Disclaimer: I do not intend to profit from the use of JK Rowling's characters and settings. I appreciate being allowed to play with them for my own amusement – if no one else's.
Harry just wanted to enjoy the last few minutes of sunshine. They had miraculously escaped Gringott's with the cup Horcrux and managed to get off the newly freed dragon after hours of flight without major injury. Surely he'd earned the right to sit in the grass in his dry clothes with half a bottle of butterbeer in his hand and pretend that he was just a normal teenager out with his two best friends. He let his eyes drift close appreciating the quiet and the warmth of the late afternoon sunshine. He should have realized as drained as he was he'd fall asleep.
Nightmares were a common occurrence for Harry. Even without Voldemort invading his sleep, his dreams were never peaceful. His anxiety for his friends' safety, guilt over what had happened already and fears what would come next did not lend itself to lengthy, blissful slumber. This particular one only made an appearance once or twice a month. Evidently, neither the passage of two years nor reassurances from those directly involved seemed to ease the guilt. He hated this dream in particular because it was stark reality not some bizarre imaginings of an overly tired or stressed subconscious.
On the dais at the bottom of amphitheater stood the stone gate with its' sheer, black, tattered curtain waving as if being blown by some undetectable breeze. He could hear the whispers emanating from it even as he sought to focus on the battle being fought all around him. He berated himself again for falling into such an obvious trap.
Five members of the Order had arrived just in time. The insane but deadly Bellatrix shooting curse after curse. Harry with Neville's help combated another of Voldemort's followers, Macnair. Sirius launching himself on Dolohov to keep him from stunning the two of them. Lupin providing cover from Lucius Malfoy, who was attempting to obtain the sphere Harry carried. The brief surge of hope when Dumbledore arrived and the tide began to turn. Harry was slowly making progress up the steps with a jinxed Neville when Sirius' voice rang out tauntingly, "You'll have to do better than that!" Harry turned to see his still grinning godfather hit in the chest by one of Bellatrix's stunning spells and propelled through the veil. He watched helplessly as the man he had come to rescue fell through the portal beyond his reach forever. Harry tried to follow him. Remus held on to him with all the strength the werewolf possessed. No amount of pleading or lashing out could persuade his former professor to let go until Harry accepted that there was no getting Sirius back.
Sudden and excruciating pain in his scar jolted him from his dream. Harry cried out as he sat bolt upright.
Hermione and Ron were at his side in an instant. Hermione noticed the tears leaking from Harry's eyes not realizing they had nothing to do with the physical pain he was experiencing, but rather a reaction to having just relived the death of his godfather. She took one of his hands in hers trying to offer support and comfort without disturbing his connection to He Who Must Not Be Named.
"Come on, mate. Tell us what's happening."
Harry was once again privy to glimpses of what Voldemort was doing and explained to them what he was witnessing. "You Know Who is at Gringott's. The goblins just told him that we stole the cup." Harry sucked in his breath through gritted teeth as the pain in his scar intensified further. "He's taking his anger out on everyone inside the bank. He killed he goblin who told him as well as some of his own followers."
Harry watched for another moment as Voldemort compounded the damage to the bank started by the dragon. He felt the dark wizard's growing concern for his other Horcruxes. Images of the locations he had hidden them passed through his mind: the Gaunt hovel, the lake and Hogwarts. He felt the wizard's concern for his snake, Nagini. Harry broke the connection mentally pulling himself away.
He'd been right. Voldemort had hidden one of the Horcruxes at the school. The time had come for them to return to Hogwarts. It was now a race. One they could not afford to lose.
Sirius slowly came to his senses. As he rolled to his side, he noticed a complete absence of the sounds of the fight. He opened his eyes and was greeted to the sight of no one being in the chamber.
How long was I out for? Where is everyone? Sirius forced himself to his knees.
"Harry?" He called out just above his normal speaking voice. Surely his godson wouldn't have allowed him to be abandoned here.
"Dumbledore?" Sirius shouted this time. He had seen the wizard storm into the room. Nothing.
'When in doubt, wand out.' Black picked his wand up off the stone floor and held it at the ready as he got unsteadily to his feet. The first of his seven Defense Against the Dark Art instructors had been fond of that tidbit of wisdom. He noticed several doors along the top row of the room and made his way towards the closest. The door opened easily for him and he found himself in a room with tanks filled with green fluid holding what appeared to be brains. He didn't remember seeing those earlier, but he continued on through the door at the far end and found himself in the circular black hall. Thank Merlin, Mad Eye had shown them how to control the room.
"Exit." He shouted once the room ceased revolving. The door at his three o'clock gusted open and Black hastened to it. Cautious behavior did not come instinctively to Sirius even after his time in the Order, but the absolute quiet of the hall was unexpected. He worked his way quickly and quietly down the hall towards the lifts. None of them were running. If he used it, the entire building would be alerted. He looked left and right down the short corridor. Every building magical or muggle had stairs in case of emergency and the Ministry was no exception. He spotted the sign and ran for the door. He entered the stairwell and looked up. He was not looking forward to the climb.
As he quietly trudged up the steps, he started to plan what needed to happen when he reached the lobby on the main floor. He couldn't use the floo network as Grimmauld Place wasn't connected, but as it was the primary entrance and exit for the Ministry, he should be able to apparate once he reached the designated area. The question was where to go. Should he go to his house or to Hogwarts? Maybe he should go to St. Mungo's? He ruled that out as quickly as he formed the thought. You're a wanted man. Let's try not to get arrested or have to go on the run again.
He hadn't climbed two more steps when he looked down at himself. He was still one of the most wanted criminals in Britain and he was walking through the Ministry without so much as a glamour or disillusionment charm in place. What in the name of Godric Gryffindor was he thinking?
He hastily vanished himself and added a Notice Me Not charm as well. Sirius resumed his ascent and let his mind return to the problem of where to go. He finally conceded that without knowing what was going on and why he'd woken up alone in that room returning to Grimmauld Place was the best idea.
He was more than a little winded not to mention sweaty by the time he reached the main floor. He stood to the side of the door trying to catch his breath. He could do this. He'd broken out of Azkaban for Merlin's sake. He'd stay close to the walls out of everyone's way and he'd make it to the apparition point without anyone being the wiser.
He eased open the door just enough to slip through and closed it noiselessly behind him. He looked out into the lobby and froze. WHAT THE FUCK!
He unconsciously started walking toward the center of the lobby. He always hated the contrived golden statues. The ridiculous expressions of the house elf, goblin and centaur turned his stomach, but what stood in its place was beyond disturbing. He knew beyond a doubt that had not been there when he'd arrived to rescue Harry and his friends.
In the middle of the floor dominating the hall like the golden fountain never had was a massive black stone rendering of a witch and wizard on thrones. Wait, not thrones, but people? Naked men, women and children stacked to support the attractive, elegantly robed magical couple. It was revolting. Then he noticed the phrase carved in four foot letters at the base of the sculpture, MAGIC IS MIGHT. Were the bodies were supposed to represent Muggles?
It instantly became clear that something was desperately wrong. He needed to find his godson and Merlin help him he might need to find Dumbledore even more. First and foremost, however, he needed to get the hell out of here.
A/N -Thank you for the encouragement by way of your favorites and follows. I hope you continue to enjoy this story.