Hi guys! Long time no see! Aren't I just great at updating? I do apologize for the wait - I feel as if the time between updates keeps getting longer, whilst my chapters decrease in length... I do hope that's not the case! But as I said, I apologize (in my defense I have uploaded some other stuff) and there's a lot of excuses that I won't bore you all with.

On another note, I have discovered that it is possible to reply to reviews, so I no longer have to spam you all! So after this chapter, I shall reply to them through the email thing rather than on a who-knows-when-it-shall-be-done chapter :) But for now, review replies!

IndigoDragonRider:Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies? Sorry, I know it wasn't actually a question but I really wanted to throw that in. But, you never know, who says I'm sticking with canon? Of course, I may be, I may not... All shall be revealed... Eventually. :P

CrypticCritic (Guest): Once again, I do apologize for my er, 'breaks'. But thank you, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear well, how happy my updates make you :) It does make me feel loved - thank you! I promise I will see this story through to the end! May take a while though... Also, I'm afraid I must ask: 'without wax'? Care to explain...?

Also, thank you very much to bluelightningbug, , Mackenzied3333, elena2awesome, PoeticNonsenseNinjaStyle, the-compulsive-tea-drinker, brilliant incandescence and Icecoollolly for all the lovely reviews and encouragement! I'm afraid I must say this is the first time I've received threats to my personage if the story were not continued... I am flattered :P

Anyway, I once again thank you all for the favourites, follows, and reviews! Honestly, every time I receive a notification it encourages me to get back to writing (I'm afraid I just stop after a while, but then I get another one! So thank you all!)

That's enough of annoying A/Ns, go forth, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! (Can't promise another one any time soon... :P )

Chapter 11 – One Week

"My patience is wearing thin, Regulus. You have one week."

"Good! Well done – let's try once again. Imperio,"

In the classroom, Sirius Black and Professor Jameson were having their weekly 'torture' sessions – Sirius thought it sounded more dramatic and sinister that way. Besides, it also provided a better incentive for him to try harder.

After a few minutes were nothing happened, Sirius finally collapsed on the ground, panting.

"Twice in a row? My my, you are improving – and here I thought your head was filled only with air,"

This caused Sirius to raise his head and throw a very heated glare at his Professor, whose lips twitched ever so slightly.

"I am genuinely quite impressed – I'd ask you if you'd been practicing, but then I'd be obliged to inquire about the identity of whoever's been casting Unforgivables in their spare time,"

Sirius blushed a bit, but answered his Professor's unasked question. "I looked up some theories in the Library," Restricted Section remained unsaid. Genuine amusement seemed to flicker through Jameson's eyes.

"Notorious prankster, Sirius Black, reading a book, in the Library? Now that's a way to give McGonagall a heart attack," Jameson said. "Anyway, get rid of that constipated look, and I'd say you've got Imperius resistance learnt,"

Sirius huffed. He didn't know why, but his Professor seemed to take extra pleasure in teasing him mercilessly, something he would not have thought possible a month ago. Professor Jameson with a mischievous streak? As impossible as Snivellus obtaining a sense of humour. And some shampoo. Spending these 'remedial lessons' with him though, Sirius had discovered that his Professor was actually extremely expressive, just not in the way everyone else would say to be so. To most people, it would appear as if he had a constant look of blankness on his face, and his tone would appear to be fairly bored – monotone – as well. However, the more you got to know him, the easier it was to find the little traces of emotions that dart through his eyes or carry through his words, and also the minute twitches in his face which showed his thoughts. In these few weeks, it became quite clear to Sirius that Jameson actually showed a lot of emotion, just less perceptible than normal people.

(Something did niggle at the back of his mind though, that Jameson hadn't always been that inexpressive.)

Still, the point that Sirius was getting at was that his Professor wouldn't stop teasing him!

Then it suddenly occurred to Sirius that he had thrown off the Imperius curse. Twice.

Now, many would have provided speculation on how one Sirius Black would react in this moment of triumph; leaps in the air, lots of shouting, and numerous whoops of jubilation perhaps – not that they expected him to know the meaning of that word (unless said speculators were that of the fangirl variety) – but extreme celebration would definitely be present. Some might expect him to ensue on a pranking spree in order to spread the love, so to speak, or maybe to with tract completely from any such activity in his moment of success. Whatever scenarios would cross the minds of these people, one trait was always dominant: it would be loud.

