A/N: Well look who isn't dead! Yeah I finally got around to updating this fic. I'm sure you've all forgotten what was happening so a reread may be in order... I'm so sorry for leaving it for so long, I'm a terrible person. Anyway I will continue grovelling after the fic, enjoy!
Chapter 20
Harry sat at his desk, looking wearily down at the paper in front of him. He needed something, anything to occupy his mind instead of the constant thoughts of Bill. Order members had taken to hanging around in Grimmauld place more often these days, taking solace in each other's company while trying to come to terms with their grief. Harry had taken to hiding away in his room, the blank empty expressions on the faces of Arthur and Molly making him feel sick to his stomach. What had happened to them, to their son, was devastating, tragic. Bill was so strong, so young, and what had been just a simple shift at work for the Order had ended in the most horrific way. No one could have expected it, however it was plain to see that Arthur and Molly felt responsible. There was nothing they could've done, however. Bill was an adult, and they couldn't keep him safe from everything, not when he had given his life to serve the Order of the Phoenix.
Ten Death Eaters had descended at once on an unsuspecting Bill, who had simply been staking out a place off the coast from Azkaban to listen out for news. Harry hadn't even known that Order members were so far out listening for information but he supposed it made sense to be on the lookout for danger. Word spreads, and even Dementors can't keep prison rumours inside their walls. Sadly, Voldemort had been quiet enough, stealthy enough to break his way in there without word reaching Bill first. Clearly the Order had suspected that a breakout was going to happen, or they wouldn't have stationed someone there. Harry assumed he had not been told this rather important information for fear of Voldemort seeing it in his mind and knowing the Order had knowledge of his plans.
It made Harry wonder just how much other vital information he had been missing out on, because of this stupid connection with Voldemort that he had no control over. Dumbledore had let him become a member of the Order in name, but when it came to actually participating? All he could do was sit here in this house, doing nothing, attending Order meetings where the same tired discussions happened again and again. Of course they'd been holding back, there was so much more to it than this. It was of course unlikely that Harry would ever get to hear the important information, not while Voldemort still lived, while he still had access to Harry's thoughts and feelings.
It hadn't helped, though, had it. All this knowledge and secrecy the Order had and yet Bill was still dead, Arthur and Molly had lost their eldest son. Ron and his brothers had lost their oldest brother. None of the other Weasley children had even known a life without Bill in it. Ron was home from Hogwarts for a week or two to deal with his grief, along with Ginny, however Harry never saw either of them. They didn't appear for meals, or even leave their rooms it seemed. Once or twice Harry had knocked on the door and tried to speak to Ron, he knew what it was like to live with the death of family members after all. However, Ron never answered and he didn't want to impose, not at a time like this.
Harry had helpfully offered to sleep 'on the couch' in Sirius's room to give Ron space, but he hadn't used this opportunity to be physically close with Sirius. They were too devastated, too shocked to even think about anything like that. Sirius simply held Harry close every night and whispered that he loved him, and that nothing was going to happen to either of them. The words had a bitter edge to them, they both knew that nothing could get to them while they stayed hidden in Grimmauld place, away from the action. There was an unspoken agreement that they both wished they were out there spying for the Order, despite the risks. Better to die on the job than to waste away, hidden away from life.
Harry glanced back down at the paper he held in his shaking hands, the words blurring in front of his tired eyes, but a phrase suddenly caught his attention. 'Riddle's Diary'. He read it again, and then read the whole piece of paper over. It was the list he had scribbled down in haste after his dream, the one he had run to Dumbledore about, nearly forgetting to put on clothes because he was so eager. The list of items Voldemort had been thinking about, with some sort of significance to destroying him. Harry had pored over and over this list trying to work out how exactly these items could come together to destroy Voldemort, but his ideas had come to nothing. There didn't seem to be any link between a diary, a locket, a cup, a tiara, and a ring.
Harry frowned. The diary. In his dream, Voldemort had been thinking about the diary being destroyed, and he was furious about it. He was thinking that he was glad the other items were safe and that no one could get to them. What if…what if that meant that the significance of the objects wasn't to unite them, but to destroy them? Harry had accidentally destroyed one of them in his second year of Hogwarts, and the rest… Dumbledore! That's what he was up to, he was destroying them! The blackened hand that Dumbledore had suffered, it must have come about from trying to destroy these objects. He had taken to wearing a ring with a crack down the middle, as if something had broken it… and wasn't one of the items a ring?
Hands shaking even more, Harry's mind raced. Whenever Dumbledore had been absent from Hogwarts for a while, he must've been searching for these items, he imagined years of research were behind this. Dumbledore was probably at this very moment trying to track down these items and destroy them all. How many were left? The diary, Harry already knew was destroyed. The ring it appeared was already destroyed also. Harry glanced at the list. A locket… Harry's eyes widened. A locket! He thought back to that day when they were busy tidying Grimmauld place and they had found a heavy locket that no one could open. Dumbledore looked at it with interest and took it away without telling anyone anything about it.
