New warning: mpreg (because I forgot it last chapter, oops). This would have been up earlier except my friend arrived to pick me up. We went to see 'Water For Elephants'. I liked it.

Words: 3,682

Chapter 2/4

Sirius heard them before he saw them.

Four Aurors were walking towards his cell, their feet scuffling against the floor as they dragged somebody between them. That somebody was laughing, hissing threats and insults at them, and struggling to break free of their hold. The sounds of their movements, the rustling of their clothing and their feet scrapping along the dirty floor, captured Sirius' attention before he had even caught a glimpse of Azkaban's newest resident.

It must have been someone interesting, Sirius thought, someone dangerous. Most of the regular Death Eaters that had been captured had been enclosed in another part of the prison. Sirius' sector was reserved for the Dark Lord's most loyal; the most dangerous; the most vicious. Sirius wondered what the man had done, for it was a man, and not a very old one Sirius concluded just from the timbre of the prisoner's voice. And then he came into view and Sirius couldn't stop himself from gaping at the sight.

It was his old boss's son! Bartemius Jr, Barty's son. Barty Sr. had been head of the Auror Division, and the last time Sirius had seen him the elder Wizard had been planning to run for Minister. How could his son be a Death Eater? The Crouch family was a good family, a Light to neutral family, there had never been a Dark Wizard in their line, ever. Barty himself had proudly proclaimed as such at every possible opportunity, and again after Sirius' capture because of course Sirius hailed from a long line of Dark Wizards and it was to be expected that eventually he would betray those he loved.

His hands clenched at his sides, as he remembered. He didn't like to think about that time. It had barely been a month, or maybe it had been two? Sirius spent the majority of his time in his Animagus form and so the days tended to blur together, nothing significant ever happened unless you counted the Dementors visiting him daily, sometimes twice a day and sometimes not at all, to confuse him or throw him completely off of his day count, until he was disorientated and dazed and unsure how long exactly he had been trapped within his hell.

His cell door swung open, and Sirius snapped himself out of his reminiscing, narrowing his eyes at the waiting Aurors.

"Other cells are full," one Wizard spat at him, mouth turned down. "Afraid you'll have to share, scum."

"You know what they say?" Another asked as he bodily shoved Barty Jr into the cell. "Birds of a feather, and all." They locked the cell again, turning their back on the two prisoners and walking away. They left them there, abandoned, ignored even as Bartemius screamed after them, proclaiming his innocence.

"That won't work. I've tried it myself." Sirius murmured at his cell mate. The boy was on his knees, facing Sirius but with his head hanging now. He couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen; nineteen, Sirius remembered, having heard the father boasting on his son's last birthday. "What did you do anyway?"

"Went looking for the Dark Lord," Barty whispered. His arm came up and he rubbed at his face and his runny nose with the back of his dirty sleeve. "They tricked me. They said that Longbottom would know where our Lord was," he said, because he thought that Sirius was likewise a Death Eater, "but they didn't. And I got caught with them, while they tortured Longbottom and his wife. I didn't do it though, but they wouldn't listen. My father wouldn't listen." His lips curled back into a sneer, and he looked up at Sirius and met his grey eyes steadily. "My Lord was more of a father to me than my father ever was. When did you join our cause?" Barty whispered eyes wide with curiosity.

"I didn't." Sirius told him softly, simply. "I really am innocent." He changed then, shifting bone and flesh and muscle into the shape of a large black Grim. The animal walked slowly back to the corner of the cell that it had claimed as its bedroom, the robe that Sirius had been wearing during his arrest was thrown haphazardly onto the floor. The trousers he had been wearing moments ago was dragged along in the Grim's mouth and dumped on top of the robe. Sirius sat on top of the clothes, nuzzling them until they were pulled half over him.

When the Dementors came, Barty was still watching Sirius in curious silence and Sirius was half-hidden beneath the pile of clothing and half-protected by his currently animal mind. Barty wasn't so lucky.

Within the first minute, the boy was screaming and begging and crying. Sirius watched him out of the one eye that wasn't obscured by his trouser leg, feeling a mix of pity and satisfaction at the child's suffering; this child, who still served the man who had murdered Sirius' real family. But who was still a child. Bartemius screamed for his mother continuously those first few days, wailing and pleading inconsolably, uncontrollably, and Sirius refused to change back into a human. The guards never came to feed them because the Dementors refused to leave their newest plaything, and none of them noticed the lack of Sirius Black within his cell.

