Summary: Sirius, escaping from Askaban without knowing of Lupin or Peter, steals a Time Turner and goes back in time to stop Voldemort, once and for all. When he returns from his mission, however, Sirius finds out just why they don't give Time Turners to just anyone.
Warning: DEATH!fic. Major, major death fic. And no happy ending, either. And I guess mild slash or some major friendship vibes from the S/R side. And…uh, Weeping Lily. That's the scariest part of the fic.
Disclaimer: Be assured that if I did own Harry Potter, which I DON'T, it would still be nothing like this. Instead there would be major S/R smoochies and no more of that Sirius being dead stuff. And there would be a Marauder-time prequel series which I would also NOT OWN.
A/N: Ok, I'd suggest a major sap fic ready after this one, because this is one of those fics that end up hopeless, sad, and most likely dead. If I was willing to look at this long enough to do a sequel or an epilogue, Sirius would die in it and the world would fall to eeevvvilll. Rest assured I will not write anything further on this, so if you want to come at me with pitchforks and torches you can only blame my death on this one fic. Ok, now that you're in the right mood for a flame, R&R!!!!
Leave No OneIt takes him forever to get into the Department of Mysteries, and later he has to sleep in a corner there while he searches for the room where they keep the Time Turners. Sirius is used to sleeping on the ground and starvation, but the cold, buzzing feeling the wards on this place emit are making him dizzy and irritable. When he finally stumbles on the right room by accident he's so happy he almost forgets to prop the door open and change the mark on the entrance that leads out of the department. He's done that once before and nearly ended up trapped.
The shifting light of the room, together with the strange feeling from the wards on it and his hungry lightheadedness make him stumble. Sirius almost knocks a large vase (the source of the strange light) off of a table before he gets to the Time Turners. Taking a little silver one on a chain, he examines it carefully before putting it on. The thing has a moon crescent on it and that, together with the silvery shine, makes him think of Remus. He hasn't seen the man in thirteen years and Moony probably thinks he's a murderer, but the reminder still makes him smile.
He hasn't tried to contact Remus to clear his name, not that he has much of a chance without proof. The first thing Sirius did after getting away from Askaban was come here. If this goes right, he'll have thirteen years with Remus, and with James.
He tries not to think too much about the technicalities of time travel. The circular pattern his thoughts tend to take make his already aching head feel like fire.
…if I go and warn everyone about Pettigrew, then James would never have died, I would never have landed in Askaban…we could even set a trap and kill Voldemort when he thinks he's going to be doing a massacre at their house. But then I would never have thought to go back in time to warn them and…This is one of the things that makes him hate time travel, but after thirteen years of hell Sirius is willing to ignore it for a chance at reliving his life properly. Trying not to think about it too hard, he takes the paper on which he wrote his calculations. Sirius isn't sure of the date today, as he doesn't have the nerve to ask anyone or find a newspaper stand, but he knows roughly how many turns it would take to get him to a day before James's death. At most, he hopes, he'd be an hour or two later than he'd planned and have to steal a broom to get to them.
As he begins turning, counting carefully, Sirius thinks of what he'll do when he gets back. First a visit to James and Lily, just to see them and how Harry is doing…then on to finding Remus and getting our life back on track. Perhaps I could get a job as an Auror again…In his mind, the silent mantra that hasn't left him since he got out of Askaban almost two months ago plays behind his thoughts.
Today's the day my life will change…he gives the Time Turner another twist, counting down to three.
…I'll live like I wanted to again…Sirius smiles as he turns the bauble again, clutching his wand and feeling the anxious beating of his heart.
…and all of this will be just another nightmare. The final twist comes easily and he lets the Time Turner fall back on its chain. Before it falls, time seems to slow and then lurch into super speed, sending him into darkness. Sirius feels nothing as the years rush by, seeing only darkness and the silver glint of the Time Turner on its chain.