So that meant at least three objects were potentially gone! A cup remained, which Dumbledore now knew was in a Gringotts vault. Leaving just the diadem, the tiara thing. He wondered how Dumbledore would know where to find it, would it be like a needle in a haystack or did Dumbledore have knowledge that Harry was unaware of? But then, it came to him. It had been a while since this conversation had taken place, but Harry vividly remembered Dumbledore asking him with a serious look in his pale blue eyes whether he could think of somewhere Voldemort would hide something important to him. Harry had answered Hogwarts, and Dumbledore had been sceptical until Dobby of all people had mentioned the Room of Requirement and Dumbledore had run off immediately. That must mean that the last item, the diadem, must've been hidden in the Room of Requirement! It all made sense now. He bet Dumbledore was out searching right now for clues as to who's Gringotts vault the final item was in. Unfortunately, even Dumbledore couldn't just break into Gringotts, so Harry imagined it would take some serious research and planning to get into the vault of someone who was probably one of Voldemort's closest Death Eaters.
Even so, it seemed like Dumbledore was edging closer and closer to defeating Voldemort, and Harry couldn't help but feel a small flame of hope ignite inside him. It kept him going over the next few days, through the hushed and downcast Order meetings that usually brought the news of another important witch or wizard having been taken captive and tortured or murdered by Death Eaters. Through the tears at Bill's funeral, which Harry was originally not allowed to attend, until he turned into his animagus form and refused to let them leave him behind. He sat on a gnarled tree branch and watched with anger and grief as Bill's coffin was laid to rest in the gardens of the Burrow. Hermione created a beautiful archway covered in flowers to stand above the grave, with spells weaved through it to stop the flowers from ever wilting, or the grass to become overgrown.
Order members began visiting less and less, as the shock of Bill's death began to recede and the grief sank to a dull pain inside Harry instead of a sharp stab every time he took a breath. He took to flying at night to escape from the world, forgetting his fears and his depression when he took to the skies in his raven animagus form. He felt free, out in the cold winter air with nothing but his own wings to keep him in the sky. The stars seemed to surround him, the trees and buildings below seeming insignificant in their tiny size. He was sure Sirius could tell he was out flying half the night instead of sleeping but he didn't say anything, for which Harry was grateful.
As the days went by without any news from Dumbledore, and with more and more dark news of magical kidnappings and muggle tortures, Harry's hope seemed to die. He didn't know what to believe anymore, he was sick of living in this state of constant anxiety, not knowing what was happening out there apart from death and destruction. Not even his friends at Hogwarts could help, Ron being withdrawn and depressed himself, and Hermione preoccupied with trying to help him. Harry couldn't blame them for not answering when he called.
It was Sirius that pulled Harry out of his depression. Sirius, with his concerned smiles, his warm touch, the fire he ignited inside Harry just by being himself. Harry was more aware than ever that he loved Sirius with such a raw passion that it sometimes overwhelmed him. As time passed, they became closer physically again, desperate for each other's touch after several weeks of abstinence. Most nights Harry writhed beneath Sirius's touch, their bodies becoming one as they healed each other and became closer than ever before. Harry wasn't sure he'd even be able to survive in the event of Sirius one day being cleared of his charges and being able to leave the house. What was his life even like before he started living here with Sirius? It was often difficult to remember. Separation did not seem like an option, now.
Reality came crashing back down around Harry with the arrival of Severus Snape on his doorstep. It seemed Dumbledore had advised the grouchy potions master not to disturb Harry with lessons for a few weeks to give him time to grieve, but now he was back with a vengeance. Harry sent Sirius upstairs and invited Snape reluctantly into the drawing room to continue their Occlumency lessons.
"I trust you've probably forgotten everything you learnt in our previous lesson, so let us assume that we are starting from square one," Snape said snidely, looking at Harry as if he was a piece of dirt on the floor. Harry glared back, angry because he knew it was true. Occlumency had been far from his mind over the past few weeks, his mind far from empty. It was instead full of overwhelming thoughts of Bill, of the muggle tortures in the news, of his love for Sirius. This was all going to be an issue, his thoughts of Sirius especially. He gulped, trying desperately not to think about his relationship with Sirius, and in the process pushing it to the front of his mind.
Snape squared up in front of him, wand at the ready. Harry nervously placed his hand on his own wand in his pocket, willing to do anything to stop Snape from seeing anything he shouldn't.
