- Chapter 1 -

[The Calm Before The Storm]

It was a still and hushed night in Godric's Hollow. Not even the wind had come out to weave its' way through the few leaves that were still desperately clinging to their branches. The stars appeared to have vanished from the night sky yet the moon was exceptionally luminous as it shone down—seeming to spotlight—a quaint two-story cottage. Inside lived a most unusual, ever growing family of four, whom to an outsider would at first appear perfectly normal but upon closer inspection would reveal a few interesting facts.

The father, James, was a very handsome fellow, very tall and muscular with hazel eyes hidden behind spectacles and an unruly mess of black hair that nearly always seemed to be rebelling from his very head. He looked capable of being intimidating and yet the grin that was constantly plastered across his face set off an entirely different opinion.

The mother, Lily, on the other hand, had a slight frame and the type of subtle beauty that could leave people speechless. She was a little shorter than her husband, had bright green eyes that twinkled whether light was near or not, and long, thick and—more notably tamed—vibrant red hair. She had a very kind and patient air about her with eyes that held knowledge way beyond her short years.

A clock by the staircase chimed sweetly several times, before a most peculiar bird-like creature was set free from its confines. The golden blur zoomed haphazardly around the room a few times, exciting the two small children crawling around the living room. The children, who were identical in age—yet not in gender—raced each other to catch the metallic bird; their parents gazing at them fondly from the doorway.

A gentle smile had found its home upon Lily's youthful face despite her best efforts to quell it. "Really dear, I wish you'd get rid of that awful clock."

James gasped in horror, staring at his love in mock outrage. This argument was nothing new to his ears of course for it came up nearly every night. "But Lily, my sweet, I can't just chuck it. Think of the children! They'd be heartbroken if I just threw it away!" Before Lily could argue, James smiled widely and ran off into the living room to join the children in their chase.

Lily shook her head. She really did not know who would be more heartbroken, their darling twins or her dear husband.

A loud crash met Lily's startled ears before a child's cry broke the stunned silence of the living room. Thinking the worst had happened; Lily frantically stumbled into the wide room, glancing around nervously for her family. Considering her husband had found himself in this position many times before, Lily was torn between making sure he was all right and flat out laughing at the spectacle before her.

James was sprawled, most ungracefully, on the ground by the hearth—an overturned coffee table not far from his prone position marked the point of impact. Their son—Harry—was on the floor as well, crying his little eyes out while her daughter was comically situated atop her father's chest. A hint of a sneer etched on her face aimed at the tiny 'bird' that was desperately trying to free its wings from the toddler's clenched fingers.

"I think that's enough excitement for one night," Lily stated rolling her eyes at James' moans of anguish at having been bested once again by yet another piece of furniture. Picking up her wailing son, Lily began cooing softly to calm him, gesturing unconcernedly for her husband to help her put their kids to bed.

"I swear Lils, this house is out to get me. You'll see!" James shouted after his wife, prying the bird's wings from his little girl's grip much to her discontent. Dutifully following his wife's lead, James put his daughter to sleep without any more mishaps—grumbling bitterly as he did so—for he was still a little upset with his wife's easy dismissal of his worries.

His daughter was asleep before he had even made it to her room, the excitement in the living room tiring his sweetheart out. James was glad Harry was with his mother, for the little tyke was always far more difficult than their daughter when it came time for bed.

Sure enough as James sauntered by the next room on his way to the stairs Lily was still trying to put their fussy son down for the night. "Need a hand?" James asked from the doorway, smirking as his wife struggled to calm their son.

"No I think you've done quite enough thanks," Lily shot back, referring to the state of their son. She glared at her husband as he casually leaned against the doorframe, smiling amusedly at her till she broke, rolling her eyes, knowing it was pointless to put up a fight for James would never change.

Lily sighed in relief as her son finally drifted off to sleep, his crying fest having done the trick in draining his energy. Pushing her still smirking husband into the hall, Lily gently closed the door with a yawn of her own, unable to hold it back any longer.

