Chapter 4: Disheartening explanations

Sirius' eyes fell on the two brothers – darker skin than his own, obviously, but not so dark all things considered, and hair that fell just short of being considered dark brown instead of black, but, most importantly, the younger kid's silver eyes stuck on Sirius, as if unable to believe his presence.

For a moment, he didn't know what to say.

So he went with the ever-popular – if maybe not quite appropriate with the situation – "Hi."

The older boy kept a hand on his younger brother – and Sirius couldn't help but wonder, with the boy's face, so similar to his own except in shades, if it was possible he hadn't recognized him, perhaps. If neither of the boys really knew why they were here, stuck in an interrogation room, and why exactly someone barely older than them, with such a familiar face, had been sent to see them.

It seemed obvious, of course, that most of the displaced children would recognize him easily. He was their father, so they had to know him.

But what if they didn't?

What if the hesitation he could see in their movements wasn't because of a lack of age in his traits, but rather a complete absence of their father?

Sirius was an auror – in training, potentially full-fledged at some point in his future and their pasts – and life could be complicated. Who said...

The older boy glanced at the door behind Sirius, at his brother, and finally back at Sirius himself.

"Orion, can you..."

He seemed to take a moment to think – quite understandingly unsure of what to do in this situation – and didn't finish his sentence.

Sirius, of course, noted his father's first name, and wondered how exactly he'd ended up calling a son of his after his dad. His relationship with Orion Black wasn't quite as strained as his relationship with Walburga Black, they even talked a bit when they crossed paths – about thrice a year, perhaps – even if the tone was always stilted, as if they didn't really know what to say to each other, but he'd sooner give a child Regulus' name than his father's.

Then again, if he was understanding this right, "Orion" was the younger boy, which still left his older brother for Regulus. Either way, Sirius wasn't certain of how that could have come to be.

Steeling himself for potentially disappointing answers – such as, the boys' father was a him who never left home and was somehow still on family terms with the others, despite everything else going on – or really disheartening explanations – that him had never left home, because things weren't as fucked up in their world, maybe Voldepants didn't even exist, and then how the hell would he explain the whole situation here to the two children? – Sirius decided to spark the conversation back into existence.

The Ministry did need answers – and, tangentially, he personally did too, but that could wait.

"Alright. Your names?"

The younger kid volunteered the information before his brother could say anything about it – and Sirius really didn't like the look in his silver eyes, it reeked of hope and he had no idea what to make of it.

"He's Harfang, Harfang Regulus Black! And I'm Orion!"

It looked like he'd expected the words to mean something to Sirius – it was obvious, really, the boy thought he'd recognize the names, and for all that he did, it was probably not the way the child expected him to – and all Sirius could think of was that indeed, he'd gifted the two boys with first his brother's name, then his father. He still wasn't sure what to make of it.

Harfang – the older brother – sighed, and reassured his grip on Orion's shoulder.

"He means he's Orion James Black."

Oh.

Considering Sirius had a thing against giving children other people's first names unless their namesakes were dead, that did not bode well – to put it simply, he didn't like calling a name and having two people answering because you'd named one after the other, that could get messy rather fast. Admittedly, he hadn't ever thought about second names, since you hardly called those out on their own and so generally avoided the confusion, but still.

Dad was definitely dead by the time Orion-The-Kid came along, and perhaps Regulus and James too. Sirius couldn't say he liked the thought, even if his father's potential demise wasn't quite as gut-wrenching a thought as Regulus' – his brother, the child who'd trailed after him until he didn't anymore, the boy who wouldn't listen to him – or James' – the one who'd been there when things had gotten out of hand at home, the friend who had taken in him and shared his parents with him when he'd walked away from Grimmauld Place.

And while Sirius was starting his second existential crisis of the day, Harfang and Orion were still there.

And Harfang, just like his father-who-wasn't, had noticed – had feared – the look in his brother's eyes.

Sirius snapped back to reality – and the fifty-seven shades of What? it had become since he'd been knocked out by that machine – the moment he heard the words:

"That's... That's not Dad, Orion. Not really. I'm not sure... I mean, look at him. He's wearing auror trainee robes. Dad never was an auror."

Never was.

Well. That explained it, then – or part of it, at least.

Dad never was an auror. Their Sirius was very much dead.

