Chapter Three

Warning: established relationship (completely forgot to put that earlier)

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The room was horribly awkward when Harry finally entered it. He paused in the doorway to examine the situation and try to figure out a nice way to bounce into it. Pitch was sitting loosely in a high back chair, a facial expression that said he was bored and body language that said 'stay away'. His long fingers barely held his cup of steaming chocolate while his eyes bore into the wall over North's shoulder. Speaking of North, the giant Russian was sitting on the edge of his chair, practically bouncing with a smile of absolute bliss on his face as though he couldn't feel the static in the air. Bunnymund was slouched next to the largest Guardian, his aura admitting defeat already. Tooth wasn't actually sitting. She had gone to a corner and was whispering to a few of her little copies that seemed to be giving her some news. And Jack… well, he looked as though he were trying to come up with something to say but each time he opened his mouth a glowing golden eyes would latch onto him, he would fall silent once more.

Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh hysterically just to see if it would help matters or ignore the atmosphere as best as he could and try to shine some kind of light onto this horrible setting. After a short debate, the lesser of two evils won and Harry forced a smile onto his face and walked further into the room.

"North is that your special homemade chocolate? I swear that I never, ever had better hot chocolate than yours!" Harry babbled as he grabbed the extra mug from the table. He took a sip and let out a sigh of utter contentment as the rich, delicious sweetness bathed his taste buds and sent him to heaven and back. "I've tried to recreate this and haven't gotten close. I think Sev is the—."

Whatever Harry was going to say was cut off in a squeak due to the King of Nightmares suddenly pushing himself to his feet. The Guardians tensed, their muscles ready for a single sign that the spirit was going to hurt Harry again but instead, the robed man began to pace quickly back and forth. His lips moved in a way that stated he was probably muttering more nasty words under his breath but none that they could make out.

"I've never seen him this steamed," Jack muttered to Harry, his icy breath chilling his cheeks. Harry looked back to the spirit. His face seemed rather calm and his hands were behind his back but just the way he stared at whatever passed his face and the sneer within his eyes, this man was past 'steam'. He was in lava stage and it was only a matter of time before he burned someone to ashes.

"Oi, I'm tired of this! I could be doing fifty other things right now and none of them involve the four of you. We're getting this settled right now so YOU!" Bunnymund pointed to the angered spirit of nightmares who had stopped pacing at the start of his sudden outburst. Pitch stared at him with glowing eyes, the twist of his mouth stating that he was obviously unimpressed, "Sit down and tell us why Death has your knickers in a twist."

"He does not have my 'knickers in a twist' as you so rudely put it," Pitch drawled as he practically glided to the chair. This guy was a jack of many emotions although they all ranged from anger to cool indifference. Harry liked the latter the best and hoped that it would last. He took another sip of his chocolate delight and idly attempted to think of a reason as to why he would be the center of Pitch's hatred. It was definitely silly seeing as they had never met before this day but he had obviously done something. Now all he had to do was solve what he had done, other than mentioning Severus by name, and try to help the fear spirit.

"What did he do to anger you, Pitch?" North phrased the large bunny's question differently and in a way that would not offend the older spirit. Pitch stayed silent, staring over the Guardian's shoulder with sad glowing eyes.

"What would you do, North, if one day… out of the blue, you wake up to find Bunnymund had upped and disappeared?" Pitch inquired thoughtfully as though he weren't really aware that he was speaking. The Russian paused and his face drew up in confusion, obviously not quite understanding what this had to do with anything. He glanced at the tattooed pooka who looked just as confused.

"I would look for him. Check everywhere he would go and then everywhere he wouldn't go," North answered truthfully. Pitch smiled a sickly little smile that said he had expected the answer and was even happy to have heard it.

"Yes… and if you could not find him? You would continue to search, yes? Enemies would be discovered, homes would be overturned and friends questioned. It is quite reasonable but what if your search proved futile for decades?" he continued. North swallowed hard but did not take his eyes away from Pitch. The spirit was hurting and he was hurting horribly. It was almost as though his entire soul had been ripped from his body, one strand at a time until all that remained was a festering wound of hatred and despair.

"I…" North didn't want to continue the statement. He was absolutely lost without Bunnymund and their banter. He loved his tall bunny and would do anything for him. If he awakened and saw that he was gone, not in his warren, not in anyone else's realm but just… gone. North was sure that he would go insane if that ever happened. He would try to function but slowly and surely, he would sink deeper and deeper into depression until it consumed his mind and twisted his soul. He would… he would become like Pitch.

"What if, one day, you found that E. Aster Bunnymund rolled from your bed and left of his own will? He left without saying anything to you, without giving a single word or leaving a note. He disappeared entirely and there was nothing you could do to find him much less attempt to convince him to come back. And then…" Pitch stood smoothly to his feet, coming to tower over North, arms folded over his chest and his expression cold, harsh.

