So yeah. My first FF story in a few years. This might be a proper story depending on how much people like it, but it'll probably be a one-shot or something. Don't worry about grammar and spelling; I'm fairly proficient in writing the English language, as it's my first language. Formatting might be a problem, though. Let me know if you see any mistakes.

Anyway, on with the story! Also, Ron and Neville's positions are swapped for the sake of the plot.

"DON'D GIB ID DO DEM!" roared Ron, who seemed beside himself, kicking and writhing as Bellatrix drew nearer to him and his captor, her wand raised. "DON'D GIB ID DO DEM, HARRY!"

Bellatrix raised her wand. "Crucio!"

Ron screamed, his legs drawn up to his chest so that the Death Eater holding him was momentarily holding him off the ground. The Death Eater dropped him and he fell to the floor, twitching and screaming in agony, broken nose askew, and with blood poring from his nostrils.

"That was just a taster!" said Bellatrix, raising her wand so that Ron's screams stopped and he lay sobbing at her feet. She turned and gazed up at Harry. "Now, Potter, either give us the prophecy, or watch your best friend die the hard way!"

Harry did not have to think; there was no choice. The prophecy was hot with the heat from his clutching hand as he held it out. Malfoy jumped forward to take it.

Then, high above them, two more doors burst open and six more people sprinted into the room: Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks, Kingsley, and, surprisingly enough, Arthur Weasley.

Malfoy turned and raised his wand, but Arthur had already sent a Stunning Spell directly towards him, accompanied with a shout of "LEAVE MY SON ALONE!"

Harry did not wait to see whether it had made contact, but dived out of the way. The Death Eaters were completely distracted by the appearance of the members of the Order, who were now raining spells down upon them as they jumped from step to step toward the floor: Through the darting bodies, the flashes of light, Harry could see Ron crawling along. He dodged another jet of red light and flung himself flat on the ground to reach Ron.

"Are you okay?" he yelled, as another spell soared inches over their heads.

"Yeah mate," said Ron, trying to pull himself up.

"And Neville?"

"I dink he's all right — he was still fighding the brain when I left —"

The stone floor between them exploded as a spell hit it, leaving a crater right where Ron's hand had been seconds before. Both scrambled away from the spot, then a thick arm came out of nowhere, seized Harry around the neck and pulled him upright, so that his toes were barely touching the floor.

"Give it to me," growled a voice in his ear, "Give me the prophecy —" The man was pressing so tightly on Harry's windpipe that he could not breathe — through watering eyes he saw Sirius dueling with a Death Eater some ten feet away. Kingsley was fighting two at once; Tonks, still halfway up the tiered seats, was firing spells down at Bellatrix, and Arthur was fiercely dueling Lucius Malfoy — nobody seemed to realize that Harry was dying. . . . He turned his wand backward toward the man's side, but had no breath to utter an incantation, and the man's free hand was groping toward the hand in which Harry was grasping the prophecy —

"AARGH!"

Ron had come lunging out of nowhere: Unable to articulate a spell, he had jabbed Hermione's wand hard into the eyehole of the Death Eater's mask. The man relinquished Harry at once with a howl of pain and Harry whirled around to face him and gasped, "STUPEFY!"

The Death Eater keeled over backward and his mask slipped off. It was Macnair, Buckbeak's would-be killer, one of his eyes now swollen and bloodshot.

"Thanks!" Harry said to Ron, pulling him aside as Sirius and his Death Eater lurched past, dueling so fiercely that their wands were blurs. Then Harry's foot made contact with something round and hard and he slipped — for a moment he thought he had dropped the prophecy, then saw Moody's magic eye spinning away across the floor.

Its owner was lying on his side, bleeding from the head, and his attacker was now bearing down upon Harry and Ron: Dolohov, his long pale face twisted with glee.

"Tarantallegra!" he shouted, his wand pointing at Ron, whose legs went immediately into a kind of frenzied tap dance, unbalancing him and causing him to fall to the floor again. "Now, Potter —"

He made the same slashing movement with his wand that he had used on Hermione just as Harry yelled, "Protego!"

Harry felt something streak across his face like a blunt knife but the force of it knocked him sideways, and he fell over Ron's jerking legs, but the Shield Charm had stopped the worst of the spell.

Dolohov raised his wand again. "Accio Proph —"

Sirius hurtled out of nowhere, rammed Dolohov with his shoulder, and sent him flying out of the way. The prophecy had again flown to the tips of Harry's fingers but he had managed to cling to it. Now Sirius and Dolohov were dueling, their wands flashing like swords, sparks flying from their wand tips —

Dolohov drew back his wand to make the same slashing movement he had used on Harry and Hermione. Springing up, Harry yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!" Once again, Dolohov's arms and legs snapped together and he keeled over backward, landing with a crash on his back.

"Nice one!" shouted Sirius, forcing Harry's head down as a pair of Stunning Spells flew toward them. "Now I want you to get out of —"

They both ducked again. A jet of green light had narrowly missed Sirius; across the room Harry saw Tonks fall from halfway up the stone steps, her limp form toppling from stone seat to stone seat, and Bellatrix, triumphant, running back toward the fray. Sirius quickly switched opponents to Lucius Malfoy, keeping him occupied as Arthur moved to protect his son.

