Chapter 8: Life is a blessing

I don't own 'Harry Potter'

"Just so we're clear, I fucking hate you right now."

Harry turned around and smirked. "Karma's a bitch, isn't it?"

Regulus just scowled and went back to his book, fidgeting relentlessly as he tried to find a comfortable position. A useless endeavour as Harry very well remembered. His poor husband looked genuinely pissed off with his current situation, but Harry honestly couldn't find it in himself to feel too much pity for the other man.

Pregnancy was a pain in the arse, and it was only right for Regulus to learn that first hand.

He supposed it was a shitty time, his husband only having a month left before he gave birth to their third child, but at least Regulus wasn't carrying twins. Granted, Harry hadn't exactly known he'd had a very lively set of twins inside him at the time, but hindsight was enough of an explanation as to why he'd felt like complete and utter shit for nearly nine months. It'd been literally doubly awful.

Harry leaned back in his armchair, watching Regulus lying down on the sofa across from him and felt his lips twitch with amusement. Yeah, he supposed he was being a bit of an arsehole, but turnabout was fair play as far as he was concerned. Besides, his husband was ridiculously cute when he pouted at every little thing that annoyed him.

"Papa! Daddy!"

The green-eyed man bent down to intercept his daughters before they tried to jump on Regulus – again – and accidentally hurt the pregnant man. He lifted them up off the ground as quick as he could, grinning at their delighted giggles. It was no wonder where the girls got their level of cuteness from, he thought as he gazed down at his husband.

Said husband shifted with the barest wince and sat up properly, setting aside his book and readying himself for the exuberance of a couple of two-year-olds. Harry put the girls down and watched as they ran to their other parent with a hell of a lot of enthusiasm. (He had no doubt that Kreacher had dosed them up on sugar once more. He also wanted some too, because bloody hell he could use some of his daughters' energy.)

Lyra scrambled up onto the sofa and grinned up at Regulus, brandishing a crumpled piece of paper as she did. "Daddy! Me an' Ree did picta!"

Regulus smiled at the younger twin, ruffling her hair gently as he did. "Oh? You and Carina drew a picture, did you?"

"Yes, Daddy! 'Geva!" chirped their oldest from her place on the floor against Regulus' legs. Her infectious grin was wider than her twin's, but Harry wasn't surprised as Carina was the more extroverted girl. Either way, they were both too fucking cute right now, and Harry might the slightest bit smug when it came to his kids. Parental bragging was totally normal, thank you very much.

Harry leaned forward and twisted his head to look at the drawing his little imps had created, trying to sift through the many, many scribbles that were part and parcel of a two-year-old's picture to see what was underneath. He felt himself soften when he saw the true image. (Well, their version of the true image, anyway.) Fucking hell, what the fuck did I do to deserve this?

Drawn with the liberal use of crayons and pencils, and a great deal of artistic license, was their family in what appeared to be their garden. A little Harry and Regulus were stood on either side of the twins, holding their hands, while they in turn were holding onto a tiny, black-haired blob that Harry assumed was the baby. (Harry and the girls had a startling shade of bright green for their eyes, but considering the girls were two, he was proud that they even thought to use the right colour at all.) Above the family's heads were eight white and black spots flying around, with a long line of black on the grass that was no doubt a sunbathing Ophiuchus. A small brownish blur to the side had what looked to be a book in hand, so it was probably Kreacher. All in all, the picture was rather good for for their age. And sweet.

He might have been tearing up slightly. Just a little. A tiny amount.

Harry looked up to see a similar wet sheen in Regulus' eyes, though that certainly wasn't a surprise considering his lovely husband had been more than a little emotional over the course of this pregnancy. Not that Harry hadn't been emotional, it was just that his had all ben centred around anger. And sex. Which worked out pretty well for stress relief, seeing as the former fed the latter until the couple had spent hours upon hours catching their breath in bed. (Good times. Very good times.)

Regulus swallowed heavily and pulled the twins towards him gently, folding them into his strong arms. "It's wonderful, girls. You've done very well. Your papa and I love it very much."

Identical faces pulled back with beaming grins after a quick hug, running over to Harry to indulge in some more loving affection with their other parent, before running off with loud giggles down the hallways. Harry noticed Kreacher pop away to keep an eye on the trouble magnets and thanked the gods under his breath. Between his and Regulus' genes, the girls had no hope of staying out of trouble.

"So … Are you okay?"

His husband looked up at him, his eyes just a little red. The sight made Harry soften internally, once more infinitely grateful that he'd been lucky enough to fall for someone that was willing to show his children how much he loved them. He didn't think that he'd ever be able to deal with someone who refused to be affectionate with their children.

Harry walked over to the sofa and sat down next to Regulus, wrapping his arms around the other man's shoulders and burying his nose into silky curls. He inhaled deeply and nuzzled slightly, grinning lazily when the hug was reciprocated. There was no passion, no urgency, no hurried movements. The peaceful calm, the gentle intimacy was more than enough in this very moment.

He really was lucky.

"I'm fine," came the gruff reply. "I just wish that my hormones would settle down. I feel ridiculous."

Harry kissed Regulus' head. "You're literally growing a child inside you, of course there's going to be some side-effect from that. Your body's getting used to having to look after the two of you. You're simply adjusting to something entirely new; there's nothing ridiculous about that."

Regulus leaned back and met Harry's eyes, searching for something. Probably whether or not Harry was being truthful or something. Which was stupid, because Harry might be a bit of a twat sometimes, but he wasn't going to lie to his own husband about something so important. Harry was being honest; it was a massive change for Regulus' body, so of course he was going to have to deal with other things he hadn't expected.

He was unbelievably proud of how his husband was caring for their child.

After a few seconds, a small smile painted itself across the Black's aristocratic face, lighting up his expression into something that made Harry swallow heavily. The man was too damned beautiful. How am I supposed to deal with this? It doesn't help that –

His internal monologue was cut off by a pair of soft lips on his, the pressure encouraging him to lay back on the sofa. Harry broke the kiss to look up at his other half. Regulus looked so grateful and happy, and if this were any other situation Harry would be more than happy to gather the other man back in his arms and spend the afternoon lazing about while cuddling each other.