And whatever else that version of him had been – how had he died? He'd obviously lived long enough to have two children, with about three years between them, and if he wasn't an auror, if Orion looked like that, like he'd never met his father... – Orion really wanted Sirius to be him.

But he wasn't.

And he would never be, if their father had never been part of the Auror Office, and Sirius already was. It made him question it all – when had their timeline changed? 1978, before he'd joined?

Years before that?

Dana had asked him, hadn't she, if he'd met her mother a few months ago? She hadn't looked surprised at the trainee robes, but her father had gone to Italy four months ago, while Sirius hadn't. The lead he could have followed to Turino had been debunked before he'd left, and in the end, he'd never met Dana and Stefania's mother.

So Sirius decided to take a step – or five, really – and sit down next to Harfang and Orion at the table.

"Your brother is right, I'm afraid. I... I don't really know how to explain it to you, Orion, but I'm not actually your father, not like your mother knew him."

Well, that helped a lot. Good, be as confusing as possible for the – what? Eleven-years-old boy? Maybe Harfang could understand it, he looked around sixteen, but Orion was too young to understand right away. Sirius wasn't even certain he'd started Hogwarts yet, so complex, post-N.E.W.T.s magic? The situation in itself?

Alright, let's try again.

"You were... somewhere else, before you and your brother got dumped into the Ministry, weren't you?"

Orion sniffed – oh Merlin, were those tears threatening to come up, was it because Sirius had told him he wasn't his father, what was he supposed to do, lie? – and nodded.

Harfang helpfully supplied more details.

"Mom brought us to Diagon Alley for school supplies. Orion had his birthday two weeks ago."

The dreaded mother whom he shall not question, and who was most certainly Arella Selwyn – but he wasn't questioning it, so, shhh...

"Alright, so, Diagon Alley. And then, all of a sudden, you were at the Ministry, and two Aurors were asking you to follow them and finally they left you here?"

"Ye... yes..."

Sirius pointed at himself, before doing a large gesture englobing the whole room – and, technically, everything outside of it, too.

"This is not your world. I had an accident with a magical machine, and it pulled out potential children I could have had, in another life, into my reality. I'm not... I'm not your father, even if I am Sirius Orion Black, because it's 1979, I'm not yet twenty years old, and there are probably a few more divergences between your timeline and mine than me being an auror in training."

Harfang's mouth was becoming more of a grimace as Sirius spoke, and Orion didn't look like he really understood it all, which was probably normal for an eleven-years-old boy who hadn't even started Hogwarts yet and definitely hadn't learned anything about Time magic.

Still, Orion seemed to understand more than enough to know that things weren't good, and Harfang secured his younger brother in a loose hug as the boy seemed to shrink on himself.

"You're... You're not Dad."

Sirius winced, and shook his head.

"Not quite, no. I mean, by blood, yes, and I swear I'll take care of you if you two are stuck here, in this world, and maybe, maybe we could become family nonetheless, but I'm not the Sirius Orion Black who knew your mother, who played a role in your births, no."

A quick look at Harfang, and Sirius decided it might be the moment to stop with that line of thought. The teenager probably knew more about how much his brother could take right now than Sirius' impressions could tell him.

So Orion just stayed inside his brother's hug, and looked sadly – eyes shining with unshed tears – somewhere behind his father-who-wasn't.

"I thought... I wanted to meet Dad."

And then he looked down, and Sirius didn't know what got him, but he reached out, and put a hand on Orion's left wrist. The kid's eyes fixed themselves on his fingers – the skin contrast wasn't quite as sharp as he'd expected, but Sirius was still very pale, and Orion's skin looked almost golden brown... Oh dear, he spent too much time with Lily and her friends if he could now tell that. If he let it go on, he'd comment on Harfang's slightly darker, warm almond skin – okay, stop.

"Sorry, kid, it's just me."

Orion sniffed a bit, but nodded, and wiped off the small tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

Then Sirius winced.

Again.

"Well. Me, your great-grandfather Arcturus who decided to house us all at Black Manor, the sixteen other children I've somehow acquired today, Juliet whom I was planning to adopt anyway, and hopefully not the rest of the family, at least not anytime soon."

