Chapter 6: Mysterious

Eveline Smith – thirty-two years old, former Hufflepuff like most of the Smith family, mother of two boys of five and three, certified auror since 1968, voluntary ATP supervisor since she'd made senior auror the year before – decided here and there that she wasn't going to pull a James Potter with the information about room 8.

In other words, she was, as dutifully as possible, going to deliver all the relevant information without making Black fret.

"The triplets."

The newly-and-unexpected-father-of-eighteen blinked at her – he might have still been thinking about the child in room 13 and whatever his home situation had been like – but refocused quickly enough.

"The triplets who are technically twins but more than two? What about them?"

That threw Eveline for a loop – she hadn't thought of that, in fact, when Black had started telling them about his impossible twin sister, but indeed – but she had something to say, and she'd already decided she wouldn't pull a Potter.

"Their mother's name is Evans, apparent..."

At that, Potter let out an outraged "Did you steal my wife?!" and Black shushed him with a swat on the nose – and a wince that seemed to say he'd expected something like that, which did give some depth to his best friend's question, to be frank.

Except Eveline knew better, because she hadn't finished her sentence.

And she wasn't going to let Potter force her into pulling a James Potter.

"Let me finish, will you? Their mother is a muggle, Rose Evans, apparently she's a cousin of your wife. The children were..."

Once again, Potter interrupted her – this time with a slightly humourous smile, which didn't seem to please his friend at all.

"Oh. Wants me to arrange you a date, Sirius?"

"Will you let her talk, you twat?!"

Eveline silently thanked her trainee for his intervention – though she wasn't entirely convinced it'd do much of anything, considering who the twat was.

On top of that, even if she hadn't known what she'd been about to say before James Potter butted in...

Well. Black had, in her opinion, more important things to deal with than dating, right now. He'd be able to think about all that once he'd be at least a bit more at ease with the existence of his gaggle of children.

"As I was saying, your kids were helpfully unhelpful, in that they answered every question I had but I could see they were trying to keep some things close to the chest, more so than the others. They seemed on their guard, and the mini-you did most of the talking."

She saw Black squinting at her words – what could the children have to hide, truly?

"From what I understand, Rose Evans lives with a man named 'Sean Evans', which would be somewhat believable if you were out of the picture and Evans was her husband's surname and not her own. You know what that means?"

Potter sagged on himself, and once again spoke before Black – but at least this time he didn't interrupt her. She guessed that was progress.

Maybe.

"No date, then?"

Black looked exasperated – this wasn't the moment to think on the fact that Rose Evans and him apparently hadn't worked out. If that was even what had happened, and Smith doubted it.

Black had reached a similar conclusion to her own, once he'd let go of Potter's comments.

"Either Lily's cousin managed to find a husband unrelated to her but with the same family name, or I go around with a fake first name and having taken my wife's surname."

Eveline nodded.

"I guess you had to hide from some of your less savory family members, if you were to marry a muggle."

A wince, and then a darker look on Black's face.

"Or I'm hiding from the authorities after having committed murder in the wizarding world. Hopefully it's not that one."

Eveline blinked, unsure of what to say to that kind of statement – most people didn't assume they were on the run for murder when talking about possible timelines. Alright, most people didn't have to talk about possible timelines the way Black currently had to, so there was that, too.

Sirius pushed his hair back against his skull in a gesture of universal helplessness, and turned back towards the door of the interrogation room. The children and Arcturus were behind that door.

"Alright. Two kids without a father, one with a problematic mother, four with a mother who's currently underage, two with a non-existent mother, one who comes from another world, two with a fifteen-years gap but the same mother, three who are my twin sister's kids, and the triplets are hiding something. That is not going to go awry, at all."

Luckily neither James nor Smith seemed to notice the "another world" comment, because Sirius found he didn't want to explain that right now.

"Do you mind if I take my afternoon, Smith?"

The older woman gave him a look that meant she'd drag him out of the office if he didn't, so he guessed that meant he could.

"Go and get to know your kids, Black. You have a lot to deal with, right now, and I'm pretty sure you'd be unable to fill the paperwork for today's incident if you had to. I'll deal with that, and tomorrow morning you'll go through it, add what you need, and send it to Rapace."

