In the midst of the chamber, a veil-like curtain stood, its surface rippling as if affected by some unseen breeze. His eyes were drawn to it, knowing that it held a sense of profound mystery and power. But before he could ponder its significance further, movement at the edge of his vision caught his attention.
There, emerging from the shadows, were two figures that sent a chill through his heart. On one side stood Voldemort, his pale, snake-like eyes fixed on Harry, his presence exuding a malevolence that seemed to wrap around the very air. On the other side stood Sirius Black, a figure he had longed to see again since his tragic demise.
Sirius' appearance was both astonishing and bewildering. His form was semi-transparent, like a ghostly apparition, yet his features held the same warmth and familiar grin that Harry remembered so well. The sight of his godfather brought a jumble of emotions—joy, confusion, and a deep longing that threatened to overwhelm him.
The other figure with him confused Harry. He looked familiar, he felt familiar. But who could it possibly be-
"Bring me the boy, Black." The voice said with a hiss. Fear and anxiety flooded Harry's system, clouding his eyes and ears.
"Never, he's at Hogwarts, you won't get him!" Sirius yelled out. Voldemort traced Sirius' neck with his wand.
"On the contrary, Black, I think he'll come. Crucio!" Voldemort's head snapped to the side, looking at Harry, staring into his eyes.
Bring me the object, my sweet. It is almost as well hidden as you.
Harry woke with a start, body shaking in the same sequence as Sirius' under the cruciatus curse. His scar, aching and on fire, bled softly on his forehead.
"Harry, oh my god, come on! Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey-" Was that Hermione? Why was she in the boys dorm? He blinked, opening his eyes that were previously shut. They weren't in the dorm, oh no. They were in the library.
"I need to talk to Sirius." Harry said, bolting out of the library. Hermione trailed him, running almost faster than he was.
"Harry, you need to stop." Hermione panted out. "Tell me what's going on."
"He has Sirius." Harry kept pushing himself, faster and faster he ran around Hogwarts, even jumping over a gap in the stairs. If it was the portrait or the painting that gasped, Harry wouldn't know.
No one was in the common room when Harry bolted in. Good. He rushed up the stairs, throwing open his trunk. A shiny glass mirror was right on top. It was a gift that Sirius had given him in case Harry ever wanted to contact him outside of letters. He had only used it once, the first night he was separated from Ron and Neville. Sirius had said it was a good thing, and after some tense conversation from Harry's side, Harry had gone to bed. He hadn't used it since, sending the barest of letters to Sirius. Now he felt guilty. If Voldemort really had Sirius then-
"Sirius!" Harry shouted at the mirror. "Sirius, answer me back!" No answer. Harry threw the mirror back in his trunk, clambering back down the stairs. He almost fell but even that couldn't push him off his goal. He needed to contact Sirius, to make sure he was okay.
"Hermione! You're a prefect, activate the floo!" Harry looked frantic now, hands pulling up to pull at his hair like he usually did when stressed. Perfect, just bloody fucking perfect.
"Harry, I can't, you know it's an O.W.L.S day for the history of magic! The only people allowed to floo or fire call are teachers. Plus, we can't even floo to Sirius' house!" Hermione reasoned with him. Or tried to, at least. Harry's mind when angry was a rampaging red river, beating at the small rock he considered his self control. Voldemort had Sirius! He was going to kill him!
"Ickle Harrykins," He heard, turning around to face a pair of identical faces. Fred and George. "It seems you require our assistance." Harry took a deep breath, forcing his rampaging feelings down the way he and Ron had practised. Both boys were more expressive than Neville was, so working on that concept together had been helpful.
"Help me."
And all four of them were off.
With deft fingers, Fred conjured a glowing map of the castle layout, detailing the movement of every caretaker and professor, ensuring they would have enough time to execute their plan without interruption. George, on the other hand, was focused on assembling an intricate network of enchanted fireworks, designed to go off in a spectacular display distracting the entire staff.
Their most crucial component, however, was a potion that could create lifelike illusions. They had spent countless hours perfecting it, and now it shimmered in a flask, ready to be unleashed. It was based off of Harry's own ability that Ron had told them about. The twins exchanged a determined look, knowing that this moment was the culmination of their years of pranking expertise.
