Orion's grip tightened so hard around his quill that he feared it might snap. He stared down at the document he had been attempting to finish editing for hours now, but to no avail. For every time he attempted to set his mind firmly to the task of marking required edits in the draft copy of the business proposition his father had given him the job of arranging between the Black and Bulstrode estates, his efforts were thwarted by the sound of yet another piercing shriek ringing through the house from the nursery on the floor above.

Sirius, his six-month-old son, had not stopped crying for more than a few minutes at a time for most of the previous night and now the current day. He cried relentlessly, loudly and strongly. It seemed that there was nothing with the power to placate the child. At least, that seemed the most logical explanation that Orion could assume. As father and head of the house, there were far more pressing matters more suited to his attention than to the care of a child. That far more feminine of work was the domain of the women of the household - namely, the boy's mother and nursemaid.

Orion practically tossed his quill onto its stand and leaned back into his chair with a heavy sigh of defeat. He rubbed at his throbbing temple, wishing beyond hope that the child would just be quiet long enough for him to finish this one task. Was it really too much to ask?

Gritting his teeth, he rose from his chair and marched out of the study, intent on getting to the bottom of this most troublesome obstruction to the completion of his work.

"In the name of Salazar, what is the meaning of all this noise?" he demanded of his wife, whom he found sat at her writing desk in the corner of the parlour.

Walburga looked up from the letter she appeared to be attempting to write, but from the furrowing of her brow and distinct lack of writing on the parchment laid out before her, Orion suspected that his wife was finding their son's incessant wails as hindering to her own tasks as he was his own.

When she looked up at her husband, however, Walburga's expression turned to one of tired irritation - at him.

"This 'noise', Orion, is your son" she quipped, dipping her quill determinedly into the ink pot. A little too determinedly - several spots of ink dripped from the overloaded nib as she withdrew it.

"I am perfectly aware of what the noise is, madam" Orion replied, stepping forward. "What I am not aware of is what is intended to be done about it, and why it has been allowed to persist thus far"

Walburga arched a perfectly-shaped eyebrow and fixed her husband with a knowing look.

"Sirius Orion is teething" she said. "It is a painful process, and one which is perfectly normal for a child of his age to express a fair degree of displeasure towards. That is all. It will pass, in time"

"That is all?" Orion repeated, unsatisfied. "Is there no way of calming him? Or are we to suffer this racket until the boy's trouble has passed?"

"Of course there are ways" Walburga sighed impatiently. "I'm quite sure the maid will have attempted the appropriate remedies-"

"I can hardly believe that. If she had, perhaps I might have had the peace and quiet required to finish this damned business proposition draft, by now"

"If it is peace and quiet you require, perhaps you ought to consider casting a silencing charm around your study?" Walburga fixed her husband with a withering look. "Or do you find yourself presently relieved of your skills as a wizard?"

Orion felt himself burn at this indignant remark. But it was true, of course. He could simply cast a silencing charm around his office and be none the wiser to the commotion going on elsewhere in his house.

But somehow, each time he felt the urge to reach for his wand, he'd found himself unable to carry out the act of blocking his son's cries from earshot.

A sentiment which, considering the lack of such a charm placed around this room, his wife shared.

"Are you quite certain all is well upstairs?" he asked.

"Don't talk nonsense, Orion" Walburga snapped dismissively.

She looked away, making a great show of busying herself with the sheets of letter-writing parchment and envelopes she had laid out across her desktop, but never really doing anything with them. It was a façade - and one which Orion could see straight through.

Walburga was clearly on the edge of her seat, fighting against the urge to abandon her proper place downstairs in favour of investigating the goings-on upstairs in the nursery. The sound of her child's cries had her itching to go to him. It was clear as day to see - to her husband, at least.

"I am merely suggesting that surely if the girl had the situation under control, then the boy ought to have been quietened by now. And considering the expense involved in keeping her-"

"Alright" Walburga snapped, shuffling her pile of papers for what must have been the fifth time. "If it will set your mind at ease and allow you to get on with this important work of yours, then we will go up to the nursery and investigate"

She threw aside her chair and led the way out of the parlour at a brisk march. Orion followed in her wake.

