Halloween Night, 1981

There was a shadow lingering in the garden. Illuminated in a window were a mother and father playing with their children, twins who giggled as they clutched one another and crawled over the floor, content in their little bubble with each other and their parents. It was warm in that house, overflowing with love even against the hatred they knew to choke the world.

The shadow in the garden shifted, stepping on a twig, and the man inside, James Potter, whirled around. "Lily," he whispered, his laugh dissipating into the air. "Lily, it's him."

"Oh god," Lily breathed. "It is."

"Take them," James said, hazel eyes wide with fear. "Take Harry and Calla and go. I'll hold him off!"

"James!" Lily cried, rushing to the hallway and the bottom of the stairs as a cloaked figure thumped on the door. "What about you?"

"I'll hold him off," James said simply, biting his lip. He'd left his wand in the kitchen, and so had Lily. "Go!"

"I love you," Lily sobbed, holding her children tight to her chest.

"I love you too," James said, tightening his jaw as his wife disappeared up the stairs and the door fell down.

There was a flash of green light, and James Potter's life disappeared.

"Mummy loves you," Lily Potter murmured to her children, standing curiously in their crib. Her voice shook as she spoke, heart hammering. "Daddy loves you."

The children simply blinked, the enormity of the situation lost on their young minds. The little girl and boy just wanted their father to hold them. "Be brave, Calla, Harry. Be brave for us."

The nursery door was pushed in and Lily whirled around, desperate. "Not my children," Lily Potter said, staring into the eyes of Lord Voldemort. Her voice shook with both love and fear. "Don't touch my children."

"Give me your children," he hissed. "And you needn't come to any harm."

"You've already killed my husband," Lily said, tears pricking at her eyes. "You will not get near my children. Not Calla, and not Harry."

"Very well," Lord Voldemort said, raising his wand with a cruel smile. "I will have what I came for. You will not stop me, silly girl." Lily Potter gritted her teeth as she stood before the crib, holding it tightly with white knuckles. The shadow did not care. "Avada Kedavra!"

Lily Potter fell to the ground, one last thought in her mind: he would not harm her children.

"And now for you, boy," Voldemort hissed, staring at the small child in his crib, holding his sister's hand and sucking on his thumb, beginning to wail. "Avada Kedavra."

This time, there was another flash of green light. Lord Voldemort fell to the ground, and the air swam with electricity and magic, dark magic, foul magic, smothering the two children. Calla began to cry and Harry held her hand tighter, his one year old mind confused by the two bodies laying on the floor. Why was his mummy sleeping, and who was this strange, pale man? Where was their daddy?

A darkness swirled in the air, dancing around Harry and Calla like a galloping horse, before it seeped into Harry's open mouth, into Calla's salty tears.

It was hours before anyone came to find them, a strange man with a hooked nose and greasy man, who definitely wasn't Uncle Moony or Padfoot, or Wormtail, or the funny old man with strange glasses who came over every once in a while. He barely spared the crying girl and the scared boy a second glance as he cradled the cold body of their mother while the children looked on in confusion.

It took a while for the greasy haired man to leave, and as the sun rose on Godric's Hollow, another man burst into the nursery, one with wild hair and a familiar face. Calla and Harry were asleep now, but awoke at the sound of footsteps and looked up. "Moony," he kept saying. "Moony, where are you?"

Little Calla reached out a hand to him, crying, and the man scooped her up, holding her brother, too. "It's alright," he said, but he was crying and shaking and that made them cry, too. "It's alright, Padfoot's got you. Uncle Moony will be here soon, it's all alright."

But it wasn't all alright. They weren't out of the house when Padfoot handed them over, after heated and desperate words, to a very tall, slightly scary man who had a strangely gentle smile as he scooped them up in his ginormous arms, taking them away from this broken house.

September 13th 1986

Calla and Harry stood outside Number Four Privet Drive in school uniforms, hiding behind their cousin Dudley. Dudley was a large boy, appearing especially plump in front of his scrawny cousins. He had on very shiny school shoes and smart trousers, with a hat resting atop his blonde head of hair, and he was looking typically very smug about it all.

