C/W: mild gore


Off-kilter from her interaction with Cedric, the fireplace spat Hermione out unceremoniously onto the cool black tiles of one of the Atrium hearths. She scrambled to her feet, holding back a sneeze from a badly-timed inhale.

Harry was already at her side, speaking in a low voice to the group. "Alright, everyone's here. It doesn't look like any of his people are up here, but Voldemort could be anywhere. We have to be ready for anything—"

The flames flashed green once more and Cedric stepped out to general amazement.

"Diggory?" said Ron, his wand already raised and pointing straight at Cedric's chiselled nose. Harry whirled around, immediately doing the same.

Cedric threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"It's alright," Hermione intervened in a whisper. "He's here to help."

Harry gave her a long look before lowering his wand and beckoning to the group. "Okay. Come on — this way."

He set off at a sprint with Hermione and the others following closely behind. Apart from their footfalls slapping against the dark-panelled floor, seeming far too loud in the wide-empty space, the only other sound in the Atrium was the soft splash of water coming from a huge gold fountain in the centre. A dim light fell from overhead, where softly glowing golden symbols twisted and twined endlessly across the ceiling.

They flew past the deserted security desk at the end of the Hall — an unfavourable omen, to be sure — and through the golden gates where a row of lifts waited. Harry reached the control panel first, stabbing the down button while everyone caught their breath. Well, nearly everyone — it seemed regular Quidditch practice had its advantages for Harry, Ron, and Cedric.

A lift hurtled into view, the grilles parting almost immediately. They piled inside and Harry jammed the number nine button with his thumb. The lift clattered back into motion, making such a racket that any hopes of a covert operation were immediately dashed.

"What's the plan?" Hermione said as loudly as she dared over the grinding of the lift and trading a fearful look with Ron, who had likely realised the same thing.

"We find Sirius first," Harry said immediately, still facing forward. "We'll stay hidden if we can help it — but Sirius is our first priority. Once we find him, we can help determine exactly what the weapon is and which one of the Death Eaters might already have it. There were at least ten of them, probably more, and I only recognised a few — Voldemort's obviously been recruiting. Last I saw, they were all waiting around in that orb room—"

The lift slowed and shuddered to a halt. A smooth voice announced their arrival to the Department of Mysteries.

"Wands at the ready," Harry said in a hushed voice. "Stay close to me."

Seven wands stretched out as they moved together down the dim, narrow corridor. Between Cedric and Neville, Hermione felt her muscles begin to tremble, her wand shaking slightly as a result. She wet her lips, eyes fixed on the plain black door ahead, the same one they'd passed so many months ago...

Harry stopped before it, taking one last look around.

"Sirius?" he whispered. "Are you out here?"

When no answer came, Harry reached out for the handle but hesitated again, looking over his shoulder.

"Maybe a couple of you should stay here as a lookout... you can use the invisibility cloak—"

"We're all going with you, Harry," Ginny cut in firmly. "You're going to need all the help you can get in there."

Neville nodded vigorously at that, as did Ron.

Harry glanced over at Cedric, as if still expecting him to intervene, but Cedric only nodded once as well, his jaw set and his expression focused.

"Fine," Harry said, looking reluctant to move forward for the first time that evening. He pushed the invisibility cloak into Luna's arms. "Here. If anything goes wrong, I want as many of you to get out as possible."

Luna shrugged and handed it to Neville, the only one of them still in his costume from the school demonstration. Neville stuffed it down into the pocket of his robes while Harry turned the handle.

The door swung open to reveal a vast, circular room bathed in ghostly blue light. Wand held tight, Hermione filed in behind Ron and Harry, blinking as her eyes adjusted to this strange semi-darkness.

Apart from the door they had just opened, there were another dozen plain, unmarked black doors set in regular intervals around the room. The floors and ceiling were just as dark — a glossy black that reflected the spectral flames given off by branches of flickering candles set between the doors. Expecting the sounds of their arrival to bounce cavernously around the empty space, Hermione was surprised to find instead that they were swallowed into the blackness, leaving a vacuum that seemed to press in on her from all sides.

