Chapter One: The Phoenix Crest

Calm. Relaxed. All worries gently washed away. Saul Croaker smiled vaguely as he wandered through the Department of Mysteries and up to Level Two of the Ministry of Magic. A seminar for aurors had just finished and people were milling about. Everything would be alright. He just needed to find Harry Potter. And there he was, up ahead with Ronald Weasley. How fortuitous.

The war heroes were wearing red robes, the particular shade of red denoting them as auror trainees. It clashed terribly with Weasley's hair, Croaker thought with an uncharacteristic giggle. Their backs were to him as they strolled through the halls, chatting.

"…-smeade this weekend, to see her," Weasley was saying.

Potter nodded, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. "I was thinking about heading that way, myself," he said, cautiously.

Weasley's eyes narrowed, and Potter's widened in alarm.

"Potter! Weasley!" Croaker interrupted their impending argument.

Potter spun around, his red robe swirling majestically, with a look of relief and gratitude plastered across his face. "Yes, sir!" he said, automatically. Then, looking questioningly at Croaker's Unspeakable robes added, "How can I help you?" Weasley directed one last suspicious glare toward his friend before turning his attention to Croaker.

"If you have a moment, I could use your help sorting out a bit of mess in the Department of Mysteries. I understand you visited a few years ago?"

Weasley gulped. "Er…" he looked at Potter's haunted face with a grimace. "…yes, we did…" he trailed off uncertainly.

"We've sorted most of it. Took quite some time, oh yes. But there are still a few things that are…curious," he said. "We could use your assistance." He looked expectantly between the two young men.

Weasley and Potter shared a look between themselves. A twitch of an eyebrow, a slight shrug of the shoulders. Potter breathed deeply through his nose and Weasley said, "Sure, yeah. We can swing by and take a look. Only…" he paused and grimaced again, "…d'you reckon we need to see the brains?" he asked.

Croaker smiled vaguely. "No, no. No need to see the brains," he assured them. Weasley sighed in relief, and they followed him to the lift and deep into the bowels of the ministry. Croaker chatted pleasantly with them along the way of trifles.

"Ah, here we are," he said as the lift clattered to a halt, the golden grilles sliding apart. Weasley stepped out with him as a cool voice announced, "Department of Mysteries," but Potter remained behind, staring at the black door at the end of the hall, his face pale.

"Ron…" he whispered, shaking his head.

Weasley looked back toward Potter and muttered an oath under his breath. He entered the lift, leaving his leg in the doorway to keep it from closing and rising again. He put an arm around Potter's shoulders and whispered something to him, too low for Croaker to hear.

Croaker wasn't worried. He waited patiently. All is well.

A moment filled with whispered conversation passed and a look of determination came over Potter's face. Both men exited the lift and strode determinedly toward the black door. Croaker bowed them through. Upon entering the Addlechamber, the men's steps faltered and Weasley groaned. "I hate this room," he said.

"Me too," Potter whispered. Both men shut their eyes as the walls spun, causing the blue-flamed candles to create brilliant blue streaks of light until the room settled.

Death Chamber… go to the Death Chamber… A small voice insisted quietly in a dark corner of Croaker's brain. The faintest feeling of alarm registered and he questioned, why?

Death Chamber…

Croaker raised his wand and said, " Tempus Invenio!" A blue light traced out the shape of an hourglass on the third door to the left. "This way, fellows," Croaker said, striding toward that door as DEATH CHAMBER echoed fiercely in his mind.

"Blimey," Weasley breathed. "That would've been useful…"

When he opened the black door, they were met with a beautiful, sparkling light reflected from the many surfaces of clocks. Potter groaned.

GO TO THE DEATH CHAMBER

Croaker twitched. "There's another…we need to…just through there…" Croaker twitched again. "But first…" Weasley eyed him suspiciously and, for the first time since descending to the ninth level, Potter's expression changed from grim determination to concern.

"Mr. Croaker, are you alright?" he asked.

DEATH CHAMBER

"I just…but first…look, there!" Croaker garbled, pointing to a shelf. He twitched again.

