Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It feels like he is underwater. The whispers grow louder as he is pulled under. He knows that the killing curse is what got him and yet he can still hear the screams of those he loves. Remus. Harry. Oh, his sweet boy. They needed more time together, he wasn't ready. But that must be another thing that's out of his control. He hasn't felt alive in over a decade but now that he's finally dead, he can't imagine what he'll see next.

Will his brother be there? Will he want to see him? Sirius can't wait to rub it in his face that he died for a worthless cause. He hopes his mother and father aren't anywhere near him. Sirius doesn't have any beliefs so he can't say they'll be in hell, but he hopes they're suffering for being horrible parents.

All of the friends he lost, the people he's grown close to. Where will they be? Where is he going? Why couldn't he have more time? His heart aches on being another person Harry has lost. Sirius is bitter at the barely cultivated relationship that they had. His mother was right, he was nothing but a constant failure who couldn't amount to anything.

And then there was James... he couldn't see James, their last moments were so tense because of the war and he had felt that they were drifting apart. It was only natural, James had a family to take care of, and Sirius was by himself with no family left. Sirius will never forget the hollow unblinking eyes of James' corpse and the cold that started to settle on his skin. And then there was Lily, beautiful until the end. They didn't deserve what that Rat had done. They should have lived and raised their son, had more children, been happy. 

And Sirius couldn't even do what needed to be done, his failure is the reason Harry had suffered.

Who knows maybe he'll meet his own damnation.

NOT YET.

What was that? He couldn't see anything, everything was cloudy and he feels as if he is floating, nothing but the constant whispers around him. He doesn't even know if he can speak.

He tries and nothing comes out, as if his throat is all dried up. "..." His voice is gone, he can't speak but he heard something loud and clear, distant but close.

YOU NEED TO GO BACK, SIRIUS.

Who is that? He doesn't understand how long he has been here and he can feel himself start to grow tired. The clouds get darker, his vision loses sight. He wants to hold on to that voice but the feeling is too strong; he has to go, the whispers are not trying to let him go.

Just as he is about to let go, praying for one last goodbye to his sweet Harry, hoping he survives, long, longer than he should. He feels something grab him and pull. Suddenly the feeling of being underwater is gone but he still feels weightless and he cannot see anything except a bright light surrounding him.

"...where am I?" He hears himself but his mouth doesn't even move like it's his own. He tries to walk and he can only drag himself around.

SIRIUS BLACK. YOU ARE NOT DONE. YOU WILL FOLLOW ME.

"Who are you?" He hears the voice of a woman, her voice is loud but she speaks softly, he can just barely make out a shape in the brightness that surrounds him. His movements are sluggish as he tries his best to stand before the woman that has brought him here. "What are you, some deity?"

I AM EVERYTHING AND NOTHING AT THE SAME TIME. I HAVE NO POWER BEYOND WHAT HAS BEEN AGREED. I MOVE AS TO WHAT COULD BE WRONG AND WHAT COULD BE RIGHT, I ONLY LISTEN TO WHAT I AM TOLD. BUT ONCE IT IS IN MY POWER, I CONTROL IT ALL.

That only seemed to confuse him, "So you're not God?"

RELIGION ONLY SEEKS IN THOSE WHO BELIEVE, IF YOU HOLD NO BELIEFS, THEN NO ONE WILL HOLD YOU IN THEIR SANCTUM. YOU SIRIUS BLACK, HOLD NO BELIEFS. YOUR SPIRIT IS FREE TO MOVE ONCE IT HAS ACCEPTED DEATH...BUT YOU LIVE WITH REGRETS, YOU DIED A SAD MAN, YOU CAN NOT FIND PEACE UNTIL YOU FIX WHAT HAS BEEN WRONGED.

She seems to move around him as her voice echo's and as much as he doesn't believe in anything, he can see that he's talking to some higher power, "Who gives you orders to change what needs to be changed? Do you bring back everyone who has died with unhappiness?"

NOT AT ALL. I ONLY HELP THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN CHOSEN. IF YOU ARE NOT CHOSEN, THEN YOU WANDER...BECOME ONE WHO WHISPERS. I FOLLOW DEATH, TIME,...AND FATE. THEY MUST ALL THREE AGREE TO ACCEPT WHO MIGHT END UP A CONTENDER; TO CHANGE ORDER .

"You'll help...what will happen to me?" Sirius tries to get closer but she moves away as if she is swimming. "What if I don't want to be here anymore, what if I'm too tired to do your bidding?" He can't feel his legs, and his chest hurts but that seems to stop her in her tracks. Nothing indicates that she has a face but he can tell that she has slowly moved her head around to him, the sound of her voice hasn't changed but her tone grows dark, slightly sinister.

WHO ARE YOU TO DENY WHAT HAS ALREADY BEEN PUT INTO MOTION. YOUR LIFE HELD NO MEANING BEFORE. YOU SQUANDERED YOUR OPPORTUNITIES TO BE MORE. YOU WOULD SIT THERE, A SHELL OF WHAT YOU USED TO BE, AND SAY YOU WON'T DO IT? Her voice feels like an evil whisper, a continuous stab at his heart, he wants her to leave, he wants to go to sleep and be done with it all. Can't she see that he lost, that he was never strong enough for the battle.

He doesn't realize that he is crying until he feels that warm bright light gently touch his cheek, her voice no longer cruel. I DON'T WISH TO HURT YOU, BUT YOU MUST SEE THAT YOU COULD DO MORE, CHANGE THINGS, SAVE LIVES...

Harry, he can be there for his pup, raise him far far away from any who would hurt them, he would tell Remus when the time is right but no one else would know, not even Dumbledore.

"Fine. What do I have to do?" He lifts his head and stares at the bright light, ready for whatever he must do.

I CAN'T GIVE YOU ALL OF THE ANSWERS, SOME OF WHICH YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND YOURSELF. I CAN ONLY TELL YOU THAT I WILL SHOW UP WHEN YOU MUST DESPERATELY NEED ME. NOT A MOMENT SOONER. AND ONE DAY, SIRIUS, I WILL SEND ANOTHER TO HELP GUIDE YOU THROUGH YOUR CHALLENGES. BUT YOU MUST GROW, YOU MUST CHANGE OR THE ONES WHO SENT YOU HERE WILL TAKE YOU AWAY AND THAT WILL BE OUT OF MY CONTROL. NOW GO, FOR OUR TIME IS UP.

"Wait, you can't tell me anything else? What am I supposed to do exactly?!" He feels that pull grabbing him again, squeezing his body almost painfully.

MAKE GOOD DECISIONS, SIRIUS. That was the last that he heard from her before he is flung in the opposite direction, the light disappearing in an instant, only darkness remained.

He can't make good decisions! He has never made a good decision in his life! Fuck! He wishes to say it out loud but he is moving so fast, he can't even open his mouth.

He doesn't know how long he flies, it was starting to feel as if it would never end before suddenly his head hits something hard and he passes out.

Sirius, it's time to wake up...

He hears something calling him, but he's laying on something so absolutely comfortable that he honestly can't bring himself to move. 

Sirius. Wake up now.

Sirius startles up awake and as he looks around he notices the soft grey and blue of his childhood room, he didn't dare sleep in here after he broke out of Azkaban and had to hide away.

His chest hurts and he's breathing loudly but he knows no one will check up on him. His mother was evil and horrible, his father was empty, and he honestly doesn't believe that he could make up with Regulus anymore. Plus he had placed a silencing spell on his room long ago; came in handy when he would cry in his room and he didn't want his mother to come in and hex him.

He wants to move around but he feels so completely stunned by everything he sees. The last he saw of this room, it was peeling and dusty. No care for the blood traitor. Was all of that truly real? He had an active imagination but even knowing of what had happened seemed unreal. He slowly gets out of bed and moves towards where he remembers his bathroom being.

The face that stares back at him is clearly a younger version of himself but everything feels too good to be true, his breathing starts to quicken, and before he realizes it he rushes to the toilet and vomits whatever contents his younger self had stored away. His head is pounding and he can't move, he lays there until he stops feeling so dizzy.

He hears a pop in the distance and a squeaky voice calling out his name "Master Sirius? Gimsey has been told to have you brought down for breakfast. Mistress wouldn't be pleased if you miss the train back to school." 

Sirius honestly feels like death but he can remember Gimsey being his favorite elf before he left home and knowing that soon his mother would have her gifted her to one of the Mulcibers as someone's birthday present. He doesn't know what came of her but he knew they were especially cruel to their elves, hence why they always needed more.

"Gimsey, come here at once." His voice is scratchy and his legs shake as he tries to stand, he moves over to the sink and splashes water on his face. The pop from his room moves to his bathroom and soon Gimsey's huge purple eyes are staring at him in curiosity.

"Is you not feeling well Master Sirius, should I tell the Lord and Lady-" He cuts her off in a panic.

"No!" Gimsey jumps back in fear and Sirius cringes in guilt. He doesn't want to scare the poor elf but letting either of his parents know that something is wrong would only make this entire experience go from bad to worse. He sinks to her level and holds out his hand hesitantly, "Gimsey please don't get my parents...you know how they can be." The elf nods along but still stands a distance. "Would you be so kind as to tell me what day it is?" He remembers she said the train so obviously, it's September but if he knew the year.

Gimsey finally moves closer and she's within close enough distance that Sirius can softly pet her head. She makes a humming noise and gives him a small smile, "It's September 1st, Master Sirius."

"Yes dear but what year?" He stresses.

"Umm 1975?" 1975. Sirius groan inwardly, of course, he would be forced to come back to 1975; they start making the map, he has to take his O.W.L.S, James becomes captain, Remus becomes prefect, Snape calls Lily a mudblood, and he thought it would be funny to kill the toerag for giggles. Well maybe none of this is real and he can just live his life like he always has. "Do you need help getting ready Master Sirius?"

"Yes! Yes, I do, please pack everything that I would need for the train, but after we leave, pack up the rest of my room, me and you won't be here any longer." 1975. He turns sixteen in November and will be gone by Christmas break. "God why couldn't this happen in 1976, I won't have to do anything except go to class and keep track of James," He mutters to himself.

His eyes are closed so he doesn't notice how still Gimsey has gotten. "We are leaving Master Sirius?" His eyes opened again to see the fear placed back on Gimsey's face. "Has Gimsey done something wrong?" She whimpers and this only serves to make Sirius feel even more awful as well as make his headache stronger.

"No Gimsey, you are nothing but the sweetest and most helpful," He leans closer to her as if he is telling a secret, "Don't tell anyone, not even Regulus or any elf that's here, but I'm leaving this house for good."

Gimsey's already big eyes well up with tears and she hiccups out her next words, "Please don't go, Master Sirius, Master Regulus will be so sad." Sirius doesn't believe that one, his brother barely spoke to him before he died, he especially cut contact after Sirius left. Sirius shakes his head regardless as Gimsey cries, "Sorry dear but it has to be done. Don't worry though, when I leave I want you to come with me, you're my favorite."

That statement seems to brighten Gimsey up but only just slightly, "B-but where w-will we go?"

"Why the Potters, of course, old Mia and Monty are good folks, James can be brash but only to people, he's sweet on elves so no worries. Plus you'll only be bound to me."

"I will?"

"Yes, I don't understand it just yet, but I have a lot to do this year and maybe even for the years to come and I need someone who can help me."

"What will I do Master Sirius?" Sirius didn't have a clock in the bathroom and he still felt too weak to conjure up Tempus.

"At this moment you will pack up what I need for the Train. We've wasted enough time and I don't need my mother getting upset. Remember, pack the rest of the room later, but make sure no one knows what you're doing." She nods and starts to move but he calls out to her one more time. "Gimsey! If my mother says anything about giving you away, come to me immediately." Her eyes are wide but she nods her head hurriedly and then pops out of the bathroom.

Sirius finally tries to catch his breath and focus. Was he just killed by his lunatic of a cousin after spending the past twelve years as a prisoner, only to hide out in his childhood home because he was still convicted of being a murderer and then ended up meeting a vaguely threatening deity and being forced to go back in time and somehow be given the job to 'make things right'...

No that's absolutely ridiculous. He's finally just lost his mind is all, or Prongs found a nasty spell to pull on him; he was always one for dark humor. Sirius really doesn't have time for this, his mother and father always wanted to send them off early when it came to catching the train. A quick morning shower should make him feel less sick.

As he's taking off his shirt his eyes catch in the reflection a long thin scar that wraps around his ribs and he can only stare at it as that sick feeling tries to make a reappearance.

He remembers this scar, he got it when he was shivering so bad in Azkaban that even being in his animagus form wasn't helping him, he keep twitchy so badly that one of his claws caught himself, and while the wound wasn't deep enough to bleed out (even if he did they wouldn't care) but the scar always remained.

He lets out a deep breath and can feel a burning sensation gathering up in his eyes and turns away from the mirror and goes to clean up before he decides to just off himself.

Younger and more vibrant he may look, but of course, the scars remain.

Sirius is walking in the aisles of the train, trying to find a compartment with no inhabits. After separating from Regulus, his brother heading toward the front of the train where the Slytherins commonly lurk, he moves in the opposite, heading to the back compartments. It was early enough that there weren't too many people yet but starting to gather quickly.

He finally finds one with nobody inside and handles his suitcase in the overhead and flops down in his seat, trying to ignore his mother's parting words.

Sirius and Regulus stand opposite of their parents. No one looks happy and Sirius wonders why did they even bother trying to pretend they were caring parents who wanted to see them off to school.

"Regulus make sure to continue making the family proud and do what you're supposed to," His mother barks out at his brother and every word she says sounds like a threat.

Regulus nods sullenly and Sirius is begging for this to be over already.

Soon he feels her eyes on him and he can tell that the hate that shines in her eyes is reflected in his, "You, try not to be an even worse failure than you already are and do the entire family a favor and learn to be quiet." Sirius has to hold on to everything inside of him so that he doesn't flinch.

"I'll try my best!" He responds cheerily, and his mother sneers in response. However before she can say another word, his father finally speaks up for the first time, his deep voice quiet but asserting.

"Both of you be good, we'll see you during Yule. Let's go." He directs those last words to their mother before turning around and walking away, not waiting to see if she was following. Walburga's glare only deepens but she says nothing else as she trails after her husband.

He's pulling at the curls in his hair, and oh how he misses how they use to feel, when the door to the compartment he's in opens up and a sandy head pops in with a soft smile, "'Lo Pads."

Sirius can feel himself go warm with happiness as he takes in one of the last faces he ever saw, "Remus." The tall and skinny boy walks in and gets himself situated before sitting next to Sirius.

"How was your summer?" His summer? Just what was he doing summer of 1975 before his fifth year?

"Honestly Moony, I couldn't tell you if I could. Everything feels like a blur." There's a pause between them while Remus furrows his eyebrows and Sirius looks back at the hall to see if anyone was coming before turning back to Remus and pulling him close. "Moony do you feel any...different?"

Remus' eyes widen and he looks at Sirius with a weird expression, "Different how?"

Sirius moves even closer until he's whispering in the other boy's ear, "You know...like you're here but you aren't, not really," There's no noise except their breathing, "What I mean to say is, I am still who I am but my mind and my body feel different, everything's different now, you know."

"Umm no Padfoot, I don't think I do...maybe you should talk to Madame Pomfrey."

Sirius pulls back, but only enough to look at Remus, "Why would I talk to Madame Pomfrey?"

"Why wouldn't you-"

"What are you two doing?" The sound of another voice has them breaking apart and turning their heads towards the door.

There standing in all his rat-faced glory was Peter Pettigrew himself. Sirius's ears start to ring and he has to stop himself from throwing out the killing curse, being done with the boy for good. He knows he can't do that so he settles for not responding and turning away from the disgusting creature.

Sirius counts to one hundred to simmer his anger and listens to Remus and Pettigrew speak.

"Why are you carrying so much? That can't all be for you."

He hears the Rat grunt as he moves within the compartment and he curls in on himself so he doesn't accidentally touch him.

"This other one is for James, we got on at the same time and caught the sight of Evans walking by, so you can imagine how I ended up with more than just my luggage." Remus hums before continuing.

"Well I only have so much time before I have to leave for this Prefects meeting, I might see James on my way out."

"Maybe. Since you became Prefect, Evans does seem likely on who would get the title as well." 58,59,60 "Hey Padfoot! How was your summer?" 68,68,68.."Padfoot?"

"Sirius?" This time it's Remus calling his name.

Sirius is angry and he wants to stay angry. He doesn't know if he can sit there and look at that face and pretend that everything is fine and they're all just best mates. Wormtail became dead to Sirius the moment he saw James and Lily's dead bodies and heard his poor godson's cries. But he can't kill him now, last time he tried he ended up in prison. What can he do?

"Sirius!"

"Get out!" He spins around with a shout, making the other two jump, "Get out Wormtail...and go get some snacks from the trolley, on me." He speaks slowly with grit teeth, his smile strained.

Wormtail can only blink at him and shock and Remus looked suspicious. "Are you sure?"

Sirius is nodding and he goes into his backpack and pulls out a medium-sized clutch that he stole from his mother and hands it off to Wormtail with a wave, trying not to throw it in his face. "Of course, go get the first pick of treats she has and get something for Moony and Prongs as well, James would still be in good spirits after being shot down by Evans but he would enjoy the surprise."

The fat ugly face of the other boy breaks out into a wide smile and he takes the money, "Did 'ya want anything Padfoot?"

"No no just go, I'm not feeling all that well." With that, the other boy goes back out in search of the Trolley Lady.

He can't kill him yet, but he can get him out of his face. Sirius takes a deep breath and shoves his hands back into his curls, they're soft and he can focus on that. He shouldn't be spending any money he has if he's planning on being disinherited soon but that solution was better than nothing.

"Padfoot, what's wrong with you?" Damn, he forgot Moony was still here.

Sirius peaks at Remus from one eye and stops pulling on his hair, "What do you mean?"

Remus stares at Sirius.

Sirius stares back.

"I think you know what I mean."

"If I knew what you mean, I wouldn't have asked, Moony."

"Siri-"

"I need to tell you something, Moony."

Remus groans and rolls his eyes before replying in a droll tone, "Still need to talk about your body and mind?"

Sirius shakes his head and slides back over to Remus, a sad smile on his face, "No actually, I wanted to apologize."

That seems to confuse Remus even more, "What for?"

Sirius sighs, "For everything I suppose...I've looked back on how I acted and I realized that I don't treat you as a friend should. I could be selfish, impulsive, and just plain ridiculous," Grey eyes stare into amber ones, "I never want you to feel that you can't come to me because I wouldn't care, or think I would use you to hurt other people. After all, I won't do that." Not again. "You're one of my closest friends and I need you to know that. So I'm sorry if I hadn't been good enough." He finishes with a whisper.

It's silent for a moment and as much as Sirius wants to look away he's held in by Moony's intense gaze. Soon Remus pulls on Sirius' hands and quietly replies, "Padfoot. I don't know what's going on with you, but you don't have to apologize to me. You are a good friend, great even. Yes, you can be selfish, impulsive, and just plain ridiculous," Remus smirks at Sirius and he snorts, "But you are also loyal, ambitious, and smart. Whatever's got you down at the moment, just know I'll be here for you when you feel better."

Sirius hates crying, he was taught that showing emotions were a weakness, and crying never got him anywhere except more pain. However, he couldn't help the few tears that left his eyes as he buries his face in Remus's shoulder, "Thank you." He croaks out.

He doesn't know how long they stay like that but soon he can the door to their compartment closing with a thud and he opens his eyes to look over, expecting to see Wormtail return but instead, he locks eyes with a hazel gaze that he hasn't seen in years and he feels his chest tighten. "James." His voice is breathless as he takes in the form of his best friend. 

James is casually leaning against the door with his arms crossed as he looks between Sirius and Remus, "Am I interrupting?" He tilts his head and the question almost felt rhetorical but Sirius can't talk and Remus looks around before he untangles himself from Sirius and stands up to stretch.

"Not at all, I just realized that the train has started and I need to get going and meet with the rest of the prefects," He turns to Sirius before starting towards the door, "Will you be okay, Sirius? We can talk tonight if you need to." Sirius's eyes are wide and with Remus being solely focused on him, he doesn't see James' eyes narrow behind him.

Sirius shakes his head before he can finally find his voice, "Nah I'm good Moony, thank you though." Remus nods at his admission before turning back to James and the door. And maybe Sirius's eyes were playing tricks on him but the expression James wore now was carefree and playful, not the blank look and narrowed gaze he thought he saw. He should probably take a nap. That would help in avoiding Wormtail.

"Eh Moony, while you're in your meeting, give Evans my love." James winks at Remus and the werewolf can only smile.

"I think she knows, Prongs, but I'll see if she doesn't return to sender this time." James laughs at the reply and with that Moony was gone and it was him and James.

He feels those sharp eyes back on him but he's quick to look out the window and try to close his eyes again. Yep, he should take a nap, no need to talk to his dead best friend who he failed, and also failed his wife and child.

"Padfoot~" He hears the other coo at him as he moves to where Sirius is, taking up the seat Remus abandoned. He feels James' hand glide up his back and gasps at the sensation, still unwilling to open his eyes. "Why won't you look at me? I played so much Quidditch over break that I grew into my growth spurt. I won't look like a... what did you call it? Oh yeah, an 'overgrown uncoordinated gangly deer'." He continues to ignore James and all though he knew the other boy hated that with a vengeance, he was still hoping it worked in his favor.

There's only silence and for a moment Sirius can't believe his plan actually worked when he starts to feel James' hands go under his arm and tickle him.

Sirius jumps up and tries to get away from James but the younger male holds on and keeps tickling. "Oh my god! Stop!" He's finally able to push him away and moves to sit in the corner and glare at the other.

James' face shows no remorse and by the twinkle in his eye, he's seems satisfied by the turn of events.

Sirius rolls his eyes, "What's wrong with you? Were you dropped on your head?"

James shrugs and leans back and puts his hands behind his head. "I don't know maybe," He eyes Sirus up and down before speaking again, "What were you and Remus talking about?"

Sirius is still on the verge of bursting into tears after seeing Prongs again and simultaneously denying that any of this is even real and him believing that he's about to wake up in his cell. How do you tell someone that you saw their dead body, their child would end up orphaned and raised by uncaring muggles, you end up in jail for false charges because one of your closes friends betrays you for no reason, and you accomplished nothing in your life but surviving until being killed by your psychopathic cousin.

'Hey, James would you believe any of that and still appreciate me as your best friend?'

By 7th year, when James and Lily started dating he matured a lot by then but his temper was the only one to rival Sirius'. His anger was just icy compared to Sirius' fiery one.

"Padfoot." Sirius looks up to see James looking at him with an eyebrow raised. "Gonna answer my question?"

"...no?"

"No." The unimpressed look James gives him is something he was used to when someone told James no. Spoiled brat he was.

Sirius takes a deep breath and tries not to see the corpse that was his friend, and tried to put the alive version that is in front of him at this moment. "It's nothing you should worry about, Prongs, it's between me and Remus."

James stares at him unblinking, and if he wasn't already abused the majority of his childhood and had to deal with dementors for twelve years, it would have made him incredibly uncomfortable. But he's dead inside, so this doesn't bother him in the slightest.

James still keeps staring and he's not in the mood to talk long enough for Wormtail to come back so he speaks up, "So I'm gonna take a nap-"

"Why?" Prongs cut him off bluntly.

"Because I'm tired?" He replies slowly.

"And miss out on catching up with the rest of us." This sorta feels like an interrogation.

"I'm pretty sure all of you will be here tomorrow. Plus I need my rest for all the trouble I plan on causing this year." He pokes a freckle that's on James' neck, and finally, his best friend drops the intense aura that surrounds him and grins back at Sirius.

James leans in closer with a whisper, "Care to share?"

"Nope," He says, popping the 'p'. "It wouldn't be fun if I gave away all of my secrets." James chuckles and grabs his arm, pulling him over.

"Now, Padfoot be fair. How would Minnie feel if we started getting sloppy about the work we do."

"Oh please, everything I do is graceful, you're the sloppy one."

James shakes his head with a tsk, "I can assure you that I'm nothing but agile." They both laugh and Sirius looks out of the window as the train moves through the countryside. He tries to move away and back over until his corner but he's firmly held by Prongs, "What are you doing?"

"I told you I want to take a nap."

"Then use me as a pillow." He pushes Sirius' head down on his shoulder but he squirms away.

"No you're all lumpy, I wouldn't be comfortable."

"It's called muscle, Pads, plus you had no problem laying on Remus just a moment ago."

"He's not lumpy!"

"He's all bones! If you don't plan on using me as your pillow, are you gonna use Wormtail, he's nothing but squish." The thought of touching Pettigrew at all makes him sick, he cringes in response and James takes that to get Sirius back over to him, "I knew you would understand. You get your rest, Padfoot, and I'll tell you a bedtime story of the handsome King and his beautiful red-headed Queen." 

Sirius snorts but gives up on getting away anymore. "Sure go ahead, but you better add in your loyal dog and all his amazing talents."

"Always! Now once upon a time, there was an incredibly handsome, powerful, and intelligent King named James."

Sirius falls asleep like that, listening to James' dumb story, letting the day's events finally catch up to him.

Chapter Text

Sirius wakes up with a hand caressing his side and voices quietly speaking to one another. His head is groggy and he opens his eyes to see the train slowing down into the station and the night sky outside of the window.

He tries to pull himself up but he's still held down by whatever is holding him. He moves his head to the solid weight next to him and sees James facing up towards the roof of the train but his eyes are looking at Sirius through the corner of his eyes. Sirius wants to pull away, but James has a firm grip on him and Sirius is too weak to fight off the younger male again.

"Are you feeling better, Padfoot?" Sirius blinks over to the voice saying his name and he sees Pettigrew munching on Bertie Botts with a concerned look on his face. Sirius can still feel James' eyes on him and Remus is back in the compartment as well, with a book hiding his face but Sirius is more than acquainted with a suspicious Remus near him.

Sirius takes a deep breath before speaking, "Yes, Wormtail. I...didn't sleep much the previous night." His voice is quiet as he responds and he's afraid that everyone can hear how loud his heart is beating in his chest.

Peter nods with a sympathetic look on his face and looks over to Remus who's looking at James, who is still staring at Sirius. "That's not too bad, we were hoping you weren't feeling sick."

Sirius doesn't trust himself to not throw up if he keeps speaking to Wormtail so he says nothing and ignores everyone else to listen to the doors of the train start to open and the numerous footsteps of all the other students of Hogwarts move around. James wasn't lying about being more agile than him but somehow he was able to move from under him and out the door with a call back to the other three Marauders. "I want to catch an early carriage, try not to lag behind!"

"Sirius!" He hears Moony call out to him but he's moving too fast for him to catch up. Ducking between the many students and trying not to push any first years for being so lost and just standing around. Ugh, he's gonna get so much shit for that later.

He sees someone get into a carriage that doesn't have any Slytherin coloring and jumps in that one without looking to see who it could be. He tries to steady his breathing and ignore the pounding headache that he woke up with and doesn't seem to notice who he's sitting with until he locks eyes with a blue-grey pair that stare back at him.

"...Hello there." It's a boy with platinum blonde hair and he's holding a notebook and quill, he's staring at Sirius with the creepiest unblinking face.

"Hey there...what's your name?" Sirius answers back as he and the other boy stare at each other.

"Xenophilius Lovegood, it's nice to make your acquaintance, Sirius Black." The atmosphere feels very uncomfortable and Sirius thinks it's just him because...Xenophilius? He doesn't look to be bothered at all by the very awkward conversation.

"Do I know you?" That question seems to break the blonde from his sleepy-like gaze and he rolls his eyes before going back to whatever he was writing in his notebook.

"Of course not, we have never spoken to one another before. You usually just make sure that the whole school seems to know who you are." Sirius wants to feel affronted but the other boy isn't wrong.

"Yes, well right you are there. Sorry about hijacking your carriage but I wasn't in the mood to sit with my friends"

"The Marauders?"

Sirius feels like he is floating outside of his body and he can't control any of his physical moments, he doesn't even know who this person is, the name 'Lovegood' feels foggy in his brain but he needs to talk, he feels sick keeping it in, he starts babbling "...yes. James was being clingy and Remus was being annoying and they were both being suspicious and I don't know whose worse when it comes to not letting stuff go. And then Wormtail..." Sirius can't finish that sentence without starting to feel sick again; his hands going back to his hair and pulling at his curls again.

"Interesting." Xenophilius doesn't say anything else after that and doesn't look up from the notebook, there is no other sound except the scratch of his quill and Sirius' quick breathing. It's the first time since the day has started that all the whispers in his head seem to be quiet.

Sirius sits down at the Gryffindor table and tries to keep an eye out for James or Remus. The carriage he was on with Xenophilius was one of the first ones to arrive and after getting out the blonde went to sit by himself at the Ravenclaw table while Sirius headed over to his house. He doesn't know if he's hungry but he doesn't believe he can get out of not eating. He wonders if he can pretend and put the food on Wormtail's plate.

"Why do you look so sick?" Sirius turns to the voice speaking to him and sees Frank Longbottom sitting down next to him. Oh God, another decrepit ghost haunting him.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me."

"I'm not, but you should be. I heard that you ran off on the train and James was set on hunting you down." Ughhhh. Why him.

"Please don't tell me that." His face is muffled by his hands and he starts to move one hand up to his hair to get a hold of it again and pull when he feels his wrist being grabbed by someone and his body being pulled over and further down the table. The grip is firm but gentle and Sirius doesn't even have to look up to know he'll be seeing a burning hazel gaze focused on him. 

"Sirius," James' voice hisses at him quietly, "What is going on with you?... Did something happen to you this summer?" James sounds concerned and the guilt he has felt since seeing James again, doubles. He's making his best friend worry about him and he sitting here being pathetic.

Sirius makes a wounded sound and tries to get his hand free and touch the comfort of his soft hair but James won't let him and before he can say anything else, Moony slides in across from them with a pinched look that cuts James off and starts to speak.

"James, I thought we agreed on not ambushing Sirius when we see him." James' eyes flit over to Moony for a second before he looks back at Sirius.

"I never agreed to that, I said I wouldn't upset him further."

That's when Sirius decides to speak up for himself, "I'm not upset about anything, I'm just a bit tired."

James scoffs, "Bullshit."

Sirius sighs and moves closer to James and lays his head on his shoulder. He remembers when he first met James and the other was so incredibly touchy who compared to Sirius has been deprived of all touch his entire life. He still only touches people he trusts (and the occasional sex partners) but he knows to get James to settle down is to give him some form of affection.

"Prongs, leave me be, nothing is wrong, I'm. Tired." He states as he whispers in the younger boy's ear. James' grip is not as tight anymore and he's able to move and look back at Moony. Pettigrew is now sitting next to him and neither of them seems to care about how docile their leader has gotten. Sirius looks around the hall and he can see everyone catching up with each other, he sees Evans and her group chatting, he glances over at Slytherin and sees Regulus talking with some unknown snakes, Snape looking sad and pathetic; as usual, and right to James who's looking at him.

God is he tired. His dorm bed was never as big as the one in Grimmauld Place but it was more than comfortable enough. He wishes he can leave now, screw the opening feast.

"Ugh, when are the first years being brought in?" He groans.

"Are you hungry, Padfoot?" The question is from Pettigrew and Sirius has to pause for a moment before he speaks to the traitor.

"Not really." 1,2,3,4..

"Well no worries on that, Moony will make sure you eat anyway," James says with a determined look at both him and Remus and he scowls at the finality in James' tone. How dare he, he isn't the boss of him.

"I'm not a child, Prongs, I can feed myself if I wanted to." Remus sighs and waves a hand at him before he can truly start nagging at James.

"Why am I the one making sure he eats? If you're worried Padfoot will starve himself why don't you do the job yourself?" What the hell is that supposed to mean?!

"Am I so much of a bother that you don't wish to deal with me!" He growls out at Moony.

"Umm, Sirius, y-you're starting to growl, like in a dog way." Wormtail whimpers out, and he turns his anger towards him. However before he can say something truly scathing, as he starts to become more aggravated, he feels James' stupid giant hand gently grab a hold of his neck and start rubbing his thumb alongside it.

And Sirius is not the one who likes touch, but he can tell when James wants him calm, so he plays along. He quiets the growling and lets James continue.

Remus looks almost as exhausted as he would if it was a full moon, "No, Padfoot, that is not what I was saying. I don't think it's necessary to keep watch of you 24/7. Would you be so kind, Prongs, as to answer me that since everyone else here believes Sirius is capable of taking care of himself?" Pettigrew nods in agreement and all eyes turn to James, who has kept calm throughout the Marauder's whole interaction. But it's also very obvious that he's amused as well. Prat.

"Why of course, dear Moony!" The bespectacled Gryffindor replies, "I was asked earlier while I was on the train to talk about the upcoming season with some of the team and I wanted to get on that. First-year as captain and I plan on winning everything this year, as well in the years to come." He nods with his words as if he was some motivational speaker. Sirius wants to roll his eyes and judging by Remus' expression he does as well, but they've known James long enough to refrain and not cause a tantrum. Wormtail, however, is eating it up; eyes sparkling at James' committed attitude.

"Lovely." Remus deadpans, "What does that have to do with me force-feeding Sirius?" James still has his hand on his neck and he sees James out of the corner of his eye glance to look at him before he speaks up again.

"It's all simple, I won't be here to feed Sirius because I'm about to change seats, and I won't see you lads until lights out. Sirius," He shakes him slightly as he gestures to him, "Needs his rest, so I wouldn't be able to bother him until the morning and I trust that you can make sure our dear friend won't make himself sick by not eating tonight, because I wouldn't be happy if that happened." Prong's voice is steely at the end, not as jolly as he started, his hand squeezes his neck a bit but not in a painful way as he's keeping eye contact with Moony before his face brightens again and lets go of Sirius completely, "I wouldn't be happy if any you got sick, I care about all of you." He's smiling and he pats Sirius on the head one more time before he leaves with cheerful goodbye and heads further down the table where they see some of the other Gryffindor Quidditch players sitting.

"Oh wow! James is so kind!" Wormatail says with a faint blush.

"He's an absolute pain," Sirius says, he's so focused on the audacity of James Potter that he hadn't realized that he replied to Pettigrew. Was James always so adamant about getting his way? Or did his past self just always let him have his way?

Still, he has missed the kid that was his best friend, he thinks with a small smile on his face.

"He's something alright...Sirius." The command comes from Moony and Sirius is back to looking in his direction. The werewolf looks serious but concerned, "We're going to ignore James."

He easily nods to that, "Obviously."

Remus cracks a smile before he continues, "I want you to be honest with me-"

"I rather stick to being Sirius." That seems to knock the former look off of his face, making both him and Wormtail laugh, again something he's able to ignore.

"Hush now, it's just...you are okay, are you?" Oh, bother, Moony is giving that sad face that Sirius couldn't tell was manipulative or not. Of course, he's not okay, he feels fucking awful and he's been confused about what to do since this day has started. He didn't want to come back this far. He's glad that most of the people he grew to care for were alive but he doesn't know how to save them, he's not weak but if he got killed by Bellatrix, he's not matching up to the Dark Lord.

He just wanted to keep Harry, not give him to Dumbledore and live in a small cottage in Greece. This is too much, he can't do this.

"Padfoot?" He looks up to both Moony and Wormtail giving him sympathetic looks and that was when he realizes that Moony has a hold of his wrist; he was probably pulling at his hair again. "Padfoot, tell me what we can do to help you." 

Sirius feels blank and overwhelmed all at once and the louder the hall gets the more sick he feels. He takes a deep breath and tries to swallow back whatever is stuck in his throat. "Moony, I'm not fine, but I already told you this. I think...I think I just need some rest." Remus is nodding along with his words and lets go of his wrist before turning towards the main doors as they open and the first years finally walk through with McGonagall leading the pack. The Great Hall becomes silent and Sirius can once again breathe.

Finally.

Sirius stares at the food and wants to eat it but he genuinely isn't hungry. The food doesn't even smell bad or make him sick(er). But he's not hungry, has he come back as a Vampire? Should he prick himself and taste his blood? Maybe...

"Padfoot." It's Moony calling out to him and he's starting to become aggravated with the Werewolf constantly calling out to him today. Like he understands that he's acting like a complete loon and he's not acting like 'their' Sirius but can he not be bothered by the undead? Wait. Did Moony die? He hopes not, his poor pup wouldn't be able to rely on anyone anymore.

Well, he always had the Weasleys; they were good people, even if the matriarch was an absolute shrew most of the time.

"Padfoot." He looks up and sees the irritated face of Remus and realizes he hasn't answered his good friend.

"Yes, Moony." He replies with a sickenly sweet tone that the other can hear is fake.

"Eat. Please, it's too early in the year to deal with James, I have other things to focus on this year." He wants to talk back but he's been difficult enough today.

"Fine." He stares at the food and tries to find the least heavy choice that won't make him throw it on the floor like a child. He likes soup but it smells like it has lots of seasonings, which he also likes but is not in the mood for. He also sees the roast duck and mashed potatoes but that definitely looks like too much. His internal struggle must be obvious because soon a plate with plain turkey sandwiches is in his eyesight. It's Pettigrew pushing the food towards him with a hopeful look on his face.

He has never so badly wanted to stab someone with a fork. Repeatedly.

"These shouldn't be too bad for you, Sirius." His voice is small and squeaky and he cannot fathom how he was ever friends with such a creature. Maybe his mother was right, he is weak-willed and kind (she always said kind with disgust).

He silently grabs the sandwich that is furthest from Wormtail and curtly nods his head before nibbling on his meal. Remus seems satisfied with that and turns back to his own dinner and Pettigrew beams with joy at getting him to eat and he tries not to think about how the food sits in his stomach like a rock.

As he eats his sandwich he looks over to where James is sitting with the other members of the Quidditch team and some of the livelier Gryffindors. Sirius would usually be right there with him but his head is pounding and he just wants a cold compress and a soft bed and not have the issue of traveling 20 years into the past. 

When finally finishes his food, he isn't being forced into eating another so he settles into people watching. He can never tire from looking at Prongs but he wants to see some more ghosts of his past.

Lily. There she is surrounded by Marlene, Mary, and...Dorcas? How did he forget about Dorcas, she was the coolest person. He frowns at the slip-up and continues to look at one of his future best friends. The girls weren't too far from where James was sitting but they weren't close by either, great, she still can't stand the sight of him, he thinks sarcastically.

If he's being honest, Sirius doesn't exactly remember how James pulled off finally getting together with Lily. Sure he was persistent but it wasn't like the Marauder was staying celibate either. And Lily hated the persistence, she told him one day when he came to visit the couple not long after Harry was born.

"James was a berk back in the day, wasn't he," Sirius tells Lily as he lays on the floor of the nursery holding Harry above him and bringing him down to give kisses on his soft baby cheeks.

"Was? He still is." Lily grumbles as she folds Harry's laundry.

Sirius laughs at the red-head but he can hear the fondness in her tone as well. "Yet all of his trying still won you over."

"I promise you that is not what did it."

"Really?"

Lily nods and comes over to sit by him and Harry, who is now laying peacefully on his chest. "Can you imagine not having a single day of peace because some asshole doesn't understand the word no?"

Sirius is quiet for a moment and thinks about what Lily said as he absently smoothes down Harry's hair. "So what changed your mind, the thing that happened with Snape?"

Lily gets a faraway look and she brings her attention down to Harry and runs one delicate finger down his back, the baby humming in happiness as he feels his mother's magic. "No. What happened with me and Severus was just that, it was between us and the history we had. I was ready to throw away James Potter after what happened but 7th year made us both grow in different ways that help me understand that anyone can be bad at first but still have redeeming qualities." As she spoke, he knew the subject was on James but he also felt that she was speaking about someone else.

"So...not him being a berk?" That question seems to snap Lily out of her thoughts and she smirks at him and gives a slight chuckle.

"No, you Pillock. He just became nicer... and after being forced to share a common space with him in 7th year, I was forced to see his attractiveness." Sirius barks out a laugh at that and Lily's glowing red face that she hides in her equally red hair and gets a disgruntled whine from Harry.

He rubs a soothing hand down Harry's back and grins at the sweet boy's equally hilarious mother, "Never let Prongs hear that Lils, his head is big enough."

They spend the rest of the afternoon laughing at James before the man in question comes home from a meeting with Dumbledore and wonders why his wife and best friend are full of giggles with a sleeping Harry between them.

Sirius smiles at the memory and he doesn't realize how lost in thought he was before he feels a hand touch his shoulder and looks up to see Moony no longer across from him but standing right in front of him as he raises an eyebrow at Sirius.

"Sirius, c'mon. Dinner's finally over, you can go to sleep now." He nods along to Remus' words and notices how people in the hall are heading toward their dorms. How sweet of Moony to deliver the words like a guardian angel sent to kill him. Too bad that damn Deity would probably bring him back to continue his suffering without any help.

He stretches as he stands and feels more alive than he has all day, the thought of sleep sounds so blessed that he wants nothing more. He loops his arm with Moony's and starts to move, not caring if Pettigrew is near. "So you said you had plans this year, anything in particular?" They move with the crowd upstairs towards the tower, the lull of students not as loud as it had been earlier in the day.

"Why are you acting so cheerful now? I thought you were sick?"

"I can still be nosey while I'm sick."

"No, you can't, Sirius."

Sirius wants to start whining but he's cut off by Remus pulling him back, as they stop in front of The Fat Lady, Sirius heard McGonagall tell them the password at some point but he forgot with everything going on and trying to ignore Dumbledore's lame speech that he says every year.

"Bene Decisiones," Remus says to The Fat Lady and after a request to stay and listen to her singing (which Moony politely declines) they step through the door and into the Gryffindor common room. Wow, this is actually starting to feel like something real. Why couldn't he just stay dead? This is too much.

Moony is speaking with one of the 6th years and he suspects that it was another Prefect. The common room grows with more people and while some go upstairs and get ready for bed, and classes that morning, most of the older Gryffindors stay downstairs and hang out. Never say Gryffindors weren't party people. He is not in the mood to be one of them. 

As he opens the room to the 5th-year dorms, he wonders if he should take another shower since he did take one this morning. Might as well, he won't have to do it tomorrow. Sirius is an early riser but Moony always has had him beat, Wormtail makes lots of noise in the morning, no matter how quiet he tried to be, and Prongs was always up last and took the longest to get ready, forever in the shower, forever on his (disaster) hair, and forever on getting clothes together so that he can look the best. Honestly, Prongs should have been a Peacock instead of a Stag.

When he gets out of the shower, he notices he was still the only one in the room and goes to his bed. He feels as if he is dragging himself and knows that he should have started to plan out for whatever this is but that is a problem for the Sirius of tomorrow. He lays down, closes his curtains, puts a Muffliato charm around his bed for good measure, and goes to sleep.

Chapter Text

He sees himself. He can see himself and he's talking to Harry, it's all too blurry and he can't see what age Harry is. He only knows him as a baby, preteen, and just becoming a man, he wishes he could have seen every second of his life as grew bigger, every freckle, every mole, see what part of him was Lily and what part was James. He still doesn't think he fully understood the boy, he had so much going on that he never got to be a part of. He's speaking to him, what is he saying?

Harry is pacing back in forth in front of Sirius, "It's not fair, why am I not allowed to be involved in this if I am the main reason Voldemort is back, I deserve to fight," Harry complains to Sirius as they sit in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, it's late in the night and they are by themselves as the rest of the house sleeps.

"You do." Sirius agrees with Harry as he sips his tea.

"They don't understand how I feel at this moment, how uncertain everything is." The frustrated boy groans before flopping down in the chair next to his godfather.

"I promise you they do."

"But Padfoot I can fight...I want to be useful." The quiet response makes his heart clench and he sets his cup down before speaking again.

"You were never useless, Progslet," Sirius tells Harry firmly, he never wants his godson to feel that his worth is about how people can use him.

Harry is silent after that and Sirius has heard enough about his godson to know that he didn't grow up in the most supportive or loving environment, so the boy needs to be reassured.

"Harry, if you told me right now that you want to leave and not fight any longer, I would help you." He takes a hold of the boy's hand and gives him a searching look, "You're too young to be worried about saving the world, I understand that it may be hard to ignore this but if you want to take a step back, tell me."

Harry looks away for a moment before looking back at Sirius, "I won't feel satisfied until this is finally over. I'm strong, Sirius, and if I stop Voldemort and the war altogether then I'm okay with not being happy for a while because it's all gonna work out." His words grow more confident as he speaks.

Sirius can only stare at the boy before he shakes his head and smiles at him, grabbing his now cold tea and drinking the rest in one gulp. "You can be so stubborn."

"Do I get that from my dad?" The younger asks eagerly, hungry for information on his family.

"Both. Your parents were equally gigantic headaches that stuck by their rules." Harry gives a small smile and Sirius can't help the fond expression that shows on his face. "No worries, Progslet, if you want to stay and fight then I promise that I will stick by your side the whole time."

But he couldn't stay with him, he wanted to scream, he could barely even see him, they never had enough time. Sirius wants to go to Harry and hold him tight, take him away from all the bad, even if he wanted to stay and fight. Because it wasn't worth it, they didn't deserve to have all their lives destroyed by an egomaniac. 

He's trying to move closer, closer to Harry, but he only seems to be moving farther, as if he is being pulled back and not allowed to be near his godson, just like when he was in Azkaban.

He keeps reaching but soon Harry's face is swallowed up by darkness and he feels the pressure of a hand around his neck, whispering in his ear. 

"Come back, Sirius, come back and rest with us."

He's being pushed with a large amount of strength, something is trying to hurt him...but he can't stop it. He wants to give in to the pull but he starts to hear his name.

"Padfoot...Padfoot?...Sirius wake up..."

"Wake up, Sirius!" The rough movements of someone shaking him awake are what finally brings him back as he starts to see light in his surroundings and a figure right in front of him.

His vision is unclear at first but then he starts to make out the face of someone with glasses, and hair that seems to have a mind its own. Harry...

He reaches for the boy and gently touches his cheek. He's still with Harry, the whispering didn't take him, "Progslet? A-are you okay?"

"Am I okay? Are you okay, Padfoot? And did you just call me Progslet?" He blinks and soon he focuses on who he touching. James. He pulls his hand away quickly and sits back on the bed in shock, it's James, he's still in 1975, he's not back with Harry. As he stares at his best friend and sees the look of confusion on his face, he can't help but see how unlike Harry he looks.

Harry was shorter (but that's because he was malnourished by those muggles, both his parents were tall), Harry was closer to his father's olive skin tone than his mother's fair but James had a deeper tan. He never saw Harry at full adult age, but this James is the same age as the last time he saw Harry and James was...bigger, again his pup had been malnourished and the Weasleys tried to feed him all the years he lost, adding in both Potters being avid Quidditch players, but James just packed on more bulk (he would never let him know that he was anything other than fat though)

And of course, the glaring difference was the fact of hazel eyes staring at him right now and not the soft green his godson inherited from his mother.

Sirius takes in his surroundings of the dorm room and he can see that it's just him and James in the room. Moony and Wormtail are nowhere in sight, "Where is everyone else?"

"They've already been sent down for breakfast. I was waiting for you to wake up." James tells him as he sits down next to him on the bed, "When did you start talking in your sleep?" The inquisitive look he's receiving from the younger marauder is borderline suspicious and he's trying his best to shake out the sleep from his body and get started with the day.

"I don't know how you were able to hear me, I'm pretty sure I cast a charm to not make any noise."

"I noticed, that's why I got rid of it, you never do that, even with previous nightmares you sleep quiet enough that you don't bother with a spell to cloak your sounds," James told him a matter of factly.

Sirius stares at him for a moment before shaking his head and walking towards the bathroom, he doesn't feel as scrambled as he did the previous day but he still isn't looking forward to having to wake up early and go to class.

He's brushing his teeth when he notices that James is still behind him watching through the mirror. "Can I help you with something, Prongs?"

The other Marauder is languidly leaning against the wall and he seems unbothered, but Sirius knows James. James always has an ulterior motive. 

The other Gryffindor starts to speak and that brings him out of his thoughts, "Not at all, Padfoot, I was just making sure if everything is okay today?" He pauses to think over it, and he feels that he can hide his anxiety much better than he did the previous day, sadly he is under suspicion now (i.e, James being creepy and watching him do his morning routine)

"I feel lovely, Prongs, thanks for the concern." And turns back to the sink to spit out his paste. 

"Nothing bad happened this summer right, Sirius?" He wants so badly to ignore this conversation but his friends were the last ones he can ignore, he realizes that now when even Wormtail was someone he should have kept an eye on.

"I thought I already said that I was fine during the summer, Prongs."

"That's what you said but when you come back to us all scatterbrained, it makes me think that was just a lie you came up with to hide what happened," James replies dryly.

He sighs and looks at Prongs through the mirror, "And just what could I hide from the invasive likes of you and everyone else at Hogwarts?" He mumbles out in annoyance and goes about washing his face.

James' face is blank but his words almost feel aggressive and mocking as he speaks, "Oh I don't know, Pads, you live with an incredibly dark family who boldly supports a dark wizard on the rise, seems like you would be the sort who would hide being tortured by unforgivable's to keep up the pretense of being unbothered." 

The air feels knocked out of him and when he stares at James in the reflection, the younger seems surprised by what he just said. "Wha-"

"I'm sorry." James looks uncomfortable with the confession and his eyes are finally off of Sirius as he talks, "That was too far but, Padfoot, I'm not wrong, you would lie if someone hurt you and I don't want you hiding things from me."

Sirius groans and walks up to James and puts his hands on the other shoulders, "I have never hidden anything from you, you fucking numpty, what makes you think I'll suddenly lie to you about what my family does?" He shakes James for more emphasis, "I would scream from the rooftops if I knew the system wasn't in their favor. Learn to trust me, Prongs." He tells James as he steps back and gathers his things and moves about the dorm to get dressed.

"I trust you, Sirius. I don't trust those who don't think like us." Sirius snorts at James' mulish tone.

"And how exactly do we think, Prongs?" He feels the other boy stand behind him and can feel his breath on the back of his neck.

"I shouldn't have to spell it out for you, Padfoot, me and you know what makes sense and who to trust."

His mind goes to Pettigrew, "Maybe not all the time, even we can mess up."

James huffs before he moves back, "Well we can argue on that later but you need to hurry up, I'm not in the mood to get on Minnie's bad side this early into the year without reason."

Sirius rolls his eyes at Prongs and continues to get ready for the day.

It's the middle of breakfast and the entire hall is filled when he and James sit down, the Quidditch team calls James over but he waves them off and sits with the rest of the marauders.

Remus gives them a half glance as he sips his tea and Wormtail greets them happily as he eats his eggs. "Morning, Prongs! Morning, Padfoot!"

James nods in Pettigrew's direction in greeting and grabs a plate and starts to pile on some food. Sirius is deciding what he wants when he feels a kick on his leg, he looks up and sees the look Moony is giving him and leans in closer to the werewolf, "Why did you do that?" He whispers.

The lanky boy shrugs his shoulders as he takes another sip of his tea, "Just wanted to."

He glares at the other, "Eat shit." before he can move away though he feels another light kick.

"Relax for a moment, crazy. What did Prongs want to talk to you about in the dorms?"

He rolls his eyes and leans further into Moony, "How nosey the both of you can be."

