Chapter 7: Family is the cause of/solution to life

I don't own 'Harry Potter'


Harry tapped his quill against the parchment absentmindedly, trying to figure out where he was going with this, and if it really was the best idea.

He'd not long decided to give writing fiction a go, and seeing as the non-magical world was rife with fantasy books and always would be, why not write something about the magical world? He was just going to twist it around a bit so it wasn't breaking the Statute of Secrecy – having a cell in Azkaban wasn't exactly one of his life goals – and try and publish it under an alias, then he should be good to go. (No matter how much Regulus muttered derogatory comments under his breath about Harry's common sense. Bastard.) He wouldn't be living off the funds he'd acquired in rather odd ways – that he wouldn't be telling anyone about if he wanted to live – and he could do something to occupy whatever free time he had whenever Regulus was out of the house.

His husband was such a stupid workaholic, but he couldn't help but be impressed at how he and Arcturus had essentially roped the entire family into spreading out among their government and more-or-less taking over. Alphard was now working with the Board of Governors at Hogwarts – which was both a nightmare and a hysterical joke, in Harry's opinion – Regulus and Orion were in charge of the school the Blacks had funded, the aptly named Avalon Introductory Academy of Magic (because doing things in the name of Arthurian magic was a sure-fire way to entice people of all factions to come running), and Arcturus had retaken his place as Lord Black on the Wizengamot, with Pollux assisting him with anything and everything political in their society.

The House of Black really had taken over, and Harry couldn't help but be glad that he wasn't one of their enemies.

He stood up and stretched his arms in the air, wincing a little at the pain in his lower back. It wasn't too much of a bother, but Regulus had been very enthusiastic last night and he was currently reaping the benefits of their night-time exercise. Just thinking about how exactly his back got stretched out was enough to bring a lazy, and very self-satisfied smirk to his face. His husband certainly hadn't complained at their lack of sleep.

"Papa! Papa!"

He spun on the spot and bent down to grab the two little terrors, hoisting them into the air and spinning around, grinning at their delighted shrieks. Harry spun a few more times before gently lowering the twins to the ground and sitting down next to them. The two little girls pulled back and looked up at him, both sporting identical grins on their chubby faces.

But Merlin, Harry loved his daughters.

Carina and Lyra were a whole two-years-old now, and he still couldn't believe how quickly time had gone by. His children now had riotous, silky curls that fell just passed their shoulders, pale alabaster skin like Regulus, and wide, almond-shaped emerald eyes like his own. Harry had never seen a Black with an eye colour other than silver or blue, but Regulus had been extraordinarily happy when the girls' eyes morphed to green. Something about proving they were also Harry's children as well as Blacks. (He'd honestly been too busy snogging his husband out of gratitude to fully analyse his reasons at the time.)

His two daughters could walk – run if they so desired, as they often did – talk somewhat, and were perfect little angels in Harry's eyes. Yeah, they might have temper tantrums sometimes, and were fussy about random vegetables for no apparent reason whatsoever, but that was truly the extent of any issues Harry and Regulus had with them. They were far more likely to be innocent cherubs with a hint of mischief in them on any given day. Like the time that Carina threw a ball at baby Draco's head and made him cry, which Harry still found hilarious to this day, no matter how much Regulus sighed and shook his head.

His firstborn was quite feisty, and he was very much in favour of it.

Lyra was definitely quieter than her twin, but she was a little more possessive of her things, and even at two the girl had a fierce glare to rival her sire when someone touched something of hers without permission. Like Alexander had with her stuffed Kneazle, before he realised his grave error and hid behind Remus' chair for the rest of the visit. She'd gotten an extra biscuit for that, and that wasn't even Harry, it was Kreacher! (With Harry's silent approval, of course. They were allies into turning the girls into strong, proud Blacks.)

At the moment, his two little imps were clinging to his arms and chattering a mile a minute about … birds? (He wondered what the fascination was with birds. Marcus had been the same at their age, and even now the boy of five had a love for all things avian. The lovely – and deadly – Prairie falcon Dorea had gifted him a year ago had only made his obsession fiercer, even though Harry was a little concerned about his adopted brother playing families with a flying predator. Dorea was quite clearly insane. And no, Regulus, Ophiuchus isn't that bad, he's like an overgrown worm who likes sunbathing.

Ophiuchus? Dangerous? Yeah, right. His husband needed to get his facts straight.)

He heard the words "bird" and "window" several times, and seeing as how Carina and Lyra were valiantly trying to drag him to the window a few feet away, he was no doubt going to see some sort of bird in a minute.

"Alright, alright," he laughed as he stood up, smiling at two sets of happy green eyes. "Come on then, let's go and see the bird." Harry held out his hands which were immediately grabbed by the tiny fingers of his daughters, then they started pulling him to the window as one, babbling excitedly as they did.

"Papa! Pretty birdy!"

"Birdy fluffy!"

He could feel his expression soften as he looked at the two children. These two little girls were his children, he'd carried them himself, and now they were running around and gazing up at him like he'd hung the stars. Harry had never thought he'd be able to have a family of his choosing, one that he loved, but now he had the crazy Potters, the insane Blacks, a husband that loved him and told him so every single day, and two gorgeous daughters who were amazing in every way possible.

Carina and Lyra would never grow up not knowing their own names, or wondering when they'd next eat, or huddling in a tiny cupboard feeling worthless. They wouldn't have Harry's life, and they certainly wouldn't have Regulus', either. They'd grow up happy and healthy, and that was all that Harry wanted for them. (And when people eventually took notice of how gorgeous his daughters were, he would be right there letting them know that Harry's ideas of parental protection and revenge made him more than a perfect spouse for any bloodthirsty Black.)

The party of three got to the window and Harry peered out, looking up at the massive oak tree outside. He felt his breath catch as he noticed the stunning snowy owl on one of the lower branches, looking incredibly similar to his beloved late Hedwig. Harry knew this wasn't her, this one had denser black markings across the breast, but the similarity was enough to cause a lump in his throat. Hers was a death that still haunted him to this day; losing his first friend had cut deep.

A moment later though, any thoughts of emotional reminiscence were wiped from his mind as he noticed a thin line of red where one wing met the body. The owl looked more than a little distressed, hopping up and down on the branch while flapping its wings in a rather futile manner. The left wing was clearly hurt, possibly broken, and the owl was having some sort of panic attack at not being able to move. Thank fuck I learnt about owl care from Hagrid.

Harry turned around and bent down, looking at the twins. Both girls seemed to realise their father was serious and fell silent, blinking at him intently.

"Carina. Lyra. I think the bird is hurt, so Papa's going to go and help it, okay?"

Lyra tilted her head to the side cutely. "Hurt? Birdy ouchie?"

Harry nodded at her. "Birdy ouchie."

"Papa help?" Carina asked with wide eyes.

"Yes, Papa help. So, I need you to stay here, okay? Kreacher will stay with you."

At the sound of his name, the older elf immediately popped in, looking up at Harry for his orders.

"Kreacher, the girls have discovered an injured owl outside, so I'm going to go and see if I can help it. Can you stay here and keep an eye on them while I do?"

The elf nodded slowly, his expression a far sight better than the mad version of Harry's future-past. "Kreacher will care for little Misses while Master Harry helps the owl. Would Master Harry like Kreacher to bring some healing potions to the office?"

Harry smiled, finding Kreacher's proud stance rather endearing. "Thank you, Kreacher. That would be very helpful."

The small elf puffed out his chest and clicked his fingers as Harry pressed a kiss to Lyra's forehead before repeating the action with Carina. He waved at the two of them quickly before striding out the room and through the house, going through the kitchen to grab a small hand-towel.

