Harry's legs and arms felt numb from gripping the thestral for hours. Thestral, who had been named Comet by Harry during the long, endless flight. When the city lights multiplied like an ocean of stars under them, Harry realized they had arrived in London. His throat and lips were dry from the rush of cold night air, and the simple act of swallowing his saliva was a painful ordeal—It was therefore a relief to descend at last. Harry gripped Comet's neck with all his strength as the creature pointed down, and as soon as they landed on the dark street, he dismounted immediately. Touching the floor, being able to stretch his limbs—everything felt like a well-deserved reward. Harry gave Comet a gentle pat and headed to the familiar, battered telephone box standing against the wall. The sun hadn't risen yet, and even though he had no idea what time it was, there were great chances the ministry would be mostly empty.

Harry took a deep breath,

He's not dead, I would know if he was.

and opened the door to slip inside.

He's not dead.

Like on the day of his trial with Arthur Weasley, a receiver that looked perfectly like a muggle phone, was hanging in the telephone box. Harry dialed six, four, four, two.

He's alive, he will be okay.

When the dial whirred back into place, a female voice sounded inside the box:

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter."

Harry paused, unsure how to formulate his business in the ministry.

"Er— I'm here to save someone." He said, "Unless your ministry can do it first."

To his greatest surprise, it worked. A badge slid out the metal chute, and as soon as Harry scooped it up, the voice added;

"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

Harry glanced quickly at the thestral, who was digging headfirst into a trash can, before asking impatiently,

"Fine. Can we move now?"

The floor of the telephone box shuddered, and the pavement rose up past the glass windows. He was moving down, and as his scar gave another throb, he understood how reckless and dangerous his decision to come here alone was.

(***)

It was cold, freezing on this rough stone dais. Draco couldn't tell where he was, or where Voldemort was hiding. It seems like he was alone in the middle of this strange, dimly lit room, where a tall archway stood in the middle, and yet Draco didn't dare to move, as if a single blink would cause Voldemort to reappear and kill him. The trickle of blood rolling on his forehead was warm; he couldn't particularly feel any pain, but exhaustion was taking over his body, making it hard to keep his eyes open and stay on guard.

After Voldemort made him physically pay for his treachery, he was taken directly to this dark and unknown place. He didn't remember anything; when he woke up, he was lying there, alone and wounded. He didn't know where his mother was or if she was still alive.

She is alive.

She couldn't be dead; she couldn't.

When Draco understood he was bait to capture Harry, he began to pray he wouldn't come, whispering endlessly in the futile hope that his friend could hear him. Yet he knew very well that it was impossible and that his prayers were in vain, but what else could he do?

Harry hates me; he won't come. He tried to reassure himself.

In that moment, when he knew he was Voldemort's main hope of capturing Harry, Draco felt relieved that they had parted on bad terms. However, another part of him knew how Harry tended to act—him and his savior complex.

Please don't come, don't come, don't come...

Draco used all his strength to push himself up into a sitting position. Trembling and nauseous, he finally took the time to look around him. The room was rectangular; everything was gray, motionless, and rigid. The dais he was on was high up, accessible by wide, deep stone steps. Turning slowly, Draco took a longer look at the arch behind him. It seemed old; the stones that held it together were cracked and worn, making the structure all the more strange.

He glanced at the strange veil in its center; it looked like a black curtain, gently fluttering and swaying as though it had just been touched. Chills crossed his skin as feeble sounds emanated from the veil, like whispers begging him to cross the archway and join them.

Draco took a deep, shaky breath and forced himself to look away. He was struggling to get used to the darkness around him; maybe it was due to his head injury or his fatigue, but everything looked black and blurry.

Steps.

He turned his head faster than he should have, his stomach clenching violently, giving him a sudden urge to vomit. For a moment, he naively believed the footsteps were coming from Harry, and the conflicting feelings between relief, hope, and fear washed over him. But squinting, Draco finally made out who was walking across the room; Bellatrix.

His aunt had her big black eyes fixed on him—half demented just like the sadistic smile on her lips— She was frightening, sometimes more than Voldemort.

In this endless and agonizing wait, time seemed to have stopped, or even no longer existed. Only the haunting sound of Bellatrix's footsteps echoed in the windowless room, where the cold air chilled Draco's blood. Every second was torture, where the fear of seeing Harry arrive mingled with the fear of being executed.

One two three four,

Counting his aunt's steps became the only occupation that kept him conscious and alert. She kept walking, as if to show her impatience. Maybe she too would be executed if Harry didn't show up? Or maybe she was so admiring of her master that she took everything too much to heart. Draco leaned toward the second option. Killing his father was already a costly decision for Voldemort; he had just sacrificed one of his most powerful and influential followers; he couldn't afford to part with another, and surely not Bellatrix.

