There were many things James had learned over the years to expect when Sirius came tumbling through his Floo. Anything from bright eyes and a new adventure to beaten half dead at the hands of his family, James had seen the whole range.
A baby was never in that range.
And yet there Sirius stood, eyes sparking with a hint of grief, holding tight to a yowling bundle of blankets.
"Sirius, mate," James started slowly, sharing an incredulous look with Lily. "Where did you get the baby?"
"She's mine," Sirius muttered. A sharp, cutoff, "wha-" came from behind James. Sirius shook his head, correcting himself. "Well, technically she's Reggie's? She's my niece but now she's my daughter I guess, because Regulus is dead, and he named me as her guardian, and the DMCW employee just left, and now I have a baby, and you have to help me, Lily! I don't know anything about children, I can't be a dad!"
Sirius swayed dangerously and James dove forward to catch him and guide him down to the couch. Lily gently took the baby from him and rocked her until the crying stopped.
"I don't think she liked the floo very much, Padfoot," she informed him. He just nodded. Lily set the baby down on the floor in front of the men and straightened up, grabbing her coat. "I'm going to run out to the store and pick up some baby things for you, alright, Sirius?"
He just nodded, eyes locked on the child. James shared a concerned look with Lily before the door shut behind her and he was left alone with Sirius and a baby(!).
"What's her name, then?"
"Achilles." James tried (and failed) not to make a face. Sirius cracked a small smile. "I know. Pretentious. Middle name's Adhara, after the second brightest star in Canis Majoris."
James blinked. "Like… the constellation your name is from?"
"Yeah, exactly like that. Even the name Achilles, Homer used the star Sirius to describe Achilles in the Iliad." Sirius finally met James' eyes. "Reggie's dead, Prongs."
"I'm so sorry, Pads."
"He's dead, and the last thing I ever said to him, months ago, was that he wasn't my family, and still he named his daughter after me and named me her guardian in his will." Sirius took a deep breath. "I don't understand."
"We'll probably never really know why," James said practically. "Regulus must have had trust in you, though. He had to know that you'd raise Achilles — we're not going to call her that all the time, are we? — anyway, he knew you'd raise Achilles better than either of you were raised. I can't imagine he'd want your mother to raise her, can you imagine?"
Sirius scoffed, a harsh, grating noise that had Achilles startling with wide grey eyes. "Please. Regulus was Mother's favorite, adored child, and he was her perfect heir. Why wouldn't he want his daughter to be raised by the woman who raised him?"
James shifted uncomfortably and sighed. It was never easy bringing up how the Black brothers were raised, but… "It can't have been any easier for him than it was for you," James said finally, watching Achilles wriggle around on the floor. Sirius glared and opened his mouth furiously, and James hurried to continue. "In a different way entirely! I just mean, Walburga and Orion might not have tortured him the way they did you." Let it be said that James didn't believe for one second that Walburga Black didn't torture her younger son — he rather thought that she just didn't do it where Sirius could see, and Sirius refused to even consider the possibility most days. James took a deep breath and continued, "That doesn't mean he had it any easier. Imagine having the full weight of Walburga's adoration —" the word came out twisted and mocking "— not to mention the pressure she put on you two to be the perfect pure blooded heirs." James shrugged. "I know you hate to hear it, but I truly don't believe Regulus would have joined up if he didn't feel it was his only option. Given the way he was raised and the way he watched you be raised… it's not really surprising that he might want better for his own child."
Sirius didn't say anything, simply scooping up Achilles and holding her close. "You're never going to know what an Unforgivable feels like, little star, not if I have anything to say about it."
~~~
Sirius had heard Effie Potter say once that loving James was terrifying — like having her heart walking around outside her body, unable to ever keep it entirely safe. At the time he hadn't understood that at all — how could it ever be possible to love someone that much, to fear for someone like that? He had been 13, and James had been his whole world, he loved James more than he'd ever loved anyone before, but he couldn't wrap his mind around the concept of ever giving so much of your heart and soul to another person.
Sirius is twenty now, and he gets it. Having a child is terrifying — Sirius often thinks that he should not have been left solely responsible for a child. Addie (because Achilles was too pretentious of a name to keep using for a baby, and Adhara was only slightly better, but at least it was easily shortened) had lived with Sirius for four months now, and Sirius had felt his lifespan shortening multiple times in that time. She'd learned to crawl, and regularly tried — and failed — to go up the stairs at James and Lily's house in Godric's Hollow.
