapping it on the floor, a gesture that stated his decision was final.

Remus wasn’t sure if he was so adamant to do this because he truly felt that guilty, or if because he did not think that Cyra’s love for candy would live on forever. Most kids did grow out of it, after all. Remus knew better though. Mr. Sugarplum just signed a life debt.

Cyra had left the shop with much more sweets than Remus had planned for, though he knew that this should be enough to get them through the full moon, perhaps even after to recoup. He did make a note to make sure she doesn’t abuse this new privilege she has, he couldn’t risk Cyra becoming spoiled, like a Malfoy.

“Quite a show, Lupin. Even now, it seems trouble just seems to find you.”

The drawling voice stopped him in his tracks, “Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.” He muttered beneath his breath. As he faced the wizard, he tucked Cyra closer to his side, though he was surprised to see a mini clone of Lucius trailing behind him. Redirecting his attention back to the man, he raised a brow, “Well you’d know all about trouble, wouldn’t you Malfoy?”

The blonde’s lips quirked up in what seemed to be amusement, approaching them with slow steps, his eyes sliding down to gaze at Cyra. Feeling his stare, she raised her head, holding it up defiantly. Lucius seemed to look for something in her face, his brows furrowed, “And who is this?” Remus narrowed his eyes, his grip on the sweets bag tightening, “That is none of your business.”

His words earned him a condescending tsk, Malfoy’s lips turning up into sneer as he returned his gaze to him, “Oh? Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Draco should be calling her cousin.” He mocked him, noticing the flinch that Remus was unable to hide.

“But even so, the daughter of a blood traitor is a blood traitor nonetheless. Such a shame.”

He definitely did not sound disappointed at all. Letting out a shuddering sigh, he forced himself to hold eye contact with the pureblood, “She is not his.” Lucius responded with a snicker, shaking his head, “Oh but of course I know that. How is your little..partner? He’s away, is he? In..Azkaban?”

Remus didn’t respond, glaring at him heatedly. Lucius rose his brow in a challenge, “Done any visits lately? I’m sure he’d be delighted to see you. Perhaps you could even reminisce about the good times?” He was prodding at Remus’s nerves, toying with him as if he was prey, seeing how he could get him to potentially snap. Remus’s teeth were gritted, taking in small breaths to keep calm.

“Would you like some candy?”

The voice cut through the tension, both wizards looking down to see Cyra extending a lollipop to the small Malfoy. Lucius seemed to panic as his son took it with ease, shooting the older girl a bright smile.  “Draco.” He spoke down to him a warning tone. Draco looked up at his father quickly before his eyes widened, quickly looking back to Cyra, “I can’t thank you because you are tainted.” Remus felt almost bad for the child, he seemed to not even understand what he was saying, still speaking to Cyra with a polite tone.

Cyra gave a nod before she paused, “What?” She tilted her head, trying to decipher what the boy meant, “Tainted?” Remus didn’t say a word, watching as the Malfoy heir tried to figure out how to explain it. “It means dirty, I think.” He offered, though he didn’t seem entirely sure in himself.

Cyra responded by scrunching up her nose in distaste, something Remus knew as a sign that she was about to be very snarky. Puffing out her chest at the boy, she huffed out, “Well, that is very hypocritical of you.” Hypocritical, eh? He imagined she heard that word from him before, it was still a very big word for a seven-year-old. It was now Draco’s turn to be confused, blinking at Cyra. She seemed to be radiating cockiness as she responded by pointing at his shoes, “Your shoes.  They are horrendously muddy.” Horrendously? Remus did his best not to laugh. He couldn’t believe his pup was copying him, and using it to outsmart a Malfoy?

Lucius, seemingly horrified, snatched his wand out of his cane before flicking them towards Draco’s loafers, the mud dissipating. “Come Draco.” He snatched up his son’s hand, shooting Remus a sneer, “Let us not waste any more time.” Without another word, he dragged off the child, stomping off in defeat. Once they were gone, Remus couldn’t resist letting out a guffaw, his body shaking with laughter. Cyra kept her chest jutting out, her eyes glinting with delight as he tried to gather himself together.

Once he had settled down, he bent down, placing a kiss at the top of her head. “Very good,” He praised her, “But let’s not make this a common occurrence, understood?” He knew infuriating the Malfoy’s would not be wise. Once she gave him her promise, they were back off to the cabin to enjoy their candy.

Chapter Text

“We’ll need your signature here, Mr. Lupin.”

Remus was brought out of his daze by the ministry worker placing the scroll on the desk, pointing at the empty line. Taking a deep breath, he snatched up the quill from the desk, scratching his signature elegantly onto the parchment. He watched in surprise as it glowed brightly for a moment before disappearing, the ink sinking into the paper permanently.

Glancing back up, he looked at the worker curiously, “Is that all?” She shook her head before scooting the scroll over to where Cyra was, waiting. The girl said nothing, her eyes downcast as she held Snuffles tightly to her chest. He let out a sigh, taking Cyra’s small hand in his, “Cyra, are you sure you want to do this? I won’t blame you if you wish not to. You can stay an Owens, I won’t take offense.” Her only response was shaking her head, squeezing his hand tightly. She had said she wanted this, wanted him to be more than just a guardian.

Sparing a look towards the worker, he leaned down to whisper in Cyra’s ear, “She won’t hurt you. I’m here. And after this, you can go play with the twins.” At that, her eyes lit up, her hand sliding out of his to take the quill from the desk. The worker stopped her however, “No, not that. She has a different signature.” With that, the worker slid out a drawer behind the desk before producing a needle. Remus recoiled, anger beginning to form, “Excuse me!? That’s absolutely barbaric!”

His words did nothing to offend the worker, who simply stared at him stoically, “It’s just a quick prick. She’ll barely feel it.” Cyra’s were locked onto the needle with wide eyes, retreating into the chair, her legs being pulled into her chest. The sight of her cowering only fueled the fire inside Remus, his eyes narrowing on the worker, “What is the meaning of this?”

With a roll of her eyes, she placed a hand on the parchment, pointing directly to a part of the clause, “Cyra Owens will become your child, meaning your blood. In order for that to happen, she has to sign with a droplet of her own. This shows not only the consent, but it is required for magic to recognize her as yours.” Remus gave a huff, hating the reasonable answer he was given, wanting to just be mad that the worker even though a part of him knew she wasn’t responsible for it.

He turned around to tell her she didn’t need to do this, but she was already reaching out for the needle. He couldn’t form a word as she extended her finger for the worker to prick, which the woman seemed to be pleased by. With a quick stab, Cyra let out a yelp, causing Remus to nearly launch himself at the woman. He managed restraint however, watching Cyra rub the droplet onto the blank parchment. Much like his signature, the bloody mark glowed before sinking into the paper.

Procuring a plaster from his satchel, he quickly took her finger and wrapped it in the colorful rainbow bandage. Cyra gave him a small smile, before she took her hand back to cuddle Snuffles. The worker took the scroll back while they were distracted, slipping out her wand and proceeding to do some enchantments over it. Remus simply watched, the anger slowly ebbing away as he watched the runes hover above in the air. It was truly mesmerizing, the runes slowly rotating around each other before they sank into the paper much like the ink.

With a satisfied hum, the woman turned the scroll back around to him, Cyra’s name at the top was blurring, the ink beginning to move around as if it was made up of small worms. Once they were still, the name appeared once again, changed. ‘Cyra Owens Lupin’ stood out on the parchment in large black scripture, he didn’t know how something so simple could cause tears to surface, but it did. Cyra was his now, his pup, his daughter. With a sniffle, he quickly wiped his eyes and looked down at her with a smile, “What do you think?” Cyra stared at the parchment for a moment before turning back to smile at him. Her father.

The moment was broken by the worker giving a laugh, “I just noticed how ironic her name is!” They turned back to her with confusion. She continued to giggle before noticing the looks, going silent, “Oh. Do you not know?” Remus simply raised a brow, waiting for her to explain. The woman was giddy for the first time after spending an hour with ‘beasts’, as she had called them. Unable to resist a smile, she pointed at the name, “Cyra Lupin. The meaning of her name is, ‘Born in the light,’ otherwise known as Sun. Her last name means Wolfish, or Wolf. She’s a werewolf who was born in the light, but lives beneath the moon. Sun Wolf.”

After a moment of silence, she looked at them both to see they were unamused, the smile wiping off her face, “Right, well. I suppose it’s not as ironic as being named Wolf Wolf, but I found it rather funny.” Smoothing her hair back into the coif it was in, she rolled the scroll back up, waving a hand in their direction, “You may leave. I’ll file this with the department later today. Enjoy your family or whatever.”

Remus simply stood, grabbing his satchel and swinging it over his head before taking Cyra’s hand, “Thank you for your time.” They walked out, the worker’s words echoing behind them. A family. They were a family now.

Cyra ignored the twin brothers as they whispered among themselves, her hearing could pick up every thing they said, but she pretended she could not.

“He wouldn’t notice. He barely uses it!”

“Right, his nose is always stuck in that dragon book.”

“We’d just have to make sure Percy doesn’t see.”

“Steal his glasses?”

“Maybe.”

Letting out a sigh, she glanced up from her book, knowing she’d regret this, “Percy is in his room at the moment, he had a stomachache earlier.” Identical blue eyes shot in her direction, widening in wonder at her, “How do you know that?”

She paused for a moment, realizing that she couldn’t just say that she had heard it downstairs, normal people couldn’t hear that far. Quickly coming up with an excuse, she blurted out, “I saw him. On my way to the bathroom. He was holding his stomach and going into his room.” They bought it, thank merlin, giving a nod. 

“Well then.” Fred began, a devilish smile beginning to form that caused Cyra’s stomach to drop. George invaded into her personal space, sporting the same smile, “Want to join us, Cyra?” She felt her lips twitch into a nervous smile, “Well..what are you doing?” The boys shared a look together before rushing to her sides, a hand cupping each ear as they whispered to her. From an outside view, one would think they were simply children plotting a little prank, but one look at Cyra’s face would show the trouble that about to occur.

She couldn’t believe she was doing this; how could she have let them talk her into such a scheme? Wringing her hands nervously in front of her, she shuffled into Charlie and Bill’s room. The teenage boys attention was instantly stolen from her, causing her to feel immensely guilty as they gave her such comforting smiles. How could she do this to them? Biting her lip, she shuffled herself further in the room, looking between the boys to figure out which would be an easier target.

Deciding on Charlie, she pointed at his book, watching him look down to it once again.  Charlie catching on, shot her an excited smile, “You wanna learn about the dragons!?” Bill let out a scoff, shaking his head before turning back to his studies. Cyra swayed a bit on feet, her eyes as wide as a doe before she gave a quick nod. In his excitement, he bent down, wrapping an arm around her waist and hoisting her up onto the bed next to him, “Well lemme show you!” Cyra’s heart was racing, feeling immensely uncomfortable about being suddenly lifted up. She supposed Moony did it all the time, but that was different, he was.. her dad? Yes, he was her dad.

Charlie didn’t seem to notice, repositioning the book so she could see, pointing at a picture on the book, “This, little Cyra, is a Hebridean Black, beautiful isn’t it?” She studied the page with interest, looking over the detailed scales before she noticed the dragon’s tail, “It’s an arrow?” Charlie let out an chuckle, vibrating Cyra’s back, “Good eye. The Hebridean Black is a dragon native to Britain, similar to the Welsh Green, only this one is much more aggressive. That tail is actually a spike.” She reached out the trace the page, looking at the dragon in wonder, “What else?” He hugged her closer, using the arm wrapped around her to point at the dragon, “This dragon can get up to 30 ft long, their diet is deer, though you’ll occasionally see them snatching off cows.”

Cyra let out a giggle at the thought of such a large dragon just swooping in and snatching a cow off the fields. The thirteen-year-old seemed pleased with her amusement, flipping to the next page, “Next, the Ukrainian Ironbelly, this is the largest breed in the world.”

Cyra soon grew distracted, listening to Charlie ramble about dragons for the next hour as she leaned in to his warmth. Her eyes kept flicking from the book to the redhead, starry-eyed as he trailed on. It wasn’t until she heard the shuffling outside the door that she looked away, seeing the twins staring at her in anticipation. Oh, that’s right.  She had a job to do.

“Now, you remember me mentioning the Hungarian-“ Charlie was cut off when there was a tight squeeze around his chest, dropping the book to look down at the young girl. Cyra felt her cheeks flush as she realized how humiliating this situation was, blurting out, “Thank you for teaching me! C-Can I maybe learn more next time?” Her voice softened at the end, her hand slipping to his pocket. Charlie glanced over at Bill who was staring at the pair in shock, before he shot his brother a smug smile and hugged the girl back, “Of course pet, anytime!”

With that, she pulled away, letting her dark curls cover her face as she hopped off the bed and hurried out. The twins had to jump out of the way to keep her from bulldozing them over. Once she was in their room again, she dropped to the carpeted floor, covering her face in embarrassment. The boys soon entered after her, watching as she sat there mumbling to herself. Fred soon had enough and poked her in the shoulder, “Cyra? Did you get it?” The girl let out a huff, before she took her hands away from her face, reaching into her jumper sleeve. The twins felt confused as they saw how red her face was, but it was immediately replaced with joy as the wand came into their view.

“You’re a genius Cyra!” They shouted in unison, snatching up the wand to look at it in awe. She merely responded with a hum, placing her hands back over her face. They refused to let her mope, linking an arm into hers before dragging her down the stairs, “Come on then! Mum told us to set the table!”

Cyra watched unamused at the fork slowly levitating in the air, before it found its place at the table, falling with a loud clatter. George let out a cheer before handing the wand off to Fred, “Your turn!” Fred gave him a grin, waving Charlie’s wand over at the spoon next, “Windguardium Leviosa!”

With a slight waver, the spoon slowly descended in the air, going above Cyra’s head before being dropped unceremoniously onto the table. She tried her best not to smile, not wanting to give them the satisfaction, despite how cool it was. Fred found his way next to her, taking her hand to put the wand in it. “Come on, Cyra. You should have some fun too.”  He spoke softly, giving her hand a squeeze. His twin seemed to notice her mood, hurrying over to her other side, “Yeah, Cyra, we couldn’t have done this without you.” He carefully tucked a curl behind her ear, a comforting gesture that he had developed for her.

 Finding herself unable to be angry at them, she raised the wand over at the cutlery, “Windguardiam Leviosa!” It took a lot longer, but slowly the knife had rose up, going up high into the air. She felt herself begin to sweat as she struggled to keep ahold of it, carefully moving it over to the table.

“You’re doing it Cyra! Look at you!” Fred whispered excitedly into her ear, watching the knife in awe.

“You’re doing magic!” George finished his brother’s sentence, a large grin forming as he saw it above their heads.

Cyra could feel her heart racing, it was going much slower than the twin’s did, but perhaps it was because she wasn’t related to Charlie that the wand didn’t respond as well to her? She felt the sweat drip down her back as she saw it above their heads, her arm extended to keep ahold of it.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

She jumped, dropping her arm quickly, the wand falling to the ground behind her, her eyes darting over to the owner of the voice. It was Percy, glaring at the trio disapprovingly, “I should-“ He was cut off when something fell down past Cyra’s sight, she watched confused as Percy’s eyes widened in horror.

The twins let out a shout, grabbing her in panic, “CYRA!” She looked around, even more confused what was happening. Parting her lips to speak, that was when she felt it. Looking down at the ground, she saw the knife she had been levitating, sitting at her feet in a puddle of blood. Blood. Oh no.

The twins began screaming, tugging her over to the kitchen table to sit down.

“WHERE IS MUM!?”

Percy began stammering, grabbing onto the wall, “S-She said she was running out real quick, B-Bill’s in charge.” As if on cue, the eldest Weasley appeared at the bottom of the stairs, “Oi! What’s all the shouting about!?” It was then he saw Cyra, rushing over, “Oh no! Oh no! Sweetie, what happened?” She went to speak, but he held up his hand, “No, no! Don’t speak! It might make it worse!” He turned to the twins with blazing eyes, “WHAT HAPPENED!?” They soon joined Percy in their stammering, tears filling their eyes as they tried to explain what happened to their friend.

“Oi, anyone seen my wa-“

Cyra really wanted to curl up and die the moment she heard his voice, the teen scurrying over to her to crouch down next to Bill, “Oh no! Are you okay!?” She went to apologize, her eyes tearing up, but he quickly stopped her, “No! Don’t speak! It might make it worse.” She could only roll her eyes, causing the tears to fall down her cheeks.

Bill turned to Charlie with a stern stare, “Charlie, you’re better at healing spells than I am.” He gave a quick nod, “Right, right, I need my wand. Do you lot know where it is?” Bill pointed behind him, causing him to whirl around and see the twins standing their sheepishly, holding out the wand to him. Charlie gave them a little smirk, “Troublemakers, gimme that.” He took it back before he gave his attention back to Cyra, tilting her head up by her blood-stained chin, “Alright, look up pet. Yes, like that.” Cyra kept letting the tears fall, her small body trembling. Charlie shushed her, softening his voice, “Hush now, it’s okay. Now, I might be the better one at spells, but I’m still not perfect. You may be left with a scar. For that, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t care, she was used to scars, it was the shame and guilt that ate at her. Charlie began fixing her up, taking his time so he didn’t hurt her, vanishing the blood on her person once he was finished.  The brothers hovered around, staring down at her in worry. Cyra looked at Charlie, shaking in her seat, “I-I’m sorry..” He felt his heart break at how small she sounded, letting out a sigh before he pulled her into a hug, “Don’t worry pet, I know the naughty troublemakers made you do it.” Said troublemakers shouted in offense, hurrying over to her sides.

“Hey now! We didn’t mean for Cyra to get hurt!” Fred puffed out his chest, glaring down at his older brother. George nodded furiously, copying him, “Yeah! We would never hurt our Cyra!” Charlie raised a brow at them, “Your Cyra?” Cyra let out a groan, hiding her face in his shoulder.

“Yeah, our Cyra!” They shouted in unison, before they began to attempt to tug them apart. “Speaking of-“ Fred began, “You should let go of her!” George finished. Charlie let out a laugh, before he picked the small girl up, standing at full height to put them at a disadvantage. “Now, now, boys. Scared I’ll steal your bride?” He watched as the twin’s turned pink, “Let her go!”

Bill came to his side, nudging him with a grin, and he immediately understood the message. Handing her off to Bill, he shouted, “Rescue the Princess!” Cyra let out a cry as the eldest brother ran off with her, his chest vibrating deeply with laughter. She spotted the twins over his shoulder, running after them with loud shouts.

“GIVE HER BACK, YA BUGGER!”

Bill’s laughter only increased as he took off out the back door, running out into the garden, though he made sure to hold onto her securely. Soon enough, all the Weasley’s were out in the field, chasing after their oldest brother. Excluding Ron and Ginny, of course, who were off with their mother. Their mother who was sure to have a fit when she came home.

The game seemed to be rather unfair, not for any of the brothers, but for her. She could only let out an oomph as she was tossed back and forth between the brother’s arms, kept out of the grasp from the twins. Percy was off to the side, standing beneath a tree and shouting that he would tell their Mum the moment she came home.

Cyra couldn’t help but admit she was having fun, however. Soon, the grumpy sounds turned into laughter as she was occasionally tossed up into the air and caught like a quaffle. The twins eventually got sick of trying to catch her, instead making the plan to just ram into their brothers with all of their might. It was a reasonable plan, however, Cyra was also heading to the ground during the fall.

As if they had inhuman speed, they threw themselves at her, rolling in the grass. Then they kept on rolling, down the hill that was inconveniently placed there. When they reached the bottom, they were thrown apart, laughter bursting from their chests as they laid on their backs.

Cyra’s face was flushed, grass and leaves stuck in her hair, her eyes locked onto the sky. Her heart was pounding in her chest from the adrenaline, laughter continuing to escape her as she struggled to catch her breath. The twins soon came into her field of view, looking down at her with identical grins.

Her eyes flicked back and forth between the both of them, “What?” Fred was the first to speak, his ears turning red, “You’re pretty when you laugh.” George looked at his twin curiously before looking back down at her, not looking a bit bashful “Yeah, you are.  You should laugh all the time.”

Cyra laid there for a moment before she smiled brightly at the pair, “That was fun!” Fred and George simply smiled back before looking at each other, seeming to share a thought as their smiles grew into something else. Without another word, they ducked down out of her sight, laying on both sides of her.

“There you three are! You alright?” Cyra turned her head to see Bill standing at the top of the hill, giving him a thumbs up. Sitting herself up, she brushed off the grass on her clothes, though she didn’t bother with her hair. When she went to stand up, her arms were snatched by hands. Turning around in shock, she saw the twins staring at her with worry.

“What’s wrong?”

They didn’t respond, sitting up and wrapping their arms tightly around her. Cyra was very confused, but she just let them do as they wished. After some time, she spoke up, “Fred? George?”

“You won’t leave us right?”

She tried to turn her head to the twin who spoke, but it was very difficult to see his face, “Of course Fred.” He gave her a tighter squeeze in response. George finally moved his face into her view, smiling at her, “You’re going to be with us forever?” Okay, what was going on?

Cyra knew the right answer must be to just agree, of course she was going to be with them forever, they were friends. Returning the smile, she replied, “Yes, George, I’ll be with you two forever.” Fred eventually lifted his head at that, looking at her, though he wasn’t smiling like his brother.

“You’re the only one who can tell us apart, you know?”

Cyra looked away at that, she knew they were very sensitive about their family not telling them apart. She could do it because of their scents. Though it was similar, both had a certain note that helped her separate them. She didn’t respond, she didn’t need to.

They both squeezed her tightly, surrounding her senses with the smell of sweat, the underlying scent of cherries and oranges sneaking in. She couldn’t resist them, they were held so close to her heart, like they were her pack.

“We’ve gotta go, you know?” She finally whispered, reaching up to pat them on the back like Moony did for her.

The boys simply clung to her. Letting out a dramatic sigh, she flopped back on the grass, taking them with her. She figured she might as well take a nap, the warmth they radiated off causing her to drift off. The last thing she remembered was the feel of lips on both of her cheeks.

“How did this happen?”

Cyra shuffled her feet awkwardly as Remus examined her face, raising his brow as he waited for an explanation. She knew the moment she saw herself in the mirror, there was no going about him not noticing. On the left side of her mouth was a scar that ran through her top and bottom lip. Though it wasn’t as awful as her others, it was still visible.

Remus waited patiently, releasing her chin and sitting back, tapping his foot on the hardwood floor. Cyra looked around the room, wracking her brain for an idea, a way to explain this without getting in trouble.

“Um..mischief?”

So many things confused her that day. But the most confusing thing was, why did Remus look so horrified at her words?

Chapter Text

He felt old, Cyra was already eight years old now, and she had begun to hit what McGonagall called, ‘The Independent Milestone’. His old head of house was kind enough to mail a book to him that explained what was to be expected in these next occurring years. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he panicked when Cyra began pulling away from his affections, writing quickly to McGonagall for advice, asking what he had done wrong.

She wasn’t going to be as clingy anymore, beginning to create her own bubble, and craving more privacy. Not only that, but she was emotionally developing. The other week, she had accidentally left her chocolates by the window, coming back to find them all melted by the sunlight. He wanted to comfort her so bad, but he had watched as she worked through the frustration, her facial expressions changing rapidly as she was fighting the tears. Then, it was as if it had never happened, she just simply got a different candy and moved on.

He was immensely proud, but at the same time, terrified. He never felt more ridiculous than when she sat him down to have a discussion, though he really wasn’t intimidated by a little girl still clinging to her dog plush, even if he tried to keep a straight face. She had recently decided to start calling him by a parental name, but wanted to know what was acceptable. He felt like he was in a conference meeting, was his daughter seriously asking him what name he consented to?

He almost lost it when she brought out a list, proceeding to read off the names she had written down on sparkly pink paper. The decision was ‘Papa’, a name he found absolutely adorable to hear coming from her. When they were finished, she thanked him for coming before going off to go play with her potions set. This was his house, and she thanked him for coming.

She had truly begun to grow before his very eyes. Though, he had wondered if she would ever break out of her shyness. She was not bad around the crowd of people that they knew, but she instantly shrunk back into herself the moment it was somebody new.

He was happy to see her spend time with Harry, who seemed to gain a bit of courage by speaking with her. It wasn’t until the day that he took her to the park and he didn’t show up, that she had her first tantrum. Not her usual fits, but an actual tantrum. She seemed to have adopted Harry as a little brother, he tried not to think of the irony that one marauder child was instinctively protective of another.

But, no matter how many times they visited, he never returned. Cyra refused to give up, returning there every Friday until her eighth birthday came around. She had sulked around the cabin for some time, not wishing to speak to him or anyone else. He honestly did not know what happened, he worried that Dumbledore caught on and hid Harry someplace else. Perhaps Harry’s guardians caught on that he was missing each Friday? He would never know. All that mattered is that Harry was safe, which the last time he inquired to Dumbledore, he was.

Letting out a sigh, he threw his head back on the couch, running a hand over his face. There was one last thing that he was dealing with. A problem that he didn’t even know he had until Mrs. Weasley had notified him. Apparently Cyra had a staring problem. She watched Mrs. Weasley each time she baked, and at first the woman had found it adorable, but now she was being thrown off.

She had believed it was because Cyra wanted the sweets she was making, but no, she even watched the clean up as well. No child cared about the mess. But his Cyra did, apparently. He didn’t notice it, but how could he? He cooked all the time and not once did she ever stare like Mrs. Weasley described. To experiment, he decided at random to make brownies. He announced it to Cyra like he typically did before he made a meal. But this time, it was as if he triggered something.

Next thing he knew, he was stiffly stirring the batter, feeling uncomfortable under the child’s gaze. She said nothing. It would have been better if she at least spoke. He tried to form a conversation with her, but she simply gave short answers before continuing her staring act.

He understood what Molly had meant when she told him it was like she was looking right through you. It was as if he was a ghost that she couldn’t see. There had to be something up. He really hoped it wasn’t something related to trauma. He had done his best to help her, reading muggle child psychology books. They learned coping mechanisms, some he even administered to when the full moon was arriving. It was all very helpful.

Once the baking and cleanup was over, she had snatched up a brownie and retreated into her room. It wasn’t until her door had shut with a click that he sagged in relief, grateful to be from under her piercing gaze. Now he sat here, wondering what in merlin was going on with the child.

“Papa?”

Jerking out of his seat, he snapped his head in her direction, eyes wide. When did she sneak up on him? Cyra stood before him, amber colored eyes staring into him much like she did the day he was baking. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, he glanced away, “What is it love?” Merlin, why does she stare like that? What was she seeing exactly? He didn’t understand what could make an eight-year-old look so intense.

“I want to learn how to bake.”

What? He turned back to his daughter in shock, unsure if he had said that out loud. She shuffled her feet for a moment, her eyes still piercing into him as she repeated herself, “I want to learn how to bake, Papa.” He didn’t look away this time, looking into the eyes that matched his own.  That’s what it was. Determination. She had been staring at them this entire time with the desire to learn what they were doing, how they were doing it.

But she didn’t ask to help, which was curious. Was she scared she’d be shut down? He would have preferred her offering to help over being creepily stared at for two hours, but that was in the past. Giving her a reassuring smile, he reached over to take her hand, “Very well. Let’s get you a recipe book.” Her intense vibe softened instantaneously, squeezing his hand with excitement, “Thank you!”

Though he had given his blessing, he was very worried. Should an eight-year-old be allowed to bake? While Cyra was getting ready for their trip to the bookstore, he had quickly scribbled a letter to McGonagall. By the time they had arrived back, so did the owl. As Cyra began flipping through the book, he snatched up the letter and read through it quickly.

Dear Remus,

Yes, this is very normal for her age. There is nothing to worry about. During this time, they want to begin doing things by themselves. Though I find it curious that she’s taken an interest in a hobby like baking. This could be a very good skill for her to achieve. But, do not leave her alone in the kitchen. She must be supervised at all times. Allow her the freedom to create something, but still hover in case something goes wrong. As well as be sure to offer her assistance if she may need it.

-Minerva McGonagall

Letting out a sigh of relief, he tossed the letter on the dining room table before he followed the small child into the kitchen, “So what have we decided upon?” Cyra turned to him with that intense stare once again, the creepy factor already worn off now that it had meaning behind it.

“I should start small. Build up. I’m going to make cookies.”

Yes, that was very reasonable. He couldn’t help but feel proud at her thinking process. He simply stood back as she began to gather the ingredients, adding in, “If you need any help, I’ll be here.” Her only response was a hum, gathering up the supplies in her small arms.

Placing the large bowl down, she soon realized her height disadvantage, her head barely grazing the counter. Remus bent down to grab the climbing stool he had gotten for her, placing it next to her. Cyra’s eyes lit up as he gave her the solution, shooting him a quick, “Thank you Papa!” Before she climbed up and began working.

Despite McGonagall’s comforting words, he was still worried, watching her adamantly to make sure she wasn’t getting hurt. During his parental watch, he realized something. Cyra was very good about following instructions. She measured the sugar and butter evenly, making sure to double check the recipe book before proceeding each time.

The only thing she struggled with was the egg. Despite her many efforts, she just could not get the egg to crack and stay together for her to plop in the bowl. Her hands were now covered in the buttery mix, making it even more difficult to grasp the eggs.

Seeing the mess of yolk on his floor, he was tempted to help her, but he restrained himself. He had to let her do this on her own, or choose to ask for his help. With an agitated huff, she took the last egg in the carton, taking her time as she cracked it on the edge of the bowl. It was a gentle tap, then another with bit more strength. Then he heard it, the crack. He waited with baited breath as she slowly brought it over the bowl and broke it open, all the insides pouring into the bowl, and no shell.

“Yes!” He shouted without realizing, causing Cyra to jump and whip around to look at him. She didn’t seem angry though, the smile bright on her face as she held the shells triumphantly. After that, she did everything herself, buttering the cookie tray, placing them 2 inches apart like the book said. The only time she asked him for help was when she needed to place them in the oven, too scared to touch it while it was hot.

He happily accepted, taking the tray of cookies and sliding them in. Once the time was set and ticking down, he watched as she began the cleanup. Though she didn’t ask for his assistance, he may have used his wand to vanish the yolk off the floor.

Once the cookies were finished, Remus took them out and placed them on the stove top to cool. Two showers and some new pajamas later, the cookies were ready for them to eat. He allowed her the first bite, wanting her to savor her first time making something. She was nervous, bringing the large cookie to her mouth before taking a soft nibble. He saw it instantly, her eyes lighting up with delight before she took a larger bite. Eating his, he felt his heart swell with pride. The cookie was delicious. It was just a plain chocolate chip cookie, but it tasted like the best damn cookie he ever had, and it was all because Cyra made it.

Needless to say, the cookies definitely did not last long. But Cyra’s love for baking grew, and Remus refused to stop her. Plus, the sweets were really good, so who was he to complain?

“No, absolutely not.” 

Cyra’s face fell at his rejection, tugging on his hand once again, “Please Papa!” Remus looked away from her sad eyes, letting out an irritated sigh, “Cyra, I love you. But no, you absolutely cannot spend the night with the twins!” With that, she was silent, no more whining or pleads. Well, that was rather quick in his opinion. When he was a child, he would go on for much longer.

After a couple moments of silence, he risked a glance down, seeing to his surprise that she was gone. Where on earth did she go!? Looking around the room, he spotted her by the couch, sitting herself down with one of the recipe books she possessed.  

Narrowing his eyes, he waited, there had to be more to this. She couldn’t possibly be just letting this go? Just like that? But, after the clock had ticked past 5 minutes, he realized that was it. Cyra had simply just given up. It was then that Remus began thinking back on his words. Was he perhaps too harsh? She seemed to really want to go.

Maybe he had been a bit blinded by his protectiveness. He knew he didn’t really want her to go because there would be almost nothing but boys there. Granted, the twins were only eight, but that didn’t excuse them putting the moves on his daughter every chance they got. Not to mention the little crush on one of Molly’s older boys, oh she thought he didn’t notice, but he did.  He saw those little moon eyes she made at him when he spoke about dragons.

At first, he had figured she was really into dragons, another hidden passion maybe? But when he had tried to strike up a conversation about them, she didn’t seem that interested. No, it was the boy. That sneaky little boy who dared to ensnare his pup. Now, the rational side of Remus understood that this infatuation would disappear with time. She’ll realize that boys are gross and hopefully stay single until she was at least thirty. He couldn’t wait for those days.

Coming over to sit beside her, he basked in the silence for a moment before speaking, “Fine. One night.” Cyra slowly looked from her book, raising a brow at him in a very similar fashion to his own. Sometimes he hated how much she acted like him. He shot her a raised brow back, waiting for an answer. With that, she closed the book, placing it carefully to the side. She took a breath to speak, before deciding to simply just hug him. It was the best answer she could supply.

Before he could say more, she was off, snatching up Snuffles from the table. Ah, she had to pack for the sleepover, of course. That made sense. Her sleepover, with the twins. In the same room. Just then, it finally hit Remus what he agreed to. Hopping up from the couch, he almost shouted for her to come back, but he knew it was too late. He agreed. She didn’t even put up a fight, and he just agreed. What kind of game was this child playing, and how did he fall right into her tiny hands!?

“This is going to be great, Cyra!”

“Yeah! I can’t believe Mr. Lupin agreed to let you stay!”

Cyra stood off to the corner, watching the twins as they pushed junk around their room in an attempt to clean up. They were positively beaming with delight, and it wasn’t until she noticed they were moving the nightstand from between the beds that she spoke, “Why are you moving that?” In unison, they both turned to her, attempting their best to look innocent.

“Why, to push our beds together, of course!” Fred replied, his twin simply nodding along. When Cyra said nothing else, they went back to scooting the nightstand across the wood, causing the most horrible squeaks to invade Cyra’s hearing. With a wince, she covered her ears, pushing herself against the wall in hopes of being further away from the sound.

Once it was over, she looked over the mess that the twins had created. The nightstand was now off to the side against the bookcase, their beds pressed clumsily together, and dust flying everywhere. Taking a step closer, she noticed the scuff marks on the floor, knowing Mrs. Weasley would not be pleased. As if reading her mind, the boys threw some articles of clothing over the marks before turning away as if they didn’t just hide the scene of the crime.

Taking her luggage, George placed it on the nightstand, giving it a gentle pat. Fred came behind her and took Snuffles from her arms, ignoring her cry, “Calm down, Cyra! I’m just putting him on the bed!” She responded with a huff, letting him do as he pleased. That was just the easier way to go about things, letting the twins get their way.

She was very excited, though, despite all the ruckus. She still had no idea what had caused Moony to agree, but he did. She had simply seen it as a lost cause, but perhaps he wanted her to behave before he allowed it? The answer was not very clear to her, but she was happy she was here nonetheless.

“So,” She began, looking at the boys expectantly, “What first?” At that, they seemed to be at a loss, realizing that they hadn’t planned much further than her getting to the Burrow and the room ready.  “Well, what do you wanna do?” George piped up, motioning over to her to take the lead. Oh, but she wasn’t very good with that. She much preferred to follow.

Looking around the room once again, she wracked her brain to come up with an idea, but nothing seemed to really spark anything. What could they really do? Usually when they had their play dates, they were either being taught by Mrs. Weasley, playing card games, or plotting some kind of prank on an unsuspecting victim. It was then she had an idea, “Let’s play pretend!” Yes, she remembered those girls playing it.  Though she refused to play with them due to their nasty nature, she was very intrigued by the game.

The boys shared a look before turning back to her, “Pretend?” She gave a quick nod, now feeling very sure of her idea, though she didn’t entirely understand how it worked, “It’s a muggle game! You pretend to be something you’re not!” To that, they nodded along, though they were still obviously confused. Trying to figure out how to explain it, she rushed over to pick up a book, “Like this! I’m a bookstore owner, and this is a book that I keep in my store!”

That’s when it finally dawned on them, “Oh!” Fred looked around the room before taking his toy broom from the pile of junk on the floor, “I’m the world’s best beater, and I’m about the win the world cup!” Following his brother’s lead, George picked up the fake wand from the pile, “I’m an Auror!” Cyra nodded excitedly, hugging the book to her chest, “That’s it!”

And so, they played pretend for quite some time, all with three very different backgrounds. Somehow the librarian had started a little baking shop inside of her already formed book shop, with the Beater and Auror being her customers. They didn’t complain however, as they were actually being served sweets from Cyra’s stash.

“Kids?” Mrs. Weasley popped her head in, seeing them all huddled around the nightstand that had become a makeshift dining table. It was so cute to see them all playing, though she had absolutely no idea what was going on. The adorableness did not last long however when she had seen the mess of the room, her face quickly turning stern, “Did a typhoon blow through your room!? How on earth did it become even more of a mess? And why are your beds together!?”

Even though the anger wasn’t directed at her, Cyra still flinched back with the twins, looking away from the woman’s harsh stare. The twins however, hid their fear by pretending they didn’t see a thing, looking around the room in false confusion.

“Whatever do you mean, mum dearest?”

“Yes, our room is squeaky clean.”

“Our beds have always looked like that.”

Shockingly, Mrs. Weasley did not buy the boy’s act, her hands on her hips as she looked down on them in disapproval. Cyra edged herself away from the nightstand, wanting to be the farthest away from the woman’s steely gaze. However, Cyra wasn’t invisible, and Mrs. Weasley had immediately caught sight of her backing into a corner.

“Oh now dear,” Her voice had switched to a softer tone, “Of course I don’t blame you. I’m sure it would have been much worse if you weren’t here.” Cyra knew that wasn’t the truth, she let the twins get away with quite a lot, despite how high Mrs. Weasley’s opinions seemed to be of her. But, playing along with a nod, Mrs. Weasley’s furious stare soon went right back to the troublesome two.

At the end, the boys had been forced to clean their room, though Mrs. Weasley had allowed their beds to stay together. Perhaps she had forgotten to mention it during her house rattling shouts, but since it wasn’t said, they decided to leave it.

Dinner was a very eventful occasion, and it was one that Cyra wasn’t entirely used to. Dinner with Moony had always been quiet, both of them curled beneath a blanket as they watched the telly. Here, the whole family gathered around the table, each a designated spot. Cyra even surprisingly had a seat that was between the twins, they probably thought with her in between, they’d be less lightly to cause trouble. A reasonable approach, but useless.

As everyone was joyfully shouting amongst the table, Cyra was the odd one out, silently eating her food. Occasionally, she’d spare a glance over to Charlie, seeing him converse with Bill about some event that happened at school. Everyone seemed to have their own thing to talk about, and then there was her.

She began to miss the comfortable quiet of home, the static in the background as they dug into their meals. She began to miss Moony. Letting out a sigh, she picked a roll from the table and began nibbling on it. As she got lost in her thoughts, she felt the faint brush of something on cheek. Turning to the source, she saw George, his hand returning to its original spot after tucking one of her curls behind her ear.

That’s right, it was only one night. One night with her dearest friends. Shooting him a smile to show she was alright; she took a more vigorous bite of her roll. Though, she didn’t have much of an appetite after seeing Ronald speaking from across the table, food still half chewed and spilling from his open mouth.

“Alright Cyra?”

She turned her head to her left where the voice came from, her eyes adjusted to the dark, “Yeah, are you George?” He gave a shrug, shifting the blankets as he did. After a moment of silence, he sat up to look over to her right where his twin laid, “Fred?”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He spoke into the pillow, sounding almost half asleep. Cyra couldn’t resist the laughter that bubbled from her. George flopped back down on the mattress as he joined her in the laughing fit.

“Wha? Why you guys laughing?” Fred slurred once again, trying his best to hold his head up. That only incited their laughter to continue, leaving Fred to eventually join in. He didn’t get the joke, but he wouldn’t pass up the chance for a good laugh. After some point, their laughter had died down and was replaced with soft snores.

A light soon entered into the room as the door was cracked open to reveal Mr. and Mrs Weasley in the doorway. They watched the children as they slumbered, sharing a look between them both before they shut the door back without a single word.

“So? Did you enjoy your sleepover with the twins?”

Remus was almost too nervous to ask, but the glowing faces that Molly and Arthur had that morning seemed to prove that nothing awful happened. As well as one quick look over, Cyra had no extra scars or injuries. He never knew what to expect anymore.

“Yes! We got to play, and Mrs. Weasley made this large feast!” Cyra was a ray of sunshine that evening, nearly skipping as they returned to the cabin. Remus followed after her, heading into the kitchen to prepare her lunch, “Is that so?”

“Yep! But I really missed you, Papa.”

His hand stopped, hovering over the jar of jam, “I-Is that so?” Was he dreaming? Feeling the arms wrapped around his hips, he realized very quickly he was not. Oh merlin, his heart felt like it was melting. How could he be so lucky to have such an angel of a daughter? Maybe this sleepover was good for her, she needed to be shown independence at this age. Even if that meant she had to leave her dear old dad. It was to prepare her for when she went off to other places, like Hogwarts. As well as to build her bond with the twin brothers, who he was sure would protect her through those many years to come.

“Yeah!” Cyra cheered, releasing him to go get the bread from the pantry, “I also missed having a bed to myself. Fred and George snore in their sleep.” Remus let out a chuckle as he opened the jar, “Yes, well, I find it easier to sleep by myself as w-“ Wait. The smile wiped cleanly from his face as her words sunk in, his grip tightening on the glass.

“No more sleepovers.”

Chapter Text

“Can you take me to Hogwarts?”

Remus had just gotten home from work, rubbing his hand over his face as he tried to remove all the stress that working in retail caused. “Cyra, you’re not old enough to go to Hogwarts yet.” He joked, finally lifting his head to see her holding four messily wrapped boxes. He found it strange that they were wrapped in the Christmas paper when it was now February, he said nothing about it though.

Cyra struggled to hold the boxes in her hands, placing them on the couch before organizing them with care, “I made cookies for everyone.” Remus was now even more confused, staring at the small boxes, noticing one was barely holding on the tape that held the paper together, “Uh..huh. And who is everyone?” Those were surely not enough cookies for the entire school, unless his nine-year-old learned an extension charm without him knowing.

Holding out her four fingers, she counted them off, “Mr. Dumbledore, Ms. McGonagall, Mr. Hagrid, and Mr. Snape.” He did his best not to cringe at the reveal that one of these boxes was for Severus Snape. He supposed it was rather kind of her to think of them, though he was sure that the other teachers would feel a bit chagrined at not getting cookies. Giving her a pout, he tried his best attempt at puppy eyes, “I don’t suppose we could just mail these?” Her eyes narrowing at him was the only response he needed.

“Alright, I’ll notify Dumbledore that we’re coming.”

As they entered through the floo, he watched as Cyra struggled to keep hold of all the boxes. She had refused his earlier offer to carry them, demanding that she do this herself. Merlin, where had the times gone? She didn’t even need him to set the oven anymore.

“Ah, and what do we have here?” Dumbledore appeared before them, pretending to look surprised as Cyra stepped out of the floo, hurrying over to him with her boxes. It took a moment for her to decide which one was his, once the correct box was chosen, she held it out to the Headmaster.

“Why,” Dumbledore gave a gasp as he took the box from her, “A gift for me? Why, Ms. Lupin, you are truly gracious.” Cyra gave a little smile, shuffling her feet as she listened to his praises. Remus rolled his eyes, leave it to Dumbledore to really pour on the dramatics. The wizard took his sweet time opening his box, even taking a moment to compliment Cyra on her ‘gorgeous wrapping.’ When he opened it up, he for the first time truly looked shocked.

Cyra looked away in embarrassment, “I-I made them to look like you.. I even did little socks.” What? Remus was now genuinely curious, coming over to them to see a bunch of small little gingerbread wizards in the box, they were iced with a white beard, robes that looked similar to Dumbledore’s, and even mismatched socks. He was floored, he had no idea that Cyra’s baking skills had gotten so impressive. She even made a dozen, each one done by hand and identical to the last.

“Ms. Lupin, this is..” Dumbledore was at a loss for words, staring at the box with wide eyes. Giving himself a moment, he quickly cleared the lump in his throat, looking down at the nine-year-old almost in awe, “This is the most thoughtful gift I have ever received.” Cyra gave him a smile back before turning back to the doors, “We have more cookies to deliver, Papa!”

And so, he was right behind her, opening the door so she didn’t drop the boxes. Dumbledore was following from behind them, cradling his box with one hand, as the other was feeding him one of his cookie selves. Cyra, not knowing where to go, allowed Remus to lead the way to McGonagall’s classroom. Though, when he noticed the class inside, he told her that they couldn’t disturb McGonagall at the moment.

Looking disappointed, she turned to Dumbledore and held out the box, “Could you give this to her?” Refusing to take the item, the Headmaster went past them to knock on the door, opening it just a crack, “Professor McGonagall?”

“Y-Yes, Headmaster, what is it?” McGonagall was thrown off, not used to the Headmaster just barging in. Headmaster Dumbledore gave a little chuckle before placing his hand on Cyra’s back and nudging her inside the classroom, “You have a visitor.” Cyra stiffened beneath the student’s stares, not wanting to go further another inch. Professor McGonagall seemed to relax as she saw her, “Ms. Lupin, what a pleasant surprise!” At her tone, she didn’t seem angry that Cyra was disturbing her classroom.

Shuffling herself forward, she took the box she had drawn a little ‘M’ on the bottom, holding it out for the older woman to take. Professor McGonagall took it gently, not daring to laugh at the horrible wrapping, or the fact that it was Christmas paper in the middle of February. Taking it over to her desk, she unwrapped it, the sweet smell of vanilla wafting from the box. Opening it up, she had to take a moment, looking at Cyra with wonder, “You made these?” Cyra gave a quick nod, trying to ignore the students as they whispered amongst themselves. Remus popped his head in, curious, “What did she make you?”

Professor McGonagall held up the sugar cookie that was shaped like a cat, not just that, but frosted to look like her animagus form, with even a little pair of glasses on it. She remembered showing her animagus form to Cyra when she was 7, the girl found absolute delight in it, but she had never imagined that she would remember such details as her fur color.

Looking around her classroom, she realized she had gotten a bit misty-eyed, turning away for a moment to straighten herself out. Cyra was genuinely happy that the witch seemed to enjoy it, though it took her by surprise when she was tugged into a hug. Professor McGonagall sniffled, petting the girl’s hair for a moment, “Thank you so much dear. I cannot wait to teach you, you bright little girl.”

Embarrassed with all the attention, she whispered to the woman, “Thank you for helping Papa.” She then slipped out of the room, hurrying down the halls to her next destination. McGonagall gave a sharp laugh, covering her mouth quickly to silence it, reminding herself that she was in front of her class. With that, she waved off Headmaster Dumbledore and Remus before she continued on to teach, the box of cookies put away to be kept safe.

Cyra knew exactly where she was going this time, she just needed to go outside. Remus and Dumbledore were hot on her trail, trying to keep up with the nine-year-old’s energy. The halls were empty, so Cyra felt no shame as she hurried through them. Once she had reached the entrance to the ground, she waited for the wizards to catch up to her.

“Cyra, you really need to slow down. We can only go so fast!” Remus panted, clutching his chest. Dumbledore in the same state as he. Cyra pointed out to the hut, “Hagrid is next.” Before they could speak, she was off once again, going down the path with determination.

Once they reached the hut, Cyra was the one to knock this time, rapping her knuckles softly on the large door. There was thudding inside before the door was swung open, causing Cyra to take a step back. Hagrid stood in the doorway, looking at Remus and Dumbledore in confusion, before he looked all the way down, “Ah, Cyra! Nice to see ye again!” She gave a smile back, doing her best not to wince as his voice boomed around her.

“I made you cookies.” She presented the box to him, having to stand on her tippy toes to even reach his hand. Crouching down, he carefully took the box, it looked much smaller once it was in his hands. “Aw..ye..” Unlike how long it took for McGonagall, Hagrid was instantly teary-eyed, “Ye didn’t have to do that! Ye little darlin, come on inside!” He parted the way for them to enter, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his eyes.

Cyra looked around the hut, seeing that nothing had really changed, it all looked the very same. Except for Fang, that puppy was now a very large dog. Instantly mesmerized, she ran over to him to play, Fang seeing her and getting excited. Remus laughed as he saw she was already on the floor playing with the large dog, taking a seat next to Dumbledore. Hagrid placed the box carefully on the table, taking his dear time to attempt not to rip the paper. While they waited, Dumbledore turned to Remus with a knowing smile, “Funny how time seems to change so much, but yet, is still the same.” The younger wizard stared at the elder man in confusion, waiting for an explanation.

But the Headmaster simply turned his attentions back to the child playing on the floor, “She’s much happier since the last time she was here, don’t you think?” To that, Remus gave a nod, “Yes, she’s grown so much.” He watched his daughter as she rolled around on the floor, trying to get Fang to do the same.

“She’s not the only one who has changed, Remus.”

Dumbledore’s words rang in his head, but before he could ask what he meant, Hagrid had cried out. The half-giant was sobbing as he looked into the box, his tears soaking his shirt. Cyra looked up worried, watching him and wondering why he seemed so upset. With trembling hands, he took out a cookie that were two times bigger than any of the others, shaped like a Hippogriff.

“She remembered!” He choked out, showing it to the men with pride. Remus saw out the corner of his eye, Cyra hunched over as relief flooded into her. Hagrid cried for a couple of minutes, not wanting to bite into something so personally made for him. Cyra let him have his moment, playing tug with Fang. Hagrid, once he was capable to have his emotions back in check, picked up the small girl in what one may call a bear hug.

Cyra’s eyes were wide with panic, but she didn’t fight to get out of his arms, allowing him to thank her the only way he knew how. “Yer a precious girl, Ms. Cyra! Don’t let nobody tell ye any different!” Hagrid shouted his praises for her, the girl within his grasp soon turning pink. Though, Remus could have sworn she was also turning a bit blue.

Last delivery, and they were out of here. Remus shivered as they entered the dungeons, his jumper doing nothing to provide him warmth. The Slytherin territory was a frosty abyss, sucking out all that was good and happy in you, like a dementor. Sighing, he didn’t notice Dumbledore’s knowing stare as they approached the Potion Master’s door. But after a moment of silence, he soon realized there was nothing happening. Looking down, Remus noticed Cyra shuffling her feet, a well-known sign that she was uncomfortable.

Leaning down, he whispered softly so only she could hear, “We don’t have to do this if you’re scared. You could just leave the box outside his door.” She shook her head, her brows furrowing as she struggled to gather the courage to knock. Just before her hand landed on the wood, the door burst open, the dark looming figure standing above her.

“What..do you want?” Snape drawled, glaring at Remus with contempt. Noticing this, Remus held his hands up in defense before pointing down at the child. Pitch black eyes soon drifted down to notice the child holding up the box to his person.

“You cannot bribe your way into my graces, Ms. Lupin, surely you know that.” He began, but Cyra was firm in her stance, holding the box up higher to him. Pausing, he examined the box, seeming to look for a trick or hidden joke. But there was none. Just a really bad wrapping job. Raising his lip in a sneer, he took the box from her hands, seeming to almost hover as he made his way to his desk.

“I’d comment on your god-awful wrapping, but I’m more disturbed by the fact there is Santa Claus on it. Do you not possess any other wrapping paper, Lupin?” Severus mocked as he began unwrapping the gift. Cyra made her way in, piping up, “I could only find the Santa paper.” The potions professor froze, his gaze drifting over to the small girl, “Well, well..” He raised a dark brow as he observed her, “She speaks.”

Remus realized that Snape had never heard Cyra actually speak to him. The only time they had met in person was the first time she came to Hogwarts. After that, the line of communication was him sending a present for her birthday each year. Like a distant uncle. A shudder took over him, trying to wipe his mind clean from the thought of Snape being Cyra’s uncle.

Cyra pressed her lips together, shuffling her feet once again, “I hope you like it.” The Potions Master turned back to his gift, opening it up the rest of the way before peering in. Unlike the others, he did not cry or sing her praises. No, instead he was silent. But Cyra didn’t seem to take any offense to it, observing him as he reached into the box and pulled out a cookie shaped like a potion bottle.

There was a moment of silence in the room, besides the sound of Dumbledore munching on his cookies. After what felt like forever, Severus had turned to address Cyra, holding the cookie delicately in his hand, “Are these a poisonous potion?”  She quickly shook her head, her eyes widening, “No. Sugar Cookie.” His lips quirked up as the joke flew over her head. Remus felt like he was in some alternate universe, one where Snape actually made jokes.

“Thank you for making that clear, as well as another thing.” The Potions Master turned away, placing the cookie back into the box. Cyra looked confused, looking back at the wizards behind her for an answer. Remus had no idea what the codger was on about. Dumbledore was still occupied with his cookies.

“Such a shame,” Snape began, his eyes locked onto Remus this time, “For you at least.” Remus raised a brow at him, “Oh yeah? Why?” The slimy git had the audacity to smirk as he realized Remus had no idea what he was on about. Motioning over to Cyra, he continued, “That she’ll never be a Gryffindor.” Seeing the shock from Remus, he decided to hit the final nail on the head, “We don’t need a sorting hat to tell us that this child is a Hufflepuff.”

Cyra had a question. Remus being her caretaker for so many years, he had learned to tell. Plus, she wasn’t exactly subtle about it, her eyes darting from him back to her plate. Folding the prophet in half, he inclined his head to her, “What is it, love?” Now put on the spot, she stopped pretending that she was eating her bacon, instead choosing to just sit there and stare at him.

“Um..” She began, wiping her greased fingers on a napkin, “So, I overheard Mr. Weasley speaking about stuff going on in the Ministry.” He gave a nod, letting her continue. “And he talked about You-know-who.. and his followers.” It was then she began moving about awkwardly in the chair, avoiding his gaze, “Did..”

Worry began to seep in when he heard the rise in her voice, placing the prophet on the table to give her his full attention, “Did what, Cyra?” Nibbling her lip, she pointed at her shoulder, where the fuzzy jumper covered her bite, “Did he work for You-know-who?” Oh. Now he understood. Cyra didn’t like speaking about the incident very often, but he had noticed she had gotten more interested in what was in the prophet lately with the death eater captures. Even now, the Aurors were trying to weed them out.

“Yes.” He answered simply, allowing it to sink in for her before he continued, “He did. Fenrir, despite being affected by lycanthropy, shared the same ideals as You-know-who. He was used as a tool, for when witches and wizards refused You-know-who.”

As he explained, the realization struck that he would have to reveal the truth behind her parent’s death. He waited, watching the gears turn in Cyra’s head before they all fit in place, her next question on the tip of her tongue. He didn’t want her to ask it, silently praying to himself.

“Then, my parents?” Her soft voice crushed his hopes, the weight increasing on his shoulders and making it harder to breathe. Looking down at his clasped hands, he began, “Your father was a muggle, but your mother..” He took a moment to breathe, it felt like his lungs were collapsing, “Your grandmother was the daughter of Caspar Crouch. A family from the Sacred Twenty-Eight. So your mother being half-blood mattered not to him. At least, not enough that it would keep him from recruiting her.”

Cyra listened to his every word, hanging on to each detail as the story began to come together, broken fragments of her past creating the full picture. Remus tried to steady his voice, not wanting to upset Cyra worse, “She was impossible for him to find, having chose to live in the muggle world with your father and having you. He sent Fenrir to find her. But after You-know-who’s downfall, it was no longer to recruit, the search was now for-“

“Revenge.”

Cyra’s voice echoed in the deadly silent kitchen, causing Remus to spare her a glance. His heart broke as he saw the light leave her eyes, her dull gaze on the half-eaten food before her. He imagined she wouldn’t have much of an appetite after this.

“Yes,” He admitted, “It was for revenge. For forsaking their Lord.” This next part is what killed him, not because of pity, but anger. He was still as angry as the day Dumbledore told him the secret behind the night.

“You weren’t supposed to get involved. But Fenrir was twisted and cruel, and he-“ He didn’t say more, his voice breaking, his jaw clenched as he struggled to gather himself. Cyra’s eyes slowly raised to look at him, her hands sliding over the jumper where the deep claw marks resided on her stomach, “He..” She trailed off, knowing exactly what Remus was trying to say.

Giving a sharp nod, he snatched the glass from the table, forcing himself to drink some water and cool down. The liquid dribbled down his chin, but he paid no mind, trying to drown the fire that flared within him. The sound of the chair being scooted from the floorboards pervaded his hearing, causing a pause as he waited to see what Cyra did.

The girl stood there for a few moments, staring off in the distance as if she wasn’t really there. Placing the glass on the table, he watched, his face wrinkling with concern. Then, it happened, a single tear trailed down her cheek. The moment it appeared, Remus was out of his chair and picking her up. Just like he did when she was six after her first transformation, he cradled her in his arms.

“I know. I’m so sorry.” He whispered continuously into her hair, setting them both on the couch and letting her cry it out as long as she needed to. Even as his jumper got soaked with tears, sticking uncomfortably to his skin, he did not move. Allowing her to grieve the loss of her parents, and the life she could have had.

