Chapter 5: Since when does life go to plan?

I don't own 'Harry Potter'

§What are you doing?§

Harry didn't even open his eyes, instead he blindly reached out in the direction of Ophiuchus' head and started absentmindedly petting the smooth scales, feeling more than seeing the snake curl up next to him on the sofa with his head on Harry's rounded stomach.

§I'm trying to remember something.§

He felt a tongue dart out across the back of his hand, Ophiuchus obviously interested as proven by his question. §What something? Is it important? About your future hatchlings?§

The time traveller felt his lips twitch and fought the urge to snort and or break down in hysterics. No matter how often his serpent friend said it, he couldn't get over the utter hilarity of his unborn child being referred to as a 'hatchling'. It didn't even make sense as to why he found it so bloody funny, it was a perfectly natural thing for a snake to refer to any offspring as such, but for some reason equating his baby with a serpent was just too hilarious. (And no, it wasn't because he had a terrible sense of humour, Regulus could shut the fuck up, Harry wasn't the one who thought it was funny to send Crup treats to Sirius for Christmas. Idiot.)

§No, not about them. I'm trying to remember a certain conversation from a while ago.§

And by 'a while ago', he meant a few years ago, which really wasn't helping in his journey to sift through the endless and horrendous meetings with Albus Dumbledore just to remember one little thing. Ordinarily he'd quite happily shove any and all meetings with the manipulative coot into a deep and dark mental box that he wouldn't touch with a fifty-foot pole, but when he realised that he'd actually need access to those parts of his memories he had a slight temper tantrum and may or may not be the one responsible for throwing Walburga Black's prized Italian Renaissance vase against the wall of Grimmauld Place and shattering it beyond repair. (Though it was entertaining witnessing Orion and Regulus' combined joy at finding the evidence of his lapse in composure. They'd probably commend him if he admitted to it, but Harry was hilariously content to let them see it as an omen of good fortune at the bitch's demise, so there.)

Occlumency had never been his forte, even if the repeated and brutal mind-rapes from the overgrown dungeon bat hadn't been anywhere close to the delicate and subtle mind arts that served to protect a wizard's mind rather than destroy their inner defences. (Andromeda had been rather informative – and terrifying – in explaining the truth of Occlumency to Harry and subsequently raging about how Snape had only worn away his mental shields and essentially tortured him. Which, yeah, he already kind of guessed that, but dear lord was that woman's temper something to fear, and he'd never been more grateful that he wasn't the target of someone's ire than when he saw Andromeda Tonks incinerate Walburga Black's portrait and the wall behind it with some rather vicious Fiendfyre.

He wondered if the propensity for that particular fire spell was genetic for the Blacks. Regulus seemed to like it, crazy bastard that he was.)

Anyway, he really needed to remember one particular conversation with the old goat, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. I know when it was, but I can't remember the exact date … A mental flutter echoed through his mind and he wondered whether groaning or not was an appropriate response to that particular individual. Or laughing at what was no doubt going to be a hilarious expression when the git walked in.

"Well, if it isn't my beloved nephew-in-law! How are you … doing?"

Harry opened his eyes once more and grinned at the put-out and wary expression in the man's grey eyes as he stared at Ophiuchus with more than a hint of trepidation. He was stood in the doorway, lingering what he probably thought was a safe distance away – which it wasn't, Harry's pet was bloody fast when he wanted to be – with his fingers twitching in a way that meant he was resisting the urge to draw his wand. Harry inwardly snorted at his paranoia.

He'd known fucking with Alphard Black was going to be fun.

And it definitely was, because his husband's uncle most definitely suffered from at least slight Ophidiophobia right now, and while some might think it mean to forcefully instil a phobia of snakes into a member of his married family, Harry preferred to think of it was karma for the bastard who delighted in making crude – and public – jokes of Harry and Regulus' sex life, as well as spontaneously appearing at random moments whenever he felt like it for no other apparent reason than to make a general nuisance of himself.

Also, Ophiuchus enjoyed tormenting Alphard. Win-win as far as Harry was concerned.

"I'm very well, Alphard. How are you? Would you care to join me?"

He knew he was laying it on thick, but this was way too funny to let go.

