Chapter 6: Can we ever do things normally?

I don't own 'Harry Potter'

Harry gazed down at the baby girl in his arms, taking in the dark messy hair and pale skin, the face so like his own and tried not to say anything too unbecoming in the face of an innocent child who didn't deserve to be exposed to his usual language at this particular moment.

Though he really, really wanted to cry right about now.

Anyone around him might wonder at that, wonder what might possibly be the problem with him holding the perfectly healthy and happy little girl, wonder why he wanted to go and hibernate for an unspecified length of time in a faraway location despite the deliriously happy occasion. The fact of the matter is, the situation was completely ridiculous, and his husband was an unrepentant bastard who kept laughing in his face whenever everybody else's back was turned. Why, you may ask? It's simple, really.

The girl he was holding was not his own child, was not one of his darling little twins who were the most perfect people on this entire planet, and was in fact the brand-new daughter that Lily Potter had just given birth to, a cute little daughter that looked eerily identical to the photographs Harry still had of his own time as a baby. A girl instead of the boy Harry had assumed would be born, seeing as, you know, he'd thought it would be his younger self that his once-mother would be popping out.

Basically, the newest Potter was a female version of him, and Regulus thought it was hilarious and kept taking the piss out of him whenever she was mentioned.

Wanker.

He lifted his head and smiled gently at Lily – all the while ignoring that infuriating smirk on his husband's face he so wanted to punch – as he shifted the girl. "She's beautiful, Lily. Congratulations."

The woman who'd been his mother in another time and was now a close friend – which funnily enough isn't the weirdest crap to come from my trip through time – shifted focus away from her daughter to meet Harry's eyes, looking in awe and delighted despite her exhausted visage. Apparently childbirth when it happened naturally was no walk in the park, and naturally Harry was glad he'd avoided that particular agony. (For now, anyway. He had a feeling Regulus would make sure he got pregnant again at some point, even if only for him to experience the nightmare that was giving birth. Because he was a tosser, end of discussion.)

"Thank you. I just hope she doesn't end up with James' brain as she gets older," the woman replied dryly, leaning back into her pillows wearily and wincing slightly.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that. Though considering she's obviously a Potter, you might have no luck avoiding that particular insanity."

"You do realise you're a Potter too, don't you?" Regulus asked pointedly. "Are you finally admitting what we've all known all along?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. I think you'll find my legal name is Hadrian Black, thank you very much. If there's anything wrong with me now, it's on your batshit-crazy relatives," Harry retorted with a smirk.

Lily giggled before groaning in pain, hissing as she curled into herself with a grimace. "Bollocks, that hurts. Note to self: don't laugh like an idiot hours after giving birth."

Harry grinned cheekily. "At least you know for next time."

Lily shot him a venomous glare that would have been ten times worse if she was actually feeling up to trying to incinerate him through the power of eyesight – a fact Harry was quite grateful for, truth be told; he wasn't a masochist, for Christ's sake – and bit out, "If that bastard thinks he's ever coming within ten feet of me with that dick of his again, he's got another thing coming. Miracle of life, my fucking arse."

The time traveller was holding himself still and biting into his tongue to stop himself from breaking down in hysterics. Not only would that upset the new-born dozing in his arms – speaking of which, is it narcissistic to say she looks cute? Even if she looks like me? Jesus Christ, there's no simple way to deal with this – but it would probably draw the fiery rage of the redhead laying in front of him like he had a flashing target on his head. No thanks, I'm good.

Lily was ferociously pissed off right now at having had to be in labour for a good fifteen hours – another thing Harry had thankfully avoided; all hail the power of magical operations! – she was resolutely planning to live the rest of her marriage in complete celibacy – something tells me that's not going to happen – and she was already panicking about her daughter turning into the miniature female version of James Potter (which admittedly was a worrisome idea to consider, though perhaps a tad premature). All the while muttering under her breath about what sort of graphic and violent revenge she was going to enact on her husband, in between lamenting her situation by cursing like a sailor.

This woman was the furthest thing from the loving and wholesome woman people had described to his younger self, and Harry loved it.

Before Harry could reply – and maybe subtly wind her up so she'd keep swearing and making Regulus roll his eyes in the corner; go, Lily – there was an echoing cheer from downstairs before a smashing sound cut off the voices. The woman in bed stilled, narrowed eyes staring at the door as if she was about to go stomping out the room and give the other men in the house a piece of her mind. Seeing as she'd literally given birth hours ago – not even double digits hours ago – that was a bad idea. And Harry knew a thing or two about bad ideas. He carried them out all the time and ended up rolling with the spontaneous and bewildering punches that came with the territory.

(Hey, no matter what Regulus said, he was quite aware of his 'curiosity killed the cat' tendencies, thank you very much. He just happened to enjoy pretending the possible dire consequences didn't exist for the fun of it. Besides, his sarcastic husband should be grateful he was even like that, unless of course he liked the prospect of living in a lake as one of Voldy's living dead puppets. Not to mention their marriage? Their children? His bad ideas were brilliant.

