Stella Juniper Lupin was born just before dawn after the four-hundred-and-twenty-second Quidditch World Cup, at St Mungo's Hospital. It had been an impossibly quick and easy birth thanks to Dora's metamorphmagus abilities, or so he overheard the Healers saying later. But to Harry, who didn't know much about births and had opted to keep it that way and waited in the corridor while Moony and Andromeda went back in to help or watch or whatever people did during birthings, those twenty minutes had seemed to take an age.
Finally, the door swung open, and Moony's patronus, huge and dazzlingly bright burst into the corridor. Moony himself stumbled out after it, looking dazed.
He stopped about two feet from Harry and blinked, apparently lost for words, then managed to say, "I'm a father." He didn't sound like he quite believed it, but there was a fierce joy in his scent, warm as sunshine and infectious as laughter. Harry smiled. "A father." In a very un-Moony-like manner he suddenly closed the distance between himself and Harry, yanked him into a hug, and spun him around. Harry laughed, and Moony put him down, suddenly smelling sheepish. "I- would you like to meet your godsister?"
Godsister. Harry was lost for words, but Moony seemed to understand. He put an arm around Harry and guided him inside.
The room smelled faintly of blood and cleaning spells, and a new scent, a soft, warm one, that Harry's wolf-nose immediately identified as 'baby'. Andromeda and a pair of Healers were fussing over Dora, and Ted was in a chair beside Dora's bed, holding the hand of the arm she didn't have wrapped around the tiny, moving bundle that was her daughter.
She was pale and looked tired, but she was awake and healthy-looking, which was more than could be said for the last time he'd seen her. Her hair was bright pink, and curly and her smile widened when she spotted Harry.
"All right," Andromeda said, rather impatiently. "Harry's here, I want to know her name!"
"Everyone," Dora said, "meet Elvendork." Andromeda's head snapped up, and Harry stared, until Moony snorted and Dora laughed. "Joking, joking-"
"Your daughter's name isn't a joke, Nymphadora," Andromeda snapped.
"Says the woman that picked Nymphadora," Dora muttered, and Harry saw Ted hide a smile. "Stella," she said. "Stella Juniper Lupin." For all her joking, Dora followed her announcement with a nervous look at her mother. "It's not too long, and it's not too old-fashioned, but it's- Remus and I thought it'd be nice to give a bit of a nod to the old Black tradition of star names…"
"It's lovely," Andromeda said, dabbing at her eyes. Dora beamed, then pulled her hand free of her father's to gesture at Harry to come over. He inched closer to the bed, holding his breath.
Stella was even smaller than Harry had expected, with a pink, scrunched, little face that reminded Harry a bit of the gnomes at the Burrow - not that he'd ever, ever say so - and a tuft of brown hair atop her head. As he watched, she moved slightly in her blankets and one of her tiny hands curled into a fist.
Harry loved her immediately.
Sirius crossed out yet another line, smothered a yawn with the back of his hand, then re-dipped his quill in ink and tried again.
This time the night before, he and Robards had been patrolling the World Cup's noisy, busy campsite, confiscating love potions from avid Quidditch fans, and stepping in to settle the odd disagreement before it got out of hand.
His library at Grimmauld was far, far quieter; Kreacher was downstairs preparing a very late dinner, and Harry was yet to emerge from his room; he'd been using the day to catch up on the sleep he'd lost the night before. Sirius was more than a little envious; he'd gone straight from work that morning to meet his new niece, but been sent home by Dora after he'd fallen asleep in the visitor's chair. He'd napped when he got home, of course - long gone were the days where he could pull an all-nighter and still function properly, and he knew that - but he'd forced himself to get up much sooner than he'd wanted to; he had too much to do.
Sirius sighed and scratched out another couple of words. He'd been at it an hour, and so far, all he was happy with was:
To Mr Rufus Scrimgeour,
It is with the utmost regret that I write this letter to inform you of my resignation as an Auror of the Ministry of Magic.
He massaged his forehead with his free hand and sighed again mouth turning down as his eyes fell on his Sidekick, which sat on the table beside his inkwell.