"Yeah, sure." The man carefully made his way around the side table and onto the sofa, all the while intently studying Ophiuchus as if waiting for him to make his move. Which of course he wouldn't, the snake only terrified Alphard when Harry told him to, but the poor man was unaware of Harry's status as a Parselmouth, so oh well.

Alphard cleared his throat, forcibly tearing his eyes away from the unblinking beady black eyes to stare at Harry's reclining figure. "So, how goes the pregnancy? Have you and Reg decided on names yet?"

Harry snorted and stretched his arms over his shoulders, not caring at all that he had a guest and should care about appearances. This man was far from appropriate on the best of days, and considering what sort of things Alphard regularly sent him to 'congratulate' him on either his relationship or pregnancy, he wasn't a man focused on propriety at all.

"The pregnancy's great, if being constantly kicked in every direction is what people deem fun, not to mention the brat constantly bouncing up and down on my bladder, but sure, pregnancy is delightful."

So maybe he was being sarcastic, but why people saw it as a time of joy and wonder was a mystery to Harry. It was not a joy.

Harry casually stroked Ophiuchus' head and hummed. "As for names, we've decided to wait and see after the birth. Besides the fact we don't know the sex, there's also the chance any name we choose might not feel right after we see the baby. I mean, it's not like there's a shortage of star names to choose from," he said dryly.

Alphard laughed loudly, grinning at Harry as he did. "Can't disagree with you there. The family's been re-using the same names for years so there are tons that haven't ever been used."

The green-eyed man felt his lips twitch and rolled his eyes. For a family of smart and powerful people, they are kind of lacking in creativity when it comes to names. 'Oh look, how about we use 'Sirius'? It's not as if it's been used at least four times in the last century alone or anything? Or why don't I name my son 'Arcturus' even though I already have a living brother and a great-uncle with the same name?'

Yeah, how about no. He didn't care how much he had to bribe Regulus with sex, their kid was going to have their own name, no matter what.

"I'm sure we'll figure something out after the birth," Harry mused. "Anyway, what have you been up to recently? Dorea keeps getting this creepy grin on her face when you come up in conversation and she keeps making sly remarks about your love life."

Alphard shifted and winced slightly, and though it was fucking hilarious seeing the man so out of sorts, it was admittedly quite nice having someone else who could fully understand the mental pain that came with being a favourite target of the one and only Dorea Potter nee Black.

That didn't mean he wouldn't throw Alphard under the bus to save his own skin though, Harry wasn't that nice.

"Ah, well … I'm a single man who enjoys the company of lovely women whenever I can. Though I'll admit that Miss Ianthe Greengrass is certainly more intriguing than most women I see," Alphard mused quietly, drifting off as he seemed to contemplate the only daughter of Lord Greengrass.

From what he remembered of the Greengrass family – and by remembered, he meant the information that Andromeda had practically forced into his head through repeated hexes ensuring he was motivated enough to make the information stick; why people thought women were weak, he had no clue – Ianthe Greengrass was the youngest child and only daughter of Lord Ajax Greengrass. Her older brothers were Castor, the father of Daphne and Astoria in Harry's original life, and Jason, one of the fathers of the infamous Pansy Parkinson. From what he knew of Ianthe, the woman had never married or had children, and his classmate's aunt had been one of the hundreds of casualties in the Second War for the simple reason of not supporting Voldy outright. She seemed like a decent and smart woman, a far cry from the flirtatious and upbeat man sat across from Harry now.

She was also over twenty years younger than Alphard.

"You dirty old man. You're a cradle robber," Harry deadpanned.

"I am not! I'm only just into my fifties, thank you very much," Alphard sniffed indignantly. "Not to mention that Miss Greengrass is thirty already. She's not a child and she's certainly more than capable of making such choices by herself."

Harry raised a brow. "And it doesn't bother you that she's only one year older than Bellatrix? You know, your niece?"

"That crazy bitch isn't a part of our family anymore, remember?"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, the poor woman you're targeting –"

"I'm not targeting anyone!"

"– is only three years older than Andromeda, the oldest of your nieces who are in fact part of the House of Black."

Alphard sat back in his chair, grumbling under his breath about them both being adults or some such crap that Harry wasn't honestly listening to. He had way more important things to concern himself with, like those amazing biscuits on the table next to him courtesy of an enthusiastic Kreacher who seemed to love him for the simple fact of him making Regulus happy. It also didn't hurt that Harry himself liked Kreacher, long having become accustomed to his particular brand of house-elf eccentricity. He wondered if he'd ever find a normal elf, or if crazy was their normal?

