George's brows were furrowed as he concentrated on the braid he was creating. Cyra had mentioned feeling tired, but her hair was still wet.
"Okay.. and now I.." He twisted his hand awkwardly. Cyra winced as she felt him tugging on her hair, "Just one strand over another, back and forth." He sniffed, narrowing his eyes at the strands of hair in his hands, "One over another.."
Fred was looking around her dorm, picking up various things from the vanity to examine. His fascination with common girl objects was kind of amusing. She enjoyed watching him lift up a cosmetic item, squint at it like it was written in a foreign language, and then scrunch his nose up as in a confused and disgusted expression.
A dull throb formed at the back of her head, but she ignored it. She could hear George muttering encouragement to himself.
"Come on Georgie, you've got this. Over and..cross..yeah, that's it."
Fred turned away from the vanity, a poster by Cyra's bedside catching his attention. As he got closer, his face scrunched up in confusion, "Oi." She couldn't turn her head, so she just replied, "Yes?"
"Who's this bloke on your wall? Does he not own a brush or something?"
Cyra rolled her eyes, pointing at where she believed the poster was, "That's Bon Jovi. He's a muggle rock star."
Fred looked unimpressed, looking the poster up and down, "Right. His hair is longer than mum's."
"It's a rocker thing." She defended, "I think he looks cool."
He gave her a look, before walking back into her line of sight, pointing a thumb at the poster, "That's your type?" She began to feel a bit embarrassed, retorting, "So what if it is? I just like his music, Fred, it's not like I'm going to bloody marry him!" Fred didn't seem to like that, looking behind her to his twin, "George, say something."
George looked up, pausing his braiding, "What? About what?" Fred gave him a look before pointing at the poster, "Look at what she has on her wall!" He looked over to see the rocker muggle above her bedside, furrowing his brows, "Why doesn't he have a shirt on? He has a jacket on, does his chest just never get cold?"
"That's what I'm saying!"
He looked back at his twin, before giving him a knowing look, "It's just a poster, Fred. A muggle poster at that, he can't even move." Fred went to retort, but George cut him off, "Now quiet down, I'm trying to focus on this braid."
Cyra tried not to laugh as Fred sat down on the bed, defeated by his twin's dismissal. Sliding her leg out, she nudged his side with her foot, "Hey.." She saw him glance at her from the corner of his eye, but he said nothing. She nudged him again, "Freddie." He grabbed her foot, making her cry out in surprise. Finally, he looked at her, a mischievous gleam in his eye, "Got you now."
"Don't you dare."
He pretended to look confused, glancing over his shoulder, "What? Are you talking to me?" He turned back to her, his eyes wide with innocence, "What could you mean? Do you- Do you mean this?" While he held her foot captive in one hand, he used his other to tickle the bottom of her foot.
"AH!" She cried out, laughter bubbling from her chest, "Fred stop! Stop it!" George made a dramatic sigh as Cyra began wriggling around, "Hold still!"
"Ah! AHH! Make him stop!" She shouted through her laughter. Fred had a manic grin, tightening his grip as she began kicking, "George, help me!"
George sighed as Cyra wiggled around on the bed, trying to escape Fred's grasp, "My braid.." The strands were falling apart with her struggle.
"Let me go- HA! Oh merlin- HAHAHA!" Her laughter was becoming high-pitched, her kicks getting more panicked. Her stomach was becoming so tight, it hurt. Fred loved to hear Cyra laugh, it was like music to his ears. As her laughter echoed in the dorms, his own began to join her. George cracked a smile as he watched Cyra's upturned cheeks turn pink, tears forming at the corner of her eyes.
After a moment more of listening to her laughter, he finally motioned to Fred to stop. Cyra gasped for air, giggles still following each breath. Fred snickered, before motioning to her side, "Didn't tear anything, did you?" She grabbed the end of her shirt, tugging it up, "H-How's it look?"
He cringed as he saw the blood soaking the bandage, "Uhh.." The look on his face told her enough. She got up from the bed, padding over to her suitcase, "I keep bandages in my luggage." She bent down, wincing as she felt the dull throbbing on her side. Unlatching the suitcase, she took out a roll of dressing cloth and some tape.
