A/N: I know that this chapter is vague and doesn't really explain anything. I just wanted to set up a context for the rest of the story. I'll explain more in the next chapter, possibly with a short rundown in the Author's Note, just because I feel this story might get confusing to someone reading it. I mean, it sounded fine in my head, but…..I'll be quiet now. Enjoy (I hope!)
N.B. Runaway Train is rated PG-13 for language and thematic elements
Harry Potter awoke with a start, sweat dripping off his forehead and into his eyes. His scar was burning in his skull, the pain combining with the darkness of his room to make him temporarily blind. He fumbled on the nightstand, his hands groping trying to find his glasses. He found them in a minute and put them on, the pain in his forehead abating as he slowly came fully awake. Another nightmare.
Ever since the end of his fourth year, Harry couldn't get a decent night's sleep. His fears of Sirius being caught coupled with the images of his parents materializing out of smoke in front of him were too much…every night there was another horrific nightmare, every night another dream in which Cedric died and he, Harry, couldn't do anything about it. But even worse than the nightmares was the guilt. Harry was ridden with the guilt of knowing that it was, at least in part, his own fault that Voldemort was back. It was his blood that had brought the evil sorceror out of retirement, so to speak.
Harry sighed and turned over in bed to face his window. He was looking for Hedwig; she'd been missing for over a week now, and Harry was beginning to get worried. He rolled onto his stomach and wondered, when had he ever not been worried?
When Harry was little, he worried about Dudley: Dudley teasing him, Dudley getting him into trouble with Uncle Vernon, Dudley sticking his head in the toilet….Then Harry was accepted into Hogwarts and his bratty cousin became the least of his worries. When Harry was eleven, he worried about Voldemort trying to steal the sorceror's stone…When he was twelve, he worried about weird hissing noises coming from the walls of the school…When he was thirteen, he worried about Sirius Black coming to kill him. Now that he was fourteen (almost fifteen) he worried about Sirius being killed by the Ministry of Magic. Harry paused to consider the irony in that, then went back to worrying, chewing on his lower lip.
Two hours later, he was still awake, still worried, and getting more and more anxious about where on earth his owl could be. It wasn't like her to take off for this long at a time. By then the sky was beginning to lighten from pitch black to gray, the stars slowly winking out one by one. Harry knew that the sun would be up soon. Just then he heard a soft tapping at his window. He turned his head and gave a small sigh of relief; it was Hedwig. He let her in, not noticing the envelope tied to her leg as he stroked her back and then left to go fill her water dish with water from the bathroom down the hall. When he came back she was perched on his pillow at the head of his bed, her head cocked to one side and her leg held out. Harry relieved Hedwig of her burden and only then would the bird fly to her cage and take a deep drink of water.
While his owl was busy guzzling, Harry opened the envelope to find a very short note:
Harry-
I'm coming back, there's something I
need to tell you. Meet me tomorrow night at midnight, in the Dursley's
backyard.
"Snuffles"
Harry wondered what could possibly be so important that Sirius would risk coming back to England. By now, the sun was completely risen in the sky and Harry could hear sounds of movement coming from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's bedroom. Dudley, of course, slept in during the summer holidays, and so wouldn't be up for hours. Harry wondered again why Sirius would risk meeting him…he also wondered what horrible news he would be receiving (because was there ever an emergency that constituted good news?) at midnight tomorrow night- the exact moment that he, Harry Potter, turned fifteen.
The next night, Harry had a hard time staying awake until midnight, what with his having gotten about two hours of sleep the previous night. His eyelids started to droop around 10 o'clock and from then on it was a constant battle not to slip off into dream land. I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes….,he thought to himself.
Two hours later Harry received a rude awakening; Hed wig was perched on his pillow, just above his head, and was nipping at his ear. Harry's head jerked upwards, his eyes flying to the clock on his nightstand. 12:07.
Chiding himself for falling asleep, Harry stumbled out of bed, got dressed, and quietly slipped out of his bedroom and down the stairs to the front door. He managed to escape the house without any of the Dursleys awakening, then ran for the backyard.
He found a big, black dog pacing back and forth across the lawn. Sirius transformed as soon as he saw Harry, and after a rather strained greeting, the two sat down on the grass.
"What is it you have to tell me?" Harry asked, his face a mask of anxiety.
"Well, its not so much somehing that can be explained in words…I had been planning on showing you this when you graduated Hogwarts, but, well, things change…" Sirius replied. Harry got even more worried at this statement, for Sirius' tone had been one of urgency and, even more unnerving, sadness. Yes, Harry could sense a terrible sadness in his godfather. The man looked bedraggled once more, his face covered with stubble and his clothes worn and faded. Of course, his appearance could have been attributed to the fact that he was still on the run from the Ministry of Magic, but Harry knew deep down that Sirius had become run down by some emotional burden, rather than physical strain.
"Okay, so show me then," said Harry.
"Alright. I assume you've seen one of these?" Sirius asked, pulling a pensieve out from under one of the lilac bushes in the Dursley's backyard.
"Yeah, in Professor Dumbledore's office. They show thoughts, memories…" Harry replied, wondering where this was going.
"Not just that. They can act as windows…windows into what could have been. Let me explain," Sirius said, seeing Harry opening his mouth to interrupt. "Think about it. What would have happened if your parents had never met? You wouldn't be here, Voldemort would most likely have taken over the entire magical world, I'd still be a free man…all of these things would have happened- or wouldn't have happened, depending on how you look at it- if James hadn't crashed into Lily that day in Diagon Alley before school started. She dropped all of her books and he helped her pick them up. They probably would never have spoken otherwise; she was in Ravenclaw, and one year behind James, who was in Gryffindor with me. So, do you see how one event can affect many other events down the line?" Harry nodded. "Okay, well, a pensieve like this one can be enchanted to show all of these "what-if"'s. That's what I wanted to show you."
As Sirius spoke, the silver gray fog in the pensieve began to swirl. Harry looked into it and saw a montage of faces: his mother, his father, Sirius, Draco Malfoy, Harry himself, a baby crying, Ron, Hermione….
"Okay, what event didn't happen in what you're showing me?" Harry asked, finally understanding.
"I am going
to show you what would have been if your parents were alive today," Sirius
said, his face now markedly sad. "Happy fifteenth birthday, by the way."