As it was, the slightly swollen red lips, flushed face and lust darkened eyes put paid to those innocent ideas. He ran his hands up and down Regulus's soft waist, gently brushing his stomach as he did. Harry felt a flash of possessive pride at the sight of his husband carrying his child. All of a sudden, he had no problem in understanding why Regulus had been so receptive to his advances when he'd been carrying the twins.

He lifted his arms up and pulled the other man down. Kreacher could keep the girls entertained for the day.

"I never would have expected it from Lucius Malfoy of all people."

"I agree, Cousin. I mean, we've all wondered one way or another for years, but the potential political fallout was usually more than enough to stay anyone's hand. I wonder if Abraxas giving him all that power was a good idea or not."

Harry's ears caught the last sentence and he internally perked up, wondering if a certain annoying family had managed to do anything else to annoy every other person in their society. It seemed to be their status quo. Pissing people off, acting too superior, never shutting up … it was no wonder Draco Malfoy hadn't been punched more often while at school. He really regretted not giving Hermione a medal during their third year.

He silently looked over at Cedrella Weasley, hoping that she'd reveal something about the House of Malfoy that he could laugh over for a good few weeks. He hadn't heard any funny gossip since Gideon Prewett – the Heir to the House of Prewett – had run off and eloped, taking his husband's name for good measure, just to give his father a figurative heart attack.

Considering his husband was Kingsley fucking Shacklebolt, Harry didn't feel that bad for laughing hysterically.

He'd always liked the older Auror in his old life, the man being a perfect blend of calm, serious, determined and light-hearted. Kingsley had always managed to reassure Harry with just a few words, and was definitely one of the few people that Harry had genuinely trusted. And found hilarious, because Kingsley had a truly twisted sense of humour whenever he deigned to show it. Harry still remembered the man's quip about Sirius' back pain being canine-related, all the while shooting a loaded smirk at Remus that made the werewolf turn Gryffindor red. Definitely one of the best moments of fifth year.

"I mean, he doesn't seem to have considered the ramifications at all," Cedrella huffed while shaking her head. "We all know that Squibs can have magical children and grandchildren – even further than that if the magic lays dormant – but presenting the results of these tests in such a blunt manner really doesn't match his usual modus operandi."

Oh … I did that, didn't I? Fuck.

Harry tried not to pull a guilty face, realising that he'd kind of fucked over Lucius with his casual Imperius years ago. Not that he felt bad for messing with Lucius Mafoy, but he didn't really want to cause any trouble for Narcissa. He liked the blonde woman far too much to disrupt her home life just for some justified cursing of her dipshit husband. She was a kind – and brilliantly manipulative – woman that raised Harry's spirits every time they met, and he really didn't want to upset her in any way. And she was terrifying. He did not want to get on the wrong end of her wand, especially because Narcissa had been able to duel Bellatrix to a tie every single time. If that wasn't enough of an indication of her duelling prowess, he didn't know what would be.

He was surprised that Lucius had taken so long to do his little investigation, but he supposed that he hadn't exactly given him a time frame to do it. Real life had probably been busy enough that the enforced will hadn't entirely consumed him. And, of course, intent always had a massive impact on magic. Harry hadn't exactly been imagining the blonde peacock immediately running off and stalking muggle-born students to take their blood for testing at the bank. (Which, now he thought about, sounded so fucking bad that he was surprised Regulus hadn't hexed him upon hearing of Harry's crazy plans. Then again, his lovely husband wasn't any fonder of Narcissa's husband than Harry was. Regulus could be a vindictive little shit when he wanted to.)

Harry carefully took a sip of wine – all the while cackling internally at the mental image of his husband's scowling face, a second away from setting him alight at the injustice of him being banned from alcohol – and watched Cedrella frown slightly, her eyes locked on Marius' as the cousins tried to figure out what was going on with the acting Lord Malfoy. He wasn't worried about them figuring out his part in this madness; as close as he'd gotten to the two of them since his wedding, they still weren't privy to the full extent of his brilliant mind. And Regulus can shut the fuck up. He certainly wasn't complaining when I got him a catalogue from Ann Summers.

No, Cedrella and Marius were not the problem in this situation. The – slight – issue with this lunch was sat across the table from him, silver eyes glinting with humour as they studied him, a wicked smirk painted on her face. Harry met her gaze head on and felt his eyes widen, a slightly embarrassed flush on his cheeks as her smirk widened even further. She knew this was down to him, and he prayed that she kept quiet until they were in private.

Then again, even nature itself wouldn't be able to contain Dorea.

His adoptive father's wife was one of the three people to know about his time-travelling misadventures, and more than that, she knew that he'd done something to get the Death Eaters all arrested. Seeing as Dorea was neither naïve nor stupid, Harry had no doubt that she'd long since come to the correct conclusion. Or something close to it, anyway.

Dorea grinned evilly before her expression smoothed out to mere curiosity, turning to her brother and cousin with a slight frown. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Lucius was being controlled somehow." She flicked her eyes back to Harry's and winked quickly. Bloody woman.

"It makes sense," Marius conceded slowly. "But Lucius is Heir Malfoy. His ring should protect him from everything, including the Imperious Curse. I'm not sure what else it could be."

Cedrella snorted. "I'd say he's acting as stupid as a man thinking with his cock, but this certainly isn't Cissa's plan. And we all know that Lucius would be dead already if he'd strayed beyond her bed. Our niece isn't one to be taken for a fool by a man."

Marius raised a brow. "I feel like I should be offended by your assessment of men."

"Oh, you know what I mean."

As the two descended into a playful argument, Dorea looked at Harry again and tilted her head to the side in question. Funnily enough, she didn't seem to give a shit about him doing something which could end up with him in Azkaban, she was obviously more curious about how he did it.

