Chapter Text
"Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"
"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”
Sirius woke up with a jolt.
'Come on, you can do better than that!' He grinned at his cousin.
He looked around frantically, trying not to hyperventilate.
In. Out.
His eyes widened in shock when a beam hit his chest before he felt a smirk spreading on his face. Only a knockback jinx? Even his father would have been disappointed in dear Bella.
He recognized the room he was in. Was this even possible? Was this real? Was this some kind of personalized hell? A joke?
But as soon as he started falling he realized what she had done. It seemed Azkaban hadn't impacted her intellect after all. Harry, sweet Harry, had looked at him with a look of complete shock and fear.
He stared down at his small hands completely failing at containing his panic attack.
The last thing he heard before he blacked out was a triumphant scream and Harry's frantic 'SIRIUS!'
"I'm- dead?" he croaked out. He felt tears make their way down his face. How... how could he? Hadn't he promised James he would take care of Prongslet? Was this fucked-up fever dream James' revenge? He clasped his arms around his body.
He couldn't breathe. He tried to, but he couldn't. Well, not like it mattered. It's not like he was... alive. He swallowed, realizing what this meant. Moony and... Peter. God. Peter.
His vision started to blur around the edges. He almost barked out a laugh, he had just died and now he was going to, again? He felt like the Black madness had finally caught up with him.
Either way, I deserve it, he thought. For letting his best mate die, for getting his ass landed in Azkaban, for not being there for Harry. And most of all, for letting Harry get... He gulped. He was getting light-headed. Was this the end? Could he finally see Prongs' face again? He cringed, how could he even begin to tell Lily and James about what happened?
He lost control of his body just before someone stormed inside his room.
"SIRIUS!" a raven-haired boy screeched.
As he lost consciousness he wondered if Harry had followed him into the afterlife. God, James was going to kill him. Again.
-HP-
He felt a weight on his chest when he woke up. He firmly kept his eyes shut. He wasn't ready to have a conversation yet. God, what if it was James sitting there? Or his father? He suppressed a wince.
"Sirius? Are you awake?" A familiar voice asked. One he hadn't heard in ages. God, this really was his afterlife, wasn't it?
"Your eye's twitching." The voice spoke up after he kept laying still.
Admitting his defeat he let his eyelids come up revealing...
"Reggie?" his voice cracked. He was pretty sure he had tears in his eyes. "Is that-" before he could continue, the body started strangling him.
"Don't you ever do that again." His younger brother glared at him. His perfect little brother. Regulus Arcturus Black. A Slytherin, Death Eater and Heir to the family after he, himself, got disowned. But to him, he was just Reggie. Dear Reggie, the one he had vowed to protect but failed to. Just like he had failed everything and everyone, everyone, else.
"I'm, I'm so sorry Reggie" he croaked out and hugged the boy back. Regulus froze.
"What's wrong with you?!" he asked in a high voice while struggling to get loose.
"I shouldn't, I should've- I didn't."
"Yes, Sirius Orion Black. What is wrong with you?" Sirius gaze snapped to the new figure standing in the doorway, "Suddenly collapsing like that and on your birthday party nonetheless. Do you know how much you worried us?" Sirius just blinked. He ignored the words that came out of the man's mouth. Was that... He shook his head and looked again.
"Daddy?" he blurted out before thinking. He felt his face flush when he realized what he had just said. It was blatant disrespect. Calling an Heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black anything other than father as a son was a no-go and would be heavily punished. He hadn't ever called his father dad or daddy before. Was it okay here? In the afterlife? He glanced at his father's face and his mind blanked when he realized what emotions he was portraying. For once in his life, his father wasn't wearing a mask. Orion Black had a look on his face of shock, worry and... warmth?
Before he could move his stunned body his father had joined in the hug. "My Heir, are you alright? Are you hurting anywhere? Did someone do this to you?" he asked urgently.
Sirius blinked. This was new.
"I'm... your heir?" He cursed his inner Gryffindor, he really should think before he spoke.
