Out of the Fire

Still. Stiller than the dead and nearly as quiet. Only the Fountain of Magical Brethren's spouts of water made a sound. The gentle pour roared in the otherwise empty Atrium.

Emerald flames rumbled to life. Siria stumbled out of the fire. Then Hermione. By the time the lift arrived, so had the others. They hurried into the lift, which inched downward.

"Where did Ginny go?" Ron asked. From Siria's pocket, Ginny shouted, though she sounded distant from the mirror.

"I'm on my way!" she said. Siria shuffled in her bag.

"Ginny," Hermione told Siria's pocket, while Siria closed her bag to change the dial, "try some now. If you make it in good time, we'll know it works and, if it doesn't, I am so sorry."

"What are you having her try?" Ron asked as he pulled Hermione from Siria to shout "Don't do it!" Siria sighed. She took the mirror from her pocket.

"We're in the Ministry— thank you all. I'll check in when we get my dad," Siria said. "Ginny, stay there!" and she closed the mirror.

"Do you think he's there?" Alice asked. "Or do you think Voldemort came alone?"

"Voldemort might have come alone," Patricia said, in her cool and level tone, "but I would plan for company."

"I didn't see anyone else, but Voldemort is definitely a fan of having an audience," Siria said, as she pulled out small, cloth sacks."This is it," she told them as the lift voice announced "Department of Mysteries."

"If you want to head back," Siria said, "this is your final chance." She expected the eye rolls. "Okay, everyone take one then," she passed the cloth sacks around until everyone had one. "Throw the smokey green, if you can run away from it, throw the solid green if you need to run, orange paste for burns, and chartreuse for cuts."

"Merlin!" Maddy gasped and pointed to the corridor. Black scorch marks and deep grooves were splattered around the doorway. Siria's heart sank as she shuffled toward the scene. She caressed the dark scuff mark on the cold stone floor. A plum singe hissed on the door.

Nine wands were drawn as Siria pushed the door back. It creaked and revealed the circular room of identical doors. She filled her lungs. Siria led the way in, as she pulled out a spindle of red thread.

"One of these leads into a gold room," Siria said while she tied a piece of the string to her left pinky finger. "I…" Siria squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember the room. "I think… there's a lot of ticking, so it's clocks or metronomes or something."

"Should we split up?" Ron asked while Siria cut the thread.

"No!" Hermione and Siria said, as Siria tied the end of her piece of string to Hermione's hand.

"We'll show you why later, but we need to stay together as much as possible," Hermione said. While Siria tied the string to Ron's finger.

"Which one do we try first?" Alice asked and reached for a door to imply "is this one fine?" Siria nodded, but the handle was firm. "It's locked."

"Don't bother then," Siria said when Alice raised her wand. "We're looking for an unlocked one," and continued tying people's fingers together as Luna tried the one in front of her.

Gentle blue light glowed from a tank in the dark room. It smelt like formaldehyde. The smell only added to the strange, haunting but calming feeling that seemed to escape the room. Siria closed the door. [B5, 771-772]

Ron opened the next. He squinted around the room. "Well, it's pretty quiet," Ron said. "Just an archway in like a theater," and he closed the door.

"I don't understand," Siria said as Hermione opened the next door. "It called to me when I was in Voldemort's head."

"I've got it!" Hermione said. She threw the door all the way open and gasped. Siria knocked Hermione into the room in her rush to see.

Shattered glass sprinkled the floor of the glittering gold room. Bags worth of sand poured onto the floor in scattered piles around the glass. Siria ran forward. "There are marks here," Luna said and pointed.

"Sirius is with the Prophecies!" Siria said, as she continued to run toward a door across the room. The red string on her finger stretched as Hermione trailed behind.

"Don't go shouting," Hermione hissed. The string hung loosely between her and Siria, as it did with the other pairs.

They ran into the Hall of Prophecies. Their footsteps echoed back down from the cathedral like high ceiling. Whether they whispered or shouted, it would make no difference. Whoever was there would know someone else was.

