A/N: Hey, everyone, Sirius again :D The Marauders are just awesome. So of course, I had to come up with my own spin on what really happened while James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Lily were at Hogwarts! Just so you all know, the story begins directly post-OOTP. I'm not claiming that everything will be consistant with HBP and DH. Here it is, and I hope you all read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters. (I, unfortunately, don't own Sirius' pants, either -- dangit.) You can thank the fantastic J.K. Rowling for creating them.

It was dark. The neighborhood was peaceful. There wasn't a sound to be heard, not even the shuffling of a cat or the murmur of voices behind any of the small, square, evenly-spaced houses. The little road was called Magnolia Crescent. But no, I wasn't supposed to be on Magnolia Crescent. Squinting, I looked down at the next street sign. My heart sped up; there it was!

I broke into a run. The sound of my dilapidated shoes slapping against the pavement was the first sound to break the silence. They echoed down the deserted street in time with my pounding heart. More symmetrical houses flew by. Excitement bubbling in the pit of my stomach, I looked across the street, and saw the house I'd been looking for: number four, Privet Drive of Little Whinging.

I dashed to the house and pounded on the door with all my might, though it was not as strong as the fast rhythm in my chest; finally, finally…

A large, meaty-looking Muggle man opened the door. He narrowed his beady eyes at me, looking me up and down. He growled, "We don't give rooms to street urchins, so get lost--"

He started to slam the door shut, but I stuck my foot in the doorjamb just in time. "Sir, I've come to see Harry Potter."

His thick mustache bristled in anger, and his face turned a bright shade of purple. Apparently, this was not the right way to approach the situation.

"I-what-who--" he spluttered.

"Please!" I pleaded, "I must see him right away!"

He must have noticed the wand sticking out of my tattered overcoat pocket, because he roared, "You--YOU! You're one of-of THEM, AREN'T YOU?!"

By one of "them" I assumed he meant "witch or wizard." I didn't have time to open my mouth again, and the crazy Muggle slammed the door in my face, squishing my foot in it in the process. I yelped, hopping on my other foot, and cursed furiously under my breath. The door locked, and I stood there staring at it stupidly for a few moments. Well, I had not come this far only to give up because of a locked door.

I was done with etiquette. Crack. I Apparated inside, standing on the door mat. From the door, the kitchen and living room were in plain sight. A Muggle woman with a lean, bony face turned at the sound of Apparition, screamed, and dropped the soap-filled glass she was cleaning in the kitchen sink.

"VERNON! VERNOOON!" she shrieked.

"Ma'am, I'm terribly sorry about this, but the other Mug – er, man at the door wouldn't let me in, so--"

"HOW THE RUDDY HELL DID YOU GET IN MY HOUSE?!"

I jumped and spun around, only to come face-to-face with the same man as earlier who, by the looks of it, had just come out of the bathroom. He was positively seething, and I gulped loudly.

"GET OUT! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF PEOPLE LIKE-LIKE YOU IN THIS HOUSEHOLD! THE PUDDING, HALF THE LIVING ROOM, AND ALL OF THOSE BLASTED OWLS -- GET OUT!!"

His face turned another shade of magenta with every word he shouted. Obviously this man had had some trouble with magical persons in his house before, and he was making it quite plain that he'd like nothing better than to grab my neck in his fat fist and strangle me.

But just then, two pairs of feet came clomping down the stairs, and after a short scuffle, a fat teenage boy lumbered into the doorway. At the sight he saw, he stared and yelped. He made a miserable attempt to run backwards, ultimately falling over whomever he had shoved to the floor a moment ago.

A shorter, much thinner boy wrestled his way up, grunting, "Get off me, Dudley!"

Then, after another little tussle, the thin boy forced his way into the living room. He shook his dark bangs from his face and looked over. I was transfixed.

