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Harry laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed.

"Harry!" Hermione squawked as Harry collapsed onto the bench next to her. "This is serious!"

"No! He's Sirius!" Harry gasped the tired old joke even as he wiped tears – they were from laughing so hard, damn it, and nothing else – and gasped for breath.

Hermione frowned. "Harry! He's an incredibly powerful and possibly evil wizard!" She waved the newspaper under Harry's nose. "They think he's coming after you Harry!"

Harry was still laughing because, thank God, Sirius was really alive and actually okay and that was completely different from just sort of academically knowing that Sirius existed somewhere. He was going to see Sirius soon! How much different would it be to actually see Sirius again?

"See? It says here that Sirius Black got a mailer from an unknown party then started talking in his sleep about you being at Hogwarts!"

"A troll, the best prank war ever, and an escape from Azkaban!" Ron enthused messily around a mouthful of eggs to Hermione. "Hogwarts is so much more exciting than the Burrow!"

"Mmmm, can I see the paper?" Harry asked Ron as he plopped into a seat next to the redhead.

Ron ignored him.

Harry sighed. As he helped his plate, he directed his attention to an anxious-looking Hermione.

"Hermione did Rita Skeeter print my interview?"

"In the morning and evening editions!" she said, her expression obviously brightening. She straightened her shoulders and leaned across the table toward Harry. "She said that since he wasn't supposed to still be waiting for a trial, who could blame him for getting impatient and escaping?"

"He's lucky he got out when he did" Harry said darkly as he swallowed a mouthful of cereal. "Fudge would've had him Kissed rather than suffering any sort of scandal."

His three friends gasped. Ron's ears reddened and he ducked behind his newspaper again. Neville and Hermione just stared at Harry, horrified.

"He wouldn't!" Hermione gasped. "That's wrong!"

"Why not? If you don't care about how wrong it is to deny a man a trial that he's entitled to by law then why would you care about breaking a few laws and having that same man Kissed before he can say anything embarrassing about you?"

Neville shivered. He looked completely willing to believe Harry about Fudge.

'He knows the Wizarding World can be senselessly cruel' Harry thought as he watched Hermione's eyes narrow. 'Then again his relatives tossed him out of a window just to see if he had any magic.'

"It isn't right. People just don't do things like that."

"Believe what you will, Hermione."

From that moment on like everyone else Harry's attention was split between the numerous Sirius Black sightings and looking forward to the beginning of the quidditch season. Harry was nearly vibrating with his anticipation. Maybe Sirius would make it for his first game!

Harry took out a subscription in the Daily Prophet purely to keep track of the Sirius Black sightings. He religiously read it cover to cover. Of course there were the strange crackpot sightings but Harry knew his godfather well enough to spot some of the true sightings for what they were. Slowly but steadily Sirius Black was making his way towards Hogwarts!

Unfortunately, Harry was not the only one to arrive at that conclusion. Just like in the original timeline, Fudge sent the Dementors to guard the school. Harry tried to avoid the edges of the school grounds and tried to force himself to believe that Sirius was too clever to be caught by them. His subconscious, however, was not so easily persuaded. Harry's regular nightmares began to melt into new ones of a Kissed Barty Crouch Jr. who then turned into a Kissed Sirius Black.

It was the Tuesday before Harry's second run at his first quidditch game when Ron next spoke with Harry. He was frowning at yet another picture of a crying Peter Pettigrew on the cover of the Daily Prophet.

"The next time I'm sharing a bed with a murderous animagus, I expect you to tell me before you drag him off to the Aurors."

Harry blinked. "Alright."

Ron lowered the paper to glare at Harry. "I'm serious Harry. I expect to know what's going on during our next adventure – especially if it involves my smalls or my bed sheets or my pets or my anything."

Harry grinned. "'Course."

Sadly, Tuesday was also the day that Dumbledore delivered a stern warning over lunch to the unknown ink pranksters about tampering with Mr. Filch's cleaning supplies. Fred and George looked by turns impressed and wicked. After that it was only a matter of days before everyone's ink marks started fading. Everyone was still covered in fading ink marks the afternoon that the house elves served suspiciously familiar crème pies.

At the Gryffindor table Harry grinned and took a huge bite like everyone else in the hall. And like everyone else in the hall, he promptly turned into a canary.

He made a couple of circuits of the room before changing back into Harry just over the Slytherin table. Harry dropped onto a bench next to Theodore Nott who was spitting out feathers. Harry laughed and slung an arm around his Slytherin – whatever.

"That was brilliant!"