He walked across the garden and stopped at the foot of the tree, peering up at the distressed animal. The poor owl was clicking its beak repeatedly, and Harry quickly levitated himself off the ground so he could see more clearly.

The owl's wing was definitely broken, but Harry knew he could fix the wounds within the hour with little issue. The problem was whether or not the owl itself would let him. Harry leaned his hands on the tree and sat still, looking into the yellow eyes head-on and keeping quiet so he didn't worry the panicked bird.

Sharp yellow eyes met green and stared intently, judging whether or not he as a human would be any help at all. Or if he would make the pain worse. Magical animals – as this owl clearly was – were much more in tune with their senses than mundane ones, and more often than not, they had the ability to 'read' the magic of other species, including humans. If one's magic made an animal uncomfortable, then getting closer without force was impossible, end of story. If it was compatible, then the animal would definitely stick around; that was how Familiar bonds started, after all.

A few seconds later, the owl's panicked demeanour tapered off, and the intelligent bird slowly hopped over to Harry, watching him closely as it did. As it reached his hands, the owl leaned forward and prodded his finger with its beak, almost as if judging what he'd do at the sharp sensation. Harry smiled slightly; Hedwig had been much more aggressive at certain times, usually where food was concerned, and she was impatient with him, so the feeling wasn't something he was a stranger to.

Harry carefully cradled the owl and gathered it to his chest in the small towel, slowly lowering himself to the ground as he did. "Careful there," he murmured, stroking the owl's head gently. "You don't want to hurt yourself any more."

Once Harry's feet touched the ground again, he quickly strode back into the house and made his way through the hallways, ending up in his personal office where Kreacher had indeed placed some healing potions. Harry sat down on the sofa and slowly lowered the poor owl onto a cushion he put on the coffee table, pulling back to rifle through the medicines. Skele-Gro specifically for magical animals, some antibiotics to prevent infection, and some painkillers so that Harry could help without causing even more distress.

Slowly and deliberately pulling out his wand, Harry quietly incanted so he could figure out the exact problems and how best to proceed. It turned out that the owl was in fact female, and she'd apparently caught her wing on something, causing both a long cut at the joint as well as breaking it. The break was thankfully clean, so the bone would probably heal in less than an hour, and the cut wasn't too deep, so she'd probably take to the sky rather quickly. Hopefully she'd stick around a little so that Carina and Lyra could admire her; he didn't fancy dealing with a temper tantrum over how the beautiful owl wouldn't be around to look at. His girls had a proclivity for pretty things even at two.

He spelled a small amount of painkiller into the owl, then waited a few minutes for the potion to set in. When he saw her relax, Harry started humming and stroking the bird's feathers as he did the same thing with the Skele-Gro. It was rather lucky he was doing this with a bird; magical animal or not, a bird having hollow bones meant that the potion worked a hell of a lot quicker than it did on humans. Even while adjusting the dosage for a much smaller body, the lower bone density worked in Harry's favour for the current situation.

As the wing bones slowly repaired themselves, Harry slowly cleaned up the cut and dabbed some antibiotic potion on the wound, allowing it to be absorbed directly into the owl's bloodstream. He carefully ran his wand up and down the cut, pushing his magic in a small, controlled stream to slowly close up the skin and fix the damage.

Harry studied the bird on his lap after he was finished, noticing again just how much she looked like Hedwig. This bird had very similar markings on the top of its head, and her size was more or less identical to Hedwig's before she died. The resemblance was uncanny, and Harry was torn between feeling ecstatic at the unexpected nostalgia, or wanting to cry after thinking about the death of his first proper friend.

Hmm, that looks better. No swelling, and she seems pretty happy, all things considered. I wonder if she'll let the girls have a look.

He gently cleared his throat, getting the beautiful bird's attention. "Hello, my name's Harry. I've fixed up all the damage I could find. Your wing is healed now, but it'll still be quite tender and fragile for a while. You need rest to help it regain strength, so you're welcome to rest in the Owlery if you need to. Also," he added with a wry smile, "I was hoping you might let my children see you before you leave. They found you earlier, and I know they'd love to see such a magnificent bird."

While others might think it weird to talk to an owl like a normal human, Harry was well aware the animals were just as intelligent as people and they understood everything said to them. Acting as if they were dumb or incompetent in any way would just make an owl very uncooperative, or violent if you were particularly rude. The best way to get an owl on your side was to play up to their pride, as the birds were more than a little obsessed with their appearance and their ability to carry letters. Overly complimenting their beauty was a quick and easy way to butter them up. Hedwig had been the same.

The female owl straightened up and preened, looking extraordinarily proud at Harry's admiration. He wasn't exactly lying, either; she was a gorgeous bird, with glossy white feathers, striking black markings, and sharp talons which he could easily imagine as the perfect hunting weapons. She really was stunning. And she knows it, doesn't she? He grinned at the smug air the owl was giving off. Total princess.

He carefully stood up and made his way back through his home towards the front room. Harry stopped just outside and looked down at the recovering bird. "Do you mind seeing my children? You don't have to if you don't want to. They might get a bit upset, but they'll understand. Eventually," he added, imagining the inevitable sulk if they didn't get to see the "birdy". His daughters' pout was a weapon of mass destruction, no doubt about it, and if they looked at him with teary eyes, then he was liable to fold like a deck of cards. (Regulus could mock him all he liked, but his husband once bought the girls the same dress in four different colours because they liked them all. And those things were not cheap. Stupid rich pure-blood, bleeding Galleons all over the place.)

Yellow eyes studied him for a minute before settling further in his arms, looking rather content to be carried around all over the place like royalty. She was gently flexing her injured wing; however, she was clearly smart enough not to overdo it, and she was obviously testing her new limits for the foreseeable future. (Harry just wished that his children were that cautious. And didn't like running at full speed at the top of the stairs.

He'd aged fifty years that day. And probably earned a Warding Mastery by magicking the fuck out of their stairs.)

He quietly pulled open the door to the sitting room and poked his head in, smiling softly – and probably like a complete sap, knowing him – at the two toddlers sitting in complete silence, gazing at Kreacher in rapture as he read a book about owls out loud to them. They might not be able to understand the vast majority of what they were hearing, but Kreacher was using his magic to conjure pictures to go with his lecture, so Carina and Lyra were picking up a lot more than they would otherwise. (Seeing as everyone – human and elf alike – read to the twins like this often, the girls' vocabulary was a lot more advanced than the average child. He and Regulus would have to be careful with what they said in front of the mischievous imps in the future, lest they started parroting things they shouldn't. Or his husband would, at any rate. Harry was entirely innocent and never said anything inappropriate for children. Regulus needed to chill the fuck out.)

Harry gently cleared his throat and grinned as two small heads whipped around to stare at him, and upon noticing just what he was holding, they grinned widely and rushed over to him.

The man chuckled at their enthusiasm but still looked over at Kreacher. "Thank you for your help, Kreacher. The potions were perfect, and I appreciate you reading to the girls." He looked down at his daughters and smiled teasingly. "Aren't you going to say 'thank you' to Kreacher?"

Two sets of green eyes widened and they spun around to the old elf, before running to him and hugging him softly. "Tanks, Keacher!"

Kreacher just smiled slightly and patted the girls on the head. "Kreacher is happy to help young Misses and Master Harry. Kreacher lives to serve The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

After finally prying himself away from the enthusiastic cuddles of twin two-year-olds, the elf bowed towards Harry briefly before popping away to carry on with … whatever the hell he was doing before. (He had no clue; it could be anything from polishing the family portraits to arguing with Ophiuchus, for all he knew.)

"Alright," he said as he sat down on the sofa. "This is the owl you saw, and she hurt her wing, so Papa helped fix her." Harry looked the girls in the eye. "Lyra, Carina. You need to be careful, okay? Gentle." He tilted his head to the side trying to find a suitable comparison before he grinned in triumph. "Like with Meissa and Cepheus, okay?"

