“Please, Harry, please . Let’s just check to see if Sirius is there before we go running off to the Ministry!” Hermione pleaded.

She knew full well Sirius would not be available to come to the floo. That morning she had received word from her two-way journal from Lucius via Draco that Kreacher – who had been spending time in the Manor after Sirius told him to “ get out” – was planning a distraction for Sirius to keep him away from the fire.

Three days before this she’d received a small parcel of honey cakes, a small scroll tucked to the inside tin that just read final owl . Though she didn’t know much about the mission other than Harry was to retrieve something, she was grateful for the warning. Though it made their History of Magic O.W.L that much more stressful for her. She couldn’t help but continue to sneak sidelong glances at Harry who appeared distant and slightly dazed until he fell to the ground clutching his scar and screaming.

It's time . She thought to herself wincing as his body hit the floor in obvious pain. It had taken everything in her not to abandon her exam and run to his side.

It had been easy after that to play the role of nervous, rule following best friend. The moment he’d taken her and Ron aside it was clear no matter what she said, Harry would go to the Department of Mysteries.

What she hadn’t anticipated was the crowd they would accumulate as they did so. Yes, the Dark Lord had assured her that his followers were instructed not to harm anyone with Harry, but how could they follow that rule when there were five additional students ready to go with wands blazing?

She had to admit it had been easier to create a diversion to get into Umbridge’s office with the help of Ginny, Luna, and Neville. But she couldn’t stop the swell of guilt inside at Harry’s grateful face when she told him she would go with him. Sure that he took it as a sign of her devotion to him. In reality, she didn’t want to let him out of her sight in case something made him change his mind.

As they entered Umbridge’s sickly sweet office with its creepily meowing cat plates and knick knacks, Hermione hoped Kreacher had done his job well. If Harry was able to speak with Sirius then she would more than likely pay the price.

She could hear Harry calling Sirius’ name over and over, her stomach twisting into knots.

It was almost a relief when Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad – something Lucius and Narcissa had insisted Draco and Theo join, and therefore the rest of her friends followed suit – burst into the office.

Draco had grabbed Hermione and pulled her back to his chest, wrapping a hand around her waist. His lips brushed her ear.

“Did it work?” he asked in a low whisper.

Umbridge had pulled Harry out of the flames and under the screeching of the pseudo-Headmistress Hermione leaned into him.

“Yes, but we need to go soon ,” she said.

“We’ve got it, love. It will be fine,” he answered, pressing a kiss to her temple.

When Harry and Umbridge turned towards them Draco shoved her towards Daphne who grabbed Hermione. Where Harry couldn’t see, Daphne rubbed her thumb soothingly against her arm.

She almost groaned in impatience as Harry tried to convince Umbridge he’d been trying to get his Firebolt, then again when one of the Slytherin Quidditch players and a couple of cronies shoved Ron, Luna, Ginny, and Neville into the room. Theo and Pansy’s eyes flashed as Millicent bullstrode shoved Luna and Ginny a little too roughly. Hermione hoped for their sakes they could keep it together.

This was getting nowhere.

Finally, Draco went to retrieve Professor Snape. His black eyes caught hers for the briefest of moments and she practically sighed in relief – now they were getting somewhere. But it felt like another stalemate as Umbridge demanded Veritaserum.

When Snape swept from the room after Harry’s obscure outburst Hermione had had enough.

Must I do everything myself? She seethed internally.

“HARRY!” She cried, leaning into Daphne. “We – we have to tell her.”

Due to the stress and fear of never getting to the Ministry and therefore failing the Dark Lord, it was easy for Hermione to summon tears as Umbridge led her to an armchair. Easy for her quick mind to think of a way to get Umbridge out of the way and to lead her on a wild goose chase.

Finally – finally they were on their way to the Ministry. However, it was with four extra people and on invisible winged horses that made it appear as though they were floating in midair. The thestrals, however, had been the perfect mode of transportation due to their ability to bring their rider wherever they needed to go and deposited them directly in front of the visitor’s entrance.

After another petty squabble the six of them squeezed into the telephone box and entered the ministry to find it deserted. Hermione took another sigh of relief – they were almost there.

It was shocking to her to see just how familiar Harry was with a part of the Ministry he had never been to before. They’d run through the glittering marble atrium, silent except for the sounds of their feet on the floor and the tinkling of the grand fountain in the middle of the room, and taken the first clattering lift they saw down to the lower level of the Ministry.

