Winter was approaching and cold air began to invade the environment, the beautiful tree's leaves began to fall on the busy streets, the singing birds were almost gone as the wind was beginning to sing an ominous song.

In contrast to the icy calm out there, the Ministry of Magic was in chaos.

People freaking out in the hallways, a young employee sobbing copiously while clinging to a purple fluffy puff under the large black stairs that conducted to what Harry called the "media room" while his friend gently patted him on the back, journalists screaming and running upstairs, the smell of strong coffee in the air.

Also, there was the noise of several men magically erecting heavy wooden planks, building a giant building on the side of the Ministry of Magic, a symbol of Horton Cirley's wealth who had sponsored what would be the new Auror Department, modern architecture, blue, with windows that were way too big, facing the streets, imposing.

It was Cirley's idea of making the auror career more attractive to young people and adults, giving it a more entrepreneurial and modern image, in the campaigns conducted by magical marketing offices Cirley had hired (with his own money), on the several pamphlets it was written the following:

Be an Auror! The profession of the future! Free tours at the new Auror's building, with free lunch and transportation, and a special inauguration training class led by Harry Potter! For a limited time only! Tap your wand on the paper to sign up! A limited number of vacancies.

Yes, Harry had agreed to conduct this class, pressured by O'Neill. It seemed like a good initiative so that people could get to know the auror career better and learn some very useful spells (in the Annual Survey of Magical Abilities' it was found that more than 50% of the population was not able to do an effective shield spell satisfactorily quickly!).

Harry still remembered bitterly when he and Ron had tried to propose an initiative that was quickly rejected for being too damaging to the public coffers. The two had suggested years ago the Initiative for Defensive Training (IDT), a fast and free course for everyone that would teach to the population, with the help of aurors from the Auror Academy, the basics so on magical defense and duels.

Now the initiative had been revived by Horton Cirley under another name: Cirley's Protection and Defense Course. Paid fully by him, without any government help, but directed at everyone and with "private sector defense experts" (private "aurors", whatever that meant)... who had once been members of Cirley Academy.

The Academy that, in Harry's opinion, was not quite an Academy, but rather a qualification center with several fast and technical courses, known for being one of the only academic places that openly and fearlessly encouraged the inscription of werewolves, goblins, centaurs, and others, with scholarships and travel vouchers to places like Bahamas, Chile, Russia, USA, Canada and many more…

And Cirley was getting more and more ambitious, he wanted to buy a gigantic building a little far from Hogsmeade and start a school in the Hogwarts models. He had also given a lecture on the association he had recently founded called "Education for All", which very much resembled a central for the creation of some kind of student's movement.

Even though many criticized his progressive and pro-werewolf ideas, Cirley didn't seem to fear or care about any of that. When you have power, money, and fame, what do you have to fear? He feared nothing.

He had enough influence to prevent poisonous articles and vigorous and public criticism from coming out against himself, he and Sallinger seemed to be… friends now, and Leo Gyon had begun to appear around as well, always asking about Cirley, waiting for them to go to dinner together.

Harry and the Auror's Department were being violently and viciously criticized by the media, each new day a brand new article appeared talking about their failures, condemning Harry's actions and blaming everything on him and his Department, and by the population in general. The internal affairs were, again, beginning a lengthy investigation into the general conduct of the security personnel, trying to find out how two individuals simply broke into the Ministry of Magic and murdered an employee in public. The Cheshire situation, the disappearances of children (which Harry attributed to the PNM), the constant threat of attack by the DPM, and many other issues still unconcluded, continued to occupy the agenda of public discussions, generating fear and disbelief in the population.

They've made progress in the Cheshire case... someone had spotted a strange-looking woman, but they claimed that this woman didn't leave caught and didn't seem to be... real, it was as if it were an illusion, as one of the victims, a little nine-year-old boy, had described:

"S-She said she wanted to be my mom, but I already my mommy," had said the little boy crying when Harry and Ron were called.

"What else she said, huh?" Asked Ron, gently, to the boy who had on his neck hand marks that were too big to be human.

"I-I… my neck hurts," complained the boy and his mother embraced him protectively.

