Christmas 1997

Lyra was tired. She was cold and miserable and it was just her and Hermione in the tent. Ron had abandoned them a couple of months before, angered at the fact that Hermione's friendship with Lyra came before his own with Hermione. They had both known it was the horcrux emanating evil thoughts, but both had been devastated by his disappearance.

And now it was Christmas Day. She and Hermione had just returned from finding food, and Lyra had eventually persuaded Hermione that they visit her parents grave. She had never been, and knowing there was a possibility she might not live to see them again, she knew she wanted to visit them now.

She missed Sirius desperately. She didn't know where he was. He had returned with Dora to hers and Remus' house after the trio's escape from the wedding, but by the time they reached sanctuary within Grimmauld Place he had gone. When Remus had turned up asking to accompany them and leave Dora, he had not known Sirius' whereabouts. And since Lyra had thrown Remus out and told him to return to Dora, afterwards sealing Grimmauld Place so as to avoid Death Eaters finding it, she had had no word from Sirius. No sign of his life, no rumour of his death. Not a word.

Ever since they had escaped from the Ministry and sealed Grimmauld Place, they had been roaming across England. Every sign of life that had ever sparkled in her emerald eyes was gone, replaced with a look of strain, of age, of hopelessness.

With Sirius gone, with not being in contact with Remus and feeling utterly guilty about the words they had shouted at each other, Lyra's life was miserable. With no idea whether Charlie was alive, she felt lost. With Ron at the Burrow, as well as her typical feelings of sadness when she thought of him, she also felt deep, consuming envy - not that he was safe, not that he was warm and well fed - but that he knew how Charlie was.

Every second of Lyra's day not focused on their task ahead of them, or on conversations with Hermione was taken up with thoughts of those she had lost, both to death or to circumstances. Her mum. Her dad. Sirius. Remus. Dora. Charlie. Dumbledore. Ron.

And she missed every single one.

And now here she was. Staring down at her parents grave. Her father, her mother, underneath her. For the first time in sixteen years, they were reunited. And Lyra felt the hopelessness of her task crash down on her once more.

A small tear leaked down her cheek.

"I love you Mum and Dad." She whispered, Hermione's own eyes filling as she watched.
"If you have any idea how Sirius is, if he is with you.." Here a small sob escaped her, "if he is with you please tell him that I love him. If he isn't then where is he?"

Hermione's arm snaked across her shoulders, pulling Lyra in for a hug. They conjured flowers before leaving the graveyard, a small token of thanks for all they had given up.

After they had stared up at the house Lyra had once lived in, the house in which her parents had loved her, had cherished her, had protected her and died for her, they turned. Only to find an old lady looking straight at them through their disguises. She beckoned, nodding when they asked if she was Bathilda Bagshot.

But Lyra knew something wasn't right, and stayed quite still, waiting for something to go wrong. Her senses tingling, she waited, watching for any mistake. Her ears tasted the air, absorbing the silence, the slight crunch of snow beneath Bathilda's feet. Hermione looked at her quizzically. "Wha-?", stopping when Lyra slightly shook her head.

"Ms Bagshot?" Lyra gently enquired, "we don't know who you are. Please say something, answer a security question perhaps? You knew my parents, what pet did they have? And what did I break with my godfathers birthday present to me?" It was new information for her, yet it had happened during her parents hiding and therefore she could take a chance - maybe not many people knew the answer, maybe Snape hadn't been in Grimmauld Place.

Bathilda opened her mouth, and started to speak. That was when Lyra knew something was wrong. She stunned the old woman before anything happened, then from afar watched and waited, Hermione still confused and waiting by her side. Eventually, the snake appeared, wrenching and twisting itself free, shedding the body as a snake sheds a skin. Turning, she grabbed Hermione's arm and ran, not bothering with disguise, not bothering with staying in the shadows.

'Just get out' was constantly running through Lyra's mind, and pulling Hermione along they darted into the cottage with the open door, slamming it behind them.

And then they turned. A small cottage greeted them, grey with dust. A small book lay on the tabletop, a layer of dust covering it. Photos lined the walls, Bathilda Bagshot, whose cottage they must be in, and the blond boy who had haunted Lyra's dreams for months.

The grate was cold, no fire had been lit in a while. Shadows filled the room. But Hermione's eyes were fixed on the book.

"Lyra", she said, "look". Lyra turned away from the bookshelf and looked at the book, her eyes narrowing at the title. 'The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore' by Rita Skeeter.

Lyra sighed, "we had better take it with us". Then she turned and looked out of the cottage window, the snake wasn't there but the body lay in the square outside Lyra's parents house. Looking at Hermione, she knew they both had realised the same thing - there was no way it was safe for Bathilda Bagshot's empty body to remain out in the open for the Muggles to see. It had to be kept safe, it had to be retrieved.

By silent agreement, they edged their way out of the cottage quietly, wands at the ready. They eventually retrieved the body, and while Lyra kept a look out, Hermione banished it back to the house. Neither girl could look at it for longer than they had to, and with Godric's Hollow being a mixed community it had been that fact combined with the possible Muggles watching that had caused them to banish the body rather than levitate it.

Eventually, they left. There was nothing more to do in the village; Gryffindor's sword hadn't been with Bathilda and they had paid their respects to James and Lily. It wasn't until they had set the tent up once more and Hermione was sleeping that Lyra's mind wandered back to the thought she had tried so hard to repress.

What if Sirius was dead? What if Voldemort had made his body a vessel, a tool to be used against Lyra? What if he was an Inferius? Would she ever find out what happened to him? Where was he?

While Lyra remained on guard duty, a tear rolled down her cheek.

Sirius was looking at the sky. It was a different sky to where Lyra was, as they were in two different parts of the country. He had been tortured after the wedding, had taken Dora to safety but then returned to go with Lyra and her friends. But when he had arrived they had gone, and the Death Eaters attacked him, forcing him unconscious. When he had eventually awoken, he had gone on the trail of Lyra and her friends, searching the countryside around the Burrow in ever increasing circles, desperately looking for any sign that indicated they had been taken by Voldemort, while hoping with his entire being that he wouldn't find anything.

Eventually, in his grief of missing her, Sirius had walked into a gang of snatchers, who had taken him forcibly to Malfoy Manor. He had escaped just before they entered, wriggling out of their outstretched arms and evading their spells. They had managed to hit him, managed to injure him, but he had still escaped. In his efforts to be free he had chosen to run in his dog form, running and running away from his chasers. He had found a cave where he retreated to in the Welsh Mountains, his energy waning and his supplies limited resulting in taking months to heal himself and gain the strength to travel.

So now, here he was. Standing outside Remus' small cottage, looking at the sky. Desperately hoping that Lyra was alive and well. Raising his weak hand, he knocked. And answering the security questions was allowed admittance only to be hugged by Remus in relief, by his little cousin Dora whose stomach was now obviously swelled.

They updated him on events over the five months he had been missing, and Sirius was as furious with Remus as Lyra had been. But upon hearing of the desperate questions that Lyra had asked of his whereabouts, his heart broke. He had no idea if she was alive, and knew that she didn't know about him. Five months had gone by and they hadn't been heard of. Not once. And now it was Christmas. His god daughter was out there, with only her two friends for company and with the cold surrounding her. She had no idea whether he was alive, nobody had. And here he was, alive, safe, warm, having a reasonable Christmas. Without her.

And it broke his heart.

A/N I know that Sirius says Lyra has her 2 friends for company, but he's been out of action for 5 months and not even the Weasleys knew that Ron had left them. So he thinks they are all still together.