Sirius Black floated in the vast emptiness, a strange sensation of weightlessness pulling him further into the void. He couldn't feel his body, nor the burn of his last moments—the duel with Bellatrix, the last battle that had ended so abruptly. There was no pain, no fear. Only silence. Only stillness.

It was a peculiar kind of peace, the kind that comes when everything else fades away. The war, the weight of his past, the scars of betrayal and loss—all of it seemed distant, inconsequential. Even the absence of his body felt natural, as if it had never existed at all.

And yet, something lingered—a presence. Familiar, comforting, yet distant. His heart—if he even still had one—twisted slightly as a figure emerged from the quiet.

"Ah, Sirius," came the soft voice of Albus Dumbledore, his gentle eyes filled with knowing, with peace. "I thought it might be you."

Sirius blinked, though there was no real light, no defined space—just endless, formless nothing. Yet Dumbledore stood sharp and steady before him.

"You have a choice," Dumbledore said, his voice calm, as if time and death had never separated them. "You can move on. Find the peace that awaits. Or... you can return. There is one decision you regret most. Do you remember it?"

The question echoed through Sirius's mind, stirring memories he had long buried. James. Lily. That night. The Fidelius Charm. The moment they had chosen Peter as Secret Keeper, when he had felt something was wrong but said nothing.

His chest tightened. A wound, fresh despite the years.

Peter.

They had trusted him, and look where it had led—betrayal, death, everything falling apart. He hadn't fought for Remus. Hadn't fought for his friends. He had trusted the wrong person, and doubted the wrong one. Let them make that choice. And now they were gone. Because of him.

Dumbledore's voice pulled him back. "You have the chance to go back, Sirius. To that very moment. Before the charm is cast. To make a different choice. Will you take it?"

Sirius's heart pounded—or was it just his mind racing? He didn't know. But there was no hesitation.

"Yes," he breathed.

And the stillness shifted. The weight of regret pulled at him, but now there was something else. A chance. A chance to make it right.

As Dumbledore's figure faded, Sirius felt the tug at his very soul, pulling him back. Not to the cold emptiness of death, but to the moment before everything had gone wrong.

The moment before the Fidelius Charm was cast.

Sirius stood in the familiar warmth of the Potters' home, his mind spinning. It had worked. He had returned. But something was off. The weight of it settled on him quickly, a nagging question clawing at the back of his mind.

Peter wasn't here.

His thoughts scrambled. This wasn't right. Peter was supposed to be here—he was the Secret Keeper. But now? No sign of him. No sign of the traitor.

His heart hammered. This was his chance. He wasn't going to let it slip away. The fear, the doubt—they lifted, replaced with determination. He was going to make a different choice. He had to.

"Where's Peter?" Sirius asked, his voice strained. His eyes darted around the room, searching.

James frowned. "Peter? Padfoot, are you sure you're okay? You were, uh... out of it last night, weren't you?"

Irritation flickered in Sirius. No. This wasn't right. Peter was supposed to be the traitor. This was the moment he had come back to change. He had to stop it. He had to make sure they stayed safe. But... where was Peter?

"Yeah, must've had too much to drink," Sirius muttered, trying to brush it off. His gut twisted. No. That wasn't it. He knew Peter was the traitor. He had to be. Yet he wasn't here.

James went on, oblivious to Sirius's rising anxiety. "Mate, you're right—we all felt off last night. We didn't know what to think, but Dumbledore was sure of it—Peter's the one who's been giving them information."

Sirius's stomach dropped. Peter was the traitor. That hadn't changed. But where was he? Why wasn't he standing here, facing them, exposed? This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Why wasn't Peter here?

"Wait, wait." Sirius took a step forward, steadying himself. "You mean... Peter's been working with them?" The confusion bled into his voice as he glanced between James, Remus, and Lily, searching for something—anything—that made sense.

Wait, Remus wasn't here last time.

Lily frowned. "Yes, Sirius. Dumbledore found the Mark on his arm weeks ago. He confirmed the rest. You got his message last night too, right? Peter's the traitor we've been looking for."

Sirius's pulse raced. He knew that, but something was wrong. "But—where is he? Why isn't he here?" The words escaped before he could stop them. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He had come back to stop the Secret Keeper switch. He had come back to prevent the betrayal. Yet here they were, having this conversation, and Peter was missing.

Remus, sensing Sirius's unease, spoke softly. "We don't know what's happened to Peter, Padfoot, but Dumbledore's spy verified it too. He's been feeding them information. The Mark… it's on his arm."

