A/N: CW - some sexual content in this chapter; nothing too graphic.

...

3 December 1979

The early winter air nipped at Dora's face. She was tired from a lengthy day in the Department of Mysteries, which was only exacerbated by the uneven sleep she'd gotten the night before. She'd managed to convince Remus to stay with Sirius for the night, if only to prevent him from worrying over her evening mission with Dumbledore.

The prior night had been long and trying. They'd managed to implant a false memory into Rabastan Lestrange with some difficulty, but when Dora practiced Legilimency on him, she could see the memory clearly enough to prove its existence. However, she'd distorted the memory, to make it seem as if they'd had a drunken one-night stand near the beginning of November. It worked, as Rabastan spent an hour replaying the memory in his head, until his thoughts drifted to finding her for another night of pleasure.

Dora was disgusted with his thoughts, but it ensured that he believed himself capable of bedding her. If he believed this, he would believe she was pregnant with his child.

The full moon was to rise later that evening, and with Dora uncertain if she could transform into her badger Animagus form with her pregnancy, she thought it best to stay busy with a different task. She was waiting in a room at St. Mungo's alone, to ask a Healer about morphing, being an Animagus, and the possibility of a half-werewolf baby. If she was satisfied with the Healer's answers, she would visit Narcissa Malfoy.

A knock at the door startled her out of her reverie, and the familiar face of Healer Morgan appeared in the doorway.

"Hello, Miss Black," he said briskly. "I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting you before."

Dora almost corrected him, as he'd been the Healer to first treat her when she arrived in 1971, but she'd looked like someone else. Instead, she introduced herself and presented her predicament.

"Fascinating," Healer Morgan said. "Animagus, Metamorphmagus, and you're carrying the child of a lycanthrope."

"I might be," Dora said lightly. "You need to confirm that first, please, and I need your assurance that this information will not leave this room under any circumstances."

Morgan raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing as he cast a silent incantation on her bare abdomen. A soft, blue glow emerged from within, and he grinned.

"Congratulations, mummy," he said cheerfully. "Allow me to take a listen to see how baby's heartbeat is coming along."

His wand became a sort of horn, and he stuck the wide part against her flesh, with the narrow end in his ear. He put a finger to his lips, and nothing but Dora's silent, steady breathing interrupted the silence in the hospital room.

Morgan had his wand up to his ear for a longer time than Dora thought was necessary; it had taken no time for Remus to hear the heartbeat. She wondered if there was something wrong, when the Healer stepped back and grinned further.

"I had to listen many times, but you've got two in there!"

Dora's jaw fell open. She stared at him, at a loss for words.

"Two? Two babies? Twins?" she gasped, holding her hand up to her mouth. "Two of them?!"

"Indeed!" Healer Morgan was too cheery for such news. While Dora panicked, he had pulled a potion bottle from one of the cabinets, as well as a recognizable parchment. He took her hand, cut her finger, drawing a drop of blood from it, and sealed it as quickly as he'd made the incision.

The potion bubbled and shimmered, and he held it up for her to see.

"This confirms it again," he said. "I'll put a few drops on the parchment and we'll see when you're due."

Dora's mouth had become too dry. Her hands were cold and clammy and her heart raced. She could hardly imagine having one child, but how would she protect two children from the Lestranges and Voldemort?

"Early August, I see," Healer Morgan said. "Twins often arrive a little early, so I wouldn't be surprised if you gave birth in July." He rolled up the parchment and handed it to her, saying, "This is proof that you're expecting. You can share it with your supervisor when you feel ready to ensure you get time off for your appointments and your leave."

"As for your other conditions – I don't have authoritative evidence on Metamorphmagi or Animagi. I suggest you keep your morphing to a minimum. I wouldn't transform to your Animagus form after the first trimester." He put his head in his chin, his lip curled down on one side. "I don't expect that having a lycanthrope for a father would make any difference to your pregnancy or to your children. Tonight is the full moon, if I'm not mistaken. If you feel no change between now and the morning, I'd take that as a sign that your children should be perfectly healthy."

