Chapter 8: Sirius will explain

Melania Black was reading a book in Black Manor's library when she heard sounds coming from the entrance hall, right under her. Curious, the woman called for the manor' house-elf.

"Sterhn, would you come here?"

The servant appeared with a crack, his eyes searching for his mistress with polite deference.

"What can Sterhn do for Mistress Melania?"

The house-elf was a few years younger than Melania, she believed, and he'd served the Black family since her husband had been a teenager. His loyalty to the main branch was unwavering, which was why he'd been chosen to serve at Black Manor – the Blacks had four House-elves, stretched between the various main properties of the family. Sterhn was for Black Manor in Norfolk, Kreacher for the London house, Chary for la Tour Noire in the middle of the Channel, and Dutty for the Silent Castle in Wiltshire.

Melania herself had married into the main branch, so she wasn't Sterhn's first concern – those were the Lord and his heirs – but he respected her as his master's wife, as the first heir's mother, and never let it get in the way of his service.

"Is Arcturus back? I saw him storm out through the floo when I came down earlier, but he didn't leave a message to explain why."

"Master Arcturus went to the basement, Mistress, and Sterhn does not know why. Sterhn can go and check the entrance hall, if Mistress would like it?"

Melania pursed her lips and shook her head. The floo-connected chimney was in the entrance hall, and if Arcturus had disappeared to the basement and there was now something happening downstairs, it had to mean her husband was fiddling with the wards to let someone in.

"We'll go together. I think we are having guests, Sterhn."

The house-elf looked unsure of what to make of that statement – long-term guests were never unexpected, but family members did tend to storm in and leave as fast as they had come without calling first in the House of Black, Melania had learned. It was very much different from her childhood in the House of Macmillan, where everyone was always polite – and meant it – and never wanted to impose.

The Blacks had a much more dangerous temper than the Macmillans, too.

"Mistress..."

Melania stood up and arranged her robes.

"Come now, Sterhn. You can go first, if you wish to shield me should our guests be irritable."

The house-elf nodded to himself, and looked reassured before leading the way. Melania had never seen the point of being short with a servant, and they generally repaid her with more loyalty than she had ever asked for. Sterhn, for example, seemed to think it was his duty, not only to serve her, but also to protect her life.

Perhaps it was.

Melania followed her husband's house-elf to the ground floor, and was greeted with the sight of three teenagers standing awkwardly in the entrance hall, the chimney still spewing green flames in the background.

Sterhn squinted, as if he could see something she couldn't, and didn't know what to make of it.

Melania, herself, froze.

The truth was, she had a vague feeling of what she should be able to see – but couldn't quite yet – when looking at those children, but the truth of it was escaping her. For now, all she could see were three boys, all around the age to start Hogwarts, all of them vaguely similar even if distinctly different in their looks, looking at her with wide eyes as if they didn't know what to say.

Two of them had darker skin – lightly brown for one, specifically Indian for the other – and the third one was blond. They looked at her, at each other – then one of them, the one with some African descent in him, seemed to realize something, tried to say it, but was interrupted when the chimney flared up again.

Everyone's eyes locked on the green flames, and a handful of seconds later a fourth boy stumbled out, coughing – and his looks were recognizable amongst a thousand for Melania Black.

She'd married a boy who had looked like that when she'd known him, she'd given birth to another boy who'd looked like that at the same age, she'd seen that boy father a son who'd looked exactly like that only seven years ago.

She realized, at the same moment, that two of the first three boys had the usual Black silver eyes.

The most recent addition to their staring contest didn't seem interested in playing that game, though, and blinked at her, recognition in his eyes.

"Great-grandmother Melania!"

Antares Black blinked again – maybe he shouldn't have said that, not first thing, not when his great-grandmother had no idea who he was – and decided it was probably wiser to get away from the chimney, regardless of Melania Black's presence. There were a whole lot more of them who had to come through, and staying right next to the floo seemed like a good idea to get pummeled in by Almaric or Hyades, whoever was next – Da... Sirius had decided to send them by ages, to get the youngest teens out of the way should another unwanted encounter with dubious people happen, but the twelve-year-olds had been reluctant to go and the triplets had decided to be done with it.

