A dozen, hundred, thousand voices spoke to him at the same time. It was impossible to make out anything comprehensible, it sounded mostly like the calming rumble emitting from the Quidditch pitch during a game.

For a while he believed he was high up on his broom, the wind in his hair and just about dodging a particular nasty bludger. He heard his friends, cheering him on, he saw the blurred silhouette of the redhead he had assigned as one of his Chasers zoom past him.

Then he stood in his regular Muggle clothes in Sirius' childhood home, in front of the tapestry displaying the Black family.

Sirius had taken him here exactly once, but it had been enough to etch into his memory. Harry's heart stopped when he saw the rugged and tired man, still recovering from his brief imprisonment in Azkaban, gazing upon the tapestry, swiping his hand over the charred spot his name once had stood.

This wasn't a memory, for right outside the door had Hermione stood and waited anxiously for him, now there was no one throwing him longing gazes and smiles from the edge of the door frame.

"Why so glum, James?" Sirius turned to him, an arrogant smirk in the corner of his mouth.

It was really him, Harry gasped quietly. Chills ran through his body. As though he had never died, he stood there, unharmed and alive, breathing.

But if he had to be here, then… "Am I dead?" Harry swallowed.

Sirius frowned, turning his head ever so slightly. "Now, why would you think that?"

Harry scoffed. After all of this, after all this time, Sirius acted like no time at all had passed.

"So this is all in my head?"

Sirius grimaced, his head bobbed back and forth, eyes fixed on something above him. "If you want it to be in your head—"

"I don't", interrupted Harry.

Grinning, Sirius looked at him. "Then what are you on about?"

Harry let out an annoyed sigh, his patience wearing thin.

"Sirius, you once told me… you once told me…"

Harry clenched his jaw, growling silently at his inability to get across what he wanted.

Sirius waited patiently. "Yes, Harry?"

"With great power comes great responsibility. It's… a lie – all along it has been a lie."

Cautiously, Sirius observed him, telling him to be very careful by just looking at him.

The anger Harry felt brimmed at the edges of his ribcage, in his throat. His breath became hastier, more frustrated, and he just wanted to scream at Sirius for looking at him that way, judging him without saying a word.

"No matter what people tell me, I will always be… broken. One way or another, my anger finds a way to take over and people get hurt. And I'm afraid my powers will cause more havoc, get more people killed."

A white thunderbolt cracked deep in his mind, lighting up the fuzzy image of aunt Petunia's body lying in the muddy sand, this time much more intense than just minutes ago.

"What if it goes so far I stop being in control, what then?"

"Harry", said Sirius gravely, one of his hands resting on Harry's shoulder. "How many times have we had this conversation? You're not broken. You're a good person, capable of love! Capable of controlling yourself!"

"Controlling myself never worked out", said Harry in a low voice. "It just turns into something much worse, something terrible. Lately I've felt these waves of pure anger, people almost die because of it, even if they deserve it. How does that make me better than those I'm fighting?"

Sirius inched himself closer, both of his hands gripping his shoulders with a persistent look in his eyes.

"Listen to me, Harry. You're a man, a man with feelings and emotions! You've got great gifts, Harry – no, not just your powers, but also your heart and mind.", Sirius nodded at him. "The person in there. You're more than that sodding costume you put on."

"I don't need a lecture", growled Harry between his teeth and tore himself from Sirius' hands, his feet steering him into a half-circle around the room before he stopped.

Sirius observed him curiously for a while.

Harry kept pacing, racking his head. He had no idea what to think, what to feel. It was all just chaos, thoughts jumbled together into a mess and some of those thoughts he didn't even recognize.

"Then focus on what makes you happy, what makes you keep going", Sirius finally said.

The first thing coming to Harry's mind was his friends and family. The woman that now was his wife.

Sure that was part of it, of course… but it wasn't all.

Harry stopped pacing, lowering his head. He felt lost, not sure what to even believe. Or what to do.

Lost.

Peter's words echoed spookily in the back of his head, on the day they had met. "I got bitter. I stopped pulling my punches and got reckless and someone else got killed. I've been lost ever since and the only thing getting me out of bed every day is the people that are still relying on me. On Spider-Man."

Harry raised his head, staring Sirius down. The words spurred him on, truly making him feel the blood pumping in his veins.

He swallowed, his mouth dry.

"Because I—I know how it feels to be powerless, feeling hopeless, like the world doesn't care about you. I'd like to think, just for a moment, that Spider-Man give people hope, and that at the end of the day everything will be okay."

He hadn't noticed, but his fists were clenched and shaking, his nails digging into his palms.

"I fight for them. Spider-Man fights for them, and to keep the people I care about, safe."

Sirius had all this time looked at him in silence. An admiring grin spread across his uncle's face.

"Noble. And arrogant. Like James."

Harry shrugged half-heartedly with one and a half shoulder. "A little bit, yeah." The grin on Sirius' face grew.

With slow steps, Harry closed the distance between them once again.

"So, with that out of the way, how's life?" said Sirius. He leaned nonchalantly against the tapestry-wall.

Harry stared at him.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, inquiring to know. "No – tell me, how's life? How are you? How are your friends?"

Scoffing, Harry leaned next to him. "Trying to do better, I guess. Tried selling pictures of Spider-Man, that didn't go so well. I got smacked around by a burning monster around Hogwarts, I uh… married Hermione", his face burned at Sirius' wolf whistle, followed immediately by a boyish grin.

"You know, you two were worse than a pair of owls", groaned Sirius, Harry laughed sarcastically. "Always fluttering around each other, not one moment went without you were up to mischief."

Harry grimaced, glancing on his hand; the black ring that usually sat on his finger was missing.

"Plenty of space for mischief in this place", said Harry, giving the room a quick look.

Sirius poorly attempted to hide his glee.

He remembered those moments with Hermione during the Holiday break of their fifth year, which they had decided to spend along with everyone else in Grimmauld Place.

At the time it had been Order's Headquarters and even if Sirius despised the place, no one could argue it wasn't a safer location than aunt Petunia's apartment.

Him and Hermione at the time probably could rival the Weasley's in their ways, but it was so long ago it felt like someone else that had spent most, if not all of his waking day up to no good.

"You?" Harry turned his head to his uncle.

Sirius shrugged, grimacing. "What is there to say? Well, I'm back with your aunt now, so can't complain."

Harry froze, his stomach dropped. "She's here?"

"Not really – it's complicated", said Sirius and did a spiraling gesture with his hand in the air. "Reality breaking and all that. Only reason this is possible, you know. Or who knows, maybe it is all in your head."

Harry made a strange kind of half-nod, showing that he understood but he really did not.

Sirius patted his shoulder. "Good talk, nephew. Unless all of that talk about fighting were just words, I'd suggest you hurry and get back."

Harry watched him push himself away from the wall, his feet about to head for the closest door.

No. He had just got him back – he couldn't leave.

"Sirius", prompted Harry, Sirius stopped and turned around.

"Yes, Harry?"

Harry smiled, but tears were going down his face. He tried to stop them, but when he did it was too late and he was sobbing. "I'm going to miss both of you." The words were nothing but blubbering, but Sirius somehow understood.

Sirius smiled sadly. "Don't. We'll be with you Harry. Your parents, your aunt and me. In here." He tapped on his chest, pointing to his heart. "Always. No matter what. Remember that Harry, remember that."

A.N: I wanted to give Sirius the proper farewell he deserves for this series of fanfics, even if it took place in – you know what, you come to your own conclusion. Sirius is also a character that felt super underutilized, even in the books, and I understand now why he's so beloved.

Because with great power comes great… charm. Or something.