A/N: All previous warnings still, and will continue, to apply. Not for children or the faint of heart, or anyone sexually conservative. You've been warned.
Thanks as always to my amazing Beta, Hrymeigh, for going back and editing everything I've already posted before digging into new content.

We haven't made the review goal (believe we're off by one), but in the interests of not forgetting and posting late, since thanks to Hrymeigh we actually have a queue of chapters ready to post already saved on the website... here you go a few days early. :)

And thank you to all those who review, it really does encourage me to post the chapters sooner. :)
Enjoy!

Chap. 14: An Unexpected Occurrence

Monday dawned bright and warm, signaling the true arrival of spring at Hogwarts.

Unfortunately for Harry and the other fifth-years, it also heralded the arrival of the second week of Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations.

Starting with Harry's least favorite subject, and the one that he felt would be most likely to doom his hopes of becoming an Auror: Potions.

Yet, it was a subject he'd studied extensively over the weekend, and he had to hope that, without Snape there (and apparently kicked out of the school), the last few lessons he'd had with Healer Tonks would help his grade a bit.

It wasn't like the subject itself was horrid, it was mostly the teacher.

Or that's what a rather queasy Harry told Lilith when she'd offered to shag to help him relax. "Sorry, Lilith, I... I can't. I'm afraid I'll vomit on you. Um... this evening, when it's all over? A consolation... er..."

"Sure, Master," Lilith had agreed sympathetically, "Whatever you need. Um..." Then she had leaned in conspiratorially, "Your friend Ron seems less nervous... can I...?"

He nodded, and Lilith, smiling, hopped across the room, invisible wings fluttering as the others started to rouse, and slipped between Ron's curtains, drawing them closed. He heard her whisper, "Silence the curtains," before all sound from there cut off.

At least one of us will be able to relax...

At breakfast, all he'd been able to get down and keep his stomach calm was a single piece of toast, without even butter.

Harry felt numb with nerves and anticipation in equal measure as he rose with the rest of the students when Professor McGonagall again asked them to clear the Great Hall.

The written exam was about to begin...

The first few questions, he found, were relatively easy. Hermione had even covered the exact same subjects just Saturday: the differences and similarities between the various words for Aconite.

Question four: Describe in detail the effects of the Polyjuice Potion.

Harry grinned. Maybe this won't be so bad after all...

The Practical, unfortunately, had not gone as well. He hadn't melted or blown up a cauldron, like Seamus, or a Hufflepuff boy he didn't know, but his Draught of Peace was a little off-color, and slightly more viscous than intended.

Still, as the middle-aged wizard grading him bottled it up with a smile, Harry felt he could certainly have done worse.

The celebratory three rounds of sex with Lilith, while Ron and Hermione spent some time in the Room of Requirement, were enough to put Harry back in a good mood before bed.

Care of Magical Creatures wasn't a subject Harry was too worried about, either. While, in his heart of hearts, Harry could admit that Hagrid wasn't the best teacher, he really did know his subject, and Harry had always been interested. Maybe not in the Skrewts, but... it wasn't a boring subject, by any means.

He'd been able to accurately diagram a Bowtruckle, feed an ailing Unicorn (though for 'bonus points', he asked the examiner, a plump little witch that looked a bit like an older version of the substitute Care Professor, Professor Grubbly-Plank, why the Unicorn didn't just have one of its herd touch it with a horn to heal any disease or injury),

Among the other relatively easy tasks- though Harry had to wonder how common Fire Crabs were as pets if they were seen as a standard for care- Harry felt whatever score he got was well deserved. After his practical examination on the grounds was over, he noticed Hagrid watching nervously from the window of his hut. Wait… we're the first class he's taught by himself up to O.W.L. level. I should reassure him a bit. He's probably more nervous than I am. The half-giant's beaming smile in response to Harry's thumbs-up made it worth all the stress.

