Chapter Text
Part I - Corvinus Potter-Black: Storge
Chapter I
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This work does not have a beta reading and English is not the author's native language. The characters of 'Harry Potter' are by J.K. Rowling, all rights go to her.
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Corvinus Rigel Potter-Black
Family Love
When Harry died, he saw nothing but white. He didn't feel pain, just as Sirius had told him, but he felt something in the back of his mind that was drawing him in. As if he had forgotten something.
Slowly the boy got to his feet, noticing the dress he had been dressed in, which matched the surrounding landscape.
Then a lament broke that fake peace and Harry found himself forced to follow him, because, in one way or another, it seemed that the lament was the source of what he had forgotten.
The closer he got to the lament, the more the landscape began to change, from the infinite white, Harry found himself in King's Cross station.
Only without a train.
From a distance he spotted a tall and composed figure. He - he understood that it was a him - was observing something under a bench and, in some way, he was intent on teasing that figure, from which the moans came.
"Hey! Leave them alone!"
The moans stopped for a moment, then became louder, as if to get Harry's attention.
The slender figure, on the other hand, turned to him and had no difficulty in understanding who it was: Tom Riddle, only slightly older than his diary memory.
The young man didn't seem surprised to see him there, he turned to Harry what appeared to be more of a grin than a smile and stepped back from the bench.
The boy took the opportunity to approach the two figures, he did not ask himself why they were there or how they were there, his only concern was that agonizing figure under the bench.
A cry of surprise came from Harry's lips.
Under the bench was a bundle, it looked terribly like the Voldemort of his fourth year, before the ritual, but he was full of wounds and dried blood on himself.
Cried.
He cried and moaned, as if his life depended on it.
"What happened to him?"
"Desperate. Probably close to death."
"Isn't there a way to help him?"
"Oh Harry...-", Tom - Voldemort - smiled amused, noticing their approach more to be able to caress his face. "-Now there is nothing more for him to do. Yet, if you really insist... Why don't you try to get it?"
Harry was confused, but slowly he was trying to connect all the pieces of what had happened: he was in the forest, he had accepted his death to prune at the end of Voldemort and now he was here, with him...
Or a part of him.
Was it the afterlife? He was talking to the piece of the soul that was stuck in him, it seemed too human to be...
But suddenly all his worries were erased, as the bundle began to make more and more noise and Tom's face - Voldemort - takes on an expression of disgust.
Harry, fearing that it might bother him again, took the bundle in his arms.
To his surprise, he had so much strength: he clung to him in desperation, and slowly his moans began to subside, until he calmed down completely.
It seemed that he had fallen asleep.
Harry's attention shifted to Tom - Voldemort -, the young man was looking at him with a serious expression, his hands behind his back and his lips in a straight line.
The boy didn't know how to interpret it.
"And now?"
"Now...-", the young adult's attention shifted to the train that appeared in front of them, the red was painful after a long expanse of white and light colors. "-Decide whether to pass or go back. I guess."
"Don't you know?"
"I never thought of reaching this point. I have to admit that it's new to me too."
Harry looked at the train, it was the same as the Hogwarts Express and yet it had something completely different from it; perhaps it was due to its silence or to the doors still closed, along with the cabins covered by curtains.
Or it was just the same train, but Harry was having trouble concentrating.
"Why are you here?"
"Oh Harry...-", he reminded him a lot of Hermione when he started like this, always ready to say something bad to him. Actually, Tom's expression - Voldermort - did not express anything good. "-I am here because of you."
"It doesn't tell me much..."
"No, I guess not."
The young man's attention shifted from the train, to the bundle Harry had in his arms.
Surprisingly, the boy found himself to be very protective of him, he wanted to protect him, but he couldn't understand why this feeling and Tom - Voldemort, why did he keep making mistakes? - was not helping him in the slightest to understand.
"You didn't have to be my guide, did you?"
Voldemort smiled. No, he grinned.
"There was an old buffoon here before you came along. I tried to talk to him, but he ran away before I could ask him any questions."
"Dumbledore?"
"I guess it was him, yes. But he told me that you could choose whether to go forward or go back."
