Chapter One

"Dad?"

Remus Lupin turned his head, gripping the mug of tea closer to his chest as he looked at his son, who was standing by the door. Light flickered from the burning fire, illuminating the small boys frame against the darkness.

"Yes, Tick?" Remus asked, pushing his greying hair from his face and pushing his lips into a pained smile.

"A-are you okay?" His son asked, his voice faint.

"Of course I am, I just have a lot on. That's why I'm awake."

The boy smiled a little, his head cocked to one side, making his tawny hair fall into his eyes.

"Go back to bed, Tick." Remus said quietly, smiling gently. It wasn't forced now.

"Okay, dad." the boy said, and wandered from the room back upstairs.

The door creaked slowly, and Sirius' head snapped in the direction that it came from. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and he pushed it out of them quickly as his three children poked their heads into the kitchen.

Amira and Sirius had been talking quietly in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place over a glass of wine, the dim light casting shadows over their faces.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked, his voice quiet but firm.

His oldest daughter, Amartha, swallowed and pushed her long, dark hair from her pale face. She was dressed in shorts and a small, lacy top that Sirius thought she was far too young for.

"We can't sleep."

"Any of you?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow. They all shook their heads. He sighed and turned around to face them properly, a smile creeping onto his face. "What do you want me to do, love?"

The three teenagers smiled at each other and then their father.

"Come play Quidditch."

"It's nearly midnight!" Sirius sighed, putting down his glass of wine.

"Pleasssse?" begged Carmen, his youngest daughter. She had one of the prettiest smiles in the world, Sirius thought. His stomach twisted.

"Alright. Only for half an hour though." He said, much to Amira's horror. She rolled her eyes and sat back, gulping more of her wine down, unimpressed. The children chorused in delight, and Sirius fled from the room eagerly, a wide smile on his face.

James and Lily Potter were smiling widely as they put their children to bed. Harry was still up, down in the kitchen tidying up the mess from their family dinner. James tucked Hayley's bed sheets tight around her, and she squirmed.

"I'm nearly fifteen, dad! I can go to bed by myself, you know." Her voice was gentle, but still strong and stubborn, like Lily. James sighed and got up from one knee, blowing a kiss to both of his daughters, although Harriet was pulling covers over her head so she could ignore him, and left the room, wrapping a rough hand around his wife's waist.

"Harry, love, you done yet?" Lily called down the stairs. A loud reply of 'yes' from Harry made James and Lily both smile, and they trotted down the stairs as fast as they could, trying to beat each other down.

"Dad, I'm off to bed." came a small, squeaky voice, and Peter looked towards to door.

His daughter, Polly, was standing there in her pyjamas, clutching her want in a slightly chubby hand. His daughter was now fifteen years old; she'd cut her own blonde hair short, so that it reached her shoulders, and her small eyes were framed in huge, unattractive glasses from the NHS. It perplexed Peter why his daughter had bad eyesight: his eyes were perfect, and so were his wives.

"Okay." He replied. "Good night."

"G'night, dad."