And that was the story he'd stick to for evermore. (Also known as, 'fuck you, Regulus'.))

Regulus stood up and huffed to himself. "I think I'll go and see just what those imbeciles are doing down there. It can't be anything good judging from those sounds." He rolled his eyes at Harry's laugh-slash-cough and turned to Lily with a rather gentle expression considering his reputation. "Congratulations on the birth of your first child –" there was another crash from the floor below – "and I shall continue to pray that she inherits your common sense rather than that of her sire. If that comes to pass, she'll have no hope."

Lily clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the howling laughter trying to erupt, and Harry grinned widely at his husband's vicious derision as the taller man strode out the door, determinedly searching for the cause of whatever destruction was happening elsewhere in the Godric's Hollow cottage. (Harry had a feeling whatever was going on would turn Lily's face the colour of her hair if she found out. Or when she found out, as was probably the case for the bull-headed Gryffindor woman.)

"You know," he began, watching as Lily slowly calmed down and turned to him with an enquiring expression, "I'm not sure if you've realised this yet, but there's something you haven't told me about your daughter yet." And we're still not touching on baby Potter being a girl, no way, no how, nope, not going to happen. And she's not an example of how I should've been female or anything, Regulus can kiss my arse. He paused and considered that. Then again …

He shook off the wildly inappropriate (for the situation) thoughts and met green eyes as Lily furrowed her brows and puzzled through his words. "What do you mean? What haven't I told you?"

"Her name," he deadpanned.

Her eyes widened and an embarrassed flush painted itself across her pale skin, and Harry watched bemusedly as the mortification seemed to seep into every inch of the woman as she fidgeted in bed with eyes averted.

"Oh, fucking hell … How did I even manage to forget that?"

Harry thought about making her feel better and recounting the moment he was too besotted at the sight of his twins to ask about their gender, but then again he enjoyed being a twat, and Lily was someone who was usually doing the laughing, not being laughed at.

She could suffer for once.

"So, what is baby Potter called? Did you name her after a relative, or has she got her own name?" Truth be told, he'd always been a little curious as to what his parents would have named him if he'd been a girl; 'Harry' was downright boring in comparison to some of the names magicals bestowed on their children. Seriously, who looks at a baby and thinks, 'this kid's definitely a Quirinus'? No wonder the poor sod ran off to join the dark side the first chance he got. And now I think about it, what's with all the alliteration? Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Poppy Pomfrey ... I could bloody go on all day at this rate.

Lily cleared her throat and flicked her eyes back to her daughter in Harry's arms, expression softening to something he recognised intimately from being with his own children. She lifted her arms and gestured towards the tiny girl, gently pulling the baby towards her chest and stroking the fine black hair.

"It's Azalea. Azalea Lily Potter."

Harry smiled gently. "It's a lovely name." It was lovely, and a nice combination of unique and normal that wouldn't make anyone side-eye Lily and James weirdly upon hearing it. Kudos to them.

"Thanks. Though the name isn't really the issue, I'm more torn on the problem of godparents. How the bloody hell am I supposed to choose only one godmother and godfather from all our friends?" Lily moaned wearily.

He huffed lightly. "Why do you think Lyra and Carina don't have any yet?"

A small chuckle was all the response he got and he shot her a small grin, eyes unconsciously lowering to look at the baby again. Azalea. He wondered if she'd end up having green eyes and looking even more like his gender-swapped mini-me, and just how much he'd have to fuck with Regulus as revenge for what would undoubtedly be some rather bitchy piss-taking as was his husband's forte. He was a bastard, after all, but he was Harry's bastard, so he supposed it all worked out in the end.

Before he could say anything, a sharp knock sounded on the door and a harried Regulus poked his head in. Despite the visible frustration, Harry could also see the well-hidden amusement flashing in his eyes so he knew nothing was terribly wrong. Then again, 'not terribly wrong' left a lot of room for error.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a slight ... situation downstairs."

Harry raised a brow in question. "Dare I even ask?" What's going on now?

"Apparently my brother's penchant for behaving in the most inconvenient manner possible is something his child will also suffer from," the silver-eyed man said dryly. He looked back and forth between two sets of green eyes and smirked. "This will definitely be a day to remember in years to come.

"Sirius is in labour."

The room was silent for a few seconds before a flat "What?" emanated from the solitary woman and Harry lost it, falling face-first into the duvet and cackling, snorting like a genuine pig from the lack of oxygen. He could feel tears in his eyes and his stomach hurt from laughing, but he honestly couldn't help it.

Sirius. In labour. The same day as baby Potter popped into being.

How does this shit even happen?

Regulus stood next to the bed where his brother lay gazing down at his child in a disgustingly-affectionate manner – that in no way resembled how he looked at his daughters, shut the hell up, Harry – and tried not to snort at his brother giving birth the same day as the Potters. It was ridiculous, though he could admit the situation was rather intriguing.

