Chapter Text
“Is there no other way?” James asked, holding Harry to his chest as his infant son wriggled happily in his hold, much like a well loved eel. Lily could not even look at them, her head in her hands, sobbing.
For his part, Albus Dumbledore looked deeply sorrowful, his head bowed and his hands clasped in front of him. “I am sorry,” he said lowly, “but your son has been marked by Voldemort himself, as a prophesized threat to his power. He must not gain access to Harry.”
“My son hasn’t been in my arms for six months, and you’re taking him from me!” Lily wept inconsolably.
James looked to the side, into the kitchen. “How sure of this are you?”
At the kitchen island, Severus Snape looked up from where he was brewing a calming draught for Lily. “Very sure. You may verify the incident wherein I heard the prophecy with the headmaster. Drink,” he said, handing a vial of the soft blue potion to Lily. “You cannot make this decision without your full mind.”
“He- your- Voldemort,” Lily spat venomously, “marked my son for death! On your word!”
Snape bowed his head. “I was a fool, seeking to curry favour. If I had known that he would target you, then I would have never-“
‘You would have condemned another-!”
“Yes,” Snape cut in brutally. “Another. But not you. I will keep you safe, and your child. Potter, by extension. You may curse my name, cut me out of your life. Do as you wish. But you cannot dictate my love for you, as I have always done, since we were children together.”
James turned to the other man in the room. “Is he coming on to my wife?”
“I don’t think so,” Sirius muttered, shooting hateful glances at his nemesis. “I think he’s just being emotional. The git,” he added out of habit.
Meanwhile, Lily was still raging. “Your plan to keep me safe is to separate me from my son?”
“The dark lord cannot know that he is not with you,” Snape reiterated. “We will take him away. Raise him in the countryside, or on the continent. Where, precisely, is that insipid werewolf of yours from?” Snape demanded of James.
“Er. Wales,” James said.
“Brilliant. Give the child to him, and he will raise it amongst sheep and cattle. Every moon, we shall take the child, and no one shall be the wiser.”
“Remus is just as much of a target as anyone,” Albus sighed. “He is a werewolf who has been fighting for us, he is a known player. While his personality is well matched for child-rearing, he cannot be involved.
“Furthermore, Harry must be made untouchable. That is to say, attacking him should result in severe backlash - social, political, economical. That is the only way Voldemort would not come after him, if it involves compromising his power base.”
“A pure blood family, then?” James asked. “The Longbottoms?”
“They have long since declared their stance against Voldemort, and are active fighters, as are the Bones, the Diggorys, and the MacMillians. We are not left with many trustworthy families that fit that profile, except-“
Sirius’ eyes widened as Dumbledore turned to him. He let out a thin, feminine, wail and crumpled onto the sofa. “Me!”
“Yes, Sirius. You.”
“Oh!” Sirius cried, and leaned back dramatically againstvthe back fo the sofa. Severus wondered whether this manner of operatic drama was commonplace for Gryffindors.
“You, as a scion of House Black-“
“Disowned, and gladly so-!”
“-still retain the standing in the Old Blood-“
“-shall gladly do away with all my wealth and finery-“
“-and are in a prime position to claim Harry.”
“-so I shall fling myself into a ditch- did you say take Harry?” Sirius asked ceasing his dramatics.
Albus looked severely at him. “As a son of the living Lord of House Black, you are untouchable. Your father never struck your from his will, and for all that you are independent now, your status as a main line Black remains. If you claim Harry as yours, you will give him the protection of the Old Blood, and the Black Family Majicks, should the blood rituals take hold.”
“You want me to blood adopt Harry?” Sirius asked incredulously. “Aren’t you always on about blood magic being dark?”
“Intention matters,” Albus said. “Your heart is pure-“
“Where is the sick bucket, I am feeling ill-“ Snape mumbled, and Lily smacked him.
“-and I believe that this is the best chance that we have. To protect Harry. To protect a family.”
“By adding him to mine,” Sirius marveled. “My accursed family. Do you not think that they would come after him, if they know-“
“And why would they?” Albus asked. “He will be yours, once you share blood. Yours, already, in matters of the heart. Yours, by magic, once the ritual takes-“
“If it takes!” Sirius cried. “How do you know it will?” He could not take it if it didn’t, he did not say.