"Harry, take the prophecy, grab Ron, and run!" Arthur yelled, running past them to meet Bellatrix, Lucius Malfoy forgotten. Harry did not see what happened next: Kingsley swayed across his field of vision, battling with the pockmarked Rookwood, now mask-less; another jet of green light flew over Harry's head as he launched himself toward Ron — '

"Can you stand?" he bellowed in Ron's ear, as Ron's legs jerked and twitched uncontrollably. "Put your arm round my neck —" '

Ron did so — Harry heaved — Ron's legs were still flying in every direction, they would not support him and then, out of nowhere, a man lunged at them. Both fell backward, Ron's legs waving wildly like an overturned beetle's, Harry with his left arm held up in the air to try and save the small glass ball from being smashed.

"The prophecy, give me the prophecy, Potter!" snarled Lucius Malfoy's voice in his ear, and Harry felt the tip of Malfoy's wand pressing hard between his ribs.

"No — get — off — me . . . Ron — catch it!"

Harry flung the prophecy across the floor, Ron spun himself around on his back and scooped the ball to his chest. Malfoy pointed the wand instead at Ron, but Harry jabbed his own wand back over his shoulder and yelled, "Impedimenta!"

Malfoy was blasted off his back. As Harry scrambled up again he looked around and saw Malfoy smash into the dais on which Arthur and Bellatrix were now dueling, Sirius lying unconscious against a wall nearby. Malfoy aimed his wand at Harry and Ron again, but before he could draw breath to strike, Lupin had jumped between them.

"Harry, round up the others and GO!"

Harry seized Ron by the shoulder of his robes and lifted him bodily onto the first tier of stone steps. Ron's legs twitched and jerked and would not support his weight. Harry heaved again with all the strength he possessed and they climbed another step —

A spell hit the stone bench at Harry's heel. It crumbled away and he fell back to the step below: Ron sank to the ground, his legs still jerking and thrashing, and thrust the prophecy into his pocket.

"Come on!" said Harry desperately, hauling at Ron's robes. "Just try and push with your legs —"

He gave another stupendous heave and Ron's robes tore all along the left seam — the small spun-glass ball dropped from his pocket and before either of them could catch it, one of Ron's floundering feet kicked it. It flew some ten feet to their right and smashed on the step beneath them. As both of them stared at the place where it had broken, appalled at what had happened, a pearly-white figure with hugely magnified eyes rose into the air, unnoticed by any but them. Harry could see its mouth moving, but in all the crashes and screams and yells surrounding them, not one word of the prophecy could he hear. The figure stopped speaking and dissolved into nothingness.

"Harry, I'b sorry!" cried Ron, his face anguished as his legs continued to flounder, "I'b so sorry, Harry, I didn'd bean do —"

"It doesn't matter!" Harry shouted. "Just try and stand, let's get out of —"

"Dubbledore!" said Ron, his sweaty face suddenly staring over Harry's shoulder.

"What?" Asked Harry.

"Oh, hang on. Episkey!" He said, pointing his wand at Ron's nose.

"DUMBLEDORE!"

Harry turned to look where Ron was staring. Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Harry felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of his body — they were saved.

Dumbledore sped down the steps past Ron and Harry, who had no more thought of leaving. Dumbledore was already at the foot of the steps when the Death Eaters nearest realized he was there. There were yells; one of the Death Eaters ran for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore's wordless summoning spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line, and was followed through by a wordless stunner.

Only one couple were still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Arthur duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: He had a grim expression on his face, devoting all of his attention to the spells flying between them. The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest. His facial expression didn't change much, but his eyes widened in shock.

Ron struggled free from Harry, though he was unaware of doing so. Ron jumped down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore turned to the dais too.

It seemed to take Arthur an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. . . .

And Ron saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his father's haggard face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place.

Ron heard Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant cry, but knew it meant nothing — Arthur had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second. . . .

But Arthur did not reappear.

"DAD!" Ron yelled, "DAD!"

He had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Arthur must be just behind the curtain, he, Ron, would pull him back out again. . . .

But as he reached the ground and sprinted toward the dais, Lupin grabbed Ron around the chest, holding him back.

"There's nothing you can do, Ron —"

"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"

"It's too late, Ron—"

"We can still reach him —"

Ron struggled hard and viciously, limbs flailing, but Lupin would not let go. . . .

"There's nothing you can do, Ron . . . nothing. . . . He's gone."

-0o0-

"Where . . . Where am I?" were Arthur Weasley's words as he attempted to sit upright, wincing as he brought a hand to his head.

"You're here, of course! Where else could you be?" replied an unfamiliar, yet undeniably British accented voice.

"And where might here be?" he asked, as he opened his eyes and looked around. His mouth hung open and his eyes greedily drunk in the sight of numerous strange and peculiar (and apparently muggle) contraptions that surrounded his bed and littered the room, before focusing on a black haired man in a waistcoat who appeared to be the person who answered his question.

"You're in my workshop. Well, Cobstone Windmill, to be more specific," the man replied, as he pulled a chair towards the bed, sitting on it before resting his head on clasped hands.

"But enough about that, who are you? You're not from around here, I know that much. I'd have recognized you in a heartbeat!"

Arthur smiled slightly, the cheery disposition of the strange man putting him at ease.

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry. Where are my manners? My name's Arthur Weasley. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr . . . ?" he trailed off, uncertain of the stranger's name.

"Potts, Mr Weasley. Caractacus Potts."

I hope everyone enjoyed this short story! Leave a review if you:

A) Liked this story

B) Want this story to continue

C) Noticed a mistake

Chapter 2 is on the way due to popular demand.