"Language, Romulus," Sirius muttered tiredly. The man was suddenly exhausted, overwhelmed by the emotional enormity of the situation. The scared, crying young woman in front of him was his niece, and he had absolutely no idea that she even existed before tonight. He rubbed a hand down his face, trying to figure out how to explain to Rom who Electra was and why she was here. Of course, he didn't know the details and couldn't actually tell his son what had happened, but he knew that that was probably for the best. If she wanted to tell her uncle why she had been cursed, beaten, and disowned, she would. If not, Sirius was hardly going to press her for information.

"Sorry, Dad," Romulus replied sheepishly. He recognized his father's stressed voice, and noticed the tight, tired face.

"Rom, this is Electra," Remus explained, hoping that his friend wouldn't mind him taking control of the situation. "She's, well, Sirius?" He stopped suddenly, unsure of how to continue.

"She's your cousin, Rom."

"I, how? Dad, you don't have family?" He asked more than he said, confused. He knew that his father had had parents once upon a time, but he never mentioned them. As far as he knew, Remus and James were the closest that his father had to brothers. It was obvious, though, that the woman sitting in front of him was related to his father. She had the same grey eyes, the same black waves, the same haughty look.

"I did once, Rom. I had a brother, Regulus. I was disowned, blasted off of the family tree when I was fifteen. Electra, she's Regulus's daughter. Electra, love, this is Romulus, the son I was telling you about. He's fourteen, and a current Hogwarts student. He's home for the Christmas holiday." At the mention of Regulus, Electra once again began to cry quietly.

"Sirius, do you have anything more comfortable that Electra can change into? I know you're considerably taller than her, but perhaps a pair of pyjama pants and a t-shirt." Remus asks, noting for the first time the clinging dress, the black stockings, and the high heels that the woman wore. "Perhaps you can show her the loo, as well. Electra, dear, you must be dying to get out of that dress and wash your face." Electra nodded, smiling slightly at the man's soft words.

Sirius summoned a pair of clean pyjamas and a soft t-shirt for the girl and, offering her a smile, handed them to her, apologizing for the size.

"S-Sirius?" The girl asked, her voice cracking slightly.

"Yes, love?"

"Can, can I, maybe, hug you?" She asked quietly, looking at the floor shyly, her voice breaking on the last word. She was so grateful for the man's welcome, his warm demeanor, and his kindness. Sirius extended his hand, roughly pulling her off of her chair and into a warm, tight, embrace.

Natasha Lupin woke up to find her husband's side of the bed empty. She vaguely remembered Sirius bursting in and dragging him out of bed in the middle of the night, but had no idea what for. She knew that she would find no note, but that if she called on the Black household, she would more than likely find her husband there. She thought about it, but decided instead to owl Lily Potter and ask whether she still wanted to go Christmas shopping in Diagon Alley today. As she sat down at the table and began to write, she was surprised to find Sirius's owl, Snuffles, tapping at her window. She rushed over and let the bird in, taking the parchment tied to his leg and unfurling it carefully. There, she found a note scrawled in her husband's messy handwriting.

Nash, it read, Sirius has a niece, Electra. She was apparently disowned last night, after a nasty duel – both magical and physical. Sirius asked me to come Heal her. She's asleep now, poor girl must be absolutely exhausted. I'm going to stay for a tad longer, just to make sure there are no nasty lingering effects that decide to show themselves within the next few hours. Bring the kids for breakfast, if you'd like, Rommy would love to see his cousins. I'm owling the Potters as well. Your loving husband, Remus.

Natasha had always been very mothering, and it devastated her to think that there were people who didn't love and care for their children. Her first impression of Sirius was that he had been deprived of love during his childhood, and it broke her heart to learn that she had been correct. Tears filled her warm brown eyes as she read the letter and realized just how horrible Sirius's family must be. She poured herself a cup of coffee, and then went to rouse her three children. As much as they disliked being awoken early when on holiday, she knew that their love for Romulus, Sirius, and the Potters would outweigh their hatred of mornings. Besides, Sirius always went all out when decorating for Christmas – probably because his childhood home had never been decorated – and Natasha and the children hadn't seen it since he finished the fairy lights and suspending crystallized snowflakes in midair. In the eyes of her young children (and, okay, in her and Remus' eyes as well), Sirius's extravagant magical decorations were much better than their modest tree and the garlands on the staircase railings.

James and Lily Potter were sitting at their kitchen table with hot cups of coffee and fresh muffins in front of them. Their son, Harry, was sound asleep in his bedroom upstairs (they hoped), but Petunia, their daughter, was a perpetual morning person and was sitting with them with her cat curled up in her lap. She was a first year at Hogwarts and was animatedly telling them about her first term. James was watching the snow falling outside more than he was listening, but Petunia didn't even seem to notice. Of course, while he enjoyed being awake in the morning, he didn't much care for actually functioning in the morning. He needed several more cups of coffee before he could properly process what his daughter was telling him. Luckily for him, Lily was wonderful and was contentedly listening to Petunia.

James must have dozed off at the table, because suddenly there was a tall man with dark hair and grey eyes standing in his kitchen. "Sirius? What in the name of Salazar's snake are you doing in my kitchen at," he checked his watch swiftly, "half six in the morning?"

Sirius answered his question as animatedly as Petunia had just been telling her parents (mother) about Hogwarts. Unfortunately, his answer made absolutely no sense.

"Petunia, darling, go wake your brother, and do it nicely. Sirius, sit down, tell us again – slowly. Would you like some tea or coffee? Perhaps a muffin?" Lily gently commanded. Sirius shook his head, and plopped himself in the chair his goddaughter had just vacated.

"Regulus. He had a daughter. Electra. I had no idea she existed. She showed up on my door last night. This morning. It was nearly 4. Remus came and Healed her, she was a mess. She's asleep now. Remus says she won't sleep long. She doesn't seem that much older than I was when I was disowned, but Romulus says he's never seen her before and she doesn't go to Hogwarts." For the first time in years, James actually listened and comprehended what someone was saying in the morning. Lily covered Sirius's hand with one of hers. "Remus owled Nash, she's bringing the rest of their litter. I was hoping you lot would come, too. I know Rom misses Harry desperately, the two must be attached at the hip at school, and, well, I'd love Electra to see that there are some wonderful people in the world. I've a feeling she hasn't met too many decent people."

"Of course, Sirius. That's why I sent Petunia to wake Harry. I'll make some more muffins and bring them." Lily says. James is just staring at Sirius, his mouth hanging open. "James, close your mouth."

"I'm sorry. It's just – someone actually procreated with Regulus?" He practically screeches indignantly. That breaks the slight tension that none of the three knew was even there, and Lily and Sirius both burst into laughter. "Anyways, of course we'll come. Lils, I know you were planning on going to Diagon Alley with Nash today, this will work."

Electra woke up suddenly, breathing hard and shaking slightly. She was terrified of facing her father, after the things she said and did last night. As she lay there, trying to calm her breathing, she began noticing differences in the bedroom she was in and the bedroom she had grown up in. The walls were a warm red, there was sunlight coming in from the clean windows. The room didn't feel damp and cold, and there was no sign of Slytherin colors or the Black family crest. The biggest difference, however, was the sound of laughter floating up the stairs. Laughter, not screaming. Memories of last night hit her like a rogue bludger. She cautiously slipped out of bed and began making her way downstairs to where the sound was coming from.