"Legilimens", Snape spoke in his smooth, dangerous voice, black eyes piercing into Harry's anxious green ones. Immediately Harry's surroundings changed from the drawing room to the kitchen where he was sitting, being told that Bill had died. The scene changed, it was night, he was flying, he spotted a mouse running on the ground and swept into a dive, catching the mouse and swallowing it down in one gulp. Now he was back at Grimmauld place, and Sirius was standing in front of him, his trademark sexy smile on his face. They walked closer together, embracing, Sirius' mouth getting closer and closer to his own…
"NO!" Harry shouted, feeling his wand in his hand, and before he knew it he'd cast a shield charm instinctively. Suddenly, it wasn't his own memories he was seeing. A young boy with greasy black hair sat in the corner of a dank room as his parents fought, his father striking his mother in the face. Now, the boy was older, a teenager, Harry recognised the setting as a tree by the lake at Hogwarts. Two boys were ganging up on him, while others hung back, calling him 'Snivellus'. Harry knew exactly who they were without having to hear their names. One looked eerily like him, except with hazel eyes instead of bright green. The other, a much younger version of his beloved Sirius.
Harry frowned as he saw them terrorising Snape, calling him names, hanging him upside down and making him show his underwear. They weren't just pulling a harmless prank, this was bullying. He knew bullying when he saw it, having been the victim of it all his years before he went to Hogwarts and escaped his evil cousin and his friends. Harry gasped as his mother came to the rescue, then the anger hit as Snape called her a Mudblood. Harry began to shake, when suddenly he was pulled out of the memory and back into the real world, face to face with a livid Severus Snape. Harry opened his mouth to apologise, but he didn't have time to get any words out before Snape's fist connected with his jaw. Harry fell to the floor, too surprised to defend himself.
"These lessons are over, Potter," Snape spat at him, stepping over him towards the door. Harry scrabbled to his feet, but before he could even get out of the room he heard the front door slam shut, the portrait of Mrs Black screaming to life, Sirius's steps immediately thundering down the stairs as he raced down to see what had happened. Harry stood by the bottom of the stairs in a daze, trying to process what the hell had just happened. Sirius quickly shut up the portrait of his mother before turning to Harry, eyes widening as he saw the blossoming bruise on his right eye.
"Harry, what the hell was that? What happened to your face?" Sirius asked quickly, walking nearer to Harry, who blinked and stepped backwards away from him. Sirius stopped, looking concerned. "Harry?" He asked tentatively, as Harry narrowed his eyes at him.
"I just saw an interesting memory from our beloved potions master," Harry started, staring down Sirius. He could feel anger building inside him, he couldn't control it, hearing glasses start to rattle in the cabinets next to him. "When he was at school, you…you and my dad…" Harry said, struggling to get the words out. "You bullied him. You made his life hell. Why? Why would you do that? I know he's a slimy little rat but that's no excuse."
Sirius looked confused, and a little scared. "You're angry about something I did at school? That was years ago Harry, I don't understand. Why does it matter?"
"Why does it matter?" Harry said, his voice raising, "it matters because I thought you were a good person but apparently I was wrong! You're nothing but a bully!"
"Don't talk about things you don't understand, Harry!" Sirius glared angrily at him, "You don't know what he was like back then, he was hanging around with Death Eaters, he was— "
"It doesn't matter what he was like! It doesn't make any difference, you still bullied him! You were such a…"
"A what, Harry? Go on, say it!" Sirius goaded him, stepping into his personal space, their faces inches apart. Harry felt no desire to kiss the man, however. He only felt raw anger and disappointment.
"You were a dick! You were an arrogant dick! Merlin, I hate you!" Harry shouted, running past Sirius up the stairs to his old bedroom, the one had occupied before he became close to Sirius. He slammed the door, cast as many locking charms as he knew on it and flung himself down on his bed, fuming. He distantly heard the stomping footsteps of Sirius walking past his room and up the stairs to his own bedroom on the floor above.
He couldn't believe how arrogant and irritating his father and Sirius had been in school. Snape had always said it, and Harry had vehemently disagreed. After all, didn't everyone always tell Harry how great his father was? And yet, it seemed that Snape was right all along. Harry would always be the first to admit that Snape was a deeply unpleasant person, but that didn't give James and Sirius the right to treat him like that. Harry himself knew what it was like to be bullied like that, how it felt to have everyone hate him, and he wouldn't wish it on anyone.
Harry knew Sirius hated Snape but he had no idea it went so far back, and the way he still spoke to Snape it was as if he hadn't grown up at all. The scene they had made in the kitchen, the day Snape came to tell Harry about his Occlumency lessons, made so much more sense now. There was all that bad blood between them because of the actions of James and Sirius in school. Harry sighed in frustration.
They both stayed away from each other for the remainder of the day, Harry sneaking downstairs to the kitchen for some dinner when he was sure the coast was clear, running back upstairs with his food and eating it in his bedroom with the door locked again. He couldn't believe Sirius had been such a bastard when he was at school. The way they had ganged up on Snape, called him names, it just hit so close to home. And Sirius didn't seem to have any remorse, he was still the arrogant prick he had been as a teenager. Yes, he knew perfectly well that Snape had grown up to be a Death Eater and Sirius had every right to hate him, Harry hated him just as much himself. But it was so cruel, so close to what he had experienced himself that Harry just found himself unable to get over this at the moment.