James did not have to hear the words to know Sirius’ mind. “It will,” he confirmed softly. “I know it will. Who else? Who better?”
“Actually, Severus offered himself, but I did not think it wise,” Albus said cheerfully, and everyone looked in great surprise at the dour young man imitating a pillar. “So! It is settled! Shall we move matters along?”
Severus drew out a long, thin, ritual knife nestled in parts unknown. “No time like the present.”
***
Sirius walked home that night simultaneously several ounces lighter from the blood loss (Snape had stabbed a tad deep), and with some extra pounds of his godson in his arms.
Tomorrow, Sirius would go to Diagon Alley and take Harry with him, ostensibly to shop for baby supplies, and make a fuss. The world would know that Sirius Black had a child.
In two week’s time, James and Lily Potter would mourn the loss of their child, and have a headstone made for the tiny casket that contained a dead gnome. Snape had provided a pre-stabbed gnome.
The babies would have overlapped. No one would suspect a thing.
Harry Potter would die, aged six months. Hadrian Black, aged eight months and small for his age bracket, name changed to honour his foster brother that he knew only briefly, would be Sirius’ son with the third Bellafonte daughter, from his sojourn to France.
Edwina Bellafonte, a sickly young woman, had coincidentally died in childbirth herself, secretly trying to mask the birth of her own illegitimate child from a tryst. Her child had died in utero, though her womb, now cold, held no traces of it - a nifty bit of magic from a thoroughly skeeved out Dumbledore and a mortician that he had dated and parted from rather amicably in the past.
The gnome’s funeral was in two weeks, and Sirius had to prepare to look upset and morose. He jiggled Harry in his arms, who giggled happily. “Hey bug,” Sirius cooed. “You’re safe now, see? I guess I’m dada now, just like you have papa and mama back home.”
In a few weeks, Lily and James would go into hiding under the Fidelius. The news that they would choose a secret keeper who was not aware of the plans was a sound one. Dumbledore was constantly in the field, and was thus exposed. If he fell, the fidelius would break. Snape was out of the question - he was behind enemy lines. Sirius had Harry now, and he could not blow the game by going into hiding. After all, pureblood son of House Black had nothing to fear. Not even Bellatrix could harm him without facing the wrath of their society. They would go with someone else. Someone trusted.
“Bwaa,” Harry opined, most probably asking for sustenance.
“I have your bottle, sweetheart, let’s get inside the house first,” Sirius chuckled while he opened the door to his house, and-
-screamed.
“What are you doing here!” Sirius screeched, shattering all eardrums in a two kilometer diameter.
Orion Black, the intended recipient of Sirius’ words sat perched gracefully on the edge of the sofa, or rather, the hanky he had placed in the sofa before sitting himself. His second son, Regulus, was more rough and tumble, and was seated directly on the couch, his bum protected only by trousers and some undergarments.
“The prodigal son returns,” Orion muttered, and rose to his feet, with Regulus following his lead.
“I haven’t returned anywhere, this is my house! Also, get out!” Sirius thundered.
“Such boorish words to your father, and in front of a babe! It is just as well, as it is he we had come to see,” Orion replied, and advanced on Sirius, who backed away rapidly.
“You stay away from my baby!”
“Ah, so you admit it,” Orion hummed. “That would explain then, why the family tree decided to update itself with a new generation. Hadrian Sirius Black.”
Sirius could have slapped himself. How could he have forgotten that godsforsaken tapestry!
“He is my son, and I will not subject him to the likes of you!” Sirius cried, even as Orion peered at Harry, who waved a tiny fist at him happily.
“He is not a newborn,” Orion observed. “When was he born?”
“E- eight months ago,” Sirius stuttered out the rehearsed lie.
“Then why did he only appear on the tree now?” Regulus asked.
“I- I don’t-“
“Sirius Black,” Orion snapped. “Were you a cad to a girl? If I find out that you have impinged upon a girl’s honour-“
“I would never!” Sirius screamed. “You evil man! I could never even think of such a thing!”
“I should hope not,” Orion said, subsiding. “You have my apology for the accusation. But then where is the boy’s mother?”