There was no way Mother and Dad would keep away from that particular development, not with the chance that some of the kids might be purebloods despite all – he thought Salvatore might be an old Italian name, so perhaps Dana and Fania; definitely not Nashira, if only because she came from another world and therefore her mother could not be a pureblooded witch; if he was right about Harfang and James, they were old blood, but still halfblooded; the others, he didn't know yet, and frankly, it wasn't that important. So yes, Orion and Walburga Black would intervene, at some point, if only because of his grandfather's support, and that even if Dear Mother had disowned him as her son – Dad was a more complex matter, again.

Sirius tried a smile, banishing any thought of Walburga Black from the present moment, and choosing to rather focus on the two children – amongst many others – he'd been just – dubiously – gifted with.

"If you two don't mind, the Ministry needs a Statement of Existence for each of you, and then we'll go and meet the others, okay?"

Harfang spared a glance at his younger brother, then steeled himself and nodded. It was quite obvious the teenager would take charge for both of them, here, even if Orion peered curiously at the forms as they started his.

Filling up the forms told Sirius that indeed, a version of him had gone and somehow married Arella Selwyn, and from the looks he got from Harfang, he also deduced there was a lot more to the story than just meeting her one day and deciding he fancied the homeschooled witch – but that was a story for another day. For now, they were trying to finish up with the formal necessities of this peculiar situation, so that Sirius and the kids could leave for Black Manor with the Lord of their House, and, hopefully, try and settle the children into this weird new life they'd just been catapulted into.

Then he'd need to go and get Juliet back from her caregiver.

He'd need to explain the situation to her, too, and that was going to be even more complicated than with Orion, because Juliet was five and not at all used to the wide variety of incidents magic could bring on – and even by that standard, this was highly unusual.

Sirius and Arcturus would probably end the day by passive-aggressively staring at each other, while trying to come to a compromise as to what to do with his children-who-weren't-quite. They'd have to contact Dumbledore about Hogwarts – a good thing this happened during summer, truly, and now he was wondering about the children's Houses... Arrange a shopping trip to get them all more clothes – there it was a good thing, being as rich as they were. Decide what exactly they'd tell the rest of the world – and, more importantly, Sirius' unpleasant side of the family, which, considering he was a Black by both parents, meant the entire family. Figure out how he'd balance taking care of them and working for the Auror Office – and the Order, but he wasn't going to talk about that with his grandfather of all people.

Maybe he should pay – what was her name, already? – right, Cedrella Weasley a visit. Disowned or not, she was a first cousin – twice removed – and more importantly, she was used to big families on both sides. Her father – also named Arcturus Black, because recycling names was a symbol of House pride or something – had four siblings, amongst which two of Sirius' great-grandfathers, and while she herself had only three sons – Aelus, Alasdair and Arthur, if he recalled right – the rest of the family was extensive. Maybe she'd be able to tell him... something, at least.

Unless Arcturus intended to deal with the nineteen children on a daily basis, he could go and complain as much as he wanted about going to see his disowned cousin, Sirius would still do it.

Because he was the one who landed a dozen and a half surprise scions, and he'd take all the help he could get.

Harfang and Orion signed the Statements, Sirius gave them his energy squares – he'd need to stock up, tomorrow – and they all got up to leave the interrogation room.

"Ready to meet the others?"

Probably not, all things considered, but they still had to. If only because the world did not wait for you to be ready, and it was that or staying here.

Harfang pursed his lips, but nodded, while Orion looked curious – they'd gotten a look at the other children, of course, while Sirius had been... unavailable, but he didn't know how much they'd guessed back then. The older boy loosened his grip on Orion, and let him walk to the door all on his own while Sirius gathered up the two Statements of Existence.

Sirius was only vaguely surprised to see him hovering in his back when he turned around.

Before he could ask what it was about, the teenager quietly added:

"I... I was four when Dad died. Orion mostly doesn't remember him."

Then Harfang cut himself off, looking unsure of what more to say – maybe, to be careful with his brother, not to give him false hope; or maybe, to please try and understand. There were so many things to take into account, and Sirius would try to do the right thing, of course – but knowing what that was wasn't so easy, and perhaps he'd try and fail, in the end.

It was going to be difficult, he thought, for all of them. It wasn't only that he wasn't quite their father – no matter the version of him they'd known as such – but also that their mothers weren't here, and they couldn't exactly go to them and tell them they were their children. Maybe in time, but not right away, not when they might not believe it, not when it was so dangerous.