He stared at me, looking me over, and looked stunned. I stared right back, looking him over from head to toe. He had an unkempt shock of black hair, round glasses, and a very familiar face shape. These were all characteristic of someone I knew well; he shared all of these features with James Potter. A pair of lovely green, almond-shaped eyes sat behind his glasses. And they were not just anyone's eyes. They were her eyes; Lily's eyes. I didn't need to see his lightning bolt scar to know that this was Harry Potter.

Dashing across the floor, I seized the boy's arm and shook it vigorously. "Harry, I'm so glad to finally meet you again, you were only a baby the last time I saw you, you've grown so--"

"YOU, BOY!" the fat man cut me off. "WHY DID YOU BRING ANOTHER ONE IN THE HOUSE?!"

He was referring to me as if I were a stray animal. The woman was scrutinizing me like I was something slimy she might have scraped out of her toilet. The fat boy whimpered in the corner, his eyes flicking about anxiously. They were an awfully rude lot.

"Alright, sir," I said, dropping Harry's hand and turning to the man again, "I've tried being polite, despite how discourteous you were, but I'm afraid that I have very important business to attend to, so unless you want me to hex you," I took out my wand for emphasis, "then do me the pleasure of shutting up!"

There was a sharp intake of breath from all the Muggles. His eyes bulged, and I couldn't recall ever seeing anyone turn that shade of violet before in my life. I smirked, and lowered my wand. I turned back to Harry, and said in a slightly calmer tone, "Now, um, if it's not too much trouble, is there a place we can talk without being disturbed?"

Harry stared at me for a long moment, his eyes narrowing, and then asked slowly, "Um, sorry... Who are you, exactly...?" He appeared to be reaching for his back pocket. I assumed it was for his wand. It was a natural response; people don't Apparate into Muggle houses every day, after all. So, I did nothing to stop him. Instead I smiled proudly. "My name's Layla, Layla Averhart. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Looking quite uncomfortable, he muttered, "Er… I've never heard of you before..."

This bit of information was both unsurprising and unimportant. Pushing my long bangs out of my face, I said simply, "I wouldn't expect you to. Anyway, I'm here because--"

"Wait just a minute!"

I turned around and saw the stricken-looking woman glaring at me, squinting her eyes. She was looking me up and down. Slowly, she muttered, "Averhart? You were… her, you were the one that..." She clapped a hand over her mouth, like she had spoken too much, and looked away, flustered. The man asked slowly, "Petunia? Do you… know who... this is?"

I sparked up at the name, and really looked at her for the first time. Slender, blonde, narrow-faced, and looked as if she'd been sucking on a particularly sour lemon all day -- I laughed hysterically. It was so obvious! How could I not have seen it before?! "Petunia? As in Petunia Evans?! Oh, this just made my day!"

Harry was puzzled while the man, whom I now realized must have been Vernon Dursley, stared on in complete shock. Petunia glared at the floor, her pale, bony face flushing madly. "It's been a long time, Petunia!" I grinned, "The last time I saw you was when I spent the summer holidays with Lily!"

Harry blurted out immediately, "You knew my mum?!"

"Of course I did! We were best friends at Hogwarts! My parents and I had a row so they kicked me out. I asked Lily if I could spend the summer with her, and she obviously said yes. Only Petunia didn't very much enjoy having another witch in the house…" It was then that I noticed the odd behavior of the three Muggles. "Ptolemy's turnips, what's with all the twitching?" I muttered, staring incredulously at Vernon and Petunia; their jerking winces were plainly visible while I spoke.

Harry ignored them and asked curiously, "What did you parents kick you out for?"

Petunia answered with a sneer. "She cried about it to her for half the summer. After your parents found out about that stupid boy P-Potter always hung around..."

Once again, she clamped her hand firmly over her mouth, having spoken too much; her husband looked slightly uncomfortable. Harry was quiet, but his eyes were wide and expectant. He asked after a short period of silence, "What are you doing here, anyway?"

I jumped, and slapped a hand to my forehead. "Drat! So sorry, I got a bit sidetracked… Anyway, I didn't track you down here for nothing, so I'm expecting some answers! But first, I really, really would prefer it if there were somewhere private where we could talk. Perhaps your room?"

