The Department of Mysteries

Disclaimer: I'm not Rowling.

They were flying over the Hogwarts grounds, they had passed Hogsmeade; Kitty could see mountains and gullies below them. As the daylight began to fail, Kitty saw small collections of lights as they passed over more villages, then a winding road on which a single car was beetling its way home through the hills ...

On they flew through the gathering darkness; Kitty's face felt stiff and cold, her legs numb from gripping the Thestral's sides so tightly, but she did not dare shift her position lest she slip...

And now bright orange lights were growing larger and rounder on all sides; they could see the tops of buildings, streams of headlights like luminous insect eyes, squares of pale yellow that were windows. Quite suddenly, it seemed, they were hurtling towards the pavement; Kitty gripped the Thestral with every last ounce of her strength, braced for a sudden impact, but the horse touched the dark ground as lightly as a shadow and Kitty slid from its back, looking around.

Ron landed a short way off and toppled immediately from his Thestral on to the pavement. Harry and Vandyll too had fallen down on the ground, and were getting to their feet.

Hermione and Ginny touched down on either side of her: both slid off their mounts a little more gracefully than Ron, though with similar expressions of relief at being back on firm ground; Neville jumped down, shaking; and Luna dismounted smoothly.

Harry made his way towards a battered telephone booth. The others followed him. Once they had all squashed in somehow, Harry dialed a numberand a cool female voice sounded from the telephone.

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

'Harry Potter, Katherine Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger,' Harry said very quickly, 'Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Vandyll Zinpike, Luna Lovegood ... we're here to save someone, unless your Ministry can do it first!'

'Thank you,' said the cool female voice. 'Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes.'

Eight badges slid out of the metal chute where returned coins normally appeared. Hermione scooped them up and handed them mutely to the rest. The floor of the telephone box shuddered and the pavement rose up past its glass windows; the scavenging Thestrals were sliding out of sight. The door of the telephone box burst open; Harry toppled out of it, closely followed by the others.

'Come on, said Harry quietly and the eight of them sprinted off down the hall. They passed the golden gates and into the lifts. Harry pressed the number nine button.

They stepped out into the corridor where nothing was moving out but the nearest torches, flickering in the rush of air from the lift. Harry turned towards the plain black door. After months and months of dreaming about it, he was here at last.

'Let's go,' he whispered, and he led the way down the corridor, Luna right behind him, gazing around with her mouth slightly open.

'OK, listen,' said Harry, stopping again within six feet of the door. 'Maybe ... maybe a couple of people should stay here as a-as a lookout, and-'

'And how're we going to let you know something's coming?' asked Ginny, her eyebrows raised. 'You could be miles away.'

'We're coming with you, Harry,' said Neville.

'Let's get on with it,' said Ron firmly.

Harry turned to face the door and walked forwards ... just as it had in his dream, it swung open and he marched over the threshold, the others at his were standing in a large, circular room. Everything in here was black including the floor and ceiling; identical, unmarked, handleless black doors were set at intervals all around the black walls.

'Someone shut the door,' Harry muttered.

Neville pushed the door closed and the place became so dark that for a moment the only things they could see were the bunches of shivering blue flames on the walls and their ghostly reflections in the floor.

While Harry was trying to decide which door was the right one, there was a great rumbling noise and the candles began to move sideways. The circular wall was rotating. Then, quite as suddenly as it had started, the rumbling stopped and everything became stationary once again.

'I think that was to stop us knowing which door we came in through,' said Kitty in a hushed voice.

'How're we going to get back out?' said Neville uncomfortably.

'Well, that doesn't matter now,' said Harry forcefully, 'we won't need to get out till we've found Sirius-'

'Don't go calling for him, though!' Hermione said urgently; but Harry had never needed her advice less, his instinct was to keep as quiet as possible.

'Where do we go, then, Harry?' Ron asked.

Harry marched straight at the door now facing him, the others following close behind him.

They were standing in a large, dimly lit and rectangular, and the centre of it was a raised stone dais in the centre of a pit, on which stood a stone archway that looked so ancient, cracked and crumbling that Harry was amazed the thing was still standing. Unsupported by any surrounding wall, the archway was hung with a tattered black curtain or veil which, despite the complete stillness of the cold surrounding air, was fluttering very slightly as though it had just been touched.

'Who's there?' said Harry, jumping down on to the bench below. There was no answering voice, but the veil continued to flutter and sway.

'Sirius?' Harry spoke again, but more quietly now that he was nearer.

Kitty had the strangest feeling that there was someone standing right behind the veil on the other side of the archway.

'Let's go,' called Hermione from halfway up the stone steps. 'This isn't right, Harry, come on, let's go.'

Kitty thought the archway had a kind of beauty about it, old though it was. The gently rippling veil intrigued her; she felt a very strong inclination to climb up on the dais and walk through it.

'What are you saying?' Harry said, very loudly, so that his words echoed all around the stone benches.