He dreaded the day Lily gave birth and Addie gained a partner in chaos.
Sirius truly had no idea how he'd do this without Lily and James. James had lent Sirius all the parenting books he'd impulsively bought the second he learned of Lily's pregnancy, Lily had been a godsend in knowing what babies needed (apparently she used to babysit the neighbors in the summers so that she'd have pocket money), and both Potters were more than willing to watch Addie when Sirius couldn't ("It'll be like a practice run," James had said cheerfully the first time).
Sirius had written a letter to Remus, away on a mission for Dumbledore, only vaguely alluding to his new parent status. Remus hadn't written back. Sirius hadn't really expected an answer, honestly. It still hurt.
Two owls swooped in through his window — one bearing the Daily Prophet, the other an envelope with his cousin Narcissa's handwriting.
Sirius opened the paper first. There splashed across the front page was a glaring headline: SCION OF THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK PROCLAIMED DEAD AT EIGHTEEN. Below that, Regulus' carefully blank face stared up at him. Sirius recognized the picture — from the Ministry Summer Gala just that past June. His parents had been in the photo too, and Walburga had sent him a photo to accompany the letter lambasting him for being a disappointment and praising Regulus for being such a good son.
Sirius had thrown the photo out with the letter.
He regretted that now. With a glance over at Addie, snoozing away in her crib, he sighed and picked up his wand, carefully casting a cutting charm around the article. He cast a stasis charm on the scrap of paper and got up to find a box to keep it in. At some point, he'd go to Grimmauld and ransack Reggie's room for keepsakes for Addie.
He picked up the letter from his cousin next. His name was swirled elegantly on the back, envelope sealed with silver wax pressed with the Malfoy crest. Sirius broke it open and scanned the parchment inside.
Narcissa sent her condolences, and the details for Reggie's funeral that was being held that afternoon. Sirius scoffed and tossed it aside, then stopped.
Didn't he at least owe it to Adhara to find out why her father had died? Didn't he owe it to himself to say goodbye to his brother, despite all of their differences, and let him know wherever he was that his daughter would be okay?
Merlin, fatherhood was turning him into a sap.
~~~
Two hours and a quick stop at Potter Cottage later, and Sirius stood in front of Cŵn Du, the sprawling castle estate that was the ancestral seat of the House Black.
He was just outside the wards. One step forward and he'd be through them, as safe as magic could make him — or violently ejected as all without Black blood were. He didn't really know — he hadn't been back to Cŵn Du since he was eleven and leaving to get on the Hogwarts express for the first time. After that, all his holidays had been spent cooped up in Grimmauld Place, all the better to not "shame the family any further"by daring to be Gryffindor on Black lands; then he'd run away to the Potters and had been effectively disowned.
And therein lay the problem. Sirius had no idea if he'd been officially disowned, if his Grandfather Arcturus had gone ahead and completed the ritual disowning to cast him out of the family.
Sirius pulled up his Gryffindor courage and stepped over the ward-line. Warmth, bordering on too hot, rushed along his veins and wrapped around his core like an old friend, before the magic of the wards accepted him and was gone. The sudden there and gone influx of old magics left him feeling a bit lightheaded. He smiled.
He hadn't been ritually disowned after all.
The doors of Cŵn Du were heavy dark oak, but they swung open easily as Sirius gently pushed. The entrance hall hadn't changed in the years since he'd been there — still all cold, silver-threaded black marble.
His footsteps echoed as he made his way out to the family cemetery. It would be a beautiful place in any other circumstance. Willow trees with low, sweeping branches lined the perimeter, brushing the tops of gravestones and covering benches in dappled sunlight. White asphodel blooms were planted around every headstone, and white lilies lined the pebbled walkway that twisted through the cemetery.
A portrait of Regulus had been set on a pedestal over a new headstone, draped in green and black silks. A bouquet of dark, crimson red roses sat in front of the portrait, tied in twine. Sirius stared unseeingly at the blank expression his brother wore and tried to imagine him among the cold silent Portrait Hall, tried to imagine that indifferent expression on Achilles' face. He couldn't.