"Steady on, sir," Weasley said, cautiously. Potter approached the shelf to which Croaker had pointed.

CRASH!

Wands were drawn reflexively and Weasley looped an arm through Croaker's, holding him in place. A glass-fronted cabinet full of hour glasses had tipped over and shattered. Potter's eyes scanned the room rapidly, knuckles white against his wand. "Oh!" he gasped as the cabinet sprang up to the wall, fully mended.

"I remember that happening," he said, glancing back to Croaker with chagrin. "It wasn't me, exactly, but I was there. Er…sorry."

CRASH!

Potter winced. Weasley let go of Croaker's arm, though he kept his wand in hand.

DEATH CHAMBER

Potter turned toward the shelf again, ignoring the eternally crashing cabinet. Croaker twitched and Weasley stared at him with open distrust, tapping an index finger on his wand that was, thankfully, still pointed toward the ground.

"What did you want me to – oh," Potter paused. He reached cautiously among the time-centric curios and plucked a small hourglass from the shelf. He stared at it in his hand for a long moment before looking questioningly to Croaker. "What is this?" he asked, his voice odd.

DEATH CHAMBER, NOW!

Croaker twitched again. "Not sure. Not exactly. But it seems meant for you," he rushed. Much calmer, he said, "Now, come this way. This is where we need your help." He beckoned toward the door and back to the Addlechamber.

"Can I see?" Weasley asked, holding his hand out as the walls spun around them again. Potter handed over the curious hourglass, brows furrowed in consternation. It was small, dwarfed in the palm of Weasley's callused hand, and filled with tiny glittering green gemstones. There was a crest on the hourglass of a phoenix holding a snake in its beak and a lightning bolt in its talons.

The walls stopped moving and Croaker lifted his wand. " Mors Invenio!" he incanted. A blue light traced the shape of a circle with a line crossing horizontally through it. "This way," he said. Potter and Weasley trailed after him, looking down at the hourglass in Weasley's hand and muttering amongst themselves.

Relief washed over Croaker. He was calm and relaxed, now. Everything was as it should be.

He led them forward and down a few steps before they realized where they were. Potter's head snapped up. "Do you hear that?"

Weasley looked around, "Yeah, what –" he cut off with a gasp as they spotted the tattered veil suspended from the crumbling arch. "Oh no. No-no-no-no-no! We shouldn't be here. Harry!" Weasley tugged on Potter's arm.

"Sirius," Potter said, dreamily. "Can't you hear him? And Remus?"

Weasley paused, cocking his head. "Actually…I can almost…is that Tonks, too?…and Fred?!" He dropped Potter's arm and walked with him, down the stairs of the amphitheater and to the dais upon which the veil stood. "I can't…I think that's Lav and Colin…what are they saying? I can't make it out!"

"I'm not sure…" Potter reached forward slowly, fingers inches from the veil.

A door slammed open from the top of the amphitheater, causing all three men to jump.

"Mr. Croaker!" Croaker looked up to see Junior Unspeakable Truman approaching quickly, nearly tripping over his robes in his haste. "Mr. Croaker!" he called again. "So sorry to disturb you, sir! But there's a sandstorm in Mongolia! We might be able to harvest – Oh! Harry Potter! Ron Weasley!"

Lapsus…

Truman approached the visitors with his hand outstretched. "You might not remember me, but I was a prefect when you started at Hog- woah!"

Croaker surreptitiously sent a nonverbal tripping jinx toward Truman. The Junior Unspeakable tripped and flailed, crashing into Potter, who then stumbled backward. Croaker watched calmly, as if time had slowed down. The bespectacled young man looked startled as he fell backward through the veil.

"HARRY!" Weasley thrust his arm out, trying to catch one of Potter's limbs. The tiny hourglass, forgotten, flew from his hand and shattered at Potter's feet. Glittering green gems rolled underfoot and disappeared through the arch with Potter. The veil fluttered back into place, Harry Potter no longer a part of this world.