His head pounding, Harry finally climbed wearily into bed, not even bothering to try to empty his mind. He knew perfectly well that it wasn't going to work, not tonight. He fell into a fitful sleep, with vague dreams of conflict and anger, tossing and turning in his sheets. Suddenly, the dream turned into something else. It was vivid, clear, and he knew that he wasn't in his own mind any more. Looking around, Harry saw that he was standing in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic, the same place where he had been having his dreams. He was in the large hall that was full of glass balls, thousands of them on shelves around him. He looked to the ground and saw two figures huddled together, cowering beneath him and he pointed his wand in their direction.
Speaking in a high, cold voice, Harry spoke. "Crucio", he said, a smile on his face, as he watched the girl scream in agony, writhing on the ground, the redheaded boy shouting in fear and anger, screaming her name, tears in his eyes. Harry laughed, turning his wand on the boy instead, enjoying the pain on his freckled face.
Harry suddenly sat up in bed, shaking, covered in a cold sweat. He scrambled out of bed, doubling over and retching, vomiting on the floor. He sank to his knees, unable to stand. Voldemort had Ron and Hermione at the Ministry of Magic, he was torturing them. He didn't know why, or what he was going to do, but he automatically strode towards the wardrobe and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and his trainers. He picked up his wand and strode towards the door, grabbing some muggle money as an afterthought, before running quietly down the stairs and towards the front door.
He had a vague plan to get the tube to the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic, he still remembered where it was from when he had visited for his trial. Waking Sirius was the last thing he wanted to do, there was no way he was getting him into such a dangerous situation. As an afterthought, he hastily scribbled a note and left it in the kitchen for Sirius to find in the morning. Harry would be long gone by then, and hopefully would've found Ron and Hermione. He didn't have a plan further than that, but that wasn't his priority at the moment. All he could think about was the fact that his two best friends were being tortured and he had to get there before Voldemort murdered them. There was a pounding in his head, his heart was racing, and his chest felt constricted as if he couldn't breathe. Rational thought was impossible right now, Harry just tried to focus on getting where he needed to be, to save his friends.
Running down the street, Harry headed towards the nearest tube station, glad there weren't many people around at this time of night. He got onto the next tube, sitting down and tapping his foot, unable to stop fidgeting. He couldn't believe this was happening. Thank Merlin Snape had weakened his mind with his stupid Occlumency lessons or Harry would've never seen the vision, and then…well, that didn't bear thinking about. He stood up, pacing restlessly up and down the tube car. The only other occupant of this carriage looked at him oddly, a drunk-looking young woman who was swigging from a bottle of vodka every now and then. Harry ignored her, sprinting from the tube the second it arrived at the correct station.
London had an eerie quality to it at night, it was strange seeing it when the streets weren't packed with commuters and tourists. It felt like a ghost town, and the strange atmosphere only added to the tendrils of fear that were wrapping themselves around Harry's chest as he tried to keep his breathing even. He raced down the dark streets, only briefly hesitating to make sure he didn't run in the wrong direction. London could be confusing at the best of times and everything looked different in the dark. Before too long, however, he was running towards the telephone box that was the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic. He got in and dialled the number 62442, easy to remember because it spelled out the word magic.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business". The cool female voice spoke, unaware of Harry's urgency.
"Harry Potter, I'm here to save my best friends!" Harry shouted angrily at the receiver, slamming it down and anxiously waiting for the lift to move. "Come on, hurry up!" he shouted, turning at the sound of something dropping from the telephone receiver. He picked up the badge it printed, which read 'Harry Potter – Rescue Mission', and sighed. After what seemed an age, the telephone box finally began to descend into the ground, at what felt to Harry like the slowest pace he had ever moved.
The lift finally reached the Atrium and Harry sprinted out, towards the lifts that would take him to the deepest depths of the Ministry of Magic. He crashed his way into the lift, slamming his finger repeatedly into the number nine button until the doors closed and it began to move downwards, Harry nervously aware of how loud the lift was. He was sure he should've seen a security guard or something by now, which was rather ominous. It seemed Voldemort had effectively rid the Ministry of anyone that would oppose him.
Finally, the lift reached floor number nine and he impatiently pushed out of the lift as soon as the doors opened, running down the corridor past the flickering torches towards the black door, feeling as if he was back in his dream. It felt like he had been here so many times before, but in reality he had never stepped through that door. Now, the time had come.
