Okay, prep yourself for Remus' introduction and surprise realization of Harry's recovery. I left out the Weasleys and most others however. The story is dripping with angst as it is, and I'm getting tired of tearful hellos. Regardless, I'm going to say that here now is truly the final chapter. But don't be too sad. I'm planning a sequel. Cheers, all!

Uncomfortable with the idea that Sirius wanted to bring everyone to Mungos so that they might see and (in Harry's opinion) fawn over him, Harry convinced his godfather to contact, at first, just a few people. Ron and Hermione, Remus; and Sirius believed it would be important to allow Dumbledore to know that Harry was now awake and fully recovered.

"Very well," Harry sighed. Sirius grinned, knowing very well that his godson was not one for attention. Regrettably, he'd never be relieved of such a thing.

Sirius didn't want to spread the message with an owl, too fearful that it may be intercepted or end up in the wrong hands. His slight paranoia, though rather discouraging, was understandable.

"How will you be getting to everyone then?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. They were enjoying a rather insipid meal in his room, both of them now much cleaner and happier in each other's company. "And has the food always been this bad?"

"I will probably contact them through the Floo Network," Sirius answered while spooning some very watery soup, "and actually, this is the best it's been since I've gotten here."

Harry sighed. "Only the Weasleys, Hermione, Remus and Dumbledore, right?"

"Those are the only people I intend on contacting." Sirius tried to hide a grin behind his soup spoon. Of course he had no intention of betraying his godson's trust or condition, but there was a very high possibility that Molly Weasley would have a hard time keeping her mouth shut. As wonderful a woman as she was, there were times when Molly's heart and maternal instincts outweighed her brains. "You know I can't promise you anything."

"I know," Harry said with a grimace as he poked his treacle pudding.

Sirius laughed. "For as bad as it looks, I think it's edible."

Frowning, Harry continued with this humorous act. "I'm thinking it might be planning on eating me. Does this look like an eye?"

Roaring in laughter, Sirius hardly heard the knock on the door. It was a soft, light tap that seemed slightly intimidated by the sounds rising from the room. Harry looked to Sirius, each of them sharing the same perplexed expression.

"One of the nurses?" Harry asked, beginning to stand. Sirius stopped him.

"I don't know," he responded lightly. The door clicked open to reveal a visitor that Harry couldn't see. A small extension from the wall covered the doorway from the patient's bed. Harry could only listen, straining his ears to catch a hint of the voice beyond the door.

"Remus!" Sirius greeted jovially. "I was about to contact you after I'd finished eating."

Harry felt himself pale, and was suddenly overcome with the urge to hide himself. There was an uncomfortable chuckle that echoed over Sirius' shoulder and into the room, making Harry's body shiver in tension. He wasn't quite ready to have any contact with anyone just yet. Damn it, why did Remus have to come now?

"You look cheery," said the man, sounding worn.

"And you look like something the dog dragged in." The door closed and Harry watched Sirius slip slowly into view. He winked at Harry, then turned back to the visitor. "But I think I know what just might cheer you up, if not relieve you of some anxiety."

"A silver bullet?" came the response. Sirius chuckled lightly, though he found no humor in the sentiment.

"I'm afraid not. Come, sit down and share some of Mungos after hours soup." Sirius came and stood before his seat. Remus entered behind him. His gaze went immediately to the bed where Harry sat, and staid there.

Harry had seen Remus worried. He'd seen Remus, or who he thought to be Remus, weep. He'd seen him angry and distracted, hopeless and scared. He'd seen Remus be a lot of things, but he'd never seen Remus like this.

The man's face went whiter than anything Harry had ever seen before. His eyes seemed to bulge in their sockets as his well set jaw dropped slightly in amazement. The lines in his face went slack. His body tensed, and everything in his head seemed to stop working for a split second momentarily. He had come expecting to see Sirius, in his usual forlorn, moping state. To see Harry lying still in the bed, barely responding to the world around him.

He had not expected this, it seemed.

"He's..." Remus' voice croaked. "You're..."

"Awake?" Harry and Sirius finished in unison.

Beyond that point, Remus was at a loss for words. He ran a shaking hand through his shaggy, gray streaked hair, then collapsed into the chair nearest him. Sirius was standing near, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I was going to tell you, you know?"

He breathed a thin stream of air through his teeth. Remus looked down at the floor and shook his head. "It's not important. The two of you deserved some time alone before...before..."

