Author's notes: WOW! I've never had this much feedback for any story before, and that's saying something!!

Now, I'll go through my list of people to thank for reviewing ::shuffles papers:: Thank you to: Delie, songelf88 and G.H.S. the warg, Alex Black, Coward in the Shadows, I love Snuffles (And I love That Name ^_^) Queen Beth, and Terra. You guys were sOoOoOoOo nice in reviewing, and you were really nice with what you said.

I'm sorry I've taken so long to update.....I don't even know if I can blame it on a writer's block ^_^ .

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Sirius started drifting away after that. He had no idea how he was supposed to tell what his next assignment was. He soon found himself back in the Department of Mysteries.

There were few people there even in the daytime. He drifted through all the walls, not wanting to have to deal with trying to find the right door. When he reached the veil, he looked around for a moment, before slowly brushing it aside.

It didn't look like what he had expected. It was not part of Heaven, and not Limbo. . . . . . . . . or not what he had seen. It just looked like a normal room. It was large and circular, like the other one, and the manner in which it was constructed made him think of the collessium: each stair down lead all the way around the room, and there were a good twenty stairs. Sirius had a strange feeling that the stairs were commonly used as benches. The room itself was lit brightly with torches, which gave a yellowy glow. Along the stone walls hung thousands upon thousands of portraits of people, all chatting quietly.

"Hello," one of them said. "Are you looking for yourself?"

"M-myself?" Sirius said, looking confused.

"Yeah!" said another. "It's right there!" It pointed down to the middle of the room.

Sirius twirled around and looked down. There, lying on one of the last steps, was his own body, already smelling from decay.

"You would have lived . . . . . . . ." one of the portraits said, somewhat evilly. "Had you not broken your neck!" This brought a round of laughter from several portraits.

"Oh shut up!" A woman yelled, smacking the edge of her frame. "Listen," she said. "If you are looking for your portrait, it's on the other wall, there."

Sirius drifted over, carefully avoiding looking at his body. On the opposite wall, his portrait sat looking bored and annoyed. "When did somebody paint this?" he asked, quietly.

"They didn't," said a little girl. "They appear when the subject dies, and it somebody wants it for a hall or something, they come to the Ministry. They have a way of reaching it without crossing the veil."

"Of course, not many people know that stuff."

"That's 'cause they're a bunch of numbskulls," Sirius' portrait grumbled. Sirius smiled.

"Can portraits outside of this room see me?" Sirius aske.

"Only if they were created here," his portrait answered. "Mum can't."

"Cool. . . . . . . . . . ."

"Yeah, say that to the body you stair at twenty-four seven," his portrait snapped.

"That means . . . . . . . . . ." Sirius paused. "That means that I can commmunicate to the living world *through other portraits*!"

"Wouldn't count on them cooroperating," somebody said.

However, Sirius wasn't listening. He had drifted back through the veil, hurrying to try out the concept.