Harry pushed the door and it opened easily, just as it had in his dream. Running forwards, he saw that he was in the round room full of doors, and sprinted forwards through the door directly in front of him, coming into the room that glittered. It was full of a mechanical ticking noise, and he realised as he ran through that there were thousands of clocks that were shining all over the room. He didn't have time to remark on the strangeness as he reached the end of the long room and encountered another door. Luckily, this one opened as easily as the first, just as it had in his dream. It really shouldn't be this easy for someone to just walk into the Department of Mysteries, Harry thought to himself. Something here was not right. He walked through the door, and his eyes widened.
This was it. The room where Voldemort had Ron and Hermione. The ceiling was as high as a church, and wall to ceiling all around the room were hundreds of shelves full of thousands and thousands of small glass balls, each with a small inscription underneath. Harry ran into the room, remembering that Voldemort had been near row number 97. He rushed forwards, getting closer and closer, number 40, number 50, he couldn't see anything yet. 94, 95, 96…97. He was here, but no one else was. There was no sign of a struggle, nothing to suggest anyone had been there. This aisle looked just like the rest of them, not a single mark was visible on the dusty floor. Looking around in confusion for clues, one of the inscriptions on the shelf caught his eye.
"My name…" Harry murmured, stepping forwards to read the whole inscription. 'SPT to APWBD. Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter'. He had no idea what that meant, but he was intrigued. Would anything terrible happen if he picked up the glass ball? Carefully, Harry raised his hand upwards and lightly touched the sphere with the tips of his fingers. When nothing happened, he threw caution to the wind and picked up the glass ball, looking interestedly at it. It felt warm to the touch, as though it had been sitting in the sun, and it almost seemed to glow from within. He was just about to pocket it and continue on with his quest to find Ron and Hermione when he heard the swish of a cloak behind him and a silky voice spoke his name.
"Ah, Harry Potter, you made it just in time. It turns out the Dark Lord was correct, you really are that naïve," the voice of Lucius Malfoy spoke smugly from behind an elaborate Death Eater's mask. He was standing at the end of the row of spheres, blocking Harry's path with several other masked and cloaked figures. Harry counted quickly, it seemed there were at least nine or ten of them. He gulped, trying to work out his options and drew a blank. His only option was to stall for time until an opportunity for escape became apparent.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked quickly, although he already had an idea. How could he have been so stupid? Dumbledore had told him, and Snape had told him that Voldemort could put thoughts in Harry's mind that weren't his own. But when it happened, he had been so quick to become the hero and save his friends that he hadn't thought twice about whether the vision had been real or not. Why would Voldemort have had Ron and Hermione in the Department of Mysteries anyway? How would he have abducted them out of Hogwarts? It made no sense, and Harry knew it. He gulped, trying to assess the situation. If Voldemort had wanted to lure him here, but he hasn't here himself, then what did he want? If he wanted to kill him then he wouldn't have gone to the trouble of luring Harry into the bowels of the Ministry of Magic with all of his best Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy's irritating voice interrupted his panicked thoughts.
"I think you know what I mean, Potter," Lucius spoke smoothly, and Harry could almost hear the smirk on his face beneath that stupid mask. "Our Dark Lord needed you here, so he lured you with a vision of your stupid little friends being tortured. Some of us were sceptical that you would manage to get here, but of course the Dark Lord knows you well. You would do anything, no matter how stupid or impossible, to run to the rescue of your little friends. How touching," Lucius said, stalking towards Harry. He removed the mask from his face, in a move that would have been a lot more dramatic if Harry didn't already know exactly who he was. The other Death Eaters followed suit and Harry glanced at them, recognising Bellatrix Lestrange amongst the rabble of somewhat unpleasant looking robed figures surrounding him.
"Well, what does Voldemort want with me?" Harry asked, smiling when the Death Eaters all responded with anger to the name of their master being so blatantly spoken in front of them. It probably wasn't a good idea to antagonise a bunch of Death Eaters when you were outnumbered ten to one, but at this point Harry didn't much care. It seemed there was almost no way he was going to survive this encounter anyway.
"How dare you speak his name?" Bellatrix screeched at Harry, sounding much like a tortured cat. It reminded Harry somewhat of the portrait of Mrs Black back at Grimmauld place. It certainly seemed that Bellatrix had inherited the crazy Black family genes.
"Calm down, Bellatrix," Lucius said quietly, causing her face to scrunch up with rage. Harry could tell he was enjoying being in charge here, it sickened him. "Just hand over the prophecy, Potter, and you won't even get hurt." Harry looked into Lucius's silver eyes, his own eyes narrowing slightly. He didn't care for Lucius's bullshit lies, of course they would hurt him. He was more interested in what Lucius had called the little glass sphere.
"Hand over the what?"
"He doesn't know what it is!" Bellatrix cackled loudly, and Harry was even more confused. This little glass ball was a prophecy? What did that even mean?