Carina scrunched her nose up. (It was adorable.) "Soft?"

"Yes, soft," he nodded.

"We touch soft birdy?" Lyra asked, hope painfully evident in her eyes.

He chuckled, nodding slowly. "Yes, you two can touch. But softly. She's still hurt."

At the verbal permission, both girls crept forward with enthusiasm visible in every inch of their bodies, but with restraint not often seen on a toddler. (Maybe Regulus had managed to pass on his Slytherin traits in genetic form? It wouldn't surprise Harry; his husband was a twat.)

The owl happily sat back and more-or-less preened as she was fawned over by the two girls, looking extraordinarily smug at her excited audience. Harry shook his head; this owl was reminding him of Hedwig more and more as the day went on. The beautiful bird shifted so she could show off her glossy coat, and the awed cooing from Lyra and Carina only seemed to fuel her pride. (Or maybe that was narcissism, who knew?)

Not much later, Harry noticed the owl fidgeting like she couldn't wait to take flight and he sighed internally. He couldn't justify forcing this animal to stay in their home when she wanted freedom, but he really wasn't looking forward to the inevitable tears and crying when he said as such.

Whoever said that being a full-time parent was easy, needed to be shot. Repeatedly.

He stood up carefully and adjusted his feathered guest, focusing on her amused yellow eyes rather than the mournful cries from his daughters. Yeah, she's ready to go. Fucking hell, I hate upsetting them. Harry braced himself and turned to his pouting twins, the expression already enough to make him feel like the devil incarnate, but before he could get much further, he heard a barking sound echoing from outside the window.

Harry looked up, amazed as he spotted several dots flying at high-speed towards his house. As they got closer, Harry realised they were even more snowy owls, all flying together in a close group. A few seconds later and they all landed on the flower box outside the open window, peering into the room and looking at the owl that Harry was holding.

Said owl barked in what sounded like a reassuring manner, and the new owls seemed to instantly relax at the sound. Now he was looking more carefully, he noticed all of the newcomers looked to be a lot smaller than who he was holding. These owls – a whole seven of them – had clearly only just gained independence, though Harry was going to take a wild guess and say that these gorgeous birds had missed their mother. The owl in Harry's lap was clearly keeping an eye on them in a way that reminded Harry of himself with Carina and Lyra, so a parental relationship was more than likely.

Magical owls tended to stay in contact with their offspring more than their non-magical counterparts given how often they were adopted by magical families, so the children flying off after their absentee mother really wasn't all that unexpected. If anything, Harry was impressed none of the newcomers were flying around his room like a spazzy Pigwidgeon. (A name which was another reason he was glad to have avoided marrying Ginny. She probably would have named their kids something like Albus Severus. Ugh. Crazy woman.)

His girls, of course, shouted in excited wonder from their spot next to Harry, their heads constantly swivelling backwards and forwards as they drank in the sight of all the owls in their home. They obviously couldn't bear to miss even a single moment of avian presence, and Harry was trying to avoid the urge to dump the injured owl on the sofa and squeeze his ridiculously cute daughters to death.

(So he loved his children, sue him.)

"What on earth is going on?"

Harry turned to see his gorgeous husband in the flesh, his lower back seemingly throbbing even more in the presence of the man that had caused the pleasurable pain to begin with, and smiled wryly at the chaos of their home.

"Welcome back. Meet the owl family."

Regulus raised a brow. "Dare I even –"

Before he could finish the sentence, the owl in Harry's arms decided to take flight then and there, propelling herself into the air and hovering for a few seconds, then flying straight over to Regulus and perching on his shoulder. The bird casually looked his husband in the eye before butting his head with her beak, pulling back with a self-satisfied air about her.

Regulus drew in a sharp breath and Harry tensed, his hand automatically drawing and gripping his wand. "What's wrong?"

"I think …" The silver-eyed man broke off, a look of wonder on his face. "I think our magic just connected. Like a Familiar bond."

Harry's eyes widened. "Instantly?"

A sudden weight on his shoulder distracted him from his husband's miraculous find (which was miraculous; Familiars were treasured companions, but bonds usually took years to form, not instantaneously which was beyond rare), and he turned to see one of the other owls on him, peering into his eyes with a knowing look. Harry's breath caught in his throat and he froze. This owl was small, clearly only a few months old, and it still had some growing to do before they reached adulthood. The yellow eyes weren't intimately aware of things like secret conversations, or habits, or any defining personality traits of Harry's, but those intelligent eyes looked at him with a certain kind of significance reflected in the golden hue.

It was his Familiar. Hedwig.

A baby Hedwig for sure, but it was his Hedwig. The same black markings across the breast, the same head shape, even the same proud stance as she peered around at everyone as if they should be blessed by her mere presence. As he watched his first ever friend glance around his home with well-hidden curiosity, he felt tears start to build up in his eyes and he blinked rapidly, trying not to start crying in front of the girls and mentally scar them.

"Harry? Is everything alright?"

He turned at Regulus' quiet murmur and smiled slightly, knowing his tears weren't exactly helping him reassure his husband. "I'm fine." Harry closed his eyes when Hedwig brushed her beak against his head, her innate magic flowing and joining with his, resulting in a warm – and painfully recognisable – Familiar bond, one that soothed a part of him deep inside his soul. (Hedwig always had done things on her own terms. Not waiting for years before bonding was something she'd have done if she knew what she wanted.)

Harry opened his eyes again, feeling his smile become more genuine. "Regulus, allow me to introduce you.

"This is Hedwig, my Familiar."

Silver eyes widened and he looked stunned. "Hedwig? The same one?"

He nodded. "Exactly the same, magic and all." His voice dropped to a whisper, the sound wavering from his emotional state. "I got her back."

Regulus stepped forward and, mindful of the birds on their shoulders, wrapped his arms around Harry, hugging him tight and pulling his head towards Regulus' other shoulder. Harry buried his head there and breathed deeply, wondering just how he'd managed to get this lucky.

Luck was never something Harry had associated with his life. Well, good luck, anyway. Between his parents being murdered, having to grow up with the Dursleys, and being Voldy's favourite target since he could walk, Harry was used to having his life turn to shit around him. Even winning a bloody war hadn't stopped people from being arseholes left, right and centre, therefore he'd been convinced that good luck simply didn't exist in the life of Harry James Potter.

But then he fell through time. He finished a war before it could escalate and kill his own family. He stopped a man from being poisoned to death by his wife. He stopped innocent people from being killed for simply existing. He influenced an ancient and powerful family into bettering their society for future generations.

He fell in love.

Harry fell in love and his life did a complete one-eighty, so much so that even now he couldn't quite believe how things had changed so much. He had an extended family, both through the Potters and Blacks, he had a husband who he was extraordinarily happy with, and his two children were beyond perfect. And now he'd found Hedwig again.

He'd thought about trying to find her before, but he hadn't been too sure of whether or not they'd even bond this time around. Not to mention that someone might have tried to buy the gorgeous owl before Harry could, seeing as he'd never known just how long she'd been in the shop before Hagrid purchased her for Harry.

All that hemming and hawing, and Hedwig had simply found her way to Harry herself. Their bond felt just the same as it did when he was in school, not an ounce of resentment from the magnificent bird. The bond was entirely organic, and Harry couldn't quite suppress that little voice in the back of his mind suggesting that this was fate. It sounded cheesy as anything, but considering the circumstances, he couldn't bring himself to ignore that voice at all. How else was he supposed to explain regaining such an integral part of himself after ending up in the bloody past?