Nicolas St. North wanted nothing more than for Pitch Black to stop speaking his words of abandonment. Fear was beginning to grip his heart, twist it like a physical hand as though his mate had truly left him. North knew that it was silly, Bunny would never do that but he reached to take the other's paw… only to find that it wasn't there. North's mouth went dry immediately and his chest began to heave painfully fast. He wanted to turn his head to assure himself that his pooka was indeed there, that he had not been left in this battle with Pitch completely alone but he just couldn't tear his eyes away from the glowing orbs before him.

"Then you discover that the reason he was gone, the reason why he left you alone in the darkness of your own mind was for another man. You find out that the decades you spent searching for Bunnymund—the decades you waited for Aster to return with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company was because you were nothing more than a passing fancy. You could not keep his interest and what is worse is that you could and still cannot do anything to stop him. Then, after these long decades have passed, he returns, waiting for you in your home as he had done most days before his departure. He returns to your side with whispers spoken in oily tones but without an apology. He comes to you and expects you to open your arms without question while his other lover boards in his home as though you are the mistress. He treats you are though you are the dirty secret that has no true place in his life and you realize that yes, he is correct. You don't have a real place in his life. You are disposable."

If North's heart could pound any harder, it would have given him a new tattoo as the grey skinned spirit bore down on him with his silky words and dark images that promoted nothing but madness. The cold that had started around them seemed unbearable, the loneliness that echoed in his mind was suffocating, the silence deafening. He couldn't breathe, he could speak and he just couldn't look away.

Suddenly Pitch pulled back until he was a reasonable distance away and, just like that, the spell was broken. Warmth rushed into his body like a burning inferno and the soft paw of Aster encased his hand. He tightened his fingers over the digits, uncaring that he could hurt his other half because he just couldn't shake the words Pitch had planted within his mind and the utter loneliness he felt. It tore at his very soul and he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to find that part of him that was now gone.

"NORTH!" The large Russian blinked and stared into the bright blue eyes of his almost-son and fellow winter spirit. The poor boy looked very worried for him, his eyes roving his face while Tooth flitted over the white haired spirit's shoulder. She snapped her fingers rapidly in his ears and in front of his face with an anxious expression on her pretty face.

"I'm sorry," he rumbled, bringing up his free hand to rub at his eyes. There weren't any tears but they burned with what he truly wanted to do, "What were you saying Jack?"

"What did you do to him, Pitch!?" Aster jumped from his seat, pulling his hand from North's grasp. Or at least he tried but found that the other had a stranglehold on him and wouldn't let him go, not even for righteous, protective anger. North looked over Jack's shoulder and saw Pitch leaning against the fireplace, a smirk on his lips but it wasn't one of his many cruel smirks that told everyone that he didn't think they were worth his time much less effort. No, this smirk was a rather sad, wistful one. It was for North and only North because now, someone understood exactly what Pitch felt and he now shared his pain.

"I simply told him what 'has my knickers in a twist' Aster, no need to become so… violent. Now, I simply must go. Thank you for the lovely chat, North," Pitch bowed mockingly and disappeared in a flurry of black sand up the chimney and far away within seconds. The room descended into silence once more, the Guardians and Harry staring at the spot where Pitch had resided seconds before.

"… I'm confused again," Harry admitted first.

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Sirius tapped his fingers against the mirror that he still stood before although he no longer could see the green eyed spirit that he had practically adopted. He loved that boy as though he were his own son or, better yet, a godson that he never got the chance to have but, having said that, he was under no illusion of just how blind Harry could be. He had yet (and probably never would) numbed himself to the deaths that happened every second of every day and he hadn't come to the realization that he lived with the man that often organized deaths or simply allowed them to happen while collecting their souls. This, of course, never went over well with Death for that man wasn't patient with people by any means.

Speaking of Death, Severus was a whole different can of worms entirely. The man was nasty, bitter, and did not give slack to anyone no matter if they deserved it. He had the emotional understanding and the manners of a dragon with a splinter and was about as scary as one as well. Not that Sirius was frightened of the old spirit, it was practically impossible for him to be scared of that disgruntled man. However, he was shocked that he wasn't in the Underworld right at this second, ranting and raving about Harry's supposed stupidity and complete lack of respect.

As Severus's 'underling' he knew things about that man that no one else could possibly hope to grasp and as his brother, he worried about him. He could feel that something was wrong with the greasy bastard and it would have to be fixed if only because Sirius didn't like feeling things for him other than hatred. Of course he would have to find a free Reaper and have them watch over things while he searched for Death… who would have thought, Hades going to help Death of his own free will?

"What is your decision, Hades?" a slippery voice hissed gently. Sirius started at the sound of another being in the room with him and realized that he was still in a meeting. Well then, this put a halt in his search and rescue mission. Okay, first get rid of the odd guy in his conference room then go look for Severus… as soon as he figured out what they were talking about before Harry's call pulled him away.