"Is this really necessary? He was attacked by some dark magical creature! Solve this already, what are the aurors doing?! I admire you a lot, Mister Potter, you were my childhood hero, after all! So why did you let me boy be attacked? He needs to see a healer."

"Carina, please!" Said the husband of the woman in a conciliatory tone.

"She said the world doesn't deserve children, that the children must be taken to the B-Beyond, t-that they belong to the Star, a-and that she won't be hiding anymore, because the Star-hour is coming," the boy murmured, frightened, "Mommy, I want to go home," cried the boy on his mother's lap.

A woman. The Star-hour.

In addition, he had received information from Hogwarts. Something strange was going on over there. The lake had frozen and no one could unfreeze it (a specialized Ministry official had been called, but had not succeeded), there was the proliferation of a strange and potentially contagious mold in the forbidden forest (centaurs remained prophetic and mysterious as always), and… his son Albus did not seem well (this was Harry's personal problem in fact, but this occupied much of his mind, interfering with his general judgments).

Was Harry wrong in sending him to Hogwarts? Had it been too early?

Was he subjecting Albus to a pressure the boy couldn't handle?

He doesn't seem to be sleeping well, Harry, he's not doing very well in some of his classes, but- he had seen written on the letter Neville had sent him.

Harry sighed, tired of so many problems, pressing his robes against his body... a strange and semi-mystical cold seemed to begin to spread in the Ministry a few days ago, seemed to come from the Department of Mysteries..., but sometimes it seemed to come from the mirrors.

"Hey Harry," he, alarmed, immediately drew the wand, automatically, "Hey, it's me!" It was Ted, this time with gray hair, indicating sadness, and Harry knew exactly why.

"I'm sorry, Ted," he said, he was apologizing for Lino Steely.

It was his fault.

He had sent him.

He didn't understand how Ted wasn't mad at him.

"It's okay, Harry. I should've known: never ever try to scare an auror," said Ted, not understanding what he was apologizing for, his tone was cheerful, but his eyes were red and swollen, he had been crying. Ted was a sensitive boy, after all, and very affectionate with his friends. He had not always wanted to be auror, his career interest had begun when Greyback had escaped from Azkaban, Harry didn't know if Ted could handle all the professions' bad side, Ron had never been the same after Erika's death, for example, they saw bad things happening, they couldn't always save everyone. And every person they failed to save became a ghost, haunting them in their dreams. He remembered dreaming about Albus several times when he was missing, when he had been unable to find and save him "why didn't you save me, Dad?" he had said, floating in the air, like a sad ghost who blamed him, cursing him forever, then Albus would float away, an atmosphere of mist and longing, wandering eternally along mysterious paths, where Harry would never meet him again.

Harry shook his head, he getting way too emotional, Ted had said something to him and he had not even listened.

"No, it's not about that, I'm apologizing for Lino-"

"Any news, Harry?" He asked, putting the access card to the Ministry in his pocket.

Why hadn't Harry been Albus's savior? Why not him, but O'Neill? Of course, he was glad that Albus was saved, but he would like to be Albus's hero... He wanted to save him himself. It was his responsibility... people said he was a hero...but was he I really? He hadn't been the one to find and save Albus, after all.

"No." He said, feeling horrible. As hard as he worked, Harry could not shake the almost permanent feeling that he did not do enough, that his efforts did not bear fruit, and that failure was the norm.

Maybe he couldn't salver Lino Steely either.

"Harry, I want to help," said Ted, decided, his eyes fierce and determined.

"But, Ted-"

"Please, at least let me investigate the Hogwarts' incidents! Please, I can not handle not doing anything," Ted practically begged, "Lino has a little sister… s-she came to talk to me…," said Ted, without elaborating further.

"I won't let you go alone. We don't know yet what is happening at Hogwarts, it could be dangerous!" Insisted Harry with a harsh tone.

Ted looked taken back by his reaction… maybe he was being too harsh, but he wouldn't commit the same mistake, he was worried about Ted.

"Your sons are at Hogwarts," pointed Ted, smartly.

"Yes, and I'm worried," he revealed with honesty in his voice.

