Chapter One:

"Momentum Reflifitum," Snape was saying as he paced the front of the room. The students before him were watching him in slight confusion, some taking notes already and others just waiting boredly for him to continue. "A curse that is placed upon reflective objects. Does anyone know what this curse does to people?"

Hermione's hand immediately shot up from the crowd. It wasn't a huge surprise, honestly, but sometimes Harry wished she would just put it down, considering Snape never called on her, and it just looked sad when she was sitting there waving her hand about trying to get him to pick her. "No one," Snape sneered, looking around at everyone as Hermione glumly set her hand back on the desk in front of her.

Snape's eyes gazed across the classroom, trying to pick out a victim, and soon enough they landed on Neville Longbottom, who was innocently trying to write notes in a frenzy. "Longbottom!" the teacher snapped, causing poor Neville to jump and spill ink over his nicely-written page. "Tell me, what the curse momentum reflifitum does?" he demanded smoothly, setting his hands on the table in front of poor Neville.

"I-it," Neville stuttered, looking nervously around the room to try and find something that would assist him. Harry watched the other boy with great sympathy, biting his lip slightly as he watched. He knew just how much Neville feared Snape, and to have the man right in his face was probably a nightmare.

Finally, Neville seemed to collect his thoughts and answered, rather quickly, "It's a curse that's placed on reflective objects that shows a moment in one's past that… That if changed would have made the see-er's life better?" Though he seemed unsure, a few other people were nodding, Hermione especially, though she was disappointed that she hadn't gotten the opportunity to share herself, looked pleased with the answer.

Snape, however, did not. "Five points from Gryffindor," he snapped, pushing off the desk hard enough to knock Neville's ink well over. "For spilling ink on my floor." Neville looked a bit more miserable, but Snape seemed to have decided to stop expecting the students to answer any questions. "As Longbottom rather tersely pointed out," Snape began, pulling his wand out. "The only objects that can be affected by the momentum reflifitum curse are reflective objects or surfaces if the wizard casting the curse is very powerful," he added, waving his wand. A hand mirror floated into his hand from the other side of the room.

"Obviously this mirror has not been cursed," the teacher mentioned boredly as he noticed the sudden interest of the students. "Because that would be much too dangerous. You see, as Longbottom neglected to mention, one does not simply see one thing and then stop. After looking into the surface, the see-er is showed a part of his or her past that could have changed in order to give them a better life." He paused. "However, afterward they begin having dreams about this new life."

Harry was certain the rest of the room was thinking the same thing he was thinking. What part of his past could possibly have changed? Perhaps it would have been Voldemort being killed by his father so that he would still have a happy family. Or perhaps it would have been him being born on a different day completely so Voldemort didn't attack him.

Dean Thomas raised his hand, and everyone looked over at him in surprise. "Yes, Mister Thomas?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

"… What's the point of this curse, professor?" Dean asked, softly, not wanting to meet Snape's eyes. "I mean… Having dreams about a better life? Doesn't sound so bad."

Everyone else looked back up at Snape, expectantly waiting for an answer.

There was a long pause before Snape began to speak again. "The point of the curse, Mister Thomas," – he said Dean's name rather coldly – "is to plunge the victim into such a fit of despair that they either go insane or they long for death." This response seemed surprising. "Imagine, if you will," Snape continued, beginning to pace the room. "Seeing one part of your life, just one tiny part, that until now seemed rather insignificant, completely change. And now you must spend the rest of your life watching a life you never had. A life that you would have always wanted.

"It's easy for you to think about now because after this class you will have forgotten all about it. You'll go on living and that one little thought won't mean anything to you because your life is just fine as it is," Snape added with a nonchalant shrug. "However, seeing this moment, this life, in your dreams all the rest of your life can be haunting and horrifying, because it is a perfect life, a life you could never have, one that you will end up envying, and then despising because it can never be yours."

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil exchanged grave looks before bending down to take notes. The whole class seemed enthralled with the lesson, and it was the first one that had everyone silent and listening intently.

