"The roads we walk have demons beneath, and yours have been waiting for a very long time."

Surprisingly enough, things went back to normal after that. Sherry spent his days at school, hurrying towards getting his GSCEs before his Hogwarts letter came along. Of course he was also studying magic way beyond any school's curriculum, but that was all expected behaviour for a Holmes.

Harry wasn't sure which clock Sherry was racing against. At the rate he was going, there'd really be no reason for him to go to Hogwarts at all besides for his OWLs and NEWTs.

And the socialising that Harry had hoped going to his current muggle gifted school would bring. Knowing he was an unholy mixture of an eight year old genius and a sixty year old sociopath had put the worries about his son not having any friends into fresh perspective.

When learning, he liked to chew on the ends of his quills, staining his lips black and making him look very un-Dark Lord-ish. Harry sometimes caught himself watching his son and wondering what it'd be like to have another little Holmes at the kitchen table. They did have the vow to Arcturus looming ahead, so it'd make sense to start looking for at least one other Black heir.

Apparently having three children was a Holmes family tradition, but Harry wasn't sure the world would properly survive even one more. Though he did have a bit of hope: Mycroft had really come into his own as an older brother, and Voldemort used to love taking people like Regulus, Barty or Severus under his wing.

Sometimes Harry worried if his son was manipulating him, too. He'd spent the first weeks questioning every interaction, trying to peel back layers of intentions and truths. In the end, Harry had decided that Mycroft was right, and if Sherry wanted them dead then he'd have acted on that long ago. Paranoia be damned, straightforward communication was the only way Harry knew how to make this work.

"Sherry, what do you think of siblings?"

The boy didn't look up from his notes or the muffin he was trying to cram into his mouth. "I'm amenable," he said once he'd swallowed. "Not too young, please. And I'm moving out before I'm sharing my bedroom."

There was still the guest room which Harry had partially claimed as his own, and—well, they hadn't looked into Eurus' room since she'd left. Sighing, he went back to the morning's post.

The Daily Prophet's fourth page had an article about Sirius being released from Azkaban next week. "A reformed man from a reformed prison," was the quote they'd gone for. Of course, Fudge had managed to spin the whole thing as his own idea.

Snape's owl was sitting there with another letter. Mum's ghost had asked Harry to write first, and now that they were properly corresponding it wasn't even that bad. Severus complained about the children he was teaching with a dry sarcasm that was funny now that Harry wasn't the one being picked on.

Hopefully, by next June, Harry would manage to convince the man to quit. The fact Dumbledore would be down another Potions Master was just the icing on the cake there. It'd be better for everyone's sanity if Severus left before the Weasley twins arrived at Hogwarts. He could retire into a nice job as a researcher somewhere far away, like Canada or Brazil, so that Harry and Sherry would never have to see him again.

Harry thought over his reply as he emptied the dishwasher.

Dear Severus,

I'm glad you could figure out the rest of what Lily had me write, because I bloody well didn't get it. Now that you're over her and you've realised that teaching is a terrible choice for you, I hope you understand I actually really don't want to meet with you, thanks very much.

We have history together, even if only I remember it. Let's just say that it's complicated. Anyway, Dumbledore's not the only person who can help a retired Death Eater get a job, and I'll soon have my hands full with a different ex-convict, so I'd be very happy to just keep it at that.

Sincerely,

Harry

Well, that was the gist of it. When putting it on paper Harry did paraphrase the bits that wouldn't make sense, and added another paragraph to make it sound less like he was trying to get rid of the man.

Harry watched the owl flap off feeling accomplished and ready for anything.

Then the doorbell rang.

… …

"Constant Vigilance!" Alastor barked, jabbing his wand into Harry's ribs in greeting.

"Down, girl," Harry said—Medusa'd gone right for the wooden leg. "Sherry, call your dog off."

The boy whistled. Harry could practically feel the petty smugness all the way down the hall.

Alastor had forgotten to banish the soot off his robes. "This looks like we'll be needing tea," Harry listened for the thunk-thunk-thunk following him into the kitchen.