He looked up from his treat to see the older man still muttering to himself and Harry resisted the urge to throw a biscuit at his head. (Though it wasn't that hard to resist, he wasn't going to waste one of his snacks like that.) Harry honestly didn't give a shit if the man wanted to pursue a woman twenty-three years younger than him, as long as they were both consenting adults there was no issue as far as he was concerned.

But it was still too funny to keep winding the bastard up.

"I mean, Andromeda's already a mother and you're going after someone she went to school with. I suppose they weren't actually in the same year, so there shouldn't be a problem if you go for it.

"Good luck, Alphard!" Harry beamed brightly.

The older man shot him a glare and opened his mouth, but before he could say something that would more than likely be exceptionally scathing – it had to be a Black thing with some of the things that came out their mouths – Ophiuchus decided to slither over Harry's stomach and lift himself up, hovering in mid-air with his head pointed at the Black. Said man snapped his mouth shut and subtly leaned back in his chair, one hand gripping the armrest tightly as kept a close eye on the green reptile.

Harry took a slow breath in through his nose and tried to hold in the giggles he could feel threatening to burst out his mouth. It was hilarious being able to get one over of the idiot in front of him, and with Ophiuchus sat there scaring Alphard into submission there was no way he'd be able to do anything to Harry in retribution. Not that he would anyway, the man was genuinely a nice person and wouldn't even dare to think about attacking a pregnant person. Pure-blood supremacists or not, the House of Black were totally united in their protection of children.

(It was nice they had at least one redeeming feature, he supposed.)

"I'm back."

Harry and Alphard turned as one to see Regulus walk through the door and pause briefly, silver eyes briefly surveying the room before making straight for his husband. Harry smiled up at Regulus and happily leaned up into the chaste kiss the other man graced him with. Some quiet snickering and verbal barbs about their marriage echoed in the background and Harry turned to glare at Alphard, eyes widening in surprised delight as he witnessed Regulus silence his uncle and turn his hair pink in rapid succession.

"Uncle Alphard, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were suffering from some sort of head injury rendering you utterly incapable of sticking to appropriate topics of discussion. Perhaps some consequences will help you consider your actions in the future. I'm sure the family will appreciate your improved behaviour."

The younger Black finished his scathing words with a bland smile that did nothing to disguise the wicked amusement in his eyes, and Harry turned to bury his face in the sofa cushions as he let loose with hysterics. This family is nuts.

Alphard suddenly flared his magic and Harry stiffened at the feeling, not appreciating the foreign magic wash over him so intimately. He could feel Regulus move closer as if to shield Harry with his body. "Alphard," Regulus growled, "I would appreciate it if you didn't do that in my home next to my pregnant husband."

He couldn't see the older man but Harry could imagine what sort of placating gesture he was making considering his words. "Calm down, Regulus. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, I was just dispelling your spells. I didn't mean any harm by it. I mean, it's not like I'm trying to get killed this early in the year."

Harry was fighting a grin at the wary tone before he froze, mind playing over a conversation from years before.

"It was early in the year nineteen-eighty. The date was …"

"That's it!" Harry exclaimed as he shot up, knocking into Regulus as well as dislodging Ophiuchus who hissed in annoyance.

He looked up into Regulus' eyes with a grin. "I remembered it! I remembered the date!"

A dawning look of comprehension entered his husband's eyes, but before either of them could begin to discuss the newest revelation, an unholy shriek emanated from the oldest man in the room, scaring the crap out of Harry and Regulus and making the couple turn to the sound with wands drawn. Instead of a fight or some sort of dangerous problem, the sight was one that made Harry drop his wand and slap a hand across his mouth, snorting and hiccoughing with laughter as Regulus' lips twitched, wand lowering as he seemed content to let this little drama to play out by itself. But you may ask, what was this drama? What could make a grown man in his fifties scream like a little girl in a pitch not often found in a man's vocal range?

Ophiuchus was wrapped around Alphard's neck in the snake's approximation of a hug.

As the mad man flailed around and kept shrieking for help, Harry quite happily ignored him and turned to his husband with a grin that seemed to make Regulus more than a little wary if he was judging that expression correctly. "Are you up for another adventure, Husband?"

