Tyra followed Dumbledore at a gesture from Harry. Snape was following behind them, curiousity mixed with disgust clear on his features. He was giving Tyra that look again. Harry knew that if Snape was involved, then the Order of the Phoenix would undoubtedly be involved as well. Dumbledore pointed Tyra to a chair, which she sank into very willingly. Her head dropped forward almost to her knees as she fought to control herself. She stared at her hands for a long moment before forcing herself to look everyone in the eyes. McGonagall rushed over and threw her arms around Tyra and Harry, who had moved to stand behind her. "I understand that this will be hard for you, as well as Harry. There are a few things we are going to need to know, when you are ready to talk. But for now, we will see to it you are excused for the funeral. I assume you plan to attend?" Tyra nodded once to confirm.
"Please, let me go too," Harry asked quietly.
"Unfortunately, that isn't prudent, Harry. I am afraid Tyra will have to go on her own. I will send someone with her. In fact, I know just the person." Dumbledore turned to one of the portraits behind him. "Phineas!" Phineas, in his Slytherin colors, with his sharp features and handsome beard, was in his usual state of sleep. "PHINEAS!"
"What is it, Dumbledore? Always waking me," he grumbled sourly.
"I need you to hop into your other portrait at the Black mansion and shout for Remus Lupin. Tell him he is to travel to Hogwarts with all speed to escort Tyra Gordeeva to her father's funeral." Phineas saluted with a half-feigned yawn, vanishing. Tyra stared at the empty frame, eyebrow raised in question.
"Remus is nice," Harry assured her.
"I know he is. I didn't know portraits could do that."
"Harry didn't know that there was really a Chamber of Secrets. We learn something new every year," Dumbledore said, managing a small chuckle. Snape stood by, subdued as usual. He was staring even harder than usual at Tyra. Tyra returned his look with a sort of bemused quirk at the edge of her mouth. When Snape met Harry's eyes, he hardened up again. What was the connection? Harry wondered that to himself. "Have a seat, Harry." Dumbledore waved his wand and a squashy green armchair appeared next to Tyra's chair. Minerva had both hands on Tyra's shoulders. Harry looked Dumbledore in the eye.
"I want to go with her." He was very firm, but respectful.
"Harry, as much as I would love to grant your request, I simply can't. You'll see why soon enough." Harry nodded slightly, fists clenching. He wasn't a stupid little child. He had taken on Voldemort numerous times and come out alive now. Of course, the last time hadn't gone well, but he felt as though he deserved a little more credit for being able to take care of himself. As much as he hated Dumbledore's decision, he still held the man in the highest regard. Especially after last year's confession that he had become too attached to Harry and wanted more than anything to see Harry happy. He had a strange sort of affection for the Headmaster.
"Ah, Remus," Dumbledore said as the door banged open and the pale, stick-slim figure of Remus Lupin entered the room. He had dark circles under his eyes, and Harry knew why. The full moon had recently passed. He looked more drawn than usual, but his smile was the same as ever.
"I came as fast as I could, Albus."
"No worries. We've been sitting here patiently. Sorry to have taken you away from watch tonight. I assure you Tyra will need you more than the watch rotation."
"Molly took my place. It's no problem. Hey, Harry." Harry managed what he hoped was a passable smile. "Tyra? Do you need to gather anything from your room?" Tyra nodded once. "We'll be on our way then. See you, Harry. Good day, Severus." Snape nodded, a slight sneer pulling at his upper lip. Tyra was swept from the room rather ceremoniously. Dumbledore waited until they had gone to turn to Harry. He was sitting quietly, waiting for what would come next.
"Minerva, please alert the professors of Tyra's absence as soon as possible. Severus?"
"I know what I have to do, Headmaster. I'll report tomorrow morning if all goes well." Snape swept from the room, drawing the black folds of his robes around him as he left. "Harry, I think it fair to warn you that in the next few weeks you will hear things you may not want to hear. I really need you to stay true to your Occlumency lessons, Harry. It is incredibly important." Harry bobbed his head, but said nothing. Tears of anger were hot in his eyes. "Is there something you wanted to say to me?" Harry shook his head slightly.
