Title: Morior Debello

It had come. The last battle for the fate of the wizarding world had come. Dumbledore, Harry, the Hogwarts staff, and anyone else that wished to fight, stood in the Entrance Hall of the Ministry of Magic. Almost symbolically, the clouds outside were full and threatening to pour. Lightning and magic cackled in the air, and tensions were high. The door opened, revealing two tall statures. They walked in, heads held tall, straight into a jumble of wands pointed and angry glares. It was obvious these two were to be distrusted, but no one said anything, until one voice broke the silence.

"Malfoy," spat Remus Lupin. He barely tried to hide his contempt as his wand aimed at Lucius' heart.

"Calm yourself, Remus," said Dumbledore, stepping forward. His piercing blue gaze met Remus' as he put a hand on Lucius' shoulder. "Lucius and Draco are here at great risk."

Remus was shocked, but he wasn't the only one. Almost everyone present was making sure that they had heard right. Lucius Malfoy? Betraying Lord Voldemort? That couldn't be right. Only Harry and Severus Snape weren't in shock.

"You knew?" Ron nearly shouted at Harry, who normally told him everything. The Boy-Who-Lived merely smirked. With cat-like ease, he walked ahead and stood in front of Lucius.

"Welcome to the winning side," he said as he extended his hand. With a trademark Malfoy smirk, the tall blonde traitor shook hands.

"Let's make sure that comes true."

As they let go, Draco took his father's place. "Truce?" he asked. With a grin at the appalled look on Ron's face, Harry shook his hand as well.

"All right," Harry said to Lucius. "I take it Voldemort doesn't know you're here?" At his negative answer, Harry continued. He turned around and addressed the group.

"What's the one thing Voldemort wants?" he asked. No one answered. "Power. He wants power for eternity. For the past thirty-one years, Voldemort has had power, whether immense or scarce. So who are we to deny him his most loyal servant of thirty-one years?" He faced Lucius and said, "Go back to Malfoy Manor. Call Voldemort and tell him to meet me by the veil. No Death Eaters, no telling anyone else, just me and him." He spoke quietly so no one could hear what he said, least of all Dumbledore. He knew that if Dumbledore had found out about his plans, he would do everything in his power to stop the boy from going through with it.

"Are you sure about this?" Lucius asked him quietly. "You don't know the strength of the Dark Lord. I can barely stand to be in his presence for long."

Harry copied Lucius' stance and smirked, an exact replica of the blonde senior in front of him. "I'm sure, Lucius. I know his power like no one else does. Go call your master. Tell him his fight with destiny has come at last." However, this last part Dumbledore heard. As Harry had thought, the old man immediately tried to dissuade him from continuing.

"Listen to me, Harry," Dumbledore said as he pulled him aside. "I know you want to defeat Voldemort, we all do; but throwing your life away for glory is not going to stop him. His defeat requires strategy, cunning, back-traps, and trickery. The only way to stop Voldemort is to beat him at his own game."

"Which is exactly why he won't be expecting a fair fight like this. Every time we've fought Voldemort, he's had back up and people hiding in the shadows. He's always searching for someone to come out and surprise him, which is exactly what he'll be doing this time. He'll be too preoccupied searching for someone to surprise him, he won't be able to concentrate on the fight. If I can keep him thinking that someone's going to surprise him, then I can wear him out by the end of the fight and kill him off in one clean swipe. But the veil . . . I don't know why I chose to fight by there. I think..."

Dumbledore smiled affectionately and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You chose to fight there because the reason Sirius died is here tonight. You want to kill him in the same fashion that he killed your godfather through Bella." At the sound of the name, Harry growled in an almost animal-like manner. "I understand, Harry," Dumbledore said. "You have my full support in killing Voldemort in whatever way you see fit. If you wish to hex him through the veil as Bellatrix Lestrange did to Sirius, go right ahead. Be sure to know that I won't stop you in any way."

With another smile reminding Harry of an old grandfather, he walked off, and Harry realized just how old he was.

