A/N: Sorry to all those whose hearts I broke by not posting for a day (yeah
right)! Anyway, my idiot computer went psycho and tried to eat me.
Gil: It did not.
Me: Well, no, but it kept flashing it's little window things at me and telling me an 'unexpected error' had occurred. You'd think that after flashing the warning three times it would be less unexpected.
Gil: Machines are stupid.
Me: I'm in full agreement.
Chapter 10: Back to the Veil
You left me with goodbye and open arms
A cut so deep I don't deserve
You were always invincible in my eyes
The only thing against us now is time
-The Calling
"Department of Mysteries," said the cool female voice. Harry stepped out, instantly blending with the shadows that lurked on both sides of the hall.
He met no one as he proceeded down the dark hallway. A small warning prickled on the back of his neck. Normally, Harry would have simply put it down as the fault of memories, but not this time. His footsteps became more cautious and his hearing more acute. He stopped at a door at the end of the hall. He pushed it open without a second thought.
He found himself in a circular room with many doors. Closing his eyes, be tried to read the feeling, but the strength of something pulsating from behind one door blocked all hope he might have had.
Opening his eyes, he looked at the door in question. Reaching out a hand, he tried to push it open. Nothing happened. He put his hand on the door knob and muttered the spell that should unlock it.
The doorknob burned his hand horrible. He started to shake but did not let go. He could feel his flesh burning from under him. He didn't let go. What he sought lurked behind this door. He knew it. He had to break the spell. With a bang, Harry flew from the door. In his surprise, he let his guard drop and flinched at the pain he expected to feel in his hand. None came. He hit the wall behind him with a bang and stared incredulously at his unmarked hand.
He got to his feet. Taking a cautious step toward the door, he reached out a hand. The doorknob felt cool to the touch and it turned easily for his hand.
Hesitating a moment longer, Harry considered what lay inside the room. Nothing I can't handle, Harry assured himself. Malfoy-if this is Malfoy-is still himself and I am still me. No amount of training can make that fool my equal.
He pushed open the door and the second it opened, he felt himself pulled inside by some unseen force-something that made his readily prepared powers defenseless.
"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is as once more wonderful and more terrible that death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is a power within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you."
Harry stared in horror at the room he had unlocked. In a hundred years and in millions of different languages, never has a word been uttered that could possibly describe what Harry saw. It looked as if pain had been given a body, as if happiness had suddenly been given voice. It felt as if every tiny particle of emotion he had pushed away for all those years had finally broken through.
He had no defense for this kind of power. It was greater than anything he had ever encountered, more terrible that a hundred Voldemorts-more benign that thousands of Dumbledores.
Harry fell to his knees as every moment of great suffering, great happiness, great excitement, and great pain washed over him. The pain canceled out each time by a brief moment of utmost joy. But it didn't last. With the end of Voldemort came memories that Harry barely remembered due to such a long time of pushing them away.
"I'm having Christmas dinner at my house," Ron said hopefully. "Maybe you can come. Ginny will be there."
"I'm busy," Harry said. "Unlike you, I realize that there are still hundreds of Death Eaters waiting patiently in hiding for another Dark Lord." He never once looked up from his work. Ron took a step closer.
"Harry," he said calmly, almost pleadingly. "The Death Eaters can wait. Surely you can spare one night, in all the year! It's Christmas, Harry. Please come."
"I haven't the time," Harry snapped. "Christmas is supposed to be a happy time. Why do you want me there?"
"Because you're my friend!" Ron had insisted.
Harry had spun around at this, finally looking Ron in the eye. His own seeing right through Ron's eyes and Ron seeing only himself reflected in Harry's. "Am I your friend? Can you truly look upon me and not see me standing there-murdering Hermione?"
"You didn't kill her, Harry!" Ron said, his voice rising fervently. "Voldemort killed her! You did what you could!"
"But I didn't have the strength to save her!" Harry exploded. "I should have been stronger." His voice quieted for this last statement. Ron looked horrified.
"How much is one man allowed to suffer?" He asked. "You did the very best you possibly could! Hermione, wherever she is, doesn't hate you! She doesn't blame you for what happened! I don't blame you! Ginny doesn't blame you! You're not letting yourself come because you can't let go of the past! Let it go, Harry! And live life a little bit! The Fates owe you that much!"
"I don't believe in Fate," Harry said bitterly. "If it existed, then I have been destined to become the murderer of my loved ones. Leave now. I don't want to inflict my company upon you. I know you're only asking me to be nice. Go. You have my answer."
"Harry," Ron said. He reached out a hand and placed it on Harry's shoulder.
The simply gesture broke Harry's calm composure. Enraged that Ron should keep at him, after everything that had happened.after everything that Harry had put him through that he should still wish to taunt Harry with the fact that he and his sister alone still lived, Harry sent Ron flying from the room. The door slammed in Ron's alarmed face and Harry ignored the pounding and the shouts until Ron left, defeated.
Harry looked up, horrified. He no longer knew who he was, where he was. He lost himself completely in the horrible memories. Not a single good one came again. Somehow, through some great force of will, he managed to crawl from the room and close the door behind him. He leaned against it heavily, breathing hard.
He had never forgotten about Ron. He and Ginny alone still lived, still safe. But they had died to Harry as much as any of them. He still sent Harry letters that he never opened. He had gotten one recently, inviting him for Halloween. Ron always went all out for Halloween. He loved that holiday above all others.
Harry had seen something in that vision that he had not seen the first time- something Harry had been blind too. Ron had not taunted him, Ron, one of only two survivors of the Weasley family, the only friend he had left. Harry felt something very peculiar arise in him that moment. A friend.it had been so long.