"No, Sir. I'm tired." Harry's hand strayed to his scar. Voldemort was pleased. Very pleased. He could hear the haunting laugh, see the terrifying visage as if in a mirror. The Dark Lord was most amused. Harry could venture a guess as to why. "One question," he admitted guardedly. Dumbledore nodded him to continue. "Tyra said her parents were charged with guarding my family."
"They volunteered to keep an eye on the perimeter, were even there to help cast the Secret-keeper spell that hid you from the Death Eaters. The Gordeevas were grand friends of the Potters. Your mother and Tyra's were very close." Harry inclined his head, considering what had been said. "You're going to ask her to tell her side of the story, aren't you?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes, Harry. It will help you understand a few things, as well as the Order. Tyra might remember something we've managed to overlook. I suggest you get to bed, Harry. Tell Miss Granger and Mister Weasley all you'd like, but be sure no one hears you. I would like to keep the other students in the dark on this. Undue terror right now could be most unfortunate." Harry got numbly to his feet, steering himself toward the door. "And Harry?"
"Yes, Professor?"
"Please don't take it personally that I wouldn't let you go."
"I know. It isn't safe for me," he replied almost sarcastically. Dumbledore watched his retreat with something between sadness and pride on his features.
"So it's true then?" Ron asked incredulously. "You think she'll even remember anything at all? She was two years old!"
"She knows Lupin. I bet you anything she knew Sirius and Peter Pettigrew and maybe even James!" Hermione exclaimed, not realizing the pain she was causing Harry with those names. That was a list he both loathed and treasured, the feeling of it heavy on his shoulders. Harry's frown made her reconsider. "Sorry, Harry. But it is true."
Hermione ran her fingers through her usually bushy brown hair. Harry only then noticed the way her hair was nicely curled and how it framed her face. She was growing into a lovely young woman. And Ron was more propotionate, slightly less lanky in appearance. His frame was filling out, no longer dwarfed by over-sized hands and feet. "You're right," he sighed. "I wonder why Dumbledore chose now of all times to bring the past to light. And I'd still like to know why Snape is so interested in her. I swear I've caught him following us several times. And have you seen the way he looks at her? It's weird." Ron wrinkled his nose, freckles dancing comically over it like little ants.
"Maybe he has a crush."
"Are you kidding?" Hermione cried, looking scandalized.
"I am sure Ron was kidding, Hermione. I am going to bed." Harry was tired and didn't want to listen to his friends bicker.
"Goodnight, Harry," Hermione called after him. He could hear them chattering heatedly, no doubt continuing their argument about Snape's secret love interest. He drew on his pajamas, smiling slightly at Neville, who was up reading his Herbology book with a particularly fascinated look. Nevilla chose to say nothing, which suited him well. He sank into his four-poster, forcing himself to try and clear his mind and go to sleep. It didn't come easily, and when it finally did, he almost wished he had stayed awake. His mother's screams, the flashes of green light through the bars of his crib…it was all so real, so defined. The face that haunted him day and night, the face of Voldemort, leered over him, wand ready. Harry felt the gust of magical wind that filled the room and stared through unknowing infant eyes after the shadow that remained after the bright emerald behind his lidded eyes. He remembered another face, the face of a young man with familiar red-brown hair…He woke with a start, soaked with sweat. Ron's arms were pinning him firmly to the bed.
"Harry? Harry? It's me, Ron! Your best friend! You were dreaming again…" Ron trailed off lamely, stepping back to allow Harry space.
"Thanks, Ron," Harry replied in a hoarse whisper. "I needed to wake up." Yet something about the dream gave Harry a nagging feeling of its importance. It was the first time he had ever recalled Marrick Gordeeva in all his millions recaps of the past. Something about that bothered him as he sank back into his pillows, staring wide-eyed at Ron.
"Wanna talk?"