Dora remained speechless. She was having not one, but two babies. She was not having a single child, she was having two children.

"There are some potions I'll send with you," Morgan continued. He swished his wand at the cabinets, and a series of multicolored potions came zooming out of them. With another flourish, they filled a large, brown paper bag and arrived at Dora's feet.

"They're all labeled. Do you have any questions for me, Miss Black?"

"Obliviate." Dora pointed her wand at Healer Morgan, modifying his memory carefully so that he wouldn't recall that she was anything but a witch expecting twins. He was dazed for a moment, and blinked rapidly as his eyes came back into focus.

"Miss Black! I'm sorry – must've forgotten what I was saying."

"You asked if I had any questions, and I have none," she said hoarsely, as her mouth was still too dry from her anxiety.

"I should see you in two months' time," Healer Morgan said. "Bring dad along."

"Dad?"

"The father," Morgan said, pointing to her stomach. "If we're lucky we'll all be able to hear their heartbeats."

Dora's heart fell, realizing that in two months' time, the 'father' she'd be bringing with her would not be Remus, but Rabastan Lestrange. She swallowed the pain, finding she no longer had the will to see Narcissa that night. She would wait another day, so she could go to her mother again, as she found she needed Andromeda's comfort more than anyone else's.

…..

4 December 1979

Dora was finally at Malfoy Manor after another long workday. She sat in one of the smaller parlors with Narcissa at her side. Dobby brought them tea, biscuits, and cakes, but Dora wanted none of it.

"I was surprised to see you here at this hour," Cissa said primly. "Unannounced, I might add."

"I've got some…news," Dora began lamely. Though she'd been preoccupied with the idea she was going to be a mother to two children, she had given a great deal of thought as to how she'd tell Cissa that she was pregnant. She took a dramatic, calming breath and told Narcissa the fabricated account of a drunken one night stand with Rabastan, a surprise twin pregnancy, and her panic over what to do. Cissa kept her expression wholly neutral until Dora finished speaking.

"This could be much, much worse," said Cissa, after taking a small sip of her tea. "You caught it early, and you had the good sense to be with a pureblood." Dora exhaled impatiently, waiting for Cissa to say something useful. "Have you told anyone else?"

"No," lied Dora. "No one."

"Twins, too…I struggled to get…" Cissa stopped speaking, and Dora arched a brow at her.

"You're pregnant too," Dora said flatly. "Due in June?"

"How did you know?" Cissa said, looking uncharacteristically flustered. She cleared her throat and set her hands down. "It doesn't matter. I'm due in June with a single child."

"Congrats."

"It doesn't seem as if you want yours." Cissa's eyes became downcast, and Dora realized her mistake; Cissa had struggled for years to conceive, and her flippant attitude was likely difficult to hear.

"It's not that I don't want them," Dora said carefully. "It's more that I'm not married and I don't know what to do."

"Do you want to be married?"

"Umm…I don't know?"

"Before this…incident…none of us were sure if you were interested in wizards, myself included."

Dora burst into hysterical laughter. She wheezed, doubled over on the sofa, gleeful that in the eight years she'd been in this timeline, she'd managed to convince her relatives that she was uninterested in wizards. She'd played her part well enough that she was sure none of them would guess how desperately she loved Remus.

"I'm sorry," Dora gasped, catching her breath from her raucous laughter. "It's funny. I'm definitely interested in wizards, but between Sirius and Regulus, I haven't bothered with anyone."

"I see. If you were interested in someone, would you marry him?"

"I think so. I was ready to marry Regulus, but I loved him only as a brother." Dora sobered instantly; she'd have given almost anything to have her cousin back. If she'd become pregnant with Remus's children while married to Regulus, her life would've been very different—

"Dora! Pay attention," Cissa scolded. Dora blinked, startled, and forced herself to focus. "I asked you if you'd be willing to marry someone even if you didn't love them romantically."

"I was willing to do it before."

"Aunt Walburga would approve of the match…so would Bella. You're both purebloods and you're already pregnant with his babies. Bella hasn't been able to produce an heir, so your children would inherit everything." Narcissa's eyes shone with excitement. Dora kept her expression as neutral as possible; so far, her plan was succeeding.