“You need to stop fancying Charlie.” Fred shouted out of random, causing both George and Cyra to stop in their ministrations. They were in the yard, trying to de-gnome the garden as Mrs. Weasley had ordered them to. Taking advantage of the distraction, the gnome slipped from their grasps, running off with a high-pitched cackle.

Watching it go, Cyra blinked slowly, before she turned her head back to the cause of this, “I’m sorry?” The redhead proceeded to let out a huff, the tips of his ears turning red, “You heard me! Tell her George!” George, now being dragged into this, began to stutter, turning to Cyra with wide eyes.

She stood there waiting, crossing her arms over her chest, not caring as she smeared dirt on her shirt. It made it just more intimidating for the poor boy. “Well,” He began, struggling to look her in the eyes, “Um, I think what Fred is trying to say is..that is..” He then looked at his brother, begging for backup, but he offered none. He was the one who got them in this mess, and he was retreating like a coward.

Looking between the brothers, she let out a sigh, shaking her head, “Boys..” A mutter came from her, sounding tired as she stomped off to where the gnome had gone off. Once she was far, Fred nudged George roughly, “Oi! Why didn’t you say anything?!” George scoffed, nudging him back harder, “As if you were any help! What was that about, eh?” He proceeded to mimic Fred, “You need to stop fancying Charlie, duh!” There was a second of silence before Fred launched himself at him, taking them both down to the ground in their tumble.

Meanwhile, Cyra was tossing a gnome in the air before kicking it off into the swimming hole. She knew she could just toss them off into a field, but she worried they might get hurt. Best to have a soft landing. Watching it swim around with glee, she thought back to Fred’s words. Fancying Charlie?  As if she would. Just the other week at lunch, she saw him picking his nose, and then wiping it on the table. It was so gross. Boys were gross.

Hearing shouts, she turned to see the twin brothers rolling around in the mud, trying to shove worms in the others ears. As she said, boys were gross.

Chapter Text

Remus was a bundle of nerves when he saw the owl arrive that morning. It was time, and he was so very excited, but terrified at the same time. Taking the letter from the barn owl, he placed it beneath Cyra’s plate. She had a rough time sleeping after her transformations, so he tended to let her sleep in as she wanted. Though no matter how much sleep she got, she still managed to fall asleep at the most random of times. He knew by now that if she wasn’t responding to his calls, she was probably curled up some place taking a nap.

Hearing the door to her room creak open, his heart began racing, deciding to keep himself busy by preparing her something to eat. As his hands fumbled to get the pan, he heard her sleepy greetings before she situated herself at her place at the table.

Snatching up the container of pumpkin juice from the fridge, he capped it open before pouring her a glass. Once it was placed before her, she managed to grasp it through her half-opened eyes.  As her hand brushed the envelope, Remus held his breath in anticipation, waiting to see if she’d notice.

She didn’t. Anything besides the juice she was chugging, it did not matter. Feeling disappointed, he went back to the kitchen, leaving the container on the table for her to refill her glass. Taking the eggs out the fridge, he began preparing some eggy bread for them both. The mornings were usually very silent for the first half, Cyra drowsy and connecting herself back to reality, Remus enjoying his morning tea. But today was not any other morning, and the wizard was dying for her to notice the letter.

As the eggs cooked, he spared a glance to his daughter, her curls nesting messily around her head. Her hair had definitely deepened with time, turning the shade of dark chocolate. At times, she looked exactly like Sirius, and those were the days it killed him. He’s mocked himself on how ironic the situation must have been, a child that was in no way related, but looked like the product of them both.

Noticing her eyes were now fully open, he shot her a smile before turning back to the pan. Similar or not, she was not Sirius’s child. No, she was his. And he adored her more than words could say. It was an honor to raise her, to watch her grow. And now he got to see her off on her next adventure of life. He had never been more grateful to Dumbledore than at that exact moment, if it weren’t for his insisting he take her in, he would have never known such bliss.

“What’s this?”

There it was. Hiding a smile, he spoke cryptically, “What is what? Perhaps you should open it. It is after all, addressed to you.” There was a moment of silence before he heard the sound of crinkling paper. Plating the eggy bread, he turned around to face her, seeing the excitement enter her eyes.

“PAPA!” She exclaimed, her head shooting up to look at him, now wide awake.  Feigning confusion, he placed the plate of food before her, “What is it? What could have you so hyper this morning?” Her response was to wave the letter before his face. Taking it, he placed his plate to the side so he could read over it. Once he was done, he jokingly raised a brow, “My, you actually got in. Before you were even 11, too. I was so sure they were going to hold you back a year.” Cyra stuck her tongue out at him, not taking offense to him poking fun at her.

Pleased to see her so happy, Remus folded the letter back, motioning to her plate, “Eat, I’ll go ahead and send our confirmation that you will be attending. After, we can begin to get your school supplies, and your owl.” At that, she ate her breakfast quickly.

Even after years of the sight of Diagon Alley, never before had it seemed so entrancing. Cyra was in a state of awe as she witnessed others performing magic effortlessly in the streets. Remus did not complain when she lagged behind, waiting patiently ahead. The potion supplies they acquired were wrapped tightly up in parchment, charmed to be small enough to fit in his bag. Next was her robes and wand, though he supposed she would want to get her wand first.

Leading the way to Ollivander’s, he didn’t miss the skip in her step as the sign came into their view. Pushing open the door for her, Remus allowed Cyra to enter first, the bell ringing to announce their arrival. As she looked around, a loud thud came from the back, followed by a shout.

“Ah! J-Just a moment, please!” The posh accent came from behind the scattered shelves of wands. IN the blink of an eye, the owner appeared before them, a man with a head of wild white curls. Straightening his suit out, he motioned out to them with a thin hand, “Welcome to my shop, please excuse the mess. How may I assist?”  Cyra stepped forward, taking his hand first and shaking it carefully, “Pleasure to meet you sir. May I have a wand?” Her polite tone took him by surprise, a smile forming on his worn skin.

“But of course!” He declared, whipping out his wand, “Let us begin! If you do not mind, Mr. Lupin, I’ll need a bit of space for us to begin.” Taking his cue, Remus sat at the comfortable seats in front of the shop’s windows.

With a simple flick, a tape measure flew out from the back, before it began measuring around Cyra’s arms. Mr. Ollivander took her hands in his, examining each palm before lifting her right arm out. “Right-handed, correct?” He questioned, though there was nothing but sureness in his tone. Cyra simply replied with a nod, watching him with curiosity.

Taking the tape measure from the air, he looked over it before tossing it behind the desk, “Pah! As I thought, the measuring is always off! Small you may be, but a wand that is only 9 inches will not suit your character!” Cyra had not a clue what the older wizard was about, watching him as he took her hand once again to look at it.

“What is the ultimate goal of life?” Ollivander whispered the question, looking at her with intense silver eyes. Thinking about it for a moment, she answered, “To love and to be loved.” For a moment she feared she had given the wrong answer, if there even was a wrong answer.

“What stops you from achieving true happiness?”

He was causing her to feel very unsettled by his stare, as if her own expressions could give him the answer. Focusing on the question, she battled with herself to find the answer. Would it be revenge against that monster Fenrir? To never see another kid like her to suffer? Would it to be normal? The silence grew in the shop as she thought carefully over his words.

Ollivander was waiting patiently, his thumbs running over the lines of her palm as if they would unravel and spill her secrets. “What stops me..” She began slowly, her eyes meeting his, “Is me? I stop my happiness?” He seemed satisfied, no more questions as he stepped away to go over to the shelves.

As he skimmed though each tag, he explained, “I find that using a measuring tape is crude in practice. The idea that a wand’s length should be based on the length of the witch or wizard’s wand, is a child’s logic. It fails to take into account many other, important considerations.” His words hung in the air for a moment before he continued, “Like personality, values.. and the possibilities of their future.”

Cyra felt very invaded, now coming to the realization that he seemed to have looked right through her. Turning around to look at Moony, she saw him lounging with one of her books in his lap, not a care in the world. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had to go through this as well.

“Here we are!” She jumped at the intruding voice, turning back around to give her attention back to the wandmaker. Ollivander carried some boxes with him as he made his way back to her. Once they were placed on the table, he took the first wand out and placed it in her hand.

Cyra observed the wand, turning it over for a moment before going to give it a flick. Nothing happened. The wand was then snatched out of her hand replaced with a much lighter one, it felt like she was holding a leaf. She instantly didn’t like it. Without even needing to give a flick, the wand was taken.

They were in the shop for some time, but Ollivander never gave up. As he shuffled through the wands, he seemed to muttering to himself, “Very difficult. Emotional, controlled, but needs reliability.” She was a bit offended, feeling as though he was speaking of her. Remus at this point was watching the pair, curiosity peaked.

Deciding to break Ollivander’s orders, she marched her way in, crouching down next to him to help. When the wandmaker turned to her, her explanation silenced him, “Maybe I can draw it to me.” It was then he lit up, lurching from his place on the floor and racing over to a shelf.

“OF COURSE!” He exclaimed, “How could I have been so blind!” He snatched the box from the shelf, ushering Cyra back out from behind the desk. A bit thrown off, she moved back to her original place. Once the wand was placed in her hands, she felt goosebumps form on her skin, as if she was in ice cold water. This was it. Without hesitation, she flicked her wand at the book that laid on the shop desk. It was sent flying to the floor.

Mr. Ollivander was nearly dancing with glee, clapping his hands together, “Marvelous! I made that wand 20 years ago, I’m so happy it has found its home.” She turned it over in her hands in admiration, taking in every detail. It was a dark wood, longer than she had imagined, going down into a silver handle that held some glass bulb at the bottom. Inside of the glass was yellow and white petals, suspended as if frozen in air.

“12 inches, Hazel Wood, with a Dragon Heartstring core.” Ollivander said, sounding satisfied, “Hazel is a perfect fit for the owner in touch with their emotions, but also in controlling them. Be very careful losing your temper with this wand, as it will absorb the energy you give off, and may spark off unexpectedly.  Hazel is a wood that is very devoted, even in death, it will expel all of it’s magic and wilt. Never to perform again.”

Cyra absorbed the information as it spewed from him, listening intently. Ollivander began to tidy up the boxes as he continued, “Dragon Heartstring is for very powerful magic. Suitable for witches and wizards who perhaps are a bit more temperamental.” Cyra ignored the muffled laughter from behind her.

“But, it will become very attached to it’s owner, bending to their will. It will not fight you.” She was satisfied with that, lifting the wand up to the light to watch the petals float around in their crystallized ball, “What are the flowers for?”

That seemed to perk the wandmakers curiosity. He came over to check it, attempting to access the memory of when he had crafted this wand, “I believe a muggle flower, daffodils. A young girl came in here with them, she was muggleborn and wished for me to have one as a thank you. I didn’t know what to do with it, so I decided to use the kindness she imbued in the flower to place into the wand.”

Cyra hugged the wand to her chest with a smile, satisfied with the answer.

“You got it right?”

“We got ours earlier-”

“Came before breakfast-”

“But mum wouldn’t let us open them-“

“Until we ate-“

Cyra raised her letter to silence them. Fred and George ran to embrace her, trapping her in the middle where she couldn’t escape.

“It’s not fair!”

The trio turned to look at the twin’s little brother, Ronald. He was sitting on the ground, his arms crossed over his chest as he pouted. She could only spare him a pitying smile before the twins launched into their usual teasing, only further irritating the poor boy.

 “Awww, it’s okay Ronny-poo!”

“You’ll be able to join us soon, just need about..”

“Two years?”

“Unless your letter gets lost.”

“Or they find out you’re afraid of spiders.”

Letting out a sigh, she pushed them both away, “That’s enough, he’s going to cry.” Ron rubbed furiously at his wet eyes, “Am not!” She gave a nod, pretending to believe, “Right, my mistake.” Leaning in to give him a hug, she whispered so the twins could not hear, “Don’t listen to them. They were terrified your mum told the school not to let them in. Since they’re such troublemakers. Almost cried, the both of them.” That was a lie, but it made him smile. Which was enough for her.

“Right, stop hogging her!”

With that, they hoisted her up away from Ron.

“Yeah, Ronny-kins! Don’t be getting a crush on her, she’s ours!”

Cyra watched tiredly as Ron’s smile disappeared, the tips of his ears turning red. She wondered for how long they would continue this possession of her, like she was a prized trophy no one could touch. A part of her feared it would end once they arrived at Hogwarts, the two getting distracted by new friends to talk to. For now, she would allow herself to be selfish and enjoy it.

“Do you think they’d let me bring my Bon Jovi poster?”

Remus spared a glance at said poster, raising a brow at the smolder and leather jacket, “What do you see in him? He’s much older than you, you know.” He supposed a crush on a muggle rocker was better than a crush on the boys around her.

“His hair, it’s pretty.”

He resisted the urge to laugh, placing the folded socks in her luggage, “You’re not wrong, but I think we should leave it here.” He heard her sigh of defeat before she went back to packing. Glancing up once again to the poster, his lips quirks up in appreciation. His hair was very pretty.

“Right, got everything?”

Cyra gave a nod, raising her luggage and cage for him to see. Inside the cage was a sleeping cinnamon screech owl, a soft pink blanket covering it so the train station’s lights wouldn’t disturb him. Remus was a bit thrown off when she appeared with the auburn owl on her arm, it was a bit smaller than the other screech owls, its pure black eyes staring blankly at him. It was a bit creepy, he had to admit. But Cyra adored him, said he was precious and even named him before he was paid for.

Biscuit, that was his name. Because apparently to Cyra, he looked like a little biscuit.  Her names really hadn’t improved, but he wouldn’t dare tell her. His name was Biscuit, and that was final.  

Looking back at her, he managed a shaky smile, “Well.. this is it then, huh?” He had feared this day, having to let her go. Seeing through his attempts to seem fine, she quickly wrapped her arms around his midsection, “It’s not it. I’ll be back.” He felt the tears form as he held her closely, “Yes. You’re right.”

This was good. She had to grow up someday. He would see her again, for Christmas, and then after the school year. Running his fingers through her curls, he allowed himself a moment to just cling to her. He knew once he got home, she wouldn’t be there waiting for him. He would be alone again.

“Promise you’ll write me the moment you get to your dorms. I want to know how your sorting went, and how you’re doing.”

She understood what he meant by that last bit, and it was something that did frighten her. She would no longer be at the cabin where she could openly snap and transform. She would have to be careful, concealing herself from whoever her housemates were.

“I will. I promise Papa.” 

She would be okay. She had to be. Dumbledore wouldn’t let anything happen to her, or to his students.

As she boarded the train, she let Fred and George lead the way to a compartment, her heart beginning to beat frantically. This was it. She was going to Hogwarts. Her throat closed up as she heard the twin’s scream, racing to the compartment they had entered, trying to scent any blood in the air. What greeted her panicked state was them soaked to the bone, a bucket laying on the ground beneath their feet, and a dark-skinned boy laughing at them.

“Sorry about that!” He pushed the locks that had fallen over his eyes, “I had seen some Slytherins roaming around, thought I’d get in a little prank.”

That won the twins almost instantly, taking his hand with identical grins.

“Nice to meet you-“

“No worries about it-“

“We needed a lil wake up call-“

“Slytherins you say?”

Cyra watched as his eyes darted between the boys, his brows furrowing in confusion as he tried to keep up. Attempting to calm herself, she let out a shaky greeting, “I-I’m Cyra. Cyra Lupin. This is Fred and George Weasley.” The boy looked at her next, as if just noticing she was there, “Oh, hi! I’m Lee Jordan!” She gave a nod before turning away, going over to retrieve her abandoned luggage as they all talked among themselves.

As she picked up Biscuit’s cage from the floor, she whispered an apology to the disgruntled owl. She really needed to be careful. Her instincts had taken over, and she had allowed it. As if she actually had control over it. Gripping the handle of her luggage, she felt her shoulders begin to tremble.

Could she actually do this? What was she going to do about showering? She was going to share a bathroom with others, they would see her scars, or worse, her bite. She’d be feared. They would look at her like a monster. She didn’t know how Moony handled this, the covering up, the fear. She could hurt someone. She could hurt Fred and George.

“Cyra?”

She flinched as her shoulders felt a weight, spinning around quickly to face them. There they stood, staring at her worried. Fred was the first to come forward, rubbing her arm comfortingly, “You alright?” She couldn’t speak, her lips pressed tightly with fear. Next was George, wrapping his arm around her back to pull her into his embrace, “It’s going to be okay. I know you’re scared.” 

They couldn’t possibly understand.  They just saw her as a girl scared to go to school, not the one that was keeping the monster at bay. Still, she couldn’t help melting into their touch. Fred came behind her, pressing himself so she was trapped between them. He whispered into her ear, his voice softer, “We’re not going to leave you, Cyra. You’re our best friend. We love you.” There it was, the sob that broke her silence. Burying her face into George’s shoulder, she began to shake in their arms.

They didn’t know the true reason behind her tears, but they held her and whispered to her like they did. That was enough for her. She was selfish, and she would enjoy this for as long as it lasted.

Sorting was downright terrifying, she clung to the boys, her hands grasped in each of theirs. Lee was already sorted, Gryffindor, much to the other’s joy. She was next. As she went through the crowd, she caught Charlie waving at her from his place at the table. She shot him a weak smile before hurrying up the steps to the stool where Professor McGonagall waited.

The older witch looked down at her, her stern face forming a small smile, “Nice to see you again, Ms. Lupin.” The girl responded by ducking her head in embarrassment, “Hello, Professor.” She climbed on the stool, taking a quick glance at the crowd before blinded by darkness.

‘Ahhh, hello..’

The sorting hat, it was speaking to her, but it was all inside her head. Did that mean it could read her mind?

‘Yes child, I see everything. No worries, I will not divulge your secret. Just as I did not divulge your adopted father’s.’

She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding, feeling much more relieved.

‘Now, let us see. You have a very bright mind, very clever. But you are much too sensitive to be placed in the snake’s den.’

She scrunched her nose at that, why was everyone insinuating she was emotional? She had a very good grasp of her emotions.

‘Ah, a temper too. A well-known trait among Gryffindors, they tend to go forward very brazenly. But you do not seem the type to jump into danger without thinking..not unless..yes..’

What? What was he thinking? Also, she did not have a temper!

‘Not unless your friends are in danger, yes? You would not dare to harm a fly, unless it was someone who threatened those you care for. You would go farther than a Gryffindor, perhaps even maim.’

Before she could speak, he cut her off.

‘That’s not a thing to be ashamed of. You are protective of the ones you hold dear. The kind of love you would kill for. You are a companion many would want on their side. There is only one place I can put you. Your loyalty knows no bounds, so it better be..’

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The table of yellow and black erupted in applause, the hat being lifted from her head so she could take them in. Her heart was pounding, head reeling from the sorting hat’s words. How could he see so deeply into her?  Willing to kill?

As she reached them, she was pulled into a familiar embrace. The smell of bubblegum overtaking her senses and calming her, hugging the figure back, “Hello Tonks.”

“This is so wicked! I knew you were Hufflepuff material!”

They pulled apart, the older witch smiling proudly down at her, “I missed you so much, gal!” Cyra watched as her eyes unknowingly changed to the amber color of Cyra’s, “Thank you, I missed you too.” Tugged over to sit next to the sixth year, feeling the weight leave her shoulders as she felt safer having someone she knew there.

She felt her heart-break, watching both Fred and George heading over to the Gryffindor table. She knew this was likely going to happen, but it still hurt. She was grateful they sat next to Charlie, so they were still within her view.

As the food appeared, she waited for others to fill their plates, not wanting to be rude. Startled when a pile of potatoes was smacked on her plate, she looked up at Tonks who was holding the spoon. The witch simply smiled back, going to grab some food for herself. She supposed that was a nudge to get some food.

As she piled her plate with meat, she made sure to place some sides so she didn’t look suspicious. She was very ravenous. Moony had said she had an endless pit of a stomach, though he was just as bad. The man could devour a whole chocolate cake in one sitting. It was the high metabolism, one of the only benefits of being a werewolf.

She tried to limit herself, not wanting to seem suspicious. Though, after she got her second plate, she realized that no one was actually going to say anything. They didn’t seem to even notice the abnormal appetite. For the first time that day, she completely relaxed.

He shouldn’t enter, it would only hurt more. He had already eaten the cake she had left him, the entire thing. He probably should have paced himself, but he was depressed, and that was a good enough excuse.

Using that as an excuse again, he pushed open her bedroom door, scent of lavender surrounding him. His pup. That was his pup’s scent. Tearing up, he rushed over to her bed, grabbing a pillow so he could hug it to his chest and pretend she was still there.

He didn’t realize how much he needed her. How cold the house would be, without her warm laughter. Or how much he would cry. This was miserable, letting your child go. She was his little sunshine. If James were still here, he was sure he would be mocked now. Though James would be doing the same thing once Harry left.

Sirius would be there with him, comforting him and understanding, because he would know how much of a joy their daughter was. His throat bobbed uncomfortably, gripping the pillow as he realized where his thoughts just led him.

No. Cyra was not Sirius’s daughter.  They did not raise her together. He lost that chance when he betrayed the Potter’s. Sniffling, he raised his sleeve to wipe at his eyes, he would rather be alone. He could only hope that Cyra would never know that pain, of being abandoned and betrayed by the person she was supposed to trust. Her own mate.

Looking around the room with red-rimmed eyes, he managed a weak smile, looking over all the pictures on the walls. She had grown up so fast. Something was missing, however. A space empty, the imprint still there.

“I thought I told her not to take it.”

“Who’s that?”

Cyra’s head swiveled around to her housemate, Sarah French, a muggle born first year. How did she not know of a muggle rocker? Hopping down from her bed, she admired Bon Jovi in his glory, pinned above her nightstand, “This is Jon Bon Jovi, or Bon Jovi for short.  He’s a muggle rock star.”

The girl admired him, her cheeks turning a bit flushed, “Oh.. my parents never let me listen to rock music.  Said it was the work of the devil.” Cyra turned to her with wide eyes, “How did they take you being a witch then?” Her response was a sad smile, “Not very well. They’re Christian, you see.”  Cyra nodded in understanding, her father was one of those. He wasn’t as extreme, but he did have difficulty understanding her mom’s world.

Sighing to herself, she went over to Biscuit’s cage, unlatching it so he could roam free while she wrote her letter to Moony. She described her train ride, the sorting, and how Tonks had made her feel very comfortable in her new house. Which, she really did. It definitely was not as bad as she had expected. She was still waiting for the others to sleep before she could go for her bath, but no one questioned her on it.

Once the letter sent, she looked at Bon Jovi once again, admiring him in his handsomeness.

“His hair is too pretty to be the work of the devil.” 

Chapter Text

Tonks was kind enough to wait up for her that morning, guiding her through Hogwarts to the Great Hall. On the way, she explained where most of her classes would be, and some shortcuts she could take. She did her best to remember all of it, but knew that it would be no use.

As they entered, her gaze went over the red heads at the Gryffindor Table where their laughter echoed in the hall. She could see Percy turning red from something Charlie had said, his face beginning to scrunch up in anger. Beside him was the twins, poking and prodding at his shoulders to try and push him over the edge. Bill ignored the pleas of his brother, pretending to be distracted by his head boy badge.

“You could just go over there.”

Snapping out of her daze, she turned to Tonks, “What?” The teenaged witch gave her a knowing smile, “To the Gryffindor table?  There’s no rules saying you can’t.”  Sparing the table another glance, Cyra shook her head, “No..I don’t want to-“

“OI WEASLEYS! GOT ROOM FOR TWO MORE!?”

Too late. Tonks was now shouting across the hall, gathering the attention of the boys. Once they were waved over, Cyra was dragged over to the table by Tonk’s impressive strength. As they came to a halt, Cyra was stolen away by the twins, placed in between them at the table. She finally felt normal, the feeling of them pressed on each side giving her some comfort.

“How was your first night?”

She looked over to her left at Fred, smiling sweetly at him, “It was good.” George tugged on her arm, stealing her attention, “Was everyone nice to you?” She responded with a nod. They seemed to visibly relax. Were they worried about her?  Before she could ask, the smell of the bacon that Fred placed on her plate made her stomach growl. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until now.

As they continued to chat her ears off, she began piling meat onto her plate. She still had a good two weeks before the next full moon, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t eat.  She was a growing girl after all. Biting into her sausage, she listened to the conversations all around her. Tonks was joking around with Charlie, saving poor Percy from his torment, though it left him free to ramble to anyone who would listen. How he found the ministry so interesting was mind-boggling to her. It wasn’t even the fun stuff like what his dad did, but rather, he enjoyed politics. Tuning out of that immediately, she looked up at Fred, finally paying attention to what he was saying.

“So, we thought to ourselves, what would be better for our legacy?”

Licking the grease from her lips, she tilted her head in confusion, “What?” He shot her a look before motioning over to his brother, “George?” Spinning around to face him next, she saw the glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

“We’re going to get detention. Today.”

She was somehow even more confused, furrowing her brows at him, “Why?” Feeling Fred grab onto her shoulders, she didn’t bother to turn around as he whispered, “Because what better way to set our impressions than a detention on the first day?” She still wasn’t sure what impression they were trying to set.

“So,” She turned away from them both to face her plate, “What are you guys going to do?” She picked up a piece of toast, spreading some jam on top of it.

“You guys?”

“You mean, what are we going to do?”

There it was. Cyra bit into her toast, trying to ignore both of their stares as she chewed.  Of course, she was going to be an accomplice. As always. A part of her wished she just listened to Percy talk about Fudge’s campaign for Minister of Magic.

Taking her silence as her giving in, both boys cupped a hand over her ear before they began whispering their plans. The other Weasley brother’s took notice, but did nothing to save poor Cyra from their clutches.

Once the plan was discussed, and Cyra knew her part, she continued to eat her breakfast as if nothing was wrong. They were at least considerate to make sure she wouldn’t get caught in this. Unlike them, she did not desire to have detention on her first day.

Tonks made eye contact with her, raising her pink brows with a cheeky grin. Pausing mid-chew, she stared back at her, confused why the teenager looked so pleased.

“Ah, there are my missing Hufflepuffs!”

Forcing herself to swallow her food, she turned around to see her Head of House, Professor Sprout. She was a very kind woman, always smiling and radiating this comforting feeling. Giving her a shy smile, she reached up to take her schedule, “Sorry Professor Sprout..” Professor Sprout gave her head a soft pat, “No worries, me dear! It’s good to fraternize, become friends with other houses!” Once Tonks got her schedule, she was off, trotting out of the hall.

Glancing down at the paper, it was a breath of relief to see she had at least two classes with the Gryffindors.

The twins shared a look before looking away, George choosing to speak first, “So, since we won’t be seeing you very much in class..” Cyra’s head perked up as he spoke, giving him her full attention. “Do you want to maybe sit with one of us in class?”  

Fred was next, picking up where he left, “I’ll already see his ugly mug in every other class. Might be nice to see a different face. We can trade off.” Cyra blocked George from hitting his brother, thinking about their words, “Trade off? Like.. you sit with me in one class. George sits with me in the other?”

Humming in agreement, they waited for her answer anxiously. Cyra was unable to resist a smile, “Yeah.. I’d like that.”  

“Great!”

“I call Herbology!”

“Okay- Wait! That’s our first class!”

Cyra decided to let George get his hit in this time, knowing there was no use stopping their quarrels once it began.

“I ought to hex your nose hairs blue!”

“Try it! I’ll make your feet huge! Or huger than they already are!”

Letting out a sigh, Cyra went back to her breakfast, disappointed that it was now cold.

Entering the Greenhouse, the first year’s eyes were wide with wonder at the flowers and plants that covered the walls of the classroom. Cyra felt she could tell which ones were Professor Sprout’s favorite, because an exact copy of them were in the Hufflepuff common room.

Coming to take a spot near the middle, Cyra ignored the argument between the Weasley brothers. After taking out her book, she slid her bag under the bench before sitting herself down. Soon she was joined by Fred, who just dropped his bag onto the table.

“Well this is nice, isn’t it?” He began, looking around at all of the plants, “Very.. green.” Cyra laughed, shaking her head at him, “Green? Really?” He smiled, not caring that she was laughing at him. Before he could retort, Professor Sprout entered.

Clapping her hands loudly, the classroom quietened down. Satisfied, she gave them all a bright smile, “Good morning class! I am so excited to see a fresh crop of little sproutlings! Welcome all to Herbology! If you do not know what that is, Herbology is the study of magical and mundane plants and fungi. Now I know what you must be thinking, ‘Plants? We’re learning about Plants?’”

Cyra couldn’t resist smiling at her Head of House, listening as she gave her speech.

“But no, my dear little sproutlings! For plants are much more useful than you’d think!  Many plants provide ingredients for potions and medicine, like ones that you find brewed in Professor Snape’s class. Other’s have magical effects of their own that have many different uses. If placed in the wrong hands, they could cause some serious damage.” Her tone got a bit more serious at that part, looking around the room, “So we must be sure they are placed into the right hands. And to do that, we need to lay out the ground work! Fertilize the mind so we built our roots!”

With that, she turned to the table behind her, sliding a leather belt around her hips, “Now, do not take this course lightly. This is not a subject for those who are squeamish, so be prepared. Today, though, we will be going over your tools! Please turn to page 10 of your books, and we will read through them!”

Cyra opened her book with the class, turning through the papers till she reached the page. Professor Sprout took out a pair of gloves, holding them high above her head, “Let us begin with the protective tools, starting with, dragonhide gloves! Now, before I see any tears, these are humanely sourced. Only taken from dragons who passed away from natural causes.”

With that, a pair of dragonhide gloves appeared on top of each of their books. Cyra took hers with interest, looking them over as Professor Sprout continued, “Dragonhide is very tough, as well as being resistant to spells. Thanks to this toughness, it is perfect for using in Herbology, for anything that may burn or bite, it will not penetrate the hide.”

At that, she heard Fred mutter, “What’s going to bite us in Herbology?” Glancing over, she saw the little bit of fear enter his eyes. Taking the chance, she leaned in to whisper, “Funny you pay attention to what is going to bite us rather than what is going to burn us?” At that, he shuddered, quickly sliding on his gloves.

“Next is your mask! Now, you won’t always need these, but it will help for those times when we are near any plants that will exude fumes or scents. Some may be noxious or even toxic, can be very harmful to your health.” Cyra watched Fred as the mask appeared before him, stifling her giggle as he quickly put it on. A quick glance over the table showed her that while George looked just as frightened, he wasn’t donning himself with the tools.

Class seemed to pass by very quickly as they went through the very many tools they would be using. They were notified to be sure to leave their ties and cloaks at the door, as it could become a hazard later. Cyra found it much harder to restrain her laughter as Fred was now tugging the tie desperately off of his head.

Once they were set with the task of reading the chapter of tools, Cyra placed her tools off to the side. She waited for Fred to calm down, opening her book and beginning to read. Once she heard the dragonhide gloves smack onto the table, she glanced over. He was flustered, his face red with embarrassment at his actions. He refused to look at her, his eyes turned down so his red hair covered his gaze.

“Fred?” She whispered quietly to him, trying to get his attention. But to no avail. Letting out a sigh, she scooted herself closer to him so her shoulder was pressed against his. Sliding the book over into his view, she tried once again, “Wanna share a book?” At that, she finally saw his face turn to hers, the mortification clear on his face. She pretended not to notice, smiling at him.

“Yeah.. I’ll turn the pages.”

With that, they settled into a peaceful silence, reading together until the end of class. George approached them with his bag tossed over his shoulder, “Okay! Enough hogging her! We’ve gotta get to Magical Theory!” Fred scoffed, taking his bag from the table before facing his twin, “Very well, you’re the one that has to wait until two thirty to sit beside her!”

“Not true! We’ll see her at lunch!”

“Ohhh, so just until twelve then. That’ll only be about two more hours!”

Ignoring them both, she packed up her things, hopping up from the bench to shuffle past them both. After a moment of deliberation, she turned back to give them each a hug, “See you both at lunch. Bye!” With that, she was off, leaving the brothers who were now silent.

It took a while for her to reach the Astronomy tower, once she reached the top, she was out of breath. She was confused why she was required to have a telescope with her, but she supposed it was for this class. Looking out at the bright sky, she felt her breath catch as she realized how beautiful the daytime was.

She had only really known the night. It was cruel, dark, but freeing. It was the bringer of torment, but also hid away the horrifying sights that the sun would only illuminate for the public.

“You’re Lupin, right?”

Dropping her telescope, she spun around in a panic, “W-What!?” There was a boy behind her, he was her age, golden brown hair and a shy smile. Bending down, he picked up the fallen scope, before handing it back to her in apology, “My bad, didn’t mean to spook you. I was going to speak to you during Herbology, but you were sitting with the Gryffindors.”

Seeing she was looking at him confused, he shoved his hand out to her, “Again, my bad! My name is Cedric Diggory! I’m a Hufflepuff, like you!” Cyra released the tension in her shoulders, she took his hand, “Cyra Lupin, though you already know my last name?” He seemed bashful at that, stepping back a bit, “Well..I mean, I just..you looked really cool during sorting.”

Cyra blinked at that, “Cool?” He then pointed up at his lip, “You’re.. well your..” At that, she touched her lips, feeling the jagged scar beneath her fingertips. “Oh,” Quieter now, she looked away, “Um..thank you.” Cedric watched her, realizing how rude he had come across, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know if it was something personal..”

“No.” She interrupted him, “No, it’s not. It’s a stupid story, really.” He seemed to take this a cue, “Well, hey, I’d love to hear it sometime! My dad always said that the ones with scars are considered warriors!” Cyra felt her lips turn up at that, she wasn’t sure she would be considered a warrior for losing focus on levitating a knife.

“Wanna sit together on the cushions? We’re supposed to be having class with the Ravenclaws, and they kind of intimidate me.” Cedric offered, motioning over to the silk cushions that sat on the stone flooring. Feeling much more comfortable around him than a stranger, she gave a quick nod, “Yes, I’d like that.”

Their teacher was much different than Professor Sprout, she was instead very stern, looking down at them with an all-knowing gaze. Once she spoke however, she was very calm, “Good morning, I am Professor Sinastra. Now, this is the only time you will be seeing my class in the daytime. From now on, you will be meeting here on Wednesdays at nighttime, so we may observe the stars. Today, however, we will be going over the basics.”

The rest of the morning seemed to go on like a blur, she spent her break with Cedric, listening to him as he chatted about how excited he was for their flying class. He was a huge Quidditch fan. Moony wasn’t a big sports fan, so she never really got into it. She still pretended to be listening to him, not wanting to be rude.

Once they reached the Dining Hall, however, she politely excused herself so she could join the Gryffindor table. Once she was in the space between the twins, she set about filling her plate, “How was Magical Theory?”

“Who’s the pretty boy?”

It wasn’t often the boys spoke in unison around her, and it wasn’t often concerning to her. But the tone they both used, it was enough to make her put down the ladle and address them both.  “I’m sorry, what?” She looked at Fred first, but his eyes were locked ahead. Deciding to try his brother next, she learned it was no help either, as he was just the same. Finally looking to where their gaze was, she put their words together.

“His name is Cedric.” She answered, taking note that they seemed to be radiating more heat than usual. George was the first to look at her, the frown clear on his face, “And what is he?” She understood immediately this time, smiling sweetly, “A friend.” Hearing the scoff behind her, she whirled around, waiting for Fred’s smart response. However, he said nothing, staring back at her.

“He’s a friend.” She repeated again, though she now was the one frowning. Fred fought to keep his face calm, but his ears were already turning red with frustration. “Just a friend?” He started, his eyes narrowing at her.

Okay, now she was very confused. What did he mean by that? Cedric was her friend. Just like they were hers. Deciding it would be better to simply settle the matter, she replied, “Yes. Just a friend.”

While this seemed to be a satisfying answer, they were still looking unhappy. Cyra looked away from them both, “I’m sorry.” At that, she went back to filling her plate. She didn’t like upsetting the twins. She hated it when they went quiet. It always caused her to blame herself, gave enough time for the inner voice to remind her of her worth. How she was very lucky that the twin’s cared so much for her.  

Trying to hold back the tears, she took in a shuddering breath, plating the potatoes quickly. As the silence grew between the three, the great hall was still lively. The air felt like it was suffocating her, cutting off her airways. She was awful. She should just be happy with the boys. They were all she ever needed. They probably felt like she was replacing them. She upset them.

As the thoughts grew louder, she became more reclused into herself. She didn’t notice the worried look the twins shared. Even as they tried whispering to her, it didn’t enter her world. She felt their touch, her body anchoring itself to them as they wrapped their arms tightly around her.

“We’re sorry..hey..”

“We were being prats, that wasn’t fair to you.”

She sat there, her body trembling against theirs. She was making a scene, and she hated it. Usually, she could retreat back to her room at the cabin, but now she was out in the open for others to see. The curtains were pulled back. She missed Moony.

She couldn’t tell which one of their hands was running through her hair, but it was bringing her back down. She felt like a mess. Another hand soon joined, carefully scratching at her scalp. That had to be Fred. She remembered the time she had to get her leg snapped back into place, and he scratched at her scalp to distract her.

Feeling fingers carefully tuck her curls behind her ear, she choked back another sob as she recognized it as George. She didn’t want others to see her cry. He seemed to understand that, turning her quickly so he could hug her to his chest, hiding her face from the world.

Fred was whispering something into her ear, it was comforting, though she still couldn’t distinguish what he was saying.

No one looked at her, and if they noticed, they simply thought she was homesick. It was very normal for some first years to cry. Once she was back to reality, she tried to pull away, but the boys refused to let her.  Instead, George held her close while Fred filled up her plate with different meats and her favorite sides. Cyra felt like a child, though she didn’t speak up. As each of them held her hands, she realized she was unable to eat.

They had noticed, but instead of letting go, tried a different technique. Cyra’s eyes widened when George picked up her fork with his free hand. Absolutely not. That was where she drew the line. Taking her hands away, she carefully took the fork, “I can feed myself.” He seemed disappointed, but didn’t object.

Since they couldn’t hold hands, they decided to saddle up right beside her, almost squishing her between their shoulders. Deciding to let them have this, to let her have this, she just began to eat.

Potions was definitely a very intimidating event, Cyra witnessed for the first time how terrifying Professor Snape could be. She had to keep correcting herself in her head not to call him Mr. Snape when she spoke. It was going to be a hard habit to break. Hagrid didn’t seem to mind when she called him it at the boats, but she knew better to address the Professors by their titles.

“I don’t want to hear at the end of this class that you do not know how to chop, mince, or crush your ingredients. The very basics of Potions is this. I will not have you brewing any kind of concoction until you can steady your hands and adjust temperature without burning your fingertips.”

Cyra listened intently, feeling a little bit excited as he taught, she always loved to play on her play potions set. It was just like baking. When Professor Snape had passed her table, he gave her a quick glance, before moving on to the next.

Once they were set with the instructions, she snatched up her scalpel and began cutting to the instructions on the book. They were currently working with wax forms, practicing their cutting before they moved on to the next thing. It was just like cutting baking chocolate.

She prepared her first one in the cuts the book demanded, forcing herself to take her time so it was perfect. Next wax form was to be minced, then other was to be crushed into a powder. Soon she finished, placing her cutting board before her, her chest swelling with pride.

As she looked around the room, she noticed others were struggling. One student slammed the knife down on the board, sending the wax form flying through the air. Professor Snape stormed over to them, his eyes baring down into their souls, “If you wish to lose your fingers, please attempt that somewhere else besides my classroom. I do not have the time to clean your blood from my floors. Nor the patience that you so obviously lack.”

Oh dear. Cyra felt her gut clench as he turned around to her next, stomping over to her desk. Picking up the board, he examined it with a straight face. Swallowing thickly, she waited, looking up at him worried. Once their eyes met, Professor Snape stared stoically, his eyes sharp like a knife.

“Well. A Hufflepuff who isn’t useless. That’s a first.” 

Was that a compliment? She simply waited as he placed down her board, whipping out his wand and vanishing her work, “Now, work on a beetle. It’ll be a different texture, take your time.” At that, he turned around, “The beetles will be on the shelf, bottom left, take out three and then return to your desk.”

She followed his commands, her stool squeaking against the stone floors as she stood up. She walked quietly over to the shelf, her heart pounding within her chest. Was she doing a good job? She couldn’t actually tell.

When class had finished, he had yet to review her beetles. As the other students packed up, she was unsure if she should leave as well. They filed out quickly, leaving just her and the Potions Master. After a moment of silence, he spoke, “Bring it over to my desk.” At that, she hopped up, walking carefully over to his desk. She didn’t want to drop the board and spill out her work. Once it was placed, she let out a breath of relief.

Professor Snape looked up from the parchment he was grading, looking over her board with a raised brow. Cyra awkwardly stood before the desk, shuffling her feet as she waited. His gaze was just the same, piercing and judging.

“It seems..” He began, “Your hobby of baking has paid off.” At that, she furrowed her brows, looking at him in surprise. Did that mean she did it? He looked up at her with a solemn gaze, “It’s a shame you can’t brew your own wolfsbane.”

With a gasp, her legs went weak and gave out beneath her. Grabbing onto the desk to steady herself, she quickly stammered, “I-I’m sorry?” He watched her, his eyes piercing into her, “Are you apologizing for being a werewolf?”

She felt the tears form beneath her eyes, letting go of the desk and letting herself slip to the ground. This was it. Her first day. It was fun while it lasted. Sniffling, she brought her sleeve to wipe her eyes, too terrified to speak.

“Greyback did it?”

She said nothing, her silence giving him the answer he was looking for. Letting out a sigh, he pushed his chair closer to the desk to look over it, “Enough moping, Ms. Lupin. Headmaster Dumbledore told me.” He what? Looking up at him quickly, she blinked back the tears, “W-What?”

His gaze seemed to soften as he looked down at her, “He told the staff about this. So we will be able to excuse not only the nights you are gone, but also to help you.” Standing up, he went over to the locked cabinets behind him, “I brought up wolfsbane not to shame you, but to surprise you. Professor Dumbledore has stocked my cabinets with plenty of ingredients so I will be able to brew you wolfsbane each week before the full moon.”

Cyra watched as he took out a vial with shimmering blue liquid, “Wolfsbane?” That was impossible. Moony had tried to get his hands on the ingredients after it had been invented, but they were ridiculously expensive.

He brought the vial over for her to observe, placing it carefully in her hands, “You will take this every night before the full moon. It will allow you to be in control of yourself even after transformation.” As she looked at it in awe, he continued, “Professor Sprout will guide you out of your common room the night of, and escort you to the Whomping Willow. There you will stay for the night, and since Professor McGonagall only has evening classes, she will be the one to escort you back. From there on, if you have any injuries, you will be brought to Madam Pomfrey to be treated. Then you may be excused to rest for the day if you wish.”

Cyra was hanging on to every word, looking from him to the potion in her hand, “I-I..” It was plucked out of her hands, before being placed back into the cabinet, “It will not be tasty. You cannot mix it with anything or else it will not work.”

She could only nod, sitting on the stone floor in shock, “So..everyone knows?” Professor Snape stared down at her, “The Staff, yes. No students know, if you are worried about the Weasleys finding out.” She couldn’t believe this. They had all treated her so normally. How could they be so nice?

“Now, don’t you start crying again! I’ve had enough of sobbing first years for one day. Just gather yourself and head to your next class, I believe Professor McGonagall will be wondering where you are.”

Realizing she was going to be late, she quickly gathered herself from the floor, “Right! Sorry!” As she went to hurry out the door, a parchment was blocking her gaze.

“A permission slip. She will know what we spoke about.”

She thanked him, smiling brightly as she stormed out of the classroom.

Professor McGonagall wasn’t mad at all for her being late, taking the slip with a knowing smile before shooing her to her seat with George.

Once she was settled in, he questioned her, “What happened? You missed the first ten minutes!” She turned to speak, before she realized she couldn’t actually tell him what was going on. Coming up quickly with an excuse, she blurted out, “Professor Snape said I was gifted at potions. Gave me some extra work to do.”

He looked shocked at that, “He did? He was right nasty to all of us this morning. I don’t think anyone was anything more than ‘importunate buffoons’.”  She gave him a pitying smile, “I’m sorry.” He shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. After all, Fred and I were the ones who tried to play daggers with the scalpels.” Her eyes widened, no longer feeling sorry for her friends, but instead for Professor Snape.

As McGonagall went over the basics of Transfiguration, Cyra found herself too distracted to pay attention. George was scribbling something frantically on a piece of paper, taking a moment to pause before scratching it out and then beginning again. Curious, she looked over casually, attempting to read his messy scribbles.

Squinting her eyes so she could see, she whispered to him, “Does that say something to do with a toilet?” He spared a glance to Professor McGonagall to be sure she wasn’t looking, before scooting himself closer to Cyra. Sliding the paper over so she could see, he whispered back, “We’re adjusting the plans a bit. Instead of doing something that could get you caught, we’ve changed the destination to the second-floor girl’s lavatory.”

Capable of reading the paper, she let her eyes skim over it, “So..you’re going to be stealing the toilet seats?” He gave an affirmative nod. She resisted the urge to scold him, pushing the paper back, “What are you going to do with them after?”

“We’re going to owl them to Dumbledore at dinner.”

Before she could stop it, her loud laugh gained the attention of the class. Feeling the eyes on her, she forced herself to sit upright, noticing Professor McGonagall was staring as well. “Well,” The Professor began, “What, Ms. Lupin, is so humorous about Mr. Hewett being stuck as a frog due to incorrect transfiguration?”

“Uhm-“ She swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the pressure as it built on her, “Well, that at least he didn’t croak?” A few giggles came from the students, but Professor McGonagall was still sternly staring her down, “Right. Well, perhaps we should be a bit more serious when discussing life threatening issues, and save the puns for later.” As she turned away, Cyra caught the small smile the Professor tried to hide.

 As they continued, Cyra opened up her book, attempting to at least pay attention this time. But to no avail, as a piece of paper was tossed onto the pages. Shooting a quick glare at George, she snatched it up quickly, unraveling it to reveal the message.

‘When class ends, we all meet by the lavatory. You’ll be the lookout.’

Being sure no one was watching; she scribbled her response back before tossing it over to him.

‘Understood.’

At that, they worked in silence, keeping up the image of being model students. Or at least, Cyra was.

Cyra shuffled her feet as she looked around the halls, her heart thudding loudly in her ears. She had no reason to be so nervous, she couldn’t smell anyone approaching. Still, she was an accomplice to breaking a school rule. Though, to be fair, she didn’t know if this even was in the school rule book. Leave it to the Weasley Twins to create a new one.

Pushing her hand on the door, she cracked it open a bit, whispering, “Are you guys almost done?” The door was then thrust open, revealing them both soaked to the bone, with identical mischievous grins. Looking over them with wide eyes, she took in their states before speaking, “Um..Myrtle?” They did not need to give a response, the girlish giggle that echoed from within answered her question.

Before she could speak again, she was presented with two toilet seats, held in the hands of the boys as if they were trophies. “Okay!” She clapped her hands before snatching up her bag from the ground, “You guys go change and mail those, I’m going to go on inside.” At that, they took her hands, shaking them firmly before rushing off.

Cyra looked down at her wet hands, before wiping them on the wall with a shudder.

Chapter Text

The week had begun off fine, she had felt a surge of confidence, a pep in her step. In class, she was much more active, raising her hand and answering like a proper student. Outside of class, socially, she was a little butterfly. Flitting between people and speaking on different topics with a bright smile.

The boys had definitely enjoyed it, considering she was helping them with plotting their upcoming pranks, and seemed much more willing. Not just that, but she was much more affectionate with them. It was strange, but they knew better than to complain.

After class with Professor Snape, Cyra stayed behind and waited patiently for her dose of wolfsbane. This was going much better than she had expected it would. The potion was disgusting, but she knew it was better for her tastebuds to suffer if it meant she would have control. She was still nervous about what would happen when the full moon came that week, but she had plenty of time till then, so she’d enjoy this while it lasted.

After she took a swig of the vial, she was sent away to her next class. She didn’t notice Professor Snape’s stare as she exited, calculating and almost waiting.

The next day, she woke up feeling a bit more tired than usual, but still felt pretty okay. Buttoning up her uniform, she set out about her day. She had a light class schedule today, so she’d find herself to visit Hagrid, maybe have some tea.

I wouldn’t dare touch those horrid biscuits though. She giggled to herself, before she froze. That wasn’t her. That was her voice, sure, but it wasn’t her. She wouldn’t think something so mean about Hagrid. After a moment, she didn’t hear anything else. Deciding to shrug it off, she continued on her way. For the rest of the day, there were no snide comments, so she figured it must have just been her having a mean moment.

She ate the biscuits though, as a way to apologize to the unknowing Hagrid.

“COME ON LUPIN, YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE!”

Honestly, can they hear themselves? Sounding like a bunch of shrieking birds. Cyra’s eyes were open, staring up at the canopy above her bed with furrowed brows. Even as her roommates rushed out, slamming the door behind them, she paid no mind.

Something was wrong. Sitting up, she rubbed her tired eyes, trying to focus. She needed to get to her classes, having already missed breakfast. The twins must have been worried about her disappearance. Or they probably haven’t even noticed, too busy with their new friend Lee. Cyra felt her heart sink at the thought, her hands dropping onto the bed. They had been spending a lot of time with the boy, but they still tried to make time for her. Plus, with them spending time with him, they didn’t cause another fit about her spending time with Cedric.

Allowing that to raise her spirits, she pushed open the curtains to face the day. The very blinding day, causing her to wince and shut her eyes. I could just stay here, would anyone really notice? No, they definitely would. Hopping up, she hurried over to the vanity in the room, snatching up her brush to quickly snag through the curls.

As she looked around, trying to ignore the pain in her scalp, she caught the poster for Hufflepuff her roommates made. Tomorrow was the first game against Slytherin. I’m going to have to listen to Cedric droning on about Quidditch today.  Her head shot up to face the mirror. That was not her thoughts. She didn’t enjoy Quidditch as much as Cedric, but she would never say that about him!

A horrified gasp left her as she saw how bright her eyes were, like shimmering gold. She looked like a predator in the night. I am a predator. Gulping, she steadied her hands on the vanity, the brush tumbling from her fingers and onto the floor. Sitting herself down, she did her best to take in deep breaths. It wasn’t so obvious that they would be able to tell. She was fine.

Plus, they aren’t exactly the sharpest brooms in the shed.

“SHUT UP!” She shrieked, hitting the vanity with her fist, causing all of the cosmetics to spill onto the ground. She began to pant, gritting her teeth as she tried to calm the burning pain in her chest. Everything was going great, why was this happening? Why was she hearing voices? It wasn’t like she had a separate personality. Unless.

Looking back up the mirror, she stared intensely at her reflection, waiting for something. Anything. But nothing happened. She looked the same. Well, despite the glowing eyes. Still, it did nothing to settle her nerves. Something was seriously wrong.  And she needed to speak to Moony about it.

At that, she rushed over to her nightstand, snatching out a quill and parchment before frantically scribbling a letter. If she sent it now, she’d have an answer hopefully by the midday. Once Biscuit was sent out with it, she got herself ready and headed out the door.

As she entered Herbology, she apologized quietly to Professor Sprout for being late before taking her seat beside George. They often switched places in class, she paid no mind, knowing it was their quirky way to prank the teachers.

“Hey, you okay?” He whispered to her, looking over her with furrowed brows. She managed a nod, shoving her gloves on quickly, “Yeah, absolutely.” Keeping her head down, she motioned to the book he had open, “So, what are we doing today?” He didn’t press her any further, beginning to explain what she missed.

During the class, she did fairly well to keep her cool. She felt George’s scent had something to do with it, it almost had a drugging effect for her. Inhaling the smell of oranges, she felt the clawing in her chest cease. When he spoke to her, she did her best to pay attention, answering with short responses before getting back to work. The entire time, they did not once make eye contact.

Once she was in the hallways, the feeling returned, hitting her full force. Stumbling to grab onto the wall, she gasped for breath, it felt like her ribs were on fire. Digging her nails into the stone, she felt the anger flood through her veins. Anger at her situation, at having no answers. Students passed her, paying no mind to the scene she was causing.

As usual. Always so selfish. They’ll never understand. Biting down a growl, she forced herself back up onto her feet. Going in the opposite direction than her class, she forced her curls to cover her face. She needed answers, and now.

Reaching her destination, she knocked impatiently on the door, letting out angry puffs of air. As it swung open, she didn’t bother to say hi, instead she barged right in.

“Miss Lupin, while I am sure your father didn’t bother to teach you manners, you must at least have the basic skill to say hello.”

And he should have the basic skill to shampoo his greasy hair. Cyra groaned, holding her head as she sat down in an empty seat, gritting out, “Hello Professor Snape.” He watched her with furrowed brows, before taking her hands away, “Look at me, child.”  As soon her eyes met him, he seemed to have a moment of shock before schooling his features.

“Tell me, Miss Lupin, do you feel angry?”

A scoff left her, taking her hands from his grasp, “Angry? I feel like I see nothing but red!” She clutched at her chest, trying to take deep breaths to calm herself. He said nothing, going over to the cabinet and plucking out the vial of wolfsbane, before placing it before her.

Glaring at the blue vial, she pressed her lips tightly together, “Are we sure this is helping? What if it’s making it worse?” He said nothing, staring down at her, almost seeming worried. Hearing no response, she allowed herself a self-demeaning smile before she popped the cork off and downed it.

As she gagged and coughed, he took out his wand, whispering something before sending a wispy blue smoke out of the room. Once she had calmed down, she sat there, waiting. But the burning was still there, the anger was still there. Feeling the tears prick behind her eyes, she looked up at him with panicked eyes, “Why am I feeling this way!?”

Professor Snape let out a sigh, looking away, “I don’t know, Miss Lupin. The wolfsbane has helped your eyes diminish, but I am afraid that is all I can do.” That was it? She stared at him in shock. He was supposed to be able to help her. He was the Professor. Why is he so useless? She gritted her teeth, trying to will her own thoughts away.

“I can’t do anything else for you, but someone can. I’ve called your father here; he should have gotten my message by now.” He continued, watching as she visibly relaxed at the mention of her father. Letting out a shaky sigh, she looked away from him, “I hope so..”

And he was. Before she could speak again, he was stumbling out of the floo, the green flames chasing him. He paid no mind, pushing past Snape to get to his pup. As she was seized up in his arms, she felt the tears streak her cheeks, “Papa..” He shushed her, petting her head comfortingly, “Oh Cyra, it’s okay. I’m here.”

He was shaking, clinging to her like she was his lifeline. Panic seized her, the worst thoughts crossing her mind. Was she dying?! Pulling herself away, she stared at him worried, “Papa, what’s wrong with me?” Remus could tell right away what she was thinking, grasping her cheeks with his hands, “Shh, you’re okay. I mean that, Cyra. I can explain what’s happening to you. It’s all normal.” At Professor Snape’s scoff, he quickly corrected it, “For us, I mean. For people like us.”

Cyra swallowed thickly, panting out, “Werewolves, you mean?  For people like us, werewolves?” He gave an ashamed nod before continuing, “I had thought we had time to talk about this during Christmas break, or perhaps when you turned thirteen, but it seems to be beginning now.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head against his hands, “W-What is happening to me?” Remus watched her, his eyes as kind as always, “You’re feeling angry. Like something is burning inside, trying to claw its way out?” She nodded, “Are you hearing any voice?” At that, her eyes shot open, looking at him in shock. He really did know what was happening.

“Yes!” She replied in excitement, “I’m not crazy? It’s so mean, the voice, it’s like it wants me to be angry at everyone.” Remus nodded along, smiling sadly at her, “Yes, I know that well. That’s your wolf speaking to you.” Cyra looked at him strangely, waiting for an explanation. She’s been a werewolf since she was six and she had never felt this way, or heard voices like this before. She was irritable, but never to this degree. Why now?

“You see, the reason I had thought this would come later is cause..well.” He trailed off, glancing over at Snape uncomfortably, “Well. Because it would mean you’re going through puberty.” Cyra was so confused, and even more so when Professor Snape seemed to cough, looking very embarrassed.

“I’ll give you both the room, Lupin. I do not believe I should be here for this.” Professor Snape cut in, not even allowing Remus a word in before he hurried out, the door shut quickly behind him. Once it was just them, Cyra piped in, “What is puberty?”

Taking a seat at the other desk, Remus looked away uncomfortably, “Well.. um. It is a stage where you begin to grow..into a young woman.”  She gave a slow nod, trying to wrap her head around this, “That’s why my wolf is coming out?”

“Kinda.” 

“Kinda?” She repeated, staring at him. Remus seemed to squirm, looking at anything but her, “Your wolf comes out when you begin to hit sexual maturity..” Cyra let out an irritated growl, narrowing her eyes, “Papa you need to explain! I don’t know what any of this means!”

