Chapter 1: Where did that come from?

I don't own 'Harry Potter'

Note: This is the SEQUEL to 'A Second Chance at Happiness? Maybe?' Check that out first if you haven't.

Warnings: This story will have mentions of mpreg, actual mpreg (at some point), and references to sex. (Couldn't fit this in the summary lol.)

(Also, the title won't let me have an ellipsis for some reason, hence the hyphens.)

Harry looked around and tried not to roll his eyes. His Gryffindor ancestors were probably rolling in their graves right now.

His new bedroom, the one which he shared with his husband – and he still couldn't stop the silly grin at the knowledge he was a married man – was the quintessential Slytherin room. Green and silver were everywhere, from the duvet to the drapes on the four-poster bed, to the pale green wallpaper with silver accents, even the rug on the floor and the armchairs next to the fireplace were full of snake pride.

Regulus maintained the colours matched their eyes but Harry called bullshit. He'd seen the man's room at Grimmauld Place, after all.

He swept his eyes around the Slytherin room – and bloody hell, surely there was a thing as too much House pride – and turned around, walking through the door into the hallway of their new home. Apparently Melania was something of an interior decorator, that or she just liked to mother her family – Harry could attest to the insane woman's nature, he was actually starting to become desensitised to people jumping out at him from the way she kept appearing out of nowhere and hugging him to death – but the woman had quite happily done up one of the older Black houses for he and Regulus to live in, beaming as she watched them move in.

Though that probably had to do with there being close to twenty bedrooms. Not that he was analysing that thought. Nope. Not at all.

(He couldn't stop thinking about it.)

Oak Haven was a small manor house – and the Blacks had a very different definition to the word 'small' than Harry did; the place was massive! Stupid rich pure-bloods – in the countryside of Kent, tucked away from pretty much any neighbours for several miles and sat underneath every concealing spell and enchantment the Blacks could think of. There was no such thing as paranoid when everyone wanted to get back at you. (It was a sentiment Harry could relate to.)

The house was beautiful, with extensive gardens, a conservatory, large sprawling dining rooms and sitting rooms, with a small library and study on the top floor accessible only to he and Regulus. He did think having a three-story house with eighteen bedrooms was a little excessive, but apparently this was extremely tame compared to some people. (Remembering the maze that was Black Manor, he could guess what was normal.)

But the bedrooms. The bedrooms were the issue. It wasn't necessarily the rooms themselves, it was what they represented. How they would come to be filled in years to come, either by the insane number of Black cousins descending on their home to 'visit' – calling bullshit again, those fuckers don't turn up for no reason – or other guests staying with them …

Or with children.

Harry was vaguely terrified of the idea of having children. Oh, he definitely wanted them, and he especially wanted them with the man he loved, but after his own horrendous childhood he didn't exactly have the best reference for how to care for children. Andromeda might have helped him when he babysat Teddy but that hadn't been full-time. What if he hurt them? What if he messed them up mentally? What if –

A pair of arms slid round his waist from behind and cut off his inner panic, startling him and making him flinch before he consciously realised where he was and relaxed.

"Thinking deep thoughts, Husband?"

Harry felt himself blush once more and cursed that stupid bastard Charlus for making him paler than ever – really need to get him back soon; maybe bald would be a good look for the git – as it was horrifically obvious his entire face was Gryffindor red. He couldn't help it! Having such a stupidly attractive man look at him with lust and affection while talking to and holding him possessively gave him butterflies in his stomach. And injected a shot of concentrated energy into his libido, but then again he was still a teenager, sue him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

He gasped with wide eyes at the feel of teeth dragging down the side of his neck and spun around, glaring up at that stupid self-satisfied smirk that was definitely not turning him on. Not all at. And he definitely didn't want to turn around and readjust himself. Or just do it in front of Regulus in the hopes of –

Shut up, Harry. Jesus Christ, I've turned into a walking ball of sex drive.

Grey eyes softened and Regulus held his waist again. "But seriously, what's wrong?"

