A/N: I've merged some of the chapters together to make them longer, so now there are only a few chapters left!

POVs: Harry

Disclaimer: Nope.

Chapter 34

Harry,

Dumbledore will come find you on Friday. I don't know how, but I trust him. He'll Apparate you to the Ministry, most likely. I agree; I haven't seen you since you left on the Hogwarts Express. You must have changed a lot this year.

I think it's wonderful that you've decided to become an Auror. It's a dangerous and hard job, but I think you're up to the task. After all, it's not everyone who defeats the worst man alive at the age of one. James was indeed an Auror, but I was not.

I'm glad to hear about Annabeth's transformation. Just make sure to support her as her friend; becoming an Animagus is difficult as hell. If she needs help with her feathers, tell her to either wear some sort of hat or try a partial Disillusionment Charm.

I'll see you this Friday.

Sirius

I didn't quite make it to Friday.

"Wake up, speaker. She's almost gone, almost gone…"

"No!" I yelled, running back and forth through a maze, but really all I found was myself going in circles.

"No?" said the voice menacingly. "I think otherwise. The spirit within her is leaving quickly. Ooh — what have we here? A man too!" The voice stopped and there was a small shriek followed by a heavy thud to the floor. "Master, I have found him!"

Finally, I hurtled around one last corner, the one numbered 97, against every single one of my instincts, and found myself face to face with a scene I did not want to see in a million years. Suddenly, I was not in my body, and I found myself to be taller, with a straight back and a cold voice.

"Where is it? Tell me, foul blood-traitor."

Sirius looked up with gray eyes. "I'm not telling you anything."

"Come now, it would simply be a waste to spill such pure blood of yours. Now tell me — where is the prophecy?"

Sirius stared into my eyes with a hatred I hoped to never see again. "Never. Even if I did know where it was, I wouldn't tell you. Not in a million years."

"CRUCIO!" I yelled, firing the curse at the man in front of me, at the only person who was left of my family. Sirius fell to the floor, twitching horribly but not yelling. I could feel myself pouring all of my hatred into the curse, and Sirius whimpered, a strangled sound in his voice. But why was he not yet screaming?

"Are you more inclined to tell me now?"

Sirius regained his strength. "NEVER."

I lifted my arm once more, hissed to the great snake to stay by the side of the girl, and turned my full attention to the man who simply would not scream from the pain of my Cruciatus Curse and would not tell me where the object of my desire lay.

"Avada —"

"Harry? Harry! Wake up, dude!" It was Percy's voice that was yelling at me. My scar burned worse than it ever had before.

I screamed and flew from under my covers, very nearly turning into a snake midair. I grabbed for my glasses and shoved them onto my face, the nightmare I'd seen sticking harshly in my brain.

Without saying a word, I tugged on Ron's arm and then on Percy's and ran out of the dormitory once again, just like that night when I'd seen myself bite Mr. Weasley. This time, though, I did not consider going to Dumbledore. I didn't even consider going to McGonagall. Instead, this time I headed straight for the one fireplace not controlled by the Ministry. Hermione, Annabeth, and Ginny, who were for some reason conversing in the common room, jumped up and followed us, tugging on my sleeve to ask what was wrong.

My mouth was frozen shut with fear until halfway down the stairs. "I had a nightmare," I panted. "Sirius — Rachel — in the Ministry. They've been attacked by Voldemort and his snake. We've got to get there. Now!"

The others were completely caught up on the story, and I'd even told them about the row where they'd been: number 97, by the time we reached Umbridge's office. I did not care what she said or thought, and was expecting for her to stand up to her full five feet of height and yell for Dumbledore and the staff when the six of us burst into her office. Instead, I was confused and halted for a moment because of what I saw.

Malfoy was sitting across from Umbridge, looking extremely unpleased and uncomfortable as she spoke to him in a serious tone. Of course, when we burst in, she stopped talking and looked at us, confused, before asking, "And what would the six of you be doing out at night so late? Wandering through the castle? Waiting for detention?"

"We need to use your fireplace," I said wildly. My mind was not in the pink office, but with Sirius and Rachel at the Ministry.

"Excuse me?" If anything I had said had confused Umbridge, this bewildered her. Malfoy turned around and eyed me with disgust and some relief.

"We need to use your —" I began.

"You are hardly in a position to ask such things of me, Mr. Potter! How dare you come into my office and declare that you require my fireplace — what are you doing, Mr. Potter?"

I had run over to the fireplace and already had grabbed a handful of dust. The fireplace was wide enough that three of us fit at a time. "If you've already forgotten, Professor, I actually am in such a position to ask such things of you. And you are in no position to deny them."

Umbridge shrieked in disbelieving. "Draco, stay here. I am going to inform the headmaster!" She ran out of the office as fast as her toad legs could carry her. Malfoy was left in his seat, staring at the six of us, all wearing only t-shirts and tank-tops and baggy pants.

I stepped into the fireplace as he raised his eyebrow, tugging Ginny and Ron along with me. "Ministry of Magic!" I yelled, dropping the Floo Powder and disappearing in a whirl of emerald flames.