"Will you come with me?"
For the first time Harry saw Voldemort surprised, or not, perhaps it was a calculated expression to look so.
The boy didn't care much, maybe he would think a little more about it when - not if - he would go back to help his friends.
"Do you want me with you?"
"I'll take you both with me, it seems like the right thing to do."
"You are a very special soul, Harry Potter...-", Voldemort looked at the red train for a moment and smiled amused when it announced its departure. "-I'll be really happy by your side, I feel it."
Then Harry regained consciousness and the war continued where he left off.
...
Now Harry had two problems: the first was that he had discovered the secondary gender - quite late for the healer who was visiting him - and the second was that he was pregnant.
Virgin.
Pregnant.
The irony of fate.
He even had a blue coat, which reminded him of one of the images of Virgin Mary he saw as a child.
Starting over.
It had been several months, after the war, that Harry had been feeling ill.
At first it was simple nausea, the boy had associated it with a rejection for the months of fasting because of the escape, so he didn't think much about it, it would pass.
Then came the tiredness and muscle pain, Harry came to be so sick that he couldn't get out of bed.
Hermione forced him to pay a visit, together with Ron, she accompanied him to a private office, where they asked him several tests and questions about his symptoms.
That's how he found out that some wizards could be born with secondary genders and that he was five months pregnant - his usual luck on October 31st.
Harry was clutching the X-ray of the fetus in his hands.
The boy's health problems, present long before the war, were putting the pregnancy at risk - now too advanced to be cut short - and therefore the fetus was feeding on his magic to survive, risking killing them both in the meantime.
A trembling sigh came from his lips and he held back his tears.
Hermione was talking to the Medimaga about the possibilities of such an event, while Ron listened to everything in a chair next to hers.
Harry couldn't keep up, his attention completely focused on the photos he had in his hands.
Then hands surrounded his, warm and reassuring. Harry slowly looked up, only to find Hermione's tight smile again.
Then an arm wrapped his arm around his shoulders, and Ron rested his head against his.
The boy enjoys the warmth of his best friends, managing to calm down - a little.
"What's the new?"
"Nothing abnormal... Oh Harry, they say the baby was born of a relationship... If you have suffered any violence during... You know..."
"You say they would have sex with a dead body, Hermione?"
Her tired expression startled him.
He would not have done it. Right? He wasn't so crazy as to...
Fuck!
He didn't even want to think about it! Even in death that man had to haunt him, just couldn't be out of his life.
The trio returned to Grimmauld Place, not having taken all the instructions to follow for Harry's health.
The townhouse seemed darker, dustier and more inhospitable than the other times - or maybe it was simply how the boy felt at the time.
He wanted to sleep. Be left alone and sleep. But he also didn't want his two best friends to leave, to make him go through all this without guidance and overwhelm him with stress.
Were these the mood swings due to pregnancy?
"'Mione, you know a little more about this... Second gender?"
The girl turned to him in surprise, apparently she had taken it upon herself to make tea for everyone and was now heating the water in the teapot.
He saw her writhing her hands, thoughtful, as she tried to remember something. But it was Ron who intervened.
"It is a pure-blooded knowledge, unlikely that books will talk about it."
"Why?" asked Hermione.
"Because it's extremely personal. Like a taboo. They are talked about more in the family, never among friends and acquaintances. Some families plan weddings based on this."
Harry had more questions than answers and apparently the same was true for Hermione, both of whom were very confused by the explanation of the red.
Ron took a deep breath and scratched the back of his neck, quite embarrassed.
"I can't tell you much actually, my mom always talked about it at the table about how much it was a blessing but also a curse and how relieved she is that none of her children had these... Characteristics. I can ask her if you want."
"I... I don't want to let others know about my other condition."
"No, right mate, you're right. Imagine having to explain to the whole world that you have the child of you-know-who in your womb! Poor Kingsley will end up fainting."
"Ronald! This was really insensitive!"
The two began to argue with each other, continuing even when the teapot began to whistle and the tea served at the table.
Harry's attention was elsewhere...
In fact, how could he explain his condition to the rest of the order? But are we really sure that the child belongs to that man?