"Erm..."

"Alright, lovely."

He looked surprised, but clambered up the stairs with me in tow. He opened a door on the left, hastily kicking aside a few copies of the Daily Prophet, and several articles of clothing. In his haste to clean things up, he knocked over a birdcage and opened inkwell. Droppings and ink splattered all over the floor. I tried not to laugh while he cursed under his breath, nudging everything towards the wastebasket and ignoring the spilled ink completely.

There was a narrow, uneven chair with his desk, and when Harry sat down on his windowsill, I pulled out the chair for myself. Despite (or perhaps because of) my nonchalance, Harry appeared uneasy. His James-like frame was silhouetted against the moon and stars of the night sky, and very tense. The strange way his hand was balled into a fist in his pocket suggested he was holding his wand very tightly, prepared to defend himself if he must. I allowed myself a small grin. Through the dim lamplight, I studied the sixteen year old face in front of me.

"Okay, um, Layla, I don't want to be rude, but who are you, and how did you get here? And what do you want with me in the first place? How do I know you're not a Death Eater?" he demanded.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You're just considering the fact that I could be a Death Eater now?" Harry's face turned slightly pink and he did not respond. I rolled back my sleeves and exposed my forearms to him.

"No Dark Mark, right? So even if I was on the Dark Side, I wouldn't be very high on You-Know-Who's favorites list. I also probably would have finished you off by now. And I don't think I would have been able to enter your house if I had intentions of killing you. All the magic protecting you is practically impenetrable, you know?"

Even my reasoning seemed fairly sound, Harry still looked doubtful. I sighed and continued, "Well, let's start like this... I take it you've heard of the Order of the Phoenix, correct?"

He was both wary and excited, "Are you in the Order?!"

Smiling sadly, I shrugged, "I was back when the first Order was around. I wanted to be an Auror, but I didn't pass the test, so the Order was the next best thing. A lot of people died, but I was one of the few that came out relatively unscathed... Still, I wanted terribly to help take down You-Know-Who, but I can't say I did much for the Order, really. And actually, I'm not surprised you've never heard anyone mention me before..."

Harry looked slightly annoyed. "What do you mean?"

This time, I didn't meet his eyes. I looked out the window, into the distance. "I keep running away from things, Harry. Everything. I'm a bloody coward, and I hate that about myself… As a matter of fact, I assume everyone thought I was dead, or killed."

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I clutched my overcoat and stared determinedly at the floor. "You see Harry… I'm a wanted witch. I've been sort of... on the run since James and Lily were murdered. Death Eaters have been on my tail since I disappeared the night You-Know-Who's curse backfired, Death Eaters that still prowled around unnoticed and not convicted. I tried hiding in London, but they always found me. So I ran away again, far away..."

"Wait, you mean you've been in hiding for fourteen years?" Harry demanded incredulously. "Even after Voldemort's curse backfired? Why?"

"Like I said, even after that, I knew Death Eaters still on the loose. Like Rookwood, Karkaroff, Malfoy... I was better known back then than I'd like to admit, especially among Death Eaters. Since I've been… in hiding, I've been deprived of any recent news from the wizarding world since I've been on the run. But I needed to come back. And one of the reasons why I'm here tonight is for news. I want to know what's going on."

"Why me?" he asked suspiciously. "All you'd have to do was nick a Prophet from someone's bin or something. Or go pick up news in Diagon Alley..."

I sighed, twisting my hands in my lap. This was harder than I thought. "I know that, but... that's not all the news I've been looking for. I need something a bit more... specific."

"Specific?" he asked slowly.

I nodded. "Did you... happen to pick up on what Petunia said back there? About why my parents and I had a row?"

"Erm..."

"About why I got chucked out. Because of someone they -- um, didn't like."

"One of my dad's friends?"

All of a sudden, a look of dawning realization came over him. "Wait... You don't mean..."

