Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: He was laughing at her. "Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.
The second jet of light hit him squarely in the chest.
The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock....
It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch...
And Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place.
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Chapter 1: A Chance
As do all long falls, Sirius' fall seemed to last ages, and yet only a second.
He had time to think quite a lot on his way down.
Bugger, I didn't even get a good look, what was that spell Bella hit me with? Hope it wasn't a Killing Curse. It may have been – Harry certainly didn't look very happy to see it. No, of course it wasn't. If I was dead, I wouldn't still be thinking, right? Or still falling? I'm still falling, so I'm not dead yet. And isn't that a cheerful thought, Sirius Thomas Black. Regular little Bluebird of Happiness, aren't you. Just need a Whomping Willow to smack you into your senses.
Right about then, he had the distinct impression that one had.
No, that's just the floor, he registered distantly. Very hard floor, too. I'd think they'd soften it up if people fall into here all the time.
"Interesting entrance," said a voice behind him. "Don't think I've had a faller in a while. What got you?"
"I'm sorry?" Sirius turned his head to see that he was being addressed by a woman of middle years, with white streaks at her temples giving a distinguished look to a head of brown curly hair. She wore glasses over hazel eyes and was squatting next to him, regarding him politely.
"What got you?" she repeated. "How did you die?"
"I'm dead?" Sirius looked down at himself. He didn't feel dead.
Damn. If I'm dead, what's going to happen to Harry?
"Well, most people who come here are. Let me check, just to make sure."
She got up and went around what looked like a wooden wall to Sirius. As he sat up, he could see that it was a desk – the walls in the small room were painted white. There was a glass door to a large hallway, where people were bustling along as they do in any large place, but his attention was drawn back to the desk by an odd rhythmic noise. The woman was pushing lettered buttons in an odd sequence with her fingers – that was what was making the tapping sound – and staring intently at a box lighted on one side.
I've seen pictures of those. What are they called? "Is that a compluter?"
"Computer. It's helping me access your records. Hmm, recent arrivals... I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"
"I didn't. It's Black, Sirius Black."
"Sirius, like the star?"
"Yes ma'am."
"That's unusual. It's cute, though." She went back to tapping at the box.
Sirius felt slightly disgruntled. My name is not cute. My name is dignified and handsome and excellent.
Just like me.
The computer emitted a low hooting noise, for all the world like an owl, and Sirius jumped.
"Well, that's odd," said the woman, looking over the desk at him. "According to this, you're not technically dead yet."
Sirius homed in on what seemed to be the most important word. "Yet?"
"You fell through an archway with a veil, do I have that correct?"
"Yes."
"That structure currently has your body in a state of suspended animation. It can remain that way for two weeks. At the end of the two weeks, if it hasn't been redeemed, you will become fully and technically dead."
"Redeemed?" Sirius was beginning to feel like the Master of Saying Only One Word at a Time.
"That's the other oddity here. You spared a man's life a few years ago. A Peter Pettigrew?"
"Yes."
"You and two others, um, Remus – am I saying that right? – Remus Lupin and Harry Potter. This Pettigrew person owes his life to all three of you. But you, Mr. Black, are the one in a position to call in that debt."
"Call in the debt?" Wow, four words at once. I'm improving.
"If you can get Mr. Pettigrew to agree to enter the veil in your stead within those two weeks, you can return to your world. You may have some trouble with mundane affairs, but I'm afraid that's not our department."
Sirius stared at her, feeling a wild hope. "Are you telling me there's a chance I could get back? I could live again?"
"Yes. But I must warn you, Mr. Black, it is only a chance. We can give you a very limited access pass to your original world. You will only be able to appear to the person in question, you will not be able to affect anything physically, and your time will be limited to those two weeks. And, of course, there's the problem of convincing Mr. Pettigrew to quite literally die for you. Am I correct in assuming the two of you have history together?"
"He betrayed one of our best friends and his wife and son," Sirius growled. "And framed me for it."
And now he's my only hope of getting back to Harry.
Wait. Harry.
"You said Pettigrew's life was credited to three people. Could one of them use him this way? Could he die, say, to bring Harry Potter back?" Harry's going to need every chance he can get. No sense wasting it on me if it can help him.
The woman shook her head. "Not unless Mr. Potter happened to fall through this veil also, Mr. Black. These circumstances of yours are so strange that I've never seen a case like this before. Suspended animation deaths are very rare; life debts, not so much, but for the two to happen in conjunction is very odd indeed."
Well, then there's no reason I shouldn't give it a try. And every reason I should.
"All right. Can you go over what I'd have to do again?"
The woman was about to reply when a shrill whistle caught Sirius' attention. His head whipped around to the glass door.
I only ever knew one person who could whistle like that.
In the middle of the corridor beyond it stood a great stag with a dark coat and a huge crown of antlers. A woman sat sidewise on the stag's back, red hair spilling over one shoulder. Sirius didn't have to get any closer to know that the stag's eyes were hazel and the woman's were green.
Harry's eyes.
He was startled by the thought. I've always thought of Harry as having Lily's eyes, not the other way around...
"Mr. Black," the woman behind the desk said gently. "If you plan to return to your world of origin, you're really not supposed to have contact with people who are here for good."
Sirius sighed. "They're the reason I want to go back. Or, rather, their son is the reason. And they're my best friends. Can't I at least say hello?"
The woman frowned for a moment. Finally she turned around. "I am blind and deaf for five minutes," she said quietly. "Starting now."
