“Severus says you’re my father. Is that true?”
Her voice was cold, harsh, emotionless. Sirius hated how stoic she looked, with her bright green eyes void of life.
His daughter had every right to be mad at him. He’d left her, abandoned her, in favour of chasing after Pettigrew. He’d always planned on going back for her, of taking her to Black Manor and ensuring no one could ever hurt her again. But he’d been betrayed twice over – Pettigrew had framed him for murder, and Dumbledore had done nothing to prevent his imprisonment.
For twelve years he had suffered. Anger, grief, and despair threatened to swallow him, and his only light in the darkness had been his hope that, one day, he would find his way back to her. His daughter. The product of love between him, Lily, and James.
“Yes,” he rasped, reaching out to touch her but pulling away before he could. “Yes, you are my daughter.”
Rhea’s eyes narrowed. She tasted no lie, but still wasn’t convinced of the truth.
“How?” She asked, “How, when everyone believes James and Lily Potter to be my parents?”
“They are your parents,” Remus cut in, gently, when it seemed Sirius wouldn’t answer. “But… things were complicated by the war, and…”
“James,” Sirius continued, finding his voice, “was hit be a curse during a raid. He- he was rendered infertile, but he and Lily were so desperate for a child, so-”
“So, you stepped in to help.” Rhea finished, her scowl softening slightly in understanding.
The Black Heir nodded, unable to tear his eyes away.
His daughter was beautiful. Her eyes were all Lily – bright, poisonous, ferocious. The curve of her jaw and the tilt of her brows, that was James – all sharp lines and soft corners. The shape of her face mirrored his own, and the curly black hair that fell down her back… that was his too
He wasn’t surprised that Snape had noticed their familiarities, though he had been surprised when he found out the old Bat was responsible for him finally getting a trial.
“Magic,” Remus explained, “is capable of many things. Sirius and Lily used magic to, uh, create you, and then they performed a ritual to add James’s DNA to the mix.”
“From the day you were born, it was easy to recognise you as the child of three parents,” Sirius continued. “You have features from all of us and… well… you’ve always been a little more powerful than other children as well.”
“Is that why-” Rhea cut herself off. There was something she wanted to ask but she was afraid to say it.
The two men shared a look.
“Is that why what?” Remus prompted, quietly, his kind eyes soothing and warm.
After a moment of hesitation, Rhea continued.
“Is that why I can taste lies?”
Sirius blinked. Remus opened his mouth, only to close it again. The girl in front of them only stared, awaiting their reply.
“You…” Sirius started, “you can taste lies?”
“Yes,” Rhea nodded. “When people lie, I taste blood in my mouth. It’s how I know if people are telling me the truth or not.”
The two men were dumbfounded. They’d never heard of such a gift. Except…
“My grandmother, Melania,” Sirius said, “she used to claim that her ears would ring when people lied to her, like a faint buzzing in the background.” He paused, scratching the stubble around his jaw. “I always thought she was just making it up, but…”
“You think I could have gotten it from her?”
“Perhaps.” He shrugged. “It may be a gift that only appears every few generations and is hard to pin-point because everyone reacts to it differently.”
“Ringing ears would have been way better than tasting blood.” Rhea grumbled; her constant frown having shifted into an adorable pout. It made her look more child-like, more alike to her actual age.
“Yes, I can see how your gift may be unpleasant,” Remus smiled.
The trio fell into silence. Rhea was clearly deep in thought, and Sirius had to force himself not to fidget.
She was beautiful, and so utterly, utterly perfect, that he would be devastated if she decided she wanted nothing to do with him. He wouldn’t blame her in the slightest, of course, not after how he’d failed her, but it would destroy him nonetheless.
Sirius hated himself for failing Lily and James, for leaving their daughter to the manipulations of Dumbledore and the horror of a childhood without love. Remus, too, was filled with self-loathing. He had believed Dumbledore when the man told him that Rhea had been left with a loving family, safe and cared for, and that he, as a werewolf, would only put her in danger if he ever tried to visit. The headmaster had played on his every insecurity regarding his condition and, looking back, Remus was furious with himself for falling for it.
But no more. Both Sirius and Remus, the Last Marauders, were done listening to a man who had only ever disappointed them. They swore that from now on, Rhea would be their priority. Every thought, every action, would be to make her life better. They would be devoted to her, as they should have been from the start.
They were broken from their silent reverie by the object of their thoughts.
“So, I’m a Black.” Rhea said, eyes flicking between them.
“You are Rhea Regina Potter-Black.” Sirius smiled. “Heir to two Ancient and Noble Houses and, most probably, one of the wealthiest witches in Europe.”
Rhea hummed. She didn’t seem to care in the slightest that she had more money than she could spend in ten lifetimes, nor did she pay any attention to her titles.
It was her name that she truly reacted to.
Rhea Regina.
“Dumbledore told me my middle name was Lily.”
Remus growled and Sirius let out a harsh laugh.
“The old man wouldn’t have a clue what your real name is,” the latter said. “Names are sacred in the Wizarding World, only revealed to those closest to the family. We never let Dumbledore near you after you were born, and we only told people that your name was Rhea Potter. The only ones to know your true name were James, Lily, Remus, and myself.”
Sirius paused, eyes flicking over Rhea’s face as though trying to memorise her features.
“We named you after my brother,” he continued, his voice almost a whisper. “He never got the chance to meet you. He was a Death Eater, but he often fed us information about raids and such. He- he died, shortly before you were born. No one knows what really happened to him.”
Remus squeezed his shoulder, offering whatever comfort he could, and Rhea’s expression softened into one of sympathy and understanding.
“What was his name?” She asked.
Sirius sighed.
“His name was Regulus Black.”