Prompt: Walburga telling Orion she is pregnant.

"I thought we might dine out this evening"

Orion looked up from the page of his book to glance across the fireside at his wife.

"Oh?" he said as he lowered the book to his lap, marking the page with his finger. "And why is that?"

"I believe it is customary mark the anniversary of one's wedding day with something a little out of the ordinary, is it not?"

Ah. The 23rd February. Four years to the day since Orion and Walburga were joined together in matrimony.

It was indeed true that a couple were expected to mark such an occasion with a degree of celebration, but for the Blacks, the day brought with it little reason for joy.

For them, each 23rd February brought with it another grim milestone - another year of childless marriage. Another year without a new heir to the Black name.

Another year of failure.

As such, neither husband nor wife had seen fit to mark the previous three anniversaries with more than perhaps a passing comment on the fact.

So why, then, on the first day of the fourth year of their marriage, was Orion's wife so keen to mark the occasion?

"Very well" said Orion, glancing up at the clock on the mantle above the fireplace. Half-past two. He would have to send out an owl sharpish if they were to secure a last-minute reservation anywhere decent.

Trust Walburga to make such a demand on a Saturday, of all days.

"We'll go to La Favola. Unless you had anywhere particular in mind?"

"No, I'm sure that will prove adequate" replied Walburga, at last allowing her eyes to glance up from her cross-stitching to offer half a smile at her husband.

At the prices they charge, thought Orion to himself, wryly, I should hope it will prove more than adequate"

Twenty-five past six that evening saw husband and wife stand to join beside one another in front of the Floo fireplace of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Orion was dressed in black evening robes, finished with a handsome travelling cloak of deep, green velvet with serpentine silver clasps.

"You look- very fine this evening, Walburga" said the wizard, stiffly, as he busied himself with scooping up a fistful of Floo powder from the holder beside the fireplace.

Mrs Black had indeed made quite an effort for the occasion. Her elegant silhouette was draped in a cloak of jet-black, thinly trimmed in black fur, veiling her evening gown of deep, wine-red. Her hair, styled into an intricate up-dom was held in place so finely that it seemed the slightest little knock would send her thick, ebony tresses cascading freely down her back. Her look was finished by the delicate, silver jewellery adorning her wrists and neckline, matching the shining silver detailing embroidered along the high collar of her cloak. The silver in her piercing eyes seemed to glitter as brightly as the silver of her outfit.

Walburga Black looked more than fine. She practically shimmered in the candlelight.

"Thank you" she said with a smug smile as she stepped into the fireplace beside her husband and looped her arm to rest in the crook of her husband's.

If she had perhaps intended to repay the compliment, she had run out of time, for in an instant the pair were engulfed in bright green flames that transported them to their destination.

Neither a second too early nor a second too late for their reservation, the Blacks stepped out of the fireplace in the reception of the restaurant to be greeted by an over-eager little French wizard, who seemed to practically bounce on the balls of his feet with enthusiasm as he took their cloaks and showed them to their seats.

"So" said Orion as he dutifully drew out his wife's chair from under the table for her. "Do you intend on telling me the real reason behind this sudden urge to celebrate?"

"Is any reason other than the fourth anniversary of our wedding required?"

Walburga replied, as she took her seat and buried her face behind her menu.

Orion did not reply. He took up his own menu and began examining the wine list, occasionally lifting his eyes to dart glances across the table at his wife, as though intent on catching her out at the first hint of a slip up in her masquerade.

If there was one.

Curiosity burned inside him, hotter each passing moment that his wife pretended to remain oblivious to his plight.

The waiter had no sooner taken their order than Walburga had risen to her feet, excusing herself.

"Where are you going?" Orion blurted out before he caught hold of his curiosity.
Walburga paused in the middle of pushing her chair under the table, fixing her husband with a bemused, curious look, her head tilted to one side.

"What other possible reason could a lady have for excusing herself from the table in the middle of an evening, Orion?" she asked.

