BLACKOUT

CHAPTER ONE – AWAKENING

Sirius's eyes snapped open.

Lifting his head, his gaze immediately went to the bedroom window. He grinned at the sight of the dreary grey sunlight just peeking through the gap in the heavy curtains. He threw the bedcovers off and looked over to the calendar on the wall. An elegant calligraphy number three appeared as if written by an invisible hand.

With childish joy, the young boy scrambled out of bed, ignored his slippers, and raced barefoot for the door. Throwing it open, Sirius almost careered headlong into Kreacher as the elf was about to knock on his door.

'Decorum, young master!' The elf chided his young charge as the pyjama-clad boy swerved precariously around him and tore off down the corridor. 'Mistress says you aren't to run about the halls!'

The child simply gave a dismissive laugh as he shot down the stairwell out of sight.

Perhaps it was simply the day's occasion that held the elf back from his usual trick of freezing his rambunctious charge in place. He permitted himself a rare, momentary smile of indulgence. Today was too special to upset the boy the moment he woke up after all.

Tomorrow on the other hand …

Likewise, on any other day, Sirius would have had a smart mouthed, cheeky retort for the loyal family servant, but today he was feeling quite charitable. It was, after all, today.

With a grin, he leapt down the last few steps, landing with a heavy thud before racing for the next set of stairs. The various portraits adoring the walls tutted and murmured as they were roused from their slumber by a young boy stampeding through the hallways; although there were a few tolerant smiles in his wake.

Everyone in the house had been anticipating this day for weeks.

As Sirius made his way down to the next floor, the delicious smell of fried bacon on the air caught his attention and his stomach growled in anticipation. He hurried to the private family breakfast parlour where he always ate with his parents.

He reached for the door, grasping the twisted silver serpent handle, and shoved it open wide.

Sirius caught a brief glimpse of his father and mother sat together at the table, as they turned their heads towards him. There was a moment of shared, bemused smiles as they watched their eldest child come speeding into the room …

Then everything went strangely still … a dark grey fog filled Sirius's vision and wiped the scene away …

Darkness.

Nothing but darkness.

Suddenly, all Sirius could feel was crushing pain in his head while the rest of his body felt as heavy as stone. He winced as he tried to open his eyes, lift his arms, anything. His body felt frozen in place. A whimper of agony escaped him but his eyes refused to open.

There were muffled sounds around him. Was someone nearby?

Panic started to rise in his chest. Why couldn't he open his eyes? Why couldn't he move? What had just happened?

A cool hand touched his forehead. There was a soft murmuring, so close he could feel someone's breath by his ear. The crushing pain began to recede, his body relax, and he slipped down into the peaceful oblivion of darkness.

Sirius's eyes snapped open.

Almost immediately, he screwed them shut against the glaring light. With a disgruntled groan, he rolled over, bedsheets rustling as he buried his face in the pillows. He let out a low moan of pain as his aching body protested against the motion, and he slumped down into the soft mattress. Merlin, his head was throbbing.

Sirius lay there for a few moments, groggy with the lingering dream, absently wondering what had happened that he could be feeling so rough. Something niggled at the edge of his mind.

It's my birthday … no, wait … I got up out of bed already … didn't I?

Feeling utterly discombobulated, Sirius wrenched open his eyes and, with some effort, lifted his aching head.

The first thing that was painfully apparent was that this was not his bedroom.

He was lying in a four-poster bed in a grandly decorated bedroom. Thick, heavy dark green curtains hung in the bay window, with matching cushions on the window seat. A sunny blue sky was visible through the window. There was dark mahogany furniture; a large wardrobe, a unit of drawers, and a dressing table with an ornate three-piece oval mirror was set against the wall with a plush cushioned matching chair. There were two dark wooden doors leading from the room – one closed, one ajar. The closed one must lead out to the hall because there was a glimpse of a bathroom through the other.

Sirius looked around at it all, utterly confused. He didn't recognise the room and yet it weirdly familiar at the same time.