Left and down. There. Siria's throat filled with cement as she took in the polished, patent oxfords and their smooth onyx bottoms. She skidded to the figure's side on her knees. She cradled the head of fine, black hair head in her lap. Siria put one of her hands beneath the neck, to feel for a pulse, as she loosened his tie and collar. She paused, there was a pulse, but… her heart sank further as she took in the vest. The fabric of the pinstripe vest was off grain. Its buttons didn't match the jacket's in size, color, or quaint fine detail that Sirius appreciated.

"How do I tell them?" Siria asked herself. She looked to Hermione. "This is not Sirius," she thought as hard as she could. Her eyes widened then Hermione's did the same. Hermione raised the tip of her wand, just barely to Siria. Siria let her in.

The faint blue light and darkness washed away into the afternoon sun at Moony & Padfoot. Chloe held a pair of solid black, handsewn, Italian shoes. She rolled her eyes again, as she turned the red bottoms in Sirius's face. "They're fashionable! Do you hear me? You need to set an example," she told him.

"I am," Sirius said. "A good shoe needs a good tread. Children and teens are our target audience. Do you want them slipping and falling…"

Hermione froze. She eyed the smooth bottoms, then the pants, shirt, and vest. Hermione took Ron's hand and squeezed, as Siria turned back to the person with Sirius's face. She cradled it between her hands.

"Please, don't let this be the last time I see you," Siria pleaded mentally. "Don't let that be the last thing I tell you."

"He's okay," Siria choked out. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Please, let the others know," Siria thought. She pulled herself over the figure and faked a relieved sob. Siria squeezed one of her hands around the imposter. She raised three fingers in the direction of her friends and hoped they knew step three was still in effect.

Siria rubbed her eyes on her sleeve then pulled one of the imposter's arms over her shoulders. Ron reached to help, but Siria took a half step away. "I can take care of my father," Siria said with as much emphasis on 'father' as she could. He nodded. The imposter pretended to stir from their feigned sleep.

"It's okay, father," Siria said, as they muttered something. "The prophecy?" She repeated. The hand that wasn't around her shoulders pointed, weakly, at the shelf of prophecies before them. They looked to the tag on one of the smoking, blue glass spheres:

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

Dark Lord

And (?) Siria Potter (B5, 780). This was what Voldemort wanted. It was why he was going to kill Sirius. It was the reason Mr. Weasley was attacked.

"Take it," whispered the weak voice.

"Wouldn't it be better to destroy it?" Siria asked through the lump in her throat. She turned herself to be able to look over the figure's shoulder. Everyone had their wand at the ready. One way or another, they knew this wasn't Sirius.

"No! We have to keep it safe."

"You know, father," Siria said as she took a step toward the prophecy with them, "this is just like that scene with Westley and Vizzini'." The cool silver eyes rolled, as though annoyed by the nonsense of children. "Which glass was the poison in?" Siria asked knowing full well both were poisoned.

"I don't remember."

Siria took a breath. She had only seen the move done in the movies, but some of that had to be real, right?

Siria turned, so she was completely in front of the imposter, with their arm still over her shoulder. She pushed herself into their hips, bent over, and yanked their arm down. As she squatted, Siria rolled them off her hip. The moment they hit the ground, Siria pivoted and planted her foot on their shoulder, while she grappled their hand with one of hers. Siria pointed her wand at the imposters ankle and the POP echoed through the Hall.

"You filthy little Halfblood!" They said as Sirius, "after I took you in— is this how you repay your father?" Siria laughed as she pressed harder with her foot. "You're not my father," Siria said. "Polyjuice Potion is great at letting you wear someone as a mask, but you're just a kid at Halloween. The appearance, but none of the character."

Siria pointed her wand at the Prophecy while the others pointed at the imposter. "I'll count to three," Siria said, "and if you don't tell me where Sirius is, I'll FiendFyre the place down."

"I am your father," the imposter insisted as they whacked Siria with their free arm.

"One," Siria said through clenched teeth as she gave a single, disappointed shake of her head.

"Put that wand down," they rummaged for a wand. Siria pointed her wand at their other shoulder and the POP caused them to scream.