As they began casting their spells, the fireworks leapt into action, bursting forth with a dazzling array of colours and patterns that lit up the night sky visible through the windows. The unexpected display drew gasps of amazement from anyone who happened to glance out, leaving the staff in a state of confusion and awe.
Meanwhile, Fred and George swiftly moved to their next step. With precision and timing that only years of experience could provide, they scattered a fine mist of the illusion potion across the corridor leading to Umbridge's office. The mist took form, twisting and turning into the appearance of an elaborate parade of magical creatures, complete with floats and music that seemed to echo through the stone walls.
Caught up in the spectacle, the teachers rushed to the windows to catch a better view, while Umbridge herself hurried to see what all the commotion was about. In the midst of the chaos, Harry, wearing his Invisibility Cloak, slipped past unnoticed, his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. Hermione was out keeping watch.
"Sirius Black, Grimmauld Place." Harry spoke into the fireplace. He reached his head in, ignoring the tickling flames as he looked around. Sirius was nowhere to be seen.
"Sirius? Sirius!?" Harry yelled. It was silent around the house, and if Harry could have crawled through the floo, he would have.
"Stupid little freak, coming in here.." Harry heard, his heart soared with joy.
And then crashed.
"Kreatcher! Where is Sirius!" he barked at the elf.
"Stupid useless master isn't here." Kreacher seethed, teeth baring. God if Harry could just reach over there and-
"Tell me where he is!"
"Stupid useless master never said. Stupid halfblood child." The elf muttered some more, walking away from the floo.
"Kreacher! Come back this instant you insolent, barefaced little creature!" Harry yelled, voice echoing with no one to hear it but himself.
And suddenly Harry was ripped out of the floo. Face to face with Umbridge herself.
"Well, Mr. Potter." She said, voice sickeningly sweet. It coasted in his ears, filling them with promises of pain. "What do we have here?"
"I was trying to reach my Godfather, he wasn't answering any of my mail." Umbridge waved her wand, and suddenly tight ropes were covering Harry's wrists. Umbridge's face was contorted into an ugly purple.
"Liar! You were trying to reach Dumbledore, weren't you? He's been out for a few day's, and you were trying to call him back!"
"I wasn't, professor-"
"Shut it, Potter. Tell me, where has he gone?" Harry struggled against his restraints, memories flashing back to the night at the graveyard. This was oddly similar.
"I don't know, Professor." He spoke, trying to get out of his bonds, trying to convince her he was innocent. He cared naught for Dumbledore at the moment. His mind's only focus was saving Sirius.
"Liar." Suddenly Harry's nerves were on fire. He knew this curse, knew it well. Crucio. He heard Hermione scream, somewhere in the room. The spell ceased.
"Well, ready to talk now?" She asked, sitting down on the corner of her desk. Harry was surprised it didn't cave under her fat arse.
"Yeah, I am. Voldemort's spells hurt more than yours." And Harry was back under. If Harry was in his right mind, he probably would have screamed, cried, begged her to stop, something other than laughing. But he wasn't in his right mind, not without his Godfather. So Harry laughed, laughed so hard that Umbridge had to stop the spell, and then laughed more afterwards.
"I'm not telling you shit." He spat, spittle landing on her cheek.
"I thought we were friends, Harry." SHe traced his jaw line with her wand, disgusting him to his core. "Won't you tell me where little old Dumbledore is?"
"I'm not telling you shit!" He repeated, voice raising.
"Then I will!" Hermione said. She was held back by Draco Malfoy, who was looking at Harry, stunned. Either from the fact that Harry had laughed, or that his professor was using an unforgivable, Harry didn't know.
"Miss Granger, whatever do you mean?" Umbridge asked, turning to the girl.
"In the forest, that's where Dumbledore is hiding." Hermione lied, eyes hard. There was no way in hell that Dumbledore had stayed near the school on a supposed trip. One he had announced to the whole school.
"Of course! He wanted to test us, it makes so much sense…" Umbridge muttered. Harry just eyed his friend, still held by Draco Malfoy.
"Granger, you will take us there." She snapped, turning to face Harry. "You, you are going to stay here and wait for me. I have plans for you, boy." Her eyes filled with a malicious gleam. Harry gave her a large, shit eating grin that he wasn't feeling anymore. Her Crucio didn't compare to Voldemort's, but two rounds back to back still hurt. Still, he needed to get out of here. He pulled at the ropes. Too tight for him to reach his wand, but what if…
Harry focused on his magic, feeling it roll off his body in small, jerky waves. His magic was as tense and coiled as a rattlesnake. Slowly, too slowly, a green bunny began to materialise on the desk. His magic pushed a bit more, filling it with his thoughts. Umbridge Room, help.