Neville was the last inside. He shut the door behind him, cutting off the last sliver of torchlight from the hall. The pressure increased tenfold, and the blue flames now shivering in their brackets upon the wall seemed to confirm it.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, eyes trying to find Harry in the darkness. Surely they could move on now? The next room had to be better than this—

A low rumbling took up somewhere, stalling the breath in her lungs. Suddenly, the walls began to move.

She sucked in a painful gulp of air and clutched at the nearest arm, hanging on for her life as the walls sped up, now only a sickening blur of blue and black. Shutting her eyes against the accompanying surge of nausea, Hermione fervently willed the floor, at least, to stay still—

The rumbling stopped as abruptly as it had begun, and Hermione opened her eyes to find the room looking no differently than it had before. Even the flames were keeping suspiciously still.

"Steady on, Hermione," Cedric said, patting her hand consolingly where it curled vice-like around his arm.

A nervous chuckle bubbled past her lips in response. With great effort, she forced her fingers to loosen and stepped away, blinking rapidly against the yellowish afterimage staining her eyesight.

Ron cleared his throat. "What..." He cleared it again. "What was that?"

Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose, studying each of the doors in turn even though they appeared completely identical. "Erm... I dunno, this never happened in the dream..."

"I think it's to confuse us," Ginny said, sounding shaken for the first time that evening. "Now we don't know the way out."

Everyone was quiet for a moment as that reality sunk in.

"It doesn't matter," Harry finally said, breaking the silence. "We'll figure it out after we've found Sirius and recovered the weapon." Harry rotated slowly on the spot, studying the doors again. "In the dreams, I always walked straight ahead, but now..."

"Shall we just try one?" Luna suggested gently.

Harry appeared to square his shoulders, steeling himself with a curt nod. "Good idea — I'll know it when I see it."

He strode purposely to the door directly ahead of him and turned the handle. Hermione renewed her grip on her wand, bracing herself while she and the others crowded in behind Harry and peered over his shoulders as the door creaked open.

It was impossible to tell the scale of the room behind it. The inside was very dark, nearly pitch black, punctuated by several thousand tiny pinprick points of light. Every so often, one of the specks of light was far larger than the others, and to Hermione's eye, those seemed to exude varying hues of red and blue. Some of them even appeared to be moving, drifting closer or further away or else spinning on the spot.

She broke her gaze away to look back at Harry, wondering if this was the room he'd meant when he'd spoken of strange lights. Except, there weren't any clicking sounds...

Glancing at the others, Hermione quickly realised that they'd all drifted closer to Harry seemingly without realising it, crowding him nearly over the threshold. The air from the room behind them was steadily rushing into the room ahead, and with it, pushing them gradually inside. Harry was still looking around curiously when Hermione snatched at his shirt, dragging him back.

"This doesn't seem right," she said, letting go of Harry and making room for the others to step back. "Let's try another."

Without waiting for an answer, Hermione moved around the side and aimed her wand, passing it over the door in a crisscross pattern.

"Flagrate."

A large, flaming X attached itself to the door just in time. The door snapped closed and that horrible rumbling started up again, the walls spinning once more — this time with a red-orange blur in the mix. When all fell still, the door she'd marked was now on the far wall behind them.

Harry threw her a grateful look. "Nice one."

She nodded mutely, too terrified to even appreciate the mildly impressed looks the others were directing her way.

The next door they tried was locked. They spent a solid minute trying every spell they could think of, including Hermione's newly invented countercurse and a handful of spells only Cedric thought to perform, but to no avail. The door remained firmly shut.

"Let's move on," Harry said quickly, looking increasingly frantic as Hermione repeated the task of marking the door. "I never had trouble getting to the orb room before, so this can't be it."

The next door revealed a simple room, filled with cramped, untidy desks overflowing with paperwork and teetering filing cabinets stacked along the walls. Hermione supposed it wouldn't look out of place anywhere else in the Ministry, except for the strange-looking, many-coloured creature blinking out at them from an enormous cage settled in the corner. It seemed rather like a cross between an owl, a parrot, and an overlarge bat.

Hermione abruptly found herself shunted to the side as Luna pushed past her with comically wide eyes.

