"Let's pack our stuff now

And run away

We can't be all we want in this small town

Our life was rough so

Let's make out days what we want"

- Miserable Man by David Kushner

September 9th, 1979

Grimmauld Place

Kreacher did not expect to find the new heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black sitting inside a baby carrier atop a sticky counter in the Leakey Cauldron, even if it WAS a lowly half-blood child. There was a note left with her, which he knew he should not read without young master Regulus' permission. With a sneer, he hobbled over to the poor sod who worked the counter. He figured he should at least ASK who had left the infant.

"You! Who brought this baby here?" he croaked, effectively startling the barman.

In response, the barman shrugged, "I was in the back, and when I came back out, she was here. That was a couple hours ago. What's it to you?"

With a heavy sigh, Kreacher said, "This child is the heir to Kreacher's master, who sent Kreacher here to retrieve it. So since you are clearly unworthy of Kreacher's time, Kreacher will be leaving with the wretched creature now."

Quickly, the barman grabbed the baby carrier before Kreacher could reach it, "Wait! How do I know you aren't just kidnapp'n her!"

Kreacher growled.

"Read the note then!"

Narrowing his eyes at Kreacher, the barman slowly reached and grabbed the slip of paper, never taking his eyes off of Kreacher. Kreacher resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

It was obvious that the barman knew who young master Regulus was, as his eyes had grown exponentially larger. Sputtering, he spoke again, "Regulus Black?! This is Regulus Black's daughter?!"

"Yes," Kreacher sighed, strongly resisting the urge to just take the child and go.

But he had to be discrete, that's what the young master would want, he was sure.

Seemingly realizing just how much power the infant he was holding held, he hurriedly offered her up to Kreacher, "Take her! Take her! She's all yours!"

Taking the handle of the carrier, Kreacher cast his worst glare at the barman, "You will not ever speak a word of this encounter or this child again! Understand?!"

Frantic nodding was his only answer, which satisfied Kreacher enough to apparate back to Grimmauld Place, where he found would be his worst nightmare.

Regulus was leaving.

He had already packed his room up and was now digging around in Grimmauld's dark basement with a soft lumos as his only light. He was searching for one of the less dark objects his family owned: an illegal portkey. The Blacks had prepared them for many different places in case the Ministry ever found a way to punish them for their many bad deeds.

After searching for what felt like hours, but was merely ten minutes, Regulus found the box housing the objects. It was spelled to only open for Black blood, so he performed a small diffindo on his hand and pressed it to the box's lock. With a click, the box was opened, revealing an extended space holding about thirty different, dusty portkeys.

He was able to find the one he was looking for fairly easily as he had explored this box many times as a child, either hiding from his mother's wrath or playing adventure with Sirius (back when times were simpler). This particular object was a worn-out wool coat. These portkeys were designed to be used at any time, so simply touching it would activate them. Therefore, he chose to levitate the coat upstairs and to the entryway, where he had left his magically-extended bag holding his possessions.

By now, it had been almost thirty minutes since Kreacher had left, and Regulus knew he would be returning soon. Finding his…daughter (WOW that's weird) was an easy task; dealing with whoever was with her would be what would hold up the house elf.

Just as he was making final checks that he had everything he needed, Regulus heard a pop in the main sitting room.

He practically ran there.

What he found was a displeased Kreacher holding a baby carrier housing his sleeping daughter. It was like the world stopped turning. He had found his purpose in those rosy, plump cheeks and those small black curls atop her head. She was so beautiful…and not in an "oh babies are so cute" way. No, in a "that's my little creation who already has me wrapped around her little finger" way.

Kreacher's nasally voice broke him from his trance-like state, "Here she is, young master Regulus. I found her at the Leakey Cauldron, abandoned with a note." (tact had never been Kreacher's specialty)

Regulus snapped his head up, fury filling his features, "What?! Give me that note immediately!"

When Kreacher held it out, Regulus snatched it from his hands, eyes quickly scanning the page. The scant amount of information was frustrating, and he took out that frustration by burning the note with a snap of his fingers. It was useless, anyways.

He knew the name of the muggle woman who he'd met at the Leakey. He vaguely remembered that her sister was a muggle-born witch who had brought her sister out for a drink and left her there after meeting a new lover. So Regulus had figured she was an acceptable choice for coping with his misdeeds as a Death Eater.

