Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ministry of Magic, June 18th 1996
Black shapes were emerging out of thin air all around them, blocking their way left and right; eyes glinted through slits in hoods, a dozen lit wand tips were pointing directly at their hearts; Ginny gave a gasp of horror.
“To me, Potter,” repeated the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy as he held out his hand, palm up. Harrys insides plummeted sickeningly. They were trapped, and outnumbered two to one.
“To me,” said Malfoy yet again.
“Where’s Sirius?” Harry said.
Several of the Death Eaters laughed; a harsh female voice from the midst of the shadowy figures to Harry’s left said triumphantly, “The Dark Lord always knows!”
“Always,” echoed Malfoy softly. “Now, give me the prophecy Potter.”
“I want to know where Sirius is!”
“I want to know where Sirius is!” mimicked the woman to his left.
She and her fellow Death Eaters had closed in so that they were mere feet away from Harry and the others, the light from their wands dazzling Sonia’s eyes.
“You’ve got him,” said Harry. “He’s here. I know he is.”
“The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo,” said the woman in a horrible, mock baby voice. Sonia stirred, anxious to whip out her wand and do something about the woman who was looking at her and Andrew with feverish eyes.
“Don’t do anything,” Harry muttered. “Not yet -”
The woman who had mimicked him let out a raucous scream of laughter.
“You hear him? You hear him? Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!” she looked over the faces, eyes growing suddenly wide as he voice turned low and malicious “And look what Potter has brought with him – now I never thought I’d see those features again.” Her eyes were glued to the Bowen twins, and neither moved under her mad stare.
“Oh, you don’t know Potter as I do, Bellatrix,” said Malfoy softly. “He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. Now give me the prophecy, Potter.”
“I know Sirius is here,” said Harry “I know you’ve got him!” More of the Death Eaters laughed, though the woman laughed loudest of all.
“It’s time you learned the difference between life and dreams, Potter,” said Malfoy. “Now give me the prophecy, or we start using wands.”
“Go on, then,” said Harry, raising his own wand to chest height. As he did so, the seven wands of Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Andrew, Sonia and Luna rose on either side of him.
But the Death Eaters did not strike.
“Hand over the prophecy and no one need get hurt,” said Malfoy coolly.
It was Harry’s turn to laugh.
“Yeah, right!” he said. “I give you this - prophecy, is it? And you’ll just let us skip off home, will you?”
The words were hardly out of his mouth when the female Death Eater shrieked: “Accio proph—”
Harry was just ready for her: he shouted “Protego!” before she had finished her spell, and though the glass sphere slipped to the tips of his fingers he managed to cling on to it.
“Oh, he knows how to play, little bitty baby Potter,” she said, her mad eyes staring through the slits in her hood. “Very well, then -”
“I TOLD YOU, NO!” Lucius Malfoy roared at the woman. “If you smash it -!”
The woman stepped forward, away from her fellows, and pulled off her hood. Azkaban had hollowed Bellatrix Lestrange’s face, making it gaunt and skull-like, but it was alive with a feverish, fanatical glow.
“You need more persuasion?” she said, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Very well - take the smallest ones,” she ordered the Death Eaters beside her. “Let him watch while we torture the little girls. I’ll do it.”
Harry felt the others close in around Ginny and Sonia; he stepped sideways so that he was right in front of them both, the prophecy held up to his chest.
“You’ll have to smash this if you want to attack any of us,” he told Bellatrix. “I don’t think your boss will be too pleased if you come back without it, will he?”
She did not move; she merely stared at him, the tip of her tongue moistening her thin mouth.
“So,” said Harry, “what kind of prophecy are we talking about, anyway?”
Sonia hoped Harry had a plan. Neville’s arm was pressed against hers, and she could feel him shaking; she could feel one of the others’ quickened breaths on the back of her head.
“What kind of prophecy?” repeated Bellatrix, the grin fading from her face. “You jest, Harry Potter.”
“Nope, not jesting,” said Harry “How come Voldemort wants it?”
Several of the Death Eaters let out low hisses.
“You dare speak his name?” whispered Bellatrix.
“Yeah,” said Harry, maintaining his tight grip on the glass ball, expecting another attempt to bewitch it from him. “Yeah, I’ve got no problem with saying Vol—”
“Shut your mouth!” Bellatrix shrieked. “You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood’s tongue, you dare -”
“Did you know he’s a half-blood too?” said Harry recklessly. Hermione gave a little moan in his ear. “Voldemort? Yeah, his mother was a witch but his dad was a Muggle - or has he been telling you lot he’s pure-blood?”
“STUPEF—”
“NO!”
A jet of red light had shot from the end of Bellatrix Lestrange’s wand, but Malfoy had deflected it; his spell caused hers to hit the shelf a foot to the left of Harry and several of the glass orbs there shattered.