Feeling her husbands arms surround her Lily let herself relax into his embrace. Enjoying the moment, for they hardly got any time to themselves anymore. Lily and James found there simply were not enough hours in the day to split between their kids and his friends, so naturally alone time had to be cherished.

"So my dearest Lily-Flower," Lily groaned in distaste at this age-old nickname he had thought up for her way back during their fifth year in school. She had hated it with a fiery passion back then and still maintained that front to her husband with all her might. However, just as he had, the name had grown on her—no matter how miffed that may have made her at times.

"Yes?" Lily inquired dryly, deciding she had better answer her husband before he got too antsy. Turning her head to the side—to at least have some kind of eye on him should he decide to do something mischievous—Lily waited for James to continue.

James smirked in response, his eyes growing dark as he leaned closer to his wife, "What say we lay down for the night."

Lily shivered as her breath caught in her throat at her husband's suggestion while he leaned down to nuzzle her neck. She was always amazed by how the intensity of her reactions to him never diminished. He was the only one who could ever get to her like that. Get her angry. Break her heart. Fill her with such an overwhelming feeling of love she thought she might burst from happiness.

Lily sighed, content to be in her husband's arms as she leaned further into his embrace. She really did love the fool. "Mmm, were you actually planning on letting me sleep sometime tonight?"

James chuckled lowly, his breath tickling Lily's neck and sending pleasurable shivers down her spine. "Perhaps after I tire you out."

Lily smirked at this before walking out of James' arms, her swinging hips drawing his now full attention as she sauntered towards their bedroom. "What makes you so certain it won't be me tiring you out?" Lily asked slyly, glancing over her shoulder at her stationary husband.

Much to Lily's surprise and excitement she suddenly found herself facing her husband once again as James spun her around to face him. "Only one way to find out," James whispered huskily, pulling Lily's body into his own.

He leaned down to kiss her, her own face turning upwards to meet his. However, before their lips could actually seal the deal a noise from the lower level of the house caught both of their attentions. It sounded like someone was trying to get in the house as they jiggled the handle on the locked front door.

James' eyes lit up at the sound, signaling to Lily that their alone time was over. Whatever they had been progressing towards was about to be put on hold for a while. "Dearest Lily, my sweet! My sparkling emerald jewel! You won't mind if we pick this up later will you?" James asked hopefully, his bright eyes quickly flickering from her astounded expression and down to the first floor where his friends were undoubtedly already up to something.

Lily groaned silently, feeling entirely put out. She was beyond tired of being put second to her husband's friends and would stand for it no longer. That night, Lily would get what she wanted. Even if she had to play dirty, which she was by no means above doing.

Faking a yawn, Lily quickly maneuvered herself out of James' arms. "I don't mind," she said swiftly, turning on her heal to face him again, struggling to hide a smile at the grin that had meandered its way across his face.

"However later will have to be some other night," Lily stated dismissively, wiping the grin clear off her dear hubby's face. "I'm afraid I'm planning on being asleep by the time you finish with your friends. I am after all far too tired to wait for you to get your priorities straight."

James opened and closed his mouth multiple times; trying to work the words out to salvage the situation but Lily would not have any of that. Her husband was notorious for talking himself out of trouble but Lily was not falling for it. "It's quite alright dear," she said, waving him off as she spoke. "Go. Frolic with your friends; just be sure to keep them quiet. If they wake the twins, you're dealing with them this time."

James visibly paled at his wife's thinly veiled threat. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that he adored his kids but they were right terrors when first woken up and James had no desire to single-handedly attempt to calm them again especially when there were more delightful activities he could have been putting his energies towards.

"Not to worry Lils! I'll get rid of them," James yelled over his shoulder, already halfway down the stairs.

Lily smirked as she sauntered away towards their bedroom, satisfied that her powers of persuasion had not abandoned her after all. Unfortunately, this thought ended quite abruptly for just as Lily was about to slip into something a little more appropriate for her future romp, a loud resounding crash echoed off the walls.

