This chapter is Dedicated to Akasha Ravensong!!!! J
Christmas came quickly. Snape was in agreement she should join the Weasleys. He would be back to work, spying on the Death Eaters for Dumbledore. Certainly not something she fancied doing over Christmas break. She climbed into the train with her friends. Hermione would be going to visit her parents instead of taking up the invitation to go to the Burrow. Harry and Tyra were overjoyed at being allowed to go. "What's your mom like?" she's ask Ginny and Ron over and over again.
"I'd be more worried about my brothers," Ron chided her, looking out the window. Harry and Ron started a game of Exploding Snap, which Ginny and Neville joined promptly. Neville was enjoying his last few minutes with his girlfriend before seeing her off to her parents'. Hermione buried her nose in her latest bit of "light reading", A Treatise on the Uses of Ground Unicorn Horn in Potion Making. Tyra contented herself to watch her friends, paying close attention to Harry. For all the losses in his life, he seemed happy enough. She wondered if she would ever be half as tough as the boy who defeated Lord Voldemort. Harry was an idol of sorts to her, proof that life could go on after sorrow.
"Are you coming, Tyra?" Harry prodded her. She had hardly noticed that the train had stopped.
"Sorry," she replied weakly, grabbing her duffel bag which she had packed for the short holiday.
"There they are!" Arthur pointed, and Molly attacked her children with loving ferocity. Ron was covered in kisses from freckled nose to fiery ear-tips. Ginny took her mother's affection with good grace and stood aside as she hugged Harry more than once and smoothed his hair.
"You must be Tyra," she said, smiling and hugging the girl. Tyra instantly liked Molly Weasley.
"Thank you for inviting me," she answered, nodding shyly. She had never been shy in her life. She didn't have long to admire the scene before the twins pounced on her.
"Fred,"
"George," the pair said in unison, shaking both of her hands at the same time. She laughed melodiously, glancing back at Harry, who shrugged.
"You own a joke shop, right?" she asked them, winking at Molly, who grinned impishly.
"Funny you should ask."
"Yes, indeed we do."
"In Diagon Alley." Tyra was led off, one on each arm, and talked to death. Harry and Ron smirked at one another before piling into the tacky Vanagen and bending close together to talk about Quidditch. It was all in all a merry scene to behold, the red-haired Weasleys and their guests chattering animatedly about many things. Tyra felt for a moment like she was with her own family again, and she was certain Harry definitely considered the Weasleys his family. After she had heard his tales about his Aunt and Uncle, she doubted he would ever find love there. The group climbed out of the vehicle and Tyra found herself dragged toward the house. Bill and Charlie were there in the doorway. Charlie's broad face broke into a grin as he rescued Tyra from the onslaught of his younger brothers.
"Charlie," he said, offering her a calloused hand. He was tan and handsome, covered in boyish freckles that crinkled when he wiggled his nose. Tyra found herself liking him immediately. "Heya, Harry."
"Hi, Charlie." Harry shook his hand with an amount of gusto, pleased to see the eldest Weasley child again. "How's Romania?"
"Fascinating. I found a group of Irish Reds. I've been tracking them for a few weeks. There is a clutch of eggs."
"You work with dragons?" Tyra asked excitedly. This launched a deep conversation between the pair, who seated themselves at the kitchen table. Harry and Ron hurried off up to his room, leaving the bubbly scene.
"Somehow I think Charlie has a girlfriend," Ron said in mock-contempt.
"Ah, leave them be. Tyra deserves happiness."
"That sounded awfully prophetic coming from someone who has dreams," Ron concluded, looking at Harry. "Is there something you haven't been telling us?"
"No, no," Harry said, waving his friend away. However, he was having dreams again. Dreams of Tyra being captured and tortured by Voldemort as she was forced to give up the key…key to what? Harry shook his head. Dumbledore had said to ignore his dreams, to stay with whoever he was sent to stay with, and not to go looking for trouble. He tried to block the memory from his mind, but it kept surfacing. There was an ominous tingle from his scar. Voldemort's laughter haunted him as he slumped on his knees on Ron's floor and attempted to busy himself picking up the pack of self-shuffling cards.
"Are you all right?" Ron demanded, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"I'll be fine," Harry said. "Just a little tired, is all." Ron nodded, but didn't agree with his friend. He knew something was wrong by the look on Harry's face, but decided not to press the matter further. Sometimes they both needed times to think things over. He could respect that.
