If Only

Chapter Two: Rescuers and The Fountain

"STUBEFY!" shouted Neville, wheeling around and waving Hermione's wand at the oncoming Death Eaters, as Harry tore his eyes away from Sirius's prone form on the floor. "STUBEFY, STUBEFY!"

But nothing happened--one of the Death Eaters shot their own Stunning Spell at Neville; it missed him by inches. Harry and Neville were now the only two left fighting the five Death Eaters, two of whom sent streams of silver light like arrows past them that left craters in the wall behind them. Harry ran for it as Bellatrix Lestrange sprinted right at him. Holding the prophecy high above his head he sprinted back up the room; all he could think of doing was to draw the Death Eaters away from the others.

It seemed to have worked. They streaked after him, knocking chairs and tables flying but not daring to bewitch him in case they hurt the prophecy, and he dashed through the only door still open, the one through which the Death Eaters themselves had come. Inwardly praying that Neville would stay with Ron--find some way of releasing him--he ran a few feet into the new room and felt the floor vanish--

He was falling down steep stone step after steep stone step, bouncing on every tier until at last, with a crash that knocked all of the breath out of his body, he landed flat on his back in the sunken pit where the stone archway stood on its dais. The whole room was ringing with the Death Eaters' laughter. He looked up and saw the five who had been in the Brain Room descending toward him, while many more emerged through other doorways and began leaping from bench to bench toward him. Harry got to his feet though his legs were trembling so badly they barely supported him. The prophecy was still miraculously unbroken in his left hand, his wand clutched tightly in his right. He backed away, looking around, trying to keep all the Death Eaters within his sights. The back of his legs hit something solid; he had reached the dais where the archway stood. He climbed backward onto it.

The Death Eaters all halted, gazing at him. Some were panting as hard as he was. One was bleeding badly; Dolohov, freed from the full Body-Bind, was leering, his wand pointing straight at Harry's face.

"Potter, your race is run," drawled Lucius Malfoy, pulling off his mask. "Now hand me the prophecy like a good boy. . . ."

"Let--let the others go, and I'll give it to you!" said Harry desperately. He was thinking of Sirius's half open eyes.

A few of the Death Eaters laughed.

"You are not in a position to bargain, Potter," said Lucius Malfoy, his pale face flushed with pleasure. "You see, there are ten of us and only one of you . . . or hasn't Dumbledore every taught you to count?"

"He's dot alone!" shouted a voice from above them. "He's still god be!"

Harry's heart sank. Neville was scrambling down the stone benches toward them, Hermione's wand held fast in his trembling hand.

"Neville--no--go back to Ron--"

"STUBEFY!" Neville shouted again, pointing his wand at each Death Eater in turn, "STUBEFY! STUBE--"

One of the largest Death Eaters seized Neville from behind, pinioning his arms to his sides. He struggled and kicked; several of the Death Eaters laughed.

"It's Longbottom, isn't it?" sneered Lucius Malfoy. "Well, your grandmother is used to losing family members to our cause. . . . Your death will not come as a great shock. . . ."

"Longbottom?" repeated Bellatrix, and a truly evil smile lit her gaunt face. "Why, I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents, boy. . . ."

"I DOE YOU HAB!" roared Neville, who seemed beside himself, kicking and writhing as Bellatrix drew nearer to him and his captor, her wand raised. "DON'D GIB ID DO DEM, HARRY!"

Bellatrix raised her wand. "Crucio!"

Neville screamed, his legs drawn up to his chest so that the Death Eater holding him was momentarily holding him off the ground. The Death Eater dropped him and he fell to floor, twitching and screaming in agony.

"That was just a taster!" said Bellatrix, raising her wand so that Neville's screams stopped and he lay sobbing at her feet. She turned and gazed up at Harry. "Now, Potter, either give us the prophecy or watch you little friend die the hard way!"

Harry did not have to think; there was no choice. He heard soft voices coming from the Brain Room and hoped that Luna had woken up and was maybe helping Ron free himself. The prophecy was hot with the heat from his clutching hand as he held it out. Malfoy jumped forward to take it.

Then, high above them, two more doors burst open and five more people sprinted into the room: Lupin, Moody, Tonks, Kingsley and Sirius, limping in wake of them.