Sherry didn't even pretend he wasn't watching them, though he did clear his mess of papers off the kitchen table when Alastor sat.

"Boy, you be careful looking into wards like those."

"Yes sir." There wasn't an ounce of contriteness in Sherry, but he could weaponise the wide eyes on his very young face.

Harry glanced over as he waited for the kettle to boil. "What? Why—actually, how did you even get your hands on the Azkaban schematics, Sherry?"

"They were in Auntie Eurus' desk," he said, blinking. "I was curious about where Sirius has been."

Of course Sherry hadn't minded the sanctity of Eurus' room. Harry didn't bother telling the Dark Lord that stealing and snooping were wrong, though he wished Alastor Moody hadn't caught them red-handed.

"Why does your aunt have prison maps lying around? Is that Nurmengard's wards too?" Alastor leaned over to study them.

Harry poured mugs for them both. "She helped redesign the Azkaban wards, but nevermind that. Sherry, put those back now, please. Alastor, I know you didn't come just to tell me off for papers I shouldn't technically have copies of."

"It's Sirius Black. They want to bring him here. Paterfamilias, shmaterfamilias, your grandfather's basically bedridden. Someone needs to look after that boy as he gets back on his feet."

"Oh." Harry rubbed at his face. "I was hoping Remus Lupin would do that. Sirius and I don't really know each other beyond a few visits?"

"No, when I say They want to bring him here, I mean Sirius Black is en route to the bloody premises. Fudge had him let off a week early for good behaviour. Hah! Minister's pissing himself over what the press will do come Monday. If there's ever a man in nappies, it'd be him."

"Hey, no kink-shaming," Harry said before his brain could catch up to him.

Sherry did not manage to hide his very childish giggle. Alastor's glare shut him up fast, though.

"Don't you need to walk your dog or something, boy?"

Harry sighed and dropped into the chair opposite the Auror. "There's no point, Sherry will listen in either way. Besides, this'll affect all of us. How long until Sirius arrives?"

"'bout an hour, give or take." Alastor didn't sound very happy about it. Although, Fudge hadn't done anything that the man liked since taking the office of Minister in 1980.

"Alright." The guest room would need a bit of cleaning. Harry sent a spell to activate the enchanted feather duster and mop before turning back to Alastor. "Merlin, does he have clothes or belongings or anything? Please tell me you didn't snap his wand, that's barbaric."

"I didn't snap his wand." Alastor didn't sound very sorry.

"Right. Taking a mass-murderer on a shopping trip down Diagon Alley to buy him new clothes and a replacement deadly weapon, what could possibly go wrong?"

"Isn't that the point?" Sherry piped up. "Nobody will be expecting him until Monday, so a few charms as a disguise should suffice."

"Maybe I don't want him to have a replacement deadly weapon just yet," Harry muttered, then went to make up a plate of biscuits. "Thanks for the heads up, Alastor. I'm sure it'll be a mess either way. Maybe Arcturus will let me dip into family money for this, at least."

"You could always send Sirius to Grimmauld Place," Sherry said.

Harry could picture the disaster of Kreacher's elves all tripping over Sirius as he poked at the doxies in the curtains. "I thought you Holmeses were supposed to be the clever sort," Harry said, nudging his son. With Alastor watching, Sherry couldn't even send back an answering jinx, though that frown fell clearly in the if looks could kill category.

Alastor walked Harry through a stack of paperwork and a plan of what needed to be done over the next few days.

Then the doorbell rang. Harry followed a barking Medusa to meet the man who could have been like a father to him, once upon a time.

.oOo.

A Dementorless Azkaban hadn't affected Sirius the way Harry had subconsciously been expecting. The man at his door was a bit sallow-faced and his breath smelled like he needed a trip to the tooth Healer. But his smile was real, making him look about ten years younger.

Twenty-eight going on eighteen, it was like he'd stepped right off of Hogwarts' grounds and was ready to find his place in the world.

Unfortunately for the Potter-Holmes household, Sirius had gotten it into his head that his place in the world was as Sherry's godfather, whether any of them wanted that or not.