Suddenly, a strange noise rang out from outside the room; and when Bellatrix stopped walking to look in the same direction, Draco realized that the noise wasn't coming from her. His heart raced; he gripped the floor with his fingers so tight he twisted them; and completely ignoring the pain, he fixed his eyes on the door. Bellatrix glanced at him furtively.

Then everything happened very quickly. As Draco slowly backed away using his weakened arms and legs, his aunt pointed her wand at him and cried out; "incarcerous!"

Thick ropes emerged from her wand and bound Draco, who fell violently on his back. A sharp pain shot to the back of his head and quickly spread all around his skull, especially over his wound. This time he felt like he was really going to throw up, but he couldn't move; his hands and legs were now tied tightly. He closed his eyes and breathed as deeply as he could to calm himself down and not vomit.

"Rodolphus, Crabbe, Mulciber, keep an eye on him."

Draco had not even realized three Death Eaters stood at the other end of the room behind him; they had remained utterly still and quiet for all this time, certainly waiting for Voldemort's or Bellatrix's orders.

Draco heard his aunt's footsteps again, but this time they moved away from him until he heard nothing but his own breathing. She was gone, probably towards the source of the noise behind the door.

Draco expected the three men to approach him, but no footsteps echoed in the room. They couldn't find the point of moving from their spot, as the young boy was utterly helpless and immobilized, his blood slowly spreading between the lines of his face, sliding down his hair into his ear. He slowly opened his eyes. The ceiling seemed to have no end; it was a huge, dark void that made him feel like he was swallowing it whole. He then wondered who Bellatrix had gone to see—could it be Harry?

No—impossible.

Draco focused on the dark void above him, breathing slowly and deeply as his nausea throbbed constantly.

Don't come, don't come, don't come…

(***)

Although he had suspected it, Harry was relieved to find that the atrium was empty. However, the total absence of a security guard was a very clear sign of the danger that awaited him. It was not normal; everything seemed too simple. He accessed the department of mysteries exactly as in his dreams, without any pitfalls or difficulties.

The black door that had haunted his dreams for the past few months stood before him, so close, so easy to access...

Come on...it's time.

The door opened without any safety, lock, or test. He found himself in a circular room completely plunged into darkness, with several identical, handle-less black doors set all around the walls. Harry clutched his wand tightly; there was no way to know which door would lead him to Draco or in what kind of danger he would end up if he entered the wrong room. When he closed the door he had just come from, the candles hung on the walls between the doors started moving sideways, dizzying Harry as the blue flames turned around him like a blurry stream of light. The walls were rotating.

Fuck.

It was just a matter of luck now. Harry closed his eyes and focused, as if his instinct could guide him to the right room.

I'll take the door facing me.

However, as soon as he reopened his eyes, the rumbling stopped, and the walls became stationary once again.

"That's not helping," he muttered to himself.

As he had no way to know, he opted to follow his first intuition and walked toward the door in front of him. But when he opened it, the room he ended up in was in no way similar to the one he had dreamed about.

"It's okay, next one—"

As much as he was trying to reassure himself, he had never felt so anxious in his life. If only he had someone accompanying him, helping him make decisions, or simply reassuring him,

He walked towards the second door, but as he put his hand on the door to push it, his body stopped short. A powerful intuition seized him, preventing him from continuing in this direction, as if his brain had decided to follow the orders of an external being.

"It's not that one."

He was sure about it, and he didn't know why. He turned his head slowly towards the door to his right, which was quite similar to the one in front of him, and yet his instincts told him it was the right one. Without really understanding why, Harry lowered his arm and headed for this specific door, then opened it.

He found himself in a vast room where endless alleys of shelves stood in front of him.

I did it—

He was in the right room; he could see the numerous glass orbs filling the shelves, with the yellowing labels beneath each of them, just like in his dreams. He started walking in an alley, his eyes glued on the labels; he had to reach number ninety-seven, where he should find Draco. He was so close, and yet the room was utterly quiet.

He could be unconscious… or dea…

No.

Harry shook his head, and after taking a shuddering breath, he hurried between the shelves. Ninety-two, ninety-three, ninety-four…

No matter how hard he listened, concentrating on any sign of presence—even a single breath, there was nothing. Nothing at all.

Ninety-seven.

He stood at the end of the row, staring where Draco should have been. In complete denial, Harry walked forward to see better.

He should be here—right there.