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 toward the sunken floor: Through the darting bodies, the flashes of light, Harry could see Neville crawling along. He dodged another jet of red light and flung himself flat on the ground to reach Neville.

"Are you okay?" he yelled, as another spell soared inches over their heads.

"Yes," said Neville, trying to pull himself up.

"And Ron?"

"I dink he's all right--he was still fighding the brain when I left--"

The stone floor between them exploded as a spell it, leaving a crater right where Neville's hand had been seconds before. Both scrambled away from the spot, then a thick arm came out of nowhere, seized Harry around the neck and pulled him upright, so that his toes were barely touching the floor.

"Give it to me," growled a voice in his ear, "give me the prophecy--"

The man was pressing so tightly on Harry's windpipe that he could not breathe--though watering eyes, he saw Sirius dueling 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--nobody seemed to realize that Harry was dying. . . . He turned his wand backward toward the man's side, but had no breath to utter an incantation, and the man's free hand was groping toward the hand in which Harry was grasping the prophecy--

"AARGH!"

Neville had come lunging out of nowhere: Unable to articulate a spell, had jabbed Hermione's wand hard into the eyehole of the Death Eater's mask. The man relinquished Harry at once with a howl of pain and Harry whirled around to face and gasped, "STUPEFY!"

The Death Eater keeled over backward and his mask slipped off. It was Macnair, Buckbeak's would-be killer, one of his eyes now swollen and bloodshot.

"Thanks!" Harry said to Neville, pulling him aside as Sirius and his Death Eater lurched past, dueling so fiercely that their wands were blurs. Then Harry's foot made contact with something round and hard and he slipped--for a moment he thought he had dropped the prophecy, then saw Moody's magic 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!"

Harry felt something streak across his face like a blunt knife but the force of it knocked him sideways and he fell over Neville's jerking legs, but the Shield Charm had stopped the worst of the spell.

Dolohov raised his wand again. "Accio Proph--"

Sirius 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 to it. Now Sirius and Dolohov were dueling, 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's and Hermione. Springing up, Harry yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!" Once again, Dolohov's arms and legs snapped together and keeling over backward, landing with a crash on his back.

"Nice one!" shouted Sirius, forcing Harry's head down as a pair of Stunning Spells flew toward them. "Now I want you to get out of--"

They both ducked again. A jet of green light 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 toward the fray.

"Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville, and run!" Sirius yelled, dashing to meet Bellatrix. Harry did not see what happened next: Kingsley swayed across his field of vision, battling with the pock-marked Rookwood, now mask-less; another jet of green light flew over Harry's head as he launched himself toward Neville--

"Can you stand?" he bellowed in Neville's ear, as Neville's legs jerked and twitched uncontrollably. "Put your arm around 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 backward, Neville's legs waving wildly like an overturned beetle's, Harry with his left held up in the air to try and save the small glass ball from being smashed.

"The prophecy, give me the prophecy, Potter!" snarled Lucius Malfoy's voice in his ear, and Harry felt the tip of Malfoy's wand pressing hard between his ribs.

"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, near which Sirius and Bellatrix were now dueling. 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 onto 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--

A spell hit the stone bench at Harry's heel. It crumbled away and he fell back to step below: Neville sank to the ground, his legs still jerking and thrashing, and 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 of 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, let's get out of--"

"Dubbledore!" said Neville, his sweaty face suddenly transported, staring over Harry's shoulder.

"What?"

"DUBBLEDORE!"

Harry 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. Harry 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 thought of leaving. Dumbledore was already at the foot of the steps when the Death Eaters nearest realized he was there. There were yells; one of the Death Eaters ran for it, scrambling 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 couple were still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light. He didn't seem to be able to keep up with her, and it was frustrating him. He was just managing to stay on his feet.

"Come on," he said, chuckling feebly. "You can do better than that!"

She drew her wand back and, just as Dolohov had, and made that violent slashing movement, yelling, "Percutio!"

Sirius stood there, his eyes widening in shock and pain.

Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. Sirius seemed to be trying to stay conscious. But he slipped sideways and fell, hitting his head on the side of the dais as he went. Bellatrix screamed triumphantly.

"SIRIUS!" Harry screamed. "SIRIUS!"

