The Tale of Blotter and Plack
Prologue:
Waiting Room, Blishwick"s Medical Centre for Expectant Mothers
31 July, 1980.
The weather was rather unsettled that month. The two men in the room peered at the sky intermittently but caught no sight of the sun. The bespectacled, messy-haired one sighed. This isn't how summer ought to be, he groused. As if he had voiced the thought aloud, the second man, with long dark hair and a handsome, if haughty face shot him a rueful look. "It seems Dumbledore was right, after all. He's got the Dementors on his side. Only a few, though, by the looks of it. If Azkaban's been compromised, the Isles would be frigid by now and most of us would be soulless quivering husks." He grinned at his words, though the other man did not look too amused.
"Mr. Prongs would like Mr. Padfoot to know that his sense of humour is far too macabre for anyone's liking."
"Mr. Padfoot respectfully reminds Mr. Prongs that said gentleman has no sense of humour whatsoever."
"Mr. Prongs advises Mr. Padfoot to bear in mind that he has a son on the way, is therefore highly nervous and that Mr. Padfoot can stuff his sorry excuses for jokes well up his you-know-where."
"Mr. Padfoot would like to ask when Mr. Prongs stopped swearing."
"Mr. Prongs wants him to remember that Mrs. Prongs has a sense of hearing more acute than Mr. Moony and sadly does not believe in the appropriate embellishment of language."
"Mr. Padfoot finally understands the reason his hair turned blue when Mrs. Prongs developed a taste for salty herring and peanut butter."
"Saying 'bloody buggering hell' was not a good idea, Sirius. There was an ex-Head Girl in the room and one at the mercies of her hormones." "You were there too, ex-Bighead Boy." "Details, details" grinned James Potter, flapping his hands wildly. "Besides, I swear like a wounded pirate".
"Flesh wounds?" queried Sirius Black with a face far too innocent to be believed. "Nah, the kind where you're shopping for the peg leg and have to kill your parrot because he won't stop making Long John Silver jokes"*. "Eh?" "Muggle book, called Treasure Island. Lily likes it."
Sirius grunted his acknowledgement and the men lapsed into comfortable silence, broken occasionally by the padding of feet when either of them paced around for a few minutes before plopping back on the couches. James Potter, soon to be a father, he thought. The idea sounded more than good, it sounded right. James was his best friend, his brother in all but blood. When he'd married Lily Evans straight out of school, Sirius had gained a sister, a sister who'd hexed him six ways to Sunday all through school but one he loved nevertheless. It was also worth mentioning that James' parents had effectively taken him on as a second son when Sirius was sixteen and had run away from home after a falling out with his bigoted, pure-blood supremacist family.
Sirius was jolted out of his musings when the mediwitch entered the room, slightly flustered. "Lord Potter!" she called out. "Your wife's about to have the baby!" James shot to his feet, not even bothering to go through his usual "James, please" at the mention of his title and darted in. Within a moment, he doubled back and beckoned to Sirius to join him. Sirius was about to rise but the mediwitch insisted that only James be present. He would've snuck into the room in his Animagus form, that of a great black dog (appropriately named Padfoot) but such infractions were barely above the pale in the Hogwarts infirmary and would've seen him kicked out most ignominiously here. He'd just have to wait until Prongs Junior made his way out into the world. Too bad patience was never his strongest suit.
As Sirius speculated on the names Lily would be calling James (arrogant toerag was the most likely), his attention settled on a Healer by the door, a trainee judging from how old she looked. She was carrying a bundle in her arms and looked like she was facing the Grim. The thought made him look down to check that he hadn't transformed instinctively under stress. He was quite relieved to find all his limbs still in their human shape and raised one coal-black brow at the Healer. "Is something the matter, Healer… Fall?" he read off the metal badge pinned to the front of her robes. She nodded nervously but didn't seem to be able to continue. Sirius' exasperation reared its head and he intoned "Well?" in a tone that left the Healer stuttering even more. "Someone's left a baby at the entrance, Mr. Black" she squeaked.
Despite himself, Sirius felt his lips curve. "I'm pants at babysitting, I'll have you know. Do find someone else to hold the sprog, will you?" he asked. "Uh, that's not what I meant, Mr. Black" said the healer, looking as if he'd bite her any moment. "Then perhaps you'd mind cutting to the chase and telling me what the fuss is all about?" asked Sirius, who was by now thoroughly sick of it all. "We did a Lineage Test to find out who the baby's parents were and how she could've possibly ended up here, Mr. Black. The maternal side was entirely masked, sir. It was almost as if they knew we'd perform the test and specifically didn't want us to find out the mother's identity" the Healer was almost wringing her hands and Sirius wondered why a strange sense of foreboding was stealing over him. The Healer evidently thought that blurting the words out in one go was the best course of action and squeaked "You're the father, Mr. Black".