"How much time do we have until the feet of the world can rest again?" he whispered out loud. A movement next to him caused him to look at the disturbance.

"I think we only have a few hours," said Draco. He looked at Harry and said, "I tried to get Pansy and the others to come, but they wouldn't. The Dark Lord reigns terror wherever he goes. It's inevitable . . . this fight." Draco smiled, the first real smile Harry had ever seen on his pale face, and stuck out his hand. "Good luck, Harry."

'This night is just full of surprises," Harry thought as he shook his hand. "Thanks, Draco." The name was new on his lips, but it wasn't an unwelcome change. They walked around the Ministry, talking about what their lives would be after the war. Draco laughed when Harry told him that he expected Ron and Hermione to get married soon afterwards.

"That's actually one of the reasons I'm so anxious to fight him tonight," said Harry as they reached the Department of Mysteries. Memories flashed through his mind of what had happened two years previous. The veil . . . Harry and Draco approached it. With reverence, Harry walked around it and listened intently.

"Potter, what are you doing?"

"Hush," Harry said. He stood in front of the veil, trying to catch the whimsy material as it was pushed back and forth by an invisible wind. It was so eerie, but Harry knew that even though he could push back the veil, there was a whole world just out of reach. The ghosts and souls were hidden, taunting the living with their whispers. Why was it that only a certain few could hear them? Was it like the thestrals, that those who have seen death can also hear it? What magic was enchanted around this particular piece of art work?

Almost in a trance, Harry raised his wand and pointed it at the veil. The magic welled up inside of him, and slowly bubbled over. The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them, as if hypnotized.

"Morior Debello." The silence was deathly, and the magic was intoxicating. Harry was overwhelmed by the rush of feelings in him, but what were those words? What did he say? But, as strange as the words were to him, they felt right, like he had known them his whole life but never used them.

"Potter?" Harry turned around to face his caller. "Where did you learn that?" Draco asked him in a shaky voice. Fear was evident across his face.

"I don't know," he replied. It was true. He had never heard those words in his life. "What do they mean? Was it a spell? An incantation? What?"

Draco exhaled a nervous breath and walked around the archway. "It means to conquer death. I've heard the spell once, but I don't know what it does."

"It couldn't mean to bring back to life, could it?"

"No. No, that's impossible. There are no spells to bring back someone from the dead."

Harry's spirits fell. As he heard the definition of the spell, he was hoping against everything in his heart that perhaps, just maybe, this could bring back Sirius. But no, he remembered. There were no spells that could bring back the dead. But if that was true, why was there a feeling in the back of his mind that told him that this one, this spell, could do something to help him?

"What exactly does it mean?" he asked the blonde boy.

"Morior Debello, to conquer death. Exact translation. But, it's weird. That spell, it's what Voldemort used. That was his goal, that's his motto. He wants to conquer death. How did you learn it?"

"I said already, I don't know. There's just something about this veil, though. It stirs something around here. Do you hear them? The ghosts? They're just on the other side of the veil, whispering. I know there's a way for them to be released . . . I just have to figure it out." He turned to face the veil, again trying to catch the flailing material halfheartedly. It waved about, showing him that it was real, and yet it wasn't. It was just a mystery, like everything else in this department. Hence, the name the Department of Mysteries.

While all of this was happening, neither of them noticed the magic gathering in the air, or the feelings of the winds rising. Sparks were visible around them, and whenever either of them moved, the air around them would shimmer. It was amazing, but the two boys were oblivious. Not until the whispers were heard did they notice anything.

"Do you hear that?" asked Harry as he and Draco were about to leave. The time was coming, and rapidly, for Voldemort to arrive. They could feel his immense power approaching. But despite the warning in his head, Harry turned back around and studied the gateway again.

"Those voices," Harry said.

Draco laughed. "Potter, you have officially gone nuts. I always knew there was something wrong with you, aside from that scar. But voices? Now you have me completely convinced."