Lupin darted forward fast enough to catch his friend as he slumped into his arms. He laid him on the ground and began to fight furiously with Bellatrix, and Harry thought that he looked quite frightening for a moment. Harry watched Sirius' chest, but he noticed the hand that was clutching a clump of robe on his chest. He noticed that with every breath, Sirius' hand would clench ever so slightly and then, as he exhaled, it would loosen, only to tighten again.

He was alive! Possibly dying, but, for the moment, alive!

Dumbledore had most of the remaining Death Eaters grouped in the middle of the room, seemingly immobilized by invisible ropes. While watching the Death Eaters, he glanced at Sirius uneasily. Mad-Eye Moody had crawled across the room to where Tonks lay and was attempting to revive her. Kingsley ran to meet Bellatrix from behind and immediately began to draw her around the dais.

It worked. The moment she was more than ten feet away from Sirius, Harry ran forward. Sirius looked distinctly the worse that Harry had ever seen him, even worse than he had during his third year. His godfather's bandages had grown ragged in the hour or so that they'd fought the Death Eaters. His head was bleeding and he was un-humanly pale. His chest just barely rose and fell.

"Sirius . . ." breathed Lupin. " . . . Sirius . . . wake up . . ."

Neither dared shake him.

Behind the dais, there were still flashes of light, grunts, and cries.

"Harry . . ."

Harry looked up at Lupin, but it wasn't he who had spoken.

"Harry . . ."

With every other breath, Sirius was whispering his name.

"Sirius," said Harry. "I--I'm here."

He grasped his godfather's surprisingly cold hand. But he realized with a sickening crunch of his stomach that Sirius could not hear him.

"Is he gonna be all righd?"

Neville had slid down the stone benches one by one to the place where Sirius lay. His legs were still dancing uncontrollably.

"I--I'm not sure . . ." Harry croaked.

"Here," said Lupin quietly, and pointing his wand at Neville's legs, he said, "Finite." The spell was lifted. Neville's legs fell back onto the floor and remained still. Lupin was almost as pale as Sirius. "Let's--let's get the others. I assume they're still in the Brain Room."

"I dink dey are," said Neville. "A brain--"

There was a loud bang and a yell from behind the dais. Harry saw Kingsley, yelling in pain, hit the ground. Bellatrix Lestrange turned tail and ran fast as Dumbledore whipped around. He aimed a spell at her but she deflected it. She was halfway up the steps now--

And then the breaths of, "Harry" diminished. Harry could not hear anything of Sirius's breathing. His godfather lay still as a statue. He was--was . . . Numb disbelief coursed through Harry for a few moments and then he noticed Bellatrix--

"Harry--no!" cried Lupin. But Harry had already released Sirius' freezing hand and was on his feet.

"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" he bellowed. "SHE KILLED HIM--I'LL KILL HER!"

And he was off, scrambling up the stone benches. People were shouting behind him but he did not care. The hem of Bellatrix's robes whipped out of sight ahead and they were back in the room where the brains were swimming. . . .

She aimed a curse over her shoulder. The tank rose into the air and tipped. Harry was deluged in the foul-smelling potion with in. The brains slipped and slid over him and began spinning their long, colored tentacles, but he shouted, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and they flew into the air away from him. Slipping and sliding, he ran on toward the door. He leapt over Luna, who was groaning on the floor, past Ginny, who said, "Harry--what--?" past Ron, who giggled feebly, and Hermione, who was still unconscious. He wrenched open the door into the circular black hall and saw Bellatrix disappearing through a door on the other side of the room--beyond her was corridor leading back to the lifts.

He ran, but she had slammed the door behind her and the walls had begun to rotate again. Once more he was surrounded by streaks of blue light from the whirling candelabra.

"Where's the exit?" he shouted desperately, as the wall rumbled to halt again. "Where's the way out?"

The room seemed to have been waiting for him to ask. The door right behind him flew open, and the corridor toward the lifts stretched ahead of him, torch-lit and empty. He ran. . . .

He could hear a lift clattering ahead of him. He sprinted up the passageway, swung around the corner, and slammed his fist onto the button to call a second lift. It jangled and banged lower and lower; the grills slid open and Harry dashed inside, now hammering on the button marked Atrium. The doors slid shut and he was rising. . . .

Hot anger was boiling in his veins. Sirius might not survive and it was all Bellatrix's fault. He would kill her for what she'd done to his godfather; that was for sure.