Remus starts to whine and Sirius wants to laugh but soon Wormtail pushes his head in their space and he moves back with a barely held contempt, "Are you guys talking about the new professor?"

Remus shakes his head at Wormtail and looks over at James who ignores them in favor of calmly eating his breakfast, "We weren't talking about that at all, I was just being a bother to Sirius."

"And being a bother you have been, Moony." Sirius snickers at the annoyed look Remus gives before he jumps in surprise at the bowl that suddenly sits in front of him and turns to James who only stares at him with a bright grin.

"Need to keep your energy up, Padfoot."

Sirius rolls his eyes before sticking his tongue out at James and grabbing the spoon that was also offered so he can try to eat and get the stag off his back, "Well aren't you just the sweetest, Prongs," the bespectacled boy continues to smile but Sirius turns back to the other two and addresses Remus instead. "What's this I hear about a new professor?"

Remus raises an eyebrow at him but soon a small smile graces his face as he starts to speak, "I'm surprised you don't have all the information already, I thought you ran the gossip mill within Gryffindor?"

"Well I've been busy and haven't got the chance to scope out everything yet, plus I don't run the gossip mill, Mary does. Now tell me before I force it out of you." He waves his spoon threateningly.

Remus looks unamused but continues, "It's the new DADA, they say he's some researcher who been all over the world and studies all forms of magic."

Pettigrew nods along. "Yeah but mostly everyone is talking about how attractive he is." Sirius tries to rack through his scrambled brain for his 5th year DADA professor and comes up blank until he turns his head towards the head table and his eyes land on the person they're referring to. Suddenly he can't breathe and all the air from his body has been pushed out of him.

Sirius has sadly exhibited the negative aspects of being a Gryffindor in his past. He has been reckless, irresponsible, and eager for attention.

He also use to be a big ole whore. Like really big.

Now that he remembers, it was around 5th year and after that, as the marauders started to do their things and get older that Sirius would get bored and want someone to...keep him entertained. James was always chasing Lily, Remus was getting as much out of Hogwarts as he could, and Pettigrew was...well he didn't know what he was doing but with the others being busy, he got bored.

He's talking himself in circles but the reason he now remembers this professor is that this was the same man Sirius lost his virginity to.

The man was gorgeous and versatile with all forms of magic that impressed many, Sirius included. He doesn't exactly remember how it started but he remembers that there were three of them. A 7th year named Coco Laurfined, a 6th year named Yuki Hasegawa, and him in his 5th year. He was the favorite and he took pride in that because it was someone powerful, attractive, and intelligent but...but...

"Padfoot?" He spins around with wide eyes and sees the looks of confusion the rest of the Marauders are giving him. 

But he never told anyone what he did.

How could he? He was sleeping around with a professor and it's supposed to be a secret, it was something he took to his grave. It was fun and exciting and something that was just for him. Well not exactly, Coco was the daughter of successful lawyers (they were neutral during the war and fled England after she graduated), and Yuki came from a long line of Wandmakers (her parents were divorced and she lived with her mother in Britain until she was killed during an attack in Diagon Alley, she was sent to Japan to live with her father after that) and again there was him. The three of them weren't best friends (they barely talked) just the mutual respect of having an affair with the attractive 26-year-old professor.

Professor Ryan Cunningham.

"Uhh, I've lost my appetite." He pushes away his bowl of porridge and reaches for a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Don't agree with everyone about the new professor?" Remus asks him with a raised eyebrow.

"No, he's gorgeous." He immediately replies.

That makes Moony's jaw drop, Pettigrew gasp in shock, and Prong's face goes blank. He cringes at his lack of filter and chugs down the rest of his drink.

"Well don't partner up with me this year if all you plan on doing is flirting with someone out of your league," Wormtail says to him, he scowls at the creature and puts his foot further into his mouth without thinking.

"I promise you I am definitely in his league, the real question is if he is in mine." He turns his nose up at Pettigrew and then moves his head to make eye contact with James and pauses at the look he gets, "What?"

"Nothing, take another bite, you didn't eat enough." He groans and tries to push James' hand away as the younger tries to force the bowl of food back in his direction. "Sirius, eat." He's not happy about being forced to swallow down lumpy porridge but he can tell that James is still unhappy about the previous day and refusing to eat now is not what he needs on the first day of classes after seeing the man who took his first.

This is not a problem, Ryan doesn't remember him and no one knew about their relationship. Plus he's too busy to be focused on him this time. This is not a problem.

But don't you still want his attention? He shakes his head from the traitorous whisper inside his head and drowns out the conversation around him, scooping two more bites of food into his mouth until, finally, everyone gets up for classes. 

"What classes do we have, hmm?" He moves in between Moony and Prongs and all three of them (plus Pettigrew) start to head out of the great hall and towards their classes.

"James and I have Ancient Runes, aren't you signed up for Divination with Peter?" Oh great not only will he be in a subject that isn't being taught seriously, but he also has it with the traitor, he might as well start skipping class.

"I know that look, Sirius, you said that were staying in Divination because all the other subjects were boring." Remus nags him. 

"Sounds like me." The four of them are about to split off but before that James comes up and wraps his arm around his shoulders.

"Don't look so down, Padfoot, just thinks of it, you can predict how many children I'll have with Lily." More than one if he has anything to say about it.

"Is that all you think about Prongs?" Remus asks the other. James shrugs and Sirius can feel the movement as he's still being held on.

"'Course not, but it is one of my top priorities." James sounds completely sure of himself and if Sirius hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would also be in disbelief. 

Soon Sirius is trailing up the tall spiral staircase with Wormtail behind him and all he can think about is pushing him down the stairs and Ryan's brown eyes. He hasn't even realized that he's sat down until he can hear Professor Davenport flourish about the room.

"Students! This subject has always been one of my favorites. We will be diving deep into dreams and the meaning behind them. You would have a project that you will work through for the majority of the year, after that..." That was when he decided to stop paying attention and think about what should be his next course of action.

Talk to Dumbledore? ...No. He understands the methods to that man's madness but he can't get over being left to rot in prison for a crime he didn't commit. Does that mean he knows Sirius was brought back? He always seemed to know everything, even when he shouldn't.

He is in 1975, there's just too much shit to do. They have to start on the map, but Wormtail would be there and he has no way of getting rid of him without it being suspicious. He can start getting James and Lily together but would his progslet be born early if he did that? Would it even be him? How does he stop the Dark Lord from killing everyone he cares about? He can train...but he's really tired and that sounds like a lot of work.

So that's what he will do, he'll take another day (or two) to not think about it and focus on the dead people in front of him. First things first, get James off his back. Maybe he shou-

"Mr. Black, I see you deep in thought, come over to the center and grasp ahold of the crystal ball in front of the class. Let it guide your dreams and perhaps your nightmares, come now, come tell us what you see." Sirius jerks at the sound of his name, he can hear some of his classmates snickering and everyone in the room with their eyes on him. He holds back a sigh and stands up, heading towards the crystal ball that Professor Davenport is gesturing at. He sits on the chair next to it and looks back at her. She doesn't do much except smile and nod and he's stopped counting how many times he's thought of it but he wishes that he stayed dead than be forced to finish school again.

He's hesitant to touch the crystal, not because he's afraid of anything but because he hasn't been paying attention and he is worried about saying the wrong thing and looking even more like a fool.

"All crystals have meaning Mr. Black, they may all serve different purposes but serving a purpose they shall." Okay. He can touch the dumb crystal ball, what's the worst that can happen to him? He dies? Been there done that.

Sirius takes another deep breath and lays his hand on top of the crystal ball, he feels...nothing, wow what a waste of time.

"You're not putting your energy into the magic." He hears Davenport whisper into his ear. He has now found another person who he plans on pushing down the stairs, but whatever. He closes his eyes and tries to concentrate on letting some of his magic flow out onto the object. He doesn't know how long he's been sitting there trying to do something that he feels won't work but when he tries to open his eyes, the air around him feels thicker and the whispers that he keeps hearing on and off are a faded sound in the background, he forces his eyes open and suddenly finds himself running through the corridors but everything is dark and he can feel his body stumbling, he doesn't have any control over his movements but he can feel how heavy the breathing of his body is...

"Hey! Stop running!" This only makes him move faster and his legs feel shaken and uncoordinated as he pushes himself to move faster.

"Stop!" That voice sounds so familiar and he tries to listen out for who it can be but his body only tries to get away. He sees the direction of his movements and he's heading toward Dumbledore's office. What is going on? As he huffs and stumbles before the entrance he feels himself being grabbed and he lets out a soundless yell as he is spun around to face his assailant.

He locks eyes with familiar hazel eyes and tries to step back from this version of James who won't let go of his arm, he can feel the pull of trying to get out of the other boy's grip but he's holding on firmly, bordering on painful. James has never held him like that, nor has he looked at him with such a dark look.

"You need to stop moving and let me explain." His grip is starting to bruise him and he has never felt so weak before. As he tries to speak nothing comes out and all he wants is to demand an explanation from his best friend. Well first he wants to smack him for hurting his arm but then he wants to get an explanation. "He was wrong and I'll deal with him but you can't go to Dumbledore, you can't go to anyone, do you understand?" He shakes him for clarification and he can blood in his mouth as he bites his tongue.

He swallows down some of the blood and hisses at James. "How dare you threaten me! You are finally going to get what you and the rest of your monstrous friends deserve!" Sirius wants to gasp when he hears the voice that comes out of his mouth or is it Snape's mouth? How did he end up in Snape's body? Ew, he's in Snape's body, no wonder he feels like a greasy skeleton.

His attention is back on Prongs as he tries to forcefully move Snape further back into the dark corridors, away from Dumbledore's office "Sirius can take things too far but you're making this out to be a bigger issue than it has to be." Sirius wants to be offended by the callous tone that James uses but James has always been callous and from the way the situation looks, this has to have been right after Sirius let Moony "play" with Snape as a prank. What joy to bring his mistakes back at him, it still doesn't explain why he's in Snape's body, what kind of crystal ball has that kind of power?

"I knew you were insane, Potter, but this is a new low even for you, you would protect Black even if he almost killed someone?" That seems to stop James short and Snape again uses this get out the hold Prongs has on him but remains unsuccessful.

James' words come out quietly but firmly, "Yes, Snivellus, I would even help hide the body if he asked me to," He spins around to face Snape fully, one hand on his chest in a gentle manner and a calm smile on his face, it looked completely believable that James was just talking to him if it wasn't for the death grip that he had on Snape and that dark look in his eyes. "But I'm a nice guy and I can tell that this has been an upsetting day for you, so why don't you let me take you down to Poppy and get this all sorted out." This only makes Snape pull away harder from James. Sirius can feel his fear as he tries to get away but that doesn't stop James from dragging him away.

"HELP! I'M BEING ATTACKED!" The Slytherin's voice is desperate in the empty hallway, almost like a wild animal. If it was him that was hauling Snape away that night he probably would have smashed his face against the wall to make him be quiet, but James does not anger in the same way as him and his entire body stops moving and Snape drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

James sighs looking up at the ceiling as if he's dealing with a child, "You make everything so hard, but fine you wanna speak to the Headmaster then by all means let's go speak with him." Then he hauls Snape up and goes back in the direction of Dumbledore's office.

Snape follows along in shock but he soon starts to get his arm away from Prongs again, "Let go of me! I can walk in on my own! Dumbledore doesn't need to see you show the evidence of your crimes as you openly harass me."

"Whatever, Snivellus."

Snape's eyes narrow at James, his voice now at a whisper, "Why are you agreeing to turn your friends in now? You've all committed a crime in some way, you don't care anymore?" It's silent between them and Sirius is eager to hear what James has to say, only getting the aftermath of the entire situation.

"It's not that I don't care, Snape, but I know how this will play out."

"Why are you speaking in riddles! What does that even mean?!" James' silence only enrages Snape more and maybe before Sirius would have felt glee at the way Prongs handles the situation and how upset the Slytherin was getting but being faced with how his actions almost cost them so much only makes him feel numb.

Soon they arrive at the entrance of Dumbledore's office and James says the password so that they can enter, his hand never leaving Snape's arm, he knew that the boy would already have bruises from Moony but he can tell that the one James would leave would be the darkest.

"All it means is that you'll say what you have to say and I'll say what I have to say, nothing more to it." He doesn't elaborate further than that and before Sirius can hear what Snape has to say next soon he feels a pinch in the back of his head and a bright light suddenly taking over his vision.

Wait no, he has to know what happens next. But doesn't he already know? Dumbledore called all the Marauders to his office the next day and said that everything was being handled but that they had to take precautions and never bring up the event again. Snape still made comments under his breath when he saw them but after that incident, he avoided them as best as he could, and they stopped searching to harass him. Remus didn't speak to Sirius for the rest of the year, not until the last day of classes, James was angry but he only held out for a month before he acted like it never happened in the first place. And Pettigrew followed James, so he didn't speak to Sirius until James spoke to Sirius but he still wasn't as talkative as he usually was until Moony came around.

That year had been awful, he was so alone he had no one to get comfort from except Ryan. He doesn't want them to leave him again, so he won't make that mistake this time.

"Mr. Black! You did a wonderful job of letting yourself be pulled into the dream world! What did you see!" His eyes feel blurry as he sees Professor Davenport and the rest of his class staring at him, he doesn't want to try to speak and he has no idea if the whispering is coming from the class or from inside his head. "Don't be shy, what did 'ya see lad?" He opens his mouth to say something but then hears the signaling for the end of end class. Everyone forgets about him as they start gathering their things and leave the classroom. Professor Davenport calls after everyone as they exit. "Make sure to dream well tonight! We will be documenting this semester!"

Sirius quickly grabs his things and rushes out of the room, trying not to look too fidgety as he walks.

"Padfoot!" Ugh, he forgot about Wormtail, "Padfoot where are you going? You're going in the wrong direction, we have potions next." He can hear the other boy huffing behind him and he doesn't stop his quick pace and tosses a response behind him as he tries to get away.

"Umm, I forgot something in the dorm this morning, I'm gonna go and get it real quick, don't wait up for me." The pudgy boy is still talking to him but he drowns him out as he turns the corner.

He lied. He did not go back to the dorm, he went to the hospital wing because he felt too lightheaded and needed to lie down. Thankfully Poppy didn't ask too many questions after he told her he felt weird after Divination. As he lies in one of the beds with curtains drawn, he tries to sort out his brain and figure out if agreeing to come back here wasn't a mistake. Well, he didn't have much of a choice but the creepy whispering, erratic behavior, and seeing flashes of dead bodies isn't helping him.

God, he wants to cry but he's tired of doing that, he wasn't a fan of showing his emotions openly in the first place, and he doesn't want to be this oversensitive the second time around. Time to use his brain and make a plan.

1. Give himself one (two) days to adjust and be a regular person.

2. Learn to act better around the Marauders

3. Ignore Wormtail, but try not to be hostile (that one was hard)

4. Get James off his back, push him towards Lily, and plan a prank schedule (separate list)

5. Get started on the map and find out how to track future death eaters (or are they already death eaters? Thought for later)

6. Avoid Ryan (...maybe)

7. Get all O's (just because he can)

He takes another deep breath and opens his eyes when he sees Madame Pomfrey walking over to him. "Alright Mr. Black, it's almost lunchtime, try to go and eat something and attend the rest of your classes, and if your head is still bothering you later then come back and see me." He nods and stands up stretches and walks out of the empty hospital wing into an equally empty hallway. Everyone must already be at lunch.

He feels sluggish but pushes on to the great hall, he's starting to feel his appetite come back to him and he's thinking about roast chicken when he hears voices coming towards him. He freezes for a moment when he hears that one of the voices is Lily. He can stay and wait for her to see him standing there like a freak or he can hide around the corner and listen to what she's saying.

Neither option shows him in a good light so he might as well choose the one where he gets to be nosey. He moves just in time between the hidden corridor so that he can see the redhead in his vision but she can't see him and he can see her talking to Snape. Ugh, he's had to deal with too much Snape today.

"Severus, you didn't answer my letters this summer and every time I tried to visit you weren't there." The Gryffindor girl is talking to the Slytherin quietly as they head in the opposite direction of the great hall.

"That's because we had our apprenticeships, Lily, I was busy just as much as you were."

This makes the girl huff, "But I still made the time, Severus, I'm worried about you, lately, the things do and the people you hang around-"

"Don't worry about the people I'm around!" He snaps at her before his shoulders sag and looks back at her apologetically, "Lily please don't push, I'm not doing anything wrong, I'm just making sure that when we leave school, I'll come out successful."

She's quiet for a moment before answering, "Alright Severus, if you said it's not a problem then I won't worry about it." Then she continues walking in the direction they were heading in, Snape follows behind her with his head hanging low.

Sirius waits to see if they are completely gone before he moves out of his hiding spot and resumes his trek towards the great hall. He is not going to think about that conversation until after his one (two) day break.

Chapter Text

Sirius was ready for the day. After acting like a complete loon, he took the rest of the first week of school to get his mind in order so that he can blend in with his younger classmates and peers. He doesn't feel that he can ever go back to being the person that he was previously, but he's not that bad of an actor, he can pretend.

It's Monday and he tries to be the first one up, but somehow Moony was still able to beat him. As he tiredly walks into the bathroom, rubbing his eyes, he spots the other marauder calmly brushing his teeth. He stands there in shock because he honestly believed that he would wake up first. He set an alarm on his wand and everything.

Remus glances over at him and raises an eyebrow at Sirius's frozen stature, "Is there something I can help you with, Padfoot?"

He rolls his eyes and starts to move around Moony so that he can get ready for the morning, "Why do you wake up so early? Aren't you always complaining about how tired you are?"

"I am always tired." The Werewolf responds without missing a beat.

"Then go back to bed, you moron."

"Can't," Remus shrugs, "My body always wakes me up this early, and once I'm awake, I'm awake." Then spits out his toothpaste before splashing some water on his face (and throwing some on Sirius because he likes to be annoying) before gathering his things and then heading back into their room, "Oh, and Sirius, I did have to meet with Lily about some patrol times so I was gonna head down already, would you be a dear and wake the kids up, thanks." He says all of this while walking out of the bathroom and not waiting for Sirius to give a response.

Sirius was in the middle of washing his hair while he was in the shower and he hadn't caught what Moony said until he was gone, so after cursing Remus out, he finishes up everything he had to do in the bathroom and grabs his robe so that he get dressed.

Normally Sirius wouldn't have an issue (trying and struggling) if he had to wake up James, the Sirius of before wouldn't have had an issue waking him and Wormtail up, but he had a plan for the day and it didn't include helping anyone else out, he wanted to get down to the library before breakfast was over and look for books pertaining to different spells. He could always ignore Remus and still do what he wanted...but if either of the others were late, they all get blamed for it. It's like professors refuse to separate them.

As he finishes getting dressed and throwing his hair up in a messy bun, he stands in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips and looks at the two other occupants in the room, Pettigrew was halfway out of his bed, snoring loudly, and James had his curtains drawn up. He's gonna wake James because that's harder and he doesn't care if the rat is late.

As he tiptoes over to James' bed he quietly pulls back the curtain and pulls out his wand, "Aguamenti!" He sprays James in the face with water and the younger immediately sits up, coughing out the water that got all over his face.

The hazel-eyed boy is panting when his eyes turn towards Sirius, who can't stop laughing at the expression on the younger's face. "Padfoot, really?"

"What?" He answers back innocently.

The younger marauder just shakes his head and rolls his eyes, moving to get out of the bed, "Laugh now, but I'll get you back."

"Oh, I'll be ready for you," He hands James his glasses before he goes back over to his side of the room and grabs his things, "Wake Wormtail while you're at it, I'm going to head down early so I'll see you at the table." He glances at James for any confirmation but the stag is blinking sleepily and leaning against his bed, he waits until Prongs makes eye contact and gives a slight nod.

Sirius takes that answer for what it is and heads out the door, he doesn't stop to make conversation with anyone else in the dorms as he sees some people sitting in the common room and leaves out to head for the library. Since it's still so early there is no one else in the library except for Madam Pince, who gives him a narrowed glare that he happily ignores and heads straight for a section on theory.

He honestly has no idea what he's looking for but he needs spells to get stronger so that next time he ends up fighting a death eater, he's not the one dying. Then there's the map, he wants to get started on that as well, he remembers the entire process of how they made it but when it came down to the ruins and athrimacy of putting it together, that mainly consisted of Prongs and Moony, they were the ones who took those classes so they knew the mechanics behind it all. All Sirius had to do last time was be pretty and explore every corner of the castle. He has no issue doing that again (because he has no trouble being beautiful) but being stuck with Wormtail during the process is not ideal, hence making himself to learn some of the material so that when the time comes he's not forced into that position.

He's deep in a book on charms when he hears the scratching of a quill next to him. He looks up and sees a platinum blonde head bent down writing in a notebook. What the fuck?

"...hello?" He calls to the person sitting by him. The writing stops and they look up and he remembers that it's the boy he sat with on the carriage.

"Hello." The Ravenclaw responds before he goes back to the task at hand and continues his writing.

It's quiet between them and Sirius feels like he might go back to losing his mind, "Umm your name is Lovegood, right?'

"Yes, Xenophilius Lovegood, nice to see you again, Sirius," Xenophilius says all of this while he still writes and Sirius can't tell if the other boy is being sarcastic or not.

He can't pay attention to what he was reading before so he decides to watch Xenophilius, "Whatcha writin'?"

That makes the blonde blink up at him slightly in confusion before his expression smoothes back out into the serene one he was keeping on his face previously, "I'm journaling. I like to write down my findings and thoughts."

"What sorts of thoughts and findings do you have?"

"Wrackspurts of course." Again Sirius feels like he is on the verge of losing his mind. He knows that by the time he escaped prison he didn't really pay attention to those who weren't on the list of people he cared about but he wishes he knew who the hell Xenophilius Lovegood was. Just to see if talking to him is a waste of his time or if he could be on the verge of snubbing a future philanthropist. 

"Fascinating. So you write because it's a fun hobby of yours?"

"No, I write facts because I'm good at it, I plan on being a publisher." Well, he can't say he didn't like someone who knew what they wanted.

He should be heading down to breakfast, skipping will only guarantee that four eyes is back to putting him on the watch list. But nothing wrong with having new friends who can be new allies. His father always told them that knowing those who knew the most will make you the most important person nearby. Never made much sense to him before but he's starting to understand the benefits now.

"That's a good thing to know what you want to do this early on. I don't think I even started thinking about stuff like the future and what I want to be."

"Well there's no time like the present, what are you good at?" Sex. However he doesn't say that out loud, he ponders on that as the Ravenclaw writes.

"I don't know, I'm smart and good-looking, so I just get by with those factors."

"...okay. Well then you say you're smart, do you know how to do wandless magic?"

"...No-"

"Well start on that and get smarter, learn as many spells as you can, what about doing magic without speaking?"

"Uhh-"

"Then do that as well. Do you even know how to do occlumency and legilimency?"

"No! Do you!" Aggravated at the continued questions and earning a hiss from Madam Pince to be quiet or she'll remove him.

Xenophilius looks amused and he's this close to throwing a book at his head, Madam Pince is damned. "No of course I don't know that stuff, that's all very complex magic. But you said you were smart so learning how to do that shouldn't be difficult for you."

"It won't be." He sticks his nose up at the younger.

"That's good, checking out books on that and learning would be very impressive to see, maybe then you'll know what you want to do in the future." Then goes back to his writing. Sirius can only stare at the other. Does he listen and get the books (he will) or does he push him out of the window and make a run for it? (possible with no witnesses but what if he comes back as a ghost? He'll tell everyone)

"Hm, well what advice do you have on my good looks?" The other doesn't look up, but Sirius can see a blush forming on his face.

"I don't know, I can't say I have ever thought about people and their...attractiveness." His face becomes darker as he speaks, and Sirius can feel some glee as he made the aloof boy uncomfortable.

"Well, if you ever need any help, don't be scared to come and get me." He bops the Ravenclaw's nose before skipping away to gather the necessary books he needs so that he can head down to the great hall for breakfast.

He's not at all attracted to the Ravenclaw, but it sure was fun to mess with him.

He later to breakfast than what he planned on being but still with more than enough time to sit down and enjoy a plate. The books in his arms are heavy but nothing he can't handle and he's excited to get a start on them.

As he drops the books down on the table next to Remus, he startles Pettigrew with noise, and that only makes his glee from an earlier return and he lets out a small snicker as he sits down. James is across from him talking to Frank Longbottom and his best friend, Davy Hawthorne, both of whom are on the Quidditch team with James. Prongs makes a glance at him and his books, which Sirius returns with a smile, and Prongs gives him a smirk before turning back to Frank and Davy. Yep, he's still planning on revenge. Oh well.

He grabs his plate and starts to pile on some fruit when out of the corner of his eye he can see Moony reaching for the book on the top, he smacks his hand and doesn't falter under the glare the werewolf gives him, "You are so nosey, Remus."

The other boy just rolls his eyes and still takes one of his books, this time being faster than Sirius, and moves over so that he could look at the book, "I don't care. Why do you have a book on wandless magic?"

"Obviously I want to learn."

"Since when?" Since a blonde know-it-all decided to test how intelligent I was.

He shrugs and turns back to his plate, "Since this summer."

Remus narrows his eyes at him, "Really?"

Sirius drinks his pumpkin juice and holds out his hand for his book, which Remus gives back to him.

"Nothing wrong with a bit of extra learning, Moony, the people have to know that not only am I better looking than them, I'm also smarter, which includes you, so back off because I'm taking the top spot this year, kay'."

Remus scoffs and goes to take a strawberry off of his plate, "Get over yourself, Padfoot."

The atmosphere is relaxed and Sirius can say he's missed this part of his life. At first, he hated the thought of coming back because it meant that he was going to do all of his failures over again but now with everything in front of him, he won't fail, he'll plan and succeed, and whoever gets in the way, he'll quickly get rid of, no use in sugarcoating it. He's going to be a player in this game, not a pawn. 

So with that in his mind..."Jaime," Prongs' attention is immediately on him, "Come over here for a sec, sweetheart." Prongs groans and roll his eyes but he still listens and moves closer to where Sirius and the rest of the marauders are.

"What can I do for you, darling?" Sirius leans in closer and that automatically makes the other three lean in as well.

"I have a plan for this year, we're gonna start on a fun little project that will probably last until we get out of Hogwarts."

"What kinda project would last that long?" Remus asks.

"A map of the entire school. Every hallway, every classroom, every secret passageway, and everybody on the school's grounds. While they move." He can already see the gears working in Moony and Prongs' heads, trying to figure out what would need to be applied.

Wormtail scrunches up his nose and gives Sirius a confused look, "How would that work?"

Sirius gives a blank look in return, "Magic duh. Keep up would you, James and Remus are gonna do the heavy lifting and put together all the technical issues, you will go around the school in your tiny little alter ego so that we have every nook and cranny discovered of the school and maybe Hogsmeade as well, and I will study."

"Study?!" The other three reply in unison.

"Yes, study. I have a personal project that I want to conduct and I need to look further into the charms to see if it would even work."

"And what personal project do you plan on conducting, sounds like you don't want to help with what you just offered," James asks him with that annoying little smirk he puts on when he's thinking something that would end up aggravating the rest of them later on, "I don't think you're being a team player, Siri."

"Shut up, I have never wanted to be a 'team player', but no worries for any of you, I will be helping on the map, I just also want to see if I can do some other things."

"Like?" Remus stressed.

He makes a humming sound and wonders if he should tell them or not, Nah he'll lie "Make new friends." 

That makes the other marauders laugh out and Sirius can't help but be offended at how funny they think that is. Like yeah, he was lying but it was a convincible lie, "The hell is so funny? Do I look like some kind of troll to you, I can make friends."

James reaches out and pinches one of Sirius's cheeks, "You can and you can't, Padfoot, you can if you were more friendly to anybody outside of our circle, and you can't for that same reason. You don't like people and you don't like getting to know people as well, but don't worry I like that about you."

Remus scoffs and starts to stand up and grab his bag as the time for classes has come, "That's only because you're too friendly, Prongs, you're friends with everybody."

"Not Slytherins."

"Yes, such high standards."

Sirius wants to tell them that they're wrong but as he looks back on it, he is kind of a hard-to-please person, he's only charming to those he wants to be and when he doesn't, they don't even fall on his radar. Most of the people he talks to in Gryffindor are only through the others (oh God, Wormtail spoke to more people than him).

Does that really bother him though?

Nah, he's not here to make friends, he came back to change all the wrongs, all he cares about are James and Remus.

They're in DADA and Sirius wants to dread being here because of Ryan but when they were in class last week, the older man (or is he younger at this point?) didn't spare him a glance and Sirius wants to contribute that to being an out of his mind nutcase who could barely look at people. But it should be fine, all he has to do is stay away and not be distracted by the handsome professor who gave him just the right amount of attention.

He's sitting next to James who's staring off into space and Sirius is trying his best to not make eye contact with Ryan.

"As fifth years, you all have the capabilities to expand your magic in different ways, whether that has to deal with offensive or defensive magic, I don't see the point in limiting oneself to a certain type of magic, today I wanted to start us off in two groups, play a little game called shields and swords, one half of you will be in one group testing out your attack spells and the other half will be protecting yourselves in defense spells. Nothing lethal please this is a learning experience not a time to show out because of house rivalry. None of that matters to me." Ryan says in a bored tone.

He remembers Ryan telling him that he went to a private school for wizards in Australia. It was not a boarding institute like Hogwarts and it was small enough that its students weren't separated by houses, he said he never understood how you can dislike some based on being in a different house when everyone went to the same school. He didn't try to argue with him back then because Sirius didn't care to explain how the majority of Slytherins were dark wizards on the rise.

It makes sense of what he says now but that doesn't stop the fact that as soon as they graduate they will the leading factor in Voldemort's rise to power (or maybe they've already started).

Sirius finds himself in the attack group with Wormtail (and he's getting sick of constantly being paired up with the worm) while Prongs and Moony are in the defense category. Sirius doesn't like how many Slytherins are standing next to him as his "teammates", they might accidentally hit him instead.

"Now swords raise your wands and fire off the first spell that comes to mind, when it comes to defending yourself you won't have time to think, you're moving purely on reflex and skill, that goes for the shields as well, using the same defense methods only makes your opponent aware of how you protect yourself, finding different ways to utilize your magic will always help you out in the long run. Okay on three start attacking." When he calls out for everyone to start, it almost feels like a bloodbath, without the blood. This sort of chaos would be heavily disapproved by the rest of the staff at Hogwarts, but Ryan was more on the sadistic side.

Sirius was not wrong in not trusting his Slytherin counterparts, they do try to attack all Gryffindors in the room and vice versa, it feels like a miniature war. It's probably a good thing he fought in a real battle in his previous life, he's able to attack just as much as he defends, and sadly for anyone in the room who can't properly duel, it's showing who is weaker and who is stronger, and who is resourceful as well. The only reason this bout of anarchy hasn't been stopped is that everyone in the room seemed to have listened to Ryan when he said nothing lethal. It's bordering on malicious for some here and there but nothing to kill thankfully.

It goes on for a while until there are only just a few left and Sirius can't tell who won since the positions got mixed. All he knows is that he's standing with the rest of the marauders, Lily, Marlene, Snape, Rosier, and Dolohov, there's a slight pain in his chest from being physically elbowed by Rowle but after Sirius kicked him in the shin and stunned him, he didn't have to worry about anyone getting too close.

Ryan claps his hands with a pleased expression and tells everyone to go back to their seats. No one argues based on how exhausted the entire classroom looks and drags themselves back to their desks. When they sit down Prongs immediately folds his arms and lays down on them, Sirius can't help himself and starts caressing the other boy's hair, James pays him no mind and keeps his eyes closed. Ryan doesn't seem deterred by the majority of the room treating this as if they're in History of Magic and goes to lecture about magical objects and their uses. He would take notes but Moony's already doing that, so he'll just copy them later, plus he doesn't want to stop playing with James' hair.

When class is finally over and everyone is still groggy, they quietly move out the door so that they can attend their next lesson.

"Mr. Black a word?" That voice makes him freeze and he's holding his books to his chest when he slowly turns his head and it's Ryan waving him over. Professor Cunningham, his name is Professor Cunningham. 

He shakes his head to get the thought stuck and looks back at the rest of the Marauders, who are mainly looking at Sirius. He can see the judgment on Moony's face, giving him a 'what did you do now?' look. He glares at Moony and waves the rest of them off, "Go on ahead without me, I'll catch up." They seem almost reluctant to leave before they head out themselves, the door closing firmly behind them. 

He holds his head down as he walks towards Rya-Professor Cunningham and stands in front of him with a small smile, "Is there a problem, Professor?"

Professor Cunningham's eyes scan over him briskly before he gives him his gentle smile, "I saw your abilities out there, it was very impressive."

"Thank you, I've had training as I was growing up." He says as he tries to keep all of his books from falling.

Ryan looks down at his stack before looking back up at him, "I see you have a book on magical absorption, not many students would go out to read that, it doesn't strike many until adulthood."

"Uhh, well that's because I had a small idea in mind to try out putting my magic into the things around me."

"What such things?"

"...objects. You know like books, parchment, maybe work my way up to rooms and buildings-"

"Buildings? And what buildings do you wish to have your magic inside of?"...Hogwarts. But he's not saying that.

"My own home. I heard that when there has been magic infused into something, it leaves a lingering effect that always calls back to the user. So if I wanted to use that previous magic in any way it would be available."

Ryan looks deep in thought like he's pondering Sirius's words. Sirius doesn't know if this is all he wants to talk about because it didn't seem important enough to keep him. "Yes, that is a possibility but usually not with those who don't have a strong magical core."

He raises an eyebrow at the older man and readjusts his books, "Well not to be rude Professor but I have no issue with my core, if I wanted to, I would easily be able to deconstruct my magic and place it elsewhere," He tilts his head and looks off to the side before focusing back on to the other man, "Now if you would excuse me, I have another class to get to and I don't want to be late."

His statement only makes Ryan smirk and he slowly moves closer into Sirius's space and moves a piece of his hair out of his face that fell from his bun, "Well Mr. Black, I would hate to keep you. I just wanted to converse with such an intelligent student of mine, we can always talk another time, have a wonderful day."

Sirius can only blink before he lets out a soft breath and nods his head, "Of course, you as well." Then quickly turns around to leave. As soon as he steps out of the door, there are a pair of amber eyes in front of his face that have him jumping back, "Merlin! Remus what the hell!" Moony is standing directly in front of him with his hands on his hips and his foot tapping as if he were ready to scold Sirius.

"What took you so long? We had to circle back around, Filch was getting suspicious and Peeves almost snitched." Sirius can see James and Wormtail standing behind Remus with their own looks of disbelief. 

He shrugs his shoulders and side steps Moony to move in the direction of their next class, "It was nothing, we were talking about my performance in class."

"The year just started," James says.

"And I've already impressed. Don't you see gentlemen, I'm amazing." They walk in silence for a moment before Prongs says something again.

"Padfoot," He hums in acknowledgment, "I want to know exactly what the two of you spoke about."

"Why?"

The look on his face is unperturbed but he sounds similar to the day on the train when he was asking Sirius about him and Moony, "I'm just curious, don't sound so distrustful. You were in there for a while and you didn't explain what was said."

Sirius stops walking to give James a look, "Because nothing happened."

"Nothing happened in that long amount of time?" That mocking tone is in his voice and Sirius clenches his stuff closer to himself and lets out a deep breath.

However before Sirius can say another word, Remus steps in between the two of them with a cheery expression on his face, "Don't worry about it, Sirius, we were just concerned as we waited and we thought you got in trouble or something."

"I wouldn't lie, Moony." Remus nods at that but Sirius swears he can hear James scoff and he almost turned back to the bull-headed stag if it wasn't for the tight grip that Remus had on his hand. He loops his arm in with Sirius' and continues back in the direction of their class.

"You know what we haven't done yet? A prank. The school has been in session a full week and we have yet to cause mayhem. Don't want the student body to think we're going soft." He can hear Wormtail squeak in excitement and James' silent steps behind them.

Sirius puts what just happen away and smirks at Remus, "Hmm, is this the prefect I hear talking about the first prank of the year?"

Remus laughs softly before he replies with a smirk of his own, "Just because I'm a prefect now doesn't mean I stopped being a marauder."

"I like the sound of that, now dear Moony, what is this oh-so-lovely prank you've thought of?"

"Well..."

They're done with classes for the day and Sirius has not spoken to James once since their earlier spat. (Or would that even be considered a spat?) There's been no tension just silence because James is stubborn and he hates to apologize, and Sirius refuses to say sorry and he knows he didn't even do anything wrong.

It's almost dinner time and after Remus relayed what prank they were doing, the four of them find themselves in the kitchens. Remus is talking to one of the elves in charge and Wormtail is eating off of one of the plates. James is standing next to him but neither of them looks at the other.

Sirius is about to walk over to Remus when he feels James grab his elbow. "Sirius can we talk."

"Nope." He says to the younger and tries to pull away but obviously, that didn't work and James takes him to a corner away from the other two and the rest of the elves working in the kitchen.

"Sirius, I wanna talk."

He takes his arm away from James and crosses them, "And I said no."

Hazel eyes narrow behind gold-rimmed glasses, "Okay then, I'll talk and you'll listen," He sucks his teeth at the younger but that doesn't stop James from talking, "Sirius, I'll be honest, today it felt like you were lying to us," He gasps in shock but James keeps speaking, "I don't know why but you suddenly speaking with a professor about your performance isn't something that you usually do,"

"So what, James? You think I asked him for extra tutoring or something because I'm some kind of idiot who would lie to his friends about what he did," His words come out bitter and he can't help the hurt that seeps into his tone. "I have never given you any reason to not trust me, James, I don't know why you're being so weird this year." He doesn't know why James is treating him so differently, in his first life, when it was their fifth year James Potter did what he always did, go to class, play Quidditch, chase Lily, and pull pranks with his friends. Even when Sirius was sleeping with Ryan the first time, none of them ever suspected, and they probably wouldn't have cared if they did find out.

He had no time to have an affair with the professor this time around, and he doesn't understand why an almost 10-minute conversation would set James off in this way.

His attention is brought back to James who gives him a disheartened expression, "Padfoot, don't do that to me, of course, you're brilliant, and I do trust you. Who I don't trust is that professor."

"Why?" He asks incredulously.

"I don't know, he's weird."

"He is not weird."

"Yes, he is. He was staring at you all funny when he asked you to stay behind." He was? Sirius does not remember that.

"James, I don't think Professor Cunningham is weird," James opens his mouth to argue but Sirius puts his finger on his mouth, "I do not think he is weird, but if you do, I will trust you and I won't stay behind anymore, but you have to trust me and believe that nothing happened, okay?"

The other boy is thinking it over with a mulish expression before he nods, "Okay." Sirius beams up at him before taking his hand and walking back over to the others.

"Glad to hear that you've let it go." Prongs doesn't do anything else except squeeze his hand in response.

Sirius is practically skipping when they return over to Remus and Pettigrew are, "Okay, all ready, Moony!"

Moony raise his eyebrows at them before quickly looking between the two and nodding, "Good to know, did you get all those ingredients I needed from the potions lab?"

"Oh you know I did, only reason I'm not in the sluggy club is because the old man always thinks I'm up to something."

"I wonder why he would think that about you."

"I know right." They both snicker before Remus takes the different vials he asked for before moving around all the pots and dishes that are being prepared.

"Okay, so you all know we have to eat this too, no matter what we get, the outcome is a random selection at this point."

Wormtail whines and wipes some of the crumbs off of his face, "Aww Moony, do we have to? I don't want to be choking on something gross throughout dinner."

James tsks and moves the hand that held Sirius' and wraps it around his waist, pulling him closer, "You gotta be a team player, Peter, if we're the only ones not hacking up anything, we'll get caught, let's try to see how long we can go before we get detention, okay." Wormtail whines again but still agrees with James.

Sirius claps, gaining the attention of the other three, "I don't know about you, but I'm ready to see this plan in action."

"You are absolutely right, Padfoot, plus we need to make ourselves scarce of the scene of the crime, I bribed the elves but if we get caught, there's no point in this," Remus says before they all scramble to leave the kitchens and head back up to the common room before dinner starts.

Dinner starts off smoothly and everyone in the entire hall is eating and none of the marauders act out of the ordinary to cause suspicion. Sirius is chewing on a breadstick when he decides to poke Remus in the ribs.

The lanky boy jumps before glaring at Sirius, "What do want, Padfoot?"

"Nothing, just want to know if you gotta do your boring prefect thing and patrol."

"Well it was the job I was given, but no actually I don't have to patrol until tomorrow night, I get to skip out on Astronomy. Why? Do you need me for something?"

Sirius shrugs and takes another bite of his bread, "I wanted in on that prefect's bathroom I've heard about, thinking of giving myself a spa day." Ever since he escaped Azkaban and was able to take regular showers again, he's always wanted a good soak. But the plumbing in his parent's old home was old and unused and the best he could get was lukewarm water with no fancy soap essentials. He wanted to complain but they were in the middle of a war and he was an escaped convict, luxury wasn't an option. Plus he always felt bad for thinking about it when none of the Weasley children complained. Or Harry.

But he's not there anymore, he has the freedom to sit in the tub until he's all pruney now.

Remus sighs and leans in with a whisper, "Let me check it out first and figure out when it wouldn't be used and I promise you can have first dibs."

"Yay, thank you."

"No Prob-" He gets cut off by a loud noise coming from the Ravenclaw table. It's a sixth-year boy standing up and he's holding his mouth as he coughs, until he couldn't hold it anymore and ash starts to come out of his mouth, that makes others around him panic and stand up but soon someone else from Slytherin is spitting out worms, and a Hufflepuff has honey from dribbling out of their mouth.

That's when everyone in the entire school has something coming out of their mouths, grass, chocolate, water, even slugs. All the house heads stand up, hoping to stop all the trouble but soon turn towards Dumbledore who's chuckling and spiting out lemon drops, putting them on his plate as if to save for later.

Sirius is laughing so hard his chest pain from earlier returns, and it doesn't help that he's hiccuping bubbles, he feels delirious with glee and laughs at Moony's pinched expression as he coughs up dirt, Wormtail groaning in agony as slugs come out of his mouth and sharing a smirk with James who doesn't seem deterred by the small amounts of fire coming out of his mouth.

It was everything he use to love about school, and he's glad to enjoy the small moments before the bigger ones come into effect.

It's time for bed now and after the disaster that was dinner, Madam Pomfrey along with professor Slughorn was able to whip up antidotes for everyone and send them to bed, some people who were coughing a little too hard stayed in the infirmary for observation though.

McGonagall gave all four of the marauders a hard stare but all their tracks were covered and she had no proof to use against them. So they went to bed without a fuss. Sirius is yawning as he comes out of the bathroom from brushing his teeth, ready to go to bed after such a full day. He can see Pettigrew nodding off, and Remus reading some charms book, as he glances over at James, the stag is lying comfortably on his bed with his eyes closed and his arms behind his head.

Sirius can tell his best friend isn't asleep but he doesn't think about it any further, he's probably just daydreaming about Lily.

As he goes climbing into his bed, he slips from off before he can even lay his head down, landing on the floor with a bang. What the fuck?

"Ow!" He tries to grab ahold of his bed and pull himself up but he only manages to slip again, "What the hell!" He can hear James snicker and snaps his head over to him, he stands up on shaky legs, this time pulling himself up by the end table next to his bed and rushing over to James, smacking his arm before taking one of his pillows and trying to smother him with it. "You think you're so hilarious, what did you do to my bed James, it feels gross and slippery!"

Prongs only continue to laugh as he fights off Sirius, "Why should I tell you? You were the one who said they were gonna be ready for when I get ya back." He can't even dignify that with a response so he just tries harder to smash his face.

"What is going on?" Remus sounds too exhausted to be dealing with this and Sirius doesn't blame him but he's too busy trying to kill James.

"James did something gross to my bed and now it feels all oily and greasy."

"What? Like Snape's hair?" That makes him gasp and stop his assault on James to look at Remus who is looking at his bed in curiosity.

"Why would you say that!" He pulls at his hair before standing up, "Now I feel like I have to take another shower!"

"Sirius stop being so dramatic, you barely touched the damn thing, James will just fix it, right James?"

The boy is questioned still lying lazily on his bed, watching them, "Nah, I don't feel like it right now."

"James!" He growls at him, but Prongs still seems unaffected by Sirius's anger.

That's when Wormtail speaks up before he covers himself with his blanket, "Moony make them be quiet."

Remus shoves his hands over his face, and mutters something before glancing back up at them, "James, it's getting late, can you just fix whatever you did, please?"

James makes an exaggerated yawn before moving over on his bed, "Sirius can just sleep with me, c'mon Pads, be a good boy and lay down next to me." He says with a snap of fingers and a whistle.

Sirius is unfazed, "Eat shit."

"Sirius, I promise to fix your bed in the morning, just sleep with me tonight, I'm too tired to move." Sirius isn't all that mad, and it isn't the first time he and James have shared a bed together. If he wasn't sleepy he would continue this war but since he is he just goes over to the spot James made for him, "See, all better, night Moony, night Wormtail." He doesn't wait for their response before he closes his curtains and casts a silencing charm.

Sirius sits up with his arms crossed as he watches James lay down and close his eyes, content to fall asleep like he hadn't just ruined his night routine, "Since I'm sleeping here, I'm taking all of the pillows and the blanket...and I'll put my cold feet on you too."

"Okay, Sirius."

"I'll get you back when I'm not tired."

"I'll be waiting."

"...what did you do to my bed?"

"Cast a spell that covered it in wax."

"What?! Ugh, James-" Before he can complain anymore, James pulls him down next to him.

"Shh, go to sleep."

"Fine." As much as wishes to keep arguing, his body gives out on him and soon he is softly snoring along next to James.

Chapter Text

Sirius has been back at Hogwarts for over a month now and with it being the middle of October came cooler weather and the first rounds of the Quidditch season. He's been busy focusing on his little side project of trying to get his magic absorbed into Hogwarts (he's failing at the moment, it's a lot more complex than he realized and he has to be more delicate about doing it because messing with an ancient castle isn't simple -death- and doesn't want to make any mistakes -he would die- ) and there also came the task of trying to get the map exactly as he remembers if not better (he wanted to add on Hogsmeade as well but Moony told him that they should take it one step at a time) there's also been the task of trying to speak with Regulus before they would have to go home before the holidays but his brother has suspiciously been surrounded by Slytherins every time Sirius draws near.

Sirius hasn't even had the time to be caught again by Ryan (Professor Cunningham, ugh Merlin), with him working so hard to be the top in his class (fueled by pettiness), he hasn't had the opportunity to do much of anything other than focus on his work, which even Minnie herself noticed and complimented him for (Ew).

But by the weekend of when they did their first prank (they did several more and haven't been caught yet, that's a record) James hasn't paid him much attention as he started to get his mind on Quidditch instead. Since this is his first year as captain, he put together an entire schedule for when he would practice and when he would make time to hang out with the rest of the marauders (his words, not Sirius's) Sirius hasn't seen much of any of the marauders either (he's always in the library next to the ever present-and aggravating-Lovegood) and Remus has taken on his role as prefect with all the benefits it can offer (Sirius has yet to see the bathroom) and he has been avoiding being around Wormtail since his entire existence makes him sick.

Now it's the second Saturday of the month and the first match is going to be between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Most of the house was excited about the game that afternoon; it was gonna be after lunch. He was never a sports fanatic (that was Regulus) but he understood and appreciated the game (to an extent), and he was hoping that with James himself being so busy preparing and practicing, with and without the team, he wouldn't notice if Sirius skipped and decided to stay in the dorms to nap and eat Moony's chocolates but James (the absolute child) decided that whining in his ear as he sat in the common room was the way to go.

The entire room was pretty much packed (he has no idea why he thought sitting down here would be peaceful) and he was able to get him a seat by one of the windows before it really started getting full and people were forced to sit on the arms of the couches or the floor. He was staring out the window contemplating if it would be possible for Gimsey to help him out when he returns from the holidays when he felt the presence of his best friend sitting across from him (the chair wasn't being used because he didn't want it to be used and no one was dumb enough to get on his bad side)

As he slides his gaze from the window to Prongs, he notices that other than his paddings, he looked dressed to play. He raises an eyebrow at that, "Not going to eat lunch before your pre-game meet up?"

"We're gonna go get something beforehand and eat together, didn't want to get distracted by everyone in the great hall." He nods at that, he would question why they felt so confident in sneaking off somewhere to get something to eat but the majority of these professors were quidditch fanatics and would let anyone who played get away with anything if it "helped" them play.

It's quiet between them and it takes Sirius a moment to realize that James is still staring at him with that expectant look on his face, "Can I help you with something, Prongs?"

"You're coming to the game, right Pads." Doesn't sound like he's asking and Sirius came prepared with a reason to not go.

"Well you see, I have some studying to do, and the perfect time to get peace and quiet is when the entire school is at the match so...yeah I can't."

Prongs let out a deep breath before leaning on one of his fists, "Yes. You can."

"James if I said I can't then I can't, plus you won't even notice me there, you'll be too busy playing."

"I'll notice."

Sirius loves James, he does, James is his best friend and after losing him once before, he doesn't want to not give him anything...but he also doesn't want to be sitting in a crowded stand with lots of screaming, enthusiastic classmates for three hours to see if Gryffindor wins or loses. Why would he put himself through that on a Saturday when he could be laying down in his comfortable bed eating the snacks that Euphemia Potter sends James.

He opens his mouth to turn James away again but before he can try the younger is moving closer to him and grabbing one of his hands, pressing it against his face, "Padfoot, I need you there because you're my lucky charm," Sirius scoffs and tries to pull his hand away but James won't let go, "I mean it, remember last year when you missed one of my last games during the finals session? I played awful." Sirius does not remember that game, his memory is foggy at best and if he tries to go over small details, he'll just come up blank.

"No, James, I do not remember missing any of your games, I'm pretty sure you dragged me out to all the games ever since first year." Sirius doesn't remember specifics but he can go back and see a tinier version of James forcing him to every match in their first year and even when he played as a backup in their second and he never got any playing time. Sirius was always there. So he deserves a break from the sport.

James is murmuring into Sirius' wrist but he can still hear him clearly as he speaks, "No, you missed a game last year because you got detention for cursing Farah Courtsbane's hair to look like rattlesnakes and almost bite her." Oh yeah, now he remembers. He hated Farah Courtsbane. She was in the same year as them but she was Hufflepuff who liked to start nasty rumors about those who got on her bad side. She had a crush on James, and she said the most awful things about the rest of the marauders because she wanted James all to herself. It didn't bother Sirius all that much, he had thick skin (thanks mom) but Wormtail was always sensitive and Remus didn't like negative attention, so the experience wasn't pleasant.

Prongs didn't like the girl much to begin with and he definitely did not tolerate slander against his friends, so he had promised to speak with the girl and get rid of her and her unwanted attention. But Sirius was feeling vindictive and he knew James could be too nice to people, no matter how rude they may be at first. So he decided to handle it himself and curse that stringy hair of hers into something more...livelier. He was cackling for weeks every time he thought back to how much she screamed and cried for the snakes to stop attacking her, she soon become dubbed, Medusa, and people would pretend not to look at her for the rest of the year. Ah, good times.