It slowed dawned on Sirius that he must be in one of the guest rooms. The only rooms in the house with en-suites were his parents' bedroom and the guest rooms. But the colour scheme was all wrong. Neither room had looked like this the last time he'd snuck into them to hide. Had Mother really gone and redecorated again so soon? She'd only had them done a month or so ago, hadn't she? Obviously, she'd changed her mind again about the dusty rose palette it had taken her weeks to settle on.

'Barking,' Sirius croaked to himself, with a shake of his head. He quickly stopped as his head hurt too much, and paused, unsettled by how hoarse his voice sounded. He cautiously put a hand to his throat.

Was he ill? He certainly felt awful. Sore, disoriented. He slumped back onto the pillows.

Yes, that must be why he was in one of the guest rooms. Hadn't Mother put Reggie in one last year after he'd caught Wizard Flu? It saved her the trouble of traipsing up to the top floor every time she wanted to check up on him. With the convenience of the attached bathroom, it made sense to put a sickly child in here.

Now things were making sense. Sirius huffed a small sigh of relief. He'd clearly been taken ill, given how run down and fuzzy-headed he felt. In fact, now that he was paying attention, his left leg in particular felt very sore, like he'd fallen on it or something. Had he fainted and fallen down the stairs perhaps?

Suddenly, he remembered. A knot of disappointment twisted in his gut. He was sick on his birthday? He'd been looking forward to today for months! Father was going to take him to Diagon Alley on Saturday … would he be well enough by then?

Feeling quite despondent, Sirius looked over to the bedside table. There was a cut-glass jug of water and a small silver goblet arranged neatly on a silver tray. His heart sank a little as he noted there were no birthday cards. Although, maybe he hadn't yet had a chance to open any?

Sirius glanced about for a clock and was a little surprised to see there wasn't one anywhere. Even the light outside wasn't much of a guide, being winter it was usually pretty dull and gloomy no matter the time, so it was a bit strange (but pleasantly surprising) to see that the weather had vastly improved from earlier. The sky was pale blue and the sun was shining. He obviously hadn't missed the entire day.

Suddenly aware of how parched he felt, Sirius reached for the jug, which lifted into the air before he could grab it. It floated over the goblet and began to pour. Once the goblet was full, it settled back down. Sirius grabbed the goblet and took several eager gulps. The water was cold and fresh. Was that a hint of lemon he could taste? No sooner had he drained the goblet the jug was up again. Sirius held out the goblet for it to dutifully refill.

It was at that moment that Sirius noticed his hand. Or rather, the hand that was holding the goblet. He let out a startled yelp and the goblet fell onto the bed, spilling water onto the covers. The jug stopped pouring abruptly and wobbled back to its place on the tray.

Shaking, Sirius held his hand out in front of him. That wasn't his hand. Was it? It moved as if it were, but it looked all wrong … bigger? He held out his other hand. It was the same. The pyjamas he was wearing caught his eye for the first time. Silvery grey with dark blue stripes.

These aren't mine … I've never seen them before … what's wrong with my hands?

Panic mounting, Sirius's eyes went from the hands, to the sleeve, to registering how strangely long the arms were.

I am dreaming, he thought, screwing his eyes shut as his breathing sped up. I must be dreaming! I'm not awake. This isn't my body.

The sudden, deep lurch in his stomach strongly suggested otherwise.

Sirius threw the covers off and scrambled to get out of the bed, hurrying towards the bathroom, stumbling with legs that bizarrely felt too long. He felt too high up, as if he were on stilts but his bare feet were undeniably touching the floor.

Dizzy and discombobulated, he shoved open the door, threw himself in front of the toilet and heaved.

It felt like an age before Sirius finally lifted his head and flushed the toilet, the rancid smell of vomit continuing to linger. Kreacher would have to give this a good clean. Trying not to breathe too deeply, Sirius sat on the floor, half slumped against the toilet.

It was so surreal. His body didn't feel like it was his at all. It probably didn't help that he was shaking from a combination of sickly nerves and fear.

What's wrong with me?

Wobbling slightly, Sirius pulled himself up and quickly, before he could think about it too much, staggered in front of the floor length mirror that stood in the corner.