He had a nephew.

A baby boy, with soft tawny hair and features that looked as if they'd grow into the Black looks in time. Admittedly, the infant was gorgeous to look at, though considering both his parents, Regulus wasn't holding out much hope for his personality as he grew up. He even had Potter and Evans as his godparents, he had no chance. (And yes, he was well aware that Evans was now Lady Potter (poor woman) and he should address her by her current name, but the idea of there being two adults he called 'Potter' left him off-kilter. He certainly wasn't going to start conversing with them using their given names, he wasn't Harry. Not to mention it was not done in formal conversation. But mostly because ignoring propriety was Harry's thing, not his. His thing was sitting back and watching insufferable, stuck-up cretins get offended at his husband's vernacular, it was glorious.)

The child was someone who, to be technical, should have been the Head of the House of Black at some point, but because his brother was a tempestuous pain in the arse, was now a Lupin, not a Black. By the feel of it, he hadn't even inherited the familiar dark magic their family was famous for. Knowing Sirius, he'd managed to subconsciously will his body into magically bearing a child that wasn't a Black, just to make sure they wouldn't be dragged back in to lead things years down the line.

On the one hand that sounded like utter bollocks, but on the other he was married to Harry. His definition of 'possible' had been expanded somewhat in the past year.

"So, have you decided on a name? I'd ask if you planned to continue the family tradition, but I think we both know the answer to that already."

Identical silver eyes glared at him, the exhaustion doing nothing to disguise how he despised that idea. "No, I'm bloody well not!"

"First my children, now my nephew. Are all my young relatives going to be exposed to such vile language as soon as they're born?" Regulus muttered mournfully. He was surrounded by idiots.

His brother scoffed and pulled his son closer. "If you're that bothered by it, why are you even talking to me?"

The younger man raised a brow derisively. "Have you met my husband? I can guarantee, Brother, nothing you can say to me will ever compare to the atrocities he spouts on a regular basis."

At Sirius' questioning look he continued. "There's a reason that Uncle Alphard loves him and Grandfather Arcturus continues to mourn the continuing presence of grey in his hair."

Sirius' lips twitched and he snorted, holding himself back so he didn't jostle the napping new-born. Ten galleons he wakes up soon and ends up as loud as the idiot he's lying on.

After a couple of minutes of watching his brother laugh and giggle lovingly at his son – and no, he wasn't giddy and happy himself at Sirius having a child and letting him share in the moment as if they were a true family again, and he certainly wasn't learning to forgive Sirius or any such crap Harry might suggest with a sly grin on his annoyingly-attractive face; his husband could be a right twat when he wanted – Regulus cleared his throat, ignoring what was (definitely not!) warming him inside.

"I wasn't joking though, has the boy actually got a name yet?"

The older man rolled his eyes and huffed, but shot Regulus a small, genuine smile all the same.

"We decided on Alexander."

"That's … more traditional than I was expecting from you, truth be told," Regulus mused. "I mean, clearly there's no astronomy connotation as per usual for the family, but a decent name from Greek mythology wasn't something I'd considered. You know, seeing as you once named the family owl 'Wings'," he added wryly.

His brother flushed deeply. "I was five, you prick! That doesn't count!"

"Sure, sure," he waved with a smirk. This was funnily enough close to the discussion he had with Harry upon purchasing that demented serpent who was currently overjoyed at the two brand-new 'hatchlings' he got to observe on a daily basis. He wondered what it said about the people in his life that they continuously said things that indicated a deep-seated – and rather desperate – need for a Mind-Healer, but considering he'd voluntarily married one of the morons, he supposed he didn't have much room to talk.

"And as for middle names, I decided on Remus," he added with a glare at Regulus. (Said glare was rather pathetic in comparison to some of the ones he'd witnessed from Harry, though perhaps his husband having eyes the same shade as the Killing Curse upped the fear factor a bit.)

Regulus raised a brow bemusedly. "Don't you mean you and Lupin both chose his name for your son?"

"No, I mean I chose it and badgered Remus 'til he caved."

The younger of the two wondered if Sirius realised how passive-aggressive he was being right now. First, he went and got pregnant out of wedlock, then he eloped and took the name of his werewolf lover – Walburga'sface would be hilarious to witness – then upon giving birth ensured that every part of his son's name wasn't like the House of Black. Even more, he used the Black tradition of naming a son after his father, but ensured the child bore the name of the non-Black parent instead.

His brother was essentially being a snarky bitch. Though Regulus would give him points for subtlety. For once.

Lost in amused contemplation over the other man's digs at their family – and how there might actually be multiple layers to the hot-headed imbecile – he missed the sedate expression work its way across Sirius' face.

"You know," his brother started slowly, teeth absentmindedly chewing his lip as the man studied Regulus warily, "I still …" The older man sighed and met his eyes head on, familiar determination lighting up the silver orbs, though thankfully without the glint of cruelty Regulus recognised from school. "Despite all the crap that's happened, and all the – all the times I've fucked up and … let you down, we're family. At least, we're related."

