Twilight had fallen, and the sky slowly deepened into a hazy black.
Harry Potter clung tightly to the Thestral's neck. Only the lights of the Muggle town below allowed him to gauge how high he was and how fast they were moving.
He no longer remembered how much time had passed since the moment he saw Sirius lying on the floor of the Department of Mysteries… The only thing he knew for certain was that his godfather had neither obeyed Voldemort's order nor been killed. Either outcome would have stirred Voldemort's joy or fury, and Harry had sensed neither.
After who-knew-how-long in the air, they finally began to descend… Harry could see the dilapidated telephone booth ahead.
They crowded into the booth together. Ron shouted, "Dial 62442!"
Ginny lifted the receiver and pressed the numbers… As the telephone booth jolted, their field of view sank gradually downward.
"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening." With that crisp voice, Harry and the others officially arrived at the Ministry.
Steeling himself, Harry led the group onward… following the path he'd seen in his dream, drawing closer and closer to the Department of Mysteries.
Everything went eerily smoothly. They didn't encounter a single Ministry security officer on the way… The ease of it made Harry nervous.
Just like in his dream, they passed through the plain black door… then entered the massive circular chamber… and finally reached the room filled with dusty, slow-turning crystal spheres.
"You said Row 97," Ron whispered at his ear.
"Yes… we're close. Everyone stay sharp." Harry spoke quietly, glancing up at the silver numbers flickering beneath the shelves… "53."
They drew their wands and crept between the rows.
When they reached Row 97, they stared hard at everything around them. But what they saw didn't match the dream—Sirius wasn't there. No Death Eaters, no Voldemort.
"What's going on?" Ron whispered, voice shaking.
"I—" Harry faltered. He had no idea. Based on everything he'd experienced, Sirius should have been right here.
"Harry, your name is on this crystal ball," Neville Longbottom whispered, pointing to one nearby.
Harry stepped closer and looked down… The sphere bore a date, along with a line of text: "The Dark Lord and Harry Potter."
Harry reached out, bewildered.
"No, Harry…" Luna suddenly said. "I don't think you should touch it!"
"Yes…" Neville added nervously, nodding.
"It has my name on it…" Harry muttered, and he closed his fingers around the grimy crystal orb, gripping it tightly.
But nothing happened.
Except—
An excited voice rang from behind them. "Excellent, Potter… Now turn around slowly and hand it to me."
Lucius Malfoy.
...
A ring of twelve glowing wands surrounded them, all aimed directly at the group.
Twelve Death Eaters… led by Lucius Malfoy.
"Where's Sirius?" Harry shouted.
Several Death Eaters laughed. A sharp, piercing female voice shrieked, "The Dark Lord always predicts everything perfectly!"
Neville Longbottom went pale at the sound of her voice.
"I know you've taken Sirius… Where is he?" Harry forced himself to demand.
"You ought to learn the difference between reality and dreams, Potter." Malfoy gave him a disdainful glance. "Hand over the prophecy orb, or we'll kill every one of your friends."
"It's a trap!" Harry finally understood. He'd been fooled—his mind went blank.
"They're in Row 97!" a familiar voice called from the distance. "Surround them from different angles."
It was Dolores Umbridge… and for the first time in his life, Harry found the pink toad's voice almost pleasant.
The Death Eaters' faces shifted immediately. They exchanged uncertain looks with Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange.
A figure appeared between the shelves. He froze for an instant, then shouted, "This way!"
But Bellatrix Lestrange was faster:
"Avada Kedavra!" she shrieked.
A burst of green light flashed, and the Auror-disguised wizard fell to the floor, eyes open and lifeless.
"Damn it—Aurors… How did they—" the madwoman snarled.
"Get Potter—now!" Lucius Malfoy ordered.
But by then, it was already too late…
The appearance of the Auror had distracted the Death Eaters for a moment—and the five children in the center had already coordinated their plan.
"Now!" Harry shouted.
Four voices behind him roared, "Reducto!"
Four spells blasted out in four directions. When they struck the shelves, the rows of crystal spheres exploded, sending a storm of glittering shards cascading through the air like a rain of glass—
Chaos exploded around them.
"Run!" Harry yelled again.
They scattered in different directions between the shelves, using the confusion to escape the Death Eaters…
Meanwhile, the Aurors seemed to have arrived.
Harry didn't have time to count how many there were, but it looked like they outnumbered the Death Eaters several times over.
Aurors and Death Eaters clashed violently.
"Lestrange!" a man bellowed from behind Harry.
"Oh, Robards… long time no see!" Bellatrix shrieked. "How's your wife? I can still remember perfectly how I tortured her all those years ago!"
"Die, Lestrange—Stupefy!"
"Ha ha ha! Is that all you've got—Avada Kedavra!"
The two were locked in a vicious duel… but Harry kept weaving between the crystal shelves, clutching the prophecy orb and desperately searching for the exit to the Department of Mysteries…
"Harry!" A short, plump witch in a pink robe appeared before him.
Harry froze. It was the first time he'd heard Umbridge say his name like that.
Dolores Umbridge grabbed his hand and raced along the shelves. "Quick… with me…"