"Doesn't he look wonderful, Vernon?" Petunia Dursley cooed, smushing her son's fat red cheeks. "Our little Didykins is all grown up!"

Calla frowned, looking around her with crossed arms. Uncle Remus had said that he would come around for her and Harry's first day of school. He was Calla's godfather, and although he wasn't allowed custody of either twin, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never seemed able to stop his visits.

A car came to a stop behind them in the driveway and Calla turned around, jumping excitedly. "Uncle Remus!" she squealed, running to greet him. "You're late!"

"Calla!" Aunt Petunia scolded. "Don't make a scene like that," she said crossly, but Remus chuckled, kneeling down beside the twins.

"Are you excited for your first day of school, you two?" he asked, and they both nodded. "I loved school. That's where I was friends with your mummy and daddy."

Aunt Petunia coughed. "As always, it is a pleasure to see you, Remus," she said, in a tone that indicated it was never a pleasure to see Remus Lupin. His shabby clothes and scarred face and tired eyes were never a welcome sight in Privet Drive, especially so considering he wasn't allowed to take the children the Dursleys never wanted, away. "But we can't have Dudley being late on his first day because of you and those two."

"Of course," Remus said with a cold politeness. "Mind if I walk down there with you all?"

Uncle Vernon looked like he would mind a lot, but Remus took the hands of both Calla and Harry, gesturing for the rather irritated looking Dursleys to follow them. Calla and Harry grinned at each other from each side of Remus.

School was going to be more fun than Privet Drive. They promised themselves that, at least.

December 25th 1990

"Merry Christmas," Calla sighed as the clock ticked over to morning. The inside of her cupboard was full of spiderwebs and speckles of dirt.

"Merry Christmas, Calla," her brother sighed back, lifting a groggy hand over his eyes. "Do you want a spider as a present?"

"Better than a tissue from the Dursleys," Calla huffed, snuggling closer to her brother. The coldness of midwinter still crept into their bones and Calla shivered despite her closeness to Harry. "What time do you think Uncle Moony'll be round here?"

"I don't know," Harry said, shrugging. "Aunt Petunia said he was coming for tea. I'm not sure if she'll even let him come - he didn't last year."

By the time the clock ticked forwards to five o'clock, Calla was getting anxious. She hadn't seen Uncle Moony in ages, but he'd said that he'd be there, he promised. She and Harry sat at the table, with the smallest and thinnest slices of turkey, gazing hungrily at Dudley's heaped plate. The doorbell rang and Calla jumped up like an excited puppy.

"Uncle Moony!" she squealed as Aunt Petunia opened the door, inviting in her godfather. She ran over quickly what they'd been told; they weren't to mention their cupboard or any punishments they had, and they weren't to worry him or to make a scene about anything.

"Merry Christmas, you two," Uncle Moony said, smiling with his wan face, as Calla went to hug him tightly. "Do you want to see what I've got you two and Dudley?"

They both nodded excitedly, as Uncle Moony produced three wrapped presents. For Dudley, he gave a set of colouring pencils which were tossed aside without even so much as a thank you.

Harry took a large book about history which he gawked at in excitement before engulfing Uncle Moony in a hug. As for Calla, she simply shrieked with excitement when she unwrapped her gift, a full set of the Famous Five novels by Enid Blyton. "Thank you, Uncle Moony!" she cried, jumping up and down with joy.

He smiled at her tiredly, but wouldn't let her or Harry see that tiredness. He was all they had, really, of their parents' world and their friends. In another life perhaps he would have run from that responsibility, but as godfather he had a duty, and he wouldn't see these children sad, or without any connection to the Wizarding World, no matter what Albus Dumbledore had said. So he smiled and said, "I'm glad you like them. No doubt they will be great for your imagination."

Petunia had glared at him at that, but he ignored her. He would have this day with his best friends' children, even if he could have no other.