Work Text:
“Let me brush your hair, Pumpkin.” Sirius said, pulling Minerva back towards him where he sat on one of the sofas in the living room; the soft fabric of her pyjama bottoms against the hard wood floor as she knelt at the coffee table made this easier. She had wanted to sit in the Drawing Room — “it’s for drawing, Daddy!” — but Sirius hated that room. Of course, he and Marlene had purged it of all the dark and dangerous objects, but they hadn’t been able to do anything about that god-awful tapestry on the wall. The Living Room opposite was hardly much better, but it was slightly more bearable, so that was the room he had taken to encouraging his daughter to use.
“Daddy, I’m colouring!” She protested, reaching out for the coffee table, but she was now too far away to grab hold. Sirius pulled down the hood of her fluffy dressing gown.
“You can colour after. Either I brush your hair or Mummy does when she gets home from work, and you complain that she pulls.”
Minerva huffed but leant back against Sirius’s legs. “She does pull.”
Sirius smiled slightly, finding it hard not to enjoy the fact that he was their daughter’s favourite, at least for most things, and ran the hairbrush gently through her wet hair. As gust of wind rattled the windows, the front door slammed. There was a crash and Marlene swore loudly from the floor below.
“Minerva, sweetheart, did you and Kreacher put the umbrella stand back after you finished playing with it?” He asked, already knowing the answer. His daughter looked up at him, a guilty expression on her face.
“Uh oh.” Minerva breathed as his mother’s portrait began to scream her usual abuse of blood traitors and filth. Sirius rolled his eyes, there wouldn’t have been need for an uh oh if she and that bloody elf had tidied up after their tea party or whatever game they’d been playing. “Close the curtains, Daddy.” Minerva ordered, scooting forwards in the direction of her colouring book.
“Nice try.” Sirius said, pulling her back to him and picking the brush back up as the portrait fell silent. Minerva huffed again, as though this was the biggest inconvenience of her young life.
“You’ve gone so soft.” Marlene smiled, leaning against the door frame, and rubbing her knee. Sirius looked up at her, about to protest, but who was he kidding? She was right.
“Mummy!” Minerva said jumping up and running to Marlene, wrapping her arms around her mother’s legs. Marlene winced but returned their daughter’s hug.
“Have you had a good day?” Marlene asked her.
“Yeah! Me and Daddy went to the park this morning, and then this afternoon I had a tea party with Kreacher. I wanted him to wear my tutu but he started crying.”
Marlene caught Sirius’s eye and they grinned at each other. The elf had become incredibly attached to Minerva, he’d probably thought that she was trying to expel him from the home.
“Well, please can you help Kreacher tidy up the mess you made, and then why don’t you pick out a book for me to read when I put you to bed?” Marlene suggested.
They listened to Minerva’s footsteps as she ran down the landing calling out Kreacher’s name in a very loud whisper and Marlene flopped down onto the sofa beside him.
“How was work?” He asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Mad-eye working you too hard?”
“He’s fine, we finally arrested Richard Hartley. He put up quite the fight.” She said rubbing her arm. “It’s fine, all healed up.” She added quickly when he reached out for it to check. He knew that she could handle herself, she’d proved that more than enough times with the Order… and before, but he still worried. “Did you get your article finished?”
“It’s getting there.” Sirius yawned, though really he was barely halfway through. “I hate to admit that Kreacher is a help but he is, keeping Minerva occupied for a few hours a day so I can make some progress.”
“I’m sure the editor of Transfiguration Today is on the edge of his seat waiting for it.” Marlene teased. They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Sirius listened to Marlene’s steady breathing as she rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ve been thinking,” she finally murmured, shifting to sit against the other arm so that she could look at him. “Shall we have another baby?”
Sirius snorted. “Well, no wonder you got hurt. You were distracted by the thought of getting me into bed.”
“I know, it’s a miracle I ever get anything done.” Marlene said dryly, but her pink cheeks had betrayed her. “I’m serious though.”
“No, I’m Sirius.” He grinned, unable to resist the temptation.
“I hate you so much.” She said, kicking out at his leg.
“I hate you too.”
“I want this one, Mummy!” Minerva said, holding up a very old and battered copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Sirius had no idea where she’d found it.
“Okay sweetheart.” Marlene said, getting up. “Give Daddy a kiss goodnight.” Minerva threw herself at Sirius and kissed his cheek. He held her tight for a moment before releasing her.
“Night night, Pumpkin.” He smiled.