Regulus watched bewilderedly as his shitty – and perhaps not-so-shitty after all – brother looked at him with no small amount of guilt and conviction, for the first time looking like a grown man owning up to his mistakes. It wasn't a sight he'd expected to see any time soon, if at all, and truthfully a sight he'd – perhaps foolishly, buried deep in the back of his mind – craved to see ever since Sirius came back from Hogwarts for the first time and spoke of another as if he were more of a brother than Regulus himself.

He couldn't decide if this situation was more disconcerting or heartening.

"My point is, we're – we're family," Sirius carried on, seemingly not realising he was repeating himself in his flustered state. "And we've got our own kids now, and I want them to be family, too." Huh, Grandmother must have finally gotten through his thick skull. "All of them, my son, your girls, James' daughter, they're all family." The older man looked down at the dozing infant before focusing piercing silver on him.

"James might be his godfather, but you're his uncle."

Regulus might not have moved outwardly, but on the inside he was stunned. More than acknowledging they were family once more – something the other had never done at school – he'd recognised Regulus as family to his child, a defenceless baby, a baby he could have sheltered from the House of Black entirely. (Though his husband's mention of Melania Black bullying Sirius into allowing her access to his progeny might have made a memorable impression in his brother's subconscious. His grandmother was rather skilled at getting her way, after all.)

Making a split-second decision – something that indicated he'd spent too much time with Harry if he was displaying Gryffindor-like tendencies; truly disgusting – he smiled at his brother, disregarding the mocking smirk for once.

"You might be my daughters' uncle, but I'd like to also name you Carina's godfather, if you're amenable."

Wide grey eyes blinked a few times before his brother's face lit up and he nodded rapidly, beaming as he did.

"I'd love to!"

Maybe the next generation can have a better family than we did.

"Wait a minute," Sirius muttered with a furrowed brow. He shot Regulus a suspicious look and studied him intensely. "You didn't name me godfather to one-up me, did you?"

What the fuck is he on about? "What nonsense are you spouting now?"

"I didn't name you godfather, but you did for me!" Sirius exclaimed while jabbing a finger in his direction. "Are you trying to be the better man or something?"

Oh, for the love of …

"Congratulations, Brother, you've proved once more that your lack of intellect goes hand in hand with your lack of common sense. There's a reason dogs aren't known for their brains, you know."

"You stuck-up, little bastard! You're always like this, having to be the one that comes out on top every time!"

"You self-centred, obnoxious –"

"Self-centred?! Have you forgotten the time you –"

"As soon as you're done holding that child, I'm going to curse –"

"Bring it on! Or have you forgotten you're talking to an Auror–"

"There's no way you weren't dropped on your head as a child –"

"Says the one who –"

As the two brothers descended into petty bickering interspersed with casual threats of murder and/or grievous bodily harm, Harry was stood just outside the door leaning against the wall, fist shoved into his mouth to silence the hysterical laughter threatening to spill out and alert the two stooges inside.

It was nice to have confirmation that, despite Regulus' resolute proclamations, he really didn't marry a mature man.

Hearing the conversation devolve into unresolved childhood spats, Harry stumbled off down the hall with tears in his eyes and made his way towards the floo room. It'd be nice to see his babies again, even if they clearly had no hope.

Between him and Regulus, their children were doomed to insanity.

"Hello again, Hadrian. How have you been?"

"I've been good. How about you, Narcissa?"

The blonde woman smiled serenely at him, the expression beatific if understated, and she shifted the tiny child in her arms before gazing lovingly down at him.

Lovingly at baby Draco who was a hell of a lot cuter than Harry would have expected of the ferret.

"I've been wonderful. Raising a child is certainly more demanding than what we're led to believe, though it is infinitely more rewarding in return. I cannot fathom those who leave child-rearing to elves and simply act as a concept in their children's minds rather than a continuous presence. It's revolting when you consider the ramifications."

Harry nodded along with her, genuinely agreeing while making sure his inner bemusement didn't appear on his face. This Narcissa Malfoy was a far cry from the quiet and cold blonde from before who merely stood at Lucius' side and allowed her son to join the Death Eaters. He knew from before that she hadn't actually joined herself but was a supporter simply from being Lucius' wife. He didn't have any concrete evidence, but he had a feeling that with Voldy hanging over their heads like a psychotic cloud of doom, and Lucius going along with it thanks to his inherent stupidity, Narcissa had had to sit back and let her husband spoil and raise their son as a pawn rather than a child. It wouldn't surprise Harry if Malfoy Jr. had in fact been raised by elves, he was about as subtle as one.

This Narcissa however was quietly confident, visibly content, and obviously loving towards her son, without any apparent fear that she wasn't supposed to be that way with her own child. It seemed that the Dark Tosser being dead and gone for good, as well as the craziest of crazy followers being taken out of the picture, had left the Malfoy family with a better set up than before. Hell, this Draco Malfoy might actually end up a decent bloke.

