Prologue: Death Alive
Hermione's heart raced as her eyes darted down the pages of her book. She knew everything she could about the Ministry of Magic including it's secret passageways and main corridors. All of the chambers and rooms she had scoped out, but what if she had made a mistake?
She felt adrenaline pulse through her veins as she decided on the start. She slammed the volume shut and slid it beneath the dumpster. Silently she snuck between a trash can and the brick wall of what muggles new not of, the Ministry of Magic.
Alert and confirmed, Hermione reached out for the door of the phone booth and swung the door open in haste. She needed to get the job done quickly, as hastily as her feet could carry her; as fast as her fingers could work.
The dial was entered and Hermione attached the badge (Secret Mission) onto her robes. The booth clattered and shook as it descended down to the sparkling level of the Ministry. As on the maps, Hermione spotted the sparkling fountain, the gleaming front desk, and the roaring fireplace. She stepped forward, her shoe echoing against the walls. Portraits looked down at her with glaring eyes, but did not say a thing. Hermione looked around, peering around for the elevator, which she found to the left of her. She pushed through a golden gate and landed herself in a room full of at least twenty lifts. She made her way across the glass-like floor and forced the grilles of one of the lifts open.
The elevator, if she could call it that, vibrated and clattered to level seven, level six, and finally level five. Hermione stepped out just as the smooth woman's voice said, "Level five, Department of International Magical Cooperation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law, and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats."
Like the entire Ministry, it was an empty office full of messy desks and tidy floors. The room stretched down for what seemed like a quarter of a mile, but Hermione knew better than to think anything like that—it was simply a large room, small chamber.
Time was precious, however, and she had no time to dawdle and stand around.
Hermione shuffled around the desks, glancing quickly at unfinished paperwork, pictures of family, and important manilla folders strewn upon desks. Memos flapped around above, waiting for Opening.
"Door number 3...door number 3..." she muttered, making her way across the room and next to the wall. Doors were scattered at different distances apart. They each had different number plaques labelled for certain needs. Finally, Hermione's eyes placed upon door number 3.
"Alohamora!" she thought, pointing her wand at the handle. A slight "click" was heard and she grasped the golden handle, turning it.
Hermione practically skipped across the room with excitement. She couldn't believe the success she endured. She beamed delightfully, placing her sight on various cabinets. Her smile fell to a frown, her excitement replaced with nerves. The map hadn't uncovered what each cabinet contained. But she mustn't fret, she had a mind of her own anyhow.
Quickly Hermione dropped to her knees to a shorter cabinet made of maple. The doors were completely solid, the legs made of cast iron. The top of the cabinet pointed upward, the edges curved and fancied.
Hermione touched the handle of the cabinet door and felt no defensive curse or spell. It seemed too simple, but she tried to open the door anyway. As she thought, the door wouldn't budge. "Alohamora!" she thought again, aiming her wand at the door. There was no satisfying "click" that she could refer to, and as she tried to open the cabinet, it once again did not attempt to open. She smiled smugly.
"Aussagen!" she muttered, swishing and jabbing her wand at the door of the cabinet. Where her wand tip touched was exactly where a window, no bigger than a pea, appeared. She took her wand away and looked through the small hole into the dark cabinet. Finding not what she needed, Hermione pulled away, standing up with frustration. Below on the cabinet door the window was dissolved into wood once again.
Hermione was baffled, and stood next to a taller cabinet next to the maple one. She inhaled, muttered the incantation, and peered through the door. The oak cabinet was also the incorrect choice. She started to panic slightly; her palms starting to sweat as she repeatedly gripped her wand tighter yet.
"Aussagen!" she murmured at the mahogany cabinet. The cabinet of this one was far too large in her opinion, but she knew all too well that the Ministry held secrets she could only think of. Hurriedly she situated her eye against the peep hole and only saw a heap of scrolls.
"But it has to be here!" she grumbled. Her eyes darted around the room, first at the next cabinet, then at the door, then at the smallest cabinet, and another time at the stationary door. It was a puzzle that even her mind couldn't figure, but she knew that her time was of essence. With haste, Hermione made up her mind and rushed over to the smallest cabinet, entirely made up of hickory.
The legs of the cabinet were completely straight, excluding the small rounded feet at the base of each of the four legs. The body of the cabinet was completely chic, with intricate designs on the walls, drawings of lions, serpents, leaves, and roses. The doors were completely opposite however; standing plain and simple the exception of the brass handles which gave the design of many vines. "Aussagen!" Hermione said, her wand against the locked door.
Pulling away her wand, Hermione couldn't see a window. A slight terror touched her soul, but it was quickly recovered with the soothing memory of one of last year's Charms lesson.
"However, if the object you are trying to charm is stronger than a simple "Aussagen," you will need the alternative, "Stabil Aussagen" which is German for–anyone? Ah, Miss Patil!"
"Solid Reveal, sir?"
"That is correct! 5 points to Gryffindor–"
"Stabil Aussagen!" Hermione muttered fiercely, jabbing the cabinet a little harder then meant be. With success, the same window appeared as before. Hermione put her eye to the small circular viewport, staring into its depths—
Hermione screamed, strong pain piercing her body and stabbing her bones. The pain was so intense, she couldn't overcome. But she needed the cabinet open–it was the only one! It was the correct one—
"Bombarda!" she screamed, targeting the small cabinet. The hickory cabinet blasted apart, shards as small as slivers darting out in every direction. She felt a handful of wooden shards slice at her cheeks, as small as paper cuts but as afflicting as knives.
Anguish attacked her heart, clutched her lungs. She gasped for breath as she bent down to grab the object, while the many others were scattered among the broken cabinet pieces.
"Reparo!" she directed, fixing the artifact around her neck and under her robes. The cabinet didn't come together, but the slivers quivered with excitement.
She fell down suddenly, as her knees gave out. Her weak ankles couldn't hold her weight, her soul couldn't take the pain. How could she get out of the room?
But somehow Hermione found herself in the main room of level five. Her bones rattled, her legs weak; she crawled. She dropped her wand back into her pocket, trying to stand up. New strength flowed to her head, rolling into her heart, touching her muscles. Slowly she staggered from the room and into the elevator where she collapsed again.
Patiently she awaited her turn to depart from the grilles. The smooth voice sounded again, sounding the atrium. Hermione gathered herself again, standing up and staring out at the fountain. She tried to uncover the secret of the pain she beared back there; but why must she ponder now? Harry needed the artifact as soon as possible, the sooner the better.
"I would leave if I were you!" Hermione spun around, clenching her wand so hard her knuckles appeared white. A man, no older than Sirius Black and no uglier either, stood at the entrance of the visitor's phone booth. Hermione stared, trying to get a clearer view.
His face looked like wax, spread across his face. But even as she looked she could tell that there was more wealth in the cheeks and eyes. His robes hung loosely off of his body, and his hair swung handsomely in his face.
"S-Sirius?" Hermione stammered. "B-but why haven't you–" she broke off as her mind felt winded. She could scarcely breathe has her words were caught within.
"Hermione, run! Ministry officials know you're here! I am telling you—run!" Hermione nodded, stern but airy. She watched the transparent figure of Sirius dissolve from the air completely, leaving no trace behind. Just like he had warned, Hermione heard voices. The phone booth was rattling, falling toward the atrium and as soon as the scarlet fire turned emerald, she spun out of view from the building with a loud "crack!"
