Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Hold on Tight	By : cls2256 Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 7315 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. This fic is for entertainment purposes only!

Chapter List
- 1-one
- 2-two
- 3-three
- 4-four
- 5-five
- 6-six
- 7-seven
- 8-eight
- 9-nine
- 10-ten
- 11-eleven
- 12-twelve
- 13-thirteen
- 14-fourteen
- 15-fifteen
- 16-sixteen
- 17-seventeen
- 18-eighteen
- 19-nineteen
- 20-twenty
- 21-twenty one
- 22-twenty two
- 23-twenty three
- 24-twenty four
- 25-twenty five
- 26-twenty six
- 27-twenty seven
- 28-twenty eight
- 29-Twenty nine
- 28
- 29
Author's notes:
Oh hey. Long time no see!
I literally don’t know how its been 5 months since I posted the last chapter. I swear it only feels like a month. Life has been BUSY.
I was going to page break and make this chapter longer so it was more consistent word count wise, but rather than making you all wait any longer, I decided to get you what was ready to go!

This was insane. Why did he agree to this? Why was he even entertaining this?
He tugged at his collar as he looked around; where was she? She was the one that said 7:30 sharp.
She was making him sweat, he figured, and it was working.
Lenore had been easy to get ahold of, with all Sirius needing to do was fall asleep. The smirk on her face made him angry. She'd been waiting for him, waiting to gloat about how she was able to get to Allie right under his nose once again.
"Are you ready to give me my journal back? Or do I need to show you once more just how serious I am?"
Had Sirius been able to get out of his binds, he would've choked her to death. He wondered if he'd choke her to death now, the moment she walked in through the door. It must've been why she chose somewhere so public, he reckoned.
Mad-Eye didn't want him to return the journal. "There could be something in there that could be helpful to us." he'd said.
He knew they'd never be able to crack the entire journal if they did keep it. Hell, Snape could hardly come up with an antidote to Sirius's hex due to the complexity of her shorthand. Sirius could tell Snape was tired and fed up with it when he hand-delivered him a small satchel of potions. He thrust the journal and potions at Sirius as if they were hot in his hands.
"If this kills you, I am not responsible." He'd said with disdain.
Allie was safe for now, Sirius hoped. Aurors were stationed outside her room, as well as St. Mungo's had tightened down security. Still, Sirius was eager to get Lenore alone and kill her off. As long as she was alive, he couldn't even breathe without worrying about what she would do next. He didn't trust the Ministry or their ability to keep Allie safe. They'd failed him before, condemning him to life in prison without a fair trial— after that, he didn't have much faith in the system.
Funny, how he went to prison for thirteen deaths he didn't cause, sticking to his guns that he was not a murderer, yet here he was, planning to murder someone in cold blood. Did it make a difference that he felt Lenore deserved to die?
Remus had suggested a sting operation, one where they set Lenore up to be arrested, but Sirius refused.
"No Aurors," he'd insisted. "Except you, Tonks. You don't count."
He didn't want any Aurors nearby to whisk him off to Azkaban for killing Lenore here and now.
Sirius sat alone at a tiny, white-clothed table in the middle of the loveliest French restaurant he'd ever been inside, feeling a bit dumb and out of place. Looking around at the ornate wall sconces and thick velvet window drapes, he reckoned this place was undoubtedly the kind of restaurant she would dine at.
"Come alone," She'd directed firmly. "7:30 sharp- do not keep me waiting."
He figured she had to be three sheets to the wind insane if she thought he was *really* going to come here alone.
Remus and Tonks sat a few tables away, dressed to the nines to accommodate the restaurant's dress code. They were posed as an average couple having a romantic dinner, while Moody and Arthur off to the left, slightly further away, were posed as having a business meeting. Fleur and Bill played another happy couple, positioned on the other side of the restaurant for a different vantage. If Lenore tried anything, she would be outnumbered 7 to 1.
The vial in his pocket almost felt hot, making him too aware of its presence. He had no idea what was in it; he didn't ask. All Snape had told him was this second potion he brewed was a silent but deadly killer. It was a slow-acting potion, no symptoms at first, then suddenly, days after ingestion, death. He would've preferred something that inflicted some torture, at least some pain to give her a taste of what she deserved, but he'd take what he could get.
