chaos (ˈkeɪɒs/) - noun

1. complete disorder and confusion.

2. the property of a complex system whose behaviour is so unpredictable as to appear random, owing to great sensitivity to small changes in conditions.

3. the formless matter supposed to have existed before the creation of the universe.

AGENTS OF CHAOS

Chapter I

"Sirius!" she yells, as Bellatrix's spell hits her Godfather. He falls, petrified, a ghost of a smile still etched onto his face. She has to stop him, she has to save him.

He's falling in slow motion, and suddenly, she can move. She runs faster than she's ever run before. Just as he falls through a translucent curtain, she catches him.

They both fall through the curtain.

The last thing she can hear is Remus yelling out her name.

~o~

The colours keep changing around the pair of them. They're travelling through a myriad of pictures and moments in time. Just as she thinks she can make out a scene, it shifts and changes.

And all this while, they haven't stopped falling. They're falling oh-so-slowly, though their surroundings change way too fast for their neural synapses to comprehend the blur of hues and colours, and sometimes disjointed noises.

Finally, the colours solidify into one final shade, and a time snap occurs. She falls on top of Sirius with an 'oomph' and he puts his arms around her to protect her from falling on the ground.

They both look around to see where they've arrived, as the sounds of this new place catches up to them. There's a gleaming red steam engine whistling, and there's the sound of incessant chatter from students and adults, alike. It's like a white noise.

"Si-Sirius?" she asks, uncertain. Because the boy lying under her seems to be only eleven or twelve. His eyes are the same blue-grey as Sirius', though.

"Harry?" the boy asks, his eyes wide.

There's a swish from behind her, and a voice calls out, "Hariel dear, I told you not to run!"

'That's your mother. You call her Mama,' a voice that sounds like her own whispers in her head.

Surprised by that voice, she jumps up, and hastily tries to pull this eleven year old Sirius up with her.

"You even knocked down someone else? I'm so sorry, dearie. Hariel's just like that."

She says, "Sorry, Mama," just as Sirius says, "It's all right, Mrs. Potter."

"You both introduced yourselves already? How lovely! What's your name?" she asks, and Hariel doesn't know what to say. Thankfully, they're saved by a blonde woman who comes to stand behind Sirius. Hariel recognises her from the portrait in Grimmauld's Place.

"Euphemia. I see your daughter has already tried to maim my son?" she asks coolly.

Sirius cuts in before Mama can reply, saying smoothly, "It's partly my fault Mother. I wasn't seeing where I was going. Hariel even helped me up."

"Hariel, is it?" she asks, her grey eyes moving from Sirius' to Harry's.

'You curtsey and address her as Lady Black.'

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Black," she says dutifully, following the advice of the voice in her head. It's when she curtseys that she notices her own clothes. She's wearing robes of high quality. She's never worn robes this expensive, except during the Yule Ball.

"Ah, a child who has some manners. You might be able to teach my son something of Pureblood culture," she says, as Sirius scowls.

Mama and Lady Black move away to discuss something, which gives Harry the perfect opportunity to ask Sirius about what is going on.

"Siri? What's happening?" she asks, softly.

He cocks his head to one side, considering her question.

"I have no clue, Harry. We're stuck as eleven year olds. But - "

She cuts him off by shaking her head violently. He stops talking long enough to notice the younger boy who seems to be eavesdropping on them.

Sirius grabs the boy by the sleeve and grins.

"Hariel Potter, meet my younger brother Regulus Black."

~o~

They're now seated in an empty compartment. Sirius has already warded the place and Hariel has locked the door physically and drawn the blinds. Precaution is a must.

"Right, we have to talk about what's going on."

"We seem to be reliving my First Year."

"Only that it isn't your First Year, because there's no James Potter."

"Exactly. You're in his place. You even have his mother."

"Do you think we're in some sort of alternate universe?" she asks, putting her feet up next to him. That's when she notices that she's wearing footwear made of the softest of velvets, in a shade to match the robes she's wearing.

"It's possible. The Department of Mysteries houses some of the world's most mysterious artefacts. That's why it's called the Department of Mysteries."

"The question is, what are we going to do now?" she asks, thinking of the battle raging on in the Ministry.

"Isn't it quite obvious?" he asks, his eyes glinting. "We change the future."

~o~

They're now standing in front of McGonagall, having been led here by Hagrid. Hariel finds that it's not all that different this time around, apart from there being no toadless boy for the Deputy Headmistress to chastise.

She's standing close to Sirius, and they're both trying to spot Remus. They want to befriend him before the Sorting, so that they can influence him to join Gryffindor. He'd probably make a lovely Hufflepuff, but they've decided that it's only in Gryffindor that they can keep a close eye on him – Merlin knows he'll need their support, going through puberty as a werewolf.

Sirius has already located Snape and her mother, and can't stop scowling. So Hariel squeezes his right hand and goes back to looking for Remus, as McGonagall leaves the First Years to themselves, telling them to be ready for their Sorting when she comes back.

"Siri! Don't look now, but I think that sandy haired boy in second-hand robes standing towards the end of the crowd is Remus," she hisses in a low voice.

He turns around immediately, disregarding her warning.

"That's him, all right. I'm going to talk to him now. You'll manage here all by yourself, Prongslet?"

"Yeah, I'll manage. You'll look after the Sorting, right?"

"Don't worry. It's all under control."

And before she can say anything, he sets off towards Remus.

Hariel scowls in annoyance, and taps her foot on the marble of the floor impatiently, trying to tune out the stupid chatter of the people around.