A chill ran down Sirius's spine. This wasn't how it had happened before. He was sure of it. But now?

He swallowed hard. "Who's the spy?" His voice was strained. "Who warned you? Who's been helping?"

James shook his head, his expression darkening. "No one knows, Sirius. We have a spy working for the Order, but Dumbledore hasn't revealed who. He's keeping that to himself. But it doesn't matter. Peter's the traitor. Dumbledore questioned him under Veritaserum."

Sirius clenched his fists. Peter had betrayed them—that much hadn't changed. But this… this wasn't the timeline he remembered.

Someone had altered it, but he didn't know who. Or maybe he had returned to an alternate dimension, though he didn't understand why. Either way, something bigger was happening—something beyond his control.

As he stood there, trying to piece it all together, one thing became clear—there was no going back. The past had already shifted.

Now, he had to figure out what the next step should be.

Sirius walked into his apartment, exhaustion weighing on him. The events of the day—Peter's absence, the changes to the timeline—settled on him like a thick fog. He couldn't make sense of it. Everything felt wrong.

As he closed the door, his breath caught. A figure stood in the dim light.

"Regulus?" The name slipped out before he could stop it. He had expected anything—an owl from the Order, maybe even a visit from Dumbledore—but not Regulus. Not here. Not now.

Right. Regulus was still alive at this point in time.

Regulus gave him a slight, knowing smirk, arms casually crossed over his chest. "Did you drink too much last night, Sirius?" His tone was teasing, but there was an edge beneath it. "You're the one who reached out to me, said I could come to you anytime."

Sirius blinked. "What?" His mind scrambled for answers. He had reached out to Regulus? That didn't make sense. The Regulus he remembered had been a Death Eater. He had died trying to break away. He had never been part of the Order. But now, here he was, standing in front of him like nothing had ever happened.

"You… you're the spy?" Sirius asked, voice hoarse with disbelief. His heart pounded, a strange mix of confusion and something else he couldn't name.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, amused but with something darker lurking beneath. "Spy? Oh, Sirius, you're really losing it, aren't you?" He uncrossed his arms and stepped closer. "You reached out to me. You gave me the chance to change sides."

Sirius's pulse quickened. He had no memory of that. None of it made sense. Regulus—the spy? It had never happened before. Not in the timeline he knew.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sirius demanded, frustration bubbling up. "How… how did this happen? I don't—" He cut himself off, the weight of the altered past pressing in on him.

Regulus's expression softened for just a moment, something like understanding flickering in his gaze. "Maybe you're not supposed to know. Maybe you're not supposed to remember."

Sirius's head spun. Everything was wrong. Regulus had changed. The world had changed. And yet, here he was, standing in front of him as if nothing had ever happened.

"I don't remember reaching out to you," Sirius muttered, shaking his head.

Regulus remained unfazed, but there was something sharp in his eyes. He stepped forward, his voice quiet but firm. "Maybe Dumbledore memory-charmed you. To protect me. We all agreed the fewer people know, the safer it is for me."

Sirius stiffened. Memory-charmed? Had Dumbledore really erased his own choices from his mind? He had no memory of it—no memory of reaching out to Regulus in the first place. But Regulus was standing right there, undeniable, and the implications of his words hit Sirius like the Hogwarts Express.

"I don't remember agreeing to that," Sirius muttered, his voice distant as he tried to piece together the puzzle.

Regulus shrugged, unreadable. "If it's been erased, then you wouldn't. But trust me—you were the one who made the first move. And now, here we are."

Sirius stared at him, struggling to grasp it all. Regulus, the spy. Working for the Order. Impossible. Regulus had died as a Death Eater. Hadn't he?

But here, in this altered timeline, everything had shifted. Regulus had been saved, had turned against Voldemort—and now, he was a key player in the fight.

Sirius wanted to ask more, wanted to demand answers, but instead, unease settled deep in his chest. He didn't know how any of this had happened. But one thing was clear—things were changing in ways he couldn't control.

Regulus's voice cut through his thoughts. "Relax, Siri. It's not as complicated as you're making it. Just… don't go blabbing about it, alright? Dumbledore trusts you. Maybe it's time to prove you can keep a secret."

Sirius nodded slowly, still trying to process it all. He couldn't tell Regulus about the time travel. He couldn't tell anyone. But the world around him was shifting, and he wasn't sure how long he could keep the truth hidden.

