Chapter Text
"You have to empty your mind. Breathe in and out, slowly, with purpose. Feel the breath going in and out of your nose, cold then warm. Feel the magic inside of you, right here." He took her hand and placed it to her sternum, where her magical core lay.
The little girl squirmed a bit in his lap. "I feel it, Baba."
Regulus kissed the top of her head and smiled. "That's good, habibti. If you practice meditation like this daily, you'll have such a strong mind. And you'll learn to control that magic inside of you."
Grey eyes blinked up at him, wide with curiosity and admiration. "Then I'll be just like you?"
"You'll be even better than me, Adara."
The six-year-old frowned, as if what he was saying was unfathomable. Suddenly, she uncrossed her legs and clambered out of his lap, stumbling as she did. "I'm hungry," she announced, hands grabbing onto Regulus's shoulders for purchase.
"Dinner's in 10 minutes," he responded, kissing her cheek.
She crinkled her nose in the way that never failed to remind him of his brother. "I'm hungry right now."
He raised an eyebrow. " Sabr, my love. What does that mean?"
Biting the inside of her cheek, she thought for a moment before answering, "Patience. En-dur‐ance."
He nodded and stroked her hair. "Yes. Ten minutes until dinner. You may go play with your toys whilst you wait."
Her eyes lit up and she nodded. "Okay, Baba!"
"Slowly up the stairs!" he called out as she raced further into Grimmauld Place. Regulus shook his head and smiled fondly after his daughter.
***
On an evening of bittersweet nostalgia and aggrieved regret, Regulus goes to the countryside.
"Could you keep her for the night?" Adara is eight now, and she's quite an easy child to look after. Regulus has no qualms about leaving her with this man — in fact, he thinks it would do him good.
"Of course," Remus responds as he takes Adara's hand, "Are you… finally going then?"
"I have to see him for myself," Regulus responds, leaning down to kiss his daughter goodbye for the night, "For my peace of mind. And yours too."
The werewolf swallows hard and nods. "I do hope he's alright. It's—day after tomorrow's his birthday. The fifth I'll be missing."
His eyes are so full of shame, sorrow and something Regulus can identify with — deep and aching grief. He has no choice but to look away.
"I'll be back to pick her up tomorrow afternoon, at the latest. Be good for your Uncle Remus, habibti. I'll see you soon."
When the door is closed, he apparates away and transforms into his other form. The sun has yet to set but he's not noticeable in this form, so he perches himself on a tree branch from where he has a perfect view into the house and yard, and he watches for the Boy Who Lived.
***
"Young Mr. Black. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Oh," he chuckled darkly, grey-blue eyes blazing with fury, "I can assure you, Albus, this is not going to be pleasant for either of us."
The smile does not falter on Albus Dumbledore's face, but the old wizard raises his eyebrows. "What is it that you've come here for?"
"Where is the boy?" Regulus asks, "Harry Potter. Where is he?"
"His mother's relatives," the Headmaster answers easily, "I believe I've already explained this before. The protection—"
"Yes, of his mother's sacrifice," he fills in impatiently, "And I take it, all things considered, that you've been checking up on the boy?"
"Of course. He's in quite good hands."
"Good hands?" Regulus repeats, blinking, "You sit back and let this boy be abused in a home he is clearly unwanted in. You let a child grow up thinking he's worth nothing more than a mat on which people walk?"
"Abuse is rather an overstatement, Regulus," Dumbledore says in that voice, that damned calm voice, as if not discussing a topic such as this.
"Overstatement? I went to see him for myself." This makes Dumbledore's smile falter, at least. "Living in a cupboard meant for cleaning supplies? Bruised and malnourished? Treated as a House Elf of an old Pureblood family? You don't call that abuse?"
"It is for his own good, he—"
"Oh, spare me the lecture, Headmaster. There is nothing that could possibly justify leaving him there. I cannot stand for this."
"And what of Lord Voldemort, might I ask?" Dumbledore counters, "Would you rather the boy be dead at his hands? What do you propose we do about that?"
