True Grey

"Lily and James?" Sirius repeated, stopping in his tracks. "That's not funny at all, Dearborn."

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," replied Dearborn, who had kept on walking. "Just stay out of Rosier's way while Lily's fixing up my foot."

Heart pounding, Sirius stalked after Dearborn, for lack of something better to do. "You're telling me Lily and James are here?" he echoed, waving his arms about him. "They died years ago!"

"Is it so hard to believe?" Dearborn said acidly. "Rosier died years ago as well, but you didn't question his existence while he was holding a gun to your head."

"Don't get wise with me now, Dearborn!"

"Keep your voice down, Black," Dearborn hissed. "I learned the hard way that most residents of this area don't like intruders."

Sirius didn't answer. His mind was reeling faster than ever. Provided that Dearborn wasn't lying, he would soon get to see his best friend for the first time in fifteen years. And he, unlike Dearborn, would be eager to help Sirius find Harry...

"Hey, Sirius."

Sirius's head snapped in the direction of that familiar voice. Through a gap in a hedge he could see her smiling face, her shoulder-length red hair, but he couldn't believe it... Elbowing Dearborn aside, Sirius rushed forward, holding his breath. He stopped right in front of her, looking down at her, unable to say anything.

"James is in the shower," Lily said casually, pulling off a pair of soiled gardening gloves. "He'll want to talk to you when he gets out."

"I'm afraid I need your help again, Lily," Dearborn said. He walked towards the hedge; his limp was heavier than ever, but his face betrayed no pain.

"Oh, hello, Caradoc," Lily said, looking over Sirius's shoulder at him. "I didn't see you at first. What's that bugger done to you now?"

"There's a bullet in my foot," Dearborn replied, as nonchalantly as telling Lily what he wanted for lunch.

Sirius shook his head. He couldn't decide what was the most shocking-- his encounter with Rosier, Dearborn's vast pain threshold, or Lily's presence. The whole day had been so outrageous that Sirius felt stripped of all reality. He was left with nothing but a vague feeling of failure, and of responsibility to his godson.

He turned to Lily, hoping she could help him understand. "You--" he stammered. "Do you--"

But his question was interrupted by the sound of a closing door, and another voice coming down behind him. "All right, Padfoot?"

Sirius knew that voice so well that he was sure it must be 1980 again. He turned slowly, eyes raised expectantly to the source of the voice.

James-- no, Harry in his early twenties-- no, it was James who was standing on the front porch, leaning against the brick wall with his hands in the pockets of his jeans his hair lying flat, for once, weighed down with water.

Sirius would have thought he was fully paralysed, had his mouth not dropped open at the sight of his best friend. With a smile to match her husband's, Lily gently shook Sirius's arm.

"Let's go, Sirius," she said. "We're not used to you being so quiet."

Snapping out of his stupor, Sirius forced his shaking legs down the garden path. James met him at the bottom of the stone porch steps; "Long time no see, Sirius Black," he said.

"James..." Sirius managed to croak.

"You look knackered," James remarked.

"Knackered... yeah... you..."

James and Lily both laughed as Sirius struggled to put together a sentence. Out of the corner of his eye Sirius saw Dearborn watching him disdainfully as Lily and James ushered him into the house. Dearborn was left alone to make quite a show of limping unaided up the steps behind them.

"Have a seat, both of you," Lily said, tossing cushions aside to make room on the sitting-room couch. "I think we should all have a little talk--"

"Thanks, but I'd rather not be present when you break the news to nimrod over here," Dearborn said scornfully.

"What news?" Sirius said quickly.

"And speaking of Black," Dearborn continued, "if you could tear your attention away from his slightly bruised self for just a moment, there's a bullet here that needs removing."

James rolled his eyes and winked at Sirius, who managed to crack a smile in return.

"You two go on in the sitting-room," Lily said. "I'll join you soon enough, though I daresay you two have some things to catch up on."

Dearborn pulled back a chair and took a seat, resting his injured foot on the kitchen table.

Sirius followed James into the next room. Looking around, he realised suddenly that he had last seen this house in ruins, on Halloween fifteen years ago. The walls had collapsed, every light bulb was smashed (Lily had never really got used to reading by candlelight), and the furniture was all broken and splintered. But now, everything was as Sirius remembered from earlier times when he, Remus, and Peter had gone to visit the Potters.

"I like what you've done with the place," Sirius told James absentmindedly.

James grinned. "It was a bit of a fixer-upper, that's for sure."

Sirius laughed out loud-- for the first time, it seemed, since Christmas. "I can imagine." He dropped into a chair, wincing a bit at the ache in his ribs. "So, are you going to--"

"Tell you where Harry is?" James finished his question for him, sitting down on the couch across from him. "Sure, I can."

James closed his eyes, his face contorted with concentration... or was it pain? Grief? Sirius braced himself, expecting the worst...