"Everyone came back to hog him," Sirius finished with a desolate laugh. Remus nodded, then stood from his chair.

"I'll leave you two alone," he said, and with that stepped outside.

Both Sirius and Harry watched him leave with frowns on their faces.

"He's been like that for as long as I can remember." Sirius sighed and slumped into the chair by the bed.

Harry nodded. "I can understand he feels like he's interrupting. But I don't really mind his company. He's welcome to stay."

Smiling at Harry's honesty and caring nature toward Remus, Sirius sighed again. "He knows he's welcome, but like you said he feels like he's intruding." Sirius paused. "He's happy you're all right."

"Oh?"

Sirius waited a few seconds, stood and exited the room. He found Remus slumped in a chair in the lobby, his head rested in his hands. His aged body not as sly as it used to be, Sirius couldn't get too close to Remus without the man sensing his presence. It's the wolf in him do doubt, Sirius thought as a pair of bloodshot eyes peered up into his own. Remus looked, if possible, even worse than he had a few moments ago.

"Is there something wrong?" Remus asked, trying as best he could to straighten up his appearance. He stood formally, as though Sirius were a senior officer, addressing him over a very important matter. Sirius frowned, pondering how to answer this question.

Here before him stood the only living friend he had left. James was gone, and as far as Sirius was concerned, Peter was dead to him as well. Remus was the only thing he had left of a past they both remembered. That relationship was dear to him in a way he would never be able to finds words to express.

"Yes," he said at long last.

"What's happened?" Remus asked breathily, assuming they were talking about Harry.

Sirius raised a hand to calm the man, who seemed abnormally excitable at the moment. Of course, he couldn't blame him. Sirius would have been a very foolish and selfish man indeed to believe that he'd been the only one suffering through this dilemma. Remus had fretted just as much as he, though his emotions and beliefs had taken a back seat to Sirius' own. Damn it, and Sirius had allowed that to happen too. "Don't worry, it's nothing we can't handle."

"Is it Harry--"

"No," Sirius stated calmly. "It's you."

A frown came to Remus' face, partly out of confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked. "I've said something wrong?"

"No," Sirius repeated. "Quite the contrary. You've not said anything at all."

Remus' frown deepened. "I don't understand."

"Through these past few weeks, we've both been through hell. Not just me. I never took into account your feelings during this time, and I want to apologize for that."

A timid smile came to Remus' features, like that of an embarrassed schoolboy. The one Sirius had known ages ago when they had both been young and reckless. Nothing at all like the way they were now.

"My feelings don't matter Sirius. Harry is your godson--"

"He's just as much yours, really."

Remus' frown couldn't get any deeper, so he resorted to drawing up his brow in a very perplexed line. "No, you're his godfather. You're--"

"Remus, for someone so smart you can be pretty dense sometimes." This took Remus aback, but Sirius, feeling guilty at that comment, quickly tried to bring up the slack he'd just left for himself. "You've been there for Harry when I couldn't be. You were there to protect him when you thought he was in danger. You did what I couldn't whenever you were near. Things you didn't have to do." Sirius let his head drop. "Thank you."

For the first time in a long while, a true smile broke on the man's features.

"I did only what I knew needed to be done. I care about Harry, yes, if you want the truth. It's not a crime. I too once knew what it was like to have nothing. I can't be the father figure that James would have been, and I'm not going to try to be. I don't want to take that place in Harry's life, and you don't either I believe."

"Neither one of us could fill that hole, my friend."

Remus nodded, continuing on. "But you're the runner up for that position, I guess you could say. What I feel isn't important. It's your job to be the fretting guardian." Remus chuckled. "A part that you play well."

"I beg your pardon!" Sirius mock frowned.

Both of them were laughing now, the days of their youth shining through just slightly as they stood outside of the hospital room in the eyes of passers by. It lasted for a healthy amount of time, before at last they were both sitting across from each other.

"With the second war starting, things are going to change," said Remus with a bitter glance over his shoulder. "What just wasn't very safe before will now be highly dangerous. Harry is going to be a primary target, you know that."

"Harry will be safe with me," Sirius said.

"And no one doubts that for a second," Remus began. "But Dumbledore is worried. He thinks it might be safer if you and Harry kept a low profile."

Sirius groaned. "We're not going to be locked up in that house all summer!"

A sorrowful sigh escaped Remus' lips. "You might have to be. Dumbledore has set wards and spells around the perimeter as though he believes Armageddon will be launched on that very spot. As you well know, it could be if people know that Harry's staying there."