"Then let me go, I can help, I swear Harry, I've trained hard since Lino's disappearance," said Ted, "Please, some auror can come with me," suggested the boy.

"Which one?" Asked Harry, a little exasperated, all the aurors were incredibly busy.

"I can go, Mister Potter, I've been wanting to investigate some things there too," O'Neill, pale and with deep dark circles, appeared in the middle of the hall, his hair, always impeccable, were strangely messy, his robes were also a little dirty.

"But you've been investigating the disappearances…," reminded Harry.

"Mister Cirley is helping me, I have got some clues, I think I can help this young man a bit, while also fulfilling my own curiosity and… well, as I told you earlier-"

"There can be connections," completed Harry.

"Yes, everything can be connected in some way…, I sent, as you asked me, some aurors to Cheshire, and a kidnapped boy was… brought back…," commented O'Neill handing him a thick report.

"Did you discover what has been attacking people at Cheshire?!" Asked Harry, anxious, "It isn't a werewolf, is it?"

"No," said O'Neill in a whisper, looking around, "It's not a werewolf," said he, at last, exchanging a meaningful look with Harry, the man had something important to tell him, something very important.

"Mister Potter, let's meet in the Ministry library with auror Weasley later, maybe he can't call Cirl-" the other auror said.

"You, me, and Ron," he sentenced, firmly, O'Neill gave him a somewhat exasperated look.

"You know that Cirley can be of great help-"

"Is Mr. Cirley here? Can I talk to him?" Asked Ted, Harry made a face. Ted admired the man for his work for the werewolf cause.

"Of course, he's upstairs," informed O'Neill smiling. Harry definitely would never understand the relationship between Horton Cirley and Norman O'Neill, were they friends or merely cooperated for mutual interests? Cirley seemed to have somewhat strong opinions about O'Neill... Harry didn't know what O'Neill thought of Cirley, exactly. Ted climbed, excited to talk with the man.

What he knew about O'Neill for sure is that the man hated Dennis Sallinger, such a fact had once again proved when Harry saw exasperation visible on the auror's face when the journalist was coming towards them.

"Oh! Norman O'Neill! Harry Potter! How are you two?" He didn't wait for an answer, maybe because he didn't genuinely care for their well-being…, "I need to talk with Horton," O'Neill sighed, angry.

"I think it's Mister Cirley for you. He's busy," said the veteran auror with a penetrating look.

"He's not busy for me, I'm sure! We are all childhood friends after all," he said in an annoying, passive-aggressive voice, "Norman, how is Osc-"

"Mister Potter, come," O'Neill pulled him suddenly and the two walked away from the journalist, who looked at O'Neill with an angry and affronted look.

"I have the right to know! I sent him gifts, did you deliver them to-"

They soon could not hear the man.

"What is he talking about?" Asked Harry, confused.

"About nothing that matters," said O'Neill, emphatic, with a cold look on his face, "One respectable man should never mix their personal life with their work-life, it just demonstrates the level of amateurism and decay of this little journalist that we want to discuss useless things instead of doing his job," O'Neill said as if speaking to himself.

"Were you all friends-"

"No, he's delirious," said O'Neill scathingly, taking a deep breath.

"Mr. Potter, forgive my lack of composure," he said, giving an apologetic smile.

"Okay. What did you want to talk about with me?"

"Well, maybe I should show you. It would be better. Follow me, please," he said, breathless while the two headed to the elevator, there O'Neill pressed the level 9 button hard, his hands trembling, even though he did not seem too tense... he seemed excited by something..., when he realized that Harry was looking at him curiously, the man adopted his usual serious and cold expression.

"Why are we going to the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked, suspicious.

"Something is happening there, Mr. Potter," O'Neill said with a strange calm.

Harry looked at him, confused.

"How come I wasn't informed?"

"It happened seconds ago," the veteran auror declared, holding his wand, "I was investigating Otto's death, then I saw it with my own eyes."

"Give me more details."