He would have laughed if he could, but everything is numb, as if his body doesn't exist. It feels like seconds and an eternity before sound and sensation return, followed by sight. When everything finally stops and he comes out of the stupor the spell put him in, Sirius feels his legs give way and collapses, breathing hard, in the cool, shifting light of the room in the department of mysteries.
Taking a deep breath of air that doesn't seemed to have changed, he sits up and wonders if it worked properly. Looking around, it seems as if nothing has changed. When he gets up, however, Sirius notices the shelves where the Time Turners used to stand. There are only half a dozen there, the rest of the shelves being occupied with other odds and ends.
That's right…time turners were the newest thing back in the eighties…He sees amongst these the small silver one, a double to the one around his neck. It looks brand new and shines in the light from the jar on the table next to it.
The anxious butterflies are still in his stomach as Sirius walks out of the time room and into the circular one. Immediately, the walls begin to spin. Watching the doors go around, Sirius suddenly remembers that he doesn't know which one is the exit. He signs, waiting for the room to stop spinning before picking one.
It takes him only a few moments to find the exit. Luckily, It's the third room he chooses. Sirius is so happy he nearly bounds right out without checking for ministry members. His luck holds, as there is no one there and it's nighttime. The lights are off and Sirius mutters "lumos" before proceeding down the hall and towards the elevators. He encounters no one on the ground floor except for the guard, who doesn't notice him before he is stupefied. Walking past the Fountain of Magical Brethren, Sirius almost feels like whistling. Today will be his last day as a murderer.
Outside, he picks up a current newspaper from a stand before signaling the Knight Bus. Sirius has had to resort to stealing from a small shop in a Wizarding village he'd passed, taking only enough to guarantee himself two extra rides on the Knight Bus. He sits silently after he pays the rough, truck-driver looking character at the wheel. His hand shakes as he clutches his wand, thinking of the life he'll have again; a godson, James and Lily alive, living with Remus as they'd planned to after Hogwarts. Everything that was cruelly interrupted will be returned to him.
Today's the day my life will change. He thinks silently. It isn't until the paper rustles nosily that Sirius remembers he still isn't sure of the date.
Looking down absently, he has to check twice before the idea sinks in. He'd miscalculated. Today is the day. Quickly going over his calculations, Sirius finds nothing wrong; it must have been that he didn't have the right date to begin with. No matter. Looking at the large clock handing behind the driver, he sees that it's two AM. James and Lily had died at about five in the morning. It's enough. No one would expect him, it's enough. Perhaps he'll kill Voldemort before he gets to the Potters. From behind while he's distracted. Sirius has learned that people are equally dead if killed in a fair fight or a cowardly rouse. And for James…anything.
The bus drives on, the familiar bang and toss of it a comfort. Inside, Sirius is shaking with the enormity of what's about to happen. He doesn't think about the future, about anything much at all. The butterflies in his stomach are fluttering like mad and in the calm beneath his fear and elation, the mantra is repeating itself.
Today's the day my life will change. He dozes for a bit, dreaming of good memories. In Askaban he'd forgotten them, almost went insane in the damp darkness. Now, he sleeps and dreams of his fifth year summer, spent with Remus in Diagon Alley. No parents, no restraints, nothing but the good weather and fair companionship. When he wakes up it's the driver shaking him roughly. His sour breath is on Sirius's cheek, stirring a bit of his matted hair and tickling his ear. The bus has arrived at Godrick's Hollow.
Sirius stands and checks the clock before getting off the bus. 4:30 AM: an hour early. Shaking happily, he gets off and watches the Knight Bus disappear into the night with a bang. He turns around, looking for the familiar house, and pauses.
There's something wrong. Sirius advances and examines the cottage closely, finally finding the lock melted off the door. The metal is still hot and as he charges ahead, Sirius spares no time to wander at the change in timing. Probably it's just another miscalculation of his. As he walks past the empty living room, Sirius signs in relief. James had died here.
He isn't anxious anymore, Sirius notes wryly. The shaking and butterflies have faded and left an empty, determined strength. He'll have time to celebrate later. Plenty of time.
