It was evening, and dinner was done in the Great Hall. I had known all along what I needed to do, and rather sooner than later. If I was going to be gone soon, I needed to find someone to look after Harry and Draco. It made me feel ill, the thought of leaving them, but some things don't come with a choice, and this situation was one of them. And even then, I hated to ask him, even though he was good to both boys. Harry and Draco admired him greatly, and he'd settled down a lot as of late, especially with being declared innocent. I was just thanking my lucky stars Black hadn't found a different place to live yet, as I doubted he would ever tell me just where that was. So, I found myself standing in the entranceway of Grimmauld Place, and in a grim manner indeed.

"Woah," Black said, shocked by just how pale and tired I looked. "Who died?"

He chortled, but upon seeing the look on my face he stifled his laughter quickly, looking quite guilty instead at making a joke. "The boys are okay, right?"

"Yes, yes, they're alright," I replied.

"Good," he replied, looking relieved. "Are you looking for Molly? I can go get her if you would like. She dropped by to look for some doxy spray to borrow."

"No, actually," I said. "I have something to ask you."

Black looked surprised, extremely surprised.

"Well, what is it?"

I hesitated, not sure how to say what I wanted to. Black interrupted my thought, giving me more time.

"Do you want a drink?" he said abruptly, being oddly courteous. "You look worse than Remus." Ah, and there's the insult. That's Black for you.

"Yes, I would," I said, thinking a little Firewhisky might make this easier. I followed him into the kitchen and I sat down at the table. There were a few small labelled moving boxes stacked in the corner of the kitchen.

Black poured me a glass of Firewhisky and sat down across from me, his own glass in hand.

"Well, go on," Black said.

I took a sip of my drink; it numbed my insides further. Now or never Sev, now or never. "If anything were to happen to me, would you look after Harry and Draco?"

"Absolutely," he said immediately, surprised. He narrowed his eyes. "You aren't planning on doing something stupid, are you?"

"No," I retorted, though my voice sounded dull to me, listless even."You're starting to sound like Molly."

Black just rolled his eyes and took a sip of his Firewhisky.

"I don't see why you're so worried then," Black said. "They only have part of the summer left before they can be on their own, Draco sooner than Harry of course."

"I know, but just say, something did happen," I replied, staring at the amber liquid in the glass. "Would you be one hundred percent willing to take them in?"

"Yeah, I would." Black looked confused. "How great is the chance I'll need to?"

I looked up, and immediately I knew he had determined I was leaving something out, that this was not merely my paranoia getting to me.

"For sure. You would for sure be taking them in," I replied, not even trying now to steer away from the truth. I didn't care if Black knew. He wasn't going to get all teary, hell, maybe he would laugh if he knew what I was dying from. It is easier to tell something tragic to those who don't care about you.

"Why?" Black looked at me accusingly. "You're not going to off yourself, are you?"

"No," I said flatly.

He stared at me in scrutiny for a few moments before asking, "When would they be coming into my care?"

I took a gulp of firewhisky. "Maybe June, early July. Either way, when school is done you will probably be the one coming to get them."

"Why?" he looked suddenly worried.

I drained my glass and then said," I'm dying."

Black spluttered on his own firewhisky. "Of what?"

"Lethifold Syndrome, apparently," I said, a little surprised by his flabbergasted reaction. "I hadn't heard of it up until a while ago; it's rare."

Black paused, and then, sounding hopeful, said, "This isn't some sort of prank, is it?"

But even he knew I had never been one to joke much. I shook my head, and then he poured a bit more whisky into our glasses. For a long time neither of us spoke, until Black hesitantly voiced a question.

"How long?"

"Seven months, at best."

"Seven," he croaked.

I did not answer, but instead focused on the feel of the cool glass in my hand, willing the poison within to take over. Just for a moment. Just long enough to forget.

"I used to say that I wished you were dead," Black said quietly.

"I know," I said, feeling a little too numb to even sound bitter.

"I used to think that I would be happier if you were gone, you know, back when we thought you really were a Death Eater," said Black. "Not anymore. I guess when you get older you start to see just how much death effects everyone, no matter who."

"I used to wish I was dead too," I said, the thought tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop it. Ordinarily we would not have been having such a conversation, but right then both of our tongues were a little loose from the whisky.

"What made you stop wishing it?"

