Harry Potter had made many mistakes in his life. None had ever been as bad as this. The Boy-Who-Lived was going to die, and he had no one to blame but himself. He should have just waited, he should have listened to Ron and Hermione. Instead, he ran headfirst to the Ministry of Magic, blinded by his need to save Sirius' life. He should have known something was wrong when neither Ron nor Hermione followed him through the Floo.

Harry had left no room to argue after telling his friends to alert the order before he threw himself into the green flames. He had tumbled out, landing with no grace into the very eerie, very empty Atrium. He used his hands to push himself up, feeling the polished dark wood under his digits. The Atrium's appearance was much more sinister when empty. There were no crowds to fill in the spaces and Harry couldn't remember it being this large.

He only took a few steps before turning around to gaze at the floo. No one followed him through the fireplace and Harry realized his big mistake immediately, thinking he could do this alone. Surely they would follow him in, tell him how stupid he'd been thinking that he had to save everyone, that he had to shoulder this burden alone. He wished they would come through and tell him.

Every second wasted waiting, however, was another second Sirius was being tortured. He didn't have to think twice.

He began to run through the room, the ornate fireplaces on both sides of him inactive. The bubbling noise from the water in the large fountain was the only sound other than his worn sneakers, they padded heavily against the wood. Not a single flying memo was seen, nor whir from the offices above heard. Harry's hearing became hypersensitive, and any action he made he could account for, even his breathing was loud.

His wand dropped into his hand as he neared the desk for security, it was out of fear rather than habit. This was so odd, so odd. He could remember having his wand checked here just last year, the anxiety he felt then was palpable. Now it was bordering on panic. Where was everybody? He knew he didn't have time to ponder.

Pushing on he passed the desk without another thought, letting himself through the golden gates. He beelined to the elevator directly in front of him. He supposed the trip would be a very short one, as he was the only living being here. His elevator wouldn't need to visit every floor, there was only one stop for him.

He stepped into the open lift and grabbed the handle on the strange mechanism with a shaking hand. He turned it until the golden hole sat neatly over the number 9, the doors closed in response.

Much like any other form of magical transportation, Harry was unable to brace himself. The lift simply went down, Harry was immediately thrown off balance as he was expecting any other direction. His mind was racing, he had to remind himself that this elevator didn't need to dodge others to get to its destination. It was only logical that it would descend easily to level 9, as the Atrium was level 8.

Taking a deep breath, Harry raised his wand. He would be ready. His heart was beating so fast and it only seemed to go faster when the lift came to a stop. A loud dinging indicated his arrival and the scissor gates folded themselves in response.

"Department of Mysteries." rang out. The robotic voice did nothing to ease his growing restlessness, not when he was staring at the door. The same one he'd been seeing in his dreams.

Sirius.

Harry ran. He couldn't hear screams, and that only pushed him to go faster. Screaming meant he was alive, screaming meant still breathing. Silence might have been the worst sound in this scenario.

Harry ran so fast that the black tiles on the floors and walls melted into each other. All he could see was his goal, the door. Still holding his wand, Harry reached for the handle with his free hand. The door gave way, there was no time for subtlety.

The teen threw it open, his godfather's name on the tip of his tongue. Yet it stayed there.

Whatever Harry was expecting, it wasn't a pitch-black room. A sea of black swam in front of him, without the light source from the hallway one would think there was no room at all. Harry cast a quiet Lumos before he took his first few steps. This revealed to him shelves upon shelves, filled with orbs.

This was looking more like the vision he had, yet there was still a serious lack of Sirius. The door shut slowly behind him and started drifting away. Everything felt like slow motion, it was so odd. Harry began to walk forward, holding his wand up to light the way. The shelves had plaques, and the orbs swirled. It was dizzying.

The rows looked never-ending as he continued forward, it very well may have been. There was still so much Harry didn't know about magic, something told him endless rooms were a possibility. Luckily, he only had to find row 97.

He began to walk faster, counting up in his head as the numbers rose. He flew by the thirties, barely registering the shelves in the sixties. He became disoriented and he started to count aloud, needing to keep track.

"92, 93, 94-" He darted forward to the cross-section between shelves 96 and 97. There was nothing. He whipped around, looking in every direction he could. The floor held no clues. He stood exactly where his godfather had been. Or maybe had never been.