Regulus pressed his lips to the side of Harry's head, the gentle affection warming his heart. "She's yours. She'll always be yours, and apparently, even Magic knows that."

He closed his eyes again and smiled at the sensation of Hedwig grooming his hair. Some things never change.

"Papa! Daddy!"

The two of them pulled back slightly and turned to see the girls giggling and dancing around the room, apparently playing with the remaining six small owls. The birds were flying around the room low enough for the girls to stroke, but they were smart enough to lead Carina and Lyra away from any hard furniture or anything that could hurt them. Two of the white animals were hovering around the girls more than the others, and Harry couldn't but feel slightly exasperated at the sight. After he and Regulus had both ended up bonding with these owls, it seemed very likely the same was going to happen with his children.

Harry watched as his little family played in the room together, running and flying alike, childish laughter mixed in with amused barking, and couldn't help but laugh. He spotted Ophiuchus slither in from outside and survey the room before getting into a staring contest with the owl on Regulus' shoulder. It wasn't a prey versus predator situation, but more of a territorial thing, so Harry left them to their little spat, happily leaning into Regulus' side. He brought up one hand to casually stroke Hedwig's head, feeling her happily lean into the touch.

He cast his mind back to fifth year, hearing his friend's words so clearly as if she was right next to him at this very moment.

"Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect."

Luna had always been the smartest person he knew, no matter how others had underestimated her.

Harry smiled at the cacophony of noise and closed his eyes, simply listening and soaking up the sounds of the happy chaos of their home.

This was his family, and he honestly wouldn't change it for anything.


"Thanks for doing this. I would have avoided going, but Abraxas is … Abraxas."

Regulus snorted softly and wondered how Harry would have described the Malfoy patriarch. Just imagining some of his husband's favourite – and more colourful – insults was enough to make his lips twitch. Harry's language was atrocious, though it never failed to amuse him. (He wondered if he'd always been this way, or if Harry had turned him into a very inappropriate human being just from being near him.)

Orion raised a brow, looking the slightest bit amused. Just a little. "I'd ask where you got such a terrible sense of humour, but I suppose Harry's to blame there. He really is Charlus Potter's son, isn't he?"

More like a Potter in general, Regulus thought. The entire family seemed to have no concept of how to comport themselves in certain situations, hence why his uncle Alphard had apparently made a friend for life in the form of Harry's adoptive father. Which was a horrifying duo to consider, but he supposed Charlus and Dorea's marriage already proved that the two families got along well enough. And his and Harry's. And Sirius' friendship with James.

… Perhaps it was a slightly worrying trend upon considering the other individuals in question. (There was nothing wrong with he and Harry, of course.)

"I prefer to think of it less as 'to blame', and more 'thanks to'," he replied airily. "Merlin only knows how boring my life was before I met him. Not to mention the fact that you have two wonderful granddaughters because of him," Regulus added dryly.

His father huffed lightly and shook his head. "I am well aware of his part in providing me with two of my three grandchildren, but that doesn't mean that I don't despair over his lack of decorum. And the fact that he has absolutely no care for politics. He went for lunch in public with Arthur Weasley the other day. Doesn't your husband care for his image?"

Regulus just sent his father a flat look. I'm not even going to dignify that with a response.

"Look, I'm just concerned for the family," Orion explained. "You know I have no problem with Harry himself, I just wish he'd focus a bit more on the House of Black. You're going to be Lord Black in the future, and he's going to be at your side, assisting you with the family. He needs to be aware of that."

"Father," Regulus began slowly, genuinely wondering if his father's reawakened love life had completely fucked with his ability to be aware of the world, "you do realise that Harry has been focused on the family, don't you?

"He meets up with Grandfather and Grandmother every other week, regularly corresponds with Grandfather Pollux concerning ideas for new legislation, ends up feeding Uncle Alphard for dinner at least once a week, visits with Andromeda, Narcissa and Uncle Marius at least once a month, is currently working on a project with Aunt Cassiopeia, goes back to Potters' with Aunt Dorea whenever he can, gets along like a house on fire with Aunt Lucretia, talks to Sirius fairly often (for some unknown reason), and writes to Uncle Cygnus, despite thinking he's a, and I quote, 'sexist, misogynistic wanker, who deserves to get some sort of incurable STD from fucking one of those prostitutes he thinks nobody knows about, because he's a narrow-minded, hypocritical waste of oxygen that deserves to be literally fucked-over by life'."

The older man just stared at him for a few seconds, looking like he absolutely no idea how to respond. Eventually, his father said, "I'm not sure whether I should be more concerned about Harry's … imaginative – yet worryingly accurate – description of Cygnus, or the fact that I honestly hadn't noticed his networking throughout the family."

"Definitely the latter," Regulus deadpanned. (He and Harry were in complete agreement when it came to Cygnus Black. Wanker.)

"Hmm …"

Regulus eyed his father weirdly, wondering what was going through his mind, but realising he probably did not want to know. He had enough issues as it was.

He cleared his throat gently and looked over at the older man. "So, is everything good to go?"

Orion switched his focus to Regulus and nodded. "Yes, they're completely fine. They've just eaten, but I suppose you're well acquainted with how to deal with that. I suppose there was –"

"Father," he interrupted, feeling more than a little bemused, "I will be fine. As you've pointed out, I know what to do in this situation, and even if I need to get in contact with you, I'll be able to. Now go, before you're late." He gestured towards the floo, just slightly exasperated with his father.

The man opened his mouth before glancing towards the ceiling and visibly arguing with himself in his head. (What the fuck is wrong with my family? They're just proving Harry right.) Orion turned to Regulus and smiled lightly. "I'm just going to check on something, then I'll floo from upstairs. I'll see you later, Regulus."

Regulus watched his father walk out the room and listened carefully, hearing him ascend the stairs at a quick pace. He knew that his and Sirius' childhoods had been pretty fucking shit because of Walburga, but the crazy bitch was dead now, so Orion needed to calm down and not panic every few minutes about the house's new occupants.

Orion's new children might grow up a little insane, but they'd be physically fine, at least.

He still couldn't get over his father getting married early last year, not to mention impregnating his new wife within a scant six months with twins. (And he supposed he'd done the same thing to Harry – in not even half the time – but they were young and he really didn't care about any supposed hypocrisy. Shut up, Harry.)

Heir Orion Black had begun discretely courting Miss Honorine Malfoy not even two months after Carina and Lyra were born, and in February the following year, his father had become a married man once more after a quiet, yet tasteful ceremony at their ancestral manor. To a Malfoy.

(He'd never had a single normal parent, had he?)

Honorine was quietly confident, serene yet not submissive in any way. The woman took no shit from anyone, whether that be Lucretia or Melania subtly analysing every single aspect of her life to see if she was good enough for Orion, or Cassiopeia goading the blonde woman to see if she'd be an acceptable Lady Black in the future. Considering Lucretia now considered Honorine to be one of her closest friends, and Melania was grateful for even more grandchildren to spoil, the woman had passed the underhanded tests with flying colours. Even Aunt Cassiopeia had taken a liking to the sharp-tongued Malfoy, thanking Magic that Honorine had infinitely more pride and class than her oldest brother. Because nobody liked Abraxas Malfoy.

By early August last year, his new stepmother – which was beyond strange to think about; his relationship with her wasn't that good, yet – had fallen pregnant, and with twins as well, because the House of Black couldn't be content with just one set of twins from him and Harry, his father also had to sire one to boost their numbers.

Regulus was no longer Orion Black's youngest child, which was bizarre in so many ways, not the least of which was that Lyra and Carina now had an aunt and uncle who were younger than them. It of course happened often in pure-blood families, what with a magical person's extended lifespan, but actually being involved in the situation was just plain odd.