Looking around, Sirius notices something on the couch. Still numb, he approaches silently, the mantra repeating in his mind. Peter sits back, reclining by the banked fireplace. He doesn't notice Sirius as he stands behind him. Knowing there is no time for everything he wants to say to the bastard, Sirius pulls out his wand, clutching it until his knuckles feel about to burst, and says "Avada Kedavra" very quietly. The green light hasn't even faded before he's moving again, into the hall leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. In the strange, happy numbness Sirius doesn't even feel the elation he'd been waiting for.
He comes upon them dueling in the hall, Voldemort's back to him. James is so concentrated on keeping up his shields he doesn't even notice he's being toyed with. Sirius stands, silently, behind the pair. His wand is still clutched in his numb hand and he points it at Voldemort almost sluggishly, feeling nothing in particular. He whispers the killing curse, and then again when he thinks it might not have worked. Everything seems almost pathetically easy.
The greatest Dark Lord in a hundred years crumples to the floor. Sirius hasn't thought of it before, but he's never actually even seen Voldemort. It's strangely comic, not knowing what such a famous person looks like when he knows every one of his followers. Sirius still has lists of them in his mind.
Beyond the corpse, James is staring at him. Sirius realizes he must look a mess, with his tattered robes. He doesn't know how much thirteen years have changed him, Sirius hasn't even looked in a mirror yet. As he looks up, seeing James there, alive and well, breaks a chink in the numbness and goes past the insane elation of the moment to the sadness lurking underneath. He feels the tears sliding down his cheeks, not bothering to stop them or wipe them away. The last time he'd seen James was as a corpse in his ruined home.
"…Sirius?" The wand that he was clutching so hard clatters to the ground, forgotten, and he's hugging James before he even knows it. In his mind, even the mantra stops and everything goes quiet, except for his sobs. His hands shake as he gathers James' robes to himself.
"God, Sirius…what's happened to you?" He doesn't say anything about Voldemort being dead, or about how he knew they were coming. Sirius knows what James must be thinking: "was he a traitor or a spy to have known?" He doesn't answer the unspoken question, instead hugging his friend harder until it feels as if James' ribs might crack. He's missed this, the simple act of touching someone. Thirteen years alone in his cell might have made him skittish of these things, except this is James, who was dead.
"What…" Lily comes out and stands in front of him. She cradles little Harry in her arms and stares at him, not knowing what to think. Sirius looks at this perfect picture and cries harder. How much has he missed them, these living, real people? How many times did he try to remember their wedding, only to have it sucked out of him along with everything else?
"…Sirius…?" He clutches at James until he runs out of tears and the shaking, butterfly-creating elation returns. After a few moments, Sirius stands back and looks at his old friend. The mantra begins again, those sweet words repeating in his mind.
Today's the day my life will change. He's shaking like mad, wanting to touch James again. This is like looking at a living picture out of the albums that were confiscated from him: James, Lily and Harry as they have always been in his mind, young, in love, newly married. Suddenly he wants to see Remus more than anything else in the world, look at him and think that everything is fine, Askaban hasn't happened. He'd never doubted Remus' loyalty. Sirius feels very old, looking at them. Voldemort's corpse still blocks the hallway where he'd stepped over it, and Sirius almost trips stepping back. He knows he has to go back, before he's overcome. He knows he can't stay here, that at the very least he has to get back to the time he left and proceed from there. He can find everyone in his own time again.
He walks away backwards, stumbling like a lunatic, unable to take his eyes off of James and Lily and little Harry in his blanket. All of them alive and well. Sirius sees their confusion and, not knowing what to say, tells them the truth.
"I'm from thirteen years in the future. I just saved your lives. I have… I have to go." He tries to turn around and run, before he decides to stay in this little piece of heaven. The sight of Peter's corpse, still slumped on the couch, finally snaps him out of it. Sirius takes one good look at the three of them, fixing them in his memory, and then tears out the door and towards the road, summoning the Knight Bus before they can come after him.