It could have been any of the Death Eaters present... Not that the situation improves, in fact.
Harry felt like nauseated again.
…
Being aware of the pregnancy totally changed Harry's life.
Now he knew what he had, he knew how to deal with it - or at least he hoped - and he knew the reason for certain reactions.
For example: he understood that the molasses tart was his nectar of the Gods - he loved that dessert but now it seemed that he could not do without it -, but any other food made him nauseous at the very thought.
Yet he found himself forced to take a certain amount of protein and vitamins, all to prevent the child from eating his magic.
Potions helped a lot.
They all tasted horrible, especially one with a purple color that - apparently - helped its magical core not to run out.
Hermione always rewarded him with tart at the end of the day when he took them.
With the help of the two, Harry's belly became slightly more visible.
They began to organize a bedroom for the newborn, to buy clothes for when he would be born - in December or January, it seemed too little of a coincidence now that he thought about it - and what name to give him.
Ron had made it a personal mission to search for old family tree books, so as to 'avoid a budding dark gentleman who hates his Muggle name'.
Especially after Harry had proposed 'Tom' as his name.
He wanted to laugh at it, but the two looked at him with extreme seriousness and therefore he was silent on the subject.
Hermione, on the other hand, took as a mission the knowledge of everything about magical male pregnancy.
She started looking in books, but when she realized it was useless, then started asking around among the pureblood they knew - especially Mrs. Weasley.
"Darling, why are you asking me this?"
"At work, a guy wanted to take leave for pregnancy, so I wondered... How exactly does it work? Are there potions? Herbs?"
Mrs. Weasley laughed and shook her head as she continued to knead something.
Harry paid attention to their conversation as he sat at the kitchen table, holding a cup of tea in his hands and a slice of tart by his side.
"Sometimes I forget that you didn't grow up here, you know so many things Hermione... A really smart girl.-" Mrs. Weasley washed her hands as she left the dough to rest. "-No, no potion or herb, it's all completely natural."
"But how? Boys can't get pregnant."
"They are called 'Omegas'... -", Harry remembers that the healer had hinted at him when she had checked him. "-They are extremely rare these days, along with their 'Alpha' counterparts. It's quite simple as it is hard to imagine: Omegas are prized for their fertility, while Alphas are prized for being the only ones to cheer them on. There were rumors that You-know-who was an Alpha and this explained his great power. Who knows, maybe it was true."
"Are the Alphas so powerful?", this time it was Harry's turn to ask the question. Had he challenged an 'Alpha' and no one had ever told him? Why are these things only mentioned now?
"Oh. It's possible.-", Mrs. Weasley sits down at the table with the two young adults, but taking her gaze away from them. 'Far away in memory...', Harry thought. "-In my generation they were already on the way to extension, but those few who woke up to this gene were immediately removed from the classrooms. So it's hard to know more about them. There are cases in which the awakening takes place after a traumatic event, a moment of need, so those few were allowed to finish their studies, only to disappear from society."
"But why? Why did they have to leave?"
"Because some purebloods think it's the sign of Mother Magic to bless their blood, so they wanted to avoid any bastard that might be born from rebellions. Nonsense I say, but who knows? I never got to make friends with any of them."
Again Harry had even more questions than answers, but at least it was easier for him to understand the social burden to which he was subjected.
Again.
Nothing special.
The Weasleys' lunch went on calmly, most of the family was at the table: Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were talking to each other too thickly to be heard; in front of Harry were Ron and George talking about the joke shop; and Hermione and Percy were talking about something at the Ministry.
"I see you much better now, Harry."
"You don't seem to be sick either, Ginny."
An awkward silence fell between the only two at the table, who couldn't integrate into the conversations around them.
The girl had her hair tied in a high ponytail and her skin slightly tanned from her career as a chaser for the Holyhead Harpies.
But she seemed slightly tired, perhaps due to the constant training she was subjected to with the other girls.
"How is your career going?"
"Good. I'm settling in. And... You?"
"I'm fine."
And silence falls again between the two.
Harry didn't quite understand when their breakup began, the day before they were talking about this and that and the next day they started to drift apart.
