I apologize to my readers for my long absence/hiatus. Holidays always seem to get the best of me. Happy Christmas to those who celebrate it, by the way. I'm hoping to get back on my regular, once a week schedule, but who knows what's gonna happen. Especially late January. Not only is that finals for my strange school, but there's the Barkley Forum to worry about. If anyone knows what that last thing is, you're awesome. Anyway, I'm back, so enjoy!

It was the first Monday of the school year, and Sirius' first class of the day was fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins.

Fifth year Slytherins.

Regulus.

Sirius was dreading this day, much more so than his first few.

He had survived the weekend of death stares and smug looks from the faces of Padfoot and James, the welcoming smile of Remus, and the curious looks that Lily Evans was sending his way. He had even tolerated the presence of Peter Pettigrew in the hallways, for which he had given himself a nice pat on the back for actually exhibiting some self-control. How long that would last, well, he would see.

To calm his nerves about the day ahead, he had gone to visit Olive the night before. He couldn't talk to Dumbledore about his situation, because he didn't think he could take the old man's pitying smiles and nauseous suggestion that he try to "mend the ties." Of course he wanted to stop his brother from being an idiot and putting himself in so much danger, but he knew Regulus wouldn't listen. He had always been nonchalant talking about Regulus, but for everything that he eventually turned out to be, he was still Sirius' younger brother. A brother he, for a very long time before Hogwarts, had strived to protect.

Sitting on the bathroom floor, he retold the story of how he, though an outcast, was treated as the heir of his family before the age of eleven. That because of his parent's wishes, he wasn't exactly loved, but when it came down to it, they felt his little "rebellion" was just a phase. How they would smack him for speaking out, but would still try to make him a gentleman. How he and his brother were close, in order to escape their mother's wrath.

Then, when he went to Hogwarts and ended up in Gryffindor, his home life changed for good. They completely gave up on him and turned to Regulus, the now soon to be heir. For two years, Sirius was helpless as his crazed, pureblood family even further corrupted his little brother. Needless to say, the Regulus that came to Hogwarts two years later was not the same brother that he longed to care for. And that hurt more than anything else his parents could do to him.

Sirius was indeed conflicted to how he was going to treat this future Death Eater.

Olive listened, a contemplative look on her face. Blowing that unmoving stray hair, she responded after a minute of silence with, "Well, you have to change him."

Sirius was a bit surprised at her answer, but scowled and retorted, "It's not that easy."

The pale, silvery girl laughed her girlish laugh, and attempted throwing her pale blond hair over her shoulder. She failed, and sighed, looking much older than her obvious Hogwarts age. "Listen Sirius," she said after looking around the musty room a bit, "you don't seem to understand something important. Death is the worst part of life. Literally, the worst. From what I understand, your brother didn't come back as a ghost, right?"

Sirius shook his head. He assumed that if his brother were to come back, he would have haunted Grimmauld Place.

Olive nodded her head. "Right, good for him. But either way, it's still not pleasant, especially so young. For Merlin's sake, your brother died at nineteen! That's only two years younger than your precious Lily and James! Are you honestly thinking of not preventing his death?"

Sirius was growing bitter at her presumptuousness. He stood up and began pacing across the floor of the girl's bathroom, the tiles growing more and more dusty with each step in any direction. He went to the sink, looking at his reflection. He had grown more healthy, even though he had only been at Hogwarts a few weeks. Not living at the cramped and unpleasant Grimmauld Place had done wonders for his complexion. He was definitely not as pale, the bags under his eyes began to dissipate, and even his teeth appeared a bit whiter. However, nothing could change how he felt on the inside, and he hated that.

"Olive," he said, turning back to face the girl, who had her silvery arms crossed over her chest. She looked at him and nodded her head to urge him to go on. "Like I said, it's not that simple. That kid is a complete Voldemort lover. He would anything that monster asks of him, even at this age."

Olive rolled her eyes, like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "Then make him see that you're on his side, Sirius."

Sirius snorted. "Yeah, like he'll listen to me."

"Ugh!" Olive yelled, standing up to float right over to Sirius, coming face to face with him. He silvery eyes were both creepy and interesting, and Sirius was mesmerized as she yelled at him, "Not you, dogbrain. Harry Grim."

She began floating a bit away from him, never losing his gaze as she said, "You told me that he was interested in you at the Welcoming Feast, right? He sees you, like your younger self does, as a ringer for a member of the Black family. Because of that, he subconsciously trusts you, even just a little."

Sirius saw her point; he had been thinking along similar lines after he noticed Regulus' reaction to him. But he argued back what he had wondered about later on. "I get that, but he doesn't trust this Sirius, his own brother. Why would he trust a complete stranger?"