His siblings now consisted of a two-month-old Meissa and Cepheus, the newest scions born to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. As they were members of the main branch, they'd inherited Orion's looks over Honorine's, though the woman clearly hadn't been expecting otherwise. It wasn't even anything she was attempting to change, as she'd already stated that two children were enough for her to be content with. (Regulus wondered if it was something to do with age, because he honestly couldn't wait to expand his family with Harry already.)

He was a little more concerned about the fact that Alphard-fucking-Black had gotten married just after Yule, and that he and the poor Ianthe Black nee Greengrass were now trying for their first child. Because they planned to have at least two. Possibly more if they felt like it. Children, sired by his whore of an uncle.

No matter how he looked at it, he still couldn't figure out why the Greengrasses had approved the marriage.

Regulus sighed and made his way upstairs to his brother and sister's room – that'll take a while to get used to – to check on them, even if his father had no doubt tried to 'subtly' make sure his newest children were fine before leaving. Orion Black was a ridiculously attentive father when he wasn't drugged up to the eyeballs with poison, and Regulus knew that the newest Blacks were going to be spoiled beyond reason as they grew up. Meissa more so, perhaps, as his father was endearingly excited about having a daughter for the first time.

The man carefully opened the door and peered inside, noting the antique cot that had been stored in Gringotts for the past however-many years. (The family had several, one of which had been gifted to him and Harry during Harry's pregnancy. Sirius also had one thanks to Melania's interfering.) He walked closer and smiled at the hanging mobile, the wooden decorations depicting Unicorns, Hippogriffs and Abraxans. It was cute, reminding Regulus of the one Harry had made by hand with dragons for some inexplicable reason. (It was Harry; that was enough of an explanation.)

After inspecting the mobile, Regulus leaned over and checked on his siblings. Meissa already had a few black waves on her head, and her skin was as pale as ivory – which could honestly come from either side of her parentage. The small baby had delicate features which looked as if they'd grow into a more feminine version of Orion when she was older. Or basically Regulus as a female, because Merlin only knew that he wasn't the physically masculine brother.

Cepheus looked more-or-less identical to Meissa at this age, though his hair looked to be a tad curlier than his sister's, with a face that looked like the spitting image of their father, masculinity and all. Not that Regulus was annoyed or envious or anything. He was a grown man and a father of two, he'd moved past wanting to alter his appearance as a young teenager. (Besides, seeing as Harry practically undressed him with his eyes every single time they were together, any residual self-esteem issues from his younger years flew right out the window in favour of indulging in his healthy sex life.)

He cast a few monitoring charms around the cot despite knowing that there would be at least one elf keeping watch over his siblings all night, and turned to leave the room, carefully pulling the door shut. Regulus made his way back downstairs and to the front room, looking around before flopping on the sofa with no grace whatsoever. Thank you for ruining my composure, Harry.

He rolled over onto his back and pulled out a book from his extended pocket. Carrie, it was called. Apparently, it was a very gripping horror novel. Or so Harry said. His husband had very odd tastes in all things, so he'd take the recommendation with a grain of salt. This was the man who thought that chip sandwiches counted as decent food. Disgusting man. I swear, he does these things on purpose.

Regulus leaned over towards the small table to make himself some tea, before sitting comfortably back with his book, mentally thanking the existence of magic in keeping his beverage eternally warm. Theoretically, he should be able to get a few chapters in before the babies needed feeding again. He hoped. He and Harry had had a few horrid weeks when Carina and Lyra started teething and woke up every few hours, but hopefully this time would be different.

He was just glad he'd gotten to put his daughters to bed before coming over to babysit. Becoming an absentee father that neglected their children wasn't exactly something he was aspiring to, and he would definitely do all he could to ensure that he never missed anything unless the situation was dire. Harry and he had both experienced the absence of parental love during their formative years, hence why they were both vehemently opposed to allowing their children to grow up in a similar manner.

Besides, watching his two angels go from excited for a story to drowsy and curled up in a ball was fucking adorable. He wouldn't miss it even if he got paid to.

As Regulus sat there indulging in his novel – I really need to keep up with this author, he's remarkable – he managed to lose himself in the pages, not even noticing the clock tick the hours away. He silently lost himself in the gripping story as he sunk into the soft cushions, for once feeling entirely at peace in his childhood home – probably thanks to Orion Black's spite-filled redecorating – and simply enjoyed the peace and quiet.

He turned a page and blinked as the fireplace roared to life across the room, the green flames illuminating the large room and its new décor. Regulus absentmindedly placed his bookmark between the pages and closed the novel, watching as his father stepped out of the fire looking more than a little mentally exhausted. The man stepped to the side before turning back around and waiting, then gently taking Honorine's arm as she came through not a minute later. The couple silently vanished any dirt from their clothes and turned to Regulus with expectant faces.

"Absolutely nothing happened," he began quickly, not wanting to deal with the incessant questioning he could see building up in their eyes. "The twins haven't woken up at all, so they've literally spent the past three hours sleeping peacefully. They might wake soon – I'm sure you know their feeding pattern better than I do – but it's been a peaceful night here. How was dinner?"

Honorine's relaxed expression morphed into one of irritation, her lips pursing at the mere mention of the family dinner at Malfoy Manor. Thank fuck it was just a Malfoy thing. I don't think I could have dealt with whatever catastrophe happened over there. Or stopped Harry from murdering someone for pissing him off.

"Honestly, Abraxas is beyond comprehension on most days, but his demand for instant recognition is simply baffling! Just because he is the Lord of my birth family, does not mean he can expect unadulterated adoration from his siblings for being the first of us to be born. And the constant bragging is revolting! Him being the only grandparent between the three of us doesn't elevate him above the rest of us, but he seems to have inherited Grandfather's worse traits more than we'd previously imagined. Honestly, as if turning my father and eldest brother into self-absorbed children did the family any good! I cannot believe how that narcissistic, ignorant …"

Regulus sat back, an amused look on his face as Honorine Black let loose with her true feelings – and a lot of pent-up anger – towards her brother, looking more and more enraged as she spoke. It was rather different to Harry cursing like a sailor with a very varied vocabulary, or his relatives' rants that were always interspersed with threats of grievous bodily harm and/or death. The platinum blonde woman still managed to keep a strong grasp on her poise and her aurally-pleasing vernacular, but everything from the sharp insults to the biting commentary was enough to warrant a fair amount of caution in response to her mood.

Caution which he was all for in favour of a well-timed strategic retreat.

The youngest of the three stood up and pocketed his book, silently vanishing the evidence from his snacks as his father valiantly tried to calm his wife down despite looking as if he agreed with every word she was saying. Regulus supposed he should be grateful for Orion Black's restraint in matters such as these, though he was more than a little concerned over how his new siblings would grow up with these two opinionated individuals as their parents. (Which he knew was somewhat hypocritical given that his daughters were being constantly exposed to Harry's bizarre personality as their primary caretaker, but they were his children and he was allowed to be as self-righteous as he wanted because they were perfect, end of discussion.)

Regulus gently cleared his throat and waited until two sets of eyes were on him. "Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to head home and to bed –" and to Harry "– as I'm feeling a bit tired now. I've got a few monitoring spells on Cepheus and Meissa, so I'll go and take them down before I leave."

Orion smiled slightly and strode forward to pull Regulus into a brief hug, one of his large hands clapping Regulus on the back. "Thank you for minding them for the evening, we appreciate it."

"Yes, thank you, Regulus," Honorine added, the woman standing back to allow the father-son duo a moment to themselves. Regulus mused that she wasn't too awful for being a Malfoy.

The younger of the three stepped back and nodded to the couple, inwardly rather grateful that his father finally looked alive and content with life. It was a far sight better than the deadened silver eyes of his youth, or the anger from the months after Harry had appeared and revealed the truth of Orion and Walburga's marriage. His father finally looked as if he wasn't regretting every inch of his life, and Regulus was all for the new life changes if his family remained so obviously happy.