The bang announces its arrival, and Sirius races inside and doesn't look back, collapsing with exhausted happiness only after they have jumped back to the streets of London. He shakes for the rest of the trip, unable to stop his mantra until he's whispering it out loud, too, like a lunatic.
"Today's the day my life will change…" The Time Turner bumps against his chest as the bus groans and bumps its way to the abandoned street above the ministry of magic. Sirius jumps off and races to the telephone, dialing wrong a few times before he's allowed in. Uncaring of appearances now, he tells the woman that he's a returning time traveler. The card has his business printed with a pretty green flourish.
Sirius tries to walk casually when he reaches the reception room, feeling giddy and light. Soon he'll see his life as it should have been, perfect. Maybe someone will figure out when he'd come from and come greet him, though it isn't likely.
He duels with the guard casually, eventually leaving him rigid as a board on the floor. Walking past the empty halls, he makes his way to the department of mysteries. He checks the clocks, finding himself about five minutes early. It would be best if he doesn't see himself coming back. Sirius takes out the creased paper with the number of turns to take, counting carefully, the mantra repeating in his mind. Sirius can't wait to get back to his own new world.
The magic is smoother this time, and he ends up in the exact same place, with the exception of a new coat of paint on the walls and the new, modern looking elevators standing just down the hall from him.
Reaching the department he's seeking, Sirius waits for what he thinks to be about enough time in the circular room, then makes his way to the door Sirius-of-half-an-hour-ago has considerately marked before departing. The time room is empty, thought Sirius wasn't really expecting anyone. He takes the time turner and puts it back where it was, feeling some of the giddiness leave with it.
Now, he can finally go to see everyone. He wonders if he's a hero now, for killing Voldemort. What is he doing? Are Remus and he still living together as they had before Askaban? Sirius isn't entirely certain how all of this works, but he assumes there wouldn't be two of him. Before, he half expected to get completely different memories when he came back, from the life he'd supposedly lived. Oh well, Sirius doesn't particularly care if he has to get used to living free again. Everything is good now. He'll adjust to peace as he had adjusted to imprisonment.
He walks away from the Department of mysteries with ease, having left himself marks on the door that leads out. The clocks tell him it's about 1 AM and he whistles as he walks, finding the guard still very much stupefied. He bows comically to the Fountain of Magical Brethren; feeling like his life has started over. And it has.
He checks his pockets for more money while he summons the bus and finds just enough for one passage. When it arrives, Sirius pays the driver–a pimply fellow who looks him over and raises an eyebrow. Sirius assumes his strange expression had probably sacred the boy into silence. He naps as they ride, then looks the other passengers over. A lady dressed not much better than him sleeps on the coverlet of her bed, and an elderly man practices transforming his black cat into a rabbit in the corner. A couple of kids who look to be runaways are snoozing near the stairs leading to the second floor.
Smiling, Sirius spends the night thinking of a plan. He'd asked to be let off at Diagon Alley, to get some money and proper cloths. Then, he can get a broom and go to Godrick's Hollow to check for the Potters. It's summer; perhaps he can finally meet thirteen-year-old Harry. They'll tell him everything and when he's cleaned up he can meet Remus again, get back to his life. There is no rush; everything would sort itself out in the end.
The boy's squeaky voice calls that they've arrived, and Sirius gets off feeling very good indeed. The Leaky Cauldron is little different than he'd remembered, though as he walks in a fellow named Tom greets him as the owner. The last time he'd been here an elderly lady had owned the place. Sirius remembers that Remus used to like her tea.
He waves to the occupants, ignoring their stares, and walks out to back, tapping the bricks without a second thought even after all these years. The spell seems a little sluggish, but Sirius doesn't notice anything until he can see Diagon Alley.
He gasps, looking around. The elation he'd felt fades, to be replaced by numbed horror. In his earliest years, Diagon Alley, along with Hogwarts, had represented the normalcy that he could go to when his home fell apart. Now, after he has survived hell, it seems like it has failed him.