Fred hurried to take them from her, using his free hand to help her up, "I'll do it, just show me how." She gave him an unsure look, trying to reach for the cloth again, "I can do it, Fred." He stepped back, holding the bandages away from her, "No. Tell me how."
George noticed Cyra's expression, she looked like she was close to tears. Was she that much in pain, or did she not want them to see something? Clearing his throat, he got both their attention, "Cyra, you can't wrap your own wound. If you don't want us to do it, you could always go see Madam Pomfrey instead."
Oh no, she couldn't do that. She'd be right where she started. Taking a deep breath, she went over to the bed, lifting her shirt to just below her ribs, showing the bloodied bandages, "You'll need to get these undone. It's taped in the back." George got behind her, carefully ripping the tape off.
Fred came to her front, holding the clean cloth and tape. As George unwound the bandages, Cyra took in deep breaths, feeling instant relief.
"Merlin these are tight, how did you breathe?" George joked. She let out a shaky laugh, "That's what I tried to tell her." The last of the binding came off, and she heard their sharp intakes of breath. The cool breeze of air brushed against her exposed flesh, causing her to shiver, "O-Okay so, you-"
Fred took the cloth and placed it on the opposite side of the wound, winding it to the back, where George guided it around. They worked silently, saying nothing. She knew they saw the scars, that was exactly what she was trying to avoid. She couldn't see George's face, so she focused on Fred's. He kept his head down, focusing on her bandages.
Once she was all wrapped back up, she heard George rip a new piece of tape, sticking it to her bandages to keep them in place. When she was sure the bandages were secure, she dropped her shirt, letting it cover her midsection again. The silence remained, so she decided to clear the air, "I told you before that Fenrir toyed with me.. those are just one of the marks he left. They don't hurt anymore."
" How bad did it hurt?" Fred asked quietly. He kept his head down, so she couldn't see his expression. Cyra looked towards the window, seeing the clouds begin to darken the sky, "Terribly. But I couldn't tell you which hurt more, his claws or his teeth. All I knew was pain, and then the darkness took it all away." Thunder crashed outside, and she leaned back against George, sighing, "And then I woke up in the cabin, and my Papa was there."
George's arms came around her, hugging her softly. Fred climbed up on the bed, joining the hug. They stayed like that for some time, their comforting scents beginning to lull Cyra to sleep. Seeing her drooping eyes, Fred communicated with George silently.
Cyra let out a yelp as she noticed them falling back. Their impact was saved by the pillows on the bed. Before she could ask what they were doing, the comforter was thrown over her head. She let out a laugh as she felt Fred and George snuggle next to her sides, being careful with her injuries, "Are you guys serious?
"We haven't slept well since you've been gone."
"And you need sleep."
"Three birds, one stone, as the muggles say."
She shook her head, giggling, "That is not the right phrase. Also, my bed is meant for one bird, not three."
Fred groaned as he pulled something from his side, "What's this lumpy thing?" As he took out the black stuffed dog, Cyra snatched it out of his hands, "That's Snuffles!" As she hugged it to her chest, Fred gave her a look, "You still sleep with that scrappy thing?"
"He's not scrappy." She muttered.
"Isn't he charmed? Why does he look so rough?"
"If you keep insulting Snuffles, I'm kicking you out."
"Okay, you win." Fred held his hands up in defeat, sliding down the mattress to lay his head down on a pillow. Once Fred and George got settled in, Cyra closed her eyes, hugging Snuffles close to her heart. Soon, she fell asleep to their comforting warmth.
Where was she? She looked around, seeing the familiar layout of the Shrieking Shack. Blurs went past her, their voices distorted.
"I trusted you- … He's a werewolf!"
"Only one will die tonight!"
Bright lights whizzed past her, spells throwing a figure back into the bed, the wood collapsing beneath. The world changed around her; she was outside now. She took a couple steps back, looking up to the night sky. It was a full moon.
"Remus, did you take your potion!?"
She spun around to see her father beginning to transform, a blurry man grabbing onto his shoulders. A squeaking took her attention, she looked down to see Scabbers running past her.