He knew there was a reason he loved Dorea Potter.

Harry's lips quirked up, threatening a grin as he flicked his gaze to Marius quickly before back to Dorea, nodding just barely. The woman got the message straight away, and despite the fact that she was clearly still wondering how he'd pulled it off, every other emotion on her face was eclipsed by the wicked glee shining from her silver eyes. If he weren't in total agreement, he'd probably piss himself at the sight. (He might have a skewed sense of danger, but he would never anger a Black witch.)

Harry gently cleared his throat and calmly leaned back in his chair. "So, what's going to happen now? What with the supposed 'muggle-borns'? Clearly they aren't actually separated from the older Houses, so are they going be integrated, or what?"

Cedrella hummed quietly. "The more progressive families and those without Heirs will probably give their kin their name without question. The more traditionalist families … they'll likely insist on either outright ignorance or complete integration, with or without the individual's input. It'll be a nightmare to regulate."

Before Harry could process the logistics, Marius piped up with a smirk on his face. "I think I'm more excited to see whether or not anyone will claim any illegitimate children. Not to mention whether there'll be any unaccounted Blacks popping up in the hunt."

Dorea snorted into her drink before lowering the glass. "Please. We all know that we'll find at least three." She turned to Harry with a grin dancing across her face, the expression of someone who knew something scandalous and had absolutely no compunctions admitting it. (He loved seeing that face; it always promised great amusement.) "Pollux had a rather interesting … dalliance about eight years ago with a fascinating witch. And let's just say that there's a reason that Arcturus hasn't spoken of his siblings in recent years. Lord Black is astoundingly capable of keeping family secrets."

"Really?" he asked eagerly. Besides being bloody hilarious – which was truly his biggest motivator right now; he didn't give a shit about his awful personality, thank you very much – it would be quite nice if there were even more Blacks hiding around somewhere. Even more family for his husband, and possibly even more people that he could convince to protect his children with their lives through the power of their cuteness.

Was he cold and calculated? Yes. Did he care? Fuck, no.

"Oh, yes." It seemed that Cedrella was also incredibly gleeful concerning this topic. "Let me tell you, Arcturus isn't as good at hiding things in his office as he thinks he is. It's almost as if he forgot that Cassiopeia and I are friends, and that she has a double Mastery in Warding and Runic Magic. Getting past his protections was easier than I ever expected. The day that he welcomed me back into the family – Orion, what are you doing here?"

Harry spun in his seat to see his father-in-law striding towards their table, the man seeming more than a little high-strung. He would have been more worried if it weren't for the happy excitement visible in Orion's eyes, the silver flashing with contentment and pride as he walked towards their group.

The Heir Black stopped right in front of Harry, and Harry just knew. Later on if pressed he wouldn't be able to explain it, wouldn't have even the slightest clue how he'd known what his husband's father was about to say. As it was, even before the words were spoken aloud, Harry was on his feet and preparing for apparition.

"Regulus is in labour."

Harry stepped away from the table as he said a hasty goodbye to everyone else, pausing briefly to turn back to Orion. "Do you mind going and asking Sirius if he minds keeping the girls for the rest of the day? If he doesn't, could you do it?"

"Of course." The gratitude in the grey eyes that matched his beloved husband made Harry's heart feel lighter. He smiled, silently wishing the man good luck in his endeavour as he spun on the spot. Orion Black was a good man, and a good father, no matter how tense his relationship with Sirius was right now. And if Harry could give his father-in-law more chances to fix things? Well, Sirius had probably done something stupid that he deserved retribution for recently.

Either way, he had more important things to worry about. Let's hope that the weather is an omen for good luck, he thought as he landed, gazing up at the bizarre January sunshine. He walked towards the front door and took a deep breath.

You can do this, Regulus.

"Ow!" he yelped, wincing as his hand was squeezed so hard that he heard the bones creak and crack under the pressure. He might have been tempted to say something else, but stormy grey eyes found his and shot him a filthy glare that stopped him short. Terror aside, Harry was rather impressed that his husband could muster up enough energy to look at him like that.

He wondered what it said about his mental state that it made him love Regulus even more.

"Just so we're clear, Darling, the next time we decide to go through with this foolishness, you can go through this fucking shitty experience, got it?" his husband bit out through gritted teeth, looking as if he was going to kill Harry at any second. Or go with his earlier threat of hexing his bollocks off. (Not that he would. Regulus was far too appreciative of everything that Harry had in his underwear to risk depriving himself of that pleasure.

He certainly never thought that his sexual prowess would one day prevent him from being permanently maimed. Small mercies.)

"Well, we did say we'd take it in turns, didn't we?" Harry quipped with a grin, a grin that faltered – just a little – at the growing rage in Regulus' eyes. Maybe he should tone it down until the sprog was out. Speaking of …

"It's time, Mister Black."

Regulus glared at their newest Healer – thank fuck he's not taking everything out on me now – and snarled at him. "If you've fucked up like your predecessor and missed a second child inside my stomach, I will fucking murder you with my bare hands. Do you understand?!"

The Healer in question – a man that looked like he was three times Regulus' age and at least a good foot taller – paled rapidly and swallowed reflexively, looking as if he'd prefer to be on the opposite side of the globe right now, far away from the short, beautiful and horrendously frightening man on the bed before him.

As his husband turned his ire onto him too, Harry found he could relate.

This can't be over quick enough.

Regulus opened his eyes and groaned, closing them again at the constant ache of his body.

He took a few deep breaths and relaxed his body, mentally picking his way through his memories to figure out where he was. He'd had lunch with his father and Uncle Alphard, tried to curse his uncle silent after yet another long-winded rant on the beauty of his wife and their unborn child – thank fuck he wasn't so revolting with his affection for Harry – then he'd thrown some of their china plates to the floor after his body decided now would be the optimum time to go into labour.

(Not that there was ever going to be a good time for excruciating pain, but that really wasn't the point.)

