So, originally this was a oneshot, but I thought it cruel to leave it there. So now its a threeshot. Enjoy! The last chapter is coming soon.

Departure

The Death Chamber was as deserted as always. The air was cold and stale, the veil fluttering in a nonexistent wind. Death whispered words in his ears and he knew that the veil was not a one way trip to Death's twilight kingdom*. The voices there were the voices of those on the other side, whispers from beings not of this world. The only reason he and Luna could hear so clearly was because they had an intimate relationship with other worlds. Luna, with the world of the future and alternate planes, and Harry because he was the chosen of Death.

It was an easy decision to make, going through the veil. Death hissed at him to try because he might find what he was missing most. Because in another world, he might get the chance to have all that he wanted. He would always be Death's favoured, but if he passed through he could be happy and live normally, die normally.

Isn't that all he wanted? Death wanted nothing but the best for him, never pushed him. Death rasped information and facts and suggestions, his voice never rising above a whisper, always as toneless as wind in dried grass. Yet, under that hollow voice, there was fondness, curiosity and something else. Sympathy, perhaps?

Your godfather. I could take you to him. He is on the verge of death, Death rasped, intangible and wisp-like next to his body.

Harry sucked in a breath of surprise. Sirius. He had to make a decision now or Sirius would be gone. It was easy. He had nothing left to live for here, after all. He didn't age, while everyone else did. He didn't, couldn't, move on. Not without this.

Gold is valuable. Pack your gold, Death had told him, Your gold, your wand, your cloak and your stone. You need nothing more. I shall guide you.

So here he was, in front of the veil with a trunk full of gold. The rest, he had asked the goblins to give to his friends and family. The Elder Wand sat in his pocket, peaceful, and never to start another bloody conflict again. The cloak settled on his shoulders, rendering him invisible to the world. The stone was heavy and cool in his hands, no longer cracked.

Harry turned the onyx stone thrice, closing his eyes.

Go on, my son. We may not be able to pass over with you, but Death spans all kingdoms and we shall meet again one day, Lily urged, eyes loving.

We shall forever be behind you, Harry. We will always support you, James added, grinning.

You deserve your peace, Harry, and if this is how you can achieve it, so be it, Remus told him, gentle and kind as always.

If it makes any difference, Harry, I apologize. My actions destroyed the peace in your life. You have the right to do whatever you wish. Don't let me or anyone else hold you back. It's the next great adventure, after all, Dumbledore encouraged, sorrowful but smiling.

Then Harry looked to the last person and his breath caught. "But you're not dead, right? Why… Why can you come to me now, and how did you come to me back in the forest? How did you die? Are you already gone? Do I not make it in time?" His tone was worried and he frowned at the spectre.

Sirius grinned back at him. Sorry, kiddo, that's confidential. I can't give away your future. Death is timeless though, especially when crossing from one world to another. Now go out there and live your life the way you want to. Carpe Diem and all that, right? Let me tell you this though: you and I are going to be so epic together!

Harry grinned back, reassured, and walked forwards, into the veil.

He hated magical travel. And now he had one to top the list of Ways I Hate Travelling The Most.

The veil was number one, no doubt.

At first, it was okay. It was like losing all feeling and just becoming numb to everything. But then, it was like being stuffed into a washing machine and going for a couple of rounds before being spat out so abruptly because you could suddenly feel again. It was jarring and uncomfortable in the most unexplainable of ways. He had to take a moment to just breathe before he could orient himself enough to stand up. He grabbed his trunk, which was right beside him and was glad for the feather-light charm on it. There was no one else around him, no one he could see at least.

The whispers of Death were absent for a moment before steadily increasing in volume again until he could hear the words clearly.

That way, my Master, can you feel the pull?

Harry could feel the pull. A slight tugging sensation that he knew, instinctively would lead him to Sirius. It was getting stronger the more Sirius' lifeforce faded and Harry quickly took off at a run.

He was the alleyways of wherever this place was and the alleyways swerved and twisted, but the pull seemed to know which ways to go, like some sort of magical GPS system.

A few homeless people looked up curiously as he ran by, but he was otherwise ignored.

It took a while to get out, but the pull eventually led him to a deserted road. He looked around, unable to see Sirius in the dim light of twilight, until a whimper caught his attention.

There!

A black mass on the ground, trembling and bleeding. Harry's expression turned horrified as he took in the damage done to Sirius. He pull was urgent now, telling him to hurry, hurry, or else Sirius would die. He sprinted to the fallen canine, Sirius' name on his lips.

"Sirius!"

Sirius had lost a lot of blood, but he was now stable. He probably wouldn't wake up for a while. Under Death's guidance, Harry had managed to retrieve the bullet and heal up the most fatal part of the wound, but anything more superficial would have to be taken care of by a hospital. The abilities he had gained as Death's master only helped him stabilize people and bring them back from the edge of precipice called death, not heal all the smaller injuries.

