He pushed open the door at the end of the corridor and found himself in the circular room. It was empty.
He knew that he ought to make good his escape, but at the same time he knew that there was something here, within the Department of Mysteries that he desperately desired. Something which he was sure held the key, the explanation of exactly what went wrong on that fateful Halloween night nearly fourteen years previously…
His other self, his true self sought this thing as well. This was his chance to get it. He needed to know the truth. He needed the hall of prophecies.
One of the doors in the circular room burst open and the group entered, but there was no sign of Harry's body.
"Where's he gone?" asked Sarah.
"He could be anywhere by now," replied Croaker.
He turned to a few of the unspeakables that stood gathered behind him "Frobisher, Bagwell, take a team and scour the other levels of the Ministry. Amelia, perhaps you should go with them and alert the Aurors.
"Right," replied Madam Bones before turning and leaving, accompanied by a group of eight Unspeakables.
Two more doors had opened, and the Unspeakables that came through each confirmed that there was no trace of an escapee in any of their sub-departments. Croaker quickly set about organising search teams. In that time another five groups had arrived, confirming that there was no sign of the escapee in any of their sub-departments.
Voldemort had not found the prophecy room right away, but the sound of running footsteps had forced him to duck through the door nearest to him. He loathed running instead of killing, but at the moment he was unsure how much he could stand to take in this new form, and now was not the time to try.
While the door had not led him directly to the hall of prophecies, it had been kind to him. Only three Unspeakables had been in the room when he had arrived. Not trusting himself to be able to aim the killing curse properly, he had instead opted for a wide area debilitation spell. The three Unspeakables were down and out before they could fire a curse at him.
He had sealed the door shut behind himself and then taken the opportunity to have a quick look around. Ignoring the bizarre bell jar which contained a rapidly aging and de-aging humming bird, and ignoring the innumerable clocks that decorated the room, he approached a large, glass-fronted cabinet inside of which were stand many hundreds of small hourglasses. He opened the doors and took one out. It had a thin golden chain attached to it.
He knew what this was. It was a time turner.
Just as he was thinking about how fortune had always favoured Lord Voldemort, the door leading to the circular room exploded inwards. The suddenness of it all, combined with his shaky at best control over the body he was in made Voldemort drop the time turner in surprise. It smashed apart at his feet, but there was no time to worry about that now.
Nor was there time to grab another. A large group of Unspeakables had entered the room and had opened fire upon him. Voldemort managed to get a shield up as he launched himself towards the only other door leading out of the room.
He scrambled through it and sealed it shut behind him.
He staggered around for a few steps and then realised where he was.
He had walked straight into the hall of prophecies.
Row upon row of towering shelves stretched off in every direction for further than his eye could see. Upon these shelves sat thousands upon thousands of small, dusty glass orbs.
They were the recordings of every prophecy ever made since the beginning of magic.
Now all he needed to do was to find the prophecy relating to himself and the boy whose body he currently possessed.
There was only one problem, there were countless orbs to check, and time was not currently on his side.
He raised his wand and incanted "Accio prophesy."
Nothing happened. Deciding to be more specific he incanted "Accio prophecy referring to Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter." Still nothing happened. Apparently the easy way was not going to work.
The door behind him gave a loud groan, signalling that someone was trying to get through.
Quickly Voldemort disappeared deep into the aisles between the shelves.
Behind him the door gave way and the Unspeakables entered. All around the enormous hall other doors were opening too.
Harry was now back before his eyes, but could not regain control. They were like windows that were six feet away from him, and he could not get closer. He was managing to fight against Voldemort just enough to keep his spells from becoming deadly, but he was struggling to gain any more control than that.
There had to be something, anything that could be used to loosen Voldemort's hold upon the control of his body, but he had no idea what that could be.
Voldemort raced between the aisles, his eyes scanning the shelves, checking for any sign that might tell him which prophecy was the one he sought, and all the while he listened for the sound of anyone getting too close.
Three Unspeakables appeared at the end of the aisle. He shielded against their curses, and then knocked them all off their feet. Another rounded the corner and aimed his wand.
Voldemort fired the killing curse, but it went wide, though it was enough to convince the man to back down. Voldemort turned back to the shelf behind him, his red eyes scanning furiously for some sign of the prophecy he was looking for.
"Harry?"
He spun around and saw the woman who had tried so hard in recent days to be to Harry Potter what his mother had hoped she would be.
She had her wand raised, but showed no inclination to fire a spell.
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