"A Blibbering Humdinger!" Luna exclaimed. "They're terribly smart — if we ask it a question, it will—"

The Humdinger — no, Hermione reminded herself, the creature — suddenly responded by overtaking Luna's words with a harsh squawking sound that didn't let up until Ginny had drawn Luna out by the arm and Ron had come around to force the door shut behind her. Seeing that Hermione was distracted, Cedric moved forward and marked it himself with a blazing cross before the doors could spin.

Surprisingly, they didn't.

"We need to go back!" Luna insisted, her eyes still firmly on the door. "It can tell us where—"

Hermione cut her off with an inelegant snort. "Not now, Luna — we need to keep moving. Next door."

She spoke rather sharper to Luna than she might have normally, but Hermione felt she might lose the plot entirely if she had to listen to any of Luna's absurd blathering right now. Harry seemed to agree, practically running in his haste to try the next handle. For her part, Luna just frowned and continued staring at the door.

"Come on," Harry said, "Sirius is probably wherever the weapon is, and if we're lucky, he's stayed hidden and they haven't caught him— this is it!"

The door Harry had just opened revealed a room that almost seemed to sparkle, and was emitting what sounded like dozens — if not hundreds — of clocks ticking all over one another.

As they entered cautiously behind Harry, Hermione discovered that it was, in fact, a room filled to the brim with clocks. There were clocks of every size imaginable covering every single surface, be it walls or tables or the floor, and all ticking incessantly. The sparkling light came from a sort of cloche at the far end of the room, looking to Hermione like someone had just shaken an enormous snow globe and left the glittering dust to settle. Whether or not it was some trick of the light, the door at the far end also seemed to move slightly, rattling gently in its casing as if it had just been shut.

Harry's footsteps sped up, his destination plain. Filing neatly behind Neville through the small aisle of clear floor space, Hermione's pulse seemed to ratchet higher with each step she took.

While every door until now had held only uncertainty of what lie ahead, the door before them beckoned with the unnerving assuredness that whatever happened next, there was no going back. There were a limited number of outcomes from this point forward, and even fewer that Hermione was willing to accept.

Whatever happened, just let them live to see tomorrow. All of them.

Her hand tightened around her wand until she was sure the vine wood would crack beneath the force of it. Merlin help them.

Harry paused near the glittering jar to turn back to them one last time.

"They're through here," Harry said grimly. "We'll take them by surprise if we can, but if we can't... Remember, Sirius first. Then the weapon. Everyone stays together, and no one gets left behind. If it comes to a fight, don't let them get the upper hand — we have stay on the attack. Hopefully we can Stun or Disarm as many as possible before it gets to that point. Everyone ready?"

Hermione drew a deep, fortifying breath and nodded, the others around her doing the same. There was a great shuffling of posture, rolling up of sleeves, and shaking out of limbs as they each prepared to face the inevitable.

She met Ron's eye for a brief moment as he hefted his wand in his grip, unspoken worry passing between them. Harry would never understand, but their first priority would be ensuring he made it out. However much it pained her to think this way, he was more important than Sirius and the weapon put together.

Ron seemed to be able to read her thoughts, for his eyes darted to Harry and back and he gave another, nearly imperceptible nod for her eyes alone.

Voldemort couldn't have Harry. They would protect him to the best of their ability, whatever the cost.

She and Ron were moving forward to stand at either of Harry's shoulders when a glint of light reflecting off and behind the sparkling jar suddenly caught her eye. There was a glass-fronted cabinet hanging on the wall, filled with familiar-looking hourglass shapes. Were those—

The gentle creak of a door on its hinges snapped her attention forward. Harry pushed the door all the way open to reveal a massive room with high, sweeping arches overhead. A gust of cold air whooshed out, prickling across her hands and face and sending a chill washing down her spine.

Just as Harry had described from his dreams, the room was filled with rows upon rows of tall shelves, all laden with foggy-looking glass orbs. Once again, ghostly blue flames burned from brackets spaced around the room, casting the room in a midnight hue. There was a hush over the place, evoking a sense of solemness reminiscent of a cathedral. Or perhaps a crypt.

Hermione shivered again.

Harry stepped forward to inspect a silver number on the end of the nearest row.