But he had always had Ron. He had just shut him out. As if that room had opened his eyes, Harry looked around, as though seeing everything for the first time-or merely the second.
Memories of this horrible room came back to him as though the room had not yet had its say.
They crept out of the office and back toward the door into the black hallway, which now seemed completely deserted. They walked a few steps forward, Neville tottering slightly due to Hermione's weight. The door of the Time Room swung shut behind them, and the walls began to rotate once more. The recent blow on the back of Harry's head seemed to have unsteadied him; he narrowed his eyes, swaying slightly, until the walls stopped moving again.
Harry realized with a jolt that the room had indeed not yet had its say. Energy still seeped out from under the door. Pulling out his wand, he started charming it with as many locking spells that he knew (and that happened to be quite a few). Then he sank to the floor, breathing heavily. The substance behind the door returned to its locked prison.
He leaned his head against the wall and, for a split second before he jerked it away from the rotating wall, he felt the substance inside pulse with life, trying to get out.
He suddenly jerked to his feet. He was not alone. Not in this room, but down here, in the Department of Mysteries-and they didn't work here.
He steadied himself on his feet. He shouldn't go after them-not in this condition. But if Malfoy had come to the Department of Mysteries, he shouldn't get whatever he sought.
Harry shook his head and tried to block out the memories. Lately it had gotten harder.
He looked down and surprised himself to see his wand in his hand. He only vaguely remembered pulling it out. He shook his head. He rarely used his wand anymore.
He stuffed the small bit of wood into his pocket and closed his eyes. His magic sensed through the very walls themselves and Harry walked toward the direction where he could feel a wizard standing, his hand outstretched. He opened his eyes and pushed open the door which he stood in front.
He almost fell to the ground in his weakened state when he saw the room in which he had entered. Sirius.
"I see you still remember it," said a cool voice. Harry did not blink. Every barrier that the pervious room had lowered shot up like an impenetrable wall. Malfoy stood, staring into the dark veil.
"I do," Harry said coolly. "It had meaning to me. Why are you here?"
"I am here looking for supporters for the Dark Lord's army," said Malfoy. "But surely you would know that."
"Indeed?" Harry asked. "I hate to tell you this, Mr. Malfoy, but everyone in this room, is dead and rotting."
"What about me?"
"I thought I had made that clear."
Harry saw Malfoy's lip curl. "You really should do your homework, Potter. If my father-or godfather, as it is-had fallen through a mysterious veil, I would have wanted to know as much about that veil as possible. But I didn't have that kind of luck, did I?"
"Your father wasn't good enough for a quick, easy death."
"Really? I never heard the details. Did you mock him before you slit his throat, or did Cruciatus Curses do the trick?"
"I wouldn't lower myself to a Death Eaters level with the Cruciatus; you of all people should know that, Malfoy. And I didn't slit his throat, I bludgeoned him to death."
"And then you came to the past and couldn't wait to do it again, could you?"
"It wasn't my fault. He should have known better than to murder a Muggle right in front of me."
"Like you care about the Muggles!" Malfoy yelled, turning away from the veil. "I've seen you! You're taking out all the pains your Muggle guardians did you on them! You're no better than a Death Eater, Potter! You think your so high and mighty, but in the end, you don't bat an eye if one of the billions of Muggles kicks the bucket!"
Harry's anger flared. He mentally stepped on the flames until they became a smoldering ash pile. He couldn't loose his temper now. "The difference between me and the Death Eaters, Malfoy, is that I have a soul-and I've used it."
"Once or twice," Malfoy said, shrugging. "But the innocence of childhood does that to a person. When was the last time you can you honestly say you've used your soul? Was it before or after you killed my father?"
"Both," Harry said, smirking. "Killing your father was no more than killing a dementor to me. Both suck the happiness out of a room, both steal the souls from a human being living and breathing body."
"At least my father-"
"Did you come all the way down here to tell me off for killing your father? If you did, it turned out to be rather melodramatic. If there's more to this little puzzle you've concocted, then I suggest you get on with it so the last of the Malfoy's can sleep with his beloved father."
"Is that a threat, Potter?"
"Very good, Malfoy. Now can you tell me what you get when you mix blue and red?"
"Still funny. I hoped for as much. That will make it all the more pleasant when I rip your still beating heart from your living body."
"Like father. Like son."
"I suppose you're curious to know what I'm doing in such a sad place," Malfoy said. "In this place, I believe, you killed your godfather."
"I didn't kill my godfather. His cousin did."
"Is that so?" Malfoy said. "Since when have you ever seen the truth when lies are so much easier?"
"The truth can set you free," Harry said, smirking.
"So if I start confessing, you'll let me go?"
"Of course not!" Harry scoffed. "I'll get annoyed with you and stick a sharp object through your heart."
"I'll hold you to that," Malfoy said.
"Just warn me first," Harry said. "I'll want to take a picture for future laughs."
"You have my word," Malfoy said. "Of course, knowing me, that certainly doesn't mean much."
Harry shook his head. "You know, you've come a long way from that annoying kid that shot a snake at me in the dueling club. Of course, if we had another midnight duel, I bet you'd still stick the authorities on me."
"And you would show your wonderful scar and they would fall to their knees in worship."
"It's a burden someone has to bear."
"And you love every second of it."
"Naturally."
"Some people never change," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "But, back to what I came here to do. Maybe you can sit in a corner somewhere until your beloved Dumbledore comes and bails you out. Oh wait! I helped kill him, didn't I?"