"Before I address your question, I have to remind you that my name isn't Hades any more—do people even remember that name beyond that horrid cartoon? My name is Sirius now," Sirius corrected the man for the fifth time then his face became thoughtful as he finally recalled what they were talking about. Oh yeah, this was going to be so much fun! He smiled pleasantly at the man before him and got himself comfortable in the chair across from the stranger. "Now as to your little question and, consequently, your proposal… I'd tell you to go to Hell but one, you're already here and two, I wouldn't want you near me for much longer."

The man sputtered with his mouth agape and his eyes as wide as dinner plates. Whoever said that Sirius lost his touch in infuriating people could officially eat his words. He hadn't seen that look on Severus for over three centuries and the man was painfully easy to rile up with the right words or two. But he was back baby!

"No offense, uh… Charles…?" Sirius quirked an eyebrow in that absolutely maddening way that Severus did and applied a tone that he often used when he knew exactly what someone name was but he was too lazy and disrespectful to bother to bring it forth.

"It's Voldemort," the man chewed out in the kind of way that said he would very much like to kill Sirius in the most painful way possible. It was hysterical just to think about because really, it would take a miracle (and some serious power) for the handsome (albeit red-eyed) man to kill him and then keep him dead without Severus coming back and ripping the guy's soul a new hole. Okay, that part wasn't funny because that actually hurt! Like it hurt a shitload. Then again if this man killed him then he deserved to have Severus tear into his soul. Sirius pulled himself away from those thoughts and bounced in his seat, leaning back in it in more show of nonchalance. He folded his hands behind his head, feeling the burning flames caress his laced fingers.

"Okay, Voldemort, I'm not going to lie to you. I'm not rejecting you because I don't like you… actually wait, no, I don't like you but that has nothing to do with it. See, what you're saying is so very stupid that I couldn't even consider your offer and that's what I don't like about you. This doesn't seem like some harebrained scheme that you cooked up this morning with only seconds to spare. No, you actually seemed to have put thought behind it and as soon as you said 'let's snuff Death' I completely tuned you out. Sorry but it's true."

Sirius admitted with a shrug and the air of someone that wasn't sorry in the least. Although Sirius didn't act or look very intelligent, he was extremely smart. After all Severus didn't keep him around for his sweet loving and good looks (that honor went to some dude that was probably just as much of an asshole as Severus). Voldemort didn't seem to believe his answer for he was still sitting only now he was leaning forward, so much so that a few guards stepped a bit closer just in case the red eyed man thought he could attack him.

"Are you not tired of being Death's whipping boy? Do you not fear that one day he will get tired of you and toss you to the side, kill you where you stand because he does not see you fit to serve him any longer? Because that is what will happen—he will become bored of you one of these days and he will throw you to the side before you can even protest like a piece of trash," Voldemort warned him, eyes boring in his face. Had Sirius been any other person under Severus's command or just not himself, he might have believed this odd individual. He might have turned to his side so fast that it would make Death's head spin but he wasn't another person under Severus's command and he was himself. So the answer was still no.

"Yeahhhh… you see, the problem with that little ominous warning is that I'm not his 'whipping boy' any more than you're likely to convert me. Even if I wasn't completely loyal to Severus—Death as you seem to love calling him—there isn't anyone stupid enough to believe that he is at all beatable. You can't conquer Death, you won't get that glory. You will never succeed and will definitely die attempting to do so. Now that I think about it, do I know you?" Sirius tilted his head and abruptly straightened in his seat. His eyes scoured the handsomely sculpted face from the strong nose, full lips that curved down in a frown and glowing red eyes. The man had short brown hair in a stylish cut and he looked to be rather fit with broad shoulders and lean muscles. The more he looked at him, the more familiar he seemed but Sirius just couldn't quite grasp the image to the fullest extent. It was annoying him now that the thought latched onto him and he knew that he would have to speak with Severus about this when he went to go find the man but, right at this moment, he had someone to evict from the premises.

"I'm not sure how to tell you this, my good man, but I'm already bored of your company and your face has become annoying. So yeah… get out," Sirius deadpanned, face losing any kind of warmth or mirth. Stormy blue-grey eyes glared at the man within his home as his mouth dropped once more but it retracted much quicker and red eyes narrowed at him. He stood up in a flurry of motion and began to leave the meeting room only to pause at the door.

"You will regret your decision and once your Master is dead, you too shall join him, Death's Whore," He forebode, his voice a deadly whisper that curled around Sirius and actually sent a shiver down his spine although he didn't let it affect him on the outside. Then Voldemort left completely, leaving Sirius to his guards and thoughts. The room was silent, the flame haired man going through his thoughts and his latest conversation when he paused in contemplation of those last words.

"Wait, did the red eyed fucker call me Death's whore!?"

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TBC

Do y'all have any suggestions for couples? I'm stuck with the ones I have now.