"Go get Ron and Neville, okay? They'll know what you are." He spoke softly to the bunny. Its nose twitched, paw coming up to rub it, before it promptly jumped out the window.
Well, way to make an exit.
"Oh Harry! Oh God!" Ron said as he and Neville came tumbling in. Neville's heart was beating in his chest. Here Harry was, strong up like some torture doll, shaking.
"Hey guys." He said, voice light with darker undertones shifting through. "Wanna cut me down?"
"I got you, I got you." Neville said as he slowly helped Harry out of the bindings. A couple Difindo's did the trick, but Harry was still weak from his two rounds of Crucio. Ron helped him prop himself up on the desk.
"Voldemort has Sirius." Harry said, voice wavering. He was scared for his Godfather, and a horrid thought crossed his mind. What if he was already too late? What if Sirius was dead?
"Where?" Neville asked softly, hand grabbing Harry's own.
"Department of Mysteries in the Ministry."
It was quiet, all three boys knowing what the other was going to ask. How would one of them ask the other not to go, ask to come along, and ask to go in general? Neville knew that Harry loved his Godfather, but Neville didn't want to lose Harry either.
"Let's get a move on then." Ron said gruffly, walking towards the door. Neville stood still, almost petrified. Harry had walked with Ron towards the door, even though his body was filled with dread, and was still shaking.
"Neville?" Harry asked, a rough voice unusually soft. "If you want, you don't have to go. I-I know this isn't really what you signed up for friend wise." Harry trailed off. Neville shook his head. No, Harry needed him, and Neville needed to protect Harry. That was his job.
Something clicked in his chest, and his magic soared.
"Let's go kick some butt. And rescue Sirius."
It wasn't hard sneaking out of Hogwarts, they ducked behind corridors, walked and talked like normal kids around teachers, and then ran when no one was around.
"How are we going to get out? Neville asked suddenly. They stood by the Hogwarts gate, but all three of them knew you couldn't leave without a professor. "Should we go back and grab Professor McGonagall?"
"Not enough time." Harry muttered, biting his nails.
"I think I can get us out of here." Ron said, grabbing a rock. "It'll take a few minutes, but I can get us there."
"What do you need?" Harry asked immediately.
"Pump some of your magic into this work. You too, I think, Neville. We need a portkey strong enough to overpower the Hogwarts wards and the ministry." Harry and Neville stared at him a moment, then broke into grins.
"Ron! Where'd you learn this?" Neville asked. Ron flushed, his face starting to match his hair.
"I read it in a book." He said, face pinched. "Now shut up so I can focus."
As Ron wrote complicated runes into the rock with a transfigured quill, Harry and Neville lightly entwined fingers. They knew that Ron needed power to supply their impromptu portkey, but would they have enough afterwards to potentially fight off death eaters? A bright light was emitted from the portkey as Ron added a few more runes.
"I haven't written it yet, but the portkey phrase is Life. We have to say it all at once." Harry and Neville nodded at the redhead, and Neville squeezed Harry's own. When Ron was finished writing, he shared a look with his two friends, his brothers, his life.
"Are you ready for this?" Harry asked his two brothers.
"Ready as I'll ever be." Muttered Neville. Ron just nodded.
"Life!"
And with a swirl of breathtaking magic, they were gone.
Minerva McGonagall was enjoying the peaceful day of O.W.L's. That was until an alarm rang on her wand, a high pitched, shrilly thing that caused many students to grimace. Bolting, she made her way up to the headmasters office.
Three students have left by portkey. A device said. McGonagall knew that, the shrilling of her wand was evident enough.
Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley. She sucked in, air leaving her body. No, there was no way. Why would they-? She didn't think about it, only rushing down into the dungeons.
"Severus!" She pounded on his door. Thirty seconds later, Severus Snape opened the door, irate.
"Minerva, what is the meaning-"
"Potter, Longbottom and Weasley have somehow acquired a portkey and have left Hogwarts." Snape sneered at the older woman.