"Have you not thought, even for a second, that the child would grow bitter and resentful of those Muggle relatives? Not thought that, perhaps, upon entering the Wizarding World, he would not come to hate all Muggles? Have you not thought that you may just be creating another Dark Lord, Albus?" Regulus argues, "And what then? When the only one to defeat the Dark Lord becomes one himself?"
Albus remains silent at this for a moment. "I suppose you have a point. But it is for the greater good that—"
"The greater good." Regulus scoffs. "That's just it then, isn't it? The end justifies the means. And what would happen, perchance, if the Wizarding World found out that their beloved Boy Who Lived was being mistreated by Muggles? And that you were fully aware of it?"
He wasn't sorted into Slytherin for nothing.
"And you think they would believe a Death Eater?"
"Reformed Death Eater," he corrects lightly, "Besides, they can get proof for themselves. All I need to do is tip them off. Anonymously even."
"There's no other way to keep the boy safe, Mr. Black," the old man says quietly.
"Let me take him," Regulus says suddenly, "You know my house is unreachable. Under Fidelius. With myself as the only Secret Keeper. You know I cannot fall back with the Dark Lord without being killed for my betrayal. I'll raise him alongside my daughter."
"I cannot make this decision rashly." Dumbledore strokes his beard in thought. "I'll be in contact with you, Mr. Black."
Regulus knows this is a dismissal, but he doesn't take it. "If the boy is not with me by tomorrow, I'll go get him myself. With or without your permission."
He walks towards the floo and then spares a glance to his old Headmaster. "Do you not think of James and Lily? If I'd died in the war, and Adara was left as Harry is now… Don't let their sacrifice be in vain. Perhaps you can't fathom what a parent feels for their child but let me tell you this — I would burn the whole world down to keep Adara safe."
The next morning, Regulus is greeted with a letter from Dumbledore, expressing permission for him to go and pick Harry up and take him home with him.
Regulus dresses in Muggle clothes because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself. He tells Kreacher to prepare the room next to Adara's and to watch over the girl for about two hours.
"When I get home," he explains to her, "I'm going to have someone with me. A little boy, two years younger than you are."
"So he's… six?"
Regulus nods. "Yes. I need you to be very kind to this boy, Adara. He's been through a lot. The people he lives with don't treat him very well. Do you understand?"
Adara's head tilts, questioning. "Are you going to save him, Baba?"
He laughs softly and responds, "Sort of. He's going to live here with us from now, okay?"
Her eyes light up. "He'll be like my brother? What's his name?"
"Harry Potter."
When Regulus reaches 4 Privet Drive, he knocks on the door and is greeted with the sight of a slim faced woman with a sickly sweet smile on her face.
"Hello," he says politely, though he'd like to hex this woman to oblivion, "I'm here in regards to your nephew."
Her smile drops immediately and a ugly sneer replaces it. "I'm afraid I don't have a nephew."
Regulus sighs. "I'd rather you cooperated with me. I'm not the type of person you'd like to piss off."
"You're one of them, aren't you?" She hisses, "Those freaks like my dead sister."
"I just want to see the boy," he says slowly, as a warning, "And we can be done with this rather quickly. I don't have time to deal with Muggles who don't have a sense of decency."
"Vernon!" The woman shrieks towards the house, "This freakshow won't leave our home!"
"Oh, darling." Regulus, having grown up the way he did, has mastered the art of condescension. "I don't think you want to do that."
A look of disgust makes its way to Regulus's face when a large, sneering man, if Regulus can even call him that, comes up behind Petunia. "You. What the hell do you want?"
"Gods, is your wife incapable of comprehension? Does she not speak English very well? I'm here for Harry Potter. That is all."
"What do you want with him?" The ugly man growls, "That boy has made enough trouble to last a lifetime."
"He's six years old," Regulus drawls, "If he's caused you that much trouble, you can't be very good parents."
"How dare you?" His round face turns red. "We never wanted that little son of a bitch. Only thing he's good for is cleaning and cooking."
"You have a child cooking for you?" he scoffs. "You're more incapable than I thought, my Gods."
"I'll call the police on you—"
"Oh, woe me, I'm terrified of your Muggle law enforcement. Have you forgotten that I'm, what was the lovely name you said, a freakshow."
"Let's just get the boy, Vernon," the woman finally says.