He forced his way of the lift before the grilles were fully open and looked around. Bellatrix was almost to the telephone lift at the other end of the hall, but she looked back as he sprinted toward her, and aimed another spell at him. He dodged behind the Fountain of Magical Brethren; the spell zoomed past him and hit the wrought gold gates at the other end of the Atrium so that they rang like bells. There were no more footsteps. She had stopped running. He crouched behind the statues, listening.

"Come out, come out, little Harry!" she called in her mock-baby voice, which echoed off the polished wooden floors. "What did you come after me for, then? I thought you were here to avenge my dear cousin!"

"I am!" shouted Harry, and a score of ghostly Harrys seemed to chorus I am! I am! I am! all around the room.

"Aaaaaah . . . do you love him, little baby Potter?" she laughed. "Or has he already died?"

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before. He flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed, "Crucio!"

Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had--she was already on her feet again, breathless, no longer laughing. Harry dodged behind the golden fountain again--her counterspell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor.

"Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?" she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now. "You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain--to enjoy it--righteous anger won't hurt me for long--I'll show how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson--"

Harry had been edging around the fountain and the other side. She screamed, "Crucio!" and he was forced to duck down again as the centaur's arm, holding its bow, spun off and land with a crash on the floor a short distance from the golden wizard's head.

"Potter, you cannot win against me!" she cried. He could hear her moving to the right, trying to get a clear shot of him. He backed around the statue away from her, crouching behind the centaur's legs, his head level with the house-elf's. "I was and am the Dark Lord's most loyal servant, I learned the Dark Arts from him, and I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little boy, can never hope to compete--"

"Stupefy!" yelled Harry. He had edged right to where the goblin stood beaming up at the now headless wizard and taken aim at her back as she peered around the fountain for him. She reacted so fast that he barely had time to duck.

"Protego!"

The jet of red light, his own Stunning Spell, bounced back at him. Harry scrambled back behind the fountain, and one of the goblins ears went flying across the room.

"Potter, I am going to give you one chance!" shouted Bellatrix. "Give the prophecy--roll it out toward me now--and I may spare your life!"

"Well, you're going to have to kill me, because it's gone!" Harry roared--and as he shouted it, pain seared across his forehead. His scar was on fire again, and he felt a surge of fury that was quite unconnected with his own rage. "And he knows!" said Harry with a mad laugh to match Bellatrix's own. "Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it's gone! He's not going to be happy with you, is he?"

"What? What do you mean?" she cried, and for the first time there was fear in her voice.

"The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort'll say about that, then?"

His scar seared and burned. . . . The pain of it was making his eyes stream. . . .

"LIAR!" she shrieked, but he could hear the terror behind the anger now. "YOU'VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME--Accio Prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY!"

Harry laughed again because he knew it would incense her, the pain building in his head so badly he thought his skull might burst. He was waved his empty hand from behind the one-eared goblin and withdrew it quickly as she sent another jet of green light flying at him.

"Nothing there!" he shouted. "Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that--"

"No!" she screamed. "It isn't true, you're lying--MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED--DO NOT PUNISH ME--"

"Don't waste your breath!" yelled Harry, his eyes screwed up against the pain in his scar, now more terrible than ever. "He can't hear you from here!"

"Can't I, Potter?" said a high, cold voice.

Harry opened his eyes.

Tall, thin, and black-hooded, his terrible snakelike face white and gaunt, his scarlet, slit-pupiled eyes staring . . . Lord Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the hall, his wand pointing at Harry, who stood frozen, quite unable to move.

"So you smashed my prophecy?" said Voldemort softly, staring at Harry with those pitiless red eyes. "No, Bella, he is not lying. . . . I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind. . . . Months of preparation, months of effort . . . and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again. . . ."

"Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!" sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort's feet as he paced slowly nearer. "Master, you should know--"

"Be quiet, Bella," said Voldemort dangerously. "I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?"

"But Master--he is here--he is below--"

Voldemort paid no attention.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Potter," he said quietly. "You have irked me too often, for too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry had not even opened his mouth to resist. His mind was blank, his wand pointing uselessly at the floor.

But the headless golden statue of the wizard had sprung alive, leaping from its plinth, and landed on the floor with a crash between Harry and Voldemort. The spell merely glanced off its chest as the statue flung out its arms, protecting Harry.

"What--?" said Voldemort, staring around. And then he breathed, "Dumbledore!"