"My, my, Potter, it seems Dumbledore really hasn't told you anything. How touching, did he want to protect you? Or does he really not care at all?" Lucius smiled coldly, obviously trying to goad Harry into wanting answers. Annoyingly, it was working.
"Tell me what you mean, or I'll smash it," Harry said, and that wiped the smirk off of Malfoy's face.
"You dare, Potter…" Bellatrix whispered, several of the other Death Eaters shifting nervously. Excellent, Harry thought, I have their attention now.
"You will do no such thing, Potter, or I will kill you right here, right now. Hand it over."
"Tell me what you mean, first," Harry insisted. "A prophecy? About what?"
Lucius looked at him incredulously. "Dumbledore really didn't tell you? Did you never wonder how you got that scar, what happened to your parents all those years ago?"
Harry gaped at him, not even thinking about stalling anymore. There was a prophecy hidden deep in the depths of the Ministry of Magic that held the answers to why Voldemort had tried to kill him? And Dumbledore knew about it? That part didn't surprise Harry, however. Dumbledore never told him anything. He scowled at Lucius. "Just tell me what the prophecy is about, Malfoy. Unless you don't know either? I bet you're just bluffing so that I hand it over, trying to make me think you know all the answers. If Voldemort already knows what it says, then why does he want it so much?" Harry smirked, seeing the laughter on Lucius's face quickly disappear.
"Enough games, Potter. Hand it over, now," Lucius hissed, stalking closer to Harry until he had his wand gently resting directly on Harry's scar. He held out his hand impatiently, glaring into Harry's eyes as he waited for him to hand over the precious glass sphere. Harry gulped, unwilling to hand over the prophecy now that he knew what answers it held. Unless Lucius was lying about the whole thing, but Harry had a strange feeling that it was the truth. The inscription had said something about the Dark Lord and Harry Potter, hadn't it? This prophecy could tell him why his parents died on Halloween all those years ago. Why had Voldemort chosen them? Why had they tried to kill him, an innocent baby? He just had to find a way to get away from here, away from the Death Eaters so he could listen to it. Easier said than done.
Harry gritted his teeth, and prepared to do something extremely stupid. Maybe if he created a distraction… A distraction that didn't end in Lucius shooting a killing curse directly into his head, anyway. The main weapon he had at his disposal was the thousands of shelves all around them. If he could just break some of them down… He drew in a deep breath, discreetly pointing his wand at the nearest shelf of prophecies and shouted with as much force as he could muster "REDUCTO!"
The shelving smashed into millions of pieces, glass balls fell to the ground all around him and shattered, spraying broken glass in every direction. Harry immediately sprinted off in the opposite direction from the Death Eaters while they shielded their faces from shards of glass and recovered from the shock. He had a brief moment to notice the hundreds of pale figures of Seers rising from the glass and sombrely reciting their prophecies, before he reached the end of the aisle and turned, running as fast as he could towards the door. He could hear footsteps behind him, but luckily his distraction had given him the few seconds he needed to pull into the lead.
Harry sprinted back the way he had entered, the aisle numbers getting closer and closer to number one as he reached the door. If he could just get back out of the Department of Mysteries and into the Atrium where he had arrived…but what exactly did he plan to do after that? There was no way he could outrun a mob of ten or more Death Eaters, all of whom needed the prophecy from him to placate their Lord. 'I'll cross that bridge when I come to it', Harry thought grimly to himself, focusing on the door that he was rapidly approaching. He shoved it open and fell through, slamming it shut behind him with as much force as he could muster. The door almost opened as the heavy thuds of angry Death Eaters pounded into it from the other side, but Harry just about managed to hold on long enough to remember the locking charm Hermione had taught him.
"Colloportus!" He shouted, pointing his wand at the door and hoping it would hold. He gingerly let go, and when the door didn't immediately burst inwards he quickly turned and ran through the room that was full of Time. Clocks of all shapes and sizes glittered and ticked all around him, and he spied an entire cabinet full of Time Turners like the one Hermione had been entrusted in their third year at Hogwarts. Harry didn't have time to stop and stare at the wonders that this room held, although he halted slightly as the sound of thousands of clocks all chiming at once suddenly filled the room. Catching his breath, he quickly reached the other end of the Time room just as the Death Eaters managed to slam their way into the room from the other side.
Emerging into the dark, circular room he had entered through, Harry quickly closed the door behind him and immediately regretted it as the light shut out and a distant rumbling started to sound around him. The doors all around the room began spinning around, or was it the floor that was spinning? Harry looked around him in confusion, feeling disorientated, and watched the doors all slowing down and coming to a stop. The building obviously wanted to confuse him, and it was doing a very good job of it. Harry sighed and jogged towards the nearest door, hoping to Merlin that he didn't open up the door he'd just left that the Death Eaters were running towards. He eased the door open with trepidation and looked in. It wasn't the Time room, but it wasn't the way out either. As he was about to close the door and try again, he suddenly heard the unmistakeable sound of Bellatrix screeching behind him as the Death Eaters entered the round room, and he had no choice but to sprint forwards into the room ahead of him to escape being captured.