"Potter!" Vernon yells, "Get here, now!"
A little boy comes scampering to the door and, oh, Regulus's heart just aches. He's much too small for his age, much too thin, with too much fear in his bright green eyes. He's so much of his parents, the messy black hair of James and the bright eyes of Lily.
Regulus's breath catches when he takes in the oh-so-famous lightning bolt scar. When he pictured it in his head, he thought it would be a simple jagged line on the boy's forehead but he realises now how wrong he was.
The scar looks like a physical bolt of lightning, branching out from the top of his forehead, down through his eye and ending around the middle of his cheek. Where the scar cuts through his eye, lines of white stand bold against the natural green of his irises. It's breathtaking.
"Hello, Harry," he says, leaning down and sticking his hand out for the boy to shake, "My name is Regulus Black."
"H-Hello, Mr. Black." His voice is so soft, so subdued, and his hand is so tiny in the man's.
"I was a friend of your Mum and Dad," he says, not entirely truthfully but not a blatant lie either, "I've come to ask you if you'd like to come home with me."
The boy's eyes widen and flood with tears. "F-For how long?" He looks up at Petunia and Vernon and they still have ugly frowns on their faces. "M-May I go?"
"Till you're all grown up, and even after that," Regulus explains, "Forget what your aunt and uncle want. I want to know if you'd like to come?"
Shyly, he nods and mimics the smile on Regulus's face. "Yes, Mister. I want to."
Regulus stands and reaches his arms out to Harry, maintaining eye contact with the boy. "May I?"
Harry lets Regulus pick him up, only wrapping his arms and legs around him when instructed. Regulus strokes his hair and gently guides his head to rest on his shoulder.
"Where are his belongings?" Regulus asks, raising his eyebrows.
"Belongings?" Vernon scoffs, "He has no belongings."
The wizard shakes his head and turns to leave. At the last second he turns back, ignoring Vernon to look directly at Petunia. "You should be utterly ashamed of yourself. Lily, may she rest in peace, had a heart of gold. And she never would have done to your boy what you did to hers. I hope you never forget that."
Petunia's face shutters and she swallows hard. Regulus wonders if that was regret he caught a glimpse of before Vernon is slamming the door in his face.
"You okay, sweetheart?" Regulus asks Harry, gently rubbing the child's back. "Ready to go?"
"Yes," he murmurs, voice muffled by Regulus's sweater.
"Your tummy's going to feel a little tingly in a moment, alright?"
"Okay."
Regulus apparates straight to Grimmauld Place, into the living room.
"Baba!" Adara's voice rings out and Harry flinches in his arms.
"Inside voice please, habibti," Regulus tells her as she runs into the room, eyes shining with excitement and holding her toys in her hands.
"Sorry," she stage-whispers then turns to Harry, "Hi, Harry! I'm Adara. I'm gonna be your new big sister."
"Would you like to go down?" Regulus asks and Harry shakes his head. Regulus kneels down with Harry still in his arms so that he can see Adara properly.
Harry peers up to take a glance at Adara and the little girl gasps, moving forward to touch his scar. Harry flinches back once again but relaxes at her gentle fingers tracing their way down his cheek.
"Woah," she breathes in amazement, "That's so cool!"
Harry's eyes brighten and he preens at the praise, a shadow of a smile making its way to his face.
"Would you like to play with me?" Adara asks, showing her dragon figurine to him, "You can have the strongest dragon."
"I-I… you let me use your toy?" Harry asks, wonder in his voice, "No hitting?"
Regulus's heart stutters but he chooses not to intervene. Adara's face grows somber and she shakes her head quickly, "Never hitting. Baba says that if you're angry, you should leave the room before you say or do something bad."
"Oh," Harry breathes, as if the concept is completely foreign to him which, Regulus supposes, it is.
"Would you like to go down now?" Regulus asks again, patient and attentive.
Harry nods shyly, biting on the end of his thumb.
Regulus moves to remove the finger and Harry startles, pulling it away fast, wide eyed, and blurting out, "I'm sorry! Sorry, I won't do it 'gain, 'm sorry. Please don't lock me up."
