Occultation – An event that occurs when one celestial body conceals or obscures another.

Five years after originally finding out he was pregnant, Arrakis Black was worried.

The war was now dangerous enough that he was planning on leaving the country on a more permanent basis. He had done small trips since the birth of his children, but had not been gone for more than a month in that time. It was more than just Mira and Alphen now; he had given birth to Rasalhague Unukalhai and Vindemiatrix Praecipua Black – Sal and Demi – two years after the first twins. The younger set was approaching three years old now – old enough that it would be safe to take them to an obscure part of the world on a purported "research trip" while Arrakis hid from the war and its effects.

There was only one problem: he was pregnant again. And he couldn't take a baby with him.

He didn't want to leave the baby alone with house-elves, he definitely wasn't leaving his son with Muggles, and he couldn't leave the baby to Narcissa and her husband, or Bellatrix and hers – their husbands were both Death Eaters, and Voldemort would want to know where the baby came from. That same concept ruled out anyone on the Dark side of magic.

That only left one option. Harry sighed as he pulled out a piece of parchment and began a letter to his second-youngest cousin.

Surprisingly, Sirius agreed to meet him at a Muggle café only a few days later.

"What's this about, Harry?" the man said as he flopped down into the chair opposite him. "Or is it 'Arrakis' now? I know you purebloods tend to get stuffy about things like that."

Harry easily ignored the jab and smiled at Sirius.

"Harry is fine, cousin," he replied. "Only your lord grandfather, your mother, and official documents call me Arrakis."

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"I'm surprised you even contacted me. I am disowned. And a blood-traitor. And pretty much completely against everything the family stands for."

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before opening them, looking straight into Sirius' eyes, and saying, "I need your help."

Sirius motioned for him to go on.

"As I'm sure you've noticed, everything about this war is heating up," Harry stated. "Both sides have become more insistent in their recruiting. I don't want to join this war, Sirius. I don't want to be a Death Eater. I haven't the stomach for it. But as it is, I've been put under pressure to officially declare myself for the Dark Lord's cause."

"Do you need help getting away?" Sirius said gravely.

Harry hesitated.

"Not…not exactly. I had plans made. I was officially going off on a research trip to South America. Isolated by the jungle, nowhere I can easily be contacted, and fits with my personality and previous research trips I've taken. Everything was planned perfectly, except…" his voice trailed off.

"Except what?" Sirius prompted.

Harry bit his lower lip.

"I'm pregnant," he admitted. "I'm due in August."

Sirius' eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

"I didn't even know you were seeing anyone! How long has this been going on?"

"I'm not…officially…seeing anyone," Harry sighed. "As far as either of us are admitting, it's a casual thing. But he's one of the reasons I'm leaving. If I keep sleeping with him, I know I'll end up a Death Eater."

"I'd comment on your taste, but I'm pretty sure Andi is the only one of our cousins not sleeping with a Death Eater," Sirius joked in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

Harry grimaced.

"Anyway, I can't take the baby with me, it's not safe for anyone under the age of two to go to the rainforest. I can't leave him with family, they're all Death Eaters or at least affiliated, and then they'd use the baby to make me come back. Do you know anyone on your side of things that would be willing to take in a baby?"

Sirius hesitated.

"I have an idea, and even if it doesn't pan out, I'll ask around. I'll need to talk to the couple I'm thinking of, I think you've met them…"

"Don't tell me," Harry said, raising a hand. "It's better if I don't know."

Sirius shut his mouth with a nod.

"Alright then. I'll go talk to the couple I'm thinking of tonight. I can meet you back here tomorrow with their answer?"

Harry let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Sirius."

Sure enough, Sirius was waiting for him the next day at the Muggle café.

"I have good news and bad news," he said as soon as Harry sat down.

"Bad news first," Harry requested.

"They kind of go together," Sirius replied. "I have a friend who was pregnant – she just lost the baby a few days ago. They haven't told anyone yet, because according to the healers, she can never have any more children."

"I suppose that's the good news?" Harry asked drily. "Go on. What's the catch?"

"They're willing to take the baby, but they want to be named the child's legal godparents, they want custody to go to them if something ever happens to you, and they want to blood-adopt the child so it will legally be Heir to the House."