"Fifty-three," he whispered.

"Which number do we need?" Ron whispered back.

Harry tipped his glassed firmly into place before answering. "Ninety-seven. I know we'll find it there — probably the Death Eaters, too."

Ginny, who was closest to the next row, reached up to touch the numbers there.

"Fifty-four, here," she said softly. "I think we need to go this way."

They moved up the rows cautiously as a tight-knit group, wands forward and ready to react at a moment's notice. Yet as they approached row number ninety-seven, the only sounds to reach their hearing were those of their own breathing.

Hermione peered over Harry's shoulder from the end of the row where they'd stopped. There was nobody there.

"Did they already get it?" Neville whispered, looking back once over his shoulder. "Have they left?"

"There's a way to be sure," Cedric whispered, offering his opinion for the first time that evening as he looked to Harry. "I can cast a Revealing Spell to tell us if anyone else is in here besides us. Problem is, they'll feel it. They'll know someone's looking."

Harry thought it over for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay... but first, maybe Ginny, Luna, and Hermione should get beneath the cloak. That way, they can—"

Whatever else Harry had been about to say was cut off by a high-pitched cackle.

"Potter?" came a harsh, feminine voice. "Is it actually Potter?"

Hermione and the others crushed themselves together, wands raised and all looking around wildly for the source of the voice.

A cloaked and masked figure stepped forward out of the next row of shelves. The eyes behind the slitted eyeholes widened in glee as they landed on Harry, and the figure raised the hand without its wand to remove the mask entirely. The face revealed was that of an unfamiliar woman, a condescending smile playing around her mouth.

"It's him!" she shrieked triumphantly, throwing her head back to release another manic, blood-curdling laugh.

Something about the haughty look on her face tugged at Hermione's memory, but there was no time to place it. She tensed as over a dozen other shadowy figures emerged from the shelves around them, their suddenly-lit wands throwing the scene into sharp relief.

Hermione and the others remained frozen, wands trained on their would-be assailants. They were surrounded on all sides. Standing between Harry and Neville as she was, Hermione was certain that the both of them could feel her trembling head to foot. Her eyes darted back and forth, quickly totting up the odds — and precisely how much panic was in order.

The answer was very much; they were outnumbered more than two to one.

She hardly dared to breathe, mind running through a litany of jinxes, hexes, and curses. Could she concentrate enough for nonverbal casting? It would certainly be advantageous—

One of the Death Eaters stepped forward.

"Harry Potter," they said softly, eyes looking almost reverent behind the mask. "What an unexpected surprise."

This person, too, reached up to remove their mask, and Hermione gasped in horror as it fell. The man's eyes cut to her and gleamed, ashen lips stretching in an insane smile.

"Why, the Granger girl too! A pleasure," said Barty Crouch Jr., his smile widening as he took her in.

His appearance had barely changed in the months since she'd last seen him — the same sallow skin, the same pale, floppy hair, and the same prematurely lined face. Hermione glared back obstinately, trying to ignore the churning of her stomach.

His eyes roved over the others around her and he barked a laugh. "And look! Two of the Weasley kids, a Lovegood... all my old pupils here to visit. Oh, Bella — take a look at this! It's the Longbottom boy—"

Beside Hermione, Neville stiffened. The woman across from her was now studying Neville with a look bordering on feral, her eyes gleaming in the torchlight.

Neville's wand twitched in his grip as he met her eyes with something like defiance. It was preposterous, but it almost seemed as if he were barely restraining himself from attacking her. What had gotten into him? Hermione nudged his foot with her own until he steadied.

Harry stirred, his jaw set as he addressed the man in front of him.

"Where is it, Crouch?" he asked harshly. "What have you done with it?"

"What have you done with it?" the woman mocked in a horrible, lilting voice.

Crouch only tilted his head, pretending to think. "Now, now, Potter, I don't think you're in any position to make demands. You're simply outmanned, as it were, and clearly outmatched. Truly, I thought I taught you better than this..."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Crouch suddenly took a step forward and roared, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Harry flinched and Crouch doubled over, wheezing with laughter. The other Death Eaters joined in, the sounds of their hissing and jeering making Hermione's skin crawl.