The floor immediately disappeared beneath him, Harry tumbled down countless steps all the way down to the bottom of what appeared to be an amphitheatre of sorts, as he looked around blearily from his position on the floor. Stone steps rose all around him, leading down towards a raised platform that he had rolled next to. Harry stood shakily to his feet, automatically patting his pocket and finding the prophecy miraculously intact. He turned to look closer at the platform behind him, and saw an old, crumbling archway with a black veil hanging from it. The veil softly moved as if in a breeze, although there was no wind whatsoever in that strange stone room. As Harry inched nearer to the dais, he could swear he heard voices whispering behind the veil. Quickly running around to the other side, Harry expected to see someone hiding but there was no one there, just the other side of the eerie black veil, softly blowing in the imaginary wind. Something about it drew him in, he moved forwards in an almost trance-like state as he neared the veil.
A loud cackle from behind him pulled Harry out of his thoughts, jolting back into the real world. There was something strange about that veil, but he did not have the time to dwell on it at the moment. Death Eaters were descending on him from all angles, a quick count told Harry there were thirteen of them in total. He recognised Lucius and Bellatrix of course, and one or two others that he'd seen photos of after the mass breakout from Azkaban. Dolohov, Mulciber, and others that Harry was fairly certain were parents of Hogwarts students. Crabbe and Goyle were there, looking just as stupid as their sons frequently did, Nott, and the unsavoury Macnair that had beheaded Buckbeak back in third year.
Harry gulped, looking around himself in trepidation. This was it, he was trapped in this stone room, which might as well be his coffin, outnumbered thirteen to one. He held the prophecy in his trembling hand, gazing up at the smug Lucius Malfoy who stood nearest to him, Bellatrix one step behind him to his right, a crazed expression of joy and exhilaration on her once beautiful face.
"Give it up, Potter. The game is over, you've lost. Hand me the prophecy and you won't get hurt." Malfoy spoke calmly, but there was anger behind his eyes. Good, Harry thought to himself. At least I made him angry, if I could do nothing else. He knew, of course, that Lucius Malfoy would never let him go unharmed. The man's lies were useless. All Harry knew was that the prophecy was somehow needed by Voldemort, and if he couldn't get out of this situation alive then he was going to die destroying the prophecy so no one could hear it. How, was the only question remaining. If he just smashed it right now, in front of all the Death Eaters, then they would all hear the prophecy as the Seer's ghostly form rose out of the glass sphere and recited their prophetic words, and then he would die for nothing.
"It seems Potter is not going to play nicely," Malfoy sneered. "Bellatrix, bring him here. Carefully," he emphasised, and Bellatrix stalked towards Harry with a spring in her step. She grabbed him forcefully by the arm, dragging him forwards towards Lucius Malfoy, who looked at him with derision. Sharp, unruly nails dug into Harry's arm as Bellatrix threw him to the ground, laughing maniacally as Lucius growled at her, "I said carefully!"
Harry lay on the ground, winded, waiting for death to come to him, when a sudden bang at the top of the room made him scramble upwards to see what was happening. All of the Death Eaters had turned to look upwards at the same time, giving Harry time to stagger to his feet and carefully place the prophecy back in his pocket. His mouth opened in shock as he saw what must've been a dream. Sirius burst into the room, closely followed by Remus, Tonks, Kingsley and Mad Eye Moody. Harry gazed at Sirius, his heart feeling like it could burst as he saw the fury on the older man's face. Their eyes sought each other out across the room, and Harry tried to silently apologise as best he could. The Order were only here because he was stupid enough to have fallen for Voldemort's tricks, and if anyone died at the hands of the Death Eaters tonight it would be entirely his fault.
Harry had the good sense to duck just as all hell broke loose. Sirius fired the first spell, shooting directly at Bellatrix who dodged it and laughed maniacally, pulling her own wand free and shooting emerald green spells at him, which Harry knew must be the killing curse. Everyone joined in at this point, the Order outnumbered but fighting hard nonetheless. A stunning spell missed Harry by inches as he ran forwards, determined to join in the fight. Running up several steps, Harry aimed an expelliarmus at a masked Death Eater who was busy duelling Mad Eye Moody. Wand flying from his hand, the Death Eater turned in frustration, giving Moody an opening to stun him straight in the face. Dodging the unconscious body that toppled past him, Harry turned and narrowly missed being hit by Bellatrix as she ran towards Sirius, seemingly determined to kill him.