"Well what does he want to do?" Sirius snapped. "Send Harry back to live with his aunt and uncle?"

"No place is one hundred percent safe anymore. Except maybe Hogwarts, and fear is growing that even the magical boundaries around its perimeter now have limits against the growing forces of Voldemort's followers."

Sirius cursed and rubbed a hand over his face. He didn't want to listen to this, not now. He'd been subjected to enough trauma these past few weeks. Now, all he wanted was some peace.

"I don't like it anymore than you do," Remus continued. "But we're looking at history repeating itself. We're back in the dark days, my friend."

"And they're only going to get darker."

"Precisely."

There was a moment of silence, in which Sirius could only sit and imagine as all of their assets diminished one by one. Things were going to get complicated all over again, only this time it was worse. Voldemort had more followers, younger ones. Wizards that could wipe out thousands of useful men and women working against the wakening darkness that lingered just beyond the sunset, threatening to take over their next dawn with a wave of fury and vengeance.

Harry, his godson, was a primary target of those forces. Sirius was powerful and smart, but even he couldn't hold up against the waves that threatened to take them all down into oblivion, as much as he hated to think about it. It panged him to know that his protection was not enough to save that which was dearest to him.

But he'd be damned if he gave up without a fight.

"Let's go back," he purposed. "Harry must be wondering where the heck we are."

"There's still one thing I don't understand," Harry said as he spoke privately with Dumbledore.

"Just one, Harry?" the elderly man asked with a knowing grin.

"Sir, I don't think I have enough days in my life to ask you in detail about everything that's happened to me in...wherever I was."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Very well, Harry. Ask me, and I will do my best to answer you."

He stopped, biting his lip to consider carefully his words. He never once thought he'd be here in this office over the summer holidays, but then again Harry had a knack for surprising himself with all the situations he ended up in.

"How is it that Voldemort was able to take control of me?"

The old man considered Harry for a moment, as though wondering if this were something Harry really needed to know. A glitter in his eyes told Harry that, regardless of his better judgment, Dumbledore had acquiesced.

"At first, Voldemort did not have control of you. Wherever you were, the imagery, the situation, all of it, was nothing more than a simulation of your own mind."

"At first," Harry repeated.

"Yes, Harry. As you progressed, Voldemort tapped into your thoughts as he has done before if you recall." Harry nodded. "He noted your weakened mental state and took that into his advantage. He began to play with your emotions and your mind. Eventually he came to realize that if he could keep you in your state for long enough, you would begin to decay until at last..."

"I would die."

Dumbledore nodded. "Precisely."

Harry frowned, another thought coming to his mind. "How is it then that you entered my dream and gave me that knife? The lock pick Sirius had given me?"

A grin flashed across Dumbledore's face. "That was not an image of Voldemort, Harry, nor one of his illusions."

"Then what was it?"

"Not what, Harry, but who?"

Harry sat in quiet consideration. "You?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Harry. I was able to find a gap in Voldemort's holding on you. I slipped in and gave you, how would you say, a push in the right direction?"

"I see," said Harry. "Professor, might I ask you one more thing?"

"Just one, Harry?"

He looked up into the old man's eyes and found, for the first time, a sign of tiredness. Harry suddenly felt very selfish for having taken all this man's time in issues concerning himself. He began to stand.

"I can wait, sir,"

Dumbledore raised a reassuring hand. "No, no, Harry. Please, stay. I am sorry if you misunderstood my words."

"It's not that sir," Harry stated, sinking uneasily back into his seat. "It's just that you appear to be..."

"A bit tired?"

"Exhausted."

Dumbledore nodded. "I will admit Harry, I am, but do not let that concern you. We've all been through a great deal these past few weeks, myself included."

"Because of me?"

The headmaster cocked a gaze in Harry's direction. "As I said before, Harry, do not worry yourself with it. Now, what is your question?"

"How," Harry hesitated. "How is it that...Snape appeared in my dream, then? Was it...it was really him, wasn't it? Because of the Occlumency?"

"Yes, Harry, that is precisely why." Dumbledore smiled as though impressed with Harry's deduction. "He went at my bidding and slipped through the last gap we could find in Voldemort's hold. He came to make sure you passed through the barrier between your mind and reality."

"What happened after I--"

"Once you passed through the barrier, that world became no more. Severus had no place in which he was contained. He returned to his body unharmed."