Despite the fact Harry's wand had been centred over Crouch's heart during this entire exchange, Crouch hadn't even bothered to lift his own wand.

He finally looked up at Harry again, another insane grin lighting his features.

"As it so happens, Potter, your timing couldn't be better. Except perhaps having died when you were supposed to, but... let's turn Knuts into Galleons, shall we?" He brandished his wand lazily in Harry's direction. "To me, Potter. We've got a job for you now."

Harry thankfully didn't move.

"Where is it, Crouch?" he repeated brusquely. "Where's the weapon?"

Crouch paused at that, seeming mildly taken aback. He exchanged glances with the unmasked woman, who had paused her leering at Neville to look rather shocked.

"What does he know?" she asked Crouch in a harsh whisper. "Should we keep him from it instead?" Then she whipped around to face Harry, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What has the old man told you? What did you come here to find?"

Harry didn't answer immediately, half-glancing back at Hermione and the others. His wand never wavered from its position on Crouch. Crouch simply looked on, tilting his head as he studied Harry with impassive eyes.

There was complete silence as the Death Eaters around them waited for Harry's reply, their eyes glittering menacingly through the eyeholes of their masks.

"There's nothing to tell," Harry finally gritted out. The woman's eyes grew round with disbelief. Then Harry added, "But I wouldn't tell you anything anyway."

A small whimper pushed past Hermione's lips and she braced herself.

"Tell us what you know about this weapon!" the woman demanded in a screech, looking deranged in her fervency. Without giving Harry a chance to respond, she charged forward, thrusting her wand out towards Harry's neck.

Hermione tensed at the sudden movement, and felt the others around her do the same. Reflexes quick as ever, Harry even managed to put a last-second Shield Charm between them, but inexplicably, the woman stopped well short of her goal.

"Calm down, Bellatrix," ordered Crouch, "we still need the boy."

She looked back at him incredulously. "But if the Dark Lord—"

"The Dark Lord will wait," Crouch said firmly. "Especially if it means he need not get personally involved. We shouldn't squander the opportunity laid before us — it is even better than we could have dreamed to have Potter here at this exact moment, ready to assist his own ultimate demise. He will help us, and then the Dark Lord will dispose of him."

He waved his wand and Bellatrix slumped slightly, as if cut free from invisible bindings. Harry's Shield Charm had already dissipated, but she obediently slithered back into her place in the circle of Death Eaters, back to watching Neville with hungry eyes.

Hermione used the momentary distraction to glance around at the others. Ginny and Luna were facing away, presumably keeping tabs on the Death Eaters on the opposite side of the circle. Neville, round face shining with perspiration, was still baffling focused on the woman called Bellatrix. Ron's head was bent over slightly towards Harry, who was keeping his eyes on Crouch while his lips twitched with nearly imperceptible movement. Cedric was... where was Cedric?

"Come here, Potter. Now," Crouch demanded, gesturing down the nearest row of shelves. "I will show you this weapon."

The Death Eaters behind them began closing in, and they had no choice but to follow as Crouch led the way.

Hermione shuffled forward, keeping her wand steady and pressing close to the others as she tried to keep as far away as possible from the loose ring of Death Eaters surrounding them. The light was dimmer here between the towering shelves of orbs, despite several of the balls flaring into life as they passed. The air even seemed cooler, and her skin prickled into gooseflesh beneath her jumper.

As she was forced down the aisle behind Harry and Ron, one of the the masked figures drifted uncomfortably close. Hermione accidentally met their eyes through the mask, and received a small shock at the familiar shade of grey looking back at her.

Distracted, she lurched to a stop by running into Ron's back. Without looking around, his clammy hand reached back to squeeze her fingers reassuringly.

"Go on then, Potter," Crouch said, watching Harry closely. "You've come this far — see for yourself. We haven't touched it."

Harry looked around at a few of the shelves, obviously at a loss.

Hermione, too, studied the shelves nearest them as much as she dared, seeing if anything stood out. Upon closer inspection, it appeared each of the dusty glass balls had a slip of yellowed paper beneath their places, but nothing indicating that one was in any way different than the others. The glass spheres looked rather like the enormous collection of crystal balls kept in the storage closet of the Divination classroom at Hogwarts.