He thought about that and shuddered. That was too fucking weird to think about.

"I don't think I could let anyone else raise my kids, even if we had loads to look after. I mean, they'd be mine. Why would I let anyone else get to experience all the important parts?" Harry grumbled as he thought about the idiocy of pawning kids off on someone else just because you couldn't be arsed to look after them yourself.

That wasn't a parent, that was a DNA donor.

Narcissa smiled. "I quite agree." Draco whimpered in his sleep and the woman leaned down to soothe the child, murmuring softly to reassure her son before looking at Harry again. "Have you finally decided on godparents for the girls yet?"

"Just two left," he said with a wry grin, knowing it was more than a little unusual for magical children not to have a full set of godparents at three months already. "Of course the godfathers are done, with Sirius and Frank Longbottom for Carina and Lyra, respectively." Because Regulus had strangely enough managed to make a friend in the former Gryffindor during his quest to usurp control of the Board of Governors. My husband, making actual friends with a lion, I'm so proud! (Not that he'd say something so patronising in front of the man he married. Unless he could channel the resulting frustration into sex, anyway.)

"Regulus is actually with Andromeda as we speak, asking her to be godmother to Lyra."

Harry watched as a flash of what seemed to be resignation flash through her eyes, though whether that was because her sister was being asked to be godmother or because her relationship with Andromeda was still rather rocky after so many years of separation, Harry had no clue. Though he wasn't powerless to help, especially as his next words would provide no end of opportunities to bring them closer.

"As for Carina, we'd like for you to be her godmother."

And it wasn't all thanks to Regulus, either. Since meeting her younger version at the wedding, Harry had met Narcissa at least once a month and got on weirdly well with the aristocratic woman. For all that she was more well-spoken and resolutely maintained her pure-blood poise, she was startlingly intelligent and just nice. He had no illusions that she was as deadly as every other member of her birth family, but she was just subtler about it. She was the knife in the back you wouldn't feel until you dropped dead unexpectedly, never expecting the charming blonde to dare kill you.

Harry thought she was amazing.

He watched as pure shock laced through the sky-blue eyes she'd inherited from her maternal family, the woman looking amusingly befuddled. "You … are you certain? Carina is your firstborn, and if you and Regulus have no more children, she'll more than likely be Lady Black in the future. Being a godparent to an heir of the family is a rather prestigious position."

The time traveller waved her off. "Narcissa, this has nothing to do with position or the line of succession, it's because I'd like for my daughter to have a strong female influence in her life, both of them. You and your sister fit the bill there. I mean, Dorea and Melania are around, but they'll be more grandmother figures. And no offence, but your aunt Cassiopeia is a bit too mad for my tastes," he added dryly.

He grinned at her startled laugh, watching a slight flush erupt over her face at his blunt description of Cassiopeia Black. If anything I was being too casual, the woman's fucking mental, no way in hell would I let her be godmother to the girls, she'd probably have them hexing and stabbing people before they could walk.

"I suppose your summation of my great-aunt's character isn't entirely inaccurate," Narcissa demurred with a slight upturn of her lips. How amazingly diplomatic. "Though getting back to the previous topic, I would be delighted to be Carina's godmother, regardless of her possibly earning the family title in the future."

(Not that Narcissa was wrong or anything – no daughter of his would ever feel as if she were worth less or anything just because she was female; the sexist morons of their society were going to get a wake up call if he had anything to say about it – but there were other factors that would affect the family succession at play. Firstly, no way in hell was he going to be the only one to suffer from pregnancy (Regulus could have a taste of that particular torture himself) so he would be having more children, secondly, if his intuition was right, Orion himself would be graciously adding to the family tree himself soon enough with what would probably be a new spouse when he got around to proposing – still need to figure who the hell it is, though – and lastly, there was the fact that any Black could be named Heir as long as they had the blood, main line or not. Even if Alphard got his way and settled down with that poor woman, their potential offspring – God, I hope they get their mother's personality – would also be eligible. Narcissa was getting a little ahead of herself.)

Harry beamed at her. "Great! Now we have godparents sorted, and it only took three months to do."

An airy laugh was his response and he pouted playfully at the blonde woman. "Narcissa, don't be mean to me!" He sobered slightly and cocked his head to the side. "Speaking of, have you decided for Draco yet?"

Blue eyes met green as Narcissa nodded. "There was an older girl at school who assisted me often, and we've kept in contact for years now; she's a rather close friend. I've asked Miss Ianthe Greengrass to be Draco's godmother."

Speaking of the poor woman suffering Alphard's advances. It really is a small world.

"As for Draco's godfather, Lucius was considering asking Lord Nott, but I don't wish for Draco to forget the Black side of his heritage, so I shall be asking Regulus to act as godfather."