It hadn't even been a week before Barty finally grew silent and solemn. He still cried when the Dementors passed by, but when the screams stopped the Dementors mostly lost interest in him.

Until the day Barty's mother came to visit him. Sirius huddled at the back of the cell, human and gaunt-looking, and Barty was too busy desperately trying to fit himself through the bars of the cell so that he could hug his mother to mention anything about Sirius' secret abilities. His mother had loved him, still did, that much was obvious. But then Bartemius Sr. appeared, his face marred by a scowl and his body tense and he calmly pulled his wife away from their only child, who had once more begun to cry and beg, wailing for mercy, pleading his innocence, only to be ignored. His father turned towards him, mouth open, just as Sirius shuffled forward, pulling Barty back against his chest. He rocked the teenager, the child who had been condemned to suffer forever for caring about someone other than his real family, the way Sirius had always thought of the elder Potters' as his true parents. Barty calmed down in his arms, clinging desperately to Sirius' neck and shoulders, crying silently against his cheek. The Witch looked at them, heartbroken and with tears in her eyes, but her husband merely scowled harder, closed his mouth and dragged her out of view.

Sirius found that holding the boy helped calm him immensely. So, now, whenever the Dementors passed and Barty started screaming, the Grim would shuffle forward, large enough to wrap himself around Barty when the man was curled up on himself. A paw would land on Barty's shoulder, and the boy would twist and turn until his face was pressed to the dog's throat, and he would hold on tightly, shaking and sobbing until the Dementors lost interest and passed them by.

It was Yule when things between them changed: exactly two months after the Potters' had been killed, three weeks after Barty had arrived. They slept on separate sides of the cell usually, unless the Dementors were around in which case they huddled together, Sirius attempting to protect the younger Wizard, telling himself that if it was Harry in Barty's position that he would want someone, anyone, to protect his godson. He told himself Barty's mother would appreciate the gesture, the attempt even though Sirius couldn't do much, and even though Sirius should hate this Death Eater with everything in him, he couldn't help but see someone's child, someone who was loved. Like Harry should have been.

The very human Sirius lay on the ground, his trousers folded beneath his head and his robes thrown over him like a blanket. Barty had seen him naked plenty of times after a shift from Grim to human and so Sirius had stopped feigning modesty, not that he had had much to begin with anyway. Barty was a little more humble, choosing to keep all of his clothes on at all times, curling on the ground in a ball and shivering from the cold with nothing to use as a blanket. Sirius had pitied him, considered offering to share, and then pushed the thought away. There was only so much he could bring himself to do for an enemy.

Barty stood, legs trembling with nerves, and he walked the few inches towards Sirius before sinking to his knees at his side. "I got an Outstanding in Defence Against the Dark Arts, you know."

"I know." Sirius whispered in the dark. "Your dad used to brag about what a genius you were."

Barty was silent for a moment, obviously unsure whether or not to believe it to be true. His father had always been too busy working to spend time with his son, even when Barty was very young, and to know his father was still proud of him, should it change anything, he wondered? No, his father had still sent him here. His father had still abandoned him. Sirius Black, Auror, self-appointed Light Wizard, had been the only person to try and help him.

"Dementors can't stand happy emotions, you know." His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and despite not being able to see clearly, Sirius still stared. "Certain Light magics leave a presence, a taint in the air, I suppose. Like the Patronus, once cast a Dementor won't be able to return to that specific area for at least twenty-four hours because the taint will linger in the area, warding them even though the magic itself has dissipated. Sometimes it's longer depending on the spell."

"Why are you telling me this? We can't use magic here."

"Not wand magic, no," Barty agreed quietly. He lay down beside Sirius, face to face with the Wizard two years his senior, the brother of his only school friend. "But sex magic doesn't require a wand."

Sirius was on his feet in an instant. His hands were balled at his sides and he stared in horror at Barty who merely shifted so that he was lying in the middle of Sirius' pile of ragged clothing.

"What the hell!" Sirius hissed, eyes narrowing.

"You're attractive, you know, and I've been told I'm very pretty on occasion. Surely you could simply pretend I was a girl, or close your eyes, simply to save us both suffering further? We needn't even have penetrative sex to use the magic. Merely a kiss or two if we put enough feeling into it." He was on his feet too then, pushing Sirius back, against the wall and pressing himself closer and closer until there was no space between them. Sirius shoved him backwards, but Barty struggled, pushing closer. Then their lips met, Barty's were desperate and needy and Sirius was insulting the child into his mouth, still trying to push him away, but Barty's desperation made him stronger. Adrenaline surged through his being, empowering him, and he moaned against Sirius' mouth, arms coming up to cling to the man who had tried to protect him repeatedly.