It sounded as though an explosion had gone off sending violent tremors coursing through the house, shaking it so roughly Lily lost her balance and tripped over her nightstand, landing in a crumpled heap by the bed. In that moment, Lily saw red and was fully determined and intending on brutally murdering her hubby and his pals. Especially when the first waves of shrieks from her children reached her ears.

"James Charles Potter!" Lily screamed so shrilly her voice nearly gave out. Not that that would have stopped her anyway for she was in full lecture mode, complete with potential bops on the head to further ingrain her anger into the four dunderheaded dolts she knew had to be giggling like little school girls down below.

Before Lily could do any harm to her daffy-headed husband however, James shouted out to her. His panicked words causing her boiling blood to freeze in her veins, "It's Him! Lily, he's here!" For a second Lily stood immobilized by fear, not wanting to believe her husband's words, hoping beyond hope that it was all just some tasteless joke on his friends' part.

She could not doubt for long for she knew that figure stalking menacingly towards James and it was not any of his foolhardy friends. It was someone much worse. At the sight of him Lily knew without any doubt that her happy family was about to meet its end.

She gasped glancing at her husband who had spoken again to get her moving. "Lily! Get the kids and run!" he shouted taking his final glance at the woman he loved. Time slowed in that moment as James and Lily—tears welling in her eyes—shared a meaningful look with each other. It was a look of everlasting love. A look of immeasurable sorrow. A look that said goodbye in a single instant for that was all the time they had left.

It was unfair that it had to end so soon after it had all started but that was unimportant then and they both knew it as well. The only thing that mattered anymore, was keeping their children safe—and whether it took both their lives to do it, they would see it done.

Spinning on her heal Lily raced back up the stairs as fast as she could. When she reached the top, a flash of green lit up the hall from behind her. The color had never looked more frightening. Lily had to quell the sob that almost took hold of her for she knew what that light meant and knew she had little time to waste.

Harry's room was closest to the stairs so Lily quickly ducked inside. The twins' rooms were connected anyway so she intended to quickly grab him then her little girl and make a break for it. She found little Harry in much the state she had imagined, screaming his head off as he looked about wildly, trying to suss out the origin of all the noise.

Her time was running out so Lily did not bother trying to calm her wailing son. She slid to a stop by his crib and reached in to grab him when all of a sudden without any prompting on her part, Harry fell silent. Startled by this, Lily paused and looked down at her son. He was still quite obviously conscious and breathing but his focus was no longer erratically flouncing about the room.

His bright green eyes were curiously focused on a fixed point somewhere behind her. Lily's heart swelled with dread until she was on the verge of choking on it, as she turned to face the intruder. At the sight of the heavily cloaked man, anger surged within her—and despite knowing it to be a futile effort—Lily stood her ground for she was the last defense her children had.

"Leave us alone," she demanded, her voice wavering slightly at the intimidating figure she was fully aware she was no match for. Therefore, she could not fight her way to her children's safety. There was only one option open to her, and though she wholly despised the thought of it, she would do whatever necessary.

The man sneered in obvious distaste at Lily and her demand, chuckling cruelly as she started pleading to his better nature despite knowing there was no goodness to be found in him. Ignoring her, the man stepped forward, his narrowed eyes homing in on Harry, a sadistic smile dancing its way across his face.

"Please," Lily shrieked. "Not Harry, please not my son!" The tears in Lily's eyes were finally set loose as she pleaded with the scoundrel threatening her family.

"Would you rather it was your daughter?" he asked not waiting to hear more pleading from the woman. "Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside now!" he commanded, astounded when she neither listened nor did as he had order.

"Please, I beg of you." Lily cried brokenly between choking sobs. "Not my babies, please no…take me! Kill me instead—" Lily suggested hysterically.

The man was quite obviously growing tired of listening to Lily's supplications. "Stupid girl," he hissed sinisterly over Lily's begging sobs for him to have mercy he had no intention of having, "You try my patience. There is no instead. There is simply before or after."