"Right now," James said, "Harry is in the Hogwarts hospital wing--"

Sirius jumped to his feet and started talking at once. "What's wrong with him? Is he going to be all right? Why--"

"--visiting Ron and Hermione," James finished.

"You-- you mean, he's alive? He's all right?" Sirius said, slowly sitting back down.

"Harry will be just fine," James reassured him, eyeing him amusedly. "You ought to be careful, Sirius. You're not as young as you used to be, and if you keep getting all excited that way you might have a cardiac arrest."

"I'm not that old," he grumbled. Now that James mentioned it, Sirius did feel a little awkward being sixteen years older than his best friend, who had been more like his twin since they were eleven. James, now eternally in the prime of his life, retained the good looks that Azkaban and time had all but drained from Sirius; but the worst part was that Sirius knew James would be sure never to let him forget his mounting age.

As he pondered this, Lily appeared in the doorway. "Caradoc says he'd be content to watch the telly in the other room while we talk to Sirius," she told James, sitting down next to him.

"I'd be content for him to sit his stubborn arse down here, seeing as he's as big a part of this mess as Sirius is," James said. "Oy! Dearborn!"

Dearborn stalked into the sitting-room. He did not take a seat, but stood instead in the corner of the room, arms folded, not troubling to disguise the derisive glower he shot at Sirius. "Let's do this fast," he said to James.

I'd be content for him to remove the stick from his stubborn arse, thought Sirius, smirking at James (who, Sirius could tell from the humour in his eyes, was thinking along the same lines). It dawned on him that he had never once seen Dearborn smile or laugh. The one thing Sirius was sure he could beat Dearborn at was being funny, making anything into a good time. Nothing irked him more than to see Dearborn out-think and out-fight him. And clearly, it was irking Dearborn very much to see James and Lily laughing with the nimrod, ignoring him...

Sirius had finally found a worthy competitor-- there was no doubting Dearborn's skill of mind, gun, wand, and sword. But he would not allow Caradoc Dearborn to strip him of his title of 'Long-Established Genius and Badass'. He would learn to shoot a pistol, practise with a sword, do whatever it took to get revenge on Dearborn for rescuing him, beating him up, and rescuing him again. The indignity of it all...

"...veil in the Department of Mysteries is a sort of artificial death machine," James was saying.

Sirius returned his attention to the conversation. "Is that what happened? I fell through that curtain?"

Lily nodded. "It was your cousin who pushed you through. We-- we watched you two duel, thankfully she didn't use the Killing Curse--"

"Hey, slow down," Sirius interrupted. "What do you mean, you watched me?"

"We're dead, Sirius," James said quietly. "We just have to close our eyes, and we can see anything on earth."

"We're almost always watching Harry," Lily said. Sirius felt a sharp pang of guilt at the mention of his godson. "I just can't get enough of seeing him grow up. But it's terrible, you know, when we see things going wrong."

"We can't do anything to change what happens," James agreed. "We can't even talk to him--"

Dearborn cleared his throat loudly. "So the veil was created to simulate death," he prompted James.

"So that the Ministry could study it," James continued. Sirius glared at Dearborn; he had wanted to talk more about Harry. "It was an invaluable tool. It sent its users to the afterlife, bypassing the more unpleasant symptoms of death. But its creators never did figure out a way to return people who had passed through it."

Sirius felt his skin crawl. "Tell me... tell me somebody else figured it out?"

Lily, James, and Dearborn all shook their heads.

"But that doesn't mean that there is no way to return," Lily said confidently.

Sirius's stomach dropped all the same. "So, I'm stuck... here until somebody solves this, is that it? I just have to stay dead and wait--"

"You're not dead," Dearborn barked. "And neither am I."

Sirius stared at him. "James just said--"

"He and Lily are indeed dead," Dearborn said impatiently. "You and I aren't. It's quite simple."

"I wouldn't go so far as to call it simple, but Dearborn is right. You're still alive, Sirius," James told him. "If you want proof, shut your eyes. You can't see anything, can you? Only the dead can see what's on earth."

Sirius closed his eyes. Through his eyelids, he could still see outlines of the electric lights, but everything else was black. And he definitely couldn't see anything resembling life on earth.

He began to open his eyes, and then thought better of it. His head was pounding, he was confused beyond belief, and he could really use a good sleep...

"Er... Padfoot?" James said.

Sirius grudgingly lifted his eyelids. "I suppose I should be happy that I'm not dead?"

"Harry certainly would be, if he knew," Lily said. "He's--"

"I'll be in the kitchen," Dearborn interrupted loudly, and turned to head for the door.

"Bye, Caradoc," Lily said.

Good riddance, thought Sirius. Even free from Dearborn's distracting glares, he found he didn't have much to say to James and Lily. He tipped his chair onto its two back legs and looked at the ceiling.

"Don't worry, Sirius," Lily told him. "I'm sure we'll find a way to get you out of here."

James reached over and put his hand on Sirius's shoulder. "It's not for nothing that Dumbledore told us we were the brightest in our year."

