Title: The Flow of Time
Author: What'sLeftOfABizarreChildhood
Genre: Romance/Comedy (With a touch of some good old fashioned angst in the first chapter.)
Rating: Mature (for later chapters)
Summary: Some people see time as a straight line or a river, with only one way it flows. Forward. It would appear that no one told this little fact to a certain Gryffindor. Harry will have to learn the hard way that no matter what you do, some things are meant to be, and will happen.
Warnings: This story will contain a SLASH pairing people!!! Which translates into huge amounts of GAYNESS on the main character's parts!!! So if you're one of those homophobic closed minded types, leave now!!! That was your only warning. Plus there may be some slight OOC-ness. I'll try to keep them in character as much as possible though. But I must also say that this story starts off in the beginning of sixth year.
Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own any of these characters. I wish I did, though many of you probably don't cause I'd hella turn the series into a bunch romance novels. XD Plus I'd be rich off my arse!
A/N: Special thanks to WilsonIsMyHero for posting the challenge that inspired this! And to Tsurai No Shi my Beta. Now, on to the sad news. Due to rating rules the NC-17 scenes will be posted on another site. See my profile for the link. So anyways this is my first ever (posted) Fan Fiction, so please be nice.
"Bloody hell, you look awful mate!"
Harry raised his head to glare angrily at Ron, but only managed to look slightly annoyed before his head fell back onto the table with soft thud.
Hermione shot Ron a dirty look before sitting down across from Harry at the Gryffindor table. She leaned forward a bit to get a better look at her friend.
Harry had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was messier than ever and he looked thinner and a bit paler than usual.
"Harry," she started hesitantly, "What's the matter?"
"There's nothing wrong 'Mione," Harry sighed, his voice muffled by the table.
Ron shook his head in disbelief, "C'mon Harry, we're your best friends! We can tell you've got a problem. Now spill!"
Harry sat up and looked at them for a moment. His eyes were shadowed with something that even Hermione couldn't completely read. They were unfocused as if he wasn't looking at them but at something, somewhere or maybe someone else that only he could see, and the sight of whatever it was that he saw seemed to be causing him an almost unbearable pain.
Ron fidgeted under Harry's hollow gaze. While Hermione did her best to figure out what was troubling their friend.
After what seemed like an eternity of this Hermione finally spoke, eyes filled with concern, brow knit with confusion and her voice gentle, "Harry? Harry look at me," she waited for his head to turn and his eyes to focus on her, then continued. "Is it because of what happened at the Ministry? Is that why you're so upset? Are you still mourning Sirius?"
Harry's eyes, that had been so expressive, suddenly went blank. "I already told you. There's nothing wrong," with this he stood up from his seat, "I'm not all that hungry, I'm gonna go for a walk. I'll see you at lunch."
Harry left in a hurry, afraid that Hermione would not be brushed off that easily, but neither she nor Ron followed him out of the Great Hall. For that he was grateful. He needed some time to himself, without people prying and asking him all kinds of questions, most of which he wasn't sure he himself had the answer to.
Yes, he was upset about Sirius.
His Godfather's death had been a harsh blow. Harry felt as though a huge part of him had died along with Sirius.
He wasn't sure why though. The death of one person, even a godfather shouldn't affect someone this much. Should it?
He knew people who had lost loved ones, and they hadn't sunk into a depression like this. Harry himself had lost friends and family, but he'd never felt this horrible. He didn't want to eat, sleep or do anything really.
Harry couldn't think of any reason for it.
Except maybe…
'No. Not possible' Harry thought, shaking his head at the thought. Then realizing that he hadn't been paying attention to where he was walking, he looked around.
"Well that's just bloody brilliant!"
Harry ground his teeth in frustration. He was lost.
"Perfect! Just bloody perfect!" Harry yelled at the empty corridor. He glared around at the old, dusty walls and floors as though it was their fault he was lost. It probably is! He thought furiously. This castle is practically alive! It's always moving and changing at random!
In his frustration he slammed fist into the wall. Harry pulled his fist back with a hiss of pain, cradling it in his other hand. The skin of the knuckle was scraped away and blood was trickling freely down his hand.
He stopped for a moment listening, then turned his head at the sound of stones grinding against each other. The stone he had punched in his anger was receding back into the wall. As it went others started to follow. When the stones were done moving they formed an archway, Harry was reminded of the entrance to Diagon Alley.
Harry peered into the newly revealed room, but the only thing visible was a thick layer of cobwebs reaching from floor to ceiling.
Harry stepped closer, reached out to touch the ancient webs with the tips of his fingers. Just as they made contact a light gust of air that seemed to emanate form the room washed over Harry. The breeze sent a chill down his spine and raised goose bumps all over his arms. Harry jumped back, startled.
Harry looked around once more. He couldn't be sure but this part of the castle appeared to be somewhere near the centre, probably on one of the lower levels. He looked back at the open entrance to the mysterious room. It would be impossible for the breeze to be coming from a window.
He stepped closer again to the entrance he raised his hand and touched the cobwebs again. Nothing happened, so he grabbed hold and ripped them down. The room beyond was dark. Harry moved to go inside, but he stopped. It could be dangerous! You don't know what's in there! You should get one of the teachers to inspect it. A little voice from the back of Harry's mind warned. It sounded vaguely like Hermione.