"Harry dear, Ron, come on down for dinner. I've set the table," Molly pressured from outside the door.
"Coming, Mum," Ron replied for them both, silently helping Harry to his feet. Harry followed Ron downstairs. He truly wasn't hungry, especially after the last thing he had been seeing every night in his dream. Tyra's father's sightless eyes staring back at him from a patch of damp forest ground.
"There you are, Harry. I thought you'd hidden from me," Tyra greeted him, hugging him fiercely. "Charlie has been entertaining me. Almost makes me want to change my profession if I don't pass the Auror screening." Charlie grinned from the table, winking at Harry. Molly winced as she heard Tyra mention she wanted to be an Auror.
"Ron and I were just getting settled in. Did you get to look around?"
"Isn't it an awesome house? Wish mine had been half as nice living in the United States." This statement caused Ron to blush with pleasure.
"She sure isn't short of flattery," Arthur noted as she seated herself beside Charlie at the table.
"She's never been accused of being unfriendly," Harry agreed, smiling at his friend when she glanced at him. A broad smile crossed her features. It made him feel even more down. Harry spooned a bite of treacle pudding, one of his favorite desserts, but couldn't convince himself to taste the food.
"Harry?" Tyra asked, worry clear on her face.
"I'll talk to you later," he stated, glancing meaningfully at the company.
"And isn't the orchard lovely?" Tyra asked over-enthusiastically, trying to cover the exchange.
"We usually practice Quidditch up there," Ron offered.
"Fred and George as well? I heard you two were Beaters." Pleased to have been noticed, both boys bobbed their heads in unison.
"Charlie was a Quidditch player as well," Molly added.
"What a talented family!" she said excitedly. "I can play, but never competitively. My dad was paranoid of me doing anything involving possible injury. Guess he was a little over-protective."
"I think your godfather would be too," Arthur stated off-handedly.
"Godfather?" Harry and Ron echoed expectantly.
"Uncle Severus is my godfather," she muttered, reddening.
"Sour-face Snape is your godfather?" Fred exclaimed.
"Admittedly." She turned her attention back to her food, noting all the stares from around the table. "Oh, honestly, I know he's awful. I even think so. But he's my mom's brother, and he was charged with taking care of me. I couldn't ask for more than someone to support me."
"Weird." George grinned. "But kinda cool. Betcha he's nicer to you in class!"
"Sort of, I guess. Nicer when we aren't in class." The table had settled down. Charlie, Harry noted, grasped Tyra's hand under the table. He felt a slight pang of jealousy at that, but knew it would pass. Tyra was never his girlfriend, she was older than he, and she had never been more than his friend. But somehow he felt a little protective. Not that Charlie was in the least doing anything to threaten her.
"Back to work," Arthur snorted. "Fred, George?"
"We're headed back as well. See you all tomorrow." Tyra waved goodbye to the trio as they Disapparated.
"Well, to bed for me then. Ginny, will you help with the dishes?" Ginny obediently followed her mother and the floating dishes to the sink. Ron set up his chess board for a game with Charlie, leaving Tyra and Harry to their own devices.
"I've been dreaming," Harry admitted lamely.
"Occlumency still isn't helping?"
"I'm getting better, but things are harder than they seem when Snape is involved, no offense."
"None taken." Tyra took his hand in her own, sitting across from him and meeting his gaze with her concerned eyes.
"I…"
"Don't believe everything you see, Harry. Dreams are tricky. The Divination teacher at my old school hounded me for weeks about dreams being dreams. I used to come tearing in at all hours of the day, asking him what my dream meant." Harry nodded, not completely reassured, but pleased to know he wasn't the only paranoid one.
"They are just disturbing. Lord Voldemort, see, is connected to me through my scar…it cost me the life of my godfather running off after believing one of my dreams."
"Is that how it happened then?" Tyra asked him softly. "Well, I don't put a lot of stock in Voldemort. I say forget him for the moment and enjoy the holiday," Tyra suggested, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Harry smiled. If only she saw what he did. She'd be miserable. But her advice was sound, so he tried his best to be happy and joined Ron and Charlie to watch their game. Tyra leaned next to the odd Weasley clock, smiling slightly. She seemed to feel that something was about to happen. She had the feelings often enough to trust them. But let fate take its course. She'd be ready for whatever it chose to throw at her.
A/N: I know not much happens here. But it will be worth it, I swear!
J.K. Rowling owns all the familiar characters here. I only claim Tyra and of course, Taranon.