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IT WAS A CHILLY OCTOBER EVENING AND THE SKY WAS PINK AS THE SUN BEGAN TO SET. Typical nights like these didn't seem haunting, despite the chill in the air and the eeriness that settled in their bones. In truth, they seemed almost serene, completely opposite to what was truly happening in the real world.
Sirius and Remus were at James and Lily's house in Godric's Hollow with their young daughter, Elara. The war itself was at a low, gradually settling though tensions were still high, especially as the number of friends they had to bury was growing. Just weeks prior, they had buried Dorcas, before that Marlene.
Elara herself was a happy baby. She was oblivious, thankfully, to the threats of the death eaters, content in her baby mind where all that mattered were the people she saw every day. It wasn't hard to forget that there were atrocities being committed as they sat comfortably, especially because of Elara's big puffy cheeks and loud gurgles. The young baby sat on the ground with James and Lily's young boy, Harry, almost aggressively smashing blocks against the ground, babbling nonsense that only Harry seemed to understand. The marauders and Lily all looked at the two children who were products of war.
Harry, sweet Harry, was just an innocent baby who was being hunted aggressively by you-know-who, and Elara was victimised by a werewolf who had mauled her parents to death whilst she was asleep in her cot. The only reason she wasn't dead was because Lily and James Potter had saved her right before the feral beast could pounce on her. Both of these children were innocent victims of war, too young to even grasp the concept of the first wizarding war.
For a moment Godric's Hollow seemed peaceful, innocent. It felt as though a war was not raging on and it was as though the entire world was just Elara and Harry. These few moments filled the group of young adults with hope that this would soon be their life. That their children would get to grow in a healthier environment where their parents weren't worried all the time.
"Uncle Pwongs!!" Elara giggled as her godfather lifted her into the air. Elara absolutely adored her 'Uncle Pwongs'. Her pronunciation of words wasn't particularly good, though she was a baby and so it was to be expected. James knew he would miss her small baby lisp, especially as she grew up. He was totally and utterly enamored by Elara and her existence, awfully protective of the little girl he happily called his niece. Sometimes, he'd joke to Sirius about how she was practically his daughter. Of course, that was just soft banter and James knew the betrayal he felt when Sirius decided to tease James and dress Harry, James' son, in a dog outfit. Ever since then, it was a running joke about whether James or Sirius was Elara's dad, although James would always remain 'uncle pwongs'.
