I would say new and improved chapter but its not particularly different so yeah...

Bits have changed. Spot the difference:)

Of ministries and mysteries

The night air was biting as they flew over the bright, twinkling stars of city lights. Ron shivered and wrapped his Hogwarts robe closer around him, clinging desperately onto what felt like fur under his fingers.

It was eerie. He could see nothing underneath him, although he knew he had to be sitting on something. Ron couldn't help but get the feeling that the bony thing he was sitting on would disappear he would drop to the ground any moment soon.

Ahead of him, Ron could see the dark forms of his friends flying a little ahead of him. It was like they were flying, hanging onto the cold, thin air (although the effect was ruined by their somewhat odd postures). Harry was at the head of the group, face intent and focused. That face… he really was serious.

Ron had seen that expression back in first year, when they were trying to get the philosopher's stone off of Quirrell – the unmoving eyes staring at some point in the distance, the grim line of his mouth. Determination that could have brought mountains down given enough time. He had admired that. Bloody hell, he had been jealous of that.

People admired Harry Potter because he was a hero. Ron admired his best friend because he would never ever give up. However much it hurt him, however hard he had to work, once he set himself a goal, there was nothing that could stop his way.

It scared him. You Know Who was a formidable enemy, the strongest Dark Lord, and Ron had a gut gnawing fear growing inside of him. What happens when a thing that never gives up meets an unbeatable enemy? The thing breaks, was the answer. And Ron didn't want Harry to break.

Ron hated himself sometimes. He didn't have the perseverance of Harry, nor the intelligence of Hermione, and it was times like these that Ron wondered why on Earth he was here.

Suddenly, Harry dived sharply downwards. With a tug, Ron felt the thestral underneath him follow, yanking his hand. He nearly lost his balance but with a furious yank, he managed to press himself against the solid surface underneath him. His stomach lurched slightly. The city lights grew and grew steadily until they made it to a quiet street.

"Is everybody here," Harry asked. Ron looked around. Ginny, Hermione, Neville, Luna…

"I think so," he said. Harry nodded.

"This way," he said quietly and led the way down the dark street. A few metres away stood a worn red phone box and walking up to it, Harry yanked the wooden door open. It emitted a screeching creak as it did so.

"Is this it?" Hermione asked, hesitation apparent in her voice.

"Yes," Harry answered. They filed in quickly and Harry pushed a few buttons on the ancient looking phone.

Welcome to the Ministry of Magic.

Run gulped, suddenly nervous.

-o0o-

It was too easy. Far, far too easy.

Hermione ran with the rest of the group and kept her mouth tightly shut, but she still could not help the trickle of unease tracing her spine. She knew it was night, but the Ministry of Magic should not be this easy to infiltrate. Hermione had expected traps, aurors on patrol, alarms… at the very least some surveillance equipment.

Nothing. Every floor they went passed was as silent and dark as the last.

Maybe it's just luck, Hermione thought. She kept her thoughts to herself. It wouldn't do to worry Harry, not in this state and besides, it was probably nothing.

They arrived at the bottom floor, wand points illuminated. A long corridor stretched outward and Hermione gasped as her mind registered a connection. This was the corridor that Harry had described to them, the corridor of his nightmares. It was dark and forbidding. Mr Weasley had been attacked here, Hermione realised. She felt a little sick.

"Are you sure about this, Harry?" she said, keeping her voice to a soft whisper. It still seemed to echo around the stone tiles, horribly loud. "We are walking into a trap."

"They're around here somewhere," Harry said. It was a little distant, desperate. Hermione did not point out the statement had not answered the question.

The door to the Department of Mysteries opened with no resistance.

They travelled further into the underground complex, Harry running forward in search of his godfather. Suddenly they came to a large room, full of line after line of shelves filled with white orbs. Hermione paused.

"What is this?" Ron asked out loud, voicing Hermione's thoughts perfectly. Stopping, Harry put out an arm to stop them.

"Here," Harry hissed. "This is it." Hermione froze.

"Harry, you said there were Death Eaters."

The whole group froze. Hermione's nerves were on fire, expecting anyone – from either side – to burst out of the dark any second. She was having second thoughts about their rather hastily made plan. If they got themselves injured, they would be more of an inconvenience to the people they were here to help. Perhaps they should have just relied on the Order to look after themselves…

Nothing happened.

"Maybe they're waiting outside," Ron whispered. He looked a little green.

Harry started off quicker down the path, the hand clutching his hand white at the knuckles, illuminated by wandlight. After a moment of hesitation, Hermione followed. All was quiet. A small slither of doubt entered Hermione's mind.

"Harry…" she said.

"Nearly there," Harry said, although it was more to himself then to anybody else. "Nearly there." There was still nothing. Harry stopped.

