Chapter 1: Three Years Later

A portly woman in the doorway shook the fussy babies harder and leaned a little harder on the intercom button. Finally, a gravelly male voice answered.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Furensō?"

"Maybe. Who are you?"

The woman rolled her eyes at the young war hero's response.

"My name is Isabella Edevane, Mr. Furensō. I'm from the Ministry's Child Welfare Department and I'd like to speak with you, please."

There was a long silence. "Why are you here?" he finally replied.

Mrs. Edevane frowned at the intercom. She really didn't like Muggle devices, but she was adept at getting around in the Muggle world and could certainly understand why Furensō DarkRock would choose an apartment in London rather than living in Diagon Alley.

"Mr. Furensō, really. I don't want to stand here on the porch arguing with your wall, can I come up?"

"Oh, sure. Wait."

The door rang a moment later and Mrs. Edevane soon climbed the rickety stairs and found herself being escorted to Furensō's apartment. It was much cleaner than most young single men's homes, in her experience, had only a minimal amount of clutter and only a box of leftover takeout on the coffee table. A small layer of dust covered most surfaces, but it was definitely a home rather than the pigsty she would have expected ... maybe she shouldn't have judged it so soon.

The young man had obviously just woken up, which was also understandable. The Quidditch World Cup had been played in Spain only four days ago, and the game had lasted a staggering twenty hours before Furensō caught the snitch, winning the Cup for England by only ten points.

She gave him a professional look, noting his black Muggle shorts, bare feet, and tight white t-shirt giving her an incredible view of the broad, muscular chest of a professional athlete. Even though she was old enough to be his grandmother, Mrs. Edevane could still appreciate the masculine beauty; if only she were 30 years younger she would already be riding him till she was tired, and she didn't lack the desire because he was truly endowed when she gave him a small glance at the large bulge in the war hero's shorts.

More importantly, he couldn't detect any sign of **** or **** use on him, nor was there the scent of a woman in the room. Overall, Furensō met with her complete approval and made her feel much more confident about fulfilling her professional duties this morning.

And she already understood why so many couples chose this muscle boy's Super Sperm with the intention of having babies, no doubt she would have done so too if she'd had the chance.

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Edevane?" said DarkRock politely, blinking at her. Her coal-dark eyes no longer reflected that coldness of years past, but the exotic black hair was messy and sticking out in all different directions remained the same as ever. Her resemblance to the twins was obvious.

"These, Mr. Furensō, are Diana and Delia. Your daughters," Isabella told him, turning the babies in his arms to face their biological father.

The coal-dark eyes met the two pairs of coal-dark eyes, and the huge man and the twins exchanged dubious, confused glances.

"I beg your pardon?" managed to ask DarkRock. "My daughters?"

The witch looked up from the twins and then focused her gaze on the war hero.

"Yes, Mr. Furensō. Your daughters."

Diana and Delia's faces scrunched up and their backs arched in disgust. They managed to stuff most of their chubby fingers into their mouths, drooling copiously, and gave their father a furious look.

"Well ... uh ... Who's his mother? I may not be a monk, but I've always been very careful," DarkRock assured with a hint of nervousness at the end of his words.

"Not at all, my boy. You see, there's a bit of tragedy there. Her parents, Noelle and Stefan Douglas, died earlier this month while celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Bad oysters, I understand."

Furensō transferred his confused gaze from the twins to Mrs. Edevane. "Noelle... Douglas, did you say? I don't think I've ever met a woman by that name..."

-No, I daresay you hadn't," Mrs. Edevane nodded cheerfully.

The young man with tousled black spiky hair raised an eyebrow.

"Then how can these be my daughters?"

"Well, you see, Mr. and Mrs. Douglas were patients of Bob Sallow, at St. Mungos, for several years. They had been trying to conceive a baby for quite some time and were unsuccessful until two years ago."

Mrs. Edevane smiled at Furensō, which only confused him more.