His throat was dry, and each step he took made him realize the trap he had just fallen into. Draco wasn't there; Snape had warned him; dreams were not reality.

He reached the end of the row, where nothing but darkness surrounded him.

It was impossible; Draco had to be here; he knew it and was certain of it.

Harry peered down around him in a desperate attempt to find his friend somewhere else; maybe he was in another room? Or had he crawled to another aisle?

He started running up the space at the end of the rows; he had to check every single aisle. He would not leave without making sure Draco was safe.

Nothing. Only him.

He turned around and came back to the aisle from his dream, where glass spheres glowed with a dim light. As he checked the number of the aisle again to be sure he hadn't made a mistake, his eyes eventually fell on a small, dusty glass ball hose with his name written on a yellowish label.

"Dark lord and (?) Harry Potter"

Why did this small ball have his name on it? Harry quickly checked around him to see if he was still alone and grabbed the sphere recklessly with his left hand. It was strangely warm, perhaps due to the glow of light inside it. Harry took a step back, staring at the ball as if something exciting would happen, like a sound, a brighter light, anything.

However, nothing happened.

Except for a voice coming from behind that made him almost drop it.

"Good, Potter." "Now you can turn around and give it to me."

Harry clutched the sphere tightly and reluctantly obeyed. Three hooded Death Eaters were in the aisle; Nott standing in the middle with his palm up.

"Give it to me." The man repeated.

Harry's heart was hammering in his chest; not only hadn't he found Draco, but now he was trapped.

"Where is Draco?"

The death eaters laughed, clearly mocking his naivete.

"Well, let's say his life is in your hands now; give me the prophecy, and he will live."

A prophecy? Harry gazed down at the small glass ball, unsure of what it meant.

"I'm not giving it to you until I'm sure Draco is alive." The boy said, rising panic in his chest as he started to doubt Draco's presence inside the ministry.

One of the death eaters, whose face was completely concealed behind his hood, slowly shook his head as if he felt deeply annoyed by Harry's behavior.

"Then we'll have to use another way," Nott sighed. "It could have been so much easier."

Harry cautiously recoiled as the Death Eaters aimed their wands toward him. Although they greatly outnumbered him, he was prepared to defend himself with his wand.

"You have no chances against us, Potter." "Just give us the prophecy, and you won't get hurt."

When Harry shook his head a second time, the third death eater at Nott's left roared;

"Accio proph-"

But he had anticipated this attack, he raised his wand and yelled, "Protego!" before the man could finish his spell.

He had to get out of here; now.

"Fine," Nott said, taking a step toward Harry. The boy couldn't recoil anymore, as his back had already hit the shelf behind him. "We won't play anymore then."

"Stop it!" A female voice roared from the other end of the aisle.

Harry stopped breathing; his mind was racing as he was trying to find an escape from this chaos. He had honestly no interest in that dusty sphere, his only concern was Draco. But if he gave the prophecy, they would kill him, and he would not find his friend.

"We need to bring back the prophecy intact, Nott!" Bellatrix said. The man slowly lowered his wand.

It was the first time Harry saw Bellatrix in flesh; she was way scarier than in pictures, with her sunken cheeks and huge dark circles beneath her wide, scary eyes. She reached the three Death Eaters, her gaze on Harry.

"Baby Potter, what a pleasure to meet you." She said, with a wide, maniacal smile. "How fast you've grown! You're a big boy now!"

Harry tried to stay impassive to her mockeries; the sphere squeezed against his chest, and he asked calmly:

"Where is Draco?"

Bellatrix kept a mocking smile on her face.

"Baby Potter is in love?" She asked in a horrible baby voice,

"You want that, right?" Harry showed the sphere, "I can give it to you once I've seen Draco."

She let out a strident scream of laughter, and the other Death Eaters imitated her.

"And what makes you think little Malfoy is here?"

Harry gulped. "If he's not here, I'll smash it."

He had no idea what he was doing; his thoughts were scrambling in his head as his stress became unbearable.

Bellatrix seemed to think for a moment, her dark eyes fixed on the glass ball.

"You would make a big mistake if you did," she warned him, taking a step forward.

Harry raised his arm, his hand holding the sphere, ready to let it go, and his other hand pointing his wand at Bellatrix.

The witch immediately stopped. Her gaze glued to the prophecy, she hesitated for a second.

"We could just take it by force—" a hooded Death Eater muttered behind Bellatrix. But the woman shushed him with her hand.

"Shut it." "I make the decisions."