Regulus sighed in a resigned manner. "Harry, what are you planning?"

Harry smirked. This was going to be fun.

Now, Regulus was a smart man and knew full well that pregnant witches and wizards were far from the helpless and weak people some made them out to be. He knew that pregnant magicals could easily use magical transport like Portkeys and the Floo – Apparition was a little iffy because of possible splinching – and that they could easily use magic freely, doing whatever magic they wanted as long as they didn't drain themselves and exhaust their bodies. Magical people were designed so they could protect themselves during their pregnancy, so really and truly there was no excuse for acting as if they constantly needed protection.

Regulus knew this, but he was also very much in favour of the tradition of keeping a pregnant witch or wizard at home and safely behind wards until the birth and often past that, ensuring an extra level of security for the more vulnerable members of the family at the time. It was disgusting to think about, but the fact remained that there were some truly vile people in their world that would have no issue with killing a pregnant person who was carrying the future Heir of the family, or even the child or baby itself. (Dementors were disgusting creatures, but were perfectly appropriate for those types of scum.)

Regulus Black was a man who was very content to do things the safe way. He was also a man married to Harry Potter.

"Harry. In absolutely no way do I doubt you or your magical prowess, even your intelligence, but this is a terrible idea. You've only got a month left until you give birth, not to mention there are still plenty of Death Eaters and supporters lingering around. It really isn't the safest time for us to be out and doing … this.

"I mean, stalking and kidnapping is bad enough on a good day, but with you eight-months pregnant it's just ridiculous," Regulus muttered irritably.

He didn't even know why he was trying to coerce his husband back to a logical course of action, he knew full well that Harry would go ahead with his plan regardless of Regulus' input, meaning it was just simpler to go along with him so he could help if things went south. Not that he was happy about his husband's stubbornness in this fashion, but the thought of simply knocking Harry out and forcibly dragging him home made his stomach turn. Harry was a grown man and he wasn't going to disrespect him by treating him like an errant child or a prisoner.

Besides, he could admit that he'd probably act the same if their positions were reversed.

Harry side-eyed him weirdly and raised a brow. "Regulus. You're well-known in the magical community, you were a fantastic student at Hogwarts, and you're going to be the next Heir Black and eventual Lord Black. You're such a smart and genius man, yet sometimes I sit and look at you and listen to the words that come out your mouth and I wonder.

"I wonder how can this smart man act like such a fucking moron."

Regulus felt his eye twitch even as Harry ignored him and carried on. "I mean, you know full well why I'm doing this and that it's a good idea, so really and truly it's baffling that you act like you have no common sense sometimes."

He turned to Regulus with a flat look. "I know damn well I didn't marry an idiot, I married a smart man, so how about you do me a favour and pull your head out your arse, start using your brain, and help me? You know, so we can go home quickly? I'm freezing my tits off out here."

There was silence in the wake of Harry's words and Regulus wondered not for the first time what would have happened if he hadn't met this pint-sized, sassy and foul-mouthed little shit and how much insanity could have been avoided in his life if he'd simply asked Kreacher to do his duty as a good little Black elf and dumped Harry's body elsewhere.

His mind flashed over the Inferi-filled cave and he winced internally. Then again, he probably would've been dead.

Regulus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before lifting his head to look at his husband. "Okay. Let's go through this one more time. This night is the one on which one Sybil Trelawney has the prophecy which essentially fucked up your life, not because of the prophecy itself but because it was overheard by Snape who then relayed it to Voldemort. Also, because Dumbledore bore witness to it, he became obsessed with it and started doing everything in his power to take down Voldemort, no matter the cost.

"However, this time Voldemort is dead so nothing can be conveyed to him, and Severus Snape is currently on the run from the DMLE after every single one of his shady 'friends' tried to screw him over to save themselves.

"The only issue is Dumbledore hearing the prophecy and going mad over it, so your plan is to follow Trelawney, temporarily kidnap her until the prophecy's over and done with, then put her back so she gets the job at the school and that's everything."

Harry nodded with a grin. "And maybe stall Dumbledore as he comes down from the castle."

"And how exactly do you plan on stalling Albus Dumbledore?" Regulus questioned, feeling more than a little exasperated. And in need of a pain-relieving potion of some kind for his pounding headache, but that was neither here nor there.