Harry forced back the furious curses that popped into his mind. Instead, he forced a laugh. "Do you honestly think Voldemort wants your help? He's been doing fine without you. He's just using you. In the end, he'll leave you to rot in Azkaban, or have you complete some sort of impossible task that will get you killed. Just ask your father. He had both happen to him."
But Malfoy didn't let himself get distracted again. He turned to the portal. "You see this veil, Potter? It's called the Veil of Death. It sucks the living from the very living realm and has them cross over into the shadow of the dead. If you had done your homework, you might have realized that by using that little mirror your godfather gave you created a connection to the other realm. By destroying it, you broke the connection." He looked at Harry with a smirk. "But then again, you were an overemotional 15-year-old boy."
Harry did not ask how he knew this. He was from the future, even from Harry's point of view. He had to have everything planned out before he attempted to come back to the past.
"Fortunately for you," Malfoy slipped his hand into his pocket and extracted what looked like the pieces of a small glass mirror. "I have everything you need."
"It doesn't matter," Harry said. "I destroyed it. The charm binding them is gone. Not even the Repairo Spell can save it now."
"Are you saying," Malfoy said in mock concern. "That I would have to go back in time? Well, now that you mention it, it seems to me that there was a little something in this very department that could help me out there, isn't there?"
"You've really put some thought into this, haven't you?" Harry asked, his face still coolly composed but inside an alarm was going off. "I suppose your head must have hurt for a month."
"Still sarcastic, even in the face of death. Or, perhaps, the return to life."
"So let me get this straight," Harry said. "You went through all this trouble to free my godfather from the shadow of death? That's very nice of you, Malfoy. But you better not. I might feel bad about killing your father in one time, and brutally attacking and stealing his memory in another."
"Potter, Potter, Potter," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "Surely you don't think the sole purpose of this veil was to swallow up your godfather. Someone made for a purpose-before the Ministry saw it as a threat and locked it away."
"And-let me guess-you're going to tell me the purpose?"
"What can I say? I like to brag. That's no more than you do. An arch mage created it centuries ago because he wanted a way to communicate with the dead. It didn't work, but his cat disappeared behind it and could never come back, so he used it. Perhaps you have noticed that ghosts go through everything-you didn't become famous for your intelligence. But this mage decided he wanted to know whether or not ghosts could go through this portal of the dead. Turns out they can-and they can't come back. Ghosts feared nothing-they did not actually live. Now the mage had control over the dead-over everything.
"I'm sure you know the rest of the story. He went evil, tried to destroy the world, got defeated, and the portal brought here. It can't be destroyed, you see. The Ministry used for many years as the final punishment-death. Then they went trigger happy and accidentally sent an innocent man through it. That was the end of that."
"Truly touching," Harry said sarcastically. "But what does that have to do with anything?"
"Nothing," Malfoy said. "I was stalling for time. It would appear, however, that I have waited long enough." He looked at the veil.
Horrified that he had so easily fallen into that trap, Harry too looked at the veil. It billowed more violently. The whispers from behind it became louder. Harry could make out individual voices.
"Help me!"
"I didn't do it! Please spare me!"
"I'll never do something like that ever again! Give me another chance!"
"I am so sorry! I know it means nothing now, but I am! I've learned my lesson!
"Just let me go! I can't be like this forever!"
Then the pleading voices quieted and the other voices of the dead broke through.
"Free me and you will be rewarded."
"I want to see my children one last time. My grandchild was having a baby."
"Dead isn't so bad, it's kind of pleasant. No taxes."
Malfoy's eyes closed as though he could see the dead around him. He frowned and flicked his wrist. With each flick a voice vanished.
His eyes still closed and one wrist still flicking, he set the piece of glass on the ground and withdrew from his pocket a small hourglass.
Harry knew that he would have to act quickly. He had already used up far too much time. Jumping down from the stairs and onto the level below where Malfoy stood, he hurried to where Malfoy performed the ritual.
Suddenly Malfoy let out a shriek. "Help me!"
The next second Malfoy's eyes jerked open and he looked at Harry, a horrible smile coming to his lips. His eyes did not see Harry. Someone else looked through Draco's body. They held up a hand and Harry felt as though a hand slowly choked him to death.
Mustering his strength, Harry made a slashing motion with his hand the pressure stopped. Trying not to look like he was gasping for breath, he let the wonderful oxygen fill his lungs.
The spirit possessing Malfoy, however, did not want Harry to catch his breath. Waving Malfoy's wand wildly, he yelled what sounded like a chant. What appeared to be 8 streaks of light, emitted from Malfoy's wand and curled themselves around Harry, taking shape and forming into hissing serpents.
Harry could not move his hands, but he concentrated his energy and a second later the snakes fell to the floor, writhing around when they hit and vanishing in smoke, Harry appeared directly behind Malfoy. Realizing this spirit must be a skilled wizard, Harry tapped it on the shoulder. Malfoy spun around and the next second Harry's fist connected hard with his rival's face.
"A little unorthodox," Harry admitted when Malfoy fell to the ground under the blow, "But it works."
Malfoy's hand containing the hourglass went slack as he fell to the ground, unconscious. The small hourglass flew into the air. Harry made to catch it, but he was too slow after everything that had just happened and the small glass hit the glass mirror and broke, right in the middle. A single grain of the magical sand fell out.
The second it touched the glass the mirror glowed and, like a movie, it rose into the air and instantly fixed itself. It started to fall and Harry reached out a quick hand and caught it.
Everything inside Harry seemed to be screaming at him to use the mirror-to free Sirius. Harry gulped and looked at the veil. The voices had quieted slightly. He heard them talking to him.