Which meant Sirius wouldn't be the one who'd need to explain to Marilyn Rapace, current head auror, why exactly he wasn't at work this afternoon. Brilliant. The witch had survived five years at the helm of the official warforce of the british wizarding community as Voldemort's forces were getting bolder and bolder – she and Barty Crouch usually sent their respective criminals to one another, playing Charybdis and Scylla for the dark wizards fallen in the dangerous waters of the DMLE – and no one really liked facing her with irregularities to explain.

All that to say, Sirius didn't fear – he honestly didn't fear much in this life – explaining all that to her, but if he could not, that'd be best, certainly.

Smith smiled at him, and patted him on the arm.

"And don't forget about your other daughter. You do have to go and get Juliet at 5 pm."

A moment of hesitance – during which Sirius marveled at the fact that apparently everyone did think of Juliet as his daughter, despite the circumstances, despite the fact that she was five and him only nineteen, that he hadn't adopted her officially yet.

"You'll have to explain them to her, too. And maybe her to them."

Great. More things to explain.

Sirius really hoped Juliet wouldn't take that to mean he wouldn't want her anymore, now that he had – technically – blood children.

He searched for reassurance on James' face, but the twat only looked politely confused about what was expected of a best friend in such situations. James had never been the most emotionally available of them all – amongst the Marauders, that was probably Remus; then Peter; Sirius himself was very in touch with understanding how others felt, but not quite so conciliant as to let those feelings get in his way. James operated on the basis that what he felt was universal, and others were being difficult if their feelings didn't agree. Luckily he'd married Lily, who was much more understanding even if she tended to think she knew everything.

Sirius sighed, and shook his head.

"I'll see you tomorrow, James."

A bright smile.

"Sure. Send us an owl if you think Lily and the guys can drop by this weekend, okay?"

"Okay."

He wasn't sure he would, but he appreciated the offer.

Peter would probably be terrified by the news of his many children, and therefore they should not tell him until he had them in front of him – that'd be hilarious.

The three of them left the interrogation room number 1, and Smith dragged James back to the Auror Office's common space – "You, Potter, still have paperwork to do, from what I understand, and Fawley and Scrimgeour won't let you get away with Black's excuse, because it's his and not yours!".

That left Sirius with his grandfather, who was looking boredly patient, and the eighteen children he'd somehow appropriated from other versions of himself – including Adhara, which was, wow, unexpected much.

Arcturus rose up from his seat, handed Stefania back to his grandson, and asked:

"Are you ready to go home?"

Sirius was, of course, not ready to do anything at all, but he nodded nonetheless. The alternative was to stay here, in the corridor, until he felt more confident – and that wasn't going to happen anytime soon, so.

"Perfect. We're heading for the Atrium's fireplaces, I'll open the way or the Manor's floo won't let the children in. Sirius, you close the line, make sure none of the kids go and wander, would you?"

"Sure."

Lamia and Harfang scoffed at that, but they also went and held their youngest siblings' hand, so they probably understood why their great-grandfather had just said that. Aldebaran looked up at his oldest sister with a confused look – Sirius hadn't yet had the chance to talk with him, but he didn't seem particularly disturbed by the circumstances, for now – but Orion grabbed harder at his brother's hand. Shivansh, who seemed to be about the same age as Orion and Aldebaran, went to hold Varsha's hand on his own.

Of course, all those who were twelve or older didn't seem to think they needed reassurance – or surveillance. Merlin knew Sirius hadn't felt like being coddled at twelve – though that might have had to do with coming back a Gryffindor for the christmas holidays, and with his mother's appreciation of such a fact.

Arcturus made his way to the exit.

"Don't look at people, even if they start talking about you. You are, for all intents and purposes, members of the House of Black. They don't have to know more, or to question your presence with me."

Sirius watched as the children formed something akin to a school line, two by two for most of them. Harfang and Orion, Lamia and Aldebaran, Alastor and Elizabeth, Varsha and Shivansh, Antares and Hyades and Almaric – because triplets didn't go in pair, obviously – Adrienne and Procyon, while Nashira went next to Marianne and Dana decided she'd keep an eye on Altair. He himself had Fania in his arms, so he guessed that was also a pair.

