Title: Time's Veil
Author: The Fifth Marauder
Rating: PG-13 for mild language
Date Started: June 22, 2004
The last thing Sirius saw was Harry's face. He'd been pale, his bright green eyes opened wide with shock, surprised, as Sirius himself was, that he could be so easily dispatched. He fell, his own long, black hair seeming to feather around him as he dropped behind the veil. It was like falling through space. Closing his grey eyes tightly, he braced his back for the inevitable shock of stone floor against spine and shoulder blade, but none came. He was motionless, suspended on nothing, he threw his hands out behind him to grasp for the ground, for anything that he could stand on, lean on, hold on to. Anything stable.
"Sirius," an all-too-familiar voice said his name cheerfully, but he refused to open his eyes. He didn't want to see that wayward, smiling face. The second he did, he'd know he was dead, that this was real. "Sirius, open your eyes," the voice said again, and he cried out in panic, "No!" There was a pause, and then the voice laughed. "You afraid, Padfoot?" Sirius said nothing for what felt like an eternity. He didn't know where he was, what was happening, what had happened. "Yes, I'm afraid," He answered.
Feeling the shock of someone sitting beside him, he realized at last that he was on solid ground. Not stone, as the floor onto which he should have fallen, but highly polished hardwood. "You blacked out," The voice said, and Sirius shifted slightly. "I…where am I?" He asked, finally submitting and opening his eyes. It was as he'd expected. James sat beside him, peering intently down at him with an expression of mixed worry and curiosity. "…Am I in heaven?" he inquired in a whisper, and James grinned. "Why Padfoot, I didn't know you thought so much of me." He chuckled, flashing his token boyish smile. "No, you're not in heaven. Just in class. Moony and Wormtail went to get Madame Pomfrey when you collapsed."
It took Sirius a long moment before he realized just where he was. He was on the floor of the History of Magic classroom at Hogwarts. James was just a boy. He couldn't have been older than sixteen. Looking at him, confused, and utterly shaken, Sirius sat up as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Where's Harry?" He demanded, and James all but leapt back. "Harry?" His friend asked, chuckling lightly. "Who're you talking about, Sirius?" Sirius stood as quickly as he could, but had to clap his hands over his head as a searing pain scorched through his brain, and sent him to his knees again. "I need to find him! Where is he?!" He cried out.
Feeling James's hands shaking his shoulders, he gasped slightly, eyes wide, terrified that he'd lost his godson. He hadn't thought to find it peculiar that James was here, very much alive, and the image of his boyhood. "James," He breathed, staring into his friend's worried brown eyes as if he'd just noticed he was there. "James…you're…" Sirius took a step back, practically panicking now, his hands at his sides. "You're alive." He whispered.
James raised his eyebrows, staring for a moment, before laughing lightly and saying, "Of course I'm alive, Padfoot. Why shouldn't I be?" Sirius shook his head slightly, watching his friend, gaping at him, really. "But…but you were dead. I…I saw-" He was cut off, however, when a light, but still forceful voice said, "You must have hit your head harder than we thought, Padfoot." Sirius turned to face the door, and there was Remus, one hand on the doorframe, his mouth slightly open, peering at Sirius through his mop of untidy brown bangs. "Moony," he breathed, and stood again, slower this time.
"He's in here, Madame Pomfrey," Another voice just outside the door said. It was a squeaky voice, awkward and quiet. "He fell out of his chair just as the lesson was ending," Sirius recognized that voice, but waited until the speaker appeared at the door before he dashed forward, screaming, tearing for Peter Pettigrew's throat. A surprisingly strong arm grasped him around the middle, pulling him back, and he turned his head sharply to glare into James's startled eyes. "Padfoot, what's the matter with you?!" His friend demanded, his glasses askew, sliding down the bridge of his lightly freckle-dusted nose.
Peter, surprised, had fallen back against the doorframe, and now Remus helped him to his feet, and Madame Pomfrey started forward. "Mr. Black!" She puffed, "Is that any way to repay your friend for running the length of the castle to fetch me? Now sit down, and we'll have a look at you." Sirius didn't sit, however, he lashed out against James's hold again, and snarled, "I'll never be thankful! After all, isn't fetching what you're good at, Peter? Fetching like the dog you are!" Remus let out a light, airly laugh as Peter stared, thunderstruck, at Sirius. Even James cracked a smile at the irony of his friend's statement, holding Sirius close from behind, bracing his legs for him to jump out again.