"Two," Siria said. She did not need Hermione's hand on her shoulder to tell her she was using magic. She heard the trembling of the glass spheres like a summer's rain.

"Now, Potter-Black, there will be no need for that," a cool, drawling voice said as it formed from darkness. Black shaped emerged out of thin air around them. The imposter she pinned turned to black cloud that reappeared behind the figure that spoke. Small flashes of eyes gleamed in the dark beneath slits of the hoods. Each of their wands was raised, except one. [B5, 780-781]

"Mr. Malfoy," Siria greeted a tall, slender, masked figure. Mr. Malfoy dropped the pretenses and removed his hood. "Am I correct to assume the prophecy can only be removed by me or Voldemort?" Siria directed her wand at the prophecy. She released sparks and heard them held their breath. [B5, 786]

"Yes, quite clever, aren't you?" Mr. Malfoy told Siria in a drawl not unlike his son's. "Why don't we arrange a trade? Your.. 'Father' for the Prophecy?"

"That's a good place to start," Siria told him. "Bring him or I burn it," Siria said as she let just the smallest wisp of smoke spiral from her wand tip. "Once I confirm who you bring is the real Sirius Black, I'll hand over the Prophecy."

"How can we be sure you'll hold up your end?" Malfoy asked.

"Because I wouldn't put it past Voldemort to kill you to set an example of what failing him looks like," is what Siria wanted to say. There was no way to say what she wanted. No way to say she believed Draco Malfoy could still change that maybe even the Death Eaters could see why they were wrong.

"That's your gamble, isn't it?" Siria said instead. "Could you lot 'strong arm' me into handing it over if I don't? Is it worth the gamble? Voldemort couldn't very well come to the Ministry when they've turned a blind eye to his return." The words hurt. Why hadn't someone questioned her? She didn't even question herself. Siria thought Voldemort had Sirius at the Ministry because that's where Sirius was. It was like trying solve a math problem with only half the question, but they believed her. "It's on you to get them out," Siria told herself.

"Take the small one," the one with Sirius's face told Malfoy, "and torture her until the brat hands it over." The group closed around Luna, who was smallest with Ginny gone. Siria let more sparks fly. [B5, 783]

"How upset would your master be to learn the Prophecy melted and no one caught a word?" Siria asked. Pink spotted Mr. Malfoy's nose, a family tell. "I'll be gracious, even," Siria said, "and let you talk amongst yourselves," and she bowed. Her eyes remained on them as she took a step back, into Ron.

"He's here," Alice whispered. "He's terrified of spiders and allergic to dogs."

"If only they all were," Maddy whispered back. "Is the plan the same?" Siria pretended to tighten her ponytail. She held two fingers then three.

"Follow the string to regroup," Siria said, though she could only see Hermione's. The others' eyes wandered to something that Siria couldn't see, but knew was there.

"Okay," Patricia said. "We don't know they they don't have more Polyjuice on them, so remember your questions." Maddy squeezed Alice's hand, as Alice continued to glare at the hooded figure that was her father.

"For Sirius, There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly," Siria whispered "or anything you can remember from The Princess Bride."

"Alright, Ms. Potter-Black," Mr. Malfoy said. "We shall have someone collect your 'father'," he walked toward the prophecy, "Once he is in sight, you shall confirm it is him, and then hand over the Prophecy."

"Normally, I would say let's make an Unbreakable Vow," Siria saw and knew some of the others did too, the rock of Mr. Malfoy's foot. It wasn't enough to cause him to walk back, but enough to show his hesitation. Though Mr. Malfoy didn't know it, Siria spent enough time with Draco to see just how much he was his father's son. "But I've already made one," she lied.

"Shame," Mr. Malfoy said. "We'll just have to take the other's word on it."

"I suppose I could send a few people to go with yours," Siria said. "Unless you're worried some Death Eaters could be overpowered by a few teenagers?"

"Ms. Potter-Black, I would not put it past your friends to try," Mr. Malfoy said.

This, Siria hoped, would be her only gamble. Somehow, the shaking stopped, though her heart ached worse than ever. She listened to the slow, simple duple of the three Death Eaters' footsteps grow ever quieter until its end. Her scar pulsed and blurred her vision for a moment. Siria took a breath.

