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.