"I'm sorry, I really don't understand..." admitted DarkRock as he scratched the back of his head with his right hand.

Diana and Delia began to fret even more, and Mrs. Edevane sat down on Furensō's couch uninvited. She pulled a bag from her pocket and quickly enlarged it, pulling out two prepared bottles, two bibs, and a large flannel. With the ease of long practice, he quickly warmed the bottles, tested them and dipped it into both girls' mouths.

"The twins are almost a year old now," she continued as if there had been no interruption, "so they won't be taking the bottle for much longer. They are already eating cereal, and have introduced her to strained vegetables and pureed chicken. They have a great appetite and sleep pretty well through the night. All of his vaccinations are up to date, and our doctors have examined him and he has been declared the picture of health. You should be very proud, Mr. Furensō. You have two very healthy babies."

The twins' father still gawked at her, and Mrs. Edevane decided to be firm with him.

"Some tea, Mr. Furensō. Maybe that will help you understand the situation."

"Um, right. Tea." He started to head for the bedroom, then changed his mind and headed for the kitchen, then turned again and looked at the fireplace unsure of what to do.

"Do you have a house elf, Mr. Furensō?" he asked kindly, and our beloved protagonist finally seemed to snap out of his daze.

"Right. Yes, I do. winky!" called DarkRock.

A long moment later, a house elf appeared, her little dishcloth robe neat and tidy. She belonged to Harry Potter, but now answered to Furensō because the former left a will where he made it clear that Winky was free and of her own accord decided to continue giving her services to a certain war hero.

"Oh, master DarkRock, are you at home? Winky is a bad elf, she didn't know it. Winky will punish herself right away, right after cleaning the apartment and doing the laundry. Master DarkRock wants breakfast? Winky will cook lots of eggs and ham, and tomatoes..."

"No. Take it easy, Winky. It's not that," Furensō interrupted the menu with a touch of sadness because he never said no to food. "Right now, I just want some tea for me and Mrs. Edevane. And it's not your fault, I told you I'd be in Spain until next week. I got home a couple of hours ago."

The little elf disappeared and DarkRock sank onto the couch, never taking his eyes off the twin girls with tousled spiky black hair in Mrs. Edevane's arms. The girls looked at him the same way, peering over the top of the bottle, but never ceasing to tug diligently at the nipple.

"Mrs. Edevane, I apologize for being so clueless, but I got home yesterday and it's been a brutal season. Could you start from the beginning and tell me how a woman I've never met has two little girls who look like .... Two copies of me?"

The adult woman nodded her head in understanding at the war hero's expression.

"I understand, Mr. Furensō. I've been to more than one of your games, and you are one of the most dedicated players to ever take the field. Now, for starters, Bob Sallow, as you know, is a healer at St. Mungos."

The young man with tousled black spiky hair made a memory and quickly recalled that guy with the gift of gab.

"Yes, I remember him," DarkRock said as he poured the tea that had materialized on the table. "He was one of my most frequent visitors when I was in the hospital after the war."

The adult woman made a strange smile because she was aware of why such visits from the healer.

"Yes, of course he was. Now, Bob Sallow is a highly respected healer, but he specializes in a field usually relegated to midwives and hedge witches. He has revolutionized the treatment of infertility in witches who are past a certain age, or whose pureblood ancestry has jeopardized their ability to procreate."

Furensō choked on his tea at that last word from the caretaker because he somehow had a feeling that made him shudder.

"I see you just remembered, Mr. Furensō," Mrs. Edevane said happily at the huge stallion's reaction. "Bob Sallow was quite effusive in praising your GREAT generosity. His name came up while we were researching the Douglas' records and, in turn, he pointed us to you," she explained with a small smile at the war hero's reaction.

The coal-dark-eyed young man swallowed saliva at the older woman's words.

"I remember him convincing me to donate some ... s-samples," DarkRock stammered as he thought of all those plentiful sperm samples he donated during that week he was at St. Mungos.