"I'm judging by the smirk on your face that now you remember what happened." Sirius can't help but chuckle and he takes the other hand that James isn't holding hostage to hold against his mouth so that he isn't laughing too loud (not possible with the overcrowded common room they're sitting in but still)

"Yeah, that was funny."

"It was until you went and got detention and missed my game. It was one of my worst, the previous captain yelled at me the whole time we were getting dressed afterward, almost didn't get the position this year if the rest of the team hadn't vouched for me," James tells him as he plays with Sirius' hand, "So I need you there, okay."

Sounds like the worst way to spend his Saturday but Prongs is giving him those puppy eyes (when did he become the dog?) and he would probably drag Sirius by the hand the entire day if he didn't yes at that moment. "Fine I'll be there, but you better win, because if you lose I will not console you." James' grin is bright and presses a quick kiss to the inside of his wrist before he's moving up and toward the door.

"I'll win just for you, Padfoot." Sirius shakes his hand at the bespectacled boy's dramatics and goes back to looking out the window, waiting for lunch as he goes back to thinking about the upcoming winter.

Sirius has eaten lunch (he waited until most of the crowd left because he hated a crowded lunch room as much as he hated a crowded common room) and now with everyone excitedly making their way to the quidditch pitch, the hallways are becoming progressively emptier. 

This is why Sirius decides to chase Remus through the corridors at this point.

"Padfoot, leave me alone!"

"Moony, I don't want to go by myself and I already promised James that I would go." They're not exactly running but they are moving quickly and weaving through the many students who are still making their way outside. Remus is moving toward the other side of campus and heading to where the greenhouses are, "And where are you even going in such a hurry?"

"I'm doing something for McGonagall and I was getting it done while nothing was happening today."

"Nothing?!-The damn game is happening today!"

"Not for me, I don't play or understand the game all that much." Remus is nonchalant in his words and they are walking inside the greenhouses now, the skinner boy heading straight for one of the potted plants that haven't sprouted yet.

Sirius decides to just watch him for a while, taking a seat on one of the stools and crossing his legs, "I don't play either and I'm going."

"That's because Prongs asked for you to go, he didn't ask me," Then he gives Sirius a look over his shoulder, "I'm not his lucky charm."

Sirius wants to gag but he settles for throwing a dirty glove at his friend instead, "Ew. Don't say that out loud, how do you even know that's what he said?"

Remus goes back to messing with the different pots and seems to be searching for a specific one as he talks, "Because he said it last year when he couldn't stop whining about you missing his game when you had detention. He said and I quote, 'Sirius is never allowed to miss another game for as long as I play.'"

Lord, that boy, "He can't control that, what if I had another detention?"

"It's James. He was gonna sweet talk whichever professor you got in trouble with and force you to that game." Ugh.

"Please just do what you need to do another time, Moony, I don't want to sit by myself with all those people around me." He whines.

"Sit with Peter, he's going, he should already be there now." Remus still isn't looking at him as he talks, so he doesn't see the cringe and look of disgust on Sirius's face. Sitting with Pettigrew was never gonna happen, that would force the other to talk to Sirius and he would rather go back to Azkaban than be forced to deal with that.

"...no thanks, you know how...riled up he can get at those games and I would rather stick with the calmer part of that crowd." Remus only hums in agreement and they sit in silence for a while, Sirius's nose twitches and he sniffs at the normally disorganized area, as much as he hates the feeling of dirt on his skin (and fur) he had to get used to it while he was on the run, that still didn't make herbology one of his favorite classes (he's still excelling at the moment though, passing his classes out of spite).

"Well sorry to break it to you, Padfoot, but I need to wait for a certain plant to bloom, and with Professor Sprout being out for the weekend, McGonagall wasn't gonna be able to have time to wait herself and get it so she asked me."

"Boo, you're so lame." He tries to find another glove to throw at him but can't seem to find one.

"Don't throw another glove at me, I will throw mud at you in retaliation," That makes him stop short and he pouts at Remus's back, "Sirius, just go to the game, you'll be fine, Gryffindor will win and James will too busy soaking up the glory to bother you after this." He's not wrong, James will be too busy at the after-party (if they win) to harass Sirius for more attention and he can just go somewhere quiet until he goes to bed.

"Fine, but I will tell James that one of his best friends wanted to do something else and not support him." It's quiet between them for a moment and then Remus is facing Sirius again with a bright grin.

"Okay, thanks for that." The absolute worst.

Sirius is already kind of running late and he can hear the commenter hyping up the cheering crowd as the game gets ready to start. He's heading down the hill when he hears the voices of some familiar people.

"Come on, why aren't you guys more excited! This is the first game of the year! Can't you feel the buzz just getting to you girls?" It's Dorcas Meadows and as he moves further along the hill and toward the pitch, he sees her talking to Mary, Marlene, and Lily. He wasn't too shocked to see them out and about, Lily's clique was social enough that they would be seen at these types of events.

Dorcas was a fan of the game with Mary being a fan of the players (if you catch his drift) and Marlene is just a good sport and enjoys herself. Lily did not care for the game, he remembers their talks of how boring they both found it when he would come to visit (much to the agony of Prongs in the background).

"Dor, relax, we're heading to the game now, no need to bounce the whole way there," Lily tells her friend with a soft smile.

"I for one don't blame her, this year's lineup is quite the treat." Mary chimes in, her chocolate hair swinging in the high ponytail that she has it in. Sirius can't help but snicker at Mary's words, during his first lifetime they a had love-hate relationship of sorts. Mary's personality was similar to his and they usually went for the same type of people to hook up with (they were both pretty easy, Sirius was just a tad bit worse) so it was always fun to bicker with her back in the day before the war started to get serious and everyone had to focus more important priorities.

His laughter must have not been as quiet as he thought it was because soon the back of Lily's red head is swinging around to face him and he gets an unimpressed look that he grins at, "Evans! Nice to see you."

Lily sighs but doesn't stop walking, and the rest of the girls look at him and give him their greetings, "Hello, Black, I'm surprised you're not already in the stands. I know how much you love stoking Potter's ego."

Sirius snorts and jogs up so that he's next to the rest of the group, he playfully bumps Marlene's hip before answering Lily, "There are plenty of other people who would stroke James off before I would," ("Is he still talking about his ego?" Dorcas asks Mary who shrugs,) "I'm just a supportive friend who has been forced to come to these games."

"Whatever you say, Black." Sirius is amused by the disinterested tone that Lily speaks in and then he turns his head to face the rest of the girls.

"So would you ladies mind if I sat with you, better to sit down than to walk around looking for a seat when all the excitement starts?" He gives his kindest and most trusting face but the mixed reactions are discouraging.

"No," Mary says blandly.

"Sure!" Dorcas says with a bright smile.

"Hmm?" Lily says with narrowed eyes, (why does she sound so suspicious?)

Honestly, if Sirius didn't know that he was the type of person to take enjoyment in the misery of others at times then he would be highly offended. He looks at Marlene and can feel happy with the warm smile she gives him before she loops her arm with his, "Of course, you can sit with us, Sirius, you're good company."

Sirius thanks Marlene before looking at the others and sticking his tongue out (mainly Mary and Lily) and looping his other arm with Dorcas and skipping to the Quidditch pitch, "That is so sweet of you, Marlene, nice to know some people can be kind." He can hear Lily grumble but the atmosphere is playful as Dorcas giggles and grabs onto the other two girls so that they can keep moving along.

"So Sirius, I've heard you've been buzzing around lately, not sticking to the side of your other half, what's that about?" Mary questions and at first he's confused about what she's asking but he supposes that she's talking about the first week that he came back.

"I mean, I just had some things change this summer and I wanted to expand on them. We're fifth years now, gotta start looking into the future." His words seem to fall off but no one around notices.

"That's good to hear, I know with O.W.L.S coming up, I've been looking into career paths more. Professor Slughorn said I have a bright future in potions." Lily tells the group.

"You're gonna be a potioneer?" Marlene asks

"Not exactly, I want to do pharmaceutical but...with magic. So I'm still trying to work out the kinks but that's my plan."

"How cute, I was just trying to get better at different types of magic and settle for marrying rich." Sirius hums and ignores Lily's annoyed expression.

The five of them talk about miscellaneous topics the rest of the way and when they finally reach their destination, it's more packed than he expected. The majority of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are there so that they can support their house, but it's also a good number of Slytherin and Ravenclaw as well, he knows from experience that the Slytherins are here to boo and there is an underground betting ring that the Ravenclaw's are in charge of.

As stuffed as it was they managed to find seats for the five of them near the area with the Hufflepuffs. He sits down with a sigh and looks around as Dorcas, who takes out her binoculars to see better, and the other three talk amongst themselves. As he's looking through the stands that's when his eyes catch sight of the future Mrs. Alice Longbottom, but for now, her last name was Warren.

Alice was always an enigma to him. When they used to be in school she had waist-length curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and a very sweet and innocent personality. She was known for being the Hufflepuff princess. It was quite the shock when Sirius saw her again after graduating and joining the Order that she dyed her hair dark and got a pixie cut. They were never close in school, she and Frank were a year older and when they were in the Order, it was mainly about the next task so that they could win the war.

Especially when that mess about the prophecy came out, the Order had to lose four of their strongest fighters because their innocent babies were being hunted down.

To see the princess turn into a hardcore Auror was always something he wanted to ask but he never got around to it. Maybe that's something he can add to his list of things he has to do now that he's been forced into the past.

"Whatcha looking at, Sirius?" Dorcas asks him, noticing he'd been staring at something.

"Alice Warren." He replies absentmindedly.

"Why? You know she's dating Frank," 

That makes Mary chime in with her own comment, throwing her head back as she exclaims, "Ugh, Frank is so hot, I love his gruff exterior."

"Again I ask why? Frank can be mean," Dorcas scrunched up her nose in confusion, "Which is weird because Alice is so nice."

"You're wouldn't understand, Dor, you're still young-"

"We're the same age."

Mary continues as if she hadn't heard her, "Frank isn't mean, he's the strong and silent type. Stoic. It's sexy."

Dorcas gives Mary a dull look, "Sure. And when he tutors our housemates, he calls them dumb because he cares."

"It's called tough love, Dorcas."

Sirius laughs at the look Dorcas gives Mary and starts to talk again, "I'm not looking at her because I like her, I just noticed that even though she's surrounded by her house, she seems lonely." And when he looks back at her, Alice does seem lonely, not talking to the people who are trying to get her attention and include her in their conversation. But she didn't seem sad either, perfectly content with wearing her boyfriend's house colors and waiting for the game to start.

"No way is the pretty puff princess lonely, look at how they worship the ground she walks on. I wish I had that much power at my command." Mary pouts and at this point, no one is paying attention to her and her rants.

"I heard she throws the best birthday parties like they're invite-only and she always has them at a new secret location since her third year," Dorcas now has binoculars on the girl in question and everyone is looking at the Hufflepuff, "She's untouchable, the rest of the puffs get aggressive when they feel she's trying to be taken away from them, I have no clue how Frank snuck his way in."

Marlene hums and looks up at the sky as she speaks, "Frank isn't that bad, he's just a hard shell kind of guy, I heard his entire family is a bit intense so he pretty much acts like that." and then she jokingly elbows Lily, who gives her friend a raised eyebrow, "You know what they say about those Quidditch players, everybody wants a taste."

Lily scoffs and crosses her arms, "Sorry not me."

"Your lost, Lils, cause I surely want to taste the entire team...well not the new seeker, she's just a little second-year baby," Mary says and blows a piece of hair out of her face, "Speaking of, when will this game even start?" As soon as the words come out of her mouth, the horn to start the game sounds off and he can see Hooch flying through the skies as all the players start to move around her, the stadium becoming ten times louder.

Dorcas squeals and starts to bounce up and down, and Sirius watches on in amusement as Marlene keeps a steady hand on the back of her jumper so that the girl doesn't get too close to the edge of their seats. "Dor, be careful."

Dorcas doesn't pay the other girl any mind as she watches the players get introduced by the commenter. Lily gives Marlene a fond look as she lays her head on her shoulder, "There's no need to worry, the stands have been spelled to keep people in, she won't fall."

Marlene nods but keeps a steady grip on Dorcas still.

Sirius looks over at Mary as the girl is mesmerized by the Gryffindor players flying out and even though he isn't a diehard fan of the game, he can say that they have an impressive lineup this year.

There's James, first year as captain and one of the three chasers. His best friend is in his element and Sirius still can't believe that he was able to come back and be with him again. As he woke up every morning he wanted to check his best friend's pulse and hope those empty eyes wouldn't be staring back at him. (He tried once, and when those sharp eyes caught him he had to play it off as trying to smother him in his sleep).

Next, there was Davy Hawthorne, he's a sixth year and a very calm and easy-going person (opposite of Frank), Davy is never in a bad mood and he's usually the one who keeps the house and team in good spirits. He's the vice-captain and also plays chaser. Davy didn't join the order when they got older, he married someone from Germany right after they graduated and sought out to be a lawyer when they were both killed one night. Frank was always quieter after that.

After Davy is Esmerelda Cabello nicknamed Esme or Es. Es is also a sixth year and she's a lot like James and Remus when they want to be all funny and sarcastic (which is when they are being mean to him) but she's a mainly good person (also one of the hottest girls in her year, he won't lie) Es went to travel the world when she graduated because she had the natural talent to do anything. Her family was darker neutral but that must have not been good enough because he remembers James telling him one day that they found her body chopped up and scattered. She's the last chaser.

Frank is the keeper, and Sirius wants to say he was close to Frank but he was always more James's friend, it wasn't like didn't get along (he enjoyed when Frank called people stupid) but it's not he knew the older boy personally, he knows about the intense family because he remembers Harry mentioning Neville and how he grew up at one point. He could try to get to know him this time around.

Donovan Burk was a fourth year and he was one of the beaters, his family hailed from Russia but he's lived in Britain since he was eight, he didn't talk much and Sirius would think the boy would have gone to Ravenclaw with how much he reads but James always told him he was shy and lots of fun to be around, (he never saw it but okay) He doesn't think he died during the war but he did get one of the Carrow cousins pregnant by his seventh year, so he had to marry into the family.

Luca Donnelley was the other beater and current fourth year as well, where Donovan was quiet, Luca was loud. And not only that, he knew how attractive he looked and used that to his advantage (he was shameless), and he wasn't too picky about who he dated, (Sirius would have dated him before but James use to have a strict rule on not touching his teammates). He also wasn't killed but he wasn't the best academically, by his sixth year he dropped out and was last heard living it up in France.

And last but not least was the newest addition at the time, Maya Yaxley. When he lived at home, his father made him go through all the necessary training that was needed of pureblood heirs (before he lost all hope in him) and Corban Yaxley never had children in his first lifetime, he was a politician who married another pureblood woman and in all the years that they were married, they had no children and then she got sick of dragon pox and died in 1980. Corban Yaxley continued to not have any children and lived his life like Lucius Malfoy, out of prison and still being a nuisance. Honestly, when James told him about Maya, he was confused because the seeker that played with James was supposed to be a dull third-year named Adam Stance.

So he searched Maya up and where the hell she came from. Yaxley's first wife still died but she died 13 years ago. His second wife, who is Maya's mother, was 17 when Yaxley was 28 and she hailed from New Zealand as a pureblood. She married Yaxley two months after the "death" of his first wife (there's no proof he killed her but the circumstances make it suspicious) and they had Maya a year later, she currently has a younger brother who is nine with another sibling on the way. Sirius knows he has to change the future but he knows he didn't create another person who wasn't there before.

After finding out about Maya and her entire life (because if she was sent to kill him, he was gonna let her have it) and being surprised that she came from Yaxley and wasn't punished for ending up in Gryffindor, he watched to see how she acts and after careful observation, she's just a second year (who James said has enough talent to go pro). So he put her out of his mind unless she became a problem later.

Sirius sighs as he watches the game start and Hooch talking to the players, he leans over to whisper in Mary's ear, "Which one do you want?"

"Esme." The girl immediately replies without looking at him.

"Es? I thought she was still dating Priscilla?"

"Nope, Es dumped Priscilla on the first day of classes." Sirius lets a gasp and looks up as Esme flies in the air and makes the first basket of the game, the crowd cheering.

"Dang that's cold, last I remember Priscilla was planning their wedding."

"Well, Esme isn't the type to stick to long-term commitments."

"...so that makes her the perfect person to date for the year?"

"Duh, me dating a hot sixth year for a couple of months, sounds like great fun."

Dorcas must have been listening to their conversation (nosey like Remus, this girl) because she squeezes' between them and points out to the crowd and says, "You're not the only one gutting for Es this year, Mare, I just saw two different signs that say 'I heart Esme!'." Mary's eyes widened and she takes Dorcas's binoculars and looks in the direction the girl pointed.

"Fucking vultures."

Sirius shakes his head and watches the game for a moment. It's halfway through the game and it's pretty neck in neck. Gryffindor is playing amazingly but Hufflepuff is not letting them have the lead. He wants to mess with Lily about who her future husband is but when he turns to look at her she's whispering and giggling with Marlene and as much as he doesn't have manners, he doesn't care enough to bother and goes back to watching James.

James cut such an impressive figure when he plays, James always looked good when he was playing Quidditch and he wondered if the war never happened, would he have tried to play professionally. Quidditch made him only made him shine brighter than he already was. When his best friend ends up scoring a goal near where they are sitting, the younger turns his head in their direction and they make eye contact. Sirius isn't able to see his face clearly since he's so far but he can see the two-fingered salute he gives before going back to the game. He was planning on waving back before he realized he was sitting next to Lily.

He looks over at the red-head girl and she's watching the game with an amused look on her face before she turns back to Marlene and says something to her, he watches the girl for a moment before he turns back to watching the rest of the game.

The game ended with an hour left and Gryffindor declared the winners (That girl is a good seeker). He stands up to stretch his stiff muscles from sitting down so long and looks at the girls, "Well it was fun hanging out with you girls, I've enjoyed your company."

Marlene gives out a soft laugh and pulls Lily up by one hand and the other back to hold Dorcas from running away, "It was fun hanging out with you as well, Sirius, you're welcome to spend time with us anytime."

Mary makes a face but he can tell it's all in good nature, "Well I wouldn't say anytime."

Lily cuts in after her, "And never bring Potter around." He nods and waves bye and heads down from the stands before he gets run over by the crowd trying to run on the field. As he's heading back up to the castle he wonders what he should do now. There's still a bit of time before dinner starts but he knows that with Gryffindor winning, most of them would just eat at the after-party later that night. Which sounds awful to him, he doesn't want to squeeze in a meal while his house is dancing and yelling. He decides to walk to the library until most of the school returns for dinner.

The quiet of the library feels like a soothing balm to his skin, in his past life, he was rarely at the library (evident by the mean looks he still gets from Pince) and he can't say studying new material is on his top list of things he wants to do but he's still lost on how to "fix" the future. Is he supposed to save certain people? Is he supposed to let some die? How does he know that some people aren't meant to die? It isn't like Deity is helping him, after his first week here he read countless books on talking to spirits of higher power and most of them were about trying to summon death. And the ones that did look helpful didn't work, she never answered. He feels like he made his entire past life up if it wasn't for the few things that keep him grounded. His scars, Harry, the whispers from the mirror, Harry, changes that weren't there before (Maya), and Harry, he can't forget Harry.

He wants to give up so badly but he thinks of his baby boy and realizes that he can't keep being weak (or at least pretend he isn't), Harry needs his parents, he needs to grow up happy and healthy with no worries about being the savior of the wizarding world. He also wishes his evil cousin hadn't killed him because he missed out on seeing if it all worked out. This could be a giant waste of his time and he's probably only making this worse.

He's tired. There's no one else in the library on a Saturday and he's sitting at a table tucked in one of the corners, he might as well take that nap James denied him earlier.

He wakes up to something poking him, it's very persistent and he tries to move away from it but it just keeps going. He blinks up blurrily and sees the disgruntled look on Madam Pince's face as she pokes him with a quill, "Mr. Black this is not the dormitories, this is a library, you would do well to treat it with respect and not sleep here."

His mouth feels like he's stuffed cotton in it but he's coherent enough to respond to her, "Um...sorry..." He covers a yawn with his hand and sits up to look around. The windows outside the library are dark and he wonders what time is it.

He must have spoken out loud because Madam Pince is huffing and holding her hands on her hip, "The time, Mr. Black is closing time, you've been here for hours and it is almost curfew." What? Oh shit.

He stands up and inches around the librarian with a sheepish look on his face, "Wow, I did not know that. Well, thanks for letting me hang around. I'll get out of your hair now, see ya next time." He leaves without waiting for her to respond but he swears that he can hear her grumble under her breath that she wishes he wouldn't come back. The hallways are deserted and he can feel his stomach trying to eat itself from the inside out. He knows he's missed dinner so he heads for the kitchens and sees if he can sweet talk the elves into giving him a sandwich.

He walks out of the kitchen thirty minutes later successful in his endeavor, not only was he able to get a sandwich but some chocolate chip pumpkin bread. He's so happy eating the food that he doesn't hear the footsteps coming from the opposite end of the hall. It's when he nearly barrels into the body that he notices who it is, "Professor Cunningham?"

The man looks almost as startled as he does when he sees Sirius and the longer he looks at Ryan the more details he can see. His cloak is rumpled, his hair is disheveled, and the red lipstick stain on his neck is barely visible.

Before he can say anything, Ryan composes himself of his shock and stares at Sirius with a happy expression, though it's obvious that it's fake, "Mr. Black, what a surprise to see you, you do know it's after curfew hours?" His voice is tight but controlled and he tries to stop staring at the man and say something.

He blinks rapidly before he looks up at his professor, "Yes, I know. I was at the library and ended up falling asleep, by the time I woke up dinner was over and I didn't want to go to bed on an empty stomach...sorry," he trails off pathetically and holding up his pumpkin bread, "I'll share if you don't take any points away."

Ryan's eyes are wide and his face is incredulous, he huffs before letting out a low chuckle, "There's no need to do that Mr. Black, how about we keep this between us and I walk you to your dormitory? I wouldn't want for you to get in any more trouble." Sirius beams at the older man and starts heading in the direction of Gryffindor tower. When they get in front of the Fat Lady, she's still wide awake and staring at Sirius with a curious look. The silence in the hall makes their breath seem loud.

"Well this is my stop, thank you for not giving me detention or taking away any points."

Ryan is giving him that searching expression that he was giving Sirius during that first time that they spoke, "Well I see no need to be too harsh on students, we've all broken the rules now and then." He almost can't look away from the dark blue eyes of his professor but he manages to tear his gaze away and gives one last goodbye before slipping into the common room. The silence from outside is gone and the many voices and loud music that fills the room are immense as the party is in full swing. Sirius can see the whole team spread out in different clusters, (except for Frank who wasn't in the room at all). When he sees James, they make eye contact and he's being waved over by the younger.

He greets anyone who says hello but he keeps his gaze on Prongs. When he reaches his best friend he can see James talking with other Gryffindors he hasn't bothered to remember before he steps away from them and closer to Sirius. James swings his arm around his shoulder and leans in to whisper in his ear, "Where have you been?"

He tilts his head slightly in the other boy's direction so that he could answer him clearly, "I went to the library to take a nap and I ended up being there longer than I thought, I just came from there."

"Your breath smells like pumpkins."

"...I stopped at the kitchen first." He said rather lamely.

He hears James chuckle before he continues, "You being at the library all the time is why you're so tired, you should stay down here and have fun, especially since you ditched me after the game was over." If Sirius was a lesser person he would smack James over the head for being so annoying. He settles for elbowing the dark-haired boy instead, the satisfying 'oof' sound makes him smirk.

"Be lucky I let you even drag me out today, don't complain about not seeing me for a few hours."

Prongs whines and buries his face in his hair, "But Siri, ever since this year started I barely see you anymore, it's like you don't want me around." That statement makes him pause and he fully turns to face James with a raised eyebrow and parted lips.

"Are you drunk?" He can't smell anything on him but this is a party in the dorms, it was probably spelled to not smell like anything. James gives him and dazed and glassy look but shakes his head with a relaxed smile.

"Nah, just a few shots here and there. I'm bored, dance with me." Prongs start to pull him without waiting for his response but Sirius digs his feet in the ground as he holds on to the other.

"I'm not in the mood to dance at the moment. Have you seen Moony?" He looks around for the werewolf but he doesn't see his sandy-haired friend anywhere.

As he's looking around he suddenly comes to halt and looks over at James with a confused expression, the other is shrewdly looking at him but before he can comment on it James has his head thrown back in a laugh and he's letting go of Sirius with a smile. The look bothered him though because he can tell that the look wasn't genuine, "You never want to play with me." The slightly dejected tone that James has makes him feel uncomfortable and moves closer to his friend.

"Don't pout, I just didn't want to dance, we can still talk."

"Yeah?"

"Duh," With that he takes James to a more secluded spot in the corner and sits on one of the couches, pulling Prongs down next to him. As he sits down, James moves to lay his head down on his lap and grabbing his hand and putting it in his hair. He giggles at the other marauder's childishness but he still indulges him, "So tell me all about the game, glad you won?"

James lets out a content sigh and buries his head further onto his lap, "Absolutely. Promise to be at each one?"

"I wouldn't miss it for nothing." He tells James as he continues to stroke his hair and ignores everyone else around them.

Chapter Text

He's been sitting on the uncomfortable stool for a long time, he doesn't know how long but he knows that when he woke that morning, she didn't let him eat breakfast. She told him to wait on the stool in the parlor and to sit properly while he waited for her show. He hasn't gotten the chance to see his father yet and he barely saw a flash of his brother's face before he was told to go wait.

His back is starting to ache and his mouth was dry and he's hungry. He tries not to move because he knows that there would be consequences if he disobeyed her. She doesn't hit them, but she says cruel things, takes away their toys, and makes them study if she felt that they needed to be punished.

He wants to sneeze but he is afraid to move, what if she takes away his lunch?

That is when he hears the click of the door and her heels clicking as she enters the room. He stays perfectly still and waits for her to stand in front of him, his eyes meeting hers as she stands facing him with an unknown look on her face. He doesn't even breathe as she looks up at him and down and he tries to think of what he did wrong this time, he hasn't caused any issues lately for her to be upset with him. But she's always upset with him so maybe he did something to anger her and he didn't realize it. He'll have to try harder next time.

She finally opens her mouth and starts to speak, "Do you know why I called you here, Sirius."

He softly shakes his head and keeps eye contact with her, she hates when he doesn't keep eye contact, "No ma'am."

"I called you here because it took me a while to discover what you have done, do you know what you did."

His breath catches in his throat and he tries to think but he can't remember. How did he mess up now? Did he anger another pureblood? Did he say the wrong words? He tries to answer with as much confidence as can muster, "...no ma'am I do not."

She doesn't say anything for a moment and she goes back to staring at him again, he does his best to keep still, scared to hear what she has to say next, "Don't look so afraid, for once in your life you have done something good," His eyes widen in shock and he keeps his mouth closed, now eager to hear more. She grabs his face in a firm grip, leaning in closer, and mumbles under her breath, "Long eyelashes, perfectly sculpted bone structure...you need to drink more water," She moves her thumb across his lips before she opens his mouth to look at his teeth and then standing up and stepping back. She starts to circle around him, hands behind her as she speaks, "It seems your mother has forgotten that you are not a hideous child, no matter how wretched you may act. You are beautiful."

He gasps and talks without thinking, "I am?" then flinches and goes back to sitting properly.

His mother ignores his transgression and he inwardly lets out a sigh of relief, "Yes. You are. You are beautiful, and even at the young age that you are now, I can tell that you will continue to grow in beauty," Sirius wants to cry, his mother has never said so many kind things to him before, in all nine years of his life, she has always disregarded him. He can feel a happy warmth spread in his chest and he sits up a little higher, hiding the smile on his face, "You see, Sirius, your brother will be handsome, but that's all he'll be, he won't be ugly but he won't grow to the standard that you would. And out of Cygnus's daughters, only Narcissa can match you. Andromeda is plain and Bellatrix is...unique. But you will be better than them," He feels good that she's saying nice things about him but he wishes it wasn't at the expense of others, still he doesn't say anything.

"And it's a good thing that you are pretty because you lack intelligence," Something in him shatters and he holds himself from jerking back in shock at her usual disappointed tone, "And your magic is average at best," He suppresses another flinch and he bites his lip to keep the tears that start to well up at bay, "So since all you have is your face, you must always nurture it, for it will be the only thing that can secure you a respectable marriage and keep you from further disappointing the family any longer, do you understand?" He gives a low nod, unable to look at her anymore but she must be in a good mood because she hasn't punished him for it.

"Good, now listen to me, you need to make sure that you keep up with yourself at all times. Your hair is curly and soft, keep it that way, it'll draw suitors near, but make sure you brush it so that it doesn't tangle. Keep your face clean and smooth. No. Marks. Ever. And as you start to get older you'll smell different just because of your age, you need to make sure that your keep clean, and never smell bad, or there will be consequences, are you listening?" He gives another sharp nod and she goes back to speaking, "Your teeth need to be white and clean, so I'll be checking that you brushed, I shouldn't have to say what will happen if you miss a day," He hears the warning in her voice and nods weakly, "That's good because that's just the start, I'll be changing up how you eat, I don't want you to gain unnecessary weight, and I will also be getting you another tutor so that you can present yourself to any respectable prospects, and no unnecessary hair on your body, that includes facial hair and..."

His mother kept talking but he was able to drown her out and retreat into his own head, struggling to keep himself calm, his chest restricting painfully and his heart beating loudly in his ears. She didn't want to compliment him, she wanted to use him. He never felt so awful. He was only worth his face, other than that, he was useless.

Sirius shakes himself from that memory and continues washing his face, as much as he hated his mother telling him what to do, he did like keeping himself presentable, going to Azkaban had been horrible on his nerves, and the feeling of being so dirty for so long never left him, even when he was in hiding at Grimmauld or even coming back to his fifth year, he felt itchy if he wasn't constantly cleaning himself, making sure he looked nice. As he's drying off his face, he moves his hands over his jaw and thinks about all the rules he broke when he left.

He was never to scar or blemish his face, getting all those tattoos and piercing felt so freeing and he can't wait to prod and ink up his skin once more. She told him no hair, but he grew a beard and a mustache after he graduated, which was more of a fuck you than an actual want, he didn't like too much hair on his body when he was in his human form (that was the main reason he shaved most of it and only kept the mustache when he got to be with Harry), he liked how soft his skin was, he might not grow any hair at all this time.

He was forced to do light exercises and stretches to make sure that he kept a healthy weight, he has happy to neglect his routine when he left his home and at first, it was exciting to be as lazy as he wanted but then he wasn't used to having so much pent up energy and that only led him do always clubbing, sightseeing, and finding new hobbies until the war took priority and he put all his energy until into fighting and going undercover. And going for a run or learning how to become flexible kept his mind occupied and he didn't have to worry about...everything else, so he didn't mind sticking to it (plus flexibility always impressed his bed partners in his past life, can't hate that).

Sirius was grateful for his appearance but he wished it wasn't the only thing that made him worthy. He sighs and shakes his head away from the self-deprecating thoughts. He makes his way out of the bathroom and looks around at the other three occupants in the room. James is laying on his bed; tossing a snitch up and down in a continuous motion, Remus was looking in his dresser for...something and Pettigrew was reading one of their upcoming charms assignments. He walks further into the room, gaining the attention of the other three, "I'm starving, everyone ready for lunch?" he gets a nod from Wormtail, Remus gives him a slight hum and James is still throwing the snitch.

Moony is looking worse for wear with the full moon almost near, Sirius feels sympathy for his friend knowing that he probably doesn't feel well at the moment, "Yes I'm ready to go, I was looking for some notes that I had on the map but I can't seem to find them."

"Oh? Anything in particular that you wanted to look over, I might have something written down." He moves over to his own stuff where he keeps most of his journals and other supplies but Remus is waving his hand before he can go too far.

"No don't worry about it, just wanted to brainstorm on how you know who exactly is on the map correctly while in use." Moony closes his drawer and yawns as they start to head out of the room for lunch. Sirius walks up next to the other and loops his arm in with the werewolf as they move.

"Well I can still help, I'm bored anyway and I need a bit of mental stamina," He says as they walk down the stairs but before they completely leave the room, he sees James dragging behind them, "Prongs stop playing with that snitch and hurry up," The other doesn't respond but he does pocket the snitch. When they get to the great hall, they sit down and Sirius notices that all of his roommates are quieter than usual, Remus makes sense but he can't understand why James is not his usual active self, "Did everyone wake up on the wrong side of the bed? What's with the silence?"

James grins at him before taking one plate and piling it with different foods and handing it to Moony and then doing the same for Wormtail before he speaks, "We can't be sleepy? We just came from History of Magic, Padfoot." He starts making a plate for himself and Sirius copies his action, picking around the different food that isn't too heavy or over-seasoned. He's used to eating light and after escaping Azkaban his stomach wasn't able to handle it regardless if he wanted it (eating Molly Weasley's food was tasty but always had consequences).

The day so far had been quiet and dull, with them being in their fifth year they spent the majority of the week in classes and when it was nearing the end of the week, they had scheduled study halls for the afternoon that was to be used to get ready for their O.W.L.S, many don't use the time to study but as free time to either hang out in the common room and play games or outside while the weather was still nice enough before winter starts to set in. Sirius had already studied earlier in the week so he wanted to set time out for getting a plan in motion for what he can do far as future changing, he hasn't made any real progress and it was starting to bother him, "Prongs."

James hums as he eats his food, "Yes sweetheart."

"Can I borrow your cloak? You know which one, the shiny one that looks better on me." He starts to play with a piece of his hair as he talks and picks at his meal.

James nods his head with a slight yawn, asking no additional questions. He doesn't usually have to worry about asking James for things, but lately, his best friend has been a bit off and Sirius doesn't want to trigger any suspicion. He knows this time James won't care though because he stayed up the previous night working on an assignment they had due today and the younger is too exhausted to care what Sirius is doing, "Thank you." He says with a satisfied grin.

"Moony what are your plans for the rest of the day?" Wormtail asks Remus, gaze concerned.

"I'll just relax in the common room, read a book, eat that big bucket of chocolates Prongs gave me, nothing too strenuous."

"Don't eat the whole thing in one sitting, Moony." James nags at Remus but the sandy-haired boy ignores him. He lets the rest of lunch calmly pass him by until he was able to split away from the rest of the Marauders, James falling back into bed, Remus searching through his draws once again and he didn't care to see what Wormtail was up to. He grabs James' cloak and wraps it around himself, disappearing before he even hit the door. As he walks out of the Gryffindor common room, he knows where he has to go to get the answers he wants. The Slytherin common room.

He looks around for any one of the snakes so that he would be able to get inside and finds luck in a group of first years heading towards the dungeons. He trails after them and tries to keep his footsteps as silent as possible, he slips into the room behind them as they say their password (their password was Salazar, it's lame how easily he could have guessed that and broke in on his own) before he starts to search around for something he can use to help him. He doesn't know what he should be looking for exactly but they do have something laying about (secrets to when Voldemort will strike perhaps).

He starts to feel agitated and wants to start pulling at his hair when he hears the sound of his brother's voice and he's talking with Rosier. As he sees his younger brother come into view, he holds his breath and moves himself off to the side, and follows them as they head into one of the dorm rooms. When they close the door behind them, Sirius sits in a corner of the room and folds himself to be small as he can, sitting as still as a statue so that he wouldn't give himself away.

Rosier stretches out and lays down on one of the beds, his body relaxed, and his brother is the opposite as he stands across from Rosier with his arms crossed and an impassive look on his face, "You know Black, I didn't believe that you had it in you at first. I knew you were willing to please the family after your brother's continued fuck ups but to already have an audience with the dark lord is impressive."

Regulus lets out a sigh as if speaking with Rosier was physically painful, and if Sirius knew his brother well, it probably was, "Please refrain from speaking on my brother, he has nothing to do with the conversation, so I wouldn't wish to be reminded about him," That remark stung a bit but Sirius didn't react, "And the dark lord has barely noticed me, I only caught his attention because of artifacts that I can give him from my home." His tone emotionless.

Artifacts? What could Voldemort want at his house? (the answer is anything, while Sirius now realizes how bad of an idea it was to let the Order throw out everything in his previous life, that didn't mean the stuff there was safely contained) Sirius puts that thought away for later and goes to listen to the conversation.

Rosier gives Regulus an appraising look that his brother hasn't bothered to notice, "Still if you continue to impress him, you would soon be one of his inner circle. I heard your cousin was a member as well as Lucius Malfoy."

Regulus tilts his head in question, "I figured Bellatrix would be but I didn't know about Malfoy, Narcissa never speaks about what he's up to."

"I doubt she would know anything, she's just supposed to be his wife, nothing further."

It's silent for a moment and Sirius can see Regulus give Rosier a narrowed stare before he lets another sigh, his posture becoming more languid, "On to the next, what's the main reason you wanted to speak with me?"

Rosier sits up as he speaks, his tone becoming serious, "There's a meeting that some of us were being called to, it's going to be in Hogsmeade later this year. There's no word on if the Dark Lord himself was going to be there but I heard that it was important enough to show your face if you wanted to prove whose side you were on, I believe that you should go...and bring Snape with you."

Regulus raises an eyebrow at the other, his face confused, "Severus? Since when was he deemed worthy to breathe the same air as everyone else, I'm shocked that he's a contender."

"Only because he has talent. Talent that even the Lord has noticed, Malfoy confirmed that Snape's expertise with potions has caught the Lord's eye and he wants to start finding a use for someone of that caliber." Regulus only nods with a faraway look and the room is silent once more, they stay like that for another moment before Regulus gets up and stretches, his movements almost cat-like before he turns and heads for the door. Sirius immediately stands up so that he can follow his brother, not wanting to be alone with Rosier.

Regulus throws a look over his shoulder to say one last thing to Rosier, but his face doesn't show anything beyond the blank mask that he always kept on, "Don't worry about speaking with Severus, I can handle that. You just let me know when the exact date of that meeting will take place and I'll see if I'm available." He doesn't wait for the other to answer before he opens the door and walks out of the room. Sirius is unsure what to do next, should he keep following his brother or does he have enough information to go off of? He wants to see if there is anything else he can do, but if it became too difficult for him he might have to bite the bullet and go to Dumbledore.

Well, that's another thought for another day, Sirius tells himself as he stops behind his brother who is looking at Snape as he passes by. Regulus moves swiftly over to the other Slytherin and steps into his frame of view, "Severus I want to ask you something." He asks quietly. Snape looks suspicious but not distrustful and he nods his head a second later, whisking past Regulus in a quick stride. Regulus is right behind him and Sirius follows them both. He tries to rack his brain for what he's about to hear next and soon they pull into an empty area devoid of any other Slytherins.

Snape looks around once before he spins back around to face Regulus, his face vaguely annoyed, "I think you would understand more than anyone else, Black, that you can't just walk up to me in such a manner, I'm being watched."

A slow smile edges up onto his brother's face before he lets out a quiet chuckle, "I wouldn't risk any harm to you, Severus, I just need to know what's going on."

"What makes you think I know anything?"

"Because I think us being in the same house has made us aware of the other's behavior, and as standoffish as you usually are, you're more secretive this year, care to share?"

Snape scoffs and looks in another direction, "I have nothing to say or hide, so if you're done wasting my time, I have some studying to do." He tries to push past Regulus, but the younger boy grabs him by the elbow, but it doesn't seem to be aggressive as Regulus gets a pinched look on his face.

"Severus, I'm not trying to cause any problems for you but there's something going on and if what I think is about to happen, happens. Then I want to be prepared to not be on the losing side."

They both stare at each other without saying a word and Sirius waits for one of them to speak up, soon Snape lets out a heavy sigh and pulls his arm away, not looking at Regulus as he says his final words and disappears around the corner that they came from, "You won't lose if you follow the right people and do what you're told." His footsteps faded after him.

Sirius watches as his brother covers his face with both of his hands, and lets out a deep breath before furiously rubbing his face, and then straightening up and putting back on that pureblood mask that he's all too familiar with. His brother walks back in the direction of the dorms and Sirius has felt that he has seen enough for today, he needs to head back to his own room and put all that he just heard into his plan. He was able to easily leave the Slytherin common room and get all the way back to Gryffindor without any problems, as he enters his room he doesn't see anyone else but James and his best friend was still soundly sleeping.

Sirius shrugs off the invisibility cloak and puts it back in Prongs' trunk. He watches James for a moment before moving some hair out of his face, then he leaves the room again. Since he's visible this time, as he walks through the common room he's greeted by various housemates of his, giving a quick nod as he exits and heads in the direction of the library but then stops himself short, the library has been becoming more crowded as of late with exams coming up and the workload being heavier all around for the entire school. He feels lost as he stands in the middle of the hallway, unsure of where to go and uncomfortable with the portraits staring at him.

He feels too jittery to study and plan and he definitely doesn't want to just stand here and do nothing, he doesn't even notice how long he stood in that same spot before he hears the voice of Sir Nicholas, "Sirius Black?"

He drags his eyes over to the ghost who is watching him in concern and Sirius is confused as to why he would be looking at him like that before starts to feel the slight sting on his head and gently unlatches his hand from his hair. His hands are shaking but he hides his reaction as he smiles over at Sir Nicholas, "Lovely to see you, good sir, haunting the floor per usual I see."

The ghost tilts his head in question but he answers Sirius regardless, "Just enjoying the beautiful scenery, one can never get enough of Hogwarts. How about you lad? Are you feeling alright, I say I was a bit worried when I found you standing here, pulling at those exquisite tresses of yours...you are doing alright?"

Sirius forces himself to stand taller and throw out one of his brightest smiles, "Of course I'm fine! I was just about to..to uh...do a prank! It's something I decided to do all on my own without the others."

Sir Nicholas seems to perk up at that, happy to hear one of the marauders up to their usual mischief, "Oh really! What fun, what is it that you have planned dear boy?"

Sirius sidesteps the ghost and heads in the opposite direction, waving goodbye, "It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you now would it?" Then leaves without another word, not waiting to hear from the nearly headless ghost. He groans at the fact that now he has to make up a prank that will stay true to his style, Nearly Headless Nick was a gossip and it would only be a matter of time before the rest of his house knew he would be pulling a prank. Not too hard, just unexpected.

Sirius has to wipe the sweat formatting on his forehead as he ties together the last knot that he needed to keep the contents of the oil held together. He decided that something quick and easy would be to let loose a bunch of it in the corridors for those who still had classes and they came out, they would either slip and fall or just be covered in it and be upset at those consequences. As he stands he shakes his hands from the feeling of tying the rope so tight. He didn't really care to do a prank and he still has to write down everything that he heard when he spied on his brother.

Not wanting to stick around he turns to walk back to the dorms and hopefully find James awake when he hears a loud squeal.

"Sirius Black! I never get to see you around anymore, you always hide that gorgeous face now, why don't you play and have fun anymore?" He snaps his head up and spots Moaning Myrtle gazing wistfully at him. (What's with him speaking to the paranormal today) Sirius is not in the mood to entertain another ghost, especially not Myrtle, she's aggravating on her best days.

"No need to worry about what I've been up to Myrtle, just trying to get better at my studies and graduate, nothing wrong with that." He says to the girl, walking down, needed to get away from his misdeed before he gets caught by a professor.

"But that's not like you at all, you're supposed to cause trouble and make jokes for everyone." She pouts at him and he looks up at her in boredom.

"I'm not a clown, I have other things to do than be a source of amusement for other people, now if you would excuse me, I have to get back to my dorm." He tries to leave the conversation at that but soon Myrtle lets out a gasp and glides over to where he finished setting up the oil bag and curiously inspects them.

"Ohhh, so you are still causing trouble, you just didn't want to tell me. That's mean, Sirius, I can keep a secret." She starts to whine and cry and as it's becoming louder she gathers the attention of some of the portraits on the walls. He hears some of them question why Myrtle is upset now but he decides to make a quick exit before attention is on him.

"Annoying girl, stop all that noise, or I'll tell Dumbly!" Sirius watches Peeves berate Myrtle as her crying gets louder, she can barely make out her words and he's stayed long enough, and her next words make him move quicker.

"Sirius was mean to me! He doesn't trust me! He did it!" The sounds of student voices and feet coming out to make the hallway loud and unclear and he turns the corner just as he as the screams of the underclassmen reach his ears.

He takes the stairs two steps at a time and slams the door behind him, he hadn't seen any others downstairs and the room seems to be deserted. He flops onto his bed and lets out a deep breath. He shuts his eyes for a moment but then he hears the door to the bathroom open and slowly opens them back up and sees James walking out, steam cascading behind him as he uses a towel to dry his hair, he's got on sweatpants riding comfortably on his hips and a plain white tee, he looks up and makes eye contact with Sirius but he's squinting because he's not wearing his glasses, "Sirius?"

"James." He responds, he doesn't move from his spot and James doesn't say much else before climbing in the bed with him and laying down on him, "Ugh, Prongs, you're heavy as fuck, get off."

James snickers and pushes his face further into his neck, "You're all soft and comfortable, I'm too relaxed to move." Sirius can only huff in amusement, "Whatcha been up today, Padfoot?" 

Sirius bites the inside of his cheek and thinks about telling James somewhat of the truth, no matter if Sirius is getting a second chance, it's already too late to stop the war, and James should be prepared to know something (It might help him live longer).

"Umm, I just skipped around as Padfoot and stretched my legs." He can lie to him for now, no harm done.

"Aww, and you couldn't wake me up for that, I got to give Prongs some leg room before it gets too cold and we're restricted to being inside." Sirius doesn't respond but James doesn't sound like he cares all that much so he just lays there calmly.

He can feel himself falling asleep, the day's events catching up to him when he hears the door to their dorm room up and familiar footsteps walking in, he sleepily opens his eyes as he sees Moony stand by his bed with a raised eyebrow looking down at him, "Wha?"

"McGonagall sent me a message that you need to meet with her in her office and she didn't sound pleased. What did you do?" Sirius gaps at Remus and he feels James move his head so that he's also looking at him. That damn snitch Myrtle.

"Okay I wasn't planning on doing anything but that half-headless ghost Nicholas wouldn't stop bothering me, so I told him that I was pulling a prank, and you know he's a gossip amongst the ghost so I had to hold up my end of the bargain and oil the corridors before class let out for the younger years. But Myrtle that darling annoying girl, couldn't comprehend that I wouldn't tell her what I was up to and started to cry, which made everything else in the halls aware and suspicious, so I skipped out of there right before everything let loose and I shouldn't be in trouble but I trust none of them to keep a secret if they knew it was me, so...yeah."

Both James and Remus stare at him for a moment before identical grins spread across their faces and James starts to laugh, Remus shakes his head before he speaks, "Pads you always surprise me, that is brilliant."

"Incredibly brilliant." James agrees, and Sirius can't help but smile at their joy.

"Really? I just needed to do something quickly because Sir Nicholas wouldn't leave me alone and I had to make up something quick so that I could get him off my back, that's when Myrtle came by and started whining about how I was keeping secrets and didn't want to tell her what I was planning, so she kept getting louder." He explains, nodding his head along with his story.

Prongs and Moony still have lingering smiles on their faces when he finishes speaking and before Sirius can settle back down on his bed and get comfortable on his bed again, Remus pins him with that annoying prefect look, "What now?"

"You still have to go see McGonagall, Sirius."

"Boo you, Moony." He pouts at the werewolf before he feels a pinch on his thigh and turns his glare on to the other marauder in the room, "And what the hell is your problem?"

James gives him an irritated expression when he replies, "You went and got caught when we were almost halfway through the year without getting in trouble."

He flicks James on the forehead as he stands up and ignores his cry of agitation, he drags his feet towards the door as he heads off to face Minnie.

"Stop laughing at me, or I'll turn this damn thing off and I won't speak to you for the rest of the night," Sirius says to the mirror that sits on the side of him as he scrubs the ground of the oil that was previously set off by him. Minnie was displeased by his "shenanigans", as she put it, and made him clean up his own mess without the use of magic (Which Filch was giddy to hear when he gave him the supplies to clean up).

When he came back from his sentencing, James made sure to tell him that he needed to bring his half of the two-way mirror (which he didn't know was packed in his trunk, thanks Gimsey) and once dinner was finished and everyone went back to their dorms, he's been in the corridor for the past hour and all he was given was a bucket with soap and water and an old rag. He did not realize how hard it was to clean up oil.

While James just sat by himself in the common room watching him through the mirror and making snarky comments because he thought he was so funny. Prongs who had been howling just a moment ago when soap got in his eye has now settled down to a quiet snicker, "Don't be upset with me, Padfoot, I'm just trying to keep your spirits up."

"By laughing at me?" He asks as he dips the rag back into the bucket.

"Yes," James replies without hesitation.

Sirius doesn't even respond to the hazel-eyed stag and goes back to cleaning the floor, there's a peaceful lull between them while he cleans and listens to James tap on the chair he's sitting in, he looks up at the other and he sees James looking off to the side with a blank face, "Prongs?"

The tapping stops and James snaps his attention back to him, "Yeah?"

"Something the matter?"

James opens his mouth before looking down and holding back from what he wants to say, "It's nothing, Padfoot, don't worry about it."

He tilts his head at the other, "Since when can't you tell me something?"

That's when James turns toward him again and he has that look on his face that Sirius has been seeing frequently since he came back, "That's rich coming from you. Seeing as you've been doing nothing but keep secrets from me lately."

Sirius is taken aback by the shift of conversation, "What did I do now?"

James gets a scrunched up look on his before he shakes his head, "It's nothing, I don't want to get into an argument, we're good."

"Obviously not, look I'm not trying to argue with you James but if something is wrong I want us to work through it."

They sit there in silence before James gives him a resigned look, "Why did you lie to me earlier?"

He's confused as he replies, "When did I lie?"

"Today, when you told me that you went out as Padfoot, but what you really did was go and pull a prank, I know I've been a bit...much to you lately but I don't know why you're hiding things from me, especially with something insignificant. You keep telling me you trust me but it doesn't feel like it. If you have your own secrets to keep I can understand that but it feels like you're pushing me away." James' voice is soft as speaks and Sirius feels choked up by the confession. The last thing he wants to do is lose James again.

"I went after Regulus today." He quietly admits.

James blinks at him in surprise, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I took your cloak, and snuck down to the dungeons to see what my brother is up to," He picks at his shirt as he tells James what he did, "This past summer he's been distant, more than usual and I noticed that with Voldemort on the rise, my family has been acting differently, so I just wanted to get information on what it could be so I don't have to be shocked when something bad happens." He doesn't remember what happened the summer before his fifth year and doubts his past self cared about what the rest of the family was up to. But telling James somewhat of the truth has to be done.

James is nodding along to everything he says and then a small smile graces his face, "Padfoot," His voice is so delicate as he talks, "I should have put that together faster, of course, the war is affecting your life. My parents don't like to talk about that stuff and I don't like telling them things that would make them upset, it doesn't make them feel good. So I guess I got used to ignoring what's starting to happen. Sirius, you don't have to hide these things from me."

"I know, Prongs, I just didn't want a make a big deal out of some of the shit going on, I just need to figure some stuff out first. But I'll always be there."

"So will I."

"I hope so." He whispers to himself.

"What did you say?" James asks.

He looks up to the other and shakes his head, going back to cleaning the floor, "Nothing, just that I can't wait to go to bed."

