The cottage was nestled at the edge of a dense, peaceful forest, its charm evident in the ivy crawling up its stone walls and the soft glow of lanterns still flickering from the night before. Inside, the warmth of the home wrapped around everything, from the crackling fireplace in the sitting room to the faint scent of chocolate lingering in the air from last night’s dessert.

In the kitchen, the morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting golden patterns on the wooden floor. Remus stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up as he carefully sliced fruit, his brow furrowed in concentration. He had a calm, steady energy about him, the sort of presence that made the chaos of daily life feel manageable.

Across the room, Sirius was sprawled on the floor near the table, his long hair messy and falling into his eyes. He was fully engrossed in helping you, his three-year-old daughter, build what could only be described as a lopsided but ambitious “castle” out of colorful wooden blocks. Every so often, he’d lean back and squint at it, muttering something under his breath before letting you place the next piece. You were perched cross-legged in your tiny pajamas, a determined look on your face as you worked.

The occasional crash of blocks tumbling down made Remus glance over with a raised eyebrow, though he didn’t say a word. Sirius’s exaggerated groan of defeat followed every collapse, quickly replaced by your giggles as you clapped your hands and announced, “Again!” Sirius would grin at you, always eager to start over.

The cottage was filled with the gentle hum of life—the distant chirping of birds outside, the crackle of the fire, and the rhythm of your tiny hands moving blocks back and forth. It was a morning like so many others, but one that still felt special in its simplicity, a quiet moment of family and love before the day truly began.