Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the Queen. I do not own a thing. Happy reading! And reviewers (KiwiinLondon), thanks a lot. Really Motivates me to keep going! :)

Chapter 2: Hogwarts Back in 1971

Harry finally made his way up to his room after having tucked his youngest in bed, promising to get her a spinning orb with swirling stars and dancing princesses, IF she promised to sleep. Ginny, Hermione and Angelina were still in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner and chatting away about things Harry would never understand (sometimes he wonders how anyone would have the energy to discuss at length about Pansy's double-chin or the "Change-With-Your-Mood" shoes).

After having finally found time to be on his own, Harry gingerly pulled out Sirius's diary from his cupboard and took in a deep breath. He didn't know what to expect; he didn't even know if it was okay for him to be going through his godfather's diary. Just a little peak, maybe, Harry smirked to himself and carried the diary over to his desk, overcome with curiosity. With excitement peaking, he gently opened the book turned the first page. He blinked in horror. Shaking his confusion, he ruffled through the rest of the pages in the diary and felt a pang of disappointment: the book was empty. There was not even the slightest trace of writing throughout the book. Frustrated, his slammed the book shut and rubbed his eyes, feeling foolish beyond words.

He sat there in silence for a moment. He did not even understand why this was disturbing him so much and kept going over it again and again... Honestly, why should Sirius's diary appear out of nowhere after all these years and then end up being entirely BLANK?

Unless…

Harry took out his quill and blotted some ink on the parchment, and held his breath. To his utter astonishment, the ink vanished slowly, just like it had with Tom's diary! His heart skipped a beat and his excitement levels sky-rocketed. He had done this before and he was going to do it again. With shaky hands, he wrote, "Is this Sirius Black?"

His words vanished from the paper, and new words appeared: "Hello, Harry, how have you been? I've waited for so long for you to write to me."

Harry sat there, gobsmacked, absolutely stupefied by what had just happened. How is this even possible? IS it even possible? Oh wait, it's just Sirius's memory, so I guess it is possible, but… he's been WAITING for me to write to him? Could he be…? No.. Of course not… No I can't think like that… He's gone, dead… This is a MEMORY… Harry Potter, you are NOT to become obsessed like you did with the Mirror of Erised…

Harry's thoughts were cut short by newer words appearing on the page.

"Let me show you what life was back in 1971. Let me take you down memory lane, Harry, my dearest godson."

And then, without warning, there was sudden gush of wind sweeping into the room, the diary plopped open and pages started blowing through until it reached a page marked "September, 1st 1971" and, before Harry knew it, he was falling head first into the diary. Everything around him changed. He saw a whirlwind of colour and shadows everywhere, and everything seemed to be growing bigger and bigger until he hit solid ground. At first, everything was slightly out of focus, and the sounds around him were hushed. Within minutes, however, his surroundings came into focus and he realized he was standing in the Great Hall, with students lining the four House Tables. The Sorting Hat was kept on the toadstool and was singing away to glory, while Professor McGonagall, who looked a lot younger, stood in front of a long line of first years, waiting to be sorted.

Harry immediately recognized a face that almost made his stomach do a somersault. There, grinning ecstatically and chatting away incessantly, was the 11-year James Potter with his iconic messy black hair. Harry couldn't believe his eyes. He was actually seeing his father back when he was a little kid! Harry suddenly realized he was smiling stupidly and ruffling up his hair more than usual.

What Harry hadn't realized yet was that the boy that James was chatting with would eventually end-up being his godfather! Without a doubt, Sirius's was one of the most beautiful faces among the several 1st-years. Already being slightly taller for his age, Sirius sported jet-black hair and a smile that would eventually drive the girls nuts in the next couple of years. Harry chuckled to himself as the scenes fast-forwarded to the Marauders' sorting. Quite predictably, four 11-year-old's got sorted into Gryffindor.

Sirius and James were now seated exactly in front of Harry and were engrossed in a boisterous conversation. Harry scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion and craned his neck to see where Remus and Peter were and, bizarrely enough, found them sitting elsewhere, alone and nervous; it was evident the four of them hadn't yet formed a bond yet.

Peter was seated further down the table between two third-year students while a battered-looking Remus sat right at the far end of the table towards the teachers. Of the several first-year students that had joined the Gryffindor's table, Remus's face was the most distinct of them all, owing to the dozen or so scars and stitches that lined his face. It was clear no one wanted to be friends with a boy who looked like he'd fought in a war.