A frightened-looking young man looked back at him.

Sirius jumped back a step with a startled cry. The man in the mirror did the same. Breathing heavily, Sirius frowned, staring uncomprehendingly into the glass. Was that really his reflection? Or was it a trick mirror?

A trick.

Something of an idea came to him in that moment. Tentatively, he raised a hand and waved.

The man in the mirror waved back.

For a few moments, Sirius stared, then let out a barking laugh.

A trick! It had to be. It was all feeling too real to be a dream, of that Sirius was more certain of now. No doubt his little brother had finally gotten fed up of hearing Sirius talk of nothing else but turning a year older for months on end that he'd managed to pull this off.

Very clever, Sirius's reflection grinned and nodded in begrudging approval.

Kudos to Reggie – what a good prank. Just how had he done it? An aging potion seemed a good bet. Sirius was too fuzzy headed to consider all the possible options, but maybe that was why he felt so ill – too high a dose of a potion? An allergic reaction maybe? Perhaps Reggie had been gutsy enough to 'borrow' a wand and try casting a spell? Whatever he'd done, it had clearly put his older brother to bed unconscious. Their parents were likely furious with him. Probably even punishing him right now.

Satisfied with his deductions, Sirius felt himself calm considerably. He'd have to plot his revenge of course for missing a good chunk of his birthday.

Feeling woozy still, Sirius decided it was probably best if he headed back to bed. No doubt his mother or Kreacher would drop in before too long to check on him. Slowly, he made his way back into the bedroom.

Sirius was just entertaining the idea of somehow turning Reggie back into a baby on his birthday when the bedroom door opened.

Sirius froze, as did the person who now stood on the threshold.

It wasn't his mother or Kreacher.

It was a young man, in his late teens by the look of it. Fairly tall, slender build with jet black hair just like his own, and a strangely familiar face He appeared to be caught by surprise and was looking at him with (what was that expression?) cautious relief.

Sirius's immediate but befuddled thought was that this had to be a cousin of some sort that he didn't quite recognise – he looked a lot like … but he couldn't be …

'Regulus?' he said, extremely hesitantly. Was he wrong, was he still dreaming? Or flat out hallucinating now?

The young man looked enormously relieved.

'Oh, thank Merlin,' he sighed, in a voice that sounded too deep to be his little nine year old brother. 'How are you feeling, Sirius?'

The stranger (was it really Regulus?) took a step forward and Sirius automatically took a skittish step back. They both stopped, the stranger looking confused by Sirius eyeing him with suspicion.

'Sirius? Are you ok?'

Sirius's eyes were darting around the room like a wild animal looking for an escape route.

The other person sighed, as if he was being silly.

'Of course you're not ok,' he said. 'Sorry, I didn't think.'

Sirius took another small step back.

'Who are you?' he croaked.

The other man's face fell, his mouth hung slightly open as his eyes widened.

'Do … do you not recognise me?' he asked. He sounded almost upset.

Sirius looked into his face again. None of this was making any sense again.

'Reggie?' he asked, knowing how utterly uncertain he sounded.

'Yes, yes it's me,' said Regulus, taking a small step towards him, like you would towards a wild animal you didn't want to startle. He offered a reassuring smile. 'How do you feel?'

'Like I've taken a Bludger to the head – what's going on?' Sounding more panicked, Sirius looked at his brother with a fresh wave of confusion. 'What did you do? Spike my breakfast with Aging Potion or something?'

Regulus held up his hands as if in surrender.

'Sirius, it's ok! Just calm down … you've had a bit of an accident.'

'Define 'a bit' of an accident,' he growled. His head was pounding anew, and he was feeling sick trying to make sense of things. He ran a hand over the back of his head. He didn't feel any lumps so presumably he hadn't hit his head … which might have explained a lot … except …

'Why do you even look like that? Did you take a potion as well? I mean … kudos for effort Reg, very elaborate prank. You had me going for a minute!' His voice was rising slightly hysterically. 'But you know Mother is going to have a fit when she finds out you've helped yourself to her potion cabinet.'

