Chapter Text
June 20th 1980, 06:47, a star is born.
June 22nd 1980, 11:09, said star shows up on a befuddled Regulus Black's doorstep.
Rather,
Nine months (and two days) after a night of celebration, alcohol, and unprotected sex with a girl he had found attractive at the bar, Regulus Black is left to raise his daughter on his own, with no idea of who the mother might be.
PROLOGUE
Saying Regulus Black is perplexed doesn’t even begin to cover it.
His brain is working overtime trying to figure out who on earth left a baby—an actual baby—on his doorstep. The kid’s bundled up in a clearly second hand cotton blanket, tucked inside a picnic basket like some twisted fairy tale. No note. No explanation. No “I’m sorry, I can’t do this” letter. Not even a name.
Whoever dropped the baby off didn’t want to be found. That much is obvious.
Just a few minutes ago, Regulus had been enjoying what he thought would be a rare, peaceful morning. No work. No emergencies. He’d kicked his feet up with a hot cup of tea and the Daily Prophet, taking full advantage of the quiet. Ever since he became an Auror—right after finishing at Hogwarts—mornings like this were practically extinct. With the recent attack on the Potters and a new wave of Death Eater activity stirring, downtime was a luxury.
But clearly, it wasn’t meant to last.
The banging on his door was loud and frantic, and Regulus was instantly on alert. He grabbed his wand without thinking—no one was taking chances these days. Not after what happened to James and Lily. Even living in the middle of Central London didn’t guarantee safety.
He checked the peephole. No one there.
Still cautious, he opened the door. Nothing.
He was about to chalk it up to some Muggle kids playing a prank when his foot knocked against something. He looked down—and froze.
A baby. Just lying there, swaddled and sleeping in a basket.
Regulus stood there staring, completely stunned, until the baby let out a wail that pulled him out of his shock. He quickly scooped up the basket and brought it inside, locking the door behind him.
Panic started creeping in. He had no idea what he was doing. He wasn’t exactly the “parenting type.” He could barely remember to feed himself on some days. Now he was bouncing a crying baby in his arms, frantically checking the basket for any sort of clue—anything to explain why this had landed in his lap. But there was nothing. No instructions, no backstory, not even a hint of who the baby was or where they came from.
Eventually the baby calmed down. Regulus—still not sure if the baby was a boy or a girl—gently set them back in the basket and slumped onto the couch. His tea was cold now. The paper lay forgotten. And his brain wouldn’t stop spinning.
And then it hit him.
Just over nine months ago, right after he’d landed the Auror job, he and a few Slytherin friends had gone out to celebrate. Some club in the West End. One too many drinks. A girl with a pretty smile. They went back to his place, and by the next morning, she was gone. He hadn’t even caught her name. Honestly, he hadn’t thought about her since.
But now… here was this baby. And Regulus couldn’t ignore the timing—or the eyes staring up at him that looked way too much like his own.
He called a Muggle clinic and booked a paternity test, just to be sure.
And yeah—she was his.
Regulus Black had a daughter.
And even though he felt completely unprepared, even though the idea of raising a child scared the hell out of him… he knew he couldn’t just turn away. That baby had no one else. And somehow, some way, he’d figure it out.