"Why?" he said. He spun round, looking. "What…?"

"Harry…" Hermione repeated. The doubt came to realisation – Harry was wrong. And that could only mean one thing.

This was a trap.

But not for the Order. For them.

"Harry, we need to get out of here," Hermione said urgently. Harry had gone as pale as the orbs that surrounded them. He nodded soundlessly, eyes wide. All of Hermione's brain was a whirl, trying to figure out what to do.

"What's this?" It was Ron, staring at one of the named plaques underneath a glass ball. Hermione focused on it and as she read the name, she gasped.

He who must not be named

Harry Potter (?)

"Why has this got your name on it?" his asked. Harry was at his side in an instant. He reached out an arm to grab it.

"Harry!" Hermione called out. Harry stopped, his hand floating mid-air.

"What?" he asked. Was he stupid? Surely he wasn't that careless, Hermione thought desperately.

"It might be dangerous," Hermione explained. She shouldn't have agreed to come here, Hermione knew that clearly now. The fear inside her was a physical weight against her chest and she struggled to hold her wand steady. They needed to get out as soon as possible but Hermione suddenly found her legs frozen.

"It has my name on it," Harry said, sounding almost enchanted. With that, he plucked the orb from the shelf.

Hermione knew they were in trouble the moment the air went cold and a small woosh emitted behind her.

Lucious Malfoy was one man Hermione did not want to see. She didn't have time to deeply contemplate how much she despised the sneering aristocrat, when all around them, Death Eaters apparated, solid shapes emerging from the inky black mist. Horror clung to Hermione, wrapping around her and freezing her to the spot as the group was assembled, wands pointing at Harry and his friends.

Malfoy stepped forward.

"Now, Potter, hand it over," he said, gesturing towards the white orb in Harry's hand. Hermione was confused but alert – for some reason, it was not the orb Harry had seen in his dream that they wanted but the one in his hand.

"Where's Voldemort," Harry asked, holding the orb tighter. There was a crack and one of the orbs next to Harry exploded. A few haunting whispers trickled out, although they were quickly lost in the gloom.

"Don't you dare speak the Dark Lords name you filthy half-blood!"

It really wasn't a good day for them. Hermione recognised the woman who stepped out of the crowd – her wild hair and heavily lidded eyes that were quite in focus, dancing with a mad light that gave the impression of insanity. Bellatrix Lestrange, escaped convict. From what Hermione had read on her, she supposed her first impression was the correct one. Nobody would describe that particular Death Eater as sane.

Hermione raised her wand higher, backing up against the wall. Around her, the rest of them did the same.

"I know he's here," Harry said, voice steady despite the situation. Bellatrix looked ready to hex them on the spot but Malfoy raised a hand to stop her.

Don't aggravate them, Hermione thought desperately in her head. She tried to convey the message in a single, pleading glance but Harry didn't catch it.

"Is he scared of a bunch of students?"

There was an infinite second of a pause and Hermione briefly contemplated whether nothing was going to happen.

"Harry Potter."

The whispering hiss made Hermione's spine crawl.

In the absolute stillness of the frigid air, a pin could have been heard dropping a mile off. Hermione was afraid to turn, to meet the snakelike voice with its drawn out constants, for fear that if she saw what it was, the nightmare would be cemented in reality. It was too late though. Instinct got the better of her and she spun – the world in slow motion – to face the speaker.

It was the first time Hermione had looked into the face of Lord Voldemort.

She felt like she had slipped into one of Harry's nightmares. The imposing shadow, impossibly tall, with long slits where a nose should be, the crimson hue of cold eyes… Hermione recognised them from Harry's description. It was so unreal, as though she was watching a film and she felt a little numb too. Perhaps fear, like pain, stopped being felt when it became too much.

Voldmort's wand was out and its pale hue glinted from the long sleeve of his black robes. He studied the group of teenagers with a smirk twitching at his lips.

"I thought you would come," he said.

Harry's sharp intake of breath jolted Hermione out of her shock and suddenly she felt the adrenaline rushing in her veins. The grip on her wand tightened.

"Where's the Order?" Harry asked. He gripped the orb tightly.

Voldemort gave a soft laugh. It was barely a sound, more a silent opening of his mouth, but it reverberated deep in Hermione's ears.

"How impolite of them to be late on such an occasion, don't you think? You would wonder if they were coming at all."

Of course Harry hadn't suspected his dream was a fake one, despite his raised awareness of their connection. It wasn't a fake dream. It was a real one – horribly real – only that Voldemort had twisted the message. Harry thought they were saving the Order. In reality they had rushed into their own trap trying to prevent it. The irony nearly made Hermione laugh.

A self-fulfilling prophecy.