"I'll keep you up until you get back, tomorrow we can hang out and get ready for the next Hogsmeade trip, the holidays are coming up and I haven't bought a thing yet. But I know what I'm getting you, so don't ask. What are you getting me?" He smirks and shakes his head as washes the floor, "Aww Sirius, be nice." He lets James talk as he finishes his punishment and they don't go back to talking about the previous conversation, content to listen to each other.

Chapter Text

Sirius stares up at the Christmas tree as it is decorated by the professors. He wants to agree when people say this is the happiest time of the year but he can only feel dread consume him as he gets closer to being back home with his parents. The great hall shines with all of the decorations and he can see out of the corner of his eye people milling happily about. Today was going to be a Hogsmeade day and most of the student population was excited to shop and experience the festivities coming up. Sirius was being frugal and he hadn't wanted to spend his money but he'd feel bad if he didn't get James or Remus anything.

He sighs and leaves the hall, heading toward the library when he sees his brother walking down the corridor, presumably to the dungeons. He tries to speed up without alerting Regulus and calls out his name when he doesn't see anyone else in the hall. When he hears his name, his brother spins around but immediately makes a sour face and continues with his original route.

"Regulus!" He huffs as he jogs up to his brother's side, (and when did he get so tall? It's not like he's short but Regulus grew, huh)

"Leave me alone, Sirius." His brother replies, walking slightly faster in an effort to get away.

Sirius rolls his eyes, "You haven't even heard what I had to say yet."

"Nothing you say is worthwhile, so don't waste my time." Wow, that stung but Sirius knew this wouldn't be the most straightforward task, so he does not lose hope. He moves quickly and grips his brother's arm shoving him into an empty classroom. Regulus is hissing at him but he lets go of the other before he becomes too aggravated.

"Are you insane!" Regulus snaps at him, Sirius casts a few quick spells so that no one hears what is going on or tries to come into the room. When he finishes, he takes a deep breath and gives his brother a searching look.

Sirius' smile is weak and he's nervous as he speaks to his brother, "You look good, honey."

Regulus' face is stony, tilting his head in a mocking expression, "Thank you for that, love, can you explain to me why you've been harassing me since we got back to school," Sirius opens his mouth to argue back but his brother cuts him off before he could, "And don't say you haven't Sirius because you have. I'm not dumb, all I hear is that my brother has started to lose his mind and that he's been following me around campus."

Sirius pouts at his brother and looks away for a moment, "Well you've been running away from me, you never stop so that I can talk to you."

"And whose fault is that? You made it perfectly clear when I became a Slytherin that we were no longer brothers, or was I supposed to just guess from your attitude that what I did was wrong?" Regulus is giving him a bitter look, his words coming out more clipped as he speaks.

Sirius is stunned for a second and he tries his best to find the right words to say next. He knows he didn't do right by his brother and he won't lie and say that he feels completely wrong for what he did in the past, the Slytherins of his time were some of the worst to be around and he was angry for his brother being involved, but he doesn't want to regret not saving him this time, he died too young.

He bites his tongue for the insults he wants to say about who Regulus is hanging around but that won't win him any points, "Look, I can't say for certain that I agree with who you like to be around but I have realized that I shouldn't have cut you off in the way I did," He takes a step closer, trying to show in his body language how sorry he is, "Regulus, I'm worried about you, and I'm worried about me and I don't want nothing bad to happen to you because you're my brother. Even though I may have been a shit brother I care about you."

Regulus looks at him before shaking his head, "So what?"

Sirius exasperated a sigh, throwing his hands in the air, "So?! Can we start over, please , I'm telling you that I am sorry for all the things that I have done and for not being there for you," He takes his brother's hand in his, "All I want is for us to be okay again."

Regulus is quiet and Sirius believes he's getting through to his brother, but then Regulus shakes off his hand and turns away, face closed off, "Well now I get to be the person to tell you that you aren't getting what you want. Don't bother me again, especially when we go back home." And that is the last that Sirius sees of his brother.

Sirius wasn't super confident in the outcome but he feels worse than he imagined. He doesn't want to be around anyone so he heads for the library as it has been a source of comfort for him since he's been back at Hogwarts. As he makes his way inside the library he still gets a dirty look from Pince but she doesn't say anything anymore. He picks up a random herbology book and sees Xenophilius sitting at the back table they occupy most days. He plops down with a huge sigh and starts flipping through the book.

Xenophilius spares a glance before going back to whatever he was working on, "Are you going to be loud today?" His tone is curious.

"I don't feel like talking about it."

"I wasn't planning on asking, I just wanted to know if I should move to another table to finish my essay." Hearing that makes him groan again and his head drops onto the table with a soft thump.

"Am I a bad person?" He asks

"...do you want me to answer that question? Or should I move to another table?" The quill is still scratching but doesn't sound as quickly as before. Sirius reframes from hexing the blonde and gently tugs at his hair.

"I want you to answer the damn question."

"I think you shouldn't measure yourself on a scale of good and bad. Being a good person could have different meanings to different people, just as much as being a bad person. I've seen you around since I started Hogwarts but this is the first year you've spoken to me. There might have been, sometimes, when I didn't understand you but... I don't know, what do you think about yourself?"

Sirius thinks over his words and tries to come up with an answer, "I think that it's too late for me to try to be a better person when I was never good enough." After he says that he doesn't wait for Xenophilius to say something and stands up to leave.

Sirius is lying down in his bed, having come straight there after his already miserable morning and buried himself under the covers, he even changed into Padfoot because it always brought comfort to be his animal counterpart.

He hears the movement of his roommates and realizes that they must be back from breakfast. He hadn't been in the mood to go.

"Sirius? Are you feeling okay?" The voice of Wormtail does not make him feel better at his earlier disappointment in speaking with his brother, however, he isn't as angry as he usually would be. He just feels nothing, not even tearing into the mousy boy serves to make him move.

His curtains get pushed back slightly and he sees James peering over at him, "Hey, Padfoot, wanna talk?" James is being kind, he hasn't been as pushy with making Sirius tell him things after he admitted to spying on his brother. If Sirius told him no, he would leave.

But he doesn't want him to, so he shuffles over to make room for his best friend, who slides into the bed and pets his fur, waiting for Sirius to make the next move. He enjoys the quiet between them for a moment longer before returning to his human form and wrapping his blankets tight around himself, "James, I'm a bad person."

"No, you're not." Prongs immediately denies it.

Sirius scoffs at the hazel-eyed boy, "Yes I am, I'm super petty and will leave people in the dust if I feel that they have wronged me in some way, and then if I go back to think about it, it's too late and I can't fix it."

"Sirius, where is this suddenly coming from? I know you've been feeling down lately but now you're a bad person? I think that you know what bad people look like and you work hard to not be like that." James tells him firmly.

He makes eye contact with his friend before sinking back into the bed, "I got to speak with Regulus today."

Prongs looks contemplative before he speaks, "And I'm guessing it didn't turn out how you wanted," Sirius can only shake his head, "Did he say something that hurt your feelings?"

"He didn't say anything that wasn't true, I left him to deal with our parents and Slytherin by himself and I couldn't be bothered to see that he didn't choose it any more than I did, that makes me a bad person and brother overall."

"Sirius you were a kid, we all acted a certain way when we were kids, you're pushing yourself too hard." He opens his mouth to retaliate but James shakes his head and goes to get out of bed, "You're sad and you won't see sense. The best solution is to think about this for later when the wounds aren't so fresh, come on and get up and we can hang out and not talk about this for now. Today is Hogsmeade, I'll spoil you a bit and buy you whatever you want." He says with a dismissive tone and leaves the room without another word and Sirius has never so badly wanted to throw something at the younger marauder.

He slowly brings himself out of his bed, dragging a hand down his face with a groan. When his vision focuses he sees Remus looking at him with an inquisitive expression, "What?"

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Nope." He says popping the 'p', he stretches and hums with satisfaction when he hears a pop in his shoulder.

"I won't push but remember what I said on the train, whenever you're ready, I'm here." Sirius smiles at Remus and nods slightly before he goes into the bathroom to get dressed.

Sirius sits down in the common room and watches James have a conversation with one of his teammates before they leave for Hogsmeade. He's gone to make himself as unapproachable as best as he can and after spending so long of the semester being reclusive, no one outside of his immediate circle bothers him.

Sadly his immediate circle includes Wormtail. Since he hasn't found out how to get rid of the rat, his next best option is to ignore his entire existence. The chubby boy sits down nervously across from him and he spares a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Are you excited for Hogsmeade, Sirius?"

He lets out a sigh and goes back to looking out the window, watching the snow fall, "I guess." They both sit in silence and he can feel Wormtail trying to work up the nerve to say something but luckily he's saved by Dorcas.

"Sirius~" She slides next to him with a bright smile, he gives her a small one in return but doesn't move from his spot. "Why the long face pal? It's Hogsmeade day, you should be happy to get out of this stuffy castle."

"I'm fine, Dorcas, just don't look forward to going home." Dorcas falters for a moment before she pulls him to stand up and over to where the rest of the other girls are, "What are you doing?" He asks

"You're down and I don't like being around people who look sad. So you can hang with us for the day, that should cheer you up!" Before flinging him next to Evans, who seems just as surprised to be suddenly sitting next to him as he is.

"Dorcas, what is this?" Mary questions with a dull tone.

The girl in question beams at the rest of her friends as she explains, "Sirius will be with us today, while we go to Hogsmeade!" She says cheerfully. The statement turns a few heads around them in the loud common room, but he only pays attention to the girls in front of him. Evans has a suspicious look on her face, Mary looks as if she ate something sour, but Marlene being the angel that she always has been just nods softly with a smile.

"Sure no problem, glad to have you, Sirius." Her kindness only makes his face burn, embarrassed at seeming like a social pariah. This was never an issue to him before but he made it look distinguished if he was alone. Before he can say a word, the familiar voice of James Potter is heard.

"Aww McKinnon, you're an actual dream for being so kind as usual but no need to worry about Sirius today, I can take care of him.” The hazel-eyed boy says before he takes the seat on the other side of Sirius, leaving him between the future Mr. and Mrs. Potter. 

Lily sighs and slides away from Sirius, which he feels slightly offended by, he didn’t ask to sit next to her, “See Dorcas, Potter is perfectly fine taking care of Black, no need for any of us to change up our plans.” Dorcas lets out a small whine and Mary pats her shoulder.

That’s when he gets an idea as he looks at Lily out of the corner of his eye and avoids James’s gaze, “Actually I think we should all hang out together as a group, it might be fun.” That brings Dorcas's cheerful demeanor back and Sirius smiles at her before glancing at Lily who has a suspicious look on her face when he finally brings himself to look at James, who surprises him by wearing the matching expression that Lily has.

He reaches a hand out and pushes a piece of James’ hair behind his ear, “I think it sounds fun, don’t you think so James?” The younger hums and studies his face as if looking for something but he chooses not to think about it, James is just being his usual self, he pats the other cheek before turning around to the girls again, “No worries Evans, I do not need to cause problems today, too much shopping to get done.”

He stands up abruptly and watches as both Lily's and James's eyes follow him, holding back a smirk at how in sync they are. They will both thank him for this in a few years when they’re married and Harry is on his way. What's the harm in getting them interested in each other early on?

He winks at the two and tells James that he has to get something out of their dorm, rushing off before the other can answer. As he re-enters the dorm, he goes toward his trunk, pulling out a small bag that he’s been keeping his money in and a notebook, flipping to the last page he wrote in, noting down the conversation with Regulus and the progress over getting James and Lily in the same space. Then he shoves the journal into the bag and walks back downstairs.

Sirius knew that he was only going to make people suspicious again but the hurt that he felt from talking to his brother is pushed down at the thought of going back to Hogsmeade and seeing Lily and James together. Sure they aren’t in love yet but them getting along early on means that Harry's birth is secure, and that is something he won’t mess up on.

He steps into the common room, seeing that some people have started to leave for Hogsmeade and he walks back over to his group. Lily and James are still sitting next to each other and by the looks of it, his friend is flirting with the girl as usual but this time Evans doesn’t seem as put off with the bespectacled male and he hides a smile as he walks up to Remus.

“Aren’t they cute?” The lanky male jumps at the sound of his voice and glares at Sirius suddenly standing next to him.

“Weren’t you upset about something?”

He shrugs, “I’ve decided to bury that. That’s a problem for a Sirius of a later time, right now I need to enjoy the holiday with my friends.”

“And seeing James and Lily make you happy?” He blinks at the question and fully faces his friend, why wouldn’t he be happy? James and Lily are an epic love just waiting to happen and they’ll have a kid who is so wonderful, he can’t wait to hold again.

“Yes? Why wouldn’t it?” He asks slowly.

Remus blinks at him and then tilts his head in confusion, “Never mind, Sirius. Don’t worry that sweet dumb head about it.”

He scowls at the werewolf, “Who are you calling dumb? My grades have been better than yours this semester.”

Remus waves him off, “I’ve had priorities this semester.”

“Oh, whatever, according to the entire school, I have lost my mind and looked like a damn fool. So if I’m on that level of ridiculousness and can still kick ass at getting high grades then your ‘priorities’ are shit.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Don’t have to, I know you well enough to play it by ear.” Remus doesn’t respond, only letting out an amused huff.

“Love the laughter. Care to let me in on the joke?” James tells them as he sits on the arm of his chair. When Sirius looks over at his best friend, he has a relaxed look at him. Seems like pushing him with Lily early is working.

“It’s nothing, Remus just realized how brilliant I am.”

James nods along before standing up and pointing his head over to the group of girls walking out of the common room, “C’mon let’s head out, Hogsmeade awaits. Wormtail let's go.” He calls for the worm not to sit too far from them and turns around, humming on his way out of the common room.

He hip-checks Remus and gives him a smug look, “See how happy he is? I should have started interfering ages ago if I knew it would speed up progress for James.” He whispers to his friend.

“Yes Sirius, James will be glad that you started to interfere,” Mooney replies sarcastically. Sirius decides to ignore it because he feels good that something is going his way for once.

Their group moves through Hogsmeade joking around and having casual conversations. It honestly surprises Sirius this is going well, he talked a big game before but he knew it would only be a matter of time before James and Lily got into an argument and the groups went their separate ways. Lily and James had plenty of silly arguments even when they were married. It’s like it was in both their nature to not lose a disagreement.

Currently, he’s at the back of the group with the future Mr. and Mrs. toward the front, with everyone talking amongst themselves in the middle. He’s walking slowly so that he can carefully browse through the stores for what he wants for James and Regulus. 

He’s looking for James because he’s the only friend who hasn’t got anything yet, he wants it to be perfect than what he got him in the previous timeline, which was a signed jersey from one of his favorite Quidditch players. It wasn’t until they were out of school that Sirius found out that James had met that same player the previous summer because of the friends and connections he had. And spending the summer with someone and getting personalized gear pales after that. James never made him feel bad for it, he loved the jersey actually but Sirius still wants better for him.

And Regulus…well he wants to get his brother something because the Sirius of before also put no thought into what he used to get his family. He hated them so bad it might as well have been that he got them nothing, but he was still pureblood raised first-son, propriety wouldn’t let him be openly terrible while he was still living with them. It only made him look bad.

Starting to get frustrated at the lack of options, he stops in front of a store that sells magical artifacts. Physical objects of magic never interested him, but he does remember Regulus starting a collection before he passed. Not thinking too much about it, he goes into the store without looking at the group, hoping to find something that would impress his younger sibling.

When he walks in he observes his surroundings, noting how plain the entire establishment seemed. He lets out a sigh, glancing over the knickknacks you would find at a muggle thrift shop, “Well this was a bust.”

Before he can turn around a leave the store a voice calls out to him, “Hello there young man. Genuine inquiry?” Sirius turns back around to see a short man with shaggy grey hair and an olive complexion.

“Yes, I need a present for a family member. Haven’t found anything yet.” The shop owner looks him up and down before gesturing to everything in the store.

“If ya need a quick present, everything on the floor should be good for ya.” Sirius scowls and looks around at the displays again before looking back at the older man.

“And if I had a genuine inquiry? Would everything on the floor still be all you had to offer?” He’s never been in this store before and is curious how he hasn’t noticed it before but any magical shop worth its galleon wouldn’t be complete crap, there aren’t enough in Britain for that kind of nonsense.

“Well, that depends, how much could you offer?”

“Money?” He says blandly.

“Power. I only show genuine inquiries to those who can handle it, and not to insult a charming thing like yourself but your magic seems delicate.” After stating that the owner moves over to a shelf, dismissing him.

Sirius growls softly and walks over to the man in purposeful strides, “I don’t know where you get off calling me delicate but your eyes must be whacked if you think my magic is weak.”

“Never called you weak, darling, called you delicate, there’s a difference.”

“Enlighten me.” He asks dryly.

“Your magic doesn’t seem to pulsate, consume me, make me fear for my life at the snap of your fingers,” Sirius is one second away from leaving the store and going to buy his brother an expensive sweater when the man continues, “Now that doesn’t make you weak, that just means your magic simmers more, a different kind of danger. You could sneak me and kill me...possibly.” That last statement seems to be an out loud thought for the strange older man but he still responds to it.

“Is that what you want? You want me to sneak you with my magic and kill you?” He tells the man with a raised eyebrow.

“For a Christmas present? What are you insane?” He replies with a strange expression and Sirius tries not to groan out loud, already frustrated with the crazy old man.

“ You’re the one who called my magic delicate, I didn’t know if you wanted me to prove something.” He says as he throws his hands in the air in exasperation, “Do you even have anything worth of genuine inquiry!?”

“How rude!” 

“ I’m rude-”

“Sirius.” A voice behind stops their argument and looks to see who it is.

“James! My love!” He bounces over to his best friend holds his face in his hands and squishes, “How did you find me?”

James tilts his head, jaw-setting, staring him down, before sighing the frustration bleeding out of him, “Why did you run off, Sirius?” Prongs asks him, sounding bored instead of angry like Sirius expected him to be.

Sirius keeps squishing his face, avoiding the other’s eyes, “Not for anything weird…plus you told me that you would stop trying to keep me on a leash.” Sirius realized that this James was starting to have a growing obsession with always having him near, which wasn’t a problem with him, he would happily bask in all the attention but for him to sneak around to somehow change the timeline, a guard was a hindrance. His best friend was understanding of the request for space but Sirius knew James, he didn’t agree to it fully.

Prongs shrugs in an uncaring manner, “I did say that but I thought we were speaking as if were an inside joke between us.” He says as he glances over at the man behind him. Sirius chuckles before letting James go and turning back to the shop owner, who watches them with rapt interest.

He goes to continue his conversation with the owner but is cut off by the man himself, “Now this young man here. His magic can do it.”

“Do what?” He asks in bemusement.

“ Consume . Suffocate you with just his presence, I would question why it doesn’t bother you, but I suppose if he is your lover-”

Sirius barks a laugh before looping James’ arm with his own, “Oh he isn’t my lover, he’s just my best friend.”

The man stares at them blankly for a moment before nodding his head, “Alright.”

Sirius moves forward and crosses his arms, “Back to our discussion. Do you have anything that would interest me or am I wasting my time here?”

“Everything I sell can be worth something should you have the right eye for it,” Sirius rolls his eyes but listens to the man, “And for your information I was planning on showing you something that would gather your interest but then this one came in like some storm cloud.”

Not wanting to go back and forth with the shopkeeper, he agrees and watches the man disappear quickly around one of the shelves, before Sirius can follow him James pulls on the arm they’re sharing and leans in to whisper to him.

“Padfoot, why are you in this place arguing with this old man?”

“I’m shopping for Christmas presents, Jamie.” he tries to go after the old man again but is still held firm by James.

“Who are you shopping for here?” He asks him with a strange expression as he looks around the store.

“Regulus.” He replies nonchalantly and doesn’t change his face when Prongs’ gaze snaps back to him.

“Regulus?”

“Yep. Regulus.” He says as he waits for what James will say next.

“Okay.” Sirius waits to see if the younger plans on adding anything else but he stays silent and looks at him with an expectant look. Not wanting to linger any longer, he finally goes after the old shopkeep with James in tow. When the man sees them round the corner, Sirius sees him standing there with an unimpressed look on his face, he responds with a smile but the man’s face stays the same.

“I know you two lovebirds are young and all but I am running a business.”

Ignoring the comment about the lovebirds, Sirius rolls his eyes, “And so far nothing you have shown is worth my time so the sass is unwarranted.” The old man doesn’t respond, just looks around the store before moving toward one of the shelves and pushing it aside to show a door behind it.

“Anything behind this door is for my customers who prove that they aren’t looking for any old trinkets. I don’t know exactly what you’re looking for but I can guarantee that I would have something of interest.” Sirius nods and watches as the old man pushes the door and motions for him and James to go in.

He tugs on Prong's hand and moves into the secret room of the shop. What he sees on the other side amazes him, the space is larger and more colorful with darker shades. All of the items he sees range from, armor, clothing, and magical tools.

“You’re an underground dealer.” He hears James state behind him with an intrigued tone. Sirius himself is greatly impressed by what he sees, understanding how the storefront was just used as a ruse and whatever the man sold here is where he made his real business.

“That I am, young man. Anyone who comes to me with genuine inquiry is allowed to browse.” Sirius lets go of James and starts looking over the man’s collection, wondering what would fit his brother best. He hears the man start a quiet conversation with James but he doesn’t pay it too much mind.

He tries to remember what kind of things Regulus likes to do but other than the basics he comes up blank. Guess he was a shit brother after all. He's biting on his bottom lip to try to keep his frustration down but after a while he feels that he might have hit another wall. It isn’t until he starts to gently tug at his hair that his eyes land on a pair of brown leather gloves.

He walks over to them slowly and gently brushes the fabric. They looked worn but not in a way that wasn’t sophisticated for a pureblood wizard, he could feel the magic of them; old and powerful just like everything else in the secret room but something told him this was the gift for his brother.

“Do you like those gloves? Got those from a dig in Egpyt and I met up with a fellow associate to explain their properties. Apparently, they can dull other magical objects and siphon for itself, even cursed objects.” He liked the gloves they weren’t too stocky or gaudy and seemed like they could be worn with regular use. Plus it went well with that posh fashion sense that his brother had.

“Then I’ll take 'em.” He tells the old man with a nod, the shopkeep goes to grab the gloves and all of them move back in front of the store.

“Here ya go, darling. Hope you’re satisfied with your purchase.”

“Oh I’m pretty satisfied but hopefully the stubborn monster I’m giving it to will.” He says the old man before grabbing the bag in one hand and taking James’s hand back in his other one and leaves the store, not waiting for a response.

As they step out into the winter air, Sirius takes a deep breath, feeling some weight fall off of him now that he’s gotten Regulus a gift. He just has to deal with trying to get James a present with the annoying pair of antlers hounding him.

“I appreciate you looking for me, Prongs, but I didn’t need to be chased down. What about Lily and everyone else?”

“Evans is fine, she’s got her gang of badgers right by her side, and Moony and Wormtail understand your need to run off lately,” James tells him as he unlinks their hands to maneuver for him to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

“I'm surprised you would say that after finally getting Lily’s attention. You know I’m crazy, no need to chase after me.” He hip-checks Prongs who lets out a chuckle and pulls him closer.

“If you’re crazy then I’m completely mental, Siri.”

“No way, you are the arrogant golden boy and I’m the crazy hot bitch. It's how we work.” He states which throws James into another fit of laughter however before the younger respond Sirius sees something out of the corner of his eye which makes him stop short.

“What’s wrong Pads?”

Sirius shushes James and softly walks over to the corner of the building where he believes he saw his brother. He’s correct in his assumption as he peeks over to look, Regulus leaning against one of the buildings, looking up at the sky with his hands in his pockets. Barty Crouch Jr. is leaning on his brother but he’s looking at Evan Rosier and Antonin Dolovhov as they speak to his brother in whispers.

He leans back and feels James against his back, “I can’t hear them, but be on the lookout if any other Slytherins pop up.” James doesn’t say anything but he taps his hip twice and Sirius knows he heard him.

Watching his brother only makes him aggravated at how deep he already is with the future death eaters and Voldemort. That’s okay he’s not off course just yet, he knew Regulus got involved with them early on but he thinks maybe he can still be swayed. Everything is still fine.

He’s so in his head, that he doesn’t notice that they’re finished with their conversation, and walking back out, gasping in shock he grabs ahold of Prongs and hisses, “They’re coming.” He spins to find a hiding spot but both he and James are pretty much out in the open and there isn’t too much time to look for another spot.

James wraps his arms around him and then waves his wand around them in a swift motion, “ Conjunctivitis ,” He murmurs and pushes them against the wall that they are leaning on. Regulus and the rest of the Slytherins with him walk by unaware of the two of them

When they’re in the clear James lets go and says the counter spell, when they look at each other Sirius smiles and pinches the younger’s cheek, causing him to scowl, “Well wasn’t that a nifty little trick, I adore your quick thinking, Prongs.”

James’ face settles into a smirk, “What else do you adore about me?” He says smoothly.

Sirius goes into a thinking position, pursing his lips, “Hmmm, well other than your overall intelligence and attractiveness I would say that I adore…” He pauses and walks close to Prongs, getting right in his ear to whisper the last part, “How arrogant you are.” He hops back to look at his face and is pleased to see the annoyance on James' face but still retains amusement overall.

“Wow, Padfoot, way to ruin the game.”

“If anything I give you the best of both worlds, I praise you and humble you. Think of jt as being a young Greek God in training, you must know how to have balance.” He says as he goes to double-check that he still has all of his items with him.

“I guess I can live with the knowledge of being a Greek God.”

“In training. ”

Prongs waves him off before getting an arm around him again, “Regardless I am being compared to a God now, so just imagine when we’re out of Hogwarts and get to be adults with careers and more adventure in our lives. I would reach my full godly potential."

Sirius thinks back to the war during his first life and how James never got to live past twenty-one. How he was arrested and forced into prison without a trial, losing so much time with his godchild and after finally escaping, never getting to live past the horrible walls of his childhood and then being killed by his cousin. Hell, his brother might already be one of Voldemort’s favorites.

But this time is different.

“You’re right James. Life is gonna be so much fun when we’re older."

By the time they meet up with the rest of the group, Sirius is slightly irritated because James hadn’t wanted to let him wander too far and he still hadn’t got anything for the damn deer. So after twenty minutes of trying to lose him and failing, he gave up and learned himself be aggravated. He won’t have any more time to go shopping because they have exams and then he has to leave to go home for the holidays and definitely won't have time with his family.

He honestly didn’t care to be incredibly social but Dorcas was sweet to invite and he said that he would get Harry’s parents together but he couldn’t do that if James was too focused on him.

He found everyone else in the Three Broomsticks, chatting amongst themselves calmly. Since he was irritated with James hovering, he had made his best friend carry the bags he had in his hand, leaving him free to pout with his arms folded.

Remus spots them and gives a curious look, “Finally decided to rejoin the group?”

“Piss off, Remus.” He says and sits down next to Marlene.

“What the hell did I do?”

“Ignore him, he’s been buzzing around Hogsmeade and Christmas shopping.”

Wormtail gasps and tries to peer into where James put his bags, “Ooo what did ya get, Padfoot.” He asks with an excited expression.

“Coal.” He replies shortly, which makes the rat slump.

He feels James’s hands on his neck and squeeze slightly, “Be nice, Sirius,” He doesn’t respond but James quickly directs his attention to Lily and gives her a charming smile, all she does is give him a raised eyebrow in return, “Having a good day, Evans?”

“I mean when you weren’t here, yeah.”

“You wound me, Love.”

“Then I’ve done my job.” She shrugs and gets everyone at the table to laugh. James isn’t dissuaded, loving the animosity Evans usually gave him. He grins and continues to rub at his neck, getting into a conversation with the rest of the girls.

Sirius sighs and looks over at Remus, leaning on one of his hands, “What did I miss?”

“Weren’t you the one who just told me to piss off?”

“And now I’m being nice to you, now did I miss anything?” He asks as he pokes Moony’s cheek. The werewolf gives him a bored look and he pokes his cheek again in retaliation.

“It's Hogsmeade we didn’t do anything different than usual. What were you and Prongs doing for so long?”

“Like he said, I was getting presents.” He shrugs 

“So late? Geez I hope I get something decent,” Remus jokes.

“Oh, only the finest jewels for you, Lord Moony.”

“Piss off, Sirius.” He laughs and enjoys the rest of the day with his friends, happy with Lily and James getting along, sad about seeing his brother earlier, anxious about going home to his family and seeing all of the Blacks again, including Bellatrix.

But none of that matters now, he’s gonna enjoy his time with James, and everyone else he lost. Because his plans are finally in motion.

Chapter Text

Sirius remembers his first year at Hogwarts. Everyone else in the Black family had been Slytherin and there was never a Gryffindor before, yes there were a few Ravenclaws and a lone Hufflepuff during the early ages of Hogwarts but other than that, no Gryffindor.

The silence in the hall after he was declared to be in the lion’s den was unnerving but Sirius had some decorum even at eleven. He walked confidently to the table and sat down, looking back at McGonagall getting the hat ready for the next person.

The eyes of everyone felt so unsettling and he knew he would be unwelcomed. Mentally preparing himself to beg for his parent's forgiveness and seven lonely years at Hogwarts. He’s staring at the plate in front of him, waiting for dinner to start when he feels someone brush up against him and lean into his personal space.

Lo and behold, it’s the very chatty boy he met with the wild hair on the train. Interesting fellow; unsurprisingly he would be a Gryffindor.

“Can I help you?” He asks with an incredulous tone and wide eyes.

“Now don’t act so formal, Sirius, after spending such a lovely train ride together you understand that we’re friends now.”

“We are?” He squints at the other boy, checking for any lies. His face is very open though, smiling and warm, and he faintly smells of apples and honey, like a warm pie that was made perfectly.

“Of course we are!” The hazel-eyed boy told him, giving no indication of moving away from him. Sirius nods and returns to the hat ceremony, watching the last student be sorted into Ravenclaw and seeing everyone clap and then watching as Dumbledore stands up to give a bizarre speech and warn the students of the forbidden forest.

As the feast begins he doesn’t move to put anything on his plate. He knows that his cousin Narcissa is sitting at the Slytherin table but he knows that she already has a letter written out to his parents, prissy little suck up, he doesn’t doubt her next move, and unfortunately for himself, he can’t save himself from this punishment.

He jumps when sees a hand switch out the empty plate in front of him with a full one with an assortment of food. He glances over to see the bespectacled boy from before gently smiling at him and gesturing to the plate of food. He narrows his eyes in suspicion at whatever gimmick this could be but the other just moves closer to him, speaking in a whisper.

“My family is considered ‘new money’ amongst British society,” He says with an eye roll, “But from one pureblood to another, I know how expectations can be stressful. It would be nice to have a true friend if you’re willing?” Sirius is shocked by the prospect, he wants to be the boy was lying and trying to warm up to him so that he humiliate him at a later time but he looks at the soft gaze behind those gold-wired glasses and he feels safe…as strange as that sounds.

“I could use a friend.” He says softly, staring intently into the other’s eyes. James moves a hand down his arm and he suppresses a shiver, not used to being touched so casually.

“Great now that we are official friends, I demand that you eat.” Sirius shoves James away from him but grabs a fork to dig into his plate.

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves.” Making the wild-haired boy laugh boisterously.

Sirius sighs looking over at James now as they sit on the Hogwarts Express heading back home for the holidays. He was still so kind, so comforting...and he still smelled like a honey Dutch apple pie.

It was just the two of them, Moony and Wormtail staying back in the castle. Even if his memory is a bit foggy he isn’t surprised that it's just him and James. Euphemia and Fleamont Potter had their golden boy in their late 60s; too old for even wizards. After he learned to let his guard down with James during their first year, he’d come to realize that James was very…sheltered.

Sirius was forced to mingle with the rest of pureblood society in hopes of making connections and being shown off like a baby dragon at an auction. James however was kept under his parents his entire childhood and traveled to any destination around the world with them 24/7. Which was sweet in some regards but also made a child overly eager to make friends and fit in when said child finally settled down in a permanent living area.

Which wasn’t too hard for James when he came to Hogwarts, he was a naturally charming person and made friends easily. As his best mate had gotten older and grown into his looks it only seems easier for him. 

Sirius was completely different, sure even though he also fell for James’ charm and became friends with him he wasn’t one to be sociable, it was all an act. He likes making jokes and pulling pranks. He won’t lie but he also doesn’t like people all that much. He’ll blame his dear mother and father for that one.

He sighs and stops looking out of the window to look back over at James who is blissfully absorbed in his book, a pretty girthy thing with a dark brown covering, “Hey, Jamie?”

James hums in acknowledgment but doesn’t look up.

“Whatcha reading?”

“An early copy of an advanced arithmancy book by a Japanese author that I’ve been following. My Dad got it for me as an early present and we’re gonna discuss it when I get home.” Now that Sirius looks closely at the cover he can see that it’s in a different language. Wow, what a nerd.

Not wanting to get on the topic of arithmancy; because Sirius did not take that class for a reason. He goes back to looking out the window, bored out of his mind and nerves jumbled at the thought of going back to the Black estate, the place where all of the Black family spent the Yule season. 

It’s not like he doesn’t have a plan, he’s overly planned if was gonna be honest. But this could go completely wrong, not only will he have to be in the presence of the brother who is currently shunning him, but he will also have to be around his mother and father for a long period of time without clawing out his eyes, and the extended family members like his cousins, aunts, and uncles who disappeared during the war, uncles who were banished after the war, and cousins who either left him to rot in jail or ended up murdering him in his first lifetime…what could go wrong?

“Hey, Sirius?” He snaps his gaze back over to James who watches him with a concerned look, “You seem stressed.”

“I’m fine.” He rebuttals.

James rolls his eyes and puts his book down to get up to sit where he is, “Now let's not lie, Sirius, I know going back to the rest of your family has been weighing down on you, especially with the stuff you told me about the previous summer.”

The previous summer? Oh yeah, the lie he told James to get him off his back, “It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before, James, I’m just overthinking a bit.”

“But that’s the thing, I don’t want you stressed. How about you ditch your family and spend the holidays with mine? You know Mum and Dad adore you.”

“Not an option and you know it, if I were gonna ditch I would have stayed at Hogwarts when I had the chance.” He waves James off.

“But Sirius-”

“No buts, Potter, my mind is made up and there is no more to discuss on my family, let’s switch topics and talk about your family. How are sweet Mia and Monty?”

“They’re good, staying home more but they still get stuff done.” Now if Sirius can remember correctly James’ parents died right before graduation, it tore Prongs up when he first found out. They were already older but not old enough to die in their 80s. Wizards live a long time; Dumbledore being an example. 

They never got to fully investigate how both of them died at the same time, the war starting right after and then James and Lily getting married, and having Harry. That time of their lives seemed to move so quickly…until it didn’t. Guess that’s another thing to add to his list of responsibilities.

He lets out another sigh and Prongs gives him a sharp smile before he looks into the hall of the train, “Sirius if you’re not gonna talk about it, then you don’t get to mope around. Go find the trolley lady and get us something to snack on.” He tells him as he pushes him up into a standing position.

“What am I, your wife?” Knowing Lily, she wouldn’t have done it either.

“In theory, yes. Now go sweetheart and bring me back something tasty.” Prongs says to him before quietly chanting something and having his book fly into his hands, when the hell did James learn so much wandless magic?

He wanted to say something condensating before he left but the words were lost on him and he didn’t have the energy to mess with James at that moment, the younger one already deep into his book once again.

As he steps out of their cabin, he looks for the trolley lady, knowing she couldn’t be too far on the train. As he walks down the various cabins, he starts to think back to the Deity who brought him back to life. He’s tried to contact her multiple times but there hasn’t been a response. If he hadn’t had a feeling in the back of his mind that he wasn’t going insane he would have given up and believed it was all one big nightmare.

She did come to him while he was on death’s doorstep, maybe he needs to go to that extreme and she’ll come back…

“Looking for someone, young man?” He jumps at the sudden voice from behind him, he stops staring into space and sees the Trolley Lady smiling at him sweetly.

“As a matter of fact, I was looking for you. Two sandwiches, one pumpkin pasty, and two frozen butterbeers, please.” He asks kindly. Once he’s finished with his exchange he makes his way back to where James is. 

“Could you believe that someone of that importance would go missing?” He hears a group of Hufflepuffs speaking to each other as he walks past their cabin, the door is cracked open and he slows down to listen better, moving to the side so that he’s out of view.

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this, this isn’t the first government official to go missing and it won’t be the last.” Another person says to the previous one.

“Yeah, he probably got caught with his mistress and fled the country so that she wouldn’t string his balls up for everyone to see.” Someone else cuts in.

“Don’t be crass, plus it ain’t just government officials, I heard that some magical businesses around England were planning to close shop.” The first voice says.

“It’s the holidays, of cour-” The third voice says, sounding dismissive.

“But it’s not just the holidays! This has been going on for half the year.”

“Don’t get your underwear all in a twist, why are you so stressed out about this?”

The person groans, “Because if you two were smart enough you would see this is only the start of something bad…people go missing, businesses shut down, why would events like that happen if something wasn’t wrong.”

There’s a silence that comes after that last sentence and that is when he takes that as his cue to leave. He walks slowly, knowing how right that Hufflepuff was. Voldemort was out there and this was only the beginning of his reign of public tyranny.

He sighs and stops to look out one of the windows, watching the scenery go by. He walks up to the window and gently presses one of his hands against it, feeling the cold from the outside. The chill reminds him of when he was in the cell and the dementors would be piled on by him, orders straight from the ministry because he was so dangerous to have lose. He smiles at the sensation.

“Can you please be weird somewhere private, Sirius?” He hears the dull voice of his brother behind him.

He smirks and quirks his head in his direction, making sure the food is still secure in his grasp, “Can’t. It’s what makes me colorful amongst the rest of the Blacks. You see what I did there?” He grins at his joke; Regulus is unfazed.

“Ha ha ha, always with the jokes. I’ve done my talking to you for the day, goodbye.” He doesn’t try to stop his brother, knowing that they’ll have to deal with each other at home and with their parents.

When he goes back to where James is, the younger male gives him a look over his book, “What took you so long?”

“The little old lady had a line backed up.”

“What did ya get me?” 

“Where is my thank you?”

James chuckles and puts his book away before patting the seat next to him, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, you know I appreciate you. Thank you for going that through dangerous trek and getting us something to snack on.”

“Shut up.”

James being the good sport that he is, just gestures for him to sit next to him again and he doesn’t hesitate to fall into James’ arms, putting their pile of food between them, “I got you a pumpkin pasty.”

“Ah, you always know what I like.” James says as he takes a bite out of said treat.

“I also know that you ruin your appetite before you go home before the holidays, even though your Mum doesn’t like it.” He gives Prongs a pointed look who chooses to look away with a smirk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Then offers a piece of the pasty to him, he’s not one for pumpkin pasty but takes a bite out of it anyway, “Even so, I’m a growing young man, I need my nutrients. Weren’t you the one who said I was a God?”

He groans and flicks James in the forehead, “I didn’t mean it like that. Let me remind myself to never give you false praise.”

“Sirius, c’mon.” James whines before leaning close to his ear, “I’ll praise you,”

He hums, “I won’t force you, dear.”

“No forcing here, I would be glad to tell you how amazing you are, Sirius. You smell delightful for one.”

He rolls his eyes, “I always smell good, James. Hardly a praise.” No more smelling like sewage and death for him, been there done that.

“Apologies, of course you always smell good, but today for some reason I just wanted to take a bite out of you,” Take a bite? Before he can question Prongs on that statement, James sinks his teeth into his neck. 

He gasps in shock, staring at James who looks at him with a satisfied look, “What the hell is wrong with you? What was that for?”

Prongs shrugs and lets him go, opening up the butterbeer and taking a swig of it, “I don’t know actually, I wanted a taste of ya.”

“You freak, did you become a vampire overnight?”

“Nah, not my style. Why, too much for you?”

He thinks it over before answering, “No, but I’d hate for you to start trying kinks out on me without asking.”

“I’ll ask next time.”

“Or just use them with people you hook up with.”

“I’m not hooking up with anyone.” Prongs says in confusion.

Sirius gives him a dull look in return, “Yeah right, Prongs, I know you.” He goes to grab for his sandwich and breaks it apart before taking a bite of the smaller piece. Lily is the love of James’s life, but he still liked to have hook ups before they got together in 7th year. Not many, but still.

“I have no reason to lie, Sirius. No hooking up for me. What about you? You got someone on the side?” James asks him slowly.

“Merlin, no. I don’t have time to date or anything, I need to focus on myself and that’s all.”

It's quiet before he hears James cheerful voice and his finger poking on the tender skin on his neck that he just took a chomp out of, “Wonderful! My parents always say education is the most important thing for young people.”

He snorts and pushes James hand off his neck, “Yes please listen to your parents, James Potter, Lord knows you could use all forms of logic on your side.”

“But it’s much more fun to be reckless.” All Sirius could do is laugh, happily getting his mind off the inevitable confrontation with his family.

Chapter Text

Sirius takes a deep breath as the train pulls into 9¾ , absent-mindedly playing with the rings on his fingers before sliding them off and hiding them in his robes. His parents never cared for his rings, piercings, or tattoos. His mother more than his father, her sharp comments of it ‘ruining’ his clean appearance. However, every time Orion saw him looking less than perfect his face made up for the lack of comment. Otherwise, the man was a stone wall.

“Sirius.” He hums for James to continue as his best friend pulls both of their luggage down, Sirius giving him a warm smile in thanks, “I can see that you’re nervous, you know it's not too late to tag along with me.”

Oh, how easy that sounds to be, if instead of getting off and facing the entirety of his family for an extended period he would be vacationing at Potter Hall with James and his lovely parents, enjoying his Christmas without facing his demons. 

But he has some unfinished business to deal with before he can run away into James’ caring embrace and he’s come too far to quit before he could ever fully start. Plus leaving Regulus alone with them after pleading with his brother for another chance…

“Sorry Prongs but once again I’m gonna have to decline. Thanks for the invitation though,”

As they start making their way off of the train, Prongs lets out a frustrated huff, “I just don’t understand why you put up with it, Padfoot, you know being with them makes you miserable and I hate having to get you back after all the terrible things they’ve done to you.”

He waves a hand at James, motioning for him to lower his tone as they start to get into the crowd of students going home for the holidays and their families, “James Potter you’re making it sound worse than what it is and what I can handle. My parents don’t hit me; it’s not the way of a sophisticated pureblood. A few harsh words here and there, I can brush it off, just like I always have. Stop worrying.”

“How can I not worry when I see your hands shaking? When I see you close up into this shell of a person?” He steps closer and grabs the hand not holding his things, “Sirius you still don’t wanna tell me what happened to you this past summer, aren’t I right enough to be concerned?”

He moves their conjoined hands and holds James’s face softly rubbing his cheek with his thumb, “I love that you care, but I’m gonna be fine.”

James scowls and takes a step back looking around for his parents within the sea of people, “I don’t want you to be just fine, I want you to feel perfect and as far I know, that’s with me.”

“Being perfect is overrated and I’m done having this discussion, I have to go look for Regulus soon.” He deadpans. He catches sight of his younger brother but he seems to be in a deep discussion with Crouch Jr. Tilting his head at the two of them, never noticing how close they seemed.

Soon he feels himself being pulled in the opposite direction and looks back to see James taking him somewhere, “Prongs I know you can be pretty thick in the head but we just had this discussion.”

“Hush Sirius, I just want you to say hello to Mum and Dad before you leave.” Oh, well he had no problem with that. Mia and Monty were some of the people he was excited to see most after being sent back. Taking from James’ care packages didn’t add up to being in their presence.

He sees the Potters chatting away in a corner not too far from the crowd of families but still a comfortable distance. Prongs calls out for his parents and the both of them turn to look at them with kind smiles. It makes something in his chest tighten at the thought of their deaths. It felt so sudden when he heard the news from James for the first time. The heartbroken look on his best friend’s face when he whispered the words to Sirius. They died in the middle of the war, James didn’t get too much time to mourn for them but he and Lily did their best to cheer him up.

James soon lets him go to hug his mother, towering over her by just an inch. He whispers something to her that he can’t hear before moving to his father for a quick hug. 

Sirius stands and watches, feeling all warm inside as he looks at them. This is what he wanted Harry to grow up with. That joy that only his parents would have given him. Sirius tried, really did but he had his issues going, mentally and physically. But not this time, this time everything will be better.

“Sirius dear.” He’s being pulled from his thoughts as he sees Euphmia Potter standing right in front of him, she looks lovely as usual, and she smells wonderful as well. If James smelled like Dutch apple pie, his mother was vanilla and honey. It's like they came from a bakery or something.

“Hello Mrs. Potter,” He says quietly, still reeling from being near her again.

“Mrs. Potter? Why you haven’t called me that since your 2nd year,” She says in bemusement.

“Oh yeah…my apologies, the train ride has me exhausted is all.” He explains, noticing that the platform is starting to empty. He has to leave soon or else he and Regulus or gonna catch problems before they even step through the door.

Euphemia looks over at her husband and son and it aggravates him how all three give him the same look of concern, well mainly the Potter parents. James seems frustrated but he already knows why he’s receiving that look from his friend, “Oh, well Sirius it’s wonderful to see you again. You have a good holiday, Love.”

He nods walking backward as he responds, “Thank you, you all have a good Yule yourself. I’ll see you on the train, Prongs.” He calls out to James, getting a two-fingered salute in return.

As he returns to the main part of the station, he searches for his younger brother and finds him quickly, standing by one of the podiums, looking at people passing by. He puts some energy behind his steps and quickly walks up to his brother, “I’m here.”

Regulus glances at him from the corner of his eye, “You took your time.”

He rolls his eyes in response, “Oh bugger off, I needed to see James off.” His brother doesn’t respond other than a single nod and then starts to head off in the direction where their escort usually comes to get them, a squib that works directly under their father.

When they meet Manson, he nods and takes their luggage before pulling out a portkey that would lead directly in front of Grimmauld. It’s crazy how after being in the past for so many months, this would be his first time using a portkey again. He can’t say it’s his favorite mode of transportation, floo could be bothersome but never to the point of uncomfortable. And once he learned how to apparate, it was either that, his bike, or breaking out Padfoot.

But not Portkey, it always gave him headaches and stomach pains. It doesn’t help that it reminds him of how painful his coming back to the living felt. That felt like being set on fire along with having his intestines ripped out. Crazy feeling since he was coming back from the dead.

He has tears streaming down his face, begging with his eyes for his father not to make him go, “Please, Daddy, it hurts me.” five-year old Sirius whispered to his father who held out the portkey that they would need to use to get to one of his father’s office buildings.

Orion’s face didn’t change from the blank look he always gave everyone, only raising a slender eyebrow at his elder son, “Do you wish to stay with your mother?” 

He shakes his head furiously. Orion pulls him closer, the portkey showing in his sight for just a second, “There is no time for fear, Sirius, we are Blacks, we must push past everything that disturbs us to stay on top.” He was confused about what that meant, but he had no time to ask what his father meant before he was forced to hold on to the object, pain shooting throughout his small body.

He takes a deep breath before he and his brother put their hands on the silver key that looked like it would go into the lock of his father’s office. The feeling of the portkey still makes him uncomfortable but it wasn’t as bad as he remembers. Guess being trapped inside of a prison and then dying kind of makes up for it.

He’s able to hold back his gagging from the motion and looks over at Regulus. His brother never seemed disturbed by the process, he used to hate that about him, reminded him of his father and how he never seemed to be bothered by anything. He never went too long down that road, because if Regulus was like their father, that meant he was like her. And he would rather die a second time than admit something that diabolical.

Regulus walks into their home without glancing back at him and he quickly thanks Manson before following him inside. When he steps through he’s forced back into memories he’d buried deep inside himself. When he first came back he was in such a rush to leave that he didn’t even stop to think about his surroundings. 

The house wasn’t hideous. Just dark, all dark colors, and barely any windows. There isn’t too much movement and he doesn’t see either of his parents anywhere. Hopefully, he can just stay in his room until he has to meet with his family, “Gimsey.”

His house elf pops into view and he smiles down at her, wanting to check in with her about his room and if she has any issues when he hears a door slam open down the hall, “Sirius, Regulus! Come to your father’s office this instance!” His mother’s shrill voice booms through the whole house. He locks eyes with Regulus who is at the top of the stairs. She doesn’t sound mad, it's probably not bad.

They walk into their father’s office and he can see his stoic father at his desk, their mother standing next to him. He can already see her judgemental eyes hovering over the both of them, and he forces himself not to touch his hair. He didn’t get a chance to clean up since they just got home and he hates how uncomfortable that makes him. His brother stands beside him solidly with his hands behind his back and his eyes facing forward. He knows that looking anywhere else except straight would only get him in trouble.

“Your mother and I have been listening to your reports of your behaviors at school,” Their father says, his voice low and deep but not quiet, “At first there was some…concern about both of your behaviors, Sirius was said to be erratic and Regulus withdrawn. I didn’t know if I needed to step in to make sure that either of you needed any outside help.”

“We don’t need any rumors about you two being unstable, the embarrassment will be the least of your problems.” Their mother grumbles, her arms crossed as she avoids their father’s stare. Knowing that he was giving her a dark look.

Orion pauses before he continues, “Yes, in so many words we would rather the two of you come to me,” Walburga quietly hisses, Orion ignores her, “About anything that you would need. Walking around such a public place as Hogwarts won’t do. But I’ve also heard how well both of you are doing in your studies; and praise from all of your professors. It’s why instead of staying home tonight, you will be coming to Black Manor.”

“Tonight? What for?” He says in confusion before shutting his mouth for speaking out of turn. His mother glares and his father just watches him. They didn’t do this last time, surely good grades can’t be enough of a change to let them come to Black Manor a day early? What would even be the purpose of going?

He was supposed to be here until tomorrow when the rest of the family meet together and then after forcing himself into doing all the traditional “festivities” they're able to come back to Grimmauld and he goes to sulk in his room because he was angry about…something and displeased his mother and when she came to yell at him, he yelled back and they argued until he got so mad that she said he was the biggest disgrace she ever created. Then she left and he was hurt and he just grabbed anything he could and ran, ran to where he truly belonged, with James.

That’s how this is supposed to go, simple and easy. In and out, he dreaded coming back here because this place was his own personal hell, it was the same level as when he was in Azkaban; that God-forsaken hellscape. What are they trying to pull?

He glances over at his brother and can see his face blanketed in confusion, okay so they’re both lost as hell, wonderful.

“I can see you’re both confused,” Their father brings himself to stand to his full height, looking down at them, “Your mother and I wanted to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re both mentally…right,” He says casually with a wave of his hand, “We also have some plans for you. We won’t be able to speak about it fully until tomorrow morning but tonight is also important. There will be a ball held tonight at Black Manor with many other affluent families, not just from Britain but other locations, like Russia, Hungary, France, Italy, and so on.” His father sounds bored as he tells them this information but it still seems very important.

That’s when their mother finally unfolds herself from her wrapped position, bold enough to speak without aggravating her husband, “Which means you two will be on your best behavior, you’re old enough that I shouldn’t have to say this more than once. This ball is a significant event and too many eyes watching our entire family.” 

