Neville
It was two versus two, except he and Parvati didn’t have wands.
On the other hand, Neville was armed with righteous anger and a grudge, and the idiot Owens was busy picking his nose. Literally. His wand was still pointed in their direction, but the tip was sagging toward the floor and his attention was otherwise occupied.
“Distract them,” he whispered, still pretending to hold a sniffling Parvati.
Her nod was tiny and hidden by the way her head was buried in his shoulder. Neville could only see one of her eyes. There were dark streaks from running makeup, but her expression was determined.
Seaton glanced out the window for a second.
“You freak!” Parvati suddenly shrieked, wrenching herself away from Neville.
His mouth dropped open and he stared at her. “I… what?”
“How dare you,” she gasped out, sobbing harder. “I—I thought—oh!”
“I’m… sorry?” he managed. This wasn’t where he thought this would go—
“What did he do?” Seaton drawled, like this was all the height of comedy.
“He touched me,” Parvati spat, retreating another step. The hatred in her expression was so real Neville actually winced. “Oh, Longbottom, if I had my wand…”
Seaton laughed. “Longbottom, c’mon, you should know better. Girls don’t take well to that sort of thing. I’m guessing you realized you’d never have a shot with anyone as beautiful as her, and took advantage of the situation?” He tsked. “Really, mate, you give men everywhere a bad reputation.”
“You can leave me the hell out of your little soirees in the future,” Parvati said, drawing herself up with another sob. “I am never working with you again, Longbottom! Or that horrid swot Granger, but especially you!”
“So this wasn’t the first little soiree?” Seaton said, attention on her. Owens’ was, too, although he still had one hand suspended near his face. “For sure?”
Parvati gave him a measuring glance, rubbing furiously at the tears still pouring down her face. “Y-yes, it was…”
“You’ll be excused from punishment, of course,” Seaton said, his voice soft. “For cooperating with the authority in this school. I expect you were just misguided… peer pressure can be so difficult, especially when you live with the perpetrators… but they’ll be expelled and you won’t have to deal with them ever again.” He glanced dismissively at Neville. “Least of all that toerag.”
“O-okay…” Parvati wrapped her arms around herself, eyes wide and wet and vulnerable. Her shoulders curled in. “I…”
“Yes?” Seaton said. His voice was eerily soft and reassuring. He stepped toward her, eyes traveling down the neckline of her robes, which Neville only now realized had been yanked low and to one side when she tugged herself away from him. “Parvati, right? You can trust me. I just want what’s best for the school.”
Owens had gone back to his nose. Seaton wasn’t looking. Now, Neville mouthed, and threw himself forward, tackling Seaton in one go.
There was a shriek and a thud from somewhere to his left—he and Seaton hit the floor hard, and the older boy grunted—Neville punched him in the face and threw himself across Seaton’s wand arm, pinning it to the floor—he ripped the wand away and kicked Seaton in the face and scrambled off to the side—
Parvati got up, panting. Her robes were even more rumpled than before and her hair was a disaster but her sobs and vulnerability had miraculously disappeared. In her hand was Owens’ wand.
“You idiot,” Seaton snarled. “You’ll be expelled for this.”
“Maybe,” Neville said. “But the curse on the Defense position will take Umbridge, and then where will all your power be?”
Seaton opened his mouth but Neville didn’t even give him the chance. “Stupefy.”
The spell was weak through a foreign wand, but it hit its mark, and Seaton slumped to the ground.
“Nice,” Parvati said. She Stunned Owens, too, and chucked his wand into the corner with a grimace. “Eurgh, that felt like working magic with a sponge.”
“Here.” Neville fumbled open Seaton’s robes and pulled their wands out of an inner pocket. He passed Parvati hers, jammed Hermione’s and Ron’s into his own pocket, and clutched his wand in his hand.
Pocket. The journals.
With a curse, Neville went through his other pockets, trying to remember where he’d stashed the journal. “Uh… Parvati, would you mind stepping outside for a sec? I need to take care of something.”
“What, jacking off?” she said.
Neville’s head jerked up. “What? No! Just… something.”
She huffed. “It was a joke. And… I don’t actually think you’d… you know.”
“I hope not,” he muttered. “It was clever. And it worked. Not like I care what this… toerag thinks of me. Oh, actually—incarcerous.”
Magical ropes wrapped up Seaton and Owens until they resembled caterpillars in cocoons. Neville considered for a second and then added langlocks and physical gags for good measure.
“Good plan.” Parvati sighed. “I’ll wait outside.”
“Thanks.”
Once the door closed behind her, Neville ripped the journal out of his pocket—
Parvati shrieked.
He jammed it away again and flung the door open, wand out—
“Hey, Nev,” Theo said, grinning. “Long time no see.”
“You need a hairbrush,” Blaise added.
Neville had never been more grateful to see anyone. “Oh thank Merlin,” he said. “How’d you know to come here?”
Parvati shrieked again suddenly, dancing back.
The Vipers looked down. “Whoops,” Blaise said. “The invisibility wore off…”
Eriss lifted her head and hissed imperiously at Theo. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, picking her up. She coiled around his shoulders like she usually did on Harry.
“Thanks,” Neville said. Eriss hissed something in his direction that was probably a you’re welcome or possibly yes, you should be grateful, knowing Eriss.
“What is that doing here?” Parvati demanded.
“Harry’s familiar,” Justin said.
“Harry P-Black has a snake familiar?”
“He’s a Parselmouth,” Luna said. “He was hardly going to procure a hedgehog.”
Parvati stared at her for a few seconds. “Right. Okay. Snake familiar. As you can see, we’ve got the situation under control.”
“Were you crying?” Pansy said, raking her eyes up and down the disarray of Parvati’s hair and clothes.
Daphne elbowed her.
“Fake crying,” Parvati said. “I had to distract your buddy Seaton. Should’ve known you snakes would tag along with Umbridge.”
Theo’s eyes snapped to the office door. “Seaton?”
“Yeah,” Neville said. “He and… Owens? Busted in on us when we were talking in an unused classroom, and dragged me and Hermione and Ron and Parvati to Umbridge.”
“Where’s Hermione?” Daphne said sharply.
“She made up a lie about a weapon we were building for Umbridge,” Neville said. “She and Ron led her off somewhere, I don’t know where she was going.”
Parvati gripped his arm. “Neville, can I talk to you for a second?”
He glanced at Theo, who tilted his head just slightly. “Yeah, sure,” Neville said, and let Parvati drag him down the hallway a ways. Theo or Daphne would almost definitely be eavesdropping with amplius auri anyway.
“Should you be trusting them?” Parvati hissed. “They’re Slytherins. Like Seaton.”
“They’re my friends,” Neville shot back. Merlin’s balls he was tired of this. “Okay? My. Friends. They were decent to me when Jules and his crew were picking on me all through third year, they’ve supported me and I them, and no, it’s not because they’re using me for Herbology homework! Theo’s near as good at it as I am and I’m sure you’ve noticed where Harry is in the class rankings, he doesn’t exactly need Hermione’s or my help. For Merlin’s sake Hermione spent half her summer with Daphne last year! So yes, I bloody trust them!”
Parvati stared at him for a few seconds.
Then she nodded sharply and marched back down the hall. Neville scrambled after her and caught a hurried wand movement as Daphne and Theo canceled their amplius auri spells. “Right,” Parvati announced. “Neville’s convinced me to work together. Something’s going down at the Ministry, and both Harry and Jules have gotten caught up in it, which means we have a common goal.”
“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” Theo said sardonically. “Assuming you can bring yourself to work with slimy snakes.”