Heart still hammering in her chest, Hermione glanced over at Crouch and gave a start to realise he was watching her. His lips curled into an unpleasant smile before he looked back to Harry.

"Problem?" Crouch asked Harry in a poor attempt at affability.

Hermione couldn't see Harry's face from her current position, but she saw his shoulders stiffen.

Unexpectedly, Crouch signalled the surrounding Death Eaters to move back with a curt hand motion, giving Hermione and the others more breathing space. Instead of feeling relieved, Hermione palmed the vine wood in her hand even more firmly, her uneasiness increasing tenfold at the expression on Crouch's face.

"Take a closer look, now," Crouch said, staying curiously far away as he looked pointedly at a section of shelf directly in front of Harry. "Best make sure all is in order."

Harry squinted through his glasses at a few of the dust-covered orbs until his gaze fell upon one and stopped.

He took a step closer, seemingly involuntarily.

"Why... why has this got my name on?" Harry wondered aloud. Hermione craned her neck trying to see around Ron, momentarily forgetting their predicament.

Crouch's smile returned, and he nodded to himself. The woman called Bellatrix gasped.

"Surely you jest, Harry Potter."

Harry ignored her, still focused on a small glass sphere that glowed with a dim inner light. Crouch let him look at it a few more moments before breaking the silence.

"Dumbledore never told you, did he?" he asked softly, a very convincing look of pity transforming his wan features. "Never trusted you with the information that is most vital to your existence?"

Harry opened his mouth. "I... I haven't..." He paused, wetting his lips and appearing to struggle with some sort of internal debate.

Seemingly unhurried, Crouch gave Harry another deplorably piteous look, acting content to let the silence stretch.

What was Crouch playing at?

He'd hit a sore spot and he obviously knew it, but Hermione didn't understand why he was playing along at all. If that orb was truly the object Voldemort wanted, why hadn't the Death Eaters already snatched it and absconded?

As for Harry, she could only hope he wasn't falling for Crouch's sympathetic machinations. Was he stalling for help? There was still no sign of Sirius — Harry wisely hadn't mentioned his godfather to the Death Eaters — but anything happening now was only delaying the inevitable.

"What is it?" Harry finally asked Crouch, interrupting her thoughts.

Crouch spread his hands. "Why, it's only the very reason that you bear that scar on your head. The reason your parents are dead, and the reason for the Dark Lord's attempt on your life as a baby. It is the prophecy about yourself and the Dark Lord — the prophecy that began it all."

Harry considered that information, a mixture of emotions playing across his face.

His voice rasped slightly as he spoke. "And why does Voldemort need it now?"

Crouch's face twitched and the other Death Eaters around them let out low hisses.

"You dare speak his name?" Bellatrix shrieked, causing Hermione to jump. "You filthy Half-Blood, you desecrate the most sacred name of our Dark Lord with your unworthy lips—"

"Bellatrix," Crouch said sharply, "I won't remind you again."

Bellatrix paused, chest heaving, to bare a mouthful of yellow teeth at Crouch. She seemed on the verge of attacking, but after throwing another murderous look at Harry, she begrudgingly backed down.

Hermione felt her tense muscles beginning to ache as she waited for the unavoidable moment that this whole situation would implode. Across the circle, the Death Eater she knew to be Lucius Malfoy was still watching her.

"Well, Potter," Crouch began, acting as if Bellatrix's interruption had never been, "we were sent to retrieve this prophecy for you."

"For me?" Harry repeated, looking shocked.

Crouch nodded gravely. "Of course. The moment of your death is written, you see. The Dark Lord's triumph will be secured — it is only a matter of time. The prophecy will help you understand why it is unwise to continue to fight against that which has been foretold."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why should I believe you?"

Crouch raised his brows and gestured to the shelf. "Do you not? Fortunately, you don't have to take my word for it."

Harry wavered, half-reaching a hand up towards the shelf. Hermione suddenly had a very bad feeling.

"Harry, don't!" she said sharply, and at least a dozen pairs of eyes now glinted in her direction through the slits in their masks. The amiable expression had dropped off of Crouch's face to be replaced by unmitigated fury.