"... Do you think I'll be a good father?"

Regulus blinked and stared at him as if he were stupid, and though he would usually be quite pissed off at having that look focused on him he really wanted a proper answer.

"Regulus, I'm being serious," he muttered.

"Harry," his husband began, "I've seen you with Marcus, and I saw you at the wedding with all the children. Even when they played up you weren't angry or violent, you didn't raise your voice, and you were firm but kind. There's no doubt in my mind that you'll be a fantastic father."

The taller man finished by leaning down and sealing their lips together, pushing firmly but keeping the gesture entirely chaste in the wake of their conversation.

A few seconds later Regulus pulled back and looked him in the eye. "Why do you even have to ask this?"

"You know what my childhood was like."

A flash of fury went through grey eyes. "They should be dead for what they did."

"And that's why I won't tell you where they live," he deadpanned.

"I could always track them down through Evans and –"

Harry cut him off by kissing him, plastering his body to Regulus' and licking into his mouth with far more passion than before. He ran his hands up the other man's arms and lightly dragged his nails the way Regulus liked it before pulling back with a smirk.

"You could, or you could help me christen all the rooms in our new home. There are quite a few."

Silver eyes darkened at the prospect and Harry grinned. Just because he was scared of being a parent didn't mean things would go wrong.

Besides, he thought as he was held tightly and pulled towards the conservatory, we've got a lot of work to do before we even have a baby.

Work he was quite happy to do.

"Regulus?"

"Hmm?"

"Just a quick question, but who exactly has access to this house? I mean, who can get in like right now?"

Regulus turned to his husband with a smirk. "Nobody. Usually the wards are set to allow a specific set of individuals entrance to our home, but earlier I raised them to block all entrance from anyone. Before I came to find you, that is."

Harry smiled bemusedly. "Were you planning on us shagging in here?"

"I was actually imagining a bed, but I shan't complain despite the change in location."

The green-eyed man rolled his eyes and snorted before laying back and stretching his arms above his shoulders. Regulus definitely couldn't complain, not with that view anyway. Harry was entirely naked – as Regulus wished he would be more often, but unfortunately common decency dictated otherwise, not to mention he'd probably hex someone dead if they caught sight of his husband in the nude – and was laying on the floor of their redecorated conservatory, completely open to Regulus' gaze.

He had more than a few scars, the most noticeable ones being a dark oval just over his sternum and two gashes on his arm. The infamous locket which would have prevented them from ever meeting – he rather wished he could burn it to ashes once more – a Necromancy ritual, and a thousand-year-old basilisk which was apparently slumbering underneath the castle at this very moment. (He wondered if Salazar Slytherin had actually had any common sense.)

There was another lightening-shaped scar over his heart, identical to the one on his brow, and Regulus couldn't help but twitch for his wand whenever he realised that Harry had taken on two separate Killing Curses and lived to tell the tale. He'd like to think that Harry being married to him would curb some of his impulsive behaviour which lead to said situations, but he was more than aware it seemed to be the other way around; instead of Regulus muting Harry's insanity, Harry's madness was eroding his composure. (He would complain, but fantasising about what his mother would say if she could see his antics now was fast becoming one of his favourite pastimes.)

The sunlight was streaming in through the glass ceiling and playing across the smaller man's skin, the pale tone almost glowing under it's warm caress. He could see various plants and flowers around the room behind Harry, and once more he was struck with how utterly blessed he was to have such a captivating and beautiful man as his own.

Regulus blinked and tried not to groan. Merlin, I really need to stop waxing poetic like an angst-riddled fool. Or a preteen girl.

He shook of that ghastly thought – he was not that bad, thank you very much – and turned sideways from his own position on the floor so he could study his husband without straining his neck.

"Did you wish to go anywhere tomorrow? We don't have any plans yet."

Harry smiled with his eyes closed, looking extraordinarily relaxed for once. (Not that Regulus was smug or anything. It wasn't as if he was the sole cause of the other man's bliss, and of course he wasn't bordering on egotistical when it came to examining his husband's current state. Not at all.)

