"No, don't dive you son-of-a-"
Frustrated and spent, Sirius was practically climbing over the lean bar in the V.I.P. lounge at the quidditch stadium. The second seeker, on the home team, had just spotted the Golden Snitch about three seconds after Harry and was now taking a death defying plunge to the faux grass below them.
In his arms, a small toddler boy clutched to dear life with short arms and tiny hands around Sirius's neck. Watching the older wizard with intense interest and fascination, while wearing a matching oversized Chudley Cannon's jersey, he tried to mimic his level of excitement. Instead, he was hypnotized by the many players flying before him and his voice got quieter as his wide blue eyes tried to take it all in.
Though it was a momentous day, exposing the young boy to his first professional game of quidditch, Hermione was perfectly fine to remain curled up under a team blanket against the plush couches of the V.I.P. lounge. With her feet propped up on a nearby chair, a fresh cup of steaming hot tea with lemon sat on the cocktail table before her brought by one of the several house elves that catered the booth.
"Sirius, do watch your tongue around him. The other day he said the b-word to my mother. But, don't worry, she knew it didn't come from me," Hermione clarified. With a trying gesture, she sat up to watch the other team's chaser score.
Sirius smiled down at the boy, laughing his loud bark-like laugh. "Did you call Grandma Granger a naughty word?" Though trying not to encourage, he couldn't help but give the boy a proud kiss on his head as he hugged him close, while whispering about the play that just happened.
"Don't encourage him!" the angelic voice threatened.
Sirius turned around to face his less than enthusiastic wife with an innocent face. "I wasn't, my love. Just merely whispering to him about the play."
She smirked at him with a sly eye, "Only part of me believes you."
"Go Unka Harry!" the young boy yelled in a feeble voice, trying desperately to mock his father. Sirius spun around to catch whatever it was he had missed, but he was too late. Never mind anyway, the older wizard just beamed, looking at the small boy as if he had just said the most profound thing.
Quieter than usual in the V.I.P., it was only the second game into the season and they were the visiting team. Except for a few teenagers getting drunk on butter beer and the few other stock holders, the booth was relatively empty, making it a very safe and secure environment for a two year-old.
Though Harry treated him like one of his own, he was still only like an uncle, not the godfather. Much to Sirius's detestation, Hermione hadn't even brought up the topic for debate when she had announced at dinner to their friends that Severus Snape was going to be the baby's godfather. At first, Sirius was about to object, but seeing as his wife was nine months pregnant at the time; he wasn't going to win any argument. Not even if she had announced that she wanted to buy the entire island of Australia would he object, because for her, he would get her anything to make her happy. And that included not saying a single word about Snape being the first child's godfather.
The general idea repulsed Sirius to no end that a child of his and Snape's name would share an official parchment from the Ministry, but again, he had no say. His only compromise was that they would immediately try for another baby, so that Harry could be the rightful godfather of one of his children. That is…when Hermione was ready, of course.
"Rigel, can mummy have a hug from her little man?" Hermione asked sweetly with her arms outstretched.
Sirius gently placed the young boy on the floor, letting him run to his mother with strong confident steps of a toddler. Wrapping himself halfway around his mother with his short little arms, Hermione hugged him tightly, laying a kiss on the crown of his head that was covered in thick black curls. Sirius came over and picked up his butter beer bottle to take a swig before going back to the lean bar to get a glimpse of the last few plays left in the game.
He leaned casually, resting his elbows on the lean bar, holding his beer in his hands. While still stroking her son's head lovingly, Hermione's eyes traveled up the length of the handsome older wizard she shared a family with. He practically strutted back over to the lean bar, but as she quickly learned to realize, that was just his normal swagger.
With a flutter in her heart, still even now, she smirked as she admired how well he filled out his faded blue jeans that he wore with thick motorcycle boots peeking out from under the tattered slightly flared cuff. The denim creased where it should, giving the alluring appeal that he wore the jeans like they were made for him in mind.
Sirius sensed her. He'd learned to hone in on what was Hermione and what anything else. He knew sometimes what she was thinking. He knew when she was about to go into labor. He knew when she was frightened for him when he challenged himself and went out on a restricted raid and nearly lost his life…again. More importantly, he knew when she was looking at him.
Sirius glanced back over his shoulder while still leaning over the spectator's lean bar and gave her a flirty signature wink. It was only meant for her, and he offered it only for her to see. He knew he could always get her that way and when he saw the way she bit her lower lip, he knew he'd succeeded.
"Daddy," the young boy called out. When Sirius looked back, the smaller version of him took at him with a run, slamming lovingly into his leg, hoping to get picked up again and to see the golden ball flutter passed again.
"Anything more for you, Mistress Black?" the house elf approaching Hermione asked.
With a grateful thank you, she sent the elf away, hoping that the drunken teenagers in the corner didn't leave too much of a mess. Having a family of three probably wasn't any better, but at least there wasn't going to be dozens of empty butter beer bottles lying around.
Having excused the house elf deprived Hermione of catching the final play, Harry catching the golden snitch. However, she was just in time to witness her husband of nearly four years teaching their son the victory dance. It warmed her cheeks and tickled her insides at the sight.
Hermione pulled the soft blanket off of her and she slowly set her feet down on the floor, one at a time. She waited for Sirius to get closer, before she offered her hands to help her up.
"You ready for a few more pints at the pub, love?" he asked with a teasing twinkle in his eye.
Hermione's eyes darkened, having not even found a smidgen of humor in his question and allowed her hormones to change character for her. "Yes, that's exactly what I want, right now."
Sensing her lack of humor, Sirius quickly leaned over and kissed both the tops of her hands before taking hold of them and pulling her up off the couch. Once she stood upright and balanced, he placed a hand over her swollen belly and ducked in for a kiss on those sweet lips that always made him feel secure.
"It's a boy," he whispered before kissing her.
"Stop it, I told you it's a girl," she said, kissing him back.
"I know it is," he said stubbornly. He swooped down and picked up young Rigel and placed a hand against Hermione's back.
"Stop being so stubborn. It's a girl. You know I'm right, don't argue with the dreams."
Sirius chuckled under his breath as he lifted Rigel onto his shoulders, feeling the little hands quickly cup securely around his father's brow.
"If your dreams are correct, then I'll personally take Snivellus to dinner. His choice."
Hermione reached for her husband's hand, "You might as well start making reservations now, love."
By: Serade Black