Work Text:
As he looked down at Honoria, something inside him felt like it was breaking again.
Sirius Orion Black inhaled gingerly, forcing himself to keep walking through the pain. In the seconds it took to get to his daughter, a dozen thoughts ran through his head—each more horrible than the one before.
He couldn’t stand the thought of his precious child being hurt.
As soon as his mark disappeared then started shifting, understanding and a marrow-deep dread dawned on him. He lost his blood brother; his leader and his best friend.
For a moment, his senses had staggered as his brain acknowledged what his heart refused to admit he was actually seeing.
He lost the man who took him under his wing, accepted him; faults and all and introduced him to the Underworld.
Fortunately, Antonin was there while he struggled to design a plan.
He gave his surroundings a cursory glance and returned his attention to the flourishing fields partially shielding the expansive mansion at the very centre from view.
It stood there as if the encompassing nature had embraced it, that the flora flowed within it as much as around it.
He heard stories from Antonin about his sister; Irina Dolohova Krum. Raised in the brutally cold Siberian Mountains before they relocated to Saint Petersburg, she was thrilled when Dragomir settled on Sofia to take care of the Bratva business in the Balkan Peninsula. The Russian princess seemed quite fond of her plants.
“Pafoo?” Honoria tilted her head, her lids still heavy with sleep.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead tenderly. “I’ll get you to bed soon, Prongslet.”
Cautiously he stepped in front of the gate. He sensed the moment the wards wavered, granting him passage.
He cuddled Honoria against his shoulder and spoke in soothing undertones to her. Gradually, she relaxed. It pleased him how attentive she was to his voice.
A tiny, dimpled hand reached to his jaw, exploring the bristled surface and he kissed the miniature fingers. Tears stung his eyes as he remembered how much James had loved his daughter.
Often he would tuck her in the crook of his arm and parade her before the trusted members of the Syndicate as if a child was a lovely miracle none of them had ever seen before. He thought her prodigiously clever for learning a new word, for doing bursts of accidental magic or simply for making adorable sounds and doing all the things that babies usually did…except that in his opinion, his daughter did them far better.
How would his love ever compete with that?
Would he make a good father and honour his promise?
“What a beautiful girl you have.” A solemn voice greeted in accented English.
Irina Dolohova Romanova Krum was a tall and graceful woman with Antonin’s piercing icy blue eyes. Unlike him, though, she had strawberry-blond hair.
She watched the exchange with radiant features, her smile gentle and welcoming.
“Thank you.” His voice came hoarse and raw.
“Please, come inside. We don’t want Honoria to catch a cold,” Dragomir Krum, a tall man with bottomless dark eyes, gestured toward the foyer. “We prepared a wing for you and the child as soon as Antonin sent a message. We are sorry for your loss, Sirius. Lord Potter was a respected man and a promising Head. It saddens me that we lost him way too soon.”
Sirius felt at a loss of how to respond to that. There were so few words with which he could express or comfort himself…so little time he had spent together with the only family he knew. Along with the sadness came a gloomy sense of deprivation…and beneath that, a simmering ocean of anger.
Did James have to keep the charade and join the thrice-blasted Order of the Phoenix?
Did he have to hand over his hiding place to the stinky rat?
Aware that his thoughts were drifting dangerously toward a storm he might not be able to contain at the moment, he closed his eyes and let out a shaking breath.
“Sirius…” Irina murmured with a touch of concern. “I know you need some time alone to…grieve. Let’s put Honoria to bed first.”
“I apologize,” he nodded letting his gaze flicker to Honoria’s angelic face. He pulled her hood back in place and snuggled the coat more closely around her neck.
Dragomir clasped his shoulder firmly. “Follow me. You won’t regret reaching out to us. You have my word.”
The vow offered him some peace even though he knew he was sinking into a thick, smothering abyss of darkness.
The wretched pain would never go away but Sirius understood that he had Honoria to take care of. He could not surrender and succumb to the Black Madness. His daughter was his anchor and he would rather die than dishonor his vow.
He whispered his agreement raspily and followed after Dragomir and Irina. A new page of his future was about to be written and for all that was holy, he prayed that the Fates would have mercy on them.
Either way, it didn’t matter. A Black never went down without a fight.
তততততততততততততত
The giggles of a baby rang through the mansion as she babbled nonsense he couldn’t understand.
Viktor jumped on his toy broom and soared through the corridors until he reached the wing his mother prepared for their guests.
Broom clutched tightly in his hand, he made little noise as he crept toward the nursery. He didn’t want to startle Lord Black or worse yet, the baby.
'His new sister,' his mother said. A small grin lifted his lips at the reminder.
He had always wanted to have a sibling. Even though his uncle Dmitri visited often and brought Yuri along whenever he did, it was never enough. His cousin was too loud and frisky for his liking, not to mention his tendency to break his favourite toys.
Fearing that Lord Black would blame him for Honoria’s fretfulness, he peeked through the open door before he entered the room.
Tentatively, he walked toward the gilded crib and gazed down. He was startled by the shining green eyes looking at him curiously.
They were so pretty.
“Hello Honoria,” he said in heavily accented English. His mother had started teaching him English and Russian a year ago. He was glad he hadn’t minded much. He was certain that his sister did not understand Bulgarian. He would gladly teach her as soon as she started talking properly.
“Ho you?” she tilted her head to the side, clutching the black dog plushie closer to her chest.
He watched with awe and curiosity as her gaze swept over to the broom in his hand.
Slowly she loosened her grip on the plush and lifted her hand. Viktor gasped when his broom zoomed and landed on her waiting hand. She giggled when he groaned. “Not another broom-thief.”
“Sief!” she chortled.
Viktor lowered his finger slowly and let it linger over her chubby cheek. “So you admit you are a thief?”
She giggled and clutched the broom closer to her chest. “I am Viktor by the way.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully.
“Vik!” Her face lit with a smile of delight.
His parents called him Vitya but he reckoned he could deal with Vik too.
“Yes. I’m Vik and you are…”
“Ria!” she exclaimed.
“Well, hello Ria,” he laughed when she lifted her arms, urging him to bring her out of the crib. “Maybe I should ask your father for permission first?”
“No, Ria out!” she pouted and made a face.
“Er…” he bit his lower lip and looked around.
He couldn’t stand the crestfallen face she was making so, impulsively, he caught her in his arms.
The weight was a bit too much for him so he crushed her to his chest and inhaled her baby scent.
It was too soft and reminded him of his mother’s garden.
“Hello sister,” he whispered against her hair.
She drew her head back and grinned toothily up at him.
Dark eyes met twinkling green ones in a moment both would remember for a lifetime. “’llo Vik!”
