A/N: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and her associates. Please support the official release (or not lol, fuck JKR)

WARNING: Adult themes (read: sex) are present in this chapter. Not a full-on sex scene, but it's rather graphic. Reader discretion is advised (though you've made it this far in the story, so I doubt that's going to bother you much lol).

Headmaster's Office

A tense silence hung over the Headmaster's office, as Nicolas and Albus sat on either side of the massive desk, lost in their respective thoughts.

For Albus, it had been a most enlightening reunion, though not in a particularly good way. The news that Nicolas and Perenelle had created a Second Stone in secret, despite telling him they had destroyed the only one, had cut deeper than he cared to admit. He knew he had no right to be upset with them for lying and keeping secrets, of course – Merlin knew he was more than guilty of that himself – and yet… there was a part of him that couldn't help but feel betrayed.

The fact that Voldemort had seemingly found out about it as well did nothing to soothe the keen sting he felt at the deception.

Right as he was about to break the silence and say something, however, a bright flash in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Green flames were bursting from his fireplace – meaning someone was on their way through the Floo network.

"Ah! There she is," Dumbledore said as a feminine figure stepped out of the now rapidly-dwindling fire. "Right on time, as well."

The woman before them resembled Nicolas in several ways – she too appeared to be in her early forties, with eyes that seemed to radiate a faint, celestial glow. At regular intervals, a strange light coursed through her veins, illuminating her blood vessels from the inside.

But there were differences. Where Nicolas's eyes were brilliant purple, hers were a deep shade of scarlet, combined with long, flowing locks of chocolate-colored hair and a faded birthmark on her right cheek. Her sun-kissed skin, combined with the blue summer dress she was wearing and the gold-rimmed Ray-Ban sunglasses on her forehead made her look like a tourist who had just come back from a lengthy vacation in the Bahamas.

"Afternoon, Albus," she said, nodding to the Headmaster before turning to face her husband, who promptly rose from his seat. "Nicolas."

"Perenelle," Nicolas responded, a wry smile on his lips. "How was the Caribbean?"

"Oh, you know… Same old, same old," she waved. "Maceo and Amani are doing well. Their son just turned eight last week. You should drop by sometime and say hello."

"Hm… I'll consider it, if I'm ever in the area," he shrugged. "Things have been… busy lately."

"So I hear," Perenelle said. "Albus brought me up to speed in his letter. Seems like Tom finally figured out our secret, huh."

"I am afraid so," Nicolas sighed. "I suppose we should be thankful it took him as long as it did."

"Three years is hardly a long time," Perenelle grimaced. "I had wished for ten… maybe even twenty."

"Secrets of such import are not easily kept from the Dark Lord," Albus interjected, a clear hint of disapproval present in his voice. "I should have very much liked to aid you in that endeavor, but alas…"

"Albus is upset that we didn't tell him about the Second Stone," Nicolas explained. "He thinks it was wrong of us to lie to him about it."

"Oh, please," Perenelle smirked. "He's just mad he wasn't the one sitting on all the secrets for a change. Isn't that right, Albus?"

"My pride does not play into this," Albus denied. Neither of his guests were particularly inclined to believe him.

"Hmm, I wonder," Perenelle continued. "How much have you told Harry Potter again? How many secrets have you revealed to him?"

"I have… told him enough," Albus coughed, the faintest tinge of red visible on his cheeks.

"Doubtful," Perenelle scoffed, merciless in her candor. "I bet you haven't even told him he's a Horcrux yet. You know – the one thing he really ought to know."

"Knowing won't do him any good," Albus said, shaking his head. "How is he supposed to live his life if every happy moment is dulled by the knowledge that he ultimately has to die?"

"Does he really, though?" Nicolas said, giving voice to a thought that had been festering in the back of his mind ever since Albus had told him that Harry Potter was a Horcrux. "Have to die, that is. I am sure there must be some other way to remove the Horcrux without killing the vessel."

"If such a method exists, I do not know of it," Albus sighed. "Make no mistake; I do not desire young Harry's death. It merely seems… inevitable, given what happened at Godric's Hollow that fateful night."

