FicWad

Authors Notes: This chapter will be taking place during the time Harry and friends are in the Department of Mysteries, while he is inspecting the veil.

-x-X-x-

Harry frowned in annoyance as he looked the swaying veil over for the fifth time in as many minutes. Something about it gave him the creeps, which was strange in itself considering what he had seen in his short life. He could hear voices behind it, yet from where he had no idea. The strange thing was, only he and Luna could hear them. When he asked about it, Hermione looked at him like he was demented. She was lucky he couldn't be bothered frying her arse on the spot.

"Harry, come on!" The aforementioned girl hissed. Harry's lips twitched, wanting to pull back in a snarl.

"Calm the fuck down you prude." The glare she sent him was not pretty. "Jesus - Okay, I'm coming. Keep your skirt on."

Rolling his eyes, Harry turned his back on the creepy piece of cloth hanging between the old stone arch and marched towards the others. He was amused to note that all of them seemed scared shitless for some reason, probably to do with the veil. Only Luna was unaffected, though she was staring at it with a strange gleam in her wide eyes.

Rounding the dais, Harry fingered his wand as they approached the lowest stone bench, clambering up to the door they used to enter.

"What do you think that arch was?" Ron asked as they reentered the dark circular room.

"I don't know, but whatever it was, it was dangerous." Hermione answered, again inscribing a fiery cross on the door.

"That's not exactly helpful." Harry said, eying his companions. "Everything in this bloody place is dangerous."

The bookworm huffed as the wall begun to spin once more, moving at an impressive speed before coming to a stand still. Ron, impatient as always, picked a random door and tried to move through it, gripping the handle while ramming it with his shoulder. He bounced right off, landing on his arse. Luna couldn't help but giggle as he flushed red.

"You alright, Ron?" Neville asked, pulling the ginger haired boy to his feet.

"Fine." He muttered, ears red as Ginny joined Luna in giggling. Harry sighed tiredly.

"So, it's locked. Let's move on, shall we?" He said.

"Wait, this could be it, Harry! You can't just skip it."

"The door in his dream was unlocked, Ronald. Use your head." The wall began to spin again, the doors blurring together at its speed.

"You know what might be in there!" Luna said eagerly, eyes unfocused.

"Something blithering, no doubt," Hermione muttered. Harry quirked an eyebrow in her direction but said nothing as the wall finally came to a stop. Stepping forward, Harry raised his wand and quickly threw open the door. He knew it was the same room from his dreams immediately by the beautiful, dancing, diamond-sparkling light. As Harry's eyes become accustomed to the brilliant glare, he saw clocks gleaming from every surface, large and small, grandfather and carriage, hanging in spaces between the bookcases or standing on desks ranging the length of the room, so that a busy, relentless ticking filled the place like a thousand of minuscule, marching footsteps. The source of the dancing, diamond-bright light was a towering crystal bell jar that stood at the far end of the room.

"This is it." He told them, strolling into the room and leading them down a narrow space between the lines of desks, heading, as he had done in his dream, towards the source of light. As he neared the crystal bell jar, he, as the rest, noticed a billowing, glittering wind within. Harry was faintly reminded of a snow globe.

Drifting along in the sparkling current inside was a tiny, jewel-bright egg. As it rose in the jar, it cracked open and a hummingbird emerged, which was carried to the very top of the jar, but as it fell on the draught its feathers became bedraggled and damp again, and by the time it had been brought back to the bottom of the jar it had been enclosed in its egg once more.

"Come on, hurry up." He snapped as Ginny looked as if she were going to stop and watch it again.

"You dawdled en-" She stopped at the murderous stare he sent her way, his left hand twitching violently. She swore she could see sparks coming from the tips of his fingers but just as fast as they had appeared, they vanished. Knowing she got the message, he turned and continued.

Following his lead, they trailed him to the only door behind the bell and entered.

They were there, they had found the place: high as church and full of nothing but towering shelves covered in small, dusty, glass orbs. They glittered dully in the light issuing from more candle-brackets set at intervals along the shelves. Like those in the circular room behind them, their flames were burning blue. The room was very cold, something Harry disliked immensely. He felt the urge to light one of the shelves up for warmth but held back, not wanting to start a ruckus.