"Fascinating stuff," Hermione was saying as they made their way down to dinner in the Great Hall after class. "Very interesting." She seemed thoughtful, staring up at the ceiling as they walked, and on more than one occasion Ron or Harry had to push her out of the way of an oncoming student.

Ron rolled his eyes slightly. "Snape's still a right git," he answered, grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her a little closer to himself so she couldn't get run over. "Although, my dad's told me loads about the curse. Lots of Muggle artifacts are used to perform the curse with. It's dangerous stuff, that is."

Harry was still wondering what part of his life would have been changed as they ate and went up to the Gryffindor common room.

"I'm kind of tired," he quickly stated to Ron and Hermione, already backing his way into the boy's dorm. "I'm going to turn in a bit early." As he turned and rushed up the stairs he could hear Hermione calling after him, "Don't forget that essay we've got for Professor Slughorn!"

Though he felt bad for leaving Hermione and Ron alone for the evening, Harry felt the need to be by himself for just a little while. He threw himself onto his four-poster bed and gazed up into the ceiling, letting out a small sigh. What could have been changed about his past? He wondered. He didn't have a horrible life, admittedly, but it was certainly full of hardships and trials.

With a small sigh, Harry rolled onto his side and looked over at his bedside table for a few long moments. What if things had been different, really? Just like looking into the Mirror of Erised made him long for his parents and having a family again, thinking about this curse was making Harry wonder at how his life could be better.

But it would be dangerous, he eventually had to reason with himself. Though he would see his life as it could have been, it would drive him insane with grief. The longer he thought about it, the later it got, and eventually Harry found himself growing sleepy. He slid his glasses off the bridge of his nose and set it on the table beside him, stating aloud, "It would be foolish to want a curse put on me, after all."

Harry would have gladly gone to sleep at this point, and actually began to lie down and close his eyes, but he noticed something reflected in his glasses that made him pause and move closer to them, confused. His vision was blurred from not wearing them, but when he brought the lenses up to his face he notice a few familiar faces.

Hagrid. He was standing outside of a house that Harry didn't recognize. And then there was someone with him, Harry couldn't quite make out who at first. The pair was moving around, and talking, as though Harry were watching a tiny television set with the sound turned off. Then Hagrid's companion shifted so that Harry could see him. He was a tall, strong-looking young man with long black hair.

"Sirius," Harry whispered in realization, his eyes widening.

At that moment Harry felt as though he was being sucked into a Pensieve, the world around him shifted and changed, and suddenly the little scene that was playing on his glasses was right in front of him.

"They're dead," Sirius was saying as Harry slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose to watch. "Lily and… And James, they're dead." He hung his head slightly, bringing an arm up to cover his eyes. "I could have saved them," he added. It was clear from the quiver of his voice that he was trying hard not to sob.

Hagrid sniffed and pulled out a table-cloth sized handkerchief, blowing his nose rather loudly into it. "I figured they'd be. When Dumbledore told me to go fetch Harry." He glanced up at the house, looking as though he didn't want to go inside.

Sirius watched the half-giant for a moment before taking a step forward. "I… Hagrid, please. Let me take Harry. I'm his god-father, James and Lily would have wanted me to take him." He sounded rather frantic.

"Sirius… I know you're upset about them dying, but… But I've got orders from Dumbledore," Hagrid argued, weakly. It looked as though he were ready to say yes. Harry could feel his pulse quickening. Hagrid would tell Sirius no and take him to the Dursleys. He'd never seen this happen before, never knew about this memory of his godfather.

But to his surprise, Sirius looked back at the house then up at Hagrid once again. "Then at least let me go with you. I want to talk to Dumbledore myself. I can't just let him go to anyone, Hagrid. You understand."

After a few moments of careful thought, Hagrid nodded in response and motioned to the house. "Shall we?" He started going to the door, but quickly stopped, seeming unsure.

"… Let me," Sirius answered with a weak smile. "I've already been inside, anyway." Hagrid blew his nose again and began muttering small thank-you's as Sirius put on a determined face and made his way back to the front door. Harry scrambled to follow him, tripping a few times.

