"So go to Remus's bed," he grumbled and then immediately added, "but just for
sleep."
"I can't," she said, laughing quietly. "If I go to Remus right now, he'll smell Sirius
all over me, and that's not a conversation I want to have with my territorial, werewolf
boyfriend at five in the morning."
James grimaced. "You canines and your smells."
"Vulpine," she corrected him and grinned when he swatted at her. "Although,
speaking of which.. ." She leant over and rubbed her cheek against her brother's with a
smirk. Like Padfoot would do in the grass on a warm summer day, Mia rolled over in
James's bed, rubbing her hair against the side of his face as he struggled against her.
"What the hell? Gerroff me! Go rub Sirius's scent off on someone else!" he
demanded, wrapping his blankets tightly around his body before turning away from her.
"That's right, I know what you were doing. The three of you are disgusting."
"I love you, Jamie," she said on the edge of a laugh.
"Love you, Mia."
The sun broke over the horizon, and despite not getting much sleep with James
snoring as well as tossing and turning in the bed—once accidentally elbowing her in the
neck—Mia woke eager to start the day.
Yawning, she entered the dining room to see her mother pleasantly picking through
a bowl of fruit, setting aside the blueberries and grapes for her father, despite the fact that
he was not even there. Dorea had been doing it for years. Mia recalled once asking her
mother why she didn't just ask Tilly to leave the berries and grapes out of her breakfast for
the mornings that Charlus was not there to pick at her dish. Dorea's simple answer was:
"Continuity, dear."
"Morning, Mum." Mia kissed her mother's cheek in greeting, taking her seat to
Dorea's left and reaching for a piece of toast.
"Good morning, Mia." Dorea beamed at her daughter. "You look less than well-
rested and yet positively delightful. Care to indulge an old woman with the sordid tales of
youth?" She rose a brow, and Mia could immediately see a vision of a young Dorea Black,