He very quickly plucked the potion vial from his pocket, popped the cork, and dumped the contents into the water glass across from him.
"One sip is all it takes," Snape had said, his words echoing in mind.
All Sirius needed was Lenore to take a sip, and he'd never have to worry about her again.
As more minutes passed, Sirius grew from anxious to annoyed. He took a large gulp of his water and glanced at his watch; 7:43. He exhaled loudly and leaned back in his chair, looking around at the tables his friends were positioned at. A waiter walking by with a tray of champagne flutes made his mouth water— if there was any night he could use a drink to calm his nerves, tonight was it.
A shimmer in his peripheral vision caught his eye. He spotted Lenore, being led to his table by the Maitre D. She was in a form-fitting black sequined gown with a slit that ran all the way up to her hip. She moved like she was floating, walking gracefully and expertly in her tall stilettos, eyes gleaming with superiority.
“Votre chaise, Madame Khoury.” the Maitre D said, pulling out her chair for her.
"Merci," She purred. "Some fresh strawberries and champagne, if you wouldn't mind."
"Not at all," the Maitre D bowed. "Juste un moment."
Once the Maitre D was out of earshot, Sirius scowled. "You're late." He said flatly. "You said 7:30 sharp."
"And I wanted you here at 7:30 sharp," she said smoothly, picking up a menu. "I'm sure you've had time to study the menu, yes?"
Sirius narrowed his eyes. "I'm not here to have dinner with you, I'm here for the exchange, and that's it."
"Now, Sirius, don't be so rude," Lenore said with a smirk. She gave him a wink and then started flipping through the menu. "The oysters here are divine, as well as the bouillabaisse. Any seafood is a wise choice as well."
Sirius was about to open his mouth and tell Lenore to sod off. Still, a waiter stopped bringing the champagne and strawberries she'd requested.
"Merci," she purred. "I believe the man at the table prefers something a little more robust than champagne, though, I'm afraid. Would you bring him your finest 12-year single malt?"
"Of course, madame," The waiter said politely. "Sir." nodding to Sirius.
Sirius opened his mouth to stop him, but he was already zipping away to the bar. Sirius looked at Lenore contemptuously.
"I quit drinking," he said plainly.
"Oh, that's no fun," She chuckled, seeming utterly uninterested in his sobriety as she took a sip of champagne. Her perfectly lipsticked pout wrapped around the end of a strawberry delicately. Sirius's stomach flip-flopped as she took a bite, looking him in the eye as she did so.
"Why are we here?" Sirius demanded. "A French restaurant, of all places."
Lenore leaned back in her chair lazily. "I was in the mood for some proper cuisine, although the food here in London just isn't quite as good as Paris."
"Don't play coy," Sirius gritted his teeth. "Why are we doing this exchange here?"
The waiter returned with Sirius's whisky. From there, Lenore took the liberty of ordering a seafood assortment for the two of them, completely ignoring Sirius's irritated facial expressions.
"...oh, and most certainly two Caffe lattes and vanilla macarons for dessert."
Sirius gritted his teeth until the waiter disappeared.
"Macarons, really?"
Lenore took another bite of her strawberry and shrugged. "Too soon?"
Sirius's blood was now boiling. "I'm not entertaining whatever sick fantasy you're trying to play out right now,"
Sirius placed his palms on the table and attempted to stand up- WHACK! Searing pain made him fall back into his chair. Lenore had whipped her fork around faster than he could blink and stabbed him in the back of his hand. The fork stuck in his flesh about half a centimeter, and tiny beads of blood were forming around the prongs.
"No need to be rude, Sirius," Lenore said sharply, her eyes piercing him like daggers. "Sit down and enjoy your drink."
He could tell by her tone that this wasn't a request. Sirius gave her a contemptuous glare as he yanked the fork out of his hand, hissing in pain. He gritted his teeth as he wrapped his cloth napkin around his hand to control the bleeding.
He glanced around as he held his wounded hand to him; the only tables he noticed that seemed to know what was going on between them that he could see were Bill and Fleur. Their hands were on their wands under the table, ready to pounce at a moment's notice. He noticed a few faces he recognized off to the right— Avery, Selwyn, and Rabastin Lestrange.
"You brought back up," Sirius said, locking eyes with Rabastin, who cocked his head dangerously.