“Now that things have been discussed both of you need to pack your bags for tonight, we’ll be leaving for Black Manor and staying there until the end of the holiday,” No, no this wasn’t what was supposed to happen. They were supposed to stay here and arrive on Christmas morning, spend the day there, and then come back to Grimmauld the day after. He leaves his family on the 26th, “Sirius go upstairs and get ready, you’ll leave with your mother through the floo. Regulus, stay here, I have something to discuss with you first. We’ll follow after we’re done.” His father tells them and with that dismissal, he leaves and goes to do what he’s told.

Leaving his father’s office, he takes the stairs two at a time, hoping to outrun his mother before he’s left alone with her until they get to the family home. He locks his bedroom door and looks around his room, “Gimsey?” His house elf pops in and tilts her head questionly.

“Everything okay, my lord.” She says with a squeak.

“Yes dear, everything is perfect. We have to adjust our plans just a bit. My father has told me that we are leaving for Black Manor tonight instead of the morning so I need a bag packed for a few days longer than the previously discussed one.”

“Am I taking anything from your other bags?” His other bags, the ones he was taking when he was going to abandon ship in two days. 

“No. Keep those in my trunk, everything stays in the trunk and I’ll just take that along just in case I need to leave…early.” Gimsey nods and before he can say anything else, another elf pops into his room; Wargon.

“Mistress has informed me to let the young master know that you need to be ready and downstairs in five minutes.” The older elf says in a slow tone. Wargon is father’s elf but since his mother never wanted a personal elf like him or his brother, she just commanded whichever one she saw.

He sighs and drags a hand over his face, “Thank you, I’ll be down soon.” Wargon pops out of the room just as fast as he came in. He walks over to his mirror and checks himself over before heading out of the door, “Gimsey, I’ll meet you at the manor, when you get there don’t go out of my room.”

He sees his mother standing by the floo, scowling as usual. He schools his features and stands by her wordlessly, “You need to work on your time management.” She says before she goes through the fireplace.

He holds his tongue and goes in after, praying for this week to be over.

As soon as he stepped into Black Manor he hasn’t had a break. It seemed as if everything and everyone was moving quickly to get ready for this ball. A ball that he had no clue about previously but that was a thought for another day. The elves were either cooking, cleaning, or preparing the ballroom. So far it seems like his family were the last ones to arrive. He sees his grandparents speaking with his aunt and he almost balks at the last time he saw any of them. They all left Britain when he was young, Morocco if he remembers correctly. His grandparents wanted warmer weather and his aunt never could conceive, so she and her husband left for better scenery.

After his brother and father died the same year, he wasn’t allowed near his home. He tried but his mother must have known. Coming near any family property would give him a temporary loss of feeling in his muscles and make him cold and shaky. After the second time trying to get information about the sudden increase of deaths in his family, he had to be held back by the future Mrs. Potter, saying that he was making her and her husband go crazy with worry.

He even sees his cousins from his aunt Callidora and aunt Charis. None of them went to Hogwarts. Beaubaxtons being the institute that housed that side of his family. They disappeared when the war got too bad, he doesn’t believe any of them died but he also thinks they decided to wash their hands of the family when things started to become too gruesome. (Bellatrix falling in love with a psychopath, his brother’s disappearance, his aunt’s murder, his uncle’s death, him going to prison…)

Now that he thinks of it, he wishes he could have done the same. Britain was a grey cloud only waiting to get darker and more bloody. Why stay here when your family only starts dying one by one?

He finally gets a breather from all of the fittings and critiques over what he was planning on doing with his hair and “flushed out face” to go into one of the smaller sitting rooms that were rarely used. He sits in one of the armchairs, sinking into the plush feeling and closing his eyes.

“Having a hard day, Sirius?” He opens his eyes to see his brother sitting in a chair beside him reading a book, how long has he been there?

He shifts in his chair and closes his eyes again, “Would you call being forced to play as mother’s most hated doll hard?”

“Most hated? She seems to only be happy when you outshine everyone. If you were her doll, you’re her favorite one to play with.”

He snorts, “Oh yeah, I’m her favorite. She loves playing with my mind and telling me that I better look my best or else I am not allowed to eat for fear of being ‘too plump’.”

Regulus hums, “Well you are looking quite slim so kudos to her,” He says drily.

Sirius chooses to ignore his brother and soon it's comfortably silent between them, Regulus reading his book and him dozing off. He doesn’t know how long the both of them are in there until he hears a voice he tried to forget about since his death.

“Well well well, if it isn’t our two sweet cousins. Regulus and Sirius~,” His fists clench at the high-pitched tone of Bellatrix’s grating voice. He never thought he had to see her this soon, well actually yes he did, he knew he would see her during Yule but he thought he had another day to get his thoughts together. His original plan was to be shut in his room and then talk through the mirror to James until one of them had to leave. He left Prongs a little agitated and he wanted to sweet-talk himself back into his good graces.

This isn’t a problem, honestly, Bellatrix was only annoying before she went completely insane, she liked getting under his skin but she wouldn’t attack him, and the family home wouldn’t allow magic to strike members under it harmfully. Nifty ancient magic that he has yet to research about. Now her sister on the other hand…Narcissa has always been the one he couldn’t get along with. He honestly forgets why but he knows she was always jealous of him.

Narcissa is leaning against the door looking over the room disinterestedly, a pair of heels hanging off her fingertips and her feet bare. She seems as done up as him, which means they need more time to finish getting ready.

“Narcissa dear, don’t you see how nice your cousin's hair looks, not sticking up and tangled like your hair was this morning?” His Uncle Cyngus asks his cousin as they sit in the gardens for breakfast. It's only him, Narcissa, his uncle, and his mother. Easter usually requires more outside family interaction, so in the gardens they eat. He honestly hates all family time but the second year had no room to argue.

His parents were just now accepting (begrudgingly) of him being in Gryffindor and now it's tense once again because Narcissa’s sister just ran off with a muggleborn. They’re the first ones down for breakfast and he prays that anyone else would walk in. His uncle’s compliments never felt genuine, they only seemed to anger his mother and make her criticize him.

Walburga smiles tightly at her brother and glances over at Narcissa, the sixteen-year-old keeping her gaze off to the side, “Now, Cygnus, Narcissa’s hair is lovely as always I never see it out of place. Sirius on the other hand, can’t seem to keep his curls under control. Very messy.” She says with a tsk. He shuffles the food around on his plate, but not so much that he looks to be playing with his food.

He wants to fix his hair and get the loose curls out of his face and back into the tight bun his mother forced on him today, but he knows doing that in front of company will only be punishment later on. So he keeps messing with his food. Shuffle shuffle shuffle.

“How sweet of you, sister, Narcissa is at that age that with so many marriage proposals it's no wonder that she’s the one in the family everyone desires for their family.” His uncle says.

His mother tsks again, “Really? Even with what happened with your other daughter, I’m surprised that either of them have such options.”

The silence that comes after that is stifling. Sirius prays once again for anyone, preferably his father, to come in and end this conversation. His mother is amused and his uncle is angry. They’re not showing it but the magic is obvious, both of them are doing what they always do when they get Sirius and Narcissa together.

Cygnus lets out a soft chuckle, “Yes, some things are just unfortunate. Life moves on, and Bellatrix has a standing engagement with Rodolphus Lestrange. No worries there, and Narcissa,” He pauses and looks at his blonde daughter, her gaze still turned away, “We’re looking outside of Britain, the options there are better for her. Not so sickly and more opportunity. I didn’t know you were concerned with engagements seeing how Sirius…”

Walburga’s gaze narrowed on her brother, “How he what?” She hisses.

Cygnus waves an uncaring hand toward his sister, “Nothing to worry about. While Sirius may have a pretty face and powerful core, all good qualities for a marriage contract, that’s only the basics. Hasn’t Sirius fallen into a certain…crowd?” He asks with fake concern.

He scrapes his fork against his plate and pauses as he feels his mother’s sharp nail poke into his side.

“Even with Sirius’ abnormalities, he can still get just as many offers. Probably even more, he’s not as mousey as Narcissa.” He hears his cousin let out a soft sigh.

Before either of them can be geared up into another insult to either of their children, he sees his father walk outside with his uncle Alphard and their fathers; Artucus and Pollux Black. Walburga and Cygnus silence themselves and once the four men sit down, he sees even more members of the family walk out into the gardens.

“What’s got the four of you out here so early?” Alphard asks his siblings with a curious look.

Cygnus answers with a slight smirk, “Just enjoying the morning with our beautiful children,” Walburga gives a slight nod and his uncle watches the both of them with a wary expression.

“Bella, can we not antagonize anyone tonight, I’d prefer to do what Mother instructed and worry about our upcoming guests,” Narcissa asks her sister as she sits primly on the couch opposite where he and his brother are sitting.

Bellatrix rolls her eyes and flings herself next to her sister, “I’m not doing any of that. Mother asked you to do that because this is an important event and your fiance won’t even be here, so you have to impress the masses on your own.”

“Lucius had a business engagement overseas that was pre-planned. He already sent in his regards to our family, Bella, no need to remind me.” Narcissa says glumly.

Bellatrix rolls her eyes again, “Grow up, Sissy, Malfoy will shower you with presents when he returns from his business, so you don’t need to cry over being by yourself. You should get used to it. Your engagement came at the perfect time, all of proper society will be focused on you and I can do more important things.” She says with a satisfied look.

He tries to keep still and see if she says anything else. They have to be talking about Voldemort if all of the elite of magical Europe is coming to this party, then that means Voldemort is at a point where he has enough status to get himself invited to a soiree such as this. The war starts next year.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t say anything else, and she sets her sights on him next, “Hello cousin, still running behind Potter like a pathetic little whelp like you always do?” He clenches his teeth and ignores her.

Life is never that easy with Bellatrix, and if he knew he couldn’t kill her now and be done with it, he would.

She tilts her head and smirks, “Ignoring me?” She coos, “That hurts my feelings, Sirius. And here I was about to compliment you. Aunt Walburga sure does know how to clean you up after you continue dirtying yourself with mudbloods and blood traitors.” She shrugs casually and he bites his lip not to blurt out something he would regret.

“Yes, my mother does enjoy dressing me up but I assure you most of my beauty comes to me naturally, I don’t have to do a lot of work, unlike yourself.” He gestures to her wild curls and smokey overdone makeup.

Regulus closes his book and looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, Bellatrix gives him a sharp smile, “I don’t worry about my looks as much as you do because I have more going for myself. You and Narcissa are only good for the things you can provide your spouse so it's fine if that's where you excel.”

He glares and Narcissa lets out a shocked, “Bella!”

Bellatrix shrugs again, “I’m not tryna insult you, sister, but it is the truth. You will be busy being the perfect wife, to pompous perfect Malfoy, and Sirius will be struggling to find a match that can accept everything that’s wrong with him.”

He scoffs, “I’m nothing like Narcissa, I don’t need a marriage to complete my life.”

Narcissa's eyes snap back over to him, “Oh go to hell, Sirius. Like you can find anything at all. No one wants to claim trash.”

Sirius barks out a laugh, “I’m trash? Such big words from such a small-minded person, and here I thought those years at Hogwarts were wasted on someone like yourself.”

Bellatrix cackles and leans over to her sister’s ear, speaking loudly, “It must really upset you that you and Sirius compete over who looks the best in the family and he goes and insults your intelligence like that.”

Regulus cuts in, “Bellatrix stop antagonizing them.”

“I would never do such a thing, I only speak the truth, my sister and your brother have both been told that they look the best in the family but they never seem to settle on who it actually is.”

“There is no competition, I have always been better than Sirius at everything and even now I have ended with one of England’s more eligible bachelors as my husband and Sirius will be sad and lonely like he was always meant to be,” Narcissa says with a flip of her hair, she stands gently and looks at him with contempt, “Who would want to marry someone destined to inherit the madness of the family.”

“Better to be mad than to be an empty shell of a person destined to be walked all over by everyone and potentially be cheated on by a husband who “conveniently” is out of town on business.” He tells her softly.

Narcissa stares at him with a wide-eyed look and he can see Bellatrix trying to keep her laughter in behind her. He shrugs and goes to stand, he’s not getting any more rest and his mother is gonna start looking for him soon. Before he can turn around, he feels something sharp smack him on the side of his face, he hears his brother gasp as he glances down and sees Narcissa’s heels below him.

He slowly looks up at the older girl, “Did you just hit me with your damn shoes?” He asks.

Narcissa herself seems shocked at what she did before she steals her features and glares at him, “Yes I did. I’m tired of you walking around here like you can say and do whatever you feel like. Some of us care about our futures-”

He cuts her off, “I don’t care what you’re saying, you just hit me with your shoes, I should beat the crap out of you.”

Bellatrix squeals in delight and Narcissa moves closer toward him, “Go ahead, filthy trash.” before he can grab her by her blonde hair and swing her against the wall, someone pulls him away from her.

“Let me go! She hit me first! I deserve one punch to her stupid face!” He complains as he tries to get the person off of him, “Regulus let me go!”

“It’s not me, Sirius!” His brother steps in front of him with a frustrated look, “Calm down.”

He freezes and wonders who else would physically restrain him, his parents are surely too busy to break up a fight, and even if lethal spells are banned from the house, non-lethal are all good and well, “Uncle Alphard?”

The man lets out a boisterous laugh and loosens his hold on him, only gently holding him by the arm, “All good there, Sirius? I knew you had your mother’s anger but we can’t go attacking one another,”

He shrugs out of his uncle’s hold and crosses his arms, “Bitch attacked me first.”

Narcissa spits out insults like an angry Dragon and he snarls back at her. Bellatrix can’t stop cackling in the background and Regulus rubs at his head as if he’s done for the day. His uncle pets the top of his head softly, “Now now, we don’t have to throw shoes and insults. Sirius, Narcissa, walk with me,” He looks over the room before his eyes land on Regulus and Bellatrix, “You two should also be getting ready soon, no one in the family has too much free time today.” He walks out of the room without a response and Sirius follows after him, not waiting for Narcissa. 

They walk quietly for a moment before his uncle speaks again, “You two shouldn’t fight.”

He scoffs, “Are you forgetting the part where she hit me first? I didn’t even get the chance to fight back, I’m the victim.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Narcissa mutters.

He spins around to face her, “We can still fight-”

“Stop it, both of you.” Alphard cuts them off with a serious tone, all three of them stop in an empty corridor, their uncle walking toward a large window and looking out, “I understand that neither of you grew up close and I blame my siblings for that. But I believe both of you are old enough to understand that you’re being used.”

Neither of them says a word, “If you understand how important tonight is, you wouldn’t be fighting. I can’t tell you much, but knowing what I do know about my siblings, I’ve thought the two of you would have bonded but I can see that everything they did succeeded,”

“You two are older now, you don’t need to be friends, but you need to understand who the real enemy is against the both of you, and it ain't each other.”

His uncle doesn’t say anything else, one of the house elves pops next to them, bowing quickly before looking at his cousin, “Pallas has come to tell Lady Narcissa that her mother is looking for her.” Narcissa nods and walks off without a word, Pallas leaving soon after.

“I can’t stand her, Bellatrix is a psychotic killer in the making but her?” He shakes his head, “She’s not worth trying with.”

“The walls have ears, Sirius, that was always lesson one.” Damn, he’s right. Black Manor was full of paintings, statues, and other trinkets ready to whisper to the closest family member they trusted. Alphard brought them to a location where it wasn’t too bad but being careful around his family was unfortunately lesson one.

“Thank you for the words of wisdom, Uncle Alphard, but I must take my leave, my mother has been without her favorite doll long enough.” He says flatly.

“Your spirit is too strong for someone like Walburga to destroy it, Sirius,” Alphard calls after him.

His mother touches up his hair with a flick of her wand before she studies his face. He waits for whatever assessment she’s conducting to be over with. After a few more moments she nods and goes over to the mirror in her room to double-check herself.

The ball started almost an hour ago but he was still getting ready in his mother’s room after he had left his Uncle. Fashionably late.

He really doesn’t know what to expect from this ball, as far as he knows there wasn’t one in the last timeline, or if there was one he and Regulus weren’t invited, he remembers hearing his brother’s footsteps moving around their house during that time. He can understand if Voldemort got an invitation to this and used it as a meeting place for many pureblood families around Europe though.

Does this mean his father wants him to be included in that? He’s surprised that Orion or his grandparents even agreed to this, yeah his family was incredibly racist and looked down on those they deemed “less than” but Voldemort’s cause was too erratic and flashy, the older generation of his family would want change on their terms. Not to follow a madman with no family ties.

“What am I meant to do tonight?” He chances to ask his mother, hoping that she is distracted enough to not snap at him for talking to her.

“Your father will explain it to you when you meet him at the bottom of the stairs, just remember that as we walk down you keep your face clear of anything. You will observe the room but not too much, this is a first impression of you. Your father and I have been working on this for months.”

That still didn’t answer his question but there was no point in forcing the issue, guess he’ll see soon enough why he’s here. But he can act how they want him to act, he was born for this.

Soon his mother motions for him to stand and after smoothing out his dress robes, the door opens for them and he walks down the long hallway that leads to the grand staircase that overlooks the ballroom in Black Manor. He hears the music and voices of all the guests and he stomps down his nerves by imagining James is next to him.

Getting all shy on me, Padfoot? The version of James tells him with a grin, These people aren’t worth your nerves. 

With one more deep breath, he straightens his back and holds his head high. Made-up James is right, why is he getting nervous about a party with purebloods? If he knew his father wouldn’t punish him for it, he’d prank them with glee. Plus this might be his only chance to see whatever the death eaters have planned, sure he remembers the last war, but this gives him an edge.

His mother stands behind him, and most of the chatter in the room goes hushed, the music now playing a soft melody, there are whispers but mainly everyone watches as they descend the steps. There are plenty of people in the room already and without moving his head too much he can see his father at the bottom waiting for them. When he makes it to the bottom, his father has his hand out and after a slight push from his mother, he realizes that he’s meant to hold his own out and not his mother.

“Thank you.” He whispers to his father and the room seems to be able to go back to its previous state, only with many more eyes focused on him and his parents surrounding him. Weird.

His aunt Lucrecia walks up to him with her husband behind her and she’s beaming at him, he can’t help but smile back at her. She was always one of his favorite family members.

“Oh Sirius, you look stunning! What a wonderful introduction, I remember when I was introduced to proper society.” Wait a second…

“I figured it was time for him to be fully acclimated, a little later than we hoped but he won’t be lost on any offers.” His father replies to his sister, keeping him locked between him and his mother. He sneaks a peek around the room and sees many people, studying him, as if taking note of all his attributes. Oh, Morgana help him.

He feels his mother lightly touch the waves in his hair, “Sirius will get the best marriage offers, he’s a Black it's only natural.” She says quietly while she still pets his hair without messing up the style it was put in for tonight.

FUCK. Someone, please help him! He makes eye contact with his brother across the room and tries to convey the panic and fear in his eyes. Either Regulus didn’t care or he didn’t get a good look because he turned away and went back to a conversation with someone else. Jackass.

He looks back at the adults surrounding him and smiles at everyone, not trusting to open his mouth for fear of throwing up all over his beautiful outfit and all over the floor. Or maybe he should, no one would marry him if he did that. He can’t even ask fake James for help, after hearing the word ‘marriage’ his brain shuts down and starts a fire within it. He can't summon fake James. He could barely move, holding on to his father more tightly. However, the older man moves as if he doesn’t even notice.

Sirius doesn’t know how long he’s been at this party. It could have seconds, minutes, hours, maybe even days! Okay well, not days that would be ridiculous. But after his aunt gives another round of congratulations she and her husband go to mingle and Sirius is stuck with his parents, if he knew this was what was waiting for him he would have gone home with James, information be damned. It’s not like he was getting into the meeting with the death eaters.

So far he’s just been introduced to his father’s associates overseas, no one from England. He wonders if it's because the people here know more about how he’s a disappointment to his family name and didn’t want to marry him or if it's because of the dwindling numbers of eligible purebloods down here. Hmm.

He keeps trying to find a way out but he either sees family members that hate him (stupid Narcissa and her psychopathic sister) or family that fully supports marrying him off like cattle (His grandparents and aunt). Plus as much as he fully hates anything related to this sort of function, he knows well enough that he can’t be unchaperoned.

His father is droning on about…something to someone from Greece and his mother had walked over to talk to the wife while Sirius was forced to sit there and be bored and in misery. No one is coming to save him. 

He lets out a deep sigh, glances to his right, and locks eyes with the son of the man his father was speaking with. Sirius won’t lie and say he wasn’t attractive but after they were briefly introduced, the other boy didn’t seem all too interested in him.

He tilts his head, “Marinos, is it?” The boy in question raises an eyebrow at him and he can see from the corner of his eye both of their fathers glancing over, “Forgive me, but I thought I heard you mentioning that you enjoy magical field racing.”

Marinos blinked at him and he could see his ears getting red but after a second, he responded, “Yes I participated in it myself but I had a leg injury and needed to take a break from it for the season.”

He untangles himself from his father’s hold and steps closer to the other, “Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that. Are you planning to go professional?”

“Yes, I am. My coaches told me that my chances are still very high so I plan it come spring. Tryouts are in Brazil this year”

“I’ve been researching different sports to get into, never was a fan of Quidditch. Field racing however sounded more,” He makes himself pause, “engaging.”

He finally gets a small smile from the older boy, “I think so as well. I know a few people who enjoy winged horse racing. Is that something you are interested in?” Hah, an opportunity.

He nods, “Yes I've seen them, I haven’t got a great look at them yet but if you’re offering to show me the sport I couldn’t say no.” He flirts subtly, he needs to get away from under his parents. He makes it obvious by looking down at his drink, “I’m all out, mind escorting me for more?” He holds out his arm, which Marinos takes and he gives his father a slight wave, ignoring his mother, “Be right back.” He says he points to the refreshment table where servers work.

His father gives him a narrowed stare but he only smiles, “Don’t stray, Sirius.”

“I won’t,” He hums and turns around, beaming at Marinos.

Marinos gives a low chuckle, “Was I just your excuse to get away from your parents?”

“Yes and no, I couldn’t stand being smothered by them anymore but I also found you very cute,” He moves his hand up Marinos’ arm, feeling the muscles underneath his robes, “You didn’t seem that interested in me so I figured you wouldn't be too upset.”

Marinos gets him his next drink and hands it over to him, still holding on to him, “I’m not ready for marriage yet, I’m only nineteen. And I wanna run professionally,”

“You can still be young and married and have that.” Marinos gives him a questioning look but he only shrugs, “I’m not ready to be married either, and I definitely don’t want to be in an arranged marriage, I’m just letting you know that you can have it all.”

Marinos leans in slightly, putting two fingers under his chin, “If you’re offering then that might help me decide if I want it all.” He purrs at him.

He bites his lip, not uninterested in him but he still feels that he would be playing into his parent's hands if he did go along with this. Before he can open his mouth he flinches at his mother’s voice.

“Sirius. I need you to come with me.” She sounds monotone but he knows his mother well enough to know she isn’t pleased with him, she turns toward Marinos and speaks kindly, “Heir Diamandis, I heard your father say that he wishes to speak with you.” Marinos lets him go swiftly and quickly bows to the both of them, giving Sirius one more glance before making his way back to his father.

He and his mother watch him before she grabs his arm tightly and hisses in his ear, “Acting like a whore is not the way you represent this family.”

He tries to discreetly get away from her but she’s holding on too hard, “I’m not acting like a whore.”

Walburga rolls her eyes, moving about the room as if she’s looking for someone, he’s curious as to where she is taking him because they’re moving away from his father. He doesn’t seem to notice that his wife is kidnapping him, too busy speaking with another business associate.

“Where are we going?”

“Toward your future husband,” His eyes widen in disbelief, and before he can ask her what’s she talking about, his mother pulls him to a far corner, a smile on her face, “Ah Lord Gillians, this is Sirius, the one I promised you.” Promised?

The man looked as old as his parents but his face seemed to be stuck in a permanent frown, almost balding and his hair was already all white, he even had long nose hair, bleh.”

The man hums, looking Sirius up and down, “You were right, Lady Black, he is beautiful.” That statement makes him shiver, watching the man’s hungry gaze on him.

“Yes and he just turned seventeen, he’s a fifth-year so he’s almost finished with school and can be ready for marriage soon after.” Fucking bitch, she’s selling him off to the first old man she can find.

Gill whatever his name was nods, not taking his off of him, “That should be fine, I’m going to be busy in Romania for most of the next few years so I can get a home ready for us while I’m down there.” No. No.

“Perfect, Sirius needs some stability, with him being away at school, it’s hard for me to instill it onto him.” He opens his mouth to ruin this whole thing but his mother’s nails sink in his arms and he gasps out in pain, “A wealthy man such as yourself would be able to take care of him and make sure that he gives the family plenty of children.”

“No-” Her other hand pinches his stomach and he looks away at the sudden tears coming to his eyes. No, he won’t stay here and take this, if he has to blast his way out of this he will.

He isn’t paying attention to what his mother is saying, until she feels him let him go and push him toward the old pervert, “Why don’t you get to know each other more personally, and I’ll check in on the two of you later.”

He snaps his gaze to her, “You can’t leave me by myself, it's not proper,” There was no one near the dark corner to see them, his father wasn’t anywhere in sight, what the hell is she pulling?

His mother only waves him without a glance, “You’ll be fine, Sirius. We all must make sacrifices for the family.” She says before disappearing into the crowd.

He tries to go after her but he feels an arm wrap around his waist, “No need to run, darling.”

He gives the man a disgusted look before pushing off his arm, ”Do not call me that.” He lets out a groan and fixes his robe to avoid messing with his hair and ruining it.

“Your mother said you were rambunctious, but I wasn’t worried, I figured I could straighten you out just fine.”

He narrows his eyes at the creature, “Oh fuck you, I would kill myself before I ever let you straighten, and even then no one has the power to dare try.”

That seems to irritate the man, he squeezes his arm tightly, pulling him forward, “You need to know when to hold your tongue, darling. I won’t take disrespect when we’re married.”

He kicks the man in the leg, getting him to let him go, “We aren’t getting married you piece of shit.” He hisses.

That really angers the man and as he charges for him, he suddenly slips on the floor in a daze. Sirius jumps back at the man, bumping into someone, he looks behind him to see his uncle Alphard, his wand pointed at the old man.

“Now sir, you must know better than to attack a member of this family. Leave before you disappear mysteriously. I’d hate for his father, the Lord of the house, to find out that you’ve tried attacking his son. He wouldn’t be pleased.”

The pervert scrambles up and quickly leaves, running with his tail tucked between his legs.

He sighs and leans into his uncle before turning to face him, “How did you know I was here?”

His uncle is putting away his wand before he gestures for them to move away from the party, heading to another room that would take them back upstairs, “I saw your father busy, and your mother making small conversation and I realized that neither of them had you so I went looking and found you here.”

“Are you gonna tell my mother what you saw?” He asks curiously

“No, that wouldn’t do any good. I’m gonna let your father know and he’ll handle it.”

“That man spoke as if there was already a contract between us.”

“If your mother was the one to set that up, she probably has something up her sleeve to get you to marry him without your father noticing but no worries, if Narcissa can choose her marriage under her father’s nose then you can also marry for love, Sirius.”

He sighs, finally running a hand through his hair as they stand before his room, “I don’t want to be married! I never want to get married, I just don’t like people choosing for me. My parents just sprung this on Regulus and me, and where did my brother go?”

Alphard always knows what’s going on with the family, it doesn’t matter which branch it is, he knows where that person was and what they were doing. He used to wonder if his uncle was some kind of seer or if he was just strange in a good way.

“Your brother is in a meeting with those what do you call ‘em?” He puts his hand to his chin in a thinking motion, “Death greeters or whatever.” He feels his stomach sink.

“Regulus is a death eater?” He says as he twists his hands.

“Death eater? That’s what they’re called? Now that just sounds ridiculous. But no he isn’t, at least not yet. Your family allowed the meeting but doing any initiations was prohibited. It wasn’t tasteful.” Alphard chatters on.

Sirius is tired and feels he hasn’t achieved anything beyond looking foolish. Getting caught off guard at a pureblood society function wasn’t his plan and now he doesn’t know if can trust being alone with his mother. He never trusted her before but now feels more uncomfortable around the woman.

“Thank you for the help, uncle, but I need to lie down. I’m starting to get a migraine.”

“Very well, you sleep well, Sirius, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He nods and enters his room.

“Gimsey.” He calls out for his elf. She pops into his room, standing in front of him with a curious look in his eyes.

“Yes, Master Sirius?”

“Did you get all of my belongings from Grimmuald?” He says as he starts to undress, not caring where his clothes go, just wanting to get into something comfortable to go to bed.

Gimsey nods frantically, her ears swaying back and forth, “Yes yes, Anything you wanted has been packed and placed in your extra trunk, if you needed anything else it would be here.”

“Do you have that bag that I gave to you?” He realized a few months back that Gimsey was only covered in cloth and he felt that as his personal she could have a few clothes to keep her comfortable, Gimsey is still young so she wouldn’t act as severely as Kreature; Regulus elf.

She nods again with a shy smile, “Yes, Gimsey will wear new clothes when Master Sirius and I leave.” He pets the top of her head softly.

“Good darling, I’m glad. That’s all I wanted to ask, I’ll call for you tomorrow,” With that dismissal, Gimsey pops back out of the room.

As badly as he wanted to sink into his sheets and head into a deep sleep so that he could forget about the entire day, he still needed to get something done that he knew he wouldn’t have time for the day, Christmas calling for all sorts of family ‘bonding’.

He sits down at his desk and gets a few pieces of parchment and a quill. He thinks about what exactly he wants to write before starting.

Dear Regulus,

…

He wakes up to a banging on his door and grabs his wand in shock, who the hell is that? He stumbles out of his bed and opens his door, peaking out who it can be.

It's one of his cousins, Callidora’s daughter, Capella. She’s a bit older than him in her late twenties and he’s curious as she stands with her hands behind her back strawberry blonde hair swaying, “Hello there, cousin.”

“Hello,” He replies slowly, “Is something the matter?” He has no problem with the woman but her family and late aunt Charis' family disappeared when the war got going. Leaving for something that wasn’t gonna make them choose sides.

Capella shrugs, “You missed breakfast and I was curious about your whereabouts.” he winces at the statement, missing breakfast on the day of Yule celebrations was not…good. It wasn’t as bad as missing the dinner, you aren’t allowed to miss the dinner. But a day after the party, he can probably get away with it if he avoids his parents until dinner.

Capella ends up stepping into his room, hands still behind her back, “I wanted to invite you out with Mira, Narcissa, and I, we’re going shopping and day drinking.” He frowns at the mention of Narcissa.

“Sorry, I’m gonna pass. Taking a long bath and catching up on some reading sounds more my speed.”

Capella giggles and walks back over to the door, “Mira told me you wouldn’t want to come if Narcissa was there, but I told him it wouldn’t hurt to try. Next time perhaps?” Would there be a next time, after he was disowned he never saw any of his family again, saving his brother before he graduated and Bellatrix right before he died? All his other family either fled the country or died. After spending his years in Azakaban, he was left with his least favorite members.

“Yeah, you could always write to me if you wanna spend time together.” Capella gives him one last smile and leaves. He huffs before going into his bathroom and getting ready for his morning routine.

When he leaves his room, his hair is in a top bun with some curls falling, and an outfit that fits for the rest of the day. He walks out of his room and goes to look for his uncle, the manor is enormous even with every single Black and any spouse, he doesn’t hear anyone around him.

After 30 minutes of searching, he isn’t able to find Alphard so he decides to go to the family library instead. Thankfully when he goes in there, no one else in the house is there. He goes into a back corner of the room and finds an open space, he sits down on the floor cross-legged. He takes out his journal that he’s writing in since he traveled back in time.

He’s written different things such as notes, thoughts, spells he wanted to try, and even things he didn’t want to forget from his previous life. He goes to a page where he wrote his latest spell on magical infusion. He’s still figuring out Hogwarts but figured he could try it here while he was in the family home. The manor was meant to protect his members so he probably won’t kill him. Probably.

This spell requires a white candle, so he gets the object out and uses his wand to lighten it. Closing his eyes for a moment he searches for the magic of the house and tries to grab a piece of it, it doesn’t take long to feel the magic. Opening his eyes again, he starts reading the spell.

Right of life, powerful in light.

Feeling my inner power alight,

Let me awaken this bright sight …

He can feel his magic slowly connecting with the magic of the house. He had never tried this before, so the feeling of so much power was almost numbing. The man who owned the illegal artifacts said that his magic was more refined. That sounds like a good thing.

Full concentration, he can do this.

It's almost like the magic is trying to cloud his head. He lets go with a gasp and closes his eyes, everything around him suddenly too bright. He didn’t die which is good but he doesn’t feel any different other than a fuzzy head. He stands on shaky legs and puts all his things back into his bag. He walks out of the library slowly, eyes still blurry.

He doesn’t notice someone walking up to him until they tap the top of his, “Been day drinking, Sirius?” His uncle asks good-humoredly.

He shakes his head, “Nope. Just enjoying the morning.”

His uncle raises an eyebrow, “Why are you moving so slowly? Eat something funny?”

“I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Hmm, well alright then lad, you go get something from the dining area, there should be lunch set out for anyone still in the house but most of everyone went out until dinner reaches time.”

“I’ll go do that uncle, thank you.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he passes by his uncle, heading for where the dining room is. When he gets downstairs, he knows that the main dining room is being prepared for dinner so he moves toward one of the smaller ones.

After he gets his food, he heads back upstairs and collapses into his bed, leaving his food on the desk without touching it.

He doesn’t even realize that he went back to sleep until he feels a banging on his door again He groans, wiping the drool off of his face before standing up, he rubs his eyes and notices that his vision has cleared back up. The loud knocking on his door continues and he opens it to catch his brother mid-knock.

Regulus blinks in surprise before he schools his features back into the mask he always keeps it in. His brother is dressed up, similar to how he looked the night before but not as elaborate.

“Sirius.” Regulus says as he scans over him, a small frown on his face, “You haven’t gotten dressed yet?”

He looks down at himself in confusion, “I am dressed, all I need to do is wash my face and touch up my hair-”

Regulus scoffs, barging into his room, “This is the Yule family dinner, you know better than to be dressed so casually.” He walks over to his closest and enters, going through the walk-in, “Did you even notice that mother and father bought you new outfits for this year, you have to wear one of these.”

He did not know they bought him new clothes, he’s wearing what he brought from their house. He steps in after his brother and sees him standing between two outfits, an emerald green and an azure blue. The green seemed tighter and form-fitting but the blue looked comfortable, not too casual.

“Do the green.” Regulus declares, reaching out for the material.

He smacks his brother’s hand away and goes for the blue instead, “Don’t choose for me, I like the blue anyway, it's more my color than green.” Regulus just rolls his eyes and exits the closet. His hand brushes over the material again and walks after his brother. He stops short when he sees his brother lying on his bed, one leg hanging off and an arm thrown over his face.

“Is there something else you need, Regulus?”

“Get dressed, Sirius. Father wanted us to come downstairs together but we don’t have that much time, hurry up.” His brother tells him without moving.

“I’m supposed to get dressed with you just laying there?”

“No dumbass, go into the bathroom.”

“You go into the bathroom, this is my room.” He clicks at him with an irritated tone, he doesn’t care about him being there but this is the most his brother has spoken to him since he told him to fuck off.

Regulus doesn’t respond and he rolls his eyes before walking into the bathroom to get dressed and clean up the dried drool he still had on his face. It only takes him about fifteen minutes to get ready and when he comes back into his room, Regulus hasn’t moved and he wonders if his brother fell asleep.

He tiptoes over and gently brushes his hair, whispering, “Exhausted, Love?” He teases.

Regulus raises like the dead, pushing him back with an unamused expression, “Personal space, thank you.” He gets off the bed and readjusts his robes, making sure he looks okay before he addresses him with a nod, “Let’s go, we’re about to be late.”

He crosses his arms and walks to the main dining area after his brother. When they arrive he sees their parents already sitting down, two chairs between them. He moves quickly so that he can get the seat next to his father and not his mother. Sliding in next to his father he pats the seat next to him, smirking at his brother who pushes his hand away. He feels more than see Orion and Walburga look over the both of them before looking away. His grandparents are the last ones to sit down before his grandfather nods over at his father.

With that signal, His father stands up and the entire table goes silent, as the head of the family, his father is supposed to have a speech about good fortune or whatever and then everyone says this weird chant where you promise to “always put the family first, and the magic alive” and then the house words and then you get to eat. Everyone makes polite conversation, dinner is over.

Deciding to drown out his father’s voice he goes through the motions of the family traditions. Feeling extra warm when the chant is spoken, eyes going fuzzy again before clearing up. When it's all over and done with. He lets the servers plate his food and quietly eats, usually no one talks to him during this time. His uncle was on the other side of the table, speaking with his parents and his aunt Lucretia and her husband. Capella and Mira were snickering with their siblings. Even Narcissa was speaking softly to his great aunt Dorea.

Well at least Regulus also had no one to speak with, his brother was scaping his fork across the plate, face blank.

“Sirius.” He looks over to see his grandmother, Melania, looking at him.

He straightens up and hums, “Yes, grandmother?”

“I didn’t get a chance to speak with you yesterday. How did you like your introduction?” I hated it.

He smiles serenely at her, both sets of his grandparents treated him and his brother well enough, old-fashioned and traditional but he never had any pressing issues with them. He still never fully trusted them all that well, seeing that his father was cold and emotionally unavailable and his mother was a crazy bitch.

He pushes a piece of hair out of his face, “It was nice.” Being paraded around like a prized donkey; super nice.

“This is only the beginning, Narcissa had an exceptional time with her introduction and came out of it very successful, I have no doubts that you will have the same results, Sirius.” His other grandmother, Irma chimes in.

At the mention of her name, Narcissa flashes a quick smile in Irma’s direction before turning her head away from her father’s stare to look back at Dorea, who looked interested in the conversation the older women started.

Dear lord, please stop this discussion, “All the prospects seemed very promising.” He states, hoping that will be the end of it.

Mira smirks, taking a sip from his wine glass, “Some more than others, I saw Sirius with a certain Greek heir, he might be your contender.” He teases with a glint in his eye. Sirius narrows his eyes at him, his cousin is only teasing but the words make him sound loose. Which he doesn’t care about but during family dinner…thank you, Mira.

Dorea waves her hand softly, shrugging, “A little too comfortable with a member of this family for first meetings,” She looks to him next, “You don’t need to pick the first person you meet, Sirius, you have plenty of time and plenty of offers. Plus if you are like Narcissa, you won’t meet your partner during your introduction season, it can always happen after.”

Bellatrix who has grown amused watching everything tilts her head with a look at her sister, “Yeah, Siri, you can always be like my sister. Knowing how you two always get your way. You'll have women and men flocking to your side.” Rodolphus lets out a quiet snort and Narcissa gives her sister a blank stare in return.

“Mind your manners, Bellatrix.” Her mother reprimands her, effectively shutting her down and forcing his cousin back to watching the conversation.

At this point, he’s lost his appetite and just waits for the whole thing to be over when his mother finally speaks up, “Sirius actually has a promising offer that I’ve looked into.”

He sees his father freeze before looking over at his mother, “Oh?” His father says calmly.

She nods, “Yes, I’ve told you about him, Lord Gillians from Romania. Wealthy investor in magical tomes.”

“He didn’t seem all that interested when I spoke with him yesterday.” He cuts in, he hates her so much. The fact she wants to push that man on him is sick even for her.

“Hmm, interesting. Well, I’ll look into him.” His father dismisses, going back to his meal.

“He’s already made an offer. A promising one, Sirius just needs to get used to the thought of him.”

He looks over at his mother, “Why would I need to get used to him?”

She doesn’t look over at him as she continues to speak with his father, “Hush, Sirius. He says that he would be eager to start up the process. Sirius could be married by the summer.”

His eyes go wide, “I-I don’t want-”

Walburga gives him a sharp look, “Be quiet.” She hisses before returning to look at his father, “Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

His father wipes his mouth before fully turning his head to her, “Not particularly, no. I don’t know who that is. Doesn’t sound too promising if he’s an unknown to better society.”

Walburga narrows her eyes, “He’s not unknown. He just keeps his dealings to his clientele-”

“Which means that he isn’t really worth my time if he hasn’t ventured out to meet me,” He raises his eyebrow at her, “Skipping straight to marrying my son without introducing yourself to me, sounds like he’s already crossed off the list.”

“Sirius is also my son, I get a say in who he marries.”

Sirius watches his father look at his mother, feeling a dark strand of magic creep out of him before he hums, the magic being shut away as if it was never there. Sirius looks at Regulus to see if he feels the same thing but his brother is as still as a muggle statue. Orion holds up himself in a more imposing way but not overly obvious, a glare on his face that is accompanied by a mocking smile, “Yes you are his mother, but if you’re making bad decisions from the start then there must be no need for you to continue on this venture, Walburga.”

His mother bristles in her seat, “You don’t get to tell me that I’m making a bad decision-”

His grandfather Pollux is the one to cut her off, “You two don’t need to get into an argument about this here.”

“This isn’t an argument, father. Orion and I are having a peaceful discussion about our children. Merlins knows that he cares about them so much.” She rolls her eyes.

“Yes, this is peaceful talk. Walburga only does this so that she can periodically insert herself when it comes to Sirius and Regulus so that she can feel she has a semblance of control.”

“Control? Well, what if I said that already made up the contract for Sirius and Lord Gillians?” She questions his father, daring him to challenge her.

That flair of magic from his father comes back out and knows his brother feels it this time, based on the slight flinch he lets out. He can tell even his mother can feel it, but she holds steady, “A contract? Without me knowing? Rethink yourself, Walburga.” Orion says darkly.

“I’m his mother!” She screeches.

“I. Don’t. Care.” He says forcefully yet softly, his gaze boring into hers, both of their magic flickering dangerously.

“Orion, Walburga. Both of you stop right this instance.” His grandfather, Arcturus says, “This argument is juvenile.”

His parents are still staring each other down, waiting to see who backs down first. He messes with his hands, wishing he had his rings on before taking a breath to speak up and end this hell of a dinner, “I don’t even want to be married.” He says.

“Sirius, we’ll talk about this later.” His father brushes him off

“But-”

“You don’t get to make that choice on what you want, boy.” His mother snaps at him.

He scoffs at her, “Why not? Why do both of you even care now what happens with me?”

“Sirius.” His father warns him.

His mother’s anger is now directed at him, “I’m tired of your constant disrespect, you’ve had your time to be rebellious but now you need to do as you’re told.”

“Or what? You’ll keep leaving me alone with perverted men who want to harass me!” At this, his mother stands up from her seat and slaps him across the face. His face goes numb and he can feel his brother jump back into him.

“I’ve had it with you!” Walburga yells at him, her face all red.

The silence in the room is excruciating, it doesn’t even sound like anyone is breathing and he’s too scared to look at the rest of the table. That’s what makes his father stand to his full height, slamming his hand on the table, the Lord’s ring on his hand making it echo over the room.

“Walburga. Go to my office.” He says listlessly. Walburga’s face has paled after seeing all the looks being thrown her way, she leaves without another word. Afraid of what her husband would do should she disobey.

After she leaves, Sirius can feel his father’s hand go to his shoulder, “Sirius, follow me.” He goes to stand, still hiding his face away from the family. He hears the chair beside him scrape, “Regulus, sit back down. I didn’t ask for you.” His brother slowly sits back down, quiet and withdrawn, and pushes his plate away from him.

“You all can continue the rest of dinner,” His father addresses the rest of the family before pulling him away. His head is still down and his cheek is still throbbing, he wants to know where his father is taking him but he just…doesn’t care anymore. He doesn’t care about anything anymore. He’s tired, hasn’t felt this tired since he was in Azkaban and freedom felt hopeless. Hasn’t felt this tired since he was forced to be back under Grimmuald place with his mother’s portrait screaming at him. Hasn’t felt this tired since he was asked to come back and make changes to his life without any help.

He doesn’t even realize that he’s in his father’s room of the manor until he’s sitting down on one of his desk chairs, bright lights assault his vision, his father places a hand under his chin and checks his face over. It’s silent between them, him sitting on one of the chairs in them and Orion looking at every inch of him.

“It’s gonna bruise, she hit you with her wedding ring.” He says quietly before stepping back, “I’ll have a healer check over in the morning, you and your brother will go home after and I’ll stay here for another day or so.”

“What about her?” He whispers.

“Don’t worry about her, I’ll deal with her.” He replies with a nonchalant tone.

He lets the quiet settle over him as his father walks around his room, grabbing something out of his cabinets before he speaks again, “You promised you wouldn’t let her do it again.”

Orion pauses in action before letting out a deep sigh, “Sirius-”

“When I was six years old and she hit me, you said you wouldn’t let her do it again. Said that purebloods don’t do things so unbecoming. You promised.” He hiccups, letting himself be upset over what happened at dinner, the numbness fading away and the pain creeping in.

“I did promise you. Obviously, your mother caught everyone off guard.” His father settles down in a chair across from him, “That’s why I said I’ll handle her, she’s starting to be more unstable and I’d hate for that to bleed in towards you and your brother.”

He laughs sardonically, “Oh yes, the Black madness. What if I already have it? Bellatrix does.”

Orion shrugs, “I don’t care about Bellatrix, she’s Cygnus’s problem, not mine.”

“You’re the head of the family, how is she not your problem?” He folds his arms over himself.

“Let me rephrase, she’s his problem until I have to step in, but if I have to step in, then Cygnus will have to deal with another daughter going away, and he doesn’t want that, which is why I’m watching him to see how he can handle her.”

“I’ll give you an answer, he can’t, especially if Voldemort is around her and Regulus.”

Orion lets out another sigh, “That is a situation that will not interfere with this family, Bellatrix is old enough to do that on her own and your brother promised me that it won’t become a problem.”

“Just like you promised she wouldn’t hit me anymore,” He says bitterly.

His father’s eyes narrow on him, “If I told you twice now that I was gonna handle it, then don’t keep questioning me on it.”

“She did it in front of everyone! That’s not something to look over, especially if she already has a marriage contract written for me.”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let your mother decide anything in this family, she believes that through our marriage she has the same power as me.”

He blinks at his father, “But what if something happens to you? What if you get sick and die before her? She gets control.” His father died six years before his mother, she had control then.

Orion shakes his head, “No, it would go to you and your brother, you’re almost of age so even if I passed early, which I wouldn’t because I’m perfectly healthy, then the magic would transfer. And even then I have a backup in place.”

“Who’s your backup?”

His father waves him off, “I’ll tell you later.” He stands up from his chair, petting his hair before moving past him, “I have to go settle your mother, you’re all fine now, yes?” He doesn’t look at him as he walks to the door.

“No I’m not fine, I don’t wanna get married for one!” His father stops in his tracks, looking at him with a questionable look.

“You did say that, hmm? I promise you that I’ll find you a good match and you won’t have to worry about anyone unjust marrying you.”

He groans, putting his face in his hands, “You’re not listening to me, I don’t want to get married, ever. I don’t care who it is. I don’t want to be tied down and shackled to some stranger for the benefit of the family.” He snaps.

His father gives him a blank stare, “It won’t be a stranger once we set up a meeting, Sirius. I don’t have time for the dramatics. We’ll speak when I get back home in a few days.” He opens the door and Manson stands on the other side diligently.

“Manson, escort Sirius back to his room and set up an appointment with one of the family healers to fix his face tomorrow. Pay them extra since it's the holiday season, also make sure it's discreet. I don’t need any whispers getting out.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Manson bows and his father leaves his room without another word to them. Sirius sighs and stands up, still holding himself tightly, he doesn’t wish to give Manson any trouble.

When makes it back to his room, Manson bows to him before quietly shutting the door with a click. He looks over at his and sees tea sitting there, raspberry ginger by the smell of it. And it’s being kept warm by a spell; his father’s doing. How the man can command things without being noticed is something he still isn’t able to pick up on.

He ignores the tea and sits down on his bed, “Gimsey.” His elf pops into the room, big eyes blinking up at him, “Sweetheart it's time for us to go.”

“To go?” She seems confused before letting out a squeak, “Oh yes! It’s time, we leave now?” He can understand her bemusement, they weren’t supposed to leave until they went back to Grimmuald. He can’t be here a moment longer.

“Yes, I need you to take these letters and drop them off, one of them is for my brother he has a gift along with it, and the other two are for my father and my uncle Alphard. Leave them in their rooms but make sure you aren’t seen. Come right back here and we’ll sneak out.” He instructs her.

Gimsey nods and after being handed the items given, she leaves with a pop. He stands up and takes off the blue outfit, starting to feel restricted. He moves to where most of his clothes are and changes into something comfortable. He fixes his hair into a high ponytail and goes to put on his rings, feeling more settled with them.

Gimsey comes back into his room as he’s shrinking his trunk and any other bags and placing them in his backpack. He does a little hop to make sure everything is in place and holds his hand out for Gimsey, “Climb up.”

Gimsey’s eyes go wide, “Climb? Where?”

He points to his back, “Sit on my back and wrap yours around me. We can’t use any of the floo’s around the manor and I don’t wanna apparate with you and all of my things, my nerves are too unsettled. We move on foot, and then we catch a cab or to where James is”

Gimsey still seems unsure but doesn’t question him again before she jumps up and settles on his back, “I’ll be invisie but I’ll still be here.” He can still feel her weight on him but when he passes by the mirror in his room, he can’t see her.

Walking out of his room, he moves quietly around the manor, avoiding the bedrooms and main rooms. He already knew his parents were in the Lord’s office so he had to go around that. It takes a bit of twisting and turning but he finally manages to make it to one of the back doors. 

Pushing up his back again, he jogs toward the sides just in case someone is looking. It’s when he finally reaches the borders of Black Manor, going toward the main road, and bursts into a run, pushing his legs as fast as he can. He doesn’t stop, running through the night under a blanket of stars, abandoning the black hole of his family behind him.

Chapter Text

He’s not fully on foot; the Potters did live more toward the heart of London, while the Black ancestral home was more in the countryside. Once he reached the main road, he flagged down a cab and traveled nearby where James and his parents lived, hidden by a concealment charm.

“Alright, here we go,” His driver tells him. He quietly thanks the man and pays him, ensuring he has all of his items and that Gimsey is secured on his back, and walks down the street to where James was. Any muggles wouldn’t be able to see the mansion, but he’s been queued into the wards since he first came to the Potter mansion.

He loved James’ home, which was built by the parents of James’ father and uncle, and it always had a warm and vibrant feel to it, always the opposite of any of Sirius’s family members. Wealthy Muggle estates surrounded the mansion so it wouldn’t be too overcrowded by any neighbors. It's not secluded but also not an easy find.

When he makes it to the front door, he takes a deep breath and knocks. He didn’t get an answer for a while, so he knocked again. It’s late, so Mia and Monty might be in bed, but James always has a habit of staying up when he has free time. He’s still standing there five minutes later, and the winter chill is starting to seep into his skin; it faintly reminds him of Azkaban, and that thought makes him bang on the door once more.

This time, it doesn’t take long for the door to open, and one of the house elves peeks behind the door, “How can we be of service?”

“My name is Sirius Black, I'm a friend of the Potters.” He says softly.

The elf's eyes go wide with recognition, and the door swings wider to let him in. “Oh, I remember you, you Master James’s friend.”

He nods and lets the warmth take in, “Yeah, that's me,” He adjusts his bag again, motioning for Gimsey to get down. She reappears in front of them, startling the Potter elf, “Sorry to spring this on you, but would you be so kind as to take in my personal elf? Her name is Gimsey, and she's the sweetest gem.”

