~Title: Stolen Time

~Author: Bittersweet Revenge

~Summary: Harry is totally depressed about Sirius' death, and simply can't stand the fact that he lost the only real family member he had left. He gets a Time-Turner and goes back to 1977, to be with his teenage godfather again . . . but Sirius in not the only family member Harry has in that time!

~Rating: PG for now, might go up

~Gender: Slash

~Pairing: Harry/Sirius

~Disclaimer: I don't own anything! Well, maybe the context of the story, but besides that, nothing. I'm almost entirely sure that similar fics don't exist, but you can't be too sure.

~Extra: This is the third slash I start! I'm a beginner and advice is very appreciated! ^_^


Chapter 1:

Harry sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling with bloodshot eyes, due to the fact that he had spent yet another night crying, mourning his beloved godfather. He still blamed himself, and it was slowly driving him mad. He kept dreaming of it, seeing Sirius fall through that veil over and over again, knowing that he hadn't stopped it from happening, knowing that he had been obstructive and powerless.

"I shouldn't even have gone to the Ministry," he whispered in the dark, yet another time. "It's my fault he's gone . . . it's my fault . . ."

Hedwig was out, most probably hunting small rodents, but Harry knew that she would come back before sunrise, as usual. He slid off his bed and walked to the window, opened it and let a cool summer breeze enter the room while he gazed at the hot shades of gold, red and orange that were starting to surmount the ocean of blue sky in the east, proving that another day was arriving. The street was still dark and the lampposts were still in use, but they would turn off any time now.

Harry turned around and dragged himself to the chair in front of his desk. He sat down and sighed sadly. He was thinner than before, and much paler too. His eyes had even lost most of their greenness, but he didn't care at all. He had almost stopped eating, barely nibbling on what aunt Petunia served him and returning to his room before she served desert. He had heard her talking with uncle Vernon one night, suggesting that maybe they should bring him to a doctor, and it had made him smile, to see that she worried about him, even if it was just a little.

His eyes gazed at an open letter left on the desk, there to make him remember that what was written on it should have made him feel happy, and yet now it didn't. It was Ron's letter, inviting him over to the Burrow for the rest of the summer holiday, but for the first time in his life, he did not want to leave number four Privet Drive. In fact, he wasn't even looking forward to his return to Hogwarts.

He wanted to stay away from all of them, all those he loved. All he brought to them was pain, and eventually death. Because of Voldemort.

He wanted to stay away from magic and the wizarding world, from the Dark Lord, from his problems and from his friends.

"First it was Cedric, now Sirius," Harry croaked.

Shinning tears started blurring his vision and he blinked several times, making them glide down his already humid cheeks. He didn't bother wiping them away, knowing that more would come. More always came.

The sound of ruffled feathers alerted him that Hedwig was back and he turned to the window to see his owl flutter inside the room, holding the corpse of a mouse in her beak. She hopped on the desk and dropped the carcass in front of Harry before returning to her cage. He stared at it for a moment, knowing that this was the kind of present Hedwig gave him to cheer him up. Funny it didn't work.

Harry sighed and pushed the little blood-spattered cadaver to the trash bin by using his potions manual. A few moments later, he heard the telephone ring downstairs.

~Who the hell calls at five thirty in the morning?~ Harry thought, very annoyed for some reason.

He heard movements down the hallway, form his aunt and uncle's room, and to the sound of it, it was his aunt that was scurrying to the kitchen to get the call. Harry's eyebrows rose. Usually, it was always uncle Vernon that got up when something happened.

He walked to his door and opened it to follow the conversation.

"Hello?" asked aunt Petunia. " . . . yes. It seems he's not . . . doing very well . . ."

Harry frowned. She was talking about him, but to whom? The doctor? What kind of doctor calls at five thirty in the morning?

"Yes . . . now?" aunt Petunia said, rather disturbed. "But . . . yes . . . no . . . all right."

She hung up and Harry heard her walk back up the stairs after at least five minutes of undisturbed silence. She returned to her room and shut the door. Harry did the same and walked back to his bed, on which he sat.

A few moments later, to his utter surprise, Dumbledore appeared right in front of him, wearing dark green wizard robes, holding up his wand and replacing his half-moon spectacles on his nose.

"Good Morning, Harry," he said calmly.

Harry stared at him wide-eyed, unable to say a word.