"As did you," Lenore said smoothly. "Mad-Eye Moody doesn't exactly blend in, even with that stupid hat pulled over his eye."
"I told you to come alone," She said, a hint of annoyance laced in her tone.
"And you'd be thick to think I'd follow that request," Sirius said through gritted teeth.
"As thick as you think I am?" Her smile twisted up sinisterly. She tapped her water glass with her long fingernail, and Sirius's heart nearly dropped out of his feet. "I expected more creativity out of you."
They locked into stares, challenging one another with slight raises to their brow. One of the Death Eaters must have seen him dump the vial into her water glass and tipped her off.
"I should disapparate right now," Sirius griped. "Burn your stupid journal in the fireplace."
"If you want Allie to live, I'd think twice about it."
"Allie is safe. You can't get to her again even if you tried."
Lenore let out a haughty laugh. "Because she has a couple of Aurors stationed outside her hospital room? Sirius, my dear, haven't you learned not to underestimate me? How do you know I don't have someone with her now, someone who slipped past your little security detail, waiting on my cue to terminate? Or that someone in that security detail doesn't owe me a favor?"
Ah, yes. All the more reason not to trust the Ministry.
"Why do you hate her so much," he said. "What did she do to you?"
"She did nothing," Lenore took a small sip of her champagne, waving her hand briskly as if to brush Allie off. "It's you, I hate," She grimaced at him. "Purest of blood wasted. Such a shame," She shrugged her shoulders as she sipped her champagne once more, "You make a fun plaything, though." she added, the corners of her mouth turning up.
Sirius scoffed in disgust and glanced down at his glass. Lenore gestured to it. "Have a drink," she said smoothly.
God- he did want a drink; he couldn't believe how enticing the amber liquid was.
"It would be rude not to drink it," She purred. "Especially after I took care to order what you like."
"I quit drinking." He said flatly, not taking his eyes off the glass.
"You can say that, but you and I both know you're not leaving this table with a full glass of scotch left behind."
For a moment, his mind wandered to imagine the burn on his throat he craved so much, the warmth of the liquid going down his throat, the release of tension from his shoulders the more scotch he drank…
His attention snapped back suddenly. "You put something in this? You have someone positioned at the bar, ready to dose me with something."
"What, like the poison you not so casually slipped into my water glass?" Lenore snorted mockingly.
Sirius locked eyes with her. "Exactly like that."
Lenore smirked and reached over, plucking the whisky glass off the table. Her foot delicately brushed against his shin, lingering just long enough to let Sirius know she did this on purpose. She took a sip, leaving behind maroon lipstick prints on his glass before returning it to him.
"Have a drink," She said. "You need to relax."
"How do I know you're not just going to take an antidote for something slow acting?"
Lenore let out a chuckle that made Sirius's irritation seethe. "An antidote is only effective with these types of poisons if taken in the first ten minutes. An antidote taken when not needed causes sudden onset vomiting,"
Lenore spoke as if this was something Sirius should've already been familiar with.
"-in case you were wondering if I had something in my drink to counteract anything in yours."
Sirius looked at her curiously as she took a sip of her own glass.
"So, therefore, I haven't poisoned you," she gestured to his glass. "Have a drink."
His eyes fell to the amber liquid in the rocks glass in front of him. He wanted to so badly but knew he shouldn't touch it. He felt this magnetic pull to the glass that was becoming harder and harder to resist.
"Drink it," she ordered.
He obeyed as if he were under the imperius curse; however, he acted solely of his own accord. Shame washed over him in a split second but quickly washed away the moment the scotch entered his mouth.
The burn was satisfying. So crisp on his tongue and throat— god, he missed this feeling. He slammed the now empty glass down on the table, and Lenore looked pleased.
"That's better, I'm sure," she said. "It would be unwise to try to consume any potion you or someone else has tried to make from my journal." She reached into her matching clutch and pulled out a vial of potion, one that looked different than the antidote Snape brewed.
"And why is that?" Sirius grumbled.
Interrupting the conversation, platters of oysters, escargot, mussels, and prawns appeared, along with two boats of ratatouille and a fresh glass of whisky. Lenore took an oyster and slurped it down, then gestured to the platter.
"Have an oyster," she suggested. "They really are divine."