At his words, Lily stopped her blubbering. Glaring at the monster before her, she raised her chin defiantly, her green eyes shimmering with unshed tears; she spoke the words that would inevitably change everything. "I would die for them," she growled, standing her ground and waiting for the end.

"So be it," he stated indifferently and with another flash of green light, Lily screamed and collapsed to the floor. Her once lively viridian eyes now dull and empty of all life. Her claret locks fanned out around her like the metaphoric blood that had been spilt.

The man barely wasted another glance at her before turning his attention to his true target. The little boy was still curiously staring at him in silent wonder. Obviously, the boy was no threat to him and the man would not let him be either. He had come too far to let some toddling child mess up his plans.

He smiled maliciously then; raising his hand to kill the child. A few whispered words. Another flash of light reflected off the windows before it was all over. The man had barely relaxed his threatening stance when something unforeseen occurred. The light without warning had somehow miraculously deflected back towards the cloaked man, who froze in disbelief as the deadly beam crashed into him instead.

It was over in a matter of seconds but the effects of this event would be felt for years to come. Upon impact the light expanded, encircling him fully until no scrap of his black cloak could be seen. An enraged shout echoed off the walls of the room as he tried to fight it, as soon as it started an explosion of both light and sound muffled his scream.

When the light died away, there was no sign of the man who had caused the disturbance other than a torched robe laying where his body should have been. Fire rose around the robe, spreading rampantly through the room and out the now shattered window, the broken glass scattered about melting from the heat.

It was nearing midnight and Remus Lupin was still very much awake. His attention blearily focused into the fireplace in his study, the flames dancing hypnotically to the pace of his still rampant mind. He was desperate to sort his thoughts into some coherent pattern. Trying to figure out exactly how he got to that precise point in his life. Trying—far more notably—to not think on his past anymore than he was already obsessing.

No matter how hard he tried however, his memories continued to swarm his mind in a plague of images and a scene he wished had never occurred. As the fire continued to crackle loudly in the hearth, Remus' focus distorted until a familiar heartbreaking picture formed behind his eyes.

He had known something was terribly wrong that night. Remus could not contact Sirius. Peter had vanished; his flat empty as if, without a word to anyone, he had just ceased to exist. Remus feared the worst was upon them; that his friends—his family—were in grave danger. Through all of their battles, all of the threats that had come and gone, never had he felt such a sense of foreboding. Continuously he tried to reach any of his friends, knowing in the pit of his stomach that something dreadful was about to occur.

He was proven right mere hours later; he received the horrible news while anxiously pacing his dingy loft apartment. An old owl fluttered exhaustively against the glass, its wings beating an ominous rhythm against the windowpane. Remus could feel his pulse beating in cadence with the bird's wings as he cautiously walked to the window.

With a heavy heart, Remus took the message in his hand. 'The Potters are dead, young Harry survives. Sirius has betrayed us all!' Every syllable was like a searing hot stab to his chest. Two of his best mates murdered that night and one of their own was to blame. Remus felt cold fury take hold of him.

Remus aparated away—his mind a mass of turmoil—for weeks he had suffered alone under allegations that he was the traitor. Nearly everyone including the true turncoat had thought so! He was accustomed to being viewed as a monster by many even though he fought daily to not only change everyone's perception of him but to contain the beast as well.

Now however, having lost all that he had held dear, Remus was finally ready to give in to the monster, track down his traitorous friend and make him pay. He had every intention of doing so—his pain manifesting into rage with every step he took thereafter. He searched all their usual haunts, skulking in shadows as he watched for any sign of Sirius. He had just entered the Leaky Cauldron—fully intending on searching every inch of the establishment—when his world stopped yet again.

The pub was teeming with witches and wizards all abuzz with gossip, firewhiskey, and merriment. Remus felt his heart clench painfully in his chest as he maneuvered his way through the throng—trying his best to divert his ears from listening to the revelry. He reached the steps leading to the upper level when an old witches screech rang out above the din stopping his forward momentum entirely.