“Dead,” Sirius said shortly.
“And was she of good stock?”
Sirius’ eyes flashed. “Oh, that must get your goat, thinking that he is not a pureblood, from your pool of inbred, webbed-toed, double navel-“
Orion sighed as Sirius continued to list biological anomalies, and wondered briefly about whom he had seen with two navels. Must have been a Goyle.
“-I shan’t subject my son to any of your nonsense, so you had best be on your way, and don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”
At that point, Harry started to cry in earnest, and Orion fixed his son with a dry look. “Go on then, feed him. I’ll wait here.”
“Wait, for what!”
“Why, your answer, of course,” Orion said smoothly, and plucked Harry out of Sirius’ arms. “You do know how to make a bottle, do you not? The standard nourishing formula?”
“I- I have-“
“Well hop to it, then,” Orion said, and waddled into the kitchen languidly to poke around the shelves, with Regulus following. Sirius charged in after them, incensed.
“Get out of my kitchen! And how do you even know where my things are kept?”
Orion turned around humorlessly. “This is Alphard’s old house, I spent many months here in my youth escaping your mother. He was my favourite cousin. A pity that he, ahem, died.”
Sirius seethed quietly, not divulging that Alphard was actually living the life on Costa Rica, where he had escaped to with a sloth keeper, Juan. They now raised several sloths in a sanctuary, and dressed exclusively in khaki shorts that did not cross mid-thigh. Sirius remembered his mother’s scream of rage when Alphard had left Sirius the house and done a runner, only to presumably die.
They had never been sure, Walburga had blasted his spot in the tapestry before they could get news.
But their loss was Juan’s gain.
“Uncle Alphard was ever so jolly and fun,” Regulus reminisced. “I always loved the feeling of those feathery scarves he used to have. I loved playing with them as a child.”
Sirius and Orion looked at each other knowingly, and then at Regulus, who continued to resemble a peppermint humbug. “Just as well then,” Orion murmured, “that we have a continuation of the family,” he said, jiggling Harry. “If, that is, you are truly a Black.”
Sirius stopped short of starting his tirade when Orion fixed him with a knowing look. “I ask you, Sirius, how it came to be that you have fathered a child, when I know for a fact that you are quite fae.”
“Oh, you too?” Regulus asked, glad to have company.
“I- I am not,” Sirius stuttered. “I like wo- wo- women!”
“And I have shagged a muggle,” Orion scoffed. “Tell the truth.”
“You are in no position to demand anything!”
Orion deftly uncorked the milk bottle while he jiggled Harry, who thought that he was being adoringly played with. “A pity then, that my sons will not produce heirs for me. I shall have to rely on Narcissa’s spawn to inherit. Or, perhaps, Bellatrix.”
That did it. “Bellatrix?” Sirius breathed.
Orion, who had been heating milk in a pan, because apparently he knew his way around the kitchen, whirled on him. “Do you think for one moment, that I want my house, the fortune that I built, to fall into that cretin’s hands? Do you know what it would mean to have my line continue? We would save our house from that woman’s brand of madness!
“So I will ask you again, Sirius,” Orion hissed dangerously. “Where did you get this child from, and of what stock is he?”
“It- it doesn’t matter to me,” Sirius said defiantly.
“It matters to me,” Orion replied evenly, even as the milk came to a boil. “Regulus, look for some nourishing formula, it is a light blue powder.”
“In the bag,” Sirius said shortly, as Regulus sifted through his belongings. He turned to Orion, who was bemusedly having his face patted by Harry’s tiny hands, but was doing little else to stop the onslaught of affection.
“Harry.”
“I beg your pardon,” Orion monotoned.
“His name is Harry,” Sirius clarified. “He is James Potter’s son.”
Orion wracked his mind. “I know the Potter boy got married, but I don’t know to whom.”
“Lily Evans,” Regulus piped up, from where he was stirring in the formula. “She was Head Girl in my fifth year. She’s muggleborn, has nice hair.”
Orion looked down at Harry, who was watching Regulus and trying to go and play with him. “Here, catch,” Orion said, and plopped Harry into Regulus’ arms.
“Papa! The babe is damp!”