Before Antares could say more, Hyades stumbled out too – the triplets weren't used to using the floo, mostly because they had no one to go to back in their time, and Circe, was that a weird sensation.

Antares saw his great-grandmother's eyebrows ratchet up on her forehead, and decided he should maybe say something more before she started asking questions – considering they'd be interrupted each time someone new came in.

His first thought was, of course, his father.

"Sirius will explain, I swear...!"

Almaric appeared in the green flames at that moment, and managed to be slightly more graceful than Antares and Hyades themselves. Antares' nose scrunched up, jealous of his brother's better balance.

Hyades added quietly:

"Dad is coming last, with the baby."

The moment she said that word, the fire flared up again, and the blond girl named Elizabeth – his half-sister, in a way, Antares realized, and that was way weirder than growing up with a father on-the-run-but-really-posing-as-a-muggle-university-professor, their adopted sister Juliet, and their famous cousin Harry – appeared in Black Manor's entrance hall.

Their great-grandmother was looking more and more dumbfounded, and Sterhn the house-elf didn't seem to know what to do about the gaggle of Black children who'd come out of nowhere. The triplets had only come to Black Manor about four times, if Antares remembered right, and none had been quite like what was happening right now.

Elizabeth took a few steps away from the chimney, eyed the whole situation – Melania Black and Sterhn included – and started walking to her younger brother – Aldebaran, Antares believed.

"They convinced Procyon, so we're good."

Just then, the floo let said boy in, his glasses covered in soot. He had a scowl on his face, and Antares couldn't say if it was about having been sent ahead anyway or because of the soot – or because of something else entirely, which would be fair considering they all were in a very, very strange situation and Antares himself was having a hard time understanding that his father wasn't his father yet.

One more look at their great-grandmother had Antares wince and hope they would soon be all there, so that Sirius could come and explain.

Melania Black, herself, was feeling more and more dumbfounded as new teenagers kept appearing from her chimney. They all, she saw now, reminded her of family in one way or another – faces, hair, eyes, sometimes the bearing, but there was always something. And the boy who was a carbon copy of her first grandson had called her great-grandmother, and the girl who looked like Bellatrix had just mentioned her father after the boy had talked about Sirius.

Sirius was nineteen, not yet twenty, and those children were all above ten years old.

Arcturus had changed the wards to let them in, too.

Melania watched as one more child – reserved, black hair and freckles and blue eyes – came in, and went to stand in his own corner of space, away from the others. That one, she thought, that one felt much less at ease than any of the others, and before she knew it Melania was taking cautious steps to join him – not even to ask how or why, but, maybe, just to put a hand on his shoulder, to make sure he wasn't alone.

By the time she'd crossed the distance between them – a time he'd spent looking a bit stunned at her approach, and sufficiently tense for her not to like where this was going, what it implied – another teenage girl had appeared. That one looked a bit Indian, like one of the first boys, and her eyes grew large when she spotted Melania – as if she, too, could recognize her, even though Melania had no idea who the girl was – but after a torn look she hurried to the younger boy with a similar skin tone.

Melania focused back on the blue-eyed teen next to her – as much as she could with another black-haired boy stepping out of her chimney and joining the two blond teens in the group of newcomers.

"Hello."

The boy next to her looked hesitant for a moment.

"...Hi."

"My name is Melania. What's yours, Sweetheart?"

Melania could feel eyes zeroing on the two of them as she spoke, but ignored the stares. It was obvious the boy wasn't at ease and had noticed the other children looking, so she wasn't going to draw more attention to the fact they were all looking at him in particular.

"...I... Altair. I'm Altair."

Melania tried for a smile – maybe it was a bit strained, frankly, but she tried.

Procyon, Altair.

Only two names, for now, but both were stars, and the obvious was making itself more inevitable as time went on – as more teenagers kept coming through the floo. Right now, a girl who looked so much like Sirius – like what Adhara Black, the granddaughter Malenia would never have, would have looked like had she lived – was taking a step away from the floo, immediately followed by another girl the same age with black hair and glasses.

"Alright, then. You don't mind if I stay here with you, until... Until whatever this is is explained?"