It had given him the time to sell some of his gold galleons to pay for a trip to the hospital, only after using his wand to coax Sirius back into human form though. Unfortunately, he didn't know all that much healing magic.

Now, however, he had to go and find them permanent living arrangements as well as identification. He had managed to fool the hospital staff with a confoundus, but that wouldn't always work. And even if Sirius could stay as a dog, he couldn't stay that way forever; he had already been admitted to the hospital as a human, never mind the effect it might have on his mind.

Luckily, Harry had magic on his side. He used it to give them birth certificates, IDs, Passports, citizenships, emancipation papers (he was documented as being sixteen in this world and looked the part despite living for thirty five years), etc.. Death, of course, talked him through it since Harry didn't actually know how to do it. If anyone found any problems with it, well, they'd cross that bridge when they get there, but confoundus charms were good, as were memory charms. Harry did feel a little guilty about using them on unsuspecting muggles, but the lack of a magical world and therefore magical law enforcement was a big decider for him.

He sold the rest of his galleons steadily over the next two months, depositing the majority of the money in his newly opened bank account. He had enough to last him and Sirius quite a while, twenty years or so with money set aside for schooling, not including interest, after buying a nice flat in central London. Renovations would have to be made, but with a little magic it should go perfectly. He did not want a house in the suburbs nor did he want a house where everything was overly peaceful and isolated. Though he would like a normal life, he would also like a life with a social life. He didn't want to live in a place like the Dursleys had either.

He would have to get a job eventually, of course, but he needed to finish his education first. He hadn't been able to start his education since he was too busy catching up on recent events. (Something about a Sherlock Holmes who had returned from dead with his name cleared after two years of being discredited was the most interesting. It reminded him of himself)

Now, all he needed was for Sirius to wake up.

Harry had been pushing life magic into Sirius for about an hour a day for two months before the older man woke up. Harry was, of course, at his side immediately after hearing the soft groan.

"Sirius, you've woken up!" he cheered, quietly. Death had gone silent by his ear, not wanting to disturb the moment.

"H-Harry…?" was the first thing out of the older man's mouth as he blinked rapidly and turned his head to look at Harry.

"That's right, Sirius. I'm here."

Sirius groaned again, closing his eyes tightly before opening them again. "Did I die?" he rasped.

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Of course not. You're in a hospital right now Sirius."

"Right, if I had died my head wouldn't hurt like this," the animagus decided. He blinked again, staring at Harry for a moment, not seeming to full realize the implications of such a sight. Then he shot up, eyes wide, with a cry of Harry's name. Of course, he groaned in pain immediately after and slumped back down. "Ow, my head…"

Harry was torn between frantically worrying and laughing. Should Sirius be so energetic after just waking up from a two month long coma induced by excessive blood loss?

He shall be fine. It is thanks to what you have been doing that he can be this healthy this quickly, Death reassured.

"Take it easy, Sirius. You've only just woke up from a two month long coma. You lost a lot of blood," Harry informed the other with a soft smile.

"Oh, well that makes sense…" Sirius frowned for a moment before his eyes went wide again. He sat up, slower this time and looked at Harry, really looked. "Oh Merlin," came the whisper of awe, "Harry."

"Hey, Sirius," Harry replied with a grin, accepting a sudden hug from his godfather.

"H-Harry!" Sirius squeezed him before letting him go and holding him by te shoulders. Grey eyes drank in every detail they could. "How…?"

"Well, Sirius, the answer to that is a long, long story," Harry replied to the unfinished question with a smile.

Sirius cracked his own grin. "I'm sure we have time."

Sirius was pretty shaken and shocked a Harry's tale. Harry had told him about becoming the Master of Death, about not being able to age, about Death whispering into his ear and telling him that the veil was no portal to his kingdom, about how Harry had made the decision to come and leave behind his belongings to his friends and family, about finding him. It was a while before Sirius responded, and when he did, it was pretty unexpected.

"Harry!" Sirius had suddenly burst out with, startling the younger man. "When you got there, did you see a short man with blonde hair and a moustache?" His expression was serious – excuse the pun – and his eyes intense.

Harry blinked once before shaking his head. "No, sorry, Sirius."

Sirius sighed and frowned. "I can't believe I forgot about that." He glanced at Harry. "I found a, well, owner – don't laugh, Harry, I can tell you are – and he was taking me for a walk. Yes, a walk, don't look at me like that… Then we were attacked, I was shot, but, obviously, he was the target."

Harry's expression had changed from hiding a grin to solemn and frowning. "So, he was taken?"