And really, seriously, honestly? They wouldn't be that far off the mark – if they were speaking of James Potter. Sirius Orion Black on the other hand, would be much more reserved, suave even, with a dashing smirk and a few winks thrown in, swooping down to kiss the hands of a few fair- yeah, no. As much as he would delude himself to be, he was not that charming (though the fan club beg to differ). If he were to know how some of the student population perceived him to be, he wouldn't argue, though he would firmly point out that actually, he does know what jubilation means, because as much as he loves to goof off he was not an idiot. (Professor Jameson may or may not cough indiscreetly if this line of topic were to ever come up. Remus may or may not agree with him.) His effortless OWLs should prove that.

To recap, in this situation Sirius Black was expected to be just a tiny bit loud.

Sirius blinked. Once, twice. He blinked again. Kept blinking, and his forehead creased ever so slightly in a frown, because-

"Ow!"

Jameson rolled his eyes. "It was only a Stinging Hex Mr Black, do man up."

So naturally Sirius donned his favourite expression and scowled at his Professor. Jameson's lip twitched.

"Now then, as much as I love that constipated look on your face-" -a deeper scowl- "-I do have better things to do with my time. Firstly though, I believe a congratulations is in order," the Professor smiled mildly. Then, hesitating for a split moment, he withdrew a bottle from a drawer and allowed it to hover towards Sirius. "If anyone asks, you snuck into Hogsmeade."

Sirius stared at the bottle of Ogden's Olde Firewhiskey – very old if the stained label was anything to go by. The date was smudged illegible. "Professor-"

"Take it," Jameson gestured vaguely, "You've had a rough few weeks."

Sirius felt his lips dry slightly, but nodded, gently taking the bottle from where it hovered before him. He wasn't too sure what he should say – what he should do – now that he'd achieved his goal; now that he'd learnt to throw off an Unforgivable. What did he do now? He couldn't be controlled now, or at least if anyone tried he should be able to throw it off, and it's not like his parents could use him to spy on James anyway, not anymore. So, what use was this in the first place? What was the point at all?

So that your will is always your own you idiot. So that events like the Shrieking Shack never happened again.

A bitter smile crawled onto Sirius' face.

Don't pretend that wasn't of your own volition. Don't pretend you'd never contemplated the idea. Don't pretend you never thought of killing Severus Snape.

A junior Death Eater.

Because he had. Some nights, during lonely Summers, lying on sweat-stained floors after another dose of the Cruciatus, he had thought about it. Killing Snape, Cissy, Bella… any Dark Lord supporters, maybe even the bastard himself, just so it would all stop. The war, the deaths, the pain. And without any fanatical megalomaniac to follow, to support, without any Death Eaters to compare against, then maybe his parents would stop. Stop being disappointed in him when he sneers at the Dark Lord's 'accomplishments'; when he refuses to practice the Dark Arts against that hapless muggle in the street; when he decides he just doesn't want to live like this anymore and runs away, except he didn't and they actually sent him to spy on his best friend. When Regulus was sorted into Slytherin when he wasn't. When Regulus stuck up articles of the Dark Lord on his wall whilst he plastered his with anything muggle. When Regulus finally joins the Death Eaters and he-

Maybe if he killed the would-be Death Eaters, his little brother could finally choose a life for himself.

Except, none of that would ever happen. Ever.

"-r Black? Sirius? Siri-"

Sirius' gaze snapped from the bottle.

"Sirius – Mr Black – are you alright?" Professor Jameson asked. "You- spaced out."

If this were anyone else Sirius could imagine a hand gesturing helplessly. Instead the Professor just looked- concerned? There was something flickering through his eyes that seemed familiar but- "Yes, I'm fine, sorry sir," he vaguely heard himself say.

Jameson didn't reply.

"I- thank you Professor- for this- everything. Thank you," Sirius managed to say. "Thank you. G- goodnight Professor,"

He saw the Professor's eyebrows crease slightly; he looked liked he would have liked to say something. He didn't.

"Goodnight, Mr Black."

Harry watched Sirius drift out in a daze before collapsing in a chair, absentmindedly waving the door shut. He felt so tired, so weary. He'd recognised the look in Sirius' eyes – pain, suffering, regret – and could tell exactly what had been on his mind at that moment. His parents. His friends. His brother.

Sirius had sounded so very regretful the one time he'd mentioned Regulus, looking back on it now.