All of them, somehow, they were blood, Melania could tell now. She wasn't certain they were Sirius' – how could they be, really, it didn't make any sense, there were too many of them and her grandson was too young to be their father – but they were blood. Arcturus was letting them in because they were blood, and maybe something had happened to their families, what with the war going on, and the Blacks were their least-distant relatives, or...

Anyway, those children were there for a reason.

The boy nodded half-heartedly.

"I don't mind."

He didn't seem to have much else to say, so Melania let the conversation stop there – but she didn't move, and after a moment of pause, she put a hand on his shoulder.

He let her.

Melania and Altair watched as a girl came out of the floo and went to join Procyon and the girl with glasses. She had brown hair like the boy, and freckles like the girl.

Melania wondered why exactly these teenagers seemed to have their own groups while others, like Altair and the girl who looked like Sirius, or the boy of African descent, remained alone. It wasn't just that some were siblings – it was obvious, when you looked at the two Indian-looking teens who stayed together – and the others were just cousins, because they didn't seem to know the others at all. But if they didn't, how had they all ended up here at the same time?

Just next to her, Altair shifted on his feet and caught her attention.

Melania looked back at him, and saw an uncertain look on his face – like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure if he should. If she would care to listen.

"Anything you can tell me, Altair?"

The boy jumped a little – gave her a side-look, then looked back at the girl who'd just arrived.

"That's Marianne, I think. She's Adrienne and Procyon's older sister. I tried to remember everyone when... when Great-grandfather Arcturus presented us all. Because... Because it's easier to speak with someone when you know their name."

Altair didn't say anything about how he still hadn't gone to talk to the others anyway, and Melania didn't comment.

Instead, she used the arrival of yet another girl – dark-haired, blue-eyed, and who stayed on her own too – to keep the boy talking. After all, if he'd made the effort to remember everyone, Melania might as well give him an opportunity to use it.

"And her, do you know who she is?"

"Oh, that's Dana! She's Fania's older sister, but Fania is still a baby, so Dad will take her with him through the floo. Because..."

He stopped there, looking embarrassed as he'd most likely been about to say something quite obvious. Of course a baby couldn't take the floo by herself. Melania chuckled.

"Dana looks about sixteen... Fifteen years is a big age gap between siblings."

Altair nodded and started tugging on his sleeves.

"That's what Adrienne said too, when we were waiting for Dad to finish with Harfang and Orion, but Dana just shrugged and said her father had been away a long time. I mean, I think I know what she means, because Dad was..."

Altair seemed to think better of whatever he had been about to say, and Melania let him. She'd gotten him to speak, she was content enough with that – though, of course, she couldn't help but wonder.

More than the boy's sudden silence, it was the name of one of the boys that got Melania's eyebrows rising up – Orion was her son, but she had no doubt it wasn't him Altair was talking about right now. Like she hadn't said anything about whatever Altair had been implying about his own father, she also didn't comment on the absence of Dana's father – she could make a lot of assumptions on the matter, but honestly couldn't pretend she had any true idea of what had led to Dana's situation.

The chimney flared up again into green flames, and another boy with darker skin and kinky hair stepped out. Almost immediately, he was dragged away from the chimney by the younger boy of African descent who'd gotten in the entrance hall even before Melania and Sterhn came down.

Altair frowned next to her.

"I'm not sure which one of them is Orion, and which one is Harfang, but they're brothers."

Then the teenager looked back at the chimney, looking more expectant than before, almost in a hurry for whoever came next – and dear, how many children was it, now? More than a dozen, that was for sure, and Melania still wasn't certain what she was supposed to think of all this, but it didn't seem to be ending.

"I think there's only Lamia left, now. She's the oldest, and after her it will be Dad with Fania."

Melania almost asked who Altair meant by "Dad", but bit her tongue and didn't. Even if everything pointed to Sirius – even if none of it made any sense – she'd know soon enough, if the teenager was right and his father was to be next. Even if it didn't happen that way, then she could still ask Arcturus, when he'd come up from the basement. Her husband certainly hadn't decided to go and change the manor's wards without a very good reason.