He couldn’t help but pity her, she must have been terrified this morning. Finally facing her, he gave her a weak smile, “You’re right, I’m sorry.” With a clear of his throat, he began, “Okay, so, typically puberty happens differently for boys and girls. I underestimated the time limit for you, because as a boy, I went through mine much later.”

She nodded slowly, listening intently to him. “You may have noticed that you and the boys are very different. You have different parts.” He motioned to her, waiting for her response. Cyra understood this, nodding quickly, “Yes! They don’t have boobies!” He choked back a laugh, nodding along, “Very good. Well, they have different parts down there too. And that is your reproduction parts. Both used together, can create a child, which is called reproduction.”

Cyra was sucked in now, staring intensely as his explanation seemed to reveal so many answers she had before but never asked. “So,” He continued, “In order for you to have a child, your body has to go through sexual maturity. Girls happen a lot sooner cause there is a lot of stuff that must happen. For instance, the budding of the chest. I explained that to you when we got training bras earlier this year.”

Cyra glanced down at her chest, staying silent. Remus took no notice, “The next thing would be growth of body hair, and then..well.” He gulped, forcing himself to remain calm, “A period.” Cyra was confused at that, she had never heard of that before. What was a period?

Seeing the question on her face, he explained, “A period happens because of changes in hormones. These hormones cause your uterus lining to build up, and it waits for a fertilized egg, but because there isn’t one, it will then shed. You will see some blood, that is the lining. You will feel discomfort, or perhaps some painful cramps, but there are things to help assist it. Along with sanitaries to help capture the blood.”

Once he finished, he waited for her reaction, feeling his heart break when he saw the fear in her expression.  She had her arms wrapped around her abdomen, looking at him with wide eyes, “That sounds awful..” He nodded, smiling sadly at her, “Yes, but it only lasts 5 days a week, and happens once a month.” As he said that, he realized how awful it did sound. She was going to have to deal with both a period and transforming once a month?

She seemed to understand this, the horror clear on her face, “B-But.. that’ll be a while, right?” At his silence, she gasped, “Or..is it about to happen now? Is that why the wolf is appearing?” Remus couldn’t do anything besides nod, allowing her a moment to let it sink in.

Cyra stared down at her hands, the shame seeping from her. Why did she have to deal with this right now? She just got to Hogwarts, and was having such a fun time. Remus slid from his seat, sinking down on his knees before her, “Cyra?” He tilted up her chin to look at him, “Cyra, I swear you’re going to be okay. This isn’t the most pleasant experience, but I know you can get through it. I don’t know exactly when you’ll get a period, but I can help you through it, just like I’m going to help you deal with the wolf.  I’m in your corner, I’m with you.”

Letting out a shuddering breath, she nodded quickly, grasping at his sweater for stability, “So what do I do, Papa?” At that, he launched into explaining once again, “During this week, you’re going to be dealing with it. It’ll say things that you know you would never say, but you have to remember it is not you. You need to take breaks, time to breath. I always liked going outside and just breathing in the air. The wolf will enjoy it too, it feels more at home outside.”

Cyra listened carefully, remembering how she felt when she smelled George, “Can a person do that too? Calm you down?” Remus’s eyes lit up at that, “Yes, they can. You don’t feel angry with me right? Do you feel the burning?”

At that, she realized she hadn’t. There was no anger, no voice. Looking back at him, she smiled brightly, “No, I don’t.” Remus chuckled, petting her curls lovingly, “That’s because your wolf recognizes me. We’re family, a pack. Just like mine does to you.” Cyra felt her chest warm at that, though this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was nice. Remus was right, the moment she scented him, everything stopped. It wasn’t the same as the drugging feeling she had with George, but more reassuring, like he was capable of protecting her.

“So, what we’re going to do, I’m going to leave a sweater with you. You can carry it around with you in your bag, keep it with you and scent it whenever you need. That should help keep your wolf calm.” Remus took off his sweater, leaving just his button up on, before giving it over to her. She took it carefully, folding it in her hands, “Thank you Papa.”

“Anything for you, my little sunshine.” Remus responded, smiling sweetly at her. She ducked her head in embarrassment, though she still listened to him as he continued his instructions, “Now, if you feel like everything is too much, like you may explode, just walk out. It’s better for others to perceive you as rude than for you to lash out. Once you get through the full moon, you should feel much better. The wolf shouldn’t come out until the next one approaches. Also, eat plenty of meat and chocolate, it’ll help with the endorphins and mellow you out.”

Once they were finished, Cyra felt much better, though she was really sad when she had to tell him goodbye. After thanking Professor Snape, she was excused to go to the great hall for lunch. He promised her that he would explain her absence in Charms, so she wouldn’t get in any trouble.

As she entered the Hall, she made sure the sweater was stuffed out of sight before joining the Gryffindor table. As she took her place between the redheaded twins, she breathed in the scent of cherries and oranges, everything else seeming to slip away. She wondered if her wolf considered them to be part of her pack as well.

As Fred pulled her into a side hug, she stared at him in a dazed gaze, trying to pay attention as he spoke to her. “Did you get sick again? George and I were really worried when we heard you didn’t show in Charms.” He scratched at her scalp, trying to comfort her, but she wasn’t sad at all. She was so comfortable. Smiling up at him, she wrapped her arms around his mid-section and gave him a soft squeeze, “I’m fine, thank you for worrying about me.” The tips of his ears began to burn pink, but the rest of his expression didn’t seem to change. As they pulled apart, George took her next, laughing, “Where’s my hug then? I also worried about you!” Cyra stared at him in shock, before letting out a giggle and hugging him the same, “Here you go!” He grinned down at her, though his ears turned the same pink as his brother.  

The other Weasley’s and Tonks watched the trio curiously, knowing something was definitely different with Cyra. She didn’t often so openly show as much affection with the twins. In private, maybe, but not so proudly where others could see. They brushed it off as just her being more comfortable being at Hogwarts before digging into their meal.

Cyra made sure to fill her plate with as much meat as she could, hoping she could please the wolf that it would leave her alone for the rest of the day. No one said a thing, though Tonks did tease her when she took eight chocolate eclairs, claiming she was hogging them all.

The rest of the week was bumpy, but she still managed. By keeping the sweater with her, she managed to avoid many blow-ups. Though she did almost snap at Percy when he tried to hold his being a year above her as superiority. He tried to insinuate she should keep a better hold of the twins, as if she were their handler. She could feel the burning tearing through her chest as she opened her mouth to scream back at him, but before a single syllable left, she was pulled back into the embraces of the twins, their own shouts drowned out as she was instantly catatonic from their scents.

It seemed to be only them who could do that, that instant drugging effect. She was confused why they could do that, but Moony’s only kept her calm. She didn’t give it much thought, however, as the Full Moon approached.  

That morning, she could feel it, the wolf. Every breath she took, the smells of the world around her entered her nostrils. Everything was too bright, too loud. She managed to be excused from classes with complaint of a migraine, deciding to spend the day in the Infirmary with Madam Pomfrey. That evening, Professor Snape arrived with her wolfsbane, placing it on the tray of food that the Hogwart’s house-elves had brought her.

With that, he wished her a goodnight, before briskly walking out without another word. Dunking back the potion, she swallowed it down with a wince, then shoving a piece of bread in her mouth to try and get the taste out.

Once it was time, Professor Sprout arrived, standing by the doors as she waited for her. Cyra packed up her things, thanking Madam Pomfrey before she followed her Head of House out. Professor Sprout tried her best to hold conversation, “You know, I grew the Whomping Willow for your father. His first time witnessing it, he almost got sent over the courtyard. You’d be surprised how many people underestimate it, though it is a very impressive tree.” Cyra managed a weak smile, though didn’t say a word as they continued their walk.

Once they reached said tree, she glanced up at the darkening sky with worry. It wouldn’t be long before the moon appeared. After Professor Sprout disarmed the tree, she turned to Cyra with a pitying stare, “Well, my little sproutling. In you go.”

Cyra bit her lip nervously before slipping inside, her heart beginning to pound loudly in her chest as she followed the tunnel. Once she reached the shack, she looked around the place, the feeling that she might vomit growing intense. She could definitely tell why people thought it was haunted. The peeling wallpaper held claw marks, the furniture all in disarray. This was where Moony was sent when he transformed, where he suffered without wolfsbane each month.

Placing her bag on the ground, she decided to take out a book to pass the time. Settling on the torn couch, she began to distract herself with the different forms of potion ingredients and substitutes. Time seemed to fly by, though each minute that passed set her more on edge.

Once the shack was taken over by darkness, she tossed the book over to where her bag was, not wanting to lose it. It didn’t take long before the moon illuminated through the windows, the fear penetrating her heart before she only felt pain.

A scream split from her as she dropped onto her knees, tense as her bones set themselves on fire. It was then she realized she should have taken her uniform off. Panicking, she rolled onto her back, shakily trying to unbutton her shirt. Once she reached the middle button, her arms began to crack and break apart, Cyra seeing blinding white from the pain.

She couldn’t breathe, her throat going raw from her screaming, tasting nothing but blood. Her back arched off the floor as it grew, her nails digging into the floorboards and leaving marks. Once it was over, she was a panting mess. Her body was in so much pain. She curled up her body with a whimper, her eyes squeezed shut as she trembled.

She was still there. She didn’t black out. Opening her eyes, she wondered if it worked. Pushing herself up, she crawled over to the shattered mirror. In the distorted reflection was a brown wolf, the golden eyes glowing brightly in the darkness. Shuddering, she crawled back, another whimper leaving her. She was a monster. She didn’t know what she preferred, not having control and never knowing what she looked like, or this.

Stumbling around the shack, she managed to crawl up on a dusty bed, curling up in a ball. As she closed her eyes, she wondered how Moony was doing by himself. She knew it was lonely by herself, but he had the wolf with him. And it wouldn’t be kind.

When the morning came, Cyra was woken by the pain of her body shifting back, unable to move even after. She simply cried against the pillow, her body in so much pain. As footsteps entered, she attempted to pull the blankets over her, but could only manage the strength to get it over her legs.

“Oh you poor thing.”

She knew that voice, letting out a shaking breath as she forced herself up to face them, “M-Morning Professor McGonagall.” The older woman looked like she was about to cry, hurrying over to her, “My dear, let’s get you dressed.” She was a bit embarrassed as she had to be helped to get on her uniform.

Once they exited, Cyra squinted at the bright sunlight, clinging to Professor McGonagall to guide her. As they got in the halls, she looked around to see that no students were roaming the halls yet. It must be very early. Professor McGonagall spoke softly to her, “I’m taking you straight to Pomfrey. She should be able to fix you right up.” She nodded, her legs beginning to regain strength as they walked. She was so sore.

“Will I be able to return to classes?” She asked. Professor McGonagall shot her a look, “Do you feel up to returning to classes?”  At that, she looked away, thinking about her question.  She didn’t. But she missed Fred and George.

As soon as they were inside the Infirmary, she was whisked away by Madam Pomfrey, “Now what did you do to yourself! I swear if I see another scar, young lady, we will be having words!” Cyra let out a shaking laugh, allowing herself to be propped up onto the cot.

She said nothing as she was undressed, knowing Madam Pomfey was simply looking for injuries. “Oh! I knew it!” She exclaimed, “A scratch on your back!  Not to mention all of the bruises!” How did that happen? Her mind went back to the night before, remembering how she dropped onto the floorboards. She supposed the wood must have scratched her. Still, she was rather lucky she didn’t get cut from the broken glass.

“AND HOW DID GLASS GET INTO YOUR ANKLE!?”

She stood corrected. Glancing over at Professor McGonagall for help, she was disappointed to see her leaving, “She’s in your hands, Poppy.” Madam Pomfrey huffed, holding Cyra’s leg up so she could see the small shard in her ankle, “And be sure to tell Dumbledore to get that place cleaned up! Honestly!” Professor McGonagall took no offense to her tone, chuckling as she exited, “I will, as well as notify the youngest Weasley boys to spend some time with our dear Cyra. Perhaps that will keep them out of trouble, at least for a day.” Cyra felt her cheeks heat up when McGonagall sent her a wink before she was gone.

“Now, I don’t want to have to stun you, young lady. So don’t struggle!”

Cyra sighed, looking back at the matron, “I won’t, I pro-“ As she felt the glass being slid out, she began trying to squirm away, “Ow! No! No!”

“HONESTLY! IMMOBULUS!”

Chapter Text

“So, let me get this straight.”

Cyra leaned against the stone wall, looking at both Fred and George, who seemed immensely pleased with themselves. “You were caught by Filch after hours when you were planning on setting off dungbombs in his office. He then took you to his office to punish you, so you set off a dungbomb?”

George nudged his brother, “As if that’s all we did.” Fred snickered before presenting a large parchment to her, “We also nicked this.” Cyra took it carefully, looking over it, “You then stole from him?” At that, their grins grew.

“Well, to be fair.” George clarified, “He stole it first. It was in a cabinet labeled, ‘Confiscated and Highly Dangerous’.” At that last part, she gave it back quickly, “Dangerous? And you thought it was a good idea to take it with you?” Fred folded it up before placing it in his back pocket, “It seemed fine, hasn’t done anything yet.”

Cyra sighed at that, looking around the corridors for anyone who might overhear, “So what does it do?” At that, they shrugged. Her jaw dropped, “You don’t know!?” George sheepishly smiled, “No. But, we will figure it out!”

“Yeah!” Fred piped in, “We’ve just gotta figure out how it works!” Cyra didn’t feel too sure, but said nothing to discourage them, “Alright, might want to try a revealing charm first.” When their eyes grew wide, she realized her mistake. She was now an accomplice. She would have been anyway, but this time, she entered it willingly.

“A revealing charm, hadn’t thought of that, right Fred?”

“Right George. Leave it to our brilliant Cyra to come up with a solution.”

“That’s why she’s our partner in crime!”

Groaning, she pushed herself off the wall, “I’m leaving, I don’t want to be late to Potions.” They followed after her, grinning identically, “What other ideas do you have, oh mastermind?!” Cyra blew a raspberry at them before taking off into a run. They shared a laugh before taking after her.

“Mr Prongs would like to offer his great condolences to Fred Weasley for having the hair of a carrot.”

Cyra tried to stifle the snort that came from her as he tossed the map back onto the table in indignation. He touched his hair, now feeling self-conscious, “It’s not that orange.” Taking the map next, she watched the ink fade, “What if it’s just meant to insult people?”

“Nah,” George rested his head on his hand, looking at the map tiredly, “If that was the case, it wouldn’t have been labeled, ‘Dangerous’.” Well, she had to give them that. Turning it around to look at the back, she let out a hum, “It might have a certain spell or incantation you have to do.”

“But what?” Fred groaned; his face planted against the wooden table. At that, she shrugged, “Who knows. I’m sure we’ll figure it out though. For now, I’ve got to pack. Papa’s been excited for me to come home for Christmas, and I’ve got a ton of cookies to make.” As she pushed herself up, she felt them both grasp her arms.

“You’re going to come to the burrow though, right?” George questioned her, looking up with wide eyes. On her other side, Fred slid his hand down to take her hand, “We can’t spend Christmas without you, Cyra.”

Giving Fred’s hand a squeeze, she stepped away from the table so they’d let her go, “Of course I will. Papa has already agreed to us coming over.” Fred and George seemed pleased with her response, beginning to pack up their things with her.  Cyra shot them a look as she saw Fred putting the map away in his bag, “I’d suggest leaving the map though. We don’t know what could be in it.”

“Oh yeah, absolutely.”

“As if we would put our family in danger like that.”

“We would never. So little confidence in us, Cyra.”

She didn’t need to see behind their backs to know they both just crossed their fingers.

Taking one last look around the common room, Cyra let out a heavy sigh. She couldn’t help but feel a bit sad to say goodbye, even if it was just for a bit.

“Crazy, isn’t it?”

Tilting her head to the direction of the voice, she asked, “What do you mean, Tonks?” The teenaged witch threw her arm around her, blowing the pink curls from her eyes, “Well, me and Charlie only have one more year. Bill’s about to graduate, soon it’ll be us. Then we’ll have to say goodbye for the last time.”

Thinking about it, she felt a bit sad at the thought of Tonks leaving. She really enjoyed having the older girl around. Leaning into her side, she asked, “What are you planning on doing after?” Tonks let out a hum, resting her cheek at the top of Cyra’s head, “Well..there’s been talk about me joining the Auror’s. Apparently, my O.W.L.S were pretty impressive. They say if I pass my N.E.W.T.S next year, I’ll have a place in training.”

At that, Cyra pulled back so she could look at her, “You? An Auror?” Tonks smirked down at her, her eyes twinkling, “I know right? And Professor Sprout said I lacked necessary qualities to be a Prefect! Joke’s on her, though!”

Cyra couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking her head, “I think the joke’s on whoever will be training you!” Tonks took no offense, reaching over to mess up the younger girl’s curls, “Very true! But that’s for them to worry about! Now come on then, it’s time for us to leave. I’m sure Mr. Lupin is already at the train station, waiting for his precious little princess!” Cyra grabbed her luggage and followed after her, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Mum has already threatened that if Dad puts up that decoration, that he’d be sleeping on the couch, but I’m sure he’s already done it.”

Cyra hummed as she listened to Cedric rambles, though her mind was honestly somewhere else. Fred and George had already set off to search for Lee, wanting to say goodbye before they reached the station. Resting her head on the glass, she looked out at the passing trees, watching them blur by.

“One time he tried to charm it to be permanently stuck to the tree, oh she was right mad too.” Cedric snickered at the memory, glancing over at her to see if she was still paying attention. Noticing the distant look in her eyes, he let them fall into silence. He didn’t take any offense to it, Cyra was always peculiar, he found it to be rather amusing.

As time passed, Cyra finally took notice of the lack of his voice and glanced over, blinking slowly, “Sorry..I didn’t mean to-“ Cedric reached over to take her hand, smiling, “Hey, no worries! I’m sure you’re just excited to see your family again, I know I am! We just show it in different ways.”

Relaxing now that she was sure he wasn’t angry, she smiled back, “Thank you.” They felt as the train began slowing down, the sound of cheering echoing as they entered the station. Taking that as the cue to begin to get their things, they began to get up and gather them.

“Well Cyra, I’ll see you after Christmas!” Cedric gave her a side hug before hurrying off, trying to beat the crowd. It was good he did, as right after him was every other student that wanted to get off. Picking up Biscuit’s cage from the seat beside her, she made sure he was properly covered before heading out.

The twins stood off to the side with Charlie, watching as their mother blubbered over their eldest brother.

“You’d think he’s been sent off to war or something.”

“Did she forget we were also away?”

Charlie looked down at his brothers with a grin, “I wouldn’t complain, it won’t be long before you’re in that position.” That’s when he realized that Percy was missing, his brows furrowing, “Wait.. where’s our brother?” 

“He’s right there.”

“Being strangled by mother’s bosom.”

He sighed, “No, not that one. I mean Percy. Did you see him on the train?” Cyra spoke up from behind them, “I know where he is.” At the sound of her voice, they spun around. “He wasn’t with Wood when I passed by his compartment,” She continued, “But I heard him in another with Penelope Clearwater.”

The Weasley brothers looked pleased; but it definitely wasn’t relief they were expressing. It seemed to be much more sinister. Deciding not to get any more involved, she gave them a hug goodbye before setting off to find Moony. It didn’t take long, for right next to Mrs. Weasley was him. As soon as his eyes set on her, his tired expression lit up, “Cyra!”

She let out a giggle as she was scooped up in his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, “Hi Papa, I missed you!” Remus allowed himself a moment to enjoy her embrace before he put her back down. After looking her over, he gave her a smile and took her hand, “Ready to go home?” She squeezed it tightly, happy to see him again, “Yes!”

Remus leaned on the counter, watching Cyra bake with a content smile. She had her hair pulled up in a messy bun, causing her to blow at the curls that fell in her face.

“So,” He began, “Mrs. Weasley has invited us over to celebrate, as I’m sure you know. But that’s on Christmas Day, so I actually had something planned for Christmas Eve.”

She looked up at him curiously, pausing in her ministrations to give him her full attention. He gave her an excited grin, reaching into his shirt pocket before sliding out two tickets, “I don’t know if you knew, but a certain sequel came out on the first of this month.” He waved them around in the air, pretending to think, “If only I knew what to call them.. it’s at the tip of my tongue. The ghoul breakers? No, that’s not it. What do you call it? Or rather, who you gonna call?”

“GHOSTBUSTERS!” Cyra cried out, racing around the counter to give him a hug, “Thank you! Thank you so much!” He laughed, returning the hug, “It was no problem, love!  I’m excited to see it too!” He let her see the tickets before putting them away in a place where they wouldn’t be ruined by any of the mess in the kitchen.

Remus managed to get a glimpse of the cookies before they were sent into the oven, seeing the odd shapes they were cut into, “Are those gnome cookies?”  Cyra gave him a smile as she wiped down the counter for her next creation, “They are supposed to be house elves. I heard that in muggle tales, this Saint Nick uses elves to assist him in delivering presents. I felt the depiction of them to be rather ridiculous though.”

Remus fought a smile, “You did, did you?” He held the bin open so she could dispose of any egg shells or trash, “How so? I thought they looked rather cute, what with their red noses and jingly hats.”

Cyra shook her head as she cleaned, occasionally tossing some things in the bin, “No, they just look like a very small wizard with pointy ears. Nothing really magical about them. House elves are much more interesting. Professor Binn’s talked about them for a little bit during class, since house elves have their own form of magic.”

Remus shivered as he remembered that Professor, the droning voice still haunting his dreams, “Yes, how have you enjoyed his class?” At the look on her face, he laughed, “Yes, he’s not very..alive is he?” Cyra giggled, heading over to the fridge, “If by alive you mean actually alive? No Papa, he’s a ghost. A very boring ghost.” She began stacking jars of jam in her arms to carry, “If I have to hear one more time about the werewolf code of conduct in 1637, I might go mad.”

He snorted at that, shaking his head, “As if anyone would have registered themselves, it was mad!” Cyra gave a firm nod, placing the jars on the table, “It was a witch hunt.” He held his hand up, “Ah ah, Cyra, you won’t learn about Witch Hunts of the 14^th century until third year, and what an exciting chapter that is.” She rolled her eyes, heading over to the pantry next, “I’m sure it will be.”

“While we’re on the topic.” Remus felt himself get a bit nervous as he brought up the subject, “How was it? Your transformations?” He watched as her hands paused over the pastry. It took a second for her to move again, looking up at him with tired eyes, “It’s better. I’m in control and won’t have to worry about hurting anyone. But it’s also..”

He was concerned at her pause, sitting up straight, “What? What is it?” She looked down at her hands, running them carefully over to crimp the pastry on the sides of the pan, thinking about how to phrase her words. “It’s also terrifying. Being in that form. I didn’t know what I looked like until then, and now that I do.. it’s hard to forget.”

He watched as she continued to work, the air around them growing tense. He had always wondered what he looked like in his form. The others had told him, of course. But they were much more compliments than a description. He wouldn’t push Cyra to talk about it, he knew better.

“You were saying about house elves?” He changed the subject quickly, wanting to diffuse the tension. At the mention, she seemed to brighten up a bit more, “Oh yes! So you see, they’re actually related to Brownies! Very sensitive creatures, as are house-elves. After he mentioned them, I decided to do a little research in the library. Fred and George would usually complain, but they were much too into their own little project-“

Cyra was in a great mood from the moment she woke that morning, taking extra time in the bathroom to style her hair up in a high ponytail. Grinning at her reflection, she hurried down to the kitchen, a skip in her step.

Remus was waiting, double checking his satchel to make sure he had everything. Going over his mental checklist one more time, and making sure the tickets were still in his front pocket. Once Cyra appeared, he held out his hand to her, “Shall we, milady?” Cyra took one look over herself, though there was nothing she would be taking. She had to leave her wand in Moony’s care until it was time for her to return to school. Snuffles was left back in her room, not wanting to lose him on their trip.

Once she was sure, she took his hand, “We shall!” Since they were going to be going to a muggle cinema, they had to be sure to look like them. Of course, that was rather easy for them, attire wise at least. Her Moony always bought their clothes in muggle shops, including some vintage stores to get some band tees. From head to toe, they both looked like any average muggle.

Remus kept his wand in a holster attached to his arm, hidden by his sleeves, so no one would question why he was carrying a stick around. The only part Cyra wasn’t crazy about was transportation, they couldn’t simply apparate to the cinema, so in order to blend in, they had to take a taxi cab. Cyra had nothing against automobiles, but they were just so slow. If they flooed or apparated, they’d be there within seconds. But instead they had to plan ahead and get into a taxi cab early so they would arrive in time.

Since they were out in the middle of the woods, he still apparated them to a more discreet location in London. From there they would travel the muggle way. Once they arrived to the location, Remus paid the driver before helping her out, taking her hand and leading her inside. Once they got their popcorn and candy, the usher checked their tickets before guiding them in.

By the time the commercials had ended and the movie began, Cyra had already eaten half the bucket of popcorn, her fingers coated in butter.  She watched the screen intently, holding her breath as she watched the opening scene. As the music began to play, a smile settled on her face, her feet kicking happily to the beat.

The movie was fantastic, she was sucked in to the story.  She always loved Ghostbusters, even if their idea of ghosts was pretty silly. She didn’t think Muggles had ever seen real ghosts, since they definitely didn’t look like Slimer. Though she would like to see someone try to use a proton pack on Professor Binns.

Feeling a sharp pain in her stomach, she broke concentration with the screen. Did she eat too much popcorn?  Tapping Moony on the arm, she whispered, “I’m going to go to the loo.” He gave a nod, his focus still on the screen.

She hurried off, wanting to get back as soon as she can, though she knew he would fill her in on anything she missed. Entering the lavatory, she felt something dripping down her thighs. Panicking, she rushed into a stall, hoping she could get to the toilet before she had an accident on the floor. Once she had sat down, she saw it. Blood. It was all over her legs, and had seeped through her jeans.

Fear seized her, going completely still as she stared at the bright red on her skin. Looking at her knickers, she saw they were ruined as well. Was she bleeding internally? Covering her mouth, she tried to muffle her cries. The woman in the next stall heard her though, her voice echoing in the bathroom, “Miss? Are you alright?” 

Cyra didn’t know what to say, uncovering her mouth as she fought to form a sentence, “I-I’m..bleeding.” She heard the silence, before there was the sound of flushing and the woman stepping out to wash her hands. Was she going to call the muggle doctors? That seemed like the best solution.

“Alright honey, have you ever got your period before?” The woman’s voice was back, and it sounded like it was right outside her door. Standing shakily up on her feet, she struggled to undo the lock, peeking her head out to look at her. The woman looked like a film star, her stark blonde hair in a styled perm, her lips painted brick red.

“My period?” She repeated the woman’s words quietly, looking up at her with wide eyes. Then, a memory struck her. Moony had spoken to her about this, he said she would bleed and needed some sanitaries to catch it. But she didn’t have any, she didn’t think it would come so soon. Though she supposed it was bound to happen.

“Yes, sweetie. Judging by you looking like a deer in headlights, I’ll take it that this is your first one.” The woman responded, giving Cyra a reassuring smile before reaching into her purse, “I have some sanitary pads for you. I’ll tell you how to put them on.” She took out a lilac square before holding it out for Cyra to take. Once the door was shut, she guided Cyra through the procedure, and soon enough, she had done it.

Putting her blood-stained jeans back on, she stepped out, feeling mortified. The woman looked at her attire before giving her another reassuring smile, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll go get your parents, and they can help you get home. Who are you with?” Cyra found herself unable to hold eye contact with the stunning lady, whispering shamefully, “My Papa, he’s watching Ghostbusters II.”

“Good, and what does he look like?” She asked, needing some description so she could pick out the man. Cyra bit her lip as she tried to remember what he was wearing, “He’s got light brown hair, a scar on his nose, and he was wearing a brown tweed jacket.  My Papa’s name is Remus. I’m Cyra.”

“It’s nice to meet you Cyra, I’m Helen.”

Remus began to worry when Cyra hadn’t returned after ten minutes. Sitting up, he looked around the theater to see if maybe she got lost getting back to the seats. He didn’t see her anywhere. What he did see, however, was a young blonde lady approaching him.

Once she got close enough, she whispered to him, “Are you Remus?” Confused, he nodded, unsure what this woman wanted from him. She seemed pleased to find him, smiling sweetly, “Your daughter Cyra is in the bathroom, she just got her time of the month. She’s a bit shaken up, as you can imagine.” Time of the month? It wasn’t a full moon yet though. Oh.

Remus lurched out his seat, quickly gathering his things before following the woman out, “I-Is she okay?!” He was trying his best not to shout, his heart pounding frantically in his chest. The moment they stepped out, he could smell the blood in the air.

Helen, as she introduced herself, seemed to think his state was amusing. She gave him a knowing smile, “She is fine. But her jeans may be too late to save.” He didn’t care about any bloody jeans, he was worried about his pup. Before he could rush inside, Helen pushed him back, “No, you can’t just rush in there. I’ll send her out, but I’m going to need your jacket.” Without question, he took it off, handing it to her.

He watched worried as she entered the lavatory, his hand gripping the strap of his satchel tightly. The smell of blood was intensely strong, and it frightened him. Once the door opened, he saw a timid Cyra, his jacket tied around her waist. Most likely to cover the stains. He took her quickly in his arms, hugging her tightly, “Oh love, I’m so sorry. I should have planned for this!”

She buried her red face in his shoulder, not wanting the world to see her shame. Helen stepped out from behind her, looking at the scene with a smile. As Remus was busy whispering apologies to Cyra, Helen had taken out a paper and pen from her purse, scribbling down some things on her notepad.

“Here.” She held out the scrap of paper to Remus, stepping back once he took it, “Take her home first and run her a nice hot bath. Then go get these. It’ll be everything she’ll need to get through this month.” Remus stood up, holding Cyra up with one arm, reading over the list. Once he was finished, he looked at Helen with wide eyes, “Thank you so much. For this, and also for helping my daughter.”

She shrugged him off, “Oh no need to thank me. It’s hard being a single father, my dad was one. He had to learn all of this himself with three girls, and that was a wreck. So, I’m happy to help.” She then walked around him so she could face Cyra, “Chin up, dear, this isn’t the end of the world. This means you’re growing into a young woman. This is a time to be proud. You handled it like a champ.”

Cyra looked up over Remus’s shoulder, giving Helen a weak smile, “Thank you for helping me. I’ll never forget it.” And she wouldn’t. If she ever met the woman again, she would be sure to repay her.

“Right, let’s get you home.” Remus said, waving goodbye to Helen before carrying Cyra out. Sighing against his shoulder, she apologized, “I’m sorry, we’re going to miss the film because of me.” Remus patted her back, “Don’t be, I can always get it on VHS.  We’ll watch it when you come home for the summer.”

“Okay! Let’s see here..” Remus looked over the list as he dropped the supplies onto the couch, “Heating Pad, check.” He held up the large pad that looked like a rice filled pillow, “I’m going to put a warming charm on it so it never loses its heat. Sanitary Pads, check!” He took out the pack, holding it up so she could see, “I got the ones with the flowers. Thought you might appreciate it. Then I have fluffy socks, and some caplets to help with the cramps.”

Cyra sat on the couch, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, watching him as he explained each item. Once he was finished, her eyes drifted to the other bag, “What about that one?” Remus picked it up, smiling softly at her, “Oh this? Well this is-“ He then turned it over, chocolate pouring down onto the couch, followed by some bags of crisps and the odd candy. Cyra let out a laugh as it formed a mountain of junk food.

Remus grinned at her, “Think that’ll be enough?” She giggled, taking a Cadbury egg from the pile and unwrapping it, “Maybe for a week.” He ruffled her head through the blanket, “I’m glad you’re happy.” He then reached into his back pocket and took out the pamphlet, “The lady at the store gave me this. It’s called, ‘Dad’s Guide: To help your little one when Aunt Flow comes to visit.’ It’s very informative. Though how she knew I needed it is beyond me.” She said nothing, nibbling on her chocolate egg with glee.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you feel well enough?” Remus worried over her, following her around the kitchen as she packed up the sweets she made. “Yes, Papa.” She answered without looking up, stacking another container up on the counter.

Remus hadn’t even gotten dressed yet, running a hand through his messy hair, “I-I just..” He racked his brain for an excuse to use, “What if you need to change? Or if you need to sit down cause of the cramps?” Cyra finally looked at him, a brow raised, “Then I go to the bathroom, and I’ll sit down?” She took out two cookies from the last container, popping one in her mouth before holding out one to him, “Papa, I’m going to be fine. I’m used to a little pain.”

He sighed, taking the cookie, “You’re right..” Remus shook his head, taking a bite before continuing, “I’m being silly, aren’t I?” Cyra smiled up at him, patting his hand softly, “No. But you will look silly if you show up in your slippers.” He looked over his attire with a laugh, noticing he was still in his pajamas.

“Right, just give me five minutes and then we can go.”

“CYRA!”

Cyra barely had time to place down the sweets on the kitchen table before she was stolen away. Letting out a laugh as a pair of arms dragged her into their embraces. Remus stepped off to the side, giving the trio their space, deciding to be nosy and see what Mrs. Weasley was cooking that smelled so good.

“We missed you!” George said, his head buried into her shoulder. Fred was nuzzling his head against her cheek, making her giggle, “We thought we might die!” Cyra resisted the urge to roll her eyes, hugging them back.

“OH and you’d think they would! Honestly! They spend five days without her, all spent whining about how they wish Cyra was here!” Mrs. Weasley complained as she entered the kitchen, swatting Remus’s hand away from the biscuits. Remus smiled innocently at her, holding his hand close to his chest, “Well, it's my fault, after all. I kept her all to myself. You’ll have to forgive me boys.”

He resisted the urge to laugh as he saw both boy’s expressions, showing they would not be forgiving. Fred took Cyra’s hand, tugging her out of the kitchen, “Come on! We have a lot to catch up on!” George took the other, falling into step with his brother, “Yeah! We never get time to ourselves, what with you always hanging with that Hufflepuff boy!”

Remus’s eyes widened at that, his head jerking in their direction, “What boy!?” They were already gone, leaving him in a tiff. Mrs. Weasley chuckled to herself, stirring the gravy in the pot, “Do you never tire of being the overprotective father?” He let out a sigh, relaxing his tense shoulders, “Nope, never. Especially not if it means keeping any grubby boy hands of her.” She tsked at that, pointing her wooden spoon at him, “You know you have nothing to worry about. Not until she’s a teenager. She’s already so darling, she’ll be a right beauty when she gets older. Fred and George will be fighting the boys off with every curse they have.”

Remus let out a groan at the thought, though he knew her words were true, “Don’t jinx me, Molly. If that happens, they’ll be the only ones around her.” He caught sight of the evil smile on her face as she turned away from him, “Would that be so bad?” He narrowed his eyes at her back, “Yes. I don’t want their grubby hands on her especially.”

She took no offense, humming softly to herself. Remus relaxed, now knowing the conversation was over. Reaching over to attempt to steal another biscuit, he finally recognized the tune she was humming.

“Absolutely not, Molly!” He hissed, biting into the biscuit grumpily, “My daughter will not become a Weasley. She’ll stay a Lupin till the day she dies.”

Cyra watched Fred as he began rummaging through his trunk, dodging the occasional toy that flew past her. George was scribbling on a notebook, his brows furrowed in concentration. She looked between the two, confused about what exactly they were doing. They dragged her into their room, talked about the things they all had done while home, before sharing some kind of look and hurrying off to gather their things.

Deciding the best course of action was to wait, she stayed seated on the floor, her hand pressed softly into her abdomen. Her cramps weren’t too bad right now, but the heat and pressure from her hand helped ease them.

“Okay.” George suddenly spoke, taking a seat beside Cyra, “So we’ve been trying to break down the secret. You were right when you said it was an incantation you had to say.” She looked at him in confusion before the realization struck her, eyes darting over to the object Fred pulled out from the trunk.

“I thought I said to leave it at Hogwarts!” She exclaimed, looking quickly behind them to make sure no one was going to come in. She still didn’t know if it was illegal or not.

“We were!” Fred defended, coming over to take a seat beside her, “But then George and I started thinking! And we realized we didn’t want it to fall in the wrong hands, so we decided to take it with us!”  Cyra let out an exasperated sigh, the object had already fallen in the wrong hands.

“So, what have you got so far?” She conceded, turning to George for answers. Pleased with her defeat, he began, “Well it seems the map has been giving little hints, though it’s more mocking. But we’ve come to the realization that maybe the way in is a certain phrase.” Cyra nodded along, looking over the list he had written down, “Uh huh..and you think open sesame is it?”  George shook his head, pointing at it on the list, “No, it’s Open Says Me, and it’s scratched out. So it didn’t work.” Fred sighed, staring down at the parchment, “We get different ones too. They’re like separate entities. Mr. Prongs, Mr. Padfoot, Mr. Wormtail, and Mr. Moony. All very funny blokes, though they know where to hit where it hurts.”

Cyra was lost in thought, the names swimming around in her mind.  Why did they sound so familiar? Oh! But it couldn’t be her Moony right? Reaching out her hand, she took the parchment from Fred, looking down at it, “Ms. Lupin would like entry please.” She figured they stated their names, so maybe just stating yourself worked. She watched as the words appeared, her breath catching.

‘Mr. Prongs would like to offer his condolences that Ms. Lupin seems to have inherited her father’s intelligence to think something as simple as introducing yourself would work. Good try, though.’

‘Mr. Wormtail would like to insist Ms. Lupin try harder next time’

‘Mr. Moony insists Mr. Prongs shut his fat mouth and offers his very curious advice to think about it more carefully before Ms. Lupin tries again.’

‘Mr. Prongs would like to insist he does not have a fat mouth.’

‘Mr. Padfoot would like to insist that Mr. Prongs does have a fat mouth.’

Cyra giggled as the different names argued amongst themselves, “Well that’s interesting.” The words slowly faded back into the paper, leaving it blank. “Isn’t it?” George replied, looking it over with interest. She nodded, handing it back over to Fred before standing up, walking over to sit on the bed to be a bit more comfortable.

“So it doesn’t just insult you..” She muttered to herself, thinking, “It’s like you said, Fred, separate entities. Like someone left a part of themselves.” Fred blinked at that, looking back down at the parchment, “You mean like their magic?” Cyra’s eyes widened as it struck her, hopping up, “Yes! Exactly like that! This is like the sorting hat!”

At their confused looks, she sighed, having to explain, “The Sorting Hat was created by Godric Gryffindor. He put part of his magic in it, and it became a magical object capable of consciousness! Like this parchment!” Their eyes lit up as it dawned on them, George speaking first, “So these are real people?” Fred stood up, rushing over to Cyra’s side, “Do you think we could get them to tell us the password?”

She looked at the parchment with a triumphant smile, “I don’t think we could, we are going to get them to tell us. I don’t appreciate Mr. Prongs insinuation about my intelligence.” George laughed with his brother, joining them in the huddle, “And how are we going to do that?”

“How are you going to do what?”

They leaped apart, Fred hiding the parchment behind his back as they faced Remus standing in the doorway. Cyra shot him a sweet smile, “Nothing Papa!” He narrowed his eyes at that, looking each of them over to see if there was anything that could give them away. When the result was nothing, his expression softened, “Okay. If you say so. Molly is waiting down there, food is ready.” Cyra looked back to see Fred shoving the parchment in the back of his trousers, hiding the top with his sweater, “We’ll be right there, Mr. Lupin!”

Remus gave them one last look over before stepping back out, his footsteps receding back down the stairs.  Once they were sure he was gone, they let out a breath of relief. “Right,” Cyra began, stepping towards the hall, “We better go eat.” George joined her, glancing back at his brother, “Fred, leave that in here. We can’t trust Mum won’t do a body search.” Deciding he was right, Fred took the parchment out, hiding it back at the bottom of his trunk.

“Alright, let’s see here! Ron!” Mrs. Weasley was a ball of sunshine as she gave out the presents. Cyra was situated between the twins, holding the boxes she was given, waiting her turn to open. Remus had told her that her present was waiting at home, so she would get it after they returned.

Once all of the boxes were doled out, Mr. Weasley motioned to them all, “Alright, dig in!” Cyra decided to open the smaller one first, seeing Tonk’s handwriting on the tag. Once the wrapping was off, she saw it was a jewelry box. Glancing up, she saw the teenage girl sitting beside Charlie, staring at her in excitement.

Feeling nervous, she carefully opened it, a gasp leaving her as she saw the necklace. Gold wiring encasing a yellow crystal that looked like sunshine. Looking back at Tonks, she whispered gratefully, “Thank you so much!” She grinned back at her, “Of course, love! I saw it in Hogsmeade and knew you would be perfect for it! It’s a Yellow Andara crystal. The lady at the shop said the wearer will be given very peaceful times, as well as quicker healing. I thought it was just pretty, and looked like sunshine. Like your name!”

Cyra flushed from her words, taking the necklace from the box and clasping it around her neck. The bigger box from Mrs. Weasley was next, she carefully untied the ribbon, not wanting to ruin it. Inside was a yellow sweater with a black ‘C’ on the front of it.

“Now I know what house you’re in, I wanted to do it in your house colors!” Mrs. Weasley chimed in, smiling down at her. Cyra smiled back, hugging the soft sweater close, “Thank you, Mrs.  Weasley.” On both sides of her was red sweaters being held up. Fred looked at his sweater that held a ‘G’, his brother doing the same.

Turning to his twin, Fred held out the sweater, “Here you are Gred.” George laughed, trading with him, “Thank you very much, Feorge!” Cyra spotted Mrs. Weasley’s guilt over the fact she mixed up her sons again. Wanting to cheer things up, she glanced over at Charlie, “Thank goodness you were a Gryffindor! We’d be pretty confused!” Charlie saw what she was doing, and joked along, “Now, little did you know, yellow is my color.” She laughed, making a scene by clutching at her sweater protectively.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I am stuffed!” Remus chimed in as they stepped out of the floo and into their cabin. Cyra placed her presents onto the armchair, pressing her hand on her stomach, “Yeah, I don’t think I could eat another bite.” He shot her a look, taking out his wand and accioing her heating pad and giving it to her, “Go rest on the couch, I’ll get the presents, okay?”

She shot him a grateful smile before going to her favorite spot. It was a very eventful day, but she couldn’t ignore the exhausted feeling she felt. Not now that she was finally home. Yawning, she kicked off her shoes, curling her legs underneath her. Remus reappeared with the presents floating behind him, moving his wand with a flick and carefully placing them in a small pile on the couch before her.

She looked over them all, noticing Dumbledore’s first, the bright starry paper giving him away. Remus took a seat on the other end, “They sent them earlier this morning. I suppose you should do Headmaster Dumbledore’s first, if just to save our corneas from the brightness.” She giggled at that, taking the obscenely bright paper off. Inside was model of the full moon, floating and glowing above a disk as if it were real.

Looking back at Remus, she asked him, “Do you think Headmaster Dumbledore understands the irony of this?” Remus chuckled, watching the moon spin around, “I am absolutely sure he does. And that is exactly why he got it.” Cyra let out an amused sigh, placing it to the side. At least she could admire the full moon without the fear of changing. It was definitely a nice thought.

Opening McGonagall’s present, she removed the paper to reveal a book. Reading the cover, she smiled, “Spells and Charms for the Young Baker.” Turning it over to read the back, her smile grew wider, “Harmless and simple enough to remain undetected for the underage witches and wizards.” Remus’s eyes bulged, taking it carefully from her, “Did Professor McGonagall just give you a loophole from the trace?!” Cyra laughed, placing the paper over in the pile with the rest.

Next was Snape’s, to which was very small compared to the others. But Cyra always loved to save his for last. Opening the small box, she stared at the bottle within, watching the shimmering purple liquid swirl around. Remus took the note that fell from the box, reading it out loud for her.

‘Ms. Lupin, while I am sure you are disappointed to see no sweets to stuff your greedy mouth with, I present you with something much more valuable. This is the extract from the Echo Angelroot, an ingredient used to create potions to assist with trauma and emotional outbursts. When extracted to its purest form, it can be used as a salve on the skin, just a few drops will bring the wearer a feeling of calm and soothe any stress. Next time you feel your little problem arise, and you are prepared to bite, put one drop behind each ear. It should help.’

Cyra stared down at the bottle, almost hypnotized, “That..is really nice of him.” Remus forced a smile, placing the note down beside her, “Very.” She then looked up at him with a small pout, “My mouth isn’t greedy though. I just like sweets. Nothing wrong with that.” His smile was genuine this time, patting her head comfortingly, “There there, I know.”

He gave his assistance to her when it came time to open his present, the size being much too large for the couch so it had to be sat on the floor. Once she pulled the flaps from the box, she stared down in it with wide eyes. Slowly, she reached in, taking out a worn brown bomber jacket, “Is..this..” Remus nodded, feeling a bit nervous, “It’s mine. Or, it was mine back in my school days.” He took the right sleeve, running his fingers over the full moon patch with ‘Moony’ stitched over it.

Cyra looked over it, taking in the scent of her father, but also the faint smell of others. At the realization how personal it was, she turned to him, “A-Are you sure you want me to have this?” His eyes looked sad for a moment as he looked it over, but it was gone within a flash when he turned to her, “Yes, Cyra. It’s rightfully yours. It may be a bit big, mind you, but I’m sure you’ll grow into it.”

She hugged it to her chest for a moment before placing it to the side and hugging him next.  Remus chuckled, running his fingers through her curls, “Now that isn’t all. There’s some more in there.” She took a moment to gather herself before pulling away, diving back into the box. Inside was not only a brand new apron, but also a poster.

Rolling it out, she gasped loudly, “You got me another Bon Jovi poster!?” Remus sighed, rubbing the back of his tense neck, “Yes, I figured it could replace that empty space on your wall. Remember where it went?” He gave her a knowing look, watching her squirm before he cracked a smile, “Besides, he looked pretty cool in this one. And his hair is still pretty.” Cyra giggled, looking back at the poster with a dreamy smile, “Yeah..it is.” After a moment, she furrowed her brows at the bare arms, “Wait..he has a superman tattoo?”

Remus leaned in to look, raising a brow, “Huh, guess so. Why, is that a deal breaker?” Cyra shook her head frantically, looking at him with a twinkle in her eyes, “No! He has a tattoo! That’s so cool!” For a moment, he looked down at Cyra and saw himself, starry-eyed over a pretty boy with long hair and tattoos. And that was not okay.

“Goodnight dear.”

Cyra softly whispered her response as he kissed the top of her forehead, “Goodnight Papa.” Once her door was shut, she stood there for a moment before turning her head to Dumbledore’s gift. The glow radiating from the moon gave a dim light around the room, allowing her to see as she stepped around to get to her bed.

She kept the jacket on, even as she curled up under the sheets, allowing the familiar and foreign scents to take over her senses. There was the deeper scent of her Papa, but it mingled so closely with the smell of cigarette smoke. She didn’t think her Papa was a smoker, but she didn’t know about his younger self. Reaching into the pockets, she felt the rough crinkled paper inside, piquing her curiosity.

Slipping it out, she carefully unfolded it in the dim light, squinting her eyes to read. 

‘Moony, I said I was sorry.’

‘Moony, please. I can’t stand you to be mad at me.’

‘Then you shouldn’t have done it.’

‘I know. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry, truly. If I could turn back time, I would make it so my dumbass self never played that stupid prank.’

‘That wasn’t a prank, Padfoot, it was attempted murder. And I would have been the cause.’

‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I wish there was something better I could say.’

‘I should hate you. I trusted you Padfoot. I trusted you and the others with my secret.’

‘I know. Prongs already gave me a right black eye for it.’

‘I had wondered where it came from.’

‘You were looking at me? I have spent all day trying to catch your eye.’

‘When you were talking to Lily. But that doesn’t mean I forgive you.’

‘I know, I hope one day you can. I love you Moony. I’m sorry.’

‘I love you too. Now pay attention to McGonagall.’

Cyra stared at her Papa’s handwriting, feeling a strange feeling of loss. Who was Padfoot? She had heard never heard him mention this person. What happened? What did Padfoot do to make her Papa so upset? Carefully folding it back up, she placed it into the pocket where she found it, pulling the sheets over her head.

While inspiring more questions, this at least answered one she had. Her Papa did in fact have something to do with the parchment the twins found. But she would be keeping that secret for now, along with her own.

Chapter Text

She’s done it, she figured it out. Why in merlin was no one here to witness her brilliance? She couldn’t even pat herself on the back, because what was the point if only she knew about it? Huffing, she tossed the notebook off to the side before rushing out of the common room. If she remembered correctly, Fred and George would be at Quidditch practice. They were so excited to be able to join once they entered second year, and ended up getting the positions as beaters.

Once she reached the pitch, she hurried over to where Fred’s bag was, beginning to rummage around in it. She was breathless from the run over, gasping for air as she fumbled her hands around in the sack. Once her hands made contact with the parchment, she let out a noise of success, pulling it out quickly.

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing lass?”

Yelping, she spun around, facing Oliver Wood who hovered above her on his broomstick. “Uh.” She stuttered, “H-Hello Oliver. Fancy seeing you here.” He raised a brow at that, “Fancy seeing me? Practicing with my team?” He narrowed his eyes at the parchment she was hiding badly behind her back, “What are you doing here, eh? You spying on the Gryffindor team? Trying to help your Hufflepuffs? Cause I tell ye, we’re going to beat your sorry tails!”

Cyra tried not to groan as he jumped to conclusions, his competitiveness beginning to show its ugly rear, “No, Oliver. I am just borrowing Fred’s..potion essay, he wanted me to look over it before he turned it in to Professor Snape.” At that, Oliver snapped out of his paranoia, “Oh..yeah.  That makes sense. Professor Snape is always assigning extra work on us Gryffindors. He probably wants us to fail so we can’t play.”

She nodded along, beginning to step away, “Yep, he’s probably just worried about how you guys are going to wipe out his Slytherins next match.”  Oliver puffed his chest out, “Good! Our Team Captain has us working on new techniques, we’ll have won before those Slytherins could hiss out, ‘Quiddich’!” Cyra tried not to laugh as she inched further away, “Right, so I’ll be reviewing this for him. Can’t let you guys lose a beater!” He waved her off, flying back up to his team, “Very good, thank you Lupin! Hope to see you cheering us on!”

“Oh you know it!” She shouted back, before taking off back to her common room. Once Oliver reached the rest of his team, he tapped Fred on the shoulder, “Good friend you’ve got there, Weasley.” Fred furrowed his brows at that, looking at him confused, “Huh?” Oliver chuckled, motioning down to Cyra’s retreating figure, “Lupin. She came and got your potion essay to read it over for you. Good thing she is too, she’s mighty good at that class. She’ll be sure to help you pass.” Fred nodded, smiling back at him, “Yeah, she’s great, right?” As the older boy flew off to his post, Fred was hit with another wave of confusion, “Wait..what potion essay?”

“Hey Cy-“

“Bit busy, sorry Cedric! I’ll see you for our library session!”

The Hufflepuff boy watched confused as the brunette sped past him, rushing up to the girl’s dorm,  “O..kay?”  As the door slammed shut, he blinked for a moment before turning back to his essay, “I guess I’ll ask her to help me with Potions later..”

Upstairs, Cyra was checking every nook and cranny to be sure she was completely alone. Once satisfied, she hopped onto the bed, placing the parchment before her. Whipping out her wand, she pointed it at the parchment with a satisfied grin, “I am up to no good!” There it was.  Her genius.  It took her almost half of second year to realize they were dropping hints with each attempt. And she had now put them together.

When nothing happened, her grin faded, staring at the blank parchment. Was she wrong? She couldn’t possibly be. The high she had been riding was completely gone. There was no response, either. Did she manage to mess up and grab the wrong thing from Fred’s bag?

Slowly, the words appeared, causing Cyra’s heart to race.

‘Mr. Moony would like to know, do you solemnly swear?’

“What?” She whispered, her brows furrowed in confusion. Pointing her wand at it again, she spoke again, “Yes. I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

‘Mr. Moony would like to congratulate Ms. Lupin!’

‘Mr. Prongs would like to applaud Ms. Lupin for demonstrating the intelligence she earned from her father!’

‘Mr. Padfoot says it took long enough, well done.’

‘Mr. Wormtail is proud of Ms. Lupin!’

At that, the words faded into the parchment, before something entirely different appeared.

“Mssrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present ‘The Maruader’s Map’” Cyra read out, her eyes wide as she took in every inch of the work. Upon opening it, she took in a sharp breath, seeing the multiple names appearing on different parts of the map, moving around and leaving footsteps.

“This is..incredible!” She laughed, glancing over to where Fred and George were, watching them hover around the Quiddich Field. Looking over for more, she saw ‘Percy Weasley’ wandering around Library next, a ‘Peter Pettigrew’ on his side. During her search, more words appeared in the blank spot at the top.

‘Mr. Moony would like to offer some help to Ms. Lupin. Whenever you are finished with your troublemaking, it is advised you say, “Mischief Managed”.’

 Cyra smiled as the handwriting faded, “Thanks Papa.” Hearing footsteps approaching, she pointed her wand at it quickly, “Mischief Managed.” At that, the map shut itself, fading back into a blank and unsuspecting parchment.

It was Sarah who entered, looking over Cyra’s strange position on the bed, “Evening..I just came to get my transfiguration book.” Cyra nodded, slipping the map into her bookbag, “Sounds good, have fun!” Sarah watched her curiously, raising a brow, “What are you up to, Cyra?” As she stood up, the brunette put on the sweetest smile she could manage, “Nothing.” At that, she was out, leaving her housemate even more suspicious.

As Cyra hurried along the halls, she looked around nervously, trying to figure out where the twins would be. They weren’t at the field when she went to find them. Pausing in her steps, she realized she could just use the map to find them. Her pause was enough for her attackers, a hand covering her mouth to muffle her scream as she was dragged into a dark alcove. 

Cyra fought against the arms that held her, biting down on the fingers over her mouth, causing one of her attackers to yelp, “OW! Bloody hell, Cyra! Watch where you’re chomping!” Oh, that was just George. Spinning around, she smacked him and his brother on their shoulders, “Don’t ever do that again!" They winced and backed up away from her assaults.

“Well what did you expect us to do?” George defended, pointing out in the halls, “You were running like a mad hippogriff! It was our only chance to catch you!” Cyra huffed, fixing her robes back, “I was looking for you two.” George blinked at that, “Oh.” 

Fred was next to step up, putting his hands on his hips, “Why did you steal the parchment from my bag, little lady?” Cyra raised a brow at that, “Little lady? Who are you, my papa?” Fred flushed for a moment before he stilled himself, pointing his finger at her chest, “Don’t change the subject! Where is the parchment?” 

“You mean the map?”

“Yes! I mean the- wait..what?”

Cyra shot him a mischievous smile, slipping said item out of her bag, “I said, the map. The Maruader’s Map, to be correct.” At their confused looks, she snapped out her wand and pointed it at the blank parchment, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” She watched their expressions turn to pure shock, allowing them to soak in everything as they explored it. After a few moments, she was snatched up in a tight hug.

“Cyra Lupin, you absolute genius witch! We love you so much!”

There it was. The proper praise for her brilliance. This is what she had been waiting for. Now she allowed herself a pat on the back.  

Cyra always waited for late at night for her to get undressed.  She used the excuse of being absorbed in her reading, waiting until everyone had gone off to sleep. Once the final light went out, she placed her decoy book to the side, padding off quietly to the bathroom.

It had been a long day, it felt like classes just got harder from last year. More work, and more difficulty. She was grateful that next year she would be able to choose some of her own. Divination and Care for Magical Creatures are what she planned on taking. They just seemed to be the most interesting.

Starting up the shower, she began stepping out of her uniform. She knew the hot water would be best for her sore muscles, not wanting to wake up with a crick in her neck in the morning. Sighing, she took her hair down from the ponytail, feeling some gunk stuck in it. A result from the recent escapades of a certain pair of twins.

She really needed to get them to lay off of the Slytherins, target someone else for a while. It was good to equally prank, not just picking on one house. Stepping in the shower, she let out a happy hum, already feeling relaxed.

This was the time she looked forward to. A time where she didn’t have to cover up, and just enjoy feeling relaxed after a long day. She earned it, this year had gone by in such a flash, but she felt all the weight from it.

Once her hair was clean from the gunk, she allowed herself to soak for a few moments longer before stepping out. It was at that moment however, the door swung open. Letting out a yelp, she snatched up her towel, covering herself from the intruder.

It was Elizabeth Graham, a third year Hufflepuff. Covering her eyes quickly, she calmly spoke, “Oh my apologies, Lupin. I didn’t think anyone would be awake at this time.” Cyra glanced in the mirror for a quick moment, grateful her hair had covered the bite on her shoulder, “I-It’s fine. I usually wait for others to go to bed, more peaceful that way.”