She looked directly at Harry, her lips clamped together with frustration. Harry was ready; if he had no chance to see Draco alive, he had no interest in giving them this prophecy intact. He slowly lifted his arm holding the sphere in order to smash it violently to the floor when Bellatrix spoke;

"Fine, follow me."

"What?"

Harry had not expected this reaction, and neither did the three men in the room.

"You want to see baby Malfoy? Then follow me. It's your only chance before I take the prophecy by force."

At this point, Harry had no idea what to believe or what to do. All he knew was that death was near, waiting for him, ready to strike at any moment. If following Bellatrix to an unknown place was his only solution, he felt like he had to seize this last opportunity, as reckless as it felt.

"Ok, I'll follow you."

(***)

Draco had been struggling against the bonds that had been slashing his hands and feet for several minutes now. He no longer felt his blood circulating in his limbs, and his head was heavy, painful.

"Stop fidgeting, or I'll make sure you'll never move again!" A voice threatened him from behind.

Draco stiffened and gave up on his attempt, feeling that he was just wearing himself out unnecessarily anyway.

I'm going to die—

He tried to think about positive memories—anything that would prevent him from crying in this gloomy room. He thought of his mother, but she was now locked in their manor, surely waiting for her death just like him. He tried to think about Hogwarts and his friends, but they were all his enemies now that he had betrayed the Dark Lord. He tried to think of Harry.

But Harry hated him. His death wouldn't mean much to him.

Tears formed in his eyes. Draco exhaled a shaky breath, finally letting the water drops roll down his temple and join the blood of his injury.

Not able to concentrate on any happy memories, he started thinking about his death. He hoped it wouldn't be at the hands of Bellatrix or Greyback, both of whom were too eager to torture their victims. So he hoped he would die at the hands of Voldemort, quickly and without much pain. It felt strange to imagine the way he would be executed, but as it seemed to be his only destiny, he'd rather pray for a painless one.

Footsteps approached the room; Draco immediately recognized Bellatrix's; he was so used to her stressful gait. But she was not alone; at least four or five people seemed to accompany her. His heart started pounding again; he remained completely still as if it might help him become invisible, then ended up closing his eyes when the group entered the room, preferring not to witness what awaited him.

While he was expecting to receive a spell, or a threat, a voice quite different from his aunt's rang out in his ears;

"Draco!"

(***)

"Macnair, Rockwood, Nott, stay behind Potter; don't let him escape." Bellatrix ordered before she led the way between the long aisles.

Harry took a shaky breath, feeling like he was making a huge mistake, and followed her. They were heading to the door in complete silence, their loud steps on the tiles echoing throughout the wide room.

"What is that prophecy anyway?" Harry dared to ask as his curiosity took over.

"What is that prophecy?" Bellatrix repeated, still walking before him, "You jest, Potter."

"No- I'm not. Why does Voldemort want it?"

He has said the wrong thing. Bellatrix briskly stopped, causing Harry to nearly bump into her, and she turned to face him.

"How dare you pronounce his name with your filthy, half-blood mouth!"

Her wand pointed at Harry's head, and she added; "You don't seem to care much for your little friend; you say one more word, and I kill him right in front of your stupid face."

Harry stayed quiet and nodded. She wasn't joking; her grin had disappeared from her white face, instead showing threatening rotten teeth. When she made sure Harry would not respond, she resumed her walk in silence.

He followed her like this for a few minutes, which to Harry seemed endless, before they finally arrived in a large, strange room, grayish and strangely cold. Harry looked around the room in the desperate hope of finding Draco there, and when he saw him lying on what appeared to be a stone dais, Harry's heart stopped.

Was he dead?

"Draco!" He shouted as loud as he could, taking a step forward before Bellatrix stopped him with her wand.

Draco's body stirred slightly, to Harry's greatest relief. After focusing on him for a few more seconds, he understood Draco was tied up, making him unable to straighten up.

"Harry—?"

His voice was weak, barely audible.

"Let me go!" Harry said when Bellatrix took a step sideways and blocked him.

Harry briefly glanced around, only to realize several new Death Eaters were approaching Draco, their wands ready to attack him.

"Give me the prophecy now, or they kill him." She ordered,

"Harry don't…"

Harry tried to ignore Draco's faint voice. There were too many death eaters in the room, pointing their weapons at both of them. There was no choice; it was the prophecy or their lives. He slowly held out the sphere, still hot from the heat of his clutching hand. Bellatrix took a step forward, and as she grabbed the sphere fiercely, her excitement showed on her face in the form of a wicked smile. She would make her master proud—the biggest accomplishment in her life.