They'd be a right sight for anyone they'd cross on the way to the fireplaces, considering Arcturus was playing the part of schoolmaster at the head of their procession. Lord Black, a dozen and a half unknown Black children, and the wayward second heir of the family making their way through the Ministry of Magic.

With some luck, they'd only cross paths with a handful of Ministry workers – no one Arcturus or Sirius knew personally, people who might gossip but wouldn't try to extort an explanation out of them. A look at his pocket watch told him it was a quarter to three in the afternoon, so most people were working inside their offices and not walking around.

Except whoever did not belong to the Ministry but might have an appointment.

Sirius grimaced, and kept his gaze straight ahead as his grandfather led them out of the corridor and through the headquarters' entrance. The welcome wizard may have raised an eyebrow at their procession, but he wouldn't know, because he made it a point not to look at anyone.

"Black, Smith said you're leaving early?"

"Hm."

A silence – maybe spent eyeing the Black gaggle – damn it, Smith, word choices, that was her fault!

"Alright, I'll note you out."

"Good afternoon, Lee."

Arcturus' voice forced him to actually look at someone.

"Nothing to get back from the cloakroom?"

"No, I came like that."

Well, without the unexpected scions and manipulative grandfather, but, same thing.

They left the Auror Office, and didn't encounter anyone on the way to the lifts. Sirius noticed the triplets whispering to each other, eyes wide open and a cautious look on their faces. The one who looked the more like him kept telling the other boy to keep it down, while the girl looked around with curiosity – he'd see her face whenever she turned around to inspect something in more details.

Now that he had the time to observe the three of them, he realized she may look like Bellatrix at that age – not that he remembered much of it, he'd been four when Bella was thirteen, but photographs did exist and except for the jaw and the eyes, they did look like twins – but that was about all she had in common with his cousin. Where Bellatrix had always stood as if in defiance – let's not talk about how Sirius did the same – Hyades looked content with her place in the world, unbothered by what people may expect of her. She didn't look at things how her father or cousin might, as if searching for a hint of ill-intent.

Sirius hoped that meant he'd raised her right, with a better childhood than he'd known – supposing he was, in fact, "Sean Evans". But maybe that was just a difference in personality.

Difficult for him to learn more, in regards to her brothers, considering the two had their back to him, and he could barely hear snippets of what they were saying – it reminded Sirius of James and himself, when they'd been planning something in between classes and could barely wait to tell Peter and Remus.

Faced with the lifts, Sirius shared a look with his grandfather. Twenty people, even with one of them a baby, weren't going to fit in one. And that was without counting the attendants.

Sirius hesitated, caught a look from Arcturus, and understood he was expected to handle this.

He didn't particularly like doing what was expected of him just because it was expected of him, but. This was probably not the moment to exercise that dislike, not for this, not with the children watching and waiting and counting on him – if they did. They might not.

"Alright, hm. Two lifts, just to be sure? Nash... No, never mind that, Marianne, could you call two lifts, please?"

Nashira might not even know what a lift was. Or how to call one. She'd, technically – probably, Sirius had been unconscious at that time – taken one to get to the interrogation rooms, but the word itself, or how to use one? Nope. She looked like she belonged in a high fantasy novel with her clothes and blade, maybe they had lifts there, but maybe not.

Marianne – who he still hadn't talked to, not before right now, and the first thing he'd done was ask her to call the lifts, great, perfect – blinked, but did as she'd been asked. Adhara had brought her up with much more manners than Sirius would ever manage, he was sure – then again, maybe it had been her husband's influence.

"Okay, lift 1, Grandfather, please, could you take Lamia and her siblings, and, hum, Nashira, Marianne and Adrienne and Procyon, and Altair, too. Fania and I will go with Dana, Varsha and Shivansh, the triplets, and Harfang and Orion."

There, two groups of ten. The Ministry's lifts were big enough, he thought he'd already seen seventeen people in one – though they'd been squeezed tight, and someone had left with his coffee.

"We're heading for the Atrium, level 8."

Hopefully the lifts would be empty, save for the attendants, and they wouldn't have to split up more than that. He could, if necessary, trust one of the older kids – let's say, Lamia, Harfang, Dana or Marianne, anyone above sixteen – to handle overseeing their siblings, but he'd rather not. For all that Sirius was certain they were all good kids – for a certain definition of "good" – he didn't know them, and most importantly they didn't all know each other. If one of them decided to dart out of the lift without a warning, well. Most of them wouldn't see it coming.

