Albus prided himself on being a very calm and collected person.

Of course, he knew about the almost God-like status most witches and wizards held him up to be, but honestly cared little for such labels. The life of a God must be infinitely lonely.

No, he much preferred to be human.

And as a human, Albus was quite formidable, if he dared say so himself. He had his faults, like every other person, but he knew himself quite well by now, and knew what not to trust himself with.

Over the years, there were a few traits that Albus had come to treasure more than others in his slightly... unique personality that so many people sighed over.

His calm and composure, and ability to take most things in stride, were foremost amongst them.

Therefore, when one of his more troublesome students burst into his office late one evening, he prepared himself to get involved in some sort of prank. The Marauders -and it was with some amusement Albus had learned they had named themselves so- had a tendency to prank anyone and everyone that caught their interest. Albus had simply waited for the day that he would be remembered and included in this philosophy.

"Mr Black. Why are you out of bed? And in my office?"

To his surprise and bewilderment, Mr Black ignored his questions and fired off questions of his own, demanding information on a certain Harry. To his knowledge, there wasn't even a student currently at Hogwarts with this name.

"Who's Harry?" He asked gently, still somewhat cautious.

This did not have the desired reaction.

"You know who Harry is!" Sirius had answered angrily. The boy was clearly distraught, and it had Albus wondering. "Harry! You know who that is!"

Albus watched idly as the boy knocked over one of his side tables in his agitated pacing. It wasn't really important; he could always repair the magical instruments later. At the moment, he was far more concerned about his student. His keen eyes noted the way the boy's hands were shaking slightly, the way the right one twitched every now and then, as if itching to grab his wand.

"He was there. And what about Voldemort?" Sirius continued, unconcerned or unaware of his surroundings. He suddenly whirled towards him, pinning him with a fierce stare Albus didn't think belonged on a fifteen years old wizard. "He was on his way there. You told me so yourself!" He shouted.

Albus blinked. He didn't think he had been shouted at by a student in at least two decades. Outwardly calm and collected, Albus' mind was working a mile a minute. There was something he was missing here, he was sure of it. And the mention of Voldemort worried him.

"Mr Black." Albus began, if only to see what reaction he would get. "I do believe you have had quite an unnerving nightmare."

The response was immediate.

"It wasn't a nightmare!" The teenager screeched. Yes, screeched. As if Albus had suggested something so outrageous that it deserved nothing less.

"Then, who is Harry?" Albus asked softly. He was taking in the subtle differences in Sirius' features from the teenager he saw everyday in the Great Hall, trying to puzzle out what he was missing.

"You know who Harry is." It looked like every word cost the young man greatly. "Harry. My Godson! Who's been kept from me all year, on your orders!" Sirius was shouting outright by now.

On his orders? That sounded... off. And he had been unaware of any godchildren Sirius might have. Had Andromeda had another child? He somehow doubted that, as he'd recieved no such news. As it was, Sirius' next words threw him off completely.

"You insist on keeping him in the dark. AND LOOK WHERE THAT BROUGHT US! THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES!"

How did Sirius even know about that place? It wasn't general knowledge. Albus' mind was working furiously to fit the pieces together. He didn't know anyone named Harry. And he certainly didn't insist on keeping said person 'in the dark', as Sirius had put it.

A miniscule frown could be seen marring the headmaster's brow, if you were to look.

"I sense that we are not quite on the same page here, Mr Black." Enough was enough. If this involved the Department of Mysteries, is might be serious. "Calm down and explain." His voice was firm, leaving no room for arguments.

Sirius was left standing in the middle of his office, panting heavily from his tirade. He received an intense, angry glare, but the young wizard clearly took a deep breath and tried to follow his directions. Much to Albus' surprise. The Sirius Black he knew took orders from no one, save -maybe- James Potter, who he considered more a brother than a friend. Just as he was about to speak, the door opened. Minerva, looking decidedly put out and slightly stressed, strode into the room.

"Minerva!" Sirius jumped towards her. "Is Harry alright?"

Minerva and Albus both were surprised by this reaction. Albus would have expected Sirius to at least look worried, maybe even guilty, under the sharp gaze of his professor and head of house. Instead, he looked expectant and quite familiar with the older woman. Much like he looked when he looked at him, Albus realised. As it was, he caught his deputy's eye and she snapped out of her shock.