Her words were rushed and full of excitement as she eagerly spewed out details that never quite reached Remus's mind. There was no need for it, as Remus had gotten the message. Peter was dead. News of his brave, foolhardy, act reached Remus causing his ire to burn out. Sirius had been caught, albeit at the sacrifice of his last friend. Remus was left alive and for the first time in a long time, he did not know what to do. He was lost as he wandered the celebrating streets alone; inconsolable as he aparated every now and then before he finally found himself standing before the tragic scene.

Before him stood a small two-story cottage that he could barely recognize. Bits of the once beautifully crafted stonewalls were crumbling from the battle that had raged within. Fire had consumed every salvageable surface of the structure; melting the festive decorations and pumpkins surrounding the house. Remus could still feel the heat from the extinguished flames emanating from the house causing him to sweat, his own perspiration dripping down his face, masking his tears from sight.

Remus of course could care less if his tears were on display for the entire world to view. At least then, there would be someone to share his pain with. He had just lost everything and everyone that had ever mattered to him in a single evening and there seemed to be no one that cared. On his way to the scene there were people crowding the streets shouting, laughing and celebrating at the event that meant their ultimate salvation.

Yet no one but him seemed to be mourning for those lives lost that night. Without thinking or—as was more accurate—caring Remus wandered closer to the simmering structure, his heart breaking even more as he examined the damage that had been done to the modest cottage. He stepped through the shattered doorway and cringed at the state of things for a moment, before something seemed to occur to him.

The insides were in shambles but strategically so. Remus might have been out of his mind at that point but to him the wreckage seemed too deliberate. He felt hope swell in his chest as a newfound sense of urgency overcame him. If he could just find a scrap of something that proved someone had been horribly mistaken then his world would not completely crumble around him.

Frantically he scoured through the debris for any sign that his friends were still alive. He passed through the kitchen and dining room opening cupboards and closets as he passed, formulating theories as to why he would have been so cruelly lied to. He supposed the threat of retaliation by Voldemort's followers was so great that deception was their only option—regardless of how harsh it may have been. It was the only possibility in Remus' mind as he resumed his fruitless search.

The staircase leading to the upper level was practically demolished sparing the banister and a few steps so Remus rushed passed it and into the living room. The once warm and loving atmosphere of the room, filled with memories and laughter was now a cold distant ache in the center of his chest. Remus could barely stand the sight of it as it was but he was determined to prove everyone wrong.

He rushed about examining every detail of the room, desperately searching for any inkling that all was not yet lost. Broken glass lay scattered over everything. Most of the furniture was overturned or in pieces and photographs of the happy family had been smashed and melted against their frames leaving only vague imprints of the lives that had just been destroyed. Remus could not bring himself to examine the distorted figures staring back at him, nor could he stomach their pleading looks as they writhed helplessly in their melting frames.

Remus stopped suddenly, his heart leaping to his throat. Up until that moment the only sound, besides his labored breathing, was the crunch of broken glass and the crackle of the odd flame that had yet to go out. Now the closer he got to the center of the room the louder this slight sound became.

It was a nearly imperceptible flutter of wings and Remus knew exactly what it was. Anyone close to the Potters would know that sound. Remus raced to the scorched but otherwise surprisingly intact grandfather clock. It was lying on the floor and as Remus struggled to lift it upright, the impatient fluttering grew even more frenzied.

The instant its clock face was free from the mess on the floor, the being fluttering about inside broke free of its confines. Remus only caught a glimpse of gold as the tiny creature whizzed wildly passed his head. Hope renewed within him in that instant. That tiny Golden Snitch had been with his dear friend since he was an infant. It was his first toy and a family heirloom if James had any say in it.

It might have been insane to believe it but Remus was certain that tiny ball knew where his friends were hiding and could lead him there as well. Without a second to spare, Remus spun on his heel and gave chase to the metallic creature. It flew out of the living room and straight into a pile of rubble under the semi-collapsed staircase.

