Disclaimer: If you don't know fan fic when you see it, you deserve the agony of suing my penniless hide. That means you, Jo Rowling, and especially Warner Bros.
Rating: In my mind, K+ means PG 13. I could be wrong.
Note: Consider this story a series of one-shots. The overarching story should evolve in your mind.
Section XXVI:
John Blackthorne and Lucrezia Puckle are facing off over a kitchen drawer full of knives.
"Why won't you believe me when I say she wasn't trying to seduce me?"
"I'd cite the fact they hadn't bothered to introduce themselves!"
"I know who they are, you old bat. Aunt Corrine, Nadia, and little Zoë."
"Neither they nor I are blood relations of you, boy."
"And yet you are hosting your little family reunion in my house."
"I hardly wanted them here. But now that Evelyn's finally…"
"Made a breakthrough on wolfsbane so it doesn't sterilize Dad?"
"Gotten pregnant, I can't refuse her anything. Interrupting is rude."
"And keeping your grandchildren from proper schooling is cruel."
"They are not witches, and never will be!"
"I can sense the magic coming off of them, you know."
"It's all I can do to tolerate their periodic presence."
"You know, it's probably not too late for them to learn some."
"They've asked you to champion them, eh? They'll get nothing."
"Well, thanks so much, John. Now we'll never get an inheritance."
"She isn't stopping us from learning magic."
"My sister is talking about the small day schools."
"I think you've interfered quite enough, my supposed nephew."
"And they all left through the fire. I hate family events so much."
"Hey, Johnny, what are you doing here? Is it the weekend already?"
Sirius Black was startled when his godson growled and flooed back to Hogwarts.