His father froze before he retracted his arms to kneel beside the bed.
"Why would you think you weren't?" He frowned at the look on Sirius' face.
"Oh my boy, you don't believe the rumours, do you?" his gaze softened as he put his hand on his son's shoulder, "As long as I've got a say in it you'll stay as the Heir-dependant for the rest of your life. It doesn't matter if others don't think you're suited to become a Lord. The family magic chose you before any other so even if you're sorted as a Hufflepuff," a brief look of disgust flashed on the man's face, "I'm afraid you'll be stuck with me."
Sirius knew this was a lie and he was about to speak his mind before he saw the look on his father's face. He was speaking the truth, but how could he? Had he not disowned him just a decade earlier? Why didn't he... remember?
"The only way you could get disowned as an heir of our family is if you," he pointed with his finger at Sirius' chest, "decide to leave. The family magic will recognize if you don't want to be part of the Blacks." His father patted his head.
"It's a safety precaution. After all, how can a Lord lead a family he doesn't bear goodwill towards?" He smiles at him, actually smiles, Sirius thinks and his dad kisses him on his forehead before standing up and stalking towards the door.
"So don't worry, my heir. We will not let you go." He glances at the hall outside the door and hesitates, "I will... calm down your mother. Just rest for now."
After his father's left the room Regulus speaks up.
"Did you honestly believe them?"
"...What?"
Regulus looks shocked, "Father would never disown you for a stupid reason as you being sorted into Gryffindor." He glares at him again. "Mother would probably kick up a fuss but honestly when doesn't she?"
Is this real? He looks at his younger brother with a bewildered expression. Did he misinterpret this dream? Was this actually his heaven? He tightened his arms around Regulus. If it was, he would pray it never ended.
-HP-
It was two months after he first arrived in his heaven, as he decided it would be called when Sirius concluded that yes, this was permanent. The angel that decided to give him the dream world he's always wanted, a world of second chances, would not take it back. In the first weeks back in 12 Grimmauld place, he had found himself tearing up at random moments multiple times. Hell, he burst out crying the first time Kreacher popped up in the same room as him. The still young and energetic house-elf actually treating him kindly as he wasn't a black smudge on the Black family tapestry yet(?). His father and younger brother hadn't stopped fussing over him either. It seemed as if they were worried about him, as he had suddenly collapsed at his party without any clear signs as to why.
When the family healer had come by she had called it a 'fluke'. She had said it was probably just an unstable magical core playing up as he had just turned ten. Sirius was quite shocked after he found that out too. Not the core part, his current physical age. She recommended bed rest after she found out he had exhausted himself magically and said that he was to be kept as 'stress-free as possible'. She had given his father a hard glare at that, she'd probably heard about the infamous Walburga Black and the rumours surrounding her.
After the visit by the healer, he had mostly stayed inside his room or visited the Black library. He would use the chance Ms Angel had given him for the best. He promised himself that he would lead a life free of prejudice. The talk with his father had made him realize that he was way too quick about reaching conclusions and this made him impulsive. In the past, he had thought it to be a good thing. Brushing it off as braveness and loyalty to the greater good. He always asked what but never asked why. It had cost him precious friends and family. And it had become his death.
So. Sirius had decided that he would ask more questions, be more aware of himself, and with that read more books. He wanted to base his opinions on the knowledge he had found, with no outsiders' influence, however good they may seem. He wanted to have his own arguments for his point of view and not carelessly copy others'. No, he would be his own man this time around, he'd make sure of that.
His father had taken it as a sign that he was finally interested in his pureblood- and heir studies and had noticeably relaxed. Before his birthday, Sirius had become rash and more standoffish. Sometimes even showing off the temper he had inherited from his mother. Orion Black had worried that the 'Black Madness', as it was publicly known as, was showing up in his eldest. He had stopped, however, after he had spoken to his son when he had woken up. He realized that his son must have been worried about his heirship, knowing how successful his own grandfather and father were in the political scene must have impressed him. Making him believe he would never be the perfect heir they expected, required, of him.