The other man shrugged casually. "Don't know. Destruction and carnage maybe?"

"… What."

Green eyes glinted in a way that promised unparalleled chaos and Regulus couldn't decide whether he pitied his husband's target or not. He thought about Harry's childhood for a second and his pity vanished. That bastard can suffer.

And by the look of Harry's demeanour, the old man would suffer immensely.

I just hope nothing goes wrong.

(Later, Regulus Black would kick himself for jinxing them. And plead for forgiveness from his vicious husband.)

Harry looked down at the woman trussed up and tied to a chair with rather mixed feelings in his mind.

On the one hand Trelawney wasn't the brightest bulb around and her tendency to predict the deaths of underage children just to make herself seem like a legitimate Seer annoyed the fuck out of him, not to mention her appalling teaching methods in general. He probably could have learnt more about Divination by self-studying from a book. (You know, if he'd actually had a work ethic during school.)

But then there was the fact that the woman really couldn't control when and where she got whatever visions or prophecies or whatnot she received as Seers were notorious for having unreliable and obscure powers that came into play through no actions of their own. (And it was very, very begrudgingly that Harry only accepted the woman as a genuine Seer, which she should be bloody grateful for considering her cooking sherry-induced visions had fucked him over sideways from start to finish. Not that he was bitter or anything, of course not! And no, he was not in denial concerning this woman and her actions in relation to his life, Regulus could go screw himself for trying to psychoanalyse Harry all the time, he was perfectly sane, thank you very much. I mean, have you seen his relatives? Harry was downright boring in comparison.)

He studied the woman, ignoring the infamous words which had just passed her lips and wondered how this would affect her career at Hogwarts. Despite his attitude towards her Harry wasn't a heartless bastard, and he had an annoying feeling he'd probably try and help the crazy woman try and get a job elsewhere if this godawful interview went to shit. He only needed to remember when Umbitch tried to evict her from the castle and her tearful proclamations of Hogwarts being her home to feel at least a little empathy. And hatred for the toad, because who didn't?

He blinked then shook his head. "Oh well, best get her back before the chess master himself gets curious and comes knocking."

Harry carefully vanished the ropes around her wrists and watched as the woman blinked into awareness, but before she could focus on his – heavily glamoured - features, Harry flicked his over-powered wand and silently Imperiused her.

He cleared his throat. "You will attend the job interview with Albus Dumbledore and do everything in your power to get the job as Divination professor in a legitimate manner. You will not focus on your powers as a Seer, but you will explain your broad knowledge of different areas of the subject, including things like Palmistry, reading tea leaves and crystal balls, as well as using dreams to analyse Divination's applications. You will act calm and professional and try and sell yourself as the best person for the job because of your talent and your knowledge of the subject. You will also forget everything about the prophecy you just spoke, as well as being brought here by me and everything about me. You were simply running late because of the weather."

The man lowered his wand and turned around once the scatter-brained woman pottered out the room, absentmindedly wondering how his beloved and inventive other half had managed to slow down the headmaster. He had a feeling the storm outside was offering ample opportunity to make it seem like natural disasters were plaguing the small village, and he could practically imagine Regulus casually and nonchalantly destroying trees and roads to slow down the aged man coming to interview the drunk Seer, as well as passive-aggressively offer a massive 'fuck you' to the man that screwed up Harry's life in more ways than one.

Regulus' anger was so sweet to witness.

Harry listened for another ten minutes and heard the unforgettable voice that made him want to punch a wall to this day, though once he heard the door across the hall close he left his small booked room and left before he could do something that would earn him his own cell in Azkaban.

Lying, conniving, manipulative old bastard! I'd love nothing more than to shove a fistful of lemon drops down his lying throat and sit back with a bag of popcorn and watch as the old bastard chokes to death!

The anger-fuelled ranting proved to be a massive detriment to Harry's situational awareness, and a loud cracking sound permeated the streets of Hogsmeade as the force of the wind managed to snap a tree in half. Harry jumped a mile at the sound and spun around, green eyes widening as he saw a branch come flying at his head at breakneck speed, too quickly to dodge.

Fuck.

The wood slammed into his head and sent him toppling backwards, his momentum only aided by the ferocious gale-force winds. His arms came up to wrap around his stomach for any protection possible, though they proved ineffectual against the low brick wall behind Harry that he fell into directly. Head-first.