There were vague memories of screaming, pain, breaking Harry's hand, pain, throwing something heavy at his husband, pain, the relief of actually having a child, pain, passing out, and even more pain at the end, even with the welcome darkness encroaching on his awareness. Childbirth was a riot. Fucking fantastic. Amazing, truly. Though whatever potions he was on right now were amazing. He was aching, true, but the sharp agony from earlier had mysteriously vanished. Which was all for the better as far as he was concerned.

He opened his eyes again and blinked rapidly at the bright light, absentmindedly wondering why it was so bloody sunny in January. It was really odd. After a few seconds of studying the white ceiling he turned his gaze to the rest of the room, looking around until he caught sight of Harry sat on a chair a few feet away. Regulus felt his stomach flutter at the sight of his husband cradling a tiny form wrapped in blankets, a loving look in his green eyes as he gazed down at their third child.

How on earth did he ever get so lucky?

Regulus cleared his throat. "Harry?"

The man in question looked up quickly, eyes roving over his reclined figure before settling back on his face, a bright grin on his face. "Hey, there. Are you feeling okay?"

"Aching, but it could be a lot worse," he murmured quietly, eyes continuously flicking towards the swaddled infant.

Harry, of course, took notice of this and stood up carefully, gently depositing the baby into the cot next to the bed. He walked over to Regulus and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips that had Regulus wishing he was strong enough to pull the shorter man down on top of him. As it was, he could do nothing other than grunt in pain as Harry slowly manoeuvred him into a sitting position, propped up by a veritable mountain of pillows. Which was a blessing on his aching back at the current time. It felt glorious.

The time-travelling moron (as he always would be to Regulus) closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Regulus', breathing deeply as he wound their fingers together.

"I'm glad you're okay. You scared the crap out of me when you passed out."

Regulus felt a twinge of guilt at that, not to mention the bruises decorating Harry's hand where he'd squeezed too hard. He also knew that there was no point in apologising because Harry would likely just roll his eyes and make some sort of sarcastic comment, starting another petty argument which they couldn't exactly solve with sex right now. He didn't think he'd been so uninterested in sex since before he started puberty.

He held Harry's hand tighter and nuzzled into his face. "I was just a bit too tired to stay awake. I'm here now."

Green eyes opened as Harry pulled back a little, a radiant smile on his face. "We're all good now, so there's no point in worrying any more." He paused before cocking his head slightly. "Did you hear the sex before you passed out?" he asked, gesturing towards the cot with his head.

Regulus shook his head. He's been far too out of it to think what those annoying Healers were saying while his body was celebrating the end to hours worth of pain.

Harry's eyes wrinkled in the corners with his goofy grin. "I see. Do you finally want to meet our child, then?

"Do you want to hold our son?"

Regulus' breath caught even as he nodded reflexively. He had a son. It wasn't that he thought this child was more important than his daughters – he honestly thought that patriarchy was a load of bollocks; as if women weren't as deserving or as capable as men, if not more – it was more of a case that this was going to be something new. Not to mention that this child was one that he'd carried himself. It was one thing to know that you were pregnant, but seeing a child in person was another thing entirely. It was bewildering.

As Harry gently scooped up the infant in his arms, Regulus could feel his heart thundering in his heart. His family had grown again, and he would have never known that this was even something that he wanted if it weren't for the brilliant man in front of him. Thanks to Harry, he had three children. He had three children. All with someone he genuinely loved.

It sounded cliché, but he truly felt like the luckiest man alive.

He moved his arms so that he could cradle the tiny body, small and warm and soft and just perfect. His son was wrapped in a thick cream blanket, a warm white onesie underneath. There was a little hat on his head, white with tiny cat ears stitched on top that were ridiculously adorable. (Regulus knew that the hat had been chosen by Carina and Lyra, the twins in complete agreement that any sibling of theirs would also like Kneazles, whether they wanted to or not.

Their attitude was hysterical. Touching, but hysterical.)

The baby's face matched Regulus' like the girls, however he could see faint hints of Harry in the small nose and the shape of the eyes. His little frown also matched his other father, and Regulus couldn't help but laugh at the sight. There was a little crease between fine brows that went perfectly with the tiny pout on those rosy lips. Their son was perfect.

He lifted the soft hat to inspect the baby's hair, noticing that his son also had his curls like his older sisters. Despite Harry's hair being a literal nightmare to deal with on a good day, Regulus couldn't help but want at least one of their children to inherit the dreaded mop. Their children might be Blacks, but Regulus didn't want Harry to be so absent from their children's features. Perhaps it was a little sappy, but after the day he'd just had, he was bloody well entitled to think what he wanted.

Harry carefully perched on the edge of the bed and leaned back, turning on his side so he could wrap one arm around Regulus while the other stroked their son's soft cheek. "Do you still want to use the name we picked?"

Regulus mused that they'd saved a lot of hassle this time by choosing a unisex name, though that method probably wouldn't work with any future children. Finding just one name that could be used for a boy or a girl had been a nightmare, let alone if they tried to do it again.

Either way, they did have a name prepared. One that hadn't been used in recent history. Basically a new name for the family tree.

He hummed quietly. "I would. That is, if you don't mind."

Harry kissed him quickly and smiled when he pulled away. "Why would I? I would like my choice for a middle name though."

"You're an idiot," Regulus snorted, rolling his eyes in exasperation. What a man I married.

"It is tradition," Harry shrugged unrepentantly.

"Whatever." He peered down at the pouting form and felt his lips twitch, his heart clench with love. He was never going to allow himself be a parent like his mother had been.

Regulus allowed one of his fingers to be gripped by a tiny hand and grinned. "Welcome to the world, little one.

"Welcome to the family, Rigel Regulus Black."

He leaned back against Harry without taking his gaze off of Rigel, their son sleeping with a little scowl on his face that was as endearing as it was hilarious. The family are going to love you, Rigel, no matter what.

As will we, he thought as Harry kissed his cheek.

He was truly blessed.

Harry wondered if Arcturus was going to give in any time soon and become a full-time alcoholic. It certainly looked to be heading that way.

