Disclaimer: How flat can I put this? It's not mine, it belongs to JK Rowling. This is why her name is on the books, not mine. Besides, that is probably why Sirius Black died in the first place. The only profit I derive from this is pleasure in bringing ole Padfoot back.
Author's Note: I will admit up front that there are a couple of . . . AU-ish type things in this fic, mainly because Sirius doesn't die in this one. However, I'm not going to completely change the outcome of what happens before the series. I consider Sirius a mature enough man to understand that there are some things that just can't be changed and to let people make their own decisions, even if he knows the outcome and doesn't want it to happen. Besides, how could he get pushed through the viel if it didn't? Oh, the plot holes in time travel! Anyways, enjoy, and please give me feedback! Cheers! --- Loki Mischief-Maker
The first thing I knew was the persistent ache in my head. Damn, what had I done last night? Either I was in St. Mungo's or I had one hell of a hangover. Gingerly I raised a hand to my temples, making sure they didn't literally throb, because they sure felt like it. I hoped it was just firewhiskey, because then Remus would hear me moaning in a minute or two, come in with a voice like thunder and at least try to help.
"Are you alright?"
Well, it sounded thunderous, but the voice wasn't Remus's . It was female. Slowly, because thinking hurt, I tried to place it. Molly? No, Molly's was different, and she'd have lectured me before asking if I was gonna live. But I was sure I'd heard it before.
I opened my eyes, and felt as if the world was spinning. Definitely a hangover. I did catch thick red hair and almond-shaped green eyes before I felt so sick I shut mine again. But it turned on a light, alright.
Harry . . . the Department of Mysteries . . . Death Eaters . . . Bellatrix . . . a duel . . . Dammit, she must've hit me with something that killed me! "Lily?" I asked groggily.
She'd been leaning over me, clearly concerned. I'd just started to wonder how I'd bypassed the brimstone and death felt like a hangover when she recoiled. "How do you know my name?" she demanded.
I stared blankly at her "What d'you mean how do I know your— oh."
It took it that long to hit me— I blamed the headache. She'd looked rather young, but I'd taken it for my being fourteen years older than when I'd last seen her. But no— I wasn't in the afterlife, I was in the past. Lily Evans was staring at me, thinking I was a total stranger. Damn! My memory needed to come back completely so I could figure out what happened.
"Well?" Lily was glaring at me, and now I remembered how she always managed to intimidate me and James.
"Sorry, I thought you were someone else," I mumbled, pulling out the only lame excuse I could think of. I sat up, rubbing my temples. "This is one hell of a hangover."
Lily didn't look entirely convinced. "Well, my name's Lily, too," she announced. "And you chose quite the place to have a hangover, sir."
"You in school?" I asked. The background was just beginning to come into focus, and I thought I could see the lake. That was both a blessing and a curse— it meant I didn't run the risk of running into the future Petunia Dursley, but I had one of meeting myself. I knew I'd made one idiot of a teenager, but I was never quite that dumb.
"Yes. Hogwarts," she added, obviously (and accurately) assuming I wasn't quite thinking straight. But, Merlin, her voice still hurt. "Should . . . should you get to the nurse?"
Oy, the last thing I thought I needed was one of Madame Pomfrey's potions. I'd had enough of those to last me a lifetime the first time I'd been in whatever date this happened to be. But whatever really caused this headache was making it nearly impossible for me to think, and goodness knows I'd need to do that to get out of Hogwarts without giving something away I didn't want to. I nodded, standing up and stumbling as my vision played tricks on me and my head spun.
"If this is what whiskey does—" Lily started.
"Please, no, Lily," I groaned, cutting her off. "You're voice hurts. My voice hurts." I reached out for the nearest thing to steady myself with, which was the castle wall. Maybe I'd been thrown into it or something when I was forced through time.
"Steady?" she asked in a whisper.
My head had returned to throbbing rather than spinning, so I nodded. I followed her into the castle, wondering whether or not to go to Dumbledore as soon as Madame Pomfrey was done with me. But it'd be years before Voldemort was defeated the first time, and . . . oh. . . . I was confused, and my head just ached more fiercely for it.