"I was thinking we could to Diagon. Your dad's birthday's coming up, and maybe he won't be as wary of his new son-in-law if I get him something suitably overpriced. He probably thinks I'm sleeping with you for money at the moment, and I'd quite like to get in his good graces to be honest. He doesn't quite scare the shit out of me like your grandfather, but he makes me twitch way too much to be comfortable. I swear, you wouldn't believe how many times I've nearly thrown a curse in your dad's face; he really needs to stop materialising out of thin air."

Regulus snorted and rolled his eyes at Harry's grin even if he couldn't see him. His father wasn't that bad, though he would definitely agree that Arcturus Black was a terrifying man. Harry was also probably right about his father's thoughts though. Orion hadn't had a chance to really get to know Harry, so maybe an extravagant birthday gift would disabuse his father of the notion that he was being used for money.

He mentally paused and reviewed both his thoughts and Harry's words. While it was true that the Potter family was by no means destitute – they would have been a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight if Harry's great-grandfather Henry hadn't offended the House of Nott by being so blunt; the blood of the Potters ran true, indeed – but he'd never heard of Harry visiting Gringotts or going to see Charlus for money, so he had to be carrying some on him. Though he had to be running low, what with their various shopping trips and escapades on their honeymoon.

At least, that was what common sense should tell him.

However, during the past month and a half he'd been repeatedly rammed over the head with the fact that common sense didn't belong anywhere in the vicinity of his shorter husband. Harry Potter or Hadrian Black nee Potter, his legal name meant nothing in the face of the insanity he attracted like a magnet, and Regulus had a sinking feeling that the smaller man had once more ended up in a situation he really shouldn't be in, either through deliberately – and probably cheerfully – ignoring any semblance of logic, or stumbling into it through sheer dumb luck.

"Harry?"

"Regulus?"

"How much money do you have on you?"

Green eyes shot open as Harry froze, his verdant orbs swinging over to Regulus' grey set before shooting to the side as Harry studiously avoided eye contact with a vaguely guilty look on his face.

"... Um, well, you see … I mean, about that …"

As he trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck, Regulus was once more reminded of his previous thought that life with Harry would never be boring.

Though at this rate I'm going to be grey before I'm twenty.

Regulus looked out at the shining and glittering sea before him and tried to decide whether sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose was the appropriate response to this situation, or if he should go with what his elevated heart rate wanted and keel over in a dead faint after hyperventilating at what was before his eyes.

He honestly couldn't tell which was better right now.

Ever since he'd met Harry he'd known, even if only subconsciously to begin with, that the other man had a tendency to exist in the realm of 'what the fuck?' Time travelling two decades into the past, being a bloody Parselmouth – still need to figure out where that came from – not to mention having the Deathly Hallows just sat in his pockets, there seemed to be no end to the insanity that Harry could experience.

He'd – rather foolishly, looking back in hindsight – decided that being married and them spending practically every waking moment together without anything untoward happening meant that Harry's luck had shifted from downright bat-shit crazy to just slightly odd.

He should have known better.

"Husband?"

"Yes my darling husband that I love so much, partly because he loves me despite the craziness that surrounds me?"

Regulus snorted. "Trying to butter me up won't help your case, Harry." He turned to Harry and raised a brow, absently gesturing to the cavern behind him. "What is this?"

"Er … my money? And some bits and pieces I own?"

He would not be swayed by his cute husband, he was a Black, and he had some composure, damn it! (If only he could find said composure in the presence of his husband.)

"Harry. Be truthful."

The smaller man slumped a little. "Yeah, yeah … Okay, you know about the dragon … thing, right?"

"Thing?" He looked at Harry bemusedly.

"Regulus," Harry glared, "we're literally in Gringotts right now. Who knows how secure this vault is? They could literally be listening to us right now, and I'd rather not accumulate any more enemies right this second.

"And don't look at me like that, compared to how paranoid your family are about protecting what they've got, I'm practically apathetic!"