Harry's attention turned toward Draco behind her; the boy was staring at him, his head lifted awkwardly, half of it covered in blood. Harry was about to run toward his friend when, all of a sudden, two doors burst open above them, and five members of the order sprinted into the room.

Harry backed away, watching with shocked eyes as his godfather hurtled toward him and Bellatrix, while Lupin, Tonks, Moody, and Kingsley started to fight, casting stunning spells after stunning spells at the surprised Death Eaters.

As soon as Sirius stopped in front of the woman, he punched her with full strength, making her stumble on the floor. The prophecy slipped from her hands when her body reached the ground and exploded in numerous small pieces.

"Nooo!" She shrieked with great despair.

Sirius didn't seem to notice he had smashed the prophecy; all his attention was on his godson, whom he grabbed by the shoulders and pushed away from the witch.

"Harry, hide!" Sirius shouted at him before Bellatrix stood up, vivid rage in her eyes.

But Harry had no intention to hide. He slipped nimbly between the battling adults, climbed the stone steps, and sprinted toward Draco, who had just been released from his binds by Kingsley.

"Draco, are you okay?" He asked as soon as he kneeled beside him, grabbing his shoulders with both hands.

Draco seemed exhausted; his eyes struggled to stay focused on Harry, and as he staggered to his feet, his legs nearly collapsed.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked weakly, his hand clutching Harry's arm.

"You really thought I wouldn't try to save you—?"

Draco was about to reply when Kingsley came back to them after knocking out a Death Eater.

"You two, you need to hide! Now!"

Harry finally obeyed; his friend was hurt and didn't seem to have his wand. He helped Draco walk by putting his arm around his back, and the two young men climbed down the dais. Everything that was happening around them was a mixture of chaos that seemed to be happening both in slow motion and at full speed. Spells hit the walls, the floor, and men in a cacophony of deafening noises.

"Hold on, you'll be okay." Harry tried to reassure Draco, knowing that his friend had never experienced this kind of stressful battle before.

Draco didn't answer, his hand gripping Harry's shirt like it was his only way to stay conscious. Harry set him down as far as possible from the jets of light that emanated from the various wands and quickly checked his wound.

"You bleed a lot; did he do this to you?" He asked, taking Draco's face in his hands, to see better.

The younger man nodded slightly, his frowning eyes fixed on Harry's.

"You shouldn't have come; it's you he wants."

"I know." Harry answered flatly.

He was about to cast a spell at his forehead to stop the bleeding, when the Draco's eyes widened, and before the blonde boy could say anything, Harry felt a strong arm size him around the neck from behind and pull him upright.

"You, you come with me." Rockwood snarled.

The death eater was pressing his windpipe so tightly he couldn't breathe anymore. Unable to pronounce any spell, Harry started flailing his legs to kick the man's shins, but it didn't work.

"Let him go!"

Draco was trying to hit him with his weak hands. Through his watery eyes, Harry could see him panicking and looking around for help. Harry tried to give him his wand, but Rockwood backed away from Draco, leaving the boy helpless on his knees.

"Take him to the atrium! Now!" Harry heard Bellatrix yell at McNair.

His heart was racing; nobody had seemed to notice he was being dragged away except Draco, who was too weak to defend him. But when he thought it was over for him, a flash of red light hit right next to his ear, and a second later, the arm strangling him released its grip, causing Harry to fall violently on the floor. He didn't even look behind him to see whether McNair was unconscious; he brought his hand to his neck and massaged it, coughing several times to catch his breath.

"Harry, are you alright?"

Sirius kneeled in front of him; he had been the one saving him from McNair. Harry acquiesced quickly, not wanting to worry his godfather, and got back to his feet.

It was as if time had stopped. Sirius stood in front of him, checking if his godson had no injuries and completely ignoring what was occurring around them. When Harry averted his eyes from him for a split second, he saw a jet of green light emerging from Bellatrix's wand, her face contorting with madness and rage. Harry had never thought he would be able to react so quickly. He pulled Sirius behind him as he raised his wand and yelled, "Protego!" right before the killing curse hit them. The green light crashed into the shield charm before vanishing like it had appeared.

"Nice one, Harry—" Sirius exclaimed behind him,

Harry turned to look at him for just a few seconds, long enough to see his shocked expression turn into a proud smile, when Draco's voice echoed in the room. He was screaming Harry's name.

It had only taken a few seconds for Bellatrix to change targets and seize Draco. She grabbed him by his bloodstained shirt, then by his hair. Her wand in her other hand was pointing at the young man's neck, holding him hostage.

"Draco!"

She then began to recoil, taking Draco with her.