Sirius huffed, then impatiently grabbed an oyster and sucked it down like a shot of bottom-shelf tequila. "Happy?" he gruffed, tossing the oyster shell into the discard bowl haphazardly.
Indeed, her smirk would indicate she was pleased. "It would be unwise because despite that being my journal, it's missing information," she said. "A potion that you think will release you may actually stop your heart due to lacking a specific ingredient- a specific ingredient I never wrote down."
Sirius's brow rose curiously. "You could be lying."
"I could be," She shrugged. "It's up to you what risk you want to take, but choose wisely. Now," Lenore's eyes scanned the restaurant quickly. Who's holding onto my journal for me? Mad-Eye Moody, over there? Or is it the werewolf Lupin behind you?"
Sirius hardly realized that he downed his second glass of whisky in one gulp. "I've got it right here." He pulled his suit jacket out to show the journal neatly tucked in his pocket. "I'm not the one trying to play games here,"
"Says the man who slipped enough poison to knock out a herd of elephants in my water." Lenore took another oyster and slurped it down delicately, her expression a mixture of playful but dangerous.
"I want the potion that will break whatever hex you put on me," Sirius growled. "and I want you to leave Allie alone. You get your journal back, and you don't come near her, or me, again."
"Or," Lenore smirked. "You give me my journal, and you just thank me for not killing your little girlfriend thus far."
"Thank you for not killing her thus far?" Sirius's blood began to boil. "You killed our child, and you want me to thank you?"
"Just make another," she shrugged, but an evil grin crept across her face. "Or have you discovered that may be difficult to do yet?"
"You—"
Sirius went to lunge forward but froze as he felt her wand tip poke into his abdomen. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rabastin Lestrange, Avery, and Selwyn all draw their wands under the table.
"We are in a muggle establishment, Sirius," Lenore purred in a warning tone, "Be very careful how you react. Wouldn't want to end up back in Azkaban for breaking the Statute of Secrecy, now would you?"
He never thought it would be possible to hate someone so much, but he was confident he'd never hate anyone like he hated Lenore. Even his old friend Peter Pettigrew- that was saying something because he really hated that filthy rat.
The waiter came by with a fresh glass of whisky, not even paying attention to the tension at the table.
"Now, I'd like to finish my meal," Lenore said as she deshelled a prawn. "Try some of the ratatouille—pairs delightfully with these boiled prawns.
In his anger, he hardly could recall drinking the next glass of whisky, or whether or not he enjoyed the taste of the ratatouille and prawns, or if he even had a macaron for dessert. He kept his focus on not driving his wand through her eye at any given moment. He felt trapped, trapped at the table, trapped by all the suffering this woman had caused.
He heard her mutter to the waiter something about putting the bill on her tab, and that snapped him to attention.
"Are we done with whatever this is?" Sirius griped.
Lenore set the potion on the table, albeit closer to her. Sirius put the journal in front of him.
"You'll leave us be," Sirius said firmly. "You won't touch her if you have this back."
"You have my word," Lenore smirked. "I will not touch Allie."
"You'll leave my family alone?" Sirius asked, his brow raising.
He was unsure as to why Lenore seemed so pleased with herself at this moment.
"I'll leave your family alone."
A pause. "And can I trust your word?"
"Only one way to find out."
Sirius exhaled heavily, then slid the journal to her before reaching over and plucking the vial of potion from the table. Sirius just now noticed that Rabastin Lestrange, Avery, and Selwyn were gone from their table.
"Now, I best be off," Lenore purred, tossing her napkin onto the table and standing up. "You have a busy night ahead of you, so I won't keep you."
"My night isn't busy…."
All of a sudden, sounds of coughing and choking echoed from around him. He looked around wildly; both Bill and Fleur were turning purple at their table. Remus and Tonks were coughing profusely into their cloth napkins. Arthur was having a seizure while Moody attempted to treat him. Mad-Eye Moody never ate or drank anything he didn't prepare himself, and tonight that served him well.
"What did you—"
Lenore was already gone, however, leaving behind 5 of his coughing, dying friends in her wake. He grasped his hair and looked around wildly. This was his fault- he asked them here. He should've never underestimated their safety when it came to Lenore. What on earth had he done?
- 28
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Hold on Tight