"Albus, I came to tell you that Mr Black was seen running through the castle and that his friends came to my office, looking for him." She paused briefly, eyeing the young man before her with scowling disapproval. "But that seems rather redundant now, I'm afraid." She obviously wasn't at all pleased with being woken in the middle of the night by three clearly distraught students, and it showed. Albus also caught an undercurrent of concern in her voice that people less familiar with the woman would have missed.

"Thank you, Minerva." Albus said, fully concentrated on Mr Black, who was clearly agitated. Under his gaze, he began to pace back and forth, reminding Albus of a caged animal. The apt comparison unsettled him.

The teenager in front of them abruptly came to a stop and spoke, sounding more like he was addressing himself.

"What am I even doing here?" He sounded honestly bewildered, and perhaps a bit disappointed. Albus briefly wondered where he'd rather be than Hogwarts; he had been under the impression that Sirius' situation at home wasn't the best. He'd recieved a number of less than pleasant letter from the boy's mother over the years, reinforcing the notion.

"Then where are you supposed to be?" Albus knew he wouldn't get any answers unless he asked. All the while, he watched Sirius' facial expressions shift from one to another almost too fast to identify, bellying his stormy emotions. The look Sirius gave him at his words would have made a lesser man balk, and Albus could see Minerva straightening indignantly on his behalf.

"The Department of Mysteries. I was fighting Bellatrix after we found Harry and the lot. She managed to get me with a curse and I fell backwards into the...-" Sirius's voice grew more hesitant and eventually faded away to nothingness as he seemed to actually stop and think. The uncertainty on his face was very nearly heartbreaking, as if he didn't trust his own mind.

"What did you fall into?" Albus asked urgently. There were a number of dangerous magical artefacts in the Department of Mysteries that the Unspeakables were studying, and none of the possibilities Albus' mind conjured up were anywhere close to good.

"...The Veil." The statement made Albus' insides go cold and he couldn't avert his gaze from Sirius Black if he had wanted to. He knew, better than most, just what the Veil was, and what it was supposed to do. Unfortunately, this gave him more questions rather than answers. "I ought to be dead." Sirius continued, with an alarming lack of concern for his own life, sounding more annoyed than distraught with the entire situation. Albus' heart ached for this damaged soul before him. "Why am I not dead?" Sirius demanded. He looked so lost standing there, as if he had been misplaced and forgotten and didn't know what to do with himself anymore. Minerva's gasp assured Albus that he wasn't the only one seeing the worrying signs.

"How old are you, Sirius?" He took care to make his voice kind, unwilling to stress the youth before him more than he already was. His concern earned him an angry glare, as if Sirius knew exactly what he was thinking of him and didn't appreciate it one bit.

"I'm thirty six. Why is this suddenly important?" Sirius' voice was matter of fact and brisk, but his answer made Albus' heart plummet because it simply confirmed the theory that had begun to take form before his mind's eye.

"Because the last time I checked, Mr Black, you were fifteen." He answered numbly, aware of Minerva's frozen form beside his desk. This was a very serious matter indeed. And if Sirius remembered everything...

"That can't be true." Sirius had frozen in the middle of the room, words quiet but seemingly echoing in the silent room. The trust with which he looked at them, Albus and Minerva, was staggering and Albus couldn't help but wonder if he truly deserved it. This Sirius was vastly different from the boy he had watched since eleven and he didn't know if he wanted to know what could have changed him so. Unlike the vehement denial Albus had been half-expecting, Sirius simply looked tired. Tired, bone weary and honestly too old for a supposedly fifteen year old.

Minerva had raised her hand at the look in his eyes -as if there was hardly anything left to live for- but was interrupted by the door opening.

"Is it alright for us to enter now, professor?" Remus Lupin asked hesitantly as he entered the room. Albus' mind was whirling with possibilities and consequences, and he wondered just how much the remaining Marauders had heard. Sirius' reaction to the question, however, was enough to bring Albus back to the present.

"Moony." The nickname was hardly more than a whisper, but most definitely there. The hug Sirius pulled his friend into was desperate and near-apologetic and Albus wondered if perhaps Mr Lupin had been there when Sirius supposedly died.

