Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

December 16, 2003

An apartment in Los Angeles, California

"Hey, Lana? It's me, Ethan. I'm back from Iowa. Well, almost back. I can see the lights of the greater Los Angeles area up ahead. My mom loved the kids.  She says Henry looks just like me. You know – grandparents. Anyways, could you take the twins until New Years? I have to fly to London to see my dad's family, and what with one thing and another, I won't be back in the States for two weeks. Can I drop the boys off tomorrow at one? Call my cell if that's a problem."

*BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP* "Monday, December fifteenth, ten o clock p.m.," intoned the tinny voice from the answering machine.

Lana sighed. She had listened to the message a hundred times, at least. She knew it was stupid to want to get back with her Ethan, her ex and the father of her twin sons. After all, she was the one who had been such a bitch to him. They'd broken up months before Henry and Ian were born. Neither of them had wanted to give up custody when the kids were born, though. But it was hard raising infants this way, not knowing what their bedtime routine was with their dad, or exactly when she'd get to see them. . . .

The doorbell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. Lana walked over to the door of her apartment, and turned the knob without bothering to look out the peephole.

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December 17, 1958

An old grey house in London, England

Annabella, the maid Mrs. Black hired for the holidays, when there was too much work for the house-elf, dusted the drearily decorated front hall and hummed "God Bless Ye Merrye Hippogriffs" to herself. Annabella was an awful hummer, but she didn't know that. She always hummed when she was dusting. That was probably the reason it was so hard for her to keep most jobs. Annabella definitely did NOT know that.

"Annabella! Is the hall clean enough for company?" Mrs. Black asked imperiously as she flounced down the stairs. It was really more of a command than a question. "So hard to find pure-blood help these days," she said to herself.

"Almost clean, Mistress Black!" Annabella called, as she pointed her wand at the ceiling and whispered, "scourigify!" She put her wand back in her pocket, dusted off the shriveled house-elf heads mounted on the wall, and bustled towards the door, eager to catch a glimpse of a post-owl, or an early guest.

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September 1, 1992

King's Cross Station, London, England

The small, black-haired girl pushed her cart across Platform 9, heading towards the barrier. Her parents were somewhere behind her; she'd managed to lose them in the muggle crowd.

She wanted to get on the train, away from her parents, as fast as she could. She wanted to get away – away to freedom at school, freedom to be who she was, not the proper, aristocratic, pure-blood muggle hater her parents wanted her to be. She marched up to the barrier, and pushed her way through to a life unknown.

A/N Yes, all these stories turn out to be connected, and yes, Sirius Black does show up in a few chapters. Don't worry.