He'd come right off the ferry with a fear of wide-open spaces and from the moment he'd clapped eyes on his godson he'd decided that Sherry was the adult equivalent of a comfort blanket. Three calming draughts had gotten them to Ollivander's. They'd collectively decided that Sirius would stay in the flat for the foreseeable future, just to avoid a repeat of that mess. Harry had nevertheless cast a bunch of tracking and alarm spells on Sirius' new wand, just in case the man tried apparating without a licence.

As far as houseguests went, he could have been worse. The man was polite enough to Mycroft and Harry, he forgot that there wasn't a House Elf to clean up his messes about a hundred times a day, and he refused to leave Sherry alone.

There was only so much genial patience the Dark Lord had in him before he'd snap, and Harry really didn't want any accidental Unforgivables going off under his roof.

"Sirius, I mean this in the nicest way possible," he explained, "but you need to give Sherry some space."

"Sirius, I know you love telling stories about James and Lily and it's quite nice to hear them, but you need to remember that Sherry thinks of us as his family too."

"Sirius, as funny as you find hanging out with Medusa to be, it's really fucking weird when you cuddle up to me on the couch. Also, she's non-shedding, unlike you. Enchant a lint roller or something."

The man had no hobbies beyond being annoying, and he slotted into their lives like one of those toys where the kid had to push the triangle block through the triangular hole, except that Sirius was a round peg that he kept trying to hammer into a square hole like a frustrated toddler.

A month in, Harry waited until Sherry was out, made two cups of tea, and knocked on Sirius' door.

"You know," he began, sitting beside his godfather on the bed that used to be his, "Sherry isn't like James. He's never going to be the kind of person you want him to be. For Merlin's sake, stop trying to force it. He likes you well enough most of the time, but being needy is only going to make things worse."

"I guess I don't know what to do with myself is all," Sirius said, "and I feel a lot calmer when I know he's there. I'm really glad you're letting me stay here by the way. I don't know if I've said that yet."

He had not said that yet. "Maybe tell Mycroft too, he'll be glad to hear it. Is there anything you like doing besides pranks and vigilantism?"

"I dunno. I was decent at Quidditch, but James was the real star. Besides, I don't think I could stomach being out in the open just yet. I liked dating and I suppose I was a bit of an arse back then. But when Harry was born it all changed. It was like we had something to live for again."

Harry sipped at his tea. "His name is Sherrinford," he said, gentling his words with a smile. "Have you thought about any jobs you might like?"

"Harry, I was imprisoned for murder. They're never going to let me near the DMLE. And they'll definitely not let me near children. McGonagall offered me an apprenticeship back then, did I tell you?"

He'd told them every time he transfigured something, which was about once a day for the past month. Harry didn't understand how Sirius kept finding things in their household that needed transfiguring.

He sipped at his tea and thought about the issue. Arcturus didn't want Sirius getting involved in family affairs, and anyway he'd gotten too old and frail to teach him now. Besides, Harry had managing the assets down to about three hours of paperwork a week.

The vow he'd made niggled at the back of his mind, the same way it'd been nudging him towards thinking about another little Holmes sitting at the kitchen table. If they'd be adopting another child, it'd be best to have Sirius out of the house soon.

"Even if Sherry isn't interested in your godfathering, he does like having a project. Maybe talk to him about it and you can figure something out together?"

"You're really going to delegate deciding about my future to your eight year old son?"

Harry frowned. "Why wouldn't I? He's a genius." He collected his empty mug and took another look around the room.

Despite being married, he and Mycroft had slept in separate rooms most of the time, enjoying having their own spaces. Sirius had taken Harry's clean white walls and hung up posters of metal bands and pictures of barely dressed men and women.

They would be repainting the room in pastel colours soon enough, Harry reassured himself. He'd just have to remind Sherry of the Unbreakable vow to Arcturus and his son would come up with plenty of ideas.