"No! He's getting away!"
A dark brown blur passed her next, chasing after the rat. It was her. She watched with wide eyes as her werewolf form looked practically rabid, teeth snapping in the air, the rats terrified squeaks following.
"Do you understand why I need to punish you, Ms. Lupin?"
"No sir."
She turned around, seeing she was inside the castle's walls. She caught sight of Dumbledore's robes, watching him approach a blurred image of herself.
"You're…a..killer..Ms. Lupin…"
She stepped closer, trying desperately to hear through the garbled voices. The door slammed open behind Dumbledore, dark figures entering. She saw her blurred image taking a few steps back. Voices raised between them and Dumbledore. Wands were drawn.
"Cyra! Come on, it's time to eat!" George's voice broke through her dreams. As she woke up, she let out a groan, rubbing at her eyes. Fred was still snoring beside her. She rolled out of bed, yawning loudly, "That was such a weird dream.."
George filled up the cup from earlier with water from the girl's bathrooms, going over to his twin's side, "Yeah, what was it about?" She gave a half-hearted shrug, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, "Barely remember, honestly.. it was so blurry.."
"Hm, weird." He commented, before spilling the cup onto Fred's sleeping form. His snores were cut off with spluttering, his hands flailing in the air, "I'm drowning!" George snickered, placing his cup to the side, "Wakey, wakey, Freddie. Time for dinner."
"You're a twat." Fred complained, pushing wet hair from his eyes.
Upon entering the great hall, Cyra pretended not to notice the head table staring at her. She sat down at the Gryffindor table, shooting a smile in Harry's direction. Percy placed his fork down slowly, staring at her, "I'm confused, Cyra, weren't you supposed to be at home?"
"Papa had to take a shift at the shop." She replied smoothly. "Got in tonight." Fred and George shot her a look, but she ignored it, turning to Harry, "How's your holidays been?" Harry smiled at her, "It's been great! Hogwarts is so magical during Christmas." Ron nudged him pointedly, "Tell her about the mirror you found."
Harry stared at Ron in betrayal, his friend didn't notice. "What mirror did you find?" Cyra asked curiously. He looked back at her and gave a sheepish smile, "Well.. it's just this mirror, it shows you things you wish for."
"A mirror you say?" Fred piped in.
"That shows you what you wish for?" George continued.
Harry looked even more worried, quickly stammering out, "I-It's gone now though. Dumbledore moved it." Cyra stiffened at the mention of his name, asking Harry, "Why would he move the mirror?" The raven-haired boy seemed almost close to tears as he replied, "He said it doesn't do well to dwell on dreams.."
"Why would he.." It was then she realized, her gaze softening, "Oh Harry.." Of course. What else would an orphaned eleven year old boy wish for the most?
She picked up an éclair, placing it on his plate, "Here, don't think about it too much."
"Wow, Cyra actually sharing chocolate?" Fred piped in, giving Harry a playful smile, "This is an honor." Harry took the éclair in his hands, glancing around nervously, "Is it okay to eat dessert before dinner though?" She scooped up some chocolate pudding, plating it beside her roll, "I don't see why not."
He watched her with a growing smile, "Yeah.." Looking back at the éclair in his hands, he took an excited bite. Chocolate and cream exploded on his tongue. Before he knew it, the éclair was gone. His stomach growled as he began filling his plate. Dessert ruining your appetite was a complete tale. He felt ravenous.
Cyra watched him eat, feeling her chest fill with pride. Harry seemed to have filled out a bit more since she's been gone, and he seemed happy. That was good. It made her happy to see him happy. She just wondered what would happen in summer. Would he be forced back to the muggle home?
Deciding it was better to think about that later, she tried to distract herself. Picking up her roll, she tore it in half, "So, boys, any new plans in progress?" George was quick to divulge, leaning in to whisper, "Fred and I are actually planning on some regular winter fun."
"Regular winter fun?" Cyra repeated quietly, not believing a word.
"Totally regular winter fun." Fred chimed in, whispering in her left ear, "Want in?"
She gave them an amused smile before nodding.