"Personally, I do not care what happens to the boy – so long as the Dark Lord is dealt with, and no trace of his existence is allowed to linger in this world," Perenelle said, a neutral expression adorning her features. "If that result can only come about through young Mr. Potter's death, then so be it."

"How terribly pragmatic of you, dear," Nicolas snorted. "After all, what's one boy's life in exchange for the death of Lord Voldemort?"

"Precisely," Perenelle nodded. "We are in agreement, then."

"And what if that boy had been Maceo and Amani's son? Would this… extremely utilitarian mindset of yours still apply?"

A childish pout fixed itself on Perenelle's face at his words.

"That's hardly fair. You know how much I care for Camilo."

"… I rest my case," Nicolas smirked.

"Wisenheimer," Perenelle jabbed.

"Ignoramus," Nicolas fired back.

Albus let out a sigh at the squabbling couple.

"Either way, our current predicament remains," he said, running a hand through the length of his beard. "Now that Tom knows about this Second Stone of yours, he's unlikely to stop searching for it until it is either found or destroyed."

"That is true," Perenelle nodded. "But he will soon learn that locating it will not be easy. We have gone to great lengths to ensure its safety."

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Yes. Nobody except me and Nicolas knows its true location, and it is not somewhere in Britain. If Tom wants the Second Stone, he shall have to force the information from our lips. Unless he wants to search the entire world for it, that is."

"Hmm…" Albus murmured, looking conflicted. "And I suppose there is little chance you would be willing to share the information with me?"

"Not 'little' chance - no chance," Nicolas confirmed. "The location of the Stone is our business, and ours alone. That does not include you, I'm afraid."

"I… I do not fully understand, though," Albus sighed. "You told me you had made enough Elixir to settle your affairs. I thought you were finally ready… to move on."

"Oh, come off it, Albus," Perenelle scoffed. "I'm only 661 years old. I should at least like to hit the big 1000, if for no other reason than pure bragging rights."

"… I share my wife's sentiment, although for different reasons," Nicolas nodded. "There is still work to be done before I am ready to depart this life. My research on Soul Magic, for instance, remains largely unfinished."

"I see," Albus said, a hint of resignation to his voice. "It would appear I was mistaken in my belief, then."

"Don't feel too bad about it," Perenelle shrugged. "We did technically deceive you by lying, so… No hard feelings though, right? We are all a little too old for that, I feel."

"No, no. Of course not," Albus sighed. "I have known you for the better part of 50 years at this point, Perenelle. I have long since learned how you operate."

"Good!" she smiled.

"That being said…" he continued. "There is something else I would like to discuss with the two of you, now that you are both here."

"Oh?" Nicolas asked. "And what would that be?"

"I want you to-"

He didn't get to say much more than that, however, as an incessant knock suddenly sounded on the door.

"Albus? Are you in there?" the voice of Minerva McGonagall came from the other side, sounding tense and concerned. "I really need to speak with you."

"Yes, Minerva, I am here. Come in," Albus said, waving his hand towards the door, which opened on its own, allowing her entrance into his office.

"Oh, thank Godric! You have to-…" She paused mid-sentence, as her eyes darted across the other two that was with him. "… M-Mister and Mistress Flamel?! What are you doing here?"

"Long time no see, Minerva," Perenelle smiled. "How have you been?"

"H-How have I…?" she blinked, before seemingly regaining her composure. "No. There is no time for this. Albus, I am sorry to intrude upon what is undoubtedly a very important meeting, but… Something has happened in Godric's Hollow."

"In Godric's Hollow, you say?" Albus said, eyes narrowing with alarm.

"Yes. It's Death-Eaters, Albus. They've… They've attacked St. Jerome's Church, in the middle of a sermon!"

"What?!" he cried. "But… Why?! That doesn't make any sense…"

"They are growing confident, I see," Nicolas scoffed. "Attacking a public space in broad daylight… So tactless."

"Should we help as well?" Perenelle asked, a predatory look flashing across her face for just an instant. "It's been a while since I've had a good duel."

"… As reassuring as that would be," Albus started, purposefully ignoring her moment of apparent bloodlust. "I think it best that you two remain here. We don't want Voldemort's supporters to know of your whereabouts, if at all avoidable."