The stores are closed, though that in itself isn't unusual at 1 AM. The thing that tipped Sirius off is the lack of any wares displayed outside, or the colorful decorations and signs that used to hang about. The few stores that still seem to be working are the owl post office, Gringott's, the Apothecary, and Ollivander's. Everything else has either been replaced with shady little stores closed for the night or been left abandoned. Madam Malkin's had been demolished and is now a hole in the ground.
Sirius stares, wondering. Is this the future?
Shaking his head, he walks towards the bank that's open, thankfully, at all hours. The goblins stare but say nothing as he produces his key from where he stowed it on a golden chain around his neck. It had once hung in the offices of Askaban by this same chain, and wearing it is both exhilarating and dirtying.
He fills the stolen purse with money, noticing that most of his stash is gone. Ah, well, Aurors work pays well if you know what you're doing.
Not much work now, without a dark lord…
He smirks, annoying the goblin cart driver without meaning to. As he exits the bank Sirius is already counting out knuts and sickles for the bus. When he sticks out his wand the bang is sooner than expected. It must not have gotten very far.
He gives the pimply fellow enough money for a cup of cocoa, too, but only drinks half of it before the bus stops for him. Sirius takes it with him, walking off the bus and towards the silent house on the hill. Their little two-story cottage looks almost as dismal as it had when he'd been here last, thirteen years ago, but there's a light shinning in the downstairs window.
Strange, that…wonder if Remus is staying over again, always the nocturnal one…He walks up the doorstep, smelling the rosemary that Lily has growing in a pot on the front porch. Everything isn't as depleted as he'd first suspected, rather, the night has only hidden the new coat of paint on the door. He bangs on the familiar griffin head knocker, not particularly worried about waking everyone. With that thought comes the wonderings:
Did they have another child…?
The door is opened sooner than he'd expected by a haphazardly dressed witch in a dark blue robe. Her shinning red hair is neatly trimmed and brushed, reflecting the light of a fireplace almost as well as her bright green eyes. Sirius stands there, gaping at the living, pretty Lily until she smiles tightly and ushers him in from the cold, draping a cloak from a side table over his shoulders. Sirius leaves the now-empty cocoa mug on the same table and hugs her tightly before she can step away.
"Oh god…Lily…" He can almost remember what she smells like, rosemary and the kind of hot, fresh scent that reminds him of summer. Her shoulders shake under his fingers and he realizes she's crying.
"You know…you know who I am?" He whispers, not quite sure what to do. The Lily he'd remembered would never cry.
"We know. You're the time traveler. I…Dumbledore told me you'd come." She turns away from him and he can't see her face. The silence is very uncomfortable, and when she leads him to the couch that Peter had died on, it's hardly broken by a "hello" from the old wizard sitting by the hearth. Dumbledore stares at him in friendly passivity from behind his familiar old half moon spectacles.
"Dumbledore! You knew what time I was from?" He hadn't really believed anyone would know, after all he was in that time for only a little while, barely spoken to anyone.
"You gave us the year, dear boy. We've been waiting for a confirmation. Now we have it. Come and sit, Sirius Black. I believe you've had a long, rough night?" he gestures and Sirius collapses into the place Peter had sat, waiting for his friend's murder. The memory, though so recent, is clouded. He still doesn't know what state of mind he was in at the time.
"You've done so much, Sirius…I don't know if I should thank you or…" it's Lily, still weeping. She sits in the chair James had always loved to bounce on when they were still children.
"What did I do? What's happened here? To Diagon Alley? I don't get it. Where's James and Remus, if you knew I was coming? Are they here?" He hasn't thought of it until he says it, the unspoken fear. Sirius had always assumed that if anything, they would be the first to welcome him into the life he'd created. He'd done it for them, after all. For James.
Lily hides her face behind her hair as she cries, shaking her head. Dumbledore puts a hand on her knee and pats it comfortingly.