“Neville and Hermione trust you,” Parvati said. “And I’ve never seen any of you, specifically, do anything awful. I’m also banking on the fact that I’m not stupid and I’ve seen how tightly the pack of you revolves around Black.”
Daphne snorted. “And what exactly do you think you can bring to this little expedition?”
“Never discount an extra wand,” Parvati said. “Also, I’m not helpless. We’ve had a group training in secret this whole year. If you give me fifteen minutes, I can round up some others to help.”
Silence stretched. Neville caught Theo’s eye and nodded a little. They could use the help.
“Not Pritchard or Creed,” Theo said finally. “And be careful who else you pick. We know about your little club and we’ve had some… issues with some people in it. You’ve never seen us do anything awful, we haven’t seen you do anything awful, but some of your little defense club members have.”
“Toby…” Parvati rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he’s got more righteousness than sense. I’ll be judicious.”
Theo nodded.
“We’ll need transportation,” Justin said. “Brooms?”
“Haven’t got enough. They upped the wards on the broom sheds after they banned Harry and the others, and we haven’t time to break them,” Daphne said.
“Thestrals,” Luna piped up.
Everyone stared at her.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Blaise mused.
“Can’t you only see those things if you’ve seen someone… die?” Parvati said.
“You can still touch them,” Justin said. “According to Hannah. Also, they’re good at finding places. If we can get blood to attract them…”
“Kitchens. House-elves,” Daphne said.
Parvati nodded. “I’ll go collect reinforcements. Meet outside on the lawn in twenty minutes—the exit by the base of the Astronomy Tower?”
“Works for me. Neville, Theo, take Eriss and find Hermione and th—Weasley,” Daphne said. Justin, Blaise, and Pansy took off with her at a run in the direction of the kitchens.
“Can you track them?” Theo asked Eriss.
She nodded and dropped down off his shoulders to the stone, moving fast.
“Shit, she’s going. Twenty minutes, Patil!” Theo said, and then he latched onto Neville and dragged him off down the hall.
“Why are you still here?” Parvati asked Luna behind them.
“I can get you into the Hufflepuff dormitories,” Luna said. “For Susan and Ernest.”
“How did you…” Their voices trailed out of earshot.
Theo huffed a laugh. “Guess Patil’s met the Lovegood intuition.”
“I wish her luck,” Neville panted. Eriss was really moving.
“Same, Luna gives me headaches on a good day.”
They both shut up after that, to concentrate on running. Eriss was fully grown to just over a meter long, and she could move fast.
Theo broke the silence when she stopped in front of the main doors. “I have… a bad feeling about this,” he said.
“Same,” Neville said.
Eriss hissed viciously at them just as Mrs. Norris yowled from the main staircase.
The boys locked eyes. “Go,” they said in unison.
Neville hauled open one door. Eriss slipped through, and then Theo, and then Neville followed.
The door slammed closed with eerie finality.
Daphne
“This is revolting.”
Patil looked at her sideways. “It was your idea.”
“I know.” Daphne carefully maneuvered the raw half a cow she was levitating through a doorway. “And it was a good one. It’s still revolting.”
“True.”
“Why do you have raw meat with you again?” Bones piped up from behind.
“You didn’t explain to them?” Daphne asked Patil incredulously. Justin snorted.
“I didn’t have time,” Patil said stiffly. “Just that we had to go help Jules.”
“And Harry,” Luna said.
Patil’s nostrils flared. “And Harry, yes.”
Patil had brought Bones, Macmillan, Roper, and Finnegan. Three Hufflepuffs and a Gryffindor, plus Patil and Weasley, once they found him and Hermione. Not the best reinforcements, not as good as the older Vipers, but like Draco, it was risky to ask them to possibly fight Death Eaters. Blaise hadn’t stopped side-eyeing the DA since they arrived, and seemed to be enjoying creeping them out.
“Why are we going into the Forbidden Forest with that?” Bones insisted.
Patil sighed and dropped back to explain. Daphne picked up the pace.
“Hey.” Pansy fell in next to her, eyes trained ahead.
“What is it?” Daphne said. Her thoughts were still tied up with worry for Hermione and Harry.
“I think I shouldn’t come.”
Daphne blinked at her. “Why ever not?”
“I’m not as powerful as the rest of you, magically,” Pansy said. Daphne didn’t bother with platitudes or lies; they both knew it was true. “My skills lie elsewhere. I’d be more useful staying here and covering for you lot if anything comes up. And keeping an eye on Umbridge, if anything’s left of her once Theo and Hermione are done. In a battle against full Death Eaters or Order members, I’d just be a liability.”
“Have you talked to Theo?”
“Haven’t had a chance.”
Daphne squeezed her eyes shut for a long second, since only Pansy was here to see. Once upon a time she’d looked down on the other girl for her weakness. Daphne was over that. Raw magical talent wasn’t everything. She didn’t want to lose Pansy in a fight. She also didn’t want to leave her behind alone. Or be the one who had to make these kinds of decisions.
“Fine,” she said finally. “It makes sense. Get the other Vipers together if you have to, keep an eye on the younger lot.”
Pansy nodded. “I’m going to see if Harry left the mirror connected to Sirius out, and if I haven’t heard anything by morning, I’ll contact him.”
“Clever.” Daphne hesitated. “Be safe.”
“You, too,” Pansy said. Her fingers brushed Daphne’s for a quick second and then she slipped away down a side hallway. There was a passage halfway down it that would get her to the dungeons faster.
“Where’s she going?” Macmillan demanded.
“Get your hand off my shoulder or I might accidentally dump this raw cow haunch on you,” Daphne said. He snatched the offending hand back. “She’s staying behind because we’re probably going to end up in a fight and her dueling skills aren’t the greatest.”
“That’s… mean. If you’re her friend why are you making her stay?” Roper said.
Daphne rolled her eyes. “It’s pragmatic, and it was her choice.”
“Anyone who thinks they can make Pansy Parkinson do anything is an idiot,” Justin added.
As Daphne had once witnessed Pansy’s aunt fail to keep her six-year-old niece from wheedling herself and five friends into the pantry unsupervised, resulting in four pies and two cheesecakes getting eaten and a huge party’s dessert course being ruined, she couldn’t help but agree.
Thank Circe the DA people kept to themselves after that. Daphne and Justin hurried along at the front of the group maneuvering the cow. Patil, the only one of this group Daphne had any real respect for, explained the situation in a quiet hurried voice.
“Any response in the journals?” Daphne said quietly.
“Not yet,” Justin said, just as softly. “Theo and Neville are probably still trying to track down the other two.”
If the hag hurt her… Daphne pictured Umbridge hanging upside down and gagged somewhere in acromantula territory. It was a pleasant image.
Also, if the hag hurt her, Astoria was going to be furious. Furious Astoria was no fun for anyone, least of all Daphne, who would have to listen to her rants and rage. Not that Daphne wouldn’t be outraged, but Astoria liked to yell.
Then Mother and Father might get involved… and as much as Daphne might like to see them take Umbridge apart piece by piece, she’d rather do it herself and save her parents going up against the Dark Lord by proxy. Children were more forgivable than adults, after all. She was allowed a bit of teenage rebellion.
Her hand tightened on her wand as they stepped outside into the cool night air. They’d run into Patil and her crew inside instead of outside like planned, so there was no reason to wait. All of them set off across the lawn in the direction of Hagrid’s hut. Luna led the way, skipping over the grass without a sound, blond hair flying behind her like a banner.
Theo
“Hermione!”
She whipped around in a defensive position, ready to dodge a spell. Weasley yelled.
“Chivalrous,” Theo drawled, strolling forward and swallowing his relief. He separated Hermione’s and Weasley’s wands and held them out, handles first.
“What are you doing?” Weasley said. “How’d you get that?”