"Maybe tomorrow. Go back to bed." Ron nodded, confusion clear. It was normal for Harry to dream, and equally normal for him to keep his dreams and fears to himself. Frustrated, Ron flopped back into his own bed and pulled the curtains around himself. Harry did the same, taking hold of his wand. "Lumos," he whispered. A dim ball of light appeared at the wand's tip. Harry pulled the picture book Hagrid had given him in his first year from beneath his pillow and flipped through the pages. He stopped at the photograph of his parent's wedding, eyes wandering over the familiar scene. Sirius and his dad waved cheerily, dressed in tuxedos. Lily Potter blew him kisses. Beside her was a young woman in a green dress. She was blushing deeply as she edged into the picture. Harry had failed to pay her any mind before. She had the same hazel-green eyes as Tyra, and the face was the same as the one in the clipping from the Daily Prophet. Her hair was very dark, almost as black as that of James. She gave a small wave, throwing an arm around Lily's shoulders and blowing kisses as well. Harry couldn't help but smile through his sadness. The scene was so happy, he couldn't possibly think that every single person in that portrait was dead. Instead, he forced himself to close the book and extinguished the light. He spent the rest of the night awake, laying on his side listening to the breathing of the room's other occupants, punctuated by Ron's snores.
"Team tryouts? Do you think Tyra would try out?" Ron asked, looking at the notice Harry had pinned up on the board.
"She likes to fly, but she doesn't play Quidditch," Hermione answered. "We had this discussion." Harry nodded agreement. Taranon fluttered from out of nowhere and settled on Harry's shoulder. Harry patted him distractedly.
"It'll give me something to think about while she's gone."
"Cho Chang isn't good enough?" Hermione teased gently.
"To be quite honest, I don't know what to do about Cho," he admitted. "But I am thinking about what I am going to have to hear Tyra tell me. And something about it scares me beyond belief."
"Harry, scared?" Colin Creevey materialized, trying to jump into the conversation. They were exiting the portrait hole to go down to breakfast.
"Girls," Ron said, rolling his eyes. Colin shrugged, raising his camera.
"Can I take pictures at tryouts? Please?"
"We'll see Colin," Harry said civilly. "Would you mind awfully doing me a favor? Would you carry my broom for me tonight?" Colin seemed satisfied with this, and tore down the hall to catch up to his younger brother.
"That was a brave move, Harry," Ron groaned. "You sure you wanted to do that?"
"Can't have him listening in, can we?"
"S'pose not." The trio entered the Great Hall in single file, walking down the long trestle table until they were halfway down its long surface before seating themselves. Taranon hadn't left Harry's shoulder since he had perched there. Harry didn't mind overmuch, his weight and warmth were somewhat conmforting. Malfoy was going through one of his famous pantomimes and collapsing on the floor amid a flurry of Slytherin laughter. Harry felt his gall rise, and found himself remaining seated only because his friends had each taken an arm.
"He'd never do that to Tyra's face," Hermione said coolly, buttering toast. "Leave it be, Harry. He's provoking you. Be the bigger person." Harry nodded, though he by no means felt calm enough to take Malfoy's jibes this morning. Blinking back moisture from his eyes, he scanned the head table for Snape. The man was there, head bent over his plate as he attempted not to nod off. He caught Harry's stare and nodded curtly, face drawing into a tight pinch.
"Well, we know Snape made it back this morning. He looks judicious as usual," Hermione noted, a hint of anger in her voice. "I wonder what he really has going on in that head of his when it comes to Tyra."