"Be quiet, girl!" he spat harshly, spittle flying from his contorted mouth. Harry took one look at Crouch and snatched his hand back, quickly backing up beside Ron and Neville.

Crouch's entire frame was trembling now, and he pointed a shaking finger straight at Hermione.

"It's always you, isn't it?" he hissed. "Haven't you already caused enough trouble?"

His words hit like a blow. Hermione recoiled, fighting to keep her expression smooth. Unknowingly, some part of her subconscious must have internalized the warped sentiments that harkened back to her time under Crouch's Imperius Curse, and his voice had burrowed in and ripped them out anew. She fumbled for her Occlumency measures, finding them in tatters.

Thankfully, Crouch seemed far too distracted to realise the effect he'd just had on her. With Harry there, she was already forgotten.

Her eyes darted around the circle of Death Eaters as she tried to steady herself. It was then she realised that not all of them had turned to look at her. Rather, a small fraction of them were staring straight ahead, wide-eyed and unmoving.

"No more games, Potter," Crouch growled, back to his usual self. "Retrieve the prophecy now, or watch your friends suffer."

Hermione missed whatever Harry said in response, because at that moment, someone squashed her toes with their foot. She smothered a gasp.

"Blast through," Ginny whispered in her ear, barely moving her lips as Crouch was saying something to Harry about rules and prophecies. "Making a run for it. Harry's signal. Tell Cedric."

"—too bad," Harry was saying, "I guess you'll just have to tell him to get it himself."

"What?" Hermione whispered back at Ginny, confused. "But he's not—"

Several things happened at once.

"GO!" Harry yelled, and immediately sent off a Stunning spell towards Crouch. He was joined almost instantly by three other voices, each producing their own beams of red or white light. At the same time, Neville spun on the spot, whipping out the invisibility cloak and throwing it over Harry's head so that Harry instantly disappeared from view.

Hermione had just managed to fire off her own Stunning spell through the swaths of hooded figures ahead when the nearest shelf began to teeter unsteadily, sending glass orbs raining down from above to shatter at their feet. Ghost-like figures burst from the orbs as they crashed, speaking words that were lost to the din of destruction.

Instead of fighting back, many of the Death Eaters were forced to cover themselves from the falling prophecies and resulting shards of glass. Unfortunately, so were Hermione and the others.

"RUN!" shouted Harry's disembodied voice overtop it all, as two of the nearest Death Eaters keeled over from a quick series of red jets of light that formed apparently out of thin air.

Hermione didn't need to be told twice. Throwing an arm over her head, she bolted past a Death Eater standing apparently frozen, wide-eyed and making no move to protect themself, and back down towards the end of the aisle. A flash of red hair showed Ron just ahead of her, and a stuttered sort of breathing suggested Neville was close behind.

"Find him!" Crouch was screaming somewhere in the distance. "Find the boy!"

A sudden heat at her back had Hermione diving for cover. A huge ball of flame went soaring overhead, temporarily blinding her with its brightness. Squeezing her eyes shut against the light, she quickly rolled to the side, trying to keep clear of any pursuing attacks.

Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, Hermione launched unsteadily to her feet, looking around wildly for Ron or Neville or any of the others. Her stomach sank to realise that in the scuffle, she'd lost her bearings, and to make matter worse, the entire room was being slowly blanketed in a dense fog of spell residue and the contents of smashed prophecies. How was she supposed to find anyone else? Or the way out?

She desperately hoped that Harry had already used the cover of his cloak to get to safety. But she also knew Harry, and there was no chance he'd left before making sure every single one of his friends escaped.

A human-shaped shadow blurred to life in front of her eyes. A Freezing Charm on the tip of her tongue, Hermione took aim and opened her mouth before the shape flickered again, revealing Cedric.

"This way!" he urged, tugging her wrist as his form continued to flicker in and out of sight until the Disillusionment Charm fell away completely.

"Where are the others?" she asked frantically, allowing him to lead her through the haze.