The man was probably regretting his decision to leave his self-imposed exile in France and rejoin his family in Britain right about now. The stress was practically visible at this point, and the lovely gathering that Melania had thrown all of her time and effort into clearly wasn't doing old Lord Black any help. Oh, well. I'm sure he'll be fine.

Then again, Harry could certainly understand his pained expression. Intimately.

Having so many bloody people inside Black Manor – so many violent and vindictive people – all at the same time was a terrible idea. Truly awful. The amount of individuals who didn't like each other, or legitimately hated one another, was far too high for the atmosphere to be truly comfortable for anyone. Adding all of the vulnerable children and overprotective parents into the nix was just asking for the next wizarding war to erupt at any moment. (He knew he should have convinced Regulus to spend the whole day in bed.)

So, here he was, too tense in his seat after Arcturus had walked off in stressed despair, leaving Harry to keep one eye on his husband and Rigel – the girls thankfully with Melania at the moment – and the other on the imminent storm that was Cassiopeia Black and Lucretia Prewett. The two cousins – or whatever they were thanks to the fucking mess that was the Black family tree – were apparently having a disagreement of sorts about something that Harry didn't give a shit about, and were mere seconds away from flinging hexes around the parlour.

Harry was not amused.

He and Regulus had tried to find a quiet room in which to soothe Rigel's latest crying fit – and have a quick snog or two – before the two crazy witches had appeared out of nowhere, already embroiled in what seemed to be the latest bitchfest in their decades-long feud. (Seeing as the two witches were the same exact age and had both been in Slytherin together, and were also close to seventy, Harry had a newfound appreciation for Arcturus' continued sanity.)

Either way, he was getting the fuck out of here right now. Even Alphard in the midst of his current sappiness was better than this shit. He caught Regulus' eye and nodded towards the door silently, lips quirking at the filthy glare that his husband shot the two women. The couple quietly gathered Rigel's things and stood up, quickly strolling out the room without looking back. Considering the witches didn't even notice them leaving, Harry thought they'd escaped at the optimum time. It wouldn't surprise him if a duel broke out soon. He wished Arcturus luck in dealing with his family.

"Merlin, I don't know how Aunt Callidora dealt with them," Regulus muttered with a huff.

"Oh?"

"Mm. She's also the same age as them, and was in Slytherin with them. I'm shocked she didn't smother them in their sleep."

Harry snorted a laugh. "I don't know, she seems like the type to have drawn out her revenge over a good few years instead."

"Perhaps," Regulus conceded with a grin. "From what I've heard, she certainly put her children's spouses through hell before she agreed to the marriages. They're still wary of her, over a decade later."

He snickered quietly, easily imagining the intimidating woman terrifying those wanting to marry her precious children. It was a rather entertaining image, truth be told.

The two turned a corner and entered a room with a far different atmosphere than the last one, no doubt thanks to the abundance of children running around. The large hall was loud, messy, and so far removed from the picture-perfect image that others usually had of the House of Black that Harry had to shake his head. It was astounding how people thought that private and public lives would be identical. Idiots, the lot of them.

Melania was sat in one corner, showing off a few different magical flowers to a group of enraptured toddlers. Carina and Lyra had been joined by Alexander, Azalea and Draco as usual, and as usual, the two boys were sat a healthy distance away from the twins to Harry's eternal amusement. Even more hilarious was how Draco and Alexander seemed to be becoming fast friends, much to the consternation of Lucius and Sirius, both men looking to have swallowed a lemon at the sight of their sons happily babbling to one another. Harry was so saving this memory to watch again later.

Orion was sat with Arcturus a little further away, the latter drinking something that did not look like the tea everyone else had. Maybe he should go on holiday soon. He looks like he could do with one. Harry shook off his musing and turned to the ridiculously endearing sight of Honorine hovering over her children as they walked around on their unsteady feet, looks of intense concentration of their chubby faces. Meissa and Cepheus had started walking a little earlier than expected and were clearly taking advantage of their newfound skill to give their parents as many heart attacks as possible. Or so Regulus had told him with an evil grin on his face after a visit to Orion. That look was very attractive on his husband.

Needless to say, they hadn't gotten much done that day.

On the far side of the room were the older children, Marius' oldest grandchild Phoebe Black, her sister Rhea, and a pink-haired spitfire by the name of Nymphadora Tonks. Harry couldn't stop his grin at the sight of the hyperactive ten-year-old. It was a bizarre sight to see the child version of a woman that had been a professional Auror, someone tutored by Alastor Moody, even.

He could admit that it soothed something in him to see her so innocent and just alive. This was a woman that had named Harry as her son's godfather and had treated him as something of a little brother whenever they'd met, had been as optimistic as possible despite how shitty the world had become around them. Watching the little girl laugh uproariously and turn her hair sunshine yellow was amazing to see.

It was also hilarious to see her interact with Remus here, because it was too fucking weird when he compared his lives. Harry had been happy for the couple before, because they'd deserved to find as much happiness as possible in the war. As two consenting adults, Harry had thought that they could – and should – do whatever the fuck they wanted, and everyone else could piss off.

Now, Remus was already a husband and a father, and knew Tonks as his husband's cousin, and considering Sirius treated the Metamorphmagus as something of a little sister, so did Remus. It was kind of amazing how a few little differences could change their lives so much. It was also hilarious, because he could very easily imagine Remus' horrified face if he was ever told the truth. God, that would be brilliant.

"Do I even want to know why you've got that look on your face?"

Harry turned to see an unimpressed look levelled at him and grinned, leaning in so nobody could hear him speak. "Just imagining what Remus would look like if he knew who he married last time around."

Regulus' lips twitched. "You're an awful twat, aren't you?"

"How rude. I'm a funny twat, thank you very much."

Grey eyes shone with amusement as his husband laughed at him, and Harry grinned in response. He loved getting his other half to loosen up; it was always an entertaining sight.

