Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Sequel to Rita Arabella Black's Memories Not Lost

Chapter one

The Pain of Death

Harry stood close watching as they lowered the casket. The day was warm, the skies were blue. One could go as far to mention the birds were singing. It all just made him feel sick. The guilt burned down the back of his throat as he choked back his emotions. He shuddered, unsure what to feel. He had hated this man for so long, but now his heart ached for him. How foolishly naïve he had been when it come to his potions professor. With that surly expression and that cold heart, how could one think well of the man?

He looked up squinting slightly and frowned. His emotion were twisted up over Snape. The man. The legend.

So many people stood here by his word alone. He wondered how many would stand by his grave if he hadn't become a war hero. How many people came to say fair well to a friend?

Scanning the faces, Harry found it sad knowing how few were here to honour the man. A few of the Hogwarts staff and the Malfoy's. It wasn't much of a show.

Then he spotted her. A woman of such great beauty that took his breath away, stood slightly off to the side, her amber eyes filled with unshed tears. Amongst the crowd this woman stood out the clearest. Her distress over Severus was written across her beautiful face. Harry could feel his heart tightening looking at her. Something so beautiful, should never look so broken.

"Are you alright mate?" Ron's hand dropped onto his shoulder. Harry looked up, a grim smile forced across his lips.

"Is it just me, or are these getting harder?" Harry whispered, trying to keep the despair from his tone.

"It's not just you." Hermione, sniffed on his other side.

Harry had been grateful for his friends over the pass few days. Each funeral was slowly eating away at him. He knew he would never be able to save everyone but it still didn't mean it didn't hurt when he couldn't.

Fred's funeral had been hard but not the worst. No Colin's had been devastating. Harry shut his eyes, swallowing hard. He tried to steady his breaths. He tried not to think of Dennis and his parents. He tried not to think of the kid with the camera who was to young to be put under the earth. The kid that hadn't even had a chance to become a man yet.

Fred knew what he was getting into but Colin, he heart shuddered. Trying to distract himself he sort out the woman with amber-coloured eyes and chestnut brown hair that shone golden reflects under the condescending sun. He searched but she was nowhere to be found. He sighed, wondering who she was. He would probably never know but he wonder why a beautiful woman would be hurting over a man like Severus Snape.

"Come on Harry." Ron's hand tightened on his shoulder leading him away as earth shattered against the casket.

Harry took one last glance round, deciding this was the worst funeral. Harry couldn't bare the thought of someone like Snape who achieved so much in his lifetime, had been the key player in the dark Lord's defeat but had not a single friend there to say goodbye to him. Harry sighing defeated. His heart went out to the man.

"Let's go."

It had been days since the last funeral and Harry was still avoiding the world. The ancient house of Black was the last place Harry thought he'd ever find solace. He couldn't bring himself to go over to the burrow where his family was grieving for their son. The blood on his hands was still to new. He never thought he could feel guilt about ending a life, certainly not Voldemort's but he did. Despite the world praising him for killing him, he still felt very wrong. Here in the darkness of Grimmauld Place he could think clearly. Kreacher left him to his own devises most of the time. On this particular day Harry found the elf hauling unopened letter.

"Can I have a look at that?" Harry held out his hand for the letter. Kreacher hesitated for a moment before handing them up.

"It's just an old letter for Sirius."

Harry frowned. "When did it get here?"

"The day he broke loose from Azkban."

"Why didn't you give it to him?"

Kreacher ears twitched. "I left it somewhere he could find."

Harry glare knowing to well that this letter hadn't seen the light of day in years. "I will go make you some tea." Kreacher made a quick excuse to take his leave. Harry shook his head watching the elf disappear from sight. He sighed, still not sure what he was going to do with the house-elf. He looked down at the letter in his hand.

The elegant writing on the front was neat and clear. Harry looked at Sirius's name boldly stated on the envelope wondering if it was right to open someone else's mail. Think of what his Godfather would probably do, he flipped it over. His finger slicing open the seal marked by a coat and arms. Harry didn't recognise the symbol but it looked like a family crest. He shrugged it off pulling out the letter.

Sirius Black,

I dare not send you this message while you were in Azkban, and I refuse to put this precious information through the post. Nothing is safe anymore, nor trust worthy. Just know, nothing is as it seems. I wish we had a chance to tell you this years ago but it wasn't safe. It still isn't safe. I have arranged a meeting point, look to the personal ads on the twenty second of March.

M Grimaldi

Grimaldi? Why did that name feel so familiar. Harry racked his brain until the penny finally dropped. Sirius's wife Demetra maiden name had been Grimaldi. It seemed like a thousand years ago that Harry had sat here listening to Sirius speak of a woman he had never meet. Harry remember the pain in his Godfather's eyes as he spoke of his wife and daughter. Only for a brief second had he mentioned Demetra's sister. Sirius said Demetra's sister had been in the French ministry undercover.

Harry tried to remember the woman's name, he was certain it started with an M. Marleen, no. Marion, no that wasn't it either.

Marisol.

Marisol Grimaldi.

"Kreacher." Called Harry.

With a pop the house-elf appeared. He bowed lowly trying to amend for his past sins. "I need the newspaper from the week Sirius escaped."

The house-elf nodded and with a crack, was gone again. It was mere moments until he reappeared. The second Harry had the paper Kreacher quickly made an excuse to get away. Harry barely noticed tho, his eyes scanned the paper. It didn't take him long to locate the hidden message.

It was under the lost and found section. It was all there in black and white.

Lost Dog

Goes by the name of Padfoot.

He is a big Black furry dog with fleas.

Loud and loveable personality.

His family misses him terribly.

If anyone knows his whereabouts, please floo-call 82 Ingermall Street

Harry didn't hesitate jumping up to the fire place. It was unlikely there would be anyone still there now but he had to know. Some part of his mind knew he was clutching at straws, trying to find anything to avoid dealing with the loss of more loved ones. But he couldn't help but wonder. As the flames turned green he stepped inside calling out the address.

Coughing and spluttering he stepped out of the floo on the other end. Harry still found it to be an unpleasant way to travel. He dusted the soot off his jacket before looking up. He frown at the empty and abandoned room. Dust and cobwebs coated the tin walls from top to bottom. It took Harry a moment to realise that it was no more then a shed he stood in. Briefly he wondered if this place had been built purely for a meeting point. He studied the contents of the room. All that was left in the room was a table, with a small rectangular shaped box. Harry moved towards it. Snatching it up in his hands, he was stunned to see a muggle device. He turned the tape recorder to the side and pressed play.