"Dear boy…you have done the world a service, haven't you…My friend, Sirius, you are, in all respects, the last Marauder. James died two years ago, Remus just last summer. Horrid thing, really, War. Necessary, but horrid non the less..."
The last Marauder. It echoes in his mind, but Sirius doesn't think too hard about it. Everything, the breakout, the horror and the expectation…for this.
The last Marauder. No one should have to hear that. No one.
Still, the last Marauder.
He shakes his head, slowly. It must be a joke. What a cruel trick, that. James hasn't changed a bit, but he has hoped he'd never be the butt of one of these scams. And just back from saving his life, too. Surely Remus wouldn't have let him…he'd known how Sirius can't handle these death things. He doesn't handle death well, Sirius. He cried at Remus's mother's funeral, though he'd hated the woman. I don't like these stupid tricks of theirs.
"I wish you'd stop. Stop crying, Lily! God! You all know I hate that phrase, The last Marauder. Who told you to say it, James? That bastard. I should have let him die…" Somewhere inside he knows this isn't a trick. That no one would ever play a trick like that. Not anyone. He wouldn't even wish this on Snape, that bastard. This empty hollow pain that's just aching to be filled with all the bad things…
"Sirius, I think perhaps you need to see the graves. They're just outside, Harry's too. The first to die, that boy. And we had so many expectations…" Dumbledore is as calm as ever, but something in his eyes says that if he hears another word of it he'll explode. Sirius wonders if he's hating the trick, too. How could he? He was never a Marauder. The last Marauder.
"God!" But he gets up and follows them to the back door and into the yard. Sirius expects to see a black-clad muggle funeral when he steps out, but instead it's just the yard as he'd remembered it. There are even the Quidditch loops in their places. They walk as a silent procession, except for Lily's stifled weeping, to the little gate that leads off the property. There was a meadow beyond as Sirius remembered it, but now it's a graveyard. Rows and rows of pretty tombstones with the images of their owners playing on them like a silent movie. He'd seen death before, the Aurors dropping around him and Sirius remembers the fear, too. Being so scared that James was one of those pale faces. He remembers clutching Remus's hand at night and thanking god over and over again for their being alive. Now he walks, a little numbly, past all these wasted lives.
They get to the last row, where there are flowers growing, pretty colorful blooms. He looks at the stones blankly, not really paying attention. Dumbledore bends down and brushes a little ivy off a marble tombstone and shows him the movie playing on it. James' movie. He can see the crowds cheering, and James is flying, the best seeker ever. He was there. Sirius was there. He can almost pretend to see Remus in the stalls, cheering. They were there. It doesn't mean anything to him, even as he sees James Potter written carefully in the stone.
He knows that this is cataclysmic, that it's happened before and he went a little crazy and killed Peter. He's killed Peter twice now, but only one time was for real. Dumbledore looks at him from behind his glasses and Sirius doesn't think to ask how or Why. They walk on a little to the end of the row, and there's another tombstone with a Seeker on it. It says Harry Potter on the stone. Sirius remembers holding this tiny bundle in his hands. They'd said he'd make a great father, and Remus joked that they would both die from his cooking. The silent movie shows a boy in scarlet soaring, and another one in green. They fight and one of them catches the Snitch. Sirius watches the colors, wondering how Harry could have died. They haven't even met.
Something breaks. Maybe because now Lily is crying openly without bothering to try and stop. She's been crying for a long time, and he puts a hand around her shoulders. He knows who they're going to visit next. He knows that if he sees that last tombstone he'll be just like Lily, crying his eyes out. All these years and he'd assumed there would be time. Always the assumption.
"After the war is over."
"After I kill Voldemort."
"After I visit James."
He knows he can't see it, but it's already there in his mind. Sirius knows what movie will be playing on it. The one where he became a prefect and his parents were proud for once. Their little misfit werewolf, a Prefect. Nobody wanted that on the tombstone. He wanted a movie where they were Aurors together, partners. Killing all the Death Eaters, as brave as anyone. The best team ever. Of course there was no movie like that, because they'd assumed there would be time later.
