"You're the Gatekeeper," James answered carefully. "You're evil."
"Yes, yes," the figure said, waving a hand impatiently. "But besides all of that. I have loads of names other than that one, you know. There is one that I am particularly fond of. I think it'll amuse you."
James shook his head, feeling increasingly cautious. "I don't know what you mean."
"Then let me illuminate you, James," the Gatekeeper said, suddenly approaching James and dropping to one knee. It looked closely at him, its eyes sparkling mischievously. "James, my boy, do you remember the story? The one your friend Ralph regaled you with in Wizard Literature class? You do, don't you?"
James nodded, perplexed. "Sure, but I don't see…"
"You don't see because you don't look!" the Gatekeeper interrupted. It lowered its voice and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "I, James, am the King of the Cats!"
James backed away as fear tingled up his back.
"Think about it," the Gatekeeper insisted, standing again and following him. "I sit at the base of the steps, Lord Guardian of the doorway between the living and the dead! I determine who passes through the Void, who proceeds into the Everlasting! And, I might add, I am also the Lord of… who comes back!"
The Gatekeeper deftly snapped its fingers. Another pool of light appeared and James couldn't help glancing at it. A figure was climbing to its feet in the pool of light, looking around in surprise and wonder. James gasped and his heart leapt.
"Grandfather…," he said, taking a step forward.
"James!" Arthur Weasley said, laughing a little. "What are you doing at the Ministry? And what in the world was I doing on the floor? I must have tripped, clumsy me."
"Grandfather!" James exclaimed, moving to run to him, but the Gatekeeper placed a hand on James' shoulder, stopping him.
"You cannot touch him, James," the Gatekeeper said sorrowfully. "Not yet. Perhaps in time."
"But how…," James cried.
Arthur Weasley tilted his head and smiled crookedly at James. "Is this part of your grandmother's secret design?" he asked. "It is, isn't it? I know she's been planning some sort of surprise party. She's never been able to fool me, although I let her believe she can, the dear. Where's everyone else?"
"He cannot see me," the Gatekeeper said, looking back at Arthur. "Those that pass through never do."
"Are… are you real?" James stammered, giddy excitement welling inside him. "Is it really you, Grandfather?"
"What kind of question is that, James?" Arthur said, looking around. "Where are we, anyway? This isn't the Ministry after all. I have to admit, I'm rather dumbfounded. Did I get off at the wrong grate on the Floo Network?"
"No, Grandfather!" James cried. "You're… you had a—"
"Shh," the Gatekeeper said. "Don't tell him."
"Why are you doing this?" James suddenly demanded, looking up at the robed entity before him. "That can't really be my grandfather! He's dead!"
"Death is just a doorway," the Gatekeeper replied, shrugging. "You never knew that it was a two-way door. You love your grandfather, do you not?"
"What would you know about that?" James demanded, fighting tears of frustration and anger.
"I admit the concept is foreign to me," the entity answered, "but I have learned enough of humans to know it is of great power to you. You'd have your grandfather back if you could, wouldn't you?"
James bit his lip, his emotions raging. In the second pool of light, Arthur was patting his pockets distractedly, as if looking for something. "Wrong address," he muttered, laughing a little nervously. "Where'd I put that packet of emergency Floo powder? Molly always insists I carry it. She'll crow for days about the fact that I finally needed it."
"Yes!" James blurted, tears welling in his eyes. "I love my grandfather. But he's gone! You can't trick me! I won't do what you ask even if it means getting him back!"
"Selfless," the Gatekeeper said seriously, nodding. "A very respectable trait. I admire it, I really do." It raised its hand and snapped its fingers again.
A third pool of light appeared. James turned to look, blinking through a blur of tears. A figure seemed to stumble backwards into the light. He was tall and thin, wearing dark robes; his long black hair was ratty and matted with sweat. He caught his balance and spun on the spot, his wand out. Wild eyes spotted James and the man stopped, breathing heavily, obviously confused.
"Harry?" he called, frowning in consternation. "You're not Harry. Are you?"
James couldn't believe his eyes. "Sirius?" he gasped. "You're Sirius Black!"
"Ten points for you," Sirius replied. "Where am I? Where's Remus and Harry and the rest? Where's bloody Bellatrix, for that matter? I'm not through with that witch."
"Sirius!" James called, hitching a sob, completely at a loss. "It's… it's over! You were k—"
"The dead don't wish to know such things," the Gatekeeper interrupted, shushing James. "But surely you can see who this is. Sirius Black. More importantly, your father's long lost godfather."
James nodded, barely hearing.
The Gatekeeper went on. "Deny yourself all you wish, James. Return your grandfather to the realm of the dead. But will you be able to live with yourself knowing that you turned down the opportunity to give your father the one man whose love he has ached for every day of his life? Will you ever be able to look your father in the eye again, knowing you have denied him his greatest wish: to have his godfather returned to him?"
James' mind was reeling. "But they're not real!"
"What does that even mean, James?" the Gatekeeper demanded. "Look at them! They know not their own fates! For them, no time has passed whatsoever. They believe they are real! Who are you to tell them otherwise?"
"I don't know!" James cried, clutching his head.
"It is so simple, James," the Gatekeeper soothed, advancing on him. "I am the King of the Cats. You may join me and see all those you've lost returned to you. Your grandfather, your father's godfather, even your long dead grandparents. There is no drawback, James, only one small price. A price you won't even mind paying, I assure you. A price you will be glad to pay!"