Sirius felt something tingling across his skin, feather-lite but intense, and he reacted instinctively. He shoved Barty away from him, knocking him to the floor, and breathed a sigh of relief as the magic instantly dissipated. The tingling feeling stopped, and Barty looked up at him, cheeks flushed and panting with a wide smirk on his swollen lips.

And just like Barty had said, the Dementors avoided their cell until very late the following evening. For just under twenty hours they were left in peace.

XXX

It was nearing the end of January when they first slept together. They had gotten used to the Dementors leaving them alone for hours at a time after they shared furious kisses, and then for days after Barty had pinned Sirius down and happily sucked him to orgasm.

"I want the peace to last longer. Please!" Barty had begged, eyes hooded and a blush staining his cheeks. "And it would give us more happy memories," he murmured, ignoring Sirius' snort at the words, "also… well, there are worse people to lose my virginity to. Imagine if I got lumped into a cell with one of the others? I could guess it wouldn't be as pleasant." He turned his face away, ignoring the way Sirius was staring at him.

Virgin?

The word rocketed through Sirius' brain, loud and continuous. He had been barely more than a child when he had been thrown into Azkaban and at Hogwarts Barty had been a brilliant student but a quiet boy who had kept to himself. He only had Regulus as a friend, and Sirius knew for a fact that his brother was straight, so his only friend couldn't have been Barty's lover. He had never been seen with any of the girls in the school either. None of the other boys spoke to him outside of classes. It would be possible, almost completely truthful, but the idea of Sirius being his first, regardless of whether Barty was lying or not made something coil and clench within his stomach. Unable to stop himself, Sirius surged forward, pinning Barty against the cell wall and kissed him.

It was the first time Sirius had seen the boy naked. He was beautiful, almost feminine, with a slim torso and waist and long, shapely legs, but his cock stood to attention proudly, most definitely male.

Sirius kissed him again, this time hovering over him as Barty lay spread out across the dirty floor.

"This will hurt," Sirius told him after spiting into his hand and using the saliva to prepare the boy's entrance, stretching the hole wider and wider until Barty was thrashing and begging for more.

"Now," Barty demanded, his breath coming in short pants. And then Sirius was pushing against him, into him, and his breath caught completely, expelling as a short, pained moan as Sirius buried himself completely within his arse. "Oh!" Barty gasped, body tense, his back throbbing lightly already, and he fought against the instinct to push Sirius off of him. He had asked for this after all.

Sirius moved, pulling back slowly and pushing in again. Barty gave a soft cry as Sirius' cock dragged lightly against his prostate, and again, and again, until Barty was seeing stars. The teenager clung tightly to his lover – a lover, he had a lover now, he had someone who wanted him and cared about him perhaps, though not as much as Barty had grown to care about Sirius – moaning and thrusting in time with each of Sirius' movements. When they came, they came together, clinging to one another and gasping the others' names, sinking to the floor in a tangle of limbs and mingled breaths.

The Dementors didn't come that night, or the night after, but that didn't stop Sirius from pinning Barty back down on the floor again. Even without the threat of the Dementors visiting them, Sirius hurriedly undressed the teenager the next night. He prepared him and took him, spread out on the floor of their Azkaban cell, while the other prisoners listened to their cries.

XXX

Bartemius had been getting sick for a while before Sirius begun to understand what was happening. A week of vomiting was normal considering the food they served in the hellhole; Sirius himself had gotten sick his first week in Azkaban, from hunger and dehydration and then from the moldy, rotten taste of the food he was eventually given. But after three weeks of continuous sickness, beginning in February and continuing into March, Sirius had started to worry.

"Do you have any other symptoms?" He asked, rubbing a hand lightly over Barty's narrow back. In his mind's eye, he could see James doing the same thing to Lily as she hovered above the kitchen sink one morning, just before they told him about Harry. "Tenderness on your chest or your stomach? Cramps? Sore ankles? Dizziness? Anything?"

"Yes," Barty wheezed, wiping his mouth in disgust. "All of them, but how did you know?" He turned, looking curious and also afraid. "Is there something wrong with me?" His skin was pale and sweaty, but as Sirius looked at him, thought about what was happening to Barty, what was growing inside of Barty more specifically, he couldn't help but think that the Death Eater (Dark Mark and all) was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"You're pregnant," he said simply, running a hand through his matted hair.