"I don't know," he said without looking back. "I saw Weasley, his sister, and the blonde girl take off across the room right after that mad woman started trying to burn the place down—"

A glint of colour caught the corner of her eye—

"Protego!" Hermione cried as a bar of purple light streaked towards them. Cedric's Shield Charm burst outward only a moment later, their combined spells sending the purple light rebounding towards its owner, who fell back into a row of shelves with a crash. Despite the fall, the downed Death Eater was already stirring.

"Hurry!" Hermione urged, now pulling Cedric along as she spotted another Death Eater running to investigate. Then she saw it — a plain black door, just ahead.

"Two of them here!" said a rough voice. "Expulso!"

This time, their Shield Charms weren't enough — the force of the blast blew them backwards. Hermione crashed into the wall, her vision temporarily whiting out on impact, and slid to the floor in a heap. Every part of her ached at once and something warm trickled down her temple, but there was no time to dwell on it. She scrambled back to her feet, her eyesight clearing just in time to see the Death Eater that had blasted them apart charging towards her.

Hermione shouted out the first spell that came to mind.

"Diffindo!"

The Death Eater reared back, roaring in pain and clutching at his face where blood now spurted through the mask from a deep gash in his cheek.

Hermione didn't wait around; she ran hard for the door to the clock room, frantically searching for Cedric as she went. She'd just spotted him running towards her from ahead when another Death Eater came hurtling out the aisle before her. Hermione was forced to launch herself through the door to avoid their jet of sickly-orange light.

Inside the clock room, she nearly tripped headlong over a very big, very blonde, and very petrified Death Eater lying on the floor. His eyes seemed to widen with recognition despite his paralysis, but Hermione stepped around him without a second thought. Heavy footsteps on the other side of the door drove her inward to dart around the shimmering bell jar for cover. Unnoticed before, the jar contained a bright blue egg sitting at the bottom that was slowly starting to rise.

Suddenly, a far-off scream of agony echoed from the room she'd just left, chilling her to the bone.

The footsteps closed in. Hermione considered sealing the door but paused, unwilling to trap Cedric or anyone else inside the prophecy room. The decision was taken away from her as moments later, a Death Eater leapt over the threshold in pursuit.

She immediately cast a nonverbal Disarming Spell, but the Death Eater deflected easily, waving their wand to fire another ray of orangish light at her in return. She parried the spell with another Shield Charm, the force of the magical impact sending vibrations up her wand arm and rattling her clenched teeth.

"Reducto!" Hermione screamed out in retaliation, her wand aimed at the grandfather clock behind which her attacker had just moved. It blasted apart, sending bits of wood and metal flying every direction and collapsing a row of heavy cabinets on top of the unsuspecting Death Eater.

Hiding behind the bell jar, Hermione was surprised to find that the thing wasn't actually solid. The debris from the demolished clock slid easily inside the swirling, silvery wind, beginning to rise and fall along with an ordinary-looking Hummingbird she hadn't noticed before. Distracted for a moment, she watched as the bird fell, resealing itself inside the sapphire blue egg, only for the egg to rise and crack open once more, whence a fledgling Hummingbird emerged.

Her mouth fell open in awe. Was this time? Had they contained actual time?

The explosion must have attracted notice. Another Death Eater tumbled into the room just as the first began attempting to extricate himself from the remains of the rubble. Without warning, the door at the other end of the room burst open to reveal three more Death Eaters charging inside.

Hermione shrunk back, eyes darting wildly between each of them. Raw terror flooded her senses — she was far too outnumbered to escape.

A familiar glint of light caught her attention. She turned on the spot, finding a glass-fronted cabinet hanging on the wall at eye-level. Of course. The bell jar, the cabinet... everything snapped together.

There was no time to waste, but if luck was on her side, there might be time to gain.

"Alohomora!" Hermione shouted.

The doors clicked open and she reached in hurriedly, snatching the first tiny hour-glass she could get her hands on. She pulled back just in time — a searing hot Confringo whizzed by her left cheek, smashing the cabinet and everything inside into smithereens.

Hermione dropped to the floor, twisted the hourglass over three times, and squeezed her eyes shut tightly against the familiar sensation of flying backwards through time. Blood pounding in her ears, she only had time for one, deep inhale before solid ground returned and she opened her eyes to the world coming back into focus.