HP Approaches the Magical World

"HP Approaches the Magic World ()"

Harry felt the others closing in on Ginny, and he took a step aside, standing right in front of Ginny to block her, holding the Prophecy Ball to his chest.

"If you're going to take on any of us, you've got to break this up."

He said to Bellatrix, "I don't think your master would be very happy if you hadn't brought it back with you, would you?"

She didn't move, just stared at Harry, and licked her thin lips with the tip of her tongue.

"So," said Harry, "what kind of prophecy is this anyway?"

He couldn't figure out what to do, so he kept talking.

Neville's arms were pressed against his, and he could feel Neville shaking, and he could feel someone breathing heavily into the back of his head.

He hoped they were all actively trying to figure out how to get out, because his mind was blank.

"What kind of prophecy?"

Bellatrix repeated, the grin fading from her face.

"Are you kidding me, Harry Potter?"

"No, I'm not kidding," Harry said, looking from one Death Eater to another, looking for a weak link, a gap through which they could escape, "Why did Voldemort want it?"

Several Death Eaters let out low hisses of dissatisfaction.

"Do you dare to call him by his first name?"

Bellatrix whispered.

"Of course," said Harry, still holding on to the glass ball, in case someone magically snatched it away, "yes, I have no problem saying the name, v—"

"Shut up!"

Bellatrix screamed:

"How dare you utter his name from your vile mouth, how dare you stain it with your bastard tongue, how dare you—"

"Did you know he's a bastard too?"

Harry said without hesitation, and Hermione moaned softly in his ear, obviously palpitating very badly.

"Voldemort? Of course, his mother was a wizard, but his father was a Muggle. Did he keep telling you he was a purebred wizard?"

"Swoon-"

"No!"

A jet of red light shot from the tip of Bellatrix Lestrange's wand, but Malfoy's spell deflected it, hitting some glass orbs on a shelf a foot to Harry's left. Was smashed to pieces.

Two phantom, pearly-white, floating figures stretched out from the shards of glass that fell to the floor and spoke.

Their voices rose and fell, and only a few words could be heard amid the shouts of Malfoy and Bellatrix.

"At the solstice there will be a new..."

said an elderly figure with a beard.

"Don't attack, we need the prophecy ball!"

"How dare he—how dare he—"

Bellatrix screamed incoherently, "There he stands - dirty bastard -"

"Wait until we get the prophecy ball!"

cried Malfoy.

"...no one will come after that..."

said the figure of the young woman.

The two figures emerging from the shattered glass ball melted into a thin gas and disappeared without a trace, leaving only the glass shards on the floor.

However, they gave Harry an idea, the problem was how to tell others about his idea.

"Ask me to give you the ball... You haven't told me what's so special about this prophecy."

Harry said he was stalling for time. He moved his foot slowly to one side, trying to reach the other person's feet.

"Don't play tricks on us, Potter."

"I'm not playing tricks."

Harry replied, moving his foot while talking to them, and then he felt someone's toes and stepped on them, with a high-pitched gasp behind him.

He could hear himself stepping on Hermione's foot.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione asked softly from behind,

He seemed extremely careful.

"Dumbledore never told you that the reason for your scar is hidden in the Department of Mysteries?"

"I—what?"

Harry said, asking for a moment that he had completely forgotten his plans, "What happened to my scar?"

"What's wrong?"

Hermione asked again in a low voice behind her, her tone more urgent than before.

"How can this be?"

Malfoy said happily, and several Death Eaters laughed again. Under the cover of these laughter, Harry wriggled his lips as little as possible, and said to Hermione through his teeth: "Shock!" Broken shelf-"

"Dumbledore never told you?"

Malfoy repeated: "Then that would explain why you haven't been here sooner, Potter, the Dark Lord wonders why—"

"—When I say start—"

"—why didn't you come running when he told you in his dream where it was hiding.

He thinks that instinctive curiosity makes you yearn for accurate information..."

"Yeah?"

Behind him, Harry said, he felt rather than heard Hermione passing his words on to the others.

He had to find a way to keep the conversation going and distract the Death Eaters.

"So, he wants me to get the prophecy ball, right? Why?"

"Why?"

Malfoy said happily, "Because only the person mentioned in the prophecy, Potter, has the right to get it from the Department of Mysteries, and this is what the Dark Lord found out when he used others to steal the prophecy ball for him."

"Then why would he want to steal the prophecy about me?"

"It's about the two of you, Potter, it's about the two of you...

Haven't you ever wondered why the Dark Lord wanted to kill you when you were a baby? "

Through the hole in Malfoy's hood, Harry stared into his looming gray eyes.

Was this prophecy the reason his parents died?

Is that why he wears his lightning-shaped scar?

Are the answers to all of these held in your own hands?

"Someone made the same prophecy for me and Voldemort?"

He said softly, staring intently at Lucius Malfoy, holding the warm glass ball tightly in his hand.

It's barely bigger than a Snitch, and it's still dusty.

"He asked me to come and get this prophecy ball for him...why doesn't he come and get it himself?"

"He will get it himself?"

Bellatrix let out a maniacal laugh and screamed, "People are completely ignoring the return of the Dark Lord, and he walks into the Ministry of Magic at a time like this?

Now that they are wasting time looking for my dear cousin, will the Dark Lord expose himself to the Aurors? "

This woman is indeed a lunatic, but the words of a lunatic can always be much better than that of a normal person.

At times like this, Harry finally showed a different kind of wisdom.