BEFORE YOU READ THIS CHAPTER: I've done some SERIOUS editing to the previous chapters to improve character development. Up till now I've been rushing through the plot and not taken much time to introduce the secondary characters. Now, however, I've expanded the previous chapters with TONNES of new material, and filled in the plot holes, which you really should read BEFORE you keep reading from here.
Chapter Six: Return to the Department of Mysteries
Harry really did not like the idea of going back to the Department of Mysteries. That place held far too many bad memories. But it looked like they didn't have much of a choice. He didn't have a better plan.
April 22nd, he wrote, Told Albus I'd been to Department of Mysteries before.
With the prospect of a long life ahead of him, Harry had begun a diary. The idea had come after he realised he had let slip several things to Albus that he really shouldn't have. Keeping a record of what they were felt like a good idea; though he wasn't sure what he could do about it.
Harry tucked the diary away and braced himself, trying to look confident. "Ready?"
Albus, pale and quaking, nonetheless nodded. Harry reached out and, very slowly and carefully, opened the door an inch.
"The coast's clear."
They had spent the day discussing different ways of navigating the Department without getting lost or caught. Harry was as confident as he could be that they were prepared.
They slipped out of the Room of Requirement, and headed for the staircase. Portraits whispered as they passed, giving them disapproving looks for being out of bed so late.
Movement caught Harry's eye as they reached the sixth floor, and he grabbed Albus and pulled him behind a suit of armour. Peeking out, he saw the Defence teacher, Professor Burke, roaming the corridor. It was several minutes before he disappeared, allowing them to continue their journey.
Harry led Albus to a secret passage he remembered seeing on the Marauder's Map, but had never actually used since it led out of the castle—but into the Forbidden Forest, of all places.
"Please don't be sealed," Harry muttered as he pulled the tapestry in question aside. They were in luck. There was a gap in the wall about his shoulder height, which he shone his wand inside of and saw a narrow set of stairs leading downwards. "Looks usable."
"It's very high up," Albus said in a hushed voice.
"I'll give you a leg up."
He cupped his hands, and Albus placed his foot in them, allowing Harry to assist him up to the entrance. The hole was even smaller than the entrance to the passageway to Honeydukes, but there was enough room for a skinny little first-year. Albus disappeared inside quickly, and then let out a yelp.
"You okay?"
"The steps are narrow, be careful when you come through."
"Thanks." Harry hoisted himself up and began wriggling through the hole after him. It was very snug. Anyone bigger than him wouldn't be able to get through.
"Are you all right?" Albus asked from somewhere below him.
"Yeah—just—ghnph." Harry tugged himself free and tumbled down several steps. "Ouch. Don't think I'll be making a habit of using this one."
He scrambled to his feet and lit his wand.
"To the Forest." Albus sounded nervous.
"To the Forest," Harry agreed, trying to keep his own nerves out of his voice. "Come on then."
They had to make their way down the steps single file. They were steep and narrow, and each of them slipped several times, one time Harry knocking them both down about twenty stairs.
"Ouch," Albus said, getting to his feet again.
"Sorry."
"It wasn't your fault. We must be nearly there now, surely?"
His sense of distance and direction was obviously better than Harry's, for soon they reached the end of the staircase and instead followed a level tunnel.
Harry went over the plan in his head. It sounded feasible. Sort of. But he was wracked with nerves. There were any number of ways in which it could go wrong. What if Albus was wrong and he could change the future? What if he screwed things up? What would happen to Albus?
"I think we must be almost there," Albus said, interrupting his anxieties.
"Why? You can tell how far we've walked?"
"No; I can feel a draft."
Oh. Now he felt like an idiot. It was a sensation that, being friends with a genius, he was quickly getting used to.
After a minute or two the tunnel ended with another set of steps, these ones ascending. Although Harry couldn't see the exit, he could feel the nippy night air.
"I'd better check what's up there," he said.
"I can check," Albus offered. "I'm in front anyway."
"No, I'd rather do it. I'm more familiar with creatures in the Forest than you; I'll know better what signs to look for."
In truth, Harry thought that if there was an Acromantula or something equally carnivorous waiting for them, then Albus probably stood a better chance of fighting it off than he did—but he had no intention of risking Albus Dumbledore being eaten. Besides the fact that he was extremely fond of the kid—what would happen to the future?
He overtook Albus in the tunnel, which considering the narrow width was rather tricky, and climbed the staircase. After a couple of minutes he bumped his head on what felt like a tree root. Harry reached up hesitantly and fumbled through the mess of roots for a way out, finally coming across a gap about the size of the entrance.
He couldn't hear anything ominous, so reached through the gap, grasped a handful of tree root and pulled himself out. Once he was on his feet, he lit his wand and looked quickly around.