The entire Black family — what was left anyhow — had gathered loosely around the grave. It was a depressingly small turnout. Sirius sat on a bench at the edge of the crowd, watching all the relatives he hadn't seen in years. Grandfather Arcturus was up front talking to Walburga and Orion, and there was Aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus right next to them, pretending they weren't ready to swoop in and claim the Heirship now that Reggie was dead and Sirius persona non grata. Sirius scoffed and looked past them.
Great Aunt Lucretia was standing over Grandmother Melania's grave and crying silently, and comforting her was Great Uncle Ignatius. The last time Sirius had seen them was at Fabian and Gideon's funeral. They seemed to have aged fifty years in the month since then, and Sirius couldn't imagine how they were feeling (he'd heard a few days ago that Molly Weasley, the last of the Prewett children, was refusing to let her aunt and uncle see her children, despite the fact that they'd raised her, and that her second son, Charles, was Heir Prewett). Narcissa had come alone, looking irritated at having to stand next to Bellatrix.
And that was it. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, more graves than living. Only ten of them left.
A Healer dressed in white robes — the color of the death attendants — stepped up to the front of the group.
"We are gathered here to mark the passage of Regulus Arcturus Black, Scion of House Black, as he steps back into Lady Magic's arms and rejoins his ancestors in the realms of Lord Death."
Walburga and Orion stepped to the front and began to speak. Sirius half-listened to see if they mentioned how Regulus had died. When it wasn't brought up, Sirius tuned out — he didn't really want to hear more about how Regulus was the perfect son. When they'd finished, the Healer waved his wand in a complicated fashion and the bouquet of roses turned into eighteen ghost butterflies (a spell only the death attendants knew) — one for every year Regulus had lived.
"May his soul find peace and comfort in the afterlife," the Healer said as the butterflies dissipated. "Merry part and blessed be, Regulus Arcturus Black."
There was a murmur as they all repeated the final farewell, and then Great Aunt Lucretia and Great Uncle Ignatius said their goodbyes and left, while everyone else made their way inside. Sirius hung back, and when he was alone in the cemetery, he stepped up to Regulus' portrait.
"I just want you to know," he started in a hoarse whisper, "that I'm gojng to take care of her. You don't have to worry, okay, I'll give her the best life I can."
The portrait didn't respond. Regulus had died too young to imprint his memories and personality onto canvas.
"You came after all," a low voice said smoothly. Sirius willed his body not to jump. Narcissa swept up to him. "I had been beginning to wonder if you would." She extended a hand and he leaned to kiss the back of it. "Grandfather Arcturus will be glad to see you, I'm sure. And I must of course offer my condolences for your loss."
"Regulus and I weren't exactly close," Sirius replied. Narcissa gave him a look that Sirius couldn't quite place — an odd mix of condescension, pity and exasperation.
"That does not mean you don't grieve for him."
He didn't answer. Narcissa didn't continue.
She led him inside to the large drawing room. A house-elf had moved the portrait in from the cemetery and it now sat over the mantle. Sirius couldn't look at it anymore. Instead he looked around the room. The seating had all been arranged to face the portrait, and his parents sat on either side of the painting facing everyone else. Aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus conversed softly in their seats, Bellatrix lounging on a couch next to them. The room went quiet as Sirius followed Narcissa in. Sirius had a moment to fully regret his decision before his family noticed him.
"How dare you show up here," his mother hissed from her seat near the fire. A glass of dark red wine dangled from her fingers. Her eyes held nothing but contempt. "Haven't you done enough?" For one terrible moment , Sirius wondered if she knew about Achilles, then Walburga continued, "How dare you disrespect my son by showing your face at his funeral, after everything you've disgraced us with!"
Sirius swallowed. "Regulus was my brother. I have just as much right to be here as you."
"That's not what I heard," Bellatrix singsonged. "I heard that you told dear dead Regulus that he was 'no brother of yours'." She giggled, staring at him wide eyed. "I suppose you've come to take it back?"
"I've come to pay my respects and say goodbye, Bellatrix," Sirius snapped. "Regulus already knows — knew — I regret saying that." At least he hoped he did. He turned a sneer on his parents. "And the only disgraceful ones here are you. How long did it take after I left for you to turn your wands on him?"