Harry turned back to the room at large and made his way over to group consisting of new babies and parents, trying not to roll his eyes at the visible tension between Ted and Lucius. He would have thought that a few years of being brought together into the fold of House Black would have done something to improve their relationship, but apparently the in-laws just couldn't get along. Whether it was simply their personalities or something else, the two men were as bad as toddlers whenever they were in the vicinity of the other. Such a shame.

For everyone else, that is, because it was fucking hilarious to Harry.

"Harry, Regulus! Come introduce your son to his newest cousins!"

Yet again, Alphard Black was a moron. Well, perhaps 'still' was a more appropriate descriptor. Still a moron, now and forever. It sounded much more truthful.

"Hello, Alphard. Everyone," Harry nodded at the others, carefully taking Rigel so that Regulus could have some breathing time. They sat down on the free sofa, one of four around a small table that was covered in all manner of baby-related paraphernalia. Across from Harry and Regulus were Alphard and Ianthe, and the other sofas contained Narcissa, Andromeda and their spouses. As always. Because god forbid they even sit close together. Bloody children.

And, of course, were the newest additions to House Black, all of whom were being angelically quiet for once, laying in their parents' arms silently as they slept completely unaware of anything and everything around them

Altair Black, Aquila Malfoy, and Nikostratos Tonks.

Firstly, Alphard's son looked far too cute and innocent to be his. Seriously, the boy was gorgeous, and well-behaved, and generally everything his dumbass sire wasn't. It was baffling. Secondly, Lucius still looked dazed and out of his depth at having a daughter, and Harry thought that him being thrown so far out of his comfort zone was the most perfect bout of karma ever. And thirdly, why the ever-loving fuck was Andromeda allowed to name her children? The woman had no concept of what was normal, nor what her kids would think of their own names later on, especially at school. Kids were nasty, and 'Nymphadora' and 'Nikostratos' were just asking for trouble.

Visually, the kids were an interesting mix. Rigel and Altair were so obviously Blacks, though Rigel still had a semi-permanent scowl while his uncle's son had a cherubic face that belied his parentage. Little Aquila was her mother's daughter through and through, with the only hint of her Malfoy heritage in her blonde hair that leaned more towards silver-blonde than Narcissa's platinum tone. Finally, baby Nik – because the poor brat deserved a normal nickname at the very least – was a complete bloody unknown, as Andromeda had repeated history once more by birthing another Metamorphmagus.

The boy currently sported dark red hair that was far more normal than what could have been, and from what Harry could see of his face, he too had the Black facial features like his sister. For the moment, at least, because Merlin only knew when his infant magic would flare up and change his appearance once more.

"Harry!"

He turned around in his seat just in time to see a small form stop in front of him, grinning up into his face with the same smile that Harry saw in the mirror.

"Marcus. Are you having fun?"

His little adopted brother beamed at him and nodded furiously, his messy hair shaking with the force of the movement. "Yeah! Me and Di and Hal are playing dragons!"

Harry grinned back at the enthusiastic grey eyes and ruffled Marcus' hair, his expression softening into a gentle smile at the boy's token protest. His baby brother was far too cute to be Charlus' son.

The time traveller shifted his gaze to the other six-year-olds. The younger twin brother and sister of Phoebe and Rhea – and seriously, how where there so many sets of twins being born in the family? It didn't make sense – were the fraternal twins Dione and Halimede, both of whom had inherited Marius' thick curls and silver eyes.

The group of three had become fast friends and were now thick as thieves. Harry knew that Dorea had become immensely relieved at this fact, having been worried that Marcus would be rather lonely as an only child. The woman would have had another child, but it had taken her years to conceive as it was, not to mention that Marcus' birth had been horrible for her body. (Harry hadn't been told much else, but it didn't take a genius to piece together that Dorea couldn't have any more kids.)

After a hasty farewell from the three crazy children, they ran off with their toy wands that were currently shooting red sparks that imitated fire, screaming and roaring as they did. They were literally a mixture of Charlie's love for dragons, Fred and George's sneakiness, Tonks' hyperactive energy, and Melania's warm happiness.

Dumbledore wouldn't know what hit him when they went to Hogwarts.

"I wish I had that much energy," mused Alphard quietly. Really, he's just asking for it now, isn't he?

Harry snorted. "Maybe you would if you weren't so old."

"I'm mature!"

"Old. The word you're looking for is 'old'."

Alphard scoffed with an offended look on his face. "I'm not old, you little shit. Besides, I think it's obvious that I've got enough energy in reserve. After all, I did manage to kno –"

"Hadrian, do you mind if I talk to you in private for a moment?" Narcissa cut in with a bright smile, looking so perfectly serene in contrast to the atmosphere around them.

You didn't have to be a genius to realise that Alphard had nearly blurted out something entirely inappropriate for public conversation. Considering the man had been looking at baby Altair with a hint of smug pride, not to mention the growing rage in Ianthe's eyes, Alphard Black had closely avoided that disaster.

But not entirely, because that woman looked pissed.

Lucius stood up gracefully and straightened out his robes. "I'm going to check on Draco while you do that, Narcissa." The man bent down to press a chaste kiss to his wife's cheek, bemusedly stroke his second child's downy hair, and then strode over to the mass of toddlers without a second glance back. That was the smoothest and most graceful escape I've ever seen. Kudos, Lucy.

"I'm afraid that Rigel needs changing," was all Harry got before his lovely – and oh-so-intelligent – husband was gone from the potential blast radius that was Ianthe Black's fury. His quick thinking was astounding. If Narcissa hadn't given him his own out, Harry would have been immensely jealous. As it was, he just smiled at the retreating form of Regulus. What a lucky man I am.

"What is she doing?"

Harry blinked and saw Andromeda drag her husband away towards Tonks, conveniently carrying her son at the same time in order to escape the situation with her whole family in tow. Sneaky woman. I wonder if she knows something about Ianthe that the rest of us don't. (A surreptitious glance at the woman in question only told him that her rage was growing, not what she would do with it. He was a little morbidly curious about the results of her current mood, to be honest. It'd be amazing, no doubt.)