Peter, Harry noticed, was constantly shooting glances up and down the table and seemed extremely out of place in contrast to the other first-years around him who were laughing and gleaming with excitement to be seated in the legendary Great Hall. He was slightly rounder and shorter for his age and seemed like a very shy and introverted little boy. Funnily, Harry had expected to seethe with indignation and hatred at the sight of Peter even before he had plunged into Sirius's diary and yet, here was, feeling only compassion and empathy for the scared and timid-looking 11-year-old with large eyes.

As Harry continued to watch the Sorting in the Great Hall, he noticed Sirius's face suddenly dart back to the front of the room.

"Williams, Isabella!" cried out McGonagall, and a scared, rather chubby girl with bushy black hair stepped up. Her face was ridden with pimples and her wide, hazel-nut eyes bore such fear, Harry almost felt a paternal urge to comfort the little child before he realized he's in someone's memory. His heart sank when he saw red paint smeared to the back of Isabella's school robes and a couple of first year girls were mirthlessly giggling behind her. Harry instantly knew that the girls were responsible for this and helplessly watched as tears streamed down Isabella's face. She, however, surprised Harry when she tugged at her robes and hid it out of sight from McGonagall and continued walking slowly towards the Hat, putting on a brave face.

That's my girl, thought Harry as a slow smile crept up his face. This one's definitely getting into Gryffindor, he thought, as he made a mental note to teach that kind of bravery to little Lily.

"GRYFFINNNNNDOR!" roared the hat and little Isabella scuttled off towards the Gryffindor table looking positively flushed. Oddly, not many cheers greeted her from the table.

"Oh, thank god," breathed Sirius out of nowhere, making everyone look up at him, including Harry.

"What...?" allowed James, looking just as curious as Harry (Harry realized just HOW closely he resembled his dad).

"What?" Sirius repeated, almost choking on his pumpkin juice and turned to look at James with eyes the size of tennis balls, clearly embarrassed at being caught. However, when James's expression slowly transitioned from mere disgust to full-blown nausea, a nervous Sirius immediately jumped to do some damage-control. "Oh, no, no, no! I don't her at all! We just... We're neighbours..." Sirius said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "But, I don't even know her name, so..." he fake-laughed, welcoming even more confused looks from the onlookers.

"Well, Professor Mconagall just called out her name. It's Isabella Williams..." he said, with eyebrows raised so high they threatened to jump right out of his skull.

"Of course!" he spluttered, and grinned nervously. "Oh and... I don't know her or have even seen her before, by the way," he said and frantically nodded his head as if desperate to drive his point home. "And she's not my best friend... AT ALL!" he squeaked even louder, only to crash hard on his face as Isabella bounded straight towards Sirius and snuggled between him and another older boy at the table.

"We're in the same House!" she squealed and hugged him tight. But Sirius, whose face had turned a shade of deathly white now, didn't, for one second, remove his eyes from James's appalled expression and laughed weakly, trying to salvage whatever dignity there was left of him.

"Just hope you don't make me be seen with her when we waltz around these great corridors now," he said, shaking his head arrogantly, not caring for one second if Isabella could hear him or not. "Anyway, shush there!" he yelled, and craned his head back at the ceremony. "I really want to know which House Evans is getting into," chortled James, his eyes twinkling immediately.

"Evans, Lily!" bellowed McGonagall and a little girl with bright red hair, who looked strikingly as Harry's own little Lily, walked up to the stool. The Hat barely scraped the redhead, before screaming, "GRYYYYFFINDOR!" one more time, this time, almost the whole table broke into applause welcoming her to their House.

Young Lily almost jumped off the stool and darted towards the House table, her face flushed with excitement.

Sirius, immediately put his hand out.

"Hello! I'm Sirius Black!" squeaked Sirius, with a wide grin on his face that was eventually replaced with a rather pained, constipated expression, as he received a hard nudge to his ribs from James. Lily immediately scowled at James, which, he obviously seemed to ignore.

"I'm James! James Potter! You can sit with us!" he said, happily patting the seat next to him.

"Thank you, but I think I'll go sit with my friends over there," she said, pointing at a group of first-year girls on the other side. "And you're not very nice!" she added, before turning away and leaving James hanging there awkwardly with his hand still held out.

James turned to look at Sirius, who was positively glowering at him, and let out a meek laugh and thumped his friend on the back, as if to say, I hope that stays just between the two of us.

Harry was laughing so hard at all this, he was literally in tears. It was beyond anything he had ever imagined to know what had happened and how it had all happened back in 1971. This was truly priceless: to be able to see and KNOW how his dad grew up and re-live it WITH HIM? Harry hadn't expected that.

Harry was coming to the end of that memory and just as a bright light engulfed him and as everything around him slowly started to fade, he saw Sirius hanging around, waiting for Isabella to finish tying her lace, and have a brief chat with her, before running off to join his friends at the very front of the crowd.