“Parvati and I escaped Seaton and Owens,” Neville said. “Theo and the others were coming to help. We’ve got a rescue mission together, going after Harry and Jules.”
“Umbridge let slip that there’s something big going on and they’re caught in the middle,” Theo said, careful not to let on that they forced the information out of her. Or how. “We need to move.”
Hermione took off immediately. Weasley went crashing after her, scowling at Theo.
Too many fucking lions, he thought. Hermione and Neville embodied the good in Gryffindor traits but still. There was something to be said for good old-fashioned Slytherin self-preservation and pragmatism.
Weasley was just intolerable.
Up ahead, Hermione shrieked. Theo’s heart tripped and he shot forward, wand at the ready—
And almost slammed into a raw cow haunch.
“Daphne,” he said. “That is disgusting.”
“If we need raw meat for thestrals, then that’s what we’re getting,” she said, flicking her wand. The raw meat hit the ground in the middle of a small clearing.
“How’d you find us?” Neville said.
Daphne sneered. “Simple tracking spell aimed at Theo.”
Theo frowned. “Also, what of mine do you have to track me with?”
“Hair.” Daphne looked around. “I stole it out of your brush last year, just in case. How long before the thestrals show up?”
“Shouldn’t be long,” Luna said, peering into the shadows under the trees like something was looking back. Theo couldn’t see anything but he wouldn’t be surprised if Luna was actually having telepathic conversation with something only she could see.
The DA clustered together. Weasley ran back to them with obvious relief. Theo might have been insulted, except he didn’t care what Weasley thought of him. Roper scowled suspiciously at the Vipers. Neville flipped her off.
“Neville,” Theo said, impressed.
Neville shrugged uncomfortably. “She and I’ve never gotten along.”
“Unsurprising,” Daphne mumbled.
“Wait.” Theo looked around. “Where’s Pansy?”
“She stayed,” Justin said. “To hold down the fort and cover for us if she has to. Also, she’s not as good at dueling as the rest of us, and she thought she might be a liability if we’re going up against… trained adults.”
Hermione nodded, biting her lip. “It… makes sense.”
“Good call,” Theo said.
“Guys,” Blaise said softly.
Theo followed his gaze. Three thestrals had emerged from the woods, creeping cautiously toward the cow haunch on the ground, two adults and one half-grown.
“They’re here,” he said, a little louder, to attract the DA’s attention. All of them jerked and looked around a little wildly.
Only Theo, Luna, Neville, and Blaise could see the thestrals, which made getting people on them was a massive pain in the arse. Blaise stubbornly refused to go anywhere near the DA. Theo scowled at him and handled it himself, although he didn’t pretend to be happy about helping shove Macmillan and Finnegan onto the skeletal creatures.
“This is mad,” Weasley said faintly, as Neville wound his hands into the thestral’s mane. “Mad… if we could just see them…”
“Better hope it stays invisible,” Daphne sneered. She’d somehow managed to make sitting astride a thestral in robes and trousers look both elegant and perfectly comfortable, despite the fact that she couldn’t see it either.
Theo led one of them over to a tree stump and scrambled on last. There were other thestrals around the clearing, some of them lipping at the meat and some of them just watching their fellows with riders. “Good boy,” Theo murmured to his thestral, scratching its withers. “Or girl. We need to get to the Ministry of Magic visitor’s entrance. Can you get us there?”
For a second, it did nothing at all.
Thirteen pairs of knees tightened on their mounts.
In one rush of movement, the thestral crouched, leaped, and snapped out its wings. Theo clung to its neck and sides as it surged into the air. This was nothing at all like riding a horse, which he’d done a few times growing up; the movement was swooping and rocking and weird. But not entirely uncomfortable. And it was fast; they hurtled upward over the Forbidden Forest and reached the height of the Astronomy Tower in seconds.
The thestrals banked and aimed south over the castle. Theo squinted against the bloodred sunset to his right and leaned down to dodge the wind. They were moving as fast as he’d ever gone on a broom, although this was entirely a different experience.
“This is bizarre!” someone yelled behind him. It sounded like Justin. Theo pictured how weird it would be to move at this height and speed with no visible means of support.
Don’t die, Harry, he thought, mentally urging the thestral faster. He felt like it might have sped up but that also might have been his imagination. Don’t you dare die. We’re coming.
Harry
Their only warning was a faint thump from the corridor.
His and Jules’ eyes snapped up in unison. By the time the door flew open they were on their feet with wands out, ready to duel, but it was just Tonks.
“Come on,” she said, hair in violent orange disarray. She was breathing hard and her face was flushed. “We need to move—”
“Look out!” Jules shouted.
Tonks spun, but Harry got off the fastest shield. A jinx deflected into the stone across the hall.
“Stupefy!” Tonks shouted, followed by three more silent spells. There was a grunt and someone went down. “C’mon,” she insisted, grabbing Jules’ arm. “We need to move—”
Harry went after them, out into the hall. Yaxley and two others were unconscious on the floor, wrapped head to toe in ropes. “What’s going on?” he said.
“Plan worked, didn’t it,” Jules said, running.
Tonks paused to peek around a corner before they all turned it. “Yep. Too well, maybe—Order’s calling in backup but they’re bottlenecked in the atrium—we’ve got to move.”
“Move where?” Harry said, looking up and down the hall. He could hear distant shouts and spellfire from the direction the Death Eaters had come from but other than that it was dark and still.
“Away from the fight.” Tonks towed Jules along without giving him time to argue. “Neither of you should even be here. Jules.”
“I couldn’t let you do it,” he said.
“Yeah, really noble, hopefully you don’t die.” Tonks checked around another corner. “Good, we—”
“This way!” someone shouted behind them.
“Shit.” She launched into a run.
Harry paused to draw some hurried runes on the floor. He’d done it with his wand and not an anchor potion, so it was a relatively weak runespell, one that would knock the next four people to pass it unconscious for about twenty minutes.
Tonks glanced back at him. “Good thinking, but hurry. We need to find a way back to the surface to get you out of here.”
“No!” Jules snapped.
“Keep it down,” Harry hissed, jogging along with his wand at the ready.
“No.” Jules set his jaw in a mulish fashion. “I need to find out what the fuck is going on and getting—whatever Voldemort wants is part of that.”
“Nuh uh.” Tonks scowled. “I’m in charge of your safety which means we are not going where the Death Eaters want you to go! So help me Merlin I will Stun you and levitate you out of here if I have to. Are we clear?”
Jules scowled.
That’s a no. Harry resolved to keep an eye on Jules. He also really wanted to see what was down there, to hear the prophecy, but it was not at all worth dying. If it came to it he’d Stun and levitate Jules himself while Tonks cleared them a path.
This entire plan was stupid.
Spellfire blasted through the wall ahead of them and five people stumbled through, two Death Eaters and three Order.
“There he is!” someone shouted.
“Protego!” Jules said. An unknown curse died on his shield.
“This way!” Tonks said, diving into a side hallway.
Harry left another trap behind. This was a predesigned spell, not customizable like with runes, and more easily taken down because it was standard. It’d still help, at least a little.
They ran.
People chased them.
Harry kept close to the walls, elbows in and head down, minimizing the target. His heart kept threatening to choke him. Or maybe that was fear.
“No!” Tonks suddenly flung herself sideways.
A jet of red light hit her body and threw her into Jules. Both of them went down.
Harry slid into dueling stance without thinking. A masked Death Eater faced off with him. “Black,” the woman said.
“Lovely weather we’re having.” His grip on his wand tightened.
“Give us your brother and you can go.”
Harry responded with a silent, overpowered choking curse. It shattered through her shield and hit her shoulder. Jules got off an expelliarmus from the floor just as she undid the curse. The woman’s wand went flying into the shadows.
