Dorea Black Potter sat in the solar of Potter manor staring down without seeing at the black family tree. She fills in the blanks with fanciful tales and the polite lies told to cover the burn marks on the actual tapestry. There she was, the youngest daughter of Cygnus Black II. The one passed over as her brother Pollux produced another generation of Blacks.
They never truly mentioned her failure, not in blunt terms at least. Eventually there are questions and helpful useless suggestions. "There are potions to help stabilize the womb dear. Are you sure he treats you well? Ravenclaw's are not known to make the most attentive of husbands." As if she has not already tried every potion on the market and some that haven't made it there yet. And Charlus treats her well. He treats her infuriatingly well. He accepts every life that flutters out of her too soon with quiet dignity. Three children lost in three years. He acts as if there are no stakes at all when she knows that the stakes could not be higher. The Potter line is nearly extinct. Charlus will be end of Ignotus' line she cannot produce an heir. By falling pregnant she has proven that the blame lies with her alone.
Grindelwald rises as a welcome relief. No one looks too closely at an empty cradle when the world is at war. Dorea throws herself into her research. It's always struck her as mere fancy that some muggle children would be blessed out of the clear blue sky with magic. It was a tale too prettily told, especially as their numbers explode ten years after ever major wizarding war. So she peruses Nature's Nobility, looking for secrets and lies. Charlus throws them into philanthropy. It's what men without sons do. If a man's name won't live on in a son it may live on in a venture. It may live on in a cause. The war draws to a close when Albus Dumbledore imprisons Grindelwald at Nurmengard. Charlus says that he can recall when the two were friends, maybe even lovers. Dorea supposes it could be true, there are none as zealous as converts after all.
Ten years pass and Dorea watches as Dumbledore's defeat of Grindelwald is transformed into a different sort of power. His names becomes simultaneous with a curse in many of the old families as they have to fight to keep their power from slipping away. Letters from House Black come fewer and farther in between. In truth Dorea doesn't mind. She supposes that at forty she has become the old aunt that children have to be prodded to write to. It's a pleasure to couple with her husband with the hope of an heir long gone.
When she misses her monthly she assumes that she's going through the change. When the thought of breakfast makes her stomach churn she blames on a lingering flu and takes vials of pepper up potion. As the house elves let out her gowns she resolves to stop giving in to ridiculous cravings and take more exercise. Charlus says nothing but she notices his eyes linger a half second longer than necessary. He won't move beyond kisses and to her this is a disappointment. She's six months along when Charlus hands her a copy of their family tree to look for baby names.
They settle on James. Charlus' grandfather and one the few that still showed any sign of the gift that Slytherin made famous. It's a small homage to the family that's forgotten her. She decides against sending out birth announcements. She's done it three times before and none of those babies ever survived for her to nurse. One month later, two weeks early, this baby does. He has inherited her jet black hair and Charlus' hazel eyes. She denies the house elves the pleasure of raising him alone. One month later she receives a birth announcement for Sirius Black III and picks up a quill to write a response.