The Death Eaters still standing continued to fight fiercely against the Aurors, preventing them from focusing on the two young teenagers, and as Bellatrix disappeared through one of the doors, only Sirius tried to hold Harry back.

"Don't go, Harry!"

"She has Draco! I can't let her take him!" Harry argued, trying to release himself from his godfather's grip. The man was holding his arm tightly in an attempt to keep him there.

A flash of light hit a death eater Tonks was fighting in front of them, and the man collapsed on the floor like an old rag. Harry glanced at the source of the light, and his eye widened in shock. Albus Dumbledore had arrived in the room, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. His arrival made the death eaters panic; half of them tried to flee, stopping their battle against the aurors to run away as fast as they could, but only to be overpowered by the strong wizard. Harry noticed Sirius had slightly slackened his grip, allowing him to rip his arm from him and run toward the door where Bellatrix had taken Draco.

"Harry, no!"

He ignored the calls and dashed to the exit, scrambling up the stone benches and sliding between people.

He was back in the dark, circular room with the rotating doors. Once again, he was surrounded by streaks of blurry light from the whirling candelabra.

"Where is she? Where is the exit?" Harry asked desperately as the wall rumbled to a halt.

The room seemed to have been waiting for this question. The door right behind him flew open, and a long, dark corridor stretched ahead of him. Harry didn't hesitate; he sprinted up the passageway and ended up in the atrium, where giant statues stood as well as Fudge's gigantic portrait banner. Harry stopped running as soon as he saw Bellatrix in the middle of the room, still holding Draco in front of her.

"Let him go…" Harry implored, even though he knew how useless it was. "It's me that you need, not him."

She didn't smile like she usually did when someone submitted to her. On the contrary, her face looked furious, with a hint of fear in her eyes.

"We needed the prophecy." She hissed, pulling Draco's hair harder. The boy grimaced with pain, his shaky legs on the verge of giving up.

"You know it's gone; you smashed it yourself." Harry replied, right before pain seared across his forehead. It burned as if his scar was on fire.

Draco looked at him with concern, knowing full well that this kind of pain was never a good sign.

Harry tried to calm down, closing his eyes and breathing deeply,

"Voldemort knows it's gone; he won't be very happy to know you failed."

His scar was now hurting so badly he felt like his skull might burst.

"I-I didn't do it!" She protested, as if it mattered to Harry. "It was your stupid godfather! No me! Please master, I promise!"

Harry understood she was begging Voldemort, even though he was not there to hear her...

"Silence."

A high, cold voice made Harry open his eyes. He was standing in front of him, tall, thin, and black-hooded, with his frightening snakelike face. He hadn't changed since the graveyard, still pale, gaunt, looking like death itself.

Bellatrix had released Draco, who was now almost lying down on the floor, holding on to the strength of his weak arms. Voldemort was completely ignoring her and the young boy; too busy staring at his greatest enemy.

"We're finally meeting again." Voldemort spoke; his wand pointed at Harry, who stood frozen in the middle of the atrium.

"The prophecy is gone; I can see it through your worthless mind."

Harry stayed quiet; he was torn between looking at Draco or Voldemort.

"Master, I promise it wasn't me; it was Black!" Bellatrix repeated from behind her master, gripping his robes as she flung herself down at his feet.

He pulled his long black robe from her grip, visibly impassive at her explanations. Draco had been right; Voldemort couldn't afford to kill her, no matter what mistake she made.

"Be quiet, Bella. I don't care about your sniveling apologies."

Voldemort then turned to Draco, who was still on the floor a little further away.

"I see my trap worked. Despite your treachery, you still proved to be useful."

"Don't hurt him!" Harry screamed, regaining enough adrenaline to walk towards Voldemort.

Voldemort smiled slightly, before aiming his wand back at Harry.

"No…" Draco begged.

"Tom."

The familiar voice of Albus Dumbledore echoed in the long room, causing everyone to turn their attention to him. The old man was standing in front of the golden gates.

Harry quickly looked back at Voldemort who stood right in front of him, in case he would attack him or Draco; but he was staring at Dumbledore, his pale face contracted into a sudden rage mixed with frustration. His plan had not worked, neither for the prophecy, nor for Harry. He raised his wand and sent a jet of green light at the wizard, who disappeared suddenly. The killing curse hit the gates, and a second later, Dumbledore reappeared behind Voldemort. He waved his wand toward the statues, making them spring to life.

One of them, a headless golden statue, placed itself between Harry and Voldemort, while another statue of a witch stood above Draco, protecting him from any attack by Bellatrix.

"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom." Said Dumbledore, calmly. "Aurors are on their way."