The elf looks hesitant but moves closer to Gimsey, “Cabree would have to ask the Lord and Lady-”

“No worries, Cabree, Sirius is always welcome here. You just get his elf set up with the rest of you, and he can call her when need be.” The lovely voice of Euphemia Potter has spoken. He sees her standing behind them, dressed quite nicely. 

“Good evening, Mrs. Potter. I hope I wasn't interrupting.” He puts his hands around his back and angles his face away, avoiding eye contact with her.

“There you go being all formal again, you know we adore having you. Fleamont and I are having a small gathering with some friends of ours. James was down here, but he grew bored of being around a bunch of old people and went up to his room to entertain himself.” Mrs. Potter teases with a small chuckle.

He playfully rolls his eyes, “Well then, he wouldn't understand good company, you know I love parties.”

Euphemia lets out a delightful laugh and looks over to see Gimsey pop away with the Potter elf. He nods at that and takes his bag off, moving his shoulders until he doesn't feel as tense.

“You look exhausted, Sirius. Did your family drop you off?”

He shakes his head, keeping his face turned. “No, I walked for about half the way, then I took one of those Muggle cabs to get me into the city.” 

Mia gives him an unreadable expression, but she doesn't get to respond before the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs takes both of their attention. There is James, shining like the demigod he is, golden and wearing a knit wool jumper that fits him beautifully with a pair of brown trousers, socks covering his feet. 

“Padfoot!” He says with glee, “You're here.”

He hums in agreement, “Yep.” He says softly.

He feels James before he sees him, quickly being picked up and swept into a hug. He embraces James and closes his eyes as his head rests on the other's shoulder.

“Missed me that much?” He mumbled in his ear.

“Don't act like you didn't beg.” He says with a hand in James’s hair, scratching at his scalp, gaining another squeeze from the younger before being put down. 

“What a wonderful Christmas present for me, all wrapped u-” Prongs' cheerful tone cuts off when he sees his face, and it immediately darkens, “What the hell happened to your face?” He says coldly.

“James!” His mother gasps.

Prongs doesn’t look over at her, still glaring at him, “Answer me, Sirius.”

He sighs and gives James a soothing look, “It's not that bad-”

“Not that bad! Are you fucking kidding me! Stop lying!” The younger bites out, and he flinches, not out of fear but of exhaustion.

“James Fleamont Potter.” Euphemia hisses, “Mind yourself, that is not how we speak to guests. Apologize.”

James is bristling with anger, but he turns to his mother with a pleading expression, “Mum, look at his face.” Prongs sounds so defeated, and all that does is shatter something inside of himself. He never wants to hurt James; he's too pure to be hurt by the mess that is Sirius.

Mia sighs, but she doesn't let up on her severe tone, “I see his face.” She pauses as if she needs another look at him to make sure that he looks bad. His father did say it would bruise, but it can't be that bad...it stung, but it's not like his mother has the power to knock out a tooth or something. Maybe the Potters are just overly concerned.

“You still need to apologize.”

He and James make eye contact once again, and can see the shine behind those gold-rimmed glasses; another piece breaks away and shatters.

“I'm sorry, Padfoot.” Prongs now spoke in a low whisper, a stark contrast from his earlier yelling. He sounded so small.

His throat hurts as he tries to respond, “I'm fine, Prongs.”

The silence is loud, and all he can do is stare at James as the other watches his sock-covered feet, hair shadowing his face.

“I need to check in with your father. James, take Sirius, put some ice on his face, and get settled for the night. We'll speak with both of you tomorrow, unless your family is expecting you back, Sirius?” He sees James's fists clench, and he shakes his head before looking at the matriarch.

“No ma'am.” His mother might leave a scathing letter upon his disappearance, and even though his father requested him to go back home to the townhouse, he probably isn't too concerned anyway.

“Wonderful, well, go get some rest. The day has been long.” And with that, she twirls gracefully back into the room she came from, the voices and music still moving along pleasantly, not disturbed by his entrance. 

James is still standing away from him like a statue, “Prongs-” he calls out quietly. James shakes his head, moving closer to gently grab his hand and bring him upstairs to his bedroom and into his bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet seat.

“Wait here.” He's told, but the other is still not looking at him. He plays with the rings on his hands to avoid pulling out his hair. Soon, he hears James come back with ice, a towel, and a large bandaid. “This is what we had on short notice, Mum said if you wanted to call a healer out tomorrow, she could.”

“Uh, no thanks, I really don't think it's that bad.” James freezes and finally looks back up at him, eyes red and angry.

“It is that bad, Sirius. Half your face is swollen, and the bruise has a cut on it.” He says in a monotone.

“...it does?” He says hesitantly.

James sighs, “Yes, it does. May I please clean it?”

“You don't have to ask.”

He shrugs and gets to work, “I was wrong in how I spoke to you. I don't want to push past your boundaries.”

“You know there aren't any boundaries between the two of us.”

“Honestly, I don't know where I stand with you, Sirius.” He jerks back when he hears that statement.

“What?” He says in disbelief, “How could you ever say that?”  

James puts the towel down and looks up at him with a sad expression, “What else can I say, Padfoot? This entire year has been hell for me. I feel like I keep reaching for you, and you keep pulling away. I asked you at the station, no, I pleaded for you to tell me if they hurt you, and you told me straight to my face that it was unbecoming of a pureblood to physically harm you. Why did you lie?”

Sirius froze, then dropped the towel with a sigh. “I didn’t exactly lie. Just… not the whole truth.”

James’s eyes went hard, and Sirius rushed on. “My family doesn’t do bruises and beatings. That’s beneath them. But my mother—she’s always been cruel.” He hesitated, then reached across, catching James’s hand like he could anchor himself there. “Thing is… I didn’t even know her until I was five.”

James frowned, thrown off. “What are you on about? Is she not your mum?”

“She is. But she wasn’t… around.” Sirius’s voice softened, uncertain in a way James rarely heard. “It was just my father and the staff raising us. Regulus and I—our life made sense. Until suddenly, right after I turned five, she appeared. My father told us she wanted to ‘be part of the family now.’ Like she’d decided we were worth her time. He looked...Merlin, he looked irritated. But it wasn’t his choice. My grandparents, they’d pushed her and him into it. Decided it was time she start playing mother.”

James’s grip tightened, thumb brushing Sirius’s knuckles. “So she just… forced herself in.”

“Exactly.” Sirius laughed bitterly. “And when she did, she made everything hers. Our lessons, the house, the rules. My father stopped being there the way he used to be—buried himself in work instead.”

James tilted his head, hazel eyes sharp and sad at once. “And you? What happened to you?”

Sirius let out a shaky breath. “When I was six, I broke one of her precious ornaments. She lost it—screamed until my ears rang, then she hit me. For the first time in my life, someone had struck me. I didn’t even think of her as my mother. I just ran to the only parent I knew. Found my father in his study and cried that the ‘bad lady’ had hurt me.” His lips twisted. “He was furious. Promised she wouldn’t touch me again. And she didn’t. Not until tonight.”

James’s jaw clenched, gaze fixed on the dark mark at Sirius’s jaw. “So she waited until she could humiliate you. In front of everyone.”

“Yes and no.” Sirius’s laugh was hollow, sharp around the edges. “She wasn't trying to do that in front of anyone, which makes her look bad because of how many witnesses there were. But that was the real sting, James. Not the hit. The show of it. Like she was reminding me, reminding everyone, that she could. Right in the middle of talking about arranging my marriage, no less.”

James’s head snapped up. “Marriage? Who the hell is she trying to marry you off to?”

Sirius avoided his eyes, wandering to the mirror instead. The bruise looked worse than it felt, a blackened brand across his pale skin. His reflection scowled back. Behind him, James was still watching, chest heaving, hands flexing as though he wanted to smash something but settled for standing there, aching for his friend.

“I'm not getting married; my family is just stupid and traditional. They want me to get married, but I'm only seventeen. I want to have fun and enjoy life, not just be someone's trophy, going to teas where all of them hate me because I'm the best looking one there, and I refuse to be fucking boring.”

“So they gave you options?”

“There was an entire ball dedicated to showing me off the previous night, of course, there were options. All sorts of wealthy sons and daughters of different pedigrees are being introduced to me, wanting my hand. I felt so icky.”

James comes back into view, pulling him into a hug and rubbing his back comfortably, “Well, that's a relief, none of them would be good enough for you anyway; all boring.”

He hums, “There was this one hot guy. Professional athlete, Greek. I considered him.”

James stops rubbing his back but still keeps holding him, “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yeah, for a little bit, he wasn't looking into marriage so early on in his career, but he said we could've had an agreement that kept us both satisfied.” He shrugs, “Still don't wanna get married though.”

James is quiet for a moment before speaking up, “What else happened?”

“My stupid mother came and took me away to introduce me to some gross old man who wanted to take me to Romania. I called her out for it during dinner, and she gets mad at me and hits me,” He says bitterly. 

James pushes him back to look him in the eye, “And you promise that these are the only times she has hit you. That anyone hit you?”

“Well, I did just get into an almost fight with Narcissa; she threw a pair of ugly heels at my head, but no damage was done.”

“Okay.” Prongs says slowly, “And your mother?”

“Those were the only times she hit me…”

“I feel like you're leaving something out.”

He groans, “Plenty of times she would poke or pinch me, I guess to keep me in line, I didn't really care. More uncomfortable than painful.” He shrugs.

“Still considered abuse, but okay, and there's nothing else? No more secrets?” Well, there is the time travel, but that will just make him sound crazy.

“Nope, no more secrets.” He leaned in until his forehead rested against James’s, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes. Sirius softened his voice. “Now, can we go to sleep?”

For some reason, James’s breath hitched. A quiet gasp escaped him, and he just… stared.

Sirius blinked. He’d expected a laugh, maybe a sarcastic remark. Not this dazed silence.

“James?” he prompted, brows knitting together.

That seemed to shake him loose. James blinked fast, stammering, “Huh? Uh yeah. Sure, Pads. But let me get your face fixed up first.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, too tired to push. “I’m too tired. Do it while I go to sleep.” He padded back into the bedroom, sinking into the bed like his bones had turned to lead. The pillow was cool against his cheek, and he sighed, already half gone to sleep.

Behind him, James murmured something—“I guess I can, I promise I’ll be gentle” and Sirius snorted, eyes still shut. “That’s what he said.”

James lets out a boisterous laugh, sinking in beside him, “Shut up and go to sleep. We're having official holiday fun after tonight.”

He doesn't respond, already consumed by sleep.

When Sirius wakes up the next day, he's wrapped up in a James blanket, soft snores in his ear. He touches his face and feels the outline of the bandage. He goes to get up and only gets a groan from James in return, “No let's sleep longer, baby.”

“I wanna take a shower. Let go.”

“No.”

“James, stop being annoying. I trekked halfway through London last night. I deserve a shower.”

“Can't you just wait until I get up?”

“You're up now, Weirdo! Let go!” Using more force to get the younger one off of him. Finally free, he makes his way over to where his bag is.

“Wear my clothes, Siri.” He hears the other call out.

“Why in the world would I wear your gross-ass clothes?”

“My clothes aren't gross; my mother would kill me if I were gross in any way.” James sounds scandalized as he speaks to him, “C'mon, just wear a shirt at least, I wanna see you wearing my shirt…for protection.”

“Protection.” He responds blandly.

There's a pause before Prongs speaks again, “Yep, it will make me feel better if you wear my clothes.” He says happily. 

He sighs, “I will agree to the shirt, but I ain't putting on any pants, you're fatter than me, remember? I'm not sticking my delicate legs through your tree trunk pants.”

“Wow, you wound me.” James doesn't sound hurt at all; he sounds like he was falling back to sleep.

He goes to grab a pair of pants from his bag and then snags a jumper from James’s closet, along with a pair of his fuzzy socks, because why not?

After a refreshing morning routine, Sirius checked his swollen face in the mirror and wondered if he should owl a healer. He was still weighing it when the door creaked open and James shuffled in, hair sticking up in every direction, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

He froze at the sight of Sirius. That smirk slid across his mouth, sharp and knowing.

“What?” Sirius demanded, wary.

“Oh, nothing,” James drawled, already striding closer, “just thinking how good you look…and how much I want to bite you again.”

Sirius groaned. “Not this again. What are you, a cannibal?”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just irresistible.” James’ grin widened. “You smell incredible.”

“I took a bath.”

“And you look soft. Smooth.”

“I moisturize!” Sirius snapped, throwing his hands up. “Stop being weird.”

“Just one nibble. No more.” James caught his wrist, thumb circling the delicate skin there.

“You’re lying,” Sirius muttered, heat crawling up his neck.

“You’re overthinking.” James leaned in, his voice dropping lower, heavier. “Not everything has to be a big deal.” His mouth quirked. “If you want to bite me back, I won’t complain.”

Sirius snorted, trying to ignore the way the words made his stomach flip. “I’ll pass,” he muttered. Then, with a resigned breath, “Fine. Get it over with.”

“Thank you, angel.” James’ eyes glinted. “Now hop on the counter.”

“Excuse you?” Sirius barked.

“We’re too close in height. I need your neck.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Still, Sirius found himself perched on the counter, legs dangling. James stepped into the space between them, a hand firm at his waist. Sirius’ breath caught before he could smother it.

James ducked his head and bit. Not sharp enough to hurt, just enough to make Sirius’ lips part and let out a sigh, a shiver running through him. Then James lingered. His mouth moved, sucking lightly, tongue soothing over the mark. He pressed a kiss there, then another just below the jaw.

Sirius’ fingers clenched in his shirt.

“Prongs,” he rasped.

James only hummed, lips brushing lower, catching at his pulse. His free hand splayed over Sirius’ thigh, steadying him, but his thumb dragged in slow circles that made Sirius’ thoughts scatter.

It was too much. It was not a game anymore.

“James.” Sirius shoved at his shoulders, harder this time. “Stop. Now.”

James froze, breathing ragged against his skin. Then he pulled back, eyes glazed, mouth reddened from where he’d kissed and licked. For a second, he looked like he might close the space again. Instead, he stepped back, dragging a hand through his hair, gaze darting anywhere but Sirius’ face.

Sirius sat there on the counter, chest heaving, throat hot and wet. Every nerve in his body screamed for more, and he hated himself for it.

He clears his throat and hops down from his perch, “No more biting.” And leaves the bedroom altogether, rushing downstairs. 

What the fuck was that? Biting shouldn't be turned into groping? It wasn't too sexual. Actually, it wasn't at all; he's thinking too much into this. Friends can do somewhat indecent activities without it being a big deal. James is in love with Lily; it has always been Lily. There's concrete proof, he was at their wedding, he saw their baby…this is not a problem, everything is fine. Prongs has a biting problem, and he's just all pent up because he's trying not to go mentally insane from destroying the timeline! James is attractive, and his body was just having a natural reaction to being held differently. They could kiss, and it wouldn’t make any difference to their relationship; they've always been close. This is not a problem, this is not a problem. Maybe it's time to hook up with someone and get his body back in line with his mind. Stop thinking about this; this is not a problem. No more biting, it's weird, no more, yuck. Yep, this is just because they're close and doing stuff like this on-brand for them. James is just being protective, and the biting helps his four eyes feel better. He's such a good friend.  

“Sirius?” He stops as he walks into the dining room and sees the Potter parents looking at him, “You're all red, dear, are you feeling unwell?”

“Um, yeah, just had a nice hot shower,” He stretches his arms up, “Slept great by the way, five stars as usual.” He goes to an open seat and starts to plate his food.

Mr. Potter drinks his morning coffee, “We know how much James likes having you around. We enjoy having you.”

“Also, you make sure James doesn't get into trouble, have to thank you for that.” Mrs. Potter adds on. He chuckles at the statement; he’s always been down to spur James on when it comes to trouble.

As he's eating, Mia calls out to him, “Oh, Sirius, I almost forgot. A letter came for you. It has your family crest on it, but I don't know who it's from.

He grimaces and puts down his fork, reaching his hand out for the letter and quietly thanking her in return as he opens it. Well, his family sure works fast when it comes to officially disowning him. 

Sirius,

I'm going to be at The Winstonian for lunch. I expect to see you there.

-Orion Arcturus Black

He re-reads the letter to see if that was all, but there was no more. 

His father requested (demanded) to see him. How different from last time…but he didn't leave this way either. He never went to Black Manor last time; he wasn't introduced as a possible marriage prospect. He was a lost cause to them. Orion didn't care, and Walburga quickly zapped his name off the family tree.

“Is it bad news, dear?” Mia asks him.

He looks back up at the elder Potters and shakes his head, tucking the letter away in a pocket, “Not at all, I'm meeting my father for lunch.”

The two of them blink at him before nodding along, not showing anything else but pleasant smiles. “Well, that's good to hear.”

He feels a slight pinch on his cheek in a teasing manner, “What's good to hear?” The missing Potter son asks his father as he sits down next to him.

“I'm meeting with my father today.” He cuts in, waiting for his friend's response. 

James' carefree attitude slows down, and while he still keeps a smile on his face, he looks back at him with irritated eyes, “How…nice.”

“James, remember what we spoke about last night,” Fleamont tells his son.

“I remember.” And that cuts off all discussion at the table, and now Sirius feels like he caused a problem for the Potters during Yuletide. Sure, his family is allowed to be miserable during festivities, but not the Potters; that just feels wrong.

Clearing his throat, he gains the attention of the family, “I do appreciate you having me in your home.” 

“Oh, Sirius! No need to be thankful. You're fun to be around, like a beacon of youth.” Euphemia says to him, and he blushes at the statement and feels the tension in the room lessen. James doesn't look away from his plate. He finished breakfast quickly before running upstairs to change into a different top; the one he had borrowed from James was too casual to meet his father.

The Winstonian was an upscale restaurant for wizards that was surrounded by other upscale restaurants and shops; half of the places wouldn’t even let you in if you didn't have the money to spend. The last time he can remember being here was with Mir and his sister; he forgot why he went, but the food wasn't too bad.

Double-checking himself in the mirror, he let Gimsey know to tell the Potters that he had departed through the floo.

Walking up to the host, Sirius cleared his throat. “I’m here to meet with my father. Lord Black.”

The host’s demeanor shifted instantly — respectful, but cautious, as though even speaking the name carried risk. “This way, sir.”

They ascended to the upper level, where the air was hushed and heavy, tables draped in velvet cloth, polished silver glinting under chandeliers. At the far corner, Orion sat alone, a glass of something amber at his elbow, cigar smoke curling above him like incense. He didn’t look up when Sirius was shown to his seat.

The silence gnawed immediately. Sirius adjusted in the plush chair, eyes flicking to the gilded mirrors, the restrained luxury of it all — a stage his father knew how to command.

“Father,” Sirius finally ventured, “if this is about the family’s latest scandal, I assure you I already know I'm the villain of that story.”

Orion exhaled smoke, slow, deliberate. His voice came low, measured. “This isn’t about scandal. This is about you.”

Sirius forced a grin. “My favorite subject. At least we’re not here to critique my sweater.”

At last, Orion turned, those dark eyes fixing on him with a weight that pressed into Sirius’ chest. “Your clothing is irrelevant. Your choices, however—” his gaze sharpened—“those will destroy you if you keep on this path.”

Sirius leaned forward, jaw tight. “You mean leaving? Choosing something other than the Black script? Don’t pretend you didn’t see it coming.”

His father’s lip curled faintly, not quite a sneer, but close. “I saw it. And I let it happen. A mistake, perhaps. You mistake your rebellion for strength when it is only indulgence.”

The words hit sharper than Sirius wanted them to. “Indulgence? Wanting freedom is indulgence now?”

“Freedom,” Orion repeated, as if tasting the word and finding it bitter. “You don’t yet understand what that costs. Or what are its risks? I’ve seen what happens when men chase after ideals. They end up broken. Or dead.”

Sirius bit back the urge to laugh. “Better that than shriveling into a title and an heirloom name.”

Orion’s eyes flickered — not anger, but something harder to read, a shadow Sirius had rarely glimpsed. “You think me blind, boy? You think I don’t see the cracks in this world? Why do you think I smoke and drink in silence rather than waste breath on your mother’s… games?”

The admission startled Sirius, but before he could press, Orion leaned back, mask snapping into place.

“You’ve turned your back on your legacy. And legacy,” Orion said coolly, “is all that outlives us.”

Sirius’ throat tightened. “Legacy. Family. Blood purity. You cling to them like lifelines, but they’re just chains.”

The silence that followed was heavier than any shouting. Orion tapped ash into the tray, the sound sharp in the hush.

Then, with a glance toward the window, he spoke again, voice low. “You want honesty? You want to know why I never… softened?” His gaze cut back to Sirius. “Because love is weakness in a world that devours the weak. And I will not feed my sons to that hunger.”

For once, Sirius had no quip ready. He sat there, pulse thudding, realizing that was as close to love as he’d ever get from Orion Black — protection cloaked as cruelty.

Sirius swallowed, forcing words past the lump in his throat. “Then tell me, if you’re so intent on protecting us, what happened between you and Mother?”

Orion’s expression shuttered. He ground the cigar out with deliberate care. “Nothing worth discussing.”

And just like that, the door closed again.

Sirius leaned back, simmering with frustration and hollow curiosity. Neutral ground, perhaps. But not safe ground. Never safe.

“So Mother’s at home then?” he asked finally, voice tight.

Orion’s eyes slid to him, calm as ever. “I never said that. She’s… being cared for. A private facility in France.”

Sirius’ jaw clenched. “Since when?”

“Last Night. Since she became… difficult to manage. They know how to deal with her moods there.” He gestured for a server without breaking eye contact. “It’s peaceful. Discreet. The best money can buy.”

The casualness in his tone made Sirius’ skin crawl. He didn’t push; he’d learned long ago that direct questions only earned walls.

Instead, Orion shifted, as if the subject were closed. “Speaking of… I came into some new holdings. Rare tomes, an artifact collection, nothing worth keeping. I moved them quickly and turned a profit. The previous owner became... disposable and i saw use in the venture.”

It sounded like a throwaway statement, but Sirius’s instincts prickled. Orion never spoke idly. He knew who those “artifacts” had belonged to — and why he was pretending the sale was ordinary.

“Can we not talk about your latest conquest of the ledger?” Sirius muttered. “What about Regulus? Is he—”

“At home,” Orion cut in smoothly. “You left him a letter, didn’t you? Perhaps you should try again with something better than ink and arrogance.”

Sirius’ lips parted, stung. “I haven’t reached out again yet. I was hoping he would respond to what I left him.”

“Hm,” Orion said, as if that confirmed something. He sipped his drink. “You should.”

The table felt suddenly too small, Sirius’ irritation pressing against the silence. “Why are you acting so bloody careless about all of this?”

Orion’s brow arched, unimpressed. “Careless?” His tone was mild, but the word hung sharp between them.

“Yes! Dumping her away like some problem to be solved, talking about your shady deals, and tossing Regulus into my lap like—” He broke off, aware of the stares from other tables.

Orion didn’t flinch. He set down his glass deliberately. “Calm yourself, Sirius. You forget where you are.”

Sirius’ face burned. He dragged his hands down it, forcing his voice lower. “Feels like you’re trying to get under my skin.”

“I don’t need to try,” Orion said coolly. Then, after a pause, “I didn’t summon you here to quarrel. I came because, on the rare occasion, I expect you to listen.”

Sirius let out a bitter laugh. “Listen to what? Legacy sermons? Black family commandments?”

“No,” Orion said again, flat. “To listen. Full stop.”

That threw Sirius for a beat, though he hated himself for it. He searched his father’s face, trying to crack the mask, but all he found was that maddening composure.

“Stay in contact,” Orion said, softer now, though no less commanding. “If I send word, answer. That’s all.”

The weight of it hung there, heavy with implication Sirius couldn’t parse. He hesitated, then muttered, “I’ll think about it.”

Orion inclined his head, finishing his drink like that settled the matter. “Good. And if you do speak with your brother, don’t wait too long. Time isn’t something we control.”

The words landed like a stone in Sirius’ gut. He stood abruptly, desperate for air. “The Potters will be wondering where I am.”

Orion didn’t stop him. “Take care, Sirius.”

Outside, the night air bit into his face, sharp enough to make him shiver. He hated how it almost felt like an escape.

The conversation leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but somewhere beneath the anger and frustration, there’s a seed of something else—uncertainty, maybe even possibility. He shoves it down for now, focusing instead on the road ahead.

Sirius had barely set foot in the foyer when Cabree, one of the Potter elves, appeared with a pop. The little elf bowed low, her large eyes darting up at him.

“Master Sirius, Madam Euphemia wishes to see you in the tea room.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Of course. Thanks, Cabree.”

The elf vanished as quickly as she came, and Sirius straightened his coat, brushing off the lingering chill from outside. He wasn’t one to say no to Euphemia Potter, not because she demanded it, but because she’d earned his respect in a way few adults ever had. She was nothing like Walburga Black. Where his mother was cold, controlling, and prone to vitriol, Euphemia was warm, thoughtful, and carried herself with a quiet strength that made Sirius feel seen rather than scrutinized.

The tea room was a bright, cozy space with wide windows overlooking the frosty gardens. Euphemia was already seated in one of the elegant armchairs, a teapot and two cups waiting on the small table in front of her. She looked up as Sirius entered, her face lighting up with a smile.

“Sirius, dear. Come, sit.” She gestured to the chair across from her.

He obeyed, a little stiffly, but not out of discomfort—it was simply a habit he’d picked up from years of formal dinners and etiquette lessons. He relaxed slightly as she poured him a cup of tea, sliding it across the table with effortless grace.

“Thanks, Mrs. Potter.”

“Euphemia,” she corrected gently. “You’re practically family, Sirius. No need for all that formality.”

He gave her a small smile, lifting the cup. “Old habits die hard.”

She chuckled, studying him over the rim of her cup. “How are you, really? And none of that ‘I’m fine’ nonsense you tell everyone else.”

Sirius hesitated, the familiar urge to deflect rising in his chest. But Euphemia’s gaze was steady, inviting but not prying, and he found himself softening.

“I’m... managing,” he said finally, setting his cup down. “It’s been a long few days.”

She nodded as if that were an answer enough. “I thought as much. You’ve had a lot on your plate lately. It’s no small thing, making the decisions you’ve made.”

He blinked, caught off guard by the understanding in her tone. “I didn’t think I had much of a choice.”

“There’s always a choice, Sirius,” she said. “But you’ve chosen to walk a difficult path. That takes courage, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

Sirius frowned slightly, her words settling uncomfortably in his chest. He wasn’t sure he deserved praise for his choices, not when they felt more like survival than bravery.

“You’ve made a good home here,” he said instead, his voice quieter. “It’s... different. Comfortable.”

Euphemia smiled warmly. “That’s what home should be, don’t you think? A place where you can breathe.”

He nodded, unsure how to respond. The contrast between this home and Grimmauld Place was staggering. Here, there were no heavy silences, no sharp words lurking behind every corner. Just warmth, light, and an unspoken sense of safety.

“James said you’re staying for Christmas?” she asked after a moment.

“Yeah, if that’s still alright. I can keep out of the way—”

“Nonsense.” She waved a hand, cutting him off. “You’re family, Sirius. Stay as long as you like.”

He looked down at his tea, a faint heat creeping into his cheeks. Euphemia had a way of making him feel unguarded, like he didn’t have to constantly fight to prove himself. It was... unsettling, but not unwelcome.

“I appreciate that,” he said finally, meeting her eyes. “Thank you, Euphemia.”

Her smile widened, and for a moment, Sirius felt something unfamiliar, like he belonged.

“Well,” she said, rising gracefully to her feet. “I won’t keep you. I imagine James is sulking upstairs, waiting for you to entertain him.”

Sirius snorted, standing as well. “That sounds about right.”

“Just remember,” she said, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder, “you’re not alone, Sirius. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”

He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As he left the tea room, the warmth of her words lingered, like a small flame against the cold that always seemed to follow him. Sirius wasn’t sure what he was doing or where he was going, but for now, at least, he knew there was a place where he didn’t have to have all the answers. And that was enough.

Sirius spends the rest of the day in his room trying to take a nap. He’s hoping that he can sleep away all the stress of his family and the meeting with his father. He wants to see Regulus, but that probably isn't gonna happen until he goes back to Hogwarts and starts the same song and dance of stalking his sibling and being avoided. Sirius is frustrated; he feels that every time he thinks he has a step ahead, he falls back again. This is bullshit.

He is also trying to write in his journal and keep track of what has happened so far and whether anything happens soon, but honestly, at this point, does it matter? So much has changed. He might as well just chug a whole bottle of firewhiskey and walk up to the dark lord’s headquarters and be done with the bastard, save everyone the trouble.

Sirius lay sprawled on the bed, staring at the ceiling like it might cough up answers about time travel. All it ever gave him was silence. His notebook lay where he’d hurled it, a crumpled page sticking out like a sneer. Of course, that’s when the knock came.

“Padfoot? It’s me.”

“Unavailable,” Sirius called flatly. “Try again later.”

A pause, then James’s voice, softer but stubborn: “I’m not leaving.” The sound of someone sliding down against the other side of the door. “So either you open up, or you’ve got a roommate tonight.”

Sirius groaned, dragging himself up and yanking the door wide. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, turning his back and flopping onto the bed again.

James slipped in, shutting the door behind him. He looked awkward for once, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Pads… about this morning—”

“Nope.” Sirius propped himself on his elbows, tone sharp. “We’re not doing that.”

“I just—”

“You bit me, James. It’s not exactly tea-table conversation.”

James winced, then smirked faintly. “You didn’t exactly stop me straight away.”

Heat pricked Sirius’s neck. “I was stunned stupid by your teeth in my jugular, pardon me.”

That earned a laugh, low and nervous, and then James sobered. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I keep looking at you and...Merlin, it’s like I’m not myself.”

Sirius arched a brow, masking the way his pulse jumped. “Then do us both a favor and get back to being yourself.”

James stepped closer, searching his face. “And if I don’t want to?”

The air thickened. Sirius held his gaze, then forced a crooked smile. “Then you’re more messed up than I thought. Because this—” he tapped the fading bruise at his throat, “—can’t happen again.”

James didn’t answer right away. His jaw worked, like he wanted to argue, but instead he muttered, “You’re important to me, Pads. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, quieter now. “Too important for us to play stupid games.”

They stared at each other, neither moving. Sirius could feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on his chest, a suffocating silence stretched tight between them. James’s gaze flicked down, just for a second, to the faint bruise on his neck, and Sirius swore he saw his friend’s throat work like he was fighting himself.

“Don’t,” Sirius warned softly, even though James hadn’t moved.

“Didn’t say anything,” James replied, but his voice had gone low, rough.

“Didn’t have to.”

For a beat, neither of them breathed properly. James stepped closer, not enough to touch but enough that Sirius could smell smoke and soap clinging to him, familiar and dangerous all at once. Sirius’s fingers twitched on the sheets, wanting to fist into that ridiculous hair, pull him down—

No. Absolutely not.

He forced a sharp laugh instead, breaking the moment. “You’re going to make things bloody unbearable if you keep looking at me like that.”

James blinked, color rising on his cheekbones. “Like what?”

“Like you’ve lost your mind,” Sirius shot back, though his voice cracked traitorously at the end.

James dragged a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath, then shook his head like he was shaking himself awake. “Right. I’ll… go then.”

Sirius leaned back on his elbows, trying to smirk, trying to make it casual. “Do,” he said, but the word came out low, lacking bite, sounding far too much like disappointment.

James lingered at the door, one hand on the knob, his shoulders tense. He turned just enough to meet Sirius’s eyes again, gaze flickering with something he couldn’t name, something Sirius didn’t dare name. “Goodnight, Pads,” he said finally, voice uneven.

The door clicked shut, leaving Sirius with his own pulse hammering in his throat. He let out a breath that was almost a laugh, almost a curse, then collapsed back against the pillows.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, the ceiling staring back at him like it knew exactly what kind of trouble he was in.

He’d handled it. They’d go back to normal. They had to. But as he lay back down, staring at the ceiling once more, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in his gut. James was his best friend. He couldn’t lose him. But Sirius had learned the hard way that some lines, once crossed, were hard to uncross.

Chapter Text

Dear Sirius,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, or at least in tolerable spirits. I imagine spending Christmas with the Potters must be vastly different from the traditions of your ancestral home, though I suspect their festivities are far less... suffocating. Euphemia Potter seems like the sort of person who would charm the pudding to sing carols, and I hope you let her. It would be good for you to laugh, I think.

I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other day, or rather, what you didn’t ask but hinted at. I mean no offense, of course, but it’s clear you’ve spent most of your life fighting against what others want you to be. Now that you’ve broken free, you’re left staring into the void of what comes next. How daunting.

But here’s the thing about voids, Sirius: they’re not empty. They’re full of possibility, swirling with potential. The tricky part is choosing which bits to reach for, and knowing that it’s okay if you don’t grab all the right ones at once.

Who do you want to be? Maybe that’s the wrong question. Maybe it’s simpler than that. What do you want? Forget your parents, forget your house, forget the upcoming war. Forget even James Potter for a moment. What do you want, Sirius Black?

Whatever it is, it doesn’t have to be grand or world-changing. It just has to matter to you. And if you’re not sure yet, that’s alright. You have time to figure it out. More than you think, I’d wager.

One last thing, Sirius: you don’t have to be who they want you to be, but you also don’t have to be the opposite just to spite them. 

Warm regards,
Xenophilius Lovegood

It had dawned on Sirius why he would be sending a letter to Lovegood of all people? Well, it's not like Sirius poured his heart out to the other boy. All Sirius did was send him a letter saying happy holidays, and he found life dull. Kinda bleak to add on a Christmas letter, but he knew Lovegood would appreciate the humor of it all, and he appreciates this lengthy response of his.

But it does bring some insight into his predicament; he needs to stop being negative and start taking action. He has done some good, not destroyed anything, and he and James are acting like it's always been. They leave for Hogwarts in the morning, and Sirius is all packed. He hasn't heard back from his brother, but that’s fine, nothing to worry about, and his father hasn't tried to reach out to him again, and honestly, his main focus isn’t on anyone in his family except Regulus. He got out of there mostly unharmed, so all is well.

Sirius stood by the door of the Potter home, his trunk neatly packed and leaning against the wall. He had risen early, a habit deeply ingrained from years of having to anticipate sudden departures under his parents’ rigid expectations. Despite his surroundings being far kinder now, the instinct lingered. The soft hum of the Potters’ enchanted grandfather clock marked the passing minutes, and Sirius’s gaze flicked toward it.

James, predictably, was nowhere near ready.

Sirius clenched his jaw, his fingers twitching against the strap of his bag. It wasn’t enough to truly irritate him, James being slow was as predictable as the sunrise, but the steady tick of time carried an edge of unease. His goddamn Black upbringing, that needed to be precisely on time or face consequences, made it hard to let go.

“Honestly, where is that boy?” Euphemia Potter’s soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. She descended the staircase with the regal ease of someone who never needed to rush, though her warm eyes immediately softened when they landed on Sirius. “You’re ready, as I knew you would be.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sirius replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “James, on the other hand…”

Euphemia’s laugh was light, like a bell. “My boy could procrastinate the world ending. Don’t you worry, dear, I’ll handle him.” She gave him a wink before calling upstairs. “Fleamont! Go see what’s keeping James. They’ll miss the train at this rate!”

A muffled groan sounded from above, and then Fleamont Potter’s voice echoed down. “James! Move it, or I’m leaving without you! And I’ll take your broom as my own!”

There was a thud, followed by James’s dramatic yell. “I’m coming, I’m coming! Merlin, the pressure!”

Sirius huffed a quiet laugh despite himself, feeling an odd sense of relief as Euphemia turned back to him.

“See? Problem solved.” She stepped closer, reaching out to gently adjust his scarf, a motherly gesture he hadn’t expected but didn’t shy away from. “No need to look so tense, dear. You’re here now, not there.”

“I know,” Sirius murmured, and he meant it. Still, the tension didn’t fully leave him, but the effort, her effort, meant more than he could put into words.

Soon enough, James barreled down the stairs, his trunk haphazardly packed, a piece of toast hanging from his mouth. “All ready!” he said around the toast, earning a stern but fond look from Euphemia.

“You’ll be ready when your trunk is closed properly,” she replied, her wand flicking to secure the undone latch. “Now, out the door with you two. Fleamont, don’t dawdle!”

The chaos was familiar and warm, and Sirius found himself relaxing slightly as they hurried themselves to King’s Cross.

The return to Hogwarts was as noisy and bustling as ever, the second semester kicking off with renewed energy. Snow still dusted the grounds, though it was starting to melt, leaving slushy paths that students trod with varying degrees of grace. Inside, the warmth of the Great Hall beckoned, and Sirius couldn’t help the faint grin that tugged at his lips as they crossed the threshold.

“Finally back,” James declared, stretching his arms wide as though the castle was personally welcoming him. “Miss me, Hogwarts?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m sure the walls wept for you daily, Prongs.”

“Naturally.” James grinned, elbowing Sirius. “You agree, don’t you, Pads? You probably cried on your way out last term.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Sirius replied dryly. “It was devastating to leave the drafty corridors and Peeves’ constant harassment.”

“That’s the spirit!” James said, oblivious to the sarcasm.

The group moved through the crowd, finding their usual seats at the Gryffindor table. Talk of the upcoming term, OWLS, buzzed around them, the mood teetering between excitement and dread.

“Right, we’re officially halfway through,” Remus said, pulling out his planner. “If any of you actually want to pass your OWLs, it might be a good idea to start revising now.”

“I’ll revise when you revise your fun levels,” James shot back, earning a laugh from Wormtail.

“He’s not wrong, Moony,” Sirius said, leaning back lazily. “We’ve got time. Besides, you’ll drag us into studying eventually, whether we like it or not.”

“True,” Remus conceded with a wry smile. “But don’t come crying to me when you fail Transfiguration.”

The banter was light, a welcome distraction. Sirius let it wash over him, grounding himself in the normalcy of it all. The weight of his mission was still there, pressing against his chest, but here, in this moment, it felt a little lighter, a fleeting reprieve in the warmth of his friends and the familiar chaos of Hogwarts.

Later, Sirius sat on the edge of his bed, the dormitory shrouded in shadow. The muffled sounds of James’s soft snores and the occasional rustle from Remus gave the room an air of calm that Sirius didn’t feel. His hand reached for the worn leather journal hidden beneath his pillow. He flipped it open to a blank page, the charm revealing his previous scribblings only to him.

He took a breath, then started writing.

Regulus is a Death Eater.

The words looked stark, sharp. Even though he’d suspected it for months, hearing it confirmed during Christmas had felt like a punch to the gut. Regulus believed in Voldemort’s cause, or at least enough to take the Mark. But Sirius couldn’t reconcile that with the boy he grew up with, the one who used to climb into his bed at night when the shouting downstairs got too loud. Regulus wasn’t cruel. Not really. Was he?

Sirius’s quill hovered over the page before he continued.

Following them isn’t working. It’s the same bloody rubbish every time, half-truths and dead ends. I need to find something solid. Something real. Sitting here doing nothing is making me lose my mind.

His jaw tightened, and the tip of the quill pressed harder against the parchment.

Dumbledore. I hate the idea, but he knows more about Voldemort than anyone. If I keep my cards close, I can get something useful out of him. Or… maybe I can find something myself. I need to act. Merlin, help me. I need to do something.

He paused, glancing at the curtained bed across the room. James had finally stopped hovering, content to throw himself back into flirting with Lily, being Quidditch captain, and scraping by in his studies. Remus, busy with prefect duties and OWLs, barely noticed anything beyond his growing to-do list. And Wormtail… well, he wasn’t worth thinking about.

The quill scratched again, faster this time, until the words blurred together.

At least they’re leaving me alone. But if I wait too long, everything could fall apart. I’m running out of time. Literally.

He slammed the journal shut, muttering the concealment charm, and shoved it under his pillow. For a moment, he sat on the edge of the bed, heart pounding, resolve burning through his veins.

He wanted to move now. Every part of him itched to act, to storm straight into danger, to stop history from curdling into the same tragedy he remembered. But diving in blind had failed him before, and Dumbledore is too smart; he has to be patient. He couldn’t make the same mistake again. No. this time, he would wait, watch, and strike at the right moment.

The next few days blurred together, long hours of joking in the common room, keeping his head down in class, drifting through the castle corridors like a shadow. He watched. He listened. He waited. And slowly, patterns emerged.

Dumbledore was constantly in motion. Some evenings, the headmaster vanished entirely, his absence covered by McGonagall’s worried mutters or the sharp-eyed professors taking up slack. Sirius memorized every detail, every shift in the headmaster’s routine.

Finally, the chance came. Tonight, the headmaster was gone again, out on urgent business, if McGonagall’s tight voice at dinner was anything to go by when he listened to their table.

The perfect opportunity.

Armed with the in-progress Marauder’s Map, Sirius navigated the castle with practiced ease. The gargoyle guarding Dumbledore’s office loomed ahead, its stone eyes unblinking. Sirius murmured the password he’d overheard earlier (“Sherbet Lemon”—Dumbledore really was predictable) and stepped onto the spiraling staircase.

The office smelled of parchment, polished wood, and a faint hint of lemon drops. Moonlight filtered through the arched windows, casting a silvery glow on the eclectic array of instruments ticking and whirring on the shelves. Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix, perched on his golden stand, eyeing Sirius with unsettling intelligence.

“Not a word,” Sirius whispered, pointing a finger at the bird as though that would do anything. Fawkes blinked but remained silent, his feathers shimmering in the dim light.

Sirius approached the desk, his heart pounding. He rifled through the neat stacks of parchment, careful to leave everything exactly as he found it. Most of it was innocuous, correspondence with the Ministry, notes on Hogwarts business, until he uncovered a letter addressed to Dumbledore in looping, hurried handwriting.

Albus,
The situation within the Ministry grows more dire by the day. The infiltration is deeper than we feared—several key departments are compromised, and I suspect others will fall soon.
I trust you are monitoring the movements of our mutual friend. He grows bolder with each passing month, and his influence among the younger generation is spreading. Hogwarts will not remain untouched for long. Keep watch, especially over those who walk the line between loyalty and rebellion. You know who I mean.

—Alastor Moody

Sirius read the letter twice, his stomach tightening. Infiltration? Younger generation? His mind immediately went to the Slytherins, Regulus among them. But Moody’s ominous line about “those who walk the line” stuck with him. Who was he talking about? A student? A professor?

He tucked the letter back under the stack, his eyes scanning the desk for more. Another parchment caught his attention, a list written in Dumbledore’s unmistakable hand. Names. Some he recognized, like Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy. Others were unfamiliar, but a chill crept over him as he realized what the list was: suspected Death Eaters. His breath hitched when he saw Regulus’s name at the bottom, underlined.

He already knows.

Sirius’s hands clenched into fists. Dumbledore wasn’t doing anything to help Regulus. But maybe the headmaster couldn’t. Not with the Ministry crumbling and Voldemort’s power growing.

He scanned the rest of the room, searching for anything else, until a locked drawer in the desk caught his attention. Whispering “Alohomora,” he felt the lock click open. Inside was a small stack of parchment, mostly blank except for one sheet bearing an unfamiliar rune. Sirius didn’t recognize it, but it felt important. He slipped it into his pocket before relocking the drawer and returning everything to its place.

Satisfied he hadn’t left a trace, Sirius slipped out of the office, his mind racing. He had more questions than answers, but he knew one thing for certain: Voldemort’s reach was spreading faster than anyone had admitted. And Regulus was tangled up in it more than Sirius had feared.

As he made his way back to the dormitory, Sirius’s thoughts burned with determination. If Dumbledore wasn’t going to act, then he would. One way or another, he’d find a way to pull Regulus back from the brink—and maybe gather the tools to take Voldemort down in the process.

Sirius tapped the end of his quill against his parchment, staring blankly at his notes. Study hall in McGonagall’s class wasn’t unusual, but today the ticking of the classroom clock felt louder, and the weight of his thoughts pressed harder. The others were engrossed in their work, but Sirius’s mind wasn’t on classwork or OWLs.

He was considering something dangerous. Something reckless.

I need to tell someone.

The thought had been gnawing at him for days. At first, he considered James; he always told James everything. But things between them had been so easy lately, so normal. He couldn’t risk ruining that. Not now. Remus, though… Remus was logical, level-headed. If anyone could help him navigate this without completely losing the plot, it was Moony.

Sirius leaned down and scribbled a quick note on a scrap of parchment:
We need to talk. After class. It's important.

He glanced around the room, making sure no one was paying attention, then slid the note across the desk to Remus.

Moony, ever perceptive, raised an eyebrow but picked up the note. His amber eyes flicked over the words, then darted to Sirius. He mouthed, What? But Sirius just gave him a pointed look and gestured for him to write back.

Remus sighed and wrote something before sliding the note back.
Now? What’s this about?

Sirius quickly responded:
It’s serious. Just trust me.

Remus’s skepticism was palpable as he passed the note back.
That’s not reassuring. What’s going on?

The back-and-forth continued, the parchment filling with Sirius’s half-truths and vague hints. Remus’s responses grew more curious, and eventually, Sirius wrote something that made his heart pound:
It’s about the future. I’m not supposed to be here.

Remus’s brow furrowed deeply as he read. He wrote a single word in response:
Explain.

Sirius paused, then began scribbling furiously, trying to condense everything without giving away too much in case someone else saw. As he passed the note back to Remus, a hand shot down and snatched it mid-slide.

“Passing notes without me?” James grinned, holding the crumpled parchment aloft. His hazel eyes gleamed with mischief as he waved it teasingly. “What’s this about? Some grand secret plot?”

Sirius’s heart dropped. “James,” he said, his voice sharper than intended, “give it back.”

James laughed, holding the note just out of reach. “What’s got you all worked up, Pads? Sharing secrets with Moony and leaving me out?”

Before James could blink, Sirius snatched the note from his hand in one quick, fluid motion. His movements were so frantic it startled James, whose grin faltered as his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What the bloody hell, Sirius?” James said, leaning forward. “Why are you two being so secretive?”

Before Sirius could concoct an excuse, the steady click of Professor McGonagall’s heels echoed across the room. She was heading toward their table, her sharp gaze fixed on the group.

Panic overtook logic. Without thinking, Sirius shoved the note into his mouth and swallowed it.

The room seemed to freeze. Remus, Wormtail, and James stared at him, their eyes wide with disbelief.

McGonagall stopped beside them, her arms crossed. “What, pray tell, are you four up to now?”

James recovered first. “Nothing, Professor,” he said, his tone breezy. “Just Sirius being his usual… crazy self.”

McGonagall’s eyes flicked to Sirius, who huffed and crossed his arms. “That’s not an insult,” Sirius grumbled. “My whole family’s crazy.”

James snorted but quickly covered it with a cough. McGonagall’s stern gaze swept over them. “I suggest you all return to your studies and refrain from any further dramatics,” she said, her voice sharp.

“Yes, Professor,” they all mumbled.

As she walked away, Remus leaned closer to Sirius. “We’ll talk later,” he whispered, his tone comforting.

Wormtail, ever curious, piped up. “What’s going on? What were you two passing notes about?”

Sirius tuned him out entirely, his gaze fixed on the desk. Before Wormtail could press further, Remus offered a kind but vague lie. “Just a joke, Wormtail. Nothing worth worrying about.”

Wormtail seemed to accept this, but Sirius could feel James’s eyes still on him. He didn’t dare meet them. James could go back to being nosy or a prat, who cared?

I care, Sirius thought bitterly. But it doesn’t matter right now.

Later, the Great Hall was bustling as usual, but Sirius barely noticed the noise. His eyes tracked Remus at the far end of the room, weaving through students as he headed toward the staircase, likely off to patrol the corridors. Sirius sighed, knowing their promised conversation would have to wait. He lingered near the doorway, debating his next move, when a familiar voice called out behind him.

“Oi, Pads!”

Sirius turned just in time to see James jogging up to him, his lopsided grin firmly in place. “Thought I’d lost you in the crowd,” James said, clapping a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “You headed somewhere, or just brooding near the exit like a proper mysterious bad boy?”

Sirius smirked despite himself. “Just heading out. What’s it to you?”

James chuckled as the two of them stepped into the corridor. “Nothing, really. Just thought I’d keep you company. You’ve been acting weird today. Thought maybe you needed your favorite mate to cheer you up.”

“Funny,” Sirius said dryly, “I don’t recall asking.”

“Yeah, well, you’d never admit it if you did.” James gave him a playful shove, his grin widening. For a moment, the easy banter was enough to distract Sirius. But then James’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Speaking of weird, though...what’s with you and Moony passing notes in the study hall? Seemed awfully secretive.”

Sirius groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let it go, Prongs.”

“Let it go?” James repeated, his voice rising a notch. “Pads, you practically inhaled that note to keep me from reading it! And now you want me to believe it was nothing?”

“It was nothing,” Sirius snapped, already feeling his patience fray.

“Don’t give me that,” James shot back, stepping in front of him to block his path. “We said no more secrets, remember? After last year? Or did that only apply to me?”

Sirius stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides. “You’re bringing that up again? Merlin’s beard, James, how many times are we going to have this conversation?”

“As many times as it takes for you to stop shutting me out!” James retorted, his voice sharp now. “You can’t just brush me off whenever it suits you. I’m your best mate, or did you forget that?”

“I didn’t forget,” Sirius said, his tone low and tense. “But not everything is about you, James. Maybe this isn’t something you need to know.”

James blinked, his expression shifting from anger to something softer—hurt, maybe. “Padfoot…” he started, but Sirius held up a hand to stop him.

“Not now, Prongs,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “We’ll talk later.”

Before James could argue, Sirius turned on his heel and strode down the corridor, his footsteps echoing against the stone walls. He heard James hesitate behind him before the sound of retreating steps told him his best friend had chosen to walk the other way.

As the distance between them grew, Sirius felt the weight in his chest settle heavier than before. He didn’t want to fight with James. He didn’t want any of this. But the truth was too dangerous to share, and Sirius wasn’t sure how much more of this he could handle

Sirius found himself standing in front of Professor Cunningham’s office, his hand hovering over the door for a moment before he knocked. He didn’t exactly know why he was here; maybe it was the argument with James, maybe it was the restless frustration about everything else. Either way, he wasn’t ready to head back to the dormitory and stare at the ceiling.

The door opened almost immediately, and Cunningham’s familiar face appeared, his dark eyes lighting up with recognition. His easy, confident smile settled on Sirius like a warm blanket.

“Sirius,” Cunningham said, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Out for a late-night stroll? Or is this a social call?”

“Bit of both,” Sirius said with a shrug, forcing a lopsided grin. “Didn’t feel like heading back to Gryffindor yet. Thought I’d see if you were up for a chat.”

Cunningham’s smile widened, and he stepped aside, gesturing for Sirius to come in. “You know my door’s always open for you.”

Sirius walked into the office, hands behind his back, immediately feeling at ease in the cozy, dimly lit space. The scent of parchment and polished wood mingled with the faint, familiar tang of Cunningham’s cologne. The room felt almost like stepping into another world, a place where the outside didn’t exist.

“Take a seat,” Cunningham said, settling into his chair with a practiced ease that Sirius envied. Everything about him seemed effortless, the way he moved, the way he talked, like he always knew exactly what to say. “Rough night?”

