Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!
A/N: I'm writing four of these, one for each of the Scamander family. This is the first. I enjoyed writing this because I've never written him before! I hope you like it. Reviews rock my socks!

Birth

'Luna? Are you okay? Is it time?' Rolf asks, confused and nervous and more excited than he ever remembers being, all at once.

'It hurts, but I'll be okay soon.' A slow, bright Luna smile starts as she replies. She moves to sit up straight again, wisps of hair falling from her bun. 'Before we go, are there Nargles in that bush?'

'No, Luna, I checked a few moments ago.' Rolf bites his lip (a habit he never quite managed to shake) and an unstoppable grin spreads across his face. He summons her bag and pulls his dreamy, beautiful wife behind him. He feels like he is walking on air.

What feels like hours later, Rolf is holding one of his sons in his arms and he can't believe they are his, his and Luna's. Lorcan, crying softly, is being whispered to quietly by his mother. Lysander is sleeping quietly in his father's arms.

The twins both look like their mother, but Lysander, Rolf thinks, has more of his nose than Lorcan. He's sure of that.

World

The world is a fantastical place, right from the start. If he isn't fishing for plimpies in his Granddads pond, he's playing with the Weasley children. They're older than him, most of them, but it doesn't matter to any of them. Lucy Weasley is nearly a year older than him and Lorcan, but they will be in the same year when they finally go to Hogwarts.

The world is a kind place. He knows of war and of death. But he thinks that war is fought to make the world better, and that death is a way of taking someone to a better world. Why shouldn't he believe that? He is just a child after all.

His world isn't shattered, but altered, when he runs his fingers along the memorial at Hogwarts. There are so many names. Too many names. Some are only a few years older than him. And he knows that there can't be anything in the world to warrant this.

He asks his Aunt Ginny about it. She tells him that as long as he is happy, and other people are living in peace, it was worth it. But there is something sad in her eyes that he never quite forgets.

Family

Lysander loves his parents, and his brother. Half of his childhood is spent chasing around elusive creatures that only they seem to believe in. He never once doubts their existence though, never. There is no prouder day in his youth than when his mother's book is in his hands, the dedication reading, For my sons, who always believed and never doubted.

His brother confides in him, one day when they are sixteen years old, that until he came to Hogwarts, he didn't believe. But he wanted to, he told him, he really, really did. Lysander doesn't know what changed, or happened to make him believe. All he knows is that this is a different bigger than he imagined ever existed between them.

That evening, Lysander decides that he doesn't want to be part of a two anymore. He isn't just a Scamander twin, Lysander-and-Lorcan, Lorcan-and-Lysander. He loves being a part of that, but he wants to be himself too. So he lets his hair grow long, and wears it in a small, blonde ponytail. Lorcan still has shorter hair, and they aren't the same anymore. He feels sadder than he expected to about it.

Friend

When Lysander is ten, he asks why his parents love creatures so much, but they don't have any pets. They have an old owl, but he bites and he doesn't like people. So his dad buys him a Pygmy Puff.

He calls him Ignatius. He's purple, but Lorcan swears that he saw him turn orange when no one else was looking. He watches him with an eagle eye after that, because he'd love to see an orange one.

He knows a lot of nice people who he's friends with, he even has his brother, who is his best friend. But he can't talk to them all like he can talk to his Pygmy Puff. Iggy is the first friend he can really talk to, and he doesn't seem to mind when he makes some real friends (as his brother calls it, though Iggy has always been a real friend to him) not long after.

School

'Such an inquisitive mind, I see, but such courage! You are not a Ravenclaw, like your mother, young Scamander, nor are you a Gryffindor. You will do well in HUFFLEPUFF!'

The hat shouts out the last word, and Lysander is amazed. He is with Frankie Longbottom, who was just sorted into Hufflepuff. Lorcan is sorted into Gryffindor, and he is a little disappointed. And then, last in line, Lucy is sorted into Gryffindor, too, and he is disappointed again. But the disappointment only lasts seconds, before he is cheering once more.

They are still four. The twins, Frank and Lucy. It will take more than a school to break them of that (though he still cheers for Hufflepuff the loudest when they are against each other in Quidditch, even if Lucy is playing).