Something changed in Regulus's face. His eyes were suddenly clouded. He didn't speak for several long moments.

'Sirius,' again with the cautious talking-to-a-tiger voice, 'what's the last thing you remember?'

'I …' his brow furrowed. 'I don't remember getting hurt,' he said, slowly. He tried to concentrate – what did he remember?

A wave of pain shot through Sirius's head. He put his head in his hands, hissing from the vice-like sensation. Regulus was suddenly at his side, an arm around him to steady him.

Trying hard not to throw up again, Sirius tried again. 'I remember … having breakfast? I was in the parlour with Mother and Father … I think you were there too but I'm not sure.' He trailed off at the ashen look on his brother's face.

'We haven't all had breakfast together since we were kids, Sirius, are you sure?'

Sirius bristled.

'Of course I'm sure! And what do you mean 'since we were kids'? We are kids!'

This angry proclamation was met with a strange silence and an unsettling expression. Regulus's eyes had widened. He hesitated, seemingly having a silent argument with himself before tentatively venturing a question.

'Sirius … h-how old are you?'

Sirius scoffed. What a stupid question. Had he not been waiting for today for forever? He hadn't shut up about it since September.

'It's my birthday, Reg,' he said slowly, over-pronouncing the words as if he were talking to someone quite lacking in intelligence. 'I'm eleven.'

Something in Regulus's dumbfounded expression gave Sirius a horrible sense of displacement.

He was starting to hope he was just having a very, very vivid bad dream.

It was at that moment he noticed what Regulus was holding.

'Where did you get that?' he demanded, more angrily than he meant to sound.

Regulus looked down at the wand in his hand, then back at Sirius.

'It's just my wand.'

'You're not old enough to have a wand. I haven't even got mine yet!'

'Sirius, I need you to calm down,' said Regulus, instinctively raising the wand between them.

'Father is going to take me to Diagon Alley on Saturday,' Sirius said, more insistently, missing his brother's flinch. He looked pained and a feeling of smugness came over Sirius. 'Where is Father? He'll take that off you. Did you swipe it out of his study?'

Sirius very rarely threatened to snitch on Reggie, but the extent of this prank was getting a bit out of hand in his opinion. Little Reggie drugging him and stealing a wand? That wasn't like him at all.

Regulus gaped him, lost for words, and Sirius took the opportunity to snatch the contraband wand out of his hand.

'Hey!' he cried indignantly, though he made no move to grab it back.

'Whose is this?' Sirius grumbled, turned it over in his hands.

He didn't recognise it, not at all. Father had let him look over the old family wands in his study just a week ago, with strict instructions not to touch them. He'd spent all afternoon practically drooling over them, fantasising about the moment he would get his own wand for his birthday. This didn't look remotely like any of them. It certainly wasn't as old or worn …

'Sirius.'

The tone was oddly grave and Sirius looked back up at his brother. Regulus took a steadying breath.

'You aren't eleven,' he said, firmly but gently, maintaining eye contact. 'It's not your birthday. You're twenty years old.'

Sirius blinked, then let out a derisive snort.

'Joke's wearing a bit thin, Reggie.'

'It's not a joke.' Regulus gestured to the mirrors on the dressing table. 'Have you not seen yourself?'

'Trick mirrors,' said Sirius, with rapidly waning confidence. Twenty years old? That was ridiculous. How was that even possible? That would mean that Reggie was nineteen. He looked over his brother again. Ok, maybe he looked about that age, still stupidly baby-faced of course. 'It's all just a stupid prank.'

'I know it's obviously a bit of a shock right now, but it's true. Like I said, you've had an accident and you clearly don't remember what happened.'

An angry scowl flashed across Sirius's face. He shook his still aching head as if to shake off a fly. Reg was lying. He had to be. Sirius knew just how he could prove it.

Raising his chin defiantly, Sirius called out, 'Kreacher!'

The house-elf dutifully cracked into existence between the two brothers.

Adamant in his belief that the elf wouldn't lie to him as the heir to the House, Sirius was shaken to his core to see how different the elf looked to how he'd seen him just that morning.