“Stupefy,” Harry said. She collapsed.
Jules struggled out from under Tonks. “What—”
“Up here!”
“Come on!” Harry said, grabbing Jules’ arm and yanking. “Come on, we have to go—”
“We can’t—Tonks!”
“Leave her, there’s Order people coming! Go!” Harry fired random curses and hexes back down the corridor at the boiling fight and the people sprinting toward them. Jules tugged back at Tonks for a few steps and Harry dragged until he gave up and started running.
“Fuck you,” Jules panted, voice ragged. “If she dies—”
“She took that spell for you.” Harry dodged through a random door, slammed it, threw an illegal locking curse at it because survival came first. “If you die she’ll have done it for nothing. Okay? Move.”
“Do you know where you’re going?”
Harry shook his head. “No idea.”
Jules picked the next turn. They came to a staircase; Harry looked up and heard the sounds of battle above.
“They’re behind us too,” Jules whispered, pointing back at the door they’d come from. “Searching the corridor.”
“Down, then,” Harry said.
It was a metal maintenance staircase, dusty and little used. Each of them cast Silencing Charms to keep their steps quiet as they descended.
“What do we do?” Jules whispered.
Harry glanced up over their heads. “Stay alive.”
For twenty or thirty minutes they crept through the bowels of the Ministry. Harry’s fingers began to hurt from clutching his wand so tightly for so long. Several times, he and Jules tried to slip out of the stairwell and find a way back up toward the surface, but there were people above them and always Death Eaters blocking the other routes as they searched. Distant sounds of fighting echoed down occasionally as the Order tried to find a way down to them.
“We’re being driven,” Harry said when it had been going on too long to be anything else. “On purpose.”
“They want us in the Department of Mysteries,” Jules muttered. “They want me to… get whatever it is.”
“Bait,” Harry muttered. “You voluntarily set yourself up to be bait.”
“Worth it.”
That didn’t even deserve a reply, so Harry didn’t offer one.
He was leaving another rune trap behind them when Jules stopped dead. “Uh… Harry?”
“What now,” Harry muttered, joining Jules at the door he’d just opened. “Oh. Okay, that’s… new.”
“Have you read about this place?” Jules said.
Harry stepped cautiously into the room, looking around. It was perfectly cylindrical with a number of identical doors outlined in harsh blue light around the edges. “No, never. Do you know it?”
Jules shook his head and followed him in. “But… I mean, it seems pretty Department of Mysteries-esque, don’t you think?”
“Fair.” Harry cast a few detection spells, none of which came up with a result. There seemed to be some kind of dampening ward. “I—no don’t close it!”
Jules lunged for the door he’d let go, but it was too late. The door fell shut.
Instantly the walls began to spin. Jules stumbled back, but the floor didn’t move; Harry squinted as neon blue fire burned into his eyes.
When the walls slid to a stop he blinked, hard. Ghostly afterimages lingered over everything.
“Well, that’s one way to confuse people breaking in,” he said.
Jules snorted. “It worked. I have no idea which door we came in. Um… sorry.”
“What’s done is done. I guess we just try them,” Harry said uneasily. ‘Just try random doors’ was not his usual style, but they didn’t have a better choice. Even if he tried detection spells odds were they wouldn’t work. “Pick one?”
“Here goes.” Jules yanked open the door nearest him.
Both boys’ wands were trained on the other side, but there was no one there, just a big room lined with shelves. A few tables were scattered around but the focus was on a giant tank in the middle full of floating whitish things.
“What in the hell…” Jules mumbled.
“Hold the door,” Harry said, creeping forward. Either the wards were down or didn’t care about him, because he didn’t feel anything, and as long as he didn’t touch the tank he thought he’d be fine.
“They look like maggots,” Jules said. “Or fish.”
Harry peered closer and then flinched back. “They’re brains.”
“They—what?”
“Brains.” The liquid in the tank was deep green and a lot thicker than water. The brains drifted around like slimy cantaloupes. “I think this is the Thought wing.”
“And we need Time,” Jules said. “Right? For a prophecy?”
“Assuming I guessed right.” Harry looked around at the other doors off of this room. Part of him wanted to explore and see what he could learn, since he’d probably never have another chance to poke around in here—but Mr. Weasley’s rune-scorched body reminded him that nosing about in the Department of Mysteries where you weren’t supposed to be was dangerous. It was far too big a risk.
“You probably did,” Jules said. “So… back to the blue door room?”
Harry nodded. It was a relief to leave the brains behind. Curiosity was great but he’d much rather not die.
“Wait,” he said suddenly, as Jules went to close the door behind them. “Flagrate.”
He slashed his wand through the air. A line of orange fire burned its way into the door they’d just come from.
“Brilliant,” Jules said, letting the door fall shut again. The walls immediately began to spin again, but this time there was a blur of normal fire among the blue, and when they stopped his mark was still there.
“Your turn?” Jules said.
Harry shrugged and chose a door opposite the marked one. They couldn’t go back, not with all the people there; might as well keep going forward.
Even if he was wrong about the prophecy there might be something else down here they could use as a weapon or to escape.
The next door was large, dimly lit, and rectangular, with a sunken pit in the middle and four rows of tiered benches around the sides. An ancient, cracked, crumbling archway with a veil hanging in it stood on a raised stone dais in the middle of the sunken section.
Even though the air felt perfectly still, the veil moved slightly.
“Ooohkay,” Jules said. “Are you creeped out right now?”
“Yep.” Harry bit his lip. “I don’t like the look of that arch.”
Jules nodded tightly. His grip on his wand was white-knuckled.
Harry peered around. “There’s other doors, but… I don’t think this is Time. I—Jules?”
“I hear whispers,” Jules said. He was off before Harry could grab him, clambering over the benches and down onto the floor.
Crap. Harry conjured a tiny rock and propped the door open before he went after Jules, in case they couldn’t get back out that way once it closed. He caught up to his brother just as Jules put a foot on the edge of the dais.
“Stop!” Harry grabbed Jules’ arm and hauled him back down. “Whoa—where are you…”
“Don’t you hear them?” Jules said urgently.
Harry opened his mouth to ask just what the fuck Jules was hearing, but then a tiny whisper caught on the edge of his hearing and he turned to stare at the veil. “What… yeah. I do now. Whispers?”
“It feels like someone’s on the other side.” Jules’ wandless hand opened and closed convulsively. “Just standing right there.”
“Not possible,” Harry said. The arch was taller than it had looked from up above, and the veil seemed like it should be sheer and translucent but it wasn’t. Maybe that was just the dim light. He circled the dais slowly. “There’s no one else here.”
But he felt it too. Like there was someone just there that he should be able to reach out and touch.
“I wonder…” Jules slid his wand away. His voice was slower than usual. “What would happen if we walked through it?”
“I don’t know.” Harry studied the veil. He had the same urge. The fabric would part at the touch of his hand, he was convinced—just let him walk through even though it seemed like it was all in one piece… and on the other side, there were people waiting for him…
Except, no. They had other things to do—and the people he just knew were in there, waiting for him, they weren’t his people. They didn’t matter.
Harry closed his eyes and Occluded as hard as he could, clearing his mind until nothing but himself was left. The urge to step through the veil was foreign, but so close an imitation he almost couldn’t tell, and if he let himself think about it for too long it started to creep back…
Jules shook his head violently. “The—prophecy. This isn’t… Time, is it?”
“No,” Harry said, stepping back. Jules moved in tandem with him. Neither of them was willing to turn their back on the veil, which suddenly seemed sinister instead of fascinating. The farther Harry got the weaker its pull became. “I think it might be—Death.”