"And why is that my concern?" He asked. The words ministry popped into The acting headmistress's head.
"Because, Severus. They are heading to the ministry."
Magic swirled around our trio, pulling at their hair and their clothes, filling their lungs and leaving them breathless all the same. They landed in a dark hallway, a mess of limbs and slightly tattered clothes. The hallway itself is a long and dimly lit corridor, lined with a series of towering, ancient-looking doors on both sides. The walls were made of cold, grey stone that seemed to absorb the light, creating an almost unsettling gloominess. The air was thick with an unidentifiable scent, a mix of mustiness and an underlying sense of otherworldliness.
The doors along the hallway were tall and ornate, adorned with intricate carvings and symbols that hinted at the magical experiments and studies that may have taken place within. The wood of the doors was polished and worn, showing the passage of time and countless hands that have touched them over the years. A thought passed through Harry's head. The department of Mysteries.
As Harry walked down the corridor, he couldn't shake off the feeling that they were being watched. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint echoes of their footsteps on the stone floor. It was as if the hallway existed in a state of suspended animation, separate from the bustling world of Britain and the outside world.
Harry was terrified.
"Where do we start?" Asked Neville, wand tight in his grip. Sweat covered his brow, rolling down his cheek onto his neck. Harry didn't know if it was fear, or the taxing amount of magic they had cast to get here.
"Just start opening them, I guess." Harry replied, his uncertainty obvious. They split, going down the walls, trying every door they could get their hands on. It seemed like hours were passing, and Harry was getting more anxious by the second.
"What if he's dead and we're stuck here looking at bloody fucking doors for the rest of our lives." Harry spat, fist pounding on a locked door. "Come on, open up!"
"Harry!" He heard Ron yell. "This one's open!"
Harry ran, Neville close behind him. As the three entered, the door slammed shut, slowly fading away. They were trapped.
Harry looked around at the room, filled with glass orbs and soft lights. He knew this room from his dreams. This was where Mr. Weasley was attacked.
"Ron, this is what your dad was guarding." He said, eyes wide as he continued to look at every object. Some of the orbs were pitch black, seeming to draw you in and make you want to flee at the same time. Others were a bright light, fresh and uncovered in cobwebs.
"Why was he the guardian of some measly little balls?" Ron questioned. No one had an answer for him, and the three continued down the countless rows.
Laughter, high and bright, rang out somewhere far away, and Neville froze.
"I know that laugh." He began muttering it. "I heard it, back when my, when my parents-" Harry grabbed Neville's wrist, Ron having his own trapped in a tight grip, and the three ran.
"Illusion, Harry." Ron said. "They must know we're here." Harry nodded, focusing his magic as they stopped their running to hide. A second Harry materialised, drawing from his magic. In the centre, he commanded with his mind. The illusion said nothing, but began leisurely walking around as if he had nowhere better to be. Neville nodded at him, hand clammy and tense in his own.
"Look, Harry!" Neville whispered. "They're alphabetized. Lumos." A soft light appeared at the end of Neville's wand, and Harry saw a shining "M" on the side of the isle. They kept walking, shelves and containers passing them.
"Harry Potter! Cocky aren't we!" They heard from somewhere not so far away. They sped up. N, O…P! They turned down the shelf randomly, Harry taking a detour. Something was pulling in his chest, and he walked the lengthy shelves until he found what the object was. An orb, no, two, both bright and shining and there.
"Harry, your name is on both of these." Neville mused.
"Ours are on this one too." Ron said, picking up the orb. It felt warm in his hands, and he passed it to Neville. Harry was struck with an idea. The loud ringing of "Avada Kedavra!" Only furthered his choice.
"Dobby!" He summoned. It took a few seconds, a loud pop sounding the arrival of the house elf. He shoved the orb into the being's little hands. "No time to speak, Dobby. Take this to Neville's trunk. Hide it if you must. No one must see you." The elf said nothing, but popped away with a large bout of nods.
"Ickle Potter! Trying to trick us with a silly spell!" Neville's grip on his shoulder tightened, and all three of them were filled with dread.
"Run." He managed to say, a bright green spell hitting the shelves next to them. The boys booked it, running and casting spells as fast and as safely as they could.
"Diffindo!" Ron cast, hitting some random Death Eater square in the neck. They crumbled, and Ron shuddered as they kept running.
