We argue in the kitchen about whether to have children
Becoming a part of the Dark Lord’s inner circle, realising it’s literal hell, and then getting the fuck back out of it is hard, okay?
Staying out of a wizarding war and declaring yourself a ‘grey’ wizard when all of your friends keep trying to indoctrinate you into their creepy, death cult is also hard, okay?
Faking your own death and neutralising the soul-brand on your arm that ties you to a Dark Lord, while also stealing a piece of said Dark Lord’s soul is really hard, okay?
Barty, Evan and Regulus have all worked damn hard to get themselves out of Voldemort’s clutches and stay out of them…
So, when a grimm turns up at Grimmauld Place with a wicker basket hanging from it’s mouth holding a newborn fucking baby, well, they are understandably pissed - a feeling that only intensifies when said grimm pads past them through the open door and turns into Sirius Fucking Black.
Turning to Regulus for explanation, Barty is surprised to find him looking just as shocked as he and Evan are, before a furious look crosses his face.
“You’ve known we were here the entire time, haven’t you?” He hisses out at his brother, shutting the back door behind him harder than necessary.
Oh shit.
Barty is fully expecting something blasé and witty from the elder Black sibling, however, the man only grimaces, before dragging a hand across his face in distress. “I had nowhere else to bring him,” he mutters, gesturing towards the basket he’s holding in his other hand with resignation.
Looking closer at the man, Barty is surprised to see just how haggard he actually is. All through their school days, the boy was known for being a bit disheveled and rugged looking, but in a deliberate I-know-Im-hot kind of way, not this I-havent-showered-in-five-days look he has going on.
“And you brought us a child, why?” Regulus asks brusquely, cool, grey eyes narrowing on the wicker basket like it’s a snake, coiled and ready to strike.
“There’s—“ He sighs. “Look, it’s a long fucking story, Reg. Before you ‘died’, did you hear about a prophecy?” Sirius asks tiredly, moving down the hall and into the kitchen as he talks.
“Vaguely,” Regulus replies, before huffing and continuing at the bland look his brother sends him. “Something about someone with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, blah, blah, blah. I remember the Dark Lord was in quite the tizzy about it, but I was a bit distracted at the time trying to, oh I don’t know, escape from a murderous cult of dark wizards” he snaps.
Barty’s eyes flit between the two siblings with interest, having barely seen them interact at school, despite how close Regulus described them as being once upon a time, and while they’ve been hiding out in Regulus’ abandoned childhood home for the better part of a year now, his boyfriend has been very reticent and selective with what information he’s let slip about his brother and their shared history in this house.
He watches as Sirius mouth lifts up in the corner, just a twitch, at Regulus’ exasperation, his humour at the boy’s bratty behaviour well hidden.
“Yeah well, this is the guy who can ‘vanquish the Dark Lord’” he says, hoisting the basket up onto the kitchen table in the middle of the room for them all to inspect.
In the basket is a child. A very tiny child. A very tiny child with olive skin, dark curls and luminous green eyes.
The three boys stare in silence as the child stares back, before Evan hesitantly opens his mouth.
“The vanquisher of all evil is… a newborn child?” He asks, looking around the room as if desperately waiting to hear a punch line.
“I’ll do you one better,” Regulus spits. “The vanquisher of the dark lord is James fucking Potter’s kid?!”
Two pairs of shocked eyes turn back to stare at Sirius black as he runs a hand through his bedraggled hair - or he tries to, before wincing as his fingers get caught in a bunch of knots.
“Uh… yeah?”
“You DUMB FUCKING—“
“Woah now, Reggie! No swearing in front of Pronglet!”
“I can’t believe you would bring it here!”
“There was nowhere else to go! And technically this is my house, Reg!”
“We’re trying to hide from the dark lord, not summon him right to our doorstep, Siri! Do you know how hard we all worked to get away from all of that shit? Don’t go dragging us back into it—“
“There’s a war on, Regulus, incase you didn’t realise! Everyone is involved! You can’t just act like it’s not happening!”
“WATCH ME!”
Sighing to himself, Barty steps away from the brothers, wishing Evan luck as he watches the blond hesitantly trying to break up the quickly deteriorating shouting match.
Stepping across the kitchen, he peers into the basket at the baby who has been suspiciously quiet this entire time…
Pulling his wand out, he casts a diagnostic charm— aha! A silencing charm on the basket itself - Smart, Sirius.
Ending the charm, he puts his wand down and reaches in to lift the baby up, bouncing them a little, before hoisting them up, folding them into his arms as they give off a happy little gurgle.
Smiling slightly, he gets the child comfortable in one arm so that he can grab his wand again. Once settled, he starts to cast all of the limited medical diagnostic spells in his repertoire.
It turns out the baby is a boy, slightly underweight and dehydrated, but other than that perfectly fine.
Hmmm. They’ll have to send Kreature to the shops for some baby formula, nappies and the like, plus any toys the kid might want, some new clothes, a dummy or two… the brunette frowns in thought. Walburga was a hoarder the way all witches of great houses are - there’s definitely got to be a crib floating about somewhere, as well as a high chair - is the baby old enough to be able to sit up on its own yet? He doesn’t think so, based on the way it’s lying steadily in his arms without squirming, his green gaze piercing and warm.
Ah, fuck it. Barty’s always wanted a big family.
“Hey, dog-breath,” he calls out, effectively silencing the still ongoing argument. “Does the kid have a name or what?”
Two pairs of grey and one pair of green eyes stare at him like he’s speaking gibberish, before the elder black flushes and clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, his name is Harry - Harry James Potter.”
“Harry… hello, Harry,” he coos, reaching down to lightly stroke across the boy’s plump cheeks, smiling when he leans into the touch like a cat would.
Oh man… he’s so cute!
“Umm, Barty?” Evan calls.
“Hmm?” He hums, lightly chucking the kids cheek and grinning when that elicits a giggle.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m playing with our new son,” he says, looking back up at his boyfriends with a grin that turns slightly manic when he sees the panic on all of their faces. “Don’t you want to come and say hi to Harry?” He asks, bouncing the boy lightly.
Silence reigns for a few seconds, palpable in its tension, before Sirius and Regulus both explode—
“YOUR SON?!”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN OURS?! IF YOU THINK FOR ONE SECOND—“
Laughing in delight, he turns towards Evan with a smirk as the other two keep on yelling, the blond making his way over to them with a warm, exasperated smile.
“Look Harry, this is your dad! And that’s your papa over there, the pretty one that keeps shouting - you’ll get used to him soon!” He babbles, leaning in so that Evan can get a good look at their kid. “Look,” he jokes, “he has your eyes!”
Evan’s eyes are green, but a much darker, more earthly shade than Harry’s luminous ones, but the comment is worth it for the way Sirius’ face turns bright red and his cheeks puff out, ready to start on another tirade.
Laughing again, Barty turns back to the boy in his arms who is content to stare back at him with soft gurgles, ignoring the chaos erupting across the room, “oh, we’re gonna have so much fun together, kid!” He cackles, while Evan stares on from the side with a sigh, shaking his head with a soft smile at his boyfriend’s antics.
Well, at least he can say with confidence that their relationship is never boring… hell, they’ve managed to evade a dark lord for months now, how hard can it be to raise a child?
Meeting their other boyfriend’s eyes across the room as Sirius screeches and Barty howls, he sees that Regulus has already resigned himself to their partner’s actions, his grey eyes filled with a subtle warmth.
Yeah… they’ve totally got this. With the three of them here, whats the worst that could happen?