"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.