"Free me, already, fool!"
"What are you doing? Do you expect me to wait forever?"
"What happened? Are you dead or are you just weak?"
It was a danger, Harry realized. He endangered every human on the earth with that mirror. A long as Sirius remained in the veil with the other mirror, anyone could simply come in and open the portal and let the other dark lords out.
Harry knew what he had to do. He tried to ignore the feeling in him that said he wanted to see Sirius again.
"Sirius!" he whispered to the mirror. Nothing happened. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. Seconds later he watched the thoughts of the unconscious and unprotected Malfoy, digging deep until he found what he sought.
A minute later, Harry opened his eyes and blinked. He reached inside Malfoy's pocket and pulled out what looked like a small, glowing talisman. Putting it in his own pocket, he closed his eyes again.
This time he stood in that same room. People surrounded him.
"Hey! You're not the same person!"
"Who are you?"
"Let me out of here or you will regret it!"
Harry frowned at the clutter of people around him.
Flicking his wrist as he had seen Malfoy do, the threatening people vanished. They left him almost by himself. A few people sitting in the room looked at him.
Harry didn't recognize any of them. Then he saw one man sitting in the back of the room, not looking anyone.
"Sirius?"
The man looked up. Harry's heart leapt into his throat.
Sirius was unlike every other person. He knew only the young Harry-the innocent Harry. He never knew what Harry had become. As though the Fates gave Harry a clean slate.a second chance.
"Harry?" the man asked hoarsely.
"It's me, Sirius!" Harry said. He smiled a real smile-something that he had not done for such a long time that he became unclear whether he did it correctly.
Sirius looked horrified. "Harry! My God! Not you too!"
Harry grinned broader. "No! I'm here to bring you back!"
The effect of these simple words on the others in the room amazed him. The jumped to their feet and started shouting at him.
Harry's face closed again. Flicking his wrist violently, each and every person vanished except for Sirius.
Sirius got unsteadily to his feet. "Are you really my godson?"
"It's me!" Harry said, willing Sirius to believe him. "Who else would I be?"
"That's what I want to know," Sirius said, looking almost mistrustfully at Harry. "You don't see me, but we sit here every day. Every person who has gone through that veil is doomed to sit on these steps and watch the world pass them by. We see all.and hear all."
Harry's happiness slipped like a stone. He had heard his talk with Malfoy.
"I know I've been here a while, but I have certainly not been alive for as long as it would take you to look that old."
"An accident," Harry said coldly. A clean slate. Ridiculous. He would never get a second chance. "I got sucked through a portal and Malfoy followed. I'm here to stop him. Nothing else. I have already interfered."
"What are you talking about?" Sirius asked.
"I'm from years into the future!" Harry snapped. "Voldemort is here in this time and there is no way your precious godson can ever defeat him at this rate-all thanks to me. I didn't mean to do a thing. I came on accident. But I suppose I can always leave you here. You will never have another chance."
"I'll come!" Sirius said. "Anything is better than perpetuity of eternal boredom!"
"Good," Harry said. "Because I couldn't leave you here anyway. That mirror in your pocket is a danger to the entire world. Malfoy there tried to use the connection to bring back a whole score of evil wizards."
"Malfoy?" Sirius asked, coming down from his lofty position. "I thought he died."
"I thought you saw all? Why would he be unconscious?"
"Unconscious?"
Horrified, Harry opened his real eyes, a shield charm barely on his lips, in time to get knocked over by a powerful jinx.
The tiny bit of the shield that Harry had managed to create had stopped a very small portion of the curse.
The jinx threw him backwards but failed to knock him completely unconscious. Blinking stars from his eyes, he struggled to his feet.
Malfoy yelled something at him but he could barely hear a thing. The jinx had dazed him and, because of its power, one didn't recover from it right off the bat.
Harry tired to bring Malfoy into focus. His eyes seemed to be functioning incorrectly. He felt another curse hit him. Harry threw up a shield as he felt himself fall to the ground. Malfoy's curses deflected off the shield. He cursed in rage and shot the killing curse at Harry. He could see the horrible green through the blur all around him. It blasted through his shield and hit him square on.
Harry's scar burned like fire. It burned more than the rest of him, which felt as if it had been hit by a dozen Cruciatus curses at once.
But his mother's love came through again. As long as Harry had his scar and his mother's love behind him, the killing curse would continue to bounce off. Voldemort's major weapon (the promise of quick death) had been gone in the final battle and left Voldemort unsure what he had to do to make Harry suffer. In the end, Harry suffered, but Voldemort died.
Malfoy, of course, knew that the curse would not kill him, but it had the effect he desired. Harry shield flickered and died and left him weakened so much that any shield he might erect could not stand against the simplest jinxes.
His next words penetrated Harry's jinx-induced daze. "And so ends the famous Harry Potter. I wonder what they'll say when they find your dead body."
"Hopefully something different from Voldemort," said a new voice. "When he never finds yours."
Malfoy suddenly gasped and fell to his knees. He looked at Harry in amazement before falling to the ground, unconscious.
Harry looked up through his dazed vision and saw the kind face of his godfather standing over him.
A/N: Whoops! Cliffy! Okay, not really, but sort of, in a way. I wasn't sure if I was overstepping my bounds as an authoress by bringing Sirius back (yes, I know lots of people do it, but I was exceptionally self-conscious). Anyway, I did and this is the finished product. I hoped you like it and I want to urge all of you to laugh hysterically whenever you hear someone say the word 'serious' when they're not talking about Sirius Black.