The sight that greeted them as Walburga threw open the door to the nursery was of the their son grasped precariously in the unsteady grasp of the young nursemaid the family had hired shortly after Sirius was born. She paced back and forth across the room with the upset child in her arms. The girl's cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone - she looked to be on the verge of tears herself.

"What is the meaning of this?" Walburga demanded, marching into the room.

The startled girl flinched and gave a gasp. Her arms tightened around the wailing child as her wet eyes jumped from Orion, still stood in the doorway, to Walburga, standing before her with her hands on her hips and a fierce glare.

"Mrs Black! I-"

"For goodness sake, girl! Are you incapable of a task so simple as calming an infant?" Walburga demanded.

"I am sorry, Mrs Black, truly" the girl pleaded in a stammered voice. "I have tried, truly. I've given him a dose of the pain-relieving potion, but he just won't quieten"

Sirius, who had momentarily paused for breath, began crying anew. His nursemaid gave a sniff of her own as she attempted to soothe the boy, an act which only served to further enrage her employer.

Orion observed the way his wife's foot began tapping impatiently against the floor, the way her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. Both signs he knew well as signals that her limited patience was reaching its end.

"Well it's no wonder, if that is how you are trying to calm him. Give him here-"

The terrified girl put up no protest as the mother practically snatched her son from her. Her doe eyes widened as she watched in disbelief as Sirius's cries quickly began to trail off and fade away in his mother's tight hold. Within mere moments, the shrieks which had pieced the air for hours on end had disappeared completely, leaving only faded whimpers in their wake.

"There - you see?" Walburga glared over the top of her son's head at the nursemaid. "A perfectly simple task, and yet one you seem to be incapable of mastering"

Orion observed, bemused, as the nursemaid seemed to shrink under his wife's scathing criticism. In a degree of fairness to the girl, it was plain for all to see that it was not, perhaps, entirely the fault of her own efforts that had caused Sirius to quieten the moment his mother had taken hold of him.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Black" the nursemaid murmured. "I will try to-"

"You will try nothing" Walburga cut her off, sharply. Her hold on the infant in her arms tightened visibly. "I haven't the time or patience to deal with incompetence. We pay you good gold to tend to our son, yet you have made it perfectly clear today that you are simply not up to the job"

The girl made no effort to hide the sobs threatening to escape her, now.

"Mrs Black, please! I- I can do better, truly! If I could just-"

She made an attempt to reach forward to take back the child - a move which sealed her fate.

Walburga flinched backwards. Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"You will do nothing besides pack your bags and leave this house - immediately" she seethed.

The girl broke into a fresh fit of sobs as she hastened to obey. Orion could almost have found himself feeling sorry for her, if it weren't for the distraction of the amusing glimmer of triumph he could see in his wife's eyes. She positively beamed like the winner of some prize.

"Was that entirely necessary?" he asked, striding forward to stand beside his wife. He spared a quick glance for his young son, now dozing peacefully against his mother's chest.

"Of course" Walburga replied, firmly. "That silly girl is clearly not up to the job of dealing with Sirius Orion. He would never have settled if I'd left him in her care. And besides-"

She looked up at her husband, her grey eyes twinkling.

"If our son wouldn't settle, however would you complete that 'damned business proposition draft'?"

Orion couldn't help but smirk in reply.

"A point well made, madam" he said. "Then if the matter at hand is solved, perhaps it is best if I return to my work"

"It most certainly would be best" replied Walburga, shooting her husband a stern look. "And it seems my work will have to wait" She sighed in supposed irritation. "I shall have to tend to Sirius Orion myself, now. Until a suitable replacement can be found"

Orion suppressed a remark questioning the nature of the business to which she referred. Writing social correspondence hardly counted as important work, in his mind.

And besides, he thought to himself as he paused in the doorway to observe his wife sinking into an armchair with their now-contented son still clasped tight to her chest, it was perfectly clear for anyone to see that tending to Sirius Orion was the only work that Walburga Black was interested in.