There must have been a secret room or a path to safety Remus concluded after examining the wreckage. Surely if he removed some of the broken bits, he would find what he was looking for. Wasting no more time gawking at the mess Remus began heaving broken boards and fragments of stone out of his way, struggling to keep up with the shimmering ball guiding his way.

Remus coughed as dust rose around him with each broken article he tossed. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath as the dust settled around him, opening his gaze to a scene that nothing could have prepared him for.

There, beneath all the debris was the lifeless broken body of his dear friend James Potter, his treasured Golden Snitch resting gently—at home for the last time—in his opened palm. His lifeless eyes were staring straight through Remus, but Remus refused to give up yet. He dropped to knees and grabbed hold of his friend shaking him roughly to wake him up.

James had to wake up. He couldn't be dead…He was the strong one. He was supposed to outlive them all. He couldn't be dead. He had a family. He was Remus' family. He couldn't be dead! He couldn't just leave him!

Remus jumped as his hand brushed against James skin. It was cold to the touch. He stared into his friend's eyes but James was not staring back. "James?" He whispered brokenly.

He felt the air leave his body as memories of times long since past swarmed his mind. Meeting James on the train…bonding with Lily over a potions project. His friends accepting him after learning his dark secret…Lily and James 'hating' each other…it seemed a lifetime ago they were all celebrating the birth of their friend's children and yet…there Remus was—staring at the lifeless body of his dear friend.

All at once, everything became real again. Sirius had betrayed them—was all their years of friendship just some long term scam? Peter sacrificed himself to avenge his friends—proving his Gryffindor status in one unfortunate act of bravery. Lily and James were gone—they had barely even began their lives together; their baby girl along with them. And Harry…

Harry's fate had surely already been decided for him. Remus never even got the chance to say goodbye to the infant; his one last connection to his departed friends. It was probably for the best that he didn't see the child. It would only break his heart more to think on the life that now awaited the boy without his family.

A life similar to what Remus would now have to face. Three of his friends—his family—were now dead and one was being carted away to Azkaban as Remus fell to his knees sobbing beside his departed friend. "Please," Remus sobbed openly to his friend's inert body. "I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do!" He pleaded repeatedly, broken and lost.

He wanted to flee the scene when the heartache became too much for him to bear, to let loose that unthinking beast within him and hide from the pain that was overwhelming his senses. He was physically incapable of doing so; there would be no escape from his pain. There would be no escape from the horrendous reality that for the first time since he had stepped off the train, those many years ago, he was alone.

Remus did not know how long he sat there clutching James to him. He did not feel the wind or the damp mist upon his skin—invading the house as if it had never been home to a warm and loving family. Instead, all he could feel was the hollow cold in his soul and the yawning void stretching infinitely before him: where would he go from here? There was no map to show him where to go…to point him to the correct path of coping with his loss.

There was no one and nothing left for him. The only thing left was the pain and emptiness inside threatening to drown him. What was the point of his existence if it was to be frittered away miserable, alone and forever mourning?

It was at that moment of deepest desperation that he heard it—faint at first—just a soft stirring he thought he had imagined. Remus lifted his head slightly, allowing his hollow gaze to leave James' face for the first time in what felt like hours. The noise continued to grow in volume the more he strained to listen—hopeful for the first time that night that what he was hearing wasn't just a hallucination from his manic and overcome with emotion mind.

It was a baby. Somewhere in the house, a baby was crying. Somewhere in the house, a baby was alive. Alive and crying out for someone…crying out for him.

The cries got louder, more insistent and in that moment, as he sprang to his feet, Remus knew his purpose.

A scream cut through the silence of the house startling a resting Remus into action. He leapt from his seat causing the raggedy armchair to fall over backwards with a loud echoing crash as he dashed up the rickety stairs leading to the second floor, a sense of foreboding urgency building in him. Rushing down the disheveled hall Remus burst through the last door on the left, his breathing strained from exertion.

