FicWad

There was a man rushing through the streets of London. It was late and he ran as fast as he could, dodging other night owls, dashing between the tin methods of transportation Muggles called “cars”.

It’s true; he could have Apparated and saved himself the trouble and indignity of passing by on this filth, but not now, with his emotions high and his focus shattered – he did not want to risk splinching himself in the process.

So he ran on, growing less patient with the second. He took to pushing Muggles out of his way – which meant touching them – to save him some time; normally, he would’ve easily blasted them away with his wand, or else spent some time coming up with creative curses. He would’ve shown them how to act around their superiors! Now, he let them call him names. He let them yell after him.

They were unimportant.

He skidded to a halt quite abruptly, in front of a house labelled number twelve, and sped up the stone steps. He crashed into the door, fumbling around with his wand to open it. It did, and he fell inside the house, and crying filled his ears. Beautiful, perfect little screeches coming from the first floor.

He made his way up the stairs, walking more slowly now, and approached the nursery. He waited for a few moments, taking in the sound. He welcomed it just as he had welcomed it twenty-one months ago.

He pushed the door open and was greeted by his son, his firstborn, his precious little Sirius Pollux Black. He could not contain himself as he toddled over to him, holding up his arms to be lifted into the air.

Orion smiled warmly down at his son, who was now loudly proclaiming, ‘Daddy’s back!’

The crying only grew louder at Sirius’ shouts and Orion quickly swept him off the floor.

‘That’s right,’ he murmured, ‘I’m back. Your father’s here now.’

‘He’s been asking for you.’

He looked past his son’s head at his wife, his best friend, his cousin; she sat in a big lazy chair, holding a bundle of blankets in her arms.

‘Walburga, dearest—’

She shifted in her seat and his chest exploded in warmth, and he hurried over towards her, to get a better look at the crying bundle of flesh in her arms. To get a better look at his son.

His second son.

‘Oh, he’s gorgeous,’ he murmured, ignoring his firstborn as he now played with the strands of Orion’s long hair, until a particularly nasty tug had him look down at the ever-restless toddler in his arms.

‘Whassit?’

The miracle of a new life was too precious to spend energy on correcting Sirius’ words, so all he did was position the boy so he could see into the blankets as well. ‘It’s your little brother, look, your tiny baby brother.’

Sirius looked up at him, his face lighting up with the kind of excitement only a toddler could muster. ‘Brover!’ he squealed, wiggling in Orion’s arms as he peered curiously at the bundle of blankets. ‘Tiny tiny brover!’

‘Yes, very tiny,’ Orion agreed with a chuckle. ‘But when he grows, you’ll have a little playmate. He’ll be your best friend and you his protector.’

Sirius furrowed his brow, reaching out a chubby fist towards his baby brother’s head. Orion pulled him away at once, and he looked up with wide eyes, on the verge of tears.

‘Careful. Sirius, be careful.’

Sirius nodded, and carefully reached his hand out towards the baby again, softly stroking his head. It seemed to have a calming effect, and the cries finally quieted down.

Orion released Sirius (who took to running around the room) and planted a kiss on Walburga’s forehead. ‘We’ve done it. Oh, we’ve done it!’

Walburga smiled at him, and repeated his words, ‘We’ve done it.’

He reached out to touch the newborn’s cheek.

‘Welcome to the world, Regulus Arcturus Black.’