Potterverse is still in no way mine. Well now that that disclaimer has been said, hello there! Welcome to the new story in this Sirius/Cummings saga thing. I don't really know what to call it, but I sure as heck hope you like it. The story style will probably be a bit off from the last one (or two if you count the one-shots as a story) but hopefully not too much. Uhhh...without further ado, here's the first bit of the new story. Enjoy!
Maybe it was a dumb idea. Harry would've thought he had grown out of those. He was thirty-four for Merlin's sake and here he was standing in front of the door that had been plaguing his thoughts ever since he helped bring it in to the Department of Mysteries a week ago. Granted, this was no ordinary door. The first clue was that it was sent to the Department of Mysteries where only mysterious things go; the second was because it was confiscated. The Ministry didn't just go around taking doors out of people's homes. At least not to Harry's knowledge and he had been working there for a good while now.
It was some bloke's version of a Time Turner only more dangerous, as he'd been told by the fellow who helped carry it in. "It couldn't be too bad." Harry had said due to his past experience with Hermione's Time Turner. They had saved lives that night. But Fletcher had been quick to correct and insult him.
"Can't be too bad?! Are you some sort of idiot boy? With a Time Turner you can go back to a certain place in the past, but you can't come back after you've changed things. You have to let time come back to the present on its own." Fletcher had explained, though he had figured out it was bad by the indicating insult which questioned his intelligence. "With this door you can go back to the past, change something and then come right back to the present. A door opens from both sides and no good will come of this door's existence." He had finished grumbling to himself before he left Harry alone with the door.
Harry understood the danger of the door, what if someone brought Voldemort back? He cringed at the thought, enough of his life had already been consumed by that man. Absentmindedly Harry rubbed the scar on his forehead. Then a thought occurred to Harry, if you could bring back bad, surely you could do the same with good?
He could walk through that door and bring back Fred so George would feel whole again. He could bring back Dobby so he could live his free life to the fullest. He could bring back Remus and Tonks so Teddy could have his parents. He could bring back his own parents so he'd know what it was like to grow up loved. He could bring back Sirius so he could live a full life, uncaged. He could bring back Hero so she could teach his kids the importance of fake mustaches - not that Albus would understand why, though he was sure James would greet the fake mustaches and Hero with open arms (he was so much like both of his names' sake) and little Lily would just smile politely at the odd woman – and so Sirius could have someone to love.
Harry didn't know when he did it, or if he even did, but the door was open in front of him. A black abyss staring back at him, as if it was daring him to walk through. Though he was no Hermione that was for sure, but he wasn't stupid, he knew without a doubt that you couldn't bring back the dead. Nothing could, not even the Resurrection Stone. Somewhere though, there was a what-if lingering. A what-if strong enough that he took a step towards the open door. Did he hear whispers?
He shook his head, waking himself up. This was ridiculous! He was happy! He liked his job, loved his wife – his kids. He had a family now. Had friends that cared for him. No evil wizard threatening the lives of the entire world. Things were good. Actually, things were bloody fantastic.
Though, things could be better if…. Harry shook the thought from his head. No ifs. If he changed something in the past the present would be effected by who knows how much! It was that whole butterfly effect people always went on about in Muggle movies. Like in that Back to the Future movie, Harry could erase himself and his family. He didn't want that. Of course…if he didn't change anything big that couldn't hurt, right?
He took another step closer. If he didn't focus on taking out Voldemort and instead on his loved ones that wouldn't change anything too much, right?
He took another step closer. If he focused on one simple thing, that wouldn't affect the whole outcome of the war, right?
He took another step closer. If he just improved one life he'd still be happily married to Ginny in the future, right?
He took another step and found himself surrounded by the whispering, dark abyss not entirely conscious of it as he pondered heavily on his what-ifs. If he just helped Sirius – the one who needed it most – everything would be alright.
As the last thought crossed his mind he felt himself being pulled back at a high rate of speed, it was a lot like a Portkey only he wasn't being sped forward and it felt ten times worse. Flashes of blurry images flew by him, like an out of focus movie with accompanying sounds. Most of which he couldn't understand, as they were all happening at once. Then as quickly as it had started, Harry stopped moving.
The sudden lack of motion had Harry rocking back and forth on his feet. A tidal wave of nausea hit him, before he could greet his lunch again, he ran over to the nearest rubbish bin and proceeded to retch his guts out rather violently. Harry fell back on him bum after he finished, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his robe as he regained his breath. It was then that he noticed the little cough that sounded. Harry looked up only to see the man he recognized from his days at Hogwarts, his heart clenched painfully in his chest. "Dumbledore." Harry breathed out. He may have looked younger than he last remembered but there was no mistaking it. Dumbledore's blue eyes sparkled with what Harry was certain was amusement (it was).
"Hello." Dumbledore greeted with a smile from behind his long white beard.
"Hi." Harry finally managed to reply before asking, "What year is it?"
"1977." The Headmaster answered. Harry's brow furrowed as he calculated years and ages, and oh dear Merlin – polyester and disco. But if his math was correct his parents, Remus, Sirius and Hero were alive and in school. "May I ask, why you came through a door in my office?"
"Because the window was too high?" Harry offered as a response pushing himself off the floor. His bum was starting to hurt. Dumbledore chuckled.
"I meant this door that appeared in the middle of my office." Dumbledore gestured to the worn wooden door Harry had stepped through back in the Ministry. Harry looked at the door that stood there shut tightly, so innocent looking, then back at Dumbledore repeating the process a couple of times as he decided on what to tell him.
"It's a rather long, complicated story and you probably wouldn't believe me." Harry answered truthfully.
Dumbledore smiled and gestured to the chair in front of his desk as he told Harry, "Those are my favorite." Slowly Harry sat down in chair and started his rather long tale. Four and three-quarter hours later Harry found himself with a job, a place to stay, and an in on his plans though he still needed a false identity of course, because no one would believe he was the son of Lily and James. Except for Dumbledore, but he was a little out there anyway. Now all he had to do was wait for the term to start.