Sirius let his chair fall forward. "You really think we can do it ourselves?"

James shrugged. "We became Animagi by ourselves, didn't we?"

"Oh, stop it, James, you know you're not alone in this!" Lily said, elbowing him in the ribs.

James turned to face his wife. "I was just thinking that Dearborn might be more of a hindrance than a help, is all," he said. "He and Sirius don't seem to get along too well."

"I noticed," Lily said coolly. "What is it between you two?"

"He's a jealous wanker, is what," Sirius answered loudly enough for his voice to carry through to the kitchen.

"Clearly," James said, even more loudly than Sirius, "it's a clash of two egos, both bigger than Snape's nose." He lowered his voice. "Not to mention he resents that you're my best friend."

"Told you he was a jealous--"

"Jealous or no," Lily said hastily, "we need him to help us understand what's going on. And we can get Ben Fenwick, and the Prewetts and Dorcas Meadowes--"

"Hold on, Lily," Sirius said. "I still don't understand how this concerns Dearborn."

"Remember all those years ago, when Dumbledore told us Dearborn was missing, assumed dead?" said James. "Turns out he wasn't quite dead. Some Death Eater captured him and threw him through the veil. It's a bit of a sore spot for him, doesn't like to talk about it much."

"So he's been here since then, and he still hasn't found a way out?" Sirius shouted. "What the bloody hell has he been doing the last decade and a half? Bollocks, at that rate I'll get back in time to save Harry's grandchildren, if I'm lucky!"

James laughed, but Lily said, "Get yourself together, Sirius. Dearborn told me he hadn't spent any time at all looking into an escape. He's not like you. He doesn't need to get revenge, he doesn't have a godson and friends to go back to."

This didn't surprise Sirius at all. Of all the Gryffindors in his year, it had been Dearborn who had preferred to keep to himself. He wasn't interested in playing Quidditch, taunting Snape, pulling pranks, or sneaking out of school. He had been the quiet one, the shy one. Even during his years in the Order of the Phoenix, he had never taken to socialising. It was to be expected, then, that he would be short of friends even after his years at Hogwarts.

But never, not in a million years, would Sirius have predicted what Dearborn would become. His brains must have been silently growing, his body secretly strengthening all those years, until he became such a force that he was named one of Voldemort's top targets.

Dearborn was sort of frightening, really, although Sirius would never admit it. He was graced with an intimidating appearance-- short, black, slicked back hair, thick eyebrows, sideburns reaching below his earlobes, tanned skin, and dark eyes that gave the impression that he was wearing sunglasses. Sirius could never really tell what was going on in Caradoc Dearborn's mind. Only one thing was for certain: he wasn't a nice man.

Looking at Lily now, Sirius threw his hands in the air.

"Whatever," he muttered. "I don't really get Dearborn, but what's it to me?"

Lily smiled. "That's the spirit. And about Harry..."

"Yes, about Harry," Sirius spoke up, glad for a change of subject.

"He's not in immediate danger," James said. "There's no need for you to rush off to save anyone, be it him or his grandchildren."

Sirius exhaled slowly. "Are you sure he's all right?"

"Positive."

"What's he doing right now?"

Lily closed her eyes, and for a while said nothing. The laughter drained from her face until all that was left was a sad smile. James looked at her, concerned, and then closed his own eyes. Wrinkles formed in his forehead as he furrowed his brows.

"What is it?" Sirius asked anxiously. "What's wrong?"

Lily looked at him. "Nothing's wrong...."

"Tell me what he's doing, Lily!"

She hesitated, but James laughed softly. "You don't want to mess with that temper, Lily."

"Fine." Lily looked sadder than ever. "You tell him, then."

James turned to Sirius. "Harry's sitting by the lake. By himself."

"It's the last weekend of the term," Sirius said slowly. "Why isn't he with Ron and Hermione?"

James sighed. "He'd rather be with you right now, Sirius. You meant a lot to him."

Sirius's eyes widened. "He's thinking about me? He really misses me that much?"

"And he's not the only one. Moony's in a right state, as well."

Sirius covered his face with his hand. "Shit," he mumbled through his fingers. "I've got to get back to them."

James clapped him on the back. "It can wait for tomorrow, can't it? We've done enough for today. Just take it easy for now, and tonight we'll send you off to Dearborn's--"

"What?" Sirius shouted. "Why do I have to go to his place?"

Lily spoke up. "When Caradoc got shoved through the veil, he landed in... whatever you want to call the place you are right now. He's still alive, you see, and some of those who are truly dead took exception to him right from the start. So he left, and built himself a house far away from other people."

Sirius groaned silently. It was just like Dearborn to live like a hermit-- and to expect Sirius to do the same.

"It's not safe for you to stay here," James said. "Just stick it out, please?"

Sirius exhaled forcefully, blowing his hair out of his face. "Only for you, Prongs, mate," he said resignedly. "Only for you."