Harry nodded, satisfied. He stood, this time truly ready to leave Dumbledore alone. "Thank you for your time, Professor."

Dumbledore stood. "Let me walk you out, Harry," he said with a small smile. "I have a feeling that there are others out there who will be requiring my knowledge at this time." He pat Harry's shoulder as they passed through the doorway, riding the stairs down like an escalator. In the parallel corridor, Remus, Sirius, the Weasley clan, Hermione, Hagrid, and a surprising number of Order members and Professors stood waiting for both of them.

Harry made a quick dash to Sirius' side, wanting nothing more than to avoid the excessive attention he was sure to receive if he stayed in one spot too long. The Weasleys and Hermione had all dished out their overzealous welcomes earlier in the week, and he and Hagrid had had their own tearful reunion earlier that day before Harry had met with his headmaster to discuss the past situations.

Sirius was in a deep discussion with Remus and Arthur Weasley concerning the Ministry's recent actions toward the Death Eater forces rumored to be growing in Romania. Arthur and Molly were concerned for their son Charlie, who had gone back to work in Romania some time ago.

"We're trying to get him to come back here," Harry heard Arthur saying as he approached. "Molly's worried sick and frankly we could use the extra help. I, oh--Hello Harry!"

All faces turned to consider him with wide grins.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Harry greeted with an equal smile.

"Hey, kiddo," said Sirius with a smile, resting an arm about Harry's shoulders. "Get your answers?"

Harry nodded. "I think so."

"Dumbledore looks exhausted," Remus commented. They all turned to watch Albus Dumbledore step among the mingling crowd, speaking individually with Order members and Professors.

"No more than the rest of us," Arthur completed, pinching the bridge of his nose against a sting in his sinuses.

"Is there anything else that we needed to take care of here?" Sirius asked.

"You're asking me?" Harry asked with a slight laugh.

"You need to know that I can't keep very good track of myself these days," Sirius grinned. "You're my unofficial secretary."

"I was never very good at office work."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever done any office work?"

"No That's why I'm not very good at it."

This brought a few chuckles from their surrounding group.

"I want to head out of here before attention becomes a main factor," Sirius sighed, peering over his shoulders as a few faces considered him with suspicion. Sirius may have been cleared, but very few were still willing to trust him straight out.

"Agreed," said Harry.

"See you tonight then?" Sirius turned to Remus and Arthur.

Remus nodded.

"The family and I will be attending, yes."

Sirius had planned a large dinner for the Order members and their family. He had been planning on actually cooking something, but after Harry had fallen victim to his breakfast earlier that same day (they were now living together) he had suggested they owl out for a pizza or Chinese. Apparently a stay at Azkaban didn't improve one's culinary skills.

"Not that you ever had any to begin with," Remus laughed upon hearing the story.

"Sod off." Was all Sirius had said.

Harry shadowed Sirius as they left the corridor. "Very good. Take care," he announced to the others as they disappeared beyond a corner. "Ready to go?" he asked. Harry nodded. They reached the outside broom closet and took up their brooms eagerly. Harry with his Firebolt, and Sirius with a newer product that had just been introduced. It wasn't a racing broom like Harry's, but it had a good handle with some remarkable control that put up hearty resistance to strong wind currents.

"On your marks," Sirius laughed, setting himself on his broom.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Aren't you a bit old for this?"

"You're just afraid you're going to lose," came the response with a devious smile.

Shaking his head, Harry mounted his own broom. "You say that every time, and you lose every time."

"I do not lose."

"You're right, you don't lose. You fail miserably."

Sirius' countenance held an air of mock offense. "I beg your pardon!"

"Sod off," Harry laughed. Sirius elbowed him affectionately.

"Ready then?"

Harry nodded.

"On your marks....get set..." Harry shot off like a rocket, leaving Sirius quite literally in the dust. "HEY!" He hollered, zooming after. "THAT'S CHEATING!"

Anyone stepping outside after that would have only heard their laughter reverberating in the open space of the skies above their heads.

After the cleanup of dinner (pizza), the twenty plus guests invited that night all gathered in the large sitting room at Grimmauld Place exchanging stories, jokes, tales, and histories that they found to be interesting. Harry, of course, enjoyed every moment of it. With the knowledge that Number Four Privet Drive was now nothing more than a memory of his past, and that life, for the better, had not changed in any unbearable way, Harry could find nothing to complain about. Surrounded by friends and, for the first time, family, he was easily ready to claim the title of Happiest Person Alive.