So basically, you've railroaded your husband into letting your choices be the only choices, and you managed to get your way. Go, Narcissa.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "I can't see him saying no, he seems very determined to do right by the Black family as of late. Making sure the newer generation are all looked after and grow up together sounds like something he'd be on board with."

"Have you considered trying for another child soon? While you might still be recovering, Regulus is under no such limits," she asked slyly, eyes flashing with wicked amusement. Just because the woman was the living embodiment of 'proper', didn't mean she had no sense of humour. Honestly, Narcissa was wasted on a man like Lucius Malfoy.

Harry smirked back. "He's not, is he? Well, truth be told, we're probably going to wait a year or two for things to settle before we try again." Not that there was much conscious trying last time, but I suppose we were going at it like rabbits. "There's no need for us to rush, not with how magic lets us age so slowly." Grabbing a biscuit, Harry grinned at the woman mischievously. "Besides, I don't want to be too distracted by the girls and miss the opportunity to relish in my husband's inevitable misery from the 'joys' of being pregnant."

A tinkling, mirth-filled laugh was the only response he got, making him chuckle in return. He never thought he'd be on friendly terms with Narcissa Malfoy of all people, but he couldn't say he resented the situation in any way. Besides, it was fun fucking around with Lucius. And he kind of owed Narcissa. But mostly the former.

Footsteps echoing down the hall made the two adults look to the door in unison, watching with interest as a visibly-shocked Lucius strolled in, a hint of excitement flickering in his grey eyes.

"Narcissa, dear."

The blonde man bent down to press a chaste yet loving kiss to his wife's cheek, pulling back to run his fingers through baby Draco's hair with a look of pride on his usually-stern face. He stood up and turned to Harry, his expression considerably warm in comparison to his usual 'I have no soul' face that Harry remembered from his younger years.

"Hadrian. It's good to see you, how have you been? How are the children?"

Harry pasted a smile on his face, glad that his ability to look polite in the face of utter wankers he hated was one of his most developed skills to date. It was even easier when he knew his lack of visible anger would piss someone off. (And Regulus could shut the fuck up calling him passive-aggressive, his husband was awful when it came to Sirius and giving him dog things as gifts.)

"I'm good and so are the twins, thanks for asking. What about you, how's work been?" (Not that Harry gave two shits what went on in the Wizengamot, but he supposed it was polite to ask.)

Lucius smiled at him. "Well, Lord Black's magical primary school is almost ready to run, the property just needs to be warded before it opens next month. I've also been working on a project myself that has finally born fruit. A proposal is all that's left for this stage."

The man kissed his wife and stroked his son's hair once more before nodding to Harry. "I apologise for leaving so abruptly, but there is much to do before the next session. It was good to see you, Hadrian. I will be present for dinner, Narcissa."

At the accepting nods, the man strode out the room looking far too enthusiastic for Lucius Malfoy.

What. The. Fuck. Was. That?

Harry was ... He didn't think there were any words that would fully explain just how fucking confused he was right now. This was Lucius Malfoy, poncy, stuck-up blonde, the prat who happily join the Death Munchers the first chance he got, the spineless git who offered up his only child to Voldy on a silver platter. He wasn't supposed to be smiling, and polite, and actually look enthusiastic about his work and that of others, and seriously what the hell happened to him, he seems nice, is this like a body snatchers situation or something?

Did he have something to do with this bizarre personality transplant? Was his spur-of-the-moment prank with the Imperius somehow responsible for this insanity? I mean, he was just trying to make the twat uncover what was probably the truth – he didn't doubt Andromeda's intelligence for a second – and do something about it, but did he accidentally give the moron some empathy? The ability to feel like a human? Or maybe it was the fact he was no longer playing lap-dog to the Cruciatus-happy psycho he'd been following for years? Harry supposed the majority of his 'friends' were now dead or in prison, so he was kind of free to open up without fear of reprisal. (And Harry still called bullshit on Lucius not being next-door neighbours with the Dementors, but he supposed if the stringent investigations Arcturus had asked for – or forced the government into carrying out, as was probably the case – revealed that Lucius hadn't actually done anything yet other than offer monetary support under coercion, he couldn't really say much. It was still kind of weird (and disgusting) that he only joined because his dad made him. What a shitty father.)

Anyway, Lucius Malfoy was now weird as fuck, had seemingly donned a costume of a decent human being, and the Malfoy family didn't seem trapped on its previous course to implode in just under two decades. Huh. How about that? I was only trying to mess with the prat, not turn him into a politer version of the doting dad James'll probably end up being. Harry imagined Draco growing up to be a decent human being and how that might affect his relationships with his peers this time around, including Azalea, and bit his tongue to stifle his hysterics. Oh, fucking hell. Imagine if they got together and made James Potter and Lucius Malfoy in-laws. Jesus Christ, that'd be hilarious!

A wailing baby broke through his – slightly sadistic – musing, and he watched as Narcissa rocked her son to no avail, Draco's tiny face scrunched up as he screamed as if he was having a tantrum of sorts. (Now this Draco was something Harry recognised, all he needed were a couple of goons and some reference to riding daddy's coattails and they were set.)