"I already have the Black gold."

"You could have the Lestrange gold! Think of how much that would be! Where Bella and Andy failed, you succeeded." Cissa was nearly quivering with her glee. "Andy ran off…Bella has no children. Dora, don't you see? Together, we will inherit the two biggest vaults at Gringotts!"

Dora fought the smile that threatened to take over her face; Cissa's enthusiasm was playing right into the trap Dora had set.

"Why aren't you happier?" Cissa said, affronted. "If you're willing to marry him, you ought to. It's a smart match and our family will inherit everything."

"I don't know," Dora said timidly. "Rabastan's not…great."

"You've already done your part and provided heirs. You can let him find his release anywhere else, if you'd like. It's not uncommon in our circles."

"What the fuck."

"You won't want to use that language anymore if you're having children."

Dora rolled her eyes. "So you're saying that since I'm already up the duff with his kids I can send him off? That's…acceptable?"

"Rumor has it that Nott Sr. and Bulstrode Sr. have been together for decades," Cissa whispered. "Their wives don't say anything, but everyone knows. You'll get some dirty looks, but if you've got the ring and the heirs, it doesn't matter."

"I'll think about it," Dora said truthfully. It wasn't the solution she had in mind, repulsive as it was, but it would keep Rabastan sated. She took a small bite of a biscuit and nibbled at it.

"You can't think for too long. If you'd like, I can talk to Aunt Walburga for you."

"You'd do that?" Dora was surprised by Cissa's generosity; she thought she'd have to brave Walburga Black's wrath alone.

"Have you spoken to Rabastan?"

"Not since…"

"You still have the choice to terminate, then, but that would be a mistake. If it were any other wizard…but it's a Lestrange. I'll visit Aunt Walburga tomorrow. If she agrees, we'll meet with Bella, Rodolphus, and Rabastan. You'll see, Dora," Cissa said reassuringly. "We'll make this right. You may have made a mistake, but we'll turn it into an opportunity."

Dora fought the urge to pump her fist in joy. Her personal life was falling apart, but with luck, she'd be one step closer to defeating Voldemort.

…..

8 December 1979

Dora woke in her tiny flat that Saturday morning. It would be the last time she woke up in the flat, as she was moving out of the space she'd called her own for months. She was moving back into Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, for the foreseeable future. She glanced at her left hand; a gaudy emerald ring sat on her ring finger. It was proof that she was engaged to Rabastan Lestrange.

Cissa had pulled off what Dora had dreaded for days. Narcissa, in all her Slytherin prowess, convinced Walburga to see the lucrative side of the out-of-wedlock pregnancy. They met with Bellatrix, who was furious upon learning that Dora had accomplished what she hadn't – becoming pregnant with a Lestrange heir – but when Voldemort himself praised the news of the upcoming Lestrange heirs, Bellatrix could do nothing but agree to the union.

Navigating a relationship with Rabastan was harder than Dora cared to admit. She waited until Remus had moved out of the flat two days before to get near Rabastan physically. Remus hated the scent of any other man on her, and she didn't want to add insult to injury by smelling like the most repulsive man she knew, outside of Voldemort.

Rabastan was a sloppy, aggressive kisser, and Dora hated the feeling of his hands on her body. He wasn't tender or loving like Remus; he wasn't careful or slow in learning what she liked. Rabastan was a brute, and Dora feared the day she'd have to share a bed with him. She hoped she'd be fast enough at drugging him before he got any ideas.

She packed the last of her things with a heavy heart. She missed Remus fiercely. They'd only been together a month before being ripped apart again by the cruelty of her circumstances. With one final glance, she left the flat and Apparated to meet Sirius.

Dora found herself in front of a nondescript coffee shop in Muggle London. She was morphed to be nearly unrecognizable; only her steely grey eyes gave her away. She needed a place to speak to Sirius without being caught, and there was no better place than the grimy, forgettable shop ahead of her.