"Better not to know yet, I think," Ron mused. It was Saturday, and Harry had to get ready for Quidditch try-outs. As he and Ron were the only permanently-assigned members of the team, they had their work cut out for them. He gave Ron instructions to meet him at the pitch two hours before dinner. Professor McGonagall had offered to book the field for them. Harry had been grateful for the distraction. He decided to take a walk thorugh the courtyard and wait around to see if Tyra had returned. He wondered how long a wizard funeral took to prepare. He assumed it would be quicker than a Muggle ceremony. Perhaps she would even come back that day. Harry wondered to himself where she would go now that her parents were gone. Hermione and Ron joined him, sitting together under a tree. Hermione opened a textbook and flattened out a roll of parchment, meticulously taking notes. Ron busied himself with setting up his chess board and having a game against himself. Harry was glad they were content to be silent company for the moment. He sat with Taranon sprawled in his lap. The bird was starting to molt, meaning it would be burning day soon. Harry watched as the bird mussed its plumage. It trilled once before springing into the air. Harry watched him fly around a few times as though wanting to play. Harry waited to see what would happen next. When he did nothing, the phoenix landed in front of him and pecked his toe eagerly, as though trying to show him something. He got to his feet, following the bird as it flew back toward the school. Hermione slammed her book shut, getting eagerly to her feet. A wave of her wand shrunk the chess board and pieces so they fit in Ron's pocket. He rushed sheepishly after her, tailing Harry. They chased Taranon willy-nilly through the corridors before finally coming to rest in the library. Madame Pince eyed the creature as it landed in the darkest section of the library and tugged a book off the shelf.
"Mr. Potter, I do ask that you keep that creature out of the books!"
"I am afraid he has a mind of his own, Madame Pince. I will do my best." Harry picked the bird up and placed him back on his shoulder perch before lifting an impossibly heavy volume that had fallen open in a puff of dust. It looked relatively new compared to the other books around it. The title was emblazoned on its cover in brilliant gold lettering. "A Comprehensive List of British Wizarding Familie Historie" seemed like the least-used book in the whole library. Harry wondered who would go to the trouble of cataloging all the wizarding families in England. Hermione raised her eyebrows, but said nothing as they found themselves a table. Harry flipped to the front of the book. It listed all the current students of Hogwarts, as though the book were kept up-to-date. Hermione smiled knowingly, telling them that the book was charmed to record wizard family lines for the entire history of the school. Harry found his own name, Potter, Harry…Page 7776. Flipping through the pages, he saw the names of his parents, of his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley, going back as far as his grandparents. It went no further on his mother's side. But it traced back through his father's father two more generations. His family stared back at him like some sort of missing link. He was just looking up Gordeeva, Tyra, when she appeared behind him.
"Hiya, Ron, Hermione. Hey Harry, what you doing?" Harry closed the book with a guilty snap.
"Just a little light reading," he replied, stealing Hermione's line.
"You call that light? Madam Pince said I could find you guys here. I'm under strict orders to take Taranon out of the library. He does look a little sickly, doesn't he? I should probably put him on his perch to finish the transformation. Won't you walk with me?" Harry could hear her overly strained voice as she attempted to be cheerful. She was very brave, walking along with a feigned spring to her step, keeping her secret from the rest of the school as best she could. But the school would know, if anyone got the Daily Prophet. Obviously Malfoy knew, he had been egging them on at breakfast. Harry smiled and gave Hermione and Ron meaningful looks.
"Of course we will," Hermione reassured, linking arms with her. Harry heaved the volume into his satchel after making sure Ron would turn the signed card in to Madame Pince. She watched them go with an accusatory glare, pleased that the phoenix was no longer making a fuss in her library. Ron hurried after them, elbowing his way through a group of gossipy third-years that crowded the hall.
"Move along, all of you. Blocking the hall isn't a good idea." Ron made sure they were leaving before finally catching up to his friends at the bottom of the stairs.
"What do you think, Ron? Could I watch you guys do the tryout?"
"Sure," Ron said distractedly in response to Tyra's question. "I don't see why not."
"Are you okay, Ron?"
"I'm fine, just a little…short of breath. All that running." Tyra was convinced he was hiding something. She could tell by how red his ears had become. She decided not to press the issue for the moment, and instead told the Fat Lady the password (frosted frogs) before continuing her trek up the girls' staircase with Hermione. "That was close, Harry. We'll have to be careful. What if she had seen you snooping?"
"We'll look at it tonight after we go to bed."
A/N:This chapter took me longer than expected. It was hard, but I am trying hard to stay true to my plot line and not divulge too many details. I am trying very hard to keep the characters as close to J.K. Rowling's interpretation.
Which leads me to my disclaimer. All characters are the property of J.K. Rowling, except Tyra, she's mine. Just bear with me, I will get the next chapter up as fast as I can.