I no longer feel- Sirius paused, then scribbled that out.
There was a creak on the stairs, and then the library door squeaked as it opened. Harry wandered in in his pyjamas, looking sleepy in a well-rested sort of way. His pyjamas had been new at the beginning of the holidays, to replace the ones he'd outgrown last year, and already the trousers were short enough that they were showing all of Harry's ankles. Teenage growth spurts were beyond ridiculous, in Sirius' opinion.
"Evening," Harry mumbled, and came to sit at the table. Sirius folded his letter as casually as he could manage, and Harry's eyes went to it. Not sharply, or curiously, though, as Sirius had expected; it seemed as if his eyes had gone to the movement reflexively, but not really bothered to focus on it.
"Evening," Sirius said in reply, and Harry gave no indication that he'd heard. "Everything okay?"
"Mmm," Harry said distractedly, but he didn't smell upset, just… lost. After a moment he looked up. "When Regulus joined the Death Eaters, was it because he wanted to, or because he was told to?"
Sirius stared at him.
"Both," he said after a moment, lowering his quill. "Why do you ask?" Harry shrugged, looking away. "A dream?"
"No. I- never mind." Harry made to stand.
"I don't mind you asking," Sirius said, and Harry hesitated. "It just took me by surprise, that's all." Slowly, Harry sat again. "He- my parents never actively took part in the war, but they certainly thought Voldemort had the right of it with his pureblood supremacy rubbish. Reg… he grew up listening to all of that-"
"So did you though, and you never..."
"I went into Gryffindor," Sirius said. "My influences were different to Reg's. And where Andy was my favourite cousin, Reg always loved Cissy and Bella. Bella- well, you've never met Bella and I hope you never have the dubious pleasure-" Honestly, Sirius couldn't imagine anything worse than Harry in the same room as his cousin. "-but she was always very… involved with Voldemort and his lot. His most loyal, she used to call herself-" Loudly and maniacally at all hours of the day and night, when they'd shared a row in Azkaban. "-so that should give you some idea of the sort of person she is."
"You tried to talk him out of it though, right? Why didn't he listen?"
How many times had Sirius asked himself the same thing?
"He didn't think that many people could be wrong," Sirius said. "I was his brother, but it was my word against our parents and cousins and all of his friends, and Reg was always one to go with popular opinion." Until the cave, anyway. "He must have listened a bit, though," Sirius said, more to himself now than Harry, "must have had some doubts... otherwise, he'd have cut off all contact with me, and he never did, and he'd never have done what he did with the locket. I- I wish he was still around, obviously, but he was on the right side in the end-"
"That's too late," Harry said, irritably.
"Better late than never," Sirius snapped, feeling oddly defensive of his little brother.
"That's not what I meant." Harry flapped a hand and Sirius lowered his hackles. "I like Reg, I just-" He slumped in his chair, looking miserable. "Never mind."
"Why are you suddenly curious about Reg?" Sirius asked, gentler this time; Harry knew Reg's story as well as Sirius himself did, so Sirius couldn't imagine why he was suddenly wanting to hear it again. Harry sighed, the bed-tousled ridiculousness of his hair doing absolutely nothing to detract from his troubled expression.
"They want him to be a Death Eater," Harry said, pulling his knees up to his chest.
"Reg?" Sirius asked, frowning.
"Draco."
"Oh," Sirius said. "Is he all right?"
"You're not surprised," Harry said, narrowing his eyes
"I wasn't that much older when my parents suggested I join up," Sirius said, shrugging. "And Lucius is far more loyal to the cause than my parents ever were. He was always going to try."
"You ran away when they suggested it to you, though," Harry said quietly.
"Draco's not as impulsive as I am," Sirius said, smiling, but Harry didn't return it. Sirius watched him for a moment. "Are you- worried?"
"No," Harry said, rather unconvincingly, then slumped again. "Maybe."
"About what Lucius might do?"