He quickly made his way upstairs and into the twins' room, waving his wand around and removing the monitoring spells that were directly linked to him. He had no desire to be asleep – or getting intimate with Harry – and have some sort of magical alarm go off just to tell him that his new siblings were awake. This was their parents' job now, not him, therefore he was happy to gleefully remove the alarms and allow his father to deal with the inevitable sleepless nights.

After quickly stroking the downy hair of both babies, Regulus turned around and quietly walked out the room and down the hallway, stopping when he got to the smaller fireplace in the family room. He threw a pinch of powder into the dark cavern and muttered as he stepped into the glowing emerald flames, bracing himself for the familiar spinning sensation.

Upon stepping into the floo room of his home, he took a moment to feel out the house's wards to make sure the property was still secure. While he had complete faith in his family's ability to protect their homes, he'd also inherited their particular brand of paranoia and would still continue to check his home's security every day as long as he lived here. Some might find it excessive, but nothing was too much when it came to the safety of his children and husband.

Regulus nodded to himself once his spells came back clear, and began walking down the hallway towards the stairs, wanting very much to see his daughters once again before he went to sleep. He made his way over to their door – as they shared a room – and quietly went inside, noting that Lyra's bed was once more empty of its occupant. He looked over at Carina's and took in the expected sight of the two girls curled up together in a ball, arms wrapped around each other. It didn't happen every night, but the twins were very much in favour of being together most of the time. Neither he nor Harry had any problem with this at the present time, but if unusual co-dependency began to affect their lives later on, then they might have to do something to break them of the habit. For now, though, it was simply endearing.

He bent down to press a small kiss to their heads, gently stroking the silky curls that Harry couldn't bear to cut. Not that he was any better, because the two girls looked positively angelic with their chubby cheeks and glossy curls, and he honestly thought it a crime to lop off any hair of that magnitude of beauty.

The man pulled back and left the room, but not before quickly ensuring that the spells he and Harry used for the girls were still in place. He quickly strode across the corridor to his and Harry's bedroom, and upon noting the ajar door, slowly pushed into the room while keeping silent.

Harry was sat up against the headboard, his thin body covered by wine-red, silk pyjamas – another homage to Gryffindor the sarcastic bastard kept waving in Regulus' face – while he was engrossed in a worn paperback. The Hobbit, if Regulus was recognising the cover correctly. Harry loved fantasy fiction – as was evidenced by his recent foray into skimming the boundaries of the Statute of Secrecy out of sheer boredom; moron – and he could probably just keep reading and reading if time permitted.

Regulus could admit – at least in the privacy of his own mind, where nobody knew how disgustingly sappy he could be towards his own family – that he loved watching Harry read. The way those emerald eyes would gleam with excitement, how Harry sometimes shifted in his seat as he unconsciously reacted to the written story, or how every few minutes he'd have to push his glasses back up his nose as he hunched over, head tilted too low in his delighted immersion.

He watched for a few minutes as his husband bit his lip and tensed his shoulders, no doubt feeling anxious despite having read the book several times and knowing full well how this particular conflict would be resolved. Regulus smiled to himself. It wasn't hard to figure out just where their daughters had inherited their ability to be effortlessly enchanting.

"Harry."

At the sound of his name, the man in question turned to Regulus and blinked a little before his face lit up in a wide, gentle smile that did nothing for Regulus' attempts to hold onto his expected composure. (Attempts which hadn't been as stringently adhered to in the past few years, but at least he was trying. Somewhat.)

"Hey there, welcome back. Was everything okay?" The genuine expression on Harry's face was enough to metaphorically make him melt. Thank Merlin for the appearance of this man.

"Nothing happened," he revealed, stepping into their bedroom fully. "Meissa and Cepheus slept the whole time, and Father and Honorine were enjoying the full … experience of the House of Malfoy, including their patriarch."

Harry snorted as he slipped his bookmark between the pages. "Abraxas Malfoy is a self-absorbed bastard, and I had Gilderoy-fucking-Lockhart as a Defence professor. Even that blonde ponce wasn't as bad as the prissy peacock," he muttered irritably. "I still can't believe we had to invite the twat to our wedding. Then again," Harry added with a sly smirk as he stretched his arms, "if we hadn't, my oh-so-darling father wouldn't have been able to 'accidentally' turn his hair into a red lion's mane. Best memory ever," he snickered with an evil grin, looking nowhere near the responsible father of two he was supposed to be. (Not that Regulus necessarily disagreed with him, it was just the principle of the matter. And riling Harry up was fun.)

Regulus shook his head, doing nothing to disguise the amusement that was no doubt lining his face. "Charlus should be grateful that Abraxas didn't know who was responsible. He was a second away from starting a blood feud with the culprit."

"Perhaps, but the git does seem to be inordinately terrified of Dorea. Would he really want to risk such a feud with her family?" Harry questioned lightly, head tilted to the side in a rather innocent manner that didn't mask the wicked glee in his bright eyes.

"Nobody sane would want to risk such a feud with Dorea Potter," Regulus deadpanned.

Harry laughed to himself, leaning back into the soft pillows as he tilted his head to the ceiling. Regulus shook his head and went to get changed, carrying out his evening ablutions as quickly as possible seeing as he was rather tired from the long day. From dealing with Aunt Cassiopeia appearing out of nowhere in their home to discuss some runic project with Harry, to having Alphard drop by to wiggle his eyes at Regulus then disappear – what the actual fuck? Bloody weird wanker – then having to babysit his infant siblings, he was more than a little exhausted. At least he'd managed to spend several hours with Lyra and Carina during the day, happily reading them their new favourite book about owl care as their own personal owls perched on their shoulders.

(It was still beyond odd that Harry's own Hedwig had reappeared, and bringing with her seven other owls, one of which – Hedwig's mother – had become Regulus' Familiar. Utterly baffling. The remaining two female owls had more or less attached themselves to Carina and Lyra, while the males were content to fly around the grounds of their property and hunt, or just ensconce themselves in the Owlery and sleep the afternoon away. And Olga, Regulus' owl, did not seem to care one whit, rather happy to leave her offspring to their laziness and get into weird animal arguments with Ophiuchus, because why the hell not?

He didn't know how or why these sorts of situations were happening, but he knew it was Harry's fault. It always was.)

Regulus walked into the bedroom and padded across the carpet to the four-poster, climbing in next to Harry and smiling as his husband immediately rolled over and curled into his side, his head resting on Regulus shoulder.

Harry tilted his head up to look in his eyes. "I missed you."

The Black bent down and brushed his lips against Harry's chastely, relishing in the warmth before pulling back. "I missed you too. I would have said no, but I do believe the only other option for a babysitter was Aunt Cassiopeia, and I have no desire to subject my siblings to that."

"Ouch, that was harsh," Harry laughed. "Not that I disagree of course. I can only imagine the carnage that would happen if we left her alone with the girls."

"Which is why that's not happening," Regulus muttered. "Ever."

"Hmm …"

Regulus looked down to see Harry nearly dozing off himself and decided the smaller man had the right idea. With a quick wave of his wand, all the lights in the room were extinguished and the room felt a lot calmer. He placed his wand on the bedside table before fully sinking into the mattress, pulling Harry closer into his arms and burying his nose into the messy hair.

"Night, Regulus."

He smiled in the darkness and tightened his arms. "Goodnight, Harry."

And with that, Regulus drifted off while mentally agreeing with himself.

Any night with Harry in his arms was a good night.


"Twenty-two, huh? You're turning into an old man!"