“So if we… you know…” Jules gestured at the veil.
“I don’t know.” Harry swallowed; his throat was dry. “I don’t want to know. Let’s go.”
He left the veil room behind with relief, marked its door, and once the walls stopped spinning, Jules chose a third.
It was locked.
He and Harry exchanged a glance. “Think this might be it?” Jules said.
“The odds of them locking the one door we need are pretty low,” Harry said, “but let’s try.”
Alohomora failed. So did three other spells, all of which Harry was mildly surprised Jules knew. They were legal, barely, but pretty advanced. He’d been studying. Then from behind Jules, Harry cast a few less-than-legal spells, but they all failed too.
“Let’s leave this one,” he said finally. “We’re wasting time—who knows how far behind us they are?”
Jules sighed. “All right. Mark it?”
“Flagrate.”
When Jules opened the next door, Harry whistled.
“Yeah, I think this is it,” Jules muttered.
A towering crystal bell jar at the opposite end of the room sent clear white light lancing around the room. It reflected and refracted off hundreds of clock faces and metal pendulums. Harry squinted against the glare and made his way inside cautiously, wand at the ready. Hundreds of timepieces from wristwatches to grandfather clocks were standing or resting around the room. A relentless chorus of ticking came from its every corner, just loud enough to be both unnerving and impossible to ignore.
“I don’t like it,” Jules said flatly.
Harry bit his lip. “Those clocks…” He bent closer to a tiny, jewel-studded pocket watch. “It’s reading the wrong time.”
“Let’s keep looking,” Jules said.
There was only one door out of the room, which made it easy to decide where to go. Jules was the one to find it behind the bell jar. Both brothers paused to watch as, in the heart of the jar, a tiny egg hatched into a chick that swelled to a full-grown jewel-toned hummingbird, and then sunk back down and returned to its egg form, all in a matter of seconds.
Part of Harry wanted to stick something else in the jar just to see what happened. Most of him knew this was a terrible idea. He didn’t even have to say it out loud; Jules looked just as unsettled and happily moved on.
The room on the other side was as tall as a church and just as echoingly silent. Rows of shelves full of dusty glass orbs filled it, marching away to their left and right. The door shut behind them and Harry had never felt quite this—alone, or inconsequential, in his life. Even the Dursleys cared enough to hate him. This place was—it didn’t care about him, and it never would.
“So… what are these?” Jules said, prodding one of the little glass orbs. It didn’t react to his wand. “This one’s labeled… Guillaume Tiphaine, 1385?”
A chill ran down Harry’s spine. “I think we might actually have found… prophecies,” he said softly. “Or recordings… something.”
“These are older this direction,” Jules said from one row over to the left. “So we go right if we’re looking for mine.”
“Not necessarily. If it’s marked by the year it was delivered, and not fulfilled, then it could have been ages ago,” Harry said. “Plenty of prophecies wait centuries to happen.”
Jules looked around at the tens of thousands of glass orbs. “Fuck.”
Harry recalled the wand movement he needed. “Revelio Julian Potter’s prophecy.”
A glowing light leaped from the tip of his wand and drifted away down the central aisle to their right.
“C’mon,” Jules said, as if Harry would do anything else.
“Okay. But we have to hurry. I doubt there’s another way out of this place—we need to figure out how to hide until it’s safe to sneak out.”
Jules waved this off. Harry cursed Gryffindor recklessness in his head as he followed his twin between the shelves.
Dim candlelight let him read the numbers on the ends of the shelves. 53… 58… 67… 81… 92… 97.
Jules darted down row 97 after the orb. Harry paused before leaving the central aisle, looking left and right and listening hard. There was no sign or sound indicating anyone else was in here with them.
His skin crawled. They were not safe here.
“Jules,” he said softly. “Jules, we need to hurry.”
“Just a sec,” Jules said absently. “It’s got my name on it…”
Harry hurried down the aisle and found him standing in front of an orb at about the height of Jules’ navel, labeled S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D., Dark Lord and (?) Julian Potter. Its internal glow was dull and yellowish, unlike most of the others near it, which were blue-white and stronger.
“Don’t touch it,” he said sharply. Where had he seen those initials before? “It’s probably warded to high hell or something.”
“It’s got my name on it,” Jules repeated, awed, and before Harry could stop him he’d reached out and picked up the orb.
Idiot, Harry almost snarled, but nothing bad happened. The glass ball just sat innocently in Jules’ hand. Its dull inner light didn’t so much as flicker.
Jules stared at it like it was a saint come to Earth, holding it up to his face, and in the light of the orb Harry could see his expression.
Vindication.
Harry felt sick.
“Very good, Mr. Potter,” a drawling voice said right behind them. “Now turn around very slowly and give that to me.”
Theo
The Ministry was trashed.
Theo clambered out of the visitor’s entrance and stared around with wide eyes. How the Aurors and Hitwizards hadn’t shown up yet he had no idea, because there’d clearly been a fight here. Spell tracks gouged the marble floors of the Atrium and someone was lying unmoving by the fireplaces.
“So… follow the trail of destruction?” Finnegan suggested.
“Fantastic,” Blaise said. “Just what I wanted to be doing with my evening.”
Several of the DA glared at him, but the Vipers ignored this. It figured that they wouldn’t appreciate Blaise’s sarcasm.
“Eriss can help,” Daphne added.
Theo knelt and let the snake slide out of his robes. Several of the Gryffindors made eep noises of surprise. “Black’s familiar,” Patil explained quickly, and several of them made faces. Theo didn’t care.
“Can you lead us to Harry?” he said.
The snake dipped her head and stabbed downward with her tail.
“He’s beneath us.”
She nodded again.
“Great. Let’s to,” Daphne said.
Theo led the way. The battle had split up and diverted into almost a dozen different hallways, but the general progression was down. The students followed the marks in silence. Theo’s heart pounded in his chest. Harry was down here somewhere, had been involved in this somehow.
“It seems to be aiming generally down and in,” he said after a while.
“Trapping them,” Weasley said.
Theo glanced at him, remembered that for all his classroom idiocy and narrow mind, Weasley was actually a good chess player. A strategist. Of course he’d seen the pattern, too. “Right. Herding, so they’re pinned down. We have to get them out.” Harry, of course, but also Jules, because Harry didn’t want him dead.
Stupid family soft spot. Theo was just glad James Potter had very firmly removed any chance of his disowned son ever caring about his wellbeing ever again, because Theo considered Harry a brother but he also refused to ever help the Potter Lord, on principle. The Boy Who Lived was enough of a stretch.
Bones eyed the hallway they were led towards. “The Misuse of Cursed Objects office is down this way.”
“Don’t steal anything,” Daphne sneered.
Roper shot her a disgusted look. “Seems like we’d have to watch you for that.”
Theo kicked Daphne to shut her up. They didn’t need to alienate people who were technically, temporarily, on their side.
Well. Any more than they were already alienated.
Hermione drifted back to jog next to Theo. Neither of them spoke or so much as looked at each other. Her wild hair bounced in his peripheral vision, though, and Theo cursed himself for getting attached; it would only be a hindrance in a fight. And in the long run, really, but he had to allow himself some weaknesses.
Even though it galled him to admit.
Theo caved and sneaked a peak at her. Daphne and Patil were venturing down a side hallway to check a body slumped against the wall; Hermione had paused to keep an eye on them. A few of the others were searching ahead. Theo should be watching their rear or something but…
He didn’t know what this thing was between them, what he felt for her. He knew he found her attractive. That wasn’t enough for a relationship, though, and they’d never made anything—official. Just… circled, flirted, snogged a few times. Dipping their toes in but never really committing.