The canary crème had undone Harry's charm work on Theodore. Now all of his ink marks were fully visible in all of their fading glory. Once again, Harry wondered if maybe Theo had gotten into an ink smearing war of some sort with someone like Harry and Draco had.

Theodore grinned brightly at Harry. "Not one of yours I take it?"

"No! This is bloody brilliant! Gonna take another bite?"

"No. Once was enough. Why?"

Harry gestured at Theo's face. "It undid my charm work. Want a touch up?"

"Please."

A few charms later, Harry blinked at LeStrange. The fifth year scowled at Harry. It pulled at his fading red mustache.

"Haven't you worked it out yet?"

"Obviously not."

Harry shrugged and fished his wand out again. "Should've just asked then."

A few more charms then Harry reached for a spoon that Theodore swore was unused.

"Tell Draco and the others that I'll wait for them by the main staircase after lunch until I have to go to Care of Magical Creatures."

"You mean tell Draco and Daphne."

Harry flashed Theo a grin but said nothing either way.

"Harry" purred Pansy as she leaned in close to him. "Harry would you charm me too?"

"No."

Pansy drew back, insulted. "Why not?"

"You've made it clear that we're not friends."

And with that Harry took a second bite of canary crème pie. That time, he managed to turn back into himself right next to a much younger Cedric Diggory.

"Hello!" Cedric grinned.

"Harry Potter" Harry said while offering Cedric his right hand and plucking a cookie up with the other.

"Cedric Diggory."

Harry grinned. Cedric did not know it yet but that was going to be the beginning of a long lasting friendship. Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal friends after all. And Harry had a proven track record for being loyal to his friends.

"You're the Hufflepuff seeker. Fourth year, right?"

"Right."

And that was all it took to open a conversation about quidditch with Cedric Diggory.

At dinner that night everyone was looking at the food a bit nervously when a flurry of owls flew into the Great Hall with the evening edition of the Daily Prophet.

'First-Year Boy Who Lived Holds O.W.L.s Records!'

Harry groaned as the students at the other tables began to whisper and point.

'So much for laying low and pretending to be normal!'

On the day of his first match Harry was so excited that he could barely choke down the piece of toast that Hermione foisted off on him. When he changed he remembered to charm his glasses to stay on his face then put his phoenix feather wand into the pocket of his quidditch robes and zipped the pocket up. With Dark wizards, Dementors, and the spirit of Voldemort on the prowl it was best to always have your wand within reach. Constant vigilance and all that. The only reason the Elder Wand was still in the second drawer of Harry's trunk was because he could not quite shake the feeling that bringing the Elder Wand to a quidditch game at Hogwarts was overkill.

The crowd was excited and happy – not like fifth or sixth year – and the 'Potter for President' banner was just as amazing as the first time he saw it.

Harry was drifting over the game, looking for the snitch, when he spotted a giant black shape crouched under the Gryffindor stands. Harry straightened and drifted a bit closer to the Gryffindor stands. It was a grim! Sirius! Harry grinned widely and his heart began to pound. Sirius Black was alive and well and watching his first game! This was absolutely perfect!

Ten minutes later Flint slammed into Harry to block him from catching the snitch. Over the Gryffindors' shouts, Harry could hear the barks of a dog. Torn between smiling and scowling, Harry made a particular hand gesture at Flint then backed off to go back to searching for the snitch. As the ache in his shoulder faded, Harry thought he saw a flash of gold fluttering a hundred meters below him and slightly to his left.

When he moved to chase it, Harry's broom gave a sudden and alarming wrench under him. He yelped and grabbed onto his broom handle with both hands just as it began to wrench and buck.

"Shit" Harry moaned through his clenched teeth. "How did I forget about this?"

He could see the twins circling below him, their expressions strained and anxious. At least someone planned to catch him if he fell. Why hadn't Hermione knocked over Quirrell yet?

Harry was hanging upside down when a horribly familiar sense of cold began to creep over him, numbing his fingers and tightening his heart in his chest. At the back of his mind he heard the screams of a woman and a voice hissing "Kill the spare."

"Oh no" Harry groaned, even as his grip started to slip. He tried to tighten his grip with his legs and his left hand. With his right hand he scrabbled at the wand in the pocket of his quidditch robes.

A sudden jerk and Harry's left hand lost his grip entirely. Hanging upside down, his blood pounding in his head and his head filling with his worst memories, Harry began to despair.

'What about Voldemort' Harry thought fuzzily 'If I die here, who will kill him?'

