Authors Note: Sorry for not updating sooner. I was all ready to post . . . and then Monday came around and I GOT THE SIXTH BOOK!!! Can you say excitement!? Anyway, I got all immersed in the book, and I ended up reading it in three hours. All I'm going to say now is . . . sad . . . so sad . . . there were a lot of tear jerker moments.
Anywho, for those who HAVE read the book, I'd love nothing more than to rant about it, so send me a PM and we can reminicse in all those FANG filled memories (: Also, comparing my story to the book . . . how awesome am I at predicting some things unintentionally?
Fang: I do have to admit, I look pretty dang good on this cover.
Me: You look hot all the time.
Fang: What?
Me: Nothing.
Fang: *gives me a suspicious look*
Chapter -:Thirty Six:-
The Department of Mysteries
After that, and up to a certain point, everything was a blur to me.
It was strange really, what occured. It was like I was in control of my body, but I wasn't really there. My body was just a tool, and I was sitting somewhere else, looking on through a plate glass window, at the controls.
I followed the others dutifully, not asking questions. I didn't argue when we were all piled into a teeny tiny phone booth, despite the major claustrophobia I felt. I just punched in the number 'six, two, four, four, two' and accepted my visitors badge that proclaimed; Maximum Ride, Rescue Mission. I didn't make any suggestions as Harry hurried through the many halls and corridors of the Ministry of Magic, not gawking for even a second at the lack of people. It didn't even faze me as we all toppled out of the tin can elevator when the cool, smooth voice had announced our arrival at the Department of Mysteries. Then we all turned simultaneously to stare at the black, nondescript door at the end of the hall.
At that point though, I couldn't help but hesitate.
Harry noticed quickly, turning and asking, "What's wrong Max?"
"I . . . I've seen that door before. I've seen it in a vision," I informed him, taking a few cautious steps towards it.
That got everyone's attention.
"Before we go on . . . Max, you have to tell us what else you've seen," Hermione said.
"I can't. The door . . . when I saw it, it was in one of my Flash visions; where I only see brief glimpses of any number of things . . . I wouldn't be able to tell you anything unless I saw it right in front of me," I replied truthfully, rubbing at my temples and trying to concentrate.
"That's alright then. Don't strain yourself, just try to pay close attention to things. Make sure you speak up if anything's familiar," Ron suggested, trying to be helpful.
I nodded, coming to stand beside Harry. He looked at me peculiarly for a moment, and I raised an eyebrow in question. He hesitated before saying quietly so only I could hear; "You haven't . . . you haven't had any visions about Sirius have you? About whether or not he lives through all this?"
I bit my lip, shaking my head sadly. I wish I could give him a yes or no answer, but I just didn't have any idea.
He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath while nodding his head slowly before saying in a measured tone, "All right then . . . Okay, everybody . . . It's now or never. Are you all sure you want to do this? I would understand completely if you chose to turn around and go home."
"We won't abandon you Harry," Neville said, gripping his wand tightly and putting on a brave face.
"This is what you've been training us for," Luna piped up in that lucid tone of hers.
"Right then . . . let's go," and with that Harry marched towards the door. He didn't even so much as raise his hand before it swung open and he crossed the threshold as if he had anticipated exactly that.
I entered second, taking in the large circular room with it's miraid of doors.
"I think I've seen this before too . . . except it was different somehow. There were no doors in some of the phases . . . except for one instance."
"That's actually good news. It means we're on the right track," Hermione insisted, trying to smile but failing miserably.
"I know where we're going. I mean, I'll know it when I see it, that is," Harry replied, glancing around.
As the last person stepped into the room there was a low rumbling sound that slowly started to build up. I whipped my head around quickly, looking for the source, but there was nothing . . . Nothing but the now rotating walls.
Piffle.
Seemingly in consciousness and out . . .
I stared in wonder all around me, glancing at the towering shelves full of glass orbs. All of them were coated in a thick layer of dust, and particles flew through the air as I walked over to a section and peered closer at the balls, my breath scattering the dust. Everything had a blue sheen, courtesy of the faint blue flames of the candles issued every so often on the shelves.
Behind me the others were in a flurry of activity, searching for Sirius I presumed, and I didn't really notice when their voices continued to get farther and farther away. All my attention was consumed by the glass orbs and the mystery of what they could possibly be for.
I ran my hands along the shelf as I walked slowly, staring intently at them all. Below each their was a yellowing tag with a name written on it. So far I didn't recognize any, but I wasn't exactly that connected with the wizarding world.
Then I saw a name that forced me to a halt, made my breath catch in my throat and my heart to stop beating alltogether.
Maximum Ride, written in a spidery calligraphy was scrawled hastily across it, seeming to stand out from all the rest, almost as if it were begging me to notice, pleading to be taken by my hand.