Sirius dropped into the chair across from him, slouching in a way McGonagall would have scolded him for. “Something like that. James is being a prat, but that’s nothing new.”

Cunningham chuckled softly, the sound low and smooth. “Ah, the complexities of friendship. Always tricky, especially at your age.”

“At my age?” Sirius echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Cunningham’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Don’t take it personally. I just mean… everything feels bigger when you’re young. Like the whole world’s on your shoulders.”

Sirius snorted. “You sound ancient, Professor.”

“Twenty-six isn’t ancient, Sirius,” Cunningham said with a mock-offended laugh. “Though I suppose it must seem that way to you.”

“Practically prehistoric,” Sirius teased, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

Their banter flowed easily, as it always did. Sirius liked talking to Cunningham; it wasn’t like talking to the other professors, who either looked down on him or treated him like a problem to be solved. Cunningham didn’t scold or lecture. He listened. He understood.

They moved on to talking about magic, as they often did. Cunningham had a way of making even the driest topics sound interesting, weaving in stories and insights that kept Sirius hanging on his every word.

“You’ve got potential, Sirius,” Cunningham said at one point, his tone softening. “Real talent. Not just with magic, but with the way you think. You don’t let yourself get boxed in by what other people expect of you. That’s rare.”

Sirius shrugged, feeling a flicker of pride despite himself. “I’ve never been good at following rules.”

“Good,” Cunningham said, his gaze holding Sirius’s a moment too long. “The world needs people who can think for themselves.”

The compliment felt like a balm against the doubt Sirius carried. Cunningham always made him feel… seen. Special. It was like he could cut through the noise in Sirius’s head and focus on the parts that mattered.

As the conversation continued, Sirius leaned back in his chair, letting himself relax. Cunningham talked about magic the Ministry wouldn’t touch, spells that required creativity and risk. It all sounded so much bigger than the rigid lessons in class, and Sirius hung on every word.

“Why don’t they teach this stuff at Hogwarts?” Sirius asked, his curiosity piqued. “It’s real magic. It’s important.”

“Too dangerous,” Cunningham said with a wry smile. “The Ministry prefers to keep things predictable. They think it keeps people safe.”

“And you don’t?”

Cunningham’s smile deepened. “I think magic is meant to be explored. Studied. Pushed to its limits. But that’s not something they teach you here.”

Sirius nodded, feeling an odd sense of gratitude. Cunningham got it. He understood what it was like to want more, to question the rules, to carve out his own path.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, Sirius realized how late it had gotten. “I should probably go,” he said, stretching. “Don’t want Filch to catch me.”

“Of course,” Cunningham said, rising as well. He leaned casually against the edge of his desk, his posture as effortless as always. “But don’t be a stranger, Sirius. I meant it when I said my door’s always open.”

Sirius shifted in his chair, restless energy coursing through him, and before he could think better of it, he rose and hopped up onto the edge of Cunningham’s desk. He perched there with the careless grace of someone who knew exactly how to command attention, one leg dangling, the other bent just so.

“Careful,” Cunningham said, amusement flickering in his dark eyes as he leaned back against the opposite corner of the desk. “That desk is older than both of us combined.”

“Then it’s survived worse than me,” Sirius replied, smirking. He tilted his head, letting his hair fall just enough to frame his face. It was instinct, a performance, but also genuine—the desire to be seen, admired, wanted. He caught Cunningham’s gaze and held it, unflinching. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Cunningham’s lips curved slowly, deliberately. “Not if you’re comfortable.”

Sirius’s chest tightened, not with nerves but with a rush of something heady. This was familiar ground, the dance he’d known once before. Here, he wasn’t the boy who had stormed out of Grimmauld Place, or the brother worrying about Regulus, or the friend clashing with James. He was just Sirius Black, reckless and wanted.

“You know,” Sirius said lightly, his voice pitched just enough to tease, “you talk a lot about how the world needs people who think for themselves. Ever think maybe Hogwarts doesn’t deserve you?”

Cunningham chuckled, shaking his head. “That sounds like something you’d say.”

“Maybe I’m just learning from the best.” Sirius’s grin widened, but his pulse quickened. He let his fingers trail idly along the edge of the desk, close enough to Cunningham’s hand that the space between them felt electric. He didn’t close it yet. The thrill was in hovering near the line, in waiting to see if it would be crossed.

Cunningham’s gaze flicked briefly to Sirius’s hand before returning to his face, a subtle but unmistakable shift. Sirius caught it and leaned in just a fraction, enough to make the air feel thicker.

He could almost convince himself that he wasn’t seventeen, wasn’t in a professor’s office at midnight. He was older, he was always older now, and Ryan was… safe. Safe because he wasn’t family, safe because he wasn’t James, safe because he made Sirius feel like every jagged edge of him was a strength, not a flaw.

“Maybe you should teach me something they don’t put in the textbooks,” Sirius said softly, his smirk curling into something more deliberate.

Cunningham’s silence stretched, deliberate, but Sirius wasn’t the kind to wait. Not when the air already crackled between them. He leaned in just a touch more, close enough that his breath stirred the hair by Cunningham’s ear.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Sirius murmured, his tone pitched low, teasing. “Am I making you nervous?”

Ryan chuckled, but it was quieter than before. “You don’t make me nervous, Mr. Black. You make me wonder if you know what you’re playing at.”

Sirius grinned, the kind of grin that usually preceded trouble. “I always know what I’m playing at.” His fingers brushed Cunningham’s sleeve, feather-light, almost accidental. Then, bolder, he let them linger. “Don’t you?”

The shift was subtle but decisive. Cunningham tilted his head, closing that final fraction of space. Sirius didn’t hesitate. Their lips met, slow at first, exploratory. Sirius’s stomach dropped, heat flooding through him, and before he could stop himself, he deepened the kiss, reckless and hungry.

Cunningham’s hand slid to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to draw a soft, unguarded sigh from Sirius. Merlin, it felt good, too good, and Sirius let himself melt into it, one hand curling into Cunningham’s shirt to keep him close.

When Ryan broke away, it wasn’t retreat; it was a shift, his mouth dragging down Sirius’s jaw to his throat. Sirius tilted his head back without thinking, breath catching as teeth grazed sensitive skin. His pulse thundered under Cunningham’s lips, and he bit back a groan.

“Careful,” Ryan murmured against his skin. “You’re addictive like this.”

“Good,” Sirius whispered, threading his fingers deeper into Cunningham’s hair, tugging until another low sound rumbled from the older man’s chest. “Then don’t stop.”

The words came out reckless and daring, because that was Sirius. He knew, somewhere deep down, that this was dangerous, that it wasn’t what he’d promised himself. But right now, he didn’t care. He wanted the rush, the fire, the proof that he was still untouchable, still in control.

Cunningham obliged, kissing him again, harder this time. Sirius gasped into it, and that gasp tipped into a laugh, breathless and wild. For the first time in weeks, he felt something other than the crushing weight of time and duty. He felt alive.

Sirius barely noticed how far they’d gone, not until Cunningham’s mouth was at his throat and Sirius was pulling at his hair like he couldn’t get enough. It was wild, it was dangerous, it was exactly what he used to thrive on—until the sharp crash of glass breaking split through the haze.

He flinched hard, breath hitching as he twisted around, eyes darting across the office. The bookshelves loomed in shadow, the fireplace flickered steadily, but—

“What was that?” Sirius demanded, heart hammering.

Cunningham had pulled back, too, but his expression was calmer, mildly annoyed more than alarmed. He glanced toward the corner where a small beaker had fallen from a shelf, shards glittering across the floor. “Probably just shifted on its own. Happens in old buildings like this.”

But Sirius wasn’t convinced. He kept staring at the shadows, every instinct on edge. The warmth he’d been wrapped in seconds ago, the heat of lips, the fire of reckless abandon, had drained away, replaced by something cold and sharp, like plunging headfirst into winter water. His skin prickled, and a shiver rattled down his spine.

“Sirius,” Cunningham’s voice was softer now, coaxing. A hand brushed his jaw, thumb tilting his chin back toward another kiss.

But Sirius turned his head, shutting his eyes against it. “No,” he muttered, the word coming out hoarse. He slid off the desk, boots hitting the floor with a dull thud. Shaking his head, he stepped back, away from the pull he’d just been giving into. “I-I can’t. Not right now.”

For the first time that evening, Ryan looked disappointed, the kind of quiet let-down that could have cut deep if Sirius let it. But Cunningham didn’t push; he just nodded, adjusting his sleeve as though nothing had happened. “Alright. Another time, maybe. Good night, Black.”

Sirius swallowed hard, his throat tight. “Yeah. Night.”

He left quickly, the heavy door clicking shut behind him. But the oppressive weight didn’t lift. The corridor felt too empty, too still, and that same cold prickle clung to him as he glanced over his shoulder once, twice, half-expecting to find eyes waiting in the shadows.

No one was there.

Sirius blew out a shaky breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair, forcing himself to keep walking. By the time he reached the common room door, exhaustion pressed at him more heavily than desire or fear. Maybe it was best to tuck in and pretend tonight hadn’t happened.

Still… he couldn’t shake that feeling.

The common room was hushed at this hour, fire low in the grate, only a handful of stragglers whispering at the tables before heading up to bed. Sirius slipped through the portrait hole with his head buzzing, still unsettled, his skin prickling like it hadn’t quite warmed from that strange chill. He wanted a drink, a fight, or maybe to collapse in bed and forget tonight ever happened.

Instead, he found James.

His best mate was curled in one of the armchairs closest to the fire, book open in his lap, glasses catching the dim light. He looked too calm, like he’d been sitting there for ages, like he hadn’t a care in the world. Sirius hesitated, throat tightening, then moved toward him.

Before he could open his mouth, before he could scrape together something that might sound like an apology, James glanced up, brow lifting.

“We’re fine,” he said simply.

Sirius blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“We’re fine,” James repeated, voice steady, even kind. He marked his page and shut the book with a quiet thump, leaning back in the chair as if the matter was settled. “Don’t stew over it.”

Relief washed through Sirius so quickly that it almost made him dizzy. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been until that moment, his shoulders aching from being held too tight. “Right. Well. Good then,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair and dropping onto the sofa opposite. “Didn’t fancy another row tonight.”

James’s mouth twitched, something between amusement and weariness, but he only said, “Exactly.”

The air loosened, conversation slipping to safer ground. Sirius stretched out like a cat, eyes on the fire. “So. You think Gryffindor’s got a shot against Ravenclaw next match, or do I need to prepare a dramatic obituary for our dignity?”

James snorted. “You forget who our Chaser is? We’ll flatten them.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice gaining that familiar spark when Quidditch came up. “They’ve got good speed but no coordination. All I have to do is bait their Keeper into overcommitting, and it’s open season.”

Sirius grinned, the tension easing from his chest as they batted the topic back and forth, tossing jabs and boasts like nothing in the world had gone wrong tonight.

Chapter Text

The dorm smelled faintly of ink, candle smoke, and burnt parchment. Sirius sat cross-legged on his bed with a roll of scrollwork sprawled across his knees, wand in hand, muttering under his breath as he traced runes that refused to sit still. Each time he thought he had them locked down, the symbols wriggled like stubborn beetles, rearranging themselves with smug defiance.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius groaned, jabbing at the parchment. “If this thing tells me it’s ‘confused’ one more time, I’m feeding it to the Whomping Willow.”

Across the room, James didn’t even look up. His hair stuck out at new and dangerous angles, his quill moving fast as he scribbled formulae along the margins of a separate sheet. He had that look in his eye, the one he usually reserved for Quidditch strategy and Lily Evans. Lately, though, it was all for the map.

“You didn’t bind it right,” James said absently, scratching something out, muttering to himself before rewriting it again. “Anchor the pathways to the ley-lines under the castle, not just the walls. The wards flex. You’ve got to flex with them.”

Remus, half-buried in a stack of books at the foot of Wormtail’s bed, raised a brow. “Listen to the cartographer.”

Sirius scowled at James’s hunched back, though his chest warmed at the sight of him so intent. “Yes, yes, Mr. Potter, genius of Hogwarts. How could I forget?”

“Because you’ve been mucking about with your runes instead of listening.” James shot him a sharp grin over his shoulder, then ducked back down into his work, quill flying again.

Wormtail, meanwhile, looked between them nervously, clutching one of the scrap parchments where the prototype pathways fizzled out halfway to the kitchens. “Er… this bit still just spits ink at me.”

“Progress,” James said distractedly, flipping to a new page.

“An insult, more like,” Wormtail muttered, wiping black stains from his sleeve.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. But underneath the noise, his thoughts snagged on something else, Remus’s steady presence at the edge of the group. He still hadn’t had the chance to tell him about the time-travel, about everything, and the weight of it pressed at the back of his skull. Every day he didn’t speak, the secret grew heavier.

But James was all fire, all focus, pouring himself into the project, and Sirius hadn’t yet found the right moment to break away.

The parchment hissed like it resented them. Sirius swore under his breath, blotting out another failed rune that curled up on itself and vanished in smoke. James was still hunched over the main spread of the castle, quill darting like a blade. Wormtail was covered in ink. Remus… looked maddeningly calm, eyes skimming a reference book as if he hadn’t noticed Sirius watching him out of the corner of his eye.

They hadn’t spoken properly since the notes. Not about the truth. Sirius had tried to catch him, but every time they were alone, something interrupted, class, James, the bloody prefects’ rounds. And Remus? He didn’t seem bothered in the least, as though he hadn’t been handed a secret that could split the world in two. Maybe he was waiting. Or maybe he had already decided it wasn’t worth asking. Sirius didn’t know which was worse.

“Oi, Pads, you’re staring at Moony again,” James muttered without looking up, lips twitching.

“I’m staring at his handwriting,” Sirius shot back smoothly. “It’s offensively neat. Makes me ill.”

Remus didn’t even glance up from his book. “And yours is a crime scene.”

Wormtail snorted so hard that ink sprayed across his sleeve.

Sirius rolled his eyes and bent back to the parchment, but his thoughts slid sideways, uncooperative as ever. Cunningham hadn’t cornered him again, hadn’t even tried. No warm smiles, no lingering touches. Sirius told himself it was a relief, especially after that eerie shattering-glass moment that had chilled him to the bone. And yet… nothing? No urge, no pull, not even a flicker of the hunger that had made him reckless the first time. His libido, once a restless beast, felt like it had been bludgeoned into a coma. At seventeen. What a tragic bummer.

He shook it off and tapped his wand against the parchment. The runes shimmered, then guttered out. “Brilliant. Now it’s just sulking.”

“Because you keep binding it wrong,” James said sharply, hair falling into his eyes. He shoved his glasses up with inky fingers and added, softer, “You’ve got to let it breathe with the castle, not choke it.”

Sirius smirked. “Oh, look at you, waxing poetic. Should I fetch parchment and let you write sonnets about the architecture?”

“Shut up and hand me the ley-line grid.”

While James barked orders and Remus adjusted warding scripts with maddening precision, Sirius’s mind ticked to a quieter, darker thread: Gimsey. His elf had been slipping like a shadow, unnoticed, into corners where Death Eaters’ children whispered. Not Malfoy. Not Bella. He wasn’t insane. Smaller fish. Dangerous in their own way, but not enough to notice an elf clinging to rafters. And slowly, ever so slowly, Gimsey was bringing him crumbs — mentions of curfews, coded meetings, a smuggling line for hexed artifacts. Nothing game-changing yet, but he could feel it building.

He kept it close, didn’t breathe a word to the others. They had the map, their pranks, their schoolwork. Sirius had Gimsey and a gnawing need to be three steps ahead.

And over all of it, like a shadow on the ceiling, Dumbledore. Sirius knew the Headmaster knew. The way his eyes twinkled just a fraction too knowingly whenever they met. He hadn’t said a word about Sirius’s ill-advised snoop into his office. No punishment, no lectures. Which was worse? Because if Dumbledore had survived this long, it wasn’t by being fooled. Sirius had to laugh more loudly, swagger more carelessly, charm his professors into rolling their eyes instead of asking questions.

“Padfoot,” Remus’s voice cut into his spiraling thoughts. Calm. Even. “You going to anchor this corridor, or just scowl at it until it behaves?”

Sirius snapped his attention back, plastered on a grin, and flicked his wand with a flourish. “Watch and learn, gentlemen. This is how you bend Hogwarts to your will.”

The rune glowed, quivered… then bled across the parchment in messy, chaotic lines.

“Or how you accidentally draw a troll with a hat,” Wormtail offered.

James’s laughter shook the inkpot. Sirius smirked, but inside, his thoughts were miles away.

The parchment twitched. Sirius narrowed his eyes and tapped again, a lazy flourish just to irritate Remus, and suddenly—there. A faint shimmer that spread like spilled ink.

“Oi,” James breathed, leaning forward so fast he nearly knocked the inkpot over. “Did you see that?”

All four of them crowded in. Lines crawled across the parchment, corridors knitting themselves together with shimmering precision. And then, as if the castle had exhaled into their work, names began to appear. Tiny ink-letters that shifted and moved. Sirius squinted, one dot sliding down a staircase, the name hovering beside it: Longbottom. Another paused by a tower: McGonagall.

Wormtail yelped. “Merlin, it’s actually working!”

“Not all of it,” Remus said, steady as always, but his eyes betrayed him, glowing with something close to pride. “But yes… the framework is binding.”

James grinned so hard it nearly split his face. He shoved Sirius’s shoulder, sending him half off his chair. “You bloody genius! That was your rune adjustment. Pads, you’re brilliant!”

The words lit Sirius up warmer than firewhiskey. He barked a laugh and pretended to shrug it off, but his chest felt startlingly full. Brilliant. James had called him brilliant. Sirius didn’t dare examine the way it made him want to bask like a cat in sunlight. Instead, he looked at him, at the ridiculous tangle of black hair, at those gold-rimmed glasses gleaming under the lamplight—actual gold, of course. Trust a Potter to turn eyewear into a bloody heirloom. They caught the firelight in a way that made James seem… burnished. Sirius glanced away before the warmth turned sharp.

The knock on the door came like a bucket of cold water.

“Remus!” a whiny voice piped. The door cracked open to reveal a freckled second-year, shifting nervously on his feet. “We need help with our Transfiguration essays, please. You promised—”

Three more heads shoved in beside him, eyes wide. “Oh! James! Did you hear about Hufflepuff’s new Beater? He’s terrible! You’ll crush them next match!” A boy beamed, babbling so fast Sirius couldn’t track half of it.

James laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, alright, one at a time—”

Sirius seized the distraction. He slid parchment into his satchel, tidied the ink with a flick, and stood. “I’m heading out.”

“Where to?” James asked, distracted by the miniature fan club tugging at his sleeve.

“Regulus,” Sirius said. “Someone’s got to drag the little git into a proper conversation.”

Remus was already shepherding the whiny second-year down the corridor, ignoring Wormtail’s cheerful, “Bye, Padfoot!” James didn’t even notice, still cornered by the eager chatterboxes. Sirius caught his eye briefly, lifted a hand in a vague wave, and slipped out.

The castle’s halls felt heavy as he walked. Regulus was avoiding him again. Always avoiding him. But Sirius wasn’t going to give up. Not this time.

The Hogwarts elves had outdone themselves. Sirius only had to charm one of them with a wink and a lopsided grin before they were pressing a plate into his hands, piled high with treacle tart still warm from the oven. He snagged a knife as well—mostly so Regulus wouldn’t accuse him of showing up empty-handed with nothing but crumbs, he could cut the pieces all even without complaint of hands touching his food.

It was a peace offering, plain and simple. Three weeks were long enough for Regulus to sulk. Sirius knew his brother. A bit of tart, a bit of brotherly charm, and maybe they’d get past the mess of Christmas Eve.

The dungeons were quiet at this hour, their walls slick with damp and the torches hissing low. Sirius’s boots scuffed softly against stone as he went, balancing the plate against his chest. He slowed when voices carried down the corridor—one of them unmistakably Regulus’s.

He crept closer, hugging the shadows. There he was, Regulus, his posture immaculate as ever, coat drawn neatly around him. And beside him. Mulciber. Of all bloody people.

They spoke in low voices, heads bent close, Mulciber’s chuckle making Sirius’s skin crawl. Then, instead of turning toward the Slytherin common room, both boys adjusted their coats and started for the outer doors.

Sirius let out a quiet, sharp breath. Treacle tart in hand, knife balanced on the plate, he cursed under his breath. “Perfect. Just perfect.”

The rational thing, the mature thing, would be to drop the tart in Regulus’s dorm, pretend he hadn’t seen a thing. But Sirius had never been good at walking away.

He squared his shoulders, tightened his grip on the plate, and slipped into step at a careful distance. If Regulus was running off with Mulciber in the middle of the night, Sirius needed to know why. That’s what brothers did.

The night air bit at Sirius’s skin the moment he slipped out of the castle, his breath fogging in front of him. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. He hadn’t thought to grab a cloak in his grand plan to stalk his brother, and now here he was—trudging through frost-kissed grass with a bloody plate of treacle tart clutched to his chest like an idiot.

Every step seemed louder than the last, and Sirius cursed every crunch of frozen soil under his boots. Regulus and Mulciber walked ahead at an easy pace, their figures framed by moonlight. The two of them spoke in low tones, words lost to the wind, though Mulciber’s occasional snicker carried back enough to make Sirius want to hurl the tart right at his greasy head.

He hunched deeper into himself, jaw tight against the cold. “When I catch up to you, Reg, you’re getting this whole plate right to the skull,” he muttered, teeth chattering. “See how clever you look then.”

The trek out of the castle grounds felt endless. Past the gates, over the sloping hill, and down the path toward Hogsmeade. Sirius’s hands were stiff from gripping the porcelain plate, and his nose had gone numb. Regulus was lucky Sirius actually loved him, because otherwise, he’d have turned right around.

The village was quiet, shutters drawn tight, smoke rising lazily from the last few hearths burning inside. Regulus and Mulciber slipped between the buildings like they’d done this before, heading not toward the center of Hogsmeade but the shadowed outer lanes where shops gave way to open fields. Sirius followed at a distance, ducking behind a cart when Regulus glanced back once, twice.

Finally, the pair stopped near the edge of the village, under the half-lit sign of a boarded-up tavern. Mulciber leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while Regulus tugged his coat tighter, posture stiff. Sirius pressed himself into the corner of the next building, treacle tart still balanced precariously in one hand, straining to hear them.

“What are you two waiting for…” he whispered, irritation prickling at the back of his neck. His breath curled white into the air.

And then he saw him.

Out from the treeline lumbered a figure Sirius would have known anywhere. Broad shoulders, hunched back, that predatory gait that sent a chill crawling down his spine. Fenrir Greyback.

Sirius’s stomach turned, a wave of disgust hot enough to make him forget the cold for a moment. That monster. That feral, half-mad bastard who wore his curse like a badge of honor. Even from this distance, Sirius could feel the menace radiating off him, see the way his yellowed eyes gleamed in the dark as he approached Regulus and Mulciber.

“Bloody hell, Reg,” Sirius hissed under his breath, fingers tightening dangerously around the knife he’d tucked against the plate. “Of all the people you could sneak off to meet, it had to be him?”

His heart hammered as Greyback drew close enough for Regulus to incline his head stiffly. Sirius pressed tighter against the wall, the stone freezing against his back, every instinct screaming at him to rush in and drag his brother away. But he couldn’t—not yet. Not without knowing what in Merlin’s name Regulus thought he was doing.

He shifted just enough to peer around the corner again, jaw clenched, fury burning hot and cold all at once as he watched his little brother standing there with a predator.

The cold seemed to vanish all at once when Fenrir’s hand shot out and wrapped around Regulus’s arm.

Sirius froze for half a heartbeat, breath caught in his chest, before the world tunneled. His brother’s startled gasp. Mulciber’s shout. The sharp, obscene sound of Greyback sniffing, dragging Regulus closer like a prize.

And then Mulciber—coward, rat, pathetic waste—stumbled back with wide eyes and bolted, leaving Regulus in that monster’s grip.

Something snapped. Sirius didn’t feel the weight of the plate anymore; it clattered into the frost with a dull smash, treacle tart scattering uselessly at his feet. His fingers closed around the knife, and he was already moving, sprinting, hexing Mulciber on reflex. One sharp flick of his wand, red light slicing the air, Mulciber shrieking as he went down face-first in the dirt.

But Sirius wasn’t even looking at him.

His eyes were on Greyback. On Regulus, trapped and too small, too young, his wand arm pinned.

His brother.

Sirius didn’t think. He didn’t reach for any curse, didn’t even try to remember what spell might drive a werewolf back. All he saw was the way Greyback bent his head, teeth bared near Regulus’s throat, eyes gleaming with hunger. And all Sirius heard was Lily’s voice, laughing years ago, saying Sometimes you gotta do it the Muggle way. Sure, she was talking about how she liked cleaning her dishes by hand instead of charming them, but Sirius felt it still applied to this situation.

The next second, Sirius was there, colliding into them, the knife already plunging.

Once, twice. Hot blood sprayed across his hand, his wrist, and Greyback roared, staggering back with a guttural sound that rattled Sirius’s teeth. But Sirius didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

He slashed again, catching Greyback’s cheek, his jaw, the side of his throat. Blood spilled in thick, black streaks, and Sirius was choking on the copper stink, his heart hammering so hard it felt like it would split open. His whole body shook with the force of his rage, his fear.

“Get off him! Get your filthy hands off him!” Sirius’s voice cracked into something savage, unrecognizable, as he drove the blade down again, and again. The knife jarred against bone, slid into flesh, came away slick and hot. His arm burned from the motion, but he didn’t care.

Greyback snarled, tried to shove him back, claws swiping wild, but Sirius pressed in close, hacking, stabbing, every blow fueled by the thought of Regulus’s arm locked in that iron grip, by the image of what Greyback would have done if Sirius hadn’t been here.

No wand. No spells. Just raw, ugly violence. Just Sirius, covered in blood, teeth gritted as tears stung his eyes, because the thought of losing his little brother—losing him this way—was unthinkable.

Greyback bellowed, staggered to his knees, and Sirius ripped the knife free one last time, panting hard, chest heaving like he’d run miles. His ears rang with the sound of his own pulse.

For a horrible moment, everything was silent but his ragged breathing. Sirius’s hand trembled as he turned, knife still dripping, to where Regulus had stumbled back against the wall of the tavern.

His brother stared at him wide-eyed, pale, lips parted in shock.

And Sirius, hands shaking, blood spattered up to his elbow, chest tight and lungs burning, realized he was still standing over Fenrir Greyback’s twitching body, and he had no idea how many times he’d stabbed him.

The knife slipped from Sirius’s hand with a wet clang in the snow. For a second, he couldn’t breathe, his chest heaving, hands shaking as the blood cooled sticky and black on his skin.

Regulus was staring at him, wide-eyed, not the calm, smug little prince he always pretended to be, but a boy. A terrified, trembling boy.

“Reggie—” Sirius croaked, reaching out, desperate. He thought Regulus would recoil, flinch away from the brother who’d just butchered a man with his bare hands.

Instead, Regulus lurched forward and threw his arms around him.

Sirius’s throat closed. He crushed him close, burying a hand in the back of his brother’s hair, ignoring how their blood-slick sleeves smeared together. “Shh, I’ve got you. It’s over, I’ve got you.”

Regulus was shaking so badly that it rattled through both of them. His breath hitched, words breaking apart between his teeth. “S-sirius he’s dead—Sirius, he’s dead—”

“I know.” Sirius’s own voice cracked, low and rough, and he rocked them both in the snow like he could soothe the world into stillness. “I know, baby brother. Shhh. He won’t touch you, he won’t—he can’t.” His hands trembled even as he whispered, even as he pressed his bloody cheek to Regulus’s temple.

Because yes, he’d killed a man. Yes, it had been brutal and fast and wrong in ways spells never were. But Greyback wasn’t a man, not really. Greyback was a monster, and he’d wanted Regulus. He’d sniffed him. Sirius thought of the stories he’d heard, the victims, the scars, the children. He’d do it again. A thousand times again.

Still, there was a body cooling in the snow, and Regulus’s breath was hitching against his collarbone, and Sirius could feel his own panic rising like bile.

He pulled back enough to see Regulus’s pale, blotched face. His little brother’s eyes darted to the corpse, then back to him, as though afraid Sirius would vanish too.

“Listen,” Sirius rasped, gripping his shoulders. “We don’t have time. Curfew’s in two hours. Mulciber—fuck.” He glanced at the prone figure still facedown in the snow. “We can’t let him run off to Voldemort and paint a target on you.”

Regulus blinked, dazed, struggling to focus. “…He won’t. Greyback wasn’t meant to be here. Mulciber owled him in the last minute, thought it’d impress someone. No one’s expecting him back.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched. He’d like nothing better than to leave Mulciber out here to freeze, let him learn what betrayal tasted like. But two bodies in one night would be more than either of them could cover.

He tightened his grip on Regulus’s hand. “Stay with me.”

They crossed to where Mulciber lay groaning faintly. Sirius bent, fingers finding the wand he’d dropped, cold and damp but intact. He took one long, steadying breath, then leveled it at Mulciber’s slack face. “Obliviate.”

A soft flash, and the tension in his shoulders uncoiled just a fraction. Enough. Mulciber wouldn’t remember what he’d seen—not Sirius, not Regulus. He dragged him by the collar into the narrow cut of an alley, out of the open wind. The boy would wake up frostbitten, maybe missing some fingers, but alive.

When he straightened, Regulus was still glued to his side, their fingers knotted together, refusing to let go.

Now came the hard part. Sirius turned him to face Greyback’s mangled body, snow already frosting around the blood. “We have to bury him,” he said, voice steady even if his insides were still a storm. “No trace. Even the knife, gone.”

Regulus’s face crumpled, then hardened again, the way he always tried to steel himself. His lips pressed thin, his jaw tight, but he nodded. “Alright.” His voice was thin. “Alright.”

Sirius looked at him, really looked, and saw both the boy who wanted to cry and the Black heir forcing himself not to. His chest twisted.

He squeezed his hand once more, lifted his wand, and forced himself into motion. They couldn’t freeze to death here. They couldn’t leave a single shred behind.

And for the first time in a very long time, Sirius and Regulus worked side by side, brothers united by blood, the blood Sirius had spilled.

The earth swallowed Greyback in silence. There were no shovels, no muggle sweat and dirt. Just two trembling boys wielding wands with shaky precision, forcing the ground to split open, snow and frozen soil clawing away under whispered spells. The pit yawned wide and dark, and together they rolled the corpse in. Sirius’s stomach lurched at the wet sound it made.

They covered him quickly. Too quickly. Sirius wanted to make it perfect, smooth, erasing every trace, but his hands were trembling and his wand shook. Regulus silently cast the last charm, smoothing the snow until the ground looked untouched.

The knife vanished next, incinerated in a burst of white-blue flame. Sirius stood too close to the fire, almost daring it to lick him, to punish him, but it guttered out fast, leaving only blackened ash that the wind swept away.

Finally, Regulus turned back to Mulciber, still unconscious and half-buried in snow where Sirius had dumped him. Sirius sneered, already imagining how Voldemort might handle a coward like him. But before he could say anything, Regulus quietly flicked his wand and laid a faint warming charm over the boy.

Sirius blinked. “Regulus, no—”

“He doesn’t deserve to die like this,” Regulus muttered, his voice low but steady. “Not like that.”

Sirius wanted to argue, to demand why his brother could spare mercy for Mulciber but not spare himself the shame of hugging Sirius bloody in the snow. But the words died on his tongue. Instead, he nodded once, sharply, and pulled Regulus along.

The walk back was silent. Too silent. Sirius’s mind screamed with everything he couldn’t voice: the crunch of snow under their boots, the smear of blood still tacky on his hands, the twisted glee that had sparked in him when he’d driven the knife into Greyback’s face. That wasn’t normal. That wasn’t him. And now he wondered if he’d ever sleep without feeling it again, without wondering if something inside him was broken for good.

Azkaban had already left cracks. Tonight felt like another fracture splintering deeper.

By the time the castle loomed ahead, Sirius’s adrenaline was fading. Cold gnawed at him; his wet sleeves felt stiff with blood. Regulus still clung to his hand like he couldn’t stand the thought of letting go.

Inside, the warmth of Hogwarts should have been a relief, but Sirius only felt exposed. Too many portraits with prying eyes, too many prefects or professors still awake. They couldn’t go back to Gryffindor or Slytherin covered in blood; they’d be caught in minutes.

“Shit,” Sirius hissed, tugging Regulus faster, guiding him through narrow hallways and half-forgotten passages he and James had mapped. Every empty classroom he passed tempted him, but the thought of being discovered in one—bloodied, with his brother—made his skin crawl. “Fuck, fuck, where—”

“Sirius,” Regulus interrupted, pulling him short.

“What?” He looked back and saw that Regulus wasn’t looking at him at all, but at the stone wall beside them.

A door. A door that hadn’t been there before.

Sirius froze, his heart still hammering. He hadn’t seen this door before, not once in all his time prowling these corridors with James.

The handle gleamed faintly.

He glanced at Regulus, who swallowed and whispered, “It wasn’t there a moment ago.”

Sirius’s pulse skipped. His gut screamed trap, but his magic prickled in recognition. His brother’s hand tightened around his. Slowly, carefully, Sirius pushed the door open.

Warmth and steam rolled out to greet them. A wide chamber stretched beyond, marble floors glistening, and rows of sinks and basins already filled with steaming water. Shelves lined with neatly folded clothes—robes, jumpers, socks—waited for them, as though someone had anticipated their every need.

Sirius’s throat went dry. “What the hell…”

Regulus stepped inside first, and the door swung shut behind them.

The two of them stood in silence, staring at the impossible room that had answered their unspoken desperation.

And then Regulus laughed, broken and sharp. “A bloody miracle.”

Sirius didn’t laugh. He couldn’t. He just pressed a hand over his face, dragging in air that still smelled faintly of blood beneath the steam. “No one can know about this,” he muttered. “Not Gryffindor. Not Slytherin. Not anyone. Just us.”

Regulus nodded instantly, eyes dark. “Just us.”

They didn’t say another word. They didn’t need to.

They stripped out of their ruined clothes, scrubbed the blood from their skin, and dressed in the fresh garments the room had left. By the time they were clean, the silence between them felt like something sacred, something binding.

Regulus’s face looked drained, waxy under the flickering torchlight. The mask of calm arrogance he always wore had cracked wide open, leaving behind only the frightened boy Sirius hadn’t seen in years. His voice was low, hoarse, and so very young when he finally spoke.

“Goodnight.”

The word dropped like a stone between them, final. Before Sirius could answer, his brother turned and walked quickly for the door, his robes swishing around him like he couldn’t get away fast enough. He didn’t even look back.

“Regulus—” Sirius’s voice caught, sharper than he meant, and he tried again, softer this time. “Tomorrow. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

But Regulus was already gone, and the room swallowed the promise like it didn’t matter.

For a long moment, Sirius just stood there, listening to the echo of his own breath. His whole body trembled, faintly at first, then harder until he had to grip the edge of the table to steady himself. His heartbeat felt like it had nowhere to go, pounding uselessly in his throat, in his ears, in his fingertips still curled around phantom blood and steel.

He staggered into the corridor, the silence of Hogwarts pressing heavily on his shoulders. The torches hissed and popped, and for the first time, he hated how familiar it all was. The castle that had always been his refuge felt watchful tonight, like it knew what he had done and was waiting to pass judgment. He turned toward the wall, but the door—Merlin, the door wasn’t there anymore. Just blank stone stretching endlessly on either side. No seam, no mark, nothing to suggest the room had ever been more than his own fever dream.

Sirius laughed once, harsh and breathless, running a hand through his hair. “Brilliant. Bloody brilliant,” he muttered to himself. Maybe he was losing it. Maybe he’d dreamt the whole thing—Greyback’s leer, the knife, the blood slick and hot against his skin. Maybe it was just another nightmare, the kind that followed him from Azkaban, only sharper now that he was younger.

Except he could still smell it. Copper and snow clung to him like a second skin, no matter how clean the magic had left him.

By the time he reached Gryffindor Tower, his fingers had gone numb from clenching them too tightly. The Fat Lady gave him a bleary, suspicious look, but he muttered the password and slipped through before she could scold him.

The common room was dim; the fire burned low. A few stragglers dozed in armchairs, their faces slack in the glow. A couple of younger students huddled by the hearth, whispering over a game of Exploding Snap, their laughter too bright, too normal. Sirius ducked his head, shoulders curving inward, and skirted past before anyone could notice the hollowness in his eyes.

The stairs creaked under his weight. Each step up felt heavier, like the castle wanted to drag him back down into the dark and force him to look again at what he’d done. He didn’t dare breathe until he pushed open the dormitory door.

Inside, the room was quiet but not silent. James’s steady snores rose and fell from the other side of the room. Wormtail muttered something in his sleep, turning over and pulling the blanket tighter. Remus shifted once, a soft rustle of sheets, then settled again. It was all so normal. So ordinary.

Sirius’s knees nearly buckled from the sharp contrast.

He stripped only his shoes before collapsing into his own bed. The mattress dipped, the familiar scent of clean linen wrapping around him, but it felt alien under his skin. He yanked the covers up to his chin, curling tight like he could fold himself out of existence.

The image of Regulus’s face wouldn’t leave him. Pale, wide-eyed, scared. Not the cool, biting brother he’d argued with for years. Just a boy, clutching his arm, helpless.

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut. The smell of blood was still there. The sound of Greyback’s snarl. The wet crackle of the knife breaking skin. He had killed before—Avada Kedavra, green light, quick, distant—but this had been different. This had been his hand. His strength. His choice.

And the terrifying truth?

He didn’t regret it. Not for one second.

That thought shook him harder than the rest. His breath came in uneven bursts, like his lungs couldn’t decide whether to keep him alive. He pressed his face into the pillow, muffling the quiet, broken sound that slipped out. Was it even real? The door was gone. The wall was just a wall. His hands looked clean, his clothes spotless. Maybe the castle had already scrubbed it from existence, swallowing his sin whole.

But Sirius still felt it. Every nerve was buzzing with it. Exhaustion finally dragged him under, heavy and merciless. His last thought before sleep claimed him was simple and cruel.

If Regulus looked at him with fear in the morning, Sirius wouldn’t blame him.

Chapter Text

The castle had a different hum in February. Not the light, lazy air of September, or the frantic energy of June. This was a grind, the slow tightening of gears as professors began their merciless march toward exams. OWLs for fifth-years. NEWTs for the seventh. And for everyone else, the steady drum of finals. Students emerged from classrooms already muttering about essays and revision schedules. Even the portraits seemed to lean in with pity.

Sirius hadn’t eaten much at breakfast; he’d stared at his porridge until it went cold. His eyes had swept the Slytherin table more than once, heart in his throat, but no Regulus. Not a glimpse. By the time free period came, Sirius’s nerves felt like frayed rope. He needed noise, warmth, distraction.

So he dragged James Potter by the sleeve all the way to the library.

“You do know,” James muttered as Sirius hauled him past startled Hufflepuffs, “that most blokes go to Hogsmeade for fun, not the bloody library?”

“Most blokes aren’t me,” Sirius said, and it came out sharper than he meant. But James didn’t argue. He just raised his brows, gave a low whistle, and followed.

They set up at one of the long oak tables under the soft glow of floating lamps. James sprawled, already pulling out his Transfiguration notes. Sirius opened his own book, tried to read a paragraph, and felt the words dissolve into nonsense. His eyes kept sliding off the page.

James, without even looking up, stretched his leg under the table until his knee pressed lightly against Sirius’s. It wasn’t anything, not really. James did it all the time. But today the warmth of it nearly undid Sirius.

“Your wand movements are sloppy,” James said casually, like they were mid-conversation. “You’re trying to force it. That’s why McGonagall keeps sighing at you like you’ve offended her ancestors.”

Sirius blinked at him. “Are you…helping me?”

James shrugged, that smug lopsided grin tugging at his mouth. “I’m generous like that. Don’t tell Evans, or she’ll expect me to start tutoring the whole year.”

Sirius huffed a laugh, then sagged, dropping his quill. “You’re too bloody chipper for someone whose OWLs are looming.”

“Because I’m not daft,” James said. “I know you’ll pull me through the ones I’m rubbish at, and I’ll pull you through Transfiguration.”

Sirius snorted, pushing his book away so it thudded shut. He folded his arms on the table and dropped his head, cheek against the cool wood. His hair fell forward in a dark curtain that hid his face. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

James stopped writing. The scratch of his quill went silent. Then, softer, almost careful, “What do you need me to do?”

The words hit Sirius in the gut. Simple. Uncomplicated. James always spoke like help was the most natural thing in the world. Sirius had to swallow before he could answer. His first instinct was a joke, something sharp, something loud, but his throat wouldn’t cooperate. He could feel James watching him, the quiet kind of watching that meant he wasn’t going anywhere until Sirius said something real.

And then movement caught the edge of his vision.

There. Back by the far stacks.

Regulus.

Sirius went still. His breath snagged. His little brother looked thin, paler than he remembered, a heavy book pressed to his chest like a shield. His cloak was still buttoned to the throat; he hadn’t even warmed up from outside. Regulus didn’t glance around or greet anyone; he just drifted to one of the hidden tables near the back and vanished into the shadows.

Sirius’s pulse kicked so hard it made his hands tremble under the table.

He turned back fast. James was still leaning forward, brows drawn slightly, those gold-flecked eyes steady and far too perceptive. Sirius knew that look—it was the one James used when he was about to dig, when he’d decided someone needed saving. Sirius couldn’t let him. Not now. Not when Regulus was ten steps away and Sirius could barely breathe.

So he did what he always did best, he lied with a grin on his face.

“Well,” Sirius said, voice rough but playful, “you could start by writing my essay for me.”

James blinked, the corner of his mouth twitching like he knew exactly what Sirius was doing but decided to let him have it. “Git.” He flicked his quill at him.

Sirius caught it and twirled it, letting the motion steady him. “What? You said you’d pull me through. Consider this as me letting you.”

James shook his head, smiling despite himself, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Absolutely,” Sirius murmured. He leaned back, stretching his legs under the table. His heartbeat was still wild, but the smile stayed in place because James was still looking at him, and for now that had to be enough.

James’s knee brushed his again, warm, casual, lingering just long enough to make Sirius aware of every nerve in his body. The contact was small but grounding, like sunlight through frost. For the first time all morning, Sirius exhaled.

“Merlin’s beard,” he said quietly, dropping his forehead to his folded arms. “I hate studying. Don’t know how Moony does it without bursting into flames.”

James laughed softly, the sound low and easy. “He’s a better man than either of us.”

Sirius was about to snap something snide when the library doors creaked open. A flash of red hair caught the corner of his eye. Lily Evans, brisk as ever, marched toward the shelves with the air of someone on a mission. Sirius’s lips curved into a smirk of salvation.

“Oi, Prongs,” Sirius said, lifting his head. “Your future wife just walked in.”

James blinked, startled, then frowned. “Pads…”

“No, don’t give me that look. Go on, Evans is right there, looking all bookish and tragically single.” Sirius nudged him with his boot under the table. “This is your chance to impress her with your dazzling wit and questionable hair.”

James’s jaw tightened, but he raked a hand through his hair anyway. “I’m not in the mood.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Not in the mood? James Potter, not in the mood to flirt with Lily Evans? That’s like Moony saying he’s not in the mood to read.”

James gave him a look half annoyance, half concern, and Sirius hated that it landed so precisely. Those hazel eyes saw too much. “You’re wound tight, Pads,” James said quietly. “You sure you’re alright?”

Sirius almost faltered. Almost. But then he forced a grin, all teeth and bravado. “Go on, Prongs. Make me proud. You’ll thank me later when you’re married with red-headed sprogs.”

James searched his face for a long beat, something wounded flickering in his hazel eyes, but then he pushed back his chair. “Fine,” he muttered. “But if she hexes me, I’m blaming you.”

“Blame away.” Sirius waved him off with mock-regal flair, ignoring the tightness in his chest.

James walked toward Lily, trying for casual, and Sirius watched their voices tangle into that familiar, snappy rhythm, James’s cocky one-liners, Lily’s exasperated retorts. For a second, Sirius thought he saw her smile, and James’s answering grin nearly knocked him sideways.

Perfect. Distraction achieved.

Sirius slipped out of his chair, heart pounding for an entirely different reason. Because in the far corner, half-hidden by the shelves, his little brother was hunched over parchment, quill scratching in neat, precise strokes. Regulus looked small, drawn, too composed in a way that made Sirius’s stomach twist.

Now was his chance.

Sirius padded between the rows until he reached the back table. He didn’t bother with subtlety; he dropped into the seat across from Regulus with a deliberate thud.

Regulus’s quill froze. Slowly, he lifted his head, his expression smooth and cool as glass. “What do you want, Sirius?”

Sirius leaned forward, elbows on the table, trying for a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “To talk. Properly this time. You’ve been avoiding me.”

Regulus didn’t even glance at it, his quill still scratching across the parchment, his face composed in that way Sirius knew meant he was barely holding it together.

“You okay?” Sirius asked softly. The words felt stupid the second they left his mouth. Of course he wasn’t okay.

Regulus’s quill froze, but he didn’t look up. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Sirius swallowed, trying to tamp down the frustration rising in his chest. Fine. Different angle. “Alright, then. How’s home been?”

That got a reaction. Regulus’s head lifted slowly, his eyes sharp, narrowed, like knives glinting in candlelight. “Why do you even care? You went off to be with who you really wanted. So it doesn’t matter what I feel, does it?”

The words knocked Sirius back, left him blinking. “What? Are you talking about James?”

Regulus gave him a long, dull look, the kind that made Sirius feel twelve years old again, stupid and transparent. “Obviously.”

Sirius leaned back in his chair, thrown. Regulus’s voice wasn’t raised, but the bitterness cut deeper than shouting. “It’s been years since we came to Hogwarts. And what did you do, Sirius? You pretended I didn’t exist. Always under Potter, laughing, smiling, playing the rebel, while I was—” He cut himself off, jaw tight. “While I was left behind.”

Sirius’s gut twisted. He wanted to argue, to say that wasn’t fair, but the truth was sharper than denial. In his first life, that’s exactly what he’d done. Regulus had been a symbol of everything Sirius hated; their family, their name, the suffocating chains of Black legacy. And James had been freedom, a lifeline, an entirely new world. Sirius had grabbed onto that and hadn’t looked back.

His voice cracked when he finally spoke. “You’re right. I did abandon you. And it was easier to run off with James than deal with how much I hated everything at home. I saw you as part of that. And I’m sorry, Reg. I am. For all of it. I’ll say sorry a hundred more times if I have to, because I lost you once already.” His throat felt tight. “I don’t want to do it again.”

Regulus’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “You’re sorry,” he echoed, almost mocking. “You always are. And then you’ll go right back to Potter’s side and forget I exist again.”

Sirius grits his teeth. “I’m trying. I swear I’m trying. What do you want from me?”

For the first time, Regulus set his quill down. He sat back, folding his arms, studying Sirius with that cool, infuriating calm. “Why were you there last night? Why follow me and Mulciber?”

Sirius blinked, taken aback. “Because we never talked after… after Yule. You didn’t answer my letter. Father wouldn’t tell me anything. I had to reach out on my own. So, yeah...I came looking for you. Peace offering in hand. And instead I saw you being a complete idiot sneaking around with dangerous bastards late in the night.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t my idea. Mulciber dragged me along last minute. I wasn’t supposed to be there at all.”

Sirius leaned forward. “Did he say anything? About what happened?”

“Only that his head was splitting. He stumbled into the dorm this morning, dazed, complaining about body aches.” Regulus’s mouth tightened. “But he didn’t look at me. Not once.”

Sirius felt the knot in his chest loosen slightly. “Good. He keeps his mouth shut, and there are no loose ends.” He rubbed at his face. “Merlin help me, Reg, don’t make me tie up another.”

Regulus’s gaze flicked over to Sirius. “You’re not going to stop hovering now, are you?”

“Nope,” Sirius said, chipper than he meant, because the thought of losing his brother again turned his insides cold. He forced himself to soften. “I want to start fresh. Just… us. No pretending. No dodging.”

For a moment, Regulus just stared at him. Then his lips curved into the faintest smirk. “Fine. But you have to give up, James Potter.”

The words blindsided Sirius. “What?”

“You heard me. Him or me.”

Sirius’s laugh was startled, bitter. “I can’t do that.”

“I knew you’d say that.” Regulus leaned back, looking smug in a hollow sort of way. “Then I’ll think of another price. Maybe your firstborn child.”

Sirius barked a laugh, trying to shake off the sting. “Then you’ll be waiting a bloody long time. I don’t plan on having sprogs. You’ll probably be the one continuing the line.”

At that, Regulus’s expression slipped. His mouth twisted, his eyes going sharp and cold. “Don’t count on it.”

The air hung heavy. Sirius swallowed, then pushed away from the table, leaning over to wrap his arms around his brother. Regulus stiffened, his thin shoulders taut under Sirius’s hold, before he gave the smallest tug to pull away.

“Baby steps,” Sirius murmured against his hair, holding tight anyway. He could feel his brother trembling. “We’ll talk about what happened. Just… not today.”

Regulus let him hold on, silent, his eyes fixed on the far wall. And Sirius, for the first time in years, felt like he had his brother back. Regulus finally exhaled, shoulders sinking as though the weight of the night before was pulling him down. But when he lifted his gaze, his eyes weren’t sharp anymore, just tired. He flicked his quill between his fingers and asked, “So why were you even in the library, Sirius? Don’t tell me you came here for the ambiance.”

Sirius grinned, leaning back in his chair with theatrical laziness. “Studying.”

Regulus let out the most inelegant snort, shaking his head. “Now I know you’re lying. Sirius Black, sitting still for more than ten minutes, with books? Unbelievable.”

“Oi!” Sirius clutched at his chest, feigning injury. “I’ll have you know I was working very hard with transfiguration, no less. I even sharpened my quill for the occasion.”

Regulus arched a brow, unimpressed. “Right. And I suppose next you’ll tell me you spent breakfast reading.”

“Did too,” Sirius said smugly. “The Prophet counts.”

For a second, the corner of Regulus’s mouth twitched upward, the smallest, most reluctant hint of a smile. It was enough to make Sirius’s chest ache with a kind of warmth he hadn’t felt in years. This. This was what he wanted.

Still, he couldn’t resist needling. “Merlin’s beard, did my baby brother just smile at me? Careful, Reg, you’ll ruin your brooding aesthetic.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but the jab didn’t sting this time. Instead, he dipped his quill back into the inkwell, muttering, “Don’t push your luck.”

Sirius leaned forward again, tone dropping. “Hey. I meant to tell you… Father said Walburga’s been checked into some kind of care facility. In France.”

That got Regulus’s full attention. He blinked, quill hovering midair. “What?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said quietly, studying his brother’s face. “You didn’t notice she wasn’t around after the holidays?”

Regulus set the quill down slowly, his expression flickering between disbelief and something sharper. “No. I wasn’t exactly looking for her.” His voice was clipped, almost defensive. “Orion just said he had work to handle. I assumed she was haunting the house like always. The place has been mostly mine.”

Sirius tilted his head. “You sound almost pleased about that.”

Regulus shrugged, eyes back on his parchment, though his hand didn’t move. “Peace and quiet isn’t exactly a tragedy.”