“And cause of the scars?”

Huh? Cyra’s eyes widened at that, looking back over to the older girl, “W-Well.. I mean..” Somehow she was speechless, unable to come up with an excuse. Had she been found out? Elizabeth carefully put her hands down, smiling at her, “You know, there are some muggle creams to help with such..imperfections. You should try them.” Cyra found her tone to be almost sickingly sweet, as if it was laced with poison.

“Might help you feel prettier, y’know? Though, it may not work all the way.” Elizabeth continued, not aware of the frown that had formed on the younger girl’s face, “They looked pretty deep.” Cyra swallowed down the words she really wanted to say, forcing out, “Thank you.”

At that, she snatched up her uniform from the floor, walking out the door that led to her dorm, leaving the older student to get her shower. Once she was in the dark room, Cyra let out a shaky breath, blinking back the tears. For the first time, she felt ugly.

That summer was much worse, as with another year came changes. She looked herself over in the mirror, her brows furrowed with worry. She looked awkward, her height had randomly shot up and it felt like she gained weight almost overnight. Turning herself to the side in the mirror, she let out a groan as she saw the stretch marks on her hips. She felt like she was covered in them.

The knock on the door caught her attention, Remus’s voice following, “Cyra? Are you okay?” She glanced at her reflection again, huffing, “No, I’m being destroyed by puberty!” The chuckle he gave in response only fueled her aggravation, “It’s not funny, Papa!”

“No, no, you’re right.” He stifled his laughter, “I’m sorry. Can I come in?”

She snatched up her shirt, slipping it on, “Go ahead.” He stepped in, looking around the messy room with a raised brow, “Did..a tornado blow through here?” Cyra noticed the mess as well, shame beginning to sink in, “No..it was me. Nothing fits right.” 

Realization hit him, his eyes softening as he looked down at his daughter, “Oh Cyra. We can get you new clothes. Or you could steal from my closet like usual.” She let out a dramatic sigh, falling back on the bed, “I know. I just.. I’m frustrated!”

He joined her, sitting on the edge, looking down at her with a patient smile, “Do you want to talk about it?” Cyra pouted as she stared at the ceiling, staying silent. Knowing this was just her angsty teenage silence, he laid himself down beside her, waiting.

“I feel ugly.”

There it was. Turning his head to look at her, he whispered, “Cyra, you’re beautiful.” He watched as her face scrunched up with emotion, amber eyes filling with tears, before spilling out alongside her words.

“I don’t look like the other girls. I noticed it second year. The scars didn’t bother me until Graham saw them.”

Remus reached over, petting her hair softly, “Graham? Who’s that?” She sniffled, narrowing her eyes at the ceiling as she remembered the girl, “She’s a year ahead of me. She walked into the bathroom while I was in the shower, saw the scars on my stomach. She..She said that there’s muggle products to reduce ‘imperfections’ but that from how deep they looked, it might not help that much. I didn’t know what to say, so I just.. thanked her.”

After her explanation, she covered her face to shield herself away from the world. Remus felt anger boil inside him at the thought of this awful teenager hurting his little girl’s feelings. Pulling her into a side hug, he kissed the top of her head, “Cyra, no. You don’t need to listen to that awful girl. Your scars are not imperfections. They are your marks of survival.”

“I know! And I told myself that! I kept saying that she was just jealous, but jealous of what!? Surviving a werewolf attack!? Being marked up like a piece of meat!? Yeah I’m so sure any teenage girl would be jealous of that!”

Remus winced as he heard the self-hatred in her words, remembering how he did just the same when he was younger. The only difference was the boys in his dorm didn’t care, thinking the scars were cool. But he knew that it was much different for his daughter.

“Fred and George invited me to the swimming hole this summer and I just..couldn’t. I didn’t want them to see me like that. For them to look at me with such disgust. It would kill me, Papa.”

He sighed, feeling his eyes begin to water at her words, hearing the pain in her voice. “Cyra-“ His voice broke for a moment,  “Cyra, I know. I know. But you have to believe me when I say, the twins will not care. About your scars or..” He trailed off, feeling the doubt begin to sink in. He honestly didn’t know how they would react to Cyra’s condition.

They were loyal. He had seen how passionate they were about their bond, always stuck to her like glue. They were the exact same as when they were six. He didn’t know back then if their friendship would remain strong throughout Hogwarts, but the past two years had proved it. Fred and George cared a great deal about Cyra. Much like his friends did.

“Or?”

He squeezed her tightly against him, knowing his next words may seal her fate. She needed to have a support system. She deserved the same he got. It wasn’t fair to keep lying to them. But, he was so terrified. He couldn’t live with Cyra being rejected from her friends.

“Or your condition. If you choose to tell them.”

Remus let go of her as she pulled back, seeing her eyes wide with panic, “No! No! I-I can’t tell them! They’ll see me as some monster!” He shushed her, trying to calm her down, “I won’t make you tell them Cyra, it was just a suggestion.” Once he was sure she wouldn’t freak out, he continued, “I don’t think they would think you’re a monster though. You’ve been friends for seven years, they wouldn’t let a friendship go like that.”

She let out a huff, rolling her eyes, “Yeah, seven years of lies. They would never forgive me.” He sighed, petting her head, “You don’t have to. But eventually they will find out.” She glanced over at him, looking unsure, “What do you mean?” Remus smiled weakly, “Mine did. Third year. It’s hard to keep this secret from your closest friends.”

Cyra now looked worried, pressing her lips tightly together. Pulling her back into his arms, he held her comfortingly, “Shh, you don’t have to do it now. But I do suggest you do it soon.” He felt her nod against his chest, his hand coming up to run through her hair, “What do you say we go on a little shopping trip, huh? And you know what? We’ll get you a bathing suit too.”

Cyra looked up at him, her eyes red from crying, “Really?” He smiled down at her, nodding, “Yeah, and then we’ll get some ice cream from your favorite shop.” She let out a loud gasp, sitting up with an excited grin, “The one that has the candy bar!?” Remus grinned back at her, raising up from the bed, “The very one!”

“I’ll get my bag! You go get your slippers off!”

He hurried out of the teen’s room, laughing as he hurried to go get his shoes, “Yes ma’am!”

“Hmm.. you are definitely not a A-cup anymore young lady.”

Cyra shuffled her feet on the podium as the helper lady measured her chest, “What..am I then?” She saw the lady shoot her a smile in the mirror, “You’ll be a B-cup. Just a little adjustment, no worries. We’ll also have to fix up your band size.”

At that, she hurried out, leaving Cyra to stand awkwardly in the dressing room. This felt so weird. Why couldn’t she just stay in training bras?  What was even a wire? This was all very confusing.

“Alright, I got you a little floral one to try on!”

Oh she was already back. Turning around, she saw the rose patterned bra. It was shaped much stranger than her training bras. They looked more revealing.

“Off with the old one, let’s go!”

Sighing, she followed her orders. Once she was fitted in the new one, she stared at her reflection. She supposed it was much more comfortable. Maybe a wire wasn’t all that bad.

“There we are, gorgeous.  You look like a young woman now.”

Cyra smiled weakly at the helper, “Yeah..I guess.” The lady saw it and tsked, “None of that. I wish I looked like you, love. You’ve got an angel face.” The teenager frowned at that, motioning down at her stomach, “Yeah, just the face.” The helper’s stare softened at that, “Now dear, you’re not the only woman with scars. They are a sign you’re a survivor. If anything, it makes you more beautiful.”

She was grateful the helper never asked about what happened, muggles seemed to know not to cross many boundaries. But her response confused her, her frown disappearing as she thought about it, “Beautiful? How so?”

The helper smiled at her, quoting, “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” She gave a moment for the words to sink in before continuing, “Kahlil Gibran said that. He was a writer and visual artist. He appreciated the real beauty in the world. Your scars are not nuisance, but a visible representation of your soul. A strong and fighting soul, which I think is precious.”

Cyra swallowed thickly, looking back at her reflection. Her pale skin held jagged scars, covering her stomach that made its way to her sides. Running her fingers over the discolored skin, she whispered, “Thank you..”  The helper placed a hand on her back, “Of course, dear. Now, I think we’ll pick some plain bras, but keep some cute flower print for you, sound good?” She waited until she got a nod to head out and grab them, seeing Remus waiting outside.

He smiled down at the helper, “Thank you again.” She winked at him before hurrying off, “Next we’ll choose the bathing suit! I’m thinking something darker to suit her complexion!”

Remus was soon carrying around the bags, not complaining from how heavy they were. The smile on Cyra’s face was enough payment for him to lug around the weight. Next was the salon, an idea brought up by the helper in the store. It had been a bit since Cyra’s gotten her hair cut, and he figured it would be good for her to get all girlied up.

Once they entered, he was assaulted by the smell of heavy perfume. Cyra crinkled her nose as well, letting out a noise of discomfort as she looked around the bright shop. A hairdresser came up to them, “Hello there! Welcome to Snips and Clips! What can I do for you?”

Remus motioned to Cyra, who stepped forward awkwardly, “Um.. hello sir, can I have a haircut?” The Hairdresser smiled down at her, holding out his hand to her, “Indeed you can, lovely. I am Jacque, you are?” She took it, shaking it carefully, “Cyra.”

“Gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl. Now let’s get you in a chair!”

Once Cyra was shampooed and propped up, Jacque messed around with her hair, “You have some beautiful curls, love. Very thick. I’m sure it must get hot for you.” She sighed, nodding tiredly, “Yes, I just tie it back.” He looked it over, feeling the texture in his fingers, “Hmm..we’ll thin it up. That should help cool you down, but also add a bit more bounce to your curls.”

And he was off to work. Remus watched curiously as hair dropped to the floor in  a pile, yet her hair didn’t seem to change. Jacque then did what he called, ‘layering’ and Cyra’s curls began to become much tighter.

“How’s that feel love?”

Cyra shook her head, watching her curls bounce around, “It’s great!” She didn’t lose a lot of length, her curls still reaching her shoulders, but it seemed much more tamed. She noticed it was also glossier. Once the cape was removed, she turned to Remus for approval, “Papa?” He stared at her in awe before smiling, “Well, I didn’t think it was possible for you to become more beautiful, but you did.”

She smiled back, running her fingers through her hair, it felt so light.

That night, Cyra got dressed in one of Remus’s old shirts. As she stood in front of the mirror, she tucked a curl behind her ear, smiling at her reflection.  She was growing up fast, but somehow after today, it felt much less scary. Pulling up her shirt to her ribs, she looked over the scars.

“The most massive characters are seared with scars..huh.” She whispered, staring at them for a moment before letting go of the shirt. After a moment, she leaned in to examine the scar on her lips, smiling softly, “Well.. I suppose they all think I’m pretty with this one.. why should my others be different?”

“Come on Cyra! Hop in!”

She listened to the cheers, staring down from the dock. Fred and George were already in the water, beckoning her in. Percy was sitting on the edge, letting his legs hang in the water as he read his novel. Ron and Ginny were trying to splash him, laughing each time he got irritated and kicked some water back at them. Bill and Charlie were gone, the latter having moved all the way to Romania.

Glancing back at her friends, she let out a nervous sigh, stripping off her band tee and shorts. The lady at the shop had found her a dark blue one-piece, with one shoulder strap that covered her bite perfectly, coming off into a cute ruffle. Pausing as she heard the silence, she looked at them worried, “What is it?”

Fred and George were staring at her weirdly, their mouths agape. She began to feel self-conscious, “W-What?” Percy looked up, seeing her, his brows raising up in surprise, “Oh, Cyra, you look lovely.” That seemed to snap Fred and George out of it, spinning around to glare at their older brother, “Keep your eyes to yourself, Prefect Percy!”

Taking the distraction, she slipped into the water, shivering a bit at how cool it was. Once they brought their attention back to her, she tried to joke as she swam around, “Do I really look that weird?” Her voice wavered in insecurity.

“No!” George shouted, his cheeks flushed as he shoved at his brother to speak up. Fred gasped out, “U-Uh.. pretty..” Percy snorted from his place, shaking his head, “Idiots..” Once Fred noticed his twin staring at him, his previous words came back to haunt him. A glance at his female companion’s shocked expression, he turned around to George, “Right, drown me.” George gave a determined nod before pushing him under the water, “It was nice to know you, brother.” 

“Stop! Don’t actually drown him!” Cyra swam over to them, grabbing at George’s arms. Fred soon came up above the water, gasping for air. George swallowed thickly as Cyra held his arms, trying to look at anything but her. She huffed, letting him go, “Okay, seriously! What is the problem here!?”

“You’re just..very exposed.”

Now she was irritated. This wasn’t even the most revealing swimsuit they had. If anything, she was more covered up than most teenage girls. Glaring at George, she gritted out, “You’re both shirtless.”

“Your shoulders are showing!”

Fred coughed up water, gasping out, “And your legs..” Cyra directed her glare at him next, “Should I go cover up then!? Am I not allowed to wear a swimsuit?” George groaned, shaking his head, “Nooo, just..give us some time to adjust.” Fred made a noise of agreement, still trying to get the water from his lungs.

“Fine. I’ll go swim with Percy..” She trailed off, turning away.

“NOT LIKE THAT!”

She gasped as a pair of arms grabbed at her, hugging her back against a body. Realizing what he did, George began stammering, “I-I just mean.. stay with us..but still give us time.” Cyra nodded slowly, waiting for him to let her go. When he didn’t, she turned her head to look at him, “George?” Upon seeing him, she felt her curiosity pique. How was it possible for him to be so red? Even his ears were tinged.

“Did you get sunburnt already?”

“N-No!”

“You’re practically a lobster! Fred is also burnt!”

Percy hid his smile behind his novel. He couldn’t wait to tell Penelope about this.

Chapter Text

Remus sat in his armchair, reading peacefully as Cyra worked in the kitchen. She had wanted to try a new cookie recipe, and he was not about to get in the way. She was thirteen now, and more than capable to work in a kitchen by herself. Though he still stayed close by, just in case.

The silence was calming for him, the only sound coming from her cracking eggs. His eyes began to drift shut, his focus on the page lost.

“Dad?”

He picked his head up quickly, looking over at her with tired eyes, “Hm? What is it love?” She wasn’t facing him, her head tilted down so he couldn’t see her expression. She hesitated for a moment before speaking again, “Who..was Padfoot and Prongs?”

Well that was a wake up call. He felt his world shift suddenly, inhaling sharply as he realized what she said, “How do you know those names?” It was then she finally lifted her head, meeting his eyes with a sad gaze, “Your jacket. There was a note between you and a Padfoot. He mentioned a Prongs punching him.”

“Ah.” That was all he could say, the shock having shaken him up. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the cushion, sighing. The silence grew, now much tenser than before. It didn’t seem Cyra was going to interrupt it this time, probably worried about saying the wrong thing and causing him to retreat.

He never spoke much about his past, and when he did slip up, he closed up like a clam. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Cyra, it was just too painful to speak about. She never pressed him about it, until now.

“Padfoot was my friend.” He pressed out, before he quickly rescinded it, “No, no. I shouldn’t lie to you..” He heard her footsteps approach him, opening his eyes to see her settling on the couch opposite of him. Softening his gaze, he tried once again, “He was my partner.”

He waited for the disgust, but there was none. Cyra simply nodded, watching with open curiosity. It felt as if a huge boulder had lifted off his shoulders, one he put there himself, it seems. Cyra never questioned him before on his sexuality, nor did she press him when she was younger for a mother. Perhaps she already knew.

“His name was Sirius.” He continued, looking over to the fireplace so he’d have a distraction, “He was.. a rebellious wizard. Gryffindor like Prongs and I. Prongs, ah, his name was James. We used nicknames with eachother. I was Moony, James was Prongs, Sirius was Padfoot, and Peter was Wormtail.”

He glanced over to see her still intently listening, her gaze never moving from him, “We were troublemakers, much like a certain trio I know.” He gave her a pointed look, to which Cyra attempted to fake innocence, “I have no idea what you’re speaking of. Fred and George cause trouble, I simply-“

“Get roped in even though if you said no, you know they wouldn’t make you?”

Her eyes shot to the fireplace, her lips formed in a pout. Remus chuckled, shaking his head, “I used that excuse too. Though most of the time, I was the one who came up with the pranks.” He let out a wistful sigh, relaxing against his armchair, “We were as close as brothers. All of us.”

Cyra heard the shift in his voice, waiting for him to continue, to explain why he didn’t seem to believe what he just said. Remus closed his eyes, taking in a breath before forcing out, “Until Sirius betrayed us.” She inhaled sharply, her eyes widening as she began to put the pieces together.

“James Potter, my friend and a man Sirius considered a brother. He and his wife Lily, they were killed by You-know-who.”

She held back from speaking, not wanting to interrupt him. Remus kept his eyes squeezed tightly together, feeling them begin to wet with tears.

“I still don’t understand. Sirius looked up to James, he considered him family. He hated everything his family stood for, so why would he..” 

His voice cracked, having to choke back a sob. Taking that a cue to comfort him, she hurried off her seat and to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Remus shuddered, laying his head on her shoulder as tears streaked his cheeks, “I loved him. Even when we were at odds and didn’t know who the spy was! I never doubted him! I knew he wouldn’t. I-I thought he..”

She petted his head slowly, running her fingers through his sandy brown hair. After allowing him to cry, she spoke up, “You don’t think he actually did it.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Remus pulled back, looking at her with red-rimmed eyes, “N-No. I don’t. Even if Dumbledore swears, he was their secret keeper, I don’t. I know Sirius would rather die.”  

Cyra looked down at him with worry, “Then why haven’t you seen him?” She knew now who Sirius actually was. She knew the story. How could she not? The darkest wizard to live, destroyed by a one year old boy, Harry Potter. It was a tale they all knew, from being whispered excitedly in the halls, the mournful cries of children orphaned, everyone knew what happened that night. Or perhaps they thought they did.

Remus was silent, and it was because there was no answer.  He didn’t know why. Even though he felt Sirius was being somehow framed, the facts were all there. But he could have gone to ask him. So why didn’t he?

“I’m terrified.”

“Of what?”

“Of what they say being true.”

“Honestly, you should have seen his face!”

“It was glorious, Cy, I wish you were there.”

Cyra tried to keep her disapproving frown, though it was rather hard when both boys were holding her hands and swinging them like they were five years old. After a few more swings that almost took her sockets out, she finally broke, “I can’t wait to see how your mother is going to react. Do you remember the time you told Ginny she was adopted because she was the only girl?”

Fred grinned at the memory, “Yeah, good times.” His twin, George had an identical grin, though he was looking at Cyra, “If I remember correctly, you joined in on that one.” She gripped his hand in warning, narrowing her eyes, “Watch who you’re incriminating, mister. She asked me about being adopted and I told her how it worked. That’s it!”

“But you didn’t tell her she wasn’t adopted.”

Her lips quirked for a moment, “Well..perhaps I just wanted to see what would happen.” George raised a brow at that, his grin growing wider, “Oh yeah?” At that, she slipped her hands from theirs, continuing on their path, “We’re going to lose Percy if we keep lagging.”

“That’s the point!”

She could only take a couple more steps before she was dragged back, held captive by the twins. They took a look ahead to see Percy still had yet to notice their absence, bragging to Penelope about his new prefect badge.

“Good. He’s distracted by his girlfriend.”

“Time to go.”

Cyra gasped, panicking as she was rushed off, “Wait, what?!” At the shout, Percy looked over his shoulder curiously, “Huh? Strange. That sounded like Cyra.” Penelope looked behind them, confused, “Yeah..say, where is she?”

“Well she was with the twins, and they were supposed to be- NO!”

Penelope braced herself, covering her ears quickly as her crush screamed out, “FRED! GEORGE! I’LL TELL MUM ON YOU!”

As they ducked through vendors and pedestrians, Cyra continued to shout out, “Where are we going!?” Fred held tightly to her hand, leading them through, “I told you! You’ll see!”

“That’s not an answer!”

George laughed, glancing behind to check on her, “You getting tired? Want me to carry you?” He watched her shake her head furiously, “Absolutely not!” Cyra huffed as she gasped for air, “I-I can do it!”

“Atta girl!”

“Only a few more turns!”

“TO WHERE!?”

“Here ye are Harry, ye can hurry along inside, I’ve got a stop I need to make.”

Harry watched the large man, Hagrid, leave through the crowd. Sighing, he glanced back at the store sign, “Ollivanders..is this where I get my wand?”

Pushing open the door, he jumped at the jingling bell before calling out, “Excuse me? Is anyone here?”

He looked around the dusty shop, checking every corner for something to jump out at him. Not but a couple hours ago was he told that he was a wizard, and now he’s been left alone in this big shop.

“Ah..hello there.”

His eyes shot to the older man who stepped out from behind the shelves, wiping his hands with a handkerchief, “How may I help you today?”

“I was looking for a wand.”

“EXCUSE ME!” 

The sound of the jingling bell was drowned out by the simultaneous voices. Whipping around in a panic, he took in the strangers that entered. They looked only a couple years older than him. Two redheaded boys who looked identical, and a young brunette girl who was gasping for breath.

The redheaded twins hurried to the counter, leaving the girl by the door, “Can you sell us a fake wand?”

Ollivander raised a white brow at the pair, “Ah.. Weasley boys, I see. I’ve heard you two are quite the troublemakers at Hogwarts.” He looked over their heads to their exhausted companion, “And who might this be?”

Harry watched as she lifted her head to meet Ollivander’s gaze, her eyes a bright gold that it took his breath away. Was it possible for eyes to look like that? Perhaps in the magical world. He held a faint memory of a girl he once met who had eyes that looked almost golden, but he was sure it was just his mind playing tricks.

“Ah! Miss Lupin! A pleasure to see you again, how is your wand treating you?” Ollivander smiled kindly at the girl, heading out past the boys to take out a clean handkerchief and offer it to her. She took it, wiping her forehead with a huff, “It’s great. Though I’m having some issues with defense magic. I’m sure it’s not the wand though.”

“I’ll take a look just to be sure.”

She looked at him in surprise as if she didn’t expect him to help her, before reaching into her bomber jacket and taking out the long dark wand. Ollivander took it, before heading back behind the counter, “Now, as for you boys. You will have to wait. I had a customer come in before you.”

Harry felt bad as the boys seemed to be disappointed, almost about to speak up for them to go ahead of him when the girl cut in, “That’s fine. Right guys?” They took a look at her before smiling, “Yeah! We can wait!” It was then their gaze went to him, their smiles turning impish, “And who is this firstie?”

“I-I’m Harry. Harry Potter.” He answered quickly, backing up to where the girl was, figuring she was the safer option.

Their eyes seemed to widen for a moment, sharing a look before holding out their hands to him, “Pleased to meet you Harry Potter!” One stood forward, taking his hand and shaking it, “I’m Gred!” The other copied his brother, “And I’m Forge!”

The girl scoffed before whispering where only he could hear, “Don’t believe them. It’s Fred and George.” Harry paused for a moment before looking back at the twins unsurely, “Hello, Fred and George?” They faltered in their intense hand shaking, looking at him in shock before looking back at their companion.

“Cyra!”

“That’s cheating!”

She let out a sigh before reaching down to separate their hands from his, holding it within hers, “No it’s not. You shouldn’t be confusing children in the first place.”  It was then she came back into his view, crouching down to his height. She smiled so sweetly that it made him feel embarrassed, “It’s nice to meet you again, Harry. I’m Cyra Lupin.”

He nodded before her words hit him, looking at her confused, “Wait.  Again?” The twins behind her looked just as confused as he. Cyra gave him a wink before leaning in to whisper, “Have you taken good care of Mr. Bingles?” Those words struck him like lightning, his memories of her coming to the surface, including the worn out unicorn that he packed hastily when Hagrid retrieved him.   

Without another word, he wrapped his arms tightly around her neck in a tight hug, “Cyra!” She laughed, hugging him back, “Hi Harry, welcome to my world.” He whispered quietly, “I’m sorry I disappeared. Uncle Vernon wouldn’t let me.” She rubbed his back comfortingly, “It’s okay. I understand.”

He could almost cry from how understanding she was. She was always so nice to him. He felt absolutely awful when he couldn’t see her again, and dreaded how she must have felt. Pulling back, he smiled weakly at her, “I promised I’d see you again.” She stared at him patiently, still smiling, “And so you did. Good to see you again, Harry.”

“You too, Cyra.”

“Take very good care of your wand, Ms. Lupin.” Ollivander scolded her, causing the teenager to look away in shame. He had explained the blockage in the wand, with her emotions being connected to it, she needed to be sure what she is feeling when she is casting. If she doesn’t want to harm her opponent, then it simply won’t work.

Wishing him goodbye, she politely exited the shop, tucking her wand back into her jacket. As she turned around, she noticed the stares she was receiving from the twins. Sighing, she took Harry’s hand and began leading him through the streets, “What is it?”

“You didn’t tell us you had another friend!”

“And with Harry Potter! When was this!?”

Cyra repressed the urge to roll her eyes, “You make it sound as if I’ve cheated on you. I met him on my seventh birthday. We played at a muggle park.”

“The day we proposed to you!?”

“Do we mean nothing to you, woman!?”

Confused, Harry stood up on his toes to ask her quietly, “Are you dating one of them?”

“Nope, they’re just like that.” She whispered back, her eyes looking around the crowd for Hagrid. She still couldn’t understand how he could leave a child alone in the street. Wasn’t he supposed to be protected? From how Moony described it, Harry was hard to access, being the boy who lived. But she literally just scooped him up from the wand shop.

Fred came to her right side, “You see him as a brother, right?” Cyra glanced at him, raising a brow, “Huh? Well, yeah.” Both boys seemed pleased at that, including Harry, who tried to hide his grin.

George came beside Harry, looking down at him with a smile, “No worries, Harry, we’ll keep you safe.”

Wasn’t he already being kept safe by Cyra? She was the one actively looking for his guardian. He didn’t want to offend George, so he simply smiled back.

“HARRY, THERE YE ARE!”

Cyra held the child’s hand tightly as the giant approached, “Hagrid.” The larger man seemed to pause as he finally noticed the girl and her companions, “Ahh, Cyra. Nice to see you and the twins.  I see you found Harry. Thank you kindly.” 

She watched as he raised his hand for Harry to take, and waited to see if Harry would. When he did not make a move, she squeezed her hand gently around his before speaking once again, “Hagrid, how come Harry was by himself? Did Dumbledore assign you to him as his guardian?”

Hagrid felt himself waver as he saw how intense Cyra’s eyes were, pinning him to the spot as she awaited his answer. “U-Uh..” He stammered, gripping at his coat to wipe his sweaty palms off, “Well ye see, I went to go get Harry a pet.” He held up the cage to prove he was telling the truth, “I got him an owl.”

Harry’s eyes lit up at the sight of the bird, but didn’t move from Cyra’s side. Her eyes softened for a moment before narrowing back at the giant, “What if he got hurt? Or kidnapped? The wizarding world can be dangerous for a child by themselves.”

She watched as the realization struck the man, the shame showing on his expression. Fred and George stood behind her, remaining silent and allowing her to handle the situation. She was grateful for their presence however, for their scents allowed her to remain in control of her emotions.

She truly adored Hagrid, but she couldn’t understand why Dumbledore sent him to guard such a precious package like Harry. The half giant could be very forgetful, and a child seemed like a lot of responsibility. Where were his real guardians?

The moment she saw the tears in the older man’s eyes, she held her hand up, speaking softer, “Hagrid, it’s okay. Mistakes happen, and Harry is perfectly fine.” He sniffled, pulling out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiping his eyes, “Cyra, I’m so grateful ye found him. I wasn’t thinking, I wasn’t!”

Sighing, she came over to him, patting his arm comfortingly, “There, there. I know. It’s okay. Look, he’s fine.” Hagrid blinked through the tears to see that she was right, Harry was perfectly safe, holding on to Cyra.

Wiping his eyes, he bent down to Harry’s height, “I want to apologize to ye especially, Harry. I dunno what I’d do if something happened to ye.” Harry seemed unsure what to do, so he copied Cyra’s actions and patted Hagrid’s arm, “It’s okay Hagrid.”

“OH YE SWEET LAD!”

He let out a yelp as he was snatched up in tight hug, lifted up high in the air. Cyra let go of his hand, standing off to the side, watching them with a smile.

As the Giant blubbered over the boy, Fred and George took her hands into theirs.  

“It might be time to let them finish their shopping, Cyra.”

“Yeah, we’ve got to get back to Percy or else he’ll have a conniption.”

Cyra looked at them both with wide eyes, “What? Go? But Hagrid needs help watching Harry.” George stared at her knowingly, reaching up to tuck a curl behind her ear, “No, Cyra, he doesn’t. He’s learned from his mistake.”

“Yeah.” Fred agreed, squeezing her hand in his, “You don’t need to hover. You know Hagrid will protect Harry with his life.” Her cheeks flushed at that, stuttering, “I-I’m not..hovering.” They tugged at her to follow them, smiling kindly at her.

Realizing there was no winning against them, she let out a sigh before turning her head to face Harry, “I’ll see you soon, okay? Stay safe!” Harry gasped out, reaching for her, “Promise?”  The twins had to hold her hands firmly to keep her from reaching back, beginning to move them away. “I do!” She swore, shooting Harry a bright smile, “I promise!”

That was the last thing he saw before she disappeared into the busy crowd. Hagrid placed him down, brushing his shoulders off, “Well then, it’s good ye got all acquainted to those three! The Twins are troublemakers, but very nice boys. Cyra is the one who keeps them in check though, a very sweet girl she is.” Harry kept staring sadly at where she was before, “Yeah, she’s really nice.”

Noticing his sour mood, Hagrid placed his hand on his head, “Now, no frowns, Mr. Potter! We’ve got to get your robes next! Need to look very sharp this year!” Harry managed a smile as the large fingers blocked his vision, “Alright, alright. Lead the way, Hagrid!”

Chapter Text

“Now, I know you’re all grown up, but still remember to-“

Remus was caught off guard when Cyra suddenly took his hand, causing him to trail off mid sentence. Looking down at her, he saw her knowing stare, and sighed. Giving her hand a soft squeeze, he spoke softly, “I suppose you don’t need to hear this speech again, huh?”

Cyra smiled sweetly at him, “Not really, but you can give it again if you want.” Remus shook his head, holding out his arms for her to embrace him, “No, I’ll let you be free. Just give your Papa one hug before you go.”

She giggled, stepping into his arms and hugging him tightly, “I love you Papa, I’ll be back home before you know it.” He pressed her head close to his chest, kissing the top of her curls with a smile, “You’re right, as always.”

After a moment of silence, he let her go, taking a couple steps back, “Right then.” He began, “Go and give them hell for me. And if you see that Graham girl, you make sure you give her your most dazzling smile.”  

She responded with a weak smile, “Right.” Though she did secretly hope she wouldn’t run into Graham again. She didn’t need to take anymore blows to her self-esteem. Looking around the crowds, she tried to spot any red-heads, “They must be late..”

Remus looked around as well, his brows furrowing, “That’s strange. Usually they’d arrive a little bit after us.” Trying not to worry, he shooed her off, “You go see if Harry boarded safely.” Realizing that the younger boy may be alone, she quickly grabbed her things, saying goodbye to her Papa one more time before hopping onto the train.

As she searched through the compartments, she noticed many familiar faces, but none of which she was looking for. Opening up the compartment near the Slytherin side, she made instant eye contact with the small blonde inside.

He raised a pale brow at her before speaking, “Who are you?” Her lips quirked for a moment, already knowing who this would be. Her Papa was quite on point with the description of the Malfoy’s. Hair as white as snow, scrunched in faces, and a haughty tone.  

Deciding she’d be polite, she held out her hand, “Cyra Lupin, and you?” He seemed to think for a moment, possibly running through his memory of wizarding families to see if she was pureblooded. It was, but it was well known that her Papa’s mother was a muggle.

He did not take her hand, and instead puffed out his chest in superiority, “Draco Malfoy. My father is L-“ She held up her hand to cut him off, “I don’t care about your father.” He seemed insulted, his face scrunching in disdain. Trying to settle him, she clarified, “I think it’s much more important to learn of the person I’m speaking to, not about their parentage.” Her words did not relax him, though she noticed he wasn’t snapping at her to get out.

Offering her hand, she tried again, “I’m a Hufflepuff, Third Year. You’re a first year, correct? Do you know which house you’ll want to be in?” He once again examined her hand before slowly taking it, shaking it firmly once before letting go, “Slytherin. Obviously.”

Cyra smiled brightly at him, “That’s a great house to be in. Very cunning and resourceful. Perhaps I might see you for our study group in the future.” He seemed uncomfortable from her welcoming presence, shifting in his seat and looking away, “Yeah, maybe. Do Slytherins go to it?”

She gave a firm nod, “They do. Our Study Group at the moment only consists of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. I find that we work very well together.” He remained silent. Clearing her throat, she piped in, “Terrence Higgs, he’s one of the prefects for Slytherin. If you wish to join us, just ask him.” It was at that, she excused herself, giving him a wave before shutting the door behind her.

Once she was a good distance away, she let out a heavy sigh, “He was so much cuter when he was smaller.” 

“Who was?” The combined voices gave her a fright, causing her to jump. Turning around, she saw Fred and George staring at her with matching grins. Placing her hands over her heart, she huffed, “Definitely not you two. Not after giving me a heart attack!”

Fred tsked, taking her right arm, his brother copying him with the other, “Now, Cyra.  Is that any way to speak to your dear friends?” George snickered, beginning to guide them through the train, “Yeah, especially considering we helped escort a certain boy-who-lived safely onto the station.” Cyra perked up at that, looking at George with wide eyes, “Harry? You helped him get here?” 

He gave her a sly smile, “Indeed we did. Right Fred?” His twin nodded fervently, squeezing Cyra’s arm as he spoke, “Absolutely George. We knew our little Cyra would miss us, but we had to put the safety of the child first! Especially considering he was all by himself.”

“Well thank you guys, that was- ALL BY HIMSELF!?” She slammed her feet into the carpet, stopping both from going further, “What do you mean he was all by himself!? He had no guardian!?”

Fred and George looked at one another, thinking about their mistake. Before they could speak, Cyra was grabbing onto their sweaters and pulling them in so they had to face her, “Where is he!?” Fred stammered, his face beginning to turn red from how close his face was to hers. George was no better, but he managed to force out, “H-He’s with Ron, down there.” He pointed down at the compartments closest to where the Gryffindors usually sat.

Releasing them, she gave them both a smile before tearing off down the train. As the dust settled, both boys were fixing their rumpled sweaters, their faces as red as tomatoes. After a glance at his brother, Fred spoke, “Let’s uhh.. go cool down before we go after her. Yeah?” George groaned, covering his face before nodding, “Yeah…merlin..”

“Are you sure that’s a real spell? It isn’t very good, is it?”

Cyra pushed open the compartment door, her eyes darting around the three children before landing on Harry. The moment he laid eyes on her, he threw himself out of his seat and hugged her tightly, “Cyra!” She let out a breathy laugh, hugging him back, “Glad to see you in one piece.”

Looking over to the others in the compartment, she gave Ron a smile before turning to face the unknown girl, “Hello. My name is Cyra Lupin, to whom do I have the pleasure?” Harry let go of her, going back over to his seat so she may come inside.

Once she was seated next to the girl, she held out her hand. There was no hesitation before her hand was gripped and shook firmly, “Hermione Granger. I’m a first year.” Cyra seemed satisfied with this response, “Pleasure to meet you Hermione.”

Hermione’s eyes glanced over to the curls that fell around Cyra’s eyes before she made direct eye contact again, “A pleasure to meet you as well.”

Ron huffed from across the way, “Cyra! The twins tricked me again! That stupid spell doesn’t work!” Giving him her attention, she gave him a pitying stare, “Ron, I’m sorry that they did that. But at this point, you should know not to trust them.” He scrunched his nose up at that, picking up Scabbers from the box of sweets.

She swore she could hear him muttering about a stupid rat, but decided to ignore it. Looking at Harry, she grinned, “Are you excited to go to Hogwarts?” He nodded quickly, fiddling with his robes nervously, “Do you think I’ll get in?”

“Of course you’ll get in, you’ve already been accepted!” Hermione butted in, “Now you’ll just need to be sorted into a house! Hogwarts a History didn’t say much about the ceremony, so I’m very excited to see how it is!”

Cyra felt all the eyes land on her, to which she faked innocence, “Oh, I can’t say. School rules.” That was a total lie, but she wanted them to experience the sorting hat purely. She remembered being in their position, nervous and excited all at the same time. The Sorting Hat was a really magical experience.

They all seemed to understand she wouldn’t be saying much more. It was then that Hermione gasped loud enough to take Cyra’s attention, “Oh! I’d completely forgotten!” The young girl looked at the older with wide eyes, “Have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville is looking for one.”

She went to respond that no, she hadn’t. But Ron’s loud sigh had stopped her. Glancing over, she noticed him looking annoyed.  Did he not like Hermione? A quick look showed Harry didn’t mind, he looked mostly just confused.

Deciding to change her response, she turned to the younger girl and gave her the kindest smile, “I hadn’t. But I’d be more than willing to help you.” With that, she stood up, holding her hand out to Hermione, “Perhaps we should retrace our steps, ask this Neville about this toad, and where he last had it.”

Hermione stared at her in awe, quietly taking her hand and following her out. With a final wink to Harry and a warning stare to Ron, she shut the compartment door behind them.

As they traveled through the train, Cyra made sure to hold onto the girl’s hand carefully, not wanting to lose her in the sea of students.

“Thank you..” 

“Hm?” She turned her head, looking down at her, “For what?” Hermione seemed to be embarrassed, looking away from her, “For not rolling your eyes at me. Also, for helping.” Cyra’s heart went immediately to the young girl, but knew better than to suddenly hug her in this public area, not wanting to embarrass her.

Instead, she settled with squeezing her hand, “There’s no reason to roll my eyes, Hermione. I respect a fellow witch who likes to read and is knowledgeable. Especially if it’s for a brilliant read like Hogwarts a History. I find it really interesting that muggle technology doesn’t work inside Hogwarts, and I did wonder if perhaps it was the magic that messes with it.”

She could feel the excitement radiate off the young girl, and fought a smile as she began to ramble off, “Isn’t it!? I tried to read a bit on it, since I was confused if it was simply banned or if it was such a scenario! And would it have to have electricity? On my trip in Diagon Alley, I noticed that they used candles and magic to provide light. I’m so excited to go and see the things mentioned, like is the Great Hall’s ceiling really bewitched to look like the night sky?!”

Cyra pushed open the door they stopped in front of, answering her as she stepped inside, “Indeed it is. Hogwarts is the most magical place in the world, I think you’ll have so much fun.” Hermione brimmed with glee, stepping in behind her, “I think I will too!” She then turned to address the boy inside, “Hello Neville. I brought Ms. Cyra Lupin to assist us!”

Neville bit his lip nervously, wiping his hand on his pants before holding it out to her, “P-Pleasure, ma’am, I’m Neville.” Cyra took his hand, shaking it softly, “No need to call me ma’am, I’m only a couple years older than you two. Also, Neville?” She trailed off, waiting for him to finish.

“Oh! Longbottom! Neville Longbottom! Sorry, my gran always taught me how to properly introduce m-myself, but I got nervous an-“

She placed her hand on his shoulder, chuckling, “No worries, Neville. I get nervous too, happens to us all.” Once she felt him relax, she continued, “Now, this toad?  Where did you last see him?” He groaned, covering his face in shame, “A-At the station. Trevor boarded with me, and then I ended up tripping over my luggage and he ran off!” 

She hummed, understanding how sneaky animals could be. Glancing over, she noticed the empty tank, “Is that his?” He nodded, allowing her to get closer look in it, “Yeah, the top got loose and he managed to hop out.”

Cyra pretended to examine the tank, but she was secretly sniffing around, attempting to pick up the smell of the toad. Once she caught it, her nose scrunched up at the mildew scent, placing the tank back down. “Right,” She began, “What kind of toad is Trevor?”

Neville’s stared at her in curiosity, thinking for a moment before answering, “He’s a smooth-sided toad.” Cyra hummed, remembering a few facts about them, “Right, okay.” She then gave him a pat on the head before heading out, “Hermione, when we find the toad, do not handle it. I’ll pick him up.”

She was confused at that, following after the older girl, “Why? Is it poisonous?” Cyra gave a firm nod, stopping for a moment as she tried to focus on all of the scents in the air, “They can be if not relaxed. If it gets on your hands and you accidentally touch your mouth, it could cause heart failure.”

Once she caught wind of the mildew scent, she was back off, dragging Hermione through the train. Figuring she should come up with an excuse for how quickly this search would be, she stated, “Trevor probably went to a warm spot, like a vent.”

“How do you know so much about toads?” Hermione questioned her, dodging through the students so they wouldn’t lag behind.

Cyra already had her next excuse, responding quickly, “I live in a cabin with my Papa. We’re surrounded by wildlife.  Not only is it interesting, but you have to be sure you’re not petting something dangerous.” Her answer seemed to be satisfying Hermione’s curiosity, since she fell silent after.

The scent of mildew grew stronger, and before she knew it, Trevor was right where she said. Stopping before it, she let go of Hermione’s hand, “Hello Trevor, you’ve given your owner a right fright.” She held out her hand for him, “Let’s take you back, you naughty toad.” He watched her for a moment before crawling onto her hand.

“Wow!” Hermione exclaimed, “It was like he could understand you!” Cyra chuckled, leading them back, “No, I’m just good with animals.  Though there is one that absolutely despises me.”

“Huh? Despises you? What?”

“Ron’s rat, Scabbers. I dunno what I did to that little thing, but he always panics when I try to hold him.”

Chapter Text

As the older students shuffled into the castle, Cyra caught sight of a familiar man bumbling past the crowd. Stepping away from the twin’s grasp, she went to greet him, “Evening, Professor Quirrell.” The nervous man spun around to face her, his eyes wide in a panic, “O-Oh! Yes! Um..Miss..” She gave an understanding smile, she didn’t expect him to remember her. After all, she had been too young until now to take his muggle studies class, “Lupin, sir.”

“Ah, yes, Miss L-Lupin. L-L-Last time I had seen you, you were t-t-t-this small.” He placed his hand down very low, causing her to laugh. Obviously he was exaggerating, she hadn’t been that small since she was nine. “Well,” She began, “I was eleven the last time you saw me. Then I heard you took a sabbatical? How was it?” 

His face seemed to grow paler at the mention, his eyes darting around the halls before landing on her again, “I-I-It was most enlightening.” She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t, his eyes baring into her. Something in the back of her mind twinged, her instincts growing stronger as she began to sense danger. Deciding not to alert him, she just gave a bright smile, “Well, lovely to have you back! Will you still be teaching muggle studies?”

He waved off the notion, smiling once again, “No, no. I shall be teaching D-D-Defense against Dark Arts.” Well that was new. She didn’t know he even had an interest in that subject.  Then again, she didn’t really pay much attention to the stuttering man. Hearing the twins call for her, she decided to cut the conversation short, “Well, I look forward to learning from you!”

Quirrell bowed his head at her, dismissing her so she could join with her friends. Once she stepped back into the crowd, she allowed the boy’s scents to flood her senses, calming her instantly. Fred took her hand worriedly, guiding her through, “Where’d you run off to?” She gave his hand a soft squeeze before answering, “I just wanted to say hello to Professor Quirrell, he’s back from his trip.” George scoffed, taking her other hand protectively, “Oh great, good thing we didn’t take Muggle Studies as our electives.”

Cyra didn’t bother to correct them, knowing it would be much funnier for them to find out on their own. As they entered the hall, she attempted to head over to the Hufflepuff’s table, but was yanked back by the hands grasping at her.

“Oi, you.”

“Where do you think you’re going, missy?”

She gave a small giggle, looking at them both, “Can’t I sit with my own house?”

“You can. But you avoided us all during the train ride.”

“We deserve compensation.”

“So you’re sitting with us.”

“You can file your complaints after dinner.”

With no room for argument, they dragged her to the bright red and gold decorated table. Cyra didn’t put up a fight, finding their childishness very amusing. They were still very sour over her spending her time with Hermione and Neville during the train ride.

Once they were seated, the conversation came back around, this time by Fred’s doing. “So, what electives did you choose Cyra?” He asked, going ahead and pouring himself some pumpkin juice. Sliding her glass over to his so he’d pour her some as well, she politely answered, “Divination and Care for Magical Creatures.” George gasped out, “What a surprise! So did we!” She narrowed her eyes at that, the gasp was much too fake for it to be a surprise.

Fred slid her now filled glass back over to her, looking as innocent as a devil, “Such a coincidence, eh brother?” Cyra didn’t think she wanted to know how they made this ‘coincidence’ happen. Deciding it would be best to let it go, she prompted, “I’m also very excited for Potions this year.” At their dramatic groans, she continued, “I heard we’ll be learning to make antidotes to poisons.”

“Probably cause the old bat will be poisoning our food.” George grumbled. Fred muttered something under his breath as well, narrowing his eyes at the Potion’s Professor who sat highly at the Head’s Table. Rolling her eyes at their antics, she slipped in, “We’ll also be learning a potion that can cause the drinker to shrink.” Their heads whipped towards her so fast, she could have sworn she heard their necks crack. Knowing she had their attention, she gave a sweet smile, “But I dunno when we’d ever use that. Do you?”

Their identical grins were all she needed as an answer. Hearing soft whispering outside the Great Hall’s doors, she prepared herself for the arrival of the first years. As Dumbledore raised his hand, the doors parted, Professor McGonagall stepping through and guiding the small first years in a neat line. She always loved to see the reactions of the students when they walked in, the looks of awe as they took in the beauty and magic of the castle.

Scanning through the crowd, she finally caught sight of Harry, his eyes wide behind the black frames. He was watching the candles as they levitated above their heads. Soon enough, he seemed to have felt her stare, looking into her direction with a wide smile. Giggling, she waved a hand at him before motioning for him to pay attention to what was infront of him.

McGonagall held her hand out for the line to stop, taking out a four-legged stool and placing it before them. She awaited the looks of confusion as she placed the sorting hat on top of the stool. Fred and George snickered on both sides of her, before Fred leaned in to whisper, “Look at Ronny-kins, he looks like he’s about to wee himself.” A quick glance confirmed Fred’s joke, Ron look positively terrified at the ratty and frayed hat.

Her lips quirked up in amusement as she whispered back, “What did you say to him?” George slid in closer to her side, snickering, “Oh not much, just that it was painful.” Fred glanced over at his brother, “Oh yeah? I said we had to wrestle a troll. I suppose that lines up, eh?”

As the hat began to move, the first years all took a terrified step back, their eyes wide. The Sorting Hat’s lips appeared at the brim of the hat, opening wide to belt out his song. Cyra enjoyed watching the children’s reaction, seeing the shock and awe amongst them all. Even a young Malfoy was almost hypnotized by the old hat. Hogwarts truly was very magical.

Once the hat finished, Professor McGonagall whisked out her long scroll, speaking clearly and strict, “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.” With that, it began. She was pleased to see a bunch of new Hufflepuffs, last year they didn’t get many. Glancing over at her table, she spotted Cedric welcoming in the new girls with a charming smile.

“Brown, Lavender.”

 “GRYFFINDOR!”

There it was. Within seconds, both boys on her sides were hooting and hollering in excitement. Laughing at their antics, she grabbed them both by their ties and tugged them back down to their seats. The poor girl looked positively terrified to approach them after that excitement, rushing to the other side.

Once Hermione was sorted, she skipped herself proudly over to where Cyra sat, sitting on the other side. Leaning forward, Cyra whispered, “Good job, welcome to the Lion’s Den.” Hermione gave her a grin before looking down at her tie in confusion, “Are you not Gryffindor?” Chuckling, she shook her head, “Nope, but two very clingy gnomes kept me from returning to my table.”

“Well that’s awful rude, don’t you think Fred?”

“Yeah, George. I’m sure she meant to say very handsome clingy gnomes.”

Cyra sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically to make Hermione giggle, “Yeah, sure, that’s what I meant.”

All the other names seemed to brush past her ears until she heard a familiar name. Glancing over, she spotted the young Longbottom as he fell over on his way to the stool. Once he got situated, there was a long pause, causing her to wonder if it was a hat stall. Watching the shifting emotion on the boy’s face, he seemed to be fairly against what the Hat was saying to him.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Oh, it was decided. She felt pity for the poor dear as he looked over at the table with frightened eyes. Hopping up with the twins, she clapped her hands and cheered, “Whoo! Welcome Longbottom!” The other Gryffindors joined in, cheering and motioning for him to join. He bashfully stumbled on his way, taking a seat at the end with Brown.

Soon, they were at the M’s. She had to hold back a chuckle as she watched Draco’s saunter to the stool, his robes dramatically flourishing behind him, reminding her of a certain Potion’s Professor. There was no question where he would end up.

Why the hat barely even touched the boy before it screamed out, “SLYTHERIN!” His eyes searched the Hufflepuff table before landing on her at the Gryffindors, being sure to send her a smug smirk. Scoffing, she shook her head before softly clapping. He was so very pleased with himself.

It felt like this sorting was much longer than usual. Getting impatient, Cyra groaned, “How many bloody children is there this year?” Fred patted her head mockingly, “Now now, Cyra. I’m sure they’ll skip over the rest of the poor firsties just to get to your precious boy.” He took her hit to the shoulder with pride, grinning evilly as his twin joined in to tease her, “In fact, we personally asked them toss a couple of them off the boats just to make the wait time much shorter, just for you.”

Cyra hummed in response, before delivering the same blow to his shoulder, “Hush it George.” He rubbed his arm with a whine, “Easy there, Cy, you’ll leave a bruise!” She shot him a sickeningly sweet smile, “Good.”

 “Potter, Harry.”

GASP. That was it! Her eyes were instantly locked onto the boy, watching with excitement as he approached the stool nervously. Gripping onto the table with excitement, she silently chanted, “Hufflepuff..come on..” The students in the hall were having their own hushed whispers, but it was moreso about the fact the ‘Boy who Lived’ was in Hogwarts.

As time grew on, the hat remained silent. It was much longer than Longbottom’s, causing the students to speak louder, confused on what was happening. George tilted his head close to hers, whispering, “Bet he’ll be a Gryffindor.” Giving him a scoff, she challenged him, “You’re on.”

“When I win, what do I get?”

“You mean IF you win, which you won’t. If you do, I’ll make you your own cookie tin, one you won’t have to share with Fred.”

“Hey!”

“Perfect. If you win, which you won’t, Fred and I will sit with you for breakfast tomorrow with the Hufflepuffs.”

“What about my say?”

They both ignored Fred, taking each other’s hands and shaking firmly before giving Harry their attention again. The tension lingered for a moment longer before the Sorting Hat parted his lips and announced, “GRYFFINDOR.”

“HA! Told you!”

Cyra whined as the redheads leaped up, doing almost a jig as they shouted boisterously, “WE GOT POTTER! WE GOT POTTER!” She watched as Percy leaped up from his end, taking Harry’s hand and shaking it vigorously. Once Harry’s eyes made contact with hers, he said something to Percy to excuse himself before rushing over to her side. She pulled him into a hug, laughing despite her losing the bet.

“I-I was so nervous, I thought I’d have to perform magic or something. And then I wouldn’t be allowed in, and I would disappoint-“ Harry rambled, quietening down as he felt her cradle his face in her hands. Cyra gave him a soft smile as she squished his round cheeks teasingly, “Silly Potter, you wouldn’t disappoint anyone. Not one soul.”

He seemed to preen from her attention, smiling brightly up at her. Something in the back of her mind niggled, a small worry forming from how much he enjoyed affection instead of getting embarrassed like a boy his age would. But she decided to push it aside, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before releasing him, “You can sit next to me until Ron gets sorted.” He seemed to like that idea, quickly taking his seat beside her, thanking Fred as he scooted to allow him space.

“Speaking of Ron, look at the bloke, he looks almost green.” Fred commented, watching his brother as he approached the hat. Cyra saw what he was talking about, the poor kid looked like he was about to puke on stage, “Oh dear.” Was all she could say. She knew Ron wouldn’t calm down until it was all over with, then he would find another thing to freak out about.

Harry watched his friend worried, crossing his fingers beneath the table. Within seconds, the hat shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!” The redheaded twins leaped up and cheered for their brother as he joined them. Percy gave him a pat on the head over the table, “Well done, Ron, excellent.” Fred moved so Ron could take his place beside Harry, who now scooted to the side to allow him his spot back beside Cyra.

Once the sorting finished with a young slytherin, Zabini, Professor McGonagall whisked away the stool before taking her place at the head table. Headmaster Dumbledore stood from his seat, approaching the hall with wide arms and a pleased grin, “Welcome!  Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Now before we begin, I would like to say a few words.” Cyra sighed as she prepared for his next part of the speech, already knowing what about to happen.

He got a little twinkle in his eye as he addressed the now silent hall, clearing his throat, “And here they are.. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!” The hall remained silent, the new students staring at him in complete confusion. Nodding in approval, he thanked them before returning to his seat. Cyra resisted the urge to laugh at the shock as she and the other students clapped and cheered for the Headmaster.

One particular reaction that was amusing was Harry’s, who looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or clap. Looking over at Percy for guidance, he asked, “Is he..a bit mad?” Percy seemed amused at the question, “Mad? He’s a genius! The best wizard in the world!”

Cyra giggled, following up his answer with, “But he is mad, yes. Very mad.” Percy nodded in approval, “Positively batty. Potatoes, Harry?” The food at the table seemed to shock the boy, who took it all in with wide eyes. Cyra began plating her own food, her ears piquing at the sound of the boy’s stomach growling. He must be starving from the journey.

The pup is practically skin and bones. Moony wouldn’t be happy to know about this.

No, indeed he wouldn’t. But she placed that to the back of her mind once again, knowing now was not the time. She silenced her wolf, biting into her steak greedily, though she did wish it was a bit rarer. 

Once she was stuffed with meat and chocolate, she laid her head sleepily against George’s shoulder. Soon the food all disappeared, and they remained silent for Headmaster Dumbledore’s speech.

“Ahem, just a few more words now that we are all fed and warm. I have just a few start-of-term notices to give you. So please stay awake with me and then we may all retire. First years, you should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

Oh she could practically feel the stare directed at her and the boys. Whispering softly, she teased, “Yeah Fred. You heard him.” She heard him scoff before he replied, “Yeah, sure. I wasn’t the one going, ‘The only dangerous thing in here is me!’ Like you’re some big bad wolf.” She tried not to smile at the irony of his words.

“And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

Her head shot up at that, now wide awake. Harry laughed, but quickly stopped as he saw the older students weren’t, “He’s not serious, is he?” Cyra looked over at Dumbledore confused, seeing how grim he looked. He had to be joking. He wouldn’t put something life threatening to the students in the school?

Besides me?

“Now, finally! For the school song! Everyone pick your favorite tune!”

Oh dear merlin, please no. Cyra groaned, burying her face into her hands as everyone began singing. A chorus of different versions and horrible off-key tunes. She sat through it all, but slowly it all  drained out. That was, except for the twin brothers, who decided it would be funny to sing a funeral march tune.

Dumbledore guided them through the last of the song, conducting with his wand. Once they finished, he seemed to have teared up, wiping at his eyes, “Ah music. Magic beyond all we do here..” He allowed a dramatic pause before finishing, “Bedtime! Off you trot! Hopefully to your correct dormitories! Farewell!”

Cyra stood up from her seat, going over to Harry, “Right then, follow Percy and he’ll show you everything. You sleep tight.” He hugged her around her waist sleepily, “You’re not coming with?”

She petted his hair back, “No, I’m sorry to say I can’t. I’ve got to go with my house, we all live in separate dorms. I’ll see you at breakfast though, okay?” He nodded, giving her one more hug before following after Percy.

Feeling two pairs of hands slide around her waist, she hummed, “Goodnight boys.” Fred was the first to hug her, pulling her into his arms, almost whining, “Are you sure you can’t come with?” She smiled against his shoulder, reaching up to rub at his back, “I know, it’s such a crime to keep us apart.” George came behind her, squishing her against Fred as he hugged her, “We should really file a complaint with Dumbledore.” She laughed as she was forced into a Weasley sandwich, having to stand up on her tiptoes so she could breathe, “He’s right there, go file them!”

They squeezed her tighter instead, cutting off her air supply. After suffocating for a while, she was finally released. It was then she decided to try something a bit different. Leaning in, she gave them both a peck on the cheek, “Goodnight guys.” With that, she hurried over to Cedric, leaving the twins turning as red as their hair.

The next few weeks went splendidly, soon the fame of Harry Potter being at Hogwarts died down, and the poor boy could live his life freely. Well, as free as he could after somehow ending up on Filch’s bad side. Cyra tried to comfort him that almost everyone was on the caretaker’s hate list.