The hatred for those Muggles grows stronger and stronger every moment. "That's okay, sweetheart. I just want you to know that it's not very good for your teeth, okay? You did nothing wrong."
Harry doesn't say anything, but he nods slowly. Regulus puts him down to let him play with Adara.
"Come on," Adara says as she takes Harry's hand in hers, "We can play upstairs in my room, there's more toys there. You can use anything you'd like. And your room is right next to mine!"
"My room?" Harry repeats, and Regulus remembers where the Muggles had him sleeping in their home.
"Your room," Regulus confirms, "I'll show it to you after lunch. Both of you come down for food in a half hour, okay?"
"Yes, Baba!" Adara responds before running out, dragging Harry behind her.
Regulus sighs and tells Kreacher to start preparing dinner for three.
When they sit down for dinner, Regulus dishes out for Harry first, then Adara, then himself. Harry stares down at the plate but does not move to eat.
"Harry? Is something the matter? Is it something you're allergic to? Or is the food not to your liking?" Regulus asks.
"This is… for me?" he asks, still staring down at the plate.
Regulus sets his cutlery down and moves to Harry's side who shrinks under his gaze. Regulus kneels down by his side and slowly, gently reaches out for Harry's hand.
"You don't have to be afraid here, Harry. You don't have to cook or clean to earn your place here. If there's something you need or want, you may ask me. You will not be punished for making mistakes. I'm here to take care of you."
Harry's eyes glisten with tears as he nods his head, taking in the words. Regulus smiles and kisses the top of his head, saying, "Eat your food now, sweetheart. I have a surprise for you when you're done."
After a few bites of food, Harry speaks up, "Um, M-Mister? My tummy hurts, I‐I don't know if I can eat more."
"Baba says it's not good to waste food," Adara says grimly.
"Oh no, Harry, love, that's not your fault!" Regulus intervenes when he sees Harry's face fall, "Adara, Harry's body needs to adapt to eating the right amount of food. Kreacher will have his share, alright? It won't go to waste."
"What's adapt?" she asks.
"To get used to something," he explains, then turns to Harry, "Tomorrow, we'll go to the doctor, okay? Have a checkup done for your tummy and anything else that might trouble you."
Regulus hopes that since Harry is still young, any later side effects of childhood malnutrition can be countered with some potions.
He wonders for a second if it would be best to hold off on the surprise for later as Harry may not be up for it right now but he shakes his head. Harry's birthday is today and should be celebrated accordingly.
After the food is cleared from the table, Kreacher apparates into the room with a large crack that makes Harry jump. The little boy stares at the House Elf with wide, curious eyes.
"Kreacher," Regulus says, "This is Harry Potter. He's the boy who'll be staying with us."
"It is being an honour to serve Master's ward," Kreacher responds with a bow towards Harry.
"H-Hello," Harry says softly, his voice filled with amazement.
With a snap of Kreacher's fingers, a birthday cake appears on the dining table, six candles lit up.
Adara and Regulus start singing 'Happy Birthday' and when they get to the, "Happy birthday, dear Harry", the boy in question's lips part in surprise and he points a small finger to himself.
"It's—My birthday? I never know I had a birthday."
"Silly!" Adara exclaims, "Everyone has a birthday. It's your special day, just for you."
"This is for you, Harry." Regulus hands him a present wrapped neatly in sparkling silver paper with a bow sat atop.
"A present for me?" he whispers, excitement filling his voice, "Really?"
"Really," the man confirms, "Open it, love."
Harry carefully opens the wrapping paper with a bit of help from Adara and when the lid of the box comes off, a small gasp leaves his mouth. "Woah."
He pulls out the stuffed wolf and runs his small hands all over it. "It's soft," he says with a giggle, "And its eyes are like the moon."
"You have to name it!" Adara tells him.
"Um," Harry looks at her and tilts his head, "Can you help me?"
The girl pouts her lips and scrunches her eyebrows; her thinking face, as Regulus knows. "Well, you said its eyes are like the moon so… maybe you can name him… Moony?"
Regulus's breath catches at the name. He remembers it all too well; the loud ring of his brother's voice calling to his friends, James' fond tone, shaking his head in exasperation, gazing upon one Remus Lupin.