"How is he, really?" asked Dora, as soon as she sat down to meet Sirius. He was surprised by her appearance, but after showing off the garish ring on her finger, there was no other who would be wearing such an ostentatious piece in public.

"About as well as can be expected." Sirius scowled, after tasting the burnt coffee, and pushed it aside.

"He's a mess?" asked Dora. He'd taken the news of the twin pregnancy better than she expected, given that she was assured their children wouldn't inherit his lycanthropy. The news of her upcoming nuptials, however, had resulted in tears for the both of them.

"And you're not?" Sirius challenged.

"I haven't had a bowel movement in a week, so…" She raised her cup of herbal tea, as if to toast to her continued constipation, but Sirius grimaced.

"Eww. Stop. You weren't raised like—"

Dora wiggled her eyebrows at Sirius. Now that he knew her true identity, she felt freer to be herself, which was a small mercy in the mess that was her life.

"Never mind," said Sirius. "It's easy to forget when you're a part of my childhood, but I wasn't a part of yours."

"We were talking about Remus," Dora said curtly. "I'm not telling you anything about my past, present, or future."

"He's not taking it well."

"He's living with you now?"

"We're in Uncle Al's old flat. He took your room – says it still smells like you. He's planning on going on a lot of missions to keep his mind off of things."

Dora twiddled her thumbs and traced a circle on the weathered table. She promised to meet with Remus once a month so he could see her pregnancy develop and hear of the twins' growth. She could offer no more than that, and they would meet in Dumbledore's office to prevent anyone else from seeing them together. It was a brutal arrangement, but it was the best she could muster, now that she would be called Mrs. Lestrange in a few weeks' time.

"I'm not doing any better."

"I heard it's happening in two weeks," Sirius said, playing with the rim of his mug. "Is that true?"

"Yeah…the 22nd. Your mum's letting us move into Grimmauld Place, as long as she and Kreacher can stay."

"And?" Sirius tapped his fingers against the table impatiently.

"What do you want me to say? I hate them all," Dora said grumpily. "I'm not telling you much, in case you tell Remus."

"He wouldn't like it?"

"That's an understatement. The less he knows about my life with the Lestranges, the better."

"Do you miss him?"

"Every minute of every day." Dora sat up and met Sirius's eyes. "He's the love of my life. I've loved him for longer than you'll ever know. If I was someone else…somewhere else…some time else…do you know how proud I'd be to be having his children?"

"Do you know that every day I regret Regulus's death, not just because I lost one of my brothers, but because he would've let me have Remus's children in peace? Do you know that I hated myself for even thinking about terminating, because I'm so fucking terrified of losing him again that I couldn't stand the idea of losing the little piece of him that I'll get with my children?"

"I know I'll make it through somehow, Sirius," Dora said, holding her head in her hands. "I honestly can't say the same about anyone else. I've changed too much." Her chin quivered as she looked upon her midsection, which had yet to show any signs of the life growing within it. "These children give me hope – that if something happens to Remus, I'll always have a part of him with me."

Sirius coughed lightly and brushed the back of his hand against his eye. "Does he know any of this?"

"No. I don't want to keep thinking that every time we meet might be the last time I see him alive. After all this time…it can't end like that."

"What are you going to do if it does?"

"I'll raise our kids alone and tell them their father was one of the best people I've ever known." Dora felt the tears leaking out of her eyes and she held up a sleeve to wipe them away. "Please keep an eye on him, Sirius. I know he's struggling. I am, too."

Sirius didn't have to say anything; his solemn silence was enough.

…..

15 December 1979

A week remained before Dora's marriage to Rabastan. A Hen Night was expected of her, but she'd begged Narcissa and Bellatrix to spare her from the tradition. The last Hen Night Dora had attended was Cissa's, in which all guests were subjected to a family recipe of Veritaserum. This version was particularly potent and induced the drinker into speaking truths that would be difficult to attain from strenuous questioning. She was miserable enough without the added work of hiding any more of her life. They spared her, if only because of her pregnancy, and had chosen on a whimsical winter lunch with the society pureblood witches of the day.

