Destiny Reversed

Chapter 5 Antithesis

Sirius fell through the veil. He was thrown backwards so slowly, so gracefully that the fall felt like an eternity to Harry's horrified eyes. His gaze locked on the falling figure –

Maybe, just maybe, Harry could reach him before he disappeared forever.

He ran, forgetting his injuries, the surrounding Death Eaters, Aurors, and friends, hurt, perhaps fatally; right now, all he could see was his godfather beginning to vanish from his sight.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he reached Sirius just in time, but was startled when Sirius's hand reached out and pulled Harry in with him. They tumbled through layer after layer of pure white cloth, the silk brushing against Harry's cheek with deceptive gentleness until gradually, the color began darkening. They soon found themselves surrounded by an assortment of grey swirls, the color tone varying the further along they got; eventually, the darkness engulfed them, and the black veil wrapped itself around Harry and Sirius, marking them with its imprint.

As he was being smothered by the cloth, Harry could have sworn he saw a speck of green in front of his eyes. He opened his mouth to demand the reason why Sirius had pulled them in, but his tongue was silenced as a rush of sharp, frigid air assaulted his face. He looked down, and immediately wished he hadn't.

They were falling for an eternity, two figures cloaked by the shadow of night. Below him was a greenish tint in an otherwise dark sky, which puzzled him greatly.

Sirius!

Don't worry, Harry, Sirius's voice echoed in his head, nothing bad will happen while I'm here. Harry bit his lip, disbelieving; but he trusted Sirius.

After all, what could Harry do while falling from the sky? Wind howled in his ears as he sped up, faster and faster they fell into nothingness. The emerald speck grew larger until its eerie brightness presented itself as a looming threat. His stomach sank horribly as he recognized the green symbol of terror, the emblem constantly imprinted in his nightmares–

The Dark Mark.

But they merely passed through the floating green clouds. Involuntary shivers possessed his body for a moment, but he stubbornly fought it off and looked down. Green filled his vision as he neared the highest tower. Wincing, he closed his eyes to block the blinding light out. When he opened them, a terrible sight beheld him.

Albus Dumbledore's limp body fell over the railing, his robes –once magnificent– billowing out behind him, his arms stretched out as if soaring. An eagle. A Phoenix.

No!

He was powerless. Still, he knew he couldn't leave him to die. Now that he was falling level with him, Harry desperately grabbed his mentor by the hand, attempting to yank the Headmaster upright again.

Leave him, Harry, there's nothing you can do.

No. I'm not just going to let him die again!

It's his time.

He looked again at Dumbledore's peaceful eyelids. Why?

Because sometimes you just have to be patient and let things run its course, Sirius said, his fierce gaze upon Harry. Remember that.

Before Harry could answer, they hit the ground.

BEEP! BEEP!

Harry Potter awoke with a start, automatically grabbing his wand and pointing it at the darkness. Groggily, he tried to identify where he was; this didn't look like Privet Drive. He absorbed the Quidditch poster, the bookshelf filled with Wizarding books, and everything came flooding back. Right, so his parents were alive, Sirius was alive, he had a prankster sister, and Neville is "the Chosen One."