The boy imagined that it was due to a change of air: he probably wanted to understand herself better first and then they would have approached each other as if nothing had happened.
But did he want this? To return to a relationship that ended without even an explanation?
Lunch at the the Burrow ended with embarrassing greetings.
Ron and Hermione took care to accompany him home and keep him company until the evening, when they found themselves forced to return to their small apartment - Harry watched, sadly, as the floo faded as soon as they passed.
With a sigh he sat down on a sofa in the living room, a cup of tea appeared in front of him and Harry couldn't help but smile, thanking Kreacher in a low voice.
The tea was hot enough for him to relax against the back of the couch and close his eyes for a moment.
Every now and then he took a few sips, but his mind never stopped at a precise thought.
He continued like this until he finished the tea, placing the cup on his saucer and watching how it disappeared.
Hermione would surely have had something to say...
With a smile Harry got to his feet, ready to go to bed - he had 'borrowed' Sirius' room, unable to furnish it from scratch, or to use any of the many rooms in Grimmauld Place.
The room was just as he had left it, if not even tidier.
Harry's things had been put in a corner, trying to take up as little space as possible, although he was sure that Kreacher had put some clothes in the closet.
Entering that room always provided strong emotions to Harry, but for that today he was a little too tired, surely he would have thought about it tomorrow, as soon as he woke up.
The only thing he wanted - right now - was to lie down, lying down and turning all his worries to the near future.
He will try to sleep, because he felt terribly tired, and he hoped that at least that evening he would not have any discomfort that would force him to get up and run to the bathroom.
"Got it baby? Let's rest daddy for a while, shall we?"
Harry wanted to laugh while stroking his belly, how could he expect her to answer him? He probably didn't even understand what he was saying to him.
Or he felt offended because he was ignored all that time and...
One blow.
Harry sat down immediately.
"Okay, little one. Maybe I underestimated you a little too much...-", another blow and Harry laughed, almost hysterically, while suddenly tears began to fall. "-By Merlin's underwear, why am I crying now?!"
Taking a deep breath, Harry lay on the bed again, with one hand resting on his belly as he felt the small blows - kicks or punches - that the fetus was providing him.
It was annoying - sure - but somehow Harry was able to fall asleep because of it.
...
In mid-November, the seventh month of pregnancy, people began to talk about childbirth.
The healer - who had discovered Harry's pregnancy - assured them that it will be nothing dangerous, they would provide him with potions for pain and then put him to sleep, all to ensure the opening of the belly and let the baby out.
"Caesarean section?!"
"Tell me, Mr. Potter, did you mean to make it natural?"
"Is it possible?", Hermione asked - she always preferred to be present at these meetings and Harry could not help but thank her for this -, the healer nodded to her question.
"Of course it is possible, Omegas like Mr. Potter are extremely rare precisely for this reason: when the time comes for delivery their genetics change, to ensure the exit of the fetus."
Harry was shocked by those words, but his main concern was another...
"Will I become a woman?!", Harry asked, louder than he had imagined.
"Only during childbirth, Mr. Potter, not permanently. Although it will be possible for her to be pregnant again since she is not only equipped with a sexual apparatus, but both."
Harry's mind began to travel.
He didn't do it on purpose, he clearly wanted to listen to what the healer had to say, but the mere thought of having to chase a child out of his lower parts - fortunately not - gave him chills.
He could only understand that Hermione had accepted, for him, the caesarean section, the only thing they asked him to do was to sign the various papers for the surgery.
"When is the birth expected?"
"Miss Granger, according to our calculations it should start between the end of December and the beginning of January. The precise date is not yet clear."
And here Harry's mind travels again, he had the feeling that these moments of loss of reality would happen very often from now on.
He wanted to cry.
His mind was focused on how he hadn't enjoyed anything about the pregnancy, how careless he had been with his problems, and how he could have found out much sooner if he wanted to.
Returning to Grimmauld Place made Harry cry hard, and his tears became even louder when Walburga's painting began to scream.
Hermione led him - diligently - to Sirius' room, perhaps thinking he was tired and wanted to rest.
Harry was just thinking about what a terrible father he could be like, for not finding out about the pregnancy right away.
