AN: Alright, so those of you who are following me who might be reading this, I know I really should be focusing on my other stories, but I've been so obsessed with this idea lately, and I just couldn't quit writing! So, without further adieu, here is the first chapter of His Child!


The part of town he was in was not the best one. Street lights flickered on and off above his head as he made his way down the street.

The man was young, but to an onlooker, it was impossible to know that. His face looked worn, and was littered with pale scars. His clothes were so patched and faded that a person might have thought him a man with no home. That person would be right.

Oh, he had a place to stay, but there were things that had happened to the man in the span of a couple days that don't usually happen to most people in thirty years.

The night was unbearably cold, and the man pulled his threadbare coat closer around his thin body as he turned up the front walk of a small house. The man, Remus Lupin, worried that his friend had become even sicker. When he let himself in, he saw that he had been right to worry.

She was laid out on the sofa, her teeth chattering from the cold, and he frowned. Several minutes later, she was covered in as many blankets as he could find, yet she was still shivering. Remus lit a fire in the antique fireplace that Lydia had always loved so much, then sat back and looked at her.

It had only been a month since Sirius' betrayal, and already she was deathly pale and overly thin. He frowned at her, but was interrupted from anything he had to say by the sound of crying from the other room.

Lydia looked at him. "Could you?"

He nodded quickly, getting up and going into the little bedroom that Lydia shared with her daughter. She had not let Kestrel sleep in her own room in three months. The little raven-haired three-year-old had just woken from what Remus guessed was a nightmare, and was crying quite loudly.

Remus hesitantly picked her up and rocked her a bit, grateful that she stopped crying at once. He carried her back into the family room where Lydia rested and sat back down in the chair next to the sofa.

Lydia smiled weakly at him. "She remembers you."

Remus grimaced. "It would be amazing if she did. She hasn't seen me in months. I don't think I make a very good godfather."

Lydia pressed her thin, chapped lips together. "If I didn't think you'd make a great godfather, I wouldn't have picked you."

She patted his hand with her own small one. "You're doing just fine, Remus."

Remus doubted it; the girl had grown completely silent, her blue eyes staring up into his with something akin to fear. He pulled his gaze away to stare at Lydia's hand, at the spidery blue veins clearly visible through pale, papery skin. He sighed. "What are you doing to yourself, Lydia?"

Lydia looked ashamed. "I know. I should be focusing on making myself better for the sake of my daughter. But Remus… how could he?" He saw her wipe the tears from her eyes. "They were our friends, and he's the reason they're dead. And then he went and killed Peter too.

"And do you know what hurts me the most? When he was out doing all of that, he never once thought about his daughter, who he's sworn he loves more than everything in this world combined, including his own life! And this morning, Kestrel finally asked me where Dada was! She has to know that there's something wrong! And I don't know how to explain to her that Dada's not coming back and that Mama can't bring him back and-!"

She was full on sobbing then, and Remus couldn't understand anything more of what she was saying; only that it was being said very quickly, as if she had to force the words from her throat. Kestrel began crying again at the sounds of her mother's pain, and he rocked her a little as he went over to the sofa. Lydia made room for him and he sat next to her, letting her throw herself at him and cry her grief into his shirt. He used the arm that was not holding her daughter and wrapped it around her, shedding a few silent tears himself.

That they were finally letting themselves grieve might have been a step in the right direction, but if Remus Lupin had known what would happen in the following years, he would have cried a whole lot more.

Remus arrived at the funeral in his best clothes. This is to say, they were rather ratty. Nevertheless, they were black, and he supposed that was enough.

He couldn't help but feel a little numb, like he was looking at everything from a distance. As if this was someone else's life, like it had happened to another person. How could she be gone? She had been the only person he'd had left.

He shivered, pulling his tattered cloak more closely around him as he approached. There were twenty or so people milling about, reporters and book writers and people who had heard about Sirius Black's wife's passing. There was hardly anyone there that had known her- really known her- in life, and that was what made Remus' heart hurt more than anything.

Anyone who would care had already passed or was otherwise incapacitated. The Potters were gone, as was Peter. The Longbottoms were in St. Mungo's, and Sirius was locked away for murder.

To escape from the stares of people who were just there for a story, Remus sat up in the front section, near the casket that he refused to look at. Maybe this was his punishment, and rightly bestowed, too. After his visit three months after Sirius had been locked up, Remus and Lydia had grown more and more distant, his visits going from every month to every other month, then to every three or four months, and finally to every now and then.