But all in all, it wasn’t too rough. But of course, the moment she would relax and enjoy the moment, it would come. In the moment she woke, she felt it. Groaning loudly, she rubbed her eyes in irritation, “Great.” Her first stop would be to Professor Snape it seemed.

Pulling her body up from the bed, she could feel her bones protesting. Pushing the curtains from her bed, she stared with narrowed eyes at her housemates who were sleeping soundly. A shower would be wise before she left for anywhere.

She made sure to lock the door behind her, not wanting another incident to happen like it did last year. Once the hot water hit her skin, she sighed with relief. It didn’t stop the cravings, but it did assist with how awful she felt.

I could tear into a steak right now. Rare and bloody.

Oh merlin, did that sound great. She grabbed her soap, washing her skin carefully. The light scent of lavender tickled her nose. That was one thing she liked about it, especially during this time, not being overbearing on the senses.

Once she finished, she rinsed her curls with a little water before hopping out. She really just needed to refresh them, the curls had gotten a bit loose from her tying it up in a bun the past few days. Once she was dressed in her uniform, she headed to her dorm again to snatch up her bag.

“Mmph..Lupin, you’re up already?”

Ah shoot. Spinning around on her heel, she smiled sweetly at her housemate, “Morning French, yeah.. I’ve got some questions for Professor Snape for our upcoming essay.”

“Ugh..good luck.” Sarah muttered grumpily before turning away from her, snuggling back into her duvet. She waited a moment to allow her to fall asleep again before she hurried out. Thankfully no one was in the common room to stop her in her path.

Get to Snape. Take the potion. Then steak.

A plan that had her hot on her heels, flying past the poltergeists in the halls. Once she made it to the Potion’s classroom, she took a deep gasp for breath before knocking. Expecting her, the door swung open, the snarky tone calling out, “Inside, Lupin.”

She stepped carefully inside, shutting the door behind her before hurrying on her journey to the Professor, the glowing vial sitting upon his desk.

He gave her a look up and down before saying, “You look haggard. Honestly girl, do you ever sleep?” She kept herself from snapping, knowing this was his way of showing he cared. Taking the vial with a polite smile, she uncorked it, simply replying, “Too busy cursing out the moon.” Before she dunked the entire content of the potion into her mouth, instantly grimacing at the taste.

She swallowed it all, not wasting a drop, but that didn’t mean it tasted anything better than sewage. Gagging once it was all down, she gave him the vial back, “There has to be a way to make that stuff taste better.” He said nothing, plucking the vial from her fingers before going over to his cabinets.

Once she got over the icky taste, she straightened herself, looking over at him, “Thank you-“

“Enough. For the millionth time, you do not have to thank me, Lupin. Take yourself to breakfast at once. I’m sure your appetite is almost..beastly.”

Cyra huffed at the remark, turning away from him to leave, “Yeah yeah..” Once she opened the door, she got a small smirk, quickly calling out, “Thank you!” She then shut it behind her before he could retort, snickering. It was so fun to harass Professor Snape with kindness. She was a Hufflepuff after all.

Pushing herself off the door, she heard someone call out her name. Looking over at the dark corridor, she saw Malfoy appear with two boys, “Lupin. What are you doing down in the dungeons?” He looked genuinely curious, raising a blonde brow at her.

Humming, she gave the same excuse she always used, “Had a question to ask Professor Snape?” Then she changed the subject, “Are you three heading to the Great Hall? Want to walk together?”

Draco seemed to consider her offer before replying, “Well, either way, we’d be walking the same way. So very well.” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, forcing a chipper tone, “Great!” She turned to the other two boys, “I’m Cyra Lupin. We didn’t meet before.”

They stared at her silently, but didn’t seem very unwelcoming, just..quiet. Draco stepped forward, motioning to them both, “This is Crabbe and Goyle.” Cyra nodded, understanding, “Gotcha. Pleased to meet you two.”

The silence continued on the walk to the Great Hall, though Cyra could feel the curious stare from Draco. But she honestly couldn’t bring herself to care. She was so hungry. Practically drooling at the thought of bacon, she sped up her steps.

When they entered, they went their separate ways without a word. The moment she sat down at her table; she was piling her plate high with different meats. She placed some greens as well, but that was just for show.

A couple bites into her sausage, she was interrupted again, “Q-Quite an appetite, M-Ms. L-Lupin.” She could sense him coming, but said nothing until he spoke. Taking a napkin, she politely dabbed her mouth before turning around to face him, “Morning, Professor Quirrell! I’m afraid I didn’t eat much last night at dinner, so I woke up positively ravenous.”

 “I-Indeed. Well, b-be sure to eat w-well, we don’t w-want you so hungry you eat a s-student! Ah-ha!” He gave a shakey laugh at his own joke, prompting Cyra to laugh as well. Though she was just being polite. A part of her didn’t enjoy the underlying message behind it though. Surely he had been notified of her condition like the others? Was his humor simply dark?

“W-Well, I’ll leave you be. I l-look forward to seeing y-you in class this a-afternoon.” Professor Quirrell excused himself, heading up to the Head Table. She gave a wave before turning back to her meal, reminding herself to eat carefully. She didn’t need to look like a wild dog as she ate.

She ate until she almost felt sick, placing her fork on her plate with a sigh. She felt her bones creaking with each movement, reminding her of the transformation that would be waiting for her soon. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she jerked, looking up.

“You okay Cy?” Cedric spoke softly, his face scrunched up in worry. She gave him a weak smile, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t get much sleep.” He nodded before sitting beside her, beginning to make his plate. Glancing around the hall, she saw students begin to shuffle in and take their places at the tables. Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for familiar red hair, but didn’t spot them.

Cedric was whispering something, catching her attention, “I’m sorry, what?” She asked quietly, looking at him curiously. He glanced around before repeating himself, his voice low, “Are you feeling cramps?” Cyra was sure the shock was very clear on her face, as Cedric gave her a weak pat on her head, looking just as uncomfortable as her, “It’s okay, my mum told me about it last summer. She said I needed to know since you were my friend, and I was confused when you couldn’t show up to classes sometimes. Mum explained you must have been an..early bloomer.”

She really wished she wasn’t having this conversation right now. It was sweet. Cedric was always a big sweetheart. But she really didn’t want to discuss her periods with him. But she also knew that it would be the only viable excuse for her. With a strained smile, she forced a nod, “Y-Yeah, my cramps are just really bad right now.”

 He looked at her in pity, before reaching over to spoon a chunk of the chocolate pudding on her plate, “Here, mum says it helps.”

She tried not to laugh at how absurd this situation was, picking up her spoon and beginning to eat some of the pudding, “Thank you Cedric.” He watched her with a proud stare, before turning back to eat his breakfast.

Once they finished, Cedric was sidled right alongside her, offering to carry her bag. As she tried to refuse, he insisted, “You don’t need to strain your body, Cyra. Mum said it can make your body weak-“ Cyra let out a groan before giving him her bag, “Okay! Okay! Take it! Just stop talking so loudly about it!” She then began to stomp off, Cedric keeping up with her with a smug grin.

After a moment of silence, Cyra began to feel bad for snapping at him. He was just trying to help her. Sighing, she glanced at him, tucking a curl behind her ear, “Sorry for my attitude, I didn’t mean-“ Cedric took her hand, cutting her off, “I know. It’s okay. Mum told me that you’ll be in a mood during it. No harm done.” She resisted the urge to snap that she wasn’t having her bloody period, but let it go. She squeezed his hand, straining out, “Thank you for understanding.”

It wasn’t too bad having his help that week, as the days began to edge closer to the full moon, she began to actually need it.  Today was definitely one of those days. She woke late in a cold sweat, her body trembling with each step. She really didn’t look forward to Professor Snape’s comments on her appearance, one glance in the mirror was enough to make her swear off looking at her reflection for the rest of the week.

As she got down, she saw Cedric waiting for her, his eyes filled with worry as he took in her form. Before she could speak, he rushed her, taking her bag off her shoulder, and linking their arms together.

“You hold onto me if you need to. I’ll be here to support you.” He proclaimed, puffing his chest out. She let out a weak laugh, before telling him their first destination. He sweetly escorted her to the dungeons, waiting outside the door of Professor Snape’s classroom to allow her privacy to take what he thought was a potion to ease the pain.

The potions professor said nothing about her haggard appearance, though he did not even attempt to restrain the disdaining sneer. At the Great Hall, Cedric continued to mother her, though he tried to insist she eat more fruits and greens. When Fred and George joined them, Cedric scolded them for handling her roughly, to which they completely ignored.

She didn’t complain as she was dragged off by them, inhaling their comforting scents. They spoke about their upcoming prank with her, guiding her through the halls. She half-listened, her head fuzzy as she leaned against George.

He didn’t notice for a while, excitedly joining his brother in explaining the procedure, “So we began to think, what if we could make potions that could cause one to get sick but only for a limited amount? It’s pretty genius, something to get out of class, and we could even sell it!” At her soft hum, he glanced down, finally taking in her state.

“Whoa! Cyra?” He quickly reached up to feel her forehead, “You’re burning up!” His exclaim finally caught Fred’s attention, who felt her forehead next, “You’re right, she is. Should we take her to Madam Pomfrey?” Cyra groaned, shaking her head, “No no, you shouldn’t. She will be fine. Just need some..fresh air.”

George scoffed, “Right, cause fine people talk of themselves in third person.” He pulled her close, leading her out to the courtyard. Fred grabbing her things and following after. As she felt the sunshine hit her face, she closed her eyes quickly, wincing at how bright it was.

“Place me on the ground if you don’t mind.” She asked politely, holding onto George. He obeyed, helping her onto the ground slowly. As she felt the cool ground, she let out a satisfied sigh, laying back on the grass.

Fred got on the ground with her, brushing her curls out of her face, “Cyra, are you sure you’re okay? You look so pale.” George joined him, his face pinched together in worry, “Yeah. Paler than usual, at least.” She stayed silent, focusing on their touches and scents. Beginning to get stressed out from her silence, Fred grasped her shoulder, “Cyra, please. Talk to us. You know you can tell us anything.”

They waited a moment, their breaths hitching as she remained still. Then a soft snore left her lips, causing their bodies to collapse with relief. George let out a weak laugh, looking down at her, “How in merlin is she asleep so fast?” Fred shook his head, letting out a sigh, “She must not be sleeping again. You saw how tired she looked.”

“I hope she’s okay.”

“I do too, Gred.”

George slowly laid himself down on the grass, his twin copying him. Taking their places beside her, they each took one of her hands and made the decision to stay with her until she woke.

It was shouting that woke Cyra, her eyes slowly opening to see a broom hovering above in the sky. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she spotted the blonde hair glinting in the sunlight.

“Give it here! Or I’ll knock you off your broom!”

That voice. Her suspicions confirmed, Harry came into view, hovering high in the air on his broom. She hear Malfoy reply something, but it was forgotten as panic seized her at the sight of Harry shooting off after something. He was too high. Much too high.

Sitting up quickly, she gasped out, “Harry!” But he couldn’t hear her, going in a steep decline towards the ground. As she saw him take a tumble on the ground, she pushed herself up and run over to him. Fred and George woke with her screaming, rubbing the sleep from their eyes as she rushed off.

The children were cheering for him as he laid on the ground. Cyra picked up speed, screaming at the same time as Professor McGonagall who ran out from the castle, “HARRY POTTER!”

He visibly winced, quickly getting to his feet, his head whipping between his head of house and Cyra. Professor McGonagall was practically speechless, her glasses glinting intimidatingly, “Never in all my time at Hogwarts! You might have broken your neck! You might have-“

Cyra took over, shouting with her hands on her hips, “What on earth were you thinking, Harry!? You could have broken something! You could have split your head open! You could have DIED! Do you want to give me a heart attack, Harry Potter?! Cause that’s what you almost gave me! Of all the foolish things to do, you sky dive out of the sky on an old school broom!? Does your life mean nothing to you!?”

Professor McGonagall stammered, motioning to Cyra, “I agree, Ms. Lupin! You took the words practically out of my mouth!” Harry was practically trembling, staring up at Cyra with wide eyes that almost broke her heart. Sighing, she softened her gaze, motioning for him to come over, “Come here, let me get a look at you.”

He slowly approached her, sniffling as she checked him over for injuries. Once she was sure he hadn’t broken anything, she pulled him into a tight hug, “Don’t you ever do that again, do you understand me?” Her voice was shaking as she spoke, holding him firmly in her arms. Harry realized quickly how terrified she must have been, hugging her back with a quiet mumble that he promised.

“But Malfoy-“

“That’s enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter. Follow me.”

Cyra released him, allowing him to follow after Professor McGonagall back into the castle. Hermione soon came over to her, trying to explain, “I tried to stop him, Cyra. I swear! He’s so stubborn and w-“ She quietened down at the hand on her head, patting her softly. Cyra sighed, looking down at her tiredly, “I know. Thank you for trying to reason with him, sweetie.” Hermione stared up at her in wonder, before noticing how exhausted the older teen looked, her pale skin causing her eyes to look almost inhumanly gold.

“Are you-“

“CYRA!”

Hermione looked to the sources of the voice, seeing Ron’s older brothers running over to them. Cyra let out a sigh, turning back to them, “Harry’s okay. He managed to somehow survive-“ Fred grasped at her face, caressing her cheeks, “We’re not worried about that lad, Cyra. You can’t go running off after you just fainted!”

Hermione gasped in shock, “You fainted!?” The older girl waved her off, “They’re being dramatic, I just took a little nap.” Fred rolled his eyes, “Yeah, okay, we’ll call it that then.” Cyra took his hands off her face, trying to assure him, “Really Fred, I’m fine.” She went to take a step back, but her legs were too weak, either from shock or her lack of strength. George managed to grab her before she fell, holding her  tightly to his chest, “Right then, we’re taking you to Madam Pomfrey.”

“No! I’m fine guys, seriously-“ She yelped as she was lifted up in George’s arms, grabbing onto him, “Let me down! I’m fine!” Fred smirked at her, “Fight us back then, though you may faint before you can even land a punch.” She glared at him, before giving in, allowing them to carry her off.

Hermione watched them in worry, glancing over at Ron as he stood beside her, “Is she going to be okay?” He rubbed at his nose, not even bothered, “Who? Cyra? Oh yeah, she’s always been a bit frail. Don’t worry, the twins have her. We should be more worried about what’ll happen to Harry. They can’t kick out the Boy-Who-Lived, right?”

“She looks like a corpse!”

“Her body is burning up, and she’s so sweaty!”

“She has feelings, guys.” Cyra grumbled, her arms crossed over her chest. They ignored her, continuing to list out her symptoms to Madam Pomfrey, who listened patiently.  Once they finished, Madam Pomfrey gave them a smile, “You’re right boys, she looks absolutely awful. She should have come to me much sooner.” Cyra flinched, looking away from her pointed stare. She didn’t really feel like being scolded right now.

“Why don’t you boys give her space and head to class, I’ll take good care of her.”

Cyra’s eyes widened, turning to Fred and George,  “Wait, wait a minute. Don’t go.” Madam Pomfrey placed a hand on her shoulder, laughing merrily, “Now, Ms. Lupin. Weren’t you just complaining about them hurting your feelings? Let them go on.”

She felt her heart sink as she was given smug waves before she was abandoned in the infirmary. The jolly smile on Madam Pomfrey’s face fell, and Cyra let out a groan, falling back on the cot.

“WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU THINKING, MS. LUPIN?! YOU COULD HAVE FAINTED DOWN THE STAIRS! YOU COULD HAVE DIED!”

She covered her face in embarrassment at the situation, now regretting how she shouted at Harry, “I’m fine!”  She heard the scoff, and the arrangement of things beside her, “Oh yes, I’m sure you’re fine. Fine with being the walking dead! You’re just like your father! Suffering in silence!”

She couldn’t help but pout at being compared to her Papa, staring up at the ceiling in defiance. Hearing paper rustle, she waited for the questioning to begin.

“How long have you been sleeping?”

“Enough.”

“How many hours?”

“…like two, three maybe.”

There was a moment of silence, the sharp inhale from Madam Pomfrey causing Cyra to cover her ears, already knowing what was coming.

“TWO HOURS!? CYRA LUPIN, I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU-“

Chapter Text

Cyra was at a loss for words. Fred and George waited for her reaction to the news, playing around with the potion bottles by her bedside. She had been ordered on rest by Madam Pomfrey, and the elder woman didn’t trust her to do it out of her sight, so Cyra was confined to the hospital wing.

She took a deep breath, her amber eyes blinking wildly, “So..” They turned to look at her, grins growing. Cyra licked her lips as she tried to gather her thoughts, “Instead of punishing Harry…she made him seeker for the team? When he’s a first year?” Fred was the first one to speak, taking her hand, “Yes. But we will watch after him, we promise.” George rushed to take her other, snickering, “Absolutely! With us being amazing beaters, we’ll be sure to protect all of Potter’s fingers and toes.”

“Can’t promise for his ear though.”

“Oh the ear may have to go.”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t push them off, “What made McGonagall think this was a good idea? He doesn’t even have a broom!” The twins shared a look, catching Cyra’s attention, “Wait, what? Does he have a broom? That’s against the rules! First years can’t have brooms!”

“Well, from what Ronny-kins said, it’s not just a broom.”

“It’s the Nimbus Two Thousand.”

“NIMBUS TWO THOUSAND?!” She shrieked, her eyes wide in terror,  “Is she mad!?” Fred and George grabbed onto her as she tried to crawl out the bed, “Let me go! That broom is MUCH too fast for a boy his age! He’s just learned to fly! I said let me go!”

Fred tried not to laugh, biting his tongue as he shoved her back on the pillows, “Now now, Ms. Lupin! You are under strict orders to rest! You are a patient!” George pulled the covers over her, tucking her in, “Yeah, Cy, you need to heal. You don’t need to be worrying about little Potter fracturing a bone!”

“You’re not helping!” She complained, pushing their hands off her, “Who’s even going to coach him!?”

“Wood of course.”

“WOOD!?” She started struggling again, causing them both to laugh, “That nutjob!? Do you not remember his speech last year!? ‘Don’t come back unscathed, or I’ll know you didn’t try. We either win or we die!’ He’s insane!”

George shushed her in between his chuckling, “Cyra, really, it’ll be fine!” Fred snorted, trying to hold her in his arms, “Yeah Cy! Oliver wouldn’t let his new star seeker die!”

“Okay that’s enough you two! Stop riling up this poor dear!” Madam Pomfrey rounded the corner with a new cart of potions. Both boys hopped up, acting innocent. She shooed them away from Cyra’s bed, uncorking a vial, “You two are going to give Ms. Lupin grey hairs if you keep frightening her so.”

Cyra pressed her lips tightly together before speaking, “Madam Pomfrey, can I please be ex-“

“No you cannot. You are staying here where I can see you.”

She sighed loudly, dropping against the pillows, “Great.”

“Don’t worry dear, you’ll be out by Halloween. Just got to get through this week.”

Cyra glanced over at the twins, who were staring at the shimmering blue liquid in the vial curiously. She felt her stomach drop as she recognized it. That was her wolfsbane. Pomfrey gave her the vial with a soft smile, “Bottoms up, dear.”

She placed the vial to her lips, hoping that they wouldn’t ask questions. But they always did opposite of what she wanted. As she dunked it back, they asked in unison, “What’s that?” She forced herself to swallow it, gagging as it slid down her throat.

Madam Pomfrey handled it before she could, replying calmly, “It’s a potion for feminine issues.” The twins instantly looked uncomfortable, turning pale in the face. Cyra raised a brow at them, watching as they packed their stuff up.

“Right, we’ll let you rest. Right George?”

“Right Fred. Gotta get your rest, with your..”

“Feminine…issues..” Fred trailed off at the end, swallowing nervously.

Cyra sighed softly, waving them off, “Go on, you’re free to go. Go do boy stuff.” She didn’t have to tell them twice, they were off. Once she was left alone, she glanced at Madam Pomfrey, whispering, “Thank you..”

“Of course, dear. Now you get your rest.” Madam Pomfrey reached down, stroking a hand over Cyra’s hair before going off to her next patient.

It didn’t take long for the dreaded night to come. After a week of being isolated in the hospital wing, and doing her schoolwork in bed, she was itching to get out. Once her head of house appeared, she got to her feet, following after her.

Professor Sprout, as usual, was very chatty. She told Cyra about the new snapdragons she got for the second year class, how Longbottom was showing promise in the subject, and whatever pranks the twins have pulled in her absence.

Once they arrived at the Whomping Willow, she pressed at the knot, calming the swinging limbs. Cyra stared down at the hole, feeling dread sinking in. Something didn’t feel right. Professor Sprout cupped her cheek, lifting her head up to look at her, “I’m so sorry dear. I wish I could make things easier for you. Minerva and I placed some new pillows and blankets down there for you, so you’ll be nice and comfy.”

She managed to give the Professor a small smile, thanking her before heading down into her personal hell. Once she entered the shack, she looked around. After her first transformation, the whole shack had been cleaned up. It now was like a glorified doghouse. Letting out a sharp sigh, she tossed her bag over to the side of the room, “Great.”

Time ticked by slowly, and she felt her bones ache with each minute that passed. Now was the time that she was truly alone. No housemates, no twins, and no Madam Pomfrey to hover. Relaxing her muscles, she looked up at the ceiling, allowing her eyes to water. She could finally cry in peace.

A soft sob broke from her lips, the tears falling down her cheeks. She let herself mourn for her humanity. Mourn for what could have been. She allowed the guilt, the anger, and the sadness. To feel them all, in solitude.

The moon was rising, so she stood, stripping her clothes off slowly. She ran her fingers over the raised flesh on her shoulder, the teeth indents that interrupted smooth skin. She still could feel the fear of that night. The feeling of being chased. She would always be on edge, waiting for Fenrir to finish the game and end her suffering.

A creak nearby caught her attention, causing her to whirl her head towards the doorway. Her amber eyes glowed in the darkness. She grabbed onto the blanket on the bed, wrapping her body in it. Did one of the Professors forget something?

Feeling her canines begin to grow in her mouth, she called out, “It’s not safe! Head back to the castle!” Her voice was shaking, not wanting to hurt one of Professors. As the door creaked open, she began to wish it was a Professor. Not her worst nightmare.

“Cyra?” George whispered, staring at her confused. Fred rushed in, grabbing onto her arms, “Cyra! Are you okay!? Why isn’t it safe?” She couldn’t say anything. She just stared at them in horror, tears blurring her vision. They both crowded her, trying to get her to explain.

“Cyra, why are you here?”

“We saw on the map. Why did Sprout take you here?”

“Are you okay?”

Her breath quickened, her chest tightening as she saw the moon getting higher in the sky. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. It finally sunk when Fred’s wand lit up the room, revealing her shivering figure. She felt the bile rise in her throat as their eyes drifted to her shoulder, seeing the mark.

“Cyra….”

“What is..”

She flinched as they reached out to touch her, finally shouting, “GET OUT! You need to go!” She backed up towards the bed, clinging to the blanket around her. Fred’s face was scrunched up in anger, shouting back, “Not until you explain! Please! Enough excuses!” George tried to calm him, stepping forward to diffuse the situation, “Cyra, we’re just worried. You’ve looked terrible. Every month, you look like you’re a corpse. Something has to be up. I know we shouldn’t have followed you, but we care about you.”

She shook her head quickly, before letting out a cry of pain as her leg snapped in half to reform, “FUCK! GO! PLEASE GO!” Fred tried to go to her, but George stopped him. They both watched in horror as her body broke and reformed, her screams ringing in their ears and breaking their hearts, fur growing from her skin. Her last words is what sent them out, “PLEASE GO. I DON’T WANT YOU TO SEE- AGH, I CAN’T HURT YOU!”

She watched as they ran out, her sobs turning into whimpering. Once the transformation finished, she was in too much pain to move. They saw her. She could still see the horror in their eyes. Her best friends. Her boys. She let out a whine, pushing herself up onto her paws.

Once she was steady, she went over to the mirror, meeting the gaze of the beast. She was horrid. A monster. No matter how hard she tried to conceal it, they still found out. Her Papa was right.

Turning away, she grew agitated as she thought about how they looked at her. How angry Fred was at being lied to. They must hate her. She hated herself. Her body felt like it was on fire, her throat rumbling with angry growls. While the wolfsbane let her keep her consciousness, it didn’t repress the beast.

With a snarl, she charged at the mirror, slamming her body into it. Broken shards rained down, slicing at her skin. But it wasn’t enough. She stood up on her hind legs, reaching up to claw at herself. She was so angry. She wanted to die.

A claw caught her eye, causing her to yelp, red filling her vision. She slammed herself against anything she could find. Blood dripped from her wounds, staining the wood. She let out despaired howls, throwing herself against the walls with heavy thuds.

She was a monster, she deserved to suffer. She convinced herself of this, finding a relief in the pain she caused herself. It was like repentance. The world grew blurry, her body feeling like it was floating. Did she do it? Did she beat the beast?

She let her eyes close, flopping onto the ground with a heavy thud.

McGonagall had been the one who found her, screaming in terror as she saw the young girl bleeding out on the floors, her flesh scraped apart. She sent a patronus in her panic, summoning the others to hurry, before she tried to heal what she could. As her hands became coated with the girl’s blood, she let out a sob, “D-Don’t you dare die on me, young lady!” Tears fell from her eyes as she tried to heal the gashes on her back, but they refused. It was werewolf inflicted, which meant no healing spell would work. She cradled the girl in her arms, stroking her hair, her hands trembling.

Severus was the first to arrive, barraging down the door, “Honestly what has the-“ He froze as he saw Cyra, his voice softer as he spoke, “She’s lost a lot of blood. Pomfrey is on the way. Dumbledore is already notifying her father.” Minerva gasped as she realized the poor man would have to see his daughter like this, “Oh no.. Remus..”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. She’s not dead yet.” He snapped, bending down to asses the damage. As he looked over the wounds, he sighed, “We’ll need to transport her secretly. I’m sure she wouldn’t want anyone to see her like this.” Minerva sniffled, wiping her cheeks, “Why on earth would she do this anyway? She’s been injured a couple times, but she’s never..”

“Tried to kill herself?” He replied, his voice cracking for a moment from it’s calmness, “No. She’d rather torture herself. I’ve seen it in her eyes. She doesn’t consider herself worthy of anything. It was only a matter of time before she snapped.”

“You shouldn’t say that! She is a girl-“

“But he is correct, Minerva.” A low voice interrupted. They turned to face Headmaster Dumbledore, who arrived with Madam Pomfrey.

As the healer got to work, he continued, his eyes staring at Cyra’s form sadly, “Fenrir did something to her that night. He didn’t just attack her. He played with her, made her fight for her life, even when in the end it wouldn’t matter. He just wanted to see her terrified. He chose to keep her alive, but just barely. It was enough to instill fear in her. A message.”

“What was the message?” Minerva asked, her voice shaking. Dumbledore’s face was grim, the twinkle gone from his eye, “’Your life is nothing but a game, and I get to decide when it ends.’”

“Remus, you have to let Pomfrey-“

“I’M HER FATHER!” Remus spatted back, his eyes narrowing at Dumbledore, “I am her father. And no one told me she was struggling!? She wasn’t sleeping!?” The Headmaster stayed calm, placing his hands up in defense, “I understand you’re upset, Remus. I would be-“

“No.” Remus cut him off, shaking his head, “No, you don’t understand.” He pointed towards the curtains, growling, “That is my fucking daughter! That is my baby! The last time I saw her, she was in one piece! She was smiling! She wasn’t bleeding out, looking like she did when Fenrir attacked her!”

“What happened to Cyra?” The young voices drew the adult’s attention, seeing the redheaded twins at the entrance. Professor McGonagall rushed over to them, “Weasleys! You cannot be here!  Class is canceled, so please return to your common room!”

They ignored her, hurrying to Remus. Fred was the one to speak, “Mr. Lupin, is Cyra okay?” Remus didn’t know what to say, turning away to hide his tears, “They’re.. Madam Pomfrey is doing her best.”

George furrowed his brows at that, “We shouldn’t have left her..” That piqued the adult’s attention.  Fred let out a heavy sigh, tears forming in his eyes, “It’s all our fault. She…she told us to go. But we should have stayed.”

Remus grabbed onto their shoulders, shaking them, “What do you mean you should have stayed!? Where were you!?” Fred stammered, “W-We went into the Shrieking Shack. We were just s-so worried about her!” George took over, “We didn’t know what was going on! B-But then she.. she started..”

Dumbledore took a step forward, speaking softly, “Mr. Weasleys, did you see her transform?” At their hesitant nods, Remus let them go, stepping back. It all made sense. The adults all shared a look, before looking towards the curtains.

“W-We’re really sorry. If we stayed, we could have made sure she didn’t get hurt while transforming.” Fred spoke softly, his voice cracking.

“That’s not what happened.” Remus replied quietly, staring at the curtains, “She didn’t want you to know. Didn’t want anyone to know..” His eyes watered, “It’s my fault. I was the one who told her to lie, I’m the one who made her ashamed-“

Minerva came over, resting her hand on his shoulder, “Remus. You did that for her safety. You wanted her to live a normal life, without prejudice.” He let out shaking breath, closing his eyes, “She.. She did all of that to herself. I knew she was insecure, but I didn’t think..”

It all clicked. Fred and George collapsed to their knees, tears falling down. Fred looked at the floor, his sight blurry, “It’s our fault. She hurt herself because we found out..” George gritted his teeth, trying to keep control of himself, “W-We were just worried. But I just couldn’t.. the screaming. She was in so much pain.”

Severus winced as he imagined the scene they were conjuring, knowing the girl must have been desperately trying to keep herself together for them, fighting the transformation. Remus let in a deep breath, reaching over to the boys on the floor, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, “No, boys. I knew eventually you both would find out. And I think so did Cyra, which is why she tried so hard to keep you from it.”

Fred stared at the ground, sniffling, “We love her though. We don’t care if she’s..” George finished for him, “A werewolf.” His bottom lip quivered as the tears fell down his cheeks, “She’s still Cyra.”

Remus managed a weak smile, patting their shoulders, “Be sure to tell her that when she recovers. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” They nodded quickly. He finished with, “And also, be sure not to tell anyone. I’m sure you know this has to remain quiet.”

“Our lips are sealed.”

He nodded, “Good boys.” With that, he got up, brushing past Dumbledore, “I’m going to see her.”

“Remus, that isn’t-“

“I don’t care what you think. I’m her father.”

Remus stepped past the curtains, making sure no one else could see inside before turning to the scene before him. Madam Pomfrey paused as she saw him, her eyes red and swollen from crying, “Remus…she..” She quickly went back to pouring the dittany into the wounds, not wanting to waste a second.

He looked over his pup, trembling as he took in the exposed flesh, “Oh my love.” Cyra was halfway healed, the gash on her right eye was still open but slowly healing. He came over, stroking his hand over Cyra’s curls, “Will she be able to see out of it?” Madam Pomfrey gave an affirmative nod as she worked at the cuts on her legs, “She just took a chunk of skin, but managed not to scratch any of her actual retina.”

“Can I help?”

“Just be here. When she wakes, she’ll need her Papa.”

And so he did. He waited by her bedside, watching as her chest slowly rose and fell. Her body was covered in bandages, her right eye as well. It would take her a while to heal. He held her small hand in his, stroking the soft skin underneath his thumb.

It felt like when he finally stopped crying, the tears kept coming back. He lifted the hand up to his mouth, kissing the skin softly. He stared at her face, she looked so peaceful, her color slowly coming back to her cheeks. Reaching up, he ran a thumb over her cheek, “You’re such a pretty girl. My worst fear, you know? Everybody said it would happen, even when you were eight years old. You’d be a little heartbreaker. And I’d have to curse the hormonal teenagers away from you.”

When she didn’t reply, he swallowed thickly, continuing, “And they were right. You have two boys so madly in love with you that they’d follow you into the shrieking shack.” He chuckled weakly, “I can’t even bring myself to curse them though. I’m sure anyone who had the pleasure of knowing you would do the same.”

He checked her chest to make sure she was still breathing, before squeezing her hand, “You’ve always been like that. So disarming. You’ve even got Severus Snape teary-eyed over you. That man has a heart of ice, and you managed to make him cry. Not to mention Minerva. I swear she’s like a fountain of tears. Heh…I’m no better. I have nothing but you, Cyra. It’s times like now that I wish..I wish Sirius was here. I wish he could hold me, and tell me that you’re going to be okay. I’m sure he’d have some extravagant bouquet for you to wake up to.”

He let out a sob, hanging his head, “Cyra, you can’t ever.. please don’t ever do this to me again. I can’t lose you too. Please don’t make me lose you. I know it’s selfish. But you’re my little light. You’re the only thing keeping me going. I can’t do this without you.”

A soft squeeze was all he got in reply, but it was enough. He peppered kisses on her hand, whispering, “Please.. Please wake up soon.”

It took three days, but she did. But at the worst time possible. The entire school was in an uproar, the news given by Professor Quirrell, a troll loose in the dungeon. Remus went with Madam Pomfrey to help set up a protective ward on the wing.

As the sound of children terrified screaming entered the halls, Cyra’s eyes slowly fluttered open. Everyone was in a panic, trying to help the students to their dormitories, while the Professors were trying to figure out how this happened.

Cyra grunted as she tried to move herself up, her body still in pain. No one heard her. Professor McGonagall rushed in with the twins, shouting, “Pomfrey! These two refused to go their dormitories. Gave each other black eyes so they’d be taken here. Have them!” Madam Pomfrey hurried over to them, tsking, “Honestly you two! I will let you know when she wakes. We’ve got the wing secured.”

She then looked at McGonagall, “Speaking of, how is the situation?” The Professor let out an annoyed huff,  “You’d never believe it. Potter, Weasley, and Granger all decided to take it on. Knocked it out good too. Still. Unbelievable.”

Remus came over to them, chuckling, “Well, Harry is his father’s son. Potter’s are known for being unbelievable.” Cyra watched them, smiling softly as she watched them all interact. It was only when Fred made eye contact with her that her smile fell. He didn’t believe his eyes for a moment, his brother turning to look in the same direction.

“CYRA!” George shouted, running over to her, his twin right behind him. Cyra jumped as he shouted, tears forming in her eye, “I-I-I’m sorry…I-I..” They both wrapped their arms tightly around her, burying their faces into her neck. She let out a sob, seeing the adults staring at her in shock, “I-I’m so sorry…”

They all ran over to her, grins on their faces. Remus took her hand, tears of joy forming, “Oh merlin, Cyra. I’m so happy you’re awake.” She went to reply, but Fred and George took her attention, babbling away.

“We would never hate you! Before you say it! We love you!”

“Yeah! And we weren’t scared of you! We were scared for you!”

“You were in pain!”

“We don’t like to see you in pain!”

“But we love you!”

“Always.”

They finished in unison, “You’re our Cyra.” She sat there in shock, her face wet from tears. Both boys sat up and gave her cheeks a soft and lingering kiss. Cyra’s eyes widened, warmth flooding to her cheeks, “I-I love you too. Both of you.”

Remus shooed them off, “Okay okay, you’ve had enough! It’s my turn!” Cyra let out a laugh as the twins glared at him, looking at Remus with a weak smile, “Hi Papa.” He stared at her, “Hi pup. C’mere.” He took her in his arm, hugging her tightly, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hold you again. My sweet girl.” She let out a sob against his shoulder, trying to apologize again. He shushed her, stroking her hair, “I know. It’s okay. I’m here.”

Professor McGonagall sniffed, wiping at her eyes, “Well. It seems two amazing things happened tonight..” She gave Cyra a soft smile before heading out, “I must go tell Severus and Albus. They’ll want to know.”

Cyra nuzzled her head against Remus’s sweater, sighing softly, “What did I miss? What was that all about a troll?”

Fred and George shared a grin before turning to her, “Well…”

Chapter Text

It was Quidditch season, which meant that Fred and George were absent quite a lot, including Harry. She was sure they weren’t enjoying it though, considering their Captain was Oliver Wood. She saw the way Harry looked after his first lesson with him, and the poor boy looked like he had the wind knocked out of him.

It was all and well with her, since she had her own life outside of those redheads. Though a part of her didn’t feel right since they hadn’t been able to really discuss her furry little problem. They had told her they had a lot of questions, but the three hadn’t been able to have a moment alone to speak. Each time they thought they had a moment of peace, Wood would be rounding the corner, screaming at the top of his lungs for them abandoning practice.

“Does that look right to you, Ms. Lupin?”

“Hm?” She blinked, glancing over to Terrence Higgs, seeing him holding a potted Asphodel. He gave her a sheepish smile as the leaves fell off of the stem, turning pitch black as they floated down to the soil. She closed her jaw that hung open, chucking weakly, “H-How in merlin did you manage that?”

He groaned, pushing it towards her, “Nothing! I gave it water like the instructions said!” She took the pot in her hands, examining it, “With ashes in the water, right?” There was a silence. She pressed her lips together to hold back her laugh, before sliding the pot to him, “Perhaps you should ask Cedric, he’s much better at plants than I am. He should be able to help you get this poor thing back in shape.” He gave a sigh before picking it up and going lower down the table.

Cyra watched as he approached Cedric, and giggled as she saw Cedric’s face fall as he saw the plant. As he turned to look at her, she turned her head toward her work that she had already finished.

“It’s incredible. He’s older than both of us and yet he’s so helpless against plants.”

Her lips quirked up at the comment, organizing her papers to place in her satchel, “Funny, Warrington. So that wasn’t you in second year screaming bloody murder when the leaping toadstool jumped at you?”  

She glanced up to see the Slytherin glaring at her, before he parted his lips to respond, “I was but a schoolboy, and that damn plant was coming for me.” Cyra raised an amused brow, “But a schoolboy? That was last year, Warrington.”

“Things are different this year, Lupin.” He sneered back, “I’m different.” She watched as he ran his fingers through his dirty blonde hair, puffing his chest out so much he looked like a frog. She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but she decided to be polite and just smile. That seemed to satisfy his ego, as he relaxed his posture, motioning down at Higgs again, “Can you believe he was made prefect? They must have been desperate.”

“Why are you so keen to insult a member of your own house?”

“Other houses aren’t as nice as Hufflepuff, Lupin. In Slytherin, everyone is watching you, judging your every move. You show one weakness, they’ll come for your throat.” Warrington replied, narrowing his eyes at Higgs.

Cyra watched him curiously, “Sounds awful.” She slid her parchment into her bag, thinking about what he said, “We’re not all nice though.” Warrington looked back at her, raising a brow at her statement. She looked around them before leaning in to whisper, “In Hufflepuff, we’re a bit more secretive about it. Harsh words and insults thinly veiled in sweet words and a bright smile. It’ll cut you deep, but merlin forbid you actually retort back.”

He studied her with a concerned look, “Sounds awful.” As he echoed her words, she gave a chuckle, “Not really, no. We’re closer to the kitchens, so if you’re sad, you could just get a cookie.” He smirked at that before his gaze trailed over to the light scar that went down her eye. Feeling his stare, she shifted her head, letting her curls fall over her eye.

He furrowed his brows as he went to speak, before he seemed to hesitate. She fell quiet, feeling the awkwardness enter the conversation. But then Warrington spoke, “Only a witch or wizard with a dark soul would say a thing against you, Ms. Lupin.” He looked away before she could match his gaze, glaring at Higgs instead.

She managed a small smile, before whispering back, “Thank you Cassius.” He waved a hand at her, signifying this conversation was over. But she could see the quirk of his lips as she called him by his first name. She never understood the animosity between the houses, especially Gryffindor’s burning hatred for the Slytherins. But she knew it was better to keep her nose out of it.

Closing her satchel, she said, “I better get going. I have some things I need to do.” She waved goodbye to the group before walking out of the library. As she closed the doors behind her, she turned around to see Professor Quirrell.

“Oh, evening Professor.” She greeted him, hiking her bag up on her shoulder. He stared down at her with meek smile, “H-Hello, good e-evening, Ms. Lupin.”  She began to walk away, but he called out again, “A-Are you busy, Ms. Lupin? I-I was looking for some h-help, I was going to s-speak to Hagrid, but s-seems he’s away.”

“Oh..” She paused, thinking about it, “Well, not really busy. I was just going to go bake in the kitchens, but that can wait.”

He clapped his hands before motioning for her to follow him, “S-Such kindness, f-follow me!” She trailed after him to the DADA classroom, glancing around to see if anyone would come along and see them. Something about Quirrell really twisted something in her gut. She wasn’t going to go off suspicion alone though, so she didn’t turn down his request for help.

He was a teacher, selected by Dumbledore himself, so she was brushing it all off as her paranoia. As they entered, she saw the projector screen pulled down over the chalkboard. She placed her bag on the desk, turning to Quirrell, “So, how can I help?”

He took out his wand and waved it at the projector, causing it to turn on, the image of a man turning into a wolf projecting on the screen. Her smile fell as she took it in. Seeing her expression, he hurried out, “I-I’ll be teaching a class on Werewolves, and I-I was wondering i-if you’d answer some questions? I-If it’s not too much. You see, H-Hagrid is very knowledgeable on crea- topics such as this. But since he’s-“

She shook her head, forcing a smile back on her face, “Of course, Professor, as long as it all remains anonymous.” He nodded before motioning for her to take a seat, reaching into his drawer for some parchment.

She took a seat at one of the tables at the front of the room, fiddling with her hands nervously as she waited. Quirrell dipped his quill into the ink as he began, “Now, let’s s-start with a simple q-question. When were you turned?”

Cyra hesitated for a moment, before responding, “I was six.” He wrote her answer down, eyes turned down to the parchment, “Can you describe to me how it felt?” She tilted her head, confused by what he meant. Upon hearing no response, he looked up, offering her a comforting smile, “A-Apologies, I meant y-your first t-transformation?”

“Oh.” Her voice softened, thinking back to her first transformation, “Well..it was terrifying. I didn’t change the night I was bitten, so I had plenty of time to think about it and worry. As the moon approached, I began to throw more tantrums. I was just so.. upset, and it felt like my chest was going to burst. Like something was trying to claw its way out.”

She paused, listening to him scratching on the parchment quickly with his quill. Once it stopped, she began again, “When the moon rose, I remember my father kissing my forehead, and that was the last feeling I had that wasn’t pain. After that, I just remember hearing my screaming and blacking out.”

“Mmhm, how would you describe the pain?”

She began picking at some carvings on the desk, trying to keep herself calm as she continued, “It starts out as a building feeling. All day your skin is itching, and you just want to claw yourself. But when that moon rises..” Cyra took a moment to swallow, feeling herself begin to sweat, “It’s like your blood is pure molten fire. Your bones breaking in half and reforming. All you feel is pain. You can’t even feel the air, every inch of your body is in agony. The day after, you can’t do anything but sleep. You just feel battered. Like a quidditch player who’s been on the wrong side of a few bludgers.”

“Hm, very good.” He replied lowly, dipping his quill back into the inkpot. As he looked at her, his eyes seemed to look darker, “Now, how d-do you take your s-steaks?” She let out a laugh, feeling some tension leave her, “Medium Rare. Any rarer, and I feel like a vampire.”

“Hm.” His lips quirked up at her joke, scribbling her answer down. Cyra was just beginning to get relaxed as the next question came, “Do you experience rapid hair growth in areas?” She grimaced, before forcing a polite smile, “Pardon?”

He didn’t spare her a glance as he answered, “Such as h-hairy arms, back, or perhaps the ears? U-Unusual hair growth, like a wolf?” She felt her jaw tighten in the fake smile, replying through gritted teeth, “No.”

“Curious. Mood swings? O-Or perhaps a craving for v-violence?”

She narrowed her eyes at that, her smile falling, “No.” He heard the tone in her voice, finally meeting her gaze. He immediately made himself look sorry, backtracking, “I a-am just asking because you s-stated you get u-upset.”

“Irritated, yes. But I don’t get violent.”

She saw some form of smirk appear on his lips as he poked her nerves, “Are y-you sure? You find n-no urge to hurt your fellow peers?” She had to keep her lips pressed together, knowing she was feeling such an urge right now. He seemed to understand to drop it, moving on to his next question.

“Werewolves are labeled as dark creatures, would you agree with that? D-During the change, d-do you feel free? P-Perhaps Powerful?”

Cyra grabbed onto her bag, placing it over her shoulder, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Professor.” She stood up, “My sincerest apologies, but I’ve just realized I do have something to do. Please excuse me.” She waited for no response, hurrying to the door.

As she went to exit, he called after her, “So you don’t feel the darkness, Ms. Lupin? The dark creature clawing at you from within?” His voice was low, almost alluring. It was wrong. She gripped the doorframe, replying, “Werewolves are labeled as dark creatures because of one, Fenrir Greyback. They see him as an example of those cursed with lycanthropy, but take away the wolf, and what do you have?”

“W-What do you have, Ms. Lupin?”

“A monster.”

After her storm out, she had ended up in the Hogwarts Kitchens. She had discovered how to get in from her second year, experimenting with the Marauders Map. She asked the house-elves for the ingredients and tools she needed, and got to work. Out of the way of the elves who had many preparations to make for dinner.

Her jaw remained tight as she creamed the butter and sugar with her wooden spoon, glaring down at the bowl. She was still stuck in that conversation with Quirrell, a small growl leaving her as she began mixing harder. Snatching up an egg, she went to crack it, only for it to smash on the counter and leave a goopy mess.

She let out a frustrated noise and bent down to clean it up, only to hear a snap and for it to be gone. Glancing up, she saw one of the elves turning away, going back to its work. She bowed her head in apology to it, beginning to rise back up.

“I thought I heard Cyra’s angry baking!”

She shot up, hitting her head on the edge of the counter, “MERLIN!” She clutched at her head, glaring at Fred and George, “You scared me to death!” George tsked at her, coming over to her side of the counter, “Now Cyra, what’s got you so jumpy?” He pushed her hands away from her head, checking it over with his.

Fred took a seat at the counter, leaning on his elbows, “Yeah, anything we can help with?” She began to relax as George attended to her head, “No..I’m fine.” The sharp scent of oranges overtook her senses, making her feel a bit cheerier.

“Oh, fine she says.”

George scoffed, poking her in the forehead before going to join his twin, “That’s like Cyra code for definitely not fine.”  She gave a huff, grabbing an egg again and cracking it into the bowl, “I just had a frustrating conversation with Professor Quirrell.”

“Well tell us about it, you nut.” Fred replied, smiling playfully at her. She sent him a glare before adding the next egg, “Well, I was leaving study group, and he asked me to assist him with a project.” She shook her head, “Apparently Hagrid was unavailable.” 

“Figures, not even Hagrid would want to deal with that bumbling man.”

Cyra pointed her spoon at Fred, “Be nice.” He swatted at it, huffing, “If he’s upset you so much, why should I?” She didn’t have a clever response, so she simply stuck her tongue out at him. George snickered at her immaturity, motioning for her to continue, “What did he want to speak about?”

“Well.. me. Or rather, being a werewolf.” She started, beginning to cream the ingredients together, “It started normal. Simple questions about how it feels to transform, my steak preferences. Then..he asked me more personal questions.”

Both boys were quiet as they listened intently, giving her their undivided attention. She glanced at them nervously, mixing the bowl faster, “Like if I ever considered violence. Hurting my peers. Or if my body grew hair like a wolf.”

“That’s such a stupid question, of course you don’t.” Fred interjected, “We both can vouch, we saw you in that pretty bathing suit, you definitely are not hairy.” Cyra looked at him in surprise, managing a small smile, “Thank you, Fred. You thought my bathing suit was pretty?”

Feeling her and George’s stare, he began to turn red as his hair, “Ah..ah..yeah, I did. Cause it had those.. those.. ruffles.” At his brother’s snicker, he kicked him beneath the counter, making him shut up. Cyra let out a giggle before turning her focus to the batter, “Anyway. It just felt very prejudiced. He even asked me if I agree with the label of being a ‘dark creature.’ I said no to the violence question, but I honestly did want to strangle the man.”

George hummed, “I feel like that’s just Professor Quirrell’s demeanor. He makes you want to sock him, right Fred?” His twin nodded, adding, “Yeah, or get pummeled by a million snowballs.” Cyra laughed at the imagery, dropping the flour into the bowl, “That would be very funny. You might knock his turban off though.”

“Nah, I imagine that thing is charmed stuck. He wears it all the time now!”

“It is a bit strange. He never seemed to be a hat person.”

Cyra raised a brow, stirring the flour into the batter, “Well, he said he was given it by some African Prince.” She added in a whisper, “It does smell though..”

“Right!?” Fred and George exclaimed.

“I have a theory he has a huge boil beneath it, and it’s festering.” Fred said, making Cyra cringe in disgust.

George shook his head, “No way, he totally stuffed it with a bunch of garlic. It’s said he encountered some vampires in Albania, and was so shaken by them that he’s wearing that smelly garb to ward them off.”

Cyra scoffed as she added in some cream of tartar and baking soda into the bowl, “Well, it is more believable than giant boil.” Fred made an offended noise, but she ignored it, “Either way, I don’t look to being alone with Professor Quirrell anymore. He makes me uneasy.”

Fred asked curiously, “Is that like a wolf sense?” She gave him an amused smile, knowing he wasn’t asking to be rude, “Yes. Something about him unsettles my wolf. He smells like danger..but also not dangerous. It’s weird.”

He nodded, leaning on his hand, “We actually had some questions we wanted to ask you, but I could imagine you might not want to answer them now.” George looked just as unsure, continuing, “It can wait till another time.”

“No, no.” Cyra shook her head, placing her spoon down to look at them both, “I’m fine with you two asking me questions. You deserve answers after eight years of lies.” She gave them a guilty smile, “Ask away.”

Fred stared at her, making sure she was truly okay with it, before he suddenly asked, “How old were you?”

She matched his gaze, looking him into the eyes as she answered, “I assume you’re asking when I was bitten. I was six years old. It was a week or two later that I met you guys.”

His eyes softened, whispering, “Merlin, Cyra..” His brother looked just the same, staring at her in worry. She began to feel nervous about the pity, looking away and focusing on her cookie batter, “I was pretty young, but I remember it all fairly well. It was just a random night that Fenrir attacked my family. He toyed around with me, made me try to run for my life. But it was all a ploy.”

She grabbed a separate bowl, adding some cinnamon and sugar to it, “He would have been able to catch me in seconds, but he delayed it. He waited until he was turned, and then the true chase happened. I didn’t last long. When I woke up, I was in some room and my Papa was there. Headmaster Dumbledore put him in charge of me after he found my body in the woods.”

She heard the tense silence, and cracked a joke, “Instead of a stork dropping me on the doorstep, I was dropped in a leaf pile.” There was no laughter. She sighed, adding the cinnamon sugar to the batter, “After that, he became my caretaker. Then later, he officially adopted me.”

There was silence, before Fred spoke, “Mum always wondered what would possess him to suddenly adopt a kid.” He then realized something, looking at her with wide eyes, “Wait, does that mean that Mr. Lupin is..?”

“Yep.” She replied, grabbing a cookie tray from the pantry, “He’s a werewolf too. But that’s also secret, if the ministry knew, he’d be forced to register and then..” She trailed off, sliding the tray onto the counter.

“Hey.” George took her hand, breaking her out of her thoughts, “Your secrets are safe with us. Not even mum will know.” Fred nodded, taking her hand, “We could do an unbreakable vow if it makes you feel better.”

She made a face at them, “Like you tried with Ron when we were seven?” The twins winced at the reminder, Fred reaching down to rub his side, “My left buttock hasn’t been the same since..” George groaned as he thought back to the beating they got, “I’d never seen Dad so angry before.”

“Well, of course, you two almost killed your brother.”

“Only if he broke the promise!”

She rolled her eyes, plopping the cookies onto her baking sheet, “I trust you both enough to know you wouldn’t divulge my secrets.” She watched out the corner of her eye as the boys seemed to preen at her response, looking rather pleased with themselves.

“What kind of cookies are you making, anyway?” George asked her as she took the sheet to the oven. She looked away as she opened the oven door, letting some of the heat escape, “Snickerdoodles, your favorite.” He grinned at the mention of the cookies, remembering their deal at sorting.

Fred seemed displeased, making sure to complain, “It’s not mine though!” Cyra slid the tray onto the rack, being sure it was placed in the right way, “I’m aware of that, Fred. I know it's chocolate chip. But I promised George he’d get his own cookie tin.” She turned around to see him pouting, giving a scoff as she took the dirty bowl to the sink.

She let him sulk for a moment longer, before she finally said, “That’s why I’m making chocolate chip next.” Fred gasped, his sullen frown lifting up into a bright smile. She tried not to laugh, pointing the wooden spoon at him, “But you’re helping me, mister. George gets the free cookies cause of the bet, but you gotta work for yours.”

“You just don’t like doing the dishes.”

“Quicker you wash, quicker you’ll get to lick the spoon.”

“On it. Hand me the sponge.”

Chapter Text

Cyra nibbled on the edge of her quill, staring at the parchment with a frustrated glare. She couldn’t believe Quirrell actually hosted the class on werewolves. He used an interview with an ‘anonymous dark creature’. But as he read out her answers, there was no sympathy, nor emotion. And as he spoke for her, she realized how the interview would look to others.

A quick glance around her class would tell her all she needed to know. No one looked sympathetic as he talked as her, describing how it felt to transform. No one felt a thing. Except her. When he reached the end of the interview, Cyra’s eyes wide as she listened to his twisted version.

“Upon a-asking if they felt that dark creature label was r-right, they avoided the question and p-placed blame upon another fellow werew-wolf.”

She ignored the scoffs and mummering, narrowing her eyes at the meek professor. Her nails dug into the wood of her desk, her using all of her restraint not to prove him right about her violent urges. Once class finished, she was the first out.

Cedric wasn’t far behind her, struggling to shove his books into his bag as he jogged to catch up. “Ah, Cyra, wait up!” He called out, apologizing quickly to the students he bumped into. Hearing him, she forced her steps to slow to allow him to reach her pace.

Once he was by her side, he gave her a sheepish smile, “Pretty rough class, huh?” She managed a small smile back before looking down at her schedule to see when her next break was. She needed a chocolate break, and like pronto. Seeing that her next free period would be after Potions, she let out a sigh of relief.

Cedric relaxed the moment he saw her tenseness subside, “You really don’t like Quirrell, do you?” She turned her head to him in surprise, raising her brow, “Is it that obvious?” He gave a chuckle, shaking his head, “Yeah, kinda. I don’t think you could have gotten out faster.” She pulled her cloak tighter around her as they entered the dungeons, giving a shiver.

“He just rubs me the wrong way, you know?”

“Yeah I getcha. There’s people like that sometimes.”

She pushed open the door to the potions classroom, seeing some of the Slytherins were already inside. Taking her place at the table she shared with Cedric, she quickly dug into her bag. He watched her curiously, taking a seat  on his stool. Her face broke into a grin as she felt the wrapper, taking the sweet out of her bag. He tried not to laugh as she ducked her head below the table, the sound of the candy wrapper crinkling.

“I think you have a candy addiction.” He joked.

He heard back her muffled response, “I’m stressed…” He nodded, glancing around to be sure no one else noticed her stuffing her mouth, “Well, be sure to chew fast. Snape could come in at any-“ Too late. The slam of the classroom door was enough to make Cyra sit up straight, her cheeks puffed out and chocolate smeared on her bottom lip.

“Put away your books, if you paid attention, then you’ll know what we’ll be brewing.” Professor Snape drawled as he went over to his desk, procuring a small glass bottle that contained a sky blue potion. He stared down the silent class before continuing, “Scurvy grass, Lovage, and Sneezewort. Who can tell me what this..concoction is?”

No response. His eyes locked onto Cyra who was trying desperately to chew subtly, his lips quirking in amusement, “Ms. Lupin? Do you perhaps know?” Her eyes were wide as she swallowed all the chocolate forcefully down her throat, giving a small cough as she answered, “C-Confusion Draught?”

He gave a hum of affirmation, placing the glass back onto his desk, “Indeed. Today you will be brewing it. You will have an hour. Begin.” He glanced in her direction, being sure to call out, “Wipe your mouth first, Ms. Lupin.” She felt her face flush as she heard some of the snickers, using the sleeve of her sweater to swipe at her mouth.

Cedric patted her shoulder, smiling reassuringly, “I’ll get the ingredients for us both, if you’re willing to maybe assist me in this?” She gave a small laugh, nodding, “You’ve got a deal.” As he went over to the ingredient’s cupboard, she began preparing her cauldron, setting up her cutting supplies in a neat order.

When he returned, she motioned to his cauldron, “I turned it on to low heat. It’ll help the ingredients infuse better if they wilt when you add them.” He gave her a relieved smile, placing the ingredients on the table, “Thank merlin for you.”

She chuckled, taking some lovage leaves and placing them on her cutting board, beginning to chop them finely. Cedric watched her for a moment before picking up his knife and copying. His brows furrowed as he tried to get his as thin as hers, “How..did..” He turned the mixture around, trying again to chop at it, “Yours is like..perfect.”

