home is where the heart is (and you hold mine)

hazards of being a necromancer (it could be twins!)

Author's Notes:

It's another fucking giganormous chapter and it only covers 2 days of stuff... this chapter was originally going to be one thing but I ended up adding more to it, so it was like 20K and so I split it in half so that I didn't swamp all of you XD the next chapter should be out soon- I just have to go through it right quick.

(Do you guys like the title?)

Also,  just as a random disclaimer, I do not own Harry Potter, all rights go to J.K.Rowling and Dobby the Free Elf. I only own the plot. This is not used to make any money - all for entertainment and self-indulgent purpose.

Chapter 12

hazards of being a necromancer (it could be twins!)

Dear Snuffles,

I have a lot of news for you but some of it can't be said in the letter; it's not safe and I can't trust that Soleil won't be intercepted.

I need you to request a truce meeting between me and Riddle (VDM) with Narcissa Black-Malfoy being the neutral party between us. Please Snuffles, please.

It will be explained, I promise you, but I need you to do this and then we can be safe. Ron and Hermione are with me, and it's not safe for them either, not until we can secure this meeting.

Remus has probably filled you in on what happened at Grimmauld and there was an explanation with me not telling you already, I promise.

Love you,

Your godson

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Sirius fingered the edge of the parchment, replayed the words over and over in his head.

Please, Snuffles, please...

Harry was pleading with him. Harry didn't plead, he didn't beg. To joke, yes but otherwise? Never did he do that. This was serious, this had to be life or death type serious, for Harry to do that.

And the truce meeting? To call a truce meeting with the man that had tortured Harry, killed his parents, and put him in multiple dangerous situations with the intent to kill Harry? He had made that clear under no uncertain terms, so Sirius knew that there was an underlying thing that was causing this. It reeked of it.

And Sirius was doing nothing until he knew what was going on because by Merlin, he wasn't going to let Harry use himself for Sirius' own safety and be a fucking martyr. Not on his watch; it was not his job to do that.

The wards to the Black Manor pinged, alerting Sirius to the fact that Remus had entered through them. Sirius turned on his heel and stalked out of the drawing room attached to his bedroom, intent on getting answers to all of his questions and misgivings, and went to search the manor for his last living friend.

He found Remus slumped in a chair in the family parlor, looking so mentally exhausted and weary that Sirius actually faltered in his steps.

He bolstered himself — he needed to find out. "Harry wrote," he announced with no preamble. Remus shot up and twisted around to look at him; his amber-green eyes were frantic and crazed.

"Is he okay? Is he safe?" Remus was clutching the seat so hard that the fabric was being drawn upwards and a seam ripped.

Sirius nodded slowly.