"Not so good, are we now Potter?!" He recognised the voice as Lucius Malfoy. His blood boiled. Neville cast a large protego, protecting them from a quick onslaught of spells.
"Inceptactum." Harry and Neville cast, the spell a jagged, cerulean intertwining duo of rays. They hit a death eater square in the chest, his body quickly transfiguring into that of a fish. He'd die of asphyxiation if the spell wasn't reversed.
"Fluoasis Rategra." Harry cast on a random orb. It quickly transfigured into a long white sword, and with a flick of Ron's wrist it went flying. One death eater managed to dodge, but it turned and hit someone in the leg, crippling them. Ice began to form over the wound as they tried to pull it out.
"Oh god, we're actually harming them." Neville said as they rounded another corner, a door not far from them. They ran towards it, Ron taking the initiative to cast as many protection spells as he knew.
"Training paid off." Was all Harry managed to say, the glowing orb still held tightly in his hand.
"Give us the prophecy!" Malfoy Senior yelled. Ron opened the door, Neville flying threw it, Ron not far behind.
"Catch!" Harry yelled, hurling the orb, well prophesy, down on the ground. The woman screamed. Harry ran after his two friends. Once the door was shut, Ron quickly warded it.
In the middle of the room stood a veil, frosty and cold to Harry and Ron. Neville on the other hand was drawn to it, his stare unwavering as he took in every detail of it. It had no words, no runes, just a stone arch with whispering noises and crackling magic.
"Who was that? The crazy bitch?" Ron asked Neville, noticing how tense he was when he heard her scream.
"Bellatrix Lestrange. She was," he took a breath, finally breaking eye contact with the arch to look at his friends. "She was the one who tortured my parents. I still hear her laughter when the dementors come by." Ron's face was filled with sympathy as he patted Neville on the shoulder.
The loud pops of apparition appeared suddenly, putting the three boys on guard.
"You'll pay for what you've done, Potter!" Bellatrix screamed, casting spell after spell at the three of them. Ron was nicked by a cutting curse, but most of their spells were deflected by their quick shields.
"Cover me!" Neville yelled, Ron and Harry quick to follow, casting basic healing charms on each other just in case.
"Impereo Tyrarbus!" Neville shouted, the dirt he always kept in his pockets becoming useful once more. Large vines came out of his pockets, sharp as knives as they shot for the nearest death eater. The dirt transformed too, becoming a large vulture. The same as Neville's patronus, Harry realised. A being symbolic of the deity watching over him. Ron was next to cast, his magic not the same as the warded stone he still had from their portkey. He itched a few runes into it quickly, Harry proving a good cover with his volatile spells. The rock transformed, still holding the original runes, into a large dog. Not the grim, like Sirius' animagus form, but a large dog with pointy teeth and itching for blood. It ran out, skillfully dodging spells as it distracted their enemies. Harry was next, pushing his magic into the form of a bright owl, talons sharp and ready to maim.
And as they fought, Death, Life, and Time bonded together once more.
"Menderous." Ron muttered from behind his shield, the spell hitting a maskless death eater in his arm. He watched as pain etched his face, the muscles in his arm likely coming apart in torn sections. He needed to thank Hermione for the access into the restriction section. That spell did some good damage.
A large door suddenly slammed open, and everyone, our three students and death eaters alike, turned. It gave Neville's summon the perfect opportunity to slam into a death eater, impaling them and splattering blood onto the wall and floor.
Neville felt nothing, only morbid fascination. Was this his gift of death? He could practically feel the life draining out of the unknown man, and apparently so could the other boys, their stare turning to the arch. They all knew, this was the gateway to death, the domain of a deity only Neville had the honour to meet.
"Sirius!" Harry yelled as his godfather jumped into the fray. Spells began flying once more, a symphony of colour and pain and bliss alike. Harry lived for this, and wasn't that a thought? He always deemed himself non-violent, and here he was, with his two best friends and godfather alike, casting spell after spell. He felt alive, and to Harry that was all that mattered at the moment. Sirius was here, not murdered by a murderous bastard, and was protecting him.
"Nice one James!" The man yelled out when one of Harry's cutting curses hit Bellatrix in the leg. His heart broke a little then. His hand falling to his side. James? Had Sirius and his father done something like this before? Were memories of happiness swirling in Sirius' head while Harry felt his own heart shatter?