"They already know where I am," Nicolas countered. "They broke into one of my apartments, remember?"

"Yes, but I highly doubt they know that you are here, at Hogwarts, having this conversation with me right now," Albus said. "And I don't want to give them any indication that we are working together yet."

"We hid the First Stone here three years ago," Nicolas scoffed. "They will assume we are allies regardless."

"They will assume, yes, but not know for certain. And I would like to keep it that way for now."

"… You've always enjoyed playing your mind-games, Albus," Perenelle sighed. "But so be it. If you truly do not desire our help, then we shall remain on the sidelines for now."

"That would be much appreciated, Perenelle," Albus nodded, before rising from his seat with a determined expression. "Alright then. I better make haste to Godric's Hollow. We shall continue this conversation when I return."

"Safe travels," Perenelle replied, a mirthless smile on her lips. "Kick some ass for us out there, will you?"

"I shall certainly try my best," Albus said, before a loud crack suddenly resounded throughout the room, and he was gone.

"He could give us permission to apparate in and out of Hogwarts too, you know," Nicolas sighed. "600 years of using the metaphorical visitor's entrance does start to wear on you after a while."

"Oh, stop complaining, and come here and kiss me already," Perenelle smirked. "It's been far too long."

"And with that, I think I shall take my leave," Minerva said, before heading towards the now open door. "Do try your best not to break anything, will you?"

"No promises," Perenelle winked as she left, closing the door behind her. With a sigh, Nicolas moved closer to snake his arms around his wife's waist.

"So…?" Perenelle started, after a moment of silence. "Are you going to make a girl wait forever, or…"

"No, I was just… thinking," Nicolas breathed. "Did… Did you check on the Stone before you came here?"

"No," Perenelle responded. "I did not want to wake Jörmungandr if at all avoidable. You know how he is."

"That I do," Nicolas frowned, a runaway shudder coursing through his body at the thought of the gargantuan creature. "I pity the poor fool who's unlucky enough to wake him without good reason."

"Precisely," Perenelle said, leaning into his chest as a worried expression flitted across her face. "And while I dislike the fact that Tom knows about the Stone, I do not think we need to fear for its safety. There is no greater protector than Jörmungandr, after all."

"If only we could get him actively involved in the fight…" Nicolas lamented.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," Perenelle scoffed. "He hasn't involved himself in human affairs since the 9th century. He's like, the Wizarding World equivalent of Switzerland."

"True, true…"

"Either way, that's enough talk."

Turning around, she stood up on her toes to plant a dainty kiss on his lips. Nicolas matched it with ease, his body falling back into old habits developed through centuries of time together.

"You really should come visit more often," she whispered as they broke apart. "I do so miss you sometimes."

"Who knows," Nicolas smiled, before leaning in for another kiss. "Maybe I will."

12 Grimmauld Place

Sirius groaned as he came down from the heights of his orgasm, his body trembling from the aftershocks. The world around him appeared hazy and indistinct, lacking depth and color. There was only room for her in his mind.

He could not say how long he had lasted – the Allure made such calculations hazy and inaccurate – but he was pretty sure he remembered it being brighter outside than it was now. Nighttime had descended upon London at some point during their union, bringing with it darkness that was held at bay by flickering candlelight and grimy windows.

Beneath him, silver hair lay splayed out across the mattress, sky-blue eyes glinting with contentment and satisfaction. A sultry breath leaked out from parted lips, ghosting across his skin, sending pleasant shivers down his spine. Her body burned hot at his touch - as if he was holding on to a radiator rather than a person.

"That was... a delightful distraction," Apolline sighed, nuzzling her face into his chest. "And a long overdue one, at that."

"You're telling me," Sirius grunted as he removed himself from her slit, allowing a small fraction of his release to leak out onto the bedsheets. "I can't even remember the last time I had sex… prior to just now, of course."

"Was it good for you?" Apolline asked, tilting her head up to look at him. The racy gleam present in her eyes nearly turned him hard again right then and there.

"Good?" he laughed. "It was better than good! It was bloody fantastic!"

"Ahh… That is reassuring to hear," Apolline smiled, before leaning forwards to place a tender kiss to his lips. It tasted of sweat and fornication.