I fell out of a cold stone fireplace. The Ministry was deadly silent; there were no people bustling about (not that I was really that surprised, it was the middle of the night. The only sound in the Atrium was the steady rush of water from the golden fountain, where jets from the wands of the witch and wizard, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat, and the house-elf's ears continued to gush into the surrounding pool. I stood up immediately and brushed the dust from my shoulders. Right after Ginny and Ron had copied me, green flames burst up again and Percy, Annabeth and Hermione shot out of nowhere.

I looked back at where we'd come from. The green flames had died down to barely a simmer. A small part in the back of my mind wondered why it was that they weren't completely gone, but that worry disappeared when the image of Sirius screaming in pain and Rachel leaking blood on the floor reappeared in my mind.

"They're in the Department of Mysteries. Come on," I told the five who stood behind me, wondering what we were supposed to do. The six of us took off jogging, holding up our wands and whispering "Lumos" to get some light. We all passed through the golden gates to get to the lifts; I pressed the nearest down button and cringed when the golden grilles slid open with a loud clang. I stabbed at the nine number and waited in agony until the lift halted and the female voice said, "Department of Mysteries." The six of us stumbled out into a lifeless corridor, at the end of which stood the black door of my nightmares.

I didn't want everyone to follow me in, but it was inevitable and we quietly slipped through the door into a completely black, circular room with about a dozen doors.

"Now what?" whispered Ginny, but her question was answered when the walls began to rotate around us.

"We can't know where we came from now," said Annabeth in a scared voice. But suddenly, Percy, who had been walking at my side the entire time, stiffened. He turned his head. "It's that way," he said, gesturing to the door three to the left.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked doubtfully, stretching her wand arm out to see with her light.

Annabeth confirmed it. "Absolutely. I don't know what it is; I can just —"

"Well, if it is that way, let's not waste any time," said Ginny fiercely, and the six of us turned to head through the door.

With a simple "Alohomora" from Hermione, the door clicked open to show what I had dreamed of so many times. It was a maze, high as a church and filled with high shelves cluttered with dusty glass orbs, each of them emitting a blue light.

"It's row ninety-seven, you said, Harry?" Hermione asked, inspecting the nearest shelf labeled with a polished silver 1.

"Yeah. Come on, it's ought to be down there…" So we all took off at a sprint again. Every other row I would call Sirius' name, but there was no sound to be heard in the huge cold room. We passed row 50, then row 60… and still no sign of a struggle, no scream, nothing.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me and I whirled around to see who was there, expecting Voldemort or a Death Eater, or, beyond all hope, my godfather.

But it was none of those people; no, the person who'd been following us was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.

"Draco?" Hermione hissed when she saw him. "What are you doing here?"

He grew pink and spat back, "I decided to follow you. Is there something wrong with that, Mudblood?"

Ron grew very red in the face. "Don't you dare, Malfoy —"

But I turned around, not caring enough to know why Malfoy had followed us, not caring about anything but reaching Sirius…

Suddenly, I stopped. There it was — row ninety-seven. I looked around, but it wasn't hard to find the bright red in the light of a thousand blue orbs.

So Sirius was not here. But Rachel indeed was. And she looked the same as she had in my dream: blood spilled, clothes ripped — she'd been missing for months, but she looked like she'd been missing for years. The torture brought upon her was too gruesome to even look at, much less imagine.

The rest of the group suddenly caught up. Percy and Annabeth immediately ran forward to get Rachel and picked her limp body up between the two of them. Malfoy was shocked; when he ran forward to help, though, Annabeth told him not to touch her. And I could see why.

It wasn't just blood leaving Rachel's body. There was a slippery, greenish fog falling out of her ears and mouth and nose.

"She's losing the Oracle, Percy," Annabeth said, agitated.

"I can see that. I don't get it, though. How?"

"I don't know, but —"

"Harry, look at this," said Ron suddenly, studying something on the shelf right above the number 97.

"What?" I asked him impatiently.

"It's got your name on it." And it did. The peeling yellow label beneath the brightly glowing orb in front of me said:

S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.

Dark Lord

and (?) Harry Potter

I stared at it. "What is it?" asked Ron, sounding unnerved. "What's your name doing down here?"

"Harry, don't touch it," warned Hermione as I reached for the glass ball.

"Why not? It's got something to do with me, doesn't it? It's got my name on it."

"We've got to get her out of here now," said Malfoy, looking at me seriously. "Now!"

Instead, I reached out and closed my hand around the dusty ball, expecting it to be cold and finding otherwise. I brought it down from the shelf, expecting something extraordinary to happen. Nothing happened, and the orb simply glowed as it always had.

"Come on!" yelled Malfoy. "Before it's too late! Let's get Rachel out of here!"

"Oh, I'm afraid that won't be happening today, Draco," said Lucius Malfoy's drawling voice suddenly as he emerged from the darkness behind us. "Very good, Potter. Now how about you turn around and give that to me?"