He had sighed, he had known about the rumours surrounding his Sirius. Hell, his wife had even encouraged them. Saying it would be great practice for the harshness of the political scene. He should have expected a mere ten-year-old boy would crack under the pressure. He didn't think the rumours were unfounded, though. Anyone who met his eldest son would know that the boy was no Slytherin. However much he disliked it, it was clear that he would probably be sorted into Gryffindor with his impulsive manner of speaking and the incapability of upholding a proper mask even with the use of Occlumency. No, the rumours would probably true, but the suggestions that came with it weren't. Disowning the heir-dependant just because of a mere house-sorting, disgusting . Absolutely disgusting. No, he'd make sure his boy, his boy, would never have those misconceptions again. He would start properly protecting him as he should have from the beginning, that he swore.
-HP-
"What are you up to?" His younger brother had asked one day. Sirius, who had just picked up another load of books from the Manor's library looked up at him quizzically.
"What do you mean?"
Regulus fidgeted, "Well... You haven't actually caused any trouble for the past few months. You're just reading and plotting inside your room. So, what are you planning?" He gave him an intense stare.
God, was this really how they had seen him when he was younger? He had realized his heaven copied the way the world had been for him as a kid, so if Reggie asked him this he had probably seen him as an intense prankster in the past. Not that he was wrong but just knowing that that was how his younger brother saw him hurt somehow.
He gazed at the small body before him, because that's what he was. Small. Just 8 years old. He had never been a good older brother to him, he realized. No, Regulus had often gotten caught up in his pranks. He hadn't even tried to protect him later in his life when they were both in Hogwarts, on opposite sides of a feud. He had failed his friends and family, he finally understood. Because of him, his younger brother had grown up wary and frustrated. And because of his assumptions, he had left the family completely, leaving Reggie behind. Yes, Regulus had joined the Death Eaters but he knew most of the Slytherin purebloods had been under a lot of pressure to do so. Had he just been there for support, that might not have happened.
"I'm just reading Reggie, don't worry."
Regulus gave him a look and left the room. Sirius sighed, it seemed like he wouldn't trust him just yet. He closed his copy of Secrets of the Darker Arts and placed it on top of the growing pile of books. He had decided to not be so judgemental of the different kinds of magic this time around. It had limited himself greatly last time, he had a grey oriented core so by not learning the spells for the darker side of him he had rejected a part of his magic. No, he clenched his hands, he wouldn't let that happen to him again. Rejecting your own magic was painful and could cause your core to go haywire. Not using the magic that was naturally yours could corrupt the magical energy inside you, causing harmful side-effects and possibly shrinking your magic pool. It could ruin the balance of his magic as he had a grey core, making him lunge out influenced by the dark energy he couldn't deal with.
He sighed and let himself fall on his bed. He had so many things he wanted to do. It was already almost autumn, he realized. Just a couple months before he would receive his Hogwarts letter. He had already seen James at a couple of social gatherings. It had tripped him up the first time it happened. Seeing him arrogantly waltz around with his black mop of hair so similar to Harry's had made him realize how long he hadn't seen him. He hadn't approached him and he wasn't planning to. No, this wasn't his James, his best mate and fellow Marauder, Prongs. This was a ten-year-old boy who would go to Hogwarts with him next year. It hurt him when he realized James and his' friendship would never be the same. They would never have the same memories in this world, which was a good thing. But it also meant that he would never be able to get close to him, knowing that every time he spoke to him he would be reminded by his past.
He grumbled into the sheets. God. Why was life this frustrating! He stared at the empty walls of his bedroom, he hadn't had his rebellious period of life yet so his posters were missing. He didn't know if he actually missed them, though. He had put them up to reject the beliefs of his parents but he didn't know if he disagreed with them this time. He let out a heavy sigh, he would have to read into it. Maybe he could ask his father if he could borrow some books from the Malfoy Manor, they had a large collection of books on the current political scene... His mind dazed off, debating his options.