Every time he visited, Lydia seemed in a state of forced happiness for the sake of her daughter, who recognized Remus less and less as the years went by. When was the last time he had visited before her death? He couldn't remember. He should have visited more frequently. Should have paid more attention to her health, asked more questions about how she was holding up. The guilt washed over him in great waves as he came up with countless ways he could have prevented it from happening.

He didn't realize that his eyes had closed until they opened again at the sound of someone sitting in the chair beside him. He turned to tell them that the section had been marked off for family and friends only, but stopped in his tracks when he saw just who it was he was sitting next to.

She was staring straight ahead, blue eyes large and empty looking, tiny white hand clutching that of the man sitting on the other side of her, whom Remus belatedly noticed was Albus Dumbledore.

He found his voice. "Kestrel."

The girl turned to look at him, and he saw not even a hint of recognition in her eyes. She said nothing, but her eyes had widened marginally. He imagined she was quite afraid of his appearance, with all his scars and his ratty clothes.

Albus turned to her. "Miss Black," he said gently. "This is Remus Lupin. Do you remember him?"

Kestrel shook her head at the old man. Whatever Albus had been about to say next was interrupted by the beginning of the service. The whole thing was only about thirty minutes long, an unemotional service, and the time came all too soon when family and friends were called up to view the deceased.

There was complete silence for a few minutes as all the others waited for someone to go up. Albus did not try to make Lydia's daughter go up, and she sat where she was, frozen, staring at the casket like it was her worst fear.

That left Remus. He swallowed hard and stood slowly, clutching the rose he had bought earlier tightly in his hand. He tried to ignore all the eyes staring at him as he made his way up to the open casket. As soon as he looked into it, he had to choke back a sob.

There was Lydia's face, sunken and grey and dead no matter how much makeup and beauty charms had been applied to it. There was no look on her face at all, and that was almost worse than if there had been pain on her features. It was unnatural, that face. No smile, like Lydia had always had on her face before the Potters' deaths, when Kestrel had only just turned three years old. How old was she now? Five? six? Had the little girl ever even seen her mother smile genuinely? Probably not, and it was a shame. She'd had one beautiful smile.

He felt a tear slide down his face as he leaned down and pecked Lydia's cheek, placing the yellow rose he'd been holding on top of her unmoving hands. When he stood, he saw that Kestrel's eyes were glued to him, her own white rose hugged tightly to her chest, blue eyes big and anxious. He gave her a wan smile that he suspected looked more like a grimace than anything, and the girl hesitantly left Albus' side, walking quickly up to the casket as if she wanted to hurry and get it over with. She stopped for a moment in front of the casket and placed the rose right next to the one Remus had left, her hand brushing against her mother's. She snatched the hand back, looking frightened, and ran to where Remus stood waiting. She stopped when she reached him and the two of them went back to their seats together.

Albus went up with a sprig of lilac in his hands and placed it in the casket with a grave look in his eye, then came back and took his seat again while the others who were not family or friends were called up.

The funeral ended soon after, and Remus readied himself to leave because he couldn't bring himself to see her laid in the ground. Albus stopped him, his hand once again clutched in the little girl's.

He pulled Remus aside while the others went to see the burial. "I believe Lydia has left you something."

Remus frowned. When had she written a will? He felt a pang in his chest, because no woman in her twenties should ever feel the need to write a will. "What has she left me?"

A little of the twinkle came back into Albus' eyes as he looked down at the little girl clinging to his hand.

Then it suddenly hit Remus. How could he have forgotten? "I'm her godfather… so that means I'm accountable for her now."

"Yes."

"But Albus, I'm not even sure how to take care of a child! Where would she go when-" he began frantically, but the look on Lydia's daughter's face made him stop.

"You won't be fully alone in raising her, Remus." Albus reassured him. "Did you think she was left nothing? There is a Gringott's bank vault in Miss Black's name that you may draw money from for anything that she might need. As for the other situation, we will acquire care for her when that time comes."

The old man looked down at Kestrel. "Miss Black, Mr. Remus Lupin will be your guardian as of today. Is that alright?"

The girl said nothing, but she didn't make a fuss when Albus freed his hand and apparated away with a last farewell and declaration of his condolences. Remus hesitated, and then held out his hand. "Have you ever side-apparated before, Kestrel?"

She nodded and tentatively took his hand.

"Okay. Here we go."


AN: So there you have it! Reviews would be much appreciated, as I would like to know what you guys all think so far! :)