'Nobody's talking, Harry!' said Hermione, now moving over to him.

'Someone's whispering behind there,' Kitty said, 'Is that you, Ron?'

'I'm here,' said Ron, appearing around the side of the archway.

'I can hear them too,' breathed Luna, joining them around the side of the archway and gazing at the swaying veil. 'There are people in there!'

'What do you mean, "in there"?' demanded Hermione, jumping down from the bottom step and sounding much angrier than the occasion warranted, 'there isn't any "in there", it's just an archway, there's no room for anybody to be there. Harry, Kitty, stop it, come away-'

'Harry, we are supposed to be here for Sirius!' she said in a high-pitched, strained voice.

'Sirius,' Harry repeated, still gazing, mesmerised, at the continuously swaying veil. 'Yeah ...'

'Let's go,' Kitty said and they marched them firmly back to the lowest stone bench and clambered all the way back up to the door.

'What d'you reckon that arch was, Kat?' Harry asked Kitty as they regained the dark circular room. Kitty shrugged, still thinking about it.

Once more, the wall span and became still again. Harry approached another door at random and pushed. It did not move.

'What's wrong?' said Hermione.

'It's ... locked ...' said Harry, throwing his weight at the door, but it didn't budge.

'Get out of the way!' said Hermione sharply. She pointed her wand at the place where a lock would have been on an ordinary door and said, 'Alohomora!'

Nothing happened.

'Sirius's knife!' said Harry. He pulled it out from inside his robes and slid it into the crack between the door and the wall. The others all watched eagerly as he ran it from top to bottom, withdrew it and then flung his shoulder again at the door. It remained as firmly shut as ever. What was more, when Harry looked down at the knife, he saw the blade had melted.

'Right, we're leaving that room,' said Hermione decisively.

'But what if that's the one?' said Ron, staring at it with a mixture of apprehension and longing.

'It can't be, Harry could get through all the doors in his dream,' said Hermione, marking the door with another fiery cross as Harry replaced the now-useless handle of Sirius's knife in his pocket.

Harry, with a feeling of increasing desperation, pushed the next door open.

'This is it!' said Harry.

Harry's heart was pumping frantically now that he knew they were on the right track; he led the way down the narrow space between the lines of desks, heading, as he had done in his dream.

'This is it,' Harry said again, and his heart was now pumping so hard and fast he felt it must interfere with his speech, 'it's through here-'

He glanced around at them all; they had their wands out and looked suddenly serious and anxious. He looked back at the door and pushed. It swung open. They were there, they had found the place: high as a church and full of nothing but towering shelves covered in small, dusty glass orbs.

'You said it was row ninety-seven,' whispered Hermione.

'Yeah,' breathed Harry, looking up at the end of the closest row, 'We need to go right, I think. Keep your wands ready.'

They crept forward, glancing behind them as they went on down the long alleys of shelves, the further ends of which were in near-total darkness.

'Ninety-seven!' whispered Kitty.

'He's right down at the end,' said Harry, whose mouth had become slightly dry. 'You can't see properly from here.'

And he led them between the towering rows of glass balls, some of which glowed softly as they passed.

'He should be near here,' whispered Harry, convinced that every step was going to bring the ragged form of Sirius into view on the darkened floor. 'Anywhere here ... really close ...'

'Harry?' said Hermione tentatively, but he did not want to respond. His mouth was very dry.

They had reached the end of the row and emerged into more dim candlelight, There was nobody there. All was echoing, dusty silence. Nobody spoke. Harry did not want to look at any of them. He felt sick. He did not understand why Sirius was not here. He had to be here.

'Harry?' Ron called.

'What?'

'Have you seen this?' said Ron.

'What?' said Harry, but eagerly this time-it had to be a sign that Sirius had been there, a clue. He strode back to where they were all standing, a little way down row ninety-seven, but found nothing except Ron staring at one of the dusty glass spheres on the shelf.

'What?' Harry repeated glumly.

'It's-it's got your name on,' said Ron.

Harry moved a little closer. Ron was pointing at one of the small glass spheres that glowed with a dull inner light, though it was very dusty and appeared not to have been touched for many years.

'My name?' said Harry blankly.

Kitty read the yellowish label affixed to the shelf right beneath the dusty glass ball. In spidery writing was written a date of some sixteen years previously, and below that:

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

Dark Lord

and (?)Harry Potter

'Harry, I don't think you should touch it,' said Hermione sharply, as he stretched out his hand.

'Why not?' he said. 'It's something to do with me, isn't it?'

'It's got my name on,' said Harry.

And feeling slightly reckless, he closed his fingers around the dusty ball's surface. Expecting, even hoping, that something dramatic was going to happen, something exciting that might make their long and dangerous journey worth while after all, Harry lifted the glass ball down from its shelf and stared at it. Nothing whatsoever happened. The others moved in closer around Harry, gazing at the orb as he brushed it free of the clogging dust.

And then, from right behind them, a drawling voice spoke.

'Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me.'