Harry hesitated, and Sirius obviously noticed. He sighed and said, "I knew you wouldn't go for it. No one would give up their firstborn to be the Heir to another House…"

"Wait," Harry said. "If there's a House, it means that it's a pureblood family. Did you tell them that I'm a halfblood?"

"Pureblood husband, Muggleborn wife," Sirius shrugged. "They wouldn't care. I'm guessing your Death Eater friend was a pureblood too? One that didn't care that he was sleeping with a halfblood?"

"No, he was a halfblood," Harry admitted. "Pureblood mother, Muggle father. He kept it quiet though, same as me."

Sirius jerked back.

"Please tell me you're not sleeping with Snape," he almost begged.

"Severus Snape?" Harry asked in surprise. "No, of course not. He's a bit too young. My not-relationship has been going on for more than five years."

Sirius gaped.

"With that long, it's surprising it took you this long to get pregnant," he joked.

Harry hesitated, then offered his hand to his cousin.

"Will you come to my house with me, Sirius?" he asked. "There's something I need to show you."

Sirius scrutinized his expression.

"If this is just some scheme to get me somewhere isolated so that you can off me…"

"No, no!" Harry shook his head. "I swear you'll come to no harm. I am pregnant and I really do need help."

Sirius finally took Harry's hand, and Harry wasted no time in pulling him down a deserted alley and activating the portkey that would take them to the house.

"Where are we?" Sirius asked once they arrived. "This isn't your townhouse."

"Dublin," Harry stated. "This is where Father had me raised until I was eight. He couldn't have his Mudblood wife and halfblood son anywhere near the respectable parts of the family, after all. But I inherited the house when he died, and it's where I keep my secrets."

Harry led Sirius into the house and up the stairs to the nursery. He carefully opened the door, in case of sleeping children. As it turned out, he didn't need to.

"Daddy!" Demi exclaimed, pulling herself off the ground and toddling over to greet him. Her cry was echoed by that of her older siblings, all of whom rushed over to hug him.

Harry let out a small laugh.

"Hello, my darlings. How are you all today? Have Mipsy and Mopsy been taking care of you?"

"Yes, Daddy," they all chorused.

"Who dat, Daddy?" Sal asked around the thumb that was almost permanently stuck in his mouth, pointing towards Sirius.

Harry dragged the man forward by the elbow.

"This is my cousin, Sirius," he introduced. "You can call him 'Uncle Siri.'"

"Hi, Uncle Siri!" the group chorused again.

Harry smiled at them.

"Uncle Siri and I have things we need to go talk about, but I'll be back to play with you soon."

"Siri too?" Mira asked.

"We'll see," Harry replied, before pulling his shocked cousin out of the room and down the hall to his office.

Once they were shut inside, Harry pushed the dazed man into a chair and called for a house-elf to bring tea. Sirius didn't respond until Harry had pressed the cup and saucer into his hands.

"You have children," he said blankly.

"I do," Harry nodded. "Mira and Alphen are nearly five, Sal and Demi are even closer to three. It will be safe for me to take them with me. It's jus the baby who's too young. And as you can see, I won't be giving up my firstborn, so I think that I can agree to your friends' terms. Have them write up a contract and send it to me through you. I can sign it, and then you can take it back to them so that they can sign it."

"You'd be willing to give up your child to be another's heir?" Sirius asked with raised eyebrows.

Harry sighed.

"I don't mean to sound callous. I love all my children, including this baby. But I have two sons already, one for my inheritance and one for my lover's. In that respect…in that respect, at least, I can afford to give this baby up."

"But you don't want to," Sirius said softly, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on his arm.

"But I don't want to," Harry agreed. "If I could, I would keep all of my children with me. But I need to get out of the country, the sooner the better. I can't wait a few more years for this baby to get older. I can't put my other four children in danger so that we can all be together."

"Very Slytherin of you," Sirius noted. "I thought you were a Ravenclaw?"

"It could have gone either way," Harry admitted. "But my mother was the Heir of Ravenclaw, so I went into Ravenclaw. I could have claimed the title already, but I hesitate to step onto the political playing field when it's already so volatile. And now I'm leaving. Maybe when the war is over…but for now I'll simply remain a minor son of the House of Black."