Tears were welling up in my eyes. I was ready to get on my hands and knees if necessary as I slowly raised my eyes up to his, and begged, "Please, Harry, you've got to tell me -- where is Sirius Black?"

He gazed at me for a long time, and then his eyes narrowed. He jumped up and turned away from me. "Don't be thick. You can't tell me you don't already know..."

"I don't know anything that's been going on Harry!" I said pleadingly, jumping to my feet as well. "I've been living like a blasted Muggle! Only recently I came back to London because I heard something about Sirius, so -- I thought -- m-maybe..."

Harry turned around, not quite looking at me, and said in a slightly higher voice, "... Whatever you heard was old news..."

"Old news?" I repeated quietly. I studied his face seriously, and then asked even more quietly, "Did... did... something... happen to him...?"

Harry didn't respond right away. He took his time pacing up and down, and then glaring over at me, like he was debating whether or not to tell me anything.

"You really have no idea?"

"Absolutely none."

"You haven't been around in that long?"

"Unless you think New Delhi is 'around'…"

"How much did you love Sirius?"

"I-- wait, what?" I was taken aback by the suddenness of the question.

"How much did you love Sirius, you know, back then and now..." he repeated a bit awkwardly.

I was quiet for a long moment. Then, I pulled out my wand and closed my eyes tightly. Sirius' smiling face burst into my mind. "Expecto Patronum."

A large silvery swirl burst from the tip of my wand. Materialized between Harry and I was the large, dark, shaggy form of a dog -- the dog whose form Sirius took. Harry recognized it as soon as he saw it, and could not look away. His eyes were round, almost viciously hungry. His hands twitched, as if to reach out to the Patronus I'd summoned. However, it evaporated before he made contact with it.

Rather than respond to this, he glanced out the window and cleared his throat a little. I was growing impatient with him. "You've got to tell me, Harry."

"... I... I don't know how to say this..."

My chest started to constrict, and my heart beat faster. His voices sounded so dead, so dejected… There was definitely something wrong. Very, very wrong. " Harry, don't wind me up -- he's alright, isn't he? Sirius is okay, right?"

"Layla," he said, turning to me, and this time, he looked me in the eyes. His face was utterly devoid of emotion, the same as his tone. And his eyes… the look in his eyes was so pained, I knew what he was going to say before he even said it. "In June... Sirius was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange."

I knew what he was going to say. In fact, maybe I even knew it the moment I first heard his name crop up again. But I'd been denying it all this time, holding on for some scrap of hope, some miniscule piece of evidence suggesting otherwise… But these words I'd begged to hear… they were not the ones I wanted. I wanted to hear that he was alive and well, perhaps in hiding, or off with Remus… However, knowing what was coming did not soften the blow. Harry was not lying. Face blank and eyes glassy, he turned hastily towards the window, appearing to brush his bangs from his face. But, from his reflection, I could distinctly see him wiping the tears that had started to run down his face. There was a sharp, sudden pain in my chest. It was final now. I knew the truth, the truth I hoped against all hope was somehow false.

Tears filled my eyes, and my lower lip trembled. I wanted to argue, to tell Harry he was a fool for even suggesting that Sirius had been killed, but I had no evidence to support me… None, other than that promise he made me all those years ago…

Harry began speaking again, though he was talking to the window rather than me. "I was there when it happened... It was in the Ministry in June…"

Harry recounted the events of what happened in the Department of Mysteries, and the events leading up to Sirius' murder. A dozen Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort had been stopped by Remus Lupin, Sirius, three Aurors, and Dumbledore, not to mention Harry and a few of his friends, whom they Order members had initially come to rescue.

I knew already that Sirius had been convicted of murdering a dozen Muggles and his school friend Peter, aka Wormtail, and been chucked in Azkaban for it, and that he had escaped and had thrown all of the magical world into a state of panic, but I never knew how he'd managed. And on any other occasion, I would have been immersed in conversation with Harry about Sirius and what on earth had happened to him since I left, but I couldn't.