Harry looked behind him, his heart pounding. Dumbledore was standing in front of the golden gates.

Voldemort raised his wand and sent another jet of green light at Dumbledore, who turned and was gone in a whirling of his cloak; next second he had reappeared behind Voldemort and waved his wand toward the remnants of the fountain; the other statues sprang to life too. The statue of the witch ran at Bellatrix, who screamed and sent spells streaming uselessly off its chest, before it dived at her, pinning her to the floor. Meanwhile, the goblin and the house-elf scuttled toward the fireplaces set along the wall, the one-armed centaur galloped at Voldemort, who vanished and reappeared beside the pool. the headless statue thrust Harry backward, away from the fight as Dumbledore advanced on Voldemort and the golden centaur cantered around them both.

"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom," said Dumbledore calmly. "The Aurors are on their way--"

"By which time I shall gone, and you dead!" spat Voldemort. He sent another killing curse at Dumbledore but missed, instead hitting the security guard's desk, which burst into flame.

Dumbledore flicked his own wand. The force of the spell that emanated from it was such that Harry, though shielded by his stone guard, felt his hair stand on end as it passed, and this time Voldemort was forced to conjure a shining silver shield out of thin air to deflect it. The spell, whatever it was, caused no visible damage to the shield, though a deep, gonglike note reverberated from it, an oddly chilling sound. . . .

"You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?" called Voldemort, his scarlet eyes narrowed over the top of the shield. "Above such brutality, are you?"

"We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom," Dumbledore said calmly, continuing to walk toward Voldemort as though he had not a fear in the world, as though nothing had happened to interrupt his stroll up the hall. "Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit--"

"There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!" snarled Voldemort.

"You are quite wrong," said Dumbledore, still closing in upon Voldemort and speaking as lightly as though they were discussing the matter over drinks. Harry felt scared to see him walking along, undefended, shieldless. He wanted to cry out a warning, but his headless guard kept shunting him backward toward the wall, blocking his every attempt to get out from behind it. "Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness--"

Another jet of green light flew from behind the shield. This time it was the one-armed centaur, galloping in front of Dumbledore, that took the blast and shattered into a hundred pieces, but before the fragments had even hit the floor, Dumbledore had drawn back his wand and waved it as though brandishing a whip. A long thin flame flew from the tip; it wrapped itself around Voldemort, shield and all. For a moment, it seemed that Dumbledore had won, but they the fiery rope became a serpent, which relinquished its hold upon Voldemort at once and turned, hissing furiously, to face Dumbledore.

Voldemort vanished. The snake reared from the floor, ready to strike--

There was a burst of flame in midair above Dumbledore just as Voldemort reappeared, standing on the plinth in the middle of the pool where so recently the five statues had stood.

"Look out!" Harry yelled.

But even as he shouted, one more jet of green light had flown at Dumbledore from Voldemort's wand and the snake had struck--

Fawkes swooped down in front of Dumbledore, opened his beak wide, and swallowed the jet of green light whole. He burst into flame and fell to the floor, small, wrinkled, and flightless. At the same moment, Dumbledore brandished his wand in one, long, fluid movement--the snake, which had been an instant from sinking its fangs into him, flew high into the air and vanished in a wisp of dark smoke; the water in the pool rose up and covered Voldemort like a cocoon of molten glass--

For a few seconds Voldemort was visible only as a dark rippling, faceless figure, shimmering and indistinct upon the plinth, clearly struggling to throw off the suffocating mass--

The he was gone, and the water fell with a crash back to its pool, slopping wildly over the sides, drenching the floor.

"MASTER!" screamed Bellatrix.

Sure it was over, sure that Voldemort had decided to flee, Harry made to run out from behind his statue guard, but Dumbledore bellowed, "Stay where you are, Harry!"

For the first time, Dumbledore sounded frightened. Harry could not see why. The hall was quite empty but for themselves, the sobbing Bellatrix still trapped under her statue, and the tiny baby Fawkes croaking feebly on the floor--

And then Harry's scar burst open. He knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance--

He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature's began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape--

And when the creature spoke, it used Harry's mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move. . . .

"Kill me now, Dumbledore. . . ."

Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again. . . .

"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy. . . ."

Let the pain stop, thought Harry. Let him kill us. . . . End it, Dumbledore. . . . Death is nothing compared to this. . . .