In the front hallway lie the body of Harry's father, James Potter, and quickly Harry felt tears well in his eyes. Sirius knelt before the body and gently put James' lids down over his eyes, whispering, "Harry will be in good hands either way. James… I… I'm sorry…" He stood, clearing his throat, before jogging up the stairs. Harry took one last look before he followed Sirius up the stairs.

At the end of the hall a door stood open and Harry could hear a baby crying. Sirius was already inside the room, and he could hear the man gently speaking to the baby, trying to calm him down. With shaking hands, Harry stepped into the room.

Sirius was lifting Harry as a baby out of his crib. Lily Potter lie on the floor at his feet, her long red hair covering her face. Harry wiped tears from his eyes before bringing them up to Sirius, who was speaking.

"You'll be okay," he whispered, hugging Harry to his chest. Already the baby was beginning to calm. "Remember Uncle Padfoot? Yeah… I… I'll make sure you can come live with me. And I'll tell you all about them. I'll tell you everything. I'll make sure you remember them as though you'd grown up with them." Sirius sobbed slightly before rushing out of the room, right through Harry as though he were a ghost. He moved so fast Harry had to sprint to keep up.

Minutes later Hagrid and Sirius were ready to go see Dumbledore. Sirius was seated on his motorcycle, watching Hagrid anxiously. Hagrid had a broomstick in hand, one that looked like it belonged in a restaurant for cleaning up rather large messes. After a few moments of adjustment, Hagrid gave Sirius a nod and the pair were off. The scene shifted around Harry as they flew away and soon the pair was landing safely in front of Albus Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.

"Sirius," Dumbledore greeted, softly, looking at him with a questioning gaze.

"Dumbledore," Sirius stated as he got off his bike and rushed to the other man. "I know you had a plan for Harry, but we need to talk. I wasn't the Potter's secret-keeper, Peter was." Both professors looked surprised at this but Sirius kept talking. "I convinced James to switch to Peter because I thought Voldemort would know for sure it was me. I… I thought Remus was the spy, but I guess I was wrong." He looked away, seeming rather shamed.

After a moment of taking this in, Dumbledore placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder. "I understand. We shall find Peter Pettigrew immediately and inform them of this. Where is Remus now?" he asked.

Sirius shook his head. "I… I don't know. He was living with the Potters and I until we found out there was a spy, and…" He let out a small groan at himself. "I didn't offer him a place to stay because I thought he was the spy." Harry felt his own heart sink. So, even back then Professor Lupin had been homeless.

Dumbledore gently squeezed Sirius' shoulder. "We will find him. Now that we know he is not the spy, you should apologize to him for thinking he was. I'm sure he'll understand." When Sirius nodded in return Dumbledore gave him a smile and pulled his hand away. "I take it there is something else you would like to speak with me about."

"Yes," Sirius answered, softly, staring down at the ground before him. "I was… Wondering… Since I'm Harry's godfather…" He sighed, rubbing his eyes before looking deploringly back up at Dumbledore. "I'm his godfather. He should live with me, Dumbledore. Please?"

Harry held his breath. Dumbledore was going to say no and Harry was going to go back to the Dusleys and this memory would be over. But his mind was reeling. No, Sirius told Dumbledore everything. Was this really a memory? Or was it..?

"Very well," Dumbledore answered.

The group fell silent and they all stared at Dumbledore before Sirius let out a happy cry and nearly knocked the professor over as he tried to hug him tightly. "You won't regret it, sir!" Sirius cried, looking up at Dumbledore fondly.

"Allow me to come home with you so that I can make sure your house is properly protected. In case any of Voldemort's followers are still at large, particularly Peter," Dumbledore continued.

But Harry didn't get to see this part as he was suddenly thrust back onto his bed in his room. It was morning, the sun was shining through the window, and he was holding his glasses in his hands, still. For a moment, Harry felt a leap of joy in his stomach and he scrambled to get up and tell Ron and Hermione.

And then a thought hit him. A terrifying, horrible thought.

He'd just been cursed.