He spun back around, ignoring the extremely pale and frozen Alphard as he did, and pasted a bland smile on his face. "Shall we, Narcissa?"

The blonde smiled gently at him, even though he could spot a glint of well-hidden amusement in her blue eyes. The woman took his offered hand and stood up carefully, holding her daughter securely to her chest as she rose gracefully. Harry helped her wrap Aquila in her sling more securely, then the two of them strolled out of the room arm-in-arm, chatting inanely about the manor while they walked.

"Did you know that these carpets come from eighteenth-century Persia? The Zand dynasty, more specifically."

"I didn't," Harry admitted. "I know that the Blacks have collected a lot of antiques over the centuries, but history has never been my strong suit, unfortunately. I often found my books sleep-inducing whenever I studied the subject."

Narcissa laughed lightly. "As did I, until Aunt Cassiopeia pointed me towards some which suited me much more." At Harry's disbelieving look she smirked slightly, the expression bringing out the Black in her more than any sneaky scheme ever would. "I'm well aware of my aunt's faults, Hadrian, however that also means that I'm aware of her strengths. She's more than capable when she puts her mind towards education and assisting others. I can give you the names of some titles if you'd like?"

"I'd like that," Harry replied with a smile. And he would. Besides him having an actual interest in history, the book would likely provide some great stories for Carina and Lyra. The girls were in love with adventure stories, and the glint they'd often get in their eyes made Harry wonder if he'd actually given birth to two miniature versions of a female Indiana Jones.

(That might sound ridiculous, but he wasn't the sort of person to discount any possibility, no matter how strange. His life was far too weird as it was.)

The two of them eventually found a small bench outside settled next to a small fountain and ostensibly hidden beneath a massive weeping willow. Harry couldn't help but notice that the tree was the perfect place from which to spy and eavesdrop on people. If he were so inclined. You know, if he did shit like that. Not that he would ever do something so immoral and underhanded. He'd never been a bad person in that way. Nope. Not ever. He was a good boy.

(Somewhere, somehow, he knew that his version of Snape was rolling in his grave and having a massive fit in his afterlife.)

Harry leaned his head back and stared at the sky in the gaps between the leaves, randomly picking out shapes like he did with his daughters. It was a great method of learning.

"So, what did you want to talk about? I'm guessing it wasn't just an excuse to abandon Alphard to his very deserved retribution."

A tiny – yet ever so wicked – smirk made its way onto his companion's face, her perfectly dignified visage wavering just the slightest at the thought of her uncle's upcoming tongue-lashing. Not that he was any less excited, but that wasn't exactly the point. I hope Melania's watching so I can see the memory later on. Alphard deserves whatever he gets, dumb shit that he is.

"You would be correct in that assumption, Hadrian. While my uncle might be rather deserving of whatever Ianthe deigns to carry out, I am much more interested in speaking with you at the current time." Blue eyes were fixed on her daughter and Harry could see them visibly soften, a sight which made him feel rather grateful. Narcissa Malfoy was a reserved woman at the best of time, and Harry didn't doubt for a second that there were very few people that had ever seen her when she was just a mother. Harry felt rather blessed to be one of those few.

Her blue eyes met him once more and Harry returned her smile before she opened her mouth. "I understand that this is similar to our conversation just after Draco was born, but I would like you to at least consider my request in full before answering.

"I've asked Andi to be Aquila's godmother. The two of us are getting along much better, and she's a more open female influence that I would like for my daughter. As for a godfather, I was originally going to ask one of Lucius' kin, however I'm not exactly … fond of those men." Harry coughed under his breath and Narcissa mock glared at him before huffing lightly. "Well, I'm sure that you understand what I mean. Either way, my daughter will not be having a Malfoy godfather.

"I would like you to be my daughter's godfather, if you're amenable."

Harry blinked rapidly, wondering if he'd really heard what he thought he had. Narcissa Malfoy, wife to Lucius, daughter-in-law to Abraxas, was asking him to be Aquila's godfather. Him. This was crazy. Truly mental. Fucking weird. How many ways can I even explain this?

He supposed it could make sense because he was married to the future Heir Black, the eventual Lord of the House, but Harry knew that he himself was something of a disaster person when it came to private – and serious – affairs. Mostly because he couldn't bring himself to give a shit about others' opinions when it didn't impact his life in any way, shape or form.

Anyway, it seemed that his blonde friend had decided to inject some levity into her daughter's life, because else why else would Narcissa bloody Malfoy ask him to do this? She wasn't stupid in any way, meaning that she knew full well what she was asking of him. Not that he was thinking about declining, he was just confused. Excited – because then he could eventually teach her to be a little shit just for her dear old dad – but mostly confused.

Harry cleared his throat. "You sure you don't want someone a bit more serious? I know what I'm like, and I really don't give a crap about acting like a perfect pure-blood. That's Regulus, not me."

"I know," she admitted with a smirk. "That's my point, though. With Draco, I might have asked Regulus to be his godfather, but he is married to you. My cousin has lost a lot of the tension he carried when he was younger; your presence has done wonders for him. I asked Regulus exactly because he isn't as uptight as he once more, not to mention that you would have been involved with my son also. I love Lucius, but his father was a very strict disciplinarian. Too strict, if you ask me. I want my son to be happy. The same for my daughter.

"Will you accept?"

He flicked his eyes from mother to daughter, feeling an inner warmth at how lovely the two looked together. (That girl was going to be a heartbreaker when she grew up, no doubt about it. He almost pitied Lucius.)

Harry took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Are you sure you don't want a better role model for your daughter?"

Narcissa's eyes sparkled as she smiled. "I don't think I could find one if I tried."

He resisted the urge to snort and instead rolled his eyes before peering over at the infant who'd just woken up, almost as if she was sensing that she was the topic of conversation.

"Well, that's sorted then. Here, why don't you meet her?"

