On the wings of the wind

Over the dark rolling deep

Angels are coming to watch over your sleep

Hear the wind blow, hear the wind blow

Lean your head over and hear the wind blow

Harry looked up to see who was singing. It was a woman. Her eyes were shut; she was rocking him, and he grabbed at her long hair as it dangled in his face.

On the wings of the night

May your fury be crossed

Let no one that's dear to our island be lost

Calm be the wind, calm be the foam

Shine the light brightly to guide them back home

The woman stopped singing and opened her eyes. Harry saw that they were bright and green and full of happiness. Her hair was a dark shade of red and very thick. It was fun to grab at. She laughed and held him close. She smelled like flowers. When he felt a familiar heartbeat, he was instantly soothed.

"So," she said in her calming voice. "I see you recognize your mummy."

Mummy. It was wonderful to hear it. Harry only hoped she would love him and hold him forever.

"And over there is your daddy," she continued.

Daddy? Harry turned his head to where his mummy's hand was pointing. There, asleep in an old armchair, was a tall, thin man with messy black hair. His glasses were clutched in one hand. He was snoring very loudly. Harry wanted his daddy to talk to him and hold him, too. But right now he seemed very sleepy. Harry was feeling sleepy too, especially when his mummy rocked him again and smoothed his hair comfortingly. But he couldn't sleep, because over in the armchair his daddy was snoring so, so loud…

Harry started awake, his heart beating madly. At first he didn't know where he was, but he was in a very dark room and even though his mother was gone and he was in a bed he could still hear the snoring—then he looked over in a corner and collapsed in a wooden chair nearby was not James, but Sirius. And then everything came back.

"S-Sirius…?" Harry said faintly. The pain in his stomach was gone, although he did feel sleepy and kind of achy.

"W-Whuh?" Sirius jumped and awakened with a snort. "Who's there?"

"It's me, Harry," whispered Harry, without knowing exactly why he was whispering.

"Oh…Harry." Sirius smiled and lifted his head up. "How you doing, kid? Feeling better?"

"Yeah, a little," Harry told him.

"Glad to hear it," said Sirius, hoisting himself up from the chair and coming to sit on the end of Harry's bed. "Madame Pomfrey says you have to spend the night in the hospital wing, and that you might have aching joints to some extent. But you'll be better by tomorrow."

They were silent for a bit, then Harry smiled.

"So, Sirius," he said. "Feel like a dad yet?"

"What?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. "W-What's that got to do with it?"

"Well, you probably just saved my life, for one thing," Harry reminded him, reaching out his hand, and Sirius held it. "You heard what Madame Pomfrey said. My friends were all telling me I had indigestion, so if you hadn't been there my appendix would've ruptured and it would've killed me. You saved me."

"Oh, Harry, I'm no hero," said Sirius, squeezing Harry's hand. "I'm just doing my duty."

"Sirius, if you love your new baby even half as much as you love me, you're going to be an awesome dad," Harry told him. "You might not think you're a hero. But you're my hero."

Tears shimmered in Sirius's eyes and he swallowed as he looked at the floor and stroked his unshaven chin. For once he was without words—but Harry understood.

…

Sirius wrote Harry a note to get him out of Potions the next day, even though he really did feel 100% better. Harry was sure Madame Pomfrey saw through his fake moaning at once, but since he had a note from his legal guardian, there wasn't much she could do. Harry made a miraculous, instantaneous recovery around lunchtime as soon as Potions was over, and he ate lunch with Ron and Hermione, then went to Care of Magical Creatures.

Sirius was trying to pull himself together, but Harry could tell he was very distracted, thinking about how he and Barbara would be at the OB-GYN this time tomorrow. They were studying flobberworms, which were like regular worms only more boring, Harry guessed because Sirius didn't want to have to deal with anything that was actually hard to teach.

"What's wrong with your godfather, do you know?" Seamus Finnigan asked Harry.

"I have no idea," Harry lied.

Sirius didn't drink before classes. But as soon as class let out, he headed towards his teacher's quarters, and Harry had a good idea of what he planned on doing there. He ran after Sirius, calling his name.

"Hello, Harry," said Sirius glumly. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to tell you, I don't think you should be drinking today," Harry panted, out-of-breath due to running.

"Why not?"

"Because you're going to be a dad, and getting drunk whenever you're stressed out isn't a good example for your baby," Harry told him.

Sirius thought about it for a minute.

"Okay, fine, you're right," he admitted. "But at least let me have one? Just to take the edge off?"

"Only one," Harry said strictly. "Because remember, you have to fly all the way to London tonight."

"I know." Sirius smiled weakly. "You really think it'll be okay?"

"Of course," Harry replied. "How about this? You come back Sunday evening, and then you can tell me and my friends in the Gryffindor common room."

"Deal," said Sirius.

…

Harry couldn't help feeling some anxiety himself the next day. He didn't know if Barbara was seeing her doctor in the morning or in the afternoon, but it was bugging him all the same. What if Barbara really did miscarry again? Sirius had already lost so many people he cared about…and Harry knew it wouldn't matter one bit that Sirius had never actually met the baby. The fact that he had one, and then lost it, would be bad enough.

It was impossible to sleep Saturday night, and Sunday seemed to slog by. Tonight, he would find out…If the baby had been lost, Sirius would probably tell Harry in private, but if everything truly was fine, he would announce it in the Gryffindor common room to everyone there. Quite possibly, the baby would be like a little brother or sister to him.

Sunday night, after dinner, Harry was sitting in the common room, staring into space. Hermione and Ron kept asking him what was the matter, but he didn't answer them. He couldn't. Like Sirius, he was now fearing the worst…

And he felt his heart jump into his throat as he heard footsteps out in the corridor—and then the portrait swung open.