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Islington, London, Grimmauld Place 1959, November 3rd

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"Why do we have to be here for the birth? Could we not visit afterwards?" Tom questioned in a merest whisper. He had been abroad when Imogen had given birth six-years-ago. He was not quite so lucky this time, "I am going to have to be here each time a friend goes into labour?" he had legislations to write up, planned speeches to make, and not forget mistakes to correct on the architecture blueprints they had for a building they were planning to see built.

"Not every friend," Hadrian said, grinning brightly, green eyes gleaming with mirth. Watching Tom blanch, a little in distaste, "It shouldn't be long now; she's been in labour for twenty-four hours."

"Yes, and my ears may never recover," Tom said seriously, "I wasn't aware that Walburga even knew half those words. I would have thought them much too vulgar for her tastes." And her screeching...Merlin, she must surely have some Banshee in the family line?

Hadrian muffled his amusement, when he first appeared in this time, that was the Walburga he was more used to. Hearing her talk and sound normal had been a shock to the system. He'd almost forgotten what she sounded like in the portrait, until now.

"Will you be laughing when I'm bleeding from my ears?" Tom asked in mock aghast. And that had been only a few moments when the door was open before it was closed and the silencing wards were re-erected.

"That won't happen, I've seen and heard her louder...and a lot more vulgar," Hadrian said wryly, "Not sure what caused the change...and hope I never find out."

Walburga didn't have any sisters in there with her, instead her mother, Irma Crabbe-Black and her cousins were with her. Orion had been ordered out of the room, until Hadrian had told Orion that the child in there was his son, and he had every right to be there for the birth. That having him there would be a great comfort to Walburga - she was in severe pain - right now.

Within five minutes, Orion had entered the room, and stated quite firmly, if they were unhappy, they knew where the door was. He was going to be with his wife for the birth of their son.

'It's unnatural! I'll tell you, it's obscene seeing your wife like this!'

'She looks beautiful! She's giving birth to our son!'

'Get over here and stop arguing with my mother!'

"He's here!" came Orion's voice, as he emerged from the bedroom, to the reception room where everyone was waiting. Friends and family alike, all impatient for the newest arrival. "I'd like to introduce you to Sirius Orion Black!" he was beaming with pride, flushed red in delight and exhaustion, he'd never known Walburga was so strong.

Arcturus and Melania were naturally first to hold their grandchild. The first child born into the Black family this generation. Not only as the head of the family, although that had a great deal to do with it. "He's beautiful, Orion, you've both done well."

"Hadrian...would you do the honour of being his godfather?" Orion asked, turning to face the extremely powerful wizard, who had helped Orion step into his own.

Hadrian let loose a giggle - bordering on hysterical kind of giggle mind - before he slapped his hand over his mouth in horror.

"Hadrian's my godfather!" six-year-old Lucius Malfoy stomped his foot and pouted.

Before either parent could reprimand Lucius for his behaviour Hadrian knelt before the child. "You'll always be my first godchild, Lucius, but I don't belong to anyone, and nobody belongs to you. Just because I have another godchild it doesn't mean I'll love you any less." He told the boy seriously; his parents would have just reprimanded him for such behaviour without addressing the underlying fears the boy had.

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