A suffocating silence enclosed the room and the very air seemed to weigh heavier on Sirius. For a second, he thought he'd heard the Healer entirely wrong, but her expectant look dashed his hopes. Expectant, he thought wryly. What does she think I'll say, Hoorah, I'm a father? For Merlin's sake, I don't even know who the mother is, if she can be unmasked, that is. For that matter, how the bloody hell did she know I'd be here? His thoughts spiralled in an entirely different direction from his supposed fatherhood. James and Lily picked Blishwick because St. Mungo's is too much of a security risk. If the one who sent the baby knew where I am, this poses even more danger to them. We have to get out of here, now, and with the baby. We might be able to find the mother with her, later.
Whipping out his wand, Sirius performed several Hit Wizard-level checks for tracking charms, hidden portkeys and other sources of danger the baby's apparel might pose. Finding none, he asked the Healer, "How old is she?" "A week old, sir" said the Healer. "Too young to Apparate with, then" he muttered. He picked up the baby, ignoring the Healer's startled cry at his abruptness and barged into the ward. He was greeted by a beaming James with "Meet your godson, Padfoot" and an ecstatic, if tired Lily. He ignored James" question of "What's with the bundle?" and asked the Healer, "Is Lily healthy?" "Yes, sir." "The baby?" "He's fine, Mr. Black." Turning to James he barked, "Someone knows we're here. Emergency Portkey home, now!" Lily gasped, but James turned sombre and held out a length of rope. They all took hold of it as James cried "Sanctuary!" and the rope began to glow blue. Three adults and two babies vanished, leaving a very confused mediwitch behind in the room.
The little group landed in the living room of the flat James and Sirius had shared for a year after graduation, and which Sirius now lived in alone. It was a good-sized apartment and now filled with all the signs of the charming profligacy which so characterized Sirius; motorcycle helmet on the coffee table, a half-filled crystal tumbler and decanter on the sideboard and a stack of Playwizard magazines on the leather sofa. Sirius waved his wand in a long, sweeping motion, banishing everything smoothly to a corner. He turned to James, who was holding a rather nauseous looking Lily up and supporting his son and asked, "Evans OK?"
Lily sat down gently on the sofa and said "I'll be fine, Sirius. Oh, and it's Potter, now" she smiled faintly.
Sirius was too preoccupied in his thoughts to even register his slip, much less laugh about it. He frowned to himself and transfigured the coffee table into a crib. Laying the second baby down, he turned to the Potters and told them the story from beginning to end. James' Hit Wizard-trained side fully agreed with all Sirius had said, and he ran a second set of diagnostics over the baby. Once she was declared safe, they turned to the more pressing question of her identity.
"We don't know how much of what Fall told you was true. She could have been Imperiused and ordered to relay this story to you, Sirius. Hang on a moment, there's one set of possibilities we can rule out at this moment; whether or not she's part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight" James sat up straighter and summoned the Potter family ritual bowl to himself. He picked up the bowl and the ceremonial dagger, handed it to Sirius and said, "One drop in the bowl, Padfoot". Sirius walked over to the baby and gingerly pricked her finger, to which the tot screamed blue murder. Wincing at the output from such an impressive pair of lungs, Sirius idly wondered if she was part banshee. There's a good chance she's Black, though; my dear, sweet mum used exactly that volume on me, he thought and let the drop of blood slide into the bowl.
Golden mist surged upwards in a cloud, a testament to the current generation of Potters' alignment with the Light. It had never turned black, the sign of the Dark, but had glowed silver, for magical neutrality for more than a few Lord Potters before. It surrounded the baby in the crib, testing her ancestry, pushing against her magic, seeking her roots. The mist turned silver and emitted sparks furiously. As abruptly as it had arisen, it vanished into the bowl, leaving silver letters hanging in mid-air.
Line Heir, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, it read. Sirius' heart dropped to the vicinity of his trainers as he read the words forming further, a spidery tree that he knew all too well, having seen it displayed proudly in the London townhouse his family owned.
Daughter of Sirius Orion Black and… it drew a blank there, something he had never seen before. The mother's not a Muggle, then. It takes an uncommonly powerful witch to hide family magic. "Padfoot, who've you slept with a year back who was this powerful? As far as I can recall, your usual types are twittering birds who haven't two brain cells to rub together but possess rather large … assets" said an astonished James. "Hang on, you never did tell me who you were with on that stake-out in Bulgaria. Could it be her?" "No" said Sirius slowly, " Bulgaria was this Spanish Hit-Wizard, Andres Cambron and I know there was no one else".
