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.