Gil: You're nuts.
Me: You should hear the things I think and don't say...
Gil: It did not.
Me: Well, no, but it kept flashing it's little window things at me and telling me an 'unexpected error' had occurred. You'd think that after flashing the warning three times it would be less unexpected.
Gil: Machines are stupid.
Me: I'm in full agreement.
Chapter 10: Back to the Veil
You left me with goodbye and open arms
A cut so deep I don't deserve
You were always invincible in my eyes
The only thing against us now is time
-The Calling
"Department of Mysteries," said the cool female voice. Harry stepped out, instantly blending with the shadows that lurked on both sides of the hall.
He met no one as he proceeded down the dark hallway. A small warning prickled on the back of his neck. Normally, Harry would have simply put it down as the fault of memories, but not this time. His footsteps became more cautious and his hearing more acute. He stopped at a door at the end of the hall. He pushed it open without a second thought.
He found himself in a circular room with many doors. Closing his eyes, be tried to read the feeling, but the strength of something pulsating from behind one door blocked all hope he might have had.
Opening his eyes, he looked at the door in question. Reaching out a hand, he tried to push it open. Nothing happened. He put his hand on the door knob and muttered the spell that should unlock it.
The doorknob burned his hand horrible. He started to shake but did not let go. He could feel his flesh burning from under him. He didn't let go. What he sought lurked behind this door. He knew it. He had to break the spell. With a bang, Harry flew from the door. In his surprise, he let his guard drop and flinched at the pain he expected to feel in his hand. None came. He hit the wall behind him with a bang and stared incredulously at his unmarked hand.
He got to his feet. Taking a cautious step toward the door, he reached out a hand. The doorknob felt cool to the touch and it turned easily for his hand.
Hesitating a moment longer, Harry considered what lay inside the room. Nothing I can't handle, Harry assured himself. Malfoy-if this is Malfoy-is still himself and I am still me. No amount of training can make that fool my equal.
He pushed open the door and the second it opened, he felt himself pulled inside by some unseen force-something that made his readily prepared powers defenseless.
"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is as once more wonderful and more terrible that death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is a power within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you."
Harry stared in horror at the room he had unlocked. In a hundred years and in millions of different languages, never has a word been uttered that could possibly describe what Harry saw. It looked as if pain had been given a body, as if happiness had suddenly been given voice. It felt as if every tiny particle of emotion he had pushed away for all those years had finally broken through.
He had no defense for this kind of power. It was greater than anything he had ever encountered, more terrible that a hundred Voldemorts-more benign that thousands of Dumbledores.
Harry fell to his knees as every moment of great suffering, great happiness, great excitement, and great pain washed over him. The pain canceled out each time by a brief moment of utmost joy. But it didn't last. With the end of Voldemort came memories that Harry barely remembered due to such a long time of pushing them away.
"I'm having Christmas dinner at my house," Ron said hopefully. "Maybe you can come. Ginny will be there."
"I'm busy," Harry said. "Unlike you, I realize that there are still hundreds of Death Eaters waiting patiently in hiding for another Dark Lord." He never once looked up from his work. Ron took a step closer.
"Harry," he said calmly, almost pleadingly. "The Death Eaters can wait. Surely you can spare one night, in all the year! It's Christmas, Harry. Please come."
"I haven't the time," Harry snapped. "Christmas is supposed to be a happy time. Why do you want me there?"
"Because you're my friend!" Ron had insisted.
Harry had spun around at this, finally looking Ron in the eye. His own seeing right through Ron's eyes and Ron seeing only himself reflected in Harry's. "Am I your friend? Can you truly look upon me and not see me standing there-murdering Hermione?"
"You didn't kill her, Harry!" Ron said, his voice rising fervently. "Voldemort killed her! You did what you could!"
"But I didn't have the strength to save her!" Harry exploded. "I should have been stronger." His voice quieted for this last statement. Ron looked horrified.
"How much is one man allowed to suffer?" He asked. "You did the very best you possibly could! Hermione, wherever she is, doesn't hate you! She doesn't blame you for what happened! I don't blame you! Ginny doesn't blame you! You're not letting yourself come because you can't let go of the past! Let it go, Harry! And live life a little bit! The Fates owe you that much!"
"I don't believe in Fate," Harry said bitterly. "If it existed, then I have been destined to become the murderer of my loved ones. Leave now. I don't want to inflict my company upon you. I know you're only asking me to be nice. Go. You have my answer."
"Harry," Ron said. He reached out a hand and placed it on Harry's shoulder.
The simply gesture broke Harry's calm composure. Enraged that Ron should keep at him, after everything that had happened.after everything that Harry had put him through that he should still wish to taunt Harry with the fact that he and his sister alone still lived, Harry sent Ron flying from the room. The door slammed in Ron's alarmed face and Harry ignored the pounding and the shouts until Ron left, defeated.
Harry looked up, horrified. He no longer knew who he was, where he was. He lost himself completely in the horrible memories. Not a single good one came again. Somehow, through some great force of will, he managed to crawl from the room and close the door behind him. He leaned against it heavily, breathing hard.
He had never forgotten about Ron. He and Ginny alone still lived, still safe. But they had died to Harry as much as any of them. He still sent Harry letters that he never opened. He had gotten one recently, inviting him for Halloween. Ron always went all out for Halloween. He loved that holiday above all others.
Harry had seen something in that vision that he had not seen the first time- something Harry had been blind too. Ron had not taunted him, Ron, one of only two survivors of the Weasley family, the only friend he had left. Harry felt something very peculiar arise in him that moment. A friend.it had been so long.