"It's nice to see you too, Sirius." Despite the levity of the words, Mr Lupin seemed slightly unnerved by Sirius' actions. If they had heard anything of what they had been talking about, Albus didn't fault him the reaction at all. He'd have to talk to all three of the teenagers tomorrow, once he had found out what he could from Mr Black; knowledge of the future was nothing to scoff at or dismiss and was easily misused.

Sirius' reaction to Mr Lupin, however, was nothing compared to when James Potter walked into the room.

Sirius looked as if he had been struck by lightning, as if he truly had died and salvation was offered on a silver platter before him and he was terrified it would be snatched away before he could reach out and claim it. He drank in the sight of his friend, and when he spoke his name, Albus cringed. He exchanged a look with a very pale Minerva before he turned back to the -for all intents and purposes- reunion happening in his office.

"What is it, Sirius?" James didn't look like any of this was out of the ordinary. He simply smiled at his friend and took everything in stride.

Albus had to revert his gaze, feeling like he was intruding upon something highly private and personal. James' startled laughter a moment later brought his attention back to the group, and he was relieved to see the expression on Sirius' face and know that he boy -man?- wasn't entirely broken.

That relief instantly turned into alarm when Sirius' eyes landed on Peter Pettigrew.

"You three should head back to bed. I have a few things to talk to Mr Black about." Albus hurriedly stated, trying not to sound as frightened as he was. Sirius looked as if he was ready to murder his supposed friend and it was deeply unnerving and worrying. The fact that there were several witnesses in the room hardly seemed to matter.

The glower her recieved at his interruption looked strangely desperate and accusatory. As if Albus was the one at fault. James gave his friend a last look but seemed to grasp that there were things he didn't understand at work here and ushered his friends out the door. Albus had never been as grateful towards a student.

"Now." Albus continued when they were once more alone. Three wasn't a force in the world that would make Minerva McGonagall leave them right now and Albus wouldn't wish her to be anywhere else. If he was right, then he would need the support. "Sit down and explain." Sirius sent a withering glare at the door -after Peter Pettigrew, more likely- but astonishingly enough walked over to the chair in front of Albus' desk.

And then, he started talking.

"James and Lily got married after graduation." He huffed, confirming the suspicions of practically every teacher at Hogwarts. The attraction between James Potter and Lily Evans was obvious for all to see, should they wish to. "They had a son; Harry." And that explained that particular mystery, even thought it paled in comparison to what else had been revealed since Sirius had stormed into his office. "Voldemort killed James and Lily trying to get to Harry, just like the prophesy said he would, but he couldn't kill him. The curse rebounded and killed The Bastard instead." Albus' mind was reeling at the information, incomplete though it may be. What it implicated was... staggering. "He got to them because of Pettigrew." The name was spat with such hatred Albus didn't doubt for a second that Sirius would truly kill his former friend if given the chance. "The rat sold them out to Voldemort!" And that would explain it. Sirius' voice resembled more a growl, reinforcing Albus' earlier, chilling comparison to a caged animal. "And then he famed me for their murders, getting me branded as a Death Eater and thrown into Azkaban for twelve years." Ah, that would explain the drastic changes, the darkness clinging to Sirius like a wet blanket, the haunting shadows in his eyes that made Albus want to weep. And he continued to speak, revealing things that made Albus feel every minute of his age and as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. The war would be far worse than he had feared. An entire generation practically wiped out! It was tragic. And it seemed the Marauders were trapped in the middle of it all.

When he came to his godson, a light lit up in Sirius' grey eyes and Albus couldn't help but let out a silent, relieved breath. The boy before him wasn't entirely gone. There was hope still.

This Harry Potter seemed to be a truly extraordinary young man, if what Sirius said could be believed. Albus was inclined to do so, if only because of the almost harsh truth Sirius seemed to be wielding like a sword, stabbing right left and centre, not sparing himself more than anyone else.

The fire in the young man's eyes only grew stronger the longer he talked, a steel-like determination sliding into his voice. It seemed to Albus as if this young Harry had been Sirius' main reason to live for so long, the thought of him alone was enough to return his hope to life.

Albus could only hope it would be enough, because the future painted up to him was far from to his liking. They'd have a lot to do, no doubt about it.

.o.O.o.