The elf looked old. More wrinkled, more ear hair, slightly more stooped. The elf was gazing up at Sirius, eyes wide in wonderment. Kreacher looked to Regulus, questioningly. Regulus nodded after a moment, grimly. Kreacher turned back to Sirius and gave a slightly hesitant bow.

Frozen, Sirius stared, mouth slightly agape. Then, screwing up his courage, asked a perfectly simple question.

'Kreacher, what's today's date?'

He threw a smug look at Reg. This would prove his silly little brother wrong.

The elf's ears flicked, puzzled.

'It is Tuesday 19th August, master.'

Sirius blinked.

August? Well, that was completely wrong. It was November.

'What year?' He asked, more forcibly. It was a stupid question, surely …

'1980, master.'

Something very cold gripped Sirius' mind and gut.

The elf wasn't lying … he couldn't … but …

'Kreacher – I order you to tell me the truth! What is today's date?' He hadn't meant to shout but he had to command the elf … to get at the truth.

'Tuesday 19th August 1980, master,' repeated the elf, looking at Sirius as if he were the one who sounded crazy.

'No … it's November 3rd … it's my birthday … it's not the eighties … that's just ridiculous! It's 1970 …'

The room seemed to tilt, the floor falling away from him. Abruptly, Regulus stepped forward and pulled Sirius into a tight hug. Tears stung Sirius's eyes as he instinctively hugged his little brother back.

1980 … 1980 … 1980 … was he really ten years into the future? How had this happened?

His legs gave way and the two wizards half fell, half sat down heavily onto the floor. Kreacher shuffled closer, eyes full of concern, at a loss for what to do and looking expectantly at Regulus for guidance. The brothers sat on the floor together for what felt like a long time before Regulus final spoke.

'Sirius,' he said softly, gently. 'It's true. It's 1980.' Sirius's shoulders shook. 'You are suffering from some memory loss, but I don't want you to worry!' he added, reassuringly. 'You're home. You're safe here. And I'm sure your memory will come back. I know it must be really scary for you right now, but I need to you understand that it's all ok – you are safe.'

'Where's mother and father?' Sirius mumbled the shaky question into Reg's increasingly soggy shoulder. He really wanted nothing else right now but for them to hug him and make everything right again.

The sudden tension that Sirius felt in Reg's shoulders seemed to trigger time slowing down … as if he knew in his heart the terrible truth before his brother even spoke, his gut twisting as the words sounding as if they were miles away down a tunnel.

'Mother and father … I'm so sorry, Sirius … they passed away … a few years ago.'

Something broke in Sirius's mind – his heart felt as though it had stopped with a painful jolt. He let out a terrible howl of misery and denial, and the tears wouldn't stop coming. Clutching his brother harder, Sirius slumped against him, shaking uncontrollably.

Regulus held on, speaking in a soothing tone though Sirius could not register a word through his sobs. Rubbing his back in a soothing manner just like their mother used to do when they were ill, Regulus sat there with him for some time until Sirius was cried out and hiccoughing in exhaustion, worn out from the outpouring of emotion. When Sirius finally lifted his head, eyes red and puffy, he saw that Reg's eyes were also shining with tears.

Sirius felt so disconnected to reality that he didn't register the wand tip now pointed at his face.

'I'm sorry, Sirius, but I think this is for the best.'

Sirius didn't even hear the words of the unfamiliar spell.

The last thing he did hear was his brother's reassuring voice. 'Don't worry about a thing, ok?' Regulus's face blurred as Sirius closed his eyes, collapsing into his brother's arms and falling into the peaceful darkness once more.

'You're home.'

Authors Note

My apologies - an earlier version of this chapter gave the wrong date and Sirius's age was also incorrect as a result. It has now been corrected.

It's been years since I last published anything so I hope this doesn't seem too 'rusty'.

I have been inspired to write again largely thanks to reading the incredible works of Ieyre (specifically In The Black, and Black Mask) Seriously, go read them. If you love Sirius fics, I can not recommend them enough.

As for my own work, constructive comments and criticisms are appreciated. Encouraging words are always gratefully received.