And I'll see Sirius again. . . .

And as Harry's heart filled with emotion, the creature's coils loosened, the pain was gone, Harry was lying facedown on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as thought he lay upon ice, not wood. . . .

And there were voices echoing through the hall, more voices than there should have been: Harry opened his eyes, saw his glasses lying at the heel of the headless statue that had been guarding him, but which now lay flat on its back, cracked and immobile. He put them on and raised his head an inch to find Dumbledore's crooked nose inches from his own.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

"Yes," said Harry, shaking so violently he could not hold his head up properly. "Yeah, I'm--where's Voldemort, where--who are all these--what's--"

The Atrium was full of people. The floor was reflecting emerald green flames that had burst into life in all of the fireplaces along the wall, and a stream of witches and wizards was emerging from them. As Dumbledore pulled him back to his feet, Harry saw the tiny gold statues of the house-elf and the goblin leading a stunned-looking Cornelius Fudge forward.

"He was there!" shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped moments before. "I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear, it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!"

"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!" gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pajamas under his pinstriped cloak and he was gasping as though he'd just run miles. "Merlin's beard--here--here!--in the Ministry of Magic!--great heavens above--it doesn't seem possible--my word--how can this be?"

"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, apparently satisfied that Harry was all right, and walked forward so that the newcomers realized he was there for the first time (a few of them raised their wands, others simply looked amazed; the statues of the elf and goblin applauded and Fudge jumped so much that his slipper-clad feet left the floor), "you will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapperation Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them."

"Dumbledore!" gasped Fudge, apparently beside himself with amazement. "You--here--I--I--"

He looked wildly around at the Aurors he had brought with him, and it could not have been clearer that he was in half a mind to cry, "Seize him!"

"Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men--and win again!" said Dumbledore in a thunderous voice. "But a few minutes ago, you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong men for twelve months, and it is time you listened to sense!"

"I--don't--well--" blustered Fudge, looking around as though hoping somebody was going to tell him what to do. When nobody did, he said, "Very well--Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see . . . Dumbledore, you--you will need tell me exactly--the Fountain of Magical Brethren--what happened?" he added a kind of a whimper, staring around at the floor where the remains of the statues of the witch, wizard, and centaur now lay scattered.

"We can discuss that after I have sent Harry back to Hogwarts," said Dumbledore.

"Harry--Harry Potter?"

Fudge wheeled around and stared at Harry, who was still standing against the wall beside the fallen statue that had been guarding him during Dumbledore and Voldemort's duel.

"He-here?" said Fudge, goggling at Harry. "Why--what's all this about?"

"I shall explain everything," repeated Dumbledore, "when Harry is back at school."

He walked away from pool to the place where the golden wizard's head lay on the floor. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Portus." The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more.

"Now, see here Dumbledore!" said Fudge, as Dumbledore picked up the head and walked back to Harry carrying it. "You haven't got authorization for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister of Magic, you--you--"

His voice faltered as Dumbledore surveyed him magisterially over his half-moon spectacles.

"You will give the order to remove Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts," said Dumbledore. "You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you . . ." Dumbledore pulled out a watch with twelve hands from his pocket and surveyed it, "half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the headmaster will find me."

Fudge goggled worse than ever. His mouth was open and his round face grew pinker under his rumpled gray hair.

"I--you--"

Dumbledore turned his back on him.

"Take this Portkey, Harry."

He held out the head of the golden statue, and Harry placed his hand upon it, past caring what he did next or where he went.

"I shall see you in half an hour," said Dumbledore quietly. "One . . . two . . . three . . ."

Harry felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind his navel. The polished wooden floor was gone from beneath his feet; the Atrium, Fudge, and Dumbledore had all disappeared, and he was flying forward in a whirlwind of color and sound. . . .

TO BE CONTINUED. . . .

Author's Note: So ... Its up to me whether or not Sirius is going to survive or not ... You think he's dead? So, don't go yet, he might well live for the next chapter. Stick around, because the whole explanation is very different from the original one, even though it is very alike it too. Thank you for reading, stick around for next because, quite frankly, I'm not sure what's going to happen either. This is the first story I've ever written without an actual plotline--well, a planned one, anyway. Should be interesting.

Please REVIEW! I want to know what you think.