He fumbled for the light switch before making his way inside. His heart—that had been in his throat until then—had quickly plummeted to the bottom of his stomach at the sight of the whimpering girl. Wasting no time, Remus rushed over to the hysterical redhead, gently gathering her trembling form into his arms.

The girl was covered in a cold sweat and shaking uncontrollably as a river of tears streamed freely down her face. "Shh…" Remus murmured quietly into her crimson sleep-tousled locks, rocking the quivering girl back and forth. "It's alright, Lyla. You're alright," he reassured gently. "I'm here now. Everything will be alright, now shh…" The minutes ticked by slowly as Remus continued to soothe the panic-stricken girl.

For as long as he could remember, Lyla had been having strange dreams. Dreams in which Remus did not want to admit brought up feelings of deja-vu in him. They were visions of events that she should not—and more notably—could not know anything about. But each re-telling was as though she were giving first hand account with intricate details of events and conversations that had long since past.

Some nights Lyla would sleep through the night and then regale an uneasy Remus with her latest dream the following day, while other times—unfortunate times like this—she would wake up hysterical and confused. There had been many nights like this during the last twelve years and while they had never been particularly pleasant to deal with, this was by far the worst Remus had ever seen. Lyla was far beyond the point of simple consolations and with each tick of the clock hanging on a nearby wall Remus' frantic mind worried through every horrible possibility.

It was nearly fifteen minutes before Lyla had calmed down enough to breathe properly and an additional five more before she had finally opened up and revealed the contents of her night terror. The seconds ambled by, each one tying Remus' stomach into yet another guilty knot as the girl quietly told her tale of distress, the details mirroring the events of a night that still haunted Remus.

That sinking feeling returned to Remus' chest as he tried his best to reassure Lyla that it was all a dream despite knowing otherwise and hating himself for doing so. Coaxing her back under her blankets, Remus promised to stand guard until she was safely asleep. He sat motionless for the next hour, watching over her sleeping form, as his restless mind contemplated his next steps.

He was utterly disgusted with himself. For nearly thirteen years, Remus had raised her as his own. He loved her unconditionally as if she were truly his daughter and knew she felt the same. However, he had been lying to her since before she could even remember. He had kept her heritage a secret and could not bring himself to tell her the truth because the thought of her looking at him with betrayal nearly made him sick.

Remus had no doubts that she would feel betrayed and hurt above all else, especially when he'd had multiple opportunities to come clean yet ran the other way instead. He had never meant to hurt her. He only ever wanted to keep her safe. Unfortunately, he could not put it off any longer; he just hoped she wouldn't hate him in the end.

'After reliving that nightmare though…' Remus shook his worries off. He had no choice. He would be starting a new job at the end of summer, far away from their home, so he couldn't exactly leave her behind. Lyla would have to attend a new school in a world she didn't even know existed. Remus shook his head, standing resolutely as he turned to wake the slumbering teen. He could not and would not postpone it any longer. Lyla had to know the truth. And he would tell her everything.

Remus cringed, his stomach turning so violently he thought he might be sick, as he pulled his hand away quickly. Stepping back and retreating yet again. He would tell her. There was no avoiding that, but it didn't mean he had to do it that very moment. Lyla deserved her sleep, because he highly doubted she would sleep quite as soundly after he revealed everything.

Making sure the girl was tucked in properly, Remus lingered, his hand lovingly brushing her hair from her face. He sighed, wishing their lives could continue as it had. They were happy and they were safe. Remus shook himself from reminiscing on their past lives together and walked to the door as a heavy realization dawned on him. Their happy life was all an allusion when one of them was being purposefully kept in the dark.

His hand flicked off the light and he paused, looking back upon Lyla one more time. Attempting to freeze that last silent moment with her in his mind before bursting the delusion they had been living in. He sighed, wishing Lyla could feel the deep regret he felt in that instance for he knew tomorrow would change everything she thought she ever knew to be true about who and most importantly what she was.

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