(O)(O)(O)

Wednesday afternoon was even more stressful. The day had begun with the Astronomy Theory exam, mostly dealing with tracking star-charts over the seasons and years, but with a significant series of questions related to the many Jovian and Saturnian moons. None of which, he was sure, were inhabited by mice.

Then, the one he and Ron knew they were going to fail going in, with no application of the subject in question necessary:

Divination.

An entirely practical exam, it had been scheduled this way simply because of the open slot created by the Astronomy practical exam being held at night.

Harry was standing next to Ron, who had been called in just moments earlier in the apparently random order the proctors were using now, and Harry's examiner was the elderly Professor Marchbanks herself.

The old witch had no time for wasting, she had said at the outset while he sat across from her at the small table she occupied, then instructed him to read her fortune with cards, then tea leaves- she had been predicted to meet a dark, soggy stranger, for which Harry felt a little ashamed at his lack of imagination- then read her palm. It had been an honest mix-up. How was he supposed to remember, in the heat of an all-important exam, which of the lines was the heart and which the head? At any rate, it had led to him predicting Professor Marchbank's death the previous Tuesday.

All of this, though, was nothing compared to the failure of the crystal ball, where all he'd been able to conjure up was, "Erm, I have never seen anything in a crystal ball, Professor."

"At least some honesty from you," Marchbanks had sniffed, "Very well, off you go."

Ron had followed disconsolately some ten minutes later, "Well, we were never going to get that one right... making it up as we go. Should have known."

"Probably," Harry conceded, "Um... same as last night?"

Ron shrugged, "I don't know. Hermione's... she wasn't really into it. Stress. Arithmancy's coming up..."

"Mm," Harry grunted, glancing around. He wasn't even particularly randy at the moment, but what else was he going to do until dinner? Study for History of Magic? Yeah, right...

The problem was, most of the girls Harry would have found available were either in class if in younger or older years, or still doing examinations.

So he sighed, "I guess I can talk to Hermione, but we do have History tomorrow... and we're both pretty tired. Maybe an early night?"

Ron frowned, "Yeah, I s'pose... study, then bed by eight. Get some rest in- last exam for us, right?"

"Well, Astronomy's practical," Harry reminded him.

"Oh, yeah... right. Late night, shite."

"Language, Mr. Weasley, one point from Gryffindor," a harassed-looking Professor Flitwick called as he hurried past.

Both boys sighed... it could have been worse.

The Astronomy practical did not have anything special about it, and Harry felt he'd done reasonably well, though he'd missed at least two moons in Ganymede and Callisto and merely left them blank on his star-chart, unable to find either in the night sky.

Would he be docked if they were on the far side of the planet...? Hadn't his theory said at least Ganymede was...?

In the end, Harry decided he really didn't care. Astronomy was a subject offered at N.E.W.T. Level, but he was aware that fewer than ten students took it each year, so Professor Sinistra just combined both years and alternated subject matter back and forth every other year, freeing up more time in her own schedule while still ensuring both years got the required education.

But he wasn't exactly planning on continuing the subject. He'd rather focus on things that might keep him alive.

Thursday was a blustery, cloudy day when Harry woke, but it promised to be clear and windy later, judging by the thin and increasingly thinner clouds scudding across the sky at breakfast. They had just a few more hours while one more round of elective examinations was held, then, immediately following lunch...

For him and the other fifth-years, it was the end of examinations.

The very last one. Or, as Ron said, trying to keep the atmosphere light for the tense students waiting while the Professors rearranged the Great Hall, "After this, the exams are History."

It had earned nothing but groans and eye-rolls, but it did help in relaxing at least Harry.

The exam was hampered, he felt, by being tired from the previous evening. Being up past nine was no way to get plenty of rest for a mentally tiring exam the following morning.

But he persevered, doing his best to answer question after question about more than a few Goblin Wars, the Treaty of Belgium, the Warsaw Warlock Armistice, and even the foundation of the International Confederation of Wizards.