"Okay," Harry agrees readily, "Then I'll call you Moony."
"A fitting name," Regulus comments lightly.
Green eyes meet his, sparkling with joy. It was a much better look on him. "Thank you, Mister."
He smiles and nods. "It's not necessary to be so formal, Harry. You may call me Regulus, or Uncle Regulus, or simply Reg if that's easier."
"Okay."
Adara is practically vibrating in her seat as she waits to give Harry the birthday present she prepared for him in the morning. It's a lot smaller and wrapped very haphazardly in a baby blue coloured wrapping paper with an extremely neat bow on top that Regulus can only assume Kreacher helped her with.
"I made this for you, Harry!" Adara says excitedly as she pushes it toward him. He smiles brightly again and doesn't even register the box and wrapping paper disappearing from in front of him.
"Thank you!" He returns with as much enthusiasm as he gets. Despite the messy wrapping, he still takes his time to take it apart carefully and when he pulls the braided leather bracelet out of the box, he looks to Adara, "You made this?"
Adara nods proudly. "I did!" She pulls up her sleeve and shows him her matching one, "See! I have one too. And so does Baba and Uncle Remus. Everyone in our family has one! That's why I made you one. 'Cause you're our family too now."
Adara helps him clip on the bracelet with careful fingers and smiles when it turns yellow.
"That means you're happy!" She says excitedly, "Kreacher helped me do that charm 'cause I'm not old enough to do magic on my own yet."
"Magic?" Harry asks, eyebrows scrunching in confusion.
Adara gasps. "You don't know magic?" She turns to her father. "Baba, Baba, please can I show Harry the charm that makes things all sparkly? Please."
With a sigh, Regulus gives a small nod and Adara squeals loudly in excitement. "But," he says quickly, "You are not to point my wand at any living thing, understood?"
Adara nods fast and jumps out of her seat, helping Harry out of his and dragging him out of the room. Regulus doesn't say anything about the fact that his wand is in his own pocket.
Later, Adara comes to him with Harry semi-hiding behind her shyly. "Baba, can Harry sleep in my room tonight please?"
Regulus, of course, agrees and for the next couple of years, Harry's own bed goes unused.
***
The first time Harry calls Regulus 'Baba', his heart actually skips a beat for a moment.
Harry and Adara are playing in her room when Harry suddenly asks, "What does 'Baba' mean?"
Adara thinks for a moment before she replies. "Well. 'Baba' is a person who… protects you. Someone who teaches you and tells you when you make a mistake. 'Baba' is someone who will love and care for you no matter what you do, forever and ever. And a Baba doesn't care if you're pretty or smart or irritating or a Squib, he just wants you to be happy and healthy."
"Oh," Harry responds with wonder, "And Uncle Reg is a Baba?"
She nods fast and smiles. "He's the bestest Baba in the whole world."
"I wish I had a Baba," he murmurs, biting at his thumb.
Adara gently pulls his hand away. "You do. He's your Baba too. He loves you un-con-di-tion-ly."
"What does that mean?"
"It means he loves you forever and ever no matter what."
In the few months Harry has been with them, Regulus got Harry glasses so he could see better, gave him Potions to help him feel better and make him stronger, bought him a wardrobe full of new, well-fitted clothes, taught him how to read and write, taught him about magic and the Wizarding World, taught him about patience and learning from his mistakes and sharing and respect and confidence.
Regulus never made Harry feel like he wasn't welcome. He never raised his voice or laid a hand on either child, always treating them with respect and care.
Yes, little Harry thinks, he is my Baba then. He must be.
That evening, when Regulus tucks them into bed, he kisses Adara's cheek and murmurs, "Goodnight, habibti."
"Night, Baba. Love you."
"Love you too." Then to Harry's side, presses a kiss to his forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart."
"Goodnight, Baba," he murmurs sleepily.
Regulus exhales sharply, caught off guard. He smiles then, eyes watering a bit. "I love you," he says, even though Harry is probably not going to hear him.
But Harry does and he returns a soft, "I love you too."
***
Regulus begins renovations on Grimmauld Place the year Adara turns nine and Harry turns seven. He's wanted to do it for a while but raising children has never been an easy task, especially not alone.