There was silence for a few moments, and Sirius was about to take it as agreement and suggest they have Snape check on him if Harry was really worried, but then Harry shifted in his chair.
"About what Draco might," Harry admitted. "He-" Harry hesitated. "He was teasing me a bit when we were talking about it, which was normal, but there was something… I dunno, off… about him. Usually he'd be mad that they asked him or something, but he was just… uncomfortable. And Hermione said he was weird when she was with him too, and Mr and Mrs Malfoy were sort of nice to Draco, but every time I've seen them - or Mr Malfoy, anyway - he's been a bit of a git to him."
"So what are you worried about him doing? Joining up?"
"I think he's leading his family on," Harry said, pushing his glasses up. "I offered him Grimmauld if he needs a place, and he said he hoped it wouldn't come to that. I think… I think he doesn't want to upset his family, so he's pretending to think about it, and that's why they're being so nice to him. Only he didn't say to me that that's what he was doing when we were talking about it, so I think he's worried I might not understand, and I think that's why Snape's mad with him."
"Snape?"
"Snape's barely talked to Draco all summer," Harry said. "Draco said they're having a difference in opinion."
"He what?" Sirius asked, stunned.
"He-"
"Yeah, yeah, I heard, I just… Merlin." Sirius was suddenly feeling far more concerned about things; Snape had made it very clear in the past that he would side with Draco over Narcissa and Lucius. Snape was playing a careful game with both sides, though Sirius had seen his patronus and knew well enough which side he was actually on. He'd probably encourage Draco to lead his parents on, if only so that he could pretend to Lucius and Narcissa that he was trying to get Draco onto the 'right' side, but if he was having a difference of opinion… "I hate to ask," Sirius began, and really did hate himself for asking, "but have you considered-?"
"-that it might not be them he's leading on?" Harry finished for him. Sirius gave him a grim look, and Harry's mouth turned down at the corners. "Yeah." Harry was quiet for a few moments.
Sirius was struck by just how different he was to James in this. James had never questioned the loyalty of his friends, and would have been furious with anyone that suggested he ought to. He could tell from the look on Harry's face and from his scent that he neither liked the possibility or thought it was likely, but he was considering it, and that was far more than James would have done.
"It's… it's why I wanted to know about Regulus," Harry said, without looking at him. "I- I really don't think- Draco wouldn't, but- they're his family, and if he did- if- I think- I think he'd be like Regulus, and I- that's good, that he'd change his mind, but I wouldn't want him to- to, you know, end up like- I-" Harry'd looked up midway through, as if to better convince Sirius that that would be the case, but he looked down again now. "He's still my friend. Even if he chose- he's still one of us."
And that there, was another difference between Harry and James. Had James known what Wormtail would become, he'd have thrown him out on his backside, and severed all ties. He'd have hated himself for it, but he'd have done it. Lily too - while she'd been more prone to second chances, Sirius only had to think back to her friendship with Snape to know that was the case. Harry, though… despite the high and deeply personal stakes he had in all things Voldemort, Sirius believed that he would still consider Draco a friend if he chose the wrong side.
Across the table, Harry's jaw set, and Sirius realised he'd taken Sirius' silence for doubt or disagreement.
"Peace, Harry," he said, with a gentle smile. "The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. I was in touch with Reg all through the war, remember?"
"I don't think he'd really join them," Harry said, almost guiltily. "I'm much more worried that he's going to upset his parents when the truth comes out and that it'll get nasty, but… after what Wormtail did, I- I can't not think about it, you know?"
"All too well," Sirius assured him.
"He was one of you."
"Was," Sirius said curtly. Harry nodded rather absently, and stood. "Done talking?"
"Mmm. I'm going to the Burrow," he said. Sirius blinked and raised his eyebrows. "Er… can I go to the Burrow?"
"It's late," Sirius said, glancing at the inky sky outside the library's window. Harry looked confused, as if he didn't see how the time had anything to do with wanting to visit his friends. Teenagers. "Maybe you can wait until tomorrow?" Harry's expression didn't change. Sirius rolled his eyes fondly and Harry grinned, though it was distracted; he'd likely smelled Sirius' permission, because he was already heading to the door. "Check with Molly and Arthur before you just appear in their kitchen." Not that he really thought Molly or Arthur would mind; Harry was just about a Weasley himself, in all but name and hair.
