"Sirius would you stop pacing, you're going to wear a hole in the floor." Sirius' only reaction to Remus' dry remark was a dramatically deep sigh as he continued to pace slowly across the floor in front of the fireplace.
"Love, it will be fine. You just sent the letter last night, he probably has to sit on his response a bit. After all, it's not like he announced his new creature status up front."
Despite knowing that there were many good reasons for Harry not to have responded yet, Sirius couldn't help but feel worried at the delayed response.
Did their prompt acknowledgment scare him away?
They sent him a positive and supportive letter, so he hopes the response is equally positive.
However, as someone who has been on the run for over five months, it would be understandable to be nervous reaching out.
Harry had taken the first step, but now they have to nourish the follow-through.
"But Remus!" Sirius whined with the air of someone who absolutely knew they were in the wrong.
"What if he doesn't want to meet with us, what if he thinks it's a trap?" Which honestly, would be fair…
"Then he likely would send a rejection through another letter rather than taking us up on our offer right away. It will be okay Sirius. Remember we said we would give him space if he needs it. Don't go back on your word."
Sirius pouted in response, but stopped pacing and sat down on the couch. Remus sent a wistful smile in his direction before looking back to the fire.
"He'll respond Sirius. He loves you, he's just understandably wary. He never saw the side of you that cursed Dumbledore behind the old man's back. Once he meets with us he can determine the truth to our words, but ink on parchment doesn't hold the same weight."
Seeing the vaguely resigned expression on Remus' face, Sirius caught his eyes. "He loves you too Remus. That letter wasn't only addressed to me." Thankfully that eased the small bit of tension out of his shoulders.
"You're right. Take my own advice, eh?" Giving Sirius a soft smile, Remus relaxed into the couch, combing his fingers through Sirius' black hair. If he were in his dog form, he undoubtedly would be rumbling in happiness.
- S.O.A.R. -
Another crumpled-up piece of parchment was thrown into the rubbish bin. This one actually making it in.
Harry smugly looked at it for a moment before looking down at another blank parchment, his grin turning into a frown of consternation.
Picking up his fountain pen in one hand and his glass of blood in the other, he started another draft.
I need to go hunting, as handy as house elf supplied blood is, I miss the chase.
Taking a deep drink from the glass, he frowned. It was delicious, but there wasn't a heartbeat, there wasn't the adrenaline, nor the same pleasure. It still was pleasurable don't get him wrong, but it was more a heady sense of lust without the physical satisfaction. It was almost a tease.
He felt like he should be more repulsed by those thoughts. Or rather, he knew he would have been before. So much has changed, he almost feels guilty for not feeling guilty.
Setting down his empty glass, he focused on the letter. He wanted his godfather(s) to come to the townhouse. He wanted to get the hard conversations out of the way. Give him the space to explain and let them ask questions. Hopefully they would find an equilibrium.
The letter that Sirius sent was comforting. It sounded like the man was no longer in Dumbledore's back pocket, and it allowed him to hope that there would be a future in which he could learn from the man. That he could grow into their little family.
A Lord of a dark house, a werewolf, and a vampire. Quite the little family. Maybe one day it would even grow, if he dare hope. Imagining having a partner with his condition, so to speak, was difficult, but he hoped it would become a reality one day.
Finding someone who would be okay with how he reacted to drinking blood would also be a challenge, he was sure. Someone who was as twisted as him but wouldn't kill him would be a hard combination to come by.
But having a relationship like that was probably a far off dream. Before even contemplating growing close to anyone else, he had to work on trusting those closest to him first.
There's no way he could let someone else in so soon. Those kind of bonds don't grow overnight, and he didn't have that kind of history with anyone.
Scowling down at the words of agreement he had written onto the page, he hoped that he had conveyed his message eloquently enough. Not that his dogfather would care for eloquence, but he felt like these letters were important enough to warrant it.
He was thankful for the fountain pen Hermione had gifted him. It was one that used a piston filler system, allowing him to use ink bottles still. Granted not the same ink he used for his quill as fountain pen ink had to be water based, but he liked the flexibility.
Trying to write letters with his quill was a hassle. Malfoy would probably have an aneurysm seeing him use a muggle writing device.
Maybe Sirius could be converted to using one over a quill.
And now he was distracting himself, he's being ridiculous.
Writing the last few words of his letter, he let it dry for a few minutes before folding it and sealing it. It wasn't a long note, as he hoped to share most of what he wanted to say in person. Just greetings, a desire to meet, and the address to announce in the floo.
