2am just outside number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, November 1st 1981, it's cold and quiet
'why would Dumbledore leave him here and not send him to us? It makes no sense the will clearly states Harry is ours' Imyra grounds out.
' I never should of let Hagrid take him, I should have invoked the Black name, I'm sorry mimi, we'll get him, go home and then I'll make Peter pay' Sirius replies, his face morphing and betraying his emotions.
The bushes rustle as Imyra stalks towards the bundle on the door step, her brunette hair falls from the cloak hood and mirrors the tears rolling down her cheeks. The bundle shivers almost imperceptibly and to anyone it seems like the wind moved it, but to a mother, the child shivers just slightly. This is her godson, the last vestige of her best friend and her husbands brother, in all but blood. And she'll be damned if anyone but they raise him, especially Lily's mandrake of a sister.
Bending down and picking the child up, Imyra snuggles him to her chest, naturally swaying in the way women do with babies. The child nestles and relaxes and Imyra leans back ever so slightly and takes note of the lightning scar adorning his forehead, a mark to signify his survival. Her heart clenches at the thought of the pain this boy has endured in the last few hours. Placing a kiss on the mark, she walks back to where Sirius is stood and he embraces them before they disappear.
The pair land home, at 13 Muse Lane, deep in the heart of Suffolk, not 12 Grimmauld place as is the familial seat of the Blacks, Walburga lives and hates her son. But rather the Sharpe family seat.
An elf, short and wearing a little shift in regimental green with an aigrette sigil, greets them in the hallway. She has big eyes and floppy ears but her countenance is fierce but sweet.
'mistress, master you's is back, with master Potter I see'
'Yes Pippa, we're back, how is Imogen, still asleep? And can you bring two cots into our room please?' Sirius asks, as he shrugs his coat and places it on the unicorn stand. The events of the last hours starting to roll on him and he runs his hand through his mop of hair. Glancing at his wife, he notices how she doesn't let go of Harry to acknowledge Pippa or move.
'yes master, I do that already, I smart and ahead think when you leave to get master Harry and Miss Imogen fast asleep'
'excellent, that will be all, you may go to bed' Sirius says in a thankful tone, before Pippa disappears, He then turns to Imyra. 'Sweetheart let's go to bed before you topple and we'll sort it out in a few hours together? Hmm' finally Imyra breaks from her stupor and simply nods before making her way to the master bedroom.
The Master Bedroom has sky blue walls and black carpet with a four poster bed adorned by grey and purple bedding. It's normally a happy place but tonight the air feels solemn. By the bay window sits two cots, one is filled with their daughter, a brown haired beauty, who turns 2 in a matter of weeks and the other is for Harry. Not that either will sleep in them tonight.
Once changed into comfy Pyjamas, Imyra and Sirius both place the babies in the middle of the bed and lay on either side. The silence is broken by gasps and whimpers from Imyra.
Placing a hand on her cheek and stroking with his thumb, Sirius speaks softly, his voice braking and betraying his grief. ' hey, hey shhh it's gonna be okay, Harry's here, so is Imogen, they're safe and soon Peter will rue the day he chose power over us'
' we- should. I should have realised, there was always something about him, the stares and the perv if on me and Lily, the way he would listen when Lucius and others spoke their drivel on blood purity. But I just thought he was weird and then there was his animagus' she mutters just loud enough to be heard but not too loud as to wake the babes.
Taking her hand in his and letting his thumb run over the wedding rings. Sirius takes a breath and says' you shouldn't blame yourself, you weren't to know, if anything I'm at fault for suggesting we change secret keepers, I thought they would brush over him, we all thought he was the outlier, I trusted him I... I got them killed' and finally the dam breaks and tears flow faster than his or hers futile attempts to catch them.
'shhh what matters is that we raise Harry in the way that Lily and James would have wanted' She calms him and then they both drift to an uneasy sleep, one hand on the belly of a child.