Two figures, pearly-white as ghosts, fluid as smoke, unfurled themselves from the fragments of broken glass upon the floor and each began to speak; their voices vied with each other, so that only fragments of what they were saying could be heard over Malfoy and Bellatrix’s shouts.
“… at the solstice will come a new…” said the figure of an old, bearded man.
“DO NOT ATTACK! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!”
“He dared - he dares -” shrieked Bellatrix incoherently, “he stands there - filthy half-blood -”
“WAIT UNTIL WE’VE GOT THE PROPHECY!” bawled Malfoy.
“… and none will come after…” said the figure of a young woman.
The two figures that had burst from the shattered spheres had melted into thin air. Nothing remained of them or their erstwhile homes but fragments of glass upon the floor.
“You haven’t told me what’s so special about this prophecy I’m supposed to be handing over,” he said, playing for time. Sonia saw that he had moved his foot slowly sideways.
“Do not play games with us, Potter,” said Malfoy.
“I’m not playing games,” said Harry, half his mind on the conversation, half on his wandering foot. And then he found someone’s toes and pressed down upon them. A sharp intake of breath behind him told him they were Hermione’s.
“What?” she whispered.
“Dumbledore never told you the reason you bear that scar was hidden in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries?” Malfoy sneered.
“I - what?” said Harry. “What about my scar?”
“What?” whispered Hermione more urgently behind him.
“Can this be?” said Malfoy, sounding maliciously delighted; some of the Death Eaters were laughing again, and under cover of their laughter, Harry hissed to Hermione, moving his lips as little as possible, “Smash shelves -”
“Dumbledore never told you?” Malfoy repeated. “Well, this explains why you didn’t come earlier, Potter, the Dark Lord wondered why -”
“- when I say now-”
“- you didn’t come running when he showed you the place where it was hidden in your dreams. He thought natural curiosity would make you want to hear the exact wording…”
“Did he?” said Harry. In front of her, Sonia felt rather than heard Hermione passing a message to the others and Harry sought to keep talking, to distract the Death Eaters. “So he wanted me to come and get it, did he? Why?”
“Why?” Malfoy sounded incredulously delighted. “Because the only people who are permitted to retrieve a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, Potter, are those about whom it was made, as the Dark Lord discovered when he attempted to use others to steal it for him.”
“And why did he want to steal a prophecy about me?”
“About both of you, Potter, about both of you… haven’t you ever wondered why the Dark Lord tried to kill you as a baby?”
Sonia stared into the slitted eye-holes through which Malfoy’s grey eyes were gleaming. Was this prophecy the reason Harry’s parents had died, the reason he carried that lightning-bolt scar?
Was the answer to all of this clutched in his hand? Sonia knew this would throw Harry off, but prayed that he would stay focused – just for a little longer. Hopefully help would arrive soon.
“Someone made a prophecy about Voldemort and me?” he said quietly, gazing at Lucius Malfoy, his fingers tightening over the warm glass sphere in his hand. It was hardly larger than a Snitch and still gritty with dust. “And he’s made me come and get it for him? Why couldn’t he come and get it himself?”
“Get it himself?” shrieked Bellatrix, over a cackle of mad laughter. “The Dark Lord, walk into the Ministry of Magic, when they are so sweetly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord, reveal himself to the Aurors, when at the moment they are wasting their time on my dear cousin?”
“So, he’s got you doing his dirty work for him, has he?” said Harry. “Like he tried to get Sturgis to steal it - and Bode?”
“Very good, Potter, very good…” said Malfoy slowly. “But the Dark Lord knows you are not unintell—”
“NOW!” yelled Harry.
Seven different voices behind him bellowed, “REDUCTO!” Seven curses flew in Seven different directions and the shelves opposite them exploded as they hit; the towering structure swayed as a hundred glass spheres burst apart, pearly-white figures unfurled into the air and floated there, their voices echoing from who knew what long-dead past amid the torrent of crashing glass and splintered wood now raining down upon the floor -
“RUN!” Harry yelled, as the shelves swayed precariously and more glass spheres began to fall from above.
Sonia sprinted away, but felt a hand grab a fistful of her loose curls – a malicious laugh echoed through her head, and she flew backwards, hitting the floor hard. Letting out a cry, she heard Andrew shout her name.
“Go!” she yelled, looking up to see Bellatrix Lestrange grinning evilly down at her.
But Andrew did not listen, as he was printing back down the aisle towards her, blue eyes fierce as he shouted jinxes left and right, making his way towards her. Sonia struggled to escape, but Bellatrix had put some sort of hex to keep her in place.