“Think about it, alright?” Marlene said, before shooing their daughter out of the room. Sirius stared after her. He and never even considered that they might have a second child someday. He loved Minerva completely, but she’d been an accident; he’d never intended on having a child at all. He hardly thought it fair to risk passing on all his problems, or to inflict himself, onto a child. Anyway, the name Black was supposed to have died with him. But then Minerva had arrived, and she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. How was he supposed to find room in his heart to love someone like he loved the daughter he already had, to ever risk loving Minerva any less than he did right now? His own parents had never loved him like they had loved Regulus. It paralysed him with fear to think that — however unintentionally — Minerva might one day feel like he had.
Then again, as far as he knew, Marlene’s parents had loved all three of their children equally. Her childhood had been so full, and so happy, that she struggled to really understand his own.
“It might be nice for Minerva to have a sibling.” Marlene said, and Sirius jumped, unaware that she’d returned.
“Didn’t you fight constantly with Jeremy and Nicole? And look at me and Regulus…” Sirius trailed off, it hurt to talk about Regulus when he’d failed him so colossally.
“Not constantly, but we fought a lot. I wouldn’t trade them for the world though.” Marlene shrugged, dropping down beside him again. “James was so lonely when I wasn’t around. I don’t want Minerva to have no one but us and Kreacher to talk to… I want her to have a sibling to play with, and yeah, to fight with.”
“What if I make her feel—” Sirius broke off, she wouldn’t understand. She would pretend that she did, but she wouldn’t. Not really. “As soon as my parents realised how perfect their darling Regulus was, I didn’t stand a chance.”
“You are not your parents.” Marlene said sharply. “They wanted you to be something terrible, and I’m so relieved that you turned out different from that.” She rubbed her thumb soothingly over his stubbled chin. “If we have another baby, it doesn’t mean that you’re going to love Minerva any less.”
“I suppose.” Sirius murmured, not entirely convinced. “What brought all this on?”
“Minerva asked me last weekend why she doesn’t have any brothers or sisters.” Marlene sighed. “It was just curiosity, it didn’t sound like it was upsetting her.” She added quickly, catching the worried look on his face. “How about, we stop actively trying not to have another baby.” Marlene suggested. “That way, if it happens it happens, and if it doesn’t, Minerva was just meant to be an only child.”
Sirius thought about this for a moment, he supposed they could leave it up to fate.
***
It hadn’t taken long for fate to make the decision for them. Marlene had fallen pregnant again with two months of their conversation. Sirius had hoped that she would have an easier pregnancy this time around. She had promised not to take the risks she had while she was pregnant with Minerva, she’d even willingly confined herself to the Auror office and left raids and arrests to her colleagues. So Sirius couldn’t understand how she’d become so ill that she had to spend the last few weeks of her pregnancy in St Mungo’s. The healers assured him that she would be fine, but they wanted to keep her in just to make sure.
Sirius had initially been bringing Minerva to visit her, but the sight of her mother in hospital looking so tired and unwell upset her so much that he’d had to stop. He had missed her terribly, he didn’t like leaving their daughter with Kreacher. His friends stepped in as often as they could to babysit while he visited, but there was little they could do about the emptiness of Marlene’s side of the bed each night.
Cassandra Nicole Black had been born on her due date — which was far better for Sirius’s blood pressure than Minerva’s arrival a month early — perfectly healthy. She was perfect.
“She looks like you.” Sirius said softly, glancing up at Marlene who was watching him sleepily.
“I should hope so.” Marlene said. “I’d be furious if both our daughters looked like you.”
Sirius stretched out one of Cassandra’s legs, they were so long. Marlene was all leg too.
“Do you love her? Do you feel like you love Minerva any less now?” Marlene grinned, clearly already knowing the answer.
“You were right.” He said, rolling his eyes, she’d never be satisfied until he said it.
“I’m always right.” Marlene shrugged. “Am I terrible for hoping that we’d have a boy this time? A little Alphard.”
“You’re not terrible. I’m happy with two girls though. Girls are nice.” Sirius smiled down at his new daughter. His girls were perfect.
“Good, because two is enough. I’m never doing that again.” Marlene said, holding out her arms for the baby. “Why don’t you go and fetch Minerva? I’m sure she’s bouncing off the walls with excitement waiting to meet her.”
Sirius reluctantly handed Cassandra back to Marlene, he hadn’t been quite ready to let her go. “I won’t be long.” He said, placing a soft kiss on her lips.
“I love you.” Marlene breathed against the kiss.
Sirius paused at the door, watching Marlene run her thumb gently over Cassandra’s little cheek. He had everything he would ever need.