DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, I just write short stories from its world.
Please R&R!

Albus manoeuvred Sirius in front of the large mirror, the Pensieve was stationed directly in front of them.

"Hey Albus, where did James go?"

Albus looked at Sirius, knowing that the question was genuinely meant, and pointed at the Sirius' wand.

"Albus, that's my wand. It's unlike you to make smutty innuendos."

Sirius giggled and looked at the Pensieve. Dumbledore however raised Sirius' hand that held his wand and pressed it against the furrowed brow pushing Sirius' messy hair aside.

"James is missing a fun game!"

Albus had heard that Sirius had become deluded after the death of James Potter but he hadn't expected that the delusions were mixed with a childish, borderline eccentric, attitude

"Sirius…please, concentrate on James and Halloween."

"Why? Did we do something fun?"

Dumbledore continued to stare at their reflections in the mirror.
He sighed as he recalled how youthful and healthy Sirius used to look and how now he could see great shadows underneath worn eyes, there were lines on his face he had never noticed before and even Sirius' skin seemed paler than ever, as though he hadn't seen daylight in months.

Dumbledore gently pulled Sirius' hand away from his temple; a long silvery string was now attached to his wand. He manoeuvred Sirius hand to above the Pensieve and told him to put the string in the bowl.

Sirius obeyed, looking increasingly confused.

"Sirius…please, will you look?"

"What am I supposed to be seeing?"

"James."

"James? Where?"

"In there."

"The…bowl?"

"Please. Sirius. James isn't here. James died."

"Albus, I don't like your games…"

"This isn't a game."

Sirius stared anxiously over the bowl and was suddenly forced forward. He was falling. Falling through the masses of silver fluid.

Then he stopped.

Albus was beside him as he picked himself up from the muddy ground. He saw the village he had frequently visited.
It was unnaturally dark. Dumbledore took Sirius' elbow and lead him forwards, towards a smouldering ruin.
Sirius gasped as he recognised the former cottage as James Potters house, essentially his second home.

"Albus…what's going on?"

"This is your memory."

Sirius stepped away from Dumbledore's grip and towards the cottage.

"But I…"

His sentence was cut short as he watched himself dashing up the path and through the doorway.
He followed himself, climbing over the shattered remains of half a wall.

Then he saw it.

He was cradling James' body. His hands running through the tangle of black, tears falling from his face and onto the lifeless cheeks he held. James' eyes were open, staring blankly, right at him.
Sirius stumbled backwards and fell into Dumbledore's chest, horrified at the sight before him.
Dumbledore gripped his arms to steady him, forcing Sirius to look at them.

"Sirius…James died…"

"No…no…no"

He stared at them as he lent forward, placing a gentle kiss on James' lips.
He touched his own lips and gasped as he remembered suddenly how cold they had felt.
This memory was real.

He could remember the kiss, how they had felt soft yet hardened, and colder than an icy touch.

He turned away and pressed his face into Dumbledore's chest.

"I don't want to see it…please…"

He heard his own voice begging James' to wake up and pressed his hands against his ears.

"Take it away. Take me away!"

He felt himself rising, the sound of his cries becoming distant.
He remained clinging to Dumbledore even though he knew they were back in reality.

"James…"

He clung harder, his body shaking.

"Peter…"

It had come back to him. Peter Pettigrew. Their friend. The reason they had died.
The reason James had died.

"Sirius?"

Dumbledore's voice had a warning tone to it as he pulled Sirius away from him to look at his face.
Sirius' face had twisted into an ugly expression, a mixture of loathing and hatred as he remembered what Peter had done.

He pulled himself from Dumbledore's grip and fled the office, his wand gripped tightly in his hands...

Sirius was pushed roughly through the heavy door, his slightly-too-large trousers causing him to stumble and collapse against a wall that was cold and hard.
The door closed with a resounding "bang" and he shuddered, the screams of older inmates becoming the only noise he heard.

The cell was tiny; Sirius could have stretched his arms out and pressed each palm firmly against a wall. The only light came from the viewing window in the cell door, which was as dark and solid as the walls that made up his cell.

Sirius remained pressed against the wall, his body unable to move. He traced his fingers gently around the bricks where his hands were pressed and felt deep, rough gouges.

Intrigued, he opened his eyes and traced each gouge mark until he managed to make out several words.

"Hell Is Here, Death Is My Heaven"

Sirius' knees buckled and he fell to the floor, pulling his legs underneath his chin and he began to sob, rocking gently backwards and forwards. He felt pain tear through him as his bony spine came into contact with the tough stone every time he fell back, but he ignored it, crying harder with every jolt.

He did not know how much time passed until he finally calmed down. It felt like days, but in reality it was mere hours.
He pressed his back against the wall, wincing as felt pressure on the fresh bruises.
He lifted his eyes from pointing at the floor and nearly yelled in shock as a pair of hazel eyes stared back at him.

"J…James?"

It looked like him, every freckle, and every eyelash…yet it wasn't him.
It couldn't be him!

"Nightmare…tricks…you fools! You won't fool me! James is dead! D...E…A…D!"

Sirius laughed manically towards the door, believing that the Dementors were watching him, gaining some form of sadistic pleasure, if possible with a Dementor, from tormenting him.

He turned back to James and grinned.

"You aren't here."

James' form smiled softly at him and nodded silently.

"You are here?"

He nodded again. Sirius responded with a short laugh.

"Lies! If you were here, why didn't I hear the door?"

James continued to smile.
Sirius held his hand out to touch his lips, his fingers falling through the air.

"Not real. All gone."

James shook his head and pressed his own hand against Sirius' cheek.
Sirius gasped as he felt a solid hand touching him.

"Not real!"

He pressed further into the wall, withdrawing his face as far away from James' reach as he could.
He pointed his finger and yelled at the ghostly form.

"You're not real! Stop fooling with me!"

He chocked as he attempted to suppress a cry.

"Y…You're not real..."

He turned away so he was facing the wall; close enough to make out every grain of detail used on the blocks.
He felt the hand squeeze his shoulder and he bit his lip, closed his eyes and tried to ignore it.

"Please?"

James' voice!

This time he turned to face the ghostly form.

"Why can't I hold you yet you can touch me?"

His vision swam as tears fell hastily. James wiped them away and caressed his cheeks, smiling sadly.

"…I wanted to say…goodbye."

Sirius moved to hold his hand on James' but instead felt his own cheek.

"You never told her the truth about us. You died for her."

"I died for Harry."

Sirius laughed again.

"No! You died for her! You never did love me…not like you said."

"I did!"

"No! You didn't! I wouldn't be here…you wouldn't be…"

Through the window in the door, The Minster For Magic watched as Sirius gestured wildly at an imaginary figure, crying out phrases such as "You're not real!" and "I loved you!"
He frowned as Sirius pursed his lips and moved forward, suddenly falling onto the floor.
This routine inspection was only to ensure that Sirius Black was where he deserved but it was turning into quite the entertainment for The Minister.

He watched, as Sirius remained laying on the floor, clutching desperately at the solid bricks that actually made the floor, his body shaking as he cried loudly.

Then it stopped.

Sirius stopped crying and moving, his body perfectly still.

The Minister started, shocked at the sudden silence from the cell. He stared, willing for some part of Sirius to move, as it wouldn't look good if he died while the Minister was there.

It was only slight, but he saw it. He saw Sirius fingers curling as though holding someone's hand. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned away, concerned at the time he had wasted watching Sirius Black's wild antics.

Sirius smiled as he felt James wind his fingers in between his own and his breath gently on his face.

James wasn't dead. No, he was here, right here, holding his hand.
Albus had lied, James wasn't dead…

It's taken me ages to complete this one. Originally it was going to be multi-chaptered but as most people know I have problems extending things out. lol
However, I hope you enjoyed!