UNKNOWN | D.M (UNRAVEL BOOK 4)

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"STUPEFY!" said the eight voices, shooting eight curses in four different directions. There were at least ten masked figures in this room besides Aine and her friends. Each mask held a different design but was rather familiar to the girl, she could recognize some of them from the Graveyard when Voldemort was being resurrected. Two of which she could identify were Crabbe and Macnair who were slowly closing in on Neville and Hermione. 

The shelves nearby exploded as the spell hits it, the dusty crystal balls shattering upon the impact and white ghostly figures escaped from it, whispering prophecies of those it belonged to. The Deatheaters apparated away to avoid being stunned, at the same time, a path was cleared and Harry led his friends away as they run back to where they came from. 

Before they could even reach the other side, Lucius reappears from a thick black fog and extended his arm forward, demanding the prophecy in Harry's hand. Hermione gasped as everyone halted abruptly. 

"This way!" Ron yells, taking a flight to the left where it was not obstructed. Once more, the team hurried sprints away. Lucius had disapparated again but not before clicking his tongue. This was becoming more annoying to him, he was keeping his master waiting for this unnecessary hunting game. All he ever needed was the damn prophecy.

Luna staggered backwards as she watches the blonde Deatheater disappear into the darkening ceiling, lost for a moment before she snaps out of it and turns to run. However, as soon as her heels turned, another figure surprised her from behind, meeting the girl's face up close. She gasped, startled. With one harsh wave of the masked man, he knocks the Ravenclaw girl to the ground.

Scrambling to her feet, she quickly grabs the wand that had flown out of her hand. He advances towards the girl, underestimating her small figure, chuckling to himself as he decides how to use her to threaten the Potter boy. Out of defence as the Deatheater continued to belittle Luna in his mind, she boldly cast, "Levicorpus!" sending the towering man flying into the distance. She smiles in awe, rubbing away the blood on the corner of her lips.

"Luna!" Aine shouted ahead, urging the girl to get to her feet. 

Everyone has split away from the group, dividing themselves so they wouldn't be all caught together. Aine rushes through the soaring shelves, she didn't know where to run. With every corner, she turned and with every possible path she had taken, all she saw was more tall shelves, more swirling prophecies and more company. Her friends were all dispersed, each battling someone and along the way, a Deatheater had separated Draco away from her.

Andrenaline was spiking through Aine's system, her heart was beating so quickly that she could hear the throbbing in her ears. She held onto her wand tightly, never letting go and she fired away every spell, curse, and hex she could think of. She swore under her huffing breath, why the hell were they even here?

Oh, that's right! To 'save' Sirius.

Aine flicks her wand to the side, levitating the glass orbs on the shelves to her enemies and hitting them over and over until she lost them. As much as she was sorry for those people's prophecies that she had so recklessly thrown to the Deatheaters, she hoped that they would think that doing so had saved her, even if it sounds inconsiderate. When she was finally rid of pursuers, she bolted through an empty course, her surroundings blurring from her speed and she makes a sharp turn at the intersection. The door was just ahead, three blocks down. A smile of relief spread across her face and just as she was about to take another step, a blanket of darkness falls onto her.

She thrashed about, trying to free herself from the strongholds. She heard the masked man groan when she accidentally elbows him in the guts when breaking free. His steps faltered before he growls, slapping Aine across the face out of anger with such force that nearly causes her jaw to crack. She was definitely going to have a bruise from that later. She bit down her pain and staggered backwards, bending forward as her hand held onto her knees for support. She scoffs at him, feeling a nerve pulled from the slap.