"Probably, I blacked out not soon after…" Sirius murmured quietly, worried.

"We'll go and see if he's okay once you're okay Sirius."
Sirius looked up with wild, wide eyes. "But if he's not, it'd be my fault! I was there and tried to protect him and-"

"And got shot for it," Harry interrupted firmly, "It's not your fault, just as it isn't his fault that you were shot. While you're here feeling guilty, he must be feeling even worse since it was due to him you were shot. Blaming yourself isn't going to help, Sirius. I've done it to myself enough times to know."

Sirius sighed and looked down. "Yeah, I suppose you're right, Harry," he conceded before looking up at Harry with wide, imploring eyes. "Can we get out of here though, please? I hate being trapped here!"

Harry chuckled. "You've only been here one day Sirius, well, awake, that is."

"It's already bo-ring!" Sirius huffed, pouting.

Harry grinned. "Just like me then. Why don't you tell me what you've been up to?"

Sirius' eyes lit up and he began to recount his tale…

That night, Harry and Sirius checked themselves out, Sirius having persuaded Harry to do a few memory and confoudnus charms. The first thing Sirius did was get a newspaper and breath a sigh of relief when he saw John and Sherlock on it, not dead and having done something amazing again. They retrieved Sirius' wand, which was buried under an oak tree which Sirius had, um, scent marked repeatedly. Sirius dug it out and happily carried it in his jaws to Harry's amusement and disgust. Harry then led Sirius to their new flat in central London, to which Sirius expressed his approval.

"Nice," the animagus commented, "It's very homely"

"You should thank the interior designers I hired. I had no part in the designing of this," Harry scratched the back of his head. "I'm not all that artsy. I only gave basic requirements, but, yeah, they did great."

When Harry had first taken a look, the flat was barren and dull. Harry chose it because it had two bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen. It wasn't too big, but had enough space for furniture and free movement and, last but not least, a dog. The fireplace was the deal breaker though. Also, despite being a three-storey flat, Harry had bought the entire thing, therefore it was just them there for the moment. Harry was thinking of renting out two floors for a lowered price to university students or something.

"Well, it's great anyhow," Sirius reaffirmed. "What was the address again?"

"239 Baker Street*."

Sirius frowned, wondering why it seemed familiar. Then it hit him. His eyes widened. Baker Street. That was where Holmes and John lived! They lived at 221B though and John had moved out after Sherlock's 'death', but he suspected that Sherlock would've moved back in by now. After all, it was his flat and he wasn't dead. Sirius grinned and turned around, grabbing onto Harry's shoulders.

"Holmes lives near doesn't he?"

Harry experienced a moment of confusion before it cleared up. He smiled, still a little befuddled at Sirius' reaction. Oh god, being here hadn't turned him into some sort of fanboy, had it? "Well, yeah, I think so. He's the detective guy who came back to life, right?"

Sirius nodded enthusiastically. "Yup, that's right! And guess who I stayed with as a dog!"

"Um, Holmes?" Harry guessed, slightly overwhelmed at Sirius' behaviour.

"Nope! John Watson!"

"And… that is…?"

"Holmes' BFF of course!"

Harry paused to examine Sirius' excited and hopeful face before answering.

"Like, Best Friends Forever?"

"Yes! Let's go visit!" Sirius turned to run out, but Harry quickly stopped him, seeing a flaw in his reckless behaviour. Of course, Harry was pretty reckless as well, often not seeing the flaws in his plans (when he had one), but he could see this one as a bystander.

"Sirius, wait!" he called, "Why do you want to go so eagerly?"

The older man turned back, almost vibrating with nervous anticipation. "Oh, well, he was the guy I wanted to check up on. You know, I told you about him in the hospital."

"Oh, well, shouldn't you visit him as a dog then? He wouldn't recognize you as a human."

Sirius froze and then deflated and sulked as he stomped back to the sofa. "Never thought about that. It's not like I can just walk up there, ring the doorbell and go, 'hi, remember that dog you met on the train and then talked to before you went and committed suicide? Yeah, that was me!'"

Harry grinned. "What I wouldn't give to see the look on his face if you did. Don't worry, We'll find a way." Sirius suddenly smirked, which made alarm bells ring in Harry's head. Having heard of Sirius' exploits in school as a part of the Marauders, he knew that the mischief in that smirk couldn't bode well. He eyed Sirius carefully. "What are you scheming…?"

Sirius leaned forwards on the sofa, steepling his hands in front of him. "You know how there's no Ministry of Magic here, yes?"

Harry nodded, settling a narrow-eyed gaze on the other.

"Well…"

*Death's twilight kindom is a reference to the poem, The Hollow Men.

*239 Baker Street is the location of the Sherlock Holmes Museum.