He almost laughed at the irony. Oh, he could keep a secret alright.

The question was, for how long?

Sirius sat alone in his apartment, the walls pressing in as his mind spiraled. He had come back to stop Peter from becoming the Secret Keeper, but that was only the beginning of the strange changes. Had he traveled to an alternate dimension? Was the timeline shifting around him? And if it was, who was responsible for changing it?

Every moment felt like the world was slipping through his fingers, and he couldn't tell what was real anymore. His head pounded as he thought back to everything that had happened. Peter, exposed but missing. Regulus, alive and working with the Order as Dumbledore's spy. How had Regulus even gotten to that point? It was so far removed from the brother Sirius remembered—too much of a leap.

Had he really been memory-charmed? He couldn't be sure. All the pieces didn't fit together, and the longer he stayed here, the more his certainty slipped away. The timeline felt like it had been rewritten in ways he couldn't begin to understand. How could Regulus—Regulus—be on the side of good now? It didn't make sense.

He needed answers.

The next time he visited James, Lily, and Harry, the air was thick with the weight of his unspoken doubts. He tried to push them aside, to focus on the people he cared about, but the questions gnawed at him, restless shadows in the back of his mind.

Lily hummed softly as she prepared tea in the kitchen, while Harry played with something golden in the next room. James lounged on the couch, his easy grin somehow unchanged, as if nothing in the world had shifted.

"Everything alright, Padfoot?" James asked, his voice warm but laced with concern.

Sirius nodded automatically, but before he could respond, something in the conversation caught his ear.

Lily's voice drifted in from the kitchen, light and thoughtful—casual, even—but the words made his blood run cold.

"You know, Severus stopped by yesterday. It's… still strange seeing him, but we talked for hours, just like old times."

Her tone was tentative, as though she wasn't sure how to frame it, as if she was still adjusting to the reality of it herself.

Sirius froze. Severus? Severus Snape? It was the last name he expected to hear in this house, in whichever timeline. His mind raced. He had been so focused on trying to make sense of Regulus and Peter that he hadn't even considered the possibility of Lily reconnecting with Snape.

He shot James a questioning look, but James just raised an eyebrow.

"What can I say? He's been vouched for by Dumbledore, after all," James added, as if that should explain everything.

Sirius's heart skipped a beat. "Vouched for by Dumbledore?" he repeated, the words leaving his mouth in a way that sounded distant, even to himself. "Snape... is back in your life?"

Lily nodded, her expression calm but conflicted. "I know it's unexpected, but he's been working with Dumbledore for a while now. He... he's changed."

Sirius stood frozen, unable to process the flood of emotions crashing through him. Snape. Lily. It didn't make sense. Nothing was making sense anymore.

The more he tried to grasp the reality around him, the more it slipped through his fingers. Was this really his world, or had it changed beyond recognition?

Lily continued, oblivious to the storm brewing inside him. "You know, Sev gave Harry a snitch plush yesterday. He said he had a feeling Harry would grow up to be a Quidditch fanatic—said he'd probably end up a Seeker."

Sirius's breath hitched. A snitch. Harry. Seeker. His mind flashed to the future—Harry, soaring through the air, brilliant and untouchable. He was destined to be a Seeker. Sirius had always known it.

But James had been a Chaser—not a Seeker. How could Snape possibly know?

A joke? A lucky guess? An honest mistake made by someone unfamiliar with James and Quidditch? The thought burrowed into his mind like a splinter. Snape was calculating, sharp. Could he really have known something that Sirius hadn't?

No. It didn't make sense. It was an innocent comment, but in this strange, altered world, it felt like so much more.

And then, there was him—the figure he had seen in that fleeting space between the veil and his return. Dumbledore. Had he been at the center of this all along? Had he orchestrated this shift in the timeline? If Snape had been working with him now, did it mean he had been the spy all along?

Sirius shook his head, trying to dispel the thought. Nothing made sense anymore.

"Padfoot?" James's voice snapped him back. "You okay?"

Sirius nodded, though it felt like surfacing from a dream. "Yeah. Just... didn't expect Snape to—" He stopped, unable to finish the sentence. "That's a bit much, don't you think?"

Lily smiled, though there was something sad in it. "I know, I didn't expect it either. But he's been... well, different. There's a lot going on with him, Sirius."

Sirius swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat. Now wasn't the time to air his grievances with Snape. Not when the questions piling up in his head were so much bigger.

But as he glanced at Harry playing in the corner, the image of the toy snitch haunted him. If Snape knew that much, what else did he know?