“Then change him.”
“I know not how!”
“Then use a drying charm and hope to the heavens that he has only done a wee.” Orion turned to Sirius. “How did you come to claim the child? Have his parents passed on?”
Sirius shook his head. “They are being targeted by Voldemort. He is after Harry, and I had to claim him to give him a secret life as my child with a Bellafonte. Lily and James are going to have a faux funeral soon.”
Orion nodded thoughtfully. “You shared blood with the babe.”
Sirius wordlessly showed Orion the scar on his arm. “The ritual was pretty gross, I won’t lie. I didn’t know that we had to bathe the adoptee in blood.”
Orion nodded. “Usually it was done to replace a dead child. Bathe the adoptee in the blood of the old one, to take their place in the family. Magic is carried in the blood and bones. I have not seen it done for parents, however, but it seems to have worked for you.”
Sirius fidgeted, but chose to say nothing else. Instead opting to look at Regulus struggling with a diaper and stop Harry from crawling away, his bum now free to breathe.
“He’s just a baby. He doesn’t deserve this,” Sirius whispered. “To be born with a target on his back.”
“We so rarely get what we deserve,” Orion replied blithely. “Be glad that the babe might survive this war, no matter what the outcome. His parents - the Potters - will most probably not.” Sirius looked over in shock, and Orion raised a cool eyebrow. “What, you did not think this to be the case? If they choose to fight, they are active combatants. I hope, now that you have a child, you will not be so quick to rush into battle.
“As I see it, Sirius, we both stand to gain from this new development,” Orion continued. “I will have a continuation of my line, and you will have safety for your son. This is, of course, contingent on your returning to the fold.”
“The fold!’
“Indeed,” Orion smiled, like a raptor having spotted his prey. “Really, now. I am willing to give a halfblood child my name, lie about his blood status, and take him under my protection. Do you think I would do this without reason?”
Sirius gulped. “What do you want in return?” Whatever it was, he would do it, Sirius knew. Nothing would deter him from protecting Harry.
“Nothing much. You will see, in time,” Orion smirked. “Now come. This is a joyous occasion. I have a grandson, and an heir to my house, bathed in Black blood. That, I think, is better than nothing.”
“Come?” Sirius chafed at the command. “I am not going-“
“If you want the protection of Lord Black, how do you expect to get it without being affiliated with me? We must be seen together, and with the babe. What was his name again?”
“Harry.”
“Nonsense.”
“Hadrian.”
“Hmph. Better.” He turned to where Regulus was lying on the sofa and balancing Harry on his tummy. “Regulus, come. We are taking Sirius and and the babe home.”
“What!” Regulus bounced up. “Papa, what are you saying?”
“I am saying,” Orion said slowly, “that your brother has seen the error of his ways, and is rejoining us, bringing this rather small child with him.”
“Oh,” Regulus said, and pecked Harry’s head. “Poor child. It is good of you to step up, papa. What is the child’s name?”
“Harry.”
“Ridiculous,” Orion sniffed. “His name is Hadrian. Come, let us depart. I shall send word ahead to your mama-“
“What!”
Orion frowned at his eldest. “Your mama, my wife, who lives in my house. Honestly, Sirius-“
“How could you even suggest-“
“-You are just as bombastic as she-“
“-under rhe same roof once more, it is unthinkable-“
“-and in all honesty, you are two peas in a pod, entirely too alike.”
“Papa! How could you say such a thing!” Sirius cried in genuine horror, as Regulus giggled.
“It can’t be only me who sees it,” Orion scoffed. “It is apparent to anyone who sees you two in the same room - you are a carbon copy of your mother’s temperament, it is why you two clash so often.”
“I- you- oh!” Sirius gasped, and slumped onto the sofa in shock.
Distantly, as he recovered, Sirius heard Regulus ask, “Who am I like, papa?”
“Probably Alphard. Oh, you’re awake,” Orion observed, as Sirius stirred feebly. “Come, let us depart. I should rather like to get home in time for a nap before breakfast, it is just past two in the morning.”
“But what about m-m-mu-“
“I will deal with your mother,” Orion sighed, “as I always do. But for now, let us make haste. The night is waning, and I want to see the new day in my own home.”