Reaching up to grasp at his fringe Harry let out a frustrated huff, he pulled on his hair painfully. This wasn't right. A whispered voice startled the teen and he pointed his wand in the direction. There wasn't anyone he could see, but upon closer inspection, he realized one of the orbs in the direction of the sound glowed brighter than the rest. The ghostly swirls were captivating, and the whispers, Harry realized, were coming directly from it.

It wasn't saying anything audible, yet he somehow knew that it was calling out to him. The teen took a step forward, then another. The plague below this one had his name on it.

S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter.[1]

With his free hand, he reached for the orb. He hesitated before his flesh met glass, but only for a split second, and grabbed it. A face appeared within the fog just before the whispering started.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…" [2]

The hairs on the back of his neck raised as goosebumps spread across his skin, Harry turned around. The light at the tip of his wand bounced off a shiny reflective surface, a mask. Harry held his wand higher, staring at the person who stood in place. The figure began to approach him cautiously.

"And here I thought this couldn't get any easier," Harry knew this voice. The figure held up his wand in a nonthreatening way, dissolving his mask. "Harry Potter. All alone?" Lucius Malfoy drawled. He looked absolutely delighted at the prospect of an easy fight. Harry felt the exact opposite. He would have been completely screwed being caught here, had the Death eater not stared hungrily at the orb. The only leverage he had, was the glass ball he held. Harry wasn't afraid to use it.

"I'll drop it." The senior Malfoy's joy fell from his face as Harry raised his arm.

"You don't want to do that, Harry. " The man smiled, showing two rows of perfect teeth. Harry was pretty sure the only reason the man was being so civil, was because Harry had the advantage. The elder Malfoy continued to advance slowly. As if any sudden movement would cause Harry to drop it, or run. His arms were out and away from his body, trying to make himself seem less like a danger to Harry.

"Sirius isn't here." It was less of a question, more of a statement.

"My my, so you do have a brain. No. He isn't here, he never was. You should hope the Dark Lord never gets his hands on that degenerate." Harry scowled. "Now, give me," Lucius held his hand out. "The prophecy." It took Harry only a second to form a half-assed plan.

"No thanks- Stupefy! Nox."[3] The spell was easily deflected, but it gave Harry enough time to duck out of sight. Lucius hadn't had his light cast so they were bathed in darkness. Harry didn't truly have a plan at all, but winging it was one of his better talents. He felt along a shelf and quietly shuffled as fast as he could. He just needed to find the door. The moving door.

A shelf down someone muttered a quiet Lumos, and Harry realized that Lucius wasn't alone.

"Find him. Find him now!" Using the light from the other wizards' wand, Harry bolted down the skinny hallway. He hadn't always been the smartest, but he sure as he was fast.

"I saw him!"

"He's over there!"

A beam of light flashed over his shoulder, and he knew he was being chased. Lucius shouted something angrily somewhere to his left, so he turned right and kept running.

"Where are you ickle-baby-Potter? Come out and play!" Bellatrix's singsong voice rang out.

Why couldn't Harry just catch a break?

She started cackling, and it was the only warning he got before her body slammed into his. The force of the collision sent both straight into one of the many shelves, Harry held onto the prophecy for dear life while he fell off-kilter. His elbow smashed into a metal bracket, and some part of Bellatrix rammed into the back of his left knee, causing it to give out. Harry's right knee took the brunt of his weight.

The witch lost balance as well, landing on the floor beside him. She grunted loudly, before latching onto Harry's pant leg. He could feel her nails piercing his skin through the fabric.

"Give it to me. Give it-give it- give it !" Harry did the first thing that came to mind and used his free foot to kick Bellatrix in the face. He was granted a sickening crunch, and a shriek to follow.

"Get off!" he wound his leg and kicked again. Bellatrix let go of Harry in favor of shielding her face, which was now streaming blood from her nostrils down to her chin. She growled like a wild animal, and Harry knew he had only seconds. Getting up from the ground he limped painfully, trying his best to lean off his right knee.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement, and to his relief, it wasn't a Death Eater. Fortunately, it was the door, perfectly timed. He hobbled to his right, he was only ten feet away when an explosive white spell blew past him. It hit the rack of prophecies to his immediate left, and orbs began tumbling off.