The string on her finger tugged. Hermione had pulled on it, to remind Siria she was not alone. "That's the problem," Siria thought. "If I were alone, what would it matter if I melted the Hall with them and me inside?"

Absently as she could make it seem, Siria tucked her hand into her jacket pocket. "Would you do something about their face?" Siria asked. She expected the Death Eaters to fill the time with a monologue, as Voldemort had, of their great plan. Siria could believe they overpowered Sirius with so many and took his hair for some Polyjuice Potion. She was curious about why they left Sirius alive, unless it was to torture him for information later, and how they knew he would be here tonight.

Mr. Malfoy took a wine bottle out of his cloak and poured it over the imposter. The lustrous dark hair, cool silver eyes, and handsome face of Sirius Black melted away. Though the hair remained dark, it was dry and frayed. Dark circles hung around the hollowed out, double-lidded eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange. While the fine tailored suit no longer fit her well, it still suited her.

Siria supposed they thought Bellatrix once knew her cousin better than the other Death Eaters; she certainly did not now. Sirius was a fan of small details. "He's such a dork," Siria thought at the buttons and how peculiar Sirius was with such little things.

For as much as he may dress up more the other Order members, he would not wear a polished, patent oxford here. All these little things Siria picked up with Sirius over the summer, priceless. Hermione's help with Occlumency, indispensable. Ron's help with strategy games and encouragement, immeasurable. Five years at Hogwarts, would it be enough? The extra years Lily Potter bought her… yet to be determined.

Footsteps began again. It was time to continue step three. Ron would need to lead the others. Why hadn't she told him he could? She should have encouraged him in some way. Said anything to convey her confidence in him.

As Siria approached the Prophecy, the Death Eaters closed around her. Alice watched her father. Hermione and Ron watched Mr. Malfoy. Neville kept his eyes on Bellatrix LeStrange. Luna, Maddy, and Patricia watched the other Death Eaters that circled Siria. She was isolated as three Death Eaters returned with Sirius.

Siria could have ran it through her head ten times and still not be prepared. Sirius wore shackles around his ankles and wrists. His clothes were tattered. He had a black eye. Sirius spat some blood on the hood of the bulky Death Eater that held him by his hair.

"Your voice can't shake and your question has to be something only he would know," Siria told herself. She squeezed her eyes shut then looked to Malfoy. "Unsilence him." Malfoy nodded to the three that held Sirius.

"RUN!" Sirius shouted. Siria took a breath. Something Sirius could answer that they couldn't. Her mind went blank.

"Beating a dead horse 1d6 at a time," Siria blurted. Sirius gaped at her. It wasn't from The Princess Bride or any of the movies they watched. She just happened to listen to the podcast in the office. Chloe acted annoyed, but laughed as she listened too.

"System Mastery," Sirius whispered, almost resigned.

It was now. Her fingers grazed the warm sphere and she forced them to close. "Accio!" Bellatrix called without a moment's hesitation. Siria stuffed the Prophecy in her jacket and zipped it with one hand while she used her other to point her wand at the ground, and summoned forth a jet of water that turned into a fountain then near river. Red fired all around her. Explosions blew up shelves and the Prophecies came crashing down. She ripped a blue bottle from her belt and threw it at the ground near Mr. Malfoy. It exploded in a massive wave, as Siria was washed by water with some of the Death Eaters, still firing silent stunners or disarming charms.

With her wand, Siria summoned up a smoke screen. She threw another Bottled Tidal Wave at a nearby shelf. Siria took a breath and dove under the water. There, she pulled off what looked like a green paintball. She smashed it in her fist then threw it toward the closest Death Eater. It rode the currant of the wave, as it grew, then tangled them. She swam toward Sirius, and linked her arms under his to pull him to the surface. They gasped for air.

As Siria melted Sirius's shackles, the water hissed. The wave reached its end as Siria stumbled to her feet with the freed Sirius. They bolted to the door with more jets of red and cries of "Accio!" after her. Neville crashed into the door before them.