Deep down he suspected he knew why. Theo shook that thought out of his head. Later. This was so the wrong time for introspection.
Daphne and Patil came back. “Death Eater,” Patil said, face pale. “I don’t recognize him. He’s Stunned.”
Avery, Daphne mouthed when no one else was looking.
“Let’s keep moving,” Theo said.
But as the others set off again, he slid back. Daphne caught the movement and nodded, lips tight. Theo cast the strongest Notice-Me-Not he could on himself and ran back to the downed Death Eater.
After taking the man’s wand and wrapping him in magical ropes, Theo stepped back. “Renervate.”
Avery’s eyes fluttered open and he groaned. “Wha the fuuugh… Theo?”
“Hi,” Theo said. “Is my father here?”
“…might be.”
Theo sighed. Fuck. He’d know Father when he saw him, and Father would know him, and the Death Eaters would avoid the Nott Heir and anyone with him, but it was still an issue. “We don’t have a lot of time. What are your orders regarding Heir Black?”
“Uh… we’re not supposed to fatally or permanently curse him.”
“Potter?”
Avery blinked. “Not kill. We’re here for—something else. Except—well, Potter is…”
“Great.” Theo chucked the man’s wand down the hallway. “That’s so you don’t nail me from behind. You understand the precaution. Don’t kill any of my friends.”
Avery stared at him. Theo rolled his eyes and sprinted off to catch up with the others.
“Take care of that?” Daphne asked softly, still lingering at the back of the pack.
Theo nodded tightly and cast a soundless anti-eavesdropping charm. He could only get a few spells nonverbally but he’d made sure to drill them all so he could do it in his sleep.
“Avery’s a decent guy.”
“He’s Father’s friend,” Theo said tightly. “I—he was supposed to be my sibling’s godfather if Mother hadn’t…”
Avery stopped coming around for a while, because all the un-imprisoned Death Eaters had to lie low. He’d still been a fixture in Theo’s childhood, showing up a few times a year for dinner with him and Father, and he’d always sent them each a Yule gift. In a household that got few visitors, to a boy whose few friends were similarly isolated thanks to an untenable political situation, those visits were priceless. Theo trusted him as much as he trusted any of Father’s friends. Which was not a whole lot but enough to believe he wouldn’t hurt Theo, and hadn’t lied about their goals for Harry.
“They’re not here for Harry,” he said quietly.
Daphne glanced behind them. No sign of Avery, yet. “But if Harry gets in the way…”
“No.” Theo shook his head. “They’ve been ordered not to permanently or fatally curse him.”
“Well then.” Daphne’s eyebrows ticked up. “That’s… surprising.”
“Not really. You know who Harry’s tutor is… Dark Lord wants him.”
“He won’t get him.”
Theo shot her an annoyed look. “I know, we’ve talked about this, remember? Fourth side.”
“But sympathetic to the Dark,” she countered.
“I know that, too. Look, this is not the time.”
Daphne made an irritated noise but let it drop.
Theo took down the anti-eavesdropping charm as they approached the main Ministry lifts. “All the way down?” he asked Eriss. “Tap the floor twice for yes.”
She tapped the floor twice.
“Figures,” Blaise said.
“Department of Mysteries is the only thing down there,” Bones said.
Theo stepped into the waiting lift and pressed the right button. “Guess we go down to the Department of Mysteries then.”
Harry
“No,” Jules said immediately.
Harry studied the Death Eaters. Their masks and hooded robes were charmed to prevent others from recognizing them by hair or face, but no one had warded the things against voice yet. That was definitely Lucius Malfoy at the front. August company.
Including Malfoy, they were facing off against eight Death Eaters. Harry was glad he’d kept his wand out. They were hopelessly outnumbered. Sure, he was an uncommonly good duelist, even without accounting for his age—but he’d never been in a battle. These were trained adults with loads more experience. He’d trained since the graveyard but he and Jules still would be lucky to escape.
“Psh,” someone said. “Accio pro—”
“Protego!” Jules roared. The glass ball slipped to the ends of his fingers before he caught it.
“Oh, widdle baby Potter knows how to play,” a woman at Malfoy’s right said mockingly. “Does Black? Are you living up to your adopted family, ickle Harry?”
Someone snorted. It was oddly familiar—
“Wait,” Jules said. “So it is a prophecy.”
“Circe on a hippogriff, Jules,” Harry said before he could think.
Laughter rippled through the Death Eaters, one of them a bit louder than the others. Harry’s head snapped in that direction and his eyes found a lithe man off to one side, slightly separated from the group. His face was hidden and the Death Eaters’ loose, unconstricting robes made it hard to determine body shape beyond gender, but Harry knew that laugh—
“You didn’t even know what it was you sought,” Malfoy sneered. “How predictably Gryffindor.”
“The Dark Lord always knows,” someone else jeered.
“That he does!” The woman laughed, high and piercing. “Hand it over, widdle Potter.”
“I said no,” Jules said.
One of the Death Eaters took a step closer. “Don’t,” Jules said, stepping back. “Or I’ll smash it.”
The man off to the side made another derisive noise. “Gryffindors shouldn’t lie, boy, we know you want to know what it is near as bad as the Dark Lord does.”
Harry’s stomach plummeted to his shoes even though he’d known, really. It took quite an effort to keep his emotions off his face. That was Barty.
Possibly the one Death Eater he’d hesitate to curse to save himself, if it came to that.
“Well, then.” The woman flicked one wrist in a sinuous movement. Her wand leaped into her hand, solid with an unusual curve to the handle. “We’ll just have to provide some incentive, won’t we, siwwy widdle one? Good thing you bwought your bwother along, mm?”
“No!” Jules roared.
“Crucio!”
Harry stepped aside and sneered at her as the spell shot past. “Honestly. A firsty could’ve dodged that.”
The woman laughed again. “Widdle baby Bwack has a bark! Does your bite match?”
“Keep threatening me and you’ll find out,” Harry said, smiling the way he’d learned to unsettle older Slytherins.
She cocked her head and examined him.
“Forgive her,” Malfoy drawled. “I’m sure you know, Black, just what effects long-term dementor exposure can have. Particularly when one cannot gather a large staff of the finest Mind Healers in Britain at St. Mungo’s.”
“Bellatrix, then,” Harry said. “I’m flattered.”
Jules made an aborted movement. Harry kept his eyes trained on the Death Eaters but his mind was spinning, looking at all the angles. They were too far from the end of the shelves to dive into one of the next aisles over. Barty being here complicated things a lot—he knew Harry, knew how Harry would react and fight. Granted Harry knew the same thing about him and probably about Death Eater fighting tactics in general, but still.
Malfoy shifted his weight.
“Told you not to underestimate him,” Barty said. Harry could hear his evil grin.
Jules trod on Harry’s foot, hard. In the shadows, and under their robes, it’d be almost impossible for the Death Eaters to see.
Bellatrix flicked her mask with one finger. It melted away into thin air and she pushed back her hood, revealing wild hair that curled into corkscrews instead of frizzing like Hermione’s tended to. She cocked her head like a bird or a predator and looked Harry up and down.
“Smash shelves,” Jules hissed, barely audible.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “So are you technically my aunt now?”
“—when I say go—”
Bellatrix cackled. “Quite the family reunion.”
“Bet you’re happy to see a halfblood Heir Black,” he said, hoping to rile her, or keep her talking.
Or just learn something.
“Blood matters,” Bellatrix singsonged. “I hear your ability makes that a moot point.”
“Enough talking,” Malfoy commanded. “Potter, hand over the prophecy now, and we will allow you and your brother to leave unmolested.”