As if on cue, both babies began to wail in tandem and James, Lily and Sirius flinched at the noise. A frazzled Lily took her son away to nurse, and Sirius was left pondering the dilemma of his new-found fatherhood while trying to preserve his eardrums. He gingerly picked up the baby and nestled her into the crook of his arm. Her wails slowly subsided to a sniffling hiccup, and he turned to look at James, who was watching him with a grin. "Fatherhood suits you, Padfoot" he snickered. "Git" grumbled Sirius idly. He was in a rather unusual state. As a Hit-Wizard and a member of the Order of the Phoenix, he had commitments that he hadn't made with such an eventuality in mind. Of course, he could hand the baby over to one of his rather numerous relatives, but there was no way in hell that he would wish such doom, er, upbringing on anyone, no matter how much he hated them. Of course, he could always make exceptions for the blonde peacock his cousin Narcissa had married, and Snivellus Snape was in a league of his own, but still… Ah, well, a bloke could dream, couldn't he?
Sirius mused silently, while Lily fed her son and his daughter, then put them to sleep. In blissful contrast to her screaming display, the baby went to sleep in quite an angelic fashion, for which Sirius was grateful. The night passed slowly, with James and Sirius looking after two infants while Lily alternated between feeding and resting. As the morning sunshine streamed into the flat, Sirius made his decision after a night's hard thinking. It wasn't one he liked in the slightest, but he didn't have too many options to choose from, either.
"I'm resigning from the Order and from the DMLE, at least 'til she's older. Uncle Alphard left me a tidy sum when I got blasted off the tree; it should be enough to support both of us for a while" announced Sirius at breakfast. "Don't be daft, Sirius" said James blearily, poking around with his cereal, "we'd like to take care of her for you".
"Mate, you can't" began Sirius, only to be overruled.
"The Healers said that trying for another baby is going to be really hard" said James. "Frankly, I'm surprised we were able to have Harry so early, Mum and Dad had given up hopes of a child when I came along. Lily always wanted more than one, and now we have a second child to help raise, if not bear. Look" he growled, seeing that Sirius was about to object again, "I'm Lord Potter, and you're a son of House Potter. I don't want to push it, Padfoot, but I'll invoke Headship if I must". Sirius knew when he was defeated and agreed to James' plan despite his misgivings. "Thank you, brother" said James, sincerely.
Sirius started. This had to be one of James' flashes of intuition. It often took him down paths that seemed unnerving but had never failed yet. Not for the first time, he wondered if there was Seer blood in James. The previous Lady Potter, Euphemia, was from India and had moved to Britain when she was a child, so he didn't know enough about her ancestry. The lessons in wizarding genealogy that his parents had drilled into him never hinted at clairvoyance on the Potter side. He attributed the uncanny ability Uncle Monty had in detecting mischief to a side effect of raising James. "So" he said, "Harry, eh?"
"Mm-hm, Harry James Potter" said Lily. "Harry after Monty's father Henry. Quite a sight to behold in the Wizengamot, apparently. Anyways, what d'you want to call her?" she asked, gesturing to the baby in the crib.
" Something to do with a star, yet not the more ridiculous names people in my family seem to favour. I nearly got called Procyon, you know" he shuddered.
"How about Electra?" said James cheekily.
"I'm not naming my sprog after my motorcycle, thanks" said Sirius heatedly, but the damage had already been done. Lily had perked up at the mention of the name, and would no doubt launch into the significance and the mythology behind it. All Sirius knew was that Electra was part of the Pleiades and thus, a star. He was excellent at Astronomy, not History, magical or mythical. He could pinpoint the cluster with precision but didn't give two hoots as to who the nymph had fathered and with which god. In truth, it was a name that would check off all the right boxes. Cool enough for Muggles and traditional enough for pure-bloods. All that was needed now was a middle name. "Electra Lily Black. What do you think?"
"Athena's a nicer middle name" said Lily.
"Honestly, you get the weirdest ideas, Lily" sniggered James, but gained a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Athena would be crazy, but it's a tribute to McGonagall for putting up with the Marauders, so yeah, I agree with Lily."
Sirius couldn't argue with that, and the world was graced with the screams of the newly named (and hungry) Harry James Potter and Electra Athena Black.
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Nor do I own The Dilbert Principle. Life has dealt me a singularly hard hand (sniffs).