Sipping at a mug of butterbeer, Harry's attention randomly switched between the one, two, five conversations at hand, and occasionally observing a game of Wizard's Chess between Hermione and Ron. He didn't say much, but he was having just as much fun playing the spectator. A few times Mrs. Weasley felt it necessary to fret lightly at his appearance or lack of words, and Tonks had, one more than one occasion tripped over a few chairs to see what he was doing.

When the crowds finally diminished and it was just Sirius and Harry, with the night quieted down and warmed slightly by the crackling fire, the evening became a silent time for casual conversations about the past and plans for a much brighter future.

"Is there something you want to do at all?" Sirius asked while taking a sip of coffee. French vanilla, his favorite. Harry, who was sitting across from him and finishing off the remains of their butterbeer, sat in quiet thought for a moment.

"Not really, I don't know what's out there as far as wizarding vacations go."

Sirius could not help but suppress a chuckle. "Truth be told, I don't either." He took a pause for breath. "Aren't we a riot?"

"Yep," Harry laughed, swirling his mug and setting it on the table at his chair's side. "Well, is there some place you've always wanted to go?"

"I'm up for anything that isn't a cave, a hospital, or a prison."

It was Harry's turn to laugh. "I'm sure. Well, that still leaves a lot of options open, you know?"

"Yeah." Sirius nodded. The room fell quiet momentarily.

A week after he had been informed that it was Kreacher who had supplied the information that had sent Harry running to find his godfather, Sirius had dismissed the elf. Dismissing was a very dishonorable occurrence for a house elf. It was a badge of disgrace, a statement that his services had not been fully satisfactory for the family which he waited upon. The situation had left Kreacher begging for mercy to be reinstated as the Black Manor's House Elf. Sirius cared very little for Kreacher's well being, and felt no guilt for dismissing Kreacher after so many long years of service. The shock would most assuredly kill him out of grief. Few, however, really brought themselves to being able to care. Even the usually understandable Hermione, who had forgiven Kreacher for all the insults he'd grumbled at her, could not forgive him for endangering so many lives to please Bellatrix Lestrange and other Death Eaters.

Harry was happy that Sirius had released Kreacher. He'd never liked the house elf, and after Dobby, never would have felt comfortable having one of his own home anyway. Sirius seemed to be in a very similar agreement, and they had decided that any cleaning in Black Manor would be done either manually or magically.

"Perhaps something to wait and plan later on," Sirius said after clearing his throat. "How was your dinner?"

Harry's face flashed a grin. "Pretty good, though eventually you're going to have to learn how to cook."

Shrugging, Sirius peered up at the ceiling. "I'll learn."

"I can do some here and there as well."

This statement brought his gaze back down to their level. His gaze pierced Harry with amazement and doubt. "You cook?"

"On occasion. I had to learn when living with the Dursleys. I did a lot of the cooking when I lived there."

Sirius restrained himself from commenting on his aunt and uncle and tried to continue a happier shade on the conversation. "Really? I'd have never thought you to be the cooking type. Your father's culinary skills didn't go beyond toast-making, and even that was risky at times."

Harry's face went red as he laughed. "Oh?"

"But your mother could cook very well."

"Well, you can discern for yourself if I ever do cook something. I'm afraid I draw the line at baking, however."

A mock frown crossed Sirius' face. "What a shame."

"Isn't it?" Harry sniggered.

Sirius laughed. The room went silent once more. Both of them struggled for something to talk about, though neither could find much.

A few candles that hung from the walls, along with the burning fire in the fireplace was all that was casting any light on them. A few blue-silver moon beans trickled in from the higher windows, but they went unnoticed in the hot glare of the lighting that surrounded them tonight.

Sirius sat with his feet pulled up on a love seat that appeared to be only slightly repaired from it's once moth eaten state. Harry had taken up a whicker chair across from him, and was now staring at a rug on the wooden floor as though he were incredibly interested in it. His butterbeer sat forgotten at his side.

Peering into his own coffee mug, Sirius became very aware of how much he hated awkward silence. These were bound to happen, these silences, but that didn't mean Sirius liked them anymore. There had hardly been any silence between himself and James, unless they had been arguing prior to it. Yet even those instances hadn't lasted long because one always had to confide something in the other, whether it was a random idea for a prank or just a concern that was suddenly pressing upon their mind.