With a surprisingly steady grip I reached out and skimmed my fingers across the surface of the sphere, relishing in the warmth emanating from it, which was surprising since it looked like nothing had touched it for years.
That was when the world around me was launched into chaos.
Shelves began crashing to the ground, the glass orbs on them shattering into fragmented pieces. Chunks of matter rained down on my head and after stuffing the sphere with my name on it into my pocket I used both arms to shield myself from the wreckage. I could hear voices shouting and screaming in horror and aggravation, and I didn't recognize any of them, which told me that this was not good.
Instinct took over then, and I fled the room, escaping out the way we had came. I continued to run, jogging through door after door, trying to hide effectively from whatever was chasing us. Worry for the others surged in my mind, but I banished it quickly. They were all smart kids. They would know how to get away . . .
Oh who was I kidding? I had to go back and find them.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed as I had run through the endless maze of doors, but it hadn't been quick . . . Not to mention the time it would take me to retrace my steps. By then it might be too late . . . I had to try though.
With a sudden surge of speed I sprinted into the room with those nasty looking brains, skidding to an abrupt halt when I caught sight of Ginny leaning haphazardly against a table leg. I looked around, taking a head count.
"Report!" I yelled without thinking, as if this were the flock.
"What?" Ginny groaned, giving me a strange look.
I sighed and exclaimed, "Everyone tell me what the hell is wrong with them!"
"My ankle," Ginny moaned, her head lolling backwards.
"My bose is broken," Neville said.
"Hermione and Luna are knocked out, and Ron is being suffocated by a brain," Ginny supplied with the status of the rest of our group.
"What about Harry?" I demanded, not even fazed by the disasterous situation.
"He lured the Deatheaters away," Ginny replied, gesturing to a door a few feet away from me.
"Come on Neville!" I shouted, walking purposefully towards the doorway.
"Waid! Whad aboud Ron?" Neville asked, gesturing to the boy wrestling on the ground with one of the horrific looking brains.
"Stay here and help him then! I can't just leave Harry with all those Deatheaters by himself! It's suicide. He's as good as dead. Besides, he could use my expertise in this certain area. Fighting is what I do."
Neville turned his attention back to Ron, asking him, "How are you faring? Do you dhink you can handle id by yourdelf?"
"Get this off me!" Ron screamed.
Neville seemed torn then. He didn't know whether to stay and assist Ron so he didn't die by the hands . . . or tentacles . . . of a brain; or come with me to save Harry from certain death.
I, on the other hand, couldn't wait any longer. Without a second thought I spun around and sprinted off through the door. Neville could either follow me, or stay behind. It was his choice.
I was only a few feet into the room when I almost lost my footing and fell. Luckily I had seen the step a split second before I had reached it. I stumbled to a halt and looked on in horror at the scene unfolding before me.
Harry was standing beside the veiled arch, a glass orb not entirely unlike my own in his hand. He was surrounded by jeering Deatheaters, completely trapped. At that moment I heard one of them speak, and they sounded too much like one Draco Malfoy for my own comfort.
"You are not in a position to bargain, Potter," they sneered visciously. "You see, there are ten of us and only one of you . . . or hasn't Dumbledore ever taught you how to count?"
"He's dot alone!" a voice exclaimed from behind me, and I swiveled my head around a bit to see Neville standing proudly at my back.
Harry began yelling incoherantly at us to go back, but I firmly stood my ground. Neville even began trying to fire spells at the Deatheaters, but with his nose he wasn't pronouncing the words right, and I was pretty sure he was using Hermione's wand. Suddenly a huge Deatheater came out of nowhere and snatched Neville up from behind, pinning his arms to his sides so he couldn't use his wand. To give the kid credit he gave up a mighty fight, but he was no match for the strong Deatheater.
I, on the other hand, could most definitely take him.
"Let. Him. Go," I growled menacingly, and I didn't miss the way the Deatheater hesitated before giving a great big booming laugh, as if the idea that a sixteen year old girl could defeat him was impossible.
"I'll ask you one more time . . . Let him go," I said, the hostility clear in my voice.
"Be a good dear and run along now. Go back to your friends and leave right this instance, and you won't get hurt," he said, giving me what I assumed was supposed to be a reassuring smile. It made me want to throw up my lunch.
"Not a chance you nimrod," I spat, getting into a fighting stance. This seemed to amuse him greatly, and all I could do was smile innoncently back. He had no idea what was coming for him.
With exaggerated movements I lifted my right hand, palm facing the ceiling. My smile turned into a malicious grin and I concentrated on one shape in my mind. I could tell by the way the Deatheaters eyes had widened that my own iris' had transformed in color, taking on a bloody crimson hue. Then the flames appeared in my hand, coiling from my skin and traveling upwards like a funnel, until I held a deadly dagger of fire in my hand.