The taller man tried not to grin in the face of his husband's vehemence knowing it wouldn't go down very well, not to mention that Harry made a decent point. The House of Black were vicious in hoarding and guarding their assets, and Harry not wanting the goblins to realise he'd robbed them and freed a dragon in the future was a wise decision.

But Harry's panic was still hilarious.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, I remember the dragon thing."

Harry huffed at him but proceeded anyway. "After everything calmed down, the … employees weren't exactly happy with me, so I had to, er … take my business elsewhere, as it were. Unfortunately, I didn't know of anywhere else that carried out the same … services, so I was forced to basically clear everything out. I didn't know where to put everything, so the woman I was living with helped me carry everything in a … special bracelet she found in my house."

So what you're saying is you've been carrying around the combined Potter and Black vaults – close to a million galleons – in a dangerous bracelet you found in Grimmauld Place which Andromeda spelled to help you.

Regulus valiantly resisted the urge to shut his eyes tightly at this madness and instead turned back to survey Harry's new vault.

Piles upon piles of gold were stacked in this section of the vault, reaching from floor to ceiling as the shiny gold coins practically mocked Regulus with their existence. The piles of silver and bronze weren't much less, and Harry was essentially set for the next several lifetimes if he so wished.

The next room of the vault really did make his heart want to give out though, especially upon imagining what his grandfather Arcturus would say if he could see the room.

The Black heirlooms.

Well, to be more precise it was a room filled with heirlooms from both the Potter and Black families which had apparently been magically doubled with Harry's trip through time, the second version now happily collecting dust in the vault of a man who probably didn't entirely know – or care – how much some of these things were worth.

Regulus poked his head around to see a pair of antique Vanishing Cabinets that dated back to the seventeenth century and tried not to do something stupid like whimper in phantom mental pain.

Or maybe it was real mental pain, he honestly couldn't tell the difference anymore.

"Sorry."

He turned to see Harry staring at the floor while chewing his lip, the defeated slump to his shoulders making him look utterly miserable. The sight made Regulus' stomach churn uncomfortably, so he walked over and gently grabbed Harry's arms to get his attention.

"For what?"

"For everything?" Harry gestured around helplessly. "My life's mad, and I keep dragging you into every mess that I end up in. I just –"

Regulus kissed him hard before pulling back. "Harry, shut up."

At the gaping mouth he smirked. "Harry, in case you managed to miss it – though perhaps the endless sex has simply messed with your brain – we're actually married. You know, partners? As in we do and share everything together.

"I'm not going to lie and say that I don't find your luck perplexing or bewildering – I'm genuinely certain that you were the victim of some curse of luck at one moment or another – but that doesn't mean I mind. Truthfully I'm glad for the variety to our lives, monotony is a terrible way to live."

Harry just stared at him for a moment before snorting and shaking his head, muttering under his breath about stupid Blacks and their penchant for craziness. It was a rather adorable sight, truth be told.

He could do without the comparisons to his idiot brother, though.

"Harry, I really don't care about you having this much money, I mean if anything it would be helpful not to be so reliant on others for financial assistance."

He paused for a moment before picturing his family.

"But for the love of everything, please don't tell people you have the Black heirlooms sitting in your vault."

Harry just raised a brow. "Do I look stupid?"

"You look like you'd enjoy taunting some of my relatives just for the entertainment."

His husband went to speak before closing his mouth, and a moment later met Regulus' eyes with a wry grin.

He would, wouldn't he?

Regulus huffed and shook his head.

Life with Harry was completely absurd.

A/N: Welcome back!

Hey guys, and welcome back to my insanity! Sorry for making everyone wait, but hopefully it wasn't too long. Maybe?

As I mentioned on the previous story, this fic will be predominantly slice-of-life moments without an overarching story. It's just whatever I can think of for Harry and Regulus and their lives.

Hopefully I'll manage to update once a week, but there might be times that's too difficult, in which case it'll be once every two weeks. I'll try, I promise!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you next time.

Bye! :D