"Sirius," Sam said, thinking quickly. Having Ron and Hermione knowing where he was wasn't a bad idea, but he didn't want them in the line of fire. How to keep them out of it was the question. "I saw him being tortured; I have to rescue him! I need you two to…" Sam thought fast, "…I need the two of you to get in touch with the Order. If we have problems, we'll need backup."
Hermione shook her head and pulled Sam into a deserted classroom, where she closed the door. Ron stood in front of it and stood, arms crossed and face set. Sam wasn't sure he could get past him—not without some pretty serious martial arts. And it'd be fun trying to explain where Harry had learned those things. Trying to stay in character, and keeping everything straight, he said, "I don't have time for this!"
"You have enough time to tell us exactly what you saw and what you think you're going to do," Hermione said firmly. "What, exactly, did you see?"
Quickly, Sam described the vision. Ron's stance loosened; he said, "Isn't there anyone here you can tell?"
Sam shook his head. "No. Professor McGonagall was taken to St. Mungo's and Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore are both gone. There's no one here."
He wasn't surprised that neither Ron or Hermione mentioned Snape, but he was surprised when Hermione took a deep breath as if she were steeling herself to say something she was expecting Harry to get mad at. "Harry, are you sure that what you saw is real? They want you to learn Occlumency so you don't get these visions; maybe what you're seeing isn't real."
"What about my dad?" Ron asked, sounding angry.
"V- Voldemort didn't know Harry could see what he was doing, or what he and his snake were doing, then," Hermione said. "But he does now, and he could be sending you false information to try to trap you."
"How would he know it would work?" Sam asked, wondering why Harry hadn't listened to her the first time around.
"You . . . This isn't a criticism, Harry! But you do . . . sort of . . . I mean—don't you think you've got a bit of a—a—saving-people-thing?"
"Is she talking to you or to Harry?" Al asked, with a big grin. "She's absolutely right, by the way. According to the records we have, she tried this on Harry, but he wouldn't listen to her. Unfortunately, neither can you. How do we keep them here?"
"Maybe you're right," Sam said to Hermione, trying to block Al out. "And if you are, I'm going to need help. That's why I need you two to contact the Order; in case it is a trap."
"The hell with that!" Ron said. Sam looked over at him; it was a painful sight. Ron was only sixteen, but his stance and the set of his jaw was much older. Sam didn't think he'd be able to go without Ron unless he hurt the boy and he didn't want to do that.
"Ron, I . . ." Sam had a moment of inspiration. "Ron, I need you to look after Hermione. If it is a trap—" He never got to finish.
"Look after Hermione?" Hermione said, her expression furious. "I don't need to be looked after; you do! All right, if you're determined to do this, we're coming with you. Look after Hermione! Really!" She walked straight for the door, obviously having no intention of waiting for Ron to move.
Ron knew it, too; he moved away from the door quickly and pushed Sam out of the room to follow Hermione. "Mate," Ron said, "are you mental?"
"Sam," Al said, "I think you'd better tell them the truth. Nothing else will stop that one, especially now that you've made her mad." He pounded on the handlink. "They went with Harry the first time, anyway."
"OK," Sam said. "Hang on, you two. There's something else I have to tell you." He pulled them into a broom closet and closed the door. "Hermione, put a silencing spell on it, would you please?" When she had done that, her lips thin, Sam said, "I told Snape about the vision. He checked; Sirius is at headquarters."
"But, why . . ."
Before Hermione could get started, Sam continued, "The problem is that Voldemort gave Snape orders for what he should do if something like this happened. If I don't go, we could lose our spy and that could be really bad. So, I have to go, but there will be people from the Order there to help me out. If you two came along, it would just make their job harder. So, please . . ."
Ron shook his head. "No way, mate. You're not going into danger without us."
"Absolutely," Hermione said, but she was beaming. Sam didn't understand that until she said, "I'm so proud of you that you actually went to Snape. That was really mature of you."
Sam agreed with her, but he also agreed with Ron's rolled eyes; Hermione was a little young to pull off the motherly attitude. At least, for Sam; maybe it worked on Harry. "Right, so I need you to stay here. Please. I have to go."
"How are we going to get there?" Hermione asked.
Sam sighed; he didn't really have the time to convince them not to go along. He glanced over at Al who shrugged. "Snape suggested the thestrals."
"That's a good idea," Hermione said, nodding. "We need something to call them with."
"Hagrid used raw meat," Ron said. "We can get some from the house-elves." He headed out of the broom closet and down toward the basement.
"Sam, I'm going to headquarters to raise the alarm," Al said. "Try to stay out of trouble until I get back."
Sam planned on waiting outside the kitchen, worried that the house-elves would see him as himself, but the other two just pulled him in. A few of the strange creatures gave him a funny look, but none of them said anything. They gave them half a dozen bloody pieces of meat; Hermione assured him that that would be enough to summon the thestrals.
As they were walking out of the castle they ran into Neville and two younger girls, Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister and another one Sam didn't know. Neville said, "I saw the way you left the History of Magic OWL; I thought something might be wrong. What can I do to help?"