The cracking sound made him feel sick almost instantly, as well as the sudden and worrying cramping sensation in his lower stomach. Jesus Christ, please not now … He didn't have even a second to contemplate this terrifying development though, as the black spots creeping into his blurry vision and rapidly taking over seemed to drain him of energy.

"HARRY!"

His last thought before he lost consciousness was a fervent prayer for Regulus to save their baby, no matter what.

Arcturus could be a cold man and had no compunctions admitting this fact.

He acted in ways that he thought would benefit the House of Black first and foremost, and he worked fervently to uphold their reputation and place on their society regardless of childish emotions getting in the way. Their House was his responsibility and he would always do his utmost to maintain their place in the magical world.

Family was another matter entirely.

No matter how much he tried to be cold and aloof, Arcturus genuinely cared for his family despite finding it difficult to showcase his emotions so openly. Melania was probably the biggest exception to this rule, though it was an exception that he genuinely embraced seeing as he could easily say that he loved his wife. His children and grandchildren were also people he would do his utmost to see happy, even if Sirius made him want to hex the brat more often than not with his tempestuous ways.

The point was, just because Arcturus didn't openly show his softer side and acted caring towards his family in an affectionate manner didn't mean that he didn't care for them and want them to be happy.

Which was why the sight of his younger grandson staring at the wall in blank agony made him feel physically sick.

He couldn't say he fully understood the situation though; both times Melania had given birth it had been entirely natural when her body decided it was time for her to bring her unborn children into the world. His wife had never suffered an accident that caused premature labour and knocked her out, necessitating an emergency operation to save both parent and child because something had gone wrong and natural labour couldn't occur.

Regulus looked beside himself, both terrified and in shock at his husband being in this current state, and it probably didn't help that the Healer barred him from the room while she operated with her team. His grandson looked to be a moment away from snapping and going crazy, a very real possibility with their particular Family magic. Arcturus couldn't help but pray to Magic that his first great-grandchild was going to be born safely, and that Hadrian made it through safe and happy.

Hadrian was someone he'd never considered his grandson marrying, especially so quickly, but seeing Regulus over the past year come out of his shell and grow into a confident and happy man – albeit with less restraint and a fouler mouth than Arcturus would have liked, no doubt thanks to Hadrian – was uplifting to see. Being able to witness his grandson live and change was a heartening experience, and Arcturus was beyond grateful to Hadrian for doing this for Regulus, so much so that he could say for certain that Regulus would not be the only Black crushed if things went wrong with the birth.

He flicked his eyes around the room; Melania sat next to Regulus silently with one of his hands clasped in hers, Alphard uncharacteristically silent and serious from his place leaning against the wall next to the fireplace, Dorea and Charlus side by side on the sofa in the corner, and Orion absentmindedly flicking through a book, eyes seeing but not really registering any of the words on the pages.

Not everyone was here of course, but he had a feeling inviting the entire family for something of this nature was simply asking for trouble. Everyone had their ways of coping with stress, and some of their more volatile relatives would only serve to act as a spark to the powder keg in this room. Like Cassiopeia. His cousin had a tendency to unleash her sharp tongue and shower people with caustic barbs when uneasy, and he could only see that ending in blood or death. Or both. Dorea would easily try and kill her sister for an inevitable slight against her stepson, Charlus would join his wife, Orion would attempt to mediate and piss off Cassiopeia, Melania would go ballistic at someone insulting her only son, and Alphard would stand in the corner and mock them all. And Regulus might actually kill someone trying to shut them all up. And they'd all be Arcturus' responsibility.

He could feel the migraine developing at the thought.

Thank Merlin that woman's not here. The situation was bad enough without tempers running high and people turning on each other just to avoid dealing with the possible tragedy in the other room. Which, to be honest, even he didn't want to delve into, even in the privacy of his own mind. The idea of anything happening to Hadrian …

The feeling of wards dropping jolted Arcturus and he turned to the door in time to watch it swing open, the Healer stepping into the tense room with ease despite the occupants staring at her intensely, eyes piercing into her as if could all use wandless Legilimency and pluck the information they wanted from her very mind.

The Healer – he couldn't remember her name – paused before smiling widely at them all, her tired face lighting up and dispelling the worry around them even without the words.

