The drawing room buzzed with the joyous noise of musical chaos. Laughter echoed like a melody, harmonizing with the enthusiastic tapping of little hands on the piano keys. The instrument screamed under the relentless onslaught, each note a random wild burst of sound. Three figures were piled on a smooth leather banquette. Sirius sat in the middle, his dark hair falling over his eyes, his shoulders shaking with laughter as if he had never been happier. His children were thrown over him like a living cloak — the mischievous twins. The little legs of a girl and a boy kicked as they happily reached for the instrument. Each wrong note made Black feel genuinely paternal pride, and the dissonance only fueled his joy. The noise continued until a familiar voice came from the hall.

"Darlings, I'm home!"

The piano fell silent as the children shrieked with excitement. The first musician tumbled from Sirius’s lap, landing with a soft thud, while the second pigtailed maestro scrambled down and raced toward the door.

"Mummy! Mummy!" — the younger Blacks cried in unison, their voices full of delight.

Sirius looked after them with exaggerated despair, clutching his chest as though mortally wounded.

"And now poor father is completely abandoned!"

{{user}} stepped through the doorway, her eyes skimming the scene. Sheets of sheet music covered the floor, as if the parquet were overgrown with musical moss from re-mi-fa-sol-la-ti. The piano seemed ready to collapse beneath the ground. Mrs. Black arched an eyebrow at her husband, who grinned unapologetically. {{user}} leaned down, gathering the twins into a warm embrace. She kissed their ruddy cheeks, fingering the boy's dark curls and the girl's soft hair.

"Creative Composition," — Sirius announced with a flourishing gesture toward the chaos. — "Black’s Symphony. A masterpiece of unrestrained genius. You like it?"