Sam exchanged a look with Ron and Hermione. It was bad enough he couldn't leave those two behind; he had no intention of bringing anyone else along. "It's nothing, really," he said. "We're just going to take a walk, clear our heads, you know. I just fell asleep; it was no big deal."
Ginny gave Sam a hard look. "As if we'd believe that. And why do you need raw meat to take a walk? Where are you going?"
Hermione motioned to the other three to follow them outside. When Sam tried to object, she said, in a fussy voice, "We can use all the help we can get." She proceeded to tell the other three what was going on as they walked toward the Forest. She left out Black's name, and anything about the Order, but she did make it clear that what they were doing was dangerous.
To Sam's dismay, they insisted on coming along. Before he could come up with a way of keeping them at the school, Ron spoke up. "There's Malfoy. I'll bet he's going to Umbridge to get us into trouble. If she stops us—"
"Please, help us out," Sam said. Fortunately for his nerves, that worked. When they headed back towards the castle, he turned to Ron, "We're going to have to make sure they don't get into any serious trouble over this."
They'd reached the Forest by this time. Ron led them to a clearing, where he said, "This is where Hagrid showed them to us. You're going to have to tell us when they get here; you're the only one of us that can see them."
"They're here," Sam said, watching the creatures walk towards them. They were chilling creatures: skeletal looking, with dead-looking white eyes and leathery wings. "All right, let's get on them." He swung up onto one of the thestral's backs and looked down. Ron and Hermione both looked unnerved but determined; however, they weren't moving.
"Harry, how are we supposed to get on them?" Hermione asked.
Sam closed his eyes. Only those who had seen death could see thestrals. It seemed that Harry could, but Ron or Hermione couldn't. Sam sighed and swung back down to the ground. He helped both Ron and Hermione mount two of the thestrals and then remounted his own. Not knowing how to ride a flying horse, he said to his, "Can you help us get to the Ministry of Magic?" His thestral jumped into the air, followed by Ron and Hermione. Sam could hear Ron and Hermione moaning behind him, but they kept up.
It was a long, cold trip. After some time in the air, Sam heard Al's voice behind him. "Wow! Those are the ugliest horses I've ever seen. Bet that's a kick in your pants; are you enjoying it?"
Sam glared at Al and said, "It's cold."
"Oh." Al shrugged. "Why are those two so scared-looking? Ron, at least, flies a broomstick on a regular basis; riding a skeleton horse shouldn't be that much worse."
Sam sighed and said, speaking as quietly as he could, "Al, they can't see the thestrals. Neither of them has seen death. Think how it would feel to be this far up in the air and not be able to see what's holding you up."
Al grimaced. "Oh. Yeah, that'd be a bit nerve-wracking." He was quiet for a moment, then pulled his unlit cigar back out of his mouth. "The Order is at the Ministry. I've been able to scout things out; we know where the Death Eaters are, but we can't move until they do. All you have to do is get there and they'll come after you." The handlink beeped and Al scowled. "That could be a problem. According to this, they're waiting for you to take a sphere that has a prophecy."
"So? It's right where I saw Sirius, right?"
"Yeah, but anyone touching it but the people it's about go crazy." Al looked up at Sam. "Not really something you want to do."
Sam thought as he watched the English countryside below him. "If this sphere breaks, they'll have to give up on it, right?"
Al nodded, "Yeah, and I see where you're going with this. Let me check, but that should work. Be back."
They were over London, and beginning to move toward the ground when Al reappeared. "That's the way we're going to work it. You're going straight for that sphere, no detours, because that's one of the things that went wrong in the original history, and break it. Since they can't get their prophecy, they'll go for you as a consolation prize. As soon as they make a play for you, the Order moves in and we're done. Piece of cake!" Al shoved his cigar back in his mouth and grinned at Sam. Sam didn't believe it.
The entrance to the Ministry of Magic turned out to be in a phone booth. The three of them had crowded into it, closed the door and Ron dialed a number on the telephone. A cool female voice said, "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."
Sam said, "Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley. We're here to rescue Sirius Black. Please let us in."
"Thank you," said the cool female voice. "Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes."
Three badges fell into the coin return. Sam looked at his.
RESCUE MISSION
Sam rolled his eyes; leave it to a phone booth to take him literally. The voice spoke again, "Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium." The floor shuddered and the booth sank through the pavement.
As they left the booth, Sam felt an almost uncontrollable urge to laugh. If he'd been able to talk to Al without Ron and Hermione there, he would have made a comment about feeling like Get Smart. Had these two ever seen Get Smart?
Walking as quickly as they could, they came to an elevator. Ron went to open it, but Sam stopped him. "There may be guards keeping an eye on the elevators; let's look for stairs."
"Elevators? Isn't that what Americans call lifts? Why are you calling them that?" Hermione's questions were machine-gun rapid; Sam could hear how scared she was.
Before he could answer, Ron said, "Worry about it later, yeah? And there's stairs this way." He gave Sam a curious look as he led the way.