This was probably why it took me a minute to hear Lily talking to me. "I said 'What's your name?'"
"S—" I stopped myself. She knew a Sirius Black, and I hadn't changed that much physically since I was that age. I couldn't tell her that. Quickly, before she noticed, I pressed on with the first thing that came to mind. "Scott. Scott Bl— Barker."
Scott Barker? For the last name, my mind must've touched Padfoot, but where "Scott" had come from I had no idea.
Lily, fortunately, was only half listening. Even if she heard me hesitate, she probably attributed it to the dizziness I was still trying to deal with as she led me through the halls.
She stopped dead. I ran into her, and ended up in a heap on the floor. I must've come off as graceful, then. Steadying myself on the wall, I got to my feet and glanced over her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing really, Mr. Barker—"
"Scott." No way my best friend's wife was addressing me like an old man, even if she wasn't actually married to him yet.
"Okay, Scott. Just nuisances, really." I caught a bit of a blush on her cheeks, though. Merlin, no— please say that didn't spell "James."
Oh, but it did. Something about us did it for me. I wasn't sure if it was seeing a long-nosed, scarless Harry— funny, when'd I start thinking of James in terms of his son?— Peter before he'd turned traitor, Remus without grey in his sandy hair or the stubble I'd gotten used to, or me. Teenage me, and that was probably the biggest shock of all. Lily, James, Peter, and Remus I remembered, hazy but still there; me I did not. I hadn't even seen a photo of myself at that age in a long time.
"Hullo, Evans."
I sensed a bad pick-up line, followed by a verbal smack in the face.
"Don't waste your breath, Potter," Lily snapped, brushing back her hair. I'd forgotten how distinct that gesture had always been. "I'm busy."
Harry got obstinacy from his dad. James's bullheadedness was Marauder legend. "Not too busy to say 'hi' to me, are you?"
I'd forgotten how cheesy those lines were, too. They'd used to make me want to hit him with a silencing spell (as a matter of fact, I think I did that on one occasion; he nearly killed me afterward), but now I was fighting back a laugh. I'd forgotten how bad he was at that game.
"Not too busy to say 'shut up', either," Lily countered mildly. Remus and the younger version of me snickered behind James.
"Who're you with, Evans?" that was my voice, and it nearly made my blood run cold. I can recognize myself, after all.
"I'm taking him to the hospital wing," Lily announced loftily, giving them . . . us? . . . that intimidating glare. "Now, move, unless you want me to curse you." She gave James an extra shot of the evil eye. "Especially you, Potter."
"C'mon, Prongs," Remus muttered, tapping him on the shoulder. "Let her through." He started down the hall, James following reluctantly. I . . . Sirius . . . (oh, I give up) . . . joined them, and Peter scampered off behind. Prongs . . . it was at least fifth year, then.
"Thank you, Remus," Lily muttered, turning to me. "At least he has sense."
Sensible Moony? Well, comparatively, I guessed. All this was making my head hurt worse, and it already felt as if I was balancing Mt. Everest on it. "Looks that way. . . . What year are you in?"
"Sixth. With them," she answered with a dark look in the direction they'd disappeared.
Lily seemed to sense more trouble for me, and she took me by the hand as she led me up the next flight of steps. Even so, I nearly toppled down cursing. "Are you sure it's just a hangover?" she asked.
"You tell me. I can't even remember after a point, and that was before there was alcohol," I admitted honestly.
"Then it might not have anything to do with a hangover."
"Lily, I hope it's just a hangover. Otherwise I'm not sure what it is, and I feel bad," I told her. "I don't want to do it again, you see."
She smiled. "You're a strange man, Scott."
"You don't know the half of it." And she wouldn't believe it even if I told her, so I decided just to leave it at that.
"I'm sure I don't." She chuckled a little at that, and through both the pain in my head and the confusion I felt, I grinned, remembering that laugh. God, I missed James like I hadn't believed until I'd seen him, but I'd missed Lily, too, and right now she was the one of the two I'd rather have here.