"Sit down, Mr. Black!" Madame Pomfrey snapped again, and James yanked Sirius back into one of the desks. "He hit his head, you say, Mr. Pettigrew?" She directed her question at Peter, who went very red and nodded fervently. "Yes, ma'am," Remus said politely. One look at his highly polished prefect badge told Sirius that they were in their fifth year at Hogwarts…before Remus had let his badge fall into disrepair, and the year they became Animagi.
Ten minutes later, when Madame Pomfrey had checked him from head to toe, she proclaimed that there was nothing physically wrong with Sirius, but he should go back to his dormitory to rest, and maybe clear his head a little. In the corridor, Sirius pushed his hand through his hair, very surprised to find it cropped short, as he wore it when he was a boy. What was going on, here? James came up on his right, Peter and Remus on his left. "Padfoot, are you feeling alright?" Remus asked quietly, "You went a little crazy back there…" Peter lifted his frightened, watery eyes to Sirius, but said nothing.
"This is all a dream," Sirius proclaimed, shrugging. "There's no way any of this could be possible." James shook his head slowly, reaching for his friend's shoulder. "Sirius, you just need to lay down. When you're rested up, we'll talk about your dream," He said, a touch of laughter rising to his voice.
Sirius lay up in the Gryffindor dormitory, quite awake for someone who was supposed to be sleeping. He stared at the canopy of his four-poster, narrowing his eyes at the slightly billowing crimson fabric. This was ridiculous. He had to be dreaming…had to be…asleep, dead, whatever he was. He could still see Harry's blood streaked and pale face, Lily's eyes boring into his own grey ones as he fell. Harry…what must be going through his head now? Did he believe Sirius dead? He had no way of knowing.
Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he hopped to his feet, noticing with a touch of glee that he was full of energy, not like he usually was. He really was a boy again, and it exhilarated him to no end. Pacing the dormitory he remembered so clearly in his mind, he approached the window, peering out onto the lush Hogwarts grounds. The Whomping Willow swayed ominously in the slight spring breeze, and Sirius sighed lightly. Somehow…this had to be a dream. Lily and James were dead. Peter was Lord Voldemort's most trusted servant. Thinking of Peter, Sirius's lip twitched in a slight snarl.
If this really was his past…if he'd really somehow skipped backward in time, he had to do something about that rat, and soon. Nobody knew exactly when it was Peter Pettigrew turned over to the dark side. Sirius was so preoccupied with his musings that he didn't notice the dormitory door open and close behind him. "Padfoot?" James's voice said softly, and Sirius startled, and then slowly turned. And then, there was James. Sirius never told anyone exactly how much he missed his deceased best friend. The closest he'd ever come was two years earlier, during he and Harry's first confrontation in the Shrieking Shack.
"James," He said with an awkward smile, and James, upon seeing his face, laughed lightly. "You look like an old man when you do that, Padfoot." James told him, laughing, and Sirius shrugged, muttering, "You have no idea…" James looked up with a mild smile. "What was that?" "Nothing."
"What was your deal today, Sirius?" James asked, coming up beside Sirius by the window. He spoke in a whisper, as not to wake any more of the dormitory's residents. Sirius shook his head slowly. "Honestly, you wouldn't believe me if I told you." He said quietly, and James raised his eyebrows, obviously skeptical. "Try me." He said, and Sirius said, "I'd rather not."
"Peter's really spooked," The messy-haired boy said, grinning a little and craning his neck to peer out through the slightly rippled glass. "You looked like you wanted to kill him back there." Sirius shrugged, but said nothing to reply to that. Did he want to kill Peter? Surely. But was this Peter yet the Peter he despised? He sighed a little bit, stepping back slowly.
"Want to go for a walk?" he asked James casually, smiling slightly. If he was back in his past, as it seemed, he'd have infinate time to think about Peter. Right now, he wanted to be with James, talk once more with his truest friend as he so missed talking to him in the years after his untimely death. "It's after hours," Replied James with a small smirk, and Sirius looped an arm around his friend's neck, dragging him toward the dormitory door. "Never stopped us before, Prongs!"
(A/N: Hi there. ;; Yes, I haven't written in such a long time...goodness...but I have an unhealthy obsession with Sirius, so I maintain that he's NOT dead...and this fic is the adaptation of what I think should have happened. XD;; Um. Anyway. Please review if you want me to continue...I promise there'll be lots of Snape and Lily and Remus and people other than Sirius and James! :D Proomise! Thanks for reading, in any case!)