The woman looked up at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, Hadrian. I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut the visit short and tend to Draco, there's no telling how long this will last."

"It's no problem," Harry waved her off. "I know what it's like, trust me. At least you only have one, when one of the girls start, the other always joins in, no exceptions. And let me tell you, that is something that lasts forever, I swear they play off of each other," he said wearily. Oh, he loved his children immensely, and they were good most of the time, but when they started crying it was relentless. Thank fuck they weren't immune to conjured lights and pictures, he and Regulus would be screwed otherwise.

"Ah, I admit I hadn't considered that." Lips twitched with mirth as she stood up, adjusting her hold on the screaming infant. "I guess I shall see you next time, when we get a chance, that is."

Harry grinned. "Ah, but you've got to come over to mine next time. Carina does need to meet her godmother, after all."

Narcissa visibly softened despite the shrill wails echoing around the room and smiled gently. "Yes, I suppose that is true. Thank you again."

The emotion in her voice was enough to balance the brief words, and Harry felt reassured that his daughter was going to have a godmother that genuinely cared about her as she grew. It was a nice thought.

He smiled and bid the woman goodbye, wandering towards the floo as he imagined what his little girls were doing at this moment in time, and whether or not Regulus was coping well with the two infants by themselves. At least they couldn't walk yet, he supposed.

Stepping into the fireplace, he remembered Lucius' words and froze, thinking back to his impulsive compulsion of the blonde a year ago. This is going to be hell, isn't it? An image of his husband, unimpressed look and all, came to his mind unbidden and Harry winced thinking of the upcoming conversation.

Regulus is going to kill me.

"So … I may or may not have done something you'll think is troublesome. And by 'troublesome', I mean is going to cause waves in our society when it inevitably comes to light. Which it probably will, fairly soon if I'm right."

All this was delivered with casual nonchalance from the man sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning over their daughters with a wide grin on his face as he waved a couple of brightly-coloured stuffed Kneazles in front of their faces. It was endearing to say the least, not just that Regulus' husband was a ridiculously attentive father, but also that his children were responding well to things around them. He just knew they were going to continue to prove themselves to be acutely intelligent the more they aged.

Regulus was heartened to see Carina reach for the pink toy as Lyra was captivated by the deep purple of the other. They might be twins, but they were already showing they were two separate individuals which he was grateful for. He knew that magical identical twins shared a deeper connection with each other in comparison to others, but he didn't want his daughters assuming they were part of a set or anything, that their entire identity was dependant on having an identical sibling. Lyra was Lyra and Carina was Carina, and while they might have uncanny similarities with one another, they were two separate people. Just like how Harry was more than just the son of James and Lily Potter from another time.

Except that Harry was a little shit and was beyond hope.

"What have you done?" he questioned with a flat voice.

Harry peeked up at him briefly and grinned innocently. Too innocently. "Well … You remember that whole, 'I managed to get the mysterious diary from Malfoy without a problem' thing when we getting rid of Riddle?" He paused and snorted, snickering childishly to himself. "Rid of Riddle. That's going to be stuck in my head now." At Regulus' glare, Harry rolled his eyes but carried on. "Anyway, I didn't tell you, but I'm pretty sure you've already figured out that I used the Imperious Curse on the moron to get it done."

"Of course not, I had absolutely no clue that's what you did after you Imperioused my insane cousin who was trained to resist said magic, no clue whatsoever."

"And suddenly I'm reminded of our conversation about you and sarcasm all those months ago," Harry mused while wiggling his fingers at Carina.

Regulus slipped into French. "You're such an annoying shithead."

"Love you too, Darling."

The Black huffed and shook his head; this was going nowhere. He looked Harry in the eye and asked, "So? What else aren't you telling me about what you did to my cousin's husband?"

"Funny story actually. Before I ended up in Grimmauld Place, Andromeda told me this theory about muggle-borns and where they get their magic. Like, it could actually be from magical ancestors. So, I had Malfoy Sr. go and test some muggle-borns with their permission before presenting his findings to the Wizengamot. I think he's done now by the sounds of it, so soon enough everyone's going to know the truth when he finishes his proposal," Harry muttered to himself, seemingly lost in thought while he mindlessly shot coloured ribbons out his wand and waved them in front of the intrigued babies, all the while seemingly ignorant to Regulus' brain shutting down.

What have you done?

Harry clearly didn't give a flying fuck about the political ramifications of his actions, but all Regulus could think of was the stuck-up pure-bloods and how they'd react to knowing those 'inferior' to them were in fact distant cousins, and that didn't even bring in the fact that news laws would need drafting over things like guardianship and education. Not to mention the classifications of blood status if this was true – which it probably was – that technically there would be no such thing as a muggle-born if their magic in fact came from someone magical on their family tree.

Not that Harry obviously cared about causing revelations that destroyed centuries worth of commonly-held beliefs and ideals, all before setting them alight and dancing on the ashes. He was just playing a prank, what did he care about the fall-out?