Dora was looking forward to eating when she was interrupted by her maternal grandmother.

"Have you chosen any names?" drawled Druella. "Stars and constellations, I assume?"

"We discussed this years ago," Narcissa said icily. "Pandora prefers the moons."

"It's true," Dora said. "But I might try Alphard or Regulus if I've got a boy or two in here." She gestured to her stomach, which growled from her hunger. She was about to dig in when someone else grabbed her attention.

"If you have girls?" Bellatrix spat. "Useless, as far as heirs are concerned."

"Bella, calm yourself," Druella scolded. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you. Be happy that your cousin achieved what you couldn't. She is providing our families with two heirs."

"Has Rabastan given any preferences on the names?" asked Cissa, in a clear attempt to change the subject.

"Not really. We're focusing on the wedding now, I think. No names yet for our little stars."

While the others broke into a conversation on the possible names for the Lestrange children, Dora ate quietly. She and Remus hadn't discussed any names for their children. If she was any other and didn't have the constraints of old pureblood customs weighing on her, she would've chosen Edward for a son, calling him Teddy, after his grandfather, and Hope for a daughter, after Remus's mother.

However, she was set to marry and name children according to acceptable pureblood traditions, and such ordinary Muggle names would be too suspicious. The only name that came to mind was her mother's, Andromeda, but she doubted that choice would be accepted in her family.

"Moons are still nice, Mother," Cissa said impatiently, turning to Druella. "Pandora is named for a moon. Hyperion Greengrass is similar. It's a perfectly fine choice for our families."

"Which moons do you like, Dora?"

"Oh, err…Titan? Callisto? Phoebe?"

"Titan Lestrange does have a nice ring to it," Walburga admitted. "Perhaps Titan Regulus, after our dear, departed boy?"

"He'll have his father's name as his middle name," Dora said feebly. "But if there's more than one boy, I like the idea of honoring Regulus…is that all right, Cissa?"

"Of course," Cissa said firmly. "Regulus, Alphard, and Orion are yours for the taking…as well as all the female constellations."

Dora knew the Malfoys' son would be called Draco, and she had no intention of taking that name for one of her own children, as she'd long associated it with the smug, insufferable brat that would become Narcissa's son.

It would be at least two more weeks until she saw Remus again, and she had no intention of discussing baby names with him. All she wanted was to hold him, know how he was, and assure him that she loved him. Baby names felt trite when faced with the near-insurmountable task of destroying horcruxes, marrying Rabastan, and attempting to defeat Voldemort in the same movements.

"Maybe I will go with stars," Dora said absentmindedly. "Regulus and…"

"Cassiopeia?" suggested Druella. "Or Lyra?"

"Scorpius?" said Cissa. She twirled her hair in her finger and smiled at Dora.

More stars and constellations were offered, and Dora did her best to engage in conversation. It was better than a Hen Night, and it did give her ideas. She decided that the next time she saw Remus, they'd choose names together. Perhaps it wasn't so trite, after all, considering he'd see so little of her – and their children – until Voldemort was defeated. It was the least she could do for him, and she settled on making a shortlist of names to present to him when they were briefly reunited in January.

…..

22 December 1979

"You look lovely," Cissa said admiringly. "It's the same crown you liked before."

"Thank you."

Dora touched the flower crown, feeling a pang of déjà vu at the sight of herself in the same wedding robes and crown as she was meant to use in her marriage to Regulus. She felt no guilt in hoping her would-be groom met a similar end, so that she would avoid another arranged marriage.

"Don't you worry. I know what you're thinking," Cissa murmured. "Rabastan's already here. You won't be left again." Dora forced a half-hearted smile in response.

"It's time," Walburga announced. "Cygnus is waiting for you."

Dora followed a sullen Bellatrix and a beaming Cissa out of the parlor, where Cygnus and Druella were waiting for them. Dora felt the same déjà vu at the sight, recalling Cissa and Lucius's wedding years before. She had been compared to Andromeda then, and now it had come full circle, with Dora replacing Andromeda as the second Black heiress chosen to marry the younger Lestrange son.