"All right," Harry said, and wore a funny smile, like he was thinking the same thing.
"And don't keep Ron up too late - he's still recovering from last night."
"I won't!" Harry called back.
Sirius unfolded his letter to Scrimgeour once Harry was gone, and picked up his quill with new purpose.
The only marriage Alastor had ever been a part of was one to his job as an Auror. He'd never particularly wanted children but he'd a few anyway - trainees from the Auror program that he'd taken under his wing. Most couldn't handle him as a mentor - that took a special breed of trainee - and had moved on to other mentors part-way through their program, but there were three that had stuck it out. The first two were Black and Potter, years ago, now, and he'd had them in the Order of the Phoenix as well. Potter was dead, now, and things had never been quite the same with Black since he went to Azkaban - partly, because Black was well and truly an adult and no longer needed Alastor, and partly because Alastor couldn't help but feel hideously guilty for what had happened to him, even if Black didn't seem to hold a grudge. Alastor had pulled a few strings to arrange for him to be tested and given his job as an Auror back, and done what he could to protect the Potter boy, but nothing would ever be enough.
Nymphadora, though, he'd done right by. If he were the sort of man who had favourites, she'd be his, and not just because was a better Auror than either Black or Potter had ever been.
He'd watched her grow from a nervous, Hogwarts graduate into a confident young trainee, had watched her fall in love, had watched her follow her ambition to France, had attended her wedding and even danced with her there, had faced down Fiendfyre with her at his side.
And, he watched her now - far more nervously than he usually did - as she advanced toward him in a hospital nightgown.
"Expected pink hair," he said gruffly. Nymphadora grinned and set her newborn daughter into his stiff arms; he didn't have the first clue what to do with it, and was worried he'd break it if he moved. The last kid he'd held would have been either Potter or Longbottom, and they were both teenagers now.
Baby Lupin wriggled a little in her blanket and he tightened his grip, lest she somehow tumble out. She opened brown eyes - Lupin's eyes - for a moment, opened her tiny mouth in a yawn, and then her eyes fluttered shut again.
"Are you crying, Mad Eye?" Nymphadora asked, sounding disbelieving.
He wasn't. His fake eye obviously had a bit of grit or something on it, and it was irritating the socket, that was all.
"Brought you something," he said, and moved ever so slightly to gesture for her to take the baby back. When she had, he pulled out a bit of parchment. Nymphadora tilted her head, reading.
"Spells?"
"Top one's an eavesdropping charm," he said. "Doesn't work at long distances, and doesn't work on people, only objects, but I thought you might be able to cast it on her cot and on your bedside table, so you'll know if she cries overnight." Nymphadora stared at him. "That one-" he tapped the parchment with a scarred finger. "-won't be useful for a few more months, but it's an alarmed perimeter spell; if she crawls outside it, it'll go off." He cleared his throat and gestured to the rest of the list. "You get the idea."
"It's perfect," Nymphadora said, bright eyed. "Thanks, Mad Eye."
He stayed long enough to see Lupin return to the room with a packed bag, several changes of clothes, and food for the both of them, and then he bid the young couple goodbye and made his way out.
He Apparated from the alley beside the concealed hospital to another alley, this time near the Leaky Cauldron, then to Hogsmeade, and then to a muggle bakery in Dorset. When he was satisfied no one was tailing him, he Apparated to a sheltered park at the end of his street, and began the walk home.
It was all satisfyingly uneventful, at least until he arrived at his front gate. His letterbox was on a slight lean, and there was a dent in the side of it.
Closer to the house, the dustbins were scorched and quivering, and there was rubbish strewn along the lawn. None of his wards had been touched or breached, but he was not alone; someone moved on his doorstep, made bright to his eye by their magic. His wand was on them at once.
"Evening, Mad Eye."