“Andrew, run!” she sobbed as Bellatrix yanked her up by the roots of her hair, dragging her out of the prophecy chamber, across the circular room and through a marked door. Hermione’s charm still burned brightly, and through her hazy vision Sonia thought she saw movement above, within the darkness of the dome ceiling.
Bellatrix dragged her down the steps, practically dancing as she threw Sonia at her feet, smiling at the blood pooling from her scrapes.
“Let go of her.” Andrew said coolly, standing suddenly at the top of the steps “I said let – her – go.”
Bellatrix cackled “Such a brave boy, just like his Mummy! I wonder if his sister is as much of a little slut.”
“Don’t you dare speak of my mother that way!” roared Andrew; his hands shook with rage, and he raised his wand “She is not a – a –”
“Ah but she is!” she sneered and took out her crooked wand, grabbed Sonia’s arm and pulled down the sleeve of her jacket “I used to have the pleasure of seeing your darling Mummy,” she drawled, pressing the tip of her wand forcefully into the flesh of Sonia’s forearm and dragging it from her wrist to her elbow. “Used to torture her, just like I’m doing to you know. It was such a pleasure to make her scream like that, but never cry – Hazel Bowen never cried.”
“Stop it!” Andrew hurtled himself down the steps, face wild with fear “You’ll kill her! Please – stop it.”
Tears poured down Sonia’s face as she felt her vision slipping, her eyes growing heavy – they drooped shut, and when they opened the scene around her was different. Harry had appeared from somewhere, and looked as if he scrambled backwards onto the platform, hands covered in her blood; he was talking, but she couldn’t hear the words coming out his mouth.
“Harry.” She croaked, and he glanced at her, relief washing over his face.
Then, high above them, two more doors burst open and five more people sprinted into the room: Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks and Kingsley.
Malfoy turned, and raised his wand, but Tonks had already sent a Stunning Spell right at him. Harry did not wait to see whether it had made contact, but dived off the dais out of the way. The Death Eaters were completely distracted by the appearance of the members of the Order, who were now raining spells down upon them as they jumped from step to step towards the sunken floor. Through the darting bodies, the flashes of light, Sonia could see Neville crawling along. Harry dodged another jet of red light and flung himself flat on the ground to reach Neville.
Sonia wanted to move, but couldn’t seem to gather the strength to even shift her body. Suddenly a pair of strong arms had lifted her, and she looked up to see Sirius’ face – it brought such relief to know he wasn’t dead.
“Sirius, I -” she tried to speak, but each breathe made her body heavier.
“Don’t speak Sunny, I’ve got you.” He laid her down between two benches, where he hoped she would be out of firing range.
“Stay-”
He smiled down at her, silvery eyes warm as he brushed back a curl that was sticky with blood. “I’ll be back for you.”
And then he was gone, running off with his wand gripped tightly and looking alive for the first time since he’d first escaped Azkaban.
Through watering eyes she saw Sirius duelling with a Death Eater some ten feet away; Kingsley was fighting two at once; Tonks, still halfway up the tiered seats, was firing spells down at Bellatrix. Sirius and his Death Eater lurched past, duelling so fiercely that their wands were blurs; she saw Moody’s magical eye spinning away across the floor.
Its owner was lying on his side, bleeding from the head, and his attacker was now bearing down upon Harry and Neville: Dolohov, his long pale face twisted with glee.
“Tarantallegra!” he shouted, his wand pointing at Neville, whose legs went immediately into a kind of frenzied tap-dance, unbalancing him and causing him to fall to the floor again. “Now, Potter -”
He made the same slashing movement with his wand that he had used on Hermione just as Harry yelled, “Protego!”
Dolohov raised his wand again. “Accio proph—”
Sirius had hurtled out of nowhere, rammed Dolohov with his shoulder and sent him flying out of the way. The prophecy had again flown to the tips of Harry’s fingers but he had managed to cling on to it. Now Sirius and Dolohov were duelling, their wands flashing like swords, sparks flying from their wand-tips -
Dolohov drew back his wand to make the same slashing movement he had used on Harry and Hermione. Springing up, Harry yelled, “Petrificus Totalus!” Once again, Dolohov’s arms and legs snapped together and he keeled over backwards, landing with a crash on his back.
“Nice one!” shouted Sirius, forcing Harry’s head down as a pair of Stunning Spells flew towards them. “Now I want you to get out of-”
They both ducked again; a jet of green light had narrowly missed Sirius. Across the room Harry saw Tonks fall from halfway up the stone steps, her limp form toppling from stone seat to stone seat and Bellatrix, triumphant, running back towards the fray.
“Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville and Sonia and run!” Sirius yelled, dashing to meet Bellatrix. Sonia did not see what happened next: Kingsley swayed across his field of vision, battling with the pockmarked and no longer masked Rookwood; another jet of green light flew over Harry’s head as he launched himself towards Neville -
“Can you stand?” he bellowed in Neville’s ear, as Neville’s legs jerked and twitched uncontrollably. “Put your arm round my neck -”
Neville did so - Harry heaved — Neville’s legs were still flying in every direction, they would not support him, and then, out of nowhere, a man lunged at them: both fell backwards, Neville’s legs waving wildly like an overturned beetle’s, Harry with his left arm held up in the air to try to save the small glass ball from being smashed.
“Harry – you have to get Sonia, she’s bleeding -”
Seeing the panic in his godfathers face, Harry nodded furiously “I saw, but Sirius -”
“Look after her, Harry.” He pushed them in Sonia’s direction “GO!” he bellowed.
“The prophecy, give me the prophecy, Potter!” snarled Lucius
“No - get - off - me… Neville - catch it!”
Harry flung the prophecy across the floor; Neville spun himself around on his back and scooped the ball to his chest. Malfoy pointed the wand instead at Neville, but Harry jabbed his own wand back over his shoulder and yelled, “Impedimenta!”
Malfoy was blasted off his back. As Harry scrambled up again he looked around and saw Malfoy smash into the dais on which Sirius and Bellatrix were now duelling. Malfoy aimed his wand at Harry and Neville again, but before he could draw breath to strike, Lupin had jumped between them.
“Harry, round up the others and GO!”
Harry seized Neville by the shoulder of his robes and lifted him bodily on to the first tier of stone steps; Neville’s legs twitched and jerked and would not support his weight; Harry heaved again with all the strength he possessed and they climbed another step, towards Sonia -
A spell hit the stone bench at Harry’s heel; it crumbled away and he fell back to the step below. Neville sank to the ground, his legs still jerking and thrashing, and he thrust the prophecy into his pocket.
“Come on!” said Harry desperately, hauling at Neville’s robes. “Just try and push with your legs”
He gave another stupendous heave and Neville’s robes tore all along the left seam - the small spun-glass ball dropped from his pocket and, before either of them could catch it, one of Neville’s floundering feet kicked it: it flew some ten feet to their right and smashed on the step beneath them. As both of them stared at the place where it had broken, appalled at what had happened, a pearly-white figure with hugely magnified eyes rose into the air, unnoticed by any but them. Harry could see its mouth moving, but in all the crashes and screams and yells surrounding them, not one word of the prophecy could he hear. The figure stopped speaking and dissolved into nothingness.
“Harry, I’b sorry!” cried Neville, his face anguished as his legs continued to flounder. “I’b so sorry, Harry, I didn’d bean do -”
“It doesn’t matter!” Harry shouted. “Just try and stand, we have to get Sonia and get out of -”
“Dubbledore!” said Neville, his sweaty face suddenly transported, staring over Harry’s shoulder.
“What?”
“DUBBLEDORE!”
Sonia, barely conscious, turned to look where Neville was staring. Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Sonia felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of his body - they were saved.
Dumbledore sped down the steps past Neville and Harry, who had no more thoughts of leaving. Dumbledore was already at the foot of the steps when the Death Eaters nearest realized he was there and yelled to the others. One of the Death Eaters ran for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore’s spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line -
Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Sonia saw Sirius duck Bellatrix’s jet of red light: he was laughing at her. It such a Sirius kind of thing to do that Sonia felt like laughing too, and was glad the last sight she would see was her godfather laughing.
“Come on, you can do better than that!” he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.
The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.
The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.
Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. Sonia watched him jump down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore, too, turned towards the dais.
It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch.
Sonia saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather’s wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back into place.
Sonia heard Bellatrix Lestrange’s triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing - Sirius had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second…
But Sirius did not reappear.
Sonia could hear Harry yelling, but it barely registered “SIRIUS! SIRIUS!”
Harry had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Sirius must be just behind the curtain, and Sonia knew Harry would pull him back out…
But as he reached the ground and sprinted towards the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back. Sonia wanted to cry out, He can save him! She thought, but the words couldn’t form.
“There’s nothing you can do, Harry -”
“Get him, save him, he’s only just gone through!”
“- it’s too late, Harry.”
“We can still reach him -” Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go…
“There’s nothing you can do, Harry… nothing… he’s gone.”
Sonia heard her twins godfather say the words, could hear Harry’s sobs and feel the shock – it was odd how quickly the realization sunk in. It might fade, but in those seconds after Sirius was gone…
Sonia just wanted him back.
A/N: This is why I didn't want to write this chapter...it is just so darn sad.
Question: How do you think Sonia will react to the death of her godfather? How will it affect her thirst for adventure, and will she recover well or...damamged?
How did I do integrating the twins in, and that scene with Bellatrix? Whew, that was intense. Now Sonia and Hazel have matching scars. How horrible.
Rose<3