"I... well, Mr. Potter, I was conducting an extra investigation into the Head of Department murder, as you had instructed me, accompanied by Sarah Gomblee, the research assistant, when an abnormal cold filled the whole space, then Sarah said it was coming from what she called informally "the mirror room," he started saying.

"We both went to investigate, it was a large room filled with many kinds of mirrors, Sarah said the room was supposed to be always closed, as the research had been permanently discontinued," he said mysteriously.

"Why?" Asked Harry, curious.

"The chief research and his whole teams all committed suicide or died in some creepy ways soon after they started the research, some say a curse was cast on the team researching the issue."

"What issue were they researching?"

"They wanted to see if mirrors could work as some kind of portal, but the thing is… this research wasn't approved properly, they were doing it in secret, only the Mysteries' Department knew-"

"We should really start regulating the Department," sighed Harry, annoyed.

"I agree. The room… was open, and the mirrors were frozen, Sarah wanted to leave as soon as possible, and got a small blanket to cover the largest mirror, but something intrigued her and she looked at the mirror, that's when she began acting strange."

"Strange how?"

"She was under something's influence, I tried to stop her but realized that she was only a distraction and that there was someone else there with us. I felt it. Something was watching me, that's for sure. Then Sarah started running away suddenly, I chased her for a long time, but I got lost, so I decided to call you to investigate together, I'm worried about Sarah, but I thought I may need some reinforcements, can you were the first one I saw," said O'Neill with a serious and professional expression on his face.

"O'Neill, that was risky," stated Harry, scolding the auror, even though he knew he would have done the same, "Sarah?" asked Harry, worried about the fate of the girl.

"I don't know where she is," clarified O'Neill in an apologetic tone.

"Why didn't you cast a spell to call me? Why did you come to see me personally," asked Harry, puzzled.

"I-I," he blushed, seeming deeply ashamed, "I dropped my wand, " murmured him.

"What?"

"I dropped my wand!" He admitted, embarrassed, "I got scared, and dropped my wand when-"

"Did you see who it was?"

"No, Mr. Potter, it was very fast, but quite big,"

"How big?"

"Bigger than a normal human. A tall man or thing, because I'm not sure if it was human. I saw its reflection on one of the mirrors, but it soon disappeared, strangely it was like he was on the mirror, then left the mirror, and I… I don't know where it went after that, exactly, I was following Sarah, trying to stop her," he said.

"Without your wand?"

"I-I couldn't let her alone, under the influence of something, all by herself, I'm a man, Mister Potter, an auror, I must protect people," he said emphatically, with nobility, but his eyes were half cold and arrogant too, "I tried to do the best I can, but then decided it was useless and decided to call for help,"

"Shouldn't we get more aurors?" Thought Harry.

"We have no time!" Said O'Neill, alarmed, "If we take too long, then Sarah can… she can die, because of me, because I committed a mistake, I dropped my wand, just like a scared child, I was the one who asked for her help, and then she agreed," continued the man with angry in his voice, seeming disappointed with himself.

"Do you think he.. or she… or that thing… was the one who bewitched Sarah?" asked Harry, curious.

"It could be him, but if it was him... he didn't use a wand," O'Neill clarified.

"Why do you say it's a he?"

"Because I heard some strange whispers, it sounded like a male," said the auror.

"When?"

"When I looked at the mirror."

"What a mess," Harry whispered, alarmed.

The elevator stopped at level 9, a wave of nostalgia overcame Harry. He remembered when he had broken into the place with his friends in his 5th year.

"I'll just send Ron a quick message, if something happens, he may come after us soon," said Harry, raising the wand and skillfully sending a quick message to the friend, it would take Ron time to arrive, the auror was helping transport the equipment and files from the Auror Department to the new building, in charge of the achieve part, transporting the heavy and dusty documents, rearranging all that in the new file room, in the other building. Some aurors were on missions. Ogden was in the hospital, his leg was terrible and was not healing "the plague, it's like some kind of plague, it infects the leg,," outside what the healer had said, confused, "Never seen it before, seems like dark magic, what did bite him?". Cirley… if he called the man he might come faster, but he wasn't very good in combative magic. He could do it on his own, and wait for his trusted friend to come later. A brief regret afflicted him for a few seconds... was he wrong at not calling Cirley to help them? He was by himself whatever it was that had bewitched Sarah, O'Neill was wandless.