And with that, Harry found himself with an armful of baby Malfoy. He adjusted his arms, holding her carefully against his chest as she wiggled and fussed, clearly not happy with waking up. Harry could relate. Aquila was smaller than even Carina and Lyra had been, even with the twins having been premature. Her silver-blonde hair looked to have a few waves that probably came from Narcissa's father, and the dainty face in front of him would likely grow into a carbon copy of her mother's heart-shaped one as she grew. Pale skin mirrored both of her parents, and she currently sported baby blue eyes that could really go either way at this point. Any colour would match her colouring seeing as she was so beautiful. Not as beautiful as his children, but Harry knew that was just parental bias. Bias that he would swear by until his dying day, but bias nonetheless.

He reached out to poke a finger at Aquila's soft hand, grinning when a tiny hand reached back and wrapped surprisingly strong fingers around his. Her other hand waved around for a few seconds before latching on to the front of his shirt and holding tight. Apparently proud of her actions and satisfied for now, Aquila simply stopped moving and closed her eyes, drifting off back to sleep with a speed that made his adult self extraordinarily jealous. If only I could turn my mind off that quickly.

"It seems that she and I are in complete agreement."

Harry turned to the side at the soft murmur and smiled at his friend, once more marvelling over how different this life was. No Voldemort, a husband and children, and now he was godfather to Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy's daughter. And here I thought the time travel itself was the weirdest fucking thing about this life.

He hadn't thought that he'd ever be here, but he wasn't stupid enough not to grab any happiness while he could. He deserved to be a little selfish for once. Besides, Aquila was fucking adorable, and this way Rigel could have another playmate his own age as they grew up.

Green eyes met blue and Harry grinned. "I think I'll enjoy this godfather thing."

Narcissa's entire countenance lit up and she smiled beatifically. "As do I."

Before they could discuss things further, Pollux came ambling out the house with a red face and a few tears in his eyes. If it weren't for the maniacal grin on his face, Harry would have thought that the man was distraught. In this case, it seemed as if the man was trying not to start laughing hysterically again – as he no doubt already had been – as he caught sight of them and brightened up.

"Harry! Cissa! Enjoying the summer sunshine, are we?"

Narcissa huffed quietly, a small smile playing about her lips. "Grandfather, it's not summer yet."

Pollux waved a hand around vaguely as if to banish the woman's thoughts. "It's June tomorrow, my dear granddaughter. We're practically in summer already anyway, what with the real sun in the sky for once."

"You're not wrong," Harry conceded with a hum. "It's weirdly nice for once. I keep expecting the rain to come pelting down on us at any second." It had been really shit weather recently. He turned back to Pollux with a raised brow, noticing how the man was still grinning like a loon. "So, what's got you looking like all your prayers have been answered in the best way possible?"

The man laughed loudly for a few seconds before it tapered off into quiet chortling. "My son's a prized fool, that's what. His wife might have been born a Greengrass, but she's as vicious as any Black. Seeing as Alphard was going to joke about getting her pregnant, Ianthe decided to make sure he wouldn't be able to joke about it for a while.

"For the next month, he'll be impotent."

Harry was torn between howling with laughter and wincing in horror. While it was hilarious – and not that important for Ianthe because she was still recovering from giving birth – Alphard was going to be miserable for the next month. Well, unless he figured just why some men liked being on the receiving end during sex. He'd be alright then. Still, that woman was brutal. Harry hoped his lovely husband would never deprive himself by doing that to Harry. It would be a horrible month. Just the idea of it made Harry want to banish the entire thought. Preferably by dragging Regulus back to their bedroom and spending the whole day shagging each other's brains out. (It was the perfect incentive in case Harry ever put his foot in his mouth in the future.)

"Perhaps this time he'll learn to think with his other head."

He gasped in exaggerated shock, turning to his female companion with a gaping mouth. "Narcissa! That was entirely too inappropriate for a lady such as you! Not to mention that we're talking about your own uncle. Have you no sympathy for the poor man?"

"Not particularly. Am I wrong?"

"Nowhere near," Harry retorted with a grin, an expression that widened as Pollux's booming laughter started again, echoing around the calm garden without restraint.

Aquila made a sound of annoyance and opened her eyes, the blue colour locking with his own green. Harry smiled as she squeezed his finger again, eyes following his other fingers as they fluttered around her face.

"Your family's a bit mad, Aquila, but we all love you. You, and Rigel, and all of the kids. You're going to grow up with people all around you, and you're going to be a strong witch, aren't you?

"You're my favourite goddaughter, you know?"

Aquila let out a quiet babble and reached up to his face with a look of awe on his face. She was too cute.

Three children, and now a godchild of his own. How did he get to be so blessed?

Harry looked up to see Regulus make his way out of the manor with Rigel in his arms, Carina and Lyra running around his legs as they did. He made eye contact with his husband and smiled widely, heart thumping at the look of love in Regulus' eyes.

Maybe blessings were real, after all.

A/N: Hello again!

Halle-fucking-lujah. That is all I can say right now. I have struggled so much with this chapter, and I really can't say why. I think I was just burnt out from work, and then the longer this chapter got pushed back, the more it messed with my mental state. It was awful. And then I sprained my wrist and couldn't type, and then I was doing night shifts ...

Basically, my life sucks. That's it.

For those of you who've been waiting for nearly nine months for an update, thank you so much for sticking with me. I really appreciate it. Like, I don't think I can really explain just how grateful I am for your kind reviews and whatnot, especially because I don't remember getting any shitty demands for an update. Which is a nice surprise, but sad that it should even be a surprise to begin with.

Another thing which I should mention - and I can't believe I forgot to mention last time - is that there are a bunch of family trees on my deviantart for this series (my account is anime-otaku20). I'm pretty sure I actually added them the same day I updated last, I was just a bit of a melt and completely forgot to say anything about them.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and sleep, because I've been falling asleep on my laptop for about four hours now, and the only reason I finished this godforsaken chapter was sheer tenacity.

Hopefully the next chapter will be out before next winter lol

See ya!