He strips the walls of their wretched wallpaper and covers them with a brightening shade of cream. He brings in a Cursebreaker for the attic and basement and gets rid of the medieval-looking furniture around the house.
He lets the children help him pick out the colour schemes and eventually they settle on neutral, earthy tones with shades of sage green for some colour.
When he finishes a few months later in time for the Winter Holidays, the place is completely unrecognisable, as confirmed by Remus's reaction.
"Shit," the man in question says as he steps through the door and into the main foyer, "It looks brilliant. How did you do all of this?"
Regulus chuckles. "Magic."
Regulus has never really celebrated Christmas nor Yule and he doesn't really have any intention of starting. Adara has always loved the lights strung up at this time of the year and he can't help but indulge her by letting her decorate their home with strings of fairy lights around the sitting room.
Regulus also knows that Remus does celebrate Christmas so he makes it a point to invite the man over for dinner every year. This would be the second one having Harry with them.
The two men watch as Adara and Harry fly the training brooms around the backyard, lounging on the soft chairs with their tea.
"You ought to tell him," Regulus says suddenly, casting Remus a glace.
"Tell him what?" Remus responds in a way that makes Regulus know that he knows.
Regulus scoffs lightly. "He needs all the family he can get. He deserves to know what you were—are—to him."
"Were," he corrects, "I can't be what I was supposed to be for him. Wasn't that the issue in the first place? I have no legal claim to him. I couldn't even be his godfather."
"Still. He should know. He still thinks that Lily and James were a happy married couple, you know. Because that's what everyone keeps telling him."
"I can't do that to him," Remus mumbles, eyes glued to where Harry is, smiling brightly, "How could I tell him that he has a father when I can't be that for him? I can't live with him, I can't raise him as my own. If Jamie were still here…"
"I know," he responds quietly, "Everything would be different, had things gone differently that night."
Silence settles between them before Regulus breaks it once more.
"When he's a bit older," he says, "You should tell him. He'll understand. James wouldn't want him to not know you for who you are. You're not just Uncle Remus to him."
"When he's older," Remus amends, and that's the end of that conversation for a while. "You're doing really well with them, though. They're growing up so well."
"I can't believe it's already been two years since Harry's come to live with us." His mind floods with nostalgia, thinking back on the months passed. "Two more and Adara's off to Hogwarts. I'm almost afraid to let her go."
"She is your little girl," he agrees with a nod, "But she always will be. And she's going to do great things. She's already so in control of her magic, thanks to you."
His face heats up as he shakes his head. "It's all her."
Remus huffs out a laugh but doesn't argue.
"Don't know what I'm going to do when both of them are at Hogwarts," Regulus confesses quietly, "I've been a full-time parent since the War ended. I don't… know how to be anything else. Do anything else. First it was Adara as a baby, then a toddler, then when Harry came along, it was teaching him to read, getting his health back in order, the exercises from the Mind Healer."
"All this time, they've been my first priority. It wasn't easy, but it was rewarding. And it… kept me busy. It's going to be dreadful, sending them off."
"You'll be okay," Remus says sincerely, like he really, truly believes it, "You could always, you know, do things for yourself. When was the last time you did something for you rather than for them?"
"I… Don't know…"
Chuckling, he nods. "Exactly. You'll have some time to yourself then. You could take up some hobbies, get a job if you'd like. You were always brilliant at Potions."
"Thanks," Regulus says softly and it occurs to him, suddenly, how thankful he is to have Remus in his life.
He doesn't have any other adult friends, all things considered. He's in contact with his cousin Andromeda but she's a lot older than he is, and all the friends he had in school ended up in Azkaban or hating him for being a traitor to the Dark Lord.
Narcissa, bless her, still writes to Regulus. Her son is the same age as Harry but Lucius would never approve of them being close — Harry and Draco or Narcissa and Regulus. So he keeps his distance to spare her any trouble in her marriage.
Remus has been there for a long time. Ever since Regulus defected. Then the whole thing with Sirius… The war brought them together but in the aftermath, when Regulus was left with only Adara and Remus left with just the wolf inside, Regulus kept making excuses to see him.