"My brother said that we'll have to answer questions in front of everyone in just our underclothes if we don't want to go into Hufflepuff," says one boy nervously, as the girl next to him lets out a puff of breath indignantly.

"There's nothing wrong with being a Hufflepuff! Both my parents are from Hufflepuff!"

The boy mutters something offensive and the girl sniffs loudly, before stomping her feet and moving away.

Hariel looks down at the platinum watch she has on her wrist, wondering how much longer it will take for McGonagall to reappear. When she looks up, her eyes meet the cold blue of Narcissa Black's, and the blonde girl nods her head in acknowledgement.

'You met her at Madam Malkin's when you went to place your order for your robes,' whispers the "Voice" – as she's dubbed it – and so she mimics Narcissa's gesture.

"Which house do you wish to be in?" asks the other witch, as Hariel mentally compares the girl in front of her with the woman she'd seen before. There are facial features that haven't changed, Hariel realises, and guesses that that's probably why she could identify her.

"I suppose Gryffindor would be for the best, though Ravenclaw shouldn't be too bad," replies Hariel, waiting for Narcissa to react to the Gryffindor part.

"Gryffindor would suit you, I suppose. You are, after all, his descendant," says the girl pleasantly, and for a moment, Hariel is surprised. But the Voice speaks again, and Hariel finds herself better informed.

"Yes, Tallulah Gryffindor did marry into the Potter line," Hariel replies, and notes that there's a flicker of interest in the blonde's eyes, before the mask slips back on again.

"I didn't realise your parents promoted lineage studies," says the witch carefully, and Hariel knows for sure that the girl is going to be in Slytherin.

"My parents don't care much for blood, but they believe everyone must take pride in their history," she says, as an image of Fleamont Potter showing her an ancestry book pops into her head.

"Interesting," Narcissa says, as McGonagall materialises in front of them, a scroll of parchment in her hand.

In the hush that descends among the students, Hariel whispers in Narcissa's ears, "You'll do well in Slytherin."

For the first time in their entire conversation, Narcissa Black flashes her a lively smile.

~o~

"I disappear for two minutes and you're friends with my cousin?" asks Sirius playfully, as they all troop into the Great Hall.

"She seems nice enough," Hariel tells him, as she surreptitiously watches the older students sitting at their house tables.

"Wait till she meets Lucius Malfoy. That's when the drama starts."

Hariel scans the Slytherin table, and finds a pretentious boy with pale blond hair and a pointed chin, regaling his housemates with some tale – like father, like son, she thinks.

"Which year is he in?"

"Second Year now, pretentious git."

"Who are you talking about?" asks the pleasant voice from earlier , and Hariel feels a grin creeping up on her face as she turns to face Narcissa. Sirius scowls.

"Your stupid future husband," he growls viciously, and Narcissa's mouth falls open.

Hariel nudges Sirius, as Narcissa complains, "I'll be writing to Aunt Walburga!"

Like mother, like son as well, she thinks, continuing to grin.

"So who is it?" Narcissa demands, but McGonagall announces at that moment that the Sorting is about to begin. Immediately, the hall quietens, and Narcissa is paying close attention, her thirst for gossip forgotten.

Aiden Avery is the first boy to be Sorted. He walks to the stool timidly, as though the hush of silence in the room is pressing against him. When he's sorted into Hufflepuff, he breathes an audible sigh of relief, and grins broadly at his future mates, as the badgers all break into applause to welcome their newest member.

Two more sortings, and a boy named Marcus Belamy is being sorted.

If Narcissa looked pale earlier, she looks absolutely ghastly now. Despite her earlier sort-of quarrel with Sirius, Narcissa is tightly clutching his hand, which makes Sirius exchange an amused glance with Hariel.

"You'll get into Slytherin," Hariel promises, and Narcissa trembles ever so slightly, before nodding her head bravely and shrugging Sirius' hand off.

"Black, Narcissa."

The Sorting Hat comes down to Narcissa's nose, which looks funny on the otherwise prim and proper girl. Her pale hands clutch the edges of the stool, and her knuckles are white – Hariel can see this even from this distance.

"SLYTHERIN!" bellows the hat, and when McGonagall removes the hat, Narcissa is smiling relievedly. The only person smiling more broadly is Professor Slughorn.

"Remember the plan," Sirius whispers urgently, and she squeezes his hand as the next name is called out .

"Black, Sirius."

If the hat took long for Narcissa, it takes longer for Sirius. Hariel slowly grows worried, because what if Sirius is put in Slytherin? All their planning would be for nought. Just as she fingers her wand, wondering if she must cast a spell to confound the hat, it bellows out its decision.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Hariel breathes a sigh of relief, but the rest of the hall is first quiet, then filled with a tentative applause from the Gryffindor table, even as a tall girl from the Slytherin table stands up and shrieks, "He's supposed to be in Slytherin!"

It takes her a moment to recognise that the shrieking female is none other than Bellatrix Les–Black. And Professor Slughorn looks like he agrees with her.

Hariel catches Sirius' eye as he sits next to someone who looks a lot like Charlie Weasley. He smiles at her. She grins back.

So far, their plan is going on without a hitch.

Someone once said life's nothing but a game, but real games aren't meant to be played – they're meant to be broken.

This is a story I started a while ago, and I'm hoping posting this will help me get over my writing slump. I hope this bides you over in the time it takes me to finish the latest chapter of Threads Of Time. That's still my number one priority.

Each chapter in this will be some 2k+ words, and it'll be fast paced af.

I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it. xx