Instead, he edged forward and peered down one of the shadowy aisles between two shelves. He could not hear anymore, nor could he see anything move. Muttering swear words, he clenched his left fist a few seconds before releasing it, a small ball of silver fire hovering above his palm, similar to the one Remus Lupin used before his third year.

"You said it was row ninety-seven." Hermione whispered as she crept behind him, not noticing his impressive feat of magic.

"Thank you for stating the obvious." Hermione glared a hole in the back of his head. How she hated sarcasm, especially from him. Harry smirked slightly before checking the end of the shelf. He could make out the number fifty-three.

"We need to go right, I think..." Luna voiced, startling Hermione by her sudden proximity. "Yes, that's fifty-four..."

"Right, let's go." Harry said, going in the direction Luna said. He stopped every now and then to check the numbers of the shelves but other than that, they kept a steady pace. Tiny, yellowing labels had been stuck beneath each of the glass orbs; all containing what looked to be initials and either the names of people or places. Some of the orbs had a weird, liquid glow; others were as dull and dark within as blown light bulbs.

They continued onwards until finally they happened across ninety-seven. Harry snuffed the fire in his hands and stared down the alley, expecting to find his godfather. No one was there.

"I don't understand..." He started but then stopped, thinking intently. The others spread out, wands at the ready, searching a few of the nearby aisles. They were all as empty as the one he was looking at. "Where the bloody hell is he?"

"Harry..." Hermione started.

"The dream has been right so far... so what the fuck is going on?" He muttered with irritation clearly lacing his words.

"Harry!"

"It must have been all a lie... but why? Why would he wan-"

"Har-"

"What do you want?" He snapped, rounding on the bushy haired girl. "Don't you ever shut your fucking gob? Merlin's Beard!"

"Well excu-"

Harry flicked his wand at her before she could finish, silencing her. "Your excused, now shut /up/."

"Harry!" Ron called, a strange tone in his voice. Harry rolled his eyes, biting his tongue from shouting out. Hermione was giving him the dirtiest look he had ever seen, which calmed him down somewhat, amused. Luna was staring at the silenced girl with a faint smile on her face. He wasn't exactly sure where Ginny was but assumed she was with her brother.

"What is it, Ron?"

"Have you seen this?" He called again. Harry's interest was piped as he strode towards the youngest male Weasley. The ginger haired teen was staring at one of the dusty glass spheres on the self.

"Seen what?" He asked, listening to the footsteps of the others behind him. He frowned as he heard one more set than there was supposed to be but didn't stop moving. He must have been hearing things...

"It's - got your name on it," Ron answered. Harry's frown deepened as he moved for a closer look. Ron was pointing at the small glass sphere he had been staring at a few moments before that glowed with a dull inner light. It was very dusty and appeared to have not been touched in many a year.

"My name?" He asked blankly.

Nudging the taller boy out of the way, Harry had to crane his neck slightly to get a good look at the old label affixed to the shelf under the dirty glass ball. In spidery writing was written a date of some sixteen years previous, and below that:

S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.

Dark Lord and (?)Harry Potter

Harry stared at it.

"What is it?" Ron asked, sounding unnerved. "What's your name doing down here?"

He glanced along the other labels on that stretch of shelf.

"I'm not here," He continued, sounding perplexed. "None of the rest are either."

It looked as if Hermione was going to say something but remembered she was still under the silencing charms effects. She glared at Harry and motioned for him to remove it. He ignored her and instead reached forward, his long fingers grasping the dusty surface of the glass ball. He had expected it to feel cold, but it did not. On the contrary, it felt as thought it had been lying in the sun for hours, as though the glow from within was warming it. Expecting, even hoping, that something dramatic was going to happen, something exciting that might make their long journey worthwhile after all. Harry lifted the glass ball down from its shelf and stared at it.

Nothing whatsoever happened. The others moved in closer around Harry, gazing at the orb as he brushed it free of the clogging dust. In his bones, Harry knew something was going to happen, he just knew it. He was right.

From right behind them, a drawling voice spoke, startling all but Harry.

"Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me."

Black shapes were emerging out of thin air all around them, blocking their way left and right; eyes glinting through slits in their hoods, a dozen wand tips were pointing directly at their hearts. Ginny gave a gasp of horror.

"Lucius Malfoy." Harry spoke, smirking slightly as he turned around to face him.

"To me Potter," He repeated, holding out his arm, palm up. Harry's smirk grew wider.