A new potion, Regulus said, to help with the transformation.
Too expensive, Remus responded.
Let me. Please. After everything my family's done…
No, I could never…
For me. Consider it my own revenge. My parents would've hated it; using their fortune for this.
Remus sighed, as if he knew exactly what Regulus was doing. I… Okay. Okay. Thank you.
And then Regulus would go over every month to drop the Wolfsbane off, oftentimes taking Adara with and spending some time there. Then monthly visits became fortnightly, then Regulus would invite him over, then invite him out. Eventually they settled into a steady friendship that remained strong till today.
Regulus is pulled from his thoughts when Harry comes bounding towards them, crashing right into Remus. He looks toward the older man knowingly and Remus just shakes his head, turning his attention to Harry.
***
Harry cries for an hour when Adara leaves for Hogwarts. He denies this with absolute resolution when he's older but Regulus is there when it happens and he is the one comforting his nine-year-old boy.
"Why does she have to go?" Harry asks in a broken voice, "Why, Baba?"
"She's going to learn magic, hayati," Regulus explains, "And you'll be going soon too. Just two more years and you'll be with her."
"But I don't want to leave you," the boy responds, pressing his face to Regulus's chest, "Why can't I learn magic with you?"
"As much as I don't want you to leave, you're going to have such a good time at Hogwarts. You can play Quidditch on a proper team, you'll make so many new friends, and you can still come home for the holidays, hm?"
Harry contemplates this for a few moments before nodding solemnly with a sigh. "Okay. I guess I'll go."
Regulus just laughs and kisses his cheek to which he protests loudly, complaining that he's too old for all that stuff.
When Adara returns home for Winter holidays, she asks Regulus a question that makes him physically stumble over his own feet.
"Baba, what's a bastard?" she asks before dinner while Harry is taking a shower.
Regulus chokes on his spit and coughs loudly. "What? Where did you hear that word?"
Adara gives him a curious look and tilts her head. "Well, on my first day, Professor Snape said that I was Sirius's bastard child, but I don't know who Sirius is, and I don't know what bastard means. It didn't sound very nice though, the way he said it."
The man's grey-blue eyes narrow in irritation. "And what did you say to him?"
"I said that I was your daughter and then he was like, 'Didn't know Regulus has a bastard'."
Scoffing, Regulus shakes his head in anger. "I'd like to have a few words with that man. Who does he think he is?"
"What does it mean though? It's something bad, right? You can tell me." She looks up at him with her wide grey eyes.
He sighs and answers, "It means a child who's born out of wedlock. A lot of people find it improper."
Adara makes a noise of understanding. "Ahhh. So it just means that you weren't married to the person who gave birth to me?"
"Exactly." He pulls her closer and leans down to look her in the eye. "But that doesn't mean anything, you understand that, right? It doesn't make you any less. You're still my daughter."
She shrugs. "I know. I've still won Slytherin the most points so I think he likes me."
"I could not care less about Severus Snape liking you; he had no right to say what he did."
"It's not a big deal," she murmurs, toying with her hands, "Don't say anything, okay? He can be really mean to the other students. I don't want him to do that to me."
Till today, Regulus still can't comprehend how and why Dumbledore would allow Snape to teach children. A political move, he doesn't doubt, but harmful nonetheless.
"I won't say anything this time," Regulus amends, "But if something happens again, I want you to tell me. It's not right of him to treat his students that way, especially not First Years."
After a moment of silence, Adara nods stiffly. "Okay."
"Why don't you go and sit down for dinner so long while I go check on Harry?" Regulus moves to go upstairs but Adara's voice stops him.
"Wait!" she calls, "Baba, who's Sirius? Why did Professor Snape think I was their child?"
Regulus's breath caught in his throat. How do you tell a child that she looks exactly like her criminal uncle? How do you tell a child that she has the same dark curls, the same grey eyes, the same mannerisms as a man currently serving a life sentence in Azkaban?
He doesn't have an answer so Regulus just shakes his head. "Not today, habibti. Please."
Sensing her father's hesitation and discomfort, she drops the subject and the name 'Sirius' is not spoken again till she's fifteen.