Sirius was reluctant to give Veronica's letter to Snape.

It didn't feel right, not after what the potion's master had said right before she had left. Sirius had wanted to throw his wand away and throttle him bare handed in that moment, but he knew it would only make things worse.

But he certainly didn't let the incident drop. Even if it made himself look like a proper ass, Sirius made sure the Severus knew exactly how awful what he said really was.

At first Severus had fought back, defensive to the core when the handsome wizard flat out told him that even if he hadn't slept with Veronica, he had treated her better than Severus ever had.

Were Severus a younger man, still hotheaded and full of unbridled rage, he would have killed the man.

But instead, he simply sneered and told Sirius he was just bitter because his time as a lapdog was done with.

But each time Sirius made a smart remark, Severus's rebuttals became weaker, until eventually they stopped all together and he bore his shame in silence.

He knew what he said was out of line, spoken in spiteful anger with the pure intent to cut her deep. At from the way it looked now, it seemed he would never get a chance to apologize.

That is until he got a letter.

Dear Severus,

I don't like how we left things, but I want you to know I'm still hurt from what you said.

But how I feel isn't the issue right now, our son is.

He misses his father, and even though I know I can not come to you, and you can not come to us, I think there might be a way that he can find comfort in you even if you are so far away….

Severus read the rest of the letter quickly and all but leapt into action. The plan was simple, and he sat up all night carrying it out.

Sirius hand delivered the large burgundy envelope with a look of slight displeasure, but Veronica only offered him a small smile.

"He deserves to hear from his father, Sirius."

"I know, I know." Black sighed. "It's just…well you know my thoughts about the man. And nothing I have seen has changed them."

"I know." Veronica nodded. "Is it terrible to say that I miss him?"

"No" Sirius grumbled. "Just sad."

"Sad?"

"Yes, sad." Sirius sat at her table and nodded his thanks as she sat a cup of tea in front of him. "It's sad that someone as kind as you would be devoted to someone like him."

Veronica shrugged. "I guess you just don't know him as I do."

"I've known him for over twenty years." Sirius scoffed.

"Yes." Veronica agreed. "But not as I do."

Sirius left at sun set, using a special portkey the order made illegally so it could not be tracked.

That night, after being fed and washed, Valerian began to fuss once more. He squirmed and bayed unhappily until his mother reached for the red envelope on the table and cut the wax seal with a knife.

As soon as its seal was slashed, the envelope jerked and shivered to life. The folded lip of the paper formed a mouth and two large, oval eyes of dark brown blinked on the surface before floating over the cradle and peering down at the baby.

Valerian paid it no mind and continued to sob until a familiar baritone began to speak over his crib.

Veronica leaned on the bedroom door and watched with a knowing smile as the baby's cries cut off and he stared curiously at the talking paper that carried his father's soothing tone.

The letter went on for hours, and Veronica realized Severus had made sure to transcribe every children's story he could think of into the letter. It wasn't long before the baby had drifted off to sleep, but Veronica continued to listen.

Not to the words, just to the voice. It's timbre, the way it rose and fell slightly as the stories went on. The rich quality of the bass in certain words and the softness, almost gentleness, of others.

God, how she wished she could see the owner of that voice once again.

It was true that she was still hurt from what he said. And it made her realize that there were sides of Severus that she wasn't fully familiar with. Ugly sides that he hid from her.

But there were sides she hid from him to. No one is perfect.

She didn't intend for this separation to be forever, but she realized that it was necessary if they were to survive this madness.

He needed to be able to do his job without worrying about her safety. And she needed to keep her child safe without darkness breathing down her neck like rabid wolves.

She crawled into bed and closed her eyes, still listened until the tone of the letter changed.

"Valerian." The letter spoke in the familiar voice. "One more thing, son. I want you to tell your mother something."

Veronica sat up and stared at the floating letter and realized it was looking at her now, not the baby. The large eyes seemed to convey that emotion that words carried.

"Tell her that I'm sorry for everything. She was right to leave, and I was too selfish to realize that she needed to get away even more than I needed her to stay. Tell her I was a cruel fool for saying what I did, you're too young to understand it, but it was awful, and she didn't deserve it. I was angry, and stupid, and I wanted to hurt her, and I did, and now I realize I might've well cut off my own arm than leave her there like I did. I don't expect her to forgive me. Frankly I can't even forgive myself. But I need her to know that I'm sorry. That I will love her no matter where she goes or how long she's away from me, because when she left, she took part of my heart with her."

The Letter ended and sealed itself back up, ready for the next time it might be needed, and fell to the floor. But Veronica didn't rush to pick it up, she was too busy wiping the hot tears from her face.

Tear of happiness, yes; but also tears of sorrow, and regret for not rushing up those stairs after him when she had the chance. And tears of gratitude that he had realized his mistake, and she could run back to him without feeling like an idiot.

She stopped crying when Valerian squirmed in his bed and held her breath as she picked up the letter and slipped it into her bedside table for safe keeping before slipping into bed.

Suddenly, the left side of the mattress didn't feel so empty.