He had written drafts that had said more, but it seemed unnecessary.
A note could only convey so much, and sometimes speaking in person can help conversations go so much smoother than they would otherwise.
Sighing, he called Millie and had her take the note to Sirius.
He was sure once they read the letter they would be coming through the floo within minutes.
At least he had just drank his fill so he wouldn't be as jittery and could focus easier.
No matter Sirius' thoughts on his condition, this was not going to be a fun conversation.
Maybe he should test and see how alcohol reacts to his system? If drinking from someone who was drunk is any indication, it probably wouldn't be advisable to a serious conversation, but it sure was tempting. Maybe he would have Millie make some blood-laced tea to get him through this conversation.
- S.O.A.R. -
Jumping when there was a soft pop in front of their couch. Having dosed off, Sirius almost hit Remus in the jaw when his arm jolted. Remus, having been reading while letting himself take the place of a pillow, rose an eyebrow at Sirius.
His face flushing a little, he grabbed the letter that the house elf had quickly dropped on the coffee table before popping away.
He still thought that elf looked familiar.
Breaking the seal, he held the note so Remus could read it as well. Grins spread on both of their faces and they learnt where Harry was living. The note was so formal it could almost be called curt, but he knew why his pup had addressed it that way. Harry had no idea what kind of reception he would have.
Really, that townhouse should have been one of the first places they looked, but Sirius supposed they had gotten used to Harry not knowing anything about his heritage.
That was going to change.
Now that Dumbledore didn't have a say in what Harry was allowed to know, Harry could learn whatever they had to share.
His godson had included the floo address, so thankfully it would be a quick transit. Not that it took long to walk to the townhouse's address anyway. That was something that James had been thankful for back in the day. Something they both had been thankful for.
Anyways.
Taking a few deep breaths, gathered his confidence, and he looked to Remus seeing the quiet strength that he loved.
They were going to do this right.
Tossing the floo powder into the fireplace, he stepped in and called out the address.
"Potter Townhouse, Frederick St, London!"
Landing in a familiar townhouse, he saw Harry standing at a distance from the floo.
Moving away quickly to make way for Remus, he stayed quiet, waiting for Harry to make the first move.
Even after Remus arrived, there was a moment of silence.
Harry was eying them cautiously, and seemed to come to a conclusion giving them a careful smile.
"Let's sit, Millie can bring some tea if you would like? I may have a cuppa myself." He seemed to be fidgeting slightly, though he was obviously trying to busy his hands.
As all of them moved to the armchairs facing away from the small terrace, "Yes please Harry, that would be lovely."
Prompting Millie to bring a teapot with three cups, she popped away and brought back the tea requested as well as a little vial next to Harry's cup.
Sirius and Remus watched as Harry poured their tea and his own. After inquiring about their preferences, sugar with milk for Sirius and just sugar for Remus, he handed them their cups. He then proceeded to pour the dark red contents of the vial into his teacup before stirring the mixture.
Harry picked up the cup and gave a little sigh before straightening, steeling himself. "So, I'm sure you have questions, but please hold them for a few minutes while I explain. This might take a while, and I want you both to have the full picture." He looked nervous for their reactions but sure of himself at the same time. Sirius was happy to see the conviction behind his eyes. It would help in the conversation later.
"Don't worry pup, we stand by you. We just want to make sure you're okay." He tried to convey his sincerity, and Harry seemed to look into his soul with eyes as bright as the killing curse. Whatever he was looking for seemed to pass inspection as he relaxed minutely.
"I wouldn't say okay, per se, but I'm getting better." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Taking a sip of his tea, which apparently had blood in it, he continued. "As you mentioned hearing from Dumbledore, my relatives' home was attacked earlier this last summer. What Dumbledore likely didn't tell you, was the true severity of the attack." Harry took a shuddering breath, putting his lips to the teacup, hovering over it, almost hiding behind it. Tone quieting. "You might need a calming draught for this."
Frederick St is a real place in London! Lovely buildings that fetch quite the price. It's not too far away from where Grimmauld Place was filmed, just a bit closer to King's Cross.
A quote for the road, from "'Everybody's Book of Epitaphs,' being for the most part what the living think of the dead", 1995. Ironically I noted this quote before I set the townhouse as being in Islington.
"From an old tomb at Islington—
Alis Fowler, 1540
Behold and see, thus as I am so sal ye bee
When ye be dead and layd in grave
As ye have done so sal ye have"