-o0o-

"Give me the prophecy, Potter," Voldemort hissed holding out his hand in front of Harry. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have not worked it out? He glanced at his friends, face pale with fear, and came to the crushing sensation that he had let them down, again.

He looked at the white orb in his hand, the one that had recently been sitting on a shelf labelled with his name. This was the weapon Voldemort wanted – a prophecy. Was it worth his friend's lives? Everything Harry did seemed to backfire on him, after all; why should he even try to defy when apparently failure was his fate?

In the corner of his eye, he saw Ron. Their eyes met for an instant and suddenly Harry was not in front of Voldemort, but a chess board; they were not veterans in crazy antics but first years, still unsure about their place in the world.

We have to stop him.

Harry smiled; a small defiant grin. Seeing it, the whole group seemed to think as one, making a decision they couldn't turn back from.

"Never," he said.

Then, pointing his wand skywards, he shot off a spell. The rest of his friends did the same.

The effect was immediate. The balls of glass shattered, falling downwards like rain. The Death Eaters scattered and in that instant of hesitation, the group ran. They pushed passed the Death Eaters, away from Voldemort, and ran towards the exit. Harry sprinted like his life depended on it – it probably did – pushing through each step with all the energy he had.

"Stop them! STOP THEM NOW!"

"Come on!" Harry screamed, not bothering to look back to what Voldemort was now doing.

They burst through the door. Where to? Harry didn't know where he was going. They continued to run through a few more rooms. Harry's mind was a blur – too focused on running to think coherently. Somehow they found themselves in a large hall. Harry's breath was ragged but he continued to run across the room, looking for an exit. He was suddenly glad Ed had trained them to be fitter; he didn't think he had ever run so much in his life and yet his stamina was holding.

"We need to…" Ron shouted from behind him but suddenly he was cut off. Harry spun round.

The Death Eater's had caught up with them.

Malfoy, at the front, raised his wand towards Hermione, a curse on his lips.

"Crut…!"

Hermione's eyes widened and she made a move to duck. Harry saw the scene in slow motion, mind ticking away, and he realised with despair that Hermione had reacted just a millisecond too late.

There was a small whoosh from behind Malfoy. Frowning, Harry looked behind the tall man and gasped.

"Shut up, Mal-boy," Ed said and swung a fist towards his head. Malfoy had enough time to open his eyes comically wide. Ed's hook hit with a dull thud that sounded as painful as it looked and Malfoy crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

For the first time in ages, Harry laughed. All around the room, Order members were apparating in one by one, throwing a hex as they arrived to the nearest Death Eater. Most of the cloaked figures, so surprised at their appearance, didn't realise what was going on until half of them were on the floor, stunned. Behind Harry, all five Hogwarts students were diving for cover.

"Idiot Mudblood!" a high voice screeched and the two boys looked to see Bellatrix Lestrange pointing a wand at them with a wild look in her eyes.

Harry's first instinct was to dodge and he did just that, pulling Ed's black school robe down with him. It seemed as though it was just in time too, as a streak of green light past only inches above them, right where they had been seconds before. Belatrix Lestrange was crackling oddly, like a mad witch from a muggle film – oh the irony – and with horror, Harry looked up to see her poised and ready to send another curse their way.

"Avada…" The killing curse, however, was cut short as she spotted a hex coming her way and hastily changed it to a shield charm. To his joy, Sirius was there standing there, eyes alight.

"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed. Harry thought his Godfather looked more alive than ever, illuminated by the firework display of spells around him, eyes more sharp and focused than they had been since confronting Pettigrew a year before.

Bellatrix's black eyes, mirroring his, were also wild with insane joy.

Ed was wincing as he picked himself off the ground.

"Thanks," he muttered quickly to Harry before turning. He clapped and pressed his hands to the ground. A metre away, a wall sprung up between Neville and a Death Eater before collapsing on the tall figure who had his wand raised.

"Let's move!" Ed ducked as another stream of light flashed over their heads. In the middle of the room, Bellatrix and Sirius were firing off a volley of spells so quickly that they were little more than a blur of bright lights.

Ed tugged on his arm.

"Ed! The prophecy!" Harry said, pulling back. Ed turned round.

"What?" he asked.

"The sphere!" Harry elaborated, pointing to the glass ball lay on the stone ground. Its milky whiteness reflected none of the chaos above it, still glowing with the hypnotic mist whose movement showed impossible depth to the small object.

"Is it important?" Ed screamed.

"Yes," Harry answered. "I think it is!" Ed swore quietly under his breath.

They made their way towards the centre of the room, two dark shapes sneaking through the battlefield, Harry flicking up a shield charm or sending a hex towards any distracted Death Eaters Ed doing the same with stone walls. Somehow they made it all the way unscathed. Harry scooped up the glass ball.