Olive smiled, pointing a finger towards Sirius' newly cloaked chest, "That is the beauty of it, my friend. He knows Sirius, and probably suspects that his brother is stupid and acting out. I mean, you hated your parents, so that would be your suspected goal. However, he doesn't know this Harry Grim, who's an adult. If you gain his trust in this form, by acting regal and putting that gentleman training to use, he'll trust you as a fellow aristocrat."

Sirius considered what she was saying, but saw one flaw in her plan. Sitting back down with his head drooped, he confessed, "So, that means I'll have to become the very kind of person I hate, is that right?"

Olive must have seen where he was going with this line of thinking, so she sat next to him, forcing him to look up at her. "I know where you're going, and no you don't have to start becoming Voldemort's biggest fan. That isn't really the point, right? You're supposed to deter the boy from choosing that path, so that wouldn't do. No, what you need to do is basically kiss his ass. Complement him, talk down on Sirius, act superior. But don't put down muggles and muggleborns, or support Voldemort. You need to get him to like you, that's all. Then start convincing him away from the Death Eaters. Understand?"

He did. He understood completely. He didn't know if he could do it, but he was sure as hell going to try.

And so it was that, on that first Monday of the school year, he was waiting anxiously for one of the most important days of his life. He would determine whether or not it was possible to deter Regulus away from the Death Eaters. He sat at his desk, wearing his nicest robes, and twitching his leg up and down. His face was rugged and unshaven; he didn't think he would have been able to hold a razor that morning without cutting himself.

The first of the students began walking in, obviously a bit wary of his presence. They had probably heard the rumors about him from the other fifth years that he had taught on the first day. He smirked as he thought of the reactions of that smug little Barty Crouch after their little confrontation, but shook his head in order to get himself to focus.

Gazing at the room he had been relegated to teaching in, he noticed that it was becoming a bit messy. Wondering why the house elves weren't cleaning his room properly, he almost missed Regulus' entrance into the room.

He walked in with a group of other Slytherins, but unlike his friends, he seemed extremely introverted as he took his seat. The other four boys were laughing amongst themselves, tipping backwards in their creaky, old chairs. They all had that aristocratic look to them; well fed and rat faced, but Sirius was more concerned with Regulus. He tried not to stare, but he couldn't help himself. His eyes had followed the poor boy the moment he walked into the room.

For a pureblood, Regulus was looking even more pale than usual. His gray eyes darted back and forth around the room, and he kept rubbing his clammy hands together. He looked small in his seat, and his long fingers were perhaps abnormally large comparatively. Even his hair appeared to be quite unkempt, reminding Sirius of a better-dressed Severus Snape. It was strange that Sirius felt himself growing a bit calmer, knowing that Regulus was just as nervous as he was. It helped him to understand how he was going to handle this class.

The last student wandered in, and with that, Sirius knew that it was time for class to start. Clearing his throat, he gathered the attention of his class quite well. Even Regulus looked his way, but then he looked right back at his lap just as quickly. Sirius sighed, knowing that no matter what Olive thought of the situation, this was going to be a long and strenuous process indeed.

He stood up, and with all but one student's eyes on him, he began his class.

"Good morning. As you all probably know, my name is Professor Harry Grim." Sirius started, noting that the name Harry Grim was becoming easier and easier to say. That in and of itself just went to show how comfortable he was becoming in this place, and that scared him just a tad. "I'm the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and as such, if you have any questions about my qualifications, just know to ask away."

He thought it best to start off this class a bit differently, in order to become more comfortable with these students. Or, in his mind, more comfortable with Regulus.

A few hands went up, and so Sirius picked the ones that he knew wouldn't try to trick him, and as prejudice as that sounded, he knew it would be best to start off with a few Gryffindors. He called on a Gryffindor boy from the front row who he thought he recognized. The boy seemed laid back and had hair long enough to rival the teenaged Sirius Black. He smirked, knowing he was the first to be called on, and asked, "What House were you in, Professor? That determines a lot around here, you know."

Sirius should have expected this question, and he was thankfully prepared with an answer. "And, your name is…"

"Gawain Robards. And, your answer?" The boy said snottily.

Merlin, another auror, Sirius thought to himself. He knew this one; he had risen high in the ranks by kissing the ass of that damned Rufus Scrimgeour, head of the Auror office. Sirius had had to hear complaints about this know-it-all from Tonks, and so he was wary of the boy's motives. He sighed. This was indeed going to be a long year.

"I did not attend Hogwarts. My father was British and my mother was from Russia. I went to live with her for some time to experience a different culture and ended up attending Koldovstoretz. Fantastic school, but after what I've seen here, I believe Hogwarts may have it beat."

The boy nodded, though he looked wary of being taught by an apparent foreigner. The girl next to him raised her hand, and asked, "Professor, if you grew up in Russia, why is it that you don't have an accent?"