Druella and Walburga went down the aisle first. They were followed by Bellatrix and Rodolphus, Lucius and Narcissa, and finally, Dora stood next to her "Uncle" Cygnus, finding it tragically ironic that he was her maternal grandfather, while she replaced the daughter he'd disowned many years ago.

Dora and Cygnus walked down the aisle. She fought her tears; she didn't want anyone to think she was crying out of joy. She kept her gaze steady on the Ministry official who would marry them, and tried to avoid everyone else's eyes.

The ceremony was everything Dora expected it to be; she and Rabastan joined hands, pledged their magic and lives to each other, and when the shower of golden sparks descended upon them, uniting them in marriage, her heart shattered. Rabastan planted a messy kiss on her lips, and together they walked back up the aisle as the new Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange.

Dora let her mind wander throughout the night, pretending she was somewhere else. She forgot the many faces she danced with; she knew Rabastan, Rodolphus, Lucius, and Cygnus had all taken their turns with her. Though she held many hands, she imagined herself as a child, holding her father's hand when they danced in their cozy living room. Imagining her little feet on Ted's big ones made the dancing a little less bitter.

Though there were many well-wishers, she imagined herself on the day she completed her Auror training, surrounded by friends and family congratulating her on her accomplishments. Imagining those she loved celebrating her hard work made the felicitations of her marriage sound a little less hollow.

When the dancing was over and she was called to disrobe, she hurried into the parlor, allowing the women in her family help undress her. She was redressed in undergarments she never wanted to see herself in again and bundled up in a traveling cloak to be sent back into Rabastan's lecherous arms. The lust in his eyes made her feel less human; she was not a witch in his eyes, but something to be conquered by his insatiable desire.

The goodbyes were plentiful and the repeated congratulations merry. At last, when they were out in the snowy December night, a dainty flowerpot was shoved into Rabastan's hand. The two spun higher and higher until they landed in magical Paris, where an enchanted carriage awaited them.

Everything was perfect, thought Dora, as she allowed Rabastan to hungrily undress her, once they were in the privacy of their opulent suite. The space was perfectly decorated and truly beautiful, with its many fresh roses, live fairies, and twinkling, floating candles. Petals formed a path from the doorway to the bed, although Rabastan neither noticed nor cared as he stripped Dora of her clothes.

When he called her his "little bride," she said nothing, allowing him to touch her bare skin with impunity.

When he stuck his tongue into her mouth, she permitted the unwanted contact, though it felt like she was being drowned.

When he pressed himself on her, she tolerated the feeling of his insistent movements against her frame, even if she felt a little less human.

However, when she was down to almost nothing, she held the little dignity she had left, and kept the most intimate parts of her body away from Rabastan's wandering hands and eyes. She clung onto thin fabric that prevented him from seeing or touching what she held most sacred, and found a way to straddle him instead, allowing herself to be in control.

Her wandless, wordless charms worked perfectly, too. A tiny bottle filled with a complicated potion found its way into her right hand. In between kisses that still tasted like firewhisky, she brought a few precious drops to Rabastan's mouth.

He stilled, and she held her breath, seeing him fall into a deep slumber. She undressed him fully, seeing his naked body for the first time, and grabbed her wand. She let the unique charm run its course, watching as her enchantment reached its climax. Rabastan's body shuddered, but he stayed asleep, as he involuntarily released himself. No part of what she'd done was clean, comfortable, or even desirable, but convincing him they'd copulated was tantamount.

She hurried to the shower, scrubbing every inch of her skin until it was raw and red; she feared it would be a near-nightly ritual for the length of their marriage. When she was satisfied with her clean, tender flesh, she dressed herself again. This time, she wore her own clothes; it was a small comfort in the lavish, lonely suite. When she looked around for a place to sleep, there was only one place that made sense.

It made little sense for her to sleep anywhere but the single, large bed in the bedchamber. She joined her husband on their marital bed, in the furthest corner possible. She curled up into a ball, and when the realization of what she'd done that day finally washed over her, she cried herself to sleep.