Which was a sort of rallying thought since he wanted to fulfill his destiny; mostly so that no one else had to suffer through it. But living long enough to kill someone was no way to live at all.

Under him the broom listed. It was still not under his control but it was no longer actively trying to throw him off either.

Happy thoughts…

'Everyone's alive! I'm friends with Ron and Hermione again! But no one is the same… If I die I've sacrificed everything only to fail everyone at the very beginning!'

Harry used both hands to fumble his wand out of his robes. It was slippery in his grip. It took two hands to hold onto it. Black spots began to eat away at the blurred colors that made up his vision.

'Cedric isn't dead yet. And Sirius is alive and here and counting on me!'

"Expecto Patronum!"

A huge silver stag darted out of Harry's wand tip. Immediately the hopelessness gripping him receded. Harry went limp with relief. Instantly the broom wrenched forwards then backwards and this time Harry slid off of it entirely. Wand clutched in one hand, Harry fell toward the pitch head first and shouting. Something bashed into his face and somehow ended up in his mouth. Whatever it was fluttered against the inside of his cheeks.

Oh God…maybe it would be better if he were unconscious for this… not even a cushioning charm could –

"Urk!"

Something grabbed one ankle and a moment later something grabbed his other one. Harry jerked to an abrupt and painful halt. But he was alive. Wondrously, gloriously alive.

"Alright there Harry?" Fred grunted.

Harry choked on the… whatever was fluttering in his mouth. He suddenly and desperately hoped it was the snitch and not a small bird or a giant bug. Harry carefully spat the small, fluttering object into his empty hand. He curled his fingers around a glint of gold.

"I caught the snitch!"

Both twins laughed their voices tight but cheerful, as they slowly flew their brooms down toward the pitch. Hopefully someone would think to grab his broom. Underneath him Prongs was prancing around the quidditch pitch somehow managing to look fierce and arrogant at the same time. It was probably the way that he tossed his antlers. There was not a single Dementor in sight and Harry's mum was finally quiet.

"Way to keep your mind on the game" George teased.

"Wood'll be pleased that you're as crazy as he is."

"Am not!" Harry protested instinctively.

The twins just laughed at him as they carefully settled him on the pitch then went after his broom. Harry sat up. Across the pitch his patronus ranged outward, forcing the Dementors to clump together as he and a half-dozen other patroni herded them out of the stadium all together. Gone was their usual glide and in its place was a staggering, shuffling retreat.

When one Dementor tried to move past Prongs, the stag gored it with his antlers. The Dementor screamed soundlessly, a high pitched shrieked that echoed through Harry's head. It hurt almost as much as when Snape rifled through his brain. It was the best feeling Harry had ever felt in the presence of a Dementor. Harry smiled widely as Prongs shook that particular Dementor off of his antlers then menaced another with them. As the Dementors skittered away from Prongs, warmth and feeling finally began to burn through his nerve endings.

A quick glance at the area under the Gryffindor stands showed the dog to be gone. Harry wilted. Of course Sirius was gone. There was no way he would stick around with the Dementors hanging about. But what if the Dementors had caught him before he got away?

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked as she, Ron, Neville, and even Hagrid rushed onto the pitch. Her face flushed, Hermione hugged him then shoved him at Ron. Ron, his face far too pale, hugged him. After that Ron shoved Harry at Neville, who was still shaking and his eyes were huge. Neville hugged him before Hagrid literally swept him off of his feet into a nearly bone-crushing hug. Harry had never been hugged so often in such a short amount of time in the previous timeline.

Fred and George must have told the others that he had the snitch because his team mauled him next. Wood was so happy that he was nearly crying. Harry had a strong suspicion that Wood's happiness was directly linked to winning quidditch and nothing else. Fred and George hugged him purely as an excuse to ruffle his hair, mock him, and knock him about. It was actually really comforting. Suddenly there were Gryffindor everywhere hugging each other and shouting as if there had never been Dementors on the pitch.

The party that night was mind blowing. It was the first time that Gryffindor had won against Slytherin since Charlie Weasley had left school. Harry enjoyed it but some small part of him was stuck with the nagging worry: What if Sirius had not escaped the Dementors this time?

The next morning, after a sleepless night and before breakfast, Harry made his way to Professor Snape's office. His heart pounding wildly, Harry knocked on the door.

"Go away!" snarled Professor Snape. "It's Sunday!"

Harry kept knocking.

"Enter!"