Grief

Lysander was always taught never to regret anything, and to choose very careful what to get upset about. His mum didn't often get sad, not even when their grandfather, her father, died. She cried a lot for a day, her blue eyes red. After that she didn't cry again, just look sad sometimes. She told him that she'd see him again and that she couldn't be too upset.

Lysander bites his lip and he doesn't cry anymore either.

He doesn't like to cry. He likes being emotional, as he seems very often to be. Every emotion under the sun, but he doesn't cry.

Nothing is forever and everything comes to an end. It is the things we fight for that will save us in the end, this is his theory from that day on.

Right up until the day when he is fourteen at Hogwarts. His necklace, the butter beer-cork one his mum gave to him (Lorcan has one too, but he doesn't wear it and it isn't the same as his), is destroyed, broken beyond compare.

He can't stop the few tears that leak onto his cheeks.

Romance

'Just say it!' Lysander tells himself over and over again. He doesn't understand why it's so hard to tell someone on little thing. It should be easy. Three words. That's all. His mum would blame Wrackspurts, but it isn't. He's just a coward.

He works up the courage to do it, to tell her, time after time. The watches her as she sits opposite him, moving the black pieces. This is the one thing he's better than her at, chess. She's good at everything.

Then he sees her. Short crop of pixie-like dark auburn hair. Wide, dark eyes framed with lime rimmed glasses. Small, lithe figure, flitting about ever so sweetly. She's perfect, like a lovely china doll. Not a fairy, fairies are bitter creatures, and she isn't. She's stubborn as hell, intelligent beyond belief, feisty and excitable, but not bitter, never bitter. And he suddenly can't breathe anymore, let alone tell her how much he loves her.

She looks at him and there is something different in her eyes. He wonders if possibly she might be wanting to tell him the same thing.

So one day, after weeks have passed and he can't hold it in any longer, he kisses her. It's so unlike him. She's surprised at him at first. It takes her a second to kiss him back, but she does and he doesn't think he's ever been happier.

She pulls his hair out of it's small ponytail and he kisses her nose. This love, he thinks. And he kisses her again, because she is Lucy Weasley and he is Lysander Scamander, and what else can he do?

Hatred

There is no hatred in Lysander, none. He had tried to find some, when he thought that that was what people wanted. It didn't last very long. He couldn't lie about his feelings, hide himself.

He hasn't ever really received it from another person, either. He knows people sometimes used to laugh at him behind his back. He also knows that Lorcan used to stop those people. But he doesn't think that he's ever been hated.

He hasn't ever really hated other people, either. He came close, when they doubted him and his mother, and their beliefs. All those feelings dissipated when he finally, finally, discovers a Crumple-horned Snorkack. It is not too long after his mother has passed away, and he wishes she could see it. But the looks on their faces as he proves them all wrong, is worth ever single murmur of hatred that he has ever been subjected to.

Death

Lysander receives the news that his brother has died at exactly three minutes past three. He wasn't very old, fifty-seven. No age for a wizard, no age at all. He had been researching the now extremely endangered Erumpent in Africa, when he had got a little too close to a male, and his horn.

It isn't the first death Lysander is affected by. There was his grandfather, who died when Lysander was twenty, but there is nothing he has ever felt that is equal to losing his twin. It's like losing a piece of himself.

They were close, even when people couldn't see it. This death shakes him to the very core. Losing Lorcan means that he isn't one of two anymore. Solo, performing alone instead of singing a happy duet with his brother. He has Lucy, and she is his whole heart, but she isn't a piece of himlike Lorcan was.

It is precisely at the moment that Lysander begins refers to Lorcan in past tense that he realises how much death is a part of life.

Life

Life is a precious thing, the most amazing, unappreciated thing in the world. He doesn't really understand it, not until he is twenty seven.

He loved his life but he didn't understand the wonderful, preciousness of it. Not as he holds his first novel in his hands, Lucy kissing his cheek in delight. Not as his father passes away. Not as he gets married to the woman he loves more than anything else.

Not until his daughter (little Louise Luna) takes her first breath, the colour spreading through her tiny body, does he truly grasp the astonishing joy of life.