Until the paper landed on his desk.

Unfamiliar writing, and the sharp-eyed Professor Tofty came over at once. "What's that, Potter? Cheating?"

"No, sir," Harry said, pointing at the thing with his quill, "I don't know who sent that, but it doesn't look related to the exam. Look."

In fact, while the old man reached to take the scrap of parchment, Harry tried to focus on the test still visible below it, and started scratching out another answer about the formation of the Wizengamot in Great Britain.

Then the paper flashed with a familiar, bright blue. "What's thi-" Professor Tofty began.

"Portkey!" Harry shouted, reaching out to snatch it from the old wizard's hand. A trap! It's a-

That was as far as he got before he touched it.

Just as the paper activated, all Harry could see was a terrified old wizard and a blur of whirling colors.

All around the Great Hall, students gasped in shock, and not a few adults.

Professor McGonagall was the first to reach the spot, and she, as acting Headmistress, immediately raised her wand, "Hogwarts, activate Lockdown mode!"

As the doors, windows and gates of the castle began to close, she lowered her wand, face more stern than any of the students could remember seeing it, and started casting into empty air where the wizards had been.

When Flitwick and Marchbanks, the proctor, arrived at the now empty desk, all the professor had been able to determine was, "A portkey activated, taking both Professor Tofty and Mr. Potter. I'm not sure where."

Hermione, Ron, and several other students shared a look of deepest concern, one mirrored by most of the adults.

Harry and Professor Tofty, however, had the briefest of moments when they arrived before two identical jets of red light hit them and they knew no more, though the spells were not incanted at the same time.

Harry had only the time to see the streak of red light and hear a male voice call, "There's another-" before all he saw was darkness.

Professor Tofty unfortunately, saw and recognized the faces of a few former students in the light of that first, red spell, and in his old age, was not able to draw his own wand in time to defend himself. He, too, fell to a streak of red.

(O)(O)(O)

When Harry regained consciousness, it was to pain. Not equal to that of a Cruciatus curse, but the sheer discomfort of having spent more than an hour tied in an uncomfortable position.

One he knew well, for he'd been tied that way before.

The surroundings, though, were no dark, misty graveyard outside a small countryside town.

No, Harry knew where he was. He had seen this in a dream before Lilith was summoned. He knew exactly where he was: beyond the door he'd been dreaming of all summer and most of the school year.

The Hall of Prophecy, in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries.

He was held upright, it seemed to his first glance, by ropes magically suspended in the air, with his arms above his head and ankles tied just as well, in the middle of a narrow hallway between what seemed like infinitely high shelves full of dully-glowing orbs, some brighter than others, a few that were dark, and even fewer that still had a bright glow, including one immediately ahead on his right.

Below that one, like all the rest, sat a placard.

Harry J. Potter and the Dark Lord(?)

Given to A.P.W.B.D. by Sybill Trelawney

Shit, he thought, That's what Voldemort's been after... a fucking prophecy between and about us. But why... why capture me and bring me here?

It wasn't a wonder to Harry who had done the deed, after all. Only one person had the motive, and just as he'd known it was a trap from the moment the parchment had flashed blue, he'd known who set it.

So much for ambushing him.

That was his last thought before Death Eaters, black-robed and masked, stepped out of the shadows and darkness.

Even with the mask on, Harry recognized the central, tallest figure by the long, silky, straight blonde hair hanging down both sides of his chest. "Lucius Malfoy, what a surprise. Imperious still holding, then, after all these years? Bit weak-willed, aren't you?"

(O)(O)(O)

At Hogwarts, Aurors had been called. The History examination finished early, with a commensurate reduction in points possible due to the time cut of nearly two hours.

The only person who seemed upset was Hermione, though that might also have been because Harry had been kidnapped under her very nose.

Why had no one warded the place against Portkeys?

That was the question on everyone's mind.

It was so simple a way to get at someone, to remove them from every protection available.

