Note From the Author: I do not own Harry Potter, I just enjoy playing in the sandbox. I make no promises and will tell you no lies. Currently this story is being edited and no new chapters will be added. I do have another fanfiction you may enjoy, called Love Dad.

Home is Where the Heart Is

Part One - Live More

The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. We have all got both light and dark inside of us. What matters is the power we choose to act on. That's who we really are.

—Sirius Black—

Chapter 1: Through The Veil

It was the last moment. The last time... for everything.

He felt three things before darkness claimed him: Love, Loss, and Regret.

He could have floated in that colorless void for seconds or a billion years. He had no sense of time passing. He just was. And he was not. But his voice wouldn't leave him alone. He wanted to float in this bubble of nothing.

But he wouldn't be ignored.

"Come now, Padfoot, time to wake up! You're dead and you've made a bloody mess of things!" The yelling man growled in frustration, and then pain lanced through Sirius's skull, causing his bubble of nothing to burst—and he screamed like a girl.

"Owww! That's my hair!" Leaping to his feet instinctively, he came face to face with his tormentor. Gray eyes met hazel, and Sirius's further protests died on his lips as he stared in shock at his best mate. His adopted brother.

"…J-James?" Sirius's voice was a broken whisper. It was a trick! A new form of torture. Guilt at his failures and thoughts of Harry almost drove him to his knees, but James was there, his strong arms holding him up.

"Oh, God… Harry."

"Harry is fine. He's fine, Sirius. He's... okay. He's sad. He's blaming himself. But you have a chance to fix this! You can change all of it. Or maybe just the worst parts of it. Please, Sirius!" James was begging now. "You have to go back!"

"Right!" Sirius straightened and took his first look around. All he could see was gray mist. The only color was himself and James, who was watching him anxiously.

"Uhm…" Sirius, always ready to leap into danger, was lost. "What is this place?" Subconsciously gripping his wand tighter, he pointed it outward and moved protectively closer to his friend.

"Well, Heaven is as good a description as any, I suppose." James's Marauder smile came out to play, a smile that tore into Sirius's heart.

"It's kinda bland for Heaven, don't you think? Boring?" He shrugged a bit and then dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "How do I get back to Harry?" Sirius asked, looking for the arched doorway that had brought him to this barren landscape.

"You, my friend, are different," James stated. Sirius lifted a brow and smirked, but before he could come up with a smart-ass reply, James cut across his thoughts by saying, "You have a physical body."

Sirius blinked at him. "You don't exactly look like a ghost, Prongs. I mean, you feel pretty real to me." And maybe because he needed reassurance that James really was standing right in front of him and he wasn't dreaming, he poked him in the ribs.

James chuckled and shook his head. "No. This body is my new body. You still got your old one. You came through the veil, Sirius."

Sirius nodded, not getting the significance. What did it matter how you died? Dead was dead, though he didn't feel much different from before the veil.

"Okay?" Sirius frowned. "And?"

James sighed. "And that makes you different. Not completely unique, of course. Others have come through the veil, so we have some understanding of the phenomenon. It means you get to break the rules because you already are breaking the rules. You shouldn't be here… like this." James tried to explain. "Most people, when they die, leave their bodies behind. Their spirits arrive, and they get new bodies. Mostly bodies that look a lot like themselves, but during the prime of their lives. Sometimes there are differences. Like, I have all my hair and it's not so messy." He struck a noble pose. "And my eyesight is perfect, but I don't feel right without the glasses."

His expression darkened, and he opened up a pocket watch that magically appeared in his hand. The watch was simple but carried the weight of history in its craftsmanship. Slightly dented from years of use, the Potter family crest was engraved on the cover, surrounded by Gryffindor's colors. A stag and a lion stood proud, while a griffin watched over them. And at the center of it all was a pot with a phoenix rising from it, an old symbol tracing back to the Peverell family. On the bottom, the family motto was carefully etched: Novissima autem inimica destruetur mors.

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

Sirius remembered the day James had received it. He could still see Fleamont Potter presenting it to his son on his seventeenth birthday, his voice filled with pride.

James sighed and said, "It's Harry. He's destroying Dumbledore's office."

Sirius's eyes widened, and he crowded next to James to get a better look at the watch. He gasped as he recognized Harry—a grieving, angry, violent Harry. Sirius felt his stomach drop at the horrible pain his godson must be feeling, for him to completely trash the headmaster's office. Once again, he felt guilt at his monumental failure.

"I need a drink."

"There's a pub not far from here. Come on." James turned and started walking, and Sirius looked around again. Perhaps he could just make out a few large shapes. It reminded him of an impressionist painting. Gray on Gray or something. He hurried after his friend, suddenly afraid to be left alone in this sterile and empty world.

James glanced over his shoulder and matched his pace to the war-weary wizard beside him. "I'm sorry you went to Azkaban," James said. "The problem with being dead is, you can't change any of it. You just get to watch. It's quite painful, really." He shook his head. "I hate that more than anything. You didn't fail us, Sirius. I did that all on my own. You told us we should leave Europe, change our names, and go into hiding. I thought you were being paranoid." He sighed. "We both trusted the wrong person."

James glanced at Sirius and was surprised to see tears streaming down his friend's face.

"Sirius?" James placed his hand on his friend's shoulder and could feel him shaking with emotion.

Sirius shook his head and then drew James into a hard hug that said everything. James understood, and the two friends held each other for a long moment.

Finally pulling away, Sirius swiped away the tears and said, "Now, where did you say that pub was? All I see is bloody gray."

James slapped his forehead and said, "Sorry, mate. I forgot to tell you. This place will become whatever you want it to become. Not unlike Harry's Room of Requirement." He grinned boyishly. "Brilliant, really." James leaned into Sirius's side and gave him the magical key, and said, "I see Diagon Alley."

The moment James mentioned the famous landmark, it was as if a wind blew in and drove away all the gray, and color bloomed around them, as well as noise. Witches and wizards passed by, some making eye contact, nodding good day, or smiling. A few kept their heads down, intent on business rather than being neighborly.

Sirius flashed a curious glance toward James, who preened a bit. "I am quite the world-builder. The place... likes me. And makes others endure the chaos that is yours truly."

Sirius digested this for a moment before barking out a laugh. "Leave it to you, Prongs, to suck up to heaven."

A/N This story will be getting edited - This chapter has been edited as of 2/10/25. Thank you for your patience if you have been waiting for updates.