The blows to the belly of the fetus calmed him down a little, he felt his presence like a warm blanket on his shoulders.
That it was developing its own magical core? What kind of parent was consoled by their children?
Harry cried again.
"Oh Harry, it's going to be all right. It won't be painful in the slightest, and Ron and I will be by your side."
"You don't understand, 'Mione, it's not childbirth that worries me, not now... It's not having discovered the pregnancy earlier that stresses me out. I could have enjoyed it more, not risked losing the baby, and had a diary in which I would have written any news!"
"Who tells you you can't do it now...? We can make a collage, all together, where we put all our thoughts and also write the date. What do you say?"
"I...-", Harry sniffled, trying to wipe away his tears as he nodded. "-Yes, I guess it can go... I'm sorry, 'Mione, I don't know what got me.'
The girl simply smiled at him, bringing an arm around his shoulders and holding him close to her.
He also stayed with him for dinner, where Ron joined them, both tried to dampen the air by trying to make him feel better.
They were also by his side when it was time to take his potions; even when he had to go to bed, the two stayed in one of the rooms of the terraced villa.
Harry felt so lucky to have friends like them.
...
At the beginning of December Ron finally had a long list of names to entrust to the unborn child.
He arrived after his turn at Auror with this long scroll in his hand while he was drinking tea and Hermione was filling out papers for her job at the Ministry.
Ron coughed for their attention.
"Well well, my dear friends, the moment you have all been waiting for has arrived: the choice of names!"
"Ron, know that I will not call my son Leopold just to call back our Hogwarts house. It's also the name of your owl!"
The redhead muttered something to himself as he made a goose feather appear and crossed out one of the names on the list.
Harry laughed, as Hermione shook her head but could see a smile on her lips.
Ron sat down at the table, where a cup of tea appeared soon after; he heard him murmur a 'thank you' - under Hermione's critical eyes.
The list was decidedly long.
Really very long.
He had the impression that he had said 'No' to at least fifty names and from Ron's expression it seemed that he had got it right.
Hermione would occasionally comment on which name she found cute, or horrible; but for Harry everyone seemed to be discarded.
Until...
"Corvinus."
One blow.
Harry jumped in his chair as he caressed his belly, all morning the baby had been quiet and now he had taken him by surprise.
He looked at Ron, quizzically.
"Repeat, please."
"Corvinus."
Another blow, and it didn't seem like a coincidence.
He had the impression that his child understood much more than he should, Harry did not know whether to be worried or happy about it.
"It seems that the little one likes the name 'Corvinus'.-", and here is another blow, as if to confirm his words. Harry laughed slightly. "-Okay, it's decided, Corvinus be it. Tell me, mate, where did you find these names?"
"Oh! I asked my father if he had any books on the pure-blood dynasty, you know, and I started to discard whatever name I found nice for the Dark Lord's son...-", a 'Ronald!' came out of Hermione's lips, as an ammunition, but the redhead continued with his explanation.
"-I dug into every bloodline, arriving at the Gaunt bloodline, who are said to be descendants of Salazar Slytherin and that's where I got this name."
For some reason, Harry didn't feel so surprised to find out that his son liked that name, as to give him proof from the blood from which he descends.
Apparently he will be proud of his ancestors just like his father...
Harry almost felt conflicted.
"Would you like to give it a second name?"
"How does it work?"
"Usually the name of the paternal father or grandfather is given, if it is male, the opposite if it is female. This only applies to the firstborn."
"I don't think he wants 'Tom'...-", two very strong blows made Harry grit his teeth. "-Or 'Orvoloson' as a middle name.", another two strong blows, as if to prove him right.
Ron looked at him thoughtfully, then his gaze began to wander.
Harry shifted his attention to Hermione, seeking help from his friend; but the girl was completely focused on her work and paid little attention to the discussion in progress.
"Ah! -", Harry jumped into his seat, taken aback after minutes of silence. "-Well, how about naming it after a star? It was Black tradition, right? After all, that child will not only have the surname Potter."
"I think there are astronomy books in the library... Or I can check on the tapestry."
They closed their discussion of names like this.