Harry had described to them the room he’d seen Sirius in down to the numbered row and it was with a bit of trepidation that they entered the Department of Mysteries, finding themself in a sickening spinning black room full of doors that they had to choose at random. Some with brains, some with time, and one strangely locked door.

She’d found herself disturbed by the death room and the way Harry and Luna seemed drawn to it. She felt repelled by it and could have sworn she heard the echoes of agonized screams behind the veil.

“Can you hear that?” Harry said. “There’s people talking in there.”

Hermione’s stomach lurched as she grabbed his arm.

“Harry, stop it, there’s no one in there. We need to go. ” She almost stomped her foot in impatience. “Harry, we need to find Sirius! ”

Finally the boy appeared to shake himself out of his reverie and move back towards the spinning door room. After the room began to sickeningly spin, now made even more off-putting by the flaming X’s Hermione had placed upon the doors, they tried another option.

“This is it!” Harry cried with excitement. “Sirius?” He called into the large room.

It was almost as eerie as the death room in Hermione’s opinion. There was a strange blueish light to the room that put her in mind of being at the bottom of the ocean. Rows and rows of strange, shimmering shelves went as far back as she could see.

Harry sped off and the group followed on his heels.

“He was here…” Harry gasped, his messy black fringe sticking to his forehead. “He was right here.”

“Harry…” Ron said quietly from slightly further away. “Mate, you need to see this.”

With a renewed enthusiasm, Harry passed Hermione and made his way to Ron who was staring at a shelf eye level to him. The orbs on the shelf were strange, as if a storm raged inside them.

“It’s… it’s got your name on,” Ron said, pointing towards the placard beneath an orb that looked significantly less dusty than the one’s around it.

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

Dark Lord

And (?) Harry Potter

This was it. This was the thing Harry was supposed to retrieve for the Dark Lord. Hermione’s heart pounded wildly as he reached towards the orb, but then she remembered the part she had to play.

“Harry, I don’t think you should touch it,” she snapped as his fingers almost came in contact. “It might be dangerous!”

Harry merely huffed. “It’s got my name on it, Hermione. I don’t think it would be dangerous if it has my name on it.”

Hermione couldn’t exactly agree with that logic, but was grateful for Harry’s stubbornness in moments like this. Now no one could accuse Hermione of trying to get him to this point.

The moment his fingers curled around the ball and he drew it from the shelf, she heard a familiar voice call from the dark blue abyss.

“Very good, Potter. Now come here and give that to me,” Lucius drawled in his cold voice.

She could see black shapes moving towards them and almost stifled a gasp. Long dark robes billowed across the floor, hoods hanging low enough that she could only see the glinting metal of their skeleton masks with only a bare slit for a mouth. She thought they looked strangely beautiful in a haunting way. Mysterious and Powerful.

“Give it to me, Potter,” Lucius said a little more firmly, extending his hand to him.

“Tell me where Sirius is,” Harry said, his shoulders stiff.

A strange female cackle came from behind Lucius and Hermione froze. They had all read of the Azkaban breakouts and she was sure it was Bellatrix Lestrange behind that mask.

“Little baby Potter had a nightmare and woke up frightened!” The crazed woman sneered in a strange baby voice. “The Dark Lord made you see what he needed you to see!”

“No!” Harry cried. “I know you have Sirius! Where is he?”

Lucius pulled back his hood slightly and Hermione could see his grey eyes beneath the mask glittering in the reflection of the orbs.

“Listen to me, Potter. Give me the prophecy, now and no one has to get hurt.”

She knew Lucius well enough now to hear the edge in his voice and see the worry in his eyes. Every so often his attention would flick to her and back again and she was sure that with Bellatrix here he – and by proxy the Dark Lord – would not be able to guarantee her or the other’s safety anymore.

Desperately she tried to think of a way out of this mess – a way to keep them all safe while delivering the Dark Lord what he wanted. The voices around her turned into strange white noise as she tried to think, tried to plan, but panic blossomed inside of her until she heard the screeching sound of Bellatrix invade her focus.

“Need more convincing?” Bellatrix cackled. “Very well – let’s take the mudblood, shall we? Let him watch as I torture his best friend, that ought to knock some sense into him.”