"Where's Sirius?"

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!"

Harry knew immediately who he wanted to kill first.

"Always," The elder Malfoy echoed softly. "Now, give me the prophecy Potter."

Harry felt his companions shifting nervously beside him. "I want to know where Sirius is."

"I want to know where Sirius is!" The same woman mimicked. She and her Death Eaters had closed in so they were mere feet away from Harry and the others, the light from their wands reflecting off his glasses eerily. "The wittle baby woke up jwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo;" She continued in a mock baby voice. Harry felt Ron tense beside him.

"Calm down," Harry muttered. "Don't do anything 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!"

"Oh, you don't know Potter as I do, Bellatrix," Malfoy said softly. "He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark-" He was interrupted by a snort.

"Me? Heroics? You have got to be fucking kidding me." Harry started chuckling as if it were the funniest thing in the world. The Death Eaters shifted uneasily at his uncaring attitude. "You crack me up, Malfoy. Really, you do! And here I thought your son was the clown of the family."

Malfoy tensed, his wand arm shaking ever so slightly but he didn't act. Harry thought as much. Bellatrix had now stepped forward, hood lowered, her pale gaunt face revealed for all to see. The insane glint in her eyes was a reminder of what Azkaban did to its inhabitants.

"Give us the prophecy, now!" Harry snorted again.

"I thought you were supposed to be the scary one, second only to the Dark Lord himself!" Harry said, his smirk fading into a real grin. "Is the wittle old wady wosing her touch?" He felt his 'friends' stiffen in horror and couldn't help but chuckle some more. The look of rage on the woman's face was amusing to say the least.

"Accio-prophec-" She started, channeling her rage into the casting of the summoning charm. Harry was about to shield himself and the glass orb when Malfoy smacked her hand out of the way, nearly dislodging her wand.

"NO! I TOLD YOU BEFORE! IF YOU SMASH IT WHAT DO YOU THINK WILL HAPPEN TO US!" Malfoy roared, ripping off his hood and glaring at the Azkaban escapee. Before she could resort, Harry spoke up.

"So, what kind of prophecy is this anyway?" He asked, giving the glass ball and hearty pat. Bellatrix looked at him as though he were speaking Japanese.

"What kind of prophecy?" She repeated. "You jest, Harry Potter."

"Nope, not jesting," He answered, his eyes flickering from Death Eater to Death Eater, a plan formulating in his head. He could feel Neville trembling beside him, whether in rage or fear, he did not know. Whoever was standing directly behind him was breathing rapidly on his neck, making the hairs stand on end. He had a funny feeling it was Luna for some reason. "How come Voldemort wants it?"

Several of the Death Eater's let out low hisses.

"You dare speak his name?" Bellatrix whispered. If it were possible, she looked more enraged than she did before.

"I dare," Harry answered, gripping the glass sphere tighter, expecting another attempt to bewitch it from him. "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 tongue, you dare-"

"Did you know he is a half-blood, too?" He interrupted, a smile gracing his features. Hermione gave a little moan of despair. "Voldemort? Yeah, his mother was a witch but his dad was a muggle - or has he been telling you lot he's pureblood?"

"Stupefy!"

"NO!"

A jet of red light had shot from the end of Bellatrix Lestrange's wand, but Malfoy deflected it; his spell causing hers to hit the shelf a foot to the left of Harry and several of the glass orbs 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 of Malfoy and Bellatrix's shouts. Harry paid them no mind and smirked at the two flustered head Death Eaters.

"DO NOT ATTACK! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!"

"He dared - he dares-" Bellatrix shrieked incoherently. "He stands there - filthy half-blood-"

"WAIT UNTIL WE'VE GOT THE PROPHECY!" Malfoy bawled.

"You still haven't told me what's so special about this prophecy I'm supposed to be handing over," Harry asked, cutting off Bellatrix before she started again.

"Do not play games with us, Potter." Malfoy said.

"Do I look like I'm playing games with you, shit head?" The pureblood bristled at the insult.

"Dumbledore never told you the reason you bear that scar was hidden in the bowls of the Department of Mysteries?" Malfoy sneered.

"My scar," Harry mused. "What about my scar?" While Malfoy began talking, Harry started gathering his magic like he did when manipulating fire, only this time he didn't release it, but kept it inside his hands, ready to be used. If one looked closely enough, one would see heat waves generating from his skin. The temperature went up a few degrees but no one noticed, other matters occupying their minds.