"Got it! Lets…"

Harry froze as he saw Ed's gaze, frozen on the archway. His eyebrows were low over his clouded eyes, some unreadable expression flickering in the honey coloured depths.

"Ed, Ed!" Ed's eyes were slightly unfocused as he turned to Harry. "We need to go!" Ed nodded mutely.

Then his eyes trailed upwards, to Sirius and Belatrix still duelling with fiery determination to kill each other. The red flash of light, Sirius dodging…

Then the next curse.

There was just enough time for Harry's eyes to widen, his mouth to open in a half-hearted scream of warning as the brilliant green streak of light sailed through the air towards Sirius' chest. He could see every detail so clearly now – a high resolution film that was glowed in its intensity.

Sirius's arm was half poised to cast something. His sleeves waved in the wind created by his movement. There was a yellow handkerchief poking out of his breast pocket. The curse was heading straight towards it.

There was a clap from beside him and the ground was unravelling, shifting and changing but ever so slowly…

Why was everything so slow?

The light sailed through the half transmuted wall, taking a slither of the lightening white energy with it. The colours mixed, twisted and it was still sailing through the air. Sirius' face had changed, still half-laughing but the recognition that something was going wrong was there…

The scream ripped out of Harry's throat fully as the curse his Sirius over the heart and he toppled through the veil.

"SIRIUS!"

Was that Harry's scream? He didn't know he could make such a noise. It was like a feral animal, dashing across the cavern in a desperate attempt to reach the man who he seen as a parent; who had laughed at his insults to Snape, who had promised they could live together when his name was cleared. Who understood all his frustration, who listened when he was angry…

Harry's godfather, whose life was slipping from his fingers.

He has to come through.

The seconds ticked by. Somebody was shouting his name. They washed over him, muffled and unclear.

He has to come back.

Nothing. The veil flickered and shifted, twisting as though in agony before settling again.

He's not coming through.

Harry's world was crumbling around him.

When he tried to reach out to the world, they shunned him. When he tried to be understood, he was scandalised. When he tried to be helpful, he was a hinder. When he tried to save the people who were most important to them, he left himself more scarred than ever.

If this was fate, Harry thought bitterly, he had just about had enough with the world.

He turned to a laughing Bellatrix Lestrange, fully intent on murdering her tonight.

-o0o-

Ron looked around him, searching for Harry. Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna were relatively unscathed, if looking a little dazed. Ed sat a few metres away on one of the steps, hugging his knees tight to his body and his face closed, staring at the floor as though the world had ended. Ron supposed he must look the same, with the hollowness that he felt inside.

The scene was clearing now as Aurors and Order members came storming in, capturing any of the Death Eaters who were still left. Malfoy, who was busy saying every excuse he could think of, had blood running down his face – his nose was broken where he had hit the floor from Ed's punch. Ron hoped he would go to Azkaban. He certainly deserved it.

He could believe he hadn't seen this coming. He had been so sure, so sure that Harry was doing to right thing when they stormed the Department of Mysteries and now he knew it had been a trap all along. Should he have stopped Harry; would things have been different then?

"Are you alright," a man said calmly from besides where Ron was slumped on the cold stone floor. He was from the Order; Ron recognised him from last summer. Ron nodded. He hadn't been injured, although he was still worried sick about Harry.

"We're taking you back to Hogwarts," the man said.

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked. The man shook his head.

"I don't know, but Dumbledore is sorting it out." Ron nodded again, a little reassured. The Headmaster would save them, as he always did.

They were making their way up stairs when suddenly another man, an auror interrupted the two.

"Have you heard the news!" he shouted.

"What news?" he asked.

"He Who Must Not Be Named was in the Ministry! It's true! He's back." The man next to Ron started, staring intently at the other's face.

"That -" the Order member said carefully, "is what Dumbledore has been trying to say for a year." The other man's face was pale.

Ron didn't know whether to be upset of elated. They couldn't deny he was back now. Not after he had been spotted in the Ministry. He wondered what would happen to Fudge, now it turned out he was wrong all along. And Umbridge too. A smile came to Ron's face as he saw the silver lining in a very black cloud for the first time.

"Where's Harry?" he asked again, loudly to draw the attention of the man.

"Who's this?" the auror asked.

"A student." The auror looked at Ron, studying him.

"Weasley's kid?" Ron nodded and the auror continued. "He's alright. Dumbledore sent him to Hogwarts. They're questioning the Headmaster now." Ron nodded again.

"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely.

Sometimes I feel like I stick to cannon too much. I'm not sure what else to do here though:/

Thank you for reading. Thank you especially to everyone who has reviewed.