Why?

Hermione, Ron, they didn't particularly care.

Nor did the rest of the D.A., who, under Hermione's and Ron's leadership, had assembled in the Room of Requirement.

"You might've heard," Hermione said, voice projected through a sonorous charm, "Harry's been kidnapped from the Great Hall in the middle of our History O.W.L. We don't know where to. Our first mission is to find that out, through any means necessary. When we find out, we alert through the coins- standard emergency call- and assemble here again. Once we find out, we go and get him. Any questions?"

Several students had paled at the simple orders, but only one hand raised, that of Marietta Edgecombe. "My- my mum's in the- the Floo Authority. I might be able to find out if there's been any unusual traffic, or something."

"Do it," Hermione said curtly.

Others slowly came forward with idea after idea and were sent off to follow through in ones and twos.

Half of the D.A. was gone, when the situation changed suddenly, just before the bell for dinner.

"Mr. Potter... how nice of you to join us."

"Screw you, Malfoy," Harry said sarcastically, "Or don't- I don't think you're my type. In fact, I know you're not."

"Such arrogance," Malfoy's voice came through clearly from the hole in the mask where the mouth was, "Yet, I don't think it will last much longer. How simply did we get you, separate you from all but the most meager of protectors? They don't know where you are- no one is coming for you."

Lilith? Lilith, can you hear me?

Nothing.

Nothing from the Succubus, not even the faintest glimmer of her presence in his mind, though the connection, the Bond, was there all the same.

Lilith!

From Harry's left, behind him, floated the bleeding and broken body of Professor Tofty, who had apparently been kicked, hit, and occasionally hexed into unconsciousness, judging by the bleeding and the swelling bruises that indicated a few broken bones.

But he was alive, if the shuddering, gasping breaths were any indication.

That was something.

"Now, Mr. Potter," Lucius said softly, voice measured and toneless, as if he was asking for an ice-cream sundae or something equally harmless, "You'll take that ball there- with your name, the bright one- and hand it directly to me. If you do, you and the old man get to live. We leave you here to recover and we go on our way. If you don't..."

The smaller figure on Lucius' right raised a wand in an unusual grip, high over her shoulder and angled down, almost like a pen, and said with a high, female voice, "Crucio."

Harry winced, but the spell did not hit him.

Instead, Professor Tofty screamed, a high, gurgling sound, as his body convulsed in mid-air, and not with any semblance of pleasure.

The woman lowered her wand, and at once, the old wizard's screams cut off, replaced by gasps and whimpers.

"So, Mr. Potter," Lucius said, even quieter than before, or perhaps that was just an illusion brought on by Tofty's screams of agony, "What will it be?"

Lilith!

Not for one moment did he believe the Death Eaters would let him or Tofty go. The old man was a witness, if nothing else, and evidence, too.

Harry... Voldemort wanted him alive, but in his grasp to kill personally.

He knew that.

There was no way to walk out of here without a fight.

Lilith, damn it!

M-st-*-r? F**r a*w-y. W-re?

The thought was staticy, far-off, and as if through layers of water and air combined, but... something. Hall of Prophecies! I'm in the Hall of Prophecies, in the Ministry of Magic!

Apparently he'd taken too long.

Or perhaps the third figure, between the woman and Lucius in size, squat but thick, raised his own wand, "Percusso!"

The spell caused an almost bubble-like ring of air to shoot from the wizard's wand, impacting Harry in the stomach hard enough to throw him back two feet, where he jerked against the ropes and swung back, grunting in pain, all the air knocked from his lungs.

"Patience, brother," Lucius said, raising a hand to the other's wrist, pushing it down, "No need for that. Let the young hero decide for himself. Give us what we want, or watch an old man suffer. Either way, we win."

"No sport in 'at," the thick man grumbled, but complied.

"What- too weak to grab it yourself, Malfoy?"