By the time he had finished, I was sobbing uncontrollably. Memories of him flashed before my eyes – hid smiling face, his stupid, stupid jokes, and even that stupid bark-like laugh that I fell in love with… Images, words, feelings raced through my mind too fast for me to handle...

I stood up and flung my arms around Harry, and cried, "I-I-I'm so s-sorry, Harry... I-I'm such an idiot... I c-can't begin to imagine w-what you must have g-gone through...!"

He forced me back into my seat, and before I really knew what was happening, he shoved a cup of hot tea in my hands. I could do nothing but stare at it for a long, long time, watching my teardrops fall in and obscure my reflection.

I couldn't believe what was happening... Everything was pointless. Sirius was dead. He was gone. He'd broken his promise, the most important promise he ever made, the one he swore never to break…

Sirius wasn't coming back.

Before I could control myself the previous night, I pulled a bottle of firewhiskey from the deep inner pocket of my coat and downed the whole thing... Only I regretted it in the morning. Harry was sleeping sitting up, his forehead pressed against the windowsill, the window slightly open and a gorgeous snowy owl perched on the other chair my coat was currently hanging over.

She was hooting dolefully when I woke up, and I blinked blearily at her. It took me a while to register where she was, and also where she was sticking her beak. A bark of protest issued from the pocket, and the owl dug her beak inside, trying to find her prize.

"Oi! What d'you think your doing? Get out of there!"

I stood up, swaying dangerously due to a pounding, relentless headache, and shooed the reproachful looking white owl away from the chair. I dug around in the large pocket furiously, and the owl landed on Harry, pecking him in the ear. He jumped up with a start, and looked around, seeing me standing there with my niffler in my hand. Harry raised his eyebrows at it and I smiled a little. I held him back as he tried to scramble out of my arms in an attempt to seize Harry's shiny belt buckle. Harry laughed.

"You have a niffler?"

I nodded. "I almost didn't have one anymore, your owl nearly ate him."

Harry grinned, stroking his owl. "Her name's Hedwig by the way."

"And this is Alberic. He's a real nutter sometimes."

"Hagrid says-- um, you do know Hagrid, right?"

I snorted, "Of course."

Harry grinned again. "He says nifflers are house wreckers."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Alberic finds coins and jewelry for me -- and he's a bit tamer than your average niffler."

Harry blinked and said, "Oh."

Shrugging again, I sat down on Harry's bed, holding Alberic tightly in my lap to keep him from gnawing at Harry's pants. I could hardly believe that it was really less than twenty four hours ago that Harry had informed me that Sirius was dead. With that unsettling truth, I couldn't smile right when I tried to; it came out wrong. I couldn't think of anything that seemed funny to me anymore. I sighed, my eyes aching from crying so hard and fitfully the previous night.

"I feel like I've been Kissed by a dementor..." I mumbled. Alberic nibbled at my finger. I had to struggle to fight back a fresh wave of tears. I wondered vaguely how I still had that much fluid left in my body.

Harry, more than anyone else in the world, knew what I was going through. He understood the loss I had suffered when he told me Sirius was dead. I always thought I wouldn't be able to live without Sirius... but after a lot of thinking the previous night, I've found a new reason to live.

I was going to kill Bellatrix Lestrange if it was the last thing I ever did.

Harry turned to me, and opened his mouth, then closed it, looking awkward. He looked away. Curious, I asked, "What's up?"

"I, er..." he muttered, "Um... I was wondering... I mean, I don't want to pry, or anything... but... what happened with you and Sirius? He never said anything about his relationships, so... I was just sort of wondering..." he trailed off uncomfortably.

I chewed my lower lip, nervously scratching Alberic behind the ears. "Well, um... It's... kind of... complicated, you see... Sirius and I had our ups and downs, and, well..." I looked up at him and asked seriously, "Do you want to hear the whole story? Start to finish? Because once I start I'm not going to stop..."

Harry looked a little taken aback, but then muttered, "Er… Alright, sure..."

I took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Right then... So let's begin..."