That was another decision to make, and, more importantly, to try and explain to those lost children. The older ones might get it, but the youngest of the lot?

Harfang and Sirius stayed there, staring awkwardly at each other, for a few more seconds, before Orion's voice cut in, asking why they were waiting.

So their father-who-wasn't took it upon himself, and walked to the younger boy, to the door – he almost ruffled Orion's curly hair, but stopped himself, unsure of what was appropriate here.

"Alright. Don't be scared of the stern old man, he doesn't bite. It's Arcturus, my grandfather. Oh, and don't believe everything he says, I'm a perfectly reasonable grandson."

On those words, Sirius pushed the door open.

Harfang and Orion were thus greeted back by a picture of all the children, again, with Arcturus in the middle holding Stefania, while James and Smith were standing on the side, looking a bit worried about it all, if the glance his best friend sent him said any of it.

Sirius' grandfather raised an eyebrow as his grandson handed off the last Statements of Existence to the Unspeakable who'd been monitoring the whole situation in silence – and hungry curiosity.

"Well, here comes the prodigal father. Could you tell us those two's names?"

Sirius marked a pause, aware of the implications of such a revelation – he'd called the youngest by his father's name, for Godric's sake – but it wasn't as if Arcturus wouldn't know it soon enough. They were going to live with him, after all.

A deep breath, and.

"Harfang and Orion, meet Arcturus Black. He's the Lord of the House of Black."

At the names, Arcturus squinted a bit. His eyes slid off Sirius and onto the boys as he took them in.

"Hum. Some sort of familial nostalgia, perhaps."

From the corner of his eye, Sirius caught a weird look on James' face, and he could only guess what was going through his best friend's mind. Merlin knew what was rampaging in his own, at this point.

"But no matter. You've missed the introduction to some of the others, too. The triplets are Antares, Hyades and Almaric..."

Each of the kids waved awkwardly at the mention of their names – mini-Sirius was Antares, the girl who looked a lot like Bellatrix was Hyades, and the brown-haired boy was Almaric.

"This is Lamia, and so far she sounds a lot like you..."

The oldest girl, who didn't only sound like him, with her smirk and her looks.

"And her brothers, Aldebaran and Alastor..."

Arcturus frowned slightly at that, and Sirius' own smirk twitched a bit, even if he wasn't surprised he'd have the guts to name a child of his after Alastor Moody of all people, as his eyes fell on the dark-haired, green-eyed teen. Aldebaran, on the other hand, was the innocent blond one, about as young as Orion, and holding his other sister's hand.

"And her sister Elizabeth, very well-spoken, I like her already."

The girl, barely older than Aldebaran, looked like Sirius with a wavy blond wig on, and raised an amused eyebrow at her great-grandfather's words. He knew that look – Andromeda did it, Sirius did it too but no one talked about that – and it was distinctly slytherin.

Not that Sirius himself could talk.

That left... The well-behaved three, two of whom with glasses. Those who did look like children of his, and yet not. Sirius hadn't forgotten the weird feeling he'd gotten, the first time he'd seen them behind the see-through walls.

Something weird was going on here – on top of everything else – and he had no idea what it was.

"And to finish with, we have Marianne, Adrienne and Procyon."

Uh. French first names for the girls. Was their mother French? Maybe. After all, Sirius did speak French – and Russian, but that was neither here nor there.

Procyon, obviously, had gotten the star-naming tradition.

None of all this stopped him from feeling very, very weird. And from the slightly disturbed – though disguised – look on their faces, the three teenagers knew it too.

But Sirius wasn't going to address it, not yet. There was a lot going on, and if they could just deal with it long enough to go home...

Well, to Black Manor. Not quite home, yet. Black Manor was the place where Sirius and Regulus used to go for a few days at a time, if Grandfather was in the mood or there was a family reunion with absolutely everyone – who wasn't officially disowned, of course. If anything, Grimmauld Place was home, if a place with twice as many bad memories as good memories could be counted as such.

Before Sirius could answer – or anything of the sort, he wasn't quite sure yet what – James and Smith shared a look, their eyes wandering to the Statements forms.

"Sirius. A word, before you lot go, please."