Harry hated to hear the pain in his own voice; he really didn't want to show weakness to these three and who knows how many others there were in the shadows, but that spell had hurt. He didn't think there was much damage, and nothing internal, but it felt like one of Dudley's better punches to the gut, after he'd learned to throw a proper one.

"On the contrary, Mr. Potter, I simply wish to retain my sanity, that is all. You see, the only persons who can safely remove a prophecy recording from the shelves are those it is made to, or made about. Even your dear Divination Teacher could not remove it, though she gave the very prophecy in question. Isn't that interesting? You, the old fool Dumbledore, and our master are the only ones... hence, your illustrious presence in our midst."

"And you think I'd actually give it to you?" Harry snorted with real amusement, despite the dire situation. He'd already partially forgotten to see if Lilith had heard, but somehow, he held hope that help was on the way... somehow. Eventually.

If nothing else, stalling for time gave him time to think of something else.

"Oh, I know you will, eventually," Lucius said, voice snide, "Sister, dear, would you...?"

"Of course, dear brother," the female said, the wand coming up in the same pose. "Crucio!"

This time, Professor Tofty's screams did not let up for several minutes, while Harry was forced to endure the innocent old man's pain vicariously.

"So, Mr. Potter... can I call you Harry? You see, now, there's really only one choice, here. Because we all know you'll give in. So really, he's suffering for nothing."

Harry gritted his teeth, but said nothing.

(O)(O)(O)

Lilith flashed into partial visibility between Ron and Hermione. She knew no one could see her right now, only Harry could like this, but the other two could hear her, and fortunately, both knew her voice now. "Ron, Hermione," she hissed, "I heard Master's call. He's in a... I couldn't hear it clearly. There's interference, and distance, at work. A... A hall, I think. Prophets. Prophet Glee? I don't know."

Hermione, mind working overdrive, blinked at the sudden voice, then immediately whispered, "The Hall of Prophecy, in the Ministry of Magic?"

"That might be it, yes," Lilith confirmed, "It's worth a look."

Ron frowned, "How to get there, though. That's a long way off."

In the gathered students, a girl with hair as red as Ron's and even a little brighter, raised her hand, "Um, well, there's Umbridge's Floo..."

Hermione blinked, and ripped the page off the notebook she'd been formulating plans on, then started a new message.

A few seconds later, she stuck it to the table with a quick charm, then turned to the rest. "Right, off we go- if anyone asks, tell them to tell a Professor in..." she checked her own watch, "Twelve minutes from now. In fact, tell Professor McGonagall- and tell her the Bird Watchers are needed at the Hall of Prophecies. She'll know what it means. In fact- Dennis, that's your job. Go find Professor McGonagall, give her that message, then do what she tells you, okay?"

"I'm going with you! I can fight," the third-year cried.

"I know you can." Ron spoke over Dennis's and his older brother, Colin's, protests, "But right now, this is more important. Getting help from the Professors will save us if we get in trouble saving Harry. That's you saving your brother's life, if it comes to that, alright? Go!"

The thirteen year old gulped, swallowed, then dashed from the room.

"Alright, you lot," Ron ordered, "Follow me!"

Lilith, of course, obeyed, only flying invisibly and silently above both him and Hermione. Her Master would never forgive her if they got hurt saving him- and never forgive himself, either.

The mass of students behind them were treasured as well, but right now, it was just those two who mattered the most.

(O)(O)(O)

Harry flexed his head, neck and jaw, to work out the pain of his own Cruciatus curse. The woman, whoever she was, was truly vicious. Professor Tofty had begun to mumble incoherently, so she had switched to him.

But the orb still rested on the shelf.

Again, he screamed, and screamed, while knives twisted in each of his nerves, on top of their simmering in a lake of boiling acid.

Again.

And again.

The fourth time, the woman growled, "He's got some tolerance, I have to admit."

"No matter," Lucius replied, voice still calm, while Harry gasped, "He'll give in. If nothing else... Imperio."

