A long, thin wail filled the darkened birthing-chamber as Walburga's new son, bathed and swaddled in white, was presented to his mother, who lay exhausted upon the wide bed's bloodied covers. She wrinkled her aquiline nose at the child.

"Take it away. I don't want to see it; the wretched thing almost killed me," she declared.

Without a word, the healer bowed and took the child out of the room. Irma's anxious eyes followed them to the door.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to hold him just once, dear?" she asked. "After all, he is your first-"

"No, mother, I'm quite sure I wouldn't." snapped Walburga. "Firstborn or not, I have undergone few more miserable experiences in the course of my life." Getting shakily to her feet, she waved away Irma's offers of support with irritation. A brief dizziness assailed her, but she overcome it through sheer force of will. She tottered unsteadily towards her dressing chamber, where the a warm bath had been prepared for her. As she thought back to the pains, the agony, she closed her eyes and shuddered. Never, never again, she vowed silently to herself.

That, however, was one illusion she would not be permitted to entertain very long.

"Rubbish!" croaked Orion's vile old father, Arcturus. "I've never heard of such nonsense. Why, in my poor mother's day, a shameful thing it would have been for any decent, self-respecting pureblood witch to produce less than three children. No, no, it simply won't do. At least one more, I absolutely insist upon it."

Walburga wanted to strangle her father-in-law, but controlled the impulse. She was seated demurely on a low footstool in the cavernous drawing-room at Grimmauld Place, surrounded by a plethora of prying relatives.

"Your father-in-law is quite right," said Aunt Cassiopeia. "You've waited long enough as it is. Look at your poor Aunt Dorea: going on forty with absolutely nothing to show for it after twenty-odd years of marriage."

"It's unhealthy not to want children," declared shrivelled Aunt Belvina. "What other duty do you have as a good wife, my dear? Surely you aren't imbibing these dirty mudblood ideas, about 'liberation' and 'emancipation' and goodness knows what else? I tell you, you'll be the happier for another child."

"Besides, it's a scrawny enough young runt you've produced," affirmed Aunt Charis, now a mother of three. "I doubt it'll live to see it's next birthday. You may as well turn out a spare, just in case."

"Oh, I think you're wrong there, Charis" said Pollux, Walburga's father. "It whines and moans, but it's a stubborn enough child in its own way. I doubt it'll let go that easily."

Irma approached Walburga, sympathetically patting her hand. "Just think, dear, what if it turns out to be a girl this time? A nice young daughter all to yourself, to bring up just as you please. Think what a comfort that would be!" she whispered coaxingly. "And what great fun, too! You'll be able to buy her clothes, and dress her hair, and do all sorts of things together," she continued, forgetting what little solace her own daughter had been to her.

Walburga sighed. She could see that the battle was lost. "Very well, father, I understand. Orion & I will continue trying. But do let us wait a year or so, if you please."

Pollux nodded understandingly, and held up a hand to silence the grumbling Arcturus. "Of course, dear," he said kindly, "You just take your time."

And that was that.

x.x.x.

Later that evening, as Irma sat alone in her dressing room, gloomily clipping her nails, there was a tap against the door. It opened, and in walked Lycoris, Arcturus' sister.

Lycoris Black was the cuckoo in the family nest…literally. With her broad, square face, bulbous nose, slow brown eyes, and a head of thick red hair, Lycoris looked unlike any other Black, alive or dead. The whole family knew the story of Great-Aunt Hesper's little indiscretion with Barbatius Belby while her husband travelled in Greece. Consequently, Lycoris had never been permitted to marry and spread her tainted blood.

Heaving, she sat down next to Irma. "That silly girl of yours doesn't know what she's missing," declared Lycoris, but without malice. "What wouldn't I have given to be able to call a child my own, cradle it in my arms, knowing it to be my own flesh and blood? Tell me, Irma, what greater joy is there for a woman than to bear children?"

"I can't say I know, cousin. I often think how much better it would have been for Walburga if she was born a man." sighed Irma. "She's so like her grandfather that it frightens me. Always talking about blood purity, the need to purge society, talking politics, saying the most vicious things about muggles and mudbloods. Not, of course, that there's anything wrong with that," she added hastily. "I only wish that she'd enjoy life while she can, and leave all that sort of business to the men. Half of everything she says flies over my head. Do you know, she hasn't so much as looked at baby Sirius since the birth? It worries me, I swear it does." Suddenly, without warning, Irma began weeping, silently and laboriously.

Shocked, Lycoris moved to put an arm round her. "There, there, dear, you don't need to worry about anything. It'll all come right in the end, you'll see," she said soothingly. "Once there's another child, everything will be alright. It's just the shock of the first time, you know. There's nothing for you to worry about! Here, blow your nose."

Irma took the proferred handkerchief, and dabbed delicately at her eyes. "Thank you, I feel better. I – don't know what came over. Just the worry of it all, I suppose." she sniffed.

"Now, now, you go to bed and get a good night's sleep. We'll talk it over tomorrow if there's anything as still worries you." said Lycoris. She waited until Irma was comfortably ensconced between her bolsters, and then ambled out of the room.

Irma lay awake a little longer, thinking of how happy she'd been when she'd first had a child, little Walburga. Those first few years, especially when Alphard & Cygnus followed, had been among the happiest of her life. And now look at the state of things. Ah, well, at least she could look forward to the pitter patter of yet more little feet in years to come. Beaming at the thought, she closed her swollen eyes and promptly fell asleep.