The wording had been that Harry would provide the House of Black with another heir to continue the line before Sherry left for Hogwarts. Arcturus wouldn't live long enough to find out that Sherry probably wouldn't be attending Hogwarts come his eleventh birthday. But it was a lot to bet on a probably…

He could hear the key in the lock and hurried into the hall to say hello to Sherry coming back from his walk.

.oOo.

"I've been expecting this," Mycroft said, setting down his napkin and brushing the crumbs on the table into a pile. "I've made a list of suitable candidates."

Harry blinked. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about?"

"Sherry's been looking into sending Sirius to France. I first thought you wanted your room back, but it's not that. Ergo, you want his room for something else, so I had Miss Reyes do some research."

Harry thought about it, then blinked again. "Anthea made a list of babies for us?"

"We keep a registry of Magical children. Anthea has created a shortlist of ones living in suboptimal conditions, yes."

"You keep a list of kids that need help and just…watch the list?"

Mycroft's disappointed look had Harry's anger fizzling out into nothing again. "Sorry," he said. He put his hand out on the table between them and smiled when Mycroft squeezed it. "Thank you, I'll ask Anthea about that. As for you, remember you have a choice. Arcturus is going to make me blood-adopt because the kid can't be an heir otherwise, but he can't make you do a thing."

"What happened to all that talk about the superiority of my bloodline?" Mycroft said, chin jutting. He deflated with a small smile. "It'll be our child regardless," he said, cramming two chocolate bourbon biscuits into his mouth as he thought. "I'd like another little Sherry. Does that make me a bad person, do you think?"

Harry frowned at him. He'd twisted his own biscuit open and was nibbling on one half. "If you mean wanting to pass on your genes, it's a very normal thing. If you mean wanting another little Dark Lord, I'd like to say for the record that I'm not interested in adopting a de-aged Grindelwald or Shiratori, thanks very much."

That had Mycroft smiling again. He demolished another biscuit, then helped himself to the leftover half of Harry's. "I'm sure you'll find the right child." He got up, reaching out a hand. "I'm off to bed. Are you coming?"

.oOo.

Harry spent the next week going around ringing doorbells and talking to parents, foster parents, and social workers. Most of the children were young, with the oldest so far being a four year old Anabelle Creevey.

He never did get around to meeting the Creevey family, though, because one night in November 1988, Arcturus Black went to sleep and didn't wake up the next morning.

On the family tapestry in Grimmauld Place, Harry definitely remembered that he hadn't died until '91, but Arcturus was a very, very stubborn man. In 1979 the Healers had told him he'd have three years before the cursed leg killed him, then he'd gone and lived another six. But looking at the old man lying comatose in his bed, Harry wondered if less stubborn might've been better.

The room smelled like cleaning supplies under a kitchen sink. Every breath Arcturus drew rattled like it should be his last. Harry wished he didn't know that there were going to be two years of almost-last breaths before the end.

Sherry had taken one disdainful look and buggered off to see if there were any good books in the library, but Sirius had the benefit of not being a little sociopath.

"There, there," Harry said, patting the dog that lay on the foot end of his grandfather's bed. "I'll hire him a Healer so we don't have to put him in the Janus Thickey Ward. He had a nice long life, at least."

When Narcissa and Andromeda came, they went in to see Arcturus together and left wearing forlorn expressions. Harry wondered if they had any fond memories of the man, because he definitely didn't. Even when Arcturus had been acting nice, it had been overshadowed by the fact the man was politically and socially a prick.

A prick who didn't even have it in him to die properly, Harry sometimes caught himself thinking, as if Sherry's sociopathy had rubbed off on him too.

Death was a part of life, but Blacks were the stubborn sort. Sirius still was too busy grieving with his family to pack his things, so it was sensible to put growing their family on hold until the shock wore off.

Until, once again, the doorbell rang.

.oOo.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Sirius said as he answered it.

Harry dropped the books he'd been reshelving and ran to the door.

"Hello cousin dearest," her voice crooned, "I heard they finally let you out of prison, all the fresh air must be terrifying."

They had ten minutes tops before Sherry got back from walking Medusa. "Come in, Bellatrix," Harry said, shooing Sirius down the hall. "I figured you'd want to see Arcturus, but I didn't think you'd come here."