Sirius didn’t push, though he filed the reaction away. If even Regulus hadn’t known… then Orion was keeping more cards to himself than Sirius realized.

Before he could ask anything else, Regulus sighed and started gathering his books. “I have to go. Barty’s expecting me.”

Sirius raised a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Barty Crouch Jr.? Expecting you? Sounds serious. What’s this, Reg? Got yourself a crush?”

Regulus gave him a flat, withering look that would’ve been more effective if the tips of his ears hadn’t gone faintly pink. “You’re insufferable.” He stood, tucking his quill into his bag before Sirius could tease him further. “We’ll talk later.”

“Mhmm,” Sirius said, all smugness as he watched his brother stalk off. “Sure thing, little brother. Tell your friend I said hi.”

Regulus didn’t dignify that with a response, disappearing between the shelves. Sirius leaned back in his chair, grin lingering. They were still bruised and awkward, but that moment of banter felt like something new. Something good.

He pushed himself up and made his way back toward the front of the library, weaving past students hunched over their parchment.

There, by the entrance, James Potter was walking away from a blushing Lily Evans, his hazel eyes glinting with smug victory. Lily clutched a book like a shield, muttering something sharp under her breath before making a hasty exit, her cheeks pink. James watched her go with a grin that could have lit the whole bloody library.

Sirius sidled up beside him, hands in his pockets, voice casual. “Well, well. Someone’s pleased with himself.”

James tried to look innocent, failing miserably. “What? We were just talking.”

Sirius raised a brow. “Talking? That looked more like verbal dueling with a side of flirting.”

“She started it,” James muttered, but he was still smiling like an idiot.

Sirius clapped him on the back. “Whatever you say, Prongs. Now, about that paper you still owe me help with.”

James groaned. “Help, yes. Writing it for you? Absolutely not. I don’t even want to write my own.”

“Typical,” Sirius said with a smirk as they pushed the library doors open together. “But you’re still brilliant at it, so I’ll take what I can get.”

James shook his head fondly. “You’re impossible.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” Sirius shot back, their laughter carrying down the corridor as they fell back into step, side by side.

The Great Hall buzzed with the usual midday chaos, clatter of cutlery, owls swooping down in messy flurries, laughter bouncing from table to table. Sirius was sprawled at the Gryffindor table, pretending to listen to Peter ramble about some new broom catalogue, while his own mind spun in loops. Regulus’s sharp words from yesterday still scraped raw at the edges of his thoughts.

“Pads.” Remus nudged him with the edge of a pumpkin pasty. “You’ve been staring at nothing for ten minutes. At least try to pretend you’re listening.”

Sirius smirked faintly, snapping out of it. “I was listening. Wormtail’s going to bankrupt himself on a broom he can’t even fly properly.”

“Oi!” Peter squawked, cheeks pink.

Remus rolled his eyes, lips twitching, but before Sirius could volley another jab, the shadow of wings swept across the table. An owl — no, not just any owl. One of Hogwarts’ school owls, with a scroll tied neatly to its leg. It swooped low, ignoring James’s attempts to swipe it mid-air, and dropped the scroll right in front of Sirius.

The wax seal glinted red-gold.

Sirius’s stomach dropped.

He knew that seal.

He didn’t move at first, just stared, every instinct telling him to shove it away, pretend it wasn’t there. But James was already craning his neck, a roll halfway to his mouth. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Sirius said quickly, too quickly. He broke the seal with stiff fingers, scanning the short note.

Mr. Black,
Please come to my office at your earliest convenience this evening.
— A. Dumbledore

Sirius’s throat went dry. His gaze flicked up before he could stop himself.

And there, at the staff table, Dumbledore was looking at him. Not piercing, not scolding — just a faint, knowing smile beneath the sweep of his silver beard. Then, as though nothing had happened, he turned smoothly back to Professor Sprout, as if Sirius had never existed.

Sirius’s blood ran cold.

James leaned in, trying to read the parchment over his shoulder. “What’d he say?”

Sirius snapped the letter shut, slipping it into his robes with an exaggerated grin. “Probably wants to tell me how brilliant I’ve been this year. Can’t blame him. I have been very charming lately.”

James raised his brows, unimpressed. “You? Charming to professors?”

“It’s a new era,” Sirius said breezily, grabbing a roll off the table. “Get used to it.”

But Remus was watching him too closely. Always watching. His amber eyes lingered, sharp as glass. “No,” he said slowly, “Dumbledore doesn’t call students to his office for praise. He barely calls prefects unless there’s real trouble.”

Sirius barked a laugh that rang too loud in his own ears. “So what? You think I’m in trouble, Moony? Please. If I were, McGonagall would’ve already hexed my arse into the floor.”

Peter laughed nervously, James smirked half-heartedly, and just like that, the conversation veered away to safer ground. But Sirius barely tasted the bite of bread he shoved in his mouth. His mind kept circling the same thought, over and over, like a snare tightening around his ribs

Does he know?

The gargoyle slid aside with a lazy scrape, and Sirius stepped onto the moving staircase. His palms were damp inside his robes, though he told himself there was nothing to be nervous about. He was Sirius Black. Gryffindor, Marauder, charming bastard extraordinaire. He didn’t get nervous.

Except, apparently, when Albus Dumbledore summoned him.

The office was as it always was, warm lamplight glinting off odd contraptions, a faint sweetness of lemon drops in the air, and the quiet weight of Fawkes’s gaze from his perch. Dumbledore rose when Sirius entered, hands folded loosely, blue eyes twinkling.

“Mr. Black,” he said, voice all genial silk. “Do sit down. Tea?”

Sirius swallowed, forcing a lopsided grin as he dropped into the chair opposite the desk. “Sure, why not? Always fancied a cuppa with the headmaster. Adds to my mystique.”

Dumbledore smiled faintly as he poured. He handed Sirius a steaming cup, then took his own seat with the patience of a man who did not need to hurry. “I trust your studies are keeping you occupied?”

“As occupied as McGonagall wants them to be,” Sirius said lightly. He sipped the tea; chamomile, soothing, irritatingly soothing. And waited because Dumbledore hadn’t called him up here to chat about coursework.

The silence stretched, broken only by the quiet tick of some enchanted device on the shelf. Then Dumbledore set down his teacup, folded his hands, and regarded Sirius with that unsettling calm.

“I had a note from Madame Roberta,” he said gently, as though recounting a quaint anecdote. “You know she runs a business in Hogsmeade. She told me she heard… quite a bit of commotion outside her shop a few nights past. Crashing, shouting. Enough that she considered Flooing the authorities.”

Sirius’s throat went dry. He forced his face into a mask of vague disinterest. “Bit of a rowdy crowd, then?”

Dumbledore’s gaze didn’t waver. “I was concerned, so I went to look at myself this morning. The snow was disturbed. More curious, however, was what I found tucked by the side of a building.”

He paused, long enough that Sirius’s grip on his teacup nearly slipped.

“One of Hogwarts’ own plates. From the kitchens. With treacle tart nearby.”

The words dropped into the space like stones into deep water. Sirius didn’t breathe.

“I asked the elves, of course,” Dumbledore went on, still perfectly calm. “They were hesitant at first, but I am very persuasive when I need to be. It seems only one student requested a personal plate that evening. Would you care to guess whose name was given to me?”

The silence was thick enough to choke on.

Dumbledore’s eyes gleamed behind his half-moon spectacles, patient, waiting, as though this was all an elaborate test and Sirius had the answer somewhere inside him.

Sirius swallowed hard. For once, words, his constant weapon, his endless shield, refused to come. He opened his mouth, closed it again, the grin he tried to muster faltering under the weight of those blue eyes. For the first time in a very long while, he had absolutely nothing to say.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers, the lines around his mouth unreadable. “So, Mr. Black. Why don’t we try again? What happened in Hogsmeade last night?”

Sirius straightened, lifting his chin. If he slouched, he’d look like a guilty schoolboy. If he smirked, he’d look like he was hiding something. He needed to strike a balance, careless but not reckless.

“I was arguing,” Sirius said, his tone deliberately dry. “With Avery. He’s a prat, and he said something I didn’t like. Voices were raised. Wands waved. Nothing serious.”

Dumbledore’s brow quirked ever so slightly. “And the plate of treacle tart?”

Sirius shrugged, leaning back in his chair with exaggerated laziness. “I was hungry. I got it from the kitchen and forgot I was carrying it when Avery mouthed off. Thought I could eat while I yelled at him. Turns out tart and dueling don’t mix.”

The headmaster studied him, eyes too sharp, too still. “Curious,” he murmured. “Yet your story doesn’t quite… add up. Would you care to one last time?”

Something in the way he said it made Sirius’s stomach knot. It wasn’t a question. It was an opening, a chance to confess. And then Sirius remembered, with a sick lurch, what Dumbledore was known for.

Legilimency.

Bloody hell.

Sirius forced his face into a mask, but his mind raced. He hadn’t practiced Occlumency, not once. He’d meant to it had been on his long list of things to master before Voldemort’s war swallowed them whole, but life and chaos and Marauder mischief had shoved it aside. And now here he was, staring into the eyes of a wizard who could sift through lies like sand through fingers.

Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, his voice still gentle. “You are clever, Sirius. Quick with words. But words can be masks, and masks are easily broken. I would much prefer the truth.”

Sirius’s throat tightened. The truth. Which one? That he’d slaughtered Fenrir Greyback with a bloody kitchen knife and buried him in the snow? That Regulus had been there, nearly dragged into hell with him? That the neat little world Dumbledore thought he commanded had already fractured in ways he couldn’t imagine?

No. No, Sirius couldn’t give him that. He’d protect Regulus, he’d protect himself, he’d protect the secret of that night with teeth and claws if he had to.

So he did what Sirius Black always did best: he played the reckless card. He leaned forward, grin sharp and defiant, and said, “Alright, fine. You want the truth? I’m from the future.”

The words dropped into the room like a curse.

Dumbledore didn’t blink. His eyes stayed on Sirius, calm as ever, though something flickered behind them. Not shock Dumbledore didn’t shock easily. But interest. Calculation.

“From the future,” he repeated mildly, as though Sirius had said from London.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, leaning back again, throwing his boots up on the edge of the chair like he hadn’t just signed his own death warrant. “I don’t expect you to believe me. Sounds mad, doesn’t it? But it’s a damn sight better than the alternative explanation you were fishing for. So there. That’s your truth.”

The silence between them was thick, punctuated only by the soft rustle of Fawkes shifting on his perch.

Then Dumbledore’s mouth curved, not into a smile, but into something unreadable. “Curious,” he said softly. “Very curious indeed.”

The silence stretched, taut as a bowstring. Dumbledore’s gaze didn’t waver, his eyes that infuriating blue calm, but Sirius could feel the weight behind them, the subtle pressure that made his skin crawl.

“From the future,” the headmaster repeated, as if tasting the words.

Sirius laughed sharply, the sound brittle. “Yeah. Mad, right? But I figured it was better than letting you dig around in my head. You won’t find much there except hair products and bad decisions anyway.”

Dumbledore didn’t smile. He simply sat, waiting, like a hunter content to let the prey circle itself into exhaustion.

Sirius’s pulse hammered. Bloody hell, he was cracking already. He leaned forward, words tumbling faster than he meant them to. “Look, I know how it sounds, but I’m not lying. Voldemort—” he spat the name, watching for the slightest twitch “he’s not just after power. He’s building himself an army of children. He’s got half the Slytherin common room eating out of his hand, and he’ll keep doing it until he has a generation raised on his poison.”

That flicker, there, in Dumbledore’s eyes. Interest. Recognition. Sirius pressed on, reckless. “And the thing is, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t know how to stop. You think this is bad now? Give him a few more years and he’ll rip this country apart.”

He cut himself off, chest heaving. He’d said too much, too fast, his voice pitched almost frantic. The truth burned on his tongue, but he couldn’t spill everything, not Harry, not the prophecy, not the war the way he remembered it. He bit down hard on the rest, knuckles white where his fists clenched on his knees.

Dumbledore regarded him in silence, head tilted slightly, as though Sirius were a particularly rare magical creature he hadn’t quite classified yet. Then he leaned back, the faintest hum leaving his throat.

“Curious,” he said again, voice soft, measured. “Very curious indeed.”

And just like that, he stood, moving to his shelves as if the conversation had been nothing more than an academic exercise. “That will be all, Mr. Black. Do have a good evening.”

Dismissed.

Sirius blinked, the floor dropping out from under him. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Dumbledore didn’t turn. He selected a book, brushing a finger along its spine. “I’ve found, over the years, that people will reveal far more in time than they intend to in the moment. Especially those who are… clever enough to know what not to say.”

Sirius’s mouth went dry. He stood slowly, legs wooden, and backed toward the door. The headmaster didn’t look at him again, didn’t ask another question. As if Sirius had walked in, declared himself a time traveler, and been met with nothing more than a note in the margins.

Out in the corridor, the door clicked shut behind him. Sirius pressed his palms to his face, cursing under his breath. Had he thrown Dumbledore off? Had he just hung a noose around his own neck? Or had the old man actually believed him?

He didn’t know. And that was worse.

The air bit sharply at his face as Sirius slipped out past the gates, cloak tight around his shoulders. His heart was still thudding too fast from the meeting with Dumbledore, the headmaster’s voice echoing in his skull …curious… very curious indeed. It made his skin crawl.

He needed to be sure.

So he ducked into side paths, sticking to the edges of Hogsmeade, weaving through narrow lanes and half-forgotten alleys, where the snow lay undisturbed and the lamps burned low. His boots crunched against the ice, too loud in his own ears. Every turn, every shadow, he half expected a hand on his shoulder, a voice telling him he’d been found out.

When he reached the far edge, the place where he and Regulus had dug into frozen earth with shaking wands, he stopped dead.

The snow was smooth, the ground solid. No claws of grey fur jutting out, no awful glimpse of bone. No sign of the blood that had stained everything red the night before. Just silence. Just winter.

Sirius let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, dragging a hand down his face. His lungs felt raw, his chest tight. The whole scene was too clean, as though it had swallowed the horror whole and left nothing behind.

“Good,” he muttered, though his voice shook. “Good.”

He turned sharply on his heel, forcing his stride steady as he began the long walk back toward the castle. The cold seeped through his boots, gnawing at his toes, but his mind was louder than his body.

Should he tell Regulus? Should he press his brother tonight, update him, reassure him? Regulus had looked pale enough in the library, sharp-edged and drawn. Dragging him back into this mess might do more harm than good… but leaving him in the dark? Sirius hated it.

He shoved his hands deeper into his cloak, jaw set against the sting of the wind. Either way, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the ground behind him was still watching. That something buried wasn’t done with him yet.

The Gryffindor common room hummed with the usual late-afternoon buzz, card games at one corner, the crackle of the fire in the grate, and a few stressed seventh-years muttering over parchment. Sirius pushed through it all, his limbs heavy, the lingering bite of the February cold still clinging to his skin.

He spotted them straightaway. James and Remus, heads tilted together at one of the couches near the fire. James’s hands moved as he spoke, animated, and Remus leaned in, smirking faintly like he was about to cut him down with a sharp remark.

Sirius hovered for a second, torn between the empty spot at James’s side and the quieter place by Remus. Didn’t matter. His body decided for him, carrying him toward them until he dropped onto the couch between them with a thud, sprawling like he belonged there.

Both of them looked up.

“Bloody hell, Pads,” James said, his hand brushing Sirius’s sleeve. His brows furrowed. “You’re freezing.”

Sirius jerked slightly at the touch, then forced a crooked grin. “Was outside. Smoke break.”

Remus’s eyes narrowed, more curious than judgmental. “Since when do you smoke?”

That earned a sharper grin. “What, Moony, worried about my lungs?” Sirius leaned back, tossing his hair from his eyes. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I only was outside taking a walk and playing in the snow.”

But his voice lacked its usual lilt, and Remus noticed. He always noticed.

James, though, just gave him a searching look before shifting closer, shoulder pressing warm against Sirius’s. That steady, grounding presence. It should’ve been a comfort. Instead, Sirius’s stomach twisted.

“So,” Remus said after a moment, his quill tapping against his knee. “How’d it go with Dumbledore?”

James perked up immediately. “Yeah, Pads. What’d he want?”

For one awful heartbeat, Sirius’s mind went blank, like his skull had been scooped clean. He saw Dumbledore’s calm, knowing smile, the way his words seemed to hang heavy even after he’d stopped speaking.

He forced a shrug, casual, careless. “Oh, you know. Usual Headmaster rubbish. Something about ” his brain snatched the first safe lie it could find “how I’ve been… improving this year. Attitude-wise.”

James blinked. “So he actually called you in to praise you?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Prongs,” Sirius smirked weakly, stretching out across the couch until his boots tapped the hearth. “I’m brilliant when I put my mind to it. He just wanted to say well done.”

Remus tilted his head, skeptical, but didn’t push. James, bless him, grinned, giving Sirius’s arm a firm clap. “Knew it. McGonagall’s sighs of despair must finally be paying off.”

“Careful,” Sirius muttered, the words almost swallowed by a yawn. “Your jealousy is showing.”

But the grin didn’t last. His head felt heavy, his mind too cluttered and blank all at once. He let himself sink deeper into the couch, hair falling over his eyes as he stared at the fire. The voices in the common room blurred together, the warmth of the flames tugging at the chill still locked in his bones.

And for once, Sirius Black, sharp-tongued, quick-witted, never still, didn’t think of another word to say.

Chapter Text

Snow swallowed the world whole.

It fell too thick to see through, white swallowing white until sky and ground became the same blank expanse. Sirius ran anyway. His lungs burned; every breath scraped like glass. The cold sliced his throat raw. His boots hit snow that gave too much, then not enough, each step heavier than the last. He looked down once, and the prints he left behind filled themselves in, erasing him.

He tried to breathe slower, quieter, but the air hissed loudly against his teeth. Nothing else made a sound. Not the wind. Not the trees. Just his breath and the soft drag of his cloak through the drifts.

A shadow moved ahead. Big. Still.

Sirius stopped. The air thickened, pressing at his chest until it hurt to inhale.

The storm thinned enough to show a man’s outline. Broad shoulders, heavy arms, hunched neck. Blood dotted the snow around his boots in lazy constellations. When the figure raised his head, the world tilted.

Fenrir Greyback.

Not dead. Not even hurt. Whole.

Sirius’s knees almost gave. His throat locked, and he reached for his wand—nothing. His belt was empty, hands bare. The air tasted of iron and ice.

Greyback’s grin showed every yellow tooth. Snowflakes stuck to his beard, pink where they touched the blood. “Run,” he said mockingly, voice thick with a growl that lived somewhere between man and beast.

Sirius backed up, shaking his head, tears pricking his eyes. “Stay away from me!”

The werewolf inhaled through his nose, slow and deep, the way a butcher sizes up meat. His nostrils flared; the sound was wet, obscene. Then he exhaled against Sirius’s face, hot, humid, rank. The stench of rot and damp fur and something sweet gone bad. It coated Sirius’s tongue.

He turned and ran.

The world refused to move right. His legs pumped, snow burst under him, but the ground crawled past sluggishly, like he was running through syrup. Every heartbeat took an age. The silence cracked behind him with a sound like laughter. A weight hit his back, claws dug in, and the white exploded upward. They slammed into the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of him. The sky swung overhead. Claws pinned his chest; snow packed into his mouth when he gasped. He tried to shout and choked on it.

Greyback leaned down until his lips almost brushed Sirius’s ear. “Now I’ve got the both of you.”

Then the claws raked. They didn’t slice, they hooked, tearing as they went. Heat flooded his stomach, too bright, too sudden. He felt the skin split beneath him, the drag of it. The pain came in a second wave, thick and nauseating, the smell of copper blooming warm through the cold. His cry cracked, turned into a gasp.

He clawed at the werewolf’s arm, fingers slipping on blood. “Please—”

The word froze half-formed.

Over Greyback’s shoulder, he saw movement in the snow—someone sprawled, hair black against the white.

“Regulus?”

He blinked hard, breath coming fast and shallow. The figure didn’t move.

Greyback shifted aside just enough for him to see.

Regulus lay face down, coat torn halfway down the back. The flesh beneath looked chewed. One arm was missing past the elbow; the other was bent the wrong way, the hand still clutching a wand. His head lolled toward Sirius. The skin of his throat was gone. The eyes were wide and glassy, empty of life. Sirius’s hand twitched out desperately, trembling toward him. “No—”

Sirius’s chest heaved. He tried to crawl toward him, dragging himself through his own blood, but his hands sank too deep into the drifts. He couldn’t make a purchase. The world slowed, thick and heavy, each breath a battle. His heartbeat roared in his ears until he couldn’t hear anything else.

Greyback’s hand slid into his hair and yanked his head back. “Your turn,” he rasped. His breath carried the stink of rot and raw flesh.

Sirius’s vision went white. He felt the teeth graze his neck, felt hot spit touch his skin—

He screamed.

And woke.

He bolted upright, choking, his chest heaving as though claws still pressed there. Sweat soaked through his shirt, but the cold was in his bones, searing, raw. He clutched his throat with shaking fingers, certain he’d find it torn open.

Nothing. Only his own rasping breath.

He lurched from the bed, desperate not to wake James, Remus, or Wormtail. His bare feet slapped against stone as he staggered into the bathroom, barely making it before the nausea surged. He collapsed to his knees, clutching porcelain, and retched until bile scalded his throat. Each gag ripped through him like claws, each choke a fresh wave of panic.

Stone met his knees. Light, too bright. The slap of water against porcelain. The sound of retching.

He was in the bathroom, clutching the toilet bowl, his body shaking so hard his teeth clacked. He vomited again until there was nothing left, just bile and air and a raw ache in his throat. The smell of blood and rot clung to him even here, even under the sharp sting of soap and cold tile.

He pressed his forehead to the cool porcelain, gasping, waiting for the world to make sense again.

Regulus’s eyes. The snow. The whisper. Now I’ve got the both of you.

He shut his eyes, but the white stayed behind them.

Sleep wouldn’t come again tonight.

The morning light pouring through the Great Hall’s high windows felt cruel. Too bright, too cheerful. Sirius sat slouched at the Gryffindor table, hair yanked back into a ponytail so tight it pulled at his temples. His face, usually all sharp confidence, looked drawn, shadows under his eyes giving him a hollow sort of beauty.

The plate in front of him was mostly untouched. He poked at a slice of toast until it broke apart into flakes. His stomach twisted at the thought of eating.

“Merlin, Pads,” James said around a mouthful of bacon, leaning closer with a lopsided grin that didn’t quite mask his concern. “You look like death warmed over. Why didn’t you wake me if you were feeling rough?”

Sirius shook his head automatically, not trusting his voice.

That was when Wormtail piped up from across the table. “He doesn’t look completely awful.”

Sirius’s head snapped up. The glare he leveled at Wormtail could have melted steel. Wormtail immediately ducked down over his porridge, spoon clinking nervously as he avoided Sirius’s eyes.

James snorted, though his arm came up to rest warm and solid against Sirius’s back, thumb brushing soft circles there. “Ignore him. He wouldn’t know good looks if they hexed him.”

Sirius let his head drop into his hands, elbows braced on the table. His hair slid loose, strands escaping the taut pull of the ponytail to curtain his face.

Remus, ever the steady one, rolled his eyes as he folded his timetable shut. “If you two are finished, we need to get moving. Defense Against the Dark Arts in ten minutes.”

“Joy,” Sirius muttered into his palms.

But he didn’t move. Not until James’s hand pressed more firmly against his back, a steady weight, grounding him. Sirius drew in a slow breath, exhaled, and finally pushed himself upright. His stomach still rolled at the sight of food, but he forced a smirk anyway.

“Fine,” he said, dragging his cloak around his shoulders. “But if I fall asleep in class, you’re explaining it to our dear professor.”

James grinned, helping him up by the elbow as if Sirius hadn’t been the one dragging him around only yesterday. “Deal. I’ll just tell him you were up late writing poetry about me.” Sirius huffed a laugh, faint but real. Still, the weight under his ribs didn’t lift. Not yet.

The stone corridors still held the chill of winter, but shafts of sunlight were breaking through the tall windows now, bouncing off the floor in golden puddles. For the first time in weeks, the snow had given way to slick cobblestones and patches of muddy earth. Students walked with lighter steps, voices higher, talk spilling over with plans for stolen hours on the grounds or a quick trip to Hogsmeade.

Sirius heard James pointing out Quidditch conditions—“Pitch’ll be dry enough by Saturday, you’ll see”—while Remus and Wormtail argued about whether it was too early in the year to ditch cloaks. Their chatter washed over him, bright and ordinary, and he let it. He was tired of how heavy his own thoughts had become.

But when they pushed through the door into Defense Against the Dark Arts, the air shifted.

No, Ryan Cunningham.

Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the room, tall and sharp as ever, her lips pressed into a line that made the room go quiet faster than a silencing charm. Sirius faltered mid-step, blinking as though the sight itself were an illusion. His body moved on autopilot, sliding into the seat beside James. James draped his arm across the back of Sirius’s chair like he always did, comfortable, steady. Sirius leaned into it without realizing, staring ahead at McGonagall.

“Settle down, please,” she said, voice brisk. Her eyes swept the room, narrowing on stragglers. “As you can see, Professor Cunningham is not here. He has been called away on urgent family business. Effective immediately, he will not be returning to Hogwarts.”

The words landed like a curse.

For a heartbeat, the room was silent. Then the noise broke like a dam. Whispers burst out in every corner, students twisting in their seats, speculating, snickering, calling questions. Sirius’s stomach clenched.

Family emergency.

The words echoed in his head, dull and wrong. Ryan Cunningham had no family. Not really. Sirius remembered the man’s voice one night years from now—or what had been years for him—low and scornful as he told Sirius about the older brother he never spoke to, how their parents had died when they were children, and the bond had rotted into nothing. He’d said it like he was talking about a stranger, someone already gone. “He could catch fire in front of me and I wouldn’t piss on him to put it out.” That was how Ryan had put it. Final. Cold.

And Sirius remembered, too, how Cunningham had finished the year, stayed until June before drifting on to the next shiny opportunity, restless and clever and bored with teaching. He had told Sirius, slightly drunk, sitting in the Hog’s Head, that he wasn’t cut out for classrooms, that he wanted something bigger. He’d laughed, said Sirius could owl him if he ever wanted, that his door would always be open.

But this. This wasn’t that.

This was different. This was wrong.

Sirius stared at the front of the classroom as if the answer might appear in the lines of McGonagall’s robes. His pulse drummed in his ears. Why had the timeline shifted? Was it because of him? Because he’d gone into Ryan’s office that night, let things get too close? Because he’d killed Greyback? Or had Dumbledore’s eyes seen too much?

He didn’t even realize his hand had curled tight on his thigh until James shifted, his arm brushing Sirius’s shoulder. “You alright?” James murmured, low enough for only him to hear.

Sirius forced a grin, too quick, too sharp. “Defense was my favorite class, Prongs. Didn’t you know?”

James raised a brow, unconvinced, but McGonagall spoke again before he could press.

“For today, treat this period as study time. I’ll return shortly. There are matters I must discuss with the headmaster.”

And with a sweep of her robes, she was gone.

The room erupted.

Students leaned across aisles, speculating about scandal, danger, or dueling gone wrong. A Ravenclaw in the front row insisted the Ministry must have recruited him for something top secret. A Hufflepuff countered that maybe his mother had fallen ill.

Remus, quill already twirling in his fingers, had that particular gleam in his eyes, the one that meant he was about to spin theories. “You know,” he said, leaning closer to their corner, “Cunningham always did seem restless. Maybe he’s been offered a better post. Or what if it’s the war? Maybe he’s joined up with Dumbledore directly. It would explain the suddenness—”

Sirius barely heard him.

The chatter pressed at his skull, every guess and rumor scraping against the truth he alone carried: this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

Ryan wasn’t supposed to leave. Not like this.

Sirius sat back, the noise blurring around him, and for the first time in weeks, he felt the ground beneath his feet tilt.

The timeline had shifted again.

And he had no idea why.

The lake glittered, water flashing like cut glass beneath a sky washed pale with sun. Snowmelt ran in thin silver veins down the slopes, sinking into the earth still half-frozen. The air smelled of thaw—wet grass, iron, the faint rot of leaves released from ice. Students sprawled everywhere: cloaks used as blankets, using spells to keep themselves warm and dry, faces tipped toward the first weak warmth. Laughter came in bursts that echoed off the water, too bright for February.

Sirius sat with his back against a half-thawed boulder, knees drawn up, cloak spread wide to keep off the damp. Beside him, James lounged like a prince with the whole of Hogwarts for a court, flicking his personal Snitch into the air and catching it between two fingers. The wings whirred, annoyed. James smirked, sunlight gilding the curve of his cheek and the edge of his glasses.

Remus sat cross-legged on Sirius’s other side, hair in his face, a battered book open on his knee. Wormtail knelt at his feet, coaxing a length of bewitched string that knotted itself and hissed when he tried to untangle it. The air buzzed with chatter and the shriek of someone daring someone else to dip a foot in the freezing lake.

Sirius pretended to listen. He even laughed at the right moments when James joked about Slughorn’s class, but the sound came wrong, hollow. Every heartbeat thudded with the thought he couldn’t lose: Cunningham was gone. Vanished overnight. No farewell, no trace. The excuse about “urgent family business” was a lie, and Sirius knew it.

James tossed the Snitch again, caught it blind, show-off smooth. “Pads,” he said suddenly, grin lazy. “You’ve gone quiet. You’ll depress the ducks.”

“I’m fine,” Sirius muttered.

“Liar,” James said easily, but his eyes softened, the grin edging toward something gentler. He glanced past Sirius’s shoulder, and the light shifted, playful, plotting. “Actually… I think I’ve just had a brilliant idea.”

Sirius’s stomach dropped. “Prongs,” he warned.

Too late. James was already up, Snitch pocketed, wand sliding into his hand. The warmth around the lake didn’t fade—it snapped, like a soap bubble breaking.

“Oi, Snivellus!”

The word cracked across the water. Conversations stumbled, then stopped. Heads turned. A few laughs came too quickly, nervous or eager. Sirius’s spine locked.

Across the grass, Severus Snape turned slowly. The wind caught his greasy hair, flinging it across a face gone taut with dread. His robe hem was crusted with mud, his fingers stained. He didn’t answer. He just walked faster, shoulders hunched like he could fold himself small enough to vanish.

James followed, loose-hipped, the kind of swagger that begged for a spotlight. “Don’t walk away when I’m complimenting you, mate!”

“Prongs,” Sirius said again, sharper, but James didn’t hear, or pretended not to.

Remus lowered his book. “James.” Quiet, warning.

Wormtail bounced on his heels, eyes alight. “This’ll be good,” he muttered.

Sirius’s chest tightened. The sunlight felt too bright, the laughter too near. He knew this scene; he’d lived it once already, thought it buried under years and Azkaban walls. But the world had reset, and here it was again, cruelly new.

James’s wand flicked. The spell hit like a whip crack, invisible but loud. Snape jerked upward, flipping end over end until he hung by one ankle, robes falling over his head. His pale legs kicked, frantic. The crowd gasped, then cheered. Laughter rippled outward, greedy.

Sirius’s stomach turned over.

James laughed, and for a second, Sirius saw the boy he’d loved like a brother, bright and golden, not yet broken by war. But that boy’s grin looked wrong now, stretched too wide, fed by other people’s pain.

“Bit of fresh air, Snivellus?” James called. “Can’t have you skulking round spoiling the view.”

Sirius’s hands clenched on his knees. Move. He should move, should get up, drag James away, end this before it burns them all. But his legs might as well have been carved from ice. Shame settled over him like frost.

Remus shut his book with a snap. “James, enough.”

James barely looked back. “Lighten up, Moony. Pads is miserable. I’m helping.”

That hit like a slap. This was for him. To make Sirius laugh. Sirius couldn’t breathe.

Around them, the students had gathered in a loose ring. Hufflepuffs giggled nervously, Ravenclaws whispered theories about what Snape had done to deserve it. Near the front, Marlene McKinnon muttered, “Not again,” while Dorcas Meadowes watched, jaw tight. Mary Macdonald bit her lip, eyes on Lily Evans, who was already standing.

The air changed.

Lily’s voice cut through the noise. “LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Every sound dropped out—the laughter, the wind, even the faint lap of the lake. She strode forward, wand out, hair flaring like fire in the sun. Marlene reached to grab her arm; she shook her off. Dorcas and Mary followed close behind, tense, ready.

James froze, wand half-raised. He tried to recover, throwing up a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah, Evans, don’t make me hex you.”

“Take the curse off him.” Her tone could have frozen the lake again.

The silence stretched. Students shifted, uneasy. Sirius could hear the flutter of the Snitch in James’s pocket, wings beating against fabric.

At last James sighed, flicked his wand. Snape hit the ground hard, robes tangling around his legs. Mud splattered his face when he lurched to his feet. James grinned like it was all a joke. “You’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus.”

Snape’s breath rasped. His eyes, dark and wild, found Lily, and for a heartbeat, the world held still. Then he spat, every syllable a shard of glass. “I don’t need help from filthy Mudbloods like her!”

The word cracked the air.

It wasn’t a sound so much as a pressure change, the kind that makes ears ring. Every student felt it. Even the water stilled.

Lily’s expression emptied, all light gone. For a moment, she looked stunned, almost lost, and then her spine straightened. Her face set, porcelain-cold. Her voice was calm when it came. “Fine. I won’t bother again. And I’d wash your pants if I were you, Severus.”

She turned on her heel. Marlene and Dorcas closed in on either side of her, Mary a step behind, the three forming a wall between her and everyone else. They didn’t look back as they walked toward the castle, heads high. The crowd parted silently to let them pass.

Snape stood alone, trembling. His wand hand shook. Someone snickered. He flinched at the sound, spun, and bolted, robes whipping, shoes sliding in the wet grass, until the trees swallowed him.

The remaining students shuffled, whispers rising and falling. The laughter had curdled into something sour. One by one, they peeled away, drifting back toward the warmth of the castle.

James stayed where he was, wand limp at his side, grin gone. He raked a hand through his hair, leaving it worse. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. He looked at Sirius then, searching for a smile, a quip, forgiveness—anything.

Sirius stared back, silent. His grey eyes burned, hard and bright, full of disappointment and something that hurt more—recognition. He’d seen this before. He’d done nothing then, too.

James tried for a crooked grin. “Come on, Pads, don’t look at me like—”

The look Sirius gave him cut the words clean in half.

The bell rang, loud and shrill, a mercy. Students stirred, grateful for the excuse. Remus rose first, silent, Wormtail following, still glancing between them. James hesitated, eyes flicking after Lily’s retreating figure, then back to Sirius.

But Sirius was already moving, shoving his hands deep in his pockets, cloak snapping behind him as he strode up the slope. The wind bit his cheeks raw.

This wasn’t supposed to happen yet, he thought bitterly. It’s too soon. History’s already twisting. And I just sat there. Watching.

The Gryffindor dormitory was quieter than usual. Laughter still echoed from the common room below, muffled by stone and distance, but up here it was just the crackle of the fire and the creak of old wood. Sirius sat on the edge of his bed, pulling at the straps of his shoes, his hair falling loose around his face. He looked like he wanted to sink into the mattress and disappear.

James was sprawled in the chair near the window, legs stretched long, Quidditch-roughened hands fiddling with a stray Snitch feather. He’d come back from dinner later than the others, smelling faintly of McGonagall’s office and irritation. Detention, Sirius was sure of it, but James had shrugged it off like it was nothing.

Remus was propped against his headboard, no books in sight for once, watching them both carefully. Wormtail sat cross-legged at the foot of his own bed, eyes flicking nervously between his friends.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Sirius tugged at his shoes, turning away, clearly intent on ending the day without a word.

But James’s voice broke the silence, low and cutting. “You’re not going to speak to me at all, then?”

Sirius didn’t look up. “Drop it, James.”

“No.” James pushed himself upright, moving across the room until he was standing between Sirius and the firelight, arms folded. “You’ve been sulking since the lake, and I want to know why.”

Sirius gave a humorless laugh. “Sulking. That’s what you call it.”

“What else am I supposed to call it?” James snapped, though his tone was more frustrated than cruel. “It’s not like I hexed you. It was Snape. It’s always Snape. You didn’t care before.”

“Maybe I do now.” Sirius finally lifted his head, his grey eyes sharp in the dim light. “Did it ever cross your mind that you went too far?”

James blinked, caught off guard. “Too far? It was Snivellus! I’ve been doing that for years. You used to—hell, you still laugh about it half the time.”

Sirius shook his head, something tight and ugly rising in his chest. “That’s the problem. You don’t get it. That stunt was too far, James. You need to grow up.”

The room went very still.

Remus’s brows shot up. Wormtail made a soft sound, almost a squeak. James, though, just stared at Sirius, hazel eyes wide, incredulous. Then a sharp laugh burst out of him. “Grow up? You? Since when is Sirius Black lecturing anyone about responsibility? About not having fun?”

“This isn’t about fun,” Sirius snapped. He shoved himself to his feet, pacing a sharp line in front of his bed. His hands trembled, and he curled them into fists. “This is about consequences. About thinking further than the end of your wand. Don’t you see what you looked like out there? About what it means?”

James rolled his shoulders, shrugging, but his jaw was tight. “No, Pads. I don’t. Because all I saw was Snape getting what he’s had coming for years.”

Sirius scoffed, dragging a hand through his hair. “Of course you don’t. You never think past the rush, past the laugh. That’s all it is to you. A joke. A game. And it’s not. People like Snape never forget, and I don't wanna dea-” He turned away, tugging at the collar of his shirt, trying to busy his hands as he grabbed his nightclothes. “Forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”

Remus opened his mouth, tone calm but firm. “Alright, that’s enough—”

But James’s voice cut clean over his.

“Don’t talk to me about not thinking things through,” James said, his voice frighteningly even, almost calm. His eyes locked onto Sirius like a curse. “Not when you’re the hypocrite sneaking around, shagging a professor.”

The words landed like a hex.

Remus’s eyes widened, the blood draining from his face. Wormtail’s mouth dropped open with a small, audible gasp.

And Sirius—

Sirius felt the air punch out of his lungs, cold shock flooding his veins. He froze where he stood, nightshirt limp in his hands, staring at James as though he’d just been struck. His pulse roared in his ears.

The room was silent, waiting, thick with the weight of what had just been said.

Sirius turned slowly, his hair falling like a dark curtain around his face. His voice was low, dangerous, and almost disbelieving. “What did you say to me?”

For half a second, James’s expression faltered, a flicker of guilt crossing his hazel eyes. But then it was gone, his face hardening into something Sirius had never seen directed at him before. Not mockery. Not boyish arrogance. Something colder.

“I think you heard me quite clearly, Padfoot.”

The words cut like glass.

Behind them, the other two stirred. Wormtail’s head whipped toward Remus, eyes wide, and he whispered far too loudly, “Sirius slept with a professor!?”

“Shut it,” Remus hissed, shoving at him with an elbow, but his own face was pale. He took a cautious step forward, his voice soft, careful. “Padfoot… are you shagging a professor? Was it Cunningham?”

The sound of his name, so gently spoken, made Sirius’s stomach turn. He shuddered, his breath catching. He hadn’t had a trial when they locked him in Azkaban, but this, this felt like judgment day.

His mouth was dry. He shook his head, the words sticking until they finally scraped out. “No, Moony. I never slept with him.”

It was the truth. But James scoffed, sharp and cruel.

“But you wanted to, huh?”

The tone was like a slap, and Sirius’s anger roared back to the surface. “Shut up, you shithead, you don’t know anything.”

James smirked, but it was humorless. His arms folded across his chest, shoulders broad and immovable, blocking out the firelight behind him. “Oh, I don’t know anything? Funny, Pads, because I know you wouldn’t have reacted the way you just did otherwise.”

Sirius shook his head, lips pressed tight, his whole body taut with fury. “That’s not what happened between the two of us. It never got that far.”

The admission slipped out, raw and ragged.

Both Remus and Wormtail sucked in sharp breaths. Wormtail’s eyes went wide, and he blurted again, “He did do it, Moony—”

“Stop talking, Wormtail,” Remus snapped, harsher this time. But his gaze stayed locked between James and Sirius, bouncing back and forth like he was watching a duel he couldn’t interrupt.

Sirius bit his lip hard enough to taste copper, trying to keep the scream clawing at his throat down where it couldn’t escape. His voice cracked as he spat, “How do you even know what happened between Ryan and me?”

James laughed, a short, mocking sound that made Sirius’s blood boil. “Ryan and me? How adorable. First name basis with the predator?”

“He is not a predator!” Sirius barked back, voice ringing off the stone walls.

“Oh? Then what else do you call a grown man sneaking around with students?”

Sirius’s mind stuttered, grasping for words that didn’t sound like excuses. But before he could choke one out, Wormtail piped up again, horrified, “Students? Moony, that means more than one—”

“Wormtail,” Remus cut him off, voice low and sharp. “Stop talking.”

“It’s not like that,” Sirius said, desperation cracking through the anger now. He stared at James, searching his face. “Are you the reason he left?” His voice dropped, slow, thick with dread.

James’s lips curved, but there was no warmth, no boyish mischief. Only something coldly triumphant, ugly behind those golden frames. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

The words landed heavy, ringing in the space between them, and Sirius felt the ground shift beneath his feet. The dormitory went so silent that Sirius could hear the soft pop and hiss of the dying fire in the grate. He stood frozen, his pulse hammering in his throat, unable to breathe for a moment.

Finally, the word left him in a whisper, so small it barely carried. “What?”

James didn’t move, but his voice came steady, low, and theatrical in its precision. This was James Potter in full glory, no swagger or joking now, the lion laying out his truth.

“I hate when we fight, Padfoot,” James began, each word deliberate. “And I wanted to be the bigger man. So I followed you that night. After you stormed off.”

Sirius’s mouth went dry.

James’s tone sharpened, cutting through the air. “And I saw you go into Cunningham’s office.” He spat the name like venom, his jaw tightening around it. “Old Ryan.”

He paused, the silence pressing in before he continued. “Lucky for me, I tend to keep my Invisibility Cloak on me. And I was curious what you had to say to him.” His hazel eyes locked onto Sirius’s, unflinching. “Come to find out…”

He let the words hang, then took a step closer, his voice dropping softer, almost intimate. “There’s my best mate. Perched up on that man’s desk. Snogging away like—” He broke off, disgust curling his lip. “I was so sick I couldn’t control my magic.”

Sirius’s eyes widened, realization crashing into him like a blow. His voice cracked when he spoke. “You shattered the glass?”

James met his stare with unnerving calm. “I broke the glass,” he confirmed with a nod. “And I made sure you left before you did something stupid. So you’re welcome.”

For a moment, Sirius just stood there, reeling. The chill he’d felt that night, the suffocating dread, it had been James. His James. He barked out a sharp, bitter scoff, snapping out of his daze.

“I’m not thanking you for anything,” Sirius bit out. His voice rose, sharp with anger. “Nothing happened that wasn’t consensual. So this grotesque possessiveness you’ve got going on? Needs to stop.”

James’s face went blank, like a mask dropping into place. His voice was flat, incredulous. “Are you dumb, Sirius? He was a professor.”

Sirius threw his hands out. “So what? He was twenty-six. I’m seventeen. Hardly ancient, hardly frail.”

James’s composure cracked. His voice thundered, shaking the walls. “You have to be joking! The man took advantage of you! He was in a position of power, a teacher, and he used that to do what he wanted!”

But Sirius only laughed bitterly, the sound hollow, sharp. “Newsflash, Potter. I went to him. He didn’t take what I wasn’t giving. So thank you very much for ruining that moment, because I had definitely planned on fucking him right there on that desk.” The words cut the air like knives.

James said nothing. Not a word. But the temperature in the room seemed to plummet, a biting chill creeping into Sirius’s bones. His friend’s silence was heavier, more dangerous, than any shouting could’ve been.

Wormtail shifted uneasily, his eyes round as galleons. Remus cleared his throat, the sound harsh in the tense quiet, and stepped forward cautiously, raising his hands as though he could push the heat back into its box.

“Sirius,” Remus said softly, carefully. “Don’t joke like that.” His eyes flicked between the two of them, tension etched across his face. “Now, you’ve both said a lot tonight. Too much. And it’s time we cool down and go to bed. Okay?”

But Sirius couldn’t. The fury in his chest was molten, searing. He shook his head, lips pressed tight, then turned on his heel without a word.

“Pads—” Remus started, his voice cautious.

“Sirius—wait!” Wormtail squeaked, scrambling up.

James didn’t move. He stood silent as stone, a storm bottled behind his eyes, his jaw set tight enough to crack.

Sirius didn’t look back. His boots struck hard against the stone floor as he shoved out of the dormitory, out of the common room, and into the cold, echoing corridors of the castle. The silence behind him was deafening.

Later, Sirius sat at the very top of the Astronomy Tower, legs sprawled out, cloak bunched beneath him as the wind bit at his ears. In his hand was a half-empty bottle of firewhiskey.

The liquor burned going down, leaving him warm in the stomach and cold everywhere else. He tipped his head back against the stone, watching the sky blur and tilt. Stars swam above him in messy constellations. The world tilted and righted itself again.

Merlin, what a day.

It felt cursed from the moment he woke up. First the nightmare, then the fight by the lake, and now this, this break with James. He’d never fought with him this badly before. Not in this lifetime. Not even close.

The closest he could think of was his first life, that night he set Snape up, dangling him right at the edge of Moony’s secret. James had been livid then, nearly incandescent. Sirius could still see his face, the betrayal in his eyes, when he realized what Sirius had done. He almost got Snape killed. Almost got Remus expelled.

That was the line James had drawn. Snape. Always bloody Snape.

Sirius knew why James was furious, too. It wasn’t really about humiliating Snape. It was about Remus. About exposure. James had always been the shield, the one to keep their secret safe. Dumbledore had covered the werewolf mess after the Shack, and Snape had been silenced, but Sirius knew he’d wanted to spread it. Wanted to see Remus punished, cast out. Snape hated all of them, but his bile for Moony had always been special, sharp.

Harry had told him once, in that other life, that Snape had been cruel since the moment he set foot on Hogwarts grounds. Picking fights with anyone in reach, sneering at Frank and Alice’s child, calling people names for sport. He’d even been the one to let Remus’s condition slip, years later, when he was a professor. The greasy git had carried that petty grudge like a badge into adulthood.

And Sirius hated, hated, that he’d ended up sticking up for him today. It looked like he was defending Snape when really, he’d just wanted James to slow down. To think.

Because recklessness leaves trails. And trails follow you into war. And Snape is exactly the sort of bastard to never let it go.

Sirius pressed the mouth of the bottle to his lips again, letting the fire burn away the sick twist in his chest.

But what about James?

Could he even call him his best mate anymore?

Sirius clenched his teeth, fingers tight around the glass. All day, he’d felt James’s anger like a weight pressing down on him. The questions. The accusations. The control. Always watching. Always following. James bloody Potter, poking his nose into everything.

It made Sirius’s skin crawl. It felt suffocating, like chains tightening around his ribs.

He would never ever compare James to his mother. Walburga was poison, rot, a shriek in the dark that curdled blood. But Merlin, the feeling was starting to echo. That same stifling pressure, that same insistence on molding his choices, his life, into something else. Something not his own.

Fuck.

James hadn’t been like this before. Not in his first go. Back then, James had been cool, careless in the right ways, funny, athletic, golden. He’d been his freedom. A lifeline.

Sure, Sirius hadn’t told him about Cunningham that first time, but he hadn’t exactly hidden his habits either. He’d been reckless, yes, but James hadn’t cared. Sirius had gotten around, and James had let him, even laughed at him. Why did he care now? Why did it feel like James was trying to lock him in a box?

He hated this. Hated the twist in his stomach, the way the world didn’t line up anymore.

Maybe the deity hadn’t even been real. Maybe he was just a fool, chasing some mad delusion of second chances. Maybe he was still rotting in Azkaban, and this was just another trick of his broken mind.

His vision blurred, heat prickling at his eyes. He dragged the back of his sleeve across his face, furious at himself. Tears, of all things. Pathetic.

He tipped the bottle again, swallowing hard, ignoring the sting. His chest hurt with the weight of it, anger and sorrow, and something else he couldn’t name. And still, the night stretched empty before him.

The firewhiskey burned down Sirius’s throat like molten glass, but it did nothing to dull the storm inside him. He sat with his back to the cold stone of the astronomy tower, the night stretched wide and merciless above him. The stars looked so far away, cold, distant, untouchable. He laughed bitterly to himself. Fitting.

His knuckles ached from clenching the bottle too tightly, but he couldn’t let it go. His head swam, fire and fury tangling with exhaustion until he could hardly breathe.

The fight with James replayed in his skull like a curse. James’s face, hard and unyielding. The way he’d spit Ryan’s name like poison. The way he’d looked at him, as though Sirius were some stranger. He’d never seen that look in James’s eyes before, and he wasn’t sure he could bear to again.

“Grotesque possessiveness,” he muttered, voice slurred, mocking himself. “Bloody hell, maybe he was right. Maybe I am just… dumb.”

The bottle slipped from his hand, rolling until it clinked against the parapet. Sirius dragged both hands down his face, nails digging into skin as if pain might keep him grounded. It didn’t. Nothing did.

Every mistake, every failure, clawed at him.

He’d failed James and Lily—hadn’t he? Harry had still been orphaned in the end. He’d failed Harry. Locked away for twelve years, useless, bitter, broken. He’d failed Regulus, too, always too stubborn, too proud to bridge the gulf until it was far too late. Remus, left alone, struggling, mistrusting him. Even Wormtail, Merlin, even bloody Wormtail, maybe he’d only run to Voldemort because Sirius had driven him to it. Because James had loved them all, but Sirius had been so reckless, so loud, so sure he was untouchable. And it had all come crashing down.

Walburga’s voice rose sharply in his memory, a whip crack in the back of his mind. Failure. Disgrace. You’ll never be anything but ruin.

He pressed his palms to his ears, rocking slightly on the stone ledge. “Shut up,” he whispered. “Shut up, shut up.” But her voice only blended into others. James’s disappointment. Harry’s cries. Regulus’s bitterness.

The thought came sharp and sudden, terrifying in how simple it was. Why not just end it?

He hadn’t asked to be dragged back through time. He hadn’t begged for a second chance. If this was fate’s idea of mercy, then fate had a sick sense of humor. Every change he touched curdled, twisted, grew worse. Maybe the universe had picked the wrong man. Maybe if he were gone again, truly gone, things would settle the way they were meant to.

His chest hollowed at the idea, and for the first time in years, he felt… still.

Sirius pushed himself up. His limbs wobbled from drink, but the resolve steadied him. He crossed to the edge of the tower, boots scraping against frost-kissed stone. The drop stretched wide and dark below him, a pit that promised silence. Peace.

No more fighting. No more failing. No more disappointing everyone he loved.

He stood there, toes curling over the edge, the night wind tugging at his hair, his cloak. He wasn’t scared. He was just… tired. So bloody tired.

He drew a deep breath, filling his lungs with cold air until it burned. His lips parted, a shaky laugh spilling out like smoke. “See, Mum,” he muttered hoarsely. “You were right about me after all.”

And then Sirius Black, heir of the House of Black, Gryffindor’s golden rebel, James Potter’s other half, tilted forward into the dark and jumped.