They were in a part of the Forest he hadn't been before, but he knew from the Map that it was near the Thestral's clearing. It wasn't too dense here, and the tunnel exit was basically invisible unless you were looking for it.
"Okay, coast's clear," he called down into the tunnel.
When Albus' face appeared, Harry reached out a hand and gave him an assist climbing out. "Thanks, Harry."
"You're welcome." Harry did the Point Me spell to make sure he had his bearings correct. "This way to the Thestrals."
"Can … can you see Thestrals?" Albus asked nervously as they set out, trying to make as little noise as possible. Harry nodded. "Oh, good. I-I mean—not good, I just—"
"I know what you mean, don't worry," Harry said with a small smile. "And think yourself lucky you can't."
"I know. I do, I mean."
They fell into silence. Harry kept doing Point Me to ensure that they were heading in the right direction. His mind wasn't entirely on it, though. Something had occurred to him—one that he was sure Albus couldn't have missed, but hadn't brought up. He had told Harry that Ottmar Bourdon was his only living relative. Yet if they were successful, Mr Bourdon was going to be on his way to Azkaban (and rightly deserved)—so what would happen to Albus?
An idea came to Harry, which at first he shrugged off as ridiculous. But then it came back, and he considered it properly.
Well, why not?
Harry glanced sideways at Albus. As terrified as Harry knew he was, there was a look of grim determination on his young face visible even in the dim wandlight. Harry wondered if he had looked like that when he had gone after the Philosopher's Stone. He almost grinned. Albus was so like him sometimes; it was unnerving.
He stopped suddenly when he saw movement up ahead, and grabbed Albus' shoulder with his left hand whilst raising his wand higher. The branches of a tree rustled, and then parted, and Harry relaxed.
"Is that one?" Albus asked nervously.
"Yeah," Harry said, letting go of him and holding out a hand to the curious Thestral. It wandered closer and sniffed it before letting Harry stroke its nose. Then it snorted, and Albus jumped out of his skin with a yelp.
"Sorry," Harry said to the Thestral, "I don't have any raw meat for you." It snorted again. "But my friend and I could do with a ride to London?"
In reply, the Thestral bent slightly. Harry helped a trembling Albus on board and then climbed on behind him.
"The Ministry of Magic, visitor's entrance, please," Harry said.
He couldn't see Albus' face as their steed broke into a run and then took off, but he could imagine it.
Albus was nodding off on the Thestral by the time they reached London, and Harry was coming close himself—quite an achievement considering how the cold wind whipped their faces. When they began losing height, he gently squeezed Albus' shoulder to rouse him. "We're here."
London looked very different now they were low enough to get a proper view. For the first time since Harry had arrived in 1856, he really grasped that he was in the Victorian Age. It wasn't something immediately obvious in the wizarding world, as traditional and distant from the Muggle world as it always was. But now he looked into the dark, silent, cobbled streets, it was like a slap in the face.
They dismounted with wobbly legs in a grimy back alley. Harry, who was far from knowledgeable about London even in his own time, had absolutely no way of knowing whether they were in the same place the future visitor's entrance would be. For all he knew they could be in completely the wrong part of London, or even in a different city altogether.
"Is this is?" he asked Albus before the Thestral took off again.
Albus nodded, and approached a wall. It was completely blank. He reached into his pocket, picked out a Knut and flicked it at the brick in the dead centre.
Words flashed upon the bricks. Please state your name and purpose for your visit.
"Albus Bourdon and Harry Potter," he said. "We're here to … er …"
"Save the world," Harry said.
Thank you. Visitors, please take the pins and attach to the front of your robes.
A tray disguised as a brick slid out, revealing a couple of metal pins which, under their names, read Delusional Terrorist.
There was a great rumbling, and Albus pocketed his Knut again as a doorway-sized portion of the wall slid to one side, revealing yet another set of steps.
"At least it's better lit than the last lot," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood. Albus gave a weak smile.
They made their way down the steps. Harry's heart was hammering in his chest. The stairs came out in the Atrium, which was completely identical to the future version—before it had been destroyed in the battle, that was.
Everything was a quiet as they had been when Harry had arrived that night. Trying very hard not to think of it, he led the way to the lift and pressed the button.
It was then everything went wrong.
The lift arrived and the doors opened. Harry and Albus both jumped as they saw three people inside; two men and a woman.
"Who are you?" the woman said sharply. Her arms were folded and she wore a stern expression. Judging from her style of robes, she was someone very important.
"Um …" Harry stammered. In all their planning, neither of them had been able to come up with a plausible excuse for them to be in the Ministry of Magic in the middle of the night.
The men stepped out of the lift and each grasped one of their arms preventing any escape. The woman followed.
"What are you doing here, and at this time of night?" She frowned deeper. "You must be Hogwarts students?"
Neither said anything.
"Being difficult, I see. We'll see what you have to say for yourself when I call your Headmistress."
TBC …