“Unmolested?” Harry couldn’t resist saying. “Really? The Dark Lord’s stooping to hire child predators? I mean, I know the Prophet thinks you lot are a bunch of unredeemable rampaging sadists, but that seems a bit much—”
Bellatrix’s high cackle cut him off. Barty’s shoulders twitched—Harry suspected his was holding in his own laughter.
“Maybe not the best choice of words,” someone else said. The voice was smooth, polished, and heavy. Lord Nott.
Malfoy sighed sharply. “Potter, has Dumbledore never told you the reason you bear that scar lies in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries?”
Jules froze. “What?”
Harry cursed internally. Malfoy had hit on the one thing that might have kept Jules frozen there. Apparently Draco’s sixth sense for a person’s weak point was hereditary, whatever other flaws the Malfoys taught or bred into their children.
“I—what?” Jules said. “This has to do with… Voldemort and me?”
A few Death Eaters shifted. “You do not deserve to speak that name,” a woman spat.
“I’ll say it if I want,” Jules said recklessly.
Harry elbowed him hard.
“Each of you bears a remnant of that night fourteen years ago, one the symbol of a deflected curse, the other a wound left by residual magic,” Malfoy continued softly. “Black, well, your scar is a standard curse wound, a leftover from being too close to volatile Dark magics, but Potter… you are another story entirely. The Dark Lord hoped you would come here. When we heard about the Order’s pitiful little ploy, we knew your foolish Gryffindor recklessness had shown itself.”
“So he wanted me to come and get it,” Jules said. “Couldn’t he just do it himself?”
“Idiotic boy,” a woman said. Harry was pretty sure he recognized Lady Parkinson’s voice. It was like the graveyard all over again. “The Dark Lord would hardly compromise his anonymity for this. No, it’s you he wants.”
Another person raised their wand, half-hidden behind Malfoy. “Stu—”
“Go!” Jules shouted.
Harry fired off three nonverbal reductos in three different directions. Jules’ voice bellowed out from his side. The shelves came crashing down around them; shards of glass flew everywhere. Prophecy orbs smashed and ghostly figures swirled up from their insides, talking in layers of overlapping eerie voices.
Jules and Harry took off running. Harry dragged Jules back in the direction of the door. If they could get out, he could barricade it with some lock spells that would take even a Death Eater a minute or two to unravel, buy them time—
A masked face lunged out of the smoke. Jules elbowed it hard. Someone grabbed Harry’s shoulder; he released a blast of raw wandless magic in that direction shaped with intent to free himself and the hand let go at once.
He bolted through the door. Turned around and raised his wand.
Jules was not there.
Fuck. Harry quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm and stuck his head back into the prophecy room. Jules was nowhere in sight but the Death Eaters were congregating less than four meters away. Harry froze.
They had an anti-eavesdropping charm up, but it was one Harry had seen in a Dark Arts book he borrowed from Viktor in fourth year, and he whispered the countercharm that would let only him hear.
Malfoy’s voice rapped out orders. “—pairs and search. Jugson and Rodolphus—Crouch, with Bellatrix—Parkinson and Nott—Rookwood, with me. Remember, Black is not to be permanently harmed, and play gentle with Potter. The Dark Lord wants him alive and the prophecy undamaged, in that priority order.”
So they weren’t that concerned with the prophecy. Interesting.
Harry pushed those considerations aside as two figures came toward him. He didn’t know who they were and didn’t particularly care. He was going to leave them behind, not permanently injured if he could manage it, and he was going to find Jules and get the hell out of here.
They got closer. He retreated and hid under a desk near the bell jar.
“They might’ve run straight through,” an unfamiliar voice commented.
“Maybe. Check under the desks.”
Harry knew his Disillusionment wasn’t good enough to render him truly invisible. He shifted a little until he had a clear line on one Death Eater from the knees down.
As the man started to kneel, Harry aimed and fired off a silent Stunner. He collapsed in silence.
“Hale!” Someone else got closer.
Harry fired again but this one was smarter and had a shield up. A curse came back his way instantly, one Harry didn’t recognize. He threw himself aside. The spell hit a cabinet full of hourglasses, which crashed to the ground and shattered—
The Death Eater cast again, and again. Harry blocked both curses and responded with a silent choking curse. It connected, and while the man was taking it off Harry managed to land a weak petrificus totalus on him.
He didn’t give himself time to stop and process. They’d made a lot of noise. Harry turned and looked at the cabinet of hourglasses, which had reassembled itself and then crashed again and started the cycle over.
On the way out, he stunned the Death Eater.
The door to the spinning room wouldn’t open. He assumed it was in use and backtracked hurriedly.
Just in time. It slammed open. Another Death Eater in a mask lunged through, spells already firing. Harry flew backward through the air and hit his head on the wall hard enough to make stars fill his vision.
Distantly, someone shouted a curse.
Harry winced and forced his eyes open. He already had a headache and probably a minor concussion. The Death Eater was collapsed in a moaning heap. And—
“Theo?” Harry said. “What did you hit him with?”
“Nothing nice,” his best friend said, dragging Harry to his feet. Behind him were Justin, Blaise, Neville, and Luna, all looking slightly the worse for wear. The familiar bond pulsed and he registered Eriss, dropping off of Theo with less grace than usual and streaking for his feet. Harry picked her up and she wound herself tightly around his neck and torso, not speaking, just there.
“How are you here?” Harry said. “Have you seen the Order or Jules?”
“Thestrals, once we’d taken care of Umbridge,” Blaise said. Theo’s smile told Harry all he needed to know for the moment about how they’d taken care of Umbridge. “Daph was fending a couple of people off, took a curse. Hermione went back for her. They went to Floo to Greengrass Manor for help.”
“DA’s here,” Neville added. “We split up—Bones got us down here with a shortcut she learned about from her aunt, then once we were past the main fight we came looking.”
Harry nodded, getting a grip on his relief. “Jules is still down here somewhere. There’s a prophecy about him, the Death Eaters want him and then the prophecy, in that order. Unharmed.” He saw Theo and Blaise promptly resolve to threaten Jules’ livelihood if they had to distract anyone. “I don’t know where he is. We need to find Jules and get out.”
A shout and a crash came from the spinning door room. “That’s the fight,” Neville said urgently. “It’s not far behind us.”
I can tell. “Come on, then,” Harry said. “Notice-Me-Nots.”
The murmur of spellcasting followed him. Harry and Daphne were the only ones who could cast a proper Disillusionment so far, and Daphne wasn’t there, so he checked they’d rendered themselves hard to notice, led the way back into the prophecy room with his heart thundering a steady tattoo in his chest. Eriss constricted one more time and then used his leg as a way to get down to the ground, disappeared into the shadows under the shelves. He could feel her location and deadly intent. “Careful,” he said. “Try not to give lethal doses.”
“It’s as if you think you’re talking to the loud carrot boy’s rat.”
Harry shoved fond irritation at her. This near, emotions could be sent through the bond easily.
He went left, in the direction he’d last seen Jules going. Echoes bounced around the hall but they were all quiet and indistinct and useless. Harry tasted fear like acid and swallowed it down. They weren’t here to kill him or hurt him.
Just Jules. His brother. His Gryffindor prat of a twin. Harry didn’t know what he would do if it came down to the Death Eaters giving him a chance to walk away and leave his brother.
It wouldn’t come to that. He wouldn’t let it. They would get Jules and leave the Order and Death Eaters to fight it out. Harry had trained hard but he was a teenager and he did not belong here.
None of them did.
He did know that between Jules and any of the other DA members, he’d save Jules in a heartbeat.
Jules
“What are you doing here!” he hissed, because he couldn’t yell.
Parvati frowned at him. “Saving you, come on!”
“I don’t need saving!” he said, following her anyway.
