Disclaimer: Not mine. No money exchanged. No offence or infringement intended. Doing this just for fun.

A/N: Hiya folks, here's the next chapter. It looks a bit early but it's not. I'm changing the posting schedule for this story to include Thursdays (yeah I'll update my profile later). Standard warnings. Thank you for the reviews. Please review, it lets me know how I'm doing and what elements could make this story better.

3.

Later that night Claire came to my room.

"Alex? You awake?"

I sat up in the bed and flicked my wand, opening my bed curtains and lighting the room's sconces simultaneously.

"I couldn't sleep." My twin padded across the floor and sat at the foot of my bed drawing her knees up to her chest. "I'm still angry, but I'm more hurt than anything…and scared. Merlin, Alex I am so scared," she whispered her eyes wide and teary.

I said nothing, letting her talk—this is how it is for us. Claire talks, I listen. For upwards of an hour she railed against dark lords and curses that worm their way through you ever so slowly, laying in wait—undetectable until they attack your magical core and immune system convincing your body that it's its own enemy. She cursed Voldemort in every language we knew, and prophecies and the Headmaster and finally, tears shed and voice hoarse, she asked me what I'd been dreading.

"You knew didn't you?"

I sighed. Yes, I felt guilty but I still didn't want Claire to be mad at me. Call it healthy Slytherin self-interested self-preservation, but there it is. I sometimes wonder if Siri had lived if he would've been in Slytherin with me or in Gryffindor with Claire, or in a third House, though I honestly can't imagine any child of my father's being a Hufflepuff.

Claire cleared her throat and looked at me expectantly.

"Yes and no," I admitted, suddenly finding the pattern of my sheets rather intriguing. "I knew something was wrong when I couldn't access the link these last few months and I felt pain and sickness at King's Cross, but I didn't know exactly. I guess…I suspected something…"

Claire pursed her lips, "Why didn't you tell me?"

I shrugged, "I wasn't sure and I knew they'd tell us soon enough. It's not the first time they've shut down the link and…and I didn't want to worry you."

Claire smirked, "If I could do what you do I'd have told you."

"Maybe." I conceded.

Claire hugged her knees. "There are still too many secrets in this house," her eyes were fierce and tired.

"Hmm…maybe. But Claire there are other things in this house too—safety and love and—"

"But for how long Alex," she hissed, ruthlessly cutting me off. "How long before this place loses all joy and happiness? How long before everything we love about our home becomes hollow and meaningless? He's the heart of us you know," she added desperately.

I nodded sadly as I thought about that. It's true. Dad is the heart of our family. He softens Father's sharp edges. With his gifts of joy and excitement, he was the first to bring light and laughter into an otherwise tomb-like Manor. I didn't want to think about what would happen when he was gone. So I forced those thoughts away and took solace in what he'd taught us. "Those you love are never really gone. He'll always be with us Claire and we'll always be family."

I looked at my sister then--messy black bangs and Grandmum Lily's piercing green eyes--and smiled, "I'll always see him in your face. And hear him in your laughter." I could feel the tears coming again and decided to let them fall. "He'll always love us and he'll always be with us."

"I'll live as you live. Echoes of me are in every beat of your hearts." The deep and steady voice startled us. As much as we'd trained with our parents and teachers we should've heard him coming, but caught up our own heads, he'd managed to surprise us.

"Daddy you should be in bed!" Claire yelped. She launched off my bed and went to cover him with the throw she'd wrapped around her shoulders.

Dad coughed and held up his hand as he perched on the edge of the bed. "Voldemort wrote the cheque Claire. An ickle bitty cold isn't going to cash it." He smiled faintly as he settled against the sturdy headboard, "So...who's up for a little Exploding Snap?"

Claire looked at him with wide-eyed disbelief. "Are you just going to sit there and act like things are normal? Things are NOT normal!"

Dad smirked and jerked his thumb at his daughter. "That's our Claire," he said to me, "always kicking up a fuss." He patted my cheek at my small smile and turned back to my fuming sister. "Honey, I'm not trying to make light honest, but I want your memories of this time to be more than just a vigil at my bedside. I'm dying, I'm not dead yet. I want to spend the time we have enjoying each other, not just sitting around like Moaning Myrtles bewailing our fate. We needn't wait for the other shoe to drop, it'll happen soon enough. Alright?"

Claire sniffed and nodded. I leaned away from Dad and dug around in my bedside drawer for the cards. He had a point, besides this was tradition. Our first night home on holiday we'd have an Exploding Snap marathon. We'd play 'til dawn and the winner would have a lie in and the losers would make them breakfast in bed. Typically, Claire had late breakfasts the morning after.

With a wave of her wand, Claire stoked the fire and we settled in for the long haul. We laughed and chatted and played and got incredibly sooty and for a few hours it felt normal—for a few hours we could forget. An hour or so before dawn Dad started coughing and gasping for breath. Before either of us could make a move Father was there in his dressing gown to take him back to bed. Once they'd gone we admitted we were afraid and neither of us budged an inch from where we sat.

Father returned a few minutes later with a pinched expression on his face, "He's alright. Said he'd see you in the kitchen Alexander, and told Claire to enjoy her lie in." He fixed us both with a no-nonsense glare, "Now I say, both of you get to bed. It's been a long day for us all." He kissed us both, stroking our hair and our faces. It had always been his way. As he straightened himself the shadow of a smile played on his lips, "What you all see in these little marathons I will never know." He shook his head and slipped out, our chuckles at his back.

Tbc…