She glanced in his direction, her lips quirking into a smile, “Practice.  You should try baking when you arrive home for the holidays.” He let out a grunt in response, making her smile bigger. She slid her chopping board above the cauldron, carefully sliding them into the water.

Next was the scurvy grass, she measured out about 1 cup full of them, before plopping it onto her cutting board. Cedric glanced at his book, squinting his eyes at the instructions, “It says to squish the juices out, what does that mean?” She took the edge of her blade, pressing it against the stems, watching the green juice begin to drain out. He looked back at her, watching her hands intently, “Oh..so like that?” She let out a soft hum, slipping them into her cauldron.

As she went to grab the sneezewort, Cedric realized he was still cutting his lovage leaves. “W-Wait..wait a moment!” He stammered, shoving his leaves into the water, quickly grabbing his scurvy grass. Cyra looked over at how much he took, placing her hand onto his arm to stop him, “That’s too much. You need only one cup of it.”

He glanced at the scurvy grass, seeing that he did forget to measure it, “Oh..thank you.” He looked around the table for his measuring cup. While he searched for it, Cyra took the sneezewort and placed it on her cutting board, pushing it closer to the flame by her cauldron.

“Found it!” He quietly celebrated, measuring out the scurvy grass quickly. As he saw Cyra waiting patiently, he looked at the sneezewort, “It’s awfully close to the flame, don’t you think?” She nodded, smiling softly, “I’m drying it out. It’s much more potent if you crush it into a powder.” His brows raised in surprise, focusing back on his cutting board, “That’s not in the instructions, Cyra.”

She gave a mischevious smile, watching her sneezewort begin to shrivel, “I’m aware.” He let out a worried sound but said nothing more. He did not follow her methods, deciding to just chop his sneezewort up and toss it into the cauldron. Cyra was now behind the others, placing her sneezewort into a mortar and pestle, crushing it. Once it was a fine powder, she tapped it into the mixture, watching it turn a light blue.

Satisfied, she turned up the heat and plopped the lid onto the cauldron to simmer. Cedric copied her, covering his cauldron. Once clean up was finished, a quick glance at their potions showed how vastly different they looked. Cedric looked between the both of them, “Mine’s blue..but yours is lighter. How?” Cyra didn’t seem worried, placing the lid back on her cauldron, “Different methods. It changes everything.”

When it was time to bottle it up, the most common color was similar to Cedric’s, which made him sure it was right.  Cyra’s was the only one that was a true sky blue. She placed it proudly in front of herself, waiting for Professor Snape to evaluate it. When he got to her table, he took Cedric’s, examining it, “Hmm..it is light blue.” He uncorked it and took a sniff, “You did it right, but it’ll only last a few minutes. You should have let it simmer more.”

When he saw hers, his eyes narrowed, snatching it up quickly. She watched with expectant eyes as he sniffed it, seeing the recognition in his eyes. His lips pressed together for a moment before he forced out, “What did you do, Ms. Lupin, that was so different from your partner?”

She smiled sweetly up at him, “I dried out the sneezewort, ground it up into a powder.” Snape hummed, staring at her coldly, “So you went against the instructions?” She faltered for a moment, before nodding. There was silence, before he responded, “Congratulations Ms. Lupin, you’re one of the few that has brewed a perfect Confusion Draught.” She gasped, a smile forming. He placed her vial back on the table, turning away, “I expect you all to learn what you did wrong, for this will be on your exam. You are dismissed, leave your potions on the table.”

She packed her things, grinning at Cedric, “Can you believe it?” He laughed, packing his books, “I can’t believe Professor Snape complimented you. That’s so..not even possible!” Once they gathered their things, they went their separate ways.

Cyra decided to use her break to check on Hagrid, heading out to the courtyard. She kept to herself on her walk, nodding her head to familiar faces. She spotted a group of Ravenclaw fourth years, halting their conversation as she passed. She furrowed her brows as she felt the stares, forcing her spine upright as she continued on her way. She listened to them whispering, the snickers that come after confuse her.

She gave a glance over her shoulder to see they were still staring. They were. But then one of the Ravenclaw boys did something that confused her greatly, he shoved his hand into his hair, snagging the waves with a wince before he twitched one eye awkwardly. Was this some kind of warning? She decided to look away and hurry on out.

Once the sound of nature surrounded her, she relaxed, continuing on her merry way to Hagrid’s Hut. Once she reached the door, she knocked on it politely, before taking two steps back. There was some clanging and rustling inside, but she remained still, waiting with a polite smile. When the door finally swung open, she smiled brightly at the half-giant, “Evening, Mr. Hagrid. Would you like to have tea together?”

Hagrid’s face broke into a smile, stepping back for her to enter, “Of course, Cyra! My home is always open to ye!” She stepped inside, reaching into her parcel bag, “I prepared us some scones and tea sandwiches.”

She took out a small box, placing it on the table before whipping out her wand, waving it over, “Engorgio.” Hagrid turned around from the kettle to see it grow in size. Once it reached its original size, she opened it up to reveal the treats she prepared. He chuckled as she began plating it on the table, “Yer becoming such a clever witch, Cyra.” She blushed at the compliment, carefully placing a tea sandwich on the plate, “Hardly. I’m about average as any other student here.”

He tsked at her, waggling his finger, “Now don’t ye be putting yourself down like that, you’ve got just as much cleverness as any Ravenclaw. You should show it more.” She placed the box to the side, smiling up at him. He looked down at her with a worried expression, “Ye should also tell me what really brought ye here. What upset ye?”

She tried to remain smiling, but after a moment of silence, it fell. Sighing, she hung her head, covering her face for a moment. He grabbed the teabags, waiting patiently. By the time he reached the table, she finally uncovered her face. She looked tired, her face sullen and pale.

Cyra’s eyes stared at the teapot as he poured the water into It, almost blank. He took a seat, picking up a scone, “Say what’s on yer mind.” She leaned her head against the wall, “You live your whole life trying not to be what other people say you are, trying to prove them wrong. You shame yourself for any emotions you perceive as living up to the stereotype. But why do you have to? When they’re allowed to be what they are? Why is it only different when I’m angry? Why does that make me live up to the expectation of every werewolf?”

She held out her arms, welcoming Fang as he climbed onto her lap, “It’s just so tiring. I try so hard to be calm, to not snap. I can’t even do defense charms cause I’m so scared that I’ll hurt someone. It feels like trying to shove a hippogriff in a suitcase, just hiding it away.”

“But even if ye manage to get the hippogriff in the suitcase, there will still be a hippogriff.” Hagrid commented, smiling softly at the young girl.  She expresses with her hand at him, “Exactly! But if anyone else sees the hippogriff, they’ll say ‘of course the werewolf has a hippogriff problem’ even they also have hippogriff’s!” He seemed to get confused for a moment, before clarifying, “Yer using a hippogriff to represent feeling angry right? Not just hippogriffs?”

Cyra nodded, grabbing a sandwich, “Of course, real hippogriffs are completely fine, and wizards should keep their opinions on Hippogriffs silent. They are majestic creatures that deserve respect.” Hagrid brushed the crumbs out of his beard, “Well,” He began,  “It’s the same thing for me, ye know? Being a half giant and all..”

She turned to give him all her attention, nibbling on her sandwich. He coughed, feeling a bit awkward as he spoke, “Well, going to Hogwarts, all the other students, they were scared of me. My dad raised me to be gentle, but there were times I felt anger too. In those moments, they didn’t see me as a student, but rather a raging giant. It hurt.. cause I’m more than that.”

Cyra’s eyes teared up as she stared at him, “You are. You’re a wizard, they can’t take that from you.” He managed a weak smile, “They tried.. Dumbledore was the one who gave it back to me.” There was a moment of silence, before he sniffled and looked at her, giving her a grin, “And you, Miss Cyra Lupin. You are a witch. One of the best witches I’ve met in my days. You’ve got a good heart.” She smiled back at him, tears streaking her cheeks.

He glanced out the window for a moment, before speaking softly to her, “But that doesn’t mean ye got to turn your cheek to them.” At her confused look, he continued, “Clever witch like ye? Could come up with a method to get the justice ye deserve. Without being..caught.” He gave a wink, making Cyra let out a laugh. He cleared his throat, pretending that didn’t just happen, picking up the teapot, “Tea is ready, how many sugars?”

“Three, please.”

After Charms, Cyra hurried out with a gleam in her eye, her strut unbreaking as she headed down to the dungeons. When she reached the Potions door, she gave a gentle knock.

“Come in.” Snape drawled through the door. She opened it, giving him a bright smile, “Hello, Professor Snape. How are you this evening?” He looked up from the essays he was grading, raising a dark brow at her, “Ms. Lupin. What are you bothering me for?” She noticed her potion resting next to his example vial, “Was my potion really similar to yours?”

He narrowed his eyes briefly, looking her over for any smugness before hissing out, “Yes..why do you ask, Ms. Lupin?” She bit her lip, staring at the vials as they shimmered, “Would you say I’m talented in potions?” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Ms. Lupin did you come here for compliments to soothe your ego after your Defense lesson?”  

She dropped her smile, glaring at him, “You knew about it?” He let out a hum, studying her, “How did you manage not to bite the blubbering fool’s head off?” She sighed, looking elsewhere, “His turban would have digested badly.” He did not laugh, though his lips did quirk for a brief second.

She took her potion from the desk, holding it up the light, “You didn’t answer the question though, Professor Snape. Am I talented in potions?” He picked up his quill with a sigh, going back to grading, “Are you better than most of the students in your class? Yes. But they are also fools who don’t respect the precise science of brewing.” She shot him a look, quipping, “My class is with Slytherins, your house.” He looked up, his expression bored, “Did I stutter?”

Cyra slipped the potion into her parcel, slipping out a cloth that contained cookies, placing it on his desk, “An apology for eating in class earlier.” Snape undid the ribbon on the top, scoffing as he saw the sugar cookies shaped like bats, “Not potion bottles this time?” She spun on her heel, calling out, “No, because instead of Potions Professor, I’ve heard some call you a bat. Y’know with your cloak that’s all swishy.”

He shot a glare at her, pointing at the door, “Out.” She giggled, grabbing the door handle, “Thanks for the ego boost!” She ducked out before he could say any more. Once she was out of his sight, she sped away, acting as normal as she could.

On her getaway, she saw two heads of red hair heading towards her. George was the first to wave at her, Fred calling out, “There you’ve been!” As she hurried to them, George held out his arms for a hug.

“We went looking for you at Ha-“

He was cut off by the feeling of her grabbing his arm, along with his twins, and dragging them off to an empty classroom. Once they were shoved inside, they tried to gather what was happening. Cyra wasn’t waiting though, blurting out, “I need you guys to be the lookout while I sneak into the Great Hall before dinner.” They stared at her blankly, before snapping quickly out of it.

“Wait, wait, wait..why do you-“

“What is happening Cyra!?”

It was then they saw the grin on her lips, her eyes glinting dangerously, “It’s time for another prank.” Both the twins looked surprised, their face growing into matching grins, “Who is it?”    

“Professor Quirrell.”

Cyra stood by the Great Hall doors, taking a deep breath in to calm herself. She glanced over her shoulder to see Fred and George further down the hall, giving their thumbs up. The coast was clear. She pushed the door open, slipping inside.

It was strange to enter the Great Hall when it was empty. She glanced around worried before steeling herself, marching up to the Heads Table. If she remembered the order they sat in correctly, Quirrell’s seat was at the far left, between Snape’s and Madam Hooch.  Counting the goblets, she slipped the potion vial out of her bag, uncorking it with her teeth before placing a few drops in the correct goblet.

Once she was finished, she corked it back up, placing it in her bag and hurrying out. As soon as she got out, she was snatched up by the twins and rushed to a corridor, heavy footsteps approaching. The trio silently slinked away, entering the hallway that was full of other students.

Cyra let out a relieved sigh, leaning against their fronts, “That was close.” George looked around before whispering in her right ear, “You got it in?” She gave a sharp nod, looking at the students that passed. Fred snickered in her left ear, leaning his chin on her shoulder, “Well done Cy, we knew you’d eventually come to the dark side.”

She chuckled, jerking her shoulder to make him get off, “Yeah yeah, let’s go.” She hiked up the bag on her shoulder, beginning to follow the students, “I’m starving.” As they caught up with her, they heard her mutter, “Time for dinner and a show.” The twin brother shared a proud look, grabbing both her hands and walking with her in the halls.

“That Longbottom boy should have never been allowed on a broom, he gives me a fright each time he hops on. I swear the boy has a death wish!”

Severus zoned out of Madam Hooch’s rant, picking at his potatoes. It was so tiring having to interact with other teachers. Made his food taste bland. He almost wished he brought the cookies that Cyra dropped off.

Though he’d never say it, he did enjoy her baking. The witch was very talented. Not just in culinary arts, but in Potions as well. He had to hide his shock and disbelief at her perfect potion. It wasn’t just similar; it was exactly like his. It was a shame he misplaced it before he could test them together.

The Potions Master inside him desperately wanted to set the girl up with some advanced classes. Perhaps even a mentorship? But as always, as soon as the thought comes, his petty side shoots it down by remembering Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was created in their image. Though a part of him knew she wasn’t them, she was much too kind-hearted.

It was hard. But he wasn’t heartless. He could see the torture behind her expression. He noticed how hard she tried to keep herself together when he mentioned Quirrell’s lesson. He knew she had already seen it even before potions, which makes the fact she brewed such an impressive potion while dealing with her emotions even more impressive to him.

As he lifted his goblet, he glanced over to see Professor Quirrell do the same. His shaking hand made the liquid inside swish around. The luminescent blue in the water caught on the lights, and caught his eye. Someone laced Quirrell’s goblet. But how?

He took a sip from his cup, scanning the hall subtly. And there was his answer. The sight of Cyra glancing at their direction, her lips quirking into a smirk that was so similar to the one that mocked him for years. She really did look like them.

He turned to his fellow Professor, about to warn him, before he stopped. He watched Quirrell raise the cup to his lips, unaware. He said nothing. Why did he say nothing? He knew it was laced. Madam Hooch turned to the wizard, asking, “I heard about your lesson, a conversation with a Werewolf eh? Sounded a bit one-sided.”

There was a moment of silence.  Professor Quirrell stared at her, furrowing his brows, “What in merlin a-are you s-speaking about? What? What?” He looked around in a panic, “W-What..What..What is..” Hooch rolled her eyes, going back to eat her chicken, “Jeez, just a suggestion to be more open-minded.”

“W-Why would I o-open my mind? W-What..”

His voice grew louder, gathering the student’s attention. They began to whisper amongst themselves, pointing and looking at him. His eyes grew larger, “W-What!? What are you all staring at!? What are you!?” He looked at his hand, letting out a shriek, “WHAT IS T-THAT!?” 

Severus felt something click in his mind, the missing potion. His eyes shot to the young witch, who was watching the display with a satisfied smirk. As Quirrell ran out, screaming at his own feet, the students started gossiping.

“Maybe he’s cracked. That lesson he did today was a bunch of nonsense.” 

“Do you think you can actually trust what he says? He’s scared of his own shadow.”

“Bet he didn’t even meet a werewolf, I knew it sounded weird!”

Cyra listened to the gossip, her smirk growing into a wild grin. She laughed at the twins as they joked around with the Gryffindors, mimicking Quirrell and shouting at their hands. She did not notice the Potions Professor’s stare. Nor the stare from small beady eyes of a rat.  

Chapter Text

It was finally game day, and Cyra had heard plenty enough from both the Twins and Cedric. Yawning, she leaned her elbows on the table, looking around the hall. Cedric was beside her, chatting with one of his team buddies. She didn’t understand all the fuss they were stirring, this match was between Gryffindor and Slytherin, not Hufflepuff.

Sighing, she took a sip from her goblet, looking over at the Gryffindor table. There she saw Hermione leaning over Harry, speaking softly to him. He looked like he was about to be sick. That’s right, this was going to be his first match.  Of course he’d be nervous. She focused her hearing in their direction, hearing Finnegan, “Harry, you need your strength. Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team.”

“Thanks Seamus.”

She resisted rolling her eyes, snatching up two biscuits from the table before hopping up. Making sure she had her book bag, she strutted over to the table of red and gold. The Twins saw her coming, but noticed she wasn’t heading towards them, looking disappointed.

She came up behind Harry, shoving a biscuit in his mouth to silence what he was about to say. As he made a confused muffled sound, she ruffled his hair, “Come on Potter, I’m kidnapping you for a bit.” He turned around to see her, looking relieved. As he gathered his things, she looked at his friends, “Sorry to steal your seeker, I promise to return him before game time.”

Ron smiled up at him, “No worries, Cyra. Though..” He glanced in his brother’s direction, “Do you mind stealing the twins too? You don’t have to return them.” Cyra gave him a knowing smile, taking Harry’s hand in hers, “Sorry kiddo, no can do. Just don’t eat anything they give you.” With that, she took off with the boy who lived.

He didn’t ask where they were going, just nibbling on the biscuit as she dragged him along. Soon, she reached a clearing with a view of the forbidden forest. Satisfied, she let go of his hand and sat down on the grass. He copied her, crossing his legs under him. Cyra took a deep breath, closing her eyes to bask in the sun. Harry watched her for a moment before doing the same, inhaling the air deeply.

Slowly, he felt his body begin to relax, the panic settling inside. He felt much less sick. As he opened his eyes, he saw her breaking a chocolate bar in half. When she caught him staring, she offered him half, smiling softly, “It’ll calm your nerves.” He took it gratefully, nibbling on the edge.

Cyra took a bite out of hers, turning her attention to the view of the forest, “Quidditch, it’s a crazy sport. Never appealed to me much. My dad enjoyed it, but he told me that his friend James Potter loved it so much more. Said he just came to life when he was on a broom.”

Harry nodded along, before he realized what she was saying, looking at her with widened eyes, “James Potter? Is that..”

She shot him a wink, giving an affirmative nod. He was now giving her his full attention, starved for information on his parents. Cyra was more than happy to provide, telling him with a gentle smile, “James Potter, total prankster. But the things he took seriously, he gave his entire being for it. He was loyal to his friends, Lily Evans, and Quidditch. My dad said he had never seen James focus on something more than when he was playing. Not even for N.E.W.T.S.”

Harry chuckled at the mention of his dad dodging studying, he hadn’t been much for schoolwork, but he did genuinely enjoy learning about Quidditch from Wood.  It made him feel closer to his dad to hear he was the same.

Cyra did this for the next hour, reciting some facts and stories she heard about James Potter. By the time she finished, Harry had gone through the chocolate and biscuit. He felt like he had an appetite again. As his stomach growled, she gave him a knowing look.

“Y’know, I think it would be very much in memory of your father if we sneak into the kitchens. Get you a meal before the game.”

He felt a grin grow on his face, taking her hand with excitement. As soon as they were up on their feet, Cyra took off with him, making him laugh as he had to run to keep up with her.

“Come on, star seeker! Last one there is a rotten dragon’s egg!”

It was soon eleven o’clock, and the stands were filling up rapidly. Cyra helped Harry duck through the crowds, leading him to the locker rooms. As they opened the door, Cyra heard shrieks.

“CYRA!?”

“WE’RE NOT DECENT! SHUT YOUR EYES!”

Cyra stared at the redheaded twins in confusion, “Boys..you’re just not wearing a shirt..” Fred huffed, holding his jersey to hide his chest, “Shut your eyes!” George nodded quickly, hiding behind his brother. Wood rolled his eyes, leading Harry in as Cyra covered her eyes with her hands.

“I seriously don’t get it. You guys were shirtless at the pond.”

“That’s-!”

“It’s different!”

She leaned against the door frame, sighing, “Sure..” She listened to the sound of clothes rustling, tapping her foot as she waited. When hands guided hers away, she opened her eyes, smiling sweetly at them, “I wanted to wish you two good luck!” George stepped close to her, smiling mischievously, “Will you wear our colors?”

His brother realized quickly what he meant and copied his actions, getting close to Cyra’s face, “Yeah! Where’s your red and gold, huh? Aren’t you loyal to us?” She rolled her eyes at them, shoving them playfully, “That’s what I came for.” She stepped past them, heading over to their things. They didn’t stop her, watching as she rifled through their bags, before taking out their ties.

“Do you need both of them?” George asked curiously.

She nodded, slipping her Hufflepuff tie off and tucking it into her bag. Then she slipped on George’s tie first, fixing it underneath her collar. Then, with Fred’s tie, she wrapped it carefully around her left wrist. Once she was satisfied, she sauntered over, showing them off, “I’m loyal to you both, aren’t I?  This way al the Hufflepuffs will know I’m cheering for my two favorite Gryffindors, not just one.”

They seemed to like that, grinning so wide, it looked like their cheeks would break. She patted them both on their shoulders, “Good luck you two.” She then leaned in, whispering with a glint in her eye, “Give them hell.” Their eyes twinkled just the same.

As she stepped past them to head out to the stands, they caught her wrists, yanking her back to them.

“Ah, ah!”

“Forgetting something?”

She thought about it for a moment before gasping, “Oh! Right!” Cyra spun on her heel, giving them a bright smile. She then stepped forward to Fred, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “Good luck Fred.” She turned away from his red face, kissing his twin’s cheek next, “Good luck, George.” George quickly resembled his brother, his cheeks beginning to burn pink.

Angelina Johnson watched them with a smirk, nudging Wood when he reappeared, “The twins got their good luck kisses.” He rolled his eyes, “Thank merlin I missed it.” He then called out to them, “OI, WEASLEYS! WIPE YOUR DOPEY SMILES AND COME LISTEN, IT’S TIME FOR THE SPEECH!”

They snapped out of it, their heads snapping to Wood to glare at him. Harry ran up to Cyra, grabbing her hand as she went to leave, “Uhm..” He began to panic as he tried to speak, “I..uhm..” He froze as she leaned down, sweetly kissing his forehead, “Good luck, Harry.” He relaxed in her embrace, a happy smile forming on his face, “Thanks Cyra.” 

She gave him a quick hug before heading out, hurrying out to the stands to catch a seat. Luckily, Cedric always saved her a place. Once she climbed the stairs to his row, she saw him smiling brightly and patting the empty spot beside him. She slipped off her bag and plopped down beside him.

Cedric gave her knowing smirk, “Went to go see the twins, I see.” She laughed, pulling at the tie around her neck, “I did. Had to drop off the star seeker safely.”

“How’s he doing now?”

“Better. It was just nerves.” She assured him, looking out towards the pitch. Cedric blew into his hands, trying to warm them, “You’d think they’d put a warming charm on these stands.” She shot him a knowing look before teasing him, “When you become head boy, maybe you can put that in action.”

He gives a playful smile before dramatically running his fingers through his hair, puffing his chest out, “Are you sure that it wouldn’t be the great Warrington to be head boy?” He made his accent haughtier, mimicking Cassius Warrington. She shoved his arm, trying not to snicker, “Stop that, you’re awful.” He chuckles before nudging her back, “Poor Warrington, if he inhales much more air in his chest, I’m afraid he’ll pop!”

She let out a giggle before looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. Once she looked back towards the field, she spoke lower, “It has been weird though, have you noticed?” He leans his head closer, his eyebrow raised, “Hm?” She glances at the pitch nervously before looking back at him, practically whispering, “Boys. They’ve been weird. They keep doing that bullfrog thing, or they stare..and make all these suspicious whispers. You’re a boy, do you know what they’re doing?”

He stares at her before grinning, his eyes twinkling with mirth, “Oh I know what’s going on.” She waited for a moment before nudging him, “Well tell me, then!”  He snickers, watching the players enter the field, “I think it’s better that you don’t know. Funnier that way, you know?” She looks at him confused, before sighing, looking away, “Whatever. Keep your secrets.”

She watched the teams mount their brooms, her eyes locking onto Harry, her heart leaping as Madam Hooch blew the whistle. They were off.

Cyra sat back, trying to keep up with where Harry was going.

“And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor! What an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too..” The mischievous voice of Lee Jordan came out from the booming speakers.

“JORDAN!” There was Professor McGonagall.  

“Sorry, Professor.”

The students all snickered, amused at the antics. Cyra saw one of the twins fly past her, unable to get their scent to tell who it was. She watched as he swung the bat, making a loud cracking sound.

“Quaffle taken by the Slytherins, that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, OH! But he’s blocked by a second Bludger! Sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which..nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle!!” 

She watched him push his hair out of his eyes, turning to her and shooting her a smile. George. She stood on her tiptoes, shouting out, “WELL DONE GEORGE!”

“Oh! It was George! Thank you to the ever so loving Cyra Lupin, who if I may say, is looking stunning in our house colors. You should come by the common room- OW! SORRY PROFESSOR!” 

Cyra let out a laugh before looking back at George, smiling brightly. His cheeks were flushed, grinning madly as people cheer for him, using his name.

“Well done George!”
“Let’s go George!”

He covered his red face with a boyish laugh, before riding off to chase after the bludger. Cyra spotted Fred flying at high speed at Harry, smacking a bludger away from him. He shouted something at him, before dipping back out after the bludger. Harry seemed nervous, looking around, his eyes darting all about.

 “Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, that’s a Weasley combo! He’s dodged Chaser Bell, and he’s speeding toward the.. wait a moment. Was that the Snitch?”

Harry saw it. He hurled himself down after the streak of gold, his robes flapping in the air as he drops. It seems Seeker Higgs saw it too. They were both so close. Harry was just a bit in the lead. Cyra held her chest in worry as they dropped further down. Harry just needed to reach out and-

A gasp left her as she saw his broom be blocked and spun off by Flint. Harry held onto his broom for his dear life as he spun off course. The Gryffindors were outraged, and Madam Hooch had to come out and settle it.

“So.. after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating.”

“Jordan!” growled Professor McGonagall. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I mean, after that open and revolting foul...”

“Jordan, I’m warning you.”

Cedric and Cyra tried not to laugh as Lee’s dramatic sigh was all projected from the speakers, before he exhaustively speaks, “All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I’m sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession.”

“You know.” Cedric started, “I think Professor McGonagall is regretting putting Lee Jordan in charge.” She rolled her eyes playfully before replying, “No? What in merlin would give you that impression?”

“Flint with the Quaffle passes Spinnet..passes Bell. Oops, hit hard in the face by a Bludger! Oh well, hope it broke his nose. Only joking, Professor! Ow!”

“JORDAN!!!”

Everything seemed to be fine, until she heard a yelp from Harry in the air. Looking up, she saw him rising high in the air, looking terrified. Had he lost control of his broom. She saw Fred and George go up with him, trying to get him onto one of their brooms, but it was useless. He just flew higher.

She watched them drop back, ignoring the bludger to stay under him just in case he fell. A shout from the teacher’s stands caught her attention, seeing Professor Snape swatting at some fire on his robes. Professor Quirrell behind him, his face screwed up in annoyance.

A blur went past her, the scent of pines and cinnamon flooding her senses. Her wolf recognized it instantly. Harry. He’s got control of his broom again. Harry was speeding towards the ground, a hand over his mouth like he was about to puke. He hit the ground rolling, before sitting up and spitting out something gold into his hands.

“Is that..” Cedric wondered, with Cyra just as dumbfounded. Harry raised the snitch high in the air with a grin, “I’ve got the snitch!” There was a moment of silence before the crowd roared. There was nothing but screams and cheering, people chanting Harry’s name.

The twins flew down, checking Harry out to make sure he was okay before they lifted him up on their shoulders, “WE’VE GOT POTTER!!! WE’VE GOT POTTER!!!” Cyra laughed as they bounced him around, him still looking a bit queasy. Oliver Wood was shouting along with the crowd, practically radiating sunshine and rainbows as he skips off his broom.

Once the excitement died out and the crowd thinned, Cyra appeared in Harry’s view.  She came to him, raising her hands out for him. He raced into her arms, hugging her tightly, “I did it! I did it Cyra!” She squeezes him tightly, “I saw! You were amazing! Well done, Harry!” As soon as he released her, two red blurs sped past him, throwing themselves at the older girl.

Cyra didn’t even flinch, hugging the two as they sandwich her in, “Congratulations you two! You were brilliant!” She spoke sweetly, visibly rolling her eyes as they lift her in the air. Harry laughed as he watched Cyra tossed over Fred’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Fred and George waved goodbye to the team before taking off with Cyra. As Oliver shouted after them, they sped out of sight, him jogging after them, “HEY! YOU’RE BOTH REQUIRED FOR THE AFTER-PARTY!”

“After party?” Harry repeated, looking over at Angelina. She was fixing her hair up, watching Oliver running off, “It’s a tradition, anytime we beat Slytherin. After dinner, we’ll all be partying and celebrating Gryffindor’s achievement.”

He thanked her before rushing off to Ron and Hermione, excited for the party later.

“Where are we going?” Cyra asked for the fifth time.

George tsked from behind her, “Patience, Ms. Lupin.” She tried to aim a kick at his head, only for Fred to step back, chuckling as she missed, “Watch it Georgie. She’s out for blood.” Cyra reached down and smacked Fred’s butt, making him jump, almost letting go of her.

“C-Cyra..y-you stop that!” He stammered, jostling her roughly. She let out a snicker, before demanding, “Tell me where we’re going, or the right buttock gets it next!”

George laughed from further ahead, “Go ahead, might as well balance it out, eh?” Fred stammered, jostling her again, “Wait! Wait! Okay, I’ll tell you, just do NOT smack my arse again.  Okay?”

She raised her hand in a silent threat, “I’m waiting.”

He continues down the path, speaking calmly, “We’re sneaking off to McGonagall’s office to snatch some of her stash.” Cyra’s brows furrowed, patting Fred’s lower back, “Keep going, what stash?” He looked around to make sure no one was listening, whispering, “Her firewhiskey.” Cyra let out a gasp, covering her mouth quickly.

George looked down at the Maruader’s Map, leading them down a curved path, “This way.” Fred watched his step, keeping ahold of Cyra so he didn’t drop her. The young girl was muttering to herself, “We’re only thirteen…we can’t be drinking..or stealing..” Her eyes lit up in a panic as she realized where they were taking her, “NO!” She started squirming, “You tricked me!”

“Ahh, it seems the hostage has realized of her capture.” George remarked calmly, sparing an amused glance at his twin who struggled to keep ahold of the young werewolf. Fred grunted as he felt her knee his side, “Calm down you mad-woman! We just need you to be the look-out, okay?!? Use your sniffer skills!”

Cyra tries to smack his arse, but he blocks it with his free hand, “I am not a mad-woman! I don’t appreciate being tricked, you two know that!” She finally brought Fred to the ground, scrambling away from him.

When she got to her feet, she crossed her arms across her chest, glaring at George, “I don’t like being tricked by you two. You promised not to.” He grimaced at the reminder before stepping over his twin to approach Cyra calmly, “We didn’t mean to trick you. Just didn't tell you the full truth...which is kinda like tricking you. But, we just need you to cover for us! Okay? If we get caught, Fred and I will take full blame.”

She seemed to relax at that, letting out a huff, “You know I wouldn’t let you do that. We’re in this together, so we go down together. Just don’t trick me again.” He held his hands up in surrender, “Cross Fred’s heart.”

“Oi!”

Cyra was tuned into her instincts, her eyes glowing amber in the dark doorway. It was a simple mission, retrieve a bottle from the far back of the cabinet and return. So why did it feel like they’ve been in there for a bloody hour? Inhaling deeply, she focused on the scents in the area. Fred and George were still in the office, there were a few students approaching. She couldn’t tell how many.

Turning her head, she closed her eyes, focusing on the sound of their footsteps. Seems they were headed somewhere, she heard the steps stagger near her before they stopped. Curious, she cracked her eyes open, seeing it was the group of Ravenclaw fourth years again. They were staring directly at her, smirks on their faces.

She stood there awkwardly, waiting for them to stop staring. They didn’t. She was incredibly uncomfortable. Pressing her lips together, she manages a weak smile at them.  They seem to react slightly, offering smiles back. But nothing else.

Awkwardly, she speaks, “U-Uhm..hello?”

The one with the twitchy eye is quick to shout out, “Hello!” Cyra jumped at his loud tone, giving a nervous laugh, “Yes..Hello. Um..” She glanced behind her at the office before looking back at them, “Can..Can I help you with something?” The boys all looked at each other, as if just realizing they were here.

A taller one spoke up, his accent sounding very proper, “What are you doing here, Lupin? All alone?” Cyra looked at him strangely, obviously very confused, “I’m not? I’m waiting here for Fred and George.” He steps out from the group, looking at her with a confident smirk, “The Weasleys? Shouldn’t a nice girl like you hang with a better group?”

She furrowed her brows at him, looking him up and down, “What did you say your name was?” He seemed pleased with her response, placing out his hand for her to take, “Jasper Inkwell.” She looked at his hand, confused why he was holding it out like he wanted something. That’s not a proper handshake.

Sighing, she took his hand in hers, shaking it firmly, though his side was all limp. “Cyra Lupin, a pleasure.” She introduces herself, ignoring the now confused Jasper as he stared at his hand. “Now that we both no longer strangers, I’m going to ask you why it’s any of your business?” She spoke cooly, making the other boys snicker and make quiet comments behind their fellow Ravenclaw’s back.

The teenage boy seemed annoyed, his jaw twitching as he looks down at her, “A girl like you should be careful is all, especially alone.” Cyra wasn’t one to back down though, shooting back, “A girl like me? What do you mean?”

He gives a mocking smile, “You know. A pretty girl. One that looks very easy to break.” She caught the threat, having to repress a growl, her eyes narrowing at him.

“Oh I don’t think that’ll be a problem, Inkwell.” George’s voice came from behind her.

“Yeah, considering we’re more likely to break your boney nose first.” Fred joins in, placing his hand on Cyra’s shoulder and tugging her behind them. The one with a twitchy eye spoke up, “W-We didn’t mean anything by it, guys. Just.. harmless flirting.”

Fred and George paid him no mind, their stares locked on Jasper. Fred was the one to speak first, “Pretty girls like her, huh? You think that means she’s fragile? Her?” George smirked at his brother’s words, adding in, “A guy like you? She’d kick your arse and send you crying home to your mummy.”

Cyra couldn’t hold back her smile, trying not to laugh as they continued to sing her praises.

“You think you can take her on? I watched her fight thirteen gnomes bare-handed! Not a sweat!”

That is a total exaggeration, she hates the bloody gnomes. She bruises like a peach.

“Cyra is one of the most powerful witches of her age, she could even take on Albus Dumbledore.”

She absolutely could not. Grabbing them from the back of their jerseys, she grits out, “Let’s go before McGonagall comes wanting a fight.” They catch on to what she’s saying, and Fred takes her hand, leading them away. George was still hurling threats at the Ravenclaws as they were leaving, “She’d mess up your mum! You better watch out, cause we know your names! Better sleep with one eye open, you ravens!”

“George, we only know one name.”

 He gave a shrug, before running to catch up to his twin and friend.

“We can’t drink, we’re thirteen.” Cyra repeated herself, watching Fred pour the firewhiskey into the punch, “If our parents knew about this-“ George puts his hand over her mouth, muffling her, smiling cheekily, “Now, Cyra. Our parents aren’t here, are they? They can’t exactly know if they don’t see it.” She narrows her eyes at that, before pushing his hand off of her, “I don’t want to.” Fred capped the firewhiskey bottle, “Then you don’t have to, okay? We won’t make you do anything.”

She sits on the Gryffindor’s common room couch, sighing softly, “Should you have alcohol so easily accessed, what if Harry tries to drink it?” George motioned to an older Ravenclaw in the corner, “Angelina’s friend, Chester Davies. He’s gonna guard the bowl and make sure no one underage drinks it.”

Chester gave a slight wave to her before going back to his paper. She sighed in relief, relaxing against the cushions, “Oh okay..you could have just said that.” Fred crawled onto the couch with her, pulling his legs under him, “Well we tried, you ninny. But you kept going on about how we’re thirteen and can’t drink.” He laid his head on her shoulder, teasing her, “You were like a broken record, honestly. No stopping that.”

She tried to nudge him off, but he remained, hugging her left arm. After a moment, she gave in, sighing, “I’m sorry for not listening. And thank you, for earlier.” George climbed over the back of the couch, wiggling himself between Cyra and the armrest on her right, “You’re welcome. You let us know if they or any other guys bother you, okay?” She laughs as he latches himself to her right arm, “What about you two bothering me?” They laid all their body weight onto her, whining loudly.

“What does that mean, Cyraaaa..”

“We are the exception, aren't we? Cyraaaa…”

She groans as they begin to squish her in, “Okay, okay!”

“Cyraaaaaaaaa…” They chorused as they smothered her, sporting identical mischievous grins.

She sinks lower into the couch, letting out a laugh, “Okay! You’re the exception, now please let me breathe!”

“How can you laugh if you can’t breathe, Cyraaaaa..”

“I’ll bite you!”

The Great Hall was suspiciously silent, students whispering amongst themselves. The Slytherin Quidditch  team was seething at their table. Cyra was sat between Fred and George, droning out their conversation with Lee. Glancing over where Ron was, she saw Harry on his right, grinning brightly. He looked so happy. Smiling to herself, she scooped up some chocolate pudding and plopped it heavily onto her plate. Satisfied, she took up her spoon and closed her eyes as she savored the sweet bitter chocolate. It was perfect. Magical. Chocolate.

“Better make sure your eyes aren’t bigger than your stomach, Lupin. All that chocolate will make you fat.”

Moment ruined. Cyra looked over her shoulder to see Elizabeth Graham standing behind. As soon as Graham caught sight of Cyra’s face, she looked horrified, “Oh..Lupin. I’m so sorry. What happened?” The younger girl was confused what she was speaking about, and now was beginning to feel insecure as others started looking over their way. She took a deep breath, calming herself before she stood, looking at Elizabeth in the eye, “Whatever do you mean, Graham?” She put on her sweetest smile, “Is there something on my face?”

As she smiled, her eyes crinkled, the scar that traveled up her right eye moving and catching the candlelight. It shimmered almost silver, dancing around her eye in thin lines. As Graham caught sight of her gaze, she felt her gut clench up at how brightly Lupin’s eyes were glowing. They looked almost like a predator’s eyes, glowing in the darkness and making you feel small.

Brushing it off, Graham straightened her spine so she towered over the younger girl, “What on earth do you get up to, Lupin, that you get so marred up?” If the Hall was quiet before, it was practically crickets now. Fred and George began putting their forks down, prepared to intervene.

They had no chance. What happened next was spoken about until the end of the school year. The amazing event when the small girl tore into Graham like a hungry wolf.

It began with her smile dropping, the facade leaving her tired face. That was the first red flag for Graham, and wouldn’t be the last she ignored. The second would be a certain Cassius Warrington who had halted his conversation to watch the interaction.

Cyra took a deep breath, hunching her shoulders and bowing her head. To Graham, it looked like she conceded defeat. So she relaxed, a cocky smile appearing on her face. But it was when the other girl suddenly raised up again, that she knew it was a trick.

Cyra’s eyes gleamed dangerously as she stared at Graham, parting her lips softly, “I live a very dangerous life, Graham. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Not that any of it is your business.” Graham made a choked noise, parting her lips to speak, but Cyra was having none of it.

“Is that just what you do? Look at other flaws and ask them about it, pretending to be concerned, because you want them to feel just as small as you do?” Her gaze was piercing, cold. Graham winced at the jab, and shot back, “Don’t act like you know me, Lupin.”

“You’re right. I don’t know you as the lovely girl you present yourself as.” Cyra’s voiced edged into a darker tone, “But I’ve seen enough of your real personality to say this.” She took a step towards Graham, watching amused as the older girl leaped back in fear.

Tucking her arms behind her back, Cyra spoke in a chillingly serious tone, “Graham, no matter how many jewels or pretty lipsticks you try to adorn yourself with, it will never be able to cover the stench of your rotten insides.”  She let the statement hang in the air, not removing her intense stare from her enemy. Graham looked both startled and angry, her eye twitching from stress as she wracked her head for something, anything that could make the young scarred girl to back down.

The hall alit with soft gasps and whispering. The Heads Table was doing nothing, all the Professors and Headmaster watching the interaction in silence.

Graham had nothing. So she did the only thing she could. She swung. Cyra didn’t stop her, allowing her hand to make contact with her cheek, hitting her hard enough that there was a loud ringing smack in the hall. Satisfied she got her hit, Graham spatted out, “Fuck you, Lupin, you bitch!”

Then all she saw was the floor.  

“Sorry. I forget my strength sometimes.” Cyra chimed above her in a sweet tone.

Did she just get her ass kicked? She reached up and touched her throbbing eye, wincing as she feels it beginning to swell. Pushing herself up onto her feet, she shouted at Cyra, “Did you bloody punch me!? I only slapped you!”

Cyra offered her a guilty smile, though she didn’t look to feel all that bad, “Sorry. I was raised by a single dad. Never really got the whole slapping thing.” Fred and George snickered from behind her. As did most of the other Gryffindors.

Finally, Graham looked towards the Head Table for help. But they were acting as if they saw nothing, keeping their heads down. That wasn’t fair. Cyra looked over in worry, before deciding she should just end this before she got in trouble.

 ‘Stick your hand in the werewolf’s den and get bit’ Her wolf chimed inside her head.

A soft smile appeared on her lips, taking a deep breath before addressing Graham again, “Even if you coat a bee’s stinger in honey, it doesn’t make the sting any less painful.” At the girl’s confused look, she sighed, “Even if you act like a nice person, it doesn’t mean you don’t hurt people. And eventually you’re going to sting the wrong person, and your stinger will fall off.”

“Is that a threat?” Graham shot back.

“No.” Cyra replied, her pupils dilating as she stared at Graham, “That’s just nature. Survival of the fittest.” Then, as if a switch was flipped, she went back to her usual kind smile, “Which, by the way, is how I got this scar. Nature.  I went for a walk and took a tumble down a hill and into a bushel of spiky prickly plants..” She gave a good-natured shrug, letting out a laugh, “Clumsy me.”

Some students laughed with her. Graham saw right through it. It was obvious that Cyra said that to lighten the mood. From how predatory she was looking a moment ago, it told Graham that the scar was definitely not caused by some wild spiky prickly plants. But what choice did she have but to accept it? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the real reason. Holding her swelling eye, she gritted out, “Be more careful next time, Lupin.” Before she started to go find Madam Pomfrey.

As she passed Cyra, she heard a whisper, “Right back at you.” She turned her head to look at her, but the young girl was already taking her seat again. Shivering, she hurried out.

“That was amazing, Cyra! You just bit her head off, like..rargh!” Lee was fanboying as they entered the Gryffindor Room.

“Oh honestly.” She rolls her eyes, amused, “I’m lucky that McGonagall didn’t bite my head off.” Fred wrapped his arm around her shoulders, rubbing her arm comfortingly, “Hey, I bet McGonagall was thinking the same thing we were.”

“She got what she deserved!” George chimed in, patting her on the back. Fred laughed at his twin, pointing a finger at him, “Exactly! Plus, we got to see Cyra’s right hook in action!” George feigned to swoon over the couch, falling back,  “A total knockout, be still, my heart!”

Lee Jordan snickered before nudging Cyra, “You were incredible. The way you swung was so clean. So fast!” She gave him an appreciative smile, “Thank you, Lee. My Papa taught me how to punch. I was worried I might have gone too hard when she hit the ground like that.”

“Nah, she got what she deserved!”

“Even Headmaster Dumbledore didn’t stop you!”

(Meanwhile, on that side of events.)

Severus watched the fourth year Hufflepuff approach Cyra, saying something that caused her to stiffen in her chocolate tasting. Nudging Minerva next to him, he motioned to Cyra’s direction with his head, “What do you think is happening down there?”

Minerva looked where he was motioning, her eyes widening in curiosity as she watches Cyra stand up and say something back. “She looks like she's forcing a smile. Can’t be anything good that girl is saying to her.” She chimed in, seeing the Potions Master nod out the corner of her eye.

“What on earth do you get up to, Lupin, that you get so marred up?” The snotty voice came clearly through the student’s chatter.

McGonagall gasped, dropping her biscuit, “She did not..” She whispered in shock. Severus’s eyes were wide, watching Cyra bow her head in defeat. After a moment, he said softly, “Lupin isn’t just going to let her get away with that, is she?”

“No. She’s definitely not.” Another voice interjected. They turned to see Dumbledore staring at the pair of girls, his eyes watching in a calculating manner, “If I know our Miss Lupin enough. She’ll be able to beat this girl with her kind and loving personality.” Severus rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his water.

“I live a very dangerous life, Graham. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Not that any of it is your business.”

He snorted in his cup, water going up his nose. As Severus was trying to muffle his coughing, Cyra was still going.

“Is that just what you do? Look at other flaws and ask them about it, pretending to be concerned, because you want them to feel just as small as you do?”

Minerva’s mouth dropped as she listened, feeling pride blossom in her chest.

“Don’t act like you know me, Lupin.”

“You’re right. I don’t know you as the lovely girl you present yourself as.” All of the professors were now watching, food abandoned as they watch in anticipation, “But I’ve seen enough of your real personality to say this.”

“Ooh, ooh, she’s stepping towards her.” Flitwick quipped in.

They watched the young werewolf tuck her arms politely behind her back, “Graham, no matter how many jewels or pretty perfumes you try to adorn yourself with, it will never be able to cover the stench of your rotten insides.” 

Before she could stop herself, Minerva whispered, “Atta girl.” Dumbledore was frozen solid, terribly confused by how wrong he was.  Severus smirked and picked up his fork, “Her kind and loving personality indeed."

Dumbledore shot him a glare before clearing his throat, “Well, everyone has a line. It seems Miss Lupin’s was crossed. Even the saints have limited patience.”

There was a resounding smacking sound, and their heads shot back to the scene. Cyra’s head was turned to the side, her burning cheek in clear sight.

“D-Did she..” Quirrell stammered.

“Fuck you, Lupin, you bitch!”

They watched as Miss Graham got a cocky smile on her face. There was a moment of silence, a ticking of the clock. And then the entire Great Hall watched as the small teen reared her arm back and threw her fist at rapid speed. It felt like the world was in slow motion, watching her fist hit bulls-eye and Graham being thrown to the ground by the force.

By the time they could all blink, Cyra was back in her usual stance, speaking sweetly down at the older girl, “Sorry. I forget my strength sometimes.”

Severus scoffed in amusement, the edges of his lips turning up into a smile. He was quick to cover his mouth, hiding it. Minerva was still slack-jawed, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Quirrell looked a cross between curious and slightly terrified. Flitwick was doing a silent fistpump. The Hufflepuff Head, Pomona Sprout, she was staring at the scene with pride.

“Don’t underestimate Hufflepuffs.” She whispered to Flitwick, “Honeybadgers have some deadly claws.” He gave an appreciative noise, chuckling to himself.

“Did you bloody punch me!? I only slapped you!”

“Sorry. I was raised by a single dad. Never really got the whole slapping thing.”

Headmaster Dumbledore’s lips quirked up at the mention of her father, “Seems Remus taught her well.” Minerva gave a giggle, covering it quickly with a cough, “Hmm..indeed.”

“Heads down.” Trelawney rasped out. They all quickly followed her suggestion, looking down at their plates. Just as they did, they felt the stare from Miss Graham. But there would be no help offered here. From their view, it seemed Cyra returned the favor, and all was fair.

“Even if you coat a bee’s stinger in honey, it doesn’t make the sting any less painful.” Their ears perked at Cyra’s voice, hearing her exasperated sigh as Graham didn’t seem to understand what she was saying, “Even if you act like a nice person, it doesn’t mean you don’t hurt people. And eventually you’re going to sting the wrong person, and your stinger will fall off.”

“Very wise advice.” Dumbledore murmured softly to the others, who nodded in agreement.

“Is that a threat?”

“No. That’s just nature. Survival of the fittest.” Severus looked up from his plate, seeing Cyra’s eyes shimmering a bright gold. It sent shivers down his spine. She was too similar to her father, and her predatory gaze reminded him of a memory he’s tried his best to forget.

“Which, by the way, is how I got this scar. Nature. I went for a walk and took a tumble down a hill and into a bushel of spiky prickly plants..clumsy me.” They listened to her laugh, feeling the tense mood lighten slightly. The other students seemed to enjoy her joke, laughing with her. The entire head table was silent. They knew exactly what Cyra was hinting at, and so did Graham.

“A-Alas, a rabbit p-pokes the wolf and gets bit.” Quirrell quips quietly. Dumbledore looked at him curiously for a moment before replying, “Only a fool would present themselves as the apex predator when there will always be something stronger and bigger.” Quirrell seemed to shake a bit under his gaze, “F-Funny, c-considering how small the a-apex predator is.”

Dumbledore glances back, chuckling as he sees what he means. Cyra was indeed quite shorter than Graham, having to look up at her. It was almost comedic. But he knew that the situation was anything but funny. Cyra was standing up for herself, which he expected would happen, but she also just went outside her anticipated moves. Unpredictable. That chaos unsettled him deeply, niggling at that part of him that desired control. She would be a wild card he’d need to watch.

Chapter Text

Cyra shivered as she felt a cold breeze go over her shoulders, curling up tighter in her duvet. It was almost Christmas, so the frost had come over. Feeling another cold sweep against her cheek, she whined and opened her eyes to look for the cause.

There was Sarah, sitting with the window wide open, wearing just her nightgown. Cyra watched her for a moment before sitting up, whispering, “Sarah?” There was no physical response. Beginning to worry, she threw her sheets off and padded over to her housemate. Sarah’s eyes looked blank, just staring out at the night sky.

Unsure of what to do, Cyra leaned against the edge of the window, keeping her voice low so she didn’t wake their other housemates, “Sarah? You okay?” The girl in question still had no response. Just staring and blinking at the dark sky. She reached out to take her hand, gasping as she felt how cold Sarah’s hand was, “Merlin, French, how long have you been sitting out here?”

“..Two..maybe three hours..” Sarah uttered softly, still frozen in place. Cyra stared at her in worry, her brows furrowing. After a moment, she turned around, “Stay there.” No need to tell Sarah twice, she was obviously going nowhere. Cyra padded quickly over to her bed, ripping the duvet and sheets off of it. With them bunched up in her arms, she hurried back.

As Sarah sat stiff, Cyra managed to get the sheets and blankets around her shoulders, tucking them in firmly. That should at least warm her up some. Cyra took a seat next to her, looking out at the dark sky she seemed infatuated with, “It is pretty..I guess. I prefer daytime. I can see the clouds, and the sun is so warm..”

“Not like night. Night is cruel, and the Moon offers nothing. It’s cold.”

 Cyra glanced at Sarah curiously, “So definitely not a night person?” Sarah managed a small smile, looking at her knowingly, “Are you saying you are?” Fear settled into Cyra’s heart, her managing out a forced laugh, “No. Definitely not. I-I’m not good with cold temperatures.” Sarah let out a hum, looking back out at the sky, “Yeah, winter is hard when you’re human. We don’t have protective fur like animals do.” She thought about it for a second before turning to Cyra again, “Say, do you think witches and wizards that are animagus stay in that form during winter?”

She had to actually think about that. Winter was easier for her when she transformed, the fur presenting warmth. She supposed animagus would spend it in their animal form. Realizing Sarah was still waiting on her answer, she blurted out, “Yes. I do. I would.” The muggleborn witch gave a soft giggle at her response, teasing, “You’re so awkward, Lupin. You can relax. It’s just us.”

Cyra gave a guilty smile, trying to ease herself back against the windowsill, “Sorry..” Sarah waved her off, looking back at the sky, “You know..” Her voice peaked in curiosity, “I do wonder how it felt to punch Graham.” She let out a laugh, Cyra joining in,  “You really wiped that grin off her face.”  Cyra gave a grin, her eyes twinkling from the moonlight, “It felt..really good. Like really really good.”

Sarah snickered, glancing at her, “You seem pleased with yourself.” Cyra gave a nod before commenting, “I do feel slightly bad though. I felt her nose crunch, I hope she can get it re-set.” The witch beside her snorted and joked, “I hope it’s crooked. Just like her.”

Cyra’s eyebrow raised at Sarah’s attitude, wasn’t this the same girl who says rock is the devil’s music? As if reading her thoughts, the muggleborn admitted, “My mother is full of rubbish, I’m beginning to realize that.” She made a hum so Sarah would know she was listening.

“It’s just.. it’s hard. Having to relearn everything, and figuring out what was true and what was all lies. Like, I had to have my period explained to me by a grocery clerk. Do you know how embarrassing that is?” 

Cyra winced, before meekly replying, “Kind of. Mine was a nice lady at a movie theater bathroom, who.. I think was trying to hit on my Papa.”

Sarah looked at her curiously, “Oh? Did he take her on a date?” Cyra shook her head, “No, no, my Papa isn’t into women.” She paid no mind to how Sarah froze, and added, “Also, he’s not over his last relationship. I don’t think he ever will. He really loved him.”

“Him? Meaning..”

“Yeah.”

“Mr. Lupin is..”

“Gay, yeah.”

Sarah swallowed thickly, looking back out at the sky. Cyra allowed the silence to come, watching Sarah out the corner of her eye. She seemed to be fighting with herself, her face scrunching in frustration. After some time, Sarah forced out, “Well.. as long as he’s happy.”

Cyra figured that was enough for now. She knew that Sarah was still unlearning everything her mother told her, she was sure there was plenty awful things said about people like her Papa. But this was enough. Cyra gave the witch a warm smile, “Thank you. He is. Though..” She trailed off, her eyes looking away, “I think he would be a lot happier with his love.”

“Well, why isn’t he? You could have two dads.”

“Because he’s in..um..” Cyra winced as she realized how bad it would sound, “He was locked up.”

“Oh..well when is his sentence up?”

Cyra bit her lip, beginning to feel embarrassed, “He’s..in for life.” Sarah’s eyes seemed to get wide, “What did he do?” She hesitated, thinking about how to phrase this, but also wondering what the real truth is, “He got framed, and it was a tainted jury, he was to life without a trial.”

“Well, that’s awfully shady.” Sarah noted, relaxing a bit, “Do you think he was targeted?  Maybe he knew something?” She honestly hadn’t thought of that. At the realization, she asked Sarah, “What for, though?” Her only answer was a shrug.

After a moment, Sarah asked, “Has your Papa ever spoken to him after the arrest? Surely they allow visitors.” She shook her head, “No, he said it was too painful.” The muggleborn nodded before following it up with, “Reason why I ask is because, if no one is speaking to him, then how do we find out the truth? He was basically silenced from whoever didn’t want him to speak. So what does he have to say that is so important?”

Cyra stared at Sarah in awe, her voice breathless, “You’re right..you’re so right. How did you figure that?” The other witch shrugged, “I watch a lot of true crime with my Grandmother.” Cyra looked impressed, “Oh. That’s cool.”

“So, how are you spending your holidays?”

“Home, with my Papa.  We’ll probably make some hot chocolate, listen to Fleetwood Mac or Queen while baking, dance.. watch Christmas movies. You?”

“I’m playing Mary in our church’s live nativity scene..”

“My condolences, French.”

Sarah let out a laugh, “Thanks, Lupin. I’ll pray for your eardrums with all that racket you listen to.”

“Remind me again what we’re doing here?” Cedric asked for the fourth time. He wasn’t lagging behind, keeping in step with her, but he would still complain.

She gave him an exasperated look, “I need your help finding presents for the twins!” He groans as she takes him into the joke shop, ducking as something bright flew past his head.

“Anything you give them better not be lethal.” He teases, looking around the bright and festive shop. Cyra picked up a bar of frog spawn soap, looking it over, “I would never. This is just some little gifts for them. Their real big presents have to be different. I refuse to get them the same thing.”

“Why?” Cedric asked, flicking a strange fuzz off his shoulder.

“Because it shows I don’t just see them as twins. They’re two separate people, Fred Weasley and George Weasley.” She replied softly, running her fingers over some of the biting teacups, “They don’t show it, but they hate it when people treat them like they are the same. They are partners till the end, but they bring different things to the table.”

“You would know better than all of us.” He compliments her, “You’re the one person who can tell them apart, it’s incredible.” She glances at him with a secretive smile, “I guess it’s our childhood bond.”

“I guess so.” He shrugs, going over to the stinkbomb aisle, “Dungbombs are always classic.” She snatches up a packet of candy, “Some hiccough sweets too, since I’m sure they’ll get sick of Percy’s rambling.” She took four dungbombs and placed them in her basket, “Let’s check these out and we can go to the next location.”

Cedric followed after her, commenting, “Am I just your shopping buddy?” She glanced at him with a teasing smile, “Oh I’m sorry, am I interrupting some big date you had? Don’t let me get in the way of you and your secret admirers.” He shoved her playfully, chuckling, “I don’t mind. But you did promise we’d go to the three broomsticks and you’d treat me to a butterbeer.”

