Persona

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. J.K. Rowling does and she has the right to do whatever she pleases with them. However, what I do own in the story is the plot. So, please do not sue me...

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Chapter 4: A Murderous Message

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Three months later…

“I don't care if he is busy. I intend to speak to him.”

From where he was comfortably seated, Harry looked up. He could hear his godfather's stern voice beyond the door of the mansion's massive study room. The young duke took an exasperated breath as he started to arrange the papers he had been working on, for in but a few moments, he was certain, his godfather would be striding in despite the protests of his butler.

He had yet to shove his files inside the drawers when the doors opened and in came Sirius, who seemed to have taken it upon himself to make a living out of bothering the hell out of him.

And it was working.

Harry couldn't be more annoyed.

He stood up. “To what do I expect the…”

“I DID NOT BRING YOU TO YOUR FATHER'S ESTATE AND LET YOU HANDLE HIS PROPERTIES SO THAT YOU CAN SQUANDER YOUR MONEY JUST TO SATISFY YOUR DAMN LUST WITH SOME CHEAP THRILLS!” The man exploded, cutting off the snide remark that Harry had been prepared to throw at him.

Sirius knew that he had surprised his godson with his outburst, but the only expression that betrayed Harry's emotion was the sudden rigidness of his jaw. Sirius knew it would take more than what he had said to really get to Harry. So, he plundered on.

“YOU ARE NO MORE THAN THE LOUTS WHO CLAIM THEY ARE NOBLES BUT ARE IN FACT SCOUNDRELS, WHO FIND IT AMUSING TO PLAY WITH WOMEN'S HEARTS. YOU ENGAGE YOURSELF IN AFFAIRS AND LET LADIES HANG ON TO YOUR EVERY WORD BUT AFTER YOU ARE DONE, YOU THROW THEM ASIDE!”

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets and walked over to his liquor cabinet with this nonchalant look on his face as if his godfather didn't just deliver a blow to his ego. While he was busy putting drinks into two wide-rimmed glasses, Sirius walked over to the settee and sat down, silently berating himself for the sudden outburst.

He came here to talk to his godson about the impending celebration of his daughter's birthday, but forgot his intention the moment he heard about the escapades Harry had been engaging himself in lately.

According to Bentley, a colleague from the Gentlemen's Club, Harry had been taking mistresses here and there; lavishing them with gifts, taking them to operas or balls, but were not seen with him in public more than once. It was actually causing quite a scandal despite its commonness amongst the ton. Perhaps it was because nobody expected him to be that way since the former duke, Harry's father, had not been this promiscuous.

Sirius would have dismissed this thought had his godson been doing it ever since he became a duke. But what bothered him was the fact that it just started three months ago. He was not that type of person and Sirius wanted to know what happened and who caused this sudden change in him.

He stole a glance at Harry who was now walking over to him with two glasses of scotch in each hand. Sirius took one when he offered it to him and watched as Harry sat down on the opposite settee.

“Why?” Sirius asked the moment he had settled comfortably.

“Why what?” Harry shot back, feigning light puzzlement.

“You know what I am talking about.” Sirius snapped impatiently.

“Do you know that this is like the pot calling the kettle black?” Harry tried to keep his amusement from showing in his voice.

If Harry had expected him to deny it, he didn't show any emotion when Sirius didn't. “I had them when I was your age but I didn't toss them aside after…” Sirius trailed off, assured that he did not have to finish for Harry to understand.

“I get tired easily.” He said simply, as if unaware, if not, then indifferent, to the callousness of his words.

“Why are you doing it?”

“I enjoy their company. But I don't like to linger. You, of all people, should know what they expect if you stay with them too long.” He took a sip from his glass, studying Sirius' reaction through the rim.

“Don't you dare provoke me, Harry James Potter.”

“Don't you think it's a little beneath me to provoke somebody who is almost twice my age and is a very vital person in my God-forsaken life?”

“And now you're being condescending.”

He shook his head thoughtfully. “I am entitled to my own business, Sirius.”