"Can this be?" Malfoy crowed, sounding maliciously delighted; some of the Death Eaters were laughing again. "Dumbledore never told you?" He repeated. "Well, this explains why you didn't come earlier, Potter, the Dark Lord wondered why 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?" Harry asked. "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."

"So, this is about the both of us, right?" At Malfoy's nod, he continued. Sweat was now poring off him as he gathered more magic and using his will alone to keep it under control. More observant people would have noticed he was sweating in a freezing room, but of course, they weren't all that observant. "Why didn't he get it himself?"

"Get it himself?" Bellatrix shrieked, again, over a cackle of laughter. It was starting to annoy Harry greatly, the shrieking bagpipe. "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 cousin?"

"So, he has you doing his dirty work for him, has he? Like he tried to get Sturgis to steal it - and Bode?"

"Very good, Potter, very good..." Malfoy said slowly. Harry's right eye twitched, his magic was becoming restless. It needed to be released. "But the Dark Lord knows you are not unintell-"

"Fuck you, and the Dark Lord." Harry roared suddenly, throwing the orb he was currently holding back at Luna over his shoulder before slamming his palms together.

Fire exploded from his hands in a wide arch, the shockwave resulting from his magic colliding upon release lifting everything that was situated in front of the enraged teen from the ground and throwing it back at high speeds, the fire streaming closely behind. Glass balls containing various people's fates exploded from the force while the wooden shelves shattered upon impact against the far wall. The Death Eater's bones cracking against cold, unforgiving stone filled the room as they were hurdled into the same wall the shelves plowed into. That's when the screams started, as the flames of Harry's fury engulfed them, melting skin from bone, boiling the liquid of their eyes until they popped. A few were able to counter the flames with a water blasting spell, but the damage was done. There were only five Death Eaters left alive.

Lucius Malfoy was seeing red as he leveled his wand at Harry, snarling the incantation of the killing curse. The sheer speed the green lance of death moved at surprised the fire-loving boy, nearly catching him flat footed. Diving out of the way, he rolled to his feet while snatching one of the undamaged prophecy orbs that littered the ground around him, channeling fire into his fist that clutched the glass ball. When he felt the glass starting to give way to the flames, he acted, throwing the semi-melted glass at the proud pureblood, hitting him dead on in the face.

The glass, weakened considerably from the magical fire, warped upon impact, latching onto the blonds face similar to that of the suction cup. The scream of agony was music to Harry's ear as the Death Eater hit the deck, flopping around like a fish out of water as he clawed at the gooey molten substance attached to his face, burning his fingers but not caring in his attempt to stop the pain.

"Die!" Bellatrix screamed in rage, foaming crazily from the mouth. She was completely bald and half of her face was warped grossly, blood gushing from the wound. It was not a pretty sight.

Avoiding another killing curse, Harry cackled loudly as he clicked his fingers, a ball of flames launching at his opponent. Her robes caught the instant it hit, hurling her through the air into a far off shelf that hadn't been downed as of yet. Her life was ended as stacks upon stacks of shelves toppled on top of her, completely crushing the insane cousin of Sirius Black.

Turning, he faced the last remaining Death Eaters who were still trying to scramble to their feet. One was riddled with burns but was fighting through the pain, the thought of death dulling the pain as he tried to escape. The other two were relatively unharmed, either of their own doing or being lucky enough to be protected by another's body, he didn't know.

Reaching into his pocket, he removed his Zippo lighter and flicked the metal lid open before sparking the flint. The tiny flame came to life and he watched as it flickered with each breath he took.

"It's time for you guys to join your friends." With that said, he took a deep breath and blew on the flame. Instead of it going out, it streamed from the source, similar to that of a muggle flamethrower, seemingly fueled by the air coming out of his lungs. They didn't have a chance as they were turned to ashes in mere seconds, their screams of pain barely reaching a reasonable level.

With a healthy sounding click, the fire was snuffed, leaving a very satisfied Harry Potter and four of his friends vomiting all over the floor behind him, not being able to cope with the smell of burnt flesh. Luna, on the other hand, was staring at Harry with wide, glazed eyes, clutching the prophecy orb to her chest.