The trio had lunch together, where Hermione and Ron began to share their work experiences.
Every once in a while, Ron would have a few funny episodes that made him laugh.
Then the two had to go to finish their workday, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts; But he did not let himself be overwhelmed, not now.
He set out for the Blacks' library, intending to look for some name he might like, even managed to find several tomes of Greek and Roman mythology - he never imagined finding Muggle literature in there.
Some time passed, so much so that the sun was going down, and he had already tried several names next to that of 'Corvinus'
According to Harry: 'if it didn't sound right, then it wasn't good'.
He came to read about the constellation of Orion, which he remembered as the name of Sirius' father, and the stars from which it is composed.
The brightest is called Rigel - or Nigel - which comes from Arabic and means 'the left foot of the Central One', which represents the left foot of the Giant, from which the name of the constellation derives.
Well, Harry didn't care much about the meaning, so he tried to say the full name out loud.
"Corvinus Rigel Potter-Black. Mh. That doesn't sound bad... What do you say, little one?"
Harry didn't hear any knocks, so he thought it wasn't that bad as a middle name after all.
Now he was ready to tell his friends, but first he intended to write the events of that day in his magazine - which Hermione had kindly bought him - before going to dinner and then sleeping.
...
Christmas came and went too quickly for Harry's taste.
At that time he had the courage to tell part of the truth to the Weasley family, stating that during the escape he had had a quick relationship with a stranger - oops - and that he was now reunited with a son.
After a long series of lectures from Mrs. Weasley - on the responsibility of sexual relations and on the fact that he should have told them everything much earlier -, in the end they welcomed the news with evident joy, in the end a child was something to celebrate.
If only they had known...
Grimmauld Place quickly became a welcoming home for a newborn baby, even Walburga's painting began to make less noise at the news of a young heir.
While she wasn't happy that the heir came from a 'dirty Half-Blood' instead of his children, alas, Harry couldn't do much about it.
Kreacher made sure to have all the cursed items out of reach of a child, putting guards almost everywhere.
Harry was moved.
"It is my duty, master. Kreacher has raised several heirs in the ancestral Black home, he knows how to do his job."
This is the only thing he said, returning to protect the house properly.
Hermione didn't seem very happy about this breakthrough, but under the obvious realization that the magic of the Elves seemed much more lasting than that of the Mages, she was finally convinced.
Not that she could do anything about it, because of the stubbornness of an elf as old as Kreacher.
Then came December 30th and Harry wasn't ready for the water to break.
Alone.
Just a few hours before midnight.
His friends were called thanks to his patronus and both helped him go to the private hospital, where Harry was followed in his pregnancy.
They provided him with potions for pain, which reduced him slightly, and after several hours - because they had to be sure that the child was ready to be born - they finally put him to sleep by the caesarean section.
He woke up when the sun had already risen and on the last day of the year welcomed him with a gentle snowfall.
Hermione was the first person to enter his field of vision, she was smiling at him with shining eyes and was holding a bundle in her arms.
Something stuck in Harry's throat as he tried not to cry and take the baby in his arms.
"He looks like an alien."
It is the first thing he said, making the girl burst out laughing.
He looked wearily around him, in the room where they put him was the entire Weasley family, most of them asleep on chairs and armchairs.
Fleur smiled at him, waving from the chair in which she was sitting, right next to Mrs. Weasley, who was also awake and knitting.
"Good morning 'Arry, how do you feel?"
"Stunned."
This made Mrs. Weasley laugh slightly, and she continued the knitting at her magic as she stood up to approach him.
"Oh, that's normal dear.-", Molly gently stroked his forehead, removing the strands of hair that had fallen before his eyes - her touch sweet as a mother. "-We were waiting for you to wake up to confirm the baby's name."
"Corvinus. Corvinus Rigel Potter-Black."
Mrs. Weasley smiled at him and together with Fleur they left the room to call the healer who operated on him.
Harry was finally able to go back to looking at the child in his arms, he was really small and a sweet raven hair covered his head, he could already notice the usual hedgehogs of the Potters.
Harry was slightly relieved, for now he looked nothing like Tom Riddle.