"Everyone is perfectly healthy." She turned to Regulus and smiled softly. "Your husband is fine, Mister Black. A few weeks of potions and bed rest and he'll be as good as new. And congratulations, you're now a father. It might have been a month early, but there were no detrimental side effects to the early labour. From what I can tell, your husband actually went into labour naturally, not because of the accident. The knock to the head only exacerbated the potential for complications, it didn't cause any to occur, so the birth was entirely as planned by your husband's body."

Regulus let out a shaky breath then cleared his throat. "So, they're okay? Harry and the baby?"

The woman nodded tiredly. "Mister Black is going to be fine with some care, and as to your baby, they too are in perfect health."

At Regulus' sigh of relief, the woman grinned mischievously. "Though I do believe you might be a little shocked, Mister Black."

His grandson blinked and narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well …"

As the woman spoke, Arcturus could see everyone in the room widen their eyes in shock and he tried not to snort.

Only those two.

Harry blinked back to awareness and groaned, the ache in his muscles practically screaming at him as he mentally felt over his body. It hurt to breathe.

"Merlin, no wonder McGonagall didn't want us facing a troll. I bet this is what it feels like facing one and losing."

"And pray tell, exactly when did you manage to face a troll in the school?"

He turned, wincing at the pain, to come face-to-face with a rather unimpressed Regulus, his face paler than usual and dark circles under his eyes. He looked … a mess, to put it plainly. He certainly didn't look like the proud and put-together Black that Harry enjoyed messing with, this was a man whose rumpled clothes and exhausted demeanour set off all manner of alarm bells in his head. What the hell had happened to his husband?

Regulus raised an unimpressed brow. "A troll?"

Harry blinked. "Huh? Oh, that. Well, long story short, when I was eleven and Voldy was after the stone – I told you about that, right? – he tried to distract everyone by letting in a troll. One of the girls in my year was hiding in the toilets upset and didn't know about it so I went to find her with a classmate. The three of us ended up facing the thing and it only got knocked out because of a lucky Levitation Charm."

"Why didn't you mention this before?" Regulus questioned quietly.

"Honestly? After everything in my life, fighting in a war even, having a small fight like that doesn't really rate up there."

As Regulus clenched his eyes shut, lips moving as if muttering to himself, Harry shifted once more and hissed at the aching feeling of his body, especially in his stomach. Now he thought about it, he could have sworn there was something he was forgetting. He couldn't remember a single thing that had led to him ending up unconscious – though he was disturbingly used to such a situation from his many, many stays in the hospital wing at school – but he knew it was important somehow. Harry carefully lifted his head and looked down his body, focusing on his stomach.

His flat stomach.

Heedless of his muscles screaming in protest, Harry froze all over, tense and panicking as his thoughts all decided to come rushing back at once. That stupid trip just so Dumbledore wouldn't hear the prophecy, being knocked out, the feeling of contractions before he passed out …

Before he could start having a breakdown, a very familiar pair of lips crushed to his, rough and less composed than Regulus usually liked. Harry couldn't think as he was grabbed by the arms and pulled to a muscled body that he probably would have appreciated if he weren't terrified because what the fuck happened to my baby?

Regulus pulled back breathing hard and glared at him. "You'll be fucking lucky if I let you out of my sight any time soon."

With those words – sounding a strange amalgamation of furious and relieved – Regulus pulled back and gently helped Harry sit up, all the while muttering darkly about headstrong Gryffindors and crazy husbands and something about being a walking magnet for disasters.

(When Harry eventually calmed down, he would be rather offended by these words.)

His husband stood up and moved to the side, pulling a smaller cot towards the bed and Harry felt short of breath, eyes wide and vaguely terrified at what obviously held his child. Clearly nothing had gone wrong – Regulus was many things, but cruel for the sake of being cruel was not one of them – but this was so far from what Harry had expected it was surreal. He was supposed to have gone into labour naturally, not been knocked out and wake up to find himself no longer pregnant. Labour was going to be the process where he finally came fully to terms with having a child. This was more, 'here's a baby, have fun!'

Oh Merlin, I'm a dad now.