Harry straightened his shoulders and marched into the office of a man who literally could not stand the sight of him. Currently, that man was hunched over essays, his quill tipped in the dreaded red ink scratching incomprehensible comments. It was probably best for all parties that even Hermione could decipher only one in four comments.

"Potter" Professor Snape sneered when he caught sight of his visitor. "What do you want?"

Harry took a deep steadying breath. If someone had told him a year ago that he would thank Severus Snape for anything, he would have laughed then hexed that guy's balls off.

How things changed.

Gryffindor courage marshaled, Harry took another deep steadying breath then blurted "Thank you sir."

Professor Snape stilled. Even his face and fingers stilled. One hand still held his quill and the other was curled around the rolled top of a scroll. The look in his glittering black eyes changed from thinly veiled loathing to something else. Harry had a long, emotionally charged relationship with Severus Snape. They had spied on each other, screamed at each other, frightened each other, and driven each other half-mad. Their long history was filled with their highs, lows, and worst possible moments. But in Harry's experience with Professor Snape this was a completely new expression and a completely unknown emotion.

"For what?"

There was no emotion in Snape's voice. It made Harry nervous. Harry's eyes darted about. There were still nasty potions ingredients on the walls. There were still no rugs on the floor or paintings on the wall. Snape was still staring at him. Harry took another deep breath, focused on how grateful he was not to be dead, and carefully met Severus Snape's eyes.

"You saved me from Professor Quirrell even though I'm pretty sure that you hate me. So thank you."

The lightest of mental touches skimmed across Harry's mind. The fact that Harry knew it and could feel the intrusion was a huge step in his Occlumency skills. At least he now knew when people were casually violating his mind. Professor Snape merely touched on Harry's gratitude then withdrew.

'He wanted to make sure that I meant it' Harry realized. 'Did he think this was a prank?'

"I don't know what you're talk about" Professor Snape said at last. But a lot of the bite and vitriol that he usually directed towards Harry had gone out of his tone.

Harry smiled. "Yes sir. And I'm also very sorry sir."

Harry watched Professor Snape's eyes narrow. This time he was careful not to catch the professor's eye.

"For what?"

"Yesterday – at the match – someone may have set you on fire."

"Who was it?"

"That person thought you were cursing my broom."

"Who – was – it?"

"I'm sorry that person set you on fire. It's just that you're a lot more frightening than Quirrell and –"

"Potter! The name!"

"That person was only trying to save my life!"

"Now!"

Harry flinched in spite of himself. He focused his eyes on Professor Snape's large nose. "No sir."

Professor Snape's voice became low and ominous. "You will tell me the name or you will have detention for the rest of the year."

Harry was silent.

"Very well Mr. Potter. I will see you Monday night at the usual time."

"Yes sir."

Harry left, slamming the door behind himself.

'That miserable greasy git! I apologized! For something that Hermione did! And there was no way that I set Snape on fire! Snape knows that too so why –'

Harry drew in a deep shuddering breath. He tried to find that calm place in his mind, the one that he had worked so long and so hard at Occlumency to create. He was still toweringly angry over Snape's unfairness but it was more distant from his thoughts. His feelings were still there and still required dealing with but at least he could think around them.

Snape was being unfair. They both knew that. And they both knew that neither Dumbledore nor any other professor would protect Harry from it. Well fine. Harry could make this work. He could! Because Professor Snape from the previous timeline had already given Harry everything Harry needed to deal with that miserable bastard. He was James Potter's son… but he was Lily Evans' son too.

All of the other first years seemed to be at breakfast by the time Harry arrived. Harry plopped himself between Hermione and Neville.

"Where were you?" Ron demanded through a mouthful of eggs.

"Getting detention for the rest of the year from Snape" Harry said nonchalantly.

"What?"

Word spread quickly up and down the Gryffindor table.

"He can't do that!" Oliver Wood shouted, outrage written in every line of his body. "If you have detention every weeknight, you'll miss all of our quidditch practices!"

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? What did you do anyway?"

"Erm… I apologized to him."

Everyone gaped at Harry. After a moment, Oliver firmed his jaw.

"I'm going to protest this! I'm going straight to Professor Dumbledore with this outrage! Snape isn't going to get away with sabotaging our quidditch season!" He grabbed Harry by the shoulders. "Don't worry Harry! If worse comes to worse, we'll move practices to our free periods and the weekends!"

Harry could literally feel the chasers' glares burning into him.

"Erm… thanks Oliver. But it's probably not necessary for everyone to practice with me on the weekends. Maybe – maybe just you and me and – erm – maybe the twins sometimes."

"Nonsense Harry! We're a team! We're in this together!"

