Back in the dark room, the doors moved yet again (but not until after Hermione had placed another fiery ‘X’ on it, of course). Next to Luna, Ron leaned over to Hermione and asked quietly, “What do you think that arch was?”
“I don’t know, but something dangerous.”
Meanwhile, Harry was approaching another random door. He pulled on the handle, but this time the door didn’t swing open in response.
“What’s wrong?” Neville asked.
“It’s locked,” Harry replied with obvious irritation. He seemed on the verge of a mental breakdown. And you couldn’t blame him. His closest almost-relative had been (potentially) kidnapped by the evilest guy around. And Luna also suspected there was more to it. She’d seen him occasionally clench his teeth and hold his lightening scar in pain. Nightmares could be plaguing his sleep. He had said something earlier about knowing where Sirius was because of a dream. Who knew? Said evil-doer could be trying to invade his mind, for all she knew! Whatever it was, if it was the scar, You-Know-Who was probably behind it.
“Okay, let me try,” Hermione said, barging through. “Alohomora!” Luna wasn’t really that surprised to find that nothing happened. The Department of Mysteries probably made opening a locked door a little bit more difficult than casting an elementary spell at it. It was a mystery meant to be solved only by those meant to solve it.
“Sirius’s knife!” Harry cried, pulling some knife-like contraption out of his pocket. He tried inserting it into the crack between the door and the wall, and pushed. The only thing that happened was the breaking of the knife, the handle left in Harry’s hand, deserted by its blade. The door dared not budge. Harry frowned.
“Let’s try another door,” Hermione said.
“But what if this is the one?” Ron cried incredulously.
“In Harry’s dream he could always get into the room.”
As Hermione began enchanting the door with another ‘X’, Luna began to wonder what the Ministry could be hiding behind that locked door. Perhaps the army of fiery heliopaths, creatures made of fire that destroy everything in their path, that her father had told her the Ministry was hiding was in there!
“You know what could be in there?” she said eagerly, curious to see if they could guess or agree.
“Something blibbering, no doubt,” Hermione mumbled rudely. Neville even gave a little laugh. Luna fought the urge to glare at them both.
Before she could continue, she was interrupted by the opening of another door.
“This is it!” Harry cried, relief and fear evident in his voice.
Inside were hundreds of shelves filled with thousands of glowing, sparkling, glass bubbles. Each had a little handwritten label in quill ink on yellowed parchment. The room was iridescent. The shimmering rainbows lit up the room like a kaleidoscope only held up half-way to the light—not fully bright.
“C’mon!” Neville, called to Luna, already thirty paces away. They had all raced down the aisle while Luna had started in awe at what was around her. She ran to catch up, and the six jogged, Harry in the lead. Then they all slowed. Luna did not realize how cold it was until they did. The air was frigid. Harry began looking frantically at each number written on the shelves.
“Eighty-four…eighty-five…eighty-six,” Harry murmured, reading the numbers to his right.
“You said that it was number ninety-seven,” Hermione said, softly.
“Wands out, everyone,” Harry said as he rushed by number eighty-nine.
Luna whispered a little “Lumos,” to her wand, and its point lit up the space around her. The others followed in suit. They all were silent except for Harry’s murmurs. No noise other noise could be heard. Luna began to wonder if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was even there at all.
“Ninety-six…Ninety-seven,” Harry whispered, breathlessly. They all halted.
There was no sign of Sirius Black or a certain Dark Lord.
“Harry! Come look,” Ron called out.
Harry, who had drifted down the aisle in search of his godfather, returned in a heartbeat. Ron was pointing to an orb on the 97th shelf with his name on it, along with the Dark Lord.
“Why is your name down here?” Ron looked around at the other orbs nearby. “No one else’s name is.”
“I-I don’t know,” Harry stuttered, confused. He reached out to pick it up.
“Harry,” Hermione interrupted, “I don’t think that you should touch it.”
“Why not? It has my name on it.”
“Don’t do it, Harry,” Neville said. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his eyes were round with fear.
“I have to know,” Harry said, ignoring their comments. He wrapped his fingers around the dusty little ball, and picked it up. At first, nothing happened. Then, contrarily, everything happened.
YOU ARE READING
Luna Lovegood
Fanfiction[BOOK ONE] Loony Lovegood--the girl everyone made fun of. The girl with more to her than what meets the eye. She's different, you know (although I presume you already figured that out for yourself). She's special, and she has a story, too. Foll...