"I suppose there's safety in anonymity," Sirius said.

"You wouldn't know," Harry scoffed teasingly. "You've never been anonymous. You're not one for subtlety, cousin."

"It's why I was in Gryffindor," Sirius agreed. "I'll go back to my friends, have them write up a contract. If all goes to plan, they'll be able to pretend that Li– that's she's still pregnant, so no one will even know that the child was blood adopted."

"They'll need time to write up the contract," Harry mused. "We can meet at the café again in say, a week?"

"A week sounds good," Sirius agreed.

With his baby's future (somewhat) secure, Harry felt no qualms in writing in the linked journal, Just got confirmation that I'm leaving in March. Want to meet up tonight, make the most of our time?

Raid tonight. I'll be late. Your place or mine? Tom wrote back a few minutes later.

Harry thought a moment, then asked, How early do I need to come to yours? That way I can nap until you make it back.

I'm leaving around 6:30.

Do you mind if I come over early enough for dinner?

As long as you don't make me late for my raid.

Tom was late for his raid.

After several back-and-forths with the contract, both parties were finally satisfied and signed the contract four weeks into July. Two days later, Arrakis went into labor.

Twenty-seven painful hours later, Raselased Denebola Black was finally born. Harry barely had time to hold him before he had to pass the baby off to Sirius, in order for the ruse that one of his Light-side friends was in labor to remain intact.

All of the other children were there as well, and each imitated their bearer's actions in placing a kiss on Raselased's forehead before Sirius whisked their younger brother away.

Harry had a week to recover from the birth, during which time Sirius returned to inform him that both the blood adoption and the presentation of the baby had gone off without a hitch, and no one was the wiser as to whose child it was. Then, he packed his older children up and took them to the Amazon, nowhere near Britain's blood war.

He stayed gone for more than a year. In the end, he only returned for five days because Narcissa's newborn daughter had died three days after birth, and he was required to show up for the funeral.

Tom had, of course, contacted him as soon as he heard about the funeral.

I heard about baby Malfoy. Are you coming to the funeral? he wrote.

Harry was shocked when he saw the message.

What baby Malfoy?! What funeral?! I'm in the Amazon, it takes me days to get mail!

Narcissa gave birth a few days ago – a daughter, Corona Malfoy. The baby died this morning.

Thank you for the news. There's a transport leaving today, so I ought to be able to get out of the jungle by tomorrow. I can be back in Britain in two days. When's the funeral?

Not for a week. How do you feel about spending that week with me?

Harry felt a familiar stirring in his groin, and was pointedly reminded that he hadn't had the company of his lover – or any man, but he wasn't about to sleep with someone else when his regular lover was the Dark Lord – in a year and a half.

The rainforest can spare me for a week. Five days before the funeral, two after? Assuming you're willing to host me that entire time.

Anything for you, dear.

That small sign of affection caused different feelings to stir, the feelings that Harry still wasn't ready to admit to. It was for his children, he reminded himself. The Dark Lord could not have children so long as the war was going on. Arrakis Black could not have children while the war was going on – which was why he was in this research encampment under the name Harry Lesath. His children were firmly known as Alphen, Mira, Sal, and Demi, without any hint of their full names ever being spoken. Everyone in the encampment simply assumed that their last name was Lesath, despite the fact that only Harry had introduced himself as Lesath – his second middle name.

The children were enjoying it. They often played with the local children, as well as the children of some of the other researchers. At six and four, they were the youngest children in the research encampment, but that by no means inhibited them. By this point, they were fluent in English, Spanish, Portuguese, and two or three of the indigenous languages, all of which were picked up by playing with the locals. Harry wasn't sure whether to be exasperated or proud when they used one of the languages that he didn't know yet to speak privately while he was in the room. (In the end, they had just been plotting his Mother's Day present, so everything was fine.)

In the end, Harry got the message from Tom on the twenty-fourth, arrived in Britain on the twenty-sixth, and finally managed to pull himself out of Tom's bed and present himself at Malfoy Manor to express his condolences to his cousin on the twenty-eighth. The funeral was the twenty-ninth, and Harry spent the next two days getting fucked into the mattress before going home the morning of the thirty-first.

(Of course, if he'd stayed just one more day, a lot of the future troubles could have been avoided.)