"Locked!" he shouted at Siria. She grabbed his hand as they run toward the next door.

"They'll be fine," Siria told herself. She let go of Neville's hand to point her wand.

"Bombarda Maxima!" The shelves near the locked door exploded into a rain of blue smoke and hisses of the could-be.

Neville opened the door. Siria pushed Sirius through then slammed it behind her. Siria wrote "[Close]" at the bottom of the door and drew a line across.

BAM!

Someone ran into the door. Siria let out a slow breath, as she rested her scar against the cool door for a moment. She rummaged through her bag, in the darkness, for Madam Pomfrey's solution, which she dabbed on her scar with one hand and ran her wand along Sirius's cuts with her other.

Sirius knocked her wand from his face to hug her. "You—" Sirius said as he held her. "What were you thinking?" he asked as he loosened his grip to stare her in the eye. "You could be killed."

"Let's just focus on getting everyone out," Siria said.

"Um…" Neville uttered. Siria stepped back and turned. Her jaw fell. Massive, larger than her, some larger than Hagrid, spheres and lights floated in the darkness before Siria. Some were covered in ice, some with a yellow hue, one even seemed to spark.

"Hyperion?" Siria whispered at the sphere closest to her. It had to be Hyperion, with Titan and the others circling what was undoubtedly Saturn. She pointed to Saturn, as though sense would fall into place. Siria ran her hand over her head while she wondered if she hit it. "It's a Charm," Siria told herself, "or just very complicated magic…complicated magic." She shook her head and looked to the string around her finger.

"The others are this way," Siria said and pointed. Neville looked to his finger, and the other way. "Okay, well… Hermione is this way," Siria said. Who did she tie to Neville? "She'll be fine," Siria said. "It's Hermione, after all."

Neville led them to a door, which he cracked open, as another door in the room opened. "They're here!" an unfamiliar voice shrieked beneath a hood. Siria pushed Neville and Sirius into the next room.

"Pefynd Beignis!" She shouted and let a stampede of twisted, fiery stags charged after the Death Eater that shouted. She threw the door open and slammed it shut behind her. Siria wrote "[Close]" and drew a line across the door.

She turned around to face her friends and address their whispers— but only Neville and Sirius were there. "As you wish?" Siria asked the voices in the room. Westley said it enough in The Princess Bride that even Alice, who paid the least attention, should be able to recognize it, Siria thought as she stepped down.

Larger than the Great Hall and dimly lit in grey, the room formed a pit of descending stone bench-like levels around its center. There were doors around the room, at the level she stood, but Siria stepped down, onto the next layer of stone. Everything was so perfectly rectangular except the center and its archway. An odd, old archway with a tattered black curtain that fluttered in the otherwise still room. Someone or many people whispered through the curtain or where it somehow lead to. [B5, 773]

"We need to get out of here," Sirius said. Siria turned, close enough to the arch to touch it. She looked over her shoulder, to the door she entered through and realized she didn't remember walking this close.

"Are you okay?" Siria asked, as she climbed back up a few of the steps, toward Sirius.

"I was just petrified, but they took my wand," Sirius said. "We need to contact the Order."

"The Order has been contacted," Siria said as she reached the step beneath him.

Neville opened the door his string probably lead to. Someone called his name and he pulled the door open further. Alice and Luna ran into the room. Neville slammed the door behind them. Alice pointed her wand at the door then gasped for breath. She leaned on Luna as she scanned through the room. Alice held Luna's arm.

"Who has a Map?" Alice asked, her eyes on Siria. Siria nodded.

"Seamus and Parvati have mine, Bones has Cedric's—" Siria stopped at Alice's raised hand, as she let go of Luna.

"My ankle didn't get fixed right," Alice said and raised her swollen left ankle. Siria turned the dial on her bag, opened it, and tossed Alice a cold compress. Alice peeled off the back and stuck on the pad on her ankle. The ankle shrunk down to the size of the other.

"Hermione's this way," Siria said and pointed toward one of the other doors. Neville pulled one of Sirius's arms over his shoulders. He nodded to Siria. "Bellatrix has his wand."