Take the orb, the happy voice that washed through Harry said, You'll be so happy you did. It'll be very nice.

Harry, though, had more than a bit of experience with this charm himself, if not casting it. No, he repeated the phrase that had become his mantra the previous year, when the fake Mad-Eye Moody had cast it on him repeatedly, until he could throw off the curse completely. No, I don't think I will.

Harry's hand didn't even twitch toward the orb.

How could it?

The Death Eaters had not realized his hands were still both bound.

Harry laughed darkly- as long as they didn't think about it, he couldn't do as they wanted, not that he would.

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Hermione waited with baited breath while counting the students coming out of the Floo in the otherwise empty Ministry of Magic atrium.

Fifteen.

Fifteen students, plus her and Ron, against an unknown force of Death Eaters.

Not good odds... but all Harry had.

Hopefully, Dennis would be able to convince Professor McGonagall of the seriousness of the situation, given what had already happened, and get aid to them as quickly as possible.

If not... they were in trouble.

The security wizard, Ron pointed out wordlessly, was not present as they passed to the line of elevators going down into the Ministry. One more elevator ride to go... "Level ten," she informed the group quietly, wand and eyes alert for apparating witches or wizards, "If you see someone pop in ahead of you, stun first, question later. If it's behind- maybe see if it's a teacher or Auror, first. Stick together, groups no smaller than five. Together completely, if we can. Anyone know anything about the Department of Mysteries?"

No one raised a hand except Luna Lovegood, who said, "Rumor has it they're trying to bring down the Ministry from within. I haven't seen proof today, though- only yesterday. The situation is fluid."

Hermione didn't sigh, only gave the younger girl a firm look, "Right. Be on the lookout, and be ready. Don't attack if you can sneak up, though. Surprise is our advantage. Stay quiet."

So, in groups of six or seven using three lifts they moved down, down into the Ministry, straight to the bottom.

There, of course, they were forced to split up even further by a room that had begun to spin as soon as the door was closed behind them. She began marking the doors with a simple flagrate spell to mark the ones they had gone though already, and resumed looking for Harry.

All the while, Hermione's lip was worried. Almost as worried as she was.

In fact, that might have been blood...

She pushed the thought away. She'd been so cold to Harry, and what if... what if he...

No, can't think that, she told herself, pushing on, marking yet another door of the spinning room with a flaming X.

A/N2: Review, folks! New chapters posted monthly, but I will post early when I hit 15 reviews per chapter!

As some of you might have noticed, Ch11 did get 10 reviews after a few weeks, so I posted 12 early. Similar as always: As long as my beta can keep up, whenever we get 15 reviews or more on a given chapter I'll post the next one at least 2 weeks early. Didn't quite make the two weeks on 11-12, but it was still quite early. :)

Side note, I am aware that some of these chapters have been shorter. That is semi-intentional on my part, and for a few reasons. First, because it makes it easier for Hrymeigh. Second, because having the entire battle in the DoM- this version anyway- take place in one chapter would be huge. Third, there really hasn't been a better place to break the chapters into longer lengths where they 'should be'. That's just the way fiction goes sometimes. I am open to suggestions once people have read a few chapters past a place, but it's hard to judge in the moment. Doing the best I can. ;)

For those who might be interested, I now have a Pat(r)eon (and thanks, FFnet, for being obnoxious as always with outside links. And by thanks I mean I kind of hate you for it).
Here's the link: www . pat (r) eon KajaWilder ?fbclid=IwAR1Hp5avi-DbbxVF58c3Ctl9tgZEthIvPqujVeOBJS2bPWmwK_m_GhCbWMs

Delete all spaces as usual, and the () around the bit of the website name. You know the drill, it should work just fine.
And thanks to the anonymous (guest) reviewer who pointed out that the old link didn't work anymore, if it ever did. I've had issues with not making my page public for ages. Just put in a ticket with their customer support about it actually...

Glossary: