Epilogue

Yes! The bedpost was his own! He was back in his room, clutching the thing, wanting to kiss it. If this was his own room, then this was his own time. His own time to do things. His own time to change the events laid before him. His own decisions to make from here on out.

"I will live in the Past, Present and Future!" Sirius shouted. "The Spirits of the Three will live in me! Oh Regulus, Merlin, and Christmas itself be praised for this!" Sirius shouted, falling out of his bed in his excitement and landing on his knees.

Sirius was so excited that it seemed a physical change had come over him. His face was no longer the gaunt on of a former prisoner, or angry as though the world owed him. His voice cracked with the happiness he was feeling, and as he shouted some more, it broke, a sob of joy escaping him.

"It will not take me." Sirius said, happiness ringing in his tone, "I will not fall prey to the veil that threatens to shroud me." He started laughing in his excitement, chuckling through his tears. "I am here! The shadows of things that would be, be dispelled! They will be, I know they will be!"

He got off the floor and flung off his sleeping clothes, throwing them into the air and laughing as they hit the floor. He rummaged through the closet, now back to its normal state and looked for a set of brilliant red robes. He hadn't worn them since before things started to go wrong, but now he wanted the extravagant clothes. He fixed his hair, the whole time his hands bumbling as though they were feeling the world for the first time. He laughed as he dropped things, threw things around, even danced in front of the full length mirror.

"I don't know what to do!" He shouted to himself, not caring if the whole house heard him. He was still laughing, ironic tears still falling from his eyes. "I feel as light as a feather! I am happy as an angel! I am merry as a school boy! I feel drunk! MERRY CHRISTMAS! Happy New Year world! Wotcher! Whoo!"

He had run into the sitting room of his bedroom and was quite winded from all of his hollering and dancing. He stood there for a moment, gasping for breath.

He looked at the spot his brother had come to him. The closet, the window. It was all there. All of it. And perfectly normal. "It's true. It all happened. I was there. I remember! Ha ha ha!!" He said to himself, laughing.

For a man that was so out of practice with the basic practice of laughing, it was a hearty bark of a laugh, infused with all of the emotions he had not let himself succumb to for so long. He didn't remember the last time he had let himself laugh as hard as he continued to, and he missed it. Missed all the opportunities he had wasted. He laughed harder, letting the sound bubble from inside him like a civ.

When he calmed himself enough to think, he said to himself, "I don't know what day it is. How long have I been among the Spirits? I don't know anything! I'm like a baby, this is all new to me! Nevermind, I don't care, I'd rather feel like this than like the dead walking I was before." He started whooping and hollering again, to anyone looking in, he must have seemed like a madman.

He hurried to the window, hearkened by the tolls of the nearby steeple. He listened to their clang and crash and smiled as the morning sun hit his face. It was a glorious feeling. There was a boy in his Sunday clothes coming up the road, and Sirius rushed down the stairs, flinging open the front door and standing in full sight in the street.

"Hey boy! What's the day?" He shouted as the boy neared.

"Eh?" Replied the boy, probably wondering about the mental state of the man who had emerged from nowhere and asked what day it was, on this of all days.

"What's today, my fine fellow?" He said, bowing to the boy. He was in a strange mood.

"Today?" The boy said, understanding that the crazy man really wanted an answer. "Well, it's Christmas!" He said.

"It's Christmas Day." Sirius said to himself. "The Spirits have done it all in one night. Well, I suppose they can do anything they want. They're not of this world. Hey! Fine fellow!" Sirius said, as the boy started inching away.

"Hey what?" The boy asked, cheekily.

"You know the butcher shop, but one street over?" He asked, an idea forming in his head.

"I should hope I do, my father owns it." He said, with more attitude than intended.

"Ah, an intelligent boy as it were!" Sirius said, giving another bow. "Do you know if your father has sold the prize turkey? Not the little one, mind you, the big one!?" He asked.

"The one that's as big as me?" The boy asked.

"What a pleasure to talk to you, you're like me when I was a boy! Yes, the big one, that one. Is it there?" Sirius asked, babbling, and not able to stop himself.

"It's still there. I think Pops has visions of a last minute buyer." He said, sensing a business opportunity.

"Is it!?" Sirius said, his eyes lighting up. "Go and buy it!"

"Man..." The boy started to protest. There was no way he was going to cart the bird down here if the man was not serious.

"No, no, I am serious!" Sirius said. "Fetch it, and bring your father with you. I'll instruct him as to where it goes. I'll give you a sickle if you're back in five minutes, and a galleon if you're back before then!" He said, showing the coins to the boy. His little eyes looked at the money as a snake watches a bird. He was gone just as fast as well.

"I'll send it to Arthur and Molly. No doubt that's where they're preparing for tonight. Molly hates cooking outside of her own kitchen. Never such a swindle had ever been attempted by Mundungus, they'll wonder who on Earth has sent it!" He laughed to himself, walking back into the house.

He pulled a parchment and a quill out and started writing in a shaky hand the name of the Burrow. He managed it and started out the door again to wait for the boy and his father. As he stood there, the Black Family crest on the knocker of the door caught his eye. It stood for everything that was him. He carried the Black name now, none other. He was the master of this house, no one else. Never before had he not felt as though he lived in his family's shadow, and he felt free now, lighter than he had in years. As he thought these things, the turkey arrived.

"Wotcher! Hallo!" He shouted, running to the man. "How are you? Merry Christmas!" He said, shaking the man's hand profusely.

His eyes fell on the turkey, and what a turkey it was! Larger than a middle school boy, it was enormous. The deli paper covering it was held together with more magic than tape, and threatened still to burst his seams.

"Why, it's going to be impossible to apparate with that!" He said, laughing. "How do you plan to do it?" He asked.

"Piece by piece!" The man laughed, catching Sirius's contagious glee.

Sirius laughed as he paid the man, laughed as he paid the boy (more than he promised), laughed as he paid the apparation fee. Laughed as everyone joined in his laughter. He laughed as he gave the boy and his father another final tip and laughed as he made his way into the house. He laughed as he fell into his chair and laughed even as he started to cry from all the emotions he was feeling.

When he had again regained himself, he walked to the mirror and started to shave. It was not an easy task, keeping his wand aimed at his face as his hands shook and trembled. It didn't help the fact that he had started dancing again. It took longer than usual, but he managed.

He went back to his room and finished dressing himself, taking care to make himself look most presentable. This was the finest day of his life as he saw it, and he took pains to look the part. He finally made his way into the street and saw no sign of the butcher. He apparated into town, thinking to stop and pick up a few things before he reached his destination. He saw people pouring out of their homes, abandoning their own to share their company at another. He walked among them with his hands clasped behind his back, greeting almost everyone he passed.

He had not gone far into the town when a large bald man caught his attention. Shacklebolt, as it were. He stopped and waited for the man to approach him, his apprehension of the Ministry now building. Kingsley stopped and looked at Sirius with almost amazement on his face.

"My dear sir!" Sirius said, rushing forward to meet the man, "I hope it's going well at the Ministry. Merry Christmas to you!"

Kingsley looked from Sirius, his eyes shifting to the sign that hung in the window of a nearby shop. "Wanted. Sirius Black." The picture of Sirius seeming to scream all his anger at the passerby.

"Black?" He whispered.

"Yes." Sirius said, "That is my name. I ask you not to say it so loud, or attract that much attention to it, as I am not myself today." He said, lowering his voice.

"Lord bless me!" Cried Kingsley, for he had not recognized the man before him before hearing his voice. There was a change over the man that made him seem an entirely different person. It was astounding that this was the same man as the one in the poster, and Kingsley had to take yet another look to make sure his eyes didn't deceive him. "Are you Sirius?" He asked.

Sirius laughed at the pun and clasped his hand on the man's shoulder. "The Ministry would probably give you galleons of bonus to have seen through this change that has come over me." Sirius said, still laughing. "I owe you for keeping me away from them for this long. I know it's been difficult."

Kingsley waved his hand as though it were no bother. "Don't worry about it, I thank you for saying it nonetheless. I've sent them to so many muggle retirement resorts that they're sure you're disguised as an old man. They'll never see this." Kingsley said, pointing from his head to his toes.

"Again, I am grateful. I want to have a dinner at the Headquarters. Please come." He said, extending the invitation to Kingsley. He meant to start celebrating his life and the lives of his friends while they were here; not lamenting them after they had gone. It was a new start to his life.

"I most certainly will!" Kingsley said, and he meant it.

"Thank you!" Sirius cried, laughing again, "I owe you a thousand thanks!" He said. They laughed together like old friends before they parted ways.

Sirius went on and passed chapels and temples. He walked through the streets, watching people as they passed. Never before had he taken such a walk and noticed the things that he had so sorely missed in his life. But instead of looking at them through a sea of regret, he appreciated them for what seemed like the first time. He talked to beggars, patted children on the head, looked in windows and marveled at all of the things that used to make him happy and now again held that power over him. He felt for the first time, alive. It was soon afternoon and he turned his way to his destination.

He passed his own house a dozen times before he could convince himself to make his way to the door. He knew that they would be here. All of them, under the assumption that he was still holed up in his room, spoiling the spirit that they were trying to bring to him. What a surprise they would have. Finally, he plucked up the courage and knocked on his own door.

An ugly face with pointed ears and a scowl on its pug nose peered around the door. When it saw who was there, he rolled his eyes and started on an endless muttering. He opened the door a bit farther and waited very impatiently for the man to walk through.

"Is your Master home?" Sirius asked.

"Master he asks. My mistress is dead, and now poor Kreatcher has to deal with stupid traitor son. Asking dense questions. My mistress would tell him a thing or two." He muttered and then louder for Sirius to hear, "Yes sir."

"Where is everyone?" He asked the house elf, laughing at the disgruntled look he was giving.

"In the dining room, Sir." Kreatcher said. Sirius ignored his muttering and walked to said room. He looked across and saw one of the people he was looking for.

He was at the far side of the room, and the great Black dining room table stretched between them. Molly had already taken pains to set the table, and she was a stickler for perfection when it came to feeding people. And on holidays she did everything the proper way, leaving no room for anything misplaced.

"Harry!" Sirius shouted.

Ginny, sitting in the corner reading and avoiding her mother's constant demands, dropped the book she was reading and gave a startled gasp, not even hearing the man walk into the room. If Sirius had remembered she would be sitting there, he wouldn't have been so loud.

"Sirius?" Harry asked. "What's gotten into you?"

"I've come to have dinner! And make amends for the way I've been acting recently." He said, lowering his head a little bit. "Will you let me sit with you?" He asked, looking up at his Godson.

Harry's face broke into a grin and he crossed the room to hug his Godfather. He almost crushed the man and both were laughing by the time they pulled apart. Soon after, everyone streamed into the dining room. Sirius's good cheer was infectious, and as Remus, Tonks, Fred, George, Arthur and all the rest filed in, they were already engaged in properly decorating the room. They waved their wands around and tried to see who could come up with the gaudiest decorations. Hermione won with a perfect transfiguration of Arthur into a red suit, hat and matching long white beard. Everyone had a good laugh and Arthur kept the garb until Molly walked into the room, trays following her and burst into laughter. She made to yell at Fred and George, but Hermione raised her hand and Molly couldn't get through her laughter to yell.

Sirius was awake early the next morning, dressed and sitting at the table with his morning tea. He had an appointment he had made the night before, and he waited for his visitor with his heart beating faster than usual. He was determined to catch his visitor running late, he was usually the one to keep this man waiting.

And he was right. The man was running late. Nine o' clock passed with not a knock at the door and Sirius smiled to himself. A quarter past and nothing. Eighteen minutes later and there was the sure knock at the door.

He had his cloak off before he made his way into the kitchen. He placed three small vials on the counter and started to shake them. "What do you mean coming in this late?" Sirius said, trying hard to sound like his normal scornful self. It was the next day and he still felt the same as he had the day before. There was no sign of this feeling fading, and if there ever was, he planned to fight it.

"I am sorry, Mr. Black to inconvenience you. I am indeed running late." Severus said, not looking at him.

"You are?" Sirius said, standing at the table, "Yes, I think you are. Look at me Severus." He said.

"It's only once a year, Sirius, and Remus's Wolfsbane potion has a few hours that it can last before he had to take it. I was 'making merry' or whatever it is you people do for the holiday." Severus said in a dry voice; still not looking at Sirius.

"Well, listen my friend," Sirius said. "I'm not going to stand for this for much longer. Therefore," He continued, crossing the room to stand in front of the man, "Therefore, I am offering you my apologies."

Severus stiffened for a moment, then reached in his robes and pulled out his wand. He thought he should hit him with a body binding curse and call for Dumbledore. Sirius had obviously reached a new height to his madness.

"A Merry Christmas, Severus. Merrier than any I have wished you ever before. And I am sorry for that." Sirius clasped his hand on the man's shoulder. Severus winced, expecting some sort of blow to come, but when he looked at the earnest face of the man before him, he saw only the genuineness of the gesture, and the truth in his eyes. He knew that administering veritiserum would yield the same results, but even so, he had to be sure. After all, this was the man who as a child hated him so much that he sought to see him dead. That was something that Severus could not skate over. He looked into Sirius's eyes and still holding his wand said, "Legimens!"

Severus gasped. There was so much floating in here, recent memories floating on the surface, not all fo which could be real. He picked through, finding at last that pattern that all human minds share in very different ways. Each different emotion sang a different tune to him and he listened to it all, seeing what he needed to see, no longer doubting that the words the man was saying were true.

He pulled away, sitting in the nearest chair. This was something that adversely changed the man that he had become. Something that was as deep rooted as childhood, always there was the imminent threat of attack, and here was a mind, previously the in the same mode of thought, suddenly cleared of it. In that place was a chasm, one that Severus dared not cross. It was something otherworldly, and that he dared not tamper with. Whatever it was, it was genuine.

Sirius was true to his word. Things changed in the house on Grimmauld place, no longer was it a tomb, but a place of purpose. Dealings with Sirius became pleasant, and everyone noticed the change in the man. No longer was he secluded, brooding. People came to the house to spend time in his company and the business of the Order changed drastically. Sirius was true to his word, in everything that he did, the spirits lived on in him, and he made all of his following days mean something.

Sirius never again met the Three, but he lived in their lessons for the rest of his days. He was now surrounded by people that he cared for, and who in return cared for him. He had made amends for his past where he was able, lived the present as a changed man, and kept his future from crossing into the wake of his late brother. Remus stayed with him through it, and as Christmas next neared, he reflected on the change in his friend, and the change he had made in the people around him. "Bless us, Every one!"

The End.