Sirius takes his hand off of Lily's shoulder and lets her lean on Dumbledore. She's staring at the tombstone, shaking. That movie is still looping around and around and around. They start to walk, with him in front, until Dumbledore gestures to him from the second last row.
Sirius stops at the edge of the row, next to a stone with some unfamiliar girl on it. It's an empty grave and there's no movie, but it says Ginny Weasley on the stone. Weasley, like Arthur and Molly. They didn't have a daughter when he'd been dragged off, only sons.
"Come, Sirius. This will help you understand." Sirius shakes his head numbly and says he doesn't want to see any more. He gets it. Everyone's dead. He doesn't want to see any more. Dumbledore comes and takes his shoulder and steers him to that grave—
"I shouldn't be the last Marauder." He says, not looking. Sirius turns around and walks away, back into the yard and the house and out to the lonely road in front. He knows he should cry, but it's too much. They're right below the surface now, the tears. Sirius sits on the front porch and smells the rosemary and looks at the clouds and the barely risen sun. Has it really been that long? Hours? He hadn't noticed. Behind him, Dumbledore comes and sits in the swinging bench that's hanging by the door.
"What happened?" Sirius is afraid that if he'll start talking about those graves anymore he'll do something violent. Tear out Dumbledore's heart like he wants to tear out Peter's. He's glad when Dumbledore starts talking about the world again.
"A few years ago, Harry's school mate found an object of the deceased dark lord. That was Ginny Weasley; I believe you've seen her grave. She was taken over by an apparition that Voldemort had locked into the diary, an apparition of his sixteen-year-old self. A great man at the beginning of his powers was reborn. Harry…he tried to help. Too late, and was killed. I don't know how his parent's extended survival affected this, but—"
"How do you know? How could anyone…"
"There are some who specialize in Time management and have reported that before the change, the diary of Tom Riddle hadn't been of much consequence." Dumbledore looked very old, suddenly, when Sirius looked at him he could see new lines and old ones, and a deep, empty sadness like the one he carried.
"I did that. I did—" he choked. He'd saved two people but killed a thousand. Given them 13 years of life for this.
"The diary took on reality as Ginny lost it, killing Harry and possessing her completely. Since then, Tom Riddle has become the new darkness that covers the world. He is not of the dead or the living, but is never the less very potent. Ginny Weasley is a sort of latent statue, his source of power. She feeds him her life and has none of her own. I believe the crowd has christened her the Sleeping Queen." He stopped, for a moment, then
"Tom feeds on the power of other wizards, giving it to Ginny and using it through her. He hasn't yet made an official move on the ministry, but Hogwarts is gone from the inside out. James and Remus were both Aurors in the front—"
"Stop." Sirius doesn't want to hear it, this reality. He remembers the empty grave without a movie. The grave of the Sleeping Queen. The Weasley girl.
"What about Arthur and Molly? Tonks, Kingsley…everyone. Where are they? Where's Moody? Are they…?" He knows what the answer is already. All those graves. People he'd killed. All those friends…The last Marauder.
"The Weasleys are dead, except for, I believe, Charlie and Percy. You know them? And the others, I think, you should see for yourself. The resistance burial grounds are here, unplottable for the sake of privacy." Sirius looks back at where the graveyard must be, thinking of finding Tonk's little stone tucked in somewhere.
"Charlie…" a familiar face, a boy that was always hanging around. Such big green eyes, Sirius remembers. Incredible. He's alive. He doesn't remember Percy very well at all, but he was always very bookish and serious. Not Remus-bookish, either. Nothing like Remus. Remus who was—
Don't go there. Sirius leaves it alone. Time enough later. He laughs at this assumption. Time enough when he's dead, too.
"There can't be a last Marauder." He tells Dumbledore. The old man nods slowly and rises.