Now the Deatheater was so big that he towered over Neville by some degree. This meant his chest was completely unprotected . . . the perfect target.
With lightening quick movements I flipped the knife over in my hand so that I held it with a firm grip. Before he could react to this I had taken aim and thrown it with an easy precision. The flames struck home, coming in contact with the skin right smack dab in the middle of his chest and blossoming outward like a wildfire.
The scream that followed was something that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
The fire quickly spread over his body, eating away at the coal black robes and burning his skin to a crisp. With another yelp of agony his hands dropped away from Neville, who scurried away as fast as he could.
I was a lot more shaken by the occurence than I could let on at the moment. There was time to wallow in self disgust later. Now was the time to, quite simply, kick butt and take names.
Just as I turned to take on a few more Deatheaters two doors from higher on the tier were flung open and five more people rushed into the room. I vaguely recognized a few of them, though at first I couldn't place from where. Then I remembered seeing them in passing at the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, and I was relieved to know that they were on our side. At this point we could use all the help we could get.
Then the fighting really began, and no matter how much I wanted to throw myself into the thick of things, I forced myself to wait at the sidelines, searching for Harry in all the confusion. I had seen him dive off the dais, but I didn't know where he had gone.
"Are you okay?" A voice yelled from behind where I was crouched beside Neville, and I whipped my head around to find none other than Harry Potter leaning heavily against the stone.
I nodded my head and I heard Neville mutter a 'yes'.
"And Ron?" was, predictably, his next question.
"I dink he's all right- he was still fighding the brain when we left-" Neville replied through his blood clotted and congested nose.
A spell was thrown our way, and the stone exploded by my foot. We all scrambled out of the way, but a hand swooped down and caught Harry around the neck, dragging him to his feet.
The Deatheater began speaking to Harry, but I couldn't make out his words despite my better than average hearing. I could see though, that he was choking Harry, by the way Harry's face was quickly purpling.
Before I could make a move to stop him, Neville launched himself at the Deatheater, jabbing him in the eye with Hermione's wand. The Deatheater howled and immediately lost his grip on Harry, who dove away quickly, so as not to get caught again. Without any of the theatrics I shoved my hands out, watching as the flames flew like a jet stream until they coiled like a rope around the man. The flames had yet to touch his skin, but as he made a move to release himself from them a made a quick motion with my hand and the fire tightened around him, branding his flesh.
He made less noise than the other, automatically dropping to the ground and rolling around like an utter idiot. I didn't have time to laugh, because as I was taking care of that particular Deatheater, another had come upon the others.
Now Neville was dancing around like a fool, unable to stop his wandering legs (due to a tarantallegra spell I presumed) and Harry was motioning for me to come and assist him. We each put an arm under Neville to support him, and were making our way out of the room when a man came running at us, causing us all to topple over. He kept yelling at Harry to give him the prophecy, whatever the heck that was.
Without having another choice Harry tossed the small glass ball to an open Neville, who caught it with a surprisingly sufficant ease, putting it in his pocket for safekeeping.
We resumed trying to escape the fighting, when after trying to heave Neville up his pocket split and the glass orb tumbled out of it. Before any of us could do anything one of Neville's haywire legs came in contact with the fragile surface and it went soaring into the air before crashing to the ground and shattering into pieces.
Neville began blubbering and exclaiming his apologies, but I just snatched his arm up and pulled him forwards, making my way to the door. Harry recollected himself and followed suit. We were almost to the top again when Neville shouted, "DUBBLEDORE!"
Even through his slightly slurred and not easily identifiable speech, I automatically knew what, or rather whom, he was speaking about; unlike Harry, who had to make Neville repeat himself.
I glanced up to see Albus Dumbledore for myself.
Authors Note: I know I skipped through some parts, but I didn't think it was necessary to repeat EVERY scene. That would take way to long, and you'd most likely get extremely bored. Also, I'm just going to give you fair warning, next chapter . . . it's going to be the last one. So make me uber happy and REVIEW :D Please?
Me: What are you doing Iggy?
Iggy: What does it look like I'm doing!?
Me and Miz636: *Share an exasperated look*
Me: Please, enlighten us.
Iggy: Ugh . . . isn't it obvious? I'm concoting the best, most ingenious plan to get the Blufadoodle.
Miz636: *Rolls eyes* Great, that's just great.
Me: *Shrugs* It's fine by me, as long as no explosives are used in the process.
Iggy: *Pauses in his frantic scribbling* Umm . . . I'm going to have to rethink this a little . . .
Me: IGGY!