"Leave! You don't belong here, you ungrateful little brat!" Walburga lurched to her feet, wine glass shattering at her feet as she drew her wand. Absently, Sirius noted that the wine looked remarkably like the blood staining the carpet the night he left Grimmauld. He drew his own wand.
"Enough."
Everyone froze.
Arcturus, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, sat in a plush armchair like it was a throne. His voice cut through the tension like a whip.
"Orion, Walburga, the loss of a son of our family is regrettable and we are all with you in your grief," Arcturus said. He held up a hand when Walburga opened her mouth to speak. "That does not excuse you trying to exclude Sirius. If you would like to dictate who is allowed to grieve young Regulus, you may do so at your own home, but you will not do so under my roof."
With a disgusted sniff and a glare at Sirius, Walburga dragged Orion through the floo. Cygnus and Druella made polite excuses without looking at Sirius and quickly left as well, Bellatrix in tow.
Arcturus sighed. "Allowing my son to be married off to that harpy of a woman would be my greatest regret if it had not given me you and your brother."Sirius gaped. "Oh, close your mouth, boy. You are my heir, have some decorum."
"…I thought I'd been disowned."
"Don't be daft, boy, if I'd disowned you, you would have never even found this place, and I dare say you'd have felt it!"
Narcissa sighed from her seat next to Sirius. "Haven't you ever talked to Andromeda about this?"
Sirius shook his head. "Andi doesn't talk to me. I tried sending her a letter when I moved in with James but she returned it unopened. She wants nothing to do with anyone who bears the Black name."
"A damn shame, that," Arcturus grumbled, standing. "This family is already too small as it is. Now, let's move this into the study, shall we? We have things to discuss. Mipsy!" A little house elf wearing a tea towel dress popped in. "Hang my grandson's portrait in the Portrait Hall."
"Yes, Master Lord Black sir."
Sirius watched the elf levitate the portrait down the hall as the trio of wixen entered the study. "I'm surprised it took so long to have the funeral."
Two pairs of confused grey eyes looked at him.
"What do you mean?" Narcissa said. "It took only a week to get the portrait made and inform the papers."
Sirius stared. "Regulus died four months ago."
"What?"
"A ministry official showed up at my flat and informed me of his death," Sirius frowned. "You only found out a week ago? I just assumed no one from the family told me because I was disowned."
"Sit down." Arcturus sat behind his desk and waited until both Narcissa and Sirius were seated before speaking. "The subject of when Regulus died can wait. We have more pressing issues. Sirius."
"Yes, Grandfather?"
"You are my Heir, and I intend to pass the lordship on to you upon your 21st birthday."
"What?"
"I am old, boy," Arcturus sighed. "Politics is a young man's game. It is time for me to pass on the mantle so that I can spend my remaining years with what is left of my family."
Sirius could only nod mutely at that.
"Which brings me to the next order of business. You'll need an heir, son. I know of your… tendencies. I know they do not lend themselves easily to a child who bears Black blood, and the heirship will not accept a child not born to Black blood."
Sirius blinked. He hadn't actually known that. He'd always assumed that he and Remus (it would be just Sirius now, Remus hadn't even said goodbye before he left) would adopt and Regulus would carry on the Black family. He swallowed painfully. In a way, he guessed that was what had happened.
Narcissa spoke up. "My son is due to be born in a few months. Lucius has agreed to let him be Heir Black, if you are willing."
"Really?" Sirius could hardly believe that. Anyone who had ever met Lucius knew how proud he was of his family name and how much he wanted a son to carry on that name. "What, would the Malfoy line just die out?"
"Lucius has some cousins in France. The line would pass to them."
"Ah." Sirius paused and thought for a moment. He was reluctant to bring up Achilles, but this was his Lord Grandfather and his closest cousin. If he couldn't trust them, who in his family could he trust? He cleared his throat. "Well, er, thank you, Cissa, but I already have an heir."
"I was not aware you had sired a child," Arcturus said.
"I haven't." Sirius hesitated then continued, "Swear to me you won't tell anyone else." He got sharp eyed agreements. "Not even Lucius, Narcissa, especially not Lucius."
"Very well."
