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Chapter 1: The Department of Mysteries
The cool, dim light of the Hall of Prophecies stretched endlessly in all directions. Rows upon rows of glass orbs shimmered eerily, each perched precariously on dusty shelves. Harry’s heart thundered in his chest, every nerve on edge as he reached for the glowing orb marked with his name. The air felt thick, heavy, and suffocating, like a storm about to break.
Behind him, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville formed a tight circle, their wands raised. No one spoke, their silence buzzing with tension. Harry’s fingers brushed against the glass orb, cool and smooth beneath his touch. A faint whispering sound emanated from within, sending a shiver down his spine.
As soon as his fingers closed around it, the whispering ceased. A hollow silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of footsteps—slow, deliberate, and echoing off the stone walls.
Harry froze, his stomach dropping like lead. They weren’t alone.
“Ah, Potter,” a cold, drawling voice said.
Harry whipped around, clutching the prophecy like a lifeline. Emerging from the shadows were Lucius Malfoy, his pale hair gleaming in the dim light, and beside him, her eyes wild with malice, was Bellatrix Lestrange. Behind them, a dozen Death Eaters fanned out, their black robes billowing like smoke.
“Give me the prophecy,” Lucius said smoothly, his wand raised.
Harry’s grip tightened. His pulse hammered in his ears, each beat screaming at him to run, to fight, to do anything but freeze.
“No,” Harry said, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and defiance.
Lucius’s lips curled into a sneer. “You’re a foolish boy, Potter. You have no idea what you’re holding.”
“Yeah? Well, you’re not getting it!” Harry snapped, his wand raised.
“Very well,” Lucius said, his voice dripping with menace. “We’ll take it by force.”
Bellatrix let out a high-pitched laugh, her eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. “Aww, ickle baby Potter thinks he’s brave!” she taunted.
Before Harry could respond, Ginny stepped forward, her jaw set and her wand already moving. “STUPEFY!” she yelled.
The spell missed its mark, but it hit a nearby shelf. Glass orbs shattered, raining down in a cascade of glimmering shards. The whispering voices of the broken prophecies filled the room, growing louder and more frantic as more orbs fell.
“GINNY!” Harry shouted, ducking as another orb exploded above his head. “Get back!”
Chaos erupted. Death Eaters surged forward, spells flashing like lightning in the dim hall.
“Protego!” Hermione yelled, her shield charm deflecting a jet of green light that would have struck Neville.
Harry’s heart pounded wildly as he fired off a Stupefy, narrowly missing one of the Death Eaters who had lunged at him. Every movement felt sluggish, his adrenaline pumping so fiercely it made his limbs tremble.
“Stay together!” he shouted, but the group was already splitting apart in the frenzy.
Luna, her calm demeanor unshaken even now, fired a silent Expelliarmus, disarming one Death Eater before dodging another curse with an almost dreamlike fluidity. Neville, shaking but determined, stunned another with a shout of “Petrificus Totalus!”
Hermione and Ginny fought back-to-back, their spells flying in rapid succession. Ron stumbled but recovered quickly, yelling, “Reducto!” and blasting a shelf apart to block a Death Eater’s advance.
Harry’s lungs burned as he dodged a streak of purple light. His hand tightened around the prophecy. The whispers seemed to grow louder in his mind, urging him to flee, to protect it at all costs.
“Give it to me, Potter!” Lucius barked, his wand aimed directly at Harry’s chest.
“NEVER!” Harry roared, his voice echoing across the hall.
Bellatrix’s laughter rang out again, shrill and maddening. “Oh, isn’t he brave?” she cooed mockingly. Her wand flicked, and a fiery serpent shot toward Neville, who dove out of the way just in time.
Harry’s focus blurred as he turned, searching for his friends. The room was a whirlwind of shattered glass, blazing spells, and panicked screams.
“Ron!” he called, his voice cracking with urgency.
Ron was dueling a masked Death Eater, his face pale but set with determination. “I’m fine, Harry! Just go!”
“Stupefy!” Harry shouted, stunning the Death Eater just as they raised their wand toward Ron.
“Thanks!” Ron gasped, but there was no time for relief. Another curse narrowly missed them, and Harry ducked, his heart racing as he dragged Ron behind a toppled shelf.
“We’re not going to last much longer like this!” Hermione shouted from somewhere to their left, her voice strained but resolute.
Harry’s mind raced, desperation clawing at his chest. He had to protect the prophecy. He had to protect his friends. But the odds were overwhelming.
A flash of green light streaked past him, and Harry’s stomach twisted in terror. “RUN!” he bellowed.
But they couldn’t run. The Death Eaters were closing in, their laughter growing louder, their spells more precise. The prophecy burned cold in Harry’s hand, its weight a constant reminder of what was at stake.
And then Sirius arrived.