"Draco, have you ever seen someone die?" Harry asked quickly.

"What?"

"Have you ever seen someone die?" Harry repeated.

Soberly, Draco nodded. "My grandmother died right next to me when I was younger from a curse gone awry. A little bit over and it would have been me that it hit."

"Listen for a second, tell me what you hear."

Both of them were quiet, trying their best to keep their heads clear for whatever it was they were listening for. Almost from without a single sound to just below a whisper, the two of them could hear something, voices, whispering to each other from the direction of the veil.

"Now who's crazy, Draco?" Harry asked him.

"What are they?" he asked in awe. "I've never seen anything like this. What is this thing?" He was indicating the veil, but Harry didn't know.

"Sirius Black, my godfather, died here two years ago at the hands of your cousin Bellatrix Lestrange. However, he went through the veil, and didn't come out the other side. Luna Lovegood was here, too. She could hear them, she knew that they were there."

"Who's they, Potter? What are we hearing?"

"It's the voices of the dead. Only . . . I don't think they're actually dead. How are they still whispering to us and we can hear them if they're not ghosts? We can see ghosts, they've decided to stay behind and not go on. I think that this gateway is a cross path between the living and the dead, but . . . we haven't figured out how to cross it yet. I think there's still a way for us to see them, the dead, that is. I think I could still see Sirius again."

The voices were getting louder as Draco voiced his disbelief. Fairly quickly, Harry and Draco couldn't hear each other over the sounds of them.

"What are they talking about?" Draco asked as he moved closer to Harry. This was starting to freak him out, and if anyone had to die, it wasn't going to be him.

"They're talking about the past," Harry whispered. "They're-they're talking about Sirius!" he said louder. "They're saying that it wasn't his time to go yet . . . that he has to be returned. But that can't be right." He turned to Draco. "No one can raise the dead, there aren't any spells that can."

"But maybe there are spells that can give the dead power to raise themselves," said Draco intently. He was thinking hard, Harry could tell that. "Your spell, I think it invoked something in them, like it gave them power. It said 'conquer death,' how do we know that it doesn't mean that death can conquer the hold on them? If what you're saying is true, then it's not possible for the living to raise the dead, but if the spirits beyond aren't dead, as you say, then maybe it's possible for them to still come back."

The spirits were whispering more, now, but not about Sirius. They were saying Harry's spell, over and over, faster and faster. "Morior Debello," they said. The magic in those words fluttered the veil harder, making it wave back and forth. They could see the flashes in the air, the seemingly rips in time. Lightning cackled, making the blood in Harry's veins boil.

"Is that the best you got?" Harry heard someone shout. It was so familiar, just like Sirius had said before he was killed. Harry could feel the magic taking hold of him, and he wasn't reluctant to give in. He let it push him towards the veil, right to the very edge, where he saw the whole thing exactly as he had two years previous. He saw Sirius laughing and dodging the spells of his cousin Bella easily. He saw his smile as he shouted the words Harry had just heard, but he saw something else. When Sirius had yelled those words, the spell came at him, catching him off guard and sending him through the veil.

But that didn't happen this time. When Sirius shouted those words, Harry saw himself on the other side of the veil, and he realized that he wasn't viewing it from a normal perspective. He was seeing the actual fight, just as it had occurred two years past, and that it would have the same outcome. Harry saw himself as he was watching Sirius get hit by the spell and fall backwards into the veil, right into himself. Harry caught him, falling under the sudden unexpected weight.

"Whoa!" both of them yelled at the same time. Harry shook his head. He couldn't believe it. Sirius Black, his dead godfather, was sitting on his stomach, thoroughly shook. It couldn't be true. It wasn't possible. He saw him die, he saw him go through the veil and not out the other side-

"Sirius?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"And who else would I be? Come on, now, Harry, you don't recognize me anymore? I don't look that much different, do I?"