He studied her as she settled onto Mycroft's armchair, glad that her back was to Mycroft's study. In his old universe she'd been unhealthily thin, and right after Voldemort's fall and at Walburga's funeral she obviously hadn't looked her best. Now, while the clothes were her usual dramatic lacy black, she nonetheless seemed…different.

Her skin wasn't tanned, but she'd gained a few more freckles. Her curly hair was glossy. Her face looked almost gentle with that smile.

Sirius came back in with a tea tray and sat as far away from her as he could. Harry poured and waited.

"France suits you," Sirius said.

"Ah, old news, you must keep up." She giggled. "I've been in Austria for years. It's beautiful. We've a sweet little house there."

"I didn't know we had a house in Austria."

"You wouldn't, would you?" Her grin wasn't nice, but it wasn't disturbing either. "Always too busy gallivanting around with the Potters to learn about the family's properties. There are a lot of things you don't know about, Sirius."

"I'm sure this isn't the time to teach him," Harry said, setting down his cup. "You came here because you want something from me."

"Indeed." She twisted her fingers in her lap, crumpling the pleats of her skirt.

They heard the front door unlock, then the padding of claws against the hardwood and the scrape as Medusa dragged along her lead. "Dad, this dog is impossible," Sherry called, accompanied by the twin thump of him taking off his shoes. "She tried to chase a squirrel," he continued, voice growing louder, "and got her lead tangl—oh."

His eyes were very wide as he looked in at them.

"Sherry, this is your Aunt Bellatrix Lestrange. Bellatrix, this is my son Sherrinford Potter-Holmes. And Medusa, the impossible dog."

"How do you do," Sherry said, then sat himself between Harry and Sirius. "I've heard so much about you."

"You can train dogs quite easily." Bellatrix drew her wand and licked her lips. "Just one little spell." She smiled beautifully.

"Not in my home," Harry said. He didn't take his wand from his pocket, trusting the wards to tell him if her intentions were hostile.

Sirius, on the other hand, was pointing his wand with so much anger that it was shaking.

Harry sighed, meeting an eavesdropping Mycroft's eyes before sending sparks off his fingertips. "All three of you will put your wands away right now. Sirius, go…somewhere else, I don't care, but I know you don't put two Blacks in one living room and expect the furniture to survive."

Sherry claimed Sirius' cup and helped himself to the chocolate biccies.

Bellatrix put her wand on the coffee table and sat back, looking more contrite than Harry had expected.

"This is family business," she said, glancing at Sherry.

It was a shame she didn't understand that Lord Voldemort was the biggest fan she had in all of London. "Grandpa Arcturus was teaching me some of the family business," Sherry lied.

"Just tell me what you want, Bellatrix."

She licked her lips, looking a bit mad. "I'd like you to annul my marriage."

Well. When he'd come into a whole new world looking for an adventure, Harry had never expected that.

"You've met someone!" Sherry crowed, only his childish dignity keeping him from bouncing on his seat. "Rodolphus was a terrible choice for you, of course. What's your new friend like? Are you pregnant?"

Bellatrix had puffed out her chest and was glaring down the end of her nose. "Excuse you," she said to Sherry. "Excuse me," she said to Harry.

"Sherry," Harry said, the warning in his tone only there for Bellatrix's benefit.

"My apologies," the boy said, slumping back against the couch.

"Alright." Harry went for a normal-looking smile. "I'll have the paperwork drawn up and make the arrangements with the Lestrange family. They can't argue, considering they got their heirs locked in Azkaban for the next forty years."

Bellatrix nodded, keeping her gaze fixed on his chest. Harry checked, but there wasn't anything on his shirt.

"Er." Harry tried to think what Arcturus would do in this situation and came up blank. The man had been all about calculating house costs against the worth of the woman staying there, but Harry was happy to just have her living in Austria and out of his hair.

"If you want a dowry you'll need your new partner to do things properly," Sherry said, sounding bored. "Have him introduce himself and ask Harry for your hand and all that."