“And so you are.” He nodded, but smirked. “But that will not stop me from telling you that what you are doing is beneath everyone else! I have not heard of a nobleman, a duke, to be exact, who already has a record of having more than eight mistresses in just three months!”

“Eight?” Harry scoffed. “Wherever did you get that number?”

“You mean it is not true?” Sirius visibly relaxed.

But his peace was disturbed almost immediately by his godson's amused drawl.

“Are gossips that erroneous these days? If my memory is true, you should have been informed that it was more than 10 by now.”

Sirius knew he would die of heart attack if he let this conversation progress further, not because he believed what Harry was saying but because he knew that the fool was trying to irritate him. He decided to change the topic.

“Are you going?”

Neither relieved nor surprised with the sudden alteration of issue, Harry looked over his shoulder to the invitation on his table and then shrugged.

“It's my daughter's birthday, and you do not know whether you're coming or not?” Sirius asked, incredulous.

“I have some important matters to attend to.”

“And Elizabeth is not important, is that it?”

“Of course, she is...but this is more important.”

Sirius was enraged. He slammed the glass on the table to give full meaning to his next words. It was a wonder that it didn't break. “I don't give a damn about your business! You are going whether you like it or not. I don't care if I have to tie you inside your carriage and take you there myself. You will attend.”

Harry placed his foot atop his knee. “May I inquire the reason for your sudden need to rupture every time you come upon something that does not favor you?”

“You!” Sirius shot back. “You are close to becoming the carpet on this floor, Harry James Potter.”

“Will it help if I told you that I have decided to go?”

“Not as much as I want it to.” Sirius said.

“What else must I do to get you off my back?” Harry realized the graveness of his question almost after he said it, but it was too late to divert Sirius.

“I command you to stop doing whatever you are doing. You are close to becoming a rake!”

“You command me?” Harry asked, more amused than angry.

“I am your godfather and, duke or no duke, I am entitled to tell you what to do!”

“I don't believe everybody has to follow commands.” Harry said. “And you can only advise me, not tell me. I am not a child.”

“You may not be a child. But what you are doing does not show maturity in any level. You don't believe you have to follow commands? Well, better start believing now, son, because I will make you.” Sirius threatened. “And since we are talking about my authority over yours, when are you planning to settle down---after you've finished playing your games?”

“Are we going there again?”

“We are, and we will continue to do it until you haul yourself out of here and find a wife.” Sirius tried to speak calmly. “You are not getting any younger and I am getting impatient.”

“I don't think it matters if I am getting old and I do not care if you are getting impatient. I don't have to deal with that.”

“You have the responsibility…”

“Of begetting heirs…I have heard that before and I am not hearing it today. I will if you want me to, but do not meddle, Sirius. If you make even a simple interference, I will not, I repeat, I will not get married.”

“If you would just allow me to introduce you to somebody at the ball…”

“Save it, Sirius. I will not have you as a matchmaker. I'll attend, but it wouldn't be for meeting people.” Harry stood up, clearly dismissing the topic. Sirius relentlessly gave up and let Harry discuss with him his recent merger with a trading company from America.

An hour later, Harry was escorting him to the main entrance of Godric's Hollow. As he Sirius stepped out of the mansion and into the carriage waiting for him, Harry took it upon himself to remind him of his opposition to his godfather's impatience.

“If you are thinking of inviting somebody for me to meet and consider, I am warning you now, if you ignore this, what I will do in return will not be a pleasant sight.” With that, he closed the carriage door and stalked back towards his house.

Had the young boy watched him leave, he would have seen a look of triumph on Sirius' face, not the disappointed one that he was naturally expecting.

“What I will do in return will not be a pleasant sight….”

He settled himself on the cushioned seat and smiled in contrast to the murderous message.

`Too late.'

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A/N:

Hey, guys! Sorry for the delay, I just finished this chapter. Hope you don't give up on me. And I also apologize if it's a little short. Anyway, college kinda sucks. It's keeping me busy.