Seamus and Ernie took potshots at something from around a corner. Seamus waved them on. Sophie and Suasn vanished around the corner with Ernie.
“Clearly, you did,” Parvati said, referring to the three unconscious Death Eaters they’d left behind them in a room full of identical black stones lined up on shelves around the walls. Jules hadn’t touched any.
“You still shouldn’t be here,” he said. “It’s dangerous! I can’t risk you!”
“Stuff it,” Ron said, hustling them around the corner. There was a Death Eater Stunned on the floor; Jules stomped on their hand on the way past. “We’re here now. Black’s whole crew, too, we teamed up.”
Jules tripped. “You teamed up with Slytherins?”
“And Neville, Hermione, Finch-Fletchley, Lovegood,” Parvati said. “Neville vouched for them.”
“Right.” Jules shook his head to clear it. “No, if Harry trusts them I trust them—” he’d just keep telling himself that—“I was just surprised you agreed, is a—”
“Down!” Sophie yelled. Jets of spellfire snapped out of a side corridor. One hit Parvati and threw her into the wall.
“Got her!” Ron shouted, grabbing Parvati by the arm and towing her along. “Go!”
Jules fired wildly into the group of people suddenly chasing them. He heard a grunt, hoped one of his spells hit, couldn’t stop to check. They thundered down the hall. Susan was bleeding wildly and being half-carried by Sophie; Seamus couldn’t seem to stop hysterically cackling. Jules hit him with a silencio while he had his wand free.
“Expelliarmus!” someone shouted. Jules clutched his wand but the spell didn’t hit him; Ernie shouted and dove, chasing his wand.
They hurtled into a room full of desks and what looked like a floating model of the solar system. It was dark and lined with doors. “Close them!” Jules said, slamming shut the one they’d just come through. “Colloportus!”
“Colloportus!” several voices said. Doors slammed. Sophie hurriedly conjured bandages to wrap around a tottering Susan’s shoulder; Ron let Parvati slide to the ground and lunged for a door. Seamus still shook with panic and silenced laughter.
“Collo—aagh…”
Jules whipped around. Saw Ernie go flying backwards into a wall. Three masked Death Eaters poured into the room.
“Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy! Expelliarmus!” he shouted, flicking his wand seamlessly through the movements. One of the Death Eaters got knocked back by the impedimenta but the others got through; Ron’s nose broke with a crack and he gurgled out a scream.
Jules’ wand went flying.
He dived behind a desk.
“Stupefy!” Susan cried weakly, but her aim was spot-on and one of the Death Eaters went down. “Accio wand!”
She tossed it back to Jules and sat down hard on the floor, white-faced. “Look out for her,” Jules ordered Sophie, then jumped out from behind the desk. Parvati had woken up and looked shaky but determined. Ron was crawling towards his wand and clutching his broken nose.
He and Parvati jumped up against the last Death Eater. “We’ve got him!” the man shouted, dueling nonverbally. And he was good. “In a room off of—”
“Silencio!” Parvati shouted desperately, and it sneaked through but the damage was done. Jules heard shouting through the closed doors. It was only a matter of time before they found another way in.
The Death Eater snarled and slashed his wand down through the air. A jet of sickly purple light hit Parvati in the chest and she crumpled without a sound.
“No!” Jules shouted, throwing himself even harder into the fight—cutting curses nicked his elbows, hip, ear, but he didn’t stop—the bastard was toying with him—
He stumbled and by the time he looked up the Death Eater had his wand trained on Jules’ face. Jules stopped, breathing heavily. The Death Eater ripped off his mask and smiled a horrible grin.
“Dolohov,” Jules snarled. “I saw you. Happy to be out of Azkaban, huh? Back with the bastard that let you rot there this whole time?”
Dolohov laughed soundlessly. Everyone else was down or out. For a second it was just him and Jules. He pointed at the prophecy in Jules’ hand, then at Parvati, then himself. His meaning was clear: hand it over or you get the same as her.
“I don’t think so,” Jules said, trying to think. Panic was making it hard. “You’re not allowed to kill me. Voldemort wants to do it himself.”
For some reason that made Dolohov laugh again. He pointed, more insistently, at Parvati, and Jules realized with a sick feeling that Dolohov could just keep hurting her. He refused to look at Parvati’s still form.
If she was dead it was his fault.
“Waddever you do, don’d gib it to hib, ‘ules,” Ron said thickly.
There was a crash from the door—Dolohov turned to look—Jules seized his chance. “Petrificus totalus!”
Dolohov’s arms and legs snapped together and he crashed to the floor.
Jules instantly aimed at the person who’d just burst in, and lowered it just as quickly. “Hestia?”
“Hurry!” she said. “Episkey—Accio wand—Ron, here—renervate. Stasilus. Someone levitate her.”
Ron clutched his wand and plugged his nose, which wasn’t bleeding as hard. Ernie woke up and Susan shakily got to her feet with Sophie’s renewed help. “I can levitate Parvati,” she said firmly.
Her wand shook a little but she got the spell off fine so no one argued.
Hestia gestured back towards the door she’d burst through. “This wa—”
“Got them!” someone screamed, and more Death Eaters poured into the room.
“Go!” Hestia shouted, engaging them. Her gray hair was coming out of its bun and for some reason Jules fixated on that tiny bit of disorder. “Find the Order, I’ll hold them off!”
There were only two. Jules stopped to help but Sophie and Ernie grabbed his arms and dragged him away. “No!” he shouted. “Hestia—we have to help—”
“’ules, cobe od,” Ron bellowed.
They pounded down this new corridor, slammed into the room of spinning blue-lined doors. The orange fiery lines had disappeared. Jules stopped and stared around. He’d hit his head at some point and he felt kind of woozy. He shook his head to clear it. “Which way…”
“Here,” Sophie said, shoving a door open at random as shouting came from behind. Jules shoved Ernie and Seamus through, and turned back—
Another door flew open. “HA!” Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked, leading a crew of four more Death Eaters. Stunners flew. Jules hauled Sophie and Susan through; Parvati was sucked along in their wake and Ron paused to shoot off a spell behind him that connected but then another spell hit him. He stopped and almost dropped his wand.
Jules grabbed Ron and dragged him through the door. He was just in time to slam it and lock it in Bellatrix’s face.
“Ha ha,” Ron said, grinning, “Le Stande, she sure is a strande one, idn’d she ‘ules…”
“What happened?” Ernie gasped.
“Something hit him and he—Ron, no—”
Jules was too late. Ron had already reached out and touched the tank of floating brains—
One of them shot through the glass like it wasn’t there. “No!” someone shouted, but the tentacles were wrapping up and down Ron’s arms while he laughed hysterically—
“Diffindo! Diffindo!” Jules cast wildly. He could tell he was slashing up Ron’s arms a little but the brain drifted back as the tentacles fell apart, it was working, it was helping.
“Jules, it’ll suffocate him!” Sophie screamed, just as the door flew open and a jet of light hit her in the face. She collapsed.
“Stupefy! Stupefy!” Ernie cast, waving Parvati’s wand at the Death Eaters. His spells fizzled halfway there. Jules didn’t know what was going on but everyone was down or injured and it was his fault all his fault.
Holding the prophecy high over his head, he sprinted across the room. It was five Death Eaters against him and whoever was left. The only thing Jules could think to do was draw them away. They wanted him, and they wanted the prophecy, and that meant they’d follow him.
It seemed to work. When he glanced back he saw the Death Eaters chasing him but it was really hard to hit a moving target with a wand while also running, and he was fit and fast from years of Quidditch. A few of them tried to cast but it went wide and they resorted to just running.
Jules ran a few feet into the next room and felt the floor vanish.