The Blacks were known for being a paranoid bunch, but even Melania – as a Macmillan by birth, a trusting Noble House with a hufflepuff dominant – wouldn't let go of the security provided by family wards just to let unknown children in. Changing the floo wards wasn't the same as just inviting someone in – it meant letting them have unrestricted access to their fireplaces, and the times being what they were, that was a very bad idea.

So Melania and Altair simply watched as one last girl – very reminiscent of Sirius, again, in her looks – appeared in the entrance hall, blinked at everyone present, then headed for the two blond kids and their black-haired older brother – if Melania was understanding the patterns right. A look around told the old witch that Altair and the other girl who looked just like Sirius were the only ones without siblings – since apparently Dana with the ice-blue eyes was the older sister of a baby who had yet to come through.

If Altair was right, that meant the next one through would be his father himself, with the baby in a bubble charm – you didn't take babies through the floo without protection, ever.

And indeed, Melania's oldest grandson stepped out of green flames only moments later.

Sirius, as it was, had a baby in his arms. A shimmering silver bubble had accumulated the soot from the chimney around the baby, without letting her breathe any of it in, and when the bubble popped out of existence, the soot fell right on Sirius like a dog shaking off black rivulets of soot, leaving a perfectly clean baby in the arms of a darkened wizard in grey robes with crimson borders – the auror trainee uniform, which always made Melania both proud of her grandson and terribly worried.

For all his other qualities, Sirius had always given his all towards what he thought to be right, and that also meant endangering his life rather than backing down. Oh, her grandson could and would manipulate his way into getting what he wanted – but sometimes what he wanted was something that could only be achieved with him on the front lines.

Melania looked at Altair one last time – for now.

"I'll go and talk to Sirius, alright?"

And the boy – the boy who looked about twelve, the boy who had kept calling her grandson "Dad", the boy who for all intent and purpose seemed to be her great-grandson – nodded hesitantly, and tugged on his sleeves a bit more.

Melania took a deep breath, and turned back towards Sirius.

The young man – not even twenty years old, what was this, again? – noticed her almost immediately, and a look of relief crossed his handsome – but covered in black traces – face.

"Grandmother!"

Melania crossed the distance between them, her wand already out and muttering a cleaning charm to take care of the soot all over him. Most wizarding clothes had charms to prevent extreme sooting, but of course robes given by the Ministry of Magic had only the least expensive charms.

"Sirius. Not that I dislike these children, but could you please explain what is going on?"

Her grandson didn't hide a wince, and the baby in his arms – Fania, she believed – started blabbering at them. Sirius looked dumbfounded for a moment, and thoroughly distracted, so Melania took the small girl into her own arms and started rocking her. She'd had two children, and two grandchildren, she knew how to take care of a distracting child – and Sirius obviously didn't.

Sirius blinked, looked around – eighteen, that was seventeen teenagers and a baby, so eighteen – and finally his eyes landed back on his grandmother.

"I... Maybe Grandfather could explain..."

"He's still in the basement. And you are the one they keep calling 'Dad'."

"I am?"

"Yes."

A look at his grandmother told Sirius that indeed, some of the kids had let it slip. And Melania Black would like an explanation, very much.

Okay. Just a moment. He was going to have to explain this several times, again, and maybe they really should think on what to tell the press, at least that way he wouldn't have to say it again and again and again for a few years.

Still, family was family, so, personal explanation.

"I got knocked out with an experimental machine when Death Eaters attacked. Then the children all appeared out of thin air, if Moody and Smith are to be believed. We've questioned them, and they're all mine. Somehow. In various possibilities in time. They probably aren't going to go back to where they came from, so, you know. I've gotten a dozen and a half surprise children."

To her credit, his grandmother barely blinked – she was probably thinking the how and the why weren't the most important things right now – when she pointed out:

"The oldest looks barely not of age."

"Oh, Lamia is seventeen. She's starting her seventh year at Hogwarts this fall."

"She's two years younger than you."

"Exactly."

Melania Black pinched the bridge of her nose, and turned to Sterhn, the manor's house-elf.

"Well, then. Sterhn, prepare the family bedrooms, would you?"