Barty's mouth dropped open. He closed it, frowned, and then said, "But I'm in Azkaban! And we're not married!" His hands moved to clasp over his stomach, and he watched Sirius with wide eyes. "They'll take the baby from us," he whispered after a moment, looking mournful.

"Better that than force you to abort it," Sirius told him, scowling. "We'll have to hide it for as long as possible. They can't keep us here forever, eventually one of us will get out and find the baby, and they won't send the child anywhere it'll be hurt. They won't blame the child for its parentage, the baby will be safe and loved and we'll find them eventually."

"And they'll exist," Barty agreed. He reached forward, squeezing Sirius' hand before placing both of his back over his belly. "Are you excited? I think I'm excited. I never thought I'd want children."

"I think I'm in shock," Sirius said with a chuckle, shaking his head lightly. "But yeah, I think I'm glad this happened. No, I know I am. I'm just disappointed we won't be the ones to raise him or her."

XXX

When the baby came, he was almost three months early, born on the 31st of July at one minute to midnight.

"Harry was born then," Sirius whispered, as he held the child against his chest, "that's my godson's name."

Barty was lying on the floor, his head in Sirius' lap. They had called for help, and three guards had rushed towards them, hearing the screaming and then the silence before the wailing of a baby broke it. Children didn't happen in Azkaban, although there had been one woman twenty years ago who had died giving birth alone in her cell. But Bartemius had been lucky, the child was premature and smaller than he should have been, and the labour was easy, but now the baby needed help. The guards watched in stunned silence, eyes on the whimpering bundle in Sirius' arms. Barty had stroked his son's cheek after the birth, tracing his small face and waiting for his eyes to open, before handing him to his father for naming.

"Cepheus Bartemius Black," Sirius had said, deciding at last what to name his son. "He's going to be a heartbreaker when he's older." Barty had closed his eyes, a frown on his face at the thought that he wouldn't be there to see it or to watch his son grow, but he knew giving him up was the only way. Cepheus would die if he stayed in Azkaban: he needed a Healer and potions and magic to help him develop outside of Barty's body. And Azkaban was no place for a child.

The guards took the baby, wrapped in Barty's shirt, and locked the cell door behind them.

Barty was brought out for a quick medical examination, but by the time he was brought back hours had passed by. There was something different about him; something wrong with him. He was sweating and shaking, whereas before he had only been tired. And he kept mumbling to himself as he lay upon the floor, staring wildly around the cell.

"I have a grandson," he whispered, looking up at Sirius' with watery, glazed eyes. "You gave me a grandson."

Eyes closing in realization, Sirius cursed himself for noticing Bartemius Sr. hovering in the background behind the guards and not being more suspicious. Whoever this was, this wasn't Barty. Barty was gone, hopefully free, and this person was dying in his place. Perhaps the child had gone with them, to be loved and cared for by his real family, his mother and grandfather. But Sirius doubted it. Taking in the child of two supposed Death Eaters didn't seem like the kind of thing Crouch Sr. would do.

XXX

Petunia Dursley nee Evans opened her front door three days later.

Cepheus had been released from St Mungos into Albus Dumbledore's care, after the man produced a forged letter from a Muggle hospital claiming that the child was Harry Potter, his legal ward. The boy had been born at the same time on the same date as Harry Potter, only two years later. In Albus' mind, that couldn't have been a coincidence.

Petunia glanced down at the sleeping bundle of a new-born child. There was a note pinned to the blanket he was wrapped in, and under his head someone had tucked Barty's tattered shirt.

Lily's son, the letter had said. Very ill, very delicate, it had added, and Petunia could see that. But there was no way it could be her nephew. He was too young, and it had been stupid of those Wizards to believe that a woman who had borne her own child wouldn't recognize that this child was not two years old. He could barely be a week old, if that, Petunia thought with a scowl.

Her sister had been dead for years. And so had her child.

But Petunia gathered the baby into her arms anyway and carried him inside. Hopefully he was a normal child. And even if he wasn't, he was still a helpless baby. For now, she would take care of him, because he wasn't Lily's, because he wasn't James': he just was.

XXX

Some of the Barty information was 'misinterpreted' from Sirius' talk with Harry, Ron and Hermione in Goblet of Fire. But, obviously, this is AU.

Also, Cepheus (SEE-fee-us) meaning "King" is also a constellation, so it's following in the Black tradition. Sirius, as the father, traditionally would be the one to name the child.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Hopefully the ending to this one answers the previous questions about 'Harry'. Let me know what you thought!