Sirius held the door open for Harry as they got home. Everybody was glad when he'd finally been discharged a week into the New Year. Harry, because he could finally get away from Sirius, Sirius because only then could he be sure his wife and children were healthy and even Crosby was happy not to spend everyday with his father 'attempting' to take care of him.

Harry was still somewhat hostile to him and there was none of the subtle flirting or passionate undertone that they'd had their relationship before. Harry put Crosby down on the floor and he ran off, following one of his kneazles into another room.

After one look at the messy drawing room, Harry also disappeared and Sirius watched him go into a cupboard, coming out with a vacuum in front of him and feather duster in hand. She shook his head and tried to pull it away from him.

"Oh no, the healer's said you must relax, not go on a cleaning spree." He said and Harry pulled it back.

"By cleaning up the mess you and Crosby have made over the past week, I am relaxing. Now let go!"

"No! You let go!"

"Mum!" Crosby called and from the sound of urgency in his voice, both Harry and Sirius let go and left the feather duster forgotten on the floor. From the bottom of the stairs, both of them saw not panic, but a look of glee on his face he usually only got when he felt his younger sibling's kick his hand.

"What is it Crosby?" Sirius asked and he beckoned them to come before running off. Sirius and Harry gave each other a look and started up the stairs. Sirius noticed the crib still half up the stairs.

"How did that get there?" He asked Harry curiously.

"Oh, I was pushing it up and didn't quite get to the top." Sirius looked at him ludicrously.

"Are you crazy? No wonder you went into labour early!" Harry stared angrily back.

"Well how else was I supposed to get it upstairs? They said to expect them by New Year and there was no one else to do it!" They glared at each, not breaking eye contact until Crosby laughed loudly from the second floor.

They found him in the second last room on the right, kneeling over something in the corner.

"Crosby?" Harry said timidly and Crosby looked at them before calling them closer. Harry and Sirius gave each other another look and walked over to see what he was looking at. After seeing what it was, Sirius's hand gripped his hair and he stood up cursing.

"Oh no! Not more 'effing kneazles!"


"Twelve. Twelve bloody kneazles." Sirius said shakily he and Harry sat in the kitchen after finding the kneazles had created ten little ones.

"Calm down. I'll go around in a few days and ask if anyone wants to buy any kneazles." Harry said as he stood up and poured the boiled water into two mugs before adding the teabags. There was a beeping and Harry retrieved a bottle from the microwave.

"Normal Kneazles, they'd have eight kittens, but ours, we had to get the ones that have ten of them. Stupid over-fertile things need to be sterilized."

"You managed to get me knocked up with your son and then again a year later with a set of twins before I even was of legal age. And by the number of rooms in this house, god-knows how many more times you're planning on doing it. And you have the guts to call our kneazles over-fertile!"

"What's your point?" Harry tested it on his palm before giving it to Crosby, who sat under the table, drinking it eagerly. He gave one mug to Sirius before sitting down across from him with his own.

"Would you like me to have you sterilized?" Sirius looked horrified at the thought and closed his legs. "Thought so."

"So you didn't check that it was a male and a female when you bought them?"

"I told you, Crosby chose one and the lady decided to give me another. I guess she thought we wanted them to breed."

"But afterwards, didn't you check?"

"Well you didn't really give me much of a chance when you started shouting, got drunk and then decided to try your hand at parenting skills that next day…" Sirius sighed and buried his head in his hands.

"How is it possible, the boy can have a mother who doesn't and never has liked kneazles and a father who can transform into a dog, and yet, he likes, cats." He said the last word like it was an enemy.

"Well, I don't think you ever transformed for him."

"What? Of course I have."

"I've never seen." Sirius looked astounded. He put his tea down. "Hold on, I have an idea." He suddenly disappeared and in his place was a large black dog Harry hadn't seen in a long time. Crosby dropped the bottle and with a loud laugh of delight, cuddled the dog around it's neck. He looked up at Harry with an 'I-told-you-so' expression before letting Crosby climb on his back and running off into another room.


Harry was just drifting off to sleep that night alone in his and Sirius's bed. It had been hours and him and Crosby were still running around the house, the kneazles forgotten in their basket. As long as Sirius put him to bed when they were done and didn't wake him, Harry didn't mind much.

He was jolted awake a few minutes later by a hard kick from one of the babies and the door banging against the wall as it was flung open. Sirius looked worried as he hurried in, Crosby in his arms.

"What's wrong?" Sirius put Crosby on the bed as Harry put on his glasses. He was sneezing non-stop.

"I dunno, he just started sneezing, he hasn't stopped." Harry took a tissue and wiped the trail of snot dribbling from Crosby's snooze. He stopped for a second before the sneezing started, worse than before, splattering Harry's glasses with snot. Harry was used to gross bodily fluids from his son by now and ignored this before picking him up and waddling to the bathroom, Sirius following.

He ran the bath water and started stripping Crosby of his pyjamas, noting how they were covered in little black hairs. The sneezing slowly stopped and as Harry picked him up to put him in the water, he saw the blotchy rash all over the toddler's body. He knew almost instantly what was wrong. This was only confirmed as the rash slowly faded after a few minutes.

"What's wrong? Do you know what happened?" Sirius asked as Harry finally wiped his glasses off on his robes.

"I have a feeling… But you're not going to like it."

"Tell me."

"I think he's allergic to dogs…"


It is with great reluctance I write this message. Due to messages from reviewers of the last chapter, the first two reivews to be exact, I have decided that there will be no more sequels to this story. It has been my passion for a long time but I'm taking the trouble I have been having with the sequel as a sign that it is time to leave it alone. There are going to be loose ends due to this that I will leave in case I ever do feel the passion to write this again. I will however, be finishing 'Will it ever end?', so do not run away yet.

My deepest regrets.

The Mpreg Spirit