Harry knew what Sirius must have been thinking, and he couldn't blame him. After all, he'd had those sort of thoughts before as well. So he knew, that all the thoughts that were swirling through his godfather's head, that they came only because they were triggered by something, and he knew that the trigger could only have been the guilt from a ruined friendship.

Thing is, one might have expected Sirius to have long since recovered, to have bounced back, but Harry didn't, because he knew just what Sirius had lost that day – his anchor. Being hated, ostracized, by his own family, finding friends that accepted him for who he was, no questions asked, was like a gift from Heaven. They would have been the reason he kept fighting, the thing that kept him living, and to have lost that essentially meant he would have lost the reason to live. Therefore it was not much of a surprise to Harry that he'd been so secluded. However, he still desperately tried to help, and he'd seen the times when his godfather's eyes lit up during the lesson, when he laughed and responded to the light teasing, when he seemed to return to normal.

Just then, when he'd seen the pain and sense of hopelessness envelope Sirius, he'd been tempted to help, to try to comfort him. But he didn't.

Harry had been trying to distance himself – to make sure he did not get involved with whatever would be happening in this time. He'd realized that at first, at the very beginning, he had been so caught up in being back in the past, seeing – teaching – his parents, godfather, professor… traitor, that he'd allowed himself to- relax. The ways he acted…

He winced.

Nothing too obvious, too strangely out of the ordinary. But still, he was too emotional, too open – he became attached. And when he realized this he tried to distance himself, changing his approach slowly, adding quirks, moulding the personalities that would make Ethan Jameson. He'd done this slowly, gradually, and was relieved that no one had noticed how different he was from when he'd first entered the Great Hall to apply for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, strolling in with an entrance worthy of Alastor Moody – though he supposed that had been an imposter. If only there had been lightning.

In hindsight, his application was foolish. Not the application itself – he knew he had to save James Potter's life – but how he decided to do it. That duel was just showing off – there was no advantage to have gained from it. In fact, it might as well have drawn a huge target over his head, if any of the students thought it fit to report this to Voldemort. The chance would have been small – after all, who would have thought it necessary to comment about a new Professor, no matter how skilled they were? – but it was still there, the chance that Voldemort now knew of him and thought him to be a threat. Despite what he had told Professor Dumbledore, he still feared that any decision he made could ultimately affect the future.

In hindsight, there were so many things he should not have done. Unfortunately, as he learned the hard way, that was just life.

Everything he did now in the past should have already happened, no matter what conscious decision he makes, so it really shouldn't matter.

If Voldemort grew interested in a man by the name of Ethan Jameson, then so be it.

Past, present, future, they were likely all mapped out anyway.

He would only be staying one year. He'd already saved his father's life, so after this year he would leave, return to the future, and then what? Carry on with his life? Life as Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, killer of Voldemort, Destroyer of Darkness?

He didn't know, he doesn't know, he does-

Calm down. Calm down. He repeated to himself. Hermione.

Hermione knows everything.

"I owe her a call anyway," he muttered. "Just- just- stop thinking so much. Clear your mind, Potter," he hissed to himself, "Clear your mind."

"Now where's that blasted mirror."

On the way back to the Common Room, Sirius had been thinking. Thinking even more about, well, his life. There were so many things he would change if he could, that he would fix if he had the chance to, and that was just what led him to the realization that he could fix this. He may not be able to take back his past actions, but that didn't mean he couldn't damn well try to fix it.

There were many things in his (young) life that he regretted, but tonight, finally succeeding in countering the Imperius, showed him that he could change things. The fact that before, he had regretted and hated himself for being so weak that he'd allowed his parents to control him, but now he'd made it so they'd never be able to do so again. It showed him that he could change things, and he'd be damned if he didn't at least try.

He was done moping.

Right now, he was going to march up to James, or Remus, or even Peter, and he was going to attempt to make it up to them. Then tomorrow he was going to find his little brother and they were going to talk.

As Sirius stumbled through the Portrait Hole however, Firewhiskey grasped tight one hand, his determination wavered. Seeing his friends, sitting together and laughing, without him- they somehow seemed so much happier. Watching a scene like that, he was suddenly tempted to just leave and forget about it all. They're better off without me.

Before he had the chance to turn away though, Remus caught his eye, and froze. The others, noticing their friend's sudden stillness, followed his gaze. All eyes fell upon Sirius.

Following his previous thoughts, Sirius would have bolted away right then, if not for the absolutely tired look that fell across James Potter's face, one that he noticed was mimicked across the group. In that split second, he made up his mind and stalked forward, determination renewed.

He was done moping.