He had horribly bad luck.

Figures it would lead to her getting pregnant.

After taking a deep, willfully-calming breath, Regulus turned back to his daughter and Kreacher. He addressed the house elf first.

"Make sure the locket stays hidden. We must leave quickly, but know that I will try to return one day. Don't tell anyone what happened today. Not even mother," he said.

Kreacher looked as if he was going to argue, but held his tongue. He had already seen how the young master would react concerning his newborn, so he knew it would be a futile effort. Instead, he just nodded and took one last bow to Regulus.

With a barely-there smile, Regulus nodded back, and then he was rushing back to the family tapestry. With two quick incendio s, his daughter and he were burned off the tree. At this point, his mother had already burned off too many faces in her crazed anger towards Sirius that she probably wouldn't even notice two new scorch marks. But to be certain, he placed a notice-me-not charm on the marks.

Regulus Black was nothing if not thorough.

Exiting the house, Regulus, holding his child in one arm and their suitcase in another, stepped just outside of the anti-apparition wards. And with a final look back at Grimmauld Place, his home for 18 years, he grabbed hold of the portkey, instantly feeling that horrible, gut-wrenching pull towards their destination:

…Sicily, Italy.

September 10th (barely), 1979

Sicily, Italy

The portkey dropped them onto what appeared to be a random street lined with market tents. It was still the middle of the night though, so it was nearly abandoned, the only life seen being a stray cat crossing the road.

"Well…I guess we're in this together now…daughter," Regulus muttered as he started walking towards where he spotted lights, "I really need to name you…"

For the moment, though, the father and daughter had to find a place to stay for the night. A simple inn would do, as Regulus planned to buy somewhere more permanent tomorrow.

Regulus decided he was going to use a step-by-step mindset in this endeavor. Any other way of thinking would certainly overwhelm any person, but especially a newly-minted teen father. This way, all he had to focus on was finding a safe place to sleep for him and his daughter, and not on how he was going to raise a child all alone while hiding from the entire wizarding world.

Early the next morning, Regulus left the inn he had found in the same state he had found it, with a baby in one arm and a suitcase in the other. However, this time he was in search of a place to LIVE, not one to simply sleep in. This was a more delicate process, considering he was finding a place where he was going to raise his child.

It had to be perfect.

And it was.

He found a compound right on the edge of the city, sitting up against the cliffs. It was considerably large and ornate, perfect for a Black. It would need what his brother would call "elbow grease," but Regulus could envision a life there.

The three-story house was made of the traditional stone found in most buildings in Italy, and there was a beautiful cobblestone driveway leading up to it. He could see where there once was a grand garden (which would soon be filled with many magical and muggle plants, he thought) . There was a pool in the back, which of course made him imagine teaching whats-her-name how to swim, which in turn made him tear up.

The dad corny feelings were already beginning.

Now the compound wasn't cheap, as anyone hearing the word 'compound' would assume. But he had his inheritance from Alphard to pay for it. Sirius got a majority, which he was told was all, but Regulus still got something. He figured it was Alphard's hope that he would someday be strong enough to leave like his brother. Regulus had never imagined that hope to be anything but unfounded.

Jokes on him, he thinks.

Overall, he had been given plenty of time to start imagining an ideal life here, and he was too deep to back out now. He refused to give his daughter anything but the best, and if that meant making their compound into a fortress, he would gladly put in the work.

Later, after Regulus had quickly transfigured some things left over in the house into a suitable bed for him and a cot for the baby, he could be found sitting up on his bed watching his daughter sleep. She was a symbol of all the goodness he had buried inside, and he already feared losing her.

To divert his fearful thoughts, Regulus was attempting to name his daughter. It was a big decision, one that would set the stage for who she would become.

After all, she was everything.

His current predicament was deciding whether or not he should keep the Black family tradition of naming their children after stars. On one hand, it would be associating her with the other horrible traditions his family performed, and on the other, it would be like one big "fuck you!" to his family.

Thinking of Sirius, he decided to defy everything his parents stood for.

Standing up, he leaned down to gently kiss his everything on the forehead and whispered, "Welcome to the world, Astrea Maeve Black."

A powerful name for a powerful girl

Please be kind :)

If anyone wants to make some art for this fic, don't forget to send it to me!