"Mama, we're tired." Minerva sighed with a hint of frustration in her tone, but nevertheless, smiled at her daughters and picked each up, waking to their room and gently placing both in bed, as if porcelain dolls. "Sleep." It was hard to tear herself away from the bedside, staring at those soft cheeks and features, the innocence written all over her little girls' face. Nothing like their father, Minerva thought. Moody was a grumpy, irritated and paranoid maniac from the moment he lost his eye, but could she blame him? These were dark times, and Minerva had to put up every defensive shield if she wanted to survive. She remembered when it was better, and especially the days when Alastor was kinder, less prone to anger.
Before the attack, he was quite handsome, with hazel hue orbs, milky white skin and curly, fair hair. The cherry on top was his broad shoulders, bright smile and his height, of which was an advantage to being an Auror. But he was no longer the same gentleman who'd charmed her in her early twenties, and they decided it was for the best that their decade-long relationship came to an end. The last kiss was bittersweet, and it still stung. Now, all Minnie had were two pieces of him, shining through like slivers of the moon between trees. Her little girls, Cecelia and Agatha. Cece was not a carbon copy of her father; she had Minerva's midnight black hair, and emerald eyes that were almond shaped. Her skin was a tone darker than her egg pale father, and she held a happy, bubbly sound to her voice. But she had her father's accent and quick temper. It was stupid, but it made Minerva's heart warm. Agatha had her father's hazel eyes, and curly fair hair. But, she was more calm, and level headed, and quick with a comeback. "Night, loves."