"I hear from your aunt that you're not doing too well," he continued.

"But . . . how? . . . euh, hello, professor," Harry mumbled.

Dumbledore smiled.

"Harry . . ." he said reproachfully. "Why? . . . Why are you doing this to yourself? Don't dwell on the past . . . Sirius died for a reason. He would have wanted it like that, you know it."

"He shouldn't have died," Harry sobbed. "That I know for sure . . . Isn't there a potion, or a spell to bring him back? Anything?"

"No, Harry, there isn't," Dumbledore said calmly. "Nothing can stop death. If we somehow stopped his death at that moment, he would have died another way. Its called fate. His time was up, that's all, Harry."

Dumbledore stayed silent, watching Harry as more tears ran down his cheeks.

"Harry . . . we've had this talk before," he said, maybe a bit sternly. "If you ever need to talk to me, use this."

Harry received something that looked like a golden medallion. The Hogwarts crest was engraved on it.

"It's not a portkey, but it works quite the same way," Dumbledore continued. "It will bring you right outside the Hogwarts grounds when you say the school's name and your own name . . . now you must excuse me, but I need to go back to Hogwarts. I believe Remus needs to talk to me."

Before Harry could say anything else, Dumbledore disappeared again.

Harry didn't move for a very long time, staring at the spot where Dumbledore had stood. Now he knew what he needed to do . . . he needed to stop crying for now, and take action. He was sure there was something he could do . . . to get Sirius back."

He looked down at his clothes, seeing that they were rather in a pitiful state he jumped to his feet and rummaged through his already opened school trunk to pull out cleaner muggle clothes.

He quickly changed into them. When he was finished, he could already hear his aunt preparing breakfast in the kitchen and his uncle getting out of bed to make his way to the bathroom.

Smiling, Harry jumped out of his room, got to the bathroom before his uncle did, and nearly slammed the door on Vernon's nose.

Turning on the light, he could hear uncle Vernon grumbling on the other side of the door. He looked at his reflection in the glass above the sink and thought that he was indeed in a pathetic state. He rubbed his tear- strained face with hot water until he thought his skin was going to peel off. At least, with cleaner clothes and a clean face, he didn't look like an itinerant anymore. He had stopped trying to flatten his hair, knowing that it was an impossible task and brushed his teeth before running out of the bathroom, almost making his uncle fall to the ground in the process.

About fifteen minutes later, he was having a very big breakfast with the rest of his muggle relatives. They could only stare as he ate like four, never even glancing up at them.

"Uncle Vernon," Harry said finally. "I was wondering if you could bring me to London on your way to work."

His uncle stared at him, holding his cup of coffee an inch from his mouth. Instead of taking a sip as he had intended to do, he replaced the cup on the table.

"And why is that?" he asked in a very unkindly way.

"I need to go buy something," Harry asked. "Where my kind of people go shopping."

Vernon's face turned a nice shade of crimson to that last statement. He knew he couldn't exactly refuse. He didn't want any wizards to come to his home to tell him he wasn't taking care of the boy . . . especially the one with the strange eye he had met at King's cross.

"Fine," he said coldly.

Less than an hour later, Harry was sitting in the front seat of uncle Vernon's car, watching the scenery that passed by. Vernon was completely ignoring him, listening to the news on the radio. Harry did the same; the only difference was that he was smiling.

"Where do I drop you off?" uncle Vernon finally asked, seeing that they were almost down town.

Harry bit his lower lip. He wasn't sure where the Leaky Cauldron actually was.

"Near the Underground exit . . . in that direction," Harry said finally, pointing to a crowded street. He saw a few shops pass by and recognized a few from his first year, when Hagrid had brought him to Diagon Alley. He figured that he was on the good road.

"Here!" Harry said after a while of silence, seeing that they had just passed the tiny pub known as The Leaky Cauldron.

"There?" uncle Vernon repeated, looking at the shabby door leading to the inside of the tavern.

"Yes," Harry said positively. "Thanks for the lift. I'll get back home alone. Bye."

Uncle Vernon didn't like the sound of 'I'll get back home alone', knowing that it probably meant 'by my own way', thus using something magic, but he shook it out of his head and drove off once Harry had shut the car door.

