Chapter46: Blurring Lines

                                    

                                          
Death's quiet chuckle was echoing from the walls. Not quite knowing what amused the being so, Harry turned his head to look at him.
"See," he just rasped. It was a mere feeling that had Harry looking back at the letter.
And then he saw.
Too eager to read the content, he had overlooked the address. Harry burst out laughing.
"What?" Sirius stared at them with a deep frown. "What's so funny?!" he repeated. His frustration seemed to grow minutely when neither of them explained. Eventually, the man simply leaned over the table and snatched the letter back.
Harry let him. "Oh, he thinks he is so smart," he breathed between chuckles, while he looked at Death. The bond in his chest was still bubbling with amusement.
The being grinned sharply.
Mirthfully, Harry then turned to observe his godfather who was turning the letter over in his hand, searching for a hidden message that wasn't there.
"I don't get it," he admitted, half-growling with a deep frown carved on his face.
Harry smirked. "He thinks I'm you."
Sirius blinked, realization setting in. Warily, he looked up. "Harry," he began slowly, "Whom did you write?"
A lazy grin stretched over Harry's face. "Voldemort," he drawled. He savoured Sirius' expression at that. His godfather was white as a wall.
"This-" Sirius looked at the letter in his hand and then dropped it as if he'd burned himself.
"Yup," Harry said, popping the p.
Sirius swallowed hard. A beat. "What have you offered him?"
"Ah, no," Harry voiced, oddly entertained. He summoned the letter that was still innocently laying in front of Sirius. "I think I'm gonna make it a surprise."
"Harry, whatever you're planning. This isn't a good idea," Sirius said seriously. His eyes flickered to Death before he fixated Harry again. "You might think you've got nothing to lose, but Harry-" he leaned forward, grey eyes holding an emotion Harry couldn't name - "there are worse fates out there than death. Trust me."
Harry felt touched by the fact that Sirius was worried about him, but he waved him off dismissively. Turning his head, he called out, "Kreacher." A shift in the air and with a crack the elf was standing in the room. He stared at Death with wide eyes, shrinking in on himself and whimpering. "Kreacher," Harry said sternly and the elf turned his head.
"Master Harry."
"Who gave you this letter?" he questioned, waving the offending piece of parchment in his hand. "How did you get it?"
Kreacher opened his mouth but he seemed to choke on his words, nothing but cut off words leaving his mouth. "Just tell him," Sirius said in a harsh tone. Whatever order the elf had been given was overruled.
"Kreacher was called to the Manor of the noble Malfoy's, yes he was," Kreacher told them. "Cissy gave him the letter-"
"Narcissa?" Sirius' eyebrows rose.
Kreacher nodded vigorously. His wrinkly ears flapped. "Yes, Narcissa Malfoy. She ordered Kreacher to deliver the letter to his Master and to talk to no one about it."
"That would explain it," Harry said and he leaned back in his chair. The back of it creaked. Whatever bond he had with Kreacher, it wasn't that of a master and his elf.
Sirius sighed heavily.
Harry looked at the letter in his hand once more. How to reply? Should he inform Voldemort about his misconception?