"And I will be gone, and you will be dead." Snaped Voldemort.

He sent a new killing curse, which Dumbledore blocked with his wand.

It made Voldemort even angrier. Dumbledore gave a slight nod of his head, and the headless statue grabbed Harry's arms to push him next to Draco, where the witch was still standing like a shield.

"You okay?" Draco asked him as soon as Harry kneeled beside him.

"Yes." He whispered, even though his heart was pounding loudly.

Harry tried to look at Dumbledore, trying to know what was happening between the two men, but the statues were blocking most of his field of vision.

He still managed to see new statues running towards Voldemort and Bellatrix, and when the witch let out a cry, Harry understood she had just been brought to the ground. Voldemort seemed beside himself; he threw many green jets of light at Dumbledore, but the shield that the old man conjured prevented any spell from reaching him.

"Harry, I'm sorry…" Draco said suddenly, when both understood they could not do much to help Dumbledore.

Harry averted his eyes from the small gap between the statues and looked at Draco. He hadn't realized how tired he looked until now, when they were so close to each other. His bleeding seemed to have stopped, but only because it was starting to clot. It didn't look good.

"I'm the one who should apologize, Draco."

Draco shook his head, but Harry cut him off before he could say anything.

"What happened exactly? Is your father…"

A bright light erupted behind the statues, interrupting the two boys. Harry rose to his feet; he needed to see what was occurring, and most of all, he needed to help. The headless wizard tried to shunt him down with his heavy stone hands, but the teenager dodged it. He felt Draco's hand grabbing his wrist,

"Harry don't! It's dangerous"

"I need to do something!"

The flames vanished, making the room fall back into darkness. Both Harry and Draco glanced between the statues and spotted a huge snake, then nothing. Voldemort had disappeared.

Draco opened his mouth in shock. He staggered to his feet, this time not restrained by the giant stone witch. Bellatrix shrieked as she realized her master was gone without her, and kept fidgeting like a toddler under the centaur's hoof.

"Is—is he gone?" Draco asked, not louder than a whisper.

Harry shook his head; it seemed strange. He took a step forward to join Dumbledore when the headmaster raised his arm toward him.

"Stay where you are!" "Both of you." He said, as Draco staggered next to Harry.

For the first time, Dumbledore sounded frightened. Harry glanced at Draco with furrowed eyes; he couldn't see why they had to stay here when the hall was empty and safe again.

And then his scar burst open like it had never done before. Harry felt like he was dead; no other pain could equal what he was enduring at that moment.

His soul had left his body, as if he were gone from the hall as well. He was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, trapped in his own body, with every muscle controlled by the creature in inconceivable pain.

Harry felt his jaw opening, and his voice echoed in the hall without being able to control it.

"Kill me, Dumbledore." The creature spoke through Harry.

Blinded and dying, every part of Harry was screaming for release.

"Come on, it's your chance to end me; isn't it what you wanted?"

Dumbledore stayed completely still, frozen in shock, in front of his agonizing pupil.

Harry felt his body being turned; it was the most unbearable pain, as if his turning neck was about to be ripped out of his shoulders. His eyes locked with Draco's; the boy looked as terrified as Dumbledore, if not more; and Harry felt his mouth being used again;

"Kill me, Draco. I killed your father; I made my snake eat his corpse."

Draco had become even paler; he looked like he could faint any second.

"I will torture and kill your mother and you. You should kill me, now."

"Draco—" Dumbledore uttered quietly.

Harry was fighting to regain control of his body, and for a fleeting moment, he saw the tears in Draco's eyes—his fear. Harry wanted to hug him tightly and tell him it would be okay, if only he could move—

There were sounds coming from both ends of the atrium. Harry heard Sirius' voice calling him with worries; he seemed so far away; and even though death felt worth it compared to the pain he was enduring, Harry's desire to see his godfather was taking over; he wanted to live with him, have long conversations that would keep them awake all summer nights; he wanted to see him happy, free, making up for lost time... And he wanted to see Hermione, Ron, tell them he was sorry, tell them he loved them—

As Harry's heart filled with emotions, his body broke free from the creature's coils, falling loudly on the cold floor. The pain was gone; the torture was finally over. Draco rushed to his sides, grabbing him in a powerful embrace, Harry's trembling limbs squeezed in his arms.

"Harry, it's okay."

There was a loud commotion all around them, Harry couldn't focus on any of the voices. He soon realized his glasses were gone, certainly falling to the floor when he collapsed. He briefly tried to find them by groping the floor around him, but quickly gave up as his exhaustion was making every move difficult. He let himself relax in Draco's arms and closed his eyes, his breathing gradually slowing down. It seemed like men had arrived in the atrium, yelling something Harry didn't understand.