"At least see the grave, then. There are things that can be done, Sirius, there is still a resistance. We need, well, we need those who've seen this before." Sirius shakes his head. He doesn't care about the resistance anymore, now that everything's gone to hell. He knows how he can fix it. He only needs that tiny little toy…the one with the silver moon.
"I'm going to fix this." He says, determined. When he comes back he'll see either Remus or a grave with his worst movie playing on it. Not before everything's fixed.
"No! Sirius, there has been enough. The Time Turners will not help us. You are going on a path that leads nowhere. You've seen what happens. Don't you see the graves? Isn't that enough, all those dead people? You could save the living instead of murdering the dead over and over again." But Sirius is already walking away, wand at the ready. He knows he'll come back soon and see that grave. See Remus. When he's ready to die he'll come and do it here.
Dumbledore's words don't even penetrate.
"Come see the grave, Sirius, say good bye." But the bus is here, the bang bringing Lily out of the house with her red hair and red eyes, mascara carefully reapplied. He waves, sadly, swearing to return with James. She doesn't understand, and Dumbledore is about to make him come back…
"To The Ministry." He tells the pimply driver, remembering the one from thirteen years ago. He pays for cocoa and curls up in a corner when it arrives, sipping. The numbness that came when he'd killed Peter and Voldemort is there again, and Sirius puts the graves and the little house out of his mind. He begins calculating on a little paper scrap with a pencil he conjured. This time, maybe, he'll succeed.
***
Dumbledore signs as the Knight Bus disappears, sitting back down on the rocking bench. Lily comes and sits, too. She's pulled herself together and looks rather better than he'd seen her look in a long time. Her hands don't shake and she rocks the bench steadily.
"He's gone to fix it, isn't he? He didn't give up, even after everything…" He can tell the lady is unhappy, as she's been since Harry and James died, since Remus left and didn't come back, since her wards in St. Mungo's became less and less likely to survive.
"I think, perhaps, my dear, that Sirius gave up a long time ago. Or rather, yesterday, when the world was different. Seeing those graves has done nothing to him because they were there the whole time." He smiles at her kindly, patting her knee. Lily is one of the 112 surviving Gryffindors in her school years, out of a total class of almost 900.
"I know why he didn't want to see it. I know…well, I didn't want to see it, either. I had to. You forced me to. I wish you'd moved that grave yard somewhere else." She frowns at him with a touch of the old fire he remembered in her school years.
"All for the best, my dear, I assure you." Dumbledore looks at the sky, pink and orange from the sunrise. It's beautiful, the calm weather and the smell of rosemary. Lily goes back inside to fix them some breakfast, but he stays out. Sirius will be back soon, into, perhaps, a different world altogether. Somehow, Dumbledore doubts he'll ever see the man again, but he fixes this moment in his memory, for whatever comes.
ENDA/N: I know! It's horrible. Especially since Sirius fixes things by killing himself before he can kill Voldemort, therefore killing his future self (himself) as well. So it's kind of a suicide. Then again, he might just find a way to save the world. Who knows? He might be changing it now. And I should probably go to read some sap before I start on a time turner series that ends with the overtaking of the wizarding world by religious fanatics from a tiny island in the Caribbean. o_O
Now, for technicalities:
1. I am aware that it's not exactly easy to get into the ministry of magic, and that Sirius probably wouldn't have known where the time turners would be kept.
2. I know that Peter wouldn't have actually been there at the time of the death, and that it doesn't seem very plausible that Voldemort would be killed that easily, but call it creative license. I mean, he wouldn't have been expecting anyone to come, especially not Sirius Black, who was, I'd thin, a little mad to begin with and went worst as the fic moves on.
3. I know it seems a bit hurried, the fic, and I plan to rewrite it at some point. Myself, I hate the whole damned thing enough to just forget about it, but the fact that it sounds like a newspaper clipping up until the point where he reaches the house is there, non the less.
Oh well, thanks for reading, especially to all those skipping the excessive author's notes. R&R, everyone!! PLEASE!!! ^__^;;