Why did he have to marry an idiot?

He watched as Harry chuckled and laid on the floor next to the girls, waving his ribbon-covered hand in front of their eyes as he played around. Regulus felt his tension melt at the sight. Yes, Harry had once more done something that had far-reaching consequences, but as long as he passed along some information to his grandfather Arcturus – who was thankfully content not to ask where he or Harry got their information as long as if was reputable; thank Merlin for small mercies, it'd be a pain otherwise – the older man would probably find some way to ingratiate himself into the project and twist things around to make the family seem better and ensure nothing extreme happened at the knowledge. (Seeing as it was only the good graces of Grandfather that let the blonde imbecile marry Cissa, Malfoy doesn't stand a chance of refusing.)

Regulus put aside his paperwork for the school opening next month – which ordinarily would have taken much longer to get up and running, but this was a Black project, money and cunning went a long way towards greasing the wheels – and stood up, walking over to his family and crouching down to meet amused green eyes head on.

"You don't actually care about what you've done, do you?"

Harry cocked his head. "Should I?"

Bloody Gryffindors.

The taller man leaned forward and crawled on top of Harry, laying down carefully so their faces were aligned. He brushed his nose over his husband's, smirking at how Harry scrunched his nose at the tickling sensation. It was absurdly adorable, in all seriousness. Regulus leaned down, taking care not to squash Harry's glasses, and pressed their lips together. At the pleased hum he pressed harder, teasing the lips beneath with a brief swipe of his tongue, but ultimately keeping the contact chaste. 'Intimacy' and 'lust' weren't synonymous with one another, after all.

He pulled back slowly and pecked Harry's smooth cheek, nuzzling the skin and very much appreciating the shiver he elicited. He peered up at Harry's eyes and smiled genuinely at the affection he saw. Even with the lust he could see, there was no denying that Harry loved him, and not for the first time he wondered what he could have possibly done to deserve such a good man as his spouse.

Before he could say anything to communicate such thoughts, a sound echoed from their side and two sets of eyes widened simultaneously, green and silver both looking stunned at the noise. They turned to where it came from and lay still, watching in awe at the sound's origin.

The girls were laughing.

High-pitched, squealing giggles came from the twins who were currently staring at their parents, lips stretched across their faces with dimples in their chubby cheeks. Baby-blue eyes were wide and innocent, yet the angelic faces were lit up with simple joy as they laughed at the two adults lying next to them.

"This is their first time laughing," Harry said breathlessly, bright green eyes boring into the adorable scene.

Regulus thought everything about this scene was magical in a way that had nothing to do with spells and wands. His husband, his two daughters, all of it. He pulled himself off of Harry and sat up, leaning over to pick up Lyra as Harry did the same with Carina. The silver-eyed man buried his nose into the silky-black hair that mirrored his own and grinned, feeling stupidly lucky for finding an unconscious man in his attic the previous year.

He looked up to see Harry laughing and rubbing his nose against Carina's, beaming wider and wider the more she laughed, and Regulus couldn't help but chuckle himself. The sound made Lyra giggle at him and he studied her little face, wondering how her and her sisters' eyes would change as they got older. He was privately hoping they were as green as Harry's; Blacks they may be, but Harry was also their father, something he hoped they'd always remember.

Harry grinned at him over their daughters' heads and leaned forward, kissing him hard to the sound of baby laughter between them. Regulus closed his eyes and sank into the feeling once more, pushing forward harder than usual to compensate for his hands being busy.

A few minutes later the kiss tapered off and Harry smiled at him. "I love you, you know."

"Hmm, I know. Love you, too."

His husband flushed slightly at his serious tone, which was beyond endearing considering everything they'd already been through together. The good, the bad, all of it. It was nice to know that despite everything, a simple confession was sufficient to catch Harry off guard and make him smile shyly like when Regulus started flirting with him. Though speaking of the bad …

"But just because I love you doesn't mean we won't be having words about this thing with Malfoy."

Harry just blinked at him before grinning sheepishly, lowering his head to bury his amused face in Carina's hair. Regulus just rolled his eyes at the simple evasion.

Why do I even bother?

A/N: Hey guys!

A belated Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!

I know this hasn't been updated in a while and I'm sorry for that. I think my resolution this year should be not to start so many fics at once lol. At least not publish them, anyway.

So ... we have all the babies! And yeah, baby Harry is a girl because I find the idea of Regulus mocking him hilarious. And he and Sirius are totally mature adults ;)

Another thing, do you guys mind if I maybe skipped a year or two at some point? I have plans for the Black family tree - hint hint ;) - and I think it'd be nice to get into some more of it.

Anyway, I'm sorry again this chapter took so long. When I finally got around to starting it, I was aiming for a quick 3000-ish words to put out, but I just kept writing and writing and delaying it. But better late than never, I suppose. Maybe?

See ya next time, and happy reading!