"But… are you sure this was a good idea?" Sirius asked, feeling the onset of regret and guilt blooming in his chest like a vile rose. "I mean… Aren't you married?"

"That I am, but I am also a Veela. And Veelas are rather sexual creatures," Apolline explained. "Sébastien knew this when he married me. We are in a… well, an open relationship, I suppose."

"O-Oh…" Sirius exclaimed. "So… he has partners on the side, too?"

"Non." Apolline shook her head. "Or, well… he has had a couple in the past, but for the last 5 or 6 years, I have been his only mate."

"A-And, uhh… And how many have you had?"

"Oh my, what a forward question~" Apolline purred, a mischievous smile on her lips. "Don't you know that a proper lady does not kiss and tell?"

"Then it's a good thing that you're not a proper lady," Sirius retorted, earning himself a light jab in the shoulder.

"Connard," she smirked, before pushing herself up from the bed. The position gave Sirius a clear view of her immaculate body. Her alabaster skin, slender figure, sizeable breasts, and pink nipples – all combined, it made for a sight so breathtaking, Sirius could scarcely believe he was allowed to witness it. His eyes landed on the trim patch of platinum hair between her legs, and he could feel his blood rushing south again.

"Hm? What's this?" Apolline grinned as she caught him staring. "Are you getting aroused, looking at my body?"

"Guilty as charged," Sirius gulped. "You look… fucking amazing, Apolline."

"Ahh… Well, I suppose… there is still time…" she started, the lewd smile giving way to something much more primal. "Now, come here and show me some more of that British hospitality."

"Yes, madame," he responded, eagerly crawling across the bed to worship every inch of her body.

…

It had been well over a month since the meeting with Remus, and in the time since, things had truly taken a turn for the unexpected. After establishing a tenuous agreement regarding the burgeoning inter-species alliance between humans, Veelas and Werewolves, both Remus and Apolline had chosen to stay the night, in order to spend some time getting to know one another and reminisce about the past.

Although the idea had initially made him feel somewhat apprehensive, Sirius had quickly warmed up to it, and before long, the three of them had found themselves chatting amicably in the living room over a glass of old scotch.

Sirius still got a warm feeling in his chest whenever he cast his mind back to that evening. It had been the first time since Lily and James died where he had felt truly at peace – surrounded by friends and colleagues alike, engaged in stimulating conversation and good-natured banter.

The following morning, after a nice breakfast together in the dining room, Remus had taken his leave. It had been painful to see him go, but Sirius understood the need. The creation of an inter-species alliance was easier said than done, after all, and required lots of work and preparation to be completed. For this reason, he had fully expected Apolline to leave as well, but, in a truly mind-boggling twist, she had chosen to stay for a few more days, in order to "oversee his restitution-process as a victim of the cruelties of Azkaban."

Now, most men would have perhaps jumped at the opportunity to have a fully-grown Veela living with them. But for Sirius, her impromptu visit had quickly turned into a tremendous exercise in restraint and self-control.

Apolline… was… sexy. Ridiculously, aggravatingly sexy. Everything she did practically radiated sex appeal. She could make something as simple as cleaning off the dining table look hot. And Sirius, as an escaped convict fresh out of a 12 year stay in Wizarding Britain's shittiest prison, was not in the right state of mind to deal with those kinds of impulses.

On day 3, he had rubbed himself raw to the very thought of her presence, which was not something he had done since he was a young teenager at the height of puberty. Everything the woman did set him off – whether it was the innocuous shoulder-brushes she gave him as she walked past him in the hallways, the warm smiles at his jokes or the lingering eye contact. It would all lead to him rubbing one out in his bedroom. It had gotten positively exhausting.

And then, on day 5, after a pleasant evening of light conversation and drinks, he had finally worked up the courage to make a move on her. He had been fully prepared to get shut down – after all, Apolline was married, and he was probably just reading into things that weren't actually there – but, once again, she had surprised him.

The following love-making session had exceeded any and all expectations. Who knew fucking under the effects of the Allure would feel so damn good? It was such an addicting feeling that Sirius soon found himself a few sandwiches short of a picnic, as he vigorously pounded her into the mattress.