"Stupefy!" Harry heard. The spell hit Sirius in the chest, and the man stumbled back, etching closer and closer to the arch, the veil of death-
"Sirius!" Harry shouted, hand reaching out to grasp at the man, maybe even to jump in after him. Sirius smiled down at him, and so slowly (even though only meer seconds had passed) fell into the veil.
Harry screamed, and felt someone grab at him. He watched as Ron's dog ran after him, only to be summoned back by Ron, the stone returning to normal.
Tears ran down his face, and Neville held him close. The other people that had followed Sirius, Remus and Tonks, he noted, were still casting. They hadn't seen it- Sirius hadn't looked so peaceful in so long. He hadn't looked so happy, even with Harry beside him.
Sirius was joining James.
"Harry, the doors open, we have to get out of here." Neville mumbled into his hair, pulling him towards the exit. "We'll do something, I'll talk to death whatever you need but we have to go." Harry nodded, soul, body, and mind numb. They ran. And they ran after Bellatrix.
"I killed Sirius Black!" She spouted, glee and laughter evident in her tone. Harry's stomach hardened, and he quickly broke free of Neville's grip. He chased after the madwoman, ready to kill.
"Harry, no!" Neville and Ron called, but Harry paid little attention to them. Somewhere in his chest, his magic sang, and he wished to scratch the itch it caused.
Bellatrix needed to pay.
"Crucio!" He spat, spell hitting her in her back. She fell to the floor, her screams delightful to his ears.
That's right, my sweet. His magic seemed to speak to him. Was it even his magic anymore? It stenched of Voldemort. Cast it again, you know you deserve to. She killed Sirius. She deserves this.
And Harry agreed. He cast it again, the spell hitting her weakened form. Her screams were like music to his ears, better sound then any instrument could play, then any song could ever be sung. His magic flared.
"Harry! Stop it now!" He heard. The voice was familiar, but his magic, no, the voice in his head was over taking his senses.
You know the spell, my love. The voice seemed to trace his lips, his jaw, his chest. Something akin to a dark arousal flooded his senses. Two little words, the killing curse, you know how to cast it. The voice was right. He did know how to cast it, he had seen imposter Moody do it in fourth year. He could cast it, if he truly wanted to. And boy, he wanted to.
"Avada Ke-" a body slammed into it, and suddenly the magic filling his mind vanished, leaving him with an incredible headache. It was Ron, evident by the red hair laying on his chest. Shame flooded inside him, washing away every bit of lingering hold that sickening magic had on him. Voldemort was in his mind, and he needed him out.
"Harry you bloody mad fool." Ron blubbered, and he felt wet spots soaking through his shirt. "I thought- I couldn't let you, not here, I don't know why, I just-" Neville ran up to them, crouching next to the boys on the floor, casting a quick Regearmus Tormulso to check and heal any injuries. Harry looked up at him, grateful, and Neville managed a small smile back to him.
A deep laughter rang out around them, the hair raising on everyone's back. It was then he noticed Dumbledore, face hard and angry in a way Harry had never seen. A black mass of magic came swarming into the room, and when it landed, there stood a pale, noseless Voldemort in all his dark glory. Harry stared, both entranced and disgusted at the man.
"Tom, you must cease this madness." Dumbledore spoke. Voldemort just laughed again.
"Stop what, Dumbledore?" He spat at the man. "You're dear golden boy already destroyed my prophecy, what else is there to do?" Harry didn't know who cast the first spell.
The atrium's polished marble floor reverberated with their magical auras clashing, as spells and curses erupted with dazzling brilliance. Dumbledore's wand moved with grace and precision, conjuring intricate shields and weaving protective barriers. Voldemort's spells were swift and lethal, leaving trails of dark energy in their wake.
"Expelliarmus!" Dumbledore's voice resonated like a bell, his wand sending forth a beam of light that clashed with Voldemort's spell. The resulting shockwave echoed through the atrium, shattering nearby glass windows. The force of their magical confrontation sent shockwaves rippling through the environment, causing the statues of witches and wizards that lined the atrium to tremble.
Ron, Harry, and Neville watched in awe and apprehension from a vantage point near the entrance. Ron's freckled face was etched with concern for his friend Harry, who stood mesmerised by the duel's intensity. Neville's knuckles whitened as he gripped his wand, a mixture of fear and determination in his eyes.