Sirius turned to look at the lifts when he heard a great CLANG and saw a golden grille open up, an empty lift revealing itself behind it – well, there was an attendant, but the wizards had perfected the art of ignoring people unless spoken to. He looked at Arcturus, who nodded and started pushing his group of Black kids inside.

A few seconds later, another one came.

There was a tall witch inside, who did a double-take as she noticed the obvious – Sirius, the baby, his thirteen-years-old clone, and the six pairs of silver eyes to go with Sirius' own. Oh, wait, Fania was awake and reaching for his hair, again.

Sirius gave the witch a hard stare, unwilling – and unable, but she didn't have to know that – to explain himself to a stranger.

She didn't say a word, as the lift started to move – "Grab a rope, kids, or you might end on the floor." – though she'd steal glances now and then.

Sirius, himself, used the time in the lift to look at Varsha and Shivansh – as Peter would tell you with a terrified look on his face, Sirius loved anything that moved violently in any direction, as evidenced by his incomprehensible love for the Knight Bus and therefore he wasn't inconvenienced by the lurches and jerks.

He'd already gotten a look at their physical appearances back when he'd been looking through the walls of the interrogation rooms, but he hadn't gotten to speak to the two of them, not really, given that Smith had been the one to talk to them. Hell, his grandfather had most likely gotten more time with them than he'd had himself.

Shivansh had gone to stand next to Orion – uh, same age, indeed – and they looked like they were trying to present themselves in between two lurches of the lift, but didn't really know what to ask or say about themselves. They were – with Aldebaran, if Sirius guessed right – the youngest of the lot, not even yet at Hogwarts – and no, Stefania didn't count, she was the only baby amongst a sea of teenagers, of course she was the very youngest.

Orion had had a difficult time grasping what had happened to him and his brother, and Sirius wondered if it was the same for Shivansh and Aldebaran.

Then again, Orion's dad was dead and he didn't remember him and Sirius was alive and also his kind-of-father, so that had to be even more confusing.

The lift stopped at the fourth level and the tall witch made her way outside. Varsha had to take a step back and ended up with her left shoulder in Sirius' stomach.

The lift started back, and Varsha moved again, but this time she was looking her father-who-wasn't right in the eyes.

There was something deeply unsettling with having a fourteen-years-old girl with your eyes staring into your soul while also being ten inches taller than her. Or maybe that had to do with how she was his daughter he'd never met – and who hadn't existed until today.

Sirius felt the incomprehensible urge to stay silent until she broke and spoke first, but he wasn't twelve anymore, so he didn't do that.

"Varsha, right?"

The girl's eyes widened a bit, then she gave him half a smile.

"Yeah, that's me, Dad."

Sirius must have made a face – shock? – because Varsha looked more hesitant, all of a sudden.

"I mean, if I can call you 'Dad'?"

Sirius cleared his throat – a look to the triplets had him notice something that had the general form and size of a dungbomb in Almaric's pocket, and he promised himself to keep an eye on that, too, because Arcturus wouldn't appreciate if it ended in the middle of Black Manor on the first day, and he'd just thought like one of his teachers had to think, back at Hogwarts, hadn't he, and he absolutely wasn't stalling.

"I... You can call me whatever you want, but you have to know, don't you, I'm not quite..."

Varsha's eyes lit up, as if she'd just understood his hesitation, and she already knew the solution to that. Sirius wasn't sure how that could be true – time travel which wasn't because it all relied on possibilities of time and no actual travel, et caetera, he doubted there was a manual to deal with that.

"Oh, that! I know. Shivansh does, too, we're used to, I mean, we have some knowledge about that and the difficulties it brings, Mum had to deal with the same and she told us all about it! I... We'll tell you about it, later, okay?"

And on those mysterious words, the lift stopped, and the doors opened on the Atrium.

In case you were wondering, yes, one of the reasons for this fic is entirely an excuse to write a "next gen" type of fic for each of my AUs, because most of them don't have Sirius' kids being grown-up and all.