And with that Oliver stormed off.

"Apologized, eh?" Fred said as the twins moved to sit on either side of Harry. "I solemnly swear –"

" – that we'll never apologize to the greasy git if –"

" – that's the sort of moral reinforcement we'll get."

Under the table, George pressed the Marauders' Map into Harry's hand. Harry quietly pocketed the map with no one any the wiser. Harry waited until Ron and Hermione were busy arguing about something stupid and Neville was busy with Dean and Seamus before he slipped out of the Great Hall and made his way down to the kitchens. Once there he had the house elves prepare a picnic.

"How many people are going on Master Harry's picnic?" asked one of the more elderly house elves, Wibbly. Wibbly always seemed to be one of the first to greet Harry in both timelines.

"Eh, I'm not sure. But we'll be super hungry so you should give me as much food as you'd like. Just make sure that it's stuff I can lightening and shrinking charms on."

"Oh yes, Master Harry!"

And so it began. "Master Harry will need ham and cheese sandwiches."

"And quiche!"

"And tarts!"

"And chicken!"

"And pumpkin juice!"

And on and on it went until Harry remembered the original timeline when even a saner Sirius had looked like more of an animal than a man as he tore into the chicken.

Harry said, "I think we'll be lucky to eat all of that. We'll need lots of napkins, silverware, plates, cups, and a couple of good thick blankets to sit on."

Then Harry shrank the hampers of food and the heaps of blankets, pocketed everything, thanked the elves until they blushed, and left. He used the Marauder's Map and several secret passageways to avoid everyone who might stop him as he made his way to the hag statue. Once he was in Hogsmeade he wandered toward the Shrieking Shack until he was out of sight of the village then cut sharply through the trees and into the forest surrounding the wizarding village. From there he headed in the general direction of the cave that Harry vaguely remembered Sirius holing up in during fourth year. It took a few hours but Harry eventually found what he believed was the right path.

Hot under all of his layers, Harry trudged up into the hills. His eyes were cast downward, focused completely on his feet and the rough path. Ahead of him there was suddenly a low, menacing snarl.

Harry stopped still and looked up. His stomach suddenly seemed to have fallen down to his knees and his heart was pounding. Ahead of him on the path was a snarling grim.

The grim was too skinny, his coat was matted, and his pale blue eyes were only vaguely sane but he was definitely and without a doubt Padfoot. Sirius. Harry's knees were suddenly too rubbery to hold him up. He sat down where he was standing and just stared at the dog. For some reason he had trouble catching a breath.

"Padfoot" he whispered.

One hand reached for the mostly mad dog. Padfoot crouched and backed away, his lips curling back even farther over his truly impressive set of teeth.

Harry's heart hurt. This was much worse than Ginny looking at him like he belonged in a zoo or Ron and Hermione not knowing that they were best friends. This was –

"Sirius."

The grim bolted.

For several wasted moments Harry watched the bushes the grim had retreated into, waiting for a man to reappear.

'He's not coming back' Harry slowly realized. 'He's gone!'

Harry staggered to his feet. "Padfoot!" he shouted as he threw himself onto the bushes the dog had disappeared into. "Padfoot! Come back!"

Twigs tore at his face and hands, he twisted his ankles on roots, and his heart was pounding so hard that there was no way he could possibly hear a dog running through te underbrush. Harry staggered onward but eventually even he had to admit that the dog was gone.

Harry kept running.

Eventually he was deep within the forbidden forest and quite lost.

'Shit! How many times have I passed that hagish stump? Three times? Fou –'

"Aaagh!" Harry screamed and flailed as something huge slammed into his back. Whatever it was, it was heavy, furry, and smelled like wet dog. Teeth snapped next to Harry's right ear.

Harry went very very still.

'God, I'm an idiot' Harry thought bitterly, his cheek pressed into a pile of moldering leaves. 'I knew that he broke out over a picture of Scabbers the first time. Never bothered to think about why did I? I just sent him more pictures of Scabbers the second time around. I was so busy worrying about Fudge getting Sirius Kissed to get rid of the evidence, it never occurred to me to worry about Sirius being a danger to anyone else. Especially me.'

For the first time it occurred to him that in both versions of the timeline, Sirius had broken out of Azkaban to have his vengeance on Peter not to save Harry.

Raising him was, at best, an afterthought to Sirius.

There was a pop then the weight on his back redistributed. A rough hand groped its way through his right pocket before closing around his wand.

Pain, starting at the base of his skull, stabbed through his head.

Darkness.