But he had always had Ron. He had just shut him out. As if that room had opened his eyes, Harry looked around, as though seeing everything for the first time-or merely the second.
Memories of this horrible room came back to him as though the room had not yet had its say.
They crept out of the office and back toward the door into the black hallway, which now seemed completely deserted. They walked a few steps forward, Neville tottering slightly due to Hermione's weight. The door of the Time Room swung shut behind them, and the walls began to rotate once more. The recent blow on the back of Harry's head seemed to have unsteadied him; he narrowed his eyes, swaying slightly, until the walls stopped moving again.
Harry realized with a jolt that the room had indeed not yet had its say. Energy still seeped out from under the door. Pulling out his wand, he started charming it with as many locking spells that he knew (and that happened to be quite a few). Then he sank to the floor, breathing heavily. The substance behind the door returned to its locked prison.
He leaned his head against the wall and, for a split second before he jerked it away from the rotating wall, he felt the substance inside pulse with life, trying to get out.
He suddenly jerked to his feet. He was not alone. Not in this room, but down here, in the Department of Mysteries-and they didn't work here.
He steadied himself on his feet. He shouldn't go after them-not in this condition. But if Malfoy had come to the Department of Mysteries, he shouldn't get whatever he sought.
Harry shook his head and tried to block out the memories. Lately it had gotten harder.
He looked down and surprised himself to see his wand in his hand. He only vaguely remembered pulling it out. He shook his head. He rarely used his wand anymore.
He stuffed the small bit of wood into his pocket and closed his eyes. His magic sensed through the very walls themselves and Harry walked toward the direction where he could feel a wizard standing, his hand outstretched. He opened his eyes and pushed open the door which he stood in front.
He almost fell to the ground in his weakened state when he saw the room in which he had entered. Sirius.
"I see you still remember it," said a cool voice. Harry did not blink. Every barrier that the pervious room had lowered shot up like an impenetrable wall. Malfoy stood, staring into the dark veil.
"I do," Harry said coolly. "It had meaning to me. Why are you here?"
"I am here looking for supporters for the Dark Lord's army," said Malfoy. "But surely you would know that."
"Indeed?" Harry asked. "I hate to tell you this, Mr. Malfoy, but everyone in this room, is dead and rotting."
"What about me?"
"I thought I had made that clear."
Harry saw Malfoy's lip curl. "You really should do your homework, Potter. If my father-or godfather, as it is-had fallen through a mysterious veil, I would have wanted to know as much about that veil as possible. But I didn't have that kind of luck, did I?"
"Your father wasn't good enough for a quick, easy death."
"Really? I never heard the details. Did you mock him before you slit his throat, or did Cruciatus Curses do the trick?"
"I wouldn't lower myself to a Death Eaters level with the Cruciatus; you of all people should know that, Malfoy. And I didn't slit his throat, I bludgeoned him to death."
"And then you came to the past and couldn't wait to do it again, could you?"
"It wasn't my fault. He should have known better than to murder a Muggle right in front of me."
"Like you care about the Muggles!" Malfoy yelled, turning away from the veil. "I've seen you! You're taking out all the pains your Muggle guardians did you on them! You're no better than a Death Eater, Potter! You think your so high and mighty, but in the end, you don't bat an eye if one of the billions of Muggles kicks the bucket!"
Harry's anger flared. He mentally stepped on the flames until they became a smoldering ash pile. He couldn't loose his temper now. "The difference between me and the Death Eaters, Malfoy, is that I have a soul-and I've used it."
"Once or twice," Malfoy said, shrugging. "But the innocence of childhood does that to a person. When was the last time you can you honestly say you've used your soul? Was it before or after you killed my father?"
"Both," Harry said, smirking. "Killing your father was no more than killing a dementor to me. Both suck the happiness out of a room, both steal the souls from a human being living and breathing body."
"At least my father-"
"Did you come all the way down here to tell me off for killing your father? If you did, it turned out to be rather melodramatic. If there's more to this little puzzle you've concocted, then I suggest you get on with it so the last of the Malfoy's can sleep with his beloved father."
"Is that a threat, Potter?"
"Very good, Malfoy. Now can you tell me what you get when you mix blue and red?"
"Still funny. I hoped for as much. That will make it all the more pleasant when I rip your still beating heart from your living body."
"Like father. Like son."
"I suppose you're curious to know what I'm doing in such a sad place," Malfoy said. "In this place, I believe, you killed your godfather."
"I didn't kill my godfather. His cousin did."
"Is that so?" Malfoy said. "Since when have you ever seen the truth when lies are so much easier?"
"The truth can set you free," Harry said, smirking.
"So if I start confessing, you'll let me go?"
"Of course not!" Harry scoffed. "I'll get annoyed with you and stick a sharp object through your heart."
"I'll hold you to that," Malfoy said.
"Just warn me first," Harry said. "I'll want to take a picture for future laughs."
"You have my word," Malfoy said. "Of course, knowing me, that certainly doesn't mean much."
Harry shook his head. "You know, you've come a long way from that annoying kid that shot a snake at me in the dueling club. Of course, if we had another midnight duel, I bet you'd still stick the authorities on me."
"And you would show your wonderful scar and they would fall to their knees in worship."
"It's a burden someone has to bear."
"And you love every second of it."
"Naturally."
"Some people never change," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "But, back to what I came here to do. Maybe you can sit in a corner somewhere until your beloved Dumbledore comes and bails you out. Oh wait! I helped kill him, didn't I?"