Harry wouldn't be like that though. Not right away. As much as he cared for Sirius and wanted to be with him, it would be hard getting used to having someone he could depend on. His trust wasn't an issue, Sirius knew. Harry trusted him more than anyone else, it was simply remembering to exercise that trust.

Inwardly, Sirius sighed. He suddenly found himself wondering on how much he could really do for Harry as his guardian.

You'll do fine, echoed the confidence ridden voice of a man Sirius had not seen in ages. Tears welled in his eyes as the image of James smiling at him came to his mind. You said you didn't want distance. Enforce that. Don't let Harry think he can't talk to you for a moment about anything.

But he's so different, Sirius thought with a sorrowful glance in his godson's direction. He's not you, James. I don't know what to do for him.

You will in time. This is something you're both going to have to get used to.

But what if I can't do it?

The Great Padfoot doubting himself? Moony would get a kick out of this.

Sirius laughed in his mind. Maybe he would. You would too...if you were still here. There was a momentary silence. It's just so hard.

No one ever said life was easy.

Sirius felt a growl breathe to life in his throat. Sod off.

The voice stopped. Sirius shook his head in hopes to clear the image from his mind. With tired eyes he looked back up at Harry, who seemed to be running out of things to look at. Those green eyes fell after a time upon Sirius, a sad smile on his face.

"You look knackered."

He peered up at the grandfather clock that sat near the hallway leading upstairs. "It's getting late."

"Think we should tuck in for the night?"

Sirius nodded. He stood and took his coffee cup and Harry's mug to the kitchen sink and left them sit in its base, thinking it would be allowable to let them rest over night. When he turned around he found Harry standing in the threshold of the kitchen, watching him intently.

"Something wrong?" Sirius asked, making his way toward the doorway in which Harry stood.

"No," Harry replied honestly, stepping aside. "Are you all right?"

Taken aback by this question, Sirius frowned. His gaze searched Harry's own, and for a second he found that same longing for a grasp on what was to become of them reflected in his godson's eyes. The thought both panged and relieved him. At least it wasn't just Sirius having a hard time trying to figure out how to take hold of his new role.

"I will be." He smiled and rested an arm around Harry's shoulders. "We both will be."

Harry smiled. "Glad to hear it."

They walked side by side through the corridor.

"Starting tomorrow, you cook breakfast."

A laugh erupted from Harry's throat. "Very well, then you make lunch."

"Do you trust me?"

"I don't imagine a sandwich or two would be that hard."

Sirius pondered this for a moment. "All right, I can give it a shot. Then that leaves dinner."

"We can try a double project."

"You mean both of us cooking?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

"Because I won't know who to blame if we burn the house down."

At this statement, both of them roared with laughter. It took them a good, long while to regain their composures.

"We can just say that that was a joint project as well."

"Fair enough." Sirius shrugged.

Harry shook his head, hiding his grin. "All right. Sleep well, Sirius."

"See you in the morning."

They shared a light, friendly embrace before slipping into their own rooms for the night.

The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black was an edifice onto itself. With rooms galore and a history as magnificent as the detail worked into its structure, it was easily one of the grandest homes anyone, muggle or wizard, would ever lay eyes on.

It had been home to numerous and famous wizards over the ages, housing their children, and their children's children, and their children's children's children. The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black had known many great things and many great persons, but it had never known a truly happy family.

Not until tonight.

The End...

Well, how was that guys? This got pretty emotionally intense, especially when Sirius heard James' voice. No, he's not going insane, and he's not the one stuck in an imaginary world. He's just...have you ever missed someone really badly? Have you ever imagined yourself talking to them, and imagined what they might say back? That's what happened to Sirius right there. Nothing deeper than that.

Anyway, I hope this was a nice ending. I've got Loreena McKennit's "Dante's Prayer," playing right now. Music adds to the mood. I hope that song shines through in here.

Thank you everyone so much for your wonderful reviews! I've noticed as well that this story is on quiet a few favorites lists. (Bows) I am very humbled.

Oh, and Lady Taliesin, I will do what I can to get the next chapter up for Worlds of Wonder as soon as possible, all right? (hugs) You're so sweet.

And a whopping 12 pages in HTML format on Word Processor. Wow!

Thank you again everyone. Very much so. (bows) I am honored that so many of you enjoyed this story. I hope it grows to get over 200 someday, but I'll have to wait and see. Take care all of you! May your muses bless you!