Orion prayed that the evidence of the sudden hot flush he felt in his cheeks was not as obvious as the hint of a smirk on his wife's face suggested.

"Very well" he muttered, busying himself with examining the intricate flower display on the sideboard across the room as his wife continued her retreat in the direction of the ladies' powder room.

She returned a moment before the wine arrived at the table, followed, shortly after, by the first course of their meal.

Orion, thankful for something to occupy his restless hands, quickly took up his silverware and took the first bite of his Saladier Lyonnais.

The meal proceeded mostly in silence, punctured, occasionally, with the appropriate remarks on each course of food in turn and over-laid with the sound of the calming string quartet that played, musician-less, from the corner of the room.

And throughout it all, Walburga Black remained remarkably and rather uncharacteristically demure, occasionally shooting her husband a sweet smile as if to cement the illusion of innocence in which he did not believe one jot.

By the time time the finished dishes of crème brûlée had been taken away and Orion had asked for the bill, he was almost ready to outright demand his wife tell him immediately what was going on. There simply had to be some reason behind this entire charade.
They left the restaurant as they had arrived, arm in arm, a pregnant silence between them.

"What is going on?" Orion asked bluntly the second they had arrived safely back within the seclusion of Grimmauld Place.

"Whatever do you mean?" Walburga asked, lightly, as she unfastened her cloak.

"Enough of your charade, madam. I am quite certain there is some reason behind this- this act of yours"

"An act?" Walburga repeated, fixing her husband with a curious stare. "What on Earth would I have to be putting on an act for?"

"Well- it's just-" Orion faltered, not quite able to find the right words.

When spoken aloud, his concerns were in serious risk of sounding rather silly.

"Our anniversary" he said eventually. "You never wanted to celebrate it in any way before"

Walburga fiddled with the gold wedding ring on her finger for a moment.

"Yes, well" she said, her voice quiet. "I think we can both agree there was never really very much to celebrate in terms of the... fruitfulness, of our marriage"

Orion's gaze quickly averted from his wife.

"Until now"

The husband's eyes returned to fix upon his wife just as quickly as they had retreated from her.

"Until... now?" he asked, quietly, cautiously.

"Yes" replied Walburga. Her face was stiff, her jaw clenched, as though she were fighting back a smile. "It would seem that this year I have rather a special anniversary gift for you"

"Oh yes?" Orion took a slow, prowling step closer to his wife, never once taking his eyes off of her.

"Yes" said Walburga, her voice almost a whisper. "A son"

Orion felt his heart skip a beat. These words, these so-longed for words that he had been tempted so many times to give up hope of waiting to hear, were truly the best gift he could have asked for.

"A son" he repeated, eagerly drinking in the sight of his wife stood before him, who had at last allowed her smile of joy free reign over her face. "This is wonderful news"

"Isn't it?" Walburga replied, fighting to contain the quiver of excitement in her voice.

"You're quite sure?"

"Positive. I've had my suspicions for a week or so but I visited a Healer yesterday and it's certain. We are going to have a son"

Orion's joy was punctured, suddenly, by the most seemingly-random of memories.

"But- tonight... the wine" His eyes suddenly flashed with an element of alarm. "You drank the-"

"It was spelled" his wife interrupted, lifting a hand to silence him. "I had them spell it before it arrived. No alcohol"

She shot her husband a somewhat mischievous smirk.

"As I said, what other possible reason could a lady have for excusing herself from the table in the middle of an evening?"

Orion's mouth fell open in surprise.
"Why, you mischievous-"

He caught a hold on himself, too flushed with happiness to be truly irked at his wife's deception.

"I would rather say this is a just cause to allow our anniversary the appropriate level of celebration it deserves, wouldn't you?" Walburga asked her husband, her silver eyes gleaming as he took her left hand in his grasp and planted a loving kiss atop her wedding ring.

Orion smiled, his matching silver eyes firmly capturing the gaze of his wife's in their hold.

"I should say so"