Dumbledore's movements were fluid, his wisdom and experience evident in every gesture. He deflected curses effortlessly and countered with spells that combined elegance and power. A whirlwind of magic swirled around him, painting a portrait of mastery over his craft.
Voldemort, on the other hand, relied on his inherent cruelty and raw power. His spells were brutal and direct, leaving behind a trail of destruction. The dark aura that emanated from him seemed to warp the very air around them.
Amidst the chaos, a pillar of light erupted from Dumbledore's wand, colliding with a torrent of darkness unleashed by Voldemort. The collision sent shockwaves cascading outward, shattering more of the atrium's architecture. The force of the explosion knocked Ron, Harry, and Neville off their feet, forcing them to shield their eyes from the blinding light.
As the dust and debris settled, both Dumbledore and Voldemort stood facing each other once again. Sweat glistened on Dumbledore's brow, his breath steady but laboured. Voldemort's eyes burned with a frenzied determination, his own body showing signs of strain from the battle.
The students exchanged worried glances, their hearts racing as they realised the immense power these two wizards commanded. They could feel the currents of magic weaving and intertwining, the very fabric of reality itself bending under the weight of their clash. Voldemort's magic, with every spell, seeming to caress Harry's skin. He was disgusted. Both at the act, and the fact that his body seemed to like it.
The duel continued with renewed vigour, the atrium bearing witness to a battle of light against darkness, wisdom against cruelty. It was a clash that would be spoken of for generations, a testament to the strength of the human spirit and the choices one makes in the face of adversity. And as the echoes of their spells reverberated through the Ministry of Magic, the destiny of the wizarding world hung in the balance.
"We have to get out of here." Ron said suddenly, pulling their portkey stone out of his pocket. "On three."
"One." A spell landed beside them.
"Two." Harry shielded the trio from a spell, seemingly cast by a now awake Bellatrix.
"Three." They spoke the word.
And with a flash, the boys were gone.
They landed back at Hogwarts, exhausted and dirty and hurt. Neville, his breathing laboured, hung tightly to Harry, as if the green eyed boy would escape again. Ron was laying on his back, a hand covering his eyes as he tried to digest everything they saw.
"Never in all my years-" They heard. It was the voice of Professor McGonagall. None of the boys had the strength to get off the ground and look at her, or even turn to her direction.
"Potter!" A louder, more masculine voice shouted. Neville recognised it as Snape, lousy git that he was. Ron looked at Harry, the poor boy's face pale and body gaunt. He needed help, nutrients, water, anything. Harry was ill from magical exhaustion, Ron could feel it.
"What were you boys thinking!" McGonagall yelled as they walked closer. "A portkey out of Hogwarts!? And to the Ministry! You could have been killed." Ron snorted, full of anger and sorrow. Anger at Voldemort, at himself, at Harry. That git had just run off and left him! Left him to do dark magic! Though Ron could recognise that it wasn't Harry's fault, not in the slightest. Ron too had felt the thrall of Voldemort's magic, and Harry had simply fallen under it like Ron and Neville themselves almost had.
She cursed your friend. It seemed to crow. Go help him, join him.
"Death would be better than this hell." Harry said, hoarse voice catching the professors off guard.
"I will have none of your pathetic meandering, Potter!" Snape shouted at him, voice raised. "I will see you expelled for this! Stuck with that worthless dog without a wand to save you!"
"How can he be stuck with a man who is dead?" Neville said, vice grip on Harry. He was tired, but he managed to look up at their head of house, her hand on her heart and eyes wise.
"I killed Sirius Black…" Harry's voice rang out, a dry sob following his sing-song tone. "I killed Sirius Black and tortured the bitch who cursed him."
Okay, a lot of you may be questioning my word usage in this chapter, but I promise you it is not a Tomarry story. I have no hate against those stories actually, I quite love them, but this story isn't one. However, I did want to give insight into the apeal of Dark Magic, and how quickly one can fall under it :D
On a second note, OH MY GOD I'M ALMOST DONE WITH BOOK 1! I decided to keep all three books on this same story, for easier access, but I am so excited to start book two. Chapter 13 will sure be a doozy... Thank you to everyone who started reading this, even if you stopped because you didn't like it. Every comment fills me with so much joy, and I'm so happy to be writing this for you all.