He said it all at once, "Regulus had a daughter before he died, and he left her to me."
His grandfather nodded slowly. "That is why you say he's been dead for four months."
"Yes." Sirius shook his head. "An official from the Department of Magical Child Welfare informed me when they dropped her off and had me sign paperwork to claim custody. I don't know why no one told Mother and Father."
Arcturus waved it away unconcernedly. "The DMCW might be part of the Ministry, but it works mostly separate from the rest, and has always been faster at knowing of deaths. They have to be, to get young Heirs placed with the right people before any attempts at line theft can be made."
Narcissa ignored all of that to cut to the important parts. "What is her name?"
"Achilles," Sirius smiled despite his stress. "Achilles Adhara Black. She's six months old, just learned how to crawl."
"And what of the mother?"
"A half-blood girl, Cecily Sayre," Sirius reported. "She renounced her parental rights a week after Achilles was born."
"Sayre," Arcturus said thoughtfully. "Any relation to the old Irish Sayre family?"
"It's possible, maybe, through a squib line?" Sirius shrugged. "From what I could find, her mother is a muggleborn witch, Cecily gets her family name from her father's side."
"And where is Achilles today?" Arcturus asked.
"I dropped her off with James and Lily," Sirius explained. "They're expecting a son of their own in July and I don't think Mother knows about her and I want to keep it from her as long as possible." He sighed. "At least until I figure out a way to keep them from claiming custody."
"I assume since you have the child that Regulus named you her guardian in his will?"
"Yes, but you know my mother. She'd find a way to contest."
"Why haven't you simply blood-adopted the girl?" Narcissa asked. She rolled her eyes at Sirius' surprised look. "Honestly, Sirius. We grew up in the same family, I know you know the rituals."
"The ritual I know requires three family members to welcome the new member," Sirius said after a moment. "I don't have anyone to fill the other two roles."
"She is already part of the family," Arcturus said. "And closely related by blood to you, as well. You should only need to magically adopt the child, make her yours in the eyes of magic, and that is a simple matter of words bound by blood. Gringotts does it often enough."
"I would still need two witnesses," Sirius argued. "I'd ask James and Lily, but they have to be of the family, all the books say so."
"Has being a Gryffindor dulled your wits?" Arcturus snapped. "You have two witnesses, boy! We are sitting right next to you!"
"I guess I, I'm just not used to having people from the family to turn to," Sirius said haltingly. "But of course, I would be honored if you would serve as witnesses to the adoption, Grandfather, Cousin."
~~~
It was all wrapped up very quickly. A date to meet at Gringotts was set, a promise was extracted from Sirius to visit more and bring Achilles, and before he knew it, Sirius was standing in the Potter living room.
"Padfoot, mate, you look rough," James told him as Lily brought Achilles over.
"Was it hard," she asked, "the funeral? I know you haven't spoken to your family much since sixth year."
"The funeral was…" Sirius cast about for something to say. "Short. And small. We had no body, and Regulus was… too young to have accomplished much of anything."
"Family only, I read," James said, deftly avoiding the entire topic of how young Regulus had died. "Rita Skeeter went on and on about how the funeral was at the family home, closed to the public and the location not even disclosed, in that article she wrote about his death. Made some nasty comments on the size of the Black family, I expect your grandfather will crack down on that."
"Only ten of us left," Sirius sighed. He took Achilles from Lily. The baby gave him a gummy grin. "Well, eleven now, I guess."
He fell silent, eyes closed and face pressed into Achilles' hair for a long moment. Her nonsense baby babble soothed the part of his heart that hurt for Regulus.
"Stay for dinner, Sirius," Lily said gently. "I don't think you should be alone tonight."
"…yeah, okay."
Later, he would go to Grimmauld Place in the middle of the night and find that Regulus had moved most of his things to a different Black property. He would pack up the remaining items in his baby brother's childhood room with shaking hands and leave before anyone discovered him. Later, Sirius would introduce his daughter to the rest of their friends, and try to ignore the feeling of a looming darkness threatening to swallow them all whole.
But for now, Sirius let the warm sounds of his brother and sister's (because that is what James and Lily were, they were irrevocably a part of Sirius) voices and his daughter's laughter wash over him and sooth the jagged edges of the grief he didn't want to feel, and he smiled.