To teamfred, for cheering me up when I very badly needed it. You're right- if JK had given up after the idea for Harry Potter was rejected the first 20 times (it was rejected, I think I read, 23 times total from different editors,) then we wouldn't have the wonderful world of Hogwarts that she created. Anyways, thanks for the pick-me-up. You're right, it's not for the reviews, it's because I like writing. And it helped. Also, to anyone who actually bothered to come back and continue reading this after such a long pause between updates. Please bare with me, as I am going to be on a separate continent in 2 weeks, doing study abroad in Europe, when I am, in fact, American. It's a rather interesting prospect, one that may make updating difficult. I hope this satisfies any need for the moment. Merry almost-Christmas.
By now, Sirius knew there was something more than a little different about Harry. It wasn't that he looked all that different—he and James looked so similar that it was eerie. He didn't really talk all that different, although sometimes he let a few words slip that Sirius had never heard before. He didn't dress different, or eat different. And most of the time, he didn't act different.
But when he did, Harry didn't just act a little different. He acted like a completely different person.
Like he was just then. His eyes had changed from their usual bright, shining green to a dull, dark, brooding color. He looked older, more weary somehow—like he'd had a few too many bad things happen recently.
It was times like this that Sirius hated to approach him. He knew how much Harry valued his privacy and his quiet time, how little he liked to be disturbed when he was busy thinking. It hadn't taken the Marauders long to figure out when to leave their new roommate and friend alone, and most of the time, they stuck to that.
But that protective feeling Sirius had towards Harry was too strong to allow Sirius to walk away. Harry looked like he was too upset to be left alone.
"Hey mate." Sirius noted with interest how Harry jumped about a foot in the air at his voice. Sirius noted with even greater interest how Harry's hand jumped straight to his wand, immediately ready to fire.
"Galleon for your thoughts?" He offered hesitantly, trying to dim his curiosity.
Harry scowled, a dark look that Sirius wasn't used to seeing on either Harry's or James' face. "I'm not sure they're even worth a sickle," Harry answered, his eyes turning from Sirius's face to scan the grounds below. Sirius curled up gracefully next to Harry on the window ledge, shifting a little to get comfortable, and said,
"Try me."
At first, Sirius was worried that Harry wasn't going to take him up on that offer. It was rare that Harry spoke about himself or his past at all, and for the most part, the Marauders had given up asking him about it.
This time, though, Harry only paused for a few moments before surprisingly saying, "okay."
"I made a mistake," Harry started, aware that his voice was catching, aware of the irony that he was confessing this to the very man his mistake had killed. "You know that friend I said that just died? I made a mistake, a very big one, and found out more than I really wanted to know."
"I've made some pretty big mistakes too, you know," Sirius offered, making Harry smile. Harry turned to see an unusually sad expression on Sirius' face.
"I'm sure you have, but this one—"
"No, I mean, some really big mistakes," Sirius choked out, remembering the look of horror and disgust on James's face when he had realized where Sirius had sent Snape.
Harry looked curious, and immediately Sirius wished he hadn't brought it up. He hadn't discussed his betrayal of Remus with anyone after the Marauders had forgiven him, including the Marauders. It wasn't one of the proudest moments of his life, and he never really thought he'd want to relive it.
Surprisingly, though, Harry didn't ask him to relive it. As curious as he seemed, Harry also seemed to understand that Sirius had secrets to keep as well. Instead, Harry asked him, "Would you undo it, if you could?"
Sirius started, blinking at the unusual turn the conversation had taken. "Well, I mean, you can't."
Harry stared at Sirius as though he were stupid. "Sure you can. We're wizards! We can solve just about any problem with magic." Harry was aware, violently aware, of just how not-true that was, but Sirius didn't need to know that.
"Nope, I refuse to believe you can go back and change things," Sirius answered resolutely, his eyes still focused out on the grounds. "Not even little things, not even with magic. Think about it; if we hadn't happened to have decided to go outside that night, or hadn't decided to stay out past curfew, we may have never met you. If you hadn't decided to become close to us, you never would've found out about Remus. If Lily hadn't decided to become your friend, she and James may have never gotten along."
"So, what if you could go back and do things differently?" Harry asked him, turning from the gloomy image outside to see the two students who would eventually become his parents sharing a study table. James and Lily had been spending an increasing amount of time together since the first successful date to Hogsmeade, something that all of the Marauders seemed to be happy about.
If he could just warn them, or tell Dumbledore. He could teach them better spells to defend themselves, or tell Sirius alone what he had been through. He could warn Remus, even, and then let fate decide what to do.
Sirius's voice dragged him back into the conversation. "Nope, even if you did things different, they'd still end up the same way," He said resolutely, following Harry's line of sight to the new almost-couple seated at the table. Confused, he asked, "Why? You mad that you set James up with Lily, instead of asking her out yourself?"
He was relieved when Harry laughed, clearly humored by the question. "Absolutely not," he said, watching the couple trade glances at each other in between turning the pages of books. "In fact, I think getting them together has probably been one of the best accomplishments I've ever made in my life."
Sirius snorted, his bark-like laugh causing several people in the common room to glance to where they were seated in the window. "Yeah, it sure lightened my headache. James doesn't moan and groan about how he can't have her anymore—instead he continuously talks about how perfect she is."
Harry laughed, but didn't argue. Every once in a while his father managed to gross even him out.
The conversation ended there, but Harry was left thinking about what Sirius said for the rest of the night. What if Sirius was right?
There were too many variables, too many maybes. He needed Hermione or Ginny here to sit with him, work through the problem, and set it straight. He needed Ron to laugh with him and take his mind off it, needed to know that somebody else, if only just one other person, was aware of everything that he was.
Worse, he needed to go home. He just had no idea how.
AN: I really will try to post more reasonably, guys. I'm just going through a lot right now, as pathetic as it sounds, and don't have a large amount of time to devote to fanfiction writing. I'm too busy with work, college, and papers to go study abroad… But there's a few weeks left of my winter break, so I'll try. I'm sorry it took so long.