The Department of Mysteries, where the prophecy spheres were kept, was on the ninth floor of the Ministry. It seemed to take forever to run down all those stairs, but they were finally at the door Sam had seen in the vision.
"Harry's been dreaming about this door for months," Al said, his voice subdued. "Even before Voldemort picked up on his eavesdropping. He must really want this prophecy. Be careful, Sam; if you break it, he's not going to be happy." Sam nodded as they went through the door.
They were standing in a large circular room. Everything in here was black including the floor and ceiling and there were twelve identical black doors with no handles all around the room. The only lighting came from branches of blue-burning candles. As they stood there, there was a great rumbling noise and the walls began to rotate.
Sam looked at the identical doors. He could no longer tell which one they had come through, let alone figure out where to go. He looked up at Al, who sighed and started pushing buttons on the handlink, then hitting it when he didn't get the answer. "Stall them, Sam. I'll look around."
"Where do we go then, Harry?" Ron asked.
"Give me a minute," Sam said. "It wasn't quite like this in my visions. There, I just . . ."
Al walked through one of the doors.
"It's that one," Sam said, pointing at it.
"Good thing it is," Al said as Sam opened the door and the three of them walked through.
The room was filled with beautiful, glittering lights. As Sam's eyes adjusted to the light, he realized that the room was filled with clocks of every kind and size. They all appeared to be running as well, judging from the ticking. The source of the lights was a crystal bell jar that stood at the far end of the room. "This way." Sam held a tight rein on his curiosity; he really wanted to know what was in the jar, but other things were more important. There was a door at the end of the room. Sam took a deep breath and walked through it.
This was it. The room had a very high ceiling and was filled with rows of towering shelves covered in small, dusty, glass orbs. There were more candle brackets set at intervals along the shelves, shining dully off the orbs.
In the vision, he had been at shelf ninety-seven. Hermione pointed up at the end of the nearest shelf. Beneath a branch of candles was a glimmering FIFTY-THREE. She squinted toward the right. "Yes, this is the way we need to go," she said. "It says fifty-four."
They walked slowly down the aisle, wands out, ready for anything. Sam glanced up at the orbs; each one had a tiny, yellowing label stuck beneath it. Some of the orbs had a weird, liquid glow while others were as dull and dark as used light bulbs. The room was deathly silent. Sam kept swallowing, his stomach knotted with nerves.
"Ninety-seven!" Hermione whispered.
They stood at the end of the row, looking down it. There was no one there. Sam swallowed and said, "He's right at the end. We probably can't see him from here." They reached the end of the row but nobody was there. Sam reminded himself that Black was still at headquarters. Unless he was here, waiting for the trap to be sprung. Sam hoped the Order was here, but he couldn't ask now. Al was standing next to him, but not saying anything; Sam wasn't entirely certain why.
"Harry? I don't think Sirius is here," said Hermione. Sam looked at her, startled, wondering if she'd forgotten that this trip was all a trap. Her expression said that she was playing along, in case any of the Death Eaters could hear them.
Sam was still trying to figure out how to get the Death Eaters to attack them. We walked down the aisle of shelves, looking around desperately.
"Harry?" Ron called.
Sam looked up. "What?"
"Have you seen this?" Ron asked.
Sam walked back to where Ron was staring at one of the dusty spheres.
"It's—it's got your name on," Ron said.
Sam looked, finding he had to crane his neck a bit. He was taller than Harry, so it wasn't as much of a stretch as Harry would have had, but Ron was still taller than him. Sure enough, on the label underneath one of the orbs was a date about sixteen years ago and below that:
Dark Lord
and (?) Harry Potter
As Sam stared at it, Ron was looking at the other labels. "What's your name doing down here? I'm not here, neither is Hermione, or anyone else I know, I don't think."
Sam found himself almost compelled to pick it up. As he started to reach for it, Hermione said, "Harry, I don't think you should touch it," as Al said, "Don't touch it!" Sam pulled back.
Sam stared up at the little sphere. Such a little, innocuous-looking thing to cause so much trouble. He looked at Ron and Hermione and said, "What I'm about to do will seem crazy. Trust me; I do know what I'm doing." In a burst of inspiration, he said, "Someone suggested this plan." He tried to indicate his nose, hoping the other two would realize he meant Snape. The man truly did have a remarkable nose. He reached up and let his sleeve brush against the sphere and knock it over.
It fell to the floor and broke. A misty figure, looking almost as misty as the real Divination teacher, rose up from the shards. Sam moved his arm roughly through the mist; allowing the Death Eaters to see the prophecy would not be a good idea. As he disrupted the recording, he heard someone behind him drawl, "I shouldn't be surprised that you would come barreling in and ruin a well-designed plan. Well, we'll just have to deliver you to the Dark Lord without it. His temper should be . . . interesting."
Sam turned and found himself looking at a man in a black robe with slits for eyes in the hood. His voice was cold. And he was obviously one of the Death Eaters.
Whirling around, he yelled, "Run!" at Ron and Hermione and took off.