Harry forced back the furious curses that popped into his mind. Instead, he forced a laugh. "Do you honestly think Voldemort wants your help? He's been doing fine without you. He's just using you. In the end, he'll leave you to rot in Azkaban, or have you complete some sort of impossible task that will get you killed. Just ask your father. He had both happen to him."
But Malfoy didn't let himself get distracted again. He turned to the portal. "You see this veil, Potter? It's called the Veil of Death. It sucks the living from the very living realm and has them cross over into the shadow of the dead. If you had done your homework, you might have realized that by using that little mirror your godfather gave you created a connection to the other realm. By destroying it, you broke the connection." He looked at Harry with a smirk. "But then again, you were an overemotional 15-year-old boy."
Harry did not ask how he knew this. He was from the future, even from Harry's point of view. He had to have everything planned out before he attempted to come back to the past.
"Fortunately for you," Malfoy slipped his hand into his pocket and extracted what looked like the pieces of a small glass mirror. "I have everything you need."
"It doesn't matter," Harry said. "I destroyed it. The charm binding them is gone. Not even the Repairo Spell can save it now."
"Are you saying," Malfoy said in mock concern. "That I would have to go back in time? Well, now that you mention it, it seems to me that there was a little something in this very department that could help me out there, isn't there?"
"You've really put some thought into this, haven't you?" Harry asked, his face still coolly composed but inside an alarm was going off. "I suppose your head must have hurt for a month."
"Still sarcastic, even in the face of death. Or, perhaps, the return to life."
"So let me get this straight," Harry said. "You went through all this trouble to free my godfather from the shadow of death? That's very nice of you, Malfoy. But you better not. I might feel bad about killing your father in one time, and brutally attacking and stealing his memory in another."
"Potter, Potter, Potter," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "Surely you don't think the sole purpose of this veil was to swallow up your godfather. Someone made for a purpose-before the Ministry saw it as a threat and locked it away."
"And-let me guess-you're going to tell me the purpose?"
"What can I say? I like to brag. That's no more than you do. An arch mage created it centuries ago because he wanted a way to communicate with the dead. It didn't work, but his cat disappeared behind it and could never come back, so he used it. Perhaps you have noticed that ghosts go through everything-you didn't become famous for your intelligence. But this mage decided he wanted to know whether or not ghosts could go through this portal of the dead. Turns out they can-and they can't come back. Ghosts feared nothing-they did not actually live. Now the mage had control over the dead-over everything.
"I'm sure you know the rest of the story. He went evil, tried to destroy the world, got defeated, and the portal brought here. It can't be destroyed, you see. The Ministry used for many years as the final punishment-death. Then they went trigger happy and accidentally sent an innocent man through it. That was the end of that."
"Truly touching," Harry said sarcastically. "But what does that have to do with anything?"
"Nothing," Malfoy said. "I was stalling for time. It would appear, however, that I have waited long enough." He looked at the veil.
Horrified that he had so easily fallen into that trap, Harry too looked at the veil. It billowed more violently. The whispers from behind it became louder. Harry could make out individual voices.
"Help me!"
"I didn't do it! Please spare me!"
"I'll never do something like that ever again! Give me another chance!"
"I am so sorry! I know it means nothing now, but I am! I've learned my lesson!
"Just let me go! I can't be like this forever!"
Then the pleading voices quieted and the other voices of the dead broke through.
"Free me and you will be rewarded."
"I want to see my children one last time. My grandchild was having a baby."
"Dead isn't so bad, it's kind of pleasant. No taxes."
Malfoy's eyes closed as though he could see the dead around him. He frowned and flicked his wrist. With each flick a voice vanished.
His eyes still closed and one wrist still flicking, he set the piece of glass on the ground and withdrew from his pocket a small hourglass.
Harry knew that he would have to act quickly. He had already used up far too much time. Jumping down from the stairs and onto the level below where Malfoy stood, he hurried to where Malfoy performed the ritual.
Suddenly Malfoy let out a shriek. "Help me!"
The next second Malfoy's eyes jerked open and he looked at Harry, a horrible smile coming to his lips. His eyes did not see Harry. Someone else looked through Draco's body. They held up a hand and Harry felt as though a hand slowly choked him to death.
Mustering his strength, Harry made a slashing motion with his hand the pressure stopped. Trying not to look like he was gasping for breath, he let the wonderful oxygen fill his lungs.
The spirit possessing Malfoy, however, did not want Harry to catch his breath. Waving Malfoy's wand wildly, he yelled what sounded like a chant. What appeared to be 8 streaks of light, emitted from Malfoy's wand and curled themselves around Harry, taking shape and forming into hissing serpents.
Harry could not move his hands, but he concentrated his energy and a second later the snakes fell to the floor, writhing around when they hit and vanishing in smoke, Harry appeared directly behind Malfoy. Realizing this spirit must be a skilled wizard, Harry tapped it on the shoulder. Malfoy spun around and the next second Harry's fist connected hard with his rival's face.
"A little unorthodox," Harry admitted when Malfoy fell to the ground under the blow, "But it works."
Malfoy's hand containing the hourglass went slack as he fell to the ground, unconscious. The small hourglass flew into the air. Harry made to catch it, but he was too slow after everything that had just happened and the small glass hit the glass mirror and broke, right in the middle. A single grain of the magical sand fell out.
The second it touched the glass the mirror glowed and, like a movie, it rose into the air and instantly fixed itself. It started to fall and Harry reached out a quick hand and caught it.
Everything inside Harry seemed to be screaming at him to use the mirror-to free Sirius. Harry gulped and looked at the veil. The voices had quieted slightly. He heard them talking to him.