He looked around but saw only dark and sparsely lit and cold corridors, a deadly cold enveloped him with an onminious hug, the corridors seemed to form a strange sort of labyrinth, as if they had no end and led nowhere. Strange. Something had changed in the Department of Mysteries.

"Where are the other employees?" Harry asked, what they did was still unknown. Harry knew that there they may have researched topics such as love, fear, time..., some still taking place, others abandoned, but he could not get rid of the belief that some things were better not researched.

Once he was accused of being "against the proper development of magical science", Harry had argued with a veteran researcher in the Department of Mysteries that mathematizing or systematizing emotional fields like love, for example, was a waste of time and even dangerous. There was not even a way to express love in words, how to research it to the point of producing reasonably universal conclusions that were at the same time plausible, verifiable from the point of view of magical science? "Love is not actually real, it's just a matter of brain activity," had said her, Harry disagreed, "Happiness, sadness, longing, fear, what if we could get rid of it all and produce the model-auror, Mister Potter, it could be really useful, one that was never intimidated, or-" Such an auror could be materially more efficient in terms of carrying out missions, but he would be empty and purposeless, it would be a perversion to the concept of aurors and the mission they've promised to carry out, those who love nothing, have nothing to protect.

He loved Albus. He loved his family and friends.

Assaulted by an emotional epiphany, Harry lifted the wand and called Horton Cirley, left his pride and his dislike for the man aside, it was time to worry about saving Sarah and keeping O'Neill protected until they found his wand.

"Due to the murder of Otto Marchbanks, many didn't come, Sarah was doing me a favor today, but today was an off-day," O'Neill clarified.

"It's cold here," Harry commented, pressing the auror robes against himself, his fingers beginning to ache and go numb. Way too cold.

"I wasn't like this before, the cold seems to have spread," replied the auror.

Right at that moment, they heard a high-pitched scream of pure terror in the air, which echoed through the halls and made the blood run cold. Taken by the instinct of saving people, the two aurors ran in the direction of the sound without a second thought.

Rationality no longer dictated the rules, they followed some kind of instinctive knowing. They now knew that if they kept waited for reinforcements someone would die, for that cry was the cry of someone who was about to die.

They passed through icy corridors, in one of which there was a layer of thin ice that almost made Harry slip, but he soon regained his balance. They were now in a kind of crossroads with several paths to follow.

"Did they reformed the Department of Mysteries?"

"No. These corridors were not like this when I was here just now, it's all wrong, Mr. Potter! The corridors are not like this, there should only be one path to follow!" Exclaimed O'Neill, amazed, but anxious.

"Damn it, are we in some kind of illusion?"

"Finite Incantatem!" Tried O'Neill, but nothing happened.

Harry felt a gust of cold air coming from one of the corridors.

"This way, let's follow the cold breezes!"

The two ran, but... they didn't seem to get out of place.

Sarah shouted once more, but the shout ceased in the middle and no sound came.

"What's going on here, O'Neill?" Harry asked, confused. They were suddenly in a dark corridor they didn't remember entering.

"Lumus!" But the light was soon gone as a dark tall figure entered the place, floating, seemingly to absorb all light, for a moment Harry thought it was a dementor because the thing produced horrendous sensations in him, an unspeakable disgust.

"Expecto Patronum!" Yelled Harry using the memory from when he was reunited with his son, light and heat took over the place, but soon seemed to be devoured by the black figure, that disseminated darkness and cold.

They heard a door slamming noise, the figure started advancing on them until... it dissipated, like a ghost. Only the abnormal cold remained, the lights went on again.

"Sarah?" Screamed O'Neill, looking for the woman.

They heard a strange and crazy laugh, Sarah was in front of them.

"Sarah what happened? Who was that?" O'Neill shouted.

"I saw. I saw."

"Sarah?" Tried, Harry.

"Incendio!" The woman shouted abruptly, Harry noticed she was holding some papers, she soon cast the spell on herself, the woman was soon dead.