"Part of it was because the Dark Lord came back and I had a purpose, as a spy for the Order again," I said, caring far less than I should that I was sharing this with Black. "But what really made me stop was when Draco and Harry came to live with me. I hadn't realized how little I cared about anything before then."

"I always wished I would die in my sleep, in Azkaban," Black muttered. "I hate that feeling; that you just want to close your eyes and never see again."

"It's strange, how for so long I wished for some reason, some thing, to take me out of the world," I began, "and now that that thing has come, I don't want to go."

"That's life for you," said Black a little bitterly. "I've been looking forward to spending more time with Draco and Harry, now that I'm free. But not like this ... Have you told them?"

I sighed slightly, "No."

"I thought so. You've got to tell them."

"I know." I knew all too well.

"Better do it soon," Black suggested. "It will only get harder."

I ran my hand through my hair and nodded.

We were so lost in heavy thought that we didn't hear Molly coming at first, or see her as she entered the room, the elusive bottle of doxy spray in her hand.

"Severus, what brings you here?" Molly inquired as she took in the empty glasses before us and the bottle of whisky.

The two of us jumped badly, and both Black and I pulled out our wands in an instant and stood in various poses ready to duel.

"It's alright, it's just me," Molly said, holding up her doxy spray. We both sat back down, identical looks of irritation on our faces. I supposed Black would be just as paranoid as I, seeing as he had been on the run for so long.

"Since when have you two gotten together for drinks?" Molly asked, though not rudely. In fact, she sounded pleased.

"I had a favour to ask Black," I said a little sharply. "I shall be going now."

Black nodded his head toward me, and our unspoken agreement hung in the air between us. I walked toward the kitchen door but Molly stood in my way. I was worried she was going to interrogate me.

"Arthur was wondering if you and the boys would like to come for Christmas dinner at the Burrow," Molly said. "You're invited too Sirius, if you wish to come."

"That would be nice," I said, a little taken off guard, but relieved it wasn't any sort of accusation. I covered this up well. "Thank you for the invitation; I'm sure the boys will be pleased. Can I bring anything?"

"I can't think of anything right now," said Molly, "but if I do I'll send you a letter. We'll see you there. Sirius?"

"Remus has already invited me to his place," he said apologetically. "But thank you anyway Molly."

"Alright, but if the two of you want to drop by you are most certainly welcome to come. And thank you for the Doxy spray. The infestation is getting quite bad in the garage." With a smile she went over to the fireplace and disappeared in emerald flames.

Both Black and I looked at each other, sharing the feeling of relief, and then I was off.

I arrived at the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, entered the gates, and walked the road from Hogsmeade up to the castle. I removed the disillusionment charm and trudged through the snow, the castle looming in the distance and trees lining the snowy path. Though the air was cold I was still warm from the whisky. I didn't let myself think of anything but each step before me, and so I distracted myself by looking around.

     There is something so beautiful about a frozen landscape. The cold isn't always so bad, and today there was something special about the icicles hanging thickly on the trees. Maybe it was because I knew that this would be my last winter here - however much it hurt to think of - but somehow I noticed more than I usually would. Little birds frolicked in among the branches of the trees, and the footprints of mice adorned the snow around the trunks. I smiled a little as I enjoyed the life around me, and I found myself standing still. The silence pressed in on my ears, but then the quiet was broken when I started to notice the tiny noises amongst the trees. Birds twittered, and the gentle tinkle of icicles rubbing together rang through the air while the breeze made the trees creak ever so slightly. I could feel my heart beating strongly in my chest: the steady rhythm of the symphony of life that I was, the miracle, really. I wasn't sure how long I stood there, but after a little while I turned to the left slightly, sure I had seen something in the wood. My breath was taken away when I saw a doe standing amongst the trees. She stood out starkly against the white of the snow and evergreens. Her dark eyes looked at me so innocently, ears perked up. There was a light dusting of snow on her back from rubbing up against the tree branches. She pawed the snow a little bit. I stared in wonder, and she too stood watching me, looking to be equally interested. We stood for a few seconds; seconds that felt like forever, and then she turned and galloped away, taking one last glance at me before disappearing down a slope, the trees rustling lightly behind her. Silence soon returned, and peacefully I returned to the castle, thinking of nothing but icicles and evergreens, and the doe in the stillness of it all.