And how much of this timeline had shifted while Sirius wasn't looking?

Sirius paced his apartment, thoughts swirling as the weight of his knowledge pressed down on him. The war was shifting, the timeline distorted in ways he couldn't fully grasp. He knew things—things he shouldn't know. The names of the Death Eaters, the Order members who wouldn't survive, the mistakes that had led to tragedy. He had a chance to change it, to rewrite the future. But should he?

The question gnawed at him. Who could he trust with this knowledge? Dumbledore, perhaps, but the old man had his own hidden motives. The Order? They might dismiss him as a delusional madman. After all, who would believe that someone had traveled back in time to stop the inevitable?

Even if they did believe him, what difference could he truly make? Could he shift the course of the war with scattered fragments of memory, or was he just another pawn in a game too vast to comprehend?

Some things he knew he could never share—certainly not about Regulus or the deeper changes in the timeline. That was too risky, too unknown. But the names of the Death Eaters, the doomed strategies, the deaths he knew were coming… Maybe he could help, even in small ways.

But who could bear this burden with him?

Could it be possible? Was there someone else like him?

The thought haunted him. Someone else who had traveled back in time. Someone who knew—just like he did. The idea was both comforting and terrifying. If there was another, perhaps they could help him understand what was happening. Maybe, together, they could unravel why everything was shifting around him. But who could it be?

Then, a colder thought struck him. What if none of this was real? What if this wasn't his world at all?

The idea sent a chill through him. What if he hadn't gone back in time, but instead, been pulled into an alternate dimension—a version of reality that had already changed without him? A world where Regulus was alive and fighting for the Order, where Lily and Snape had reconciled, where Dumbledore seemed to be at the center of something far beyond Sirius's understanding.

If this was an alternate dimension, what did that mean for his knowledge? The names of the Death Eaters, the battles he remembered, the lives he thought he could save—what if none of it mattered here? What if he was just a spectator in a play he couldn't influence?

The realization paralyzed him. Could he even trust what he knew anymore? Could he make a difference in a world that didn't follow the same rules as the one he had left behind?

He couldn't tell anyone. He couldn't risk exposing himself as someone who knew too much—who would believe him? Maybe Dumbledore, but even that was a gamble. And if this was a different timeline, how could he even explain it?

His breath came in shallow bursts as his thoughts spiraled. There had to be a way to figure it out. He had to understand what was happening. He couldn't just stand by and watch this world unfold without trying to help. But first, he had to know—was there someone else like him? Or had everything he knew been lost in the currents of this altered reality?

All he could do now was wait for the pieces to fall into place. But how long would that take? And when they did, would he be ready to face the truth?

Sirius sat at the edge of his couch, staring out the window, lost in thought. The more he analyzed the changes, the deeper his doubt burrowed into him. Was he alone in this, or was there another traveler like him?

He had reached out to Regulus—he was sure of that. But how? Why? And if he had reached out to Regulus, who else might have been involved? Could someone else have made the same kind of change in the timeline?

Snape still seemed like the obvious candidate. He was always a mystery, always hiding something beneath his sneering exterior. But Sirius hadn't met this version of Snape yet. The Snape he remembered was the one who had joined the Death Eaters and later became an Order member. This Snape—who had reconciled with Lily and earned Dumbledore's trust—was unrecognizable.

Yet there had been that hint. A whisper in his mind, an idea that Regulus had been the key to changing everything. Sirius was certain someone had nudged him toward that decision, but he had no memory of who had done it. He was still trying to piece together the fragmented timeline in his head.

Was it Snape who had changed things, or was he just another consequence of someone else's actions—like Regulus becoming a spy?

Sirius shook his head. He had no way of knowing yet. He couldn't even trust the memories that felt familiar anymore. If he had made contact with Regulus, it must have been in this strange version of reality, where everything was slightly—off.

And then, he circled back to the crushing thought—What if this wasn't his timeline at all?

Could this be an alternate world? A reality that had shifted so drastically that none of his knowledge even applied anymore? He had always believed his understanding of the future would help in the war. But what if that knowledge was useless now?

The thought made his stomach turn. The weight of uncertainty pressed down on him. What good was he to the Order if everything he knew was wrong?

Sirius stood up suddenly, running a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling to the surface. What was he supposed to do? How could he even begin to fix things when he didn't know where to start?

He sighed, his mind spinning. If there was someone else like him, someone who had also traveled back, they might have answers. They might know how to navigate this mess.