They shattered one by one into masses of dust. The wisps of untold words started rising from the floor and disappearing, never to be read. They weren't the only falling objects, however, as the entirety of the shelving units started careening forward as well. The sound of the metal mixed with the glass clashing together was deafening, Harry had never heard anything like it. He pushed himself to go faster, ignoring his knee.

"What did you do?" Lucius was yelling, probably to whoever had thrown the spell. He'd bet all his money in his vaults that it was Bellatrix. He wasn't feeling lucky enough to turn around to find it out.

With the last bit of strength he had, Harry pushed the door. He was prepared to find the same hallway as before, with the lift at the end. What he was not expecting was there to be no floor at all.

He fell, instinctively holding both his arms out to catch himself before hitting the ground. Right before impact he simply stopped mid-air, suspended by some sort of magic before dropping the rest of the way safely. He laid there for a second, glancing at his hand that held the prophecy, his prophecy. It was fine. He wished he could say the same about his knee though.

The adrenaline decided that at this moment it was no longer needed. The pain blossomed, and he could feel his heartbeat under his kneecap. The spot just beside it throbbed ferociously, he most certainly tore something. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, and he choked out a sob. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. He didn't want to die here. He didn't want to die.

"Your tears are wasted here, Harry." Lucius appeared before him in a pillar of black smoke. Standing with his white mane, looking completely winded. Furious. Harry shuffled away as best as he could with his elbows before trying to sit up.

Lucius stalked towards him, his voice getting quieter once he spoke again. "This could all be over quickly if you'd just give it to me." Harry imagined that this was what his voice would sound like if he was trying to soothe Draco after scraping his knee after falling off his broom. "He can be merciful."

Harry didn't know what possessed him, but he felt rage curl in his chest.

"No!" The teen roared before he whipped the orb against the stony bed between the two wizards. It smashed, like the others, and the wisps of his prophecy floated away.

Instead of being angry, Lucius fell to his knees in a pathetic attempt to get closer to the dust. With an expression of grief, the man tried to salvage the pieces of the glass. It wasn't what Harry had expected.

"What have you done?" The Death eater whispered, clearly distraught. When his eyes looked up and met his, Harry could see the fear etched in them. He was afraid, and Harry understood why. This was his task, set out by Voldemort, and he failed it.

He wondered what was waiting for Lucius now, surely one could only fail the Dark Lord so many times.

"You will die." The blonde man's face turned fierce, the lines on his face aging him. Lucius stood up from his crouched position and took two long strides towards Harry, who could only sluggishly inch away. The elder Malfoy grabbed hold of Harry's arm violently, the next moment all Harry knew was smoke. He was wretched away suddenly, flying through the air. Lucius had half-apparated and pulled Harry along.

The teen couldn't see, and it was loud as the wind whipped past his ears. He was forcefully thrown to and fro, unable to get his bearings. Just when he thought he'd vomit, they stopped, and Harry was propelled forward out of the smoke. He was whipped hard enough that when he'd hit the ground ly slid a bit. It jarred his knee badly, and he painfully smacked the side of his face against the dark wood. They were back in the Atrium.

Harry cried out once again, attempting to move, to flee, to do anything. But Lucius had other plans and stepped onto Harry's back, digging his heel into the Boy-Who-Lived's spine, holding him down in a humiliating way.

"Now hush while I call your death, Potter," Lucius growled, and every fiber in Harry's being screamed at him to move. He knew what came next. He didn't even have his wand, he must have dropped it in the room after falling.

He couldn't see what Lucius was doing, but he could hear clothing rustle, and the man fell silent. Harry was about to tell the older wizard to sod off when a resounding crack filled the air. The change in atmosphere was immediate. Harry could feel Him, the magic was suffocating.

Lord Voldemort was here, and Harry had never felt so helpless.

Notes:

[1] and [2] are both direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Chapter 34 (The Department of Mysteries) - J.K. Rowling

[3] There is no solid evidence that spells cannot be cast while Lumos is activated. In the movies, Snape can use his wand to try and reveal the Marauders Map while using it. Considering Lumos needs to be deactivated by another spell, I'm taking liberty with it as a passive spell that stays put, but allows you to use other spells while doing so. Otherwise, Nox wouldn't work.