Disclaimer: Rowling owns everything but my fun.

Thanks Reptilia28 for the idea, which I got from the challenge. However, I changed it to appease my tastes. I prefer not Harry-centric fics, and I don't like pumpkin pie. So, that's my idea of another second change fanfic.

The darkness was soft and warm. Invisible hands were stroking his hair; strange voices were whispering, "It's all over. There's nothing you can do about it. It's over, and you've done your best. Close your eyes and sleep. You're so tired, you deserve rest". He wanted to shout "No!", but his throat was tight and dry. He tried to keep his eyes open, but the darkness was stronger, much stronger. He felt it was ancient as the Universe itself and neither good, nor evil. So, finally he gave up.

When he opened his eyes, there was no darkness around. He was in a big light room, with a lot of flower pots everywhere, an elegant cabinet in the corner and a desk in the middle. The sun was shining through a large window, and music was heard from somewhere very far. A place looked quite ordinary, but there was something strange about it. He was feeling really well; better than he had been for many years.

"Where am I?" He murmured.

At that very moment, the door opened and a young woman came in. Hardly twenty, she was the most strange-looking person he had ever seen, with deep amber eyes and bluish hair. She stopped on the threshold, looked at him for an instant, and then…

"YOU!" She shrieked. "AGAIN!"

"I beg your…"

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!" She interrupted. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU HAD TO BE SUCH AN IDIOT AGAIN! THE THIRD TIME! IT'S JUST RIDICULOUS!"

"Lady!" he snapped. "What does all this fucking show mean?"

She exhaled noisily and entered the room. A chair appeared out of nowhere near the desk; she sat down and looked at him gloomily.

"My name is Jillian, and I'm your Grim Ripper. This is my office, and you came here…"

"…because I'm dead". He said sarcastically. "Thank you very much, this part is clear. What do you mean by "the third time"?"

"Exactly what it means!" Jillian hissed. "It's the third time you come here! Without having lived as long as you were supposed to, without having done what you were supposed to do! They'll fire me!"

He felt dizzy. Had he really died three times? What was he supposed to do? How could a Death Ripper be fired? Was it all real or just a hallucination?

"Can I have a seat, please?" He asked weakly.

She snapped her fingers, and an armchair appeared. He fell into it, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Would you mind explaining me everything from the very beginning?" He said.

"Well, the story is quite simple: it's the third time you screw your fate up. You were supposed to live for a hundred and thirty three years, prevent Voldemort from coming back to the living, make a couple of other inventions and die gray and old among your loving family. Yet, the first time you had to let the dirty rat kill you, then you drowned while escaping Azkaban and now it was that crazy cousin of yours! Voldemort is on the loose, people will die, your sole mate never met you, because you had to go after the traitor! I was making such a nice career before I got you, Sirius Black! If someone fails to fulfil his destiny, the Grim Reaper is fired! I'm so close to it now because of you!"

"Wait a minute", he murmured. "How was I supposed to stop Voldemort? The prophecy says Harry is the Chosen One!"

"The prophecy!" She snorted. "Do you really believe the piece of shit? Do you know what it was about?"

"It says Harry is the only one who can kill Voldemort, doesn't it?"

"Not exactly. It says that either Harry will kill Voldemort, OR Voldemort will kill Harry, OR they both will kill each other. Now I'm going to show you something…"

A golden bowl appeared on the table, looking very much like a Pensieve.

"Look".

Sirius put his head inside the bowl. He saw Harry walking through a forest, followed by Lily, James, Remus and himself, looking as is there was no Azkaban. He saw a green ray from Voldemort's wand and his godson falling down. Then it was the Great Hall, Harry and Voldemort standing opposite each other, saying incantations simultaneously. Finally, Voldemort's spell came back to him and he fell down, obviously dead.

"So, what do you think of this?" Jillian smiled, when he took his head out of the bowl. "I believe you to be clever enough to make the right conclusions".

He frowned. Something was wrong in what he'd just seen, very wrong. He just hadn't caught it yet.

"BLOODY SHIT!" He finally bellowed. "No one of them killed the other!"