Sirius turned back to the window eagerly. The stag and its rider had vanished. But he didn't even have a chance to feel annoyed before Lily emerged from the crowd, followed by James. Sirius hurried over and pulled the door open. "Come on in," he said. "We have five minutes."
"Five minutes for what, Padfoot?" James said in his carefree way, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Time doesn't matter much around here. Unless you're planning on going back or something." He chuckled as Lily embraced Sirius.
"There's a chance I can. I'm taking it."
His friends stared at him. "A chance?" Lily finally asked. "Tell us everything, Sirius. What chance?"
"How much do you know? I mean, can you ever see what's happening there?"
"If we look," James said. "We've been keeping tabs on Harry ever since we got here."
"I will need to have a word with my sister when she gets here, by the way," Lily put in, speaking with the precise diction she only used when she was very angry. "She and her stupid git of a husband and that great bully they call a son... I'm sorry, love, do go on."
"We know he's a fifth year now," James said, "and we know about his friends – I'm glad he picked up with the Weasleys, they're a fun bunch, especially those twins – and that Chang girl he seems to be dating. But the last time we checked, Harry was safe at Hogwarts and you and Moony were doing Order work. You're the only people we look for regularly. What happened to you, anyway?"
Sirius told them as much as he knew – he had no idea, for instance, what Harry and his friends had been doing in the Department of Mysteries – and then backtracked some.
"Did you happen to see what happened around the end of Harry's third year?"
"With Wormtail?" James rolled his eyes. "Of course we saw it, you idiot, weren't you listening? We're keeping an eye on Harry, on Remus, and on you. That night affected all three of you. Nothing could have kept us away."
"So you saw Harry convince me and Moony to let the stinking rat live."
Lily smiled. "I've never been prouder of him."
"Sparing Peter means he owes his life to me. Well, to all three of us, but I'm the one who can use it. I get to go back in some form or other that only Peter can see, probably something like a ghost, and I have two weeks to convince him to go through the archway that I fell through. If he does, I guess it spits me out or something, and I get another chance."
"Padfoot," James said, shaking his head, "do you really think Wormtail, of all people, is going to be willing to die for someone else, even – especially – for you?"
"No," Sirius admitted. "But I have a chance to get back. I have a chance to help Harry. Even if it's doomed from the word go, I can't just sit here and do nothing."
"Agreed," Lily said, her voice trembling. "Tell Harry that we love him, Sirius. And tell him Cedric Diggory doesn't blame him at all."
"Tell him he's better than I was on a broom," James added. "I could never have dodged a dragon. And kick that little Malfoy git for me. Better yet, bite him."
"James!" Lily thumped her husband on the chest. "You're supposed to give up being mean when you die!"
"I guess even dying doesn't change some people," Sirius said, grinning. "It was wonderful to see you two. If this doesn't work out, I'll be back in two weeks; if it does, well... I'll be back when I'm back."
"We'll be here," James said.
There was just time enough for hugs all around. Then Sirius watched James and Lily as they disappeared into the crowd. Only when the last gleam of red hair was gone did he turn back to the woman behind the desk.
"Thank you, ma'am."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Black," she said, but Sirius saw a suspicious gleam in her eyes. "Now, you were asking about the protocols in this situation..."
Sirius found out that he would indeed look like a ghost to Wormtail, but a ghost with washed-out colors instead of true ghostly silver and white. No one else would be able to see him, though they might sense his presence. The stronger a person's magic, the likelier they were to be able to sense him. Sirius made a mental note to stay clear of Dumbledore.
He would be able to home in on people, so that he could find Wormtail without wasting any time. He could also go to other places than Wormtail's if he wanted, "but you only have two weeks, so I wouldn't recommend wasting any time," said the woman, pressing buttons at a furious rate. "Oh yes, and you may not lie to Mr. Pettigrew. You must tell him the truth about the situation. If you lie, your pass to that world will be terminated immediately and you will be returned here permanently. Do you understand?"
"Yes ma'am," Sirius said politely. Hmmm... tell the truth, eh? I can think of a few truths little Peter doesn't want to hear...
"You may depart." The woman pushed a final button, and a part of the wall formed itself into the twin of the archway in the Department of Mysteries. Sirius walked toward it, crossing his fingers. Hang on, Harry. I'm coming.
"Mr. Black?"
He turned back. The woman was smiling at him.
"Good luck."
"Thank you, ma'am." Sirius stepped through the arch.
He felt a sensation not unlike traveling by Portkey, except that the feeling of being pulled was spread over his entire body, not centered at his navel. Then he was drifting about an inch off the floor of the archway chamber in the Department of Mysteries.
Drifting?
Well, he was a ghost, or close to one.
Still, I think I'd prefer to have my feet on the floor.
It took a few moments, but he managed that.
Wonder if I can transform?
Sure enough, when he tried, he was able to take on the shape of a ghostly dog.
I think I'll start out in this form. See what Wormtail thinks of me.
He thought of the sniveling rat of a man he had seen two years ago in the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade, and immediately he had a direction in his mind. Up, forward, and to the right.
Hmm. If I can float, can I walk through walls?
The answer was yes. Sirius grinned. This is going to be fun after all.
He did a little investigating before leaving. The Far-More-Accurate-Than-Anyone-Really-Needs clock in the time chamber told him that he hadn't been gone more than about two hours.
I don't remember being there that long... but time is probably skewed there. Wherever there is.
He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. I can deal with that if and when I have to stay there. Right now, I'm on a mission.
With a loud bark, he bounded off to find Peter Pettigrew.
-----
(A/N: I think just about everyone has their own "Sirius comes back" idea. This is mine. Hope you like.)