Under her freckles, Bellatrix paled by about two shades. "That won't be necessary," she said, standing. "I'll be awaiting your owl, Heir Black," she said with a very small bow to Harry.

By the time Harry had gotten up she'd already rushed off. Medusa whined as the door clicked shut.

"She's up to something," Sherry said, going to lock up. "We should follow her."

"She's entitled to her privacy," Harry said, fetching the trunk that had all the official Black family stationery. "If the woman wants a divorce then I'm all for it."

Sherry let it go, though he did stay to watch Harry draft the letters that would get things rolling.

The sarcastic commentary wasn't helpful, but it was nice to have his company all the same.

.oOo.

For all their inefficiencies, the Goblins, the Ministry, and the Lord Lestrange got the whole thing done and dusted in less than a month. Arcturus' condition had only worsened, making it easy enough for Harry to act as interim Lord Black. It wouldn't be official until Arcturus got around to keeling over, but Harry wasn't in a hurry to have the title anyway.

When he handed her the paperwork and a small sum of Black Galleons as a have a good life and please leave me out of it gift, Harry hid four tracking charms on her.

She dispelled three of them, but made the mistake of not looking for any more. Harry knew it wasn't really his business whom she was rooming with, but he'd been getting into trouble his whole life by following people around under his invisibility cloak while not minding his own business.

He went to Austria in three apparition jumps, disguising the first by dropping Sirius off in France to take stock of the cottage in Provence.

He hadn't really needed the tracking charm. The house in Austria looked like someone had tried to build a combination of a tudor style house and a log cabin. Thank Merlin it was unplottable, because it didn't blend in with the neighbourhood at all.

Harry studied the wildflowers covering the lawn and the corkscrew hazel hedgerow that had grown into full-fledged hazel trees. The wrought iron fence brought the whole thing together in a nice Black family Gothic look that clashed beautifully with the white picket fence across the road.

Bella was home, or at least her coin purse was. They hadn't bothered with curtains, seeing as nobody could look in anyway—nobody except for a person keyed to the Black wards. Still feeling a bit silly for spying on the Dark Lord's suggestion, Harry wrapped his invisibility cloak around himself and settled onto a border stone to wait.

Bees buzzed their way through the garden. A woodpecker ate its fill under the rotting bark of the apple tree. The lights turned on in the kitchen. Eurus Holmes made herself a cup of tea.

Harry's heart jolted in his chest. He rubbed at his eyes.

She was unmistakable. Her clothes were magical; clearly Bellatrix had taken Eurus shopping in her own favourite stores. The hair was tied back, her wand tucked behind her ear as an afterthought. She refilled the kettle when she finished, something Mycroft had spent his entire life failing to teach her to do. The light switched back off as she left.

Harry reminded himself to breathe. He made sure the cloak still covered him and cast a warming charm on his stone. The only two street lamps on this bit of road turned on, and Harry wondered if they'd rationed them: one for each house on the street. He heard car doors slamming and voices coming from the direction of the village proper, but he didn't peel his eyes from the house.

It was better not to cast a Tempus, because he really didn't want to know how long he'd been sat there. His foot had fallen asleep twice. His eyes were dry from how little he'd been blinking. The kitchen lights turned on as two figures came in.

Eurus was bringing back her empty cup. Right behind her was a man with straw-blond hair. When he stopped by the window Harry fell off his rock.

He knew that face. Harry got up and walked closer. It looked a bit older, but Voldemort had obsessed over him enough that Harry could never have forgotten. Gellert fucking Grindelwald was frowning out into the night, wand spinning between his fingers.

Bellatrix stepped up right next to Grindelwald, her mouth moving. He shook his head, smiled, then turned to kiss her cheek. The trio walked back out of the kitchen. Another minute passed, then Bellatrix came back in, fetched a packet of biscuits and left.

Harry stared at the dark window until his toes were crying for a warming charm. When the headlights of a car landed on him he looked up, feeling dazed. The car puttered closer and he noticed he was standing in the middle of the road.

With one last glance at the house, Harry twisted on the spot and apparated back home.