𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔 ☆ 𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑦𝑛 𝑃𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝑌𝐸𝐴𝑅 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸 ☆ 14

Thestrals. That's how they got to London. It was hard to get Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny to get onto creatures they couldn't see, and Rosalyn was just about to add Neville to that list when she saw him. He was fully mounted up on his thestral, patting it's sides encouragingly.

"You can..." Rosalyn said breathlessly. "I mean... you..."

"It was my grandfather," He admitted, blushing lightly. "He..."

"You don't have to tell me," Rosalyn said quickly.

Neville smiled and said. "Oh no... it's not... I just... didn't know much about him."

"It's fine," she smiled as she mounted her own thestral and took off.

Rosalyn's red hair flew in the wind as the creature she was on flapped it's long, bony wings. Luna rode dreamily beside her. The others struggled to keep up, Ron screaming about how weird this was.

They arrived in London thirty minutes later, entering the Ministry of Magic and running through the halls. Rosalyn lead them to the lift and they crammed into it. Rosalyn squished against Neville and he went as red as a tomato. Hermione saw and she smirked.

"Department of Mysteries," a voice said as the lift opened.

Rosalyn looked out down the corridor she had been dreaming of for months. It felt eerie, cold and unwelcoming. The dark tiles, smooth as they may be, seemed hard and cold in the dark.

Rosalyn walked down the corridor. Hermione fell into step beside her as she said. "I- I've been dreaming about this for months... it's this door." She pointed to the blue door with the big doorknob in front of them.

She reached out to open it, revealing a room full of high shelves with what appeared to be... glass orbs on them. Rosalyn knew they were in the right place.

"Lumos," Rosalyn muttered, lighting her wand as the room was all dark. Everyone behind her did the same.

Wracking her brains to remember her dream, Rosalyn remembered that Sirius and Izzy were in row number 95.

But she was already doubting herself, for Sirius was screaming in her dream, and there was no sound in the quiet room. Only the thundering of her heart.

"92..." She murmured under her breath. "93... 94... 95..."

She stopped dead. She didn't want to believe it. She had dragged everyone here with her... she had fought Hermione... and if this was a trap... if six of her best friends died because of her...

"They should be here," Rosalyn's voice rang out in the darkness as she called to her friends who were about twenty-five metres away down the corridor.

Neville, however, was looking at the orbs on the shelves, and said. "Rosie... it's got your name on it."

Rosalyn walked up to where he was standing, saying under her breath. "My name..."

She didn't believe it. But it did. This orb was just like the rest, glass, a perfect sphere with smoke that seemed to be glowing inside.

Rosalyn didn't know what was controlling her, but she picked up the orb. It was vaguely heavy, but she held it up all the same. And then, very suddenly, it started to speak.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..." the voice said suddenly. "And the Dark Lord shall mark them as his equal but they will have power the Dark Lord knows not... for neither can live while the other... survives..."

"Rosie!" Hermione suddenly yelled.

Someone was approaching in the darkness. This someone had a black, hooded cloak on, with a mask.