Harry just threw a filthy look at Alphard, ignoring the smug smirk on his face. "If I'm old, then you're practically ancient, Granddad."

Silver eyes widened, a truly offended look gracing the handsome face. Alphard clutched a hand over his heart and stepped back in an exaggerated fashion. "My darling nephew-in-law, how cruel you are! I'm not old, I'm mature! Like a fine wine! Isn't that right, my lovely wife?"

Ianthe Black turned to her husband with a faintly pitying smile and gently patted his arm. "If you say so, Alphard. As long as you feel young in your mind, I'm sure you'll be able to ignore the fact that you're old enough to have had grandchildren by now."

The consoling tone did absolutely nothing to disguise the cutting remark, and the bright smile on her face only served to twist the metaphorical knife deeper, ensuring the mocking insults weren't forgotten any time soon. The beautiful woman with golden hair and sky-blue eyes looked like she couldn't hurt a fly, but the way she spoke reminded Harry intimately of one Daphne Greengrass verbally tearing into people left, right and centre with a vicious control whenever they pissed her off. Ianthe wasn't as cold as Daphne, but it was clear the aunt and niece had a lot more in common than their colouring. Harry loved it. (Mostly because he wasn't the target right now – or ever had been for either woman – but he wouldn't deny it was premium entertainment.)

Alphard gaped at his younger wife and Harry bit deep into his tongue before he started laughing hysterically at the other man's misery. His husband's uncle looked to be genuinely betrayed at Ianthe's words, and Harry decided then and there that the woman was going to get a fucking amazing present for Yule, because she deserved it. Making Alphard Black look like that was a true blessing.

It was even better seeing as it was Harry's birthday.

The unintended present from Ianthe was just one of the things making this a great day, even if the entire day was more than a little out of control. Melania, bless her sneaky and manipulative little heart, had decided to throw him a private party at Black Manor and invite practically everyone that Harry would have wanted there, regardless of politics, blood purity or whether or not they even liked each other.

He'd managed to get a break from Cygnus and his bitchy wife Druella though, as the spiteful couple had 'mysteriously' come down with the flu just a few days ago, hence they weren't able to attend the party. Such a pity. Such a convenient pity. How utterly and terribly coincidental the whole thing was.

(Harry had no bloody clue who'd done it; there were a lot of vindictive individuals in his family.)

From the Blacks, pretty much everyone else had deigned to turn up. Arcturus had of course graced everyone with his presence as Lord Black, and Melania was ecstatic over the chance to play hostess to something less formal. Orion and Honorine had left the confines of Grimmauld Place for the day, bringing along the four-month-old twins for their first proper outing.

Cassiopeia Black – crazy genius that she was – had dragged Pollux out to socialise, who in turn had ensured that Marius was present with his own extended family, grandchildren and all. Andromeda and Narcissa had turned up with their respective husbands – husbands who did not like each other, Harry was amused to see – and the sisters were happily catching up with their aunts Callidora and Cedrella.

Of course, propriety couldn't be observed all the time, so Dorea had quite happily gone and blackmailed Sirius into coming back to Black Manor for the day, and had somehow convinced Remus, James and Lily to come along and bring their respective children for the day, too. The younger couples had looked very out of place at the start, before Melania began fussing over Sirius and Remus – the latter of whose face had been hilarious to witness – and Charlus arrived to goad James into chaos through some hysterically inappropriate jokes. Much to Lily's disapproval. (Outward disapproval anyway, as Harry was convinced he'd seen a familiar glint in her green orbs upon witnessing her husband try and give Lucius a few feathers. He knew full well where he'd gotten his sense of humour from, thank you very much.)

Aside from the Blacks and their cousin families, some other magicals had been seen flitting around the manor, such as Frank and Alice Longbottom, the Prewett twins – who were hilarious to be around, in Harry's opinion – some of the Aurors like a young Kingsley, Amelia Bones and Moody, as well as Ianthe's brothers and their children. The Greengrasses weren't a family that Harry thought he'd ever get along with, but they were all really nice. (Well, the Slytherin version of nice, but he supposed you couldn't win everything.)

Children were also everywhere, with the oldest being Callidora's first grandchild, the twelve-year-old Odell Longbottom. There were literally kids all over the place, from a veritable army of Weasleys spawned by Cedrella's three sons, to a couple of other Longbottoms, a few Crouches, some reticent Burke cousins who'd been dropped off by their sneering parents before the adults left – rude much – as well as Marius' grandchildren of varying surnames. Others of Carina and Lyra's age were present too, with toddlers Draco and Alexander keeping a wary eye on Harry's daughters to his amusement. It wasn't his fault his children were ferociously independent with a low tolerance for bullshit at such a young age.

Funnily enough, the only child who seemed safe from Lyra and Carina channelling their Black ancestors was little Azalea Potter, who was oddly quiet for a child of James and Lily Potter. Azalea was happy enough, scribbling away on a colouring book next to Harry's twins, but she didn't unnecessarily draw attention to herself, either. The green-eyed girl – which of course made Regulus take the piss out of him even more, twat that he was – was rather content to bask in the presence of the more open girls, sitting back and essentially being a balance to the louder toddlers of the group. (Maybe Carina and Lyra were acting from female solidarity? He had no clue.)

At the moment, the children of various ages were either socialising with themselves or were being cared for by a group that included Molly Weasley, Honorine Black, and Marius' daughter Cordelia Boot. Harry could only imagine the oestrogen-fuelled tension in that room.

He himself was sat with his gorgeous husband – of course – while they spoke with Andromeda and Narcissa, the sisters looking extraordinarily excited as they discussed Andromeda's birthday plans. Ted and Lucius were sitting as far away from each other as possible while trying to stay with their wives, though considering the women were sat next to each other, the men were having a tough time of it. (And livening up Harry's birthday for him even more.)

Not far away was another group consisting of Arcturus, Orion, Alphard, Ianthe, Dorea and Charlus, all of whom were quietly laughing and swapping anecdotes while waiting for Melania. The older woman had wandered out to get something a while ago, but not before exchanging a wicked smirk with Alphard of all people. Harry could admit that he was a little worried – both individuals were evil incarnate despite their protestations – but hopeful that Regulus would save him at the end of the day. (Sex was an excellent motivator in relationships, he'd come to understand.)

Harry turned his head and murmured into Regulus' ear. "Any idea what your barmy grandmother's up to now?"

"Haven't the faintest clue, though you know as well as I that she shouldn't be underestimated. Melania Black is dangerous, and there's a reason that she and Aunt Dorea get along so well," Regulus muttered in reply.

"Well, that doesn't fill me with dread at all," Harry snorted as he squirmed slightly. He wasn't too bothered at the idea of surprises, but just imagining getting humiliated or mentally hurt in public wasn't exactly appealing.

"Oh, wow!"

Harry turned at the sound of Andromeda's awe and felt his jaw drop at the sight in front of him.

Melania was striding into the room with a smug look on her face, casually levitating a massive birthday cake in front of her as she walked. And massive was probably an understatement! The monstrosity in front of him had four tiers, two black and two silver, each of which had been decorated with moving lions and ravens. Small patches of golden piping included three repeating constellations across the cake: Carina, Lyra, and Leo with a highlighted Regulus star. Finally, there were a few decorative sticks poking out the sides of the cake, little silver twirls that gave the cake a whimsical air that suited Harry a hell of a lot more than the classical, 'professional' looking cakes some people had.

He loved it.

Harry stood up and walked over to Melania, pulling the older woman into a hug that was immediately returned. "Thank you. Truly."

She pulled back and smiled softly at him, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "There's nothing to thank. You married Regulus, so you're my grandson, too. I'm glad you like it, though. And you'll be glad to know that two whole tiers are chocolate cake, as per your tastes," Melania added with a teasing grin, making him laugh. He was never going to live his pregnancy cravings down.