Harry angrily shot several spells at her in quick succession, however none of them hit their mark through the mass of people, and the dust that was in the air. A purple spell suddenly came right at Harry who cast a hasty Protego just in time, the spell still hitting him and knocking him to the ground. The shield charm luckily took the brunt of it, but he felt like it had bruised several of his ribs. Looking around, Harry saw Kingsley Shacklebolt furiously duelling with three unknown Death Eaters, somehow managing to hold them all off. It would've been fascinating to watch, however some kind of explosive spell hit the ground inches from Harry's feet and he had to duck quickly to avoid being hit in the face with the flying shards of stone. One of the pieces hit the back of his head, and Harry gingerly touched it to see the damage. It was tender, and as he pulled his hand away he saw blood.
Harry didn't have time to feel the pain, within moments he was up and running along the stone step towards Tonks who was being attacked by two Death Eaters, one of whom appeared to be the executioner Macnair. Before Harry could get there, Tonks was knocked unconscious and fell to the ground, rolling down the steps and coming to a stop in a heap next to the stone dais. Harry's heart skipped a beat and he hoped to god that she was just knocked out. A quick glance around told Harry that there were approximately four or five Death Eaters out of action, but so far all members of the Order were up and fighting still, apart from Tonks. Remus was duelling with Lucius Malfoy, a large open wound on his face dripping blood as he shot curses at Malfoy with a furious gleam in his eye. Sirius was advancing on Dolohov, and Harry saw a well-timed Stupefy hit the Death Eater square in the chest, knocking him out cold.
Sirius saw Harry and ran over to him, grabbing him by the head and dragging them to the ground quickly to duck a killing curse aimed at them by the ever present Bellatrix.
"Harry!" Sirius panted, pulling him into a hug as they briefly hid on the ground behind the unconscious bodies of a couple of Death Eaters. "Thank Merlin you're ok. You need to get out of here," he said loudly over the sounds of battle around them.
"No way!" Harry replied angrily, "it's my fault everyone is here risking their lives! I'm not going to run away and hide like a child, I'm going to stay and fight!"
He looked fiercely into Sirius's eyes, challenging him to disagree. There was no way he was running away like a coward while other people fought for him. Sirius closed his eyes and sighed heavily, he already knew it was a lost cause trying to get Harry to leave. Without a second glance at who could be watching, Sirius pulled Harry into a kiss, wrapping his battle-stained hands around his face and gazing into his eyes. "Be careful," Sirius whispered. Harry flushed and smiled, then cried out as a spell hit the ground inches from where his hand had just been. The sweet moment over, they both jumped to their feet and re-joined the fray.
Harry was beginning to tire, but adrenalin kept his body moving. He shot spell after spell at the Death Eaters, hitting a couple more of them with stunners, adding to the pile of unconscious Death Eaters on the floor. He looked around and saw Moody crawling along the ground, his head bleeding and his eye missing. Reaching the lifeless form of Tonks, he began trying to revive her. As Lucius Malfoy advanced on Kingsley and Remus, Harry ran forwards to help when he tripped, his foot catching on the outspread arm of Macnair, who was lying unconscious or dead. Harry toppled and fell down the steps, hearing a sickening crunch underneath him as he fell. It became apparent that he hadn't broken a body part when the pale ghostly form of a young woman rose from the shattered remains of the prophecy and began speaking in a quiet voice that was impossible to hear above the racket that everyone was making. Harry ground his teeth in frustration that he wouldn't ever know what the prophecy had said, although at least he could be sure that Voldemort wouldn't hear it either.
Scrambling to his feet, Harry idly noticed that his leg was pouring blood where the prophecy had shattered beneath him and cut into his skin. He ran painfully, putting weight on his good leg, aiming spells towards Lucius Malfoy who dodged them all, but opened himself to get hit by a well-placed blasting spell by Remus. Malfoy fell backwards, cracking his head on the stone and shouting out in pain. Harry turned and saw Bellatrix and Sirius duelling on the dais in the centre of the room, and he got a bad feeling deep in his gut. There was something creepily wrong with that veil.
Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light, laughing at her. "You can do better than that!" he shouted, goading her. The second spell hit him directly in the chest, and time seemed to stand still. Harry was running down the steps but he didn't remember deciding to move. Sirius seemed to fall backwards in slow motion, the laughter on his face turning to a look of fear and confusion as he staggered backwards towards the eerie black veil behind him. Harry saw the triumphant expression on Bellatrix's face as she screamed with laughter, eyes alight with crazed joy. The room seemed deadly silent, apart from the strange whispering voices coming from behind the veil, they seemed louder than before as though calling Sirius to join them. Harry suddenly realised what the veil was. They were in the chamber of Death.
A/N: Please don't hate me for that ending. And for abandoning this for so long. And... ok fine, go ahead and hate me ;) on the plus side, I have nearly finished writing the next chapter which is the final one, so the end is actually in sight! Hopefully in the next few days, it will finally be complete. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I will see you all soon, for The End xox