Which lead him to his current situation; watching her get dressed from his position on the bed.

"Are you leaving?" he asked, hoping against hope that she would say no. He'd grown quite accustomed to having her around.

"Yes, I am afraid so," she said as she put on her blouse, platinum hair brushing against the fabric. "I have a job and a family to get back to. But I must say – I have quite enjoyed this little vacation. Thank you for allowing me to stay here."

"Oh, uhh… yeah, no worries," he coughed, feeling a bit bashful all of a sudden. "You're welcome to return any time."

"That is much appreciated," she nodded. "Alas, it is an offer I am unlikely to accept in the foreseeable future. There are dark times ahead of us, Sirius, and dark times usually means more hours at the office."

"Yeah, I kind of figured," he shrugged. "Nothing to be done about that, I guess."

"Correct. Do not hesitate to contact me if something serious comes up, though."

"I won't. Take care of yourself, Apolline."

"You too, Sirius," she smiled, before gathering the last of her things and disappearing out the door.

The silence that followed was deafening. Sirius allowed himself to fall back into the pillows, conflicting emotions tearing at his heart.

In the short time Apolline had stayed with him, she had managed to make 12 Grimmauld Place feel more like a home than it ever had in the past. Her presence had been a constant, soothing melody that drowned out the phantoms of Azkaban still lingering in his mind. But now that she was gone, he could already feel the darkness seeping back in again.

Two minutes and I already miss her, he thought to himself, scowling at the implications. I truly am pathetic, aren't I?

Of course he'd developed a crush on her. Why wouldn't he, when she was the first woman to show him any kind of affection in 14 years?

But he knew it was not meant to be. She was married, and a mother of two. Her priorities would always lie with them, no matter what. He was, as she had explained to him, nothing but a side-partner. A delightful distraction.

It was a one-time thing. Just sex… nothing more.

So why did his chest feel like a gaping hole that was refusing to close?

With a groan, he got out of bed, and put on some pants. He needed to get out of this room. Everything in here had her scent on it.

I'll sleep in Regulus's old bedroom tonight, before moving out of Grimmauld Place again tomorrow, he decided, scanning the interior for anything he'd need. His eyes landed on the small, leather-bound notebook he kept next to his bed at all times. Oh, I'll definitely want to bring that.

Picking it up, he was about to turn around and leave when he spotted a change to the cover. There was a minuscule black circle on the front of the notebook that had not been there earlier.

Wait… a message from the Order?

Contrary to its appearance, this was no ordinary notebook. It was actually a communication device, invented by Dumbledore, that allowed them to communicate instantly with one another over long distances. It worked in a very simple way; whatever one Order member wrote in their notebook, would appear in everyone else's. And when you had unread messages, a small black circle would materialize on the front of the cover.

This notebook had been with him since the last war, and there had been no new messages in it since – but now, it would appear the Order was being summoned once again. Sirius wasn't sure how he felt about that – Dumbledore had purposefully avoided saying anything in his defense when the Ministry had come to drag him off to Azkaban, after all. As such, it probably would have been better if Sirius had left well enough alone, and refused to read the message.

Alas, he had always been a slave to his curiosity.

Before long, he was flipping open the yellowed pages with haste, his eyes landing on the singular sentence that now covered the fifth-to-last page of the book:

ATTACK ON GODRIC'S HOLLOW!

A/N: The next chapter will move the overall plot with Voldemort forward in a pretty significant way. I know a lot of you have been waiting for that, so I hope you'll look forward to it. I'll try to have it out sometime in the next two-ish weeks, but as usual, I make no promises.

Also, yes, you read that name correctly. Jörmungandr is a thing in my version of Harry Potter lol. No, it is most definitely not Canon. Google it if you don't recognize the name.

I have to admit that I feel a little bad for Sirius though. Falling for a Veela is a health-and-safety hazard at the best of times, and that's only made worse if it's a married one. Heartbreak might be lurking in the future for our favorite Marauder. Don't blame me, I'm just the vessel through which the characters write this story. I have long since lost control of this thing, and take no responsibility.

As always, if you enjoyed the read, please be sure to leave a review, and I'll see you guys in the next chapter.

-Twisted