"I know," Neville said. He led Sirius toward the door, with Luna and Alice ahead of them.

Siria turned back to the dias. The whispers. Something about them and how the curtain danced without any wind turned her stomach. She shook her head. Siria had to get Sirius and the others out. As she turned away again, Siria caught the faintest of inkling to what the voices behind the veil said, but she could ask them later.

Alice cracked the door open and asked "What's the main girl's name?" Siria hopped the first level of stone, as someone answered. "We've got them!" Alice called over her shoulder.

"Everyone looks okay," Luna told Siria, who rose to the next level. Sirius and Neville had just stepped into the room with the others when four doors blew open.

"Leave me behind!" Siria screamed at them. She pointed her wand at the door Hermione held open, which slammed shut. She pulled her wand-free hand down, then turned as if locking a deadbolt and thought "[Lock]!"

"Hand it over," Mr. Malfoy told Siria, as he approached. They surrounded her, as the Aurors had surrounded Professor McGonagall. If McGonagall couldn't take four Aurors, Siria knew she couldn't take the ten or so Death Eaters.

"You should go home, Mr. Malfoy," Siria said. "I'm sure your son would like you home for summer."

"Oh, I will be," Mr. Malfoy said. Bellatrix tried to summon the prophecy again. It tugged at the jacket pocket, but remained zipped in.

Siria was hit with the overwhelming feeling of elation, enough to vomit in such a stressful time. She threw the Imperius Curse off before an order could be given. Terror devoured her. Before the Curse, she barely felt it, but the stark contrast of elation and horror rubbed her fears in her face.

Why had she even taken it? Why had she not just handed it over? Siria wonderded, though she suspected she knew. In Voldemort's mind, she knew how much he wanted it. "More than the girl" was the feeling. More than he wanted her dead, he wanted to know what the prophecy said. Siria gritted her heel into the stone. If Voldemort's cry of "She's mine" still stood, they couldn't kill her, that was his victory to be had, as he thought it was meant to be when she a child, then again last year.

"I must say," Siria stalled, "Voldemort cares for education— waited until after finals or got me out of them half my years of school, and I've got my History O.W.L..." Mr. Malfoy extended his hand. His cool silver eyes were upon her.

"The time for your games is over," Mr. Malfoy said.

"It was never a game for me," Siria said, as she moved toward her pocket. The plan did well enough, especially with how much Siria simplified it.

1) Distract.

2) Divide.

3) Be Prepared to Improvise.

The Weasley twins lead a flawless distraction. Only Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass seemed to notice something off. Everyone's willingness to be a roadblock, so Siria could continue, let their division go so smoothly. She was proud of their improvisation up to this point. There were potions on her belt, plants still in her bag, but she felt out of material.

Siria unzipped her pocket. Inside, she fought the prophecy's pull on its way to someone. It tugged her hand around, with the different attempts to summon it. Siria tightened her grip. Could she break it in her grasp?

"This is your last chance to go home," Siria said. It was half a bluff, as flame started to seep from the tip of her wand.

"Stupefy!" Bellatrix shouted. Siria let go of the prophecy, zipped her pocket then motioned with her free hand and focused, more than she may have ever before on her magic. The jet of red seemed to reflect off the air before Siria's hand as the twisted stag formed and scrapped its fire hoof along the stone, which hissed as it burned.

"I'm taking you out with me," Siria shouted. More fire roared from her wand as fiends burned to life.

A strange feeling hit Siria. It wasn't elation, from an Imperius Curse. The feeling was subtle, but it was even more than a feeling, she knew. Somehow, she knew wasn't alone. Siria clenched her fist, the small silver ring accented with the little crystals of green, silver, red, and gold felt warm and in sync with her burning spirit.

Four more doors burst open and no less than two people rushed in from each. Remus and Tonks leapt down toward Bellatrix Lestrange. Moody and Kingsley went right for the Death Eaters before them. Amos Diggory and Marcus Flint took up with the Death Eaters before them as Cassius Warrington charged for Siria. Two women Siria only knew in passing from the Order, Emmeline Vance and Hestia Jones, rushed into the room with Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour. [B5, 801]