'In one side, and out the other . . ."' Harry thought. 'A cross between the living and dead . . . or maybe-' "A cross between times?" Harry said out loud. He looked over at Draco, who had passed out in a daze. "Not through both sides, but not totally dead . . . whispers about not his time to die . . . maybe not his actual time! It wasn't his time to die, so he crossed over to another-"

"Harry, what are you whispering about?" Sirius asked as he got up. He reached down and held his hand out for Harry. The Boy-Who-Lived looked at the hand tentatively, and cautiously reached out and grasped it. As soon as flesh touched flesh, Sirius' grasp closed around his own in a firm hold and pulled him up. "Honestly, you look like you've seen a ghost."

It was proof enough for Harry. With tears in his eyes he faced the man he spent eleven years never knowing, two years worrying about, and two years grieving. "Sirius," he whispered. "It's good to see you safe." He hugged his godfather, though not nearly as hard as he would have liked to. Sirius apparently didn't know that he had crossed times, nor did he notice yet that the fight that had been happening was no longer going on. As long as he didn't ask about it, Harry wasn't going to say anything. He'd explain it all later.

Harry smiled again, brushing his eyes and walking over to where Draco lay in a heap on the floor. It looked like a painful position, so first he moved him to a laying stance and then muttered, "Enervate," waking the blonde boy up. Draco sat up and brushed the hair from his eyes. He eyed Sirius again, gazing warily at Harry for a moment before pulling him aside.

"What does he know?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing. And I intend to keep it that way. Go run ahead and tell the others, I don't want to freak any one out or have a bombard of questions just before Voldemort gets here. I'll explain as best as I can right now."

Draco nodded and stepped aside. "Good to see you, Sirius," he said before making his leave. His robes fluttered in an almost Snape-like manner.

Harry watched him leave, worried about what the reactions of the others would be, before turning back to his own problem. "Sirius, can I talk to you for a second?" Harry asked him.

"Sure, Harry, what is it? But make it quick, we still have a battle to fight." Sirius pulled out his wand and twirled it in his fingers with familiar grace. His every movement was a painful recognition for Harry as he recalled the past two years without Sirius, knowing that he would see him again, but not knowing how. And now, here he was, standing in front of him, absolutely clueless that it was two years later than what his mind set was in. "Hey, you look a lot older than you did before. What happened? You're aging prematurely like Remus, are you?"

Harry laughed lightly and shook his head. "Good," Sirius said. "Now what's this about? We have to get back to the fight-"

"It's not the same fight, Sirius."

"What are you talking about? I was just in there, fighting Bella. Lord, her spells are so weak. How she ever managed to become a Death Eater right hand is beyond me."

"Bella's dead. She died last year," Harry said.

Sirius chuckled. "What are you talking about, Harry? I was just in there, fighting with her. You saw me, you the shout-" He stopped, realization suddenly dawning. "Look out," he whispered. "What happened with her spell?"

"You were hit, Sirius. It knocked you backwards, into the veil."

"But that veil - it's just that, a veil," he said determinedly. "Isn't it?"

Harry shook his head. "Look, to put it simply, it wasn't your time to die. So . . . you were pushed into the veil, and into a different time. Two years into the future is where you are now, and I think that this time is where you're supposed to die. You weren't supposed to live those two years because we needed you here, for this battle. Tonight is the final battle, and everyone thinks you're dead for two years. When you walk through those doors, you're going to be met by stares, questions, and magic. You're going to help us defeat Voldemort once and for all, tonight. He thinks you dead, too, so seeing you is going to be a shock to the past. And with any luck-" Harry looked at the veil- "It literally will be."

Sirius shook his head. "I don't think I quite get it, but if tonight is the final battle, as you say, then let's go. I don't want to waste any more time. Come on, I want to see old Moony's face when he sees me. If what you say is true, then this'll be the most fun I've had in-" he stopped and calculated- "fourteen years."

With a smile on both their faces, elation in Harry's stomach and thoughts of the upcoming battle in their minds, both of them walked through the doors to to Entrance Hall to meet exactly what Harry said.