Shaking his head he set his jaw and stared into the dark unknown of the room.
"What are you! A courageous Gryffindor or some bed wetting little pissant of a Slytherin?!" He asked as he stepped forward into the dark.
He raised his wand and lit it with a muttered, "Lumos."
Holding his wand high over his head, the light casting eerie shadows over the dusty objects inside the room. It seemed as though no one had been in the place for ages.
He looked around, examining the old and forgotten items. He picked something that looked like a dirt-encrusted crystal ball up off a table. Harry rubbed some of the grime away with the sleeve of his robe. It wasn't a crystal ball. Harry shuddered as he placed the skull back onto the table.
He gazed around at the rest of the room. It appeared to be an old workroom.
Maybe one of the Founder'sHarry thought excitedly.
There were tables cluttered with jars, stacks of old, faded and yellowed parchment, cauldrons and instruments. The walls were lined with hundreds upon hundreds of ancient tomes.
As Harry walked along the bookshelves examining the books, something bright and gleaming caught his attention. He turned toward the back of the room and saw a tall, slim door-shaped object covered in cloth. As Harry moved closer, he saw that what had caught his attention was a small tear in the fabric. Harry leaned forward and peeked through the hole to see another bright gray eye staring back at him.
Harry reached out his arm and tugged at the covering. It fell away to reveal a full-length mirror.
Harry stumbled back in surprise.
There standing in the mirror was not his own reflection, but a handsome young man with jet-black hair that fell becomingly around his elegant face. His lush lips curled into a mischievous smile. And those eyes…
Like bright vibrant stars.
"Sirius!" Harry gasped as he stared, awestruck at his godfather. But it wasn't his godfather, not yet. The boy in the mirror looked to be only sixteen or seventeen.
"Is this where Dumbledore hid the mirror of Erised?" Harry asked the empty room. Harry stood up as tall as he could to get a better look at the top of the mirror, holding up his still lit wand. But there was no writing on the top. "Not the mirror then. But what?"
The young Sirius shrugged at the question and leaned over to examine the side of the mirror as well.
Harry snorted at the action. "You going to help me figure this one out are you?" Harry stooped down to take a look at the base.
There along the bottom were grooves, cut into the metal of the frame. They looked like they might have formed words at on time, but were now worn down to little more than wavy indents.
Harry gave a heavy sigh as he sat back and looked into the mirror. Sirius sat down too and they stayed like that, just staring at one another. A small smile tugging at the corner of Harry's lips.

"I should probably go now," Harry sighed, standing up and brushing off his robes. Using the light from his wand he checked the time on his watch. "It's already past lunch time, and I've still got to find my way back to a familiar part of the castle."
Harry had no idea why he was explaining himself to the Sirius reflected in the strange mirror. It wasn't real. But as he thought about leaving he suddenly felt tired again. When he'd been sitting here he hadn't noticed the exhaustion or the hunger he'd felt for the past for so long now. He only felt… content.
Strange…He thought to himself staring curiously at the boy in the mirror.
Shrugging he said to the reflected Sirius, "I'm going to leave now. I probably won't be back. I'll most likely never be able to find this place again. So I guess this is goodbye."
Sirius' expression grew sad. As though he knew what Harry was saying, like he was more than just a bit of magic in a mirror charmed to be a cheap copy of the mirror of Erised.
It hurt Harry to see that face, Sirius' face, saddened.
"I do miss you though," Harry whispered softly raising a hand to rest on the surface of the cold, reflective glass. Sirius raised his hand as well, to rest where Harry's was on the glass.
There was no heat from the other boy's hand. Harry knew there wouldn't be, but for some reason this still sent a pang of sorrow through him.
As a single tear slid down the side of Harry's face he whispered in a hoarse voice, "I wish we could be together again."
Suddenly the cool glass beneath his hand became warm and started to pulse. Like a heart beat.
Sirius' fingers came through the once solid glass to intertwine with Harry's. A huge grin spread across his face.
Frightened Harry tried vainly to jerk his hand free from the tight grip Sirius had on it. "What the bloody hell are you doing?!" He cried, staring horrified at the grinning boy.
Sirius began to back away, pulling a frantic Harry along with him. Harry tried desperately to hang on to something. Anything! He clutched at the frame of the mirror, but it was too smooth, and the Sirius in the mirror was too strong. He slipped into the reflected room and suddenly had the sensation of falling through the air. He looked up to see the room on the outside of the mirror falling away out of site, along with the reflection and the reflected Sirius. The edges of his vision started to darken. His other senses were fading as well. He heard someone shouting in the distance, as if from miles away. 'NO!' It sounded so familiar. It was himself. He realized he was yelling and he could barely hear it. The mirror and Sirius were nothing more than a tiny speck of dust in the distance now.
Then the speck was gone and all was dark and quiet.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you liked the first chapter of 'The Flow of Time.' I know I enjoyed writing it! Not sure when I'll get the next chapter up though. Reviews always help to motivate me though! Nudge Nudge Hint Hint