She stepped into line to get checked out, commenting, “Did I promise to treat you? I thought we agreed to go out for a drink.”

“Yes, but then you tricked me into shopping with you. So now you’re buying me a butterbeer.”

She tsked at him before giving in, “Fine, I’ll get you a butterbeer.” 

“And some chips and f-“

“Don’t push it, Diggory.”

He watched as her eyes cut over their shoulders, looking behind them. He glanced back, but saw nothing but the witches and wizards that roamed around. When he gave her a questioning look, she acted as if nothing was wrong, walking faster.

Their next stop was Gladrags Wizardwear, where Cyra tore off to the socks instantly. Cedric had to keep up, snickering at her excitement, “Don’t tell me the twins really like socks.”  She waved him off, picking up a pair with a constellation design. As she lifted it up, she watched as the stars moved around and twinkled like the night sky.

Her eyes lit up in awe, she murmured, “Fred likes weird socks. He hides it, but he always wears them under his uniform. Just the other day, he was wearing his unicorn ones.” Cedric stared at her, confused by this new information, “But..those socks are just pretty.”

“Mmhm..” She gives him a smile, “But they have a fun feature.” She wiggles the socks before placing them in her basket, “These will scream loudly if they get too smelly, and won’t stop till you wash them.” She looks through a couple more pairs, picking a few more fun patterns and tossing them in.

Cedric needed to know more. He followed her to the next shop with a pep in his step, before quickly becoming confused when he saw where they were going, “Why are we going to Tomes and Scrolls?”

“For George.” She replied simply, opening the door and jingling the bell up above their heads. Cedric walked in after her, looking around curiously, “I didn’t imagine either of the Weasley Twins were big bibliophiles.”

She gave a hum, heading over to a smaller muggle literature section, “Well, Fred likes more activities that are hands on, but George enjoys reading in his private time.” She took out a book and looked at the cover, “Hm..” She flipped it open and read a couple of lines.

Curious, Cedric looked at the front cover, raising his brow, “Shadows of Dreams?” He peers over at the pages, “Is this..poetry?” Cyra nodded, closing the book and placing it in her basket. She took another book called, ‘WolfWatching’, giving it a lookover before taking it as well.

As she headed over to check out, Cedric filed after her, questioning her loudly, “You’re telling me George is into poetry?” She bounced on her heels, waiting in line, “That’s right.” He shook his head, whispering to himself, “Who knew..”

He watched as her eyes cut to the window, narrowing slightly. He looked out, but once again, nothing. His brows furrowed as he watched her snap back to reality when it was her turn at the register. She acted normal, speaking politely to the clerk and making small talk as he wraps up her purchases. Cedric watched her for a moment, before giving a small shrug. Maybe he was just imagining things.

Once they were out, she led him to The Three Broomsticks. Getting a seat, she shrunk the stuff she bought, placing them into her bag. Cedric watched her, still confused about something. He let her get settled before asking, “So, why did you want me to come with you?”

Realizing what he meant, she let out a quiet laugh before motioning to the window behind her head, “So they’d back off.” His eyes shifted to look over her shoulder, where he saw both Fred and George standing out in the snow, their scarves covering their lower half of their faces, but their red hair sticking out brightly amongst the dull shops.

His jaw dropped as it hit him, “Have..” He looked back to her face, “Have they been following us this entire time?” She gave a nod, the corner of her mouth quirking up, “I believe they think we’re on a date, so they’re keeping their distance.” He spared them another glance, an amused smile forming, “Are you going to let them know that you’re aware?”

She said nothing, turning to address the barmaid who came to their table, “May I have four hot butterbeers?” She gave over the sickles and sat back. Cedric waited for her to say something, before he decided to just ask, “Four?” Cyra smiled sweetly, but said nothing, the sound of the bell jingling taking his attention.

Lo and behold, there was a frost covered Fred and George, and they were making their way over. Cyra turned to greet them, “Hello boys, awfully nippy today, isn’t it?” They hurried to sit next to her, one climbing over Cedric so he could sit next to her other side. Once they were situated in, Cedric felt their piercing glares.

“Diggory.” One addressed him, but he couldn’t tell which.

Cyra seemed to be more relaxed with them near, speaking cheerfully, “Fred, George, this is Cedric. You’ve already met, so don’t be rude.” Both boys went to speak, but she cut them off, “Especially since he helped me shop for you two.”

Cedric watched as realization entered their expressions, their posture relaxing. They showed no anger at being deceived, turning to his friend with childish grins.

“What did you get us?”

“Spill, Lupin.”

Cyra rolled her eyes, smiling politely at the barmaid as she approached. As the butterbeers were placed in front of them all, Fred and George looked from the warm frothy mugs to the young witch between them. Cedric felt his curiosity peak as he saw that familiar warmth enter their eyes. They didn’t look at anyone else like that.

She didn’t seem to notice, picking up her mug and taking a sip. He decided to follow, lifting his mug to his lips as he looked away, allowing them their privacy.

Once they all warmed up from the cold winter air, the Weasley Twins were much chattier.

“So, mum sends us this letter saying they’re going to Romania to visit Charlie for Christmas.”

“But do we get to asked to go? No!”

Cedric chuckled, leaning back on the booth, “I’m sure you two would just hate to go to Romania.” Cyra snickered into her mug, “Yeah, who needs dragons? You guys have Percy!”

They looked disgusted at the thought. Fred takes a roll of bread, biting into it grumpily, “Prefect Percy..” George sighed, leaning his head on Cyra’s shoulder, “I’m more worried about Ron. Of all the times they have to take a vacation, they do it in Ron’s first year? He was looking forward to mum’s roast.”

So that’s what they were worried about. Cedric gave them a warm smile, “He’s lucky to have big brothers like you.” George gave him a grateful look, but Fred was still fuming about the situation.  Cyra rubbed his back, speaking softly, “I agree with you, Fred. It is frustrating. But you’ll be here for Ron, and he’ll also have Harry.”

George nodded, taking a piece of bread for himself, picking off pieces, “True. We’ll be fine. We’ll find ways to amuse ourselves, we’ve got some things planned for Percy.”

Cyra smiled at that, giving Cedric a knowing look, “It isn’t Christmas if Percy isn’t screaming in terror.”

“It’s not Christmas if you’re not there.” Fred shot back. She looked at him in shock, before her eyes softened. Cedric knew she felt terrible about leaving them behind. They always spent Christmas together at the burrow. Mrs. Weasley didn’t notify them till last minute, so she already had plans to go home.

George reached over Cyra to pat Fred’s back, “Come on mate, don’t bring down the mood. We’ll get her the rest of the school year and summer.” Cedric watched as the brothers shared some kind of twin telepathy, in the blink of an eye, Fred cheered up, “You’re right.” He looked at Cyra with an apologetic smile, “Sorry Cy, I’m just in a tiff.”

She gave him an understanding smile, before replying, “It isn’t Christmas without you two, either.”

Cedric stared at the scene before him in amusement, wondering when the trio will figure it out themselves. Until then, he’ll remain silent.

Harry had no clue how to do this. Should he give up? If he doesn’t, he’ll just be slaughtered.

“What’s your move, Potter?”

He swallows thickly, his hands trembling. Mustering up the courage, he says, “Knight to E5.”

“No!” Seamus shouts. Dean covers his face in shame. Ron gave Harry a smirk before looking back at the board, “King to-“

“FOR THE LAST TIME YOUNG LADY, I AM NOT LETTING YOU IN WITHOUT A PASSWORD!”

The entire common room went quiet at the sound of the Fat Lady shrieking. Heads turned toward the entrance, trying to hear what was being said outside.

“HOW DARE YOU TAKE THAT LANGUAGE WITH ME! NOW YOU ARE DEFINITELY NOT ENTERING. YOU ARE BANNED LUPIN! I WISH YOU TOOK AFTER YOUR FATHER IN MANNERS, YOU CRETIN!”

Boisterous laughter came from Fred and George as they descended down their dorm stairs, hurrying to the door. As they pushed it open, the Fat Lady was shouting angrily.

“OH! OH! YOU TWO TROUBLEMAKERS! DO NOT LET HER INSIDE! I SAID NO! STOP!”

Harry stood up, leaning over the couch to see who it was. Once the portrait was opened completely, a red-faced Cyra appeared, still shouting, “OH SHUT IT, YOU COW. I’ve been here three years, you know who I am! You’ve just got a stick so far up your-“ She cut off as she saw the twins, “Oh, hi! I-I came to say goodbye.” She looked over their shoulders to see the entire common room staring at her, “Oh, hello. Sorry about that, she’s..” She motioned to the portrait, “..difficult.”

The twins pulled her in, snickering. As soon as Cyra’s eyes landed on Harry, a large grin formed on her face, “Just the boy I was looking for.” He felt glee at the fact she stopped by for him. Navigating around some of his fellow Gryffindors, he threw himself at her, hugging her tightly. She gives a soft laugh, hugging him back just as tight.

“Have a Happy Christmas, Harry.”

“Happy Christmas Cyra.” He whispered softly into her sweater.  He felt her hand gently pet his hair, and relaxed against her. Cyra was always very affectionate, and he was so attention-starved, he welcomed moments like this.

Cyra gave him a kiss on his forehead before pulling away, “Be good. Don’t let Ron wound your ego too much. He’s had years to get good at Wizard Chess. You’ll get there.” He felt a bit better about his horrible playing skills, wondering how she knew how defeated he felt. She gave him a wink before turning back to the twins.

“Boys.” She opens her arms for them. They understood the assignment, gathering her quickly into a Weasley sandwich.

Fred looked pained as he held her, his twin not looking too far off, though George seemed close to tears. Cyra held them tightly, breathing in deeply, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Fred grumbles something before saying clearly, “Tell Mr. Lupin that he’s getting no toilet seats from us. Payback for stealing you away.” She laughs, patting his back, “Understood.”

George pulls away and looks at her with a soft smile, “Get there safely. Write us as soon as you get home.” Fred nodded, stepping back, pointing a finger at Cyra, “If you don’t, we’ll flood your house with letters until you’re forced to write us.”

Her laughter makes the Gryffindors smile, playfulness twinkling in her eyes as she replies, “If you do that, I’ll send you a worm for each letter you send. You’ll drown in worms.”

Fred shoots back, “We’ll just eat them.”

Cyra’s nose crinkles up as she giggles, “Gross. I’m leaving.”

She turns away from them, waving at Hermione and Ron before heading out, her curls bouncing around her as she hurries out.

After grabbing the things she left in the hall, she shouts to the Fat Lady, “Happy Christmas, you shrill cow!” 

At the sharp breath from the portrait, Cyra hurried off before the Fat Lady could shout at her.

“YOU ILL MANNERED MUTT! YOU COME BACK HERE! DON’T IGNORE ME! I WILL HAVE DUMBLEDORE-“

One of the twins grabbed the portrait and slammed it shut. The Gryffindors went back to what they were doing.

“EXCUSE ME!? DO YOU CHILDREN HAVE NO CONCEPT OF MANNERS!? HELLO?! OH HONESTLY!”

Chapter Text

As the train filled out, and Cyra hugged Cedric goodbye, she hurried to the platform. Looking around, her eyes swept the crowd before landing on her Papa.

Remus was hurrying to her, excusing himself as he has to push past others. Once he reached her, he swept her up in a hug, “Oh lookit you! You’ve gotten so big!” She laughed and hugged him back, “I’ve barely grown an inch, Papa.” He holds her for a moment before setting her down, smiling happily at her, “You have no clue how happy I am to see you.” 

She took his hand, squeezing it softly, “I missed you too Papa.” Remus quickly gathers himself, wiping his watery eyes, “Right, let’s get home. I’m sure Biscuit will want to be free after such a long ride.” He taps her owl’s cage before levitating her things, guiding her to the floo.

Once she got settled in, Cyra sat down on the couch and let out an enormous sigh of relief, “Finally out of that uniform.” She had already changed into one of Remus’s old band shirts, and some pajama pants. Remus sat in the recliner, looking over to her in amusement, “So, what have you gotten up to this year?”

She laid back against the couch’s armrest, humming, “I’m excelling in potions, Professor Snape said I made a potion that was almost identical to his own.” Remus raised a brow at that, looking at her in awe, “Is that so? Do you think you want to be a Potions Master when you grow up?” She shook her head, sighing, “No. It seems like such a depressing life.”

He chuckled, “Are you saying that Professor Snape is depressed?”

She shot him a look, causing him to laugh again. Cyra gave a small chuckle before continuing, “I’m having some issues with defense still. It’s not a problem with my wand, it’s a problem with me. Professor Quirrell says I need to connect more to my emotions.” Remus caught the bite in her voice when she mentioned the DADA Professor.

“Why are you angry with him?” He asked calmly. She looked at him shocked, as if she thought he read her mind. No, he just knew his little girl. She took a moment before replying, “He wanted to do this anonymous interview with werewolf. But he completely twisted my words, and made werewolves out to be monsters.” Cyra hesitated to tell he dad, but she decided it was best to be honest, “So..I decided to spike his water with Confusion Draught I brewed in Professor Snape’s class.”

He nodded along, showing no judgement, “How did you get your potion from Snape? He makes you leave them.”

“I stole it while distracting him with cookies.”

Remus was unable to hold back his laughter, shaking his head, “How did it work?”

“He looked so loony, people completely took his werewolf story apart. They say it’s fake.”

He was impressed, giving her a look of approval, “Well done.”

She turned her head to him, giving him a mischievous smile, “And I punched Graham.” He froze, his eyes wide. She quickly followed it up with, “She slapped me first.” He relaxed at that, “Did you get detention?” Cyra gave an innocent smile, “Not one.”

“How?!” He sat up, looking at her incredulously.

She shrugged, “Beats me.” Remus watched her, trying to look stern, but he couldn’t hold it together. Slowly, his lips quirked up, “I feel I should scold you, but I’m so proud of you that I can’t.” He stood up, patting her head as he passed her, “Well, my little marauder, what do you want for dinner?”

Cyra hummed, thinking about it, “Hmm..can we have some..oh!” She sits up, turning to him, “Can we get Chinese takeout?” Just as the words left her mouth, she saw him holding the Chinese takeout menu, staring at her knowingly. As she laughed, he shot her a wink, “Sweet and sour chicken with eggrolls, right?”

She hops up, pointing at him, “With some extra-“

“Yum Yum Sauce. Do I ever forget?” Remus teased.

She was so happy to be home. “No, never.” Cyra replied, before teasing, “But be sure to get some sushi, I’ve heard fish is good for memory loss. Just in case.” Remus’s eyes crinkled as he grinned at her, “Good comeback, you’re getting better.”

The radio was once again blaring in the cabin, Cyra softly swaying to the music. Remus was nodding along as he wrapped his presents for the Weasleys.

‘Does anybody know what we are living for? I guess I'm learning..’

Cyra plopped the cookie down onto the counter, flour flying everywhere. As she rolled it out the dough, she sang along, “I'll soon be turning, round the corner now..”

Remus folded the griffin decorated paper, joining in under his breath, “Outside the dawn is breaking..but inside in the dark I'm aching to be free..” The tempo increased, and Cyra picked up her rolling pin at the sounds of the drums beating.  Remus and Cyra began singing loudly with the chorus, “The show must go on! The show must go on!”

As Freddie Mercury continued to sing, Remus laughed and taped a bow on the wrapped parcel, “Queen never gets old.” Cyra giggled, rolling out her dough, “They’re brilliant. Freddie has the voice of an siren.” Remus agreed, “Mm hmm, you’ve got that right.”

He pushed himself up from the floor, groaning as his knees pop. As he went over to get more wrapping paper, he said, “You know, I’ve seen them live in concert before.” Cyra’s jaw drops, looking at her father in shock, “What!? When?”

“1978.” He chuckled, picking up a roll of paper, “It was just before we graduated. We snuck out on a Hogsmeade trip.” After he got situated on the floor again, he continued, “I told Sirius that it was just before exams, but he insisted. So we went to Bingley Hall in England, saw them live. It was Sirius and I’s third date, and it was..” He let out a soft sigh, “Magical.”

Cyra watched him, her hands paused over the dough. He always got like this. Thinking back to her conversation with French, she piped in, “I had a thought.”

Remus spoke almost dazed, “Go ahead, pup.”

She felt her heart begin to race, wetting her lips before speaking, “What if we.. I mean.. It could just be you if you want. What I’m trying to say is..um.. what if we visited him?”

He blinked, confused as to what she was talking about. Looking at her, he saw her worried expression, asking, “Who are you talking about?”

She shifted, nibbling her lip. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she forces out, “Him. Sirius.” She watched as realization entered his eyes, then fear. She hurried to continue, putting her rolling pin down, “I-I just mean, you haven’t seen him in so long. You haven’t had closure. And we still don’t know if he’s guilty, maybe if you talked to him he could-“

“No.” Remus’s voice was low.

Cyra stopped speaking, looking down at the dough, “Sorry..” He took the moment of silence to collect himself, clearing his throat, “Not..now. I don’t think I’m ready, Cyra.” He gives her a small smile, hoping she wouldn’t beat herself up about it, “It’s not because I don’t want to, it just..it still..”

She met his gaze, whispering, “It still hurts.” He relaxed a bit, nodding, “Y-Yeah. It still hurts. And I don’t want to say something I regret to him. I still love him.” As the words left his lips, his eyes widened in shock. He hadn’t said it in so long.

She let him have his moment, grabbing the cookie cutters. The only sound came from the radio, the announcer shouting, “That was Queen’s newest song, ‘The Show Must Go on’! Next up, Guns N’ Roses ‘November Rain’.”

As the piano notes began to play, Remus got himself together and presented the wrapped box to Cyra, “Think they’ll know what’s in it?” She laughed as she saw the tears in the paper, revealing the kitchen organizer inside, “Oh no, they won’t be able to tell!”

He smiled at her laughter, looking at the badly wrapped gift, “Maybe I should have invested in gift bags instead.”

As Cyra dug through the decorations, she saw some pictures at the bottom of the box. Emptying it out, she gathered them up. It looked like a Christmas spent with the Marauders and a redheaded woman. Must be Lily Evans. Flipping through the photos, she spotted a picture of James and Lily under a mistletoe, a small Harry in her arms as they embrace. Infant Harry was reaching up to play with his mother’s hair.

The sentence beneath the photo read, ‘Potter Family Christmas: 1980’

Cyra watched it for some time, before putting it to the side. She’ll ask her Papa if it’s okay to give it to Harry. The next photo was the mistletoe again, but it was her dad and what must have been Sirius. Remus was laughing at him, who was trying to steal a kiss. She watched the scene, smiling as she sees her dad finally give in, and they embrace. He looked so happy. So in love.

When they break apart, Sirius looks at her, shooting a bright grin. They do look alike. He rustles his dark curls and hugs Remus close, looking at him lovingly. How could he ever betray him? They look so happy together.

Silently, she folds the photo and pockets it. Moving the decorations box into the living room, she announces, “It’s time to decorate the tree!” There was a loud thud, before Remus came hurrying out, “Don’t touch my glass ornaments! They’re fragile!”

Once the tree was decorated to Remus’s liking, they sat at the table and slowly strung popcorn garlands. The tv was on in the background. Cyra focused intensely as she pushed the needle into the popcorn. Remus was doing more munching on the popcorn than threading it.

She let out a satisfied sigh as she finished hers, “Thank merlin, that was torture.” Remus snickered, shoving another handful of popcorn in his mouth, “Oh good! You can help me finish mine!” She shot him a glare, taking her garland over to the tree.

Remus chuckled, stringing some popcorn, “Kidding, thank you for your assistance. I know how you hate such tedious tasks.” Cyra hummed as she carefully draped the garlands on the tree branches. After she was satisfied, she went back over to him, cleaning up the table. As the silence continued, Remus spared her a glance, seeing her nibbling at her lip. He waited patiently, allowing her to break the silence.

“Papa.. can we talk about Harry?” Her voice was soft as she asked. Curious as to what she meant, he gave her a raised brow, “Go on, pup.” She took a deep breath before continuing to tidy up the table, “He’s thin, malnourished. Wherever he has been placed, they’ve obviously never touched him with affection. But..” She hesitated, her voice peaking in emotion.

He put his garland down, giving her all his attention, “Go on.” She wrings her hands for a moment, looking away, “He smelled like blood when I first saw him at diagon alley. Almost like he had a fresh wound. Over time, I’ve caught glimpses of bruises and places he’d wince as if it was raw. I think they’re abusing him.”

And there it was. He understood how serious of a situation this was. Cyra looked at him with worry, “I-I know that Dumbledore personally chose where he’d go.  But what if..what if Dumbledore was wrong?” Remus shifted for a moment, feeling the chill in her words.

She swallowed before following it up with, “I know that’s awful to say, he’s one of the most powerful wizards, h-he defeated Grindelwald, but I know what I’ve seen. Harry is not safe.”

Remus thought about it for a moment, before calmly responding, “Don’t speak of this to anyone, I’ll see what I can do. Just keep an eye on Harry, make sure he’s not being mistreated.” She gave an affirmative nod, taking the trash to the kitchen.

Cyra snatched up her bomber jacket from her bed, calling out, “Papa, we’re going to be late!” She hurried to the living room, looking around for her father. He was no where to be seen. She tapped her boots impatiently on the floorboards, knowing he could hear her, “You know how Mrs. Tonks is about punctuality.”

He exited his room, fidgeting with his sweater. He looked nice, but not his usual nice. It was almost like he dressed up. His hair looked like he had been messing with it. Cyra sniffed the air, her eyebrows raising in surprise, “Are you..wearing cologne?” Remus cleared his throat awkwardly, going over to grab his jacket, “I’ve already sent a letter to Andromeda that we’d be late, we need to make a quick stop before we go over to the Tonks.”

She watched him slip a small box out from his jacket, checking it over nervously before dropping it in his pocket. It didn’t look like anything special, but it was his actions that were weird. Stepping closer to him, she asked curiously, “Where are we stopping?”

“Azkaban..” He replies firmly, before he falters with a nervous smile, “I decided to take your advice.. I think I’m ready to at least try..” Cyra’s eyes were wide with shock, “We’re going to visit him? Now?” Remus grabs his wand off the counter, slipping it into his pocket, “Well, I will. You’re still too young to enter the premises.”

She nodded, understanding. She figured it might be better if he did it alone. Once he ran out of things to do, he just stood there, staring at the door, “Well.. we better go.” Cyra raised a brow, walking to the door, “Here we go.” Looking back, she saw him still frozen.

“Papa?”

“Yep, time to go.” He replies.

She sighed, going over to him, “Papa..” Her hand slipped into his, “You look really dashing today.  It’d be a waste if he didn’t see.” Remus scolds her weakly, “I’m not going there to flirt, Cyra.” She tugged on his hand, pulling him to the door, “Sure, whatever you say. Now let’s go.”

When they reached the facility, Remus asked one of the Aurors to watch Cyra for him. They promised that she’d be completely safe, and a guard guided him out to the cells. It was cold, the sound of painful moaning and maniacal screaming filling the air. He shivered as he heard familiar high-pitched cackling. Bellatrix Lestrange, an awful piece of work.

He knew that Andromeda hadn’t made any attempt to be in contact with her sister, which he found to be fair. Bellatrix was too far gone, and had been for a while. Even Sirius thought so when they were in Hogwarts. Sirius..

He was nearing the cell, and he felt his chest growing heavy. Typically it was very hard to get a visitation pass, but he was lucky enough to have connections. Or rather, Andromeda had connections, being a Black. When he asked her for this favor, she told him to be careful. But he could tell a part of her held hope.

He wished he had that. Instead, he was just filled with anxiety, his hands trembling as he nears the cell.

“Here you are, sir.” The guard motioned to the dark cell with runes carved deep in the stone. Remus took in a shaking breath, stepping closer. It got colder as he neared the cell, his heart gripped with ice. As the light shone into the cell, he saw the shell of the man he knew. Sirius was ragged, his eyes dulled and unfocused.

Remus held down all the emotions that threatened to bubble over, “H-Hello Padfoot..” He noticed the guard went to check the other cells, perhaps to give them space.  Glancing back to his former lover, he saw he hadn’t moved, “Sirius?” He tried again. Nothing. How long had he been like this?

He takes in a deep breath, taking out the box from his pocket, “I wanted you to have this..” He makes sure the guard isn’t looking, before placing the box behind the bars, giving it a push. The box slid along the cell floor, before running into Sirius’s outstretched leg.

Remus waited a moment to see if he’d take it, before continuing, “A lot has changed. I have a daughter.”  He began to ramble, trying to pretend he was speaking to old Sirius, “Not in the way you think, I’ve never been with anyone since.. well.. anyway, I adopted her. She’s absolutely brilliant. Smart mouth, but that’s all I can ask for, I can’t stand the thought of someone pushing her around. She’s been through enough..”

There was a long pause.

He cleared his throat, looking up at the sky, “She’s like me, only reason they allowed me to adopt her. I’m so grateful though, cause she makes life worth living. Having that sweet little girl depend on me was the only thing keeping me from losing it. After everything..” He feels the tears form in his eyes, “She’s the one who suggested I see you. She believes you didn’t do it. And I-I..” His voice catches, “I want to believe it too. I really do.”

“….m..”

Was that a response? He looks at Sirius in shock, his heart leaping as he sees those familiar grey eyes. Looking right at him.

“She reminds me of you.” He stammers out, trying to see if he catches anything in Sirius’s expression, but the shadows made it hard, “Others have hinted at it. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d believe it.  She has your hair, dark and wild curls everywhere. But she also somehow got your quirks. I don’t know how, maybe it was from all the stories I let slip.”

Did those eyes soften, or was it just his imagination? He feels the tears fall down his cheeks as he tries not to blink, “She has your smile, your laugh, and that mischievous smirk when she’s up to something. Perhaps choosing her playmates to be the Weasley twins was a bad idea. One of these days, they’re going to surpass us.” 

“..Moony..” Sirius rasped out, shifting slightly from his position on the wall. Remus’s sight blurred by tears, watching him move.

“Mr. Lupin, times up.” The guard appeared at Remus’s side. He quickly wiped at his eyes, “Could I have a few more minutes?”

“Sorry, but no. Too much socialization will make the prisoners agitated. Can’t have that.”

Remus felt his heart shatter, but he remained a straight face, stepping off to the side, “Oh, my apologies then.”  He was led off, fighting the urge to cry. When he got inside, Cyra immediately knew something was off. He was polite, thanking the auror before leading her out.

She took his hand softly, squeezing his hand. He felt it, and found the strength to keep it together.

It was Christmas. He knew that from the paper he borrowed from the guard. The Dementors had their early present, feasting off of the Prisoners. He felt so tired, so sore. He’s been in the same spot since earlier, slumped against the wall.

How long had it been? Ten years? The date on the paper confirmed it was. He didn’t know why he bothered to keep count.  He was going to be here for a lot longer than that. All thanks to that rat. Not even anger could help him out of this emptiness.

“H-Hello Padfoot.”

Was that? No, couldn’t be. There was no way he could be here.

“Sirius?”

He knew that voice, but how?

“I wanted you to have this..”

He heard something slide inside, not able to react as whatever it was nudged his leg. It was quiet. He felt his heart ache, wanting to hear him more. He forgot how sweet Remus’s voice sounded.

“A lot has changed. I have a daughter.” 

What?

“Not in the way you think, I’ve never been with anyone since.. well..”

Since them. He felt a lump form in his throat that he couldn’t swallow. Remus waited this entire time for him. But what good was he now?

“Anyway, I adopted her. She’s absolutely brilliant. Smart mouth, but that’s all I can ask for, I can’t stand the thought of someone pushing her around. She’s been through enough. She’s like me, only reason they allowed me to adopt her.”

Oh Moony. He couldn’t imagine how it felt for Remus to see her go through that.

“I’m so grateful though, cause she makes life worth living. Having that sweet little girl depend on me was the only thing keeping me from losing it. After everything.. She’s the one who suggested I see you. She believes you didn’t do it. And I-I..”

Say you forgive me. He didn’t think he could live if Remus hated him.

“I want to believe it too. I really do.”

He needed to see him. His heart yearned just for a peek. Using his strength, he forced his head to tilt to the side, taking in the sight of Remus greedily. His one true love. His Moony.

“…m..” He tried so desperately to call out to him. Moony I’m right here.

He felt a comforting relief when those gorgeous amber eyes met his. He watched Remus do that nervous little twitch, stammering, “She reminds me of you.”

Oh, merlin must be on his side. He remembered all the times he would daydream of sharing a child with Remus. He wanted to know more.

“Others have hinted at it. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d believe it.  She has your hair, dark and wild curls everywhere. But she also somehow got your quirks. I don’t know how, maybe it was from all the stories I let slip.”

Oh, he could see her now. He would do so much for her, teach her how to ride his motorbike, take her to the best rock concerts.

“She has your smile, your laugh, and that mischievous smirk when she’s up to something.”

It was like his dreams come true, a little marauder.

“Perhaps choosing her playmates to be the Weasley twins was a bad idea. One of these days, they’re going to surpass us.” 

Us. He missed that so much. That was supposed to be their life together, raising their daughter together. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be with him. His Moony.

“..Moony..” He finally managed, cringing at how rough he sounded. That definitely wouldn't have Remus swooning. His eyes stayed on Remus’s form, gritting his teeth as he tries to get up.  He needed to be closer to him. To tell him. Maybe he could still have a chance.

“Mr. Lupin, times up.” One of the guards came up.

No! Not like this!

“Could I have a few more minutes?”

Please.

“Sorry, but no. Too much socialization will make the prisoners agitated. Can’t have that.”

“Oh, my apologies then.”

Come back. He slumped against the stone, watching him go with a heavy heart. So much left unsaid.

Shifting his legs, he heard something scratch against the floor. Looking down, he saw a small box. It must have been what Remus got him.

His thin fingers carefully picked up the box, shakily opening it. Inside was a picture of him and Remus, having their own Christmas at the cabin after they celebrated with James and Lily. He watched as his younger self rubbed his pocket, the small black box hidden beneath. That was the night he proposed.

In the photograph, Remus was smiling shyly, snuggled along his side. No idea about what Sirius was planning. Placing it to the side delicately, he looked inside the box, feeling his breath catch.

It was a new photo, with Remus and a young girl on the same couch. Their home. She was raised in their home. She was just as beautiful as Remus described. Her dark curls bouncing around her as she smiles awkwardly at the camera, fidgeting with the bottom of her sweater. Remus was hugging her close, ruffling her curls with a laugh. As he does, she scrunches up her nose in the same way Remus did when he was displeased with something.

Sirius watched the photo with a small smile, running his fingers over Remus’s laughing face. Flipping it over, he sees the scrawled writing on the back, ‘Remus and Cyra’s Christmas, 1991.’

“Cyra..” He mummers, flipping it back over to look at the young girl. She really did look like them both. It may be merlin’s idea of a cruel joke, but he would take it.

Chapter Text

“And this is me and Mad-Eye.” Tonks whispered excitedly, showing Cyra pictures of her auror training. She pointed to a man with one eye, the other trapped in a strange goggle, spinning around. He looked scarred and angry. Tonks in the picture was doing bunny ears behind Mad-Eye’s head. In the portrait, he spun around and zapped her hand with his wand.

Cyra laughed as she watched Tonks wave her hand frantically in the photo, “He’s good at his job.” Tonks snickered, pulling out the next picture, “Yeah. He’s a bit kooky, if you ask me. CONSTANT VIGILENCE!”  Cyra jumped as Tonks shouted, laughter bubbling  out, “I-I’m sorry, what?”

“That’s what he’s always yelling! I couldn’t even go to the loo without him launching an attack on the stall!”

Tonk’s mother, Andromeda, came from the kitchen. She was fussing with her hair, wild dark brown curls frizzing out.

“For merlin’s sake.” She grumbled, trying to pull it back in a bun manually before giving up and shouting, “Ted! I can’t find my wand, and my hairs a mess! Do you know where it is?”

Ted Tonks stepped out from his study, holding a hairtie in his hand, “I’m coming, Dromeda dear.” Remus walked out after him, going over to the wall to look at the portraits on the wall. Andromeda was huffing, but relaxed when Ted placed his hands on her shoulders, holding still so he can braid her hair.

“I just need my wand..” She mutters beneath her breath.

“Some things are better than magic, my dear.” Ted replied dotingly, “If I let you use magic to fix your hair, then how would I get to enjoy touching your lovely hair?”

Tonks gagged at her parents, making Cyra laugh. Andromeda paid no attention to her daughter, looking like a flustered schoolgirl, “Oh, Ted..” As the couple had their moment, Remus stepped over to the girls, sitting next to his daughter as he addressed Tonks, “So Nym-“ At her glare, he corrected himself, “Tonks, how are you enjoying auror training.”

Her eyes lit up, beginning to ramble about her training with Alastor Moody. Remus tried to pay attention but his gaze kept drifting over to the couple again.  He wasn’t very close to Andromeda in school, her being around her sisters more than anyone else. He knew that Sirius adored her, she was the only cousin that remained in contact with him after he ran to the Potters.

Andromeda was in the same position as Sirius, banished from the Black family. He remembered Sirius comforting her after she was thrown out, he had never seen her look anything but proper and distinguished, it hurt to see the proud woman broken. But now, she had never looked happier. She lost her sisters and family, but she gained a family. A real one, with Ted.

Seeing her laughing and batting Ted’s away from the braid he put in her hair, he felt something familiar tugging at his chest. He had that. That used to be Sirius preening at his attention, begging him to brush his hair.

A small warm hand went over his, directing his attention away from the couple, and his gaze traveled to his pup. Cyra was looking at him worried, giving his hand a squeeze. He gave her a smile to ease her worry, “Sorry, my head is up in the air today.”

She gave a nod, looking over his face for a moment before turning away. Her instincts were getting sharper. Though he despised the curse that ailed them both, he did feel pride that she was getting stronger. She’ll be able to defend herself when she’s older, but for now he’ll protect his pup.

He picked up the girls whispering, hearing Tonks suggest, “Mum got the good wine, you want a glass?” Remus answered for Cyra, staring at the older girl disapprovingly, “She’s thirteen, Nymphadora.”

He watched the young woman’s hair turn from bubblegum pink to a deep red, upset by the use of her name.

“Oh come on, Mr. Lupin! Just a sip!”

“Absolutely not.” He remained firm.

Andromeda swatted the back of Tonk’s head, “She is a minor, don’t be a bad influence, young lady.” Tonk’s hair went white, quickly bowing her head in apology, “Sorry, mum..” Cyra sniffed the air, her stomach growling as she caught the scent of roast turkey.

“The food smells delicious, Mrs. Tonks.” Cyra changed the subject, smiling politely.

Andromeda smiled brightly at her, running a hand over Cyra’s curls, “Oh thank you dear, it should be ready soon, but I have some pigs in a blanket for us to snack on.” She went to reach into her pocket, but then remembered she didn’t have her wand, “Oh.. oh for merlin’s sake! Where is my wand!?”

Ted gave the others a knowing smile before taking out his wand, pointing it at the kitchen, “Accio wand.” A dark wand flew out of the kitchen and into his hand, him holding it out calmly to the frantic Andromeda, “Here, my dear.”

She took her wand with a satisfied sigh, “Oh thank you, dear.” She gave him a peck on the cheek before levitating the plate of food from the kitchen. When the plate neared Cyra, she took a few and placed them on a napkin.

As Andromeda basked happily in her work, Ted nudged her with a playful glint in his eye, “I thought you said you were going to learn cooking the muggle way. So why was your wand in the kitchen, dear?” His wife gave him an innocent smile, “I used the oven. That’s muggle, dear.”

The rest of the evening was full of laughter, and warmth. Remus cradled his glass of mulled wine, watching Cyra and Tonks near the tree, playing a game of exploding snap. He chuckled each time Cyra jumped from her cards exploding.

“They’re so adorable, aren’t they?” Andromeda chimed in from behind him. He didn’t turn around, his smile widening as he continued to watch, “They are. Cyra really loves Nymphadora, she looks at her like a big sister.”

She gave a humored chuckle, nudging him, “If my family didn’t have a tapestry of all the members, I’d swear they were related. Though my daughter barely looks like me these days, she looks more like her father with each passing year. I think that’s for the best.”

Remus took a sip from his glass, wincing at how strong the alcohol was, “I feel the same. Some days I see myself in her, other days..”

“I see it too.”

He felt a soft pat on his back, and he finally looked at her. She gave him a worried look, her gray eyes bearing into him, “How did it go?”

He knew this would come up eventually. Taking a swig from his glass, he managed out, “He’s wasting away in there. But..he spoke. He said my nickname. He was looking at me..” His hands tremble for a moment, “It went better than I expected. But it just left me with more questions.”

“Hm..” She turned her attention to the girls again, speaking low, “If it’s one thing I know, it’s that Black’s take betrayal very deeply. It’s forced into our heads, like dogs, trained to be loyal. Of course, for Sirius and I, we chose our loyalties to different people.”

He furrowed his brows, trying to understand, “What are you trying to say, Andromeda?”

“It’s simple.” She went back to the kitchen, her dress robes shifting around her elegantly as she poured herself a glass of wine, “I would rather die than betray my Ted. I would kill for Nymphadora.” Her cool gaze met his, lifting the glass delicately in her hand, “Do you truly think that Sirius would not do the same?”

It was then, he knew. Andromeda never said it to the Order, but even after all this time, she believed in Sirius. She knew something was wrong. As if the wool had been pulled over his eyes, he realized, he also believed.

When he remained silent, she took that as a cue to continue, swirling the dark wine around, “My question is, how did the last male heir of the Black’s go to Azkaban without a single trial? They deemed him incompetent to stand for trial, and one of my sources in the ministry told me he had a mental breakdown.”

He felt his stomach sink at that, Dumbledore never gave him that information. Andromeda shot him an amused smirk, “Now, all Blacks are a little mad, but that is with us from day one. What could he have seen for his mind to break, and why is no one letting him speak?”

It was then he remembered that Andromeda was a Slytherin. She was cunning, placing spies throughout the ministry and restraining information. She wasn’t done yet though, he saw the mad gleam twinkle in her eyes as she took a sip of her wine.

It was silent besides the distant laughter of the young girls. Andromeda’s gaze drifted for a moment before plucking up a napkin, dabbing her lips, “My final question..” She tossed it to the side, looking him straight in the eyes, sending chills down his spine, “Why did Albus Dumbledore try to impede the visit I secured for you?”

He nearly dropped his glass, staring at her in shock, “What did you just say?”

“Oh, no way!” Cyra cried out as she took a pair of crescent moon earrings, tiny jewels glinting off them in the light. Tonks clapped excitedly, “I was so hoping you’d love it!”

“I do!” She giggled, looking at them. It was then she remembered, she didn’t have pierced ears. As she looked back up at Tonks, she saw a glint in her eyes. Before she could speak, Tonks shoved the next present on her lap, “Next one! Open it! Open it!”

Cyra laughed before tearing open the paper, gasping as she saw the album, “Oh Tonks! Thank you!!!”  She hugged the older girl quickly, before showing her dad, “Look! It’s the new Queen Album, Innuendo! The Show Must Go On is on it!” Remus laughed as he looked at it, “Oh good, you can play it anytime you want.”

Andromeda nudged her presents over to the girls, “Mine next. Open them up.” Tonks tore into hers quickly, gasping in shock before looking up at her mother, “Oh, mum, this is.. perfect.” She took out a thigh wand holster, looking it over with wide eyes, “I was looking at this one in the shop on my outing with Moody.  I-It even has a disguising charm for undercover missions.”

Andromeda smiled down at her daughter, “I figured a master of disguise needs a holster that’ll work with them.” Tonks looked immensely grateful, her hair growing rapidly into dark brown curls, mirroring her mother. Remus saw the older woman wiping a happy tear from her eye, staring at her only child with nothing but love.

Cyra opened her gift carefully, taking out a book and reading the title. As she gasped, Remus grew curious what it was. She quickly opened the book and began flipping through, “I had no clue this even existed..” 

Andromeda had a knowing smile, watching her, “I have a friend at the bookshop who was holding on to it. Told them I knew a young lady who shows a bright future, and has a passion for magical creatures.” Cyra looked at her confused, wondering how she knew, before turning to her father, who was peeking at the book.

Remus’s eyebrows shot up to his hair, spinning around to Andromeda in shock, “There was an unpublished version?” She gave him a wink before motioning to Cyra, “Go ahead, tell us about it.” She quickly read the author’s note, “If you are reading this, then it either means the Ministry has released the ridiculous ban, or your drive for knowledge exceeds any authority that tries to stop you. This is the raw and unpublished version of my well-known book, ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them’. This is not the same material you are familiar with. There are many things that the Ministry of Magic would prefer to remain unknown, but imperfect understanding is often more dangerous than ignorance.”

Cyra’s eyes with twinkling with excitement as she breathed out the final line, “Signed, Newton Scamander..” She fiddled with the book in her hands, feeling over the leather. It looked like contraband, being wrapped in an inconspicuous cover. Any Hogwarts student would know the original publishing from a mile away, wrapped in an obnoxious red and gold. This was entirely different.

She ran her fingers over the old pages, before looking back up to the elegant woman, smiling brightly at her, “Thank you so much, Mrs. Tonks.” Andromeda smiled warmly, replying, “You are very welcome, dear.”

Remus felt comforted by the fact that Andromeda took such care to find Cyra’s present. He had mentioned before that Cyra seemed interested in magical creatures, and occasionally spoke about it to him. He didn’t expect for the woman to buy his daughter illegal contraband, but it was very sweet. He’d just have to be sure to remind Cyra to keep her book hidden from her classmates and teachers.

But for now, he would enjoy the excited glow she radiated, curling up beside Tonks as her eyes remained glued to the pages.

“That was so much fun!” Cyra exclaimed as they walked down the muggle street, practically bouncing on her heels, “I’m so excited for Tonks to become an a-“ She quickly remembered where she was, and changed her wording, “A copper?” Remus couldn’t hold back his snicker, looking down at her amused, “Police Officer.”

“Right, a Police Officer.” She repeated embarrassed, looking away to the muggle houses they passed. He nudged her lightly, “Don’t be embarrassed. It comes with being raised in our world. One time, Lily took us to a magic show, it blew our minds.” Cyra laughed at how incredulous Remus sounded, looking at him as he grew animated telling the story.

“And then James whispered to Sirius, ‘Oh this bloke really thinks he can pull a rabbit out of his hat, mad I tell you.’  So the magician shows us his hat, and then drops the ball in there. He reaches in, and we see his whole arm go in!”

Cyra’s eyes widened, “How’d he do that?” Remus laughed, “That’s what I was thinking! So this muggle man, he reached far in, and we were waiting with baited breath.” He puts his hand over his heart, grinning, “The first sight of fuzzy ears solidified it for us. James was so shocked, Lily had to close his jaw. After the show, both James and Sirius bugged the poor man to tell them how he did it.”

“Did he?”

“Nope, he refused to. He just said, ‘Magic.’ And went off to his dressing room.” He guided them to a more discreet place, “I still wonder to this day how he did it. But either way, going to the show and blending in with the muggles, we got to witness something that other wizards didn’t.”

Cyra took his hand, closing her eyes quickly. As she felt that familiar pull on her bellybutton, she held her breath. It felt like she was being pulled into a small tube and spat out the other side. She stumbled as they landed, holding on tightly to him.

“And those kinds of experiences are important.” She felt him tug on her hand, and blindly followed him as he continued talking, “I want you to have those experiences. To see what life is like for muggles, what incredible things they can do without our magic. It’s still in a way magic, but it’s theirs.”

Her stomach finally settled enough for her to open her eyes, and she was confused to see they were not heading towards the cabin, but instead down the London streets. Looking around, she asked softly, “What are we doing here?”

“Your first experience.” He turned a corner, heading confidently to their destination, “You got those earrings from Nymphadora, didn’t you? How are you going to wear them?” Realization hit her just as they reached the muggle piercing parlor.

“Are you serious?” She whispered in disbelief, “I-I get to get my ears pierced?”

Remus bent slightly at his knees so he could be on her level, placing his hand on her shoulder, “If you’re not ready, I understand. But I know you’ve wanted pierced ears like Tonks since you got that first bottle of black nail polish. You’re thirteen now, and you should be allowed to make the choice.”

She relaxed under his touch, looking at him with a grin, “Can I get the cool double piercings she has?” He gave her a surprised look before patting her shoulder, “Let’s see how you do with the first two.” He stood up straight and opened the door for them, walking inside confidently.

Inside the shop were a bunch of muggles decked out in tattoos and piercings, looking intimidating to the small girl. A woman with bright yellow hair approached her, two metal balls in her dimples when she smiled, “Well ello, my names Robin, how can I help you two?”

Remus held out his hand for her to shake, smiling politely, “Good evening, I’m Remus, and this is my daughter Cyra. We’re here to get her ears pierced.”

Cyra shuffled her feet awkwardly as the woman’s eyes went to her. Everyone here was so punk and cool, and they were dressed in tweed. How was her father so calm? He looked like a History Professor in this place, but he seemed so comfortable.

Remus placed his hand on her back and nudged her forward, “It’s her first time, so she’s a bit nervous.” She watched quietly as Robin prepared a clipboard, smiling warmly down at her, “Come with me, doll, we’ll get you seated.” Remus took the clipboard and clicked the pen, holding it awkwardly in his hands for a moment before beginning to write down Cyra’s information, following behind them.

Cyra sat down on the chair, leaning back slowly, “Is it gonna hurt?” Robin spared a glance  to Remus before turning back to Cyra, looking a bit unsure, “Umm, well, we’re going to be piercing your ear with a needle. So..”

At that accursed word, Cyra was prepared to bolt. Remus was already prepared, placing his hand on Cyra’s shoulder firmly, “It’s not the same needle you’re thinking of.” Robin seemed to catch on, and quickly took the girl’s attention, “Ah I see, scared of needles from the Doctor, aren’t ya?”

She fidgeted in the seat, feeling a bit embarrassed, “Yes ma’am..” Robin was understanding, moving over to her drawers to take out her album, “So am I. I secretly believe bedside nurses are sadists.” Cyra’s mind went to Madam Pomfrey, laughing softly, beginning to relax.

Remus released her shoulder, going back to filling out the papers. Once he was finished, he passed the clipboard back to Robin, “It asked about allergies.  I wrote about her allergy to peanuts, but she also has very sensitive skin. So perhaps something that’s hypoallergenic?”

Cyra’s brows furrow in confusion, having no clue what he was talking about. Robin looked over the clipboard for a moment before nodding, “That might be best, we have some surgical steel she can choose from.” With that, she was off to go grab them.

After a moment, Cyra quietly asked, “Am I about to have surgery?” Remus looked at her confused before realizing what she meant, “Oh, oh no, she’s just going to get you some earrings that won’t irritate your skin.”

That allowed Cyra to breathe, the rest of her muscles relaxing against the seat. When Robin returned, she slid a rolling tray over to Cyra’s chair, letting her see, “Alright, so we’ve got tons of different studs. I recommend something small, your freshly pierced ears are going to feel tender for a bit.”

Robin let her sift through them, prepping her station as she waited. Cyra finally decided upon a pair of steel puppy paws, holding them up carefully to Robin, “Can I do these?” The piercer looked them over before taking them, giving the girl a warm smile, “Those will look gorgeous on you.”

With that decided, Robin next brought out her album, flipping through the many different ear piercings she could get, “Let’s see, we have the traditional lobe piercing, tragus, helix…what are we going for?”

Cyra looked at the photos as she flipped through, deciding she didn’t want to directly copy Tonk’s piercing style. That was her unique thing. Humming, she pointed at the lobe piercing, “Can I have that?” Robin figured she’d go for that one, preparing to shut the book, “Traditional, sounds good.”

“U-Uhh.” Cyra hurried to point at the other photo, “And that?” Robin looked at it and felt very unsure, “Well, doll, cartilage piercings like the helix can hurt more. So maybe we should see how you do with the first one?” That was the same answer her father gave her.

Now she was beginning to worry. Was it actually going to hurt that much? Robin seemed to be in her own world, tying Cyra’s hair up in a bun before cleaning her lobes with a strong-smelling liquid. She tried not to scrunch up her nose at the scent, not wanting to offend the woman.

Remus caught it, giving her a comforting smile when she looked over. Robin took her marker and did two identical dots on the lobes, before holding out a mirror, “How do you feel about the placement?” Cyra stared at the dots, unsure what was going on, “It’s good?”

“Okay, perfect.” Robin took the mirror away and sanitized the area one more time. Once she had the needle in her hand, she instructed Cyra to take a deep breath and to count to ten.

This was it. It was happening. She took in a shaking breath and whispered out, “1..2...3..4-“ There was a sharp pain for a second, but then nothing. That couldn’t have been it. So she kept counting.

“5..6..7..”

Robin slid the first stud in, hurrying over to the other side, “Doing brilliant, love.”

“8..9..10..”

There was another sharp pain, and then it was once again, gone. Was that really it? Cyra’s eyes unclenched, and she turned to Robin curiously after the matching stud was slid into her lobe, “Did you do it?”

Robin gave an amused chuckle, putting the backing on the earring securely, “I did. You have quite a pain tolerance. Barely even flinched.” Cyra reached up to touch her ears, only to have her hands swatted away by the piercer, “Ah, ah, your hands aren’t clean. You need to wash them before touching your ears. Or else your piercing will get infected.”

“Oh..” Cyra quickly put her hands down, looking over at Remus with a nervous smile, “How do they look?” Remus saw the paw prints glinting in the light, his lips quirking up in a smile, “You look like a rockstar.” That seemed to please Cyra, who turned to Robin with twinkling eyes, “We can do the helix now!”

There was a shared glance between Robin and Remus, to which he nodded, giving his permission. At that, she hurried to get the surgical steel tray again, “Okay, let’s pick out something a bit simpler. Like maybe a ball stud?” Cyra nodded in agreement, pointing at a small ball in the tray, “I like that one.”

And so began the process again, disinfecting, dotting, and then the time for counting. Cyra seemed fully confident now, counting faster, “1, 2, 3, 4-“  The first needle came. It was the sight of her eyes welling up with tears that almost brought Moony out. Cyra’s confident smile was no longer there, her face scrunching in pain as the needle pushed deeper in her ear.

Robin caught the glare Remus was sending her, and quickly explained as she took the needle out, “L-Like I said, cartilage does hurt more. Because of how dense it is, you have to use more force.” She slid the stud in, and grabbed her cleaning solution.

Cyra quickly wiped her tears, holding still for Robin. Once the mirror was held out, she turned her head to the side, seeing the silver glinting in the shop lights. Her ears were very red, but she looked awesome.

“Like it?” Robin asked, watching the young girl admire her new jewelry. A quick glance to the girl’s father, she relaxed upon seeing he was no longer piercing her soul with his accusatory stare. Instead, he was watching his daughter with an adoring smile.

“I love it!” Cyra exclaimed. Robin put down the mirror and motioned to the other ear, “Do you want to do the other helix, to match?” At the girl’s widening eyes, she backpedaled, “Though I must say the mismatched look really suits you, totally a rocker style.” From the compliment the father gave her, she assumed the young girl must really like rock. She was right. Cyra seemed to light up at her words.

Satisfied that her young client was happy with her new piercings, she went to one of the drawers, “Right, so with each new piercing, we give out a little care kit. Just to be sure that they’re taking care of their new piercings.” She took out a kit, and gave it to Cyra, pointing at the products, “This is a saline solution, you’re going to use a q-tip and clean with this around your piercing. Don’t take out the jewelry. As you clean, you’re going to twist the earrings back and forth. Do this at least two times a day.  When you take a shower, make sure you dry your ears after.”

Robin tapped the little paper sheet in the kit, “This has the instructions I just told you. Put it up somewhere near your mirror so you remember. Also, your healing time is on the card for the specific piercings. Lobes take three weeks to heal before you can change out your jewelry, cartilage is eight weeks.” Cyra nodded along, trying to take in all the information.

When they got home, the first thing she did was rush to the bathroom, admiring her new jewelry. Remus placed his things on the table and sat down, letting out a loud yawn. He stretched himself out in his recliner, feeling his lower back crack, “Oof..” He relaxed into the seat, sighing, “I’m so old.”

“You’re not old, Papa.” Cyra replied from the bathroom, shutting the lights off and going into the den. He grabbed the lever in his armchair, cranking it back with a dramatic groan, “I’m going to need a walking stick soon.”

She went over to get the presents, teasing him, “I’ll be sure to get that for you next Christmas.” Remus chuckled, taking his from her, “If you do, get my initials on it. So, no one will ever dare to steal it.” He motioned to the box wrapped in Christmas cookie paper, “That ones yours, smaller than last year, but I hope you like it.”

Cyra got the box, placing it on the couch, before spinning back around to watch him open his. Feeling her eyes on him, he hurried to unwrap it. This was the first time that Cyra was able to go to Hogsmeade and buy for him. Most Christmases, she made him his favorite sweets, or when she was small, she’d draw him Christmas cards. It was the most precious thing.

As he opened the box, he saw some chocolate frogs, along with what smelled like freshly baked brownies in a small container. He quickly cracked open the container and broke off a piece of brownie, popping it in his mouth. As the dark rich flavor of chocolate coated his tongue, he hummed happily, “This is perfect, pup, thank you.”

“There’s more.” She replied, looking excited.

He looked back to the box to see she was right, there was more. Reaching in, he took out a few pairs of warm wool socks.

“You get cold a lot during these months. And all your warm socks have holes in them, so I bought you a couple to replace them.”

He was touched, hugging the socks close to his chest. Peering inside the box, he saw one more thing.  It was a thick knitted red jumper, with gold accents around the collar and sleeves. When he touched it, it felt warm in his hands.

As he took it out, Cyra explained, “It has a warming charm on it.” In the blink of an eye, Remus was out of his chair, going to the couch to hug her. She let out a giggle as he pulled her in to his chest, “Do you like it?” He was misty-eyed, hugging her tightly, “I love it. I love it so much.” He rests his chin on her head, sniffling, “I am so happy to have you as my child.”

Cyra felt herself get a little teary, burying her face in his chest, “I love you too, Papa.” Remus’s heart was aching, not of pain, but rather of love. He was so lucky to have such a caring kid, someone who knew he wouldn’t buy himself these things. Even before being a parent, he put others first, and didn’t have time to care about his own self.

He squeezed her one last time before moving back, trying to wipe his tears, “Go ahead and open mine.” She gave him a warm smile before picking up her present, ripping the paper carefully. Inside was a little black radio. She took it out, looking it over curiously, “Is this a wireless?”

“It is.” He pointed at the antenna, “You won’t get any muggle radio channels, because this is powered by magic, but you will be able to listen to all the wizarding stations.” As she stared at it in wonder, he took out a paper from the box, showing it to her, it was full of numbers, “I’ve already marked the stations that play muggle rock music, so you don’t have to go hunting for it. There aren’t many, sadly.” Cyra took the paper almost delicately, “So..what you’re telling me..” She raised the radio and looked at him, “I can play muggle music at Hogwarts? A-And it won’t break?”

Remus chuckled as he nodded to her question, “Yes, Cyra.  You can listen to music whenever you want, granted you should probably take your roommates into consider-“

“Oh, thank you, thank you Dad!” She put the radio carefully on the side before throwing her arms around him, hugging him tightly, “I love it so much!!!” Remus decided to leave the warnings for later, hugging her back, “I’m glad, pup.”

They decided to open the other gifts after getting some food. Remus went through their takeout menus, looking them over carefully, “Hmm.. we could get Italian.”  Cyra made a disgruntled noise, and he shot her a look, “What do you have against Italian?”

“Too much pasta.” Was her blunt answer.

He thought about it for a moment before realizing that he didn’t even want to eat pasta. She was right. It wasn’t the time for that. They needed something simple. Light bulb went off in his head, and he grabbed the menu for a small pizza place nearby, “How about some pizza?”

“Ooh!” Her eyes lit up at that, looking over to him, “Meatlovers, with hot wings!”

Now that sounded good. He snatched up the phone and began dialing, his stomach already beginning to growl. Once the food arrived, they sat in front of the television, watching the Batman movie. Cyra bit into her pizza slice, watching attentively as the Joker pulls out a gun on Bruce Wayne.

‘Tell me something, my friend, have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight??’

Cyra freezed in mid-chew as the gun went off, watching Bruce go down. Remus wiped his hands with a napkin, watching the screen curiously, “Jack Nicholson is a scary good actor.” She hummed in agreement, lifting the cup of pumpkin juice to her lips as she watched the movie.

They decided to wait to open presents when the movie finished, stuffing themselves on pizza and hot wings. Once it was over, they went to go wash their hands and clean up the den before getting the presents. Molly had sent them both hand-knitted jumpers, Remus’s being brown with a yellow ‘R’ and Cyra’s being orange with a white ‘C’.