He took a deep breath and peered over into the small cot, very much appreciating the arms wrapped around his shoulders and steadying him. The blankets were thick and white, the wooden walls padded for safety, and Harry could see soft flowers engraved around the wooden structure itself. The entire thing was beautiful and practical, encasing the tiny baby with downy black hair like Regulus' and skin that was still red from birth. They were dressed in a pale-yellow outfit and were currently snoozing peacefully with their head turned to the left.

As was the second and very much identical child on their right.

"What," he said flatly.

Regulus bent down and buried his face in Harry's neck, who was still staring bewildered into the cot where there were two children, not the singular child Harry had spent months preparing himself for. What the actual fuck?

"I do believe, dearest Husband," Regulus said into his neck – and Harry could feel the grin; bastard – as he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist from behind, "that we may need a different Healer for the next pregnancy. I find their competence at discerning vital facts about a pregnancy rather worrying."

Harry stared at the babies with a deadpan expression. "Twins. Two children." He turned around ignoring his protesting muscles and looked Regulus in the eye. "How the fuck do you miss an entire bloody baby just sat there in my stomach?! Didn't the moron say something about magical signatures or some such crap?"

"Not even half a day old, and they're already being exposed to your vulgar language," Regulus muttered under his breath.

"Oh, fuck off."

Regulus glared at him for a second before sighing. "In the Healer's defence, twins are actually quite rare for magical couples, and identical twins usually have the same exact magic so they're harder to detect."

Harry raised a brow. "Are you defending him?"

"I am entirely on your side, my beautiful husband."

He tried to glare but he could feel his lips twitch and gave in to the grin, feeling lighter than ever that he was a father. He had a husband, and a family, and now he had his own children with someone he loved. Granted there was one more than what he was expecting at this particular time – qualified Healer, my arse – but he was … happy. Content. He didn't have to worry about being with someone who would treat their children horribly, he could simply live and be free. Him, his husband, and their …

Harry blinked before turning to Regulus with a sheepish expression. "Er, are they boys or girls?"

Regulus looked down at him with an expression that clearly conveyed 'are you fucking kidding me?' before rolling his eyes. "I can't believe it took you that long to ask. I'll do you the courtesy of believing it's because of your recent bout of unconsciousness, though."

… Kids, your father's a sarcastic prick.

His husband smirked in his face before the expression softened into a genuine smile, the man bending down to press a kiss to his head before resting his chin on Harry's hair as he looked at the sleeping infants.

"We have two daughters."

Harry reached out with trembling hands and brushed the tips of his fingers over their cheeks – his babies, his daughters – feeling his breath hitch. His eyes were rather wet too, though he honestly couldn't give a crap seeing as he was only with Regulus right now. Crying didn't make him weak, it made him human. Just because he was a man didn't mean he wasn't allowed to express emotion, and there was no way he was going to feel embarrassed about being overwhelmed that he was a parent.

He had the family he'd always wanted.

"So," Regulus began slowly, murmuring into his ear, sounding in awe of their two new-borns, "have you thought of names? I know stars and constellations are a family tradition, but as it stands girls in our family aren't always given such names. Narcissa, Dorea, Elladora … They're just a few examples."

Harry cleared his throat, eyes never leaving the tiny forms in front of him. "I was actually pretty fond of two star names for girls. Lyra and Carina. I couldn't decide between them, though. What about you?"

Regulus hummed. "I think Carina Black and Lyra Black are perfect. At least we won't struggle with the middle names now."

Harry snorted, remembering that particular conversation and the resulting mutual worry over a potential middle name for a daughter. I suppose it's a good thing we managed to get it down to two choices.

Regulus smiled down at his daughters. "So, I do believe we should introduce the two newest daughters of the House of Black to the rest of the family."

"Carina Melania Black and Lyra Dorea Black."

Harry enjoyed the blessed silence for a second before thinking about their extended family.

"You poor girls are going to be so screwed up by the time you're adults."

"Harry!"

A/N: Hey guys!

And the baby is revealed! And so is the other one lol. I love the idea of Harry going to so much trouble to prepare for just one baby then having twins. (Not in the story, but he totally fires his Healer. He's not impressed XD) Before anyone says anything about me using the name 'Lyra' again in another fic, I just really like the name. Also, there are only so many star names that can be used for girls. And I'm the author and I say so lol

I hope you guys liked it, and I'll see you for the next chapter. (When I get the time to actually plan and write the damn thing.)

See ya!