I'll admit- I cried writing this.
"Daddy! Mummy! It's Christmas! Santa's been here!" The voices of his three children pulled him from his fitful sleep. Lately, he hadn't been sleeping well. Nightmares plagued his sleep, causing him to spend long periods of time trying to prolong the time when he'd have to go to sleep. He'd started to hate sleep, with such a passion, because every time he fell asleep, he dreamed that his wife and two of his oldest children had been killed.
With a tremendous scream, all the ecstatic children jumped onto him, giggling happily. Sirius mumbled back in response, grabbed the closest child and held the wiggling person to him, causing their escape to be hindered. Finally he opened his eyes and found eyes the exact same colour and shape staring back at him, filled to the brim with her mother's curiosity. "Isabelle," he said sternly as he reached a hand up and gently tugged on one of the eight year olds auburn ringlets, "you're the oldest. Make sure the rest of you don't hurt your mum." Rosie was facing him, she always slept on her side, her dark, auburn hair fell around her like a curtain, in complete contrast to her milky pale skin. A fine splattering of freckles covered her nose and cheeks. Her eyes, always a different colour depending on her mood, were closed, as she rode the gentle tides of a dream. Rosie was yet again pregnant, not that they'd told the children yet, and she wasn't very far along. A month at most, one of her healer friends had told her. Sirius had always been exceptionally protective of the girl and didn't want one of their children jumping on her and hurting her during such an early stage of her pregnancy. It seemed like his only son, Hedley, had other plans. Since Belle had claimed all the credit for waking him up and had had the best jump, the seven-year-old boy wanted nothing more than to jump on his sleeping mother and wake her. Except he didn't get that as Sirius sat up abruptly, setting Belle on his lap as he met his son's eyes. "Hedley!" The boy jumped and looked at his father, his face filled to the brim with guilt, his lower lip pushed out in a pout- sometimes the boy acted exactly like his mother, mood wise. Hedley moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his mood shifting quickly as he patted the large family dog, Fang. Sirius and Rosie had had for years, ever since his wife had found him in a box in the gutter one day, during a ferocious storm.
Belle gave her dad's nose a quick honk, before giggling, scrambling off his lap and moved to sit beside her younger brother, her attention shifting to Fang. Isabelle was the oldest, being a total of eight years old. Hedley was seven. And then there was Abbiegayle, who had just turned five. He didn't think it was possible but Abbie looked almost identical to her mum. Nothing of him seemed to have rubbed off on the youngest Black.
"You all run downstairs and double check that Santa's came. We don't want to get mummy all excited for nothing, you know?" Hedley and Abbie ran off, tripping over their own feet as an ecstatic Fang ran after them. Only Isabelle remained, her little hands tightened around the necklace he and Rosie had gotten her for her eighth birthday.
Belle had always been so fascinated by her mother's necklace- the one he'd given Rosie the first Christmas that they'd been together, with the little dandelion seeds in the small bottle- so, for her birthday Sirius had made another one, and had cast a spell on the bottle so it wouldn't shatter easily.
"Daddy, I did double check." She said in that matter of fact, smart-ass way that she'd clearly inherited from her mother. Sirius sighed, leaned over and ruffled his daughter's hair. "Triple check. Now shoo kiddo." Isabelle rolled her eyes and ran off after her siblings, finally leaving her father with his beautiful wife.
Ever so gently, Sirius leaned in and let his lips skim against Rosie's. Instantly, she responded to him, with enthusiasm, making him come to the conclusion that she'd been awake.
"Morning, Hunter." He breathed against his lips before he pulled away slightly and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ears. Rosie's eyes fluttered open; today they were the same green as Christmas trees. "I knew you were awake." Sirius said, amusement clear in his voice as he watched his wife sit up, stretch and flash him a secretive smile.
"Who do you think woke the kids up?" And then it all made sense and Sirius had tackled her to the bed, easily pinning her under him. "I should've known." He murmured, his lips mere centimeters from hers. Every single beat of her heart he could feel and she leaned in and closed the distance, making him lose himself in the feeling on her lips against his. Perfection. Kissing Rosie Hunt- Black was absolute perfection to him. Until their loud, annoying children ran back into the room, saw their parents locked into a very passionate snogging session and loudly chorused. "EWW!"
Slowly, they reluctantly pulled away. Just by looking at Rosie, Sirius could see the lust shining brightly in those eyes of hers, but she suppressed it and got out of the bed. "Alright, kids! Present time!" And with the children following at her heels, Rosie blew her husband a kiss before bolting down the stairs. Sirius slowly followed, after pulling on one of the many Christmas sweaters Rosie had made for him. She knitted sweaters for their whole group every year and still hadn't given up on James who always refused to wear it. That was one of the many things he loved about her, she was just purely innocent yet a little devil when she wanted to be.
The day passed in a flash. The children opened their presents, so did Rosie and Sirius, and all of them were decked out in hand-made sweaters. Sirius' present to Rosie had made her laugh uncontrollably. He'd gone and found a sprig of mistletoe, wrapped it and chucked it under the elaborately decorated tree. As soon as she'd seen it, she'd held it between them and looked at him expectantly, batting her thick eyelashes at him until he snogged her. After breakfast, they Potter's had came over for Christmas lunch, bringing with them their eight year old son, Harry and their seven year old daughter, Elizabeth. It was their Christmas tradition, which they carried out every year.
After ten o'clock the Potter's left and Sirius and Rosie carefully carried their children to their rooms, read them a story and put them to bed.
Everything was perfect, especially when his wife started snogging him passionately as soon as they'd entered their room. It was customary for them to shag every Christmas, a tradition Rosie had started the first Christmas they'd spent together. It was perfect- until Sirius Black woke up.
He was in a dark, dank cell in Azkaban prison where dementors stalked the halls and tore away even the happiest of thoughts. And that was when it hit him. Rosie. Isabelle. Hedley. Even little Abbie who Rosie had been pregnant with when she'd died, were gone. He'd never see them again. Never pull Rosie into his arms, kiss her so deeply that they both couldn't breathe properly. He'd never wake up to see her beautiful smile or hear the music-like laugh of hers, or have a future with her. His family, the love of his life, everything, was gone.
Dead.
Just like his heart.
His soul.