"There is, however, one more thing," Melania revealed with a sly smirk, eyes crinkling in the corners from her mirth. "Harry dear, I understand this is your birthday, but there are some surprises for others here, if you don't mind?"

Harry shook his head in assent, bewildered at the turn of events but curious all the same. A quick glance showed Regulus was in the same boat as him. Not a bloody clue.

"You see, sometimes I enjoy looking at the family tapestry, studying the endless branches that span back centuries. This family's structure is incredible, the tapestry detailing its evolution through time. Its inherent magic is remarkable to behold, the ways in which it records everything of the House of Black, not missing even the most innocuous of minutia." Here the woman's carefree expression morphed into one of self-satisfied triumph.

"The tapestry can also register pregnancies before the witch or wizard in question even knows themselves."

Harry blinked at the words for a moment before he froze, wondering exactly where she was going with this. And to whom. Melania had said "others" earlier, so who the bloody hell in this room was pregnant? Was he pregnant again? He and Regulus weren't exactly using protection, not to mention that hardly a day went by that they didn't have sex, but he'd have thought that he would have known after the last time. His magic had been a bit … wonky with the twins, and it certainly didn't feel like that right now. What on earth …

Melania smirked. "As a matter of fact, the House of Black will be blessed four times over by this time next year."

The Lady Black let her shocking words settle over the group as she wand and conjured a purple banner with "Congratulations!" emblazoned across the front in black, the material fixing itself to the wall above the door as random fireworks went off around the room at irregular intervals.

"Ianthe, Narcissa, Andromeda, congratulations. You're pregnant."

The three women looked to be varying levels of startled, ranging from stunned (Ianthe), to delighted (Narcissa), to extraordinarily dumbfounded (Andromeda). Harry just grinned and clapped with the others, beyond happy for the women and their surprises.

Ianthe was someone that had never experienced motherhood in either timeline, even though it was something she clearly wanted, the look of dawning excitement in her blue eyes visible for all to see. Harry had of course known about Narcissa wanting more than a single child, which was very obvious from the smile threatening to destroy any and all traces of her pure-blood composure. Andromeda was where Harry was struggling not to get emotional, because the woman had told him after the war that she'd been cursed in the First War, her womb and reproductive system destroyed by Death Eaters so she couldn't have any more children after Tonks. Andi had never wanted a massive family, but she hadn't wanted her daughter to grow up an only child. Now she wouldn't, and the woman in front of him would never know the heartbreak that came with realising she was barren.

He was elated for all of them.

Melania gently cleared her throat and interrupted the celebrations (as well as the near hyperventilating of Alphard and obvious dizziness of Lucius), getting everyone's attention.

"If you remember, I mentioned four blessings, and I didn't mean that any of the ladies are having twins." She turned slowly, brown eyes slowly meeting Regulus and Harry's with maternal warmth that had his heart thumping in his chest. Does she mean …?

"You two shall have to figure out which one in particular is affected, but you're going to be parents once more."

"What?" he breathed out, stupefied at the news. They were going to be parents again?

"I …"

Harry looked to the side to see Regulus as taken aback as him, something that made him minutely more grounded, knowing that the two of them were going to be in it together. He turned and sent a pleading look at Dorea, hoping for her expertise. Silver eyes softened as she stood up, stepping closer to them before waving her wand over them like she had years ago during that infamous lunch. At least this time they already knew one of them was pregnant. (Because Melania had a playful streak a mile long, but the loving woman would never be so callous as to joke about something this serious. She might jest about wanting more great-grandchildren to spoil, but she would never build up their hopes only to crush them in such a cruel manner.)

The time traveller squeezed Regulus' hand as Dorea cast, their eyes locked as they waited for the visual confirmation of something they both wanted. Another pregnancy at this particular moment wasn't something they'd deliberately planned, but it wasn't a situation they resented, either.

He heard some intakes of breath and animated chatting so he smiled at Regulus before peeking down, seeing the familiar green glow and grinning widely, the knowledge of an impending child making him feel just as excited as he had when he first learned about magic and Hogwarts.

And excited because Regulus was the one pregnant this time.

"Well," his husband began with a slightly nervous tone, "this should be interesting."

"I'm more confused at how you didn't realise before now. You're already two months along," Dorea said dryly.

Harry looked at her with wide eyes. "What?!" He'd already had symptoms at two weeks, let alone two months! By that time, he'd been a horny chocoholic with an endless sex drive, yet Regulus had nothing to indicate a pregnancy so far. How bloody unfair.

The woman nodded, her grin mirroring the one on Melania's face. "Indeed. By the end of January or the beginning of February, you'll have a third child."

Regulus raised a brow, the composed expression at war with the visible joy threatening to take over his face. "Are you sure it's only one child this time?"

Melania laughed airily at her grandson. "Yes, Regulus. The tapestry would show if there was another child in there as well."

"Why didn't anyone realise with Carina and Lyra, then?" Harry asked with a small frown. Surely, they would have known if someone checked the family tree?

"None of us have monitored the tapestry all that often in recent years, it's only since your surprising labour that I decided to keep an eye on it. Hopefully there will be fewer unknown revelations this way."

Harry nodded at the explanation and turned to his husband, watching contently as the man gently touched his lower stomach, his expression one of awe as he came to terms with the situation. They were having another baby.

He stepped closer and took Regulus' hand, smiling as silver eyes met his alone despite the various celebrations in the room. "I guess we'll be decorating that other room sooner rather than later."

Regulus' lips twitched a little. "I guess you're right."

Harry carried on beaming like an idiot for a few more minutes before a thought came to him, his face morphing into a wicked smirk that ignited a wary look in the silver eyes before him.

"What on earth are you thinking about now?"

"Oh, not much. Just thinking about how you'll have to be the one dealing with all the horrible symptoms when they hit eventually. I hope you're prepared for a good few months of hell."

Regulus gaped slightly before huffing and shaking his head. "You're awful. Bloody incorrigible. I do wonder sometimes why I married you."

"Because you love me," was Harry's cheeky reply.

"Yes, I do."

Harry felt himself blush somewhat at the heartfelt words and gazed at his husband, probably looking far too emotional considering the people around. He leaned forward and fastened their lips together for a second before pulling back and wrapping his arms around Regulus.

It was time for the next phase of their small family, and they'd be together every step of the way.


A/N: Hey guys!

So first: yes, I brought Hedwig back! If I can have Voldy killed by a bloody tranq gun in the first part (three cheers for my twisted sense of humour lol) then I can have a younger Hedwig appear for some cute feels. I don't know a lot about owl life spans, but I figure magical ones would live longer, so here we are. Honestly, that entire scene was supposed to be the twins finding a random injured bird, but then my brain was like, "HEDWIG!" So, that's a brief description of my incredibly detailed planning for that part of this chapter.

In terms of the twins, I have no bloody idea when it comes to child development. I tried researching a bit, and I have cousins with toddlers this age, but I'm sorry if I messed this up. But I do believe any children of Harry and Regulus would be pretty intelligent with their environment.

And Regulus is pregnant because I said so lol. Just joking, it's because I didn't want people to see Harry as the 'submissive' one of the relationship. I know I've gone over this quite a bit in the story so far, but a few messages and whatnot show me that some people still see this Harry as the stereotypical uke in yaoi. Or sub in slash. (If these descriptions mean nothing to you, I have two things to say. 1. How the bloody hell have you even ended up here? and 2. Google search is your friend. Though I'd definitely recommend an incognito tab, especially if you share the computer with someone else.)

Anyway, that's all for now. Sorry it took a while, I was aiming for about 10,000 less words than that, if that helps explain things lol.

See ya next time!