Harry walked to the door and opened it. He was now accustomed to the smoky air and the usual darkness always present in the pub, but it still surprised him to see the interior of the magical building. The inn was almost empty and he immediately made his way to the back, where he stared at the brick wall through which Diagon Alley could be found.

Fortunately, Harry had thought of bringing his wand and he used it to tap the designated bricks to open the passage.

He entered the alley, but instead of continuing straight in front of him, he turned to Knockturn Alley. He kept his head low, not wanting to be recognized, and entered the only shop he knew. Borgin and Bukes.

No sound was head as he opened the door and entered the shop. In fact, Harry first though it was empty. He walked to the main counter and spotted a little bell. He pressed on it and a ringing sound was heard, echoing in the whole shop.

Not even a second later, a man seeming to have jumped from under the counter appeared, making Harry leap backwards. That man was the exact opposite than what Harry could remember of Borgin. He was very, very tall, and had dark skin, giving him the look of a man that had just come back from a vacation to Cuba. His lips were so thin he didn't seem to have any at all. His nose was incredibly crooked, just like a beak and his eyes were extraordinarily huge. Huge grey eyes. He was bald and his ears were rather pointy and bat-like, a bit like a house-elf's. In fact, with his skinny arms, tennis ball eyes and ears, he looked slightly more like a house-elf than like a man.

"Bukes, here to serve you, young sir," he said, smiling, his tiny lips stretching to an incredible extent.

His long fingers grabbed the little bell and stored it away behind the counter. Harry stared at him as he bent down towards him, neatly folding his hands together, with that huge smile still plastered on his face.

"Yes . . . I'm, euh . . . I was wondering if you could help me," Harry started, flattening his hair in order to hide his scar. "I'm looking for an object capable to bring people back in time, or something like that."

Bukes blinked and rubbed his chin.

"First of all, I must know how much you have to spend and what type of point in time you would like to go to . . . it would help to find the best object to use . . . but you do know time travelling is seen as illegal, young sir?"

Harry hesitated, but answered positively.

"I don't think money would be a problem and I would like to go many years back . . . about twenty, I guess."

Bukes seemed very interested to know more but Harry gave him a look to let him know that he wasn't going to learn anything else.

"I think I have a TimeTwister in my possession, but it's a dark arts object and costs a lot of money . . . I think I have the only one the Ministry of Magic didn't confiscate."

He dived under the counter and came back up holding what looked like a sundial in which was inserted a magic calendar.

"You see, this is a Time-Turner made for longer trips," Bukes explained. "You insert the date here, wait a few seconds and appear where you are, on the date on the calendar. It's called a TimeTwister because, supposedly, you're dizzy when you appear through time. It was fabricated by-"

"How much?" Harry sighed impatiently.

Bukes smiled and bent forwards. He whispered a price in Harry's ear, making the boy's eyes widen.

"What?" Harry half yelled. "That's more than a fortune! I can't use all that!"

Bukes didn't look very happy but started rubbing his chin again.

"I do maybe have a Time-Turner, but the price is not much different," he said slowly. "Everything I have else is not strong enough to go years back."

Harry wasn't happy at all. His eyes glided through the shelves, but nothing could help. His eyes froze on the fireplace.

"Can I travel with Floo powder from here?" he asked.

"That would be one galleon, young man," Bukes said, sounding a bit sad not to have sold anything better. "But are you sure about the TimeTwister? I could make you a ten percent discount."

"No thanks," Harry said, pulling out a galleon from his pocket.

Bukes took it and dived under the counter again, bringing a flowerpot back up. It was filled with floo powder.

Harry took a hand full and walked to the fireplace. He stood inside it and threw the powder to the ground after having yelled his destination.

"The Ministry of Magic," he had said clearly.


Harry appeared in the Ministry's main hall. A machine stopped him from walking forwards.

"Please state your name and the tribute of your visit," the machine's feminine voice said.

"Harry Potter here to see Arthur Weasley of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office," Harry stated.

The machine handed out a badge with Harry's name under which was written 'visitor', just like when he had come for his hearing the previous summer.

"Please have a wand inspection at the end of the Atrium before heading to the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office," the machine stated. "The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day."

Harry knew the way already and so walked to the regulation stand behind which a man with a long grey beard was standing, reading a copy of The Quibbler.

"Wand"? he asked, as Harry handed it.

Harry watched as the man did the same thing the last on had done in Harry's last visit. In the end, the man read the roll of parchment out loud.

"Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use for five years, yes?" the man asked.

Harry nodded positively and saw the man impale the piece of parchment on a metal brass pike before handing his wand back to Harry.

"Perkins!" the man yelled to someone behind Harry. "Take mister Potter to your Department. He's here to see Arthur."

Harry turned around and saw the familiar little man come trotting forwards. Harry unconsciously frowned, knowing that his first plan was now going down the drain. He had wanted to somehow get to the Department of Mysteries, to try and find a Time-Turner there, but now, under Perkins' surveillance, he couldn't.

Harry followed the little man to the lift and entered along with many other witches and wizards. He made the same travel he had done with Ron's father, until he reached The Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.

Arthur was behind his desk, inspecting the interior of a television screen with a magnifying glass when he entered.

"Harry!" he yelled, arms wide open as he contoured his desk, once he had recognized the Boy Who Lived. "How wonderful to see you! What a surprise!"

Harry was held in a tight bear-like hug and once he was finally let go, he was asked, in a very serious way, if he was all right.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Harry said, remembering that he probably didn't look very healthy. "Just came to visit."

"How nice!" Arthur exclaimed. "I was just inspecting this 'telyvisionic' set. Someone cursed it so that muggles that looked at it couldn't stop watching it. Terrible. Perkins just intervened and immediately sent it to me."

Harry was about to say something when Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared in the doorway.

"Sorry to bother you, Arthur, but it seems we found something you might want to take a look at," he said, after saluting Harry. "Very important . . . it looks like a muggle artefact, so you might tell us about it."

Arthur said that he was on his way but froze when he saw Harry was there.

"I'm sorry Harry but I need to go down to the Department of Mysteries," he said. "Do you mind accompanying me?"

Harry smiled interiorly. It was his lucky day.

"I'd love to come with you," he said.

"Are you sure?" Arthur insisted. "Its just that I heard you weren't doing well since Sirius . . . well. Come with me, then."

Harry palled a little at the mention of his godfather, but didn't say anything. He followed Arthur and Kingsley to the Department of Mysteries.


Harry was somewhat surprised to see that they didn't meet any twirling doors. In fact, all of the doors were gone and a single hallway left form the main door that Kingsley had opened with some kind of spell code.

They walked in the hallway until they reached a large room in which were rows and rows of . . . magical objects. Harry grinned. He felt so lucky.

A table was placed in front of the door, right where the rows of shelves separated. Old wizards were bent forward, wands out, poking what looked like a computer screen in which two wizards were locked up, banging on the monitor.

"They got stuck inside when they touched the screen," one of the wizards told Arthur Weasley. "We need to get them out . . . I was told this was called a 'computor'. I think Griddysak bewitched it."

"Hum . . . let me take a look," Arthur said, approaching with Kingsley.

Harry knew he was now completely out of everyone's mind, and so discretely walked towards the first hallway. Once he was out of sight, he started running, looking at every object displayed on the shelves. He kept walking deeper and deeper into the room and saw that he was reaching a section reserved for the Dark Art objects. He would maybe find it there.

Harry searched for what he thought was fifteen minutes, and he found what he was looking for.

A TimeTwister.

It was dusty, but looked exactly like the one Bukes had showed him. Harry grinned, thinking of his godfather.

~I need to go back to a time where he doesn't remember me,~ he thought. ~I can't be seen by people that will remember me . . . and I can't appear here.~

Harry frowned, that thought shattering his dreams. He couldn't be in the Ministry when appearing. People would ask questions. And he couldn't steal the TimeTwister. People would know.

Harry's hand unconsciously slid in his pocket and he started playing with what was in it. His mind clicked.

The medallion Dumbledore had gave him! It everything fit so perfectly it almost scared Harry.

He took the gold medallion out of his pocket and looked at it.

"Harry Potter, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said clearly, holding the TimeTwister close to him.

Everything around him blurred out and he soon found himself standing in the middle of some sort of plain. He could see Hogwarts a few miles away in the distance.

Harry smiled.

He looked down at the TimeTwister and pressed his wand on the magic calendar.

"September the first, 1977," he said.

The landscape around him began to twirl dangerously.

He was going back in time.


This was a long chapter, I could have divided it in two chapters but I wanted to directly jump to the interesting parts . . .

P-p-p-p-please tell me what you think! ^_^