Sirius had an immediate response. "I grew up here, actually, and I was in Russia for my schooling years. Once I was finished with my education, I moved back here to find work."

He endured a few more basic questions from the Gryffindors, and decided that it was time to deal with the Slytherins. He knew what the first question was going to be, but braced himself for it anyway. He called on a familiar boy, one of his brother's friends. Darius Gibbon. Another future Death Eater.

"What are you, professor? Pureblood, halfblood, or mud-excuse me, muggleborn?" Gibbon asked, his vicious curiosity evident. He was probably already aware that he wasn't a pureblood, seeing as Grim isn't exactly an old, aristocratic name. Sirius knew his answer to this question; he had fabricated this particular lie in order to ensure his relationship with Regulus might actually happen.

"That is, in some respects, a rude and pointless question, don't you think Mr. Gibbon?" Sirius asked hotly. Gibbon gaped in surprise, looking at his friends for some vindication. This also seemed to finally garner the attention of Regulus, though. "If you must know, I am a halfblood who comes from a well known Russian family on my mother's side. My father was a muggle, and though I loved him dearly, I always related better with my mother. I don't discriminate, and I suggest that you should not either. I was raised to be a gentleman, not a savage who doesn't tolerate those around me as you seem to be."

For the second time, he seemed to have shocked his class into silence. Way to lay low, Sirius thought to himself. He looked to Regulus, and found the boy looking at him with something akin to… respect? Sirius felt overjoyed; he was somehow off to a good start with Regulus.

"Right." He continued on "Any more questions?"

The class had ended, and as students began to filter out, Sirius stopped the young Regulus. The boy still seemed nervous in his presence, but his eyes were a little more focused than they were before. His hands also seemed less clammy.

"I'm sorry for bothering you, but I didn't catch your name." Sirius said gently, hoping he wasn't scaring Regulus, but it was the perfect reason for stopping him. Regulus hadn't raised his hand once.

"It's Regulus. Regulus Black, sir." Regulus mumbled, not looking Sirius in the eye.

Sirius held out his hand, to the surprise of Regulus. "I hope to see you participate more in the future, Mr. Black. The quiet ones are typically the ones with the best ideas, this something learned from experience." An image of Remus passed through his head.

He saw something like a smile appear on Regulus' face. "Of course, sir." Regulus took his hand, shook it once, and he walked out with his friends, looking more like he usually did.

Sirius walked back to his desk and sat in his seat, leaning back as he used to in his youth and blowing his bangs away from his forehead. Humming to himself, he could feel just how tired he was. His eyes felt heavy as he wondered about his brother. He was curious about Regulus' abrupt change. He wondered-

"Wondering what changed about him, eh Sirius?" A voice said from behind him.

Sirius fell backwards in his seat, swiveling to uncover the source of the voice. He gaped at the person who spoke-or rather, the being who spoke.

Standing behind him was a ghostly figure who still retained some semblance of color. His hair was sticking up in all directions, as it usually did, and his glasses remained forever askew on his face. He looked exactly the same as Sirius remembered, and his concerned face only brought about more confusion. Messing up his hair with his right hand, the ghost began, "Listen, I don't have much time, but there's some stuff you need to know if you want to-"

"James." Sirius whispered, his friend startling a bit at the sound of his raspy voice. "What's going on? How the hell are you, what, I just," Sirius was having trouble keeping control of his emotions. He put his palms in front of his eyes, trying to wake himself up from this obvious dream.

"Stop!" James shouted. Sirius jumped a bit, looking back up at his friend. James the ghost had wide eyes and was looking at him in concern. "You're right, you're dreaming, but it's the only way I can talk to you. Passing through that veil made you come closer to death than you realize. It was seriously a miracle that you were able to come out of it alive, but coming that close to death has some consequences, and so you're just going to have to deal with them."

Sirius smiled crookedly. "I'm guessing one of those consequences is seeing you in all of your dead glory."

James looked at him curiously, his hazel eyes pale in death. And then he chuckled, "Hey, I might be dead, but at least I died with dignity. You were almost killed by some curtains, Padfoot."

Sirius began laughing as well, and eventually the dream room was filled with laughter; the laughter of a dead man and one who had come close to it. Sirius wiped his eyes from the tears that began, tears of laughter and tears of sorrow. "So, you needed to urgently discuss something with me, Prongs? It can't get any weirder than this, can it? Being in the past, I mean. Are you at least able to tell me why I'm here, and why you were the person sent to talk to me?"

James smiled, and sat down in front of his lost friend. "All in good time. We have more important things to discuss. Namely, how in the world you're going to prevent me from kicking it this time around."

I love the Harry Potter Wiki, I really do. So many obscure people and facts on that thing. I love OC's as much as the next guy, but giving personalities to names created by the queen is almost more fun.

Thanks for reading!

~M