"Free me, already, fool!"
"What are you doing? Do you expect me to wait forever?"
"What happened? Are you dead or are you just weak?"
It was a danger, Harry realized. He endangered every human on the earth with that mirror. A long as Sirius remained in the veil with the other mirror, anyone could simply come in and open the portal and let the other dark lords out.
Harry knew what he had to do. He tried to ignore the feeling in him that said he wanted to see Sirius again.
"Sirius!" he whispered to the mirror. Nothing happened. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. Seconds later he watched the thoughts of the unconscious and unprotected Malfoy, digging deep until he found what he sought.
A minute later, Harry opened his eyes and blinked. He reached inside Malfoy's pocket and pulled out what looked like a small, glowing talisman. Putting it in his own pocket, he closed his eyes again.
This time he stood in that same room. People surrounded him.
"Hey! You're not the same person!"
"Who are you?"
"Let me out of here or you will regret it!"
Harry frowned at the clutter of people around him.
Flicking his wrist as he had seen Malfoy do, the threatening people vanished. They left him almost by himself. A few people sitting in the room looked at him.
Harry didn't recognize any of them. Then he saw one man sitting in the back of the room, not looking anyone.
"Sirius?"
The man looked up. Harry's heart leapt into his throat.
Sirius was unlike every other person. He knew only the young Harry-the innocent Harry. He never knew what Harry had become. As though the Fates gave Harry a clean slate.a second chance.
"Harry?" the man asked hoarsely.
"It's me, Sirius!" Harry said. He smiled a real smile-something that he had not done for such a long time that he became unclear whether he did it correctly.
Sirius looked horrified. "Harry! My God! Not you too!"
Harry grinned broader. "No! I'm here to bring you back!"
The effect of these simple words on the others in the room amazed him. The jumped to their feet and started shouting at him.
Harry's face closed again. Flicking his wrist violently, each and every person vanished except for Sirius.
Sirius got unsteadily to his feet. "Are you really my godson?"
"It's me!" Harry said, willing Sirius to believe him. "Who else would I be?"
"That's what I want to know," Sirius said, looking almost mistrustfully at Harry. "You don't see me, but we sit here every day. Every person who has gone through that veil is doomed to sit on these steps and watch the world pass them by. We see all.and hear all."
Harry's happiness slipped like a stone. He had heard his talk with Malfoy.
"I know I've been here a while, but I have certainly not been alive for as long as it would take you to look that old."
"An accident," Harry said coldly. A clean slate. Ridiculous. He would never get a second chance. "I got sucked through a portal and Malfoy followed. I'm here to stop him. Nothing else. I have already interfered."
"What are you talking about?" Sirius asked.
"I'm from years into the future!" Harry snapped. "Voldemort is here in this time and there is no way your precious godson can ever defeat him at this rate-all thanks to me. I didn't mean to do a thing. I came on accident. But I suppose I can always leave you here. You will never have another chance."
"I'll come!" Sirius said. "Anything is better than perpetuity of eternal boredom!"
"Good," Harry said. "Because I couldn't leave you here anyway. That mirror in your pocket is a danger to the entire world. Malfoy there tried to use the connection to bring back a whole score of evil wizards."
"Malfoy?" Sirius asked, coming down from his lofty position. "I thought he died."
"I thought you saw all? Why would he be unconscious?"
"Unconscious?"
Horrified, Harry opened his real eyes, a shield charm barely on his lips, in time to get knocked over by a powerful jinx.
The tiny bit of the shield that Harry had managed to create had stopped a very small portion of the curse.
The jinx threw him backwards but failed to knock him completely unconscious. Blinking stars from his eyes, he struggled to his feet.
Malfoy yelled something at him but he could barely hear a thing. The jinx had dazed him and, because of its power, one didn't recover from it right off the bat.
Harry tired to bring Malfoy into focus. His eyes seemed to be functioning incorrectly. He felt another curse hit him. Harry threw up a shield as he felt himself fall to the ground. Malfoy's curses deflected off the shield. He cursed in rage and shot the killing curse at Harry. He could see the horrible green through the blur all around him. It blasted through his shield and hit him square on.
Harry's scar burned like fire. It burned more than the rest of him, which felt as if it had been hit by a dozen Cruciatus curses at once.
But his mother's love came through again. As long as Harry had his scar and his mother's love behind him, the killing curse would continue to bounce off. Voldemort's major weapon (the promise of quick death) had been gone in the final battle and left Voldemort unsure what he had to do to make Harry suffer. In the end, Harry suffered, but Voldemort died.
Malfoy, of course, knew that the curse would not kill him, but it had the effect he desired. Harry shield flickered and died and left him weakened so much that any shield he might erect could not stand against the simplest jinxes.
His next words penetrated Harry's jinx-induced daze. "And so ends the famous Harry Potter. I wonder what they'll say when they find your dead body."
"Hopefully something different from Voldemort," said a new voice. "When he never finds yours."
Malfoy suddenly gasped and fell to his knees. He looked at Harry in amazement before falling to the ground, unconscious.
Harry looked up through his dazed vision and saw the kind face of his godfather standing over him.
A/N: Whoops! Cliffy! Okay, not really, but sort of, in a way. I wasn't sure if I was overstepping my bounds as an authoress by bringing Sirius back (yes, I know lots of people do it, but I was exceptionally self-conscious). Anyway, I did and this is the finished product. I hoped you like it and I want to urge all of you to laugh hysterically whenever you hear someone say the word 'serious' when they're not talking about Sirius Black.
Gil: You're nuts.
Me: You should hear the things I think and don't say...