Epilogue
Hi, Uncle Sirius! Where’d you go? Daddy says you’re really busy and I can’t bother you, but I didn’t see you at all yesterday, and—oh! Who’s the baby?” Kayla rattled off in one breath. Sirius winced.
“Not a baby,” Reg stated in almost a whine. The little creature stared at him, unconvinced. To be fair, if he were in her position, he wouldn’t be convinced either. He was currently being carried by his Papa, pouting and whining. She looked at him weirdly before turning back to Papa
“Anyway, can you leave the baby and come help me paint?” The high-pitched childish voice echoed in Regulus’s head.
Leave the baby.
Leave the baby.
Leave the baby.
He threw his arms around Papa’s neck and screeched, “NO NO NO!”
Sirius sighed as Regulus began to cry in earnest. “It’s okay, lovebug, I’m not going anywhere.” Kayla looked at him with wide eyes and a wobbling chin.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make him cry!” He looked at her kindly. “I know, sweetheart. I know. But it’s not nice to say things like that.” She looked down, ashamed. “I’m sorry.” Then she brightened up again. Waving her hand in front of Regulus, she said, “Hey baby, do you wanna paint too?”
This stopped Regulus. He looked at her, considering the offer. She’d been mean, but she didn’t mean it. In the end, he just responded, “Not. A. Baby.” She shrugged. “Fine then. What’s your name, Not-A-Baby?” Despite himself, he giggled. “Reggie.”
“I’m Kayla. Do you wanna paint, Reggie?” He thought for a minute and finally nodded.
So they made their way to the playroom, where Aidan was already sitting with paint and paper. “Hi, Daddy!” Kayla waved enthusiastically. “Say hi Reggie.” He waved back shyly before Papa put him down on a chair and gave him a piece of paper. Immediately, he zeroed in on a bright orange and began streaking it along the page rather messily. Throughout, she kept up a steady stream of nonsense chatter in the background. It was kind of nice, actually, someone talking to him but not expecting him to respond.
“…and that’s my Daddy; he’s the best Daddy in the world and loves me lots.” Regulus almost objected—Papa was definitely better but he was too focused on his paints. “And then look, there’s Uncle Sirius; he's your Daddy and loves you lots too.”
Sirius absentmindedly fiddled with his wand and watched as Reg splashed various shades of orange on the paper. Crisis averted for now, although he had no doubt that this would become a recurring theme in the future. Still now they had time, and he would make sure Regulus knew he would never leave him.
He watched Aidan drum his fingers on the armrest, the way he always did when he was upset. They were sitting on one of the sofas near the wall, far enough away that the littles wouldn’t overhear them by accident but still close enough to keep an eye on them.
Finally, Aidan said, “I think one of the third years in my house has presented early.” Sirius dropped his wand with a clatter.
Presenting early was nearly impossible and always bad news. It only happened when a child was under extreme stress. The most common cases occurred in victims of child abuse, kidnapping, and/or trafficking.
“He’s been showing all the signs of a newly presented little, but he’s way too young to present. I’ve talked to Madam Pomfrey, and she wants to place him under supervision, but upending his world like that so quickly could just do him more harm.”
“Well, we have to do something! We can’t just sit here.” Sirius nearly burst out of his chair. It was far too easy to imagine Reg in that position, if he had left earlier, if their mother had been crueler.
“I know, I know. We’ve coordinated with Professor McGonagall, and Lily’s going to be assigned to tutor him in Transfiguration and observe him for a couple of days. If she agrees with me, we’ll have to have a specialized Healer come in and evaluate him.” Aidan swallowed anxiously. “I’m doing my best in the meantime, but this is not good. What hell has that poor kid been through?”
Sirius didn’t even want to imagine it. “What’s his name?”
“Barty Crouch Jr.”