Then, as he finally thought it was over and they were safe, a brisk wind floated through the hall, quick and violent. Harry lifted his shaky head, while Draco slightly loosed his grip and helped him slip his glasses back on his nose.

As the room became clear again, Harry managed to make out the people gathering around them. The minister was standing under the half-burned banner of his own portrait, surrounded by at least five of his employees and several aurors. They were all staring at the alien shape forming in the room, with Fudge gaping with his eyes wide open.

The shape first exploded the centaur into pieces, making Bellatrix able to straighten up. As everyone stared at her for a second, their wands raised to attack, she crawled to the fireplace behind her and jumped into bright, green flames before disappearing. When the hazy shape flew toward Harry, Sirius panicked and dashed toward his godson. Before Harry had a chance to react, hands—long and strong—grabbed him and Draco violently from behind.

"No!"

Harry's heart stopped beating. Everything happened in a split second: Sirius' hand was only inches away from him, and Dumbledore shot a blast of light towards Voldemort in hopes of stopping him, but it was too late. The room started spinning before his eyes. He felt a knot in his stomach, as if his organs were contracting violently and his body was losing its sense of gravity.

Harry tried to push Draco away to save him, but the atrium and everyone in front of them quickly disappeared, replaced by a thick whirlwind and then absolute darkness.

"No ! Harry !"

Sirius stumbled where his godson had been a second earlier and collapsed on all fours on the floor.

"Harry—"

"He—he was there! Mr. Fudge! I saw him, you-know-you!" Shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail.

The minister didn't answer, he was staring at Sirius, gasping loudly as if he were facing a werewolf on a full moon night.

"You— Sirius Black!"

Sirius didn't react, his fingers were clinging to the tiled floor as if Harry would rematerialize.

"Cornelius." Dumbledore said in an impatient tone, "We have two young students in a life-threatening situation right now; I think it should be your main concern."

Fudge opened his mouth like a fish out of water, his head shaking from right to left, then stammered;

"It doesn't mean I can let a murderer remain at large! And you too, why are you— here— I—" he glanced wildly at the Aurors behind him and shouted, "Seize them!"

"I'm afraid I won't let you arrest innocents anymore, minister."

Dumbledore placed himself in front of Sirius, who was still on the floor, as if he didn't care what would happen next for him.

"Sirius Black has always been innocent; he was wrongly accused and was the victim of an unfair sentence." Dumbledore declared. "And I reckon you witnessed with your own eyes Lord Voldemort's return, just like everyone in this room, so you should admit Harry Potter and I have been telling the truth for a year."

They heard the sounds of steps running toward the room. Lupin arrived, his wand clutched in his hand, and he looked surprised to see so many people— except Harry.

"We managed to contain all the Death Eaters; Kingsley, Moody, and Tonks are surveilling them; we're waiting for your decision." He said to Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Remus. We will let the minister take care of this matter." Dumbledore turned back to Fudge, whose eyes were wide open once again.

"Send your men to the department of mysteries; they should be way more useful there than trying to arrest me or Sirius Black."

"I—I won't let Sirius Black run away, Albus." Fudge shouted.

Dumbledore ignored the man's threat and spoke to Remus, who was looking at his friend on the floor with concern.

"Remus, gather as many aurors as you can, and tell them Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have been kidnapped by Voldemort himself. We need to find them immediately, it's a matter of life or death."

"What—?" Lupin exclaimed, averting his eyes from Sirius, "What do you mean kidnapped?"

"Voldemort took them and vanished, with Bellatrix Lestrange."

Dumbledore approached him and lowered his voice so the minister wouldn't hear. "Please make sure all the members of the order know, including Miverna and Severus. Especially Severus—"

Lupin nodded, still in shock at this frightening information, before he darted back toward the department of mysteries to warn the others.

Dumbledore then turned once again toward Fudge, who kept glaring at Sirius, his aurors behind him pointing their wands at him.

"As soon as we find Harry and Draco, and make sure both are safe and sound, I'll demand a real trial for Sirius Black. But for now, I'm afraid I'll have to prevent you from arresting him."

"How—"

"The minister made enough mistakes this year, I believe; don't make me fight your men. Not now, and not for this. We'll be back for the trial Sirius should have had fourteen years ago, I promise."

Sirius slowly got up, finally coming to his senses, even though vivid wrath emanated from him.

Dumbledore gently laid a hand on his shoulder and said;

"Come on, Sirius. We need to hurry."