Hogwarts Homecoming

"Why are you here?"

Malfoy stood in the middle of the huge room full of shelves, watching in horror as a group of young wizards like him walked in one after another.

"Are you here to chase me?"

Malfoy took a few steps back, his voice trembling as the gloomy faces under the fluorescent light made him tremble.

At this point, Harry no longer wanted to say anything to Malfoy.

Malfoy has decided to join Voldemort, and being expelled from Hogwarts is his destined end.

After tonight, if the two of them have another chance to meet, it may be in Avalon Prison. Malfoy is waving a hoe in the field, while he is standing on the ridge, looking at the man who is responsible for Hogwarts and An 'old friend' whom he has been with for many years.

"Where's Sirius?"

Harry asked softly.

Although Elune had helped him a lot tonight, Harry did not want to believe her judgment.

"What. Who?"

Malfoy, who looked confused and didn't look like he was faking it, subconsciously asked back, making Harry's heart skip a beat.

Something's wrong!

Hermione looked around, looking at this dark, church-like room. She looked at the dusty shelves filled with small glass balls. From the reflection of the glass balls, she saw her own face. It’s the fear of losing control.

There was one thing she approved of Harry.

A lot of what happened tonight was planned.

This seemingly peaceful room is a trap, but the trap has not been triggered yet.

"Leave Malfoy alone, Harry, I think we'd better get out of here!"

Hermione glanced at Malfoy and then looked away, whispering anxiously into Harry's ear.

"No Malfoy is lying, I'm going to check it out."

Harry murmured somewhat absentmindedly, trying his best to suppress the guilt that began to well up in his heart.

Harry staggered forward, Ron and the others were following behind him, and Malfoy thought that Harry and the others were chasing him.

For the first time, he did not hide his panic in front of Harry and the group. Every time Harry took a step forward, he took a step back.

Harry ignored Malfoy completely. He moved forward cautiously, staring at the dim passage between the two rows of shelves. He heard nothing and saw no movement.

"It's Platoon Ninety-Seven——"

Hermione said to Harry in an urging tone.

She could guess what Harry was thinking now. She just wanted Harry to take a quick look, and then quickly ask Elune to take them back to Hogwarts, or at the worst, back to the hall above.

Harry still strained his ears, listening for every little movement, but the hall was silent except for their slight footsteps.

Maybe Sirius might have been gagged or unconscious. Or, there was an autonomous voice in his head saying that he was late and Sirius might have already arrived.

No, if that happens, I'll feel it. I'll see it--

"Ninety-seven!"

Hermione raised her wand, held it up to look at the silver nameplate next to the row of shelves where they arrived, and whispered, as if she was afraid of disturbing anything.

They gathered at the end of the row of shelves and looked into the adjacent aisle. No one was there.

"He's at the end of here,"

Harry said, his lips slightly dry,

"You can't see clearly from here."

He led the way through the elevated shelves where glass balls were placed. Several glass balls shimmered as they passed by.

"It was around here that I remember very clearly—"

With a tangled and complicated mood, Harry walked through every step.

He hoped to see Sirius' ragged figure, but he didn't want to see him here.

"It's right here. Very close."

They have reached the other end of the shelf and entered the dim candlelight again, but there is no one here, only glass balls that are dusty and forgotten.

"He might"

Harry's voice was hoarse;

"Maybe--"

"Harry--"

Hermione stepped forward and took hold of Harry's arm.

"What's the matter?"

Harry's tone was not good.

"In my opinion, Sirius is not here."

No one spoke, Harry just stared at the place where Sirius fell in his memory, looking for any trace of a struggle.

"Harry!"

Ron also called out, but this time Harry didn't want to answer. He just kept his head down and made a little noise through his nasal cavity.

He didn't want to hear what Ron had to say, tell him he'd done something stupid, or suggest that everyone return to Hogwarts.

But his face was indeed burning, and he wished he could hide in this dark place for a long time.

Professor Blaine's advice that Hermione quoted was not wrong.

He shouldn't blindly trust the images he saw in his dreams.

"Harry--"

But Ron shouted again, his tone aggravated,

"Do you see this glass ball?"

Glass ball?

The glass ball that Voldemort wanted Sirius to get?

Harry, who was lowering his head in self-reflection, suddenly turned around. He saw Ron pointing solemnly at a glass ball on the shelf next to him, while Hermione, Ginny and others had already looked at it under Ron's guidance. They all had expressions of surprise and uncertainty.

"The Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter"

Harry stared blankly.

There was a label under the glass ball, and behind a date sixteen years ago, it said he and Voldemort.

"What is this?"

Ron looked at Harry, timidity in his voice and expression.

"Why is your name on it?"

Then, Ron started to look at the other glass balls. Maybe, everyone has a glass ball. This is actually the archives of the Ministry of Magic or something. Every minor has a glass ball.

Hermione, Ginny and Luna, like Ron, looked around to see if they could still find familiar names.

Draco appeared quietly at the end of the ninety-seventh row of shelves. He stared blankly at his classmates and Harry.

Judging from the behavior of Harry and others, he had realized that they were probably not here to chase him.

Are they here to find Sirius?

Taking such a big risk to leave Hogwarts in the middle of the night and come to the Department of Mysteries of the Ministry of Magic to find Sirius

Draco's light gray pupils trembled.

Conspiracy smells of conspiracy

Who guided Potter here? This is not a Quidditch boutique in Diagon Alley that you can get in by accident!

"If I'm not wrong."

Elune bit her plump, red lower lip. She seemed to have come back to consciousness and looked at the shelves around her.

"This should be the Prophecy Hall of the British Ministry of Magic."

"Hall of Prophecy?"

Hermione's voice tightened and she raised her voice in question.

"I did hear it sometime." Elune's tone gradually became more confident,

"In the Department of Mysteries of the British Ministry of Magic, there is a room dedicated to prophecies. These glass balls are prophecy balls!"

"But aren't you an American? How did you hear about it?"

Ginny stared at Elune with distrust.

"I'm not a brat like you!"

Elune said angrily,

"More knowledgeable than you!"

Prophecy ball.

Harry withdrew his gaze, looked at the glass ball marking him and Voldemort, and slowly raised his hand,

"The prophecy has my and Voldemort's names written on it"

"Don't touch, Potter!"

Draco suddenly woke up from his trance and shouted in panic,

"This is a conspiracy. Go back to school quickly!"

But it was too late, Harry had already touched it.

He originally thought the ball would be cold, but on the contrary, the glass ball seemed to have been baking under the scorching sun for several hours, and the light warmed the surface of the ball.

There was a moment of silence, and nothing happened.

Harry thought Malfoy was just bluffing, but -

The next second, ripples rippled in the air.

Many figures appeared out of thin air, blocking the way out in front and behind the shelf. A dozen wands pointed at their hearts, and cold light shot out from the slits in their hoods. Ginny gasped in horror.

"You're still fooled, Poe. Why are you here, Draco?!"

A startled and angry voice came from behind the Death Eaters. (End of chapter)