He helped her open the one from Professor Snape, laughing as soon as he saw it, “Seems Snape knows about your potion switch.” Worried, she looks in the parcel, her eyes widening, “He got me a personal brewing kit? W-Why would he do that?” Remus nudged her with a teasing grin, “Maybe he’s telling you to brew your revenge on your own time and not his.”

She laughed lightly before looking at it once again, thinking of all the things she could make. Next present was from Professor McGonagall, a very thick blanket that held not only a warming charm, but also a charm to ensure it wouldn’t be snagged on anything. Cyra hugged the blanket close, smiling at the note attached, ‘You’ll catch your death in that shack, this will keep you warm during those nights.’

The last one from the Hogwarts Staff was Dumbledore’s, and Remus tried to keep his emotions at bay when it came time to open it. His conversation with Andromeda still haunted him. Why would Dumbledore try to keep anyone from seeing Sirius?

Cyra, oblivious to the turmoil in his head, tore into the parcel. Resting there was a pair of earmuffs and a note. Picking it up, she read it out loud, “Sleep is peaceful if not interrupted, allow these earmuffs to lull you into a calming rest, without the snoring of housemates disturbing your dreams.” She placed the earmuffs over her ears, hearing absolutely nothing outside. They must be charmed with something. Slipping them off, she smiled at the present, “Well that’s nice.”

Remus cleared his throat, going to get the presents her friends sent, “If your dorm is anything like mine was, it is rare to sleep in peace.” He placed the boxes next to her, “First one is from George, then the blue one is from Fred.”

She opened George’s present, smiling brightly as she saw all the chocolate fudge and bon-bons inside. He got her enough chocolate to last her at least a month. Opening Fred’s next, she expected to see the same thing, but he filled her box with sugar quills, with a note on top that said, ‘Come back soon, Happy Christmas.’

Remus shook his head amused, cleaning up the wrapping paper around them, “It’s been three days, an they’re already demanding you back.” She smiled down at the boxes, placing them carefully to the side, “I hope they like the presents I got them.”

He pushed two more over to her. She was confused on what they could be. Picking up the first one, she saw it was from Cedric. It was a small parcel filled some cauldron cakes and Honeyduke’s chocolate. He left a small note that said, ‘Don’t eat this all-in class, or I’ll have to switch Potion partners.’ She felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment, “I’m going to definitely eat them now, just because he told me I couldn’t.”

Finally, it was the last present. Cyra was unsure who it could be from, and looked at her father unsure. Remus motioned to it, relaxing her by saying, “Already checked them all for curses. It’s safe.” She took the parcel and carefully unwrapped it.

It took a moment to understand what she was holding. The preciousness of this gift. She held the t-shirt up like it was a trophy, “A Bon Jovi band tee!” Remus was presented with the muggle musician once more, posing dramatically on the front of the shirt. “Oh, that’s nice.” He responded, going over to the parcel, “Who sent you that?”

Reaching in, he took out a small paper, it looked like it was scribbled in pencil, “Thanks for the talk, enjoy the pretty boy. Signed, Sarah French.” Cyra hugged the shirt to her chest, smiling, “My housemate, I’ll be sure to thank her when I get back.”

“Sounds good,” He picked up the remaining paper and boxes, putting them away. Once he finished cleaning, he took a look at the clock, “Oh woah, it’s past your bedtime, pup.” Cyra went to complain, but he was already prepared, “Ah, ah, I don’t want to hear it. It’s nearly midnight, you need your rest.”

She pouted before gathering her things, “Fine, you win this one.” Remus went to hug her, kissing her gently on the top of her head, “Off to bed, pup.” She lets out a yawn, turning away quickly so she didn’t see his smug look, “Night, dad.”

“Happy Christmas.” He replied softly, watching her shuffle to her room. He waited a moment, and then heard her soft, “Happy Christmas, love you.” Then the soft click of her door.

As Cyra curled up in bed, she reached beneath her pillow, slipping out the picture she took the other day. For a while, she just laid there, watching her Papa and Sirius joking under the mistletoe. When Sirius looked back towards the camera, she whispered, “Happy Christmas, Sirius..” Before sliding it back beneath her pillow, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Harry had been having the best holidays of his life. He spent his Christmas with Ron, opening presents that he didn't expect to get. Every day was filled with wizarding chess, snow, and joyful fun. Excited for another day, he quickly hopped out of bed, and pulled on the warm sweater Mrs. Weasley had knitted for him. As Ron woke up and rubbed his eyes, he squinted over at Harry only to look embarrassed, “Sorry if it's a bit scratchy, mum knits them each year. Mine is always maroon.”

He didn’t mind. He had never gotten something so nice. It was in emerald green, to match his eyes. He grinned at Ron, “It’s really nice of her, I love it.” Ron seemed surprised, before he smiles back, “We can wear ours when we go to eat at the Great Hall. Even if we complain, it’s tradition to wear the sweaters for a couple days to show Mum our appreciation. So, all of my brothers will be wearing theirs still. Though Fred and George may switch just to mess around, and without Cyra around, it’s going to be harder to tell-“

“I would love that.” Harry cut him off, an excited gleam in his eyes. Ron relaxed, giving him a grateful look before climbing out of bed. Harry tried not to laugh when Ron cringed at the sight of the maroon sweater sitting on his chair.

Cyra rested on the couch, her new Weasley sweater adorned. This year, Mrs. Weasley decided to go with a royal blue. It was nice, very warm. She had her new book balanced on her stomach, resting against her thighs. Turning the page, her eyes lazily moved across the page.

Her dad was working his shift in the bookshop, instructing her to stay inside the cabin until he returned home. But that was boring. Her eyes were beginning to dry, and if she laid against the soft cushions any longer, she’ll fall asleep.

Shutting the book and setting it on the table, she sat herself up, stretching out her body with a groan. Growing pains were the bane of her existence. As if her bones shifting during transformations wasn’t enough, she had to deal with puberty too.

After bundling up, Cyra opened the closet to get out the axe. Might as well burn some energy by chopping up more wood for the fireplace. As she stepped outside, she felt her hearing prick at the sound of the snow crunching beneath her boot.

The outside came at once, every bird chirp and shifting of leaves had her attention. Sniffling at the cold air, she shut the door behind her and set out on a path in the woods. The snow was practically seven inches deep, but she ventured on without hesitation.

“Put it on already, Percy, we’re all wearing ours! Even Harry!” Fred scolded his older brother. Percy paled as he looked at the lumpy sweater hanging on his arm, “But we already wore it yesterday, mum isn’t even here!” He simply had no choice, as the identical brothers forced the sweater onto him, knocking his glasses off in the process.

George patted his shoulder roughly with a smirk, before going over to Ron, “You get yours on too, it’s cold out.” Ron groaned dramatically as he pulled his on, “Why does it always have to be maroon?” Harry giggled beside him, just happy to be a part of it.

Fred came beside him and patted him on the back, “Come on then, Harry. We’ve all got to eat together like a family.” Harry felt embarrassed as he stumbled with them, “O-Okay!”

She wondered what Fred and George were doing, feeling saddened that she couldn’t spend the holidays with them as well. She hoped that they’re taking care of Harry and Ron. Swinging swiftly, she let out a grunt as she brought the axe down on the fallen tree branch.

She watched it break apart, and tossed the axe to the side, grabbing the smaller portion and cracking it over her knee. Once she was happy with the amount of wood she gathered, she tied it all up and began trekking back to the cabin.

The wind blew all around, her curls lifting up in the air. As she blinked, she felt the snow falling down her cheeks. She hummed a song softly to herself, her eyes sweeping along the snow-covered forest. There was a small rabbit burrow along the larger roots of the tree she was passing.

Crack.

She stopped. Remaining perfectly still, she inhaled the winter air around her. Everything smelt the same, nothing in the air. She shifted her head slightly to the side, picking up some squirrel chittering. There was a hawk flying above her. Looking for prey? There wasn’t a smell of death in the air, so it wasn’t anything luring them.

One more second passed, and she continued on to her home. Her eyes glowed in the sunlight, looking almost golden. Her heart rate picked up, the feeling of being watched unsettling her. Something was there, she knew it. Everything in her screamed to run.

Her eyes were locked on the cabin door, her speed increasing. Just a few more steps. She was so close.

Crack!

He's on the left. The steps are heavier, she can hear his breath, he’s speeding up. Fight. She gritted her teeth, a growl bubbling in her chest. Fight.

“Stup-“

Her hand snatched the wand out of her hair with lightning speed, spinning around on her heel, shouting, “Lumos Maxima!” A bright light emitted from her wand, blinding her attacker. As his sight went white, adrenaline pumped through her as she continued to blast spells in his direction, “Expelliarmus!” She caught his wand and kept hers pointed at him threateningly, “Who are you?”

“J-Just let..”

“Who are you!?” She growled, holding her wand tightly in her grip. At the tip, sparks were flying off, like a sputtering candle. It felt hot in her hand.

“I-I was sent by the ministry.” The man stuttered out, holding his hands out in defeat, “I am just here for a-“

“Is it part of your protocol at the ministry to stun an underage witch?” She hissed. He flinched at her tone, “I-I am sorry for that. I am looking for a Remus Lupin? Maybe you might know where he is?”

She kept her eyes locked on him, breathing heavily, “He’s at work.  You’ll have to come back later. Preferably with a letter in advance.”

“Of course.. may I have my wand?” He holds his hand out to her, looking up as his sight finally returned. As his eyes took her in, she glared coldly. He offered a friendly smile, addressing her with a sugared tone, “Well you’re awfully young to be on your own, aren’t you?” Her nails dug into her palm, gripping her hot wand, “You’ll get your wand back after I go get my cousin. She’s an Auror, and she can confirm your identity.” A total bluff, but she knew something was off.

At the mention of an Auror, the man seemed to grow tense. “Miss, I promise I will be out of your hair as soon-“ He tried to convince her. She kept her wand raised, backing up to the cabin, “You’ll wait here. Move, and I’ll blow you into that tree.”

He kept his hands raised, his face scrunched up in worry, “Again, I am terribly sorry about this, miss. Truly. Can’t we just move on, forgive and let me go back to work?” She narrowed her eyes at him, holding onto the railing as she went up the stairs backwards. At the last step, she lost her footing, her hand losing grip of his wand as it grabbed onto the railing. The sound of it clacking down the wooden stairs caught the cowering wizard’s attention, his eyes shifting to its direction. She had no chance to get it. She needed to escape. Run.

She said nothing, keeping her eyes locked on the man as she backed into the doorway, grabbing onto the door. As she stepped in, she took a deep breath in, before she slammed the door shut. There was a shift in the snow, she locked the deadbolt. Spinning on her heel, she ran quickly through the den, grabbing hold of the floo powder container.

Crunch.

That sounded close. Too close. He has his wand.

“I TRIED TO REASON WITH YOU, BITCH. BOMBARDA!”

She screamed as the wall blew apart, debris flying in the air. Tossing the lid off, she grabbed a handful of powder, hurrying to the floo.

“Now how about we have that talk!?”

Cyra threw the powder down, whispering in a hurried breath, “Severus Snape's office.” As the green flames overtook her, she saw the shadow approaching on the floor before her. 

She shut her eyes tightly, holding her breath.  The air changed, and she threw herself out of the floo, screaming out, “Professor Snape!” She stumbled over to the desk, looking around in a panic. Why wasn’t he here? He was always here.

Letting out a shaking breath, she looked at the floo nervously. Whoever it was, they wouldn’t follow her to Hogwarts, would they? She inhaled sharply, wincing as she felt something tearing into her right hip. Glancing down, she saw a piece of wood lodged in her, her sweater stained with her blood.

“Oh..” She breathed out shakily, “Madam Pomfrey is going to kill me.”

She couldn’t stop panting, her eyes flying wildly around the office. She couldn’t just stay here. It wasn’t safe. She needed help. Gritting her teeth, she moved out of her lean against the desk, slowly making her way to the door.

She wondered how many scars she’d have before the new year. Grabbing hold of the handle, she pushed it open, grunting as she felt her skin tear from the movement. She was a big girl, she could do this.

“Oh honestly, if you’re going to mope about, do it somewhere else. You’re ruining my appetite.” Ron grumbled, taking a large bite out of his turkey leg. Harry looked at the twins curiously, seeing they were in fact moping, their faces crestfallen.

Earlier that morning, they seemed a lot chipper. One of the twins sighed, poking at his potatoes, “It’s just.. she’s not here.” His brother nodded, sighing deeply. Harry furrowed his brows for a moment, confused, “She?”

Ron sighed, nudging Harry’s shoulder, “They mean Cyra. She’s been gone for only four days, but they always do this. It’s a bit sad, really.”  He ignored his older brother’s glares, shrugging at them, “It is.” Harry offered the twins a smile, “I get it. Hogwarts doesn’t feel the same without Cyra. She makes it feel warmer.”

“She does. George has been having sleeping issues since her departure.” Fred admitted, his twin nudging him with a glare, “So have you.”

Percy sighed loudly, finally putting down the book he was trying to read. He looked annoyed, his brow twitching, “Oh honestly, why would you have sleeping problems? It’s not as if Cyra is your bunkmate. You aren’t seven anymore.” At that statement, George gave a dreamy sigh, “Oh, the good times.” Fred hummed, a smile growing on his lips, “She was so small. We were her protectors.”

Harry glanced at Percy for confirmation, the older brother shook his head, replying, “You didn't protect her! You tormented her the most. Remember who caused that cut on her lip?”

Fred narrowed his eyes at Percy, “You did!” Percy took offense, looking at Fred with a frown, “I did not mean to scare her! You two convinced her to steal Charlie’s wand, not me!” 

“She was having fun till you ruined it!” They retorted defiantly.

Ron groaned, looking at Harry apologetically, “Sorry about this, it’s so embarrassing.” He shook his head, offering Ron a smile, “No, I don’t mind at all. What’s this story about Cyra’s scar and stealing a Charlie’s wand?”

“Oh, well I don’t remember much because I was about five at the time, you see. But how I remember it-“

"You are not the shining knights you two think you are." Percy mocked.

"Oh sod off Percy, you wish you could save a maiden as lovely as our Cyra!"

Cyra groaned as she rested against the stone wall, listening out for any footsteps. “Seriously?” She complained, “How is there no one in these bloody halls?”

She savored the cool stone against her sore head, panting softly to herself, “Come on Cyra, you can do this.” As she shifted to move, the wood moved in her side, causing her to cry out. Her voice carried through the halls, and she listened until the echo disappeared.

“Great.” She said blankly. Pushing herself up, she cursed Snape in her head. Of all times to be missing. She felt bile rise in her throat as she walked, the wood digging deeper with each step. She hoped in the back of her mind that the attacker left before her father returned.

The halls were so empty, it was deafening. How was she going to get help before she bled out? Stumbling a couple steps more, she heard a familiar singing appear. Tone-deaf and painful for her ears. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She groaned, her head beginning to build pressure. Merlin must be laughing at her right now.

Moving over to a painting of a tea party, she meekly greeted the Fat Lady, who was sitting at the table alone, “Evening, Fat Lady..”  When the woman looked over, she looked angry for a moment before taking in her state. “Oh,” The Fat Lady gasped, “Oh you poor dear, what happened to you?”

Cyra managed a weak smile, “Guess it’s karma.” When the portrait didn’t laugh, she quickly blurted out, “Look I’m really sorry about snapping at you a couple days ago. And for calling you a shrill cow. But could you please find it in your heart to forgive me, and get a professor? Tell them the cabin was attacked.” 

“Of course, dear.” The Fat Lady cooed, looking her over worriedly, “Are you alright to be alone while I inform them?” The young girl leaned against the stones, giving a low thumbs up, her vision beginning to get blurry.

Was this her karma? She had left the cabin when her dad specifically told her not to. He wouldn’t done that if he hadn’t thought something was out there. How could she have been so stupid? She’s gotten reckless. A soft smile formed on her lips, muttering, “I wonder who was the influence.” She missed Fred and George.

The castle was spinning, the stone floor shifting around her. Why was her head so heavy? The floor shifted again, flying towards her face. She felt a pain through her side, and decided sleep was better than dealing with the pain.

Minerva and Severus walked together to the Great Hall, conversing together. “I think,” She began, “If Longbottom applies himself more, he could be a brilliant wizard like Frank.” At that, Severus sneered, “The boy trembles at the sight of a mouse. I doubt he’ll be an Auror in the future.”

She gave a warning look, “I do hope I won’t hear of any unfair treatment of my cubs.” He looked down his nose at her, “So long as your cubs keep their paws away from my snakes.” They shared a look, before Minerva slyly responded, “Such a shame you can’t protect your snakes on the quidditch field.”

His lips quirked, “Oh contraire, it will be your-“

“INJURED STUDENT! HURRY PROFESSORS!” The Fat Lady shouted, running through the portraits, trying to get their attention. Minerva approached the painting she was in, asking worried, “Which student, do you know?” The Fat Lady looked devastated, her face grim as she replies, “Ms. Lupin.”

Both Severus and Minerva paled at the name. Severus stepped forward, stern as he demands answers, “Where is she?”

“DUNGEONS! Poor thing stumbled out of your office!” She motioned for them to follow her, rushing back. They bustled after her. Severus’s eyes were dark as he continued to question her, his steps firm as they hurried, “What happened?”

The Fat Lady shuffled through a crowd in the painting, calling out, “She said the cabin was attacked!” Minerva gasped in horror, breaking into what was almost a run, “Oh that poor thing! Was Remus with her?”

“No, Professor, she’s alone.”

Severus took his wand out, his eyes narrowing, “She must have escaped through the floo.”  Following his lead, Minerva kept her wand by her side, her face wrinkled with worry, “How could this happen?”

“My question is,” He hissed, poison dripping from his words, “How did the Lupin’s location become compromised?”

At that realization, Minerva’s firmed her expression, her grip tightening around her wand. When they neared the dungeons, they saw the sight of a slumped figure. Minerva let out a shuddering gasp as she saw the pool of blood forming on the stone. Severus was quick, kneeling down and tapping his wand on the girl’s head, “Rennervate.”

Cyra’s eyes shot open, quickly squinting at the bright lights. Everything hurt. Severus held her, speaking calmly, “Do not rest, Ms. Lupin, you could have a concussion.” She groans, leaning her head on his shoulder, “Thank you..” Her words slurred, her eyes drooping, though she seemed to be fighting it.

They levitate her so they didn’t shift her body and cause worse pain for her. When she was lowered onto a cot, she heard a raised voice, “WHAT IS THIS!?” As she neared, Cyra held her free hand out to the blurry figure, “Please don’t be mad at me..”

Madam Pomfrey took her hand, looking over her body with worry, “How did this happen?” The young girl squeezed the hand in hers weakly, slurring, “Please don’t tell Pomfrey, she’ll skin me alive.”  That alerted the nurse, who quickly held open Cyra’s eyes to look at her pupils, “Minerva, get me the blood replenishing potions from the cabinets!”

As Severus stood by Cyra’s side, he noticed she was still gripping her wand. When he touched her fist, she jerked away. “It’s alright, it’s just me.” He tried to comfort her, but he could see how tense she was. “You’re going to break your wand if you keep gripping it like that, I’ll just put it by your bedside.”

He watched as she slowly relaxed, and he carefully grasped the top of the wand, only to jerk back with a hiss. Her wand was scalding hot, it felt like pure fire. Checking his hand, he saw blistering from where he grabbed it. What in the merlin was happening?

Cyra was finally allowed to rest after her head was healed. Madam Pomfrey gave her a sleep potion, since she wouldn’t want to be awake while they take the chunk of wood out of her. Thankfully these injuries, while painful, were easy to heal.

Minerva hurried to contact Remus, notifying him of Cyra’s location and opened her floo for him. Within a half hour, he had come barreling through, not even greeting her as he tore off towards the infirmary. She didn’t take note of it, hurrying after him. She would have to later inform Dumbledore of the situation.

Madam Pomfrey didn’t leave the girl’s side, staying beside her and watching as she slept. When Remus came in, she stood up, giving up her seat to him. He was quick to replace her spot, taking hold of Cyra’s hand, “How did this happen? She was supposed to be safe there.”

She allowed him a moment to take his daughter in, watching her chest rise with each breath until he was sure she wouldn’t drop dead. “Some of the wood from the cabin punctured her side, along with some of the debris hitting her head pretty hard. She must have been running on pure adrenaline, cause the wood in her side would be shifting with each movement.”

Remus let out a shaking breath, “I just saw her this morning, h-how..” Madam Pomfrey felt her heart break for him, it must be hard to see your child injured so often. “She was attacked.” She said firmly, “She managed to tell the Fat Lady before she fainted. She did not go down without a fight, Remus.” His sight blurred with tears.

He nodded, bowing his head, “I know. But she shouldn’t have had to.” His voice turned cold, “She’s thirteen, Pomfrey.” She released his shoulder, sighing deeply, “Remus, I understand, better than most. I remember when you were the one on the cot.”

Minerva stayed off to the side, feeling her heart ache for Remus, her own anger boiling at the sight of the wounded child. Hearing steps approach, she turned her head to see Severus entering, his hand appearing to be healed. Once he stopped beside her, she whispered, “Have you notified Albus?” His dark eyes remained trained on the unconscious teenager, speaking lowly, “Not yet. I predicted Lupin would need to calm down before Albus shows his face.”

“But how could he have known this would happen?” She questioned, to which the Slytherin Head remained silent. Remus reached over, brushing some hair from her face, sighing softly. When the doors to the Hospital Wing opened, it caused all the adults to stiffen.

The doors opened slowly, revealing Albus Dumbledore, a grim look on his face as he entered, “Terrible news this holiday.” He passed by the Professors, approaching the cot. A low growl formed in Remus’s chest, but he restrained himself, clenching his jaw.

“I am so sorry to hear of this incident, Remus. I’ve already notified the ministry, they’re sending aurors over to get her statement.” Albus attempted to comfort Remus, but the younger man was having none of it, glaring up at him, “How did this happen? The cabin was an undisclosed location.”

The elder wizard hesitated, retreating his outstretched hand, “Ah..yes..I understand your anger.” He looked down at the sleeping child, sighing sadly, “I have failed you Remus. The wards I made myself, broken. Whoever this was, they knew what they were doing.”

There was a tense silence, before he hurried to finish, “But be assured, I will not rest until we find out who did this and bring them to justice.” He looks to Cyra’s clenched hand, and goes to reach for her wand.

“Don’t.” Severus intervened, stepping forward, “Her magic is on the defense. I don’t have enough healing salve to fix everyone’s hands.”

“Hm.” Albus made a noise of interest, looking over her wand to see the tip firing off small sparks, “Interesting. Professor Quirrell had reported she wasn’t doing well in Defense, but perhaps it is unwise to dismiss her just yet.” Remus worried for a moment that the sparks would fall on the sheets and cause an accidental fire, but when they fell against the fabric, they went out.

Looking towards Madam Pomfrey, Albus questioned her, “Will it be alright to wake her when the Aurors arrive?” The matron huffed, going over her supply, “I don’t feel right about it, the poor thing deserves rest.” He awaited her answer, she scrunched her face in before saying, “But she can be woken when they arrive. Until then, I don’t want to see her moved an inch.”

They did as she instructed, remaining quiet until the enforcement arrived. When the doors opened, Albus stood to greet them, “Ah, Kingsley, good to see an old friend!” The wizard gave a deep chuckle, patting the headmaster on his shoulder, “Greetings to you, Albus. Though I wish it was under better circumstances.”

Kingsley motioned to the pale wizard next to him, “This is Proudfoot, he’s training under me.” Proudfoot gave a friendly wave, “Ello, all.” They did not wave back. Kingsley cleared his throat, straightening his posture, “Right, may we see the young student?”

“Her name is Cyra.” Remus interjected, looking at his old classmate, “She’s my daughter.” Kingsley’s expression fell as realization struck, “Oh, Remus, my apologies.” Once Remus nodded, he walked over to the bedside, “Madam, if you don’t mind waking her.”

They all watched as Pomfrey held a vial to Cyra’s lips, pouring the contents in. She tilted the girls head so she would swallow. After a moment, her lashes began to flutter, slowly opening,  “Mmph..” She squinted at the bright light, raising her free hand weakly to block her eyes, “Ow..”

“Ms. Lupin, can you hear me?” Kingsley spoke slowly, not wishing to startle her. Cyra’s face scrunched up as she managed out, “Yes..who are you?” Her voice was croaky, she heard hurried footsteps.  Soon a glass of water was pressed to her lips, and she drank greedily. She was so thirsty.

“I am Kingsley Shacklebolt, I am an Auror. I am here to help find the man that did this to you.” He responded, summoning a chair to himself so he could take a seat, “Do you mind telling me what happened?”

Madam Pomfrey pulled the curtains over the window, making the room a bit darker for the teenager. No longer squinting, Cyra took in the room of adults slowly, “Yeah.. I can do that..” She saw her Dad beside her, and she let out a relieved sigh, “Oh you’re okay.”

Remus gave a weak chuckle, reaching out to stroke her hair, “I’m okay? You’re the one in a hospital cot. At this rate, you’re going to get a plaque.” She managed a small laugh before turning to the Auror, her expression turning serious.

“I went outside to get some firewood. Everything was normal.” She fiddled with the sheets with her free hand, “I know the woods fairly well, so I didn’t feel worried. But then, I started to feel watched. I tried to act normal, make my way back home. He was fast. Next thing I knew, he was behind me.” Her wand shot off a spark, but she paid no attention, “I-I couldn’t smell him. It’s like..he was cloaking himself. But I heard him.”

The ones who were aware of her condition were alerted by the fact she couldn’t smell him. No witch or wizard would cover their scent unless they knew they were dealing with a creature with enhanced senses. That meant he knew exactly who Cyra was, and what she was.

“He was about to stun me.” She continued, looking at the wall as she remembered the incident, “I-I blinded him and took his wand.” Kingsley nodded, paying close attention to her, “That’s very quick thinking, Ms. Lupin.”

“Thank you,” She said politely, “He did not tell me his name, but he said he was from the Ministry.” Kingsley’s lips firmed for a moment, but remained silent. It was obvious this was a targeted attack. But to a child?

“I didn’t believe him. I lied and said Tonks was an auror, and I would get her to confirm his identity.” Knowing who she was speaking about, Kingsley and Proudfoot had a quiet chuckle. “Quick thinking.” Proudfoot offered.

“He was too nervous at her mention. I walked backwards to the cabin, but then I tripped and I dropped his wand.” She grimaced as she remembered her mistake, “So I ran quickly inside, I locked the door. I ran to the floo, and next thing I know..” She trailed off for a moment, her body tensing.

“Take your time, Ms. Lupin.”

She swallowed slowly, her wand heating up in her hand again, “He was screaming, he called me a bitch. Then, he blew up the wall. I threw myself in the floo and hurried to Professor Snape’s office. He didn’t follow me.”

Kingsley let out the breath he was holding, “I admire you for your courage, Ms. Lupin. You acted faster than most witches your age would.” He held his wand out so she could see, “Do you mind if we extract the memory of the attack, so we can identify him?”

She looked over his wand carefully before giving a slow nod, closing her eyes, “Go ahead.”  He held his wand to her temple, instructing her softly, “Think of his face, his voice. Give us a clear image.” Her brows creased in concentration, her wand sparking off again in her hand. Kingsley gave it a worried glance before returning his attention to the silver strand he was drawing out.

She winced at the feeling, grunting softly as she continues to replay the memory over and over again in her mind. Proudfoot took out a vial, holding it out as Kingsley guided the long silver strand inside. Once it was complete, she opened her eyes again, asking, “What’s gonna happen to our home?”

Remus winced, knowing she wasn’t going to like the answer. Kingsley delivered the bad news for him, stating, “It’s been compromised. It is no longer safe for you. You will need to relocate.” She stared at him in shock, before turning slowly to Remus, her eyes wide, “But that’s..your home..”

He quickly took her hand, squeezing it, “My home is where you are. I’ll find us somewhere else to stay, I promise.” She fought back tears, feeling like this was her fault. Kingsley stood from his seat, nudging Proudfoot back, “We’ll be off then. I’ll keep you updated through letters, Remus.”

Her father nodded at him, before he began attempting to soothe her, speaking softly, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay.” She closed her eyes, feeling his hand run through her curls. She listened to the retreating footsteps. When she could no longer sense the Aurors, she opened her eyes and said softly, “He covered his scent.”

Severus stepped forward, speaking calmly, “You said you couldn’t smell him at all? Did you pick up anything underlining? His breath?”  She shook her head, remembering it clearly, “Not even his breath. He must have taken a potion.”

He went silent before a thought struck him, “Redolence Solution. Makes the drinker scentless, for a timeframe of thirty minutes.” He replied, “Commonly used by dragon tamers when the dragon is considered hostile.”

Minerva stepped forward, staring at Cyra with worry, “Are you quite alright, dear? That must have been dreadful.” The teenager nodded, looking down at her wand hand, seeing it lit up, “Oh.. that started when he attacked me. It felt hot, but not enough to burn my hand.” Severus made a noise, and Minerva resisted the laugh that tried to escape, “Yes, my dear, that’s your magic. Your wand is reacting to your magical core, which I imagine won’t calm down until you do.”

Cyra attempted to relax, but it was no use. She still felt on the edge. As the silence lingered, Albus took a moment to step forward, his eyes twinkling, “Ms. Lupin,  I do find it curious that you went to Professor Snape’s office. You’ve always traveled to Hogwarts through the Headmaster’s Office.”

She looked at him confused before realizing that what he said was true, and she wondered about her own decision process, “Well.. it was the first thing that came to mind. I just needed to get somewhere safe.” Remus noticed how Severus seemed to look surprised at the idea that Cyra considered him safe.

Albus patted the footrest of the cot, offering Cyra a comforting smile, “A smart move, indeed, Ms. Lupin. But do know that my office is always welcome to those in need, including you.” She gave him a thankful smile, nodding softly, "Thank you, Headmaster."

At that, he excused himself, “I’ve heard they’re serving chocolate pudding, I simply can’t miss it.” As soon as he was gone, Remus saw Cyra’s hand begin to unclench around the wand. Minerva stood beside Severus, her lips tight as she thought to herself. Something was bugging her, and she really hoped it didn't mean anything.

After a moment, she finally broke and asked Severus, “How did Albus know Cyra was here? You said you didn’t alert him.” To that, Severus cast her a dark look, “I didn’t.”

Chapter Text

Cyra stared pitifully at the infirmary curtains, wanting nothing more than to escape. It wasn't prison, but it sure felt like it. Wincing as she felt the cloth around her suddenly tighten, "Ah." She grunted in pain, "Pretty sure I just felt my spleen move into my large intestine."

"That means it's working." Pomfrey retorted, before loosening it slightly, "There, now quit your whining." The teenager huffed, putting her gown down now that the bandages were secured. She turned to the nurse, giving her best sweet smile, "Madam Pomfrey, could you oh so dearly allow me to wash my ha-"

"No. You could tear your side." Her response was short and clipped, making Cyra retreat. The older witch shot the girl a look, "You will just have to deal with cleaning charms for now dear." At that, she tapped her wand on the very top of Cyra's head, a silver light traveling over the hair. Frizzy curls grew a shine, yet her expression remained sour.

"There. All clean." Pomfrey shut down the conversation, exiting through the curtains. Once she was sure Madam Pomfrey was gone, she let out a dramatic sigh, muttering low, "No guests, no showers, no going outside, no fun." Looking at her bedside table, she felt herself growing antsy.

Two nights spent in the infirmary, and she felt like climbing the walls. Her only company was a mad matron who shrieked the moment she put a foot out of bed. The one thing Cyra absolutely despised, doing nothing.

"Bloody…nothing.." She whispers to herself, looking out the crack of her curtains. She could see Madam Pomfrey flitting back and forth, trying to get her restock straight before the students all returned. That witch was not going anywhere. Neither was she if she didn't think of something.

Looking around her small little area, she locked on to her clothing folded on the chair. McGonagall had brought her a pair of the clothes that got sent by her father. Whenever she was declared to leave, she could get dressed in some comfortable clothes.

But Cyra didn't plan on waiting. Slipping her hand under her pillow, she took out her wand, holding it low so Pomfrey wouldn't see. She waited until Madam Pomfrey went into the backroom. When the door shut, she slid out of the bed, cracking the curtains open a bit.

No sight of Pomfrey, but that didn't mean she could make a clean break. She'd be tied down to the cot before she could even reach the doors. She needed a distraction. Looking around the infirmary, a mischievous twinkle entered her eye.

"Accio Towels.."

Tucked in her sheets, Cyra lazily doodled on some parchment. Hearing the office door open, her lips quirk up.

"Oh! I hadn't noticed this spilled..."

There were some quick steps, and then an annoyed sigh, "Where's all my cloths?" There was a moment of silence, before hurried steps came towards her area. Cyra quickly looked down at her paper, scribbling a heart quickly.

The curtains pulled apart, Madam Pomfrey narrowed eyes peering down at her, "I have to run to get cloth, don't you take a step until I return." She gave the nurse a nervous smile, "Understood ma'am. You can trust me." Not.

"Mm-hm."

The curtains shut back. She continued to sketch on the parchment. Retreating footsteps towards the doors, before she heard Pomfrey inhale for a moment. She began to get nervous. Did she know?

"Lupin, when I get back, you better be here." This was a warning. She knew.

Cyra drew a cat on the page, replying sweetly, "Of course, Madam Pomfrey. I'll be right here."

The doors shut, but she didn't move yet. Closing her eyes, she listened to Pomfrey's steps. When they reached the turn near the sleeping knights' portrait, she whispered, "Showtime."

As if hit by a burst of energy, she threw herself out of the bed, throwing off the gown and snatching up her jeans. It was a struggle to get her shirt on, a painful struggle, but she dealt with it.

Once she was dressed, she shoved her things in her bookbag, throwing it onto her shoulder and running off. She had no shoes. She did not care. Slipping out through the Infirmary doors, she inhaled the air of the castle. Freedom.

She knew exactly where she was going.

"Thank you for agreeing to my request, Sybill, I just need to run get some things." Pomfrey spoke out of breath, rushing back to the infirmary, "Normally I wouldn't ask these things of you. But-"

"No no, no need to worry my dear. I've seen it in the stars." Trelawney whispered, placing her hand on Pomfrey's shoulder, "That's how I knew to be here for you. I've come to assist in watching the little one."

Pomfrey gave the witch a strained smile, turning the knobs on her doors, stepping in, "Lupin! Professor Trelawney will be sitting in with you until I return." She waited on a reply, "Lupin?"

Still nothing.

Trelawney stepped forward, tilting her head at the closed curtains, "Hm, perhaps she might be sleeping?"

Pomfrey tried not to roll her eyes as she hurried over to the bedside, pushing open the curtains. Under the sheets was a lumpy form that seemed Cyra-shaped. Snatching up the sheet, Pomfrey gasped in outrage as she saw all the towels she had been missing, "Oh you little trickster!"

"Oh my.." Trelawney stepped closer to the bed, "She must have escaped."

"Didn't see that in the stars, Sybill?"

"Yes..how strange."

Sticking close to the stone walls, Cyra walked confidently through the halls. The holidays weren't over, so students won't have returned. It was empty. Just like when she arrived. At the thought of the incident, she felt a cold chill go through her body. She didn't really want to think about it very much.

She wasn't avoiding anything. Definitely not. Oh, look, she had arrived at the Gryffindor Tower. Trying not to grimace at the pitying look on the Fat Lady's face.

"Hello, dear. You are doing well, yes?"

Cyra managed a smile, "Right as rain, madam. May I be allowed inside?"

"Oh, of course, go right in."

Well, that's not what she was expecting, but she'd take it. As the portrait cracked open, she stepped carefully inside.

"This is getting ridiculous. You two are ruining my appetite!" Ron was grumbling from his place in front of the fire, half a licorice wand in his mouth. Harry looked over to Cyra, and his eyes lit up with joy, a grin forming.

She stepped up to the couch, placing a finger over her lips to tell Harry to stay quiet. He understood.

"Go take you and your trough elsewhere then!" George shot back in a sharp tone. Fred grabbed ahold of his shoulder, "Easy George. He's just being a lil snot."

Ron scoffed, "I'm not a snot. You two are just crybabies."

As he looked away from his brothers, his gaze caught the figure behind them.

"No one's crying." George snipped back.

"Who's crying?" A soft voice asked behind him. He spun around with a glare, "I SAID- Cyra." His voice cracked as he took in her appearance. At the sound of her name, Fred leaped up to his feet, spinning comedically to her, "Cyra!?"

Cyra laughed, opening her arms open, "Boys!"

The younger boys watched the teenage twins practically throw themselves over the couch to get to her, taking her into their arms at lightning speed. Cyra held onto them, laughing harder, "I missed you too." She winced as Fred gave a tighter squeeze, but he noticed and loosened his grip quickly. She avoided the worrying stare he gave her, patting their backs, "Yes, yes, let me see my other boys now."

As soon as she stepped out of their grip, Harry was up and hugging her tightly. Ron wasn't far behind, joining the hug, "Glad you're back, the twins have been depressed since you left." She rustled his red locks, giggling, "Is that so?"

"He's overreacting." George retorted.

"Lying too, we were fine." Fred added.

"Missed you though."

"Terribly."

Cyra turned to them with a knowing smile, "I'm glad. Since you missed me so much, wanna help me out with something?" Fred stepped to her, a knowing look in his eyes, "Is this about.." He dropped his gaze to her side for a moment.

"Mmhm. I'll tell you all about it." She replied cheerfully, not wanting the younger ones to catch on. "But." She continued, reaching into her jean pocket, "I actually had a late Christmas present for you, Harry."

"For me?" Harry repeated confused.

"Yes, for you." She placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him over to the fireplace for a bit of privacy, "Remember what I said about our fathers being friends?"

He nodded, watching her unfold the paper in her hands.

"I found this in a box with old pictures. Asked my Papa if you could have it, which of course he said yes."

He took the picture from her, watching his parents hold him between them. They both looked so happy. He looked happy. Sniffling softly, he looked up at Cyra with a smile, "Thank you." She patted his head softly, smiling back, "Happy late Christmas, Harry."

At that, she stepped away, going to the twin brothers. Fred finished whispering something in George's ear as she reached them. She didn't have to wonder what it was, seeing George's gaze drop to her side, the worried expression forming. She ignored it, brushing past them with a cheerful smile, "Right then, we'll be off. I'll be sure to return them before bedtime."

"No pressure. Keep them." Ron replied. He didn't miss his older brother's glares as they disappeared out the common room.

There was a silence amongst the trio. She knew they were waiting on her to speak. Leading them in the halls, she spoke with a cheerful tone, "Do you two mind helping me wash my hair? I feel like I'm going to claw my scalp off if I don't. Cleaning charms just aren't.."

"Cyra." Fred said her name, his tone giving away his worry.

She didn't glance back, slowing down so she fell in step with them. "George, what's your favorite quote again?" He looked at her confused but waited for her to continue. She kept her gaze forward, speaking softly, "The King in the castle has ears in the halls, dirtied hands in the court, and eyes on us all?"

"You got it." George replied, putting on his signature smirk and beginning to relax his shoulders. Fred looked at them both in confusion, his brows furrowed deeply. George looked at him, his smirk falling for a moment as he said, "Wearing your white socks today?" There was a moment of realization. Then within a second, Fred was relaxed, grinning, "Actually, they're periwinkle."

Nothing seemed off as they passed the few stray students that stayed. When they arrived, Cyra went over to the barrels, tapping on one in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff'. The lid slid open, and she turned to them, "Follow me."

Once they were inside, she let them look around. Fred and George hadn't had a chance to see her common room yet. George glanced back at the door closing, "What happens if someone gets it wrong?"

Cyra ran her hands over a large palm leaf, "They get doused in vinegar and are blocked entry."

"Brilliant."

"So how's this going to work?" Fred finally asked after minutes passed of them watching Cyra take out products and organize them. George picked up a brush from the sink, looking at it strangely, "You girls have so much stuff. How do you keep up with it?"

"We use drawers and bags." She replied, grabbing onto the tub to help her get up, gasping as she felt her side sting.

"So are we going to talk about it?" Fred asked. George approached Cyra carefully, looking at her with a worried stare, "Is the King still listening?" She shot him a smile, shaking her head, "No, or at least, I don't think so." She went to get a towel, "Thank you for understanding me, George."

"Of course." He replied cockily, "We didn't spend years making codes for nothing. Now, who was listening to us?"

She hesitated for a moment, glancing around the bathroom. There couldn't be any way he'd hear her in the girl's showers, right? That would just be creepy. Going over to the doors, she locked them, just in case.

Turning around, she stared at them both seriously, "I was attacked at the cabin." The brush in George's hand dropped with a clatter on the tiled floors. Fred was by her first, his hand reaching out to the bottom of her shirt before pausing in mid-air.

She gave him a look before reaching down, picking up the shirt enough for them to see her bandages, "I got away, but a piece of wood got me." Fred reached down, running his hand over the stained area, "You're bleeding still."

"Yeah, I'm technically not supposed to be out of the Hospital Wing yet." Cyra admitted weakly, dropping her shirt, "But I just couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to see you guys."

"How long have you been in the Hospital Wing?" George asked softly.

"Two nights."

"Why didn't anyone tell us?"

Cyra brushed past them, going over to the tub to turn on the water, "The King in the Castle.." She watched the steam rise, furrowing her brows, "I'll sound crazy if I say it."

Fred picked up the shampoo bottle, motioning for Cyra to lie back against the tub, "Think you'll sound like a loony Lupin?" She could resist a giggle, sitting down on the tile floor before leaning back against the porcelain tub, "I guess."

George grabbed handfuls of her curls, guiding them into the water filling the tub. As he watched the dark curls submerge, he whispered, "You know you can tell us anything." She stared up at the ceiling of the bathroom, her eyes catching the twinkling lights, "I know.." After a moment, she took in a deep breath, closing her eyes, "I think Dumbledore sent someone to attack me."

The twin brothers shared a surprised glance, before going back to what they were doing. Fred lathered the shampoo in his hands, before carefully applying it to Cyra's scalp, "If only we had snacks for this story." She hummed, her lashes fluttering softly against her cheek, "The other night, Professor Snape pulled my Papa to the side. He gave him this strange warning about wards and being careful who sets them."

George picked up the cup she placed to the side, filling it up with water, "We've heard a bit about wards, Bill knows a lot more though." Fred continued, "Being a curse-breaker, he has to know how to set wards and break them. Depending on the situation." Once he was sure Cyra's hair was properly lathered, he moved away so George could rinse out the bubbles.

"Hmm…" Cyra replied softly, almost sounding asleep. George tried not to laugh as he poured the cup on her head, "Weird that Snape would be worried about that. Who set the wards on the cabin?"

"Hm.." Her nose scrunched for a moment as she tried to stay awake, "Dumbledore did."

George paused, glancing at Fred, who was equally shocked. Filling the cup again, he poured it over the curls, "Then there might be something to your suspicions, Cy." Fred nodded, picking up another bottle, "Hate to say it, but Snape may be right."

"Doesn't matter now." Cyra replied, sounding more awake. As she opened her eyes, they could see the forming tears, "My home's gone."

George reached out to her hair, gently massaging her scalp like Fred did, "Shhh, it's gonna be okay, Cy." Her chest hitched as if she was holding back a sob, her eyes closing quickly. He continued to massage her scalp, hoping it would help her relax. Fred took the cup and finished rinsing out the rest.

Soon, her hair was finally clean. With her instructions, they squeezed out the water with a towel, being careful not to rub it roughly. George asked her to teach him how to brush her hair, so she did. Once he was sure of what to do, he had her sit down in front of him. Taking what she called a tooth comb, strange name, he worked it through her hair.

As he detangled her hair, tears fell down her cheeks. Fred sat in front of her, holding a cloth in his right hand. Each time a tear fell, he would wipe it away.

After some time, the tears stopped coming, and Cyra felt a weight lift off her chest. She felt like she could finally breathe. She relaxed into George's soft touch, feeling the comb slide through her curls with ease.

"Y'know, Fred and I used to think fairies made your hair." George said softly, picking up another curl in his hand to work on. Laughing in disbelief, she cracked an eye open to see Fred flushed, "Is this true?" He gave a one-sided shrug, looking at the ringlets that fell over her eyes, "Mum told us when we were younger that others had curls because fairies liked to play with their hair when they were babes."

George snickered behind her, "Of course, she said that about Percy. We knew it was a lot of codswallop."

"But then we met you." Fred continued, reaching out to touch a strand, "And we thought, 'A girl like her, she's definitely a fairies favorite.'" Cyra's cheeks began to warm, feeling a strange flutter inside her stomach, "That's so sweet..."

"I think you'll find we're always sweet-"

"-Ouch!"

"Sorry, there was a knot."

Chapter Text

George’s brows were furrowed as he concentrated on the braid he was creating. Cyra had mentioned feeling tired, but her hair was still wet. 

“Okay.. and now I..” He twisted his hand awkwardly. Cyra winced as she felt him tugging on her hair, “Just one strand over another, back and forth.” He sniffed, narrowing his eyes at the strands of hair in his hands, “One over another..”  

Fred was looking around her dorm, picking up various things from the vanity to examine. His fascination with common girl objects was kind of amusing. She enjoyed watching him lift up a cosmetic item, squint at it like it was written in a foreign language, and then scrunch his nose up as in a confused and disgusted expression.  

A dull throb formed at the back of her head, but she ignored it. She could hear George muttering encouragement to himself. 

“Come on Georgie, you’ve got this. Over and..cross..yeah, that’s it.” 

Fred turned away from the vanity, a poster by Cyra’s bedside catching his attention. As he got closer, his face scrunched up in confusion, “Oi.” She couldn’t turn her head, so she just replied, “Yes?” 

“Who’s this bloke on your wall? Does he not own a brush or something?” 

Cyra rolled her eyes, pointing at where she believed the poster was, “That’s Bon Jovi. He’s a muggle rock star.” 

Fred looked unimpressed, looking the poster up and down, “Right. His hair is longer than mum’s.” 

“It’s a rocker thing.” She defended, “I think he looks cool.” 

He gave her a look, before walking back into her line of sight, pointing a thumb at the poster, “That’s your type?” She began to feel a bit embarrassed, retorting, “So what if it is? I just like his music, Fred, it’s not like I’m going to bloody marry him!” Fred didn’t seem to like that, looking behind her to his twin,  “George, say something.” 

George looked up, pausing his braiding, “What? About what?” Fred gave him a look before pointing at the poster, “Look at what she has on her wall!” He looked over to see the rocker muggle above her bedside, furrowing his brows, “Why doesn’t he have a shirt on? He has a jacket on, does his chest just never get cold?” 

“That’s what I’m saying!” 

He looked back at his twin, before giving him a knowing look, “It’s just a poster, Fred. A muggle poster at that, he can’t even move.” Fred went to retort, but George cut him off, “Now quiet down, I’m trying to focus on this braid.” 

Cyra tried not to laugh as Fred sat down on the bed, defeated by his twin’s dismissal.  Sliding her leg out, she nudged his side with her foot, “Hey..” She saw him glance at her from the corner of his eye, but he said nothing. She nudged him again, “Freddie.” He grabbed her foot, making her cry out in surprise. Finally, he looked at her, a mischievous gleam in his eye, “Got you now.” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

He pretended to look confused, glancing over his shoulder, “What? Are you talking to me?” He turned back to her, his eyes wide with innocence, “What could you mean? Do you- Do you mean this?” While he held her foot captive in one hand, he used his other to tickle the bottom of her foot. 

“AH!!” She cried out, laughter bubbling from her chest, “Fred stop! Stop it!” George made a dramatic sigh as Cyra began wriggling around, “Hold still!” 

“Ah! AHH! Make him stop!” She shouted through her laughter. Fred had a manic grin, tightening his grip as she began kicking, “George, help me!” 

George sighed as Cyra wiggled around on the bed, trying to escape Fred’s grasp, “My braid..” The strands were falling apart with her struggle. 

“Let me go- HA! Oh merlin- HAHAHA!” Her laughter was becoming high-pitched, her kicks getting more panicked. Her stomach was becoming so tight, it hurt. Fred loved to hear Cyra laugh, it was like music to his ears. As her laughter echoed in the dorms, his own began to join her. George cracked a smile as he watched Cyra’s upturned cheeks turn pink, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. 

After a moment more of listening to her laughter, he finally motioned to Fred to stop. Cyra gasped for air, giggles still following each breath. Fred snickered, before motioning to her side, “Didn’t tear anything, did you?” She grabbed the end of her shirt, tugging it up, “H-How’s it look?” 

He cringed as he saw the blood soaking the bandage, “Uhh..” The look on his face told her enough. She got up from the bed, padding over to her suitcase, “I keep bandages in my luggage.” She bent down, wincing as she felt the dull throbbing on her side. Unlatching the suitcase, she took out a roll of dressing cloth and some tape. 

Fred hurried to take them from her, using his free hand to help her up, “I’ll do it, just show me how.” She gave him an unsure look, trying to reach for the cloth again, “I can do it, Fred.” He stepped back, holding the bandages away from her, “No. Tell me how.” 

George noticed Cyra’s expression, she looked like she was close to tears. Was she that much in pain, or did she not want them to see something? Clearing his throat, he got both their attention, “Cyra, you can’t wrap your own wound. If you don’t want us to do it, you could always go see Madam Pomfrey instead.” 

Oh no, she couldn’t do that. She’d be right where she started. Taking a deep breath, she went over to the bed, lifting her shirt to just below her ribs, showing the bloodied bandages, “You’ll need to get these undone. It’s taped in the back.” George got behind her, carefully ripping the tape off. 

Fred came to her front, holding the clean cloth and tape. As George unwound the bandages, Cyra took in deep breaths, feeling instant relief.

“Merlin these are tight, how did you breathe?” George joked. She let out a shaky laugh, “That’s what I tried to tell her.” The last of the binding came off, and she heard their sharp intakes of breath. The cool breeze of air brushed against her exposed flesh, causing her to shiver, “O-Okay so, you-“

Fred took the cloth and placed it on the opposite side of the wound, winding it to the back, where George guided it around. They worked silently, saying nothing. She knew they saw the scars, that was exactly what she was trying to avoid. She couldn’t see George’s face, so she focused on Fred’s. He kept his head down, focusing on her bandages. 

Once she was all wrapped back up, she heard George rip a new piece of tape, sticking it to her bandages to keep them in place. When she was sure the bandages were secure, she dropped her shirt, letting it cover her midsection again. The silence remained, so she decided to clear the air, “I told you before that Fenrir toyed with me.. those are just one of the marks he left. They don’t hurt anymore.”

“ How bad did it hurt?” Fred asked quietly.  He kept his head down, so she couldn’t see his expression. Cyra looked towards the window, seeing the clouds begin to darken the sky, “Terribly. But I couldn’t tell you which hurt more, his claws or his teeth. All I knew was pain, and then the darkness took it all away.” Thunder crashed outside, and she leaned back against George, sighing, “And then I woke up in the cabin, and my Papa was there.”

George’s arms came around her, hugging her softly. Fred climbed up on the bed, joining the hug. They stayed like that for some time, their comforting scents beginning to lull Cyra to sleep. Seeing her drooping eyes, Fred communicated with George silently.

Cyra let out a yelp as she noticed them falling back. Their impact was saved by the pillows on the bed. Before she could ask what they were doing, the comforter was thrown over her head. She let out a laugh as she felt Fred and George snuggle next to her sides, being careful with her injuries, “Are you guys serious?

“We haven’t slept well since you’ve been gone.” 

“And you need sleep.”

“Three birds, one stone, as the muggles say.”  

She shook her head, giggling, “That is not the right phrase. Also, my bed is meant for one bird, not three.”

Fred groaned as he pulled something from his side, “What’s this lumpy thing?” As he took out the black stuffed dog, Cyra snatched it out of his hands, “That’s Snuffles!” As she hugged it to her chest, Fred gave her a look, “You still sleep with that scrappy thing?” 

“He’s not scrappy.” She muttered. 

“Isn’t he charmed? Why does he look so rough?” 

“If you keep insulting Snuffles, I’m kicking you out.”

“Okay, you win.” Fred held his hands up in defeat, sliding down the mattress to lay his head down on a pillow. Once Fred and George got settled in, Cyra closed her eyes, hugging Snuffles close to her heart. Soon, she fell asleep to their comforting warmth. 

Where was she? She looked around, seeing the familiar layout of the Shrieking Shack. Blurs went past her, their voices distorted.

“I trusted you- … He’s a werewolf!”

“Only one will die tonight!”

Bright lights whizzed past her, spells throwing a figure back into the bed, the wood collapsing beneath. The world changed around her; she was outside now. She took a couple steps back, looking up to the night sky. It was a full moon. 

“Remus, did you take your potion!?”

She spun around to see her father beginning to transform, a blurry man grabbing onto his shoulders. A squeaking took her attention, she looked down to see Scabbers running past her. 

“No! He’s getting away!” 

A dark brown blur passed her next, chasing after the rat. It was her. She watched with wide eyes as her werewolf form looked practically rabid, teeth snapping in the air, the rats terrified squeaks following.

“Do you understand why I need to punish you, Ms. Lupin?”

“No sir.”

She turned around, seeing she was inside the castle’s walls. She caught sight of Dumbledore’s robes, watching him approach a blurred image of herself.

“You’re…a..killer..Ms. Lupin…”

She stepped closer, trying desperately to hear through the garbled voices. The door slammed open behind Dumbledore, dark figures entering. She saw her blurred image taking a few steps back. Voices raised between them and Dumbledore. Wands were drawn.

“Cyra! Come on, it’s time to eat!” George’s voice broke through her dreams. As she woke up, she let out a groan, rubbing at her eyes. Fred was still snoring beside her. She rolled out of bed, yawning loudly, “That was such a weird dream..” 

George filled up the cup from earlier with water from the girl’s bathrooms, going over to his twin’s side, “Yeah, what was it about?” She gave a half-hearted shrug, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, “Barely remember, honestly.. it was so blurry..” 

“Hm, weird.” He commented, before spilling the cup onto Fred’s sleeping form. His snores were cut off with spluttering, his hands flailing in the air, “I’m drowning!” George snickered, placing his cup to the side, “Wakey, wakey, Freddie. Time for dinner.” 

“You’re a twat.” Fred complained, pushing wet hair from his eyes. 

Upon entering the great hall, Cyra pretended not to notice the head table staring at her. She sat down at the Gryffindor table, shooting a smile in Harry’s direction. Percy placed his fork down slowly, staring at her, “I’m confused, Cyra, weren’t you supposed to be at home?” 

“Papa had to take a shift at the shop.” She replied smoothly. “Got in tonight.” Fred and George shot her a look, but she ignored it, turning to Harry, “How’s your holidays been?” Harry smiled at her, “It’s been great! Hogwarts is so magical during Christmas.” Ron nudged him pointedly, “Tell her about the mirror you found.”

Harry stared at Ron in betrayal, his friend didn’t notice. “What mirror did you find?” Cyra asked curiously. He looked back at her and gave a sheepish smile, “Well.. it’s just this mirror, it shows you things you wish for.” 

“A mirror you say?” Fred piped in.

“That shows you what you wish for?” George continued. 

Harry looked even more worried, quickly stammering out, “I-It’s gone now though. Dumbledore moved it.” Cyra stiffened at the mention of his name, asking Harry, “Why would he move the mirror?” The raven-haired boy seemed almost close to tears as he replied, “He said it doesn’t do well to dwell on dreams..” 

“Why would he..” It was then she realized, her gaze softening, “Oh Harry..” Of course. What else would an orphaned eleven year old boy wish for the most?

She picked up an éclair, placing it on his plate, “Here, don’t think about it too much.” 

“Wow, Cyra actually sharing chocolate?” Fred piped in, giving Harry a playful smile, “This is an honor.”  Harry took the éclair in his hands, glancing around nervously, “Is it okay to eat dessert before dinner though?” She scooped up some chocolate pudding, plating it beside her roll, “I don’t see why not.” 

He watched her with a growing smile, “Yeah..” Looking back at the éclair in his hands, he took an excited bite. Chocolate and cream exploded on his tongue. Before he knew it, the éclair was gone. His stomach growled as he began filling his plate. Dessert ruining your appetite was a complete tale. He felt ravenous. 

Cyra watched him eat, feeling her chest fill with pride. Harry seemed to have filled out a bit more since she’s been gone, and he seemed happy. That was good. It made her happy to see him happy. She just wondered what would happen in summer. Would he be forced back to the muggle home?

Deciding it was better to think about that later, she tried to distract herself. Picking up her roll, she tore it in half, “So, boys, any new plans in progress?” George was quick to divulge, leaning in to whisper, “Fred and I are actually planning on some regular winter fun.”

“Regular winter fun?” Cyra repeated quietly, not believing a word.

“Totally regular winter fun.” Fred chimed in, whispering in her left ear, “Want in?”

She gave them an amused smile before nodding.