But how could he find them? Would he even recognize them if he did?

Sirius didn't know. He only knew one thing for certain: he couldn't do this alone. He had to find someone—someone who had been through this too. Someone who might understand.

But where did he even begin?

Days and weeks passed, and Sirius found himself standing by the window, lost in thought again. The weight of uncertainty pressed down on him, gnawing at the edges of his sanity. Then, a sharp knock on the door shattered his reverie. His heart skipped a beat. He hadn't been expecting anyone—especially not now, when everything felt like it was slipping through his fingers.

He opened the door, and there stood Severus Snape—tall, pale, and as unreadable as ever. But something was off. This Snape wasn't sneering, wasn't dripping with contempt. There was no malice in his gaze, just an unsettling calm that put Sirius even more on edge.

"I trust I'm not interrupting anything," Snape said smoothly, his voice cool but almost... civil.

Sirius stared, his mind struggling to process the situation. Snape—Snape—was standing in his apartment, speaking to him as if they weren't lifelong enemies. The questions came too fast to process. Was this a trick? A test? A game?

"Snape?" Sirius asked warily. "What are you doing here?"

"Lily and Regulus expressed concern about you," Snape replied, his voice carefully measured. "They mentioned you've been experiencing memory lapses, and given my expertise in Potions and the Dark Arts, I was asked to check on you."

Sirius's brain stuttered over the words. Lily and Regulus? Concerned about him? He had no memory of anything unusual happening, but then again, wasn't that the problem? And now Snape—of all people—was at his doorstep, not mocking him, not throwing old grudges in his face, but speaking as if they were… acquaintances? Colleagues?

He blinked, still trying to grasp what was happening. "Lily and Regulus? They asked you to check on me?"

Snape's expression remained impassive, but there was a slight tightening around his jaw. "Yes. They are concerned, Sirius. You've been acting differently lately. They both seem to believe you are... struggling with something you don't fully understand."

The way Snape said his name—so casually, without venom—sent a shiver down Sirius's spine. This wasn't the Snape he knew. This Snape wasn't treating him like an enemy. He was composed, professional, even… concerned?

A disturbing thought crept into Sirius's mind: Were they not enemies in this timeline?

The realization unsettled him more than the memory gaps. He had come back to change things, but this? This was something he hadn't anticipated. If Snape, Lily, and Regulus were all working together, then how much had already shifted?

Sirius took a step back, trying to regain some control. "I don't need anyone checking on me," he said, though the certainty in his voice wavered.

Snape didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stepped further into the apartment, his eyes scanning the space before returning to Sirius. "That remains to be seen," he said softly, though his words carried weight. "If you wish to discuss this further, I am available to help."

"I'm fine," Sirius managed, his voice firmer than he felt. "I don't need you here, Snape."

Snape didn't move, didn't flinch. "Perhaps," he said, his voice tinged with something that could have been concern or something more guarded. "But I'm here now, and I'm sure Lily and Regulus would appreciate it if you were more... cooperative."

Sirius clenched his jaw, frustration building. There was no way to trust this version of Snape. Not yet. But something wasn't right, and Sirius needed answers.

"What's really going on, Snape?" he asked, unable to hide the suspicion in his voice. "Why are you really here?"

Snape hesitated, his gaze unreadable, as if weighing his words carefully. Then, in an instant, the fleeting civility vanished, replaced by something colder, more guarded. "If you truly want answers, Black," he murmured, his voice dangerously even, "then I suggest you start remembering. Things have changed—but I doubt you're ready to face the truth."

A chill crawled up Sirius's spine, the words hanging in the air. Something was different. Was Snape referring to a shift in the timeline, or was there something more cryptic at play? One thing was certain—Snape knew more than he was letting on.

And this visit? It had never been about checking on him. And somehow, Snape had already gotten what he came for.

Sirius just wasn't sure what it was yet.

He stood there, mouth slightly agape, still trying to process what had just happened. No clear answers—only more confusion, more questions. The pieces weren't fitting together, no matter how hard he tried to make sense of them.

What did it mean? Had he been pulled into this mess the same way Sirius had? Or was there something even more dangerous at play, something Sirius hadn't yet begun to understand?

His mind swirled with uncertainty, the weight of the unknown pressing down on him. One thing was clear—he had to uncover the truth before the shifting timeline swallowed him whole.

Notes:

Sirius is a doer, not a thinker, so his thought process was all over the place. I hope it wasn't too confusing!