"Good boy," Jillian looked amused. "Straight to the point!"

Sirius sat quietly for some time, digesting his new revelation.

"Then, what was it all about? The prophecy was a piece of shit, Harry was not the Chosen One, but still he was a key figure for killing Voldemort…"

"Why don't wizards bother analysing the things that are just before their eyes?" she said, rolling her eyes. "You know all the facts you need, or nearly all of them. Has your brain rotten completely in Azkaban?"

"No!" He look insulted.

"Then think. You'll see everything yourself, if you try".

Sirius bit his lip. If he had thought about the past at Grimmauld place, he would have gone mad; so he just avoided it. Now it was safe, wasn't it? So, he started remembering all the major events for the last fifteen years.

The night Lily and James died; it hurt to think about it, but he had to. It all began there, in Godric's Hollow, near their dead bodies. The night was cold, even a bit frosty. Yet, the bodies were still warm; now he remembered clearly his hand on Prongs' dead forehead. So, they had died not long before he came; but he wasn't the first person to come. Hagrid. He was there already, telling that Dumbledore had ordered him to take Harry to his muggle relatives. How could the Headmaster know everything and make up his mind so quickly? Was he actually waiting for the tragedy to happen?

Harry spent next ten years with the Dursleys. He didn't speak much of it, but it was clear the boy wasn't happy there. Harry was ready to go and live with a stranger he had just met! A year later Sirius got to know that Arabella Figg had moved to Little Whinging in the beginning of 1982. Could Dumbledore know nothing about Harry's life? Or was it a part of some plan he had for the boy?

The Tournament. Dumbledore and Moody have known each other for forty years. Didn't he really see the difference, or just pretended not noticing anything? But why?

Finally, last year dementors attacked Harry in Little-Whinging. Shit! That was the point he tried to argue about; but he was in no position to change anything. However, now he saw the point more clearly: if dementors could find Harry, as well as himself two years before, then the boy wasn't' safe at all there!

"Dumbledore played his own game", he finally said, "and, perhaps, killing Voldemort wasn't the most important part of it…"

"To make the long story short, it was an experiment, Dumbledore's experiment with love magic. A successful one, I must add, he really proved his point, but I doubt it was worth the price paid. There's one other detail you miss to get the full picture", Jillian answered, "but I don't want to spoil the fun. You will learn everything on your own, after all. As I've already told you, I'll be fired if you fuck it all up once more. So, now I'll use my last resort. I'll send you back again and make sure you don't screw up this time".

"What do you have in mind?"

"Two things that are not approved, at the very least. First, I'll leave your memory intact. Second, I'll let you speak to someone very important to you. If you fail again, better meet the devil himself, than me!"

Sirius hardly paid attention to the last part. Someone who was important to him; James, could it be James? The best friend he ever had, whom he missed so much! He was dying to see him again, to say, how sorry he was!

"Sirius!" A voice came from the corner.

He turned around. James was there, looking so much alive, grinning madly. Was Prongs really happy to see him, the man who had him and his beloved killed?

"James, I…"

He never finished. James made two quick steps forward and smashed him on the back of his head.

"Padfoot, you bloody fool, how many times shall I tell you to stop blaming yourself? It was our choice, not yours!"

"Do you… do you really think so?" Sirius was appalled.

"Of course, I do! WE made Peter our Secret Keeper, not YOU! It's not your fault the fucking rat was a traitor! So, stop kicking yourself for something beyond your control and use your chance, after all!"

"If you say so... I've been living with the thought it was all my fault for so long … You can't expect me to change my mind at once!"

"It's not! I tell you again: don't you dare kick yourself for the rest of your life! It was our destiny to die and give our world a chance. Now it's your task to finish what we started. Make our son happy; don't let Dumbledore make a guinea pig of him. Harry deserves a better fate than being an old coot's puppet. Just don't fail us this time, live the full life, and it'll be the only apology you can offer. Now, get out of here and don't come back before your time! If you do, I'll strangle you with my own hands!"

James' smile was the last thing Sirius saw before everything went dark.